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princess-of-inarizaki · 3 years

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hello ! if ur requests are currently open, can i get headcanons / scenario of inarizakis manager having a celeb crush (like finn wolfhard, louis partridge ALSO if u can, can u please make the celeb crush louis patridge ? im kinda desperate for sum louis x reader scenarios lawl) and they let them simp for him cuz it's just a crush right ? right, what they don't know is that manager-chan has made some attempts for him (their celeb crush) to notice them and they have successfully made him notice them bc manager chan is such a charm, so what will be their reactions if they see manager chan holding hands with the celeb crush that they didn't worry ab ? thank u in advance if u do it ! but it's fine if ur requests aren't open,, i just didn't see any posts ab ur requests being closed hehe also sorry if i did this wrong 😭 this is my first time requesting sumthn 😭😭

Louis Patridge x Inarizaki manager

Oh my goshhh hi bb. I'm so glad I was your first :D (yes, initially, requests were closed, unfortunately) but this was literally such a good one, I couldn't resist writing it. (I'm in love with Louis Patridge too, bubs)

Also, just a tip (if you're gonna request on anon, make sure you follow me, or have my profile saved because tumblr doesn't give you a notification when I've answered you 🥺🥺)

🦋; Inarizaki manager (reader) x Louis Patridge (celeb crush) x Inarizaki vbc ,, triggers: none!!

“Guys. DID YOU WATCH ENOLA HOLMES?” your breathless face was red due to fact that you've ran a long way, obviously to tell them this.

Atsumu and Osamu nodded in unison, “Yea, that Millie Bobbi Brown chick acted prett' well”

Suna rolled his eyes. “Hated it. Only watched it for Superman, though.”

Kita shrugged, walked up to you, and shook his head as he smoothed your hair down (the stray curls obviously came undone as you were running). “I don't watch fictious movies, y/n-san. Was it good?”

Eyes sparkling, you nodded. “It was more than good. Besides, that actor, Louis Patridge? The guy who plays Lord Tewkesbury? I think I'm in love with him.” a dream-like look glazed over your eyes as you stared at your phone wallpaper wistfully.

Suddenly, the bell rang, jolting you back to reality. “Oh that's right, I need to go to class now.”, and with that, you left six very stunned boys in the gym.

“I wonder what'll be of her crush on that' actor?” asked Atsumu with a smirk. Don't be fooled though, behind the easygoing exterior, he was the most concerned of the lot (and the most jealous).

“Yer' overthinking it. They live oceans apart, and he plays movies on the big screen.” drawled Osamu.

“Yeah, I'm sure one of us still has more chance with her than him, she's actually met us, after all.” chirped Akagi, with a positive note. He was determined to win you over, and a celeb crush didn't deter him in any way.

Suna nodded, whilst Kita and Aran exchanged looks. “It's important to be supportive of her though. Albeit it being merely a schoolgirl crush, this could mean a lot to her.” said Kita, and his tone invited no further disagreement.

Back at home that evening, thoughts of the handsome brown haired boy could not leave your mind, and you logged onto Instagram, hoping to see if he had posted any updates.

He had, and it was a selfie of himself, with his tousled hair in all its "I-just-got-out-of-bed" glory. Damn, this man was sexy.

Smiling, you typed out a comment. “No offense, but if being adorable was a crime, you'd have fine written all over you ˃ᴗ˂ ”. Yes, it was dorky, and cheesy all in one. But why not? He might not ever read it anyways, as your comment got swept underneath the hundreds of others that came after it.

Sighing, you settled down to study, with thoughts about the comment and Louis pushed out of your mind.

Meanwhile, as Louis scrolled through his comments, a single one caught his eye. She used a pickup line (how adorable) which caused his cheeks to redden. Tentatively, he surveyed her profile, before feeling the familiar sensation of having a crush, wash over him.

She was gorgeous, and although he knew he shouldn't stalk random pretty girls over the internet, he couldn't help himself. Her pictures showed her to be the manager of a club of some sort, and she was almost always posing with a teammate. A male, teammate.

But damn, that smile. Even if he felt a small pit of unfounded jealousy at the guys, her smile was enough to distract him from anything.

His fingers hovered over the "follow back" button, before he finally gave in to temptation by following her, commenting, and putting his phone away quickly, suddenly feeling like a schoolboy all over again.

That morning, before school, you could barely believe the notifications waiting for you on your phone.

"louispatridge_ is following you"

"louispatridge_ commented: nah, if anyone's fine, it's gotta be you ˃ᴗ˂ "

Of course, after having seven mini panic attacks, and fawning over him, you set out to tell your boys at the volleyball club the good news.

And all you could think about on the way there was how Louis Patridge somehow noticed you. It was unbelievable, and somehow turned your insides to jelly.

As soon as you reached the gym, you flung yourself on Atsumu, engulfing him in a hug. “Guys I'm so happy” you managed to choke out.

Atsumu obviously enjoyed holding you, and he gently wrapped his arms around you to feel your heart beating quickly

“To what do we owe the pleasure of seeing you this early, y/n?” joked Aran.

Wordlessly, you dug into your pocket and pulled out your phone. “He thinks I'm fine. Fine means hot right? I mean, I used it meaning hot. Because he is hot. And he thinks the same of me, that's gotta be good? And the emoticon. He used the same one, he's so cu—”

But you were interrupted out of your whisper-babble by the boys' shocked faces. He noticed her? This fast? “I'm so happy for you, y/n” said Akagi cheerfully, but internally he was demotivated and sad at the prospect of you dating the young star.

Suna looked at you thoughtfully and ruffled your hair. “That's my girl. She's just as amazing and capable as those girls on the silver screen.” and although it pained him to say this, he just wanted to share your happiness.

The twins were withdrawn, and Kita congratulated you, whilst obviously feeling a bit regretful for dismissing it as a "schoolgirl crush".

In general, the boys were upset, but not surprised. If you had them all collectively whipped for you, why not a movie star?

After kissing Suna's cheek and waving the rest of the boys off, you skipped all the way to homeroom, excited to share the news with your friends.

Silence followed your absence as Aran shrugged. “So are we gonna acknowledge the elephant in the room?”

Atsumu pouted and glared at them all. “Why did he have to notice her? Was it her profile picture? I've always asked her to change it, she looks way too attractive.”

Osamu nodded and jutted his bottom lip. “I mean, we think she's the most beautiful girl in the world, and apparently other guys do too.”

“Oh God make it stop” whispered Suna. “I wish she'd just stay ours. I don't mind competing with you guys, I'm obviously better, but that actor dude? No chance.”

“We'll be supportive” reaffirmed Kita. “Above all, she's out friend and we do not own her. If this makes her happy, we won't ruin it.”. Akagi and Aran were quiet.

Ever since that day, you and Louis have been slowly but steadily growing closer and falling harder for each other.

He tried his luck by texting you, and although you were shy and tentative at first, getting to know the real him was refreshing.

And you really did like him. He was intelligent, adorable, and realistic. The two of you spent your time from dusk till' dawn talking, whether on call or on text.

And no one could deny the blossoming chemistry between yourself and Louis. He was a gentleman in every way, and his honeyed words stuck in your heart, finding its way to be replayed every time you felt down.

The boys slowly saw you drifting away. And when you weren't, it was always "Louis this—" or “Louis said—” and frankly their hearts couldn't take it anymore. It was time to give up, and love you as a friend instead.

But immersed in his attention you barely even noticed.

One day, Louis called you as you were heading home after practice. “y/n! Love, guess what?”

“aw bubs, just tell me. I hate guessing. Mostly because I suck at it.”

You could hear him chuckle on the other side of the line as he softly whispered “I'm coming to Japan on the ninth!”

“Wait, Louis. Today's the ninth.”

“I know. So are you gonna come to that bubble tea place you won't shut up about, or must I come get you?”

“You're joking”

“I'm not. I've wanted to surprise you, and I swear it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Which includes getting kicked by a horse on set, but nevermind about that, y/n, I want to see you, so get your arse here.”

“Coming, Lord Tewkesbury”

“I might have a kink.”

You blushed bright red at his words. “shut up oh my gosh, I'll be there.”

Louis ended the call with a small smile on his face. He knew how easily flustered you were with him and he loved it. It was just another thing on the list of all the reasons why Louis Patridge adored you to hell and back.

The whole way to the shop, your heart was pounding. So you'd finally get to meet the guy you've been dreaming about ever since you laid eyes on him in a movie.

Ever since those late night phone calls and early morning texts made your heart race and eyes sparkle with wonder.

You were finally meeting him.

The familiar sweet smell of the tea washed over you, and a familiar face waited for you at the entrance. His brown eyes looked gorgeous in the sun and his hair was tousled exactly the way you once saw in a selfie.

Wasting no time, you ran to him, pulling him to a hug. He laughed and caught you in his arms, holding you closer as your legs wrapped around his waist. No words were exchanged, just touches. There were too many words said already.

After pulling away, he gently stroked his thumb through your features. Tucking a strand aside, ruffling your hair. His hands ached to touch you, and now, finally, he could.

“You're such a dork.” was all you could whisper, afraid speaking loudly would break the spell.

“Your dork. All yours.”

“Louis!” your voice went an octave higher as the familiar warm sensation came over your cheeks, painting them a delicate pink.

“Oh God, I've always wanted to see you blush. How can you be so adorable?? Oh God.”

You whined in protest, but frankly, you were too happy to be around him to care much at all.

Tipping your chin to face him, Louis Patridge did the one thing he dreamt of doing, ever since he stalked through your Instagram profile one fateful morning.

He kissed you.

And wouldn't you know it? You kissed him back. It was warm, comforting, and everything you thought it'd be.

Meanwhile, the boys had finished cleaning up the gym, and started heading home.

“Hey guys, do you wanna go grab some bubble tea?” asked Aran. The prospect of food, or sweet things always cheered up the boys, and after a day of particularly grueling practice, it was no surprise they agreed at once.

You however, were comfortably nestled next to Louis as you swapped stories. Your hands never left each other, though. He kept stroking your palm, just to remind himself you were here, right next to him.

“So how's the volleyball club, Mrs. manager?”

“Mrs? Do I look like I'm married?” to which Louis responded with a shrug and wink.

Coincidentally, the Inarizaki boys entered the shop at that very moment, freezing in their tracks after seeing you in a booth with Louis.

“Psst. Guys. Loverboy's here.”

“Should we say hello?”

“I might cry if they kiss” whimpered Akagi.

“We need to say hello, it's the right thing to do.” said Kita sensibly, as he walked up to the two of you. “Hello y/n-san, Louis-san.” said Kita with a slight nod.

Happily, you rose from your seat and hugged the captain, thanking him for saying hi, as you introduced him to Louis.

Soon, the other boys came around and one by one, introduced themselves as well. Honestly speaking, they were jealous. How could they possibly get over someone like you? Someone as spectacular and beautiful as you? But when they saw you face shining with radiance as you smiled at Louis, and the way his hands never left yours, they understood.

And they wanted you to be happy. That was the most important thing, above all else for the both of them.

“I love you, manager-chan.”

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shaymcsudonim · 3 years

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Malevolency

A rant on psychology and wild speculation on the motives of the Dark Triad.

More under the cut.

(Trigger Warnings for trying to find good qualities of fictional mass-murderers)

The dark triad as Personality Traits, and the Dark Triad’s personality traits.

Part 1: Selfishness, Callousness, Button-Pushing.

I took no psychology classes whatsoever in school, and therefore was completely blindsided when I learned that the phrase ‘Dark Triad’ is a psych term. These three personality traits (self-centeredness, sociopathy, and manipulativeness) are called ‘dark’ because they are thought to be particularly malevolent.

Specifically, as the fandom has already deduced, Black Clover’s Dark Triad has Dante as Narcissism, Xenon as Psycopathy, and Vanica as Machiavellianism.

Like most things in psychology, this strikes me as complete and utter bullshit. Personality traits are just that: traits. A trait is merely a descriptor; it holds no moral value.

Narcissism, for example, means that someone is self-centered. This could mean that someone with this trait is monstrously selfish, since they might only care about their own desires. However, what of someone who cares primarily about their reputation? Or about their own adherence to a moral code? Or an artist who only cares about their art and how it reflects on themselves? Preoccupation with the self doesn’t necessarily equate to positive or negative behavior.

Sociopathy, as the second trait, primarily implies a lack of empathy. But, in all honestly, if someone is only a good person because they can mirror neurons to simulate the feelings of others… then they aren’t really a good person in the first place. Empathy as a morality chain fails when empathy fails, especially when combined with xenophobia. Would sociopathy potentially make it harder to learn helpful social habits? Perhaps. Or, a lack of empathy could lead to a more considered and logical approach in determining what is owed to other people, an approach which would not fail with faltering emotions. After all, Agape, the highest form of love as reckoned by the ancient Greeks, was characterized by the presence of caring and the lack of emotion.

The third trait, Manipulation, is probably the most neutral of the three. After all, being able to read people and predict and/or guide their behavior is a valuable skill for anyone. If a school principal, for example, is skilled at reigning in the behavior of their students, through positive and negative reinforcement, we would call them a ‘Good Leader’ rather than a ‘Manipulator’ but it mostly comes down to the same thing. A con man is a ‘Deceiver.’ A showman is merely ‘working the crowd.’ Social manipulation itself is merely a tool, and can be employed for any ends, moral or immoral.

So, to summarize, the so-called ‘Dark Triad’ of personality traits are not inherently moral or immoral, but rather descriptors of various personality styles found among characters of any given archetype.

Part 2: Dante, Xenon, Vanica.

Okay, so I’ve mentioned this before, but the Dark Triad have not met the expectations that I had for them as villains. Specifically, they show more heroic traits than I would have guessed.

That brief flash that we got of Yuno’s infancy in the Spade Kingdom offered a glimpse at the young Dark Trio. Dante, Vanica, and Xenon were high-ranking soldiers who worked together. They’re wildly unpopular, because of their violent methods. Yuno’s parents and those loyal to them hold the three siblings in contempt.

Honestly, I suspect that this might just be garden path foreshadowing. There is an incredibly strong possibility that the Spade Royals are evil. (They sent the Dark Triad to crush a rebellion. Why was there a rebellion? What policies were they rebelling against?)

Not evil in the sense that the King and Queen are outwardly malicious or unkind to most of their underlings, no. And, of course, they both love Yuno and are doting parents.

However, those traits say jack-shit about the Spade-King and -Queen’s moral character.

The fact that the Zogratis siblings are relatively young, that they work together at the same rank despite being related, doing a job they’re absolutely apathetic about with as much gratuitous violence as possible… to me, that hints at some sort of conscripted service.

Clearly the Spade Kingdom is aware of demons, as it mentions that two of the demons from the current arc used to be humans from the Spade kingdom. I would consider it a strong possibility that Nacht learned the Devil Binding ritual in the Spade Kingdom, or at least that the ritual itself is a Spade Kingdom technique.

I bring this up to say this: there is a strong possibility that the Zogratis Siblings were gang-pressed into becoming devil hosts for the benefit of their kingdom, with the threat of their siblings being killed if any one of them rebelled.

Because, while they certainly seem to have been twisted by their life experiences, the Zogratis siblings show far more compassion than I anticipated, towards each other, towards their enemies, and towards their devils.

When they form their plans to take over the continent, the siblings are able to do so without egos clashing or jealousy over power differentials among themselves (when Vanica, at least, could draw our fewer percentage points of Megicula’s power than Dante could of Lucifero’s). When Xenon saved Dante from Yami, he cradled him in a horrifying bone cage, instead of carrying him by impaling his limbs as he did to Yami and Vangeance. It’s subtle, but I don’t get that undercurrent of hostility towards each other that I expected to see before the time-skip.

When talking to their enemies, Vanica remains relatively hostile, but Dante and Xenon almost seem sympathetic, at times. Dante tells Asta that they should be able to understand each other because they’re both devil hosts, Xenon tells Yuno that he’s not weak, he’s just facing an overwhelmingly strong opponent.

In terms of their devils, we haven’t seen much of how Xenon operates, but Dante and Vanica seem much more cooperative and friendly than I ever would have guessed. For example, Vanica said that she cursed Loropechika ‘for Megicula,’ not in exchange for anything, or under threat, but presumably simply because the demon asked. Not only that, but Vanica doesn’t seem distressed in the least when Megicula possesses her. The two of them even have a friendly conversation, where Vanica explains her desire to change plans, Megicula asks clarifying questions, an accord is reached, and Megicula even throws out a parting compliment. The two of them are clearly drift-compatible, despite their obvious personality differences. In that same vein, Lucifero and Dante speak in a cordial, straightforward manner, though we only see a single conversation between them. (There is also the fact that Lucifero didn’t seek out a different host after Dante was defeated).

And so, this brings to my mind my current theory for why the Zogratis Siblings went berserk and massacred the spade royals and most of the palace guard:

The Dark Triad were considered sacrificial soldiers for the sake of the Spade Kingdom’s prosperity. Their colleagues and superiors viewed them as dead soldiers walking, and treated them with all the courtesy they were thought to deserve (ie none). The Zogratis siblings were isolated and kept under rigid control, to keep them in line.

However, the High Ranked Devils that they hosted reached out to them in genuine partnership, which possibly even turned into friendship.

Various members of the Dark Triad have stated that they’re enacting their plan because they want to fight whatever humans survive in a post-apocalyptic demon world, but I’d bet that a large part of their motives also involve freeing their friends from the afterworld.

Are the Zogratis siblings evil? Yes, I’d say so. After all, good qualities don’t erase their crimes: Dante slaughtered his liege Lord and most of his colleagues, Xenon massacred half the Golden Dawn, and Vanica cursed who knows how many people at Megicula’s behest.

But I expected the Dark Triad to be very different people than they are. I thought that they’d be siblings in name only, constantly fighting and jockeying for power, looking to usurp each other or push each other down.

Instead, they seem to care for each other.

I expected the Dark Triad to be constantly at odds with their demons, contracts held together by duct tape and spite, each only biding their time before stabbing each other in the back.

Instead, they seem to understand the value of teamwork.

And, it’s just, if this is what they look like, when they’ve fallen so far as to work for the virtual extinction of their own species. What were they like before the Spade Kingdom broke them?

I could very well be wrong, but we’ve gotten so little from the Dark Triad’s perspective that something horrific is almost certainly waiting in the wings.

Especially after Nacht said he didn’t care what their motives were. Nacht hates redemption arcs, and thinks anyone who has ever made a mistake deserves the harshest punishment possible. He seems to think that most of the Black Bulls are irredeemable, describing them in harsh, unforgiving terms, when we know them to be good people.

And the Dark Triad, while they most certainly aren’t good people... individuals like them don’t usually develop into misanthropic extremists in a vacuum. Something drove them to make the choices they did, and I’d bet that a large part of it had to do with Spade Kingdom Society as it functioned under the Royals.

We’ll see how the rest of the arc pans out, I guess.

#black clover #black clover spoilers #dark triad #dante zogratis #vanica zogratis #xenon zogratis

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

heiress - 5

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

a/n: more parallels between wanda and reader plus hayward being a bitch to reader. also pierce did not die during the winter soldier events in this universe. at this point this is called wanda and y/n collectively grieving over her how shitty their lives are.

previous chapter

The young woman held a small gun in her left hand, shooting the target at least 10 metres away from her with a mechanical precision, switching it to her right hand and achieving the same type of perfection and precision not even senior agents had. Yet, there she was, one of the newest SWORD recruits. Many people had opposed for her to join SWORD straight after escaping from HYDRA and the Red Room; however, Tyler Hayward had forced for her to become a new recruit. “Having Alexander Pierce’s daughter in our team will be an asset” he said and it somehow convinced all of SWORDs panel to take her in. She had nowhere to go after all, the Red Room will be after her in no time and she had no way to defend herself alone and so SWORD was her only option. An option she thrived under, being much more advanced than any junior recruit yet it was a far cry from what she wanted. She didn’t want to be an agent but that’s what she was, what she had been trained to do.

The trainer slowly blinked walking up to her and giving her a congratulatory pat on the shoulder which everyone could sense was filled of jealousy. She was thrown to the back of the line with someone else who also inspired jealousy in most recruits. Monica Rambeau, daughter of Maria Rambeau, the current SWORD director. They had never spoken too much other than orientation day where they introduced each other by their agent number.

- That was the coolest thing I’ve seen today. - she hide a childish smile as the next recruit started his training. - I’m Monica.

- Y/N. - she smiled and shook her hand. - Is it always like this?

- Most of time yeah. The trainers are dicks about it when you’re better than them.

- Men. - Y/N rolled her eyes, getting an understanding nod from Monica.

- Excuse me? - Tyler Hayward entered the trainee room, always dressed in a polished suit as if that would be of any worth in a fighting situation. - I’m sorry for disturbing but I need Ms. Y/N Pierce to accompany me.

Y/N Pierce. She always hated that name, even more than her code name. The mere thought that she had that last name, the name of one of the leaders of SHIELD was almost like a cruel curse on her. Everyone seemed to think of him as this all around saint yet she knew better; after all, if he had no reservations about submitting his daughter as a project and asset then he would have no reservation in hurting anyone else. SWORD had done their best to keep her existence a secret, not really allowing the connection to pass through but she knew he was looking for her and if he wasn’t the Red Room and HYDRA definitely were.

She shared a confused look with Monica before stepping towards Hayward who led her away from the room and into the hall. He didn’t stop to explain to her why she had been summoned, instead he just kept on walking and she took the lead to follow him, entering a blackened window filled hall. They stopped in front of a window which gave way into an autopsy scene. Y/N was used to seeing death, some would say she was born surrounding it; however, she was not prepared to see what was being shown to her. It was almost as if she were sleeping, her mother. Laid across the metal table with various doctors surrounding her, the HYDRA symbol branded onto her foot. She looked over to the side, hand over her mouth as she felt sick just to see it.

- Our intelligence believes HYDRA is trying to send a message and we don’t believe they won’t stop anytime soon.

- Was it fast? Did she suffer?

- Gunshot to the head. Quite merciful, really.

- Why are you showing me this?

- Well, HYDRA experimented on you but there is the possibility your “enhancements” might be genetic.

- What is that supposed to mean? Why did you really brought me here, Hayward?

- We need the next of kin’s permission to perform an autopsy and it seems that would be you, following your mother’s will.

- No. - she stepped back. - You’re not gonna tear my mother apart for a stupid hypothesis. No. You don’t have my permission

- We’re being kind enough to hide you from your father for no specific reason. You either accept it or we’ll be forced to hand you to SHIELD.

The night air was crisp and sharp as he sat on the swing next to hers. She hadn’t changed much other than her hair which was much longer but her face was still unblemished by the tragic unkindness of the world. After all it had been about 5 years since he last saw her and he hated the fact he had forgotten her. Somewhere, deep within himself he knew her mark was still there; he could still hear her voice in his dreams but he always chucked it to his mind crumbling under the pressure it had been under for so many years. Nevertheless, he had heard her voice plenty times, specially in Bucharest. It had haunted him from nights and nights on end; “Promise?” “Yes”, turns out it wasn’t someone he had killed but someone he had forgotten. Her of all people. It had come back all to him after that woman gave him the file. Her name alone, her lips telling him her name. He remember telling himself he would not forget him as they prepared him to go back in the blender and he did. He forgot about her but looking at her everything came back to him; the good and the bad. But the most of it was he remembered loving her, he still did, a feeling that had been dormant for a long while and suddenly awoke in him. Of course Bucky did not expect her to love him back, he didn’t blame her either. She was a good kid, too good even.

- Uhm ... are you enjoying it here? - she motioned her hands abstractly. - In the hex, I mean.

- It’s better than in hideouts with Sam and Sharon. - he chuckled dryly, looking up at the transparent yet red tinted dome. - I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. Sam is great, despite everything and Sharon ... Sharon has helped me so much, I owe her that.

- Oh ... - her heart dropped to her stomach as an ugly feeling took over her. Sure, Wanda would say it’s jealousy but she refused to admit it.

- What about you? I never really asked what you did after ... you know, IT.

- You can say the name. - she smiled at him yet it was voidless of any emotion, as if she were used to people tip toeing around the subject which they always did. - I became a junior recruit for SWORD until the blip then ... I was gone for a while but it didn’t hurt. It was almost like I was finally at peace and then I woke up and Hayward was director. He sent me and Monica to investigate the hex Wanda created, mostly to keep his own project a bay. Then we all ran off, got classified as fugitives. The rest is really not important.

- I don’t really think I need to tell you what I’ve been up to.

- You don’t ... most of it it’s my fault, anyway. - she got up from the swing once she noticed a purple light a few miles away from the limits of the hex. The back of her eyes started growing instinctively white. Bucky got up as he recognised her fighting stance, a hand safely placed upon her shoulder. - Go grab Wanda.

- Y/N ...

- Go grab her, now. - she stood there watching the purple light almost call out for her. Bucky chose to do what she said, the white mist involving around her fingers as she stepped towards the hex, fingers barely touching the wall.

Bucky rushed inside the building, hoping to reach Wanda before Y/N could do anything irrational. However, before he could find the newly named Scarlet Witch, she found him with one of her twins behind her waist. Her eyes were glowing red, almost similar to those Y/N had except those eyes looked desperate, worried even.

- Where is she? - she asked him with an ice like directness. - Where is she, Barnes?

- Outside. She told me to come get you.

Wanda rushed past him with a speed that he had never seen before and he only followed after her. The two stepped outside the building, towards the swing tree where Bucky had left Y/N, except, she wasn’t there anymore. No, he couldn’t lose her. Not again. Vision came after the two followed by Yelena and Monica who had been awakened by the twins; however, Wanda did not need their help. She approached the hex, just missing the purple glow as it entered the woods. Bucky tried to step up but Vision pushed him back.

- Y/N? - Wanda broke through the hex, shutting Bucky out as well as Vision. It was night time, dark and cold surrounded by the woods of the place they had chosen to hide from the world. Breaking dawn was so far away and even the tallest individual would’ve melted into the dark night. - Y/N!

- Are we not going to help them? - Bucky questioned back inside the hex, probably the most awake apart from the synthezoid and the former Red Room graduate.

- It’s a witch thing. - Yelena smirked before springing into action. - We should activate the hex’s protective system in case something happens.

- What about them? - Bucky once again interrupted, not receiving particularly kind looks from Yelena.

- They’ll be fine, Mr. Barnes.

Y/N on the other hand walked further into the confused and dark woods, holding her small trusted silver revolver which reflected the moon light onto its surface; yet most of the light came from behind her coloured eyes. She did not know exactly why they did that, it was almost as if they light up whenever she felt threatened. Whatever it was, it was there inside of her. She, of course, knew it was Agatha lingering around; however, she never got dangerously close to the hex. It was an unspoken truth between the witch and Wanda Maximoff yet there she was.

- God, dear, I thought I’d have to break into the hex to get to you. - Agatha showed up from the darkness, dressed in her typical black and purple palette as if she were royalty. - So, how are you deary? Still playing Queen Elsa? Is that fun for you?

- You’re trespassing.

- Come on, is that how you thank me for giving you Bucky Barnes on a platter? What else do you need to thank me? A love spell?

- Go away, Agatha. What do you want?

- I am trying to help you, just like I helped Wanda. I mean how old are you, sweetheart? Old enough for HYDRA and SWORD to realise you can do much more than just magic tricks. Making a whole room objects disappear? Now that, that was impressive. If I knew you were gonna do that, I would’ve brought Barnes into your life much much sooner. - she crossed her arms. - I think you and I are very similar. Much more similar than Maximoff to be completely honest. Where were the avengers when your father handed you over to a terrorist organisation? Constantly overlooked, underestimated, seen as nothing but your father’s daughter. I understand, Y/N and I can help you if you let me help you.

- I ... - she faltered her response, slightly lowering down her gun. - You can really help me?

- I know more about magic than everyone else, Y/N. I can train you, I can help you more than SWORD or Wanda Maximoff will ever help. I can even give you what you want the most. Barnes, a regular family, everything but a SHIELD recruit. A regular citizen and all I want is for you to give me my regular family.

- I can’t help you, Agatha.

