#i mean he does have a soulmate in sight he's just stupid but hey | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yuri-is-online · 7 months

Note

Congratulations on your 500 Followers!🎉 Hope you will grow more! I would like to choose the number 1 prompt, "Someone decides to ask you for your opinion about someone, and you decide to take advantage of your anonymity to admit your feelings. For some reason this flusters them."

For Jack, Sebek and Silver please

1. Someone decides to ask you for your opinion about someone, and you decide to take advantage of your anonymity to admit your feelings. For some reason this flusters them.

Thank you very much friend! I really hope this is to your liking, and I really hope that you continue to find things that entertain you posted to this account.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, mutual pining, I find Jack really hard to write for because of his whole soulmate thing but please know he loves Yuu so fucking much he is in pain, Sebek thinks he's slick, and Silver is oblivious to a lot. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist.

Jack

There is a distressing lack of fluffy tails within your line of sight in the ballroom this evening. A feeling has been growing within you these past few months, similar to a crush but so intense it makes you want to fall over with the strength of your longing. You have no idea if Jack feels the same, he has continued to treat you with the same degree of feigned indifference he's held you at since the day you met.

And now he has left you all alone in the middle of a ballroom full of people that very much aren't him. Well that's how you feel it's not like you made any sort of concrete agreement to meet up beyond the typical first year friend group "hey let's all get together" texts that always populated your group chat when the school hosted events like this. You suppose your feet were always going to hurt at an event like this, but you had been hopeful that your heart wouldn't ache as well.

"Come here often?" A strange strangled voice asks, clearly trying to break the ice and not at all serious. You are both leaning against a pillar after all.

"Not really." Your stomach is still firmly in your throat, this person is massive and you see no sign of the comforting ears and tail of a wolf. "You?"

"Nope." And though neither of you make much a move to keep the conversation moving, you don't move to leave either despite the growing awkward aura around you both. You look out across the ballroom, eyes drawn towards Leona desperately searching for a sign. Your strange new friend takes note, he also seems to be looking at Leona. "Not afraid of staring are, you?"

"Is that what it looks like?" You ask slightly distressed.

"Most people just tuck tail and run when they see Savanaclaw." He almost sounds disgusted, but you can't quite tell with who. "I'm surprised you can stand to look."

"I've got good friends in Savanaclaw." You huff. Sure there's a chance this guy doesn't mean anything by what he's saying, but this is NRC. There is a much bigger chance that he does.

"Oh? Like who, Jack Howl?" This bitch-

"No." You cross your arms. "Friends don't make you want to explode."

"... I'm sorry?" The strange man apologizes, and it really does sound like he means it if the way he's scratching the back of his head is anything to go by. Unfortunately you have been sitting on these stupid feelings all night and really need them out in front of someone who isn't Grim, seven knows he doesn't care.

"Seriously like- wolf beastmen have only one soulmate? Forever? So it doesn't matter how I feel I just- never have a chance like ever. Ever ever ever, he's just always going to see me as some annoying hanger on- well maybe not annoying because I actually put in an effort you know?" The captive audience doesn't nod but that's ok, you just keep charging on. "And I know he appreciates that because his tail wags every time one of us do and it's so cute to watch."

"'m not cute."

"But that just doesn't matter he's got somebody already he just hasn't met them yet and I don't even know the right music to try and get rid of my feelings to. It's not like I can just ask him out and hope rejection will make the feelings go away because there is just no way he would be like in anyway nice about it-"

"What if you were that person though?" The stranger's voice is so strangled it's almost recognizable, and it successfully snaps you out of your stupor.

"But I'm not." You want to scream it, but it comes out so very quietly. "He was really clear about that, he'd just know."

"I'm stupid. I mean he is. Stupid. And you're human, maybe the feeling's different because there's a chance for rejection. It's not like humans always have soul mates." A dull silence falls over you both. Unease working it's pesky way back into both of your minds.

Not all humans have soul mates, but you most certainly do. Just... give him a moment, a ball is not his scene. But later when you're all alone, traipsing your way through the woods towards that lonely cottage there will be a wolf primed to strike. Just why did he ever worry Jack wonders, glad for the mask hiding his grin, he knew he only needed to be lucky once.

Sebek

"Just what is your opinion on Malleus anyway?" Sebek tells himself he is asking you this for safety reasons. It's a question he has asked you before, just louder and with force enough to "blow down a barn door" to quote Epel, but this damn mask had a mockingly fitting enchantment that pitched his voice down and quieted it the more he tried yelling. He almost sounded like he was impersonating Jade, something that would likely deeply amuse the strange upperclassmen and seems to have a soothing effect on you. Not that he was jealous!

"Tsunotarou and I are bros." Yuu puts up what Master Lilia had told him was a "peace sign" and "extremely cute" but makes him seethe with rage and actual jealousy, not whatever that sickening feeling he'd had before was.

"You are not." The mask makes his dull roar sound like a middle aged mother gleefully scolding her friend for buying a particularly saucy pair of heels and not the justified rage of a royal retainer. "If you are bros just what does that make you to his retainers hmmmm?" That makes Yuu falter for some reason, mouth moving before the words are fully formed like they are considering hiding something.

That scares him. Because it compromises his lord's safety. Obviously.

"Well, I think Lilia's super cool." An objectively true statement human. A bit sparse on the praise but then what use would Master Lilia have for a human's praise? It would be better spent on him anyway. "He's really smart and happy to talk about what he knows, even if he lies about things sometimes, gotta have fun with yourself sometimes I guess. Silver is a bit dense, but he tries so hard you have to respect him for it." Again Sebek finds himself agreeing with Yuu, but the praise stings for some reason. It's minimal, but he supposes Yuu's avoidance of addressing the issue- not that they are he supposes, they may have stopped speaking but he doesn't think they intend to not give an opinion about him.

"And Sebek?" But he prods for it anyway because he wants it. He knows himself, he is not exactly ashamed of himself but Sebek knows you would never tell him the full truth of your opinion to his face. He can't even call Yuu by their name, why should they-

Sigh, like a besotted Princess in a fairy tale, play with the edges of their cape like a Prince questioning his propriety in voicing his desires but unable to swallow their emotion-

"He's really something else." You mean it, not that you are too sure why you feel like telling this stranger your deepest secret or why you chose to phrase it like a complaint. But the compliment suits Sebek like that you think. And the stranger doesn't stop you. "Knights are sort of out of fashion where I'm from but I've always liked them, and Sebek's the perfect image of one you know? I just wish there was some room in his heart for someone other than Malleus... not that I think his devotion's a bad thing y'know? I just- want to be treasured by a knight too."

"Just a knight?" The stranger asks. "Silver's there too I suppose."

"Nah he's not really my type." You shrug. "I like my guys a little pathetic. Look-" You barely notice the familiar way the stranger splutters as you bow to signal your exit. "I gotta go get Grim before he lights the place on fire, if you see Sebek tell him I'm looking for him? I want to dance with him at least once I just know he's good at it." And with that they're gone leaving an extremely competent and not at all pathetic thank you very much! Flustered mess of a man behind them.

Silver

"Oh hello Prefect." You have no idea who this student is but it is not unusual for people to know who you are given everything that's happened at this stupid school since you accidentally enrolled. "Nice to see you are enjoying yourself, the rolls are really good." And he is not judging you for the amount of bread you have in front of you so as far as you are concerned he can stay.

"They really are." You nod sagely, offering your new friend some of your hoard which he happily accepts as you both turn towards the ballroom to people watch. "I shouldn't be surprised at how good the food is, but somehow I always am." The stranger nods ruefully.

"I know what you mean. After eating so much of fa- Lillia's cooking you forget what things are supposed to taste like sometimes." Oh so this guy is in Diasomnia then? You'll have to compliment Tsunotarou later, this guy is super polite.

"Yeah I can see that, it makes feel bad for Silver sometimes what with how close those two are." You continue munch on your bread, too caught up in the fluffiness of it to notice how the "stranger" pauses, a thought forming in his mind he is sure to regret later but is unable to fully resist.

To long is human, which he is, painfully so.

"Do you think about Silver often?" He hopes he sounds playful, you fluster, looking the man up and down wondering if maybe Lilia has decided to alter his appearance to tease you some.

"More often than I should." Even if this is Lilia, it's not like anyone can really mock you for this can you? It's a Masquerade Ball, you're allowed to spill your guts to a stranger and reasonably expect nothing to come of it. Hell, just because this guy's in Diasomnia doesn't mean he'll say anything. "He's hard to ignore you know?"

"Not really." Silver picks at the bread, half hoping you will drop the topic, half agonizing about how to feel if you do. "He... doesn't have the best reputation in our dorm. People think he's too intense."

"Hmmm." You can see why, people who lack facial expressions often find themselves failing to express their intent. "That doesn't bother me." Oh he could practically soar, his whole body straightens in pride when you say that. "Silver is one of the few people I feel truly safe and... well sometimes I feel cherished around him. But I don't want to put pressure on him since we aren't even really friends I don't think."

"Why wouldn't you be?" He is deeply confused, he knows Lilia's advice is always coached in jokes but Silver didn't think the flowers he asked his animal friends to find would hinder his progress too badly. You were even wearing them tonight, it was how he found you, so it's not like you hated them... right? "I- He cares about you, I mean you know that right?"

"Maybe." Is all you say, eyes looking for someone in the crowd that's sat right next to you oh so painfully unaware- "But if I said I liked him would he even know what I meant? Would he still want to be friends... if..."

"Of course he would." Silver means it, but somehow he feels like he is missing something. The weight of your hand maybe, as you leave the "stranger" in search of... well he hopes "Silver" because if he knew you loved him, because he thinks that was what you meant maybe he wouldn't want to be just friends.

Best friends maybe? He'll have to ask Li- his father later.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jack howl x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #silver x reader #500 followers celebration #idk if anyone reads my tags but uh #just haven't met you yet/bewitched/once upon a dream was the set list for these three #every time i write for silver ouad has to be on #it's just law

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every-marveler-ever · 2 years

Text

How Do You Meet A Soulmate?

Flufftober Day 18 | @flufftober | Soulmate AU

IronStarnge Bingo Round 3 | 🏥 @ironstrangebingo | Soul Mates

Tony Stark Bingo Mark VI | 😒 @tonystarkbingo | Drunk Dialing/Wrong Number

masterlist :: (ao3 link)

A/N: This seems stupid because there feels like there is a whole chunk missing from the middle but at the same time I love it. I didn’t want to make it complicated or have Tony feel dreaded over this soulmate, I just wanted them to meet.

Can a wrong number really lead to meeting your soulmate? | tony stark/stephen strange

flufftober 2022 | tsb 😒 mark vi | isb 🏥 round 3

Tony: Hey I really need help on this stupid assignment I have no idea what I’m doing for Bishop’s classes xxxx-xxx-xxx: Um I think you have the wrong number? I don’t know a Bishop Tony: Are you not my project member for Rhodes's class? Tony: We have to do that film analysis and understand the make way of generational discussion in media xxxx-xxx-xxx: Sorry no, I’m a med student Tony: Oooh fancy, and does the med student have a name? Stephen: Uh Stephen Strange, what do you do? Tony: Tony, engineering specifically in med tech Stephen: What are you doing in a film class? Tony: My friend's mum teaches the class, it’s just some fun. Tony: Sorry by the way.

It is weird to Tony that this random man whom he shouldn’t even know has more impact on his life than his actual film class partner who he actually talks to on a daily basis. Despite how sorry Tony might say he is to Stephen he doesn’t really mean it because Stephen is the first breath of fresh air Tony feels like he has had since meeting Rhodey.

The college hasn’t been what he thought it would be, he thought he’d meet new people, especially being at MIT there are people everywhere, maybe even meet his soulmate for the first time, and maybe his stupid tattoo would go away, but college hasn’t been that for him.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Rhodey asks walking into their shared dorm room and watching as Tony spins around continuously on his wheely desk chair. It’s not an unusual sight, it’s what Tony does when he’s thinking up a big idea, normally for a test or paper. This is somehow different though, maybe the look on his face, or the fact that he’s hiding his arm. Rhodey squints at his best friend, “you lost your soul mark?” He questions staring at Tony’s forearm.

Turning around to Rhodey he nods, “no idea how I lost it, don’t know who I’ve interacted with today that I don’t normally interact with because even the barista I talked to today is the same guy.” He sounds annoyed because he is annoyed, soulmates have always annoyed Tony with the idea that some connection could pull two people together, some universal connection. There is absolutely no science behind soulmates, there’s no idea of how they ever existed.

Rhodey feels bad for Tony sure but yet he can’t figure out what to say, so instead he apologises, “I’m sorry.”

He has messaged Steohen every day for the last 2 months, and Stephen is here in Masshecutes. He has been right here since the first message. Tony is staring at him across the convention hall and he has no idea how he knows it’s him but he does.

So he messages the man.

Tony: Are you in Massachusetts? Stephen: Yeah, that’s where I go to med school Stephen: Why? Tony: I think you are my soulmate

Tony walks towards Stephen and he has no idea how he knows but the man he is walking to is frowning at his phone, eyebrows creased as if a man just confessed to him that they were soulmates. A man he doesn’t even know.

Tony: Look up.

Stephen’s mark disappears, and Tony watches saying the same words he just messaged out loud, “look up.” He never believed any of the ridiculousness that once you know, you know, the universe will tell you and sparks will fly. As Stephen looks into his eyes for the first time Tony believes it all, that it is possible. Maybe soulmates aren’t such a bad thing.

Cards:

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prettierthanurbf · 2 years

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Eddie Munson’s Girl

“Come on, Eddie, just a little further.” You urged, pulling him along the forest trail leading deeper into it.

He groaned. “I thought deer just prance around the forest.”

“No, Eddie. They’re over here. Haven’t you ever seen Snow White?” You hissed, looking around with your camera ready.

He sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“You’re helping me.” You said, still pulling him along.

He stopped abruptly, making you look where you were going, gasping lightly at the sight of a pretty deer and her baby. “Don’t make any sudden movements, E.” You warned, taking out your camera and snapping a picture. “Shit.” You mumbled, snapping the second picture quickly.

Eddie leaned against a fallen tree. “You got your pictures… can we go now?”

“Oh come on.” You whined. “Let’s walk a little more in. I’m sure there’s more deer.”

“You got two good pictures, y/n. Let’s go.” He urged with a sweet smile.

You took the hand he held out and let him lead you back out of the forest. “You’re lame.” You muttered.

“You love me anyways.” He muttered back.

When you guys got back to his trailer, he rushed to his guitar, calling it all the stupid, cheesy pet names he calls you.

You sat down at his table and pulled out your black nail polish from off the window sill. “Hey, E! Come here!”

He kissed his guitar one last time. “Sorry, my princess called me.” Then he hurried to where you were and sat across from you. “What’s up, love?”

“Can I paint your nails.” You looked at him with puppy dog eyes, holding the nail polish up. “We’ll be matching.”

He smiled, holding out his hand. “Of course. Hey, can you draw that eye you drew on the back of your hand a while ago? I thought it was cool.”

“Yes.” You said excitedly, pulling his hand closer to paint them. “So, tell me what’s new with all the D&D stuff.”

“So, Dustin brings in Erica Sinclair, right? And I’m standing there like “does this guy think this is a joke? is this babysitters club or something?”, but I was proven wrong, baby. She was cool. I didn’t think I’d ever agree with a literal baby, but there I was, listening and nodding to everything she said. Every move she made, I would’ve done, too.”

“I think you found your soulmate, babe.” You teased.

He laughed. “No, no. I’ve already found her.” He gave you a sweet look that made you blush.

“Oh, please.” You laughed, searching your brain for a new topic. “Uh… oh! How’s Dustin doing with his school stuff?”

“I think he’s having his girlfriend fix his grades to make them presentable.” He laughed.

You nodded, trying not to get nail polish on his pinky. “That sounds like something that moron would do.”

“He talks about you.” Eddie said suddenly, making you look up in surprise, which made him smile nervously. “He thinks you’re an amazing older sister, even though you’re annoying and his friends think you’re hot.”

You laughed. “Yeah. I had Mike and Lucas pining after me for years.”

“Will?” He asked, wondering if you’d just forgotten about Will.

You snorted. “Nope. I’m pretty sure Will’s gay.”

“Like Robin?” He asked.

You shrugged. “I mean, he probably likes guys, but yeah.”

“Robin could help him come out.” Eddie said suggestively.

You smiled at the thought. “That would be something, wouldn’t it?”

“It’d be cute.”

“Imagine a little Will walking up to him mom with an awkward expression… what if he pulled out a cheap ass rainbow flag with a wooden rod and waved it in his moms face?” You joked.

Eddie laughed. “That sounds like Will.”

“Awkward little bastard.” You said with a smile.

“So you watched them grow up?”

“Oh, yeah. Babysitting with Nancy was always interesting. The boys would be so loud in the basement while we were working on homework or gossiping about the people in our school.” You said, pondering the thought.

“You ever talk about boys?” Eddie asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

You shrugged. “Sometimes. We’d mostly talk about the girls we didn’t like.”

He laughed. “That sounds like you.”

You pulled away. “All done, Mr Munson.”

“Oooh. I like when you call me that.” He said, handing you a marker.

You rolled your eyes. “Dork.”

He smiled, holding out his left hand. “That eye, please.��

“Of course, baby.”

“So, how’s you meet Robin?”

“It’s like this, I met Will through Dustin, Nancy through Will, Steve through Nancy, and Robin through Steve. Me and Steve stayed friends after him and Nancy broke up, obviously, and I even worked at Scoops Ahoy for a bit but I got fired for yelling at an old man for calling me the n word.” You said, laughing a little.

His eyebrows raised. “He called you a what?”

“The n word. Erica was eating ice cream right by me, too. Honestly I did it more for her sake than mine. If he called me that when she wasn’t around I’d just spit in her food, but the look she gave him… she’s just a kid, you know.” You said softly.

Eddie looked at you with his pretty, wonderous eyes. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I hear it everyday from my wonderful boyfriend.” You said with a smile.

He looked down at his hand. “What’s that?” He pointed to the letters a little above the eye.

“My initials plus… your initials.” You smiled up at him. “You’re so getting this tattooed.”

He laughed. “Whatever you want, baby.” Then he grabbed your hand and kissed it.

disclaimer :

i do not condone saying the n word if you aren’t black, it’s just what people thought was okay back then. it wasn’t okay then and it isn’t now.

also, i will be going back to writing about steve religiously because he is the only guy i’ll ever get on my knees for.

p.s. someone give me shifting tips bc i wanna show this man how much i love him lololol jkjk but like, shifting tips ?? anyone ????

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #y/n #stranger things #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fic #xoch magoch #fanfic #fic #edward munson #st #shifting tips #shifting #stranger things shifting #shifting to stranger things

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lukamoonvibe · 1 year

Text

Chapter Seven: Love Is Blind [Soulmates AU 1]

Chapter Index

Summary:

Medalling with time has a consequence, the consequence of his choice is to be a slave to it until Fate decides he's no fun anymore or he escapes...but does he really want to escape anymore? It's been so long, what would even be the point of going back anymore? Would anyone still remember him? Probably not. No one escapes Fate and lives to tell the tale. Not even a traveller of time.

Fandoms: Crewniverse, Crewfu/Morning Lobby, Chaos Crew/Derp Crew

Rating: Mature

Status: On Going

"Anthony! Aye, wake up dummy." Fingers clicked in front of his face.

"Huh?" he snapped back into reality, or rather into the new one.

"I was saying that Speedy just went to find you; how the hell are you back, but he’s not?”

“Wah?” he focused on the reality, trying to ground himself to it, the person was blurry in front of him, but he could make out her voice anywhere.

She scoffed, “I knew it was a bad idea for him to go after you, but he just wouldn’t listen, something about an important message you had to share with Max and Ze, knew I shouldn’t have listened to his stupid rambling.”

He blinked a few times, “Tay? Is that- no, it can’t be. I couldn’t get back through the door. What kind of sick delusion is this Fate?” but his sight remained blurry.

A hand was placed on his shoulder, causing him to jump a little, “What’s this about delusion?”

“And what door Chilled? You can barely get anywhere without aid these days.”

“Fate? Chilled, have you been at the cookie stash again?”

The voices swam through his ears, his friends, but were they really? Or was this just another reality to be thrown into where he’d have to find Speedy again to gain escape?

“Yo a message for me; lay it on me, brother.”

Chilled shook his head, wishing the haze over his eyes would dissipate, “I don’t know what Speedy was rambling about, honestly. I don’t have a message for you or Ze. But really wish I could fucking see properly.” he rubbed his eyes, hoping it would get the haze to go away.

“He definitely got into your stash Platy.”

“Hey don’t blame me; what about Tay? She makes ‘em too.”

“You mother fucker. Why would I incapacitate him without telling him first? You remember how dangerous it was to get high before finding your soulmate right? You almost walked off a fucking balcony dude.”

Platy scoffed, sitting beside Chilled, “I did not “almost walk off”, I tripped and almost fell over the banister, was lucky that Chilled caught my arm and helped balance me.”

"Soulmate? Wait, wait, those are a real thing?" he sat staring at whoever was in front of him dumbfounded.

"Of course dummy," Cheesy nudged his shoulder, "you're totally out of it today, everyone gets a soulmate, curse activates when you're five, until you meet them you can't see properly."

"Love is blind." He mumbled, looking down.

"Something like that, yeah." Tay replied.

"So what about you guys? Am I alone in this…curse?"

"These losers found their soulmates, me, I don't know. Apparently I've met mine, wish I knew them personally though."

Chilled sighed, "So I'm alone then." As usual, alone on a path of destruction. This is what I get for choosing to study the stupid arts. God I'm a fucking idiot.

"Well, no. I mean, there are plenty of people out there who haven't met their soulmates." Platy said.

"Yeah, and blind people aren't gonna ever know if they meet their soulmates because they already can't see so at least you get to know when you've met yours," Cheesy pointed out.

Chilled shrugged, "Yeah, I guess." Fuck love. Why does it always have to do with love? Loving someone? Falling in love. What's the point of it if she's just gonna rip me away again?

"You're still up for gaming with us later right?" Tay asked, grounding him back in the conversation again.

"How the fuck do you game when you can't see Tay?"

"I don't know dude, you seem to have it figured out though," a phone dinged.

"Yo, I gotta love ya and leave ya guys, Taryn just got back from her trip. See you later in the sesh!" the bench creaked as Platy got up and left.

Tay and Cheesy said their goodbyes, Chilled stayed quiet, staring down at the blurry table.

"I should head off too, I'll see you later."

"Anthony, you good?"

Chilled hummed, not looking up.

"We're anchors aren't we? To you. We're your anchors?" the question caught him off guard, he'd never thought about it.

He shrugged, looking back up at her, "I don't know what you're talking about."

She shook her head, "I didn't come down in the last shower, you've never been here. Our Anthony knows the soulmate binding bullshit down to ever fine detail. He's been calculating and searching for years to try find them."

A smile crept across his lip, I can always rely on you to see through my ruse. "So you know the academics of travelling here? My Tay did too."

"If one Tay knows the learnings, all Tay's have the inherent knowledge, regardless of whether or not they choose to pursue the knowledge in further detail."

"You speak like someone who knows a little bit too much though. Someone talking from experience maybe?"

He saw her shoulders move, assuming she shrugged, "I dabbled. I've never crossed the threshold though. And you didn't answer my question though, Mr. Chaos."

"I guess so. Anchors, what are those again? I've been stuck in this loop for such a long time. My writh double has started to make new memories for me. I think I lost a bit of my sanity along the way."

"An anchor is a person or place that repetitively occurs in every dimension a hopper is sent to. You can have more than one anchor, and it helps Fate more if you do. Makes his job easier; he can send you anywhere as long as an anchor exists there." she replied. He heard rustling and could just make out the outline of a phone in her hand.

He thought for a moment, "We're not meant to interact with anyone our counterpart doesn't, or she needs to destroy that timeline as soon as the hopper is removed. So an anchor makes sense. But why you this time?"

She shrugged, "I was Speedy's anchor this time too. He couldn't figure it out. Normally Side's his anchor."

"Our Tay helped him; he came to find me. It makes sense Fate may try to send him to a version of you, maybe hoping you'd convince him of something before I got- wait my Speedy's here, in this dimension?"

"Yeah. I mean, he'll be in the session later. Why are you surprised?" curiosity hung in her tone, her full attention on him now.

"She's been trying to get him to go home, Fate. Uh, the door there appears from time to time, to home. But I can't open it," he ran his fingers across his palm, a scar from the burn leaving a ring behind.

Tay reached across the table and grabbed his hand, inspecting it, "You mean he figured out how to block people from using doors? That's never been documented in any of the learnings."

"I know; I don't lack the knowledge of the theory. I'm just an impulsive idiot."

She snickered, letting his hand go, sitting back on her side of the table, "Have you ever tried to figure out who he is, Fate, I mean."

He nodded, "Speedy and I were discussing it, among other things, before we were sucked here."

"Did you come to a conclusion?"

He shook his head, "No. But Speedy is sure of two things, he's met Fate, and she's not happy with him."

"Do you still remember how to open the doors and enter the pocket dimension?"

He shook his head, "One of the side effects of entering it is that you forget how to access that knowledge."

"I don't think that's right. Anthony, the scripture says you should be able to travel at will, only that you're not allowed to stay for too long." He heard her get up. He could make out her pacing back and forth in front of him, "I wonder if Speedy remembers how to open the doors because he hasn't been there as long as I assume you've been."

He listened to her carefully, have I really forgotten that much? Speedy said I'd only been gone a year; that's not that long.

"But if you're here, that means you know how to open doors. But you can't reach your timeline. Fate, she…shouldn't be able to block your access to all doors, only the one that leads you to her. So maybe your door." she stopped, looking right at Chilled.

He raised an eyebrow, not sure where she was going with her rambling.

"Anthony, you can't get through your door because she can't get through your door. Your door is her door. She needs you to do whatever it is you can't remember needing to do in order for the door to open for both of you. She's…she's-"

"Shelby." Chilled whispered, the realisation hit him, and everything started making sense. Why he was trapped, why he and Speedy were kept apart, why Fate was trying to get Speedy to leave.

"But what does she want Speedy gone? Aren’t they friends in your universe?”

“Dimension,” he corrected with a shrug, “they were once, very close. None of us knew what happened but one day they just stopped talking and recording together. I never thought to pry either of them ask, actually never got the chance to think about asking Shel because she went dark not long after. None of us heard from her after that.”

“And no one thought to message her? To make sure she was still alive?”

He shook his head, “She went dark and ghosted us all, but she eventually came back. But not to game with us, with her other friends. I never thought anything of it personally, just thought she moved passed us and at least she was happy.”

