#like yeah it's cheesy and some of the translations are a little bad
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Carlos Sainz x Celebrity OC… Part 4.
Okay, I know I said this next chapter was going to be spicy but I don’t know if it fits in with the story so it’s just gonna be some Carlos x Jenna fluff of their first few days and I promise part 5 will be spicy 🌶️🌶️
Again any apologies if I’ve used the wrong name for the OC, I’ve gone through and tried my best to correct any mistakes so hopefully there isn’t any!
No warnings, I’ve tried to make this a fun little chapter with mainly Carlos x OC x Platonic!Charles. Just some badly translated French, Italian and Spanish.
Jenna does her first interview with Carlos since their first date together and things are overtly flirty. The only thing breaking that tension? Charles Leclerc the proud 3rd wheel.
“Good night.” Carlos smiled knowingly as I rested against the hotel room door frame. “I’ll see you on Thursday.” I spoke softly, shyly glancing down to my hands. “You’ll be doing the interview?” He spoke quietly as I nodded back up to the dark haired man.
“Yeah, thank you for tonight anyway, you really didn’t have to pay.”
“I’ve got it all covered.” He shook his head firmly. “Well I owe you.”
“No, never.” He hushed as I giggled slightly. He was adamant all night that I wouldn’t pay, he almost looked offended when I offered to buy a €7 crepe for him. “Okay. I feel bad.”
“I know how you can pay me back.” He borderline giggled as I gazed up to his eyes. He had a shy expression, a childlike amusement spreading in his eyes. “What’re you gonna say?” I let out a soft laugh as he giggled again.
“I can’t, it’s really embarrassing.” He rumbled our laughter, putting a hand on my shoulder. “What? Was it for a kiss or something?” I snickered causing him to snicker harder. “That’s so cheesy!” I teased, nudging his shoulder as he moved closer, cupping either side of my face as I chuckled out before he pressed a quick kiss to my lips. It was a little hard because both of us were laughing and he kept bumping his teeth against mine clumsily.
“Sorry.” He snickered, kissing me more gently as I ran my hand over his bicep, enjoying the feeling of his muscle. He was so toned, he was literally unreal. “You make me laugh.” I commented with a shy smile once we broke apart.
“I hope so.. I’ll see you Thursday, yeah?” He spoke as I nodded, swallowing the urge to let the most excitable screech of laughter that would most likely scare him off. “Okay.” He smiled, eyeing up my lips once more in a manner that made my knees week. With one more lingering kiss we’d parted ways and I’d fainted as soon as I got back into my hotel room.
Not literally, but I wanted to. The heaviest sigh escaped my mouth as I relived his kisses over and over again, swooning at the thought of his plump lips pressed up against my own.
Now there was only two more days until I’d see him again…
————————————————————————
“Hello, I’m back in M-Mon-“ I burst out in uncontrollable laughter as the two men besides me joined in. “I can’t- I can’t! Okay, I’m sorry!” I waved my hands at the camera crew who would crack me up further with their smirks and grimaces to bite back laughter.
“Okay, I’m calm.” I turned over to Carlos who has his hand over his eyes giggling. “Why is this so funny?” Charles then asked, the two Ferrari boys stood at either side of me as I straightened my back, dedicated to getting the introduction right this time.
“Somethings made her nervous… it’s set you off, hasn’t it, Jen?” Lisa asked, making my cheeks warm up. It’s as though she knew. I mean- maybe she did, Anise had a loud mouth when she was drunk. I didn’t blame her.
“Nothing to be nervous of.” Carlos shrugged from besides me, making my cheeks grow even warmer. “Oh- I’m going red, I need- okay, I’ll do it seriously now.” I pushed my blonde hair over my shoulder, clearing my throat and taking a couple deep breaths.
“Hi, I’m with Carlos and Charles-“ Charles burst out laughing from besides me, trying to hold it in as I burst out another giggle, my shoulder grazing against Carlos’. “Charles!” I exclaimed but Lisa ushered me to continue. “Um and we’re back in Monaco- and this interviews a mess I’m sorry- but we’re gonna um…” I covered my mouth from giggling as the two amused boys besides me watched.
“We’re gonna drive a car blindfolded!” Both of them started laughing again as I felt Carlos’ hand rest on my shoulder for support. “Not a real car!” Somebody cleared up from behind the cameras. Poor men were probably fed up of my nonsense. “Not a real car! Anyway- who wants to go first?” I attempted to usher the interview on, despite the fact I was blubbering out bursts of laughter every two seconds. Charles had lost it, he couldn’t even hide his laughter as Carlos jumped forwards.
“I’ll go.” He ran his hand off my shoulder, leaving it feeling slightly cold as I giggled again, nervous from his touch. “Okay, Carlos is going first.” I inhaled again, biting down harshly on my chewing gum when I almost inhaled it. That would not have been a good look.
“Where’s my blind fold?” The Spanish man smiled up to me as I turned to where Lisa threw one over, handing it over as he smiled up to me, before tying the black cloth around, over his eye. “Charles you gotta direct me!” Carlos exclaimed as the other man ensured his eyes were fully covered.
“I will try my best.”
“Ai, ai, ai, this is difficult.” Carlos muttered, feeling for where everything was on the simulator. I guided his hands to the wheel amused as I watched on as the chaos unfolded.
Surprisingly the ‘interview’ went kinda well, it was chaotic but people enjoyed that. I had a good time, and even though I was nervous as hell with Carlos next to me, I’d managed to calm myself down from my giggling fit earlier.
“Make him crash.” Carlos whispered in my ear, cupping his hand as his fingers nudged through the strands of my hair. I didn’t know if it was purposeful or not, but it made my stomach twist with butterflies. “How?” I smiled back to him as he nodded me to follow him, pointing at the wheel as I reached forwards, nudging the wheel further and further to the left.
“Okay, I’m- Carlos where are you?! Why am I turning?!” Charles exclaimed in surprise as the whole simulator began jittering violently before he’d crashed directly into the wall. “Nooo!” He cried out dramatically, Carlos clapping his hands in amusement as I jumped back, acting all innocent.
“What happened?! Why did you crash?” I exclaimed as Charles forced the blindfold off his eyes.
“Carlos you fucker! You turned my wheel!” He jumped up out of the seat as I bit back a laughter. “Wasn’t me!” Carlos snitched as my mouth opened, mocking a gasp as the Spanish man laughed, holding either side of my arms and giving me a quick squeeze.
“It was you?!” Charles was wide eyes. “You are a bad influence on her.” The monegasque playfully shoved Carlos. “Now it’s your turn!” Charles pointed out. “I don’t even drive in real life!” I held out my hands.
“Even better!” Charles responded excitedly. “You don’t have to do it blindfolded.” Carlos exclaimed. “No! That’s not fair!” Charles held out the blindfold, clearly competitive about the whole thing.
“She doesn’t even drive!” Carlos defended as I climbed into the seat, feeling the Spanish man adjust the seat so I was further forwards. “Such a gentleman.” Charles pointed out before plopping the blindfold over my head. “Okay, I’ll use the blindfold but don’t expect me to be even able to start this thing.”
I was just as shit as I thought, first of all I couldn’t even start the damn simulator, then my chair was constantly jittering from something I was doing wrong on the pedals. Who made a simulator this hard in the first place?! Maybe that was a stupid question.
“Keep your foot down! No, no!” Charles screeched out in laughter, snatching the wheel to turn it- I was assuming back on the track. “I don’t know where I’m going.” I worried, yanking the wheel back to where I felt him turn me.
Carlos choked out a laugh. “No pensé que serías tan mala!” (I did not think you’d be this bad!).
“Qué? ¡Soy una mierda!” (What? I’m shit!). I exclaimed back out in Spanish. “Oh my god.” Charles snickered when the simulator lurched forwards and the simulator jittered furious.
“Mamma Mia.” Carlos playfully spoke as I lifted the blindfold back off my face. I had indeed crashed, and I had been going backwards for a good- “7 laps?! I was backwards?!” Both the boys began laughing profusely as I groaned, knowing they’d been messing me around the whole time. “Whatever, I think I was good.” I joked, biting down on my tongue as I jumped out of the simulator.
“Amazing.” Carlos teased back to me as I smiled back up to him. “Thank you!” I attempted to joke along but ruined it with a chuckle.
“Um, anyway, thanks for watching- if anybody made it this far in. This afternoon we’ll be joined with Daniel and Landon to see if McLaren can beat Ferrari’s high score.” I wrapped it all up as Carlos snickered. “You are funny.”
“That was the most fun I have had in one of these in a while.” Charles admitted as I secretly was super happy about the admission. There’s nothing worse than boring interviews that these drivers already had too many of to do.
Thankfully, we’d all have a break from the filming, I didn’t mind, I was having great fun, I couldn’t lie. It was fun to do something different other than just asking things all day. I was looking over the table of endless amounts of food, eyeing up what looked to be blackberry seeds piled on top of some kind of cracker.
“It’s caviar.” A familiar voice spoke as mg hand immediately yanked away from the food. “Ew.” I accidentally spoke before looking up and seeing Carlos besides me. “Where did you come from?” I smiled, biting down on my lip as he carried a plate full of the most food I’d ever seen.
“From the interview.” He spoke like it was obvious. “Holy shit, that’s a mountain of food!” I eyed him back up as he flashed me a toothy smile.
“I’m a hungry man, after this my diet starts again.”
“Fuck dieting.” I shrugged. “You never diet?” A
“Nuh uh, I don’t have the self control.”
“How do you look so good then?” He flirted as I turned back up to him with a perked brow. “I am being serious?!”
“I just… I don’t know.” I blushed, completely forgetting I was walking to put food on my plate. I was too caught up with being in Carlos’ Vinci it’s.
“You’re red now.” He pointed out. “Oh, Carlos don’t!” I laughed. “I’m sorry, will you come sit with me? Charles is there as well, he’s lonely.” I turned over my shoulder to see Charles eating alone like a lost school boy.
“Poor guy.” I giggled before looking up to Carlos again. “We best join him…”
I’d been sat with them for a couple of minutes, swinging my legs nervously when I accidentally caught Carlos’ with my own. “Sorry.” I turned to see him smirking. “It’s okay.” He shook his head and continued eating as I joined back in the conversation with Charles.
“-sorry, and then she never ended up coming, so.. now it’s just me.” I shrugged, “do you enjoy it? Like the racing in general?” Charles asked. Just as I was about to answer I felt the nudge from a foot under the table once again that almost made me choke on my food.
“Mmmh!” I perked, knowing it was Carlos’ foot that had nudged against my own in a playful manner. “I didn’t when I was little, I have to admit I was forced by my brothers to watch it. But no I do, I have for quite a while.” Carlos let out a laugh at my words, as though he was being soo casual and definitely not playing footsies with me under the table.
“Was it karting you used to do?” I then asked Charles, purposefully nudging my foot back into Carlos’s as he kicked back almost instantly. This time I jumped, reacting physically to the kick under the table. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean it to be that hard.” Carlos quickly put a hand on my arm.
“What are you doing? Playing footsies under there?!” Charles burst out in laughter. “No, he kicked me!” I lied. “Purposefully.” Carlos teased, biting back down into a burger.
“Jésus, je suis en troisième roue...” (Jesus I am third wheeling). My eyebrow perked back up to Charles.
“Je peux aussi parler français, tu sais.” (I can speak French too, you know). His eyes widened in surprise. “Really?!” Charles eyes landed on Carlos. “Sposala.” (Marry her).
“Anche italiano Charles.” (Italian too, Charles).
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20 Questions For Writers
Didn’t actually get tagged on this, but it looked like a fun one. 🤣
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
AO3 says I have 24. Huh.
2. What is your total AO3 word count?
288,626 since I started in 2021, which seemed like a lot to me until I realized 179,551 of those belong to the second thing I ever wrote, a massive 4 part series covering from Rio’s resurrection to their inevitable HEA.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Veronica Mars brought me to AO3. The Punisher (Kastle) made me think for the first time about writing prompts, but it was the Good Girls (Brio) fandom that finally got me to put the proverbial pen to paper.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
1. Even If It Hurts (Part 3 of Walk Through The Fire series)
2. Sanctuary (Part 2 of Walk Through The Fire series)
3. Get Your House In Order (Part 1 of Walk Through The Fire series)
4. By My Side (Part 4 of Walk Through The Fire series)
5. What Would Elizabeth Do?
5. Do you respond to comments?
Yes! I try to, at least. Sorry if I’ve missed any, sometimes I lose track of the notification emails.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Ooh, definitely Enemy of My Enemy. Hardest fic for me to finish. Not fluffy. No HEA. Rio is aaaaaangry.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Hmm… there’s a lot to choose from cause I looooove a soft, fluffy Brio. If you can slog through the 4 part series, it covers the most ground, ending years after the show. It’s loosely based on canon to start, but veers off.
8. Do you get hate on your fics?
Hmm… Not really. Luckily just one I can think of. A vague accusation that all my ideas were suspiciously like a lot of other ones on AO3… except those other writers did it way better. 🤷🏻♀️ I blocked them and figured if anything, it meant I’d finally “made it”. 😂
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I try to. I aim for the kind I think people will enjoy reading, but I often alternate between worrying it’s either a little too cheesy, or over the top.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
I don’t, but I would never say never. There are some I would *love* for other people to write, though. Karen Page (Punisher) and Steve Rogers (Captain America)… Intrepid reporter interviews national hero after the Battle of New York. Neither are looking for anything, but sparks fly. Anyone? Anyone??? 🤣
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I don’t think so?
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
No, but wouldn’t it be awesome if AO3 had a button that would do that automatically?
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Again, no. I won’t say it would never happen, but I’m a bit of a lone wolf writer. Strict deadlines, etc are tough for me, so I think I’d find a co-writing situation very stressful.
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
It has to be Brio. 🥰
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
This is a tough one. I don’t tend to release fics until they’re finished, so I don’t have any orphaned stories out there crying out for a happy ending. I do have a dozen or so ideas that are in various stages of completion. Some are almost done(ish), so I suspect the ones that are less likely to get finished are the ones that are literally a sentence fragment… barely a complete idea. I mean, they’re great random scattered thoughts, but… Yeah.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I’ve been told my Brio characterizations are good.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Hmmm… Dialogue and smut. My descriptions aren’t bad, but my writing style isn’t as “flowy” as I’d sometimes like.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I’m not bilingual, so if I include another language in a fic I tend to keep it fairly short and straightforward to lessen the chance of getting it wrong.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Good Girls. First and only.
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
I don’t mind rereading (most of) my own stuff. I have a special soft spot for ones where Brio interacts with the kids, like Smarter Than Your Average Gang Friend (Rio gets shown up by the Jane), and In Sickness (Jane’s sick and Rio shows Beth an uncharacteristic kindness).
Not tagging anyone in particular. Please, jump in!
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What are your gripes with the Slow Damage translation? I thought it was pretty great.
hi anon! tbh i used to have the same view as you probably do, the translation like by itself isn't terrible, it gets the point across and i still enjoyed the game regardless.
but then i found out about the jp version and realized that they kinda gave towa some out of character lines? its more of the translation choices that the fandom has a problem with. a lot of unserious lines were added and i feel like part of it was focused on giving it some funny moments instead of staying true to the source material
there are a lot of people that can articulate the problems better than i can but just to give you a rundown:
-changed the game from third person to first person apparently? i briefly heard about this so i dont have anything ready to back this up with but
-the usage of crude unsexy words like "half chub" "buttslut" "eyepussy" which is just. LMAO it honestly depends on your preference with sexy/dirty talk
-"sounds gay" at the end of fujiedas route. in the time i found it funny (which is why i have the pic rn, bc i took a screenshot when i played) but when you really think about it after such a long impactful lore filled route its like maybe i dont think its that appropriate to put in a little joke like this here? i think the original was along the lines of "sounds cheesy" or something like that since towa wasnt used to romantic affectionate stuff, and i lowkey just feel like hewouldnotfuckingsaythat.jpg
-"hasta la vista" when Taku shoots toono near the end of his route lol. he didnt rly say that but i assume it was added for localization purposes
-basically a lot of translation/localization choices that give off pretty different tones compared to the original that not a lot of people liked
this is just me giving you the main complaints about it that go around. personally i still lean more towards neutral, i dont think its THAT bad and it didnt ruin my experience at all but once you think about it a bit more its just like yeah maybe that line was a bit out of place and doesnt fit towa's character. maybe the wording used there didnt convey the same message that the jp version did, and made it a little hard to take serious. but at the end of the day if you liked it then thats fine as well! im just telling you the main problems the fandom has with it if you didnt know already
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A lot of pressure
Casey Gardner x Fem!/Pronouns Reader
Words: 1,417
Summary: Casey goes to your house and she notices the unusual machine in your living room, so you teach her to use it. And maybe tease her a little.
A.N:Use of Y/N! Second person! I'm not an english native speaker so I support on translators!--It's been a while since i saw Atypical so I hope this is not ooc o_0
For a long time Casey had suggested going to your house or having you go to hers, but no matter how much you talked about it, there never seemed to be time or availability to plan it. In the physics class, the only one in which both were together, she returned to the subject, sitting next to you, taking advantage of the time you both had to solve some exercises.
–-Hey, Y/N-- she said on the air, without taking your eyes off the notebook you responded with a small sound to make it known that you were listening to her --When will I go to your house?-- she said so sure that it was difficult for you not to arch your eyebrows
–-I did not know that you were invited-- at this moment it was when you moved your eyes to Casey who with an unrepressed smile leaned to your direction. Grabbing a pencil, she made as if she had just been stabbed --what kind of betrayal did you just give me, oh my dearest Y/N? How could you?-- You removed the pencil and following her game you moved the pencil, seeing it delicately --what betrayal have I committed if the ignorance of my being denies me the right to greater knowledge than I, oh dear, beloved and gracefully lady Casey?--.
--Okay, that was cheesy-- she admitted and went back to her previous position --Yeah, that was cringe-- you thought. --But I’m serious, since it seems like you going to mine is like asking for a miracle--. For a few minutes, both of you focused on your work until she was done --So?-- --What?-- she turned her eyes with her limbs loose --About your house-- without answering the question you stood up and went to the teacher to check that the exercises were well solved, seconds later you saw how your girlfriend did the same, already sitting and passing between the sheets of the notebook you thought for a while until you had her back at your side --How about Friday at 4:00? I will make sure the food is to your liking, your highness-- you bowed over exaggerating a reverence, which Casey replied --I would expect no less from you-- --can we know what the reason for your game is, ladies?-- The teacher interrupted while he stopped to write, the others watching you but none spoke, without saying anything else the man turned his attention to the whiteboard and the students to their individual activities --At 4:00 then-- whispered and you agreed, after that the class continued without anything else to mention.
Casey watched as much as she could from the living room, it was really pretty, very different from hers, there were many decorations but not too many to saturate the view or look bad and they matched very well with the color of the walls and furniture, as she moved her eyes she noticed the machine that was in the opposite corner of the door -- what is that?-- Putting the things of both in place you asked what she meant, she pointed it and turning in the direction you saw towards the corner --Ah, it’s my sewing machine, well, not mine but I’m the one who uses it the most-- she walks until she gets there and be in front of, examining it --it’s not like others I’ve seen-- and with things in the right place you accompanied her while she kept looking at the machine --not since it’s industrial, do you want to use it?--The question was very sudden for Casey, who was slow to give you an answer but very excited-- Of course-- a smile formed on your lips because of her attitude. Your mother called you to sit down and eat so that would have to wait, --What will we eat?-- --Lasagna-- on your way to the table after washing your hands you kept talking --I think it’s an excellent option-- your mother was already sitting and handing out the dishes --the only option-- you said --very well, it is better that we eat now-- said your mother, you all had a piece of lasagna and another plate with salad and started eating talking about other things.
–And that’s how you thread it– you finished explaining the main thing, sitting in an individual chair and Casey in another --it’s hard to memorize-- she admitted, she never really thought it would be complicated but she was wrong --at first but then it’s like walking-- settling in better you gave her a few papers with stripes --Since you had never used one it is better to start sewing on sheets-- you turned on the machine and made sure that everything was in place --go pressing the pedal slowly, I don’t want to have your dad here trying to find a finger all over the living room-- with a funny and nervous smile she arranged the sheet by lifting the presser foot manually --you can do it with your knee-- you reminded her and she did --don’t worry, I learn fast-- she moved the knee making the knee brace do it equally and the presser foot rise up, and well placed as she retracted the knee and the presser foot lowered, with parallel hands began to lower the foot, at a certain height the machine began to work giving its stitches at a semi-fast speed, by reflex she stopped --Wow, you didn’t joke that is fast-- you deadpanned for a moment but when you saw the line where she had sewn you almost laugh --what’s funny?-- , ..Nothing, nothing-- Changing the subject you concentrated on reminding her of the pressure with which the pedal should be lowered and the one to let “the fabric” flow through the crab --Very well, I understand, but this is my first day-- she stood up and stretched her arms --then there is no pay-- her mouth and eyes opened, standing from the chair you heard --I didn’t know you were that kind of person-- going into the kitchen and filling a glass with water you returned to where Casey was --if well, the contract says so -- both sat at the same time --damn little letters --she sighed --I guess I won't be paid for long-- you delicately placed your head on Casey's shoulder --Don't worry, I'll talk to the boss-- she put her head on yours, --That's very sweet of you--.
--Well, let’s go on-- you restored your posture, grabbed more leaves, and made various shapes meanwhile Casey finished up withthe straight lines. When finished, she gave them to you to do a “quality check”, --they are quite good to be your first pages-- leaving them aside you gave her the new ones with a small smile, --this is taking advantage-- she take them by flipping through them --how am I supposed to make a spiral?-- You raised your shoulders but you didn’t respond, she sighed again but heavier, with a movement of your arm against hers you asked --do you want to pay?-- -- Of course-- she said without much trouble --then end a spiral and you will have your pay --, --You are evil-- she connected your foreheads seeing eachother, --but you love me-- you whispered as if it were a secret to everyone except you, --Yes, I love you-- slowly she closed the space between you, joining your lips, enjoying the moment. But Casey who was still with a foot on the pedal pressed it and the machine started, getting you both scared, you cleared your throat --I should go for the pay -- you stood back going to the kitchen to look for the food -- ok--.
For several hours Casey continued practicing, from time to time you taking turns to teach her more visually, at 7:00 you said goodbye at the main entrance.
--Thank you for everything -- you spoke first, the somewhat cold weather that made little clouds when talking --it’s me who should thank you Y/N, The next one will be in my house-- her eyes fixed on yours seemed so full of adoration that if you asked her to stop calling Casey she would do her best to fulfill your wish --Maybe I can teach you something-- she continued --like what?-- she stretched her arms and surrounded you with them and as before she leaned down until kissing you again, taking her time, your hands squeezing her arms and accepting it, until she pulled away --whatever you want--.
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Eurovision 2024 first impressions
Wasn't sure what to listen to at work, and then I remembered that all the Eurovision songs have now been released! So I thought I'd give 'em a listen.
Until today, I'd heard small clips of the songs in Youtube top 36 lists. That was it.
Caveat 1: I've paid zero attention to any of the national finals, so I'm blissfully ignorant of 90% of whatever drama happened in those.
Caveat 2: Everything below is the personal subjective opinion of me, a knobhead on Tumblr. You will probably disagree with a lot of it and that's fine.
Caveat 3: "Why are you not boycotting when Israel are-" Yes, I know. I do follow the news. I'm not going to go into why I'm not boycotting because that's not what this post is for, but I promise I have thought about it and can explain my reasons.
So, with that out of the way:
Croatia: Strong start! I really like this, and get why it's one of the favourites! I might be on Team Croatia this year- I'd love the winner to be someone who hasn't won before, or hasn't won for decades!
Netherlands: It's... alright, I guess? But I'm not sure it's as funny as it thinks it is, and might get a bit old fairly quickly.
Switzerland: This is interesting, and a nice break from their pattern of the past few years. I'll be happy if this does well :)
Italy: I like this better than I thought I would, based on the little clips I've seen. Still a bit confused about why it seems to be topping literally all the Youtube rankings, though.
Austria: Meh
Sweden: This is the ONE song I couldn't make it all the way through. I, yeah, sorry, I hate it. Sounds AI generated. Sweden, please, you have good music, I know you do, I've heard it, you don't need to send this kind of crap every other year, please!
Ukraine: Ukraine my beloved, always understanding the assignment <3
Greece: Way more interesting than the clip I'd heard previously made it sound!
Germany: This is exactly what I was afraid would happen if LotL didn't do well. I'm getting flashbacks to Michael Rice and his 2019 last place.
Belgium: Meh
Cyprus: Extremely Meh. This is like a composite of every bland, inoffensive, radio 1 song ever.
France: It's a nice ballad. 'For the Mum's, I think is the phrase. S'fine.
UK: Apparently 'obnoxious ear worms' is my country's new schtick. Although like Italy, I do like this a bit more than I thought I would. Also starting to notice a lot of the songs sounding a bit 80's-lite?
Georgia: S'fine, I guess. 50/50 as to whether it breaks their NQ streak.
Malta: Wow, there are a lot of trendy girl pop songs that I have absolutely no feelings about this year.
Armenia: This is enjoyable and I respect it.
Azerbaijan: Another Whelming-to-decent one, but I do like that they're singing in their own language for the first time!
Albania: Snore
Australia: I get what they were going for, but I find this a bit cheesy.
Ireland: Look at Ireland taking a risk! I so, so, hope this works out for them and breaks their NQ streak! I am slightly concerned, just because this is the kind of experimental that can be difficult to translate to a three minute stage performance, but if they give it the creativity it needs it could be their best entry in years!
Lithuania: A nice little catchy thing. Quite like it.
Denmark: Oof, Denmark really are in their wilderness years, aren't they? Look, this isn't bad, but there are a lot of songs that sound similar to this, and this has 'lost in the shuffle' written all over it.
Poland: There's nothing about this that makes it stand out from all the other trendy-girl-pop-songs objectively, but I do have a soft spot for this one.
Spain: This is really cute! I think I've found my favourite Big 5 :)
Czechia: Oh look, we have some pop-punk this year. Cool.
Serbia: I'm... not feeling much for this *now*, but I think it might grow on me once I've heard it a few times.
Finland: I am CACKLING
Portugal: I'm a bit undecided about this, tbh. Might have to see how it is live.
Norway: I knew I'd quite like this, and I do! I feel like the live performance is really going to make or break it though.
Luxembourg: So I've heard this song is *also* Israeli propaganda, and if that's true, a) that sucks, because Luxembourg, mate, this is your re-entry, you didn't want this, and b) it's disconcertingly cheerful.
Estonia: Whatever this is, it has no business going this hard.
San Marino: Another pop-punk. I'm a bit more intrigued by this one than the Czech one. I can't see it doing amazingly, but if the performance is good it could get San Marino a rare Q.
Slovenia: It's OK. Seemed like it was going somewhere and then... didn't.
Israel: Was debating whether to ignore this (and sit there wondering about it), or give in and listen to it once so I could stop caring. Went for the latter. You'll be relieved to know it's bland as shit. The inevitable background booing might even be an improvement.
Iceland: I didn't get Hera Bjork in 2010 and I don't get her now.
Latvia: I really want Latvia to break their NQ streak, especially with how they were basically robbed by the semi draw last year, but this just... needs to be more than it is. A really good live performance could save it, maybe? I don't know. I wanted to like this but I'm not hopeful.
Moldova: Slovenia Two. Another one that was sort of going somewhere for a minute, and then stopped.
In conclusion:
So much Eurodance
So much 80's
Loooads of really similar songs. More than usual. Some of them are inevitably going to cancel each other out.
The "everyone follows the runner ups of the previous year" trend seems to be holding, with lots of similar-vein-as-Noa-Kirels, and a few similar-vein-as-Kaarijas.
This is definitely a year that's less my cup of tea. That's OK. I was spoilt last year. And there are still some solid entries.
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Turn Rivers Into Reservoirs
Summary:
"So how’d you get here from there?” “It’s kind of a long story,” Obi-wan hedges. Silas just gives him a look, pulls out two more bottles of tihaar, and starts pouring a fresh round.
[This is a direct sequel to This Abjured Land of Bliss and may not make sense without that context.]
All Hallows JangObi Week Day 7: Celebrations
Under the cut for length. Also on AO3. Mando'a is in-line translated here, hovertext enabled on AO3.
They’re well on their way back to Manda'yaim [Mandalore], leaving the mess on the unnamed moon to the Jedi and their Shadows, when Jaster invites Jango and Obi-wan to have dinner with his council. They take over the ship’s command centre rather than eating in the mess, covering the low holotable so as to not damage the surface and settling on the small couches and soft chairs that ring it. Jango is more relaxed around others, now, confident in his knowledge of the galaxy since he and Obi-wan had the chance to sort through his returning memories while they were visiting the AgriCorps Chapter House.
The food is good, hearty and filling, and accompanied by thick, black beer and a sweet, fizzy fruit drink Obi-wan had picked up on Garqi. Once they’re sated and Obi-wan has made sure his apprentice is settled in their berth for the night cycle, Jaster hauls out a bottle of some stronger spirits and pours them all a round. The conversation mostly sticks to lighter topics, but invariably it turns towards the years that both Obi-wan and Jango had been gone and, of course, curiosity over their lives on the other side.
Kuuran is the one to actually bring it up, gesturing at the pair of them tucked together on one of the couches. “We got most of Jango’s version already, but not yours, Ob’ika. So how’d you get here from there?”
Obi-wan groans, debating the merits of just physically hiding behind Jango as the man’s family leans forward in interest. Unfortunately, Jango looks like he wants to hear the answer also, so he’ll be no help.
“It’s kind of a long story,” he hedges.
Silas just gives him a look, pulls out two more bottles of tihaar, and starts pouring a fresh round. Obi-wan sighs deeply enough to make Jango chuckle and jostle him with an elbow. Jaster watches them both indulgently and Obi-wan feels a flash of guilt that he and Jango haven’t actually gotten around to telling the Mand'alor [Sole leader] yet that they’re going to get married. He downs his shot and fidgets with the glass, wondering where to start.
“We both ended up in the military over there, which is where we met. We were in the same unit and it was near the end of the cycle. We’d been sent out on patrol but it wasn’t supposed to be dangerous. No one expected any actual contact, though we were, of course, all ready for it if it happened.”
“So of course trouble found you,” Cazne sighs, wiggling his fingers at Obi-wan until he passes over his cup. The twi’lek pours an extra generous measure before handing it back.
“Yes,” Obi-wan agrees, pressing a little further into Jango’s side as he accepts the new drink. “Without going into too much detail, we were captured and the rest of the unit was killed. They had us for…”
“Months,” Jango interrupts roughly.
“Yeah. It wasn’t a vacation, that’s for sure,” Obi-wan laughs unhappily. “But neither of us gave them whatever it was they wanted, and one day they did something new.”
“New?” Tr’sush hums through their vocoder.
