#[Purple Text] is good to just ignore anything that might be even slightly annoying or require further thinking on if they're not interested | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

realcube · 4 years

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The Maid Café || Saiki K x Reader

summary: nendou and kaidou keep pestering saiki to visit their favourite maid café but he shuts them down every time. however, after a bit of prying they manage to convince him to give the place a try and while they are there, you just so happen to be on shift.

tw// cussing, maid café, (she/her) reader

key:

“non italicised text” = somebody besides Saiki speaking

“italicised text” = Saiki telepathically communicating

‘italised text’ = Saiki’s thought

‘Of course Nendou and Kaidou would be into maid cafés of all things — not cat cafés, not internet cafés — it just had to be maid cafés.’

Saiki’s internal monologue began as Kaidou continued gushing on about the cute lady he met at the café a few days ago as an argument to why Saiki should join them next time they go. Not to say Saiki wasn’t listening as he felt extremely sorry for whatever lady had to tolerate Kaidou’s advances and his prayer went out to her but besides that, he really couldn’t care less about the maids or the café.

Until, his attention was involuntarily aroused at the vocalisation of his name from Nendou, “Saiki’s definitely in for Friday, I’m pretty sure I sold him when I told him that the sandwiches there are almost as good as the ramen we usually get.”

‘No, you didn’t. I won’t be coming to join you on Friday. I’d much rather stay--’

Somehow Kaidou managed to cut off Saiki’s internal monologue with his annoying voice, “Don’t be silly, Nendou. You’re not going to win Saiki over with such a ridiculous comparison, one that he clearly doesn’t care about.”

‘Am I delusional? Is this a hallucination? Or did Kaidou just say something logical and based in reality?’

Kaidou’s aura immediately changed to dark and sinister as a mischievous smirk crossed his face, the background squawks of the crows suddenly became much louder for some unknown reason. “Instead, you must locate your opponent's weak point before you can recognise the crucially important moment to exploit it. The process takes patience but it is one I have learned from my many years rebelling against Dark Reunion. Now, young Nendou, watch and learn.” He finished with a dramatic flip of his school jacket which was slung over his shoulders as a cape.

‘What was all that about?’

Saiki wondered before Kaidou turned to him, much less brooding than he was a few seconds ago, and said casually, “Your loss if you don’t come, Saiki — you’ll be the one missing out on some of the best desserts in our whole town — not to mention the coffee jelly.”

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‘How do I always end up losing to these people? I am a psychic for god’s sake!’

Saiki mentally cursed himself out as he stood shamefully in front of the maid café, wearing a carefully curated outfit — including his germanium ring — created especially to hide his identity from anyone from his school that might pass by the café and spot him in there through the window or something. Honestly, he wouldn’t be caught dead in a maid café, or so he thought.

However, all the reviews he read along with both Nendou and Kaidou’s thoughts helped him conclude that this place’s coffee jelly and general dessert selection is nothing to sneeze at. In fact, his favourite Tumblr blog - DeadlyDesserts11037 - visited the place and gave it a 5 star review, recommending everybody who happens to pass by the town to definitely check the place out. After that, he was sold.

Saiki looked over at his friends and couldn’t help but facepalm in response to their bright red, thrilled expressions. “Good grief, please don’t tell me you are both that excited over ladies in maid outfits.” As you might’ve guessed, Saiki didn’t really understand the concept of a ‘maid café’, so he simply assumed the male obsession with maids had something to do with the objectification of women hence he obviously did not want to take part.

“Saiki, you’re seriously just built different if this doesn’t touch your soul.” They both brushed the pink-haired boy’s comment off, completely mesmerised by the sight of a particularly pretty maid-lady walking by the window — probably on her way to serve a table — carrying a notepad in one hand and a plate with a scrumptious-looking coffee jelly on top.

Saiki followed their gaze, his breath hitching at the sight. He was speechless; no sarcastic comment, no running commentary, nothing. Just..woah! If he had known that the girls that work at this place were so gorgeous and the food looked so delicious, he would’ve came a long time ago.

He wasn’t even sure which one he wanted more; the girl or the jelly. In a way, one wasn’t complete without the other because the coffee jelly which she held high next to her head brought out her (E/C) eyes while her shapely figure highlighted the defined curves of the jelly. Drool was quick to start forming at the corners of his lips but he was even quicker to wipe it away; he was starving.

“We’re going in.”

✿✿✿✿✿

To Saiki’s dismay, it was not the stunning (H/C)-haired girl who he had caught a glimpse of through the glass that ushered them to their table. Rather, it was a slightly less gorgeous maid-lady who had long, bright purple hair which was clearly a wig.

Fortunately for him, after she left Kadiou, Nendou and himself to take their seats, she rushed off saying that someone will come take their orders whenever they are ready.

Even with his psychic abilities, there wasn’t much he could think of to alter fate so the pretty coffee-jelly lady would end up serving their table, and besides that, he was way too caught up in gawking at all the mouth-watering desserts they had pictured on the menu.

Simply glancing over the menu brought a stupid grin to his face, he wanted to try every delectable treat presented in front of him. However, he knew he must exhibit restraint, which was fairly simple as he knew deep down there was only one thing on the menu that he was truly after. You guessed it — coffee jelly.

Usually, he couldn’t care less about what his friends comrades were going to order but in this case, he was tempted to try convince both Kaidou and Nendou to order something he liked so he could take a bite of whatever they were having, “What are you two going to order?”

Yet again though, he was ignored as Nendou and Kaidou were both too busy checking out other types of snacks to care about the ones on the menu.

Then, a movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention so his head jolted from the menu to his new target, the beautiful girl he had saw through the window earlier. Previously, she was holding a coffee jelly but now she was basically empty handed, until she approached the table and pulled out a notepad and pen, “May I take your orders?” She asked in the most calming, melodious voice Saiki had ever heard, the sounds that left her mouth were nothing short of angelic. Which made sense since her serving their table must’ve been god’s gift to Saiki for all his hard work.

Chills, Saiki got literal chills before he mused, “A coffee jelly, and two brownies for the pair of clowns.” His blood ran cold; curse his smooth sarcastic comments! Most of the time, he was able to filter himself but due to the nerves that arose while talking to you, he probably shouldn’t be surprised that he had a little slip of the tongue. But now, you probably think he is a bitch that insults people on the regular; which he is, but not usually aloud! Plus, he couldn’t even tell what you were thinking due to his germanium ring and your distant expression, awful combo!

While he was in the middle of feeling bad for himself and considering teleporting away home, a miracle happened, you burst out laughing. And somehow, your laughter was even more silvery than your voice.

Saiki had zoned-out from pure shock for a moment before coming back to reality, noticing that you had started jotting down something in your notepad, a sweet smile still lingering on your face despite the fact you had stopped laughing. “Alright, so one coffee jelly and two brownies. Anything else?” You asked, glancing back and forth between the three equally unique and strange men sitting at the table.

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Saiki telepathically communicated as he usually did, considering actually using his mouth to speak for a change so he didn’t seem weird but in all honesty, he couldn’t be bothered. In any other situation, he would’ve gotten a drink of water or perhaps hot cocoa but right now he was way too afraid of making another error in his speech to request something else.

Silently, he extended his arm to hand you the menu he was given when he entered the café, along with the ones Kaidou and Nendou were given too. His actions single-handedly shooting down your plan of leaning across the table to ‘take the menus’ but in reality it is just a subtle way of showing-off how nice your torso looked in this maid outfit, a trick you learned from your supervisor.

You nodded, closing over your notepad and making your way over to the kitchen, being sure to swing your hips just a little bit extra to impress the pink-haired megane at the table you just took an order from. You mentally cursed your stupid brain though for always crushing on guys/gals who don’t seem the least bit interested in you. In this case, the guy’s attention was divided between his star-struck friends and the desserts on the menu, rather than you which was an unusual sight in a maid café considering that most people would only come to ogle at the waitresses.

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“So, Saiki.” Kaidou finally landed back into reality after a large chunk of the waitresses roaming around were now in the kitchen which he didn’t have viewing access to, “What did you order us?”

‘So, he was fully aware that the waitress came to take his order, he just chose to ignore her and left me to order his food. What a child, it must be a side-effect of his eighth grade syndrome.’

Saiki couldn’t help but sigh, “I ordered you both brownies.”

Kaidou stuck out his bottom lip to form a pout as he crossed his arm over his chest like a toddler, “I hate brownies.” He muttered to himself, realising that if he wanted something done right, he’d have to do it himself.

An amused smirk tugged at Saiki’s lips but he resisted the urge to laugh, ‘I know.’ He thought, his masterplan to eat more food without looking greedy falling into place. “Oh well, more for me then.”

Suddenly, Nendou spun his head around to abruptly join the conversation, “Hey guys, did you see the hottie that was serving our table?” He inquired with starry eyes, as if he was a kid in a candy store.

Saiki nodded, ‘Obviously I did, you moron. I was the one who ordered the food for goodness’ sake!’

Kaidou shook his head, his eyes lighting up as he leaned in close to Nendou, “Nope! I was busy looking at the other girls, but tell us!”

Nendou chuckled at Kaidou’s enthusiastic reaction before glancing to the side, outstretching his arm and pointing at the waitress that was now approaching the table with the food in her hands. “There she is!”

‘Don’t point at her, you idiot!’ Saiki mentally insulted his friend but instinctively followed the guidance of the tip of his finger until his eyes landed on your shapely figure — accentuated by the nature of the maid outfit — slowly heading toward his table, holding the coffee jelly and the plate of brownies in the same graceful way you did when he saw you through the window.

The gleam of your gorgeous hair, the movement of your luscious lashes, the gentle bounce of your upper body, how your perfectly manicured nails clutched the base of the jelly glass; everything about what he was seeing made him believe that if/when he were to die, this would be his ideal first sight as he passed through the gates of heaven.

Before he knew it, you had reached the table and placed his jelly down on the table, gently nudging it towards him, “One coffee jelly for the cute boy with antennas.” You mused, making Saiki’s heart flutter in a way he was unfamiliar with. Then, you placed the brownies in front of Kaidou and Nednou who sat opposite from Saiki, “And two brownies for the clowns.”

If it wasn’t for the fact the pair of clowns were too busy leching over you in your maid outfit, they’d probably be curious as to your choice of words but luckily for both you and Saiki, they were way to entranced by your visible bra strap to care about the little nickname.

Saiki felt a light blush creep onto his face, which only got worse as you discretely sent him a playful wink before turning on your heels to stroll back to the kitchen, “If you need anything else, just give me a wave.”

All of them hummed agreement in unison until the waitress was out of sight, giving Saiki a moment to process the events that had just went down. Not only did you refer to him as ‘the cute boy with antennas’ but you also winked at him, if that wasn’t a clear sign you were interested, what was? However, Saiki still had his doubts since this was a maid café after all, perhaps you were just trained to do that with all your customers.

Luckily, the had the foresight to slip off his germanium ring to read your mind and that helped him come to the conclusion that you were either interested in him or you were just very competitive as the whole time you were serving the table your thoughts were along the lines of;

‘I’ll adjust my skirt- Ha! You looked! Try resist falling for me now, you hot lil’ megane! Your heart is mine and I know it! See, I’ll fidget with my corset too-- just make a move already, pinkie!’

Although he didn’t appreciate being called ‘pinkie’, he had no right to judge what was going on in your brain. All he could do is be thankful that you didn’t say that aloud.

✿✿✿✿✿

You sighed as you noticed the pink-haired boy and his little posy exit the establishment without so much as a goodbye, or even a wave!

It was disappointing as you had already mentally planned your future with this guy and he had the audacity to do the real life equivalent of leaving you on read. But oh well, it would be approximately a week until you developed a crush on a random customer that lasts for around 30 minutes and for the time being, you can focus on doing your job.

You glumly shuffled over to their table to gather their plates to be washed, then a piece of colourful paper attached to the empty jelly glass caught your eye. As you held up the glass to inspect it further, you realised that it was a sticky note with a message written on it in black ink and neat, cursive handwriting. It read:

‘Dearest waitress,

Thank you for the excellent service, we (myself) tipped accordingly.’

You hadn’t finished reading yet but you were curious as to what he meant by that, and apparently you service must’ve been exceptional as the writer had left a whole ¥2000 tip. That’s a huge addition to the demonia fund.

Followed by this charming little message was an extra tip for you; the writer’s phone number! Meaning that this little sticky note was something you had to protect with your life..so you shoved it in your bra for safe-keeping.

But not before taking a moment to giggle with delight at who the note was signed by,

‘Sincerely, the hot lil’ megane (aka Kusuo Saiki)’

#saiki no psi nan #kusuo saiki x reader #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki k x reader #saiki x reader #saiki headcanons #saiki k headcanons #kusuo x reader #saiki kusou no psi nan #kusou saiki x reader #saiki fluff #saiki k fluff #saiki k oneshot

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

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Push and Pull (Part 16) (first half)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

A/N: So I had to split this chapter into two posts because it was so long it exceed the text limit lmao but I'm not making it two separate chapters because it would mess up the chapter numbers. I'm posting the next half right after this, so don't worry 😉

Warnings: cursing, angst

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She spent the day relaxing and ended up having a long soak in the bath. She put a few drops of lavender and ylang-ylang oil in for good measure. Her body was sore from everything recently and she was enjoying the moment of peace. She wondered how essential oils affected Matt. They had numerous effects on normal people, lavender being calming and ylang-ylang causing an aphrodisiac effect. She wondered if it affected Matt stronger than normal. Maybe that would be his downfall. A bunch of lavender to knock out Daredevil. The thought made her chuckle.

After a long well deserved soak, she washed her hair and even conditioned it for good measure. With the weather getting warmer and all the physical activity she'd been doing recently, her waves were getting dry and frizzy. Once she was done, she got dried and dressed in her pyjamas for now. Leaving her hair down to dry naturally. She wouldn't bother getting ready until Karen was here to help her. She was actually a little excited about having a girl come over. Brett had been her only friend for the longest time and that was only in a work context. Then there was Foggy. But it wasn't the same as having a girl friend and she'd forgotten what that felt like. The closest being when her sister was close by. She was looking forward to the change of pace.

Hours later, Karen turned up. She looked pretty in a dark green swing dress, her hair slightly curled and pinned to one side. Daphne could see why Foggy was smitten with her. They'd gotten along better than she expected, chatting up a storm, even if some of it was lies on her behalf since she wasn't really going on a date.

"Oh! I love this one. Try this one on!" Karen gushed, pulling out a black dress from the closet. It was on the shorter side and was the kind of dress that clung to her in all the right places. The top part was lacey, like a bralette, the pattern intricate enough that she could get away with it without a bra. Then it turned into a black smooth cotton with the same black lace overlaid on top of it. It was one of her favourites if she was honest. It cinched in her small waist and made her ass and boobs look fantastic.

After getting herself inside of it, she looked in the mirror. Her hair and make-up hadn't been done yet but she forgot how good she looked in this one.

"Damn. I'd never pull something like that off," Karen grinned from beside her at the mirror. She wasn't wrong. It wasn't the look so much as the vibe it gave off. Karen suited better to prettier things and that wasn't a bad thing.

"I think you look beautiful. Foggy's gonna fall head over heels when he sees you," Daphne smiled warmly as she turned to look at her. Karen blushed heavily and it only made her smile more how much she was clearly into Foggy.

"Thanks. What about Matt though? Like you said, he might not be able to see but he just senses these things. His jaw's gonna fall to the floor like in a cartoon," Karen giggled. Daphne bit her lip with a smirk. She sat down and allowed Karen to mess with her hair as she did her own makeup. She was handy with the stuff when she needed to be but she didn't really like how it felt on her face. She opted to forgo foundation which was the devil in her opinion and instead just framed her eyes with a more natural light smokey eye, winged liner and tonnes of mascara. She then painted her lips with a matte brown colour. She finished the look with one of her silver necklaces. It was a choker style necklace but delicate looking. The thin silver chain wrapped around her neck and had a little crescent moon charm dangling off it.

"I keep wanting to try these ones. I hate when my lipstick just vanishes when I eat or drink," Karen mused as she looked through the make up bag, holding up one of the same types of liquid lipsticks Daphne had put on herself.

"You should try one," she suggested. Karen looked excited, sitting down on the bed next to her and looking in the small mirror they'd propped up against the headboard.

It gave Daphne a moment to admire her hair. Karen had complemented her hair immensely to the point it made her blush. She’d always thought of her hair as more of a nuisance because she couldn't be bothered to do anything with it. Karen wanted to keep it mostly down, saying she was in love with the purple waves. She’d pinned half of it up in some intricate twists that to Daphne honestly seemed like witchcraft to achieve. It looked good though. Some waves framing her face and the twists at the crown of her head. The rest of her hair cascaded past her shoulders.

"What do you think?" Karen asked, her voice filled with uncertainty. Daphne glanced at her, smiling with a nod. Karen had picked a deep pink colour that complemented her skin tone and her dress.

"I love it! You should keep that one. It doesn't suit me at all but it looks really good on you," she urged. Karen blinked at her for a moment before smiling shyly, tucking it away in her purse.

They both took a moment to admire themselves in the bigger mirror before they grabbed their purses and left. Daphne felt weird walking in heels again. She typically opted for wedges in situations like these because at least she could walk fine in those. Her black simple wedges made her dress stand out more and Karen had to spend five minutes convincing her to leave her hoodie behind and wear her fitted leather jacket instead. She knew her hoodie ruined the look but the comfort it brought her had her whining as Karen pulled her out of the door.

They took a cab, neither of them wanting to walk in heels to the restaurant and get blisters. They sat in the back and Karen pulled out her phone.

"Oh no. We're ten minutes late," she muttered fretfully.

"Fashionably late," Daphne smirked, causing the blonde to giggle a little. She could really tell that Karen was excited for this and she felt less bad about lying if it meant being the catalyst for her and Foggy to finally take this step forward. She was excited herself but for very different reasons. She couldn't wait for the food and drink and to try and see how much she could push Matt when he had to behave like this. She wouldn't go too far, not wanting him to ruin the date for the two people actually on a real one.

When the cab pulled up outside of EnchiNada, Daphne pulled some notes from her purse and paid the driver before Karen had the chance. Karen gave her a look but she ignored it. She did just get a huge deposit from her new wealthy client after all. She brought the money not knowing if Foggy would even have enough to pay for all her drinks. She wasn't sure if Matt would throw a tantrum and ruin it since he was so unpredictable, and she'd feel bad if she caused him to ruin the night. If it was genuinely her fault then she'd happily pay for all of them as a way of saying sorry to Foggy. She just hoped Matt wasn't a dick, even when she annoyed him on purpose. He deserved it after how he'd been acting lately. She could have paid for her own meal anyway but Foggy roped her into this and if it went well then she expected that payment.

They stepped out and Daphne glanced at Karen. She looked ridiculously nervous and it made her smile. Foggy and Karen would be adorable together.

"Ready?" She asked softly. Karen looked at her and nodded stiffly, allowing Daphne to link her arm with hers. Daphne hoped it helped ease her anxiety a little.

"How aren't you nervous right now?" She whispered, panicked as they walked through the entrance.

"It's the dress," Daphne smirked playfully. Karen giggled and glanced around before quirking a brow at her.

"You're not kidding. I think every guy just stopped to stare at you," she muttered with a light laugh. She was catching a lot of eyes.

Her own green orbs swept the restaurant and landed on the two people she was looking for sat near the back. Matt was already looking in their direction and she saw him say something to Foggy who then also looked over before looking ready to pass out from nerves. Foggy was wearing a white shirt and no doubt dress pants, his hair combed back a bit. Matt was wearing a black button down shirt with no tie like he would in his lawyer mode. The top buttons were undone and his sleeves rolled up a little. His glasses weren't on but she presumed they'd be close by and she could see his cane resting on the table. He cleaned up nicely honestly. She wasn't surprised.

The restaurant itself was beautiful. It was dimly lit and there were fairy lights strung all around the walls. Numerous pieces of Mexican art but not too much. The ambience was nice and chill with some Mexican music playing very quietly in the background. It was packed full of people, chatting and eating and having a good time.

"There they are," Daphne whispered, gesturing to where the boys were. Karen took a shaky breath as they walked arm in arm to the table.

"Ladies! I didn't expect you to come together, and late too. I mean just a little. I'm not complaining," Foggy rambled nervously as he stood to greet them, Matt standing too to be polite.

"We had some girl time and got ready together," Karen replied shyly. Foggy reached out and gave Daphne a hug and Karen and Matt exchanged a quick hug.

"You look… I mean… wow," Foggy mumbled and shyly kissed Karen on the cheek. Daphne was too busy watching the cutest couple in the world with a dopey smile on her face and jumped a little when she felt Matts lips on her own cheek. She should have known since they were on a ‘date’. It needed to look real.

"You look breathtaking," he whispered, his voice low and making her belly clench. She moved away and looked up at him, his eyes unfocused on her face as his lips quirked up in a sly smirk. So he planned on pushing her buttons too. Game on. She was aware of Karen glancing at them curiously.

"You don't look too bad yourself," she smiled up at him, running her hand up his chest. She felt him tense and watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed. He lowered his head, pulling her seat out for her. She smirked to herself as she sat and noticed Foggy practically mimicking his best friend, watching what he was doing before he pulled out Karen's chair. It was like watching a little brother copy his older brother. It was cute.

While they waited for the server to come by with the menu, she glanced at the couple sitting opposite her and Matt. They both seemed really nervous and clearly didn't know how to break the ice. It wasn't like they never spent time with each other; they were friends. But the prospect of the date seemed to have them both acting like they'd never met. She decided to help out. Familiar ground to help them ease back into being around each other, even if it was a different context.

"So Karen, what's it like working for these two? Honestly, I'd tear my hair out," she snorted with a warm smile. Karen looked relieved, tension leaving her shoulders and Daphne was pretty sure she knew what she was doing because she shot her a grateful look.

"It's good. I really love it there. Sometimes I wanna smack their heads together, but it's fun," she grinned.

"Yeah but, not me right? I mean smack Matt's head all day long, I get it, but not mine," Foggy huffed playfully. Karen laughed, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"Does that mean I get to smack your head? I think I'd really enjoy that," Matt smirked. Just as she hoped it set them into some easy small talk and then the server popped up and placed the menus on the table.

Daphne looked at them and frowned, not even thinking when she looked up at the young man serving them with a raised brow.

"Do you have one in braille?" She asked carefully. The server looked to Matt then and looked somewhat bashful.

"We don't, I'm sorry," he muttered. Foggy looked like he was about to open his mouth and he had a grumpy look on his face. Daphne was anticipating one of his rants about establishments and how they don't care about blind people, he'd done it before when swapping life stories with her. She didn't want him to ruin the mood of the date.

"You know what? It's fine. I can read it to him," she shot the waiter a smile and he nodded before scurrying off.

"I swear, one of these days-" Foggy started grumbling, getting promptly cut off by Daphne.

"Hey, it just gives me an excuse to kick up the romance, right?" She asked him pointedly. Trying to give him a huge hint. Realization dawned on his face then and he nodded, glancing at Karen with a sheepish smile.

"I can read it to you too… if you wanted?" Karen asked Foggy shyly. He looked flustered for a moment before grinning with a nod. These two, seriously.

She scooted her chair closer to Matt who had been silent through the whole thing. He was probably used to it all by now.

"Ready?" She asked softly. She wasn't going to be an asshole with this part. He couldn't actually read the menu, she wasn't that much of a bitch.

"Yeah… thanks," he murmured in response. She picked up the menu before listing off what they had, keeping her voice quiet as the other couple did the same. Once again, the pair seemed to follow their example, bringing their chairs closer together. It was quite intimate and it was sweet.

"I think I'm gonna have the enchiladas. They sound so good," Daphne mused when she’d read it all out.

"I think that sounds good for me too," he replied. He seemed high strung tonight for some reason, she kept seeing him do his head tilt thing and clench his fists. Something was annoying him and she hadn't even started yet. He moved away from her a little as she set the menus down and the server came over and took their orders.

"And for drinks?" The guy asked politely.

"Uh… just a beer for me," Foggy requested.

"And me," Matt said with a nod.

"A bottle of tequila sounds good," Daphne said, shooting a sly smirk at Foggy when he looked at her shocked. Didn't expect that did you?

"Oh, I've never tried tequila before," Karen mused.

"Share it with me. It's so good," Daphne grinned. Karen nodded as the man wrote their order down.

"I see you're a woman with exceptional taste," he commented casually with a glance at Daphne. Matt sat up straighter and cleared his throat causing the waiter to look back down before leaving to place their order.

"Wow, it really is the dress," Karen giggled to her, making her snort.

"What does it look like?" Matt piped up, looking for all intents and purposes like a curious blind man even though she knew better.

"Well it's-" Daphne started, her mouth clamping shut when he held up a hand and shook his head. He turned his head to the couple across the table.

"I'd like to hear it from them. We all know how modest you are, Daphne, I want to know what it really looks like," he flashed her a sly grin and she had no idea what he was doing but she rolled with it. At Matt's expectant gaze, Foggy's mouth floundered.

"I… uh… Karen?" He asked, shooting her a pleading look. Maybe he was scared of saying anything nice when he was on a date with someone else. It was hilarious. Karen snorted and shook her head at him, glancing back to Daphne and then Matt.

"It's a black. The top part is lace. It's a really pretty design on it. Then the rest is a black lace overlaying black fabric. She's got a great body so it clings her to her in all the right places," Karen shot her a cheeky grin and she hated that she blushed from it. Karen was obviously trying to butter up her 'date' for her. If only she knew.

"It sounds beautiful," Matt murmured, glancing back at her still playing his little act.

She decided to play his game and gently took one of his hands.

"Here, you can feel it," she smiled, fluttering her lashes at him even though he couldn't see. Her hand was holding his and she rested it on her collar bone where the lace tapered off into a strap. His finger trailed along and upwards, not about to touch her breasts in front of everyone, and trailed down the back where it was much safer to do so. His touch was feather light and touched her skin as they slid down the strap. She felt her stomach clench as he did it, rousing goosebumps on her skin. A quick side glance caught a devilish smirk on his face, he was doing it on purpose. His fingers trailed further and came to more lace and his hand continued to where it turned into the rest of the dress.

"Okay, Jeez, no heavy petting at the table," Foggy whined. Matt moved his hand with a chuckle as Karen burst out laughing at his outburst.

"Hey, man. I'm blind. I see with these," Matt smirked, wiggling his fingers and making his friend groan in annoyance. Karen seemed to find the whole thing amusing though. Daphne was feeling a little flustered and was more than happy when the drinks were put down. The bottle of tequila was set in the middle with four shot glasses. Of course they'd presume it was for all of them. She guessed she didn't mind sharing some of it. The boys had their beers placed in front of them too.

"Yes!" Daphne grinned, swiping the bottle greedily before starting to pour four shots. She set them out in front of them all.

"Drink up," she smirked.

"I don't think that's a good-" Matt started, she shot him a look.

"Really? You wanna be the Debbie downer of this party, Matthew?" She asked with a sigh.

"Yeah, Matt. Come onnnn," Foggy pleaded.

"It'll be fun," Karen grinned in a sing-song voice.

"I hope you know this is peer pressure," he relented, grabbing the shot glass.

"To double dates!" Foggy grinned. Daphne almost laughed. They all slammed their shots down and Foggy made a ridiculous noise with shudder.

"Don't be such a baby," Daphne laughed at him.

"Wow that was strong," Karen murmured.

"That's why it's my favourite. One time I got so drunk off this stuff, I woke up on a fishing boat," she snorted, licking her lower lip. Karen and Foggy burst out laughing as Matt looked at her incredulously.

"How?" Was all he managed to get out.

"Honestly no idea. One minute I'm drinking and the next I wake up on a boat full of old dudes that don't speak a lick of English. They were good to me though. Fed me some instant noodles before sending on my way," she grinned at the memory, pouring herself another shot.

"That's insane! How old were you?" Karen asked curiously.

"Around 19. My parents chewed me out so bad for that because I missed college," she rolled her eyes, settling back in her chair. She’d only had one shot but the warmth bloomed in her chest and she enjoyed it.

"College? You never told me you went to college," Foggy complained. He sounded so offended and she laughed. Karen gave him a grin, shaking her head at him.

"Well I mean, I dropped out so it didn't feel worth mentioning," she shrugged.

"Foggy's gonna cry about this for a week now. He loves to know every little bit of his friends' lives," Matt teased with a grin. Foggy flipped him off making the girls giggle.

"What did you study?" Karen asked. She genuinely sounded interested and Daphne shifted in her seat a little.

"Photography," she explained.

"Of course!" Foggy said dramatically.

"That's where it all started, huh?" Matt asked with a smirk.

"I bet you were a real wild child. I bet the tequila story is nothing for you," Karen grinned at her.

"Are you telling me you never rebelled at all?" She quipped back playfully.

"I guess I did," Karen replied. She was smiling but there was an inflection in her voice. There was something there Karen didn't want to talk about so she decided not to press.

"You heard this, Matt. We scored a couple of bad girls. What kind of lawyers are we?" Foggy asked, acting disappointed in himself. Matt barked a laugh and she giggled when Karen slapped Foggy's arm.

"Right, I bet you two were little angels in college," Karen teased.

"We partied a bit but never anything crazy," Foggy defended.

"Honestly I didn't party too much. Not a big people person," Daphne defended with a grin.

"Shocker," Matt murmured next to her. She squinted at him as Foggy snorted.

"I mostly got in trouble for fights," she shrugged.

"Fights like real fights?" Foggy asked, sounding surprised.

"I had issues with using my fists and not my words. I was never actually good at fighting but it's amazing what you can do if you're pissed off enough," she murmured.

"Were they critiquing your people skills?" Matt asked dryly.

"It's like you want me to punch you," she commented with a sweet smile.

"I'd like to see you try, sweetheart," he smirked, raising a brow. She made a mental note to try and kick his ass next training session. Karen seemed to take their banter as flirting and gave her a look as if she thought the date was going well.

Soon enough the food was at their table and Daphne was loving it. She wanted to come here at some point on her own. They'd been making casual small talk and the night had actually been going really well. She hadn't even fucked with Matt too much as she kept getting distracted by the drink, amazing food and actually good conversation.

"So I have to ask, how did you two meet?" Karen smiled glancing between Daphne and her fake date. She should have known this was coming. Foggy choked on his food a bit and Karen looked at him worried before smacking his back a little.

"We met at the precinct, just kinda crossed paths I guess," she shrugged with a grin.

"She had that bad attitude and I couldn't resist," Matt smirked. She rolled her eyes at him and the others laughed.

"Daphne told me you've been training her. Helping her defend herself," Karen mused, just making conversation.

"Yeah. She's actually doing really good. She's a fast learner," he actually sounded sincere and she couldn't help glowing with the praise.

"I can't even imagine how scary that must have been for you though. What that guy did… and now he's awake again," Karen said with a furrowed brow. Daphne stilled completely, her head whipping from one person at the table to the other. Matt grimaced, looking down at the table and Foggy looked like he'd seen a ghost. Karen glanced at them before her eyes widened a little.

"Wait. You- you guys didn't tell her?" She asked hesitantly. Daphne's heart went into overdrive and she hated how those simple words had an effect on her. But she was also more bothered by the betrayal she felt at no one telling her.

"He's awake and you guys just didn't think it was important to tell me?" Her voice was tight and higher pitched than normal and she saw Foggy deflate as if realising he and Matt had ruined the date. She released then just how much Foggy meant to her because she felt bad. She didn't want Karen's association with the date to be a bad one because then she might not have a second one with him.

"You know what, it's fine. Let's not even think about that right now. Let's just enjoy the night," she plastered a smile on her face with force as she grabbed the bottle and poured herself another shot and drank it in one.

"Are you sure?" Karen started carefully. She hated the pity she saw in her eyes.

"Mhm. I don't want it to ruin the date," the word date felt like acid in her mouth as she tried to push back the burning betrayal and dose of anxiety all the way down. She gave her another smile and it seemed to do the trick. Foggy gave her a look that was relief mixed with pure guilt and she looked away.

"I think we should get dessert," Karen said after a moment to diffuse the tension.

"Good idea! We'll go up and order it. You guys want anything?" Foggy asked, standing up so fast his chair almost tipped over.

"No, I'm good thanks," Matt muttered.

"The fudge cake seems good. But can I have it to go so I can eat it later?" She asked politely. So she could eat it in bed tonight when she lost sleep over the mess that the night turned out to be. Karen smiled as she ushered Foggy away and they walked to the counter across the way.

"Daphne," Matt started softly.

"Don't," she bit out with pure anger. She grabbed the bottle but Matt swiped it from her easily and set it back down. The pure need to drink was overwhelming her and she could feel her heart thumping against her ribs.

"I think you've had enough," he scolded lightly. She looked at him with such fury that he recoiled even though he couldn't see it.

"You know what I've had enough of? Lies, people turning out to be shitty. Keeping important things from me," she hissed. She could feel her blood pressure rising with each word and she felt like she couldn't breathe.

"Come on. Let's get some air," he said firmly, standing up and reaching for her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to stand and she swayed a little from the alcohol and the anxiety making her head rush.

"Wait, where are you guys going?" Foggy asked, confused as he came back to the table Karen in tow after they'd placed the orders.

"Just need some air," Matt murmured, not even sparing them a glance as he ‘watched’ her. They must have seen her anxiety because they just nodded as they sat. Matt led her outside and off to the side out of the way.

"You know, I'd expect this from you, but from Foggy? And Brett? Why didn't Brett call me the second that piece of shit woke up?" She yelled, not caring if people heard her. Matt didn't have his glasses on and his hazel eyes burned into her as he frowned.

"It was me. We only found out because we were with Brett when he got the call. I suggested we wait to tell you and asked Brett to keep it quiet too," he sighed regretfully.

"Why?" Her voice was pained and he grimaced, taking a step towards her.

"What good would it do? If I told you earlier when I found out, all that would have done was make you panic sooner. And you were so set on coming here and helping Foggy out and I didn't want you to just lock yourself away," he explained.

"I like Karen, I really do and I think there's potential to be friends, but do you know what a slap in the face it is to have someone's who's practically a stranger tell me?" She was upset, more than upset and her brain was a pile of mush as she tried to sort through it.

"If I knew this would happen, I would have told you sooner. But it doesn't change anything. He's awake now and there's nothing you could have done differently to change what's happening," he placated.

She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. She didn't want to cry. Not now and not in front of him. She regretted drinking now as it always made her a little more emotional.

"I just want it to end," she lamented.

"I get it, and it will," he soothed. She scoffed and shook her head incredulously.

"You don't get it though, Matt. He got in my head! He messed me up so bad that I barely slept because I didn't want to deal with the nightmares. They finally stopped after we slept together and now they're gonna come back and I'm just gonna drown in the fucking anxiety!" She raged, swinging her arms around wildly as she swayed slightly.

"With all the evidence you have on him, he's going away for life. And I'm not gonna sit here and pretend to know what it's like… what you went through. But I know a thing or two about trauma and nightmares and they get better. Yeah, he's awake, but soon he'll live his life in a cell and be far away from you," he pressed. She bit down on her lower lip to stop it from trembling. Her eyes prickling with tears she was fighting away. That overwhelming helpless feeling had returned along with flashes of Mr Lee's dead body on the floor.

"Matt… you're a lawyer but you're also a vigilante. You can't stand there and tell me that justice always gets served," she hissed quietly, keeping her voice to a minimum. He looked frustrated as he tilted his head looking in her direction.

"I know it doesn't. Believe me I do. But I still try to have faith in the system. This should be an open and shut case. The stuff you have on him will be enough to convince a jury and he'll be gone. And if by some miracle he gets out, I'll keep you safe," he sounded almost desperate and she wanted to believe him.

"Right, what are you gonna do, camp out on my fire escape every night to make me feel safe?" She scoffed bitterly.

"If I have to," he stated firmly. She blinked at him for a moment but her brain was too much of a mess to deal with whatever this was.

"I… I can't sit there in court and face him, Matt. I don't know if I can do it," she whispered brokenly. She hated feeling weak. It had been a rare occurrence in her life and she relished feeling in control. But her attack had flipped her upside down with that and she hated how badly it bothered her. People out there lived through worse things and she was still hung up on this. It made her feel small and stupid.

"You can do this. You're one of the most headstrong, stubborn people I've ever met. You want to bury this whole thing? Then you go to court and tell them what a monster he is. Tell your truth. Mr Lee's truth. Get justice," he said forcefully as he rested his hands on her shoulders. It was pretty motivational, she wouldn't lie. She'd never seen him in court but she bet he was a great lawyer.

She blew out a breath, reigning herself in. Panicking was getting her nowhere and there was truth to Matt's words. She wanted to have faith in the system but after everything she saw with Fisk, it was hard to. But she did have a lot of evidence and she herself was a victim and witness. It would be a good case. Once again it would just be a waiting game and she hated it. The thought of looking at that asshole in the eye made her stomach clench with fear. But she needed to take back that control and maybe that was the only way to do it.

"I uh… always seem to become a mess when you're around," she snorted self deprecatingly as she sniffled. She wrapped her arms around herself as Matt released his hold on her. The night air was a little chilly and she'd left her coat inside.

"I have that effect on people," he teased and she smiled at him.

"Thanks, I guess… for the pep talk. We should get inside," she mumbled awkwardly. She let her guard down around him too many times to be comfortable with it. He'd seen her vulnerable a few times now and it made her feel weird. She didn't like it.

"Right. Back to the double date," he smirked, shaking his head.

"I hope it's going well. It seems like it right?" She asked him as they got to the door. She opened it and he took her arm and it looked like she was leading him.

"I'd say so," he grinned, gesturing with his head. She looked over and saw Karen and Foggy sat close together, smiling and talking to each other. She felt a pang of envy watching them. She glanced at Matt as they made their way through the make of tables and people but his head was already tilted in her direction.

"What?" She asked softly.

"Nothing," he muttered, turning away from her again. Weird, but nothing new for him.