She scoffed, sitting back down across from him, “What motivated you to study dimension hopping magic then because very clearly Speedy learnt it to come to find you. What drove you down those scriptures? What motivated you to keep going even after finding out you’d never be able to stay permanently anyway? What are you running from Anthony? What are you so afraid of?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again but no words came out; he couldn’t even remember the answer to the questions, “Tay, I don’t know. I don’t remember. I-”

A hot stinging feeling spread across his cheek, he reached up to rub it, “Don’t fucking lie to me. You’re a terrible fucking liar. I know you’ve forgotten some things but you definitely remember something.” her tone had shifted from troubled to harsh and threatening, “I don’t want to hear you tell me you remember nothing about yourself but you can remember something that happened to Shelby before you started travelling. It's fucking bullshit lies pouring out of your mouth.”

He sat dumbfounded. He’d never seen his Tay snap like this ever; sure she got mad sometimes but it was all in fun. He furrowed his eyebrows, staring at her in what he assumed were her eyes, “What the fuck.” for the first time since he got there he stood, stumbling his way out of the bench, “I haven’t done anything to you. What the fuck did I do that warrants you to fucking slap me. I don’t even know you. Sure I know my Tay, but you’re not my Tay. You’re just one of the anchors that Shel can use against me. You could’ve been Cheesy, you could’ve been Max or Ze. But it was fucking you, okay? I didn’t ask to not remember anything about myself. Didn’t ask to not be able to access the doors like the scripture says I should be able to,” he slammed his hands on the table, “I didn’t ask to once be in love with my closest friends.”

#chaos crew #crewniverse #crewfu #derp crew #morning lobby #archive of our own #cross posted #fan fiction #time travel #dimension hopping #asexual character #plantonic soulmates #i regret nothing #aromantic character

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

Ok so this is no pressure at all I just think tumblr ate my ask but did u get one that was like vampire harry always being grumpy with his mate and one day taking it too far so their mate gets genuinely hurt/sad and they pull away from him, like I said no pressure but sometimes tumblr eats my asks so I was just wondering :) ps I love all ur stuff (and yes I’ve read most of it)

"H, look!" His human speeds into the room, running like he told her not to in her socks.

Why do humans have no self-preservation? It's like they want to die.

She slips, of course she fucking does, and wipes out of her bum. A decently sized cut appearing on her thigh from where she'd snagged the corner of the dresser.

Harry's on her instantly, lips attaching to the injury and lapping up the stray blood droplets before sealing the wound with the healing powers in his salvia.

"Bloody stupid little human," Harry seethes angrily, he told her a million and one times not to run in the house.

"Hey," YN frowns at his tone, looking down to her thigh where there was no indication that she had even cut herself.

Harry was furious, she could have really hurt herself. Why is she so selfish? She was his. What would he do if something happened to her?

He couldn't survive without his mate, the love of his life, she was so fragile and delicate - why couldn't she understand how careful she needed to be?

"Like a small child," The vampire snaps, all of his emotions tended to be released as anger. He wasn't really upset with her, just worried that she would hurt herself.

"I slipped, it was an accident," YN retorts with an attitude, her brow furrowed at her more cranky than usual mate who was baring his teeth at her.

He stands up, tugging her up along with him, a displeased grimace still on his face, "You are helpless. I can't leave y'alone for a minute, you're a pest."

"Forget it," YN mutters, turning on her heel and leaving the room without another word to her mate.

Harry had been grumpy since the first time they've met. It was who he was as an aged vampire. It didn't mean that he accidentally, every once in awhile he let his tone get too harsh or forget how he came across to his love.

He only loved one this on this awful earth. His pretty, funny, and unpredictable soulmate who annoyed him to the ends of the planet and made him want to pull his hair out.

Harry says all those this with the utmost admiration, love, and devotion for the human. He would die for her the second she asked, walk to the ends of the earth for her, do literally anything she would ask of him.

He didn't always realize that didn't translate smoothly at all times.

When he's done in his office, he goes to find his human, it's probably around the time he needs to feed her. He frowns when she is in none of her usually spots where she's hung around waiting for him.

He finds her in the pitch black darkness of their bedroom, under the covers, and curled against her pillow. She wasn't asleep, her breathing was actually uneven and jumpy from what Harry could detect.

"Bat?" Harry murmurs, he was able to see perfectly in the darkness and didn't have the need to turn on any lights as he sits on the edge of the bed.

YN turns to her other side, away from him, pulling the covers nearly up to her chin as she ignores him. He hears the slightest sniffle and hisses loudly.

"What has upset you?" Harry asks with his hackles raised, ready to murder anything in sight.

"You, you fucking idiot," She grumbles, rolling her eyes even though he couldn't see. He was so clueless sometimes.

Harry uses his strength to rip his mate from her blanket confined, tucking her into his lap. He flicks on the side lamp so that she can see him as well.

"I've upset you?" He questions, confused as he studies her wet cheeks, wiping his freezing thumb across the streaks to dry her face.

"You called me a pest," YN tells him with a pout bottom lip, eyes flashing with the hurt she felt.

The vampire looks at her with confusion, "You are a pest."

"That's hurtful, that hurt my feelings, Harry."

"Why? I call you that with the most fondness in the world. Y'are the only thing on this earth that I live for. Why would you get offended when you know how much I love you? I would never hurt you, sweet girl," Harry coos sweetly, his mate is so sensitive!

His little fucking pest.

#vamprry #vampire!harry

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the7thcrow · 3 years

Text

600 degrees

pairing: bang chan x (fem) reader

summary: you can’t cook. like, really can’t cook. good thing your cute neighbour is here to help clean up the mess.

word count: 5.1k

genre: neighbours au. strangers to lovers. the fluffiest of fluff, slightly suggestive.

warnings: a make-out session, bad humour, minho being a twat of a roommate, and tooth-rotting fluff.

rating: 14+

a/n: hi guys! hope you enjoy this one, it’s so much more wholesome and fluffy than what i usually write, but I'm pretty happy about it. don’t by shy to send me an ask or leave a comment. anything you have to say, I would love to hear. :)

...

“Fine. Since you won’t come, at least enlighten me on how you plan to keep yourself busy?” Minho asks, casually leaning against your kitchen island. He stares at you, with that familiar condescending smirk you’ve seen far too many times.

“I don’t know,” you state, rolling your eyes. Rising to your feet, you head over to your shared refrigerator, pulling a bottle of Sangria out of the fridge. “But I’m sure I’ll find something.”

“You know, if you want to drink, you could at least do it at the party.” Minho approaches you from behind, placing both his hands on your shoulders. “It’s a lot less sad that way.”

You slap his hand away, letting out a frustrated groan at the laughter he lets out from his own joke. “I get out plenty, quit acting like I’m some lonely cat lady,” you say, grabbing your favourite wine glass from the cupboard. “I like parties, I just don’t like Jisung’s parties. They always get way out of hand.”

“But Y/N,” Minho wines, picking up your freshly poured glass and taking a sip, earning himself a glare. “I never said you were a cat lady, just the lonely part.”

At that you snatch the glass away from his hands. Not wanting to deal with this torment any longer, you walk back to your comfortable, worn-in spot on the couch.

“You know I’m right,” he says, continuing despite the fact you begin to turn up the volume of the television. “And the only way you’re going to change that is by accompanying me to Jisung’s loud, out of hand parties.”

You turn to face him, raising your eyebrows. “Somehow, I doubt my soulmate associates himself with Han Jisung.”

“Well that can’t be right, because I associate myself with Han Jisung?”

“Shut up, Minho.”

Your roommate snickers to himself as he opens the fridge, taking a quick glance at everything - or for a better term, lack of anything - inside. “What are you even going to eat? There’s nothing leftover from last night.”

“I’ll make something,” you say. Frankly, you had expected the outburst of laughter, but that didn’t do anything to simmer down your growing annoyance.

“Make something?” Minho laughs, giving you an incredulous stare. “Y/N, I’ve lived with you for two years and I don’t think I’ve seen you cook anything once.”

“Hey, I can cook,” you return, wrinkling your nose. “But why would I, when I have you to do it for me?”

At this, it’s Minho’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I take that back. I don’t want you to come, have fun curling up on the couch alone with your three cats.”

“They’re literally yours.”

“Whatever,” he says, opening your front door. “Just don’t burn the apartment down, alright?”

As he closes the door, you flip him off. At first, you aren’t sure if he saw, but you’re given your answer as his laughter echoes down the hallway, fading as he walks further away.

You scowl. Of course you can cook. Well, at the very least, well enough to make a meal for one on a saturday night. Minho didn’t know what he was talking about.

Minho. Your best friend and roommate for the last two years. Man, does the guy have a way of pushing your buttons. You love him, of course. In the weird, bickering, just short of volatile friendship sort of way the two of you had developed.

Still, you can’t deny that even with his painfully irritable nature, he is still a good friend. No matter how many times you say no, he always offers to take you anywhere he goes. He pushes you out of your comfort zone. He’s there to console you when a date goes bad, or you failed a test you studied hard for. He makes all his meals for two, just because he doesn’t want you to live solely off shitty take-out.

He’s your rock. Your platonic other half. Your closest companion.

Which means you are going to prove him wrong, and then rub it in his face as much as you possibly can. Of course, because that’s what friends are for.

~~~~

Then again, maybe you wouldn’t. Or, at the very least, it was going to be exceedingly more difficult now that your apartment was full of smoke.

Covering your nose with one hand, you take the tray of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. If you can even call them that, as they now held a far closer resemblance to that of hockey pucks. Both in looks, and what you could assume in taste, as well.

Okay, you know chocolate chip cookies don’t really count as a decent meal, but they are the only thing you remember how to cook from when you lived at home. Or maybe you didn’t remember, based on the tray of failure sitting in front of you.

Then, to make matters even worse, your fire alarm starts going off.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. Now you are going to have to go to the front desk, let them know everything is okay.

Maybe Minho was right, you should’ve just went to Jisung’s stupid party and eaten something there. Putting all the other painful aspects of Han’s parties aside, Felix was his roommate, so the horderves were always excellent.

They were better than your hockey puck cookies, anyway.

Letting out a disappointed sigh, you open your apartment door, prepared to get a rough scolding from the lady working the front desk. However, you are surprised to find a man standing in front of you, his hand in the air, as if he were about to knock.

“Hi,” he says, awkwardly putting his hand back down at his side. He has messy platinum blonde hair, and soft eyes. He’s cute, and the realization quickly makes you recognize him.

“You’re my neighbor,” you say, pointing a finger at him. It’s not until he doesn’t respond immediately that you realize it was a strange thing to say. Obviously, he knows he’s your neighbor, and he might be a little offended you didn’t recognize him immediately.

Then again, the two of you had never really talked before. Everytime you would pass each other in the hall, he’d always give a polite nod and continue walking. Sometimes you’d try to say hello, or start a small conversation, but he always disappeared quickly. It had gotten to the point where you assumed he had some strange, unwarranted grudge against you.

So, it was safe to say that you were more than just a little surprised to find him at your door.

“Uh, yeah, I am. Are you okay? I thought I smelt something burning, and then I heard the fire alarm go off.” He asks, peeking behind you into your apartment, seeing if he can catch sight of any flames.

Instead, his eyes land on your tray of butchered cookies, and he… smirks?

“Oh,” he says, attempting to hide the smile growing on his face. “Having some cooking trouble?”

You stare at him for a moment, watching as his lips pursed together, stifling a chuckle. “Are you...” you begin, your jaw dropping slightly. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No,” he looks down at you, finally letting his grin free. “I would never.”

“Yeah, okay,” you frown, already not enjoying that sarcastic look on his face. You thought you’d be able to avoid that humiliating look considering Minho wasn’t here, but apparently not.

“As you can see, it’s nothing. So if you’ll excuse me,” you continue, attempting to move past him. “I need to go get my neck rung by the lady at the front desk,” However, he doesn’t budge from his place in your door frame. You cast him a glare, which only makes his smile grow wider.

“Nah, don’t worry, I’ll go let her know,” he says, already turning to walk down the hall. You open your mouth to object, but he casts a glance over his shoulder, snickering. “You focus on cleaning up whatever those black lumps were supposed to be.”

You stand in your doorway, dumbfounded as your neighbor disappears down the complex staircase. Who did this guy think he was, openly laughing at your current predicament? Sure, if the roles were reversed, there’s no doubt that you would do the same. But that isn’t the point.

No. The point is that you are not impressed by the audacity of this stranger, and you are going to make sure that this distaste is known.

Grumbling to yourself, you dump the still smoking cookies in the trash can. It’s a shame, really. You’d thought you were doing so well, too. You thought this would be your chance to prove Minho wrong. Minho. Oh, he would be having an absolute hay day if he were here right now, and the thought only makes your scowl deepen.

“Well,” your neighbor calls from behind you, causing you to jump slightly. He reappears in the open door frame, sticking his neck inside, but not fully crossing the threshold into your apartment. “She’s not thrilled, but the alarm didn’t trigger the main system’s sprinklers, so you’re good.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

The man smiles. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly were you trying to make anyway?”

An embarrassed blush casts itself over your cheeks. “Chocolate chip cookies,” you mumble, not meeting his eyes.

He lets out a burst of laughter, smiling widely. You can’t help but notice that he had a cute smile, dimples on both of his cheeks, eyes crinkled. Not that you were looking. Not that you cared, obviously.

“How’d you manage to mess up chocolate chip cookies that badly?”

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “You tell me.” You gesture towards the oven. Your neighbor smirks, walking inside your apartment. He bends down in front of your oven, before taking a look inside.

“Well, nothing seems to be wrong in there…” he starts, before glancing up at the set temperature. “Oh,” he states, before looking back at you, his eyes full of pity. “Oh boy.”

“What?” You ask defensively.

“The temperature. You forgot to convert it from celsius to fahrenheit. See?” He says, leaning away from the oven to give you a closer look. “So you thought you were cooking them at 350 degrees fahrenheit, when in reality they were at over 600 degrees.”

“Oh my god,” you say, smacking your palm against your forehead. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I don’t know,” the guy shrugs. “You could have burnt your apartment down, so I’d consider it a win. You’re lucky I got here on time.”

You cast him a scowl, although you can’t seem to relinquish the faintest hint of a smile creeping onto your lips. You know damn well you wouldn’t have started a fire, and that the man showing up really didn’t stop anything but an uncomfortable conversation with the front lady. You are also sure that he is fully aware of this too, which makes your smirk grow wider. Alright, you’ll play along.

“Right, what ever would I do without you?” you say sarcastically, causing your neighbor to playfully roll his eyes. He leans against your kitchen counter, relaxing slightly.

“Does my saviour have a name?” You ask, opening the fridge to take a look at what’s inside. You feel your stomach rumble, taking a glance at the clock to see that it was already past 9:00.

“It’s Chris,” he smiles, leaning over your shoulder. “So what are you going to eat, now that you’ve successfully butchered the easiest recipe known to man?”

“Hey!” You snipe. “That is certainly not the easiest recipe known to man.”

“Fine, fine,” Chris says, putting his hands up in defense. “Maybe not the easiest, but it’s definitely up there. But putting that aside, what are you going to eat? Because I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever seen a fridge so empty.”

You want to quip back at him, but he’s right. Minho usually does the grocery shopping, but because of Jisung’s party tonight he wasn’t planning on cooking anything.

“Good question,” you sigh, closing the refrigerator door before leaning your back against it. “Maybe I’ll just order some take out. I don’t think my pride can handle another failure.”

Chris smiles. “Or, I have an idea,” he says, his eyes glinting. He heads over to your apartment door, and for a moment you worry that he’s leaving.

No, you’re not worried. You’re curious. That’s all. You were curious whether or not he was leaving, nothing more.

When Chris returns, he has his arms full of ingredients. Spinach, penne, tomato sauce, cream, a variety of spices. The list goes on, and he stumbles slightly, almost dropping the surplus of food onto your kitchen floor. Imagining the mess, you rush over to help him, placing the load of groceries onto the counter.

“I don’t know if you couldn’t tell before,” you say, motioning to your overflowing counter. “But I really can’t cook. I have no clue what to do with any of this.”

“That’s no problem,” Chris smiles, already separating the food into different groups. “I’ll help you.”

“No, no, no. I can’t ask you to do that,” you say, waving your hands in protest. You step in front of him, squeezing yourself between his chest and the kitchen counter, preventing him from reaching any of the ingredients. “You’ve already dealt with the desk lady for me, and brought over all these groceries. You’ve done more than enough.”

He smiles, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and effortlessly moving you to the side. “Why would I bring you these groceries if I knew you couldn’t do anything with them?” When you don’t respond, he continues. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it. Just let me help you.”

You sigh in defeat, ignoring the way your heart begins to beat faster in your chest. “Alright,” you say, grabbing Minho’s cutting board from the cupboard. “Let’s do this, then.”

~~~~

An hour later, you find yourself sitting on top of your kitchen counter, Chris stationed by the stove working on the pasta sauce. You had genuinely tried to help in the beginning, you really did. But after Chris criticized your (awful) cutting technique, and said he didn’t exactly trust you to do anything else, you gave up.

Besides, you don’t have a problem watching him work. Over the last hour, you’ve come to learn that Chris is an absolute whiz in the kitchen. Moving from place to place, adding spices by intuition and nothing more. This wasn’t something you could have managed to make yourself in a million years, and it’s obvious that if you tried to assist him right now, you’d only get in the way.

Of course, you’ve learned a lot more about Chris in the last hour than just that. Where he grew up, his hobbies, what he was currently studying at the university. Music theory, as you’d learned. As cool as it sounded, Han had managed to tarnish your image of music majors, but you suppose you could give Chris a chance.

“It’s almost done,” Chris says, glancing over his shoulder to look at you.

“Thank God, I’m starving,” you reply, leaping off the counter to stand beside him.

“What, no ‘thank you, Chris?’ No, ‘what ever would I have done without you, Chris?’” He mocks offence, placing a hand on his heart.

“It’s not even done yet. I’ll thank you after I try it, I promise.” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Ah, so you’re only thankful if you like it. I see how it is,” Chris says, crossing his arms in front of himself, pouting his lower lip slightly.

“Guess so,” you say, crossing your own arms mockingly. Chris smiles, those cute little dimples of his dancing across his cheeks.

Then you feel it, that little jump of your heart. The faintest skip of a beat that you’d familiarized yourself with over the last hour. That little hint of anticipation that makes you decide that you are, even if only slightly, a bit interested in Chris.

After all, he’s funny and sweet. Can carry a conversation well, and to understate it, undeniably easy on the eyes. That’s more than enough to give him a chance.

Most of all, however, you like that little flare between the two of you. The sarcasm, the banter. It doesn’t feel the same as when Minho does it, slightly condescending and done purely to harbour your annoyance. No, this is different. It is a challenge. He wants you to quip back, to push further. To make him smirk, or laugh, or roll his eyes.

“Alright, fine then,” he says, taking the large wooden spoon and scooping up some of the pasta sauce. “Tell me if this is up to par, your majesty.”

You aren’t sure if he wants you to take the spoon, or let him hold it for you as you take a bite. You decide to take the gamble, gently moving your lips around the spoon, tasting the sauce. You glance up at Chris, a small look of surprise on his face. However, you don’t miss the flash of something behind his eyes. The faintest hint of affection, interest.

The sauce itself is delicious. A perfect blend of tomato, basil and cream. You hum contently, giving him a thumbs up.

“Chris, this is amazing,” you praise, admiring the small blush that sprinkles his cheeks.

“It’s really nothing,” he says, diverting his gaze and rubbing the back of his neck, shyly.

“No, seriously,” you say, taking the spoon from his hand and scooping some of the sauce up yourself. “Try it.” You hold the spoon out in front of him, and he raises his eyebrows slightly. Your gaze remains firm. A challenge.

Hesitantly, he takes the bite, not breaking eye contact as he does so. You stare at him, watching the way his lips move around the spoon, the intensity of his gaze. The action itself should be innocent, yet you feel a warmth rise to your cheeks.

Chris swallows, taking his lips off the spoon. For a moment, neither of you say anything. You can feel the change in the atmosphere of the room. The spark between you two being brought alight.

You swallow hard. “So?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah, it’s good. Very good,” he says back, his voice low and raspy. He goes to take the spoon from you, and his hand lingers a moment, his thumb trailing the skin of your knuckles.

You feel yourself lean in slightly, fully prepared to take the leap, when suddenly he breaks away from you, eagerly taking a few steps back. He looks away, placing a hand on his face, as if he were ashamed.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know you’re seeing someone, we shouldn’t be doing this. I’m sorry,” he babbles, completely turning away from you.

You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. Seeing someone? Where the hell could he have possibly gotten that idea?

“Seeing someone?” You ask, incredulously voicing your thoughts. You grab him by the shoulder, turning him around. “Why do you think I’m seeing someone?”

Chris still refuses to meet your eyes, instead focusing intently on the wall behind you. “The guy that lives here- Minho - aren’t you two?”

“Minho?” You gape, contorting your face in a look of pure disgust. “Ew, gross! No! Believe me, I am not dating Minho, I’d genuinely rather stick this spoon in my eye,” you exclaim, lifting up the utensil.

At that Chris finally looks at you, wearing his own look of pure confusion. “Wait, really? But whenever I hear you guys out in the hall, the two of you are always so… flirty.”

“Flirty?” You laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement. “If by flirty you mean he teases me literally every god damn second of every day, then yeah sure, I guess. But believe me, there is absolutely nothing romantic about that. Not in the least.”

Chris shakes his head, a smile forming at the corners of his lips. “Wow. I am such an idiot,” he sighs, a rediscovered lightness to his tone.

“No, no. Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him. “Anyone could make that mistake, I guess. It’s really no big-”

“No, it’s not just that,” he cuts you off. “That’s why I’ve never talked to you before now.”

“You never talked to me because you thought that me and Minho were dating?” You ask, slightly confused. Even if you were dating, you didn’t see why that would stop him from starting a conversation with you. “Why?”

“Well,” he sighs, his cheeks reddening further. “I thought you were pretty, and based on the way you always quipped back at him, clever and funny as well. I don’t know, it just felt wrong to try and build a friendship with you, knowing how I already felt a little....”

You smirk, drawing yourself slightly closer to him. “A little what?”

His smile transforms itself from embarrassed to a sly grin of his own. “A little into you, I guess.”

“It really is a shame,” you shrug, trying to hide the excitement building in your chest. “Because here I was, thinking my cute neighbor had some irrational grudge against me.”

Chris leans in, so the two of you are only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, smell the strong fragrance of his cologne. Sharp with lemon zest and mint.

“We could always make up for lost time, you know,” he says, his eyes flashing with mischief.

That is all the invitation you need to break the space between the two of you. You press Chris’ lips against your own, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other along the line of his jaw. His lips are soft, you notice. Tender in the slow rhythm the two of you develop.

He runs his hands up along your figure. One of them finding itself locked in your hair, the other placed firmly on the curve of your lower back. Gently, he leads the two of you away from the stove, placing you so that your back is pressed up against the kitchen counter.

You run your hand down along his chest, reveling in the groan he let’s out as your fingers trail down his lower abdomen. The sound is electricity pulsing through you, charging the room and igniting the atmosphere around the two of you.

His lips leave yours, trailing your jaw before making their way down your neck. Each individual kiss is slow and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. You take a deep breath to stable yourself, and it does not go unnoticed.

Chris smirks, shifting his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown out with desire. “You know, if we keep this up, the pasta sauce is going to burn,” he says, letting his fingers trail along your collarbone.

“Let it,” you shrug. “I wasn’t hungry anyways.”

Chris laughs at this, leaning forward so his face brushes the crook of your neck. “Yeah, right,” he says, allowing his lips to dust your skin. Suddenly, he bites down, not enough to break through the skin, but certainly enough to leave a small mark.

You laugh, running your hands in his hair, half-heartedly pulling him off of your neck. “Hey! That hurt,” you exclaim, only half serious.

“Sorry,” he grins, before crashing his lips into yours once again. The pace between the two of you is much faster now, each kiss more passionate. More promising. Your desire rings through you, clouding your mind in a hazy fog of lust. It is dizzying, just how much you want him at this moment.

You're certain he feels the same way, given in how tightly he grips your thigh, his breath ragged every time you break apart. It is messy. Greedy. The two of you so deeply wanting more. More of each other.

You’re about to ask if he wants to move this to the bedroom, when suddenly the apartment door swings open. It’s almost comical, how quickly you and Chris break apart, springing to opposite ends of the kitchen.

“I hate to say it, but you were right,” Minho calls as he walks inside, not yet glancing up from his phone screen. “Shit got out of hand. Someone managed to break the pool table, don’t even ask how, I don’t know either. Almost gave Felix an aneurysm. I swear the kid was about to cry, poor guy. Han had to shut everything down. So you really didn’t miss out on-” Minho stops as he sees Chris, a confused yet bemused expression crossing his face.

“Oh, hey Chan,” he says, causing you to give Chris a look.

“A nickname,” Chris mouths to you, as discreetly as he possibly can.

“What are you doing over here?” Minho asks him, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. He has that smug smirk on his face that makes you want to punch him.

“Oh, well…” Chris starts, casting you a glance. “Y/N made some food, and there was too much of it, so she invited me over.”

“Really?” Minho asks, caught off guard. He walks past you and Chris, staring at the pasta and sauce currently sitting on the oven burners. “You’re saying Y/N made this?”

“Well, yeah?” Chris says, feigning confusion. “Of course, I wouldn’t lie about something like that. Why?”

You have to stop yourself from laughing, looking at the expression of utter bewilderment on Minho’s face. Minho glances at you, narrowing his eyes, before sighing.

“Well then, I guess you proved me wrong on two things tonight, Y/N,” he says, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he begins to scoop some of the penne into his dish.

“Oh, you said there was a lot,” Minho responds, raising one eyebrow. “Can I not have some?”

“Sorry, go ahead,” you say, still slightly flustered by the abruptness of his entrance. Minho finishes filling his bowl and takes a seat at the kitchen island. As he begins to eat, the room is filled with a rather tense silence. You and Chris share an awkward look, unsure of what to do next.

Minho looks up from his dish, glancing between the two of you.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, grabbing his bowl and standing up from his chair. “I’m going to go eat this in my room. Have fun you two.”

Before you can say anything, Minho disappears around the corner, down the hallway leading to his room. You turn back towards Chris. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

“He’s a bit of a mood-killer, huh?” You say, grabbing two bowls from the cupboard, offering him one.

Chris nods in thanks as he takes the bowl from your hands. “Just a little bit,” he laughs, beginning to scoop some of the pasta into both of your dishes.

The two of you take a seat at your counter, spending the meal talking and laughing. Nothing else, the moment has passed, but that doesn’t bother you. You enjoy Chris’ presence. His quick humour and thoughtful conversation.

It really is something that you could get used to, you decide.

After you’re done eating, you walk Chris over to the door, handing him his surplus of spice bottles and leftover spinach.

“Thank you for doing all this, seriously. The food was delicious, you’re seriously gifted. And also, thank you for covering for me, I really didn’t feel like listening to Minho die laughing over the burnt cookies,” you admit.

