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succubusphan · 1 year

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Two Man Team - Chapter 1

Summary: This is the story of two struggling friends who after many trials and tribulations find their way back to each other and build the life they've always dreamed of.

Or how Phil changed his life by talking to random strangers on the internet.

Rating: E

Tags/warnings: Friends to lovers, Friends with benefits, mental health issues (mainly anxiety), Slow burn, Dan is a psych student. Canon divergence (the timeline is altered and some things never happened), Slutty Phil, Angst with a happy ending. The fic spans many years.

Author's Note: Written for the OSPBB 2023 @oldschoolpbb. Thank you @effingmeteors for being my life saviour and beta as usual and to my artist Lin @anironsidh.

Edits and the art will be added at some point, we are busy bees.

POSTING EVERY DAY UNTIL IT'S COMPLETED.

Total Word Count: 75k ish

Read on Ao3

CHAPTER 1: Somebody to Love

June 2005

Phil threw himself onto his bed and looked around at his neon green walls and carpet thinking how little time he had left in his childhood bedroom. He had one last summer in his hometown before uprooting his entire life and moving to York for uni. It was weird, in a way, to be in this sort of limbo where his basic education was over; he no longer felt like a child but didn’t feel like an adult either. It could be because he didn’t feel like he was fully himself, not to anyone he knew - not even his friends.

Could he really call them his friends if they didn’t know who he truly was, if he couldn’t share his attraction to boys like the others shared their crushes on girls and their flings? Maybe it wasn’t fair to think of them as near strangers, it was not their fault that he didn’t feel ready to talk about it. They had all been there for him his entire childhood and he still wasn’t ready. That was on him.

On the other hand, York presented him with a new opportunity, a chance to live his true life and finally get a boyfriend. That’s all he wanted, just - someone to cuddle with. Ok, also other stuff, but he wanted a proper boyfriend. It didn’t hurt to start looking now though.

Phil sat up and reached for his laptop, lifting the screen and connecting to the internet. He clicked on the Explorer icon and waited for everything to load for a few minutes. He logged into a random Yahoo chat room as per usual and greeted the 60 strangers chatting and sending emojis in the hopes of catching someone’s attention.

Snowdude: Hi. Anyone around 18? ;)

A private window popped up immediately.

DanTheMan: hi snowdude XD i’m dan

Snowdude: Hi. als?

DanTheMan: 16/m/reading. u?

Phil hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t often that dudes messaged him. Still, “Dan” was too young and still in school. Well, he didn’t have anything better to do than speak to him.

Snowdude: 18 m York. Are you in school?

DanTheMan: yeah just the A lvls to go. What’s ur favourrtie game?

Phil’s eyebrows shot up at the typo and he snorted.

Snowdude: Final Fantasy 7 is ace.

DanTheMan: ace XD favourite show?

Snowdude: Buffy obviously. What is this, an interview? What’s your favourite subject in school?

DanTheMan: ouch, geography and psych and theatre.

Snowdude: hate geo, you act?

DanTheMan: don’t laugh. i always have but i’m cool.

Snowdude: nothing wrong with it. I’m a terrible actor.

Looking at his ceiling, Phil felt bad for making Dan feel insecure by bringing up school, pointedly marking their age difference. He knew what it was like to be looked down upon by the older kids. He quickly typed another message.

Snowdude: I signed up to art because I thought it would be easy and almost failed. Seems like i suck at art.

DanTheMan: ROFL. ur weird.

DanTheMan: let’s be friends.

Snowdude: Lesbifriends

DanTheMan: forget it lol. I regret asking.

Snowdude: noooooooooooo

DanTheMan: i have to go my mums calling. add me on msn i’m [email protected]

Snowdude: Rawr xD. ACe. Good luck with homework

DanTheMan: fuckoff with your capitalistion and good grammra ttyl

And just like that, Dan exited their chat. Phil smiled and logged into MSN, hesitating only for a second before adding his new friend.

Ian opened their conversation with a buzz as per usual and invited him over to play games with the girls. He hesitated, but another notification popped up and it brought a smile to his face.

GoThic chiK (Anja): coming or not phL?

Phil rolled his eyes, at least Anja would be there and even if he didn’t like girls like that, Anja was always cool. She was like a girl, but also not. Well, she was a girl of course, but she felt like a guy, but not - like him. He didn’t fit in as the kind of man his dad wanted to see in his son and Anja didn’t impress her mother either. Maybe they were losers but they still had each other.