They finally reached the table and the pair smiled widely at them. She smiled back as they sat down. They had empty plates in front of them from dessert and in her place was a box.

"How was the cake?" Daphne asked.

"Amazing. The best cake ever," Foggy beamed, looking at Karen every so often like he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"It was. I think you'll really like it," Karen agreed with a warm smile. She really did like the woman and it would be nice to add to her new collection of friends. Something she never thought she'd want.

Karen excused herself to go to the restroom and Foggy watched her go with a love sick smile on his face.

"Going well?" She asked him. His eyes dropped to her then and be flushed with a nod.

"Better than I hoped. And I know things went a little… ass upwards at the end but I really appreciate you guys doing this for me. And I'm sorry, Daph," he frowned. He looked like a wounded puppy.

"It's fine. We ready cleared it up," Matt murmured, reaching over and patting Foggy’s arm with a smile.

"So… I really wanna walk her home. You know, get some one on one time, talk a little. Make the night last a little longer. But I'm just so…blegh ," he made a swirly motion with his hands and Matt chuckled.

"I've got your back, dude. You both seem to be taking cues from us all night. I think she's as 'blegh' as you are," Daphne teased, making the same hand gesture he did.

"I've not been taking cues from you two!" He defended with a pout.

"You really kinda have been," Matt snorted.

"You're the little brother mimicking his big brother," Daphne grinned. Foggy threw his napkin at her with a playful huff as they all laughed.

"Oh my god, I've been taking cues from a fake couple on a fake date. What is wrong with me?" Foggy whined.

"You're just nervous and want to make sure it goes right, there's nothing wrong with that," Matt smiled at him. It was kind of nice seeing Matt be a decent human to his best friend.

"Thanks, man," Foggy said sincerely. A truly touching moment.

Karen came back after a moment and Daphne glanced at Matt, acting mask in place. She leaned into him a little and smiled, watching his confused face turn to her.

"It's nice outside. I think we should walk back to your place, see the stars and all that. That sounds nice, right?" She asked sweetly. Matt seemed to follow her lead as he shot her a smile he'd never given her before. She wondered how many ladies had been on the receiving end of it.

"Of course," he said softly, lacing her hand that was on the table with his. He brought it up to his mouth and kissed it. A little over the top but he seemed to sell it well as Karen grinned at them. Daphne would deny until her last breath that her heart fluttered when he did it.

"That does sound nice actually," Karen murmured shyly, glancing at Foggy. Foggy quickly shot Daphne a look that she could only interpret as a mental high five before he looked back at the blonde.

"Sounds great," he grinned at her. It was kind of adorable how neither of them knew what to do and seemed to be following hers and Matt's lead, she started wondering just how far she could take it. How many seeds she could plant to get them to make a move on each other. She also felt kind of weird to know just how closely the other pair was watching them. She was very aware she had to stay in character for this to work. Maybe she had too much tequila for her to be overthinking this so much.

They all stood, Matt grabbing his cane and his glasses. He went to put them on but Daphne stopped him, her hand clasping around his.

"Leave them off. I like your eyes," she murmured, her other hand reaching up to his face. His eyes fluttered shut and he swallowed thickly as her fingertips teased his eyelids. She faintly heard a murmured 'aw' from Karen and she inwardly smirked. She removed her hand and he opened his eyes. It was weird how he seemed to look right at her even though he couldn't. He gave her a small smile and nod, slipping his glasses into his pocket.

She laced her hands with his and he used his cane as they navigated their way out. Karen and Foggy behind them. Once they got outside, she noticed the pair also holding hands. Matt's lips quirked up and she knew he knew it too. The four of them stopped on the sidewalk, about to go separate ways.

"It's been really fun guys," Daphne said warmly. She meant it too. Apart from the hiccup she'd actually had a good time. Fake date or not.

"We should do this again sometime," Karen said eagerly. Her cheeks flushed red at her words and she glanced at Foggy like he was going to say no to another date. But Foggy had a dopey grin on his face that he couldn't even hide. She didn't want to say anything about how her and Matt weren't really dating. That was something they'd figure out another time. Foggy could tell her it hadn't worked out and that was that. But they could still all hang out. Foggy and Karen as a couple with her and Matt as 'not really friends but sometimes okay with each other'.

(Continued in next post)

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

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ktheist · 4 years

Text

i give this soulmateship : 11/10

a soulmate-esque fic.

pairings: jungkook x reader

words: 6.151

synopsis: in which your whole world shifted when you found out that your soulmate is the frat brother of your one night stand the morning after said one night stand.

alternatively, “these feelings are getting in the way of my heartless bitch reputation.”

“Just admit it, god damn it,” Jungkook throws his head back in frustration, if you look closer, you can see the lines forming between his brows, “we’re soulmates!”

“Too soon to tell.” The skepticism you’ve been wearing around your shoulders will be the death of you.

He pushes his sleeve to just below his elbow despite the marking being easily visible on the spot just below the crook between his thumb and index finger. That one spot you touched when your hand brushed against his as you were about to open the bathroom door somewhere in the frat you just had a one night stand at. Hosung? Hoseok? Ho-something is still waiting at the end of the hallway for a ‘rewind’ of what happened last night just because you were both wasted and barely remembered anything.

“Touch me, right here.” He smacks the skin on his forearm. Nothing happens. If not for a little pink painting the area where that loud ‘pap!’ landed.

“No, that’d be animal abuse.”

He doesn’t seem to care about the comment as you trace back from where you came from, ignoring the ‘who was it? namjoon? hoseok?’ (ah, so it’s hoseok) that closes in on your trail. Jungkook’s pep-talk goes on for another quarter minute before he curses and walks pass you into the room you’re heading.

“Motherfucker! That was my soulmate!” The scene is unusually arousing with your self-proclaimed soulmate on top of Hoseok whose morning wood is painstakingly visible in his nude glory while he pales at Jungkook’s unrelenting threats to ‘stay as far away from ____ as possible and if I so much as –’

While they’re at it, you gather what’s yours: bra, underwear, phone and shorts which gets swallowed by Hoseok’s shirt before making a beeline towards the door but not before trying to wave at Jimin with a hand full of bra that you quickly hide behind your back shamefully.

Just when you thought you’ve escaped the lion’s den. The lion comes running at you in a form of Jeon Jungkook with only a shirt and boxers on, shouting your name like a man madder than he turns out to be.

You barely made it into the Uber when he skids to a stop just inches from the vehicle as it begins to move.

“Don’t look but Jeon Jungkook is staring at you!” Han Na squeals as she pinches a handful of your oversized sweater that you changed into after dumping Hoseok’s shirt in the laundry basket.

Something tells you Jungkook can sniff the Hoseok off of that shirt if you came to class in it and it’s not going to be good.

“Can you not,” you attempt to elbow the girl with the hand which sleeve she’s clinging onto in her excitement which doesn’t seem to give the desired effect of shutting her up, “make it obvious that we know he’s watching?”

“Yeah - no. I mean, no! Jeon Jungkook is your soulmate and I will not shut up about this until I have grandchildrens so the only time I shut up is when I’m dead -” At this point where her voice is a pitch (she might as well go up to the front and use the mic), you’re willing to accept any kinds of alternative even if it came in a giant ‘fuck you’ box handed to you by the gods themselves when you look up to see thee Jung Hoseok himself - except he’s more decent.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

“Yes.” Han Na chirps almost instantly, waving him away with her hand only to frown when you forcefully lower it with yours.

She never liked him ever since he beat her in a dance off.

“Nope.” The ‘p’ pops a little as you will yourself to show a tweak of human decency.

“So,” Hoseok starts, eyes trained on the professor but nowhere does it shows that he’s listening to a thing the elder woman is saying, “you’re Jungkook’s soulmate, huh?”

You’re about to roll your eyes at the mention of fate before the next words get your jaw dropping on the ground and you can only hope you don’t look like an idiot.

“I was kinda hoping you’d say yes if I asked you out.”

Silence.

Well, not actual silence since there’s none of that when the professor’s only taking 2 seconds break between her words but there’s definitely an awkward pause between you two. For one, you don’t expect anything to come out of a drunken hook up and two, he must either be dumb or brave if he chooses to ignore the glare of daggers shooting in his direction from a certain male specimen on the other side of the room.

“Hoseok, I...”

“How long are you planning to avoid me before you admit it?” Jungkook, out of absolutely nowhere (actually from the other side of the lecture hall), falls in step with you.

All that muscle wasted to a single cat and mouse game when he could be running for the track team.

“Stop stalking me.”

It comes as a surprise when he abruptly stops in his trek which consequently makes you stop a step after him. Cheeks puffed and mouth pursed. The image is almost comical for a guy with his built yet makes your chest full of something warm and tender.

“I’m not –” he balls his hands in the air as though he can grab hold of the frustrating situation and put a stop to it.

Taking a deep breath, he looks back at you with controlled exasperation and a cooler tone, “I am not stalking you.”

“Um, chasing after the car I left? Check. Following me around as soon as I get out of class? Check. I mean the list can go on if you continue stal–”

“Stop,” he presses his palm against your mouth, “using that word.”

Eyes looking around in case anyone caught a piece of the conversation only to realize that he’s touching you without your permission and quickly retracts his hand as though they burn.

The look on his face screams ‘oh shit’ as his mouth stretches across his teeth into an unsure smile.

You fumble with your phone. All of a sudden swiping becomes the most difficult task to date as it takes almost a minute for you to access the front camera. And sure as day, the markings are there. Wildflowers bloom across your face where his touch is still hot. Purple, blue, yellow colors your otherwise natural skin tone.

Jungkook notices the glance you give his hand that’s inked with similar wildflowers as he clutches it and unclutches it.

“Uh, sor-”

He doesn’t even get to finish his words because you’re already dashing down the hallway towards the washroom as though it’s some ink that can be rinsed off.

(But hey, you tried.)

The rumor about Jungkook’s floral engraved fingertips spreads like wildfire. The campus heartthrob found his soulmate. You can only imagine how many hearts he’s broken by using those hands out in the open to wave at his friends and perform those handshakes every time he sees his pals.

You, on the other hand, opts for a Kumamon printed mask. Han Na made a slip of a tongue that black would contrast glaringly against the colorful markings on your face if the mask sag lower than the markings line even just a bit.

The good news is, everyone’s looking for someone who has the same markings as Jungkook but on their hands. Not face. Which leads to you managing to lay low the whole week until the markings fade off and you’re finally soulmate-free. Or appear to be.

First thing you do is hop into an Uber to a party on Friday as soon as your class ends. Your friends are already (drunk) texting you to hurry up because apparently you’re the only one with a night class among your group of friends.

“You’re hereeee!” Han Na spills some beer on you while she hugs you, “girl, where’s your red cup? I’ll get-”

You manage to hold her before she fades into the crowd, saying that you’ll get it yourself and leaving her with your friends who are halfway to getting wasted.

It is in that moment that the gnawing guilt in the corner of your heart dissipates as your eyes catch sight of a certain well-built basketball ace with Jennie. Obviously whatever words they’re saying to each other consist of compliments with one objective in mind. To get into each other’s pants.

Almost as though you’re spiritually (ha!) connected, Jungkook looks up. Those hazed eyes turns twice their sizes as your lips part slightly from shock or a big fat guilt of being caught, you’re not sure.

Han Na has been glaring at Jungkook who’s been giving you the puppy eye since you came back without a cup and a whole lot of frown.

At some point, after a few cups of beers passed around, you’re laughing and dancing with the girls. Any unpleasant thoughts now pushed to the back of your mind.

You must have strayed away from your group when not-all-of-a-suddenly, Jimin’s hands are on your hips and yours on his shoulder as you both sway rhythmically. He rests his forehead on yours, sporting that cute, eye smile. Having been friends when people started talking about him after summer break once he put on some muscle and bleached his hair,boy would you be lying if you said you were far from joining the having-the-hots-for-Jimin bandwagon.

He starts to lean in and you wanted to stand on your tip toes to close the distance between you and him...

And then you’re embracing sheer air.

“Stay the fuck away from her, you hear me?” Someone shouts from somewhere on the dance floor.

Looking over to where the voice comes from, a circle starts to form on your left where a certain brown head is visible between the gap of drunken spectators. You push your way through the crowd, worry fills your chest as you internally dread the sight you’re about to see.

Sure enough, Jimin is on the floor, cupping his cheek while he glares daggers at his frat brother. You wedge yourself between the two men, acting as a human barricade.

“Jungkook, seriously?” Your voice is hushed and rushed, eyes briefly scanning the crowd.

Some appear disinterested, some annoyed at the interruption but the most irritating ones are the ones taking out their phones as you speak.

“Get out of the way, ____.” He orders. The nerve of him.

“Or,” standing straighter, you challenge him through gritted teeth, “what?”

His gaze falters as though it’s a hypothetical slap to his face whilst your heart accelerates. Your body is pink and hot and yearns for him to touch you but if there’s one thing, you’re good at, it’s keeping your hands to yourself when you need to.

The tension is almost tangible. It tastes bitter than the feeling at the back of your throat. A part of you wants to step back and say sorry for laying your hands on another man when you know who Jungkook is and what he means to you. Another part, or the more reasonable one as you dupe it, tells you to walk away with your pride in tact.

Before the inner war manages to convince you to do something stupid, a shout from somewhere in the crowd makes you break into cold sweat. And it seems, everyone else.

“Cops! Fuck!”

It feels like the series of events from the moment you found out who your soulmate is, leads up to this very moment: shouts, bodies pushing, panicked wails and red and blue lights pouring from the windows. When you look over your shoulder, Jimin’s already fled the scene probably the second someone screams ‘the cops are here!’

“We gotta run!” Are the last words that Jungkook said before all hell breaks loose.

You both start running.

Through the backdoor, into the hilly streets, past houses and buildings until you lose sight of your fellow college buddies who were running along with you, until the signature red and blue lights are replaced with the monotonous street light, until you spot a similar yet dissimilar markings upon people’s faces as they pass you by.

“Did we,” you pant, “run,” another pant, “all the way to the city?”

Jungkook laughs a breathy laugh, head lolled to the back while he looks at the sky as though thanking the stars for saving him - and you have a sneaky suspicion his gratefulness extends to your behalf as well as he squeezes your hand.

“Sorry.” His eyes go wide when it dawns on him (and you).

The blue, purple and yellow wildflowers paint both your hands where they touch, appearing darker in the absence of light as Jungkook releases his hold. Holding back the senseless impulse to grab that hand again, you slip your in your pocket.

“Thanks for saving my ass back there.”

He shrugs, “was saving my own ass but figured I’d bring you along.”

A flash of yellow enters your periphery, “look! there’s a cab, we can grab a ride back.”

“Wait,” Jungkook’s freezes for half a second as though the word left his lips before he can even register it, “what if they’re waiting for us?”

“The cops?” You lull your head slightly to the side, one eyebrow lifted questioningly.

“Yeah.” He begins, “maybe they figured out we’re all from the same uni and are waiting at the house. Uh, I don’t know.”

“Okay.” You nod, “so we hang around here for a bit.”

“Yep.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah.”

A good, solid thirty seconds past before he steps in front of you, halting you altogether. Lips set in a firm, serious line but the pink on his cheeks and ears only serve to make him less intimidating - if that’s what he’s aiming for.

“Be honest, why were you all over Jimin? Do you like him?”

“Uh,” you raise your eyebrows at him as though asking if he’s for real.

When his own don’t lift up, you realize your reluctance to answer is the reason for that flash of hurt in his eyes.

“It’s because I was talking to Jennie, huh?”

“What? No!” You take a step back as though the idea itself physically appalls you, “I mean I’m petty but not that petty and you,” you wave a colored index finger in his face in a warning manner, “are giving yourself too much credit.”

With that, you step to the side, leaving him behind only to have him fall into pace with you. Flushed cheeks and a cute pout, he shoots another round of questions, “why don’t you accept me as your soulmate? Do you... hate me that much?”

The street lamp under which you stop bears witness to furrowed eyebrows and the 30 seconds of interval you take to muster your words.

“You know when something doesn’t work out and the girl tells the guy it’s not their fault but it kind of is?” You take in a deep breath, hoping, praying to the stars that there’s a reset button because honest to Fate, Jungkook will either hate you or you’re going to hate yourself for doing this to a perfectly, attractive and amazing guy.

And the thing is, you know he’s amazing. You were in the same circle of friends at some point, had an intellectual conversation enough to shift the dynamics from acquaintances to kinda-friends, he may even be listed in your future-fuck-candidate but -

“This time, it’s literally, literally me. I just don’t like the idea of getting with someone just because we’re ‘soulmates’.” Hands gesturing in the space between you and him, you sigh, shoulders sagging, “I mean before this, we’re just a friend of a friend’s and now you’re telling me we’re supposed to spend our whole lifetime together?”

Jungkook drops his gaze, shoes scuffing the hard concrete as he keeps his hands buried in his pockets. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three heartbeats.

After the tenth count, he looks up at you with the same eyes he did that morning and your chest tightens, “I’m not telling you to spend your whole lifetime with me.”

“But give me a chance to show you my definition of soulmates.” His eyes literally sparkle like the stars as he waits for you to respond and you’re going over the pros and cons in your head.

The pros are: your soulmate is Jeon-fucking-Jungkook.

The cons: everything else.

“Okay, but,” You warn, heart palpitating. Somewhere in your head, sirens are going off as a part of you wills your body to turn the other way and run run run, “I can call this soulmateship off anytime I want when I know it’s not working out.”

“Deal.” The hesitant lines between his eyebrows ceases as he grins that grin that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” Jungkook plops next to you, that boyish smile on his face, “cute sweater.”

“Uh,” you hesitate for a heartbeat because Han Na is either going to kill him for last Friday, she doesn’t know the details but he’s easily her least favorite person when she put two and two together or she’s going to kill you for giving her spot out to the guy she’s going to eventually also kill, “thanks.”

It’s a grey, oversized sweater and the only one that you have in your closet that’s big enough for the sleeves to fall past half of your hand so the markings won’t be as visible while Jungkook dons his black and red jersey, the cuff stopping just a few centimeters past his wrist.

“Nice pen.” You note the lack of notebooks on his table while the pen you saw him brought lies lonely by itself.

His cheeks turn red as he forces out a laugh, “Oh this? It’s Jimin’s.”

You blink, surprised, “you guys made up?”

“No, I sneaked into his room and stole it this morning.”

You can’t help but smile at his pettiness. Idiot.

As though the stars heard him, Jimin slides into the chair in front of him along with Han Na who’s shooting accusatory looks at you. You try to mouth ‘I’ll tell you later’ to her, only to have her use her hands to gesture her non-understanding, leading to Jimin noticing her and then looking over at you and Jungkook.

That makes the third surprised face that’s thrown at you today since Jungkook sat next to you. The second one was from Han Na and the first was from Jennie who passed your row to join her friends on the far left side of the hall.

“Hey pretty, how’s your weekend?” Jimin smiles and he makes it clear that he’s only talking to you with the additional pet name (much to Jungkook’s chagrin).

Before you begin to form a placid sentence in hopes to tone down the growing tension between the two brothers, the professor’s elderly voice greets the class. Jimin being Jimin, he turns his body to the front as he focuses on the lesson. Han Na gives you one last look that screams ‘this isn’t over’ before she turns to the lesson too.

Not long after, Jungkook snickers from next to you as you nudge his side in an attempt to tell him to focus while Jimin takes off the cover of his iPad and puts it back on and then continues scanning the floor below his seat. When Han Na notices the abundance of movements from the person sitting next to her, she must have asked even though you didn’t hear it. And then she starts mimicking his action of looking down as well.

“Give me,” you gesture below the table, palm facing the ceiling.

“What? No!” He half-shouts and half-whispers, gone is the mirth on his face, replaced by a look of betrayal and dissatisfaction as he holds the stylus.

“He’s clearly suffering.” You emphasize the last word, making the man look at his poor brother who’s getting more and more frustrated by the second.

Then he hands you the pen. You don’t miss the extra length between his fingers and the other end for you to take without having your fingers brush. Once you’re in possession of it, you toss it in the aisle next to you.

“Everything good, Jimin?”

The aforementioned man looks at you, distraught but still managing to shoot you a smile, “yeah, think I might have pay a visit at the lost and found. Can’t find my stylus anywhere.”

“Oh,” you throw your eyes to the floor under your seat, peeking through the gap and pretending to look until your eyes land on the piece of stylus that you previously tossed, “is that it?”

Relief washes over his feature as he practically leaps for the pencil as though a second late and it’ll disappear from his very eyes. Or so to speak.

“He was so gonna cry,” Jungkook comments from next to you once he’s sure Jimin is focused on what the professor’s saying.

When he meets your gaze, his hands shoot up in a surrendering manner, eyes wide as though you’re the one not making sense here, “I was gonna put it in his locker when I get back!”

You roll your eyes, “negative one point for the house of asshole-ry.”

Jungkook looks like he’s about to protest just as the professor announces the existence of a test in a fortnight’s time. Then he channels all his energy to panicking and asking the person on his other side about the test just because you sarcastically told him to pay attention in class next time, idiot.

The video’s of you, Jimin and Jungkook is out.

Though the last thing you want is to be caught up in a rumor between two attractive frat brothers, it doesn’t seem too bad minus a few random people coming up to you and talking as though you’ve been good old buddies. Taehyung being on of them. You’ve been hanging out with him for almost two days just because Eunha’s friends with him and invited him for lunch even though your group was faring perfectly well without his presence before.

“So, you’re Jungkook’s soulmate, huh?”

Before you manage to say anything, they’re already embellishing the answer one after another. It went from Jungkook being rejected to Jimin swooping in and then to the two boys having a beef over you. By the end of it, Taehyung is nodding and making all kinds of facial reactions.

“They’re pathological liars,” you explain, “half of those things aren’t true.”

The way Taehyung’s been nodding for the umpteenth time makes you wonder if his neck is okay. Before you manage to ponder further, your eyes fall on the group of boys that entered the common hall. Amongst them, the talked-about soulmate of yours.

It seems as though the spiritual, telepathic, hoodoo voodoo connection is real as Jungkook, for some unknown reason, scans the vicinity and his eyes land smack dab on you.

Your friends are making weird, kissy sounds as he begins to tread over.

“Guys, please stop.” You rub your temples, dropping your head in order to hide the heat on your face.

“Hey, sup guys.” Jungkook chirps, he sounds closer than you’d like as your friends collectively greet him back, some high-fiving him from the pap! pap! sounds.

The moment you’ve been dreading comes when Eunha nudges you and you can tell by the lack of chattering that all your friends are waiting, anticipating, “____, don’t you wanna say hi?”

Putting on a fake smile, you breathe out as you look up only to find Jungkook looking back at you with that boyish grin.

“Hi.” You half-whisper in exasperation.

“Hey.” His tone drops an octave lower, almost as though that ‘hey’ was a whisper meant only for you before he turns to your friends, grin widening, “you mind if I steal ___ for a bit?”

“Yes.” Han Na replies, curt, short as she smiles at him in a ‘bye-bye’ kind of manner.

She hasn’t like him much since you briefly and lightly explained why you weren’t acting yourself since you came back without a drink and crossed arms.

“No! Pffft. We don’t mind!” Nayeon says over the silence that lapses at Han Na’s response.

They chorus words of eager agreement. If you don’t know any better, you’d think they just want to be rid of you.

“So I was thinking,” Jungkook breaks the quietness as you walk down the hallway, completely unaware of the curious gazes shot his way, “this Sunday. You and me. Theme park.”

“Like a date?”

He rolls his eyes, “no, I’m gonna kidnap you and dump your body in a haunted house.”

This time, it’s your turn to roll yours but the smile on your lips gives away the playfulness of the atmosphere.

“I don’t understand how a date is going to change my mind.”

“You’ll see.” Jungkook winks and with that, he starts walking backwards, “wear something blue!”

You can’t help but snort at the navy blue bomber jacket he has on. The shade, similar to your jeans which is the only blue you have on. He doesn’t seem to mind when he greets you with a hi and a drop of his gaze to his white Adidas before looking back at you with a smile you can’t quite decipher, “you look good.”

“Thanks.” You comment, knowing his taste in fashion has always screamed ‘cute, attractive guy who’s way out of your league alert’, “you too.”

He runs a hand through his fluff of a hair and make a mental note to ask for his haircare routine.

The bullet train you take gets more and more packed with each stop. You don’t miss the subtle shift Jungkook does as he stands between you and the crowd, trapping you between the doors that doesn’t open at least for until five more stops.

“So what did you do last night?”

“Partied, you know, at Taehyung’s.”

“This Taehyung guy, is he nice?” He narrows his eyes.

“He’s okay, he’s Eunha’s friend.”

Jungkook smiles, nodding as his averts his gaze to something behind you where the window opens up to the cityscape.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

A pause. A hard stare from your part and subsequently a sigh from him.

“Okay,” Jungkook gives in to your questioning look as he returns one that says ‘but you’re not gonna like it’, “I hear he’s been saying stuff about us.”

“Which is...”

“Harmless but I figured you’re not the kind of person that wants to get involved in rumors. He’s been saying we’re soulmates and you refused because of Jimin and something about Hoseok asking you out.” He shrugs, lower lip jutting out briefly, unbothered.

“He did ask me out.”

Just then, the train comes to yet another stop. The last thing you see is Jungkook’s baffled face before slipping past the crowd and out of the train. The afternoon air is chilly even with three layers of clothing. The streets of Yongin forever busy with the hustle and bustle of life. Something sweet and savory fills your nose as you approach a food vendor selling fish-shaped buns.

“Wait,” Jungkook calls from somewhere not too far away, “what do you mean he asked you out?”

He comes to a stop next to you as you pay for the buns, handing one to him as you continue walking in the same direction of the sea of people towards the flashy yellow gates of the park.

“He asked me out and then I said no.”

“Oh, cool.” A look of relief washes over him as he nonchalantly nods but the smile he hides beneath the fish shaped bun does not get past your hawk-like observation.

Once you dump the paper bag that the buns came with, Jungkook’s already smiling from ear-to-ear as he looks at something behind you where the source of screaming comes from.

“Actually, the merry-go-round seems fun.”

“You’re not for real,” the look on Jungkook’s face is almost comical as it starts to fall at the dawning seriousness that you’d rather choose sculptures of horses, ponies, carriages and what not than the heaving, suspended vessel he’s eyeing, “are you?”

“Unless, of course, you wanna ride something else then we can go on separate rides and have fun on our ow-”

“Merry-go-round, here we come!” Jungkook almost shouts as he begins on his trek, trailing behind him, you try to hold back your laughter at his obvious disinterest in the kiddy ride but preserved either way.

He looks almost surreal, like a modern knight as he playfully waves around his imaginary sword in his attempt to ‘protect the princess!’ who rides a violet pony just a couple horses away from you and Jungkook. Her hearty laugh rings like bell chimes as the ride comes to a stop and he got off first, holding his hand out for her.

“Are you soulmates?” She looks from Jungkook to you, her tiny hands wrapped around his finger and yours.

All of a sudden, an unbearable weight settles on your shoulder as you force a smile, “yeah, kinda.”

“Then why don’t you have pretty birdies on your faces like mommy and daddy?”

She had waved to a couple in their late 30′s on the other side of the rail. Their markings a monochrome of sparrows, apparent on their faces. A glaring pronouncement of ownership and commitment for those who’s found the other part of their soul.

“Well, because,” the pause you take is long enough to demand the gaze of the girl and Jungkook’s ‘I got this’ smile.

“Because we’re not ready to like each other like soulmates do.”

You thank the heaven’s that, in that moment, you’ve reached the exit slash entrance of the ride. Bowing to the little girl’s parents, you gush over how a sweetheart she is when her mother apologizes for her handfulness. She waves at you and Jungkook as one hand grasps onto her father before the family disappears into the crowd.

“You chose the first ride, now it’s my turn and I choose,” Jungkook grins, index finger pointing to the initial ride he’s been eyeing just as the vessel curves forward after remaining suspended in the air for three seconds, shouts of terror ensues, “that.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you can feel the bead of sweat running down your temple.

“Whoever thought about a floating boat is - AAAAAAAH!” There’s no telling whether you’ve lost your voice (you suspect yes, from the soreness in your throat) or whether it got swallowed by the half-dozen of voices from the rest of the people suffering the same, horrible, death-potent fate as you.

The machinery remains suspended in the air, defying the gravity that causes your hair to fall over your visage before it curves downwards without so much as a warning. Then, you’re back to having your mouth wide open like a flytrap, gripping onto the only thing keeping you from being tossed into oblivion.

It feels as though the ride goes on for hours before it actually stops and by the time it does, you realize you have your eyes screwed shut and the railing you were holding onto for dear life isn’t a piece of metal pole that you though it was because for one, it wouldn’t have fingers and two, the thumb shouldn’t have the ability to rub half-circles on the back of your hand.

“You okay?” The creased forehead and troubled eyes are enough to tell you that you’re going to have to go through another week of sweaters and hiding under sleeves.

Jungkook’s free hand reaches for you only to stop halfway, an indecipherable look on his face before he stands up. The hand you’ve been gripping slipping away from your touch as he pockets them inside his jacket.

By the time you were off the ride, the feelings in your legs gradually return and you manage to walk properly, the warmth of his hand still lingers as your hands sway by your side.

“Sorry, I, uh, didn’t know you were af-”

“I was shook,” you cut him off, determined to get things straight, “not afraid.”

“If you mean screaming your lungs out like there’s no tomorrow is shookethness, then okay.” His tone is laced with mockery as a corner of his lips lifts up.

“It’s called freedom is speech, Kook,” you roll your eyes, trying and failing to hide the heat on your cheeks, “get with the culture.”

Jungkook never lets you live after that. He’s been abusing the word shook, shooketh or shookethness for every event which the word are not remotely applicable but also won a shark plushie for you.

For the next few rides, despite in spite of himself, Jungkook chose milder ones namely the dodgems and scrambler and you go on to play a few games until you suggest the roller coaster. You take whole solid minutes to convince the basketball ace that you do want to get on the ride and deny every allegations tumbling out of his mouth about you choosing said ride because you want him to have fun too because ‘I’m having loads of fun already!’ he says as he gestures towards the gold fishes that you’re about to hopefully catch.

The sight itself is endearing and ridiculous at the same time because knowing the athletic male and the amount of sports he joins during your university’s sports week, stealing candy from a baby is more thrilling than gold fish-fishing.

“I’ve always wanted to go on these rides at least once in my lifetime.”

Silence lapses before Jungkook looks straight at you, “...that’s kinda sad.”

With a kick to the leg, you leave him calling (or laughing, you’re not sure) for you while apologizing and handing the 2 tickets worth of net back to the vendor. He slips in after you, the excitement of the twist and turns of the route already having him grinning.

“Wanna hold my hand?”

You’re not sure if he was joking when he holds out his hand, palm facing the sky but there’s no mistaking wide eyed gaze he gives you as you slip yours in his just before the train starts moving. Purple, yellow and blue begins to bloom over yours and his hands as your grip gets firmer with every dip and turn.

It doesn’t seem all that scary, these rides.

The subway is less crowded, the shocking red seats remaining mostly vacant. Your colorful hands clasp over the shark plush that you hug to yourself. Your side is pressed against the backseat, knees brushing against his while his index finger brushes the back of your hand before it hooks around yours as you catch the last train back. Outside, the star-like lights dot the cityscape. He’s humming an old tune that was popular back when you were children.

A thumb war begins to break out except you end up holding his index finger with your whole hand in an attempt to stop him from poking your poor shark plush. Something warm blooms in your chest as laughter tumbles out of the both of you.

“These feelings are getting in the way of my heartless bitch reputation,” you say, a moment later as you bite your lower lip.

A pause. A silence.

“So,” he fails, (terribly, if you may say so yourself) to contain the forming smile as his eyes do so as well, curving in crescent moons but brighter than the luminescent lights in the ceiling, “you’re saying you like me.”

“See, that’s the thing,” you wave your free index finger in at him, “you’re jumping to conclusions.”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he dares, that glint in his eyes brighter than the stars that brought you together, “tell me you don’t think we’ll end up liking each other that day we started talking about peanut butter on pizza.”

You scrunch your nose in a muscle response, “which we settled is the equivalence of pineapples on pizza.”

“Which is a great topping,” the repeated raise of his eyebrow tells you to admit the superior fact of the matter but you shake your head playfully, “shut your cute ass up.”

Silence, a comfortable one, lapses as the train beeps, alerting the last remaining seconds before the doors close. You end with your backs against the rest, staring at your reflection in the widow directly across from you. Wildflowers ark Jungkook’s jaw as he rests his chin on top of your head and peeks just beneath your hairline. Nevermind the linger of the mark for the next few days.

“I give this soulmateship an 11/10.” You murmur underneath your breath like a whisper meant only for him as you feel the squeeze on your hand.

“I like you too, idiot.”

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#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts imagines #jungkook fic #networkbangtan #bts fic #bts jungkook #bts #jungkook imagines #jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts x reader #bts x y/n

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summerstardust · 4 years

Note

I'm a simple girl, so I have a simple request, dh master x reader fluff, whatever you like x

Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy this! 💜

Quarantine Breakdown

Dhawan!Master x Reader

Summary: The reader is stuck on Earth because of the Coronavirus pandemic, when The Master drops by.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, depression, and a breakdown

Word Count: 2129

There was a random knock on your door, jarring you from your reading. You were too confused to act at first, you hadn’t ordered anything online from any shop, you hadn’t even ordered takeout. There was no reason for there to be a knock at your door today. You found your bookmark, but not as fast as you would have hoped. The bookmark, having fallen and cocooned itself within the blanket strewn across your lap, made itself very hard to find. The knocking increased rapidly as you finally escaped your soft prison, placing the book on the nearby coffee table, which was riddled with random objects and dishware. You stumbled to the door, legs sore from sitting for so long. You rifled a hand through your still slightly damp hair as you opened the door quickly, having grown annoyed by the knocking that seemed to grow in volume and in pace. Whoever was on the other side of your front door seemed to be in an impatient mood. Your eyes went wide with shock when the identity of the annoying knocking person was revealed.

“What are you doing here, Master?” Your tone was confused, and a bit angry, he had been unusually quiet for months, ceasing calls and texts and especially visits. You assumed that he got into trouble with some alien government he tried to scam once in the past or he was aware of the current coronavirus pandemic and just wanted to avoid the whole debacle, or, even more likely, both simultaneously. No matter what his reasoning for not communicated for so long, it still stung.

“What?! Y/N, I thought that you would be happy to see me! I’m sorry for not talking to you for a week,” your mouth fell open in shock, which he didn’t notice due to his rambling and dramatic hand movements, “but I’ve been busy, scheming, planning, over throwing planets … did you cut your hair…” He finally noticed something, at least, not the fact that his week of adventure had been four months of quarantine for you, but at least it was something. You allowed him into your living room, hoping that he would close the door behind him as you picked up and organized some stacks of books, random discarded hoodies and old takeout menus that might become useful if The Master were to spend the night.

“Oh, yeah, I might have had a breakdown a couple weeks ago and just made an impulsive decision based on a couple months of questioning if I would look good with a fringe…,” you looked at him in the middle of tidying up to see The Master now shocked. You imagined that your face and demeanor mirrored his current appearance when you opened the door, which might have explained his smirk then. The look of being verbally or situationally lost and left to pick up the pieces was funny to witness, and confusion and shock looked very cute on his face, making this situation bearable.“Do you like it?!”

He stuttered a bit, looking anywhere but your face, “Y-yes, I like it. You look … nice.” He stroked his eyebrow with his finger before helping you move some books from the coffee table, he still did not understand exactly what situation he left you in. With the general area around the coffee table and couch relatively clear, you offered him a seat while you went to go make tea.

He didn’t take you up on that offer, however. He followed you into the kitchen, resolving to lean against the counter, staring at you as you worked. He was still confused, but his shock mellowed a bit. You were always a mystery to him.You were a strange little human that made him feel things, that was meant to be an impossibility. Now he had to work out the mystery of what had occurred in your life since he dropped you off at your flat. And given the fact that he agonized over the mystery of how you had so much power over him, he preferred not to overwork himself.

“How long have I been gone, for you?” You looked at him in the middle of a journey to retrieve a jug of milk. His face was calm, but his eyes were large and sad, searching every part of your body, agonizingly trying to find any differences in you or your personality other than your new haircut. He feared that you might have done more to yourself during your self described breakdown.

“Almost five months. You dropped me off right before the quarantine was enacted.” you handed him a purple mug you had bought for him, but he insisted that you keep it in case he threw it during one of his infamous fits of rage. He thanked you for the tea and acknowledged the time apart, but questioned the quarantine. Five months wasn’t awful by his standards, maybe to yours, but you were human. He knew, however, how much trauma and tragedy can make a short time feel like forever and make a person desperate for the agony to be over.

“You know, the covid-19 crisis. The crisis reaching pandemic levels that certain world leaders are trying to ignore until it goes away. You know, that quarantine.” You tried to joke, both to cheer yourself up from the past five months of boredom and to try and get The Master to smile. He did not, he kept staring at you, eyes searching for pain in your words and actions.

He placed his mug down on the kitchen counter, then softly removed your mug from your hands and placed it on the counter joining his own. He turned back to you, stepping closer, ghosting his fingers over your own, secretly asking your permission to hold your hands. Which you accepted, interlocking your fingers.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke so softly it alarmed you. He had only spoken with you this softly one moment before, after being trapped on Earth for 77 years. He brought your interlocked fingers up to his lips to kiss your knuckles, “I did not mean to be away for so long. I wouldn't have even left you if I knew you would be forced to be on Earth alone.” You removed his hand from yours, his eyes shone with hurt at the loss of contact until he realized that you were trying to readjust the two of you into a hug. The Master clung to you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He would occasionally kiss and nip at your soft skin, but go back to breathing in your scent, grounding himself in your comforting presence. He hated being alone without you. You hated being alone without him. Neither of you spoke about this, but you both knew of the others feelings.