“Ah… different from their usual, yeah. They took me down some new hallway; it just felt different, even if I couldn’t see it, you know?” He takes a sip of tihaar, checking on Jango out of the corner of his eye as he savours the light, fruity flavour over the potent burn of the alcohol. “They brought me out into a courtyard and, uh, well. It looked like something out of a bad horror holofilm, to be honest.”
He gestures loosely, nose scrunching as he tries to find the words to describe just how cheesy the whole setup had looked. “There was this big ritual circle? Drawn on the ground in paint, I think, and a weird altar thing at one side like some zerek-grade interpretation of an old Sith ritual. There were also candles everywhere. Why they needed lit candles in the middle of the day, I don’t know. Certainly didn’t add to the ambiance.”
He knows he sounds like he doesn’t quite believe what was there, but it really was just that weird to see. Out of place with the rest of the filthy stone bunker they’d been kept in. Cazne and Silas both crack a laugh, and he can see Jaster and Kuuran hiding smiles as well. Tr’sush tilts their helmet just enough that Obi-wan knows they’re also deeply amused. He takes another drink, waiting until the room settles again.
“So, how did the bad holofilm set get you to us?” Kuuran prompts with a smile.
Obi-wan scrubs a hand through his hair, looking rather embarrassed. “Well, they wanted to sacrifice me, I think, but I had the shiv Jango gave me and I stabbed one of them before they could stab me, and it activated the circle. I landed just outside the Mand'alor [Sole leader]’s camp right as they were being approached by a group of jedi.”
Jaster scoffs, shaking his head good-naturedly and pouring himself another shot. “Pretty sure you gave no few people on that field heart attacks with your appearance, Ob’ika, myself included.”
Obi-wan flushes, glancing at Jango beside him. “Yes, well… they wanted to soften me up before they--”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Silas waves his hands, cutting Obi-wan off. “He gave you a weapon?”
Jango raises an unimpressed eyebrow at them over the glass of tihaar he’s nursing and answers for the jedi. “Elek [Yes].”
“That you made?” Kuuran clarifies, leaning forward intently, interest and mischief warring in her expression. “While you guys were prisoners?”
“Elek [Yes],” Jango drawls again, daring anyone to challenge the claim.
“And you killed at least one person with it?” Silas jumps back in, turning to Obi-wan who is looking between them all, not quite sure where this line of questioning is leading.
“Yes?” He doesn’t mean to sound hesitant, but this feels significant and he seems to be the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on.
“Oh, that’s so romantic,” Cazne coos dreamily, looking like he might be blinking back tears.
Jango doesn’t look surprised when the jedi turns to him with furrowed brows. He gives a smirk and blatantly runs his gaze appreciatively over Obi-wan’s body, just to watch the blush stain his cheeks again.
“Do you still have it?” Tr’sush asks before he can get any more flustered.
There’s a loaded silence, everyone staring at Obi-wan in curiosity and Obi-wan staring back blankly. Ever so slowly, he twists his wrist, careful not to spill his drink, and pulls a thin blade from the folds of his arm wraps. It’s nothing special - it was a prison shiv, so of course it wouldn’t be that fancy - but the blade is both curved and tapered and the semi-shaped handle is wrapped neatly in sturdy fabric. Jango shifts forward to inspect it and nods in satisfaction at seeing it well cared for. Silas whistles low as he, too, leans in for a look.
Jaster barks out a laugh and downs his shot. “Congratulations on your engagement, then, and welcome to the family, Ob’ika.”
Obi-wan nearly drops the knife at that. “What?”
Silas starts chuckling again, but Cazne nods seriously even as his lekku twitch with amusement. “Like, I said, it’s very romantic. He gave you a weapon and you used it in defence of both yourself and your future. If you hadn’t fallen through that portal, you would have used the knife to get back to Jango and break yourselves out, right?”
“I probably would have picked up at least one of their guns,” Obi-wan clarifies slowly, watching Jango in his peripheral vision again. “But yes, the end goal was to get us both free and back to base.”
“Traditionally, there is a full exchange,” Tr’sush explained further. “So far, Jango has only proposed, but you have not necessarily accepted.”
“For that, I would offer a weapon in return?” Obi-wan hums, considering.
Kuuran gently waves off his concern. “Or a culturally appropriate equivalent, since you aren’t mando’ade [mandalorian].”
Obi-wan relaxes at that, sparking curiosity all around. Jaster pauses with his glass half-raised and watches them both with weary amusement. “Wayii [Good grief]… did Jan’ika actually propose second?”
“Depends on how you look at it,” the jedi smiles slyly, grinning wider when Jango lets out a noise of protest. “The custom over there, in the places we thought we were from, was to exchange rings. Once for the engagement, and again for the marriage. I had a set waiting for us at base and was going to ask after that last patrol.”
“Only because Supply liked you better,” Jango grumbles goodnaturedly.
Obi-wan pats his knee with mock sympathy, not protesting at all when Jango captures his hand to twine their fingers together. “But no,” he continues, expression softening, “Jango got his proposal in first by the customs of this side.”
“But you have asked, haven’t you,” Jaster observes shrewdly.
It’s Jango’s turn to smirk, but he doesn’t keep them in suspense for long. From his pocket he pulls a coil of thin, braided cord - brilliant blue, deep green, and faintly shimmering white - knotted and capped with a carved bone spike on each end.
“I had the bone already,” Obi-wan explains, reaching over to run a finger along one of the spikes. “Traditionally, it should come from your last kill, but I’m pretty sure she ended up in a sarlacc, so these are juvenile scyk fangs that I was gifted by my apprentice’s tribe, instead. The cords I picked up on Garqi, since I wasn’t exactly carrying the proper supplies around on a whim.”
There are a few snorts of agreement; Jaster stands, circling the holotable to give them both a soft, heartfelt kov’nyn [forehead press]. Silas pours everyone a fresh shot, raising it in salute. “We’ll have a proper celebration when we get back to Keldabe but, for now, oya [cheers]!”
“Oya [Cheers]!”
Kuuran slaps Jaster on his shoulder as he settles back in his seat. “See! You’re gonna get Ob’ika for a kid anyway! You could’ve let one of us try and adopt him before.”
Obi-wan groans and buries his face in his hands as Jango perks up beside him. “How many offers did he get?”
“None,” Tr’sush huffs, exasperation audible even through the vocoder. “Mand'alor [Sole leader] staked a claim and never followed through.”
“I was letting him get comfortable with us before just springing it on him!” Jaster protests. “It’s not my fault he left before I could!”
Cazne leans towards the couple on the couch as the others settle into a good-natured argument. “We still have your beskar’gam [mandalorian armour], Ob’ika,” he murmurs conspiratorially. “Maybe now you’ll wear it for longer than a few hours at a time, hm?”
“Ben, you have armour already and didn’t tell me?” Jango raises his eyebrows, giving Obi-wan another flirtatiously assessing look.
“I didn’t think they’d kept it,” he answers with a frown. “I did leave quite abruptly."
“Mm,” Jango hums sceptically, wrapping his arm around Obi-wan as Cazne politely turns his attention back to the ongoing debate, breaking in to needle whichever of them seems to be winning in the moment. “Well, I’m afraid I’m going to be on their side about you wearing it.”
“I’ve already heard all of their reasons and countered them,” Obi-wan huffs in return, even as he curls into the hold and settles his head on Jango’s shoulder. “But perhaps, for you, I can be persuaded.”
Jango laughs under his breath, pressing a swift kiss to Obi-wan’s temple before they settle back to watch their family cheerfully bicker amongst themselves, contentment woven around them like a warm blanket.
#star wars#all hallows jangobi 2022#jango fett#obi wan kenobi#jangobi#day 7: celebrations#fanfic#this abjured land of bliss
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Edit: whoops long post warning
About the one piece live action trailer:
...not sure about the wigs? Nami's is looking a little eh to me and I can't tell if Sanji has one too or if that's actual grown hair (I think the actor said he did grow it out??). Zoro still having green hair is also a bit of a surprise but I guess it's too much of trademark to get rid of. Overall they seem to be trying to stay faithful to character's looks
On the other hand, not missing Usopp's nose and Sanji's eyebrows because those would be trickier to translate well into live action
Buggy looking creepy af but ok (his wig is also kinda eh but it's less so because he's a damn clown anyway)
Did we notice Coby when Luffy throws the punch at the end? Blink and you miss it but coby's there, bless him. All he does is take a step back but it's such an early-on Coby move (...seems to not have the pink hair tho??)(actually is coby gonna go by he/him like the original or are we going they/them like the actor? Either is fine with me)
Not expecting the attack names either but alright. Or maybe it's just luffy
Seems the crew getting together might be a little different? "Not a crew"... don't know how I feel about that. Trying to keep in mind it's just a different adaptation
Merry might be there from the beginning?? It seemed like it was being built at luffy's island but that could be just an impression from the editing (not sure they would mess with something that gets relevant later but not sure there will be more seasons either at this point)
The cgi is. Could be better, could be worse. The sea monster has that floaty cgi feeling I don't particularly like but probably shouldn't have expected otherwise
The stretched arm is uhh. Not too good tho, as well as the dark (marine?) ship firing. Maybe I can ignore it in the series as I get used
On that note sometimes it looks too green-screeny, but it's kind of on par with the average tv show. I can also take it in a whimsical way tho, and what is real sets helps balance it out (to be honest I quite like what we can see of the real sets)
Overall it's... Alright probably (even if my points above seem like nagging. Promise I'm not). The feeling is there, a little different but there. Probably gonna be kinda cheesy because one piece is not a good candidate for a live action adaptation in the first place, like everyone and their grandmother has known their whole lives, but they seem to be embracing it anyway. I'm getting used already
Cast and real ships have been known for a long time so no complaints there (VERY important the ships being mostly real to balance cgi and contribute to whimsicality like I said above.)
Yeah I feel better now that the trailer is out and we have a better idea of what it's looking like. I am relieved, to be honest. It could have been SUCH a shit show jesus christ
I'm rewatching so many times to digest it and WAIT WHERE'S LUFFYS SCAR
nevermind it's there, just kinda hard to see. Could be my screen even. Or it's so prominent in the anime/manga because it's in black there and the more realistic look is discreet in comparison
The Baratie has a neon sign lmao what a curveball
Sanji kick-stomp while holding a plate looks great, love it
Zoro's fights are looking intense as well
Not much of Usopp now that I think about it?? Where's my boy. Give him some lines (Sanji doesn't have any either but he had more clips doing stuff)
Yeah the trailer itself is good, I think. Still a little tense about the supposed trash screening test
Luffy's clothes before the first look at the classic costume, the hawaiian shirt and what's the name in English, jumper? Onesie?? Also unexpected, but the shirt specially is such a one piece touch. The other one is... Cute? Can't really see Luffy wearing that but alright
Feels... yeah, feels good, adventurous in a fun one piece way. The music and editing fit well I think. Even if the series turns out bad I'll have a special feeling for this trailer, sue me
Alright that's enough for now, I've been on this too long already
I lied
Still in doubt on how well it can be received by new watchers who aren't familiar with the source material. We don't have enough info yet, the trailer makes it seem like it could be accessible but could end up not being so (trying not to think of the supposed trash screening test again help).
Alright now I'm done
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Genuine question but like, do u have any general Protectobots headcanons u wanna talk about? I just never see anything w them for the most part /gen
Yeah! The reason you don’t see them much is they REALLY do not get a chance to shine in any media. Most of their g1 eps feel very ‘oh shit we forgot to sell these toys’; aid and blades are really the only two who get actual character arcs.
Fanon interpretation draws a lot from their official description and the cheesy sweetness of those eps. They’re the only combiner with more defensive capacity than offensive, and they’re built toe to tip to help humans. It lends to this fandom image of the boys as gentler, more comfortable around people than other cybertronians, and much kinder and loving towards each other.
ill chuck some longer takes on each of them under here ⬇️
Hot Spot: Big time dad energy; 25 year old boomer. He’s described as super energetic and invested in his team and they adore him in return. He can be a little out of touch like a high school PE teacher who thinks clapping at you is gonna make you enjoy running, but his heart is never not in the rights place. I don’t have much to say about hot spot mostly because that energy and motivation is a lot more apparent when you see it survive the really dark times. He’s a good boy, big baby blue border collie bot.
Blades: he’s the ‘bad boy’ but literally only because he’s standing next to 4 squeaky clean poster children. He’s like a cat; you need to play with him 3 times a day and give him somewhere high to sit and he’s very funny and sweet. Otherwise? Fight picking time. I like to think they have the aerialbots come over once a week to tussle with him and get all that energy out. LOVES teasing aid in the most pigtail-pulling embarrassing way possible. The cat analogy just works so well here I don’t have much else to add fhdhhdhdb
Groove: AH! This is the pacifist of the protectobots!! The official description that says it’s aid is totally wrong because Groove is the one with the philosophical streak and aid fires guns constantly. Groove sunbathes sideways on the floor in his alt mode; he’s a Garfield who’s read every Ursula Le Guinn essay. He roams and does fuck-all, and he likes to challenge people who take issue with that. Does a cybertronian need a gatling gun to be worth something? Can a mech not just be a motorcycle sitting very stoned on a cliff at sunset? The most frustrating one to argue with.
Streetwise: I’m making streetwise ACAB i’m sorry, i like him too much and he’s so nice. He’s just a dorky little Ford pursuit car and he can switch his insignia around to get past human barriers. Streetwise does the most legwork for human relations; he’s actually learnt the languages, not just auto translated, so he can better grip the cultures he’s interacting with. He talks to humans and lots of them, and he monitors when intervention would be good and when they need to stay out of it. There’s a pretty wobbly ethical issue with having 5 huge aliens just show up when there’s smoke; humanity is more complicated than that, and Streetwise does his best to make sure the Protectobots can keep operating while maintaining the trust of the people.
First Aid: Ok pulling off my kin tentacles for a moment. Aids a very empathetic bot, and in the g1 show that manifested as a lot of gentle motherly behaviour but we also have that IDW characterisation adding an edge to it. He processes his emotions externally, which is to say Aid observes the way he feels very closely in a detached way and uses that to empathise with others/manage the wellbeing of his team. As with many people who do this, it leaves an emotionally organised person; a bit prim a bit polite, very ASD/OCD. Aid also has a complex relationship with violence; he abhors seeing the waste and destruction of war, but he’s trapped himself in ritual. He might not want to be a soldier but he definitely wants to be swept off his feet.
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Misty Years
summary: Kuroo Tetsurou may be hella smart, but it takes a broken family, an almost crushed shoulder and an unexpected phone call for him to understand that he's not irrelevant. Not to everyone, at least.
an: this is a translation of my own german story (also on ao3) for @heyoitsgenderconfusion and uh, yeah, i hope you like it :)
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Tetsurou is five when his mother leaves and eight when he understands that she's gone. Not that he hadn't noticed that before, but it's just always been kind of there, haunting around him with a whisper and lurking under the surface.
And one morning, when Tetsurou gets up, enters the kitchen and sees his father sitting at the table alone, there's a thought in his mind that's never been there before: “Okaasan isn't coming back.” He's right. He's already made the experience that he's right pretty often, but on this day, for the first time, he wishes that he wasn't. A few years later Tetsurou learns that those kind of wishes don't come true, when he wishes for the machine to beep for a little longer and it goes silent anyways.
In primary school, his teacher tells him that he's a strong child, because he had to endure so much loss at a young age and still manages to go on. Tetsurou doesn't feel flattered, because going on means forgetting and not properly honoring the lost ones. Tetsurou is eight and a half when his grandmother tells him this at the funeral and twenty-three when he realizes that it's not true. But between eight and twenty-three lie fifteen long years in which the feeling of being a bad person follows him at every turn. Haunting around him with a whisper, lurking under the surface, but there. In retrospect he asks himself whether it really would've been better if he had recognized that earlier, because that would've made him a different person and he actually likes himself just fine by now. He doesn't come to a clear answer, just to the conclusion that he would've liked to hold the right conversations a tad earlier.
Not with Kenma. Kenma is one of the most important people in his life and Tetsurou is twelve when he tells him this, but Kenma isn't the kind of attachment figure you talk to. He also doesn't answer when he hears that cheesy sentence, that had been hanging between them for quiet some time and that he had probably already seen coming, because Kenma is just like that and smiles and says nothing. That's not bad. That's what Tetsurou loves about him. Kenma isn't very good at making first steps, or making second steps, but he can be present and sometimes that's everything Tetsurou needs, because everything's always too much for him. Kenma is never too much and sometimes too little, but at least he's there and that already makes him a lot better than those who aren't.
It can be really good to have someone who pushes your borders and challenges you though and Tetsurou is in high school when he realizes that. He never had someone like that in his life before; who would that have been, anyway? Kenma doesn't talk much, his father talks too much and his grandmother only talks when she has some controversy to spread. He doesn't know whether his grandfather talked much, because the first memory he has of him is an old man who stares at the ceiling, accompanied by the beeping of a machine. Tetsurou is fourteen when he meets Yaku Morisuke and has an equally balanced conversation for the first time.
It takes a little while for them to become friends, but honestly, he feels like he's learned more about Yaku during the time they needed for this than during the time after. The Libero had driven him crazy more than once, but he wouldn't change a thing, because it built his character and the things he likes about himself now are mainly things he has to credit Yaku for. Making peace with him was still a relief.
Tetsurou is fifteen when he has a panic attack for the first time and Yaku turns out to be the best thing which happened to him that year. At least that's what Kenma says and when Kenma bothers to comment on something, he must've thought if through. And he's right. Tetsurou doesn't even want to know what he would've done that night if Yaku hadn't been there.
After that, first year in high school is a good year. It's easier to fit into the team and also the classes are way more fun without getting distracted constantly. The first training camp in summer is only the icing on the cake.
Tetsurou is fifteen and a half when he crashes into Bokuto Koutarou at the gym entrance and almost bruises his shoulder in the process. His arm, which he used to catch himself, throbs uncomfortably and some enormous weight on his chest leaves him breathless, then it vanishes.
“Oh shit, are you hurt?! I'm so sorry, I really need to be more careful, sorry! Can you stand up? Can I help you?”
These are the first words he hears out of Bokuto's mouth. In one of his endless speeches about himself, his father once said that the first impression is the most impressive and never has he been so right, because that face Bokuto makes, that mixture of guilt and worry, he never forgets.
“Next time, buy me dinner before harassing me like this,” he says and allows that he's pulled back to his feet. Tetsurou is still fifteen and a half when Bokuto buys him Katsudon as an apology and somehow becomes his friend.
It's all very easy with Bokuto. Bokuto is the first one with whom he can just let go. He can't do that with Kenma. Kenma tries his best, but he's not strong enough to catch both of them and that's okay. That's not important anymore. Bokuto just gets him, because no matter how dense he might seem sometimes, his emotional intelligence is unmatched among all the people he knows.
Tetsurou is sixteen when Bokuto sees him cry for the first time and he would've never thought that it would feel so good to tell him about his broken family. On that day, everything around him gets less dark and knowing that Bokuto is there for him makes the sun of Tetsurou's world rise every day.
One of the best things about Bokuto Koutarou is that there's more of his kind and to be honest, you can never have enough people like him in your life. Tetsurou is seventeen when he visits his friend at home and meets his sisters. He has a sister himself, but Tsunade left over ten years ago with Okaasan and they haven't been in contact ever since. There was always a part of him that felt like it was missing and for the first time someone attempts to close this wound: Bokuto Tomomi and Bokuto Asuga are neither less loud nor less cordial than their little brother and they treat Tetsurou as if he'd always been a part of the family.
He's at Bokuto's place often now, more often than he's at his own and almost as often as he's at Kenma's. Tomomi and Asuga are always there to ask him questions: how was your day, how are you, what are you up to and one might think that it's too much, but maybe, Tetsurou thinks, too much is exactly what he needs right now. After all, he always had Kenma who was just right, then Yaku who teased him and bordered on being overwhelming and now... now he has Tomomi and Asuga who shower him in affection and it feels good.
Now he has Bokuto. And Bokuto is always way too much, always way too loud, always way too excited, always way too close, always way too himself and it feels so, so good to have this complete and utter stimulus satiation around. Sometimes he feels like Bokuto's smiles are blinding him and Bokuto's hugs are crushing him, but then he looks at Bokuto and feels comfortable, because the blinding smile becomes a light at the end of the tunnel and the crushing hug becomes a safe cave in which he can hide when he's done with the world.
Tetsurou is eighteen when he falls in love.
“Why don't you just attach a luminous advertising to your face?” Kenma asks him after a practice match against Fukurodani and that it's apparently really that obvious is like being thrown into freezing water. But the worst part is that Kenma isn't the only one to notice. Everyone seems to.
“You're making heart eyes,” Yaku informs him and he hastily looks away from Bokuto who's wiping the sweat off his forehead, knows that he's blushing, because the Libero has that stupid grin on his face.
“Why don't you just ask him to go out with you?” even Sawamura meddles at the next training camp and when his eyes search those of the other captain, he's met with a smile – genuine, apparently in good faith, and when he shakes his head, appalled, the crow just shrugs. “Just a thought. I think he'd say yes.”
Of course Tetsurou doesn't ask. He's not an idiot.
He also doesn't understand how Sawamura even gets the idea that Bokuto could agree to go on a date with him. Yes, he's always very close to him, hugging him, kissing him on the cheek from time to time, but that's just Bokuto. Bokuto's also this close to Akaashi, right? He doesn't make a difference between best friend and good friend. Right?
Tetsurou is nineteen when he moves in with Bokuto and everything becomes a lot easier, but also a lot harder. It's nothing bad to have a roommate and living with your best friend is the total win, but hiding love feelings away from your best friend when you're living with them is the opposite of easy. It's not even the exuberant greetings after a rough day, or the long hugs after a won match that get to Tetsurou; it's the little things that happen all the time throughout everyday life and that are unavoidable, because there's no sign of them about to happen. Like when Bokuto laughs about something and their eyes meet and the wide smile on his face, for a brief second, looks like it's meant just for him, Tetsurou. Like when Bokuto pokes his side in passing, because he thinks it's funny how Tetsurou flinches and laughs every time. Like when Bokuto grabs him by the wrist to pull him forward, because Tetsurou is way too slow for him, because Bokuto is always so excited and has to share his excitement at all costs. Like when Bokuto ruffles his hair playfully, because... actually, Tetsurou has no idea why Bokuto does that, but he likes it. He likes it and at the same time it drives him crazy.
Tetsurou doesn't realize that Bokuto isn't that close to anyone else, not even Akaashi. Or maybe he just doesn't want to realize it, because that would mean, that he would actually have to deal with that whole love thing. Because that would mean that he's top priority for someone and maybe that would be too much. Although he was Kenma's top priority for a long time (even if he gets the impression that Hinata Shoyo surpassed him – which is okay), but Kenma has never really been emotional and as long as it just hovers in the air silently, Tetsurou can cope with it. But things never hover in the air silently with Bokuto. With Bokuto, everything is screamed and declared and presented and Tetsurou isn't used to someone loving him so openly. His grandmother and his father love him, of course, but he can count the times they told him that on one hand, because they just aren't that kind of people. Kenma loves him in that very own, intensely platonic way and Tetsurou can count the times the younger one hinted at that on one hand, because he just isn't that kind of person. Yaku isn't very exuberant as well and rather expresses his affection through violence than through actions which can actually be recognized as affectionate. And Tetsurou knows that he's loved, but he somehow only knows it subconsciously, because no one ever tells him and sometimes, when everything is shit already and he can't sleep, he thinks that people probably couldn't even love him if they wanted to, because if they could, Okaasan wouldn't have left in the first place. Right?
Tetsurou is twenty and a half when Tsunade calls him and he realizes that the fifteen years without a mother and a sister probably got more to him than he wants to admit after all. She tells him that their father gave her his phone number, that she's in Tokyo again and that she'd like to meet him and he says Wow and Okay and I'll call you back and hangs up. When Bokuto comes home two hours later, he's been texting Kenma for what feels like an eternity already, but still doesn't know whether he really wants to call her back and then he lies on the couch for two more hours and cries and talks to Bokuto, because talking to Bokuto always helps. He doesn't even know why Tsunade's phone call bothers him this much. He has pushed the thought of her away for a long time and came to terms with her leaving him alone. And when Bokuto asks him why he just accepted that his own sister hadn't want to see him for fifteen years, he says that it was sort of irrelevant for the past three years, because he has had Tomomi and Asuga. And it clicks, because Tomomi and Asuga are kind of the problem. They were there for him, they were twice the sister he never had. And what if Tsunade is everything he hopes for and more? Can he replace Tomomi and Asuga just like that? Can he replace Tsunade with Tomomi and Asuga? Is it okay for him to put Bokuto's sisters above his own? Is he scared of disappointing one of them, or scared of doing something wrong? Is he scared of everything being too much?
And just one second after this realization, Bokuto forces him to sit up, takes his hands and says: “You're not irrelevant, Tetsu” and it clicks again. It clicks, because this is the most honest and beautiful thing anyone has ever told him, because this is exactly what he's been wanting to hear for the past years and then he leans forward and kisses Bokuto, because it feels right.
Tetsurou is twenty-one when he lies in the park next to Tsunade and tries to describe the feeling that Bokuto gives him to her. It's actually just like before, but better. Lighter. Warmer. Tsunade nods and says that she understands; him agreeing to meet with her, she explains, somehow made her life calm down – I know what you mean, she says, there was a thunderstorm before and he shakes his head and says No, No, he says, there was mist. But now there's no mist anymore. Now there's Bokuto and Bokuto is the sun.
To meet with Tsunade wasn't that bad, actually; now he has three sisters and someone to talk to when his grandmother dies two years later. Someone who tells him that he's not a bad person for being a teeny-tiny bit relieved about not being criticized for everything anymore.
He doesn't meet his mother. He doesn't want to. His family is big enough and there's no place for a woman who doesn't even consider sending her regards through his sister. Tetsurou is twenty-five when Bokuto proposes to him and Tsunade jokes that he should keep always keep an eye on her brother, then she hugs him and whispers that she'll do that too, from now on.
Tetsurou is twenty-six when he says Yes and the mist vanishes completely.
#rey writes#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! fic#bokuroo#kuroo tetsurou#bokuto koutarou#kuroo tetsurou x bokuto koutarou#kuroo tetsurou's sister#bokuto koutarou's sisters#kozume kenma#yaku morisuke#nekoma#hurt/comfort#sort of#idk man a little angsty and fluffy to fix it
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thoughts on kuroo? you dont talk about him a lot
THOUGHTS I HAVE
i seriously need to make more kuroo works on my page
like i wish the bank teller thing couldda been longer/better but i got plenty of time to make other kuroo things
ANYWAYS
Because I'm falling back into the trap of simping for kuroo, have some thoughts that I half assed with the only line divider ive made
BEWARE BC I CURSE IN THIS, now, 🎆messy kuroo headcanons that i did in 10 minutes🎆
FEM READERS (SHE/HER, SHE/THEY), DO NOT INTERACT
⭄ Kuroo always has pens on hand. It's random, you've got no fuckin clue where he gets them, but they're there
⭄ We know hes a nerd, right? Yeah well if you ever go over to his house, the sheer amount of science/chemistry books laying around are almost scary. And he's read like all of them more than once.
⭄ It doesn't matter if you're taller than him or not, (I personally am not), he'll still mess with your head. Play with your hair, rest his hands on your head, lightly push you around by the back of your head, etc.
⭄ Because some people at school/university, (whatever time period you want), think he's a huge playboy, he'll sometimes try to fall into that role. Like flirt with you tirelessly. He's actually not even that bad at it, but he usually breaks character when he says such a stupid pick up line that he can't even handle it
⭄ Kuroo doesn't have any pets, but he's always really wanted a black cat. If you ever live together he'll pester you to get one
⭄ Kuroo is very big on pda. Like, very big. He'll kiss you every time he sees you for apparently no reason, usually saying corny things like "hey handsome" or "Whats a pretty guy like you doing here all by yourself?" If he's not borderline trying to make out with you, he's giving you side hugs or hiding his face in your shoulder or leaning against you, etc. Any form of pda to be given, he'll give it. If you're uncomfy though he'll back off.
⭄ He really likes stupid cheesy teen romance movies, but at the same time he'll rag on rom coms. (he also likes anime/horror, he's kind of a tv junkie). But you can bet he's picked up some habits from those movies. Like I'm talking throwing pebbles at your window, or showing up in the rain with flowers, stuff like that.
⭄ Any nickname he can think of for you, he will use. Like my guy will call you pretty boy, handsome, love of my life, and supreme overlord of my heart all in one breath. He really likes handsome though.
⭄ Insecure? It doesn't matter about what, maybe your weight or gender identity or face or skin, he don't care. He'll pick out every little thing he likes about you, and if you have any insecurities he'll talk those away too. Maybe it won't be forever, sure, but in the moment he'll distract you from whatevers bothering you. It don't matter what you look like, sound like, act like, or anything, you're worthy of love and happiness and anyone who says otherwise is a troll <3. (I fully endorse that message)
⭄ He definitely brags about you to kenma. And the whole team, but kenma gets it the worst lol
⭄ Because he likes pda a lot, that means private affection is like UP UP. If you're trying to study with him he'll shove his face in your hair or neck, and just kinda sit there. Kind of like a cat. He'll kiss you everywhere on your face and then some. Dude does NOT LAY OFF. (Unless you're uncomfortable ofc ofc).
⭄ Long story short id probably give my whole brother to be his boyfriend
⭄ Those are my thoughts on kuroo
Do not repost, translate, or copy my work on to other platforms.
#hq x male reader#m!reader#anime x male reader#x male reader#male reader#haikyuu x male reader#kuroo tetsuro x male reader#kuroo x male reader
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Boys Like This
Pairing: y/n x Haechan
Themes: fluff, angst, badboy au
Warnings: swearing, mentions of smoking, mentions of sex, sexual harassment (one drunk guy gets a bit too close)
Words: 18.8k - this was meant to be like 3k max someone save me
Tag list: @honei-n (happy birthday bubs!! ilysm and i’m sorry i’m not there to give you the biggest hug but have this instead) @lebrookestore @ch3nj1 @ridinhyuck @cacaubs @cheonsa1004 @tyongf-sunflower99
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If you’re looking for the personification of the bad boy stereotype, look no further than Lee Donghyuck. His legs were clad in ripped black jeans and on his shoulders always lay his signature black leather jacket. His usually bruised knuckles were adorned with silver rings and the cigarette that hung from his lips all made him look like the typical bad boy out of a cheesy 90s romance film.
As infuriating as the smirk that was constantly plastered on his lips was, and the way he insisted everybody called him ‘Haechan’ instead of Donghyuck, you couldn’t deny that something about him pricked your interest.
Maybe it was something to do with how self assured he was, the confidence he radiated in simply being himself and being in his own skin that made people almost resent him for it. Or maybe it was something to do with how he reminded you of every boy that your mother would warn you about when you were growing up, being told to steer clear of the boys in black, they would be the ones to break your heart. Maybe it was the fact that as soon as anybody new arrives in the area, they’re immediately told to ‘Avoid Haechan, he’s bad news.’ And you weren’t the exception to the rule.
