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barzzal · 3 years

Text

between halls and thin walls → part two

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: swearing, sex toys, masturbation, sexual/suggestive themes, and yenno, mathew :(

↳ genre: angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+ minors dni*

↳ length: series; part one, part two (5.9k), part three, part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: listened to a lot of beyoncé for this one !!

note: part two’s here!! and i know it’s late for an update but i just wanna thank everyone for commenting on the first part 🥺 really glad that you guys liked it. reading your tags are everything to me it means a lot! happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

You come out of your bedroom dressed and ready for work. Your handbag was slung over the depth of your forearm as you headed for the kitchen and the other, scrolling past emails on your phone, admittedly bracing yourself for the mess you know will eventually greet you.

To your surprise, what you see instead were Mat Barzal’s guns rippling through the jet black sweater he had worn last night. A memory that sent your mind to less than eight hours ago, before eventually landing on what happened shortly when the two of you had woken up.

“Thank god you haven’t burnt the house down.” you kid, placing your handbag atop the island.

Mat spares you a quick glance, rolling his eyes whilst he lets you watch him whisk some eggs for breakfast.

“Like it?” he cocks, pertaining to how your eyes were pinned hard on his biceps that he was, for the most part, effortlessly sporting. It’s true, though. He didn’t need to flex because it was just there.

“Coffee or Juice?” he asks, as the kind friend and roommate that he is.

Anthony, as surprising as it was, takes incredibly long showers. If people hadn’t known him well, they’d easily think he’s abusing himself there. But you’ve got to admit that not having him around felt nice for you didn’t have to feel so seen with Mathew.

‘Course, there’s nothing more, like a fix-in on the side, to your set up. You just appreciate the feeling of not having to lie to Beau about all the ugly concealed underneath all the innocent gazes you and Mathew exchange.

“Coffee.” you answer shortly, realizing that you forgot the material you need for today’s meeting.

“Where are you going?” Mat asks when he catches you receding out into the hallway. You didn’t bother looking back, “Forgot something!”

He gets back to whisking the eggs when a chime comes off his phone. He takes it from the counter, placed just before the plates he left to dry last night, absent-mindedly putting the bowl he was holding onto the island, toppling over the green juice he has prepared for himself.

“Shit.” he curses as soon as he sees it for it was already spilling all over the place, making the mess you’ve been secretly anticipating the moment Mathew said he’d make breakfast.

Panicking at how you’d see he’s successfully screwed such a no-brainer task, Mat grabs the first thing he sees on the marbled surface and uses it to clean the mess he’d made.

“Huh.” he muses to himself, realizing that the silk fabric didn’t do much in helping him clean up. He tosses it over the sink carelessly and grabs a few napkin rolls from one of the cupboards.

So much for making an effort to feed Anthony Beauvillier.

“Now, that was fast.” you say with a smirk once you’ve entered the kitchen, startling Mathew as he continued cleaning up after his mess.

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” he sarcastically laughs, discarding the paper towels onto the sink along with the used ones.

Thankfully, your stuff was at the other side of the island so it was very much safe from all the chaos happening at the other end of the marbled surface. However, your laugh dies down the second you realize that your handkerchief was no longer where you’ve last put it.

“Hey,” you call on Mathew, “What’s up?”

“Have you seen my handkerchief? I know I left it somewhere.” you anxiously ask, eyeing every corner of the room hoping to see Nana’s handkerchief, the one she gave to you on your 18th birthday.

“What does it look like?” Mat asks, now holding a pan in his hand as he prepares breakfast.

You proceeded to describe your grandma’s handkerchief in the most specific and perhaps excruciating detail Mathew has ever heard someone talk about something as mind-numbing as a handkerchief.

Despite that, Mat lights up the moment it hits him, not realizing the bigger mess he’s about to walk into. He rejoices at how he knew exactly what you were looking for, “Oh! You mean this?”

With clueless eyes, you watch Mat go over the sink after he wipes his hands dry, fishing out an all too familiar fabric from the sink. Once your eyes land onto the cream colored silk handkerchief, with details carefully sewn by hand, drenching in what seems to be Mat’s morning drink, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach.

“What did you do??” The sudden rise in your voice startles an unsuspecting Mathew. You eagerly went over to his side and hastily snatched the smooth fabric off his hands, “It’s ruined!”

“What? I didn’t know it was yours!” Mat’s eyes are wild with confusion. Puzzled at how you were so fixated on the useless fabric. It didn’t help him anyway. There’s nothing much left to do but to throw it. It’s garbage.

“You ruined it!” you lash out, letting Mat get eaten up by the sudden anger bubbling inside your guts but he was rather quick in defending himself, “I didn’t know it was yours since I grabbed the first thing I could find. Why are you getting upset over a shit-ass handkerchief?”

Your mouth falls and you shake your head, finding his defensiveness quite appalling. “You’re an ass.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was yours.” he explains, “Come on, it’s just a stupid handkerchief I’ll just buy you a new one.” he tries to laugh the tension off, sporting his signature grin.

Mat take shots of the stunned expression on your face, “Stupid?” you repeat what he said, your eyes already starting to sting with tears. Clearly, you were far too overwhelmed to even acknowledge Mathew’s half-assed apology.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” your words bite and that’s when things took a turn for the worse.

“I said I was fucking sorry! What the hell do you want from me? Shit a fucking hanky?” he rans a hand through his hair, “Do you realize how childish you’re being right now?”

Outraged, and perhaps disappointed by how he was too high up his horse, your voice takes up a higher tone, entering what seems to be an early screaming match between you and Mathew.

“Could you just–” you breathe, “for one second– stop being so goddamn stupid and get over yourself!?” were words that welcomed Anthony the moment he stepped into the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist, a grin on his face visible as he poured himself a glass of water, inviting himself in the screaming match you and Mathew have exclusively put forth for him.

“Stupid is not when you’ve already apologized a hundred times! Stupid is being such a crybaby and a bitch about it!” Mathew retorts, gaining his better end of the argument.

“What a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Anthony chimes in, a hand resting on his chin, adoring his two best friends upon getting used to the best worst duo he’s ever known in his life.

“Shut up, Beau.” you say, throwing him a glare.

“Well, beautiful is definitely not in Y/N’s dictionary.” Mathew chides with a smirk, enough to earn himself a scoff from you.

“You know what? I don’t have the time for this bullshit.” you cuss, finally retreating, your already heavy heart taking a better hold on your thoughts, blocking your ability to even come up with a clever remark to come back at Mathew.

You throw the delicate, yet already ruined piece of fabric towards his way as hard as you could before marching out of the kitchen and head off for work.

“Fucking unbelievable.” Mathew curses under his breath once he catches the silk linen, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the morning task at hand.

You were fucking unbelievable.

Once the boys were left alone, Tito raises a brow, briefly looking back after your footsteps, “What happened here, anyway?” he asks, having realized what must’ve caused such a heated argument so early in the morning.

“I used this handkerchief to wipe the whole thing off and she just went ape shit! I mean–” Anthony cuts Mathew the moment he recognizes the thin cloth he was holding.

“Woah, woah. Wait a minute, you used this?” he muses, stressing on the possibility of what might have been Mathew’s biggest mistake of the day, his eyes darting between him and the fabric.

With furrowed brows, admittedly weirded by how Anthony reacted almost the same way you did a while ago. “It’s just a handkerchief, man. I can go buy her a bunch if that’s what she wants.” he says defensively.

Anthony shakes his head wildly, his irises now dilated as he examined the stain already sitting on the material. “No no. Oh god no.” He says, snatching Mathew’s phone from the counter to google quick remedies that might remove the said stain from the already ruined cloth.

“What do you mean no? You guys spend way too much time together, you’re beginning to be as weird as her.” He scoffs, sipping on a glass of water.

“No, you dumbass. This was her grandma’s!” Anthony says, eyes fixated on the delicate handkerchief. Remembering how you’d told him how long it has been in your family that having Nana give it to you after all the years you’ve spent admiring it from afar meant so much to you than anything anyone could have possibly given you.

“So?” Mat casually replies, closing his arms to his chest before adding, “Is she dead or something? Didn’t you guys visit her for the Holidays?”

“What?? Why would you even say that?– You’re such a jerk.” Tito shakes his head, appalled by how Mathew easily shrugged the matter off when he knew full well how sentimental he himself could be.

“Well, how am I supposed to know?? If that thing’s so important I wouldn’t leave it on top of some random shit lying around!” He counters, defending himself for reaching for the nearest cloth he could find when he did whatever he does best when he’s in the kitchen.

Tito clicks his tongue and looks at Mathew exasperatedly, “Tell me, where did you find this exactly?”, to which Mathew only answered with a quiet voice, “It may or may not have been placed on top of her purse…” he avoids Tito’s gaze, finally catching on how he was the one in the wrong.

“See? Jerk. Now, go figure out how you’ll take the stain off.” Anthony demands, his voice embraced by a definitive tone. One that made Mathew know he wouldn’t be able to persuade him into letting this go.

Tito takes one good look at Mat’s catastrophic attempt to feed the house, striding his way out of the kitchen, “And make sure you apologize!” he adds, footsteps receding into the hallway, leaving Mathew scratching the back of his head out of guilt and frustration.

You have spent the following days either avoiding Mathew or ignoring his existence completely. Anthony talked to you the night that incident happened and assured you that he would do his best to have it fixed. You didn’t want to bother him nor take time off his already busy schedule, but you were just so bummed to even say a word.

That night, you spent the entire evening in your room, facetiming your mother, saying how much you’re missing home. You can’t bring yourself to tell her about the handkerchief. For some people, and that people being Mathew, it might’ve been just some silly thing but Tito knew how much that small piece of cloth meant to you.

Mathew, on the one hand, was for sure guilty to his bones. He didn’t see you that night nor the nights that followed. He didn’t think much of it but when he found himself searching for that same handkerchief in the hopes of replacing it only to find out that it was nowhere to be found in the market, was when he did realize that ruining the one thing that held you closer to home was the last push your non-existent relationship with him had to have for you to finally lose any ounce of amour nor civility you once had for him.

Anthony wasn’t a stranger for said changes either. He began waking up to a still apartment enveloped by a wall you profusely built between you and Mathew. You even unknowingly shut Tito out in the process as well. It was like you were grieving. Like, it was a whole different kind of heartbreak he knew he can’t get you out of that easily.

You tried making it up for your best friend of course. Knowing that you haven’t been yourself since that day. You thought about the possibility of having taken the whole thing too seriously that you might’ve overreacted a bit. Nonetheless, no matter how much you try to push it in the back of your head, Mathew’s mere presence began irking you in ways it never did back when you used to enjoy the bickering you exchange with him, especially in bed.

“Thanks for dinner, belle.” Anthony politely says, earning a smile from you so effortlessly upon hearing the pet name he uses for you. Something Mat only shrugged off, trying to piece out the same gratitude, “Thanks, y/n.” he genuinely adds. But as expected, he had nothing.

You pick up all the empty plates, including Mathew’s, who was sitting in front of you while Anthony sat at the end of the table. Tito hurriedly wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes the plate from you, “Let me help you with that.” he says with the same kind eyes that has never failed to win you over.

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” you shortly answer, leading the way towards the kitchen, leaving one Mathew Barzal feeling small and alone at the dining table.

𖥸

If there was one thing you’d gladly acknowledge after all the years of watching people kiss Mathew’s ass was that he was is really good. He’s fast and he can do unimaginable damage on the ice. There’s no denying that he deserves to be the face of the New York Islanders. But we know you don’t care about any of that. The only thing you care about was how unbelievably good he is at everything he does that not even you or your pink rubber toy could suffice.

He was just that damn good.

As your eyes shut whilst you mount your pleasures on your own, biting your lips to choke in your own moans, Mathew handling you was what circled your mind since you started defiling yourself in the bathroom. You let your arousal be washed away by the warm water trickling down your skin, envisioning Mat’s rough hands grazing your body, touching your core like his hands were meant to do nothing else but that.

It was wrong and pathetic, but you couldn’t think about anything else. You and Mathew have been avoiding each other for days. The dynamic went so much worse than when you weren’t sleeping together and you know that Tito was bound to notice it soon. Thankfully, the boys were on another roadie for a week so you had quite some time to think things through about your current sitch with Mathew. You didn’t like any of it because it felt like you gave a fuck (which obviously, you didn’t). You just feel obligated to sort things out with the biggest ass that ever lived because you didn’t want to involve Tito into the mess you’ve wrongfully made yourself.

You hop off the shower feeling unsatisfied. You haven’t gotten laid since the last time you were with Mat. Which is sad, not just for you but also for her. You’d think considering the boys aren’t around you’d bring someone home, maybe even one or two. But just thinking about going on bars alone so you could find a potential bone-mate is already far too tedious and you weren’t in the right state to do so. You had so much going on at work, anyway. And you can always use a wand to scratch an itch. Neither would satisfy you more than how someone-who-will-not-be-named could, but you might as well be pathetic without having to hook up with some random dude whose name you’ll eventually forget in the morning.

You opted to wear an old pull-over you borrowed (took) from Tito years and years ago and partnered it with some leggings so you’d be comfortable enough for the rest of the night. You have nothing else to do and you are already fed up with your workload that watching a crappy movie off of Netflix doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

With a giant bowl of popcorn and two bottles of beer in your hands, you march your way into the living room, ready to spend the night binge watching romantic comedies, crying and laughing in between. Or maybe just fall asleep on the couch while your comfort TV series is on.

The boys won three games out of the four that they had during the trip and you only saw the ones they won so you were thankful that you didn’t have to sit at home alone watching their faces fall after that OT lost against the Flyers. Anthony phoned you that night and you can just feel the relief in his voice that you didn’t have the time to see it. They weren’t playing like they should. Thankfully, they were able to bounce back.

Your eyes were beginning to grow tired halfway into the movie when you hear the front door open, followed by luggages dragged into the house tirelessly.

“Y/N?” Anthony calls out.

You hit the movie on pause and hurriedly make your way towards the hallway. “You’re home already?”

They were already taking their coats off when you met them halfway, Tito was putting his away while Mat had just taken off his toque and was running his hands through his hair, unconsciously meeting your eyes upon hearing your voice.

You quickly break it off when you give Tito a quick embrace and plant a small kiss on his cheeks, “I texted you.” he says, eyebrows quirked, surprised that you didn’t know.

In an effort to avert any more of his questions you immediately point towards the movie you had on, “Haven’t checked my messages, sorry.”

“So, you guys ate dinner?” you ask, passing Mat a quick look. One that came as a surprise because he wasn’t even hoping to hear a word from you given the way you two left things a little too on the edge, screwing with the whole thing even more.

Mat avoids your irises and faintly nods.

“Big win tonight huh? Told you, you can do it.” you say with a beaming smile, nudging Tito with your hips as you get back to watching your film. “You gotta do what you gotta do, babe.” he winks, lugging his stuff around towards his bedroom.

“Barz, don’t stay up, Trotz needs us first thing in the morning.” he looks back, reminding Mat who was already standing in front of his door, “Yeah. Sure.” he replies shortly with a tired voice.

You and Anthony bid your own goodnights whilst Mat mutters a quiet “Night.” when you nodded his way, clearly not enjoying any of the first awkward encounters he’s yet to have with you. Seven days is quite a reasonable time for your anger to dissipate, a short yet seemingly long period of time that’s just enough to kill off whatever guilt Mat had initially felt before you parted ways.

𖥸

“Alright, I’m off.” Tito casually declares, putting on his watch. “There’s food in the fridge, and tell Mat to go easy on my beers.” he gives you a knowing look as he bends down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

Tito had been seeing some mystery girl for quite some time now. He hasn’t told you anything spicy in particular but by the looks of it, you could already tell that she has him towed.

“Good luck, loverboy.” you say, swatting his hand away and pushing him out to the door. The two of you cringe at what you said, sharing one last laugh before you watch him disappear out into the hallway.

The apartment was cramped the whole day because Anthony and Mat had the day off. Tito had plans for the night, obviously. As per you, you had plans lounging in the living room, switching through channels in the hopes of stumbling on a show that isn’t half as bad than the rest.

Thankfully, a Sandra Bullock film was on HBO.

The Proposal, to be exact.

You decide to dive in the film with a cold bottle of beer on your hand. There was no way you’d be washing down the effects of a naked Ryan Reynolds with a glass of water. You haven’t gone mad.

The film was already at the part where Sandra was proposing to Ryan when you hear Mathew’s door open. You haven’t talked since the night they came back home other than the small nods you exchange upon passing by each other. All of which are mind-numbing and impossible to swallow. The awkwardness has not dissipated completely unlike what you presumed. You were just grateful Tito was always around that you didn’t need to be alone together.

Alarmed by another impending awkward encounter, you clear your throat and turn up the volume a little to remain focused on the film, investing your sole attention to it even if you have seen the movie countless times.

Mathew, in his sweats and a gray shirt on, carefully makes his way out the hallway and into the common area after snatching a glass of water from the kitchen. You see him move further into the room but you make sure that he knows you weren’t paying attention. You take that he must’ve been thirsty and needed a drink but you don’t see him move further in the corner of your eye like he was making his way back in his room. It almost seemed like he was actually waiting for you to look his way.

Hesitantly, you follow your gut feel and see him standing a few feet away from you. “Yes?” you ask when you catch him staring.

Mat blinks a few times, “Hi.” he takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness circling the two of you.

When the only thing he gets from you is a tight lipped smile, he shakes his head and proceeds to walk where you were seated.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice deep and clear enough to send your mind elsewhere.

Regardless, you contain yourself and return a polite smile, “No. Not at all.”

“So, what are we watching?” he sits once you gestured onto the other end of the couch.

“The Proposal.” you answer before throwing a question yourself, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting now?” you shake your head, absentmindedly chuckling. Not intending to make him feel that you’ve forgotten about what he’d done weeks ago.

“I couldn’t sleep.” he props his back and lets himself sink in the cloud couch, his legs spread wide eating up most of the space left for the two of you to share. “Oh. I only like him when he’s Deadpool” he points out, cringing at how you were watching another one of your romantic comedy films.

You roll your eyes, admiring how he’s trying to break the tension between the two of you despite his unsolicited sentiments, “I like it when we were on not-speaking terms.”

Mat mocks you for a while but decides to watch the movie so you let him be and get back to the film, letting a giggle slip every now and then. Something you thought Mat wouldn’t notice.

Watching the remainder of the film went with ease. ‘Course, Mat would steal a few glances here and there (ones he thought had gone unnoticed), but overall the quietude between the two of you was bearable. Almost like it was just two buddies hanging out.

Although, not long after, your eyes were torn away from the huge flat screen when Mat spoke, “By the way,” he looks at you and calls your attention.

Puzzled, you watch him take something from his pocket, “Here.”

Once you see what he has in his hands your heart froze. Mat carefully hands you the cloth with an apologetic smile; his eyes soft with a hint of hope as he watches your reaction.

“What– How?” you ask in bewilderment, failing to comprehend how he was able to fix the handkerchief. It looked the same as before. All of its details were in place, it was good as new. You were holding Nana’s handkerchief.

Mathew didn’t bother to dance around and just offered you a quiet chuckle, evidently enjoying the wide smile painted on your lips. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” he apologizes, shielding you from all the strings he had to pull just to get that cloth fixed up.

You hold the smooth and delicate piece in your hands as you look at Mat, letting your feelings get a better hold of you, “Thank you.” you say, unknowingly reaching out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you give him a quick peck on the cheek.

Mathew’s hand instinctively finds your back to support you, startling himself in the process. Nonetheless, the thought was easily shrugged off by how close your faces were, your smiles fading once you meet each other’s gaze. You feel the same rush you felt the night you and Mat got involved for the first time. Your hand was placed rather endearingly on his cheek, your faces, just like all the other times, unreasonably close to each other. Mat then clears his throat and only looks you in the eye.

Afraid that the innocent hug would lead to something more, perhaps another mistake to be jotted down on the board, you breathe a laugh and break away, “Uh, thanks again. It really means a lot.”

Mat must’ve sensed that you were being cautious so he puts his guards up and returns a chuckle, “So… we good?” he asks, reaching out a hand your way.

Your fingers slide into his, gliding its way perfectly, your hands fitted well with his despite the obvious difference in proportion. His grip tightens in the most comfortable way possible.

A smile breaks off his lips once he hears you answer, “We’re good.”

“I should probably get some sleep.” Mat tells you the moment you pull your hand away.

“Are you gonna be okay here?” he adds.

You looked at him, not wanting him to be obligated to keep you company, “Oh, yeah. I’m a big girl.” you say, making Mathew grin, shaking his head.

“Alright. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Not picking up on whatever sloppy insinuation Mat has thrown out carelessly into thin air, he hears a simple “Mkay.”

Thus far, letting him know that his subtle invitation was far from being RSVP’d.

𖥸

“You’ll be in your room?” Mat scoffs, staring at the ceiling while he lays on his bed, “The fuck was that, Mat?” he scolds himself for always coming up with the worst things to say.

Mathew would be lying if he’d say he hasn’t thought about you (or doing you) for the past week of not being around home. But he definitely wouldn’t deny that the roadie kind of made things easier for him because then he didn’t have to stomach seeing you walk around the flat looking like the hot piece of ass that you were in his eyes.

Mat knows he needs to pull his shit together. He wasn’t some 13 year-old boy raging with hormones. He needs to control himself around you and he could only do that once he learns how to push this whole thing between the two of you behind him.

What happened with you and Mathew shouldn’t have happened at all. It was just a moment of weakness, and he hated that he’d let his dick (and apparently, him being one) ruin the relationship he once had with you.

Before that night, seeing you do yoga and work out on the terrace was just seeing you drenched in sweat, and in your work out clothes looking icky and constipated. Something he’ll later on tease you about and he’ll end up catching the water bottle you throw in his face. But now, after all that fucking, seeing you sweaty and all worked out in the same yoga pants is just like walking into a porn commercial. Like the ones they show before the actual porn. In fact, he doesn’t even have to watch any of it. Tents and Boners were pretty much sponsored by you from then on. It’s sick, and he knows it.

However, the tension he feels with you is palpable that he’s even certain that you feel it too. But how can he be wrong? He sees how your eyes blink a few times when he’s fresh out the shower, he sees you follow his trance when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, and you never fail to slide him shadowed hints with every touch you “accidentally” pass at him. The kind that’s short enough to remain innocent but not so much as to keep him at bay. Mat hated everything about it. He hated that he wanted you– and he hated that he thinks he might be right about you wanting him too.

All that self-loathing aside, did he regret it?

That was one of the things he feels bad about. Because as much as he wants to lie and push it aside, he didn’t regret any of it. He didn’t like you that way and just thought about you sexually but he just wishes that you could push past this and just be friends. He was still sexually attracted to you, yes. But he knows he’d eventually get over it and be back on his game. That is if he can ever find someone who’d be as good as how you were the last three times you’ve let him be with you because it would really help him a lot if he could stop picturing your mouth getting stretched by his cock every time he hops into the shower.

Mat was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. The shy banging sound made his heart beat rapidly in an instant, knowing full well that the two of you were alone in the house and that Tito was, in no way, going to be home for another hour or two.

A faint knock follows the first one before he gets to the door.

“Hi.” you greet him, a moment unfolding like it was déjà-vu.

“Hi.”

“Did I wake you?” you sheepishly ask, your hands balled into fists before eventually settling down to hug your own build, unsure of where to put your hands exactly.

Mat quickly shakes his head, “No. I couldn’t sleep myself.”

You offer him a smile, acknowledging how he’s been nothing but good to you ever since they got home. Of course you wanted to get your hands on him being that you were completely dry and horny ever since you’ve ignored him completely, but you haven’t gone mad and you weren’t a complete neanderthal. You can keep your hands to yourself and act like a decent human being.

“I’m sorry for making things weird between us.” you say, your eyes heavy with guilt. “But I’m only apologizing for being so unreasonable for the last couple of weeks.” you reiterated.

To which he only answers with, “You shouldn’t be. You have every right to be unreasonable– and I know that I’ve been a giant prick that day. It’s what I deserve.” he bites his lower lip, scratching his brow as he continues, “That’s why if there’s someone who owes someone an apology, it should be me. What I did was pretty crappy, so… I’m sorry.”

Like all the other times, Mathew towers over you wearing the same confidence he does when you’re around. Your bodies were reasonably apart from each other but close enough to mean something else if someone had walked by. Mathew was still in his room while you were out in the hallway, separated by the thin line made by the door frame.

You feel Mat’s steady breathing and everything went still. He looks down at you, pretty eyes drowning yours. His messed up bed hair ridiculously makes up for how dressed down he was. No, actually, he looks fine even when he is. And all of that sight instantly makes your throat dry as you feel something curl in your belly, enough to make your hands sweaty as the thought of tasting his lips again cruised your mind entirely.

Mathew was no stranger to the said feeling either. He watched you punish him more at how plump and inviting your lips were. Or how your hand brushed on your clothes as you remain uncomposed under his gaze.

Mat was becoming accustomed to how the two of you meet. Same time, same place, only this time, a different hallway. He steps further and crosses the line that divides the two of you, making you take a deep breath as his scent floors every nerve in your body. Waking what has been awake ever since that moment you shared back in the living room even more.

“Yeah, okay.” you gather yourself, “I– I should probably head back.”

Just by how his shoulders dropped, you knew you had said the wrong thing. And you hated that you did. Mat clears his voice and swallows, breaking off his gaze, “You probably should.”

“Good night, Mat.” you smile, trying to regain yourself.

“Good night.” he replies as he watches you turn your back before finally closing the door behind him.

Frustrated for he was already starting to feel things more than just being “sorry”, Mat leans against the door and runs a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath and tries to get you out of his head.

He was about to walk away from the door and sleep off his frustration when he hears your faint footsteps on the other side of the door. He rests his head back on the wooden surface and sighs, “You’re still out there, aren’t you?”

There was a total silence for a moment, devoid of the knowledge of how you had your fist, ready to knock yet again, suspended in mid-air.

Mathew hears you deny sheepishly, “No.”

You hear him let out a small laugh, knowing that he was trying to contain himself.

The door sprung open again, and for a second you thought how what you’re about to walk into will start another mess for you and Mathew. But how could you possibly think about it that way when you have nothing else but this man standing at the other end?

A friend that took no seconds to waste as he finally lets his thirst and perhaps foolishness, get the better hold of him once he cages your heated face in his hands, crashing into your lips as fast as he’d taken you to his end of that thin gray line that has once irkingly parted him from you. A gray line you’re both willing to cross if that meant sharing another night in between halls and thin walls.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey smut #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

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page150 · 3 years

Text

Ruined 📱César x Reader (Enemies to Friends)

Request: None :(

Pronouns: None Stated

Word Count: 1888

Warnings: angst, mention on killing

It was night time in Los Angeles. The sky with it’s beautiful great white clouds had already turned from bright blue to black. Before, when you had waited on your porch, you noticed a few stars that poked out in the sky. You had felt a light chill in the air and as you stressed inside, you knew it had increased.

In your living room you paced back and forth. Your phone clutched in your hand as you stared down at it. Waiting for anything really. With each random notification you felt your nerves sky rocket. None of them were the ones you needed to ease your nervousness. You tripped lightly on the small hills in the carpet that had been made from your pacing, and looked at it as a sign you should sit down.

Right as you sat down you heard a knock on the door. It was different from your guardians and not like your boyfriend’s. His was sharp and in a pattern that the two of you had created. This one was soft, only one gentle tap.

The door was opened and you felt your heart drop a little. It was only César, but you could barely see him. He was sheltered in a thick black coat, a black beanie that was scrunched in his hand. Memories of your last encounters with him flashed in your mind. All the missed calls, the lies, the arguments. The last thing you wanted to do was have him disturb whatever peace that remained in your empty home.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

In your head you smacked yourself at your response.