“You would tell me if you are hurting right?” He hugged you slightly tighter, causing the buttons of his waistcoat to dig into your stomach.

“Of course, why?” He could tell that you weren’t lying and he smiled at your loyalty, but brought himself back to what you had mentioned.

“You said that you had a breakdown.”

“Well, I did message you. You didn’t answer, but I guess that has to do with a weird time thing.” He shook his head in disbelief at your human memory.

“Yes, weird time thing, thank you for using the technical term I taught you. My phone will adjust to the time correction, eventually.” As soon as he said that, almost like magic, his phone went off with a series of dings and vibrations.

“Why isn’t it automatic? Like when you go to a different time zone?” The Master looked at you in the eye, and you knew what he was going to say.

“Weird time thing.” The two of you simultaneously spoke. The Master began to scroll through the berate of old messages that finally appeared, growing more and more disgruntled and worried with each new message. His forehead creced and his brows furrowed, his mouth was set in a permanent frown. Upon reading one message, he drew his lip into his mouth and bit it anxiously, something you had never seen him do. Maybe it was a habit he picked up from watching you do it so many times. But he quickly returned to his seriously stern expression when he realized you were watching him.

You were tired of this, and you didn’t want to see his reactions to the voicemails you left him, which were even more anxiety ridden and depressed in nature. You tore the phone from his grip and pocketed it. Before he could complain, you enveloped him into another hug.

“I’m fine now, Master. You’re here. Please stop worrying about me.” He reciprocated the hug, combing through your hair with his long fingers.

“I will never stop worrying about you -” You cut him off, guessing what he was going to say.

“Yes, because I am a pathetic little human. I'm from too fragile of a species to actually take care of myself properly. Blah. Blah. Blah. I heard this speech five months ago!” You chuckled into his neck, which he loved the feeling of, but he corrected you.

“Actually, I was going to say that I will never stop worrying about you because I care about you.” You tried to look at his face, but The Master’s tight grip on you kept you pressed against him. The two of you never talked about your feelings toward each other, but both of you knew that feelings were present. You would both hold each other for long periods of time, like this one, and you would jokingly call out to each other with the monicure ‘my loving spouse’. The two of you would occasionally say that you loved each other, but always in tones of jest to try and mask the truth and weight of the words.

Out of nowhere, The Master shot backwards from the hug, placing his hands on your forearms to keep you in place, as he cracked a cheeky smile, “Idea! Do you want to get off of this miserable planet and go on an adventure?”

You breathed a sigh of relief, desperate to do something off of the planet Earth and to get out of that emotional state, “Absolutely! An adventure, anywhere sounds fantastic!” His smile grew even wider at your response. He rolled his shoulders back in confidence, grabbing you by the neck and giving you a kiss on the forehead before running to your door and, subsequently, his TARDIS, pulling you in towe. He bounded inside, leaving you to close the door of the TARDIS, as you had left him in a similar state earlier. However, The Master’s excited attitude crumbled as a loud beeping began emitting from the console.

“What is that noise?” You questioned by his side, trying to understand the Gallifrian writing flashing on the console screen.

“It’s an alarm.” He grumbled, he leaned his hands on the console, his head falling down between his shoulders.

“Yeah, I can see that, but alarming you about what? What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing,” he said sarcastically, raising his head and talking with his hands dramatically, “Just an alarm informing us that no individuals can leave the planet Earth or this period in time for the foreseeable future until the virus dies down!” He slumped down onto a nearby sofa, his head falling in his hands. You walked over to sit beside him, wrapping an arm around his back to massage his shoulders and leaning your head against his.

“I know how much you hate Earth, Master, especially being stuck on it, but at least you won’t be alone. You have me this time.” He looked up at you, eyes holding back tears. He didn’t want to do this all over again.

“ I love you, Y/N.” This was his way of thanking you for being beside him when no one was before, and also his promise to not leave you alone like he just had. It might have been accidental, but he felt guilty. A tear fell from his warmly inviting eyes and you reached up to wipe it away.

“ I love you, too, Master.” This was you making the same promise to stay and the same declaration of appreciation for his willingness to stay with you. You took this moment of softness to kiss his lips. It was just a peak, but he deepened it by folding your face in his hands, caressing your cheekbones. The two of you broke apart, breathless, and held each other until you fell asleep, there on the TARDIS console room sofa, blissfully unprepared for what your future would throw at you.

#sacha dhawan #the master imagine #doctor who x reader #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master #personal post #request #fanfiction #the master x reader #doctor who imagine

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gusu-emilu · 3 years

Text

Cantatio: Chapter Six

Ship: Lan Zhan / Wei Ying (POV Lan Zhan)

Summary: Lan Zhan fumbles through an attempt to explain himself to Wen Qing. Later, Wei Ying does something shocking during detention in the library.

Cloud Recesses Academy AU, Rated T - read on AO3

< Ch. 5 | Ch. 7 > | chapter list

“You will not speak a word to anyone about what you saw last night,” Wen Qing said.

Lan Wangji nodded compliantly. He had to tilt his head down to make eye contact with her, but the advantage of height did not offer much assurance against her sharp tongue.

Wen Qing pursed her lips and drew in a slow breath. A question hovered in the air between them like an arrow she was about to shoot into Lan Wangji’s skull. He waited for it with a twinge of unease, ready to recoil internally.

“Why were you in my room?” she demanded.

“I do not know.”

“Well, there must have been some reason you walked in.”

“I did not walk in.”

Wen Qing cocked an eyebrow and said with biting sarcasm, “So I suppose you teleported, then?”

Lan Wangji scanned the area around them. The other disciples paced leisurely through the clearing. A few stood in pods underneath the terraced walkway that led to the central part of the Cloud Recesses. Some were telling stories with extravagant hand gestures, others were speaking quietly with dignified nods. Snippets of their dialogue such as ‘moustache’ and ‘beetle monster’ and ‘scared of Madam Yu’ reached Lan Wangji’s ears. As he had hoped, everyone was immersed in their own business.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

Lan Wangji inclined his head.

“You’re telling me you teleported into my room.”

“Mn.”

“I’m surprised, Second Young Master Lan. You don’t strike me as the type to crack jokes—especially not ill-placed ones. At least you aren’t as tactless as Wei Wuxian.”

Irritation filled Lan Wangji at the reminder of his heart plummeting in fright at the trick Wei Wuxian played. “I am truthful.”

Wen Qing shook her head in defeat. “I can’t have a reasonable conversation with anyone around here,” she said, more so to herself than to Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji was caught off guard by the sadness hidden in her voice. He searched her face for some explanation, but soon arrived at one himself.

Even if Wen Qing’s place in the Wen Clan put her at odds with the rest of the cultivation world, she was still just a girl. Although she had a close bond with her brother, she didn’t seem to get along with Wen Chao—nor did Lan Wangji imagine she wanted to—and even her roommates regarded her with caution. If she were shrewd, as Lan Wangji perceived that she was, then she would not be quick to trust anyone here.

She was alone.

Deep within himself, Lan Wangji recognized a parallel between them. Both relied on their brothers for most of their social interaction. Both had frigid personalities that would already keep their peers at a distance, and deepening that gap were the reputations that preceded them: Wen Qing as an extension of all that was ruthless and unjust, and Lan Wangji as an aloof, stone-faced image of perfection. Lan Wangji did not believe either of these perceptions were true.

“I will converse with you.”

Wen Qing shot a bewildered look at Lan Wangji, like he was an unappealing suitor who had just proposed to her. Or perhaps she thought it was another vexatious joke. Lan Wangji was not very good at telling the difference.

She scoffed. “What is there to say?”

“I am sorry for intruding in your room. I was teleported there by a closet.”

“By a what?”

Lan Wangji blinked at her. He did not think he would get this far in the conversation.

“If you don’t explain to me, I’m going to assume you’re mocking me, and walk away.”

“In my dormitory, I heard your scream from within my closet. After I opened it, I was in your bedchambers.”

Wen Qing placed two fingers on her temple and squinted. “You expect me to believe this?”

His only answer was to watch her expectantly.

The levers cranked in her mind as she weighed how to respond. “Okay then. I’ll come to your room tonight and see for myself.”

A jolt of panic shook Lan Wangji.

Just as boys were not permitted to enter girls’ rooms at night, neither was the reverse acceptable. Lan Wangji was not about to break this rule two days in a row.

“It is prohibited.”

“Then I don’t believe you, and I don’t accept your apology.”

Lan Wangji frowned. It was understandable if Wen Qing did not believe this farcical story—he barely believed it himself—but he could already feel the gaping hole in his honor if she did not forgive his intrusion.

“The closet is locked. You cannot enter.”

“Oh, isn’t that convenient.”

Lan Wangji clicked his teeth together. He was becoming frustrated.

“I will research this topic and prove my honesty.”

“How? No one’s ever heard of a teleportation closet. And why would it connect to my room, of all places?”

As far as Lan Wangji knew, she was right. He stared at the ground in embarrassment, as if the tiny pebbles scattered through the grass had any chance of holding an answer.

He expected Wen Qing to walk away, but she stood there silently analyzing him.

“You know, if you stretch your imagination, the concept is kind of similar to a qiankun pouch,” Wen Qing said. Her tone was much gentler than before.

Again, she was right. A qiankun pouch was only slightly larger than a teacup, but it was charmed to hold an item of almost any size. It was possible that a closet portal could operate under similar principles.

Lan Wangji looked up and met Wen Qing’s measured, moonlike eyes.

“That’s where we’ll start, then,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the library after class. Oh, and by the way. I want to thank you again for fighting that beetle monster. And thanks for sticking up for my brother. He likes you.”

Without giving Lan Wangji a chance to answer, she whirled around and speeded away, her steps quick, graceful, and determined. It had only been there for a second, but Lan Wangji thought he had seen a soft smile on her face before she hid it from his view. She glided down the covered walkway to where Wen Ning waited for her.

Did that go well? Lan Wangji thought so, but he wasn’t completely sure.

“Second Young Master Lan,” said a frigid voice.

Lan Wangji turned. Song Lan stood a few paces away from him.

“Daozhang,” he said with a bow.

“The pixiu which you and Young Master Jin animated was one of the stronger samples. Good job.”

“Thank you, Daozhang.”

Despite the words of praise he had shared, Song Lan wore a frown on his chiseled yet delicate face. His grey eyes flicked around imperceptibly, studying Lan Wangji with a snowy calmness as if waiting for something.

Perhaps he sensed that Lan Wangji had a question.

“Daozhang, can a guardian spirit be animated without draining one’s energy?”

He paused in thought. “It is not unheard of, but it is neither common nor simple. It would only be successful on the most insignificant spirits.”

“How is it performed?”

Song Lan’s eyes shimmered. “It is not to be practiced.”

The itch of curiosity at the back of Lan Wangji’s throat morphed into a thirst for retribution. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to report Wei Wuxian by name.

“A disciple has.”

“Are you sure?”

Lan Wangji thinned his lips and looked down at the sunbathed grass.

He was not sure. He had an idea. But more than anything, he was just painfully curious.

“It is extremely unlikely,” Song Lan said. “I am sorry that I did not witness what transpired. I had been speaking to Young Master Jin Guangyao. Please excuse your professor’s inattentiveness.”

Lan Wangji remembered the moments during the lesson that Song Lan had stared at Jin Guangyao. Most high-ranking cultivators would have ignored a servant like Jin Guangyao. What had caught his interest?

“Leave this matter at rest for now.”

Lan Wangji bowed and departed from Song Lan’s class with many more questions than he had when he first arrived.

At least the library might help him answer some of them. Wen Qing would be there to help.

Unfortunately, they would not be the only ones in the library. Wei Wuxian would also be there for detention. And Lan Wangji had to supervise him.

Would he ever be able to escape from Wei Wuxian?

* * *

The rest of the day’s classes passed without nearly as much commotion as Ancient Texts or Beings & Creatures. Wen Chao had surpassed Wei Wuxian as the biggest troublemaker of the afternoon, but his self-entitled yapping and arrogant criticizing—albeit annoying—was ultimately harmless. He had only risen to the rank of teacher’s pest because Wei Wuxian had relinquished the title.

Wei Wuxian must have sensed that Lan Wangji was upset with him for the pixiu prank. He seemed to bite his tongue more often, canning his prior shamelessness and disruptiveness. As a result, Jiang Cheng’s face loosened so much that he looked a year younger, a remarkable feat for someone who was still a teenager.

In Madam Yu’s Alchemy & Medicine class, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were assigned to the same table. Their seats directly faced each other. Lan Wangji did not make eye contact once.

The class followed Madam Yu’s shrill orders to concoct a remedy for insomnia from ginseng and dragon-eye lychee. When Wei Wuxian turned to Jiang Cheng to ask for a handful of jujube seeds—"Use the ones in your kit, dumbass! These are mine!”—“They were in my kit this morning! I don’t know where they went!”—Madam Yu appeared behind Wei Wuxian to slap him in the back of the head. Spidery sparks escaped from her ring Zidian and made the boy’s hair stand on end with purple static. She announced that his grade would be lowered for missing ingredients.

For the entire class, Wei Wuxian stole concerned, furtive glances at the jade-like young man across from him.

Not that any of those things mattered to Lan Wangji.

The best class had been Swordsmanship & Weaponry with Jiang Fengmian and his graduate assistant Nie Mingjue. The two instructors guided the disciples in complementary fighting styles: one swift and calculated, one forceful and explosive.

Lan Wangji was grateful that they practiced a round of actual sparring instead of being limited to solitary drills. A spirited battle with Jiang Cheng allowed Lan Wangji to release some of the anger bottled inside him. Jiang Cheng let out some demon of his own.

At the end of their match, the two nodded to each other with hesitant respect. Not the respect of acquaintances or rivals, but the respect of two troubled souls who shared similar sources of distress, and who mutually decided to pretend that they didn’t recognize this in each other.

Having channeled his frustration into a structured activity, Lan Wangji felt clean and refreshed, like the crystal-clear water of the creek that babbled along the perimeter of the Cloud Recesses.

Now it was off to the library for detention.

When Lan Wangji arrived in the circular library chamber, there was no one there. He guessed that Wei Wuxian was romping around with his friends, delaying his punishment, and would not show up for a while. Unprofessional.

Then Lan Wangji would enjoy the quiet while it lasted.

In the center of the library was a semicircular platform. Atop the platform was a low, long desk, and at its back were towering tan panels bordered with rich wood and pressed against cubby shelves of books and scrolls. The outline of the room contained smaller desks at evenly spaced intervals, each equipped with calligraphy pens, an ink well, a waxy candle, and a bronze incense burner.

More shelves lined the walls and were filled with countless tomes, some with bold titles that proclaimed their subject matter across the room, some with their colors fading from their bindings. In bright sections underneath the tall windows, the dark brown floor reflected fuzzy rectangles of blue light.

The air was heavy and a bit dusty. When Lan Wangji breathed in the thick scent, he could sense the ancient wisdom of the room’s contents that seeped into its cozy atmosphere.

Libraries never failed to put Lan Wangji at ease.

It was a pity that he would soon be disrupted.

He sifted through a row of books until he found two copies of the Gusu Lan Clan rules. Upon pulling them out, a pleasant musty smell danced across his nose. He placed one book on a desk on the far end of the room, another on the larger desk on the central platform, then sat down behind the latter. He straightened a sheet of parchment on the table, dipped a brush in the viscous black ink, and began copying the first page of the Gusu Lan Clan rules.

Take the straight path. Uphold the value of justice. Preserve your honor.

Intentionally or not, Lan Wangji had broken his code of honor by entering Wen Qing’s room and withholding information of the closet portal from his superiors. If no one would hold him accountable, he would do so himself.

It was a mere coincidence that this was the same punishment he had assigned to Wei Wuxian.

Footsteps scuffed at his right. “Erm. Hi, Lan Zhan.”

Wei Wuxian stood in the doorway of the library, his hand resting on the wall to his left. Like a gloomy figure against a miniature sky, he cast a shadow into the patch of hazy blue reflection on the dark floor.

Without looking up, Lan Wangji gestured impassively toward the desk that held the second copy of the Gusu Lan Clan rules, then returned to his writing.

Wei Wuxian walked over and kneeled behind the desk. His posture was stiff and meek.

"You know, I had only been planning to play a trick on Nie Huaisang. I hadn’t expected you to run over like that.”

The candle upon Lan Wangji’s table flickered with a soft crackle.

“You were worried about me…I should have thanked you, not scared you. I really appreciate that you came over. I seriously do.”

Lan Wangji’s lips twitched, but his brush strokes did not waver.

“I acted without thinking. I’m sorry.”

Something began to melt inside Lan Wangji like the wax of the candle.

How could he refuse a sincere apology?

“…Second Young Master Lan?”

He looked up.

“Wei Ying.”

A smile crept across Wei Wuxian’s face. The sound of his birth name immediately closed the distance between them, a tie that threaded the string of unspoken forgiveness.

Lan Wangji was shocked by how quickly it happened.

Something inside him had whispered, Do not call me Second Young Master Lan. You put us on a birth name basis. I like it and you cannot retract it.

Of course, those words came nowhere close to his lips.

Wei Wuxian leaned forward. “You have something to say, Lan Zhan?”

“Speaking is prohibited in the Cloud Recesses library. Begin copying.”

Wei Wuxian tossed his hands in the air, then let them thump down onto his thighs in exasperation. “Aiya, Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji raised his eyebrows.

“Fine, fine, I’ll get started.”

Several minutes passed. The silence was only interrupted by the swishing of horsehair brushes on smooth paper, the whistling of birds, and the distant calls of youthful voices.

Despite having ordered Wei Wuxian not to speak, Lan Wangji still waited for him to divulge how he had animated the pixiu in Song Lan’s class, like he promised he would share during detention. What if he really did use some forbidden technique?

But instead, Wei Wuxian said, “Lan Zhan, what are you writing?”

Lan Wangji’s only reply was to quicken the pace of his hand.

Wei Wuxian appeared at his side and peered over his shoulder. He held a single sheet of paper in front of his chest as if it were a flower he had picked. The side of the paper with writing was hidden from Lan Wangji.

“Are you…are you doing my punishment for me? Do you really love me that much?”

Lan Wangji clenched his jaw in alarm. He lifted his brush from the page to stop himself from smudging the character he was in the middle of writing.

“Lan Zhan, why are you copying the rules too?”

He turned to stare into Wei Wuxian’s dark silvery eyes, only to dart his gaze away after less than a second.

“It does not concern you. Sit down.”

“Wait, I have something to give you first!” He waved the parchment, still concealing the side with writing.

Wei Wuxian wanted him to see the single page he had copied? First of all, he should have completed five pages by now. Second of all, what was the reason for showing it off?

The sheet of porcelain-white paper floated onto Lan Wangji’s desk. It did not contain an array of messily written characters like he had expected.

It was a portrait.

Of himself.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by liking, reblogging, and visiting me on AO3! New chapters posted every Monday on AO3 and Tuesday on Tumblr.

Ch. 7 > | chapter list

#mdzs fanfiction #the untamed fanfiction #wangxian fanfiction #mdzs fanfic #the untamed fanfic #wangxian fanfic #mdzs #the untamed #cql #cantatio #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan wangji #lan zhan #wen qing #song lan #song zichen #emilu talks

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cosmic-hearts · 4 years

Text

castles in the air | lee donghyuck | two

lee donghyuck x female reader

genre; enemies-to-lovers, friendship, romance, fluff, angst

warnings; mentions of alcohol and drinking in this chapter!

foreword; in which you might be a real-life princess with a prince promised to you right from the start, but you won’t be getting your happy ever after.

<< previous chapter | next chapter >>

You stand before your wardrobe, faced with yet another clothing dilemma. You love fashion and dressing up, you really do, but sometimes it can be a real pain in the ass.

If this were another soirée or evening function, you’d know exactly what to wear—that gorgeous Isabella Militao dress you’d been saving for a spectacular debut. That would be sure to make jaws drop; it was a gift fashioned by the loving hand of Aphrodite herself.

But you’re going to a high school party, and you don’t think girls turned up in the latest garb fresh off the runways of New York Fashion Week.

You think back to when Donghyuck asked you to go to the party with him (“because we actually need to seem like we’re dating”), and you asked him what to wear. He’d scoffed and you nearly socked him in the face.

“How would I know? Your parents literally own Seoul’s biggest fashion brand. And you’ll look good in whatever.”

If that had been a genuine compliment, you would have been flattered. But it was the tone in which he’d said it, that matter-of-fact, detached voice devoid of any tinge of personal belief or emotion that made it clear he was merely stating a truism, an indisputable fact. He might as well have said that the sky was blue.

You eventually decide on a red sleeveless silk floral dress that stops slightly above mid-thigh. It’s not exactly the most modest article of clothing you own, but it’ll have to do.

When you get in Donghyuck’s car, he doesn’t even glance over to see what you’re wearing, a stark reminder that this clearly isn’t a real date. You on the other hand, can’t help but sneak peeks at his outfit (it’s just the fashionista in you, you swear): a denim jacket thrown over a casual white button-up shirt and dark jeans. A simple look, but surprisingly he makes it work.

You quickly look away before he catches you staring.

He drives in complete silence and before long you reach your destination. Upon entering the house, Donghyuck immediately leaves your side to reunite with five other boys; you have to stand alone for a hot minute and bear witness to the fist bumps, back slaps and bro hugs going all around.

“Who’s this?” One of the boys asks, his blue hair gleaming underneath the faux strobe lights.

You open your mouth to reply, but Donghyuck beats you to it. “My girlfriend. Everyone, this is Y/N.” He sounds like he’s gritting his teeth while introducing you as his girlfriend, which makes you want to laugh; after all, he’s brought this upon himself.

“Hi,” you say, smiling at the boys, “it’s nice to meet you guys.”

“Hi, I’m Jaemin,” the blue-haired boy steps forward and says, flashing you a wide grin that sparks a curious flutter in your chest.

“Did you break up with Sohui?” A brooding, dark-haired boy asks Donghyuck. It’s clear to see that he has none of that chipper energy Jaemin possesses.

Donghyuck’s gaze becomes shifty and he clears his throat awkwardly before replying, “Yeah.”

What a lie.

Before you can think too much about it, Jaemin whisks you all away for a game of spin the bottle. The consequence? 7 minutes in heaven.

You’d heard of the game before but you didn’t think people actually played it at parties; it all seemed so terribly cliche. Looks like you were dead wrong, because once the bottle lands Jaemin and then you everyone’s in an uproar and you’re panicking because you really don’t want to lose your first kiss to a stranger, however hot he may be. Heck, you’d rather do it with Donghyuck; at least he’s a familiar enemy.

Jaemin smirks at you and grabs your wrist, gesturing towards a nearby closet (god, the sheer disgrace you feel, what would your parents say?) and your heart starts thumping in your ribcage, the butterflies from earlier entirely gone. You contemplate breaking out into a sprint for the bathroom or just running out to the garage and driving Donghyuck’s car away into the night. You look over at Donghyuck, hoping that he can read your mind and get you out of this situation (you know he hates you but surely he doesn’t hate you that much), but he’s staring at you with a glazed expression on his face and you can’t believe he’s about to offer you up like a lamb to the slaughter, that asshole—

“I’ll do it instead,” Donghyuck suddenly stands and grabs your free hand, tugging you away from Jaemin. Without waiting for his response he drags you behind him to the closet, pulls you in and shuts the door with a loud slam.

You release the breath you’d unconsciously been holding and start to sink down onto the cushions littered about in the dark, dank and cramped space, but then you stop short Donghyuck places a hand on your arm. He shrugs off his jacket and shoves it into your hands, whispering, “Your dress.”

When you two are finally seated, his jacket draped over your lap, you ask in a slight whisper, “What do we do now?”

At this, Donghyuck breaks out into a sardonic smile, leaning in close to whisper in your ear, “We’re not going to do anything. Don’t forget that I have a girlfriend, and if I kiss you, you might just fall in love with me. Can’t risk that now, can we?”

You try to ignore the way his breath tickles your ear and the fact that it’s not an entirely uncomfortable sensation. You hate the way Donghyuck plays with you like this, as though he’s constantly reminding you that he will never be yours, arranged marriage or not.

You press yourself into your corner of the closet to get as far away as possible from him, before taking out your phone and instinctively scrolling through Twitter, your lifeline—it’s almost like a coping mechanism, the way you try to get lost in your timeline filled with pictures of the Albertine bookstore and 90’s Chanel gowns to try and forget the fact that you’re currently stuck in a musty closet with your childhood enemy. Donghyuck does the same; he pulls out his phone and starts typing rapidly. You figure he’s texting Sohui to complain.

Before long the 7 minutes are up and the boys are pounding on the closet door. You sigh; they sound like ravenous zombies lying in wait to chew you out when you emerge. You’re about to push the door open when Donghyuck puts a hand on your arm; you turn to face him with the most annoyed expression can muster. What now?

Without warning, he reaches behind you and pulls out the scrunchie that’s holding your hair in a high ponytail. You nearly yelp at him in surprise as your hair spills past your shoulders, utterly dishevelled (also, that’s a limited edition Chanel scrunchie right there) but he must have seen it coming because he places his hand over your mouth, quick as a flash. Leaning in close, he whispers in your ear, “We have to look like we just made out, idiot.”

You flash him an angry glare which soon turns into a look of sheer embarrassment as he unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt, a sliver of light through the crack in the closet falling on his now exposed collarbone. You look away hastily, thankful that the darkness obscures the blush creeping up your cheekbones.

He’s about to push open the door when he suddenly hisses, “Shit, I almost forgot the most important thing. I need to get some of your lip gloss off.”

Against your better judgement, you acquiesce. Anything to get out of this literal hellhole.

Closing your eyes, you feel a warm palm on the back of your head and you brace yourself. You feel his thumb running across your bottom lip in one swift but gentle motion, and when you open your eyes he’s swiping it across his own.

The blush in your cheeks intensifies and you look away quickly.

Finally, Donghyuck pushes open the door and a flood of electric purple light streams in. The boys whoop and cheer, and Jaemin invites you to sit next to him. You happily do so, desiring to be in the proximity of anyone other than Donghyuck—you might just combust with embarrassment if you sat next to him after that horrendous episode.

“Are you good at drinking, Y/N?” Jaemin asks, his smile as striking as his cobalt blue hair. He really is a heartthrob.

“Somewhat,” you say, being deliberately evasive; you aren’t about to let him know that your tolerance was limited to dainty sips of Sauvignon Blanc or Chardonnay typically served at the high-end functions you went to.

“Great! Let’s play a drinking game then,” he says, winking, and the butterflies in your stomach make it hard for you to resist.

Over the course of the next hour, you find yourself in an endless cycle of drinking games—you weren’t bad at those games, and it wasn’t very often that you had to drink, but when you did, the single shot of soju burned your throat on the way down and seemed to erode your consciousness along the way. You can feel your cheeks getting hotter and hotter, and the laughing faces of the boys seem to pass by in a hazy blur.

“Y/N,” a low voice chimes in your ear; it’s a stern, familiar voice. You frown instinctively; you have a pretty good idea of who it is, even if you can’t see him. “Stop it. You don’t have to keep drinking if you can’t handle it.”

You wave him off; there’s no way you’re drunk. “Who… Who said I can’t handle it? I’m no… lightweight.”

“Yeah… She seems to be managing fine, right Y/N?” Another voice, this one slurred and a little too mirthful to be sober. A flash of blue hair. It’s the cute boy, you think to yourself and smile.

“Enough,” the stern voice cuts in again, right when you are about to reach up and touch the boy’s hair, to see if it feels like cotton candy as much as it looks.

You feel an arm snaking round your waist, forcing you to stand up. Your head rests on something firm and solid; it’s almost comfortable, but you want to keep drinking. You have to prove that you can hold your liquor; you are Y/N, for goodness’ sake, and you can do anything you set your mind to.

But before you can open your mouth to protest, the world begins to spin and darkness swallows you whole; you have no choice but to fall into it without resistance.

—

This isn’t what Donghyuck envisioned when you decided to take you to the party.

He didn’t expect to have to get stuck in a closet with you for a whole 7 minutes. He didn’t expect you to get dead drunk while slobbering all over Jaemin. And he certainly didn’t expect to be hauling you on his back to the front step of your house and having to present your dismally inebriated form to your mother.

“I’m so sorry,” Donghyuck says, hoping he comes across as apologetic enough, “I should’ve taken better care of her.”

To his utter astonishment, your mother waves off his apology with a flick of her hand. “Don’t worry about it! I expected this to happen; Y/N has never been to a party without us before. I’m glad you were with her; god knows what would have happened to her if you weren’t there!”

Donghyuck resists the urge to chortle. What are you, a child?

“Could you take her up to her room please? I’ll get the housekeeper to run her a bath.”

“Sure,” he says, grimacing inwardly at the thought of having to lug your deadweight up four flights of stairs; thank goodness there’s an elevator.

He tries his best not to dump you unceremoniously onto your bed, taking care to remove your strappy sandals. When the job is done, he’s about to leave when something on your desk catches his eye. He walks over and picks it up, turning on your desk lamp for better lighting.

In his hands lies a framed photo of the two of you when you first met as kids—you in a bright pink dress adorned with a monstrosity of ribbons, him in a suit. You’re both sitting on a park bench holding hands; he’s staring at the camera with a stony expression, while your smile looks more like a grimace.

The memory of that day rushes to greet him, clear as day—it was the first time he saw you, and it was on the same day that it was announced that you were going to be his future bride. It was the day he started his campaign of relentless hate towards you, the day he decided that you were to be his lifelong enemy.

Donghyuck sets the picture down on your desk with more force than intended. Why would you still keep it? Did you really want a constant reminder of your betrothal to him? Did you really want a constant reminder of him?

His whirlwind of thoughts is interrupted by a weak voice. “Donghyuck?”

He walks over to your bed where you lie intoxicated, cheeks flushed and eyes half-lidded, tangled locks of hair strewn across your pillow.

“You’re awake,” he says, voice flat.

“I… said… I wasn’t drunk… idiot…”

Nope. Still wasted.

“Just go to sleep. Your bath will be ready soon,” he’s about to leave when you lift your hand to latch weakly onto his wrist.

“Wait,” you mumble, “I… have to ask you… something.”

“What is it?”

At this, your lips turn into a pout. “I know… you’re… a liar.”

“What?”

“You…,” you gesticulate aimlessly at him—after all, finding words is such a chore when you’re hardly sober— “when we were young… you said that… you hated me because I was wearing… pink.”

Donghyuck’s breath hitches in his throat; he can’t believe you can remember that.

“Yes; what about it?”

“You’re lying. That’s… a stupid reason… for hating someone. So tell me… why exactly… do you hate me so much?”

Donghyuck feels his heartbeat pick up but he keeps his lips pursed.

“I never told you this… but… it hurts. It hurts how… you don’t even want to be friends with me…” you ramble on, lips forming a pout while your eyelids get heavier and heavier. “Why don’t you like me…” Your eyelids flutter shut and your breathing evens, and Donghyuck releases the breath he’d been holding.

Donghyuck feels the sour pang of guilt creep up on him. Granted, you’d never done anything to warrant his hate for you; he simply detests your very existence, which isn’t something you can help. It never once occurred to him that you’d be hurt by him—he didn't think he mattered to you at all. He can’t believe you still remember what he’d said to you all those years ago. Sighing, he rakes a hand through his hair; perhaps some soul-searching is in order.

He pauses for a moment, watching the way your eyelashes graze your cheekbones ever so slightly. Your cheeks and lips are flushed cherry pink from all that drinking, and a stray lock of hair spills across your face. He reaches out to draw it away from your face, marvelling at how normal you look for once; your sleeping face is so tranquil, like a child’s. No one would ever be able to guess at how you are nothing less than a perfect, infallible human being. It’s easy for him to forget how you’re the same age as him; you just seem to possess a maturity way beyond your youth that Donghyuck really can’t wrap his head around.

He gently drapes the duvet over you, and he’s about to leave when he sees that his denim jacket is still wrapped snugly around your body, though it’s a couple sizes too large for your slight frame.

He can let you have it for a little while.

—

You proudly hand your mother your school journal, decorated with pink glitter and purple felt butterflies you painstakingly cut out yourself. On the first page, the words “My Dream Job” are neatly inscribed in cursive lettering, with hearts over the i’s.

“Mrs Lee asked us to write down our dream job today,” you gush, pigtails bouncing with excitement. “Look what I wrote!”

Your mother smiles as her eyes skim over the words ‘fashion designer’. You gabble on.

“I told the class I wanted to take over your company when I grow up and become a fashion designer just like you!”

“Very good, Y/N. I’m so proud of you. I have no doubt that will happen,” she says, patting the top of your head.

“Oh, I also asked Donghyuck what he wanted to be. He said he wants to be a singer when he grows up.”

Your mother’s hand falls from your head and she frowns. “Does he?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that cool? I told him that was really cool.”

Her expression turns austere. “There’s no future in that, Y/N. You should tell him to be like you and take over his family’s company. That way he’ll be successful.”

“But he’s good at singing,” you protest, eyes shining with the memory of his voice, “and he looks so happy when he’s singing. If he’s happy, won’t he be successful too?”

—

“Do you still sing?”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow at you as he chugs his iced coffee. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s called making conversation. It might not be in our contract, but did you intend to sit in silence until the sun sets and we go home?”

It’s your turn to pick a date, so you’ve dragged Donghyuck to a music cafe with a stage by the entrance where a teenage boy sings soulful R&B tunes. You weren’t being entirely truthful when you told him you were just making conversation; you did want to know if he still sang. To see if he was prepared for what you were about to throw him into.

“Sometimes,” he says, “maybe one day I’ll serenade you. With a song about how annoying you are.”

You resist the urge to toss your steaming mug of chamomile tea in his face. These days, after your horribly embarrassing encounter at the party (Donghyuck insists that you threw up in his car, but you don’t remember that at all), his attitude toward you seems to have shifted. Sure, he’s still mean, but not resentful. He doesn’t seem to hate you that much anymore; when he says spiteful things you can sense its teasing undertones.

You wonder what sparked this change. Shouldn’t he detest you even more? You literally threw up in his car—or so he claims. Or maybe he’s finally come to his senses and recognizes just how lovable you are.

You load up your smile like a gun.

“You do that,” you say, raising your hand to beckon someone over. To Donghyuck’s surprise, the manager of the cafe scoots over, and when he leans down you whisper something into his ear. The man chuckles and sends a curious glance at Donghyuck.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you say, smiling sweetly and taking a sip of your coffee.

The performer ends the song, and bows to polite claps from the audience. The manager you just spoke to goes up on stage, voice filling the room.

“Thank you Jihoon, that was lovely as usual. Next up we have Lee Donghyuck—this is his first time performing, so do give him your encouragement!”

Donghyuck literally jumps in his seat and you stifle your laugh. He sends a death glare in your direction and mouths I’m going to kill you. You clap for him in response, that sweet smile never leaving your face. You’ll get it from him later, no doubt, but this is totally worth it.

Donghyuck finally gets up and trudges over to the stage. He steps up to the mic, closes his eyes for the briefest of instants, and his lips part.

You expected, after all these years, that his voice would have hardened somehow, taken on a rougher edge, flavoured with the accents of a baritone. However, Donghyuck surprises you yet again—his voice is just as airy and angelic as it was nearly a decade ago, and every line he sings is like a stream of honey pouring forth from his lips. He breezes through countless high notes effortlessly in a way that sends chills down your spine, without so much as a twitch of neck muscle; he loads every word with so much emotion that it seems like the euphonious melody is coming to life right before your very eyes. The other patrons in the cafe are spellbound, drinks and conversation long forgotten; he’s bewitched everyone, and there’s no escaping.

In short, Lee Donghyuck is still a marvellous singer. And possibly a siren.

When he’s done, it is silent for a moment, the aftereffects of his spell still lingering. And then a single clap from the manager breaks the reverie and soon everyone is applauding in awe and surprise. There are even a few cheers.

You watch as he smiles and bows bashfully before walking down the stage, leaving his five minutes of fame behind. His cheeks glow under the warm light of the cafe; he looks absolutely ethereal.

“What do you think?” He asks as he slides into his seat. You can almost feel the passion flowing from him in waves.

You stare at him, starstruck. How could you possibly tell him that you never want him to stop singing, that you actually would like to be serenaded by him, that you want to wake up and fall asleep to the sound of his voice every single day?

So you settle for, “N-Not bad.” Yes, you stuttered. You hope your cheeks won’t betray you.

Donghyuck smirks. “Really? Your face tells me something else.”

Instinctively, you place a hand on your cheek—it’s burning. You take a large gulp of coffee to hide the flames in your cheeks; Donghyuck’s smirk only grows wider.

Avoiding his gaze, you ask, “Anyway, what song was that? I’ve never heard it before.”

He rubs the back of his neck with his palm. “Actually, I wrote it.”

“You what?”

“I wrote it. Want me to announce it to everyone?”

You can’t believe it. Not only does this boy before you have the voice of an angel, he’s a lyrical genius too? The world is simply not fair.

“Wow.” You lean back in your chair, all attempts at unfazed composure gone. “That’s actually crazy. You’re actually crazy.”

You look back at Donghyuck, expecting him to look smug, but instead his lips are pursed and his gaze is downcast.

“What’s wrong? Upset that your identity as a secret genius has been exposed?”

“No, it’s just… I wrote this song for Sohui. I thought she would love it, especially since she’s always been super supportive about my singing and songwriting. But… she doesn’t like it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. She said I should have bigger dreams now. Apparently, I can’t get anywhere with this.”

You keep silent, wondering how she could possibly say that to him. Heck, if a boy wrote you a song and serenaded you with it you’d probably get down on one knee and profess your undying love to him.

“Maybe… maybe she’s right. My parents say that all the time too. I shouldn’t be singing anymore. It’s time to grow up. You can’t make money out of dreams.”

He looks so crestfallen, the incandescent shine that had previously graced him completely vanished. That shine of passion was what set him ablaze and made him look so euphoric, and now it’s gone, like a candle snuffed out by the darkness.

