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talas-starlight · 4 years

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Lover - Percy Jackson x Fem!reader

SUMMARY: You’ve crushed on Percy for years, him on the other hand? It’s more of a recent development. That doesn’t mean he likes you any less.

(Older Percy & reader - they're like 21) ALSO idk perfectly what happens in trials of apollo so let’s just ✨ignore that ✨ & this isn’t sexual despite what the title may suggest

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

A/N: hi friends this is for @fromthewatertribe ‘s 1k follower event!! Im sure most of you have but if not definitely check out their work!! Its soooo good I promises and ugh their Leo fic?! *chefs kiss* anyway idk if this is any good oop I tried

PROMPTS USED: 9 & 11. (they’re bolded)

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of ptsd & anxiety, kissing stuff lol ish eh idk, mentions of percabeth breakup?? Does that count?

MASTERLIST: here!

An obnoxiously red and orange light filters into the motel room, even with the old and tattered curtains closed, the motels’ sign conquers its way through the fabric. Sighing you flop yourself on the faded, probably twenty-year-old bed. Nose scrunching as some dust raises into the air, consequently letting out a sneeze.

“Bless you.”

“Did you just bless yourself?”

You winced at the reminder someone else was in the room, exhausted after the two-day travel to a motel room in the middle of whoop. “Yeah…”

“You really are something, aren’t you?” At the calm amusement evident in his tone, your heart rate began to slow down. He didn’t think you were crazy.

You let out a breathy laugh. Wow, I wonder how those stains got on the ceiling? Lava monster perhaps? Are those even a thing? Probably.

“Yeah… well, someone has to Jackson.” You glance towards him, he’s sitting at the small, poor excuse of a dining table. Heart rate picking up again as he gives you a small smile, already having his eyes on you this entire time.

“If I don’t, who will?” you continue.

“Touché. In that case, I’ll do the blessing from now on; you deserve a break.” Shooting you a wink. Instantly feeling flustered at his action, you fight the urge to cover your face with your hands.

Oh, Percy, if only you knew you’ve already been blessing me for the past six years.

“Even say…. If we’re in a battle?” you muse.

He gets up from the table and walks towards you. Once he reaches your side of the queen bed, he kneels, grabbing the hand closest to him, while putting his other on top of his heart. “Oh, y/n l/n, even with my dying breath.”

With that, you burst into a fit of laughter. This boy and his sarcasm.

You play along. “Hmmm what a great tale that will be. The one and only, Perseus Jackson, spending his final breath on sweet old y/n l/n. How dare you burden me with such a legacy to live up to! They’ll think I’m your lover, you know. Demigods all around the world will come searching for me, just to gawk at the beauty that stole your heart.”

At this point, Percy has fallen from his kneeling position, completely lying on the ground, overcome with laughter.

“This isn’t funny, Percy! How am I supposed to live with the guilt of knowing I don’t live up to their expectations?! I’m hardly a warrior either, oh the disappointment.”

Gasping for breath, he manages to find his words, “Don’t stress it y/n, you’re plenty beautiful. I just know they’ll all be stunned by your beauty. Don’t sell yourself short… trust me, once they see you, they’ll be envious that my lover was so enraptured by me that you’ll never be able to love again.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. Would that be so bad?

Gasping for breath, eventually, both of your laughs die down, leaving you both breathing heavily. “C’mon Percy, let’s get some sleep. Its going to be a long week of scouting for demigods if we’re tired.”

As Percy nods, silently getting up to go to the bathroom to change, but he can’t help but think to himself that he wouldn’t mind if he was stuck in the middle of nowhere with you. No matter how long.

It had been three days since you and Percy arrived in the town you continuously fail to remember the name of. It wasn’t the only thing you were failing at doing either, because it seemed that for some unknown reason, the school that was supposed to arrive here for their camping trip still hadn’t shown up.

“We should send an Iris message to camp. It doesn’t look like they’re showing up any time soon, and by the looks of things, we’re going to need to have them send someone for more supplies.”

Percy sighed, looking out the window. Was this the opportunity he was looking for? Maybe… he knew he’d be a stupid fool to pass it up. Swept up in his new thoughts, he never replied. “Percy?”

Without even looking at you, he nodded, turning to go to the bathroom, “Yeah sure, I’ll go into the bathroom and make the call.”

Humming in acknowledgement as he left the room, you couldn’t help but stare at the spot he was previously standing in from your position on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t look too good.

For such a great hero, you wondered if this quest was doing him any good. After the first day of scouting the campsite, it was obvious he was already antsy to get home. It seemed no matter how light you tried to keep the atmosphere; it was like something was weighing on his mind. Mostly when you were both in the motel room together, you supposed it was because he barely went on quests nowadays. Understandably so, after all, who could blame him for wanting a break and spend time with his family? This made you feel immensely guilty since you could never give him words of truly understanding what he’s gone through. You’d arrived at camp a few days before him, yet over the years you were never sent onto a major quest. It upset you greatly at first, but you grew to appreciate your time at camp.

Before your mind could delve further into its guilt and self-pity, Percy re-entered the room, sitting next to you with a huff. “It’s all good. They’re going to send Leo with some extra supplies, and he’ll help us for the rest of this quest.”

Accidentally getting swept up in how pretty his eyes were, you tensed up, realising he was staring at you expectantly. Quickly nodding and clearing your throat you looked down to your lap, “ahh, okay that sounds good. I guess we’ll have time to sightsee or something…”

Sightsee? Really y/n? There’s nothing in this stupid town!

An awkward silence filled the room. Due to your previous thoughts, you were unsure how to proceed. This was the first time you were alone with him and had nothing else better to do.

Percy on the other hand, found that the obvious swooning look in your eyes was his green light. “Uhhh actually y/n?”

Oh, please don’t ask me why I basically just drooled all over you for NO FUCKING REASON. Snapping your head back up to look at him, you desperately tried to ignore the pounding in your chest that managed to find its way into your ears, “yeah?”

“There’s something I want to ask you.”

Holy shit he knows, doesn’t he? He knows I’ve liked him this entire time, and he’s going to reject me even though I never even said anything!

“I uhm… look I know we’re kind of on a small quest and all but technically we ARE waiting for Leo and the school to arrive before we continue… and you know we kind of have like at least a day or two until then so I was just wondering…”

“Yeah, Percy? You can just say it, you know; I really don’t mind.” I do mind, but please get this over with before I cry. With your heart rate increasing at an alarming rate and face heating up so much, you wanted Zeus to blast you right then and there.

Percy felt like he was about to puke, he’d never felt this nervous before. Yeah, he had his moments growing up with Annabeth, after all, she was his first girlfriend, but this was different. He wanted this to be different. Sure, he never regretted their relationship, and yes, he knew he’d always remember everything they went through- what he went through but… he wanted a clean slate. He desperately just wanted nothing more than to know that there was at least one person in his life that wasn’t constantly fighting for their lives—someone who didn’t have to live with as much trauma as him.

“W- would you maybe... Gods, do you want to have dinner tomorrow night? Maybe at the diner further into the town?”

HOLY FUCK.

He was interested and honestly, you were over the moon. Breathing out the breath you were holding in, you fail to hide the smile on your face, “yeah, I’d like that.”

His face instantly broke out into a wide smile matching yours. “Wait really?”

Unable to hold back a small giggle, you nodded, “yeah, Percy.”

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you admire the blue dress you found in a charity shop this morning while Percy was sleeping. I can’t believe this is happening.

If you had old even more awkward 15-year-old y/n that you were about to go on a date with the boy you admired from your table during meals (when he was there), you would’ve laughed. Mainly because at that point, he didn’t even know you existed, only having your first conversation during the battle of Manhattan when you were helping Will.

Okay… lets do this.

Walking out of the bathroom, Percy is already sitting on the bed in his usual t-shirt, jeans and converse waiting for you.

“Woah… You look uh-” Never finishing his statement, worry bubbled in your chest.

“Oh, uhm… I- I can change if you’d like?

Jumping up from his place on the bed, his head shook quickly. “NO! N-no don’t do that.”

“Ah uhm… okay? Sorry, it’s just I saw it in a store earlier and uhm… it looked nice, and I just thought that maybe it’d be cool to maybe put in a bit more effort? I mean… not that you don’t look good or anything! I love what you wear, you always look nice! but I don’t know… I don’t get to look nice much and… I just wanted it to be kinda special since we don’t get to… well our lives don’t really grant us these opportunities very often. Or at least for me anyway…”

“Hey, no, it’s okay! I totally get it… you look beautiful.” After hearing your small confession and thought to prepare for your date, his heart felt like it was melting. How could someone be so thoughtful when all he was doing was taking you to a rundown diner who probably only served mediocre burgers?

A small wave of guilt washed through him. Feeling like he would never be able to truly sweep you off your feet or give you that sweet, tooth-rotting love and affection, every day, just like you deserved. After everything, he knew he could try his best but even then, he’d never be able to hide the anxiety or PTSD he had acquired over the years.

You looked up to him with a smirk. “Glad to hear it, lover.”

Cheeks heating up at your comment, he laughed trying to play it off as cool as possible. Taking a step closer to you and flattening his shirt as if it would wipe away its wrinkles, he held out his arm. “Shall we, lover?”

Matching his level of fake sophistication, you linked your arm with his, “with pleasure.”

And with that, you both walked out of the motel, with hopeful spirits. To any onlooker, you both looked like normal young adults.

“Where the fuck are you?!” Percy’s voice boomed from his end of the phone, supposedly made without any monster risks.

You winced, slowly and cautiously walking your way out of the forest. The once clean dress was now covered in dirt and had few tears. It went perfectly with your dishevelled, twig and leaf infested hair.

“Space doesn’t really exist, so I’m nowhere. Life is built on social constructs and, since there’s no way to know if we’re really alive or if it’s just an illusion, I can’t be anywhere.”

“Y/n.”

Okay, he was concerned, and you couldn’t blame him. After all, how did you expect him to react after getting separated from you as you were chased into the woods by an Empousai after dinner?

Romance at its finest.

“Yeah, sorry, I got caught up, but I’ll be there soon.”

Ending the call, you couldn’t help but feel guilty as you replayed the events that just occurred in your head. The date was amazing. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was still sweet. Which led you both to go on one of those cliché night walks. That was nice too, until two Empousai came out of the forest and decided to attack you both.

Percy being…. Well Percy, he swiftly got out riptide and didn’t hesitate to defend the two of you. You, on the other hand, were completely caught off guard only just noticing as one of them turned their focus on you while Percy was distracted.

And what did you do like the perfectly trained demigod you were?

You ran like a headless chicken into the forest.

After a few minutes of running, they tackled you into the ground. Trying and failing failed to shove them off, you suddenly remembered the dagger you strapped to your thigh under your dress and stabbed them.

Clearly not your proudest moments.

Finally making it back to the room, you unlocked the door and let out a huff of relief. “Well… that date didn’t go as expected.”

Percy, took in your current state staring at you with wide eyes… but he didn’t say anything. Is he angry at me? Fuck now he’s going to call off whatever this is, all because I’m an incompetent idiot! I knew I should have tried harder in the sparring activities at camp.

Feeling highly intimidated under his intense stare, you began to play with the hem of your dress, voice going quiet. “Look I uh- I know it probably wasn’t the date you were hoping for but I uhm-“

Before you could even finish your poor excuses, your words are soon lost entirely. Percy stalked towards you with a determined look on his face. Reaching you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your face, smashing his lips onto yours.

You let out a small, muffled squeak of surprise as your eyebrows shot up into Olympus. Yet unlike your fighting skills, this was something you managed to adapt to at a faster pace.

Eyes fluttering closed, you fisted his shirt, pulling him closer.

Please don’t let this be a dream.

Because Gods forbid if this your one chance, you weren’t letting this moment end that easily.

Moving your lips against his, the urgency he came onto you with slowly began to dissipate, feeling his soft, but slightly chapped lips move against yours. Deepening the kiss, you let go of his shirt, gliding your hands up his tense torso and along his strong arms, eventually placing your hands on his wrists that were on either side of your face. Applying a small amount of pressure to the inside of his wrists with your thumbs, his mind began to drift into a calming haze as you softly stroked them. It was almost as if you were able to brush away the worry that bubbled in him when he got back to the room, only to find you weren’t there. Yet here you were… safe.

It was intoxicating and calming having him so close to you, his entire being overcoming your senses to a point where you fought the urge to let out a small whimper when he pulled away.

Resting his forehead against yours, chest rising and falling heavily flushed against you; he continued to hold you in his warm embrace. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” He whispers, breath fanning against your face.

Because as much as Percy was afraid he’d let you down, he knew no matter what you were worth every single risk.

“…but I’m going to have to teach you a few things when we get back to camp. We can’t have my lover running away in battle all the time, how will I know if you sneeze?”

Letting out a snort, you playfully hit his chest. “Anything for you, lover.”

A soft smile graces his face as he looks at you adoringly as the word takes on a whole new meaning… because you were right. He’d do anything.

A/N: whelp! i hope you all liked it :)) its not perfect but oh well?

also i dont have a percy jackson taglist but i gotta tag the holy grail of fic writers for this fandon eep @cabinofimagines 🙈 🙈

Divider credit: @biskit-rising

#percy jackson #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x fem!reader #annabeth #annabeth chase #leo valdez #heros of olympus #hoo #nina's 1k event #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson angst

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alinastracker · 3 years

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I MADE SOME BREAKFAST IF YOURE HUNGRY for my beloveds pls if u so wish

ANYTHING FOR U MY LOVE

Better Late Than Never

Mal had been half-watching a replay of the England-Scotland game, half falling asleep the previous night when his phone sent him jolting awake.

Beep-beep, is that my bestie in a Tessie? Fresh blow out, skin on tan, ooh, she ready Bitch, you look goodt, with a T at the end I'ma hype her every time, that my motherfuckin' friend

He knew from the ringtone alone who was calling, so where normally he might pause before taking a call — he'd go mental talking to one more damn scammer — Mal answered instantly, fumbling to bring the phone up to his ear.

"'Ello," he answered, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He quickly checked the time on his phone and frowned. 12:30 AM. His roommate slash best friend slash unrequited love of his life never called this late. She was either already home, sitting beside him on the couch watching a bad movie, or settled in her destination for the night. Genya's. Inej's. That asshole she'd been hooking up with.

"Mal?" Alina said, her voice shaky. It sounded like she was crying.

He was up in an instance, already moving to the door, stuffing his feet into slides and grabbing his keys, any thought of sleep long forgotten.

"Send me your location."

By the time she did, he was already in the car, flooring it out of the building's parking garage. Alina was sniffling, trying to hide just how upset she was. But he knew, he always knew.

"Did he hurt you, 'Lina?"

"Mal—"

"I swear, I'll kick his ass. I can call Nikolai for backup, but I'm sure I can take him on my own."

"Can you stop being a stereotypical man for five seconds, please."

He sighed. "Right, 'course. Sorry." Mal glanced at the GPS on his phone. Thank the saints she was close. "I'm five minutes away. Do you want me to stay on with you?"

"No," Alina said, followed by another sniffle that only made him drive faster. "Just hurry. And can we get chips?"

Twenty minutes later, they were back at the flat, Alina with a McDonald's bag and chocolate milkshake in her hands. Her makeup was smeared all over her face, a mess of black smudges. How dare her, he thought, still look so fucking beautiful.

Mal had tried asking her what happened, but she'd only shaken her head.

"I don't want to talk about it," she had said, her voice so delicate that he nearly turned the car around and let toxic masculinity win this round.

Instead he took her to get her food, then drove them home. Let her lock herself in her room, and by the sounds of it, cry some more.

It was morning now and Mal was standing in nothing but his old plaid jim-jams, fixing up breakfast for the two of them. Crepes, because he knew she loved her sweets, and hash browns, just in case she still had a hankering for potatoes. He got out their old wooden serving tray they only ever used when one of them — or more often, both of them — were sick and wanted soup in bed. Mal stacked up the crepes, piled on the hash browns, bringing all the sugary syrup and wicked hot sauce she liked for the respective items, and knocked on her bedroom door.

Alina appeared a few moments later. She was still wearing last night's clothes, her hair up in a clip yet still all over the place, some of the makeup still holding out on her face. She looked tired, and he wondered how much she had actually slept.

"What's this?" she asked, the hint of a smile on her face.

Mal shrugged. "Err, I made some breakfast, if you're hungry?"

"Crepes and hash?"

He nodded.

She smiled a real smile then — the smile he liked to think she saved for him alone, but he knew better. Alina motioned for him to follow her in, and they settled on her bed together.

"This is all for me?" she asked, holding up the single fork he'd brought along. When he nodded, she laughed. "Mal, this is enough food for an army. Go get a fork, you dork." She backed up the statement by poking his side, and Mal blushed.

A moment later, he was back with a fork, and for a while, the two of them ate in silence.

When they had reached the point of only picking at the remaining food, he asked, "Do you want to talk about last night?"

Alina sighed. "I do suppose I owe you an explanation."

"You don't owe me anything," Mal said. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

She looked down, fiddling with the end of her dress. The fabric had started to bunch up, exposing so much of her thigh and — no, nope, this is not the moment, Malyen.

Blowing out a breath, she said, "I went there for a hook up. You probably guessed that. But, I don't know. When it came to actually . . . hooking up, something in me just didn't want it." She was still looking anywhere but his face. "And I told him that, and he stopped. He didn't try — it wasn't like that. But he got really, really angry. Said I had no right coming over and drinking his alcohol and dressing the way I did just to hold out. And then I started crying and he got even angrier."

Mal couldn't help it. He pushed the breakfast tray away and wrapped his arms around her. Alina relaxed against him, tucking her head under his chin. She always had been tiny like that.

"I was just really scared. So I ran out and I called you. That's it, that's all that happened. It was my fault—"

"Don't you dare," he whispered into her hair. "It's not remotely your fault, Alina. I don't care what you drank or how you dressed. You should know that more than anyone, miss self proclaimed raging feminist."

Alina laughed, and it was better than any song he'd ever heard. Just hearing her laugh after last night, after hearing how upset she had been. He hadn't really relaxed, he realized, until that exact moment, with her safe and laughing in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Mal," she said softly, taking him by surprise.

"Sorry for what?"

"For doing this to you, every time. Any mess that I get myself into, I always call you, and you're always there. Every time."

"Of course, 'Lina. You don't have to apologize." Mal swallowed the lump in his throat and hoped she hadn't noticed. "That's what best mates do, huh?"

"Right," she muttered. "Best mates."

"You don't sound very pleased with that," he teased, disguising the sting in his chest.

The room was dark for a Sunday morning, storm clouds ruining any chance for sunlight. But he could still see the look on Alina's face as she pulled back, the same look she got when she was doing something new, whether it be riding his skateboard for the first time or asking out a stranger, nervous but determined.

"You're right," she said, softly, firmly. "I'm not pleased with that."

Time was moving too fast. In a blink, Alina was closer than ever, pressing her lips to his. And like an idiot, he froze.

She pulled back when he failed to respond, disappointed but not defeated. "Sorry," she said. "There's a reason none of my hook ups have been working lately, and I just had to try."

Mal shook his head, trying and failing to form words. So he forced time to slow and kissed her instead. Softly, firmly. An exploration he had imagined so many times, and none of them held a light to the real thing.

Alina curled her arms around his neck, pressing herself closer. She was so soft, from her lips to where his hand rested on the small of her back. When she ran her tongue along his lower lip, Mal opened for her, and they moaned into each other. She tasted sweet from the syrup with the occasional lick of heat from the hot sauce. Though there was plenty of the latter between them already.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment when they finally pulled away, sucking air into their lungs. But their eyes were locked, and after all these years, they never needed words.

Alina was on him again in moments, their kiss no longer soft and sweet, but hard and desperate. Mal bit down on her lower lip, she felt her way across his bare chest, left scratches down his back when he started kissing her neck.

He's not sure which one of them kicks the breakfast tray off the bed. Maybe they both had a role. But at the sound of crashing dishes, they broke apart once more.

"Oops," Alina mumbled.

"Shit," Mal breathed. "We should probably clean that."

"Yeah, 'suppose. Ants or whatever."

A moment of silence stretched between them as neither made a move toward the mess on the floor.

"I mean, the ants won't move too fast," Mal reasoned.

"Not at all. We're on the third floor, anyway."

One look, and Mal reached for her again. Alina giggled as his mouth found her neck once more, her hand taking hold in his hair, directing him. Meanwhile, he was positive he currently had the most throbbing erection of his life. As if sensing this, Alina rolled her hips against his, and when she gasped, he knew she had felt it.

"'Lina—"

"Saints, Mal. You're . . . wow."

He was blushing again. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Why the hell are you sorry?"

"Because you were just talking about that twat pressuring you for sex! Not exactly time for the erection from hell!"

Alina laughed. "Mal, I didn't want fuck him. But I've wanted to fuck you for five years."

"Well now you tell me."

They both laughed then, and Alina pulled him into another kiss.

"Better late than never?"

Mal groaned as she rolled her hips again. "Definitely."

That morning, after living in their flat for three years, Mal and Alina got their first noise complaint.

Two Months Later

Mal was half-asleep, half-watching some shitty horror movie on a lazy Sunday afternoon, when the sound of his phone had him jolting awake.

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my Lover

He didn't have to check before answering. Mal knew exactly who was calling.

#malina #malina fanfic #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #fanfic #writing #grishaverse fanfic #oretssev #userseva #I HOPE U ENJOY THIS MY LOVE

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years

Text

Disclosed

Pairing: Bakugou x reader x Kirishima

Warnings: Like, two sex jokes? Nothing that crazy. Once again, gay, bi and poly as fuck. Oh and language too.

Author’s note:

So uh, I guess this ends the saga of Little Secret. I’m still doing Kiribaku fics, but I guess I just had a bit of a theme going here in this trilogy. I tried to focus more on Eijirou in this one since he kind of got pushed to the side a bit in the other two stories. Little Secret had more of y/n’s omniscience, while Big Secret was more Bakugou driven (big brain hehe).

You can probably ignore the ending of this since it’s really really cheesy and it was the only thing I could think of at the time I wrote it (I think this is another one of my fics that I finished at 3 am or something).

Anyhow, I’d say this is my favorite part of the trilogy in some ways! It’s super soft and fluffy, and I really like how I wrote it out. I seriously hope you enjoy it!

I love you guys!

-Sugar

☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆.☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆

As much as Kirishima loved being a hero, honestly, he loved his days off more.

He watched from in front of the counter as you amicably bickered with Bakugou, bustling around the kitchen still in your respective pajamas.

"I'm just saying we could have something other than cinnamon rolls for breakfast," the blond man pouted, tailing you as you walked from the fridge to the oven.

"It'll be fun," you said. "Geez, we don't have to keep up with that hero diet you set up every day. It's our day off, let me have my sugar and carbs."

Bakugou began to grumble something about the amount of chemicals that were probably in the pre-made pastry dough, but you paid him no heed. The little cheerful beeping tones of the oven sounded through the room as you set the temperature.

"How long is that going to take?" Kirishima asked.

"Like half an hour," you said. "Need a snack 'til then? We need to eat these oranges before they go bad."

"Sure, I'll take one." You tossed the orange fruit to him, which he caught easily and began to peel.

"You want one, 'Tsuki?"

Bakugou grumbled a "Fine" and you handed him his, taking a third for yourself.

Normally, you may have been able to wait until the sweet pastry rolls were done, but instead you'd spent the last two hours very slowly waking up and cuddling in bed.

As per usual, Katsuki had woken up first, letting his eyes adjust to the warm tones the room had taken on with the rising of the sun. He remembered today was his day off, and a final bout of tension left his shoulders. His back had previously been pressed against Eijirou's, but now he decided to turn himself over to face him. Peeking through scarcely opened lids, Bakugou glimpsed your form on the other side of Kirishima, scarcely visible as you snuggled into his chest. Bakugou allowed himself something he only saved in silent, private moments like this: a smile. Just a small one, barely even lifting the side of his mouth. But he couldn't help it. The sight of his perfect boyfriend and girlfriend fast asleep in each others' arms brought him such an overwhelming feeling of compersion, he simply couldn't help himself.

Bakugou draped an arm over Kirishima's side, rubbing at your forearm with gentle strokes of his fingers. You hummed in your sleep, pushing yourself even closer into the red-haired man holding you. The blond breathed in Eijirou's heavy, musky scent, letting it flood his nose and instill a sense of unparalleled calm over himself.

The shifting motions on either side of him caused Eijirou to begin to blink his own eyes open, shedding the foggy haze of sleep from his mind. Dreams from his previous night's rest danced and fleeted at the edges of his memory, before they were ultimately discarded and lost to the unrelenting abyss that is abandoned remembrance. He felt warm. Warm, and comfortable, and happy, and perfect.

Eijirou noticed the steady movement of the arm placed over him, signaling that Bakugou was awake. You, on the other hand, slept on; eyes lightly closed, lips parted with breath, gently clasping the front of his shirt. Kirishima slowly pressed a kiss to your forehead, followed by another and then another.

His soft lips combined with the soothing motions of Katsuki's hand finally brought you smoothly out of your slumber, groaning a bit in your consciousness.

"You two awake yet?" Bakugou's voice sounded from over Kirishima's broad shoulders. It was a little gruffer than usual from sleep and it made you smile.

"Yeah," Kirishima answered for you, meeting your (E/C) orbs with his own.

You pulled your arm from under Bakugou's hand, moving it until your fingers were able to intertwine and lock with his over Eijirou's side. He felt safe under your loving union, tying yourselves together over him so the three of you became one unit.

That was how your morning had started. For a long time, the three of you laid there, chatting in low tones as you and Katsuki snuggled into either side of Eijirou, who later turned to lie on his back to tuck each of you under an arm. The experience was nothing other than peaceful, the three of you content to simply lay in each others' presence.

Ever since that one fateful afternoon nearly two years ago, your lives could scarcely have improved more. Inviting Bakugou into your relationship was the best decision you'd made, and now here you were. The three of you had graduated from UA and begun your lives as heroes; Eijirou still worked as an indispensable sidekick under Fatgum, while Bakugou was still in the process of getting a hero agency of his own off the ground. But today was a day you had settled on to spend completely together, and it was all going just wonderfully.

Somehow, the idea had gotten into your head that you'd make cinnamon rolls for breakfast, so once you and your boyfriends eventually crawled out of bed, you set about fulfilling the urge.

Kirishima popped another orange slice into his mouth, watching you absentmindedly as you pulled out everything you would need. Which, to say, wasn't much, seeing as you were simply baking them from a can. As you pulled out the pan and cooking spray, Eijirou's red eyes flicked over to Bakugou, who had removed the cardboard tube from the fridge again. The redhead fought back a smirk as he watched his shared boyfriend scowl at the ingredients, thinking back to his almost monthly 'your body is a temple and you should treat it as such' lectures he'd give the two of you.

You caught sight of him as well, striding towards him and plucking the container from his hands. Bakugou started grumbling again, turning and exiting the kitchen to presumably go get dressed or something.

Kirishima took the opportunity to come up behind you as you popped the cardboard cylinder open, letting the preformed dough puff up as it met the air. His arm wrapped loosely around your waist as he bent a little to place his head on your shoulder. "Need help with anything?" he asked.

"No, thanks," you said, taking the unbaked rolls and filling your pre-sprayed pan.

He hummed and straightened, moving so he could lean against the counter. He noticed your orange next to him, partially peeled and abandoned. Taking one of the remaining slices from his own, he held it out towards you. "Hey, babe."

You turned and caught sight of it, smiling as you took the little slice between your teeth. You pulled it into your mouth as he pushed from his end, and you began to chew. "Mmm, that one's good."

Eijirou grinned back in agreement and ate the last slice. He reached for your abandoned one, working his nails beneath the pliable peel. "So what made you buy cinnamon rolls? Other than the fact that they're delicious, that is."

"Cold nostalgia," you said, tweaking the dough in the filled pan so it looked right. "I saw them at the store and thought to myself, 'Hey, I remember eating those. I could totally make them myself. Tasty.' Also I thought you might like them. We can all share." You picked up the pan in one hand and carried it to the oven, checking that it was the right temperature and sliding them in.

"I'm not sure about Katsuki," Eijirou said, picking some of the white fibers off another orange slice. "He didn't seem too thrilled."

"Meh," you said, fingers tapping out twenty-seven minutes on the oven timer, bringing more happy beeps to your ears. "If he doesn't eat any of them, there's just more for us, I guess. But you know how he is. You think he'll crack in front of us or wait until we leave?"

Eijirou smiled as you walked back to him, running your hands up his sides affectionately as you grinned up at him. "I'll bet one of us will find him having one in the middle of the night," he wagered.

"You're on," you giggled, swiping another orange slice from him.

"Hey! I would have given you some if you had asked, you know."

"Oops." You slid the slice slowly into your mouth, keeping your eyes on his own. A burst of sweet citric juice filled your mouth as you bit down, and you shut your eyes for a second just to fully enjoy it.

The sensation of a finger poking at your nose caused your lids to flutter open. Your eyes crossed to look at the offending digit, rolling back up and focusing on Eijirou's face.

"Bep," he said, the note accompanying his action.

You booped his nose in unhostile revenge, beginning to giggle as a mini-war began. Eijirou used the pad of his pointer finger to jab lightly at your face, making a new sound effect with each one. You had the advantage since both of your hands were free; tapping both your index fingers on his torso, face, and shoulders.

"Boop."

"Beep."

"Bap."

Bakugou shuffled back into the kitchen and watched your cheerful assaults on one another, both his cheeks and his heart warming at the sound of your giggles. "What the hell are you two doing?"

"Being in love," Eijirou said, proceeding to poke at your cheek. "Get over here, Katsu."

Bakugou just tched and wandered over to the oven to look at the baking rolls. "Dumbasses."

"Better hurry up, 'Tsuki," you said, stepping closer to Eijirou. "Or else you're going to miss out on the kisses."

"Oooooh-," Kirishima drew out for a second before your lips met his. He reciprocated, noting how you both shared the same orange-citrus taste. Out of curiosity, he peeked his eyes open to meet Bakugou's.

The blond man scowled, finally stomping over to you. "Fine. But I'm going in the middle." He wedged himself between you two.

"Yay!" Your arms wound around his slim waist, resting just above his hips. Your lips attached themselves to the base of Bakugou's neck, while Kirishima smooched at his mouth. It was quiet and sweet for a moment, each partaking in another's lips until you were satisfied, swapping positions when necessary.

You separated from Bakugou, running your thumb over his cheekbone for a moment as you looked into his eyes. He'd gotten better about asking for and receiving affection over the years you'd been dating, but it still brought warmth crashing through your system every time.

"Eiji Baby?" you asked, keeping your eyes on Bakugou.

"Yeah?"

"How much time is left on the oven?"

Kirishima glanced up at the glowing digits. "Eighteen minutes."

You hummed. "I'll get started on the icing for my rolls."

"Our rolls," Eijirou corrected, grinning at your over-the-shoulder eye roll you gave him as you made your way to the pantry to grab some powdered sugar.

Bakugou had the same reaction as you, tsking under his breath and moving to lean against the counter next to Kirishima. His position wasn't held long however, since you soon returned with your bag of sugar and the carton of milk, shooing them away so you could use the space. You pulled down a bowl and poured in some sugar and milk, beginning to mix it into a thick liquid with a spoon.

"Need a taste tester?" Kirishima asked hopefully.

"Eiji, this is pure sugar."

He glanced back at the ingredients. "Yeah."

There was something undeniably satisfying about watching the powder mix with the milk, going from fine and crumbly and turning into a sweet liquid mixture to later be drizzled over your pastries.

Maybe it was the motions of your hand as you manipulated the spoon. Maybe it was the ambiance of the room, surrounded by the two men you loved and planned to spend the rest of your life with. Either way, the song that had quietly been thrumming at the back of your mind wandered to the front, and the next thing you knew, you were humming.

Bakugou and Kirishima looked up at the sound of your voice, small smiles spreading their lips. Eijirou recognized the tune you were quietly singing to yourself, quickly adding his voice to your own. Your cheeks heated when you met his eyes, yet you continued to hum along with him. For a moment, you were both content with hitting the notes (or at least, trying to in some people's cases) wordlessly. But then you came upon the chorus, and it was as though you simultaneously reached a shared agreement that it should be belted out properly.

"S'GONNA TAKE A LOT TO DRAG ME AWAY FROM YOUUUU! THERE'S NOTHING THAT A HUNDRED MEN OR MORE COULD EVER DO! I BLESS THE RAINS DOWN IN AFRICAAAA—"

Bakugou watched you with an expression of general disgust and confusion. This was an act, of course, for the most part. He could never quite get used to the spontaneous concerts you both would occasionally throw, singing whatever obnoxious song that came to your minds. You probably only had one brain cell between you two, and it was a tossup of who got it for the day. But there was something about it that made his heart stir and his neck prickle. Maybe it was the absolute glow about Kirishima as he threw back his head to belt out lyrics. Maybe it was the way you had taken the spoon out of the icing bowl, singing at it as if it were a microphone. Bakugou would die before he ever joined in, but he never objected to watching.

The moment the song finished, you started on another. Kirishima turned to you as a new idea struck you. You lifted your hands to a sort of air guitar, playing a bit of the intro to the song in your head before beginning to sing again:

"We're no strangers to love. You know the rules, and so do I~"

Kirishima smiled, liking the way you thought. He admired your sense of humor and how well you went along with goofing off with him. The redhead let you sing the first verse, dancing around the kitchen space from him to Bakugou, looking at each of them as you sang some of the lyrics and wiggling your eyebrows.

It wasn't long before Eijirou jumped in again, joining you as you sang to Katsuki. "Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and, desert you~"

Eijirou took your spoon as you rocked out on your personal invisible guitar, going to town on chords that didn't exist.

Bakugou fought down the butterflies swarming in his stomach at the sight of you two having fun. You would lean against him and grin up into his face from one side, while Kirishima draped an arm over his shoulders and passionately sang into your spoon. Katsuki noticed that some of the icing had dripped down onto his hand, but the redhead seemed to not have noticed.

You paused to giggle at Kirishima, who started taking the song as seriously as he could. His eyes were squeezed shut, fist curled into a ball as he drew out some of the lyrics as though it were so much more than an old-timey memed love song. You let your voice fade as he did his own thing, only offering it as further back up vocals. Eventually, he reached the final reiteration of the chorus, and let himself riff on the final lines as a finisher. When he was done, he opened his eyes, finding that he had even kneeled down on the floor a little in his passion. He stood and grinned, and you enthusiastically applauded his performance.