- I don’t mean to cause any harm, Y/N. I’m not the villain, I just want my husband back and only you can give that to me. That’s all I want. It’s a small price to pay for your happiness. I can even take it away, your powers, I can take them away and then you will have what you want. Pretty sure Barnes still has some swimmers and if he doesn’t surely Wanda can get you some kids, she sure did well with getting herself some.

- Y/N! - Wanda’s voice broke through the two woman’s conversation. Agatha smirked, purple eyes replacing her regular blue ones. - Y/N!

- I think you need to make a choice, dear.

taglist: @lookiamtrying

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blossom-hwa · 4 years

Text

Leave an Angel - JENO

i fucking deleted the original post i’m so fucking stupid

YES I know it’s been MONTHS since I updated this series but inspiration is very fickle and it seems to have finally hit!

Thank you to those who keep reading this series and sending me beautiful messages about it - you all really, truly are the reason why I find the strength to continue this. In particular thank you @hyucksong for your lovely comments on Believe a Demon - your words helped inspire me to continue Jeno’s story! And of course, thank you @chenle for allowing me to use her guardian devil idea that sparked this series! if you want to read it, here it is!

Pairing: Jeno x fem!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, angel/demon!au

Triggers: death, cancer (not as much as in “Love a Demon” though)

Notes: reading the other stories aren’t necessary to understanding this story - however, it might be helpful to read “Love a Demon,” and the other member’s stories are mentioned here as well, so reading the other parts will shed some more light on the series as a whole.

Word Count: 9.5k

Loving a demon comes at a price.

NCT Masterlist | Angels and Demons

You really aren’t doing anything, just leaning against a shelf of CDs, eyes closed, head bobbing slightly to the beat of the song playing in your brother’s shop. And yet Jeno can’t take his eyes off of you.

A new assignment. You shouldn’t be anything to Jeno but a simple star imprinted into his left wrist, someone he has to save when the time comes. But you might be one of the most simplistically beautiful people Jeno has ever seen, and that makes you dangerous.

Maybe not dangerous in the traditional sense. You (probably) won’t come at him with a knife or gun, but even if you did, Jeno could easily fight you off. No, feelings are far more dangerous than any weapon. Look at what happened to Chenle. Maybe the fallen angel is happy now, but at what cost?

Jeno is happy now. He will not make things more complicated because of strange feelings. He’ll do his duty, and that includes knowing your face so he can save you when the time comes.

He’s not stalking you. He really isn’t, or so he tells himself. Sure, you can’t see him – no one can, he’s made himself invisible – and he’s watching you, but it’s all for his job. It’s all because you’re his assignment.

The tiny voice in the back of his head says otherwise, though.

Scowling slightly, Jeno wills his thoughts to go away. You are an assignment, nothing more, nothing less. He now knows what you look like. Now he can save you when needed.

He takes one last look at your pretty face and then leaves, disappearing in a flash of light.

. . . . .

When the star first burns on Jeno’s wrist, he doesn’t wait. Years of practice have honed the instinct and in less than a second, he’s disappearing from his conversation with Renjun into a shower of light.

Immediately, he homes in on your stunned face and the huge block falling from the crane overhead. His arm stretches out to grab your limp hand and pull you to safety –

But someone gets there first. Someone he never thought he’d see again.

What is he doing here?

But there are too many people around to ask questions, and based off of your clear, confused eyes, you’re an exception, which just makes everything worse. So he beckons to Jaemin, all the while avoiding his gaze as much as possible, and reappears in a small alleyway.

You and Jaemin materialize into existence less than a second later. The demon wastes no time. “What are you doing here?” he yells.

“She’s my assignment, what about you?” Jeno snaps. His gaze locks on Jaemin’s hand still holding yours and a wave of bitter jealousy crashes through his chest.

Your hand shouldn’t be in Jaemin’s. It should be in his. You’re Jeno’s assignment, not Jaemin’s.

The lack of response from Jaemin brings a smug smile to Jeno’s lips and he looks up again, ready to berate Jaemin for interfering in matters that don’t belong to him. But Jaemin’s eyes are filled with confusion, not venom, so Jeno closes his mouth, equally confused.

“How can she be your assignment when she’s mine?”

“Stop lying,” Jeno retorts automatically, but Jaemin’s demeanor makes him pause. Years spent in heaven together have given Jeno a window into Jaemin’s character and he can easily tell when the demon is lying.

There are no indications of untruth in Jaemin’s expression and Jeno’s stomach flips. How can any of this be possible? There’s never been any account of a human having more than one guardian, so assuming Jaemin’s telling the truth, how can Jeno be your guardian as well?

“No lie, Jael.” Jaemin’s smirk makes Jeno want to slap him. Gone is any hint of warmth in his expression, any clue that the two of them used to be best friends. A pang hits Jeno’s heart but Jaemin’s next words push it away.

“Lost your touch? Can’t tell when I’m lying or not anymore?”

That hurts. And maybe it shouldn’t hurt that much, to hear Jaemin taunt him and call him by his God-given name, but it does. Jeno’s scowl deepens.

“Don’t call me that,” he snarls. “You don’t deserve to.”

“Um, guys?” Your small voice cuts into their argument, diffusing some of the tension beginning to build. Jeno looks over and immediately feels guilty when he sees your white knuckles clutching your bag and the cautious confusion in your eyes. “What… what’s going on?”

Jeno sneaks a look at Jaemin. Who will be the one to explain?

“I saw the block falling… and then someone pulled me away? Who was it?”

The green jealousy wraps around Jeno’s heart again. He wishes he could say it was him, but he isn’t a liar. So he only watches with narrowed eyes as Jaemin claims responsibility.

Your soft smile eases some of the bitterness Jeno feels, even though it’s mostly directed at Jaemin. He almost finds himself relaxing until you utter your last three words, smiling at Jaemin.

“I owe you.”

Jeno clenches his fist. He can’t stay quiet any longer. “No, you don’t,” he snaps. “It was his job.”

“Job?” You look very lost, once again.

Jeno ignores the murderous look Jaemin throws at him. “Why do you ruin everything, Ja – Jeno? Now we have to tell her!”

He flinches. He tries not to. But somehow, Jaemin not using his God-given name hurts a little more than him using it.

Why did he say anything? He promised himself not to get involved in any sort of feelings with you, but here he is, saying stupid things because for once, he can’t keep his mouth shut. Still, he has to maintain a façade. So he only shrugs slightly.

“We’re…” Jaemin sighs. “Well, he’s a guardian angel.” He jerks a thumb sharply at Jeno. “And, um, I’m a demon. A guardian demon.”

Silence.

“Angels and demons exist?”

“Yes, they do.” Jeno flashes a tiny smirk at Jaemin, who curbs his annoyance, but not quickly enough for Jeno to not notice. A rush of mean satisfaction runs down Jeno’s spine.

“I’ve never heard of a guardian demon before,” you murmur, looking between the two boys. Your gaze lingers a bit longer on Jaemin. Jeno tries not to be annoyed.

“Well, now you have.” Jaemin laughs a little.

It’s too hard to not be annoyed. Jeno allows the feelings to flood through him, tired of keeping them at bay. He glares at his former best friend.

“So I have a guardian angel and a guardian demon?” you ask. Jeno’s annoyance fades away, replaced with concern for you. You’re taking it surprisingly well, however. “How come I’ve never seen either of you until now?”

“Well, technically you’re only supposed to have one.” Jeno grimaces. “Either an angel or a demon. But I guess the universe screwed up this time,” he continues, emphasizing the words “screwed up.” The look he sends Jaemin is nothing less than poisonous. “And we only appear when you’re in a life or death situation, like just now.”

Slowly, you nod. “Interesting,” you mumble. “Well, it was nice meeting you…?”

Names. You want names. Jeno panics for a second, instinctively glancing at Jaemin. They come to a wordless agreement before tearing their eyes away.

“Jaemin.”

“Jeno.”

“It was nice meeting you, Jaemin and Jeno.” You bow slightly to them both, the sweet smile back on your face. “I’ll leave now.” You begin to turn around, then turn back again. “Thank you for saving my life.”

Jeno wishes the smile you flash Jaemin was directed at him.

“The pleasure was all mine.” Jaemin’s smile is soft, so soft. Jeno hates him for it. “Try not to get into too much trouble.”

Jeno’s eye twitches and he misses your reply. It doesn’t matter. Once you’re gone, the tension thickens exponentially again as he stares into the eyes of the demon he used to call his best friend.

“Of course if the universe screwed up, it’d have to put me with you,” Jeno spits, allowing all the bitter loathing in his heart to coat his voice.

“You think this is any fun for me?” Jaemin crosses his arms, any hint of a smile gone.

There’s no point arguing. If they’re going to be paired up to save your life, Jeno’s going to see Jaemin’s face way more than he wants to (which is not at all). Better to just leave now, before he does something rash that will merit punishment.

He disappears, childishly hoping the resultant flash of light will blind Jaemin.

. . . . .

It happens at first by chance. Jeno’s walking around on earth, trying to enjoy the sunshine on his face. Renjun isn’t here at the moment, a fact that he’s secretly quite relieved about. The angel has only become more overbearing since Chenle fell.

Though Jeno sympathizes with Renjun – after all, he’s the only one who knows Renjun’s entire story – he feels for Chenle too. He misses the younger angel and his dolphin laugh, even though instances of the high-pitched screeches had all but died away during the years after their original group split up. Still, seeing Chenle’s smile used to be one of the high points in his day, after Renjun almost stopped smiling completely.

So Jeno tries to enjoy the day and take some comfort in the healthy aliveness of the city around him. All around him are people who are living their lives, blissfully ignorant of the turbulent worlds beyond their comprehension.

In a small part of his heart, Jeno aches to return to that simpler time. He doesn’t regret staying in heaven. Renjun needs him and in a way, Jeno needs Renjun just as much. But sometimes, ignorance really is bliss.

He tries to shake off these heavy thoughts that contrast so darkly with the bright sunshine of the day, but something just feels… off. Like something will go wrong. Jeno attempts a smile in the hopes that faking happiness will bring the true emotion, drifting his gaze to the shops that line the streets.

Then he scowls. Any tinge of happiness he felt disappears.

Of course Jaemin would appear to ruin his day.

Mumbling apologies to those who bump into him, Jeno turns and starts walking in the opposite direction, stopping in front of a shop window full of CDs and albums. Inside, he sees Jaemin smiling at someone.

As he peers in as surreptitiously as he can, he realizes that that someone is you.

If there was anything in his hands, Jeno would have crushed it with how hard he’s clenching his fists right now. What is Jaemin doing? Exception or no, he shouldn’t be seeing you unless he’s attempting to protect you. And as far as Jeno can see, there’s nothing life-threatening in your way at the moment.

Through the window, he watches Jaemin say something. You laugh in response. Jeno’s teeth clench with his fists, inordinately annoyed at the scene in front of him.

It’s just because Jaemin isn’t following the damn rules, he tells himself bitterly. Stupid demons and their blatant disregard for the established rules surrounding interaction with humans. Look at Haechan. Then Mark. And now Jaemin too?

Feelings are such a messy topic, Jeno thinks in disgust. He should go. This isn’t any of his business. Let Jaemin be punished for whatever he’s doing – Jeno may resent Lucifer, but he does mete punishment fairly.

But he stays. Something roots him in place in front of the shop window, watching your interaction with Jaemin. And the longer he stays, the more his chest tightens.

It’s just annoyance, he tells himself as he finally walks away. Nothing more, nothing less. He has no feelings for you. It’s just annoyance and anger at Jaemin.

Still, the voice in the back of his mind tells him otherwise.

Shut up, he tells the voice.

His mind responds with an image of your laughing eyes and smiling face.

. . . . .

So what if Jeno returns to earth more and more often these days? Renjun might question it, but Jeno just tells him he needs to get out of heaven. The ever-present brilliant, white purity gets stifling.

The excuse, for the most part, is true. Especially after recent events, Jeno finds himself feeling a little trapped within heaven’s bright clouds. But that still doesn’t explain why Jeno consistently returns to the same place every time he descends.

There’s a little café next door to your music shop. Over a couple of weeks, he learns that the shop belongs to your brother, and you merely help there part-time. In front of the café, there are a few small tables and Jeno often sits there, absently sipping at a cup of coffee.

It feels a little stalker-ish. He doesn’t talk to you like Jaemin does, but he tries not to watch you too obviously either. He doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing there. All he knows is that seeing your smile and hearing your voice, even if they aren’t directed at him, make him feel a little happier every day.

But his blood boils whenever he watches Jaemin enter the shop with a cup of coffee, exiting with your hand in his and sweet words on his lips.

What is Jaemin doing? Jeno wonders. Is he hoping to form a relationship with you? Surely even he wouldn’t be that stupid? That would just hurt you in the end.

This is why Jeno avoids feelings, tries to keep everything professional. Because if he doesn’t, he could just end up in the same sticky situation he is sure Jaemin will end up in. He’s not blind. He sees Jaemin’s small winces when you hit his arm a little too hard, sees the bright red markings on his skin where his shirt dips a little too low in the back. Lucifer is punishing him, definitely.

He doesn’t feel any satisfaction, though. Maybe Jaemin is getting what he deserves, but he just keeps coming back like a fool. If anything, he feels anger. Frustration. When will Jaemin learn that actions have consequences? His actions will only end up hurting himself. And more importantly, they will only end up hurting you.

So he corners Jaemin one day. He ignores Jaemin’s yelp of surprise when he grabs his shoulder, ignores the small wince of pain and look of loathing Jaemin flashes his way. Schooling his features into a cold glare, he snaps, “Leave her alone.”

Jaemin’s features set into ice. “And why should I?”

“You’re corrupting her,” Jeno snaps. “And you’re not supposed to be with her, exception or no.”

He can tell he’s hit a nerve and that just infuriates him even more. Jaemin knows what the consequences of his actions could be – he just doesn’t care.

“Too bad I’ve never quite been one for rules, though, Jael.” Jaemin’s lighthearted tone is forced and he refuses to look into Jeno’s eyes. It’s all Jeno can do to not smack the younger demon in the face and force him to make eye contact. “And corrupting? I think that’s a bit of a strong word, don’t you think?”

“Clearly not if I just used it,” Jeno spits. “I choose my words carefully, unlike you.”

A beat of silence. Then – “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeno lets out a carefully measured sigh, biting back his instinct to just punch Jaemin in his stupid face. Ignoring all of the passerby’s looks, he grabs Jaemin harshly and forces the demon to face him. “What do you think you’re doing?” Jeno hisses. “Telling her sweet words, making promises you can’t keep, revealing everything? She’s a human, she’s your assignment, for heaven’s sake. All you’re doing is hurting her!”

His outburst leaves him breathless. He has so much more to say and he almost spits it all out, but he forces himself to shut up.

Jaemin fights to maintain a neutral expression. “If I didn’t know better,” he responds coolly, “I’d think you cared for her.” He raises an eyebrow. “But we both know that isn’t true, right?”

Jeno wants to slap the smirk off of Jaemin’s lips, even as the demon turns to walk away.

“I may not be able to stop you,” Jeno warns, “but your kind most certainly can.”

He sees Jaemin’s jaw clench, but he doesn’t look back.

Jeno remains there for some time, gazing into the shop window and watching you help customers with that bright smile on your face. Something in his heart aches a little.

It doesn’t matter. Jeno turns around, looking for a quiet place where he can disappear without notice.

You don’t deserve for Jaemin to break your heart. You don’t deserve the pain he or Jaemin will bring.

As he disappears into light, Jeno promises himself that he will help you live as long as you can.

No matter what.

. . . . .

Several months after your first meeting, Jeno finally musters up the courage to visit you under the pretense of making sure you’re okay. Your most recent brush with death, an encounter with an armed man in a dark alley at night, left you very shaken and truly, Jeno feels bad enough for you that he’s willing to break the rules of heaven and hell to make sure you’re alright.

“Jeno!” you exclaim as he walks through the doors. For a moment, Jeno contemplates running away. The full force of your bright countenance is almost too much for him to handle.

He steels himself. He came to see you and ensure that you’re alright. He broke rules to come here. So instead of bolting, Jeno gives you a small smile. “Hello, Y/N.”

A short bout of silence hangs in the air as the two of you simply look at each other. Jeno starts to feel a little uncomfortable. Who knows what Jaemin’s told you about him, or even about angels in general? What if you already hate him?

The thought of that hurts a little more than he thought it would.

But your smile doesn’t fade. If anything, it becomes gentler as Jeno’s discomfort grows.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Jeno finally blurts out. “You looked a little shaken up last time. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

Pain flashes across your eyes for a moment, and then it clears. “It’s alright.” You look down for second, then grin brightly at him. “Besides, I have you and Jaemin to protect me, don’t I?”

Well, yes, you do. Until some predetermined point.

A point that Jeno is more than willing to push back for you.

“Yes,” is all he replies. “Did…” He trails off. He wants badly to ask if Jaemin has already come by to comfort you, but that’s a dumb question. Of course he has. He wouldn’t have waited several days, unlike Jeno.

“Hm?” You look at him questioningly.

“Never mind.” Jeno shakes his head. “I just came to make sure you were all right, and you seem to be fine.” He does his best to smile, turning to leave.

“Would you mind staying a little longer?”

He freezes in place. Why would you ask that?

“I just…” Jeno turns back around to see you playing with your fingers. “I’m very curious about this whole angels and demons thing. Jaemin’s told me some of it, but I’ve only ever gotten his point of view. I want to know what you think, as an angel.”

If he stays, he will be a hypocrite. He will be doing just what he berated Jaemin for doing – for breaking the rules, speaking to you, telling you about his world.

But at least he isn’t whispering sweet nothings in your ear. At least he isn’t giving anything but rote information, not giving into the fluttering feelings in his chest. He might even be helping you by giving you another point of view to see things from.

“Sure.”

This time, the smile on his face is real.

. . . . .

Jeno hands you your cup of coffee across the table. With the sun so bright, the two of you are sitting across from each other in a darker corner of the café. The air conditioning is blissfully cool against Jeno’s skin.

“So what do you want to know?” Jeno asks to start the conversation.

“Tell me about fate.” Your face turns serious. “I know what demons believe – or at least I know what Jaemin believes.” You gaze at him intently. “I want to know what you believe.”

Jeno swallows, wondering how best to express himself. Several seconds pass, then he opens his mouth to speak.

“Fate exists. It is real,” he begins carefully. “But as an angel, I believe fate can be changed. Who says that the universe has to set the future in absolute stone? No one knows.”

Your gaze, steady in his, gives him the courage to continue. “I don’t believe in unnecessary tampering with fate. But I don’t think it’s quite fair that some die so early, when they have their entire lives ahead of themselves, while others who are far less deserving are allowed to enjoy life for so much longer.” He takes a sip from his cup. “Demons will tell you that it is not our duty to meddle with fate, that the universe has a balance we cannot upset. However, if someone deserves to live longer, I can’t stand idly by. I will do my best to help them enjoy the gift of life for longer.”

You nod slowly. “I see.”

“That’s my view.” Jeno attempts to smile. “I think I’m correct. I think the demons are very wrong, so I can’t get along with them. But…” He swallows. It’s hard to get the next words out, but he manages. “People are not all the same. In fact, not all of us angels agree on things completely. Some angels I know don’t believe in fate at all. So if someone else has another view, they are not necessarily wrong. Merely… different. Different from me.”

If Renjun could hear him now, he’d probably give Jeno the cold shoulder for a week. But Renjun isn’t here, and for once, Jeno is free to express the thoughts he’s kept buried in his mind since the first day someone shook up his thoughts.

“Why did you want to ask me about this, anyway?” Jeno looks at you curiously. “I would’ve thought Jaemin would tell you all you wanted to know.” He’s not sure if he’s successful at keeping all the bitterness out of his tone.

You purse your lips. “I like to hear all sides of a story,” you finally reply. “In order to form an opinion, one must always hear all views, no? Your beliefs are as important as Jaemin’s, and even though Jaemin might do well in summarizing the way you think, you do much better explaining because you know yourself.”

He feels oddly touched at that, touched that you trust him enough to listen to his opinion. His heart beats a little faster.

“I’m glad you trust me enough to talk to me.” Jeno smiles softly.

“I’m glad I have someone else to speak to,” you reply.

Jeno’s eyebrows furrow at that. “I thought Jaemin might give you plenty to talk about.”

A pensive look stretches across your face. “Jaemin is lovely.” You smile, though it’s a bit more reserved than before. “But like I said, he only expresses one set of beliefs.” Your smile turns sadder. “And to form an opinion on this… matter… is very important to me.”

Worry furrows Jeno’s eyebrows even further as he carefully takes in your appearance. He didn’t quite notice it before, but your eye bags are a little darker, your face paler. Is he just imagining it? Or are you really sick?

And if you are sick, is it life-threatening?

A stone drops in Jeno’s stomach. Jeno can attempt to prolong lives through many means – carrying someone out of a fire, blocking a knife, pulling them back from tipping over a bridge. But terminal illness?

That isn’t something he can easily help.

You place your hand over Jeno’s, jerking him out of his thoughts. “I’m fine,” you murmur, answering his unspoken question. You smile gently as though to prove it, though Jeno still isn’t fully convinced. “Thank you for talking with me.” Your smile grows wider. “I know you’re a little more of a rule-follower than Jaemin is, but if you ever want to come over to visit or anything, the shop is always open to you.”

Jeno blushes a little. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

. . . . .

He doesn’t expect to be cornered later that week but Jaemin exists to surprise him. Jeno is lying down in a small, secluded park, staring at the sky when Jaemin yells. “Jael!”

Jeno already knows this can’t be good when he stands, turning around, to see Jaemin’s snarl.

“What do you want?” Jeno snaps. Trust a demon to ruin his day, he thinks.

Jaemin’s eyes flash with fire and pain. “So you told me to stay away from Y/N,” he hisses, “but then you go and tell her a bunch of crap about me, right?” He heaves a breath. “Hypocrite, much?”

A bunch of crap? Jeno thinks that’s a little unfair. Though he did express his own perspective as an angel, nowhere did he outright bash Jaemin for his beliefs. Staring into the demon’s eyes, though, Jeno thinks maybe you didn’t get to tell that part. Because clearly the two of you talked.

Jaemin’s always been a hot-blooded one.

“What is wrong with you?!” The wind starts picking up on Jaemin’s anger, swirling leaves about their feet. He doesn’t even seem to notice. “What is your problem? I get that you hate me and I do too but for fuck’s sake, I would never purposely try to ruin your happiness!”

His happiness. You are Jaemin’s happiness. His joy. His love.

Something sinks in Jeno’s chest.

“So you admit it, then?” Jeno finally asks, his quiet voice a sharp contrast to Jaemin’s barbed tones. “You admit that she’s your happiness?”

The wind grows stronger, but Jeno holds his ground, staring into Jaemin’s conflicted eyes. He wonders briefly why he doesn’t loudly proclaim his love for you.

Then he knows.

Despite Jaemin’s hot blood and quick temper, he’s also very sensitive to emotion. At this point, there’s no way he hasn’t picked up on Jeno’s feelings for you.

And even though there are years of hatred between the two, Jeno knows that Jaemin wouldn’t be able to stomach gloating in front of him, not with so many emotions involved.

There’s no resentment left in Jeno. After years of people leaving him, after years of reflection, Jeno can’t bring himself to hate someone for feeling love. His hatred led to Haechan’s departure with Mark and Jaemin and Jisung. Then Chenle. Years of hurt suddenly manifest in Jeno’s chest and the pressure makes him want to collapse, but he forces himself to remain standing.

No, he won’t condemn feelings. He’ll just make sure those feelings are healthy. That you’ll be good for each other.

And right now, Jeno isn’t so sure Jaemin is performing to his expectations.

He studiously avoids Jaemin’s gaze as he disappears into a flash of light.

. . . . .

It takes weeks for the urge to build up again, enough so that Jeno takes action. He’s very good at suppressing his own feelings, and usually they don’t bother him again once he’s ignored them for long enough. But the urge to visit you only grows stronger, bit by bit, until it’s so strong that Jeno can’t ignore it any longer. Against his better judgement, he touches down in front of your shop and enters the door.

He can’t see you, though he thinks he hears your voice in the back room. Awkwardly, he stands by a rack of CDs and waits. The wait gives him some time to think.

Jeno likes you. That much is obvious, even to himself, and he can’t deny it any longer. What else could explain the urge to break the rules and visit you? What else could explain the stuttering of his heart and the burst of happiness in his chest whenever he sees you smile?

So maybe Jeno has less-than-neutral feelings for you, something he never thought would happen. A little burst of annoyed shame colors his cheeks slightly. He used to berate Jaemin for going against the rules and falling for a human, and now he’s done the same.

In his defense, though, he isn’t acting on the feelings. The most he’s doing is making sure you’re okay. No teasing words, no flirtatious smiles. No empty promises.

But none of that matters, does it? It isn’t like being a gentleman will win you over. It’s already very clear that Jaemin has your heart, and even though Jeno would dearly like to compete, loyalty to heaven and concern for you prevent him from doing so. He won’t make himself happy at the cost of his wings and your smile.

Lost in thought, Jeno nearly misses you coming out of the back room. He only notices when you call out his name, eagerly heading toward him. He gives you a small smile and a wave before his eyes widen in shock.

If you were pale last time, your skin has now taken on a bit of a sickly tinge. The bags under your eyes are gone, but Jeno can see the foundation cracking slightly where they would be. The sparkle in your eyes is still there, but barely present, and your smile seems a little forced.

Quickly, he looks down at his wrist at your star. Only then does he realize how pale it’s become.

His heart drops.

“Are you alright?” Jeno asks, almost reaching out a hand to touch your face. He quickly stops himself.

He knows it’s bad when you don’t even deny it. “I don’t think so.” Your lips sag into a half-smile. “Haven’t gotten any diagnosis yet, but I don’t think it’s going to be good.”

“Sit down,” Jeno instructs, heading over to a small bench beside a shelf of albums. Quietly, you sit. Jeno takes his place beside you.

“You knew,” he starts. “You knew the last time we talked.”

You shake your head slightly. “I didn’t know at the time. I suspected it though.” You bring a hand to your heart. “Sometimes you just… feel things. You know?”

Jeno does know. He nods. “Have you told Jaemin yet?”

The question burns on his teeth and tongue as the words leave his mouth, but he needs to know if Jaemin is still following his heart. What if that weakens you further? Emotional tolls can lead to physical degradation, and Jeno doesn’t want any of that to happen to you, even if Jaemin might make you happy.

You shake your head. “No. I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

The answer surprises him. He knows the two of you spoke at least once after you met with him, and that the conversation might have led to a quasi-fight. But the fact that you haven’t told Jaemin of your condition and the fact that he hasn’t come by in weeks speaks volumes.

Did his words have that much of an effect on the two of you? The thought should make Jeno feel some mean happiness, but he only feels slightly sick.

“He knows we met.” You turn your clear eyes to Jeno again. “I told him a little bit of what you said. It’s partly my fault – I was a little upset at him so he left. He just… didn’t come back.”

“That’s… that’s not right,” Jeno whispers. He shakes his head. “I met with him after you talked, I guess.” He grimaces a little at the memory. “He wasn’t very… happy?”

You snort without mirth. “I didn’t tell him because at the time, I wasn’t sure of anything. But I think he does suspect something’s up.”

Jeno sighs. “I’m sorry if my words made things difficult between you two.”

“Don’t be.” You touch his arm softly. “You told the truth, which was what I needed most. I needed your words. I just… I guess Jaemin assumed you’d talked shit or something, and I didn’t get the chance to tell him you didn’t.” You look down again. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Jeno smiles down at you, then notes the time. “I should probably go now, but please get some rest. Even if nothing’s official yet, I don’t want you – I mean, you shouldn’t get hurt.”

You thank Jeno with the gentlest look in your eyes. The look stays in his mind as he leaves the shop, giving him the determination to do what he must. Even if he hates it.

. . . . .

He scours the world to find Jaemin and finally finds the demon taking a walk along a quiet beach. Clenching his fists and jaw, Jeno touches down in front of him, making Jaemin yelp in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” Jaemin finally asks after a long period of silence.