You want to get it back for him. You want to see that look of pure bliss spread across his face. You want to see him shining bright and luminous again.

“So, what? You’re just going to stop singing then?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest, “I thought you were more determined than that. Once you’d set your mind on something, you wouldn’t let it go. That’s how you nursed that burning hatred you had for me, right?”

He has the good grace to blush.

You lean across the table and look him straight in the eye. “And I thought you could care less what others thought; that’s why we’re doing all this. That’s why we’re going against our parents’ will and fighting this bloody engagement. The Lee Donghyuck I know won’t go down without a fight, especially if it’s something he clearly loves so much.”

One final push. “But I could be wrong. I mean, I don’t really know you.”

Donghyuck’s head snaps upward and he stares right at you; you can see the fire in his eyes. Whether it's rage or passion, it doesn’t matter. You managed to rile him up. That was all you wanted. That’s the only way to keep his flame burning.

—

The drive home is filled with a pregnant silence. You wonder if you took it too far; after all, you and Donghyuck aren’t exactly the chummiest of friends. Maybe you overstepped the boundary a little.

But all you know is that you won’t stand by and let him give up such a blessing, something that clearly gives him so much joy. You won’t let him become an empty shell.

You of all people know how that feels.

When you reach home, you unbuckle your seatbelt and say goodbye. “Thanks for today, Donghyuck. You can choose the next date.”

You’re about to reach for the door and get out, but Donghyuck stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Y/N,” he says, and you look at him, acutely aware of the sensation of his fingers clasped around your wrist. His gaze burns into yours in a way that makes your heart jolt and your brain question everything you ever thought you’d felt about him.

You wonder whether, in an alternate universe, things could have been different between you two.

“Thank you,” he finally says, gaze softening, the faintest hint of a smile etched on his lips.

Perhaps you melted a little.

#lee donghyuck #lee donghyuck imagines #lee donghyuck scenarios #lee donghyuck fluff #lee donghyuck angst #nct dream #nct dream fanfiction #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #haechan scenarios #nct haechan #haechan nct #haechan fluff #haechan fanfic #haechan fanfiction #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #nct imagines

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secondhand-trash · 5 years

Text

Crystal Clear

A/N: All these gloomy looking boys with aesthetically pleasing character design is making me THRIVE. (Also, I was gonna post this on Saturday because yay algorithm but then I wanted to get it out by Halloween aka the last day of @villainmonth even though au is for day 27 so here ya go)

(au masterlist)

Pairing: seer!Dabi x reader

Description: The person you worked for happen to be able to see into the future and he was convinced that you would be in love with him. You weren’t buying it though.

Warning: non-consensul touching from a third character under alcoholic influence (nothing too major but putting a heads up just in case)

Word count: 3945

Playlist:

Somebody Else//The 1975

Norman fucking Rockwell//Lana Del Ray

Drunk Text Romance//Cyberbully Mom Club

“You are going to fall in love with me.”

You looked up from your desk to meet the piercing blue eyes of the man you were working for, “Is that a question, a statement, a challenge, or a threat? Because no matter which one it is, that’s pretty much not gonna happen.”

Dabi placed his palms on your desk and leaned forward, towering you slightly with a smirk on his face. “We’ll see about that,” he said, sounding as cocky as always, “I see it very clearly in my vision and you’ve worked with me for long enough to know that my predictions are never wrong.”

You didn’t say a word as you couldn’t quite argue with that. Dabi made a name for himself for being a brilliant seer at such a young age. He was young and good-looking, mysterious with a snarky personality, the full package for media adoration. The internet’s opinion on him was polarized, a lot of people practically worship him but not without an equal amount of people who hated his guts, not that he cared at all. But no matter how people felt about him, there was no denying that he was frighteningly good at what he did, giving off extremely accurate readings to each and every single person who came to ask for a glimpse into their future.

The media had been digging into the origin of his great talent but they never found anything. Dabi hid a lot more from the light than most would expect but you distinctively remember the time he had you closed up the shop early and pulled out a bottle of vodka, pushing the glass that you didn’t even know he store in the shop in front of you despite your protest before taking a swing from the bottle directly himself. You did not know what gone over him that day but he looked almost distressed so you stayed. Half of the bottle was gone when he told you in a slurred voice how he got the ability to see into the future. He stared at you with those eyes of his that was so clear you almost mistaken them as glass and told you that the sight was given to him in a bet with a demon on the same day many, many years ago.

He did not tell you if he won the bet or not.

You, on the other hand, was just a poor college student who needed a job to afford rent. You came across the flyer that had “assistant for hire” written on it in a barely comprehensible handwriting with dark purple ink that gave off an odd glow when you looked at it under the sun. You were skeptical of it, it did not look legit at all and a chain of patterns that looked like runes were scribbled on the back of the thin paper in the same purple ink. Not to mention the salary it was offering seemed to be a bit too high for it to be real. It could very likely be a scam or some trap but you were really desperate and people do stupid things in desperate times.

Which led to the current moment, two years after you pushed all survival instincts to the back of your head walked into the shop that was hidden in a quiet corner at the back alley of a busy market, being mildly annoyed by the man you were the assistant to.

Dabi’s smirk only widened when you rolled your eyes. You were just about to make a remark about how your feelings was a matter for you to decide when the crisp chime of the small bell hanging on the door frame of the shop caught your attention. You looked towards the door to see a young man timidly entering the shop. Getting up, you greeted the customer with a small smile and started going through the details of his booking. Seeing that you had no intention to give him any attention and getting slightly bored by the business talk, Dabi uninterestedly turned around and lifted the heavy curtain to the back room where the scrying sessions usually take place.

With a hand lifting the fabric and his back facing the reception, Dabi took last quick glance at the man before disappearing into the room. He could not pin point what exactly gave him the feeling but something about that seemingly kind face gave off the aura of a bad omen, and he was never wrong about an omen.

“Can I leave work a bit earlier today?”

“What? Why?” Dabi tried to hide the shock on his face as he peaked out from the curtains to look at you. In the two years you had been working for him, you had never asked to leave early or to get an extra day off. There was this one time when he had to dragged you to the doctors himself because you were coughing like crazy but still insisted on showing up to work. It’s not like he couldn’t get any work done if you left just a few hours earlier than usual but knowing that he could hear your laugh as he passed by to make fun of unbearable customers in your ear made those few painful hours just a bit less miserable.

“I have a date,” you didn’t see the way his face dropped as you started organizing the waiting area of the shop, “remember Yamamoto, the guy who had an appointment a few days ago? He gave me his number before he left and he’s taking me to a pier tonight.”

You did not get any response. The silence was stuffing you and you looked up at your boss in concern, “You won’t mind, will you?”

“Yeah, of course,” he tried to sound as unbothered as he could, “it’s just, that man gave off the wrong vibes.”

“Everyone gives off the wrong vibes to you,” you laughed and shook your head, “if it has anything to do with your vision that I’ll fall in love with you, do I have to remind you that it’s my choice to make, not yours?”

Dabi wanted to tell you it wasn’t that, that he could feel something off about that Yamamoto. But he couldn’t say it, not when you looked so excited and giddy and it had nothing to do with him. He brought up his vision of you being in love with him to tease you, that was true but he ended up liking that idea a lot more than he thought he would and now it was all he could think of when he looked at you. Dabi trusted very little people and if it had been someone else, he would have do everything to prevent it from coming true. But you, you he could work with. Somehow he didn’t quite mind if his fun-loving assistant who always pick up after him despite complaining ended up falling in love with him. His mind was screaming at you to just open your eyes and see that it could have work. But as much as he knew how scarily accurate his visions could be, he also had the equally accurate knowledge that you did not believe in that at all. So he ignored the screaming of his heart and hummed a word of approval before turning his back to you, disappearing behind the curtains.

You did not talk to him again until you left the shop that day.

You didn’t pay much mind to Dabi’s scrawl whenever Yamamoto showed up at the shop to pick you up for a date. He had been nothing but a kind and loving person to you since your first date a couple months back, you wouldn’t say you were crazy for him but being with Yamamoto was enjoyable no less. He was an average man, nothing that special about him that could make him compare to a powerful seer but it gave you more sense of security than the idea of dating your boss. You couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t just a bit attracted to Dabi or that his smirk didn’t make your knees weak at all, but being in a relationship with him would be a whole other deal. You never know what to expect with him and as charming as it might sound, the idea of being with someone who could easily break your heart in that unpredictable way of his scared you.

Dabi was starting to think that he might have made a mistake. Things between you and that guy was going sickeningly well. So well, that it had him doubting his ability as a seer for the first time since the very devil who gave him all those scars and the power to see into the future in the first place laughed at his face many years ago. He had never seen anything clearer than the sight of you linking your arm in his, looking at him with so much adoration in your eyes but right now those eyes were twinkling at the sight of someone else. It made him feel pathetic at how he wanted him to be the one those eyes linger on instead.

Dabi knew the look of someone who cried themselves to sleep way too well for him to not pick up on your swollen eyes and the blood vessels that’s covering every part of them when you came into work that day. He was going to find and end the person who did whatever they did to make you cry right then and there if you wasn’t there to stop him.

“It’s fine, I’m the one who broke up with him.”

He couldn’t deny that he had been secretly hoping for this to happen for the past few months but seeing your blank expression made his heart ached no less. He was confused, you still looked so smitten with your so-called boyfriend the day before when he waited for you outside the shop, what has happened that night for you to break things off with him?

Your ego was already severely bruised and telling him what happened wouldn’t make it hurt any less. Admitting that Dabi was right and you were wrong would not help your pride at all.

You knew something was off the moment Yamamoto’s voice got just a bit louder than usual after the third cup of wine hit his throat. You let it slide when he got a bit too handsy for your comfort, convincing yourself that it was the alcohol acting up. But you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t hear him vile words left his mouth as he had a hand still resting on your thigh like it was nothing.

“I have no idea how you put up working with that thing. Just seeing that monster’s face make me sick.”

“That person you called a ‘thing’ is my friend.” you tried to keep your composure but nothing could mask that churning in your stomach as the man sitting next to you laughed.

“Oh please, we both know that you only pretend to be his friend because that job pays well.”

He insulted your honor and values, but nothing could compare to the fury you felt at the way he talked about your friend like he was some dirt on the ground that he could step over. You didn’t look back as he yelled after you, storming out of the restaurant right after slapping that asshole across the face.

Dabi’s voice brought you back to reality from your reminiscence of that fail of a break up, “Call the people who are coming over today and tell them that I’m not feeling well.”

“What?” you whispered in disbelief, “We can’t just do that!”

Dabi snorted and forced the phone into your hand, “Of course we can. They’re the ones who needed me, not the other way round.”

“But-”

“Just do as I say,” he said impatiently but there was nothing but concern behind those glass-like eyes that were staring right through you, “what kind of boss would I be if I let you work when you look like this? People are gonna think that I mistreated you for fuck’s sake, we’re going for a drink.”

He sighed in relieve when he saw the faint smile on your face as you obliged his command.

Throughout the rest of the day, Dabi made it his mission that he would get your mind off that prick and he was having a hard time holding back a grin as your laughs echoed in the empty street. You hadn’t have so much fun in a very long time and it was definitely not something you expected to happen right after an ugly break up. It was only the two of you in the empty neighbourhood, you rolled your eyes when Dabi insisted that he would walk you back to your flat, completely oblivious to the fact that it was nothing but an excuse for him to spend more time with you. Only the moon watched on as the seer who knew everything realized he did the one thing he never foresee to ever happen. He fell head first in love with you before you even noticed that he was no longer joking when he brought up the possibility of you feeling the same. The self-doubt did not help when you brushed off each of his attempts at convincing you that what he saw would eventually come true with a laugh, that beautiful sound made his heart flutter and wrench all at the same time.

You stopped in front of a building and turned to face him with a bright smile that contrasted so drastically to the disheveled expression you had this morning. Dabi thought that perhaps, he was allowed to be proud of himself for once and took credit for the change.

“Thanks for today.” you said with your hand on his forearm and the contact was driving him insane. He had to use all of his self-control just to stop the urge to pull you towards him by the arm and close that painful distance between your bodies.

And that’s when he heard that voice screaming at that back of his head again. Those three words echoing through his brain as he greedily basked in the moment when your smile was his alone to see.

I love you.

I love you I love you-

“I love you.”

His heart stayed still as the screaming in his head escaped through his lips and it sank to the bottom of his stomach as your hand that was previously on his arm slowly retreated back. Your eyes were wide and your mouth parted slightly in shock, each part of his mind begging for you to say something.

Your voice broke as you tried to force out a laugh, “No you don’t-”

“Why is it so hard to believe?” Dabi could not control his frustration anymore and his heart cracked at the way you almost flinched at the raise of his voice, “what is so wrong about it that you try so hard to deny that I could be in love with you?”

You wanted to. You wanted to just believe in it and run into his arms, but it was all too much to take in right as you were hurt by someone else. You could hear voices at the back of your head too, and each of them was whispering things that made you fear things you shouldn’t.

You could feel your lips tremble as you used all of your might to pull yourself together, even when the man in front of you looked like he was so close to breaking down. “You know everything and I know nothing about you,” your throat tightened as you forced each word out of your shaking lips, “I’m just afraid of being thrown away, is that all too wrong?”

You could not bring yourself to look into his eyes, those hypnotizing orbs made of crystal that were filled to the brim with pain because of you. You could hear the glass crack. “You think I’ll do that to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry.

That one line burnt through his chest and made his ears sting, the dull ache all too much to handle.

You called in sick to work the next day.

And the day after that.

It was a cowardly move and it made you feel miserable, but you would much rather shut yourself in than go and face Dabi like nothing happened when everything was different. You could not bear to imagine the way he would look at you, the way those eyes had looked at you when you were too occupied with someone else to notice. If escaping from reality meant that you could pretend like you did not caused his pain, you would defer every minute until you had no choice but to return to the real world.

But the world did not work that way.

You turned off the alarm, and you stilled got up at the exact time you normally did when you would go to work. You picked out the shirt that was in the same dark shade of purple as the ink he used in the shop you wore to work because he always said that it made you blend into the shop more, that you two matched. You brew two portions of coffee when you were living on your own because you brought coffee to work that one time and Dabi did not stop nagging you about it until you started bringing an extra flask for him every day since.

He was so printed into your life that you didn’t even realize how he left his shadow in every part of it until you had the need to stop thinking about him and failed.

Dear god, you missed that bastard so much.

Now you felt stupid, and you felt terrible for pushing him away all for nothing. Because it was Dabi we were talking about. Dabi, who was never wrong about anything. Dabi, who you gladly worked for the past 2 years and made it the happiest time of your life. Dabi, who annoyed you and made you laugh all at the same time. Dabi, who was more concerned about your health than you did most of the time. Dabi, who was the reason why you did not mind going to work every day at all. Dabi, who tried to warn you about someone who eventually hurt you before you even noticed the signs. Dabi, who noticed that you had been crying and forced you to take a day off. Dabi, who made you forget that you just had a breakup the day before because he was just that good. Dabi, who told you that he was in love with you and looked wrecked when you didn’t believe him.

Dabi, who maybe, just maybe you were in love with as well.

Dabi felt miserable. It was nothing new, but he felt even more miserable than he normally did so he was really wallowing in an inhumane amount of misery. You hadn’t shown up in days and he never knew how dysfunctional he was without you until now.

He missed you so god damn much.

He kept trying to tell himself that it was his shop and he would be fine, but everywhere he turned there was something that reminded him that you were here just a few days before. That plant you put beside the door because you said the shop looked like it was lifeless when you just started working here, the small Jack Skeleton poster on the wall that you got him as a gag gift last Christmas because “he reminded me of you”, that half-emptied cereal box in the cupboard that you forced him to keep because you were convinced that skipping breakfast was bad for his health. Everything in the shop was your as much as it was his, and they were all mocking him in the face at how lost he was without you around.

Dabi hated his powers, it was nothing more than a slap in the face that he had no control over his own life. If he had the choice, he would never use it again if it meant that he could finally enjoy life without that voice in his head telling him exactly what would happen before he even get to savor it just a little longer. But now, for the first time in a long while, he closed his eyes and wished for the picture in his head to be the same as the one he saw before. The all-knowing seer who snickered at those who believed in fate now begged for the vision in his head to be unchanged.

The vision was so real that he almost thought that you were actually standing there in front of him instead of some fake image in his head.

Please be real. Please, please, please be real.

“Hey.”

You had so many things you wanted to say to him. You kept practicing the speech inside of your head as you sprinted on the route you knew at the back of your head again and again but when you saw him, standing there with his eyes closed, even the voices in your mind went silent as it gone blank and the only thing you could barely utter was that one word.

“Hey.”

Dabi could feel the lump in his throat as he finally registered that it was all real and he did not made it all up because he went mad. There were so many things he wanted to say to you but he didn’t dare to say anything more than that, too afraid that if he said something wrong, you would disappear again.

“I’m sorry.”

The same words that pained him now brought him the smallest sense of relieve and you almost let out an indecent sob when you heard his reply.

“I missed you.”

And that was all it took for you to crash into him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Dabi quickly wrapped one arm around your waist, the other brought his hand up to your head and threaded his fingers into your hair. He clutched you tightly in his arms like you would back away at any time if he didn’t hold onto you.

When you finally pulled back, you lost your breath at how close you were to him. You could stare right into his eyes. And those eyes, those eyes you would never grow tired of looking into.

You felt his hot breath fanning your lips as his face was only so little distance away from yours yet he didn’t lean in any further as if he was waiting for a sign. So you gave him one, and locked you lips on his as your hand reached for his chin, your thumb gently caressing the metal studs on the side of his face as he tugged on your bottom lip.

You were breathless when you pulled away, lips numb from the intimacy it just experienced mere seconds ago. As Dabi closed the distance once again, you could hear the smirk in his voice that made you want to punch him and kiss him all at the same time.

“Told you my predictions are never wrong.”

#dabi x reader #villain month 2019 #dabi #bnha #bnha imagines #mha imagines #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha imgaine #mha imagine #dabi imagine #modern magic au

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angelsandacceptance · 3 years

Text

Genie of the Lamp

Chase and Harley’s plane touches down on the tarmac in Oahu, Hawaii. After everyone leaves the plane the girls head to their hotel with an ocean view. On the plane Harley had started rereading the Harry Potter series for the thousandth time. Chase, rather, had binge watched horror movies while cross-stitching (and has now made up her mind to never admit how many times she stabs herself).

“This is the nicest place we’ve stayed in a while,” Harley comments when the two enter the hotel room. The room is quaint, but lavish compared to the motels they were used to staying in. This room had high, white walls, a large bathroom, with a jacuzzi tub and shower. Ornate mirrors hang on the walls opposite each bed, with a large flat screen tv in the center.

Chase sighs, running and landing on her back as she jumps onto one of the beds with a laugh. “This place is awesome! Ugh, just what we’ve needed. When’s the last time either of us had an actual vacation?”

“There was that week I decided to visit my family.”

“Yeah, but that was still a while ago. This is also like, real vacation. I mean, look at that view!” Chase points out the large window, spanning most of the far wall, curtains pulled back to display the gorgeous view; they can both see the beach, with the waves lapping at the shore, few people dotting the shoreline as they relax in the sun. Green, lush wildlife grows abundantly all around them. “We don’t see that everyday. Can’t tell you when the last time I was at the beach was.”

“Me either. I can’t wait to be in the ocean again.”

“Same! Let’s change real quick, then we can head down to the water.”

The girls change in their swimsuits, before grabbing towels and running down to the beach. Harley has to chastise Chase, who forgets to put sunscreen on and begins to turn pink within minutes.

After Harley is satisfied with Chase’s cover of sunscreen, which only helps to make her look somehow paler than normal, they race to the water. Chase grabs Harley in a bridal style hold, only to quickly drop her in the surprisingly warm waves. Chase, however, is not thinking clearly when she does this, because Harley’s arms are laced around her neck, dragging her into the water as well. They both surface, spluttering, wiping the water from their eyes. They both shriek and laugh at each other’s reactions as they dive further into the waves, splashing each other.

***

The girls head to a food shack on the beach soaking wet, towels loosely tied around their hips, though not bothering to catch the water dripping from their hair. Chase brushes hers back with her fingers, pushing the accidental pink strands from her face (accidental because the die was purple but didn’t stick). Harley simply ignores her own Auburn-red hair, which drips slightly from her bangs.

A waiter comes by, asking if they are ready to order. Having known what their first meal in Hawaii would be, they both nod excitedly. They each order fish and chips and Chase gets a fruity cocktail.

“God, I love fish.” Harley says, eating a piece.

Chase, taking a bite of her cod, nods enthusiastically. “This is so amazing. Ugh, the boys are missing out.”

“Yeah, too bad Dean’s afraid of flying. If he wasn’t they might’ve come.”

“I don’t know. Sam did say that he didn’t want to go so far. But yeah, Dean probably could have changed his mind. I mean, c’mon dude I’m scared of heights and everything, but you don’t see that stopping me.”

“True, guess he’s just a scaredy cat.”

Chase laughs. “Don’t let him catch you saying that. It might hurt his feelings.”

“Then he’s a sensitive scaredy cat.”

“Another thing to not let him catch you saying.”

“Let him hear it. I’ve caught him saying worse about me.”

“Yeah, he probably wouldn’t say anything he’d just go in the corner and pout.”

“That would be hilarious.”

Chase nods agreeing, taking another bite of her food.

***

The girls got back to their hotel room to find a collective amount of 30 missed calls from Dean and texts from Sam saying he tried to stop him. Harley immediately calls him back and he picks up before the first ring.

“Where the hell were you? I thought the plane went down!” Dean shouts.

“We just went swimming. Chill,” Harley says, trying to calm him down.

“Would it’ve killed you to call... Wait, you went swimming? What are you wearing?”

“Gross!” Chase yells into the phone.

Dean hesitates before defending himself, “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“You’re Dean, of course you did,” Chase says.

“Maybe I’ll tell you later,” Harley teases.

Chase turns to Harley with wide eyes, mouthing, ‘Oh, we are so talking about that later.’ before turning back to the phone. “Don’t get any funny ideas there, Deano. I can and will kick your ass.”

Dean and Sam both laugh over the phone, Dean having obviously put the girls on speaker.

“Ten bucks on Chase,” Sam comments.

“Hey!” Dean exclaims.

“I’m so not getting involved in this one,” Harley says.

“So no one’s betting on me?”

“Course not, Dean. Why would they?” Chase laughs. The girls can both just imagine the pout on his face. “Look, now you know we aren’t dead, so can we go to enjoy our vacation please?”

“What if I want to talk to you?” Dean asks.

“You literally could have come with us, but noooo. You’re too much of a scaredy cat to.”

“Hey, you’re afraid of heights, Chase,” Dean says in defense.

“Yeah, but you don’t see that stopping me. I promise, we will talk to you later, okay?”

“I want nightly and morning updates!”

“Nightly,” Harley says, trying to compromise.

“And pictures,” Sam says.

“Okay, okay, we promise.” “Good,” Dean says. “I will talk to you two later.”

The girls bid their goodbyes, then hang up, sighing in relief before looking at each other in disbelief. They both burst out laughing, thinking of how Dean is paranoid, but how it is also endearing.

“Morning and night. I mean really? Once a day is more than enough,” Harley mutters.

“Really though. What does he think’s gonna happen?”

“Who knows what goes on in that brain of his.”

“Well obviously what goes on in that brain of his is ideas of you in a swimsuit.”

“Any girl in a swimsuit more like.”

“I dunno about that. He seems very keen on just you. However, I have to ask. ‘Maybe I’ll tell you later’ probably did not help him think about anything else. What was with that comment?” Chase fake shudders. “It was in front of me and everything.”

“I was just teasing him. It’s not like it meant anything,” Harley says plopping down on her bed.

“Right. It meant nothing. Nothing at all. I bet that is definitely the truth,” Chase says, sarcasm dripping heavily from each word. “Because thinking that you would say that and not mean it in any way would be preposterous. Of course I know you were teasing him! My point is you wouldn’t be teasing him without due cause.”

“I really would be though.”

Chase raises an eyebrow. “Mmmhmmm. Sure. Let me just call bullshit real quick.”

“Okay maybe I wanted him to think of me a little, but that’s it.” Harley says defending herself.

“Yeah,” Chase scoffs. “Just ‘A little’.”

***

The girls woke up the next morning, well, Chase woke up. Mainly because Harley didn’t know how to be quiet while she’s getting ready.

Sitting up onto her elbows, Chase checks her phone, groaning at the sight of a steady 7:21 staring back at her. She turns to Harley with a frown and creased brows. “You seriously couldn’t have waited nine more minutes for my alarm to go off?”

“Sorry, Scooby wasn’t cutting it for me anymore,” Harley says as South Nashville Blues plays at full volume in the bathroom and she does her makeup.

Chase, meanwhile, flops backwards onto her bed, simultaneously grabbing a pillow and covering her face. “Wake me up in nine minutes.”

“Six minutes now.”

“Wake me up in six minutes then!” Chase exclaims, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“Fine,” Harley sighs, dragging the word out before asking herself, “Should I even bother doing my hair? It’s just going to get wet. We’ll probably get some photos on land though. Right?”

“I’m curling mine, then I’m not gonna care until after we get back out of the water. After that, I’ll probably just braid it.”

“I can’t stand when my hair’s curly. I think I’m gonna straighten it. Just in case. Hey, did you bring any hairspray? I didn’t pack any.”

“Oh yeah, I did. I wanted to make sure my curls stayed even if it got windy. Why? You don’t need it to straighten your hair.”

“Yeah, but you can use it to waterproof your makeup.”

Chase shoots up in bed. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. I’ve done it before.”

“Okay, I’ve got to try this! I was just planning on skipping eyeliner, but now I don’t have to.” Chase gets out of bed, silencing her alarm before it could go off, joining Harley in the bathroom.

***

Harley fiddles with the radio before giving up and playing something on her phone.

Chase groans, letting up on the gas. “Why is this car so touchy?” She turns to Harley, gesturing slightly to the speedometer. “This car is so annoying! Jack would never do this to me.”

“It’s because it’s a newer car. That’s why it’s so touchy.”

Chase scoffs. “That doesn’t give it the right.”

“It’s just for a couple of days.”

“The audacity!” Chase exclaims dramatically.

“Calm down, it’s just for a little while.”

Chase sighs, continuing as though Harley hadn’t spoken. “Just like the audacity you have, claiming you don’t like my brother.”

“Hey, we're not in Jack. No talk about me liking Dean.”

Chase rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say.”

“Thank you.”

Sudden realization dawns on Chase. “Wait, you just admitted you liked him!” Chase refrains from screeching-but just barely.

“I didn’t mean I liked him. I just meant you think I like him.”

“Ugh. Okay, okay, fine whatever. Be in denial. What’s our first scene gonna look like for pictures?”

“We could do a shot like the main poster for H2O.”

“Ooo, yes.”

“And then I brought my waterproof camera.”

“Wait, you did bring it? I forgot my polaroid sadly.”

“Yeah, I remembered thankfully.”

“Okay, cool. Now here we are! Surf ‘N’ Shack. Think they sell food? I didn’t eat breakfast.”

“I’m sure they sell food.”

“Good.”

***

The girls smile, looking out at the wake crashing onto the shore. Plenty of beach is in front of them, but there is also rocky cliffs situated to their right. The perfect place to take photos. The girls had their rented silicone mermaid tails and struggled to put them on for longer than they would like to admit.

“That was exhausting.” Harley admits as she finally gets her tail on.

“That was… unpleasant. But the pictures will be well worth it.”

“They better be,” Harley says, flipping herself over so she’s not sitting on her dorsal fin.

Chase struggles to her feet, using the surrounding rocks to help her hop closer to the water. “This is gonna take a while,” she laughs after three hops.

Harley starts crawling across the sand towards the water dragging her tail behind her. Chase laughs at her, before losing balance and falling over.

“It’s easier this way,” Harley chuckles.

“Well, it looks weird. Oh my God! I just realized. It is going to be so much harder to get this off when it’s wet!”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Well, it’ll definitely be more uncomfortable.”

“It’ll be weird for sure. Like shedding your skin.”

“I never asked, wanted, or imagined that mental image until now. So thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome. Wait, we should take the H2O photo before we reach the water.”

Chase gasps. “That’s brilliant!”

“I have my moments.”

“You mean moment, because you’re never not brilliant.”

“Aww! Thanks!”

“Well duh.” Chase scoots closer to the water. “Now, let’s get this done with so we can go swimming!”

Harley takes the photo as her arms are longer. Then they continued to crawl till they reach deep enough water to swim.

***

“I’m beached! I’m a beached whale!” Harley yells as she reaches the shore.

“I’ll save you,” Chase shouts, swimming and then scooting up the shore to Harley. Then, she lays there, tired out. “Shit, now I’m beached.”

The two girls started laughing uncontrollably at their beached state.

“Best vacation ever,” Harley says between laughs.

“I’m just glad that we get to relax and nothing is going wrong.”

“Oh god, did you just jinx it?”

Chase shrugs, peeling her tail back a little at a time. “I doubt it,” she huffs. “Seriously. We are in Hawaii on vacation for Thanksgiving. We deserve a break. I’m sure God, wherever the hell he is, recognizes our efforts, and will grant us some peace.”

“Sure, like he’s been much help before.”

“Well, he will give us peace this week, or he will be punched very, very hard when I meet him.” Chase looks to the sky. “And that’s a promise!”

Harley begins trying to kick out of her monofin before pulling the tail skin down.

Chase shimmies out of hers, kicking her legs slightly, her hands brace on the ground behind her for support. “This is one of the most annoying things I’ve ever had to deal with.” Blowing the hair out of her eyes, she continues, “What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”

“The spa and that hike to the Kaniakapupu ruins.”

“Oh, yes, a spa. That sounds like heaven.”

“It does, doesn’t it. I wanna get some gel nails so I don’t constantly have to redo them.”

“I want a fucking massage.”

“Honestly. I probably need one. Either that or a chiropractor.”

“Same. Or death.”

“You are not allowed to die on me.”

“No promises,” Chase laughs.

“Fine, but you have to come back.”

“That, I will figure out how to do. There’s no way I’m going to die and miss out on the rest of our adventures together. That, and Dean owes me twenty bucks and pie that he still hasn’t paid up for.”

“What bet was it this time?”

“Like, I don’t remember, a month ago or so, Dean told me I couldn’t eat a whole pie in ten minutes. I bet him twenty bucks and another pie. Guess who won?”

“You.”

“Oh hell yes. Anyway, you wanna get food? I could go for some good Hawaiian bbq right now.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a fun new experience.”

***

Chase puts the phone on speaker as the dial rings exactly one and a half times before Dean picks up the phone. “Chase! Thank God you called. I was about to get upset that you’d break your promise.”

The girls hear Sam sigh over the phone. “We saw those pictures you sent. You two look like you’re having fun.”

“You look hot.” Dean pauses. “Obviously I’m talking to Harley.”

“Wow, Dean. I feel so much better now,” Chase says sarcastically.

“You look nice too, Chase,” Sam amends.

“Thanks, boys. We miss you too,” Harley laughs.

“Of course you do,” Dean says, “No one to cuddle with at night.”

Chase rolls her eyes.

“You flatter yourself,” Harley retorts.

“I do,” Dean responds cheekily. “All the time. But guess what?”

“So do I?” Harley guesses.

“You flatter me too, wait- How’d you know I’d say that?”

“Because you’re predictable?” Chase guesses.

“I’m not predictable,” Dean says feigning hurt.

“I thought you were gonna say I flatter myself actually,” Harley counters.

“Well, see, I’m not predictable.”

“You kinda are, Dean,” Sam says.

“My own brother, betraying me like this.”

“What am I?” Chase asks. “I’m your sister and you’re not as offended? Rude.”

“You’re rude saying I’m predictable.”

“Well, you’re rude because-”

“Guys, really?” Sam asks, sounding tired.

“What?” Chase demands. “He started it.”

“Well, you guys are weird. I’m gonna go wash the sand out of my hair. So, bye, love you guys,” Harley says before getting up and heading to the bathroom.

“Was that an invitation?” Dean asks, thinking Harley is still near the phone.

“Ew, gross, goodbye,” Chase says, hanging up the phone, despite her brother’s protests.

Shaking her head, Chase lays down onto the bed, waiting for her turn in the shower.

***

Today the girls head out to a group tour of the Kaniakapupu Ruins. “When was the last time we went sightseeing?” Harley asks.

“Other than everytime you stare at Dean? Don’t know.”

“I don’t stare at him.”

“Yeah, okay, and I don’t- uh. I don’t. Shit, I totally forgot what I was going to say,” Chase says, turning a light shade of pink. “Anyway, these ruins sure are pretty!”

“Yeah, and so is the land around it. Absolutely stunning.”

“You’re stunning. Quick, go over there and I’ll take your picture!”

Harley goes to stand in front of a fallen archway and Chase takes her picture. “Your turn!” Harley says, stealing the camera.

Chase laughs, shaking her head, but strikes a ridiculous pose nonetheless, a hand on her hip, the other on the back of her head, sticking her tongue out at the camera. “Okay, now we should probably catch up,” Chase says, gesturing to the group a few paces ahead of them.

The rest of the tour went as normal as possible with Chase and Harley around. At least that’s what the girls thought until they overheard their tour guide talking to someone else about how a girl, Megan Brown, didn’t come back from the tour.

“Excuse me, ma’am, are you saying one of the girls disappeared?” Chase asks, interrupting the tour guide, who seemed to be talking to a head officer of some sort. “Is the tour route going to be closed down then?”

The tour guide shakes his head. “No need. It seems every couple months when we do this tour, a couple people wander off and get lost. There haven’t been any signs of animal attacks or kidnappings.”

“And you haven’t thought to handle the situation more thoroughly?”

“Have you even looked into the disappearances?” Harley asks.

“Of course,” the officer says. “But it isn’t anything you two need to be concerned about.”

“It seems that it is,” Chase continues. “If this happens so often, you’d think you would have a better handle on things.”

“As long as you two don’t wander off, you will be fine. You two girls run along and don’t get into any trouble.”

Harley and Chase huff, but listen to the instructions.

***

As Chase and Harley enter the spa, they’re surrounded by three people each. Harley has one man along with one woman, while Chase is surrounded by two women, each of them in their early thirties at the latest.

Chase and Harley give each other a thumbs up as they are led to their own spa stations, close enough to hear, talk to, and make weird faces to each other, in hopes of getting one to laugh.

“I’m Kai,” the man introduces. “And this is Kayla. The two lovely women attending you are Sarah and Halola.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“So where did you two come from?” Kayla asks. “And what are you here on? Honeymoon perhaps?”

Harley shakes her head with a laugh. “No, actually. Just vacation.”

“We just came for the early holidays. We were just at the Kaniakapupu ruins.”

“Oh! That tour. It’s always so...interesting to hear the stories once visitors come back.”

“How so?” Chase asks.

“Well, you see-”

Kayla is cut off by Halola, who says something rushed in what the girls assume is Hawaiian. Turning back to the girls, Halola smiles. “It is nothing. Just petty gossip surrounding people who aren’t smart. We really shouldn’t talk about it or bother you.”

“You mean the disappearances. Well, a girl went missing on the tour before ours. Does that really happen often?”

“Sadly, yes,” Kai says, ignoring the rolled eyes of Halola and Sarah. “But really, what happens to them is just a legend told to tourists by us locals to scare you. Really, I wouldn’t think much about it, at least for the time being. Now is your time to relax.”

“What’s the legend say?” Harley asks.

Kai smiles. “Well, legend is, King Kaniakapupu had an affair with another woman who wasn’t his queen. Driven mad with jealousy and rage, Queen Kanua’pele killed both him and his lover. Distraught over how the queen let the kingdom go after his death, he haunts the ruins, seeking revenge on any person who dares intrude in his home.”

Chase and Harley stare at him, slightly unimpressed.

“Huh. That’s a good story,” Chase says.

“Yes, yes, a story and nothing more. Not even a good story at that.”

Kai shoots Halola a look. “Ah yes, because I’m sure you prefer the older beliefs.” Halola stiffens slightly. She relaxes within a second, however.

“I simply don’t believe in ghost stories and you shouldn’t be telling them to visitors that already are aware of the very real disappearances that occur.”

“It’s alright,” Harley says.

“Yeah, trust me. Not much scares us away,” Chase laughs.

“Even so,” Halola continues. “At least relax and we can finish this process. Next, you’ll be having your massage and then manicures.”

Chase and Harley grin at each other, pushing the story Kai told them aside for the time being. Next, they were getting massages.

***

“So, that was the best thing ever!” Chase exclaims, flopping backwards onto the bed.

“Agreed! Today was awesome! Except for the whole we might have a hunt thing.”

“Uh, no. No, no, and no. I might have allowed myself to be curious, but this is my vacation, and I will not be working on it!”

“Fine, I’ll just go it alone on this one.”

“Yeah, also not happening. I know you can hold your own and everything, but I would rather not have Dean trying to kill me.”

“He won’t try to kill you.”

Chase raises an eyebrow. “Right. I guess he didn’t give you the same pep talk.”

“Seriously, Dean?”

“Yes, seriously! You leave her alone for a moment, I’ll kill you. And you better not be running off on your own either. You are to go, have fun or whatever, and then come back. NO hunts, NO jobs, NO nothing. Capisce?”

Chase rolls her eyes. “Why would either of us need to go off on our own?”

“Because it’s you and her. Somehow, you guys are gonna do something or you’ll say something and boom. You’re separated and she’s in trouble or you are, and then you’ll fix it.”

“So you think we would fix it though?”

“That won’t keep me from killing you if something goes wrong.”

“Of course, blame me!”

“That’s what I plan on.”

“Fine, fine, okay! I’ll be careful. We won’t go off on our own. We’ll keep you posted.”

“Good. Now go have fun. And call me when you land.”