He walked in. You noticed that he still had his shoes on. He used to always take them off when he visited, because he knew that that’s how your guardian liked it. You rolled your eyes as he sat down on the couch and shuffled something in pocket. His eyes were low to the ground, head close to his neck. You could faintly hear the quick tap of his sneakers against the wooden floors.

“Is there a reason you're here? No offense, but usually you would call and it doesn’t look like you’re staying for long.” You ask, picking up your phone again.

“Yeah, I can’t stay for long” He pauses. In a way you were glad, you didn’t really want to see him anyways, but then his eyes glance at you, then turned away. “I just needed to ask you something.”

“What?”

He didn’t meet your eyes. You moved to sit down next to him, placing your phone on one of the cushions. You noticed how close you had gotten to him so you moved away a bit. You hated how you missed sitting next to him. Basking in the warmth he produced.

He perked up and put on a fake smile. “Olivia wants you to come to her quinceañera.”

You reply with a small smile at the sound of her name. “Does she really? I’m not that close with her, but I would love to go. Will Monse and Jasmine be there too?”

“Yup. She would really like for you to come. They all miss you.” He whispers.

Your smile falls. Now you’re looking at the ground as well. The chocolate colored wood isn’t as interesting as he makes it out to be.

“I know you didn’t just come here to tell me that. Spit it out. I'm busy.”

Cesar sighs and looks at you. You had never seen him so uncomfortable. It was like you sitting next to him was torture. He didn’t even act like this when he accidentally walked in on you in the bathroom one time. His eyes looked sad. Not glossy enough for tears to fall, but almost. He took a deep breath, mustering up courage to tell you the truth.

“Where’s Latrelle?”

You get up immediately at his words. By the sound of his name the room seemed louder now. Your hands grab your phone again and you sigh in relief as you feel it’s weight, but there were no missed calls from your boyfriend, not even a text message.

“What did he do now? Does he owe you money? I’ll pay for it, how much?” You rambled.

Cesar gets up as well. “It’s not about tha-”

“No I’m serious.” Walking towards your room you grab your wallet and pull out a bunch of crumbled bills. It was the money Latrelle had given to you for your birthday. The smell of the expensive perfume he partnered it with still lingered on the bills.

“This is $150, I can get more if he made a big mistake.” You joked. Cesar didn’t laugh, “so he made a really big mistake.”

“You know what I have to do, y/n.”

“No,” You gulp. “Just take the money. He’ll be back later and I’ll talk to him. I can talk to him, I’m very persuasive.”

“He rolled up on me and Monse, y/n. We could’ve gotten hurt. It’s not my decision, it's Oscar’s.”

“I’m sorry for that and I’m glad that both of you are okay, but you don’t have to kill him! He’s a kid, Cesar. We’re kids!”

“I’m a kid that almost got shot and now it’s his turn! Don’t you care about Monse? Don’t you care about me? I don’t know why you’re still dating him! Just be a good friend and give me the information.”

Something in you was switched on with what he said. Suddenly everything that had made you want to keep the door closed was back again. You dropped your phone and walked towards him. You push an accusing finger into his chest. All your anger that was fueled toward Latrelle moved towards Cesar in a wave that almost swept tears to fall from your eyes.

“I was a good friend and don’t you forget it. I was your friend! You pushed me away! I care about you, Ruby, Monse, Jamal, Jasmine, all of you! But, then you got all secretive and kept hiding things from me. You pushed me to the side and kept me away from your friends. It was supposed to be you and me and I don’t even care if you’re dating Monse now, but I was hurt. You hurt me and Latrelle was there when you weren’t. He was there after you ruined everything! Now you come into my house in the middle of the night asking me to rat him out? After you’ve ignored me for months? Fuck you!”

César opened his mouth to say something, but your phone vibrated on the floor. You both looked at it, Latrelle was calling, on your phone screen you could see the cute photo of you on his back pop up. It was taken at the fair, two weeks after César got Ruby to uninvite you to a party.

César looked away, “You can pick it up. Warn him if you want. You know I could never hurt you.”

Tears rolled down your cheek now. Any words that you wanted to say were clogged in your throat. The phone buzzed and buzzed until it stopped. You fell to your knees and clutched it, bringing it close to your chest. Sobs wrecked through you. They stomped at your heart and you knew what was going to happen. Cesar could only look down at you. He felt something pull him to you but he fought against it. He walked out the door closing it softly behind him.

“Cesar please,” You cried. You got to your feet and chased after him. The night was cold and you shivered at it’s emptiness. All around you the world seemed to have shut down. You and him were the only living things that dared to move.

You ran towards César and he opened his arms to bring you into a hug.

“If I don’t do this our friendship will be ruined. Your life will be ruined, y/n please let me go so I can come back to you.” He cried.

His arms wrap around you. His lovely warmth fought against the chill of night. You realize that the darkness that came from your face being pressed against his chest was more comforting then the darkness you knew would come from the absence of Latrelle. You ignore the feeling of the outline of a gun pressed against your abdomen. He held you up, as you suddenly felt heavy. You both fall to your knees. He pressed a kiss on your forehead, his hands moved to rub circles on your back.

“It’s not your fault, baby. I’m sorry for ghosting you. Life just got so hard. I didn’t want you to have to deal with it. I want you to stay safe.” He cries harder. You just hold him tighter, not wanting to let go. Not wanting it to end. For once you didn’t feel so angry when you thought about him, you could just enjoy his comfort, but memories don’t just disappear like that.

“I will. I can stay safe. I just want you to stay safe too. I know you'll kill him regardless of what I say. I’ll be honest, Latrelle’s made a lot of mistakes.” You take a deep breath. “In a weird way I’m glad you're doing it, he’s made so many enemies, but I don’t want him bleeding out near the gutter like garbage. Don’t hurt him, be quick.”

The both of you sat there in silence for a while. Collapsed in each other's arms like tired returning lovers. César cleared his throat.

“I have to ask,” He muttered. “Why are you so calm about this?

You pause for a moment. Why were you so calm? Internally you didn’t feel calm. You felt like a kid desperate for love. You felt disloyal for ratting out someone who at least attempted to make time for you. Choosing to rebuild friendship with César or to keep someone alive who doesn’t want to change was so incredibly difficult. To calm your mind you told yourself it was going to happen either way. If César doesn’t kill him, Oscar will, or some other person would get him. It was a matter of time, but César had treated you wrong. Feeling a headache storm in your mind you responded.

“I’m not stupid I know how this works. Latrelle could have shot you or Monse. I hate how he always tries to be someone he isn’t. I hate it.”

He looks down at you. Not necessarily a smile, but his face showed that a weight was lifted. One of many. A face that ignored a weight that was now pulling you down. He lifted your chin up moving to kiss you. You turn your head and pull away.

“I don’t think I can. I haven’t forgotten.” You mumble.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders. “That’s okay and I’m truly sorry y/n.”

You nod and look up at the few stars. Maybe there were more, but it was a cloudy night.

“You should go home.” He suggests.

“Okay.” You move his arm and get back up. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, he noticed it.

“Y/n…”

“Goodnight César.” You replied.

You wrapped your arms around your body and walk away. Leaving Cesar where he was in the dark.

Author's Note: ok so there might be a part 2 to this so stayed tuned! follow my twitter for updates @/thepage150 anyways i got my first 60 notes on a post so you can hold the applause thank you thank you! & REQUESTS ARE OPEN so please leave a request! [no smut/no real people (ex. Harry Styles, Dream)] If you enjoyed this please like and follow for more. I have a huge surprise when we reach 100 <3!! Have a wonderful day ~c'k

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dynyamight · 3 years

Note

Hello! Could you do this one :

192 - You make me feel alive. For the first time ever, I feel like I can breathe.

Thanks ☺☺

192. You make me feel alive. For the first time ever, I feel like I can breathe.

“My, you’ve grown so tall and handsome, Katsuki! I can barely recognize you!”

Bakugou shrugs stiffly, hands deeply shoved in his pockets. “..Evenin’, Auntie.”

“Hurry, hurry!” Inko quickly beckons him inside the apartment, with frantic hand motions. “The cold air will get you sick the longer you stand out there.”

After a few tentative steps inside, and offering a mumbled pardon of intrusion, Bakugou makes a look around the small home.

God, everything looked eerily the damn same.

The miniature sofa, the kotatsu, the TV airing the local news, the rickety old dining table, in the same faded wood color just like before. The kitchen, probably looks the same, too.

Nothing new.

And, oddly enough, Bakugou was glad. Familiarity was very much needed, right now.

“Let me take your coat, dear.” Inko shushes quietly, right beside him. When Bakugou twists his head down, he looks to see her offering a soft smile.

Something in his chest clenches. “Nah, s’fine.” He coughs, struggling to meet her gaze. “..We’ll be leaving soon, anyway.”

“You know, that’s what you always told me, back when you two were kids.” Inko voices gently, “Waiting at the front door. Ready to head out, as soon as Izuku stepped out.”

“It warms my heart to see you two together.” She says, gazing at him, with that same comforting expression she used to give him long ago.

The inside of his palms are damp, sweating nervously. All he can offer is a quick nod of acknowledgment, without losing his cool in front of her.

Sure, they weren’t close before, but Inko only remembers him as that child. The one that was her son’s best friend. The one that knocked at her front door, jumping in his sneakers excitedly. The little boy who guided her son out of her home, and brought him back, safe and sound.

And, the same guy who was once the source of all of her beloved son’s distress, turmoil, and torment.

He hopes Midoriya has told her redeeming things about him, now that she knows that part. Because, there’s no way in hell he can sell himself any better.

A door to the right of the hallway opens in that instant.

With his back turned away from them, Midoriya steps out in an obnoxious All Might pajama set, barefooted.

He’s holding up two sweaters, dangling from each hand. “Mom!” He calls out towards the dining room, “Which one looks better? Yellow or red?”

“I can’t tell, Izuku.” Inko states easily, “Turn around.”

Doing a double take, Midoriya pivots in his stance, almost tripping over the long pants. “Oh, when did you get behind-?”

Midoriya’s face drops, before the shirts hit the floor.

Bakugou snorts, while Inko intently gazes at the fallen clothing. “I would think the burgundy one would look wonderful, sweetie.” She advises, regardless.

Quickly, Midoriya gathers and shoves his sweaters in his arms, and hurries back into his room, slamming the door shut. The click of a lock echoes, alongside a bunch of stressed, inaudible words.

“..You sure you don’t want me to take your coat?” Inko asks him. This time, there’s a knowing, small teasing expression on her face. “Izuku might take a while longer.”

Bakugou doesn’t wait for long, seated under the warming kotatsu. His drums his fingers on his thighs, here and there. And, the heat does get a little stuffy, while wearing black jeans and a turtleneck.

But, otherwise, it’s not intolerable. Inko had offered him plenty, during his wait; a hot mug of ginger and cinnamon tea, a small plate of cookie biscuits, and her silent, yet welcoming company. She even insisted on covering his shoulders with a large blanket, engulfing him completely.

“Anything for you.” Inko reassures him, despite having not voiced anything. “You have done so much to keep Izuku happy. It’s the least I can do.”

The overbearing politeness runs in the family, like a disease.

He feels he should thank her, or better yet, try to have a conversation with her. But, each time he builds up the internal guts to say something, the words get caught in his throat.

He wants to make sure he says the right thing to Midoriya’s mother. Unfortunately, he desperately wants her approval.

So, when Midoriya finally walks around the corner, in a nice pair of jeans and that same burgundy sweater from before, Bakugou’s relieved to say the least.

He feels saved.

“Now, the night is only getting colder, by the minute.” Inko hurriedly tells them, as the three of them walk to the front door, “This winter season has been terribly freezing! My heart can’t handle either of you catching the flu, let alone both of you! So, try to make it home not only safe, but healthy. Oh, and if you are unable to catch the last train, please let me know! I will gladly-”

“It’s okay.” Midoriya reassures her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll be okay.”

“I know, I know. Just please-”

“Call you when we’re on our way home.” Midoriya answers easily. “Yeah, I will.”

“..You promise?”

“I promise, Mom.”

They share a sweet, long embrace, which Bakugou can’t help, but look away.

Something about their close bond, and unashamed love for each other feels intrusive for him to be a part of.

Something that he doesn’t deserve to be a part of. At least, not yet.

Instead, he solely focuses on readjusting his winter coat over his shoulders.

On their languid walk towards the metro station, a few blocks away from the apartment complex, Midoriya slips his hand in his.

“You told me 20:00, Kacchan.” He whines, however.

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “It was.” He corrects in a huff, “Until you fucking said I could drop by an hour early.”

“Wha—? When did I say that?”

“During our damn lunch break, yesterday.” Bakugou incredulously stares at him. “The hell? You were the one who came up to me and literally said it yourself. How your conference for today with the academy got cancelled. ”

For a moment too long, Midoriya stays silent, visibly mulling over the words in his head. Each quiet second makes Bakugou more internally baffled, downright shocked.

If it weren’t for Midoriya’s warm hand loosely holding onto him, he’d crackle a couple explosions, in spite.

“Oh. I did.” Midoriya breathes out laughing, bringing his other hand to his face. “I completely forgot.”

“Shitty Deku.” Bakugou grunts. “Starting the night off wrong, already?”

“Hey! Don’t go making me feel bad, Kacchan!” With pleading eyes, Midoriya looks up at him. “I didn’t mean to forget. School’s been hectic recently, and you know that.”

Those huge, bright green eyes. His kryptonite.

Bakugou clicks his tongue. “..Whatever. S’not like the wait was awful.”

“Oh god, I hope my mom wasn’t too much with you.” Midoriya messes with Bakugou’s fingers in between his, tightening and letting go of them.

“Not at all.” Bakugou lies.

Smiling, Midoriya lets out a big sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. If you two didn’t get along tonight, I might have had an aneurysm.”

“If you had to choose—” Bakugou starts.

Midoriya narrows his eyes. “Stop it.”

Bakugou scoffs, slipping out an air of mirth into it. “Obviously your mom.”

“Obviously, it would be too hard of a decision to make.” Midoriya corrects. “Hopefully that time never, ever, ever comes.”

Despite trying not to smile, Bakugou feels the traces of a smirk on the corners of his lips. “If that day ever happens, always pick Auntie.” He states easily, “Her heartbreak would be so fucking intense. Put all natural disasters to damn shame.”

With a small, slipped out laugh, Midoriya bumps their shoulders together, softened by their winter coats. “You are weirdly making sense, Kacchan.”

“Of course I’m making fucking sense. She cries over the thought of someone taking you away. Villain, or not.”

“Every mother is like that!”

“Hell, I’m damn surprised Auntie didn’t flip her shit from seeing me.” Bakugou honestly confesses finally, more to himself than to Midoriya. “Dating her one and only son, and she didn’t even freak out about it.”

And, just like that, Bakugou knows something is wrong, from the moment Midoriya stays quiet.

They continue to walk, despite the sudden tense mood between them. But, that doesn’t mean Bakugou doesn’t want to demand Midoriya to speak up, the longer he keeps his mouth shut.

But also, he doesn’t want to ruin their night, and so, he waits begrudgingly.

Right as the two are on the outskirts of the metro tunnel, Midoriya twiddles Bakugou’s fingers nervously.

“..I haven’t told her about us yet,” He admits, face morphed in guilt. “But, I mean, she could very easily guess our intentions tonight. So, maybe— I don’t know —she might know.”

Bakugou hums, allowing himself a few seconds to process that. He then breathes a long air through his nose. “..I figured.” He simply says.

“It’s not like I want to hide us.” Midoriya voices aloud, furrowing his brows. “It’s just with graduation coming up, and the academy still looking for an agency to accept me as anything, and then my father suddenly wanting to come back into our lives, she’s just been a little stressed with everything going on, including myself. And, I don’t want to potentially ruin us and-”

With a tight grip, Bakugou halts them to a sudden stop.

When Midoriya worriedly gazes at him, he offers him back a nod. “Yeah, I get it.” Bakugou firmly states.

“Kacchan, I-”

“You’re fine. Don’t worry about it.”

And, he really means it.

While people bypass them, heading through the automatic doors of the metro station, they both remain standing, staring back at each other.

The first to break is Midoriya, releasing a big, tired sigh. “You’re right.” He frowns, looking away. “I’m totally ruining this date night. I’m sorry.”

Pulling his hand out of the hold, Bakugou instead brings his arms over Midoriya’s shoulders. He hugs them close. “No, you’re not.”

“I am.” Midoriya responds backs, muffled.

“We’ve been on more shit dates, Deku.” Bakugou tells him in his ear. “And, this ain’t one. It barely even began.”

“A whole year, and I—I haven’t even told her.” Midoriya shakingly admits. “I’m such a coward.”

Bakugou huffs. “You’re not. The talk ain’t easy. Hell, telling my hag and old man about us was like pulling teeth out of my damn mouth.”

“..At least you told them.”

“Listen, you went through a lot of shit, two years ago.” Bakugou reminds Midoriya, bluntly. “The running away. The dropping out. The undercover work. The public hate. Getting together after all fucking that, probably wasn’t even the best move.”

“I still remember it all.” Midoriya mumbles.

Bakugou tightens his hug. “And, since then, life’s been a total bitch to you. I fucking wish you didn’t get half the crap you have to deal with, because it runs you into a damn mess.”

“But, I—”

“So, just focus on the important shit, right now.” Bakugou breathes out, pressing his head against Midoriya’s. “Us? We can wait. No, I can wait. I’ll be right beside you, until then, and even after that.”

Lifting his arms up and around Bakugou’s back, Midoriya holds onto him, just as tight as him. “..You promise?”

Bakugou exhales a short sigh. “I promise, Izuku. We’ll be okay.”

Letting go, Midoriya gently pushes away from Bakugou’s grip, causing them to finally part, for who knows how long.

Before the secondhand embarrassment of people witnessing them sinks into his pride, Bakugou’s redirected to the watery eyes of Midoriya, as he quickly blinks them dry.

“God, when did you get so—?” Midoriya wildly moves his hands around, gesturing over at Bakugou.

On the other hand, Bakugou scrunches his nose. “The hell does that mean?”

“So supportive?” Immediately, Midoriya shakes his head. “No, you’ve been supportive, that’s not the right word. So kind? Uh, that doesn’t sound right..”

“You mean romantic.” Bakugou puts it bluntly.

A rush of red floods Midoriya’s face, matching his sweater and shoes. “Don’t say it so loud, Kacchan!”

“I wouldn’t have to, if you weren’t asking dumb ass questions!” Bakugou yells back, crossing his arms definitively. “We’re together, Deku! Of course I’m gonna tell you fucking sappy shit.”

“Shh! You are making us be a public scene!”

“Too late! We were a public scene the fucking moment we stopped in front of the damn metro like stupid lovers at the altar!”

It starts slow, with nothing, but Midoriya blinking up at him.

But then, a slipped sputter starts and a bubbling laughter erupts from Midoriya. He grabs onto Bakugou’s arm, helping him from not bending over in giggles.

“W-We really did!” Midoriya barely says, wheezing, “Lovers at an altar. A-And, you literally gave me vows!”

It takes Bakugou forcibly grabbing his idiotic, cackling boyfriend to finally move aside, and walk through the station’s entrance. He refuses to focus too much on the fire heating his face.

He’s never making outlandish, romantic gestures in public, ever again.

They missed their train, obvious from the lengthy moment they had outside. But, neither of them were upset about the ordeal. Instead, they gradly bought tickets for the next train to Tokyo, with only a thirty minute wait.

As Bakugou starts to shift comfortably in his bench seat, right beside him, Midoriya rests his head on top of his shoulder. “Thankfully, we still won’t miss the movie premiere.”

“Because your weird ass is making us leave hours before midnight.”

“For situations like these!”

Bakugou scoffs a short laugh. “I guess it’s reasonable.”

Grabbing his hand into a loose grip, Midoriya twiddles with Bakugou’s fingers once more. “Thank you. For tonight.” Midoriya whispers.

“You needed time to chill the fuck out. With the shit you’ve been facing, let tonight be the night you forget about it.” Bakugou grumbles, “Besides, I haven’t been able to steal you away, for my damn self.” He tacks on.

Midoriya smiles back at him, head comfortably slumped on his shoulder. “You make me feel alive, again. And, for the first time ever, since the start of this year,” He sighs, longingly up at Bakugou, “I feel like I can breathe.”

Bakugou brings him closer, chin tucked in his curls. “Good. I need you to breathe, at least once and a fucking while.”

Midoriya snorts. “Just at least once?”

“And, a fucking while.” Bakugou reiterates, “I’m not a monster.”

“No, you’re not.” Midoriya chuckles, bringing his legs over Bakugou’s lap. “You’re my monstrous boyfriend.”

“That’s fucking right.”

For a while, they stay just like that; close, intimate, and stuck together, without a care of the outside world. Maybe it’s from the intense conversation from earlier, but Bakugou doesn’t feel deterred to back away. Instead, he feels comfortable in holding Midoriya, and not letting go.

“You know,” Midoriya starts, “My mom wouldn’t freak out.”

Bakugou raises a brow. “..Hm?”

“About us. She wouldn’t freak or flip out like that.”

“C’mon, Deku.” Bakugou scoffs, shaking his head. “You don’t gotta lie to me, now.”

“I’m serious.” Midoriya reaffirms strongly, emphasizing his words with a tightened grasp around his hand. “She wouldn’t.”

“I’m not the type of guy you bring to your damn family. Seeing me as anyone’s partner is like fucking failing at life.”

Midoriya brings a tentative hand, cupping the side of Bakugou’s face. His fingertips are rough, yet linger there softly. “Just promise her you’ll make me happy and keep me safe.” Midoriya states easily, smiling brightly. “And, she’ll welcome you with open arms, all over again.”

#star responds #okay sooo idk which writing prompt this was for?? BUT I STILL THOUGHT THIS WAS CUTE #bkdk third years. bkdk established relationship. bkdk and inko #maaaan i literally let my fluff/hurt heart have it #i hope this is the time of soft bkdk you want !!#ayae-02 #bakudeku #FICLET

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yumeyooa · 3 years

Text

under the full moon | k.nj

—in which only the moon is a witness to the forbidden love you and namjoon share

➢ pairing: kim namjoon x gender neutral! reader

➢ word count: 2.8k+

➢ warnings: use of they/them pronouns | discrimination | mentions of blood

➢ love letter: i FORGOT i had this in my drafts BHSWBJDHD but anyways enjoy this self indulgent namjoon fic i made weeks ago when i was binging white blood <33

navigation

The full moon was ablaze tonight, high up in the dark sky, looming over the vast land as if it were waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Its light shone down eerily on the earth, and any sane person would know that being out this late at night would only get themselves killed.

It was the night where the supernatural creatures that hid amongst the dark came out to play, after all.

With the moonlight feeding their magical energy, the night where it shone brightest was always a day they looked forward to. A day, where for once in their lives, they could relive those moments before humanity became a threat to their existence. Where they could roam around like the proud, majestic beings they once were or at least are.

Except in these times, freedom was very much far from reality.

The council of wolves was bustling with energy that same night, gathered in a club owned by the Kim Pack. On the night of the full moon, where their power was incredibly potent, they could only gather together, waiting for the perfect moment to attack or defend themselves from the vampires.

Ah yes, the very reason why the supernatural realm was abuzz and chaotic. After the surprising death of the vampire king, they had appointed a new leader. Frankly, no one aside from the vampires themselves understood their succession process. From what they could gather, though, it was a gruesome and rigorous battle where only the most powerful can claim the throne.

Yet, the new monarch of the vampires was in all ways unpredictable, holding no care for the centuries-old treaties that were in place to maintain the peace within the supernatural order. Instead, they did whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, causing copious amounts of stress for the other tribes and species.

And that new monarch was you, (L/N) (Y/N), the tyrant.

"Alpha," A voice calls, snapping Namjoon, who had been thinking to himself this entire time, out of his trance. The said wolf looks up, only to come face to face with his best friend and right-hand man since time eternal, a beta from his pack, Seokjin. "The packs are getting restless. The vampires have gone too far. We need to do something about it."

"Indeed!" A voice exclaims, shooting up from his seat while he viciously snarls. Jungkook, Namjoon thinks to himself. Soon to be the alpha of the Jeon Pack. "Those damned wenches have done enough! They've already stolen our food supply and trespassed our territory on multiple occasions. We cannot let this pass by. We must act now!"

Choruses of agreement echo throughout the hall as Namjoon rubs his temples in frustration, the noise ringing in his ears. But just before he could get his disappointment across, the door opens, and Yoongi, a rogue and Namjoon's most trusted spy from the ancient pack of Min, storms in, bruised and panicked.

"The vampires have attacked the borders," he says, panting as he leans on Hoseok, his best friend. "There were no casualties, but multiple packs have been robbed." Gasps echo throughout the room, and all the more do the council of wolves cause an uproar, demanding their alpha to go to war.

"We shouldn't be accepting this treachery! It is a shame to our kind!"

"We must fight back, show those vampires what we wolves are capable of."

"How long must our kind suffer before we finally take action, alpha? When will enough be en—"

"Enough!" Namjoon exclaims, using his inner voice to silence the room. He stands up, towering over the dozens of wolves inside with him, who back down at his presence, overwhelmed.

"I shall handle this, myself," is all he says as he makes his way to the entrance, much to the surprise and shock of everyone in the room. "What?" Seokjin exclaims, eyes wide in shock. "Namjoon, are you serious right now? It's too reckless to go there all alone. What if something happens to you?" Shortly after, small echoes of protest begin to circulate, each member presenting their concerns for the alpha.

But it only takes one harsh look from him for them to settle back down, looking at anywhere they possibly could but his eyes. He was the alpha of all alphas, after all. He wasn't someone to be easily overpowered.

"Do not make me repeat myself," he says, stern, eyes glaring into the souls of the other wolves in the room. "I will handle it. Do I make myself clear?"

No one goes against him this time, watching with worried eyes as he takes his leave, heading straight to the vampire lair, where you lay, waiting.

When he arrived at vampire territory, however, without a doubt, Namjoon was met with hostility. Dozens, no, maybe even hundreds of vampires bared their fangs at him, ready to attack and rip him to shreds.

The anger and hatred they held for his kind reflected in their blood-red eyes, staring at his every move the more he headed deeper into their territory. It was expected, of course. If any unwanted species were to enter his territory as if they owned the place, he would be angry as well.

But unbeknownst to the vampires that sneered and glared at him and his fellow packmates back at home who trusted him to annihilate said vampires, he had other plans in mind.

A vampire approached him, clad in a suit that resembled those of the olden times as if time had barely passed for the man. He looked at him with disdain yet chose not to say anything about it.

"The monarch wishes to see you," is all he says, turning to let Namjoon follow him. "I suggest you… transform if you wish to keep up." The way he refers to him with such spite and anger makes Namjoon want to tear his limbs apart one by one, but that would be too reckless on his part, especially as the head alpha, no matter how much his inner voice was telling him that his packmates would absolutely love to see him go berserk, especially when his rage was to be directed at those despicable blood-suckers.

It was a good thing Namjoon's rationality was more substantial than his instincts.

The moment Namjoon transformed, the man who had been talking to him immediately led the way, running in inhuman speed to which Namjoon, based on instinct alone, followed suit, surprisingly keeping up with the speedy vampire. The man scoffed at that, appalled at the thought that a mere werewolf could keep up with him.

But Namjoon was no ordinary werewolf. He was the alpha. And there was only one person who could genuinely stand at par with him.

"Your majesty," the vampire says, knocking at the door. "The werewolf has arrived."

Namjoon wants to growl at the hostility in the vampire's voice. The burning desire that flowed through his veins made him want to teach that low life a lesson for insulting him, but he thought better with it. It would only cause complications, after all.

"Let him in," a voice calls, enchanting and majestic, immediately bringing Namjoon out of his trance of rage. "Alone."