Anger boils in Jeno’s chest. “Y/N told me you haven’t been to see her in weeks.”

More silence.

“So you’re still visiting her?” Jaemin asks, looking something between furious and resigned.

“That’s what you’re fixated on?” Jeno yells. “She’s sick and needs you by her side and that’s what you’re fixated on?”

Jaemin’s eyes widen. “She’s sick?” he whispers.

“You dense piece of shit.” Jeno kicks up sand out of frustration. “She’s waiting for you! She needs you!”

“I thought she hated me,” Jaemin murmurs, more to himself than to Jaemin.

If you could see the look in her eyes when she spoke of you, you would know she definitely doesn’t hate you, Jaemin.

“Cut the bullshit.” Jeno roughly shakes Jaemin’s shoulders. “Go back to Y/N. Comfort her. Do your best to keep her happy. You hear me?” He shakes him again. “Do you?”

Jaemin pulls away. “So you don’t make her happy?”

Jeno swallows. “Not the way you do.”

The tension in the air thickens.

“Sorry,” Jaemin mumbles.

Hearing Jaemin apologize does something to Jeno’s heart. It doesn’t flip-flop, but it stutters bit little. It feels a little warm. He looks at Jaemin with less venom in his expression.

“Don’t be,” he replies brusquely, even though he still hurts. “I care about her. Not about you.” He stares right into Jaemin’s eyes. “Go back to her, or I’ll hunt you down.”

Jaemin nods, then disappears into his shadow. Jeno stays for a little while longer, mulling over his own thoughts. In the end, one goal emerges.

Jaemin may make you happy. But Jaemin is a demon. He believes in predestined fate, in letting the universe work out the way it wants.

Jeno is an angel. He believes you deserve a longer life.

So even though Jaemin may be your happiness, Jeno will do all he can to keep you alive as long as possible.

Just so you can feel happy longer.

. . . . .

Jeno visits you a little more often, but always avoids Jaemin to the best of his ability. He manipulates the doctors at the hospital you end up at, pays for some of your bills, gets you moved into one of the nicest wards at the facility. He may not know anything about medicine, but he can pay your bills and get you the best treatment.

But it irks him that Jaemin does nothing. He brings you snacks and books, but where is his dedication to keeping you alive? Jeno understands that Jaemin is a demon, but surely your love won’t prevent him from wanting you to live?

“Jaoel,” he calls out on one particularly bad day. His bad mood is half the reason why he won’t call Jaemin by his human name. Jaemin’s walking out of the hospital when he hears Jeno. No one else is around.

“Who’s the one that didn’t want me calling them by their God-given name?” Jaemin mocks.

Jeno bites down on his lip and prays to the heavens for patience. Anger and impatience and sorrow and terror roil in his mind, condensing into one single thought.

“Are you really going to let her die?”

The wind starts to pick up, but this time, it isn’t because of Jaemin. It’s because of Jeno. Flecks of dirt and small pebbles start to rise around their feet but he can’t find it in himself to care.

Because the hopelessness at possibly losing you is far more important to him now than anything else in the world.

“Don’t you dare,” Jaemin whispers.

“Don’t I dare what, Jaoel?” Jeno steps forward. “Tell me. Don’t. I. Dare. What?”

Silence, save for the whistling of the wind.

“You’re not the only one who loves her, you know,” Jeno hisses.

“And you’re not the person who knows best for her!” Jaemin yells.

“And are you, Jaemin? ARE YOU?!”

Because at least Jeno’s trying. He can’t see any of that effort from Jaemin.

“No,” Jaemin snaps, “but I know that she doesn’t deserve to suffer even more than she already has.” Pain clouds his eyes. “Would you really want her to suffer like this?” he murmurs, turning away.

That last action, Jaemin turning away, sets Jeno off. “Do you really love her if you would let her go so easily?” Jeno finally spits, giving voice to the thoughts ricocheting through his mind at the speed of light. “Is that really love, Jaoel, is that all she’s worth to you?”

Jaemin spins around. “Don’t you dare insinuate that I want her to die!”

“If you truly loved her, you’d want her to live as long as possible!” Jeno yells.

“And this is what I hate about you angels!” Jaemin screams. “You always think everything can be perfect, but it can’t. Nothing can be perfect! No one, just because they are who they are, can live longer or shorter than they are supposed to! You can’t decide that!”

“And look at you.” Jeno’s chest is heaving with all the pain he feels in his heart. “All high and mighty because you think you’re doing the right thing. But should some lives not be preserved for as long as possible?” Tears threaten to slip out of Jeno’s eyes but he holds them back with herculean effort. “You can’t tell me you don’t believe she deserves it. No, not even her – you can’t tell me you’ve never met a single person who deserved to live longer than they did!”

The ache in Jeno’s heart feels stronger, heavier than ever. If he was ever in doubt of it, he is sure now.

He, Lee Jeno, Jaoel, angel of God, is in love with you. And it hurts to know that you will never love him back. That your affectionate eyes will never gaze upon him with anything more than friendship, that your gentle touches will never mean anything more than small comfort.

If anyone deserves to live longer, Jeno thinks, it is you. He can’t understand why Jaemin doesn’t see that.

“Do you think I want her to die?” Jaemin’s whisper carries like a gunshot. “Do you really think I want her to die?”

No. Jeno doesn’t. But he thinks Jaemin’s actions say otherwise.

“Life is only precious because there is death. The only thing people can do is treasure life as long as they have it.” Jaemin swallows, and for the first time, Jeno sees the glimmer of a tear in Jaemin’s eyes.

“Then shouldn’t people have it longer?” he whispers.

“If that is so, Jael, then why aren’t humans immortal?”

Jaemin’s next words strike Jeno straight in the heart.

“Part of loving someone is knowing when you must let them go.”

. . . . .

Renjun’s waiting for Jeno when he returns to heaven with an uncharacteristically blank look on his face. He says nothing when Jeno greets him, only looks at him, lost in thought.

“Renjun?” Jeno plasters a fake smile to his face, waving a hand in front of Renjun’s eyes. “You good?”

“You love someone, don’t you?”

No.

Renjun can’t have found out. It can’t be true. Terror races through Jeno’s heart and he can only think no, Renjun can’t tell anyone this because Jeno can’t lose his wings and his ability to protect.

He can’t.

“Relax.” Renjun’s hand on Jeno’s arm jerks him out of his spiraling thoughts and he fully takes in the look on Renjun’s face. “I won’t tell.”

“How…?” Jeno whispers.

Renjun shrugs. The look on his face is a little hurt, but also very understanding and even a little ashamed. “You were disappearing to earth for longer periods than usual. There’s also a very obvious look on your face. I got curious. Please don’t be angry but… I followed you the last time. I heard your argument with… him.”

Jeno should probably feel some sort of annoyance that Renjun followed him, but the lost, sad look on his friend’s face wipes any of that away. Instead, he sits Renjun down and drapes an arm around his shoulder.

“Do you think I’ve been too harsh?” Renjun mumbles. He turns to Jeno. “Don’t lie to me. It’s… I mean, it’s gotten to the point where even you’ve been hiding things from me.”

A wave of shame crashes over Jeno, but he only sees understanding and sadness in Renjun’s eyes. It gives him the courage to nod a little. “Too harsh… might be putting it lightly,” Jeno says carefully.

Renjun sighs. “I’m sorry.” A tear spills out of his eye. “I’m sorry I’ve been so fixated on heaven, so fixated on… me, to give any thought to you. Or Chenle. Or anyone else.” He swallows as another tear runs down his face. “It just hurt. Hurt too much.”

Jeno knows what he’s talking about. After all, he’s the only one Renjun told his entire story to. And the knowledge of what Renjun is feeling only urges him to pull his friend closer, which he does.

“I won’t deny that your behavior was… really harsh and bitter.” Jeno swallows. “But I understand. You loved her. It was betrayal.”

“But I let it get to the point… the p-point where everyone left.” Renjun hiccups, trying to swallow his incoming sobs. “First her. Then Haechan and Mark and Jaemin and Jisung. Then Chenle. What if…” He tries again. “What if…”

Jeno’s heart clenches. “Never,” he whispers. “I won’t leave you. Ever.”

“I’m sorry.” Renjun is full on sobbing into Jeno’s shoulder now. “I’m sorry I ruined everything. I’m sorry I ruined our relationship with the others, I’m sorry I ruined your friendship with Jaemin. I’m sorry I drove Chenle away. I’m sorry he was kicked out of heaven.”

“Wait.”

Renjun lifts his head.

“You mean you weren’t the reason Chenle lost his wings?” Jeno whispers.

Renjun’s lips curl in an ashamed smile. “My actions must have been so bad that you’d think that of me,” he murmurs. “But no. Someone else saw. I don’t know who, but it wasn’t me. I was angry and betrayed, but it wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do that.”

Now it’s Jeno’s heart that fills with shame and against his will, tears start slipping out of his eyes too. “I’m sorry too,” he whispers, pulling Renjun close. “I’m sorry I ever thought that of you.”

The next few minutes are only filled with sniffles and hiccupped sobs.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Renjun finally whispers. “It’s my fault Mark and the others left without saying anything to us.”

Jeno thinks for a moment. “No,” he answers. “I think… I think this was a long time coming. We had different beliefs that we pretended not to see. Haechan’s trial was just the tipping point.”

They stay silent long enough to watch the lights start blinking out in the city beneath them.

“Tell me about her,” Renjun suddenly says.

Jeno looks at him, surprised.

“Tell me about the girl you love.” Renjun smiles, and for the first time in over a decade, it looks truly genuine. “I want to know the girl who melted Jeno’s stone-cold heart.”

“Hey!” Jeno whines, pushing Renjun away slightly. “I don’t have a stone-cold heart!”

Renjun only raises an eyebrow and leans back into Jeno’s shoulder. “Tell me about her.” His voice becomes quiet. “I want to hear about your love.”

Something happy and sad fills Jeno’s body with warmth. “All right,” he murmurs.

And that night, as they watch the stars, Jeno tells his true friend of the girl with the gentleness of the stars in her eyes.

. . . . .

Jeno steps into your room quietly, closing the door gently behind him. “Hi,” he greets.

“Hi.” You smile at him from the hospital bed.

He smiles, sitting down at the chair beside your bed. “Just making sure you’re all right.” He places a bag of cookies on a small table nearby. “And…” He swallows. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

“Of course.” You touch his arm, and in that press of your skin against his, he feels the warmth of friendship. And though he knows it’ll never be a touch of love, he finds that he’ll be okay with that. The realization gives him the courage to keep speaking.

You listen intently as Jeno admits his feelings for you. Not once do you turn away or let your gaze waver and Jeno only feels his heart expand with affection. This is the reason he fell for you, he thinks. Your quiet strength and strong conviction.

“I know you love Jaemin, and it’s clear to see that Jaemin loves you too.” The smile he wears still carries bitterness, but far less than it used to. It’s a start. “I just wanted to give you closure about me. I won’t compete. I just… I don’t think I could let you go without telling you how I feel.”

He only just finishes the sentence when the door opens.

Speak of the devil.

Jaemin stands in the doorway.

“Hi,” you greet, a smile on your face. Jeno sees the love in your eyes and when he looks over at Jaemin, he finds it mirrored in his.

You belong together.

“Hi,” Jaemin greets, shooting a cautious glance at Jeno. “Why’s he here?”

“We were discussing things,” Jeno replies, a little miffed at Jaemin for interrupting. “Can you leave us for a bit?”

Jeno watches the two of you exchange a look, then Jaemin nods and closes the door behind him.

“Back to where we left off,” you joke, but then your expression turns serious. “Thank you, Jeno.” Your smile is genuine. “Telling the truth… that really means a lot to me.”

“I hope things won’t be weird between us now?” Jeno finds the courage to ask. “I’d like to still be… friends? I guess?”

Your laugh fills the room with cheer. “Always, Jeno.” You squeeze his hand quickly. “Friends. Always.”

There are no regrets left in Jeno’s heart when he stands up to leave. A small smile has made its way onto his face by the time he opens the door, but the sight beyond in front of him quickly erases it. “Sorry,” he mumbles to Jaemin, whom he nearly knocked over with the door. He quickly begins to walk away.

“Hey!” Jaemin yells down the hall. “What were you talking about in there?”

Jeno turns. “I was giving her some closure. About me.”

Jaemin’s shoulders tense.

“Don’t worry.” The laugh he lets out has no joy behind it. “She still loves you.”

The two of them stare at each other for a long time, a thousand words hanging unsaid in the air between them. Jeno’s just about to leave when Jaemin utters two words.

“I’m sorry.”

Jeno’s eyes widen slightly in surprise. So many emotions ripple in Jaemin’s eyes and it would take Jeno years to decipher them all, but he can pick out the remorse. Remorse for leaving. For the betrayal. For loving you. For everything.

The tightness in his chest loosens as the tension leak out of his expression. “Don’t be.”

Jaemin’s gaze remains steady. “But I am.”

For several seconds that feel like hours, the two boys stare at each other. Then Jeno nods a little, turning away.

He accepts it. He accepts the apology. Maybe one day, he’ll find the courage to apologize to Jaemin too.

. . . . .

Jeno is there when you die. He knows the drill. Your star glows, he touches it, and then he finds himself in the corner of your room, invisible. Jaemin might be able to sense his presence, but if he does, he doesn’t show it.

Understandable. With everything going on, Jeno is only able to focus on you. He can’t imagine how Jaemin must feel.

Well, actually, he can. But no matter. Jaemin should be the one at your side. Not him.

So Jeno watches from the corner, watches Jaemin hold your hand, watches him kiss you one last time, watches your eyes flutter open and your mouth whisper something to the demon you love. He watches your eyes shut, watches your hand go slack in Jaemin’s, watches the heart monitor go flat.

He leaves immediately after, unable to stomach the tears of your relatives and unable to hide his own. Renjun holds him that night as Jeno hiccups sobs under the stars. You will appear in heaven soon, he knows, but the pale purity of God’s realm is a far cry from the comforting reality of the city streets. He would give anything to give you the gift of life for just a little longer.

. . . . .

He finds you three days later. You’re being shown around by an older angel, looking healthy and whole and Jeno thinks his heart bursts when he sees you.

You look uncomfortable, though. Jeno can see it in your eyes, in the way you shift your weight from foot to foot as the angel explains things to you. He can see it in the blatant look of relief on your face when you see him, when the older angel finally lets you go with a practiced smile.

“You’re here,” is the first thing you say against Jeno’s chest when you crash into him in a massive hug. “Thank the stars.”

Jeno can barely find it in himself to say anything, so he only pats your head a little awkwardly. When you pull away, neither of you are dry-eyed.

“You want to find Jaemin, don’t you?” Jeno asks when the two of you are calmer.

You bite your lip as you nod. “I don’t know where to start, though,” you confess.

Staring into your eyes, Jeno falls in love again with your determination and perseverance. And in that moment, he makes a choice.

“I’ll help you.” He smiles a little. “Don’t worry.”

. . . . .

He sees Jaemin later that night, leaving a convenience store with Jisung. Head buried in a hoodie, Jeno doesn’t look up until right before he passes them. In that moment, he shares a glance with Jaemin.

I’m sorry, Jeno tries to say through his eyes. I’m sorry for your loss.

Jaemin’s look is one of apology as well.

Quickly, Jeno turns away. The two demons pass and melt into the shadows of a storefront. Jeno stares at the space where they disappeared for some time.

You’ll see her soon, Jaemin. He swallows. I promise.

. . . . .

“Here,” Jeno whispers, his eyes darting from side to side. He knows Renjun promised to cover for them, but he can’t help but be cautious. It took a lot of sneaking around to find this place and he really doesn’t want all of his hard work to be for nothing. “This is where the divide between earth and hell weakens. Just go down these stairs and wait. Someone will sense your presence and take you to Lucifer.”

Your eyes are bright with unshed tears. “Thank you, Jeno,” you barely whisper.

He squeezes your hand once. “When you get there, Lucifer may interrogate you.” His jaw tightens. “If he decides to allow you in, they will rip off your wings. I would tell you to be brave, but…” His eyes soften as he looks at you. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that.”

Unexpectedly, you seize Jeno into a tight embrace. “Thank you for doing this for me,” you whisper into his ear. “Thank you so much.”

Jeno starts a little.

Thank you for doing this for me.

In that moment, he realizes. It wasn’t just for you.

It was for love, yes. But friendship is also a type of love, is it not?

It was also for Jaemin.

“You’re welcome,” is all he can say in the face of this realization. Jeno bites his lip hard to keep the tears from falling. “Make sure Jaemin treats you right. If he doesn’t, you’re welcome to let me know.” A teasing half-smile appears on his trembling lips.

You laugh, and Jeno tries to memorize the sound. He hopes to hear your laugh many more times in the future, but just in case that doesn’t happen, he wants to keep a memory of it. A memory of you.

“Go, now.” Jeno gives you a gentle push. “Be brave.”

So what if his heart breaks a little as you descend the stairs?

. . . . .

Jeno sits with Renjun on a small field in the country, gazing at the night sky. The stars twinkle cheerfully against the blackness of night. The sight is comforting and soothes Jeno’s cracked heart.

“It hurt, didn’t it?” Renjun murmurs.

He nods. “Yes.” Because it did – it hurt a lot. But at the same time…

“But not as much as I expected.”

They sit in silence for a while. “How so?” Renjun finally asks.

That makes Jeno think for a bit. Why doesn’t he feel all the pain that he expected?

“Maybe…” Jeno starts slowly, “maybe it’s because I know we might meet again in the sky.”

Renjun hums a little, staring at the blanket of night.

“And I think…” Jeno places a hand over Renjun’s. “When you love someone, their happiness takes precedence over yours. If they’re happy, you will be too.”

“Yeah.” Renjun sighs. “But at the same time… everyone, not just her… they just left. I loved them all. Why did their leaving feel so difficult?”

“We were all close,” Jeno replies. “So close. It would’ve hurt anybody. You truly loved her and your story in general is just so built around giving people the life and love they deserve, so I guess everyone else’s departure just… hit you the hardest.”

“When did you become so wise?” Renjun looks over at him, a hint of a smile on his face.

Jeno smiles. “Well, a lot of things have made me think over the past year.”

They sit in silence for a while longer.

“Do you think anything I did could’ve made them stay?” Renjun whispers, so softly that Jeno almost doesn’t hear. “Anything?”

“I don’t think so. Not in the long run.”

Wind whistles in the ensuing quiet.

“How did you let her go so easily?”

A half smile of sadness spreads across Jeno’s lips. “Someone once told me that part of loving someone is knowing when to let them go.”

Renjun nods. They stare at the winking stars.

So far as Jeno knows, no one controls the stars. Not God, not Lucifer. No, the stars are controlled by a force far older, far more powerful than any Jeno has ever known.

For in the night sky, there are no angels, there are no demons. There are only stars, beings who have been rewarded for their faithful service, no matter their side. For who knows which side is good or bad? What controls each side are beliefs, and only the universe will ever know which belief is right. No one else will.

They say that in the sky, the stars twinkle side by side in peace, with no divisions to split them. An angel’s star may be next to a demon’s, yet they coexist in tranquility, lighting the shadows of night no matter what.

Jeno smiles a little sadly, staring up at the dark sky studded with lights.

Maybe one day he will have a star, a star that will glow bright in a constellation with his friends. Maybe in the night sky they will smile and laugh the way they did so long ago when they had not a care in the world, when they were on the same side. Maybe your star will be there too – Jeno has no doubt that you will be rewarded for your service.

The constellations wink at him, as though promising that his wish will come true. And why not? He already has one friend by his side. As if to affirm this, Renjun squeezes his hand softly.

Jeno’s smile grows a little wider. Maybe one day he will have a star.

And maybe his star will be next to yours.

#nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct jeno #jeno #kpop #fluff #angst #triggers #death #cancer #angel/demon au #nct dream scenarios #nct jeno scenarios #leave an angel #scriptura-delirus

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laora-inn · 4 years

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Supernatural - Destiel and Crowley, seasons 6-12

Hi, guys.

I’ve re-watched some episodes from Supernatural season 6 and that made me think about Destiel and Crowley - from season 6 to season 12 strictly.

I love Crowley and think he is one of the main characters which helped Destiel to become closest to canon, though in a hard way.

Destiel positive, one-sided Crowley/Cas, Crowley/Dean and Balthazar/Cas in subtext mentioned, don’t like - don’t read.

In the season 6, Cas’s working with Crowley was the reason of Dean and Cas’s fight, that literally almost ruined the world. From that point, Cas and Crowley have their own dynamics which Dean is far well acquainted with, though for us viewers it could be not so easy to follow.

Basically, Crowley stayed in the plot in season 6 just for these dynamics and Dean’s further frustration = jealousy. ‘Cause, if we’ll take a look at season 6, all the thing about Cas’s dealing with Crowley wasn’t so bad. Cas really had good purposes, Dean really could talk to him in a supportive way, and I strongly believe that in this case there will be NO Leviathans at all. As well as Cas’s “death”, they were a metaphorical result of Dean’s jealousy and bitter words, which also almost cost Sam his life.

Season 6 is a very interesting piece. For the first time, it’s not Sam who is the main character of the show. It’s more Dean’s story, and Cas is also “Dean’s“. He came mostly when Dean calls, they share “more profound“ bond.

Cas raises Sam from perdition, as he raised Dean, heals Sam, as he healed Dean, answers Sam’s prayers, when Dean doesn’t want to pray first, and is referred to as Sam’s “boyfriend” in 6x11 by Balthazar. But all these prompts to make Sam and Dean’s relationships with Cas equal fail.

Cas saves Sam from Hell FOR DEAN (and yet he can’t save THE WHOLE Sam, it’s Dean who manages to bring Sam’s soul back + Sam restores his memory himself, in time), heals Sam when Dean tells him to do it and THE OTHER WAY, just by touching his forehead, not by cupping his face intimately, as it was with Dean in 5x22. In 6x03 soulless Sam mentions that Cas doesn’t answer his prayers, then Dean prays to Cas, and Cas comes immediately, with the line about his and Dean’s more profound bond on his lips. In 6x10 soulless Sam tricks Cas with his prayer and even threats to kill him if Cas won’t help. In 6x12 Sam, not soulless anymore, tricks Cas with his prayer to know about his past and doesn’t want to hug him.

It’s all outlined. Why?

As for Balthazar’s referring in 6x11: he, of course, could have spoken about both Sam and Dean back there. “You” in “go ask your boyfriend” can be plural, but I rather suppose Balthazar meant Cas as Sam’s boyfriend specifically, and that’s as right as the fact that his words in 6x17, about “the other angel in a dirty trench coat who’s in love with you”, were specifically about Dean. And I’m sure, that in 6x17 Balthazar understands Cas’s intentions better - it’s the same episode where he saves Titanic because Cas told so. I suggest Cas and Balthazar’s reunion took place right before 6x15, ‘cause by the end of 6x15 we know that they are a new-formed team and all this episode has one purpose - to help Cas get the Heaven weapon from Balthazar. Misha’s cameo from 6x15 even tells some things about Balthazar while acting Cas - that Balthazar isn’t a hero and couldn’t beat Rafael, who isn’t definitely going to forgive him.

So, Balthazar’s words about Cas who is in love with Dean are more significant than his assumption about Cas as Sam’s boyfriend. We have enough evidences for the fact that Cas in this season is “Dean’s”, though he cares about Sam a lot.

First of all - ‘cause Sam is crucial for Dean.

No wonder that in 6x22 Cas knocks Sam down to crush Dean. He knows how it works.

So in this season Sam is a victim of Dean and Cas’s love quarrel, someone who is fostered by both of them. And this is the part of a plot structure, as well as Cas and Crowley’s and Cas and Balthazar’s little moments, which are not crucial for the whole Winchesters’ story, but are absolutely necessary to understand Cas in this season and his and Dean’s “hidden” plot.

‘Cause this “hidden” plot is the thing on which the main plot is grounded.

Balthazar and Cas had relationship before Dean was even born. Crowley and Cas had their relationship after Dean decided to have a peaceful life with Lisa and Ben, and this relationship matters from season 6 till the end of season 12. I think it’s basically the reason why Crowley helps Winchesters so much.

You see, for starters, Sam and Dean were just no one to Crowley. They were humans, not even his equals. But Cas - he was higher. As Dean in 5x22, in 6x20 Crowley sees a new “God” in Cas, the Heaven ruler. And he isn’t telling the whole truth about it for sure, but also he isn’t lying. I think in some way he respects Cas, even admires. And it’s not subtle in the plot logic, it’s the part of it.

Let’s check.

Season 6 - Cas and Crowley are working together all the way, Crowley doesn’t want Winchesters to intervene, he tries to kill them and is threatened by Cas. He said that Cas doesn’t know what he is. He is tricked by Cas twice, double-crossed, but not killed - opposite to Raphael. God!Cas needs Crowley.

Season 7 - In 7x01 God!Cas finds Crowley, but, again, doesn’t kill him. He makes authoritarian demands, which have weird subtext (“you take whatever I give you”) and really scare Crowley. He help the Winchesters to enslave Death, but has never did or even said something against God!Cas. In 7x23 Crowley reveals Cas is alive, but, unlike the angels, he isn’t mad. He wants explanations, receives some honey from Cas instead and says in philosophical manner: “karma is a bitch”. Later, he doesn’t try to kill Cas and even leaves Meg with the boys not to disappoint his “business partner”.

Season 8 - Crowley is a Big Bad this season. Also, this season is the first time than Destiel becomes a real thing textually, for both Dean and Cas. And Crowley is a BIG BAD in the middle of that finally hopeful love story. Coincidence? Hell no! Also, the first question that Crowley asks when he sees Dean alive is “Where is your angel?”.

In 8x02 Dean tries to kill Crowley who is possessing Kevin’s mum. Why? The same reason Kevin has: Crowley made him fight for his life for year and killed his girlfriend. That’s also relevant for Dean: Crowley is one of the main reasons why Dean must fight for his life for year in Purgatory and lost Cas there.

In 8x07 during their encounter Crowley doesn’t try to attack Cas. He also says, that Cas could call him when he was out the Purgatory. But Cas doesn’t want to make things right with Crowley, he tries to kill him and manages to have Kevin and the half of the demons’ tablet back. Without Cas it will be impossible: the text shows us that Cas doesn’t like Crowley. Not even a little, not anymore.

In 8x17 Crowley understands that Cas tricked Naomi and is kinda fond of that. Also, he kills Meg here, whom he was torturing for a year and who definitely was Cas’s crash in 7x21-7x23. We also saw that Crowley knew about it - and about the fact that in 8x17 all Meg did was helping Cas and protecting him from Crowley, even if this would cost her her life.

Strange, but this will be also Crowley’s future.

In 8x21 Crowley rescues Cas from Naomi. He also gets the angels’ tablet FROM THE CAS’S BODY, but lets Cas escape by leaving another angel with him and angel-killing bullet IN HIM.

Season 9 - in 9x10 Crowley is flirting with Cas as much as possible. Just re-watch it and pay attention to all of these “What are you, a pimp?”, “Oh, Cas, such a flirt”, “Hey. Watch the leg”, “I'll be listening to every word you say. - Promise?”, “Without the tie, he's barely recognizable” and “The three amigos ride again”. For some reason, it was more urgent for Crowley to talk about Cas’s being a human first and about Hell later. There was also deleted scene in 9x10, where Cas and Crowley waited for Dean in the motel. They were sitting on the same bed, Crowley called Cas “sunshine” and tried to talk with him about being human, then Dean showed up, and he was very concerned about how they are doing. Destiel shippers consider this scene as an approving one, and I’m totally agree, ‘cause it shows us that Dean is still jealous when it comes to Cas’s relationship with Crowley, and he actually HAS A POINT HERE - if we’ll look at Crowley. ‘Cause Crowley wasn’t interested in Dean back then, he was interested in Cas, who, in his own turn, was absolutely uninterested. He was against releasing Crowley from the start.