Chase makes a face at him. “Yes, dad.”

“Wait, he said all that?” Harley asks.

“Yep! So now we know who his favorite is. And it isn’t me, his own flesh and blood,” Chase sighs dramatically.

“Wow,” Harley says, so low it barely registers.

“I know, right? It’s like he doesn’t trust us!”

“He really said all that?”

“Yeah. He sure is a buzzkill.”

“So we don’t listen to him. I mean we rarely do anyway.” Chase pauses, thinking for a moment. “You’re right about that. But I still say we don’t get involved unless we have to, okay?”

“Just one last look around the ruins?” Chase glares at Harley before sighing loudly. “Fine, I guess. But we go with a guide and group again. If something happens on that trip, then we can investigate.”

“Deal!”

***

“I told you there wasn’t any reason to be here again,” Chase complains, staring down at the EMF reader.

“Wait, do you smell something?”

“Does bullshit count?”

“No, it smells like metallic-y.”

“Thought you were gonna say sulfur there for a moment. But yeah. Smells like blood,” Chase says, glancing back at the group. She takes a head count, then frowns. “See anyone missing from the group?”

“The chick with the giant sun hat?”

“Yeah, and the tour guide.”

“He didn’t want us looking into the disappearances,” Harley points out.

“Yeah, and now he and another woman are gone. What should we do?”

“We should split up and look for clues.”

“You watch too much Scooby Doo. Honestly, best plan right now is to probably stay with the group and see if the tour guide comes back. What’s his name?”

“Paulo, I think. And yeah you’re right, about both.”

“Of course I am.”

Ten or fifteen minutes later, the girls can’t be sure, Paulo seems to have reappeared from nowhere. He stands with a few others, pointing out carvings in the pillars against the far entrance. However, upon further inspection, the woman who had disappeared along with him is still gone.

“Okay, maybe it’s a good thing we came back,” Chase relents.

“Told you.”

“Oh, don’t pull that card.”

“I’m pulling that card.”

“Rude,” Chase pouts.

“Well, I’m not the nicest person in the world.”

“Fair. To be honest, if you were, we probably wouldn’t get along nearly as much as we do. Speaking of doing, what do we do about Pablo over there.”

“Paulo.”

“Same difference.”

“Find out what he is and gank him,” Harley shrugs.

“Guess that ghost story is just that. A story. Of course, a ghost would have been too easy.”

“I don’t know some are pretty nasty.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. Still, we at least would have known what to do. Now, we don’t have many leads, other than that,” Chase emphasizes ‘that’, nodding her head at Paulo. “We should go back to the hotel and come back here tonight.”

“Agreed.”

***

Harley takes up dialling Dean for the night. “Hey, we’re still alive,” she says as soon as he picks up.

“Good,” Dean says dead serious.

“Let a little laughter in your life. Jeez.”

“I’m good thanks.”

“Buzzkill.”

“I am a joy to be around.”

“Ladies, ladies, you’re both very pretty. Moving along?” Chase says breaking the two up.

“Duh, have you seen me?” Harley jokes.

“I have and I can’t help but like what I see,” Dean flirts.

“Oh shush, I’m not gonna be one of your one night stands.”

“I never said that.”

“It’s what you were thinking.”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea what I think of you.”

“Good things I hope.”

“More than good.”

“Ackomygodthatissoackkkeee,” Chase squeals in a high pitched tone, almost incoherently.

“What was that?” Dean asks.

“That was me puking because you’re disgusting, duh.”

“Yeah, right, okay.”

“I mean it was disgustingly sweet,” Harley says laughing, “I thought you didn’t like chick flick moments.”

“I don’t.”

“Suuuure you don’t. How’s Sam doing? I haven’t heard from him.”

“I’m good, just tired,” The girls could hear Sam say in the background.

Harley rolls her eyes before saying, “We miss you tons.”

“I miss you guys too,” Sam laughs.

“I miss you moreeee,” Chase over exaggerates.

“Yeah, probably,” Sam quips.

“Ouch,” Chase mutters.

“Well I’m gonna let you guys go so Sammy can get some beauty sleep before he kills me,” Dean says.

“He’ll kill you anyway. You’re just that annoying,” Chase says.

“Says you!” Dean fires back.

“Yeah, says me, the least annoying sibling.”

“You are so not the least annoying,” Dean says.

“You’re both annoying. Shut up!” Sam shouts from wherever he is in the room (his voice sounds muffled, as though buried in a pillow).

“Bye Dean, bye Sam!” Harley calls out.

“Can you believe the gall of that man?” Chase exclaims after the phone call ends. “The nerve?”

“I thought it was hilarious,” Harley says.

“Of course you did. You were still distracted about Dean’s previous comment!”

“Which one?”

“You’re actually asking me that? As if you haven’t been replaying that sentence in your head for the past ten minutes? Please. I’m not that dumb.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, sure you don’t.”

“I don’t!”

“Okay, okay, whatever you say.”

***

The two hunters stand in front of the ruins, flashlights illuminating the dirt path in front of them as they stare up at the crumbling walls of the old palace.

“I guess we should sp-”

I swear to God, if you say the words “split up”, I’m going to super glue you to my side.”

“You got a better idea?”

“No,” Chase mutters dejectedly.

“Then yes, we should split up.”

“Fine, but the moment something happens, call me, okay?”

“Duh. I’m not an idiot.”

“Jury’s out on that one. Let’s go.”

“Oh my god, you’re so rude.”

“You’re the one suggesting we split up so, am I wrong?”

“Yes, you are, because we’ll probably be fine.”

“We’ll see.”

***

Chase wanders down yet another corridor, softly humming AC/DC under her breath, a habit she has for when she’s nervous. Flashing her light against the walls turns up nothing, though the sight is pretty.

Suddenly, after about half an hour, something flickers in her peripheral vision. She whirls around quickly, all sound being cut off. Cautiously, she walks over to the doorway she’d seen the movement coming from.

She pokes the flashlight through the doorway first, before following with her head. She looks left. Nothing. She looks right. Also nothing.

Chase sighs, placing a hand to her head, squinting her eyes tightly, as though that could make her headache disappear. Turning on her heel, she walks back into the corridor, only to collide into something hard. She stumbles back, before noticing she’d walked into a wall.

She really shouldn’t walk with her eyes closed.

She growls under her breath, walking through a high arch, leading into a large open space, equally as dusty as the past few rooms. She checks behind the large pillars, hoping to see some evidence of...anything, really. Just as she’s about to leave into another hallway, she spots a flicker of movement again. Turning her light to the center far wall of the room, she sees a large stage-like stone, atop it what looked like human remains of some kind.

“Perfect,” Chase mutters, wandering over. “Just perfect.”

Chase grabs her phone, bringing up the name “Harley Quinn”, pressing the number.

“Yeah? Find something?”

“Yeah. Human remains. You know, body parts, some bones. The usual.”

“Lovely,” Harley mutters.

“Yeah, anyway, I think there’s something still here because I keep seeing movement. I don’t know, I may just be paranoid. But- oh for fuck’s sake.”

“What’s up?”

Chase whips out her gun, firing a couple shots at the figure looming over her, of course, making little headway in keeping it at bay.

“You stupid Aladdin character looking ass,” Chase mutters, dropping her phone after the figure makes a swipe at her. The woman, djinn, grins at her, reaching out a hand.

“Chase? Chase!” She hears Harley’s voice shouting from the other side of the phone call, before her vision turns white.

***

Harley searched the ruins high and low for any sign of Chase before finding her phone on the ground. She pocketed it before surveying the area. She noted the body drained of blood. That and Chase calling the creature an ‘Aladdin character looking ass’ clued her into it being a djinn they were hunting. She headed to the hotel room pocketing a silver knife.

Harley drove to the nearest sheep farm. She picked the locks and found a lamb before calling Sam.

“Hello?” He asked, yawning.

“Hey. Do not put it on speakerphone. Don’t tell Dean it’s me.”

“Dean’s asleep. Why are you calling?”

“Swear none of this leaves this phone call first.”

“I swear. Now, what’s going on?”

“Chase and I were hunting a djinn, but we didn’t know it was a djinn yet so we didn’t have the proper weapons. Basically she got kidnapped by the djinn and now I have to murder a lamb and I’m freakin’ out man.”

“Okay, slow down. Chase got kidnapped?”

“Yeah, please don’t be mad.” “I’m not mad, just worried. Do you need backup?”

“No, I just need to kill this lamb, but like it’s so precious and sweet.”

“Who do you care about more? Chase or the lamb?”

“Chase, but the lamb is really up there.”

“Look, just stab it. You just need the blood. You don’t have to kill it.”

“Right, yeah, I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I still blame myself for all my fish dying after I cleaned their tank when I was in grade school. I still feel guilty about that shit.”

“That’s...okay, um just pretend it’s a werewolf.”

“I have aphantasia, Sam! I literally can’t do that!”

“Okay, then you’re just going to have to do it. Don’t think, just do.”

“Okay?” Harley squeezes her eyes shut blindly bringing the knife down until she hears the bleat of the lamb. She opened her eyes and saw the white of the lambs fluff turn red. The knife was coated in the lamb’s blood. “I did it, oh god, I did it. Fuck, I’m a monster. I mean I’m always a monster, but now I’m even more of a monster.”

“Harley, calm down. You’re not a monster.”

“Yes, I am,” She says, tears building up in her eyes.

Sam sighs, “Just do me a favor and go rescue Chase.”

“Right, yeah, bye. I’ll call you after I rescue her.”

“Alright, bye, Harley.”

***

Chase laughs, pointing mockingly at one of her best friends. Harley sits close by her side, twirling a knife. Setting the camera up to take another picture, Nathaniel flips off the moon.

“Shit, this is not going to come out right. We should’ve picked a different night.”

“Hey, you invited me out, not the other way around,” Chase says.

The horizon is surprisingly easy to make out, considering it’s eleven at night. The full moon illuminates the scenery, a small town in the distance, it’s lights twinkling lazily.

“Can you fix this for me?” Harley asks.

“Sure,” Chase responds, starting to braid Harley’s hair.

“Ah! Got one I actually like,” Nathaniel shouts in victory.

“Hey, we wanna see!” Harley says.

Nathaniel bends down, showing the two girls a photo of them, sitting next to each other, looking out in the distance. You can’t see much detail, but the two are relaxed and enjoying themselves.

---

Chase runs through the house, getting chased by an overly loud man.

“Dean, Dean, stop! It wasn’t me!”

Getting scooped up by her older brother, she dissolves into a fit of laughter, getting tickled in all of the worst places. “Then who was it?” Dean demands playfully.

“Sam, okay, it was Sam!”

Dean lets go of Chase and turns to slowly look at their youngest brother. “It was you!”

Sam looks at Chase. “Snitch.” He takes off down the stairs and all three can distantly hear Bobby yell, “No running in the house, ya idjits!”

Chase watches on, taking deep breaths, laughing slightly still.

---

“I did it, I did it!”

“Um, hello?” Harley asks.

“Okay, fine, we did it.”

“Was that so hard?”

Bobby comes up behind the two girls, hugging them both. “I’m so proud of you two.”

“Stop, Bobby, you’re gonna wrinkle the gown.”

“You’ve already graduated, what does it matter now?” Dean asks, taking yet another picture.

“It’s about the pride,” Sam says. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t understand. I may not have graduated from a fancy college like you three, but I am still the coolest one here.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Dean,” Chase says.

“Yeah, obviously, I’m the coolest one,” Harley adds.

“Okay, okay, I relent. Obviously, I am the coolest one here, other than my smartass fiancee.”

Dean wraps Harley up in a hug, while Sam and Chase roll their eyes, mouthing ‘I told you so’ to themselves.

“Okay, okay, I want one last picture of all of us,” Sam says.

Sam asks a random family to take a picture and they oblige. Sam stands at the very back, his arms around Dean and Bobby’s shoulders, while Harley and Chase stand side by side in the very front. Their smiles are wide, and their hearts content. They wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

***

Harley arrives at the ruins, african dream root in her messenger bag and silver knife in hand. She began searching in the djinn-eral area that Chase disappeared from. She found Chase’s phone before she found her in a cavern by the ruins.

“Chase!” Harley yells as soon as she sees her. She runs up to her friend's limp hanging body, and gently slaps her cheek trying to wake her up. It doesn’t work so instead she gently cuts her friend free and lays her on the cavern floor and takes out her IV. Harley then frees who she assumes is Sunhat Lady. She assumes as she has since lost her hat.

The djinn enters the cave and it takes a moment for Harley to place her heavily tattooed face. “Halola, right?” Harley asks.

“You remembered, I’m surprised.”

“I never forget a pretty face. Too bad I’ll have to kill you.” Harley frowns before lunging at Halola. She dodges and tries to grab Harley’s neck. Harley ducks and drives the silver blade through the djinn’s heart. Halola screams then goes limp.

***

“Chase! Thank god you’re alive!” Harley yells hugging her for dear life.

Chase moves away slightly, very confused.“Look, I know I said I was stressed about the job interview, but it’s nice to know you have so much faith in me. Could you possibly extract your limbs from me now?”

“No you don’t get it. This isn’t your life. We’re hunters. We were in Hawaii hunting a djinn when you got attacked,” Harley says extracting her limbs from Chase, “All this is fake.”

Chase looks at Harley with an increasing degree of bewilderment on her face as Harley continues to talk. “Uh huh, sure. And you and I haven’t been roommates since college, you’re not engaged to my brother, I’m not about to work for the high end firm I’ve been trying for years to get, and Sam isn’t a bad singer.”

“I’m sorry what?! Me and I’m assuming, Dean are engaged? Wow this is a weird world you’ve created.”

“Dean and I.” Chase gives Harley a blank look. “And no. Sam.”

“Me and Sam?! What the actual fuck!”

“Sam and I. And that was sarcasm, dumbass. How much sleep did you get last night?”

“None. Vampire remember.”

“Okay, so no more mixing alcohol and horror movies for you. Got it.” Chase stands up from her seat. “You should probably get some rest. You’re not acting like yourself.”

“I don’t drink. The whole murderous bloodlust thing doesn’t mix well with alcohol. And I am acting like myself, because I african dream rooted into your brain.”

“Okay, so do I have to go along with what I’m assuming is another improv thing or can I ask- what the hell is african dream root and what is going on?”

“Improv? Okay. Well african dream root lets you go into other people’s dream so you can talk to them-”

“Uh huh, sounds fake but continue,” Chase says, waving a hand.

“And you got touched by a djinn while we were on vacation in Hawaii.” Harley says increasingly impatiently.

“Wait, we went to hawaii?” Chase thinks for a moment. “Djinn. Djinn, djinn, why does that ring a bell? Isn’t that like a genie. Like Aladdin?”

**“You stupid Aladdin character looking ass,” Chase mutters, dropping her phone after the figure makes a swipe at her. The woman, djinn, grins at her, reaching out a hand.

“Chase? Chase!” **

Chase lurches forward, a hand on her head, as though suddenly dizzy.

“Yes! Thank god! Yes!”

“What was that?”

“My best bet? You remembered something from your real life.”

“This is my real life,” Chase says forcefully. “My name is Chase Winchester. I am a graduate from Harvard, I volunteer at the library, and you’re my best friend. I’m twenty-eight. I’m going to be your maid of honor. Bobby and Ellen are practically my parents and my two brothers are Sam and Dean. This is real,” Chase says, as though trying to convince herself more than Harley.

“No, it’s not. Travelling across the country in Jack is real. You relentlessly teasing me about the fact that I might like Dean. You totally crushing on Cas, and us saving the world. That’s real.”

“Who’s Cas?”

“An angel and a friend. He gave us pie.”

**“Harley? Chase? Are you two okay?” Cas asks.

Chase nods, whilst Harley can barely breathe enough to answer, just putting a thumbs up. “Yeah, we’re fine. Why do you ask?” Chase asks nonchalantly.

“You were running, screaming, and you’ve got burns on your arm.”

Chase looks down to see that the bleach that had spilled on her earlier had indeed burned her slightly. “Oh this is nothing. Harley got some in her eyes, so I mean. It’s whatever.”

Cas frowns at Chase. He moves one of his hands, both of which were still holding onto Chase’s biceps, and places it over the burns. A second later, they’re gone.

“Oh, thanks. Anyway, you can let go of me now. I’m sure I’m less inclined to fall at the given moment.”

“Oh, right, yes. Of course, I’m sorry,” Cas stutters, stepping back. **

Chase clutches her head with both hands, her vision blurring and refocusing suddenly, leaving a nauseous feeling in her stomach.

“What the hell is going on?!”

“I think you wanted this life so bad you repressed your actual memories and now they’re coming back. But that's just a theory.”

“What?” Chase asks incredulously. “Tell me, if this isn’t real. What is? You?”

“Well, yeah, like I said I african dream rooted myself. Now I’m in your dream world.”

“Convince me then. Go on. Tell me what you know about me.”

“We met when I was twenty and you were twenty-one. We were chasing an orange eyed demon who went by Hank. We started helping each other on hunts. You won Jack, that’s our car, in a poker game a year later and we finally hit the road together and we haven’t looked back since. I also happen to know you have a folder on your computer that’s just pictures of me and Dean sleeping.”

“Wait, you know about that folder?”

“Yes, I know about that folder and it’s all perfectly innocent.”

“How? I hid it behind a folder of lore on poltergeists, which you never read about-” Chase cuts herself off, frowning. “I don’t know where that came from. I don’t have any folders on my computer like that.”

“You do on your real computer.”

“But-but- Keep telling me stuff.”

“We went to visit Sam at Stanford then went to go fight a sphinx. We hunted the demon that killed your mum and dad. You found out I’m half vamp when I got kidnapped by some friendly vampires who were trying to prove a point. We have fought so many monsters together and this one is no different. You gotta believe me.”

Chase, confused and slightly dazed by the rush of images flooding her brain, notices Harley beginning to freak out. “Okay, say I believe you. Then what do I do?”

“Well, um, you have to kill yourself,” Harley says looking away, her voice strained.

Chase blinks. She blinks twice. “Come again?”

“You have to kill yourself.”

“Yeah, let me go take a long walk off a short pier. How am I supposed to kill myself? I haven’t shot a gun since I was twelve! I haven’t held a knife outside the kitchen ever. And I see no rope or high ledges because I'm not crazy!”

“Well, that’s how Dean got out.”

“You got something to help me then?” Chase asks jokingly, only for her eyes to widen as she sees Harley pull a silver knife covered in blood out of her jacket. “Okay, what the fuck?”

“I killed a djinn with it, and stabbed a lamb. So it’s not the cleanest blade ever, but it’ll get the job done.”

“You killed- you stabbed a- of course you did. Hand it over.”

Harley hands the knife over.

“Okay, Harley. I’m going to go through this logically. If you’re messing with me, you wouldn’t give me an actual knife. This is fake or you’ll somehow stop me and it’ll be fine. Or, if I’m dreaming, I’ll wake up because your brain can’t process dying so you wake up when you die in dreams.

“Or, or somehow. In some fucked up way, you’re telling the truth. Tell me. What is it worth to go back?”

“For starters you’ll die if you stay in here. And also none of the people here are real. None of this is real. Cas isn’t here. Trust me you wanna wake up.”

Chase pauses for a moment, fear reflecting in her eyes. Screwing her eyes shut, her face scrunched in concentration, she pulls the knife towards her, a stinging sensation rushing through her abdomen before she feels nothing.

***

Chase opens her eyes to see Harley hovering over her, worry etched onto her features.

“Man, no need to look so worried. When have I ever turned down the offer to kill myself?” Chase jokes. Harley cracks a smile, shaking her head. “I know, I know, that was awful. Can we get going though? If we don’t call Dean in the next half hour, he’ll freak.”

“It’s kinda almost morning.”

“Wait, already? Shit. I’m still so tired,” Chase says, sitting up. She winces. “And sore.”

“It’s fine we’ll just say we had an early night. Let's get to the hotel and you can rest up.” Harley says as she shoots Sam a text.

“Wait, did you really kill a lamb successfully without freaking out?”

“No. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Chase sighs. “Figures. Let’s head back.”

***

Harley dialled Dean as Chase slept recuperating from her djinn ordeal. He picked up on the first ring.

“Before you say anything, sorry, we fell asleep early.”

“Bullshit! Y’all never fall asleep early!” Dean yells. Harley has to hold the phone away from her ear.

“Yeah, well we spent all day hiking, walking, and swimming, so we got a bit exhausted. Sorry. Look I just woke up, Chase is still out. What more do you want from me?”

“I want a lot from you, but right now I want an explanation.”

“You want a lot from me? Like what?”

“I want you screaming my name as I fuck you against the motel table.”

“Dean!” Harley yells. “I told you I don’t mess around like that.”

“I know,” Dean sighs defeated.

***

Chase and Harley sigh heavily, their bags falling off their shoulders as they slump against the wall.

“Remind me again to choose a later time to fly out from wherever we are. I never want to get to an airport that early again,” Chase complains.

Harley nods, grabbing her water bottle. “Where are the boys anyway? Weren’t they supposed to be here?”

“Who knows?” Chase rolls her eyes. “Dean probably got distracted by something. Or maybe they got lost. That’s something they would do.”

“The only place Dean gets lost is in New York,” Harley counters.

“Yeah, but Sam?”

“Yeah, but Dean’s probably driving.”

“Oh, I meant in the airport. God knows, they probably didn’t bother looking at the signs.”

“Probably not,” Harley sighs.

Chase sighs, sliding her back down the wall, settling into a comfortable position. “Tell me when they get here.”

“When,” Harley says as the boys round the corner.

“What?” Chase opens her eyes to see Sam, an annoyed expression gracing his features, and Dean, an uncomfortable one on his. “Of fucking course.”

“Sorry it took so long; we thought we could beeline here, but it’s been a while since we’ve been in an airport,” Sam says, side eyeing Dean.

Dean immediately just hugs Harley, who had opened her arms slightly, indicating she wanted attention. Sam helps Chase off the floor, before grabbing her bags.

Harley and Chase share a knowing look, stifling a laugh that screams, ‘knew it’.

Rolling his eyes, Dean kisses Harley’s forehead, before reaching down and grabbing her luggage.

Walking out of the airport, Dean and Sam pester them with questions about their trip. They, in turn, pester the boys about what they’d been doing in their absence.

“I’m just happy we’re back,” Harley says, getting into the backseat of the Impala.

Chase nods, “Me too.”

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shhhhyoursister · 4 years

Text

uh hi so i wrote that first autistic matteo thing and it felt really good and i want to write more so im gonna write this one thats less sweet and is also maybe me just?? completely projecting??? but thats not new!!!!!

***

Matteo flipped through the shirts and sweaters hanging in his closet, and he frowned, and stared flicking his fingers on the hand that had been resting calmly at his side. He started looking through them again, the other way, wondering if he had missed the sweater he was looking for. Once he had gone through them again, and then again, and he realized that the sweater he wanted definitely wasn’t there, his frown deepened, and he started bouncing on his toes a little.

“What time were we supposed to be leaving again?” David said from the bed, where he was lazily scrolling on his phone, already dressed, and Matteo couldn’t focus enough to remember, so he stayed silent.

They were going to hang out with Jonas and Hanna, and Matteo knew that they were probably running late, but he was still standing in front of his closet, bouncing, his fingers twitching at his sides, completely dressed except for his bare torso.

He went over to his hamper and started searching through it, trying to remember the last time he had worn his cream-colored sweater with the red pattern. It had to have been recently, as it was one of specific clothing items that Matteo wore often, usually for multiple days in a row. Once he had dug through, and still couldn’t find it, he felt his stomach clench with a familiar feeling.

Some days, Matteo didn’t give a fuck what he wore. He would grab random shit out of his drawers and closet and end up with an outfit that barely matched, but he didn’t care as long as he was clothed. David would usually fondly tease him for the interesting combinations of patterns and fabrics that Matteo would manage to pull on.

And then there were the days where he wanted to wear specific things. Needed to. Like, actually, legitimately needed to. His gray sweatpants, his weird purple jacket, his blue sweatshirt, and lots more, even including some things that he had stolen from David (he hadn’t stolen it, David was more than happy to give up a sweater and a couple of shirts in exchange for a few of Matteo’s). And, his cream-colored sweater with the red pattern, the one he was looking for, and couldn’t find.

“Matteo?” he heard David say as he moved on to dig through a drawer in his dresser, rocking a little as he frantically pushed aside a bunch of shirts and sweatshirts and other things that weren't his sweater. Again, he didn’t answer.

His hands started twitching as his sides as his eyes flit around the room, trying to think if there was anywhere else it could be, and he got an idea. Without saying anything he left the room, ignoring David calling his name, and started searching through the rest of the flat. He couldn’t find it in the kitchen, and by the time he had moved onto the next room David had followed him.

“Matteo, what’s going on? We need to go soon.” He looked annoyed, in a way that David almost never did, and Matteo bit his lip as he felt a wave of shame and panic wash down his spine.

“Have you seen that sweater i have with the red...whatever on it?” He was too focused on looking around the room to explain more, and he hoped David knew what he meant.

“I don’t know? I think you wore it a few days ago, I don’t remember. Can you get dressed so we can leave?”

Matteo stopped for a second to look over at David, who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and a smile on his face that seemed a little forced.

He knew that David had been going a little stir crazy being stuck in the flat with a Matteo who was coming down from an intense sensory overload that had happened a few days prior, but no matter how many times Matteo told him that he was okay to be alone for a little while, David refused to leave. It was the third day, and David had been showing obvious signs of restlessness.

“I want to wear it.” Matteo said back, hoping that David would understand. He was feeling a weird embarrassment that he only felt around David when he was doing something like this, something that was annoying and inconvenient because of his autism. He started flicking his fingers again, his nails digging in a little more, when David frowned.

“I don’t want to be late, Matteo, can you wear something else?“

Matteo froze. He knew that David knew that he preferred wearing certain items, that it made him feel good and calm, and could probably even name the clothes that Matteo wore the most. But he didn’t understand the feeling that was twisting Matteo’s insides up and made him grab onto his arm, and start scratching his nails under the sleeve at even just the suggestion of wearing something else.

“I- I,” Matteo stuttered for a moment, not able to get the words out through the mixture of shame and anxiety and whatever that other thing was that was filling him up, and he slid his hands into his own hair and started tugging a little as he finally got out, “No. I can’t.”

He was kind of hoping that he looked desperate enough, and was sure that he did, with the way that he was grabbing his own hair and bouncing on his toes, and he had no idea what expression was on his face but it was enough to make the annoyed look on David’s face turn into his concerned one, and Matteo made a small sound out of relief.

“Okay, hey, that’s okay,” David said, as he took a few steps closer, leaving about a foot of space between him and Matteo as he reached his hand out and asked, “can I touch you?”

Matteo nodded his head jerkily, and David smiled before stepping forward and loosening Matteo’s grip, and let Matteo squeeze his hands instead. Matteo took another step forward and dropped his head to David’s shoulder, and took in a deep, shaky breath,

“Do you want me to help you look? I can text Jonas and say that we’re going to be a little late.” David said,and when Matteo moved his arms to squeeze around his waist, he started stroking his hand down Matteo’s back, pressing a little harder then he might have usually, but the pressure felt amazing and even slightly helped loosen the feeling in his gut.

Matteo nodded, and pulled away so he could grab David’s hand to lead him to his room. He started looking through his closet again, searching through the stuff on the floor, while David texted Jonas and started looking through his dresser. They searched silently for a few minutes, Matteo feeling less of the shame but still all of the thing that made him want to call Jonas and cancel their plans so he didn’t have to think about the possibility of having to wear something else.

“Found it!” he heard David call from the dresser, and he whipped around, a grin growing on his face as David held the sweater up with a grin of his own. He walked over and slid it on over his head, and hummed as he pushed his arms in, and then let the sleeves flop over his hands so he could rub the fabric on his face.

“Feel better?” David said, sliding his hands onto Matteo’s hips and pulling him a little closer. Matteo took a few steps and collapsed onto David, and smiled when he heard him chuckle.

“Yeah, way better,” Matteo sighed into David’s shoulder, and then turned his head a little and bit his lip before saying, “I’m sorry I made us late.”

“No, don’t apologize, I should be the one apologizing,” David said, pulling away a little so he could look Matteo in the eyes (who tried to return the gaze, he really did, but ended up looking at David’s nose after a second), “I was being a dick, i didn’t realize that it was something you needed. I’m just glad we found it.”

“You found it,” Matteo said, pulling David in again, getting a hand in his hair, “and you weren’t being a dick.”

They hugged for a moment, Matteo feeling almost overwhelmed but in a good way with the feeling of David squeezing him tight, finally wearing the sweater, his fingers sliding through David’s hair, and he was even a little more excited to hang out with their friends.

David only pulled away when his phone buzzed, and Matteo whined before grabbing onto the back of his shirt and clenching his hand in the fabric, and followed when David didn’t stop. He wasn’t ready to give up the feel of David pressed against him so he draped himself on David’s back, his arms winding around his waist and squeezing a little.

“Oh, shit,” David said, and laughed a little, before dropping his head back onto Matteo’s shoulder and saying, “they just cancelled on us.”

“Oh no,” Matteo said, in an exaggerated sarcastic tone, “I guess that means we need to stay here and cuddle.”

David snorted as Matteo pulled away to tug him onto the bed, and pushed David onto his back so he could curl up on his chest. He rubbed his cheek against the fabric of David’s shirt and smiled when he heard just as sarcastically from above him, “Oh no, how terrible!”

“It really is,” Matteo said, feeling more relaxed and content than he had in days, that feeling growing as David slid his arms around Matteo’s waist and held him tight, “truly the greatest tragedy of the decade.”

#davenzi fic #davenzi fanfic #druck fic #druck fanfic #davenzi #matteo florenzi #david schreibner #matteo x david #autistic matteo #noggins #haha catch me almost having a meltdown over not fiinding something earlier #i wish i had a boyfriend like david damn #at least i had harri to whine at thanks harri youre the real mvp

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willow-salix · 4 years

Text

Isolation update.

Day 71 of Isolation on Tracy Island.

“Hey, Grandma, you OK?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen, finding her slumped at the table, her chin propped up on her hand, miserably swiping through pages on her tablet.

“Yes,” she sighed.

“That didn’t sound convincing,” I said gently, sitting down opposite her. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, not really. I’m just getting a little tired of all of this lockdown business.”

“I think we all are,” I sighed in agreement.

“I know I should be grateful that we have such a nice place to spend it, but I just want a chance to see more than these four walls, to go out somewhere with the family, maybe for dinner, you know? Somewhere nice where I don’t have to cook and can relax a bit.”

I didn't mention that it would be nice for all of us if she didn't feel the need to cook.

“I know, I just need to stop complaining and get on with it,” she huffed, clearly annoyed with herself as she got up to fetch another cup of coffee.

"Don't be silly, you're allowed to have a little moan now and then, it makes you human. The boys have been complaining non stop since this started. We're all restless and moody."

"There are people a lot worse off than us," she sniffed. "We aren't struggling, we live on a paradise island that many would kill to even spend a day on. We should count our blessings."

"Yeah, we should," I agreed softly, but my mind was whirling. There had to be something we could do to make her feel better, she did so much for us all and I didnt like to see her this way. It wasn't like I could conjure up a restaurant right here… or could I? Not a full restaurant, but maybe a nice meal for her, a chance to dress up and have a good night? That I could do. I pulled out my phone and sent a group text to everyone but Grandma, invoking the summoning that no one was allowed to ignore. “Council of war!”

***

We all assembled in the lounge, leaving Grandma to bang around in the kitchen in a foul mood.

“Guys, I have a plan,” I announced.

They all groaned.

“No! Be nice! Seriously, this is a good plan, it’s important. Grandma is having a bad day, she’s feeling a bit restless and down right now. She said that what she really wants is to be able to go out somewhere for a nice family meal.”

“She’s always loved going to nice places,” Jeff agreed.

“That’ll be a little hard right now unless she wants to sit in a street somewhere with a burger,” Scott said, scratching his chin vigorously. Yes, the beard beginnings were still there and apparently still annoying them.

“ I don’t think that's quite what she had in mind,” Virgil laughed.

“So, here’s my plan," I continued before they could go off on one of their tangents. "I think we should make her favourite dishes and then all dress up nicely, I’m talking suited and booted, eat in the dining room and be all fancy. But keep it a secret for her.”

They didn't look too convinced at first, but slowly they saw the merit of my brilliant idea.

“If we handle the cooking and the table, can you and Kayo distract Grandma for the afternoon?” Virgil asked.

“Sure, I’m sure we can think of something, but are you sure we can trust you all to cook?”

John rolled his eyes. “We are perfectly capable of cooking for ourselves, you know, we are grown men.”

Now it was my turn to not believe what I was hearing.

“Seriously, you can trust us,” Alan promised me.

“Really? Usually you all need wrangling just to get through the day. You honestly think you can do this without arguing?”

“It’s for Grandma,” Gordon shrugged. “We’ll do it for her.”

That was a statement I couldn't argue, they would do anything for her.

“OK. Kay, this is going to be tough on both of us, but we’re gonna have to be brave.”

“Why?” she asked, immediately suspicious.

“Because we’re going to let her dress us up.”

***

Leaving the boys with recipes and strict instructions to behave and follow the plan to the letter, we tracked down Grandma.

“Grandma, wanna join us? We’re having a girly pampering day,” I asked.

“Both of you?” she clearly didn't believe that Kayo had been involved with the planning of said day. Time for plan B.

“Kayo lost a bet to me, and I said that, in payment, she has to allow me to put makeup on her and make her wear a pretty dress.” There, that sounded more believable, the glare Kayo was throwing in my direction certainly went a long way towards making it look more convincing.

“To make it fairer I said I’d dress up to, want to help?”

“I get to dress you two up?”

Kayo and I glanced at each other, in my case for moral support and strength, in hers to shoot me another death glare that promised retribution.

“Sure, as long as you dress up too, we’ll make an afternoon of it and have fun.” I nudged Kayo.

“Yeah, great fun,” she agreed. “So, are you in?”

“Heck yeah I’m in. When do we start?”

I spotted Scott peeking around the door and making shooing gestures at me.

“How about now?”

“Now? But I’m not done cooking yet.”

“Don’t worry about that now, there’s stuff in the freezer, I’m sure we can throw something in later,” I soothed.

“Alright, that sounds like a solid plan, let's do it!”

***

“Kay, hold still!”

“You just poked me in the eye with a tiny spindly brush covered in black gunk and you’re telling me to hold still? What, so you can blind me a second time?”

“It’s mascara, you sarcastic moo, and it’s your own fault you got poked. If you kept still and only blinked when I told you to it wouldn't have happened.”

“You can’t tell me how to blink.”

I gave her a look that said I’d smack her the second her back was turned. She, as always, was unphased.

“I saw what you did to Scott, you’re not making me look like a clown are you?”

“Lies!” I hissed. “I did no such thing! He looked beautiful, his eyes were blended to perfection and his cheekbones could have cut glass. It was Gordon that looked like he’d been drinking while playing with paint and that was down to Virgil, not me.”

“You both look beautiful,” Grandma smiled. “This is what I missed out on having only boys to look after, doing girls hair.” She continued to manhandle Kayo’s hair, brushing out her perpetual pony tail and attempting to twist it up at the back of her head into some kind of chignon that honestly was looking more like a deflated balloon had mated with a dead squirrel. “Why won’t this thing stay put?”

“I’ll fix it in a minute,” I promised as I brushed a little bronzer over the apples of Kayo’s cheeks, giving her already gorgeous tawny skin a little more depth. She had the nicest skin to work on, seeming to be unhindered by even the slightest of pores or blemishes, just perfect, the cow. Here’s me, I look at sugar or fat and I put on six pounds and have a breakout.

We had started by letting her do her own makeup while following my instructions as I did mine but Kayo is not the most delicate of creatures and when I spotted her stabbing a brush into the eyeshadow pallet, swirling it around like she was casting a Wingardium Leviosa and proceeding to scrub the colour (a startling shade of neon green) over her eyelid I’d called time. I ordered her to wash it all off and had taken over.

She didn't actually need much makeup, a little sweep of a dusky rose and darker brown over her eyelids, mascara to make her already long eyelashes stand out, a subtle dusting of bronzer, some loose powder to set it all and some burgundy lipstick and she was done. I took a lot more work to look that good.

Grandma had taken my makeup kit and helped herself, going for the classic blue eyeshadow, bright pink cheeks and vibrant red lips that had last been popular in the 1980’s. It didn't flatter her in the slightest but she was having a great time telling us all about how she had pictures of her mother with that look and she had thought that she looked so beautiful that she hadn't been able to resist trying it out. I couldn't talk, my habitual mashup of goth punk rocker with a side of geek wasn't exactly in keeping with the rest of the world either.

We dug through our wardrobes and selected possible outfits that we thought would do and held a mini fashion parade, allowing Grandma to make the final choices for what we would wear. Kayo’s evening wear selections seemed to mostly be made up of jumpsuits and Grandma eventually settled on one in black that had a sari style drape going over one shoulder that was accented in gold. I immediately made Kayo sit back down so I could accent her eyes with a little gold glitter eyeshadow powder to match.

Grandma seemed to be incapable of purchasing anything that wasn't purple, not that I could talk, it was one of my favorite colours too. She had chosen a nice, if slightly boxy looking, dress that stopped below the knee, with a rounded neck and no sleeves. She borrowed a black lace wrap from me and called it good.

Her hair had been growing out too and was a little too long to stay in its trademark flicked up end curls, so she allowed me to whip out the curling wand and give her a few waves that bounced happily around her face.

I fixed Kayo’s hair disaster at the same time, twisting it up from the nape of her neck, pinning it in place and then curling the ends which I’d left loose.

“You both look amazing, now wasn’t this fun?”

Kayo mumbled something that didn't sound quite like a yes but wasn't entirely negative either.

“Just for fun, shall we keep this on for dinner and surprise the boys?” I asked innocently.