"P-pardon?" The vampire exclaims, surprised at his master's command. "Y-your majesty, it is inadvisable to be alone with a lowly werewo—"

"—Seungri." The monarch says voice laced with malice, even to the point of sending shivers down Namjoon's skin. "Do not make me repeat myself."

The silence that follows is deafening as Namjoon takes in the defeated look on the vampire's face, inwardly smirking to himself. Serves him right for treating him as an inferior when he was in all ways superior to him.

He gives the said vampire a smug look, while in turn the other glares at him, before opening the door for him to enter, a warning in his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed to Namjoon, who merely brushes it off, stepping into the dark room, and hearing the door close behind him.

Finally, Namjoon thinks to himself, his shoulders relaxing almost immediately as he sighs.

Finally, he can breathe.

"Well, isn't someone getting all cozy over there?" A teasing voice calls out from the darkness, the moonlight illuminating their figure while their bloody red eyes shine in the dark.

They stand up, slowly walking towards him, and Namjoon can feel the anticipation within him rise the more they come closer. "You're finally here," they say, smiling at Namjoon, fingers placed on his chin as they stare admirably at his neck. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you, darling?"

At their words of endearment, Namjoon sighs in bliss, completely relaxing in the monarch's hold, nuzzling into their neck and taking in the comforting scent alluding from them.

"I apologize, my love," Namjoon says, finally showing his true colors, a happy and content smile on his face as his lover, you, leads him to the bed, allowing him to lay his head on your lap running your fingers through his hair. "You know how my kind is. Without me, they're practically a bunch of lost puppies."

Your soft laughter rings throughout the room, and Namjoon sighs once more, blissfully enjoying this moment of serenity with you. "Well, they better get their act together, or else I'll truly go down there and cause a ruckus."

"Haven't you already?" Namjoon pries, opening one eye to look at you. "Your kind's attacks have put mine on edge, you know?"

"Well, how else was I supposed to get you to come here?" You pout as if you were a child. "I can't just stroll into your territory without those clan members of yours attacking me with each step! At least my clan has some self-restraint!"

Namjoon chuckles, admiring the seemingly innocent look on your face, lips in a pout, as your eyes squinted at him childishly. If any of his clan members were to find out that he, the head alpha, had fallen for the ruler of their enemy, they would throw a fit; probably cause a rebellion.

But frankly, at the moment, Namjoon didn't care because with the way you were acting so comfortable around him and the way he felt like being with you was a breath of fresh air, nothing else mattered.

"Well," Namjoon admits, smiling softly, "I suppose you have a point. But still," he says, looking up at you with a faux stern gaze. "Did you really have to rob my people?"

Flustered, you look away, not knowing what to say. "W-well, I couldn't just hurt them, so I figured making them steal was the better… Was I wrong?"

"Well, morally, I suppose you were," Namjoon says, taking your hand into his. "You could have looked for a better reason to get us together…."

There's a distraught expression on your face at the sound of his faux disappointment, and Namjoon smiles at how precious it is, knowing that you wouldn't show it to anyone else but him. Your reputation and image as a tyrant was important after all.

He remembers the day he first met you, long ago, back when you were still fighting for the throne. He had been on patrol that night when usually he wasn't. Clan leaders weren't supposed to go on patrol, but as if he were lured by fate, he had decided to go out that night. Partly to satiate the growing instinct burning within him and get away from the tedious work Seokjin had prepared for him prior.

It was then that he discovered you, dreadfully injured after a fight with the eldest son of another family. As per tradition, all twelve of the eldest children of each vampire family would compete in a battle to the death against each other. The winner would take the throne. It was a bloody, brutal development that had Namjoon appalled when he found out.

Especially after seeing your sorry state, wounded and bruised, hanging on the edge of life and death, Namjoon was terrified, to say the least.

Sure, the growing conflict between the vampires and werewolves had clouded his judgment on certain occasions, but how could he leave someone who was literally about to die in his territory alone? It would go against everything he ever stood for. And Kim Namjoon was anything but a hypocrite.

When you came to, you were, without a doubt, wary of him. Who wouldn't be? You were enemies by nature, and based on your current disposition, you were at a disadvantage should a fight break out. It made sense for you to keep your guard up.

But Namjoon approached you with all the kindness and compassion he could muster, cleaning up your wounds even though your regenerative abilities would take care of them as time passed by, feeding you with the meals his mother used to whip up for him whenever he got into a brawl with another alpha.

As the two of you spent more time together, you gradually got closer. Namjoon was able to find out that you were a late bloomer, a vampire who, despite being of age, hadn't awakened their true powers and abilities. Thus, you were an immediate target for the other candidates for the throne and had fallen victim to a vicious attack led by none other than the man you called your best friend.

A heartbreaking and infuriating betrayal, if Namjoon were to say so himself.

In turn, you had found out that Namjoon, the proclaimed head-alpha once the previous passed away, had been carrying the burden of the pack for as long as he remembered. Unlike vampires, werewolves chose their head alpha based on a ritual, honoring the full moon. The moon had chosen Namjoon that night, and while he knew that it brought great honor to his family, he was pressured to no end, knowing that the expectations for his rule were high.

Frankly, if he had a choice, he would refuse. But as both of you were to realize, you were in no position to refuse the chains that tradition had set to bind you from your freedom.

Cruel, truly.

But fate was a mysterious thing that worked in enigmatic ways. It wove the chains that tied the two of you down together, bringing two enemies meant to battle each other to the death and showing them that sometimes the answers they so desperately longed for could be found in the most unusual of places; cradled deep within the arms of forbidden love.

"However," Namjoon continues, breaking from his train of thought as he caresses your face in the palm of his hand, smiling softly at the sight of you leaning in, stroking his own hand with yours lovingly. "As your lover who so desperately wished to see you as well, I suppose I can let it slide…."

It's funny to Namjoon how much you act like a child behind closed doors, but that was who you were. An innocent child forced to act like a tyrant to stay alive. But if it was for the sake of your survival, then anything goes. Namjoon had taught you how to fight back, had taught you how to rule, even if he himself disagreed with how you did it. And he cared too much about you for you to fall victim to the brutal battle of succession.

"Of course!" You say, giddy with excitement. "You simply cannot refuse me, my love!" There's a cheeky tone in your voice as Namjoon sits up and pins you down to the bed, circling his arms around your waist and laying his head on your chest, sighing in bliss as you ran your fingers through his hair once more.

"I suppose that is the truth," Namjoon says, nuzzling deep into you. "You are simply too irresistible, darling. But don't think I'm going to let the robbery slide. You must return what you stole."

Even with his closed eyes, Namjoon can already see the way the loveable pout overcomes your lips and presses a kiss to your collarbone in response. "As you wish," you sigh, bringing him tighter into your embrace.

The night continues, with the two of you basking in each other's presence, cherishing the little moments you have together. It was frightful to think that your love had to be hidden when all the two of you wanted was to show it freely, but alas, the world was too cruel to be kind to lovers of enemy races.

For now, all the two of you could do was continue the act of hating each other till the day you died, all the while falling in love under the watchful eye of the full moon, who would one day open the doors for your devotion to fly free, shining just as bright as it did once before.

#bts x reader #bangtan x reader #rm x reader #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #bts rm x reader

19 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

93. I hire your matchmaking services but all the people you set me up with are horrible and I’m demanding a refund and you’re asking me for one more chance??? what are you going to do? be my date?

Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I was inspired by @kriskukko's incredible art for the orc designs in this, and I highly recommend checking them out!

“Indrid? Some from Kepler House is here to speak with you.” Ned pokes his head into Indrid’s rooms.

“Drat” Indrid hisses, dressing gown whipping about him as he scrambles to put the apartment in order while also dragging his notes on the man in question to the forefront, “I didn’t forsee anyone coming by today, goodness, he had his first engagement with Lady Austens daughter last night, what on earth could they need to see me for?” He tosses his spare pens aside, landing them in his second set of house slippers.

“Well, dear boy, given the luck you’ve had with them lately-”

“It’s not luck, it’s simply very unlikely futures. Please just, just stall whoever it is a moment, Leo is usually patient and-”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that my friend.”

“Why not? I watched you once talk an entire flock of constables away from your door. Praytell, why can Ned “Silver Tongue” Chicane not get rid of a single attendant?”

“Because the attendant ain’t here this time.”

Indrid slams the drawer of his desk, looking up as an orc in a deep brown suit steps into the room, tossing his hat onto the table. He’s shorter than Indrid and Ned (stout and strong, according to the notes Indrid received), wavy black hair streaked with grey at the front. One eye is blue, the other brown, and both regard the harried matchmaker with casual annoyance.

“Mr. Newton, I, ah, I was not expecting you to visit me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be on a date where she found me so damn dull she hailed a cab as soon as dinner was done. I was already in town on some business for Minerva, so I decided to come tell you I ain’t in need of your services anymore.”

“I beg your pardon? Your benefactor employed me to find you a suitable match and I intend to do just that. I know there have been missteps, but such things are to be expected when searching for one’s lifelong partner.”

“Uh huh. And the fact I’m Lady Minerva’s chosen heir, which means there are a bunch of folks waitin to mimic my style and choices, has got nothin to do with it.”

“I, ah, I can’t say that I’m ignorant of the potential repercussions of being the one assigned to locate a spouse for you.”

“Which is the long way of sayin you know damn well that if I decide to stop askin you for help, no one with money is ever gonna come to you again.”

There’s a determined set to his rounded jaw, and a glimpse at the future suggests Indrid will have better luck with a different tactic

“....were they really so awful?”

“Yes. They were rude, or thought I was rude, or thought I was dull, or we just had fuck-all in common.”

“Have you considered you might just be a tad more demanding than average?”

“It ain’t demandin to want the person I spend the rest of my life with to actually like me.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cold, but unless you got a real winner up your sleeve, I’m done.”

All responses, all timelines show Duck ending his time as Indrid’s client and walking out the door.

“You could try me!”

“Really?” Duck looks deeply unconvinced.

“I will admit it’s unorthodox, but I, I foresee us having a perfectly nice time together. It will let me prove that I am capable of choosing companions for you.”

The shorter orc looks him up and down more deliberately and Indrid fights not to draw his dressing gown tighter. He will not be intimidated by some newcomer from across the sea.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I got to go to this concert tomorrow; someone from Kepler house is expected to show and Minerva is busy. You’re comin with me.” He holds Indrid’s gaze, daring him to renege on his offer.

Indrid summons his best, professional grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

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

Indrid smooths his waistcoat and jacket as he steps from the cab, tucks a strand of his silver hair behind his ear. It’s his only concession to the nerves skittering up and down his spine.

Gatherings such as these are nothing new to him; he goes to them to gather new information and new clients, to remind the well-to-do families of London and beyond that he is the matchmaker extraordinaire. But there is always the moment between when they see him and when they recognize him, when every face in the room wonders why someone like him dares to enter their space.

Somewhere in Indrid’s ancestry is a love story between an orc and a goblin. His silver hair, very angular features, and complete lack of tusks or fangs is the proof. The red eyes don’t help--they unsettle everyone who sees them--but his mother insists they’re evidence of other orcs gifted with rare magic on her side of the family. He wears red spectacles over them just to be safe; he rather likes how the color stands out against his skin, and his glasses let him avoid prying questions.

Duck is waiting for him under the awning outside the music hall; he’s in a grey day suit this time, looking just as understatedly handsome as he did yesterday morning. Indrid must admit his desire to save his reputation is not the only reason he agreed to this; he cannot understand why Duck is having such trouble meeting his match. He’s good looking, moneyed, American--an exotic background in the eyes of the average, sheltered upper-class orc--but still has family history here in England. All Indrid’s matches showed a high probability of success. The point of failure must lie with the orc himself.

“Afternoon, Mr. Cold.” Duck smiles with everything but his eyes.

“Indrid is fine, given the reason for our meeting.”

Duck nods. Indrid wishes the ground would swallow one of them up. When the pavement fails to oblige, he offers his arm. The shorter orc takes it, both of them doffing their hats as they step inside.

“I, uh, like the earring.” Duck indicates the moth cuff on Indrid’s left ear, a stark contrast to the single gold hoop in his own.

“Thank you. A friend gave it to me. I, ah, I rather enjoy working moths into my wardrobe; I find them fascinating.”

“Y’know, back home we got moths that look like hummingbirds.”

“Really?” Indrid’s ear twitches, “how big?”

Duck holds up his hands to indicate the size. Indrid is about to demand details when they’re waylaid by their hostess and pulled into a cluster of families. Indrid breathes deep, feeling crowded in, and notices Duck routinely being cut off in conversation or given disapproving looks behind his back. Yes, Indrid supposes his manners are a bit rough, but there’s no harm in that. Too, everyone seems far more interested in the goings on at Kepler House and with Lady Minerva than with Duck himself. By the time they’re seated, their arms feel locked together from shared tension.

The violinists are quite good; Indrid enjoys strings, his recordings of them being his favorite music to listen to while drawing. But his mind is so consumed by futures and by thoughts about the orc beside him that he struggles to focus on the music. Duck is having a similar issue, though he hides it well; were they not side by side, Indrid would miss the way he fidgets with the knee of his trousers.

“Are you alright?” He whispers under the applause.

“N-ye-uh. Fuck. I, the musics real nice but I gotta say I’m gettin kinda bored. But I got no fuckin clue if leavin will piss everyone here off.”

“Intermission is soon. When it comes, keep quiet and follow my lead.”

When the guests rise to stretch their legs and fetch refreshments, Indrid guides Duck to their hostess.

“I’m so very sorry, but I’m afraid my stomach is rather angry with me and it’s best if I go home. Duck has agreed to accompany me so I do not pass out in the street. I’m sure you understand.”

She nods, and in a matter of moments they’re out on the street, each breathing deeply.

“Thanks for that.”

“My pleasure.”

“Guess I oughta just head back to the hotel.” Duck sighs.

“You could. But, ah, we’re not far from Kew Gardens and the weather isn’t miserably cold for once. If you’d like-”

“Hell yeah. Wait, fuck, sorry, tryin to swear less in public.”

“I don’t really mind.” Indrid starts them down the street.

“Lots of them do” Duck tips his head back towards the concert hall, “I mean, at least that rule is easier to figure out. It’s not that there aren’t weird rules and class stuff back home, but I grew up learnin them. Here I always feel like I’m one move away from makin an ass of myself. No one’ll say anything because of Minerva, but I know if it weren’t for her, none of ‘em would give me the time of day. It makes every interaction so goddamn stressful.”

Indrid twinges with sympathy, “When I first started in these circles, I wrote myself notecards and had Ned test me on them.”

Duck giggles, so absurd and loud it draws stares from passersby, “why? You seem to know your stuff.”

“I didn’t come from money, and I don’t always read social situations the way others expect. It was learn or live as a penniless artist for all my days.” As the gardens come into view he adds, “I know the basics of your life in America but if you weren’t here, what would you be doing there?”

“Workin in the Yosemite valley. I was a ranger there for a few years before Minerva called me here.”

“What was that like?”

Duck tells him as they wander the first stretches of the gardens. He’s midway through a tangent about bears when he stops.

“Holy fuck, you’re really still listenin.”

“Of course I am, this is fascinating.”

His companion smiles, “Glad you think so. But it ain’t polite for me to dominate the conversation like this. Now you gotta tell me what you do when you’re not gettin fancy folks together.”

“...You promise you will finish the story about the bear and the tent later.”

“You know it.”

Indrid knows that time passes more quickly with good company, but he’s still startled when the sun sets. The Savoy, where Duck is staying, is closer than his home, so their cab stops there first.

Duck pauses halfway out the door, “Meet me here for dinner tomorrow?”

Indrid grins, “I’d like nothing more.”

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

“I didn’t know the line even went this far.” Indrid watches the moors race by them out the window of the train.

“You and me both.” Duck rotates his map, glances at the letter he received a week ago, “okay, once we get off at Amnesty, we need someone to take us down Greenbank road. The house is at the end of it, somewhere around here.” He taps a patch of moor miles from anything else. Indrid studies his fingers and is glad that, of his more rugged habits, one he elected to keep was letting his nails stay claws rather than filing them down.

“My visions suggest that as long as we don’t ask anyone to drive us out after dark, we should have no trouble reaching it.”

Indrid tries not to be too giddy at the prospect of spending weeks and weeks more or less alone in the countryside with Duck. They’re going because an anonymous note informed him that he did indeed have a family estate and--once they determined that the house near Dartmoor did indeed legally belong to him--it was decided he would go to see how the old place was doing and perhaps take up residence.

He asked Indrid to come without even glancing up from the telegram from the solicitor. Indrid agreed without looking away from his drawing. If two months of semi-courtship in a crowded city got them close enough for that, Indrid dares to hope that being out here together will bring them closer still.

Amnesty is small, as they both expected, the air chilly and fog threatening to swallow whole buildings as they make their way to the Lodge where they’ve been told they can find a driver. When Duck asks the young woman working the counter for help getting to Greenbank Hall, she quirks her lips in a frown.

“I’m not sure there’s even a place called that around here….OH! Do you mean Beacon House?”

“Maybe?” Duck looks at Indrid, who quickly looks at the futures.

“Yes, it seems we do.”

“Okay. Since it's still light, I should be able to find someone to get you out there. If it comes down to it, I can, like, drive you out myself.”

They end up being driven by a friendly young man named Jake, who deposits them and their bags on the steps of the massive house with a friendly wave farewell.

“Agh” Indrid shivers as they step through the newly unlocked doors, “I think it’s actually warmer outside.”

“No kiddin. Damn fog means it’s already gettin too dark to see too. I’ll go get some kind of fire started, you see if you can find some lanterns or candles so we ain’t trippin all over ourselves.”

Indrid begins his search, comes to the kitchen and finds some matches and a candle. The solicitor arranged for food and other supplies to be brought in ahead of time, so in theory lanterns should be somewhere nearby. He’s just glad that the paltry light shows no signs of rodents getting into their food.

When he gets upstairs, he discovers two things; one, all the lamps are gas, so he’s able to light them easily. And two, a mother tortoiseshell cat is nesting with her kittens on a guest bed.

“Well, that explains the lack of mice.”

Footsteps behind him, “Got a fire goin in the sittin room, if you wanna pick a room for yourself I can light one th--awwwww” Duck moves past him towards the cat, who hisses at him, “now, there ain’t any need for that, missy. I ain’t gonna hurt you or your babies. But we oughta bring you somethin more’n mice to eat.”

“I saw some tinned food in the pantry.”

“Perfect, lemme go find a bowl.”

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

Beacon House has seen better days, but Indrid discovers the houses loss is his gain. Duck decides they can do many of the repairs themselves, and sets about ordering supplies from London or bringing them in from Amnesty. The few times they need help, the cook and several others from the Lodge come to assist in the project. These gatherings are far more pleasant than any Indrid had to attend for work (well, except for the ones where he was with Duck). And they always end before dusk.

Indrid occupies himself with figuring out why. There was no mention of this house when he first researched Duck, and even using the local name turns up very little. It’s not until he finds a diary belonging to one H. Newton in the library that he understands.

October the 15th, 1805

I fear the worst is upon me. I cannot leave the house, dare not even peer out the windows for fear of what I shall see. Lucy says it is my health, that we should travel to warmer regions so it will improve. But I know it is not so simple. Were we to flee, it would merely wait for our return. It may even waylay us before we reached town. I am cursed. We are cursed. We always will be.

Beneath the words is a hastily sketched image; yellow eyes and sharp fangs peering from between the bars of the front gate.

There are no more entries.

Indrid is unsure whether to raise the matter with Duck. On the one hand, he wishes him to know of any possible dangers. On the other, his friend is so very content these days, coming in from some project or other with grime on his skin and a smile on his face. Indrid’s own desire to stay with him here, in a house he can pretend is theirs, threatens to drown out all other reasons.

Eventually, his conscience shouts it down while he and Duck are on their evening walk.

“Oh yeah, Barclay told me about that a few days ago. Some ghost apparently wanders around the moor at night; got somethin to do with a murderous ancestor.”

“That does not alarm you.”

“You know I don’t believe in curses and destiny or anythin like that. People make up all kinds of stories when they’re alone in wild places.”

Indrid’s foresight guides his arm, gripping Duck and keeping him from moving forward.

“Does that look like a story?”

Directly ahead of them, a tor rises like a spike. Atop it, revealed by the rising moon, is a gigantic, fur-covered shape.

“See” Duck whispers, “were we back home, I’d say that was a bear.”

“And now?”

“Given there ain’t been bears in this part of the world in decades, I say we get the hell outta here.”

They take off back down the slope, the hall a collection of yellow squares of light in the darkening distance. A howl splits the air behind them and Indrid quickens his pace, keeps his eyes on the future in hopes of protecting them both.

This means he doesn’t see the burrow in the path until his ankle goes sideways in it.

“‘Drid!”

“Under no circumstances are you to try and help meAH!” He yelps as Duck swings him over his shoulder and continues his flight towards the house. As he’s bounced about, Indrid watches a glowing shape bounding closer.

“Thank fuck.” Duck crosses the gate, slams them closed, and lowers Indrid to his feet. Nothing glares at them from the path. But a growl creeps from the shadows and follows them until they shut the door.

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

“How’s the ankle?” Duck drops his coat on the chair opposite Indrid before tending to the fire.

“Better than yesterday. I should be up and moving tomorrow, if the futures are to be believed.”

“You know you don’t gotta rush. I’m happy to take care of you.”

Indrid picks at the ends of the blanket in his lap, “but I miss being able to aid you with work.”

“There’ll be lots of time for that. We got plenty to do to get the house to where we can live in it full time.”

“We?”

Duck goes completely still, then fails to put the fire poker back in place three separate times. When he finally meets Indrid’s eyes, he looks worried.

“‘Drid? What’s your endgame? With, uh, with me?”

“I…” Indrid grabs his teacup, intending to drink it to buy time and finds it empty, ‘I...I don’t know. I, I wanted to prove to you that I could find you a companion who made you happy, hoping you would give me another chance to locate your perfect match. But lately I, ah, I struggle to see that plan working. As I do not wish you to have any match but me.”

Duck moves across the rug, shadows on his face making it hard to read.

“I know that shows great selfishness on my part. If that is not something you wish to have in your life I, I…” he shrinks back as Duck leans down, certain this is the timeline where he accuses him of being a conniving monster.

“Funny you should say you’re bein selfish” Duck braces his arms on either side of the chair, “because I’ve been beatin myself thinkin’ I was selfish for keepin you out here so long.”

“Keep me here forever.” Indrid whispers. Duck smiles, closes the remaining space between them. His lips are still a bit chilly from working outside; Indrid does everything he can to warm them with his own.

The shorter orc straddles him and he whines so needily that Duck snickers in reply.

“What’s wrong darlin? Kissin too much for you?’

“On the contrary; it is far too little, but my injury means my ability to drag you to my bed and beg for more is greatly impeded.”

“Good thing we live alone.” Duck pulls the blanket from Indrid’s lap, nibbles his ear as the seer catches on and begins frantically undoing the buttons of Duck’s workshirt and shoving his suspenders. When at last he pushes it open he loses himself a moment, tipping forward to tongue at the golden ring in Duck’s left nipple.

“AHheh, gettin right to it. Good” Duck unbuttons his pants, “because I’ve been wantin to fuck you since before we even came out here.”

“Oh I see” Indrid purrs, “you lured me into the countryside to sully my virtue.”

Duck laughs, full throated, as his tusks catch in the firelight, “You forgettin the time we got drunk instead of goin to the opera and you told me you convinced two sailors to take you home?”

“Only if you’ve forgotten telling me about the young ranch-hand you gave several rides to” Indrid nibbles along his neck, his twitching oddly in their quest to grind against him without jostling his ankle.

“Not a chance. But I don’t care about reminiscin right now; right now, I got the best lookin fella in the world beggin for my dick.”

“I’m not begging.” Indrid tilts his head back to help Duck get his shirt open some.

“Not yet.” Duck grins, then shoves his hand down his trousers.

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid reaches for him.

“Keep your hands on the armrests until I say you can move ‘em.”

“But, but” it’s hard to argue when he’s trying to stare a hole through Duck’s remaining clothes. His partner notices and makes a show of moaning louder.

“Only good boys get to watch the show. You gonna be good for me?”

“The best.”

Duck kisses the tip of his nose, then wiggles and kicks his pants and underwear off. Indrid can only watch, growing more envious by the moment, as he fucks himself open and rubs a thumb along his cock. Indrid tries bucking his hips, only to discover Duck is keeping himself out of reach.

“Cruel creature.” Indrid groans.

“Cruel? I’m giving you a seat to the best show in town.”

“I’d rather you take the best seat in town.”

Duck laughs, is still doing so when he bends to kiss him. Indrid whimpers, nails digging into the upholstery to keep his promise of good behavior. Duck notices.

“Good boy.”

“AHHHnnnthankyou, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Indrid moans as Duck drops his weight into his lap, grinding on his clothed cock with abandon. He flings Indrids hands up to his shoulders. The seer glides them up to his hair, burying them there where he’s now certain they’ve always belonged. Duck mirrors him, lips only leaving his to bite the tip of his ear.

“Fuck, Indrid, that’s it darlin, lemme ride you like the sleek little beast you are.”

He whines, loses his thoughts as Ducks hips quicken.

“I know ‘Drid, you like bein mine, like that I’ll bounce on this fuckin perfect dick as often as you want as long as you’re my good, sweet, ohsweetfuck, fuck, darlin’” Duck drops his forehead to Indrid’s shoulder with a groan as he cums, soaking the fabric of his pants. Before Indrid can think about stopping, Duck picks up again with as much force as before, growling in his ear to be a good little social climber and cum for his lord.

Indrid cums at that with a chirping sound he thought he’d stopped making long ago, legs spasming from the force of his climax. Unfortunately, this means his pleasure is chased by a burst of pain. He whimpers, flinches, and Duck spots the problem.

“Oh, oh darlin I’m sorry” He drops to the floor, rubbing Indrid’s thighs, “thought the position would keep you from hurtin.”

“Apparently not. I, I want you to know I don’t regret it in the slightest.”

Duck smiles, relieved, and rests his head on Indrid’s stomach, “Guess you did find me a match, huh?”

Indrid bends slowly, nuzzling his hair with a hum, “Yes, I believe so.”

#indruck #meet ugy #indrid cold/ duck newton #orc au #victorian au #trans duck newton

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lemoncherrypop · 3 years

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deatheater!seungcheol x gryffindorprincess!reader

notes: i just want to warn everyone ahead of time that this will be an incredibly long slow burn. i also want to apologize for bringing in OC characters because i know that not everyone is a big of OC characters. i’m not particularly fond of stories where the reader is surrounded by only men, and thought the story would flow better if the reader also had female friends. big thanks to my amazing beta @minigum you amazing woman you length: 6.2k

Series Masterlist

One | Two | Three | Four | coming soon...

Chapter Three

You didn’t get much sleep.

Waking up abruptly to the sound of Mingyu’s obnoxious knocks on your door, you blick away the last remaining images of a softly smiling Seokmin from your dismal dreams. There is an uneasiness dwelling in your stomach as you walk down the stairs to join the others for breakfast.

Steaming bowls of porridge were flying by in the air before settling down into their rightful spots on the dining table. Everyone except Minghao was already sitting, and Seungcheol dove right into his piping hot porridge the moment his bowl landed in front of him.

“Ouch— fuck!” He curses immediately, his hand reaching for his glass of water.

“You do this every fucking day,” Mingyu chides him. “Mate, I’m beginning to think you’re a bit of a masochist.”

“I’m just fucking hungry,” Seungcheol growls into his meal. “Leave me alone.”

Sneering, you take the empty seat next to Wonwoo as you silently think about how much he resembled a slobbering stray dog in a dirty alleyway.

“Morning everyone,” you say tiredly, turning only to Jean to give her a smile. Seungcheol is the only one who doesn’t acknowledge you. Rolling your eyes at your friend, Jean chuckles in response before going back to her conversation with Mingyu.