It’s 9x11 where Dean and Crowley begin to develop their own relationship, and I suppose it’s grounded on the mirroring each other. Back in season 8, it’s no wonder why Crowley wanted “to play Dean” for Kevin. He felt something common with Dean, and part of this “common” was Cas.

In 9x11 Crowley says that he tried to hate Dean more than Dean himself but failed. Here he puts Dean in danger by leading him to Cain, who gives Dean his Mark. After that Dean’s way down begins. But this is also true for Crowley! He becomes human blood junkie and in 9x16 needs help. Also, he helps Dean in the end of the season, brings him back - something that Cas and Sam couldn’t do.

Season 10 - here in 10x02 Crowley and Dean’s (b)romance ends, and Crowley helps Dean to return to his normal life... by saving Cas with stealing angel’s grace for him in 10x03. I simply don’t understand WHY Crowley helped Cas here if we’ll ignore their relationship and Destiel. Crowley didn’t know Sam can’t help Dean himself and needs help for surviving. And how the hell did Crowley know that Cas can save Dean, that it will work? Why was he so sure? His words “you owe me” to Cas mean nothing, he’ll never remember them. They sound just like an excuse!

I think here Crowley: 1) wants to save Cas because of their relationship; 2) knows that Cas could “fix the problem” with Dean because of Dean and Cas’s relationship; 3) has sentimental feelings for Dean despite of their break-up one episode earlier.

Crowley couldn’t control Dean. But he thinks Cas can. And he is no wrong!

In this episode Cas says to healed Dean that Crowley stole some grace for him and this is the story for the other time ‘cause he has a female waiting for him in his car. Dean is very unhappy to hear that, and not because of “female” alone, but also because of Crowley. Crowley and some woman are the reason of Cas’s leaving again. As usual.

In 10x14 there was also one deleted scene with Cas and Crowley, where Crowley called Dean Cas’s boyfriend. Cas reacted with: “Maybe, he is your boyfriend?” and Crowley responded: “He is not my type”.

True - ‘cause here Dean gives the First Blade to Cas, not Crowley, and says that he tricked Crowley about Cain’s going to kill him. But they don’t kill Crowley. It’s just Crowley being rejected by both of them.

Still, in 10x23, after Destiel fight, Cas summons Crowley and asks him for help. And Crowley helps! His only demand to Cas is TO BEG for help. To say “King” and “please”. Well, kinky.

Also, Crowley proposes Cas to call him. Not to summon. And by the end of this episode Cas is cursed by Rowena and almost manages to kill Crowley.

Season 11 - it begins with Cas’s acknowledging that he didn’t kill Crowley (and that’s good, Crowley was a big help to save Dean from the Mark). Also, Crowley here has an orgy in some woman’s body. It was more urgent to him than anything else. Hmm.

Some episodes later Crowley tries to be a foster parent for Amara. He is ready to kill Dean to protect her and fails. Amara becomes free, she wants to see God, the Winchesters want to stop her and call Crowley to see Lucifer. He guides them to Hell, where Cas becomes possessed by Lucifer. After saying good-bye to Sam and Dean Lucifer in Cas’s body returns to Hell, and Crowley isn’t hostile to him. He’s just surprised.

Then comes a long BDSM story for Lucifer in Cas’s body and Crowley, and Lucifer do all the things God!Cas might do to Crowley but didn’t. When Crowley is free, he is desperate to expel Lucifer from Cas and return him to the Cage. That’s his plan, not Sam’s or Dean’s. Dean wants to expel Lucifer from Cas and give him a new vessel to fight Amara. Sam even didn’t see a point here - Cas and Cas’s vessel are two different things for him.

Dean fails to expel Lucifer. So does Crowley - he tries in his own way, by possessing Cas’s vessel, like it was with Sam in 9x10. He says to Cas that Dean wants him to expel Lucifer, but Cas is depressed, so it doesn’t work. Also, Sam didn’t know, that he was possessed, and saw the point in fighting back, but Cas doesn’t see. So both Dean and Crowley fail.

Season 12 - here Cas and Crowley start to look for Lucifer together and this is a horrible piece of news to Dean. Cas left him in 12x03 to work with Crowley again! Cas and Crowley are playing FBI agents together - it was Dean’s only role-play with Cas from 5x03!

Cas isn’t happy either, but Crowley is. And that’s just amazing, ‘cause without Crowley Cas could be dead in 12x07. Lucifer just saw Crowley and wanted to punch him instead of Cas. No wonder that Dean thanked Crowley for helping Cas here. In 12x08 Crowley helps with Lucifer again. In 12x09 he is uninterested in looking for the Winchester boys, though in 12x12 he helps again - and not just with Ramiel. He rescues Cas from dying. Dean thanks him for that for the second time in 12x15.

In 12x21 Crowley knows about Cas’s bailing off with Kelly. He tells Lucifer about it and calls Cas “Winchesters’ love slave”. He thinks that Cas wants to kill Kelly’s baby. Then Lucifer gets free, and Crowley sacrifices himself to stop him. To save the world, the Winchesters... and Cas - for the third time.

So Cas was important for Crowley from season 6. He is one of the main reasons Crowley acknowledged Winchesters at all, saw something in them.

And Crowley, in his own turn, is one of the main characters to expose nature of Destiel. He was always somewhere in the middle of their relationship, mostly as Dean’s mirror.

Well, from season 13 the nature of Destiel changed.

#Destiel #destiel meta #destiel-meta #castiel #dean winchester #crowley #supernatural #SPN #dean/castiel #dean/cas #DEANCAS #CasDean #balthazar #spn balthazar

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notthatiwilleverwriteit · 5 years

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hey do u thingk he tian is jealous of brother qiu this chapter? like mo wants ride w/ qiu not go with he tian??

Good morning, anon-san! And congratulations! I believe you’re the first one who asked me “what do you think this and that meant in the previous chapter?” type of question. [Look, mom, I made it]

These are the panels you’re no doubt talking about (ch. 301):

“do u thingk he tian is jealous of brother qiu this chapter?”

No, I do not but I see where the readers who interpreted this as jealousy are coming from.

It seems the fandom is having the same kind of discussion we had not too long ago with ch. 282 when people debated about whether or not He Tian was jealous of She Li and demanded Mo Guan Shan wore the earrings because of that:

I talked about that chapter at length and came to the conclusion that even though HT’s objective with the earrings was to protect MGS, he went about it in his usual overbearing way which easily comes across as possessiveness. And it’s quite difficult to differentiate jealousy from possessiveness. I think HT had a need to show SL to whom MGS belongs in the sense that he’s under HT’s protection. But that’s still its own form of possessiveness even if it might have “pure” objectives.

I think the same can be applied to the situation with brother Qiu. Of whom would HT need to be jealous? Neither SH or Qiu are realistic love interests for MGS. Nor is MGS interested in either of them.

[At this point, I’d also like to point out I’m not going to feign utter bafflement by how people can even imagine pairing up Qiu who’s a grown man and MGS who’s barely out of middle school. It’s not that I have anything against age gap ships but I have a hard time believing that was really the point of many of the readers who saw jealousy in HT’s behavior.]

However, possessiveness works in a different direction. HT is a man of action rather than words, and he seems to have this habit of physically making his points across. He bodily interferes and drags MGS away from situations in which he doesn’t want him to get involved. That might come across as jealousy and overbearing but actually stems from his urge to protect MGS. Let’s not forget that even if HT doesn’t know everything Qiu and He Cheng are up to or what’s in store for Jian Yi, he still knows more about the overall underworld and how things work than MGS and JY.

And that is what I see in the latest chapter: HT interfering because he knows better than MGS. Of course, SH and Qiu aren’t the same, but HT needs to worry about both even though they represent different kinds of evils. Qiu (and HC) are there to keep an eye on JY but they’re also, before long, getting him (and his friends) involved in the kind of world and people with which HT wants them to have nothing do.

HT went as far as straight out telling HC to stay away from his friends (ch. 229):

He must be having this unpleasant foreboding that something is being planned, pieces on the board are moving, but not knowing what exactly. It makes him uneasy and on edge. [I talked about this in one of my earlier answers.] As much as I believe Qiu wouldn’t intentionally hurt the boys, he’s ultimately a part of those plans and his presence troubles and annoys HT. By associating with them and looking after them, he’s putting them in harm’s way.

Now, imagine if HT doesn’t want Qiu to go near JY that much, how much he must hate the idea of MGS being involved in any way. I’m sure seeing MGS getting on that bike with such oblivious enthusiasm spiked his worry-meter and those kinds of feelings often come across as annoyance. That’s why he glared at Qiu with such a gloomy face. That’s why he manhandled MGS off the bike and away from Qiu. Not because of jealousy, but because he was worried.

But like I said earlier, I don’t think we can completely exclude HT’s possessiveness in this case either which is where the bike comes along.

“like mo wants ride w/ qiu not go with he tian??”

I think the bike played some role in HT’s reaction even if I strongly doubt it was the main reason. This might sound like I’m going back on what I said earlier but the way MGS was blown away by the bike might have, in fact, made HT jealous. But not in the romantic sense.

HT has been surrounded by wealth his whole life, and I’m sure things and stuff have often been substitutes for [parental] love and affection in his childhood. If you had lot of money and physical posessions, you must be happy.

All the money and resources of his family represent something bad for HT. It’s dirty because it’s mostly likely earned by doing something illegal and hurting other people, and HT would rather have no part in any of it. But at the same time, it’s something he can’t really get away from; he’s a midle schooler and can’t support himself. As much as he probably despises it, he’s living off the money that makes him uncomfortable. Not to mention being dependent on his family’s money doesn’t really contribute to his efforts to distance himself from them and their world.

So, he’s doing the next best thing with it: he uses the money, resources, and connections to do something good. He helps MGS to get oddjobs and goes overboard with his gifts for MGS. The feeling he gets out of that must be pretty amazing. Spending money and recources on MGS is HT’s way of showing his affection and convince him of the sincerity of his feelings (whether they are romantic or platonic). Again, HT is a man of actions, not necessarily words (even though he certainly can confess his feelings verbally, too, but those tend to be rather grand as well).

So far, MGS has pretty much rejected HT’s gifts (not counting the earrings, of course) and favors that would make him owe HT. If MGS wants something, he’d rather earn it himself than allow HT to get it for him. Also, in his mind, HT is an idiot for spending money on stupid, expensive things.

We haven’t seen MGS react to anything the way he was drawn to Qiu’s bike with a childlike excitement. Nothing HT had offered to get MGS certainly hadn’t evoked such reactions. And because of that it’s very possible HT could have been jealous. He doesn’t want MGS to act like that with someone else, much less with Qiu of all people. If MGS is making that kind of face, it has to be because of something HT did.

But I want to stress this again: it’s not romantic per se. I think it was this kind of jealousy what people were referring to instead of shipping MGS and Qiu, and people who were against the idea were misunderstanding them somewhat on purpose.

It’s a bit complicated to explain how I see it in my head but I hope this gave you some kind of idea. Thank you for your question

#mo guan shan #He Tian #Brother Qiu #19 days #tianshan #answered ask

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sailorshadzter · 4 years

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Absolutely love your Jonsa prompts. Can I requst for one where Jon comes back with Dany to WF only to hear how Sansa has either take on a lover (this is fake obvs and is just a misunderstanding) and gets super jelly at any guy talking to her. Would be really great if they end up having hot sexy times at the end. Sorry but possessive Jon is my jam LOL. Thanks and keep up the lovely work.

this has been in my inbox for a while, so sorry for the wait anon!

i actually had started it last week, but my hand injury got in the way! i hope you enjoy it & that its worth the wait!

send me prompts

He hates that he's jealous, but he can't help it. He can't stop it.

It's been three days since his return from Dragonstone with Daenerys and while he should be focused on the important things (white walkers, the Night King, the impending war for the Iron Throne, are the first things that come to mind) and yet, all he can think about is the rumor he's been told.

Jon knows he has no right to be angry, to be upset, but he can't help it. He can't stop the anger that floods through him when he thinks of her on the arm of another man. He can't even begin to think about what it would mean if she found another man- he's been gone all these weeks, he supposes he can't blame her, and yet... He's jealous. He's angry. He wants her all to himself and with the damned dragon queen always on his arm, he's barely been able to share even a private moment with Sansa. And the one moment they did have together, they argued. Jon can't blame her for that, either, he knows what this looks like to the outside world.

Standing out on the battlements, Jon sighs, the air escaping him in a cloud of white. It's grown even colder in the few days since his return, the snows that fall blanket the frozen wasteland that has become the North. Down below comes the call of the men as they work tirelessly to prepare Winterfell for the battle that is to come any day. They dig trenches that they will fill with oil to set ablaze, to keep the walkers away from the castle walls. They train relentlessly in the field behind Winterfell, preparing for the battle they must soon face. Boys as young as twelve fight with swords in their small hands, while the girls gather in chambers to sew leather to the armor, to prepare healing herbs at the instruction of the maesters. They all have a part to play and at the moment, Jon is the only one avoiding his.

His attention is momentairly diverted by catching sight of that vivid red hair he loves so much. Sansa walks through the courtyard on the arm of a tall, young man he knows to be Harry Hardyng from the Vale. They make a handsome couple, or so everyone says, and a tremor of jealousy flows through him when he sees Sansa lean in and laugh at something Harry is saying. Jon has heard through the servants that Harrold Hardyng came to Winterfell just after his own departure for Dragonstone. He also knows that Sansa had briefly met the man in the Vale, before her marriage to Ramsay Bolton.

He watches as they stroll the rest of the way through the courtyard and up the steps and out of sight back inside Winterfell. He stares for several long moments at where she had once stood until finally he pries himself from the railing and heads down the walkway and down the stairs until he too stands in the courtyard, among the men where he belongs.

[ x x x ]

The knock on his door comes as a surprise.

It's late, so late that the rest of the palace surely must sleep, though Jon remains awake in his chambers in front of the hearth. Ghost raises his head from his paws, a short bark of recognition escaping him at the sound of the knock. He knows at once who will be there at his door and when he crosses the room to open the door, his heart is beating wildly in his chest. "Sansa." He greets at the sight of her there in his doorway, still fully dressed in her black gown, though her hair tumbles down her back, free from its usual braids.

He steps back, allowing her inside, and at once Ghost is beside her, begging for pets and attention. She sinks low enough to wrap her arms around his shaggy neck and Jon can't help but to smile at the sight. He would give anything in the world to keep this moment forever, to freeze time and just watch her with Ghost, a smile on her rosy lips. "You've been avoiding me." She speaks suddenly, rising up from the floor as she turns to pin him with her sapphire gaze. He chokes, sputtering over denial, shaking his head. "You have been." She confirms, brushing a stray lock of red hair from her face; Jon's fingers twitch, he longs to run them through the silken strands.

"You've been busy," he quips back, unable to stop himself. The familiar sensation of jealousy twists in his stomach as she takes a step closer to him and he wonders if she's just come from seeing him.

She laughs, a cold, hardened sound that doesn't match her. "Yes, so busy with running the kingdom you've given away." Yes, there's that anger of hers again. He knows he deserves it. He knows she owes him a lot more than her angry words. "Do you avoid me because you love her?" He's heard this question before- or something that had meant the same thing. He recalls the last private meeting they'd had, when she had asked him if he'd bent the knee for the North or for love. He hadn't had the chance to answer her, they had been interrupted, but he longs to tell her the truth. He longs to tell her the words he's felt in his heart since those days so long ago at Castle Black. Wrong or not, Jon knows what he feels for her goes beyond the love of a brother. "Or does she tell you to? Does your queen command you to stray from your family?" She can't stop the last words that fall from her lips, her anger and jealousy spilling over in one final question.

"You seem quite preoccupied with your own affairs," Jon snaps, unable to stop himself, though he regrets the words once they've fallen from his lips. Sansa blinks, her mouth falling open only to close again, surprise written all over her face. "Harrold Hardyng seems to be the center of your attention these days." She doesn't speak, but her eyes narrow in anger, her mouth a thin line as she takes a single step closer to where he stands. They are mere inches apart now.

"Are you jealous?" She asks, her voice a whisper of smoke, her eyes suddenly smoldering in a way he's never seen before. "Does it bother you to see me upon the arm of another man?" She can't help but to smirk when Jon tightens his jaw, a fist clenching into a fist at his side, both obvious signs of the truth. She supposes she should be happier, knowing Jon was indeed jealous, giving her a little bit more proof that Jon was smarter than he let on. That him giving up the North had been for more than just a pretty Targaryen queen. "Do you imagine what they whisper of us?" Sansa knows the rumors of her and Harry, though she laughs about them, knowing how far from truth they are. There's no man she thinks of besides the one that stands in front of her. She's leaning in, closer now, her lips hovering just a hairsbreadth over his. "In your rooms, late at night... Do you imagine me with him?" He imagines a whole lot more than that.

Jon sucks in a breath, hyper aware of the tightness of his breeches, of the fire seeping into his blood. Does she even know what she does to him? His hands are in her hair now, unable to stop himself from touching her, feeling her. She's warm, warmer than any fire, than any fur cloak. "I imagine you with me," he rasps, his words bringing a chuckle from her lips. "I know it's wrong, Sansa but I..." She silences him with a kiss.

It's a long kiss, a warm kiss, a passionate one. One of his hands stays tangled in her long red locks while the other traces the outline of her body until it reaches her hip, snaking around to press into the small of her back. "I imagine me with you, too," she whispers when she breaks the kiss, somewhat breathless as she smiles. "But I thought..."

I thought you loved her... I thought we could never be.

The unspoken words settle between them and Jon tugs her in close. "There's no one but you." He speaks honestly, truthfully, saying the words he knew he should have said before. Jon pulls back so he might look her in the face, the hand that was once tangled in her hair now cupping her cheek. For a long moment, there is silence, but there are no words that need to be said right now. Jon leans in to capture her mouth with his, a soft kiss that weakens her knees and warms her cheeks.

When he breaks the kiss, she speaks, soft words that echo in his spinning mind. "I don't want to imagine anymore, Jon." Those are the only words he's needed to hear. He's kissing her again, a deeper kiss, and her response is to grab a fistful of his shirt, tugging him closer. Her tongue meets with his in the most delicious of ways and Jon trails his other hand along her body, relishing in her soft curves and warm skin he can feel between the layers of her clothes. She lets out the most arousing whimper when he pulls back, though this time its to take her by the hand and lead her towards his bed.

Undressing her is a slow process- mostly for her sake, but partly for his own. He wants to savor every moment with her as much as he wants her to feel comfortable in anything that they do. She turns her back to him, giving him access to the laces of her gown, which he slowly unlaces while she glances at him over a shoulder. When she turns back around, the gown slips over her shoulders, revealing to him the expanse of her milky white shoulders. Inch by inch, she lets the gown slide from her body until its a puddle of cloth at her feet. Standing there in just her chemise, she blushes beneath his gaze, uncertain and shy in a moment such as this, which was just as enticing to him as her previous confidence had been.

Once again he takes her by the hand and draws her down onto the bed, following after her only once he's shed his shirt to the floor, where it joins her discarded gown. She lays against his pillow, red hair a fan beneath her head, blue eyes staring up at him as she smiles. Jon knows he loves her so beyond anything in this world, he knows he would do anything for her. Anything. Leaning over her, he captures her mouth and hopes, prays, wishes, that every unspoken thing between them is understood with that single kiss. Drawing back several moments later, her blue eyes are dark and damp, telling him that his message had reached her.

This time when he kisses her, he doesn't intend to stop.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #anon asks #writing prompt #i wrote this #my writing

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mamaskillerqueen · 5 years

Text

Don’t Go Away... Please || Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

A/N: I don’t know, y’all. I don’t know. This is from a prompt that I just felt like writing about and I kind of hate it but I don’t. Like I said, I don’t know. Warnings: Cursing, mentions of a creepy ex/stalker/fuck buddy. And, as always, shitty writing... weeeooo! Word Count: 2,440 Prompt: “You guys go on without me.”

Why had you decided to come?

This was such a stupid idea.

You watched as Joe did his best “Have ya met Ben?” for the ten thousandth time in the last hour.

Okay, maybe you were exaggerating.

It felt like ten thousand times though, as you sat idly at the bar, nursing the same drink you’ve had since you first arrived. Almost the minute you got to the club, you were left alone. Joe had latched onto Ben’s arm and began pulling him into the crowd, Lucy had dragged Rami out to dance, and Gwil had given your shoulder a squeeze as he and his fiancé said their goodbyes for the evening.

What you should have done, was follow them out of the club and gone home. You weren’t the sharpest crayon in the box though. Or maybe you enjoyed torturing yourself by watching the scene unfold before you as girls flung themselves at Ben’s feet.

You would never admit it... at least out loud, but you were stupidly in love. It wasn’t a “love at first sight” kind of deal. In fact, when you first met him, you were determined to not feel a thing. Of course he was attractive, any one with eyes could see that. That was precisely the reason you had been so determined. He was just another guy, one who had openly admitted to hating how people saw him for only his looks. As Joe’s best friend, you felt it necessary to not drool all over his other best friend.

You had done so well. Everything was going great, you had been successful in just treating Ben like he was any other person. A great friendship blossomed out of that. Even when he was in England there was hardly ever a lapse in your conversations. Phone calls were frequent, often finding yourself in the grocery store with the phone pressed to your ear. Texting was even more so, mostly stupid gifs you both found funny. It was when you found yourself going through a messy breakup - of sorts, for lack of a better term - that you found yourself thinking of Ben as more.

You definitely wouldn’t say your heart was shattered, far from it. This had been exactly what you wanted, it was why you ended it. Or tried, at least.

What had started out as a casual sex fling turned into an obsession. You had come home from work, shoving your heavy apartment door open with your shoulder while carrying bags of groceries and your phone pressed to your ear. Ben was blabbering on about his latest audition that was somewhere exciting in the world when you spotted all of the boxes stacked in your living room.

“Ben... I think, uhm, I’m gonna need to call you back.”

He hadn’t gotten a word in before you were hanging up and dropping the things onto your table. You looked down at the keys in your hand, remembering having to slide the key into the lock to open it. You also remembered locking up before you left. And, you most definitely didn’t remember boxes being stacked in your living room this morning. The door to your bedroom swung open to reveal your fuck-buddy in all of his naked glory. He was very clearly ready to welcome you home with a quick dance between the sheets but you were far from interested at the moment.

“How the fuck did you get in here?”

After quite a bit of yelling - on your part, you finally got him to admit to stealing your key one night and having a copy made. The boxes were most of his belongings. He was moving in. When you insisted that wasn’t what was happening things got a bit... hairy. You found yourself sleeping on Joe’s couch that night, more than grateful he was your neighbour. The cops had to come physically remove the man from your apartment the next morning, along with his things. The super changed your locks the following day. Disaster avoided.

Or so you thought.

Apparently breaking and entering isn’t a huge deal. Neither is stalking. Because almost two weeks later, you came home to the exact same situation. Only this time, as you pounded on Joe’s door, screaming for him to let you in dammit, Ben was the one to pull the door open. You had no idea he was in town and for a moment you forgot about the disaster that awaited you in your apartment. A squeal of excitement left your lips in the form of “Benny!” before you jumped into his arms for a bear hug. You could feel the rumble of laughter in his chest before he put you down and raised a brow. He asked you what you were doing here and as you relayed the long story to him in the door way, his face set into stone.

What surprised you the most was when his arm slung around your neck, pulling you tightly into his side as he strutted you both back across the hall to your apartment. Ben’s a big buy, a bit intimidating too. It wasn’t long before he had the crazy guy locking himself into your bedroom. As instructed, you’d call the police again (a second time that day about the same incident). When they finally arrived and dragged him out, Ben insisted on staying with you. Joe was working on a photoshoot all evening and wouldn’t be back until late, anyways. There wasn’t much room for the both of you to crash on his couch, so Ben insisted on staying on yours.

It was nice, getting to sleep in your own bed without fear of someone busting in. Even if they did, Ben was on your couch to make sure you were safe. It had been a long evening of cooking and watching movies. As you got comfy in your bed you realised that you had never had someone be as caring and kind in the way Ben had been that night. You also realised that he had done a wonderful job in making you laugh, and forget about the crazy guy who insisted he was going to live with you. He’d always been great at making a shit show of a day better. Even when he was an ocean away.

That was when it clicked. Ever since you came to the understanding that you were in love with Ben, you couldn’t unsee it. The small little gestures he did that no guy in your past ever had, like when you’d go out for food and he always picked your favourite spot because he knew you wanted to go without you even having to say so. Or how he’d call and ask about your day, even though his was far more exciting. They were small things but a lot of the time it made it hard to not think that maybe he felt the same way.

And then you come out with them tonight just to watch Joe drag him through the club trying to pick up girls.

The beginning of the evening had been great. Dinner with the cast as they finally got to be in the same place at the same time. Joe had introduced you to his little family on multiple occasions and so you were always excited to see any of them. When they asked you to join them, you’d been more than happy to accept. If you had known tonight would end like this, you wouldn’t have bothered.

You noticed your two best friends making their way towards you, probably for more beer. With a huffed sigh you downed the last of your Guinness and placed the glass back on the bar.

“Y/N!”

They yelled in unison and immediately burst into laughter, claiming they owed each other a coke. Despite yourself, you grinned with a shake of your head. They were such idiots but you loved them both. Maybe differently but still...

“I think I’m gonna head out.”

You were tired of watching their weird episode remake of How I Met Your Mother and just wanted to go home. There were a million new horrible romcoms on Netflix that were calling your name. Not to mention the pint of mint chip buried at the bottoms of your freezer. Tonight you would wallow, and tomorrow you’d be fine again. Tomorrow there would be no feelings for Ben, and you could go back to being best friends. It would be great...

“Nooo, come dance with us! We’re gonna find Lucy and Rami,” Joe declared, clearly feeling the alcohol already.

“You guys go on without me.”

Sliding off your bar stool, you leaned in and kissed Joe’s cheek before patting Ben’s chest as you walked by both of them. You had called a goodbye over your shoulder but with how loud the music was, you were sure that neither of them heard you.

Once the door opened and you were thrust into the bitter chill of the New York evening you sighed. Fresh air, if you could call it that - this was New York City - had been needed. You pulled your jacket a little tighter around yourself and then started down the sidewalk. It was cold but for some reason you felt a walk home was better than climbing into a taxi. Not to mention, it was so much faster to walk... even in heels.

The sound of rushed foot steps started your way and so you shimmied closer to the buildings, getting out of the way of the person in a hurry. It wasn’t until the foot steps slowed and fell in line with your own that you looked up. Your brow furrowed when your eyes came in contact with familiar emerald ones.

“Did you really think I was going to let you walk home alone?”

Ben the over-protector. You only offered him a small smile, amusement clear in your eyes. It was almost a knee jerk reaction, one you regretted as soon as the words left your lips.

“Don’t you have a million girls back there to choose from that you can take home? I’m sure that will end far more exciting for you than this will.”

Was that... bitterness and jealousy? You’re damn right. Did you hate it? Absolutely. Luckily for you, Ben didn’t seem to notice. And if he did, he didn’t care to say so.

“Maybe but the only girl I actually care about getting home safely is you.”

That sounded terrible, as if he didn’t care if those other women made it home safely but, you knew him. You knew that wasn’t what he meant at all. He was just… reassuring you. Which was weird, right?

Trying your best to keep up the appearance of being fine, you bumped your shoulder into his with a faint smirk on your lips.

“How sweet? Mister Ben Jones, an actual knight in shining armour not caring about other women’s safety since 2019.”

He laughed and you wished you could have a full album to listen to that laugh forever.

“You know that’s not how I meant it.”

He was right, you did know that. It wouldn’t have been like you to not make a joke of it though. The amusement dissipated rather quickly though and your somber mood was back. Instead of his laughing playing back in your head, you just kept hearing Joe’s wingman attempts. They would have been hilarious if you weren’t stupidly in love the man he was trying to fling at other women. Ben was the first to notice your mood, if you were honest he probably picked up on it in the club. That was why he was out here. He knew you were upset about something. The revelation only made you feel crappy for pulling him away from his friends and fun. What kind of friend does that? You really were horrible. “I can practically hear you thinking from over here,” Ben announced after who knows how long of walking. His deep voice nearly startled you, but when you looked up at him and saw clear concern in his eyes you forgot about your internal spiral. “I do that sometimes, you should try it.” You were greeted with another laugh and a shake of his head, making his carefully slicked back hair fall forward on his forehead. When his hand came up to push the unruly blonde locks back into place, you had to look away. Thankfully the rest of the walk back to your apartment building was quiet. He spoke again when you finally reach the front door of your place. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Ben. Thanks for walking me home. You really didn’t have to.”

