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yunhohours · 2 years

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Seventeen Reaction: Seeing Your Naked Body for the First Time

Request: how do you think svt would react to seeing your naked body for the first time 😳 A/N: i tried to make these as gender neutral as possible ALSO some of these are more nsfw than others so read at your own risk sfjsdf

Seungcheol: "Take them off for me, then." Cheol's voice is husky as he sits on the bed, leaning back, strong arms propping up his upper half. You're a deer in headlights, eyes alternating between boring a hole into his because he can't be serious right now and flitting around the room to avoid eye contact altogether. "What do you—" You can't even finish your question, feeling silly for even asking. "If you want me like you say you do, then take your clothes off for me. Let me see you." You gulp, feeling like you might just crawl out of your skin as your mind races with anxieties, hopes, desires. Your body, on the other hand, is listening to the authority in his voice just perfectly, your clothes falling to the floor one after another. His eyes follow your every movement, tongue tracing the shape of his all-too-perfect lips. Once you've completed what he asked of you, his eyes make their way back to yours, taking their sweet time to enjoy the sights along the way. He smiles, his hand reaching for yours and tugging gently until you're close enough for him to sit you on his knee. He gives you a far softer kiss than you're expecting, one that doesn't last as long as you had hoped, but you forgive him when his lips opt to wander across your cheek, stopping just below your ear. "You are perfect, my baby," he whispers, his hand smoothing over your thigh in comfort. You don't realize you've been holding your breath until you exhale deeply, his gentle touch and reassurance all you needed to feel what matters most: safety—something you never lack with Cheol.

Jeonghan: "Hi, Hannie," you singsong into the receiver of your phone, water droplets from your hair leaving a trail behind you as you exit your bathroom. "Guess who's standing outside your door with takeout?" Right to the point, naturally. You smile fondly. You've always loved how Jeonghan surprises you. You were supposed to go out for dinner tonight, but here he is, surprising you with takeout so you can stay in alone. You're too busy feeling your heart double in size that you almost forget your situation—you are completely naked post-shower and he is right outside your door, prepared to walk in at any moment. "Wait! I uh—" You don't want to say the words. Somehow just telling him that you're naked feels incredibly intimate. "What's wrong? Was this the wrong move? Ah, you probably really wanted to go out tonight—" Letting him think he's the problem here is not an option. "No! I just, um. I... need to get dressed?" Your words sound like a question and Jeonghan, being the person he is, takes that as an opportunity to counter you. "Don't," he says simply. You're silent, jaw slack as you try to process what's happening. Did he really say that? Did he mean something else and you're not smart enough to understand? As if he can read your mind, he clarifies. "Unless you tell me not to, I'm going to come in right now, okay?" Your mouth is dry as you rush to sit on your couch to wait for him, hugging a pillow to your body for some sense of concealment. Your own heartbeat is so loud that you can't hear his footsteps approaching you, only being aware of his presence when he's standing in front of you. His head tilts at the sight of you and he sits, turning his body towards you. "Why are you hiding from me?" He asks, his hands reaching for the pillow, checking your eyes for approval before he slowly removes it from your grasp. You feel small and vulnerable, but not for long. "Don't hide from me. You're beautiful." He pulls you into him, arms wrapped protectively around you as he kisses the top of your head, hand stroking the back of your wet tresses. "I see you're an air dryer," he teases and you can't help but laugh away the rest of your nerves.

Joshua: “G’morning,” Joshua rasps against your neck, arms wrapped around your waist as his figure is molded to the back of yours. You hum happily, sleepily, tightening his arms around you with your own before lazily turning to face him. “Morning, Josh.” You find his lips with yours, arms moving around his neck for leverage as you press your front against his, your desire clear but surprising. Lucky for him, he doesn’t miss a beat. He rolls himself on top of you, lips never parting even as he mumbles against them. “Tell me.” You know what he means. “Want you, Josh.” His lips quirk into a smirk that you can feel on yours before he sits up. He catches your gaze and refuses to let go of it as his fingers find the hem of your shirt, slowly sliding it up your torso and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His eyes abandon yours only to sparkle as he takes you in, his gentle hands removing each piece of clothing from you one by one. “Look at you,” he glowers, his finger lightly tracing the shapes of your newly naked body. "Can't believe you've been hiding this from me," he mumbles as his head dips, leaving open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin he can reach.

Junhui: Jun doesn't know what you're upset about. All he knows is that you don't want to talk about it and what you do seem to want is him. After prompting you to take some of the weight off your shoulders more than a few times only to be shut down as you instead kissed him and pulled at his clothes, he understood what it was that you needed from him. He gathered you in his arms and carried you to his bed, oh-so careful as he placed you on the edge, nudging himself between your thighs. He has no intentions of having you for himself, his only focus to help you relax. Your sweet, desperate moans as he kisses down your neck are music to his ears, his hands working expertly to shed the clothing that you can't seem to get off of you fast enough. You start to pull at his again, the urge to drown yourself in being together controlling your every move, but his hand gently swats yours away. Not today. His hands hold yours, spreading them out to your sides as he pulls back to look at you. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. The slight slackening of his jaw and the slow motion of his eyes are all anyone would need to know exactly what he's experiencing—awe. The inability to use your hands and the lack of his mouth on your skin suddenly makes you feel as bare as you are, eyes darting to the ground. Jun's hands slowly untangle themselves from yours, gliding up your arms, your shoulders, your neck. He leaves one on the side of your neck while the other inches under your chin, lifting your gaze up to his. "You're too beautiful to hurt this much." His eyes and his tone are unwavering, conveying more sincerity than you've ever felt from anyone. "Let me take care of you," he exhales as his forehead falls against yours, his hand dropping between your legs to give you the relief you came to him for.

Soonyoung: You stand near the edge of your bed, eying the different sets of lingerie you've recently purchased. Which one was the right one for tonight? For the first time ever, you planned to let Hoshi see you fully after dinner. You just wanted him to see you wrapped in a pretty package first. You needed to decide soon. He was just in the other room, lounging on the couch while scrolling on his phone, waiting for you to be ready. He had already mentioned a time or ten that he was starving. You start to reach for a pretty white set with a garter belt when the sound of Hoshi's voice and a door swinging open startles you. "Y/n, are you almost ready? I'm about to die h— WOW!" You jump and spin around to face him, your arms doing what they can to cover yourself. "HOSHI! What the fuck?!" It takes him several seconds too long to correct the situation. Several seconds of him just staring at you like he's stumbled upon something miraculous. "HOSHI!" You yell again and he finally snaps out of it, eyes nervously darting around before he claps his hand over his eyes. "What?! Fuck. I'm sorry! I just— I thought you would be... being naked... in the bathroom!" You can't help but laugh. He looks so cute standing there like a sim, desperately trying to glue his own hand to his face as if it would erase what just happened. Even upon hearing your laugh, he doesn't budge. You speak soothingly as you cross the room to where he stands in the doorway. "It's okay, dummy. You weren't supposed to see me like this until after dinner, but I guess there's nothing we can do about that now, hm?" You press a soft kiss to his lips—one he's not expecting with his absence of vision—and then spin him around gently, pushing him out of your room and closing the door once more so you can actually get dressed this time.

Wonwoo: "Are you sure you're okay with this? Arms up." Wonwoo's voice is so gentle, waiting for your affirmative nod before lifting your shirt from your body. You feel exposed, naturally, but you don't hide from him as he carries on, carefully taking off your bottoms followed by your undergarments. He gives you a onceover and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing your temple, not putting any weight on you being bare before him for the first time. "In you go." And you do, climbing into the warm bath he prepared when you texted that you were almost home. You had called him earlier in the day to complain about how much pressure you were feeling with your workload and, being the darling he is, he wanted to help you destress. He wasn't expecting you to ask him to join you. As you melt into the water, he undresses himself before climbing in behind you, positioning you so that your back rests against his chest. "I've got you." His hushed tone is laced with so much warmth that your eyes flutter closed, not a worry in the world that can bother you now.

Jihoon: You sigh and lean your head back on the armrest of the couch in Jihoon’s studio. It was to be expected that if you met him here, you wouldn’t be able to hold much of his attention, but today is the day you want it the most. Today is the day you feel like you can’t go one more second without having him. A lightbulb springs bright above your head as an idea forms, a knowing smirk playing on your lips. Your gaze floats to the back of his chair, picturing the face you love so perfectly in your mind as you start to undress yourself as quietly as possible. Just the feeling of undressing yourself with him so close yet so unaware is sending wave after wave of heat through your body. You wait until you are completely bare before calling his name in the sweetest voice you can muster. He swivels in his chair right away. “Yes, y/n?” He freezes when his eyes land on you, doubling their size in disbelief. “Y/n! I—” You smile at how startled he is, reveling in his inability to form words at the mere sight of you. “Hmm?” You prompt teasingly. His eyes trail from yours to your toes and back again, maintaining that eye contact as he finally finds the words he has been looking for. “Your body is even more beautiful than I could’ve imagined.” The warmth of your body cocoons your heart then, the sound of wheels rolling towards you creating a bonus sensation—anticipation.

Seokmin: "You were so sweet tonight, Min." Your compliment brings you exactly what you wanted: that bright smile that rivals only the sun. "Me? I didn't do anything special," he muses as he looks at you, curiosity glittering in his eyes. You chuckle as your hands travel up his chest, tilting your head slightly as you steal his gaze with yours. "On the contrary, actually. While everyone else around was trying to undress me with their eyes tonight, you were a perfect gentleman." You can swear you hear him gulp, his newly nervous smile twitching as he tries to formulate what he wants to say. You don't let him. "I know you, though. You did want to look, right? You want to see more?" The bright, assured smile is back in full force as he nods his head, more than happy to admit it. You simply nod and peck his lips before stepping back, your hands smoothing down your stomach and your thighs as a treat for his eyes to follow before you slowly undress yourself for him. You grin as you watch his beautiful doe eyes round in surprise, his bottom lip snug between his teeth. "Whoa. You are so..." He starts, his hands reaching for your waist but hesitating, not sure if touching is a step too far. "How did I get so lucky?" He asks, his voice small, his eyes full of emotion as he looks away from your figure and into your own eyes. It almost hurts how precious he is. You take his hands and place them on your waist, stepping closer so your bare chest is pressed against his clothed one. "If anyone is lucky here, it's me, Min."

Mingyu: Your hands tangle in the back of Mingyu's hair, your body rising and falling in his lap as you seek more of him, your tongue gliding over his for what must be the millionth time in the past ten minutes. Every heavy exhale that leaves his pretty mouth is driving you insane, making you pull at his hair which only makes him groan, continuing the cycle. His hands have been quite polite—too polite. They started on your waist, traveled to the outsides of your thighs where they palmed as much of your thigh as they could, but haven't moved much since. All you've gotten are delicious squeezes and itchy fingers, playing with the hem of your clothes without making any actual move forward. You need more. "Fuck, Gyu," you sigh as you pull back from him, taking a moment to steady yourself as the room spins, the only anchor you've known being Mingyu's strong body and plush lips. He seems to be just as dizzy, his head falling back on the top of the couch cushions, lids low and breath heavy as he smirks at you. He doesn't bother asking what you mean because he knows. He knows he makes you crazy. This time, though, you decide to make him crazy. Without leaving his lap, you maneuver yourself out of your clothes until they're nothing but a pile on the ground, tousling your hair as a bonus. His body is still as his eyes rake over your form all too casually. You let him take his time despite practically vibrating with need in his lap. You yelp when you're caught off-guard by his hands suddenly groping your ass, pulling you firmly against the stiffness in his jeans as he gazes up at you. "You really like me this much, huh?" You don't even need to see the smirk on his face to know it's there.

Minghao: You nervously drop the silken robe wrapping your body to the floor, allowing Minghao to see your body bare for the first time. You had planned this. You wanted him and knew you would have to let him know on your own if you intended on having him. You didn't want him to question whether you were sure or not so you opted for the bold approach. You had been waiting for him to come home and now he was, standing on the other side of the bedroom as you offered yourself to him wordlessly. He doesn't flinch. His face is unmoving aside from his eyes, roaming your body from your toes to your face in what must be slow motion. His lips quirk into a small smirk when his eyes finally meet yours. "What is it, y/n? Do you want something?" He teases, eyes blinking so casually at you it makes your skin burn. Despite his teasing, there's a subtle softness to his gaze, a tint of love.

Seungkwan: You're rolling around in Seungkwan's sheets, both pairs of hands focused on removing all clothing from the opposite body. You're not sure why this exact evening was the one that the tension finally snapped—seemingly at the same time for both of you—but neither of you could seem to stop yourselves from chasing as much physical closeness as humanly possible. Before you even have time to comprehend it, you're completely naked beneath him, his hands gliding over every limb and expanse of your skin, feeling what he's only ever dreamed of before. You sigh happily under his touch, tilting your head back into the mattress as his lips trail across your shoulders before dipping down towards your chest. You can feel yourself tense under him, the anticipation spiking incredibly high, but it melts just as quickly as it built when his mouth abandons your skin. You gasp as you feel his hand slide up the back of your neck, palming the back of your head as he lifts your eyes back to his. A second passes, then two, then three. "You're really perfect everywhere, you know that?" He asks, insisting on your affirmation—in this case, a sweet nod—before he continues on, his mouth fully intent on exploring every inch of your body until the sun comes up.

Vernon: Vernon gazes up at you from his bed, head perched against the backboard as his expression reads both curiosity and amusement. "I'm just saying, you know. We've never seen each other naked and it's starting to make me feel like we're building it up too much and I think that if we continue at this rate, I will just get more and more nervous about it and—" Thankfully, he stops you from rambling on any further. "Y/n." It's all you need to close your mouth, shifting your weight nervously as you can only look at him now and hear what he has to say about your vulnerability. "Let's not build it up any more then, yeah? Let me see you." Oh. You almost protest. You want to say I didn't mean right this second or Hey, what about you? But you don't. Instead, his surprising decisiveness makes you want to do just as he says. And you do. You start undressing yourself where you stand on the other side of the room, feeling like maybe the distance will make you feel less exposed. But once you're done, Vernon pats his lap, not moving an inch from where he lies. "Come here, baby. I want to see you better." You make your way to him on nervous footing, climbing onto his lap and doing everything in your power to resist hiding yourself from him. You've never felt the need to do so before and you're not going to start now. The fond smile on his face does a lot to calm your nerves but you are still buzzing. This is your Vernon. Remember. "You know what you are?" He asks, eyes trained on yours as his thumbs rub into your outer thighs soothingly. "Are you going to say something corny right now? Like let me guess, you were going to say beautiful or something right?" You don't mean to be sassy but you default there when you're nervous. He laughs. "Actually, I was going to say you're my everything." Your face scrunches up and you smack his chest half-heartedly. "Vernon! That's even worse!" He can't help but beam up at you. "Maybe, but you feel better now, don't you?" He's right.

Chan: “We’re so fucking late.” The words rush out of your mouth as you toss the sheets off of you, grabbing for any fresh clothes you can access easily that might make a bit of sense when paired together. Chan rolls around in the bed. It doesn’t appear he plans to get a move on any time soon despite being very late for your brunch plans with your friends. “Chan! Shower. Now.” He groans, covering his eyes with his forearm as if not seeing you will make the situation disappear. You take a deep breath to calm yourself. “Chan, we need to get into the shower. Right now.” You’ve never seen him spring to life so quickly, suddenly on his feet and guiding you towards the bathroom with a hand on the small of your back. “You’re right, we do.” The emphasis in his tone makes you roll your eyes. Of course he’s more focused on the showering together part and not so much on the we’re-really-fucking-late part. The second you’re inside the bathroom, you start peeling off your clothing and he doesn’t hesitate to follow your lead, leaving you both naked in front of each other for the first time in under a minute. The smirk on his face calls for another eye roll from you. “Okay, if you’re done staring, can we just—” You don’t get to finish before he’s teasing you. “Y/n, if you wanted to get me naked so badly, you could’ve just asked~”

#th: svt #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen reactions

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dilf-din · 3 months

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Let Down Your Guard, Lover (Open Your Door)

Rebelcaptain Fluffbruary day 16: neighbor, horse, desire

WC: 11.5k

Warnings: language, alcohol mention, pining idiots

A/N: here’s something to make up for the pain I dropped on Valentine’s Day! This one really got away from me. I hope you guys enjoy it!! I’ll try to have this cross posted on AO3 later tonight 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Day 1

Everything smelled like dust and sweat. A thick summer heat made the air feel as stagnant as it was stale. Even with the windows in the living room opened to the twilight sky, there was no wind to stir it around.

Jyn sank against a pile of boxes with two cold beers in her hands, offering one to Bodhi who gladly took it. Their foreheads were damp, long strands of dark hair plastered to each one.

“Well, we did it,” Bodhi said, still cheerful somehow.

All of Jyn’s cheer had bottomed out by their fifth trip up the narrow staircase and had yet to return.

“Thanks for all your help.”

“I’m just glad to have my best mate in my favorite city,” he smiled back, pressing the bottle to his lips and taking a long drink.

Jyn picked at the peeling wrapper with what was left of her nails. They had been chewed down to uneven nubs during the process of agonizing over checking and double checking every mental and physical list she had accumulated before packing up her small life and moving across an entire ocean. She and Bodhi had met years ago in a Uni exchange program. He had come to stay with her and her uncles for a term, and they became fast friends.

He checked his watch and sighed, “I’ve got an early morning. Think you’ll be alright?” he asked, pushing himself off the ground and offering her a hand.

She took it and hoisted herself up next to him.

“I’ll be fine. Just gonna shower and deal with this mess in the morning.”

He gave her a quick high five and let himself out the front door.

Jyn sighed and took a moment to really take in her space. Her first apartment.

The wooden floors had deep dings in them from decades of use, and nail holes had been sloppily plastered over leaving uneven textures on almost every sickly white wall. It was clinical and old, but it was hers.

Every room had wide windows that let immeasurable amounts of light in and looked down on the crowded streets. Her new bed had been delivered today, and she and Bodhi had even picked up a black velvet couch from someone on Facebook marketplace earlier that day. Jyn had a few pieces of furniture, a few pots and pans, a few mismatched plates, and a deep well of hope for the future.

Her stomach let out a low growl, and she decided to phone in a pizza from the place that had been eying them from across the street during their seemingly endless trips up to her flat. She also decided to fish out her bedsheets and some fresh clothes while she waited, shuffling through the towers of boxes and cursing herself for not labeling them more clearly.

Jyn showered in lukewarm water, washing away the sweat and grime that clung to her. The air here felt thicker than it did in London, like a second skin she had yet to get used to. She swiped a clear spot in the steamed up, segmented mirror and tried her best to detangle her hair before piling it on top of her head in a haphazard, still too wet bun. For clothes, she had fished out an old pair of cotton sweats and a navy shirt with her uni’s name across the chest in thick white lettering. It was a little short on her from a washing mishap her second year, but she was too fond of it to toss it just yet.

A soft knock hit her ears from the front room, the empty walls carrying it to where she stood in her bedroom.

“Coming!” she called out to who she assumed was the pizza guy as she hurried across the gritty floor and regretted not pulling on a pair of socks.

She pulled the door open and was face to face with a shy looking man with deep brown eyes. In his hands was her pizza box.

“Um, hi. I’m your neighbor. They delivered this to our place, but we didn’t order it,” he awkwardly held the box out for Jyn to take.

“Oh bollocks. I must’ve told them your number by mistake, sorry. I just moved in. You probably heard me fighting with the elevator this afternoon.”

He chuckled but didn’t respond, a small smile gracing his lips. He had hair almost the same color as his eyes dancing just beyond his ears and curling around the nape of his neck.

“Well thanks. I’m Jyn,” she smiled.

“Cassian.”

They shared a moment of unwavering eye contact, only breaking it when another tenant on the hall hurried out of their door, excusing themself as they squeezed behind the pair.

“Right, well. I’m gonna go eat this I guess.”

Cassian nodded, “Welcome home. It’s a pretty wacky neighborhood, but we try to take care of each other. We’re just next door if you need anything,” he gave another small smile and a half wave of his hand.

Jyn smiled and closed the door behind her, her attention almost immediately going back to the pizza as her stomach let out another noise like a sad cat.

In the hallway, Cassian became alarmingly aware of the pace of his heart and the sweat that was coating his palms. He wiped them quickly on his jeans and headed back into his apartment. Meshi was perched at the counter with his feet tucked under a stool. He didn’t look away from his computer screen as he heard his roommate re-enter their home.

“All good?”

“Yeah,” he smiled dreamily, sliding off his slippers and nudging them next to the shoe rack that sat by the entryway, “All good.”

Day 2

“Shit,” Jyn hissed looking at the half assembled coffee table and the snapped off piece of metal hanging from one of the screw holes. “Shit. Shit,” she leaned back on her legs and braced herself with her hands tapping the ground in thought.

Cassian had said to ask if she needed anything, and not that she was looking for an excuse to see him or anything, but she thought this definitely qualified. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to ask.

She brushed the dust off of the front of her jeans and slipped on a pair of sandals before exiting her door and approaching the one right next to it. Jyn smiled at the welcome mat they had placed in front of their entryway. A little faded, but a nice, warm touch nonetheless.

She knocked and stepped back to wait, suddenly feeling less bold.

The door opened quickly, but she was met with a man who wasn’t Cassian. He had much shorter hair and a bit of a confused look on his face.

“Hi, um, I’m Jyn. Your new neighbor?”

His eyebrows softened with a knowing look.

“Do you by chance have an allen wrench I could borrow? Mine cracked off in my bookcase,” she said pathetically holding up what remained of the handle.

The man chuckled and invited her in, “Sure, just one second.”

She crossed the threshold and stood in the doorway trying to take in as much as she could without looking too curious. Everything was more neat than you would expect for two men in their twenties. Not a book out of place, not a dish in the sink.

In the living space, the curtains were neatly drawn, and there were even some throw pillows on the sofa. The kitchen counter was spread with folders and pens next to an open laptop, and she guessed that Cassian’s roommate worked from home. And judging from his high and tight faded haircut, she reasoned he was ex military and at least part of the reason for the flat’s pristine condition.

The man had crossed over to the kitchen to rummage through a drawer.

“Cassian’s at work today. I’ll let him know you stopped by.”

“No need,” she said quickly, “Just needed to borrow this,” she hoped he wouldn’t notice the pink that was teasing at her cheeks.

“I’ll do ya one better. You can keep it”, he smiled, crossing the space once more to place the small tool her hand, “Name’s Melshi, by the way.”

“Melshi,” she repeated, “Well thank you, Melshi. I appreciate the kindness.”

He nodded and smiled as she let herself back out the door and into her own apartment.

Day 12

It was a while before Jyn and Cassian saw each other again. She started to wonder if he really existed, or if he was just a perfect figment of her imagination.

Imagination. She had to remind herself that she didn’t know anything about him, and that getting to know him as a friend was the best course of action. She had spent a lot of time her first two weeks wound up in daydreams about the boy next door with the dark hair, so she decided to make an excuse to see him.

The rotting bananas on her counter were begging to either be thrown in the bin or turned into a bread. So she went with the latter option and decided to add in some cinnamon and walnuts. Jyn had never been one for cooking. She learned enough to get by in Uni and resorted to ordering takeout whenever possible, but how hard could banana bread be?

She quickly prepared the batter and poured it into the two dingy loaf pans she had inherited from her mother. They were dull in color and covered in small dings on the inside and outside, but it was one of the few things Jyn had left of her, so she couldn’t bring herself to part with them even if they didn’t get used very often.

While the bread baked and filled her flat with the sweet smell of cinnamon, she put one of her dad’s old records on to play while she cleaned the mess in the kitchen. Humming to herself softly, she scrubbed each dirtied dish, wiped the counters, and even emptied the overflowing bin.

It was a Friday evening nearing dinner time, so Jyn decided to let the bread cool and bring it over first thing in the morning. She heard what she was pretty sure were two voices through the brick wall of her living room and hoped that Cassian would still be there in the morning.

Just as she was beginning to wonder about her dinner plans, her phone buzzed from the kitchen counter. It was Bodhi.

“Hello there!”

“Jyn! What are you doing for dinner?”

“Nothing yet, I just realized how late it was.”

“Want to order some Chinese? I’m at the video store up the road to try and snatch a copy of the new Conjuring.”

Jyn smiled, “I’ll phone it in.”

She ended the call and pulled the menu to the nearest Chinese spot off of the fridge where it hung with a faded snoopy magnet from her childhood.

Bodhi arrived about the same time as the food, quickly filling her in on all of the latest drama from the office. Jyn would be joining him in a data analysis role come Monday, but the way he had talked to her for years about his coworkers made her feel like she already knew everyone.

She listened to his stories complete with enthusiastic hand gestures and couldn’t help but laugh. Neither one of them noticed that they hadn’t paid a second of attention to the horrific goings-on of the movie on her small tv. The food in front of them was picked at until not much was left but some lo mein and a few egg rolls. The credits had long rolled when Bodhi checked the time, “Geez, almost eleven. Want me to help you clean up?”

Jyn shrugged him off, “Just got a few boxes to toss in the fridge. You’re good, Bo,” she smiled.

The clattering of plates stacking told her he had intended to help no matter the answer.

“What’s this?” he called from the kitchen.

She turned to see him gesturing at the two loaves of bread on the cooling rack.

“Oh, just some banana bread.”

“But you can’t cook.”

“Shut up!”

“Why two?”

“One’s for the neighbors.”

“For the guy?” Bodhi suddenly seemed very interested, “I thought you wanted him to like you, not die of food poisoning.”

“Shut up,” she repeated, crossing the space to defend herself. “It’s just banana bread. An idiot could make it.”

“Let’s hope that luck came through for you,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Good night Bo,” she said pointing at the door with an annoyed but fond smile.

Day 13

Jyn paced back and forth in her entryway for several minutes trying to garner up the courage it would take to walk twenty feet to the right to knock on their door. It was half past nine, which felt like a reasonable enough hour to drop off a late morning treat on a Saturday. She took a deep breath and knocked, shifting back and forth on her heels, trying desperately to get all her nervous energy out before someone, hopefully Cassian opened the door.

After several seconds, there were no signs of life. She knocked once more and almost instantly regretted it when she heard a muffled voice call that they were coming.

The door opened to a very disheveled looking Cassian who must’ve rolled out of bed to answer her knock. His eyes were still heavy with sleep and his long hair was sticking up at angles that Jyn would’ve never thought possible. He was wearing faded blue plaid pajama pants and the softest grey tee shirt she had ever seen.

“Hi, so sorry. I um, I made some banana bread last night and thought you guys might like some,” she stammered suddenly feeling like crawling under their welcome mat and hiding.

She held the plate out awkwardly and turned to leave, but Cassian grabbed her wrist with a gentle hand.

“I love banana bread”, he said with a sincere smile, “Come in for a cup of coffee?”

“But I already woke you,” she said regretfully.

“I needed to wake up anyway,” he shrugged it off, inviting her in with a sweeping motion of his arm.

“We stayed up too late playing a game last night,” he admitted a little shyly, a chuckle spilling out of his upturned lips.

Jyn took in the state of their living area. The previously tidy space had been overtaken with a game board, dozens of cards and small tokens, a stack of empty pizza boxes, and some notebooks with scribbles in them tossed in the floor.

She smiled at the thought of them staying in on a Friday night to a rousing game of, whatever that was, as opposed to going out for drinks or dates. She had also noticed during her other brief visit that none of their pictures seemed to show a long term girlfriend (or boyfriend), and she counted that as another quiet victory.

Cassian had made his way into the kitchen, bare feet softly padding against the tiles. He moved quietly and surely, pulling out a bag of freshly ground beans from a local spot and filling a long necked kettle with water. The click of the gas igniting was the only noise in the room as he placed the kettle on the stove before turning to face Jyn once more. It was a comfortable silence, and she started to wonder why she had been so in her head about seeing him again. She pulled out a stool to sit at the counter opposite him and was the first to speak again.

“So, wild night?” she teased, leaning an elbow on the counter and cupping her chin.

He smiled shyly and looked down at the floor before meeting her gaze again, “Same thing we’ve done every weekend since college. Neither of us have ever been big party guys.”

“I was a wreck in uni,” she said wrinkling her nose.

“Were you now?”

“Well you know, lower drinking age and all that.”

“Sounds like you could give me a run for my money,” he laughed.

“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of,” she raised an eyebrow and flashed a smile to match his.

“How did you end up here?” he turned to continue preparing the coffee, wetting a filter and placing it in the top of pristine chemex.

Jyn puffed out a breath of air while her mind spun, trying to summarize the last few months of her life.

“I was just ready to get out of London, so a friend put in a word for me at their office. And before I knew it I was on a plane and shopping for hand towels and lugging a heavy arse couch up a way too narrow stairwell,” she paused, “It all happened rather quickly. I’m still getting used to the time difference. I’m not usually an early riser.”

“A party girl like you?” he asked in mock surprise.

Jyn laughed, bright and clear showing all of her teeth, and Cassian’s heart skipped two beats. This conversation was quickly becoming a game to him of seeing if he could get her to laugh like that again.

“Well we can’t all be Monopoly jockeys,” she quipped.

“Hey now, Rivals for Catan is much more sophisticated than Monopoly, but I could easily beat you at Monopoly as well,” he countered.

They went back and forth, gliding through conversation topics like seasoned dance partners. Picking up where the other left off, following each other’s feet without ever breaking eye contact. It felt effortless, like how talking to someone you’ve known your whole life would. The kind of friend you stayed up whispering secrets under the covers in a twin bed with, laughing till you felt it in your ribs.

Jyn was mesmerized watching him work with his hands while he talked, carefully portioning out coffee grounds, adding bit by bit of water and taking the time to inhale as it bloomed and filled the kitchen with a warm, rich scent. Cassian seemed like a person who was full to the brim with passion for everything he touched. Jyn could tell he liked to put his whole heart into things. He didn’t seem fast paced and half assed like so many people she had met. Even the way he listened was completely engaged as they swapped stories of professors and classes and horrible group projects.