“Good morning,” Wonwoo greets you politely. “Coffee or tea?”

“I’ll take some tea. Got any earl grey?” You ask, watching your bowl land softly on the table.

Wonwoo flicks his wand, and a single tea bag floats itself over into an empty cup. “Milk? Sugar?” A whistling kettle pours hot water into the cup.

“Cream and sugar, thanks.” You lay your napkin on your lap. “I like my tea very sweet.”

He nods in response, waving his wand just a little bit more to add everything else in for you. Cream swirls in the dark water, slowly blending in to create a soft brown as your teacup settles gently in front of you. You take a small sip after thanking Wonwoo for your morning brew and peer into your bowl.

It was chicken porridge; simple and light, you could tell it only needed a bit of salt for seasoning. Stomach growling, you dig in with your spoon, blowing the surface heat off before taking your first bite.

“Get any good sleep?” Jean asks you from across the table.

“Not sure, I went to bed a bit late last night,” you confess. “I think I managed about four hours of sleep, but I had a strange dream so it felt a bit restless.”

“Oh?” She quirks a brow. “What was it about?”

Your forehead creases up in thought, but you quickly give up. “I don’t remember.”

Mingyu huffs. “Well, I don’t think any of us got a full night’s rest last night.”

“Ew— Christ, Mingyu.” Face bunching up in disgust, your eyes narrow back and forth between him and your friend. “No one cares what you did last night.”

“It’s nothing like what you're insinuating, idiot,” Mingyu says flatly. “We were all up late last night waiting for you two to arrive. Did you forget?”

“Oh.” Your lips seal shut. You look down at your bowl, not acknowledging your embarrassment.

“That finally shut you up,” Seungcheol grumbles into his bowl.

“Now, now,” Wonwoo raises a hand before you can even open your mouth. “We just started breakfast, for Salazar’s sake. Can we get through this morning without any thoughtless fights, please?”

The corners of your lips turn down, silently and begrudgingly heeding to Wonwoo’s words because he was the one who prepared your cup of tea. Turning back to your porridge, you dig into another spoonful.

“Minghao’s still sleeping?” You ask after a swallow.

“He stayed up quite late last night,” Wonwoo responds. “He might still be sleeping.”

Come to think of it, you did find Minghao still sitting in the common room after you walked back inside last night. He had been buried in some book and didn’t even bother to glance up at you, so you greeted him in the same manner and had walked right past him.

“Does he normally stay up that late?” You wonder out loud.

“Not every night. He only stays up when it’s time for—”

There is a clatter upstairs.

“Speak of the devil,” Seungcheol cuts off Mingyu, smiling slyly. Following Seungcheol’s look in the direction, you see Minghao descending the stairs with his hand in his hair. He was brushing his bangs with his fingers in an attempt to make them look tamer. It did not work.

“Mornin’ Hao,” Mingyu greets him cheerfully.

Minghao only grunts in response and stops at the bottom of the stairs. He looked up as if he was waiting for someone, and just a short moment later, a girl walked down the stairs.

With her short, pin-straight black hair brushed neatly behind her ears, you caught your eyes on Trinh, a Slytherin girl in the same year as the rest of you.

“Trinh? Why— why are you here?” you drop your spoon with a clatter. She had always been the more secluded student in your year, that even though she was a Slytherin, you have never seen her surrounded by many people, much less people like Minghao who always seemed to be surrounded by snakes equally as dumb as him. “Are you also—”

“She’s not.” Minghao slices in quickly, interrupting any and all thoughts of Trinh being a Death Eater.

“Easy now.” Trinh takes his hand, pulling him towards the dining table to join the others. “I’m hungry. Let’s start our breakfast, shall we?”

Minghao follows right behind her without another word, and your eyes narrow, zooming into their joined hands with scepticism.

“Forgot we got two extra people in the house now,” Minghao mutters, staring down and noticing how full every seat looked.

“No worries,” Trinh replies cooly and pointed her wand at a pile of wooden logs next to the fireplace in the common room. “Sellafors,” she says with a swish of her wand, and the two logs clattered as they transfigured themselves into a set of wooden chairs.

“I don’t get it then,” you continue, watching them both take a seat at the end of the table. “If you haven’t defected like them, why are you hiding?”

“I didn’t come here to hide. I came here to help.” Trinh answered. She waved her wand again to fix her own cup of tea. “I’m here to make sure the boys don’t kill themselves out of stupidity.”

Jean sniggers right into her cup of coffee and accidentally spills drops of hot liquid down her shirt.

“We would’ve been fine without you,” Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Trinh.”

“She says that, but she’s really here for Hao.” Wonwoo smiles coyly.

“So you are dating!” you gasp.

“What gave that away?” Minghao responds sarcastically.

“Color me surprised, snake.” Despite his tone, a smirk appears on your face. “Didn’t think anybody would have been up for dating your pretentious ass. With your piss ass attitude, you flaunt your snobby nose up higher than any other Slytherin I’ve seen.”

Minghao laughs, clearly unaffected by your insults. “It’s not my fault the peasants can’t understand luxury. I bet you can’t even tell the difference between the quality in robes from Twilfitt and Tatting’s and Madam Malkin’s.”

“Twilfitt and what?”

Seungcheol bursts into laughter at that. “You don’t even know what Twilfitt and Tattings is? I knew you wouldn’t be able to afford it, but gods are you really that poor?”

“I don’t see a point in spending all your golds in the finest of silks and velvet when you wear them around like the hunchback of Notre Dame!” Retorting back with a snarl, you throw your spoon into your bowl angrily.

“At least I didn’t engorgio an old cloak that I grew out of because I couldn’t afford to buy another one like some destitute bitch!”

“It’s called being thrifty, the fuck would you know anything about crafty, you underdeveloped bumblefuck—”

“Children, children—” Mingyu waves his hands down in a motion of wanting silence. “This is our first meal together as a family, so as much as I love to see the two of you rip each other's tongues out, I think we’d all appreciate having our porridge without any duels. Stress eating gives me indigestion.”

“But she—”

“Indigestion.” Mingyu reiterated, glowering at his friend. “You want to fight? Go ahead, but I’m warning you ahead of time that I will complain about my upset stomach exclusively just for you. Do you really want that, Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol sneers but gives no response. Mingyu smirks, the look of winning obnoxiously clear on his face. You thought it pathetic for him to feel so proud over getting Seungcheol to shut up, but silently admitted how impressive it was to get the babbling twat to stop.

Jean shifts her eyes to Trinh. “I didn’t realize you were so close with the boys,” she cracked a smile, effectively changing the subject back to her.

“I wasn’t,” Trinh answers back with a deep sigh. “But trust me when I say that I regret my decision every day. I’m in too deep now to escape.”

“How could you regret the best decision of your life?” Minghao grins, draping his arm around her shoulders. She frowns into her mug as he pulls her in closer for a quick peck on the cheek.

“You know, Trinh was the one who placed the portkeys for you guys,” Mingyu reveals. “She’s the one who sent Jean the message.”

“That was you?” Jean turns around to face Trinh. “Why would you do that for us?”

“I don’t think we’ve ever even spoken to each other.” You raise a brow.

Trinh levels her eyes on you. “I did it because you’re Mingyu’s friend, and a friend of his is a friend of mine.”

“It’s the Slytherin in us,” Minghao grins even wider, teeth fully bared. “We never leave our own behind.”

“You’re such a dunce, ugh. Get off me.” Trinh shrugs him off her shoulders. “At least we finally got more people around here. It was terrible being the only girl stuck in this house amongst savages like these boys.”

“Oof!” You place a hand on your chest dramatically. “You mean you’ve been holed up in this house with these nasty boys? How have you survived this long?”

“Lots and lots…” Trinh takes a long sip of her coffee. “And lots of firewhiskey.”

Seungcheol points his spoon accusatorily at her. “Speaking of,” he frowned deeply. “Keep your grubby hands off my drinks!”

“I’ll just pick up an extra bottle the next time I’m out,” Trinh shrugs him off easily.

Your eyes widen. “Wait— we can leave the house?”

“No! No, no—” Mingyu shuts you down quickly. “We haven’t left this house since we came in. You two—” he pointed at you and Jean, “Definitely shouldn’t be leaving, with your blood status and everything. Trinh is the only one who is safe enough to leave. She comes from a pureblood family, and she was never forced to become a Death Eater, so she didn’t have to run away from anything.”

Confusion drew on your face. “So— why are you really here?”

“I’m here to help them and to now also help you. I go out and bring back food and any supplies Seungcheol might need for potion making, but I mostly go out to do some lurking. I try to stay as updated as possible and see where we’re at in this war. Find out about the latest raids, kidnappings, murders and what not.”

“Which, by the way, have you heard of anything new?” Wonwoo asks.

Trinh looks glumly down at her food. “Nothing good to hear, as usual.”

“Well, what is it?”

“I heard another student got captured, I didn’t catch the name, but they were in Hufflepuff.”

Someone else gasps at the same time as you, and it was only Jean. Were the others used to hearing news like this?

“H-hufflepuff?” you stammered from shock. “Do you know which year?”

Trinh shakes her head, looking disappointed. “Sorry.”

An uncomfortable silence falls down on the table. Everyone seemed to have gone back to their meal quietly. There’s a quiet shuffling on your side, and Wonwoo wipes his lips gently with a napkin and pushes his mostly finished porridge away.

“Well, that really brought down the mood.” Seungcheol breaks the quietness, dropping his spoon into his empty bowl with a loud clatter.

“That’s what I’m here for,” Trinh jokes lightly.

Another silence followed. Wonwoo was clearly distraught over the news, and your own gut was turning uncomfortably inside because you wondered if it had anything to do with Seokmin. You had already worried yourself to sleep last night thinking about his father being locked up in some Death Eater’s dungeons. You forced a huge gulp of hot tea, trying to distract your thoughts as the liquid burned on its way down your throat.

“The view here is incredible though,” Jean pipes in, and you knew she was only speaking up in a gentle attempt to change the subject again to a more pleasant topic. “I could almost see the farmlands over those hills.”

“The windows are both a blessing and a curse.” Mingyu’s cheeks were somehow still stuffed with food. “The view may be lovely, but we can see everything.”

“Couldn’t find a house with some actual walls?” You snort, shaking your head at how ridiculous the front of the cottage looked.

“Sorry, we couldn’t be more accommodating, Princess.” Seungcheol drawls. “You think the market for illegal safehouses against the Dark Lord is booming right now?”

“I’m just joking, my Godric, can’t say fucking shit without you taking a piss.” Jeering at him, you cross your arms and lean back into your chair. “It’s just this wall, it’s so— it’s very—”

“Unnerving, isn’t it?” Wonwoo finishes your sentence for you. “Once in a while, I’ll see a muggle pass by. They all seem like lost travellers, but even though they’re a good distance away, I can always spot them very easily.”

“People pass by often?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve only seen two muggles so far. The nearest town is over fifty kilometres away, so we’re completely isolated from society. I don’t worry about people noticing us too often.”

“It’s incredible at night though,” Seungcheol adds in with a tone of spitefulness, and everyone turns to look at him. “It’s just emptiness out there. A dark, black void into nothing.”

Turning towards the glass wall, you squint your eyes through the glare of the sun seeping into the common room and find the rolling meadows of the field. Will the peace of this land fade away when the sun sinks into the earth?

Seungcheol takes a big gulp of his coffee and breaks into a wide smile. “Imagine seeing a Death Eater coming out of the darkness and walking straight towards our home.”

Mingyu groans loudly. “Oh, you absolute fuckhead. That shits not funny.”

Dropping your spoon into your bowl, you hastily wipe the corners of your mouth clean with the side of your hand and push your half-empty bowl away. You’ve lost all your appetite for anxiety had poisoned your stomach.

“Call it my coping mechanism,” Seungcheol scoffs at Mingyu’s reaction. “When did you turn this sensitive?”

“Leave him alone,” Wonwoo sighs deeply as if he was used to this. “You know none of us like talking about Him.”

“I told you dating that Ravenclaw girl would make you weaker.” Seungcheol ignores Wonwoo, instead turning to Mingyu to poke and prod. “I knew you’d turn into a pussy.”

“She has a name, you snake!” You bark, outraged at him talking about your best friend as if she wasn’t sitting one seat away from you.

Mingyu drags his hands down his face slowly as he massages his eyes. “Love to hear such slander from the boy who got knocked down by a giant bird.”

Jean coughs into her hand to mask her laugh, and Seungcheol immediately turns bright red.

“Stop talking about that monster!” he grunts, angrily standing up and waving his wand violently to send his dishes flying back into the sink.

“Keep acting like a prick, and I’ll get that bird personally delivered to your bedroom,” Trinh exclaimed with a wicked smile.

Seungcheol strode his way out of the dining room and towards a door in the back of the house. “I’m going to work now, no one bother me.” He ground out with a sneer and slammed the door closed.

Breakfast was over quickly after Seungcheol’s temper tantrum. The hotheaded halfwit had walked off to fuck knows where.

Jean got up to help Mingyu tidy up, and all the dirty dishes and cups danced around in the air in an orderly manner, placing themselves into the soapy water-filled sink.

Trinh giggled at something Minghao whispered into her ears, coiling her finger around a button on his cardigan and pulling him back up the stairs. Wonwoo made himself another cup of tea and offered to make you another, to which you declined. He made his way up to his room shortly after and you quickly came to realize that you were standing alone with no company to keep but yourself.

“Accio,” you mutter softly, and your reading book flew out of your room and into your hands by the time you reached an old wingback armchair in the common room. The sunlight pooled into the room, washing over all the furniture in its warmth. Sitting down, you faced directly out the glass window and leaned over. With your elbows resting on your knees, you were close enough for your breath to gather fog on the chilled glass.

The outside world was living in its own time period. The rolling hills are covered with flowers that bloomed through the autumn frost, and the sun rays washed over them as the blue sky were brushed white with clouds.

The sight was hauntingly beautiful.

It should relax you.

It should make you feel at peace.

Even the cottage you sought refuge in is enchanting with all its homely furnishings and dreamy floating candles. From ceiling to floor, the glass wall gave you an amazing view of the garden oasis in front of you. Far in the distance, you can even spot a river that has twisted itself in and out of rocks.

Yet, even with all the wards and protection spells set up, it would still be possible for someone to sneak in. Just as Trinh was a spy for the cottage, there could be someone else out here spying in on the house. Even with the most powerful spells surrounding you, someone could still get in. The thought made your heart drop, a heaviness settling deep in your chest. Nighttime will eventually fall, like all other days, and the only thing you could imagine is Cicero and Selphie breaking their way through the barrier.

Fuck Seungcheol and his twisted, fucked up joke. His words got to you, and you couldn’t stop your own anxiety from taking over your thoughts.

Look what happened to Hogwarts.

You couldn’t stop the bitter thoughts coming into your head. The palms of your hands had half-moons printed in white from your nails digging in for so long. You released them when a bird flew by, and felt the blood rush back in to warm up your fingers.

Always, perpetually at unrest, you must be prepared.

This safety wouldn’t last long.

“—at least the weather is nice today—”

Minghao’s voice carried him down into the common room, and you peel your eyes away from your book to see the nest of snakes slithering down the stairs.

“Better not get paired with you again,” Wonwoo grumbles bitterly to Seungcheol.

You wonder curiously when Seungcheol made it back upstairs. Maybe he had apparated?

“Why not?” Seungcheol retorts back with a grin. “It was a fair fight!”

“Fair my arse,” Wonwoo sneers. “You’re a fucking cheat, and everyone here knows it!”

The nest moves together, walking right past you in the common room, and through the dining and kitchen area. Your book closes in on your bookmark, instead using your eyes to watch where they were going.

“Come on, Princess.” Someone calls out for you. “Jean and Mingyu are already outside.”

“Outside?” you raise a brow. “For what?”

“Dueling matches.” Minghao stops for just a second to turn back and answer your question. “You’re coming.”

He doesn’t say it as a suggestion, but rather as a command.

“Says who?” Scowling, you open your book again in a show of resistance.

“Nobody has the energy to get into a row with you every ten minutes,” Minghao drolls.

“Maybe except Seungcheol,” Mingyu slides in with a smirk.

“Just come along,” Minghao repeats, walking to the back of the house again. “We’re going to practice spells.”

“Alright, as always, pairs will be picked at random,” Trinh announces to the group in front of her. Warming charms are already cast to help against the briskness, and everyone had their wands gripped tightly in their hands. “I will be the Watcher for today.”

“What’s a Watcher?” you question, a hand is raised up to your forehead to block the sun out of your eyes.

“Since our group is at an odd number, one person always stays out to observe all the duels and takes notes. The Watcher of the day writes down everything they can so we can all keep track of improvements, and make notes of which areas we need to work on.”

“We don’t just sit around and do nothing all day,” Minghao smirks in your direction. “We stay active and get shit done.”

“Ah, yes, the ambition,” you bring your fingers up to air, quoting their house character in mockery. “Would you like a candy, snake?”

“It’s only day two, and I can already hear the tone of affection in your voice.” He places his hands on his chest in mock love.

“Just pair us up already, Trinh.” Seungcheol waves his hand hurriedly, unable to bear his fellow housemates acting so friendly with you.

“Already done it while you idiots were chattering away,” Trinh responds. “Alright, we got Jean with Wonwoo, Seungcheol with Minghao, and Mingyu with our very own Gryffindor’s Princess.”

Mingyu and Jean cheer in merriment at your nickname, taking obvious joy at your twisted face in disgust.

“Your majesty.” Mingyu bows dramatically, and Minghao cackles behind him at his foolish antics.

“Mingyu, you dog.” You frown, readying your wand out in preparation for the duel.

“Thought I was a snake?”

“Oh shut it, I’ll knock you off your feet.”

“Can’t wait to see you try, Princess,” he winks. “Best two out of three? Reducto!”

You barely bring up a protego by the time the spell hits you squarely in the chest. You are thrown squarely onto your back, and you grimace in pain. “Oh, you fucking twat—”

“Already one point ahead, Princess~”

The smell of sweat piled in the common room, and everyone was seated with their chests heaving after two hours of vigorous training.

“Winners today are Wonwoo, Seungcheol and Mingyu.” Trinh marks everyone down in her book. “Losers from today will cook dinner.”

“What— Hey, that was never discussed!” You rise back up to your feet, agitated with the sudden surprise. “You need to lay out all the rules before bringing people in!”

“Ugh, but we all know that Mingyu’s the best cook,” Minghao complains, “You really want to eat my cooking?”

“Even with magic, I’m sure your foods going to taste like shite,” you grumble, crossing your arms in defiance.

“You shitheads lost fair and square,” Seungcheol grins, crossing his arms as well to mirror your image in mockery. “Whip up something good for us, ey?”

“Wait until I’m paired up with you, shithead.” You drag your thumb across your neck. “I’ll knock you down within the first three rounds.”

“Oh, I’m absolutely petrified!” He brings up his hands and waves them in mock surrender. “The Princess is going to take me down!”

Mingyu chortles, unbuttoning his collar loose to give his shirt more space to breathe. “It’ll be an easy win for you,” he says to his friend. “I’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt, and give her the excuse that it was her first duel here, but man, Princess… you sure you were able to outrun those monsters? Didn’t see any of your fire today.”

“Leave her alone,” Jean chides him. “I lost against Wonwoo, are you going to make fun of me as well?”

Mingyu swallows his next words and purses his lips together tightly. You’re tapping your foot against the wooden floor, irritated at how the worthless beanstalk was able to defeat you. The duel replays in your head like a reel, and you make mental notes on all the areas that you could’ve been quicker and stronger.

“I’m heading back downstairs,” Seungcheol rolls up his sleeves and heads back towards the same door from before. “Call me if you guys need anything.”

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, you watch him as he walks past the kitchen and around the corner to a single door at the back of the house. This was his second time going there today.

“What’s in that room?” You ask, still staring at the spot. “What’s he doing?”

“Why don’t you ask your best friend yourself?” Minghao says cheekily.

Trinh smacks the back of his head. “Why can’t you just answer the damn question?”

Minghao pouts, voice whining to appease his girlfriend. “Because you know he only acts like that around her—”

You cut him off in disgust. “I don’t know what the hell that means, but don’t make me gag.”

“The door leads down to the basement,” Wonwoo answers for you instead. “It’s our potions room, so Seungcheol’s been spending most of his days down there drawing things up for us.”

“Seungcheol?” You quirk an eyebrow.

Mingyu shrugs. “Hate him all you want, but even you have to admit that he’s always been the top student for potions.”

“I’ll admit no such thing,” You respond back curtly. “What’s he brewing downstairs?”

“Antidotes for emergency use in case any of us get sick, but most of his potion making is for Trinh.” Wonwoo motions to the girl seated next to Minghao. “Polyjuice potion.”

“I never leave the house as myself,” Trinh continues the explanation. “I got a whole file with hair I’ve collected from other people. Students, professors, shopkeeps, ministry workers, and whatnot.”

“Even our professors?” Your jaw drops open incredulously. “How did you manage that?”

“Our Divination Professor is quite notorious for her drunken theatrics,” Minghao smirks, looking over at Trinh with a look of adoration in his eyes.

Trinh ignores him. “I doubt anyone would notice a few strands missing while everyone else is busy taking care of her. Humans shed over a hundred strands every day, it’s as easy as just reaching over for a hug and taking a stray hair off someone’s shoulders.”

Jean whistled, clearly impressed at how the whole network of espionage was working within the cottage. You nodded once, and then stopped yourself, not wanting to show the others that you had also thought the same.

“So medical potions and Polyjuice?” Jean asks.

“Wiggenweld, Essence of Dittany, and things for sleeping and the like,” Minghao drolls, waving his hand in the air as he lists off the potions.

“It’s strange though, he seems to be having some difficulty down there,” Wonwoo wondered curiously out loud. “Those potions shouldn’t be too hard for him, he aced every lesson and exam at school.”

“Maybe he’s overworking himself,” Minghao suggested, “He does spend most of his days down there. He might be overwhelming himself with all those potions.”

Wonwoo rubs his chin thoughtfully. “We definitely need more now that we have two extra people in the house… Maybe one of us should go give him a helping hand.”

“No fucking way, mate.” Mingyu huffed. “Last time I worked together with him, he shot a horn tongue hex at me for suggesting that he cut the doxy eggs instead of squashing them.”

“He’s right,” Minghao snickered at the memory. “Seungcheol doesn’t work well with partners.”

“Well, I guess the most we can do is to tell him to take longer breaks.” Wonwoo frowns, still thinking that won’t be enough for his friend.

“And it’s not like that arse would listen to us,” Minghao scoffs. “Just let him be. He’ll know his own limits.”

“Anyways, don’t you losers have some cooking to do?” Mingyu shows a toothy grin, leaning back to drape his arm around Jean, obnoxiously showing off his victory.

“Hope you choke on your food tonight, pissbrain.” You stick up both your middle fingers and walk away and into the kitchen.

Mingyu, unfortunately, did not choke on his food. The damn dog ate his food like a starved beast and even asked for seconds. You sneered at him the entire duration of the meal because you knew that bastard didn’t have enough brain cells to appreciate the complexity of the roast beef you made for tonight.

Everyone was at the table but Seungcheol. Wonwoo brought a plate of his dinner down for him because apparently one of the potions still needed a half-hour of turning counterclockwise.

Dinner passed by relatively quickly because of this. You found that the absence of your arch-nemesis gave you more time to actually enjoy your food while it was still hot, and you savoured every bit of it.

The plate drifted back up halfway through your meal, licked spotlessly clean, but came back alone. Seungcheol was still downstairs working away on his own.

“Another long night for him, huh?” Minghao muttered as he cut another slice off his roast.

“I’ll check in on him after dinner.” Wonwoo offered without glancing up. “He’ll come up with it’s time.”

Looking up at his words, you noticed the grim expressions on all the snakes faces. “Time for what?” you question. All of their faces quickly changed into something different now that you were watching, but try as they might, their usually cool and collected faces still couldn’t hide the grimness.

Strange, you were so used to their almost sociopathic, cunning looks, it was almost jarring to see how all of them couldn’t manage to put on their prim and proper masks.

“You’ll see soon,” Mingyu stiffened, looking back down on his plate. It was empty, and he was eyeing it so intensely as if he was trying to make a third plateful of food appear before him.

“The fuck does that mean?” Jeering, you stab your fork into the beef. “Can I ever get a proper answer?”

Minghao sighs, sounding equally as annoyed as you. “We’ll tell you when it happens.”

The frustration comes rushing back. Every time you think the boys are acting a bit more friendly with you, the window that you’ve graciously cracked open for them closes shut the second the snakes revert back to their usual twattish selves.

One step forward, and two ginormous fucking steps back.

Wonwoo, Mingyu and Trinh were polite enough to clean up after everyone was finished with their meals. Despite being the winners, they thanked you and your defeated companions for a filling meal and started to clean without another word.

At least their wealthy, righteous ass families taught them some common manners. You walked out of the kitchen without even a thank you and went back up to your room.

Your first day here felt so long. After being forcibly thrown into a small cottage that housed all your worst enemies, it’d be a miracle if you could even get a good night’s rest. Having to be in the same room as Seungcheol nearly drained all your mental energy, regardless of whether or not you were having another bout with him.

At Hogwarts, you always had the opportunity to walk away or avoid his vexatious face, but here, the most separation you could get from him is a closed door and an infuriatingly thin wall. You will be forced to be with him, be confined in here with him, every day from now on for God knows how long.

There is no escape for you here. You can not pretend like there isn’t a war raging outside against people like you and your parents. You can not leave despite being hidden behind a handful of protection spells. And you can not pretend like you are not trapped inside this tiny cottage with the man who has wanted to kill you since age eleven.

Would you rather be in the outside world? Out of Hogwarts, and outside of your childhood home, a place that you can no longer return to, and run on the streets with empty pockets and nothing to your name?

Despite the suffocation and all the frustration you felt, you knew this was the only choice you had. You had to stay here.

And even here, you must lay low. Be quiet. Cause no trouble.

How else were you to survive?

Jean called for you from outside the hall, and you quickly finished up with the buttons on your pyjama blouse. It was well into the night, and you had been getting ready for bed.

You had spent the past few hours, anxiously biting away at your parched lips, waiting for the time. The dreaded fucking time that made all the snakes drop their perfectly poised faces drop into the misery.

Your eyes were growing droopy and you decided that it must’ve been too late to see whatever they were all talking about, yet in the midst of preparing yourself for sleeping, Jean had called your name.

Now? Now they call you? Right when you were about to slip into the bed you warmed up for yourself?

Of course, they did. Why wouldn’t the snakes go out of their way to ruin even your precious sleep schedule?

Fucking dickheads.

Wonwoo picked up an old radio from the kitchen countertop to bring into the common room and placed it on top of the oval mahogany coffee table.

It looked like an antique, a wooden rectangular box with every corner chipped away after years of use. You looked at it questionably, wondering if the radio would even work.

“What is this for?” Jean asked, thinking the same thing as you.

“The Dark Report,” Wonwoo responded sullenly. He flips a switch and the radio turns on, static immediately filling the room. “Jun started this channel a few weeks ago. Starts at eleven o’clock, every night, and he only talks for a short moment.”

“Jun? From Hufflepuff?” Your brows furrowed, questioning why he of all people would be hosting a radio channel. “What’s he doing talking on the radio?”

“I meet with him,” Trinh explains more for you. “Every time I sneak out, I meet with him so that we can share everything that we know. I tell him anything new that I learned from the Dark Lord’s followers, and he keeps me updated on what’s happening in school.”

“I remember!” Jean lights up, sitting straight up in her chair. “He mentioned something about starting a report of some sort to help the other muggle-borns out. I didn’t realize he’d be talking on the radio.”

Seungcheol quirked his lips. “It’s a miracle that Dumblepuff was able to manage something like this.”

“I’m more amazed that you even know what a radio is.” You snort, rolling your eyes at him before turning away to watch Wonwoo again as he fiddles with the dials, still struggling to find the right channel.