He waved you off, shrugging his shoulders as if ditching the partying and his friends was nothing. Could your heart stop falling for him? Or... could he just stop being so... Ben? You turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, stepping inside. Just as you were about to shut the door, assuming that would be the end of your night, Ben placed his hand on the door to keep it open. With a furrowed brow you looked up at him, silently asking him what he was doing. He didn’t say a word though, just stared at you for what felt like forever before he finally took a step forward. He wasn’t even passed the threshold of your apartment but he was close enough to place both of his hands on either side of your face, and then he was leaning down. Your brain could barely process what was happening before his lips were on yours. You were frozen. Completely frozen. This wasn’t happening. You were dreaming. Clearly you had come home from the club, passed out watching horrible movies and eating ice cream. This was your brains way of coping with the disaster that was your love life. But then he was pulling away and you could see the almost mortified look on his face. He was sputtering something, apologies probably if his bright red face was any indication. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears, you couldn’t actually hear him. When he turned to start walking away, you came back to reality. You caught his wrist just before he reached Joe’s apartment door. He turned, apologies once again poised on his lips but you didn’t give him the chance. You surged up onto your toes and pressed your lips to his. Luckily for you, he was much quicker on the uptake than you. Maybe tonight wasn’t your worst idea.

#ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy blurbs #ben hardy #i wrote a thing #enjoy #idk how to tag this

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theotherace · 4 years

Text

Another Traveller

[111 AG]

[Somewhere in the Earth Kingdom]

Toph never had been the most open of people.

She very rarely told him she loved him with quite so many words – or any words at all, really, as she much preferred to squeeze his hand two times, step a little closer, actually hug him despite other people being close by, and it had bothered him, in the beginning of their relationship, that he got only her fingers brushing against his for every proclamation of love, her fist against his shoulder for every whispered compliment, though he'd known, of course, that she wasn't one for openly showing affection.

He'd just assumed it would be different once he was her boyfriend.

It wasn't, and they'd argued about it – their first real fight as a couple – and he hadn't stormed off like he was wont to do, but she had been very tempted to, she'd told him later, mumbled it into his shirt, because it hurt, having him accuse her of not loving him as much as he loved her, and not everyone expressed themselves like he did, he should know that by now.

So Aang made an effort to understand her more quiet love and Toph tried to actually say 'I love you' once in a while, and that had worked fine for them the last two years, they had been fine, they were fine.

He snuck a glance at her, for a moment distracted from freeing Appa of his saddle by the thoughtful expression on her pale face, the flickering shadows the bonfire cast on it.

She'd been more closed off than usual these past few days, and it troubled him greatly, that he had no idea what had let to this shift in her mood – all he knew was that she had gotten up during meditation one morning, which wasn't surprising in and on itself; he'd just assumed she'd gotten bored.

It had happened before.

But then she hadn't turned up again for almost three hours, and he hadn't been able to find her anywhere during that time, and he didn't like any of this, because she still wouldn't tell him what was going on.

Appa grumbled happily when the saddle hit the ground.

"You done?", Toph asked.

He turned his head, hand still resting on Appa's warm flank, fingers tangled in his soft, soft fur, and watched her stir their dinner with very little enthusiasm – she didn't enjoy cooking on the best of days and today was evidently not one of those.

The sun was slowly disappearing behind the horizon, the world tinted orange and red, and Momo was curled up on Appa's head and Appa was chewing grass and Toph looked as pensive and tense as she had for days now, with her shoulders stiff and her knees drawn to her chest.

"Yeah. How's the rice?"

"Doesn't smell burned yet", she shrugged.

"That's always good", he replied and tried to grin, even if she couldn't see it; she'd once told him she could hear him pulling a face and though he wasn't entirely sure how true that was – he certainly couldn't hear a difference –, he had come to expect the unexpected from her.

He plopped down next to her after giving Appa a last pat and peered into the pot hanging over the fire.

She fiddled with the wooden spoon she'd used to stir the rice.

"I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Oh?"

He perked up at her tone – and the words alone made his heart beat a little more hopeful, because he usually knew what was going on in her head, she wasn't afraid of letting him know what bothered her, and he didn't want that to change.

"I'm all ears."

"Always have been", she sighed and he almost smiled again at the halfhearted joke, because she hadn't cracked one of those for a while; she continued before he could: "How'd you feel about someone travelling with us again? I know it's been mostly just the two of us for ... well, almost seven years now, but ... yeah. How'd you feel about that?"

That was what this was about?

He was a little confused.

"Depends, I guess ... I mean, it's not like we never had anybody join us before."

"This would be permanent, though. Like, ... really permanent."

She twirled the spoon between her fingers.

It was nice having someone with them from time to time – Katara had travelled with them last year, because they'd been on their way to the North Pole (which Toph had hated, she hadn't even liked the Spirit Oasis) and she'd planned on recruiting new students up there, and a few years before that, Sokka had joined them for a while because they'd gotten word of a Magical Spirit Sword stuck in a stone that matched Space Sword's description (and they'd cheated to get it back and the villagers hadn't been happy with them), though they hadn't yet been a couple back then, he supposed.

Having them with them had been nice, almost like old times again.

Travelling with Teo when he was still Toph's boyfriend, on the other hand, hadn't been a pleasent experience at all, which had been mostly his own fault, if he was being honest. He'd handled his crush on Toph and the jealousy that came with seeing her and Teo together pretty badly.

Pretty immaturely.

(And he'd apoligized for being an idiot to both of them, multiple times; if Teo ever wanted to go anywhere, he'd just have to ask, because he honestly owed him that.)

Then again, she'd said this person would be joining them permanently and he wasn't too sure if he'd be happy about any of their friends doing that – a month or two were fine, but ... forever was a different matter entirely.

Most of the time, he quite enjoyed travelling with Toph alone.

And he couldn't imagine anybody they knew wanting to do that, either.

So he only really had one question: "Well, who is it?"

Toph bit her lip.

"Not quite sure yet. But ... I mean, ... hopefully they're gonna be a lot like you."

He blinked.

"... What?"

"Spirits, I'm bad at this", she groaned and stood up, dragged her free hand through hair that was down and loose for once. "So ... fucking bad. I've been thinking about how to say this for days and this is how it comes out. I'm sorry."

"I'm not sure I understand what you're talking about."

She sighed.

"I'm pregnant."

For a moment, his mind stood completely still and with it the world.

Because they hadn't planned this, and he hadn't expected this, and his heart was beating in his ears, and though a part of him couldn't help but think and feel and know that this was still the best news he'd received in possibly forever, Toph looked so very worried and he didn't know if he could be entirely happy about this if she wasn't.

He jumped to his feet.

He was going to be a father.

He struggled to form any thought beyond that.

Toph started pacing.

"A baby, huh?", was what finally left his mouth and he wanted to kick himself, because that was probably one of the least assuring things to say in this situation and she furrowed her brow, so he added: "That's brilliant!"

She shrugged.

"Is it?"

"... Is it not?"

"I don't know!"

She threw her arms up in helpless exasperation, and he ducked the spoon she was still holding before it could make contact with his face.

"I've ... This is terrifying. We've never properly talked about this, it was always 'maybe later', but now there's no later anymore, there's just now, and I don't know if I'm ready for this, Aang, but that doesn't really matter anymore, does it? I don't know anything about pregnancy or about children and how are we having a child before Katara, doesn't that feel wrong to you?"

Aang took a careful step and grabbed her wrist to pull the cooking utensil from her fingers and drop it, then wrapped his arms around her tightly.

She sagged against his chest after a heartbeat or two.

Her hair tickled his chin.

"Don't you find this scary at all?", she asked in a small voice.

And she felt very small, too, tiny in his embrace; sometimes, it was easy to forget that she couldn't reach his chin on tiptoes, because her presence would fill a room easily and that was one of the things he loved about her.

"It is scary", he admitted after a moment. "Very scary, actually. But ... Sokka once told me he thinks nobody's ever ready to be a Dad and that he sure wasn't, and look at how awesome of a father he's now ... I'm assuming the same's true for mothers. And we did a lot of scary things, but we're still here, aren't we? We managed, we always do, because you refuse to back down from a challenge and what can I say, you've kinda been rubbing off on me these past few years. You taught me earthbending, you invented metalbending, we ended this war together ... Well, ... not just the two of us, obviously, but ... I think you know what I mean. I don't doubt at all that you'll be great at this, too. You're great with Sesi and Little Iroh. Gan adores you."

"Gan's supposed to adore me", she muttered, "he's my brother. And Little Iroh and Sesi we see maybe twice a year. And then they're always more excited to see you!"

"That's just because I can take them flying."

She continued like he hadn't spoken: "They're not my kids, either. I'm not responsible for any of them, I've never been responsible for anyone but myself, and I just ... Babies can do literally nothing on their own! He's gonna be entirely dependent on me and-"

"We're a team", he interrupted softly. "You can't possibly think I'd leave you alone with this. I'd never! Whatever you want to do now, I'll be by your side. You know that. Right?"

"I ... Of course I do, Aang."

Toph sighed again and tried to take a step back, so he let go of her, if a little unwillingly.

"But a baby changes ... everything. My body and our relationship and the life we've built over the last ... well, seven years, really, because that's how long it's been just the two of us, Appa and Momo. My parents will want us to get married and maybe we should do that, I don't know. Suki and Sokka got married because they were having Sesi and they're doing fine, right? I think they are ... But what if they're not? What if we won't be? What if this ruins everything? What if, in the end, we won't even have a baby – Mom lost two children between Gan and me and one before me, and then I was so sickly, they weren't sure I'd even make it for almost half a year. What if I'm like her? What if this kid's gonna be like me?"

She took a deep breath, and he opened his mouth, then closed it again, wordlessly, because he understood now why she had been so quiet, if this was what she had been thinking about for the last three days.

"If our child's anything like you", he said slowly, "then they're going to be absolutely fine. Because you're a fighter and you made it, you're still here. And if you start feeling like anything's wrong, you tell me immediatly and I'll get you to a healer. In fact, maybe we should find you a healer anyway? To check if everything's fine? That's what you do, right?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

She tugged on her hair.

She sounded tired.

He wanted to hug her again, but he wasn't sure how much she'd appreciate that right now – she'd stepped away from him, after all –, and so he hurried to continue: " And I understand that you're scared and ... and why you're scared and ... I ... I ... I want to make it better, but ... I ... Spirits, I'm sorry. I really, really am. I don't know what to say to make this better, I don't even know if there is any making this better, because ... these things did happen to your Mom and ... I don't know how likely they are to happen to you and ... Tell me what I can do ... and I'll do it."

Aang pulled his shoulders up helplessly and froze in surprise for just a second when her arms were suddenly around his chest again, maybe just a little too tightly, and her face was hidden in his robes, buried in the dark green fabric, and he returned the hug with all his might.

The sun and all its light had almost completely vanished now.

"I love you", Toph said quietly.

"I love you, too", he mumbled and kissed her head.

(ao3)

#Avatar: The Last Airbender #Aang #Toph Beifong #Taang #Fanfic #AU #Not Canon Compliant #Avatar: The Legend of Aang #Pregnancy #This Came Out Very Differently Than It Was Supposed To #But #Meh #Also #Toph Has A Little Brother In This AU #Born After The War #Mostly Because I Can

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bestillmyslashyheart · 5 years

Text

Your Cowboy

Alex’s laugh caught in his throat. It should be funny, it really should.

And yet.

Michael turned to him, cocky smirk firmly in place as he canted his head at just the right angle to catch the fading sun.

“Well fuck me sideways Cowboy.” Alex’s voice was barely more than a breath but the wide grin spreading across Michael’s face told him he’d been loud enough.

“That can be arranged.”

Alex groaned. “No, that wasn’t a request. I’m too sore.”

Michael smirked and swaggered over to him, the damn hat looking criminally good on him. “I told you the hat looked good,” he reminded Alex.

Alex bit his lip to hold back his retort. It was true, when Michael had first told him weeks ago that he’d bought a cowboy hat, Alex had laughed at him. Michael’s only defense was that it looked damn good on him and Alex would love it when he saw it.

He wasn’t wrong.

Michael bent over Alex, his hands braced on the arms of Alex’s chair. “You like it, admit it.”

Alex shook his head. “I admit nothing.”

Michael grinned and stood up, adjusting the hat to somehow look even better. Alex barely held back a moan. He reached for Michael only for him to dance out of reach. “Nuh uh,” he protested. “Admit it.”

Alex thought about denying it but really, who was he trying to kid? “Come over here, Cowboy,” he demanded.

Michael eyed him but slowly meandered over. “You calling me Cowboy because I look good in a cowboy hat?” He questioned teasingly.

Alex rolled his eyes. “No. It’s because you look damn good in a cowboy hat. Now get over here.”

Michael grinned and stepped into Alex’s grasp. “Whatever you say, darlin’.” Alex ignored the pet name for now and hooked a hand inside that obnoxious belt buckle and reeled him in all the way. He tilted his head to the side to avoid the hat and pulled Michael in for a kiss.

---

Alex didn’t bother reading the Caller ID when he answered the phone. “Who the fuck do you think you are calling at this hour?”

There was a low chuckle on the other end. “Well good morning to you too, darlin’.”

Alex relaxed back into his bed, the tension seeping out of him at the sound of Michael’s voice. And it was all Michael’s voice, the damn pet name had nothing to do with it. He swears. “Hey Cowboy. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

They texted, sure, but in the four years since Alex joined the Air Force, he wasn’t sure they’d actually spoken on the phone more than twice. “Just returning your call. Calls, I should say.”

Alex’s eyes cracked open. “What calls?”

There was that chuckle again. “The fourteen phone calls I got last night? I particularly enjoyed the messages, if I do say so myself. I didn’t know you could make Cowboy sound that dirty, I’m impressed really.” Michael paused. “You getting a lot of practice with that?”

Alex was more focused on the revelation that he’d drunk dialed Michael fourteen times last night than he was on the jealousy in his voice. So he didn’t even think when he replied, “You know you’re the only Cowboy in my life, Guerin.”

“Oh yeah?” Michael sounded pleased.

“Yeah,” Alex replied almost absently as he shifted around. “Fourteen times, really?”

Michael hummed. “The last couple were mostly incoherent, though.” He paused. “Fun night?”

Alex groaned. “Williams’ 21st birthday.”

Michael whistled lowly. Alex hummed in agreement. “You working?”

“Hell no,” Alex denied. “Got today and tomorrow off after covering for some guys last week.”

“Lucky you.”

Alex made some noncommittal noise before falling quiet. Neither said a word for a long while, enjoying the quiet sounds of listening to each other’s breathing.

There was a loud banging on his door shortly before it swung open. Patrick leaned heavily on the doorframe. “I fucking hate you Manes.”

Alex raised an eyebrow.

“I have to go to the base,” Patrick ground out, his eyes barely open.

Alex smirked. “Have fun with that.”

“With what?” Michael asked through the phone.

“Not you,” Alex assured him before turning back to Patrick who now had a smirk of his own.

“Is that Michael?” He asked.

Alex nodded slowly and Patrick crossed the room to flop down next to him on the bed. Without asking, he ripped the phone from Alex’s hand and pressed it to his own ear.

“Tell me he actually left those messages,” he asked.

Alex didn’t hear Michael’s response but Patrick’s cackling started to worry him.

“Oh man,” Patrick sighed. “That was great.”

And ok, that was enough. Alex tore the phone from Patrick’s hand and shoved at him with his other until Patrick rolled off the bed.

“What exactly did I say in those messages?” He asked Michael.

Michael laughed. “I’ll save them and let you listen next time you’re here,” he promised.

“In the meantime, I’m gonna have to put up with everyone who heard me leave them.”

“There was nothing bad, I promise,” Michael assured him. “But you did get a little sappy as the night went on. And horny.”

Alex closed his eyes. “Fuck.”

“Don’t worry about it too much, darlin’. I’m sure most of them were too drunk to remember, anyway.”

“In case he doesn’t mention it,” Patrick told him from the doorway, “you asked if you could save a horse every time you rode him and if yes then you were planning to save a lot of horses.”

“Oh my god.”

“This is why you shouldn’t date Cowboys,” Patrick ‘advised’. Alex threw a pillow at him.

When he finally left, Alex turned back to the phone. “Ok, I’m going to sleep for the next 12 hours or so and when I wake up this will all have been a nightmare.”

Michael laughed softly. “Sweet dreams, darlin’.”

“Night, Cowboy.”

---

He shouldn’t be here. He knew he shouldn’t. In the week he’d been in town, he’d done a damn good job of avoiding Michael and anywhere he knew Michael might be. So why he was sitting at the bar in the Wild Pony on Friday night when he knew from both Michael and Maria that Michael was a staple here on Friday nights, he didn’t know.

They were done. Over. Finished.

Or at least that’s what they’d said on the phone. Loudly. Repeatedly.

Alex wasn’t even sure where it went wrong. Everything was fine and then within a month they could barely speak without fighting and then Michael called and canceled a trip to come see him at the last minute and they’d both lost it.

That was six months ago.

Six months without any contact and Alex was like a man dying of thirst in the desert presented with a fucking waterfall and told not to drink. How could he possibly resist?

So he was at the Pony. He’d been warming a seat at the bar for almost two hours now, long enough that Maria had checked on him twice, but he still hadn’t seen Michael. He thought about leaving, about sucking it up and just going out to the trailer, when Michael walked in.

Michael and that fucking hat.

Alex had to admit, when Michael had first gotten it, Alex was sure it would just be a fad. Something he wore for a while before he got bored of the aesthetic and moved on but no. He still wore it. And honestly, Alex couldn’t be upset about it. Michael looked good in that hat. And he knew it.

“All is right in the world,” Maria said sarcastically as Michael slid onto a free stool. “What would a Friday night be without Michael Guerin gracing my bar with his presence?” She shot him a wry look, not friendly but not unkind. “What’ll it be Cowboy?”

“Usual. And don’t call me that.” Michael’s voice was tired, like he was weary and not from a long day of work.

Maria raised an eyebrow. “You’re rocking the whole cowboy look but you don’t want to be called Cowboy?” She huffed. “Oookay.” She turned to get Michael his drink and Alex fled.

He wanted to say he didn’t know why he fled but he did. Cowboy was his name for Michael, dammit. The idea that he didn’t let anyone else call him that warmed something in Alex that he’d thought was lost.

Alex found Michael’s truck easily enough in the parking lot and scribbled a note on a receipt he found on the floorboard.

I’m at the Airstream

And then he left. He drove out to Foster Ranch and let himself into Michael’s home and sprawled out as best he could on Michael’s tiny bed.

It was hours before he heard the sound of Michael’s truck. Hours where he could think about what to say to fix this mess they’d somehow created.

When he stepped out of the trailer to greet Michael, everything he’d planned just flew out of his head. Michael walked towards him, his gait slow and rambling.

“Hey, Cowboy,” Alex greeted softly.

Michael paused, his shoulders tensing. “Alex,” he returned. “What are you doing here?”

Alex swallowed. It had maybe been too much to hope that Michael would respond in kind but he’d gotten used to hearing darlin’ fall from Michael’s lips. His name felt almost impersonal now. “I missed you.”

Michael huffed and shook his head, his hands resting on his hips as he kicked lightly at the dirt. “You can’t have missed me that much. Took you six days to come see me.”

Alex started. “How-”

“DeLuca mentioned it last week. She was really excited that you were coming to visit. Said it had been a long time since she got to see you for a whole week.” He didn’t glare at Alex but only just.

Alex sighed. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me. Last time we-” he stopped and shook his head. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“So why now?”

“I saw you at the Pony.”

“I figured as much since that note wasn’t in my truck when I went inside.”

“No, I mean I was inside. I was at the bar when Maria called you Cowboy and you told her not to.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that have to do with anything?”

“Why don’t you want her calling you Cowboy?”

“Alex, why the hell are you here?”

“Just answer the question, Guerin.”

Michael huffed. “Because this asshole I’m in love with calls me that and I can’t stand to hear it from anyone else. Happy?”

“Yes.”

Michael paused, his mouth open to continue. “What?”

Alex laughed lightly. “Yes, that makes me happy. I like having something that’s just mine. I like that you don’t let anyone else call you Cowboy.”

“I’m confused.” Michael took the hat off to scratch his head. “You broke up with me.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “What the fuck are you talking about? You broke up with me.”

Michael eyed him. “You told me not call or text you anymore.”

“You said it was better if we didn’t see each other anymore!” Alex shouted back.

Michael stared at him. “What the fuck are you talking about? I told you I couldn’t make it that weekend a few months ago and you told me not to bother on another weekend.”

“Guerin, you called me up an hour before you were supposed to be there with a bullshit excuse about how you couldn’t make the drive-”

“My truck broke down!”

“-and then told me that it was better that way! That the driving was too much and you didn’t think it was worth it.” Alex focused on his breathing in an effort to keep the tears at bay. He’d thought he was done crying about this.

Michael didn’t say anything for a long while. “My truck is an old piece of shit that is hanging out through my sheer force of will.” Alex blinked at the non-sequitur. “The engine blew about an hour outside of Roswell and I tried to fix it as best I could so I could still make it out to you but the part I needed took a week to ship so there was no way I could have made it all the way to the base that day. When I said the driving was too much and it wasn’t worth it I meant to the truck. I was trying to suggest we meet up in the middle or maybe I could scrounge up for plane tickets because the truck can’t handle the trips anymore.”

Alex stared. “What?”

Michael huffed. “I was talking about the damn truck, Alex. Not us.”

“That-that is not how it sounded.” Alex shook his head. “Not at all.”

“Alex-”

“It sounded like I was too much of a hassle and you couldn’t be assed to try anymore.” Alex tried to glare at him but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Darlin’ you are a hassle and a pain in my ass sometimes but I’m always going to want you. I’m always going to want to try.” Michael cocked his head to the side and half looked back at his truck. “It would just be easier if I didn’t have to drive so far.”

Alex nodded slowly. “So don’t.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Are you breaking up with me again?”

“I have a new posting,” Alex revealed. “That’s why I got a week to come back here. They gave me ten days to move and I didn’t need the whole time.”

Michael took a step towards him. “Where are you being posted?”

“Altus, in Oklahoma. It’s less than six hours.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Six hours, huh? I think I could manage that.”

“Halfway would work too.”

“You willing to try again, darlin’?”

“Always, Cowboy.”

---

Michael didn’t recognize the number but he answered it anyway. He’d been on edge for a week, waiting and hoping to hear something, anything.

“Hello?” He answered tersely.

“Heeey Cowboy,” Alex’s voice was rough like he hadn’t use it much recently and he sounded high as a kite but it was undeniably Alex.

Michael sagged against the side of his truck. “You’re okay.” It wasn’t a question except for the fact that it was. A week ago there was as a news report of an Air Force unit that was attacked outside of Baghdad. Three casualties. Now, Michael wasn’t typically prone to being a worry wart but that kind of news plus a complete lack of communication from Alex did give him pause.

Ok, he’d been a nervous wreck but so what?

“I’m right as fucking rain.” Michael furrowed his brow.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. I’m okay.” Alex tried to play it off but Michael could hear the undercurrent of pain in his voice.

Michael waved goodbye to the other ranch hands as they passed and slid into the cab of his truck. “Darlin’ talk to me. What happened? Where are you? Are you still in Baghdad?”

“Nope.” Alex popped. “I’m in Germany.”

“Germany?”

Alex hummed. “It’s where the fancy hospital is.”

Michael swore his heart stopped. “Hospital? Why are you in the hospital?”

“It’s where you go when they cut half of your leg off.” Now his heart did stop.

“Alex-”

“Don’t,” Alex’s voice was suddenly sharp. “I don’t know what you’re going to say but whatever it is, I really don’t want to hear it. I just- I just want to hear your voice.”

Michael swallowed down the first five things that came to mind. He could always call Patrick later and grill him for more information. “I was working out at Foster’s today and this guy…”

He wasn’t sure what he said, really, But he talked for almost an hour, Alex making random comments occasionally, until he could hear Alex starting to nod off.

“Alex? Darlin’?”

Alex hummed.

“You coming home?”

“Yeah, Cowboy. I’m coming home. It won’t be the same, though.”

“I don’t care. I just want you here.”

“I will be. I’ll have to get out of here and do therapy and get fitted for a prosthetic but eventually I’ll be there. I promise.”

---

“You cannot be serious!” Liz laughed.

Maria shrugged. “Try it. He hates it.”

She saw Alex smile around the rim of his bottle as he pressed it to his lips and she smiled in response. It had taken months for the three of them to get back to this point. To where they all felt comfortable enough just sitting back and drinking and having fun. To being able to move past all of the lies and the secrets and the hurting each other that they’d done.

Liz leaned back in her chair until it balanced on two legs. “Yo, Cowboy!” She yelled across the bar. Michael stiffened where he was bent over the pool table lining up a shot but he didn’t turn around. “Cowboy!”

Michael still didn’t react and Alex started to laugh. Everyone in the bar knew who she was yelling at but Michael was too stubborn to acknowledge it.

Liz turned back to Maria with a huff. “He’s literally a cowboy, though! I mean he’s got the buckle, the hat, he literally worked on a ranch for years...he’s an actually fucking cowboy!”

Maria laughed. “And yet.” She spread her hands out. “He’s always hated it when people called him cowboy as like a name. Calling him a cowboy seems to be fair game but just Cowboy?” She shook her head. “He won’t answer.”

Liz shook her head, her hair swishing around her shoulders. “That’s dumb. Boys are dumb.” And ok so she’d maybe had a bit to drink. She turned to Alex. “Why is your boy dumb?”

Alex’s lips twitched like he was fighting a grin but Liz couldn’t understand why. She raised an eyebrow when he didn’t say anything.

“Alex,” she said as sternly as she could manage. “What do you know?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Maria glance between them. “What?” Maria asked, but Liz didn’t look away from Alex. He knew something, she just didn’t know what.

“Spill, Manes!”

Alex lost the battle with his lips and they spread wide in a big grin. “Hey, Cowboy!” He yelled. Liz whirled around in her chair in time to see Michael pop up and turn their way.

“What?” Michael asked with a laugh.

“What?” Maria asked, shocked.

Liz pointed at Michael and then at Alex and then back to Michael. “You didn’t answer me when I said Cowboy,” she accused as Michael walked over to them, Max trailing behind him.

“Yeah, and?” Michael slid into the seat next to Alex, his arm sliding up the back of Alex’s neck to card through his hair.

“Why?”

“I ain’t your cowboy, Elizabeth.”

Max made some kind of noise that Liz didn’t bother to decipher. “Really?” She raised an eyebrow as she turned to Alex. “He’s your cowboy?”

Alex shrugged. “It is what it is.”

Michael grinned and pressed a kiss to Alex’s cheek right, where his dimple appeared as he grinned widely. Liz barely contained her ‘aww’.

“I’ve never heard you two use pet names,” she accused. “You mocked me and Max for using ‘babe’, for chrissake.”

“That’s because babe is unoriginal.”

“And Cowboy is so unique?” Max asked, laughing. Michael shrugged. “Everyone calls you Cowboy.”

“No they don’t,” Michael denied. “They try. Once. But that’s it. Besides, Alex was first so he get exclusive rights.”

“Oh that’s why I get exclusive rights?” Alex laughed. Michael nodded and turned and whispered something in his ear that turned the tips of Alex’s ears red.

Liz rolled her eyes. “Alright, so Michael’s Cowboy, what’s Alex?”

Alex glared at Michael but Michael didn’t say anything. He just smirked and stole Alex’s beer. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” Liz denied. “I’m just curious.”