Cassian picked two mugs from the cabinet to the left of the stove and placed them on the counter in front of Jyn. One looked like a tourist mug from the Statue of Liberty, and the other was shaped like Darth Vader’s helmet. Jyn smiled at the little pieces of his life she was getting a glimpse of, and reached out eager hands for the Statue of Liberty one while he poured a golden brown stream into it, not nearly as warm as his eyes were when they caught a shot of the sun.

Cassian leaned against the counter and took a thoughtful sip from the remaining mug.

“Colombian,” he smiled, “One of my favorites.”

“Would it be a crime to ask for a spot of cream?” Jyn asked hiding her nose behind her mug.

“Ugh, you’re one of those people,” he feigned a chest pain, clutching at his shirt with his free hand.

“What, a normal person?” Melshi’s voice called groggily as he exited his room and joined the pair at the counter. His accent was extra thick in the morning, the sounds of his vowels were particularly drawn out.

He crossed to the fridge and pulled out a white and blue canister and offered it to Jyn, “Almond milk okay?”

“Yes, please,” she smiled gratefully, popping the top open with her thumbnail and dumping in a generous amount.

“Cass is a coffee snob. Don’t let it get to you,” Melshi smiled.

“Jyn brought banana bread,” Cassian gestured to the plastic wrapped plate on the edge of the counter.

“You can stay,” he said eagerly reaching for a stack of plates and forks.

“Oh no, I’m good. I have a whole loaf in my flat waiting for me,” she said declining the offer for a slice while the boys carved into it.

As they were taking their first bites, the watch on Jyn’s arm buzzed a tinny tune.

“Shoot, I’ve got to go give Lady her walk. Thank you for the coffee,” she drained the last of her cup and walked by them to set it in the sink.

“See you around. You’ll have to come over for game night one of these weeks,” Cassian called as she let herself to the door.

“I’d like that,” she smiled, giving a small wave before disappearing back into the hall.

Melshi waited until the lock clicked and spit a mouthful of bread directly into the trash can.

“Oh my god, what did she do to that?”

“It’s not that bad,” Cassian said completely unconvincingly.

Melshi wiped his mouth with a paper towel and scraped the rest of his slice into the trash, “Oh you’ve got it bad.”

“Whatever man,” he looked down at the plate of bread that was somehow impossibly wet and dry at the same time.

Melshi grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it as he laughed on his way to the bathroom.

Day 14

Sunday came with steady drizzles and low thunder. Not enough rain to flood the busy roads, but enough to make sure the bottoms of your pants were always wet. Puddles of grey water filled each crack and uneven spot in the pavement, rolling off of Jyn’s rubber boots, but sticking to Lady’s white fur.

Jyn didn’t mind the dreary weather. Lord knows London was rainy enough for a lifetime. She liked to imagine she was in a film scene, that she would stumble into the love of her life in a downpour. Maybe they would share an umbrella or squeeze in together at a bus stop. Maybe she would drop something and they would bump heads leaning down to pick it up. The cold air coming on definitely brought out the side of her that longed to cuddle up by the fire with someone.

She was still learning the area and definitely took a wrong turn or two on the way back to their building, but Lady didn’t mind the extra steps, though she was sure to take a long nap as a reward after the pair dried off.

Jyn decided to stop and check the mail room before heading up to her floor. She was expecting a package from her uncles of some tea and goodies. The key stuck multiple times in the stripped lock, and the hinges creaked loudly telling stories of years of use. With a smile on her face she plucked the brown box out and looked at her uncle Chirrut’s scrawling font addressing the package to her.

“Jyn?”

The call of her name pulled her attention to the door, and she quickly shut the small locker.

Cassian stood behind her with some bags in hand and his hood up. Specks of rain dotted his shoulders and the tip of his nose.

Lady gave a low growl and Jyn shushed her.

“I thought you had a dog not a horse,” he said with a small laugh, trying to mask his nervousness.

“She’s a Great Dane,” Jyn said with a toothy grin.

Lady came up to Jyn’s ribs. She had stark white fur with smoky grey markings and drooping red eyes, and she was sporting a yellow raincoat that covered part of her front legs and secured around her middle. Cassian had never seen an animal so huge.

“She’s very friendly,” Jyn assured.

Lady’s demeanor softened as she noticed Jyn talking to the stranger as if he was a friend. She pushed her big wet nose and towards Cassian’s hand to get a better whiff of his scent, but he retracted it quickly.

“She’s pretty,” he stammered, “Well I won’t keep you,” he nodded and backed out of the room.

“Wait, we’ll go up with you,” she followed him to the elevators.

He shifted the bags in his hand to call an elevator down and they stood in wait. Jyn almost thought she saw his hand shake as he reached out to push the button, but she wrote it off.

“Feels like home when the weather’s like this,” she remarked and he nodded.

“You just missed the snowy season. It should be pretty mild the rest of the year.”

The elevator gave a deep, faintly buzzing beep as the set of doors to the right opened up to let them in.

There was barely enough room for the three of them. Cassian swallowed hard as Lady stood between them, his skin pricking beneath his jeans from where he felt her fur brush up against them.

Jyn made a few more remarks about the weather and their walk that he barely registered as he prayed for the climb to go faster. When the doors finally opened, he rushed off, apologizing over his shoulder for leaving so quickly.

Jyn wondered if he was okay, watching as he dropped his key ring clumsily and fumbled with his door handle.

“I didn’t say anything weird, did I?” she asked out loud, mostly to herself. Lady cocked her head and followed her to their doorstep.

Day 26

Cassian had stopped by a few nights prior to invite Jyn to game night. She had offered to bake some cookies, to which he quickly declined and assured her that they would provide all the food.

She had been buzzing about it to Bodhi for days, and now that the evening was here, she was curled up with a flu. Her skin was a sickly shade of grey, and sweat coated her entire body while she simultaneously shook from chills. She had extra blankets piled on, but just a sports bra and sleep shorts on beneath the cocoon to try and even out her temperature.

A glass of tepid water sat untouched on the table beside her, the only thing she had had the strength to get on one of her trips to the restroom. She laid defeated, her mind in a thick fog and her body heavy with fatigue.

Bodhi had left work early yesterday for a long weekend upstate with his boyfriend, so she was left to her own devices. Hopefully it was something she could sleep off in 48 hours and crawl back into work on Monday, good as new.

She had spent the entire day in a fever dream trance, slipping in and out of consciousness, reliving some of her worst moments on repeat. She saw her parents, and longed for the cool touch of her mother’s hand on the burning skin of her cheeks and forehead, dreamed of the way her father had fed her soup when she was younger and unable to hold the spoon on her own. The ache of her heart rang loudest of all as her body groaned beneath the weight of whatever virus had laid claim to her cells.

——

Cassian checked the clock obsessively, wondering what might’ve held Jyn up. It was nearing eight o’clock, and he wondered if maybe she got stuck at work, or if something worse had happened.

“It’s all right, mate. I’m sure she’s got a good reason,” Meshi said softly, feeling too bad for his friend to even tease him.

They ended up watching Back to the Future and working their way through two large pizzas instead of introducing Jyn to the world of Catan, but in the back of his mind, Cassian couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Day 27

Cassian woke early on Saturday morning to a noise he couldn’t quite identify. It sounded like scratching at the front door, thick nails against wood over and over. In a sleepy haze, he tried to decipher what it could be, when he heard a high pitched whine.

“Is that a dog?” he asked out loud, as he kicked off his covers and exited his room to find an equally tired looking Melshi heading towards the front door.

The pair opened the door to find none other than Lady, Jyn’s Great Dane standing at their door looking particularly distressed.

“Lady? Is everything okay?” Cassian asked cautiously, stepping out into the hallway, only for the large dog to bound back towards the open door of Jyn’s flat and whine anxiously.

Seeing the door wide open made his stomach drop, and he rushed after the dog with Melshi close behind him. There were claw marks on the door frame and next to the knob. It must’ve taken her a while to get it open. All the lights were off and everything seemed tidy at first glance. He quickly ruled out a break in, and tried to figure out what was wrong.

Lady led them into the kitchen and nosed at her empty food and water bowls before stopping in the hall and huffing in the direction of the bedroom. Cassian walked past her and peered in the doorway to see what he thought was Jyn, wrapped in blankets and shivering violently. He checked the thermostat outside her door to see it was set way too low for this time of year and switched the heat on.

“Jyn?” he asked quietly.

“Hello?” she called back fearfully through chattering teeth.

“It’s me. Cassian,” he entered slowly and knelt by her bed.

Her eyes were glassy and skin damp with sweat, with hair mussed and matted on her forehead.

“Lady came to get us,” he explained softly, “How long have you been sick?”

“Yesterday morning,” she mumbled, drawing the blankets around her small frame, trembling.

Melshi poked his head through the door, “I’m gonna take the lass out to wee. Looks like she held it as long as she could, just cleaned up a spot in the kitchen.”

“Can you pick up some medicine? And soup?” Cassian asked quickly, “My wallet is on the counter.”

“Sure thing,” he nodded and retreated down the hall.

“I’ll be right back,” Cassian said, laying his hand on top of hers for just a second.

The space was already heating up. He checked the vents to make sure warm air was pouring out, pleased that her unit was still functional as sometimes theirs was spotty in the winter. In the kitchen, he filled a kettle and set it out, hoping Melshi would think to get some tea, then grabbed a rag and wet it, and poured a new glass of water.

Cassian crouched back by her bed and wiped at her forehead with the rag. He carefully cleaned her face, washing it of the dried on sweat, and smoothed her bangs back. She looked at him with thankful eyes, as green as ever, but missing the fire he noticed the first time they met.

“Can you drink some water for me?” he asked softly and she shook her head.

“C’mon, we can’t have you getting dehydrated.”

“Stomach hurts,” she muttered.

“Just a bit,” he pleaded, reaching his hand out to rest between her shoulders and prop her up enough to take a few sips of the glass he was holding out.

When she was done, she hit the pillow hard and another round of chills ran down her spine from the temperature of the water.

Cassian leaned back on his heels and pulled his hoodie off in one motion.

“Here,” he said offering it to her, not wanting to dig through her closet or intrude any more than he had to, knowing it would help to warm her up.

She reluctantly unwound herself from the blankets and pulled the hoodie over her head.

“Do you have another set of sheets?” he asked.

“Closet,” she pointed to the door in the hall.

He grabbed a fresh set of navy blue sheets and an extra quilt and exchanged them for the old ones he had found her in. Even with the hoodie that was still warm and smelled quite a bit like him, her body continued to shake.

“Hold me?” she asked in an impossibly small voice.

Cassian swallowed hard, “Of course, yeah.” He walked to the other side of her bed and scooted the quilt a little closer to her, not crawling beneath it though he desperately wanted to. The mattress sank beneath his added weight and the metal frame creaked as he adjusted his limbs and rolled onto his side, tucking himself around her. He pulled the lump of blankets against his chest and tentatively draped his arm around her waist. She pressed back into him, desperate to share the warmth of his body. The back of her head tucked under his chin, the hood was still pulled up cocooning her. He nuzzled his nose into the it slightly as he closed his eyes and willed her to stop shaking.

It wasn’t until this moment that he allowed himself to exhale. Being woken up by a horse sized dog and walking up to her door wide open had sent his heart into a panic that he had shoved down, not wanting to lose his cool and compromise whatever situation it was that she was in. He had felt a twinge in his gut since last night, like he knew she needed him.

“I got you,” he whispered against the hood on her head.

Jyn’s breathing steadied, and exhaustion overcame her. Within two minutes, she was open mouth snoring, just a small growl coming from the back of her throat as she slept in his arms.

Cassian thanked whatever god might be listening that she was safe in his arms right now. He didn’t know much about her at all, and definitely wasn’t familiar with her sleeping habits, so he did his best to stay as still as possible. Just deep breaths and a heartbeat against her back, no matter how badly he wanted to trace her arms, wipe her bangs from her forehead, press a kiss to her shoulders. From the clock on her night table, he could tell about an hour had passed since they first arrived when he heard Melshi and Lady come back through the front door.

He heard the clack of Lady’s nails on the wood floor and the clink of her leash hitting the kitchen counter when Melshi laid it down. Then, he heard kibble filling her bowl and the rush of water from the tap. There was a rustling of bags as well as he heard Melshi sorting through everything. Then the floor creaking slightly as his friend made his way down the hall.

He peeked into the room, face softening when he saw the sleeping girl in Cassian’s arms.

“Food?” he mouthed.

“Not yet,” Cassian mouthed back.

Melshi gave him a thumbs up and let himself back into the rest of the apartment. He decided to watch some tv with Lady until Jyn woke up, then they would both probably head back to their own flat for the day.

Cassian felt his body relaxing against hers. It wasn’t yet eight o’clock. Lady had woken them up almost two hours ago which was early on a weekend for him. His eyes grew heavier from their shared warmth and proximity, and he allowed himself the reverie of imagining this would one day be how they always woke up. Early Saturday sunlight, hazy feeling of love.

——

When he felt Jyn stirring in his arms, he peeked at the clock to see it nearing ten. Jyn rotated to where she was now facing him. Lips parted, breathing softly against his cheek. He felt his own breath hitch at the sight of her. Even sick, she was breathtaking. He drank in this moment greedily, knowing any minute now, she would wake, and he would be apart from her again. Now that he had known proximity, distance would never do. He craved the nearness of her orbit, to know the touch of her mouth against his. He suddenly felt like he needed to take a cold shower and jumped from his spot next to her, exiting the room as quietly as he could.

He closed the bathroom door behind himself and splashed cold water on his face. His cheeks were flushed with desire, and he hated himself for not being able to swallow it down. She was sick, that was all. He wouldn’t be in this situation if she wasn’t vulnerable, if she wasn’t in need.

Cassian gripped the sides of the sink tightly, doing his best to steady his breathing and rein in his thoughts. This wasn’t the time or place to be having these feelings. He switched back into caretaker mode and headed into the kitchen to see what Melshi had brought back from his outing.

“Matzo ball soup in the fridge, NyQuil on the counter, oh, and I got some Gatorade,” he called from the couch where lady was sprawled with her head in his lap.

“Perfect, thank you,” Cassian responded, opening her cabinets in search of a pot to reheat the soup in.

“Enjoy your nap, lover boy?” Melshi asked with a small quirk of a smile.

“Shut up,” Cassian, turned to face the stove, hoping to hide the heat in his cheeks.

“What? You look good together is all I’m saying.”

Cassian ignored his comment, dumping the soup from the plastic container it came in into a small saucepan and finally putting on the kettle he had filled earlier.

“Is she up?”

“No, but I think she will be soon. I heard her stomach growling. I’m not sure when the last time she ate was.”

“We’ll get her set up and head on back. I can stop by and let Lady girl out again later.”

“I’ll probably stay a while if she wants,” Cass called back, crossing his arms over his middle and leaning back against the counter while he waited for everything to heat up.

Melshi decided not to comment, and instead just smiled at the large dog in his lap, turning his attention back to the local news that was droning in the background.

——

Jyn woke to a pounding headache. The sun streaming in through her drapeless windows stung her eyes as she tried to piece together the last 24 hours with blurry vision. She buried her face in the hoodie and breathed deep. Everything came trickling in like a gentle stream. Cassian. The sound of his voice. The softness of his eyes. The feel of his arms around her. She felt lightheaded. Maybe it was the sickness, but maybe it was him.

She struggled to a sitting position and ran her hands through her hair. A warm shower later would help her to feel almost human, but she didn’t have the strength for that just yet. She pulled a pair of leggings off the pile in her chair and labored to pull them over her bare legs before padding down the hall, leaning against the wall for support.

Lady scrambled across the living room when she heard Jyn groan softly, drawing Cassian’s attention to the edge of the kitchen.

“Hi girl,” Jyn said with a small voice, a weak hand reaching to stroke Lady’s face while she wagged gently and pressed her nose into Jyn’s stomach.

Cassian felt like he had the wind knocked out of him seeing her standing there in his hoodie dwarfing her frame. The sleeves fell way past her hands, and the hem hung below her hips where it rested smugly above his. She looked like she was about to keel over, and he ducked under her arm just in time to give her more support.

“You shouldn’t be up walking around,” he chastised.

“I’m hungry,” she grumbled softly. All of her weight rested against his chest as she leaned her head in and closed her eyes.

He scooped her up with ease and carried her across the rest of the flat to the couch. Melshi was rearranging the cushions and holding up a blanket to drape over her while Cassian nestled her into the warm spot that his friend had been sitting in.

“Thank you,” she said with a small smile.

Jyn hated needing people. She loathed feeling helpless or inept, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t thankful to have someone there with her when the prior night she had been quite certain she was dying.

The boys scooted the table closer to the sofa and set her up with everything she could need. There was a steaming bowl of soup, two DayQuil tablets next to a glass of water, a bottle of juice Melshi had picked up from the deli, and a sleeve of crackers.

After about half a bowl of soup, she started to perk up a little bit, her body thankful to have energy again. She then placed the two orange pills on her tongue and swallowed them down with greedy gulps of juice. The pallor of her skin started to fade back into her normal coloring.

“Wait, so how did you get in?” she asked again, her brow furrowed tightly as she listened to the pair recount the story from that morning.

“My dog came to get you?” she asked skeptically.

“Swear on my life,” Melshi laughed.

“I felt so bad that I couldn’t take her out. I didn’t know who to call,” she lamented, reaching out to pet Lady’s head which was perched on the edge of the couch keeping a watchful eye on Jyn.

“She and I are great friends now,” Melshi smiled cheekily, “I don’t mind helping out with her while you’re on the mend.”

“Thank you,” Jyn smiled, suddenly feeling the weight of sleep overcome her again.

“I think I’m going to take another nap.”

“We’ll get out of your hair then,” Melshi announced, clearing the dishes from in front of her and carrying them to the kitchen.

Cassian didn’t feel right leaving just yet, and decided to listen to his gut like he should’ve last night.

“I’ll stay a little while longer if you don’t mind,” he said with a small smile.

Jyn gave him a dopey smile of her own as she sunk back into the pillow nest they had made for her, “I’d like that.”

Cassian rose to meet Melshi at the door, “I’ll be there in a minute,” he said in a low voice.

“Yeah yeah, Romeo,” Melshi muttered with a wink.

Cassian rolled his eyes and locked the door behind Melshi.

“Do you want me to help you to bed?” he asked, taking a seat next to her and feeling her forehead with the back of his hand to check for a fever. She leaned into the touch and closed her eyes, lamenting that she wouldn’t be sick forever and soon this attention would end.

“Just stay close,” she asked quietly, nestling her pillow against his thigh and pulling the blanket up to her neck. Her body buzzed with warmth from the combination of food, medication, and affection.

Cassian reached a tentative hand down and smoothed it through her hair. The side of her cheek turned up in a smile, and he took it as permission to keep going. His fingers ran along her scalp, separating out tangled strands of hair and brushing through them. Just as quickly as she had fallen asleep this morning, she was softly snoring again, relishing in the gentle touches he was offering her. She wanted to reach out with greedy hands and take every bit she could. She felt like a kid seeing a piñata burst for the first time, taking every bit for herself. But the rational part of her reminded her to pace herself, reminded her there was time. Time to know him. Time to be known.

She dozed in and out for a few hours, just content for her body and mind to be at rest. Cassian stayed beside her like a sentinel, strong arm resting down around her shoulder and cupping her elbow. His thumb absentmindedly rubbed circles over the sharp bone.

At one point she head the low timbre of his voice speaking softly to Lady. She kept her eyes closed, but listened closely to his words.

“You were a very brave girl this morning, you know that? Taking care of your mom like that. Smart girl,” he praised gently.

Though he had previously been apprehensive of her, she quickly proved that his old fears were not a good metric to judge people, or animals, by.

He looked fondly at the sleeping girl next to him and started to open himself up to the possibility of future days spent in each other’s company. Maybe he wouldn’t always wake at night clutching his chest, aching desperately for the things he lost. Maybe he wouldn’t always be waiting for the other shoe drop, because maybe, this time, there was no other shoe.

Day 37

That weekend came and went and so did a whole other week before Jyn really started feeling like herself. It took a while for her appetite to come back and for the fatigue to really let go of its grip on her.

Just the simple act of riding the train to and from work in the mornings and evenings depleted all of her extra energy. Her flat was in desperate need of a cleaning, and all of her messages were going unanswered. It wasn’t until she was finally folding a pile of laundry that had grown nearly as tall as her that she fully caught Bodhi up on the weekend he had been away.

Her phone sat on the edge of her bed, his incredulous voice coming through the speaker.

“He gave you his hoodie? He stayed to watch while you slept? He walked your giant dog that he definitely does not like? Babes, he likes you.”

“He does not. He was just being a good friend,” she scoffed as she turned the arms of his hoodie the right way and laid it across her lap. She hadn’t wanted to wash it and lose what was left of his scent, but she knew she couldn’t keep it covered in her germs forever. The last thing she wanted was to get one of them sick again. Her arms almost moved to pull it on over her old tee shirt, but she stopped herself. It was best to give it back to him, to not get caught up in a runway fantasy where he was her boyfriend come to save her.

She didn’t need saving, but she did need looking after sometimes, and she would be lying to herself is she said she didn’t wish he was the one to look after her.

——

“C’mon Jyn, you stupid girl,” Jyn chastised herself in the mirror. She had been laboring over a text to Cassian for two hours. Two. Hours. Staring at a phone screen and fretting about wording and whether or not to use emojis.

“It’s just a text message,” she reminded herself as her thumb hovered over the send key before pressing it with a sharp inhale.

Hey Cassian, I was wondering if you would like to join me for dinner tomorrow just to say thanks for everything. 7 o’clock at Barbuto. Let me know.

He replied almost immediately, causing her to fumble with her phone when she saw the bubbles indicating he was typing.

Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll be there :)

“Fuck yeah,” she whispered to herself, doing a little dance in her bathroom, unknowing that he was on the other side of the wall pumping his fist in the air.

Day 38

There was never a stage of her life where Jyn enjoyed dressing up. Not for her father’s achievement dinners when she was a child, not in uni for formals, and not now, getting ready for a semi kind of date with the boy who took her breath away. She just felt more herself dressed down in a casual setting. Fancy restaurants were too high stakes for someone who swore as much as she did. But still, she pulled on her one nice dress and a pair of boots with a small heel. She fluffed out her bangs to make sure they were even, and even attempted a basic smoky eye. Her old roommate taught her the beauty of smudging everything and making it look intentional rather than messy.

When she was in her taxi on the way to the restaurant, she began to wonder whether or not they just should’ve rode together. That would’ve made sense, but what if it was awkward? Suddenly, a barrage of doubts started ringing in her ears while she glanced at the time nervously. She woas somehow early and would therefore have plenty of time to rethink every decision she had ever made while she waited for Cassian.

She ordered a gin and tonic at the bar while she waited for her table to be ready, hoping a small buzz would calm her nerves. One drink turned into two and then three as she waited and waited with no word from Cassian.

The waiter approached with a sympathetic smile, “Would you like to order anything, miss?”

“No, sorry. You can pass it on to someone else who actually cares enough to show up,” she said with an air of bitterness, fishing in her wallet for a pile of cash and leaving it on the table. She tipped back her glass and finished the last of her drink, ice clinking loudly as she set it back down unceremoniously.

Jyn staggered out of the restaurant, half hatred, half alcohol, completely embarrassed. She felt like a fool for thinking the story could end any way but this.

When she entered her flat again for the evening, she beelined straight for her bedroom to scrawl a message on a pink sticky note. With a slap, she stuck it to the front of Cassian’s hoodie, and marched it to their doorstep, leaving it for him to find whenever he made it back from whatever was clearly better than spending an evening with her.

Back inside for good this time, she peeled her boots off by the door and almost broke the zipper on her dress from yanking it down her side so hard. She wet a rag and tried to scrub the makeup from her eyes, ending up looking like an even more pathetic drunk girl with every swipe. With eyeliner still smudged beneath her tearful eyes, she pulled on a pair of sweatpants and an old tee shirt, and resigned herself to the couch. She checked her phone one last time to see still no text from Cassian, and threw it on the table, finally breaking down. The tears spilled eagerly down her face, big and wet like a sad cartoon character and she felt even more ridiculous and embarrassed for getting worked up over a boy. She cried herself raw while Lady looked at her with a concerned gaze.

“I should’ve known I was making it up, Lady. I should’ve known better than to let my guard down,” she lamented, a weary hand rubbing across her forehead.

Between the crying and the alcohol, her head began to throb, and she resigned herself to polishing off the pint of chocolate chip ice cream she had been saving for as a midnight snack in lieu of the lasagna she had spent all day thinking about. She turned on some movie she had seen a dozen times before and tried to ignore the creeping anxiety she felt when she thought about the awkward encounter that she would have when she inevitably had to face Cassian again.

Around eleven, she heard footsteps in the hallway, first to their door, then rushing back to hers.

A tentative knock.

“Jyn?” his voice was muffled by the door.

She bit her tongue, not wanting to make any noise to signal that she might be awake.

“Jyn, if you’re there, I am so sorry. I have a reason for not showing up tonight, and I’m sure you’ll never believe me, but I really hope you’ll give me another chance.”

A fresh wave of tears started falling without warning as she clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle the small sob that squeaked out.

Cassian pressed his hand against the door, hoping that he could make it up to her some day. He walked back to their apartment with heavy shoulders and leaned down to scoop his hoodie up off the door mat where it he had found it sitting with a note that simply said, “thanks for everything,” and then he broke too.

Day 49

Jyn had not seen or spoken to Cassian since that night. He never texted, never called. By now, she had a good feeling of his schedule, and made a point to only take Lady out when she knew he was at work or not around. Sometimes she would watch the sidewalk from her window until she was sure she saw a glimpse of him exiting, wait five minutes, and then leave herself.

She was utterly humiliated and numb from the whole ordeal, deciding it was best to continue on as if they were strangers, which they practically were. Strangers that had shared coffee and childhood stories. Strangers that slept in the same bed that one time. Strangers that felt like they were touching a live wire every time they made eye contact.

Bodhi had no explanation for what could have happened, but he kept urging her to give him another chance.

“Please at least give him the chance to explain himself,” he pleaded as they split an Italian sandwich in the break room.

Jyn gave him a dead panned look that said “are you fucking kidding me” as she peeled the pepperoncinis off her half.

“Why didn’t he text me, Bodhi?”

“I don’t know! But I trust this guy. I know he isn’t an asshole like the rest of them.”

“He certainly isn’t going above and beyond to make me think that,” she grumbled.

“He wouldn’t have done all those things if he was an asshole. That’s a lot of effort to go through if you’re just trying to get in someone’s pants.”

“Gross.”

“But true,” he raised his eyebrow and bit into his sandwich.

“I don’t know, maybe. I just don’t even think I can look him in the eye.”

“Couldn’t hurt to try.”

“Shut up,” she snorted.

——

Jyn trudged through the door that evening in defeat. Her week had been hell. Just today on her way home, a car splashed stagnant water on her just before she reached her apartment building, she had snagged her skirt on something and torn it all the way up the side, and her favorite dim sum place had been closed for a family emergency.

Her sour mood was inevitable, and she didn’t even feel like faking happy at this point. Her legs were sticky from sweat and the puddle she got bathed in. She hoped her shoes weren’t ruined as they squished beneath her with each step. She carefully peeled off her wet clothes and kicked them into a pile in the corner to deal with later. A hot shower would solve at least a dozen of her current problems. She struggled with the loose shower knob and prayed tonight wasn’t the night it broke off completely. Before the thought even left her head, she heard a pathetic crack as it came off in her hand.

“Oh come the fuck on,” she said through gritted teeth, grasping at the stump of a knob and trying to turn it any way to no avail. Cold water drenched the rest of her as she cursed, now completely soaked and full to the brim with rage. She felt and looked as pissed off as a wet cat.

She knew there was nothing in her tool kit she could grab to twist the handle and turn it back off.

“No, no I won’t do it. You’ve got to be kidding me. Fuck.”

She swallowed down the last ounce of pride she had that by this point was clinging to her with a white knuckle grip, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and walked to her neighbors’ door in defeat. Her hair was stringy and wet, sending streams of ice cold water down her bare shoulders.

This time, she didn’t even try to work up courage to knock, knowing how pathetic she would look to either party who opened the door, but she really hoped it was Melshi.

The door opened almost instantly, and she found herself face to face with the man she had been avoiding.

“Jyn? What happened? Are you okay?” Cassian’s face was painted with ten levels of concern as he took in the sight of her for the first time in weeks.

“I just need to borrow some pliers,” she said, trying not to make eye contact, “My shower handle came off.”

“Hold on, let me help you,” he turned to grab their toolbox from the top of the fridge and she groaned internally.

“I just need the pliers, if yo—“

“Let. Me. Help. You,” he said firmly, and added on a, “Please,” with those eyes that made him look like a kicked puppy.

The day she had been dreading was here. And not only was it here, she was half dressed, soaking wet, and starving. Par for the course for her life.

She turned wordlessly on her heel and led him through her apartment and into her bathroom.

“It’s been on the verge of breaking for a while. It was brittle and stuck a lot when I moved in,” she explained, crossing her arms over her chest as he tried to assess the damage.

All that was left was a nub barely a centimeter long. He tried a few different angles and grasps with the pliers, but each one slipped right off.

He grunted in frustration as it became apparent to him that the only way to get a secure grip was to stand under the stream of water.

“I can do it,” she offered.

“Please let me,” he said again, a firm hand reaching out to hold her wrist, not letting her dodge his eye contact this time. Deep regret sat heavy in his dark irises as they bore into her own and pleaded for a shot at forgiveness.

She nodded almost imperceptibly, hoping the tears she felt creeping into her vision weren’t as obvious to anyone on the outside.

Cassian climbed into her shower and gritted his teeth as he yanked on the fixture three times before it switched off with a loud groan. The tan henley shirt he had been wearing was soaked along with his hair. He pushed it back from his forehead and sputtered out a mouthful of water, and Jyn couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

“Let me get you a towel,” she leaned into the hall to pop open the linen closet and pull a stack of clean towels out for the both of them.