“Yes, well, it’s quite unfortunate that muggle studies were made mandatory for us in our fourth year,” he drolls in response.

“It usually takes him a while,” Mingyu explains to you and Jean. “The channel is different every night so that he won’t get caught.”

Levelling your eyes on him, you ask, “What does he talk about?”

Mingyu swallows, eye lowering to his feet. Wonwoo smacks the radio a couple of times out of frustration.

“The damn thing is so fucking old,” Seungcheol sighs, leaning back into his armchair. “Honestly don’t even think it’s worth it, listening to this every night.”

“We have to.” Wonwoo hissed, narrowing his eyes at him viciously.

“Is anyone going to answer my question?” You ask again, exasperated. “What does Jun talk about?”

“It’s a list of names,” Mingyu mumbles under his breath.

“Sorry? A list of what?”

“A list of names!” Seungcheol repeats for Mingyu. “He lists a bunch of names every night. Names of people who have died from any attack, raids or fights with the Death Eaters. It’s to keep the rest of us updated on those that are still alive.”

There’s a click, and the static clears away. Wonwoo places a finger on his lips, and everyone hushes up immediately, leaning in to listen.

Thank you for coming back to us every night… Once again, I regret to inform you of the new deaths that we have learned of today…

Bitterwood Byul…

Lee Roan…

Silverberry Rose…

Sun Sage…

The list went on for a while, longer than you expected. Your breath was caught in your throat as dozens and dozens of names you didn’t know were being listed.

The sound of static glitched on the radio, and you could hear Jun gasp in shock. It was like he was choking on something, and everyone’s head snapped up to look at the radio.

And… and… Lee Seokmin…

#scoups #seungcheol #scoups scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #seventeen hp #seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen au #hogwarts au #svt hp

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Weird, “My human.”

You guys requested some more LFIL stuff, so I have brought it. Lots of Fluff, I hope. So please enjoy. Also based on a couple ideas given to me by the Discord server :)

“Where are we going.”

“You’ll see.”

“I feel like this is becoming our thing.”

“What?”

“Dragging the other to some sort of event and not saying literally anything about it beforehand.” Sunny hummed deep in her chest and Adam just rolled his eyes, looking around at the dark city awash with eternal night.

“Why Noctopolis of all the places. I mean we have a week off and you want to spend your vacation days in the literal dump of the galaxy?”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, “Please, you love it here. It's like any tradeworld from any sci-fi movie ever.”

That shut him up, and she could see the slow grin pass over his face.

Finally she shrugged, “Look, I just thought it would be nice to… go somewhere where we could relax, not have to worry about hiding.”

“I think there are a few nice beachfront planets we could have done that on.”

“Not with the tourism.” She shot back

A gust of sour wind kicked up through the bustling night streets tugging at Adam’s jacket and rippling the blue of his shirt like ripples across a pond. He adjusted his eyepatch as she led him through a maze of back alleys and tall buildings.

They took a rickety lift down into the gorge where the ever-present red mist billowed and glowed below them in patterns that undulated and wired.

They stepped off into another shallow rift, and followed a narrow street down into another side alley, where Sunny stopped.

Trash and little bits of paper blew around them where they stood in front of a peeling red door.

Adam raised an eyebrow at Sunny, “Ah, beautiful. A lovely vacation spot, I would like to move here and retire.”

“Smartass.” She mumbled at him before knocking on the red door.

There was a long pause while they waited, Adam tapping his foot against concrete below before the door opened a crack and a single human eye peered out at them. The distant echo of music thudded up through the room echoing off the walls.

“What do you want?”

“I’m A friend of Adam.”

Adam frowned and raised an eyebrow as the door shut suddenly and there was a rattling on the other side as if a chain was being released.

He glanced at Sunny but she only shook her head.

The door opened, and a woman with short buzzed black hair stepped into the doorway, invisible tattoos glowing under the blacklight.

As her eyes fell on him, he watched as her eyebrows raised, single eyebrow stud glittering in the light, “You weren’t kidding. Then her stern face broke into a smile, “Come on in. Any ‘friend of Adam’s is a friend of mine’.”

Adam followed along behind Sunny as the music grew louder, “Is that a code for something…. Is this a code? I am very confused.”

He was a lot less confused a minute later when they stepped out into the main room, a large spacious area with multiple stories. A room off to one side had bright flashing lights, and emanated with the sound of drums. Then there was a bar and couches and pool tables and TVs.

It was less of a club or a bar and more like some sort of clubhouse. The bar seemed to be serving food. On the second floor there were more couches, and some rooms that led off into other rooms.

But what really gave it away was the people.

Aliens and humans.

Aliens and humans holding hands and often cuddled up together on the couches.

He shot Sunny a look.

She just shook her head at him, and together they walked over to the bar.

Just off to their side a human was busily and delicately helping a Finnari to put on some sort of dark shaded glasses.

“That better, hun?’

“Yeah…. Yeah, that's better.” the Finnari hugged the woman, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for>”

“I know you can change how warm you are, and I’m sorry I have to wear the glasses….”

She just laughed and kissed the top of his head.

Adam cleared his throat awkwardly and tugged at the collar of his shirt.

They made it to the bar before anyone recognized them.

“Admiral!” He winced and turned around running into a familiar face at the bar, a familiar green mohawk and a small blue finnari.

Adam frowned, “I thought you were living on the Tesraki homeworld now.”

“We lease an apartment there for business, but we prefer it here…. So tell me, what are you guys doing here.”

He glanced at Sunny, “That’s what I’d like to know.”

She took a seat, “Just relaxing. It is our vacation after all.

Mohawk eyed them a little as Adam sat down reluctantly.

“Drinks on the house then.”

Beside him, the little Finnari waddled over handing up a cup of cucumber juice for Sunny.

The man looked at Adam,”Pick your poison.”

Adam shrugged, “Something girly and brightly colored that tastes good. If I’m going to get drunk it better be worth it.”

Mohawk grinned and got to work.

Another couple wandered over to the bar talking and laughing sliding into seats next to Adam and Sunny.

The human recognized him instantly and grabbed his hand to shake, “Admiral, Vir. I can’t believe you’re here! I can’t believe I get to meet you…. I…. well me and Hasan.” He turned to look over his shoulder at the large, silver Drev sitting next to him, “We owe you so much, the entire community owes you so much.”

Adam blinked, “I…. Well I mean…. I only did what anyone would….”

The man shook his head and waved a hand at him, no no, only you could do what you did and only you DID what you could.”

Adam shrugged not entirely sure what to say before…. “May I…. ask you a question.”

“Anything.”

“Friend of Adam. What does that mean?”

The man waved his hand, “Oh, it’s just a little coad we have for someone who is LFIL, you know so that we don’t have to say it out loud to someone we aren’t sure about.”

“Oh, I see.” he glanced back at the silver Drev listening quietly from behind, “And i’m assuming you are some sort of Kung Fu master…. Dating a Drev and all.”

“Official battle partners , actually.”

Adam raised an eyebrow, “You mean you’ve challenged-”

“Challenged him to the right of unarmed combat. Yes I did. You sure know a lot about Drev culture.”

“You forget, I am Sentinel of a Drev clan, and I spent a couple months training with one of the clans on Anin.:

The man grinned, “But yes to answer your question. I am a…. Sort of well known here on Noctropolis…. MMA fighter, though I also dabble in the use of medieval weapons.”

“Adam only had a little trouble believing that this overly talkative man could probably kick him six ways to sunday, but it seemed strange with his strong but silent type Drev partner who seemed just happy to listen and sip at his juice.

The Bar tender came back with a pink smoothie that Adam was sure had so much rum in it he wasn’t going to be able to feel his legs tomorrow, but it tasted pretty good and it included a crazy straw, so he was happy enough.

The man he had just been speaking to grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to his feet, “Come on, you need to come meet the others, they will be so excited to see you.”

He was tugged to his feet and went only a little hesitantly.

Sunny fell back and began talking with the silver Drev rapid fire.

He was dragged across the open floor to where a group of them was sitting around a low table.

A woman in a nicely recessed suit was sitting with her chin on her hands staring intently at the board.

A few rolls of the dice, and the little black-furred Tesraki stood feet on the table and pointed at her, “HA I win, eat your heart out sweetheart.”

“Not fair, if you hadn’t put hotels on the boardwalk, i would OWN your furry ass.”

The Tesraki waggled his ears at her

Adam couldn't help but bark out a laugh, “Are you playing monopoly…. Isn’t that dangerous to play if you want your relationship in tact?”

The Tesraki turned to look at him, walked across the table and then fell back into the arms of the wall dressed woman, looking rather smug as she wrapped her arms around him, “Not likely, human.” He patted the woman’s cheek, “my muse is one of the shrewdest business minds this side of the galaxy, and nothing is more attractive than pitting one financial mind against another.”

She stroked the fur on the top of his head.

Adam smiled but shook his head, looking around the room to where the others were staring at him.

He leared his throat, “uh….hi…. Sorry to intrude we just….”

That is when the cheers started up and he was pulled into the group with the others. He shook a bunch of hands before things settled back down.

A finnari and a human were curled up across the circle.

Silver drev and his battle partner were holding hands just to their right, and Adam was feeling a little more than awkward sitting, back straight hands clasped politely before him like he was sitting at church.

“Forgive me for asking, Admiral. I know it might be a sensitive subject, but everyone here in the clubhouse know each other, and we…. Well we have been wondering for a while. Well, we know you are supportive of us, of course, but we wonder if maybe you have other…. Reasons.” They glanced at Sunny

He felt his neck turn red, and tried to cover it by pulling his jacket up.

He glanced at Sunny and she leaned in to speak to him, “I think you should tell them.”

HE frowned at her.

“Just hear me out before you shoot it down. “I know you're stressed trying to keep it secret, and these people have a code of conduct. They won’t tell anyone. I just think it would be good to get it off our chests for once to people who will finally understand.”

He could see her point of course, but still. He wasn’t sure. Just thinking about saying it oud-loud was causing his chest to tighten up a bit. He had been fighting to hide this for a while now, and it was sort of just habit.

The group stared at him.

Hopeful expressions almost.

They were waiting for him.

But how was it that despite being with Sunny, he didn’t feel like one of them. The guilt was enough to galvanise him into action. He cleared his throat and sat up “well, not when I made the speech to the GA, no….”

They seemed to wilt.

“But,”

They all lifted their heads in anticipation, “I….. Sunny and I are….. Dating.”

The word fell from his lips like a led weight. His head felt suddenly light, and the room around them burst into sound and color as the group of them rose to their feet cheering. Someone slapped him on the back.

He could barely hear.

“Feels good doesn’t it, to finally say something to people who understand. DRINKS FOR EVERYONE!”

The group was smiling and laughing, “Come on, you don’t have to hide here.:

“Hold her hand!”

“Yeah.”

He caved, even though his hand was shaky and slick with sweat.

More cheering

He felt as if he was drunk, or drugged. As if he had stepped out of himself. Inside his stomach churned and swarmed with insects.

“Kiss her.” Someone else urged.

The group laughed, but took up the call. Blushing like red as a cherry he leaned up and gave her a quick kiss on the bheek before sitting back down.

Thanks for them, they sensed his nervousness and backed off.

Sunny hummed with pleasure.

He still felt lightheaded.

He could hear them talking but wasn’t sure what about.

Eventually Sunny got up with one of the other drev, and the two of them stepped over to a circle on the floor to have a friendly contest with spears.

Adam was left alone.

The partner of the Drev Sunny was fighting came to sit next to him looking over at the circle, “Pretty amazing aren't they….. Beautiful.”

He nodded lethargically before, “Can I…. make a confession?”

The group was interested and leaned in, he felt their eyes on him. He rubbed the back of his neck, “I… I really do…. Thank you all for… the encouragement but…. well . I have to admit that I….I’ve never really…. Felt like one of you.”

They seemed surprised but were interested to listen.

“What do you mean?”

“I…. well…. This is going to sound strange, but I’m not….. Actually…. Attracted to aliens.”

They stared at him confused.

He sighed and shook his head, “It's… complicated.”

“We’re listening.”

“I…. it's not the fact that she’s a Drev….. I would love Sunny if she were a Tesraki, or a Finnari, or a human. I’m not attracted to Drev as a hole, but Sunny….just Sunny. That’s it she’s the only one.”

There was silence for a moment, and for a second he thought he had offended them, but then.

“Aww, that’s so sweet.”

“I understand.”

“Yeah I can see that, but either way you are more than welcome here.”

He was surprised, and after that little exchange, he relaxed a little and smiled, taking a sip of his pink smoothie using his crazy straw.

Sunny was right, it did feel a little better to get off his chest.

And for Sunny, things felt better as well. Finally she had someone she could share with about humans. At one point the aliens and humans split off into groups, the humans living on nostalgic childhood games meant to cause pain.

Sunny sat with the others.

“And the mood swings with humans.” Someone was saying.

“Tell me about it. They go from angry to cuddly to horny in about two seconds flat.”

Sunny snorted, “Can’t say I’ve seen the last one, but the first two, yeah it's a bit of a roller coaster. No wonder they’re always exhausted.”

“Really, you’ve never seen the third one.”

“Adam is a bit…. Shy I think, It’ll probably take him a while.”

“Well you are in for a surprise when he does. Humans are a bit insane.”

One of the Drev huffed, “That’s a good thing I’d say.”

The group laughed and then, “Ok but does anyone else’s human get angry when they are hungry?”

A chorus of yesses.

Sunny sighed, “Oh yes, when your human is 6,2 and 210 lbs and often forgets to eat because he’s so busy. It is a common occurrence. Then he will try to argue with me when I go to feed him that he doesn't have time and he's stressed, and I tell him that he will feel better when he eats, but NO I’m the crazy one.”

One of the Tesraki smiled, “I find there are a few ways to remedy this. Number one, is that I have stashed snacks in all the vehicles and locations that we own. Barring that, I make it a habit to hide currency in her pockets so when she randomly finds a credit it makes her day. She doesn’t know I do this.”

Sunny smiled, “I have a friend who is a doctor, and he once made me read a paper about a human scientist Pavlov, who talked about conditioning, that if you associate certain stimuli with others you can cause a specific reaction. So I make sure to play this one very specific song when we spend time together or cuddle or something, so when he’s stressed I discreetly turn it on,and either he relaxes or he comes to me for comfort.”

The group ohed at her genius and she felt rather smug.

That was until loud laughter rang out across the room, and the group of them turned to see humans standing on the bar… or specifically one human standing on the bar dancing stupidly.

She sighed, “yep, that one is mine.”

It was good to see him loosen up at little though and he was more than happy to be dragged around by her. She even forced him to come dance with her, and some of the others joined in. Flashing lights and bodies pressed tight together in a semi darkness. Aliens and humans.

All that while the humans were slowly getting drunker.

Thought that all lead to an impromptu karaoke session with most of the humans singing horrible off tune in their drunken state.

Interesting how humans could suddenly become so bad at speaking when drunk.

Adam did pretty well though for someone who got dared to sing Burning Love, which he did pretty well despite sounding absolutely nothing like Elvis -- though to be honest, Sunny wasn’t a big fan of Elvis anyway and preferred Adam’s version. But that might also have been for the eye contact he held with her on occasion, allowing her to think maybe the song was for her.

A fact that made her secretly very happy.

Adam got more socially confident when he was drunk.

It seemed odd to her that he could be such an extroverted person who was very charismatic some times, but in other situations he could barely string two words together.

Either way, looking around at other people’s humans she couldn't help but be a bit smug. Yeah sure their humans were fit, but her human was the best. In her opinion, he had the brightest UV stripes, the prettiest eyes, and the nicest smile. Not to mention that she would bet money he could win in a fight against the other humans .

Unbeknownst to her, a similar conversation was happening across the room with the humans, accept it was out loud.

“I mean she’s fine, my boy is the best.”

Adam snorted, “Please, gold eyes and carapace the color of blue lightning. You can’t compete.”

“Mine is taller..”

“Mine is more huggable. The perfect height ratio, but have fun bringing a step stool around with you.”

“Don’t need one when he can pick me up.”

“She can pick me up too, so your point is irrelevant.”

He leaned back against the table, his voice slightly slurred as he stared across the room at her, where she was standing, demonstrating some sort of spear move to one of the other Drev.

His voice grew serious, “No woman, no Drev, no alien can compete with the sheer power, and grace. She is a phenomenal warrior, loyal…. Everything that is perfect.”

There was a pause, and then they all burst into a fit of drunken giggling.

By the end of the night most of the humans were passed out, or close to it. And the sober aliens walked over to collect their fallen human from the scattered bodies.

Someone ave Sunny a key, “Rooms upstairs.”

She nodded and thanked the bartender as she reached down and hoisted Adam up with her lower arms under his. He was probably going to have an intense hangover tomorrow, but now he looked rather peaceful in his sleep.

She waved at the other Drev doing the same thing to their humans. Occasionally helping one of the FInnari or Tesraki with a human that was too heavy.

She went upstairs and flopped him down on a bed. He didn’t wake up, but smiled in his sleep. She crawled up to lay next to him. She was glad that he had been able to relax. She had hoped finally admitting it to someone would help.

To be fair, she needed it too.

More than most could know.

336 notes · View notes

shleepys · 3 years

Text

AYYYY I hope you all were safe over the holidays and continue to stay safe over these next few months! Right now my state is dealing with record high covid numbers and a bunch of snow, might be different for you guys but hey, even though we're kicking off the start of a new year we still have to be aware of what's been going on and continue to push through it. But yeah!

We can finally reveal for the @harringroveholidayexchange, so I hope you enjoy what I made for the amazing @catharrington! I don't know how everyone else is formatting theirs if they did fic and art but I'm going to put both here! 💕

- - - - -

Overlooked

prompt! - I’ve always loved the differences in the two boys while growing up, I imagine Steve having huge Christmas parties with champagne flutes and the works and Billy being invited and happy to spend time with Steve, he really is!, it’s just a lot he isn’t used to. All up to author interpretations: make as fluffy or angsty as you want ;)

summary! - Steve forgets they were supposed to hang out elsewhere while his parents threw their annual Christmas party and agrees to stay.

Luckily, Billy doesn’t mind!

The only problem is, they don’t get to hang out... and Billy starts to feel overlooked.

- - - - -

Billy couldn’t be more out of place.

Parties were his thing, don’t get that wrong. He could get drunk, smoke, fuck, do whatever and if Steve was with him, only then it was infinitely better.

But this wasn’t a party. Not the party he knew. It felt more like a corporate gathering or a birthday for someone he didn’t know and he only ended up on the list because his boyfriend’s involved. Which wouldn’t be a problem if everyone around him wasn’t two to three times his age and he actually got to hang out with said boyfriend.

But it’s fine. It’s been fine so far.

Crystal champagne flutes and ugly holiday sweaters just aren’t necessarily Billy’s forte. He can’t fathom how much Steve’s parents spent on this party alone and can only bet that it cost more than the monthly payment for the house on Cherry Road. Not that he has much resentment towards what Steve’s parents do with their money but it just seems… unnecessary.

He takes a sip from his flute, rustling the jacket resting on his lap before leaning further into the sofa to try and wait this out despite already being here for what seems like hours. Billy gradually looks up again and stares into the other room where he can see Steve and his parents.

He can’t see their faces, but he can see Steve’s. Their backs are turned to him - Steve’s off to the side - they’re merely silhouettes so he can’t tell if his parents are just being gregarious or snobby. Then again, neither of them really talk about their parents so Billy has no clue.

Billy watches as a couple leaves, the discomfort continues to overrule Steve’s face as suddenly another appears and the cycle starts over again for what seems about the hundredth time. He huffs, kicking the shagged carpet beneath him before lowly cursing himself out. Should he have reminded him what they were going to do tonight? Or would Steve have rather stayed here?

He can’t tell whether or not Steve’s just over some of the pretentious attitudes and comments he’s overheard in the past hour or that he’s trying to break the chain and get over to him so they can do something together. He could always get drunk and wait for Steve to get done, he knows where the brunette keeps a bottle of scotch that he stole from his dad’s liquor cabinet in the office.

He blinks, lips sucked in to form a seal as he thinks. “Should I go home?” Billy whispers, soft and hurt. There’s not really a point in staying and maybe he can see if Jonathan has anything new to smoke. Deep, contemplative breath.

Billy stands up and discards his glass on the side table next to him before throwing on his coat and grabbing his scarf. Everything from then to going outside flashed by like a blur, nothing of importance really stricken in his mind other than colored sweaters and the sheen of champagne glasses hitting his eye. His breath is almost heavy as he opens the door and a wave of ice rushes over him. It bites at his nose, almost makes him want to itch it but he ventures out regardless. Billy slowly closes it behind him.

Billy sighed softly, eyes falling to the ground. It’s been snowing all day. Coming and going with the wind and dusting every road, house, and tree with freckles of white. Granted, everything was coated before it got too dark and hopefully, the roads weren’t iced over for any of the poor drunks inside. Steam rolled from his mouth as he exhaled before taking a deep breath. Billy threw the end of his scarf over his shoulder and looked out where his car should be, a somber smile passing his lips but twisting into a frown. Steve told him he could park where his family parks.

His feet felt like they were superglued to the deck, that, or like boulders had been tied to the ends of them. Billy bit his bottom lip and fidgeted with his coat pockets, sort of kicked the snow from under him.

He swallowed hastily, a lump bouncing in his throat as he looked out again. Couldn’t pinpoint the emotion to anything else but a pang of burning guilt. Maybe he should have just gone up to him, shouldn’t have made a big deal out of feeling left out, taken him away from his parents so they could go upstairs or leave.

Someone jerked open the sliding doors. Light poured from the inside, Billy twisted around to identify the backlit figure expecting a drunk only to find a breathless, seemingly worried Steve. Billy wanted to furrow his brows and walk off into the snow where he knew damn well Steve wouldn’t go into with house shoes on, but for some reason, he stayed put. Watches as Steve shuts the door behind him and rubs at his arm.

“What are you doing out here?”

Billy doesn’t respond.

Steve seems to catch on, and their eyes lock.

There have been times when Billy goes outside during a party to catch his breath, maybe sneak around back to talk to Steve about one thing or another, maybe drunkenly make out and hope no one was watching or Tommy had their back. But they hadn’t been to a party for a long while, not since September. And, Billy doesn’t just bring his car keys with him to ‘catch his breath’.

Billy broke contact with a sharp ‘huh’. “Did you forget about me?"

“What? No! Why would you think that?” Steve shuddered, pulling his hands into his sleeves.

Billy looked back up with dagger-like eyes, “Because it seems an awfully lot like you did.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

He could bite back, the very opportunity hanging in front of his nose. But he didn’t. Instead, a familiar quiver caught his lip. Lingering feelings creeping up and forcing his hand to itch at his pocket. Billy shook his head, eyes falling to the ground.

Steve frowned, aware of the events to follow. He’s known the other long enough to recognize the outline of Marlboros in any pocket. Deep down wishes there was some other habit Billy bid in, but that’s a matter of discussion that needs to be saved for later.

Eventually, the pack came out. Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched Billy, his lighter flaring until the end emitted a pale red before shakily tucking it away. He shook his head again slow and somber like.

“I’m sorry.” Billy started, hands moving along with his words. “And it’s not that I don’t want to be here. You’re just,” he sighed, “busy.”

Steve’s lips sealed tightly at the comment. He saw the discomfort present in the other’s sentences, could feel guilt churn in the pit of his stomach. Thing is Steve wasn’t the slightest bit spiteful, he was pissed at himself for not taking action to check up on the other. Not considering bringing another friend with them in case something like this happened. He’s upset because they were supposed to do something together tonight besides this but he forgot and agreed to be here. Steve watched him take a drag, self-spite running through his veins.

The corners of Steve’s eyes pinched, his throat tightening as he spoke, “No, I’m sorry! This sucks, this whole thing has sucked. I stressed myself out over decorating for the party and was so excited to hang out! I didn’t mean to agree but I forgot! And mom and dad keep introducing me to people. I- I wanted to spend time with you! I didn’t want to be here!” Steve took a step forward before shaky inhale. “This is my fault, this shouldn’t have happened.”

The next few seconds were the two boys staring at one another, each waiting on the other to say something. Billy was at a loss. Steve had a million thoughts streaming through his mind, hoping that the blonde wouldn’t just turn away and leave.

Eventually, Billy glanced at the door, peering through to check if the blinds were shut as a faint smile appeared. Billy’s lips pressed against Steve’s before he could protest, his hand meeting to cup the brunette’s jaw and brush over the apple of his cheek with his calloused thumb and cigarette in the other. Steve’s tears wetted his cheeks, he didn’t mind it all that much. The shock melted into comfort as Steve cherished the kiss, pouted when Billy slowly pulled away from him. The slight tinge of champagne lingering on the other’s lips, the heat of their bodies giving them a little warmth.

Billy craned his head - albeit Steve was taller - until their foreheads met.

“Don’t apologize. I get it.” Billy whispered. Steve gave a small, dismissive ‘huff’.

“My boyfriend should come before a stupid party. I should have told them otherwise.”

Billy shook his head. “The party’s nice. You beat yourself up too much over this kind of stuff, I forget things too. Remember the creek?”

Steve giggled, lips twisting into a smile. “In July when you were supposed to meet me there and didn’t show up? And I stayed there all night?”

Billy frowned as he thought into it, the bitter call at one in the morning that turned into a week of not talking to one another. It ended nicely though - if ‘nice’ was drunk car sex in the middle of the woods. There wasn’t much of an apology there but hey, they’re still trying to work on things and figure out how exactly relationships work because they aren’t exactly a sixty-year-old couple with forty years of experience behind the boy’s backs.

“I still owe you for that. Sorry.” His eyes fell to the deck as he pulled his head away, bumping his cigarette against his finger and watching the ash fall.

After Steve noticed the shift he got quiet, frowned, and eyes followed Billy’s to the wooden boards below. “Don’t apologize,” Steve echoed with a light smile. Gently Steve grabbed Billy’s scarf and drew him in for a slower, deeper kiss.

People forget things, that’s human nature. And sometimes they can be a bit dumb about it too. But this was going to be the boy’s first Christmas, granted it wasn’t exactly Christmas yet, but it was important to them both. Spending time with a significant other on a holiday was amazing even if they can’t shout it out to everyone they know.

These moments always have a sort of energy to them. When the boys share a wordless amalgamation of self-deprecating thoughts after ‘messing something up’ and those little habits come out to bite to express those thoughts oh so clearly. It’s a ball of weird energy that shines in self-hate that the two have been working to eliminate and hey, they’ve gotten pretty far! But, it’s still there. Smiling in the corner of the boy’s minds. Ready to strike at any moment. It’s just a lot smaller now.

Because again, don’t have the forty years and that’s perfectly valid even if the two don’t seem to realize it.

Billy leaned into the sweet kiss before Steve drew back. Billy chuckled and wrapped his arms around the other as he tucked his face into Steve’s neck. Steve shook again, this time cuddling up to the other and ravishing in the heat and short breaths coming out of them both.

“I wanna go inside,” Steve mumbled, rubbing at the other’s back.

Billy laughed and slowly pulled away to look at Steve. “Too cold?”

“I’m in a sweater and sweatpants,” Steve pulled on his scarf again and toyed with the frayed ends. The grin Billy responded with brimmed with bliss, his hand roaming up and held the other’s with a firm hold,

“I’ll meet you inside.”

Steve had ventured back into the party while Billy snuffed his cigarette into the deck, eventually, the two found one another next to the food Steve’s parents had catered instead of cooking this year. Only thing that wasn’t in foil baking trays was the Christmas cookies that Billy had been dying to try ever since Steve brought them up at the beginning of December. Drinks clattered in group cheers from the surrounding areas, the smooth music now bearable. He never expected that a party this foreign to him would turn out for the better. Never thought he would feel… like a part of it? The crystal flutes, richies, and overall appeal still don’t rock with him, but with Steve, he has someone there for him. And that’s all Billy could ever ask for.