“You know curiosity killed the cat,” Alex warned.

She wagged a finger at him. “Ah but satisfaction brought it back.”

He shook his head and stood up, his hand grabbing at Michael’s collar to pull him up with him. “Unfortunately, I can’t help you with that. Thanks for a fun night out,” he waved at them with his free hand. “We’re leaving.”

Michael tossed a farewell over his shoulder as he let Alex pull him out of the bar.

#malex fic #rnm #my fic

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 5 years

Text

Uncle Donald gave her $800 in the 1980s

She let him invest it for her up until now

And she has now $45B

I hope you enjoyed your game as there are more to come but with more people as it enters TV for free of course on Channel Fox.

As always enjoy life and what it brings with the most care you can afford.

Don't let the economy, crumble, Uncle Donald, i hit up JP for some cash since Jesse stole mine from United Business Bank located in Oregon, Washington, and New Mexico.

I own Chase, bought it with Donald and sold to the US Government for a mint. Jesse could got in on this deal but he wanted to challenge me instead.

So I asked Uncle Donald for a cash loan, how much he could afford and what was in his wallet. $4000 roughly. So we split it between his 4 kids (the 4th being me) and I gave him back $200 for the rest of the day.

And we returned to the bank and I asked him how to deposit the money into Chase Manhattan because Denise had bought me clothes but I wanted to be a fashion designer and had altered them So she threw them all away in a rage of jealousy and heat.

Of course i started to cry so we went back across the street to McDonald's and we talked. He said "i have a surprise for you, lets get to the bank"

So we walked alllllll around the building, up and down and he talked to a man and got us inside all the back rooms. He said "i wanna buy it!" And he turned to me and asked "would you like to invest your $800 into my bank as an investor?"

I said "what about my clothes! She said i had to return the money or else i get none!"

"But who did she spend the money on?"

"Me and my brothers and and her!"

"Well don't you think Its time to invest in you and your fashion?" He asked for my $800 i had to pull from 4 different pockets and my sock as he taught me to split to beat pick pocketers. And handed it all. He handed me back $200 and I handed it back then he handed me a $5 from his breast pocket and t told me to keep it.

And began to walk to the counter to buy the bank.

I chased after him and put it in his left cost pocket and told him, 'well you know you bought me lunch so you keep it"

I pulled it from his pocket to produce proof I had already given it and he couldn't give it back and then stuffed it back in deep, all the way i nearly ripped his shoulder off for which I promptly apologized, jumped on the counter and rubbed his soreness off and jumped down.

And he started to cry a little bashful at first then a full sob. And I tried to console him and Robby appeared with a trailing line of toilet paper so his silk hanky wouldn't be soiled with snot.

He thanked him and became startled and asked if he wanted in on the investment.

Robby said, "i might but i need to talk to you, I belong to this boarding school ran by this might be soon white bigger as he calls himself, inspired by her and taken completely out of context"

"Michael Jackson" interjected our new found Uncle Donald. "Come let's sit"

We moved to the side of the spacious lobby to a small table accompanied by two plus club chairs.

He and i talked about how neat it would be to have chaise chairs in Chase bank.

"Well, her mom is abusive, mostly about money so i would like to take control of her stock with her permission"

"Yes! I do! And i will wanna get married!" I jumped with my fist in the air and pushed against the chair like a standing push up and stood

....

"Her sit. First I would like to talk to you as an investor. I am run by the boarding house and they teach us things like to steal and bring back to get 'rewards' much often things less than they are worth like a stick of gum for $2 when I can get a whole pack for 20 cents. Uh oh, here he comes"

"Im about to invest into this bank with these two kids you got something you wanna say to me?" Instead of waiting for a reply, uncle Donald got up and briskly walked to the counter, asking to return to a different room, promptly and away from Mr Jackson whom was still solidly black (he doesn't have vitaligo its just bleached).

And we entered a nearly empty office and he turned fiercely, angry even, "this will be your office where you will WORK"

...

"Its okay! We are still friends!" I climbed into the chair then up onto the desk "this is where I will sit"

"Well close your legs and sit like a lady, like this hand me your foot, no don't take off your shoe"

"Well I didn't want to ruin you! Your suit is NICE!!"

And he moved my foot and crossed my ankles and patted my knee and said "or you cross at here"

I took my ankle to my knee "no not like that, that's like a man. Knee to knee"

"Oh like this?" I squeezed my knees together

Robby laughed and Uncle Donald looked flustered

"Oh i know I know cross at my knees, you need to explain better!" I patted his shoulder. In the 80s it was okay to touch, at least for a child.

"I said that first!"

"Oh! I interrupt!"

"No apologize" Robby groaned

"I apologize for interrupting"

"For?" Asked Donald "you can't tell her that Because ---"

"No he could I get misinformation that way"

"Except when I'm being scolded and she knows the truth" said Robby.

Tune in next week for another Miss Adventure of one Wild Single Mom's Childhood!

I had 48 cents. Robby had put in 2500 front Hayes then 1500 each from Mark and Mike Andrews which he had not signed and they got rejected. Yet Jesse notified me of this, restricted my remote deposit privileges and now i am to notify the Sheriff of Hays County, Austin, Texas that the money is kept hidden in the tax and revenue accounts of his great county. And to open an investigation which he will pretend he did and then not. So i get his hush money as well as the other two and the $15B JP Dejoria stupidly just paid me because i Told Jesse to tell his father in law that Jesse is a stupid piece of shit which he didn't.

And of course I will invest in schools across the nation, installing playgrounds at any schools that do not have them, including intermediate, Jr high, middle, High and etc.. And may be finally lockers at least were I'm centrally located and/or where i want to be, namely at high schools at least.

Because that is what I want to do. Make people happy in the funniest ways possible.

And if there is any left I want to reinvest at the parks i originally invested in, initially, to make them better snd brighter, starting at the older to the newer.

I want the world to seem happier and brighter and in the case of schools at least around here once they hit 7th grade (middle school) they change schools to those that no longer have lockers or desks to put things in, 7 or more teachers to please instead of one or two they spend all day with, like a parent who gives love and kindness and retribution, they go through puberty which in itself is a chore. Then the kids riot. I've seen it in small schools and i know it happens in big ones. 20 in one week at the beginning of school less than a mile from my house where i can hear the school bell.

And so they need a place to sleep their weary heads like the shoulder of an old friend instead of weeping a soul they can no longer call their own.

The secrets i have included here broke my heart to where it actually stopped over and over.

Instead of asking what was wrong, Mr Moneybags Jesse sent me to the doctor alone. -.-

He could have provided me with what i needed like I provided and protected him from Ms Dejoria and Mark Hindberg, Afghanistan and Iraq, which I will no longer do.

He is the one that encouraged Michael Jackson to pickpocket the slaves he had created.

Yes Michael Jackson is Wacko, is Him and is burning in Hell because I killed him with my own pistol Jesse had stolen from a cop, altered and resold to himself at a cheaper price than the way over inflated price he created to create a deficit in his company to receive a refund from the US government's IRS Department in the amount of $8,000 instead of paying the $1M he owed.

I plead guilty before a judge and Uncle Donald, Mrs Katherine Jackson, the Anne my 4 year old daughter that Michael Jackson attempted to rape in front of me, as well as Robby, my true love and of course Sunny and Jesse James himself whom gave me the gun.

Then, before then President Barack Obama, i was exonerated and pardoned completely without the possibility of parole or any other misconceptions that would be included with self defense manslaughter.

This week total I have arrested a total of 19 men and women thanks to the CIA as an unpaid civilian.

That would guarantee me Presidentship of one really great country, now, wouldn't it?

Thanks. And not to be repeated: No more games. Only truth.

Until next time my fair weather friends!

Now! Let's grab the bookie!!! Snag! You're in jail. What did ya know, Mike Andrews, I knew all along that Mark Hindberg was FBI. Why didn't you think that?

Moving along, hi JP. How are you? No one cares. Good thing you trusted into your rapist daughter who was married to a true hero whom puts up with my shit even after we name him Mr Vomit cause I make him so scared he actually vomits like I did tonight (that's included. No more scare, only truth)

Oh yes, JP, you have already been arrested and so you know -- you have no guns with you, right? Alexis Dejoria is no rapist, she's actually an excellent FBI agent whom hates her dad and is included in any exonerations I may have to hand out butbat my leisurely pace, because she actually didn't rape anybody!

Also the US government will pay your wages as you did file a lawsuit this very week by signing up with Namus.gov like we all did.

She like me, was an unpaid civilian whom ran into luck. While she's smart, she's not smart like me. Thus she's the FBI vs me who is CIA and can work against the world in a millisecond as i usually do and have in Afghanistan and Iraq where i protected many NHRA members during their tours in the US Military while they served with Jesse James and my little brother and were even kidnapped thanks to Matt Hagan's temper tantrum and Jesse James refusal to listen to command. Eventually I saved them from that too in a day and 6 hours after leaving base. They were involuntary bound and gagged and beaten within 20 minutes of their capture. Within the next 20 when I was finally told of their status they were rescued by Tony Schumacher and his team.

And now i have saved the NHRA from being beaten and raped and tortured. My time to continue here at home is not wasted,

I love you all and thank you very much for listening...

And now i have something to say about Jesse since i made him puke from a lie via email Because he made me mad for being a Dick douchebag and not caring enough about me, not wrecking his motorcycle and then lying to make me feel bad and stupider than ever although I saw the wreck and my being a girl, up and President running, couldn't stop to rescue or assist a man on his feet whom had already picked up his bike after a wipe out and the trailer passed me up to show me he would assist because forgive those trespassers as we trespass ourselves and i care that he could really been hurt. That may be a fault of mine but it is called Grace and not salvation which is being my daughter reincarnated into a goat in Iraq to keep everyone safe because Jesse is a dumb dumb sometimes and Matt Hagan prefers truth over himself, sometimes. Like being in love with a goat of my daughter's soul, in Iraq. (I bet he fucked her, too. Bestiality freak. Not my business tho, nor yours. But still, let's laugh instead of poking fun at his misadventures. It is funny, yo!)

Jesse cared about the goat so much he listened to her over every one, even me. Because he believed she was closer to God where he needed to be..

I changed his life once in Alabama and several times then, over and over, any time that need be.

But finally for this one time he trusted somebody else and learned to love as much as he could, the soul inside of him.

So God bless to all of the two headed creatures we will see wandering around the backs of people at the NHRA in the future to come. Including even on me.

I'm Mrs Cougar cause of my fingernails and my desire to be with someone young to keep me fresh and Alive -- not by his blood byt by the life he gives me. And he will be Mr Snake the one who slithers up beside me only for love while I labor in the grass kicking myself for what i might have done but not for what i might have missed out on because I was there the whole time thinking and feeling and frolicking through the grass, same as me.

And of course my tattoo will be scary cause the world as I know it, very much can be.

And you can thank me for the past or you can think about the future and beyond!!!

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irwintry · 5 years

Text

How to Attract a Sea Bear

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Author’s Note: 1. Play the clarinet badly 2. Wave a flashlight back and forth really fast (flashlights are their natural prey) 3. Stomp on the ground (they take it as a challenge) 4. Eat cubed cheese – sliced is safe 5. Wear a sombrero in a goofy fashion 6. Wear clown shoes 7. Wear a hoop skirt 8. Screech like a chimpanzee 9. Run (makes them attack again) 10. Limp (worse than running) 11. Crawl (worse than limping)

Word Count: 6k

But now I am Six, I'm as clever as clever, So I think I'll be six now forever and ever.”

― A.A. Milne, Now We Are Six

Up until Luke, there were two types of people in the world. Those who were family (the ones who had to love you unconditionally no matter how many walls you scribbled Patrick Star on) and those who were your classmates. Close friends weren’t in the picture yet. Though public school had been going on for nearly two years now, you were perfectly content with keeping to yourself in the back of the classroom. A sheet of paper and a crayon were enough to keep you happy.

And then, Luke Hemmings had to come and ruin it all.

It was his first day of school after moving to town, and he decided to waltz right up to you and compliment your drawing of the Krusty Krab. If you had kept your mouth shut, you weren’t sure what would have happened. Maybe he would have kept bothering you. But instead, you said “thank you”, and he sat down right at your table while you went on about his funny accent. The other kids stared, of course. You never talked to anyone! Not even the teacher.

When you asked your parents if you could have Luke over for a playdate, they nearly cried. You took the time to introduce him to all of your toys, and he listened. And he was willing to play with them! No one could believe it. Of all of the people on the earth to become your first best friend, they were thrilled to know that it was the nicest one possible.

Slumber parties were common, mostly so the two of you could watch cartoons together the next morning with Eggo waffles or Lucky Charms. Couches became forts while your parents tried their best not to think of the future potential the friendship could have. It was hard not to hope for their child to love someone as wonderful as Luke was to you.

First years became second years, then third to fourth, and nothing changed between the two of you. You couldn’t imagine it ever changing. Not at all.

“He was thirteen that year, the age when children splinter off and abandon the old loves.” ― Mark Costello

“If you don’t change the channel, I’ll sit on your face and suffocate you.”

“Thank god you said you’d kill me, otherwise that doesn’t sound like much of a threat.”

Luke had been in this situation with you a million times. Your place or his– he was used to constant back-and-forth banter. If there was no banter, then the two of you were most likely not together. The friendship of crude humor and gross farts had only just entered teendom, though Luke couldn’t imagine a thing would change. He knew you didn’t have cooties, and vice versa (he hoped). It didn’t matter. The seven-years-in-the-making friendship meant more than the jokes of scrawny preteens.

“I give you four seconds,” he said.

“Why four?”

“Three... two...”

“That’s a dumb– “

“One!” Luke pounced on you, his arms darting to taser your sides as you screamed and squirmed. Meanwhile, the two capri-suns had fallen to the hardwood with a small splat. “Stop screeching like a damn chimp,” he hissed, but he couldn’t hold in his laughter. “Sea bears don’t like that.”

“Don’t– “ You gasped for air, and finally, you were able to kick him off of you. The remote had dropped down to the floor beside the leaking drink pouches. “Don’t care. I’ll screech like a damn chimp if I wanna.”

“Your mum’s gonna hate that you swore.”

“Your mum is gonna hate that you swore.” You glanced down to the fallen heroes beside you. “You owe me a new Roarin’ Waters.”

“Only if you put on Spongebob.”

“Fine.”

Things were as simple as that. Luke never had to worry about upsetting you, nor you with him, and it all narrowed down to the similar personalities that had developed throughout the past three years. If Luke didn’t have you, he wouldn’t know who he would be.

He had a premonition– a hopeful tug at his heart when he thought what was to come between the two of you. Maybe it had been this way all along. Every side glance or puckered expression made sense in his mind. The humor the two of you shared was unlike any other, and he simply couldn’t fathom the possibility that someone else out there would one day share it with you as well. Luke had never considered himself a jealous person until the few times at your locker or during lunch when he wasn’t the only one in your world.

How could he have let himself get this attached to someone? It would take him years to know.

“Did I think he was “the one?” I’ll never know. At sixteen, everyone is “the one.”

― K.A. Tucker, Ten Tiny Breaths

It was a rare occurrence for you to keep a secret from Luke. You told him about your celebrity crushes and your desire to write fanfiction (there were minor judgments on his part). You told him about the darker sides to your parents’ divorce, and you always opened up to him about whatever insecurity was going through your mind. However, when your friend Hailey asked you who you though the hottest guy in school was, you knew you would never be able to let him know that you had said his name.

It was the age of formals and sappy first dates, though you still felt too young to understand the complexity of relationships. While everyone else was exploring new ways to make-out, you were too busy trying to get comfortable with yourself. Tight jeans, flannel shirts, and skater shoes were the keys to unlocking the ultimate prize when it came to high school. And Luke, well, the ultimate prize had won him.

You became the way to his heart. In order to get to him, everyone had to get through you. At first, being the gatekeeper didn’t seem all that bad. You controlled who was worthy. If they had done a few sketchy things within the past year, then Luke – through your words – just so happened to not have feelings for them.

As the year went on, more people were turned away, and things became, well, weird. Truth be told, every single person who went to you to seek out Luke was told he, unfortunately, was not interested in them, even if it wasn’t true. You were speaking through jealousy, not facts, and you never figured he would catch on.

So, when he did, naturally, it blew up in your face.

“Did you actually tell Marissa McKee that I didn’t like her?”

The walk home had been silent for quite some time. You could tell his outburst had been building ever since school let out.

“Like, what the actual fuck, Y/N?”

You huffed, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your fluffy sweatshirt. “H-how was I supposed t’know that you liked her?”

Luke chuckled dryly. “Jesus. I told you two weeks ago! You’re supposed to know because we’re best friends. Best friends know that shit. Best friends don’t tell the person their friend likes that they don’t like them back.”

“’m sorry.”

“How could you not know?” he continued. “Like– Jesus.”

You couldn’t figure out what else to say, and neither could Luke. The two of you parted ways a moment later once you turned on his block, and then it was only another neighborhood over in order to get to your place.

It wasn’t rocket science, but you couldn’t figure it out at the time. All you knew was that it possibly had something to do with calling him the hottest guy in school, but you left it at that.

“I wish," he said, "I had known at eighteen what I know now - that there are some things on which one does not compromise.”

― Mary Balogh, Simply Perfect

“Don’t eat that,” Luke said, voice rushed as his hand jumped to grasp yours. He had a point about his itchy sweater; the red, wool material scratched your skin, albeit barely grazing it. “Do you want to attract a sea bear? ‘m not a big fan of having to clean up blood from my mum’s carpets.”

You tried to keep a straight face as you lifted the cubed cheese off of the tray despite Luke’s request. “The final touch,” you mumbled and set a bland cracker just under the Swiss cube.

His eyes widened. “You’re a dumbass. A real, lactose-intolerant dumbass.”

“Shut up,” you replied with a smirk. But the cubed cheese wasn’t as good as you were hoping it would be.

The Hemmings Christmas parties carved the path for your favorite time of year. Somehow, the snow knew when to fall as ugly sweaters gathered in the living room you used to watch Teen Titans in. Cocktails and hors-d'oeuvres were served on platters, and children danced around legs longer than their own height. And the decorations... sometimes, you had no words. Everything had a place, and everything had a purpose.

This year, your nerves were on high alert. In years past, you and Luke would spend the majority of the night by each other’s side, making snide comments or talking “grown up” with other adults. His girlfriend came into the picture months ago. Nevertheless, she was invited, and she was late. You didn’t know what to do once she got here.

Luke’s nerves were also on high alert. It was the first time Lara was meeting his family, and her lack of punctuality was already not making a great impression. The funny part of it all was the fact that cared more about your impression overall. He needed your approval, whether he wanted to believe it or not. You were the only person who knew him better than he did.

The air stiffened when Lara walked in. Luke didn’t know why he noticed it, but he had, and maybe it was because he knew you better than you knew yourself as well. He could sense every dropped composure or change in expression. He convinced himself it was the twelve years of friendship that caused him to read you so intently. But he couldn’t let all of this bother him.

He hardly saw you throughout the next few hours of the night. And then, it was charades time.

“Ready to have your ass kicked for the fifth year in a row, Lukey?” you said with a smile so sweet it could melt anyone with eyes into a sugary puddle.

Luke shrugged, and his shoulders itched with the movement of his sweater. “Can you even reach my ass?”

“I have my secrets.” You plopped down into the chair across from him and began scribbling down ideas onto tiny slips of paper.

“A secret to reaching my ass? That sounds– “

“Hey, shut it,” said Liz, but she had cracked a smile. “Let’s get on with the game.”

You prided yourself in being the ultimate charades actor. Luke, on the other hand, could hardly figure out how to act out Ghostbusters. But, like you had a secret to reaching his ass, he had a secret to stumping you and your team. It was a miracle it even worked.

“Shit,” you muttered, reading the slip of paper in between your small fingers. Your eyes met his and immediately hardened into a glare. “Die.”

Luke burst into a small fit of laughter, and he hardly felt Lara’s grip on his hand loosen as he focused all of his attention onto you. With a sigh, you held up six fingers.

“Six words,” said his uncle. “Shit, really?”

You rolled your eyes before bringing your hands in front of you to begin acting. You tried your best to look as though you were playing clarinet, though a few other instruments had been shouted out as you kept going. A moment later, you were stomping and holding up the tray of cubed cheese while pounding on your chest like a damn chimp. Luke made sure he took a mental picture of this. He could never forget this moment.

“Time’s up,” Liz yelled through the loud chatter. “What the actual hell was that?”

You narrowed your eyes at your blond best friend and spat, “how to attract a fucking sea bear,” before running over to his spot on the couch to tackle him. His chest hurt from the laughter booming from his lungs, and he could hardly feel his face aside from the occasional burning of his cheeks.

Someone mumbled “that’s seven words”, but neither of you could hear as he attempted to push you off of him. Luke’s senses were overwhelmed. The loud laughing and shouting of the small yet crowded room, plus you being practically on top of his lap at the same time, were sending his brain into some euphoric state.

And somehow, he knew it would all come crashing down.

Lara took him aside moments later. “If you want to keep me around– “

Luke didn’t like where this was going.

“–you will keep your hands off of Y/N.”

Luke didn’t know how to say no.

“Everyone, at nineteen, is dumb and beautiful in equal parts...”

― Raphael Kadushin

need iced coffee rn

wanna come?

Luke had his comforter pushed up to his nose. Being home for the holidays meant feet dangling off of childhood beds, his mother’s infamous casseroles, and best of all, plenty of time to spend with you. He rubbed his tired eyes before slowly sitting up to answer your text.

You buying?

He replied and sighed, rubbing his neck and pushing his weight out of the twin-sized bed. The small murmur of chatter from the kitchen filled his ears, and if he was honest, he didn’t want to join the conversation. All Luke wanted was a long drive with you.

like hell

i’m drivin bitch

gimme gas $$

Luke chuckled at your response as he dug through his bottom drawer for a thin sweatshirt.

Fine I’m in

The next few minutes were filled with wandering around the small (and quite dirty) confines of his carpeted bedroom and humming along to whatever song popped into his sleepy brain. Your car was in the driveway before he realized, and soon, the familiar obnoxious honking bounced around the four walls.

“Luke, tell Y/N to shut the hell up!” shouted Liz from the kitchen, but it was all fun.

He let out another laugh before rushing into the living room and out of the house with a squeaky “g’bye”. You continued honking even when he clambered into the passenger seat, and a part of him wanted to let you keep going. You were smiling so damn big.

“Shut the fuck up,” he said, hitting your hand away from the steering wheel. “Liz was seconds away from beating you up.”

“Tell her I want that,” you replied before pressing resume on whatever song had been playing on your phone. “If Liz can take me in a fight, then I don’t need goals. Like, I’m set for life after that.”

“Oh, but fighting me is just second nature?”

You shrugged as you began backing out of the driveway. “Yeah, I mean, you’re weak, so...”

“Fuck you.”

“Bet ya wish ya could.”

“I– “ Luke didn’t have a comeback, so he cut himself off.

You gasped. “Does that mean you actually want to fuck me?”

“No!” he exclaimed, his voice jumping up to a much higher octave (which usually occurred whenever he had to defend himself... it was either that, or he was lying).

You giggled, like you usually did when pressing his buttons, and then turned the music up.

Luke hadn’t thought much about sex without anyone else since breaking things off with Lara many months ago. It was tragic but true. No one consumed his mind; he hardly had the time to focus on fancying anyone. He knew how to satisfy himself enough, though Luke couldn’t help but wonder if he was broken. The thought only overwhelmed his mind for a split moment– your poor dancing to the Jonas Brothers distracted him meanwhile.

And then, he was thinking about you.

No, he hadn’t thought about fucking you. For the majority of his life, you felt like family. Hell, you were treated exactly like family. Somehow, along those lines, he still recognized the fact that you were special to him and only him. Years ago, he would have thought it weird to think about you in bed. He still thought it weird, but the more it washed over him, the less acidic the idea tasted on his tongue.

Luke could force the feelings away if he truly wanted to. He could forget he ever spent a moment thinking about you in this way. But instead, he grabbed your dainty hand, wedging his own fingers in between yours before slipping back into the new future his brain was conjuring up for him.

Most of all, you would have no idea that his skin flushed at the thought of spending an evening with you.

“He was twenty. I remembered twenty. I'd known everything at twenty. It took me another year to realize I knew nothing.”

― Laurell K. Hamilton, Circus of the Damned

His hands held the desire to crush the two plastic cups in his drunken grip. If he focused hard enough, he would trample the toes of ditzy dancers, their hips knocking hard into his path. Instead, his eyes were trained on you. You, with the curve of your neck aimed towards a taller man, were too busy to notice your best friend.

The contents of the one red cup spilled over his angry knuckles. Luke hardly noticed the sharp sensation of plastic digging into his skin until the alcohol hit the feet of innocent bystanders. There were loud yelps and threats, but he didn’t hear a single one. He envisioned the smoke streaming from his ears the moment you leaned into the man whose hand traced circles onto your waist.

Luke locked himself in the bathroom. The white-tiled room proved itself to be more interesting than the crowded college party he originally invited you to. There were pictures of city skylines and prints of surrealist paintings, but he couldn’t stay concentrated on one thing long enough before he lost himself in the thought of that man’s hands on you. Luke could have stopped it if he had the mental strength. But truth be told, he preferred feeling pathetic over disappointing you.

He had managed to get comfortable on the small fuzzy rug in front of the sink. His black t-shirt was covered in some alcoholic drink, and he assumed it had been yours before his fingers did the deed of crushing the solo cup to death. This jealousy had sprung up out of nowhere. If he hadn’t invited you over in the first place, he would have never experienced someone captivating your attention like he was so used to doing himself.

An hour of “occupied” and “someone’s in here” passed by slowly, and Luke spent the entire time checking his phone for texts from you. The same wallpaper of your face photoshopped onto Squidward greeted him every time. It reminded him of when a friend or stranger would ask who you were, and he would spend close to ten minutes trying to convince them that, no, he was not dating you. By that point, he’d rather say yes. He had enough knowledge of you to convince them.

someone said some blond has b een pukig his guts out in trhe bathrom for lik an hour now????

is that u??

are u ok

canm i c ome pee

Luke sighed. At least you had texted him.

Yeah, but I’m not puking

Pls join me

He sighed, resting his head against the wooden cabinet behind him as the sounds of the party echoed in his aching head.

hm ok ;;)

“Knock, knock!” you shouted from outside of the door. “You better be naked.” A few giggles left your lips, and if Luke had been any drunker, his entire body would have burst into flames.

“Comin’,” he mumbled as he lifted himself up gradually. His knees cracked as they bent, and it took most of his energy to not keel over into the porcelain bathtub before him.

You were grinning as he opened the door, your body immediately falling into his chest before closing the door behind you. “Comin’, huh?” you questioned, gripping tightly onto his waist. “Thinkin’ ‘bout me as you came?”

Luke peeled you off of him. His eyes were wide as he asked, “how many drinks have ya had?”

You held up four fingers, or maybe it was five. Or maybe three. Luke couldn’t tell– he didn’t care. You dragged down your pants a moment later.

“W-wh– what are you doing?”

“Goin’ pee,” you replied before sitting yourself down onto the toilet.

Luke sighed again as he turned away from you. This whole night was a terrible decision.

“What are you doin’?” you asked him. Your voice was still light and slurred, but you sounded happy. It was hard for Luke to comprehend the emotions surrounding him at the moment.

“Givin’ you privacy.”

You snorted. “Okay. Fourteen years of like, no privacy at all, and now you decide to give me privacy?”

He tried to focus on the sounds of the party as you spoke. “Mhm.”

There was a loud flush. “So, what’s up your butt t’night baby boo? Why’d ya lock yourself in here?” The sound of rushing water filled the small space, so he turned to face you once more.

Luke shrugged. He had no way of telling you about the jealousy that coursed through his veins at the sight of you pressed against another man. He had no way of communicating the fact that this jealousy ran deeper than just friendship.

“Lukey, I can read ya like a book,” you said, plopping down onto the rug he had just spent a whole hour sitting on and waiting for you to text him.