There’s just one problem, you never do what you’re told.
So when you were told to stay away from Haechan, you simply rolled your eyes and kept walking, you weren’t afraid of some bad boy. You’d moved around your entire life, your father’s job meaning you had to be prepared to pack up and travel wherever he needed you to, and, throughout your time you had heard of and come across every kind of character that there was in a high school. A few groups in particular always stuck out to you.
The jocks. Probably the most famous group and likely the first group that comes to anyone’s mind when you talk about high school. Jocks are an elite crowd, often very popular and normally find themselves very important. For them, high school tends to be the best time of their lives, sadly finding that this popularity and fear doesn’t translate to the workplace. Jocks are a large group as well, in fact, they often have so many members that they divide into sub-categories, usually by sport. You have the baseball team, the football team, the soccer team etc. and then these are ordered into a hierarchy apparently based on the importance that each team has to the school when in reality it’s down to how attractive/popular the team captain is.
Splitting off nicely from the jocks come the cheerleaders. Originally part of the same pack but grew in popularity when they adopted mean girls cliché. Therefore, in order to gain more power and dominate the school, they became a separate breed. The Head Cheerleader was guaranteed to be just as popular as she was bitchy, a stereotype that you were fed up of. What if they were actually nice people and felt as though they had to be rude cause that was what the “role” of Head Cheerleader asked of them? What kind of a place would that be? Anyway, getting back to the point, the best thing to do with this group, would be to avoid them entirely.
Then, usually the polar opposite in terms of popularity, come the nerds/geeks. You had never really been sure why this particular group was always picked on. You always thought that being smart and doing well in life was something to brag about, but then, maybe you just had weird opinions. They formed a cluster and stuck with it, whilst also managing to keep themselves to themselves. They sat at the same seats in class, the same table at lunch and never argued back. Despite their deathly awkwardness and shy behaviour, they were usually pretty good people. You just had to be willing to put in the effort to break through their shell.
Next come the artsy kids. This group can, once again, split into sub categories based on Theatre, Art, Dance and Music but that depends on the size of the school. Normally they just come under the umbrella term of the artsy kids. Very easy to pick on but are normally left alone. They’re pretty chill and mostly mind their own business, despite often being slightly obnoxious about the art that they specialise in. You swore that if one person asked you to go and see their one woman show you might punch them. You’re a broke student, why would you pay to put yourself through two hours of pretentious speech? Yeah, the artsy kids weren’t quite your scene.
Honourable mentions go to the stoners, the class clowns, the hipsters, the ‘I was born in the wrong generation’, the gamers and the punks. But there was only one group left worth mentioning.
Finally, the last stereotypical school clique would be the troublemakers, otherwise known as the bad boys and bad girls The commonalities between the two groups tend to include things like, black ripped clothing, silver jewellery, sassy attitudes and bad decisions. They never stray from their crowd, finding other groups too boring and stuck up for their taste. The cheerleaders and jocks attempt to pick on them, but it rarely works out in their favour. Instead of leaving victorious while dropping the mic, they often find themselves running back to their respective groups with their tail in between their legs. They like to either find relationships with their own kind, or play around with various people until they’re bored. Things are never too serious for this group.
So as soon as you arrived, you knew you’d need to find somewhere to fit in. You didn’t really conform to one of the many cliche groups that roamed this new school. You instead thought that people were a mixture of all of them, and shouldn’t be defined by a single personality trait, but that often wasn’t the most popular opinion. In fact, that opinion is why you often found yourself alone, wandering the halls by yourself. Sometimes people pitied you (usually the hipsters or artsy kids who tried to make you “find your passion”) but, to be honest, you didn’t mind it.
Being by yourself meant that you didn’t owe anything to anyone, and it meant that you could turn the school upside down and disappear without regretting a thing. After all, that’s how you left your last three schools.
---
You walked through the doors on your first day, to empty folders tucked under your arm as you walked towards the Principle’s office. You had barely made it five steps before some guys in a football jersey stopped you. He moved in front of you, buffing himself up in an attempt to look more impressive. You refused to speak first, instead just raising your eyebrows judgmentally.
‘So what should I call you?’ He purred, looking at you through hooded eyes.
‘You shouldn’t.’ You cut back, already tired of his attempt at flirting. You knew you had “new kid” written all over you and this wasn’t a genuine attempt, but most like rather a “welcome to the school fresher” and you weren’t here for it.
‘Trouble it is.’ The guy flirted, sending you a cheesy wink to which you could only respond with a groan and an eye roll.
‘God could you get anymore cliche? You may want to be a bit more inventive if you wanna impress me.’ With a quick tilt of your head, you turned and stalked past him to the other end of the hall, leaving the poor jock with his mouth hanging slightly open at your reply.
You felt a bit bad turning him down so intensely like that, but you also knew that if you didn’t make a strong first impression, you would be like fresh meat to them. And you didn’t want to go through that again.
---
After meeting the Principle, getting his painfully rehearsed welcome speech, then dealing with the three students who called themselves the “Welcome Committee”, you briefly stopped off at your locker to grab the text book that had been left there for you and place your empty folders there. You wouldn’t need them until your classes anyway. You picked up the textbook and grabbed a pad of paper that was conveniently left there for you as well and headed towards your Maths class.
You walked through the door, sighing in defeat as you saw you were one of the last ones to arrive. This meant that all eyes were on you and the teacher stood up and introduced you as the new student.
‘So y/n why don’t you tell the class a little bit about yourself?’ The teacher gave you a wide smile, one that you were sure was meant to reassure you but it honestly just creeped you out slightly.
‘Uhhh, sure. My name’s y/n and I moved here about a month ago.’ You sent the class a quick nod before attempting to move off to head off an empty seat at the back.
‘Ahhh come now y/n, I’m sure there’s more that you can tell us.’ The teacher stopped you in your tracks, as you let out a breath of annoyance.
‘Ok. I’ve never lived anywhere longer than a year, I like coffee and I’m done with this now.’ You quickly moved away before the teacher could stand up and make you continue. You slouched in your seat, crossing your arms and letting out another sigh of frustration.
You had just opened your books and prepared to start listening when the door swung open again. All the heads in the class, including yours, looked to see who would be walking in so late. A boy appeared, his honey skin glowing slightly in the morning sun that reflected off his leather jacket and silver jewellery. He probably couldn’t get more cliche, but he also couldn’t get more beautiful.
‘Haechan, you’re late.’ Your teacher snapped and you looked back at the boy walking through the seats.
So this was Haechan, this was who you had been warned about earlier. You remembered the annoyingly cheery welcome that this group of three had given you, yet this preppy ginger was the only one who spoke. You were sure she was a really lovely person, she was just way too excited about the first day of school to not be annoying. Anyway, she’d told you about the groups at school and made a point to mention this “Haechan”. Her exact words being:
‘Let me save you the trouble, Haechan is the last person you want to get involved with here, in any way. He puts himself as number one and nothing and no one is going to change that. It’s in your best interests to stay away from him.’
And yet, despite your absolutely minimal effort to avoid him, this Haechan was standing at the front of your class, and you couldn’t lie, you were already intrigued.
‘Yeah I’m aware.’ Haechan retaliated, his bored voice bringing you out of your memories and back to reality.
‘Do you feel like apologising?’ The teacher asked, a very forced smile on his face. Haechan turned back towards him, breathing in as if he was thinking before responding with a smile.
‘Not really, no.’ He then turned away and walked towards the back of the classroom. He approached where you were sitting, examined you quickly causing you to frown at his behaviour, before he pulled out the chair next to yours and collapsed into it.
He slouched back into his seat, crossing his arms and staring mindlessly at the front of the class, where the teacher was still sending him the stink eye.
‘Haechan, did you bring your books?’ The teacher asked with the kind of tone that told you he probably already knew the answer.
‘Nope!’ The boy replied, popping the ‘p’ and causing the teacher to obviously roll his eyes.
‘Well, maybe our new student, y/n, would be nice enough to share with you for today?’
It took everything in you not to roll your eyes at his statement. But you still shifted your textbook in between the two of you so that he could see it. Haechan sat up in his chair slightly in surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting you to actually do it.
‘Thank you y/n. Now let’s begin-’ The teacher turned back to the board and began the lesson.
After only about five minutes you realised that you had done this entire topic in your previous school. It had been necessary for you to pass the entrance exam here, so you knew all of this already. You huffed once again in frustration, dropping your pen and leaning back in your chair as you began to pick at your nails. Why would they bother to ask you to know something that they’re just going to teach you as soon as you got here?
You could see Haechan notice and begin to subtly watch your behaviour so you leant forwards to whisper to him.
‘Is there something interesting about me?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m trying to figure out.’ Haechan replied, his voice just as soft as yours was and yet you couldn’t resist the shivers that it sent down your spine.
“Well let me know if you find anything?’ You spoke softly, turning away from him to look at the ceiling as he did the same.
‘Haven’t you been told to stay away from me?’ He asked you, not even bothering to look back towards you.
‘Oh yeah, I got that speech. The welcoming committee was quite informative about you and your personality.’ Now that got his attention. His head turned, as he looked at you out of the corner of his eye, examining your features carefully.
‘So...’ He spoke, dragging out the word as he looked at you.
‘So?’ You asked, not sure what he was getting at.
‘Why aren’t you doing as you were told?’ He questioned, leaving you to turn back to him with an amused look on your face.
‘What makes you think I wanna do what they tell me to? They look as though they have the personality of milk.’ You groaned, remembering the fake happiness that radiated off them.
Haechan couldn’t help the chuckle that came up in his throat, unable to believe just how accurate your words were. Nobody in that school would quite be able to admit that that girl wasn’t drop dead boring.
‘Well, you’re a little firecracker aren’t you?’ He smirked at you, causing you to simply raise an eyebrow in reply. ‘I think you’re gonna fit right in with us.’
‘Who says I want to?’ You smirked back, now enjoying the interaction you were having.
‘Do you want to?’ He leant in closer and you could smell the mint of his breath.
‘We’ll see. Don’t want to give away all my secrets so quickly.’ You pulled back, leaving Haechan awkwardly leaning over half of your desk just as the teacher turned back around.
‘Haechan! Not only are you not paying attention but you’re distracting y/n as well. If you’re not going to pay attention you can wait outside until you’re prepared to take this class seriously.’ He snapped, and Haechan turned to you with a surprised look on his face, not expecting you to have set him up like that. He nodded, unable to keep the small smile from his lips and stood, walking swiftly out of the door at the front.
He leaned back in for one second, just to cheekily wave at the teacher who looked as though he was about to explode and it took everything in you to stop yourself from laughing.
A couple more minutes passed before you were bored beyond belief. You were starting to think that getting your only source of entertainment, Haechan, kicked out of class wasn’t the smartest idea you’d ever had. You were halfway through counting the black marks on the ceiling when you heard a very quiet tapping from behind you, You turned around in your chair to see Haechan standing by the floor length window at the back of the classroom. He was on the outside looking in and quickly gestured for you to follow him.
He cracked the window open slightly and leant in, getting just close enough to you to whisper:
‘I’ve played your game, now it’s my turn. Your move y/n, are you gonna live up to your attitude or are you all talk?’
With that he moved away from the window, hiding behind the wall as the teacher turned around again. You didn’t want to get caught sneaking out on your first day, but you also couldn’t stand the idea of letting Haechan win. Somehow the boy was an addictive kind of annoying, no matter how infuriated or annoyed you had gotten, you already wanted more.
You waited for the teacher to turn around and quickly piled up your books, placing them on the shelf under your desk. This was your only class of the day and you were in here the next morning so you weren’t too fussed about leaving them behind.
You began to get up but your eyes suddenly caught sight of blue haired guy sitting a couple of rows ahead of you watching you. He raised his eyebrows in question, as if asking if you were going to go, to which you shrugged and he shrugged himself before turning back around.
You waited until the girl at the front had finished asking her question and, when the teacher turned back to the front to go through the example on the board again, you made your move. You quickly pushed your chair back, relieved when it didn’t make a sound and climbed out of the window. You pulled it gently shut behind you and turned to left, finding yourself face to face with Haechan.
‘Wow, for a minute then I didn’t think you’d have the balls.’ He grinned at you, pulling you out of sight of the class as you began to walk away.
‘Well as you can clearly see, I do. So what now?’ You replied, unable to stop yourself from grinning back.
‘Now we have some fun.’ Haechan said, the smile he sent you this time was the opposite of innocent and it made your heart pump.
This was someone you would enjoy causing trouble with.
---
The two of you decided that leaving the school and skiving on the first day was a bit too cliche and unoriginal, so instead you came up with the idea that, no matter what you guys did, it had to be on school grounds.
‘Interesting...’ Haechan mused, the smirk that you were already familiar with gracing his delicate features. ‘So we cause as much chaos as we like, and do what we like, but there’s a much higher risk of getting caught...’
‘Exactly.’ You clarified. ‘But we can leave for lunch though! I want McDonalds.’ You quickly added, Haechan laughing slightly at your expression.
‘Agreed. So we’ll have our fun here, then head to McDonalds for lunch. Tell you what, why don’t we leave a little earlier than the lunch break so that we avoid bumping into the rest of the students?’ Haechan watched as you nodded in agreement.
You allowed your gaze to drift around the unfamiliar halls until your eyes came to rest on the smoke detector on the wall. Suddenly an idea popped into your head. It was stupid, reckless and if you got caught you would be in serious trouble. Sounds ideal.
‘Hey Haechan?’ You began, turning towards him with a grin on your face.
‘Yeah?’ He answered, a grin appearing on his own. He didn’t know what you were planning but he knew it would be interesting.
‘Have you ever set off the fire alarm?’ You asked, raising an eyebrow as his furrowed in thought.
‘Like falsely pulled it? Yeah.’ He admitted, nodding like it was no big deal, but you shook your head.
‘No, not falsely pulled, actually set it off.’ You watched as his jaw dropped slightly and he shook his head. 'Yeah, neither.’ You told him, before looking away. He followed your gaze to see the smoke detector on the wall.
You both turned back to each other.
‘Well...’ Haechan began, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. ‘There’s a first time for everything.’
---
The alarm blared through the school as you and Hyuck laughed to yourself as the school emptied.
‘No talking!’ A teacher behind you barked, causing the two of you to roll your eyes in sync. Why you had to walk silently during a fire alarm you would never know. If the school was actually on fire you would be sprinting out of it swearing at the top of your lungs, not walking silently in an orderly fashion.
The two of you had had to find a way to set off the alarm, so you put your heads together. Neither of you had managed to come up with anything that wouldn’t get you caught, and you were about to give up when you noticed the cigarettes in Haechan’s pocket. Now that gave you an idea.
You had lit the cigarette and, with Haechan supporting you from beneath as you sat on his shoulders, managed to stuff it inside the fire alarm. You gently blowed on it, to make sure it was lit and there was smoke coming off it and suddenly the alarm blared throughout the school. You then proceeded to slip off his shoulders, him catching you easily in his arms and you both quickly moved into your respective bathrooms.
You stood by the door and counted to five before opening the bathroom door and leaving again. You’d noticed the men’s bathroom door next to you open and Haechan walked out. The two of you blended seamlessly into the crowd of students as they made their way out to the assembly point.
You had decided to hide in the bathroom for a couple of seconds so that neither of you were spotted underneath the fire alarm. You thought that if they noticed the bad boy and the new girl under the fire alarm that ended up having a cigarette stuck in it, the game would be over before it had even properly begun.
Students poured out of the doors of the school, lining up cleanly and efficiently on the sports pitches. You were standing in sections, divided by years and then each class split into lines. You faced your teacher at the front as they called out student’s names from the register.
‘Here.’ You spoke out as you heard your name, a similar call coming from your partner in crime behind you as his name was called. You turned around to face him. ‘Lee Donghyuck?’ You raised a teasing eyebrow.
‘Yep, that’s my real name.’ He replied, looking down at you.
‘So, can I ask then, why Haechan? Donghyuck’s a nice name.’ You wondered, tilting your head out of curiosity.
Haechan opened his mouth to answer but before he could, a boy who you recognised from your Maths class came up to the two of you.
‘Already corrupting the new kid Hyuck?’ He joked, a large smile on his face.
‘Trust me man, she barely needs corrupting.’ Haechan replied, laughing at his friend. ‘Y/n, this is Jaemin, he’s one of my closest friends.’
Jaemin flashed you a smile that you swore almost blinded you. You shook his outstretched hand and returned his smile with one of your own.
‘I’ve gotta say, I was impressed to see you follow him out of that window y/n. It looks like you’ve got some guts.’ Jaemin spoke, his face showing how he was clearly surprised. ‘And I’m guessing from what happened in Maths that this fire alarm may have something to do with the two of you?’
You and Haechan shared a grin and that small action told Jaemin all he needed to know. Jaemin laughed in disbelief, muttering something about how exciting the rest of the year was going to be if this was how you were acting on the first day. You couldn’t quite hear him though, your attention focused on the way that Haechan studied the features on your face, with such intensity you would think he was never going to see them again.
You spent the time making conversation with Jaemin and Haechan, getting to know the two boys, but your attention was drawn away from them when a fire engine made its way into the school gates. All the conversation surrounding you dwindled to a stop as one student asked what was going on.
‘Since there was no fire drill scheduled for today, we needed to call the fire department to determine what caused the alarm to go off.’ Your teacher explained.
The three of you looked at each other in disbelief, all of you unable to stop yourselves from giggling at the chaos you’d caused. You couldn’t help but think that Jaemin had been right. If this was day one, who knew what adventures this year would bring you? You’d never liked a place so quickly like you had here. Maybe for the first time in your life, you’d found somewhere you could actually see yourself staying.
You didn’t want to let yourself get your hopes up though. You had only been in this city a short while, and your father’s job would always mean that you had to move by this time next year. You couldn’t afford to get comfortable.
The boys watched as the firefighters entered the building, attempting to determine what caused the alarm to go off. It didn’t take long before they emerged with one of them holding a small plastic bag. A bad that you assumed that had the cigarette in. The teachers came into a small circle to have a short conversation before turning back to the waiting students.
The Principle suddenly stepped forward, immediately commanding attention from every student present as he began to speak.
‘This fire alarm was no drill. Nor was it an accident. We have evidence that it was set off on purpose and I seriously suggest that anyone who knows anything about how this happens steps forward. Do not make this any worse for you than it already is.’
With that, he turned, and made his way back into the school. An uneasy silence lay over all the students. You teacher walked back over to your group and spoke to the rest of you there.
‘Since it’s so close to lunch, we’ve decided to let you go early. But-’ They raised their voice as everyone began to move off. ‘This incident will not be taken lightly. To anybody who may have been involved, it is in your best interest to own up to it.’
You noticed their eyes were fixated on Haechan, and how they narrowed slightly. They seemed to fully believe that Haechan was involved with setting off the alarm.
‘They always assume it’s me. Whenever anything happens.’ He whispered into your ear and you nodded in understanding. ‘So... McDonalds?’
---
Haechan pulled back into the school grounds after your trip for lunch, Jaemin jumped out of the car and waved at the two of you before heading back into the building. While you and Haechan had a free afternoon, Jaemin didn’t, so, after some begging and bribing on Jaemin’s part, Haechan begrudgingly agreed to drop him off.
You turned back around to Haechan, wondering if you should propose to do something together, or if he was bored of you and had other things he’d rather be doing. However, before you had the chance to make up your mind, Haechan spoke for you.
‘I know where to go now.’ And with that he was off, driving out of the gates and off down the road. You couldn’t help but notice how good of a driver he was, always managing to keep his awareness on the road even when he was talking to you.
Haechan fumbled for something down near his feet, letting out a happy giggle when he found it and pulled out an AUX cord. He offered it to you, telling you to put something on the speakers.
You raised your eyebrows in surprise at his offer, considering he’d adamantly refused to let Jaemin play any of his music on the way to grab lunch, instead choosing to listen to the radio.
‘Already letting me choose the music? Damn, I feel special.’ You teased as Haechan laughed.
‘Just don’t play that song and we’ll be good.’ He looked over for a split second, noticing your offended face and quickly continued. ‘It’s a good song, don’t get me wrong, but all Jaemin plays is girl groups and you reach a limit of how many times you can hear a grown ass boy with blue hair sing Feel Special.’
You looked down at your phone, chuckling to yourself at Haechan’s story. You scrolled through your Spotify to find a good playlist, eventually settling on your driving music one. ‘What You Know’ by ‘Two Door Cinema Club’ started to blare through the speakers.
Haechan nodded, his fingers immediately tapping on the steering wheel in time to the song.
‘Good song!’ He complimented smiling at you as you gasped over-dramatically.
‘Ahhhh, Haechan likes my music taste! I have officially won at life!’ You placed one hand on your heart to emphasise your point as Haechan rolled his eyes, laughing at you. ‘Where are we going by the way?’ You asked, looking out of the window and realising you had no idea where you were. You were still new to the area so you hadn’t got everywhere memorised yet.
‘We’re almost there, don't worry.’ He replied, not giving you an answer in the slightest. You leaned back into your seat, accepting that he wasn’t going to tell you and just listened as Haechan began to sing gently along to the song. You were surprised by his voice, it was soothing and honey-like, the opposite of his image.
You watched him out of the corner of your eye, secretly enjoying listening to his voice more than the music.
---
You were standing behind Haechan in a quiet little coffee shop, looking at everything on the menu. Everything looked so amazing you could feel your mouth watering just from looking at the display cakes.
‘Any idea what you want?’ Haechan asked over his shoulder as you nodded.
‘I’m gonna get the Caramel Frap and a muffin of some kind.’ You replied. ‘What about you?’
‘Doubleshot Vanilla iced Coffee and a brownie. You gonna have coffee in your frap?’ He answered, moving forwards in the line as the person in front of you finished.
‘Always!!!’ You answered in a sing-song voice as Haechan rolled his eyes muttering something about you being as bad as Jaemin.
He stepped up to the counter and gave the cashier a friendly smile.
‘Hi, please can I get one large Caramel Frap with coffee and whip, one large Doubleshot Vanilla iced Coffee, one brownie and-’
‘Whoa what? It’s okay I can pay for myself.’ You interrupted him but he brushed you off.
‘Nah it’s fine, this is on me. And one peanut and banana muffin please?’ He finished the order and your eyes widened at his choice. ‘All the muffins here are good.’ He explained turning back to you.
‘Haechan I-’ You began, slightly in a panic.
‘Y/n, I told you I’m paying.’ He insisted but you continued.
‘Seriously I can’t-’ You stuttered, desperately trying to get your point across.
‘For the last time, y/n I am paying!’ He cut you off again.
‘No! I’m allergic to peanuts...’ You hurriedly told him and watched as his expression morphed into one of utter dread.
‘Oh god.’ He mumbled before turning around and almost throwing himself across the counter in an attempt to correct his order to a white chocolate and raspberry muffin. He turned back to you with the treats in his hand and gave you a sheepish smile. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s okay, you didn’t know.’ You laughed, looking down at the muffin in your hand that smelt absolutely delicious.
It didn’t take long before your drinks had arrived and Haechan hurried you back into his car, claiming there was one more place he wanted to show you.
---
You were sitting on a bench in a deserted area of the park. Haechan had explained that if you wanted privacy, to come down here as people normally don’t bother to walk this far. He pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket, offering you one which you refused, before lighting his own.
‘It’s always worth it though. The tranquility that you get just from being a little further out.’ He looked sideways at you, tilting his head when he saw your confused expression. ‘What?’
‘Nothing it’s just... Why are you telling me all this? I mean I was told that you were aloof, never telling anyone but a close few details about yourself, keeping everything a mystery and yet here you are. With me, someone you’ve known now for about five hours and so far we’ve skived Maths, set off the fire alarm, brought the fire brigade to school, bought McDonalds, grabbed a coffee, almost killed me and now you’re talking to me about tranquility. You just... It doesn’t seem like something you’d do with someone you just met.’ You admitted, shrugging your shoulders as you finished.
Haechan looked away from you for a second, taking a drag from his cigarette before he faced you again to answer your question.
‘Well, I guess the only thing to say to that is, not all rumours are true. And yes, you have a point, not a lot of people sit and talk about tranquility with someone they just met, but not a lot of people get into trouble worthy of suspension on the first day. And even less of those people are willing to do it with me. Maybe that has something to do with it.’
‘Tell me something, then. Which rumours are true?’ You challenged.
‘Some of them.’ Haechan admitted. ‘I do smoke, I do cause trouble, I did sleep around quite a bit, and yeah, I hurt some people in the process. And also, yes, I didn’t really care that much. But the one thing I never did was lie to anyone or give them the impression that it was ever something more than just one night. That’s why I was “unsympathetic” to anyone. They knew what they were getting into so why is it my fault that they couldn’t handle it?’
Your jaw dropped slightly, not expecting that kind of answer. You mumbled a quick ‘fair point’ and turned your gaze back to the scenery. The river in front of you flowed gently, coursing it’s own way through life, the sun reflected off the constantly moving waves, casting flecks of light to dance across yours and Haechan’s bodies.
‘But I don’t think I’m gonna be doing that again. It makes you feel kinda empty, like you’re searching for something but anytime you come close to possibly having a chance at finding it, you take it away from yourself. Do you see that up there?’ Haechan changed the topic suddenly, pointing to a cliff edge in between the trees. You squinted slightly, trying to get a look at it, but it was difficult to see through the leaves.
‘Yeah, I think so. What’s up there?’ You asked, turning your body towards him as he grinned.
‘Real tranquility. If you ever want to properly get away, that’s where you go.’ He told you and you looked back. ‘From up there you can see the whole city.’
‘But how do you get up there?’ You wondered and Haechan simply winked in response, tapping his nose twice to signal that he wasn’t going to tell you. ‘Will you ever actually tell me anything when I ask?’
‘We’ll see princess, we’ll see.’ Haechan grinned, turning back to the river but at some point having moved closer to you, so close that your legs were almost touching.
Your heart was pounding, yet you weren’t sure if it was from the nickname or the close proximity of the two of, or both. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you had a strong suspicion it was the latter.
---
Before you knew it, another month had passed in your new city and you weren’t feeling so much like the obnoxiously new kid. You knew your way around without getting lost, your professors had started to get to know you and stopped treating you like you were made of glass because you were new, and you had a good group of people around you.
Haechan had easily become your closest friend, his constant teasing covered a layer of love that it took him a while to show to you. But once he did, you were constantly smothered by his affections. And if Haechan wasn’t smothering you, then Jaemin would be. Once you got to know him, Jaemin was almost too nice for his own good, his caring and loving nature making him a very easy person to get along with. There was never an awkward moment between the two of you and already, he felt like a friend you’d known for years.
Apart from those two, you had also become friendly with Momo from your sports class, Hyunjin from Chemistry, Siyeon from History and Dino from Music. But none of them really held a candle to how close you were with Haechan.
You found yourself spending most of your time with Haechan, Jaemin often came too but you realised pretty quickly after befriending him that, wherever you were, Haechan would find a way to be there too.
Your friendship hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the school either. In fact, you were surprised by how quickly it had gone around that the two of you were close. The day after you had gone out for a coffee, you had walked into school to be greeted with confused stares and hushed whispers surrounding you everywhere you went.
You did your best to just ignore them, you told yourself you couldn’t care less what people here thought of you, it wasn’t as if you would be here for long anyway. Their whispers and accusations sometimes got to you slightly, but every time you finished your classes and saw Haechan waiting for you with his sunshine smile, you found all your worries melting off you.
You had always met some pretty cool people wherever you went, but you had never met anyone quite like Haechan, nor had you ever expected to. You already knew that he was something you would miss about this town when you inevitably left.
‘Bye Dad!’ You shouted through your house, a similar response coming from his study as you walked out of the front door. Even though you didn’t have class until late morning on a Tuesday, you and Haechan made it a tradition to grab a coffee together before it started.
And as you turned around there he was. Leaning out of the open window of his car grinning at you.
You smiled back in greeting, before climbing into the passenger seat, grabbing that aux cable he had offered you, and setting down as he took off.
Haechan had officially entrusted you with the music, naming you the car DJ much to Jaemin’s discontent. You were often on the receiving end of his whiny complaints about the injustice and unfair treatment he was getting.
Haechan pulled into the street that your favourite bakery was one, parking his car swiftly before you both made you way into the shop. You had arrived a little later than usual due to traffic, so you quickly approached the counter.
You leant forwards, catching the barista’s attention and gave them a smile before telling them your order.
‘Hi! Please can I have one Caramel Frap with coffee, one chocolate chip cookie, one Doubleshot Vanilla Iced coffee and one brownie please?’
The barista nodded, handing you the card machine as you quickly tapped your phone before Haechan could complain. You turned around, expecting to see him watching you in surprise, but instead he was nowhere to be seen.
The barista handed you the cookie and brownie in a bag before they moved to make your coffees as Haechan jogged into the shop.
‘Left my phone in my car.’ He explained before moving towards the counter.
‘Here.’ You said, offering him the bag which held his brownie. ‘Your coffee is on the way.’
Haechan reached for the bag slowly, confusion all over his face as he looked inside it.
‘I got you a Doubleshot Vanilla Iced coffee.’ You informed him, relishing in the way his face lit up with excitement at the mention of his favourite drink.
‘Why- You didn’t have to do this!’ Haechan whined. ‘I’ll pay you back!’
‘No you won’t.’ You said firmly, ignoring his protests. ‘I never paid you back for the first time we got a coffee together so this counts for then. Now we’re even.’
‘How did you know what to get me though?’ Haechan wondered, looking up at the menu.
‘I remembered?’ You offered, laughing at him slightly. ‘Plus you mentioned it to me a couple of days ago that it was your favourite so I thought it was safest to go with that one.’
You head turned towards the counter as your name was called, signalling that your drinks were ready. You walked over to collect them, missing the way Haechan watched you go with the softest smile on his face.
You handed him his drink as the two of you made your way back to his car.
‘Ready for class?’ You asked, groaning slightly at the thought of your history lecture that was looming.
But he didn’t reply, instead just looked at you. You tilted your head in confusion at him, wondering why he wasn’t starting the car.
‘Haechan?’ You asked and something in him seemed to wake up.
‘Hyuck.’ He corrected, turning away from you and beginning to drive away. ‘Call me Hyuck.’
You couldn’t help the small smile that spread across your face as you cruised through the streets.
‘Hyuck...’ You repeated to yourself under your breath, unaware of the way that Hyuck’s lips twitched upwards into a smile slightly as you did.
---
For the next two weeks you fully utilised your new privilege, calling him Hyuck at every opportunity you had. You also couldn’t stop yourself because every time you called him Hyuck, he would turn around to look at you with the largest grin on his face. There was no lying that both of you were happy with the rapid speed the two of you were becoming so close you were almost inseparable.
You were lying in your bed on Friday night, your chemistry textbook and worksheets from hours ago lay abandoned on your desk as you stared up at your ceiling. Your final lecture had been cancelled, so you originally planned to come back and try to get some work done. Only, once you started did you realise that your mind was just a fuzzy mess and there was no way you were going to get through it.