Phil Strikr: omw Annie tell Ian

GoTik chiK (Anja): told you to stop butcherin ma name.

Phil laughed and sent her a buzz before logging out and getting into his favourite blue jeans and a green T-shirt.

The night went by in a breeze, with loads of pizza, drinking and a few rounds of TEG that ended in disaster. He mostly enjoyed it until the topic of dating came up yet again. All the guys had some sort of girlfriend or arrangement and Phil had barely anything to show for. For the umpteenth time, Phil considered coming out to them but he could never bring himself to do it. Maybe one of these days when he was drunk enough.

“Phil, Phil!” Someone said.

Anja snapped her fingers in front of his eyes, startling him and causing him to drop the dice he had been shaking for who knows how long. “Mate, what is it with you today?”

“Uh, nothing. I was just thinking about Buffy,” he said.

Anja gave him a look that let him know she was not buying it, but the rest rolled their eyes and continued with their conversation. For a moment Phil thought he was off the hook but Ian looked at him expectantly.

“What?” Phil asked.

Ian sighed heavily. “Sandra asked about you again, mate. When are you going to ask her out?”

Phil tried not to look like a deer caught in the headlights. “I think it would be weird to date your cousin, we are like brothers at this point.”

Ian snorted and shook his head. “We are like brothers but not actually. It’s not like incest or anything.”

“Ew, don’t say that,” Phil said, paling at the thought of Sandra and her wandering hands. He was not going to repeat the mistake of asking her out. One sloppy kiss was more than enough.

Richard, Noah and Keith laughed at the face he pulled but Ian merely smiled at him.

“Oi! Phil is mine, let him be,” Anja said, shuffling closer to him and resting her hand on his thigh.

Phil’s eyes widened but she gave him a small wink before looking back at their friends.

“What? Are you his girlfriend now?” asked Richard with a frown.

“Yeah,” she said, looking uncomfortable at the question. Anja didn’t like Richard like that, she loved him as a friend, but he had a huge crush on her and he was terrible at hiding it. Phil didn’t need to read her mind to know she didn’t want to break his heart or risk their friendship but it was bound to happen eventually.

Wrapping his arm around Anja’s waist loosely, he set his head on her shoulder. “Tell Sandra I’m taken,” Phil said and Anja relaxed against him, letting her head gently rest on his.

Richard looked disappointed but didn’t press the issue any further.

Eventually, the board games stopped being fun and the alcohol ran out so they declared the party over. As soon as Phil said goodbye and stood from his spot Anja followed him, making the others laugh and howl at them, half whispering about what they were going to do in Phil’s bedroom.

Once they were out, Phil turned to look at her. “Do you want me to walk you home?” He asked, hopefully.

“Nah, I was expecting to crash in your bed.” She began the walk back home and Phil followed her.

“What?” Phil squeaked.

Anja laughed and turned towards him, but her eyes looked a bit misty. “Don’t be daft, it’s not that.” She poked him gently, looking into his eyes. “I just feel sad and I don’t wanna be alone right now. I know I can trust you like that.”

“Alright,” Phil said, still walking at her side. “Do you want to talk about it? What happened?”

Anja looked away from him, her eyes focusing on the moon for a moment as she spoke. “I was dating someone but they are not sure about it anymore and it sucks.”

Phil stopped walking and pulled her into a hug. “An- you know you can tell me anything, come stay with me too.”

“I know.” She returned the hug tightly only for a moment before stepping back. “Come on!” She said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. “Kath will be fuming if we are not there before midnight.”

He snorted and laced their fingers together. “I’ll tell my mum you call her Kath behind her back one day, you know?”

“Meh,” Anja shrugged. “She loves me. I’ll live.”

They stayed silent for most of the 20 minute walk home and had to sneak in, but soon enough they were in his room. Phil gave Anja a big T-shirt and a pair of joggers and slipped into his own pyjamas while she changed in the bathroom.

Five minutes later they were looking up at the ceiling as they lay under the covers in the small bed.

“Hey, Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Richard will get over his crush eventually?”

Phil turned on his side to look at her. “Probably, he has gotten over the others.”

She nodded. “Are you seeing anyone that you haven’t told us about?” she asked in a drastic change of topic.

Phil sputtered. “As if anyone would be interested.”

“You have pretty eyes and perfect eyebrows. I wish I had your eyebrows,” Anja said. “You should dye your hair black though, it would make your eyes pop.”

“I don’t know… Would you do it for me?”

“Of course, ginge,” She laughed.

“I’m not a ginger!” Phil whined.