They both started with the ends of their hair, scrunching out huge pockets of cold water.

“The fixtures in this place are shit,” he commiserated.

“You can say that again,” she laughed lightly.

“Jyn,” he started.

“You don’t have to,” she began.

“I do though,” he said firmly with pleading eyes, “Please, you have to let me explain.”

She swallowed hard and leaned back against the cool tile wall, raising her eyebrows as if to say “out with it.”

“So that day, I got held up at the office. Just for a few minutes. One of the interns accidentally wiped a hard drive while trying to recover a corrupted file. Everyone else was leaving, I didn’t want to leave her there alone. She was terrified,” he started, and Jyn’s heart thawed the smallest bit listening to him talk about helping a scared college student out.

“That only took a few minutes though. But, it took long enough that I missed my first train and had to wait another twenty minutes for the second one. I was just pulling my phone out to text you that I would be late, and a fight broke out on the platform. These two guys started throwing blows and tumbled over onto the tracks. I jumped down to pull them up before another train pulled in, and my phone fell out of my pocket. I saw it get obliterated and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

So that’s why he hadn’t texted her. The fear of rejection loosened another prong from her tired heart.

“Then the police showed up, and I got taken in for questioning and as a witness. They didn’t let me go until after ten that night. And when I got home and saw my hoodie, I just knew you must’ve been so hurt,” he lamented. He had made his way closer to her now, closing the gap that had been separating them, mending the wound in her heart as well when he spoke.

“Jyn,” he brushed the still damp hair back from her eyes, “There is nothing on the planet that could have kept me from you. You have to believe me,” he whispered.

“Of course I believe you,” she looked down at the ground suddenly feeling dizzy from his closeness and the familiarity of his scent that she had missed every night since she gave him back the hoodie.

His lips inched closer to hers, hovering so she could feel his breath falling on her chin and the prickles of his mustache.

“Your move, Jyn. I need to know you want this, because I want it so badly,” he whispered hoarsely, lips brushing against hers as tried to hold on to his resolve.

A breath hitched in her throat as she finally allowed the band of tension to snap and pulled him into her hungrily, fervently.

Kissing Jyn was like coming home after a long day. She was warm against him, tongue sweet and welcoming. He allowed one of his hands to dip under the hem of her shirt and roam up the expanse of her back, pressing his wide palm flat against her soft skin.

Jyn tangled a hand in his hair and the other rested at his hip, her pinky finger dipping into the waist band of his pants and sending a heat through his body.

Cassian could feel a newfound tension welling inside of him. Now that he finally had a taste of the thing he had longed for, he wanted to dive in headfirst, to be completely submerged in their collision. Their hands started to get more desperate, pulling at clothes and dragging nails across skin. But what really did him in was the breathy moan that fell from her lips when he nipped at the skin between her neck and shoulder.

He didn’t want to, but he needed to pull away.

“Wait, wait.”

Jyn was suddenly afraid she had gone too far too fast.

Cassian read the look on her face and immediately tried to dispel any fear, “No, it’s not like that. If I don’t stop now, I’m afraid I never will.”

Her lips quirked into a mischievous smile, “And if I say that’s okay with me?”

He held up a finger, “Ah, wait. You need a shower. And so do I. Let’s start there and pick up where we left off after dinner,” he smiled.

Jyn frowned, bottom lip puckering out in a way that drove him crazy. Cassian leaned down to press two more kisses to the swollen pink skin before telling her to go grab clean clothes. He pinched her ass on the way out the door, and she swatted at his hand half heartedly.

He finally felt like he could breathe again.

She finally felt like she could breathe again.

——

Walking in to Cassian’s apartment with half wet hair and disheveled clothes drew quite a look from Melshi.

“I see you two made up,” he grinned from the couch.

“Man, shut up,” Cassian hissed.

“My shower broke,” Jyn explained lamely, her arms full of toiletries and a fresh towel.

“It’s just through here,” Cassian said softly, his hand on the small of her back as she disappeared down the hall.

As soon as he heard the lock click in place, he turned on his heel to stare daggers into his roommate.

“Don’t fuck this up.”

“I was gonna say the same to you, mate.”

Cassian leaned against the kitchen counter and rubbed his face in his hands as he tried to process the last thirty minutes of his life.

“Do you want me to disappear? ‘Cause I can disappear,” Melshi offered, already grabbing his phone and the bag of chips he had propped next to him on the couch.

“Nah, stay. I don’t want to make it any weirder than it’s already been.”

“Good weird? Bad weird?”

“Great weird,” Cass smiled almost wistfully, causing his roommate to snort.

In the bathroom, Jyn’s heart pounded as her imagination ran wild. Though their last interaction had been pretty hot and heavy, she was caught up in thinking about the sight of her shampoo next to his. She thought of his bare feet on the tile, trimming up his beard in the morning while she showered. She thought of shared kisses with still wet noses and cheeks flushed from the steam, and when the time came for body wash, she reached for his instead of hers, hoping the scent would linger and lay gently on her sheets tonight while she tried to sleep thinking about the boy next door.

Day ???

Spring faded into summer, and summer into fall. The days grew impossibly longer, than too short to feel like you had ever gotten enough done.

The clock was nearing midnight as Cassian tiptoed through his dark apartment with a plate of warm cookies in hand. He bumped his bedroom door open with his hip and saw Jyn adding an extra blanket on her side the bed. She turned to smile at him when she heard the click of the knob closing behind him. He wasn’t sure when it was that she took his grey sleep shirt, only that he liked the look of it better on her than he ever did on his own body.

The bedside table on that side of the room now held her fan that she ran year round because she liked the noise, hence the extra blanket. Beside it sat her phone charger, allergy medication, and a book she had been thumbing through in her downtime.

His space had become her space and vice versa. They took up an unapologetic amount of space in each other’s homes and hearts, one of those couples who made eyes at each other across every room at every gathering.

Just earlier tonight, they had dipped out of a gathering early to go watch the newest installment of a docuseries that they had been looking forward to.

Cassian climbed into bed and nestled the plate of cookies between the two of them while Jyn flipped through the channels, pointing the remote at the tv on top of his dresser. She pressed her face up against his shoulder and he breathed in the scent of her freshly washed hair and the moisturizer she applied before bed.

“Thank you for going with me tonight,” he whispered into the crown of her head, leaving a lingering kiss there.

“And thank you for leaving with me when things got loud,” she angled her head slightly to look into his eyes.

“I’ll always follow you home,” he murmured.

She pressed her lips to his before turning back to face the television.

In the room next door, Melshi was sprawled on his bed with Lady taking up the other half, both of them snoring into the night.

#fluffbruary 2024 #rebelcaptain fluffbruary #rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fic #jyn x cassian #cassian x jyn

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greengaybubbles · 2 months

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FEDIVERSE INFO/GUIDE

TLDR: Info/guide about decentralized social media alternative if people would like to move away from Tumblr. Also I'm sorry for info-dumping.

### INTRODUCTION(ig i'm doing a chapter thing) Hi, it me, one of the little gay people in your phone. It's been a little since us 196ers have moved over to Tumblr. Over the first few months it felt like Tumblr became a place for our little community to settle down for the years to come but after the entire drama with Predstrogen getting banned by the CEO himself, life on this platform has seemed rocky to me. I was happy to see the community here was outraged and rallied against these actions but it feels like once again we are on a site that doesn't value or respect us. One question that I saw a few times during this event was if we should migrate to another platform and where to if so. This was met with not much of an answer because where else is there to go? Back to Reddit? Twitter? Somehow move to Instagram? To those who feel like there is no where left to turn let me introduce you, the two people who are actually read this, to the Fediverse.

### WHAT IS THE FEDIVERSE

In the most basic terms it's a group of individual servers that are connected to create a bigger social media platform. It's kind of like if you could view and communicate with people on Instagram and Reddit while on Tumblr and vise versa just with a lot of smaller independent servers.

This allows for a lot of smaller servers with unique communities and rules to mingle and thrive without needing to worry about advertisements, algorithms, or higher-ups from randomly banning your account for just existing(I mean that can happen if there's a bad admin but then you can just create a different account on a different server).

I feel like this corner of the internet would be perfect to harbor the 196 community. Below is a guide on how to set up an account and a little bit about the interface to anyone who would like to try. At the very bottom is also a great video that goes over everything here just better I would say. If you would, give it a try. It would make my heart warm to see the 196 tag on there.

### HOW TO MAKE AN ACCOUNT

# STEP 1: Pick a server

The first step in creating an account is picking the a server. This in the end won't matter that much as if you create an account on a niche server you will still be able to see the content on all other servers connected to the Frediverse. The two main things you will want to be looking at while choosing a server is: 1. Join or apply: Some servers you will need to apply to get in while others are open to anyone. I've never tried to apply to any servers so I can't say anything about the process, but it is something to keep in mind if you would just like to create an account and instantly start posting.

2. The rules: For rules that should be self explanatory. If some of y'all want to do hornyposting, which please do, then you should make sure the server you choose is okay with that type of stuff.

3. Character Limit: Every server will have a character limit for messages which is the only downside when switching from Tumblr. For most servers this limit is 500 character but it can be more. I don't know how to see this per server but if it's a bigger server it's more than likely it'll be a 500 character limit. Below are two links to help with server hunting: 1. The main page with some of the most popular servers.

2. A tool that can help you sort ALL of the servers.

For this tutorial I'll create an account on neovibe.app to demonstrate but feel free to join any one that catches your eye even if it's a general server like mastodon.social(that is a perfectly fine option).

# STEP 2: Fill out the info

Once you have picked a server go to it's page (so for me I'll put neovibe.app into my URL). Then once the page loads hit the 'create account' button.

Now you will be taken to the rules of the server. Double check they are good with you before hitting accept.

Now you will be taken to your usual social media fill out page. Fill the information and hit sign up. Next you will be prompted to verify your email and after that you should be ready to start posting.

# STEP 3: Enjoy

Once you've created your account you can now start posting. This works a little like Twitter but less toxic and isn't a in a spiral right now.

Here are some descriptions of the tabs you will use most: Home - Your home tab will show you things the people you follow posted along with tags you follow. Explore - The Explore tab I believe shows you what's trending today. Live Feed - The Live Feed shows you the newest things. It can be sorted between the server you are on, other servers, or all the servers.

When posting remember if something is NSFW or gory remember to add a content warning.

If you have any more question please let me know and I will help as much as I can. I love talking about open source projects that work towards a better and more open internet and helping people use this stuff.

For more info this video talks more in depth about how stuff works and how to use the platform:

youtube

#196 #rule #r/196 #/r/196 #196 rule #ruleposting

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machine-gun-casie · 3 years

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tavern music

synopsis: corpse hears tavern music coming from your room (gn!reader)

warnings: rpf, reader gets cheated on, kind of unrequited feelings, mostly hurt/comfort and physical affection tho (what im trying to say is that this is mostly self indulgent)

wc: 1.7k

a/n: havent written in a while but i found this in my arsenal, fixed it up a bit and viola. original plans for this was definitely something longer that would end with them being together but im not up for writing rn. been feeling really shitty lately and ive been needing something like this in my life. hope u guys like it ♡

He couldn’t hear it at first. His headset was on and everyone was being so loud on the discord call. When he started the stream, he really thought it was gonna be a long one. But he’s only two hours in and he’s ready to get the hell off because something was definitely wrong.

“Corpse?” His name being spoken finally broke him out of his trance, he only hummed in response. “You’ve been really quiet. Are you sure you’re up for another game?”

“Actually,” he starts as he closes a few tabs, “I think I’ve gotta go. Today was fun, though. Thanks for having me guys.”

After a chorus of ‘goodbye’s and ‘see you later’s, Corpse disconnected from the discord call. “Thank you guys for being here,” he addressed the chat, “sorry I’m ending so early today. I promise I’ll make it up to you next time. Take care of yourselves. Later.”

After hanging up his headset and getting out of the chair he’s been sitting in for far too long, Corpse made the short trek to your room.

You had only been roommates for less than four months, but Corpse could confidently say that you have become one of his closest friends. Getting a roommate was the last resort that he never wanted to actually resort to. But alas, medical bills were piling up and youtube and music don’t make half as much money as people think they do. So cutting rent in half was the best plan he could come up with. He did have an extra guest room that no one ever stayed in. Of course having someone move into his personal space was terrifying to him. He didn’t just want to post an ad on craigslist or something. So he asked a couple trusted friends to ask a couple trusted friends… And that’s when you came in.

You were the trusted friend of a trusted friend of a trusted friend. When you met, you didn’t make a comment about his voice. Your face sure as hell showed your surprise but you didn’t say anything. To Corpse, this meant one of two things. You either knew who he was but didn’t want to freak him out, or you didn’t know about his online persona and were just genuinely shocked by his voice. It only took a few minutes of knowing you to know that it was the latter. Thank god. You were like anyone your age with social media. You had a few accounts, followed a few people, but mostly used it to stay in contact with friends.

It only took you guys a week to realize you had way too much in common. After many a late night when he wasn’t streaming, and many an early morning when he was just done streaming, you two became inseparable. Nothing could keep you apart.

Except for one thing.

You had a boyfriend.

There was nothing wrong with your boyfriend, per se. Just the fact that he was your boyfriend and Corpse was not.

Yeah, Corpse definitely had feelings for you.

But right now, feelings didn’t matter when he could hear tavern music coming from your room.

He knocked lightly and pushed the door open slowly. “y/n? Can I come in?”

No response came, just sniffles and sobs. The lack of refusal on your part gave him the courage he needed to open the door wider and step into your room. He had only been in your room a couple of times since you had moved in. But he had never been in a room that gave off the feeling of a person so well.

You were curled up on your bed, facing your open laptop screen and the tavern music coming from its speakers. With every sob shaking your chest, Corpse felt his heart break. “y/n,” he murmured softly, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s not working.” Came your reply, heavy with tears. “You said it would make you feel like you're going on an adventure but I still feel like crap.”

“What happened?” Corpse asked as he sat down on your bed, facing you. You slowly sat up and crossed your legs at your ankles in front of you.

“He-” You sighed heavily. “He cheated on me.”

“What?”

“He cheated on me -has been cheating on me- with my best friend. My little brother found out.” You groaned and dramatically dropped your head onto Corpse’s thigh. His hand immediately came in contact with your cheek as he brushed a few stray tears away.

There was rarely any physical contact between you and Corpse. Sometimes you’d give him a high five, sometimes he’d give you fist bump. And there was that one time you came up behind him at the grocery store and hugged his arm to your chest. You immediately whispered something along the lines of ‘creep won’t leave me alone’ followed by a loud ‘hey babe!’

Corpse could barely admit to himself how much he liked that.

But this? This felt good. Corpse’s large warm hand on your face somehow made you want to cry more but in a good way. The tenderness with which he held your face made your heart squeeze as it remembered moments like this with your boyf- ex boyfriend. But then it remembered your brother’s words.

“Hey, what’s up?” You spoke as you answered his call. Your brother wasn’t much of a caller, so it made you worry.

“Hey, where are you right now?”

“I’m home, why?”

“y/n… There’s something I gotta tell you.” He sighed and you could clearly hear the guilt.

“Did you break my DS!” It was your first thought as you had given it to him the last time you had seen him. “Dude! I’ve had that since I was seven!”

“No no, I called about something else.” He cut you off mid-whine. “But also I did lose the pen.” You huffed out a sigh of frustration but stayed silent so he could tell you what he wanted to tell you. “I saw your boyfriend at the park today.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “And?” How did this warrant a phone call?

“He was with Bob.”

When you had met your best friend, your brother was only a toddler. He had decided that her name was Bob, so it stuck. You always called her Bob, she was saved as Bob in your phone, your whole family called her Bob. But you still didn't understand. Why was he calling you to tell you that your boyfriend and your best friend were at the park?

“Why are you calling me about this? You know that they’re friends, right?” You let out a chuckle, albeit still pretty confused. “They’re allowed to hang out without me.”

“They weren’t hanging out.” You could hear your brother push out a strained sigh. What wasn’t he telling you? “They were making out on the swing set. As in, both of them on one swing. And I double checked, it was definitely them. I-I told mom and she said not to tell you, but I couldn’t not tell you when I’m the one who saw it!”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say a word.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

There was no lying to yourself, you had doubts about your best friend and your boyfriend. But you constantly brushed it off. He wouldn’t hurt you like that. Hell, she couldn’t hurt like that. Not after everything you had been through together.

But you had seen his call log by accident one time, he called her more than he did you. She face-timed him one time to ask his opinion about a dress she was going to buy while you were in the changing room. She had done a handful of things since your relationship with your boyfriend started that made you uneasy. If this was their first kiss, which was something you doubted, then they’ve both been emotionally attached to the other for far too long.

All those tender intimate moments, all those dates, throughout everything, he wasn’t faithful. Not emotionally, at least. None of those moments that you cherished meant anything to you anymore. He had played you. With none other than your best friend since middle school. You didn’t know who to be more mad at.

The thoughts of betrayal from someone who you considered a sister and the hurt of being cheated on made you nauseated.

So when the large warm hand on your face stroked your cheek again, you didn’t mind it. This was Corpse. Not your cheating boyfriend. Not your lying best friend. Corpse. And you knew that he would never hurt you.

“He’s been cheating on me for a while I think.” You mumbled against his sweatpants. “Maybe a couple months. I don’t know.”

Corpse furrowed his brows in thought. You had told him you were going to visit your boyfriend for your one year anniversary next week. “Weren’t you go-”

“Yeah.”

“And Bob’s been your friend since-”

“Yeah.” Your chin wobbled as you answered. You brought your arms up around Corpse’s thigh and hugged it. It was a strange position, but you didn’t care. He was so warm and nice and hugging him properly required more movement on your end than you were willing to do.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Corpse sighed and reached out to untangle your arms from his leg. He gently pulled you across the few inches of bed between you and sat you in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, immediately sobbing into his shoulder. “Do you want me to turn off the music?” You shook your head no against him and he chuckled before he solemnly sighed. “When did you find out?”

“When I came home.”

“But you came home hours ago. Have you been in here this whole time?” You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were streaming, didn’t wanna interrupt.” You shrugged.

“y/n,” he sighed disappointedly, “you’re my best friend. I can end a stream if you need me.”

“Okay.” Your voice, broken and weak and tired, made him feel so guilty. You had been crying your heart out for over two hours just down the hall from where he was.

He gently grabbed you by your hips and tried to push you away, but you only held on tighter and whimpered. ��I just wanna get you some water.”

“I don’t want water.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.” You whispered. “Please stay.”

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

So he stayed.

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpsehusband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband fluff #corpse fanfiction #corpse fanfic #corpse fluff #gender neutral reader

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emitheduck · 3 years

Text

Night-Time (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: I guess every Friday I’m gonna feel like posting a Bucky fic??? but man oh man, my poor baby boy

Also if anyone would enjoy to be on a taglist send me a message! ----

“You’re home late. What have you been up to?” (Y/n) asked the man as he walked into the apartment, promptly shutting the door behind him and double checking that he locked the door, a habit that he has picked up over the years. She was just happy he was only doing it twice instead of the old rule of checking five times.

“Sorry. I got caught up with some stuff.” He mumbled, tossing his keys on the kitchen table. “I should have texted you, but I’m still trying to figure out how to send full sentences on this dumb thing.” He chuckled under his breath, his phone also landing on the table when he tossed it down.

(Y/n) shrugged. “I’m not mad or anything. You just know that I worry about you.” She told him, her hands deep in the sink where she was furiously scrubbing a pan, trying to get the remnants of the dinner she had messed up. Cooking had been a chore recently, as Bucky was seemingly better at it than her. “Did anything happen when you went out?”

He shook his head, moving over to stand in back of her, his hands moving to rest on her waist while his head rested on her shoulder. “No, not tonight. Just therapy, then I ended up spending some time with Yori.” He told her as he pressed a soft kiss to her neck. “What about you?”

“I burnt rice in the pan while trying to make fried rice, and I’ve been scrubbing it for hours.” She sighed, leaning back into him. “I worry every time you’re not here, and I think it took out my stress on the pan, and we might need to go get a new one.” She said, looking down at the non-stick pan that was clearly scratched to hell. “Do you want to just head to bed?”

“Yeah. That sounds good.” He smiled, holding her hand as they walked to the bedroom. He peeled off the leather jacket that seemed to be glued to his skin, leaving the black undershirt on. “Are you sure you want me to sleep in the bed with you?” Bucky questioned, a usual thing he asked every night before he climbed into bed next to her.

It was a summer night when it happened. The first time, and only time. He had a nightmare and somehow, the Winter Soldier was activated in his sleep. (Y/n) was sleeping peacefully in bed next to him, while he was sitting upright with his back to her, staring forward at the wall.

“Bucky? Is everything okay?” (Y/n) asked as she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes while she checked the time. “It’s almost two in the morning what’s the ma--” She never had time to finish the sentence as the metal hand collided with her throat; strangling every last breath out of her.

“Bucky! Please!” She yelled as tried her best to remove his hand from her throat. “Please! Let go!” She begged as he clawed at his hand, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked into his piercing blue eyes.

He only choked her for about a minute, but it had seemed like a lifetime until he had finally snapped out of it; realizing what he had done. He saw her neck, red where the grip of his hand had tried to kill her, along with the tears. “What the hell have I done?” He asked, practically leaping off the bed and slamming his back into the wall. He had hit the wall so hard, there was now a perfectly shaped arm-hole in the drywall.

(Y/n) sat up, having composed herself. “I’m okay.” She told him, her voice hoarse as she went to reach for him, causing him to try and back himself away further. “You could never hurt me.”

“I’m a monster.” He spat, going to the other side of the room where he kept his dresser, ripping out the drawers to take his clothes out; he was preparing to pack a bag and leave.

“No you’re not!” She yelled, quickly getting up and running to his side. “That was an accident and I’m not mad at you.” She cried, leaning up to rest her hand on his cheek, moving his head so he would look at her. “I love you so much, and you need to know that.”

“I almost killed you.” He mumbled, crumbling in her arms. He cried harder than she had ever seen, allowing her to try and soothe him while she rubbed his back and whispered sweet words to him.

He didn’t sleep in the bed for a month after that.

“Of course I want you to sleep next to me.” (Y/n) smiled as he finished getting changed into his pyjamas before he slid in bed next to her. She tried not to remember the night that he snapped, but knew that if it happened again that he would never hurt her.

Bucky then got comfortable next to her, moving his pillow to his favorite position so they could start his nighttime routine. Said routine consisted of her relaxing him until he fell asleep, until he woke himself up again after a few minutes of being asleep, then she did it one more time until he actually worked.

“Are you comfortable?” (Y/n) asked as she gently worked her fingers through his hair. He knew that if anyone knew his favorite way to fall asleep was safely in your arms would bring so much teasing; but you always cared the most and never judged. Of course if it was you who had trouble sleeping he would do this for you, but nowadays he needed it most.

“Yeah, thank you.” He mumbled as her hands gently rubbed over his face, allowing all the tension (and frowning) to vanish. “Why do you love me?”

She paused for a second before she continued to trace his face. “I love you because I love you. I love you because you’re sweet, funny, charming..” She comforted him. “I love you because I know that you’ll protect me. You make me feel better about myself all the time.” She said as she pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “You’re my soulmate.”

“You really believe in that stuff?” He whispered, his eyes starting to close as her ‘magic’ was working. He swore, she could put him to sleep in minutes flat.

“I always have believed in that kind of stuff. There are different kinds of soulmates.” She told him, smiling as he started to nod off. “Some soulmates are friends, like you and Steve. There are some that were made from the start like Wanda and Vision. Then there’s people like us who had to wait a long time to actually find each other.”

There was no denying they had met by pure fate. A man who was alive for 106 years to find love with someone who had lived a normal life, seemed out of the ordinary. But they also didn’t have some amazing love story; they started as acquaintances. Bucky used to give her a nod, then it turned to a ‘hello’, which slowly turned into full sentences. It was the little things that really made up for everything as a whole.

“You sleeping yet baby?” She mumbled as she peeked down at where he was in her arms. He was out like a light. “Hopefully tonight you don’t wake up.” She smiled, giving him a gentle kiss before relaxed and went to sleep next to him.

MASTERLIST

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #reader #reader insert #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #bucky imagine #falcon and winter solider

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bbrandy2002 · 3 years

Text

Fool’s Rush In -- Chapter 16

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warning: Some language, mild sexual talk

Since it’s been awhile since I last posted an update, in the previous chapter Madeleine had confronted Riley with a video after she left the ball.

Thank you @burnsoslow for the preread and beta.

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

Riley sat on a leather bench at the foot of the bed with a television remote held loosely between her hands, folded in her lap.

Somehow her worn-out body managed to walk from the corridor after the encounter with Madeleine, up the many stairs of the quarters she shared with Liam and to their bedroom. The shock of the situation combined with exhaustion and throbbing pain in her lower back was secondary to the fear she felt at possibly giving up the man she loved.

With trembling hands, she had slipped the DVD into the player and watched her nightmare play out on the screen -- It was all true. Madeleine acquired an illicit video of Riley and her ex-husband that the Queen had no clue was recorded of her or existed.

Her thumb grazed over the pause button several times, but she knew pressing it wouldn’t stop the hurt and embarrassment she felt at that moment at watching her former husband violating her trust and privacy. It wouldn’t stop Madeleine from releasing the video of it to the press and public. And it wouldn't stop the love she felt for Liam -- no one was powerful enough to take that feeling away from her.

But it was those words Madeleine threatened her with that got equal consideration with that video in Riley’s mind. She tried to envision how the scenario would carry out if the video was released and for those who would be affected by it: her father, her friends, her former students.

Liam.

“It’s a shame that he’ll lose his reign, all because of you.”

“Would you really do that to Liam?”

“Do you genuinely believe you’re worth all the trouble it will cause him?”

Riley hit the pause button, her hands flying up to cover her tear-laden face as she bent over in sobs, shaking her head. She was wrestling with that inner voice, replaying Madeleine’s words like a broken record while struggling to remember everything Liam told her about trusting him and his love for her.

No matter how hard she tried to let his tender voice speak to that sacred place in her heart, Madeleine’s threats and taunts were getting the best of her. If there was even a slight possibility that the Countess was right, and Liam would get dragged through the mud in all of this, then there was no question what needed to be done.

Those scattered bricks that formed the walls she came to Cordonia with, the ones Liam had broken down, were quickly stacking up again, one on top of the other. If something didn’t happen soon, Riley would be surrounded and suffocated inside that impenetrable cocoon that initially caused herself to doubt her worthiness to him in the first place.

All of those insecurities and fears crept up faster than a flooded riverbank, and she felt powerless to stop it from rising. Even if she could, she’d never allow Liam to suffer the consequences of something she had the power to prevent. To hell with whatever happened to her, but not him. He saved her weeks ago, and as her teary gaze slid from her hands to the wardrobe closet across the room, this would be her way of saving him.

Riley picked up the remote from her lap and tossed it aside. Determined to get out of the palace and Cordonia before anyone could see her, she swallowed her anger and grief and swiped a knuckle under each eye to dry the tears shed.

She rose to her feet faster than she should have, feeling an intense shock of pain that began in her hip and shot down to her feet. There were no doubts that the fall from struggling with Madeleine injured her far worse than she wanted to admit to herself. With a shrieking whimper, she ground her teeth together and doubled over, feeling like she might faint.

Riley grasped her back and gave herself a second to breathe through the pain before straightening up and staggering to her wardrobe to pack whatever she could as quickly as possible.

_____________

Liam stepped off the dance floor with Olivia's arm curled through his and escorted her back to their table. The conclusion of the ball was nearly upon him, and most guests had already stopped on their way out to say their farewells and offer congratulatory well-wishes. When they'd ask about the Queen's whereabouts, he'd tell them she had something come up that needed her attention. No one dared press him on the issue.

Checking the time on his watch, Liam looked up as Maxwell ran over with his phone in hand and dropped into a seat. He looked curiously at the out of breath Beaumont and asked, "What's going on, Maxwell?"

"Sorry," he replied before plucking a flute of champagne from a passing server's tray and gulping it down quickly. Wiping the droplets that dribbled from his mouth to his chin off with the back of his hand, he panted. "I ran here as fast as I could. I just got a text message from Drake. He's heading back soon."

"Did he say what the results of the paternity test were?" Olivia asked.

Maxwell nodded. "Yeah. They're Bastien's for sure. Las Vegas officials are allowing Drake to leave, but they've detained Bas until he pays up the $200,000 he owes to Boom Boom. Drake's return flight is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, Cordonia time."

Liam pulled out his wallet and tossed $100 at a smug Leo, who promptly counted them out and stuffed the bills into his pocket. "I told you those little dudes weren't mine, bro. Really, your doubt in me hurts."

"I'll admit you were right, Leo. But you do have a track record when it comes to being involved in weird stuff like this."

"Yeah, I've gotten myself into some pretty hairy shit a time or two," he laughed as the memories came to him. "Ahh, good times, good times. But, y'know, it wasn't always just fun and games with me, Liam. During those few occasions when I'd show up to train on being the top dog of this place, Father taught me several valuable lessons. Wanna know what they were?"

"Not really," Liam answered dryly, then tossed back the rest of his scotch to prepare himself. "But I assume you're going to tell me anyway."

"Damn right I am! This is good shit to know, straight from the Big Kahuna himself." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "You must never tell anyone what I'm about to share with you all. This is top secret, classified Cordonian shit we're talking about; lives are on the line here. Father would be pissed if --"

"Just spit it out already!" Olivia snapped.

"Alright, first, never jizz in a jacuzzi unless you want to be covered in a thin spiderweb-like amalgamation of your own gravy. Daddio said he learned the hard way on that one ..."

"Oh, God. Leo!" Sickened, Liam dropped his head.