"That was for you, babes!" he said, pointing at his small audience of two.

Bakugou scoffed, but you could hear how it was a little choked from how cute he had found it. The liar. Both you and Eijirou could see how his cheeks had changed a few shades darker right in front of you.

Kirishima strolled confidently back up to you, swooping each of you into an arm and kissing Katsuki full on the lips without warning. Bakugou's eyes widened at the contact, cheeks burning even more than before. Eijirou pulled back with a satisfying smack of his lips, diving in to give you the same treatment. As per usual, you were more receptive to the kiss, more than happy to throw your arms around his neck and partake in his lips.

"Enjoy the song, there?" you teased once you pulled back, tracing your fingers under his jawline.

"Hell yeah!" Eijirou flashed those perfect sharp little teeth of his in yet another heart-stopping grin. Did he have any idea what that smile did to both Bakugou and you? He had to know it turned your hearts to pure hot chocolate, right?

"Got a song rec, Bakubabe?" you asked, turning to your blond boyfriend. "You mustn't be excluded from our concert on this fine morning."

Katsuki rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Doesn't matter anyway because your shit rolls are almost done."

You glanced at the oven timer, which was, in fact, counting down the seconds until it went off. "Ha ha ha! My children!"

You slid out of Eijirou's hold to grab your oven mitt out of its drawer. The oven went off with a drawn-out beep the moment you stepped up to it, cracking the door open and taking a peek inside. A wonderful smell hit you in the face along with a gust of hot air, and the sight of six perfectly golden cinnamon rolls greeted you.

"Look at them!" you said as you pulled them out with your mitted hand. You turned off the oven and canceled the timer before walking back to the counter to let the pan cool.

"Can I ice them?" Eijirou asked, coming up behind you to get a good look.

"Not yet. They have to cool first."

"Aww, man."

You pulled out a new spoon to use for frosting, since the previous one had been breathed all over. Next you began to clear off the counter, picking up any pieces of orange peel abandoned from breakfast.

Kirishima leaned against the counter again, taking a deep breath of the cinnamon roll smell that had flooded the kitchen. "I love it when you bake, (Y/N)," he said. "It's so much fun. The kitchen smells great, everything always tastes great—"

"Always?" you asked skeptically with a smirk.

"I guess there was that one time," he admitted. "That was—that was probably not a very good idea."

"If it weren't for me," Bakugou cut in, "you would have burned the whole house down."

"An artist must experiment with her craft." You flipped your hair a bit, turning back to your kitchen maintenance. There wasn't much to do. Between both yours and Bakugou's preference for a neat house, your counters usually stayed pretty clear.

Eijirou glanced at the bowl of icing, dipping the tip of his finger into the white mixture. "You know what this looks like?"

"No," you and Bakugou said at the same time firmly, understanding what he meant immediately.

"Shot down," Eijirou said. "You're right, that wasn't that good."

You putzed for another minute, finally hovering your hand over the cooling pan. "That should be good enough."

You had Eijirou harden the tips of his fingers to hold the pan as you began moving the rolls out onto a plate. He started humming again as you drove the spatula under the baked goods.

"Seriously?" Bakugou asked, having inched closer to watch. "Again with the singing?"

"I've got a song in my manly, chivalrous heart," Kirishima said, turning to grin at him. "Can't help it. I'm in the zone."

"I'm liking this zone," you said. "It's fun."

You pushed the icing bowl to Eijirou and took out another spoon for yourself, dipping it in and allowing the sugary liquid to drizzle over the golden brown confections. Kirishima did the same on his own, still humming the tune of Be A Man from Mulan and nodding his head to the individual notes. You danced along with him, moving your hips to his favorite Disney song.

Kirishima's eyes wandered down to your swaying movements. You really did wear those shorts nicely.

You jumped at the sensation of a large hand gently grabbing at your butt. Turning, you saw Eijirou's slight smile on his lips. "Eiji?"

"What?"

"Didn't you get enough last night?"

Kirishima shrugged, finally removing his hand. "Can't a man admire his woman's perfect body?"

You rolled your eyes, tapping the sugar-coated spoon to his nose.

He blinked at the cold sticky sensation, going cross-eyed in an attempt to look at the drop of icing. "Yeah, I probably deserved that."

You smirked and rolled your eyes as you went back to icing your cinnamon rolls, watching Eijirou out of the corner of your eye. He was trying to figure out if his tongue was long enough to lick it off the tip of his nose, but so far, of course, he was having difficulties.

"Idiot," Bakugou said, taking Kirishima's chin and turning his face to his. He captured the sweet white droplet between his lips and swiped his tongue over it.

Kirishima's eyes widened at the gesture. "Katsuki?"

"What?" Bakugou shot him a teasing grin. "You had something on your face."

You chuckled at the two of them, tearing off a roll from the bunch. Eijirou noticed your action and took one for himself, cheeks a little pinker than usual. Bakugou watched as you both bit down.

Eijirou bounced a little on his toes as he chewed the sweet bread. "So good!"

You smiled and nodded in agreement. "Mhm!"

Bakugou looked from you to Kirishima, then to the plate of warm rolls.

"Sure you don't want one, Katsuki?" you asked. "They're pretty good."

The blond sighed, finally grabbing a roll for himself. "It's too late to be cooking breakfast now."

"He cracked!" you said, turning your gaze to Kirishima.

"Did not." Bakugou aggressively took a large bite out of his cinnamon roll.

"You said you weren't going to have any." You cocked your head at him, taking another bite of your own.

"Did I?" Bakugou smirked at you and licked a bit of frosting off his lip.

You thought back for a moment. Maybe he hadn't. He'd certainly acted like it though.

"Well, do you like it?" you prodded.

"Sure." Bakugou shrugged and examined the cross-section of his roll. "Probably would have been better if you'd actually made it yourself."

You folded your arms. "Too much work. I wanted a cinnamon roll and they had them in the store. Simple as throwing them in the oven."

"But the preservatives," he argued.

"But my lacking baking skills. Besides, now I'll live forever."

"Hah? That's not how that works, dumbass."

"Well, I think they're perfect." Eijirou cut in. He put an arm around you and Katsuki and pulled you into either side of him. "You've got the spice—" he kissed Katsuki on his cheek, "—and you've got the sugar." He kissed your cheek.

"What the fuck, Shitty Hair."

"I'm not always sugar," you half-heartedly protested, snorting a little at his cheesiness and ignoring Bakugou.

Eijirou paused for a second, considering. "Yeah, okay. But . . . my metaphor."

"Your metaphor is stupid."

You swatted at Katsuki. "Oh, shut up. What are you in this situation, Eiji?"

He thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"Hmm . . . maybe you tie us together," you said, beginning to run your fingertips over his forearm. "Roll us up tight in your arms."

Both Kirishima and Bakugou blinked at you for a moment, cheeks dusted a shade darker than normal.

"So we're a cinnamon roll?" Kirishima asked.

"Ye—"

"I AM NOT A CINNAMON ROLL!" Katsuki shuffled against Eijirou's arm without really trying to get away.

"I think you are," you said. "What do you say, Eiji? He's an adorable smol bean—"

"No."

"—too precious for this world—"

"NO."

"—protecc at all costs—"

Bakugou threw the remaining third of his cinnamon roll at you, and it bounced off your head onto the floor.

"HEY—!"

He slipped out of Kirishima's arm for real this time, making an advance towards you. You ducked out of the redhead's hold too, running off to the living room.

"I PUT MY HEART AND SOUL INTO THOSE ROLLS, KATSUKI!" you called behind you.

"Sure."

"JUST ADMIT YOU'RE MY PRECIOUS BABY CINNAMON ROLL."

"Never!"

Eijirou listened to the sounds of his partners chasing each other through the house. Finishing off his morning treat, he smiled, thinking about how lucky he was to have the two of you. You no longer hid anything from each other, and everything was laid out in the open. Your futures were bright, and Kirishima knew in his heart that you'd forever be happy as long as you were together. From now on, your feelings would remain disclosed.

☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆.☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆

[Big Secret]

[Little Secret]

Taglist: @loxbbg @runrabbitrun3 @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @sokkasangel @xoxopam4

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kiribaku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #sugar fics

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aliendes · 4 years

Text

BTS reaction to daddy kink

From this ask: can we get a reaction to daddy kink pls? Ty!

Hi, full disclosure: I am not fond of daddy kink stuff (i say before i wrote this), for myself. I have absolutely nothing against someone having it, obvi I’m writing about it, but I just thought you should know I have zero experience with this cause it’s not my cup of tea, so it might be horrible. I’m sorry lol. I tried to make these all pretty different, but at the end of the day, it’s the same kink so sorry if it seems repetitive! Also, I know Yoongi’s is a real light daddy kink, but that Yoongi is the Yoongi we all need when we’re feeling stressed, amiright? unedited as per usual. ENJOY!!

Warnings: daddy kink, bdsm themes, unprotected sex (wrap it up bois), fingering, use of toys, oral (m&f receiving), cockwarming but it’s a punishment muahaha, cum eating, spanking, cuckolding & voyeurism but it kinda turns into a threesome oops but it’s super wholesome and like kinda cute?

Word count: 3.7k ~ woooooo

You and Jin were backstage at a music show the boys were performing at later, catching up before he had to get his makeup done. It started innocent enough, walking around the hallways, talking about weekend plans, until you decided to tease him a little bit. You would let your hand brush up against his crotch, bend over in front of him seductively, or bite at his earlobe. After a little while of your teasing, Jin had had enough and pulled you into a supply closet, demanding you get on your knees.

Really, this is exactly what you wanted. You wanted to help him relax a little before this performance, since he was a little nervous about this new choreography. And what better way to do that than to suck your boyfriend off in a closet?

“Fuck, princess,” he moaned, quietly, head falling back against a shelf, “you little tease. This is what you wanted, isn’t it, naughty girl.”

You nodded your head up and down as best you could with his massive cock shoved down your throat. Your eyes were watering as the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat with each bob of your head, a burning sensation growing in your jaw. But you didn’t care, you were relishing in the fact that your boyfriend was falling apart above you.

Jin’s hand came up from his side and tangled into your head, pushing you harder onto his cock, nose brushing against his pubic bone, as you gagged a little, “Fuck, so messy,” he grunted, “whose cock makes you this messy, princess?”

He was looking down at you, expecting an answer. You popped off his dick, his hand in your hair relaxing a bit, “You, daddy,” your voice was a little rugged, “only you.” Your voice was a little whiny and he loved it, pushing your head back onto him. You took his length inside your wet mouth again, swallowing once he was fully seated in your throat.

“God, princess,” he was close, you could tell by the way his hips were starting to roll and his words were slurring, “you suck daddy’s cock so well.” You moan around his cock, pulling a groan from his lips and he squeezes his eyes shut. “M’cumming,” his words were stuttered, breathless.

Jin pushed your face hard onto his dick, cumming in hot spurts down your throat. You greedily swallowed around him, taking every last drop he offered to you, before pulling off of him with a ‘pop’. He was panting, trying to catch his breath as he offered you a hand to pull you up. Once you were on your feet, he pulled you into a sweet kiss.

“Thank you, princess,” he mumbles into your mouth, “I really needed that.”

“I know,” you said with a wink.

Mornings are your favorite time of day with your boyfriend, Yoongi. He was always so busy during the day, even late into the night when he spent time at his studio, rather than at your shared apartment. But eventually, he would find his way back home to you, and mornings were a guaranteed moment to spend together.

This morning, Yoongi is fast asleep next to you, light snores coming from his slightly open mouth. The morning sun is streaming in through the parted blinds of your master bedroom, highlighting Yoongi’s sharp jawline. You adore moments like this, being able to just enjoy him without having to share him with anyone else, or having him be pulled away for this or that.

Carefully, you reach your hand out and brush his dark hair out of his face, a soft smile on your face. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath and you startle for a moment, before he opens his eyes, squinting at you. “Morning,” he grunts as he rolls on his back, patting his chest as an invitation, “I missed you.”

You quickly crawl over to him, slotting yourself right on top of him, straddling his hips. As you seated yourself on top of him, you felt his morning wood brush up against your panty clad core, sending a shot of arousal through you and pulling a soft moan from his lips. Smirking down at your boyfriend, you roll your hips lightly into him. “I missed you too,” you lean down to place a kiss on his lips before whispering, “daddy.”

A dark look takes over his features as he trails his hands over the globes of your ass, giving a gentle squeeze. You were both still tired, sex usually pretty lazy in the morning. “Mmm, baby girl,” he moans, massaging your ass cheeks with his large hands, “what do you want?”

You whine as one of his hands slips lower, brushing against your core momentarily. “I’m sleepy,” you pout, pushing your bottom lip out slightly.

He chuckles at your disposition, fingertips still tickling your center. “Let me make you feel good, yeah?” he questions, fingers teasing the hem of your cotton panties. You lean down and press your lips softly against his.

“Ok,” you whisper, nodding your head and brushing your noses together, “make me feel good daddy.”

Yoongi lets out a low growl, pushing your panties to the side and stroking his fingers up and down your slit. It’s soft and sweet, the way he rubs your pussy. He’s not trying to get you off, just trying to make you feel good, just like he promised. You whimper against his lips, kissing him softly, no tongue, no teeth. Just sweet kisses.

“Feel good?” he asks, punctuating it with a kiss.

He slips a single finger into your heat, languidly stroking against your walls. “Mmm,” you moan, “yes, so good.” You weren’t even trying to play a role at this point, the pleasure he was giving you so real, you were getting lost in the moment. He kisses you again, smiling against your lips.

The two of you spend your morning just like that, kissing each other and making eachother feel good with light touches and massages. Mornings really were your favorite times to spend with your boyfriend.

Hoseok was seated at his desk chair inside his studio, typing away at his computer. It was a normal day for him, other than the fact that he had his dick out and you were currently sitting on top of it, pussy dripping down onto his shorts.

“H-Hobi-” you lean your head against his shoulder, “p-please, please Hobi.” You’re whining, begging, but you don’t care. He’s had his cock fully sheathed inside you for the last twenty minutes and hasn’t moved or let you touch yourself. You guess this is what you get for jokingly flirting with the maknaes earlier.

Hoseok tapped his leg against the floor, sending his member jolting up into your cervix once, before settling again. “Ah!” you scream, probably loud enough for Yoongi to hear next door, “Ho-” you couldn’t finish that sentence, another jolt from his cock making you scream again. There are tears streaming down your face now, eyes squeezed tight.

“Hmm, do you hear something?” he asks no one in particular.

“D-daddy,” you whimper as his leg settles back down again, more tears springing from the corners of your eyes, “daddy, p-please.”

“Please what, princess?”

“Please, f-fuck me,” you sob.

“Mm, I don’t think you deserve it, baby,” he’s still looking straight at his computer screen, eyes never once straying away, “with the way you were sitting on Kookie’s lap earlier, it seems like you want him to fuck you.” You knew it was an act, he didn’t really think you wanted to sleep with his friends, but he loved this power dynamic in the bedroom.

“No daddy, n-no one fucks me like y-you,” you whisper, about to bite into Hoseok’s shoulder, but you remember you’re being punished right now, “no one makes me feel l-like you do.”

“I know darling, but you were a very naughty girl-” he closes the screen of his laptop “-and naughty girls deserve to be punished.” His voice was sweet, too sweet. He’s rubbing a soothing circle against your back as he finally looks you in the eye, “And I plan on punishing you all night.”

“Say it again,” Namjoon says as he comes up from your pussy to take a breath, “tell me who owns this pussy.” His voice was rough, low with lust.

“Daddy!” you shriek as he delves his tongue back between your folds, lapping up the juices from your previous three orgasms, “Daddy! Please! It’s t-too much!”

Namjoon doesn’t listen to you, bringing two fingers up to your slit and gathering your wetness before plunging into you once more. He instantly curled his digits up into your g-spot, pressing hard as he sucked your clit between his teeth.

“Fuck!” You yelp, back arching off the bed. Namjoon’s large hand came up and held your abdomen down, biting gently against your incredibly swollen bud. He pulls away for a moment, fingers still pumping into you.

“I know you got one more baby girl,” he husks, “squirt for me.” He attaches his lips to your clit again. The pain slowly dissipates into pleasure again, the feeling intense as you clamp down against his fingers, screaming out a string of curses.

Namjoon’s tongue is tensed, violently licking against your clit as you cum for the fourth time, squirting all over his face and hand. He works your through your orgasm, fingers stilling inside you, mouth greedily lapping up your release. You’re panting heavily, eyes glazed staring up at the ceiling. Namjoon pulls back from you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he crawls over you.

“Think you got another one?”

Riding Jimin was one of your favorite pastimes, and it was how you were currently spending your evening. Your boyfriend was sitting on the couch, some drama playing in the background, as you grind your hips down onto him. His hands were on your lips, lightly rubbing up and down. His head was thrown back, eyes shut as he got lost in your pleasure.

“You’re so good to me, baby,” he sighs, “so perfect.”

You bring your hand up and run it through his bubblegum pink hair, tugging slightly until he opens his eyes to stare at your through hooded lids. You slow the movement of you hips down and instead opt for moving them in a circular motion, letting his curved cock rub against your walls. “Mmm,” you whine, “fuck me, daddy.”

Jimin’s previous calm aura flips into something devilish, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. What he thought was lazy evening sex just turned into something more. “Yeah?” he asks, gripping onto your hips hard enough to bruise, “need me to take care of you baby girl?”

You nod, whining again as his cock rubs against your sweet spot with a particularly hard roll of your hips. Without warning, Jimin lifts you up off of him until only the head of his dick is still inside you, and starts to relentlessly pound into you, “Fuck, your pussy is amazing,” he praises, “touch yourself for daddy.”

You moan at his words, hand coming down to push into your swollen clit. Your eyes travel south, watching as his thick cock disappears into your body, the sight enough to send you over the edge. You clench around him, head thrown back as you cum. The visual of you, eyes shut, tits bouncing with the force he’s fucking into you with, and the way you squeeze him sends him hurtling too, cumming as his hips stutter against yours.

As you both come down from your high, Jimin picks you up and carries you down the hallway to the bedroom, “Let me clean you up properly, baby girl,” he whispers, laying you down on your bed, cock slipping out of you as his body slips between your legs, eyeing your messy cunt with a lusty hunger, “we’re just getting started.”

“Ah! A-ah,” you yelp as Taehyung’s large hand comes down on your already reddened ass cheek, “daddy please!”

“Please what, baby girl?” His deep voice makes you wetter than you already are, dripping onto the floor from where you’re bent over the bathtub. He hasn’t touched you where you need him most yet.

“Please touch me, daddy,” you whine as he slaps you again.

“Mm, you’re literally dripping all over the floor, doll,” he tsks, “making such a mess. I don’t think you deserve to be pleasured.” His tone was cocky, teasing you as his hand makes contact with your skin again. As you try to turn around to get a look at his handsome face, he smacks your ass harder than he has all night. “Eyes forward,” he demands.

You obey instantly, screaming from the pain he’s inflicting upon you. There are tears running down your face at this point, willing to do anything to feel some relief on your clit. “Pl-please,” you whimper, hand falling until your forehead rests against the cool porcelain, “d-daddy.”

You sound so pathetic. Taehyung's cock is twitching in his jeans. He lands one more harsh slap to your ass before quickly unzipping his jeans and letting his weeping cock fall out. He can see the way your juices are dripping out of you and decides you don’t need, or deserve prepping, and shoves his cock into you, bottoming out almost immediately.

You cry out, in pain or pleasure you aren’t sure, as Taehyung lets you get used to his size, you start to feel a pleasurable stretch in your walls. You let out a sigh of relief at finally having something inside your aching cunt.

Taehyung leans down over you, chests flush against your back and whispers, “I’m gonna fucking ruin you, baby girl.”

You were being a brat. You knew it, Jungkook knew it, hell Jimin down the hall probably knew it. You were protesting Jungkook all night, arguing with him about petty things to rile him up on purpose. While he was acting mad, you knew he secretly (not so secretly) loved it.

Once he had enough of your attitude during movie night, he ordered you to go to his room and wait for him. You knew this was code for “you better be naked in the next two minutes”, so you ran off to prepare to get fucked, just like you had been wanting. You were naked, kneeling on the center of his bed, just like he liked when he walked in.

What you hadn’t expected was for Jungkook to have Seokjin with him. You quickly tried to cover your breasts with your arms, crossing over your chest, letting out a surprised gasp. Seokjin didn’t look away like you expected him to, but instead stared into your eyes with a hunger you’ve never seen in him before.

“You’ve been a bad girl, YN,” it was Jungkook who spoke first, circling the bed. Your eyes followed him warily, mouth slightly parted and eyes wider than full moons. “I know you’ve been testing me,” his eyes were dark, “so I don’t think you deserve to get fucked by daddy tonight.”

Was he being serious? The two of you had talked about cuckolding before, Jungkook telling you it was a turn on of his, but you didn’t expect it to come into play tonight. “Jung-” you started but were quickly cut off by your boyfriend.

“Who?” his tone was sinful, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

“Daddy?” you tried.

“Yes, baby,” his voice softened, but his eyes did not, “and you will refer to your oppa as ‘sir’. Tell me you understand.”

This was him giving you an out, eyes observing your features for any hesitancy. “Yes, daddy,” you whisper before looking at Seokjin who was now wearing a smirk, “sir.”

Jungkook smiled at your obedience before looking at his elder. “You use a condom, and if she says stop, you stop. Got it?” You watch the brief exchange between the two with lust filled eyes. Seokjin nodded, patting the younger on the back, taking a condom from his pocket. Were they planning this? Jungkook walks back over to you, placing a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be right over there, ok?” he whispers in your ear, forgetting his role for a moment. You nod.

Seokjin strips his pants, leaving his boxers on as he pushes them down just enough for his cock to spring out. Your mouth is watering at the sight of his pretty pink tip, oozing with precum you know you’ll never have a chance to taste. You watch in awe as he rolls the condom over his length before gently pushing you back on the bed. “On your knees, princess.” You obey immediately, flipping over and scrambling to get on your hands and knees.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see your boyfriend sitting in his desk chair, cock in hand, lazily stroking himself as the sight of you about to be fucked by his friend. You jolt as you feel Seokjin run a crooked finger up your slit and dip into your pussy. You clench around his digit as he hums in satisfaction. “You ready for me?” he asks. You nod in response, looking to Jungkook.

“Use your words, baby girl,” you boyfriend husks.

“Yes, sir,” you murmur, resting your forehead against the cool sheets as Seokjin pushes his length into your clenching pussy.

“God, she’s so tight Jungkook,” he grunts as he sheaths himself inside you, stilling for a moment at the feeling, “you get to fuck this every night?”

Jungkook chuckles from his spot in the corner of the room, “Yeah, you better savor it cause this is never happening again.”

“Ah, we’ll see about that,” Jin laughs, pulling almost all the way out of you before slamming his hips into you, “we’ll let her decide when I’m done with her. Isn’t that right, princess?”

“Yes, sir!” you whine as he begins fucking into you.

“Don’t push it,” you heard Jungkook rasp, making Jin laugh again.

Jin fucks you hard and fast, a stark difference to how Jungkook takes his time with you, makes you feel amazing under his care. It’s not that Jin wasn’t fucking you well, he was, it just wasn’t the same. His cock was long and thick, and felt nice inside you, but you needed more. Jungkook, being the loving and doting boyfriend he always has been, notices this. Getting up from his seated position, he walks over to his dresser and pulls something out. Your head is still resting against the bed, bouncing forward with every thrust of Jin’s hips so you don’t notice Jungkook’s approach until you feel the bed sink next to you. You look up and meet your boyfriend’s kind eyes, making you smile at him.

“Want some help, baby girl?”

Jin’s thrusts are becoming more and more erratic as he nears his edge. You nod quickly, “Yes, p-please, daddy,” you whine, the feeling of Jin’s cock almost getting you there.

“Hyung,” Jungkook grabs the elder’s attention, “angle your hips up a bit.”

It was a simple thing, but Seokjin listens and instantaneously you feel his bulbous tip rub against your sweet spot with each thrust, making you scream out in pleasure. “Fuck,” you hear Jin moan behind you, “I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Better, baby?” Jungkook asks, stroking your hair.

“Y-yes, oh fuck, daddy!”

“Daddy’s got you,” Jungkook whispers as he leans down on the bed. His hand travels down your front and you feel the soft silicone of your favorite vibrator push against your clit. You gasp at the forgein feeling, but immediately lose yourself to the pleasure when Jungkook clicks it on. “Let go for us, baby girl,” he groans in your ear, losing himself at the sight of your eyes rolling back in your head, mouth parted in a silent scream.

You feel Jin still inside you, his cock twitching as he cums into the rubber. You aren’t far behind, as Jungkook motions for his friend to stay seated inside your heat so you can cum. Your boyfriend clicks the vibrator up another notch, sending sparks flying on your insides. You clench hard around Jin who winces at the overstimulation, but remains where he is. Jungkook talks you through your orgasm, removing the toy as soon as you start to come down to avoid over stimulating you. Seokjin silently pulls out of you while you’re distracted by your boyfriend and quickly pulls his pants on, sneaking out the door to leave the two of you alone.

Once he’s gone, Jungkook gathers you up in his arms and lays back against his headboard, holding you close to his chest. “How do you feel, baby girl?” he asks, brushing your hair out of your face and kissing your cheeks.

“Mm,” you mumble, “amazing. Thank you, daddy.”

Jungkook nuzzles against your hair as you realize something, “Wait! You didn’t cum,” you gasp, looking up at his sweet doe eyes. He blushes slightly, pursing his lips.

“Yeah - I did. When you came, actually,” he smiled at you, “I love seeing you like that, YN. It’s why I wanted to try this in the first place.”

“Yeah? How did you like it?”

His brow furrows. “I don’t think we’re gonna do it again,” he growls, “daddy’s the only one who can make you feel that good.”

You feel his cock twitch against your bare ass, “Can daddy make me feel good again?”

#bts smut #ot7 smut #jungkook smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #bts x reader #seokjin smut #bts reactions #ot7 reactions

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achliegh · 3 years

Text

Golden

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THANK :)

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 13:

Anchors Away

Clay was bored, wandering around the mall with nothing to do. Thomas was at practice, Noelle was at work at the aquarium. He was alone again and he really didn’t like it. Leo was busy cleaning the apartment for his mom who is showing up later tonight and Reg was hanging out at the rink.

Clay thought about going to the rink but everytime he goes for longer than 20 minutes he gets a head cold. He was walking past a recently closed store and heard faint music coming from inside. He walked in and noticed a small table set up with two men who were jokingly singing along to the song.

Clay took note of all the posters around the small store.

‘Feeling like you need a purpose in life?’ Yeah, he does. Everyone around him is doing actual things with their lives. Reg has started going to art school for errotic photography and portraits. Leo has been selling horses over video calls with rich clients and helping his mother set up times for the clients to go down and visit the horses at the ranch. Obviously, the hockey boys are playing hockey. Noelle is a year away from graduating and was recently promoted, and Clay just kind of existed…

Leo jokingly called him a houseboy when he mentioned how he just stays at home and cleans, now that's all he is ever called by Leo and Reg and it really makes Clay feel worthless. He knows they don’t mean anything by it but…. It still stings.

He moves on to the next poster. “Want financial benefits, healthcare, and more?”

That would be nice, to make his own money for once instead of his parents randomly filling his account with too much money. Something he knows he shouldn’t complain about but he wants to make a name for himself.

‘Join the U.S Navy.’ He paused, he doesn’t know a lot about his birth family, but he does know they were in the military. He has no clue which branch and he knows if he asked his parents they would help him in a heartbeat. But maybe this was a way to find out on his own.

He left the mall feeling lighter, a pep in his step.

He just enlisted in the navy. He was going to make something of himself and maybe even feel like he isn’t just watching his friends and partners pass him by.

Then it hit him, the one thing Leo and him promised each other they would never do is join the military. Because they both know how it fucks people up. Leo lost his uncle, and Clay’s dad lost his own father to PTSD from not having proper care after. Maybe he just screwed up…. But there was no going back now. He wouldn’t.

Walking in the house, Noelle was looking beautiful. She was wearing a pair of sweats rolled up twice at the waist and one of Clay’s old ratty t-shirts. Her curly hair was in her normal ponytail and she was putting on her sneakers. She looked tired from work.

Earlier in the week when Clay and Leo announced Eloise was coming to visit for a few days Noelle started stressing immediately. She has always worried about meeting parents because they always seem to dislike her when they first lay eyes on her, she blames it on her chronic RBF. Clay reassured her that Eloise would love her and actually already loves her from all the stories Clay has told her on her weekly calls.

Eloise was coming tonight, fuck! It was his birthday today and he forgot to mention it! Oops...

Thomas was sitting next to her, freshly showered in his own sweats and t-shirt looking relaxed, he was wearing some socks with little hamsters on them that Clay found for him a while ago. It made his heart jump and he felt his face stretch into a smile. He was scrolling through his phone and Thomas’ whole face opened up in a bright smile as soon as he saw Clay. He made Clay feel so special in a specific way, a way that is so different from how Noelle does and he loves them both.

He needs to tell them that.

“I have something to tell you guys… honestly, I don’t know how you will react but what's done is done.” He puts his hands in his jean pockets and taps the hell of his boots to the toe of his other boot. He was fidgeting and knew the other two noticed. It made him even more nervous.

“That doesn’t sound like good news.” Thomas looks at him a bit worried. His smile was still there but it fell slightly and Clay just wanted to fix it. He noticed Noelle had paused stomping on her shoes, oddly similar to Logan, it made him want to stop what he was going to say but… communication is important!

“Well, I first need you guys to promise me something, then I will make Finn and Logan promise the same thing when we see them because I know I will have to tell them.” He has to tell them, so they are ready for Leo just, not being okay.

And it was all gonna be Clay’s fault.

“What's the promise?” Noelle finishes putting on her shoe and looks up at him. She is trying her best to keep her face neutral but he could tell the wheels were turning in her brain.

“Do not tell Leo, I need to be the one to tell him… and I know he isn’t going to react well. Same goes for Reg but I will probably tell him a lot sooner than Leo.” He keeps on switching his feet that he is tapping and finally looks at them.

It’s now or never.

“I enlisted in the navy today.”

“Okay, Reg and I are going to pick up Ma and then we will be right back!” Leo has been all smiles all day. Finn knew he was close to his mom but this is just adorable.

“Drive safe!” Leo and Reg wave as they leave the apartment and as soon as the door closes Clay is standing in front of Finn and Logan who are snuggled together on the couch. Logan was wrapped up in Leo’s favorite blanket that his grandpa made for him before he passed away. It was a woven blanket with an image of Peanut on it. That blanket has seen Leo and Clay in their worst moments.

He was surprised Logan wasn’t scared of it given his fear of horses.

“Alright you two, I need to tell you something and it needs to be kept secret from Leo and Reg, if you so much as tell them a peep I will never forgive you. That will make family reunions super awkward.” Finn looks up from his phone where he and Logan were reading the comments on their latest tiktok on their joined account.

“Don’t look at me.” Finn raises his hand on surrender and looks at Logan who rolls his eyes annoyed and snatches Finn’s phone away to keep reading the comments.

“I enlisted in the navy-” Clay didn’t even get the full sentence out before Logan had thrown the phone down on the cushion next to him and Finn covered his mouth with his hand looking shocked.

“YOU DID WHAT?”

“Mama!” Leo hugs Eloise tightly as she drops her bags to hug him back. “How was the flight?” He squeezes her tightly before noticing her new hearing aid is flashing is three blinks then a pause and three more blinks. “I think your hearing aid is dying. Make sure to charge them when we get home.” She either ignores him or doesn’t hear him even though she can normally hear him this close.

“Rick was a great pilot as always, even let me bring y’all some moonshine he made. It's watermelon and raspberry!.” Eloise pulls away after one last squeeze and sees Reg and her smile widens. “Reg! I’m so happy you’re here!” She waits for him to open his arms as an invitation to hug him so she knows he is comfortable with her touching him and she does as soon as he opens his arms. Tighter than she did Leo. “Have you been eating well? How about sleeping? Did you ever enroll in college?”

“Yes, yes and yes.” Reg can’t help but laugh when she picks him up still hugging him and sways him around. He isn’t used to this much affection from a mother figure but… they love it.

“I’m so proud of you for following your dream.” She pulls away and smiles at him with a sincere smile and brushes his hair back. “Your hair looks nice by the way.”

“Thank you.” Reg and Leo help her with her bags and pack them into the truck and drive the short way back to the apartment. Talking about everything and anything. The door man sends a wink Eloise’s way and she holds up her left hand where her wedding ring is. Letting him know she is taken. Walking up to the apartment they smell an odd smell through the door and everyone shares a look.

“I promise it doesn't normally smell this way unless… oh no.”

“What does that mean!?” She leans over to Reg to whisper as Leo fiddles with his key in the lock.

“It means Finn and Logan tried to cook something.” Reg whispers to Eloise as Leo opens the door, Clay was the first to greet them, smiling his million dollar smile he hugs Elosie so tight it surprises her.

“Hello Bluebell! I was surprised I didn’t see you at the airport. How are you doing sweetheart! Twenty years old today! You’re all growing up so fast.” She kisses his forehead and they pull apart. “You look good. Your mother wants you to call her later tonight so she can sing happy birthday.”

“It's your birthday!” Noelle pipes up and looks at Clay offended. “And you didn’t tell us!” He cringes before turning to her.

“Oh, I guess I forgot.” He walks over to her and kisses her cheek while Eloise puts her hand on her chest from just how cute they are.

“Seems like that should have been the first thing you told us this morning instead of, ‘ I feel like a jellyfish’.” Thomas laughs a little and kisses both Noelle and Clay’s cheeks. “So cute.”

“It slipped my mind!”

“Okay, what is that smell?” Leo leads Eloise towards the kitchen after she is done fawning over how cute those three are. Finn and Logan are suspiciously standing in the way of the countertop right next to the stove. “What are you hiding?”

Finn turns bright red and Logan looks anywhere but Leo. Eloise sets her purse on the counter and walks over to them, giving them both kisses on the cheek.

“What did you make us?”

“Well… we tried to make a cake from your cookbook-”

“It didn’t go very well.” They both move to the side to reveal a lopsided cake with some diluted frosting dripping off and random coconut flakes floating around on it. “Can you at least tell what it is?” Logan casually turned the plate so the ‘good side’ was facing Leo and Eloise.

“Umm… not really. Do you mind just telling us?” Eliose was examining the cake, trying to figure out what cinnamon cake she had in her cookbook. None that she can remember.