He shook his head. “Jus’, no reason,” he replied, another shrug following.

You quirked an eyebrow up at him in suspicion. You weren’t going to let him off the hook that easily. “You locked yourself in the bathroom when you received your first college rejection letter.”

“I promise, I’m fine.”

“You say that, but– “

“Are you having a good time?”

“What?” you asked.

Luke leaned back against the door the moment someone knocked their knuckles against it. “Occupied. I said, are you having a good time?”

“Well, yes, but– “

“Then, that’s all that fucking matters.” Luke wanted nothing more to be in bed with you at the foot as you went off about some dramatic contestant on that evening’s episode of Jeopardy. He didn’t want to be in this position with you.

You stood up, your arms folded tightly across your chest. Your eyebrows were knotted, and your lips were pulled into a frown. “What’s your deal?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled out so low he could hardly hear.

“Lu, what is your deal?”

“That fucking guy!” he shouted. “That guy who had you wrapped around his fucking finger is my deal. Okay? Happy? I’m fuckin’ jealous for some fucking reason. I wanted to punch his fuckin’ smirk off of his fuckin’ face because his fuckin’ hands were– “

“You’re jealous of a guy touching me?” you whispered.

Luke wanted to pay a random buff guy to punch him in the face so he could forget this conversation ever happened. That wouldn’t cause you to forget it, but he could at least convince you that you were going crazy.

He let out a long, shaky exhale before bringing his hands up to his temples. “I fucking guess.”

Your lips were pulled into a deep frown. It was the kind of frown that you wore whenever someone disappointed you, no matter how small the issue. If they couldn’t pick up a candy bar from the store, cue the frown.

“Can– can we go?”

Luke nodded. Both of you had accepted defeat.

“When you are in your twenties, even if you're confused and uncertain about your aims and purposes, you have a strong sense of what life itself is, and of what you in life are, and might become.”

― Julian Barnes, The Sense of an Ending

Luke had, once again, pulled out the old red sweater for the annual Hemmings Christmas party. However, this year, no girlfriends were attending alongside him. It was relieving to know he could catch up with you whilst surrounded by the primitive atmosphere of his immediate family. Plus, he already down one beer before the afternoon began. Despite his (very) minor intoxication, he still convinced himself he was seeing things as the sight of hanging greens and white berries tied with a bright red bow caught his eye.

“Mum, what’s this?”

Liz ambled over and grinned. “Mistletoe! Figured we’d start a new tradition.”

“Wh-what?” He would definitely need another beer within the next hour, and the party hadn’t even started. “Why?”

His mother shrugged as she continued going through her decoration checklist. Wreaths were hung, platters were stacked with all sorts of foods, and champagne flutes were delicately placed beside the many bottles of alcohol. The Hemmings family took their Christmas parties seriously. The large fir in the living room had gifts below the lowest boughs for weeks.

“Jus’ need more excuses to kiss Andy,” she replied smugly.

Luke rolled his eyes, and he almost accepted that as her final answer before she continued.

“The whole family decided that it’s about time you and Y/N get together anyway,” she said, and nonchalantly at that. She was stacking the brownies without bothering to look back to see her son’s gaped expression.

“What?”

She hummed.

“Ya can’t be serious, mum!”

“Of course ‘m serious,” she chuckled. “We swore ya’d be together by now.”

Luke sighed. The past few years had changed your relationship, both distance and different feelings combined, but he tried to ignore it as best as he could. He assumed you were doing the same. By this point, there was no way he could deny the nerves that built in his stomach at the thought of being in the same room as you. Something tugged in his heart when it came to you, and it only ever pulled him closer.

The evening came, and it only took about thirty minutes for the aunts, uncles, and cousins to get absolutely smashed. Luke, on the other hand, cradled his second beer until the glass no longer held a touch of cold. You had willingly joined a few of his cousins for a conversation on the couch, while in the dining room, his uncles were yelling political statements that had no reason to be shouted. Luke was left in the kitchen to analyze the foods.

“Okay, I get that like, marriage is a thing, but I don’t wanna talk about that with your cousins,” you said on your way into the kitchen. You had done something new with your hair, and Luke couldn’t stop thinking about how soft it looked against your dark green sweater. “Don’t eat all of the little smokies!” you wailed, crossing your arms. “Ya fuckin’ animal.”

Luke chuckled and tossed his used toothpick into the trash under the sink. Meanwhile, his eyes caught a glimpse of– “your shoes. What are those? Fuckin’ clown shoes.”

Your mouth fell open. “Meanie. I bought these on sale. ‘m sorry they’re too ugly for your Christmas party.”

“Oh, no, I’m not worried about that,” he said with a grin. “’m worried about the... the sea bear.”

You rolled your eyes and started towards the living room. “Fuck you.”

“Bet ya wish you could,” he replied, following suit.

“Literally, I never– “

“Stop right there!” Liz shouted from across the living room. A little over a dozen heads snapped in the direction of you and Luke, and their smiles only widened. For a moment, Luke couldn’t figure it out.

But then, he looked up.

“Shit,” he mumbled, eyeing the mistletoe that hung above the two of you.

Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes followed his gaze, and once again your mouth fell open slightly.

“If ya don’t kiss, I’ll beat you up,” threatened someone, and their statement was followed by a bunch of kiss chants that sent Luke’s blood boiling.

He wasn’t angry, nor was he upset. He was nervous. Your eyes were still locked on the dainty branches hanging just above his forehead, and Luke didn’t know what to do. Your lips, the lips that he had thought about kissing for years, were pulled into a small pout.

“We don’t have to,” he mumbled, trying his best to smile through the pain of the situation. But he knew it wasn’t a bad pain. The ache was crawling up his chest and into his throat, preventing his voice from tossing out words that didn’t need to be said.

You shrugged, neck twisting to face the family that had practically become your own after all of these years. If this had occurred years ago, would he feel your hesitance the same? “Let’s just please ‘em,” you sighed with a chuckle. “They won’t let us live it down otherwise.”

“Ya sure?”

You nodded, the small smiling growing ever so slightly as your shoulders rose and fell with grace. “No harm in it.”

Luke nodded, too. You were wrong, however, because if nothing changed after this, the harm would come to him.

“So, we just– “

He took a small step forward, touching the tip of his boots to the tip of your clown shoes. Sure, he had been this close to you hundreds of times before, if not closer, but the proximity meant nothing then. It meant nothing when he crawled on top of you to retrieve the remote. It meant nothing when you attacked him after a game of charades. It meant nothing until he finally realized it always meant something.

Luke inhaled sharply, resting his hands on your waist as you gave him another reassuring smile. He truly loved your smile. “S’okay?” he whispered while leaning in and resisting the urge to back away.

You hummed. Your hands had found their way up to his neck, and his skin burned from the touch. Even without the pads of your fingers dancing along the muscles along his throat, his skin would still burn.

He felt as though years had passed by the time you closed the distance, your bottom lip gently nestling in between his. You put an ample amount of pressure into the kiss, careful not to overstep your boundaries, but Luke’s mind took control after that. His fingers dug into your waist as he took the chance to press his lips a little harder against yours. The skin on his cheeks would melt off if either of you took this a bit further. Every nerve in his body had ignited.

And then you let go, and suddenly everything felt cool again. He didn’t like the sensation of your lips leaving his, but he did like the timid smile that stretched across your blushing cheeks. There were cheers from his parents, hoots and hollers from his uncles and aunts, but he could hardly hear a single thing. Luke needed you to know how that kiss made him feel.

“Um,” he mumbled, letting out a cough as he reached for his beer to take a quick swig. Luke glanced over at the clock on the stove before looking back to you. “Grab your coat and meet me outside.” He took off towards his bedroom a moment later.

The shaking in his hands hadn’t subsided by the time he met you outside. Your teeth were chattering, but you looked too damn adorable in your knit hat. He couldn’t believe that he had kissed you. He couldn’t believe that he had kissed you.

“W-what’s up buttercup?” you stuttered with a great big smile. Maybe you hadn’t minded the kiss at all. Nevertheless, it didn’t make the upcoming conversation any easier.

Luke kicked a chunk of snow onto the sidewalk. “Uh.” He winced, brushing his curls back before adjusting the beanie on his head. “Shit, I don’ really know where to start.” He let out a defeated laugh. His hands were already raw despite the fur-lined pockets of his coat. If only he had brought gloves.

You didn’t say anything as the two of you rounded the corner onto the next street over. The street lamps and porch lights lit the path well with the help of the snow as a reflector. Luke believed that, throughout his sixteen years of knowing you, he had shared secrets much deeper than his fondness towards you. None of them proved to be as nerve-wracking as this moment right here.

“Y’know when we were like, sixteen, and you told the girl I liked that I didn’t like her?” he asked, a hot puff of air hitting his cheeks as he exhaled rapidly. Luke gazed over at you and watched your confused expression tighten.

“I-I think so?”

“I wasn’t really that mad.” Luke wanted to reach out for your hand, similar to the times he would do it just to hold onto something.

“Oh, okay.”

“And the time Lara asked me to stop– “

You snorted. “Fucking hated that bitch.”

Luke smirked in response. “Yeah, that really pissed me off. It destroyed me. I dunno why I didn’t realize that I’d pick you over her any day. Fuck, I’d pick you over anyone.”

“Really?”

Despite the conflict arising in his brain, Luke reached out for your hand, and he was relieved when you gladly complied. “Mhm.” He blinked and breathed out a few times to hopefully steady his heart rate. “’nd when I got mad ‘bout that guy at the party a few years ago.”

“Oh, Lu, I told you I hardly remember– “

“But I do,” he said, frowning. “I was so jealous. Like, so fuckin’ jealous. Didn’t know why. Couldn’t even figure it out. And then, it clicked, and suddenly– “

“What clicked?” You stopped walking, your eyes widening, but just barely.

Luke swallowed thickly. “I jus’– I guess I– “ He sighed. “I don’t even know when I noticed but– “

“Luke,” you chuckled, tugging on his hand, “it’s just me.”

He stared at you, noticing how relaxed you seemed in his presence. You were right, it was just you. He nodded and took one more deep breath. “I’m in love with you.”

Your smile faltered, and in that moment, Luke could feel his heart fall to his feet, but the smile soon grew once again. “Y’are?” You bit your lip.

He could feel his lips twitch into a grin as well as he nodded again, his grip on your hand slackened gently. “Yeah,” he whispered.

In one swift movement, you had your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed your cold lips to his. Noses bumped, and teeth clashed, but neither of you seemed to care as your embrace tightened. Luke could feel your smile against his chapped cheeks, and he didn’t mind one bit that your toes were on his. He hardly had enough strength to balance the two of you, but if you were to collapse into the snow bank beside the shoveled path, he wouldn’t care one bit.

“Is this– um,” Luke pulled away to look at you. “Does this mean– “

“If you don’t get too bummed over losing charades again for the ninth year in a row, I might just be in love with you, too.”

458 notes · View notes

theprinceandagcd · 6 years

Text

they all knew our names all over town

Summary: "“They’re so stupid,” she says out loud without meaning to.

“Who is?” Maya asks, following Octavia’s gaze to where her brother and best friend have finally separated, and Bellamy is helping Clarke put her bracelet on her wrist.

“They are,” she answers, glancing back at her friend. “They’re crazy about each other.”"

A little Octavia POV of "I'll always wear the crown that you gave me"

Words: 3,871

also on ao3

We wrote our own story full of blood, sweat, and heartbeats we didn’t do it for the fame or the glory but we went down in history

Once, when they were fourteen, Octavia Blake told her best friend it would be funny if she married her brother, Bellamy. Clarke Griffin had nearly come undone with laughter, promised Octavia that she didn’t have to marry her brother in order for them to be sisters. Bellamy had feigned offense on the other side of the wall and they’d all giggled, and Octavia never mentioned that she hadn’t been entirely kidding.

Still, she never thought she would watch them across a football stadium, snuggled close together and sharing nachos as if there are no other people in existence. She never thought she would see Clarke stumble over her words for someone even mentioning that she and Bellamy liked each other. She never thought she would see her brother grin at his phone like an idiot every time he gets a text from her, never thought she would see him depend on her, lean on her for support on the anniversary of their mom’s death, drop everything to do anything she asks him to do.

She doesn’t say anything for a while though, not until one day when Bellamy comes in her room late in the afternoon, finished with an essay he was working on.

“It lives,” she gasps, shooting a smirk at Clarke. Her best friend bites her lip in an attempt to stifle a giggle. “I owe you twenty bucks.”

Bellamy’s eyes narrow, but there isn’t any heat behind it. “I finished my paper.”

Clarke’s response is quick and easy. “And now you’re bored and desperate for love and attention?”

Octavia watches as Bellamy’s face changes, as he crosses the room quickly and throws his body half on top of Clarke’s. They’re both laughing, even as Clarke tries to shove him off, even as Bellamy settles his head onto her shoulder, refusing to budge. The two of them relax for just a moment, but it seems to last a lifetime and Octavia realizes how comfortable they are sharing this same, small space next to her, how easy they seem to fit together, how the proximity doesn’t seem to bother them at all.

(Other than that little bit of romantic tension, of course.)

And then she watches as Clarke makes them both fall off the bed, watches the way her eyes shift just the slightest when “love you, too, princess” rolls off Bellamy’s tongue easily, but also watches him watch her reaction.

(They’re both idiots, oh God.)

She waits until Bellamy is gone to say, “You know how I joked about you marrying my brother? Like, when we were fourteen?”

“Yeah,” Clarke replies, suddenly focusing much too hard on her notebook. Octavia gets it, and she keeps her own eyes down.

“You know I still stand behind that.” Octavia keeps her voice level, not wanting to overstep any of her bounds, trying not to let on that she’s suddenly wondering what colors their wedding should be.

(Because if they ever marry anyone else, she’ll probably kill them.)

Looking over at her best friend, she sees that she’s chewing on her bottom lip. She shrugs, forcing herself to stay casual, just trying to see what the idea does to Clarke. “You guys would be cute together.”

There’s a pause, and this time, Octavia lets the silence linger. She just puts her attention back on her note cards and waits.

“He just thinks of me as a sister, like you.”

Yeah, right.

“Hm.” It’s all she says for a minute, while she wonders if there is anything she could do, anything she could say to make Clarke believe that Bellamy looks at her differently, that the affection in his eyes when he gazes at Clarke is deeper, less familial by a long shot. Eventually, she decides to just let it go, mostly. “Maybe, but maybe not.”

------

“So, why don’t you like Finn?”

Octavia watches Bellamy jolt a little, watches him narrow his eyes at her suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“Oh come on,” she scoffs, plopping down next to him on the couch. “If looks could kill, he would have been dead the moment you saw him at the park today.”

She turns on the TV, flipping through channels for a moment before settling on a soccer game. A moment passes in silence, and then she sighs. She’s going to have to work a little harder for this one, clearly. “Seriously, Bellamy, what gives? Why do you hate him so much?”

He huffs, and she sees him run a hand through his hair. “I just don’t think he’s good for Clarke, he seems…”

“Not you?”

His brow furrows, but it almost seems fake to her, like he’s forcing it to make her think he’s confused by her statement. “No? Where is this coming from?”

Octavia huffs, frustrated. “I just feel like it might be rooted in… jealousy.”

Bellamy is quiet for a minute, his eyes clouded and troubled enough that she doesn’t say anything else. Eventually, he shrugs a little, though that look doesn’t go anywhere. “I just don’t want her to get hurt.”

And then she does.

Three days after Octavia finds out about Finn and Raven, Bellamy comes home with bruised knuckles, and she knows immediately why. She gets the bag of frozen peas and hands them to him, waits a moment while he presses them to the back of his hand.

He doesn’t say that she was right, and she doesn’t either. But he meets her eyes and shrugs, just a little, and she figures it’s only a matter of time from there before they get together.

And then they don’t.

She watches them continue to dance around each other, pretend that they don’t immediately lock eyes every time the other enters a room. They decide to go to Arcadia Western together and stay close to home, despite the fact that Clarke could go anywhere she wanted to.

“You know she’s staying for you, too,” Octavia tells Bellamy, after Clarke has officially submitted her commitment deposit.

He looks up at her from across the dinner table evenly, a little too used to her random bouts of commentary at this point. “Who, Raven? Yeah, I know. She just can’t stay away.”

Octavia narrows her eyes at the reminder—Clarke had hidden in her room for a week after she found out about Raven and Bellamy. Octavia is the only one who knows that she didn’t actually have the stomach flu. “Not funny, and you know that’s not what I meant.”

Her brother hesitates, scratching at the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, speaking of which, though, I, uh… I got a present for Clarke, and I just… I wanted to know what you thought of it.”

The way that he’s suddenly so nervous makes Octavia want to scream, but she bites down on the inside of her cheek, hard enough she tastes blood. “Is it telling her that you’re crazy about her? Because I’ll accept no less.”

“Will you—“ Bellamy huffs, looking back down at the paper he’s reading with his lips pursed. After a moment, he produces a box from his pocket without meeting her eyes, sliding it across the table to her. Upon opening it, Octavia sees a silver charm bracelet with only one charm: a small silver crown with a pink gemstone in the middle. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

Any teasing comment Octavia would have made escapes her as she stares at the piece of jewelry, brushing her finger against the small charm. For some reason, moisture burns in her eyes. “Because you call her princess.”

She looks up at him, and he gives her a little shrug. “Yeah. Is it too cheesy?”

Octavia shakes her head, taking a breath to steady the sudden swell of emotion. “No, it’s perfect. She’ll love it.”

And she knows it’s true—she knows that even though Clarke never wears jewelry that she’ll love the gift. Any time Bellamy’s nickname for her rolls off his tongue, Clarke smiles and, if she was mad at him for any reason, it always seems to disappear. She’s his princess, always has been and always will be.

So, when graduation day comes and she makes an excuse to break away from the bear hug that Bellamy had pulled both Clarke and herself into, she watches them from a few yards away, not listening to the conversation around her. Bellamy’s smile is almost obnoxious, but Clarke’s isn’t much better as he hands her the small box with her gift in it. Octavia watches as Bellamy rocks on his feet, nervous, while Clarke opens it.

Clarke loves it, like Octavia expected. She touches the metal as if it’s precious and she’ll break it if she uses too much pressure, her grin wide and happy when she looks back up at Bellamy. When Clarke hugs him, Octavia watches Bellamy hold her back tightly, watches him rest his head on top of Clarke’s and close his eyes, press his lips to her hair so gently that Clarke probably doesn’t even feel it. They stay like that for a long moment, Bellamy nuzzling her hair. Clarke is smiling into his chest, her own eyes closed tight.

They look lost in their own little world, like no one else exists except them.

“They’re so stupid,” she says out loud without meaning to.

“Who is?” Maya asks, following Octavia’s gaze to where her brother and best friend have finally separated, and Bellamy is helping Clarke put her bracelet on her wrist.

“They are,” she answers, glancing back at her friend. “They’re crazy about each other.”

“Yeah.” Maya bumps her elbow. “You gonna do something about it?”

Octavia sighs. “Should I?”

Maya doesn’t have a chance to respond because Bellamy walks up, asking a few questions about the graduation party that they’re going to until Clarke comes up, her new bracelet shining particularly bright against the skin on her wrist. When they go to leave, Bellamy kisses both of their heads dramatically, but he definitely lingers longer on Clarke.

So, so stupid.

------

After they start college, she forgets about them for a while, caught up in learning where everything is on campus and trying to balance studying with a social life, but when Clarke starts dating Lexa and Bellamy refuses to like her, too, the annoyance at him for being stupid comes back with a vengeance.

“So, what’s your excuse for why you don’t like Lexa?” Octavia asks after he meets the girl in question, brow raised.

“Who says I don’t?” he retorts from his spot on the couch, but he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Come on, Bellamy. You’re jealous and you know it. Stop being dumb.”

He sighs and turns on the TV, flipping through channels. “Let it go, O.”

She does, for the time being, but she probably would have pushed the issue more if Clarke and Lexa didn’t break up before she could. Clarke and Bellamy start spending more time together again—Clarke goes back home nearly every other weekend just to sit with him on a couch and watch Netflix and Bellamy always makes himself available for her.

They would literally be perfect together, and she thinks there really couldn’t be a better pairing in existence.

And then Clarke introduces her to Lincoln.

She falls for him quickly and easily in every aspect. He’s so gentle, so smart, so beautiful. It distracts her for a long time, the newness of being in love, of having someone always on her side. She doesn’t really think about her brother and best friend again until it’s nearly Christmas, and they’re all at home for a long weekend before they have to go back for finals.

Clarke is still finishing up an art final—a charcoal drawing of all of their friends that’s amazingly accurate in its details. The most accurate part, Octavia thinks, is that the Clarke in the drawing is smiling up at the Bellamy. It’s the most sure Octavia has ever been about Clarke loving her brother in return, and she’s been pretty sure for a long time.

Bellamy had been cleaning up in the kitchen when she calls him in to see one of his favorite scenes on Friends. He comes into the room looking frazzled, like he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t. He laughs appropriately, but it sounds forced. When he sits down in the recliner instead of going back to where he had been—with Clarke in the dining room, Octavia glances back into the kitchen, barely able to see Clarke leaned over her paper, hair covering her eyes. She turns back to the TV, snuggling a little further into Lincoln’s side while her imagination runs wild.

Did they kiss? Almost kiss? Did one of them say something in the realm of romantic possibility?

It’s a while later before Clarke comes in and sits down at Bellamy’s feet, looking a little shaken herself. Bellamy runs a hand through her hair, so gently, and asks if she wants to sit with him, in his lap, and before Octavia can even take a breath, Clarke is tucked into the recliner with Bellamy. Her head is propped next to his shoulder, his arm is around her and resting on her forearm—they look like a couple, like they fit next to each other so perfectly, like they’ve been doing it for so long that it’s effortless.

Octavia glances over at Lincoln and he’s watching them, too, in the quiet, observant way he does everything. He smiles when she meets his eyes, kisses her quickly. In all honesty, it isn’t much more unusual than they are normally. In fact, she wouldn’t think much about the day overall if it didn’t end with Clarke sneaking into her room that night, sliding underneath her covers quietly.

Octavia waits in silence, barely able to see Clarke’s blonde hair in the dark, until her best friend speaks, her voice breaking a little.

“I’m in love with your brother,” she says, her breath catching when she inhales.

Oh, honey, I know. Octavia wraps an arm over her, feeling her own heart break at her best friend’s sadness. How doesn’t she know?

He loves you, too.

She doesn’t say that, though— just takes a breath and whispers, “Yeah. I know.”

------

“You really shouldn’t get involved,” Lincoln tells her over and over, and if it weren’t for him, she would probably lock them both in a room until they get their act together. Still, the night that Bellamy calls her phone frantic about Clarke running out on him, she’s barely able to keep herself from yelling at him for being so fucking stupid.

“Slow down, Bell. What did you do?” she asks, glancing at Lincoln from where he sits on her bed.

“Clarke came over and she was upset because she changed her major and her mom was mad.” He’s still talking fast, but she can at least understand him now. “I was going to cook her a pizza and talk to her about it, I just forgot that Gina was supposed to come over and—“

“Gina?” Octavia stands, her heart hammering once, hard and quick. She presses a hand to her chest, throat suddenly tight. “Who the hell is Gina?”

Bellamy, to his credit, doesn’t hesitate too much at the way Octavia responded. “This girl I’ve been seeing. We had a date tonight but I would have cancelled. I just think Clarke felt like she was intruding and she ran out, but she seems upset and she won’t answer my phone calls and—“

“Bellamy.” Her voice cuts him off, and she’s ready to spend the next half hour telling him how stupid he is, but then she pictures Clarke driving down the road, upset and crying, and she stops herself. She reaches out and touches Lincoln’s shoulder, but somehow, he already knows and understands. He’s already putting his shoes back on. She takes a deep breath. “I’ll take care of it.”

She hangs up, closing her eyes for a moment. “He’s an idiot, he’s a stupid fucking idiot, oh my God. He has a fucking girlfriend and she came over while Clarke was there and now he’s shocked that Clarke ran out and she’s probably freaking out somewhere now, and…”

Lincoln takes her hands, holding her still for a moment. “Breathe, okay? Your best friend needs you.”

Octavia nods, taking a deep breath and dialing Clarke’s number slowly while Lincoln presses a kiss to her hair and leaves quietly.

She tells her to come home, tells her that she’s sorry, and then she and Raven spend the whole night holding her crying best friend. Bellamy texts a few times, but after the first one to let him know that Clarke did, in fact, make it home okay, she ignores him.

This is his mess and she’s cleaning it up. Maybe he can suffer for a little while.

------

“Where’s Clarke?”

“She had some homework,” Raven says easily, kicking off her shoes at the door.

“Oh.”

Octavia sighs, but doesn’t say anything else as her brother clearly sulks back into the sofa. Gina comes in after a moment, snuggling next to him, but the smile he gives his girlfriend falls as soon as she looks away.

“He’s so stupid,” Octavia fumes while they’re driving back toward campus, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. “He gets so upset when she doesn’t come over but then has no idea why she isn’t.”

Raven glances over at her, shrugging. “I think they have to figure it out themselves, honestly.”

Octavia purses her lips. “Maybe if I just—“

“No, Octavia.” Raven’s voice is firm. “If you try to interfere, you might make it worse, or they’ll get defensive toward you. They’ll figure it out, eventually. I’m sure they will.”

They mention to Clarke that she should text him, that he mopes when she doesn’t come over, but against everything in her screaming otherwise, she says nothing else.

She doesn’t tell Bellamy that the reason Clarke doesn’t come around anymore is because she can’t stand to see him with someone else. She doesn’t tell Clarke that Bellamy clearly doesn’t love this girl as much as he loves Clarke, and if Clarke saw them together she would realize that. She doesn’t tell Gina that she’s getting in the way of something Octavia has known would happen since she was twelve.

And, like everyone kept telling her, it somehow works out.

They go out on Clarke’s birthday, and Clarke gets just drunk enough to cling to Bellamy shamelessly. Octavia watches, not drinking nearly as much as the others think she is. The only one who notices is Lincoln, who just gives her a knowing smirk but says nothing.

And then Gina finally cracks.

She sees Bellamy and Gina from across the bar and assumes that whatever conversation they’re having it at the very least not a positive one. Trying to push back the feeling of satisfaction, of maybe finally she’s figured it out, is only slightly successful and it’s just enough to make her feel guilty. When she walks up, Bellamy is staring wide-eyed at Gina, mouth hanging open just slightly. He looks confused.

“Why does my brother look like someone slapped him in the face?” She directs the question at Gina, but it’s Bellamy who answers.

“Gina thinks that Clarke… likes me.”

Octavia blinks. It’s better than she was expecting.

Stay calm, stay calm.

“And I know that he loves her,” Gina pipes up, but she doesn’t even really seem angry.

“It doesn’t matter, she doesn’t feel that way.” Bellamy doesn’t sound entirely convinced, but Octavia notices that it isn’t a denial.

He does love Clarke.

But she already knew that, didn’t she?

“Well, at the very least, you love her. And I don’t want… I don’t want to be in this, not like this. Not when you’ll never look at me the way you look at her.” Gina gives a small shrug.

Bellamy looks like he’ll argue, but then… he doesn’t. Idiot. Octavia stares at the floor while they exchange a few more words and pleasantries that mean next to nothing, simply prolonging the goodbye. It’s hard not to interrupt, hard not to explode at Bellamy, who has practically admitted that he loves Clarke, and tell him that Clarke has been crying over him for months. It’s the most difficult thing she’s ever done to keep a lid on her own anger at him, for putting Clarke through so much turmoil unnecessarily.

It’s definitely a good thing that she hasn’t been drinking that much.

Within a few moments, Gina is walking out the door, and Bellamy is looking at her like his entire world has been flipped upside down. Octavia doesn’t look up, almost afraid to for fear of saying too much. “You love Clarke?”

He shrugs. “I mean, yeah, but… it doesn’t matter. What Gina said isn’t true, right?”

Another emotion completely rises in her chest and she closes her eyes. Oh big brother, you really have no idea, do you?