" ... Next, when you kiss a woman's hand, do it on the thumb side. Most people scratch their asses with their fingers, but rarely their thumbs. I might be an exception to the rule on that one." Leo chuckled to himself. "And lastly ... Rys spermies are MEAN sons-of-bitches, and we should dip my balls in a mug of hot water every day to kill them before having sex."

"What the hell?" Olivia grimaced as she lowered her coffee mug away from her lips and pushed it away.

"My dad told me the same thing," Maxwell boasted. "Except he called them Beaumont spermies. I guess he heard the same story from someone different than your dad."

Liam lowered the hands that were covering his face and breathed out heavily, "Leo, did our father ever teach you about anything other than using protection and sex during these meetings? Anything about negotiations, taxes, treaties ..."

Leo considered him for a moment. "Nope. He said you'd do all that stuff."

Liam grumbled. "Of course he did."

Olivia looked between Leo and Maxwell and scowled. "Well, it's too bad neither of your fathers took their own advice." She grabbed her clutch from the table. "At least I'll rest easier knowing the two of you aren't reproducing. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"I'll walk out with you, Liv." Liam rose and left the ballroom, having had more than enough of his fill of Leo for the night. There was also an incredibly sexy woman upstairs he'd been dreaming of pleasing all day, and he was overly eager to make good on his promise to join her shortly.

______________

Liam made his way through the residential wing and down the long hallway to his quarters. While undoing his tie, he stopped midway when he noticed a vase that usually sat on a decorative table along the wall, tipped over on its side with bundles of long-stemmed roses littered on the ground around it.

As he stooped down to pick them up, he found it oddly peculiar -- they didn't just fall over like this on their own. If a member of the staff had knocked them over, they would have picked them up; he felt certain Riley would have, as well.

After rearranging the flowers in the vase and situating them back on the table, Liam removed his key card from his pocket and swiped it through the key fob next to the door.

"Riley! I'm home," he called out in a sensual tone, knowing she was most likely upstairs -- hopefully naked and ready to get her ass spanked -- and wouldn't have heard him.

Taking a moment to check his reflection in the entryway mirror, Liam smoothed back his hair and tested his breath against his palm, satisfied he was good. After a quick stop in the kitchen to grab a can of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, Liam ascended the stairs, two at a time, to his bedroom.

"Daddy's ready for his dessert ..." his exuberant voice trailed off as the sultry smirk he donned quickly faded away when he walked into an empty room. "Riley?"

Glancing around the bedroom, the en suite door was still open, and the light was off, so he knew she wasn't in there. The bed was still in pristine form and didn't look touched. He wasn't at all worried; Riley likely went for a snack, even though that thought seemed rather odd considering how adamant she was about returning to their quarters earlier.

Liam placed the toppings on a side table and slipped out his phone. He plopped down on the bench at the foot of their bed, thinking maybe he'd missed a message or call from her.

There was nothing.

He scratched his head; it wasn't like Riley not to mention to him if she'd gone somewhere, not that she had to. But in this case, she knew he'd be up soon. Thinking about the overturned vase Liam walked upon, something started to not sit well with him.

With the cell still in his hand, he pulled her contact information up. Just as he was about to hit the dial button, he heard "Liam" in a low, raspy voice.

Relief washed over him as he stood and put his phone away. "Love, you worried me. Everything okay?" Her face was ashen, and her eyes red and swollen. Liam's insides immediately clinched.

Riley didn't answer as Liam crossed the room, frantically approaching her, worry engraved on his features. “Riley, love, what’s wrong? What happened?” His eyes were desperately searching for any clue as to what was clearly something wrong with his wife.

She held out her hand, preventing him from coming too close. “Please ... don’t.”

Bewildered, he asked, “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

Riley turned her head away somberly; she couldn't bear to look at him. She had planned to get out of the palace before he returned from the ball; there was no way she would be able to face him. Liam would want an explanation that she couldn't give him. But when she got to the car, Riley noticed there was something important she forgot to give back to him, and there was no way she would take it. Maybe somewhere inside, even if she couldn't admit it, she needed to see him and do this right. “I ... have to go.” Her words were barely audible.

Liam's brows bumped together. “Go? You’re going somewhere this late? But you were tired before --”

“No,” Her head shook faster than she realized before she spat the rest out. “I’m leaving Cordonia. I’m returning to Las Vegas, and I’m not coming back.”

“Riley? What the hell is going on? You were fine and having a good time 30 minutes ago, and now, all of a sudden, you want to go back to Nevada. What am I missing here? Does this have something to do with what happened at dinner? Because I told you --”

“You’re not missing anything. I came here to prevent you from marrying Madeleine, and I did that. That was the agreement, and now ... I’m going home.”

Liam started to laugh and wagged his finger at her. “Leo put you up to pranking me? He's mad about me sending that damn monkey away and is trying to get me back, right? Because if he did, that's just … just heartless. And I don’t find it funny.”

“No, Liam.." She shook her head again. "Leo didn’t put me up to this, and it's not a prank.” Riley carefully pulled off the wedding bands she came back to give him and held them out to him.

He looked at them and gritted his teeth. “Put them back on,” he commanded.

“I can’t do that, Liam. They belonged to your mother, and I’m not taking something so sentimental with me back to Vegas.”

“You’re damn right you're not taking them back to Vegas with you because you’re not going!”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not!”

Riley choked out into a wispy sob, “I’m so sorry, Liam. I'm so sorry!”

He said nothing as he stared at her in disbelief and saw that she was serious. “Why?” He asked as his throat clenched and the first tear slipped down his cheek.

Her body felt leaden, never having seen him this shattered. “Liam, I just want to go home, okay? I mean ... this has been an amazing experience, and I’ll never forget it, but I miss my home, and my job, and my friends ..."

“Fuck your home! I’ll buy you one here that looks just like it. Visit your friends all you want ... hell, bring them here if you want to; I don’t care. That's NOT what's going on! There’s something you’re not telling me. And I want to know, NOW!”

Riley startled at his yell, wanting to hold him and make it better. “Liam, I don’t want to be in Cordonia anymore, or be the Queen, or live in this palace. I want to go home.”

He motioned around the room.“THIS is your home, Riley ... Cordonia. I’m your home! This palace is your home." Liam scrubbed a frustrated hand furiously over his face. "Again, you were fine 30 minutes ago. What changed between you leaving the ball and coming up here? You're not telling the truth for some reason, but I can’t figure out why. Did I do something to upset you? Did someone else do something to upset you?"

"No!" she responded expeditiously.

"I love you, Riley. You know that, right?" She nodded; the glisten in his blue eyes and the desperation in his trembling voice was destroying her willpower. "Do you … still love me?"

Riley slammed her eyes shut. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and to tell him so in this very moment would only serve to prolong this hellacious situation. The only way to protect him from losing everything -- in her mind -- was to let him go. He would fight her on this, and it broke her heart to see the pain and confusion in his eyes, but it had to be done.

“Do. You. Love. Me?” he enunciated his question once more. The struggle and agony on her face were evident to him.

Riley turned away from Liam and faced the door. Did she have it in her to answer that question with a lie?

"... the council will have no choice but to question Liam's decision-making abilities after not only squandering his pick of a queen on some American nobody but now one whose ass will be featured on the desktops of teenage boys across the world. It's a shame he'll lose his reign, all because of you. Would you really do that to Liam? Are you worth the trouble?"

The sadness crushed her. There was no other way to protect him. Riley swiped at her face and answered firmly.

“No.”

With that, the Queen walked out, leaving the King in an empty room with his shock, his confusion, and an unimaginable pain he'd never get over.

-----------

Tags:

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @yourmajesty09 @natureblooms24 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @shewillreadyou @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer

Liam x MC: @cordonia-gothqueen

Fools Rush In tags: @narrytheworld @queenwalton @cordonianprincess @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @drrookie @sfb123 @secretaryunpaid

#fools rush in #Liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #the royal romance #trr #choices trr #prince liam #bbrandy2002

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peterprkrsbtch · 3 years

Text

sapphire - part 2

Peter Parker x reader

A/n: Part 1 is up on my page! There’s a couple flashbacks in this one so I put the dates before so it doesn’t get confusing. If you enjoy this one, like or reblog to share! I already wrote part 3 and it’s my favorite one yet so that’ll def be up soon :)

tag- @juliannaamonroe

Warnings: swearing, make out, violence

(September 1)

We’re one minute away. Come out hoe!

You smile as you read the text, glancing at yourself in the mirror again, nerves and excitement ablaze in your stomach. You’d been planning for this day since last winter, and now it was finally here. You adjust your carefully styled hair and double check that the natural makeup you applied was sitting on your skin correctly.

Of course it was. That goddamn injection sometimes made you feel like a vampire out of twilight and sometimes you still got surprised when you saw your own face while passing a mirror or a particularly reflective window. You smooth down the ruffles of your short black skirt and tug the top of your tank top down so a bit more of your curves show.

You put on your white sneakers and tug your shirt back up to cover your chest again. We’ll have to work up to that, I guess. A long honk sounds from outside your apartment building and you curse as you scramble to grab your backpack and phone before running down and out the front steps.

“Awwww,” You say sweetly at the sight of the two girls who had become your best friends. “That’s the shirt you were wearing when we met, Ally.” You jokingly brush away a tear, pretending to be ultra touched.

“Best damn day of my life.” Ally says from her spot in the drivers seat, laughing at your dramatics. She may be joking around, but her sentiment makes your heart clench. This year really was going to be different.

***

(July 3)

You quickly realized you needed to find some Midtown friends if your plan for senior year was going to work. If you dared to show up looking, well, like you do, completely alone and friendless, you might become even more of an outcast than you were before. The first month of summer had been the least lonely time of your year so far, thanks to a certain Spiderman.

The two of you spent most of your nights together, flying through the city, fighting crime together, and talking. The “slow” nights that used to fill you with boredom quickly became your favorite when he was involved. The sound of his laugh and the jokes he makes during fights quickly became the highlight of your days.

But you couldn’t let yourself get too distracted by him. After all, neither of you knew what the other looked like. The only other boy you’d ever found remotely cute (other than celebrities) was nerdy Peter Parker from your high school. He wasn’t your usual type and he seemed to be just as shy as you were, so you had little (zero) hope that it would ever lead to anything more than a smile during the hallway if you accidentally made eye contact.

Sorry Spiderman, but no way in hell are you gonna make me lose my focus. The loneliness you had felt through the last three years of high school was too much. Your plan had to work. So that night as the two of you patrolled together, you softly mentioned that you were going to a pool party tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to meet.

He seemed a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off, trying to remember the names of the girls at your school who seemed nice. Peter, however, couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that you had told him where you would be tomorrow. There was only so many pool parties in a city like New York.

You tried not to think about who was under the Spiderman mask out of respect and, to be honest, it seemed like a pointless endeavor. Peter was not the same. No matter how tired he was from patrol, he always had time to lay awake before he fell asleep and picture what you would look like under the mask.

There wasn’t very many people who understood Peter’s secret life. None, actually, until you. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by you, because you were so similar, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t it. He liked you. And he hated himself for it. But once you mentioned the pool party, he made sure to take one long last glance at the color of your hair before you two said goodbye. Just in case he happened to see that same hair tomorrow.

(July 4)

You were so, so nervous. Your closet of exclusively sweats and hoodies was trashed as Part 1 of your plan, much to your mother’s happiness. She had always been honest about her hatred of your junior year clothes and was extremely excited to purchase everything you needed. As distant as she was, you had to give her a little credit.

Although you’d been wearing the new clothes for the past month, this was the first time you were doing it so publicly. Your denim shorts exposed miles of smooth leg, and you’d decided to wear a red tube top in honor of the holiday-not to mention it really showed off your curves. You’d meticulously done your hair and makeup like you’d been practicing the past month and prayed that somebody would talk to you today.

You’d seen the flyer for the Fourth of July party on Instagram, which had been step 2. Unfortunately, you had two followers. Your mom and her boyfriend. Step 2 is a work in progress.

One long walk later, and you’re in front of the address. You swear you could explode of nerves right there, but instead you take a deep breath and force your legs to carry you inside the house and towards the people out by the pool.

Your eyes are so focused on your destination, the glass sliding door, that you barely notice when you bump shoulders with someone, causing you to drop your phone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say, reaching down to grab your phone.

“Oh my god, stop. That was totally my fault.” You stand back up to see the girl who was speaking, and you recognize her immediately. Her name is Ally, and she’s a part of the most popular group at school. Despite her long black hair and sweet smile, you haven’t heard many good things about her. Not the type of person you were looking for.

“Do you go to Midtown? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Ally says, making no move to walk away from the conversation.

“Yeah, actually. My name is Y/n?” You don’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen with confusion and shock. You’re embarrassed now, realizing maybe you weren’t as invisible as you’d thought. In an effort to explain away the last few years, “My dad left a couple years ago and it was pretty hard on me, but I’m all better now.” You flash the most dazzling smile you can manage and hope she accepts it.

“No way, mine did too!” She gasps as she grabs your hands. You feel a small pang of guilt at that. It was a lie, you had no idea who your dad was and frankly, you didn’t think your mom knew either.

The conversation starts to flow between you and Ally easily as you make your way out to the pool. “This is my best friend Betty.” Ally introduces you to the sweet-as-pie girl and the three of you quickly fall into a conversation like you’d known each other forever. A few of their guy friends tried to come up and talk to you, but she just waved them away. “Leave us alone, we just met our new best friend.”

You felt bad for judging Ally so harshly earlier, blindly trusting the stupid rumors you’d heard about her. Popular or not, the three of you got along better than any of the other friends you’d tried to make throughout your life. They do briefly make fun of your instagram before forcing you to take and post pictures with the two of them by the pool. They both tag your account.

Peter didn’t seem to share the good luck you did. He’d dragged Ned to 6 different pool parties across the city and saw no one who looked like Sapphire. Disappointed, he spent the night patrolling alone and dodging fireworks.

***

(September 1)

Since that day, you’d become a trio with Ally and Betty. The day after the pool party you’d woken up to nearly 1,000 followers on your instagram. Everyone from Midtown who never gave you a second look when you had your hood shoved over your head now wanted to be your friend.

The three of you spent the rest of your summer days together, and you fit into the popular friend group better than you could have imagined. Maybe you watched too many teen movies, but you expected them to be mean. The only mean one was Flash, and even he was basically harmless. You’d given up Saturday night patrols with Spiderman for a weekly girls night with your new best friends. You thought having new friends and a bustling social life would’ve made it easier to forget about Spiderman, but somehow he seeped into every area of your life.

That damn laugh. As Ally and Betty sing along to the radio loudly, you bite your lip to stop a dumb smile from rising to your lips. God, just thinking about him made you flustered. As Ally drives into the school parking lot, nerves bubble in your stomach.

As if you aren’t stressed enough, your brain decides this is the perfect moment to remind you of the one night this summer you and Spiderman haven’t talked about since.

*** (August 14)

The two of you were sprawled out on a gravel rooftop next to each other. Not the most comfortable of relaxing spots, but you’d both grown tired of flying around under the summer heat with no hint of trouble for miles.

“This sucks.” Spiderman huffs out.

“Rude.” You reply quickly, even though you know he isn’t talking about you.

“Oh, no,” He immediately sits up. “I didn’t mean you suck, I just meant, you know, because there’s not much going on right now and it’s hot and-” He sees your cheeky smile and stops himself with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cute.” You bite your lip. The fuck did I just say? Before you can begin to explain, he jumps to his feet.

“Spidey sense, let’s go!” You jump up too and follow after him as he jumps off the building. Thank god. I’ve never been so grateful that someone’s in trouble. The fight was tough, even with the both of you. These men had strange guns that keep firing at you and Spiderman even though you’d tried multiple times to crush them with your powers.

“The guns are magic-proof! I can’t destroy them!” You yell over to Spiderman as you take down one of the men in between punches.

Somehow, two men get ahold of their guns and corner you. Just as you start levitating to fly over them, a web shoots from somewhere behind them and the men and their guns are yanked away. Spiderman wastes no time and you swear he seems angry with the two men as he webs them to the wall next to their friends before picking up the guns and violently smashing them on the ground.

You’re still frozen in shock, watching him. When he seems to be satisfied with the broken pile of guns on the floor, he runs back over to you. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised-” You finally break out of whatever trance you were in to place a finger over his lips, casting a disgusted glance towards the men staring at you from their webbed cocoons.

“Not here.” You say quietly, and fly the two of you quickly up to the roof. He blinks for a second, his head spinning from the speed. You rarely use your full speed, especially with him, but you had to get out of there. “Okay, go ahead.” You say after a second of silence.

“I’m so sorry, I know we agreed not to get in each other’s way, and I know you can handle yourself, probably better than I can. Hold on, I didn’t mean I handle you. That sounded weird. Anyways, I just got so angry when I saw those men pointing their guns at you I had to-” He’s talking about the agreement you two had made when you first started working together. You both obviously were skilled, so you agreed that you wouldn’t interrupt each other’s fights unless asked.

“Spidey, I really don’t care you interrupted. It was hot.” JESUS CHRIST NOT AGAIN. You immediately winced and slap a hand over your mouth. “Oh my god I did NOT mean to say that I’m so sorry.”

Your rambling is cut off as Spiderman’s hand travels up to the bottom of his mask and you think your eyes might fall out of your head with how wide they become as he begins to pull it up, revealing the soft pale skin of his neck.

His jaw, chin, and then lips become visible as he lets the mask rest on his nose. The 0.5 seconds that have passed since you stopped talking feel like an eternity until he suddenly leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Spiderman is an amazing kisser, you decide, as you gently kiss him back.

WHAT AM I DOING? Your mind is going haywire but instead of stopping, you deepen the kiss and nearly smile when he lets out a low moan. Everything you’ve told yourself about focus and distractions flies out the window when his gloved hands clutch your waist and pull you closer to him than you thought possible.

It feels like it’s only been a second when he pulls away, but your eyes flicker to his swollen lips and you know it must have been longer. You smile as you stare at his lips, only inches from yours, but as your gaze moves to the rest of his exposed skin the smile drops slowly.

Your rational mind comes back. It’s easy to forget when you’re with him that you’ve only known each other a couple months. How could you do this? Your first time making out with a boy, and he doesn’t even know your name.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper as he starts to say something. “Sorry, what were you going to say?” He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before stepping away from you.

“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” And he swings away from you. You silently curse yourself for being such a big mouth, wanting to know what he would have said. You can’t help the small voice in the back of your head, telling you that you made the wrong decision.

You raise your hand to run your fingers along your tingling lips before flying home as fast as you can.

***

(September 1)

You wince at the painful memory before reminding yourself everything was back to normal the next day and neither of you mentioned it again. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You force all thoughts of Spiderman out of your brain and even give Ally an encouraging cheer when she successfully parks on her first try.

You don’t remember Midtown having so many fucking students last year, but maybe it was because they were all staring at you. Any confidence you’d had as you opened Ally’s car door had disappeared as everyone around you turned to gawk. The bright smile you’d pasted on a second ago quickly fell and you glanced at Ally nervously.

“Come on, girls!” She says enthusiastically, grabbing an arm from you and Betty as she breaks the brief moment of awkward silence. God bless you Ally. As the three of you hoist your bags over your shoulders and make your way into the school, you mouth a quick thank you her way, hoping she can see your genuine appreciation. She smiles at you. “I’m happy we’re going into this year as three instead of two.”

Betty leans forward to smile at you. “Me too, y/n. I’m really happy you’re here.” You smile back brightly. There really was no one as sweet as Betty.

“You won’t be so happy I’m here when I talk your ear off during class.” The three of you continue laughing and joking your way down the hall to stop at your lockers.

“Oh my god, is that Y/n?” Ned interrupts Peter’s latest ramble about his night with Sapphire. Usually, he really did listen. Ned was fully invested in the superhero love story, as he called it, unfolding. But the sight of a girl notorious for hiding in her own baggy clothes across the hall in a miniskirt and tank top was more important.

“Y/n?” Peter asks, confused why Ned wasn’t paying attention. But when he turned around to see what Ned was staring at, he understood. He’d seen you around school the past three years, but never like this.

You looked like a fucking model. And everyone in the hall couldn’t help but stare. “Holy shit.”

“Right, dude?” Ned breathes out, the two of them shamelessly staring. “Why didn’t that happen to me over summer? Oh my god, of course she’s friends with Betty.”

Peter laughs as his best friend goes on about “two pretty best friends” but he can’t take his eyes off of you. The light in your eyes as you joke with your friends, making them double over in laughter, feels strangely familiar. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on his part because you’re extremely pretty.

He watches in surprise as you and Ally walk up to the AP Chem classroom, waving goodbye to Betty sadly as she heads off to English. You turn to walk into the classroom after Ally, but you pause and look back down the hallway-right at him. Instead of yelling at him for being a creep like he expected, you smile at him widely before heading into the class. He exhales deeply and glances down at his schedule quickly, a smile appearing. AP Chem.

Of course his thoughts are still consumed by Sapphire, but it was hard to ignore you especially after seeing his name on the seating chart next to yours in the back row. Plus, Sapphire was the one who’d shot him down after he finally tried to make a move after catching onto the hints he thought she’d been dropping.

He felt bad for thinking that about her, he didn’t blame her at all. He knew there was a million reasons they shouldn’t be together-and he didn’t want to know specifics on why he wasn’t good enough. Sapphire hadn’t brought up that night since, and he was fine to pretend it never happened.

You were already in your seat at the lab table, but Ally was still standing next to you waving her hands wildly as you two spoke. He doesn’t want to interrupt so he freezes in place, unsure of whether or not to go sit down. He’d thought you were cute, and a little shy like him in freshman and sophomore year and he remembered the many times he would look at you from across the room like he is now.

His eyes had been quick to find you whenever you two were in the same room ever since the first day of school freshman year when you smiled at him in the hall. Even last year, when all he saw of you was a curled up lump at your desk or a sliver of hair peeking out from behind your hood he still noticed you.

Luckily for him, the bell rings and he slides into his seat just as the teacher begins speaking. “Hi, Peter.” You lean over to him, your shoulders nearly touching, and whisper so the teacher doesn’t hear. “I’m y/n.” You smile warmly as his cheeks and ears turn light pink.

“You don’t have to introduce yourself. We’ve gone to school together since we were 6?” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed and you purse your lips together.

“No, I know, just-” Peter notices you seem a bit frustrated as you glance around the room and then lean even closer to him. “Everybody thinks I’m new.” You nervously mess with your bracelet.

“You do look a bit different.” He points out and you raise your eyebrows before sighing slowly and shrugging.

“I was just sick of feeling invisible, you know. Not because I care what anyone here thinks. Last year was just, really, really lonely.” Peter watches you intently as you speak, hanging onto your every word.

Your confession made him sad. If only he’d been brave enough to ask if you were okay. You pause for a second and meet his eyes. Any other guy in this school would’ve laughed at you by now. You gesture to your outfit and nervously adjust your skirt. “I’m also not a superficial person. It wasn’t about changing how I looked, I just needed the confidence to put myself out there.” You pause and nod towards Ally with a smile. Peter glances over to Ally and sees her blow you a kiss, which you catch across the room with a giggle.

I miss you! She mouths with a dramatic frown and this time Peter laughs quietly with you. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her.” He looks at you with surprise to find you smiling at him. “But,” you hold up a finger for dramatic effect, “because I put myself out there, I met my best friends. A lot of people around here judge on appearances. I’m not like that anymore.” You say with confidence.

“That’s really cool of you.” Peter whispers back, and the sound sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. He’s so close to you and the feelings you thought you left behind two years ago don’t seem so left behind as you stare into his warm eyes. “For the record, I’d be your friend no matter what you look like.”

Peter has only been this nervous a couple times before in his life, and he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Sapphire with the way he’s thinking about you. He watches as you smile warmly at his words and extend your hand towards his.

“Friends? Even though I'm so much uglier now?” You pout your bottom lip out, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He nearly laughs out loud and has to remind himself you’re still in class. “I know guys go wild for the homeless man sweatpants look.” You’re both trying to hold back your laughter, shaking silently in the back of the class as he raises his hand and grabs yours.

“Friends.” Peter isn’t sure why he keeps going, but he does. “And just so you know, you were never ugly. I don’t know why you tried so hard to hide yourself last year, but even then,” the words leaving his mouth sound confident but Peter takes a deep breath before looking up from his lap to meet your eyes. Your wide eyes and surprised smile give him just the confidence he needs to finish. “You could never be ugly.” Peter can hear his heart beating.

You blink at him. This boy could not be real. Here he was, basically implying that the one thing you had wanted all along, for somebody to notice you, was true. Not only was it true, but it was Peter fucking Parker telling you this. Despite everything that had changed you in the past year, the giddy feeling in your bones brought you back to sophomore year and pining over Peter.

“Really?” Your smile spreads and he seems to let out a deep breath of relief.

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you until your sweet moment is interrupted by a fat ass syllabus dropping onto the lab table in front of you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “This class is gonna be so much homework.” You turn the page so Peter can briefly see the list of projects alone, and it’s enough to make him cringe.

Something about the way the whispers travel back and forth between you all class makes you realize you hadn’t fallen into a friendship this easily, even with Ally. Even with Spiderman, your brain points out.

A red and blue suit swings into your mind and you are hit with a wave of guilt. Not two hours ago I was thinking about my make out with Spiderman, and now I’m comparing him to Peter?

You have all but one class together, and you can’t help but glance in Peter’s direction any chance you get. The only time you don’t see him is at lunch, even though you look all around the lunch room for him or the boy he’d been standing with this morning. You thought it would be too creepy to ask him where he’d been.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang, and you were sure if you didn’t have superpowers you would’ve been exhausted. School is kinda draining when you actually acknowledge people. Ally and Betty share your complaints about being tired on your drive home, all three of you agreeing you need naps. You kiss them both on the cheek and wave goodbye before heading up to your room.

Forget what I said about having superpowers. I’m fucking tired. You lay down on your bed, groaning into the pillow at the thought of having to patrol tonight. You sat up abruptly. You’d never dreaded patrol, it was always the thing you looked forward to. You glance towards the suit in your closet and sigh.

It’s not patrol I’m nervous about. It’s him. You feel incredibly guilty about today. I’m not a two timer. If I want to like Peter, I have to talk to Spiderman about that kiss first. You start to make your way over to the closet before another wave of exhaustion hits, sending you straight back to your bed.

After a nap. Then we’ll talk.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #avengers #marvel #spiderman #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut

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mypunkpansexualtwin · 3 years

Text

Noticing the Little Things

-shows up a week late to Kiss Ryuji Day with Starbucks- I’ve contributed to a fandom event! mo you didn’t contribute shit I’ve contributed! Took a break from Misguided Wingman, so instead of a WIP Wednesday, y’all are getting 6.6k words of fluff instead!

Under a cut cause that’s a little much, and link to AO3 in the reblogs cause tumblr does terrible things to posts with links in them.

Hey, come meet my mom!

Ryuji had sprung the offer on him last minute via dead of the night text. It wasn’t as though he’d been trying to catch Ren off guard intentionally; it was more a matter of this being her first full day off in nearly a month that hadn’t fallen through for one reason or another. Ren had quickly learned that those sorts of days were few and far between, and notoriously difficult to plan around because of it. Even rarer were the days where both Sakamotos’ schedules lined up for a full day of quality time, especially now with the addition of Phantom Thievery. And Ryuji had offered to share this once in a blue moon opportunity with his best friend. Naturally, even as tired as he’d been when the message came through, Ren had jumped at the chance. For once it (mostly) didn’t have anything to do with his crush on his best friend that could have been viewed from space, Ren was just excited to finally meet the woman whose praises Ryuji’d been singing since they met.

The next morning, Ryuji had texted him again uncharacteristically bright and early--especially for a Sunday--hoping to put their heads together for something nice to do for her. He didn’t want her to do a bunch of work on one of her rare days off and Ren didn’t blame him one bit. He pitched the idea of takeout; no effort to cook, no dishes to wash, only trash to take out after. Ryuji shot it down, hesitant to admit that they couldn’t quite afford enough takeout for all three of them this late in the month and even less willing to ask Ren to cover the whole thing. Which meant going out to eat somewhere was probably also a no-go. And then Ren was struck by divine inspiration.

Or rather, he looked down at the breakfast that Sojiro had so kindly prepared for him before Leblanc opened. And then he texted Ryuji.

What if I made curry?

And that was how he ended up spending the rest of his morning at the grocery store, picking through produce with such a critical eye that it would have brought a tear to Sojiro’s. He’d assured Ryuji several times over that it was no trouble, he needed the practice anyway and he’d gotten some sizable bonuses from a couple of his jobs, so the shopping was no issue. Ren sent the list of what he needed and, after a little more convincing, Ryuji had sent back a list of what they didn’t already have in the apartment, as well as a promise to have the kitchen ready when he arrived and to do dishes after all of his friend’s hard work. On top of the rest of his list, Ren added a nice tuna filet for Morgana, who’d be stuck in Yongen all day rather than risk getting anyone in trouble for bringing the not-a-cat to the Sakamoto apartment.

Ren double checked his bags and tried to shake off the feeling that he was missing something while Morgana halfheartedly berated him between bites of fish for being left behind. Halfway down the stairs to the cafe, it hit Ren and he couldn’t help but feel a little dumb for forgetting. His thumbs skated over his phone screen to ask Ryuji a question, only to get a question himself from Sojiro.

“Got everything you need to impress your mother-in-law, kid?” His tone was teasing as he looked over the boy’s armful of groceries. Ren sputtered an objection that was less actual coherent words and more disconnected, indignant noises, red as the bell peppers he’d selected as his caretaker chuckled. His phone buzzed as Ryuji’s answer came in.

“Actually…” Ren managed after the worst of the heat faded from his cheeks. “I was wondering if I could borrow a couple of things?”

-----

“Out.” Ren commanded, brandishing a freshly washed carrot like a dagger and flicking the water off of it at his friend.

“Hey! It’s my kitchen!” Ryuji argued but stepped back anyways with his hands up in a vain attempt to shield himself from the droplets.