“Something called,” Finn walks over to the book and notices Clay and Reg standing to the side with their phones up and probably recording. “Divinity Cake.” The room was suddenly really still and quiet. Eloise looked like she was about to cry and Leo was just staring at the cake in shock.

Then Eloise brokedown in laughter, to the point where she was laughing so hard she was on the ground holding her stomach and crying. Finn and Logan were visibly confused and looked to Leo for an explanation, only to find him trying to conceal his laughter in the crooks of his arm.

“Oh my god! What is so funny?” Logan looks at the cookbook and then back at the cake. It looked terrible but they tried their best! They didn’t burn the house down at least.

“Oh my lovely lovely boys.” Leo wraps an arm around both their shoulders and pulls them in close so they are all cheek to cheek for a moment. “Divinity cake is usually cooked for your in-laws in the south.. To prove you are worthy of being a good wife.” explains through his laughing breaks. “This is amazing.”

Eloise eventually stands up and dabs her eyes so she doesn’t smear her makeup. Pulling the two embarrassed boys into a tight hug. “Y’all are so sweet. Thank you for the cake.” She gives them both sloppy kisses on the cheeks and then pats where she just kissed. “Alright I’m going to put my things in the guest room and then we can cook something up for y’all to eat.” She smiles and takes most of her bags to the guest room but forgets her purse. “Finn, would you be a dear and grab my purse for me?” She calls out and Finn being the sweetheart he is, grabs the bag and tries to take it with him as he walks past.

The bag won’t budge, Leo is watching with a smile on his face and his arms crossed. Finn tugs at the bag again and eventually gets it off the counter, it nearly knocks him over with how heavy it is. He scurried to Eloise’s room and gave it to her. She holds it like it’s nothing.

He makes his way back over to Leo and sinks into his chest, his face buried in his neck. Logan is still poking the cake, showing off just how gelatinous it is. Clay and Reg are comparing videos that they took and laughing at how they zoomed in on different faces. Sending them to each other.

“I’m sorry we messed up the cake.” Finn looks up at Leo and sees the sweetest little smile, showing his dimples off. Finn has noticed Leo’s tan from the summer is fading and it is making the small scar across his nose more prominent. It was cute.

“Honestly, it’s better than anything else y’all have made. Plus, now Mama can teach you how to make it the right way for the next time she visits.” Leo kisses his eyebrow and wraps his arms around him as Finn pouts even more. Logan eventually makes his way over and rests his head on Leo’s shoulder.

“Maybe it still tastes good?” He closes his eyes and rubs his cheek on Leo’s soft shirt and tough shoulder, massaging his jaw muscles. His arms are crossed.

“We can try it afte Mama and I make some food, how about y’all pick out what you want so she can put on her mini cooking show.” Leo feels the boys lean off of him and smiles as he watches them pour over each page of the book looking for a meal they want.

“Alright, I’m ready to cook.” Eloise comes back into the room and gathers everyone so they are sitting on the other side of the counter, unless they are Reg or Leo because they are allowed to help cook. Finn and Noelle have taken the two seats while Clay and Thomas are on either side of them watching and Logan is in between them.

They all watch as Eloise explains what she is doing in hopes it helps them understand and make them want to try and make this on their own. Logan gets in trouble for focusing on Leo instead of what she is teaching and she gives him a smirk.

“You remind me a lot of Wyatt, you know that? Around the same height too.” She smiles as she fiddles with her ring after she washed her hands to get the rest of the flour off her hands. Leo is watching the food in the oven as he leans against the counter and nods in agreement with her.

“I do?” Logan looks at her a little confused, he sadly never got the chance to meet Wyatt but he always pictured him as more of the strong and silent type who was also tall, giving Leo his extra few inches of height.

“He was 5’10 and the sweetest man I have ever met, he was goofy and carefree like Finn and always had this hard look in his eyes like you do. Unless he was looking at Leo or I, or in your case Leo. Please don’t look at me like that.” Leo snorts and smiles.

“That would be kinda weird.” He turns his head over his shoulder and smiles at his boys. “Why don’t we tell them some stories about dad? I never really talk about him because… well, it still hurts.” Eloise smiles a little sad at her son and gives his arm a comforting squeeze. Her love language.

“Well, he was in the air force.” She notices Clay looking away, Noelle suddenly looks uncomfortable and Thomas looks a little sad. Something was off. “He and his twin brother Wess joined at the same time, and flew fighter jets together. His brother was shot down and Wyatt made Leo promise to never join. After he came back he vowed to never leave again. He kept his promise.” She smiles at the image of him coming home still fresh in her mind. “He was in love with music, sometimes I think he loved music more than us. He tried to get Leo to learn how to play instruments but the poor boy is so tone deaf he couldn’t figure anything out.” She laughs a little as Leo smiles. “I remember when Leo was being taught the guitar Wyatt would be thrown into laughing fits when Leo would play the wrong chords and smile up at him like he just did something.”

“I thought I did!” Leo laughs a little and turns around to face everyone else. “Look It took me forever to learn rhythm, and now I can dance like there is no tomorrow… still can’t sing though.”

“Ahmen!” Clay pipes up and ducks as Leo throws a spoon at him.

“Shut up!”

“Wyatt did manage to teach Clay how to play fiddle somehow, do you still play?” Eloise checks the food in the oven and determines it's not done.

“I haven’t played since… yeah I haven’t played in a while.”

“He was so proud of you. Wyatt was also a sportsman. He loved sports, especially baseball. So when Leo came home and told Wyatt he joined the team, they went out back and played catch for, I don’t know, hours.”

“My arm was sore the next day.”

“He came to every single game of Leo’s besides one, and was his biggest fan. He made shirts with Leo’s player picture on them and wore them to every game. No matter how many times Leo begged him not to!” The timer goes off and Reg gets the food out of the oven.

“Is this done?” He asks, Eloise comes over to check and nods.

“Looks good! How about we eat?” She smiles and has everyone line up so she can dish it out for them.

Thomas and Noelle are getting ready to leave when Eloise asks Clay to join her outside. He gives them a worried look but follows her. Outside is cold, and there is a bit of snow on the railing of the balcony.

“Talk to me Clayton, something is wrong, I noticed it earlier.” She looks at him and taps her foot as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it. “Clayton.”

“I joined the navy, and I haven’t told Leo, and I ask that you don’t tell him either because he needs to hear this from me.” He is looking out at the traffic below so he doesn’t have to watch her face. He knows she is upset with him.

“Is that what you really want to do?” She walks up next to him and joins him in looking at the traffic. Clay has always admired how strong Eloise is, she has been through a hell of a lot and still has this calm and stable energy.

“Yes.”

“Then you made the right choice.” She turns and looks at him, smiling in a way that he knows is trying to hide her sadness. She ruffles his hair as he finishes his cig and puts it out on the bottom of his boot. “Have you told Noelle and Thomas?”

“Yeah.” He knows his short answers sound hostile but he wants to be away from this conversation.

“They support you?” She always makes sure he has support, it hurts sometimes. Like he can’t just get support himself and he always needs help.

“Yes.” She nods and walks back towards the door.

“Then you better spend as much time with them as you can.” She goes inside, leaving Clay to think about everything by himself.

It was dangerous.

He walks back inside and they leave. Noelle turns around from the passenger seat and smirks at Clay. He was in for a fun night.

“I’m off to bed boys, we have a busy day tomorrow!” Elosie kisses her boy's cheeks and walks to her room.

“I like you mom.” Logan says as he tackles Leo to the ground straddling his back with his scented markets in hand. He tugs at Leo’s shirt, he complies and takes it off. Logan has been dying to do this all day.

“I hope not too much!” Leo crosses his arms under his head until Finn sits down next to him and he pulls his thigh so it's underneath Leo’s head. Leo shivers as the cold marker hits his skin and Logan begins coloring.

“What other stories do you have about Wyatt?” Finn rubs his fingers over Leo’s short hair that has really grown out over the past month, it was starting to curl at the ends making Leo look sweet.

“He used to read to me when I was little, then when I was able to read I would read to him until he fell asleep and started snoring.” Leo smiles and Finn can feel it on his leg. “He was also my coach for little league baseball for a bit and he was great but not everyone liked that he was my dad. Other parents thought I was getting special treatment. Also he would argue with the umpires and get in trouble!” Leo bursts out laughing and Logan gorans.

“Leoooooooooo! Be still!” Leo calms down and lets Logan keep coloring the flowers of his back piece.

“Sorry sorry, I just remembered when he got kicked out of a game because an umpire called Clay out when he was safe. It was hilarious. He called the umpire a muppet.” Smiling Leo yawns and blinks a few times.

“You can fall asleep, we will wake you up and go to bed when Logan finishes.” Finn is scrolling on his phone and is petting Leo’s head as he feels it get heavier with sleep. Finn looks up at Logan after making sure Leo is asleep.

“We need to tell him we love him.”

“Yeah, we do.” They smile at each other and share a peck before going back to what they were doing.

The next morning Finn and Logan wake up with a Leo sized dent in the bed and not Leo. They wander out to the kitchen and get smacked in the face with the smell of blueberry pancakes. They float into the kitchen and smile at the sight. Eloise has her hair in curlers and is in a thick grey robe and Leo’s sweatpants because she doesn’t own a pair. Her face is free of makeup and it shows how well she has taken care of her skin over the years. She is flipping a couple of pancakes while Leo sips on some apple juice. Just chatting away about the plan for today.

“Okay so after family skate is the party at Pascal and Celeste’s.”

“I won’t be at family skate dear, I have some work to do today.” She puts the last pancake on a plate, making sure that each plate has two, she takes two plates over to the table while Leo carries the other two.

“Ma, you promised me you wouldn’t work while you were here.” He sighs and sets the plates down. He sighs and sits down, not noticing the other two people in the room, he starts poking at his pancakes with his cheek on his hand and elbow on the table. Sulking.

“I know sweetheart but these people are someone who your Daddy tried to sell to for years. They plan to get two mares and then I will be at the party. On time. I promise.” She puts the dishes from cooking in the sink and fills the pancake batter bowl with hot water before grabbing her cup of coffee and walking over to sit next to Leo.

Logan and Finn share a look. They shouldn’t be listening to this.

“Okay but, just please be there towards the beginning of the party. I want to introduce you to my-... the team.” Leo furrows his brow not understanding why he about called the lions his team, when he doesn’t even play hockey.

“I will try my best, Merigold.” She pats his hand and Logan and Finn make their entrance, yawning and stretching as they walk over to the table. “Morning boys.”

“Morning!” Finn smacks a kiss on Leo’s temple as he walks past and Logan does the same, taking their seats and chowing down.

Later that day Eloise was putting her hair in a ponytail as she checked to make sure there were no creases in her uniform. Well, it's not a uniform but what she likes her and Leo to wear when they go to sell.

A black tall-neck turtle neck with long sleeves and tight to the body. Some khaki colored riding pants with tall back socks and brown riding boots. Professional yet comfortable. She was selling to the Malfoy family today, the father is buying these mares for his sons wedding coming up. She is still convinced that they only want their mares because Wyatt is gone, making Knut horses more desirable.

They were in contact with Wyatt for years and were not very nice. She knows she needs to make this sale though. Walking out to the living room to grab her purse she sees Leo moping on the couch by himself. She sighs out of her nose, walking over to him and petting the top of his head.

“I promise I will be there tonight, with moonshine.” She smiles as Leo rolls his eyes.

“I trust you.” Then he stood and gave her good luck and a hug before walking back to his bedroom… not the master bedroom. She takes a deep breath and leaves the apartment.

The rink was cold, Leo was bundled up in his new coat, hat and gloves while rocking his normal jeans and boots. His brand new skates were in hand, not broken in so he was wearing two pairs of tall socks just to help against blisters. Clay actually owned a pair of skates and has been skating since he was younger because he has family in Montana that he would visit for the holidays.

Jerk.

Leo was sitting in Finn's stall just trying to stay warm while he watched Noelle tie one of Clay’s skates and Thomas tie the other. Leo had to admit, he was so happy for Clay, seeing him with that sappy smile makes Leo know that he’s okay. He never smiled like that with Ashley.

Logan walks over to him, completely ready to skate and looking good. He was wearing his favorite well worn sweats and Leo’s new thrifted sweater that was dark green, showing off his eyes. He was wearing his normal cap backwards and Leo has always found it funny that Logan will never wear a hat forwards.

“Ready to get laced up?” Leo nods and holds out a skate to Logan. “You’re very quiet right now, are you that cold?” Leo just narrows his eyes and gives a short nod. Logan shows him how to lace up and once his other skate is on he stands up and nearly falls over.

“This is going to be terrible… is there a dentist nearby? I have a tendency to fall teeth first into the ground.” Licking over his chipped tooth absentmindedly he looks around. There were kids running around in skates and jumping into other players arms. He smiles a bit and rests his elbow on Logan’s head who is wear much more worn down skates so Leo is a fucking giant to him. “You’re the perfect height.”

“Yeah yeah, lets watch you try and walk. Then we can find Finn who I’m guessing is talking to Syd.” Logan helps Leo take a few steps knowing Leo has no balance at all. In skates or not. He has witnessed this name trip over nothing.

“Whose Syd?” Leo starts walking on his own and feels like this isn’t so bad.

“My oldest sister. Aubry is here too. They also play professional hockey. So… don’t get on their bad sides.” Leo stops walking.

“You never mentioned your sisters will be here! I thought I was meeting them when we go to visit your parents in a week! Oh boy… Do they know about you and Finn?” Leo continues walking after Logan grabs his hand and leads him out of the tunnel.

“Yes they know about me and Finn, I told my family first because… well my parents love him and my sisters all had a bet so… yeah. But they don’t know about you because I didn’t know if you were ready for that.” Leo stops him before they completely exit the tunnel and presses him up against the wall, kissing him softly.

“Thank you.” Leo smiles when Logan does and they pull apart to see they are the last out of the tunnel. Walking out Leo stops in front of the ice. “Yo, I don’t know if I have enough ego to let me fall face first onto the ice in front of a whole hockey team yet.”

“What, you aren’t up for the challenge?” Clay skates right up to him, not as seamless as everyone else but still pretty well. He has this challenging look in his eyes and Leo knows exactly what is going to happen. “I knew you weren’t good at everything.” Leo launches himself at LCay who skates out of the way just in time for Leo to miss and barely holds himself up as he glides across the ice.

“Clay! When I get my hands on you, I swear!” Then he falls flat on his ass and gorans laying down, staring at the ceiling annoyed. This sucks.

Clay is having an absolute field day, Laughing his ass off as he skates up to Leo and helps him stand. Patting his back for a moment and letting Leo get his balance he then pushes him over and skates away.

“CLAYTON!” Leo falls basically into a middle split and it distracts Finn from his conversation with Logan and his sisters, hitting Logan’s chest until he looks over at Leo who is still being taunted by Clay and now Reg.

“I didn’t know he could do that.” They share a look and both seem to get ideas around the same time because their faces get all reg and they high five.

“Who is that?” Sydney is readjusting her hat as she looks at Leo. “He’s a cutie, I wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that.”

“Agreed. He is really handsome.” Aubry nods in agreement and Logan is suddenly possessive. He glares at them.

“Back off, he’s mine!” He crosses his arms and turns his attention back to Leo who is now talking to Katie who has made herself at home on his leg. Leo looks like he is trying his best not to shake from how cold he is.

“You have Finn, let us have our fun.” Aubrey hits his shoulder and skates over to Leo and Katie. “Need some help?” Katie smiles at her. Leo looks up at her and gives a shy smile because he is embarrassed. Nodding she holds out her hand, Katie grabs his other hand and helps him up. With Katie on one side and Aubry on the other, Leo starts more skating and less falling over.

“Awww they are so cuteeeee.” Sydney smiles at them and hears Logan grumble, looking at them annoyed and Finn is still snorting everytime Leo stumbles. But Finn has this look in his eyes that Sydney has only ever seen him give Logan. She hopes there isn’t anything shady going on between those three.

Eventually, Aubry and Leo stake back over to Finn, Logan and Sydeny who are all still chatting on the ice and sipping their hot chocolate that Celeste brought.

“Can I have a sip?” Logan holds up his cup over his shoulder to Leo’s lips, because Leo is behind him, and holds it as he takes a sip. “Mm, so yummy. I’ve never really had this before. Hot chocolate?” Leo doesn’t really drink warm drinks at all, even the coffee is normally cooled down to where it isn’t hot, sometimes iced.

“You should have Finn make you some, he is really good at it.” Finn kisses Logan's forehead and smiles.

“It’s like the one thing I learned how to make properly. Alex taught me! He is coming to the party later tonight if you want to meet him.”

“I’d love to meet him! Now, I’ve met Aubry. I’m guessing you are Sydney? Logan talks about you guys sometimes but I don’t know a lot.” Leo smiles at her and reaches his hand out to shake hers.

“You have a southern accent…” Aubry and her share a look.

Logan is definitely not keeping him from them.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #james potter #thomas walker #Clayton Bruss #o'knutzy #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast

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thatringboy · 3 years

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Me to me: Nooo don’t make an Inazuman oc you already have two OCs from Liyue and Natlan who you said you’d revamp and besides, you’re probably going to lose interest in this one soon Also Me, getting way to invested in Inazuma lore: HEY EVERYONE COME MEET MY NEW OC HIIRAGI YORICHI, A HYDRO SWORD USER WHO’S AUTISTIC LIKE ME

Link to picrew used for profile

Buried Beauty

“My duty is first to the people of my homeland, then the Kanjou Commission. Make no mistake, Baal must be stopped, but not at the expense of the people.”

The firstborn son of the Hiiragi Clan who’s name means “first gift”. He grew up in Sumeru Academy, but has returned to Ritou to take up his father’s yoke over the Kanjou Commission

General Information

Name: Hiiragi Yorichi

Age: 28

Affiliation: Hiiragi Clan

Birthdate: January 17

Starsign: Capricorn

Constellation: Thesauros Sepultus

Weapon: Sword

Vision: Hydro

Voice Claims

CVA: Zhang Jie

JVA: Tasuku Hatanaka

EVA: Kyle Phillips

Voice Lines

Good Morning: Hmm? Oh, yes, greetings Traveler and Paimon. Sorry, I didn’t see you there… I’m not much of a morning person

Good Afternoon: Did I miss lunch again? Eh, oh well. Traveler, wanna run by Miss Ryouko’s to get some food?

Good Evening: If I don’t get back soon, Chisato will certainly send someone out to find me

Good Night: Can you get back on your own? I’m afraid that I must return to Ritou for the evening

When It Rains: Quickly! The rain will cover our tracks!

When It Snows: Huh? Wow it got cold fast! Better go find some shelter before I accidentally freeze us

When It’s Sunny: Be careful, our enemies can see clearly in broad daylight

Favorite Food: Mmm, I could go for some Mondstat Grilled Fish right about now… I had it once during their Ludi Harpastum Festival that my Senpai took me to one year and I’ve just fallen in love with the flavour!

Least Favorite Food: Is… is that cabbage? No no, there’s nothing wrong, just don’t expect me to eat any. Why? Well… I don’t like the texture at all! Eating it feels like slime going down my throat which closes up my airways and then that sensation makes my brain feel like someone shoved a wet blanket between my ears and wrapped it around my brain! Please… never make me eat cabbage…

About: Vision: My Vision? How did I get mine? Well, since you asked so nicely, it appeared to me in a dream during the end of the first year of the Sakoku Decree. I had cried myself to sleep because of the anguish I felt coming from those who had their Visions stolen - those who I had sworn to protect as a Clan Heir - and I cursed out Celestia for allowing this to happen. In my dream, I appeared before seven giant thrones all glowing with elemental magic. In the blue throne sat a woman who gave off so much power that I could not gaze upon her. Yet, her words always resonate in my heart: “Your loyalties may change, but never change your principles. Do no harm to others, but do not let harm fall upon you and those you love.” When I woke up, the Vision was tucked under my pillow!

About: Kanjou Commission: One day, it will be my duty to oversee the Kanjou Commission. Am I ready? Probably not. Do I have a choice? Also no. I just want to make everyone proud… but how can I do that when father has already deemed me an embarrassment to the Hiiragi Clan simply because of who I am?

About: Sumeru Academy: The Academy? I grew up there! Fourteen years I spent roaming the halls absorbing all of the knowledge I could! *Sigh*… maybe if the Travel Ban gets lifted, I’ll show you around my old stomping grounds!

About: Ritou: I’m friends with some of the guys at the Outlander’s Trade Association. What do you wish to see? Want to head by a jewelry shop? Get some food?

About: Interests: Wanna know a secret? Deep down, I’m an alchemist at heart! Anything alchemy related, I’m sure I can be of use! It’s my special interest! Did you know that the luminescent spines of a firefly can—wait wait no I’m sorry. Father says that people get bored of my ramblings, my apologies for wasting your time…

About: Swords: You may have noticed that my sword technique is different from the samurai of Inazuma. That is because I learned how to use my blade at the Academy. I forged this blade myself when I turned twenty. Would you like to hold it?

About Ayaka: Miss Kamisato? I’ve met her once and she seems nice, but I still feel uneasy around her. But maybe that’s just me

About Raiden Shogun: You want to know why I refer to the Shogun as “Baal”? Well, that’s because I didn’t grow up in a place that calls her the “Raiden Shogun”. I’m used to my peers referring to her as “Baal” and I’ve yet to drop the habit. Also, I don’t have much respect for her, but don’t tell anyone that

About Ayato: Never met him, but his description gives me the creeps! Never appears in public, leaving his little sister to do all the work? The nerve of that guy! O-oh… that sounds like me? Ehe-he… oops

About Yoimiya: Oh Miss Naganohara! She makes the best fireworks! She and I are actually a lot alike. What, you don’t see it? I guess that comes from me spending a lifetime hiding my inner enthusiasm while she never quite grew up. We should go to the next firework festival to see her, I’m sure she’d love that! But… from a distance please. The popping noises from the fireworks hurt my ears

About Kaeya: The Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, huh? I’m curious to see how the pieces fall into place… what was that? Oh, it’s nothing… just gossip from some old colleagues

About Diluc: Diluc? Who’s that? Owner of the Dawn Winery? The Ragnvindr Clan? Nope, doesn’t ring a bell. The Darknight Hero? Of course! Why didn’t you just say that?! Yeah I know who you’re talking about now! What? He’s got a Vision too? I guess that guy’s just full of surprises

About Childe: So, that weasel is actually a Fatui Harbinger? Why am I not surprised... O-oh when did I meet him? After I graduated from the Academy. Did I sound too surprised about his identity? Sorry, when I knew him, he used a different name

About Albedo: Ah… the son of Rhinedottir. His master actually attended one of my lectures when I was younger in secret. I think they were using an alias during that time but I spoke to them in private. It was interesting to learn different things about ancient alchemy techniques from another land. I think Albedo is currently an alchemist in Mondstat, right? I’ll visit him when the Travel Ban is lifted to exchange notes

About Klee: Klee, daughter of Alice? Eh, I haven’t heard good things. I’m not a big fan of explosions... but that doesn’t mean that she’s a bad kid! I’m sure if I met her, we’d be friends

About Lisa: Minci-Senpai! We worked together a lot at the Acadmia! Why did I call her senpai when I’m older than her? Well, because she’s the Grandmage!!! Everyone knows how smart and powerful Minci-Senpai is! Once, she tasked me with finding ways to preserve pure Electro organisms. So, I coated the inside of a jar with Hydro Slime condensate so that her Electro roses can continuously be charged by the Hydro energy… Sorry, I’m getting carried away

About Mona: What, do you think that all Hydro users who practice magic know each other? Well, I do know Miss Megistus, but you can’t assume that! I met her and her master once during a lecture on fortune telling with the use of elemental abilities. Now that I have a Vision of my own, I will see if I can implement their techniques into my own practice

About Sara: To be perfectly honest, I’ve never met her. We may be the heirs to our Clans and our respective Commissions, but I’ve never had a conversation with her. Naturally, as a Vision holder and she as the spearhead of the Tenryou Commission, I am her enemy. However, as the heir to the Hiiragi Clan, I must keep up formalities. Besides, my dear sister Chisato is being courted by another member of the Kujou clan, Kujou Kamaji, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin that. You won’t turn me and my Vision in to her, right?

About Cyno: Ah, Master Cyno, one of the smartest members of the Academy. I owe a lot of my development to him. I don’t think I would have finished my Thesis paper on the eighth nation without his guidance

About: Names: You know, my name means “first treasure”, but despite such an endearing name, my father has yet to reveal my face to the public and claim me as his heir. He was also the one to send me away when I was a boy to Sumeru because I was not like other children. Was I meant to be gift to my family? To the other nations? Was I an unwanted gift? … Oh, sorry about that. I don’t usually get dark like that! Tell me, Traveller, what does your name mean?

About: Politics: Ugh… Sakoku Decree this, honor the Commissions that, I don’t understand any of it. If I’m ever left in charge, I’m sure that I could handle the bureaucratic side, but the people side? I get overwhelmed when talking to people I’m not comfortable with. I shut down mentally, fumble over my words and eventually I end up having a panic attack and Chisato has to pull me from the room. My father thought that I would have grown out of those outbursts when I got older, but I’ve only found a way to mask my behaviors. But you’re different, you haven’t looked at me like a child nor spoken less of me simply because I’m different, why is that?

About: Family: My mother passed away while I was gone, my father Shinsuke is the head of the Kanjou Commission and my younger sister Chisato is his main assistant. When my father gets upset, Chisato is always the one who has my back and in turn, I’ve begun escorting her secretly to Kondo Village to meet with her secret lover, Kujou Kamaji. I guess that’s what siblings do for each other, we protect each other from everything because no matter what we go through, no matter what arguments we have, we always will have each other. Ah, Traveler! I didn’t say anything to make you upset, did I?

About: Khaenri’ah: … You ask a lot of questions, don’t you? What do you think I know about that cursed place? Yeah, I wrote my Thesis paper on Khaenri’ah, but that was a while ago and I’ve learned my lesson. Now, the only connections I have to that place are hearsay from lecturers, rumors at the Academy and the plucked plume of a proud peacock.

About: Time Gap: Huh? Oh yeah, I went to Sumeru when I was seven and studied there for fourteen years. Uh… what did I do for the missing five years of my life before returning to Ritou? Ehe-he… I don’t think I’m allowed to say everything, but I can tell you this: that’s the time that I met a disgraced Knight, a bloodthirsty child and learned how to wield a sword. I was able to travel with them while writing my Thesis paper. Ah… how time flies when working with like minded people

This is the most thought I’ve ever put into an OC, I hope you like him!

#Just casually throws in that Yorichi is part of the same information gathering organization as Diluc #I really like Yorichi and I hope the rest of you do too #genshin impact #genshin impact oc #hiiragi yorichi #hydro character

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splendidly-secret-sick-fics · 3 years

Text

I’m Fine: An AtsuHina sick fic (Part 1)

@wraithpoison said:

an atsuhina sick fic please <3

This is a request from my other blog! I’m sorry it took me so long. Honestly, I had a lot of trouble with this one for some reason? I rewrote it like three times :/ and this one is actually going to be in two parts too! This part isn’t too AtsuHina heavy, but the next part will be.

I’m Fine: an AtsuHina sick fic (part 1)

Part 2

Pairing: Sick Atsumu, caretaker Hinata (also caretakers Rin & Osamu)

Word Count: 2,360

Trigger Warnings: vomiting, swearing, stressed Hinata :(

“I’ll be home as soon as I can, Tsumu,” Shoyo frowned at him through their FaceTime. Unfortunately, the redhead was in an airport, sitting at his gate waiting for his flight and not currently with Atsumu. He had headphones in, but they were picking up all of the noise around him and it made Atsumu’s head pound.

“I know, Sho. Try not to worry so much, alright? Imma big kid now. I can take care of a little fever by myself,” Atsumu responded sleepily. He was curled up in a blanket, lying on their couch.

The Jackals were given about 2 weeks off and Shoyo decided to use that time to go visit some of his friends in Brazil for a week. He invited Atsumu, but the latter declined, saying that he wanted to go home and see his mom.

Atsumu got home last night and Shoyo’s flight was set to arrive tomorrow morning. The plans worked out perfectly so that they’d have a week on their respective vacations and a week together.

While Atsumu was driving home last night, he started feeling lethargic and heavy and just overall Not Good. He brushed it off as exhaustion and went straight to bed when he got back, only to wake up this morning feeling worse. It didn’t take long for him to figure out that he had a fever. The sticky sweat that plastered his clothes to his body despite the chills he felt were a dead giveaway.

Shoyo called him when he got settled at the gate. Atsumu tried valiantly to appear healthy, but after 3 years of dating, Shoyo knew him entirely too well to be fooled. Now he was all anxious and trying to magically make the 24 hour journey from Rio to Tokyo happen in less time.

“I know, but I’m just worried. And I feel bad that I’m not there to help you,” Shoyo pouted. Atsumu rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine, Sho. I’ll see ya tomorrow and you can make me better with all the overdue cuddles I’m owed.”

Shoyo’s lips quirked up ever so slightly and Atsumu felt a little better.

“Did you take something?” Shoyo asked.

“Yeah.”

“Are you staying hydrated?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Did you call Samu and Rin to let them know?”

“I just texted them. They’ll come runnin’ if I need ‘em,” he sighed.

“Do you want me to order you some soup from that one restaurant?”

“What? Sho, no-“

“They’ll deliver! I can do it from here. The airport has wifi and I might have to pay for it but that’s okay and if it means that—“ Shoyo started rambling frantically and Atsumu’s head spun.

“Shoyo, hey. Shut up, will ya?” He chuckled and Shoyo’s mouth snapped shut.

“Sorry, Tsumu. I just wish I was home already,” he looked down. (Atsumu obviously wasn’t with his boyfriend, but if he knew him at all, Shoyo was nervously picking at the hem of his shirt.)

“I know. Me too,” Atsumu replied. Truth be told, he was feeling a lot worse than he let on. At the least, he hoped Shoyo couldn’t tell.

His head felt like it was being squeezed, he was congested, those chills were still pretty prevalent, his body felt like it weighed 1000 pounds and he felt vaguely nauseous.

That’s what he was most afraid of, honestly. He really, really didn’t want to throw up. He’s never liked it; never handled it well. Hopefully he could stave off the nausea, at least until Shoyo got home.

Shoyo looked back up at him and Atsumu wanted more than anything for him to be home right now so he could physically rub away the anxious lines on his boyfriend’s face.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured. Shoyo nodded.

“I’m gonna take a nap, okay? Yer flight leaves at midnight yer time right?” Again, Shoyo nodded. Perfect. That meant that he’d be home by noon tomorrow. It was about 10 in the morning in Tokyo (so 10 in the evening in Rio), so Atsumu only had to wait about 26 hours for Shoyo to get home. Hopefully, he’d be sleeping most of that time anyway.

“Okay,” he said, “can ya stop worrying? It’s just a little fever.” Shoyo groaned.

“Fine! Fine. As long as you promise to text your brother if you start feeling worse. Please don’t push yourself, Tsum-Tsum,” Shoyo all but begged. Atsumu gaped at him.

“Me? Overwork myself? I’m offended at the implication, babe” he teased. Shoyo rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m serious, Atsumu. You always push yourself more than you should. Don’t do that this time, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha. Honestly,” he resituated himself, “I’m prob’ly just gonna take a nap and order take out. I don’t feel much like doing anything anyway,” he shrugged. And oops, he probably shouldn’t have said that. Immediately, Shoyo became more suspicious.

“You? Agreeing to rest? Are you sure it’s just a fever?”

“‘Course!” Atsumu forced a laugh and Shoyo’s eyes narrowed. “Have I ever lied to you, baby?”

“Yes,” Shoyo deadpanned, “all the time.” Atsumu bristled.

“Not about anything important, though! And my health is important,” he assured.

“Atsumu, please take this seriously. Fevers are no joke, okay? I know that all too well,” Shoyo said, a serious look on his face. Atsumu wanted to wash it away. He frowned, remembering nationals his second year of high school, watching Shoyo collapse on the court. They may not have been close yet, but it was scary nonetheless.

“I know. And I promise I am taking care of myself, alright?” he said, no longer trying to joke, but simply reassure. He hated causing Shoyo any sort of anxiety.

“I’m gonna go now, okay?” He said and Shoyo nodded.

“Okay. Alright. Take a nap. Stay hydrated. Text Osamu if you need to. Don’t be all proud,” Shoyo instructed.

“Yes, yes, okay. I love you. Have a safe flight,” he smiled. Shoyo’s face brightened and Atsumu felt slightly reassured that maybe, just maybe, Shoyo wouldn’t spend his entire 24 hour journey home worrying about him.

“I love you, too. See you tomorrow,” Shoyo replied and with that, the call ended.

As soon as Shoyo’s face disappeared from his phone, Atsumu sank into the couch and exhaled exhaustedly. Keeping up the appearance that he felt alright took way more energy than he thought.

He curled up on his side and wrapped his blanket tighter around himself. A nap. That’s what he needed. If he was asleep, he could ignore the headache and the nausea and the chills. And hopefully, when he woke up, he’d feel better.

With that thought, Atsumu went to sleep.

***

Shoyo stared anxiously at the screen that previously had his boyfriend’s pale, flushed face displayed on it. Atsumu was definitely more sick than he let on and Shoyo might punch him later for lying, but for the time being, there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t make his trip home any shorter.

Instead of letting panic take hold, he did the next best thing. He texted Osamu and Rintaro.

From: Shoyo

“Did Atsumu text you guys?”

From: Osamu

“Yeah. Sorry your boyfriend’s an idiot.”

From: Rin

“Samu, while you’re absolutely correct and should say so, maybe not right now.”

“Don’t worry, Sho. Samu is an ass, but he’s worried too. We’re gonna go check on that pig later today.”

Shoyo breathed a huge sigh of relief towards the ceiling. Osamu doesn’t show it, but he does care about his brother. And Shoyo could always count on them.

From: Shoyo

“Thank you guys. Let me know how he’s doing?”

“I just got off FaceTime with him and he was putting up a brave front, but he didn’t look good.”

From: Osamu

“Of course he was. I gotcha, Shoyo. I’ll knock some sense into the big stupid.”

From: Rin

“In other words, yes, we’ll keep you updated and make sure that he’s well taken care of. Don’t stress. Just focus on getting home and leave the time in between to us.”

Shoyo did feel better knowing that Rin and Osamu were so close to Atsumu and could check up on him. He’d be okay. So, for the time being, all he could do was wait.

***

Atsumu woke up to conversation. He squeezed his eyes and shifted around, groaning. Whoever was talking needed to shut up. The tightness in his head hadn’t let up at all and he was absolutely freezing.