Grandma grinned. “Oh yes, that would be great. You girls have really cheered me up today. We might not be going out for a nice meal, but this has been a close second.”

“When all this is over we’ll have a night out in London, we’ll drag the boys along, it’ll be great,” I promised as we made our way down to the kitchen.

“I thought you said the boys were handling dinner tonight?” she accused, looking at the table, currently bare of its usually after dinner debris of dirty plates and charred cooking dishes.

“Maybe they haven't started yet?” Kayo suggested.

“You have so little faith in us,” Scott announced from the doorway where he, Jeff and John stood. They had actually scrubbed up well, each foregoing their usual casual wear for a nice shirt -Scott and Jeff's were both white while John had chosen a midnight blue one- ties and smart trousers (we live on an island, it’s far too hot for jackets unless they wanted to sweat all night). they had even made an effort to try to neaten up their unruly hair. Their chins were still a disaster, the scruffy buggers, but at least they tried, it seemed that even a posh dinner wasn't a good enough reason to give up on an active competition.

“What are you boys up to?” Grandma asked suspiciously.

“We came to escort our guest of honour,” Jeff answered, offering her his arm and leading the way to the dining room.

The other boys looked just as well turned out, even Brains with his tufty regrowth on his head had dressed for the occasion, although his suit was a complete eyesore, a powder blue monstrosity with a ruffled shirt that looked as up to date as Grandma’s makeup, but bless him he tried.

Gordon was still wearing a hawaian print top, but it was a full shirt, with a real collar, and was tucked in to his trousers, which actually reached his ankles so I’d call that a win.

Alan was wearing a shirt that was just a little too large for him, obviously borrowed from one of the others but his trousers fit well. He had a properly knotted tie and looked so much older than he usually did, so smartly turned out, although he still managed to look adorable.

Virgil had on a mint green silk shirt and black suit trousers combo that should have made him look like a cheesy Vegas magician but he somehow managed to pull it off.

They had made the dining room look amazing, laying out the fancy china and real wine glasses, even lighting candles and piped through some soft classical music (I’m pretty sure I know who was responsible for that). The table held covered dishes that actually smelt edible and they had even hunted out some cloth napkins instead of the usual paper towel we used on a daily basis.

“You boys did all this?” Grandma gasped, seeing everything for the first time.

“We thought you could do with a night off from taking care of us,” Jeff told her, helping her into her chair.

“This all looks so nice and you boys look so handsome, although you'd look better without the face fuzz.”

“Small victories, Grandma, we got them to dress nice, we can’t ask for miracles,” I smiled.

She nodded, her eyes looking a little moist in the candle light but none of us dared to comment on it.

“We all thought you deserved some special treatment for looking after us all so well,” Virgil told her as he poured her a glass of wine and we took our seats.

Dinner was actually quite nice, it appeared that the boys had managed to cook without killing each other and follow the recipes, maybe finally realising that following instructions isn't always a bad thing had stuck with them.

They had stuck to simple but delicious dishes, a simple soup to start, followed by a nice italian style carbonara, garlic bread and crisp green salad, and apple pie with ice cream for dessert. Yeah, it probably wasn't something we’d have in a posh restaurant, but it had been made with love and I knew that that would mean more to her than anything.

Grandma was treated like the queen she was all night, being served first, her glass kept topped up and not allowed to lift a finger.

We refused to let her help clean up, insisting that she retire outside with Jeff to enjoy the beautiful night. We joined them after we finished taking everything to the kitchen, loading the dishwashers and hand washing a few delicate items.

We finished the evening with some of Virgil’s fancy coffee while they all reminisced and told stories of other family dinners.

She made sure to hug each and every one of us extra tight as she said goodnight, leaving us to finish the coffee and put ourselves to bed.

It had been a lot of work, but the smile on her face and the joy in her laughter had made it all worth it. That's what you have to do in times like these, make a special effort to look after those that look after you so selflessly, to show you care and that you appreciate them. These unusual times are hard on everyone, but we all know that if we stick together and do our best to think of others before we think of ourselves (something the International Rescue boys do everyday of their lives) then we can get through anything.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #isolation island #isolation #self isolating #social isolation

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afishcalledfatin · 5 years

Text

Dr NAKAMOTO

ALL MY COVERS HAVE THE NAME INSOMNIAC BECAUSE THIS WAS FROM MY OTHER ACCOUNT!!

Fafa's note: ahhh hello~ the story is super long and I apologise if the quality isn’t as good. I hope you enjoy it!

summary: in which Yuta, a scary and intimidating doctor suddenly develops feelings for a resident who was working under him, you.

Pairing: doctors! Yuta x female reader

genre: FLUFF

• He’s a neurosurgeon.

• Super serious

• A member of “handsome doctors” group.

• Has a smile that can make anyone swoon

• Rarely smiles though. Unless with friends, family and patients.

• Everyone is intimidated by him.

• But he isn’t an asshole to the residents and interns. He’s just firm with them.

• “A hospital is no place for funny business.” you’ll always hear him say this. Which is true.

• Tough demeanour

• But super soft on the inside uwu

• Has a soft spot for Dr Dong. “SICHENG NOTICE ME!” “DR NAKAMOTO STAHPPP.”

• Drinks black coffee but will get a green tea or hot chocolate once in a while.

• MAKE SURE TO ADD MARSHMALLOWS TO HIS HOT CHOCOLATE!

• Dyes his hair and doesn’t get into trouble. I don’t know how he does it.

• “Is Dr Nakamoto’s hair purple?” “Wasn’t it grey the other day?” Nobody dares to ask though.

• Will always offer to pay but secretly hopes he doesn’t have to when paying for dinner with the guys.

• Sorta scared of the emergency ward. Johnny has to go to him if he wants to hang out

• Resting bitch face is strong with this one, he looks really hot though. You could see him from a mile away and feel goosebumps grow. He’s that powerful. “Is it cold or something? Oh wait, no it’s Dr Nakamoto.”

• But will nod in acknowledgement to patients.

• Legend says if you smile to him he might smile back.

• Nurses constantly talk about him. Oh, he knows by the way. He just doesn’t say anything.

• SUPER SOFT FOR HIS PATIENTS. LITERALLY ALL SMILES AND COMFORTING WORDS.

• Hangs out with Dr Jung a lot. Also because Dr Jung is very curious on how the human brain works. Dr Nakamoto just goes along with it.

• “YUTA I HAVE QUESTIONS.” “That’s Dr Nakamoto in the work place and I’ll only answer them over coffee and cake.”

• What’s it like to work with him?

• You need to be dedicated and focused.

• Expect a lecture once in a while.

• He really loves and appreciates those who work with him. He just doesn’t show it. If he ever says “good job today.” “you did well.” “keep it up.” Its short for YOU GUYS ARE GREAT AND TALENTED I LOVE ALL OF YOU PLEASE DON’T GIVE UP.

• Loves to bully Mark and Donghyuck.

• “I’m a better doctor than Mark right?” “I like Jaemin.” “but Jaemin is a nurse.” “Your point is?” “ARE YOU SAYING WE’RE BOTH BAD DOCTORS?” “I gotta go finish my paperwork.”

• Worries for his friends sanity sometimes but loves them no matter what.

• “Yuta, why do we have fingertips but not toe tips. BUT WE TIP TOE AND NOT TIP FINGER? YUTA WHAT?” “Taeil you should come in for a check up sometime. I’m genuinely worried for what’s going on in there.”

• But sometimes he hits blunt too.

• “Sicheng, do you think fish see water? Like we don’t see air. Holy shit.” “Uhm…”

• Pays attention to everything. “Did you use a new perfume?” “yeah, I am. I’m surprised you noticed.”

• Secretly wants to find love but doesn’t know how.

• Then you walked into his life.

• You were a resident who was working under Dr Nakamoto. At first, you were under the impression that he didn’t like you. Then again, he didn’t really like all the the residents.

• But he noticed how you were always writing reminders and notes. You were skillful and made sure there wasn’t a mistake in your work. He found your bubbly personality quite questionable at first but after a while he got used to it.

• “Are you alright?” “I’m just tired, finish these up for me.” which you will. He always wondered why you never complained with the amount of work he gave until one day he asked.

• “You never whine or silently curse like your colleagues, why is that?” “I make sure I’m not a burden to you. The last thing I want you to feel is that I’m not serious about this. This is my dream and I’ll do anything to make sure it comes true.”

• After that, he trusted you with a lot of tasks. He knew you were the best one out of your whole group and you were also happy that he trusted you.

• You actually grew closer. Having silly arguments and all. You had a small crush on him but you ignored it.

• “Cereal first then milk. Period.” “Nah, milk then cereal.” “Doc, you’ve got serious problems.” “Excuse you, but the cereal doesn’t get as soggy as fast.”

• He usually lets you win

• Sometimes it’s actually serious though but its never gotten so bad where you’d avoid each other. He became really scary that one time you mixed up a bunch of papers. He was really pissed at you and you snapped causing you to get your emotions in the way.

• “I can’t believe you mixed up the papers Y/N. I’m disappointed in you.” “I’m so sorry.” “You should be. You’ve just wasted my time. Did you know that those files hold very important information about each and every one of my patients? Because of you, now I will need to- ” “I didn’t mean to, okay? Did you think I wanted that to happen? No, I didn’t.” Your voice breaking. You walked off, slightly teary.

• You were having a tough day. Your family cat had fallen ill, you couldn’t sleep, a patient vomited on you and overall you just had a really shitty day. He was shocked. That was the first time anyone has ever snapped at Yuta.

• He would normally be super frustrated but that day, his chest hurt when he saw you walk away.

• He had let you cool off first then you found a cookie with a note that said “are you okay? I’m sorry for yelling at you. Forgive me?” in your bag. You knew he didn’t show emotions well, so the fact he did that made your heart swell. That was when your feelings for him began to grow.

• At first, he didn’t understand why he cared about your feelings so much. He ignored it for so long.

• “I shouldn’t be treating her like this. All residents need to be treated equally but I can’t help but.. care for her.” He told Taeyong. Taeyong looked at his confused friend. “Yuta, I have a few questions for you. When she’s with her male colleagues, how do you feel?” “Honestly, a bit annoyed. The way they talk to her its just so irritating.” “Okay, how bout when she’s happy? What makes her happy?” “I get this warm feeling when I see her happy. She gets really excited when she accomplish things.” “Okay, final question. Do you hate seeing her sad?” “Of course! she gets teary eyed and pouty. I DON’T KNOW IT JUST HURTS.” Taeyong merely laughed.

• “Yuta.. you like her.” Yuta was staring at Taeyong. He hasn’t liked anyone since middle school. “Are you sure?” “Yuta, you get jealous seeing her with other guys. You are happy when she’s happy and you never want to see her sad because you get sad yourself. The last time we spoke of the residents, you didn’t care for any of their feelings. You. Like. Her.”

• You guys were back to normal but he seemed quieter than usual.

• You didn’t know why he was quiet and you decided to change that. You told him your jokes.

• Even though the jokes were really bad, he would eventually let out a chuckle. Followed by “Gosh, you’re really lame sometimes.” But he loved having you around anyways. He knew you were trying your best to make him happy.

• The doctors noticed how his mood has changed lately. He wasn’t as serious all the time.

• “Look, I’m not saying I didn’t like it BUT I WAS NOT EXPECTING HIM TO TICKLE ME.”

• That was when Taeyong decided to tell the group about Yuta’s little crush.

• “WAIT, SO YOU’RE TELLING US THAT OUR BROODING AND SERIOUS BEST FRIEND IS DEVELOPING FEELINGS FOR A RESIDENT?” “Yep” “Doesn't he hate the residents though?” “Oh, he still does. Except for that certain one.”

• They would occasionally ask how you were and that one time Johnny and Jaehyun joined you for lunch.

• “Y’know, finding the one can make you really happy.” Jaehyun said out of the blue. “Yeah, I gotta thank Dr Nakamoto for introducing the love of my life to me. I wish he had someone too.” Johnny said as he drank his coffee. “Uhm yeah. That would be nice.” you said awkwardly. “WELL, I MEAN HE’S BEEN REALLY LONELY AND- OH MY GOD YUTA. HEY!” Johnny dropped his spoon as he saw Dr Nakamoto standing behind you. “Uhuh, who were you talking about, Johnny?” your lunch break was over so you decided to YEET.

• “Well, it was nice having lunch together. Thank you!” you walked past Dr Nakamoto and he gave you a little smile.

• They were about to leave before Yuta stared at them causing them to sit back down. “Well, you see, Y/N is such a great person and-” “You guys, I know that you all know. Doyoung asked me about it.” he plopped down in one of the seats. “We’re really happy you found someone, y’know.” Jaehyun smiled. “I don’t think she feels the same way though...”

• The other residents were lowkey jealous of how the other doctors were treating you but they teased you about it though.

• “Y/N your favourite doctor is looking for you.” “what?” “Dr Nakamoto?” “guys.. stop.” As you run away.

• “Y/N, its urgent please come to my office.” You received a text from Dr Nakamoto. You were already on the way there.

• “Doc?” because you were typically close with him, he didn’t mind if you called him that. Only you though.

• “Hey, uhm so I wanted to talk to you about something.” For the first time, the confident Dr Nakamoto was nervous.

• “Sure! About?” you waited for his reply until he shook his head. “Uh, you are finally ending your residency in a week.” You nod, not sure what he was trying to say. “What I wanted to say was…” you waited. Secretly hoping. “I’M TREATING ALL OF YOU FOR DINNER THE DAY YOU GUYS BECOME DOCTORS.” You smile a bit. Slightly disappointed but still happy. What a goof.

• “Thank you doc. I’ll tell the rest of them.” You walked out.

• “You idiot.” Yuta muttered to himself as he plopped back into his chair. “Why can’t you just tell her?” he huffed.

• You told everyone and they were excited.

• A week has passed and you and your colleagues were officially doctors.

• Yuta came up to you. “Congratulations Y/N. Here.” He gave you a small box.

• You were shocked that he got you a gift. “Thank you, Dr Nakamoto. You shouldn’t have.”

• He smiled and walked away. You got a text from him. It was the address to the restaurant.

• Everyone was out of their scrubs and was now wearing their casual attire. You opt for an over sized sweater and tucked it into your jeans. You paired it with heeled boots. You opened up the gift he gave you and you smiled. It was a bracelet with stars. You have mentioned how much you loved stargazing. You were surprised that he remembered. You carefully picked it up and wore it. Finally, you tied your hair into a messy bun.

• You looked great.

• Dr Nakamoto hasn’t actually seen you outside of work before, so when he saw you he literally chocked on his water.

• “Doc, you okay?” you sat across from him. He was wearing a white dress shirt. He unbuttoned the first two buttons and rolled his sleeves to his elbows.

• You couldn’t help but look because hot damn.

• “Yeah, just saw… something.” He continued to sip on his water.

• The dinner was great, some doctors couldn’t drink because they were working that night including you two.

• You couldn’t help but notice how… happy Dr Nakamoto looked. He barely smiled or laughed in front of many people.

• He also invited the other doctors which caused many of the customers at the restaurants to stare at the group of good-looking men.

• You didn’t notice how you were staring at him. He turned to you and gave you a sweet smile, making you look down. You blushed, hard. Dinner was over and Yuta obviously paid, like he promised. Taeil sighed in relief.

• “Hey Doc! Wait up!” you called for Yuta. Both of you were working tonight, so you thought you could just walk back with him.

• He turned around, his jacket in his hand while his other hand was in his pocket. Man, he looked great. His shirt was tucked into his fitting pants. His hair pushed back. “Is everything alright?” he asked. You cocked an eyebrow. “I’m on duty tonight. I thought we could walk back together.” He nodded. “Sure. C’mon.”

• The walk was quiet. It wasn’t awkward, it was a comfortable silence.

• “Y/N, I need to tell you something.” “What is it?”

• “I… I really-” a raindrop fell onto his cheek. Both of you looked at each other before rain began to pour.

• “Are you serious?” he muttered, you were trying to cover your head from the rain.

• Yuta suddenly pulled you closer to him as he covered the both of you with his jacket. “Let’s run.” You both ran to the closest bus stop. You both laughed together. He stopped and stared at you, a smile on his face.

• “Y/N.” He called. You face him and saw him coming closer to you. “I swear to god, I hope this works.” You were about to question him but then his strong hand held onto your waist and pulled you to his chest, while his other hand holds your face gently. His lips on yours, moving slowly. You were shocked at first but you wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed him back.

• “You have no idea how nervous I am. You’ve been occupying my mind for the longest time. You’re an extraordinary person Y/N. When I first met you, I didn’t really think much besides how gorgeous you are. When I got to know you, I began to realise you were different. How calm you are when you speak to patients or how passionate you are while working. At first, I thought I only liked you because you weren’t like the rest of the residents but then i was wrong. I liked you because I was developing very strong feelings for you. I realised this the day I made you sad. Seeing you makes me happy, hearing you laugh gives me a warm feeling. When I see you sad, I just want to give you a hug and tell you everything was going to be okay. Basically, I.. I really like you Y/N. So, so much.” he stopped. You could hear his shallow breaths. You hugged him, resting your head on his chest.

• He sighed, hands wrapped around your waist. You suddenly let go and began pacing, he watched you intently before you turned around “WAIT HOLD ON. SO, YOU HAVE FEELINGS FOR ME?” he nodded, confused as to why you were pacing around.

• “YOU’RE TELLING ME I COULD’VE BEEN WITH YOU EARLIER? DR NAKAMOTO YUTA I SWEAR TO GOD. I’VE HAD A CRUSH ON YOU FOR THE LONGEST TIME. I THOUGHT YOU HATED ME and oh my god I need to shut up.” As you noticed his amused expression.

• He laughed so hard that he was clutching onto his stomach. You both laughed until you realised the rain had stopped. The both of you walked back to the hospital, hand in hand. He looked down at your hand and grinned, seeing the bracelet he gave on your wrist.

• So, what was he like when you were together?

• Well, S W E E T.

• Writes you cute notes and leaves them on your laptop.

• “Ms Y/N, you’re leaving the stars jobless. You are glowing.” “Y’know how you were wondering on what to do on your free day, wanna go on a hike? I found a mountain with a beautiful view and I wanna share it with you my love.” “I can’t wait for our date later, aka our coffee break ♡” “Just wanted to remind you that I love you very much. And I’m hungry. Meet me at the cafeteria in an hour! ♡♡♡”

• Quick pecks right before a surgery. Coffee dates and walking around parks. He liked listening to you when you talked and when you were angry about something, he’ll comfort you and he’ll play with your hair. After you cooled down, he would advice you on your problem. When he was angry, all he wanted to do was to take a nap with you. It always calmed him down.

• You were each others support systems.

• You love Yuwin. *Yuta hugs Sicheng* “AHHH YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTEEE!” “I DON’T DESERVE YOU Y/N.” “gUYS!”

• Yuta was so public like HE MADE SURE EVERYONE KNEW YOU GUYS WERE DATING.

• The guys would TRY to tease him but he would always stare at them dead in the eye before they could even continue

• “So, how’s datin-” “Jungwoo.” “Uh I have to go pee.”

• But loves to tease you. Especially in front of the guys

• *stares at him* “So, are you going to kiss me or what?”

• *the guys stare at him with wide eyes* “Well goddamn Yuta.”

• Doesn’t matter though, you love him a lot and he loves you just as much.

Hello~ I don’t actually know how the medical world works, I only know the basics. I deeply apologise if there are mistakes.

Credits to owner of the photo.

#nct #nct imagines #nct yuta nakamoto #nct 127 #nct soft hours #nct scenarios #nct blurbs #nct drabbles #nct fluff #yuta imagines #yuta soft hours #yuta scenarios #yuta blurbs #yuta boyfriend #yuta drabbles #yuta fluff

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sharada-n · 4 years

Text

I got this request over a year ago I think, which is a testiment to how slow I am with these sometimes. Still, I had a lot of fun writing for a fandom I haven’t tried before, and this request was just too cool to pass up - even if i did butcher it and turn it into more angst than hijinx.

Not sure if you still follow me, Anon, or if you’ll ever see this. But thank you so much for the request!

(Read on AO3)

The Pale King was a busy bug.

Hallownest as a society functioned much like a machine with many intricate parts, each cog turning just as it should individually while still dependent on each other, but keeping them all running properly was not an effortless endeavor. No matter what the denizens of his city might think.

Maybe it was his own fault. He had rather enjoyed playing the part of the detached ruler, taking pride in projecting an image of ease with which he operated, some might have called it superiority, keeping to it in dignity even when the first signs of sickness started to plague his people. Panic posed a danger as much as any actual disease could and he refused to let it spread, determining what needed to be done with level-headed purpose.

Rarely did he stray outside of the palace and if that had granted him the image of a god among his people then so be it. It was something he would neither deny nor discourage. But the truth of the matter remained that there were indeed things that took exertion and ruling Hallownest was one of them. Between tending to the many facets of the kingdom there was precious little time for anything besides duty and if the citizens of Hallownest at large would never realize that, he didn't mind. He had only hoped that those few creatures with the honor to belong to his inner circle and witness his efforts would know better.

Apparently that had been too much to hope for.

"Do tell why you presume to bother me with such inane questions?" he asked, his back turned upon the one stubbornly blocking his doorway. Maybe if he ignored her long enough, Herrah would realize he was preoccupied and did not have the time for frivolous affairs today – or any day for that matter.

"Oh, my dear Wyrm," she drawled back, the words spoken with such fake affection he was more than certain she was just trying to vex him, "however did you come to the misunderstanding that this was a mere question? I was making a demand."

"I do recall you're quite good at those," he murmured, unsure if she had heard but finding he cared little either way. To be curt, it was her own ultimatum that had gotten them into this situation to begin with, so it was only fair she would bear the burden. He turned around and added louder: "You know your time with her is dwindling. Why would you want to squander the feeble amount you have left?"

Herrah waited a moment, the reminder of the concomitant of their deal probably unpleasant for her. She made a sound, low and prolonged. "As hard as it will be for you to imagine, I am a queen in my own right. Sometimes that means I have pressing responsibilities to uphold for my people."

"Why do you not just command one of them to look after the child, then?"

"Because..." And he could tell she took great pleasure in her next words, "the child is yours as well. Last I recall you were there when she was created." As if to emphasize this she pushed the thing towards him. It was small, with a cloak that got close to brushing the ground and which had the typical burgundy coloring that the Pale King had come to associate with Herrah's retainers.

The child looked at him, its expression somehow curious despite the likeness to his own children, who had deceivingly unreadable features by design. It titled its head sideways, falling back to remain closer at its mother's side. Seemingly it was as pleased about this new acquaintance as The Pale King himself was.

"What do you want me to do with it?"

"Her name is Hornet," Herrah answered, "and honestly it doesn't matter much as long as you keep her save and alive for the foreseeable future." She turned to leave, the child hesitating for a moment, as if to follow, but eventually being persuaded by practiced obedience to stay where she was.

She stood in the room silently, gaze fixed upon the Pale King as he resumed his work. He ignored her for the time being, bending over the ancient-looking tomes once more. There was a lot of lore on higher beings, most of it unfamiliar even to himself – as ironic as that was – and he had spent too much time already consulting them on anything that might pertain to the infection threatening his people, clearly divine in origin.

After a few moments, his thoughts were disturbed again, this time by the child, who had crept closer to the desk during his distraction. She leaned forward slightly, maybe trying to read the crumbly papers but there was a fundamental lack of understanding on her face. The Pale King closed the book, brushing away the small cloud of dust it blew up.

"Very well," he said, gesturing towards the door, "you are old enough to entertain yourself, I presume?"

"I'm nearly grown," she answered, taking him off guard. His own children did not speak – also by design – but it made sense for this one to not have such restrictions.

"Follow."

They walked along the winding passageways of the White Palace, barely acknowledging the few bugs they met on their way. Hornet stopped occasionally at the large windows, the view certainly very different from how Deepnest looked. The Pale King did not know if Herrah didn't take their child outside often or if she just had a latent curiosity for the world. Regardless, he supposed it would aid her in her future as queen and indulged it for now.

Eventually they came upon the room he was meaning to, opening the heavy door with some difficulty. The vessel stood at attention on their arrival, dark cloak wrapped around themselves securely, though just slightly shorter than Hornet's own. When the king entered, they bowed curtly. It proceeded to stay perfectly motionless and wait for further instructions, though their head inclined slightly towards the stranger now in their room.

"Hornet, this is your-" the Pale King considered his own words. Treading into unfamiliar territory was not his forte. "Your sibling, supposedly." That didn't sound too far of from the truth. "I do believe you two will be able to keep each other company in here."

Hornet looked up at him. "Where are you going?"

Suppressing an annoyed huff – not very becoming of a king, now was it? – he turned towards the door. "Back to more important matters, such as running a kingdom."

He was barely a few feet further or Hornet's hand seizing his cloak stopped him, though he pulled it out of her grasp quickly. "I don't want to stay in here," she said. How she had so quickly transformed from the silent child Herrah dropped at his chambers into this demanding little thing was beyond him.

"Well, what do you want then?"

Though the question was not meant to be answered seriously, Hornet seemed to consider it for a few moments, gaze flitting around the room. He had to admit it looked a bit modest, with far simpler decoration than the rest of the castle and not much in that way of furniture. The crib his queen has placed in the center of the room long replaced by a simple cot with no sheets. The vessel did not sleep – by design, once again.

The theory of its conception had left no need for toys and besides the training it underwent, both intellectual and in combat, supervised by the Pale King himself and his most favorable and skilled courtiers, it did not leave its room. There was no need to. All it was meant to know was the reason for its birth – the purpose it was created with and the duty it had to fulfill – and the skills necessary to accomplish that goal. It would not care for these formalities either way.

But Hornet was different, with a strong will of her own most likely inherited from that infernal mother of hers, and would not be placated by mere afterthoughts. She apparently had mused on his question long enough, for her small hands balled into tight fists and she spoke with conviction. "I want to see the rest of Hallownest. I want you to show me."

"Absolutely not."

Though her face remained impassive, the displeasure she felt at his answer was more than clear. "Why not?"

"Because the city is vast and much too fickle for us to go traipsing around it like fools," he answered, "my time to too precious to waste away on frivolous-"

The vessel had chosen this moment to politely step forward, giving another bow. But in their hands was clasped the purple-covered book The Pale King remembered giving them less than a fortnight ago. Their reading speed was incredulous – something he himself took pride in as one of its teachers – and they had most likely finished it already. Usually, they would wait to be called upon instead of taking initiative like this however.

"Very well, if it can't be helped," he relented, "The library and the sentinel will have to do, so we can abstain from doing the full tour."

He could tell Hornet was not completely satisfied, but such was the life of royalty. It would do the child some good to learn she could not always get what she wants. Her mother too...

How long could Herrah truly stay gone for after all?

The library of The White Palace was truly a marvel in architecture. Even when considering all of Hallownest, its ceiling-height windows and metal-gilded chandeliers alone were impressive enough in their own right to make regular homes pale in comparison.

There was a bustle of activity when they arrived. Scholarly bugs of various occupations eager to consult the vast collection of knowledge stored within these bookcases and artifacts. But as The Pale King made his way to the particular section he had intended to, one filled with texts on the history of his kingdom, many left the room with polite bows and muttered greetings, unable to meet his gaze. It wasn't proper conduct to stay in the room when the king entered.

Only Monomon remained, ever oblivious to the presence of anything or anybody when she was occupied with research. Her student, a young bug the Pale King had seen only in passing before, lingered at her side, carrying books to and fro at the teacher's request.

"Go pick out what you will," the Pale King told the vessel, who had already put the book they had brought back where it belonged. Their memory also was stronger than average. They trotted off to the back of the row of shelves, occasionally stopping to inspect the covers. Hornet hesitated for a second before following them. He could hear her talking to them softly, too quiet to make out what she was saying. They nodded at her in answer.

The Pale King sighed and inspected the pages Monomon was studying, marred in her own scribbled handwriting, and completely illegible for himself. She had ruined an increasing number of the books in his possession in this manner "One only hopes you do progress like this," he said.

Monomon looked up at him, maybe just noticing his arrival but unsurprised either way. She beckoned her pupil forward, taking the remaining book in his arms to lay it open in front of her and then sending him away again in search of something new. "Progress takes time."

"Time that is in short supply."

"We will compensate." The cloth around her form billowed slightly as she moved. "You brought the little one, I see. They are advancing as hoped?"

The Pale King waited, considering the idle meaning of the word hope in such a context. "More or less."

"Less?"

"They are everything we need it to be, surely. Anything beyond that is not of consideration."

Monomon nodded, using one appendage to adjust her mask. "But you might think yourself cruel still?"

All his retainers were carefully selected, their talent undeniable and their merits to Hallownest's progression even less so. Monomon was more knowledgable than most any bug in the known realm. Sometimes a bit too much so – and the Pale King is reminded yet again of her ability to surmise that which is not meant to be obvious.

"Everything we do, we do for this kingdom," he said, "not out of cruelty."

"These are not mutually exclusive, Your Majesty."

He waved his hand, a clear sign this particular thread of conversation was over with. There were many trials still ahead of them, bridges they would need to cross once they got there. But for the time being there were more pressing matters on his mind.

She seemed to take notice, as she closed the book in front of her – took the new one delivered by her pupil, who stepped back and waited patiently for further instructions on what to fetch next – and inclined her head. "And the other one too, I saw. Herrah's offspring?"

This wasn't a subject he wanted to discuss any more than the last one, but at least it left him with righteous indignation about his current circumstances. "She sprung it on me. How does one even take care of a child?"

It was a rhetorical question, he was not seeking Monomon's knowledge, especially since childrearing was probably not among her many areas of expertise. Still, she looked up once more, then behind him. "I do believe not leaving them to fall to their deaths might be a good start."

The Pale King turned around just in time to foresee the disaster waiting to happen. Hornet had climbed one of the ladders used to obtain books held on the higher shelves, balancing on one leg precariously while her small hands reached for her intended prize instead of holding on to anything solid. The vessel stood bellow, pointing to the particular book they had requested. Monomon's pupil was standing next to them, task forgotten and instead observing the spectacle with confusion.

A moment later Hornet was on top of them. It seemed at least the other two had broken her fall with their bodies, now squeezed underneath a flurry of cloak and flailing limbs. She had righted herself in an instant and with impressive agility, brushing herself off and looking away embarrassed. "Are you alright?" he heard the pupil ask as he made his way over.

"I'm fine." Hornet turned towards the vessel, holding out the book she had somehow managed to grab on her way down. "This is the one you needed, right?"

The vessel clasped it to their chest, standing a little straighter. They didn't express their gratefulness outwardly but seemed happy with the acquisition of new reading material. The book was almost too big for them to carry, with a dark green cover and golden lettering. The Pale King didn't think he had ever seen it before, but then again there were probably many objects in his collection he hadn't.

He sighed. "Are you done with your antics?"

"They're not antics," Hornet objected, "I'm being responsible. Mother says responsibility is an important virtue for a queen."

"I'm sure she does," the Pale King said, ushering the two out of the library. They greeted Monomon in passing, back to being completely absorbed in her work. Her pupil waved at them and the vessel waved back.

From this height the palace grounds appeared even more massive than they already were, the walls barely more than faint lines on the ground one could just as easily miss. Beyond them stretched mostly darkness, but the Pale King knew where the gaping pit of the abyss was located, as well as the passageways that would lead you to the City of Tears and the Stag station above them – the direction Herrah had surely taken.

Hornet had pressed herself against the glass, unafraid of heights as she had proven to be in the library. The few bugs moving around far below were nearly indistinguishable, but she seemed enthralled with the sight nonetheless. The view was unique to the palace after all, and not something you'd encounter anywhere else in Hallownest, let alone Deepnest.

The vessel stood motionless. The Pale King could not recall how often he had taken them here, sometimes for lessons and sometimes merely for a change of scenery. He was not one to be emotional – or ascribe meaning where it shouldn't be – but perhaps part of him considered it only fair they got to see the world they were destined to sacrifice their being for, or at least the bit that remained them.

Even now large parts of Hallownest were rendered abandoned by the infection, with many bugs already giving in to its thralls. Dying out quicker than any of them had anticipated.

"It's beautiful," Hornet said, softly, like the unknowing child she was. Some stray droplets of water slid down the window, residue from the city above.

"It is only a small part of many," he answered, "but together they form one whole that is worth protecting."

Hornet looked at him, tilted her head up all dignified and it reminded him of her mother in more ways than one. "That's what a ruler does, right? Protect others, whatever it takes?"

At that moment the Pale King wondered what Herrah told her daughter. He wondered what she had left unsaid.

"Whatever it takes," he agrees, looking at the vessel, mute and waiting, the book still held tightly against the front of their cloak, watching the dying world below.

They stood there for a while longer, before he finally pulled the curious Hornet from the window again. "There is still more of the palace to see," he told her, noticing the vessel perk up at his words. She could also hardly suppress the surprise in her next words.

"I thought you did not have time."

"A king can make time," he said, leading the way back to the staircase in swift strides, "didn't your mother tell you this also? Perhaps not since she seems to be running late herself. But as it were, I'll take it on myself to make sure you don't get in trouble until then."

Hornet sputtered, quick to defend the honor of both her mother and herself as they made their way down, the vessel following obediently in their wake.

#hollow knight #The Pale King #the hollow knight #hk hornet #Idk what the tags are aaa #my writing #just read it on AO3 honestly it reads way better there

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shooter-nobunagun · 4 years

Text

Quarantine UST 3

//Look, I’m on a roll, and I plan to ride it as long as I can.

Warning: some ‘ero’ content this chapter, (wet dreams and masturbation)... ^^;;; teenage hormones, man XD;

“Oh my god Asao-san, I just don’t know if I can keep this up for a month! It hasn’t even been a week and I’m starting to go a little nuts...and I’m the very definition of an introvert,” The sniper vented, chatting with her best friend Kaoru Asao as part of her now-established bedtime ritual. “I seriously can’t believe there’s like, three more weeks to go...ugh.”

“Oh Sio-chan, I think you’ll be all right. Given the circumstances, it’s perfectly fine to be getting a bit of cabin fever. Have you gone out at all?”

“Well, no...I mean, I just spend some time in the yard or go for a quick walk around the block, but since everyone’s all ‘don’t go out unless you need to’, it’s not like we’ve been making any supply runs since the first one,” the sniper grumbled. The vehicle Adam requisitioned from the Yavin had arrived just yesterday in the form of an all-wheel-drive, manual transmission sedan, but since most places were closed anyway, Sio didn’t foresee them going on any joyrides anytime soon. “Newton and Gandhi were saying it would be nice to just go for a drive, but I don’t know. Jack’s always so strict...can you believe he still keeps tabs on me daily to make sure I’ve done my training?”

Her friend laughed lightly on the other end. “Isn’t that his job though? You said Jack-san is your team leader, right? Besides, would you really be keeping up with your training if he didn’t remind you?”

“...”

“...Well, there’s your answer.” Sio groaned and buried herself in the pillow. “But I hope you’ve been remembering to take care of yourself too, Sio-chan. I mean, you said you’ve basically got free time after you do your training, right?”

“Sure I guess, but it’s...I dunno, Asao-san. I’m not used to constantly being around other people like, 24/7. Even back in the Logan, I feel like I had more privacy...but when you’re in a house, well...” She thought back to this morning, whereupon Newton had stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a thin t-shirt and purple thong, Sio narrowly avoiding another nosebleed as she rushed to the toilet before Newton could try and ‘greet’ her. “It’s a bit...weird to see all your teammates when they’re so, well...casual.”

“Hmm; does it make you uncomfortable? Maybe you can ask them to respect your privacy or be more considerate around you.”

“Hah, that’ll be the day,” Sio rolled her eyes. “Newton and Gandhi...let’s just say their definition of consideration is way different than mine. If anything, the only person I actually don’t have to worry about is Jack...though I’ve got other issues with him...”

“I see...” Her friend mused on the other line. “Still, don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but have you actually told them that? Do they know their actions bother you? Or are you just doing the whole ‘polite Japanese’ thing and shrugging it off?”

“I mean, well—I want to, but—”

“‘But...?’ You know Sio-chan, I’m not saying what they’re doing is okay, but at the same time, you also need to stick up for yourself,” Asao gently chided, Sio whining because she knew her friend was right. “I know you don’t like talking to people, but everybody’s gotta start somewhere, right? It seems like they just don’t realize it, but I’m sure if you actually told them how you feel, they might back off. And if not, well, at least you can escalate that to someone in charge.”

“Haaaaaahh...I know, you’re right; I’ll try...but they’re so intimidating at times, the way they’re so...forward,” the sniper flopped backwards onto the pillows. “Ironically, Jack’s the only person I’ve been able to actually talk back to...”

At this revelation her friend made an interesting noise. “Oh? You told Jack-san how you felt? Even though your last three messages to me were about how strict and scary he is?”

“I-I mean, it’s not like I plan my conversations with him, it’s just sometimes he gets so annoying I just react automatically—”

“—Well, what did he say?”

“He—” The sniper caught herself as she recalled their conversations from earlier in the week. “...He, actually apologized, now that I think about it...when he lost his temper from helping me to the laundry, he...he admitted he shouldn’t have been so harsh, that he was just tired...” And then the next day he helped her with the ironing, and giving her lunch...

“Ooh?” Asao’s voice took on a high note. “Really now...I guess you really can’t judge a book by its cover, can you? Well that’s good, it means things do change when you actually speak up about them.”

“Well sure, but I’ve still got a long way to go.”

“Why don’t you ask Jack-san for backup? He’s the leader, right? I’m sure his words carry some weight.”

“I, well...I could, but...he’s already helped me out a lot. I’d feel bad if I constantly went to him with my troubles...” Sio hugged her knees to her chest. “I mean if I really had to, sure...but I wanna try and handle this on my own, first. Besides, it’d probably be more effective if it came from me.”

“‘Atta girl, Sio. I know you can do it.” Asao cheered from the other end. “But it’s getting pretty late on your end, isn’t it? You should get some sleep, even if you’re not going anywhere. A routine sleeping schedule will help you feel better.”