Instead you decided to go to sleep, hoping that some rest would help you clear your head and you’d feel more refreshed the next morning. However, your attempt to get an early night for once was disrupted by your mind and body purely refusing to let sleep take you.
You groaned, rolling over on to your side and staring at your clock. The numbers shined brightly in your face, the red 2:08am reflecting off your eyes as you stared at them. Turns out it was Saturday morning.
You were just about to give up and go downstairs to watch something, when you noticed your phone screen suddenly light up. You grabbed your phone and lifted it to your face to see a text sitting on your home screen.
Hyuck: yo
Hyuck: are you awake
You grinned at your phone, texting back a quick reply.
You: yeah
You: couldn’t sleep. why
Hyuck: come outside
You furrowed your eyebrows at that, silently moving to your window and pulling the curtains back. You looked down at your drive and saw Hyuck’s car sitting there with him in the driver’s seat staring up at your window. You made eye contact with him and he nodded towards his empty passenger seat. You held up a finger, asking him to wait a minute, and you shut your curtain again.
You quickly grabbed a pair of shoes and ran out of your bedroom, making sure to grab your keys on your way. You made your way through your house, leaving a quick note for your dad in case he woke up and thought you had disappeared, and slipped as silently as you could out of your front door, jogging down to the car that was waiting for you.
‘God it’s cold out there!’ You exclaimed, rubbing your arms to warm yourself up as you directed the heaters in his car towards you.
Hyuck raised his eyebrows at you, replying sarcastically.
‘Well, maybe if you’d worn more than a thin t shirt in October this wouldn’t be a problem.’
You looked down at what you were wearing, huffing when you realised he was right. Your choice of pyjamas, a t-shirt and jogging bottoms, while comfortable, were not doing much to battle the cold night air. You opened the door to run back inside and grab a jumper but Hyuck stopped you.
‘Don’t worry, I had a feeling you would do this, so I came prepared.’ He leaned backwards, reaching into his back seat and pulled out a hoodie of his before dropping it into your lap. ‘Here, wear this.’ He told you, quickly turning his attention back to his car as he got it started.
You looked down at the hoodie in your lap, unable to stop yourself from smiling slightly, and you whispered a quick thanks. You pulled it over your head, allowing yourself to be submerged in the soft fabric. The first thing you noticed was Hyuck scent taking over your being. You were surrounded by him and it was much more comforting than you were expecting.
Unknown to you, Hyuck found himself unable to take his eyes off you. Seeing you in his hoodie made his heart beat a lot faster than he was willing to admit, and, if he was being honest, he didn’t want you to ever take it off.
Hyuck began to drive and you found yourself automatically reaching for the aux cable. You decided to play one of your favourite songs that you hadn’t heard in a while, and soon ‘(Un)Lost’ by ‘The Maine’ gently filled the car, immediately reinforcing the relaxed atmosphere.
‘You hungry?’ Hyuck asked, and you shrugged slightly.
‘I could go for some ramen to be honest.’ You replied. ‘What’s going to be open at this hour though?’ You looked out of your window and found yourself filled with confusion. ‘Where even are we?’
‘Somewhere I like to come when I can’t sleep.’ He answered you. ‘Also, don’t worry, I know a place to eat.’
You hummed in response, trusting Hyuck’s judgement when it came to food. You had learnt that he always knew the best places. You couldn’t help the feeling of deja vu you were having, flashbacks to the time you and Hyuck first got coffee together and he refused to tell you where you were going, travelled through your head.
You stared out of the window, trying to recognise any of your surroundings, but you were on an empty road with trees on either side of you. If you weren’t with Hyuck you would have been terrified.
Eventually, he began to slow down, and you spotted a neon lit diner to your right. Hyuck drew the car to a halt and you both climbed out. He noticed the slightly nervous look on your face as your eyes darted across the dark woods surrounding you, and held out a hand. You smiled shyly, reaching out for him. The second you felt his hand in yours, you immediately relaxed and allowed Hyuck to pull you towards the diner.
A small bell sounded, signalling your arrival as Hyuck pushed the door open, and a man who you assumed was around mid-twenties appeared from the back. One look at the two of you and his face lit up into the biggest smile.
‘Donghyuck! Welcome back!’ He exclaimed, throwing his arms out to the side for emphasis.
‘Hi Johnny.’ Hyuck laughed, bringing you forwards as the tall male came around the counter to give him a hug. He pulled away from the hug and turned towards you. ‘Johnny, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Johnny, he runs this diner.’
‘Ahhhh, so this is the famous y/n!’ Johnny laughed, turning towards you. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you.’
‘It’s nice to meet you too.’ You replied, slightly taken aback at how nice this guy was.
‘So the usual?’ Johnny asked Hyuck and he nodded in response. ‘Anything for you, y/n?’
‘Surprise me.’ You said, having no idea what this place even offered, and Johnny nodded, his large smile never leaving his face.
‘Oh, Taeil is in the kitchen tonight if you want to say hi.’ Johnny said, turning back to Hyuck. Hyuck’s eyes lit up at the mention of Taeil and he turned to you, telling you he’d be back in a second.
‘Don’t rush, Hyuck.’ You laughed. It was clear from Hyuck’s expression that he hadn’t seen this Taeil in a while.
‘Tell him the order while you’re there?’ Johnny shouted, getting a shout back in reply. Johnny chuckled to himself, offering you a seat by the island and sitting next to you. ‘You know, Donghyuck talks about you a lot when he’s here.’
Your eyes shot up to his, your eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise and he nodded.
‘Yeah, you must mean a lot to him. Not only are you wearing his hoodie and you get to call him Hyuck, but he brought you here. That’s something...’
‘What makes you say that?’ You asked, sending Johnny an appreciative smile as he poured you a glass of water.
‘This is his safe space, the place where he comes whenever he wants to escape. Mainly from other people.’ Johnny gestured around him, and you followed his movements, your eyes resting on the seats, tables and jukeboxes that decorated this place.
‘I don’t get it, why would that make me important to him?’ You asked, looking at Johnny once more.
‘Well, most of the time, when you want to escape from something, you don’t bring the thing you’re running from with you. Donghyuck has never brought anyone here, not even Jaemin, and those two grew up together. So for him to bring you here, you must be something pretty damn special.’
You were speechless by the time Johnny had finished. You had been completely unaware of just how much Hyuck had cared for you. You weren’t even aware of the smile that was stretching across your face until Johnny chuckled.
‘I can see he’s special to you too.’
You looked back at him and nodded.
‘I...’ You swallowed slightly before speaking again. ‘I wasn’t expecting to care for someone this much.’
Johnny lifted up a hand, placing it on your shoulder and squeezing gently. You found the gesture surprisingly reassuring and you sent him a grateful smile.
‘For what it’s worth, you two make a good pair.’ Johnny said. ‘I’m glad he’s found someone he cares for this much.’
At the moment a laughing Donghyuck came bursting back through the kitchen doors, quickly followed by a slightly shorter male who you assumed was Taeil. Taeil looked up and saw you.
‘This is y/n?’ He asked Hyuck, who nodded in confirmation.
You stood up to greet him, placing your water on the counter as you did so.
‘It’s nice to meet you.’
‘You too, I’m Taeil.’ Taeil introduced himself, and you smiled at him.
Hyuck held up two boxes of ramen, the smell making your mouth water.
‘Shall we?’
---
You sat on the hood of Hyuck’s car and looked out over the skyline. The entire city was illuminated, the lights shining through the darkness and creating bright patterns in the night. You were mesmerised by the sight in front of you, the beauty of the twinkling lights demanding your attention.
The two of you were currently at the look out point which Hyuck had pointed out to you the day you had first met. It was a cliff edge that you could drive to, and it was only a couple of minutes away from the diner.
Your trip to the diner has been surprisingly entertaining. It was clear that Johnny and Taeil had known Hyuck and each other for a long time, but they made sure to welcome you and make sure that you felt comfortable. They wanted to know about the previous places you’d been to and any stories of your life or previous schools that you wanted to share. There was never an awkward moment, the three of them being so quick witted with their humour that you were in stitches the entire time. It felt as though you had spent the past half an hour laughing with old friends.
You didn’t know how long it had been since you’d felt an environment like that.
Hyuck was silently watching you, studying the reflection of the city lights in your eyes and wondering what was going through your mind. He eventually forced himself to tear his eyes away from you and back to the scenery in front of him. This view was normally the only that could set his mind at ease no matter what he was feeling, but after today, after seeing you interact so well with the friends he called his family, after seeing how beautiful you looked in his hoodie, how ethereal you were sat on his car in the moonlight... all Hyuck wanted to do was kiss you.
‘I’ve got to say, out of all the places I’ve lived, this is my favourite view.’ You softly broke the silence and Hyuck found his gaze wandering back towards you again.
‘Can I ask you something?’ He asked and you hummed in response. ‘How many places have you lived?’
You turned your head towards his and thought for a second.
‘Honestly... there’s been so many, I don’t think I could tell you the exact number.’ You told him. ‘I’ve moved around since I was a kid, we rarely stayed anywhere longer than one year before we headed to a new city which always seemed to be as far away from the previous one as you could possibly get. My dad’s job requires him to move wherever the company asks him to move, so we’ve never really had a choice. It’s nice, I guess, I get to see all these amazing places and travel so much already, but...’ You trailed off, unsure whether to continue.
‘But?’ Hyuck encouraged, looking at you with nothing but support in his eyes.
‘But it’s hard.’ You admitted. ‘People don’t really see how difficult it is. Everyone sees me as the lucky one, they tell me they wish they could travel like me, and see all the things I’ve seen. Someone even once told me that they wished they could only live in one place for one year before moving on, because then they wouldn’t have to worry about caring for anyone but themselves. Sometimes, for me, it really feels like that. But that it’s a good feeling. I’ve never lived anywhere longer than a year. I’ve even never lived anywhere long enough to call it home. I’ve never had a friendship, or relationship of any kind for that matter, that didn’t end a month after I moved away.’
‘You have your parents though, right?’ Hyuck asked, and you nodded in response.
‘Yeah, I have my dad. My mum, umm, she-’ You paused for a minute to take a breath. ‘She didn’t like the constant moving, she always said she found it too difficult. So, when I was nine, she decided she wasn’t going to move on with us. One night, she packed her bags, walked out the house and never came back. I haven’t seen her since.’ You confessed. You had never told anyone that, yet somehow, it felt safe to tell Hyuck.
‘I’m sorry.’ Hyuck offered and you sent him a smile.
‘It’s okay, it was a really long time ago.’ You tried to reassure him, even though you knew it wasn’t very convincing. ‘Moving like this... it’s a lot more lonely than you think it is.’
Hyuck moved himself slightly closer to you so that you were almost touching. He lifted his hand, and gently tucked your hair behind your ear before cradling your face.
‘You don’t have to be alone here. I’m going to be right beside you.’ He promised, the sincerity in his voice scaring you slightly. You knew that he meant it with every fibre of his being.
You didn’t know who leaned in first, nor did you care, but, either way, the two of you began to lean in. Your lips were almost touching when you stopped. Hyuck, noticing your movements, stopped immediately as well, his lips so close that his breath was gently fanning your face.
‘I’m leaving at the end of this year.’ You whispered, not moving away from him.
‘So we have two thirds of it left.’ Hyuck argued, his thumb gently stroking your face.
‘I’ll break your heart.’ Your voice was even softer than before, wavering slightly with emotion as your eyes fluttered shut.
‘It’ll be worth it.’ Hyuck whispered back, before you allowed him to finally close the distance.
He pressed his lips to yours, it was sweet, innocent and everything that a first kiss should be. You lifted up your hand to rest them on his wrists as he pulled away. He moved his hands away from your face and brought them down to your waist, pulling you closer and you wound yours around his neck.
You leant in again, this time kissing him with more passion. You were so overwhelmed with how much Hyuck cared for you, and how much you cared for him that all you wanted to do was show him, and this was the only way you knew you. Neither of you said it, but you both knew this was the start of your relationship, a secret kiss in a hidden place, with only the stars in the sky as your witnesses. And, honestly, it couldn’t be more perfect.
---
You closed the front door as quietly as you could, wincing as the lock audibly clicked into place. You briefly stopped to grab the note you had written for your dad before leaving and scrunched it up into a little ball before throwing it away. You then began to make your way through your house, tiptoeing silently past your dad’s room before making it into the safety of your own.
You fell into bed, pulling the covers up and smiling happily into them. No one had ever made you feel this way, and you couldn’t imagine ever feeling this way about anyone else.
There was something about Hyuck that made you want to just do things. Not in a “throw caution to the wind and cause chaos” kind of way, but in a motivational kind of way. He made you want to work harder, to fight for what you want, to always give people a chance to see the real them, to say yes more.
You couldn’t imagine what your life would be like if you hadn’t followed him out of the window on the first day. And if you could do it all again, you knew, you wouldn’t change a thing. You pulled the sleeves of Hyuck’s hoodie down over your fingers as you found yourself, once again, comforted by his scent.
It was only then that you realised you had forgotten to give it back, quickly reaching for your phone to text him.
You: i still have your hoodie
Hyuck: keep it for now
Hyuck: you can give it back to me at school on monday
Hyuck: or you can wear it
Hyuck: actually no
Hyuck: please wear it
You: i promise
You: night hyuck x
Hyuck: night
Hyuck: sleep well <3
---
You had kept your promise to Hyuck, wearing his hoodie into school and you were blown away by the amount of attention it had gathered. You would have thought that people would have more interesting things to talk about, but the main conversation topic in the corridors for the past week, was yours and Hyuck’s relationship.
Today was the Wednesday of the week after that Monday. You had a single lecture in the afternoon, while Hyuck was stuck in school until the end of the day. You had never been happier to hear the bell ring, signalling your escape from the most painfully boring Chemistry lecture of your life. You exited the classroom, laughing with Hyunjin as you complained about the hell you had just been put through.
He waved you a friendly goodbye, one which you returned before you walked towards your locker. You placed your books inside it and closed the door, making sure to lock it shut. You turned around, almost jumping out of your skin when you spotted three girls waiting for you to finish.
‘Can I help you?’ You asked, confused beyond belief as to why they were silently standing by your locker.
The one in the middle spoke first.
‘We just want to look out for you honey. Haechan is bad news, and we don’t want you to get hurt.’
You frowned at them in disbelief, wondering why on earth they were telling you this. You had never even seen any of them around Hyuck before.
‘Yeah, he’s a bad boy for a reason and we’re just worried that you're blinded by his charms. We’ve all fallen for it at some point, and we don’t want you to get manipulated like the rest of us.’ The brunette on the left piped up as you rolled your eyes.
‘Ok, this is very.... weird. Also, it’s not really any of your business, so thanks for your concern, but I’m fine by myself.’ You picked your bag up from the floor, swinging it over your shoulder.
As if a switch had been pressed, the expressions on the girls faces changed in a flash. Gone were the sympathetic looks and wide eyes as judgemental gazes and cocky smirks replaced them.
‘I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not the golden girl. You’re not the exception to the rule, the one who’s going to be able to change him, so stop trying. You’re not that special. You’re wasting your time and you’re going to end up with a broken heart.’ The one of the right spat, surprising you with her sudden change of tone.
‘She’s right.’ The middle one took charge again. ‘He’s nothing more than a cigarette puffing, selfish asshole. Just remember, we’ll be here when it all goes to shit.’
They began to strut their way down the corridor, leaving a very confused you standing by your locker.
‘Y/n?’ A voice suddenly rang out. You turned towards the sound to see Jaemin coming towards you. ‘What was that all about?’
---
You sat next to Jaemin on a bench at the nearby park. You dragged him down the river to find a deserted area, before sitting down to explain what had happened. Jaemin had insisted that you talk him through it, not wanting you to feel alone.
‘-so they reassured me that it was going to fail, no matter what.’ You finished, staring at the river in front of you.
Jaemin didn’t respond for a minute, just watched you as you finished speaking. Eventually, he broke the silence between the two of you.
‘You know, something that comes with having a reputation like Hyuck’s, is that everyone puts their own spin on it. Everybody likes to come up with new things that he’s done or find a rumour that sounds like him and spread it. He’s been ignoring it for god knows how long, but that doesn’t stop it from happening. I’m not going to tell you how to feel, that’s not my job. However, I am going to tell you this.’
Jaemin readjusted his seating, moving so that he was facing you more. You mimicked him, turning your side towards the water.
‘Hyuck is brave, and self assured, and confident, and cocky, but, just like everybody else, he has his weakness. And for him, it’s love. He’s completely terrified of falling in love. When Hyuck slept around last year, he didn’t do it just cause he wanted sex, or cause it was a confidence boost to get those girls. He did it because he wanted company, because he was lonely. But, he could never let it be for longer than one night because then he was putting himself at risk.’
‘At risk of what?’ You asked, and Jaemin sighed before continuing.
‘Of getting attached, of catching feelings, of being vulnerable, of caring. Hyuck’s afraid of falling in love with someone because, if he does that, then there’s no turning back. He’s at their mercy, and no one will have the power over him that that person does. And that terrifies him.’
You nodded as Jaemin spoke, taking in every detail. When he finished you leaned back on the bench, this time staring up at the clouds as they passed. Jaemin had made a lot of sense and, although you would never admit it, you did understand his fear of being in love.
‘I care about him.’ You began as Jaemin looked back towards you. ‘I care about him a lot. But there’s this part of my brain that’s telling me he’s got a reputation for a reason. That this only has one ending and I’m kidding myself if I think I’m any different from the previous girls.’
‘You’re kidding yourself if you think you’re anything like them.’ Jaemin huffed. ‘And, if you’re going to think like that, if that’s going to dominate your mind, then honestly, you should spare Hyuck the pain. After everything, he deserves to actually have someone who loves him, not someone who doubts him. If you can’t see past his reputation, then it’s not fair to string him along.’
You could tell from Jaemin’s eyes that he meant every word. As soon as he said that, it was like a cloud had been lifted, clearing your vision. You leant forward, forcing him to look at you while you spoke truthfully.
‘I’m not going to judge him on his reputation. I don’t want to. I care about him, and that’s all that matters. And I don’t care about what other people think about him, because I know him.’
Jaemin nodded at you, a smile forming on his face.
‘Good.’ He looked down at his watch. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be meeting him at yours tonight?’ He asked, looking back up at you.
You pulled out your phone, checking the time and your eyes widened. You and Jaemin had spoken for a lot longer than you had thought, and at this rate, Hyuck was going to beat you back to your house. You stood up, thanking Jaemin before giving him a quick hug and running home to Hyuck.
---
One takeaway, four movies and three deep conversations later, Hyuck had fallen asleep. You quietly closed your laptop, placing it on the floor as you climbed out of your bed. You picked up the food containers, carrying them downstairs to the kitchen as you cleaned up slightly.
You dropped the takeaway boxes into the bin, before washing your hands. You thought for a second before grabbing two glasses, which you filled up with water and made your way back to your bedroom.
When you arrived, you spent a short amount of time standing in the doorway and just watched Hyuck sleep. He looked so angelic when he slept, all the stress and worries of the day melted off his features. You placed the water next to your side, moving around the bed to place the second one next to him.
You stepped forward, lightly grabbing the blanket and pulling it up to cover him with it. You lifted up a hand, placing it in his hair and you gently stroked it. He let out a contented hum in his sleep and you smiled down at him. You removed your hand, replacing it with your lips for a soft kiss on his temple and then proceeded to stand up and move around to your side of the bed.
You lifted up the covers and climbed in. Hyuck, as if sensing the sudden weight, rolled over, his arm finding its way around your waist before you had even laid down properly. His other one snuck underneath you, unnoticed by you until you lay down and found your head resting on it. Hyuck tightened his grip, pulling you close into his chest as you were surrounded by his embrace.
As much as you loved sleeping in his hoodies, this was by far the better option. You rested one hand on his chest, the other one winding around his waist and you curled up as close to him as you could.
You shut your eyes, letting your mind drift back to the conversation you had with Jaemin earlier, and the unprovoked attack from the girls in the hallway, and, easily, you came to one very solid conclusion.
The girls in the hallway may have been talking about Haechan, the rumours, the past mistakes and the persona, but you knew Donghyuck. You knew the boy that would stay up until 2am watching movies and chatting with you about life because you couldn’t sleep. You knew the boy that pulled you closer to him, even when he was fast asleep. You knew the real Donghyuck, and you were getting very scared that you were falling in love with him.
---
Time started to pass faster and, before you knew it, another month had passed. Your father had met Hyuck officially as your boyfriend and loved him. You had met Hyuck’s parents too, thankfully getting on their good sides even though they weren’t around much. You had managed to convince Hyuck to quit smoking, something that he had found surprisingly easy. Any time you asked how he did it, he’d claim that you were more addictive than any cigarette ever could be and give you a sweet kiss. Hyuck had been the perfect boyfriend to you, caring, fun, teasing and through it all, he still felt like your best friend.
You were preparing to head off and see him today. You grabbed your phone and keys before leaving your room and jogging down the stairs. You landed gently at the bottom and began to head straight for the door when you heard your father’s voice.
‘Y/n? Will you come in here for a minute sweetheart?’
You followed his voice into his study to find his standing by his desk, his phone in his hand.
‘Dad? Is everything okay? I’m meeting Hyuck in like ten minutes so I can’t be long.’ You said, checking your phone for the time.
Your father turned around to face you, leaning backwards so that he was sitting on the desk behind him.
‘Yes of course! Sorry, I’ll try to make it quick. Would you be happy to stay here for a bit longer than normal?’ He asked, getting straight to the point since he knew you had places to be.
‘Like this town?’ You wondered and your father nodded.
‘Yes, right here. In the same town and same house. Would you be okay with staying here for longer?’ You father spoke, this time raising his eyebrows in question.
‘How much longer?’ You asked, remaining suspicious and skeptical so that you didn’t get your hopes up.
‘Well, I’ve been offered a permanent position here, and I accepted it. So as long as you like.’ You jaw dropped at his words, unable to process what he was saying.
‘No more moving?’ You asked him.
‘No more moving.’ He confirmed and you burst out into a happy laugh, running forwards to hug him.
‘Oh my god, Dad that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!’ You gushed, pulling out of the hug to see his smiling face.
‘So you’re happy to stay here?’ He asked and you grinned back at him.
‘I think I’d be okay with that.’
---
You made your way through Hyuck’s house, stopping only to briefly wave at his parents, before arriving at his room. You could hear him talking inside, so you entered as quietly as you could. He turned around as you entered, smiling and coming towards you to place a soft kiss on your cheek before turning his attention back to his phone call. The smile hadn’t left your face since your dad had told you his news, and you couldn’t wait to tell Hyuck.
He walked towards his window while talking, clearly attempting to wrap up the conversation without being overly rude. You approached his desk, chuckling at the piles of papers and discarded assignments that lay on it. Hyuck never was one for keeping things neat. You tilted your head slightly as one piece in particular caught your eye.
You reached for it, pulling it out from the bottom of the pile and scanned the words, your heart sinking as you did. The title as the top stood out the most: “the to-DO list”.
As you read further and further down the page you saw name after name of different girls in the school, and next to them were a short list of pros and cons, and the number of points they were worth. There were even lines though some of the names with ticks next to them, which you could only assume meant that they were checked off.
You recognised Siyeon and Momo’s names, neither of them having a cross through, but you also recognised the names of the “Welcoming Committee”. They were the same girls who cornered you in the corridor to warn you about Hyuck, and you ignored them. All three of their names were on the list, and all three of them had lines through them.
When your eyes reached the bottom of the page, your heart stopped. You forgot how to breath and you felt as though time suddenly stood still. You stared at the final name, the latest addition to the list that had the highest points and a bright red line through it.
Y/n Y/l/n - 150 points
Pros: new kid, gullible, not around for long, won’t stay to cause you trouble
Cons: defensive, needs effort to be worn down, not as easy as previously assumed
You stared at your name, the tears that filled your eyes blurring it slightly, but not making it any less real. This was a game. Hyuck and his friends were playing a game about who could get the most of the girls. You were just a target to him, something to tick off his list. And he had.
You registered Hyuck hanging up the phone and you furiously blinked away your tears.
‘Sorry about that. I was trying to-’ Hyuck stopped talking mid-sentence, his phone falling from his grip in shock when you turned around with the list in your hand. His eyes shot from the paper to you again, but one look at your face told him everything he needed to know.
‘What’s this?’ You whispered, holding up the piece of paper for him to see.
You watched as Hyuck’s jaw dropped and fear and panic took over his features. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish out of water.
‘What is this?’ You asked again, articulating every word. ‘Please tell me it’s not what I think it is. Tell me that this isn’t some sick game, that- that I’m just some game to you.’
You watched as Hyuck struggled to form a reply, obviously lost for words at what was happening.
‘I swear to god Hyuck, you better tell me the truth right now or I am gonna walk out of that door and I am not coming back.’ You kept your head up, refusing to let him see how affected by this you were more than he already had.
‘Tell me!’ You shouted, your temper flaring as your patience ran thin.
That seemed to finally get through to Hyuck, his eyes snapped towards your face as he stuttered out some weak reply.
‘No- no- no it’s -it’s not what you... No y/n I don’t... I can’t explain it I just-’ Hyuck looked at you, his eyes full of desperation but you couldn’t find it in you to feel sympathy for him.
You let out an empty laugh, one of pure disbelief at your own foolishness. You couldn’t believe that you really thought you were important to him. It’s Lee Donghyuck for Christ’s sake. He has a reputation for a reason. What made you think you were special enough to break that?
You swallowed, lifting your eyes to Hyuck’s once more and realised that you didn’t know a thing about the boy who stood before you. You opened your mouth and, with a shaky voice, you spoke.
‘You know, I was told by so many people that I wasn’t the exception to the rule, I wasn’t the golden girl, I- I wasn’t the one who could change your ways or prove that you were more than just a cigarette puffing, leather jacket wearing, selfish ass hole. But, god... I really hoped I was. And for a minute there, I actually believed it... you actually let me believe it. Maybe that’s why this hurts so much.’
‘Y/n please-’ He began, reaching out for you with one arm but stopped cold at your next words.
‘Save it, Haechan.’ Your use of Haechan instead of Hyuck struck Donghyuck right to his core. You hadn’t called him Haechan in the two months since he’d given you permission to use Hyuck, instead taking pride in the fact that you were close to him to not only call him by his real name, but by his nickname. When you used Haechan, he felt as though someone had picked up a blade of ice and driven it straight into his heart.
He had no idea why this was hurting him so bad. He knew from the moment he walked in and saw that look on your face that something was wrong. He never liked seeing you upset, but watching that door slam behind you, he never would have been able to presume that him being the cause of your upset would have been so heart wrenching.
There’s something about knowing that you’re the reason that the person you love most in the world is crying, that can rip a man’s heart in two. And for the first time in his life, Donghyuck began to experience what heartbreak was like.
---
You ran out of the door, tearing down the streets as fast as the tears were running down your face. You felt small, you felt ridiculous, you felt humiliated, you felt as though you were five years old again. And all you wanted to do was run away.
The irony was impossible to ignore. Your entire life, you had hated moving. Always leaving everyone behind, allowing them to forget you and forcing yourself to forget them. Every city, town or village you had lived in, you had wanted to stay, make friendships that would last a lifetime, fall in love, grow old in the same place you grew up, but you never could. Now for the first time in your life you were finally staying in one place, a place that you were supposed to call home, and yet, you wanted nothing more than to leave it.
---
‘Ok, I’m just going to say it. You’ve done a lot worse to a lot of other girls and you’ve never had this severe of a reaction before. Why now? What’s so special about this one that she’s the reason you’re suddenly experiencing the feeling of guilt?’ Jaemin leaned forwards towards his friend, hoping to finally get a solid answer out of him.
Jaemin had received an SOS text from Donghyuck and immediately moved to meet him at the local bar. He was currently sat across from the aforementioned, watching as his friend had a mini meltdown in front of him. This was the most emotional that Jaemin had seen Donghyuck in a while, and he knew that there was something about you that Donghyuck was refusing to admit.
‘I don’t know, but when I was standing there, looking at her face as these tears began to fall... all I wanted to do was to run up to her and wipe them away. To hold her and reassure her that... that I’m going to be the one to protect her from harm, not cause it, that I’m going to be the one who she’s safe with, the one who provides her comfort, the one who...’ Donghyuck trailed off at the end leaving Jaemin unable to catch what he was saying.
‘Alright, so here’s my next question: Why didn’t you?’ Jaemin raised an eyebrow at Donghyuck’s moping figure as his head shot up.
‘Why didn’t I what?’ Donghyuck questioned, too tired and emotionally worn out to actually think through what he was being asked.
Jaemin rolled his eyes so hard that he thinks he actually saw the one remaining braincell of his that had survived this conversation, the rest of them choosing to jump ship and abandon him.
‘Why didn’t you go elephant hunting? What do you think?! Why didn’t you do all those things you wanted to? Why didn’t you tell her how much she means to you?’
Donghyuck paused for a minute, thinking back to when he saw you standing there, completely vulnerable, with all your walls down for just him to see.
‘I was scared...’ He admitted, looking up at his friend slowly. ‘I’ve never felt like this before and I don’t know what it means to do this kind of stuff and be good at it. What if I told her the truth and she didn’t feel the same? What if I scared her away when I told her how I felt? I was scared that she wouldn’t want anything to do with me if I told her I loved her.’
Jaemin didn’t respond for a second, his mind taking it’s time to wrap around the fact that Donghyuck was in love. He knew that you meant more to Hyuck than he had ever let on, but Jaemin never would have expected for his friend to have fallen in love with you.
‘Donghyuck... I don’t think you’ll lose her if you tell her you love her. But I do think you may lose her if you don’t.’ Jaemin watched Donghyuck’s expression change as the realisation of the reality of Jaemin’s words dawned on him.
‘What do I do Jaemin?’ He asked, begging to know how to get you back.
‘Do what you couldn’t before.’ Jaemin told him. ‘Tell her the truth.’
---
You could feel all eyes on you as you walked through the main gates the following morning. It was the first time you had walked in by yourself, Haechan having insisted on driving you every morning he could, so this seemed to alert people that there was something wrong.
You held your head high and refused to let them see how emotional you were, biting the inside of your cheek anytime you could feel your eyes begin to water slightly. If it were up to you, you would have stayed at home today, choosing instead to drown yourself in chocolate and chick flicks, but, unfortunately, your dad was working from home so you had to come in.
You made your way towards your locker, unable to avoid making eye contact with a couple of people along the way. You accidentally caught eyes with the trio of girls who you had become all too familiar with from their welcome when you arrived and their more recent “friendly” advice by your locker.
‘Aww hun, we tried to warn you...’ They crowded you, one of them stroking your hair and all of them effectively drawing all the attention towards you once more. ‘We wanted to protect you from this...’
You tensed up, irritated and a little creeped out by the unwanted contact.