“You’re an idiot, and I need a drink,” is all she can manage to say without starting an avalanche of words spilling out of her mouth. Turning quickly on her heel, she goes back to where Clarke, Lincoln, Wells, and Raven are clinking their cocktail glasses together. Octavia downs hers quickly and orders another shot for herself, ignoring Lincoln’s stare. Bellamy spends the rest of the night as steady as ever at Clarke’s side, helps them get her home safe, and is the last person to leave her room once she’s settled into bed.

The next morning, she forces herself not to eavesdrop their conversation from the living room, only conceding because Lincoln tugs on her arm, probably.

She sits beside him on her bed, staring at the computer screen as The Office plays. “What do you think they’re talking about? You think he’ll tell her the real reason why Gina left?”

Lincoln shrugs just a little. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

She huffs, doing her best to concentrate until Raven pokes her head in, grinning. “You know your brother and your best friend are making out in the kitchen?”

Lincoln lets her go immediately, grinning as she jumps up, getting lost in her excitement as she rushes to Raven. “Oh my God, really? Finally, wow. Oh my gosh, this is the best Clarke’s birthday ever.”

Raven smirks. “Told you they’d figure it out without you, loser.”

Octavia giggles, collapsing back on her bed, overwhelmed with the happiness. “Do you think we should do purples or greens for their wedding? I’m leaning toward green, honestly. Maybe in the spring.”

“Little fast there, don’t you think?” Raven asks, leaning against the doorframe.

But Octavia just smiles. “No, not for me.”

------

On their wedding day, Octavia does her hair and makeup in a forest green bridesmaid’s dress, grinning at Clarke in the mirror when she’s finished. “You know what would be funny?”

Clarke returns her smile, eyes sparkling. “What?”

“If you married my brother.”

#bellarke #the 100 #bellarke ff #bellarke fanfiction #my writing #i'll probs never be done with this universe

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jimins-little-world-bts · 6 years

Text

Let’s Escape || One Shot

Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Fluffy Fluff, slight angst, smut, redhaired!Hoseok

Word Count: 2.4k

Sumary: Your boyfriend came with a propose that you couldn’t deny because of your love for him. Even if you could lose your job because of it.

Baby I want to leave.” Your boyfriend said to you, standing in the middle of the way of you and the tv. “What? Where? You want to leave me?” You asked almost joking. “No, no. Leave.” He said, laying beside of you on the couch. There was a silence, he started to smile and continued “I want us to scape somewhere. Like… Hawaii or a beach in nowhere.” He confessed holding your two hands on his hands. “I want to be in anywhere but here, we’re too stressed because of work, and practices, tours and everything. We need a break. Would you like to escape with me?”

“Hobi, where did you get this idea? You’re not the kind of guy who thinks about escape to the middle of nowhere from one day to another.” You said to him trying to watch the tv again. “Baby, we need to remember the good times together, we don’t have the same chemistry as before, I see that. You… I mean, we… sometimes get home from work and practically didn’t talk to each other. And if we speak we ended up arguing for nothing. I think our relationship needs a push. So why not? You still love me, right?” He said caressing your cheek while turning your head to face him, but you didn’t hear any more words after ‘a push’. A push? What does he even mean? Did he wanted to breakup or something and now came with this idea of trying to ‘save’ your relationship. You thought it was a trap… because you wouldn’t accept a 'lovers trip’ and he knew it.

You had a job, and not just any job but one of the worst jobs ever, you were the secretary of a very important CEO, owner of a great entertainment company, and lately he had been loading you with a lot of paperworks and forms that he didn’t want to fill out or read. Your boss was the worst, but you couldn’t quit, not because you needed the money to live, your boyfriend was a successful idol who had enough for your both survival. But you wouldn’t accept to live a life under another one’s wing and asking 'daddy’ to buy you clothes. So, even though you hated your job, you needed it. And 'an escape to somewhere’ with your boyfriend wasn’t on your to do list.

“Hoseok you know that I can’t leave like you can, if I don’t go to work for like two days they’ll fired me. You know me, you know that I need a job. Do you want to breakup, don’t you?”

“What? Why are you twisting my words? You can take the vacations they owed you since last year. And if they want to fire you, I’ll tell my lawyer to go with you. C'mon, you’re too stressed, let’s pack.” He said getting up from the couch and running to your shared bedroom. “Hobi, sto-Ugh…” You yell at him but stopped, starting to think about his idea.

It was true that you still had pending vacations, maybe you were exaggerating the situation. It was also true that lately you both had argued a lot, mostly for little things like washing the dishes or cleaning the house. Never about bills, because you two shared them and both of you earned enough money, or jealousy, or something else. They were always meaningless arguments.

Making your way into the bedroom, you saw all of his clothes on the floor with him on the center. Sitting cross legged choosing short pants, a few sweatpants, short sleeves shirts and sleeveless tees. You smiled at him, totally falling in his game seeing him anxious on the floor like a kid before holidays. Maybe it would be nice to be a bad girl for once in your life. Your boyfriend always had come with good ideas like road trips and surprise dates, but never about leaving your actual life to go somewhere on the other side of the world.

“No, honey, it’s just a week. What did you think? That I would abandoned my career? We’re on the top now, and I’m really proud of it. I want to enjoy this, but I feel extremely stressed out. Army will understand, I’m sure of it, they’re the best. C'mon, I’ll help you packing.” He said starting to open you closet. “Starting with your lingerie… oh I love these panties, and this bra ugh, help me. Go, pack. I will choose this, you can choose the other clothes. The ones that you’ll be not wearing all the time. Well… these are one of them too… fuck. Honey, don’t pack too much, I… I mean, it would be hot there.” He said while he was picking your underwear and threw it to you to put it on your suitcase. You were sure that you wouldn’t have to wear a lot of clothes, even more if you’re going to a place that no one knew. “Where are we exactly going?” You asked him while packing the things he threw at you. “Did you already buy the flying tickets or something?” You specified to him. “Well… not actually but we can find a place right now when we get to the airport, babe. Don’t worry about that.”

You laughed at his answer, making him throw a tee to your face while he laughed too. He was a dreamer.

At afternoon, you both had everything packed, sunscreen, creams, toothpaste, toothbrush, brushes, conditioner, soap, swimwear, crocs (your boyfriend’s gift of course, they matched color), clothes, jackets for the night, a tent, wallets, etc. and went to the airport, looking for help on the tickets box with the girl who attended you. You guys chose to go to Tobago, a small island in the Caribbean. The plane was ready to take off. So, both of you ran like crazy with each suitcase. “Hobi, hobi! Hurry up sweetie, we’re gonna lose the flight!” You said to him, running and taking your boyfriend by the arm with your free hand. By the moment you two entered at the plane, it closed the door. Lucky you you brought a blanket because it was hella cold on it. You were wearing jeans and Hobi told you to put your jacket, he knew that planes were cold.

A few moments later, you two were cuddling on your seats, under the blanket, and when you heard your boyfriend slight breathes, you knew he was sleeping, and you started to think about your relationship. Maybe Hobi was right and you were being a bitch around him. He always supported you since you finished College with him, and he never reproached you for anything. You were being insecure in this moment of your life, maybe you fought for anything with him because you were extremely stressed. But it wasn’t because you hated him or something, your job got you like this. You loved your boyfriend with your whole life, you didn’t want him to think that you don’t. Thinking about all of this you didn’t want to cry right there, but a tear had fallen over your cheek. You squeezed yourself on your boyfriend’s embrace, and fall asleep, hoping that you, in a few hours, will have the best moment of your life pretty soon with the person that makes it brighter.

Tobago was a small Island, you saw it from the plane, and it seemed so cute you were anxious to get there, you even went to the bathroom to change your clothes before landing. When you guys arrived, stood paralyzed at the view, it was beautiful; the sun, the sea, which you could admire from the airport, everything. You two walked with your suitcases around the place, hoping to find somewhere nice to spend the day, and maybe later, will look for a hotel to spend the night.

You both walked for an hour until you cross with an entrance to a small forest. You two looked at each other in searching for an adventure, there was no time wasted until you find a waterfall with a small lake. The view was so incredible that you couldn’t resist and started to take pictures of you guys.

Your boyfriend started to set up the tent while you were looking around and passed him the sticks. “It’s beautiful, right? We chose well.” He told you when you finished with the tent and put all inside of it. “Yeah, you’re the best, sweety.” You told him while you began to take off your t-shirt. “Wow, I didn’t know you were that needy, baby girl.” He said in a low voice leaning to kiss your neck. “Shut up, I want to swim!” You told him, pushing him away by his chest. You then took off your shorts too and started to rush to the little lake. “Hey! That’s not fair!” Your boyfriend complained while laughing, he took his shirt off and reached to you to lift you up bridal style and throw you to the water. You screamed and were laughing so hard that when you fell into the water you choked making Hobi laugh hard and get into the water with you.

“Ah… we needed this…” he said holding your body under the water and kiss you on the lips. You putted your hands around his neck and fell into the kiss. You were kissing your boyfriend for minutes, trying to let him know how much you loved him and how glad you were for being there with him. “Do you want to swim?” He interrogated, separating from you and touching the water with his arms. You held his hands saying yes and went deeper water, starting to swim frog style when your feet didn’t feel the ground. “Baby,” he called you from behind. You turned to see your boyfriend standing where you were before. “I don’t know how to swim there.” He confessed to you. “C'mon I’ll help you, just move your feet. You’re not going to drown. Look, look, it’s not that deeper.” You said, going down and up to the surface instantly. “Come.” You went to grab him by his arms and take him to the inside. He hugged you koala style and you started to laugh with him holding you.

You guys swam for a long time, going under the waterfall to find a cave, it was a beautiful place. Seeing your boyfriend with his colored shorts, his naked chest with marked abs and his red hair slightly wet watching the waterfall, fired you up. You reached him and kissed him on the lips, he followed you and grabbed you by your waist. You saw the ground in the kiss and thought of something, making the two of you leave the rock and placed yourself on the floor. Holding him by the neck while kissed him, you grabbed his crotch to feel his hardened growing under your touch. “Baby what a beautiful place to make you mine.” He said to you while he kissed your neck leaving wet marks from your neck to your collarbones. “No. You are going to be mine.” You answered him, making you both turn and placing yourself over him. You took off your bra letting the view of your breasts to him, who didn’t wast time and started to massage your nipples. Separating his head from the ground, he sat with you over him. You started to grind your body on his lap, trying to feel some friction. “Baby, let’s not waste time.” He told you with a deep voice, making you move while he downed his shorts to set his hard member free.

You took off your panties and place again over him, taking his member with your hands, stroking it to make it harder before you place your folds between it as he started to fill you up raising his waist. His length felt cold inside of you, and you loved the feeling, moaning in pleasure as you started to ride him, causing him to backed his head and moaned at the feeling. He grabbed you by your waist to guide you with one hand, while he touched your clit with the other one. The rock wasn’t far from your spot so he leaned on it. “Baby you’re feeling so warm. I love your pussy, it’s perfect to me and only me, right? I love you so much.” He said, grabbing you to place you over him to kiss, so you did. “You know that I love you most, right?” You confessed to him, starting to feel your orgasm growing inside of you. He really knew how to touch you in the perfect spot.

You were feeling so happy right there that you remembered all the bad things that happened before, and you felt guilty, you really loved him and you wanted him to know that. You couldn’t avoid your eyes got wetter and tears starting to fall. “Baby, why are you crying?” He stopped, but you did not. Trying to reach your highest even if you were feeling the teardrops in your closed eyes. “Don’t stop, I-ah… I want to feel you like I never had felt you. Mhm… I want you to know that I love you with all my soul.” You told him. He totally understood, and he kissed you as he started to increase his pace, making you moan louder and cum along with him. “Yes, baby, I know… please cum with my dick inside of you. I know you needed this how much as I do. Don’t cry anymore.” He said smiling and trying to breathe slower while taking out his now softened member out of you. You hugged him stronger and when you diverted the view, you saw that it was getting dark outside. “I’m sorry if I was a bitch all this time.” You said in the hug. “You’re not. You’re an angel. You were just really stressed out. I love you babe.”

You guys swam to the shore and went to the tent. It was getting colder, so both dried yourselves and changed to sweatpants and the only long sleeves tees you brought. After that you two had cuddled inside of the tent and fell asleep, hoping to find another place in the morning to enjoy more of your lovers trip adventure.

I cried, lol. I hope you guys love this story as much as I do hehe. Lots of love ❤

- Admin Min

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gukblossom-blog · 6 years

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delicate; jeon jungkook

(gif by: jengkook; please support our lovely gif makers!)

gnere: angst, fluff

word count: 3,000+

warnings: (later) implied smut, violent father figure, bullying, minor language

part 1 of 2

Y/N is at the top of her class and all of her peers gaze at her with jealousy. She is the school’s “goody-two-shoes” and has worked her whole life to maintain this image so the other students would leave her alone. There’s just one threat to her reputation: quiet track star, Jeon Jungkook. She has agreed to tutor him and tries to keep everything between them a secret. But how long can she maintain Jungkook’s want to be honest with the whole school and hide her growing feelings all at the same time?

You wait anxiously, hands stuffed in your pockets and rocking back on your heels as you glance around the corner to peek down the hallway. Where was he? You couldn’t stay here all period and wait for him; you had classes to attend. The ticking of the clock annoyed you but you sent it a wish anyways: ‘Please make him come faster.’ It was cool inside the school but your nerves caused a thin layer of sweat to collect at your temples. What were you doing here anyways? Why had you agreed to this?

You need to be in class and taking notes of your math lecture, which was going on right now. You’re tempted to leave his gym bag by the classroom door and let him find it on his own later but then you convince yourself that there might be something of value in this stupid bag of his. You continue to wait until another wave of nerves scream at you to hurry to class.

Just then, a warm hand fell on your shoulder. It shocked you, your heart skipping a beat as you raise up on your heels in response, quickly spinning around to face the figure behind you. “Hey,” Jungkook greets you with a timid smile, “thanks for waiting.” His voice is quiet and smooth and you pretend that the flutter in your chest doesn’t exist.

“Jungkook,” you say quietly, staring hard up at him before quickly shoving the bag in his chest. “Here.” You don’t miss the way his hands fly up to catch his belonging, dark eyes widening from the brusque return. He lowers his hands down, the strings of the bag hanging securely from his fingers. “Thank you,” Jungkook repeats, “really. Sorry I left it, by the way.” He rubs the back of his neck, a sure sign that he’s nervous.

“It’s fine,” you grumble, looking off to the side. “Just don’t leave it again. People might think something’s up if we meet up like this continuously.” You didn’t want anyone knowing that you were his tutor and you were much less keen on sneaking around school to return things he’d left behind at your house. Rumors are quick and they’ll ruin a reputation faster than you can the word ‘reputation’ itself. And you did have an image to keep up: one that didn’t involve boys, much less jocks. Not to mention your overly strict parents who would never let you leave the house if they heard that you’ve been sneaking around with a boy. They already constantly lectured you on the importance of keeping up grades and staying away from anything that could distract you from your “ultimate goal.” But of course he wouldn’t understand that; all he knows about is track and his small dance group.

Jungkook raises his eyebrows at you. “And what’s wrong with that?” he retorts. He’s getting defensive, you can tell, and it causes you to roll your eyes. “What’s wrong with that?” you begin but then are quickly reminded of the time slipping away; your education was at stake here. “I’m sorry,” you breathe, trying to soothe him quickly enough for you to leave, “I didn’t mean it like that.” You chewed at your bottom lip. It wasn’t like you had anything against Jungkook — you didn’t at all. He is nice and handsome and definitely a heartthrob of your school but you are reminded everyday by everything in the hallways of the school that you didn’t belong next to him; heck, you didn’t even belong enough to look in his general direction. If anyone found out about the two of you, he’d be screwed as well. You can hear the students’ whispers already. You shudder at the thought.

“It’s not like we’re dating. You’re just returning my bag.” Jungkook argues gently, looking down at you with a stare. “I know, I know,” you mumbled in return, “sorry.” You didn’t want to stand here any longer so you let him think he has won this battle but he hasn’t. Not really. “Can I go now?” you asked quietly, glancing up at him. He towers over you, strong and lean. His shoulders rise up in a shrug, a small “I guess so” leaving his lips.

“Thank you,” you sigh, feeling relieved about not having to waste anymore time.

“Wait.” Jungkook says as he reaches out to grab your wrist, “are we still meeting after school today? I have some math homework I need help with.” His tone is almost pleading but you ignore it. You nod slightly, not really caring that much; you didn’t have much to do after the school day. “Yeah. But please remember to take that home with you this time.” You motion to his gym bag that was hanging from his other hand and walk away without another word.

“And then you divide twenty by four and get….”

“Five.”

“Good. See? You can do this. Try the next one on your own.”

Jungkook is currently sitting at your dining room table, his binders and math book neatly set out in front of him. Though Jungkook is technically a third year, he is still doing second year math, which sucks for him because now he has two math classes instead of just one. His blazer is hanging on the back of his chair and his tie loosened around his neck. “I really hate this.” He mumbles like a little kid. You can’t help but smile at his childish remark even though you’re used to hearing them. “It is an important part of life whether you like it or not,” you tell him with that smug grin he hates so much. “Easy for you to say. You passed this class on the first try.” He retorts, sending you a harmless glare. “Only natural for the smartest girl in the school,” you joke. Jungkook rolls his eyes at your remark and goes back to his work.

After your session is over with and Jungkook is packing up his things to leave (not forgetting to make a big show of grabbing his gym bag), he glances up at you to ask you a question that he’s been dying to ask: “Hey, you do so much for me and you don’t get paid so I was thinking we could go out for dinner sometime. You know, just for me to show my appreciation and all.” A frown quickly graces your lips at his inquiry, a bit confused at his sudden want to take you out. “You know we can’t do that, Jungkook. Somebody might see us. Have you forgotten? Plus, I get all the appreciation needed by you doing well on your tests.”

“Why are you so concerned about being seen with me? Do you hate me that much?” He questions you harshly, sending a sharp pain in your chest. Of course you didn’t hate him; he is such a sweet boy and deep, deep, deep down you knew you had a tiny crush on him. You would love to go out with him and pretend he is yours for a few hours; however, you know this would not only hurt your feelings in the end but also damage the image your peers had of you. With the goody-two-shoes-smartest-girl-in-school image, no one bothered you. You were like some sort of god to them. Which you were totally fine with; you wanted to be left alone anyways.

“No, I don’t hate you Jungkook. I’m sorry but I just can’t go out with you like that and I’m asking you to respect my decision.” You say with the strongest tone you can muster and pretend not to notice the way his face falls. You knew he wanted to be friends with you but you couldn’t find in yourself to let him inside your little world; it could ruin everything you worked so hard for your entire life. “It’s fine, whatever,” he mumbles as he turns his back on you to walk to the front door. “But if you ever change your mind, let me know.”

The clinking of dishes being washed in the sink almost overpowered the sound of your phone buzzing but ever since your past tutoring session with Jungkook, you’ve been a sensory overload mess. Every move he made, every breath he took, you felt it all. Your feelings were a mess as well so when you saw his name and face pop up your phone, your heart jumped in your chest. You quickly dry your hands with a hand towel and rush to answer the phone. “Hello?” you say meekly into the speaker. “Hey Y/N,” Jungkook says, sounding worried. “What’s wrong?” You counter, a bit nervous because he never calls you this late. You didn’t like this strange behavior coming from Jungkook.

“Please don’t be mad,” he begs you, causing your eyebrows to meet. Your heart beats fast at his request, biting down on your lip. “What’s wrong?” You repeat. There’s no telling what he did. He accidentally let it slip out to his track teammates and dance group friends that you tutor him; he told his best friend, Taehyung, about how you rejected him and now it’s going around school; he failed his last test; he is moving back to his home town and doesn’t need you to tutor him anymore. The possible situations run around in your head and you hold your breath, suddenly very aware of the hard pounding in your chest. You anxiously wait for his reply.

“I just remembered I have a math test tomorrow and I don’t feel ready for it. I know your parents are home so can I just pick you up and we can go to the library to study? I know it’s last minute and I’m sorry. Please,” Jungkook begs, “please don’t be mad.”

The pounding in your chest slows down almost immediately and the feeling of anxiety is quickly replaced with just plain annoyance. “Jungkook,” you complain, “you should have told me! This is just ridiculous. Do you even know what time it is?!” You’re angry and annoyed at him but mostly at yourself because you know he knows you’ll say yes.

“Yes, Y/N, I know. Please. I’ll do anything. I just don’t want to fail.”

“You’re an idiot. I can’t believe this.”

“I know.”

“A test?! How could you forget a test?”

“I know.”

“You owe me one, Jeon Jungkook.”

“I know… so does that mean you will help me?”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair and glance at your parents who are seated in the living room. “Yes,” you confirm quietly. “Great!” he says cheerfully into your ear. “I’m waiting for you outside.”

“Fine,” you grumble and hang up the phone without saying goodbye.

You nervously make your way into the living room, not wanting to face your parents about something this late but Jungkook needed you so you sucked it up. “Mom, Dad, a friend needs help with their math. Can I please go to the library?” You ask as politely as you can. “Do you even know what time it is?” Your father demands and you wince. “Yes, I know,” you say carefully, clasping your hands together and holding them in front of your chest, “but they really need my help. I am all they have.”

“It’s a school night, Y/N.” He declines, not budging.

You start to worry at the point, knowing that Jungkook is waiting for you. I mean, you could always just tell your parents goodnight and sneak out the window but if you got caught… you wouldn’t be able to tutor anyone ever again, much less Jeon Jungkook.

“Oh let her go,” your mother says, setting her hand over your father’s. “You know she is a great tutor and we don’t want to be responsible for a student’s bad grade.”

Your father huffs, then gives you a grunt. That means okay. You smile wide and thank him and kiss his head. Quickly running upstairs, you grab your backpack and last year’s math book then glance around your room for anything else you might need before rushing back downstairs. You give your parents a quick goodbye and exit the house. Jungkook’s large truck is waiting in your driveway and you nervously make your way to it; something in your gut tells you this is a bad idea but you ignore it and open the car door, setting your bag in the floorboard.

“I’m so glad you’re doing this,” Jungkook greets you happily, his voice causing butterflies to roam in your intestines. “Well, I am your tutor,” you grumble and step up in the truck, closing the door behind you. He flashes you that ever famous bunny smile and backs out of your driveway. “You’re my friend too,” he says easily, eyes on the road. “Yeah, yeah,” you agree nonchalantly. You guess you two were friends since you two spent so much time together. “I really owe you a lot this semester,” he murmurs quietly. You hum in agreement, sparing a glance at his profile before watching out the window.

“Wait, Jungkook, the library is the other way,” you tell him, getting panicked. “I know,” he says calmly. You get a better look at him, now realizing he is in his track sweatpants and sweatshirt which means he just got back from a meet. You’re so confused, your eyebrows meeting. “Jungkook,” you say louder, “where are we going? Tell me now.” He looks at you, keeping up his smile. “You said you wouldn’t be mad. We’re going to dinner. We had a meet today and we won so I wanted to take you to celebrate with us.”

Anger falls in your stomach like a hot piece of pork belly. “You lied to me,” you accuse through your teeth. “Aw, c’mon Y/N, don’t get angry. Let’s just eat, okay? I want you there with me; I will even pay. Don’t worry,” he attempts to appease you but to no avail.

“Turn this damn car around, right now Jeon Jungkook!” You yell at him. He winces and gives you a wary look. “Y/N,” he begins but you yell again. “Turn it around or God so help me!”

“Okay, okay,” he says, obviously defeated. He makes the U-turn necessary to head back in the direction of your house. After your outburst of demands, you remain silent the rest of the car ride. You were fuming. Absolutely furious. How could he fool you this way? Lie to you about his stupid, spurious test. If looks could kill, he would have died twenty times by now. Your arms are crossed, half glaring at Jungkook and half glaring out the window (you took turns.) You felt the anger boil in your stomach, unable to keep your emotions in; you were so angry at him. Words can’t even describe how much you want to backhand him for what he had done. Jungkook shifts in his seat, sending a wary glance your way as he pulls in your driveway.

You didn’t even wait for his truck to stop all the way, your seatbelt already undone and hands quickly grabbing your backpack. You refused to leave Jungkook with any words from your mouth — you wanted him to suffer in the silence. You turn to open the car door with full intent of leaving without even a half hearted goodbye, since he didn’t deserve one, but he refused to unlock the car. You snort at his stubbornness, reaching up to put the little thingy that locks and unlocks your car door. He hand reaches out blocks your way causing you tense up, the snarl at him.

“What the hell, Jungkook?” You send him another deathly glare but he hardly seems phased by it now. “Why are you so mad?” He asks calmly, eyes searching for yours. The question only intensifies your anger causing you to move his hand away from your destination. “Why am I so mad?! You sure are dense, Jungkook.” The words come out like a spit fire, unlocking your car door as fast as you can. His hand now found its way to your wrist, fingers wrapping around it. The warmth that made its way up your arm causes you to stumble, a curse falling out on your mouth. You leaned your head on the cool glass of the car window.

“Come on, Y/N, let’s talk about this. I know it was wrong to lie to you but I knew you wouldn’t have came along if I didn’t,” he explains to you in a calm, soft voice. You could tell he was trying to calm you down, to get you to stop and think about his reasons but you had already considered them on the ever so silent drive home.

“Don’t you think there’s a reason for that?” you practically yell at him, turning to face him. Your mistake. His face was so close to yours you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes despite the dim lighting of his truck. You immediately lean back, full of intent of shaking him off you and snatching your hand back but his grip tightens. “You’re afraid.” He accuses you, voice low. Though his accusation was heavy, his tone was anything but; he sounded confused. He was enlightened about his discovery but his realization only made him more confused. He gazes into your eyes and asks you the question you dread so much: “What are you afraid of?”

Your heart is racing inside your chest, jaw clenched as you stay silent. You stare at him, into his eyes. His question hangs heavy in the air and you wish it could remain unanswered; however, the truth slips out of you in the smallest whisper of your entire life: “You. Me. Everyone.”

At this, Jungkook releases your hand and you take it back slowly, settling it down on your lap. Your gaze wanders south, unable to look him in the eye any longer. “Me?” he whispered, not quite understanding what you mean. “Why are you afraid of me?”

You force yourself to look up at him, thinking now is a good time to confess as any. Everything seems to be going downhill anyways. “I’m scared of you because you make me feel things I don’t want to feel. Jungkook, every time you look at me it feels like birds are in stomach. When you come up to me with that big grin on your face after you’ve just aced an exam we spent all night studying for—“ you can barely continue. Jungkook’s gaze softens but he’s unsure if he should reach out for you like he wants to; he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

“God, it’s like you have no idea. And you don’t do you? I am scared because I don’t want to have these feelings for you, okay? I’m scared of myself because what if they get too strong? What if you don’t feel the same way? What if you do?” You are rambling now but you can’t find it in yourself to stop talking, “What if everyone finds out? Everything will be ruined Jungkook; my reputation shattered. I’ve worked so hard to build these walls you just, you come along and—“

This time, you don’t interrupt yourself. Jungkook does. He leans forward quickly, so quickly he doesn’t even give you time to resister the intent of his actions. His lips are placed on top of your warm, his warm breath fanning across your pink cheeks. It’s hardly a kiss but it’s enough for you to stop talking completely.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” he mumbles, nose brushing against yours, “I’m not here to ruin you.” He sighs against your lips, hands reaching up to grip the ends of your jacket meant to keep you warm from the chill nips of the new spring’s air. Now you just feel overheated. “Could’ve fooled me,” you whisper back, lips seeking his again. It’s a real kiss this time and your hands, as if they have a mind of their own, make their way to his hair. The soft touches of his mouth against yours make the temperature in your cheeks rise; it’s overwhelming in the best way possible. When you two part, his hands stay where they were before. He confesses softly to you, “I like you a lot, Y/N. I really just want to take you out on one date. Is that too much to ask?”

“...okay.”

You don’t know what got into you, whether be his kisses or the hot temperature of his truck, but you agreed to his date. What’s the worst that could happen, after all? One measly date. That couldn’t do much, right?

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