“Course not.” She poked at his stomach. “Good night.”

“Good night, An,” he said and shut his eyes, letting sleep claim him.

---

It was a weird summer. Anja remained sad for the majority of it but refused to talk about her boyfriend, choosing to focus on giving Phil an extreme makeover instead. She dyed his hair black, took him to the mall to pick up black skinny jeans and to the stylist that had given her her emo haircut to tame his mane.

By the end of it, Phil had perfected a nice image for his MySpace page. He had even ventured into eyeliner for some pictures when he’d gotten bored waiting for Anja to get ready for a party. He’d enjoyed the results and even Ian and the guys said it looked cool on him. Even Dan thought he looked really cool when he saw the pics.

He got to talk to Dan quite a few times as well before going off to uni and caught up with life. It was amazing to learn that they were actually super compatible, liking many of the same games, music and shows. The best part was that Dan said there was a chance he would go to York like him so they could hang out and Phil liked the sound of that, even if Dan was still a full year away from it. Dan was honestly super cool and Phil really had come to consider him a friend in the last few months so it would be super fun to have someone close to hang out and play games with. It sounded like a great plan.

Daydreaming about their potential meet-up was a nice distraction from Dan’s home life, which seemed to be in constant turmoil as Phil came to find over time. There was a reason Dan barely mentioned his younger brother and he had vaguely complained about his father’s rage issues, so Phil always let Dan talk first, and let whatever was troubling him be aired so that he could offer his support or advice if it was needed. Phil also shared some of his issues and insecurities, but his problems were not nearly as bad as Dan’s so he tried to keep things on the positive side and help Dan out.

But Phil wasn’t expecting to catch Dan in a lie only weeks later. As it turned out, Dan had never been 16, he was a 14 year old kid. It was a silly lie, but it still hurt Phil, so he asked Dan to never lie to him again. Dan was very apologetic and begged him not to break their friendship, which Phil had briefly considered, but decided against, especially because of the kind of bullying Dan suffered at school on the regular. After the initial shock had worn off, Phil reassured him that they could be friends, even if they would have to be long distance.

Dan deserved to have supportive friends. He needed someone to be there for him and Phil knew he could be that someone. At an appropriate distance, of course.

It was a bit of a rough patch between them, but after they had resolved the issue, life went on as usual. Phil dived head first into his uni life and there were so many changes. He moved into the dorm and met new people at uni, but sadly, he wasn’t able to stay in touch with his friends back home as much as he’d have liked due to his schedule. In a way, he had inadvertently severed most contact with his life back home, but no matter how much things changed, some stayed the same: his lack of a love life and being trapped in the closet.

He decided that it was time to take his life by the horns and that marked the beginning of a new chapter for him, an exploring phase of sorts. After some consideration, he opened a profile on a dating website, hoping to find a nice guy he could date. His new look did seem to help a lot, but his popularity applied mostly to MySpace. The dating scene seemed a bit dry, or maybe he was just too awkward. There weren't a bunch of messages flooding his inbox by any means.

To be honest, he was starting to get really discouraged, thinking he would never meet someone, but his luck finally changed on a mighty weekend when in a hidden corner of a pub, he got his first taste of freedom. He was blonde and tall and three years older than Phil and his lips were on Phil’s, quickly taking him to heaven, making his blood rush south and his stomach tingle. His hands were inside Phil’s T-shirt and struggling with his jeans’ zipper in less than five minutes. It wasn’t too rough or something that Phil didn’t want, but the speed of it all scared him a bit. It was too much too soon and he wasn’t ready even though he wanted to be, so he took a step back and apologised.

“I’m sorry,” he said, still trying to catch his breath. “Listen, I’m not out yet, not even to my friends back home, my new uni friends or my roommates.”

The guy nodded and smiled at him. “That’s alright,” he said. “Could I get your phone number? Maybe we can meet up some other time.”

Phil nodded and saved it in the other’s phone, but he was not going to trick himself into thinking he was going to get a text. His chances were slim.

They parted ways with a quick kiss, which surprised Phil. He let out a deep sigh as he watched the blonde disappear into the crowd and surveyed the pub in search of his friends.

Towering over most people did come in handy and allowed him to locate his roommates in under a minute. Phil tried to put on a brave smile as he made his way to them and accepted a beer, taking a zip and groaning at the bitter taste. It was performative and he knew it, but he didn’t know what else to do, so he followed along with what everyone was doing. He got drunk - and even made out with a girl briefly just out of boredom.