Thankfully, he didn’t feel like he was going to projectile vomit champagne anymore… the nausea sort of faded after Steve kissed him outside. Billy turned to Steve, noting the rosy shade still dancing on the apples of his cheeks from outside.

“Your sweater isn’t that ugly,” Billy emphasized, chewing on an ornament-shaped cookie.

Steve shook his head with an amused sigh, sweeping the crumbs from his shirt. “This isn’t that kind of party, if it was I would’ve had you help me make one.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t think Karen from Fiance got the memo.” Billy pointed into the crowd at the woman in question. Her sweater took the cake for one of the ugliest, tensile hangs from her torso, lights strung all over, buttons on the brink of falling off. “You think she beats her kids over the head with a bible?” Steve rolled his eyes. Billy smirked at the little glare he’d received. “You should have pulled out your grandmother’s cat vests.”

Steve gagged, eyes wide and ridden with disgust. “Keep talking and you’re going to make me throw up. I never want to see those again.” Billy snorts and Steve shoves him with a laugh, “It’s not funny!”

“But you’re laughing!” Billy remarks and lightly bumps him back returning the bubbling laughter.

A woman seems to overhear their laughs and spins around with the biggest and brightest grin Billy’s ever seen. It kind of startled him. Doesn’t know who she is, doesn’t care to know until he recognizes the cat vest and how familiar those brown, round doe eyes are. She runs up to them, curls bouncing on her shoulders as she approaches with a drink in hand. Mrs. Harrington gasped, grabbing onto Steve’s sweater with eyes darting between both boys, “Is this Billy?”

Steve smirks and rolls his eyes again. “Hi, Mom. I’m back Mom.” She lightly wacks him in the arm. “Yes! This is Billy.”

Her eyes lit up, dazzled with happiness as she stuck her attention on the blonde as he snuck another cookie in his mouth. “Steve talks about you all the time!”

“What? No, I don’t!” Steve’s eyebrows knit together as he tried to defend himself but deep down knew there was no hope, especially after Billy gave him that smug but appreciative little look as his mom went on her story-telling rampage.

Billy laughs, almost in disbelief, “Really?”

“He talks about all of his friends, really. But, oh! When it comes to you he goes on and on and on, he really thinks you’re something.” Billy watched as the tips of Steve’s ears tinted themselves red and smirked. An interesting conversation for later. “I’m so upset that I haven’t been able to meet you until now! You two are always out or asleep by the time I get home.”

Billy’s brows quirked in an expression of sarcasm. “Well, thank you for not waking me up at two in the morning to introduce yourself.”

Mrs. Harrington chuckled, shaking her head before putting her hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m going to go get another drink. Oh, and Billy!” She paused and made eye contact, “If you want to come over for Christmas, you’re more than welcome too! Just tell Steve so I know.”

Billy’s brows flew upwards, blush rising and Steve picking it up instantly. She waved goodbye before walking around them and going off on her journey into another room. The boys stared again, each waiting on the other to say something until the brunette spoke up.

"She likes you," Steve muttered, ears still red as ever.

"You talk about me to her? I think that's cute."

He huffed. Had to stop himself from leaning against the other to hide his face. "Mom likes knowing what friends are up to."

Billy loosely smiled, slowly bumping into Steve with his hip before getting a light bump back. “You look a lot like her.” Steve shook his head.

“Not as much as my dad,” Steve turned to see if he was there and frowned when he didn’t see the other but slowly faded into a smile. “I don’t know where he is, he would have loved to meet you.”

The boys got quiet again.

Billy cleared his throat, his head tilted down as if to duck away to hide his blush and the movement didn’t go unnoticed by Steve. “About coming over for Christmas-”

“I want you to.” He softly tugged on his jacket to get his attention. Eventually, Billy made eye contact, grinned with a chuckle following behind. Christmas with Steve? His caring boyfriend, twenty million cookies, a few possible presents, and… some loving parents?

Billy couldn’t be happier.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #st #strangerthings #harringroveart #fic #art #harringroveholidayexchange #happy holidays #happy new year!

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softjeon · 3 years

Text

Falling for you | Pt. 1

• Pairing: Jimin x Namjoon • Genre: fluff, nsfw-content | Rating: Mature | Christmas!AU / Curse!AU • Words: 4,1k | AO3 • Disclaimer: mentioning of blood, accidents, alcohol

written with @cassiavioletblue

↳ Everyone told him that love was the highest aim, that it was what completes you and made you happy…but he was never lucky like that. It just took a piece of him and left scars on his heart every time. He was done with that. He had given up on love a long time ago so he should stick to it or else not only he would be affected.

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He glanced up at the luxury property as he crossed the street walking towards it. A massive twenty-something story modern building of tinted glass and stone. In front of it, there was a doorman wearing white gloves and dressed in a long red coat hailing for a taxi for an old man, before opening the door for him with a big smile. A shy thank you came from his lips, as he slipped into the building where he felt even more out of place than before. Maybe he should have decided to wear something else? He had never been to this part of the town and had never planned to do so. Usually, he had no business being here. But he really needed the money.

He frowned, trying to ignore the fact that the chandelier hanging in the lobby probably cost more than he had ever spent in his entire life, walking up to the elevators to push the button, Jimin took a deep breath.

…

"Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, jingle all the way!" His voice was echoing through the hallway, as Jungkook wiggled happily, dancing around, while holding a bunch of folders in his hands. "Oh, what fun it is to ride…" His singing stopped abruptly, when someone's chest hit his nose, making him stumble back. Jungkooks gaze wandered up the dark blue tie until he met his boss's eyes. "I know, I know. You're more the Halloween type of guy but the spooky season is over, Mr. Kim. Only four more weeks until Christmas!" A big grin appeared on his face as he pushed the folders into Namjoons hold. "No more warlocks, demons or witches. Just cinnamon, cookies, presents ...and love. It's my personal mission to get you into the mood, sir."

“Then I’m afraid I have to tell you your personal mission is bound to fail spectacularly.” He wipes a bit of glitter from the folders that he has no idea where it came from as Jungkook isn’t carrying actual Christmas decoration but he wouldn’t be surprised if Jungkook love for Christmas would manifest in glitter that magically appears on people who hate Christmas whenever he is near.

He wonders how someone can be so happy about a season where you have to hear the same songs you had to listen to all the years before, where everyone is stressed but points out that it's about ‘peace and family’ while everyone is getting crazy about how many presents they still have to buy and how much money it’s going to cost. He hates it with a passion, honestly, but keeps it to himself. Maybe it’s also because it’s supposed to be the ‘season of love’ and he closed that chapter a long, long time ago.

Jungkook frowned a little, but it was soon replaced with a smile again. “Are you always this self-fulfilling prophecy type? With this mood, how are you supposed to even enjoy the most wonderful time of the year? He sang the last part of it, posing as he stretched out his arms with jazz hands as if he’d just finished a massive dance piece waiting for his applause. But there was none. “Can’t believe I took the spot,” He sighed dramatically, “If I had known I’d be working for the grinch himself…” Jungkook grinned teasingly, knowing that Namjoon could take a joke - or else he really wouldn’t have been working for him as his personal assistant. It was his dream job actually.

When he first arrived at the interview, Jungkook didn’t think he’d stand a chance against all the other people with far more expertise than he had. Kim Designs was a very well-known Company, that Jungkook always had admired and in a ‘go big or go home’ moment, he had filled out the application in the middle of the night, a little frustrated and drunk on wine after being dismissed for the nth time by various of companies because of his lack of experience. And to his own surprise, the former assistant had called him in for an interview. The elegance, the simplicity and yet, the intricate little details that were Kim Namjoon’s trademark were always a personal favorite of Jungkook and although he still wasn’t so sure why he had picked him, he was happily working for him now.

“But you’re coming to the office party, right?” Jungkook asked with a raised eyebrow, before another sigh came from him. “The Christmas party? In your office? That is every year and you never attend?” The ring of the doorbell made Jungkook walk a little more backwards towards the elevator that was about to arrive on their level, without leaving his boss out of view. “I told everyone you were coming this year. Said you were really happy about it!”

Namjoon just pulled a face, “You’re lucky I need you or I would send you straight out to door so you can bring your Christmas-nonsense somewhere else!” The truth was Jungkook was the best that could have happened to this company and he was really fond of him so he would keep him no matter how crazy he would get during those last two months of the year.

The party would probably be like every year: He paid for it, for delicious food and colorful drinks, for decorations and little surprises - all made by a party company of course so he didn’t have to even step foot in the room. No one expected him to be there anyways, except for Jungkook maybe, who somehow never ran out of hope and determination.

“You can say it, Joon! You love me!” Jungkook winked at him, before turning around swiftly just right at the moment the elevator stopped. He pushed the button and the two metal doors slid open. Knowing about Namjoon’s appointment, Jungkook was keeping a smile on his face, awaiting the substitute maid that Hayoung wanted to send in, while she was on vacation.

Inside the elevator, he was realizing that he was facing the wrong way, Jimin turned around with blushed cheeks. “I’m here to see Kim Namjoon. I’m supposed to be taking over for Hayoung.” He spoke as calm as he could, trying to cover up the fact how nervous he was. He knew who Kim Namjoon was. Everyone did.

“That would be me.” Namjoon tried to hide the fact that the person in front of him was nothing like he had expected. Hayoung was a sweet old woman, the motherly type and somehow when she had said she would get someone to cover for her during her holiday Namjoon had thought she would ask a friend, someone her age. However, the boy in front of him couldn’t be older than himself! And he was pretty enough to be a model with full lips and a soft smile that turned a little shy when Namjoon looked too long at him. He cleared his throat, getting himself together before walking ahead. “Let’s go to my office, there we can do the formalities and we can decide when exactly you will start. I suppose Hayoung already explained all your duties to you before she sent you here?”

Jimin gave him a nod, passing Jungkook with a smile, who turned back around to let his eyes wander up and down the maid’s back. His eyes widened as he raised his eyebrows at Namjoon, pursing his lips into an appreciative nod. Pointing at the young man, he gave his boss a thumbs up, his mouth shaping all kinds of ‘wow’ and ‘omg’ words as he walked into the elevator. To top it all off Jungkook began to form hearts with his hands before he started to hum ‘all I want for Christmas’ again.

Namjoon furrowed his brows, shaking his head at Jungkook to tell him to stop. He received a very confused look from Jimin and realized that the younger’s relaxed and confident facade was slowly but surely starting to crumble. Was he scared of him? It didn’t surprise him when people from outside believed the media that painted him as an ice cold, scary, power hungry man because of his sudden success but he would have thought that Hayoung had told Jimin that he wasn’t like that. He opened the door for Jimin and the younger almost stumbled when he stepped on the carpet.

What a great start for someone who was supposed to clean his precious apartment…

Jimin sat down on one of the chairs in front of Namjoon’s desk, folding his hands together to keep them from nervously shaking. Was his expression already a ‘no’? Had he found someone else?

“Hayoung told me everything I need to know.” He began answering Namjoon’s question from before. “What your preferences are, where I can find everything, and she gave me a list of duties that need to be done daily or weekly. Oh, and of course the list of things I shouldn’t touch. She made sure I studied it well, before coming here, so I hope I can replace her for her vacation accordingly.” Jimin took out a thin folder, holding it out for Namjoon to take. “My personal information as requested.”

Namjoon put it aside right away, never taking his gaze from Jimin. He could read that later. What was way more important to him was if he could trust Jimin to stick to the rules, to not sniff around or steal or…worse. “Why did you take this job, Jimin? I’m sure you have better options than cleaning, don’t you?” He cut straight to the point.

Jimin froze on the spot like a deer in headlights.

“I mainly work as a florist but as you might know, it’s a job you have to do with all of your heart and yet, it doesn’t pay much. That’s how I know Hayoung. She always comes to buy fresh flowers for years. I assume some of them were even for your apartment.” He explained without hesitation. “I’m not really the type to work in a bar or be a waiter. I don’t mind cleaning, though and Hayoung has been speaking so kindly about you.” He smiled at Namjoon, feeling a lot more at ease the more he was talking. “And it’s Christmas, Mr. Kim. I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I could use a little extra money.”

“Money won’t be the problem, I pay well - if you do your job right. If you have a problem or need more cleaning supplies or anything comes up you can talk to me. And I mean talk to me first. My apartment is very personal and private and exclusively visited by me. As you might have guessed there are things that are of utmost importance to me. I am very peculiar about order and privacy and that you keep everything you see and hear to yourself. Do you think you can handle the weight of this responsibility?” He downright stared at Jimin by now who didn’t seem to know where to look.

“Absolutely,” Jimin’s smile reached his ears, looking up at him with a smile, before averting his gaze shyly again. In front of him sat a man with way more influence than he could ever dream of. He could destroy him and his reputation with a snap of his fingers. Jimin had absolutely no interest in angering him. Hayoung had explained it to him perfectly, the need for order and privacy, when it came down to the newest collection. Just one word to the wrong person could mean a great damage for Kim Designs.

“Then I’m glad to have you here.” He pushed the paperwork over to Jimin. “Please fill those in before you start. The money will be transferred to you at the end of your job. Two weeks, is it? Unless you need it sooner, then I can talk to Jungkook and he will figure something out as I trust you wouldn’t get Hayoung or yourself into trouble by just taking the money and vanishing.”

“That’s fine,” Jimin took a pen and began to fill out the form quickly but thoroughly. “When do you want me to start?” He asked, lifting his head to look at Namjoon again. “Oh, Hayoung hadn’t told me about it, but I happened to notice there was no decoration. Do you want me to set up some Christmas lights? I bet they would look great in your entrance.”

“No!” He blurted out, startling Jimin so much the pen slipped over the paper. He felt immediately sorry for him. “Ah, sorry for that, it’s just... I don’t really like the whole Christmas ordeal. It’s Jungkook who makes a fuss about it. Jungkook my personal assistant, you’ve seen him pass you at the elevator but I’m sure you’ll get to know him properly some other time, he basically handles my schedule on his own for me.” The alarm on his watch reminded him that he had to be in a zoom meeting in ten minutes, so he got up and Jimin mirrored him right away. “As for when you start, the sooner the better.” He got out his set of spare keys from the drawer and gave them over to Jimin. “These are my keys, don’t lose them or you’ll have to pay for the locksmith. You can let yourself in whenever you want, I often work late so you can clean whenever your other job allows it. Take your time in the beginning, I’d rather pay for an extra hour than coming home to a half-cleaned apartment.”

Still confused about his behavior but with a smile, Jimin took the keys from him. “I will do my best.” Was all he could say, before Namjoon had closed the office door right in his face, leaving Jimin startled once more.

Taking his bag, Jimin placed it on the kitchen counter and looked around the apartment. He could hear faint noises of a conference call behind the office door and because he didn’t want to be noisy and listen, Jimin took out his notepad, where he had scribbled down everything important that Hayoung had told him.

The apartment was far bigger than he had imagined, so Jimin was glad for the order of tasks he was given or else he’d have probably felt a little overwhelmed. After dusting off the shelves and cleaning up each and every counter, Jimin was sweeping the floor, making sure he didn’t miss a spot, and everything was back at its place just like before. Not an inch too far to the left or right. Just like Namjoon wanted it.

Hayoung would have been proud of him, Jimin thought to himself, when he pushed the button of the elevator again, waiting with a content smile.

…

“So, when was the moment you wanted to tell me Hayoung would send such a bombshell, huh? Is he single? Maybe I could slip my number in...or drop my card here somewhere...He probably is married, right?” Jungkook let out a small whine, as he looked up from his notepad, where he had scribbled down everything Namjoon had said in the last twenty minutes. “You know what you should have done, make him wear a maid’s costume.” He grinned, leaning back a little, “I’m just joking!” Raising his hands in defense, he added quietly, “You can’t deny he’d look good in it, or well, he probably looks good in anything. What was his name again?”

“I didn’t know who Hayoung would send and I also don’t care how he looks.” The last part was a blatant lie, but he knew if he confessed that he thought Jimin was very attractive Jungkook would never let him live it down. Also, he refused imagining Jimin in a maid costume (maybe at home in his bedroom when he was alone...)

“I don’t know if Jimin is married…” Jimin didn’t wear a ring on his finger but maybe he was wearing it on a necklace under his clothes “...but you better be quick if you want to ask him out because he will only be here for a couple of weeks.”

He placed his pen aside and looked directly at Jungkook. “Is there anything else on my schedule today? If not I’ll leave you to your swooning over Jimin to make some private calls.”

Jungkook shook his head, as he got up and took his bag with him. On his way out, the elevator already opened up before he could even push the button and Jimin smiled right back at him. Jungkook greeted him with a light bow, slipping into the elevator while the other passed him.

Jimin was holding onto something wrapped in paper and only the green ends sticking out told Namjoon what it was: flowers.

“I thought you might like them on your dinner table?” The younger man walked up to Namjoon, showing him the bouquet of flowers. “Do you like them? I arranged them just how I’d normally do it for Hayoung, just added a little more...now that I know what your lovely home looks like.” His eyes fell onto the phone in the other’s hand and the papers in front of him that indicated the other was still working and quickly added. “Maybe they make working a little easier if you can look at something pretty. I’ll put them in a vase for you and then you can decide.”

“That’s nice.. thank you.” Namjoon was a little overwhelmed. Normally he asked Hayoung to get flowers for birthdays or celebrations; he rarely got them for himself for no reason. However, Jimin had a well-trained eye and the light, soft colors brightened the room very nicely. The call that he was about to make was forgotten as he put the phone aside, following Jimin into the kitchen where the younger was busy filling the vase. “Did the cleaning go well?” He asked after a moment of silence, because he didn't know how else to start a conversation with Jimin.

“Yeah,“ Jimin cocked his head aside, looking at Namjoon with a smile. “Did I miss anything last night? I’m sorry if I missed a spot, I tried working off the list Hayoung gave me. Maybe you want to look it over and see if everything is included?” He arranged the flowers a little more, so they looked perfect, before turning it around to Namjoon to make him see. “I didn’t vacuum your office though, as you were still working when I was finishing everything. Are you always working this late, Mr. Kim?”

“No, no, it was perfect.” Had he sounded like he was questioning Jimin or wanted to reprimand him? Namjoon pressed his lips together. He really didn’t have a talent for small talk. He could handle a room full of people easily - if it was a meeting. But as soon as he tried to talk casually with someone it backfired.

“You made the right decision, please don’t try to vacuum my office while I’m still in it.” He tried a small smile. “I’m in contact with people from various time zones that's why I’ll have to be in my office during strange hours.” He explained, keeping it to himself that yesterday he had simply lost track of time.

“Just making sure you’re not overworking yourself. Even a busy man like you need to rest. I don’t think you come up with all your ideas on sleep deprivation…” Jimin pushed the vase over to Namjoon carefully. “Do you mind placing it onto the table for me?” He turned around to open the cabinet with the cleaning supplies to get out all the things he needed today. There was no need to do all the rooms daily, so he was switching routines, taking out the piece of paper again to check Hayoung's notes.

Namjoon didn’t move, holding the vase to his chest but keeping his eyes on Jimin, fixated by the way the younger licked his lips in thoughts while studying his list or how he pushed the hair away from his face. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked…

He was about to head to the stairs that lead to Namjoon’s bedroom, when Jimin noticed the vase still being in his hands. Jimin chuckled, looking up the taller man. “The dinner table, Mr. Kim. Or do you want it to be somewhere else? Should I take them up to your bedroom maybe?” Namjoon’s stare made him nervous, the long gaze he was holding made him avert his own. “Is…is there something on my face?” Jimin wiped over his cheeks nervously. He had quickly eaten some sandwich on his way over here, after he had closed his shop, so he wondered if there was sauce on his face. That would be more than embarrassing!

“Ah, dinner table of course!” He rather had Jimin thinking that he hadn’t been sure where to put the flowers then confess that he had been caught by how beautiful Jimin was. He was also pretty sure that Jimin was doing all those lovely little things that made him so charming without even realizing it. “Your face is fine.” He answered Jimin’s question a little stupidly, leaving it at that without giving another explanation, simply because he didn’t have any that wouldn’t include how he could stare at Jimin for hours without any reason.

Jimin couldn’t help but giggle at Namjoon’s cuteness. It was strange to see a man, who he only thought of a well-known designer, someone wealthy and smart so flustered out of a sudden. It was kind of cute.

Walking up the staircase, Jimin smiled at the other over his shoulder when out of a sudden he stumbled forward and over the rug that was laid out at the top. Falling hard on his knees, Jimin yelped in pain, just for it to turn into laughter, quickly giving Namjoon a sign that he was doing okay.

Namjoon hurried over to him, nonetheless. “Are you okay? Did you slip?” Jimin fell so quickly that he hadn’t seen anything at all. Hopefully the other wasn’t hurt because - and he felt a little guilty thinking this - if he couldn't come clean then Namjoon would have no possibility to see him again. And he really wanted to see him…

“I’m fine,” Jimin was about to get up, when Namjoon’s strong grip pulled him up easily. “Oh, please don’t worry.” He quickly waved the other off, I just stumbled over your rug, that’s all. I’m usually not very clumsy, but I think looking one way and going the other is never a good idea.” His eyes fell down to where Namjoon was still holding onto him and his heart skipped a beat, quickly trying to cover the blush appearing on his cheeks while he brushed off his knees. “It’s best I fall up the stairs, not down, right?”

Namjoon chuckled. “If you put it that way then yes, please only fall up the stairs.” They were standing a little too close together from how he had pulled Jimin up but neither of them stepped away. Up close like this he could see Jimin’s eyelashes that fanned out beautifully, hiding Jimin’s eyes with the way the younger was looking down right now. There was a rosy blush high on Jimin’s cheekbones and Namjoon almost brushed over it out of instinct, before he quickly stepped away, shocked by his own desires. What the hell was he doing here?

Jimin flinched from the sudden step back when moments before he had gotten lost in Namjoon’s eyes. “I ehm…I need to be in your bedroom.” He stuttered the words nervously, realizing too late how they sounded. “I mean…clean your bedroom. I wanted to change the sheets and…that’s where I need to be. Not in the sheets, I eh…” Jimin was about to slap himself, feeling his cheeks flush red as he grabbed the cleaning utensils again and taking another step away from Namjoon.

With that Jimin vanished so quickly Namjoon couldn’t even utter another word. Which was probably better because else he might have told that he would very much like it to have Jimin in his bedroom and in his sheets.

Namjoon shook his head hoping to get rid of those strange ideas. What was he doing? One night stands where fine but this? This was dangerous. He had given up on love a long time ago so he should stick to it or else not only he would be affected but also Jimin.

The poor boy had no idea what he had gotten himself into, he was just sweet and charming and Namjoon should make sure to keep his distance from now on if he didn’t want to destroy that.

A/N: Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells... Let’s get into the christmas mood with a little love story shall we ;) Once more we couldn’t keep ourselves from writing our favorite pairings. Thats how it is now lmao. Anyways...why is Namjoon afraid of affecting someone with falling in love? What’s happening there huh???

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spookyhalloweennights · 4 years

Text

Long Distance Love (Zayne: sfw)

The buzz of your phone in your pocket had brought a smile to your face despite how stressful the day had been. You had a feeling you knew who it was as you pulled your phone free from the confines of your pocket, the screen illuminating around the edges to show the new messages that had come through.

‘I can’t believe the last episode of the show! You had tricked me! You said it was a good ending! I hate it!’

Attached to the message was a bunch of the crying emojis, and you could only laugh at how ridiculous he was being. You took a moment or two before you actually responded to him, the red brick house you lived in coming into view as you finished your stroll around the neighborhood. The need to get out of the house was overwhelming so you had decided to take a walk to get some fresh air.

‘I said it was a good ending, I didn’t say that you’d actually like it.’ You replied simply, attaching the emoji that had its tongue sticking out to the message before sending it off again. Instead of shoving it back into your pocket, you simply held it in your hand knowing that you would get a response shortly after.

‘Fair point but still! Also are we still on for movie night?’ Came the next reply from him, you could only grin as the familiar feeling of a blush began to creep up your neck before settling across your features.

‘Of course! Wouldn’t miss movie night for anything! I’ll be home in like two minutes and then I can get my computer setup!’ You were quick to reply, he merely responded with a thumbs up to the message.

The pair of you had settled on the latest animated movie for your typical movie night, Zayne had actually suggested it and even went as far as to make sure he had it rented for the night despite you having a streaming app that would allow you to watch it. You had protested against him renting it, but he had merely dismissed it and told you that it was his turn to pay for date night anyway.

Upon arriving at your front door, you had noticed a package that was left in front of it. Shoving your phone back into your pocket, you picked the package up and examined the label to see who it was from. A giddy smile was quick to make an appearance as you noted it was from Zayne. After having accepted his request for you to be his girlfriend, you had started receiving packages from him, of course you had sent some yourself in reply to his. Whether it was your favorite book, a shirt you’d think he’d like, a jar of notecards for him to open at different times… The list went on, opening your door you walked inside and shut it behind you, quick to make a beeline to your room.

The fans of your computer whirred to life as you hit the power button, while it started you opened the package. A box of your favorite brand of popcorn was inside, some chocolates and sweets, but most importantly there was a new candle. Your other candle had finally reached the end of its life and you vaguely remember telling him about it the last time you two had spoken.

Setting the box off to the side after settling on a sweet to munch on during the movie, you finally opened up the video app you used to stream movies on with him and talk. It took only a few more moments for it to fully load after you had logged on, clicking on his profile picture and then the call button.

“Hello?” His voice came through, the old pair of headphones you were wearing muffling his voice a little.

“Hey! I got your package!” You were quick to jump into the conversation, a grin on your face. “I love the candle, I’m surprised you remembered me mentioning it.”

“You’d be surprised at what I remember that you tell me.” He chuckled, the movie showing up on your screen and beginning to play. You adjusted your audio settings so that you could hear him clearly while the movie played. “Like the time that you were at a friend’s house swimming and their dog had gotten hold of your bikini top strap and was pulling on it.”

“To be fair, it was pretty funny, terrifying at the time since the dog was pretty big. Well… At least about as big as me.” You explained with a laugh. A flutter of nerves rose up in you at the question you had been wanting to ask him for awhile now.

“I have some vacation time coming up, I’ll be off for a week…” You began, the silence almost deafening from your usual banter and talks. “I was thinking I could get a plane ticket and fly out to visit you, if that’s okay with you?” You found the courage to finish the question, it had been months since the two of you had officially gotten together and you were dying to see him.

The silence stretched on and the nervousness you had felt before began to amplify. “Zayne?” You asked, hoping for some sort of reply.

“I..” Zayne had started but then seemed to pause as if he was looking for the right words to say. “I don’t think you’ll be impressed by what you see but… I’d be okay with it.” He responded, a wave of relief washing through you.

“Great!” You chimed, the conversation changing and going back to your usual discussions, the air light with the promise of something else.

The following weeks were spent talking about what you would do when you got there, where you would stay - which Zayne wouldn’t let you rent a hotel room for the time you were there, he claimed that they couldn’t be trusted but you had a feeling it was just to get to spend more time with you, and so on. It continued even right up to the night that you were packing your bags for the week, deciding to stay for the entirety of the time that you had off.

“Are you nervous?” He asked, his voice coming through the speakers you had installed a little while ago as you moved about your room making sure that everything was in order.

“A little, I haven’t been on a plane before… You’ll be there at the airport right?” You asked probably for the hundredth time.

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to miss meeting my girlfriend for the first time. I’ll be there with a giant sign that says your name on it.” He responded, the reassurance calming your nerves for the moment. “You better get some sleep, it’s getting late for you.”

“I will.” You paused briefly. “I love you Zayne, I’ll see you tomorrow.” The words still felt heavy on your tongue as if they weren’t supposed to be there, but you knew it was from how your current state of mind was.