“It’s no problem, really,” Chris smiles. He shifts all the spices over to his right arm, letting his free hand fall down to his side. Softly, he takes your hand in his, letting your fingers intertwine.

“Listen,” he continues, shyly looking up from your hands to meet your eyes. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, you’re welcome to come over for a proper dinner. You know, so I can show you what I can actually make when it’s not a last minute attempt at salvaging a meal.”

You smile a goofy, genuine grin. “That sounds good to me,” you say. Hesitantly, you lean forwards, planting a soft, innocent kiss on his lips.

As you break apart, he hums contently. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, thanks for today. You made my night, Y/N.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Chris.” You watch as he walks over to his apartment door, which is of course, only a few meters away from your own. When he disappears into his own apartment, you sigh, closing your own door behind you. You lean against the frame, letting out a shaky breath, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve held any genuine interest in someone, you feel almost giddy.

That is until you see Minho, leaning against the corner of the kitchen wall, watching you with his cheshire smirk.

“Dinner tomorrow, huh?” He asks, walking into the kitchen and scooping himself the last of the pasta.

“What about it?” You retort, not giving in to that pestering look in his eyes.

“Oh, nothing. I’m sure it’ll be good, considering Chan clearly made this,” Minho says, shoveling some of the pasta into his mouth.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, grabbing two wine glasses from the cupboard.

“Save it, the lady at the front desk told me you almost set the apartment on fire,” Minho laughs as you pour the wine.

You let out a groan, handing him his glass. “God dammit.”

“Don’t blame her though,” he smiles, leaning back and taking a sip. “I wouldn’t have believed you could have cooked that anyway.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“Had me fooled for a second there though,” he says, patting you on the head. “But more importantly, you like Chan huh?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right. Nice hickey, by the way,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows.

You pull up the collar of your shirt, casting him a glare. “Okay, maybe I do,” you shrug. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing,” he replies, before taking a second to think. “Just please don’t fuck him or anything tomorrow. Walls are thin.”

You laugh, taking your glass of wine and flopping yourself back down on the living room couch.

“Shut up, Minho.”

thanks for reading loves <3

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids bang chan #skz bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan neighbour au #bang chan x y/n #skz neighbour au #stray kids neighbour au #skz fanfiction #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan #skz #stray kids

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superherotiger · 2 years

Text

Unmatched Gifts (Soul Guide AU Drabble)

Hey everyone! I've been having some writers block lately so this drabble was a quick, fun piece I made to try and get back into it. It's sort of a belated Valentine's Day fic as well as an Outsider POV, and I had a lot of fun writing from MJ's perspective this time around! Let me know what you thought, your comments really mean a lot to me and keep me inspired to write. Hope you all have an amazing day! -Superherotiger

Ao3 // Soul Guide AU Masterlist

~~~

“Hey MJ, do you know how to draw animals?”

Glancing up at Peter through a veil of brown curls, MJ narrowed her eyes suspiciously and asked, “Why?”

“Oh- nothing… I was just curious,” Peter replied sheepishly, before turning back to his lunch with the same nervous tension that had been building up in his shoulders all morning. Ned might not have noticed, but MJ had always been the observant one of the trio, and it hadn’t slipped her attention just how distracted the young genius had been all day. Jittery, uncertain, but not scared, which probably meant it was nothing too life threatening at least. And judging by the way Peter’s hand kept subconsciously moving towards the invisible soul guide beside him, she had a pretty good guess as to why.

“To answer your question, yes.”

Peter blinked up at her with the most oblivious doe eyed stare. “Yes… to what?”

Unable to hold back an eye roll, MJ teased, “For a genius you can be really stupid sometimes. Yes, I can draw animals.”

“Oh,” the boy said as realisation and excitement passed over his features all at once. “Would you- uh, be able to draw me some?”

“Depends on what kind of animal you’re after,” MJ replied coyly.

“Just simple ones, like a cat and a dog.”

Trying to suppress a smile at the adorably hopeful expression Peter was shooting her right now, MJ asked lightly, “And your sudden need for animal artworks wouldn’t have anything to do with- I don’t know, Soul’s Day would it?”

“Pfft, no,” Peter tried to defend, but the flash of panic in his eyes as he leant back was all the answer she needed.

“You didn’t get a gift, did you Parker?”

The boy’s lips drew into a thin line. “I was planning to get one…”

“And yet, you didn’t,” MJ smirked, already pulling out a sketchbook from her backpack. “Your soulmate must really matter to you, huh?”

It was only meant to be a joke, but MJ had to admit she felt a twinge of regret when Peter’s expression suddenly morphed into one of horror and shame. “No, no! You got it all wrong, I do care about them- a lot!” Peter rushed to explained, running a hand through his mop of curls as he tried to gather his thoughts. “It’s just, I’ve never had to… buy gifts for Soul’s Day before, you know?”

Oh boy don’t I know it.

“Usually I just take Tiger for a walk through Central Park or force him to watch Star Wars with me for the ten millionth time,” Peter said with a fond chuckle, before his features sobered back into worry as he explained “But now that it’s not just me and Tiger anymore, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Do I write a card? Do I buy them something? Do I buy something expensive? Not that I have the money for anything expensive, I just-“

“You’re spiralling,” MJ cut in before his nerves could start shaking the table as well as his hands.

“Sorry- sorry, I just… don’t know what to do,” Peter admitted in a sigh. “I’m scared I’ll screw it all up…”

Expression softening, MJ watched as the boy hung his head in defeat; a sight that appeared most unfitting on the ever determined and optimistic Peter Parker. It didn’t take long though for his attention to be captured by something beside him, undoubtedly the unseen but always loyal soul guide coming in to offer their comfort. She had seen Peter turn to them many times before, but even as the boy began to pet his companion as normal, she noticed the guilt that now weighed in his warm, brown eyes. Guilt that he wasn’t doing enough, and that he didn’t know how to be enough.

Soul’s Day had always seemed so pointless in MJ’s mind. It was nothing more than a cheap way for companies to squeeze some extra money out of consumers, pressuring them to buy big and buy lots, as if that was the only way to measure how much one truly loved their soulmate. In the end, it was nothing more than a glamorised commercial. Which was something MJ would have told her friend on any other occasion, but found herself faltering just this once.

Because there- in his eyes, in his guilt, in his fear of getting it wrong, there was love. There was so much love that it was pouring out as worry because he simply didn’t know how else to express it. After all, how could a single gift possibly represent just how much one cared about their soulmate? Just how much they loved them? A connection like that was priceless, and hence, it was unmatched.

It was no wonder Peter had spiralled so far with a task as impossible as that.

So, pushing aside whatever feelings she held against Soul’s Day herself, MJ tapped Peter’s arm with her pencil to gather his attention and said sharply, “You’re not going to screw it up. Do you know why?”

“Uh… Because I’ll have one of your amazing drawings to give them?” Peter guessed innocently.

“No, because you care about them. That’s what matters the most,” MJ replied bluntly, startling the boy at first before he took a moment to process it. Slowly, the shock melted into understanding, and then finally into relief as he offered MJ a smile of appreciation. One that was free of worry or guilt, and one that MJ hoped would never disappear again.

Before everything could get too sentimental though, MJ flashed a subtle smirk and added, “But yes, also because you’ll have one of my drawings.”

Peter huffed out a chuckle of his own, and after giving his companion one last scratch, he leant his arms against the table with a wide, excited smile and said, “Thank you so much for doing this MJ, you’re the best!”

“Don’t mention it,” MJ replied, offering a fluttering smile before she hastily glanced down at her sketchbook instead when she felt her cheeks begin to warm. “Let’s- uh, let’s start with your soul guide, okay?”

Peter nodded keenly, and without anymore hesitation, he burst into a description of his loyal companion: a fluffy, silver cat that was as elegant as he was fearsome. The boy took his time to describe every feature and fur pattern in detail, often dragging his unsuspecting companion onto the table so he could get a better look and offering a sheepish laugh when the soul guide had obviously bounded away in annoyance. A prominent scar running through the cat’s chest became a point of conflict for Peter as he tried to decide whether to include it or not, and in the end, MJ added the mark in one of her softest pencils. Still there, but merely an imprint…

When it came to Peter’s counterpart however, MJ really shouldn’t have been surprised that it was a dog of all things. Joyful. Playful. Loyal. And a golden retriever no less, so also undeniably cute. They had always joked about those Parker puppy dog eyes, but now it seemed their theory had become an undeniable truth, much to MJ’s amusement.

And as she drew, Peter filled the silence with stories of his soul guide and counterpart. All the ridiculous mischief they’d gotten into, all the mishaps, all the gentle moments. It was nice, walking through all those memories that Peter was so proud to share. Not only did it fill the time with warmth and laughter, but it made the image MJ was trying to capture in her mind that much clearer, and hence the path of her pencil that much easier.

By the end of the lunch break, Peter was sitting beside her and inspecting the finished page with a beaming grin. It displayed the two animals running happily alongside each other, as free and as joyful as Peter’s stories had been, and MJ couldn’t suppress her smile when the boy called his soul guide back to present the sketch with glee. “It’s you Tiger! How cool is that?” he proclaimed to the unseen guide, and after admiring the page himself for a little longer, he glanced up at MJ with the most grateful smile and said, “Thank you MJ, this is amazing! You captured them perfectly!”

Smiling to herself, MJ didn’t have the heart to tell her friend that she hadn’t been trying to capture their image, but the love that Peter had described them with.

She doubted the sketch did it justice or even caught a shred of its true extent, but seeing Peter’s face -so excited and joyful- told her that it showed more of that love than any other gift could.

~~~

Tag list:

@joyful-soul-collector @lost-lunar-wolf @lbigreyhound13 @aixabi @zanderljones @milstrim @anarinette @sfabsha @appleschloss @sdottkrames @katthebookiestnerd

#tony stark #peter parker #irondad #spiderson #michelle jones #platonic soulmates #Soul Guide AU #drabble #my writing

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spacedikut · 3 years

Text

the blessing of a blizzard ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: a blizzard leaves the team holed up in the bau office. spencer can’t stop thinking about your elusive boyfriend, mike, who might not be your boyfriend after all. 4.3k

a/n: festive fic! kind of! im too scared to do a final check so if there’s errors or i misuse pronouns just lemme know ily happy holidays ! thank you to the incredible @homoose for helping with dialogue :D

Mike. His name is Mike, and Spencer hates him.

Full name Michael, Spencer presumes, which comes from Hebrew meaning “who is like God?” A rhetorical question, implying there is no person like God, Michael was one of the archangels in Hebrew tradition and the only one identified as an archangel in the Bible.

What Michael should mean, however, is the guy that stole your heart and left Spencer thinking things very unlike him – that Mike, a man Spencer has never met and that clearly makes you very happy, has a really stupid name, for example.

There are three things Spencer knows about him:

1. Ever since you started deciding on his wardrobe, ladies love him. It makes you a little jealous, apparently.

2. You love baking him homemade treats whenever you can. Like a movie playing in his head, Spencer can perfectly remember you excitedly chatting with Garcia and Emily, animatedly explaining how excited Mike gets when he sees you’ve made something just for him.

3. Mike can be a bit of a dick, actually. There have been several mornings you’ve come in with a long face, leaning back in your desk chair far enough to view the world upside down and whining about how grumpy Mike was that morning, how you had to tip-toe around your apartment lest he get mad.

You’d called him your soulmate, added that he’s a light in your life you didn’t know you needed until you had him. You’re a person who chooses their words carefully, so when you’re walking around putting Mike and soulmate in the same sentence, you mean business.

That business is ripping Spencer’s heart out of his chest, apparently. Because you’re busy showing JJ pictures of him on your phone right now, blissfully unaware of the subconscious glare Spencer is lasering into your phone as he leans against the jet counter.

Spencer’s never had the honour of seeing Mike (a genuine word you used – honour) and you know what? Spencer doesn’t want to know what Mike looks like. Spencer doesn’t care. Mike’s probably ugly, anyway, and Spencer’s confidence within himself grows day by day and if there’s one thing he’s learnt recently it’s that comparison is the thief of joy and-

“Oh!” JJ exclaims, “He’s gorgeous!”

Fuck Mike. Really, fuck him.

+++

The floor is slippery beneath everyone’s feet, the surrounding area slowly losing its mixture of colours to blend into one coat of white.

It’s snowing.

Garcia greets the team, a steaming cup of tea in her bejewelled hands, and everyone gets to work right away. There’s whispers of the snow getting heavier and sticking and covering more and more ground with more and more depth; people are rushing against the proverbial clock to get done and get home before they’re all stuck.

But that won’t happen, right? If people were genuinely concerned about getting snowed in, surely everyone would’ve been sent home early as a precaution. Right? Right?

Wrong.

Rossi’s the one to notice it, calling out, “Check it out. Snow’s pretty bad.”

He says it like it’s nothing, like they’ll race to the windows then deflate with disappointment because you couldn’t even create a single snowball with that light coat, but holy hell people are walking around with snow up to their ankles and it’s still coming down thick. And then the lights are flickering and JJ is making frantic calls home to Will and Hotch is exiting his office, phone pressed to his ear, calling everyone to attention:

“There’s a blizzard incoming. It’s too dangerous for anyone to be on the roads, so we’re being told to sit tight. You should all try to call home, just in case; we don’t know how long we’ll be here.”

Some people still brave it, still try to head on home, and whether they make it or not is up to the Gods. The team glance around, varying expressions – Emily and Derek look pissed, JJ is worried, and you and Rossi are straight-faced. Penelope is bouncing in excitement.

“It’s like a sleepover!”

All Spencer can think about is how Mike will have to suffer another day without you. He bites back a smile.

+++

Spencer’s straining his neck, butt barely on his desk chair, in attempt to see around all the bustling people that stand between you and him. Through the glass BAU doors, on the phone, your shoulders are slumped and you kick your boot against the floor a few times to channel your multitude of emotions into something. He hopes Mike isn’t giving you a hard time for something that isn’t within your control.

Emily looks up from her monitor, where she’s doing Christmas shopping even though it’s Christmas Eve, and looks thoroughly amused by Spencer’s internal battle of wanting to watch you but not wanting it to be obvious.

“You good, Reid?”

Spencer flinches like Emily pinched him. “Yeah, good. Fine. Are you good?”

Emily makes a show of slowly turning to look at you, still on the phone, then slowly turning back to Spencer’s wide-eyed gaze. She smirks. “You think they’re talking to Mike?”

Yes, Spencer does think that, but he’d made a point to not fully acknowledge it. And there’s something about Emily’s smugness that tells Spencer she’s teasing him – she knows something he doesn’t and it makes his eyes narrow. “Probably. Why?”

Whatever the response is, Emily’s barely opened her mouth before she’s interrupted by Penelope Garcia gracefully clapping her hands, getting the attention of every BAU member. The team quiets and all eyes are on Penelope. Except Spencer, who watches with concern as you sneak back to your desk, a furrow to your brow and downward dips either side of your mouth.

“I know these are less-than-great circumstances, and we’re stuck in work of all places, but that shouldn’t mean we can’t have a little fun! So…”

She wildly gestures for Hotch to step forward, a cheesy grin on her face and a gleam in Hotch’s eye that tells everyone he’s also smiling but internally, and she takes the three large boxes he was carrying like the good sidekick he is.

“We’re building gingerbread houses!”

There’s exclamations of surprise and joy; Emily lights up at the idea of doing anything other than work or sitting at her desk, and JJ takes a box to look it over before asking, “Where did you get these?”

Hotch answers. “They were supposed to be for the kids,” He shrugs, holding back a smile, “However, I guess we can use them now.”

“Yes,” Penelope nods, “Yes, we can use them now. Get your game faces on, because this is a competition. Hotch and Rossi are the judges, because they’re grumpy old men, and the rest of us will be in teams of two fighting to build the best gingerbread house the BAU has ever seen.”

Derek speaks up for the first time, just to insult Spencer. “I refuse to be on a team with Reid. He has no creative skills.”

Members of the team laugh and Spencer reacts indignantly. He wants to reply, but you’re already speaking.

“Hey! I’ll take him! Spencer’s great.”

Many heads snap to you when you speak, Spencer’s surely got whiplash, but you’re looking at him and smiling at him and him alone. He’s breathless at the sight, how you chose him and have literal stars in your eyes, yet all he can think is how undeserving he is of such a beauty. How undeserving anyone is, mostly Mike, to exist in the same reality as someone who puts the definition of beautiful to shame.

Spencer’s about to make the best damn gingerbread house the world has ever seen.

+++

So, building a gingerbread house? A little more difficult than originally thought.

Maybe it’s the sticky icing, or the temptation to simply eat all the sweet decorative candy rather than use it for its intended purpose, or…

Maybe it’s the pretty teammate Spencer has that keeps brushing against him, keeps brushing against his hands, and like a virus to a computer you completely wipe Spencer of all thoughts other than: Y/N.

Spencer caught you watching him while he was rolling up his shirt sleeves, caught you staring at his hands and trailing your eyes up his forearms, following the sleeves as they moved inch by inch up to his elbows.

Then, when Spencer was holding two pieces of gingerbread together, you were too lost in thought to put the icing between the cracks and cement them together. Your eyes were trained on the fingers pressing the pieces together. Spencer had to call your name three times to wake you up.

Then, something weird happened (if the previous instances weren’t weird enough). You two had been in your own bubble of hushed tones and accidental touching, surrounded by bickering and collapsing houses and at one point Emily offered Rossi twenty bucks if he just votes for her and JJ without them making a house, and suddenly it’s silent. All he can hear is his heartbeat, his blood pumping in his ears, and all he can feel is the warmth of your breath on his ear because you’re right there, over his shoulder, joining him in hunching over your creation to decorate it with all kinds of shapes and colours.

The close proximity is too much. It’s too much.

You lean even closer, shoulder and arm pressed directly against Spencer’s, and lift another hand to place a miniature candy cane next to the gingerbread door. The action causes your hand to brush Spencer’s, and for the first time ever he’s not jolting away like he’s been electrocuted, no, his hand stays there, hovering, waiting and hoping for more.

Hoping for more of you.

And you seem to realise, too, that Spencer’s reaction is abnormal. He can’t decide if you’re testing the waters, or if it was a mere accident. But what are you testing the waters for? Why are you trying to touch him? Why do you want to touch him?

He takes a sharp intake of breath. From the corner of his eye, he sees you turn to look at him, and he almost doesn’t reciprocate. Almost.

You’re so close, face so close to his own. You take the softest breaths, in and out, sending the gentlest puffs of air onto Spencer’s lips.

He has no idea what the fuck is happening. He doesn’t want it to stop.

Your eyes, always shining and full of an emotion Spencer can’t decipher, dance around his face – his eyes, to his nose, stopping on each cheek, back and forth and up and down. Spencer’s captured by them, unable to tear himself away, which has become quite the habit since he’s known you.

Then you’re looking at his lips.

Spencer blinks, hoping to clear away the obvious hallucination he’s having, but no. Nothing changes. Your gaze remains, unwavered, making Spencer subconsciously open his mouth. The softest gasp leaves it when your pupils dilate.

This is the perfect moment to kiss, right? Right here, in front of the gingerbread house you made together, decorated together, and now begin the start of something else together. It makes sense, it’s almost poetic, and Spencer’s thought about you and him in a relationship enough times to consider this opportunity good and sweet enough to regale everyone with in the future.

Can you imagine it? “We had our first kiss in front of the gingerbread house we slaved over together. We won the competition, too.”

There’s a loud clang – Penelope found an actual gong from somewhere – and Rossi announces that the timer has gone off and it’s time for the judges to vote for the winner.

When you gently pick up yours and Spencer’s creation and take it to a cloth-covered table, where Rossi and Hotch ominously stand with their arms crossed, Spencer is frozen in place.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

There’s no way you wanted to kiss him. It isn’t possible. You’ve never looked at him like that before. It must’ve been a mistake.

But you were so close…

No. If Spencer made that move, it would’ve ruined everything – your friendship, the festive fun, the atmosphere of the entire evening. Everyone’s expected to be stuck here for at least another six hours, and making it tense and awkward was not something Spencer is willing to do.

But your eyes…

Spencer can’t think about that fact too much. That could mean anything – dilated pupils don’t necessarily mean you’re in love. You could’ve gotten a good whiff of the gingerbread and felt hungry, or a song you really liked started playing from the playlist Penelope created. Or, most likely, Spencer thinks, you were thinking about someone else.

Your boyfriend, for example.

You have a boyfriend. Mike.

Of course, you were probably thinking of Mike. Your boyfriend.

Spencer almost kissed someone in a relationship, and he’s pretty sure you almost kissed him too.

+++

Much to Derek’s chagrin, you and Spencer win the gingerbread house contest.

Penelope was baffled, frantically gesturing to the Jacuzzi she made with icing and- Derek made miniature weights? Somehow? It looked chaotic.

“Practicality, my dear,” Rossi told her. “Who, living in a gingerbread house, is worried about working out?”

Even though you and Spencer were the winners, Derek and Penelope and their pouting (and calls for a rematch) took the attention away from the obvious awkward tension between the winners. Spencer stayed at the desk you worked at while you took your house to the judges, stayed at the desk when you were crowned and stayed at the desk when you cheered.

You looked at him, wide grin and happy eyes, and all he could do was tightly smile back. Give a thumbs up.

He gave you a thumbs up. You nearly kissed less than ten minutes prior. And all he could do was give you a thumbs up.

The light in your eyes dimmed, but you seemed to understand.

Understand what, exactly? Spencer’s not so sure either. But something clicked in your head – you nodded to yourself as if confirming whatever you’ve concluded, and turned your back to him.

That was an hour ago. Now, the team has spread across everyone’s desks. Turns out, Hotch is a big fan of gingerbread - he’s consumed most of Derek and Penelope’s creation, icing and all, while Rossi has decided now is a good time to open one of the many bottles of whiskey he has in his office.

Spencer believes having that much alcohol in your work environment is breaking some kind of rule, but the snow isn’t letting up and it looks like a sleepover in the BAU office is likely. He deserves a little whiskey.

And where are you in all of this?

Spencer won’t lie and pretend he hasn’t had you in his line of sight the entire time, so he’ll recap what you’ve been doing: laughing at Derek’s jokes, plaiting Penelope’s hair, eating the candy Emily and JJ didn’t use on their house.

You’d left the room to call home and check up on things (check up on Mike, Spencer thinks bitterly) and now you stand in front of the large window by the BAU elevators, watching the snow fall.

Spencer has the perfect view of you through the glass doors. When the call ends and you stay there, he grabs a paper plate, grabs one of the walls from yours and his masterpiece and makes his way towards you.

He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how he’ll even act, but he wants to talk to you. Things feel weird after the almost-kiss, and Spencer never wants things to be weird with you. He can’t have things weird with you. You hadn’t talked to him once since the competition, and he has a feeling you’re waiting for him to make the first move.

So he does. If that’s what you need, he’ll do it.

(He’s making this more dramatic than it needs to be, really, but he feels everything so deeply when it comes to you)

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice perfectly matches the snowy atmosphere. It makes you feel warm inside, like you’ve just taken a sip of hot cocoa, and so often he’s left goosebumps on your skin just from speaking.

Seeing the outstretched paper plate in his hand, you take it gratefully. “Hi there. Thanks.” You nod to the gingerbread that you begin breaking up.

You hand him the first piece even though he brought it for you, and it’s silent while you both chew thoughtfully and watch the pure white outside. It doesn’t feel weird, necessarily, standing here, shoulder-to-shoulder with you, but you’re certainly more in your head than usual. You’re thinking a lot and, as much as it hurts him, Spencer knows you’re likely preoccupied by your boyfriend and not what transpired between you earlier.

It’s that thought, that disappointment settling into his chest, that opens his mouth unconsciously: “How’s Mike? Does he know you’re not making it home tonight?”

He regrets it immediately, worsened by the way you stop mid-chew, eyes dimming like Spencer’s taken a baseball bat and shattered the lights inside.

This is unchartered territory – talking about Mike with you – and you know it. Who, in their right mind, willingly asks the person they have feelings for how their relationship with someone that isn’t you is going? Does Spencer enjoy pain?

Although this is the first time Spencer’s mentioned Mike to your face (he’s mentioned Mike plenty to a laughing Derek), he’s been so close to presenting the topic many times. He wants to know so badly – wants to know how well Mike treats you, really treats you (he will profile you), if you see a long-term future with him and if not, on average how long does it take you to get over your exes? Just an estimate?

You swallow the gingerbread you’re eating. “He’s okay. My roommate has to take care of him, but at least he’s got someone.”

Huh?

Since when do you have a roommate?

And why is your roommate taking care of your boyfriend?

Oh. Guilt blooms in Spencer when it registers that he’s been thinking ill of a person that might be sick. No wonder you dote on him so much and seemed devastated to make that phone call home earlier - Mike needs you, you can’t be there for him, and you feel horrible for it.

Spencer feels horrible for having the subject of his anger be someone you so clearly cherish, so deeply love. He’s embarrassed that if he was asked to explain why he hates Mike so much, he’d have to tell them it’s because Mike has you, and you’re what Spencer wants. What about what you want?

“Take care of him?” Spencer asks. The concern is genuine, which is an emotion he never thought he’d have in regards to Mike. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh,” You shrug. “He needs someone watching over him at all times, that’s all.”

That’s all?

You continue. “Make sure he eats – and only eats what he’s supposed to. Give him his meds. Make sure he poops. Those kinda things.”

What?

“Your… roommate makes sure your boyfriend poops?”

Now, Spencer knows what you look like when you’re confused. Honestly, he has every facial expression you’ve graced him with tucked away in a proverbial box he spends too much time thinking about. He knows that when you’re trying not to laugh, you bite the inside of your left cheek. When you’re frustrated but need to present a professional front, you bite the inside of your right cheek. Happiness fills your entire face, like every inch is consumed by it, and you’ve trained yourself to transport anger to your hands, where they twist into tight fists and leave fingernail marks in your palms.

Confusion is one of his favourites (second only to joy – for obvious reasons. Have you seen your smile?) because it takes many forms. You’ve pursed your lips, narrowed your eyes, tapped your foot on the floor. When you do them all, Spencer considers it a jackpot. There’s something about the way you look when you’re presented with something you can’t quite figure out yet, when you’re perplexed, that just-

You make it hard for him to concentrate. He can’t be a genius when you’re around because you’re so pretty. You’re a vision and he can never rattle off information to you specifically because he will trip up and divert to talking about the beauty that is you and that would be embarrassing for many reasons.

But this type of confusion? The way you’re looking at him right now? He’s never seen this before. Your jaw has dropped, your brows are furrowed so deeply they might fall off, and you look… horrified.

“My… my boyfriend?”

Spencer mirrors your expression. “Yeah, your boyfriend. Mike?” He looks around, waiting for cameramen to jump out and tell him he’s being pranked, because why don’t you know who your own boyfriend is?

You move slowly, placing the half-eaten plate on the windowsill before turning to face Spencer fully. You take a second to compose yourself.