“They’re my groceries. Go sit, I’m cooking.” Ren retorted and turned back to the cutting board. Sakamoto-san’s laugh could be heard from the living room, not that that was very far. It was a small apartment and the kitchen and living room weren’t so much two separate rooms as they were one room about the size of Leblanc’s attic interrupted by a short stretch of countertop. When he’d first come in, Sakamoto-san had scooped up the groceries from Ren’s arms before he’d gotten half a word of greeting out, Ryuji had dragged him off for a quick tour of the apartment, and he’d come back to everything he’d need laid out in a neat array next to the stove in the five minutes he’d been distracted.

“He fusses if he doesn’t get to help.” She explained while Ren worked. “He does it to me, too, y’know.” He couldn’t help but wonder with a roll of his eyes where ever could his best friend have gotten that habit from?

“Oh I fuss if I don’t get to help?” The blond asked dryly and then helpfully voiced Ren’s inner sarcastic inquiry: “Wonder where I picked that up?” A smile found its way onto Ren’s face as they continued bantering back and forth while he worked, Sakamoto-san sipping on tea in front of the television and Ryuji leaning on the counter from the living room side to watch his best friend cook.

It was comfortable, but not quite in the same way Leblanc had become; the cafe was a place to rest, to breathe, to hide. His attic bedroom felt undeniably safe, but was somehow paradoxically isolated from the world around it and almost entirely devoid of privacy. The apartment, though… With the sound of the tv providing soft background noise to Ryuji and his mother’s easy conversation and the smell of curry spices filling every corner of the small space, it felt safe in a way that felt like home, in a way the attic hadn’t quite managed yet, in a way his own home hadn’t really felt since he was a little kid. Something tense in Ren’s chest unwound and he hadn’t realized he was humming until Ryuji and Sakamoto-san had stopped talking to listen. It wasn’t even particularly good, at least as far as he was concerned, but it was the only way to get rid of the Velvet Room’s mysterious song when it got stuck in his head like it lived there. The silence stretched for an uncomfortable beat when he realized he had an audience.

“Um.” He glanced up from the frying pan for a moment, then quickly back down to it to hide his blush after meeting two matching sets of wide, brown eyes watching him. Nothing like an unblinking stare to make one self-conscious. “S-sorry. Did I interrupt you two?”

“Oh no, not at all! You have a lovely voice, Ren. Don’t let us stop you.” Sakamoto-san insisted with a kind smile that turned a little too knowing as she glanced over at her son.

“Yeah, man, you ain’t gotta quit ‘cause of us.” Ryuji affirmed, still watching him with a grin and a warm, wide-eyed look that the other boy couldn’t quite put a name to. “And she’s right, you’re pretty good. Hell, maybe we shoulda gone to that karaoke place for real the one time so you could show off.” Heat rose to Ren’s face that had nothing to do with the food he was cooking.

“Well, we could always go back, make that our next celebration after-- uh,” Ren quickly changed course before he accidentally blurted out ‘after the next change of heart’ in front of Sakamoto-san, “after exams. Get everyone together, take turns picking songs, that sort of thing.” Ren suggested. “Of course, that means you’d have to sing, too.”

“No way--!” The blond tried to object before his mother cut him off in her own excitement.

“Oh that sounds so fun!” She grinned more widely, with a mischievous gleam in her eye. Ren had seen an identical look on her son’s face enough times to slightly dread whatever she was about to say. “Maybe you boys could do a duet? I know a few songs that’d--”

“Mommmm!” Ryuji groaned indignantly while Ren smothered a laugh and prayed any color in his cheeks could be written off as a result of leaning over the hot stove.

-----

Ren watched a flurry of movement from where he’d gotten up to stir the curry and break out the pour-over setup. Boss had only let him borrow this one because it had been chipped a few years prior--still functional, but no longer restaurant quality--and because Ren had laid the flattery on especially thick when he begged to use it.

“Ooh, you’re gonna make coffee? I’ll be right back, I know what else’ll go perfect with it!” Ryuji had jumped up and all but bolted for the door. “Be right back!”

“Wait, I was just--” He tried to tell the blond, but the door had already snapped shut before he could finish, “--setting it up.” He sighed and offered a helpless shrug to Sakamoto-san. “It’s supposed to go with the curry, but that’s going to be simmering for a while.”

Sakamoto-san chuckled and smiled fondly in the direction her son had disappeared. “You know how excitable he can be, and he’s been looking forward to introducing us for a couple of months now.” She stood and stretched with a groan, then walked over and leaned on the counter. Ren could practically feel her gaze on him as he worked; even with as warm and casual as the look on her face was, something in her eyes felt scrutinizing. He was being sized up with no idea as to why. Sakamoto-san’s smile stayed in place, as gentle as before when she asked, “why not brew us each a cup anyway? Ryuji’s been raving about the one you made him and how well it’d go with old lady Ueda’s ginger peach danishes since the beginning of summer. And since he’s even less of a coffee drinker than I am, I’m eager to see the master at work.”

“If you want to see the master at work, you’ll have to come by Leblanc and meet So-- um, Sakura-san.” He explained with a nervous, slightly forced chuckle of his own. After a moment of internal debate, Ren nodded. “But I did bring enough for everyone to have a couple of cups. Couldn’t hurt to see if you like it as much as Ryuji does. Maybe I’ll impress you just as much, Sakamoto-san.” That had been exactly why he was doing this, why he had worked so hard to convince Boss to part with even a little of his cafe equipment.

She barked a laugh at that and startled Ren enough that he nearly knocked over the bag of coffee he’d traded away a full week of work for. “Two things. Three, actually. One, please just call me Hana. Because, two, I’ve been impressed with you for months, kid. And, three, don’t beat yourself up if you can’t impress me as much as Ryuji ‘cause that’s gonna be an awfully high bar to clear. I don’t know exactly what you did to do it, but you pulled him out of…” Hana-san trailed off with a sigh, and then continued with a slightly thick edge to her voice, “out of a pretty dark place, y’know. My boy adores you.”

With that and the overwhelming warmth in her eyes, Ren could feel his own throat tightening, but he managed to choke out a weak, “O-okay.” And then he couldn’t force anything else out. How were you supposed to react to hearing your probably-unrequited-crush’s mom tell you that said crush adored you? As if she could read the question on his face, she reached over to clap him on the shoulder encouragingly.

“Don’t worry about sayin’ anything, My sunshine’s told me you’re not much of a talker. Just make sure you keep showin’ him how much he means to you too, alright?”

“I will. Thank you, Hana-san.” He finally replied and got the same annoyed frown he’d gotten from Ryuji two days into their friendship, when he’d met his new nickname with Ryuji’s family name. Although responding to Renren with Sakamoto back then had been an attempt at teasing on Ren’s part, calling Sakamoto-san by just her given name felt like too much.

The door creaked open and pulled her attention off of Ren as Ryuji came bouncing through, nearly forgetting to kick off his shoes in his excitement to deliver the prized pastries.

“You weren’t kidding when you said this one was formal, sunshine.” She sighed. “And damn, I’ve never seen you make that trip so fast. You that excited to show off to your Renren? ” Ryuji squawked in offense and Ren could feel his face flame at how she’d emphasized his nickname.

“N-nah, he could probably sense that I was just about to ask about embarrassing baby pictures is all.” Ren deflected as he went back to prepping their coffee.

The only thing better than the look of utter betrayal Ryuji gave him was the one of unbridled delight on Hana-san’s face.

-----

Dinner had passed cheerfully, if somewhat raucously, as Hana-san and Ryuji regaled their guest with stories about Ryuji’s childhood, and the boys entertained her with stories about their time together since the beginning of the school year. Ren felt himself opening up more and more easily as the meal had gone by and even shared a few stories from his time working at Leblanc, as well as the specifics behind balancing the night’s coffee and curry. As per usual, Ryuji didn’t really seem to be absorbing the specifics, but seemed more than happy to watch his friend talk about something he was enthusiastic about. Ren was even openly laughing by the end of dinner while he and Ryuji recounted the time they had met up for lunch after separately incurring Ushimaru’s wrath by falling asleep in class, then bursting out laughing at each other’s identical chalk bruises on their foreheads. They didn’t mention that each of them still had the other’s half of the subsequent selfie set as their phone’s home screen.

Afterwards, the atmosphere in the apartment settled a little when Ryuji shooed both his mother and his best friend out of the kitchen to sort out leftovers and wash dishes. In the meantime, Ren and Hana-san sat in comfortable quiet in the living room while half-watching the talk show on tv and enjoying the last of the coffee and danishes. Ryuji had been spot-on, Ren noted, the flavor paired beautifully with what he’d been secretly calling the Kidd Blend since he first got his right hand man’s seal of approval. As per usual, even if Ryuji didn’t have a head for the specifics, his instincts were unparalleled.

“He’s got good taste, right?” Hana-san remarked as she watched Ren’s thoughtful chewing. He nodded. Again with that uncanny ability to read him; it would have been unsettling if he hadn’t already been used to it from Ryuji and just figured that she was where he got it from. She cracked a smile after taking another sip from her coffee and said, “I gotta admit, I was skeptical when he said it was good enough to go with our favorite dessert. Figured he was just talking you up again ‘cause I’ve never had a cup of coffee I actually liked. I only drink it if I need the caffeine fix. But this? This is damn good.” Hana-san drained the cup and let out a satisfied sigh before she settled back a little further into her seat.

At that point Ren had been keeping a running tally of how many little gestures and features Hana-san and her son had in common. Despite their differences physically--where Ryuji was tall and all lean, hard lines, Hana-san was considerably shorter than her son and built soft and sturdy--there was no denying they were mother and son with as many quirks and features as they had in common. The same warm, brown eyes that tilted upwards just a little at the outer corners; the same bright smile that lit up their entire faces and laughter that filled every corner of the room; the same animated manner of speaking, all open expression and wild gestures to tell a story; the same bright quality to their voices, loud and boisterous without being overwhelming. The same way of making him feel like he’d known them all his life within the span of a few hours. That last one was about when he’d lost count, and therefore couldn’t say where he was when he noted that even with the difference in their specific posture, the two even relaxed the same way when they sat. Ryuji tended to sprawl out and Hana-san seemed more comfortable curling up when she sat, but they both had something loose and open about the way they sat, something oddly approachable.

“You’re always welcome to come by Leblanc, Hana-san.” Ren said with a smile, then added somewhat proudly, “Although I’ll have to direct Boss since Ryuji only gets coffee when I make it.”

“We’ll see if I get some time. And seriously, kid, just Hana is fine. I’ve heard enough about you from Ryuji that I feel like I already know you.” She insisted.

“Wh- really?” His head snapped up from his drink. He knew that he and Ryuji were best friends, probably the closest friends that either of them had ever had. But he hadn’t actually thought about the fact that that meant Ryuji talked about him to other people. It was probably silly the way something that obvious could warm him from the inside and fill his chest with butterflies, but it did.

“Oh yeah. Honestly, I knew I liked you before he ever even said your name. It was like out of nowhere his grades started picking back up, I wasn’t getting any more calls about him skipping classes, he seemed motivated again, like he hadn’t been since…” Hana-san looked over at Ryuji, busy and oblivious in the kitchen, as her face darkened and her voice dropped before she continued, “since before that sonofabitch broke my boy’s leg.” The bitterness passed after a moment and she fixed Ren with a gaze brimming with that same overwhelming warmth and kindness from before. “I knew that whoever it was that brought my boy’s smile back… that was someone I wanted to meet, y’know? That was someone I wanted to thank. So, thanks Ren. You brought my sunshine back.”

“I… You’re welcome.” Ren mumbled. “It’s not…” He stopped himself from saying it wasn’t a big deal because that definitely wasn’t true. “I mean, he did just as much for me.” Then he took a sip from his coffee, at a loss for what else to say.

“I’m sure he did, he’s a good boy. But this is me thanking you, not him.” She shrugged as she watched him drink and her smile went crooked as her voice took on a teasing lilt. “Still, I guess if Hana is too informal for you, you could always just call me Mom. Might as well get in the habit now, right?”

So. Hot coffee coming out of one’s nose was very painful. That was the immediate sensation that momentarily distracted Ren from the shock of Hana-san’s statement. She jumped up in surprise as he choked on his drink, then quickly grabbed a dish towel from the nearby counter and handed it to him. He coughed a few times and wiped at the surprisingly little amount of coffee that he’d gotten on himself, before finally clearing his throat and wheezing out, “Excuse me?”

Hana-san was very clearly trying not to laugh at him while she gave him another of those warm smiles that just confused him this time. “I know you two are dating, I’m not blind, kid.” Ren’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Hard. It prompted another coughing fit and Hana-san couldn’t hold back from laughing this time. “Even if I was, I still would’ve picked up on it. You two are too obvious. It’s sweet, really. The way you light up when you’re watchin’ him? And the first time I finally got your name out of him, you were suddenly the only thing he wanted to talk about. ‘ Hey mom, I’m hanging out with Ren today, don’t worry ‘bout dinner for me, we’re gonna get ramen. Man, can’t believe Ren’s never been to a real arcade before. His hometown didn’t really have one, so I’m gonna show him my favorite tomorrow. Hey mom, me and Ren are going to the gym today, yeah we’re gonna be running, yeah I’m running again, didn’t I tell you? Nah, I don’t need anything for my birthday, I know money’s tight this week and Renren’s taking me fishing so it’s all good. Hey, did you know Ren hung the moon? Ain’t that sweet of him? I should do somethin’ to say thanks.’ Like I said, kid. Ryuji adores you.” Hana finished softly. Almost ruefully, but he missed that part. Ren’s head was spinning, out of sheer confusion and excitement and terror and hope that he’d been aggressively stomping down for months, as well as the fact that all the blood in his body seemed determined to rush to his face all at once.

“He… told you we’re dating?” He managed hoarsely, eyes flicking to Ryuji still washing dishes and still completely oblivious to their conversation with the water running. Did… Had Ryuji confessed to him without Ren realizing? Had those moments he’d dismissed as wishful thinking, bein’ free and my place is next to you, actually been what he hadn’t dared even hope for?

Had he been dating Ryuji Sakamoto this entire goddamn time without even realizing it?

“Well, no. At first I thought it was because he was nervous about coming out to me. I did what I could to let him know it wasn’t an issue, and since he never really changed how he talked about you, I figured he must have just been so excited to have such a wonderful boyfriend that he just... forgot to tell me.”

Ren barked out a rough laugh and then winced at the way it grated on his scalded sinuses. “Then that would make two of us, Hana-san. If I had realized this was that kind of ‘come meet my mom,’ I would’ve convinced Sojiro to let me bring one of the top-shelf blends.” A hollow laugh escaped him as Hana-san’s face fell.

“Oh. Oh… Ah shit, I’m so sorry! I went and made things awkward with him now, haven’t I?” She winced apologetically and looked down at the dishtowel when Ren handed it back. “And wasted that fantastic coffee on top of it, too. You’re sure you’re okay?” Ren waved the apology off.

“It’s fine, please don’t worry about it, Hana-san.” She frowned at him and he finally relented. “Hana. I just... have a couple questions for him now. That I have no idea how I’m gonna ask.” He ran a hand through his hair and glanced back at Ryuji again, who was nearly done cleaning up the kitchen.

“Well, good luck when you do. But I don’t think you’re gonna need it.” She assured him with a wink and a gentle clap on the shoulder. “So, if that wasn’t the top shelf stuff, what was it? Besides still pretty damn killer, obviously.”

“Huh? Oh. Second from the top. Still took some serious convincing and I’ll be working behind the counter at Leblanc all week to make up for it.” Ren flashed Hana a tired smile. “Worth it, though. Every non-coffee-drinker I impress is a win in my book.”

Her laugh in response took the sting out of his embarrassment. And his slightly burnt throat. “Well then, guess I will have to find a minute to come by, enjoy me some coffee, curry, and a captive audience.” Hana grinned and Ren couldn’t help but return it.

“I’ll look forward to the company.”

-----

Rather than walk straight to the closest station, Ren and Ryuji had decided to take the scenic route and loop through a nearby park once first. Ren stuck close to the blond, given that he was a lot more familiar with the area as one of his go-to running practice routes. That and, while it was refreshingly cool for Ryuji outside the apartment, Ren ran colder than his friend and was starting to get uncomfortably chilly. As if on cue, Ryuji fell into step right next to him and threw an arm around his shoulder, and Ren felt himself immediately relax into the touch to leech his right hand man’s body heat.

“I’m really glad you finally got to meet my mom. Glad you hit it off with her, gotta admit I was kinda nervous at first.” Ryuji finally said.

“Really? Why?”

“Well you know after my old man took off, it was just me ‘n her, yeah?” Ren nodded. “Even when I had other friends before… everything, Mom was always my best friend. Lame, right?” Ryuji gave a halfhearted, self-deprecating laugh. Ren nudged his shoulder a little more firmly against the blond, not willing to let the disparagement pass uncontested.

“Not at all, she’s pretty great. Wish I was half as close with my folks as you two are.”

“Right. Yeah, she is. Anyways, yeah, mom was always my best friend. So when you turned up--and it’s not like she said anything so I could be wrong--but when you turned up I think she was a little jealous? Not like tellin’ me not to hang out with you or anythin’, she’s been real glad to see me with friends again! But I was kinda worried she felt…” The blond trailed off, waving his free hand vaguely as he tried to come up with the right word.

“Pushed aside?” Ren supplied.

“Exactly! So even after I knew she’d warmed up to you after hearin’ about you so much, I was kinda nervous that she wouldn’t get along with you. So yeah, I’m glad you guys hit it off.”

“I’m glad, too.” He couldn’t help but wonder if Hana had told Ryuji what she’d told him, how she knew she liked Ren as soon as Ryuji started getting back on his feet again. There was no way she’d told him she was certain they were dating, although that probably would have made bringing it up easier for Ren, if no less awkward. It wasn’t as though he could just blurt out ‘hey are we dating, your mom was pretty convinced I’m your boyfriend and I’m really hoping she was right’. Well okay, he could if he could work up the nerve, but that was a pretty big ‘if.’

“Hey.” Ren could hear the frown in Ryuji’s voice and didn’t have time to react before his glasses were being tugged off his face and tucked into the collar of the other boy’s shirt. “You’re doin’ that thing again, where you’re overthinkin’ somethin’ and you disappear behind your damn glasses. What’s up?”

Ren blinked up at Ryuji a few times, barely registering that, huh, that was a habit of his wasn’t it, before the words “Why sunshine?” fell out of his mouth.

“Huh?” Ryuji fixed him with a puzzled look that shifted into one of flushed embarrassment as the question registered. “Oh, right, the nickname. Uh, my hair, mostly.”

“Makes sense. This is gonna sound dumb, but even though I know you bleach it, I was still surprised that your mom’s brunette.” Ren admitted. “I guess part of me was expecting her to be blonde, too.”

“I was actually aimin’ for her color the first time we bleached mine.” Ryuji admitted, then frowned like he hadn’t meant to say anything.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I didn’t… I wasn’t always so gung-ho about the whole ‘fine, you’re gonna call me a punk, I’ll give you an effin’ punk’ thing, y’know? That didn’t really click all the way into place ‘til I got Kidd.” The blond took a slightly shaky breath and exhaled deeply before shooting his friend a questioning glance. Ren nodded for him to continue. He wasn’t going to push and Ryuji knew that, but he was definitely curious. “Right. So, this was back when my leg was still healin’ last year. Had a rough day on it, came home feelin’ like ten kindsa shit, like bad enough I went straight to the bathroom and threw up I hurt so damn bad. And as I’m washin’ my face after, I catch how my face looks in the mirror and… and I look like just as much shit as I feel.” Ren could feel how sharply Ryuji spat the hollow, bitter laugh before he continued, “specifically, I looked just like my old man whenever he was hungover. Effin’ hated it, seein’ a face I had damn near blocked out ‘cause it’d been so long since I saw it just starin’ back at me from the mirror.” Ren wrapped his arm around his best friend’s shoulders the same way Ryuji’s was draped across his, then gave his best shot at a comforting squeeze.

Ryuji shot him a crooked smile and brightened as he kept talking. “Anyways, I told Mom what happened and asked if we could dye it the same color as hers. And she was totally down for it. So she went out, got a bleach kit, annnnnd when we used it, we totally overshot it. I lost track of time and turned my hair bright freakin’ yellow and patchy as hell, too,” he laughed. “And man, we laughed harder than we had in months at that. She spent the rest of the night callin’ me sunshine to mess with me, but it was nice seein’ her really smile again, y’know? So when she asked me the next day what kind of dye I wanted to cover it up with, I told her to grab more bleach and we’d try and even it out cause the blond grew on me. And honestly? The name did, too.” Ryuji shook Ren’s shoulder in warning. “But don’t tell her I said that.”

“My lips are sealed. It suits you, though. The name,” Ren affirmed and ruffled his hand through the shock of surprisingly soft, blond hair, “and the look.” Ryuji swatted his hand away with a laugh and let it settle back on his shoulder.

“Yeah. Long as I can get away with it, I’m keepin’ it.” Ryuji stretched and fixed Ren with a look. “Aight, now what were you actually thinkin’ about?”

“Uh, w-well.” Shit. Nothing else came to mind through the haze of mild panic that struck Ren. No excuses, no delays, no deflections. Oh, to hell with it, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Time to just rip the bandage off. “Your mom thinks we’re dating and you just forgot to tell her because you got caught up in being excited about it.”

“WHAT?!” Ryuji yelped and jumped back like he’d been burned. Not the best reaction, but Ren was already determined to just get it all out.

“Yeah. And as soon as she put it like that, I suddenly wasn’t sure that I just… hadn’t realized I’d accepted a confession at some point.” He explained, eyes fixed on the path in front of them. Ryuji laughed, high and nervous, bordering on slightly hysterical.

“Wh-when would I have even--”

“My place is next to you.” Ren’s heart was hammering in his chest hard enough that he was worried it might crack a rib or five.

“...oh. Right. Okay, yeah, that’s… that’s fair.” Ryuji had stopped walking and was frowning at the concrete as he scuffed the toe of his shoe at it. “So you been tryin’ to let me down easy or somethin? Don’t worry about it, dude, that wasn’t…” He trailed off and Ren finally turned to face him. The pang that squeezed his heart left him breathless when he saw the look of utter disappointment on Ryuji’s face. Ren was frozen, even as something in the back of his head screamed at him to fix it before Ryuji got the wrong idea. The blond straightened up with a laugh that sounded more like a scoff and ran a hand through his hair. “Man, that explains all the ‘you know you can tell me anything’ conversations she’s been tryin’ to have lately. I was worried she’d caught on about the Phantom Thief stuff, but she just… God, do I even wanna know what you told her?”

Ren practically jumped at the opening. “I told her if I’d known it was that kind of ‘hey come meet my mom’ that I would have brought better coffee.” He tried to look his best friend in the eye as he confessed, but just… couldn’t. Better to focus on getting the words out however he could. “I haven’t been trying to figure out how to let you down easy, kind of the opposite, actually.” He did his best to ignore the quiet intake of breath that got, or the way Ryuji tensed in his peripheral vision. “I’ve been working up the courage to ask and bracing myself for when you shot me down. I… I really like you.”

“...forreal?” Ryuji’s voice was soft with disbelief.

“Yeah.” Ren’s voice cracked, nerves finally getting the better of him. But he could at least answer, even if he still couldn’t look the other boy in the eye.

“You… You like me? Like, like-like me?”

“Yes. Have for a while, now. I might... “ Ren cleared his throat and tried again. “I might be a little past just like at this point, honestly.”

A breathless, disbelieving chuckle followed by, “Seriously?”

“Mhm.” A stiff nod.

“Why?” Ryuji’s tone had escalated from disbelief to full-on incredulity, sapping away all of Ren’s nerves in favor of sheer indignance when he whipped around to his best friend.

“How could I not?!” Ren nearly shouted, just self-aware enough to be glad they were alone. “You’re brave, so goddamn brave and so goddamn kind, protecting people--total strangers, sometimes--and expecting nothing back! You’re ridiculously good-looking and have an amazing smile and the best laugh I’ve ever heard, not to mention you’re just so damn compassionate? Quick to help people and even quicker to apologize when you mess up, even with just the little mistakes, and you always mean it and try to do better. And I’ve never in my life met someone as loyal as you, never had someone that I could rely on the way I rely on you!” Ren ranted, slightly light-headed from how quickly the words just poured out of him. “For fuck’s sake, you saved my life when I was just some guy off the street! The Phantom Thieves wouldn’t exist at all without you, and I… I would have spent the rest of the year, maybe even the rest of my life hiding if I hadn’t met you--”

“Hey.”

“Huh?” When had Ryuji stepped so close? How had Ren not noticed those warm, calloused hands cupping his jaw and tipping his head back up to look back at a face that wore an achingly-sweet expression of pure admiration, tempered only by the hint of apprehension at the corners of those warm, brown eyes Ren was such a sucker for?

“I’m gonna kiss you now. Izzat okay?”

“Please.” Ren whispered as his heart jumped up into his throat and Ryuji’s flushed face drew closer.

Both boys’ eyes fluttered shut at the first brush of lips, soft and deliberate. The second was just as gentle, just as careful, even as Ryuji’s fingers twitched against Ren’s jaw like it was taking all of his self control not to just dive in. Like he’d been thinking about how to do it right, planning it for a while, and that thought made Ren’s stomach flip. He slid one hand up the nape of Ryuji’s neck and buried his fingers in his hair at the third kiss, and wrapped his free arm around the blond’s waist to pull him closer partway through the fourth. From there, he lost count. It was the seventh or eighth kiss that found him pressed up against a nearby tree, and something like the thirteenth before nerves gave way to excitement and one of them deepened the kiss. He stopped counting entirely after the cautious sweep of Ryuji’s tongue over his lower lip temporarily shorted out his higher brain functions and pulled an embarrassingly needy sound from the back of his throat. Somewhere in the distantly coherent part of his brain, Ren made a mental note to start buying gum or mints because coffee-and-curry breath was… not great for kissing. It still took the two of them several minutes to break apart because kissing Ryuji, finally actually kissing him, was so much better than he’d imagined, even after months of daydreaming.

“So…” Ren sighed against the corner of Ryuji’s mouth, their foreheads resting against each other as they caught their breath. “Just to make sure we’re on the same page, no room for confusion--”

“Oh my god Renren, seriously?!” The words didn’t have any bite, being equal parts incredulity and laughter as Ryuji shoved gently at Ren’s shoulder.

“I just wanna be sure!” Ren laughed right back.

“Are you effin’ serious, how can you not be-- fine.” Ryuji pulled him into a tight hug, peppering his face with kisses as he spoke. “Ren Amamiya,” kiss, “will,” kiss, “you be,” kiss, “my,” kiss, “boyfriend?”

“Yes.” Ren turned his head to catch another kiss that Ryuji had aimed at his temple, sliding his tongue into the blond’s mouth and kissing him hard enough that his best friend was scarlet when he pulled away. “I would love to.”

Then he kissed Ryuji again. And again. And again.

-----

Eventually, Ren and Ryuji had broken apart long enough to return his glasses and get him on a train back to the cafe. He had been grinning like a dork for the entire ride and practically floated back into Leblanc when he got back, earning a weird look from Morgana on the counter. Sojiro was too busy to notice, nearly done cleaning up with most of the dishes already put away and the next day’s curry prepped and simmering. Ren stepped in, grabbed the washcloth off the side of the sink and started wiping down the counter.

“I can finish cleaning, you go ahead and get home to Futaba.” He insisted.

“Well you’re in a good mood. I take it you impressed the mother-in-law?” Boss teased.

“Yep, I think I did!” Ren chirped from behind the counter, then tried not to laugh. Sojiro did a double take and his face flickered through several expressions at once--sly and teasing, smug triumph, confusion, recognition, and further confusion--as he realized his ribbing hadn’t landed like it had just that afternoon.

Eventually he let out a “hmph” before probably deciding not to ask. “Don’t forget to lock up, and put back everything you borrowed, alright? I’ll see you in the morning.”

Ren waved as the door jangled shut behind him and hummed cheerfully as he worked.

“I take it you two idiots finally figured it out?” Morgana asked and Ren only grinned. At that point his face was starting to hurt from smiling so much. “Blech, glad I missed out.” The cat stretched languidly before hopping down and trotting up the stairs. “Congratulations, though. Taste notwithstanding, I’m happy for you two.”

“So you don’t want the play-by-play?” Ren called after him.

“I will steal your bed and make you sleep in a booth!”

#my writing #kiss ryuji day #persona 5 #pegoryu #akiryu #how obvious is it that I never write kissing like. ever.#no beta we die like [December spoilers]#which is to say. ambiguously.#oh my god I actually finished a wip it's a christmas miracle

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andromedasstarship · 3 years

Text

in the stars - chapter 2

photo credits - @ssahotchnerr

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, show rating 16+ for reference. depictions of violence, stalking, murder, angst, age gap couple, language

summary - You and Aaron reunite, but it’s not exactly anything to celebrate over. The case moves forward, but you really wish it hadn’t like this.

a/n - no one is allowed to call me out on my lack of LA/california geographical knowledge. ive also started including readers mental thought train which is italicized (flashbacks will also be in italics, but ill always properly mark a flashback). if you arent tagged but asked, just send another ask/reply! i mustve missed it on accident.

blog rules

masterlist // read it on ao3 here

chapter 1 // chapter 3

-----

Chapter 2

Aaron Hotchner was standing in front of you. Impeccable, not even a slight crease in his shoes and suit pressed to perfection. He still smelled faintly like cedar, a thought you quickly tried to send away; it was too late though, already remembering how pitiful it was post breakup, when you would smell the shirts he left at your house, a desperate attempt to remember that he existed in your life. You’d spent hours, days even, thinking about how you’d react if you were ever to see Aaron in person again. At the top of the list was screaming at him, really giving him a piece of your mind for leaving the way he did. Or, maybe you’d be cool and composed, the epitome of maturity and ‘I’m Totally Over You’. You’d even considered completely ignoring him, not even giving him a second glance. Instead you were frozen to the spot, staring up at the man who broke your heart.