“Oh, yer awake. Finally.”

Atsumu scrunched his eyebrows together and blinked his eyes open, only to find his brother and Rin sitting on the love seat next to the couch.

“Samu?” He croaked.

“Yeah. We’re actually here. It’s not some crazy fever induced dream,” he said in his usual monotone.

“More like a nightmare,” Atsumu mumbled. He sat up and the room spun. He moaned and put his face in his hands.

“How are you feeling?” Rin asked him. Atsumu glanced at his phone. It was about two thirty in the afternoon. Twenty one and half hours until Shoyo was home.

“Fine,” he responded, but it was muffled by his hands. “I told you you guys I’d let ya know if I needed ya. Why’re you here?” He looked at them again.

“Shoyo asked us to come.” Rin shrugged.

“‘Course he did,” he sighed.

“Well, it’s a good thing we did. Ya look like shit,” Osamu said bluntly and stood up. He left the room, but came back a second later with some soup and a ginger ale.

“Eat. Then take some more meds and then we’ll get outta yer hair.”

Atsumu stared at the soup for a second and his stomach turned itself over. He really didn’t want to put anything in his body right now.

“Did ya poison it?” He tried to disguise the involuntary curl of his lip off as an insult towards his brother.

“Wha—no, you stupid pig, we didn’t poison it.” Osamu almost yelled, his eyebrows furrowing together. In fact, Atsumu was sure that if he wasn’t feeling so awful, his brother would have yelled and smacked him upside the head. But Osamu also happened to know Atsumu entirely too well.

“It’s from some restaurant that Shoyo told us about. He said it was your favorite,” Rin said, his tone quiet. Probably because Osamu knew Atsumu had a headache and warned Rin.

Atsumu felt his chest twist. Shoyo sent them? And told them about his favorite soup? Atsumu wanted to cry.

“Are you crying?” Rin asked, wide eyed. Oh, maybe he was crying. He couldn’t tell, honestly. His face was hot, regardless.

“Ppppfttt,” Osamu held back a laugh.

“Hey! Don’t be an ass. I don’t feel good and I miss my boyfriend,” Atsumu sniffled. “Need I remind ya of the time Rin was gone for a week and ya whined to me about it nightly,” he shot back. Osamu shut up.

“Just eat it,” was all he said. Atsumu must look at lot worse than he thinks because Osamu wasn’t fighting back. He only did that when he knew Atsumu really wasn’t feeling good—physically or mentally.

Staring at the soup, he couldn’t help the twist of his face again.

“Tsumu,” Osamu sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Does yer stomach hurt?”

Atsumu blushed (or was that his fever?) and shook his head rapidly.

“No! It’s...it’s fine. I’m fine,” he said probably too hastily.

“Don’t lie, please.” Osamu put a hand on his hip and stared Atsumu down. Rin looked between them curiously. Atsumu glared at his brother.

“It’s a little uneasy. But I’m fine,” he insisted.

“Are ya sure you don’t want us to stay with ya until Shoyo gets back?” Osamu asked gently. From the corner of his eye, Atsumu saw Rin’s eyes widen at the abrupt softness coming from Osamu.

Atsumu hesitated. Did he want them to stay? They were offering. It’s not like he was inconveniencing them in any way. Osamu may be a dick, but he was still his brother. And if he was going to puke later, he’d want someone else here. He opened his mouth to say yes please stay I don’t want to be alone, but was cut off by Sunarin.

“Samu, we can’t stay. We promised Akaashi we’d take the twins overnight since they went out of town with Kuroo and Kenma,” Sunarin said. He pulled his lips into a tight line and picked at his fingernails.

Clearly, he didn’t want to leave Atsumu alone. But the Bokuto twins were handfuls at best and nightmares at worst. There was no way that Rin could watch them alone. And Atsumu couldn’t very well go over there and risk getting them sick.

Osamu looked between the two of them and bit his lip.

“Rin, would you mind if—“

“It’s fine, Samu,” Atsumu interrupted. It wasn’t fine.

Osamu’s eyes burned holes into Atsumu’s face. He knew. He knew that Atsumu was nauseas. He knew that Atsumu hated vomiting. Atsumu appreciated it, he did. But he didn’t need his brother to come to his rescue.

“Sho will be home tomorrow morning. It’s fine. I’ll call if I need ya,” he tried to sound confident, but his voice shook. His throat hurt.

Osamu obviously didn’t believe him, the frown on his face and the pull of his eyebrows giving him away. He exhaled through his lips and nodded.

“Okay. But seriously, you can call if ya need to,” he resigned and sat down beside Atsumu on the couch.

Rin and Osamu stayed for a few more hours until they absolutely had to leave. Osamu was still reluctant and it made Atsumu happy when he remembered how much his brother cared, despite the way it looked to outsiders. With another promise to call if he needed to, the two of them left Atsumu alone once more.

He surveyed his body.

Headache? Crushing.

Fever? Scorching.

Body Aches? Heavy.

Nausea? Prevalent.

He moaned and curled tightly in on himself once more. The DVD player under the TV said it was nearly five pm. A little more than 17 hours until Shoyo was home. He could do this. He’d be fine.

***

He was not fine. He was absolutely not fine.

Atsumu heaved into the toilet, gripping the seat tightly. Everything happened so fast. One second he was asleep on the couch and in the next second he was sprinting to the bathroom, just barely making it before projectile vomiting into the toilet.

The room around him swirled and his throat burned with every aborted heave. What time was it? Would Shoyo be home soon? He felt so so terrible. It was so hot. Sweat covered every inch of his body, making it difficult to keep his hold on the toilet. Despite that, he was still trembling. His fever was probably way too high. He should do something about that, right?

His stomach lurched again and he belched wetly, but swallowed down whatever tried to come up. He refused. The loss of control that accompanied throwing up made him feel helpless and horrible and dammit what was that high pitched whine? It cut through his brain like a knife.

Finally, he was granted a reprieve and gasping, he sat back on his heels. He needed to move, needed to do something while he had the time. If he knew his body at all, he knew this was going to be a long fight that he would inevitably lose. It was such a surprise he didn’t have time to prepare. He wiped at his face.

Oh, he was crying. That was probably the whining that still hadn’t stopped. Pathetic.

Okay, it was fine. He could do this. Grabbing onto the sink, he hoisted himself up on unsteady legs.

In the next fifteen minutes, he managed to grab a blanket, a pillow, his phone, some crackers (not that he really wanted to eat them) and one of Shoyo’s nasty fruity sports drinks. The whole endeavor took way longer than it should have, but all of his movements were sluggish and difficult. It also became blatantly obvious that the battle against his stomach was not one he was going to win.

Just the thought of puking more kept a steady flow of tears streaming down his cheeks the entire trip.

Finally, he made it back to the bathroom and set up camp for the night. Smacking the screen of his phone, he checked the time.

“12:27 am” taunted him. Less than 12 hours. Good. He managed to sleep for around 5 hours.

Nausea swirled in his gut and he whimpered. Several unproductive heaves later, he was left reeling.

Somewhere in the haze of his mind, he thought to contact his brother. He couldn’t open his mouth though. No chance. Then he’d for sure puke. Where was Shoyo? He wanted Shoyo.

He picked up his phone in shaking fingers and sent a slew of what he hoped were coherent texts to their group chat with Osamu and Rin. Slowly but surely, he was losing his grasp on his surroundings, the fever messing with his brain.

Help. He needed help. He was scared.

Disgusting gurgles sounded from his stomach and he choked on a sob. He rested a cheek on the toilet seat, and gagged.

“No, no no no,” he cried, but he couldn’t stop it. He was too sick. Too weak. Too tired. Instead of trying to force it back down, he dropped his jaw and burped. Vomit poured out of his mouth and he sobbed between heaves.

When the fit ended, he collapsed onto the floor, gasping and crying. Why was this happening? Where was Shoyo? Why wasn’t his boyfriend here? Did he get tired of Atsumu and leave him? What about Osamu? Was he sick of Atsumu too?

Of course. Of course they were.

Shoyo. He just wanted his boyfriend. Why wasn’t he here? Why why why what did Atsumu do to chase him away?

Those were the last thoughts that plagued Atsumu’s mind before his surroundings faded away completely.

#haikyuu sickfic #sick atsumu #caretaker hinata #vomiting #atsuhina #side pairing sunaosa #suna rintarou #miya osamu #miya atsumu #hinata shoyo #my fic #tw vomit #request

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atc74 · 3 years

Text

Soul to Souls - Nineteen

Warnings: Pregnancy, labor, lots of language, fluff

Summary: Since she was four years old, Annaleigh has seen the same boy in her dreams. For twenty-five years, she grows to love the boy that has now turned into a man. Dean Winchester just lost the only family he has ever known. The guilt drives him to work harder than ever before. He works to forget the pain, until he meets Annaleigh and she turns his world upside down. What she learns changes both of their lives forever, but what will he do when he discovers the truth? Will he accept it or run back to the only life he has ever known?

Pairing: Dean x OC Annaleigh

Word Count: 2259

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, @katehuntington, thank you both for being my guides! Dividers and cover art by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89.

A/N: This was my very first series I ever wrote four years ago in September 2016 and I am so happy and proud to bring this back home. Thank you to everyone that is enjoying the story so far. You’re probably going to get a couple chapters a week, trying to wrap this up before the new series starts.

Only one chapter left! 😢

Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

Soul to Souls Master List

Previously...

Only a few days from her due date, Annaleigh sat quietly in the nursery one night, sleep eluding her as she was not able to get comfortable much anymore. Her eyes were closed, and she absentmindedly rubbed her swollen belly, thinking about how happy she was with their life and how much things had changed over the last five and a half years, how much they had lost and how much they had gained. She didn’t even open her eyes when she heard the fluttering of wings in the room.

“Hi Cas,” she said quietly.

“Hey, girl.” The gruff voice had her bolting upright, her eyes flying open.

“Bobby?” her words were barely a whisper, as she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

Now...

“Yeah, Kid, it’s me. The powers that be finally decided I could show myself to you. It’s been hard being here with the kids most nights and not being able to talk to you. I know Dean is treatin’ ya right though; I can feel it in him. That boy loves you.”

“Dean!” Annaleigh wanted her husband to be here with her, with Bobby. Anna heard him call out to her, and she laughed as he turned the corner too fast in his socked feet, slipping as he entered the nursery.

“Red! Are you okay? What’s wrong?” She heard the fear in his voice as he reached her side.

Panic had rushed through him when he heard Annaleigh yell for him and she wasn’t in their bed. They only had days to go until the newest Winchester arrived and Dean was nervous she would go into labor any minute.

Standing before him was Bobby, stopping Dean dead in his tracks.

“Bobby?” He couldn’t really believe it was him.

“Yeah, it’s me, Son.” Dean embraced Bobby with all his might; he was so happy to see him.

“God, I missed you, old man,” Dean whispered over Bobby’s shoulder.

Bobby looked around the nursery casually. “I love what you’ve done with the place. I think she is going to love it.”

“Thanks, Bobby. Sam and I have been working on - wait, what?” Dean stuttered. “Did you say ‘she’?”

“Oops, I don’t think I was supposed to tell. One of the perks of being an angel, I guess,” Bobby replied sheepishly.

“It’s a girl?” Anna asked, getting up from the rocker and slowly walking over to Bobby. “Are you sure?”

Bobby reached out and placed his hands over Anna’s stomach, a pale blue glow emanating from his palms. “Yeah, Annaleigh, I’m sure, and she is as beautiful as her Mama.” A single tear rolled down his face and disappeared into his unruly beard.

Dean watched as Bobby embraced his wife before he joined, wrapping his arms around both of them, really feeling like their family was complete. Even if Bobby couldn’t be here physically with them, they knew he was always here.

Despite her due date coming and going, Dr. Sullivan had assured Anna and Dean that their baby and Annaleigh were perfectly healthy and, as long as that didn’t change, she didn’t want to risk inducing labor and causing undue stress on both mother and baby. Cas dropped by every few days and confirmed the doctor’s decision. Number three was just not ready to make her debut just yet - the Winchesters liked to make a dramatic entrance. Robby and Millie certainly had, arriving almost a month early.

Dean’s birthday was coming, and the birthday tradition for her husband meant pie, not cake. With the kids at preschool and Dean at his brother’s, Anna took advantage of the quiet and spent the morning making a pecan and an apple pie for him, since those were his favorite. She had invited Sam, and of course Jody over for his birthday dinner the next night, along with Bobby and Cas, if they could manage.

Exhaustion calling her as she yawned widely, Anna laid down on the couch for a little snooze, texting Dean first.

Before she knew it, Dean was waking her gently from her cocoon on the couch. The kids were already washed and seated at the table, waiting patiently for supper. Dean helped her to her feet, and she shuffled off to the bathroom before her bladder exploded.

Dean was serving dinner when she returned to the dining room, and she gladly accepted his offer to make her plate and pour the milk. He has been taking such good care of her, a girl could get used to it. Robby and Millie led a short Grace before they ate.

“Thank you Lord for this food and for Mama and Daddy,” Robby started.

“Thank you for the snow and for Grampa. But, God, if you are listening, could you please bring my baby sister?” Millie ended the Grace with Amen, and Dean and Anna both chuckled a little.

“Millie, I am excited for her to get here too, but sometimes babies don’t come when they are supposed to. You and your brother didn’t,” Anna offered.

“I know, Mama, but I’m just really excited to meet her and give her a real name besides ‘baby sister’,” Millie confessed to her parents.

Once dinner was over, Dean cleared the dishes and put away the leftovers. It was nearing bathtime for both kids, and Anna slowly made her way towards the stairs when she felt the warmth trickle down her legs.

“Dean!” she called from the base of the stairs, holding onto the banister for support.

“Yeah, Red?” Dean answered as he rounded the corner from the kitchen. He saw Anna clutching the banister with a puddle at her feet.

“Dean, my water just broke,” Anna grimaced, trying to stay upright as the first contraction hit her.

“I know, Red. I can see it.” He helped her sit down on the stairs. “Stay right here. I’ll be right back with a change of clothes for you. I’m gonna call Jody to come stay with the twins.” He raced up the stairs, yelling for the kids and reaching for his phone.

“Jody, it’s Dean. Yeah, it’s time. Can you come stay with Robby and Millie?...Yeah, I’ll have Sam stay until you can get here...I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sticking around and helping...Thank you so much.” Dean placed the next call to Sam.

“Sammy, it’s time. Jody’s coming, but we need you right now,” Dean panted as he rushed from room to room. “Yes, Sam...I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you stuck around...now can we worry about your love life when my wife isn’t in labor?...’Kay, thanks, Sammy.”

Robby and Millie ran into their bedroom, holding hands. “Daddy?” they said in unison, watching him scramble around the room looking for clothes for his wife.

“Uncle Sam is going to come stay with you until Jody gets here. I’m going to take Mommy to the hospital. I think your baby sister is finally going to come tonight,” Dean said excitedly to the children.

“YAY! Baby Sister! Baby Sister!” They screamed in unison, jumping up and down.

Dean ran back down the stairs to find his wife still sitting there, breathing and counting. Easing her to her feet and into the small bathroom off the kitchen, Dean gingerly held her while helping her slip off her soaking wet pants and underwear, then pulling on clean bottoms. “How far apart, Red?”

“Best guess is four to five minutes, I don’t really know,” Annaleigh breathed out.

Sam was waiting for them when they emerged, a child in each arm. “Don’t worry, guys, I got this. Go have my niece! Call me with updates.”

Dean grabbed the two bags that had been packed by the front door for a month, running them out to the car, then went back for Anna, helping her slowly down the porch steps and into the car. Once they were both secured, he backed out of the driveway and sped off towards the hospital.

Dean was grateful for the cakewalk this pregnancy had been, for Anna’s sake. Even almost two weeks overdue, it had been much easier on her than the first. Dean was also ecstatic to have another baby with this extraordinary woman. About fifteen minutes later, he pulled up in front of the hospital’s emergency entrance. He jumped out quickly, grabbing a wheelchair and helped Annaleigh into it, pushing her through the double doors.

After they were checked in, a nurse came to get her and gave Dean her room number. She let him know they were going to get her settled. He knew she was in capable hands, but he reluctantly left her side to park the car. Immediately upon returning to the maternity ward, he could hear his wife screaming his name and swearing. He wasn’t sure he deserved it; it wasn’t entirely his fault, but he would gladly take whatever she dished out. Dean entered the room, and a nurse threw him a set of scrubs. He quickly changed into the scrubs and rushed to his wife’s side. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him down to her, her face flushed, sweat already beading on her porcelain skin.

“You did this to me! You fucker! I hate you!” Anna bellowed at him and he let her, taking it like a good husband should when their wife is pushing the next generation into the world.

“Ok, Annaleigh, all done with that one. Take some deep breaths and the doctor will be right in to check on you,” the nurse spoke calmly and Anna stopped yelling.

Reaching up, she cupped Dean’s stubbled cheek, and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes, relishing in the calm her touch provided, even when she was the one doing all the work. “I love you, Dean. I am so happy we are having another baby. Thank you for giving me a family.”

“I love you too, Red. We wouldn’t have this family if it wasn’t for you. You are strong and brave. You are my rock. You are the best mama ever and we are lucky to have you.” He placed small kisses over her head and forehead, trailing down to her mouth. She kissed him with a passion and energy he didn’t think she could muster during labor, but he had learned long ago never to underestimate her, ever.

They were interrupted by a throat being cleared as the doctor entered the room. “Hi Annaleigh, how are you doing?” Doctor Sullivan inquired, coming around the foot of the bed. “Let’s take a look at your progress. The nurse says your contractions are pretty strong, so let’s see how far along you are.” The doctor lifted up the sheet and did a quick exam before she removed her gloves and turned to them.

“Okay, mom, you are dilated to six centimeters and are moving along well. This baby should be making an appearance in just a few hours. I’ll have one of the nurses come check on you in a bit.” With that, she was gone.

“Dean, did you hear that? There is a good chance she’ll be born on your birthday.” Anna looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes, glistening with tears.

“Red, I couldn’t ask for a better birthday present,” Dean leaned down and kissed her again.

The next couple of hours went by quickly, nurses checking in every few minutes during contractions until, finally, it was time. The doctor came into the room and told Anna to start pushing, which she did like a champ. Their daughter arrived kicking and screaming in less than ten minutes, weighing seven pounds, fourteen ounces and just over twenty inches long.

Doctor Sullivan looked at the clock, officially announcing the time of birth as 1:07am, January the 24th. They had a birthday baby, and Dean couldn’t hide his smile or tears. He turned to his wife, kissing her full on the mouth. “Red, I am so proud of you. Thank you so much for this gift.”

A nurse handed Dean a pink bundle, and he looked down at her with so much love in his heart, kissing her little head before passing her to his wife. “She is so beautiful, Red.”

“We never talked about it, so what are we going to name her, Dean?” Anna and Dean exchanged options quietly, sneaking glances down at their new daughter, finally landing on the one they both loved.

No one else would have noticed over the hustle and bustle in the room, but if you knew what you were listening for, you could hear it. They both glanced up to see Bobby standing silently in the corner, waiting for everyone to clear out so he could be alone with his family and meet his new granddaughter. Once the delivery staff left the family alone, he made his way over the edge of the bed.

“Hey pretty girl,” he cooed over the new baby, just like he had with the twins.

“Bobby, meet your granddaughter, Samantha Karen Winchester, but you can call her Sammie,” Anna declared, watching the old man cry for only the fourth time in her life.

“She’s gonna be tickled pink when I tell her,” Bobby sniffed as he cradled the newborn in his arms. His wet eyes flicked up to meet Dean’s. “Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary, Bobby. We couldn’t think of any better way to honor her memory than to name this little one after her,” Dean expressed. “She would have been a wonderful grandma.”

“Yeah, she woulda,” the old man sniffed, letting his emotions take over.

Bobby stayed at the hospital for a little longer, until Anna was too tired to keep her eyes open. She tried to deny it, but he knew better. He left the hospital to check in on the rest of his family. The twins were sleeping soundly, holding hands as usual. Bobby slowly made his way down the stairs, knowing it would be faster to fly, but not wanting the flutter of his wings to wake Sam. He didn’t expect to find him curled up on the sofa with Jody in a cocoon of blankets to ward against the chilly winter night. He found himself smiling, proud of the boys he had raised and the men they had become.

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

Soul to Souls tags: @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @iwantthedean @jensengirl83 @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @kbl1313 @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @princessmisery666 @shy-violet-soul @lastcallatrockysbar @winchesterxfamilybusiness @fangirlxwritesx67 @squirrelnotsam @michellethetvaddict @magssteenkamp @wonder-cole

#dean x annaleigh #dean x ofc #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut

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wemayhavestartedthefiresorry · 4 years

Text

“Six or Seven what? Beers? Shots? Gallons?”

pairing: reader x tony stark

summary: Peter brings you to Tony’s house after a frat party. You’ve been drinking a lot and you drunkenly confess your crush on Tony. (AU where Tony is still alive after the snap and Pepper isn’t in the picture lmao.)

warnings: age gap, PTSD from the snap, mentions of alcoholism, angst, fluff, angry Tony, drunk reader

note: This one shot doesn’t really fit into the series in cannon. Reader is assumed to have helped the avengers with Thanos. I’m LIVING for angry Tony >:) I’m not a fan of Pepper Potts so lmao shes gone BYE

Tony sat in his workshop working on something that you had no chance at understanding. Especially since you were blackout drunk. Peter held your arm as the both of you walked down the steps. His music was loud but Tony often had it that way. So he didn’t notice as you stumbled down the stairs.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter tried to speak over the music but with no luck. Tony was facing the other way. You looked at him in your drunken stupor, he was terrified. “Mr. Stark?!” He yelled again, but to no avail. You couldn’t help but giggle. You wiggled yourself loose from Peter’s gentle grip and ran over to Tony. He was working on something that looked small, maybe a microchip or something smart. You carelessly wrapped your arms around him, giving him a back hug and effectively scaring the shit out of him. He looked over his shoulder with his eyebrows furled.

“FRIDAY, pause my playlist.” He called out. The music ceased almost instantly.

“Hi Tony!” you smiled widely, still hugging him.

“Who let you in here? Was it FRIDAY?” He looked at you, then Peter. “If you haven’t noticed, I have a strict ‘no children’ policy in my workshop.”

“I know, I’m sorry Mr. Stark. It’s just-”

“I’m not a child! I’m twenty three and 4 months old!” You blurted out. “Maybe you’re just older than dirt- no, older than dinosaur bones.” You laughed at your own joke, no one else did...

“You’re two hundred and eighty months old, you’re essentially an infant. Are you going to get off of me anytime soon?” Tony said.

Peter began to ramble. “We went to a party at a frat house and (Y/N) was doing shots and I was trying to get her to stop but she kept going and I didn’t know what to do and I can’t remember where she lives and she wouldn’t tell me because she didn’t want to leave the party and then she kept saying she just wanted to see you so I brought her here and I’m really sorry Mr. Stark-”

“Were you drinking too?” He interrupted.

“No, I wasn’t. I swear Mr. Stark I didn’t even look at any of the alcohol-”

“It’s okay, kid. I believe you. But you better keep it that way or I'm taking the suit.”

“No, sir. I mean- yes, sir.”

“How did you get here?”

“I took an uber.”

“FRIDAY, get the kid a ride back home.” Tony called out.

“Yes, sir.” FRIDAY responded. “A car will be out front for Mr. Parker.”

“It’s Friday Friday, gotta get down on Friday-” You began to sing off key.

“Thank you Mr. Stark.” Peter said.

“Yeah, we’ll talk more about this tomorrow...” He trailed off, looking down at the leech attached to him. Peter made his way back up the stairs to catch his ride. Tony was so warm, you didn’t want to let go. Usually you’re reserved in the way you act in front of your crushes but you were too drunk to care.

“So are you going to let go or am I your new life source now?” He asked. You peered up at him with a goofy smile but you got the hint and decided to let go. He turned around to face you. “My god,” He sniffed the air. “You smell like a distillery, and that means a lot coming from me. I literally own a distillery.”

“That’s weird,” You cocked your head to the side, “I haven’t been to a distillery.” you slurred. But something across the room caught your attention; the bar. You walked towards it to make another drink. Tony caught on to your plan quickly.

“Oh no you don’t,” He quickly stepped in front of you and crossed his arms. “I think you’ve had enough.”

“C’mon Tony, have a drink with me. I’d much rather drink with you than with some stupid frat boys anyway.” You turned away from him and took a seat in one of his desk chairs. “You’re more my speed. I don’t like hanging out with people my age, they’re too immature.”

“Yep, you’re definitely the poster boy for maturity right now. How much exactly did you drink?” He asked.

“Hm” You started to count on your fingers and mumble to yourself. You couldn’t remember how much you had actually drank. You took a guess. “Six- maybe seven.”

“Six or seven what? Beers? Shots? Gallons?”

“Maybe eight,” You got distracted and started to play with the spinny chair.

“You’re going to make yourself dizzy- Y/N, stop that.” You didn’t listen to him. “If you throw up on my floor I’m sending you the dry cleaning bill.” He said, but you still didn’t listen. He gave up and walked over and stopped the chair from spinning by grabbing the armrests. Leaving you and him face to face. For a moment you got so lost in his eyes that you forgot where you were.

“You know, you’re kinda cute when you're angry.” You reached out and pinched his cheek. You giggled, he wasn’t happy.

“That’s it, sport. You’re going home. FRIDAY-” He called out, but you cut him off before he got the chance to send you home.

“Jeez, Tony,” You whined. “Don’t be such a party pooper. I thought you were supposed to be the fun one.”

“Oh, I am.” He raised his eyebrows. Suddenly he seemed very annoyed, oops. “What’s not fun is taking a high schooler to a college party, getting blackout drunk, and making him take care of you.” His anger was subtle and masked with sarcasm but it sobered you a little bit. Your smile began to fade.

“I-” You were at a loss for words. Tony had never expressed anger at you before. “I’m sorry…”

“What you did tonight was at best irresponsible and at worst dangerous.” His temper was rising, you could tell he was reaching his boiling point. “What were you thinking? You know what, don’t answer that.” He held his finger up. “You” He pointed, “are going home.”

“Tony, I'm sorry. I mean it. It was a stupid mistake.” You began, getting more and more upset by the moment. Tears started to sting at your eyes and your voice trembled. “I won’t do it again. I just can’t be alone after everything that happened. Drinking is the only thing that makes me feel okay and I just-” You felt a tear drip down your cheek. For the past few months you had been having trouble with your PTSD from the Thanos snap. Even though it was all over, the trauma still scarred you. You used alcohol to cope.

“Shhh,” Tony’s expression softened. If anyone understood that struggle, it was him. “It's okay.”

“Please don’t be angry at me, I can’t-” you choked out as you tried to hold back your tears. “I can’t handle you being angry at me. I can handle when Steve is mad at me, I can handle when Clint is mad at me, hell, I can even handle when Nat is mad at me. But you? Not you.” Tony pulled you into a hug, petting your hair with his hand. You let yourself cry onto his t-shirt.

“I’m not angry at you. It’s okay…” He cooed. “I understand it more than anyone, trust me.” His chest was soft and warm, you loved the way his expensive cologne smelled. It seemed like a mix of pine and spice. It smelled like home. You pulled back to look him in the face. Through your dizzy drunkenness, you could feel the tension between you two. Looking into his eyes made your stomach flutter, you were sure that he felt it too. After a momentary pause, you leaned in and kissed his lips. He barely kissed back, but he didn’t reject it either. The kiss was quick, kind of like an experiment. You pulled back and stared at him, waiting for a chemical reaction. He stayed confused.

“I’ve always wanted to kiss you.” You said, breaking the silence. “I’ve liked you for a while but I’ve been too shy to say anything.” You anxiously awaited his response.

“(Y/N), I’m old enough to be your father-”

“I don’t care.” You cut him off. “I like you. I want to be with you. You’re the only person that truly makes me feel safe and that’s why I wanted to come here. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I want to be with you.” There was a long pause. Tony seemed to be thinking very carefully about what to say next. He looked at you with a mix of confusion and sympathy.

“Let’s talk about this tomorrow. I think we should get you to bed.”

“Okay…” You said, slightly disappointed but understanding that he didn’t want to talk about it. You walked up the stairs with him and he brought you to the guest room. You peered in through the open door as you stood in the frame. It was roomy and looked comfortable, but the whole reason you didn’t want to go home is because you didn’t want to sleep alone.

“You can sleep in here. I’ll just be right down the hallway, okay?” he said.

“Okay.” You replied. He began to walk away but suddenly you got the courage to speak up. “Tony?” you called to him and he turned around. “Can I sleep with you tonight?” You asked timidly. He paused for a moment.

“Sure, just for tonight.” you smiled. “But if you throw up I’m kicking you out.” He teased, you giggled as you walked towards his room. “I’m being completely serious.” You waltzed into his room and flopped down on his bed. He turned around and started rifling through his dresser.

“You can borrow my clothes to sleep in,” He said with his back turned. “I’ll probably have to incinerate them tomorrow to get the smell of whiskey out of it but here-” He turned around to look at you, but while he had been looking for pajamas you had already fallen asleep.

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and sat up, groaning with exhaustion. You looked around at the room. Tony had fallen asleep on the comfy chair on the other side of the room, he was passed out. You looked down at your clothes. You weren’t wearing what you left the house in last night. Suddenly nausea overcame you and you ran to the bathroom as quickly as you could to throw up in the toilet. You leaned over the porcelain bowl and yacked for a while, but you felt better afterwards. You took a deep breath, washed your face and mouth out in the sink, and walked back into Tony’s room. Clearly you stirred him with your vomiting because he had already woken up and left the room. You crawled back in bed wearing Tony’s oversize t-shirt and no pants, you covered your legs with the soft plush blanket. Tony walked in.

“Good morning, Dionysus. How’s your head?” He sat at the end of the bed with a glass of water and an aspirin. You winced in pain.

“It’s just peachy, thank you.”

“Here, take this.” He handed it to you and without hesitation, you took it.

“What happened last night?” You asked, your memory was still hazy.

“Peter brought you here after you went to a frat party and you refused to go to your own home. You passed out on my bed but not before confessing your crush on me.” He stated very matter-of-factly. You could tell he was basking in the fact that you were reaping the consequences of your actions. Your stomach dropped. It all came back to you… the crying, the kiss, the confession.

“Oh no,” You shut your eyes tightly.

“Oh yes, and I believe you mentioned that I’m older than dirt. Or was it ‘older than dinosaur bones’?” You cringed. You couldn’t believe you said that to his face. “You’re quite the flirt when you drink.” You looked down at your clothes and suddenly a big question hit you.

“Oh my god, did we…?”

“Absolutely not, you came in and passed out on my bed. I figured you didn’t want to sleep in a leather skirt so I changed you…” A moment of silence hung in the air. “Don’t flatter yourself, I didn’t look.” He avoided eye contact.

“Thank you…” You felt bad for being such a pain when he was being so kind to you. “I’m sorry for um, saying all that stuff to you last night. But also for the kiss...” You took a deep breath trying to build up the courage to talk about your feelings. “I’ve had a crush on you for a while…” You awaited his response.

“I know,” He said to your surprise.

“You knew?” You said in disbelief.

“I’ve always known, Y/N. I see the way you look at me, I’m not stupid.”

“W-why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“You’re half my age, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Tony, that doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care about how old you are.” You assured him.

“Your drunk alter ego seems to care.” He teased.

Are you saying you feel the same way?” You asked, trying to make sense of everything.

“Yeah-” Before he could finish his sentence you cut him off with a kiss, a sober one this time. You felt him lean into you, caressing your face in his hand. Despite the age gap, it felt right. You felt safe. As your lips disconnected, you locked eyes with him. He sighed.

“What?” you asked.

“I need to find you a toothbrush,” You cracked a smile. “You smell terrible too. I’ll turn on the shower for you.” He stood up and walked out of the room. Although your head was pounding, your heart was full with joy. Tony was finally yours.

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Duality, Chapter 3 (Crygi) - Metaluna

Chapter summary: *Stefon from Saturday Night Live voice* this chapter has everything, awkward morning afters, time jumps, anniversary sex, and fluff

A/N: I am SO sorry that I keep forgetting to submit to here, especially if you only read fics on here, but as a reminder all of my fics on ao3 (this has two more chapters oops)

When Crystal woke up, there was a quilt delicately draped over her body. The events of the previous night were foggy. As she thought about it further, she wasn’t sure if she was remembering correctly. Crystal remembered going home with Gigi, and remembered having sex. Amazing sex. But, halfway through, she could have sworn that Gigi bit her leg, and upon thinking even further, could have sworn Gigi said she was a vampire.

Impossible.

Crystal sat up and looked around. It was still dark outside, meaning she could probably step away, unnoticed, and could try her best to forget about the fact she may or may not have slept with a fucking vampire. She carefully put her dress on, looking at the torn-up thong on the ground, with a sigh. It was her favorite. Crystal realized Gigi was nowhere to be found, but the door was shut, and she could see the light coming from underneath.

Crystal knew her plans of sneaking out without Gigi noticing were slim, but she tried to formulate a game plan. She looked out the window, but then remembered they were on the third floor. For a second, Crystal tried to determine how injured she would get if she jumped out of a third story window.

There was no other way than to just walk through the front door. It was a one-night stand, what did Gigi expect?

She slowly opened the door, and saw that Gigi was sitting on the couch, petting a cat, watching a movie. Crystal knew it was stupid, but she tried her best to sneak behind Gigi, who appeared to be engrossed in the movie

Gigi turned her head as Crystal swore silently. “You’re awake.”

“Uh-huh. I was just leaving…”

“Why?” Gigi asked, genuinely curious.

“You’re joking, right?” Gigi raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have a lot of one-night stands, do you?”

Gigi shook her head.

“Well, generally, one doesn’t stay and chat afterwards. In fact, ideally, the person who the apartment doesn’t belong to can wake up before the other person, and can leave, never to be seen again.”

“What do you remember about last night?” Gigi asked.

“I remember you tearing my thong off of me. I remember that the sex was incredible . But, I remember something weird… But I probably just had a dream or something.”

“What do you supposedly remember?”

“You had… fangs… You asked for me to consent, like, a lot, which is great. Consent is key. Anyway, you said you were… a vampire. Which, like, isn’t possible. Vampires aren’t real.”

“They’re not?”

To Crystal’s surprise, after Gigi smiled as two fangs slid down from where her canines were.

“What the fuck?” Crystal whispered.