“Mike is my cat.”

Mike is…

“And he’s having digestive issues, so he needs to be watched pretty much full-time.”

Silence. Tense, weird silence.

“…You thought Mike was my boyfriend?”

Spencer sputters, then, because of course he did! “Yes! The way you talk about him was… it was… it seemed…”

He flustered, oh so flustered, hands flailing and face enflamed and burning from the inside out. How had he not known?! How had… how had your wires gotten so convoluted, so mixed?

Does everyone know that Mike is a cat? Is Spencer the only one out of the loop? The look Emily gave him earlier, that knowing too-smug look, was that…

She was making fun of him. She knew he thought Mike was a person, not a pet, and was teasing him because of it.

All at once, the world seems lighter and dimmer – a contradiction that leaves Spencer’s chest heaving – because the past year feels like a lie. He’s spent so long seeing the way you come to life when talking about Mike, sitting opposite you on the jet as you awaken like a dying flower watered when home got closer and closer, and it was all for… a cat?

There’s a mist over Spencer’s eyes as he recalls every overheard declaration of love and coos of how handsome Mike is, and you’re laughing. Spencer’s having a crisis in front of your very eyes and you’re laughing. Hunched over, a single tear falling from your eye, clutching your stomach because it hurts from the ferocity of your giggles.

By the time you quieten, your hand is over your mouth to cover the big grin that grounds him, gives him something other than this revelation to focus on. Spencer’s still baffled, frazzled, but there’s the tiniest of smiles on his face because of how overjoyed you look. And he did that. Albeit his stupidity did it, but Spencer’s stupidity nonetheless.

You’re out of breath. “God I… I don’t even know what to say. You really thought my cat was my boyfriend?”

Spencer’s fighting a smile, lips wiggling. The way you’re looking at him now, all blinding smile and crinkled eyes, alleviates him of any anxiety he earlier had. Like you’ve wiped away his plate-full of worries, all the times it felt like he took an arrow to the heart, all the times he caught you smiling at your phone because you were looking at pictures of Mike, it’s all worth it. Because you’ve never looked like this while talking about Mike, and Mike is a cat. He isn’t a person, isn’t your boyfriend. Mike is a cat and Spencer has a chance.

Spencer has a chance.

“Does this… this means you’re single, right?”

A somewhat terrified look overtakes his face.

“Oh, shoot, you are single, right?”

You bite your lower lip and nod. “Yes, Spencer. I’m single.”

He lets out a breath. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad.” He repeats your nod, realises what he said could imply, and starts shaking his head. “Not-not good good. You’re incredible and need to be appreciated, but… good, because that means we could, you know…” He gestures vaguely. God, why can’t he get coherent words out? “If you wanted to, we could-“

“Are you trying to ask me out, Spencer?”

“Yes.”

Just to cause immense emotional distress, you raise an eyebrow, mischief clear on your face, and wait for him to continue.

“You want me to actually ask?” He winces.

“I’ve spent the last year convinced you didn’t like me, so, yes, I want you to actually ask.”

The new information sends ice down Spencer’s back because what? Since when? “You- what?“

“I’ve liked you for a while, Spencer,” You cross your arms over your body, slightly embarrassed. “But you always kept your distance so I did too, I guess.”

“I thought you were taken!” Spencer exclaims. “If I’d known I would’ve-we could’ve- I would-“

“You’d what, Reid?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone, but there’s no denying you’re incandescently happy.

He takes a deep breath and asks what he’s wanted to for far too long. “When this is all over, would you like to go on a date with me, Y/N?”

Relief flashes in your eyes, like you didn’t fully believe what was happening until he finally asked, and words have never sounded as pretty as when you say: “Yes. Yes I would.”

Like lovesick idiots, you stand in front of the window with the snowfall as a backdrop, grinning at each other. You can’t help it – you lean up, press a kiss to his cheek that immediately sets his skin ablaze, and fall back onto your feet with a smile sweeter than all the sugar you’d consumed today.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.”

Somehow, despite the nerves and the way his heart is trying to leap into your hands, he manages to tell you, “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

+++

(Three weeks later, Spencer meets the Mike. Turns out he’s a nice guy. Spencer takes the first opportunity he can to apologise for all the bad things he said about him behind his back. The purring tells Spencer he’s forgiven)

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @bitchyreids @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @gublertoon @averyhotchner @prettyboy-reid @shadyladyperfection

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #genuinely if anyone reads this and has suggestions on how i can improve as a writer #and maybe as a person in general #pls message me #something about this feels OFF and i cant tell what

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honklore · 3 years

Text

invisible string | dreamwastaken

(requested plot by red string of fate soulmate au, dream is still a streamer, reader has commitment issues, dream just wants someone to love, chat is the best wingman, sapnap and george try but they suck, reader is timid but dream makes them feel brave, taylor swift references, this is not very deep or poetic at all, i don’t like typing y/n so after this i’m going to move to ___)

listen to: invisible string by taylor swift

In kindergarten, red strings were simply a crafting tool, and teachers never mentioned how much pain they would eventually bring.

Because when they appear, from a child’s eighteenth birthday and beyond, they tighten like a godforsaken high school ring that came in one size too small. Like the universe is a child tugging their mother towards the ice cream truck, you’re pulled around central Florida, passes faces you can’t memorize and voices too garbled to hear.

The string knows where you need to go, and when.

And you’re at the park, feeding ducks and trying to ignore that incessant pull that tugs at your pinky, when you hear it.

It’s a voice you know only because it’s a voice that’s been in your house before. At least, through your brother’s tablet screen. Some gamer online — a streamer, with a distinct wheezing laugh that you’d recognize anywhere.

And you do. Behind you.

You risk a small peak, and your heart drops into your chest. He’s tall. Too tall to not intimidate you. And his sandy hair is wavy, curling at the collar of his sweatshirt, falling perfectly into place when he runs his hands through it. When he does, you see it, the red string.

Which means he could see it too. All he’d have to do is turn around.

But you’re not ready. You haven’t been, not since you watched your cousin get rejected on her eighteenth birthday. Since you watched a string of fate get clipped in front of you, like the three fates had finally had enough of your cousin’s happiness.

It was enough to make you curl into yourself, and reject the natural pull set before you. So you run, and you try not to think of what would’ve happened if he saw you before you saw him. You try not to feel the clippers, but the blade feels tangible against your skin.

You don’t stop running until you arrive home.

“Hey chat, just wanted to do a few practice runs and catch up with you guys,” Dream mumbles into the mic, already restarting his game after deciding he didn’t like his seed. The donos begin rolling in, even before Sapnap and George have unmuted, so Dream flits his eyes to the display screen, subconsciously reading along with the text-to-speech voice, “Dream, what if we shared a string of fate? Ahaha, just kidding... unless... love you bestie.”

Dream chuckles, “Actually chat, I felt a tug today! Isn’t that weird? I was actually reading up on what that could mean, and it seems like either my soulmate is in a lot of distress, or they were in my vicinity. I’m hoping, for their sake, it’s the second one. How would you even comfort a soulmate if all you can do is tug on a stupid string?”

“Simp!” George finally unmutes just to be annoying, and Dream knows soulmates are a touchy spot for him, considering he wasn’t given a string on his eighteenth. Which is strange, but not impossible. Of course, chat doesn’t know this, because it would give them more hope of becoming George’s metaphorical soulmate, but it certainly makes for awkward conversations once Dream and Sapnap get into their own soulmate bonds.

“I’m not simping, George!” Dream feels a bit defensive, because he’s genuinely just curious. He has no interest in meeting his soulmate right now. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He has his streams, and his friends, and chat. He’s fine.

[abbywastaken donated $10: dream why don’t you go back to where you felt the pull and see if you feel it again? that’s how i found my soulmate. okay luv u bye.]

“Thanks, Abby. Love you, too. Um, honestly I was in a pretty public place, so I don’t know if they would even come back anytime soon. Also, this is Orlando, right? Tourists are everywhere.”

Sapnap snorts, and Dream thinks it’s funny, since he’s in the other room. “Just say you’re a coward and go.”

“I’m not!” Dream says. “It was just a small pull, okay? It wasn’t even a big deal.”

He feels another lurch when he says that, but this one is in his chest. It taps against his heart, a quick reminder that it beats for someone else, and he needs to watch his words. “Okay, it was a big deal. Sort of. I’ll go tomorrow, okay chat?”

Chat is spamming all types of messages, from encouragement to jealousy. Dream manages to read off a few donos and create his first nether portal of the stream. He answers as they appear, eyes scanning for a fortress. “No, I didn’t see them… I’m not telling you guys where I was, that’s weird… I’m wearing a sweatshirt and jeans… Hi, Sarah and Patrick…”

He trails off as the donos do, and works at getting blaze rods. George is talking about a riddle he just learned, and he’s trying to trick Sapnap into saying something stupid.

Lost in his own thoughts, he finally closes the stream after a hasty goodbye. “What if I missed my chance?” He asks the two boys on the other line.

“It’s a string of fate, Dream,” George says. “You didn’t miss your chance.”

“Maybe they saw how ugly you are and ran away,” Sapnap says, completely joking, but the thought lingers in Dream’s head.

Did they feel the tug, and run away?

You pour cereal for yourself, and when your brother shuffles into the kitchen, you make him a bowl as well.

He’s eleven, and as little brothers go, he’s pretty chill. Aside from the inappropriate jokes and hogging the bathroom when you have to get ready for work, you like hanging around with him.

You pass him his bowl, and he grins. “I’m gonna watch Dream’s new video on the TV, since mom’s not home.”

You furrow your brows. Dream must be one of the dozens of streamers he likes. Maybe one of his friends will be in chat with him, and you will be able to connect a voice to a face. “Can I sit with you?”

He gives you an odd look, and it’s true, you don’t ask to watch videos with him often. “I guess.”

You eat a spoonful of cereal and settle into the couch while he gets everything ready. He clicks on a lime green icon of a little white blob man, and when the first video appears, you’re taken aback by the voice.

That’s the voice you heard. It’s this one, out of all the random men yelling about a block game. It’s Dream.

“Why doesn’t he show his face?” You manage, wanting information about the person that shares your string.

“What?”

“Like, he’s handsome, right? Why doesn’t he have a facecam?”

Your brother snorts. “Handsome? He’s never shown his face, Y/n. Don’t you know who Dream is? He’s like, super famous.”

“Oh.” You think of his golden hair, as sunny and soft as the glow around his entire being. His voice right now, joyous as he gets chased by his friends. “I mean, I don’t keep up with streamers.”

He begins to explain Dream and his friends, along with lore in their role play server, and it’s all interesting enough that you sit and listen, holding on to the little bits of information you can collect about your soulmate.

You file these facts in a secluded corner of your brain and try to make a whole person, along with the hair and the laugh and the intense music he plays as he gets hunted by his friends.

By nightfall, you’re following all of his socials and binge-watching his old streams, holding on to the way he speaks to his friends, and the fond way he replies to donos.

[dreamwastaken is live!]

You click on it, bundled underneath your covers as if someone might see you and find out your secret.

“Hi, chat! I know I was just live yesterday, but I cut it too short and wanted to come talk to you guys.”

He uses his avatar to wave at the screen, and it’s kind of an adorable sight.

[gogysimp donated $25: did you go see your soulmate?]

Your heart stops. Does he know? Did he see you? Or even worse, has he already found someone else, and he just hasn’t severed the tie?

“No!” Dream’s laugh pulls you out of your worries. “I was busy with meetings today, actually. And I was too nervous. Sapnap also refused to come with me, so I’m just going to go another day.”

So he didn’t see you. He just knows you were there.

You click the donate tab before you can stop yourself.

[y/n donated $1: would you reject your soulmate if you didn’t like them?]

Dream mumbles the question, and you try to ignore the way your heart deflates when he skips saying your name. “I don’t think so,” he states plainly. “I mean, logically, a soulmate would be your other half, so I wouldn’t not like them. But I know some people just don’t click, or there are other issues. So, I don’t know. I guess the only thing I can say is that I don’t want to reject them. And I hope they don’t reject me. I mean, imagine finding out your soulmate is a Minecraft Youtuber. That would be pretty weird…”

You giggle to yourself as he trails off and answers another donation. So he’s against rejection. Okay. Maybe you have a chance.

[kyra donated $60: i’m your soulmate.]

“Meet me where you felt the tug, then,” Dream says sassily. “Chat, don’t be weird, okay? I can’t control who my soulmate is, and I don’t want you guys to exclude them if they become a pat of my life.”

Oh, you think. So his chat is vocal about their opinions, and apparently they mean a lot to him. You shiver despite your warm position and imagine how annoying you might seem to his loyal viewers: someone who only knew about him because of their brother.

Insecurity pushes against your chest, so you close the stream and push your phone away, hoping to forget this ever happened, that maybe you won’t have to deal with the inevitable if you don’t think about it.

Yogurt Barn isn’t the first place on your list of dream jobs, but it has decent pay and helps you pay off student loans, so you appreciate it nonetheless. The teal sweatshirt they gave you as a uniform keeps you warm as you scoop the frozen treats.

Your coworker, a girl named Madison, is busy manning the counter, so you check each flavor and refill the ones running empty.

“Can I ask you a question?” Madison met her soulmate, Anna, only days after she got her string. It was a textbook romance, two people meant for each other, no doubt in anyone’s mind. She might be able to help you now. That is, if you can even admit to who your soulmate is.

“What’s up?”

“I felt the tug,” you say, avoiding her eyes in favor of restacking the medium cups.

“No way!” Madison is perky in a way that makes you want to be included. You like this about her. “Did you see them? Did you talk to them?”

“He—” You want to say that the part of him you saw was perfect, enough to keep you up when you should be dreaming. But reality is nothing if not disappointing. “I ran.”

“Y/n…” Madison gives you a stern look — like a mother finding out their child didn’t defrost the chicken in time. “Why would you run?”

“I don’t want to be rejected.” The magenta swirls painted onto the walls are a stark change to the clay sidewalks of the strip mall. “And before you say he wouldn’t… It’s happened to my cousin. It’s possible.”

Madison frowns. “But that can’t be the only reason, right? I mean, we all know someone who has been rejected. It’s usually not the end of the world for them.”

“He’s a famous streamer,” you blurt, and you’re thankful the shop is as empty as it is. Just the words themselves sound fake.

Madison snorts. “Like, gaming? That’s what’s holding you back? He’s a gamer?”

“I don’t care that he’s a gamer!” You hiss. “I care that he has a loyal fanbase who more than likely all want to be his soulmate!”

“You can’t say that for certain,” Madison says. “I mean, everyone knows about the soulmate system. If you watch someone and don’t feel the pull, you know they aren’t your soulmate, right? So why wouldn’t they accept you?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “I’m just scared. I mean, he’s got this huge following and everything and I’m just me. I work in a yogurt shop for goodness’ sake.”

You head into the back to grab more cups, and the bell rings, signaling a new customer.

“Welcome to Yogurt Barn, what can I get for you?” Madison’s customer service voice pricks your ears.

You sift through the boxes to find the smaller cups and listen to the customer’s order. “Can I have a strawberry cone?”

Your string pulls, that same familiar voice filling your head, not on the screen but once again just a few feet away. He’s infiltrating your life, so close you could reach out and touch him, but it’s such a terrifying thought that you set down the cups.

You tear off your apron, and run into the break room to grab a water and calm yourself down.

It’s ten minutes before Madison comes back to find you. “Hey, are you okay? You disappeared.”

You take a deep breath and stare at the poster on the wall. It’s brightly colored, with a walking yogurt cup waving and reminding employees to wash their hands before scooping. “That was him. The guy— the pull— Dream— I can’t— Does he know? Is he following me?”

“It’s okay,” Madison runs her hand down your back. “It’s okay. He isn’t following you. When the pull starts it tends to draw the couple together until they meet. He probably doesn’t know it’s you.”

You nod and take your breaths in gulps. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right. You’re right.”

“Why don’t you go home early, okay?”

Dream is live again.

Fresh out of the shower, you pull a t-shirt over your body and burrow into your blankets. Earbuds in, you try to focus on the sound of his voice, ignoring every ounce of anxiety that’s been riddling your mind.

“Hi, chat. I’m gonna practice speed runs again. I think George is joining soon.”

You open the chat and scroll through the emotes, clicking the ones you like and sending them, just to calm yourself down.

[kylo donated $5: did you find your soulmate?]

Dream laughs. The sound makes your chest tighten with longing. Your fingers ache. “Actually, I went to the place I felt the pull again. I dunno what I was expecting, but they didn’t show up. But after that, I was running some errands and I felt it, chat! I felt the pull again.”

He trails off while his character starts to look for a lava pool. “I feel discouraged but I don’t want to like, chase them, you know? I don’t want to scare them off.”

You click the donation tab again.

[y/n donated $1: maybe your soulmate heard your voice and got scared of you because they watch your videos.]

It’s not the total truth, but it might help him sleep better. You don’t want him to feel discouraged, but you can’t bring yourself to follow the pull.

“That could be a possibility…” Dream crafts a portal and sends his character through. “But I wish I could talk to them. I wish I could tell them that it’s okay. Like, we don’t have to rush into anything.”

[y/n donated $1: They probably wish they could talk to you too]

“Thanks, Y/n.” He sucks in a breath as soon as he says your name. The Minecraft pause screen appears and the sound of a discord call can be heard.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Something about him saying your name just solidified everything. Your arms feel hot and cold all at once, like you’ve just been thrown in a frozen lake. He has to be feeling it too.

“Chat, I gotta go, okay? I’ll try to stream again soon.”

“Hello?” A sleepy voice comes in through Dream’s earbuds.

“George! Their name is Y/n!” Dream is so excited, his voice raising a few octaves as he talks. “Someone donated with that name and I felt like, super weird. I didn’t feel it until I said the name out loud.”

“That’s crazy,” George says, monotone but supportive. “Do you think the dono is actually them?”

“I don’t know,” Dream scrolls through their past donos and quickly screenshots each one. “I mean, they definitely could be.”

He shares the pictures in their group chat.

George hums. “It sounds like they’re trying to tell you how they feel without admitting that it’s them. Where did you say you felt a pull?”

“At the park, and at the yogurt shop down the road.”

“So go there again. Maybe all they need is a little courage. If you feel the pull this time, you should follow it.”

Dream thinks about it for a moment before finally agreeing. He changes the subject to their next jackbox stream, and George is now happily talking about how they’re going to team up against Sapnap.

He goes into Sapnap’s room that night. He sits on his desk chair while Sapnap sits cross legged on his bed, scrolling through his phone. “Do you wanna get frozen yogurt tomorrow? My treat.”

“Hell yeah!”

The new strawberry-lemonade custard is a hit. Not only are the colors aesthetically pleasing for the teenagers who want a nice snapchat story, but there was a promotional coupon in the mail that has people lining up to the door.

“It’s not even that good,” you tell Madison while the two of you are on break. You’re both using a sample spoon to try out the new summer flavors, and in your opinion, strawberry-lemonade isn’t even the best one. “Blood orange is better.”

Madison wrinkles her nose. “No, blue raspberry is best.”

“It’s sour, though,” you say.

“Guys! Break’s over and you’ve got a line!” Your manager stares disapprovingly at the cups of custard the both of you are indulging in.

“We’re coming.” You toss the cup into the trash and walk out, scratching at the sudden itch on your pinky finger.

Pulling on your gloves, you grab a scoop and address the first customer, “Welcome to Yogurt Barn.”

“Hi!”

You still like you’ve been caught stealing on camera. You look up, hand clutching the scoop so tightly you can feel the cold steel through your gloves.

It’s Dream.

It’s him. He’s tall, and his hair is a sunshine blond, dark at the roots and curling beneath his ears. And his freckles… little spots all across his cheeks so endearing that you get a little distracted staring at them.

Then he’s talking, and you have to focus on his jade-green eyes, not his lips, which are a warm pink. “It’s you.”

You blink. Fear strikes your spine and you drop the scoop. “I gotta go.”

“Wait!” Dream calls, just as Madison shouts your name.

You exit out the back door again. Your heart is pounding against your chest, ribs expanding, and all you can hear is the sound of your name coming out of his lips, just last night through a screen.

“Y/n?” Only it’s in front of you, a few feet away, and he’s searching your eyes for any reassurance that you won’t run away again. That you won’t reject him. “That’s your name right?” He keeps talking, a nervous smile flitting across his face. “The donos? That was you?”

You can see the string now, red and blaring, tightening with each step Dream takes. It’s signing off your fate, for better or for worse, and you can’t fathom why he’s trying so hard, why he cares so much.

It’s hot in Florida but you feel cold, chilled to the bone. You straighten up. You figure you owe it to him to look up in the eye.

He leaves you breathless, eyes shining in the sun. “It was me,” you say. “You’re Dream.”

“Clay, actually,” he says. His smile widens, and it’s magnificently bold. He’s triumphant, just from your reply, and that alone gives you the slightest bit of hope.

“Clay,” you say. “I’m— I’m not— I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You don’t have to be.” Clay is quick to reply, hands open and palms up. It’s a complete surrender — putting it all in your hands. “We don’t have to announce it. We don’t have to be anything at all, if you need time. But I would like to be your friend. If— If that’s okay.”

But you want to be close to him. The draw of your strings pulling each other closer and closer makes you want to wrap your arms around him. If he hasn’t rejected you, maybe you can do this. “I– I want to be more than friends, but I’m terrified of you rejecting me. I’m afraid of the string getting cut.”

Clay set his brows, “I won’t let that happen. We’re connected. Fate, ya know?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, and it’s a sigh of relief. “Okay. Maybe I’ll give you my number?”

“I’ll give you mine!” Clay is animated, holding out his hand for your phone. “That way you can text me when you’re ready.”

The red string shines like gold in the Florida sun, and when your fingertips brush, it burns with a satisfying warmth.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken x you #mcyt au #dreamwastaken au #mcyt x reader #mcyt fluff

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fenheart87 · 3 years

Text

Pain of the Tongue

This is not for my SoulTember challenge but the idea is you feel the pain of your soulmate. Marinette feels a familiar pain in her tongue but it fades quicker than last time. Now she has an idea and some suspicions as to who her soulmate is.

Marinette knew she was being rude by ignoring her best friend but this was way more important. The this being the mouth of one Luka Couffaine. It had been bugging her ever since Juleka let it slip that her ever so lovable dumbass of a brother and his walking fashion hazzard disaster of a best friend had done something stupid and Luka had bit through his tongue. The same day hers had started with a sharp pain that faded into a dull one that meant her soulmate had done something to theirs. Which meant that her soulmate could be Luka. Or wishful thinking but she had to prove it one way or another.

"Girl you stare at his mouth any longer and he might just offer his lips to you."

"I want to kiss him but that's so not what this is about." A beat of silence passed and Marinette realized she said that out loud. "Juleka said a couple weeks ago that Luka did something and bit through his tongue right?"

"Uh-huh?" The unsaid I'm not following was loud and clear in the reporter's tone.

"The same day I had a really bad and lingering pain in my tongue. I was thinking about it and a couple years ago I had a sharp unexplainable pain that lasted about four weeks. Looking it up back then to find answers, I found some piercing care websites and the typical healing time frame is four to six weeks. I think Luka has his tongue pierced and he's my soulmate."

"Okay wow, hold on girl." Alya pulled up her notepad on her phone and started a list. "Evidence we can prove please."

"He never shows his tongue, ever. When he laughs, it's always behind his hand or just a quiet chuckle that doesn't show it. Never sticks it out when Juleka does it to him. Juleka always mentions his obsession with rocky road ice cream and how he was ready to die when he couldn't have it for a month. Luka hurt his tongue the same day mine hurt. He's always careful of what he eats, using mouthwash after meals as recommended on those piercing sites."

"Clearly you need to be the Ladyblogger and not me. So what are you going to do? Just bat your pretty blue eyes and lay one on him?"

"Maybe but I need proof first."

"I gotta say, I'm glad we're over the Adrien days."

"Me too Alya, me too."

The plan was simple: try and make Luka show his tongue. The only problem is she was making him nervous with all her staring and Juleka was noticing. Marinette forgot how focused on something she could be but decided to tone it down otherwise he was going to think she had an unhealthy fascination with his mouth. Which okay she did but not like in a creepy way. Whatever.

"Did Luka do something?"

"Not recently, no."

"Okay… Can I ask why you're staring at my brother like he's a piece of meat?"

"I'm not meaning to! I mean I am staring but like it's for a reason!" She groaned, this wasn't sounding any better by the second. "You can help me. Do you know if Luka has his tongue pierced?"

"Why?" Marinette really hated how all the Couffaines had that stare into your soul look.

"I've been thinking about it and two years ago my tongue had this sharp pain that lasted about a month and then last week it was kind of similar and it seems when Luka hurt his tongue mine started hurting which you know soulmates share each other's pain and it's possible he's mine?" That was tame as far as her rambles normally would go and now she just had to wait.

"So you've been trying to catch… His tongue?"

"Yes."

"You could just ask him"

"I know!"

"Or kiss him, see if it's there." The purple loving girl shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal either way.

"Juleka!"

"No need to sound so scandalized. So maybe he does and maybe he doesn't. How are you going to prove it?"

"Haven't gotten that far."

Luka grabbed another popsicle from the freezer, it was like back when he had gotten his tongue pierced. He had had it checked out and nothing was wrong with the piercing or the slight scar so the only conclusion he could come to was something to do with his soulmate. Which was weird to think about because it caused a trill of happiness and an equal response of upset. He still held feelings for a certain pink designer after all.

"Oh my God! Have you seen it?! Have you seen it?" Alya's voice could be heard before her footsteps clamored across the deck. Signing, he grabbed a large cup of ice and took that too. They had band practice but his mouth pain was killing him.

"What are you talking about Alya?" Oh hey, Marinette was here too.

"Ladybug! I had a short interview with her and she got her tongue pierced!"

"What?" Okay that wasn't his voice but Juleka was keeping the convo going and he stayed where he was just out of sight for a moment.

"Yeah! She got her tongue pierced! I asked her why she wasn't talking as much in the last few akuma battles and her face looked like she was in pain so she just stuck out her tongue and then yo-yo'd away!"

"That's cool but it must be painful." Marinette was coming around the corner and paused as she saw Luka, raising a fine arched brow as if waiting for an answer.

"It was so cool! I almost missed it on camera but look Rose!"

"Hey Marinette."

"Hey Luka, I have an important question. For tongue piercings at what point is kissing considered okay?"

"Four to six weeks depending on the person and their healing ability. Sometimes its less and if you take good care of it then usually a month as long its not tonsil hockey battle." The response was a knee jerk reaction and recited the exact same words his piercer gave him.

"Hm well I guess I can live with that for now." Why was she getting closer and why- Oh. Oh. Marinette was kissing him. Wait. Kissing him?! Luka froze up and a blush took over his face, causing the sneaky girl to giggle as she pulled back. Patting his cheek with a shy smile, Marinette promptly stuck out her tongue to reveal a bar with two balls the color of Viperion's suit.