‘Fuck off!’ You spat, pushing them away from you. They stepped forwards again, obviously trying to paint themselves as your saviours in front of the rest of the school who were watching.
‘Sweetie, we just want to help! We knew this would happen and-’
You cut them off, speaking quietly at them through gritted teeth.
‘You don’t know shit about what happened. Stop pretending like you care about me and go back to whatever it is that you do, and leave me alone.’
With that, just like it had in the hallway, the fake smiles and false pretences melted off the three witches, as they rolled their eyes at you before strutting away. Gossiping just loud enough for you to hear.
‘If she actually thought that relationship was real she’s such an idiot.’
‘I know! I mean, it’s Haechan for crying out loud, is she dumb?’
You screwed your eyes shut, resting your forehead against your locker as everyone else began to disappear from around you. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself and opened your locker. An envelope fell out of it as the door opened, the white paper landing on your feet.
You looked down at it in confusion, bending down to pick it up. You turned it over and examined the messy handwriting on the front. You immediately recognised it at Haechan’s and your eyes flew back to your locker, scanning it to see if he had left anything else. Your gaze focused on a bar of chocolate, which you pulled out and examined.
You nodded in disbelief. Did he really think that a bar of chocolate and a letter would make up for all that happened? When he couldn’t even look you in the face and give it to you himself? You grabbed your books, slamming your locker shut out of anger. If Haechan actually wanted to make amends, he should stop being such a coward and have the courage to face you himself to say whatever he wanted to. You weren’t going to give him an easy way out.
Before you headed to your class you stopped briefly to dump the letter and chocolate in a nearby bin, unaware of Donghyuck’s teary eyes watching you as you did so.
---
You walked into the local bar, exhausted from the long day you had just had and desperate for a drink. The bar was a college bar, but it was famous amongst students to turning a blind eye towards seniors that may not be of legal drinking age yet.
That day, you had found flowers on your desk in History, your favourite coffee waiting for you at lunch and another letter and chocolate bar in your locker by the end of the day. By this point, you were fed up with it. Everyone had been pointing at you and watching you the entire day, trying to figure out what had happened, and these gifts were not helping to keep you away from everyone’s prying eyes.
All you wanted was to just sit at a booth by yourself and think for a minute before walking home. Unfortunately, life in the form of a slightly drunk baseball jock had other plans.
‘Hey there.’ He approached you, getting a bit too close for comfort.
‘Hi.’ You greeted politely, moving away from him slightly, an infuriated sigh falling from your lips when he followed you.
‘Don’t run from me. What do you say that you and I get out of here okay?’ He purred, his face coming closer to yours so that you could smell the alcohol on his breath. You pushed against his chest, the alcohol coursing through his system worsening his balance making him take a few steps back. ‘Feisty... I like that.’ He began to advance again, making you quickly speak up.
‘Okay first of all, I just want to get a drink. Second of all, why would I leave when I’ve just arrived? Third of all, why would I leave with you?’ You turned away from him, rolling your eyes as you did so.
However, the message didn’t seem to go through his thick skull, with him pushing himself right up against you, his hand dangerously low on your back and he whispered into your ear, making your skin crawl.
‘You’ll pay for that later sweetheart.’
‘Hey!’ A different voice cut through and before you could register what was going on, an arm had wound its way around your shoulder and successfully pulled you away from the creep. ‘Back off.’
‘What do you think you’re doing, Na?’ The baseball player asked, his eyes narrowing as he noticed Jaemin pulling you away from him.
‘Spending some time with my friend, now beat it beefcake.’ Jaemin kept one hand on you, moving his arm off your shoulder but staying close so that you were comfortable.
‘Well, get in line I saw her first.’ He leant forwards to grab you again, as if you were some kind of prize that he’d won.
‘She said no.’ Jaemin said calmly, watching as the jock’s face screwed up in frustration as he lunged for you again, hitting Jaemin’s free hand as he reached out to stop the drunk from touching you.
‘That doesn’t matter.’ He began to raise his voice, the alcohol in his system fuelling his idiotic actions.
‘Allow me to explain, and I’ll use small words so you’ll be sure to understand.’ You had to stop yourself from smiling slightly at Jaemin’s words, his sass never failed to make you laugh and the fact that a couple of people in the bar had turned their heads towards the commotion made it even better. There was now an audience to watch as Jaemin obliterated the drunk baseball player in front of you two. ‘No means no. I understand that may be hard for you to understand, having taken so many hits to the head, but welcome to the 21st century you warthog faced buffoon.’
With that he turned away, making sure to keep himself between you and that jerk and guided you towards an empty booth as the jock was escorted out of the bar for uncivil behaviour. He sat down across from you and quickly whipped out his phone asking if you wanted anything.
‘I was originally planning on just getting something that wasn’t too strong but after that little experience I think I’ll take a vodka coke, thanks.’ You breathed, enjoying the safety of the booth that you were sat in.
Jaemin simply nodded, tapping away on his phone before putting it back into his pocket.
‘What do I owe you?’ You asked, reaching for your own phone so that you could pull up your mobile banking but Jaemin shook his head.
‘Why don’t you just get the next round?’ He proposed and you nodded in agreement.
‘Sounds fair.’ You trailed off after that, silence falling over the two of you as you tried to figure out what to say.
‘Thank you...’ You began. ‘For stepping in like that, he wasn’t backing down and I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.’ You were a little shaken up by it. Guys, especially drunk guys, had a tendency to be a bit gross and over comfortable but none of them had pursued and threatened you the way that guys had today.
‘Don’t mention it. He’s kinda famous for doing that kind of stuff, unfortunately people have just come to accept it. It’s fucked up.’ Jaemin chuckled. ‘People can get so used to seeing someone harass a woman that they begin to turn a blind eye.’
‘Yeah...’ You trailed off again, not sure how to respond.
Your drinks soon arrived, a waitress placing them down on the table in front of you. You reached out and grabbed the glass with your drink in as Jaemin picked up his. He lifted it to his lips and took a sip as you mirrored his actions with your own.
‘If you were meaning to catch Hyuck, he just left.’ Jaemin said suddenly, and you sent him a tight smile.
‘I wasn’t so don’t worry about it.’ You replied quickly, praying that this wouldn’t be the entirety of your conversation.
‘He misses you, you know?’ Jaemin continued softly, watching your face for any kind of reaction as you sighed.
‘Does he now?’ You muttered, staring into the dark brown drink in your hands.
‘Yes, y/n, he does.’ The certainty and clear frustration in Jaemin’s voice made you lift your eyes up to stare at him. ‘I’ve known Hyuck a long time and there’s something about you that’s stopped him in his tracks. He cares for you.’
‘He’ll move on. He always does, doesn't he? Soon he’ll stop wasting his money on the flowers or food and find his next girl to conquer. Don’t get mad at me for figuring out what was going on before he got the chance to pull the rug out from underneath my feet.’ You argued, slightly fed up that this was the only thing you could take about. You and Jaemin had always got along well so it upset and infuriated you that you had lost that relationship too.
Then Jaemin spoke again, this time the words that fell from his lips hitting you like a truck.
'Look, the list was never Hyuck’s idea to begin with, in fact he was really against it. The day you found it was the same day where he called our group to let them know that he was burning it, “it can only cause pain” were his words. The names that were crossed, weren’t crossed off by him. This old friend of ours, someone who we don’t speak to anymore after this, he heard about your relationship and gave Hyuck the list when he came back into town. Hyuck never wanted it, he never even looked at it once since he was given it, and he certainly didn’t care about it or use you just to cross your name off it. And the fact that you think that... y/n it’s killing him.’ He leant forwards as you averted your gaze, and forced you to look him in the eyes again. ‘Y/n, I've seen him work very hard to get girls and I've seen him work very hard to get rid of girls. I've never seen him work this hard to keep one around.’
And with that Jaemin stood, leaving the drink he barely touched sitting on the surface in front of you. You stared at it, not bothering to watch the boy leave as his last words swirled around in your head.
‘I’ve never seen him work this hard to keep one around.’
---
You stepped outside, shutting your front door behind you. You had arrived home from the bar to an empty house and having not felt like cooking, you decided to get a takeout. However, the one place you were really craving was only doing pickup so you had to walk there to order and get it. You pushed on the door, checking it was locked and then turned around, only to stop dead in your tracks when you found yourself face to face with Haechan.
The two of you just stared at each other, you refusing to speak first and, even though Haechan had practiced what he was going to say about a million times on the way over, all words had now left his mind. Eventually you just gave him a tight lipped smile and a nod and made to walk past him.
‘Wait! Y/n wait, please!’ Haechan called out and you slowed to a stop, lifting your eyes up to look at him once more. ‘I, um... I owe you an explanation.’
‘Really Haechan, you don’t have to it's pretty clear what was going on. It’s chill, we’re done and that’s fine. I’m just gonna do my thing and move on like I’d always planned and-’ You shrugged before getting cut off.
‘For the love of god y/n, would you please stop acting like everything’s fine and start dealing with your crap!’ Haechan snapped, causing you to look at him in shock. ‘Look, I’m sorry I snapped but... God, you don’t have to always pretend like it isn’t a big deal. You’re allowed to be upset about things. I hurt you, I know I did. You trusted me, confided in me, cared for me and I threw it all away, and it’s okay to be hurt by that. I’m not saying that I want you to feel hurt, obviously, but... not every has to mean nothing to you.’ Haechan was pretty much mumbling by the end of it, furious with himself for shouting at you when he was here to apologise.
‘Nothing? You think what happened meant nothing to me?’ You asked in disbelief. ‘Hyuck, when I saw that list, it was like everything I had ever thought, every reason I had ever had for keeping my walls up was proved true. I know it may seem like a small deal to some people, but it isn’t to me. It isn’t, okay? You lied to me, manipulated me for weeks, months even, and I feel like such an idiot. And don’t you dare think for one second that you mean nothing to me because the reason it hurt so much is because it was you. Nobody else has the power to hurt me and heal me like you do. And I keep my guard up, I keep my walls up, even when I’m upset, especially when I’m upset, because I don’t want someone to know what power they have over me. Because... if they see how much I care about them, how much I love them, what’s stopping them from using that against me? Once someone knows about it, I don’t have control over it anymore. Once someone knows about it, my heart is completely in the hands of, and at the mercy of, the person I love.’ You ranted, the tears in your eyes gathering rapidly as you tried with everything you could to blink them away. You never told people the truth about how you felt, scared about how they would react to the real you. In fact, telling Hyuck this was terrifying.
Hyuck stared at you with wide eyes, his expression, for once, was unreadable.
‘Love?’ He asked, hope reaching out across his face as you finally managed to get a read on him.
You swallowed, the fear that you had previously been trying to explain began to bubble up as you forced it back down.
‘Yes Hyuck, love...’
‘You’re calling me Hyuck...’ He pointed out, his voice just as soft as yours.
‘I guess I am.’
‘Do you love me?’
Your eyes shot up at his question, leaving their previous view of the tarmac of your drive and instead settling on Donghyuck’s brown eyes, ones that were currently glistening with tears.
‘Does it matter?’ You whispered. ‘It’s not going to change anything. It all still happened.’
‘But it didn’t! Well, it did, but I never wanted it to happen in the first place. I never wanted anything to do with that stupid list! I told him it would only hurt people and now I’ve gone and hurt the one person that I truly love and it’s not fair!’ Your eyes widened at his words, unable to process that fact that he just said love. Hyuck began to wind his hands through his hair as he continued his angry rant that wasn’t really directed at you but rather anyone who would listen. ‘I burnt it. I burnt the fucking list but it was too late and now it’s all a mess and it’s my fault cause I should have burnt it when I first got it. I never even scratched a name off, I’ve only spent time with you this year and I only ever wanted to and I want only you now and I’m not making sense anymore and-’
‘Hyuck!’ You interrupted, stopping him mid rant as his words began to turn to nonsense. His innocent doe eyes looked into yours and you refused to break eye contact. ‘Love?’ You asked, repeating Hyuck’s question from before.
You wanted as his demeanour completely changed. He forced some air into his lungs, dropping his shoulders as he took a deep breath. He lifted his head and locked eyes with you for the thousandth time that night, yet this felt very different. There was something in his gaze that held you captive, even if you had wanted to look away, you wouldn’t have been able to. Your eyes never left his, even as he began to speak and you saw the truth in his words through his sincere expression.
‘I’m not good at this. This kind of moment, this conversation where I admit how I’ve been feeling this entire time. I’m good with music, I’m good with food, I’m good with jokes and making people laugh, but... I’m really bad when it comes to looking someone in the eye and telling them how I feel. Especially if that means letting my walls down. I’m not here to tell you that I’m falling in love with you. I’m here to tell you that... I’ve already fallen. And I was terrified of falling for you, because it was so easy. The way you always remember my coffee order, or the way you drape a blanket over me when I fall asleep on the sofa, or the way that you made me care more about my life, about who I am and how I impact others. Loving you was so easy and that’s why it was so god damn terrifying. Because I couldn’t stop myself. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop myself from being in love with you. I am utterly, hopelessly, irretrievably in love with you. More than you’ll ever know. And for the first time in my life, that doesn’t sound so scary.’
By this point, the tears that had been previously threatening to fall were now steadily making their way down his face. You knew that you looked no better, your vision was blurry and your throat was tight. He refused to look away from you, not even to wipe the tears from his face, instead, he kept talking.
‘And I know that this doesn’t change anything. You’re still leaving at the end of this year, but that’s just over seven months away. And, even though I know how it’s going to end, I want those seven months with you. I do. I want them more than anything. And I will do anything it takes to earn your trust back.’
There wasn’t a single speck of doubt in your body that Hyuck was telling the truth. This wasn’t Haechan speaking, this was Donghyuck, vulnerable, emotional and broken Donghyuck talking to you from his heart, begging for your forgiveness and understanding. You found it impossible to tear your gaze away from him, your eyes glued to his as you tried to come to a conclusion in your mind.
No matter how many times the irrational part of your brain tried to convince you this was all a trick, some elaborate scheme that will end up with you getting your heart broken, you couldn’t hear it. It was outweighed by the sheer volume of every atom, every fibre of your being screaming out for the boy you loved, for Donghyuck.
‘Hyuck, I love you... But I don’t want you to have only seven months with me.’ You began. Donghyuck’s face quickly fell, as if accepting defeat and he sadly nodded. ‘I want you to have more than that. And I know that it doesn’t seem possible, because I’m moving, but, what if I wasn’t...’ You trailed off as Hyuck’s eyes filled with hope.
‘What are you saying?’ He asked, his lips twitching as he fought back a grin. He had never wanted anything more than he wanted you to be saying what he thought you were saying.
‘I’m saying, my dad got offered a permanent position here, and he took it. I’m not moving. I’m staying here, in the only place on earth I want to stay. Because, here, I get to be with you.’ You revealed.
A second passed as the revelation sank in and Donghyuck’s face split into the biggest smile you had ever seen on him. He rushed forwards towards you, his arms making their way around your waist as your bodies crashed into each other. You wound your arms around his neck, dropping your head into his shoulder and feeling him do the same. You breathed in, savouring the feeling of being wrapped in his embrace, the place you had missed so much.
Hyuck eventually lifted his head out of your neck, looking you deep in the eyes before he leant his forehead on yours and breathed out a soft:
‘I’ve missed you.’
You couldn’t stop the smile that grew on your face, nor could you stop your reply.
‘I missed you too.’
You pulled your forehead away from his, watching as his gaze flickered down to your lips and back up again, a questioning look in his eyes. You nodded, giving permission and Hyuck wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours.
You could have sworn fireworks went off. You had never understood that saying until that very moment, but right there, you felt an explosion of love that you hadn’t known was possible. You pressed yourself into him as his arms pulled you as close as possible until there wasn’t any space between your bodies.
You both pulled away to catch your breath, yet neither of you moved away from the other at all. You stayed just as close as you had been, with Hyuck’s arms never loosening from around your waist. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
‘I love you.’ He laughed, provoking a chuckle out of you too.
‘I love you more.’ You replied, grinning up at him as he raised an eyebrow at you.
‘Not possible.’ He answered back, his voice softening as he leant down to kiss you once more.
Hyuck kissed you again, and again, and again. He kissed you throughout the whole night, only stopping to whisper confessions of his love or to attempt to pull you closer to him than you already were. He came with you to pick up some takeout, he also insisted on paying, but even when waiting for the food, he held you tightly in a back hug.
He pulled your legs over his on the sofa at yours as he fed you your takeout while you watched a movie together. And he kept his tight grip on you as you went to sleep, tangled up together like vines, so intertwined that it seemed impossible to pull them apart.
Hyuck never ended up telling you why he held you so tightly that night. In his defence, you never really asked, and, as much as Hyuck allowed himself to be vulnerable and honest around you, this was something that he kept as his own little secret. As his own little confession. Whenever Hyuck was struggling, he just thought back to this night and how amazing it felt to finally have the girl he loved wrapped in his arms, with the knowledge that she will still be there when he wakes up.
He had finally found someone who he loved and would do anything for, and he never wanted to let you go.
---
Not even one month later, it was the Winter Formal. The school had decided to put a monumental amount of effort into it, hiring out a local ballroom and turning it into a winter wonderland, complete with fake snow, white trees, gentle lighting and sparkly white silk hanging around the room. You would be lying if you said that your breath wasn’t completely taken away when you walked in.
Yet none of it compared to the feeling of walking in with Hyuck on your arm.
Hyuck had surprised, not only you, but the entire school it seemed when he walked in with a smart suit on, a white flower in the pocket and green tie neatly around his neck. It seemed as though all eyes were on the two of you when you entered the hall, and you were sure that Hyuck’s look was something to do with it.
Of course he disagreed. He insisted that it was all to do with the green gown that you were wearing, claiming the way it hugged your figure in all the right places and the slit in the thigh made you look like a dream. Walking out of your house to meet Hyuck and seeing his jaw literally drop was a major confidence boost. That boy knew how to make you feel good about yourself.
You met your friends at the dance, and not even two minutes after arriving, were immediately pulled onto the dance floor by Jaemin.
‘You guys look good!’ He commented, flashing you his million dollar smile. ‘Probably the best out of everyone here. ’
‘Well we thought it was best to make an impression.’ You shrugged, grinning back at him.
Just as Hyuck opened his mouth to reply, your maths professor walked past, unable to stop himself from commenting.
‘Nice to see you finally put some effort into your appearance Haechan.’
‘Thank you sir. You too!’ Hyuck replied cheekily, before turning back to the two of you with a confused look on his face.
‘Was it just me or was that a little bit weird?’ He asked the two of you.
‘Just a bit, yeah!’ You replied, laughing as Jaemin agreed with you.
The music began to slow down and Jaemin, not wanting to get stuck in the masses of couples who were taking to the dance floor, said a quick goodbye before moving away.
Hyuck gently grabbed your hand with his, wrapping his other hand securely around your waist and pulled you in close to him. You rested your free hand on his shoulder and gently began to sway to the music.
The whole scene felt like something out of a movie. The soft lights were gently shining down on the two of you, making you feel as though you were the only two people there as the atmosphere surrounded you, enclosing you in your own little bubble. You found yourself getting lost in Hyuck’s eyes as the music faded slowly into the background, the sound of your heart beating for the boy in front of you overpowering everything else.
There really was nothing that you wouldn’t do for Hyuck. And, no matter what people told you, no matter what rumours you hear, you knew that you knew him. The real him. Not Haechan, not the bad boy cliche image that he puts up everyday, not everyone else’s perception of him as the kid who didn’t give a damn about anyone or anything. You knew Hyuck for who he truly was, all the good, the bad and the ugly. You had seen him at his highs and his lows, you trusted him with your heart and you knew he would never break it.
After all these years of moving and leaving things behind, you had finally found somewhere you could call home. Only it wasn’t a place. It was a person. And you knew that, as long as he was looking down at you with that much love in his eyes, you wouldn’t need any other home ever again.
Maybe senior year wasn’t just the best year of your life as everybody says it is, but also the beginning of the rest of it.
Roll credits.
#nct-writers#dreamwritersnet#nct#nct dream#nct 127#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct 127 x reader#haechan#haechan x reader#donghyuck#lee donghyuck#donghyuck x reader#lee donghyuck x reader#nct imagines#nct dream imagines#nct 127 imagines#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#haechan fluff#donghyuck fluff#lee donghyuck fluff#nct haechan fluff#nct donghyuck fluff#haechan angst#haechan imagines#lee donghyuck imagines#donghyuck imagines
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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 23 | S.R.)
Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |
Summary: Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)
Content Warning: Mild exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub, light choking, degradation/praise, sub space
Word Count: 7.3k
MASTERLIST
—————————————————
Waiting for Spencer Reid was an interesting position to be in. It was also, unfortunately, very, very common. You would think the IQ points would translate to efficiency, but you’d be very wrong. The only thing that boy does fast is read, and even that didn’t follow through to text messages, considering he’d read none of the six I’d sent him in the past hour.
So, naturally, as one does in an emergency, I called him. Unsurprisingly, the phone barely rang a second time before he picked up. Talking was, as we were both aware, his forte. Without even waiting for my greeting, his groggy voice came through the receiver with a song-like sound.
“Hello, little girl.”
But it wasn’t his turn to sing, and he knew damn well why I was calling. I could hear the smirk on his face so well that I could also envision exactly what he looked like in that moment, with his fluffy hair sticking up from constantly running his hands through it and his eyes only half-open as he tried to finish reading whatever horrible thing that he had in front of him.
It wasn’t how anyone should be spending their birthday. Especially not him. There wasn’t really anything I could do about it, though that didn’t make it any easier to hear the exhaustion and sadness behind that scratchy voice.
“What’re you doing up late? It’s past your bedtime, you know,” he chastised before I even had a chance to speak. He wasn’t wrong — It was 3AM where I was. But where he was, it’d just hit midnight.
“I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to my favorite old man,” I purred back once I’d managed to calm my fast-beating heart. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the brief rush of adrenaline and relief when I heard his voice for the first time after some time away.
I hoped not.
Spencer didn’t seem impressed by my reasoning, though.
“You’re sweet. Go to sleep.”
“You’re up, too,” I whined, still picturing the way he would undoubtedly pull the phone further away to lessen the noise. I almost asked if he was also picturing me but stopped when I realized that whatever he had in mind was probably a lot more exciting than reality. Then again, he often told me that moments like this were his favorite. When we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open but too happy to be with each other to let them close all the way.
“Barely,” he corrected.
“Besides, I had to stay up. It’s your birthday.”
I’d meant to lift his spirits, but the long pause after I finished made it evident that my efforts were for naught. He almost seemed even more upset than when he’d answered, and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that hard, considering he was probably staring at images or words of dead people.
“Yeah, sure feels like it.”
His tone alone ensured me it was worse than my imagination.
“Put your work down and pay attention to me instead,” I suggested as softly as I could with the neediness bleeding through, “That’s the first part of your present.”
“You’re my present?” he asked through a gruff laugh that made my heart skip a beat, “I like that present.”
He was trying. I could feel it in his voice, and I wished more than anything that I could teleport to where he was and hold him until it was too difficult for his mouth to form a frown.
“You already have me. That’d be like regifting,” I pointed out with only a pinch of self-deprecation. It was still too much for Spencer, though, who swiftly shot back the ever cheesy, “Every day with you is a gift.”
“Gross, don’t get all sentimental with me,” I ordered playfully.
He returned the energy with all the sass I always knew he was capable of. Once his whining ceased, he mumbled, “Do you come with a gift receipt?”
“No returns or exchanges allowed, I’m afraid.”
Spencer just let out a strained sigh, and in my head, I imagined how it would feel to climb onto his lap as he leaned back in his chair. I could almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist and his lips peppering kisses wherever he could reach. I could feel his love for me flowing across the country, persisting past the cell tower obstacles to make its way back to me.
“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered, his first purely sincere statement of the night.
It was an unfortunate choice, too, because it also reminded me of the biggest bummer that I unfortunately had to share.
“Oh, I meant to tell you, it’s midterm season, so…”
He was, thankfully, not as bummed as I was expecting. He was almost certainly thrilled to have a chance to sleep spread out on his bed without having to satisfy the very needy girl beside him, but he still managed to come up with enough bratty energy to scoff, “Are you telling me that I don’t get my gift when I get home?”
“It’ll just be a few days. Promise,” I spoke through the biggest, cheesiest smile I’d had yet. “You’re very distracting, Dr. Reid.”
“When are your exams?” His enthusiasm gave away just how disappointed he was with the news, but any frustration was clearly aimed at my poor professors.
“My last one is on Wednesday.”
The gasp that left him was too funny not to laugh, followed by exasperated, blubbered nonsense that didn’t ever get much clearer. I barely managed to understand him when he cried, “Don’t they know Halloween should be a national holiday?!”
“You should call my professors and yell at them.”
He actually considered it for a moment, but then returned the same silly intonation, “Maybe I will.”
“Do it. You’re probably more qualified than them to teach me, anyway.”
After a short silence that was filled with more sexual tension than I’d expected considering how the phone call started, I heard Spencer gruffly comment, “You’re a cocky little brat tonight.”
It was so familiar to me that I jumped on the opportunity, giggling through my sleep deprived delirium, “I’m in rare form for your birthday.”
The explanation earned me a chuckle, but not much else. At least, not that I could see. The static on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like the way it looked when Spencer leaned his face against his palm and tried to see something that wasn’t there.
But I was there. Sort of. We’d done a lot more with a lot less, after all. So, that’s what I offered him.
“You know… we could have a redo of the last time I called you late at night on a case.”
“That did not end well for me last time,” he droned. I tried not to laugh at the manufactured memory of Spencer holed up in a hotel bathroom because he just had to have me in whatever way he could.
“Only happy endings for your birthday. I promise.”
But then, as it always did, work got in the way. Filled with only the greatest sadness and regret, Spencer quietly but honestly replied, “As much as I would love to, I don’t think it’ll be possible on this case.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Unfortunately.”
I bit my lip because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help Spencer with his work any more than I could fix the distance. All I could offer him was a safe home to return to. He would always find that with me.
“Well, in that case, I will be equipped with cartoons and kisses upon your return,” I offered with grace.
But I wasn’t the only one in rare form. Without skipping a beat, Spencer corrected with a smug sadness, “You mean your return. Considering you’re abandoning me on my birthday.”
“Oh my god, the drama!” I cried before remembering that it was, still, in fact, 3AM. The light grimace I gave after remembering would be the only apology my neighbors would get from me. I was too busy building a narrative happy enough to drown out the horrors in front of him. “You’d think I was the one who was away all the time.”
“I’m allowed to be selfish; it’s my birthday,” he sang, and I soaked in the sound, storing it away for any rainy days.
“Fine. What do you want, brat?” I asked in the worst attempt at an impression I’d ever given.
He was just waiting for the question. Drawing out the first couple of syllables, he laughed through the stupidest birthday wish of all time.
“I want… you to go to bed.”
“Ugh!” I yelled again, not even bothering to feel bad about it that time. My exasperation fell on deaf ears, both from a willful desire to ignore my suffering and a literal ringing from the constant yelling.
Still, that impossible man drummed up enough compassion to gloat with a simple, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, jerk,” I grumbled, only to be swiftly corrected with a playful, “Try that again.”
“I love you, too, old man.”
He was satisfied enough with that answer, despite the sarcasm dripping from it. He still knew that the words were true, and that was all that mattered. Any punishments that might be necessary for my broken promise to behave for his birthday could always be doled out later. When the distance between us was narrowed to inches and clothes could be removed like cheap wrapping paper.
“Thank you, little girl. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, reminding me once more of just how empty my bed felt without him. I stared at his pillow for just one second before I threw myself into it. He chuckled at the sound of rustling sheets over the receiver but said nothing else.
“You get some sleep tonight, too, okay?” I asked, uncharacteristically and openly vulnerable in a way that used to scare me.
Spencer’s voice was filled with pride and love as he answered, “You can’t see it, but I am giving you a pinky promise.”
“Good.” Burying my face in his pillow again made it easier to remember that it wouldn’t be forever when I said, “Bye, Spencer.”
“Goodnight, little girl.”
—————————————————
Autumn on campus felt pretty similar to the rest of the year. I wished that it were different, a little more exciting, to reflect how I felt about the impending holiday. But no, it was just students stumbling into their usual classes and hectically scheduled midterms with hangovers and a total lack of holiday cheer.
It was, in a few words, a complete bummer. The only thing that kept me going through the last of my exams was the knowledge that I’d be seeing Spencer. Unfortunately, he was still doing that rather annoying thing where he refused to answer my text messages. It wasn’t until he ignored even my most ridiculous threats that I realized something was going on.
The ‘Read’ notification sat menacingly on my screen, and I was so fixated on it that I almost didn’t notice the familiar mop of brown curls visible in the front row of the auditorium. But once I saw it, the phone was forgotten faster than ever before. I ran down the steps at a ridiculously dangerous pace, dodging the others still grumbling from their previous exams.
I landed in front of him with only enough breath left to sneer, “You’re in my seat.”
“Surprise,” he said with my favorite smug, self-assured smile.
“Adorable. Now move,” I ordered with a wave of my hand. As much as I loved the guy, I wasn’t about to change my seating arrangement for him. It was beginning to make sense, though, why my friend told me that she wouldn’t be sitting with me today.
“Fine,” he sighed, taking his sweet time moving seats and watching me happily bounce on my feet in the meantime. I snuck behind him into the seat before he’d even fully stood up. That little amount of friction between our bodies seemed to be enough to cause the tension to mount. It’d only been seconds, but I was already seriously considering abandoning the class. To hell with the professor who’d already seen me.
But Spencer’s eyes locked on mine, and he leaned onto the armrest with that same silly smirk.
“It’s a workday, Dr. Reid,” I whispered, forcing my arm next to his and watching the way his pupils grew as I came closer.
“I might have pulled a few strings,” he replied just as quietly, keeping the illusion of secrecy despite many prying eyes around us, “Might’ve told Hotch I was invited.”
“But you weren’t,” I snorted.
Spencer’s head hung in just a little bit of shame, but his wide smile never waned. It was still there, bright and pure in its simplicity as he softly admitted, “Yeah. I lied. But I’m here now.”
There were no complaints about that fact, either. His pinky reached out to mine, twining together in the dim light of the auditorium. Somehow, for a brief second, I forgot about everything else. The noisy chatter meant nothing to me, the two of us lost in some alternate pocket universe that felt safe and warm from the cold air outside.
But time resumed, and I watched as Spencer took his eyes off of me first, turning instead to the lecturer watching us with a knowing glint in his eyes.
“Good morning everyone! We have a special guest with us today.”
I wanted to pay attention to his little introduction, but I couldn’t. Every word that was said about him sounded so clinical. It felt so empty compared to the truth I knew about him. He was so much more than a collection of publications and PhDs.
He was… indescribable. Even as his mouth formed a flat line and his awkward handshake was granted to the crowds of disinterested students, all I saw was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even if it was only from the shadows of his greatness. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever let me feel that way.