“If you’d like, I can make you forget about everything. This past night, my vampirism, me as a whole…”

Crystal bit her lip as she weighed the pros and cons. The pros included she’d forget about vampires existing. The cons were that she’d forget quite possibly the best sex she’d ever had, and that she’d forget about vampires existing.

“No…” Crystal trailed off.

“Are you certain?”

Crystal shook her head. “But uh, I think I’m going to leave to process this.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Do you uh, want my number? Honestly that was great sex. I’m down to fuck again.”

Gigi smirked. “I’m glad to know that it was good. I’ve unfortunately been in about a twenty-year dry spell.”

Crystal was taken aback. “When I process this can we maybe talk? About… things? If you want? Or you can just fuck me again… If you want.”

“Are you serious?” Gigi asked incredulously. “You’re asking me to fuck you again when you passed out once you came last night?”

Crystal flushed. “You’re right. Do you want my number or not?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” Gigi said, petting the cat next to her as she handed Crystal her phone.

As Crystal handed back her phone, Gigi stifled a laugh. “Your name is not Crystal Methyd.”

Once again, Crystal flushed. “My parents hate me… Anyway. This was… something. Call me. If you want. Or don’t. I’m sure you’re busy… With whatever it is you do.”

“Servicing dead bodies?” Gigi smirked, repeating Crystal’s comment from the previous night.

“Yeah. That. Okay, bye.”

Gigi didn’t know how a human was going to react when told they just had sex with a vampire. She thought she was going to have to glamour the girl, thinking that she would be traumatized. To Gigi’s surprise, Crystal not only was calm about the entire situation, but also seemed intrigued. Again, proving Crystal was not like other humans.

Akasha meowed as she rubbed her head against Gigi’s hand.

“I know, Akasha. For the first time in nearly a century, I’m at a loss.”

In an attempt to get her mind off of Crystal and the events of the night, Gigi decided to watch The Lost Boys . She began thinking more about Crystal, not realizing that the movie had ended.

Shutting the TV off, she looked at her phone. It was still on the contacts screen. Crystal wrote her name as Crystal Methyd with the blood drop emoji after it. She decided to text her so Crystal could save her number, at least that’s what she told herself, even though she didn’t fully believe it.

Hello. This is Gigi. I just figured you would want to have my number, too.

Checking the time, it was only five in the morning, meaning Crystal was probably asleep. Considering Gigi drank enough blood to nearly kill Crystal, she more than likely would need to sleep it off.

To Gigi’s surprise, Crystal texted back ten minutes later.

oh hi! it’s good to hear from you! tbh i thought you were gonna ghost me

Gigi wasn’t sure why Crystal didn’t capitalize anything in her sentences. Why wouldn’t anyone use proper grammar? It’s not like it was hard.

Are you feeling okay? You should probably get some sleep. If I’m being honest, I took a little bit more blood than I intended. Heat of the moment.

omg i cant believe a hot vampire almost killed me purely from being too horny. anyway yea i just happened to wake up for a sec and saw the notif

I… honestly don’t know how to respond to that, because you are 100 percent correct. Which I hate.

lmaoo usually i take at LEAST two days to text a girl, and at minimum three to ask her out. but, do you wanna meet up later?

Gigi was genuinely shocked at Crystal’s confidence.

That sounds wonderful, I had nothing planned today.

how about the park? what time is good for you? also wont you like burst into flames or something if it’s daytime?

…I don’t sleep. Also, you can’t believe every myth about vampires you hear in popular culture. I don’t particularly enjoy the sun, but I’ll be fine.

omg, good to know. so, i feel really tired which now i know is because your horny vampire ass lost control. can i text you when i wake up?

Gigi rolled her eyes.

I’m choosing to ignore the middle part of that sentence. Yes, text me when you feel up to it.

Part of Crystal didn’t want to text Gigi once she woke up. When she thought about the fact that she had sex with a really fucking hot vampire, she couldn’t believe it. It sounded insane. Another part of Crystal wanted to text her back asking her to Men in Black her so that she couldn’t remember the night. The last part of Crystal wanted to text Gigi back, talk to her, and hook up again. The sex was incredible, and she felt selfish for falling asleep before she could fuck her back. It was only fair for them to hook up at least one more time.

She wasn’t going to do it. She was going to just try to forget the one-night stand and go on with her life. Crystal had work to do for the museum, especially if she was going to impress her boss, Sasha, enough for a promotion. Becoming the creative director of the Chicago Museum of Visual Arts was more important than sex could ever be.

Just as she decided she wasn’t going to meet up with Gigi, she overheard her roommates argue about dishes. It wasn’t arguing, it was more of a screaming match. Crystal rolled over in bed and used her pillow to muffle the sound, which didn’t work.

She sighed as she picked up her phone.

hey! just woke up, i feel like i have the world’s worst hangover. anyway, do you wanna meet up in like an hour?

Gigi texted back quickly. Crystal was always impressed with the perfect grammar and capitalization Gigi used. Who had the time for that? Definitely not Crystal.

Yes, that’s the after-effect of having been fed on, unfortunately. I hope that it was worth it, though. I’ll see you in an hour.

Usually, Crystal was an extremely confident person. She had to be in order to move up at the museum as quickly as she did. But, while she was getting ready to meet with Gigi, she felt like crawling into a hole. Everything in her closet was suddenly ugly, and every way she did her makeup looked bad.

Eventually, Crystal gave up and wore minimal makeup and a flannel.

The park was walking distance from her apartment. Since it was September, the city was cooling down, not enough to be freezing, but enough to need a jacket. Crystal thanked herself for wearing a flannel.

Because she lived so close to the park, she got there before Gigi did. She almost sat on a bench directly in the sun to warm up, but then remembered Gigi saying that she didn’t like the sun, so she decided on a bench under a large tree.

Crystal checked her phone. It was noon. Where was Gigi?

Just as she started to feel discouraged, her phone vibrated.

Hello, sorry. My cat decided to vomit on my rug, so I had to take care of it. Be there soon.

Gigi made good, and showed up to the park ten minutes later. She found Crystal, and sat down on the bench next to her.

“Is your cat okay?” Crystal asked.

“Yes, she’s fine.”

“Good.”

There was an awkward pause.

Gigi began running her fingers up and down the necklace she was wearing. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

“I don’t really know where to start,” Crystal said.

“Nothing is off-limits, if it gets too bad I’ll just glamour you, and we can start over.” Gigi waved her hand in front of Crystal’s face.

Crystal didn’t say anything.

“I’m kidding.”

“Oh.” Crystal could appreciate a dry sense of humor, but damn. “Okay, first question. Do you do that with all the people you… eat?”

“Well, to start, I don’t eat people, I feed from them. Secondly, no. You’re the first.”

Crystal felt an odd sense of pride. “Really? Why?”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Gigi admitted. “I don’t know what came over me. Usually, I bring people back to the funeral home, feed off of them, kill them, and dispose of the evidence.”

Crystal was shocked by how freely she was talking about murder. “Oh! That’s another question. Why do you work at a funeral home? Like, why work at all? Don’t vampires just brood about their existence, or something?”

“It may not seem like it, but brooding for nearly a century gets old after a point. Back in the eighties, I decided I was too bored brooding, and a funeral home just seemed like a good fit. Having the blood from the bodies is a plus, too.”

“Wait. How old are you?” Crystal asked.

“I was born in 1905.”

Crystal was shocked. “I know I like older women, but goddamn.”

“Thanks,” Gigi said dryly. “If it makes a difference, I was twenty-two when I transformed.”

“Well if you look at it like that, I’m older than you. By four years. Random one, but can you read minds?”

“I can’t personally, but it’s possible, yes.”

“Wait, what?”

“Vampires can form a psychic bond between themselves and a human, but it’s not very common. I don’t personally know any vampires who have done it. We tend to not get that close to humans, myself included,” Gigi said looking away from Crystal.

“Next question. What was so different about me? Like, you say you don’t get close to humans, but here we are, in the middle of this park, talking about how you’re…” Crystal realized she raised her voice a little too loudly causing a woman who was walking her dog to look at them.

“A funeral director?” Gigi said, trying to recover. “I’ve tried racking my brain around everything that happened, and I have no idea why I took you back to my apartment, and I don’t know why I let everything else… unfold.”

“Oh,” Crystal said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Not that I regret it, not by any means.”

“You did say you lost control in the heat of the moment. Let’s just say that I’m so intoxicatingly attractive, you had no choice but to be engrossed by me.”

Gigi rolled her eyes. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“Can you turn into a bat?”

Gigi sighed and rested her head in her hands. There was something special about this girl.

One year later

Crystal rubbed her hands together as she blew in them in an attempt to create heat. It was late, past midnight, but it was she and Gigi’s favorite time to walk in the park. It was almost always empty, which they appreciated.

“It’s so cold,” Crystal complained. “You’re lucky you can’t get cold.”

Gigi rubbed her own hands together and rubbed Crystal’s upper arms.

“Stop! You aren’t helping. You’re always cold, and you’re making it worse.” Crystal led the two of them to a bench.

“This is the bench where I told you everything,” Gigi mused.

Crystal rested her head on her girlfriend and smiled. “I can’t believe it’s been a year.”

“Happy anniversary, darling,” Gigi said kissing Crystal’s forehead.

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

Since there wasn’t an official date that Gigi and Crystal started calling each other girlfriends, they decided to go with the date Crystal learned everything.

“You were just complaining about how cold I was, and now you’re pressed up against my body.”

Crystal held her hand up as she shut her eyes. “Shh, don’t ruin the moment, babe.”

Gigi rolled her eyes as she held Crystal’s hand. “I never in my undead life thought that I would be in love with a human.”

“Not trying to be gay, but I’m so proud of how far you’ve come this past year.”

“How so?”

“Well, the second time that we hung out you went on a tangent about how you hated basically ever human you’ve ever met but me. Oh, and in general, you’re just a lot nicer to humans that aren’t me. Like, remember that time we went to the mall and that lady cut you off and you looked like you were going to kill everyone in the mall? Like, fangs out and everything?”

Gigi rubbed the smooth pendant of her necklace. “I don’t recall what you’re talking about.”

“Liar. You’re playing with your necklace. I know you, baby.”

Pursing her lips, Gigi tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You do.”

“Crystal! Fuck! ” Gigi moaned as she reached climax, her hips rocking as she sat on her rightful throne, Crystal’s face. As Crystal skillfully flicked her tongue over Gigi’s clit, it took everything in her power to not crush her girlfriend’s face with her thighs.

Coming down from her climax, Gigi adjusted herself so that she was straddling Crystal.

“Do you want to go for round six?” Gigi’s tone was innocent, but her smile was sinful.

Crystal shook her head. “I want to be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Fair enough,” Gigi said as she laid her head on the pillow next to Crystal. “I love you, darling. Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” Crystal said tenderly kissing her girlfriend.

Gigi bit her finger and drew blood as she rubbed it over Crystal’s neck where she’d fed from which caused the puncture marks to disappear as if they’d never been there. “I know you like having the marks on your thighs.”

“They’re like souvenirs!” Crystal said happily tracing one of the marks on her left thigh.

“You are so strange.”

“You love me.”

“You’re right,” Gigi said, kissing her girlfriend.

Crystal yawned. “How much blood did you take tonight?”

Gigi looked away, licking her finger.

“Baby!” Crystal whined.

“You certainly weren’t complaining when my head was between your legs, darling. Especially during round three.”

Crystal yawned again, nestling into Gigi’s arms. “True. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Gigi usually only waited for Crystal to fall asleep before she went into the living room. But, Crystal looked so peaceful so she stayed a little longer, just taking in the sight of her beautiful love. Eventually, she carefully crept out of the bed and kissed Crystal’s forehead. Ensuring the blankets were on just as Crystal liked, Gigi quietly shut the door.

It’s not that Gigi particularly liked watching TV and movies as much as she did, but she had nothing better to pass the time. Scrolling through Netflix, she settled on The Haunting of Hill House.

Silently critiquing inconsistencies in the funeral home in the show, she heard Crystal open the bedroom door.

“Darling? Could you not sleep?”

Crystal didn’t reply, but instead ran into the bathroom and shut the door. Gigi heard Crystal turn the bathroom fan on. Try she may, Crystal couldn’t silence the sound of her vomiting from her girlfriend’s heightened hearing.

Gigi knocked on the bathroom door lightly. “Crystal?”

No response.

“Crystal, are you okay?”

Crystal only groaned in response.

“Can I come in?”

No response.

“I’m coming in.”

Gigi had seen a lot of things in her life that should have made her sad that didn’t. Seeing her love laying on the bathroom floor resting her head against the toilet seat was extremely upsetting. Crystal groaned again, which caused Gigi to kneel down by her.

Stroking Crystal’s hair, Gigi said, “What do you need me to do?”

Crystal groaned again before looking at Gigi. “Heidi was out sick with the flu the other day, and I’m just remembering now that we shared a sandwich.”

“Oh, darling, that’s probably why you’re so exhausted.”

“I’m sorry I blamed you,” Crystal mumbled.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Gigi effortlessly picked Crystal up and carried her to bed.

“My hero,” Crystal said, swooning dramatically.

“Do you need anything?”

“Water.”

Rarely did Gigi use her vampire speed. Most of the time, it wasn’t necessary, especially recently. But, this was necessary. She returned before Crystal could blink.

“That’s new,” Crystal said as she graciously took the glass.

“I don’t do that often. It’s not needed.”

“Getting your girlfriend water was a circumstance of needing to become The Flash?”

“Yes,” Gigi said as she got into bed with Crystal and covered them with the blankets.

Crystal sat the glass on the nightstand as she fell asleep in her girlfriend’s loving embrace.

It took Crystal barely ten minutes to fall back asleep. It was six in the morning, and Gigi knew she wasn’t going into work. She had a sick girlfriend to take care of.

Gigi scrolled through her contacts until she found Jackie’s number.

Jackie answered the phone instantly. “Gigi? Is everything okay? Do you need me to come in early?”

“Everything’s okay, no not unless you want to. But that’s not why I’m calling. I’m calling because I have a very sick girlfriend who I need to tend to. I’m not going to be coming in today. Do you think you can handle yourself?”

“As long as there’s no one that needs any reconstruction work.”

It was enduring to Gigi that Jackie referred to the bodies as people.

Gigi sighed. “Okay, if that happens, call me and I’ll come in.”

“Tell Crystal I say feel better soon!”

“Of course.”

Now that work was taken care of, Gigi had to go to the grocery store. Before she and Crystal started dating, Gigi hadn’t stepped foot in a grocery store in nearly a century. In the past year, she’d become well-versed on where everything was kept. After picking up all the ingredients she needed, she returned home, hoping she still knew how to be a good little housewife-to-be.

Before becoming a vampire, Gigi already had an incredible memory. Vampirism only heightened it, meaning Gigi could remember almost every recipe that her mother taught her how to make. Even though Crystal didn’t cook often, she still had a nice collection of pots and pans.

Gigi was so engrossed in cooking, she didn’t realize Crystal had migrated from the bed to the couch.

“Babe, what are you doing?” Crystal asked as she sat up on the couch.

“You need to eat.”

“It’s only eight, and the last thing I want to do is eat.”

“It’ll take some time for the soup to cook.”

Crystal raised an eyebrow. “Baby, I love you, but you haven’t cooked anything in like ninety years, and now you’re making me soup from scratch?”

Gigi sat on the arm of the couch as she stroked her girlfriend’s hair. “I think that you’re forgetting I was in training to be a housewife.”

“God, I can only imagine how adorable you must have looked in a poofy dress and apron,” Crystal said before she fell into a coughing fit, somehow still managing to laugh.

“You’ve called me many different names this past year, but I think ‘adorable’ is a first.”

“Honestly, I’d pay a lot of dollars to see what you looked like as a human.”

Suddenly, Gigi got an idea. “Hold that thought.”

Gigi went into the bedroom and laid on her stomach. Using her phone’s flashlight, she first saw her and Crystal’s box of sex toys, but deeper under the bed was a much smaller box. Stretching as far she could, Gigi reached the box.

Before leaving the bedroom, Gigi made sure to take one thing out of the box before returning to Crystal.

“You said you wanted to see what I looked like as a human?”

Crystal nodded. “I’d literally pay to see it.”

“Well, pay up, love.” Gigi handed Crystal three framed photos from when she was a human.

“How did you get these?”

“A few months after I was turned, I snuck into my parent’s home in the middle of the night.”

Crystal gasped and put her hand over her mouth. They were definitely her girlfriend. Her facial expression mirrored when she had to interact with humans she found annoying. Gigi’s eyes were what were the most unmistakable part of the photo. Even though they were in black and white, somehow Gigi’s eyes still had the sparkle that Crystal adored. Despite the photos being in black and white, it was still easy to see that Gigi was wearing light colors, something that didn’t normally happen.

The first photo was Gigi and a girl who looked just like her.

“Is that Nora?” Crystal asked. It had taken Gigi quite some time before she talked about her human life, but one night, Gigi and Crystal spent the entire night up until the early morning talking about her human life.

Gigi nodded.

“She’s beautiful.”

The next photo was a family photo. Crystal smiled as she saw that Gigi looked just like her mother. “You all look like each other.”

“That’s what everyone always told us.”

The final photo made Crystal gasp audibly. “Holy shit.”

Crystal wasn’t entirely sure if she was seeing what she thought she saw. The man in the photo with Gigi, who she presumed was her fiance, was a face she’d seen in her middle school history books.

“What?”

“You were engaged to James Rossini?” Crystal asked incredulously.

Gigi nodded.

“Did you know he was one of Chicago’s biggest mobsters back then?”

Gigi shook her head. “He and his father were always very secretive about what they did for a living. Nora ended up marrying his cousin. He mainly kept the books and didn’t kill anyone, which is why you’ve never heard of him.”

“God, I can just see you as a fancy schmancy mob wife, babe. In a huge mansion surrounded by nice things,” Crystal said.

“Well, now I buy myself nice things,” Gigi said looking around their apartment.

Crystal couldn’t stop staring at the photos. It was as though she saw a side of her girlfriend that she never thought she would ever get to see.

Crystal managed to doze off again, but was woken up by the sound of the oven timer. She peeked over the couch and saw Gigi was smiling at the photos before she got up to check on the soup boiling on the stove.

Every so often, there were moments where Crystal could see her girlfriend’s vulnerability. They were extremely rare, but when they happened, it was as though she was looking at a different person. Gigi’s coldness towards most people was an act that Crystal could see right through, even if Gigi wasn’t aware of it.

“Are you hungry, darling?”

“A little,” Crystal said sitting up on the couch.

Gigi brought over a bowl and the ginger ale that Crystal swore could cure cancer.

“I used to make this all the time when my family members were sick. I’m sure it’s not nearly as good as it was when I used to make it regularly.” Gigi took the seat on the couch next to Crystal.

Crystal blew on the soup on her spoon to cool it down. She was nervous, since she had absolutely no idea what to expect. Gigi watched in anticipation as Crystal had her first bite.

“Oh my God, babe, it’s so good.”

Gigi’s face lit up. “Really?”

Crystal nodded. After finishing the bowl and setting it on the questionably assembled coffee table, she kissed Gigi. “I’m glad you can’t get sick.”

“Me, too.”

“I love you, my good little trophy wife.”

Gigi rolled her eyes. “I am not.”

“Wife” was a word that Gigi never thought of when she looked at Crystal. Anytime it would come up on accident, the subject would be changed.

“You’re pretty good at taking care of the living, too,” Crystal mused. “Who would have thought?”

“Not me.”

In that moment, Gigi swore her life was perfect. If only it would last forever.

#rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd #gigi goode #jackie cox #crygi #lesbian au #vampire au #duality #metaluna #s12

15 notes · View notes

seagreen-meets-grey · 3 years

Text

When Lightning Strikes Ch. 12

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

_______________

“Okay girls, chop chop, the shower awaits! You were in good form today, let’s keep that up until tomorrow!”

Seven girls from ages eight to eleven rushed past her, giggling and jumping around each other after a successful training session. With a sigh, Astrid watched them disappear behind the door to the showers, glad that none of them slipped on the wet floor. The last thing she needed was half of her team losing their teeth or breaking their bones before the competition tomorrow.

She watched the water for a few minutes, small waves still rippling through the pool from the recent activity. As always, it was entrancing, hearing the soft gurgling call out to her, inviting her in for a swim. Briefly considering giving in, Astrid shook her head and walked towards the shower to check on the girls. She had to make sure they didn’t dawdle too long because their parents were picking them up soon. Besides, she had plans herself.

The big clock on the wall told her she still had time; if it weren’t for the children she had to urge to leave the warm shower and quit fooling around (like they always did, because even if they couldn’t swim in the water, they found other ways to play with it), she’d technically have time to swim a few laps on her own. All she had to do was lose the shorts, flip-flops and t-shirt she wore over her swimsuit, and dive in.

But she didn’t give herself the option, walking through the door to the showers instead. Excited squeals and giggles mixed with the sound of splashing water greeted her. And when she turned the corner, situating herself in the doorway with a stern face and her hands on her hips, she didn’t have to wait five seconds before the girls had spotted her and hurriedly went back to dumping shampoo on their hair.

“I want to see all of you dressed and ready by the hairdryers in ten minutes! If I catch one of you still in here by then, I’ll have all of you do twenty extra laps next week!”

Aware that she was one to follow through with her threats, the girls sped up their showering routines, their chatter dying down to the occasional urge for the particularly slow-paced teammate to hurry up.

Astrid left the showers for the changing rooms, swapping her clothes for her jeans and t-shirt. By the time she was tying her shoes, the last of the kids had entered the room and started to dress themselves.

“Don’t dawdle too long, you parents are waiting,” she reminded them when she left the room. A few years back, when she’d first started this job, she’d always stayed behind until the last of the kids were done. But she’d soon found that it was far more effective to get them to hurry if she already left the room, letting them know she was waiting for them.

And lo and behold, no more than five minutes later, all seven girls were fully dressed and fighting over the best hairdryers. The first parents were waiting behind the turnstiles, but Astrid took the time to huddle up her girls for a last team assembly.

“Remember, go to sleep early tonight, and don’t eat an entire chocolate cake before bed. Believe me, I’ve been there, you’ll just regret it in the morning.” That earned her a few giggles. “And don’t stress yourselves out too much, you got this! We trained hard and we’re in top form. And even if we don’t come first tomorrow, I know you’re going to do your best. Team Berk on three!” Seven hands joined her in the middle. “One, two, three, Team Berk!”

“Team Berk!” seven motivated kids repeated.

She high-fived every one of them before she let them go. Another glance at her watch informed her that she still had a few minutes, but when some of the parents engaged her in small talk and details about the next day, she started to feel impatient. Answering their questions as best (and fast) as she could, she waved goodbye to the lot and nearly sprinted over to her car.

Checking herself in the rear-view mirror and combing through her bangs with her fingers, she took a deep breath and started the engine. There was a forest waiting for her.

_______________

Every car that drove onto the parking lot turned out to be a disappointment. Even though they were probably good cars from good manufacturers (and some of them were, he could see that) and some looked really sleek, definitely better than his own heap of scrap metal – they all weren’t the car he was waiting for. Or rather waiting to see only, because he was actually waiting for the person who drove the car.

The people that emerged from the cars dug the hole of disappointment in his belly even deeper. He knew that those who hopped out wouldn’t be her, but actually seeing it smothered the small, excited flame inside him further. Because who knew, maybe she was getting a ride from someone, maybe she’d bought a new car in the last few days and didn’t mention it.

And maybe he shouldn’t work himself up over this so much. Because wasn’t he just waiting for a friend? Hadn’t he told his heart to shut up and lose the last dusty boxes of hope it was still storing in the back somewhere? He really needed to have a serious conversation with himself sometime soon.

For now, however, he could only focus on the street and the exit to the parking lot, the sound of tires on gravel slowly beginning to fuel his nervousness with every wrong car that showed up. He watched hikers, families, joggers, groups of teenagers, and dog walkers disappear between the trees. Knew that the crowd would disperse around the first picnic table at the big old oak tree. From there on, the pathways would lead in various directions deeper into the woods, forking off every now and then to meet again at a different point, direction signs and maps at every junction.

Two short honks made him wince and turn around, laying eyes on the small blue car maneuvering into a parking spot. Every disappointed drop of his stomach in the last twenty minutes was forgotten the moment the door opened and Astrid Hofferson stepped out, long hair shining in the sun like liquid gold, making his heart forget to beat for a long moment. Well, so much for getting over her.

“Hi!” she called over, shutting the door behind her and pressing a button on her key. Hiccup had to force himself to close his mouth and feebly wave back. Why did her legs have to look so long in her simple jeans? And what was it about her that exuded so much beautiful energy?

“Hey,” she said again when she reached him, putting her keys and phone in the little backpack she was carrying.

“Hey,” he managed to reply in a steady voice. Why was he doing this to himself? Why couldn’t he just stay away from her? Why did it have to be so hard?

“Let’s go?” she suggested when he just continued to stare at her, unable to formulate a coherent sentence. He still didn’t trust his brain to speak properly, so he just nodded and hummed in agreement. Only briefly did he consider turning on his heels and getting some distance, but she was already striding over to the first line of trees with purposeful steps. Like a loyal, devoted dog, he could do nothing but follow her.

The first few hundred yards on the wide main path, they walked in silence. Sometimes, their swinging hands would brush and every time he would recoil from the shock. For a split second, he could swear that her pinky curled around his. But when he glanced down, her fingers were tapping against her leg and he couldn’t tell if he’d imagined the contact. He decided it was smarter to stuff his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching for hers constantly.

“Where to now?” she asked once they reached the old oak. He hadn’t really thought about that beforehand; he usually just let his mind wander and his feet take him somewhere.

“Um… Let’s go right,” he said, pointing in the left direction. “Uh- That right.” He pointed the other way. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Astrid stifle a grin.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He could hear the amusement in her voice and he wanted to lie down and die. Then she lightly punched him in the arm and walked past him. His arm tingled like crazy and he didn’t want to die so much anymore.

Catching up to her, he mentally pulled up a map of the forest, loosely planning the route they could take. He wanted to steer away from the main paths a little, go where it was quiet and where there weren’t any babbling people and loud teenagers with their music and littering disturbing the scene. Besides, he kind of wanted to be alone with her, even if there was nothing he could do about it. He felt like he was trying to milk a bull.

“So–“

“What–“ she started at the same time. She swept her bangs out of her eyes and glanced at him, right when he glanced at her. They locked eyes for a few seconds, staring at each other with blank faces before they both burst out laughing. It successfully melted the awkward tension away.

“You go first,” she said.

“Wow, thanks, that- that’s so generous of you.”

“Okay, then I will–“

“Nope! You’ll get your turn. Be more patient, Astrid.” He jumped out of the way before she could sock him in the arm again. He probably should have seen it coming, though, that when he returned to her side, she used the opportunity to tackle him sideways. He staggered to the side with a surprised yelp.

“Oops! Was that too hard?” she asked with a falsely apologetic voice.

“I came here to have a good time,” Hiccup whined, rubbing his arm, “but I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.” The incredulous grin on her face was worth all the pain (that she inflicted on him herself, but never mind that detail).

“Is that all you have to say, you dork?”

“No, I actually just wanted to ask how your day was. Yesterday, I mean. And today, so far. You had swim training, right?”

“I did.” She smiled and he felt safe enough to walk right beside her again. “Yesterday was pretty average. Almost boring, if it hadn’t been for your constant spamming of nerdy fantasy book stuff.”

“Constant spamming of nerdy stuff? You specifically asked me to tell you more!”

She shrugged. “Still nerdy.”

“So you’re calling yourself a nerd.”

“If anything, I’m a nerd for hearing my friends talk about their nerdy interests.”

“Are you trying to tell me you were not at all interested in the magic system of the book I had to read for work and that you did not keep asking very specific questions with a vocabulary that not at all insinuated that you obsessed over fantasy world settings before? Besides, you’re the one who’s been forwarding me all kinds of dog videos all week.”

She grumbled something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “You’re the nerd, shut up.”

“What was that?”

“So I had swim training today.” As she continued to tell him about the competition the next day, he couldn’t stop grinning and had trouble taking his eyes off her. God, he loved her. And there really was no way out.

Their comfortable banter rolled back and forth between them as they hiked deeper into the woods, soon leaving the main paths behind.

“How do you know this place so well?” she asked when he led her through the underbrush onto a clearing that she would have never discovered by herself.

“My dad took me here a lot when I was a kid. And when I got older, I went by myself. You know, just walking for hours, thinking, winding down, and sometimes the inspiration just hits.”

He strolled over to a thick tree lying on the ground and sat down. For a minute, he closed his eyes and let the sun warm his face. When he looked again, Astrid sat next to him, studying his face. He tried not to blush. “What?”

“What did you do with your dad when you came here?”

“Fishing, at a small lake in that direction.” He pointed ahead. “Well, he wanted to go fishing. I was mostly busy searching for trolls.”

She chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“Yeah, I was that kind of kid.”

“I was the one wrestling all the boys on the playground to show them I was stronger.”

“Were you?”

“Of course! Anyone who tells you different is a liar. Especially Zack Bauman! He was only six years older, but definitely not stronger.”

“For the sake of my own health, I’ll choose to believe that.”

“Good.” She took off her backpack and pulled out a water bottle. “You’re smart.”

“I know.”

She drank from her water and frowned at him. “Didn’t you bring anything?”

“Why? It’s not like I’m going camping.”

“What if you get thirsty?”

He shrugged. “I’ll just drink from a stream.”

The pace at which her eyebrows rose was almost comical. “You know that’s not filtered, right? Dirt gets in there, rain polluted with fumes, it’s where fish die, and sometimes people pee in there!”

“So? Beauty of nature!”

With the way she continued to stare at him as if he was growing another head, it became harder and harder to keep up his poker face. Finally, he broke down, a grin breaking out over his face and his shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

“Just kidding, I have water in the car. Besides, the running water here is actually pretty good.”

She rolled her eyes and tried to hide her smile. “I’m still not fully believing you, though. Here.” She held out her bottle to him. “It’s medium sparkling.”

“Thanks.” He took the bottle and started drinking. Only when his lips touched the opening, his brain caught up in the most annoying of ways, almost prompting him to choke on the water. What it told him wasn’t, oh this water is refreshing or I was more thirsty than I thought or something else mundane like, the color of the label is white and green.

No, what his brain screamed at him was: HER LIPS TOUCHED THIS! Admittedly, the way this particular thought affected him was less mature than he’d like to claim. In a way, wasn’t he indirectly kissing her over some kind of detour? (Oh god, he was pathetic.)

He handed her the bottle back, refusing to meet her eyes, willing the blush away that had crept onto his face and only felt impossibly warmer when she took another sip herself before she put the bottle away.

“Alright, let’s get going!” She jumped up from the trunk and planted herself in front of him. “Where to next?”

“Don’t you just want to sit and enjoy the moment for a few more minutes?”

“If I’d wanted to chill under trees, I’d have gone for my hammock. Come on!” She pulled him up by his arms and when he stood, he was suddenly so close to her, he could count the tiny freckles on her nose. But he didn’t get the chance to because she was already walking purposefully ahead again.

“Wrong direction.”

In one graceful move, she spun around and walked the other way.

“Just kidding, that was the right direction- Ow! No violence in these woods!” Rubbing his arm, he caught up to her.

“You brought this on yourself, pal. Now show me the way!”

For a while, they walked the beaten paths, evading stinging nettles and other overgrowing weeds. The air was warm and humid, the sun was trying to burn through the leaves and Hiccup was gladder than ever that he’d decided to wear short sleeves today (ignoring the nettles that were on a personal mission to cuddle him).

“Man, I can’t believe it’s only May, this feels like mid-July!”

Astrid snorted. “Are we back to awkward weather talks?”

“It’s not awkward if I’m complaining. Which I am.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Berk used to be so cold when we were kids. Fricking climate change.”

“Nope, nuh-uh, we’re not having the climate change talk right now. If you want to ban weather talk, I’m banning climate change talk.”

“But I have opinions!”

“Big news, Astrid, we all do. We can talk about it another time.”

“Fine,” she grumbled and kicked at a pebble. “Then I’m not going to tell you about my cousin’s treehouse.”

“Okay, and I’m not gonna tell you how Snotlout and I became friends.”

“Who?”

He scratched his neck. “That guy that hit on you. At the park. Last Saturday.”

She chuckled. “Oh, right. I completely forgot about him. But yeah, what’s up with that?! I mean, I only spent, like, a minute with that guy and I wasn’t even paying attention to him, but I did hear how he tried to flirt with me.”

“That’s Snotlout for you. But first, I wanna hear about that treehouse.”

She hopped onto an oak log lying next to the path and balanced down its length, occasionally holding onto Hiccup’s shoulder to steady herself. “Well, when we were kids, my cousin had this treehouse he built with his dad. It had three stories, a ladder, walls with windows, a roof, even a fence. We played so many games of pretend up there and climbed through the trees.” She jumped from the end of the log, wiping a few strands of hair from her face that had escaped the braid falling down her back.

“Sounds fun.”

“It was. But then we got older and he wanted to play Fifa more than climb trees. I miss that sometimes,” she shrugged, glancing at him from the side, “pretending that the invisible enemy you’re hiding in a treehouse from is the most important thing in the world right now.”

With a loud smack, Hiccup hit the mosquito on his arm and successfully squashed it. “Gotcha!” He met Astrid’s bewildered expression. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt you. These damn fuckers are early this year. And for some reason, they love me.”

“Oh, I’m sure they don’t love you,” she said with a wave of her hand. “They’re only using you to get to your blood.”

“Harsh.”

“Look, if they can suck it up, you can too. I need to know the Snotlout story.”

In that moment, Hiccup spotted something up ahead and a smirk spread on his face. “First of all, nice wordplay. And second – too bad that, once you get older, you can’t climb trees anymore.” And before she could answer, he sprinted off towards a large old oak stretching its limbs over the path in front of them.

He put his foot into a split in the trunk, held onto a branch and hauled himself upwards. He didn’t get far, though, before Astrid practically climbed over him, fast and agile and with a competitive determination.

“Hey, slowpoke!” she called down from a branch fork further up the tree.

“That’s a Pokémon,” he huffed while pulling himself higher up. Winded and with new scratches on the side of his arm, he finally made it next to the branch she was sitting on. He stayed in a slightly uncomfortable spot where part of the trunk split in two more parts, leaned against the bigger half and caught his breath. “How- how are you… so good at… at this? Phew! Wait, that… That was a stupid question.”

“It’s because I’m the best. But you’re not so bad yourself, look, we’re at least ten feet up! Probably even higher.”