"Wait, what?" Luka.exe has crashed.

"You work on getting your brain working again and maybe you can get a second chance at that kiss later."

Oh hell.

#pro lukamari #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #jules is us #sha la lala kiss the boy #identity reveal oops

69 notes · View notes

bbhyeoliskooks · 3 years

Note

Can I request an angst where Yeonjun breaks up with you but then wants you back a few weeks later?

«❝ 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 ❞»

Yeonjun was the one to break up with you, so why does he want you back now?

➸ check part two out here !

«────« ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Pairing: Yeonjun x Reader (female)

Genre: 5 cups of angst and maybe 2 cups of fluff ?

Warnings: harassment, alcohol consumption, cussing, yeonjun is a big jerk in this :ccc, cliffhanger ending, not edited so if i make a mistake... oopsies

Song: I’ll Never Love This Way Again

(I wasn’t sure if I could do a happy ending, but you just have to find that outtt 😌😌~~ i’m so sorry that it came so late too ! i just didn’t expect there’d be tons of assignments this week??? anyway, if you want me to make a part two, of course i can ! requests are always open 🥺💓)

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Everything was fine.

When Choi Yeonjun made the first move under your favorite spot in the whole world during the time both of you were stargazing, you felt his smile brush up against your lips as you kissed him to your heart’s content. Finally, the boy of your dreams was yours. You hadn’t thought this would be coming for a long time, but you were so happy it turned out this way instead of a permanent, platonic friendship- one that was simply excruciating whenever you saw him and his adorable, fluffy cheeks. Warm infatuation flowed through your veins making you kiss him deeper, allowing him to be in your arm’s embrace while your heart swelled in joy. This was love.

You knew deep in your heart that everything was fine and was going to be fine, for that matter.

Said boy gently cupped your cheek, and you melted into his touch under the glistening, white moonlight. He was so warm, you never wanted to lose that even if you gave up the entire universe to be with him.

He was happy.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach while you fondly gazed at his pure, bright smile, not being able to look away from his brown eyes which captivated you every single moment of the day. In a crowd of people, you were sure he’d be the one person you’d look at, and not to mention the only one. He was for you, and you were for him. He loved you, and you loved him. What difference was it going to make if you made it official?

And so you were too.

“I love you, Y/N,” he murmured so softly he wondered if you actually heard it.

You had.

“I love you too, Yeonjun.”

Everything was fine.

Up until now.

Call you cheesy or anything else, but all you wanted to do for the day was drop some food off at your boyfriend’s house before going out to a few of your classes. Your boyfriend of eight months, actually. You doubted that anybody else numbered their months as an anniversary, but who was counting? It had been a while since you seen each other due to studies and exams, so you assumed that this would be the perfect time to visit him for a couple minutes while he’s having troubles on a few assignments. Easily, a couple minutes could turn into hours and you’d find yourself missing class unintentionally.

Although at the same time, spending time with your boyfriend was the best! And he’s made you smile so much these past months that you were really starting to understand why you loved him so much. Those sparkling eyes which held all the starts from the Milky Way Galaxy in them, those sweet lips which never failed to calm you down whenever your patience wore thin, and that sweet heart that protected you from all evil in the world. Point is, he was the perfect boyfriend and there wasn’t even once a time where he would hurt you! After all, you knew that he loved you so much as well. He promised he would always be right beside you, and the Choi Yeonjun never ever goes back on his promises.

Entering the house with the spare key he gave you for emergencies, you hesitated for a few seconds when you heard his voice ripple throughout the silent kitchen. Was this right? It wasn’t an emergency, but what if Yeonjun was really hungry and needed you? You could picture his pouty lips whine whenever you asked him if he wanted something to eat, and the imaginary sight made you grin with delight. Still, you were unsure if you could just budge in without his permission. Like the loving boy he is, he assured you every time that it was okay, managing to convince you in the near future which was technically now that he adored in whenever you planned a surprise visit for him.

You shut the door softly, enough for it not to create any sounds that could signal you arrived. Knowing how much Yeonjun loved when you came over by the way he kept encouraging you to come over whenever you had free time, you made sure not to make any sound in order to be the sunshine in his day. It could too much for other people, but hey! Seeing him happy because of you made the pride in your chest grow, like you were on top of the world. Just a simple visit would do, right?

“Yeah Bin, I just think they’re really clingy, don’t you agree?”

His velvety voice caused you to stand still in your spot, paralyzed as your mind was reeling with a variety of thoughts. Your excitement instantly burned down in flames, your curiosity growing as you slowly inched around the familiar kitchen. Luckily you weren’t noticed, albeit that was good since you didn’t have the desire to be seen anyway. Who was he talking about? Could it be someone you know?

“Nowadays, I don’t see them as much, and I’m so happy I don’t. Like, who would want to come home to that thing? If we lived together, I sure as hell know that I wouldn’t be able to stand a minute with them, if not much more than a second.”

The pounding in your chest grew faster with every single second that passed, for if he caught you, you knew that he would be extremely disappointed. As a couple, it was important to trust each other, and especially when one of them needed their privacy. But the wonder of who it was was far stronger, overpowering the fear of being caught. Yeonjun would definitely hate you for this if he ever found out, but that didn’t mean he had to know. You felt like you were doing something by listening to him, an impending feeling in your gut which only signaled trouble.

“I think I’m getting tired of them. All they do is wear my clothes when they know they have their own and cry to me about their problems every single night. They’re always like this and that, making you do things that you don’t want to do. It’s really annoying, you don’t understand,” he added as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Your heart sunk to the ground, shattering into a million yet heavy pieces once you registered who they were talking about.

It was you.

Yeonjun chuckled at your newfound misery, not acknowledging you were there as he traced his finger over the marble counter. “And don’t you try to defend them, Soobin. I know you guys are good friends, but if you dated them then you would really know how stupid they are. To be honest, their problems turn out that way just because they’re such an idiot. Who knew I would be stuck with a dimwit like them?!”

He burst into laughter, but you heard nothing from the other line. Internally, you thanked Soobin for not finding humor out of the situation, but there was a bitter taste in your mouth as you heard him tell more and more about what he hated about you.

Was it that easy to say?

Too tired to hear the rest, you gently shut the door, leaving as soon as he made another joke about your affection. The bag of food clanked against the porch loudly, causing the shutter of the windows to flicker inside the house but you didn’t care anymore if he came out to see you like this. He said you were pathetic, and that’s what you are. If you can’t even do one thing, then why even try due to the fact that you aren’t good enough for him? Your eyes were betraying your will now, welling up with tears of disappointment in yourself. You should’ve known, you should’ve known! Look what happens when you depend on people too much, this is all your fault!

You went home like a fool with your stunned voice not permitting you to say anything about what you heard from him. Maybe if you just endured it a bit more, he would come to realize that you were only doing what you did since you loved him with all your heart. This couldn’t be your boyfriend, perhaps he was stressed with all of the exams they’re giving. This wasn’t him, it just couldn’t! How could he say all of that?

He was for you, and you were for him. He loved you, and you loved him. That was that.

Certainly everything was going to be okay... right?

«────« ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Just like Yeonjun wanted, you did everything in your power to make sure that he was comfortable with his own space. You placed the stolen clothes you loved to wear whenever you missed him during the time you knew he wasn’t home because of dragged out classes. You didn’t text or call him as much, knowing that he would probably get annoyed if you bothered him too many times to count on both hands. You didn’t plan surprise visits anymore when you had the time, choosing to coop yourself in your bedroom as you waited for him to say something- to say anything.

Maybe he would actually come talk to you, right? It’s been almost three weeks since you’ve seen each other. Maybe he would notice the missing piece in his life which was you, right? He always told you he adored whenever you called him your soulmate, as cheesy as it is. Maybe he would at least explain why he’s being like this, right? He strove to do the right things in your relationship even if it cost him his pride. It was because he loved you.

That’s what you thought.

He didn’t, and you were left shattered in pieces. Disappointment clouded your heart as you thought well of him, the hope in your chest gradually becoming less and less each day for the time the two of you did not speak. Instantaneously, you felt terrible about yourself, understanding why he thought of you to be so clingy that it was almost suffocating.

All the while, that ended up with the two of you getting even more further apart.

You hated it, but what hurt the most was that you weren’t sure if he cared about you anymore.

«────« ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ─��──»

“Hey babe, can we talk today? I need to tell you something, so meet me up at Moonlight.”

When Yeonjun asked you to meet up with him at your favorite spot, the one you both deemed to be your place, you were absolutely thrilled to see him. It was nearing four weeks since you haven’t seen each other which was quite surprising to you; you never knew how well you could hold up without him in the first place. Moonlight was the code name for the place you both ended up confessing to each other since it was incredibly vivid in your hazy memory. You couldn’t help but remember Yeonjun’s bright smile directed towards you when you mentioned the name.

Jittery, you made sure to put on the perfume he gifted you on your first month anniversary, spraying it just enough so that it wouldn’t overwhelm him. It was no wonder that you wanted to look your best for him, for perhaps he would finally tell you that he loved you again! You’ve been waiting for that day since forever, patience becoming frayed from the anticipation that consumed you every single day.

Your nerves were practically a scrambling mess as you walked yourself there, hoping that everything with Yeonjun was doing well. Gosh, you missed his fluffy cheeks so much and his cuddles you swore you were going to go crazy. His scent was no longer on your pillows and you had to admit that you really missed it. But really, this was a good sign! You knew that everything was going to be fine, just fine. He was going to be right by your side, right by your side where he would stay but why was this gut feeling in your fluttering stomach trying to convince you differently?

When you arrived there, heart thumping as you watched his head peek up instead of staring at the ground, you suddenly felt your eyes gather up with tears. It was pathetic to cry in front of him, but you missed him so much that just seeing him made your whole world feel complete. As always, he looked perfect when his eyes found yours, looking you up and down and staring to see if you’ve changed one bit.

You waved at him shyly, words becoming stuck in your throat as you took in his beauty that never failed to amaze you. A smile struck your lips, stepping towards him with bravery even if you were scared you were doing something wrong. He wasn’t smiling like usual, so maybe something happened in his personal life? You wanted to be there for him through times like these. However, all you had to do now was hope for the best once he spoke up.

“Y/N, I...”

His voice faltered when he stared at your gentle expression, unable to find the courage in what he was going to say.

How was he going to break it to you?

“Yeonjun,” you stated simply, raising an eyebrow at why he was so vulnerable all of a sudden. His breath became heavy when you mentioned his name but he remained strong, standing as tall as he could to finally say-

“Y/N, I’m breaking up with you.”

... What?

He’s breaking up with you?

You couldn’t comprehend what he was saying, all the words going through one ear and out the other.

There was no way. There was no way he was breaking up with you. You were for him and you were for him. He loved you, and you loved him. There’s no reason why he would be leaving you right now, he just couldn’t do that!

He sighed, shaking his head at your dumbfound expression. “I just... I just I don’t think we’re right for each other. We don’t have any interest talking to each other anymore, and you know how easy it is to give up, right? That’s what we should do, and I know you’ll definitely find someone else.”

You still weren’t able to say anything, shock taking over you as your eyebrows furrowed and tensed up. Since when was he like this? He said he never gives up on anything, so why is he giving up on you now?

“You’re a great person and all, but I have to break up with you, alright?” His velvet voice which you swore loved you just as much made every single hope and dream die in your soul, the words he said breaking your poor heart even further.

You couldn’t possibly understand- you just couldn’t!

He was for you and you were for him. He loved you, and you loved him. It’d always been like that! You kept repeating over and over again in your head, trying to convince yourself that this was a bad dream that you needed to wake up from.

He didn’t say anything else, the sudden silence deafening your ears as you did your best to conjure up something to say.

“B-but why...?”

But why? All the sympathy from before drained from his heart once he heard those words and he couldn’t contain himself, chuckling at your misconception. Why couldn’t you get it through your thick head that he was being the right one here? It was the hard truth, you needed to realize that like he did.

“You can’t be serious, can you? It isn’t that hard to understand, I’m just saying that we should break up once and for all,” the boy muttered under his breath.

Was it that easy to say? Was it that easy to break someone you loved? Was it that easy to hurt someone you thought the world of?

The anger built up from weeks before rushed in you and you charged up to him, punching him in the chest with all you had to give. It was too weak to feel anything, honestly. He couldn’t help but smirk at your fragility.

“Yeonjun, how could you do this?!” You heaved, voice becoming stronger without realizing it. You threw another punch, strength failing you over and over again. “I gave everything to you!” You hit him again. “I did everything in my power just so that you’d be happy!” You hit him again. “I went against my own heart in trying not to contact you as you’d like, but it all came down to this?” He watched tears one by one trickle down your cheeks as your voice thinned with hopelessness, but he just wasn’t able to feel anything.

“You just weren’t good enough.”

It was like that one phrase set you off, and you clung to him like a fool, taking his freezing hands into yours while the atmosphere became thick with tension. Perhaps if you could’ve done something from the past the way he liked it, he wouldn’t leave you. Perhaps if you just worked on yourself and your appearance a bit more, he would actually find something to love. Perhaps if you just tried harder, everything would be fine. But why? Why had all your efforts gone to waste just like this?

“What can I do then? What can I do to make you love me again? Tell me, please! I want to fix everything, I have to fix what we have!” You gripped his shirt as hard as you could, your knuckles turning white from how hard you were doing so. His scent which gave you euphoria every time you sensed he was near had now turned sour, making your stomach churn with dead, exhausted butterflies you weren’t sure how to clean up.

There was no remorse in Yeonjun’s heart as he stared down at you, combing his fingers through his hair in frustration. This was much harder than what he had assumed, but you’d eventually move on, right? He honestly couldn’t say that he cared, and it was a bit funny to see how desperate you were.

“I don’t love you anymore, Y/N, get over it,” he said before pushing you away towards the tree you used to have dates under.

You then stumbled on your feet, almost falling over due to dizziness which numbed your senses. The thorny-like bark of the tree slit a few cuts on your arm, making you groan with tears in your eyes. You searched frantically to where he could be, eyes easily falling upon his body, where every single second you witnessed became excruciating both physically and mentally. Your chest twisted with unbearable agony while you watched him leave, walking out of your life as if it was the easiest thing to do. The splinters dug against the flesh of your skin, but you couldn’t care less. He was leaving. He was leaving, and you were just allowing it to happen.

“Yeonjun, please don’t do this to me!”

You hoped he would hear you.

“I know it’s all my fault, but please don’t leave me!”

You hoped he would just listen.

“I want you to stay, Yeonjun! Please!”

You hoped he would know how much you loved him so much to the point where you would die without him.

“Yeonjun, I still love you!”

But it didn’t work.

“Please...” You reached out to him in desperation that he would come back, but the once familiar figure slowly but surely left your life, taking your torn heart without giving you one, last glance.

«────« ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

To say you were a wreck was an understatement.

If an absolute pathetic mess who didn’t take care of their hygiene as they laid in bed all day, going through several tubs of ice cream was enough to say that you were a wreck, then that was it. But clearly, that in itself was not good enough just like what he said. You were terrible, clearly in shambles after what he had said to you. Faults upon faults kept piling upon the bitter taste of your tongue no matter how much you tried to distract yourself by doing the things you loved. In this situation, it seemed that hobbies didn’t work at all. The things you did had no purpose without him. It would only come out as second best, and you could even say this was the worst you’ve ever done them. All of it came down because of the breakup. How could you live without the boy who made you so happy every single day?!

So in turn, it had to be your fault for doing this. It had to be your fault because you tried so hard and yet it just wasn’t good enough. You caught yourself thinking that if you just changed yourself a little, maybe then everything could be different, and the two of you could be happy in love like always. That only weighed on your heart because you knew you were such a fool for him, hopelessly devoted for something that would never come.

Plus, it was bad enough that no one cared about you so much to even look after your well-being even if you felt terrible about getting help. Showing sympathy was the worst option ever since it only reminded you of how your ex would shower you with love and affection whenever something abominable happened to your heart. Looks like that wouldn’t happen now.

Soobin tried calling you a lot after he heard that Yeonjun broke up with you, but you didn’t give him any chance to talk to you. If he did, then you would burst into tears at his voice saying something along the lines of the words, ‘are you okay?’ Obviously, you wouldn’t be able to handle it if he saw you like this- like a sobbing mess that no one else could ever love.

A day passed of watching shows you used to love, and that didn’t work either. No spark of light passed your eyes while you gazed upon the screen you and Yeonjun used to share, laughing about your favorite characters who you would give the world to but were honestly too stupid to realize that they caused the problem in the first place. You weren’t able to help the tears that gathered up like puddles in your eyes when you saw Yeonjun’s favorite character, the one he adored all the time whenever you two watched tv together.

Every single place you looked at, it would only remind you of him. The couch where you two would cuddle all the time, and the one where Yeonjun slept on if you forced him out. Sometimes when you both were having a bad day, some things would lead up to another with shouting and angry eyebrows due to the cause of each other. Although that would be solved in no time and more times than necessary, you would find yourself sleeping on top of his chest so he’d wake up to you apologizing to him. With lots of soft kisses too! He said he loved you, and that was that. You loved him too.

Really, you couldn’t go a day without him so why was it so different now? What happened to the loving boyfriend Yeonjun used to be?

Just a day after he broke up with you, you found your spare key you gave to him right in front of your house, waiting expectantly for you to pick it up as if it was nothing special. Just the sight of it was enough to bring you tears and you threw it over the streets as if it was nothing. It didn’t get very much far though, but the only thing your mind screamed about was Choi Yeonjun this, Choi Yeonjun that, Choi Yeonjun every-single-where. If it was something from him, you wanted nothing to do with it! Except maybe his sweaters and pillows that still had the scent of him, yeah.

It would be strange if someone found it right on the black pavement your driveway, huh? And definitely used it to unlock your house in the wee hours of the night. Wait! And not even bothering to knock on the door before coming inside with the key that they found too. That would be totally strange...

It seemed the idea got to Soobin when he showed up to your house without you knowing, being smart enough to use the key to open the door. You awoke to his gentle voice luring you out of bed at like two in the morning, apparently just checking up to see if you were okay. Once hearing that, you sobbed onto his white sweatshirt, pretty much feeling bad that you wrecked both his mood to the max and his poor sweater that was victim to both your spit and tears.

A bleak outcome became of this even if he assured you so many times that it was okay. His shoulder and shirt in the upcoming days were your soggy tissues for the moments where you cried, but that gave you much ranting to let out anyway. Soobin couldn’t believe his very own best friend had the audacity to do this, but it wasn’t his business to do anything but help. He didn’t mention anything to Yeonjun who laughed about your ashamed expression when he listed the reasons to your shortcomings, though it wasn’t like he cared enough about him to see for the time being. He didn’t tell you either, for he didn’t know how you’d react. What he knew mostly was that you were busy cursing Yeonjun and his perfect, white smile that still very much caused flutters to your heart.

Little did you know that Soobin’s everlasting, sweet kindness would get you somewhere farther than what you could’ve ever expected; even if it meant eating tubs of ice cream just to make yourself feel better.

«────« ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Time goes too fast for your brain to comprehend.

It’s been... almost one month since that very day.

That very day where Yeonjun broke up with you, marking it a month anniversary of where the love of your life crushed your entire being. That very day where you promised yourself you wouldn’t ever love again. That very day where you realized what the true meaning of what love really is.

So far, you haven’t heard about Yeonjun. Soobin didn’t tell you anything- which you were thankful for- otherwise you would’ve had a mental breakdown about his fluffy cheekies or the bright smile you so longed to have back. Likewise, he said he didn’t mention anything about you to Yeonjun, but you knew the boy was doing well without you. It’s been a long, rough month and you were obviously itching to move on, but that was what broke you the most.

You did your best to avoid him. You ripped every single photo you had of him in your albums although it caused you so much pain, you burned every single sweater you still had left in your closet for safekeeping, you threw all of the anniversary gifts he gave you- even the promise ring so that you wouldn’t go insane. Even you were surprised at how much you could do by yourself in trying to move on. And little by little, you could tell it was working. Soobin was proud.

In classes that you were with him, you made sure to sit at the end of the room so that he wouldn’t dare to notice you. Sometimes you’d find yourself staring at him whenever the teacher droned on and on, but luckily you got back into the lesson by engaging yourself by drawing in a few of your old notes to study from. The long hallways were crowded with tons of people, so there’s no way he’d see you too! You made sure of that. At lunch, you instead went to restaurants to waste some time until the next period started again. You made sure everything was perfect. You did everything in your power not to see him.

Passing period was just for a while, and you met up with Soobin who seemed to be a mess with his black hair all over his eyes. You bit back laughter at his ignorance.

“Thank you so much for helping me Soobin,” grinning, you passing him some bread from your lunch bag that you knew he would like. He accepted it generously, gnawing down on it as he shot you one of those eye smiles he knew you were weak for.

"Of course! You’re my friend, why wouldn’t I help you? Also this bread is much more yummy than Yeonjun’s cook-” speaking of the devil, you caught sight of the boy with blue hair (something you admired as you stared at him) who was walking in your direction. His head was turned to the side as he laughed with his friend, but that laughter was enough to shatter your heart all over again

Grabbing Soobin, you pulled him out to the other hall where luckily Yeonjun wouldn’t be able to see you two if he didn’t go there. You hoped he wouldn’t. He would see how you weren’t over him yet! One of you, you couldn’t discriminate between them, sighed. Your heart was thumping way too loudly in your chest in which you were sure anybody could hear it and you teared up, laying a shaking hand over your chest. That was a close one. That was so close, he could’ve seen you like this- like such a mess who wasn’t good enough.

“It’s because you saw Yeonjun, right?” Soobin’s hands gripped your arms as you suddenly felt overwhelmed with dizziness. What happened to your posture and your stature? You shook horribly, nodding your head at his words. Again, there was a bitter taste in your mouth as you avoided Soobin’s eyes. He must’ve been disappointed in you, but you just couldn’t do it.

“Yeah. I saw him again, and he could’ve seen me,” you spoke softly only he could hear it, clear tears of agony becoming one puddle onto the hard ground.

You weren’t sure if you could handle seeing him. You couldn’t allow yourself to after how hard you’ve been working.

Soobin just pursed his lips, pulling you in for another embrace of his. He doesn’t mind giving them to you whenever you needed it, and seeing you like this hurt him just as much as it did when you saw Yeonjun. Nonetheless, you were surprised at his manner despite the sadness that clouded your vision. You were expecting him to reprimand you since you were doing so well and this could be the next big step, but he didn’t. You knew that was only because he was only worried for you anyway.

What you didn’t know was that when Yeonjun turned the halls to see the two of you holding each other in the dark while you did your best not to make any sounds, he glared at Soobin who found him in the corner of his eye. In response, he furrowed his eyebrows back to him, laying his chin comfortably on top of the head as if it was what he always did. They both stood there for a few moments as your chest heaved up and down with heart-wrenching sounds of hiccups that echoed through the hallway, but not one of them dared to move moved. Yeonjun then shook his head, turning away as his loud, mocking steps were practically silent to you who sobbed on the one you knew you depended too much on. Soobin noticed that his annoyed expression was brimming with green, monstrous jealousy, obviously at the sight. But he didn’t want to tell you.

You didn’t stop yourself from crying until the soothing voice above reminded you that it was finally time for your next class. Pulling yourself together was the hardest thing to do in that moment as your stomach coiled with a churning spin. You wanted to throw up as regret bubbled in your fake smile. How would you ever move on if Soobin didn’t feel the need to help you?

Future you would’ve definitely gave her everything just to tell you that Soobin’s help failed.

«────« ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Was it too early to say that you totally regretted coming here in the first place with Soobin?

All these people dancing upon each other and making out in whatever they could find weren’t your thing. Every place your eyes landed upon was something you definitely needed the eye bleach for, it was too disgusting for you to even glance at once in a while. It could be the drinks that are making people like this, but where was their modesty? You wanted to choke from how much they shoved it in your face that they were happy. That’s also due to the fact that they made you feel extremely single as well, but not the point!

Instead you were standing near the “punch” table, staring down at your drink since it was so much better to look at instead of people eating their faces out. Some of the boys tried to get you notice them, but you paid no mind to them. No amount of catcalls about what you chose to wore or the seductive snickers they sent your way could pull you out from your trance of the hypnotizing cup. None of them were as cute as your standards anyway... which was still Yeonjun.

A cup wouldn’t hurt tonight. Just one cup would be fine, wouldn’t it? You winced at the taste, nose scrunching up with disgust when you downed it again. It was hasty to put some more in the cup while you poured the most you’d ever done before, taking no time to repeat the same action. You knew that in a couple of minutes- hours or so, you’d probably end up drunk and alone on the dance floor, but who cares. No but seriously, who cares? Not even yourself, so maybe once you could actually find a distraction which, or for that matter, who makes you feel better.

One cup.

Two cups.

Some things led to another and what surrounded you became blurry, hazy, and too raggedy to make sense of.

You weren’t expecting to hear a familiar voice from out the corner send shivers down your back, prodding at your heart as you almost spit back your drink into the same cup.

It was in no doubt, him.

A lump appeared in your throat, making you choke on your own spit. Soobin lied, that rat lied to you! Was it on purpose or that he really didn’t know? You sure had to give it back to him by socking him in the stomach once you made eye contact with him. Otherwise they were having a date here, but you knew Yeonjun well enough that he wouldn’t do this from your past experiences.

However, that wasn’t the point! You got back to your surroundings, taking sneaky glances at who you’d been dreading to see this whole month.

“Please, no! It can’t be him!” You whisper-shouted to no one, holding your breath as the same scent with the same voice inched closer to you in slow steps. It passed through your nose, making your stomach churn with anxiety as you heard his *feet draw nearer and nearer and nearer to you. You could feel the breath in your lungs depleting as your eyes widened with fear, too paralyzed in your spot to move away. Was he going to hurt you even more now?

Move, please! Just move your legs and leave!

“Y/N, baby...? Please tell me that’s you,” Yeonjun gently called, getting closer with slow stomps and an aching heart in mind. He took in your bored facial features, the thumping in his ears getting louder and louder as seconds passed. It had been a while since he clearly took a look at you; in response, his mind clearly blowing over with a thousand questions per minute. This had to be an illusion, tricking him that it wasn’t the you he was searching for this entire time. Maybe he was drunk, but it just couldn’t be something that wasn’t there! Who else could it be other than the one person he’d been pining for, for a month?

It was you, the only person he’d ever loved.

The word baby pricked your ear, and you turned to the side to see Yeonjun with tears in his eyes. They were sparkling from the lights all over the house where you could clearly see them, and you cringed, looking away from him. What a sight you didn’t ever want to see for the rest of your life. It only made things worse, obviously! This urge of wanting to baby him while asking him had to be suppressed or else you wouldn’t know what would happen. You were doing so well. You couldn’t give up now.