Speaking of…
"Dr. Reid, the only thing I ask is for you to give these wonderful students a chance to show you what they know,” my professor started with a laugh before he so kindly continued, “So go easy on them."
In any other situation, I might have let it slide. I would have accepted the fact that Spencer was far beyond my intellect and not stand up for myself. But this time, Spencer was on my turf.
"All due respect to Dr. Reid, I don't think he needs to go easy on us,” I called from the front row, only audible to the other dutiful students that cared enough to sit up front. I heard Spencer laugh beside me, shaking his head just a little bit at the challenge. He didn’t say anything though, and I returned my eyes to the professor who was already familiar with my antics as I boasted, "At least not on me."
While Spencer caught on to the fairly obvious double entendre, shifting his crossed legs closer, the professor just wrote it off as my usual academic pride.
“I did try to warn you that that one might get competitive,” he commented. At this point, everyone had definitely figured out my relation to the man next to me. It was kind of hard to hide a bullet wound from your school. But again, I was so caught up in the man beside me that I didn’t even feel a little shame at their playful teasing.
Spencer’s commentary was the only thing that mattered, and he gave it with a dreamy sigh. "I'm not offended at all. I'm sure she's very clever."
The little bit of light left in the room started to fade, and once I was shrouded by the shadows, I felt confident enough in my plan to dig through the bag at my feet to pull out probably the nerdiest item in it.
A fucking back-up clicker. Which, I promptly handed to the man beside me.
“You’re in seat B4,” I whispered gruffly, earning yet another snarky chuckle from my boyfriend.
“Is that a challenge?”
I didn’t answer. Not him, anyway. What I did answer was the question that had appeared on the screen.
“Ms. (Y/n)?” My professor called, recognizing my seat number without even looking up.
Luckily for me, today was nothing but a review day of the midterm I’d already taken. While I knew all of the questions and, what I’d hoped were the right answers, Spencer had to read the questions from scratch. Really, it didn’t give me an edge. It just put us on equal playing ground.
As I gave my answer, I watched in my peripherals as Spencer’s eyes narrowed and tongue peeked out from lips that I still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss today.
It was a bad thing to think about, because my brief reverie of the things that mouth was capable of reminded me of another one. I didn’t even notice another question had appeared on the screen, and when I heard the familiar buzz of an attempted answer, I shared my Professor’s temporary confusion.
“Ah, Dr. Reid,” he laughed, probably already regretting welcoming the bastard here, “Please explain the answer.”
But there was another thing working in my favor: My boyfriend’s giant fucking ego. Really, it should be impossible that someone who was normally super insecure could enjoy showing off as much as he did. My professor didn’t mind, because Spencer’s long-winded answer was a wonderful review of… basically the entire course, and I didn’t mind because it granted me the one thing I needed.
Time. Time to slowly remove my jacket and reveal the sweater underneath. Spencer’s eyes caught the motion, glancing over only a couple of times while he managed to give his answer. It wasn’t until I started to remove the sweater that he cut his answer short.
His throat clearing told me he wanted my attention, but I was still just too distracted for him. I fanned my chest that felt warm for reasons other than the temperature of the room, guaranteeing his eyes would stay there long enough for me to catch the next question before he had a chance.
Or so I thought. Because before the question appeared, I made the positively stupid mistake of meeting his gaze. As soon as I did, my mind was stuck there, drowning in molasses and honey and—
“Dr. Reid, please feel free to continue to do my job for me. Lord knows I would love a break,” the professor joked, and I almost felt guilty for just how genuine he sounded. Not like Spencer would have noticed passive aggression if it existed.
Not like either of us would have cared. Per usual, we were so lost in the space of B4 and B5 that we didn’t care about the rest of the alphabet. All we cared about was winning. It was growing more and more obvious to me, though, that I would have to become a little more ruthless if I wanted to bring down the bona fide genius.
The sound of his voice rang through the auditorium loud, clear, and confident. He didn’t need to worry if he was right or not, because he knew he was. The smugness was grating to my ears. I knew I couldn’t trick him into making a mistake, but there was one thing I could do.
I’d learned one thing very well in my time with Spencer, and that was how to manipulate that pretty little voice of his.
For example, if I wanted to hear it catch in his throat and come out a few pitches higher, all I would have to do is touch him. The riskier the touch, the higher his voice would go. Which was why I spread out the jacket over my lap, making sure that our legs were close enough that it covered him, too. Then I waited, calmly and kindly listening to him drone along until there was a natural enough inflection to hide evidence of any nefarious actions. Just as his voice started to rise, I slid my hand over his knee.
Spencer barely stuttered, just enough for me to know he was affected, but not enough for anyone else to notice. He took the loss with grace, quickly ending his answer with a summary that contained only half as many words as he would have normally provided.
He kept a few for me.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shifting close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my ear.
“All’s fair in love and war,” I hummed. His breath caught again when I began stroking my thumb over his leg that had just started to bounce.
“This is wildly inappropriate.”
“How perceptive,” I returned with my own little smirk. The interaction caught us both, trapping us in the alternate dimension that existed when we held each other. His hand found its way to mine, and his thumb brushed over the back and sent goosebumps shooting over my skin.
I’d practically abandoned our pursuits altogether when I heard my friend’s voice as she took the question that we’d both missed. I should’ve been upset for losing after all that I’d gone through for my strategy to succeed, but it was hard to feel anything other than butterflies when Spencer was still looking at me like that.
Even when I looked away, he stayed, patiently waiting for me to take the final question in the review. I granted him a chance to take it, but he just shook his head, implicitly asking me to take the win for the both of us. Even when we were competing, we were always on the same team.
There were no more distractions as I explained the answer as simply as I could. I was positive the rest of the class was tired of hearing our voices, but Spencer never stopped smiling. I could feel the pride rolling off of him, his hand growing tighter around mine as he took in a deep breath.
“Very good, (y/n),” my professor announced, signaling the end and initiating a large sigh of relief from everyone else.
Spencer sighed too, although his was with a different kind of relief; a dreamy, soft sound as he muttered under his breath, “Just like I said. Very clever.”
The air felt positively electric, and I never hated my class more than I did in that moment. The rest of the period ticked by so slowly that I almost swore the clocks were broken. Once we were allowed to leave, Spencer insisted on sticking around to thank the professor for his hospitality.
I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I tried to be as patient as possible, even though it seemed pointless. Spencer’s little grin told me he knew very well what he was doing. The conversation had dragged on for practically five minutes of agony while I idled by the door.
But then my professor passed, and I felt the adrenaline course through my veins in seconds. As anticipated, we didn’t even make it out of the building before the tension broke. We’d barely even made it down the goddamn hallway before I shoved his scrawny ass into the first empty classroom I found. Once the door clicked shut behind us, the roles were quickly reversed.
I hadn’t seen him that excited in so long that I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in his undertow. I couldn’t keep track of his hands or his mouth as they marked any bare skin they could find. But no matter how frantic and uncoordinated the movements were, they never ceased to send chills down my spine.
“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” I managed to slur between sloppy, heated kisses. It was barely comprehensible through the pent-up lust that had driven us there in the first place, but it still felt worth saying.
Spencer, however, made his feelings very clear with a gruff, forceful, “I don’t care.”
His hands were already roaming over my hips, pulling me so close to the edge that I nearly fell off the counter entirely. While I was laughing at his haste, he was busy leaving angry marks on my collarbone, pulling the top of my shirt down to grant him more access. And despite how badly my body burned with desire and need, I drummed up just enough self-preservation to force out a few, regrettable words.
“Take me home.”
Even though I tried to make it sound more seductive than a normal request to stop, it brought the momentum to a halt. Spencer immediately stopped his kisses, but let his hands continue to stroke loving patterns over the sides of my thighs.
“Don’t you have other classes?” he asked. The feeling of his breath against my ears making me second-guess my already voiced decision. But as enticing as the idea was of having him now, having already waited over a week, I knew we could have so much more fun with a little bit of privacy.
“Don’t you have work?” I teased, hoping that it would spur him to take the action we both knew was safer. At the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to poke fun at the academic in him.
“Unless this is your way of telling me you've always wanted to fuck a girl in a lab because, I must admit I'd be more than happy to oblige."
Spencer’s whole body tensed as he imagined just what it would feel like to take me in such a public place. After a couple seconds that I can only imagine were filled with fantasies and a reasonable fear, he pulled me from my seat on the counter and placed me back on the ground.
“Let’s go,” he said, pulling me by my wrist towards the door.
I only barely managed to stop him with both hands on his arm. He turned back to look at me like I’d done some horrible thing, but I was too busy trying to stop the laughter that was spilling from my chest.
“You’re uh—” I cleared my throat, pointing to the very noticeable tent in his slacks before I keened through the giggles, “You’re gonna have to do something about that.”
With a quick glance down, Spencer remembered the very unfortunately obvious trait of the male anatomy. “Fuck,” he stated plainly.
I couldn’t resist.
“I mean, I’m down,” I joked one final time.
“Shut up!” Spencer laughed, too, trying and failing to adjust himself in his pants while I just enjoyed the show.
After all, we both knew that once we were alone, he would get a reprieve from my ridicule. He would get whatever he wanted.
—————————————————
The chaotic clashing of hands and mouths continued seconds after we’d reached our destination. The empty apartment had all of the sounds of our desperation echoing back to us, and after soaking in the melodious noise for a few seconds, I snapped back to reality.
“Okay, she doesn’t get home for another 30 minutes at the earliest so, we’d better hurry,” I urged, trying to shove Spencer off of me to convince him to move. It barely worked, with his arms clutching tighter the harder I struggled to get away.
Wrapped together just like that, the two of us barely made it a few feet before we almost tumbled to the ground. That was just enough of a reminder of our lack of coordination for Spencer to finally, begrudgingly, release me. Kind of. His hand still held tight to mine, and our laughter still combined the whole way to our bed.
From there, Spencer felt confident in our privacy to answer, “That’s fine. I usually tear open my gifts pretty quickly.”
It was a very good metaphor for the way his hands worked over my clothes. I didn’t even try to pinpoint the moment where being naked no longer made me feel nervous. I let the scar tissue show because neither of us were going to look at it, anyway. We were too caught up in the slight shifts and nuances of our faces as we rushed towards our one mutual goal.
“I missed you,” I mumbled, the words feeling as natural as breathing itself.
“I missed you, too,” he returned, and I felt the raw emotion, the sincerity and desire in every syllable. But once it was over and he had finally managed to remove everything but my underwear, all that was left was an all-encompassing, mind-altering level of lust.
“God, watching you in class was so fucking frustrating,” he strained, his upper lip curling with disdain as he watched my body squirm against the sheets.
“Why’s that?”
“I wanted you so badly.”
There was no denying that it was the honest truth, and I didn’t even want to try. I wanted to gloat and bask in the confirmation that his presence was dangerous for my academic career. Not to mention my sanity.
“Like I said. You’re very distracting.”
Then, to prove my point, that brilliant bastard shoved his hand under the band of my underwear. He only held me softly for one second before he slid his fingers through the slickness and thrust them roughly into me. It hadn’t been that long, but the emptiness I felt before was even more apparent now that I had any part of him inside of me again.
“Am I?” he chimed with a smile.
I wanted to be bratty, to fight the tension that was building and appear unfazed by his ministrations, but there was simply no pretending. Not when my body was already on the verge of spasming around his fingers that seemed to stroke the perfect place within me with every movement.
“Jesus Christ,” I sighed. I should’ve known better than to give him ammunition.
“You’ve resorted to blasphemy already?”
Spencer partnered the tease with a ruthless thrust, burying his fingers to the knuckle inside of me and holding them there. He waited until I ran out of breath and struggled to take another while also trying not to scream in a mixture of frustration and devastating need for more.
“I thought I told you we had to hurry?”
“We’ve got time,” he shot back without pause, “You’re just being a needy little brat.”
“Yes, I am,” I whined just as quickly, “I’m a fucking brat and I need you.”
He almost seemed disappointed in my compliance. His fingers began moving again, eliciting noises that were louder, higher, and sweeter after the anticipation. He tried to draw the attitude out of me by stopping again, waiting for a quip that didn’t come.
“Awww, no fight?” he cooed.
“I can’t. It’s your birthday,” I grumbled before biting my tongue. The pressure was becoming so unbearable I thought I might honestly draw blood. But after another few seconds of torture that felt like a lifetime, Spencer withdrew his hand completely.
He was testing the limits, watching how far I would let him go before begging. But even when he took the same soaked fingers and began rubbing me from the outside of my underwear, I only opened my mouth to steal quick, soft breaths and give pitiful whines.
“Oh, I like this…” he laughed, apparently having gotten past his concern about my sudden compliance, “I could get used to you behaving.”
The song-like cadence got to me, threatening to spark and ignite everything I was holding back. I almost bit back. I almost let the desire scorch my throat with a few choice words for the very rude genius, but I didn’t. The only thing that stopped me was the feel of cotton sliding down my thighs as he removed the final barrier between us.
“You’d miss my misbehaving,” I said with a chuckle. The sound mixed with another, a deep moan that filled my chest when I felt him press himself against my entrance. My back arched, causing him to slip inside of me just enough for us to both lose our words.
“I don’t know…”
If I’d wanted to say anything, my mouth wouldn’t have let me. It was too busy singing his praise while simultaneously begging him to silence it. My lips floundered for a kiss that he hung just far enough away from me to deny. Satisfaction was painted over every feature as he started to enter me, brushing his lips against my mouth every few seconds just to pull away before I was granted the intimacy I sought.
“You do look rather cute when you’re begging.”
It was strange, the way my body started to predict his movements. I met him in the middle of every motion, and I swore even our breath became synchronized in its rapid firing. It wasn’t until his hand rested over my throat we broke the rhythm. I wasn’t going to complain, letting the energy flow down my spine that arched towards him on instinct. His hips never stopped, and I could tell by the way his breath hitched and his fingers grew tighter around my neck that the new angle was as wonderful for him as it was for me.
“You look so sweet when you let go of every ounce of self-preservation and dignity you have and put your life in my hands,” he whispered with an affection that almost seemed odd considering the context. But then there was something else in his moans, a genuine gentleness that made my already arrhythmic heart beat faster.
“You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” he asked as his movements stayed calm and careful. Loving and safe.
I didn’t even notice my eyes had closed, but it ultimately didn’t matter. Because when I opened them, I saw the same man that existed in every image behind my eyelids. The only indication he got that I was still capable of communication was the gentle curve of my lips that dropped open in a pleased sigh as his hips continued a slow, tender pace.
It still felt like too much, but not in a bad way. It was too much in the sense that I was reminded once again just how ruined he’d made me. And the smug little shit knew it, too.
“You don’t have a single thought in that pretty little head, do you?” he cooed, dragging his hand up the column of my throat to force his fingers against my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to fight back. I soaked the digits that still tasted like me with my jaw left open. His pupils dilated as he watched the spit pool in my mouth that awaited his instruction.
“You just want to be used. Like the perfect little doll you are.”
Unlike my own, his smile was more of a smirk. A crooked, ever so slightly wicked quirk that made my muscles tense around him in their own version of an affirmative answer. He took it, happily. His body crashed into mine, but it merely felt like an extension of myself returning home like the waves meeting the shore. I could feel him claiming his rightful place at the deepest parts of me, making his home with every powerful motion of his hips.
I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I didn’t want to. It felt unnecessary.
“My sweet little girl,” he muttered with an unbelievably chaste kiss in the center of my forehead, “You’d do anything to make your daddy happy.”
I felt detached from myself in a way that didn’t feel me with fear or pain. I could feel myself through his hands, strong and working the pliable flesh of my thighs as he held them up so that he could drive into me harder.
His eyes, also only half open, burned with intensity. I could feel the determination, the undying desire to grant me a serenity that no one else could. His need for me to feel safe and loved with the seemingly contradictory brutality.
But it wasn’t contradictory. The power behind every movement, the insistence on being as close to me as he possibly could, might have caused some physical pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of sharing this space with him. Of sharing my body with him just to see what he would do with it. I already knew, but I wanted to feel it again and again. Because with each stroke of his hand and thrust of his hips, I felt it.
Spencer had free rein to do whatever he wanted, and he chose to love me.
“I’m so close. You know what I want,” he pleaded despite holding all of the power. He handed it to me with a low groan, trying to kiss my lips while he commanded, “Do it. Come for me.”
My body obeyed his command, falling to pieces around him with shockwaves breaking over every inch of me. My vision went white, crafting a halo of light around him as he also found himself reaching a peak that seemed different than the times we’d shared before.
I tried to figure out what had changed, what about this time made it unique. But as the euphoria faded, all I saw staring back at me was the same face as always, radiating a joy and understanding that warmed damp, chilly skin. Spencer’s release provided a similar warmth within me, and my body clung to him even tighter despite the exhaustion.
My breathing took its time to even out, but I was in no rush to leave him. I would have stayed like that forever, with Spencer covering me like the silliest, boniest blanket. If it wasn’t for the dead weight he eventually dropped on me, we probably would’ve spent the whole day lost in the covers. But he could thank the scars for me being a little less forgiving.
Of course, thankful is not the word to describe him at all. Whiny was more like it. Even as I turned our bodies together so that I would still be sitting on his lap, he did nothing but groan and bitch about it. That is, until I silenced him with a kiss that barely brushed over his lips.
That was enough to turn his frown back to the dopey smile I loved so much.
“Happy birthday, old man,” I purred, enjoying the way his hands grabbed me tighter at the loving nickname. But age wasn’t what was on his mind. I could see it in the way his eyes tore past my defenses and he held me closer like we could actually become one if he tried hard enough.
“I’m so in love with you, it’s infuriating,” he whispered.
“I’ve heard that one before.”
Spencer wasn’t in a joking mood, though. All of his humor seemed to be expended earlier in the day, and now he was just left with all the mushy, romantic innards that I normally kept at bay.
It wasn’t that bad, though, I thought as his hands framed my face so our foreheads would touch. There were worse things to be trapped with.
“It’s true,” he mumbled with his voice still high and slurred together, “I look at you and there is just… nothing that can be said that would ever explain the way it feels.”
“Gross,” I joked.
“Get used to it,” he returned. And if that wasn’t enough to make me laugh, he stuck his tongue out in the most childish display I’d seen from him since he’d fucking licked my hand on our picnic. It was also just charming enough that I was willing to let the sappy stuff slide.
“I’ll be nice to you this time,” I grumbled. “But also, speaking of time, you’d better hurry up if you don’t want to do the walk of shame with an audience.”
Spencer’s arms fell limp with a dramatic cry before he used them to cover his face once more.
“Ugh. Go,” he ordered. Despite his words, he still made me fight against greedy hands to wrestle my way out of bed. It would have been smarter to let me go quickly. I really don’t know what he was thinking, but he would learn his mistake soon enough. Because as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard a very amused voice chiming down the hall on the other side of the door.
“Good afternoon, Spencer.”
I debated not opening the door and freeing Spencer from the unbelievably uncomfortable position he’d just found himself in, but ultimately decided it was too cruel. Still, the stalling had taken up enough time that the poor guy felt compelled to reply.
And, of course, the only thing he could think to say was a pathetic, high pitched, “Hi.”
Somehow managing to contain the absolutely riotous laughter I felt in my gut, I opened the door with the straightest face I could muster.
It wasn’t enough. Spencer saw the pleasure I took in his humiliation and practically shoved me out of the bathroom to take my place behind the doors. While I found the action endearing in the most awkward way, my roommate was mostly just confused about how the fuck I’d managed to find someone as stupid as me.
“I didn’t know he was coming,” she said once she managed to smile at the silly situation.
Clearing my throat, I tried to sound sincere in my bullshit apology. “Me either, sorry.”
In a way, I think the fact I couldn’t pull myself together worked in my favor. Normally, she would have scolded me (albeit playfully) for not alerting her of what she might be walking in on, but this time, she just tried to withhold the smile that still stretched over her cheeks despite her best efforts.
“You’re fine,” she sighed, giving in to the desire to go against her usual grumpy demeanor before retreating to her own room. “Have fun, you hooligans.”
Once her door clicked shut, I heard shuffling on the other side of the door next to me. Spencer’s shadow was visible from the light peeking out underneath, and I waited a few more restless seconds before I announced, “You can come out now, Spencer.”
Cautiously, the door creaked open just enough for his head to poke out and confirm that I wasn’t trying to trick him.
“I’ve never been a hooligan before,” he said with a bounce in his step and his eyebrows halfway up his face. To think that he was the same man who threatened to arrest me for existing at a nightclub was, in a word, hilarious.
“Well, good news for you,” I purred, and the sound must have reminded him of my more devilish nature, because his jubilance quickly shifted back to an obvious anxiety. I wrapped my arms around him even when it meant that his muscles tensed, dragging him down so I could whisper in his ear, “I was just about to ask if you wanted to help me play hooky.”
“And do what?”
It felt strange to say that I hadn’t really thought about it. That the second I’d seen him I knew that the day would be good and free and fun. That everything felt so perfectly fine that I didn’t even want to challenge it with a schedule.
Spencer looked at me, his answer apparent in the way he started to relax the longer we stayed wrapped up in a shitty apartment hallway. It didn’t matter what I said. Spencer would have followed me, just like I would have done for him.
And without the angst or uncertainty of what could go wrong, there was only one thing left for us to do. With a shrug and pout, I proposed the riskiest plan we’d had yet.
“Whatever we want.”
—————————————————
| Finale |
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid smut#spencer reid imagine#here to misbehave#h2m#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid series#reid series#spencer reid request#criminal minds self insert#criminal minds smut#dr spencer reid#reid request
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Red Scare
Movie/Game/Show: Marvel
Dynamic: Peter Parker/Reader
Warnings: some au where everyone’s in the compound and happy because :), i wrote out a russian accent for pronunciation purposes (it’s then quickly wrote out but hey), “slowburn” written by someone impatient, fem pronouns
Summary: Peter just really wants to hold your hand and gets embarrassed by Nat and Tony to do it.
Word Count: 3.5K
~~~
Steve was the one who’d found you originally. Well, fought you - to be accurate. The super soldier was a target you’d been put on as a Widow when Natasha found you both and broke the fight up. She’d just barely managed to convince Steve to keep you around - insisting that she could help defect you from Widowing and mold you into a new Avenger. It’d worked for her, surely, it’d work for you too - she just needed time. Time that, while hesitant to do so, Steve eventually granted.
Natasha graciously took you under her wing and began teaching you about American culture and how to blend in for more than spy work.
Now, Natasha watches with furrowed brows as Wanda approaches you. She had her arms crossed tensely as you two came to a meet in the middle of the room. She watches you, her dear student, reach out, hesitating before softly taking Wanda by the shoulders and leaning in to gently kiss her left cheek, then right, then left again.
“Okay,” Natasha put up her hands, signaling the two to stop, “so, ученик, you see where you went wrong there? If Wanda’s a stranger, you wouldn’t kiss her on the cheeks, right?”
“Vanda is friend, no?” you gestured between you and the other woman.
“She is,” Natasha nodded before jabbing your forehead with her index finger, “but you need to pretend she isn’t, just for right now.”
Throwing your hands up in defeat, you huffed, “Vhat? I’m bad guy because zis is ridiculous?”
“No one’s trying to say you’re the bad guy,” Wanda gave you a smile and pat on the shoulder, “Just in need of a little more practice.”
“We should start working with accents,” Bucky pitches in for the first time since ‘American etiquette’ lessons began that day, “Her’s is a dead giveaway.”
Natasha nodded before glancing over at the clock, “I’m sure you’d love to do that one, big guy.”
“Why me?” Bucky sat up straighter - he was no good with one-on-one interactions unless they were fights, and with your upbringing in the Red Room, Bucky was certain you didn’t need any combat training.
“I’ve got a mission to get to with Wanda,” the assassin pat the man’s arm with a teasing grin, “So, unless you wanna see who else is available for that, just sit tight till we’re back.”
The two redheads were out before Bucky could even reply, a sigh leaving his lips at the new awkwardness of the situation. It wasn’t even his idea to be involved - he just got looped in because of his time with HYDRA. Which, in his opinion, was unfair - Natasha and Wanda were at least actually Eastern European, he was lumped in by association. He stood, beginning out of the common room with a nod for you to follow, muttering under his breath.
“If I may,” you interject, nearly rushing to keep up with Bucky’s hurried strides, “zat eh, Spider. Spider boy. Is only one home. Stark, maybe. But Spider, definitely”
“Parker…” the man takes a glance at you, trying to shove his disdain for the boy back, “Sure. He should be in the lab.”
It doesn’t take long to find Peter with Tony, Bucky knocking on the doorframe to catch both of their attention, “We need help teaching accents.”
“And articles,” Tony interjects, pushing a stool beside Peter’s and motioning for you to sit, “Unfortunately for you, lavalantula, it’s hard to take you seriously when you say things like ‘get in house’ like a cavewoman.”
“Mr. Stark- “
Before Peter has the chance to defend you, you’re quirking a brow at the man and putting your own two cents into his take, “In fairness, vhat idiot vould get in different house?”
“Accent and articles!” Peter claps, a forced smile bright on his lips, “Will do, Mr. Barnes, you can trust me.”
“I really don’t,” Bucky glares at the poor boy all while he leaves, “If she starts making references to your movies, I’ll personally bring you harm.”
“Opposed to what?” Peter murmured, “Impersonal harm?”
That brought a small laugh from between your lips, causing Peter to perk up once again at the positive attention. It isn’t every day he gets to make a former Russian assassin laugh, he supposes he should take it as a compliment.
He cleared his throat as Tony went about the lab, “Alright, I think that first we should start with articles.”
“Sounds pointless.”
“They kind of are, but we use them here, so…” he scratches at the back of his head, “How about we try making the ‘th’ sound first, sound good?”
“Not really.”
It was a few days with learning from Peter, but you’d felt as though so much progress was made towards the lessening of a Russian accent. Or maybe the praise that slipped from Peter’s lips just made the most minor step forward seem like a leap. The praise brought a new bubble of joy in your chest, one that was never there when Wanda, or the ever rare Natasha, complimented your work. Maybe it’s because Peter was born and raised in America that made it seem more valid - maybe it was his buzz and excitement at teaching. Maybe it was just him.
“Why don’t you try telling me about your day, to get used to speaking with what you learned so far?”
“Uh,” you fumbled, trying to translate the events in your head before speaking, “I woke up. I trained v- with Thor. Then he left for mission,” you paused, realizing your mistake and sighing.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Peter was quick to jump in when he assumed self-doubts were bubbling up, “You’ve got a lot of time to learn, don’t beat yourself up over a mistake. English is a pain in the ass to learn, you should be proud of yourself for picking it up so fast.”
“Yeah?” he could sense the hesitant disbelief in your voice.
Even so, he didn’t let up, giving a confident nod, “Yeah. Just start over whenever. You were doing really well.”
You took a moment to plan out the response in your head, running through it internally a few times before giving Peter a verbal run through, “I woke up. I trained with Thor. Then he left for a mission. I went to the lab. Now I’m here - with you.”
“See? You’re already doing so well, you should be proud. We can work on elongating sentences later down the line, but this is already pretty great!”
You take a moment, planning the pronunciation in your head before responding, “Thank you, Parker.”
“Peter,” he jumps to say, shrinking back slightly at his own eagerness, “Peter is fine, if you wanna call me that.”
“Piter,” you try the name on your tongue.
“I don’t think we’re saying it the same way,” he nods curtly, “but that’s okay! Doesn’t have to be perfect the first time.”
“I would like to try again,” you whisper his name to yourself a few times before repeating it aloud, “Peter…”
“Right! Wow, you’re so good at this already,” Peter turns to Tony, who’s doing a poor job of pretending he wasn’t listening to the pair, “Isn’t she smart, Mr. Stark?”
“Coming from you, kid? That’s a big compliment.”
“I think it’s well-deserved,” he gives you a chuckle, “I really mean it, you’re good at this and this is just a few days into working on your accent.”
“You think so?” there’s a wave of sheepishness that comes with Peter’s attention, with his wide-eyed, all-believing stares that leads you to scratch at the back of your neck, “Good. I would not enjoy to be a bother for long.”
“Not a bother, at all. I like spending time with you, even if it’s just to teach you about American accents.”
Tony closes his eyes and shakes his head, honestly not believing the words as they come out of his mouth, “You two live together, you could hang out whenever you want, kid.”
“Oh, yeah, huh?” Peter’s eyes seem to come alive again, “We should, then. Hang out, I mean. Outside of these accent lessons, unless you don’t want to.”
“No, no,” you feel a small, unfamiliar smile stretch over your own lips, “I vou- would. I would like that, very much.”
“Yep,” Tony slaps a stack of papers on the desk before beginning to make his exit, “Definitely have to work on those sentence frames, Captain Ivan.”
For the duration of Natasha’s absence, you’ve stopped coming to Bucky for lessons on Americanization. Sneaking off with Peter to the kitchen when you can.
"I used to think that melancholy was a vegetable."
"You're genius enough to catch Stark's attention, but thought melancholy was the name of vegetable?"
"Doesn't it sound like it though? Can you really tell me I'm wrong?"
"No, no, I can see it. Like celery and the uh, the one fruit. They had a baby."
"The one fruit?"
"The one, I forgot the word. Don't you have a word for дыня?"
"You do realize I have no idea what you just said, right?"
Sometimes to either of your rooms, or walking together around the perimeter of the building, or traversing through the little garden Wanda had been working hard on.
"Would you like some food? I'm ordering."
"I don't have any money, sorry."
"I did not ask if you had money, Peter. Do you want food or not?"
"But I can't pay you back and then I feel all icky on the inside part."
"Think of it as gift then, no paying back needed. Gift for being a good friend."
"Aw, you think I'm a good friend?"
"If I had to have a first friend, then I'm glad it was you. You're a good person, Peter. I'm glad we met."
"I'm really glad we met, too."
Little times set apart to spend time together that always begin as lessons.
"You ever heard of solipsism?"
"Maybe, what is it?"
"Uh, the belief that everything around you was created in your mind."
"Then yes, why, Peter?"
"Well, I just was thinking… You know, if everything around me is imaginary then you're the best thing I've ever come up with."
"Peter…"
"I'm sorry, was that too cheesy?"
"No, I just- it was really nice, actually. Thank you."
"Well, don't thank me, it's true."
Times that quickly morphed into discussions on Peter’s favorite movies or what little parts you miss of home.
"Would you ever go back? Like, to Russia?"
"Only if I had to. Too many poor memories there."
"What would be 'having to'?"
"If someone I really cared about needed me to. You or Natasha, mostly."
"You'd go back for me?"
"If you were in need of saving and I had to return to Russia to do it, yes, I'd go back."
"That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard."
"Peter, it is quite actually the bare minimum in terms of saving you."
Nobody expected it to last longer than the time that Natasha was gone - she was like a big sister to you, a safeplace when the Tower felt cold. So, when she came home and you didn’t re-glue yourself to her hip - people were quick to notice.
“I didn’t think Parker could get worse,” Sam noted under his breath, “But there he is, digging underneath the bar.”