“Yeah, that’s- Oh, that’s high up.” He looked down at the ground, glad he had enough tree to hold onto.

“Don’t fall.”

He shot her an unimpressed look. “Ha ha ha. Funny.”

“Or at least don’t until I heard the Snotlout-Hiccup origin story.”

Securing his footing, he made himself as comfortable as possible. He was high up in a tree with Astrid Hofferson in the middle of the woods. Just a normal Saturday.

“Fine, fine. Buckle up, it’s gonna be a ride. I was only a wee lad when–“

“Hiccup,” she interrupted, “you’re not Scottish.”

“Technically, I am. Partially. Half Berkian, one quarter Icelandic, the other Scottish. And if I believe my grandpa’s stories, both my dad’s and mom’s families are Viking descendants.”

“Hey, me too! Both my great-grandmas were from Sweden, and they definitely descended from Vikings. We still have my great-grandfather’s ancestry research collection in the attic somewhere.”

“Wow. No wonder you didn’t change your name when you got married. Keeping the Hofferson name, the legacy, and all that- that jazz.”

She averted her face. “Yeah. That’s the reason. Part of it, anyway.”

He got the clue that she didn’t want to talk about it further, so he changed the topic. “So, Snotlout and I were neighbors growing up.”

Her smile returned and she looked at him expectantly, like a kid waiting for its campfire story. It was adorable. He wanted to lean in and cherish that smile up close until he kissed it off her face…

“And that’s it?” her voice brough him back to reality. “You were neighbors? That’s the whole story?”

“Sorry, I kinda spaced out there. In the memories,” he quickly added. “Like I said, we were neighbors as kids and became friends along the way.” His cheeks were still burning. “Actually, Snotlout used to make fun of me a lot back then – okay, not much has changed, if I think about it… But I’d call it lovingly teasing instead of bullying now.”

She chuckled. “Lovingly teasing?”

“Or maybe respectful bullying that’s not meant to actually hurt and that I can shrug off as Snotlout being Snotlout?” He shrugged. “Call it whatever you like.”

“Respectful bullying,” she repeated and pushed a leaf out of her face. She had to stick the twig behind a branch so it didn’t swing back in her face. He could relate. He’d been there too many a time. “How’d he go from bullying to respectful bullying, then?”

“When we were eight, I built a trap that knocked out two of his teeth. Gained his respect for life. Or maybe he’s just scared of me.”

She laughed, and it was music to his ears. “Yes, you’re very scary. All of… this is making me cower and shiver in fear.”

“Did you just gesture to all of me?”

“Well, all of you is very scary.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” He leaned his face against the forked off part of the trunk and she adapted her position right after. Her gorgeous eyes were so much bigger in this light. It was like looking into the summer sky. She licked her lips. He gulped hard, yearning to close the gap and melt into her, hallowing this tree forever.

She blinked a couple times and shook her head, breaking him out of his trance as well. How many times had she sucked him in already, lifting him from the ground, into a dreamlike state, like some kind of mind-bending drug? He needed to get a grip on himself and stop drifting off every time she so much as looked at him.

“Uhh… Where was I?” he asked and cleared his throat when his voice came out too raspy. For his own safety, he leaned back against the thick trunk. Just in case.

“Teeth and respect.”

“Right.” He rubbed his neck. “Yeah. So. We, uh, we kind of hung out together after a while, but, like, separately?” His hands started gesticulating on their own and without the additional support, his balance began to shift dangerously to the side so he held onto the next best branch again. As soon as his hands were out of the conversation, his shoulders took over and he felt the soft vibrations in the tree. “What I mean is, we would both be at the playground, but we didn’t interact much, until one of us had an idea to share or needed help with something. Over time, we grew closer, and then suddenly, we realized we were friends. We would never say it, but we both knew.”

“Aw, that’s cute.”

He snorted. “Don’t tell him that, he’ll deny everything.”

“Oh, in that case, I will definitely tell him that the next time I see him.”

Hiccup’s heart leaped at the idea of her spending time with his friends. It meant she would continue to be in his life. “When you do, please make sure I’m there to witness.”

“That’s a given.” She grinned and he had to force himself to believe that, in that moment, the sun only coincidentally lit up her eyes even brighter.

“Good.” He grinned back. “Anyway, I think I already told you this, but I had social phobia as a teen, low self-esteem and – yeah. It was hard to maintain friendships, but Snot was kind of a constant in my life. Someone who stuck with me, despite constantly complaining about my general loserness in public. Sometimes, late at night, when I’d climbed the roof of our house again because I was in one of my down phases and wanted to be left alone, he could see that from his bedroom window.”

While he talked, she pulled out a granola bar from her backpack. She broke it in two and handed him one half, munching on the other. Their fingers brushed. He was enjoying every little moment of this day, no matter how much he would suffer from it in the long run.

“Thanks... So he snuck over and kept me company, even though I didn’t wanna talk or see anyone. He would just sit there with me, keeping his distance, and tell me how he thought I actually didn’t suck and that other people sucked who didn’t see that. Coming from that guy, that’s the highest form of compliment you can think of. Because it was one hundred percent earnest.”

He bit off a piece of his granola snack, humming when the taste of raspberry and nuts exploded in his mouth. “We also both had problems with our dads,” he continued before swallowing the food, “so we bonded over that, too. And then I went to therapy and my dad made an effort to help and things got way better between me and him. Snot’s dad, though… He’s still an ass.”

While the last of the granola bar disappeared between his teeth, she regarded him thoughtfully. Eventually, she said, “I knew it was worth it asking for this story.”

“Oh? How so?”

She shrugged. “Because I figured there was no way you’d be friends with a guy like Snotlout if there wasn’t more to it, or to him. Because there’s more to you.”

“Oh. Uh…” he ran a hand through his hair, combing out a small bug in the process. “I guess…” His fingers tingled with the urge to reach for her hand so badly. He clapped his hands together in order to ignore the sensation. “So! What now?” he asked, maybe a little too loudly.

“I don’t know, you’re the one with the plan.”

“Right…” He pulled up his mental map. “How about we keep walking? There’s a stream not far ahead.”

“Sounds good to me.”

He nodded a few times before glancing past his feet. “…So how do I get back down?”

#httyd #hiccstrid #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #when lightning strikes #modern au #a bit of angst with a dash of drama #or the other way around #maja writes #ff #fanfic #how to train your dragon

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basicallywhiterice · 5 years

Text

Eight words: Han Jisung

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Genre: Enemies to lovers, lowkey friends to lovers lmao, smidge of angst, fluff

Warnings: Cursing

Word count: 8.5 k

Summary: Sure, one could tell someone they loved them with eight letters. But eight words convey deeper, more complex meanings.

a/n: Happy birthday, Han aka J. One aka Jisung! I wish you a smooth, unhurried transition into adulthood, as do all Stays. And dear reader, I present to you this fic about my bias… enjoy!

•••

One word.

Three words and eight letters can sum up my feelings towards Han Jisung, although they’re much more intense than what eight letters can contain.

“I hate you.”

Case in point: After a long day of lectures and labs, I’m ready to throttle him.

“Jisung.”

“Y/n,” he mocks, making his voice higher to imitate mine.

No, he’s not my friend. Of course not. I wouldn’t tell a friend: “I’ve been looking for you. Thanks for responding to my text messages asking where you were. I really appreciate it.” No, Jisung’s really more like a stuck up, annoying dumbass who happens to do well on every test he takes.

“Oh, I had my phone turned off. But you missed me that much?”

I puff my cheeks up and sigh. “You wish. Do you wanna review for the Bio exam together?”

“Biology?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“The one I’m really good at?”

“Debatable, but whatever floats your boat.”

“And let me get this straight,” he says, trying—and failing—to suppress a smile. “You need my help to study for it? My help? The help of me, Han Jisung? J. One? The one for you?”

“I don’t need your fucking help-” I bite back a few colorful words when I see his barely-hidden smile expand into a smirk and he shakes his head, almost disapprovingly. “Sort of, yes.” I muster the fakest smile I can display without cringing, tilting my head for added sarcasm.

“No.”

“Why not?” I sigh, having expected this to happen.

“What’s the fun in that, darling?”

Heat creeps into my cheeks as I fume over his disgusting pet name. “Han Jisung, I’m gonna strangle you in your sleep-”

“While that sounds tempting, and I had no idea you were into that, you’re not giving me any other reasons to help you, darling.” He leans back, resting his head against his pretty soft interlaced fingers, fixing me with The Look™ that lets me know he’s messing with me and thoroughly enjoying every second of it.

“We’ve studied for every test together and I’m sick of asking if you want to study every single time? Is that a good enough fucking reason for you?”

He drops one of his hands down and rests his index finger on his chin. “That’s valid…” he exhales, after a long, drawn out pause.

I nearly deck him in the face. I roll my eyes instead. “You know what, I’m leaving. Tell me your answer tomorrow if you need that long to think.” I shove my binders and textbooks into my backpack, swing it up on my shoulders, and make a beeline for the door. It’s not fair to snap at him so unexpectedly like this, but with the first semester at college rushing to a close, I don’t have enough time to play these petty games.

“Hey, hey, hey, wait up. What’s wrong?” he runs after me and pulls me back by my elbow with his right hand.

I take a deep breath, trying to rationalize my anger that’s not because of him but directed at him (at least, not today). “Nothing, I’m just really not in the mood for this kind of exchange for another twenty minutes. I have to study for more than just the science exam. I’d like it if we could just skip this elaborate negotiating for just one day.”

“Oh.” He lets go of my arm. “Yeah. Sure. Studying for exams together. Same studying schedule, texting if we change any days?” When I nod in affirmation, he sticks his hands into his jacket pockets. “Sorry for stressing you out more. You can tell me when you’re having a bad day, you know.”

Oh. “I know. Sorry for snapping at you. I didn’t mean it.” He starts to say something, but I hold up a hand. “It’s somewhat tolerable to have someone to banter with every day.” I blurt out.

Jisung glances down, then raises his gaze to meet mine. His eyes squeeze into crescents. His plump lips (ew) stretch outwards to reveal his pearly whites. I’m sure that my expression mirrors his.

“Good to know my efforts are appreciated.”

“Don’t get a big head. Well, don’t get an even bigger one.”

“You mean a big brain.”

“No, you don’t have a brain.”

He feigns a hurt expression. “Wow, princess. I thought I was tolerable.”

“You ruined the mood!” I shake my head, laughing. “You’re only somewhat tolerable. Definitely not when you call me pet names.”

“Sugar, you wound me.”

“Han Jisung!” I smack his arm half-heartedly.

“You love it though, honey.” He rests his hand on the top of my backpack, gently guiding me out the library doors and towards the parking lot.

Hm.

(Yes.)

•••

Two words.

This was supposed to be a peaceful weekend hangout.

“Felix, put that knife down! Right now! Or no Fortnite for a week!”

Somehow, all our weekend hangouts end up with Chan and Woojin babysitting. That is, until they act like kids themselves.

“Don’t challenge him to a knife fight, Chan! This isn’t Australia, where you have to fend for yourself in the desert—Kim Woojin if you join them I’ll let Minho cook dinner for a week.”

Then the rest of us babysit them until we figure out a better alternative to plastic-knife fencing (Changbin and Chan end up winning after they team up). After finally agreeing on going to the park (like in the Boxer video you know), the boys take over the swings and unintentionally terrorize children (while complaining about freezing to death) while Ryujin and I rethink our life choices and miss Tzuyu, who’s in Taiwan visiting her family.

“Why are we friends with them, again?” she asks, picking at her nails and pretending not to laugh when Seungmin throws wood chips in Hyunjin’s face.

“Yeah, y/n, why are you friends with us?” Jisung butts in after Jeongin refuses all of his hugs. I shoot him a thumbs up, and he grins behind Jisung’s back.

“I’m not friends with you. I’m friends with everyone else here because they’re cool, unlike you, stupid.”

“Ah, you were never a good liar, sweetie.”

Ryujin stifles a laugh, and I shoot her a half-hearted glare. “Not right now, Jisung. I’m still stressing over exam grades.”

“All the teachers entered them this morning, you know.” Surprisingly, there were no pet names present in that sentence. Hallelujah.

“They did?” I check my phone, and sure enough, all the exam grades are there. “What! I was reloading this page all morning! What’d you get in Bio?”

“An A. You?”

“As expected. Same.”

“As expected,” he mimics.

“Is that why you didn’t drag me on the slides?” Ryujin asks. “Because you were worried about your grades, that always end up being an A?”

“No comment.”

“You should go and have fun now that you know your GPA is safe,” she suggests. “No point in coming here if you’re just going to sit here.”

“You were the one who refused to associate with these,” I jab a thumb at the boys, “losers.”

“Oops.”

“You guys should play tag with us or something,” Jisung offers. “See who’s a loser then.”

“Challenge accepted. I’ll go round up the others,” Ryujin agrees, pushing herself off the metal bench and jogging over to the swings.

“What about you, y/n?” asks Jisung.

“Hm. Maybe.” I pretend to think, already knowing my answer is going to be yes.

“Come on! Join us?”

“How could I say no? I can’t just sit back and watch you lose without joining and winning against you.”

“... I’m going to pretend the reason is because you’re such a great friend to us.”

“Only the rest of them. Not you.” I correct him.

“Thank you. ‘preciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

•••

Three words.

The ice on the streets is frozen and so am I.

I had ducked into the quaint little cafe on campus to grab a hot drink and to regain feeling in my feet when I saw what’s causing me to stand here—frozen, like a statue.

I saw Jisung. In our cafe. The one I frequent at least twice a week with him (not voluntarily, of course. He follows me here, probably to annoy me more, and I let him so I can annoy him more.)

Under normal circumstances, I’d be disgusted, not paralyzed. But today is different.

He sits at a two-person table. Next to him, a girl leans over his shoulder, wearing the headphones connected to his computer, occasionally commenting on parts of what I assume is his latest song. Her backpack rests on one of her shoulders. When she turns her head, I can see her face clearly.

He’s with Tzuyu, one of the youngest rising stars in the arts at our university, a hardworking student, an all-around sweet person, and a good friend of ours.

Why, one might ask, did I freeze in place? Simple: I’m sick of Jisung trying to woo girls with the songs he composes.

Once I regain my senses, shuffle forward in line, and place my order, I glance over at their table again. Tzuyu takes off the headphones and starts talking while pointing to different places on his laptop. Jisung smiles sheepishly at the last thing she says. The little prick. It must be an act–after all, if he’s flirted with so many girls through his music, he should be used to the compliments.

Tzuyu walks away from him after glancing at her watch and waving goodbye. She notices me when she’s halfway to the cafe door and grins, waving at me before she shoots Jisung one last smile and leaves. I wave back.

Of course, this exchange means that Jisung notices me. He motions for me to wait, holding up one finger. He clicks around on his laptop, closes it, and slides it into his backpack, along with his headphones. He stands up right as my drink is finished and my name is called. I snag the drink and try to rush to the door as discreetly as possible. Unfortunately, I’m very conspicuous, and Jisung follows me, calling my name.

I’m outside when he catches up with me, frozen in place once again as I internally debate if I should stay and talk to him or leave him. He makes the decision for me when he steps beside me, tugging my elbow in the direction I’m facing to get me to walk so I don’t hold up foot traffic.

“I told you to wait for me in there, y/n. You usually do it, why’d you ignore me today?”

Play dumb, y/n. “Who’s y/n?” Not that dumb!

I clear my throat and try again. “You were in there?”

He raises his eyebrows. “I know you saw me.” When I don’t reply, he sighs. “Walk with me? It’s the last week before break and I won’t have the pleasure of personally annoying you every day.”

I tilt my head forward to tell him to start walking. I can only think of a (half-hearted) protest once we’ve walked a full block. “It’s going to snow soon.”

“You love the snow.”

I exhale through my mouth, forming a cloud of condensation with my breath in the crisp, chilly air. “Yeah, I do.”

A beat passes. Quietly, Jisung asks, “Are you mad?” Another beat. “At me?”

I think back to Tzuyu getting the opportunity to hear an unreleased track. “No, I’m not.” My heart pangs when I picture them leaning in so close together, even though my rational self tells me I shouldn’t be mad over something that small, especially if it concerns such a close friend and such a stupid asshole.

“I think you’re mad. You’re talking a lot less than normal.”

“Congratulations. You must think you’re so smart.”

“Thanks for finally noticing.”

“Look, what do you want?”

“I want to know why you’re mad.”

“Who said I was mad?”

He snorts in disbelief. “You literally just admitted to it.”

“When did I say that?” I stop walking.

He laughs, a dry, airy chuckle that morphs into a sigh. “I just want to know why you’re mad, and if I can help.”

I scoff. “Thanks for your concern, but I think I’ll be alright. Is there anything else-”

“No, you don’t seem like you’ll be fine! You almost never get angry!”

“Why are you so angry about me being angry? Not everything’s about you.”

I suppose it would be a great testament to anyone else’s character if they realized my insults were just my anger speaking and refused to insult me back. However, this is Jisung we’re talking about. He’s more likely to stop talking because he can’t think of a retort, not because he’s conscientious.

Sigh. Maybe he’s not that bad after all.

Just when I acknowledge the slim possibility that Jisung might not be a jerk all of the time, he reaches out and steals my phone.

“What-”

“I’m not giving this back until you tell me why.” He taps away at the lock screen, and unlocks it.

My lips part slightly and my eyebrows crease together. I’m in shock. “How-”

“I’ve seen you enter your password a lot, I just never thought about using it until today. Let’s see… should I read over the English story you refuse to send me because it’s not done yet?”

I break out of my stupor. “Stop it! There’s a reason I haven’t sent it yet. It’s horrible!” I reach out, left arm flailing uselessly, hand smacking his shoulder. He just steps back and turns away from me.

“Oops, too late.” Over his shoulder, I can see him click on the Google Docs app and open the most recently edited document. He scrolls the page down, reading as he goes, but he’s moving around so much that I can’t read the words on the screen at first. My heart nearly stops when I recognize the format of my poetry doc, a place where I word vomit all my artistic and lyrical poetry ideas.

“Jisung, stop! Right now!” I wonder how desperate I sound right now, although I try not to show it.

That’s my poetry. It’s raw, unfinished, and, quite frankly, really cringy. I’ve only trusted Ryujin, Tzuyu, and Hyunjin enough to read one poem, let alone all of them. And now Jisung is scrolling through the entire document.

My blood boils over, simultaneously turning to ice. I chuck my cup of hot chocolate into the trash can. My appetite’s been ruined. I wrestle my phone out of his grip using two hands, palms and fingers crashing against the screen, frantically checking to see if I accidentally modified my poems with my clumsy tapping. I silently sigh in relief when I’m certain nothing was edited. Then, I fix Jisung with a cold, blank stare.

“Those poems were good…” he trails off when I take a step towards him. “No, really.”

“Those were personal poems that I don’t want people to read unless I decide to share them when they’re finished. I don’t want someone who’s going to make fun of me to read it! Don’t you understand the concept of privacy?” I spit out through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry. That… kind of reminds me of my songs and how I only share them with people I trust a lot when they’re unfinished. I shouldn’t have gone through all of that.”

“It reminds you of your songs? Well, unlike you, I don’t use my creative work to flirt with others.”

He flinches, eyes wide and panicked. “How did you know about that?”

“About you flirting through songs? It’s obvious: you let them listen to your unfinished work, and then they compliment you and you pretend to be all humble and everything and-” I groan and run a hand through my hair. Be a nice person. Don’t insult him. Be a nice person. Don’t insult him. Be a nice-

“Are you mad that Tzuyu was helping me with a song earlier in the cafe? Is that why you’re mad?”

I gape at him. “The world doesn’t revolve around you and your enormous ego! Plus, don’t you remember what happened the last time you stole my phone?”

Jisung wasn’t always this annoying. When I first met him, I even thought he was cute. (I still do, but I always deny it, and any non-platonic feelings, if anyone accuses me of thinking that way.) But a few weeks after I met him, when we had become friends, he stole my phone and accidentally deleted a notes page where I kept several passwords (that I was too lazy to remember). He apologized, but the damage had already been done.

“I’ve never used my music to flirt with anyone. And for your information, I ran into Tzuyu. I didn’t invite her to flirt with her.”

Oh. “Ok, and?”

He drags a hand over his face. “Why were you mad at me when we left the cafe?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m ready to storm off and leave, but I realize that Jisung did have a point. Today is the last day before break, and even if he’s a conceited jerk, I don’t want to end things on a bad note until we see each other again.

I take a deep breath. “Let’s sit down and talk through this like civilized people. Is that ok?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do this entire time!”

I drag him over to a bench and plop down, leaving a respectable amount of distance between us. “You want to know why I’m mad? I’ve been asking to hear your unreleased tracks for who knows how long, and you won’t even let me read the lyrics. I have to wait until you and the rest of 3racha drop an album. And I understand that! You're allowed to not share your work! But you also let a ton of people listen to your songs and they just end up complimenting your talent, whereas I’ve offered to help you refine your songs. To me, that seems shallow, especially since most people you show them to are girls. And then you go through my poems without my permission. To be fair, I might be overreacting.”

“No, you’re not. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

I smile tiredly. “Sure, I’ll probably share them someday, but I need a heads up. I thought you would’ve understood how much they mean to me since you’re protective of your songs.” I drag a hand over my face. “Ok, rant’s over.”

And so I spend the next half an hour understanding Jisung’s point of view. I end up accepting his apology. As we part ways, he pulls me into a hug. I don’t resist, and bury my face into his shoulder. When we pull apart, he waves before walking away. I can’t help the goofy smile that spreads onto my face once his back is turned. Suddenly, a thought washes over me.

Idiot. I’ll miss you.

•••

Four words.

Winter break is refreshing.

That is, until I realize how unproductive I’m being. Then I panic, becoming both unproductive and unhappy.

It’s almost a relief when I get back to school, until I realize how much work I’m drowning in. Then I wish I was on break again.

Sigh. The paradoxes of life.

On the bright side, at least I get to see my squad again. (And (see) roast Jisung.)

On the third week back from school, Hyunjin drags Ryujin and me to one of 3racha’s monthly shows (they have quite the fanbase on campus.) We would’ve gone anyways, but Hyunjin is a nice addition.

The first thing he says when we arrive at the venue is, “Aren’t you so excited about seeing Jisung perform? Hmm?” while wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah, y/n, aren’t you going to gush about how cute he looks while performing?” Ryujin adds.

“No. And that was one time. Once.”

“No, it’s every time. You always talk about him.” Hyunjin may have a point.

“Is there something that we should know?” Ryujin asks slyly. “I am your roommate, so if you’re going to talk about him 24/7, you might as well just tell us you like him instead of being in denial.”

“No. I don’t like him. I never talk about him.” My words sound weak even to me. “Remember? He’s like my mortal enemy.”

Pause. The two of them stare at me skeptically, waiting for me to stop denying everything.

“Ok, fine. He looks so fricking attractive when he’s performing, and his eyes transform completely and it’s like looking at a sharper version of him, and he still manages to be absolutely adorable when he smiles and his nose and eyes scrunch up, and-” I envelope Ryujin in a hug, cringing in embarrassment. She tries not to laugh, but I can feel her shoulders shaking. Hyunjin fails to contain his amusement, laughing so loudly that 3racha, preparing backstage, can probably hear him.

“Not a single word to anyone,” I make them promise.

“I’m totally convinced that you don’t have a crush on him,” Hyunjin says once he’s stopped laughing (two minutes later.)

“You’re the one who’s all buddy-buddy with him when you tried to beat him up that one time in high school.”

“People change,” he shrugs. “But you’ve always seemed like you had a soft spot for him.”

“No, you’re wrong. He’s my sworn enemy. He deleted my passwords that one time and read my poems and that makes him my arch-nemesis.” I sigh. “Oh, who am I kidding?”

Luckily (or not), Jisung chooses this moment to saunter over, sparing me from all their teasing. “What’s up, my dudes? Are you ready to get wowed by us?”

“Wow is your best song yet. You’re performing that tonight, right?” I confirm.

“Yup. I’m sure you guys can get some meme-worthy material out of Changbin’s reactions.”

“Jisung, have I ever told you how attractive you look when you perform?” snickers Hyunjin, excessively batting his eyelashes and latching onto Jisung. I shoot him daggers with my eyes while trying to look not-exactly-murderous to Jisung. Ryujin stifles a laugh at my expense for the second time tonight.

“Thanks, buddy. I’m aware, but it’s nice to know that someone appreciates my hotness every once in a while.”

“Why are we here again?” I wonder out loud, giggling at the overly dramatic look of betrayal that Jisung puts on.

“My dear, it’s obviously for me! How could you forget?”

“Oh right, it was for my favorite 3racha member, Changbin!”

Jisung shrugs Hyunjin off, coming over and embracing me playfully. “No, not allowed.”

“C’mon, let’s go say hi to my man, Changbin!” I tell the ‘jins, tilting my head towards the stage.

“Noooo. Darling, that’s so mean.”

I give up on pushing Jisung off once it’s clear that he stubbornly refuses to leave. I ruffle his hair instead as “revenge.” (“Hey! That took me a solid five seconds to style! You’re fixing that.” “Yeah, yeah, whatever floats your boat.”) Ryujin, Hyunjin, and I agree that we should go greet Chan and Changbin. As we head backstage to say hi to 2racha, Jisung reluctantly stops hugging me when it gets too difficult to walk. He still keeps a hand loosely anchored on my right shoulder. I don’t complain, nor do I shrug him off. I guess it feels nice ok when he’s a normal, chill, person.

Ok, that was an under-exaggeration. I feel like I’m on cloud nine.

Maybe Ryujin is secretly a mind reader, or maybe I’m just really transparent, because she pokes my arm, not saying anything when I ask her “what,” while trying to hide the furious blush I know is present on my face. She just raises her eyebrows and grins. I widen my eyes back.

“So, uh y/n.” starts Jisung, breaking me out of my semi-staring contest with Ryujin. “There’s an open mic at our cafe next week—you know, the one we go to at least twice a week? Anyways, there’s an open mic next Friday and I was planning on going to either test out a new song I produced or a couple of poems I wrote and would you—I was wondering if you wanted to go too? I know you’re a little hesitant about sharing your poems, but from what I saw, you had some really good works and I’m sure other people would enjoy your poetry too. And of course you don’t have to go, I just thought it would be a fun experience if you were down.”

I’m floored. Han Jisung being genuinely nice and considerate? Unheard of. But when I start thinking about all my previous encounters with him, I realize that this is not the exception—it’s the rule.

Maybe I was so intent on labeling him as a rival that I’ve been halfheartedly denying the existence of his good traits.

“Thank you for appreciating my poems. That… honestly, that means so much to me. I’d love to go and perform. As long as I have time to prepare and I get to choose what to present… it’ll be new, but doable.” I wrap both arms around his waist and squish the left side of my face against his right shoulder. “I’m excited for Friday.”

“I’m glad you’re excited.”

“I’m glad you’re glad.”

Wait. What am I doing lowkey cuddling him in public? Oh well. I don’t hate it. In fact, I might go as far as to say… I really like it.

(When we get backstage, I fist-bump Changbin and do a weird quasi-dance off with Chan before hugging them both and wishing them good luck before promising to record the entirety of Wow. Jisung pouts and pouts and pouts some more until I fix his hair, then takes my hands and pulls me around in circles like the man-child he is.

Ryujin promises to tell their embarrassing stories to all their fans after she greets 2racha.

Hyunjin forgoes any formalities and starts complaining about Seungmin.

“Chan, control your child! He’s becoming more and more savage. The world can’t contain his saltiness.”

“Maybe that’s his way of showing love.”

His face goes :o. “RYUJIN, YOU’RE A GENIUS!”)

•••

Five words.

It’s Wednesday and I am: straight-up not having a good time (bro).

After a long day filled with tests and being even more sleep-deprived than usual due to said tests, I really just want to curl up into a ball and do absolutely nothing.

Unfortunately, I need to stay awake in order to finish a creative writing story (yes, another one.) Then, I need to study for two more tests for tomorrow and do a shit ton of homework. On top of that, with the open mic two days away, I’m furiously revising and editing what I’m presenting.

To be completely honest, I’ve been playing with ways to reference Jisung in my poems. I know: crazy, right? Stupid Jisung and his stupid mole on his left cheek on his stupid face that my gaze always drifts back to. Stupid Jisung and his genuinely expressive personality. Stupid Jisung and his amazingly accurate intuition and knowledge and pair of eyes that allow him to say things like:

“You’re staring at me quite a bit, sugar.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m just thinking of all the ways I… could get you to shut up.” I finish lamely.

“Really, now.” He leans towards me in his stupid library chair. “Do any of them involve making out in the library?”

Gahhhh. “Not funny didn’t laugh.” I go back to trying to be productive, but it’s hard when my brain is spewing out thoughts faster than (Jisung) Changbin and Chan can rap.

It sucks sometimes when Jisung makes all these suggestive jokes because he’ll never see me in a romantic light. I think that might be part of the reason why I try (and routinely fail) to act so cold to him: I was aware of all the emotions beneath the way I wanted to view and portray him. (My brain: No, this is not a crush. Crushes are shallow and go away after a week. These feelings aren’t going anywhere.)

I get through editing one paragraph of my story before Jisung speaks again. “Are you considering the offer?”

“No.” Maybe. Yes. “Don’t you have a lab report to write?”

“I’d gladly give up on that for you.”

“Jisung, stop, please. Not tonight, ok? On any other day I’d go along with your banter, but I have serious shit to get done with tonight.”

“Oh, ok. Do you want me to help with anything?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Thanks for offering.”

I give up on my story for the time being and slip an earbud into the ear facing away from Jisung. I pull out a thicc textbook and finish my Calculus homework. A page of notebook paper later, I’m done. I close the book, lean back in my seat, and rub my eyes.

“You look like you need a break,” he notes.

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, you deserve it. I’ll even play with your hair.” Darn it! Why why why does Jisung know all my weaknesses? It’s always a destresser for me when plays with my hair. Still, I’m a little hesitant to completely neglect my work for five minutes.

“I’ll give you a back rub too.” Hesitation? Productivity? Who? We don’t know them.

I fall into his outstretched arms and nuzzle my head in the crook of his neck. He laughs a little, leaning back in his chair. His soft hoodie creates a comfortable cushioning, and I sigh in contentment when he runs a hand through my hair, wrapping my arms around his waist. He shifts his legs so his knees are slightly angled toward me, and I do the same.

Then he shifts his right arm and closes the lid of my computer. And picks it up off the table. And sets it back down further away from me so I can’t reach it.

“Jisungggggg,” I whine, reluctantly lifting up my head. I extend my left arm, trying to grasp it, but he just pushes it away again. “I need that. Gotta get this bread. Flaunt that croissant. Ice that rice.” I’m not sure when I stopped talking and started babbling nonsense, but I can blame my lack of sleep for that.

‘What you need is a good night of rest.” He picks up the laptop and holds it close to him, turning away from me.

My senses kick back in. “No! I need to get all this stuff done first. Then I can sleep. Give,” my right hand grasps the edge of my computer. “It,” I give a strong yank. “Back!” We engage in a brief game of tug-of-war before I almost pull it out of his grasp. Then he snatches it back, firmly in his grip.

I huff and pull out my phone forcefully, opening the Google doc containing my poems and stories I’m planning on presenting at open mic for a few revisions and edits. “Must you always be this infuriating? Like, is there a point to stealing my computer when there’s stuff I need to do?”

A small, almost imperceptible pause. I almost don’t even notice it because it’s so brief. It goes straight to the back of my mind.

“You need to rest, y/n. I don’t think all of this stressing is good for you.”

“That doesn’t mean you can steal my computer.”

“Deal with it.”

I sigh. “I hate you right now,” I mumble tiredly. I go back to skimming over my prose and poetry, inserting and deleting a few words here and there.

I have no idea how long the silence stretches on until Jisung responds. “I know, you’ve told me.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz it’s the truth.” Is it grammatically acceptable to use the word ‘like’ in a narrative if you want to have a casual tone? Like, if you want to express a coherent train of thought without using too many words? Would that tone be acceptable? Jisung’s tone just now was off. He almost seemed hurt—oh my god what did I just say.

I come to the (belated) realization that I falsely told him I hated him—with what sounded like conviction, too!—just as he speaks.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and sometimes, you treat me like I’m you’re enemy or rival. I thought we were friends. I wrote you a song—multiple songs. I’ve tried dropping so many hints about how I see you as more than just a friend, but all this time, you saw me as less than one.”

My drowsiness has dissipated. “No, Jisung, I wasn’t thinking—have you never seen me as a rival?”

“It’s ok. You’re not obligated to feel anything for me. You don’t owe me anything. And of course not. I would never see you in such a negative way.” His entire demeanor changes. Jisung is normally very open about his emotions, whether he’s happy, stressed, excited, sad, hurt, enthusiastic, or serious. In this instance, though, his face falls into a more neutral expression that betrays next to nothing about what he’s thinking. But this expression is more than enough to tell me what he feels.

He’s hurt because of what I said. Deeply hurt.

“You could’ve just told me that you hated me,” he continues. “I don’t understand why you would make me feel like we were friends while secretly despising me.”

“Jisung, I don’t hate you.”

“Sure you don’t.” He laughs without humor. “Well, seeing as you clearly don’t want my company, I’ll leave now.” He shoves his laptop, textbook, and notebook into his backpack. He rises and starts walking off.

I rush after him.

“No, Jisung, I didn’t mean it. Please just listen to me.” I catch his left arm a few seconds after we exit the library. He stands there, stationary, neither moving towards me nor pulling away from me. The wind gently breezes past the two of us, tousling the ends of his hair. My heart threatens to get stuck in my throat. I swallow and force myself to go on. “I don’t hate you. You can hate me all you want for saying hurtful things to you, but I’ve never hated you and never will.”

“I could never hate you. And while you may not completely hate me, if you’ve always felt hostile toward me—ever since the start of our so-called ‘friendship’—I don’t really know what to think anymore.”

“No, that’s not what I think. At all. Please hear me out.”

“I think I should leave. Have fun studying without a constant annoying distraction.” He lets his arm slip out of my grip, taking a step forward. “Goodbye.”

He takes long strides away from the library, away from me. All I can think about is how wrong he is. About how wrong I am.

I hurt him, a person with one of the truest hearts and most genuine personalities I’ve ever met. Always being open and transparent with his thoughts, never failing to make me smile. He knows me so well, and I know so much about him, too. He’s been through the ups and the downs with me, and I’ve stayed by his side when he’s needed support, too. He even manages to harness raw, heavy emotions and transform it into beautiful songs such as ‘I see’ that he, Han Jisung, J. One, produces. And now he thinks I hate him.