“Y/N? Why are you here? I thought you’d be home studying like you always do,” the boy muttered, his eyes focused on your every action as if you’d disappear any second. He was right, you completely wanted to disappear from his sight. Still, you didn’t want to look back at him in fear that your streak would end in a demise.

“Nothing, and it’s none of your business anyway. Please, leave me alone.”

He only shook his head at this- or what you assumed from the peripheral vision of your eyes- and jerked a thumb at the red solo cup you were holding. You decided to gaze at it intently like you had been doing this whole time, bringing it up to your lips when he shouted something right in your ear. It was quite different than what he was murmuring earlier, and you almost dropped the cup from your already shaking hands.

“Y/N, stop drinking! I told you it wasn’t good for you, don’t you remember?”

Yeah, but that was back then.

You shakily sighed, clenching your eyes shut. If you wouldn’t allow yourself to look at him, then let’s not do any of this at all. A headache would soon become of this, if his nagging voice kept annoying you any longer.

“It’s an acquired taste, you idiot. Just leave me alo-”

"Please, listen to me,” he cut in, easily begging in favor of you. Too curious to hear what his request was, you didn’t say anything.

“I don’t know how to start this off but... I know I’ll never love this way again, just like I do to you. Y/N, can’t you see?! I’m dying without you.” He moved closer to you and you looked down at the floor, too shaken up to say anything. His breath was near enough that you could feel it right against your forehead while he looked directly at you with piercing eyes. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, the words of help stuck in your throat as your poor heart hammered in your poor, wrenching chest.

He then held out his arm towards you, one so desperate you felt it through his heart that he wanted to let you hold on. You looked away from that too, not wanting the urge of finally seeing him to enrapture you like always.

“There’s no one else who can ever replace you. It’s me for you and you for me like we’ve always said... can’t you see it too?” His words were too affectionate to get away from now. What was this warm feeling you received upon hearing that? Gulping nervously, the last part of his words resonating in your mind before he drew one, last breath.

“I need you,” he delicately whispered.

There must’ve been glue beneath you, for you were trapped in that claustrophobic spot in the corner. Of all the words he could say, he just had to hit you right in the chest where everything ached... Suddenly, it had become so silent you could hear a pin drop. Your ears had to be tricking you. There was no way Yeonjun could ever say that to you, after all the things he did to you a month ago. He had to remember that, right?! You can’t go back to him no matter what he says! He doesn’t love you. He never did.

“I’m leaving. Have the cup if you want it,” you shoved it into his hands and right off the bat, he dropped it like it was nothing. A deep, permeating frown was on his face and he grabbed your hands with his warm ones, holding it as if it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. His thumb stroked the top of yours, clinging on tightly in desperation as if begging you to spare one more glance at him before this love was somewhat forbidden, somewhat over.

“Y/N, I know I messed up pretty bad, but please. Please, be safe out there. I won’t hold you back anymore. Tell me to take you home, and I’ll do it. I need you, just please,” He held onto your hand, his fingers tightly wound with yours and your eyes widened. Why did he have to sound so genuine?

“Have a good night, Yeonjun,” you glanced at him for the first and last time to see a glistening tear run down his cheek. He was the same. Yeonjun was the same. All the way to his forehead and lips, he was just Yeonjun. His messy, blue hair was still just as charming as your eyes ran through it. His lips were like you left them, and you could do anything just to show him how much you adored them again. His pure eyes were still like the last time you saw them, innocent and sweet like it held no true matter of what the world was like out there.

It broke you just as much as the last time you saw him. He and you were finally meeting each others’ eyes, but not in a way you ever expected. You wanted to be free from him by the time you saw him again, so that he’d realize you were doing well without him even if the case was far from that.

And you wanted to say that it was what he deserved but why in the hell was your heart saying so much differently?!

«────« ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

By the time you got out of where Yeonjun currently was, you could feel yourself losing breath even if you hadn’t walked very far. It was true that you walked as best as you could because the legs which carried you across the dance floor simply felt like dancing jelly; all the while you kept cursing yourself internally for even making a dry conversation with him.

The air felt tense now. You felt as if you could no longer relax inside that same house for any longer. Soobin wasn’t anywhere to be found, but you didn’t truly search for him in the first place because this was one night where you wanted to enjoy yourself for a little while.

Maybe some drinking would help it like it had done earlier. You wouldn’t have to worry anymore about Yeonjun if you just changed your mindset due to the drinks! Wobbling, you gripped onto one of the cups that distinctly wasn’t yours and took a few swigs out of it, hoping it would help ease your nerves.

Three cups. His smiling face appeared in the cup, and you winced at the bitter taste. Why were you torturing yourself with this bitterness?

Four cups. Well, looks like you were okay, you guessed.

Some things led to another and here you were. At the dance floor where you were swaying to the music the dj put on whether it was romantic or made to have a blast.

Throwing your hands up to the sky like all the other people were doing, you realized you were having so much fun- for a couple of minutes or even a couple of hours, you weren’t sure- until two, sly hands gripped at your waist. You instantly cowered away with widened eyes, backing away from instinct when they forcibly pulled you back in.

“Hey, sweet cakes,” they slurred quietly, their breath repulsed with beer mixing in with the tacky scent of cologne they chose. You immediately noted that it was a male’s voice, scrunching your nose up at the rudeness he plainly owned. The audacity he had to come up to you like this instead of introducing himself with a tender voice. And a pet name straight off too?! Give you a break.

It made you think about how Yeonjun always treated you nicely, naturally acting like a gentleman whose kindness made your heart swell with love.

“Hey, asshole, could you leave me alone?” Despite the fear rushing through your veins, you made sure to stand firm like everything was okay. Sooner or later, he had to get the hint. And if not... you glanced at your heels, then catching a look at his crotch. But we could say that was only Plan B if nothing else worked out.

He chuckled at what you assumed to be your insolence, a cocky grin crossing his attractive and confident face that only made you want to throw up.

“Aw, don’t be like that! I saw you dancing right across the room and I knew I had to get a piece of that,” he muttered, getting closer to you by each step. You couldn’t help but groan at his terrible advances towards you.

“Well, I don’t care. Leave me alone, please.”

The man sighed, rolling his eyes at your words. You hoped that with that action it meant he was finally leaving you alone, giving you the peace you so hopelessly needed after the whiplash that took place with your ex. But he only got close to you, an uneasy grimace taking place instead of the pretentious, arrogant grin from before. Your stomach bubbled with anxiety this time, not feeling much too comfortable in the moment to dance again.

“Help! Someone, please!” No matter how much you kicked at the bottom area of his body (and missing them completely since your aim terribly sucked when you became drunk), he wouldn’t budge to your surprise. You tried squirming away due to the resistance of being a damsel in distress like every saving person needed to be, but the man would clearly not move with all your efforts!

He puckered lips swiftly while you hurriedly tried to move away with the best of your abilities. You were sure as hell you couldn’t get out of there even if you used all the strength that was left in your body. With the wall pressed up against your back and the looming arms that trapped you in, there was no way you could leave without pleasing him. He was getting way too close for comfort and you closed your eyes shut, no longer feeling the courage to shout at anyone through the blasting music.

“Now, how about you give me a kiss from those pretty-”

“she said leave her alone, you asshole!”

In one, sweeping moment which had you off your feet, you felt someone’s back brush against your front while you squealed with a deadening fright. At the very last bit of being harassed, you never would’ve expected to be saved by the one and only who you thought was never going to come back. Hastily you opened your eyes, only to see Yeonjun whose chest was heaving up and down from how fast he ran just to protect you.

“Leave her alone or else I’ll be forced to do something much worse- something more horrendous than you could ever imagine.”

Seeing how tall Yeonjun was in comparison to him, he muttered something under his breath before moving along to another direction. And just like that, he was gone. Gone to another place where you hoped never to see him again to bother either of you.

You internally thanked the heavens, eyes tearing up from how grateful you were to not have been physically attacked.

Yeonjun speedily turned back to you, his face blooming into a worrisome expression. Lips forming into a pout, he cradled your cheek, checking everything from your face to your arms which were shaking terribly in order to be sure you were unscathed.

Even if you hated him so much at the moment, even if you thought he was a dreadful person for hurting you, even if what he was doing could be because it was the right thing to do and not because he loved you, this was the Yeonjun who you fell in love with in the first place. He was right in front of you again and no matter how much you wanted to back away from him, you couldn’t deny that he was your precious knight in shining armor.

“Yeonjun, thank you- I’m scare...” Your brain wasn’t able to form a comprehensive sentence, words jumbled together to create a nonsensical grumble you were sure he couldn’t understand. He just cooed at you softly, taking you into his warm arms which felt just as cozy as his sweet heart. Your face subconsciously buried upon his chest, nuzzling into it as he gently patted the top of your head.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m right here. There’s no need to worry. I’m right here, and I’ll always be right here.” His hug this time was made for you, and you happily sighed with a newfound relief. Tighter, you clung onto him, hoping he didn’t mind. A part of you knew that he didn’t care because he kept pressing those soft kisses he knew you adored onto the crown of your head.

Your brain was yelling at you that this was wrong, he could be toying with your heart again, but everything felt so right. Your heart wasn’t corresponding to your mind, telling you something the sober you wouldn’t be able to understand.

You were safe at last.

The both of you stayed like that for a few minutes with you sniffling into his embrace before he lightly rubbed your shoulder.

“Come on, baby, let’s go home to make you calm down,” he took your hand into his tenderly, treating it with the utmost respect. After all, it was what you deserved after all of that trauma.

All the way he made sure you were alright strolling beside him, protecting you like the world depended on it. His scent was too addictive and you followed him, holding his hand tightly while a soft smile became of his face.

Before you knew it, his steps led you to his house.

«────« ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

“Yeonjun, stop! You know I’m-” you erupted with an intermittent series of laughter, giggling over and over again whenever his fingers accidentally traced against your stomach. He was busy carrying you to wherever he was taking you, whining about how you didn’t deserve less from sleeping on somewhere comfortable.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” he giggled along with you, nuzzling his nose against yours. Anybody else who saw this could see that you both were clearly an affectionate mess, touching one another whenever they pleased.

Sooner than later after all that messing around, he laid you down on top of the bed as gently as he could, setting you down as if you were a fragile vase. His fingers lingered at your side before he cleared his throat, instantly pulling away at how quiet the atmosphere had gotten.

It was hard to see his face now; the dimness of the room and not to mention the side effects of being drunk disrupting your normal vision, but you could still see how intent he was on gazing at you. You grew shy at how long the duration of time he chose to stare at you with keen eyes, looking away compared to your strong, resistance persona from before.

Yeonjun found this little bit to be endearing, sketching out your whole, entire face in his head. To your adorable, button nose, to your cheeks which he oh so wanted to pinch, and to your lips that he was too afraid to kiss without permission, everything was simply perfect- a masterpiece that cannot be described in words. If it was up to Yeonjun, he would never look away because he was afraid he’d lose you again.

But this wasn’t right.

If he was there, it would only hurt you like you said earlier. His heart was screaming at him to let you know that he loved you more than anything else he’d ever laid eyes upon, but no, that wouldn’t be right either. He wasn’t sure how you’d react once he told you that. You’d leave him and rightfully so.

Even if he was drunk as hell, he knew you wouldn’t be too comfortable sleeping with him once you sobered up in the morning. Besides, it was his fault- he doesn’t get to treat you like the way he did before since he really has no right to.

Sighing, he turned to go until something grabbed onto his hand. His eyebrows rose up, but he didn’t allow himself to look back or else he’d betray all his morals.

Like he expected, you were the one holding him in place, your fingers sliding against his as they squeezed tightly.

“Yeonjun... stay? Just for tonight?”

«────« ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

A soft, genuine smile spread throughout his face as he turned over on his side, immediately expecting to touch someone that kept him company from last night. It had been a while since things were arranged like this, a month if he remembered correctly in his hazy mind. This was something he’d been desiring for such a long time already... he was going to make the most of it even if it was just a little bit.

Wait a minute... his fingers danced throughout the covers, eyebrows turning into a frustrated furrow and he finally realized what was happening.

But- but you were there with him last night! You weren’t an illusion! Your voice resonated through his head along the lines of asking him to stay, but you just weren’t there.

Panic swept throughout Yeonjun’s body as his eyes searched the whole entire room for any sign of her, looking at the door which was wide upon unlike last night.

“I messed up,” he groaned as he raked his fingers through his messy hair, heart dropping to his stomach as if it had weighed 1,000 pounds. His shaking, cold hand plummeted upon a pillow that was still warm and coated with her warm scent he always adored coming home to whenever he had a rough day.

But you were no longer there. You were gone.

“I lost her.”

---

Posted: 2/15/21- 6:30pm

Tags:

#txt fluff #txt angst #txt requests #txt reactions #txt imagines #txt scenarios #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun angst #yeonjun requests #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #txt ff #txt fic #txt fanfic #yeonjun ff #yeonjun fic #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun x reader

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monicashipslokius · 3 years

Text

Soulmates, Actually Pt 3

(read Part 1/Part 2)

Soulmates protect each other.

Loki paces the length of the small bathroom, turning after only two steps. On each turn they catch sight of themself in the mirror, as hard as they try not to. They don’t want to see the cowardice marring their own features. They don’t want to face themself, knowing they are standing here in relative safety at the cost of their soulmate’s.

Through the thin walls, Loki hears another pound on the front door. Mobius calls out, “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Loki stops pacing and presses their ear to the bathroom door, straining to hear outside of it.

After the creak of a door opening, Mobius says, “Can I help you?”

“Are you Mobius M. Mobius?” Thor has a weakness for Midgard and its people. Even as he speaks to Mobius now, his voice isn’t quite as booming as Loki is accustomed to.

“That’s me. Are you selling something?”

“I...? No. May I enter?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t. I’m kind of busy, you know?”

“I see,” Thor says. “Wait! I’m looking for someone.”

“Sorry,” Mobius says. The door creaks again, loud, like it tried to close but was blocked by a hard shoulder.

“I must insist,” Thor says, and there’s the booming authority Loki expected. Heavy footfalls step into the apartment. Loki instinctively leans away from the bathroom door. “Do you live here, or is this a closet?”

“Hey, why does everyone think that,” Mobius says, his following footsteps much softer. “My apartment is not that small.”

“It is,” Thor says, blunt as ever, though perhaps his own time on Midgard changed him a small amount, because he immediately adds, “But... nice. Very... brown.” A long, awkward pause. “Seeing this... I feel apologies are in order. I cannot imagine Loki hiding here.”

Loki knows that their usual love of decadent flair is what’s saving them now, but the words still sting. It’s one thing for them to think disparagingly about their new home. It is entirely another for someone else to speak badly of it. Even Thor.

Maybe especially Thor.

“It seems silly now,” Thor says. “I had heard you are their soulmate.”

“It doesn’t seem all that silly,” Mobius says, voice much softer.

“I mean no offense,” Thor says. “Only that you are not their type.”

“Oh? Too old?”

Thor laughs. “Too human. But consider yourself lucky, friend."

"I don't know, I'd think it'd be okay to be the soulmate of a god."

"Not this god," Thor says, and that familiar self-hatred claws at Loki's ribcage from the inside out. They place their hand over their chest, physically pressing down on the feeling, but it does not stop.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mobius clips his words short.

Loki braces themself as Thor continues, "They never stay with anyone for long. They haven’t met a person yet who could hold their interest.”

“Maybe they just hadn’t met the right person,” Mobius says, stronger.

"Right people tend not to hang around my brother. You may have noticed that they are..." Thor pauses and Loki holds their breath. "A villain." Thor, at least, sounds pained to say it, though that is little comfort for Loki.

The word shouldn't hurt them. It is true. Despite their glorious purpose, they will never be seen as a hero, but only ever as the one who stands in the hero's way.

“Or instead," Mobius says, stronger still. Irritation oozes from his words. "Maybe they got so used to being seen as a villain that they started to think that’s all they are.”

The scratching in Loki's chest slows until it ceases entirely. Mobius.

But the calming effect of Mobius's defensive fury does not linger.

Thor holds his tongue a moment, and in that moment, a thick dread buds in the pit of Loki’s stomach. Thor may be oblivious at times, but he is not totally obtuse. And Mobius is angry enough for even him to take notice.

“Have you seen Loki, Mobius M. Mobius?”

“I think you should leave now,” Mobius says.

“So it’s true?” Thor asks, like he still doesn’t believe it. “You are Loki’s soulmate?”

“You don’t have to say it like that.”

“They must be deceiving you. Tell me where they are, and I will take them back to Asgard. Then you will be safe.”

“Loki’s not going anywhere with you,” Mobius says, stupidly brave. Stupidly perfect.

Outside a storm brews. Thunder rumbles the walls, as loud as Thor’s voice. “Do not stand in my way, Mobius M. Mobius.”

“No, you don’t get to order me around,” Mobius says. “You barge into my home and try to kidnap my soulmate. You didn’t even do it at a reasonable hour. We were asleep!”

“I am a god.” Lightning cracks outside the window, the light so bright, it flashes under the door of the bathroom. “You are a human.”

Mobius huffs out a breath. “I’m not giving them up. You’ll just have to kill me.”

Every nerve in Loki’s body, every pulse in their brain, the very breath in their lungs - all scream, No!

The bathroom door flies off its hinges from the force of Loki pushing through. Their daggers are in their hands, their armor has replaced their silk pajamas - there is no room for softness here.

Mobius glances behind him from where he’s standing, blocking the bathroom from Thor in the kitchen. “You broke the door,” Mobius says, entirely too calm for a man who was just about to throw his life away.

“We are going to discuss your blatant disregard for your own fragile life,” Loki tells him, stalking forward to Mobius’s side.

“I had it under control,” Mobius says.

Loki sucks in a deep breath to try to tamper down their roaring rage. “No longer will you risk yourself for me.”

“No, sorry, Loki.” Mobius crosses his arms. “You don’t get to boss me around either. I told you, soulmates protect each other. And that’s that.”

“You stupid, brave, impossible man.”

“Dying for you would be worth it.”

“And what am I to do at that point? Hm? Bid your corpse a fond farewell and move along?”

Mobius startles, like he hadn’t thought ahead that far. “Yeah, I guess.”

If Loki wasn’t holding daggers, they would grip him by the shoulders and shake him. “You have no idea what you are to me. You have no perception of how long I have waited for you. For us. For this tiny little room. For everything we shared last night. And all that we will share.”

Mobius’s eyes widen. “Loki -”

“No, Mobius. You will not be throwing your life away. Not now. Not ever. Not while I have strength enough to hold a blade.”

Mobius blinks. The surprise on his face lasts a moment longer, then softens entirely into fondness. “Let’s go to the store later. Buy some stuff. Spruce this place up a little. We can get a plant or two. And maybe a new bathroom door.”

Loki exhales, and the harshest of their anger slips away. “Only if we also buy you new clothes.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with my clothes?” Mobius is smiling now.

Loki almost mirrors it. Until he remembers their thunderous brother occupying the entire minuscule kitchen. Thor seems to lack his usual righteousness. Instead, he looks between Loki and Mobius like he has no idea what to make of them. His mouth hangs open but no sound comes out.

A moment, Thor tries, “Brother, you...” He closes his mouth. Opens it. “You... actually care for this little man?”

Loki’s answer comes easier than even they expected, “Yes.”

“I’m not that little,” Mobius says.

Outside the storm clears away and starlight returns. Inside, Thor lowers his hammer to his side, no longer holding it ready to fight. He stares at Loki for a long moment. “We thought you were dead. We mourned you.”

Loki’s impulse is to argue. They aren’t yet numb to the pain of Odin’s deception. Of Loki’s own monstrous truth.

But instead of drudging forward that pain, Loki draws strength from Mobius beside them. From the comfort of their home. From the promise of buying new drapes and bed sheets.

“I’m not going back,” Loki says, hating the way their voice cracks. Mobius inches closer to their side, and they stand taller.

“You cannot rule Midgard,” Thor says.

Loki glances at Mobius, who gives them a soft smile.

“Mostly,” Loki says, “I want to buy drapes.”

Mobius’s smile widens, and he dips his head, as if to hide it. Loki loses themself in the sight of such softness and warmth, until they remember their brother again.

Thor watches them, his confusion palpable. “This is not at all as father said it was.”

Loki tenses at the mention of Odin.

“A lot’s different since yesterday,” Mobius says. “Dubuque can really change a person, you know?” Mobius winks at Loki, and a fresh wave of comfort rolls through them.

“Yes,” Loki says. “Dubuque.”

“Perhaps I could return without you,” Thor says, confusion shifting gradually into something more sure. “If you hand over the tesseract.”

Loki pointedly refrains from glancing at the coat closet. As, to Loki’s surprise, does Mobius. Surely he had seen them place the scepter within. Surely he could parse together what the tesseract could be.

“You wouldn’t need it to buy drapes.” Thor’s grip tightens on the handle of Mjolnir, but he does not yet raise it again.

Loki’s body tenses like a bowstring. There is no way out of this then, without a fight. “You have no comprehension of its power, brother. Of what I could have, what I could achieve with it in my possession. With what I’ve been promised.”

“Promised?” Thor asks. “Promised by who?”

A chill creeps over Loki’s skin, inch by slow inch. They think of the creatures that invade their mind, that found them when they fell from the Bifrost.

You could have this, they whisper, even now. You are nothing without this.

“Loki?” Mobius whispers. “Are you okay?”

Shaking their mind free from the dark grasp, Loki thoughts travel instead to those same creatures wrapping Mobius in their viciousness. Tearing him down. Exploiting his deepest vulnerabilities.

The cold runs deep, all consuming.

With the tesseract still in Loki’s possession, maybe they could protect Mobius. Or, the opposite. Maybe those creatures will never stop hunting them until Loki finally does as they command.

When it was Loki alone, forgotten and fallen, following the icy commands was no question, when both vengeance and a crown were promised.

But Loki is no longer alone.

To Loki’s surprise, concern covers Thor’s face as well, and he has taken a step closer, hand half-lifted, as if in a halted attempt to reach out to them.

“The tesseract will not bring you happiness, Loki,” Thor says, and motions toward Mobius. “Not in the way your soulmate can. You must make a choice.”

“They don’t have to chose,” Mobius says. “I’m staying with them, regardless of what they want to do.”

“But they must,” Thor tells him. “I will be leaving here with either Loki or the tesseract. I’d prefer to do it without a fight.”

Mobius takes a step forward. “I already told you, Loki isn’t going anywhere.”

“If forced, I will take you both to Asgard,” Thor says.

Loki thinks of Mobius standing before Odin, of all the brave, protective things he would say to the All-Father in Loki’s defense. And Loki thinks of how fast Odin would cut him down, Loki’s soulmate or not.

“No,” Loki says.

Soulmates protect each other.

Loki disappears their daggers, then goes to the closet and draws open the door. They reach through Mobius’s brown suits and retrieve the scepter. It’s cold in their hand.

They could grab Mobius and teleport away. Together, they could go anywhere. Thor would need time to track them down. But they’d have to keep running. They’d never be able to stop.

Loki thinks of Mobius, sweating in the desert. Humans are weak, fragile things. Mobius would not be able to sustain that kind of life.

The scepter, the creatures, whisper to Loki, He will die anyway. Why shouldn't you have more?

"All my life, I’ve been in your shadow,” Loki says to Thor. Thor lifts his hammer, readying for the fight to come. “This is my chance to carve my own path. To find my own throne. The Midgardians are hapless. They are in desperate need of a ruler.”

Loki looks at Mobius and finds him watching Thor, body tense like he intends to jump in the way if Thor were to attack. He will die anyway.

“There is no happiness in the promise of a throne, Loki.” Thor frowns, and after a brief, sideways glance at Mobius, his eyes turn sad. “We have waited the same for a soulmate. You have found yours, while I am still waiting. I ask you, who lives in envy of who?”

A new feeling twists inside Loki - something like... pity? For Thor? No. Impossible. Thor has had a life filled with all of his whims being catered to. Ever the favorite. The favored.

Yet.

Thor has no Mobius of his own.

He will die anyway. But. Not yet. Not yet.

“To be honest,” Mobius says, drawing Loki’s attention. “Humans are kind of a drag. We fight all the time, can’t agree on anything. I know that’s half why you think you can fix it all, but really, it sounds like a bigger headache than it’s worth.” He shrugs. “You and I, we’ll do whatever you want. I’ve got your back 100%. But... if you were King of Earth, do you get any vacation days? Cause I got some places I really want to take you.”

Looking at Mobius, hearing his words, listening to the steady cadence of his voice, Loki warms from the inside out.

“We need to go to the beach. You saw my jetski picture, right?” Mobius turns to Thor. “You ever been on a jetski?”

Thor blinks at him. “...No?”

“You’ll love it. It’s so much fun. Out on the waves, just you and the ocean - with the wind in your hair, and the sun all bright.” Mobius turns his smile back to Loki, and Loki doubts any sunshine could ever be as brilliant as him. “What do you think, Loki?”

The cruel whispers grow dim. Thoughts of, You are nothing without a crown, are replaced with, What worth is a crown without him?

The chill burns away, until the scepter is too cold, too painful to hold.

Loki moves closer to the kitchen. Thor raises his hammer. Mobius hurries forward.

But everyone stops when Loki surrenders the scepter - the tesseract - to Thor. As soon as it is gone from their hand, Loki feels a heavy weight lifted away. The chill leaves entirely, and their mind is silent once more.

“You’ve made the right choice, brother,” Thor says. They lower Mjolnir to the ground to look closer at the scepter.

“Odin will not be pleased when you return without me,” Loki says.

Thor hums. “I will pass along your promise to behave yourself.”

“I made no such promise.” With Loki’s new weightlessness, a small, sly smirk slips onto their lips. It's shaky and unsure, but Thor doesn't mention it.

Thor slides his gaze to Mobius. “I think you will have your hands too full to do otherwise, with how quickly this one throws himself into trouble.” He pitches his voice low. “I like him. He’s small, but brave.”

Pride swells in Loki. They didn’t need Thor’s approval, but having it...

“Mobius M. Mobius!” Thor walks to Mobius and draws him into a tight hug. “Now my brother. I await the day our paths cross again!”

Mobius awkwardly pats him on the back. “Yeah, sure! Sounds great.”

As they break, Loki begins to steer Thor toward the door. Thor looks as if he also wants to wrap Loki in a hug, but thankfully thinks better of it. Instead, he simply says, "We will see each other again."

"We will," Loki says, a promise. And for now, it is enough.

Thor starts forward, when Mobius calls out, “Wait, you forgot your hammer.”

Loki and Thor both turn away from the door, toward the kitchen - where Mobius stands, hand gripping Mjolnir’s handle, holding it up off the ground. He brings it forward and hands it to Thor, who stares at him, mouth agape.

Mobius says, “Surprisingly light?”

Loki bites back a smile. They knew their soulmate was no ordinary mortal.