Sio glanced at the clock, which was about to strike midnight. “Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, thanks a bunch, Asao-san. If there’s one thing I’m grateful for about all this, it’s that I can finally chat with you whenever I want.”

Her friend laughed. “Of course, Sio-chan. I’m really happy about that, too. Take care! And feel free to text me whenever! Oyasumi.”

“Oyasumi.” Yawning, Sio set her phone on the nightstand, stretching like a cat before crawling underneath the fluffy duvet. “I’m so glad Asao-san’s my friend...I don’t know what I’d do without her...” Turning off the lights, she laid her head down and was asleep within minutes. ------ “Nnng...hnn, uhn...”

It was hot, but it felt good. Her legs ached, but again, she couldn’t seem to stop. Her body turned over and her hips moved on their own, grinding clumsily against a lump of blankets.

“Unn...hmm...hmmm...!! Nnng...!!”

It felt so good; a heat bubbling up from her groin, tickling her senses in a way she’d never felt before. Yet it never seemed to be enough—no matter how much she pushed her hips she couldn’t get enough, because it just felt too good—

“Ahn...ah, ah...nng...y, yes...” Her breathing grew strained as her body grew desperate. To reach that peak, that...whatever it was. Her limbs were quivering as she rolled over again, this time one of the extra pillows wedging itself perfectly between her thighs. “Oh, yes...ah, right ther...kimochi ii...iii...!”

Almost there! So close!

A tingle of electricity went up her spine as the edge of the pillow rubbed right against that sweet spot between her legs and Sio’s eyes shot open, gasping for breath as she woke up right on the verge of ecstasy. “Wha—what the, what’s...huh...?” For some reason she was breathing as though she’d run a marathon, and her clothes were all sweaty...

‘Oh no, do I have a fever? Is it the virus?!’ In a panic she slid out of bed, ignoring the strange throbbing between her legs as she fumbled for a thermometer. “37.7 degrees Celsius...whew, normal.” Sighing with relief, she slowly crawled back to bed, now finally noticing the strange tightness down there, throbbing in time with her pulse. “Nnn...what the heck, why do I feel so...weird? My body’s all...hot and tingly, b-but I don’t have a fever...”

The sniper could only recall vague remnants of some dream she’d been having moments earlier, but like most dreams, it vanished the second she woke up. Bits and pieces remained however, Sio closing her eyes as she tried to remember what was making her so hot and bothered.

‘It was...I was...really hot? Something...no, I think it was someone touching me...but, it wasn’t scary at all; it felt...gentle, and really good...’

Before she knew it, one of her hands slipped down between her thighs, Sio unconsciously now trying to replicate what she’d experienced in the dream with her own hands. A finger gingerly rubbed a slight bump on the outside of her underwear and she shivered, a shock of pleasure running through her body.

‘Yes, it felt, like this...it felt, so good...’

“Hnn...it’s, just like my dream...” She mumbled, mind falling back into that hazy pleasure halfway between dreams and reality, as Sio started touching herself in earnest. The sniper wasn’t even aware of what she was doing, only a vague knowledge of something she’d read in health books came floating up—but that was quickly shoved aside as her fingers became a little more confident, rubbing a little harder now and the pleasure started climbing.

“Ah...ah, nng...it feels really good...h-how, what is...” She was panting slightly, not even realizing her other hand had snaked underneath her shirt and was gently stroking her breast.

‘W-Wait a minute...what am I...am I, touching myself...?’ Suddenly she was conscious of where her hands were, just what she was doing; a finger still rubbing between her legs—only now there was a slight dampness seeping onto the fabric.

Sio blushed, finally realizing that this was what masturbation was—but at the same time it felt too good for her to stop. ‘W-Whoa...is this what...masturbating feels like? It’s...kinda embarrassing to admit, but it does feel really good...’ Sighing, she decided to just continue and see what happened. Besides, at least she had her own room here, and nobody shared a wall.

“Mnn...it’s, not enough...I want to feel, more...” Biting her lips, the sniper slowly shed her damp panties, heart pounding in nervous excitement as it occurred to her she was going to pleasure her most private place, with her own two hands. ‘Somehow, doing something kinda...naughty like this...I’m getting excited...’ Gulping, she gently reached a finger down, only to pull away in shock as she felt something moist and slippery. “Wha—uh, why’s it all wet down here?” She reached finger down again, and this time pushed a little deeper, her stomach clenching as her fingers started exploring the region.

“Whoa...I’m getting really wet...I can’t believe that really happens,” she mumbled, rather enjoying the slipperiness across her fingertips. Between the hot, slick folds, untangling her dark curls—she squealed as her fingertips finally brushed against that most sensitive spot, now hard and engorged from stimulation.

“Ahn...! W-what is this...why’s it feel so much better...compared to, anywhere else...” Moaning very slightly, Sio started fondling her clit, using two fingers to rub circles around it as the other hand now massaged her breasts. “Oooh...god, this feels amazing...”

Slowly but surely, that same, slow-burn tension from her dream was now building up in real life. The sniper was using both her hands at this point, one to massage her sensitive clit while the other poked around her folds, coating everything with her juices that were now dripping down her thighs.

“Ah, ah, ah...oh god, it’s happening...th-that, same feeling...from my dream...!” Her body was hot all over, limbs starting to twitch as this new tension built up somewhere deep inside her. Her hands were more forceful now, rubbing tight circles around her clit, back arching every so often as she tried to reach that goal again, before she woke up. Her legs were spread underneath the covers, hips undulating as she tried to push herself to the peak.

‘I-It’s, so close...I-I’m so close, why can’t I...’ Moaning in frustration and arousal, she took a break, panting for air as she gently ran her fingers all over her smooth, soft skin. ‘In my dream, I think there was someone else...who was doing this to me...and it felt so good...’

She didn’t remember much, but she knew whoever it was had much larger hands than her; they were calloused but firm, gentle as they fondled her breasts, then her opening, teasing her with that same, steady pressure until she was sure she could bear it no more.

“Ahn...ah...ah...ah, ah, ah—oh god...!” While she fantasized about her mystery dream lover, her fingers punished her clit with a desperate fervor; Sio felt her legs twitching, hips bucking with the same rhythm as her fingers while her body pushed itself towards an orgasm.

‘It’s so good...I-I think I’m coming...I’m, gonna, cum—!’ For some reason right at the precipice, Adam’s alabaster-white torso flashed in her mind, with those toned muscles... With a startled cry she climaxed as the heat crashed over, a searing pleasure overwhelming all her senses at once. Clenching her teeth, she pushed a finger against her throbbing clit, rubbing it every so often and shaking from the aftershocks until everything subsided at last, Sio letting out a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding.

“Hah, hah...ooohh, that felt...incredible.” Heaving, she fumbled for a tissue and wiped up the mess that had formed between her legs, as well as any residue from her fingers. “Man, who knew you could make yourself feel so good, with your own hands...is that why people do this...”

At last she snuggled down underneath the covers, now very satisfied and quite exhausted (no wonder people did this in bed; it made you so sleepy!) Before she fully conked out again though, the image of Adam’s body floated up again, Sio blushing with realization.

‘Wh-What the hell...why am I think about him now, i-it’s not like I want to see him naked or to, to...do that...to me...ugh, must be because I was chatting about him with Asao-san, that’s why...’

She pulled the covers up resolutely and forced herself to go to sleep, trying desperately to ignore the burning in her cheeks. ---- “Good morning love! Goodness, did you sleep too late again? Those bags under your eyes will become permanent at this rate,” the blonde tsked as the sniper rubbed her eyes and let out a huge yawn.

“A-Ah, uh, B-Beckham-san, you—”

“I thought I told you, call me ‘Jess’—”

“Right, Jess-san, er...”

“—Another late night gossiping with your friend?”

“Ah, Gandhi-san—”

“Oy, what’s with the chatter?!” All three stopped talking as their leader walked into the kitchen, hair still tousled. “And for the love god, could you two put on some damn clothes?!” He glared at the two, one of whom was walking around in knickers and the other who was completely shirtless, much to Sio’s chagrin. “This ain’t a uni dorm...”

“Such a prude, Adam...you really need to get laid, love.” The blonde teased much to their leader’s chagrin but went to change, as did Mahesh, Adam blushing and grumbling all the while about how it’d been barely a week and already they were devolving into a couple of degenerates.

“O, Ohayou, Jack-san...” The sniper steeled herself now that it was just the two of them, doing her best to not look at anywhere even remotely close to his body; the events of last night were still fresh in her mind, and she certainly hadn’t forgotten the weird tingles she felt every time she even thought about him.

‘Just play it cool, Sio, it’s not like that meant anything; it just means you’re attracted to a muscular body, that’s all, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s him...’

“Hn? Oh, mornin’ squirt...” The silver-haired man gave a slight glance her way, before opening the fridge and grabbing out breakfast items. “You eat already?”

“Not yet...I-I mean, I was just gonna eat some toast and jam—”

“—want eggs with that?”

The sniper’s head shot up. “E-Eggs? Ye—I mean uh, I...um, if it’s not too much trouble...”

“‘S fine, since I’m already making some for myself.” With a practiced hand he cracked two eggs simultaneously, Sio watching in amazement as he skillfully flipped them. “So, how d’you like your eggs?”

“Uh, sunny-side up, please! But a little less runny.” Her eyes continued to stare, however, Adam smirking a bit as she let out a small noise of wonder.

“What’re you so excited about? They’re just eggs.”

“Ah! It’s just, I’m impressed, Jack-san...you really do know your stuff. Like, you cracked those with only one hand, just like they do on TV!”

Her enthusiasm was infectious; it took all his willpower to not just smile back at her, though that didn’t stop his heart from thumping loudly in his chest. Seriously, what was going on? He couldn’t possibly...well, like her, could he?

‘Like’ has many connotations...it doesn’t have to mean romance...

“Well, practice makes perfect, squirt. You could give it a try if you want,” he cast her a glance, but the girl only laughed nervously.

“Maybe some other time...trust me, you don’t wanna know how I did in my home ec classes...”

A few minutes later there were two plates stacked with eggs, toast, jam, and (in Adam’s case) a couple rashers of bacon and small ramekin of baked beans.

“Uwaa!! This looks so delicious! Ittadakimasu!” The smell of a perfectly fried egg on top of crisp, buttery toast... Sio let out a hum as she happily munched her breakfast, the weird libido-lust thing all but forgotten. “Now I know for sure, you’re really good at cooking, Adam. Did your mom teach you?”

At that comment Adam paused mid-bite, but the sniper didn’t notice. “...You could say that. She taught me the basics, and I...just practiced a lot on my own.”

“Oh? So is like, cooking one of your hobbies, then?”

“...Not particularly. I don’t mind it, but I became good at it out of necessity, more than anything else...” Suddenly his voice became melancholy, and the sniper wondered if she said the wrong thing, again.

“...Oh. I-I’m sorry, I uh...didn’t mean to...pry...” She awkwardly took a sip of her tea; the silence was deafening, but she couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Eh; it’s fine. I don’t talk about it, because...what’s the point,” Adam sighed, scraping up the remaining beans and spooning it onto his toast. “I mean, when you’ve only got your mum lookin’ after you an’ no other family...you grow up pretty quick.”

“Ah, Jack-san...” Before she could say anything else however, the other two members finally returned, thankfully dressed this time. As Jess and Mahesh set about getting their own breakfast, she quickly excused herself to go help Adam with the dishes.

“Here, why don’t you let me load them? I can do it now, thanks to you...”

He gave her a curious look, Sio unsure of how to decipher that expression, but the next thing she knew he nodded in thanks and left her at the sink.

I wonder...if something happened to him in the past. Though Adam didn’t anything else after that, just from that one sentence Sio knew now that Adam grew up with a single parent, and no other siblings—or other close relatives, even. Perhaps that was why he was such a loner; it was always harder to open up to others when you spent so much time relying on yourself.

“Need some help, Sio-chan?” She looked up and Mahesh and Jess were carrying their plates to the sink. “Thanks for cleaning up, by the way; believe me when I say we appreciate it!”

“Oh, it’s no big deal...I mean, we’re gonna be here for a while, so might as well help out.”

“You are just too sweet!” The blonde practically crushed Sio into her generous bosom, and the sniper instantly stiffened. "You deserve a reward—”

Those lips. That tongue. Almost mesmerized, Sio just stared as Jess drew closer, but then...

“—Oh!”

Sio blinked, not quite sure what just happened. It was as if her body reacted on instinct, her arms pushing Jess away just before they could make contact, and now both she and Mahesh were staring at her with bewildered looks.

‘Oh boy, I’ve done it now...still, here goes nothing...!’

“Look, Jess-san. I...I get that’s how you show affection—a-and maybe you Europeans are more used to it, but...I don’t like it. It...really makes me uncomfortable when you just...get so close to me, all of a sudden...s, so, s-so...” Her arms were shaking with fear, but the need to say what she really felt was even stronger. Asao was right; she couldn’t stay silent forever and hope that one day people would be able to magically read her mind. She needed to take the initiative, no matter how awkward it made things.

“So...please, don’t...do that to me. Please...” Her voice wavered and the sniper could feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes, but she couldn’t back down now. “Please...don’t just, suddenly grab or, touch me like that...I don’t like it at all. And same goes for you, Gandhi-san; I don’t like guys who are so aggressive like that.”

And before either of the two could say another word the sniper fled up the stairs into her room, her courage finally depleted. ------ “Cooking as a hobby, ‘ey? Heh, why not, squirt...” Lo-fi hip-hop was streaming through the headphones, Adam absently checking his email (for once) while relaxing to some music. It’d been nearly a week since Command dropped the bombshell on them, yet the platoon had adopted to its civilian lifestyle with almost shocking speed. Sure, he still had to make sure everybody was keeping up with their training, and once a day he personally checked in with either Saint-Germain or the Commander herself, but other than that it was surprisingly...chill.

Well, aside from random incidents such as seeing Jess waltz around in black lace knickers, and Mahesh’s annoying habit of not putting on a shirt unless he had to. And oh yeah, that first night where Sio blindly walked in on him just as he’d gotten out of the shower.

The squirt... Sio Ogura. His fingers stopped typing as the petite girl crossed his mind. She was different. Unique. At first, it was easy for him to dismiss her as just another newbie who was in way over her head, but she’d proven to be surprisingly capable in their last few missions.

‘An’ now she wants to learn how to keep house...how cute.’ Adam snorted lightly to himself, but it was rather adorable watching the girl stumble her way through learning how to use the washing machine, and loading a dishwasher. He had to admit, the girl was stubborn and intuitive; even if it felt like she was missing a screw or two in the common sense department.

Maybe she wasn’t as much of a squirt as he initially pinned her to be. ‘I probably shouldn’t keep callin’ her hanninmae...but what else should I call her? Sio?’ He frowned; that was a little too personal, and if he remembered correctly, Japanese people generally didn’t appreciate strangers calling them by their first names.

That had to be earned.

“Like a certain someone, ‘ey?” He muttered to himself. Adam didn’t miss the fact that he was the only holder whom she addressed by his e-gene name, instead of his real name. Truth be told, it pissed him off that Jess and Mahesh just casually used ‘Adam’ whenever they wanted, but it was too much trouble to bother correcting them. Besides, whenever he did, it usually went in one ear and out the next.

He sighed and shut the laptop. ��Might as well go check in on them...” Stretching, he shuffled to the sniper’s door, and was just about to knock when heard a sniffle. “Huh.” He leaned closer and put his ear to the door.

She’s crying. Startled, and without even thinking Adam opened the door, the sniper whirling around in bewilderment at his sudden intrusion.

“Oy, what’s going on? Are you all right?”

“E-Eh?! J-Jack-san??” The sniper hurriedly wiped her eyes, but it wasn’t enough to get rid of the the tear tracks on her cheeks.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“U-Uh, um...I—wait, wh-why are you in my room?”

“Uh...” Shit. Good question. Adam wanted to say that he heard her crying and was concerned, but she might take it the wrong way. ‘Actually. she definitely would take it the wrong way.’

“I, I uh, just wanted to check if you finished your training yet, but I heard you crying—I-I thought you hurt yourself or something—I—” He fumbled wordlessly for something, but even his Jack the Ripper couldn’t think of an excuse for this situation. “A-Anyway, sorry about...barging in like that. Guess we’re tit-for-tat, eh?”

“O-Oh...I, it’s...you don’t need to worry about it, Jack-san. I-It’s—I can handle it myself...I’m, fine...”

Adam raised an eyebrow, gently making his way to the side of the bed. “You sure about that, squirt?”

“I-I, uh...” The sniper stuttered and looked away.

“Hey, look; I, uh, know I’m probably not the most approachable guy, but I’m also your squad leader. And that means if there’s something botherin’ you, I’m more than willing to listen.” Adam slowly rounded the corner, sitting the built-in reading bench by the window. “An’ I’m not just sayin’ this ‘cause I’m the leader. If you wanna talk about it...I’m all ears.”

The sniper hiccuped a bit more, grabbing a tissue and hugging her knees to her chest, but still didn’t face him. Adam waited patiently until the tears seemed to have stopped.

“W, Well...it’s, m-more like, i-it has to do with, the other two...N-Newton-san and Gandhi-san. U-Uh, y-you know how both of them are alway so, so...touchy-feely,” Adam made a low rumbling noise at this, “s-so, earlier I, b-basically told them I didn’t...appreciate that, a-and, and...” the sniper squeezed herself into a tighter ball, if possible. “I, pushed Newton away...b-but, I didn’t mean it like that, I wasn’t trying to hurt her or say that I hated her, but I just didn’t want to be that close, and—”

“—You didn’t do anything wrong.” Adam’s low tenor cut through her anxiety-babble. “That’s on them, for not respecting your personal space...” Oddly enough, he felt as angry as he’d ever been—even moreso than his usual irritation at their tiresome antics. If it was just him, then fine; he could brush it off, but the fact that not only was Sio been so bothered by it, but she felt guilty about telling them off...

“I, I know that...b-but still, I...don’t want them to think I, hate them or anything like that...” The girl finally lifted her head, eyes now red and puffy from crying. “I, still think they’re good people...I just, don’t want them to keep getting so close to me like that...” Before she could go into another round of waterworks Adam was handing her a tissue, which she gratefully accepted.

“Honestly, it’s about time we addressed these issues. Especially if we’re gonna be living together for the next few weeks, I can’t let this keep happening. Hell, you’ve got more balls than me; you actually said something, where as I...just shrugged it off.”

At this the sniper looked up in surprise. “R, Really? Y-You, never told them you...don’t like it, either?”

Adam barked out a laugh. “Heh...surprising, isn’t it? Yeh, I’m surprised myself, honestly...can’t say exactly why I never did, except I figured it probably wasn’t a good idea t’ get all wound up with someone whom was going to be working with indefinitely. I don’t know...” he leaned back into the cushions, eyes closing in some lost memory. “Perhaps it’s because I figured, if I could put up with it, then maybe it’s better to do that, instead of protesting...” Adam shook his head. “Who knows. I guess to be honest, deep down, I’m someone who’d rather not rock the boat, you know what I mean?”

Whoa. He was much different than her initial impressions, for sure. Sio never would have guessed that Jack the Ripper—no, Adam Muirhead, was actually much more reserved than she thought. Not to mention the fact that, just like her, he preferred to stay quiet and bear the burden, instead of speaking out.

“Mn...I, definitely get that.” Before she knew it Sio quirked a small smile. “Heh, wow, I...I didn’t know we had similar thoughts...”

Adam returned the smile, and to her dismay the sniper felt her cheeks blushing. “The things you find out when we’re not in battle, right? Anyway, don’t beat yourself up. It’s high time we cleared this up; I’m gonna call a meeting tonight. Don’t worry about feeling awkward; I’ll handle it, and if they make a fuss—well, let’s just say I’m not above using my authority to make sure they stay in line...”

Sio nodded, though she sincerely hoped it was just a matter of misunderstanding and ignorance. The last thing she wanted was to strain the relationships between them, and who knew how that would affect their performance in battle.

“Also, squir—I mean, Ogura,” her ears perked at the sound of her real name, “er, it is all right to call you, that, yeh?”

Her heart started drumming in her chest and that strange warmth was flooding her body again. “O-Oh, of course! Th, thanks, Jack-san...”

“Cool. Anyway, I’m sorry you had to go through such a beastly thing, but...I’m grateful you told me about it. You really are something else, aren’t you?”

“Ah...” Those wide maroons stared at his back, Sio now shyly clutching her pillow. “Th-Thank you, Jack-san...not just for doing something about this, but...thank you for listening to me. I really appreciate it...”

Adam felt his face grow warm. “...You’re welcome. Oh, and uh, one more thing,” he paused at the doorway, “my name is Adam. My real name is Adam Muirhead.”

“Then...thank you, Adam-san.”

#documentation #//heuuurrurur #//wow #//haven't been on a roll in so long #//its GOOD

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braveskyered · 5 years

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Knights (Part 2)

Part 1

Part 2: This Time I Might Just Disappear

Three Years Ago...

...

Here he is, riding a bus away from Tempo, Texas to... somewhere in the East. Arthur didn't bother planning that far ahead. All he has is a backpack full of various items and savings beside him, and a small travel cage containing Galahad in his lap.

He isn't exactly running away, he thinks. He already told Lance that he just needed some time alone and left, saying that he would call once he arrived at his destination. His uncle did try to stop him at first, but relented when Arthur tearfully begged him to just let him be alone for a while. He just needed some time to himself. Lance was still skeptical, but gave Arthur a hug, something he isn't known to do very often, telling him to rest and call him if he ever needed to.

Arthur couldn't bring himself to.

When he arrived at his so-called destination, after switching from one bus to another for the next two days, Arthur eventually arrived at a relatively large city called Cantabile in the state of Tennessee. A modest location, since the place had signs that boasted about the place being known for their musicians, chefs, and doctors. The weather is rather cool and overcast, so it didn't look too bad a place to stop. In reality, Arthur considered this place his destination after he got sick of riding on the bus for so long. That, and he needed to get some fresh shavings for Galahad's cage and food for the two of them.

Fortunately, the downtown area has little kiosks where tourists can get their hands on a free map, so finding a pet store that happened to be nearby is pretty convenient. He found the food, and then the shavings he needed for Galahad, and quickly changed them out with the help of a kind employee. With that done, he started to look around for a cheap motel he could stay at for the time being since the sun will start to set soon. He didn't dare check his phone for a suitable place, since he removed the sim card to prevent anyone from trying to track his location. Granted, he could still use it minus being able to call or send texts, but unless he has an internet connection, he wouldn't be able to use some of the more important apps. As far as Arthur is concerned, he's as homeless one could get unless he went back to Tempo, but he didn't want to return home. Not yet.

...Would be be able to start anew here or somewhere else outside Tempo? The Mystery Skulls clearly didn't want him anymore, and after the falling out with Lewis and Vivi, Arthur couldn't feel bothered to even try to mend things since everything was his fault it happened. Part of him felt bad about leaving Lance behind, but if he hadn't left Tempo, then Arthur might not be able to live with himself. Too many bad memories and guilt among other things that he just needed to get away from for a while.

He kept walking, his backpack secure with Galahad's cage in his arms. He kept his arms covered up with a thick orange jacket and black gloves to keep prying eyes from staring at the prosthetic that made up his left arm, and the injuries that covered his right arm, chest, and back. He looked around every now and then to keep a watch out for potential muggers with a cold sweat. If his backpack gets lost, then it'll be all over for him. Some thunder rang out in the air, and Arthur looked up to see that the clouds from earlier had turned darker and some rain is beginning to form. Cursing to himself, Arthur started to move a little faster, careful not to shake Galahad too much, and looked around in hopes of finding some form of shelter. Arthur then heard the sound of metal clanking together and drills being used, looking to his left, he blinked.

“Four of a Kind Queens Auto Repair and Parts,” Arthur quietly read. Rather interesting name for a repair shop. The place itself looked fairly well off, and with four garages full of cars that are currently being maintained, and a fifth one with its door closed. Must be a well known business if it's this busy for them. The rain started to get heavier, startling Arthur enough to run over to the shop's entrance and went inside, hearing a little bell chime. It wouldn't do either of them good if Galahad's cage got wet.

The place itself looked cozy for a mechanic's standards. The heat is on, which gave Arthur some much needed warmth. It even smelled like a typical mechanic's workplace, which did provide even more much needed comfort, even though he wouldn't be able to tinker with anything until he found a workplace himself.

“Hello, there! Welcome to Four of a Kind Queens!”

Arthur looked up and saw a somewhat elderly woman with snowy white hair tied into a braid, a stout yet fit figure while wearing an apron stained with oil looking at him from the reception desk.

“What brings you here today?” she asked, “An oil change? A problem with your car?”

“Ah, no...” he let out a breath he didn't know he had, “I just needed to get away from the rain.”

The old woman didn't respond at first, looking over him and his hamster with slightly narrowed eyes, a brow raised in thought. For a moment, Arthur thought she was going to ask him to leave until she straightened up to look at the window, “Ah. Yeah, the weather's been getting rather dreadful these past few days. A shame, really. That little sunshine we had earlier today was good while it lasted,” the old woman sighed, acting as if her studying him never happened, “Well, feel free to hang out until it lets up. There's a vending machine over there if you want snacks, and a water fountain if you need a drink.”

Arthur thanked the woman before settling down on one of the many chairs that were lined up against a wall with a long window showing the store's exterior. Placing his backpack beneath the chair he's sitting on for added security, he placed Galahad's cage down on the floor by his feet. He opened the cage door and scooped up the hamster with his left hand, then held him against his chest, giving him the affection Galahad missed out on. Galahad is thrilled, and quickly snuggled into the warmth. Arthur looked out the window and saw the rain pour down heavily as cars drove by.

Was it really a good idea to leave? Arthur isn't really sure, the only thing he had in his mind is that he just had to leave. Stay away from Vivi. Stay away from Lewis. Stay away from Mystery. Stay away from Tempo. It wasn't as if he had a destination in mind.

Maybe he really is running away, but in the end, it's what they wanted.

“Wait, what?” she turned.

He didn't remember exactly how the conversation played out, but eventually it exploded into a one-sided argument.

“If you're not happy here, then just leave!” he bellowed.

Better not think about it, then. Vivi and Lewis are better off without him.

Rubbing a finger against the sleeping Galahad's head, Arthur listened to the sounds of metal clinking, parts being added and removed, the saws buzzing... the shop is pretty busy. He wondered if anyone here could use a hand before scoffing to himself. Yeah, right, like they'd let a complete stranger like me tinker around their shop. He rolled his eyes in annoyance at the mere thought. He has to think things through, since sooner or later, he'll have to find a motel to stay in. Maybe that old lady from earlier could suggest one?

He closed his eyes to think.

…

Purple flames. The anger. The despair. The HATE!

Fuck, it's you I hate the most!

…!

Arthur jumped awake with a cold sweat, thankful that he learned how to wake up without screaming long ago. When did he fall asleep? How long was he...? He looked down to check on Galahad, and saw that someone had put a blanket over him. Checking the cage, he saw that someone had also put Galahad back inside, the hamster happily munching on a piece of celery. He then looked at his backpack behind his feet under the chair and saw that it was left untouched. He rubbed his head to get rid of the brief drowsiness, then went to check on Galahad.

Unfortunately, the hamster has other plans. As soon as Arthur opened the cage door, Galahad dashed out and ran across the floor to the direction that leads to the garage holding the cars.

“Galaham, no!” Arthur got up to chase the hamster, “You can't go in there!” The hamster ignored him and went in, and while Arthur wouldn't have tried entering an employees only area, which is oddly quiet, he had to get the hamster out. Keeping an eye out for any potential hazards, Arthur went in to look for Galahad, and spotted the rodent running beneath a large blue van, the first among a line of cars side by side, where a mechanic was doing some work under it. Arthur watched with dread as the mechanic beneath the car yelped, their legs jumping in surprise. He heard the clatter of a tool being put down, and the person wheeled out from underneath, holding the hamster in their hand, revealing the mechanic to be a young woman.

“You little rascal,” she shook her head in annoyed amusement as she poked at the hamster's cheeks with her fingers, “What, that celery wasn't enough for you?”

“I-I'm so sorry!” the apologies started pouring out as Arthur came forward, catching the mechanic's attention, “I was trying to check on him and he ran off! I didn't mean to come in here, I just--!"

“Oh, you're the guy that was out in the waiting area,” the mechanic cut him off with a look of realization, holding out Galahad for him to take, “How are you feeling? I would've woken you after the rain stopped about half an hour ago, but Nana Niniane insisted that we let you sleep a little longer. She said you looked like you needed it.”

Arthur is thrown off by that. They just let a complete stranger sleep in their shop? What?

“Sir? Are you all right?”

He jumped, thoughts scrambling in his mind as he took Galahad back with a mumbled thanks. Thinking quick, he asked her, “H-how long was I asleep?”

“Eh...” she took out her smartphone from her breast pocket and looked at the screen, “I'd say maybe an hour and a half? Did you need to be somewhere?”

“N-No...”

Arthur trailed off, not sure at where to proceed with the conversation, instead taking the time to actually take note of the woman's appearance. She looked a head shorter than him, somewhat thin with black coveralls with a white trim on, and has long black hair with one lone white streak tied to a single braid that reached her hips. The only thing that stood out from her face, which has some oil stains, is her pale blue eyes which, along with her pale skin, contrasted sharply from her hair. In other words, really pretty for a mechanic. He shook the thought from his head and looked at the van, knowing that he didn't have the right to be admiring one's appearance.

“W-what kind of maintenance are you doing with this?”

“Oh, this?” she tapped at the vehicle she was working on, “One of our regulars was thinking of buying this used car for his son, who's pretty tall. He wanted us to check to make sure everything's in good working order before making the final purchase from the dealership selling this. So far the frame looks good, though there's a minor repair needed for the flex pipe, but we've got everything needed to do that. I plan on leaving the engine, which does smell a little burnt, to my aunt Morgan, since she's better at that than me.”

“I can look if you want,” Arthur said before he could stop himself, “I-I grew up working at a repair shop, so I worked with cars a lot?”

“Really? Hmm...” she pondered for a moment, glancing between him and the van, mumbling something to herself. Nodding, she turned to him, “Well, it wouldn't hurt to have a second opinion since everyone else is out for their dinner break beside Mama Vivienne - you've met her - and myself. I'll let you have a look at it and I'll take responsibility. All I ask is that you can't take anything too far apart. You mind if I watch?”

“Yeah, just let me grab my backpack since all my tools are in there.”

In less than a minute, Arthur went and placed Galahad back in his cage, grabbed his backpack, and took it and the cage back to where the mechanic is. Setting Galahad's cage aside to a safe location next to a toolbox, Arthur took out some tools from his bag and went straight to work.

“Oh, yeah, now that I think about it, we never introduced each other, did we?”

Blinking, Arthur looked at her, feeling stupid that he didn't think of the same thing, “Um, no.”

“My bad,” she smiled and held out a hand, “I'm Elaine. Elaine Knights. What's your name?”

“...Arthur Kingsmen,” he made sure to take her hand with his right, “And that's my hamster, Galahad.”

“Oh, that's a wonderful name,” the mechanic, Elaine, smiled, her eyes showing admiration, “It's like a hero's. It suits you.”

Arthur couldn't respond to that with his voice, so he went back to checking on the engine, slightly embarrassed. She thinks his name suits him? Far from it, he believes. A hero doesn't run away with cowardice, do they?

Notes: Cantabile, Tennessee is based off of Nashville, Tennessee, which is also known as Music City in the United States, or at least it is to some. Cantabile is a type of instrumental music style meant to imitate the human voice, hence “singable” or “song-like.” Don't expect Cantabile to be like Nashville, though, it just served as the inspiration for Cantabile's name and to contrast with the city name Tempo, Texas, which is the main setting for Mystery Skulls Animated.

Knights Part 3

#msa knights #msa arthur #msa fanfic #arthur kingsmen #mystery skulls animated #fanfic

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imnotinclinedtomaturity · 6 years

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Love Yourself (Chapter 27)

title: Love Yourself summary: A lot of things about Dan’s life are pretty great. He gets to make the music he wants, he’s got a great fanbase, and his manager is his best friend. A few things about his life suck a bit more. He’s currently lacking inspiration, he’s rather lonely, and he’s stuck in a rut. Dan’s been going to the same coffee shop for years. It’s quiet, it’s quaint, it’s near his home. Most importantly: none of the employees give a shit that’s he a world-famous singer. Things change when he meets the new barista. chapter words: 8.8k story words: 219.6k (so far) chapter: 27/? rating: m warnings: language, alcohol, sex mentions, some bi/homophobia, eventual explicit smut, some depression genre: singer!dan, coffee shop au, barista!phil, slow burn [[ao3]] [[first chapter]] [[previous chapter]]

a/n: thank you to everyone for being the best audience i could hope for. i appreciate how patient y'all have been, how understanding you've been that i needed time time off because of Adulthood and Mental Health. i'm not feeling particularly articulate right now, but know that i love and appreciate you all. back to our regularly scheduled programming now! updates should come every 1.5 weeks-ish again :) also, a massive thanks to @auroraphilealis as always, not just for editing, but also for being a great best friend and a wonderful cheerleader. ily xx

Loud, persistent buzzing pulled Phil sharply from his sleep. It took a few sleepy seconds before he registered that the buzzing was his phone on his bedside table — and it was apparently ringing. Still half asleep, Phil waited until it stopped vibrating before reaching for it. It was too damn early to actually talk to anyone, but curiosity was still getting the best of him.

He pried an eye open and looked at the screen, instinctively flinching away from the bright light. Without his glasses, he was too blind to see who had called, but he could just barely make out the time — half past seven.

Nearly an hour before his alarm was due to go off.

That was nearly an hour of sleep that someone was trying to take from Phil. And after the whirlwind of last night’s date, Phil wanted nothing more than to sleep in. It wasn’t like Dan was here to give him a reason to get up.

With a stubborn, tired sigh, Phil rolled back into his pillow. Whoever had called could wait — at least until he was ready to get out of bed.

Just as he was drifting off again, though, his phone rang again. Grumbling, Phil pushed himself onto his elbows and held his phone close enough to his face that he could just barely make out PJ’s name.

PJ? Why was PJ calling him? PJ rarely called Phil. They skyped, sure, but those calls were usually scheduled and were always in the evening.

No, if PJ was caling at this hour, he must need something. And, unfortunately, Phil prided himself on being the Reliable Friend who always answered when his friends needed him.

Reluctantly, Phil swiped on PJ’s name, immediately putting the call on speaker so that he could fall back into his pillow.

“What the hell do you want, Peej?” Phil grumbled as soon as the phone call connected.

“Did I wake you up?”

“It’s not even eight in the morning,” Phil complained. “Of course you woke me up.”

“Mmm,” PJ hummed dismissively. “Are you with Dan?”

“No, I dropped him off after our date last night.” Phil stretched slightly, his hands reaching up under the pillow and hugging it closer to his face.

“Oh… have you, er, talked to him since?” PJ didn’t sound curious, and didn’t sound like he was trying to get information out of Phil about his date. PJ sounded… worried.

Growing concerned by PJ’s tone, Phil pushed himself back onto his elbows. “No, why? What happened?”

“I take it you haven’t been on the internet yet?”

“No. Get to the point, Peej,” Phil huffed impatiently.

“Dan — well, I thought maybe he’d’ve talked it over with you. I mean, twitter’s — fuck, how —“

“What the fuck happened?” Phil demanded, cutting off PJ’s rambling.

Even through the phone, and on speaker, Phil could hear PJ’s deep sigh, could feel his hesitation, before he finally spoke. “You need to look at Dan’s instagram. He sort of… made a big announcement in the dead of night.”

Phil felt a wave of dread wash over him. He certainly wasn’t sleepy anymore. A jumble of incoherent, panicked thoughts were battering at Phil’s brain, but he did his best to push them aside. Worrying wouldn’t do any good right now.

“Hang on, I’m pulling it up.”

Phil hit the home button on his phone with a bit more force than necessary, and was finally confronted with a frankly obscene amount of notifications given that he hadn’t done anything online since the day before yesterday, really. With a concerned huff, Phil swiped his glasses off his night table and shoved them onto his nose, the red dots on his iphone icons coming into focus.

Four hundred and twelve notifications from instagram.

One thousand, two hundred, and ninety from twitter.

Six emails in his work-only account.

And seven text messages.

Despite PJ’s urging to look at Dan’s instagram, Phil opened his messages first. There were three from PJ, which Phil ignored since Peej had clearly gotten ahold of him. Below PJ’s thread, there was a message from his mother and brother each. And finally below them were two messages from Dan.

The preview of their conversation showed that Dan’s most recent text — and we should probably talk — had come in at 3:34AM. That message alone made Phil’s heart pound against his chest.

“You there, mate?” PJ asked.

“Yeah,” Phil confirmed with a strangled gulp. “He texted me.”

“Oh?” PJ sounded interested.

Phil didn’t respond. He didn’t open the text. He didn’t breath. He didn’t do much of anything, really. He was frozen, trying to process what we should talk might mean, trying to convince himself it didn’t mean something horrible.

“Well?” PJ prompted when the silence drew on for too long. “What’d he say?”

“Right,” Phil mumbled as he forced himself to click on Dan’s message, to see what his previous message said. To see if it could make sense of whatever the fuck seemed to be happening this morning.

Phil’s eyes skimmed over his own four messages — he’d somehow blocked out the fact that he’d quadruple-texted Dan last night — before reading what Dan had said.

Dan [3:31 AM]: before you look at your twitter and instagram and whatever notifications, you should probably look at my instagram

Dan [3:34AM]: and we should probably talk

Together, the two messages did absolutely nothing to quell Phil’s anxiety. In fact, Phil’s heart was just thumping louder and more aggressively.

“He just said to look at his instagram.” Phil swallowed roughly. “And that we should talk.”