“No,” I whisper to myself after he’s gone and no one is around to hear me. “It’s the opposite of that.”

I like him so much. Platonically, and romantically. But I’ve missed my chance to tell him, and I’ve broken our friendship that we’ve always had, even if I denied its existence.

Five words can crush someone.

•••

Six words.

Once I’m done with my self reflection about just how foolish and spiteful I acted, I call Ryujin, Hyunjin, and Tzuyu for help. We meet at the dorm Ryujin and I share.

Hyunjin silently shakes his head. Ryujin gives me a side-hug, rubbing circles into my right shoulder. Tzuyu is the first to speak after I describe the events that happened.

“He really likes you. He’s written at least five songs for you and ten songs about you. That day in the cafe, when I ran into him and saw you, he asked for my opinion on one of his songs for you. The reason why he’s never asked you two,” she glances at Hyunjin and Ryujin, “is because he thought you guys would spill the beans.” She sits down on my right side and offers me a hug. “You need to talk to him as soon as possible. He’s cares enough to write songs for you.”

“I know, but he won’t respond to any of my messages or calls.”

“Honestly,” Hyunjin starts, “I’m sorry if this sounds bad, but we were always convinced that you two were secretly dating and wouldn’t tell us.” He half-smiles awkwardly. “Don’t give up just yet.”

“I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t say that!” Ryujin comforts. “We all make mistakes. Don’t let this bother you and make you give up. I’d say that you’ve learned a lot from this.”

“Thanks, Ryu.” I groan, my face falling into my hands. “What the heck am I supposed to do?” I wrote you a song. I thought we were friends. I’ve dropped hints about how I see you as more than just a friend.

He cares enough to write songs for you.

I’ve been thinking of ways to reference Jisung in my poems.

“That’s it!” I exclaim. “Poetry! And maybe a short story, too.” When I see three confused faces, I elaborate. “He’s written songs about me, right? Well, writing is important to me, so what if I wrote about him in the stuff I’m reading at the open mic? And apologize and explain to him afterwards? All I need to do is make sure he goes to open mic, and you guys could help me convince him. At least, that’s the best idea I can think of right now.”

“Sure.” “We’ll help you.” “You got this, girl!”

Their encouragement lifts my mood, and I’m overly optimistic for a second. My phone buzzes, and I dare to hope that I might be able to mend my relationship with Jisung.

The message is from Jisung, and I foolishly hope for the best. Then I read what he sent.

You don’t have to pretend, y/n.

He doesn’t believe me. He doubts that I see him positively because of how hurtful I acted and the words I said to him. Honestly, I don’t even blame him. If I was in his position, I’d probably do the same.

I have screwed up. Big time.

I never meant to hurt or belittle him, even if I claimed he was my enemy. But somewhere along the way, I turned into one of the worst kinds of people and did.

I hope I can salvage this.

•••

Seven words.

Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down. Everything will turn out fine.

It’s showtime. After much persuasion, Tzuyu and Hyunjin convinced Jisung to perform at open mic (of course, they had to make him think I wouldn’t attend.) Jisung will perform first, then perform one more time after three people. I’m the person right before him.

I stand inside near the counter, far away from our regular table near the windows. He hasn’t seen me yet. I fiddle with my hands, trying to hide my face. I breathe a sigh of relief when he hops on stage to perform. He hasn’t seen me yet.

He greets the patrons of the cafe, cracking a few jokes before kicking things off with a revised version of ‘For you’. He gets halfway through it before he locks eyes with me.

I tentatively wave. He glances away.

After he finishes, he receives a warm round of applause. He grins, equally bashful and proud, and hops off the stage. He situates himself far away from me.

Two more people present. Two and a half minutes into the second person’s slam poetry performance, I work up the courage to shuffle over to him.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’ve never hated you. I’ve never even disliked you. In fact, I feel the opposite way. I just never thought you’d see me as more than a friend, so I tried convincing myself that you weren’t an all-around amazing person. It didn’t work. It would never work.”

He stares at me, not speaking. I press on.

“You’re one of the most genuine people I know. I can always tell what you’re thinking, because you have nothing to hide. You’re incredibly dedicated. You’ve been a great friend to me, especially when I was rude to you and didn’t deserve it. You see the best in everyone and encourage them to showcase their strengths.” I take a fluttering breath. “I never thought that someone like you would even consider someone like me. I’m sorry for calling you annoying and saying that I hated you. You’re not annoying. I don’t think anyone who’s ever met you would hate you.” I lace my fingers together. “I am really, truly sorry for saying untrue, hurtful things to you.”

The poet onstage finishes. The people watching applaud. I’m next, but I’m frozen in place.

Jisung breaks the silence. “Good luck. We can talk later.”

I dare to smile, and walk onstage.

I’ve chosen to share a short story about the time I accidentally kicked my friend in the face when we took a dance class, saving my poems for another time. I’m really telling a story about Jisung. I take a deep breath and begin.

“This is the story of how I almost broke my friend’s nose.” This is the story of how I broke my friend’s heart.

I describe the contemporary dance class we were in and how close our friendship was. “She was one of my closest friends. I don’t know what I would have done without her.” He’s one of my closest friends. I don’t know what I would do without him.

I add details to build an image of that day, inserting humor and appealing to the audience’s senses, while making sure that my plot advances. “I wasn’t paying enough attention to my surroundings. When I kicked my leg up, my foot collided with her face.” I wasn’t being true to myself or him. When I spoke, my words attacked him.

“I felt immediate regret. I had hurt my friend on accident because I was careless.” I immediately felt horrible. I hurt him with my careless words and actions.

“For a few horrifying minutes, she couldn’t talk because of the pain. I thought our friendship was over and that she would never forgive me.” For a few terrifying days, he wouldn’t talk to me because of the pain I caused. I thought our friendship was over. I thought he would never forgive me. I still do.

“Yet in the end, she chose to forgive my mistake. Even though my actions didn’t reflect how deeply I cared about her, she knew me well enough to understand it was an accident. She knew how much she meant to me, and how I never intended to hurt her.” I hope he can find it in his heart to forgive me. I hope he knows me well enough to know that he means the world to me. I hope that all is not lost.

“It’s easy to harm someone on purpose. It’s even easier to do it on accident, because we’re not fully aware of our actions—we zone out—until we can see a concrete impact. Be self-aware. And if you want to do something fun with a friend, make sure it’s in a low-risk setting. Don’t end up like me! I might have taken the phrase “break a leg” literally if I was a little more careless. The point is, people need time to think. Forgiveness is not easy to receive. But when someone chooses to forgive because they want to, especially if that person plays a crucial role in your life, that can mean the world to someone. Thank you.”

Granted, that’s not the best narrative I could produce, but given my time limit of one-and-a-half day, I’m not too disappointed in myself.

Jisung and I pass each other when he heads toward the stage.

“This song is dedicated to someone special,” he says once he’s onstage. “I hope you guys like it!”

And it’s about me. Us. The time we stayed up until 2am studying and found this cafe because it was the only one open then. The time we wrote tons of poems, narratives, and short stories together (most of them were as a meme, barely longer than four sentences) because we bet the other person they weren’t as creative (it ended as a tie—we created the last poem together). The time he asked for help on the lyrics for a song and I ended up showing him a few of my poems willingly.

My eyes are glued to him, right up until he exits the stage and walks up to me. Then they flit towards the stage for a moment while I try to prepare myself for whatever he has to say. The world stops spinning as he opens his mouth.

“I forgive you.”

Blissfully, unexpectedly, the world starts spinning again. “You do?”

“You didn’t mean it, and while it hurt to hear, I know you don’t actually think that way. It’s not like I’m perfect, either. I’ll get annoyed and say things that aren’t true, too.” He reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. “I know you, y/n. Like you said, you wouldn’t hurt someone on purpose.” He gives a gentle tug on my hand. “You want to get out of here?”

“I’d love to.” I lean up and press a brief kiss against his cheek. “Where to?”

“You know that new burger place we wanted to try out? I was thinking we could go there.” He pauses. “As a first date,” he adds, the slightest hesitance showing.

I grab his other hand and take a half step towards him. “That sounds like the perfect first date.” I blush. He blushes. He pecks my forehead, the tip of my nose, and both of my cheeks. I untangle our hands to reach up and pinch his cheeks, squishing them together. Mindful of the people in the cafe, we leave soon after, sparing them from watching our PDA. We decide on taking my car, since I drove by myself here and Hyunjin dropped him off and yeeted out of here. (Speaking of Hyunjin, he, Ryujin, and Tzuyu have been blowing up the group chat—The 3 Musketeers—asking how things went. I text them that things went well, and silence my phone.)

Before I start the car, he takes my right hand. “Don’t ever think you’re not good enough,” he states firmly. “You are good enough. 100%. Don’t doubt yourself.”

“Aw, thank you. I realize that a little more now. I was really out of it that day. I turned into a mean version of myself, but I’m working on being more aware of what I’m feeling.”

“Don’t worry about it, y/n. You’re only human. What matters the most is that you truly didn’t mean it and you’re sorry. I’m with you right now,” he starts drawing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb, “am I not?”

“You’re right. You are with me now.” I lean in to kiss his cheek, reluctantly pulling away after a few moments to start driving. “Now, Mr. Han Jisung… give me the best first date ever.”

I smile. He smiles. We’re blissfully happy.

•••

Eight words.

That night, the squad gathers at our dorm and invites Jisung in after our date to question, gush over, and tease us. I spend most of the time curled up in his arms, snuggling with him as Ryujin asks what his intentions are (“To show this wonderful lady how much I love her.” “You pass.”).

Hyunjin keeps insisting he was right all along (“I knew you would end up dating!” “Whatever cooks your bacon, buddy.” “You were right, ‘jin! You’re like a fortune-teller. Quick, tell me what I’ll get on my English story next week!” “Uh… 420.”).

Tzuyu grabs me by the shoulders and squeals about how much of a power couple we are (“You guys are so cute! You could write each other poems as gifts! Aaaaah, our y/n is growing up so fast!” “...thanks, mom.”).

While we talk, I occasionally press light kisses anywhere I can reach: his cheek, his neck, his hand, his forehead, and his lips. The reactions are either highkey shipping (Ryu and Tzu) or highkey faked disgust (Hyunjin lmao). (We don’t tell them that we made out in the car for a solid twenty minutes before coming inside.)

The topic shifts from our relationship to anything and everything. After passionately debating whether humans are inherently neutral (neither good nor evil) and if raccoons should be considered pests, it’s well past midnight, and Tzu-Hyun-Sung head home.

The next day, Saturday, we have a weekly hangout with the nine boys and us three girls. More teasing ensues (particularly from the Aussie line and Changbin), but the day is like any other until that night.

Jisung and I go on our second official date to our favorite ramen store, the one where we know the owner by name. We take a stroll outside by a river afterwards, admiring the scenery.

“Y/n, I really like you. I get so happy whenever I see you, or even think about you. You make me want to compose a million love songs and dedicate them all to you. So what I’m saying is… I’m asking you if you’ll be my girlfriend?”

“Yes! A million times yes. I would love to. I could write a million poems about you.” I lean up and kiss him, smiling as I do so. “I would love to be your girlfriend, sweetheart.”

“You finally called me a pet name, babe! Why are you so cute?” Another smooch. He presses his forehead against mine. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“You’re cute. And I’m the lucky one.” I suddenly step back and grab onto his shoulders. “The lucky J. One!”

He laughs, shaking his head, and we continue walking. “This is part of what made me fall for you.” He swoops down for another kiss, leaving me a blushing, stuttering mess.

Jisung really has a way with words. Of course, that’s a given, seeing as he’s a songwriter and poet. But combined with his actions and intentions, his strong work ethic and how much he cares about everyone, the transparency of his thoughts and emotions, he really is unique.

He has the power to make me speechless. But I’ll always have eight words to say.

You are amazing and loveable. Never forget that.

•••

Happy birthday, Han Jisung. You have the support of all us Stays.

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moonlightrichie · 5 years

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i’ll be your light (i will guide you home)

Chapter 1 - “Tour groups sure are fun, aren’t they?”

My contribution to the @itfandomprompts IT Fandom Week day 3: Summer Romance AU This started simple, but I got super carried away so now it’s a multi-chaptered thing oops I’m not even sorry

Summary:

Eddie is on his summer vacation when he meets the charming tour guide Richie Tozier, and even though he's only staying there for five days, that doesn't stop Eddie from falling utterly and completely in love.

Word count: 6908 Pairing: Reddie Rating: Explicit (this chapter isn’t, but there will be sexual content in a later chapter) Warnings: Mentions of sex, drinking alcohol, cursing

READ ON AO3 HERE

Eddie had always dreamt of travelling across Europe with train. Ever since listening to Bev and Ben talk about the trip they went on the summer three years ago, it was all he wanted to do. From Berlin to Prague to Paris, then Budapest and Brussels, to Munich and Amsterdam, all these wonderful places he’d heard so much about, but never seen for himself.

Ben had been his best friend ever since they were kids and they had stayed that way until they finished high school. Beverly had come into their lives the senior year when Ben started dating her, and she’d fit in so well with them that it felt natural to go from a duo to a trio. And even though they were couple, the two of them never acted in a way that made Eddie feel like he was third-wheeling.

It had been Beverly who had wanted to go to Europe that summer after graduation, the adventurous girl that she was, and so her and Ben planned it together, saving up tons of money for the train tickets. If Eddie was honest, he had been horrified at the thought of travelling like that, three weeks with no permanent place to stay, living in shitty motels, a new one every couple of days.

Didn’t seem like a very relaxing vacation if you asked him.

But when the two of them had returned, they had seemed like new people, suntanned and happier than Eddie had ever seen them.

And the stories they told, oh wow, Eddie had gotten so jealous. How beautiful the Eiffel Towel looked at night when it lit up, how it would sparkle for a couple of minutes every passing hour after dark. How devastating it was in Berlin when they heard all the terrible stories about concentration camps and the Berlin wall during a tour, but yet how cool some of the artwork on the wall was. How good the waffles were in Brussels (the best they’d ever tasted) and how there was a five-story nightclub in Prague with a different theme for each floor.

“You should have seen it!” Beverly had said. “It closed at 7am and when we left our motel, I’d thought no way in hell are we staying that long. I was thinking like maybe we’d leave around 3am or something? But then the hours just flew past, and we danced and drank- it cost less than two bucks a beer, did you know that? Two fucking bucks! Anyways, before I knew what was happening the club was emptying out and I was all like, what’s happening, where is everybody going? We had been partying for six hours straight without even noticing! All night long!”

“Wow”, Eddie had said, not quite able to imagine Ben partying all night. They hadn’t even been old enough to drink in the states at that point.

But then there was the story from Paris about the motel they’d stayed at. They’d gotten to the city late that day and after checking into the motel. They’d gone out for a late-night dinner, and then when they’d gotten back at around 11pm, there had been a random man sleeping in their bed.

“We were just walking in, chatting quietly and planning to go to bed when Bev saw him”, Ben had explained. “She’d quieted down as I was rummaging around in my suitcase, poking at my shoulder frantically and pointing at the bed. So we quickly left and checked out of the hotel, I mean… we couldn’t stay.”

“Yeah! And we didn’t even get our money back”, Bev had added.

“Yeah, but it was an interesting experience.”

“And it’s turned into a great story.”

Eddie had listened with wide eyes, knowing that he himself would have been terrified. If it was that easy breaking into a motel room, he was definitely not ever staying in one. Beverly had only laughed when telling the story though, so she was obviously not that traumatized by the incident.

Oh yes, Eddie sure dreamed of purchasing that Interrail ticket and just go. Only he’d book some proper hotels just to be on the safe side. Then again, he didn’t want to do it alone, but his friends weren’t able to come with. They had spent too much on their Interrail that one summer, making it impossible for them to afford a trip that expensive again. And even though he’d asked them every single year since, hoping they’d say yes, they’d only apologetically shaken their heads instead.

Eddie didn’t use to see himself as a person who liked to travel, but he’d definitely changed his mind. Who was he to decide that when he hadn’t even tried it? Besides, he’d lived his whole life in Derry, and he craved to get out. His fingers had been itching all year, a deep pain in his chest festering with every day passing, and it was summer again. And finally, he was going on his first travelling experience.

And okay, so it wasn’t interrailing across Europe, but instead the west coast of the US. And fine, it wasn’t l’Arc du Triomphe and Belgian Chocolate, but instead Hollywood and maybe the Grand Canyon if he was lucky. And yes all right, it wasn’t with his friends, but with his Ma.

But at least they were travelling by train.

Oh, who was he kidding, he was on a vacation with the one person he needed a vacation from. And it wasn’t that he hadn’t looked forward to visiting California and Nevada and seeing their beautiful cities and nature, but he had truly struggled a whole lot getting real excited about it.

As he stepped out into the LA light for the first time in his life, suitcase in hand and grease in his hair, he felt the Hollywood sun blind his vision, and for a second he was overwhelmed at the contentment settling in his chest. Closing his eyes he let himself breathe in the thick air, and he smiled slightly to himself. After the four-hour ride, it was nice to finally move his feet again. They’d had to get up at 7am to take the train that left at 8:30am, and even though he was tired, Eddie was glad to have the whole extra day to spend there.

Los Angeles was their third destination, and one of the longest stays on their trip (four nights, five days), and it was definitely the one he had looked the most forward to.

“I’ve booked us a tour in Hollywood at 3pm”, his Ma said from next to him, already holding a map of the city. “I think we have time to get to our hotel and leave our baggage there before going out again.”

“Do I have time for a shower?”

He hadn’t had time for his routinely morning shower, and he was starting to feel gross. Earlier on the train, he’d put on a sweater on top of his t-shirt to hide the sweat patches under his arms. And even though that’d only made him sweat more, it had made him more comfortable, knowing he could move his arms properly without everyone seeing.

“I think so.”

So that’s what they did, and soon later, at 2:58pm, the two of them were standing with a tour group in the walk of fame, waiting for the tour guide to show up.

“Oh, hold on”, his Ma said suddenly, rummaging through her purse. “I need to take out some cash.”

“I think I saw an ATM around the corner back there.” Eddie pointed back to where they had come from.

“Good, I’ll be right back.” And she was gone.

Uncomfortable he looked around at the tour group, all evident tourists in shorts and tank tops with backpacks and maps in their hands. A group of girls in their twenties had dressed up in what they’d probably call ‘Instagram worthy outfits’ with caked makeup (one of them had overdrawn her lips a whole lot with bright red lipstick), all holding phones ready in their perfect manicured hands. There were a few couples there, one specifically who wasn’t able to keep their hands off of each other. The girl was stroking the guy’s arm way too sensually for the public eye to see, and Eddie looked away uneasily. Then there was what seemed to be a Scandinavian family, all of them blonde and pretty. The dad was wearing an ugly beige baseball hat with a moose on it, and Eddie wrinkled his nose.

“Tour groups sure are fun, aren’t they?” A raspy voice interrupted Eddie’s observations from behind him, and he spun around frantically.

A tall man seeming to be around the same age as Eddie was smiling down at him, crooked teeth on full display. With the sun suddenly blinding him, Eddie put up a hand over his eyes to block the bright light, and he could see the man properly now.

With a mop of dark curly hair and pretty blue eyes behind massive glasses, he managed to make Eddie speechless for a couple of seconds.

“Uh…”

“In this unbearable heat, this should be a lot of fun, don’t ya think?” the man continued, lifting his eyebrows in expectation of an answer.

“Sure.” Eddie felt completely and utterly awkward, not really the best at talking to strangers, and especially not tall, lanky guys with shining eyes and a charming smile.

“You here alone?” he asked, either seeming to not notice Eddie’s awkwardness or simply choosing to ignore it.

“I’m with my mom, she had to go take out some cash.” He pointed with his thumb behind him.

“Aah”, the guy nodded his head. “A nice family vacation then?”

Eddie shrugged. “It’s fine.” He groaned internally at his lame answers, for some reason wanting to impress this guy and for him to find Eddie interesting enough to keep talking to him. There was no denying that the man was cute.

“Well Hollywood’s real nice, lots of fun things to do, so I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” The man poked Eddie’s upper arm with his elbow, a playful smile on his pink lips.

“Well”, Eddie fumbled, looking down at his watch to see that the tour was supposed to start four minutes ago. “As long as the tour guide bothers to show up, then maybe I will.” He laughed, a little awkwardly.

The man creased his eyebrows, a semi-shocked expression taking over his face, and Eddie regretted his words instantly, scared he was coming off as mean.

He continued looking at him for a few seconds, but then his facial expression turned amused. He laughed slightly, just a small huff coming out his nose. “Yeah, kinda douche baggy to not show up for the tour you’re guiding, am I right?”

Eddie breathed out in relief, his next words flowing out of him before he could even think. “Right? Bad enough getting stood up by a date, but by the tour guide? I’m heartbroken”, he said sarcastically, trying for a small smile.

The guy only laughed more, Eddie joining in carefully before the two of them stopped and a comfortable silence settled between them.

“What’s your name?” the guy asked.

“It’s Eddie.”

“It was very nice meeting you Eddie, but I kinda need to get goin’. I’m late for work.” He winked at him, and Eddie could feel disappointment already forming in his chest, the pride he’d felt from making this pretty man laugh disappearing quickly.

But then the guy just stepped back a little, reached into the back pocket of his shorts and took out a black baseball hat. In confusion, Eddie looked as the guy put it on and clapped his hands loudly, attracting the attention from the other tourists.

“Alright, guys! Welcome to Hollywood. I’m Richie and I’ll be your tour guide today.” Eddie could feel all the heat in his cheeks disappear immediately, heart picking up speed. Looking at the man’s, Richie’s, hat, he noticed that it clearly said ‘tour guide’ in big red letters.

Oh, how Eddie had messed up.

“I’m sorry I was a little late, I got distracted”, he looked over at Eddie briefly; something of a small secret smile forming on his lips as they locked eyes, and he winked. “I’ll start by telling you a little bit about the background of the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and then we’ll walk down it after, sounds alright?”

The group gave scattered ‘yes’-es and nods of their head.

He noticed just then that his Ma was back by his side. “This will be so much fun, Eddie-bear”, she whispered to him, clapping her hands silently together.

He could only nod, his eyes locked on Richie.

The guided tour lasted for about two hours, and more than once Richie would look over at Eddie with that same smile and a spark in his eyes. Being funny and cracking dry jokes, he made the tour group laugh a lot between the informative parts of his script. Eddie didn’t doubt the jokes were scripted too, probably not the first time he was saying them today.

When it ended they were in the middle of the most popular part of the Walk of Fame, where there were tourists taking pictures with impressionists that had dressed up like Darth Vader and Spiderman and look-alikes of Justin Bieber and Britney Spears.

It was chaotic to say the least, and Eddie just wanted to get something to eat, starting to get tired from all the walking and still worn-out from the lack of sleep after the early train-ride.

“Let’s get something to eat, Ma”, he turned to her.

“Sure, bear”, she started looking around for a restaurant. “That tour was great, wasn’t it?”

“Sure.”

She reached down in her purse to take out her wallet. “I have some cash here, maybe you could go tip the guide a little while I find somewhere to eat?” She placed a five-dollar bill in his hand.

He nodded his head, and she smiled before taking out her phone, probably to search up different eating locations in the nearby area.

As Eddie started walking towards Richie, he noticed him already looking at him. It seemed like he was talking to the Scandinavian family, and they were laughing at something he’d said.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the tour! Have a great vacation!” Eddie heard him say. The family all said their thanks before scattering away just as he stepped up in front of Richie.

“Uhm, the tour was really great”, he reached out his hand, the tip between his fingers.

“Thanks”, Richie smiled and took the cash, their hands brushing for a second.

“And I’m really sorry for earlier, I’m absolutely mortified”, Eddie admitted, shaking his head with wide eyes.

Richie only smiled wider, eyes squinting at the bight sun in his eyes. “Don’t be, it was cute. And it was funny, I mean, you were right, so…”

Eddie chuckled sarcastically. “No seriously, that was totally uncalled for. The tour really was great.”

“Well, I’m glad, and I accept your apology”, Richie winked again.

“Alright, well, bye then”, Eddie smiled sadly at the thought of having to leave. Honestly, Eddie didn’t really ever get much attention from guys. Being gay had made it difficult for him to flirt obviously, having more than once been shot down by straight guys who’d told him things like ‘sorry, dude, I’m not gay’ in their most bro-voice, even close to sounding offended at the accusations that they might be.

But this time, Eddie was sure they’d had some sort of connection; at least Richie had seemed to be flirting with him. Or maybe he was only being friendly, and Eddie was seeing things that weren’t there, letting the excitement of being flirted with get the best of him.

He started to walk away, missing the way Richie’s smile dropped when he turned around.

“No, wait!” Richie yelled after him.

Eddie spun around. “What?”

“Are you free tonight?” he sputtered out in a rush.

The question caught Eddie off guard, and he stopped for a second to collect his thoughts. “I, uhh…”

Richie interrupted him before he could continue.

“Because yeah, being a tour guide is my job and all, you know, gotta make that bank and gets that moneys.” He rubbed his fingers together in a ‘cash’-gesture. “But I also play in a band? And we’re playing a concert tonight at this local pub. It’s not too far from here actually, but in a little more of a secluded area than the Walk of Fame, you can see how it is.” Richie was rambling, sounding almost nervous. “I just mean, maybe you’d like to come? Not to be rude or assuming, but you don’t really seem to be having the best time on your vacation, and I get that, especially if you only have your mom to hang out with. So I just thought maybe this would be fun? Getting to experience a normal LA night out and not just the façade that the tourists see when they visit, ya know? And I’d also really like to see you again too, and uhm…”

He stopped himself, scratching timidly at his neck and finally realizing he’d been talking for way too long. With his monologue, Eddie’s smile had grown larger by the second, absolutely charmed by the cute man in front of him.

The hat was still perched on his head, dark curls pushing out from underneath it, and in a way it framed his head in a weird way, but it only made him even more mesmerizing to watch. Now that he was no longer silhouetted by the sun, but instead lit up by it, Eddie could get a good look at his face.

With freckles all over his pale skin and blue eyes glittering in the shadow from his hat, he was now looking at Eddie with a blush on his face and a crooked smile playing on his lips. He still had some awkwardness to him, being much taller than Eddie with gangly limbs and eyes magnified behind his glasses.

In a way, Eddie was surprised at the nervous ramble Richie had just stammered out after seeming to be so smooth when they first started talking.

All in all, the man was undeniably charming and cute, and Eddie would love to see him again. So he nodded, trying to hold back the wide smile that was trying to force its way onto his face. “I’d love to.”

Seeming almost surprised, Richie breathed out in relief. “Shit, that’s… Uh, that’s great! It starts at 10:30pm, and we have a soundcheck at 7. But I have time after that, so I can probably meet you here at 9 then? And we can walk there together?”

“Sounds great”, Eddie nodded, smiling widely. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

Richie’s grin grew bigger. “Me too.”

Silence settled over them, both smiling at each other shyly.

“Eddie!” They were interrupted by the voice of his Ma. They both turned, and she was waving Eddie over. “I found an Italian place that looks pretty nice!”

“Coming, Ma!” He turned back to Richie, hands on his hips. “I have to go.” He nodded his head in the direction of his Ma.

“Okay.” Richie cocked his head to the side. “You like Italian?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, important question. Pizza or pasta?”

Eddie snickered lightly, his laughter fading into a thoughtful ‘uh’. “I think pizza.”

Richie nodded his head approvingly. “Pizza’s a good choice. I prefer pasta myself.” Then he pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. “I mean you’re quite the snack, Spagh-Eddie.” He amplified the pronunciation by splitting up the words, putting extra pressure on the last part.

Eddie sputtered. “Oh, god, that’s…” he shook his head. “That’s so bad.”

“Oh, what can I say, I’m quite the bad boy.” Richie winked.

Eddie put up his hands with a shocked scoff. “Nuh uh, nope, I’m cancelling our plans, this is goodbye.”

Of course he was kidding, and Richie knew that, if the amused smile on his face was anything to go by. “Nah, you’re too charmed by me.”

And of course Richie was just messing around, but Eddie couldn’t help but smile genuinely. “Yeah, I am.”

Richie’s eyebrows rose slightly, seeming to process Eddie’s admission. “Oh.”

“I’ll see you at 9”, Eddie said before Richie could say anything else. “Bye.”

Then he turned around and started walking towards his Ma, barely catching the dazed ‘bye’ from Richie.

His Ma looked impatient, tapping her foot on one of the stars with a name Eddie had never heard before.

“What took so long?”

Eddie kept quiet for a second, considering what to tell her. “I have plans tonight.”

“What?” She gaped. “But we’re on a vacation together, the two of us.”

“I know, Ma”, Eddie sighed. “But he asked if I wanted to go to a pub tonight, and I really want to.”

“No, I’m not allowing that”, she declared.

“You don’t get to decide that”, he snapped. “Ma, I’m 22 now, you can’t stop me from doing things for myself.”

She only grumbled, unlocking her phone to open the maps app. It was obvious the discussion was over, nothing she could do about it.

The pasta restaurant was nice, Eddie not being able to resist ordering spaghetti, settling for the Bolognese and thinking about Richie the entire time. He kept catching himself smiling into his pasta whenever he thought about the night he had in store.

It was around 7:45pm when they arrived back at the hotel, and Eddie only had about 45 minutes until he had to leave. Quickly washing his face and armpits and brushing his teeth, he managed to mentally prepare what outfit he wanted to go with. He ended up with some high-waisted washed-out denim jeans and a light copper-colored t-shirt with a little chest pocket. Something simple that wasn’t trying too hard, but still cute enough to look good. A simple styling of his hair and he was out the hotel door, ten minutes early.

His Ma didn’t even look at him when he passed her bed on his way out, but he didn’t care, only putting on his white denim jacket and converse. “Don’t wait up”, he mumbled before closing the door.

It was getting chillier outside, and he was happy he chose jeans instead of shorts, knowing it’d get colder as the night progressed. Taking his time walking, knowing he was early, he appreciated the sight of the city. The sun had set only a little while ago, and the sky was still a pretty turquoise where it had gone down.

Turning the final corner, he could see the spot they were supposed to be meeting in the short distance, and he quickly noticed Richie already standing there. Eddie looked down on his watch. 8:52pm.

Richie was rocking back and forth on his heels, seeming to fix the way his jean jacket was looking and pulling up his pants and adjusting his belt, and Eddie could feel excitement build in his stomach at the sight.

Then Richie looked up, finally noticing Eddie getting closer and he waved, and soon the two of them were in front of each other, shy smiles on their faces.

“Hi.”

Another silence followed, neither of them knowing how to continue. Richie gestured with his hand. “Shall we?”

“We shall”, Eddie agreed, and the two of them started walking, Richie leading the way.

They chattered a little along the way, Richie asking about what music Eddie liked (“80’s pop divas and Ariana Grande”, he’d replied honestly, refusing to be ashamed of himself even though he knew that most likely Richie didn’t listen to any of that stuff. “What about you?” “Oh, I prefer rock and hip hop mostly, a little indie sometimes and like you, I really love stuff from the 80’s, just maybe not the same artists”, he winked.), and telling him about the band he played in.

Richie talked about how it was his dream to make it with his band, but was also content with the idea of just having it as a hobby if they weren’t able to. Even though Eddie asked, Richie didn’t want to reveal too much of what kind of music they played (“you’ll just have to wait and see, Spaghetti”), but Eddie learned that Richie played guitar as well as being the lead singer.

When they finally got to the pub, there were several people waiting in line to get in.

“They don’t open the pub until 10pm, but because I’m in the band, we can get in early”, Richie whispered into his ear, and after a quick text, the doorman opened the entrance. He narrowed his eyes at Eddie, but Richie only smiled and said: “he’s with me” and the two of them were let in after a quick ID-check.

It was weird seeing a pub so empty, only a couple handfuls of people sitting around, most of them looking like employees.

“I’ll buy you a drink, what do you want?” Richie asked.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Oh, sure I do!” he waved his hand in dismissal. “I invited you here, and besides, I get a discount because I’m playing tonight.

“Oh, sure then, I guess.” Eddie smiled. “Just a beer is fine.”

“Comin’ right up”, and he was off, leaving Eddie standing there alone.

Eddie wiped his clammy hands on his jean-clad thighs uncomfortably, not knowing what to do. There were three people sitting in a booth by the window, not looking like they worked there. Probably Richie’s band, Eddie thought.

They were looking at him curiously, but when they noticed he’d caught them staring, they quickly looked away, resuming their conversation. He walked over to where Richie was standing by the bar, seeing the newly poured beer being handed to him by the bartender.

“Thanks, man”, Richie said before turning to see Eddie standing right next to him. “Here ya go.”

“Thanks”, Eddie said, grabbing the beer, their hands brushing again. Richie kept his fingers on Eddie’s for a second longer this time, stroking his index finger with his thumb softly before pulling away. The tiny touch made electricity course through Eddie’s veins, from the tips of his fingers and down to his toes. Even in the darkness, he could see the way Richie’s cheeks turned a pretty pink color, and feeling the heat in his own cheeks, Eddie knew his face looked the same.

Richie then introduced Eddie to his bandmates, the three from the booth. There was Stan, a dirty-blonde haired man in a black turtleneck with good cheekbones; he played guitar. There was Bill on bass: a tall man with red hair and an attractive authority. And then there was Mike on drums: a handsome dark-skinned man with the kindest smile Eddie had ever laid eyes on. They all shook his hand politely, Mike apologizing for their staring earlier.

“Just Richie who’s been talking about you non-stop all day”, Stan laughed, teasing Richie by elbowing him in his side.

The three of them laughed at Richie’s expense, and Eddie couldn’t help the happy smile forming on his lips at their words, trying to hide it by looking down at the table. Richie just flipped him off even though the blush on his cheeks was undeniable.

“Alright guys, way to embarrass me”, he groaned. He was sitting next to Eddie in the booth, their thighs pressed together. Eddie felt something like bravery edging him on, and he let his hand drift over to Richie’s leg, laying his hand gently just above his knee.

Seeing Richie’s head snap towards him immediately in his peripheral vision and feeling his gaze burn into the side of his face, he slowly looked over shyly. “This okay?” he whispered so only Richie could hear.

“Uh, yeah.” Richie was staring at him so intensely, bright eyes seeming to study Eddie’s face. But then he looked away, and soon after Eddie could feel the gentle touch of Richie’s hand land on top of his.