Thor looks at Mobius like he’s seeing him for the first time. “Only to those who are worthy. You are small in stature, but not in heart, Mobius M. Mobius.”

“Uh, thanks?” Mobius says. Softer, he adds, “I’m really not that small.”

When Thor is gone, with the slightly damaged front door bolted behind him, Mobius turns to Loki and says, “Told you I’d get rid of him.”

Loki reaches out, grabs Mobius by the shoulders, and pulls him into their embrace. They do not let go for a long time.

Mobius holds them back, nose tucked into the crook of Loki’s neck and shoulder. “I would have followed you,” he says, voice muffled. “You want to be king? We’d make it happen. You didn’t have to give it up.”

Loki will tell him of the whispers and the cold, of the dark promises made. Later. “Perhaps another time,” they say. “Plenty of life to find a throne of my own.” Though as the words leave them, they know they are only half true. Plenty of time for Loki. No time at all for Mobius. The creatures no longer whisper in Loki's mind but they still hear their mocking, He will die.

“I was thinking we could get a couple chairs while we’re out.”

Loki can’t help and doesn’t stop their grin, even as their heart aches. “See? My fortune is already changing.”

“I’ll buy you the best throne,” Mobius says. “You ever heard of La-Z-Boy?”

Loki closes their eyes, presses their forehead to Mobius's shoulder, and wonders how, with the cruel inevitability of human mortality, they will ever go on without this man.

#i wrote this #lokius #wowki #loki x mobius #fair warning this is pretty long if you pop open the readmore #ao3 link will come tomorrow #thor /#part 3 of 5 #soulmate au #avengers 1 divergence

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yslkook · 3 years

Text

sonder

pairing: taehyung x reader (exes au) summary: sonder: the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. or

“What am I about to say?”

“That nothing has worked out for you since we dated, because even though the women you date are all wonderful, all you see in them is me,” You exhale, “I might have to kick you out if you say something as predictable as that.”

word count: 3459 warnings: alcohol, smut (penetrative sex, oral f receiving, tae is possessive for like half a second, some tears) a/n: inspired by these pictures of taehyung. also if this feels rushed, that was on purpose- i wanted to make them kinda messy

Your second whiskey of the evening burns something bitter in the back of your throat, but you welcome it. It’s a welcome respite from the shitty week you’ve had, but that’s besides the point.

One of your favorite things to do to unwind after a tough week is to people watch, and one of your favorite places to do so was at the bars near your apartment. You liked to create vivid stories for these people that walked through the bar- who they were, what their backstories were. It was an amusing game to you, and even if both Yoongi and Hobi told you that you needed a better hobby, you’d only scoff at them.

Speaking of, Yoongi was supposed to be joining you soon. But apparently he’s running late. About fifteen minutes late, according to his cryptic text from earlier:

yoongi: running late, im bringing a friend

You think nothing of it, not really. And you just sip on your whiskey, watching a pair of new faces walk through the door from your stealthy booth in the corner of the bar.

You should’ve known that when Yoongi had said he was bringing a friend, it meant Taehyung. You briefly remember Yoongi telling you that Taehyung had moved back to the city a few weeks ago.

Taehyung, who had moved away halfway across the world years ago as a novice in the art history world. Taehyung, who had broken your delicate heart and taken pieces of it with him more than five years ago.

But even so, you harbor no ill feelings towards the man. He did what he had to do, and you did as well. It’s been so long now, that he should almost be a stranger to you.

Yoongi watches the way your lips part in surprise at the sight of Taehyung- he knows there are still lingering feelings, maybe a lack of closure. Maybe something else that you don’t feel like discussing or diving into. You send him a hearty death glare his way but Yoongi ignores it.

You and Taehyung are nothing if not stubborn. Taehyung hasn’t stopped asking about you since he moved back to the city.

After all, you’ve hardly dated since Taehyung broke up with you. You had sincerely, genuinely believed that he was your one and only, your forever. It just hadn’t felt right, not with anyone else. So you just stopped, not wanting to force love with people if your heart really wasn’t in it.

And now, Taehyung is standing in front of you, dressed in expensive black from head to toe, looking as if he had just walked off of the runway before meeting up with Yoongi. His hair is longer than you ever remembered it being, two small silver hoops in his ears.

Handsome. He looks healthy and warm. He looks good.

You clear your throat and wave at both of them, opening your arms for a hug. Yoongi’s hug is brief, you see the man at least once or twice a week, but you pinch his waist for ambushing you like this. You gasp softly when Taehyung wraps his arms around you. You’d apparently forgotten how his body just fits into yours. Even after all this time.

It truly hasn’t been that long, but it feels like it.

“Hi,” Taehyung breathes into your hair. You should pull away, you really should. You can’t even meet Yoongi’s eyes, too bewitched by the hold that Taehyung somehow still has on you.

You feel as though your heart is running a mile a minute, and yet it feels like you’re greeting an old friend after a long time.

“Taehyung,” You say softly, his name sounding like a ghost of a memory, “It’s been a long time.”

You sit in your booth and Taehyung sits next to Yoongi. It feels like three old friends catching up after a while, not like if two exes are sitting with their mutual best friend trying not to catch glimpses of the other.

You take a sip of your drink with shaky hands. It’s going to be a long night.

At some point during the evening, Yoongi claims that Hoseok has an emergency and that he has to go. You think he planned this (both him and Hobi), because there’s a meddling glint in his eye that you haven’t seen recently.

You panic, scrambling to somehow get Yoongi to stay, so that you’re not alone with Taehyung. You’re afraid of what you might do or say. Or for what you might not do or say.

And yet, talking to him comes like second nature. Maybe it’s because you have years of history between the both of you, even if you haven’t spoken in the last five.

It hurt so much. When he broke up with you, you mourned the loss of your best friend. He had said you could try to be friends, but you couldn’t handle it at the time. And then more time went by… and suddenly, he was barely a thought in your passing mind. Yet, he still lingered, in your mannerisms. Maybe some part of you was still waiting on him. Which wasn’t healthy… But it wasn’t hurting anyone. And besides, you were okay. But you had never really believed in soulmates until Taehyung. Perhaps it was the lack of closure.

At least that’s what you convinced yourself, because seeing Taehyung like this, laughing and talking to you as if no time has past throws you for a loop.

Mainly because… it’s so easy to fall into conversation with him. It’s so easy to laugh with him and make him laugh. You enjoy learning about everything he’s been up to over the last few years, all of his adventures, the sights he’s seen. How enthusiastic he is, how he finds beauty in everything.

You both had always been such good friends. Maybe that’s what you miss more than anything. Somehow, hours go by and you both are left to be the only ones in the bar-

“Hey what brought you here to begin with?” Taehyung asks, holding the door open for you, “Had a bad day? You still like people watching?”

“Yeah,” You say wistfully, “Something like that.”

He squeezes your shoulder in reassurance. You catch his eyes in the streetlights and feel your heart swell.

Even if it’s been more than five years since you saw Taehyung last, since you felt his fingers thread in between yours… it still feels so familiar. It’s funny, isn’t it? How so much time can go by, how you can be strangers on paper but feel like you’ve known his soul for this entire time.

His smile glows in the moonlight. A light breeze cradles him, carding through his dark strands of hair gently. You can vividly recall a time when it was you- your fingers running through his hair through soft laughs and unkept promises.

You wonder if your heart is still his, after all this time. It’s not as if you’ve had many people to compare your all-consuming five year relationship to in the last few years. Every person you met, you found yourself comparing to your ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t healthy.

And you had known that he had moved on from your own mutual friends. You don’t even know if he’s single right now, but you knew he was in a relationship a year ago… Or maybe two? Maybe you should care a little more, but you’ll blame it on the whiskey for causing you to squeeze his hand a little harder and lean into him.

Taehyung looks exactly the same, he feels exactly the same as he did when you were twenty-two and stupid enough to believe that you would make it. He’s always felt like he fit the messy edges of your soul perfectly, and even now, you feel that familiar warmth of his soul rubbing up against yours.

Even as he’s chatting away, eyes crinkling in genuine happiness, you’re hardly listening. You’re only thinking about how nice he feels next to you.

Serendipity. It must be serendipity, for him to show up in your life again when you had been teetering on the edge of misery and self-deprecation. Your head is jumbled, brain filled with nothing but sweet memories of him and your heart is aching for something you might never have again.

But all you have is now. So when Taehyung twirls you easily and sways with you under the dimmed light of a street lamp, pulling a surprised laugh out of you, you make your decision.

“Where’s your new big girl apartment?” Taehyung asks, a hint of longing in his tone.

“It’s not new,” You scoff, “But I live, like, five blocks away.”

Taehyung takes your hand in his again, asking you questions about your apartment. How you found it, do you like it, do you have roommates. To which you shrug and tell him that you like being alone. Something shifts in his eyes, something sad. He recalls your thirst for life when you both had been together- always ready to try something new, always wanting to be around people, always dreaming with your head in the sky.

He wonders what changed. You’re so quiet, eyes a little dark, shoulders tense. Maybe that’s what growing up is. Maybe that’s what tumbling out of your early twenties and into your late twenties is.

Or maybe you’ve just changed in general. It’s been a long time, after all. Since you both mutually broke up, since he moved halfway across the globe.

But still, he catches sparks, flutters of embers in your gaze. He catches the tender, playful excitement that you’ve always held near and dear to your heart- it’s what made you and him such a good team years ago.

Talking to him is so easy, not that you thought it would be difficult to begin with. It’s always been easy with him, easy to laugh with him, easy to love him.

The front door of your apartment building comes into view. Your hand is still in his. Taehyung hesitates on letting you go, but he does.

“It was nice to see you,” Taehyung murmurs, allowing himself the brush of the back of his hand on your cheekbone, “I mean it.”

“Yeah. I’m glad I ran into you, too. Even if I was stuffing my face with whiskeys,” You grin and lean into his touch, “Even if Yoongi probably played both of us.”

“Don’t know when you became such a whiskey girl.”

“It’s been years, Taehyung. I’m sure I’ve got a few more surprises for you,” You say, smile falling into something more intense, “Wanna come find out what they are?”

“Thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.”

Taehyung’s lips are on yours the minute you close the door to your apartment. His hands are molded to your hips over your clothes and you instantly moan into his mouth loudly, slipping your tongue past his lips eagerly. Drinking him up as if he’s been yours to drink up this entire time.

You fumble with the buttons of his peacoat, nearly ready to yank the buttons off. Patience has never been your strong suit, but you just want to feel him.

But the minute you pull away for air, you re-center yourself. No matter how enticing his bitten lips are…

“Are you single?” You ask bluntly.

“Why?” Taehyung says with an arch of his stupidly perfect eyebrow, “You falling in love with me again?”

“Shut up, you wish. I thought you had a girlfriend,” You say pointedly, toeing out of your heels and hanging your jackets up in the coat closet.

“You keeping tabs on me? I knew it,” Taehyung says, looking a little too smug about it.

“Shut the fuck up,” You swat his chest, “Yoongi may have mentioned it to me once or twice.”

More like he told you multiple times when you were drunk, wasted and crying over Taehyung because you never truly got over him. In some corner of the deepest part of your heart, you never got over him.

“I’m not dating anyone. Or talking, seeing anyone,” Taehyung shrugs, “That didn’t work out. Nothing’s really worked out, not since…”

“Don’t say it,” You mutter, “Don’t say what I think you’re about to say.”

You need another drink. So you pour yourself another hefty glass of whiskey and pour one out for him, too.

“What am I about to say?”

“And if it’s true?”

“Then I’m definitely kicking you out. Might need another five years to see you again,” You whisper. He moves closer to you, tentatively holding your hips in his. You don’t push him away, only looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I missed you so fucking much,” Taehyung breathes into your hair, wrapping you in a hug, “You have no idea. And you? Are you single?”

“No, you missed the idea of me. Of us,” You mumble, but you’re unable to pull out of his hold, “We were young, we had dreams… And yeah, I’m single.”

“We could’ve made it work-”

“Taehyung, stop it,” You mutter, throat going dry with barely concealed yearning for him, “We both made the choices we made for a reason. You’re here and I’m here for a reason. Don’t wanna talk about what if’s with you anymore. Just kiss me, Taehyung-”

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice, cupping your face in his big hands and pressing his soft lips to yours instantly. Time feels like nothing between you both, but it feels like he’s trying to learn this new version of you through your kiss.

You’re undecided on whether this is a one time thing, but all you know is that you want him. And you want him now. His hands are warm over your thighs as he lifts you up in his arms, your chest plastered to his. His hair has gotten longer, dark strands effortlessly falling into his forehead.

He’s so handsome and you swoon when his lips press against your neck. Taehyung still remembers what you like, what your favorite spots are.

It’s almost as if no time has passed. You both ignore it, ignore the nostalgia creeping into the crevices of your kisses.

“Mmm, my bedroom’s that way,” You mumble hoarsely, pulling away with hooded eyes.

“You’ll have to give me a proper tour later,” Taehyung says, his voice somehow even deeper.

“Yeah, you’d be so lucky,” You snort and Taehyung shuts you up with another searing kiss. He doesn’t miss the meticulous way you’ve decorated your cozy home, pops of color and decorations that are so very you in every corner. He sees a small photo collage in the corner of your bedroom.

Once upon a time, a photo of you and him would’ve been the crown jewel.

“Tae,” You mumble, “Stop, focus on me. I want you-”

So he does.

Your legs close around Taehyung’s head, his tongue slipping into your glossy folds for the third time that evening. He can’t get enough of your soft noises, even when you’re telling him it’s too much, you widen your legs for him to slot in between them easily. Taehyung hikes your legs over his shoulder, nearly rutting into the bed at the sight of your quivering bottom lip and the way your tits bounce.

He palms you lewdly, squeezing and pinching. “You’re so wet,” Taehyung moans into your pussy, “Fuck, baby-”

“Taehyung,” You breathe, voice sounding broken even to your own ears, “I want you, I want your cock…”

“You sure you want this?” Taehyung asks, his voice strained.

“Yeah,” You nod eagerly, “Do you?”

With a nod, “Do you have condoms?” He rasps, nose nudging your clit.

“Y-yeah,” You moan, “The nightstand, first drawer. Brand new box, never before used-”

“Really?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow, “When was the last time, baby?”

“The last time what,” You whine, tugging on his forearm.

“Last time you had sex,” Taehyung says, pulling the box out from your nightstand.

“Uhhh… when you broke up with me?” You shrug sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Shit,” He groans, “Seriously?”

You don’t miss how he palms himself over his pants at your words. He’s always had a hint of possessiveness in him, and you already know that he’s trying to process that the last person, the only person to have ever seen you like this was him.

“Yeah, I didn’t have luck the way you did, I guess,” You say lightly, “Not that I was trying very hard, though.”

“Damn, baby, nobody’s been loving you right, huh?” Taehyung says, pulling out a condom from the box with shaky hands.

“Yeah. Not even you,” You say. Maybe that was mean, but his eyes flash at you in warning.

“Come here,” He says, a soft demand, “Did you miss me?”

You shrug playfully and unbutton his pants for him. He swats your roaming hands away and they land on his belly, your nails scratching lazily. Taehyung has always looked like a vision, but seeing him like this, hovering above you with golden, tanned skin and his jaw locked, looking every bit like the man of your dreams...

He commands, demands respect. Your pussy throbs just from the sight of him shucking off his pants and his boxers in one go, tugging his hard and heavy cock roughly with one hand.

You swear you drool. Your head is empty, only thoughts of him, his big hands, broad shoulders-

“Did you miss me, baby,” Taehyung asks again, voice a little rougher, a little harsher.

“Does it matter,” You challenge him, “You only want my pussy-”

“And you only want my cock-”

“So give it to me then. Since you know me so well,” You sneer. You gasp in surprise when he swats your thigh and then moan his name when he pushes the head of his cock into you without much warning.

“You talk so fucking much,” Taehyung breathes, cupping your cheeks with one hand.

“Shit,” You gasp, “You’re so fucking big-”

You squeeze your eyes shut and Taehyung stills inside of you, giving you time to adjust to him. He peppers sweet kisses over your forehead, a contrast to his previous words. You cannot believe that somehow, Taehyung is back in your bed, his cock buried deep within you.

The thought makes your eyes water. You’re a little overwhelmed.

“What’s wrong,” Taehyung asks when he sees your wet eyes, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Nothing, you’re just so big,” You mumble, avoiding his eyes. Taehyung looks at you suspiciously but says nothing.

He’s the only one who’s ever had you like this. The thought makes something in his belly flare, the urge to leave bruises on your welcoming hips and pound into your wet pussy growing and growing with each second.

But he doesn’t move, not until you give him the okay. Taehyung’s fingers are tight around your hips, loose around your neck, his lips plastered to any inch of skin he can reach. With the first rock of his hips into you, you wrap your legs around his waist and shudder in his arms.

He nuzzles your neck, chest plastered against yours. Your nails are tightly pressed into his biceps, surely leaving marks for tomorrow morning. Your soft cries of his name sound like sweet rapture, something he’s been searching for for years. Or something that he had and something he let go of.

And then he wonders how he ever spent the last few years not buried in your pussy, when you feel something like home to him.

“You know, I moved back here a few weeks ago,” Taehyung says, turning on his side to face you, hands gentle over your chest.

“Oh, I know. Yoongi and Hobi wouldn’t shut up about it. They really missed you,” You reply, not meeting his eyes.

“And you? Did you?” Taehyung asks again. You hesitate.

“Does it matter, Taehyung?” You mumble, brushing his hair away from his eyes, “Does it change anything?”

“It could. If you wanted it to,” He murmurs, pulling you into his chest. His fingers are light over your spine, but you scoff.

“Don’t say shit like that,” You sigh, pressing your hand to his face.

He only laughs with his big, bright smile and pulls you in closer, kissing your forehead. “I can leave you know. If you want me to. If this is... weird.”

“I think we’re way past weird, Taehyung. If I wanted you to leave, I would’ve kicked you out by now,” You say easily and ignore the way his smile sends unfamiliar butterflies through your belly, “Go to sleep. I’ll decide if I wanna kick you out in the morning.”

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung fic

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lottiebagley · 3 years

Text

Cardigan- Cedric Diggory

Vintage tee, brand new phone High heels on cobblestones When you are young, they assume you know nothing

She would never forget the very first time she spoke to Cedric Diggory. She had been sorted into Gryffindor and he had been sorted into Hufflepuff, they'd seen each other around and even shared some classes but it was February of first year by the time they ever actually spoke.

She was best friends with George Weasley, she spent every waking moment with the twins, Angelina and Lee. The whole year knew of the little group and how inseparable they truly were, they'd gained the reputation of being funny pranksters and seemed to light up every room they went in.

To Cedric though, it hadn't been the group that lit up the rooms, it had been her. Her bright smile, her loud laughter. There was something about her that Cedric found impossible to ignore and he loved it. He was in an internal battle, on one hand he desperately wanted to speak to her, to know her, to be the reason she was laughing. On the other he was an 11 year old with a crush and was nervous.

He had decided automatically he was glad to talk to her though.

It was Saturday morning and he had been minding his own business, walking through the corridors to go and meet some friends after having been up to library to finish an essay and she had ran straight into him.

"Sorry, oh my merlin, I am so sorry," She speaks quickly, bending down to pick up the papers that she had knocked from her hands

"It's no bother," He smiles politely, his stomach full of butterflies when her hand brushes his. "I'm-"

"Cedric, sorry I'm not a creep I swear, we are in the same Charms class, you sit behind me" She cuts him off, he blushes brightly at her even acknowledging his existence.

"And Herbology," He smiles

"I'm-"

"Y/N, I know," it's her turn to blush and Cedric can feel his heart flip in his chest, she opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by loud footsteps sprinting towards them

"LET'S GO Y/N! FILCH IS COMING!" Cedric isn't sure which twin it is, but they grab her hand and continue running, the girl is quick to join in turning back to shout over her shoulder

"Sorry again Cedric!" she calls, he stands dumbstruck with a look of awe in his eyes as he listens to her laughter grow faint as she rounds the corner.

Sequin smile, black lipstick Sensual politics When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Cedric doesn't work up the courage to speak to his crush again for a while. She simply isn't interested. At 11 years old she cared more for having fun with her friends, by 12 she's beginning to notice boys and sure enough she realises the Hufflepuff boy is cute but thinks nothing of it. At 13 she gets her first boyfriend, he's a Ravenclaw and her best friend hates him.

Cedric has his first kiss, he has girls that admit to fancying him and a few even catch his eye. None last though, because for every time he sees them he also sees her. Smiling and laughing with her friends and looking utterly ethereal.

It's when they're 14 that they next speak. It's their fourth year and Cedric is on his way back from quidditch practice when he hears a faint crying coming from an empty class room. Being kind to his very core he doesn't think twice about poking his head round the door to see if whoever is in there is okay. It's only the second day of the school year and he expects to find a scared first year.

His heart breaks though at the sight of her. She's crying into her hands and sniffling loudly, seeming to not even notice someone come in.

"Hi," he speaks gently, not wanting to startle her. She look up immediately and the sight twists the knife in his chest. Her eyes are puffy and red rimmed, her makeup streaking on her cheeks. She immediately pulls her hands to her face, trying to wipe her tears away with her hands.

"Hi Cedric," she tries to smile but it comes out more like a grimace

"Can I sit?" He questions softly, she nods and he sinks onto the floor next to her, his back against the wall.

"Sorry, I look all gross and snotty," she sighs, he chuckles a little

"You're beautiful," not one part of him is lying or trying to make her feel better. He truly believed her to be the most beautiful thing on the entire planet. "Do you want to talk about it?" he offers

"I-you- we don't know each other I'm not going to make you sit through all my problems,"

"Hey, I offered," He assures, gently placing a hand on her knee and giving it a little squeeze.

"You sure? it's a lot and-"

"I am certain,"

"My boyfriend, well I guess not anymore. He broke up with me because he started talking to Ella McKinley over summer and I really liked him and we've ben together for like seven months and I thought he liked me but obviously not and I can't even talk to my friends about it. Freddie and Lee would find the whole thing hysterical, not because they don't care, they just wouldn't get that it feels like I will never be good enough for anyone. Angelina is friends with Ella and I don't want to make things awkward for her. And Georgie, he's the best friend on the planet and he would do anything to make me happy but he was right the whole time and I can't bare the look of pity and he will just know that he was right but he won't say it because I am a pathetic, crying mess. Plus, Fred and George will go and try and fight him and everyone will talk about it and I just wish that I was enough cause I really liked him," She rants with tears streaming down her cheeks and Cedric wants nothing more than to take her pain and put in on himself a 1000 times before she ever has to feel it.

"Hey, you look at me," He prompts, gently moving her face from where she's staring at her lap to face him. "You are so much more than enough. You're beautiful, truly I mean that. And you are so funny and kind, I've never heard a soul speak badly of you, plus I'm in half your classes and you are at the top of all of them so clearly you are smart. Alex Mayfield is stupid for ever letting you go and I promise you he will regret it,"

She doesn't even think twice before diving into his chest to hug him, his heart warms in his chest as he holds her to him, stroking her back gently.

But I knew you Dancing in your Levi's Drunk under a streetlight, I

"Cedric?" Her voice sounds shy, three days later as she approaches his large friend group as they all laugh and chat in the courtyard. His friends all make loud 'oohs' at the girl approaching their friend, knowing he has had a crush on her forever.

He jumps to his feet immediately, only making his friends tease him more. "Hey, is everything alright?" He asks, it's been two days since he found her crying and he hadn't seen her around since.

"Yeah, yeah everything is fine. I just wanted to say thank you for the other day," She smiles gently and his heart melts that she had seeked him out rather than just saying it in whatever class they next saw each other.

"Oh of course, it was nothing," He smiles

"Well, i just, sorry that I cried all over you and- I- well it's embarrassing and you were so sweet so thanks," she blushes madly under his gaze

"It's fine, if ever I can do anything just let me know. Or if you need someone to talk to, I'm always around,"

"Thanks, and the same to you of course," She smiles and he nods. Neither of them can pull their eyes away from each other until Fred and George, who are waiting a small distance away let out loud barks of laughter at their friend's clear crush. "Right, well I should get going, have a good day," She smiles politely before turning around. He isn't quite sure what comes over him when he calls out to her

"Wait!" she turns immediately at his shout "You, uh, wouldn't want to be partners on that new Care of Magical Creatures assignment would you?" They had been assigned it on the first day, and it was a partnered essay and research task on Mooncalf's due in at the end of the month.

"Yeah I'd love that,"

"Great, I'll meet you in the library. Could you do tomorrow night right after classes finish?"

"Yeah, I'll see you there," She agrees, blushing slightly as she turns to walk back to the twins. Both Cedric and Emily's friends immediately begin to tease them but when she turns back to look at him and catches him already staring after her neither of them seem to care.

I knew you Hand under my sweatshirt Baby kiss it better, right

'You know, now that we have completed this ridiculously long essay we should celebrate. Hogsmeade? this Saturday?'

He had asked so casually, like it was easy. When in reality it had taken him a week to build up the nerve. She nodded, acting like her heart wasn't hammering inside her chest.

But now, as he waits at a table in the three broomsticks, he feels more anxious than he can even explain. She walks in, smiling brightly when she sees him, sat at a table with two butterbeers, and she seems so calm it puts his jittery leg at ease.

"Hey Ced,"

"Hi darling," He grins, watching her slide into the booth seat opposite him

"Am I late? Fred forced me to go to Zonko's with him, swore it'd only be two minutes but it was a lot longer," she explains

"No, I was early is all," He smiles, pushing the drink lightly in her direction

"Thanks," She grins, planning in her head to buy the next round. "So, good day so far?"

"Made better by you," he returns, he'd expected to feel awkward and nervous but in reality something about her felt so right, so natural.

"Well of course, clearly I am the highlight of your day every time you see me," She teases lightly

"Well I'm the same for you,"

"You are," She confirms. He beams at her and her heart somersaults in her chest. "How have we only just become friends this year?" She ponders

"I don't know, it feels like I have known you forever," He smiles

"Yeah it does. I guess that's just how it is with some people,"

"You know what they call those people? Soulmates," He teases and smiles a little when her cheeks flush a bright red

"If you are my soulmate Diggory, I could do a lot worse,". It was true, she felt like he could so easily be that one person she was supposed to meet. He was natural, he was charming, he was funny, he made her feel so at ease. She never had to be someone else, never had to think for a second about what she said. Cedric just got her and it was the best thing she had ever experienced.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favourite

"Ced!" She's positively beaming as she stands on Hogsmeade platform after the Christmas holiday's. Pushing her way through the crowd towards the boy and leaping into his arms, he catches her with ease, rearranging his hands a little to hold her up better, her legs wrapping around his waist. His friends pay them no mind as they walk towards the carriages knowing they will see him at dinner and he would much rather have a minute alone with her.