Pulling your eyes away from him, they darted towards the gap between his body and outside, internally debating if you’d be able to somehow sneak around him. As if he could read your mind, not like you had been particularly subtle, he moved to close the gap before you had the chance to fully formulate an escape.

“Y/N,” he tried again, voice a bit firmer this time around. It’d be better if he couldn’t speak. But then again he had such a beautiful voice-. No, you mentally clamped down on that thought before it could lead you down another rabbit hole. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you, uh, what?” You asked, hyper aware of how mousy you must’ve sounded.

“That someone was murdering women that looked like you. You should’ve called my team sooner, it was irresponsible to put yourself at further risk of-”

“Are you trying to imply that this is somehow my fault, Agent Hotchner?” The words felt bitter on your tongue. It wasn’t like you, to suddenly be so quick to anger. Years in the spotlight had taught you to hold your tongue, but Aaron’s words managed to cut right through.

“That’s not what I’m saying, you know that-,” he tried to interject, but you weren’t going to back down so easy.

“I know what Agent? Please, tell me the acceptable response to this situation,” you spat out at him, finding a brief enjoyment in the way his face scrunched up ever so slightly. “The police were working on the case, I’ve dealt with weirdos before.” Aaron opened his mouth again as if to speak, but you weren’t finished, “You really think I believed you’d answer if I called?”

His face fell at that and you felt some form of internal victory swell in your chest. Y/N 1 point, Aaron Hotchner 0. The victory was short lived though, as you came to the realization that the two of you were still in a very public setting.

“I’m not going to fight with you Agent, I suggest you get back to your team.” With that you shoved your way past him, stomping the entire way to your car. It was a shame, the way the anger and sadness was consuming you, maybe if it hadn’t, this time you would’ve noticed the clicking coming from the tree line.

----

Hotch wished you had been angry; it would’ve been easier to handle you if you had been screaming in his face or throwing low-blow comments his way. He could deal with anger. It’d be easier if he could pretend that you were being completely out of line and could warrant being ignored for the rest of the case.

That wasn’t you though, and he knew this. He didn’t have to be a profiler to see and hear the way you struggled to hold yourself together. He didn’t need to be a profiler to feel how disappointed you were with him. Hotch didn’t know how to deal with this or you. Even though it had been months, had he truly fallen so far from your graces; was your opinion so lowly of him now?

Hotch wasn’t sure which was worse to stomach, the fact that you had such little faith in him or the deep rooted feeling in his gut that told him you were right- had you called him unannounced two months ago, he wouldn’t have picked up the phone.

----

You sat in your car for twenty minutes, at least. It was pitiful, the way you were crying in your car, to a sad playlist, over a guy who hurt your feelings; it felt like high school all over again. In the moment, you had felt good, the way you watched Aaron’s face twist and fall at your words giving you some sick form of satisfaction.

It’s not like you had lied to him or anything. You hadn’t even stretched the truth for ultimate impact. The whole overly formal ‘Agent’ thing was definitely on purpose though. No, you had meant every word you said to Aaron, especially about not believing he’d answer if you called. What would you have even said if you called and he did pick up? Hi Aaron, remember me? Good, anyway hope you’re doing well but I think I have a murderous stalker, can you help? Actually, that’s probably exactly how the conversation would’ve gone, but that’s beside the point.

The point was that even if you could trust the Unit Chief of the BAU to do his job, you weren’t sure you could trust Aaron Hotchner anymore.

----

When you finally did muster up the courage to return to the conference room, you really wished you hadn’t. You should’ve just turned your car on and left. Was it possible to ghost the FBI? You’d heard enough stories from Aaron about how their tech wizard had found people with just a single loose thread, there was definitely no way you were going to make some spy like disappearance.

Aaron wasn’t in the room, something you were grateful for in the moment. But what you weren’t grateful for was how the team had managed to set up multiple bulletin boards in your absence; filled with your photo, crime scene photos, the dead women and your personal least favorite, the dead women’s bodies.

Of course, you knew what was going on, you were a big girl, well old enough to understand and process the gravity of the situation. But you’d only seen photos of the women alive, with personality and humanity; something about that made them look less like you and more like them. Looking at them now- dead, eyes closed, faces tilted away from the camera- these women didn’t just look like you, they were you.

You hadn’t even realized you were drifting closer to one of the boards until you felt a hand pull at the crook of your elbow. Turning your head ever so slightly you saw JJ, giving you one of her nice looks again.

“Y/N, you don’t need to see these,” JJ started, already pulling you in the opposite direction. You were about to agree, head already halfway to a full nod when you noticed something from the corner of your eye.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, pulling your arm back and getting right in front of a photo of victim #2. You very gently pulled the photo of the wall and held it closely in front of your face. Were you allowed to move it? Oh well. You felt the rest of the team’s eyes burning holes through your back so you turned to face them. “I, um, I’m pretty sure the sweater she’s wearing is mine.” You said, voice coming out as a whisper.

The team certainly seemed to liven up at that statement. Even though they hadn’t even been in LA for a full 24 hours yet, it was obvious from the start that LAPD hadn’t been lacking on the case, rather the unsub was just that good. They reported no evidence from any dump sites,- and now those sites had been contaminated far too much to double check- there had been no witnesses for any of the abductions, and the unsub hadn’t attempted any contact with Y/N; all in all, they had nothing.

“Y/N, are you sure?” Emily asked, she was quickly pulling photos of the other three women down, bringing them over to the roundtable. “Are the women in these photos wearing anything else you recognize?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m sure. There’s a little hole right there, on the side, the threads were pretty loose and I got stuck on a doorknob once, ripped it right open. I couldn’t find it when I went to fix it, just assumed I threw it away and forgot.” You said quietly, moving your way to the table. Your brain wasn’t working properly, hadn’t quite yet come to the conclusion that the rest of the agents already reached. He had gotten into your house. “Oh my god.” You whispered, voice shaking. “He was in my house, wasn’t he?”

The agents all looked down at you with sympathetic gazes before Emily finally spoke up again. “We can’t be sure just yet, but I need you to look at these photos and tell me if you recognize anything else okay? Can you do that for me?”

You nodded, making your way over to the table and taking a seat. You were well aware one of the agents just called for Hotch, but you couldn’t be bothered with that right now.

----

“Hotch,” Derek said, his voice urgent as he rounded the corner, interrupting whatever conversation Hotch was having with a random officer, “Y/N recognized the sweater victim #2 was wearing at the dumpsite as hers. Emily’s showing her the rest of the photos and it’s looking like the unsub left something of hers on each one.”

That certainly got Hotch’s attention. He didn’t need Derek to fill in the blank, the unsub had been in your house. His fists tightened at his side and he couldn’t help the way his face twisted in anger. In this state, Derek knew better than to question this unusually personal reaction, instead just angling his body back towards the conference room. He didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth before Hotch brushed past him, making his way back to you.

----

Starting with a photo of victim #1, you very slowly pulled it closer in front of you. Oh my god, her neck. Obviously, you’ve seen bruises before, been on a whole bunch of film sets that used makeup to create some pretty gory pieces, but nothing like this. The unsub didn’t just stangle these women, it was like he wanted to completely crush their throats.

One of the agents behind you was questioning your ability to stomach this, so you quickly forced yourself to focus. It was the least you could do for these poor women, just give them your undivided attention for ten minutes, and then you could deal with everything else later.

Your finger traced over the bracelet victim #1 was wearing. “This is mine. There’s a singular heart engraved on the back of the third diamond’s plating. I bought it for myself after I got cast in my first big role, cried for weeks when I ‘lost’ it.”

“And what about this one?” Emily asked, gently pulling victim #1’s photo away from you and replacing it with #4. You didn’t miss the way she turned the photos you’d already looked at upside down, as if to further shield you from them. Nor did you miss that she was technically skipping victim #3.

It didn’t take you long to notice what was yours on victim #4. “It’s the dress, it’s really comfy, I used to wear it a lot, like a lot a lot. I brought it with me so often on trips I just assumed it got left in a hotel room somewhere.”

Emily nodded, taking back that photo and turning it over as well. You could see her hesitation in showing you victim #3, but she slid it across the table to you as well. Her fingertips ghosting on the edge of the photo, ready to pull it back as soon as you gave an answer.

Victim #3 was tough. She looked the most like you, both when she was alive and certainly the way she looked now.

You took a sharp intake of breath as you looked down at her the first thing that caught your eye was the necklace. Most certainly yours and most certainly the one that Aaron had given you for your three year anniversary. You realized it was lost a few months after the breakup and nearly tore your house apart looking for it; you didn’t have many things from your relationship with Aaron to prove he was once part of your life, making the few things you did have all the more important. “The necklace, there’s an A engraved on the back and I’m pretty sure those shoes are mine too.” Emily swept the photo back and out of view as soon as the last words left your lips.

“JJ, get those items out of evidence immediately so we can be absolutely sure,” Hotch ordered. Aaron. You hadn’t even realized he had walked into the room, you turned to look at him, eyes wide with sadness and fear. The tears that were beginning to form tugged viciously on his heart. “Miss L/N, my team and I are going to escort you back to your home and we’re going to need to canvas it for signs of entry and identify if anything else is missing. Is that okay?” He asked, his voice soft with something most of the members couldn’t place.

You simply nodded at that, glad that you wouldn’t have to be alone, “Do you need my address, or will you just follow my car?” There was definitely humor in that, Aaron already knew exactly where you lived and the code to get through the gates.

“Your address is already in our files, but for your safety we’ll be following close behind.” He assured you. The rest of the team was jumping into action, grabbing their personal belongings along with copious amounts of gloves and bags you assumed would be for potential evidence.

As you all exited the building and entered your respective vehicles, it was Reid who realized where he’d heard that softness in Hotch’s voice before. It was the same tone he used to use with Hayley, back when things were good.

----

Your house wasn’t far and it was a drive you knew well; grateful for the ability to somewhat distract yourself on the road. The gatesman to your development gave you a real odd look when you told him the two black SUV’s filled with FBI agents were with you, but you couldn’t care less about which neighbor he might spread that info too. Did you see? L/N brought in the FBI, wonder what she’s caught up in. At least all the neighbors and workers had signed airtight NDAs, no one was allowed to talk to any outsiders about the personal happenings of their fellow residents.

Your house was towards the top of the hill, with a great overlook to the ocean. You had only been 20 when you bought the house and you viewed it as the ultimate achievement of all your hard work and determination. You couldn't shake the bad taste in your mouth as you pulled up the driveway. The house felt tainted now, something you were never sure you’d be able to shake.

----

Once again, not exactly how you imagined the entire team entering your house for the first time. Your house was extensive, as were the grounds; the team quickly realized they would probably be here for the rest of the day and well into the night.

You were standing awkwardly in the middle of your foyer, unsure of how to exactly approach this situation. “So, there’s about 10 rooms in the house, not including the kitchen and general living spaces, as well with the basement which is technically one big room. I made maps once as a joke, I think I have some in the office, if you wanted those? Or we could do one big house tour and you can break off that way,” you were so rambling, but them being in your house and why they were in your house was setting in, “or you can just go off however you want-”

“Miss L/N,” JJ said, there was that nice look again, “why don’t you show me around the house so I can get a base level understanding of everything there is. The rest of my team will go start a basic canvas of the inside and the grounds as well.” Thank you JJ.

You nodded at this, glad that someone else was taking control of the situation. Before you could lead JJ towards the kitchen, your phone started to ring, startling you. When did you get this skittish?

“My friend is calling,” you said, holding up your phone, “I gotta take this, I was supposed to meet him for coffee a few minutes ago.” You excused yourself, quickly making your way to an empty room away from the rest of the team. Your friend was annoyed at your more than last minute cancellation, but luckily he didn’t pry too hard and accepted your flimsy “I’m not feeling too well’ excuse on the first go.

“I know, I’m sorry, but I promise I’ll make it up to you as soon as I feel better. Yeah, I love you too. I gotta go, bye.” As you hung up, you could feel a gaze burning into the back of your head. Turning around, you found Aaron staring down at you from the doorway. How long had he been there?

“You should have told us about your boyfriend sooner. Trying to protect him from questioning will only-”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you exclaimed, a bit too hurriedly, “I, uh, I’m not seeing anyone at all actually, haven’t in a while.” Smooth.

Aaron was smart enough to read through the lines and understand what you had left unsaid. His gaze didn’t give up, but you could’ve swore you saw relief somewhere in his eyes. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to say something, or if he was supposed to say something, or should you walk out, or-

“Neither have I.” Hotch’s voice broke through your thoughts, but just as quickly as he said it, he turned on his heel and left you alone in the room.

----

a/n - if anyone is wondering ive 100% cried multiple times at how kind and supportive everyone has been with me about this story. we’re only 2 chapters in but im already sad for it to end. yes i 100% have a bunch of other wip ideas for hotch. anywaaaaaaay, replies/asks/comments/reblogs/likes always appreciated! thank you so much for reading

Taglist: @mac99martin @iwaizumiee @kylorendrip @hqtchner @lieswithoutfairytales @ssahoodrathotchner @midsummernightdream @weasleylovers @evans-dejong @itsmytimetoodream @yoshigguk @28cnn @cuddlyklaus @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

no permission is given to republish or upload my fics anywhere else. if you see this story not on my tumblr or ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own criminal minds or any of the characters involved

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #'stori writes #in the stars

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baeklination · 3 years

Text

🎃 Being

Date: 211001

Warnings: it starts smutty (not explicit wording) so eyes closed if you're too young!, if you're a terrible scaredy-cat (particularly of the dark) you might want to skip this.

Characters: Baekhyun, Reader

WC: 1,2k

Masterlist

¤¤

The pillows your hands crush, your head buries in; the wrinkled sheets and plush covers; the bluish light covering everything, it's all yours. You're in your own bed - it's a lucid dream. Aware enough to enjoy, but away enough to just let it happen.

The pulsing against your ass, the image of his crisp shirt hanging open at your sides, his dewy, blonde hair dangling to-and-fro, the creaking of the bed posts and his wet breathing - it's all in a delicious delirium.

"I've … been waiting to have you…", he whispers, ripping his shirt off, laying down.

His weight feels good on your back, his hungry grinding and touching are sensual euphoria. Kissing you behind the ear, a scent travels to your nostrils. Difficult to put your finger on, but off, somehow. Seeming to be released by his continuous rubbing against you, a smell - stench - overcomes the room. It's putrid. Mushed oranges green with mildew, a soiled diaper, puss from an infected wound. The atmosphere grows dark and heavy; you squirm to get away, rocking back and forth but unable to speak. You have to wake up. Have to. Screaming internally you, thankfully, feel the electric buzzing over your skin - you're going up.

"No, wait for me", he begs, acidic saliva running down your neck.

Pong…

Your skin settling down, you look out over the bedroom - you're awake. With a crushing feeling around your heart you take a few breaths "you're okay, you're okay…".

"Ugh…"

You pinch your nose and snort, trying to get the remnants of the stench out, but failing, you start to get up. Pushing your foot over the edge of the bed something...

An uneasy feeling in your gut mixes with a reasonable one in your head "just look so you can feel ridiculous". Hanging your head down you peer into the darkness...nothing. You sigh, but look some more. Two feet in, like yellow beads, eyes appear, looking straight at you. Screaming at the top of your lungs you throw yourself into the headboard, seeing a dark, not entirely solid figure dash out of the bedroom. Jumping out of bed, leg getting tangled in your covers, you crash violently into the radiator, ribs first. Doubling over, cradling yourself from the jarring pain you find the chord to your lamp, but in your panic pull it down on the floor, the bulb shattering at your feet. Keeping your eyes fixed on the doorway you feel for your phone on the nightstand and, locating it, stand up to push the window open just as you hear your door get pummeled. Crying out from the pain, you squeeze your body through the gap and topple onto the fire escape, the harsh metal digging into your body, a chilling breeze blowing through the bars. Peering over the edge into your room, dialing emergency services, the hallway lights up and a figure rushes to the doorway calling your name; Kee, your neighbour, with panic in his face and a hammer at the ready in his hand.

•

"And you say the door was locked when you tried. You're sure?", the officer asks Kee.

"Yeah, I had to bust it open. No way it was unlocked."

After refusing to set foot in the apartment Kee had gone out to the fire escape, helping you down on your wobbly legs and taken you to his place. Not at ease with the proximity to which he lived to you - the paradox being that he managed to help because of it - he carefully looked in every nook and cranny, turning on the lights in every room before you moved away from the wall to sit down.

Relaying what had happened, not leaving any part out, but also not a hundred percent positive things had really been the way you had perceived them; were the eyes really yellow? They were, but...ye-llow..? Did the dream have anything to do with it? You'd been fully clothed when you woke up, so there was no doubt about it being a dream, but the stench…

Luckily he believed you and wondered about it the same as you. Making a huge cup of chamomile tea, looking over your ribs (his unused nurses degree coming to use) and deciding they probably weren't fractured, you waited for the police to arrive.

"M-hm… Miss, did you have anything to drink before going to bed?"

Flabbergasted, yet knowing this was coming - "hey mister policeman, a shadowy figure with yellow eyes was hiding under my bed" - you wouldn't believe it either, you stick to your guns.

"No, nothing. And no drugs, prescription or otherwise."

"Nothing over-the-counter..?"

"Are you kidding me..!", Kee bursts out. "Look at her! I found her on the goddamn fire escape in her pyjamas! Broke down the door 'cus of her screaming..!"

"Sir, you need to calm down…"

"Ca-! You're acting like she-"

"Kee!", you hiss, pulling at his t-shirt.

"- had a bad dream and called the cops!"

"If you don't calm down, sir...", the officer warns him again, casually putting his hand on his cuffs. "I'll have to remove you. Now, is that what you want?"

Incensed, Kee's eyes grow large and his jaw flies open, but realising you'll be left alone if he says another word he shuts his eyes, composing himself.

"Now… Have you been getting any strange phone calls, messages from anyone..?"

"No", you shake your head.

"Notice anything missing from your home? Things out of place..?"

"Ehm...no… I don't think so. I don't have a stalker, if that's what you mean."

"Just checking all the boxes, Miss. Sometimes we don't notice until we think about it closer."

•

"I don't think they'll find him…", you sigh, propping up your pillows, adrenaline giving way to drowsiness.

"Him..?"

"It. The thing, being. What ever it was."

"If it got scared off by you, then maybe he- it is gone for good..? I don't think you have to worry-"

"No, don't!", you protest, when he flicks the living room light off.

"Sorry, force of habit. But you can stay here as long as you want. I'll grab some stuff from your place tomorrow..?"

You nod, check under the bed for the gazillionth time, then get into it.

"Do you want me to stay up until you fall asleep?"

"Yes. But no. But face my way."

Searching the net for every and any story similar to yours might not be the best way to fall asleep, but you reckon you won't anyway so you stare at your phone for two hours. Eventually Kee's soft puffing works lullaby magic on you. Not enough to knock you out, but enough to make you put away your phone and pull the covers to your chin, looking at the little bits and bobs he's decorated his bedroom with. Looking at his poster you smile; it was given to him as a joke, minding his sometimes quick temper: a bright, computer animated sun with the words "remember, the sun is always shini-'' the flat goes pitch black.

"Kee!", you hiss, accidentally hitting him in the face going for his arm.

"Aoh, wha- shit", he whispers, sitting up.

Absolute darkness.

You grab onto his t-shirt, your chest a vacuum, tears burning behind your eyes...

#baekhyun scenario #baekhyun #halloween special

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jamaiskookie · 3 years

Note

i would like more soundcloud rapper yoongi x idol y/n please it’s so cute

v-live alert! -myg

pairing: idol! y/n x soundcloud rapper! yoongi

wc; 2.9k

a/n: lots of you asked, and so you shall receive. ps, i wrote this really rushed but i kinda love it. lmk what you think, love you guys <3

[V LIVE] Surprise LIVE!

the v-live notification. or, more accurately, the sound of war. alternatively, you dance around your studio on a livestream and yoongi has a mental breakdown.

masterlist PREV

“i miss you too!“ you say, replying to one of the first comments that pop up on the live.

you probably should’ve showered before going live... and you probably should’ve changed out of sweats.

whatever.

it’s not like your fans haven’t seen this before.

half of your pre-debut pictures are just downright disgusting.

the number of viewers on the top of your phone begins to climb up to the thousands, increasing every half a second.

it always amazes you how many people show up to your lives. sometimes you wonder if your fans genuinely have nothing better to do. how do they always show up so fast?

the comments begin to flood with greetings and exclamations of ‘oh my god i’m so early!11!1’ and the multicoloured heart pop up on your screen, building up an impressive stream of likes.

“where am i?“ you read through the comments and look around, as if you forgot where you were. “in the studio.“ you grin when the comments flood with questions asking if dreamcloud is getting new music.

you can’t answer, of course, but it’s fun to see. you squint at your phone, which is propped on an elaborate setup that you spent the past twenty minutes preparing.

(three books on one eyeshadow palette and a selfie stick gingerly placed on a small stool)

((you pray to every deity out there that it won’t fall))

“i was just bored,“ you shrug, speaking to the screen. “so i decided to come on here and talk to you guys. how have you been?“ you ask.

hundreds of comments answer.

“i’m alright“

“i’m good!“

most of them contain some form of sappy declaration like ‘my day is much better now that you’re here!’ it makes you smile. how cute.

the v-live notification.

or, more accurately, the sound of war.

that cursed, terrible ding! haunts yoongi’s darkest and most terrifying nightmares. the sheer amount of panic that rushes through his veins when he hears that godforsaken noise, god.

the number of lives he’s missed- yoongi can’t even bear to think about it.

so maybe it was a blessing in disguise that yoongi put his phone on do not disturb so he didn’t have to hear that disgusting sound. instead, he found out the news via a gorilla’s screech.

“Y/N’S LIVE RIGHT NOW STARTED FOURTY SECONDS AGO HURRY UP YOONGI GET YOUR ASS UP AND STOP STUDYI-“ jimin yells from his room down the hall.

yoongi almost falls out of his chair scrambling to get to his phone. it’s not like he was really studying anyways- more like using his pencils to tap out a cool-sounding beat on his desk out of boredom.

watching your live > passing his music theory class.

priorities.

with shaky hands, he grabs at his phone, slumping onto the floor and he sees the familiar blue icon with the notification popped up on the screen.

[V LIVE] Surprise LIVE! Y/N: let’s chat <3

an unnatural squeak that slightly resembles the sound a mouse slips out of yoongi’s mouth.

even when he was a baby starrie and was glued to his phone at all times, he’s never been this early to a live. he unlocks his phone, cursing his momentary clumsiness. he clicks into the live, smiling when your beaming face blasts up on his screen.

you haven’t gone live in so long- it’s nice to see your face again.

“- how have you been?“

“good.“ yoongi types out in the comment box, mumbling the words as he’s typing. “way better now that you’re live.“ sometimes yoongi cringes at himself when he types these things. i mean, who could possibly guess that min yoongi, resident scary-emo-couldslapyouintheface bad boy socially un-responsible simped over a k-pop idol?

he can already see his reputation go down the drain.

he also wonders what it says about himself that he’s a 20-something college student who’s life practically revolves around you, an idol who’s just about a year younger than him.

but dreamcloud is a part of his identity now. he identifies as a starrie no matter what. you know how the old saying goes-

once you stan, you can’t unstan. or something like that, he’s honestly not sure.

you tuck your head onto your hand, diligently trying to keep up with all the comment. with a gasp, you nod at something. “oh, you’re right, user yoonalova98!” - that’s another thing special about you. whenever you read out comments, you also read out the username of whoever wrote it.

you explained in one interview- that it’s cooler to give credit and talk to your fans as if you’re just chatting as friend. saying the username feels like you’re saying their names.

what kind of lucky fan would get their comment read aloud by Y/N?

ugh.

yoongi blinks when he remembers that technically, he’s sort of part of this group of elite, recognised fans.

his twitter stan account got almost five thousand more followers after Y/N replied to his selca. the post itself has tons and tons of likes and retweets.

insane, that Y/N- Y/N herself- knows of his existence. Y/N- the love of his life, has seen his FACE. she commented three HEART emojis below a selfie that he took.

if he thinks about it too much, he’ll start feeling faint again.

“our anniversary is coming up soon! i can’t believe it’s been three years already. time does pass by when you’re having fun.“ you say. yoongi thinks that it’s rather ironic that you would forget your anniversary, when yoongi’s had a calendar countdown to January 14th since the beginning of september.

“ahh,“ you say, leaning in closer to the screen. “from user lialiarach, ‘did you watch jisoo unnie’s acting debut’ - i did! we all watched it and cheered her on during the premiere!“

jisoo’s new drama is good. it’s a fantasy-horror blend, and he, jimin, namjoon and jin finished all 16 episodes in two days when streaming hit Netflix.

your head tilts and you smile. “song recommendations?” you wonder aloud, and yoongi scrambles to get a pen and notepad out. you don’t do ‘y/n’s listening parties’ as much anymore, but your taste in music is impeccable and he collects all the songs in a playlist.

it’s called ‘wedding tunes’ (jimin named it, not him, yoongi swears)

everytime he tries to change it back, it somehow switches back to wedding tunes the next day.

it’s disturbing how good jimin is at this kind of stuff. hopefully yoongi won’t have to bail him out of jail one day.

“okay!“ you say, pulling your laptop open. you hum as you scroll through some page that yoongi can’t see- and he anxiously waits for the first song to be played with twitchy hands and a strong grip on his pen.

the first bar plays out and yoongi’s already in love.

“this is,“ you say over the music, double checking just to make sure. “don’t need your love by NCT...“ you squint. god knows there are too many NCT members. “dream! NCT dream featuring HRVY.“

“NCT dream...“ yoongi mumbles to himself, writing the song down on the notepad.

“you know,“ you say over the music, spinning in your chair and nodding to the beat. “i’ve only met the NCT guys a couple times at music shows and such but they’re all so nice. i can’t remember all their names, but i’m decently familiar with their faces. how do they even have 23 members? how does it all work??“

you dance around the studio, singing along nonsensical lyrics that don’t make sense but sort of fit the rhythm of the song (??)

“don’t need your loo-ooove-!!! dum dum duhhhh duhros noya!!!” yoongi stifles a laugh. there’s a reason why you constantly forget lyrics on stage.

which is quite ironic, actually, because half the time you’re forgetting the lyrics to a song you wrote yourself.

afterwards, you play all the hidden gems- and yoongi’s proud to say he’s familiar with quite a few of them.

airplane by j-hope (a youtube star turned successful rapper-vocalist-dancer)

sweet night by v (the internet’s resident eye-candy)

and then you continue to scroll through your laptop, biting your lip and murmuring quietly to yourself. you glance once back at your phone screen.

okay, listen.

yoongi knows that he’s delusional, okay?

but everytime you look straight in the screen it’s almost like you’re looking directly at the camera it’s almost like you’re staring into his soul. which makes zero sense, but it still makes his heart skip a beat.

let him dream, please

“what am i scrolling through?“ you say, reciting a question from the chat. “soundcloud, user chachachae.“

soundcloud?

oh.

that’s pretty cool.

he didn’t know you had a soundcloud account!

you usually post all your covers and random shorts to instagram or another one of your personal blogs.

for a moment, yoongi indulges himself by wondering if you’d ever listened to his music. his soundcloud account is linked in his twitter bio, after all...

but he shakes those thoughts away as fast as they came. he doesn’t need to entertain himself with such silly thoughts.

“ooh, this one’s good!“ you say, clicking onto something.

still with you by JAYKAY (pffftt haihdkahjd) starts playing and you lean back, humming along. yoongi knows this one too!! now he’s 3 for 3!! he and you do share a similar taste in music, so maybe it does make sense.

even though you’re actually main vocalist and lead dancer, you do listen to a lot of rap music. but the music you make is nothing like the old school hip hop tracks that yoongi is partial to.

the music you make- how can he explain it?

sweet like honey with a little bit of tang.

like barbecue honey!!!!

ok that was a bad analogy.

all of his favourite dreamcloud tracks are written by you- cloud nine, up in the sky, are u still here, quicksand- the list goes on and on and on.

it’s like listening to your voice solves anything he goes against. bad day? dreamcloud. something to celebrate? blast your debut song. in need of a party song? easy fix. he gets aux cord rights? (granted, this doesn’t happen very often, since seokjin insists that his music taste is superior to his friends.) but anyways, y/n can fix it.

listening to your voice feels comforting. it invokes something in him that he honestly cannot explain with words. you’re his inspiration. not just in music- but in life. he admires how you’re able to smile through anything, how you take responsibility for your own actions.

he admires your kind heart, which offers generosity and forgiveness to even the most underserving people.

he admires your passion, for music, for your members, for the smallest things. he admires how you’ll love everyone and anyone.

even though he’s never really met you, he feels like he knows you. he wishes he could, anyways. he wants to thank the person who’s gotten him through such bad days.

yoongi curses himself again for being so delusional.

he keeps telling himself that he can’t get so attached. then he’ll end up like one of those creepy fans who are convinced their idols actually like them.

blech.

“okay, next song!“ you exclaim cheerfully. “i really like this one, guys. he’s this soundcloud star. he makes really cool music.“ yoongi readies his pen. if this person really is a soundcloud star, then there’s a high chance yoongi knows of him. a smaller chance that he actually knows the guy personally; either online or from real life.

you press the space bar almost obnoxiously, like you’re about to reveal something grand. you look into the camera, and you lock eyes with yoongi- through that cursed, horrible screen.

the first note plays and yoongi thinks that it sounds... oddly familiar, actually. for a moment, he sighs in disappointment. this one doesn’t sound as great as the previous few songs. almost like it’s incomplete, imperfect. something about it bugs him at the very bottom of his gut.

jimin figures it out before he does.

“AHHHHHHHHH YOONGI!!! OH MY GOD-!!!! YOONGI ARE YOU SEEING THIS? YOONGI!! HYUNG!“ yoongi grumbles, wondering what the hell jimin is screeching about now.