A quiet hum was PJ’s only response — another thing that didn’t help to calm the panic in Phil’s veins. Phil didn’t like the thoughts racing around his head, didn’t like that the first place his mind had gone was Isabella — and Dan getting back together with her.

Not that Phil really thought that was a risk, but still. The insecure part of his brain liked to remind him that Dan’s last partner had been a model, even if she was a bitch.

With a steeling breath, Phil tapped on the instagram icon.

It seemed to take a million and one years for the app to load, and when it finally did, it opened to a picture his brother had posted of his girlfriend.

Not helpful.

Not wanting to waste time scrolling through his feed, Phil tapped the magnifying glass. Dan’s name was at the top of his recent searches, a small “one new post” written below his username.

Quickly, but shaking with apprehension, Phil clicked on Dan’s profile.

It seemed to take forever for the page to load, but when it did, the first thing Phil saw was a picture of Dan’s scribbly handwriting, made all the more difficult to read by messy highlighting.

For a second, Phil was annoyed at the highlights, frustrated that Dan had obscured his writing even further than his nearly-illegible handwriting. But then the colors of the highlights sunk in — pink, purple, blue.

They were the bi-pride colors.

Phil knew, obviously, and he was certain Dan’s audience would know that, too.

By this point, Phil knew Dan well enough to know that Dan didn’t do anything unintentionally. Not in his music, not on social media, and not in real life. If he’d gone out of his way to highlight whatever he’d written and posted — well, the colors of the highlights were deliberate.

Phil bypassed the words in the picture and flickered down to the caption, hoping for a quick and easy explanation.

the majority of this album is being written thanks to one person. this is the song that started the whole concept of this album and i think it deserves a bit of an update after he took me out on the best first date of my life tonight. he might not have agreed with the timing of when i decided to rewrite it, though ;) xx

“Oh shit,” Phil muttered, dumbfounded, when the gravity of Dan’s caption finally sunk in.

“Yeah…” PJ murmured, his voice carefully neutral.

Phil glanced back up to the picture and scanned over Dan’s messy handwriting as fast as he could. From what Phil could tell, it looked like it was, well, about him. If the caption didn’t convince him, the let’s stop running from love and the fact that Dan confessed to rewriting something because of Phil last night…

“He came out,” Phil mumbled, unnecessarily pointing out the obvious.

“And took you with him, mate,” PJ grumbled.

Phil cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowing as he read and reread Dan’s post, trying to pinpoint what PJ was referencing. Nowhere did it mention his name or even anything identifying. The most telling piece of information was the he — but that pronoun could apply to a large portion of the world.

“How do’ya figure?” Phil asked.

“Mate, you and Dan haven’t been very subtle. Look at twitter.”

Even without opening twitter, Phil knew what PJ meant. Him and Dan had been, well, flirting for weeks now. There really wasn’t any other way to describe their online banter.

But upon skimming through his twitter notifications, Phil realized just how confident their audience was as they jumped to the albeit somewhat obvious conclusion.

Tweet after tweet had responded to Dan’s instagram post, all tagging Phil, all speculating on exactly who the he in Dan’s post could be.

And every tweet Phil saw guessed it was him.

And every tweet Phil saw was right.

“They all know anyway,” Phil mumbled flatly. He was supposed to be feeling something right now — surely he was. His boyfriend had just come out, his entire audience was — correctly — guessing that he was in a relationship with a famous singer, his own mum had probably texted him about it. And yet, Phil couldn’t wrap his mind around what he was feeling.

He just felt… surprised.

“Yeah. Are you okay with that?” PJ asked gently.

“I…” Phil tried to process all of the new new new as fast as he could. “I guess it was never that secret that I liked guys. I mean, how many times have I mentioned finding male celebrities attractive?”

“That’s true,” PJ agreed. “But I also know that hinting and confirming are two different things.”

“I mean… yeah,” Phil finally relented.

“But you didn’t know Dan was going to do this?”

“No…” Phil chewed on the inside of his cheek as he thought through all of the conversations him and Dan had had about their public image. “He made it sound like he didn’t want to come out at all.”

“What changed?”

“I don’t know,” Phil responded tersely.

He should know.

“Do you think he wants people to know that you’re the guy?” PJ pushed.

“I don’t know!” Phil snapped

He really should know.

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line.“Sorry,” PJ muttered, clearing his voice before he spoke again. “What do you want?”

“I… don’t know,” Phil finished lamely.

Turns out he didn’t know much of anything.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” PJ offered softly.

“I…” Phil tried to think about it, he really did, but his mind kept coming back to why why why. At the end of their date, Dan had pulled Phil into the bloody loo to kiss goodnight, presumably because Dan hadn’t wanted the waitstaff to see, and then just a few hours later, Dan had gone and done that. “I need to talk to Dan. To know what the fuck happened.”

“That’s fair,” PJ agreed. “Can I do anything to help?”

“No, I’m just… gonna call him.” Phil pushed his glasses onto his head and roughly rubbed his face — an attempt to both wake up and alleviate some stress. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Ring if you need me, okay? And let me know how it goes.”

“I will. I’ll text you later,” Phil promised. “Bye Peej.”

Needing to cancel his ten o’clock meeting with his manager, Phil opened his work email to send off some excuse, only to find that Marianne had already emailed him. Along with three people from the BBC. And every single subject line contained the name Daniel Howell.

How the hell had all of these people been up and about and reacting to social media already?

Phil ignored the multiple emails from the BBC, but opened the one from Marianne. He skimmed through the message, where she basically just pointed out what he already knew — that his audience had drawn some pretty big conclusions based on something Dan had posted. At the end of her email, she suggested they “review possible responses” during their meeting that morning.

Not fucking likely, Phil scoffed.

Quickly, Phil typed out the most adult version of sorry for the late notice, but I need to cancel our meeting because my brand-new boyfriend went off the walls in the middle of the night and I have no idea what’s happening. He didn’t bother to read it over again — now wasn’t the moment for proofreading — and immediately dialed Dan as soon as the email was sent.

The phone didn’t ring though, and instead went straight to voicemail. “Dammit Dan,” Phil mumbled in aggravation, hanging up before Dan’s voicemail could start recording.

Chewing on his lower lip, Phil thought through his options. If Dan’s phone was off, then no amount of texting or calling or facetiming would do any good. It was frustrating to have no way to contact Dan after he’d dropped such a massive bomb.

Except, well, that wasn’t quite true, was it?

Dan had put Phil on his permanent visitors list, so theoretically Phil could just… show up. Which might be a bit of a rash move but…

But nothing.

Phil was confused and caught off guard and felt like he deserved an explanation. Despite the early hour, Phil threw off his blue and green check comforter and pushed himself out of bed with steadfast resolution.

He wanted an explanation and, goddammit he’d get an explanation.

On shaky, tired feet, Phil riffled through his drawers for suitable trousers while kicking off his emoji pajamas. No human being — especially not his fashiony, hot new boyfriend — needed to see him in those. The first somewhat acceptable option Phil’s hand landed on were a pair of rather tight joggers, but he couldn’t be arsed to care at that moment. They’d have to do.

He kicked all the way out of his embarrassing, yellow pajamas and pulled on the tight sweatpants in their place. His loose Friends shirt would have to do, because he didn’t feel like wasting the time to find a suitable replacement, and it wasn’t that awful of a shirt.

Phil’s hair was probably a right mess too, but he couldn’t be bothered to deal with that either at the moment. All in all, this was definitely the least effort he’d ever put into his appearance when he knew he was going to see Dan, but he was growing impatient. Doing anything other than pulling on a jacket and shoes felt like it would waste too much time.

Even the three minute wait for the uber felt like too much time, and Phil had to refrain from just starting to walk over when he got downstairs and the car wasn’t there yet. But the car arrived before Phil could do anything rash, and Phil climbed in with only the briefest of smiles to the driver. His five star rating might take a hit, but he didn’t particularly care at that moment.

On the drive to Dan’s flat, the impatience in Phil’s stomach grew into something… more desperate. The more time he spent longing for an answer, the more he felt like he should already have one — like he should have known about what Dan was doing before he’d done it. And of course, of course, it was Dan’s decision if he wanted to come out — and hell, Phil was downright ecstatic for him — but Phil couldn’t help feeling like…

Feeling like he should have been part of the decision if Dan was going to so nearly pull Phil out of the closet, too.

Not that Phil was hiding in the closet, persay. But as PJ had pointed out, there was a big difference between hinting and confirming, and what Dan had just done was suddenly pushing Phil to confirm. And that Phil couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

He wasn’t against it. Not quite. But — fuck. He really would have liked to have been a part of the decision.

The process of getting into Dan’s building was the easiest yet, this time. All Phil had to do was tell the doorman his name and that he was there to see Dan before he was getting ushered into the lift, the seven button already pressed for him.

The ride up to Dan’s apartment felt shorter than normal — so short that Phil didn’t have time to collect his courage and figure out exactly what he wanted to say. When the doors opened to Dan’s flat, Phil hovered uncertainly in the lift, suddenly worried that it was incredibly rude to just invite himself over to Dan’s flat. Maybe Dan’s phone had gone straight to voicemail because he’d turned it off so he could sleep. Maybe Dan wasn’t ready to tell Phil about what he’d done.

But no, that wasn’t quite right. Dan had texted Phil, had told Phil to look at his instagram and had even said that they needed to talk. So it wasn’t absurd that he was here, now.

The lift doors started closing, the sudden movement pulling Phil harshly out of his spiral of anxious thoughts. Phil’s body, for once, was a step ahead of his mind, because his arm flew out to catch the door before he processed what was happening. He hurried out of the lift and into the foyer before the door could start to close again.

Dan had put Phil on his permanent visitors list. This was fine. It wasn’t insane that Phil was here right now.

Determined, Phil pushed his way further into the flat, walking quietly towards Dan’s room. He only made it as far as the lounge, though, before he ran smack into someone.

Someone much shorter than him or Dan.

“Phil?”

Surprised, Phil’s eyes scanned down and he took in the young woman standing in front of him — he certainly hadn’t been expecting anyone else to be here, and now he really was feeling like just coming over might have been a dick move.

“Louise?” he asked tentatively, nearly positive that he recognized her from Dan’s instagram and pictures he’d shown him of Darcy and her mum.

“Yes!” Louise greeted, her voice hushed. “I’m glad it’s you, when I heard the lift ding I thought —” She cut herself off, glancing back over her shoulder into the lounge. “Well, nevermind. Tea?”

“Oh, er…” Phil glanced over her head, his eyes drifting back towards Dan’s room. As much as he knew that Louise was definitely someone that he should be trying to make a good impression on, Phil really didn’t want to sit down for a cuppa right now. His mind was still reeling from the whirlwind of this morning, and he could barely think straight, much less talk coherently to a stranger.

But regardless, he knew how important Louise was to Dan — and how much Louise’s opinion mattered to him — so Phil pushed back the swirling confusion muddling his head and forced himself to smile pleasantly. “I might just look for Dan if you don’t mind.” Anxiously, Phil rubbed the back of his neck and hoped that his smile wasn’t coming out too much like a grimace.

Louise’s eyes flicked behind her. Her tense shoulders and skeptical eyes gave Phil the feeling that she wasn’t sure if him seeking Dan out was a good idea. “He’s asleep at the moment,” she said, pursing her lips and staring at Phil thoughtfully, like she was trying to figure him out. “You sure I can’t interest you in tea? He’ll probably be asleep a while.”

“I…” Phil’s eyes darted around as he searched for an excuse out of socializing. Much to his dismay, he couldn’t easily find one. He opened and closed his mouth as he desperately tried to find a polite way out of making small talk with Louise — this certainly wasn’t the first impression he wanted to make on Dan’s best friend.

“I’m not really up for tea, right now,” Phil blurted out abruptly, settling on the truth and cringing at his bluntness. Phil shifted his gaze down to his feet, unable to continue meeting her eye. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “This morning’s just been a lot already, and…”

Louise sighed, and shot Phil an unsure look. Phil watched as her arms came up, and she crossed them over her chest. “Dan had a late night last night.”

“I know,” Phil admitted, anxiously shifting back and forth on his feet. “But I need to talk to him.”

“And you can wait until he wakes up,” Louise said with an air of finality, her arms still crossed in front of her.

Phil sighed and tugged on his sloppy quiff, aggravated — not quite at Louise, just more at… the situation in general. His phone felt heavy in his pocket, and he was hyper aware of all of the emails and texts that he needed to respond to.

Emails and texts that he didn’t know how to respond to because Dan hadn’t fucking talked to him.

“Look,” Phil said, keeping his voice as steady and calm as he could. “I kind of woke up to a PR nightmare this morning and —”

“Oh god, are you not out?” Louise interrupted, her eyes growing wide in panic.

“I — mostly,” Phil hesitated, unsure how to phrase it. The being out thing wasn’t exactly his main problem here. “Never in crystal clear words, but it was out there.” Phil shrugged that particular concern off. “But, like, I hadn’t told my manager — or even my mum — that I was dating Dan yet, and now they definitely both know because they aren’t idiots.” Phil gestured around wildly, his arms trying to convey how absolutely insane the situation was so that he didn’t end up shouting, despite his frustration. “I’m not sure who’s going to be more upset about not knowing. And I can’t even respond to them, because I have no idea what to say because I have no idea what the fuck happened. We haven’t even discussed if we want our relationship to be public or how to handle the media or anything!”

Phil’s arms fell to his sides, limp and useless, as his rant came to a sudden, frustrated end.

His little tantrum must have done some good, though, because Louise looked a bit more empathetic now.

“I get it,” she sighed, sounding resigned. “I’m a manager. And a mum.”

“Thanks,” Phil smiled tersely. “So then you won’t mind if I…?” he gestured vaguely over Louise’s shoulder.

Her eyes traced over him slowly, carefully appraising him. “Fine,” she relented after a minute. “Just… try not to be too hard on him, okay? I’m sure he’ll be in a touchy mood when he wakes up.” Despite her understanding words, Louise still looked wary.

Phil wondered how many stories of hot-tempered, passionate fights Louise had heard over the last year.

“I promise I won’t be a — I won’t be like Isabella,” Phil offered, hoping that the heavy, sincere weight of his voice would convince Louise that he was different.

Louise’s eyes grew wide, her jaw falling open just a hair — she looked surprised, but maybe also a bit… pleased? The tenseness in her shoulders melted — at least some — and she looked less wary. The assurance that not only he knew about Isabella, but was also determined to be different seemed to matter to Louise.

“Good. Because you’ll have me to report to if you hurt him,” Louise threatened, but there was a humorous glint in her eye and a hint of a smile ghosting her lips.

“I won’t hurt him, but that’s a deal.” Phil smiled weakly with an emphatic nod. “So is it okay if I…?” Phil pointed vaguely over Louise’s shoulder, trying to ask her to let him by as gently as possible.

Louise nodded, stepping around Phil towards the foyer. “Yeah, I’m going to nip out then. Tell Dan to text me at some point today, and be nice.”

Phil was tempted to make a sarcastic comment, but didn’t want to risk Louise’s trust. He couldn’t help feeling like he was on a very short leash as it was right now. “I promise I won’t even scream or anything, okay?”

“Good,” Louise said with a smile before heading for the lift. Just before she got to the foyer, she spun around to face Phil again. “Good luck with your mum. And manager.”

“Thanks,” Phil laughed with a genuine smile. “I think I’ll need it.”

Phil waited for the ding of the lift, wanting to make sure Louise was well gone before he sought out Dan, before gathering his courage and carrying on down the hallway. For a split second, he hesitated outside of the closed bedroom door, not completely certain that it was acceptable for him to just burst into Dan’s room and wake him up.

But the memory of the literal thousands of notifications was fresh in Phil’s head, so he pushed open the bedroom door anyway.

The bed, however, was neatly made, and there was no Dan in sight.

Weird. Louise had definitely said that Dan was still asleep. Maybe the guest bedroom?

Confused, Phil stepped backwards and turned back down the hallway, peeking his head into the next room. No Dan in that bed, either.

Phil couldn’t imagine that Dan would be in the music room, and he wasn’t sure where else to look other than the lounge. Phil made his way back, tentatively looking around the lounge entrance before entering.

Curled up on the sofa, still in his tight studded sweater from the night before, was Dan. Despite Phil’s confusion and anxiety, his heart melted. Dan’s hair — and the entire lounge, now that Phil was really looking — was a complete wreck.

There was glass on the floor, both large chunks and shattered shards, that Phil had to navigate around on his way to the sofa. The table — which Phil was accustomed to seeing in a pristine state — was covered in papers and — oh god was that the lube? — on one end. Dan’s notebook was open on the floor, surrounded by a hodge podge of markers. Phil had to bite back the urge to flip through it, to see what else Dan was working on, to pry just a little.

That wasn’t what was important right now, though. Phil turned his back on the mess and properly took in Dan’s lanky body curled up tight on the sofa.

Looking more carefully, Phil’s eyes lingered on where Dan’s trousers were riding down, a soft pale patch of stomach poking out. Dan’s hands were cradled near his face, and his phone was dangling from his fingertips. Phil hovered above Dan, rocking back and forth between his feet as he tried to decide if he really should wake Dan up.

Phil knew Dan had been up late — close to four, at least, and that was assuming he’d gone to sleep straight after texting Phil. Letting Dan sleep a little longer was definitely the nice, selfless thing to do.

But Phil was too anxious and desperate for answers to be selfless right now.

Before Phil could lose his nerve, he reached out and poked Dan’s shoulder.

The poke, however, didn’t seem to be enough to rouse Dan from his sleep. “Dan?” Phil tried, his fingers rubbing into Dan’s bicep a bit harder. “Babe? Wake up?”

“Mmmh,” Dan grumbled. Even in his sleep, Dan seemed reluctant to be roused.

“Please babe? I really need to talk to you,” Phil pleaded. He switched tactics and grabbed ahold of Dan’s shoulder, gently shaking until Dan started stirring.

“Louise?” Dan mumbled, nearly incoherent, without opening his eyes. “Wha’ d’ya want?”

“No, it’s Phil,” Phil corrected.

“Oh.” Dan’s eyes fluttered open, slowly drifting upwards to meet Phil’s.

They were red. Much redder than they normally were when Dan woke up.

The rawness of Dan’s eyes, and the way he rubbed at them, made Phil wonder just how late of a night Dan and Louise had had.

Blearily, Dan’s gaze fell from Phil’s, scanning the room before landing on his phone. Without saying anything else to Phil, he tapped the home button, only to sigh when it wouldn’t come on. “What time s’it?” Dan asked blearily.

“About eight thirty,” Phil guessed without actually checking a clock.

Dan nodded, his eyes drifting back to his phone. “Hang on,” he said, “Lemme plug this s’in ‘nd get some coffee.” Dan pushed up off the sofa, stretching slightly and making his sweater ride up even further. “Want some?” he asked, eyes bleary as he glanced at Phil before turning to leave.

Phil’s brows furrowed, bewildered that Dan was so casually offering him coffee.

As if nothing major had happened since they’d last seen each other.

“Wait—” Phil said as he reached out and caught Dan by the wrist, preventing him from going anywhere. “Are you not even going to acknowledge it?” he asked, annoyance starting to creep into his voice.

Dan raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.

Phil blinked back rapidly, baffled by Dan’s lack of… well, anything.

“Oh come on, don’t play dumb,” Phil groaned, irritated. Dan’s eyes grew wide and he held Phil’s gaze for a fleeting moment before flickering off to the side. In the brief seconds that Dan had looked at him, Phil could see entire pools of emotions — emotions that he wasn’t quite sure what to make of. There was sleepiness, but there was also worry and… something else.

Something that Phil really wished Dan would just share with him.

“Your texts? Instagram? The internet?” Phil prompted, his voice growing more and more pointed with each suggestion when Dan didn’t say anything.

Dan ran his free hand through his hair, grabbing at the ends of his curls and tugging. His eyes drifted back to Phil’s, and he stepped minutely backwards, his hand nearly coming out of Phil’s grip. “I know, I know,” Dan finally sighed, sounding defeated “I just really need some fucking coffee first. I had a long night.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve had a long morning,” Phil countered; his fingers wrapped more tightly around Dan’s arm, his nails insistently digging into the soft underside of Dan’s wrist.

Dan flinched back, his hand yanking backwards out of Phil’s grip and curling protectively against his chest. “I suppose that’s my doing, then?” he asked meekly as he stared down at the space between them.

Phil shot Dan an unamused look, not that Dan was looking up to see it. A part of him was itching to reach out and force Dan to look up at him, but Dan didn’t look like he’d be okay with Phil touching him just now. “No, I normally wake up to thousands of notifications after a nice quiet day away from social media,” Phil quipped, unable to keep a sarcastic edge out of his voice.

Dan’s eyes clamped shut, and he drew in a sharp breath. His arms shifted to cross in front of his chest, his entire body crumpling in on itself. “Just… hang on,” Dan begged softly without looking at Phil. He sounded so small, so young. Guilt washed over Phil — he was responsible for making Dan look so vulnerable. “Let me get a cup of coffee. Please.”

Phil drew his hands back to his side, shoving them in the front pockets of his joggers as a silent promise that he wasn’t going to try to stop Dan. “Of course,” he nodded, trying his best to keep his voice soft and even. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

With a small shake of his head, Dan teetered away from Phil cautiously and backed out of the room without ever turning fully away. At the last second, Dan spun around, narrowly avoiding running into the doorframe as he exited the lounge.

It was an odd reaction, one that gave Phil the sense that Dan was afraid to turn his back on Phil. Self-defensive reactions like that weren’t usually natural — they were learned.

Phil swallowed thickly, suddenly wondering how deep Louise’s fears ran. Dan’s movements were shaky, guarded, and he seemed to be fighting the urge to not look over his shoulder. Not wanting to make Dan more uncomfortable, Phil trailed behind at a distance as Dan led the way.

In the kitchen, Dan went straight to start the coffee and Phil came to a rest at the opposite counter. Dan still wasn’t meeting Phil’s eyes — hell, he wasn’t even looking up — but Phil could tell that Dan knew exactly where Phil was by the wide berth he gave Phil’s spot along the counter.

The entire kettle shook when Dan filled it with water; his hands were trembling, but his jaw was set, rigid. “Coffee?” Dan murmured without glancing over.

“Sure,” Phil accepted quietly. He made an effort to keep his voice as soft and gentle as he could. “Milk —”

“And two sugars, same as your tea. I know,” Dan interrupted quietly. If something weren’t so clearly wrong with Dan’s behavior right now, Phil would have been touched that Dan knew how he took his coffee. Instead, Phil was hyper-focused on Dan’s shaky movements and watched carefully as Dan rummaged through the cupboards, finally pulling out a ceramic soup bowl that was nearly mug-like and — oh. Phil had forgotten that Dan only had one functioning mug.

Because Isabella smashed the rest. In a fight. A fight unlike any fight Phil that had ever had.

Regardless, Dan poured milk and sugar into the proper mug, adding only the smallest spoonful of sugar to the makeshift mug. That was so typical Dan — putting others first, always striving to make others happy. Phil’s lips twitched for a second, nearly quirking up into a smile at Dan’s persistent thoughtfulness.

Phil waited in silence for the kettle to boil, knowing that he wasn’t likely to get anything useful out of a sleepy Dan. Plus, he hoped that a bit of quiet — and space — would help calm whatever Dan’s fears were.

It felt like it took the coffee maker ages to brew their coffee. Phil was growing well anxious, and Dan didn’t seem to be in much of a better state. Eventually, though, Dan was pouring two cups of coffee, passing the polka dotted mug to Phil, and hugging the soup bowl close to himself.

Dan took a large gulp of his coffee, only lowering it a few centimeters when he was done. The mug was held up high, nearly obscuring his face, and his gaze was focused on the black liquid inside. Dan’s arms were tucked into his chest, and his shoulders hunched up. Again, Phil was struck by how small Dan looked.

“Well? Let’s hear it then,” Dan whispered without looking up.

“Hear what?” Phil asked, head cocked, confused.

“You’re mad at me, so let’s just… get the part where you yell at me or whatever over with.” Dan’s eyes flicked up, just barely landing on Phil, and looked back at his coffee so quickly that Phil would certainly have missed it if he wasn’t watching Dan so closely.

Phil’s heart plummeted into his stomach as Dan confirmed his dreaded speculations — all of this, all of Dan’s current behavior, had something to do with how fights had gone in the past. Phil opened and closed his mouth, sputtering stupidly like a fish as he tried to figure out what to say.

“I didn’t come over here to yell at you,” Phil tried his best to placate his boyfriend, even though he didn’t really know how. Not right now, not with this new, scared Dan.They’d only had one tiff since meeting, and then it’d blown over because Phil had dropped it. But it wasn’t a lie — no matter how desperate and confused and frustrated Phil was, yelling at Dan was never his intention.

“But you are mad,” Dan said simply, still addressing his coffee more than Phil.

“I’m not mad, I’m… in shock, I guess.” Phil blew on his coffee, stalling for time as he grappled for a way he could express his frustrations without unnecessarily startling Dan.

“Call it whatever you want, but I can tell you’re not happy with me,” Dan mumbled.

“Okay, fine,” Phil relented, swallowing his trepediations and deciding to speak his mind. “I was shocked when I woke up to thousands of messages on my social media talking about you coming out and speculating about us.” Dan nodded — a microscopic, subtle movement — but didn’t say anything, so Phil continued. “And I’ll admit that I was a bit miffed when I realized that Louise was here but you didn’t even try to contact me last night.”

“Louise is my best friend,” Dan pushed back, a hint of anger in his voice.

“And I’m your boyfriend now!” Phil insisted. “In order for a relationship to work, we have to communicate, Dan.”

“You’re not my fucking boss,” Dan barked. “I can talk to whoever the fuck I want to. And if you’ve got a problem with Louise, you can just leave now.” There was a harsh edge to Dan’s voice, but beneath it, Phil could just barely tell that it was shaking — shaking with what, he wasn’t sure. Anger, maybe. Or fear.

“I don’t have a problem with Louise,” Phil argued. “It’s just — I texted you four bloody times last night. You could have talked to me if you needed… I don’t know, help, or whatever.” Phil waved his hand in frustration as his words failed him.

Dan sat his mug down on the counter, a loud clack filling the kitchen as the ceramic made contact with the granite countertop. “Look I just spent a fucking year with someone who didn’t like Louise and hated that I went to her for stuff, and if you’re gonna be that way too, then just fuck off already,” Dan spat out harshly.

If Phil wasn’t already leaning against the opposite counter, he would have jumped back at that. As it was, his lower back dug into the counter as he recoiled from Dan’s words.

“Don’t fucking compare me to Isabella!” Phil snapped, disgust and horror holding tight in his stomach. “I don’t give a rat’s ass that you go to your best friend instead of me sometimes, but when you end up doing something that all but confirms that you and I are dating, yeah, I’d like to be a part of the decision!”

“You can’t control me Phil.” Dan’s shoulders drew up impossibly closer to his ears, his voice growing high pitched. “I can’t take the time to get written permission from you every time I want to say something about my album.”

“And I’m not asking you to!” Phil retaliated. “But couldn’t you have waited, like, a day so that I wasn’t completely blindsided by you basically outing me when I woke up this morning?”

“No,” Dan huffed, an edge of stubbornness cutting into his defiance.

“No?” Phil asked incredulously.

“No,” Dan repeated, his voice even more forceful this time. “You couldn’t have talked me out of it.”

“I wouldn’t have tried to!” Phil exclaimed before he could process what Dan had said — before he could process that Dan seemed to think that Phil would try to control him. In some ways, at least. “I get that given… your album…” Phil trailed off as he grappled for the right words, words that would capture how Dan’s album affected Phil’s life without him sounding ungrateful or overly important.

He took a deep breath before continuing. “I get that your album is going to take away some of the privacy and control over my image that I’m used to having online, and that’s fine. But couldn’t this have waited, like, a day so that we could talk about it first? And I could… I don’t know, tell my family we were properly dating first?”

Dan shook his head forcefully, his curls flopping down into his face. “You don’t understand Phil. There wasn’t time. It had to be now.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Phil huffed, his free hand lacing through his hair and pushing it further back.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Dan snapped, his arms crossing hotly in front of his chest.

“I’m sure I would if you would stop being defensive for five seconds and actually explained yourself!” The words flew out of Phil’s mouth before he realized what he was saying. They were harsh, yes, but they were true. It felt like all Dan was doing this morning was be overly contrary for no discernible reason, and he wasn’t fucking listening. Phil didn’t want to be angry right now, he really didn’t. It was just hard when Dan was acting like this.

Dan appeared to have heard that, though, if the way he flinched backwards was anything to go by.

“Excuse me?” Dan challenged. He sounded positively outraged, his tone just this side of livid. His shoulders were shaking, and Phil could see anger flaring in his eyes.

And something else, too. Something like… hurt.

Phil put his own mug down on the counter, dragging his hands down his face in exasperation. This wasn’t the conversation — well, fight, at this rate — that he’d come over here to have this morning. Phil hadn’t been wanting to argue, he’d just wanted to understand.

“I’m just trying to talk to you, Dan,” Phil pleaded, his voice coming out whiny and needy “I just want to know what the hell happened last night.”

“Right,” Dan laughed bitterly. “You want to know all about the part where I almost outed you, but you don’t seem at all concerned about the part where I actually came out.”

“That was your choice!” Phil insisted, voice raised.

“No it wasn’t!” Dan bellowed back.

Phil froze, his eyes snapping up to meet Dan’s again. Dan had pushed off the counter, and crossed almost half of the kitchen. He was standing rigid, his body leaning forward, his hands in tight fists by his sides. Dan’s eyes were blown wide — he looked shocked by his own words.

Phil certainly was.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Phil asked slowly, warily. Something happened last night — something big — that much was clear. What wasn’t clear, though, was why Dan hadn’t called Phil last night.

They could have talked about it. Phil could have helped.

“It means — it means —” Dan stuttered, before abruptly giving up. The tension melted out of Dan’s shoulders as he crumpled in on himself, retreating back to lean against his countertop. “It doesn’t mean anything. Can we just move on?”

“No we can’t bloody move on,” Phil huffed, his frustration growing. He’d passed impatient, passed needing answers; now, he was downright desperate. “Can you just tell me what the fuck you mean, already? What happened last night?”

Phil stared at Dan with pleading eyes, silently begging him to explain what he’d meant. For a moment, Dan just stared back at Phil. A loud silence overtook the room, neither of them saying anything else.

Finally, the tense silence was interrupted by a sharp sigh from Dan. Dan’s gaze fell from Phil’s, turning down to his own feet. An agitated hand ran through Dan’s hair, tugging on his curls.

A brief wave of relief shot through Phil, certain that he was about to get an explanation for Dan’s weird behavior. Phil pushed away from the counter, debating whether he should go to Dan, maybe tip his head up and kiss his forehead. Something small to make Dan feel more comfortable talking.

But then, Dan was crossing the kitchen in three big strides, coming to a halt right in front of Phil. Bewildered, Phil searched Dan’s face, trying to figure out what the hell Dan was doing. Dan’s eyes were wild, frantic, a panicked gleam shimmering in them. His cheeks were flushed red, his mouth drawn in a tight line. He was so, so close, so afraid.

And then he was gone.

Phil blinked rapidly, confused and unsure where Dan had disappeared to. One second he was there, and then poof he was gone.

Unsure, that was, until a sudden waft of cool air washed over his upper thighs.

Phil’s attention snapped down, finding Dan again. Dan’s hands were on Phil’s joggers — joggers that he’d managed to tug down to Phil’s knees before Phil had even realized where Dan had gone. He was still tugging, trying to wrestle them over Phil’s knees now.

“Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan,” Phil gasped, his voice coming out rushed and urgent. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Dan didn’t look up at Phil. Instead, his hands abandoned Phil’s joggers, leaving them wrapped around Phil’s bony knees, and latched onto Phil’s boxers. His hands pulled insistently, frantically — too frantic to be particularly effective, mercifully.

“Dan!” Phil implored. The shock of the situation finally wore off, and Phil finally launched into motion, his hands flying out to catch Dan’s and prying them away from his hips. His boxers were awkwardly a bit low now, but Phil didn’t risk letting go of Dan’s hands — Phil was worried that Dan would just reach back to pull them all the way over his arse. “Look at me!” Phil ordered forcefully.

Slowly, painfully, Dan’s eyes drifted up and came to rest somewhere around Phil’s neck.

Phil took a deep breath, calming himself down, before he hooked his fingers under Dan’s chin and coaxed his head the rest of the way up. “Dan, sweetheart, what are you doing?” Phil asked, careful to keep a gentle tone to his voice now that he had Dan’s attention.

“Making the fight go away,” Dan responded. His voice was small — so, so small — and he still wasn’t quite meeting Phil’s gaze.

Phil stared blankly, his eyes trailing over Dan’s scared face, as he tried to figure out what was happening.

Suddenly, Phil was assaulted with the image of Dan covered in hickeys and scratches, embarrassed and ashamed as he admitted to Phil that they were from angry sex — angry sex that came from a fight.

Phil’s jaw dropped.

It didn’t shock Phil to know that Dan and Isabella dealt with their problems through sex, but he was a bit astonished to find the effects so lasting, to realize that Dan still seemed to think that angry sex was the proper solution to an argument, even with Phil.

Phil shook his head forcefully — both in attempt to tell Dan no, and also to shake himself out of his head and into action.

“Babe,” Phil whispered. Looking down at Dan’s vulnerable, submissive stance, Phil felt his heart breaking. Desperate to make them feel like equals again, Phil sunk down to his knees, too. He let go of Dan’s wrists, reaching up to brush back his unruly curls from his face. “Blowing me isn’t going to make the fight go away,” he whispered softly..

“Oh,” Dan muttered, voice small. His eyes trailed down between them. Phil couldn’t see his expression, but his body language spoke volumes. “It’s well and truly fucked then, huh?”

Dan sounded so scared, so distraught, that Phil wasn’t sure what to say for a moment. Dan sounded like he genuinely believed that it — they — must be fucked if a blowjob wasn’t going to fix their fight.

Phil’s shock turned to horror when he saw tears leak down Dan’s face.

“Oh, baby. No, no,” Phil cooed. His hands flew from Dan’s hair to cup his cheeks, his thumbs swiping under Dan’s eyes and smearing the tears away. “No, nothing’s fucked baby.”

Slowly, Dan tilted his head up to look at Phil. “It’s — it’s not?” he hiccupped, his voice coming out higher and more crackly than normal.

“Of course not,” Phil promised, rushed and confident. His eyes were wide in horror at the very idea of them, this, their relationship, being over so soon. His brows were furrowed in confusion at the idea of Dan being concerned that this was over — that they were over. “But the way to make the fight go away is to tell me what’s going on, tell me what you’re thinking.”

Dan sniffled loudly, his eyes fluttering closed again. He was quiet for a moment, with the exception of a few residual hiccups, but then he nodded slowly, his eyes still closed.

“Yeah? You’ll talk to me this time?” Phil asked hopefully.

Dan nodded again.

“Without getting defensive?” Phil prompted, half teasing, half trying to encourage Dan to act more rationally this time.

“Yeah,” Dan agreed meekly. He fell forward, Phil’s arms wrapping around and catching him on instinct. The second Phil’s arms were around Dan, Dan burrowed into him, melting against his chest. Dan’s hands were smushed between them, crooked at an awkward angle, but Phil didn’t mind.

Silence settled between them as Dan calmed down. Slowly, gently, Phil started tracing his fingers up and down Dan’s spine, his fingers catching on the studs of Dan’s sweater.

After a moment, Dan mumbled, “Can we sit down?”

Phil pulled back and pressed a lingering kiss to Dan’s forehead. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

Dan minutely leaned into Phil’s lips, pushing his head into the kiss for a moment before pulling back. He pushed up to his feet, and immediately offered Phil a hand up. Dan’s gaze trailed over Phil as he climbed off the floor; Phil felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he remembered the state of his clothing.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Dan muttered, his eyes meaningfully flicking down to Phil’s half drawn joggers.

“It’s okay,” Phil murmured back softly as he stood up with Dan’s help. Phil’s spare hand flew to his joggers, pulling them back up his hips as he stood. He tried his best to swallow down his embarrassment, to make his cheeks go back to a pale white; he didn’t want to call any more attention to Dan’s rash advances than necessary. Not right now.

For the first time that morning, Phil was thankful that he’d only been able to find the tight joggers that morning — anything looser would likely have slipped straight down Phil’s thin legs and likely made the whole situation more awkward.

Dan dropped Phil’s hand to turn and collect their coffees from their respective countertops while Phil fixed his pants and joggers,. “Come on,” Dan muttered, cocking his head out of the room.

Phil obediently followed Dan out the kitchen and towards the lounge, nearly smashing into him when Dan came to a sudden halt in the middle of the hallway.

“What?” Phil asked, alarmed.

Dan spun around to face Phil. “I don’t wanna be in the lounge.” His words came out rushed, his voice high. “It’s a mess.”

“I don’t mind,” Phil assured him, “But we can go wherever you want.” Phil stepped backwards, moving closer to the wall so that Dan could navigate around him and lead them somewhere else.

“I need something from in there, though,” Dan insisted; his words were vague, but his tone was determined. He thrusted their coffees at Phil without much more of an explanation. Phil grabbed the coffees in silent shock, his fingers barely wrapping around the mugs and steadying them before Dan let go.

“I’ll meet you in the bed,” Dan said with a note of finality.

Dan only made it a few paces down the hallway before he stopped and spun back around to face Phil. “If that’s okay, I mean,” he said quickly, his voice high and rushed. “It’ll be more comfortable than the music room and I swear I won’t, like, try anything again. Like, I promise I’ll talk, I’m just really tired and I —”

“Dan,” Phil interrupted gently. “The bed’s fine. Get whatever you need. I’ll be there waiting for you.”

#phanfic #phanfiction #phan #phan au #au #coffee shop au #barista!phil #singer!dan #iminclinedtowriting #ly #love yourself

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