"What're you doing here?" he chuckles

"I missed you," she shrugs

"I missed you too, but I could have just seen you at school, you didn't have to come and pick me up from the station," He smiles at her and she blushes a little. She had spent her holiday at school with the Weasley's as Molly and Arthur were in Bulgaria with Charlie and she hadn't wanted to miss out on her friends antics.

"Yeah, but if I had done that then I would have had to wait until after the welcome back feast and it would have been ages," She explains

"Well in that case, I'm glad you came. I really missed you darling," He smiles, gently placing her back onto the ground

"I missed you too, I was actually thinking a lot when you were gone-" she admits

"That's dangerous," he teases, laughing when she gently swats his arm

"I was thinking that I think I like you, as in more than a friend. No. I know, I like you as more than a friend and I have for a while now and I just wanted you to know that I do. You don't have to like me back and if you don't then I don-"

She's cut off when he slams his lips against hers. Pulling her flush against him. He kisses her with so much passion and longing that she doesn't doubt for a second that he likes her just as much. He smirks when he pulls away and her lips chase his to press another quick peck to them.

"I like you too, I have for an embarrassingly long amount of time, I just didn't want to rush you after what happened with Alex,"

"You could never rush me, it's you," she smiles and he feels his heart leave his body and fall right into her hands.

"So, you wanna go on a real date?" he questions, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as he begins to lead her towards the carriages back up to school.

"I would love that," She grins

"In that case, I will pick up tomorrow at 8," He announces, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as they walk.

A friend to all is a friend to none Chase two girls, lose the one When you are young, they assume you know nothing

"I have just had the most awkward interaction of my life," She announces, walking into his dorm to find him sat at his desk. She drops onto his bed as he turns to look at her

"Hi darling," He smiles

"Hey," she grins back, eyes unable to pull away from his

"None of this romantic gooey shit, what happened?" Cedric's best friend, Justin, questions from his own desk. The pair clearly having been doing work before she arrived.

"Right," she nods, pulling her eyes away from Cedric as she tugs her Gryffindor tie off her neck and settles more comfortably on his bed. "So, i'm walking with George, Fred and Lee out of detention, planning on coming here and they were heading into town to pick up some supplies from Zonko's so we are walking, minding our own business and then out of literally no where Alex pops out,"

"As in your ex-boyfriend?" Justin question, fully immersed in her story. She glances at Cedric who's jaw is a little tight, but softens when their eyes meet.

"Yeah so he comes over and asks to talk to me, and you can imagine Lee and Fred think it's fucking hilarious and George looks ready to pummel the boy, which is nothing new he's always hated him,"

"Likes me," Cedric comments slightly cockily, he knew from the off that it was important George liked him.

"He does. So anyway, I'm like Sorry I am in a rush to meet my boyfriend, which only seems to make him want to speak to me more. So he's all like how long have you and Cedric been together and I'm like officially 2 months. And he asks like a million questions about us and then tries to invite me to Hogsmeade and I was like obviously not, at this point George hits him and then we just kinda ran away. It was just very uncomfy and awkward,"

Cedric looks like he is absolutely fuming, Justin on the other hand is laughing at the awkward situation. Cedric is, of course, glad that she immediately told him but was ready to hunt the stupid boy down and finish what George started. He stands up to do just that but stops when she grabs his hand and pulls him to sit next to her, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He sighs, his thumb stroking the back of her hand, knowing that she's asking him to leave it be.

But I knew you Playing hide-and-seek and Giving me your weekends

"Hey, do you guys know where y/n is?" Cedric questions Angelina and Lee when he sees them sat in the library

"Thought she was with you," Angelina shrugs, looking to Lee who looks equally surprised to see Cedric without his girlfriend wrapped in his arm

"She was, we were playing hide and seek but it's been like forty minutes and I can't find her,"

"She'll be in the broom cupboard next to Filch's office. She always hides there when we play," Lee comments

"Great, thanks," with a grin Cedric disappears out of the library and in the direction of Filch's office. He sends polite smiles and waves to friends he passes but doesn't stop for a chat, missing his girl's presence and wanting her back by his side.

He arrives at the cupboard, pulling the door open and stepping in. It was a deep cupboard filled with clutter and her giggle sounds through the air when he trips on a bucket, hand reaching out from the darkness to steady him.

He reaches out and pulls her into his chest, arms wrapping around her and pulling her into him.

"Found you,"

"Took your precious time," she smirks,

"It's a big castle," He reminds, pressing his lips down onto hers, she kisses back immediately, arms looping around his neck as his grip her waist, tucking slightly under the jumper she's wearing that clearly belongs to him and is too big for her, his thumb stroking gently on the skin of her hips.

She pulls away, breathless and grinning up at him and if he had thought he was in love before he was certain of it now. When she looked so pure, so beautiful, so ethereal how could he not be? the truth was he had been falling for her since first year but his five months with her made it all the more real. He wasn't just in love with an idealistic version of her he had made up in his head, it was the real her. The her that only he knew.

"Which of my friends told you?"

"You underestimate my seeking skills," He feigns offence, and she laughs at his dramatics

"It was Angelina right? The boys would never help you cheat,"

"It was. Now, given I've found you I think I am entitled to a reward, winners choice," He smirks and she grins brightly

"At what might that be?"

"Cuddles," He announces

"We need to study," she counters

"Nope, not on a weekend. Cuddle me in my dorm please. You can't say no, I found you," He grins, he knows though, that she wouldn't say no anyway.

I, I knew you Your heartbeat on the High Line Once in twenty lifetimes, I

They lay under the stars in the astronomy tower Cedric was certain that this, this very moment, was the highlight of his life. When all was said and done she would be it. She would be what made it all worth it.

"You okay?" She asks, nudging her head into his chest gently as she lay on him

"I'm perfect. Are you?" he questions, looking down at her laid on her front between his legs, arms wrapped around his waist and head on his chest

"I am," she grins, moving her head to rest her chin on his chest and look up at him "you're quiet," she comments

"I'm thinking," He returns gently, eyes holding hers and arms wrapping around her, holding her tightly too him

"and here I was thinking you were just a pretty boy," she teases, he laughs and she would swear on anything that lit up by the moonlight Cedric Diggory was a god amongst men. "So pretty boy, what are you thinking about?"

"You," he grins

"Nothing new," she jokes, he rolls his eyes but says nothing, after all she isn't wrong.

"Do you think everyone gets to feel like this?" he questions, she tilts her head to the side silently asking him to explain what he means. "I just- it sounds crazy but this feels so much bigger than just love. Like I can't even describe, it doesn't even feel once in a lifetime it feels once in a million lives. I can't put into words how I feel for you, I more than love you, I so much more than love you,"

"I so much more than love you too," She smiles, leaning up to press her lips against his, he kisses back and it's so soft and so gentle yet somehow needy and passionate all at once. Every kiss they share felt amazing but they would both swear that was the best. "And no, I don't think everyone gets this, I think we are incredibly lucky to have found each other,"

He smiles pulling her closer to him pressing a kiss to the top of her head and his heart has never been more full.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favourite

"So, tell me how your summer was?" She grins at him as they make their way down the train in search of her friend's compartment

"I was with you for most of it," He teases. They had spent the first two weeks at her house and then second two at his before she had gone to spend the final two at the burrow.

"I haven't seen you in 14 whole days Ced," she reminds

"My life is entirely boring without my favourite person," he smiles, chuckling at the blush that overtakes her cheeks. She presses a kiss to his cheek before pulling open the compartment door

"There they are, we were starting to think you were never coming," Angelina smiles, jumping up from her seat to pull her friend into a hug

"Sorry, we got caught up talking to Justin," The girl explains

"Ah, so that's what the kids are calling it," Fred jokes, laughing at the bright blush that over takes both of their faces. "Well, I was kidding but-"

"Shut up Fred!" She groans, dropping into a seat as Cedric settles down next to her, talking happily with George about their summer breaks.

To kiss in cars and downtown bars Was all we needed You drew stars around my scars But now I'm bleeding

Their fifth year passes insanely quickly. It's full of laughter and happiness. They don't have drama like most of their friends in relationships, they understand each other on such a level that truly there's no need to argue because no matter what the other does they understand. Understand exactly why the other has behaved in the way that they had so there was no point in getting mad.

From trips to Hogsmeade, parties, studying and evenings in the prefects bathroom they saw each other every day. Adopting each other's friends as their own. All they needed was each other and they were having a good time. They were connected at their very cores and the whole school seemed to know it.

"Okay, never have I ever lost my virginity in the prefects bathroom," Angelina smirks, the Gryffindor friends are sat around the boys dorms with bottles of fire whiskey on the final evening of term, joined as was common now, by Cedric and Justin.

Cedric sits next to her, his hand resting on her thigh and her head on his shoulder as they both blush a little before drinking.

"You told me it was in your dorm cause you were classy!" Lee exclaims, pointing at her with wide eyes.

"If you believed she was classy it's on you Lee," Fred teases, laughing loudly when she launches a pillow across the room and it hit's him with ease.

"Never have I ever said I love you just to get laid," Justin states, smirking when both Fred and Lee take sips of the drinks.

"Mum will be disappointed," George teases

"Would be, will makes it sound like you plan on telling her,"

"I'll have it up my sleeve for if I need to redirect the rath on someone else,"

"Hey, we always put it on Ron," Fred whines, the rest of the group laughing as they didn't doubt for a second that was true.

"Never have I ever skinny dipped in the black lake," George grins, the group erupting in laughter when Fred drinks

"Okay 1 it was a dare and 2 you aren't allowed to target people, in this game"

"Oh, because never have I ever accidentally grabbed the wrong person's hand wasn't targeted," George quips back.

'Cause I knew you Stepping on the last train Marked me like a bloodstain, I

"I just think that you're being stupid," she admits, she is sat cross legged on his bed as he paces his dorm

"This is something I really want to do, it means a lot to me. The money could really help my family out and I really think this is something I could excel in," Cedric explains, he isn't mad. He knew that she was only concerned because she cared and therefore he would never be mad at her for it, he also knew she loved and supported him unconditionally and that wether she agrees with him or not that wouldn't waver.

"It's reckless Ced, people die in this tournament and I just hate the idea of you doing this cause all your friends have told you how cool it'll be and something happens to you,"

"Hey, nothing will happen to me. I'm not stupid and I know my own limits, you can pull out of any round at any time and if I think I can't do it I won't stay in a dangerous situation," he assures her, sitting down next to her and taking her hands in his.

"I know, I just want you safe,"

"Darling, you don't have to worry for a second. I promised you forever and I am going to give you it," he assures her, pulling her hands to his mouth and pressing kisses on her knuckles.

"Okay. If it means a lot to you then obviously I support you, just promise me you aren't going anywhere,"

"I promise," He agrees.

And so, with his friends behind them and wrapped up in his arms, his promise of forever fresh in her mind she goes with him to drop his name into the goblet of fire, pushing away the feeling in her gut that this was the worst mistake they'd ever make.

I knew you Tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy

Cedric feels his breath stop when he sees her. She looks like an angel, standing at the top of the stairs beaming down at him. The pale blue satin of her dress pooling delicately around her feet and her hair curled and pinned back.

"You look so beautiful," he smiles as she reaches for his arm at the bottom of the stairs

"So do you," She smiles, and she meant it, in his black dress robes she wonders how she's supposed to breathe when he looks so good. "Ced?"

"Yes, darling?" he looks down at her as they stand in the line with the other victors. His smile so pure and delicate and a look of adoration in his eyes, not one person looking at them would question the love he held for her.

"These heels are really high, please don't let me trip and fall and make an idiot of myself,"

"I've got you darling, I promise," he smiles, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as the doors swing open and along with the rest of the victors and their dates they parade to the dance floor.

And he did have her. They danced and he made sure she was okay the whole time. They danced the whole night, wether the song was fast or slow, they were attached in someway and staring at each other so purely and utterly in love. It was the best night of either of their lives and although they didn't say it, both of them thought as they slow danced about the day they would get to do this at their wedding.

I, I knew you Leaving like a father Running like water, I When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Cedric is panting and red from the cold water as he collapses onto the platform, having pushed her onto it first. He feels for the first time since he saw her floating lifeless at the bottom of the lake that he can breathe again as he sees her appear fine.

He blocks out the screaming crowds, his victory although exciting, nowhere near as important to him as the girl.

She however, seems utterly over the moon, pouncing on him and tackling him on the pier in the tightest hug he'd ever received.

"You did it Ced! You won!" She grins brightly, he's vaguely aware of the twins wrapping them both in towels but doesn't care. Nothing else in the world matters as he grabs her face in his hands, pressing his lips to hers and the whole world floats away, and it's just her and him.

She pulls away eventually, seemingly remembering the crowd's of people watching, he doesn't care though, wrapping his arm around her as his friend's push through the crowds to congratulate him. He doesn't let go of his grip on her for even a second, he wanted her to be a part of this, without her he could never have won, seeing her lifeless and floating had triggered something in him he didn't even know existed. He'd have done whatever it took to save her.

but I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long 'Cause I knew everything when I was young

The day of the last trial she woke up with a gut feeling something bad was going to happen. She said nothing though, not wanting to panic Cedric.

She woke up wrapped in his arms and she almost asked him to stay in bed for just five more minutes. Just to hold her for a little while longer, looking back she would always regret not asking for that. Instead, she had sat wrapped in his duvet, watching as he got ready and listening patiently as he spoke, muttering every spell he could think of in a mindless preparation, no idea what he would actually need when he started.

She sat next to him at breakfast, holding his hand under the table in an attempt to calm him down, he was trying to act confident for his excited friends but she saw right through it. She only left his side for a brief moment all morning, to wish Harry Potter, a young boy she knew well due to her close relationship with the Weasley's, good luck.

"You should go and meet your dad to walk to the victor's area," she speaks softly, they're in an empty corridor, wanting a moment of privacy.

"You'll be down there?" he questions

"Of course I will," she assures. He nods, wrapping his arms around her waist as hers wrap around his neck. He nestles his face in her as her fingers comb gently through his hair.

"I'm scared," he whispers

"I know," she replies gently, pulling away only enough to look him in the eyes "Whatever happens, wether you come first or drop out after a minute, I am so beyond proud of you Ced,"

"Thankyou," He hums gently

"You be safe alright, you promised me forever,"

"I never break my promises," he assures her, his lips find hers in a final passionate kiss.

"I so much more than love you," she whispers against him

"I so much more than love you," he returns, pressing a quick peck to her lips, squeezing her tight one last time before letting go.

She sits next to George, her leg bouncing and hands shaking as she leans on his shoulder. She watches as he talks to his dad. It feels like the world is going in slow motion as he stands outside the entrance to the maze, eyes scanning the crowd until they fall on her. She can see from a mile away that he seems to ease slightly at the sight of her, sending her a smile before turning and entering the maze.

I knew I'd curse you for the longest time Chasing shadows in the grocery line I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired And you'd be standing in my front porch light

She knew she would never forget the moment it happened. The pure joy and adrenaline, the excitement because he had won. Cedric had won. Followed by the panic, because he isn't moving and why isn't he moving? why is Harry crying and-

The world stopped. Right there. Right then. The world stops spinning on it's axis.

She would never forget the feeling of George's hands pulling her back and into his chest, refusing to let her turn and see it. See his limp body on the ground and lifeless. She'd never forget the sound of Amos's cries. She would never forget Harry's screams.

Her very world stopped.

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak.

George Weasley would never forget the moment either. The ache in his chest that his friend had died. The sound of her sobs, so guttural and heart wrenching that they take over her whole body. The feeling of his best friend shaking in his arms and the pained scream that leaves her mouth.

She was vaguely aware of the feeling of George lifting her off the ground and carrying her away from the crowds. Vaguely aware of him placing her on her bed. Without thinking she moved to grab one of Cedric's jumpers from her wardrobe, crying even harder when his smell takes over her as she pulls it on, dropping to her knees unable to even stand. George drops down next to her, pulling her into his chest in a tight hug as she cries into his chest.

And I knew you'd come back to me You'd come back to me And you'd come back to me And you'd come back

George Weasley had felt his heart drop when he had read the letter from his old head of house, a desperate plea to come to the school immediately and he had dropped everything to do just that.

His best friend was never the same after Cedric. Not even 10 years after at the age of 27. He wasn't who he used to be either, he had lost his second half. But he worried more for her. Her smile hadn't met her eyes since she was 17. He hadn't heard her laugh since she was 17.

Despite it all she never spoke to George, to anyone, about it. She left a room when he was mentioned. She refused to open up. It was clear even now he was the only thing she thought about. She refused though, to talk about him.

She hadn't dated again until she was 25, settling for a quiet boy who didn't get the chance to fall in love with her, because truly she wasn't her. She was numb, a shadow of herself and he didn't even know it.

As George pushed open the door to the prefects bathroom, he knew it would be another moment he would never forget. Like her scream, his Fred's body on the ground, like Angelina telling him we would be a father.

She was sat, fully clothed, in the large bubble bath. Silent tears streamed down her face and George could only describe the look on her face as numb.

"He proposed," She announces. George doesn't know how to react. He knew she would never fall in love again, that in reality she would never want this. Because it wasn't him.

"What did you say?"

"No," She whispers out, George lets out a sigh, he doesn't think twice as he climbs into the water next to her, ignoring that it's ruining his suit as he pulls her into him.

"George, I can't do this. He promised me forever, it was supposed to be him," She's crying into his shoulder and George knows nothing he says will take the pain away. "He was the love of my life. I didn't just love him, it was more than that. It wasn't once in a lifetime it was different it was special it was-" she cuts herself off, not knowing the words to describe it. She had never needed them before, Cedric had known without her having to say.

"I know. We all know. Everyone could see it,"

"I know what people must think. He was my high school boyfriend and I should move on but Georgie- I can't. It was him and it is him and he promised he would come back,"

"No one thinks that. You were young but the heavens know you were in love,"

"He was everything. He still is. He always will be,"

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favourite

Masterlist

#cedric x y/n #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric x reader #cedric diggory x y/n #hogwarts #harry potter #weasley #gryffidnor #hufflepuff

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southslates · 3 years

Text

like an angry god

@kanejweek day four: darkness (corrupted ambition) / kanej / canon divergence - soulmates - one-shot - rated T / read on ao3! / 2007 words

Inej Ghafa comes to Ketterdam as part of a traveling circus. She doesn’t mean to enjoy the city, with its sharp architecture and cold edges, with its people who pray to kruge, but she does. There is something haunting in its corridors, something which whispers to her in its alleys. Inej is a gravity-defying girl, she is an acrobat and nothing more, but these late-night Kerch streets set fire to her bones. It is as if Ghezen has come alive to speak to her and tell her she could be more.

It's strange because she thinks she has everything. She also feels like she is missing something—not something that needs to be there, but some defining feature of her. She feels like she is spinning a wheel with a loose axel.

Ironically, she stumbles upon the Crow Club when Malik takes her in, wanting to try his hand at Makker’s Wheel. She indulges her cousin and lets him drag her into the lively business in the darkest hours of the night, knowing that they’re on break tomorrow. The Suli do not forbid fun, and they drink, Inej has drunk, but she does not want to in this strange city.

She ends up drinking anyway. She is caught up in the moment, caught up in the lights above the table, the large, large gambling hall, and almost in Salim, the friend Malik had brought with him to the club. Inej likes him, has always liked him, and the sight of him loosens her inhibitions. They loosen her inhibitions so far that she forgets him.

Inej wanders off across the hall, stopping to see the sheer variety of people who habit it: a white splatter of the upper-middle class of the Kerch, lazing away a Saturday; a collection of young children from Novyi Zem, laughing away in the corner; even a splashing of Fjerdans, staying away from alcohol and looking distrustfully at the numbers in front of them. It’s an experience, she can admit even halfway down her glass, eyes shining.

At some point she wanders over to a setting of Kerch men and women playing a game she doesn’t quite understand; they’re holding chips and laughing, cards dancing in front of their eyes. Inej has always been a quick study with these gambling games, though she detests playing; it’s something else the city has whispered into her mind, perhaps. It is the Ketterdam in her blood, though she’s certain she has never been here before. She has never been here before.

She sits at the table and picks up another glass. She will be fine; Malik and Salim are truly not that far away, she can see them from here. A women smiles at her with shark-teeth, daring her to down the cup in accented Kerch. Something in Inej does it, and then when she’s slid another one, she downs it again. Her eyes are uncharacteristically bright at the table, her head muddy.

It's only a moment later she’s in someone’s lap, between two people. It is the Kerch woman and another man, fitting her in the space between them. The woman’s hair is a rusty gold and the man has black hair and a gold tooth.

Inej may have drank too much, but she isn’t stupid. She blinks and sees that Malik and Salim are gone from her line of sight—then she promptly sits up, a bit more aware of her surroundings. This is not a situation she is new to; she’s almost been taken by slavers as a child. They had ransacked her family’s caravan near the Ravkan shore and would have stolen her away from her family had she not woken up early. She has learned to be suspicious of people, and she let her guard down. It’s this saints-forsaken city, she thinks briefly. It is affecting some part of me.

“Hey, sweetheart,” the man whispers with whiskey breath, and Inej pulls herself into the space between the bodies she is caged in, ready to pull one of her acrobatic feats—twist her body, do the unimaginable. But before she does and the woman’s vodka-laced breath rushes across her face, something hard clangs down on the table in front of her.

Inej is only human, so the sound makes her lurch. The tablecloth moves forward, and something shatters and then leaks onto her on the bench. She groans, because alcohol will not go well with the cottons she’d donned for a night out.

“Peter,” a voice says crisply. “Lotte. You are not welcome here. Did I not make that clear enough last time?”

The bodies next to Inej scramble away from her, and she looks up in her disorientation to see a man who can’t be much older than her, a cane in his hand bisecting the table and separating her from Lotte on her left. On her right, Peter has shifted away from her and is now standing up, raising his hands above him. “We didn’t mean nothin’, I promise—”

“I don’t give second chances,” the man says, and his voice is cold, so cold it almost crawls into Inej’s spine and then leaves her body, but icy enough that it wants to make a place there. His voice is the city’s whispers in her ears, the biddings of greed. She is buzzed, but she still looks at his sharp suit and glaring eyes and thinks: Who are you?

Or perhaps she voiced that thought out loud. No matter; the man ignores her, watching as Peter and Lotte stand up and try to leave the premises. Inej lets the whiskey on the table, cold as it is, leak into her shirt as she watches two large men grab the two vermin by their collars and drag them away to some corner.

“Wow,” she says out loud at the brief spectacle—some patrons have turned to see the two get carted off, but more seem unsurprised. “I was fine.”

“Who said anything about you?” the man bites. “There are no games here. There is no place for cheats.”

Inej is straightforward, and her filters are off as she wrings out her shirt. “You could at least pretend to be chivalrous.”

The man glares at her, his gaze dark and intense and dangerous—but for whatever reason, Inej doesn’t feel like it will cut through her. Maybe that is just the stupidity of being drunk. The longer he stares at her, the more she wants to laugh. “You cannot kill me by looking at me, you know.”

He says nothing, just takes his cane off the table and begins to limp away from her. Inej bites her lip and stares at his receding back—that moment had felt strangely powerful.

“Yer brave,” the girl next to her says after he has disappeared from sight, into a door at the club’s side. “To talk to Kaz Brekker like that.”

“Who?” Inej asks, and the boy next to her, keeping his distance after what had happened to the woman in his previous position, looks almost affronted.

“He is Kaz Brekker, Ja. They say he has played cards with the devil and won,” he says, like he is speaking of a myth, and not the twenty-year-old man with a ridiculous glare Inej had faced just moments ago. “He used to be better, ja, growing up on the streets. But he culled his boss right las’ week, he did. Hung his body from the lighthouse by First Harbor. They say he will commit any sin, without a price. Bloodthirsty.”

Inej leans in close to him, feels something lock into place, the gears of her heart. “Really?” she asks. “He just seems like a man.”

“He is no man, he is a demon. A quick thief, too,” the girl nods to her, and Inej grasps at her pockets. Her coinpurse is missing.

“An immature demon,” she says, stepping up, her head spinning just a bit. “Cheap tricks, for shevrati.”

Inej Ghafa leaves them there and takes the path that the man with the cane had followed; he couldn’t have gotten too far from her, with his disability. Ostensibly, she knows she should not be trying to pick a fight in the middle of the night with a man who just hung another in a public display, but the city is speaking to her; the club is, as though it has a heart. Inej believes in saints, and they are leading her a certain way, giving her the want to get her coinpurse back. It had a sizeable amount of kruge, and she refuses to be made a fool of.

The hallway is dark and she follows its walls to a set of stairs, and then walks up them. At the end there is a door, and to its side, when she moves her hand a certain way, another small alley; a trick alley. She follows that aisle to another door, wooden and locked and in the pitch dark. She shoves her body weight against it.

She doesn’t know what she is planning on doing. Do demons give you back your money if you ask them nicely? What is inserting this drive into her veins?

“What?” a voice roars from inside the room, and then a moment later, as Inej pushes herself against it, it opens. She almost trips onto a cold metal floor, but she doesn’t—she is an acrobat, even sheets to the wind. So she rights herself and turns to the man with the cane—Kaz Brekker.

“You,” he says, distaste coating his mouth. There is no good intent hidden in that word, nor in the hard lines of his face. Whoever this man is, he is not good.

“Me,” Inej agrees, then holds out her hand. “My coinpurse, please.”

“Your . . . coinpurse,” the man says, her face twitching. He is wearing a hat and a suit perfectly tailored to all his edges, a glass man. Inej wonders if she could break him. “Why would I have such a thing?”

“You do,” Inej insists. Of this, she is certain. She’s had it until he was just a foot behind her. “Give it back.”

“You’re very demanding,” he says. Inej wonders if he can feel a pull towards her, like she does for him. His face is surely not giving anything away. “You must be new.”

“I’m visiting,” Inej says, some sort of fear starting to creep into her voice. Perhaps the liquid courage has left her soul in a flush—perhaps the city is no longer with her. She can feel it drifting around her bones, maybe leaving. It is as though it has filled the strange place in her soul with something, not left her empty.

He leans into her—he doesn’t leer, not in a way that is lewd, but in a way that is certainly dangerous. “Well, then, my dear visitor,” he says the word like a curse, “you would do well to leave now, before I break your legs for coming to my office without permission.” His eyes scan her, perfunctorily, and Inej can only dream she sees something below the surface. “You need your legs. Or perhaps you can walk a rope with your hands,” he sneers.

Then he slams the door in Inej’s face. The city escapes her, returns back for its sins, disturbs her edges. I have shown you a story, she can feel it whisper, from the wrong end, wrong beginning.

She slides out of the secret corridor and down into the busy club. The Crow Club, it’s called. The largest building in the Stave. She wonders if the foundation was built on a demon’s work. She wonders why she feels like she should know, why there is a haunting space in her mind.

Inej wonders who Kaz Brekker is. She wonders why her saints guided her towards a demon, what they were trying to tell her.

She wonders how he knows she performs on the rope.

#kanej #kanej week #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #kanej fic #dee writes

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