“oh, for fuck’s sake,“ he mumbles. the difference between him and jimin is the way they express their emotions. while yoongi bottles it all up, choosing to deal with things alone and slump around, jimin has no other choice but to scream things out. it’s a wonder they’re such good friends, really. “what is it now?“ yoongi mutters to himself.

“yeah yeah, a gentle breeze- “ and then it hits him. all at once.

“holy fucking shit.“ he whispers to himself, slumping down on the floor. he can barely hear what you say next.

“this song is called people by agust d. he goes by the name suga on social media-!“ yoongi falls down, gasping for air. “i’m a fan,“ you remark casually. “mr. suga producer-nim!! i’m your fan! please continue to make good music!“ you chuckle. “what am i doing right now? he probably isn’t even watching.“ you stare innocently at the phone camera, as if you don’t even know that you’re changing someone’s life right now.

out of his peripheral vision, he can see jimin rushing into the room, crouching next to him and placing a hand on his back, murmuring something yoongi can’t hear through the sound of his sobs.

huh. when did he even start crying?

“he makes rap and really cool hip hop music. you guys should give him a listen. his lyrics are really meaningful, too.“ you nod along, reciting the lyrics word for word- even though you really can’t rap.

“what kind of person am I? am I a good person? or a bad person? many of ways to judge just a person. everyone will live on, everyone will love, everyone will fade away“ you headbang along to the beat.

yoongi slides down the wall inch by inch. he wonders if he’ll faint or vomit first.

other people seem to make fun of people like him- people who find solace in idols, in music. that’s partially why he doesn’t like disclosing the fact that he’s a diehard fan of an idol girl group.

but in hindsight, that’s so stupid. who gives two fucks about his interests? hell, yoongi’s been depressed half his life. and if a group of girls who sing songs and perform make him feel better, what’s so wrong with that?

jimin’s voice is a little clearer now, and so is yours. you’re singing along to the lyrics- the lyrics that he wrote. the lyrics that he spent hours agonising over, wondering whether his shortcomings and anxiety in his life were worth posting on the internet for his measly following to see.

wondering if the music he made had any impact at all, if one day he might see his dream come true, to see his music being played in public. wondering if anyone might hear his songs and think that it helped them get over a bad day. just like you have for him.

yoongi’s sobs wrack through his body, tears flowing freely on his face. he’s crying hard. ugly crying, like a baby throwing a temper tantrum. his cries echo through the room. if he could see himself right now...

well, he doesn’t want to think about it. he’s sure it’s not a pretty view.

jimin looks over him, smiling proudly. his eyes are glassy, and he tucks yoongi’s head in his chest, putting his arms around him and embracing him.

yoongi’s shoulders shake. if it was any other day, he would usher jimin out the room. he hates it when people see him being vulnerable. even his own family hasn’t seen him cry that much.

but right now, he can’t bring himself to do anything but cry. other people may ask why this is such a big deal, why someone emotionally constipated like min yoongi would cry like this for such a small matter.

this, he doesn’t know how to explain either.

all he can think about is how much it means to him. that someone he admires so much is now, in turn, saying his music- no, his life- is good. nothing much else. but just knowing that you’ve listened to his work, that you know of his alter ego’s name...

his crying sounds grow larger.

jimin pets at his hair. “shh,” he murmurs. “it’s okay.” jimin’s voice also grows a little shaky. he tears up, but continues to comfort the crying boy in his arms. “you did it, hyung. it’s okay. you made it. you did it. why are you crying? this is good news! this is so great! i’m proud of you, we’re all so proud of you.”

yoongi tries to speak; it doesn’t go very well. but when he tries again, he manages to choke something out.

“i did it.“ he says, before burying his face back into jimin’s hug. the two boys sit on the ground, crying together. an hour passes, then two.

slowly, yoongi drifts off to bed on the ground, the melody of his own song blended with sound of your voice echoing in his head.

my ordinary became your special, my special became your ordinary. so what? what if you just brush by? what if you get hurt? sometimes you might get hurt again, sometimes you might shed tears. so what? so what if you live like that?

~ people by agust d

tags; @jksbbyfacebunny @extremeobsessions101 @dwcljh @stonyiscanon @bishuthot @s0seo @cecedrake2217

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elsewhereuniversity · 3 years

Text

About Face

“Do you have any questions about your prescriptions today, uh…m-miss?” The pharmacist’s question is laced with assumptions about who you are. It’s not great, of course, but it’s also not worth your time to fight about today.

“No, I’m good,” your smile and voice are sugary-sweet, but your eyes are daggers as you take the bag and turn back towards the door. The heat and humidity are already staggering at 8 am and you are immediately made sticky by the brief walk to your car. As you start it up, there’s a brief chime of email-receiving from your phone, but you ignore it. Then there’s another ding, this time your lab-mate, Valerie, texting you.

Hey, u almost in? In like 30min. had to stop by pharmacy

K. Jill was looking for u. Also ugh that paper for tomorrow, I’m not even a birdsong person lol

Lol get over it, I had to read one of your fancy neuro papers last time. Did jill say what she needed me for?

Whatever lol. She didn’t say.

Ughhhhhhh

Jill, Dr. Dominguez, is your advisor, and you know you need to get her some figures and sections of your thesis soon, but these damn stats…well. There’s a reason you prefer spending your time traipsing off-trail through the wilderness over sitting in front of a computer all day. Not that this part isn’t interesting and important too, but come on.

Traffic is moving at a sluggish pace, of course, so you’re lost in contemplation and dread of the analyses you need to attempt running today, and the inevitable conversation with Dr. Dominguez that will have to happen at some point. As the traffic finally begins to move, you grit your teeth. Maybe it’s time to consider actually asking for help. I have no fucking clue how to do multivariate shit…You stare ahead as you inch forward, before a frustrating, jolting stop at a red light. Your eye is drawn to a kid crossing the road, wearing a grey hoodie. They look forlorn, for some reason you can’t entirely enumerate, and you glance back at them as the light finally turns.

The sun isn’t very high yet, so there are still some odd shadows stretching across the sidewalk, but you could’ve sworn that the kid had no face.

****

You manage to put the pharmacist and your grandma and the obviously-just-a-trick-of-the-light-I-mean-how-else-could-that-be faceless kid out of your mind for the rest of the morning and actually get some results you can work with from the analyses you’d been worried about. And when Dr. Dominguez pops into lab to talk to you, she is actually impressed at both the pace and quality of work you’ve delivered thus far. In fact, you’re feeling pretty damn good about everything, despite the earlier unpleasantness, so you decide to grab some lunch and hang out with some of the other grad students and lab techs.

Lunch-special sushi in hand, you plop yourself down at one of the rundown old tables in the work room. Valerie is there, along with Raul, one of the grad students from a micro lab down the hall, and Jackson, one of the general lab techs. Everyone says hi, but you’re only vaguely following the conversation as you dig into your spicy tuna roll. Something something TA stipends being cut. Which is such bullshit, of course, but nothing new. You’re just about to jump into the discussion when you get a Facebook notification. It’s your cousin, who tagged you in a post. You stare for a good five seconds at your phone.

Just remembering the good times with my cousin before he decided to be a transsexual.

And then a picture from when you were 14, a picture you’d thought you’d deleted from every conceivable online location. A picture that highlights pretty much every single aspect of your body that made staying in the closet completely untenable. Everything just always happens at once, huh.

“Fucking asshole,” you mutter, and are surprised to feel the hot prick of tears in your eyes.

“Becca, you alright?” Valerie asks, and you belatedly realize that everyone at the table heard you and is now staring. They think you were talking about one of them, or responding to something they said.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Just something my cousin posted. She’s—she can be such a jerk. Don’t worry about it,” you say as you hastily wipe away the tears.

“What’d she do?” Jackson asks. Valerie glares at him so fiercely that he rolls his eyes and holds up his hands, “Just, like, if you wanna talk about it.”

You sigh. You’re not precisely going stealth, but you also don’t just talk to everyone about being trans. Have you actually come out to Jackson? Valerie knows, and Raul, but you don’t think you’ve ever directly talked to Jackson about it.

“It’s—it’s fine. Just, she posted a picture of me from before I came out, and I really hate thinking about any of it.” You speak with a bit more force than you intend.

“Why is that a big deal?” Jackson asks, taking a bite of his pasta. Valerie glares at him again and Raul just shakes his head.

“It’s just…it took me a long time to figure it out, and I don’t particularly like being reminded of that. And it’s not great for dysphoria, either.” You say this distractedly as you go to the post and untag yourself.

“That’s really rough,” Raul says, frowning.

“Sorry, what’s that word?” Jackson asks with a raised eyebrow, “I guess I just don’t get it? It’s just a kid picture of you, what’s it matter?”

And that does it. You stand abruptly, “I need to get back to the lab.” You hear Valerie and Raul berating Jackson as you walk away, but you’re just so very done. You toss the empty sushi container in the trash at the corner of the hallway, near one of the windows overlooking the main walkway through campus. And you nearly trip over your own feet as you swivel to double check something down below. A gray hoodie. A child with no face looking over their shoulder as they turn a corner.

****

You don’t mean to take the wrong street. It’s already been far too long a day between all of the inanity with your extended family and Jackson. And everything you tried to run after lunch was a bust, making you feel like Dr. Dominguez’s praise earlier was completely undeserved. Given all of that, you decided to get takeout again, even though you really should be cooking, so you’re walking to pick up your order. It is early evening, the shadows having elongated to embrace nearly everything, and while debating whether it’s even worth confronting your cousin about the jab, your feet simply take you the wrong way. You don’t even notice, until you’re standing in front of an empty park that’s three blocks over from where you should be. Or, wait.

Not empty. One lone figure, sitting quietly on one of the swings, wreathed in shadow.

You’ve been walking quite quickly, but over the course of a few steps have come almost to a stop. With a shiver, you glance around the area, but no parents or adults are in sight, and the figure looks young, even from a distance. 12, maybe? Maybe the kid lives in one of the nearby houses? Probably. Should you call someone? Who? Not the cops. They’d just as soon arrest or hurt the kid as help them. It isn’t that late, leaving the kid be is probably the most prudent course of action.

But. The kid feels…familiar. Even from a hundred meters, you can see that their shoulders are hunched, their hands are tight on the chains of the swing. The gentle creaking as those chains move with the slight shifts of the kid’s body is despondent in a way that is known to you, somehow. So, against your better judgement, you leave the sidewalk and walk across the damp grass to the edge of the playground. When you step onto the sand, the kid’s head jerks up and their shoulders tense further, raising almost to their ears. You stop walking and from the new angle a streetlight throws the kid’s grey hoodie into stark relief.

“Are-are you okay?” you have to clear your throat to get the words out and your voice sounds weak and tinny in the still, silent park.

The shoulders shrug. The kid is also wearing jean cutoffs, their scuffed sneakers unlaced.

“Do you need me to call someone?”

A sharp shake of the head, and then their hands release the chains and fall into their lap.

“Don’t need anything,” the kid’s voice is low, you can barely hear what they’re saying. Gingerly, you take the last few steps to the swing set and awkwardly settle into one of the worn rubber seats. Only after you have already done this do you think to question why you are so compelled to talk to this child who—maybe? how?—has been dogging you all day.

“I said I don’t need anything,” the kid says in an emotionless voice. Their face is still completely shadowed by their hood and shaggy hair.

“I just—look, kid, I think I’ve been where you are, and—”

The kid cuts across you, “I tried to tell them today. But I…couldn’t, I didn’t know how to, so I just ended up saying I like girly shoes and wanted some or whatever.”

Oh. So you were right. You know exactly what’s going on. In fact, you’re pretty sure you had that precise conversation, once.

“That’s tough,” you acknowledge, slowly pushing back in the swing, which creaks beneath you, “It took me a long time too.”

There’s silence. Then:

“That’s what I was worried about.”

You start and quickly glance over at the kid, who has finally turned to face you.

She doesn’t have a face, which, you suppose, really shouldn’t be a surprise. You weren’t seeing things, earlier. There’s just a smooth expanse of dark olive skin. The featureless head tilts to one side and she speaks again.

“I thought you might recognize me.” The voice is plaintive. With every word, you feel a sense of vertigo, like there is a mouth, somewhere, that is making those sounds, that it’s right in front of you, but you cannot perceive it.

You are breathing very rapidly, “I thought—how do you know me? What’s, I mean—”

“This?” the kid gestures at her face, “I don’t know, I can see but I can’t see myself, I dunno what’s going on. All I know is I was walking to the park and then I was here, or I mean, on the road this morning and saw you and I followed you and I just want to go home or just sleep or just melt away but I can’t, okay? There’s just nothing.”

Without noticing, you have sprung to your feet and are backing away from the faceless girl, the faceless girl who can’t tell her parents who she is. Who you are.

“I didn’t want to think about it,” you whisper. Why are you even responding to this? This is a hallucination, or a dream. You’re just reacting to the whole bullshit situation with your cousin and Jackson and that fucking pharmacy tech. Did you fall asleep back in the lab, is that it? You pinch yourself, but no luck, “I came out and that was what I needed. Okay? Why dwell on, on, on all of that shi—stuff that happened before?”

The girl is still sitting placidly in the swing, though her hands are once again clenched around the chains.

“I knew you were me, I guess. So I followed. I don’t think anyone else notices me either, not that that’s anything new,” The note of bitterness in her voice cuts you to the bone, “I thought maybe you—me, future me, whatever—would be able to…fix me? But nothing’s changed, has it?”

You’re backed up to the slide now, “Why are you doing this? What even are you?”

You slump against the side of slide, your knees suddenly weak, “This cannot—this is bullshit, I don’t know how you’re doing this, but—”

The faceless girl is in front of you now, hands jammed into the front pocket of her hoodie. She stands there, contemplating her future self, “I just want to understand,”

The kid, proto-Becca, or whatever or whoever she is, sure sounds like a kid desperately trying to make sense of something, and not some ghoulish nightmare creature.

“Just stop,” you say in a hoarse voice, “I just don’t want to think about it, I shouldn’t have to think about it, I just want to move forward.”

“Yeah,” proto-Becca abruptly falls to her knees, and draws them up to her chest. It takes a few seconds for you to understand the sounds that the kid is making are sobs.

You hug your own knees and contemplate getting up and running away and just forgetting about all of it: this faceless phantom of your childhood self, your relatives’ inability to accept your reality, the absurd, useless, pointless stats and analyses. You’re crying too, desperately trying to refocus on the here and now, instead of being drawn down into the rabbit hole of loneliness and regret and fear that always consumes you when you think too hard about those years in which it felt like your whole body was turning against you and you couldn’t find any satisfactory explanations for what you were feeling.

But the sounds of proto-Becca, of proto-you, sobbing into her knobbly knees bring you back to the present. Ironic, that. No matter what else, however she got here, whatever happened to her face, she’s a kid. She’s a kid. She’s. A. Kid. You were a kid.

You furiously wipe your eyes and nose and sit up, scooting a bit closer to proto-Becca.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” you say in as steady a voice as you can manage, “I was scared, and, and, and I lashed out. It’s not your fault, kid.”

She doesn’t lift her head, but the sobs are quieter.

“I mean, kid, no offense, but you don’t have a face. And somehow you’re me, right?” Okay, that came out meaner than you meant it to, “The truth is that I’ve done my best to forget pretty much everything that happened back when I was…you, I guess. But I can’t.”

She sniffles, “I’m trying to tell them, I am. But the boys at school, every time I try to talk to Mom or Dad I see those boys laughing and yelling and coming at me and I can’t, I don’t—know how I ended up here, or what to do about this or anything. I just want things to be normal.”

And, finally, you get it. Not why she’s here, or how, or what any of this means, but, at least, what to do. You’ve tried to help kids who were like you before. You’d never have told them that they needed to keep their feelings concealed, that they needed to not do anything so as to avoid reminding you of your own past. So why, then, are you doing it to yourself?

“Is it okay if I come sit next to you, maybe give you a hug?” you ask, as gently as you can.

You get a glimpse of the faceless face from behind the curtain of hair, “I—I think so?”

You get to your feet, a task far more laborious than you feel it should be, and cross to her. When you plop down by her side, she twitches, but it’s toward you. Slowly and carefully, you wrap an arm around her narrow shoulders, and hold her close. She’s still crying, and the hood has slipped from her dark curls.

“It’s okay that it’s taking time,” you say, “It’s really, really hard. I meant that. There’s…nothing out there. No one to explain to you, to, uh, us, what these feelings mean, really. I remember. I remember how much it feels like you’re just stuck in the same looped computer program. Endlessly completing the same actions with no idea why, only feeling like something isn’t right. And so scared of what happens if you do anything that breaks that loop.”

“That’s pretty much it,” she says with a note of wait, that wasn’t completely in my head???, “I don’t see how I can explain to anyone, especially Mom and Dad.”

“I think all you can do is be honest. There are some resources out there, although maybe they aren’t published yet,” you glance sideways at her, “But if you just…elucidate those feelings you’ve been sitting on, it at least opens the door to them comprehending.”

“I guess so,” she sighs, and then giggles, “But also, like, no offense, that was, like, a really freakin’ pretentious way to say that.”

You snort and ruffle her hair, “Whatever. Something for you to look forward to, then.”

She’s quiet for a bit and then, quick like a bird, she wraps her arms around you too, “So I’m gonna tell them, then?”

You shrug, “When you’re ready. Whenever that is. And I promise, you are no lesser if it takes a while. Okay?”

“But you’re still going to hate thinking about me, right? I mean, about how long it took me, you, to finally do it?” her head tilts.

You sigh, “I don’t know. It’s hard, I won’t pretend it isn’t. But I think I can at least say that it’s okay. That it’s not my, or your, fault.”

When you look up, her face appears. Smile first. Broad and full of braces, her quick and nervous brown eyes darting to your face and then back to her knees.

“You’ll be fine,” you say, giving her one last squeeze, “I’m the living proof, right?”

Her laugh lingers in the air as she fades away.

#transroadwarrior #stories #long post #about face #body horror #of the faceless variety #trans #transphobia #briefly #becca #proto becca #submission

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i-like-plan-m · 3 years

Note

Could you do a modern au with famous parents Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji and baby a-yuan being adorable and being loved by their fans?

this was fun, thank you! [Posted to Ao3]

The video was short and packed with Wei Ying’s rapid-fire chatter, a response to his recent fan-selected award after a landslide of votes had catapulted him to the top of a long list of very accomplished actors. He’d spent the last hour trading off between screaming into a pillow and wandering around in dazed disbelief until Wen Qing, acting in her capacity as his agent, had bullied him into making a quick thank you video.

Wei Ying kept it quick and crammed as much of his gratitude and excitement into it as he could, though he was careful to keep the screen confined to the office space Lan Zhan had designed for him. It was a live video, since that seemed to be what fans preferred these days, so he angled the camera carefully away from anything incriminating.

And by incriminating he meant “any sign that Wei Ying had a life outside of acting.”

The door was closed, and the room held no identifying pictures or objects. Wei Ying had come to treasure his privacy, and was fierce about protecting the details of his personal life out of the hands of his thousands of fans. Enough that no one outside of their families even knew they were friends, much less married with a son.

Lan Zhan, of course, hated the riot of noise and flashing lights that accompanied Wei Ying anywhere in public. As one of the foremost violinists in this hemisphere, he had his own level of fame, but his fans were less likely to screech like a banshee upon seeing him. And they had A-Yuan to protect now, and keeping him out of the spotlight was the safest way to do so.

His oversight was not locking the door. A rookie parenting mistake.

A-Yuan burst through the door like the Kool-Aid Man about ten seconds into Wei Ying’s final thank you speech, his damp hair sticking up in downy tufts and his little body swamped by one of Wei Ying’s softest threadbare t-shirts.

“Baba!” He shouted at the top of his tiny but incredibly powerful lungs. “There’s a bird in the house!”

Wei Ying watched the dismay cross his face in real time on the phone screen, followed by alarm when his son’s words finally registered. “There’s a what in the house?” He asked as he whipped his head around, the live stream momentarily forgotten.

“A bird!” A-Yuan said excitedly, hopping over to him when the shirt got tangled around his feet. Wei Ying scooped him up before he tumbled face-first to the floor. His son gripped his shirt and leaned in until their noses were nearly touching, eyes wide and bright over the commotion. “Can we keep it?”

There was an angry shriek from the kitchen that suggested the bird would not appreciate such an invitation.

“Where is your dad?” Wei Ying asked instead of answering, phone shoved hastily into his pocket when a crash sounded in the house.

“He’s hiding Popcorn and Jelly Bean,” A-Yuan reported. Wei Ying’s smile was fond; of course Lan Zhan would stash the bunnies safely away. “He told me to wait for him, but I didn’t want you to be scared! It’s okay to be scared, though,” he said earnestly, his little face solemn and so reminiscent of Lan Zhan that Wei Ying had to stop and shower kisses all over his face.

“When’d you get to be so smart, huh?” Wei Ying asked when A-Yuan was breathless with laughter and squirming so much he nearly dropped him.

“Baba,” he complained, flopping over his shoulder with a huff. “That’s what you said.”

“Ha! Of course you’re smart, then, if you’re learning from me!”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan’s low voice had him turning and tightening his grip on A-Yuan when he wriggled happily at the sight of his other father.

“I hear we have an intruder,” Wei Ying said, grinning widely at his husband.

Exasperation crossed Lan Zhan’s face. “It flew in by mistake,” he said, but then he glanced at A-Yuan with a wry smile.

“By mistake, huh?” Wei Ying bounced his son in his arms, grinning when A-Yuan giggled and fisted his hands in his shirt to cling to for balance. “And what, pray tell, were you doing when this bird wandered into our home?”

A-Yuan blinked big, dark eyes at him with utter innocence. “Playing!”

“Mhm. And what were you playing?” Wei Ying leaned cautiously around the corner to peer into the kitchen, wincing when the unfortunately large bird spotted him and screeched furiously.

“Um.” A-Yuan thought for a moment. “The bunnies wanted to see outside.”

“Did they?” Wei Ying asked, trading a glance with Lan Zhan, who then scowled at the bird now stabbing its beak angrily at the plants on top of the cabinets.

A-Yuan nodded seriously. “Yes, they told me.”

“So you took the bunnies onto the balcony?” Wei Ying prompted.

“They aren’t allowed outside unless someone is with them,” A-Yuan repeated, which, okay, at least he remembered some of the rules. They’d have to work on ensuring he understood the rules were for him, not their fuzzy little pets. “I carried Jellybean outside so she could see the clouds! One looked like a dinosaur, baba. She wanted to see.”

“Oh, well, in that case.” He had a good idea of what had happened here. The ‘not going outside without someone to watch you’ rule had somehow been transferred into ‘you can go outside alone as long as you’re watching the bunnies,’ because that was the logic of a four year old.

“And then the bird?” Lan Zhan asked, clearly also aware of the chain of events that had led to them cowering in the hallway as a baffled and irate bird rushed around their kitchen in a destructive-sounding temper tantrum.

A-Yuan cuddled closer to Wei Ying as though sensing an impending punishment. Wei Ying rolled his eyes; Lan Zhan would fold in a heartbeat under that big-eyed stare, and it would be left to Wei Ying to remind them both why humans under three feet tall weren’t allowed on the balcony alone.

“The bird wanted to play with Jellybean,” A-Yuan said. Wei Ying’s jaw dropped.

“The bird wanted to play with Jellybean,” Lan Zhan repeated slowly.

“Yes! It flew down super fast! And it landed right beside me! Then we went inside, because Popcorn was all alone, and the bird came inside to see him too!”

“Okay,” Wei Ying said in a strangled voice, and it took a heroic effort to keep the laughter at bay. “A-Yuan, why don’t you go check on the bunnies, okay? We’re going to go help the bird get back home.”

A-Yuan craned his neck around to peer into the kitchen. “It sounds pretty mad,” he said doubtfully.

“We will talk to it,” Lan Zhan assured him, and they waited until A-Yuan had scampered out of sight to stare at each other with wide eyes.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

Lan Zhan pinched the bridge of his nose. “The bunnies were almost eaten.”

“Our son was almost traumatized for life,” Wei Ying said, choking on a laugh. “Lan Zhan, he almost witnessed a double homicide on our own balcony.” He wheezed with laughter, clutching his ribs.

“We will install higher locks,” Lan Zhan said grimly.

“Either that or buy a baby backpack leash,” Wei Ying agreed, and grinned widely at Lan Zhan’s sigh. “I’m just saying, the kid is going to keep on growing. He’s too smart for his own good, too.”

“What do we do about the bird?” Lan Zhan asked, absently stroking a hand along Wei Ying’s spine when he leaned against his side.

“Hell if I know. Maybe Wen Ning will know what to do. He knows things like this, right?”

“He is a vet,” Lan Zhan said dryly. “I should hope so.”

“I’ll call him,” Wei Ying decided. “We should probably feed him while he’s over here. As payment, you know. Not many friends would come wrestle with a wild bird on a Friday night for us.”

“I think the bird would object if I tried to cook,” Lan Zhan said, surly. He made a sound of distress. “Wei Ying, it’s in the pantry.”

“It’s deciding what it wants for dinner, Lan Zhan. Better pay attention or it’ll go for the bunnies again!” Lan Zhan looked at him, appalled, and he couldn’t bite back the tide of laughter.

“Ridiculous,” Lan Zhan muttered.

“You married me,” Wei Ying pointed out. “No take backs.”

Lan Zhan softened like he did every time Wei Ying brought up their marriage. Pressed a kiss to his forehead and agreed, “No take backs.”

And then a moment later— “But leave the bunnies out of this.”

His Lan Zhan was so soft hearted, Wei Ying thought, so full of love he could burst.

“Yeah, yeah, I know where I rank,” Wei Ying said, entirely teasing. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, still grinning up at Lan Zhan as his husband gave an exasperated sigh.

The grin fell right off his face at the sight of his phone screen, which was open. And recording. And so full with rapid-fire comments that the actual video screen was barely visible.

“Oh no,” he said. “Oh no. Lan Zhan.”

“What’s wrong?” Lan Zhan asked, glancing worriedly at him and then down to the screen when Wei Ying couldn’t tear his eyes away from it.

Wei Ying looked up slowly, so guilty he felt sick with it. “It’s been recording this whole time,” he whispered.

He must have looked really bad, because Lan Zhan ignored the phone entirely and pulled him close, holding one of Wei Ying’s palms flat against his chest and breathing slowly and deliberately until he matched his own breathing to Lan Zhan’s. The familiar routine soothed the edges of anxiety that were rapidly blooming into a panic attack, and he swallowed hard and dropped his forehead against Lan Zhan’s shoulder until he could think straight.

“I’m—“

“No apologies,” Lan Zhan reminded him in a murmur so low against his ear that the phone couldn’t have picked it up. “It was an accident. We knew this wouldn’t last forever, and I’m not ashamed of you or A-Yuan. It’s okay Wei Ying.”

“But I fucked up,” Wei Ying mumbled into his neck, clinging like A-Yuan after a bad dream.

“You had an intruder to welcome,” Lan Zhan said, amused. Wei Ying risked a glance up and found that Lan Zhan was smiling, not even a hint of worry on his face.

“Might as well run with it, I guess,” he said with a hesitant smile.

Lan Zhan pressed a kiss to his hair. “Might as well.”

Wei Ying smiled for real now, bright and unrestrained as he lifted the camera away from the floor. “Uh. Hi, everyone! Wow, there are a lot of you. Lan Zhan, this is like, triple the people who were watching it at the beginning. I think I’m offended.”

“Wei Ying.”

“Right, right. So… surprise!” He laughed at a few of the comments, and then they winced in tandem at the loud bang and squawk from the kitchen. “There’s another surprise for all of us tonight, it seems. Look who showed up and just let herself right in!” He flipped the camera around just in time to catch the bird’s beady eyes glaring at them from atop the fridge.

“Can you believe this?” Wei Ying slipped into his usual stream-of-consciousness chatter, free hand tucked into Lan Zhan’s as the pitter patter of little feet trotted down the hall towards them, announcing A-Yuan’s return.

He segued into talking about his husband and son, hesitant at first from years of absolute silence on the topic. Half an hour, a miraculously unscathed Wen Ning and a freed bird later, Wei Ying ended the video and set his phone aside, feeling a little wrung out from the evening’s events.

His phone buzzed. “Jiang Cheng wants to know why we’re trending on twitter. Ha! Get a bird stuck in your house and maybe you’ll become a twitter sensation, A-Cheng!”

He glanced over at A-Yuan, who had his face pressed to the glass door to the balcony in a futile search for the bird. “Time for that talk?” He asked, nudging Lan Zhan with a pointed nod.

Lan Zhan looked shifty. “The bunnies weren’t actually hurt.”

“So… a lecture about the dangers of balconies, but not about the bunny jailbreak and near-execution?”

“That seems fair.”

Fair. Yeah, right. Lan Zhan just couldn’t handle a few distraught tears from their child who absolutely realized this weakness and happily exploited it. “You realize we’re a couple of suckers, right?”

Lan Zhan shrugged. “I’m okay with it.”

Yeah, Wei Ying thought, giving in with a sigh. So was he.