Putting his elbow on the table, Eddie leaned his chin in his hand, covering his mouth with the palm to hide his wide smile.

First 10pm rolled by, the pub quickly filling up with people, and then it was 10:15 and the band had to go backstage to start their pre-concert routine. Eddie ended up standing by the bar, a nice view of the stage even through the mass of people in front on him.

Soon it was 10:30pm, and the band was exiting the back and stepping onto the stage, all of them turning on their amps and making sure everything was working the way it was supposed to. And then they were breaking out into their first song.

It started just with a groovy guitar riff from Stan and a drum beat. But soon it picked up, Richie playing a simply lead on his guitar and the bass joining in. Eddie wanted to dance already.

Richie stepped up to the microphone and started singing, the others joining in on backup vocals. His voice wasn’t the absolute best, but it worked well with the vibe of the song, the lyrics simple, but melody catchy, and Eddie found himself bop his head to the beat.

“I only see you when you’re walking”, Richie sang. “Walking to somewhere. You’re so restless.” Bill and Stan replying with an “aha, aha”.

“It must be special there”, he finished the chorus, gaze locked on Eddie as he backed away from the mic for an instrumental break. Moving with the music, he smiled widely, and he looked truly happy. There was no doubt about it that Richie belonged on that stage.

The crowd was dancing, some just nodding their head, while others were swaying back and forth. The entire atmosphere was magical, and it was obvious they had some actual fans in the front row, singing along and cheering louder than the rest of the audience. The sight made Eddie smile, feeling his shoulders relax, and he let out a content sigh.

Richie had bought him another beer before they’d left for backstage, but Eddie had already finished it, and he quickly waved down the bartender for another.

Their set lasted for another half hour (one song especially with a reggae vibe and lyrics that had made Eddie laugh was carved into his memory) when Richie announced they were playing their last song for the night. With cheeks starting to hurt (he hadn’t been able to stop smiling the entire time, feeling a happiness he hadn’t experienced in a while), he started cheering himself.

Their last song started with just Richie’s vocals.

“I wanna do something!” he yelled.

“What d’ya wanna do?” the others followed.

“Dance!” he finished before jumping into the first verse, and then the entire crowd was doing just that, even more than before. With time passing and intoxication rising, it seemed the people were less scared to dance.

As the chorus started, the hook going ‘I’m touching you, you’re touching me, I’m touching you, you’re touching me’, Eddie couldn’t help but start bouncing on his feet, the lyrics so easy that he found himself singing along.

As the band finished, the crowd was cheering loudly, and the four of them were happily standing on the stage proudly, accepting the applause. “Thank you all!” Richie yelled, and then they started packing up their gear and disappeared backstage, Richie winking at Eddie as he passed him.

Eddie stood standing by the bar, waiting and contently sipping at his beer. Feeling the warmth of the alcohol spreading through his body, he felt comfortable standing alone for a while. Not like before.

Soon he saw a body move next to his own and leaning against the bar. “Hello there.”

“Hi!” Eddie turned, hands moving wildly, energy taking over him after the show. “That was amazing! Those songs were so fun and catchy, wow, uhm, I had such a great time watching.”

Richie was grinning. “Oh, you sure know how to make a gal blush”, he said in a weird southern accent.

Eddie shook his head in amusement.

“No, but seriously, thank you.” Richie was leaning in closer, eyes boring into him.

“Can I buy you a beer?” Eddie asked. “After the amazing show you just pulled off, it’s well deserved.”

“Sure”, he kept his eyes on Eddie even as he ordered and paid, something special in the look on his face, head tilted back, his gaze powerful and the ghost of a smirk to be seen on his lips, which Eddie just noticed were invitingly plump and soft looking.

Something was bubbling in Eddie’s stomach, and he was pretty certain it wasn’t from the alcohol. Looking around he noticed there were no places available to sit, so the two of them ended up standing there for the next hour or so, drinking and chatting. When Richie heard what hotel Eddie was staying at, he excitedly told how he didn’t live too far from there. He shared an apartment with Stan, and they’d lived there together since they left high school two years ago. Something about the fact that his hotel was close to Richie’s home made a spark form in Eddie’s chest, heart picking up the slightest of speed.

They were moving closer to each other by the second, Richie’s hand landing on Eddie’s waist at some point.

After a while, Richie looked over Eddie’s shoulder quickly before looking back at Eddie. “Wanna dance?”

Eddie turned around to check out the dancing crowd, the perfect amount on it, not so few that it was awkward, but not so many that dancing was impossible with the lack of space. So he nodded, a little breathless. “Yeah.”

And high on the tension between them and drunk from the alcohol they’d had, the two of them were dancing close, Eddie’s arms around Richie’s neck and Richie’s hands on Eddie’s hips. Even though Eddie wasn’t the best dancer in the world, he was still comfortable, knowing he still had rhythm in his body. And Richie was following his lead, his body flushed against Eddie’s. They were pressing close, Richie’s breath hot against Eddie’s ear.

It was intoxicating having him so close, feeling Richie’s cheek press against his temple, his stubble scratching gently at Eddie’s skin. With their bodies touching everywhere and the heat from the rest of the dancing crowd, they were both sweating, air thick between them. Something bubbled deep inside Eddie’s stomach when he felt Richie’s fingers push underneath his sweater and onto bare skin, and he let out a shaky breath.

“Do you want to come back to my place after?” Richie whispered, voice rough.

Eddie wasn’t surprised by the question, knowing what the night had been leading up to all along. But still he hesitated. Of course he wanted to have sex with Richie, but he was also scared for it to become a one-time type of thing and that they’d never see each other again.

And even though Eddie wasn’t completely inexperienced, there was also the fact that Eddie hadn’t ever fully fucked anybody before, and he was sure as hell not giving up his virginity to a one-night stand.

“Uhm”, he started, unsure of how to form his sentences. He didn’t want it to come out too rudely, desperately wanting Richie to understand that Eddie wanted to, but just not on their first day of knowing each other.

“Maybe not tonight?” he whispered carefully, trying intentionally to hint at them meeting again and pulling his head back so he could look at Richie properly. Something about the look in Richie’s eyes was intoxicating, hypnotic, and Eddie could feel himself getting entirely entranced by this gorgeous man in front of him.

Eddie didn’t know what to expect as a reaction, afraid of something angry, or maybe an indifferent ‘whatever’. Worst of all, he was afraid of Richie leaving and ending up going home with someone else. But instead, Richie’s intense stare only softened, a sincere smile on his face. “Alright.”

But he didn’t move away, only continued dancing, the air a little less affected by the sexual heat between them now, but still pleasant.

“Maybe I can see you again tomorrow? Show you around the city during the day or something?”

Eddie smiled, grateful. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

“It’s a date.”

Richie ended up following Eddie back to the hotel. After another half hour of dancing, they had ended up in an empty booth. At around 2:30am they’d said goodbye to Richie’s bandmates, and soon after they were stepping out into the cold Los Angeles night.

Holding hands as they walked down the street, they continued their conversation about their current life-situations that they’d had back in the booth. When Richie found out Eddie lived back in Maine, he’d pouted massively, making Eddie giggle.

“I never asked you, how long are you staying for?” Richie asked when they were outside the hotel.

“We leave on Wednesday”, Eddie replied. Their Saturday had just finished three hours ago, and Eddie realized with a crushing devastation that at some point he’d have to leave LA and most likely wouldn’t ever see Richie again.

“Shit”, Richie sulked, dragging a hand through his messy hair.

“Yeah”, Eddie agreed quietly. “Shit.”

“Well, let’s not think about that just yet!” Richie perked up slightly, replacing his frown with a smile. “That’s still, what, four more days?”

“It is”, Eddie laughed.

“Well, that’s four days for us to spend together, and I have the day off tomorrow. I’m already mentally planning all the places I wanna show you!”

Letting go of his disappointment from earlier, Eddie stared up at Richie with a soft gaze, feeling happiness blossom at the knowledge that Richie wanted to spend the next days together with him. “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither.”

They stood looking at each other for a few moments, neither saying anything. But then Richie placed his hand on Eddie’s cheek, and he was leaning down slowly, checking if Eddie was going to pull away as he moved closer. Eddie pushed up on his toes, closing the gap between them, and then they were kissing.

It started gentle, Richie’s bottom lip between Eddie’s. His lips were soft, and their kisses were tender and meaningful, nothing like Eddie had ever felt before.

Richie’s fingers were caressing Eddie’s temple, a gentle touch, his other hand placed on Eddie’s waist and pulling him closer as the kiss got deeper. The tip of Richie’s tongue was poking at Eddie’s lips, and soon they were making out, tongues meeting desperately with every opening of their mouths. Putting his hands on the collar of Richie’s jacket, he tried to pull him even closer, but it was close to impossible at that point, and he opted with pushing his fingers between Richie’s dark locks instead.

As it started getting heated, spit making the kiss slippery, Eddie was starting to reconsider going home with Richie in his mind. His dick twitched in interest when Richie hooked his thumb into the top of Eddie’s pants, the bare skin of his hip being set on fire by Richie’s touch.

But he knew it would be a bad idea (they had all the time in the world (actually only four days, he had to remind himself)) and with that thought he pulled away just enough for their mouths to part before it got too far and he wouldn’t be able to help himself anymore.

“I had a great night”, he whispered, scared that if he spoke too loud it would break the magic they’d created between the two of them.

“Me too”, Richie rubbed his nose against Eddie’s gently. “And now I can’t wait to see you again tomorrow.”

Eddie sighed happily. “Me neither.”

“Drink some water before you go to sleep, alright?”

Eddie huffed out a laugh at that.

“No, I’m serious”, Richie insisted. “You drank a lot tonight, and you’ll feel better if you drink some water before bed.”

Eddie shook his head delightedly, their noses bumping together with the movement. “Alright, I will.”

“Good.”

They parted with a gentle peck on the lips and an exchange of phone numbers, Eddie watching Richie walk away.

A little while later, when Eddie had just gotten under the covers after sneaking in and chugging a glass of water, his phone dinged. He reached for where he’d put it on the floor, quickly turning off the sound in case it was to ding again and wake his Ma.

3:12am From Richie pick u up at 11 tmrw ! xxxxx

3:12am To Richie Looking forward to it! X

3:12am From Richie only 1 kiss? :(

3:12am To Richie You can have all the kisses you want tomorrow xxx

3:13am From Richie cant wait !! n dont bother with breakfast, ive planned a place to eat! :D xx

3:13am To Richie sounds great! xx

3:14am From Richie night my darlin <3 xxxxxxx

He blushed at the pet name, imagining how it would sound if Richie was to call him that in real life.

3:14am To Richie Goodnight Richie, sweet dreams <3 xxxxxxxxxxxx

Quietly giggling to himself, he sent that last message.

3:14am From Richie <3 <3 <3

Eddie fell asleep with a smile.

Taglist: @annoyingtozier, @spastuetheobsessedphylosopher, @constantreaderfool

#lynn writes #my writing #reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #meet-cute #summer romance au #band au #kinda?#reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #it 2017 #it #it fanfic #it fanfiction #i'll be your light

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paradisobound · 5 years

Text

Sail Away With Me

Summary: It was a fluke. Dan shouldn’t have ever gone with Sam to a party on a yacht. He shouldn’t have trusted her to go. But in a chance encounter, he ends up in bed with Phil Lester, a billionaire CEO of a luxury clothing company. When he thinks he’s screwed up enough, he realizes he’s in way too deep. Because Phil Lester has fallen in love with him. The catch: Dan gave Phil a fake name and all Phil has to remember Dan by is the tattoo on his hip and the necklace he left behind.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Brief drug and alcohol mentions and an explicit sex scene

Pairing: Instagraminfluencer!dan and CEO!Phil

This is a chaptered work. Updates every Monday around 1pm EST

**Masterlist | Archive of Our Own | Wattpad**

Dans POV:

It was just after midnight on July 22nd. The stars were shining bright over the Amalfi Coast and Daniel Howell was stood at the railing of a yacht that he didn’t even know existed until two hours before. It’s rocking, a constant back and forth motion that was actually calming for his nerves.

Maybe he was out of place being here. He kind of felt it.

His indie brand swim trunks and last year Gucci shirt was enough to show that he didn’t quite belong in the same scene as the new Versace and Dolce and Gabanna swim suits everyone else was wearing. Even the ones that opted on just wearing the bottoms and not the tops. Dan doesn’t believe he’s seen so many naked females in his life until tonight.

Was this normal?

He wasn’t entirely sure.

He had a drink in his hand that he didn’t even want and the air was kissing his skin just enough to make him feel cold. He found this ironic. How could he be chilly in July in Italy?

Just for that thought, he takes a sip of the drink and winces at the strong taste of coconut and rum. He doesn’t even like coconut. He doesn’t even remember why he grabbed it. He just knew he needed a strong drink to make it through the night if his friend Sam was dragging him to this lavish party.

Speaking of, Dan doesn’t even remember where Sam went. He looks around both sides of his shoulders and takes note of how he doesn’t see his redhead mate standing anywhere near him. She’s probably off making connections with other men—or women. Sam wasn’t picky but yet again, Dan wasn’t really either.

Although, his plans tonight didn’t include fucking some random bloke on a yacht with the hope he might become his sugar daddy. As much as he would love to find a rich guy to pay his way through life, Dan is doing semi-fine with his partnerships on Instagram. Although they’re not paying nearly as much as he needs to help furnish his lavish trips.

The yacht is still slowly moving along the coast and if he looks out, he can see the lights of the houses and hotels blinding him in the distance. He lets out a long sigh, breathes back in the air, and finishes the rest of his cocktail in one gulp, wincing at the taste as it goes down. He’s no longer finished with the empty glass when another server is coming up to him, taking the glass, and giving him a new one.

This drink is peachy colored. He takes a sip and smiles. It takes like mango and melon with a hint of something strong. He much prefers this.

The music is still banging on the yacht and if he looks around, he can see the strobe lights of the boat bouncing every which way. Maybe if his anxiety hadn’t told him he needed fresh air, he would be downstairs with everyone else and maybe he could find Sam before she made some mistake that would surely be on a tabloid tomorrow morning. In fact, he’s sure if he looks on Twitter now, it would be a new moment saying ‘Paumpau Hotel Heiress, Samantha Pamupau seen partying on CEO Phil Lester’s Private Yacht’.

Dan doesn’t even know what Phil Lester looks like. He knows that sounds probably unbelievable but Dan doesn’t pay attention to much news. He doesn’t follow anyone other than top celebrities on Twitter. When Sam mentioned partying on a billionaires yacht, Dan just agreed and purchased his first Gucci shirt that night—ironically the one he is wearing currently.

He jumps just as soon as someone shouts something in Italian in the other direction and then a loud moan follows and fuck he needs a drink again. He takes a long sip and fights the cloudy feelings filling his head.

He reaches up and twists his necklace in his fingers. He always did this when he got anxious. It was just a small chained necklace his grandma had bought for him as a child. He’s had to replace the chain over the course of a few years but he’s never parts with it. It’s a part of every outfit.

Dan steps back from the railing long enough to head back inside the second story of the yacht. It’s not as busy up here, but he does take note of the person sitting on the couch with a bunch of other people, hunched over the table in front of them as they snort up white powder. He just looks the other way and continues on downstairs.

Dan sees Sam in the corner with another female, both of them handsy with each other as they down the rest of there cocktails and he pretends to not notice that Sam’s hand is essentially down the bottoms of the other but he’ll just turn the other way again and walk off.

As he turns, he slams into something and gasps as the cool liquid of his drink splashes against his chest. “Fuck,” he murmurs. This was his good Gucci shirt and now it’s covered in orange liquid. If he wasn’t slightly tipsy, he might have tried to find an unoccupied bathroom to wash it off.

“Are you okay?”

Dan lets out a sigh. He’s sobered up a bit now and he’s suddenly realizing how uncomfortable of a situation he’s probably just put himself into. He’s on a rich guys yacht and he just ran into someone and fucked his shirt up. Not to mention he thinks the glass just shattered on the floor—and yep, it has he confirms in his head as he looks down at the broken glass at his feet.

Of course his luck would run this way. And he didn’t even take any photos from tonight either to post on his Instagram. Go figure.

“I mean, my shirt is ruined,” Dan says, his words a mumble under his breath.

“It was last years anyway,” the man says, his voice a bit high pitched. “I’m sure you can get a new one tomorrow that is from this season.”

Dan just shrugged.

“Do you want help getting cleaned up?” He continued, lending out his hand. “I have a private bathroom this way that you can wash up in. Get the smell of the Peach Bellini from your shirt.”

Oh. It was a Peach Bellini…oops.

So much for the mango and melon he thought he tasted earlier.

“It’s not a problem,” Dan says. “I don’t need to clean it off. It actually looks a bit cooler this way.”

The man lets out a snort and reaches up, running his hand through his hair.

“Such a shame,” the male continues. “My plan didn’t work to get you half-naked.”

Dan looks up from where his hands are trying to smooth out the wet patch on his shirt. He cocks an eyebrow up and looks the man up and down. Sharp pants, fully ironed Versace top, clearly this seasons. Glasses sit prettily on his face that’s a sculpture of sharp, jutted cheekbones.

“Why? Is that something you’d want?” Dan asks, deciding to play along.

The male was beautiful, actually quite breathtaking. He knows he said earlier that he wouldn’t want to sleep with a random bloke but maybe plans change. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t mind crawling into bed with this random bloke.

“Is it something you’d want?” The man asks, reaching out his hand again and touching Dan’s arm with the lightest touch.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Where do we go?” Dan asks, biting his lip with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Follow me.”

Dan follows the man down a small path until they reach a set of doors and Dan swears he doesn’t believe he’s still on a moving boat and he’s not in some penthouse somewhere in London. The male pushes the door open and he’s being lead into a bedroom with beautiful decor and a round bed in the center, covered in pillows and various other decorations.

But it was nearly pitch black. All that he could see or make out was from the light of the windows from the yacht and the moon in the sky hanging over them. When he looks up at the male, all he can see is the reflection of himself and the blue eyes staring back at him.

The man turns Dan and suddenly he’s on the bed on his back and his shirt is being removed and tossed to the floor as their lips connect quickly. It feels real, it feels right. He feels the fire burning under his skin and the itch crawling up his spine.

As the man lowers his shorts and leaves him fully naked, he touches a spot on Dan’s hip and Dan hears him speak softly. “This is the prettiest little tattoo although your skin is much too pretty to be marked up forever.”

Dan forgets about his tattoo most of the time. If he’s being honest, he regrets getting it in a lot of ways. But when he was 18 and a few drinks in, he thought getting a tattoo of a delicate rose on his hip was a great idea.

“I was young.”

“How young?”

“Eighteen.” Dan answers, letting his words get lost against the other males.

“And how old are you now?”

“Twenty five.”

“Still young.”

Dan just chuckled against his lips and connected them again as they got more and more heated.

Maybe in hindsight, this was never Dan’s best decision. He should know better than sleeping with a random man at a party. But when a man this attractive begins to swoop in and steal him over, he can’t help but be ready to spread his legs and let the man do what he wants to.

So that’s what he does.

He moans louder than he should. His breaths get caught in his throat and the male is just so good at this. Good at sex. The way he moves, the way he touches. Dan has never felt so good in his life and he begins to feel a bit addicted to the feeling. He presses all of Dan’s buttons in the best way possible. He’s relentless, his thrusts not stopping in rhythm.

When he climaxes, his whole body feels it. His back arches and his arms go rigid as they grip at the sheets. His mouth opens in a silent moan as it’s caught by the mans expert mouth. When it’s over, the man fucks him a bit longer before pulling out and finishing across Dan’s stomach.

It’s dirty. It’s raw. When it’s over, Dan doesn’t feel as great as he did when it began. Guilt and shame begins to eat away at him at how easy he was to fall into bed with this random stranger who he will never see again.

The man kisses him for a little bit longer than Dan would like but he can’t deny that the sparks aren’t still there. It’s like fireworks are constantly going off above his head and he’s feeling the electricity in his veins.

But then when it’s over, it’s over. And Dan collects his soiled shirt and swim trunks and leaves the bedroom as the man begins to put his own clothes back on. He’ll probably bring another person into the room after Dan leaves and for some reason, that thought leaves Dan feeling a pit of vulnerability in his core.

Just as he’s about to open the door, the man stops him. “What’s your name? I didn’t get it.”

Without even thinking, Dan looks at the man and says. “Ethan.”

Then he opens the door and walks out. Ignoring the pang in his chest that told him it was a mistake giving the man a fake name.

The yacht is docked when he gets out and he manages to find Samantha outside against a railing with another handsy female. He wrenches her away from the girl with an apology and she shoots the girl an apologetic glance as they leave off the yacht and make their way past all of the people staring and getting photos of the party that was still in full bloom.

When they’re safely away from the water and about to get into a cab to head to one of Sam’s many family homes, Sam asks him, “What made you leave so fast? Something happen.”

Dan shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. His shirt was no longer wet but it was definitely stained and it definitely reeked of bad alcohol now.

“I saw you go to bed with Phil Lester.” Sam said, hitting his arm. “Were you not going to tell me this?”

“I didn’t go into bed with Phil Lester,” Dan counters. “I don’t even know who he is.”

Sam turned to him, her eyes comically wide. “You’re yanking my leg.”

“I’m not yanking anything!”

Sam suddenly pulled out her cell phone and unlocked it to do a quick google search of ‘Phil Lester’ and as soon as his photo popped up, Dan’s mouth fell open and he felt like he was going to cry. “Fuck, Sam! I had sex with Phil Lester!”

“You guys fucked?” Sam asked, her vulgarity coming out through her disbelief. “How was he? Was he hung? Was he lame? All the rich guys are normally rigid as fuck.”

“He was bloody amazing,” Dan said. “But that’s not the point. I fucked up Sam.”

“How?” Sam asked. “How could you possibly have fucked this up? You took fucking Phil Lester to bed.”

The taxi pulls up and Sam opens the door to get in but Dan’s words stop her in her tracks.

“I gave him a fake name.”

Sam turns her head, her mouth agape. “You’re a fucking idiot!”

“I didn’t know!” Dan cried. “I didn’t know that’s who he was!”

She slapped his arm and he let out a soft ow as he rubbed where she just hit. “I still don’t understand how you’ve never seen Phil Lester.”

“Because I never paid any attention to him, Sam.” Dan moaned out. “He was never on my list of people to research. He makes clothing that’s too expensive for me to even touch.”

“So even when I told you yesterday we were going to a party on his yacht, you never once googled who he was?” Sam asked, her voice a bit incredulous.

“Being honest, no,” Dan said. “I just… fuck.”

Sam nodded. “I can’t believe you fucked this up.”

Just then, the taxi pulls up. But it’s not really a taxi, it’s a small black cab that Dan knows Sam’s family paid for. The driver gets out and opens the door for them and they get into the back. He reaches up and rubs over his face, down his neck, reaching for his necklace to twist but suddenly, he feels nothing.

“Oh my god, Sam!” Dan cried, sitting up, running his hands all over his chest. “My necklace is gone!”

“Your necklace?” She clarified, looking up from her phone long enough to make eye-contact with him. “The one your grandmother gave you?”

Dan nodded, feeling tears spring to his eyes. This night couldn’t have gone any worse and now he’s about to start crying over the damn necklace that was supposed to be around his neck. Fuck, it must have fallen off somewhere.

“Yeah!” Dan said. “I don’t have it on.”

“Did you take it off somewhere?”

Dan shook his head and the car sped off down the narrow road towards the cliffs. “No,” He whimpered. “I don’t know what happened to it.”

“Did you lose it in his bed?”

Dan leaned his head back against the seat and let out a loud groan because fuck he probably did. It’s probably laying in the middle of Phil’s sheets right now and he’s looking like a fool because of it.

“If you want to try and find it, we can turn back and head back to the party?”

Dan shook his head. “Phil’s probably fucking someone on it right now.”

He knew his words sounded bitter after everything that happened but he felt like he had to be bitter for a moment. It felt like the natural reaction to how his night has went.

“Hey, don’t get like that, hun.” Sam says, putting her phone into her Louis Vuitton fanny pack and comforting him. “I’ll get someone to contact Phil tomorrow and ask for the necklace. It’s not big deal.”

Dan nods and closes his eyes.

It’s not a big deal. He repeats in his head. It’s not a big deal.

#phan #phanfiction #phanfic #fluff #smut #angst #princesslexi763fics #sail away fic

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jmeelee · 5 years

Text

Sterek Bingo 2019 • Theme: Wild Card

Cora’s twenty-first birthday party is in full swing when the vibration of an incoming text jiggles Derek’s right ass cheek. He pulls his phone from the pocket of his too-tight jeans to find a befuddling text: There myst be sumething wrong w my eyes.

Derek’s future does not include being an Alpha, and that’s fine; he’ll happily leave the politics, management, and difficult decision-making to his older sister, Laura. Instead, he’s been training the last few years—learning languages and studying cultures and meeting werewolves all over the world—to become his pack’s liaison. He’s young, but his good name and reputation are already circulating, so he automatically thinks, this must be a young werewolf in need of help. Plus, it’s no secret to the supernatural community that his beta-shifted eyes are blue, instead of gold.

His thumb’s hovering over the touchscreen when a drunk girl bumps into him, her red solo cup full of cheap beer exploding like a water balloon all over the front of his olive-green henley. “Oops,” she slurs, lids drooping over bloodshot blue eyes. She gropes his soaked pectorals with her bare hands.

Derek’s eyebrows berate her before he heads for the staircase. He’s tired of pseudo-babysitting intoxicated college kids anyway.

By the time he’s showered off the stale booze and changed into pajamas, almost an hour has passed. He grabs his phone off the nightstand to finally reply to his cryptic messenger, and finds a new text: i can’t take them off of u.

What the hell? It wasn’t a cry for help at all; it was a lame pick up line. Derek’s mood sours as he imagines Cora egging one of her immature girlfriends into sending him the terrible come-on. The culprit is probably downstairs right now. He swipes over the message, deleting it, and powers off his cell before climbing into bed, pulling a pillow over his head to drown out the noise.

He’s so done with this day.

A week and a half later Derek’s pushing a cart up and down the aisles at the grocery store when his phone chirps. He stares at the flashing number of the unknown contact, wondering why it looks vaguely familiar before he opens the text. Did you invent the airplane? Because you seem Wright for me.

At least there are no typos this time.

He almost deletes the message right away, but the split second he hesitates gives him an excuse to type back. This is clearly Gustave Whitehead erasure and I won’t stand for it.

The return response comes before he can black out his screen. Dude. Are we having our first fight?

Derek doesn’t hesitate this time. Find someone else to annoy.

Rude.

He puts his phone away and staunchly ignores the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He’s already in bed, and would never have heard the vibration except for his supernatural hearing. My name’s Microsoft. How about I crash at your place.

Derek blinks the sleep from his eyes enough to type back, I own a Mac.

In the morning, he sees the response. Harsh dude.

You must be a trumpet because you’re making me horny.

Wow. This is your worst one yet.

Is that a challenge, Derek?

NO!

Did it hurt when you fell from the vending machine? Because you a snack!

Please stop.

“Derek, answer that or I’m going to punch you in the face,” Laura threatens between spoonfuls of cookie-dough ice cream. The harsh buzzing of his phone sounds like a jackhammer to their sensitive werewolf ears, and it’s disrupting their movie marathon.

If you were a transformer, you’d be Optimus Fine. Oh lord.

“What’s with the sappy smile, big brother?” Cora coos.

Derek schools his face into a scowl. “Nothing.”

She throws the blanket off her lap and lunges for the phone in his hand. A tussle ensues. Derek is older and stronger, but she’s fast, sneaky and not above fighting dirty, and she grips the phone before he knows what happened. “What the hell is this?” She’s screeching with laughter, holding his cell out so Laura can look. “Who’s sending you lame pick-up lines?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” he gripes. “You put her up to this.”

Cora furrows her brow. “Uh, what?”

“The night of your birthday party, the first pick-up line came through. It was someone at your party. I figured you put her up to it as a joke.”

She checks the number again. “The only person I ever gave your number to was Erica, for official pack business. This isn’t Erica’s number.” She grabs her cell off the coffee table and punches in the digits. “Well, I’ll be damned.” Cora laughs so hard her eyes water.

“Who is she?” Laura asks.

“Not a she.” Cora holds out her phone with a shit-eating grin so Derek and Laura can read her contacts. “It’s Stiles Stilinski.”

Terse silence follows her declaration. Then Derek asks, “Who the fuck is Stiles?”

6 & 7

“Forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one…” Derek counts out his squats in a whisper, monitoring his form in the full-length mirror. He feels his phone vibrate, and the grin reflecting back at him is disgusting. He should be ashamed.

He gently places the weight back on the rack when he completes the set and digs the phone from his mesh shorts.

Is your phone in your back pocket? Because that ass is calling me!

Derek honestly can’t say what possesses him to turn around, open his camera app, and hold the phone over his left shoulder. Perfect timing ur not following me r u? he writes back, attaching a photo of his butt. A dude doing kettlebell lunges across the gym gives him the stink eye.

Stiles answers with a string of peach emojis, which Derek understands, and a single unicorn emoji, which he doesn’t.

I know who you are, btw. Stiles Stilinski, the sheriff's kid? Cora figured it out

Usually, the response comes immediately, but Derek’s walking out to his car before he receives two simultaneous replies.

Well since the cat (be gr8ful i didn’t say pussy) is out of the bag

my mother used to tell me to follow my dreams so… where will you be tonight?

Derek sits behind the wheel, staring at his phone, weighing the pros and cons. He’s never gone on a blind date before, and he’s been burned, badly, in the past. Being single is sometimes lonely, but at least it’s safe. He doesn’t want to put a defenseless, unwitting human in harm’s way. His brain keeps supplying him with a list of perfectly rational reasons why he should leave their playful correspondence in the sandbox of cyberspace, but his heart furtively whispers what if.

8 & 9

There’s a live band at the bar, guitar player crooning a popular rock ballad while Derek nurses a beer for show. He checks his smartwatch for the seventh time in a span of three minutes and happens to catch the message notification as it pops up.

Do you know CPR? You better learn because ur taking my breath away

He spins around, searching for guys on their phones, frustrated to find almost every man in the bar staring at their screen. A baby-faced guy plops down on the open stool next to him as Derek’s eyes scan the crowd.

“Scott bet me I wouldn’t be able to start a conversation with the most beautiful person in the room.” Derek glances back, startled, to find a generous mouth smiling at him. “What should we do with his money?”

His first thought: HOT. His second thought: young. “Tell me you’re twenty-one,” Derek greets him. “Actually, please tell me you’re legal.”

Stiles dramatically crosses his heart, eyes wide. “I only look seventeen, I promise. It’s a blessing and a curse.” He holds out a sturdy but slender, long-fingered hand. “I’m Stiles. It’s nice to officially meet you.”

Derek takes his outstretched hand in a firm grip and swears he feels a zing when their skin makes contact. It’s official; he’s been single too long. “Derek. Let me buy you a drink, and you can tell me how you got my number in the first place.”

Stiles winks as Derek flags the bartender. “A gentleman never reveals his secrets.��

“Gentleman?” Derek, cold, fresh beer in hand, arches a brow. “Based on some of the texts I’ve received, I’m not sure gentleman is the correct term.”

Stiles clinks his drink against Derek’s. “Touché.” He eyes Derek over the lip of his brown bottle. “So, did you lace your pilsner with wolfsbane, or do you enjoy the taste?”

Derek, mid-sip, spits his beer onto the bartop. “What the hell?” he sputters, mopping at the mess with the world’s least absorbent cocktail napkin.

Stiles calmly takes a sip. “Come on, dude. My father’s the sheriff, and this town is literally a supernatural shit-show. If that wasn’t enough, my best friend is Scott McCall.”

“McCall?” Derek leans closer, soggy napkins forgotten, to whisper, “The True Alpha?” Derek’s met Scott at a few local pack gatherings.

“Yup,” Stiles replies. “He was bitten by a rogue werewolf when we were sixteen. So you could say I’ve been a little-” He makes exaggerated air quotes- “involved in the supernatural scene the past few years.”

Derek leans back, accessing Stiles in a new light: deceptively lean physique, handsome, impish face, the ability to make Derek laugh, and take him by surprise. The laundry list of reasons not to do this quickly goes up in smoke in the face of being able to show his true nature to a partner. Stiles smiles like he knows exactly what Derek is thinking.

“So, what do you say? Do I pass the test? Should we give going on an official first date a shot?”

“One condition,” Derek demands, holding up his index finger. “You’re not allowed to use a single pick up line all night.”

Stiles squawks, tossing long arms into the air. “You might as well ask me not to breathe! Or the Mets not to lose!”

“Chicken?” he asks, leaning into Stiles’ space. Derek quirks a brow and lifts his chin, eyes drawn like a magnet to Stiles’ tongue when it sneaks out to wet his lips.

“Hell no. Challenge accepted. Eight pm Saturday night.” An impish grin. “I’m gonna date you so hard, Hale.”

As far as (official) first dates go, it’s pretty damn amazing. The conversation flows as easily as the wine at dinner, and Stiles’ running jokes and commentary during the shitty movie doesn’t bother Derek at all. He’s thrilled to find their easy banter translates to real life, after weeks of electronic flirtation.

“Hey,” Derek whispers as they say good-night at Stiles’ apartment door. He wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist, pulling him close. He brushes a kiss, feather-light, across Stiles’ mouth and smirks. “Are you a magician? Because when I’m with you, everyone else disappears.”

Stiles leans back, arms still locked around Derek’s shoulders. “What the hell, man! You said no pick-up lines!”

Derek tuts. “I said you couldn’t use any. I never made the same promise.”

Stiles’ eyes narrow. “Serious question?”

“Shoot.”

“Will there be a second date?”

A second, a third, and more, if Derek has any say in the matter. “Absolutely.”

Stiles’ grin is slightly manic as he untangles slim fingers from Derek’s hair. “Well then, there’s probably something I should show you.” He holds up a hand in front of Derek’s face and snaps his fingers. A spark of light fizzles to life before his eyes, emanating from Stiles’ palm, and burning ozone singes the fine hairs inside his nose.

“Huh,” Derek replies, dumbly. “I did not see that coming.”

Stiles’ coy smile ignites something hot inside him. “I have some other party tricks I could show you if you want to come in?”

Derek leans forward again, chasing the bright glimmer of magic between them, the one that’s been there the whole time. “Oh, absolutely.”

——

For @evanesdust and based on THIS PROMPT by @faladrast

#eternalsterek #haleinski #sterekbingo2019 #sterek #sbwildcard3 #sterekbingo

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