Truly, Sam could’ve just looked away - but it was hard to do that when he was watching Peter fucking Parker, the littlest Avenger, try to win a game of footsies with you at the kitchen island. It’d be a cute sight if Sam weren’t the one having to see it.
“I’m staying out of it,” Bucky shook his head, staring down at the table as he pushed his food around his plate, “I haven’t been hungry since they got in here.”
Suddenly, Peter stands, “You’re low on coffee,” he points down at your mug before moving around the counter to the pot, “Do you want more? Just, while I’m up and here.”
“I hate that kid,” Sam shook his head, standing up and starting out of the kitchen, “I hope she rejects his ass.”
“I think it’s sweet,” Steve muttered, “In a way only an ex-Widow could manage.”
“She would’ve eaten him alive on the field, you know?” Bucky shook his head as he watched Peter contently refill your coffee and you give a rare smile only he and Natasha ever really knew, “I miss those days.”
“You try so hard to content me…” you begin, unaware of the conversation behind you, and tap your fingers on the counter’s marble, “Why?”
“You seem nice,” he shrugs, deflating when all you shoot him with in return is a skeptical look, “You do - you are. I like spending time with you.”
Before he can scold himself, you’re smiling again, patting his shoulder, “Thanks, Peter, you’re reassuring. I will be training with Nat if you need me.”
Peter expected a lot of things in his life - joint pain when he’s old, to be an Avenger with Mr. Stark, for missions to not always go perfectly, but gaining a crush on a girl who, admittedly, kind of intimidated him, wasn’t one of those things. But, also admittedly, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome, he’s noticed. He waits for Steve to make his exit before turning in his stool to face the only other man left in the room.
“Hey, Mr. Barnes?”
“Oh my- what?”
“You know Miss Romanoff, right?”
“Nat?”
“No, that’s Ms. Romanoff.”
“You mean ученик?”
“Sure, yeah, that’s what you guys call her.”
“Why are you calling her ‘Romanoff’, that’s not her last name at all.”
“No, but she’s like Ms. Romanoff's sister, or daughter, or something, so it fit. Anyway, do you know her?”
“Yes, Parker, obviously I know her.”
“Well, I think I may or may not like her like more than a friend, a lot, and I was wondering if you knew what she was into? Like date-wise… or gift-wise… or hey, even partner-wise, if she talks about that, ever.”
“She doesn’t and please don’t involve me in this. Go ask Nat.”
And so, Peter does ask Nat.
He makes up an excuse about wanting to be more agile on the field to drag her away from you before popping the question, “Do you think she likes me?”
Natasha doesn’t need clarification, she’s seen the way Peter looks at you whenever you’re around each other. It’s sweet. It’s like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time. He’s so attentive and soft towards you. Sure, the dynamic of a gentle-natured superhero from Queens and a Russian ex-Widow, current Avenger-in-training is a little strange, but she’s all for it if it means you’re happy. You’re like the little sister she so desperately wants back.
“She might,” the redhead shrugs, “Poor ученик isn’t so open with her feelings, kid. I can barely get her to open up about what she thought about dinner let alone her feelings towards the others,” when the boy’s face drops, she tilts him by the chin to meet her eyes, “That being said, I’ll talk to her. She’s a lot nicer to you than she is with the rest of the team so I wouldn’t kill that hope so fast.”
Peter barely manages to smother down a smile before nodding, giving an awkward thumbs up, and racing back down the hall, a “Thanks, Ms. Romanoff!” echoing after him.
Nat purses her lips in thought of who could be able to help her. Who was nosy enough and bothersome enough to try and set up two teenagers?
“Hey,” Tony pointed to the group of Natasha, Wanda, Bucky, and yourself on the couch, “Red Scare, in the training room.”
“Vh- Which one of us are you referring to?”
The man simply tapped the door frame with a nod, “Five minutes or I’m docking your missions.”
“He can’t do that,” Bucky shook his head, eyes narrowing as realization sat in, “Can he?”
And so, in under five minutes, the quartet found themselves in the training room with Tony.
“Underoos needs some training with fighting tactics known to HYDRA - so, who here wants to be the helpful little hero to do that?”
You look between the others, quirking a brow and shaking your head, “HYDRA is not a hub of top secret fighting techniques, it would be like pairing Peter with anybody else.”
“Sounds like you need to get familiar with other fighting styles then,” Natasha tuts, “I’ve let you off too easy just training with me.”
“I literally fight Steve and Thor all the time, there isn’t much difference just because he’s American,” you narrow your eyes at the woman, “If you both are up to something just admit it now.”
“No, no, there’s definitely a difference,” Bucky pitches in - though clearly not content with being roped into the mess of getting Parker a girlfriend, “He’s all in-your-face and forceful, you’re more like sneak-and-stab.”
“Because I am spy and he is fighter!” you shout, looking to Wanda with wide eyes, “Am I being the specific one? I feel as though I am not being the specific one.”
Wanda feels guilt run through her veins as she shrugs, actively knowing she’s aiding in tricking you, “You should give it a try. For comparison reasons.”
“You’re all making me feel crazy and I do not like it, I am at least a little certain this is a form of manipulation.”
“You’re a spy, you should be able to tell,” Bucky pats your back, “Anyway, I’m busy - you have to fight the kid.”
“Vision and I had a dinner reservation,” Wanda ducks out of the room quickly.
Tony points at you with raised brows, “You got it then, Xenia Onatopp?”
“I- “ you sigh and throw your hands up in defeat, “I suppose I do.”
A few minutes later, Peter is shoved into the training room while you stuff on a pair of gloves - eyes sliding over to the doorway to look at his jumpy form. You scoff, “They are up to something and I feel like I know what.”
“What? What - what do you mean?” Peter nervously crosses his arms and tilts his head, “Up to what?”
“Peter,” you raise a brow at him in question, “do you expect me to believe you are dumb? They are making us spend time together like this, what could that possibly mean?”
His mouth opens and closes, eyes avoiding your gaze like it’s deadly, “Who knows, honestly?”
Shaking your head, you begin removing your gloves, “Okay then, do not talk to me until you are ready to tell the truth.”
“Wait!” Peter latches onto your hand as you pass him by the doorway, “Wait, wait, wait… I- I’m sorry. I just really like you and so I asked Ms. Romanoff for help and I didn't think that she’d team up with Mr. Stark because nothing really good comes from Mr. Stark meddling in things other than tech and saving the world, but she did and they did this. I would’ve said something but you’re just really cool and I was scared you wouldn’t like me back so I tried to see if Ms. Romanoff could test the waters for me.”
“You see where that was a mistake, right?” you reach up, brushing your hand through Peter’s bangs, “I do like you, Peter. A lot. So I would appreciate you being upfront with me rather than looking through Natasha for answers.”
“Right, and I’m sorry- “
“Was honest mistake, Peter, do not worry any longer.”
“Are you sure?”
“Would not have said so if I wasn’t. I do not like your worry.”
Peter wrought his hands together, lips pursed, "Can we not pretend to train and just hang out then?"
"Are you certain you do not want me to kick your ass?"
“Well, now that you said that I feel pressure to prove that you won’t,” Peter shook his head and sighed, “I’m okay with taking a loss today.”
“You didn’t even try, didn’t even initiate.”
“So I’m the bad guy cuz I don’t wanna get my ass kicked, okay,” the boy sarcastically muttered before laying his back against the wall and sliding down to the floor, “Hey, you’re bilingual, right?” at your nod of confirmation, he continued, “What language do you think in? Russian?”
You pondered the question before shrugging, “I’m not even sure I think.”
---
“So,” Natasha looks between the two, “how was the training?”
“Awful,” Peter shakes his head, “Hated it.”
“Right… and you, ученик?”
You look over to Peter, his subtle grin and fidgety movements, before shrugging, “He’s a child,” you sigh, “Terrible.”
“Oh, is that so?” Natasha squints between the two of you.
You both nod in unison, “Definitely.”
“Anyway,” you cut in quickly, “we are off to ask Thor to let us try and lift Mjolnir. Please, don’t meddle in teenagers who have will-they-won’t-they scenarios, just let us be awkward about it.”
“What she said,” Peter grinned broadly before gently tapping his finger against your hand and withholding a small cheer when you intertwined your hand with his and led him through the halls to find Thor.
He was almost scared how much he enjoyed the feeling of your hand in his, something so small and inconsequential and yet it made his heart flutter all the same.
“This is nice,” he lifts up your hands briefly.
“I would hope so,” you tease, “I like it, though, is cute, no?”
“It is. Definitely is. I think so.”
“I do, too. We should do it more often.”
#peter parker x y/n#peter parker fic#peter parker x you#peter parker x reader#spiderman x reader#spiderman x y/n#peter x you#peter x reader#idk if the length of this gives it away#but i really like the idea of peter and his russian murder girlfriend
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comme une idylle
Beca gets an odd request from a stranger while in Paris
rating: G
word count: 2801
happy birthday @green-eyed-weirdo 🥰 I hope you like it!
moodboard and beta by the lovely @snowonebutyou
ao3 link
*
“Dude, is this really necessary?”
Stacie hums. “It’s French fashion.”
Beca rolls her eyes. “I feel like if that were true, we would have seen some people wearing it by now. This just screams ‘I’m an American tourist’ to me.”
Stacie ignores her, adjusting the beret over her head as she stands in front of the mirror. “I think I look sexy with this. Very… chic.”
“Great. If you decide to walk around with that and a baguette under your arm I’m going solo on our tour.”
Stacie plucks another beret from the shelf and screws it over Beca’s head. “Aw, you look like Gavroche.”
“Fuck you, dude,” Beca mutters, taking it off and flattening her hair with her palm as she places the hat back in its initial spot. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” Stacie points out, and Beca can’t really contradict her.
Once Stacie has finally picked one of those ridiculous hats, they head up the cobblestone street and find themselves a brasserie (one of those restaurants where you can get just a drink or have a full meal) for lunch. It’s pretty hot (a bit too hot for Beca’s taste, but she’s hopefully applied enough sunscreen not to resemble a lobster by the end of the day) in Paris that day, but they find shelter under one of those huge parasols, a gentle breeze sweeping in ever so often as they gaze at the food options.
Melodic giggles draw Beca’s focus away from the badly translated menu and towards two tables over to her left. They belong to a redhead, who just happens to be as radiant as her laughter, and Beca finds herself staring a beat too long, catching Stacie’s attention.
“She’s cute.”
Beca’s cheeks heat up as soon as she realizes she’s been caught, and she looks back at her menu so quickly something in her neck twitches. She clears her throat. “What are you talking about?”
“Aww, you adorable baby bisexual. You should go talk to her. Or buy her a drink.”
“Dude, no,” Beca hisses.
Stacie is silent for a few beats, clearly listening in. “She’s American.”
Beca makes a noncommittal sound. “And?”
Stacie leans over, a smirk curving her lips. “Imagine how romantic it would be, you two meeting in Paris and finding each other again in the States. That’s Nicholas Sparks shit right here.”
Beca finds Stacie’s eyes over the menu. “You seem to have forgotten a slight detail: I don’t know how to talk to women.”
Stacie’s eyes roll skyward. “Maybe you should try.”
The waiter thankfully puts a temporary end to the conversation, and once he’s gone with their orders, Beca sees that so is the redhead and her friend.
“Well, there goes your Parisian romance,” Stacie says, sighing softly.
Beca doesn’t really think about the stranger again, not until the end of the day. Stacie insists on heading to the Eiffel Tower to catch the sunset (and probably take a bunch of pictures for her influencer Instagram account), and Beca ignores her aching feet, feeling like she’s already been complaining a lot today.
“Hi there.”
Beca twists her head to the left to find the stranger from the cafe. Her blue eyes nearly make her stumble. “Um, hi?”
“So this might sound really weird, but I’ve always wanted a romantic picture in front of the Eiffel Tower and my boyfriend just dumped me before this trip and well, I was wondering if you’d pose with me?”
That’s a lot of information in five seconds, and Beca blinks twice in slow succession. “Pose, as in…?”
“As in, kiss me?”
She hears Stacie gasp beside her and doesn’t even want to spare her a glance. Her ears feel like they just caught on fire and her voice is nowhere to be found.
It’s only when Stacie jabs her elbow into her ribs that Beca says something. “I, uh, I-- what?”
Well, close to saying something.
The other woman giggles. “You’re really cute. And I asked if you’d like to take a photo with me.”
“Kissing,” Beca echoes, just to make sure.
The redhead grimaces. “Sorry, you’re totes creeped out. I’ll find someone else.”
“She’ll do it,” Stacie announces before Beca can say anything else.
“What, dude,” Beca interjects.
“If you don’t I will,” Stacie mutters, and that shoves Beca into motion.
“Um yeah, sure,” she tells the stranger. A shaky nod. “I’ll do it.”
“Awes!” She hands Stacie her phone. “My friend Aubrey can take the pic.”
Beca notices the blonde standing off to the side and waves awkwardly before her friend slides her hand into hers and tugs her forward. Beca’s heart starts to race a little as they come to a stop at the top of the stairs splaying out over the Trocadero gardens.
“Wait, what’s your name?” The stranger asks, seemingly as an afterthought.
“Um, Beca,” Beca says.
“Nice to meet you, Beca. I’m Chloe.”
Beca nods, tongue poking out to wet her lips. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. So um,” she wipes her hands over her jeans. “How should we…”
“I’ll just kiss you now,” Chloe says, amusement clear in her tone.
Beca wants to dig herself a hole. But that thought vanishes as soon as Chloe starts leaning in, and her eyes slam shut the moment those soft, full lips brush against hers in a gentle kiss. She hears herself humming as her head tilts forward to chase the remaining distance between them, pushing a firmer kiss against Chloe’s mouth. It’s Chloe’s turn to make a sound this time, and Beca nearly forgets her own name.
She instantly forgets about the photo, and the fact that Chloe is a stranger, too caught up in how good this feels to really care. She does, however, come to her senses when she starts to lack oxygen and pulls away with a sheepish smile, her cheeks flaming.
“Damn…” Chloe murmurs, eyes alight. “I picked well.”
Beca clears her throat and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, avoiding her eyes. “Glad I could be of service,” she mumbles with an awkward salute.
(yes, yes, a goddamn salute because she’s a fucking dork.)
Chloe giggles and Beca suddenly feels high on the sound. “Too bad my friend and I have to leave tonight. I could have definitely gone for an encore performance.”
Beca isn’t sure how redder her face can get before it matches the shade of her plaid shirt. “That’s uh, too bad.”
“Well thanks for doing it for me,” Chloe says with a wink, then kisses her cheek. “Bye, Beca.”
“Bye,” Beca murmurs, somewhat still in a kiss-induced daze as she watches her go.
“Holy crap, dude,” Stacie says when she catches up with her. “You totally made out with her.”
Beca chuckles, rubbing the back of her neck. “We um, got carried away?”
Stacie punches her arm. “Tell me you got her number.”
Beca shakes her head. “She probably lives like, in LA or something.”
“Oh my god, you’re such an idiot.”
Beca has to agree; she’s the biggest idiot in the world.
The rest of their trip goes smoothly. Beca only has to listen to Stacie having sex once, which is a wonder, considering it’s Stacie, and the two fly back to New York at the end of the week, heads filled with good memories of their trip abroad.
“I still can’t believe you didn’t ask for her number,” Stacie says as they walk out of the arrival gate at JFK.
“Oh my god, would you let it go?” Beca groans, tilting her head back.
“She was so hot.”
“I know,” Beca whines. “But I won’t find her again so let’s just not talk about it anymore.”
“Fine.”
It’s a few days later, as she’s aimlessly scrolling through TikTok as she does every night before bed, that Beca sees it. She almost scrolls past it because ugh, couples, but the yellow summer dress and red hair catch her attention and have her sitting up with a jolt. Her breathes hitches in her throat as she reads the caption:
I hope this cute girl I met in Paris and asked for a pic of us kissing so I could pretend I had a romantic time in France sees this so I can take her out on a date
The video blew up, counting over a million likes and fifteen thousand comments. Her trembling thumb presses on the comment section.
Okay, TikTok, do your thing, we need to find this girl!!
Omg they’re so cute
Imagine they find each other!!
Beca swallows, licking her suddenly dry lips. “Imagine…” she breathes out as she presses on Chloe’s profile picture, hits follow, and then taps Message.
Hey, so… it’s Beca. The girl from Paris?
She locks her phone right after hitting send and buries her face in her palms, emitting a low groan. Her phone pinging less than a minute later makes her heart pound against her ribs. She reaches for it and peeks at the screen with one eye.
omg, hi!! it’s really you?
She figures maybe a few people have sent Chloe a message because hello, who wouldn’t, pretending it was her. So Beca thinks proving it is really her could be a good thing.
If by me you mean the dork who freaking saluted you after our kiss, yep that’s me.
Beca bites down on her bottom lip as she watches the three dots pop up on the screen.
I can’t believe it worked! I’ve been thinking about you a lot since that day.
Butterflies go off in her belly, and before Beca can ponder on how cheesy this is, she’s typing something back.
Me too. That was um, a really good kiss. And you’re pretty.
Oh god, I’m facepalming so hard right now. Sorry I… don’t really know how to talk to girls.
To her surprise, Chloe doesn’t seem put off by it.
You’re very cute. May I ask where you live?
Beca doesn’t want to get her hopes up, because the States are fucking huge, and she doesn’t see herself jumping into a long-distance whatever.
NYC. You?
I go to vet school in Ithaca.
Ithaca. Beca knows it’s in the state, but she googles how close just to make sure. Another message from Chloe comes through.
I’m usually in the city once a month since my best friend lives there. Would you… like to go out on a date when I’m around?
“Dude, chill out,” she mutters to herself when she feels a wave of warmth encompass her entire being.
Sure, yeah. I’d like that.
They exchange numbers and end up texting for most of the evening until Chloe announces she has to head to bed because she has an early lecture the following morning.
Beca is about to turn off the lights too, that idiotic smile still stuck to her lips, when her phone buzzes with a text message from Stacie.
DUDE!!! Watch this NOW
A TikTok link follows, and Beca knows what it is before she even opens it.
Wow. This really blew up, huh.
Stacie’s reply comes through less than five seconds later. That’s all you have to say?! Tell me you’re going to message her. I got dibs on Maid of Honor at your wedding, btw.
Beca rolls her eyes. She ponders telling Stacie but decides to keep Chloe to herself for a while. I’ll think about it.
She’s a fidgeting mess the morning leading up to their date. Chloe told her to meet her by the River Cafe in Dumbo, and Beca has spent entirely too much time deciding on what to wear, which really never happens.
Chloe is already there when she makes it to the park, and Beca buries her hands into her jacket pockets to keep them from wringing together. Chloe doesn’t see her right away, gazing up at the Brooklyn Bridge instead.
“Do you have a thing for iconic iron monuments?” She teases as she approaches, catching Chloe’s attention. She narrows her eyes playfully. “Are you gonna try and kiss me again?” A gasp flies past her lips as she exaggeratedly lies a hand over her chest. “Are you just using me to go viral on TikTok?”
Chloe giggles. “You’re a dork,” she says, grinning. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Beca breathes out, relaxing her shoulders as she smiles back.
“You like ice cream?” Chloe asks, nodding towards the vendor across the grassy area.
“Sure,” Beca says, and they fall into a step towards it. She takes her brain for something to say before things get awkward, but Chloe beats her to it.
“So what’s it like being a TikTok sensation?”
Beca barks out a laugh. “Amazing. One of my life goals for sure,” she jokes, cutting Chloe an amused glance.
Chloe giggles. “I honestly didn’t think it would blow up. But I’m glad it did ‘cause not finding you would have sucked.”
Beca clears her throat, looking down for a second. “Me too. I was really beating myself up for not asking for your number back in Paris.”
Chloe’s lips curve in a small smile, and she looks like she’s about to say something, but it’s their turn to order.
Ice creams in hand, they settle down on the grass to enjoy them. The weather is nice, not too hot with a gentle breeze rolling by once in a while.
“So what are some of your life goals, then?” Chloe asks once they’ve sat down.
“Making a living out of music is the main one,” she says. “I work as assistant producer right now, but the job is pretty crappy.”
“I may or may not have stalked your Instagram,” Chloe admits next. “You have an amazing voice.”
“Oh,” Beca lets out, feeling her cheeks heat up. “Thanks.” She clears her throat. “You’re into music?” Strangely something that hadn’t come up during their texting.
Chloe nods, smiling. “I was in an acapella group in college.”
Beca’s eyebrows shoot up, and she laughs before she can help herself. “Wait, seriously? You’re an acapella nerd?”
Chloe shoves her shoulder, laughing as well. “Shut up.”
“I guess we all make questionable choices in college, huh?”
Chloe huffs, throwing Beca a glare. Beca spots a sprinkle of amusement in her eyes, so she doesn’t think Chloe is truly mad.
“I’m just messing with you,” she says, softening. “I think any kind of music is neat. And singing without instruments is actually pretty impressive.”
“Thanks,” Chloe says lightly. “There’s just… something about music, you know. It soothes the soul and makes you escape the real world for a few minutes.”
A genuine smile curves Beca’s lips. It’s exactly how she would describe what music does to her. “Yeah.”
She eyes Chloe’s profile, still a little bit struck over the fact that this gorgeous girl is on a date with her.
“What?” Chloe asks with curiosity swirling in her eyes when she catches Beca staring.
Beca blinks. “Nothing. I…” she clears her throat. “You’re just really pretty.” She scrunches up her nose. “See? I’m awkward as fuck.”
Chloe chuckles and slides her hand into Beca’s free one. “I think it’s cute.”
Beca grumbles. “I’m not cute, I’m badass.”
Their time together flies by as they learn more about one another, Beca even managing to convince Chloe to show her some acapella videos. The sun sets without either realizing and the park is near empty, save for a couple strolling by in the distance.
“I should head back to Aubrey’s,” Chloe says when it gets a bit chillier. “I said I’d be home for dinner.”
Beca is a bit disappointed, but she nods, smiling. “Okay.”
She pushes to her feet and helps Chloe to hers, her eyes dropping to Chloe’s lips once they’re both standing.
“You know… I didn’t really care about the video,” Chloe murmurs, stepping closer. “I saw you at the restaurant and thought you were really cute. When I spotted you again later, I had to think of something.”
Beca raises an eyebrow. “I noticed you at the restaurant, too.”
“I know. You weren’t being very subtle.”
Beca huffs. “Shut up.”
Chloe simply laughs, her eyes sweeping down to Beca’s lips before she leans in. Beca is a lot less nervous this time around, and she hums as those familiar lips glide over hers flawlessly, her hands bunching up in Chloe’s top as she holds her waist. It’s over way too soon for her liking, but she has to remind herself they’re in public, and how she’ll probably get to do that again very soon.
“See you soon?” Chloe murmurs when they part, brushing her nose against Beca’s.
Beca nods and squeezes her waist. “Yeah.”
With one last kiss, she watches Chloe go in a similar state of a daze as in Paris.
Something tells her this is the start of something amazing.
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Maybeeee the bachelors and their crush with a playful back and forth teasing and flirting relationship? They just don't admit they like each other yet but its fairly obvious, and one day their crush just straight up admits they like them. How would the boys deal with that?
guess who's back bitchez!! thanks for the ask, anon, this was really fun to write :D brief hiatus over btw!! i'm back in business <33 seems short but i wrote this on my phone and i have no way to tell if it really is short or not but i hope yall enjoy nonetheless !! i'll edit it and add a "read more" sometime later when the wifi isnt as crappy on my laptop because the tumblr app is horseshit
tw: swearing
alex:
ok, wow, that was blunt and bold and super super hot
you two werre always pretty damn flirty but this is-- this is WOW
fucking speechless. eyes are flickering from your determined face, the bouquet in your hand, your suddenly extremely kissable lips (the kissability has been quadrupled due to this unforeseen circumstance)
he really didn't see it coming and nearly dropped one of his weights on his foot
he has no doubt about it because he can read the expressions on your face really well and damn it if you're fucking with him
but you're not and the bouquet in your outstretched hand is a little bit right in his face and his view of you is slightly obscured by the flowers
he plucks it from your hands, tosses it on his bed, takes you by the waist and kisses the living daylights out of you
sweetest shit ever but you are now alex's blunt translator
it's not a bad job, you get kisses for it
sam:
blush, blush, blush
ok, you two flirt exorbitantly but he has never blushed so hard in his life and... neither have you
nearly drops his guitar on his toes mid-jam
okay, you just BARGED in outta nowhere, regardless of your intentions, he gets startled
his mind registers your words and the bouquet and holy crap
you're standing in the middle of his bedroom, a little hot and sweaty from a typical day's work, holding a bouquet in your hands with a determined look in your face
sam's 70% sure he's in love when you tell him that you like like him and the sparkle in your eyes when he says "i'm in like with you, too" makes him feel like he's on cloud 9
he puts down his guitar, takes a flower from your bouquet, tucks it behind your ear, and then kisses you, slow and soft and so very heartfelt
is the one who goes on a tangent about how you confessed to him because he thinks it's the sweetest and coolest thing ever
sebastian:
surprised pikachu
he's awkward but he knows that all your flirting was leading somewhere
when you handed him the bouquet, a determined but strangely uncertain look in your eyes, he was so fucking relieved
so, he originally planned to confess to you in an unspeakably cheesy way
and THANK YOBA that you've saved him from himself
so, he just gets up from his desk, takes the bouquet and places it atop his computer and pulls you in a tight embrace
then, he kisses you. this part is surprisingly romantic-- he places his hand under your chin and presses the softest, lightest kiss on your lips, soft as a feather
he has a bright, endearing blush on his face and he could certainly say the same for you
he privately tells you some details about how he was going to confess but he stops after you fall over laughing
dork but he takes your sudden confession like a fucking champ
shane:
poor boy is wondering if you're fucking with him until he realizes you two are alone and the hint of hestitation on your face and the bright bouquet has him REELING
so, you really aren't joking or anything
i mean, you two teased each other and flirted a lot and he was usually on the receiving end of it so he takes everything you say with a healthy pinch of salt
he wants to ask you "what's that bouquet for?" in a calm, casual voice but when he says it, his voice is unusually quiet and strained
he didn't hear what you said and so you repeat it: "i like you. romantically. do you like me back? i mean, you don't have to tell me right now, you can think on it--"
shane very nearly tackles you. he hugs you so, so tightly, the bouquet crushed between your chests. and he tells you that yeah, i like you back.
and you two are kissing, kissing, kissing in his coop, charlie clucking at your feet and his blue chickens clucking in confusion
harvey:
confuzzled at the sight of the bouquet until you flat-out tell him that you like like him
his face just drains of color and you stop in the middle of your ramble, asking him if he doesn't feel the same way and if he's ok
he reassures you with a faint voice that, yes, he feels the same way but he also says that he thinks he's having an out of body experience and needs to have a quick lie-down
ok, wow, you actually like him and you are no longer just going to tease and flirt non-stop because you two are going to be an actual couple holy shit
you're bewildered but elated so you acquiesce and help him onto his doctor's bed, a concerned look on your face all the while
so you're just sitting next to harvey, tentatively stroking his hair while he has his out of body experience
he comes to a little later then sits up and asks you if he can kiss you. you beam and lean in for a kiss, soft and slow and so, very sure
elliot:
speechless. has Zero words for the way he's feeling right now and he is just so damn happy but he keeps opening his mouth like a fish in a tank because he keeps thinking of something to say but it's not enough
like, DUDE, he's used to your sly flirtations, innuendos, and suggestive smiles not... you being a mumbling, blushing mess.
he was super surprised when you walked in, holding a colorful bouquet of random flowers and shoving it at him, mumbling something so quickly he failed to catch it the first time
"i... what?"
"oh for the love of yoba, i said i like you romantically."
speechless, fucking speechless. so, he does the next best thing instead of talking. he takes you in his arms and pulls you in for soft, tender kiss
he deepens the kiss and presses you against the wall-- there really are times when actions speak louder than words
#sdv hcs#sdv headcanons#stardew headcanons#stardew hcs#sdv alex#sdv sam#sdv sebastian#sdv shane#sdv harvey#sdv elliot#stardew valley#asks open#stardew valley hcs#sdv bachelors#stardew bachelors
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Hi there! For the two-part drabble, may I request Deckerstar in situation 13 (someone does something stupid) with sentence 6 ("Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.") Thank you, and I've really really been enjoying your the updates on your Planning a Hell of a Wedding fic!
Hey! It took me two months (including more than one month of writing) but I've now finally finished your prompt. Another anon had requested 25 (being somewhere you're not supposed to) + 6 and dear @my-crazy-awesome-sox had requested 26 (a very cheesy date) + 6, so I've merged all your prompts into one 7K+ long 'drabble'. Hope you don't mind!
And I'm glad you like the updates on PHW! I'll try to write some more now that I've finished this.
Hope you like this!
Also, an immense special thanks to @my-crazy-awesome-sox for helping me with this fic. She truly has been a godsend, and a lot of the wording (especially in the later parts) is kindly and almost directly borrowed from her mind. Thank you again, babe!
Also thanks to @lightbringer-666 for assisting me with some French. If all the French isn't perfect, it's because I also googled my way to a lot of it. Apologies in advance (and please do let me know if there's anything I should change!)
Someone does something stupid + being somehwere you're not supposed to + a very cheesy date + 'Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.'
Rated M. Post 5B - contains spoilers!
Read on AO3 (includes list with English translations)
It’s ridiculous, really. The butterflies fluttering in her stomach like she’s a schoolgirl waiting for her prom date. It’s not even their first date. It’s not even their second. The thing is, between becoming God and Consultant, revising a few laws of the cosmos, fixing some bugs in humanity, bringing Dan to Heaven, and going to therapy, she and Lucifer haven’t had much time for, well, each other. At least not in ways that didn’t involve discussions about the redesign of the afterworld and how to sate world hunger. So yes, she is a little giddy with excitement at the thought of having a whole evening to themselves—no celestial craziness. Just the two of them and a bottle of the restaurant’s finest.
If Lucifer would just show up.
She checks her phone. 06:14. Unlike last time she anxiously waited for him in a restaurant, there’s a text.
Running a bit late. Please forgive me. Can’t wait to see you ❤
And one more.
Sorry. Can’t wait to see you naked*
Chloe shakes her head, a stupid smile spreading across her face. She resists typing back a flirty reply—he’ll be with her in a minute, and she is nota schoolgirl—and puts her phone back in her clutch. Hands trembling a little, she smooths out invisible creases in the dress he’s bought her. It’s short and tight, of course, but perfectly so. Reaching mid-thigh, with a small slit revealing a bit more of her left thigh. Black, unsurprisingly; he still hasn’t gotten over how delectable she looked in the LBD she wore on their last ‘date’. And this one makes her legs look even longer, which is undoubtedly the primary reason Lucifer picked it. Still, it isn’t skimpy. He could have opted for a deep neckline and cold shoulders—she almost expected him to when he said he’d bought her a dress—but he didn’t. Instead, the short and skin-tight skirt is perfectly balanced with a high neck and long bell sleeves that are cut open just above her joints, making the soft fabric flow around her bare underarms. She likes it—would probably have bought it herself if it weren’t crazy expensive. Likes how it makes her feel both sexy and classy and most of all comfortable, likes that he knows her so well.