#prompts #asks #the untamed #mdzs #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #a yuan #wen yuan #lan sizhui #parents lan wangji and wei wuxian #wen ning #celebrity au #modern au #modern universe #2020cumdump

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ff15trashgoldenslumbers · 3 years

Text

Felix Natalis

...so a little self indulgence because today is my birthday and I allow myself to be selfish on my birthday…

~~~~~

You weren’t upset…

Okay maybe you were…

No, you were beyond upset, you were livid! Pissed! Some would even say down right nettled!

Today was your birthday, the day that you blessed this world with your arrival and the only people who even seemed to care were the subscription services you had set up and your dentist office.

No text messages, no phone calls, not even a social media post!

You kind of expected it, there were so many things overshadowing your big day. Now you couldn’t exactly blame some of the others, there were a lot of new released hitting so many networks today, not to mention that there was a huge ball this weekend, but your four boyfriends! How dare! Not even a letter!

You kind of couldn’t blame Noctis, the poor prince had been known to go out wearing mismatching shoes, quite frequently, unless Ignis noticed before they left the house. Gladiolus was checking everything over for the huge ball. While Ignis you expected to have a reminder, or something, but he more than likely had his hands full making sure that Noctis and Prompto weren’t going to cause a major scandal. Speaking of Prompto, he should have recalled, he was always the first to remember, and find the most obnoxious balloon possible to bring in the apartment.

But nothing! Absolutely nothing!

You huffed as you laid on the couch, it was your birthday, so you were going to pout all you wanted! Maybe...maybe you’d get yourself a cake and hog it all to yourself. A grown woman could eat an entire cake by herself, and not even Bahamut could stop you!

You went to get ready to go get your pity cake, but as you pulled your phone off the charger you noticed that you had missed a message. From Ignis! You quickly opened the message, only to be find your anger somehow doubled.

Please bring Noctis a tie, he seemed to have left it at home on the bed. I’ll send a car to grab you.

You’d bring Noctis his tie all right! But you couldn’t be held responsible for anything that might happen to it on the way! You marched into the bedroom, finding the stupid tie laying directly on the bed where the Prince had left it. Snatching the tie up you, marched downstairs, the tie clenched tightly in you fist, not caring if it wrinkled! Serves them all right!

The entire car ride to the Citadel you pouted, tempted to just chuck the tie out the window, and tell the driver to take you to the nearest bakery! You were going to down an entire wedding cake at this point!

Leaving the car, you begin the familiar walk up the stairs, on your way to Ignis’s office only to be immediately intercepted by the familiar ladies’ in waiting who assisted you when there are formal events.

“Excuse me, Ms. Y/N, there’s an important visitor today. We were just made aware, please…” One replied, ushering you to the changing room.

“Wait, no I’m only here to drop this off.” You tried to counter holding up the reason you even set foot in the palace today. Only to find the tie that you were just moments ago thinking of lighting on fire was taken from your hand.

“We shall take care of that.”

“Please, we must hurry.”

Every argument or retort that you tried to come up with was immediately countered, as you were whisked away to get dolled up for this mysterious guest, who decided they were suddenly taking over your day. You honestly wondered if these ladies should possibly take over for the King’s Guard with how efficient.

You found it strange that you weren’t high strung dolled up, there were not bobby pins, or gallons of hairspray. The dress was huge, but not the normal red carpet, where you’re to stand there and look pretty type of dress that you typically wore for these things. If anything, you were the most comfortable you have ever been all dolled up.

“Hurry.” One of the ladies called taking your hand, seeing that you were much more relaxed with them, as they have seen you close to naked on a frequent basis.

Still you were so confused when you were lead to a ballroom, wouldn’t it have made more sense to have be received in a throne room? You went to ask, only to find all the ladies had disappeared rather quickly. You turned back to the large door, straining to hear something on the other side, but was only met with silence.

The door cracked open just a the tiniest bit, then enough for you to walk through, but all you were met with was darkness. You knew from memory that you were standing at the top of a staircase high above a beautiful ballroom, but you were surprised that it could get this dark in the middle of the afternoon.

“What the…” You muttered.

Only for all the lights to flash on, streams, glitter and pop cannons went off before you, as you flinched, immediately moving to a defensive position, summoning a flash of fire before you heard the cry of:

“SURPRISE!”

Once the shock wore off you found almost everyone you knew standing around dressed rather fancy but still quite relaxed. A large tiered cake sitting in the middle of a huge buffet with quite a few of your favorite foods! The entire room was decorated for a large party for you.

You stepped forward, having broken your defensive stance whisking the fire away, “Oh my…” You saw Prompto, in a three piece suit towards the bottom of the stairs rapid firing clicking away, he more than likely got a pretty nice picture of you ready to set this place on fire, next to him were Gladiolus and Ignis dressed similarly, but where was Noctis?

You found a hand before you, only to turn and find Noctis, standing there hand offered a blush on his face.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.” He managed to squeak out as you took his hand allowing him to lead you down the stairs.

Once you got to your other boyfriends, you couldn’t help the smile, you should have known they wouldn’t have forgotten your birthday. It wasn’t in their nature! But still they had you going.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.” Ignis smiled, as he placed a small tiara in your hair, an on going tradition at this point for you.

“We make you worry birthday lady?” Gladiolus chuckled, handing you a bouquet of flowers.

You gave a playful pout, only to notice the large Chocobo balloons behind the cake, Prompto’s work for sure as you laughed giving a nod.

“We wanted to throw you a huge surprise party.” Prompto replied, finally lowering the camera.

You giggled, “Well I’m surprised! Thank you.”

The next few hours were filled with quite a lot of laughs, and music and cake. You tried to convince Ignis that you could eat at least two tiers by yourself, but he had stated that he didn’t want to be the one in charge of dealing with the aftermath.

By the time that you were all crowded in the car to return home for the night, you found yourself and Prompto covered in glitter. No one was sure of where it came from as Ignis was adamant about there not being any. Noctis somehow managed to get icing under his vest on his dress shirt, Gladiolus suit jacket was missing and Ignis looked perfect as always. You were in the middle of the backseat engulfing poor Prompto and Noctis as they were small enough to allow everyone to sit comfortably enough.

“I’m surprised that you guys managed to keep it a secret. Did you have stuff delivered directly to the palace?” You inquired on the way home for the evening.

“Yes, most were delivered this morning.” Ignis stated, before cutting a playful glare to Prompto in the rearview mirror. “We also made certain that no one else made mention of it.”

“Iggy took my phone.” Prompto pouted playfully, “I wanted to show you all the balloons I had to pick from.”

“Oh, Iggy…” You called, “Where’s the tie I brought.”

“In all honesty I was surprised when I saw, I figured that you would have lit it on fire or thrown it out the car window.”

“I thought about it…” You muttered playfully, getting a laugh.

“You almost lit everyone on fire.” Noctis stated, as you an embarrassed gasped.

“You saw that?”

“Got pictures.” Prompto added, showing you the picture of you crouched ready to fight, Noctis standing slightly behind you looking absolutely terrified. “Good thing Iggy, thought to have everyone below you.”

“How embarrassing would that have been. Crazy lady sets the ballroom on fire on her birthday.” You laughed.

“Well crazy lady,” Gladiolus called turning around to you, “You’ve got one minute left for your birthday, did you have a good one?”

You didn’t even have to think about it.

“The best!”

#Tis my birth #1/15 #I was brought to this earth #to write mediocre stories and eat pineapple and snickerdoodles #I'm kinda out of practice but #I wanted to be selfish today #and no one would stop me #except me #ffxv drabble #ffxv fanfiction #final fantasy xv fanfiction #fanfic #noctis x reader #prompto x reader #gladiolus x reader #ignis x reader #chocobros #final fantasy drabbles

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haloud · 3 years

Text

things we could burn in one go (eminence) - chapter 6

also on ao3

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Isabel Evans & Max Evans & Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Forrest Long/Alex Manes Additional Tags: post-s2, Canon Compliant, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, starts forlex ends malex, other characters may appear - Freeform, tags subject to update

Chapter Summary: Alex comes home to find his world turned upside down; Max and Isobel struggle to save Michael’s life.

Excerpt:

How close did they come to that chest being stilled forever? The answer was clear, splashed rust-red across Michael’s clothes, and Alex couldn’t stand it, couldn’t reconcile it, couldn’t balance the equation made by Michael this morning and Michael here, now, this.

Alex stood sharp, with a purpose, stood over Michael whose eyes moved rapid behind his lids, Michael who flushed with life but hadn’t lived since being healed, Michael who could so easily be an illusion of hope, snatched away in a second, snuffed out. Jerkily, Alex shot out a hand, then yanked it back, checked over his shoulder for Max or Isobel or—anyone—like a kid with a hand in the cookie jar. A touch so innocuous, necessary, even; Michael shouldn’t be forced to rest with dirty clothes; but. Was he allowed? Was the universe watching?

His hands were heavy; purpose and gravity worked on them, yet with a weightless almost-faith they remembered the hill and valley of Michael’s chest, the texture and temperature of his skin, the cartography, topography of loving him and being loved.

Rain pounded the windshield, and pain pounded Alex’s head, from the back of his neck to behind his eyes. He huffed out short relief when he finally turned down his quiet street and settled back against his seat, no longer needing to squint through the panicked flutter of the windshield wipers at the too-bright lights of other cars as he coasted into his driveway. Parked, he rolled his shoulders back and stretched, heavy eyelids opening and shutting, brain ticking over slowly as it tried to marshal signals to his body to get him out of the car and to the door.

Exhaustion didn’t cover the way everything wore on him. Work, other people, the Project hanging over him like Damocles—how much longer could he hold Fields off without an answer before she took drastic action or moved on, maybe even called Flint in? He had a calendar in the drawer by his bed counting down the days to the end of his contract, hidden away so he didn’t have to explain himself when Forrest stayed over. Not that he relished everything about a return to civilian life, a life he’d never lived as an adult…

Even his loved ones wore on him sometimes. Guilt was another chain around his shoulders, from the way he’d ghosted Kyle for weeks, to shooting down offers from Maria to hang out, to letting his morning call with Liz this week slip from a real conversation to a perfunctory text confirmation that Arturo and Rosa were fine. On top of that, he still hadn’t texted Forrest since he landed, and now Alex was avoiding his phone, the tension of expectation he imagined on the other side of the line too much to bear.

And then there was Michael. Brilliant, stubborn Michael, who reminded him without meaning to how wide a gulf he still had to cross to regain his trust, the trust that Alex would always protect him, no matter what.

But—one day at a time. Hour by hour if he had to. Old advice from the counselor he saw after his injury, but no matter how high the papers piled up in his mental inbox (call your therapist), he hadn’t been able to get himself to book a new appointment with a new one, so he’d do what he could, and fall back on the somewhat insufficient tools he had in his outdated toolbox.

And one day at a time meant getting out of his car, carrying his groceries through the rain, and getting in the front door. Okay.

As he turned to leave the car, something moved in his peripheral vision, and he whipped his head around to chase it. Squinting through sheets of rain and twilight-gray haze, he could just make out a dark shape huddled beneath the overhang, but whether it was human, animal, or object, it was impossible to tell. Through the thundering static downpour, Buffy howled behind the door.

Moving slowly, he retrieved his combat knife from the glove box and cracked the door open. The rain rushed up from a rattle to a roar, loud enough to cover the scrape of his boots against concrete and brick as he crept toward the porch. He was soaked cold within moments, blinking water out of his eyes, still and smooth as a cat after decades of conditioning, every muscle locked to avoid tremor. The closer he got, the louder Buffy grew, barking and slamming herself against the door. A few feet closer, and the shape took form—human, definitely human, adult male by size, but whoever it was, they were slumped beside the door, not crouched, not lying in wait, so Alex lowered his knife.

Still creeping closer, he spoke up, “Hey! Do you need help—”

But before he could get out a single word more, the person lifted their head, and—

“Michael?”

Alex bounded forward the last few feet, dropping his knife with a splash, flinging himself to one knee beside Michael’s huddled form, grasping at his sopping clothes, seeking injury, something, anything.

“Michael, what’s wrong? What—”

He tipped his face up and his head lolled back; his breath rattled in his chest. The only color between his ashen face and rain-black hair was an ugly streak of red from the corner of his mouth across his cheek and chin, and a gust of wind blew the storm against them, washing his blood pink, and then it was gone.

“Michael!” Alex repeated, more urgently, frantically. How did this happen? Who could have done this? Alex’s mind shot straight to his own earlier question—how long would Fields let him go without answering. Was this his answer? Tripp’s dog tags hung leaden around his neck. He could choke on them, on the cold tin symbol of his own inaction, even now.

“Max is already on his way,” Michael said, voice breathy and labored, then laughed, a bizarre and throaty caricature of his normal laugh, and his elbow bent robotically to let him tap his temple. “Called him.”

“Why didn’t you go straight to him so he could heal you? Michael? Michael!”

But he was gone; his eyes rolled back to whites, and he slumped strings-cut so Alex almost dove to catch him in his arms; his hand fell from his head to the brick patio and struck the ground with the force of gravity, skinning his knuckles.

It took seconds for Alex to process his shock—seconds Michael might not have to waste, but nonetheless--the rain had his hands slipping on his skin, so Alex held on tighter, clutching Michael’s head to his chest, curling his body around him on the most animal instinct to shield, shelter, protect.

Despite the cold downpour, Michael’s skin was feverish, his breathing bad and worsening, his pulse fast and weak. Bracing his weight on his good leg, Alex pulled Michael over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and stood and unlocked the door.

Buffy’s barking stopped as it swung open; she scrambled around Alex’s feet, pawing at his legs, herding him inside, sniffing at Michael’s fingertips that dangled inches from the ground. Panting, Alex hauled him to the couch and set him down.

Inside, out of the rain, Michael somehow looked worse. His entire front was soaked with blood along with rain; he stank of it, all copper and salt, and bile rose in Alex’s throat. He held his breath and grabbed a towel.

“Gonna ruin your stuff,” Michael rasped. “Gonna ruin…”

Milliseconds before pressing call to figure out how far away Max was, Alex dropped his phone from numb fingers as Michael—there was no word for it, for a second, a heartbeat, Alex lost all faith in his own eyes—as Michael blurred and disappeared and blurred and reappeared a few feet away, whining like a shot doe.

“What the f—Michael!”

“Alex!” Max’s voice bellowed. A fist pounded on the door, shaking the entire frame.

“It’s open!” Alex called back, dropping to the ground beside Michael again and lifting his head into his lap. “Michael,” his voice broke as Max threw the door open. “Michael, what happened? What’s happening?”

His only answer was a babble, words Alex couldn’t understand, words that doubled, tripled in on themselves, moved backwards to forwards and slid out of Alex’s mind the second he heard them, alien, unknowable.

“Michael!” The word wrenched out of Max’s mouth. Buffy paced behind him, whining, letting out a single loud, anxious bark that went unanswered as all the energy in the room funneled toward Michael.

“Hey—[][][][][][][],” Michael said, a horrible, gasping laugh rattling out of his chest.

As the words left his mouth, he groaned and curled in on himself, choking, splattering himself with more blood as it bubbled up between his teeth; then Alex had to strain to hold him still as his back snapped into an arch. Light flashed, then flashed again, and Alex’s logical mind wanted to call it lightning but—but it wasn’t. It came from inside Michael, as all the strength left his muscles and he collapsed, again, limp against Alex. He was so feverishly hot, even for him.

“What the fuck,” Alex whispered. His mind came up blank for anything else to say; his hands tightened, one hand’s nails digging into his bicep, a fistful of bloody shirt in his other. Michael tipped his head to the side, nodding against Alex’s chest.

“Alex,” he croaked.

“I’m here.” To Max, he repeated, “What the fuck? I saw him just a few hours ago, what the hell happened?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Max said, reaching out to grab him.

Alex’s hands tightened more, on pure instinct, clutching Michael to his body, but then he forced himself to let him go, to let Max lay hands on him.

Max continued, “I heard him in my head, like he screamed in my ear, and I just—knew he’d be here, somehow. It’s not normal, it’s not—we never hear Michael, he’s always closed off. I don’t know what happened.”

As he spoke, his hands wandered over Michael, across the bloodstains on his chest and neck. His brow furrowed; he moved as if on autopilot, until his hands found purchase on Michael’s temples, and he closed his eyes. Softly, his hands began to glow, and Alex held his breath.

If Max couldn’t fix him…

No. He wouldn’t even entertain the thought for a second, not when his body still tingled with the sense memory of Michael’s living heat. He couldn’t die; it went against nature.

Max grunted, and his exertion pulled Alex back down to earth. He couldn’t do anything for Michael that Max couldn’t right now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be helpful. Levering himself to his feet, he headed for the bathroom, Buffy following, barking anxiously. Wrenching open the medicine cabinet, he downed two Tylenol dry to head off the pain in his leg and hip he knew was coming, then from under the sink he snatched a fresh bottle of acetone and marched back to the den.

There, it was something out of a horror movie, rain lashing the windows, lit only by the artificial twilight of an afternoon storm, Michael spread out, skin grey, blood red, Max hunched over him looking half as sick, and Alex thrust the bottle at him.

“Drink,” he ordered, and as Max obeyed, guzzling the acetone, gasping between gulps, Alex returned to where he belonged—at Michael’s other side, holding on to him as if their bodies touching would be enough to keep his spirit tethered to this world—the only world—that is, the world they shared together, rendering all others that may exist utterly meaningless.

As nightmarish a scene as they made, Alex let out a sigh of relief when he clutched Michael’s wrist and felt his pulse strengthen. His eyes moved rapidly under his lids; his breathing was regular.

“It’s working,” Alex said, voice croaking out through a thickened throat.

“I hope,” Max groaned. “His mind is like—it’s like an animal fighting back. I need Isobel, I called her, but I’m afraid if she went in we’d lose her too. I can’t think—” his eyes met Alex’s, terrified. “It has to be Jones. Jones did something, I can’t think of anything else that might have done this.”

Alex could. But he seized on the opportunity to have an enemy he could exact answers from, one that didn’t lie at his own front door.

Absentmindedly, searching for soothing and knowing on a base level where it lived, Alex ran his fingers through Michael’s rain-soaked, sweat-soaked hair, stroking it away from his forehead. Blood was drying in rivulets now on Michael’s face and neck, and Alex followed the path of one with the tip of his finger, from the corner of his eye down his cheek.

How close had he come to losing him? If he’d been stuck in traffic, if he’d stopped for coffee on the way home, would it have been too late?

No. No thinking like that now. Stay in the moment.

“What do you need?” he asked Max, who finished off the acetone and tossed the bottle aside, reaching for Michael again.

“I think I won’t know until Michael wakes up again. If he does. If not…Isobel will be here soon.”

“When you heal, can you feel what it is you’re healing? Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

“Sort of?” Max’s hands began to glow again. “I’m healing burst blood vessels—all over his body. Internal scarring, almost like burns, it’s—bizarre.” He shuddered. “What I can feel from his head is separate, and I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

Michael shivered in Alex’s arms as Max placed his hands on his head again and filled his body with light, and Alex kept his eyes on Max, watching for any sign he was hitting his limit.

“How’s your heart?” He asked, though the concern flowed bitter and false over his tongue. Even at his coldest, most calculating, he wouldn’t bring himself to sacrifice Max outright, but if Max had to give his life to save Michael’s, would Alex truly stop him?

“I’ll live,” Max replied through gritted teeth.

Over by the door, Buffy rattled off a series of barks, getting louder and louder until the door slammed open. Alex flinched at the sound, hand flying to where his gun would be if he was wearing it, even though he knew with near-certainty who it would be.

“Where is he?” Isobel shouted, red-faced and panting as she rounded the corner into the living room, Buffy jumping and barking at her heels. “Michael!”

“Iz!”

The glow from Max’s hands faded, and he struggled almost to his feet, but Isobel was there before he stood fully, folding him into the hug he was trying to give her. Then Isobel reached for Michael, shoving Alex aside so she could cling to her brother, and Alex went.

She made a strangled noise when he was in her arms, limp and lifeless even after all Max’s effort.

“I’ll get more acetone. Maybe he’ll drink some,” Alex said, using the couch to pull himself to his feet.

Isobel continued to ignore him, but Max grabbed Alex’s wrist and said a quiet thank you as Alex left the siblings alone.

The bathroom door snicked closed behind Alex before he turned the light on, and in the dark he breathed in deep and deliberate until his lungs no longer caught on every inhale against his aching ribs, his galloping heart. He white-knuckled the sides of the sink to keep himself upright until the shaking stopped.

And when he checked all his welds and seams and found himself still watertight, he turned the light on, met his own eyes in the mirror, just once, and got back to business, grabbing the rest of the eight-pack of acetone.

Before he opened the door, his phone buzzed, and he flicked it open. It was a text from Forrest.

Hey! Just got back to the hotel after dinner. Having a great time so far…but I keep thinking I’d have more fun with you here. How’s my girl doing? And how’s my man?

Alex’s thumb hovered over the keyboard for a few seconds, lips pressed together, head blank of anything to say. Then, a lump in his throat, he shut it down without replying, and headed back to Michael and the Evanses.

He breathed a little easier when he re-entered the room and was met with a different scene than before. Max and Isobel had Michael laid out on the couch—and Alex’s mind flashed back to the way Michael had disappeared and reappeared and what the fuck was that?—and he rested more peacefully than he had before. Color was coming back to his skin.

Isobel sat on the arm of the couch, stroking Michael’s hair off his forehead, while Max sat on the floor at the other end, back against the couch.

“Thank you, Alex,” Isobel said, acknowledging him for the first time.

Alex acknowledged her back with a nod, as Buffy paced from the couch to the door and back again a few times, finally settling with a whuff against Max, resting her head on his thigh, looking up at him with huge, soft eyes.

“Hey girl,” he said softly, petting her ears.

“How is he?” Alex asked.

“Alive. Sleeping.” Isobel ran her hand across his forehead again. “We’ll see where his mind is when he wakes up.”

Alex sat on the piano bench, folding his hands between his knees. “Max kept saying he’d never felt anything like this before. Can you describe it to me?”

She groaned and rubbed her temples, and Max nudged a bottle of acetone closer to her. “It’s almost like interference, but not. There’s nothing in there that isn’t Michael; he’s not possessed. But it’s like Michael’s been repeated. A thousand different Michaels all shouting at once. He’s quieter now. But…I don’t know.”

Watching Michael’s face, approaching peaceful in an unconsciousness Alex was too fearful to be fooled by, Alex spoke slowly, uncertainly.

“When you discovered you could use telekinesis alongside your other powers, what was that like? Was it spontaneous, or…?”

“Not really? Noah said that we all had the potential for much more than we imagined, and—after—I was so angry, I thought, if Michael can use his anger this way, why not me?” She shrugged an elegant shoulder. “So I wouldn’t call it spontaneous. I could always have done it, I just never thought to, until I did. Like knowing how to swim and learning a new stroke. I was clumsy at it at first, but I was just doing something I already knew how to do in a different way.”

“Hm.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Before you both got here, Michael was…”

“He called me. Like your psychic scream, Isobel, except he’s never done that before. And he kept emitting light. While I was healing him,” Max said, looking up at Isobel. “Flashes of light. Not electricity.”

“And before you got here, he—teleported. Only word for it. Something none of you have ever done.”

“What?”

Isobel grabbed Michael’s shoulder tightly, like he might disappear right in front of her, like she could stop him. Max just shook his head silently. He really did look awful, eyes red, dark bruises beneath them, a shakiness to him that hadn’t been there last time Alex saw him, some random Thursday when he brought marshmallows to Michael’s because he’d never actually had a smore that wasn’t made in the microwave. Maybe his condition came down to the rigors of saving someone’s life with your own, but considering how worried Michael had been for weeks, Alex thought not.

“I don’t know,” Alex said, dragging his hands over his face. “None of us know. We’re just talking in circles.”

“I guess we just have to wait for Michael to tell us,” Max said.

“Or we go beat it out of that bearded f—”

“No, Isobel.”

“You can’t keep defending him.” Her voice went high and loud, zero to a hundred. “Look what he’s done! He almost killed Michael, what is wrong with you?”

“I’m not defending him!” Max shot back, wounded. “I’m telling you not to go running off on some half-cocked vengeance scheme when Michael still needs you here! If he’s lost inside his own head somehow, there’s no one who can help him but you. We’ll deal with Jones later, when we know Michael is safe.”

Isobel growled but capitulated.

Not letting any ugly silence settle, Alex got up and said, “I’ll put some coffee on.”

They watched over Michael for all the rest of that evening and into the night, as the storm quieted and the sun set and Michael’s hair dried into a familiar halo of curls. At some point, Isobel brought Alex’s groceries in, half-ruined, and Max made dinner with whatever could be salvaged. While they worked, Alex sat with Michael in a chair pulled up to the couch where he lay, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.

They started slowly. He eased up the hem of Michael’s ruined t-shirt with a pinch of fabric, without touching his body at all; he inched it up his back where it rested against the couch, until he ran out of room to work with cloth alone. The shirt bunched around his underarms.

Alex had no choice but to touch, so he did.

His hand still fit the circumference of Michael’s arm, and he lifted it. Michael moved without resistance, idle art in living warmth, velvet skin, liquid veins. Alex moved as if he was as delicate as glass. The second arm was no easier; Alex worked just as tenderly, every inch of his skin lit up with sensation. Leave no trace, like Michael’s body was some untouched scrap of woodland in Alex’s brief custody rather than the sweetly historied path toward home. But that was where Alex was right now, what time and choice made of them.

He pulled the shirt over Michael’s head, and it came away easy in his hands, and he went to his bedroom to get a new one.

The whole thing took less than a minute.

Michael slept on.

“Any change?” Max asked softly, handing Alex a plate of the dinner he’d already forgotten about. Buffy followed him from the kitchen, but she didn’t go after the food, opting for her bed beside the piano, where she continued to watch Max with adoring eyes. He didn’t comment on Michael’s shirt, for which Alex was pathetically grateful. In the kitchen, the water ran as Isobel did the dishes.

“No. Can…you sense any change? Through your bond, or through a handprint?”

“No. Maybe? When I first got here, he took up so much space, metaphorically, psychically, that it was almost hard to breathe. He feels more like himself now. Like he fits inside his body. So that’s probably good.”

“Probably,” Alex agreed.

The water shut off, and Isobel appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. “I’m going in,” she said flatly.

“What?” Max asked.

“His head. I’m going in. I need to see what he’s seeing; to try and pull him out. This?” she waved a hand at Michael. “Isn’t normal. Liz died and she wasn’t out this long. I’m going in to get our brother back.”

Take me with you? Alex almost said it, almost begged, as much a violation of trust as it would be to walk Michael’s mind uninvited. But as Max healed his body, as Isobel healed his mind, Alex was helpless to do anything, and he never wore helplessness well. It clawed its way out of him. It destroyed things if he failed to catch it in time.

But he held its leash tight, for now, and gave Isobel an equally tight nod.

“What do you need?”

“Space. No interruptions. It seems like you’ve got enough acetone”—five bottles were still left at the foot of the couch—“so I just need time.”

“You can have the guest bedroom,” Alex agreed.

He and Max carried Michael between them, sharing his weight. Some rearing and needy part of Alex wanted to do the work himself, bundle Michael in his arms and hold him close, but he’d already carried him once today, and Tylenol only went so far. Once he was situated on the bed, Max went to get acetone and water for Isobel.

Weak in the legs, Alex sat beside Michael’s head, never taking his eyes off him. He couldn’t; he wouldn’t. And neither was it a possibility for him to reach out and touch his hair, his forehead, his cheek, so he only watched.

In the door, Isobel cleared her throat. She held both liquids—Max had put them in different-colored cups—and set them on the bedside table before sitting on Michael’s other side.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Alex said, but made no move to go.

After a few seconds, Isobel made a frustrated noise and tossed her hair. “Whatever. You can stay.”

“I—really?”

“It’ll be boring, and if it freaks you out, you can’t interrupt. But yeah.” Alex opened his mouth to respond, but Isobel just held up a hand. “I don’t pretend to understand your weird alien soulmate bullshit. Yours or Max and Liz’s. And I don’t really care what your deal is with Forrest Long, but if you mess my brother around, I’ll end you.”

“I’m not—”

“Again, don’t care. I just know…” she softened. “…I just know how much you mean to Michael. So you can stay.”

Alex swallowed, the lump in his throat too big for him to answer with words, so he nodded, and Isobel nodded back.

“Okay. Starting now.”

Her eyes slipped closed as she lifted Michael’s hand and pressed it between both her own.

The world didn’t change; no power within Alex’s senses rippled between the two of them. Isobel wasn’t wrong to call it boring, as even the uncertain anxiety of what was transpiring in Michael’s head couldn’t keep his attention from wandering. Half an hour in, Max came into the room to stand beside the bed as well, and he clapped a hand on Alex’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze, an attempt that reassured neither of them. But it was a brother’s touch, and that meant something.

In that room, throughout that silent ordeal, they were family. Alex was part of that family. It was a feeling he had no room on the shelves for; it fit in none of his boxes. He could barely comprehend it, so it sat in the center of the floor, and for a few hours, everything rearranged itself neatly around the new centerpiece of his world, like it was meant to be there all along.

The night deepened on, pain and exhaustion graying Alex’s vision. Discretion and strategy overtaking his determination, he was close to calling it quits and attempting a few hours of sleep when Isobel surfaced, bone white and nose bleeding as Max scrambled to hand her the acetone.

“Did it—”

Max didn’t even finish the sentence before, with a drowning, sucking gasp, Michael followed her out. Alex shouted, elation, shock, fear, everything, as Michael coughed and coughed until a clot of blood dislodged from his throat, guzzling the water that Alex passed him. His bloodshot eyes met Alex’s over the rim of the glass, confused and shocked, and Alex just nodded, trying to say without words everything that…just everything.

Everything.

On Michael’s other side, Isobel was laughing, breathless and triumphant.

“I’m going to kill you! I’m going to fucking kill you,” she wheezed, throwing herself into Michael’s arms.

Michael’s eyes fell shut as he rested his head against hers. “I know,” he rasped in return, but his lips pulled into a smile anyway. “I know.”

“Michael,” Max said weakly.

And Michael replied, “I know.”

Max rounded the bed to fold the both of them into a hug. Alex might have even joined them, if he wasn’t—he realized only now—shaking too badly to move. But in the midst of all the sensory overload, the misfiring nerves electrifying his helpless flesh, one sensation rang true.

Alex’s hands rested on the bed, stiff and motionless, until one of Michael’s crossed that untouched skin, light at first then more firmly, finger atop finger, knuckle nestled into soft palm, and Michael held his hand and gave it a squeeze, and Alex squeezed him back.

#malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #malex #roswell new mexico #rnm fic #max evans #isobel evans #my fic

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