The beep of the call ending gave you a sort of comfort, knowing that he wouldn’t have to listen to you fret over your choices in clothing or what time exactly you had to be up. He reassured you that you got this, that you would make it on time and that he would be waiting for you. No doubt he would be, he had been hesitant at first but it quickly changed to excitement at the idea of spending time together and being within arms reach.

When your alarm went off the next morning, you had already been awake five minutes prior, silently counting down the minutes that signaled the start of something new. After gathering all your bags and having a very quick breakfast, you were quick to dash out the front door and head to the rental car you had. Packing everything up and getting into the car, you made your way to the airport.

The flight was pleasant and not to mention the beautiful view you had gotten by picking a window seat. You had made a new friend during the flight, an orc who was in the same boat as you, the two of you were quick to strike up a long conversation even going as far as to swap numbers to keep in contact since you would be in the same city as her.

Once the plane had landed, and you had gathered your bags you headed into the waiting area, the familiar wave of butterflies rising up in you, making you nervous again. You held onto your phone, the flurry of texts coming through now that you were on the ground and in an area that had reception.

‘I can’t wait to see you!’ Was the last one that you had received minutes before the plane had actually landed, with the quiet reassurance behind the message you moved forward. Scanning the crowd before a bright, colorful sign was held up with your name on it. The colors made you gasp in surprise, you had heard of how once someone had found their soulmate, colors burst to life before their eyes but you didn’t think it would be like this. The world around you seemed brighter, and you practically shoved your way through the crowd to get to him.

“Zayne!” You called out, grabbing the drider’s attention, he was much more beautiful than what you ever could’ve imagined. He had long, white hair that was tied back, his skin a pale blue color before it shifted into a much brighter sapphire blue on his legs and abdomen, both of which are covered in a soft hair.

His excited grin turns to shock as he begins to look around him before his gaze finally turns back to you. He steps forward hesitantly before a warm smile takes the shocked look, he captures you in a hug and twirls you with a laugh that had the others cooing at the sight of you two. “I had a feeling…” He began but you simply cut him off, cupping his face with your hands and pressing a kiss against his lips.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous.” You stated as if it was a well known fact, a rosy coloring covering his cheeks from the sudden kiss.

“I could say the same thing about you.” He responded, he set you down, taking some of your luggage so that you had a free hand which he quickly took hold of with his own, lacing your fingers together as you both silently moved towards the exit.

“I’m glad to have met you.”

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster lover #drider #drider boyfriend #drider x reader #Spooky'sWriting #sfw #spookyhalloweennights

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dbtskills · 5 years

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Psychiatric Hospitalization 101

So you’re about to save your own life by going to the hospital- here’s what you need to know:

~disclaimer: I am not a healthcare professional nor have I worked in a hospital. I am simply someone who has been hospitalized multiple times. This is about acute, short-term psych hospitalization. My word is not law~

The Truth

First off, let me tell you the truth. The truth is that being hospitalized is one of the bravest things you can do. You have chosen (or perhaps you haven’t) to save your own life. Not to beat the physical vs mental illness comparison to death, but conceptually this is like going to the hospital with a broken leg to get a cast. You’re treating an acute wound, going to get a tune up, going to a safe place to heal. Unfortunately there is a stigma involved. It’s been decreasing recently and I think you’ll find psych hospitalization is a lot more common than you imagine. But it still exists. You can be proud of taking this step. It will be hard, but you’ve made the right choice.

When to consider hospitalization

Being suicidal is one of the most common reasons for hospitalization. Psychosis, panic attacks, and substance abuse are others. The main factor for choosing to hospitalize is whether you think you can survive the episode you’re having. If you’re even questioning it, hospitalization is probably a good idea. If you’re choosing between your life and the hospital, the hospital is always the right answer even if it doesn’t seem that way at the time.

The process

There are two ways to be hospitalized: through the ER and straight to the unit. The ER is the most common way. Occasionally your therapist or psychiatrist or other healthcare provider will be able to bypass the ER for you and get you straight into a bed on a unit. If you have this opportunity, definitely take it.

If you go the ER route, you arrive and explain why you’re there. You’ll then be taken back into a room- sometimes a private room, sometimes a communal psych room. Sometimes your phone will be taken. A guard will be stationed near you to ensure you do not hurt yourself or try to run away. You may wait for hours. You’ll see a psychiatrist who will determine whether to commit you to the psych unit or send you home. If they decide to commit you, you’ll be wheeled to the unit.

For me, the worst part of the process is the ER. You’re often helped by healthcare professionals who are judgmental of mental illness or are too busy to enact kindness. It can be a very dehumanizing experience. You may regret coming to the hospital, but you did the right thing. Saving your life is always the right thing. It’s okay to regret it for a bit as long as you follow through.

What to pack

Your belongings will be confiscated upon your arrival but if you have a chance to pack or if you have someone to bring you stuff, consider these:

A warm comfy outfit like sweats (but without a string at the waist!!!!!! take it out or they won’t let you have them!), SOCKS, pjs. Loungewear basically. The hospital provides basic toiletries, socks, and gowns/scrubs/paper pants. They can provide underwear and pads as necessary. Pack a hair brush if you’ve got tangly hair bc whatever they give you will NOT suffice.

You may want to bring your medications just in case the hospital doesn’t have them in their pharmacy but you will not have access to them, all your meds will come from the hospital itself.

Books! Some hospitals have a small library but you can bring your own if they’re deemed appropriate by the staff. They provide stuff like coloring pages, puzzles, games, etc but it can get p boring.

BRING A WRITTEN LIST OF IMPORTANT PHONE NUMBERS. YOUR PHONE WILL BE TAKEN.

You will have to ask to have items you arrived with brought to you from your belongings bag. Occasionally they will be reluctant, but you can self-advocate your way through it.

On the unit

If you came to the hospital in the evening you may get little sleep that first night. You have to do the intake where they ask you all the questions and you sign a bunch of forms. You must be up for breakfast the next day. That first day you won’t get to choose your own meals but you will fill out a meal card for the next day.

Most of your day will consist of shuffling between different mental health groups. Mental Health Professionals (often social work masters students) run groups on addiction, coping skills, community resources, gratitude etc etc in addition to your stereotypical group therapy. There are 3 meals a day, snacks available, and lots of downtime. There’s also activity hour where you do crafts or play games. During activity hour in my last hospitalization I painted a cackling coffin (it was October). 10/10.

You will have a roommate. My experience is that you both mind your own business while being kind and it’s generally okay.

They will take your blood pressure and vitals at least once a day. It’s annoying but necessary. They may do labs and draw your blood depending on your circumstances. If you have a physical illness as well, it may be a battle to make sure you are seen and treated for that too. All I can say is be your best advocate.

You will not have your cell phone. This will be stressful at first but hopefully nice after a bit. You can call whomever you want using the hospital phones that are on during downtime. You may have to ask the staff to dial if it’s out of the hospital area code. People can also call you if they know where you are. Do what you need to do but also don’t be the Phone Hogger bc we all want to use it too.

Visitors are allowed during certain hours. It’s not like a regular hospital visiting situation where they can just sit by your bed for hours. It’s like once a day for an hour you can get a visitor, no more than two at a time or whatever the rules are. No one can visit or call you without your permission. Visits by loved ones are so so nice and make you feel human again. I would encourage finding someone you trust who can visit you. It can make a world of difference.

"How can I get out faster?”

This is a hack question tbh. I know everything sucks but you are there to heal first and foremost. Generally they release you when the psychiatrist thinks you’re ready to go. The average stay for something like an acute suicidal episode is 3-5 days. That’s enough time in the dr’s eyes for you to stabilize and receive any medication changes. If you are on the unit voluntarily, you can technically leave at any time. I’m not sure I’ve seen anyone insist on it though. Ask your doctors when they are considering releasing you so you can plan. They may change their answer so casually check in now and then.

Go to groups and participate in them. If you're hiding in your room all day the nurses will notice and they do write that down. There may be many people on the unit, but the nurses are keeping track and taking roll. If you can, be open, honest and compliant with your treatment team. Now there’s a part of me that goes “Fuck The System!!!! Fuck being compliant! I am my own woman and my illness is Me and not something to be stigmatized or hidden. Take me to Bitch Planet, bitch!!!” This is totally valid. You just have to decide what is more important to you- being noncompliant in the face of a judgmental system or getting back to the world. As much I want to rebel, my perfectionism and people pleasing tend to kick in by the second day on the unit.

The aftermath & “what do I tell people?”

When you are being prepped for release, you must have appointments with your outpatient treatment team set up. If you don’t already, the hospital will schedule them for you. If there’s someone who can pick you up, utilize that. Otherwise they may set you up with a cab or something depending on the location. You will be given the bag containing your phone and other belongings upon release.

It is up to you to decide what to tell people about your stay on the unit. You can be honest with whomever you choose, but you don’t have to be. You can say you were out of town or had a family emergency or whatever you want. It is not your responsibility to break the stigma. If you can and want to, go for it! We will all appreciate it. But you don’t have to advocate if you don’t feel comfortable. I tell many of my friends and family the full truth and then tell others that I was “in the hospital.” If they ask questions I say I don’t want to talk about it. This works better than you might think. (It surprised me how respectful people are when you say you don’t want to talk about something.) Most people won't even ask, tbh.

It's not all garbage

It’s not all drugged up zombies and Dissociation Time: my last experience was pretty lit. We had morning “stretches” to ‘80s bops. We played Wii bowling. We discussed aliens and conspiracy theories. In a place with such a heavy stigma on it, it was a surprisingly Shame-Free environment. It was comforting to be in a place where everyone Got It. At night we would get our meds and then drift off to bed one by one as the meds hit to goodnights of “ope, the Seroquel’s kicking in.” The variety of people on the unit proves that mental illness affects everyone, from the college student to the 75-year-old retired man to the soccer mom with 3 kids. And they each have different ways of coping, different perspectives on their situation. These other perspectives can be inspiring, even helpful and you may pick up as many tips from your peers as the actual professionals. Respect your peers, don’t be that person who’s like “why am I, Normal Person, locked up with all these Crazy People?” If you’re in there, you’re all in the same boat. Crazy is a slur and no one there is crazy unless they choose to reclaim the term.

The staff can be quite kind as well. I once had a nurse go down to the gift shop to get me a tiny hair brush for my waist-length tangled hair. He didn’t have to put in that effort but he did. This past time I had an MHP sit with me after a session and develop personalized affirmations that she wrote in my journal with her gorgeous, swooping handwriting. It’s small things like these that end up mattering most in an environment that can feel harsh. There can be great kindness there, under all the rules and regulations, you just have to be open to it.

I’ve made a wide range of friends in hospitals. Ones I’d never have even encountered in real life. Even though we haven’t kept in touch, I think of them often. My roommate with terminal kidney failure who got ECT twice a week but took the time to ask how I was. A recent immigrant from Nepal who didn’t speak any English but with whom I communicated anyway. Sandy, my homeless roommate who gave me all of her toiletries instead of taking them with her. Trevor, a young heroin addict who guarded my chocolate cake when I had a phone call. Curtis, a retired professor deep in psychosis whom we taught to Wii bowl. There are so many different lives that tangle with each other on the unit. In this way I consider it a gift, to have a window into all these different worlds that are connected by this one string. I’ll never see these people again, but I’ll never forget them either. I hope they’re all still out there, getting by.

Getting hospitalized can be one of the scariest and hardest experiences but it is also one of the bravest. You saved your own life. Even if you didn’t bring yourself in, your participation saved it. It is a chance to reorient yourself to life, to recovery. It is a second, a third, a 15th chance. It’s like a terrible mini vacation. Responsibilities are lifted so you can focus on yourself. Utilize it if you can.

Again, my word is not law, it is based on my own experiences on the inside and outside of psych units. Please please reply or send asks with your own information. I know I’m not the only one on here who’s been hospitalized. We are legion. We survived. We survive.

**Note from Kat: I am trying to learn graphic design (is my passion™) but the struggle is real and it does NOT come naturally so if anyone wants to help hmu!!!!! Can’t pay obvi but can link!**

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ionlyspeakinmyheroacademia · 4 years

Text

Under the Fluorescent Lights

masterlist

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k+

Type: Oneshot!

Summary: You and Shouto are both harboring unspeaken feelings for each other, and the school dance may be your last chance to tell each other

Warnings: none, just pure, tooth-rotting fluff :)

Author’s Note: This was really fun to write, I hope you all like it, stay tuned for more lovelies! (story under the cut!)

𐇵𐇵𐇵

You had never been in love before, or at least you didn’t think you had. Up until this point in your life, you had had crushes, and flings, but you had never been in love.

That was, until you met Shouto Todoroki. You befriended the bi-haired boy, his cold, closed-off demeanor drew you in, even if he didn’t necessarily want you there. After a few months of going to UA together, he finally accepted that you weren’t going anywhere, and you became real friends.

When he finally opened up to you, and showed you who he really was, you were amazed. He wasn’t the cold, arrogant boy most people saw, he was kind, and funny, and sweet. And slowly, without meaning to, you fell for him. Hard.

It was nearing the end of your third year at UA, and you still hadn’t got the chance to tell him how you really felt. You were terrified that he would reject you, like he’d rejected so many others in your time of being friends with him, that he wouldn’t want you the way you wanted him. These fears filled you up, ate at you from the inside, preventing you from voicing your feelings.

But it was fine. Shouto seemed content on staying friends anyway.

“Y/N!” you heard from behind you, and you turned to see you best friend Mina, bounding down the hall towards you, her eyes lit up with excitement.

“Hey Mina,” you said as she crashed into you, nearly knocking you both to the ground.

“Gosh, be careful clumsy!” you scolded, but you don’t really mean it, you were grinning the whole time.

“Anywho, so guess what!” she said, bouncing around excitedly.

“What?” you asked, trying to focus on her face as it bobbed up and down.

“Soooooo, since this is our last month at UA, they’re having this dance for the third years, and…. I think you should ask Todoroki!”

“Mina!” you protested, looking around quickly, making sure no one was around to hear. “Could you be any louder?!”

She laughed, and leaned over to ruffle your hair affectionately. You pushed her off, and complained about your now messed up hair.

“I think you should finally just tell him, Y/N. It’s been long enough now, even if he doesn’t return your feelings, which he totally will, by the way, wouldn’t it be better if he knew?”

“No, Mina. I’m not jeopardizing my friendship with Shouto just so he can know what I feel.”

“Whatever you say….” Mina said, shrugging, and then she threw her arm around your shoulder, and the two of you walked down the hall towards the dorms. “You will come though, right?”

“Yeah, probably, we can go together, like the single pringles we are,” you laughed, and bumped your hip against hers, and the two of you headed down the hall, laughing as you went.

𐇵𐇵𐇵

Shouto didn’t usually let people know how he felt.

But then he met you, and you changed his life for the better. At first, he was wary of you, you were so bright, so full of energy, and you shone brighter than the sun. He was nervous to open up to you, because everyone in his life had betrayed his trust at one time or another. But you were there, you were always there, even if he wanted to be alone, you were there to calm him down, to listen to his anxieties, his insecurities, his feelings. And slowly, over time, he fell in love with you, as much as that scared him.

In the beginning, he wasn’t sure what the feeling was. It filled him up, a warmth spreading through him, one that wasn’t caused from his quirk. His cheeks would flush slightly whenever he saw you, and he would only have eyes for you whenever you were in the same room as him. If you noticed, you never said anything, and he was too worried to ever really tell you what he felt.

So naturally, he just bit back his feelings, and kept them inside. It was the only thing he knew. All his life, he’d seen what love did to people, it tore them apart, it made them crazy. Shouto never had a good example of love in his life, considering his parents weren’t in love, and his bastard of a father, who beat Shouto’s mother, siblings, and Shouto himself constantly, definitely wasn’t. And honestly? He was afraid that one day he would turn into his father. It was his greatest fear, and the only person who knew was you.

Because he trusted you, more than he trusted anyone.

“Todoroki? Are you even listening?” Midoriya asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Huh?” Shouto said, shaking out of his thoughts. Midoriya shook his head and looked back at his textbook.

“We have finals in a week, Todoroki! You really need to pay attention!” Midoriya scolded, and Shouto grimaced, looking back at his notes.

“I’m sorry, Midoriya, I was lost in thought.”

“Todoroki, forgive me for being so intrusive, but you should just tell her.”

If Shouto had been drinking, he would have spit it right out. “What?” he exclaimed, and swiveled his head to look at Midoriya, his cheeks flushed.

“You know, your crush on Y/N?” Midioriya prompted, bumping Shouto’s arm with his shoulder, chuckling at the dumbstruck look on his friend’s face. “What? Did you think I didn’t know? You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

“Well, you tend to be more observant than most people,” Shouto grumbled, and Midoriya shrugged, smiling. “Do you think…. Does she know?” Shouto asked, avoiding Midoriya’s eyes and doodling on the side of his paper to distract from the pounding in his chest.

“Eh, I doubt it, she doesn’t really seem like she does, she’s kind of oblivious,” Midoriya laughed, and Shouto opened his mouth to interject before Midoriya cut him off again. “I’m just kidding, Todoroki, calm down. But really, you should let her know how you feel. Do you really want to graduate without telling her? You two have been dancing around each other for the past three years, Todoroki, and I’m sure she’s waiting for you to make the first move.”

“If she even likes me back,” Shouto said, and turned back to his notes, trying to ignore the feelings threatening to spill over. Go away, he thought to himself, I’m not ready yet.

Midoriya didn’t answer, instead went back to talking about what he figured would be on the finals, and different techniques for their final practical exams. Shouto tried to listen, but his mind kept wandering back to you. How your soft, beautiful hair frames your face, how your eyes shine like a million stars when you look at him, how you make his heart beat faster than Iida’s Recipro Burst whenever you’re in the room. He lets his head fill with thoughts of you, your smile whenever you see him, your hair after you’ve just woken up after falling asleep during a movie night in the common area, sticking up all over the place, and he remembered tufts of it tickling his face as he carried you up to your room that night.

Shouto smiles down at the paper in front of him, and he wishes he had the courage to tell you what he really felt for you, wishes he could explain what you do to him, and lets his mind go back to thoughts of you, not even hearing Midoriya as he continues to talk about school.

𐇵𐇵𐇵

The lights in Gym Gamma were dimmed, and you stood next to the refreshment table underneath streamers and balloons that looked extremely half-assed. You wondered to yourself if Aizawa had done them, and a smile came to your face as you watched your friends dance. Kirishima was trying (and failing) to pull a reluctant Bakugou onto the dance floor with him. The drink in your hand was cold, the condensation on the side of the cup making your hand slick. You resisted the urge to wipe it on your dress, and took a sip, the cold drink calming you a bit. Smiling, you look out at your friends breaking it down on the dance floor, watching as they twirled and shimmied across the concrete.

Mina, all done up in a beautiful purple dress that hugged her curves perfectly, was dancing wildly in the center of the room, dragging a very stressed Jirou with her. You giggle at their expressions, Mina’s excited and full of life, Jirou’s conveying the silent message that she wanted to die. Mina had tried to get you to dance with her, but you had never been much of a dancer, and your friend knew better than to push.

So here you sat, a drink in your hand as you watched your classmates having fun while you tried to avoid social interaction. You weren’t quite sure what was wrong with you tonight. Normally you would be in the middle of all the action, a smile on your face. But tonight, it was different. Maybe it was the fact that you were graduating in a week, and you might not see these people who had become your best friends anytime soon. Or maybe it was because Shouto had been talking to Yaomomo for the last five minutes, even though you were over here alone. You knew it was silly to be jealous, he wasn’t yours. But you couldn’t help it, the envy ate at your heart, giving you a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Sighing, you tugged on the hem of your dress, the periwinkle fabric bunching up on your thigh. You had tried to look nice tonight, wearing the dress that you knew was Shouto’s favorite color, pinning your hair up away from your eyes, and you had even let Mina do your makeup. You had told yourself you were dressing up for you, but deep down you knew that wasn’t the case. What you really wanted was a reaction out of Shouto, you wanted his heterochromatic eyes to light up when he saw you, you wanted his cheeks to flush at the sight of you, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen.

Because he was still talking to Yaomomo, listening as she talked animatedly, her eyes bright under the overhead lights. Your stomach churned as he smiled at her, the same smile he gave you, and you felt the urge to run away, to leave. So you set your cup down on the table, and you did. You felt stupid, weak. He wasn’t your boyfriend, why wouldn’t he talk to Yaomomo? Even if he was your boyfriend, he would be allowed to talk to her, but it wouldn’t bother you as much, because if you were together, you would be standing next to him, holding his hand or smiling as his arm rested around your shoulders.

You pushed the door to the cool March air, stepping out into the night, the flickering fluorescent light above you mocking you. A tear slipped down your cheek, caressing the side of your face, leaving a warm track. You felt pitiful. Here you were, crying over a boy you were too much of a coward to tell how you felt.

You looked up at the sky, cursing the lights of the city from preventing you from seeing the stars. The stars were one of the things you missed most from back home. When you were a little girl, you would climb up onto the roof, and let yourself get lost in the story the constellations told until you were calm. You wished you were home right now, sitting at the table with your mom and your little Maeko, your sweet baby sister. It wasn’t very often that you really wanted to go home, but when you were nervous or sad, you always missed the open fields that spread out by your mother’s house, the wildflowers blowing everytime the wind blew.

You tried to calm yourself with memories of your home, trying to push Shouto out of your brain. You had almost successfully pushed the thoughts of him away when you heard the familiar rumble of his deep voice from beside you.

“Y/N?”

𐇵𐇵𐇵

Shouto had been talking to Yaomomo when he realized you were missing. He scanned the room for you, and felt his heart sink when he didn’t see you.

“Yaoyorozu,” he said, cutting her off as she started another tangent about the agency she was going to. “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

“Oh,” she replied, her face falling a bit, but quickly covered with a smile. “Sure, okay!”

“Thank you,” he said, and smiled at her before walking over to the refreshments table, where your abandoned drink sat, condensation slowly sliding down the side. Shouto saw your shoes sitting next to the table, and he smiled. You always seemed to prefer going around barefoot.

He looked around, and the backdoor caught his eyes, and he knew that was probably where you went. He knew you liked to feel the breeze on your face, that it always calmed you down. He pushed the door open, and turned, looking back and forth for you, before heading to the side of the building, where he saw you standing under a very old and flickering fluorescent light, your face turned towards the sky as tears leaked down your cheeks.

“Y/N?” he said lightly, and nearly lost his footing when you looked over at him. You looked breathtaking, and he realizes this is the first time he’s really seen you all night. Your hair is pinned up elegantly, away from your face, so he can see your beautiful tear-filled eyes. The periwinkle dress you’re wearing hugs you in all the right places, and falls just above your knee, and he lets his eyes wash over you. God, she looks so beautiful in periwinkle, he thought. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” you reply, and you look back to the sky, the cool breeze ruffling your hair.

He takes you in, the way your shoulders are hunched, how your brow is slightly furrowed, and your mouth is set in a small pout. I wish I knew how to tell her what I feel… he thought, and he let his head fill with memories of the two of you sitting in the kitchen after hours, sneaking cookies and drinking tea. He remembers when the two of you sat out in the rain, your quirk keeping them waterproof as you talked, completely uninterrupted, just spilling your thoughts. He thought about your hugs, you know he can’t resist your hugs, they're so warm, and he melts into them every time, wrapping his arms around you. You are his home, his safe place to go when he’s scared, when he needs a friend, when he needs to talk.

The memories flooding his mind cause the feelings to spill over, and the emotions he’s tried so hard to suppress start to push their way out. The feeling rushes over him in waves, and Shouto finally admits what he’s been trying to hide for so long.

He loves you.

“Y/N, I have something I need to tell you,” he says, his sudden realization giving him a burst of confidence. You turn to look at him, your eyes sad.

“Can I say something first?” you ask, and he nods. “Why didn’t you come over and talk to me?”

He’s taken aback a bit by your question, it’s definitely not what he expected you to say, but he hurries to answer it. “Well, I wanted to, but Yaoyorozu wouldn’t stop talking about her agency, and I couldn’t escape,” he laughs lightly, noting how you perk up when he says this, some of the sadness leaving your eyes. “Can I tell you something now?”

“Sure,” you reply, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

He takes a deep breath, and looks you directly in your eyes, the fluorescent light casting an odd glow on the two of you. “I think I’m in love with you,” he breathes, just loud enough for you to hear, and he shifts his gaze downward when he hears your sharp intake of breath. He’s afraid to look at you, he’s worried he’ll see the rejection he’s so afraid of in your eyes. Slowly, you make your way over to him, and you tilt his chin up lightly with your finger so his eyes meet yours. He prepares himself for the worst, but then he sees your face.

You’re smiling, and Shouto feels a stirring in his chest when he sees how bright your eyes are, shining with happiness. “What a coincidence, Sho’. I think I’m in love with you too,” you whisper, and he can’t take it anymore. He crashes his mouth against yours, and you kiss him back with just as much fervor, your fingers bury themselves in his hair, pulling him down against you. His hand finds the small of your back, and he pulls you as close as you possibly could be to him, holding you there, and cherishing this moment.

The two of you break apart, and smile at each other. Shouto tries to commit this moment to memory, your eyes bright, your lips slightly puffy from kissing him, your fingers still wound in his hair. The flickering of the fluorescent light casts shadows on your face, but they don't hide your breathtaking grin.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to do that,” you say softly, your hand moving to brush the hair out of his eyes.

He turns his face, and kisses the inside of your palm. “I’m sorry I was a coward,” he replies, and you both laugh, and he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug. When the two of you pull apart, and he takes your hand, silently promising to never let you go again, he vows to never let you slip away from him.

The two of you walk, hand in hand, big goofy smiles on your faces, into the gym, where your friends await you with a thousand questions. But neither of you mind, because all the both of you really wanted was to be together, and both of you wishes finally came true, under the broken fluorescent light behind Gym Gamma.

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha fanfic #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x you #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfic #under the fluorescent lights #ionlyspeakinmyheroacademia #fluffy #fluff #tooth rotting todoroki fluff #best friend mina #best friend midoriya #mha oneshot #bnha oneshots

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mork-lee-bee · 4 years

Text

Broken Lovers VI

Summary: Y/n is a hopeless romantic in love with someone who will never love her back and Jaehyun is helplessly in love with someone who only continues to hurt him over and over again, sounds like a match made in heaven right?

Pairings: CollegeStudent!Jaehyun X CollegeStudent!Y/N X CollegeStudent!Jaemin

Warnings: cursing,

Genre: angst/fluff/smut

Word count: 2.6 k

Masterlist

“Hey, ____?” Miyoung smiles sweetly and you know she wants something so you start to pack your books into your bag.

“I didn’t even say anything yet!” She defends but you knew what she wanted.

“No, but I know you, so just call me when you’re done,” you laugh and a deep red color floods her ears in embarrassment.

“Maybe I was just gonna ask you to go with me to get coffee!” She pouts but she was too dressed up for even coffee, she had a dark red lip and her eye shadow was a dark smokey eye.

“Just please don’t have him here too late, the library closes at 9,” you explained hoping she wouldn’t lose track of time and you’d be stuck having to figure something else to do until 2 am like a few nights in the past.

“I’ll try,” Miyoung smiles making sure you leave the building safely before she’s back upstairs getting ready. You were severely under-dressed for the colder weather at night as you could feel the cold air engulf your entire body, You shiver as you start to walk in the direction of the library on the campus. You and Miyoung happened to be in the newer dorms which were a blessing for the better facilities but were also further from the library. The cold air had a visible effect on you as your arms and legs were covered in goosebumps.

“She owes me,” You mumble under your breath almost jogging to try and keep semi-warm, which turned into an awkward cold sweat that just brought discomfort by the time you got to the Library after being exiled.

It was cold inside almost as cold as it was outside and without any hoodie or sweater you were miserable as you find a quiet corner to set up for studying, there weren’t many people but those that you saw were stressed and cramming or almost passed out trying to study.