She fidgets with her earring and traces the rim of her empty wine glass with her fingertip, watching people as much as she can from their semi-private corner. She spots an Oscar-winning film director, a retired NFL player, that pop star Lucifer pretends to hate, and just how expensive isthis place?
She’s immediately distracted by the shift in the air and the sound of Italian loafers approaching her.
‘My me, Detective!’
His brown eyes roam her figure as she stands to kiss him. Their lips meet in a soft peck that could easily have turned into more if Lucifer hadn’t pulled away to look her up and down.
‘You look like a goddess.’
Chloe snorts and chuckles, not yet used to the title he insists is hers if she’ll have it. She puts a hand on his chest, gazing up at him with a smile.
‘You don’t look too bad yourself.’
He hums and leans in for another kiss, but something comes between them this time. They both look down—at a dozen red roses.
‘Those for me?’ she asks, warmth spreading in her chest.
Lucifer hands her the bouquet with a nod and that soft smile she loves more than anything. He pulls out her chair, a gentle hand on her shoulder as she sits down, and sits down himself.
There’s a card nestled between the velvet petals: ‘For the Detective & Consultant’, her old and new moniker scribbled side by side in his annoyingly elegant handwriting. The latter nickname, however, is written in smaller, cramped letters—an afterthought. She smiles.
She turns the card, expecting to find a dirty, eye-roll-deserving comment on the back. But there’s no lewd joke or naughty promise.
It simply says, ‘I love you.’
Her heart swells, filling her chest till it aches. It’s all so new still. Not the love between them, but how it’s uninhibited now. It’s not like they don’t have their obstacles—just yesterday they had a fight—but there’s no doubt anymore, no voices telling them some dreams simply cannot be. They might have a whole universe to deal with, but for the first time ever, things between them are easy. No words are left unsaid. No feelings are squashed. No time is wasted. Every day is spent wrapped in each other’s love. Finally.
‘I love you too,’ she tells him, and he lights up, amazed. Confident. Their hands find each other on the table, fingers intertwining.
A waiter comes by with two menu cards and a vase for the flowers. Chloe reads through the menu carefully, pretending to know what kind of food hides behind the fancy French names. Lucifer sees right through her, sighs, and orders some hors d’œuvres, two of something she couldn’t pronounce if she tried, and a bottle of red.
‘So, were you stuck in traffic, or…?’ Chloe asks him with a glint in her eye as the waiter pours her a generous glass of wine. The celestial being with the supernatural metabolism can drive home.
The being in question looks confused for a moment before he answers, ‘Ah, no. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ For a brief second, he looks at her as if he’s apologising for more than tonight, but she strokes his knuckles and smiles at him, you’re here now, and he moves on to explain himself. ‘I just couldn’t find this bloody suit. Only when I’d ransacked the house did I realise it was still at the penthouse, so I had to make a detour.’
He is a little excused; so many things are impossible to find right now, with more or less unpacked boxes spread out between her apartment, Lux, and their new home. In hindsight, moving in together while taking over the almighty family business probably wasn’t the best idea, but they’ll get settled soon enough. Besides, right now, what’s important is that Lucifer was late because of a wardrobe crisis, and she will not let that slide.
‘You couldn’t just wear one of your three hundred other suits?’
A flicker of hurt and sheepishness flashes across Lucifer’s face.
‘Well, this one is special.’
Chloe takes in his suit: the navy jacket, the matching waistcoat, the royal blue shirt.
‘Oh.’
He smirks at her as heat creeps up her cheeks (so much for not being a schoolgirl).
‘You remember?’
She does. Of course, she does. She remembers vividly—how shocked he’d been at first, how new and soft his lips had felt against hers. How they’d held onto each other until the sun was setting and she really did have to go home and feed Maze and Trixie.
She also remembers how she, later, behind closed lids, had ripped off the shirt and waistcoat in desperate need. How it’d earned her a husky chuckle and a breathy ‘D’tective!’, and the sinful Heaven that was his hot and open mouth.
‘You okay, darling?’ Lucifer looks at her, his expression somewhere between concerned and amused. His thumb brushes the back of her hand.
Chloe takes a sip of wine and clears her throat. Adjusts her necklace.
‘Yeah, just, you know. Reminiscing.’
He studies her flushed face for a second before his curious smile spreads into a full-blown Cheshire grin.
‘You had a wet dream about me, didn’t you?! After our first kiss?’
Chloe glares at him. ‘Say it a little louder for the people in the back, will ya?’ He opens his mouth, and she immediately feels the need to clarify, ‘Do not say it a little louder for the people in the back.’
His smile doesn’t falter. ‘I’m just ecstatic to know our first kiss left you all hot and bothered. I mean, not that I’m surprised.’ He brings his wine glass to his lips and lets go of her hand to gesture down himself.
Chloe rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah, like you didn’t go home and wanked yourself blind that night.’
He laughs, surprised by her bluntness, and shamelessly answers, ‘Why, of course I did. That night, other nights. Before and after that kiss. This morning. You serve as quite the spank bank, my dear.’
She definitely doesn’t blush at that. But she does glance down at his waistcoat, at the soft skin and hard muscles she knows hide beneath it. She gives him a slow and dirty smirk, appreciative.
‘You too, baby.’
Lucifer raises an eyebrow, his eyes darkening. Much to Chloe’s satisfaction, his neck and cheeks redden a little. Then he gives her a lopsided grin, smug and impressed.
‘Pray tell, Detective.’ His eyes glide down her face, her chest, her stomach, and slowly back up again.
In another time, she would have given him a stern look and told him it was none of his business, but she doesn’t. She also doesn’t tell him about lonely nights and long showers and crying his name into her pillow when they were still just friends. Instead, she leans across the table and half-whispers—
‘If you behave yourself tonight, I might show you.’
He gulps. Squirms a little in his seat, and—when he’s regained his composure and quite indiscreetly adjusted himself under the table—leans forward till there’s only mere inches between their faces.
‘Is that a promise?’ His voice is low and husky, his breath hot against her face. His eyes drop to her lips.
‘Pardon, monsieur, mais l’entrée est prête.’
They lean back in their seats and turn to the poor, young waiter, who’s balancing two seemingly heavy plates, a carafe of water, and a basket of crusty bread in his arms.
‘Lovely!’ Lucifer’s eyes follow the food as the waiter puts it down in front of them. ‘Merci beaucoup, Olivier.’
Olivier smiles at Lucifer, shy but with a look in his eyes Chloe knows all too well. She doesn’t blame him.
‘Ça va?’ Lucifer asks, his voice lined with genuine fondness.
Olivier nods. ‘Oui, ça va. Et toi?’
Lucifer looks to Chloe, beaming. He takes her hand on the table and interlocks their fingers again.
‘Tout va très bien,’ he answers, looking back up at Olivier with a dazzling smile.
Olivier’s eyes drop to their hands and, probably, to the ring, white and pearlescent, on Chloe’s third finger. His lips tug up at the corner.
‘Je peux voir ça. Félicitations!’ Before Lucifer can respond to that, whatever it means, Olivier gestures towards their food. ‘Et bon appétit.’
Lucifer replies with a friendly ‘merci’ and calls out something like ‘Salue ton père de ma part!’ as Olivier walks off.
Chloe stares at Lucifer, twirling the smashed bullet around her neck between her fingers.
‘What?’ he asks, curious.
She tilts her head, smiling. ‘French suits you.’
He smiles back, lasciviously. ‘Yeah?’
‘Mm-hm.’
The look he gives her leaves no doubt that, sooner or later, he’ll be whispering foreign phrases against her skin.
But right now, they have other appetites to sate. They dig into the first course, and the (assumedly) insanely high prices suddenly make sense, because it is frigging good. The main course is even more delicious—divine, actually, to the point where Chloe has to ask Lucifer if he accidentally spiked the food with a blessing or two. He assures her it’s all Olivier’s father, no holiness involved, apart from Chef Beaumont’s heavenly cœeur de filet de bœuf. Chloe moans in agreement, savouring every bite.
He watches her with a smile, jokingly apologising for not serving her grilled cheese, and she makes a bad joke about this date being cheesy enough as it is. Because it is cheesy. Him buying her a dress, bringing her red roses, the love note, the candlelit restaurant, the French food, not to mention the suit. It’s like a rom-com parody.
But it’s also perfect. It’s everything she’s longed for, an over-the-top romantic date night with her- with her partner. A date that isn’t cut short by a horny stewardess (may she rest in peace) or a failed attempt at exorcism; where Lucifer actually shows up and isn’t just trying to outdo another man; where Chloe isn’t trying to make him ‘do something good for a change’; and their parents aren’t tagging along on a headache-inducing surprise double date that is also a sting in disguise.
So, in some ways, it is kinda their first date.
And it’s a really, really nice date.
They laugh—they laugh so much. More than they’ve done in the past few months combined. Or so it feels, at least.
They laugh, and they talk. About movies they cried to, favourite drinks, and how they’re gonna paint the living room. About the summers spent under the plum tree in Nana’s garden, and all the pranks pulled in the gilded meadows of Heaven. About chasing Amenadiel through the clouds, and how Chloe always wanted a sibling. About her short-lived Hollywood experience and that one time she may have gotten a little high at a Backstreet Boys concert. (He seems impressed by that, her ‘abhorrent’ taste in music aside.) They exchange secrets they never told anyone, stories of bad kisses—Jed used too much tongue; Will was always better with words—and tales from drunken nights out. They reminisce on the first time they met—how annoying she’d found him, how compelling he’d found her—and the many, many cases, some really weird, that first encounter led to.
They talk about Dan.
About missing him, even though he’s making waffles with Charlotte now.
About Trixie, and how therapy seems to be helping her, too. How she still sometimes breaks down crying, but no longer crawls into their bed in the middle of the night, shaking and gasping for air. How she’d laughed the other day, and it’d made them both cry. How incredibly strong she is, that little urchin.
They talk about going to Paris one day, all three of them—the French do make excellent chocolate cakes—or maybe somewhere else she wants to see, once everything is calmer. They talk about some of the prayers Lucifer has been hearing, about faith and free will, what they miss about solving crimes together, what they don’t miss, and how they’re still very much partners, even more so now—in every corner of life.
They talk till their cheeks hurt from smiling and Chloe’s half-drunk on expensive Burgundy. Lucifer asks for the cheque, their food long gone, and pays with cash, making sure to leave a tip possibly the size of Olivier’s monthly salary.
They leave the restaurant giggling about a stupid joke Lucifer makes, his hand splayed out on the small of her back. Her own hand is placed much lower than what is decent for such a fancy place like this, practically cupping his ass, but she’s tipsy enough not to care, and he doesn’t seem to mind the attention. It’s his own fault, anyway, for having his pants tailored to hug his butt like this.
Naturally, Lucifer drives. He doesn’t hold back his comments on how slow and boring her car is, but at least he stays somewhere close to the speed limit. She wishes he’d also wear a seatbelt, and keep both hands on the wheel, but his palm is nice and warm on her thigh, and she trusts he’ll get them home safely. She leans back in her seat, her head comfortably buzzing from wine and him, and watches the blurry city lights through the window. He’s turned down 2ndStreet.
‘Where are we going?’ She looks over at him, curious.
He smiles in the shadows, his fingers stroking the skin left exposed by the slit in her dress. His touch leaves hot, tingling paths on her thigh.
‘I thought we’d go for a second desert.’
Chloe is beyond full, her dress stretched over her now slightly rounder belly, and she can think of other things she’d rather do (things that include pinning Lucifer to their bed and making him groan and beg and laugh), but she’ll never say no to a freshly brewed latte and watching Lucifer obscenely enjoy some Sicilian pastry.
She turns up the radio, fumbling a bit, and closes her eyes with a smile, more content than she’s been in… a long time. His hand stays on her thigh as they move through the night, fingers tapping to the beat of the songs against her skin, creeping higher, teasing, just enough to make her breath hitch, but nothing more, and then back down again. Maybe they’ll just take that latte to-go.
The car comes to a final halt, and first then does Chloe realise they haven’t stopped outside the late-night café and bakery that’s opened down on Spring Street.
‘Lucifer, what’—she looks around, double-checking—‘what are we doing at the back entrance to the precinct? You said we were getting desert.’
He leans across the centre console, fingers spreading on her thigh, and brings their faces so close their noses touch. Chloe swallows.
‘We are,’ he assures her with a wolfish grin, his gaze lingering hungrily on her, and she could jump him right then and there. But he takes his hand off her body and clicks her seatbelt free, pulls the key out of the ignition and exits the car. He strides to her side and opens the door for her, gentlemanly as ever, and she watches him with narrowed eyes as she takes his hand and steps out, sceptical even in her cloud of lust and inebriation.
He heads directly for the back entrance and opens the black iron door with ease, rudely ignoring the state-of-the-art security locks. A part of her knows she should stop him right there and give him a stern talking-to about respecting human laws—he still can’t do whatever the hell he likes just because he’s God now. But another part, the part of her who helped him empty two bottles of French wine, really wants to step over that threshold, to intertwine their fingers and go on a late-night adventure. And that part of her must overpower the other, because she lets him snake his arm around her waist and lead her through the door and inside the familiar building.
She senses him grinning by her side, his fingers curling around her hip in a deliciously tight grip that only stokes the heat pooling low in her belly. He takes her down the corridor, around the corner, and then they’re there, in the middle of the precinct. Everything is covered in darkness, the wide, open space only illuminated by a never-resting info screen and the purplish glow from the vending machine. Still, she can make out the shape of their desk, the door to Ella’s lab, the interrogation room. The fridge in the breakroom still hums obnoxiously, and the air smells like strong coffee and sugary glaze—or maybe that’s just a phantom. Either way, it all tugs at her heart, beckons her down memory lane, and she lets herself be pulled. Through the good, the bad, and the crazy.
Lucifer is quiet beside her, probably lost in nostalgia himself, or maybe just letting her have this moment. But not for long. With titillating eagerness and a devilish smirk, he wraps his fingers around her wrist and pulls her by the hand—towards the evidence closet.
He presses her up against the door, his body hot and hard against hers, and pins her hand against the cold glass of the frosted window. His dark eyes sparkle with mischievous excitement.
‘There’s something we never got to try.’
Her pulse quickens, blood humming loud and hot.
‘Lucifer, we can’t.’ She tries to sound firm around her suddenly heavy breaths and dry throat, but he doesn’t seem discouraged in the least.
He leans in, closer, his smirking lips brush against her ear. ‘Can’t we, now?’
And as if he hadn’t done enough already, he takes her earlobe between his teeth and bites it.
Chloe smothers a gasp.
‘We shouldn’t.’ She puts her hand on his chest and pushes her head against his, nudging him away from her neck so she can thinkfor a second. He reluctantly obeys and settles for placing his hands on her sides, dangerously high, thumbs almost stroking the underside of her breasts. She pushes his hands down to her waist. ‘We shouldn’t have sex in Evidence—shouldn’t have broken into the precinct in the first place. I mean, do you want us to get arrested?’
He only laughs at that, of course. ‘I’m God, darling. I won’t get arrested.’
Chloe rolls her eyes. He would probably charm his way out of it if they were caught, God or not—but that doesn’t make any of this okay. She’s about to tell him as much when he adds-
‘But if you wanted to cuff me and tell me what to do, resisting would be the last thing on my mind. In fact, I’m sure we can find some cuffs lying about-’
‘Lucifer, no.’
Her tone is sharper than she’d intended. He pulls back a little, studying her face. His eyes flicker to her parted lips, her flushed, heaving chest, and then back to her determined gaze. His brows furrow.
‘Do you really not want to do this?’ His voice is soft, serious.
They stare at each other, hot breaths mingling. He’s still pressed up against her, a six-foot-three wall of muscle and love, and his scent—spicy cologne and smoke—floods her head like ambrosia, a dizzying fog of him. Her skin burns beneath his palms, his touch sending embers through the expensive fabric and down, flames licking at her inner thighs. Her heartbeat thumps in her ears.
‘We don’t even work here anymore,’ she rasps, deflecting his question. It’s a weak excuse, but she is fraying at the edges.
A salacious smile forms on Lucifer’s face. ‘We’ll just pretend we do.’
He takes a step back, putting a more ‘professional’ distance between them, adjusts his lapels and attempts at a neutral expression. ‘You wanted to show me something in Evidence, Detective?’
And there’s that word again, want—because she still hasn’t answered his question and her consent means more to him than anything. She loves him for that, she really does, but right now, it’s not that simple. She wants, every cell in her body wants, wants him to shove her into that closet and take her apart. Has wanted it for so long, thought about it for years—at her desk, in the shower, while sitting next to him during interrogations. Thought about it in the self-same evidence closet, as she was pressed up against the wall by someone else. Imagined tugging at his hair, feeling him between her legs—even had to swallow his name. She still thinks about it, thought about it the other night, briefly, wistfully, while making a cup of tea. Thought about how much fun they could have had, sneaking off to secret corners of the precinct like two horny teenagers—if it hadn’t been for, well, mostly Michael, and all the chaos he’d released upon their lives.
In fact, it’s only fair they have at least one reckless, semi-public rendezvous. Just one. To make up for the honeymoon phase they never really had. With all the hurt and heartbreak they’ve had to go through, alone and together, they deserve to have one night of stupid fun.
On the other hand, and this is why it’s not that simple, it’s a bad idea. It’s a really bad idea. And also, pretty illegal. If she asked him to, if she said no now, he would take her home and push her up against the nearest surface, bury himself in her faster than any of them could get their clothes off, bring her to ecstasy-
But it’s not the same. It just isn’t.
With as much innocence she can muster, she looks up at his anticipatory face and puts her hand on the doorknob. The cold steel is a soothing balm against her burning skin.
‘I do want to show you something in Evidence.’
He lights up like it’s a declaration of love, all unrestrained enthusiasm.
‘After you, darling.’
Their lips crash against each other before the door is even closed. He pushes her backwards in the semi-darkness, between shelves and boxes, hands low on her hips. His fingers dig softly into her ass as they stumble towards a sliver of wall together, panting and laughing against each other’s mouths. He doesn’t break contact with her lips as he quickly sheds his jacket on the way and throws it over his shoulder, for the moment uncaring of dirt and creases. Then her back hits the wall with a thunk and she’s instantly struck by déjà vu, until Lucifer grabs her thigh inside the slit of her dress, and the unwelcome memory quickly evaporates in the heat of their clashing bodies as he wraps her bare leg around his waist and pins her to the wall with the hard press of his hips. Their unison groans fill the cramped space.
‘We shouldn’t be here,’ she murmurs breathlessly against his lips before opening her mouth to let his tongue back in. He tastes like wine and crème brûlée.
He hums in disagreement. ‘We should always be here, Detective.’ With the hand still on her ass, he pushes their bodies impossibly closer together and rocks against her. She moans, despite herself.
‘We- I-‘ Chloe stammers, leaning her head back as he kisses his way down her neck, her mind and body pulling in different directions. ‘This is- why am I letting you get away with this?’
She feels him smirk against her throat. His hand slowly glides up her inner thigh—her pulse quickening with every inch—until his thumb brushes past damp fabric.
‘Because you like me.’ His beard rasps against her hot skin in the crook of her neck, a contrast to his soft lips placing slow, open-mouthed kisses from her jaw to her collar. ‘Because you love me.’
Chloe scoffs.
‘Do I love you?’ she questions, her breathing erratic, her eyes turned to the ceiling as he sucks a mark onto her neck. With the hand that is still between her legs, he pushes her underwear to the side and rubs against her, nice and slow. ‘Yes.’ Her gasped answer has a proud, almost victorious chuckle rumbling from his chest.
‘But do I like you?’—she bites her lip and stifles another moan as his fingers press just right—‘That’s still up for debate.’
He breaks off the assault on her neck and looks up at her, eyes black with desire.
‘Allow me to try and tip the scales, then.’
She’s bereaved of his fingers as his hand moves to the edge of her underwear, pulling it down as he sinks to his knees. She almost stumbles when he slips it over her feet, but he grabs her leg, steadying her, and helps her out of her stilettos. Once she’s barefoot, his warm palms slide up the side of her legs, pushes the hem of her dress up a few inches, and then his mouth is on her.
He licks her, slowly, tenderly. She reaches down to pull at his hair, commanding him to give her more, to take more, and he does. He starts feasting on her, all tongue and lips and-
‘God, yes.’
He chuckles smugly into her core. ‘I do love it when you moan my name, darling.’ Eyes fixed on hers, he gives her a nice, long lick before he dives back in. He kisses her clit, sucks it, circles it, laps at her like he can’t get enough, and she’s reduced to a quivering, whimpering mess. She bucks against his face, needing more, and he does that thing that she likes, tongue flicking her clit, warm and wet, as he pushes a finger inside her.
Her eyes clench shut, her head falls back against the wall. She doesn’t bother holding back her groan this time.
Lucifer hums against her, low and greedy, taking as much as he can, before he pulls away with ragged breaths. ‘Ma déesse, que tu as bon gout.’
The meaning is forever lost on her, but his hungry tone, the way his tongue wraps smoothly around the French syllables, the words dripping like sin from his glistening lips, sends warm shivers down her spine.
He slows down his pace inside her, places kisses on her lower belly, seeks her ticklish spots and the ones that make her breath hitch, and then trails down to her hips, studying her sharp bone with his lips and his teeth, before moving down to her thigh, stubble prickling her tender skin. As if he’s got all the time in the world, he lets his mouth travel to the insides of her legs, already spread for him, and kisses a path up her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where she aches with need,but never quite there. His finger, still moving slowly—too slowly—curls a bit, reaches that spot deep inside her that usually makes her see stars, but he pulls back before she’s even done gasping.
‘Lucifer,’ she breathes, a threat and a plea.
He places one last kiss to her sensitive thigh, nuzzles his nose against her heat, before his tongue finally finds her clit again and his finger starts pumping inside her, fast and hard. Then faster, harder, and, fuck, deeper.
‘Baby,’ she begs him to continue, fire spreading through her body, from her curling toes to her already heated cheeks.
He slows down for a second, and she reaches down to scratch at his scalp in frustration but quickly forgives him when he adds another finger and resumes his perfect pace, thrusting up in her to the beat of her racing heart.
‘Je veux te faire jouir.’ His thumb replaces his tongue as he looks up at her, eyes sparkling with lust and determination, but also patience. Like he could do this for hours, the whole night, as long as she falls apart around his tongue and fingers in the end.
He doesn’t need all night, though. She’s close, so close, can feel the beginning of that blissful high burning in her lower belly, between her thighs, where his mouth licks and nibbles and sucks. A building warmth pumping through her veins. She grabs at his hair, wraps her leg around his shoulder and pushes his face closer into her heat, needing that last-
‘Fuck, right there,’ she gasps. Right there right there right there.
He smirks against her, always eager to please, and does as she says. As she’s teetering on the edge, he curls both fingers inside her, goes impossibly deeper, and reaches the same spot as before, except this time, he doesn’t stop, and she comes with a shudder and a gasped ‘fuck!’ as he licks her through it.
‘Tu es tellement belle, ma chérie,’ he tells her, voice soft with awe as she comes down from her high and opens her eyes. She understands enough of the words to smile down at him, at his dishevelled hair, his swollen lips, and warm, chocolatey eyes.
‘You too, baby.’
She still hasn’t caught her breath when he, after wiping his mouth on her thigh, slowly rises from his feet and starts making his way up her body. His fingers skate lightly up her dress, his knuckles brushing against her rising and falling ribs as his hands sneak higher and higher, closer and closer. With a feather-light touch, he starts tracing the curves of her breasts, deliberately avoiding her aching nipples. He teases her with his fingers, kisses her neck, lips trailing, hot and slow, up to her jaw and the sensitive spot behind her earlobe.
‘J’ai envie de toi,’ he says into her ear, his voice rough with want and determination.
Chloe can’t take it anymore. She fists his waistcoast in one hand and grabs him by the hair with the other to pull him up into a hard kiss. He tries to stay in control, to hold back his obvious desire for just a little longer, but he quickly loses the battle and lets a bit of hunger take over. They pour equal heat into the kiss, tongues pressing and teeth clashing as their mouths slide against each other. She threads her fingers through his curls, he bites her lip, and they both groan and gasp into the kiss.
Chloe’s the one to pull away, needing air sooner than him. They’re looking into each other’s eyes, both panting, when he says it again, ‘J’ai envie de toi.’ This time, breathy desperation shines through his voice. ‘Je veux être en toi.’
And then they’re kissing again and both of them are working at his belt and pants in a flurry of hands until he’s finally inside her with one quick thrust. He fills her to the hilt, deliciously stretching her inner muscles, warm and hard. For a moment, they’re both so overcome they can only pause and breathe, Lucifer’s forehead cradled in the crook of her shoulder as her hand gently strokes the short hairs on the back of his neck.
He pulls back to look deeply into her eyes, and starts off slow. Not teasing, just tender. He kisses her cheeks and neck, every inch of skin he can reach with his lips, and whispers sweet nothings against her skin. She can’t know for sure, of course, because it’s still in French, and she doesn’t catch all of it, the sounds alien and muffled—‘t’es incroyable’, she hears, ‘j’suis fou amoureux de toi’—but something about his tone tells her it’s not as dirty as whatever he was saying before. Still, it makes her just as wet, the words tingling across her skin.
He picks up the pace, wraps her legs tighter around him, and pushes her harder against the wall. His hand grasps her breast roughly, seeking purchase, then rhythmically strokes over her nipple in apology, and she moans her relief. The shelves on either side of them hit the wall with a consistent thump, thump, thump as he thrusts up into her, fucks her, their harsh pants mingling in the small space between their parted lips. Chloe claws at Lucifer’s shoulders and back, hands scrambling for something to hold onto. Even through the two layers of fabric, she can feel his warmth and muscles, and a sudden urge bubbles up within her. With desperate fingers, she starts undoing the buttons on his shirt, but it takes too long—she needs him—so she rips open both shirt and waistcoat and frantically pushes them off his shoulders. He pins her against the wall with a hard thrust, letting go of her thigh and breast to shake the material onto the floor, and Chloe scratches at his finally bare back and shoulders, nails digging into slick, freckled flesh. She arches back into the wall and bares her neck for him to nip and kiss.
‘Fuck, Lucifer!’ she whines. ‘Oh, God, baby, fuckyes!’
He growls at the sound of her noises and bites her ear.
‘J’adore baiser avec toi.’ One hand slides down to her ass, holding her and pushing her dress higher up as the other bites into the now bare skin at her waist. The sharp touch sends a jolt down to her throbbing clit, making her clench tighter around him. ‘J’adore ton corps. T’es vraiment une déesse.’ The last word is a groan against her lips as he kisses her.
It’s wet, messy, and so delicious they both grasp tightly onto each other’s mouths with lips, tongues and teeth, neither of them wanting to ever let go.
‘Je veux t’embrasser,’ Lucifer pants when they break apart for a second, his gaze fixed on her mouth as their lungs fight for air. His dark eyes soften when they look into hers. ‘Chaque jour de ma vie,’ he adds reverently as he leans in. ‘Pour toujours.’ And then he kisses her again, like he wants it to last for all eternity.
His thrusts turn slower and deeper as they kiss, harder, until kissing becomes panting into each other’s mouths and Chloe’s head falls back in sheer pleasure. He tightens his grip on her ass and runs the hand on her waist up her side, brushing his thumb over her nipple as he passes her breast, up her neck, and cups the side of her face. She lets their eyes meet, and the way he’s looking at her, with absolute awe and gratitude, makes her heart flutter and her hips buck against his bare stomach. Her hands slide from where they’ve been clutching his mess of a hair to his back, trailing down to where he’s most sensitive. She places her palms on either side of his spine and presses lightly, carefully.
‘Tu me-’ he cuts off with a gasp when her nails skim over his hidden wings, ‘Tu me rends- fucking hell, Chloe.’
She keens at the guttural sound of her name. He leans his forehead against hers with a grunt, the slight change in angle making his rhythm falter, one hand slamming against the wall next to her. She watches the rest of his control slip through glazed eyes. She did this to him. She rendered God himself lost to his own bliss. That knowledge itself is nearly enough to push her over the edge.
‘Close,’ she breathes.
He grabs both her thighs with strong hands and presses her flush up against the wall, going impossibly deeper inside her. She hisses through her teeth and sputters all kinds of incoherent, unholy prayers into the sweltering air between them. Every hard thrust pushes her closer to ecstasy.
‘You make me so happy,’ Lucifer whispers, sounding so wrecked and raw her eyes clench shut. ‘I want- I hope- fuck- I hope I make you, nnf, just as happy.’
‘You do, baby. You make me so- so-’
Heat floods her veins as she comes, the sweet tension snapping all at once. She cries out, arches her back, and moans long and low as he continues to fuck her through it. His thrusts are quick and inelegant, his arms and thighs trembling, and she knows he’s close. She intentionally clenches around him, whispers his name, and then he too is tumbling over the edge, the only type of falling she ever wants him to feel again.
They smile at each other as they try to catch their breaths, sweaty foreheads still pressed together.
‘I love you,’ he says. ‘So much.’
She hums with happiness, her heart pleasantly aching at the sound of the words he couldn’t say the last time they were here.
‘I love you too, babe.’ She reaches up to lazily nuzzle the hairs at the nape of his neck, still smiling.
‘Maybe you even like me?’
She lets out a breathy chuckle and slides down the wall to land on her bare feet. Her legs are… wobbly, to say the least. Lucifer smirks at her.
‘We’ll see about that.’ She smoothes out her dress as he tucks himself back into his pants and fastens his belt. ‘If anyone ever finds out about this, your chances are pretty bad, buddy.’
She collects his clothes from the floor and helps him into his shirt. Two buttons are missing, lost to the force of her hasty ripping. It gives her an odd sense of satisfaction, the fact that the shirt he wore when they first kissed—the shirt she dreamt of tearing off his body—now is marked by their little escapade. (At least until he gets his tailor to fix it.)
‘Well, I’ll just have to keep trying to convince you then, won’t I?’ He licks his lips and lifts his eyebrows as he offers her a hand to help her up from the floor once she’s put her shoes back on. Chloe bites her cheek so as to not smile at his suggestion and intertwines their fingers.
‘You can start by helping me assemble that new shelf system tomorrow,’ she tells him, waiting for him to groan in response, or mumble something about hiring some people to do it for them. But he doesn’t. He just opens the door for her and lets her go first with a soft smile on his still flushed face.
‘Anything for you, my love.’
The door shuts with a gentle click behind them.
#writing#deckerstar fanfiction#deckerstar#chloe decker#lucifer morningstar#lucifer#lucifer on netflix#fluff#smut#established deckerstar#lucifer is god#post 5b#post s5#two part drabble game
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