Just as you got relaxed you could hear someone sobbing from behind a bookshelf, you could either move or try to ignore it, out of pure laziness you dig through your bag trying to find your headphones only to remember that you left them on your desk at the dorm. You wanted to bang your head on the table at how stupid it was but you resisted instead leaning back at staring up at the ceiling, the library wasn’t huge but it was decently big although it was filled with a bit of cold dead space.

You figured that you wouldn’t be able to focus with the sobs of the girl behind the shelf so you might as well look for a book to help with studies getting up and looking around at the shelves that towered way above you. You were in the History section by the looks at it as most of the books read something about-

“Oh shit,” You hear after bumping into someone and you falling backward extremely hard to the point the breath in your lungs is no longer there.

“Wait… _____?” You can barely see the person through the gathering tears in your eyes but the voice is very familiar as you attempt to blink the tears away while coughing and trying to regain your breath the sharp pain hard to get through.

“I’m so sorry,” The person bends down to your level on the ground and you could feel them mindlessly draw soothing circles on your back trying to help you calm down as he coaches through breathing.

“Fuck- That hurt,” You manage to get out through the breaths, coughs, and slight wheezing. You wipe the tears away that had gathered.

“I didn’t see you,” They try to explain which only makes you laugh slightly at how bad they felt.

“Honestly, it’s fine,” You promise placing your hand on theirs and finally looking over to see who had taken your breath away, literally.

“Jaehyun?” You manage to make out his features easily as a shy dimple smile crosses over his lips.

“You’re correct,” He pats you on the back as you’re slowly starting to be functional again.

“What are you doing here?” You manage to ask and in hindsight, it was a dumb question, a public library on a school night. clearly, he was here to study.

“Can’t a guy go to the library to read about…” He looks at the bottom shelf grabbing a book off the lowest shelf and reading the cover.

“The in-depth History of Psycho by Red Velvet,” Jaehyun scratches the back of his neck before placing the book back on the shelf.

“I mean, if that’s what you read about, I’m not judging,” You finally get to feeling better but your back was still in a bit of pain as Jaehyun gets up from right next to you.

“It’s not my favorite thing to do but, school work is school work,” He stretches lightly glancing down at where you’re sat on the ground looking up at him an all too familiar feeling pounding in your chest as you quickly scramble to stand with him although still in a bit of pain.

“What brings you to the library?” Jaehyun pulls you out of your thoughts but noticed how you reacted smiling to himself as you try to straighten yourself out fidgeting with the bracelet on your right wrist

“Roommate kicked me out for her own… business,” You try not to explicitly say oh you know my friend is getting laid so I’ve been exiled to the library to suffer.

“That’s something I like about having my own room in the frat,” Jaehyun admits and you can’t help but follow him around the maze of bookshelves like a lost puppy enamored by his personality.

“Yeah I can only imagine, the beauty of privacy,” You hadn’t had that in a while it felt like as on more than one occasion Miyoung loved to walk into the bathroom without knocking.

“And no one kicking me out of my room,” Jaehyun aimlessly walks occasionally running a finger along the spines of the books more focused on you of course as you let out a groan of jealously at the thought of being able to relax, while you did love Miyoung her presence could suffocate you with her constant late-night talks on the phone.

“God that sounds wonderful,” You pout thinking of the things you took for granted before.

“I mean sometimes it can be a bit… smelly,” You raise an eyebrow in confusion but a bunch of guys in one place is bound to create some kind of odor so you scrunch your nose in disgust.

“Every place has its ups and downs I guess,” You shrug not paying attention as Jaehyun stops suddenly which you run into him almost falling over again but he catches your arm keeping you held up before dragging you in the opposite direction you were headed suddenly, a bit confused but you follow regardless figuring he remembered why he was there and just dragging you to the correct section.

“Okay, where are we going now?” You question as he looks behind him occasionally as if trying to find something or someone else behind you, his eyes wouldn’t find yours as he looked past you almost like a ghost was there.

“Jaehyun?” You tug at his arm and planting your feet to the ground stalling him and dragging him out of his thoughts that seemed to cloud his mind and every single one of his senses.

“Sorry I was just…” His voice trails off as you see the worry in his eyes.

“Are you always so in your head? You don’t seem to be thinking in the present,” You offer a small smile as he touches the back of his neck nervously as you spot his ears redden slightly.

“Not usually,”

“Come on, let’s go get some ice cream,” You suddenly announce finally taking the lead and letting Jaehyun follow you which he does as he raises an eyebrow in confusion at the sudden change in action.

“Why?”

“Well, Ice cream makes everyone feel better, well at least that’s what my nephew says,”

“But don’t you need to study,” You laugh at this, any excuse not to study was the best.

“Originally, but I’m not in the mood to anymore,” You smile as you get to the spot where you had set up still untouched as you start to place things back into your bag to leave.

“Okay…” He watches you sling your bag over your shoulder before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the exit, whatever reason he had come to the library in the first place was now completely out of his mind.

You hadn’t realized how long you were actually in the library as you push the heavy door open to reveal the darkness of night, when you had arrived the sun was setting but now it felt colder as the slight breeze hit your exposed arms because of your t-shirt.

“Cold? We don’t have to get ice cream, we could get coffee or something warmer,” Jaehyun offers while letting your hand go and starting to take his hoodie off as soon as he noticed how your hands reached for your arms to warm yourself up.

“Nah, I’ve had way too much coffee today already,” You admit while he finishes slipping off his hoodie leaving him in a basketball Jersey which was even less coverage than you had.

“If you insist,” He hands you the still warm hoodie which you hesitate to take seeing he would be cold.

“Take it,” Jaehyun sees your hesitation insisting that you take it as you slowly grab it from him looking up at him with sad eyes.

“Won’t you be cold?” You point out sadly to which Jaehyun laughs smiling and ruffling your hair.

“You’re sweet for being so concerned but I’ll be fine it’s not a long walk to my car,” He assures you and it was obvious he wouldn’t be taking any no’s so you carefully slip on the dark grey hoodie suddenly engulfed by Jaehyun without him actually hugging you. The Orange smell hit your nose causing you to smile and the warmth engulfed your body with the soft fabric clinging to your body.

“Thank you,” You say before taking a step towards him and wrapping your arms around him hugging him which he returns setting his head on top of yours for a minute just enjoying you.

Eventually, you pull away as he takes the lead walking over to where he’s parked in the parking lot, dimly lit by the overhead street lights that would occasionally flicker.

The music on his playlist was nice, it was the type of music perfect for a calm relaxing night to yourself as he focused on driving humming along to the music lightly as if you weren’t even there sitting in the passenger seat staring at his side profile, his relaxed features made him look kind and approachable which brought you back to when you first met him, he was so angry and seemed so unlike the man in front of you now.

“Why?” You ask, a simple unfinished question as he glimpses over at you raising an eyebrow out of confusion.

“Why what?” He answers with another question,

“Why were you so mad when we met at that party?” You didn’t expect him to spill his entire life story or anything to you when you asked the question and he tensed, his once relaxed hands on the steering wheel held a tighter grip and you could see his veins stick out slightly more as you observed the gears turning in his head on an answer almost like he was looking at some kind of word search looking through the jumble of gibberish to find the right words.

“I was having a bad week and I didn’t feel in the mood for partying…” He admitted loosening up a bit and shaking his head as he pulled into the parking lot of Wayv Ice Cream Parlor Miyoung loved it because YangYang worked here but someone else was working tonight as Jaehyun opens the car door for you.

The little bell rings to alert the staff someone entered as soon as you pull Jaehyun into the small shop that felt all too familiar as you spot the person working look up and smile immediately.

“Kun!” You excitedly run over to the counter, the place was dead empty so it was nice to see a familiar friendly face as Jaehyun made his way over next to you as Kun start to make your usual request.

“Where’s Miyoung?” The man you had gawked at when you had first seen him working because of his visuals asks.

“She decided to stay at the dorm, this is Jaehyun,” You look over to the quiet guy next to you and nudge him to give his order as you take your card out to pay for the two ice creams.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Kun speaks candidly as your eyes widen as you turn to correct him.

“Oh, no we’re just friends,” You explain as Kun sets the two desserts down and pulls up the amount due.

“Yeah, we’re just- Hey!” Jaehyun notices how you’ve taken out your card to pay grabbing your wrist lightly to stop you as he slips his wallet out of his back pocket but he’s too late as you switch the hand the card is in and insert the chip watching as the transaction starts.

“Dang that’s too bad you’d be cute together,” Kun wiggles his eyebrows at you which Jaehyun doesn’t notice as he’s too bust shooting glares in your direction as you type the pin in.

“Thanks,” You smile at Kun before picking up the two ice creams and going to sit at one of the two people seating arrangements setting the two ice creams down and smiling at Jaehyun who still looks at you angrily.

“Jae, why are you so mad?” You sit down leaning forward head resting in your hand as you look at him.

“I should have paid for it,” Jaehyun pouts as you roll your eyes and hold up three fingers for the three points you’re about to make.

“One, it was my idea, two you drove, three you let me borrow your hoodie. The least I could do was pay for the ice cream,” You point out before grabbing your plastic spoon and digging in smiling at the sugary taste.

“Fine but next time I’m paying,” He determines as your mind starts to think about his word choice Next time? There’s going to be a next time?

“We’ll see,” You wink sticking your tongue out before another spoonful of ice cream causes you to grip your head in pain at the sudden brain freeze.

“What kind did you get?” You look over to the ice cream he got trying to finger it out, could it be rocky road? Coffee? Chocolate? There are so many flavors it makes it difficult. Yours was obvious with the bit of Oreo crumbs that sat on top.

“Guess,” He smiles as he picks up another spoonful holding it out for you to taste as you lean forward and eating the small spoonful of Ice cream before thinking and contemplating the taste.

“Chocolate?” You tilt your head trying to guess.

“Yup!” he says proudly.

“You’re basic,” You roll your eyes before taking a bite of your own ice cream happily.

“Can I enjoy ice cream without being harshly judged?” Jaehyun glares before digging his spoon into your ice cream and taking a bite letting out a small Mmmmm at the delicious taste.

“No!” You glare holding your ice cream closer to you he can’t steal anymore.

“But it’s good!” He pouts as your phone dings with a notification which you check and see Miyoungie Pop up with the message You can return now!

“After we’re finished can you take me back to my dorm?” You plead with Jaehyun who agrees to as long as you let him eat more of your ice cream to which you groan in response.

“FINEEEE,” You pout as he smiles his dimples very prominent as he steals another bite.

----------

it may be late but it’s done :)

Next chapter up on 8/19

Tag List (Let me know if you want to be added):

❤️ @yourchasingsunsets ❤️ @Justineasian ❤️ @Captainsjoongs ❤️ @theworld-accordingtocasey ❤️ @yee-hawwwwwwww ❤️ @renjunstarlight ❤️ @soothingjae ❤️

I had a job interview today and I’m nervous to find out if I got the job or not and i do updates are gonna be less frequent :/

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crash-cinematic-universe · 4 years

Text

Home

pairing: Peter Maximoff/reader

summary: Peter Maximoff wants to feel at home.

Song: Home by Cavetown

Warnings: insecurity issues, abandonment issues

other notes: holy fuck, i’m really proud of this one. Peter Maximoff deserves the world and I’m determined to give it to him.

(gif is not mine, credit to @shhh-no-ones-home)

________________________________________________________________

Often I am upset that I cannot fall in love but I guess

This avoids the stress of falling out of it

Peter remembers the days he spent in his mother’s basement, lying on his bed absentmindedly staring at the ceiling. He remembers the crippling feeling of loneliness, the fear he felt during those late nights, the anger that festered in him every day he was alone. He didn’t believe in love-- at least, he didn’t think he could ever love or be loved. Of course, he loved his mother and his sisters, that was a given, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was dragging them down. He couldn’t shake the idea that he was a leech, a loser that was so emotionally drained all the time that he still lived in his mother’s basement at the age of 27. He didn’t think he really deserved love. Sometimes he made excuses for his feelings; every rom-com involves heartbreak, after all, and if he never fell in love he’d never have to feel that. But Peter couldn’t help but yearn for someone to love him, even if it did involve a bit of heartbreak. All Peter wanted was to feel at home.

Are you tired of me yet?

I'm a little sick right now but I swear

When I'm ready I will fly us out of here

Peter remembers the day he met you. He remembers the way you smiled at him when he introduced himself, and the way butterflies erupted in his stomach and the way his heart skipped a beat any time you looked his way. He suddenly felt the need to be close to you, the urge to have you pay attention to him and only him. He got scared, scared that he was being too clingy, too needy, scared that you’d get sick of him and run away like everyone else. He may be the fastest man on Earth, but he could never keep up with those who ran away from him. He waited for the day that you’d snap, the day that you’d confess that he’s been nothing but a bother and a burden and that you wanted nothing to do with him. That day never came. Peter soon saw his fears grow into something much bigger. He was absolutely terrified of the fact that he was falling in love with you. The scariest part? He started to believe that you were falling in love with him, too.

(Mmm) I'll cut my hair

(Mmm) To make you stare

(Mmm) I'll hide my chest

And I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

Ooh, Ooh, Ooh, Ooh

Peter remembers his schemes, his elaborate plans and stunts done only to get your attention. He remembers the day he walked into your classroom with bright red hair, he recalls the flabbergasted look on your face that preceded your faux cries of pain. He quickly dyed his hair back to it’s original silver hue the moment he realized you didn’t like it. He always finds himself smiling whenever he thinks of the way you stroked his hair the day it went from red to silver, the soft stroke of your gentle hands as you whispered into his ear. He leaned into your touch, and for a second, he wasn’t afraid of being in love. That was only for a second though, and the dreadful thoughts and beliefs that he was on borrowed time returned. He figured the only way to stay sane was to stay away from you. He soon discovered that being away from you was much, much worse than being afraid.

Turn off your porcelain face

I can't really think right now and this place

Has too many colors, enough to drive all of us insane

Peter remembers the strong feeling of being completely overwhelmed. He remembers how many things he felt whenever he got too close to you. He always seemed confused, yet content. The mansion, however, was a different story. It never stopped being overwhelming, it sometimes got so bad that he had to find a corner and hide away for a while; he needed to shut off his brain. There were days where it got really bad, and Peter would refuse to leave his room, collapsing under the pressure of being an X-Man, of being a mutant, of just being Peter Maximoff. He thought he was going insane-- he really believed that he wouldn’t make it. But then you’d be there to comfort him, to keep him grounded in reality for a while, and he’d be all right.

Are you dead?

Sometimes I think I'm dead

Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head

But I don't wanna fall asleep just yet

Peter remembers the times he spent with you in your room. He remembers the way he’d lay his head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat as you’d gently stroke his hair and listen to the rain. He’d always been so hesitant when it came to physical affection; Peter was unimaginably touch starved yet so convinced that he didn’t deserve affection that he avoided it overall. Once he did allow physical affection, he couldn’t get enough of it. He was always craving it, always desperate to feel your skin on his. He relished every touch like it was the last, he lived in the warmth that you radiated for as long as he could each night because he was so very afraid that he’d be cold again. It was heaven. Every morning that he woke up in your arms felt like a dream, and he often wondered if he actually was dead. He wondered if a mission had gone south and he’d been sent to heaven where he could be with you forever. Every night he was afraid to fall asleep, he was so very afraid that you’d be gone when he woke up. He always fell asleep with a tight grip on you, pulling you as close as possible. Almost as if you were going to disappear.

(Ooh) My eyes went dark

(Ooh) I don't know where

(Ooh) My pupils are

But I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

Peter remembers the feeling of utter emptiness the first time you fought. He remembers the shame he felt when you walk away from him, but he felt a dreadful, crippling fear overtake him more so than shame. He’d been reckless on a mission, he’d gotten too cocky during a fight and it almost cost him his life. He remembers seeing you walk into the hospital wing of the mansion and he remembers how horrible he felt when you started crying. He remembers how disappointed in him you were, how worried you seemed. Neither of you shouted, no voices were raised, but your words hurt worse than yelling ever could. You weren’t mean, no, you were concerned. You expressed how much you cared for him, how badly you wanted him to be happy and safe. He pushed you away, and the moment you left the room he broke down. Hank thought he was in pain due to his injuries, and Peter was too embarrassed to admit what he was crying about. He went to sleep cold that night.

Get a load of this monster

He doesn't know how to communicate

His mind is in a different place

Will everybody please give him a little bit of space?

Peter remembers the first time he discovered his mutation. He remembered running down the street with his friends and before he knew it he was 30 miles away from his house. Sometimes, when he sleeps, he hears their screams. They all called him a mistake, an abomination, a monster. After a while, he started to believe it. His friends all ran away, and Peter resided in the basement from then on. He did everything he could to be liked, to be accepted; he hid his mutation, broke 8 world records, hell, he even went to the Olympics and won. They had taken away his medals once they found out he was a mutant, recounted his records, and exposed him to the world. He shut himself off from the world, believing that all he’d ever be was a failure. An unlovable, mutant, monster.

Get a load of this train wreck

His hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet

But little do we know, the stars

Welcome him with open...

Peter remembers the days where the shame consumed him. He remembers the tears he shed alone in his basement. His intrusive thoughts and insecurities couldn’t be drowned out by any of his Pink Floyd songs. His past failures and disappointments couldn’t be diminished by his high scores he got on his stolen Ms. Pacman machine. There were days where he wished he could be anyone else. He projected himself onto the characters on his T.V. and in his video games. He adopted the personalities of all his favorite characters until he was a shadow of his former self, a mangled bunch of nothing that couldn’t cover up what Peter was. He got so confused, losing touch with who he was until he couldn’t tell the difference. He lost sight of where the fiction ended and Peter began. It was all so ironic, he was so desperate to be anyone other than Peter Maximoff and when he got his wish, he wanted nothing more than to be himself again. The shame only grew from there.

Get a load of this monster

He doesn't know how to communicate

His mind is in a different place

Will everybody please give him a little bit of space?

Peter remembers the first time he saw you use your mutation. He remembers the way you moved through the air and sent little bursts of energy across the room. In that moment, Peter didn’t see you as a monster. He didn’t think you were unlovable or evil or a mistake. He thought you were amazing. He thought you were extravagant. He felt a swell of pride as you bested Warren in a fight, he loved you with all of his heart. It didn’t matter to him that you were a mutant-- he loved you regardless. That’s when he realized real love can’t be lessened or dampened by something as futile as a mutation. Peter realized everyone who called him a monster didn’t really care about him. He stopped thinking about them and started thinking about how much he loved you, how he’d lay down his life for you. Suddenly, Peter wasn’t so afraid.

Get a load of this train wreck

His hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet

But little do we know, the stars

Welcome him with open arms.

Peter remembers the day that he realized he didn’t have to hide anymore. He remembers the way you’d told him he had nothing to be ashamed of. You had looked him in the eyes and told him you fell in love with Peter Maximoff, the clumsy, caring, gentle, kindhearted man that he was. You fell in love with Peter Maximoff and all of his hurt and insecurities and fears and shame. You fell in love with Peter Maximoff and his great taste in music and his unique sense of humor and his amazing ability to best anyone at Pacman. You fell in love with Peter Maximoff, the silver mutant who had previously believed he didn’t deserve love and that no one could ever really love him. You fell in love with Peter Maximoff and for the first time in his life, Peter wasn’t ashamed to be Peter Maximoff anymore.

Time is

Slowly

Tracing his face

But strangely he feels at home in this place

Peter is a bit older now, and so are you. Peter loves to look back on his life every now and then just to see how far he’s come. Peter isn’t ashamed, nor is he afraid. He’s content. He’s happy. He’s unashamedly himself. He’s married. He’s married to the first person he’s ever loved. He’s married to the only person who made him unafraid of love. He’s married to the only person who could keep him grounded when everything got too overwhelming. He’s married to the person who always kept him warm when he slept. He’s married to the person who only ever wanted him to be safe and happy. He’s married to the first person who made him unafraid. He’s married to the only person who showed him that being Peter Maximoff wasn’t a bad thing. He’s married to the only person who ever made him feel at home.

#peter maximoff #evan peters #xmen #xmen fanfiction #quicksilver #cavetown #home #xmen imagine #xmen songfic #songfic #pietro maximoff #peter maximoff x reader

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writerfangirlbooks · 4 years

Text

Bobby’s Daughter Part 1

Dean x Y/N

Prompt: Imagine flirting with Dean Winchester before he finds out you're Bobby's daughter.

A/N: I know Bobby never had children, but let's imagine for now. I've got a cool idea, for the most part, to go with this prompt. As always, feel free to request any ideas you would like me to write! I've had quite a few Dean ones recently and even more coming up soon. Thanks for sticking with me. Also, I just can't write a story without a backstory, I just need it desperately haha, so enjoy this midnight mess. And uhh, this one gets a little steamier than the others, just a heads up. Also this one is getting multiple parts! Word Count: 1800

Credit to gif owner!

It took you long enough to convince your dad to so much as let you hunt by yourself.

You heard the story of your mom once, and only once. Your dad hated discussing what happened to her. It broke his heart, losing the love of his life. Bobby often declared he didn't know what he would do without you, that you being born was a blessing and miracle tied into one burst of joy in this miserable man's life. That was quite a bit to live up to. Fortunately, you weren't stuck with him all of the time. Once he stopped homeschooling you, you were able to have real interactions and get to know the real world.

Every once and a while, a friend of your father would drop his sons off at the doorsteps to watch for endless amounts of time. Sure, the boys were a couple of years younger, but at least they never said you had cooties. They were excited to be with Uncle Bobby, though they weren't related. It occasionally made you doubt your place in his heart, wondering if he wished you had been born a son instead. However, it was nice to not be made fun of not having a mom and having a drunkard for a father. You saw the brothers young and at one point, hadn't seen them since. It wasn't uncommon for traveling hunters to occasionally leave their children for a weekend or two, so you didn't easily remember all of their names.

Growing up a female was tricky in small-town Iowa, even more so as a hunter. Your father spent some time away hunting when things began to go awry in nearby towns. You started public middle school around age eleven, but your father feared you were simply too young to spend nights by yourself, and you didn't exactly have a bunch of friends to spend the nights at. That ended up causing extra frustration and stress on his plate before you suggested an idea you watched on television: private school.

In a way, Bobby was a better father after you went away. You became more outgoing, learned what it meant to be a lady, and more importantly, how to use that to your advantage. You were encouraged to learn other languages, try extracurriculars. So you did, studying Spanish and French for the rest of your education. You joined the photography club, acted in theatre, and played soccer. You went home on holiday breaks, summer being your favorite as it meant spending more time with your dad. He did his best to be home as often as possible. You got excited to fix cars if it meant spending time with him. Despite his protests, you felt encouraged to hunt, so he gave you pointers. It was years before around age sixteen, he finally allowed your first solo hunt. It was thrilling and unsurprisingly, it went great. He preferred playing board games and watching television with you, making him overall pretty chill.

The one thing he was not a cool dad came to your dating life. You tried getting a boyfriend young and Bobby insisted on meeting him before your first dance. Let's just say the two of you didn't leave together by the end of the night. He was more lenient toward regular, mediocre guys. His one rule was the most adamant: don't date hunters. Fortunately enough for you, most hunters were around your dad's age, so, very much not your type.

That could lead to some very lonely tonights as you became an adult, leading to one night stands in apartments. Of course, you skipped past the whole college scene. Far too expensive and not something you seemed interested in, anyway. Despite your father's protests, you decided to spend time traveling rather than staying with him. You had gotten used to your independence and was somehow nearing thirty way too quickly. You considered yourself content in life. You were a darn good hunter, a woman that could hold her alcohol, and a successful freelance photographer. You weren't sure where your dad's income came from and you decided it best not to ask, sticking to making an honest living while hunting as often as possible.

It was late summer and Bobby's birthday was coming up soon. Although he hated celebrating, you made sure to be around during this time. It just so happened to coincide with a case you were tracking. You figured you would surprise him tomorrow evening and make his favorite dinner. For now, though, you rented a small apartment half an hour away. You felt motels were dirty and a bit pathetic. You did have some class, after all.

Tonight you were looking for a good time, clothed in one of your favorite dresses, with matching heels and handbag. You headed to the bar, pulled up a chair, and ordered your favorite margarita. Soon enough, a man's build and shadow blocked your view of the door. He cleared his throat and you turned your head, taking in the view of messy brown hair and mischievous green eyes attached to a face full of sun-kissed freckles. The man wore nothing special, just regular jeans and a plaid shirt layered with a hunter-green jacket. It was a look that fits well in Iowa, but his voice showed quickly he was not raised here.

"Not a beer girl, huh?" He asked, raising an eyebrow towards your bright colored drink. You did a quick assessment and deemed this man as not a threat. He could be just what you were looking for. As you began to speak, you watched his attentive gaze dip from your eyes to your lips then back again.

"Not quite my style. I like something a little sweeter," you said with a small smile. Leaning back in your chair, you aimlessly twirled the straw around in your drink as you looked back up to the handsome stranger.

He draped an arm around your chair, his fingers lightly brushing your shoulders in the process. "Then feel free to call me sugar, sweetheart," he said. His eyes crinkled with the flirty grin. You wanted to laugh at what a bad line it was but figured his looks could make up for a lacking game. You bit back your smile by licking your lips and tacking a long sip of your drink.

"Well, I don't know about that, but you can call me Y/N," you offered.

The conversation quickly led into basic first date questions, leading you and the man who later introduced himself as Dean to realize you had quite a few similarities, such as bands, landmarks, and even pies. Neither of you was able to persuade the other to change interest in alcohol. Once you got to the topic of cars, you had lost track of time. Dean claimed to have an older Impala and was eager to show you. You were used to the ploys of cool cars to get a woman outside, but you weren't objecting to where the night was headed. You were left intrigued and somewhat shocked that someone this good looking was actually telling the truth about having such a well kept and beautiful vehicle. You were hoping to get the chance to impress him with your own knowledge about cars at some point if things actually made it past three am leavings, which was typically not likely.

When Dean proposed the invitation, he noticed your response was less than immediate. You didn't mean to hesitate but was trying to work out to tell him how you did not feel comfortable leaving your own car in the bar parking lot. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly. It typically wouldn't have been that noticeable except behavior change was something you studied in school when taught how to create poses for your photos. His green eyes were bright and eager, reflecting from the yellow lights outside of the bar.

"I, uh, if you're not interested... we don't have to..." Dean began stuttering, changing pace. He must not be used to rejection, you decided. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

You took one of Dean's hands, finding the new change endearing. Although it could've been funny to turn down someone that seemed like a player and innate flirter, that was not your plan for tonight. "Dean, I'm fine. I just don't like to leave my car, so if you want to follow, or go with me, back to my place?" You offered. You tilted your head, waiting for an answer.

He nodded. His grin had returned widely and he used his other hand to indicate for me to lead the way. And off Dean and you went. The two of you stumbled into your apartment in half the time it should have taken you to get back. Dean's chatter filled your ears up until you unlocked the door to your room.

Your keys were tossed onto the television stand while shoes were being kicked off against the closet door. Heat filled the room as your bodies filled the bed, disregarding your clothes and newness to one another. You felt much more connected as Dean kissed you, a sense of familiarity in his warmth and scent. It began with an intense and heavy makeout before his lips left yours, and began to trail down your neck, continuing further as time ticked away. The clock on the wall was the only sound you could hear besides your ragged breathing and the squeaks of the bed. The sheets were too weak for your grip, so you moved your nails into his back. You could feel his smiles trace your skin. You couldn't help but shudder when Dean whispered into your ear. It was a beautifully messy sight, watching Dean and you move as one, clinging to one another. Your eyelids fluttered, unsure of where to focus as the sensations grew stronger. Arching your head back to allow more room elsewhere, you thought you had lost your voice before one simple movement reminded you how to speak, urging you to call out Dean's name.

The night carried on for much longer.

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