He felt nothing, nothing at all, but his roommates cheered him on and the girl seemed happy enough.

That made one of them.

Once back in his room, Phil put his phone to charge and turned it on. There were a few missed calls and texts from Dan, asking if he was free to talk. Phil got a bad feeling about it and tried to call him but Dan didn’t pick up. Maybe it was too late and he had fallen asleep. Biting the inside of his cheek, Phil hesitated before sending a text.

“I’m sorry I missed your calls, I was out until just now and my phone had died X.x . I’m free to talk in the morning!”

Phil lay in bed for what seemed like forever, the room spinning a bit around him, as he thought about the blonde guy, the boring night, the girl he kissed - and Dan. He wished he would have stayed home and talked to Dan, maybe played some games, or talked about school. It was sad that he got along better with a 14 year old than his own friends. What did that say about him? He fell into a fitful night of sleep just as the sun rose above the clouds.

The talk with Dan didn’t come the next day, or the following one. In fact, Dan stopped replying entirely for over a week and Phil’s stomach was twisted into knots. Over twenty messages unanswered could only mean bad news, right?

The following weekend, Phil sent yet another text: “Please, Dan. Just let me know that you are ok.”

Ten minutes later, his phone finally vibrated. “im ok. stop.”

Phil’s eyes welled up with tears. “I’m so sorry, Dan. I’ve been worried about you. I went out and had so many calls and missed texts, I thought something had happened and you needed to talk. It’s ok if you don’t want to, I just didn’t want you to think that I didn’t care. Sorry I missed your call.”

His screen lit up with a call immediately and Dan’s raspy voice greeted him on the other side. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s ok,” Phil said, trying to calm himself down, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He swallowed thick and attempted a small smile, even if Dan could not see it. “What did you want to talk about?”

Dan was silent for a moment, but then he let out a tired sigh. “Nothing much, it’s fine.”

“You can tell me, you know you can,” Phil said with a frown.

“Last weekend I went to the mall and I had some problems with the usual shitheads…” he trailed off.

“Did they throw rocks at you again?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t care. And on Monday -” Dan paused.

“What happened on Monday?” Phil asked, frowning at the pain he could hear in Dan’s voice.

“One of the idiots grabbed me by the neck and slapped me for like 5 minutes,” Dan mumbled. “And I know what you’re going to say, one of the teachers saw and did nothing. He even laughed.”

“Dan,” Phil said, his heart breaking for his friend. “I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve any of that. I wish I could be there to help you.”

“It’s fine,” Dan said in a monotone voice. “I didn’t react, I didn’t want to give them that satisfaction.”

“It takes a lot of courage not to fight back. You were very brave.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Dan muttered. “Almost gave them another satisfaction.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m so tired sometimes, you know? Just so tired.” Then, Dan cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’ve been staying with my grandma since Tuesday, so I’m ok.”

Phil had to clear his throat too, trying not to get choked up by what Dan was implying. “You have to get good grades so you can get into uni and we can hang out, ok?”

Dan snorted. “As if you would hang out with me. You’re cool and I’m just a 14 year old loser.”

“You’re not a loser. You’re kind, and funny, and one of the coolest people I know. I know that one day you will be a great guy. Maybe you’ll be a famous actor, like you’ve always wanted.”

“Yeah… maybe,” Dan said. “Wanna play Mario Kart later? I have homework.”

Phil looked at the time, it was already late, but a few races wouldn’t hurt. “Sure. Text me when you’re done.”

“Thanks, Phil,” Dan said and Phil could picture a little smile on his face.

“No problem. See you later.”

“Yeah. Hey, can I follow your MySpace?” Dan asked.

“You can follow me anywhere,” Phil said. “We are friends.”

“Yeah, ok,” Dan snorted. “See you later, Philly.”

Phil rolled his eyes and hung up the phone.

Letting out a deep sigh, he decided to do the “adult thing” and study a little more for the exam he had the following morning so that he could join Dan online later. It was not a lot, but he felt better now that Dan knew Phil was on his side and he cared.

That night, Phil stayed on his DS until 4, but he managed to get a passing grade on the exam anyway. He rewarded himself with a 10 hour nap afterwards.

All through his first term at uni, Phil tried his best to keep in touch with Dan, but with his tight study schedule, the weekends pretending to be straight and attempting to not stress himself half to death with his new chaotic life, it was getting increasingly difficult.

Before long, Phil had to make a drastic choice. Something needed to change and he knew exactly what was the worst stressor for him: his straight-sex-maniac persona. And so it was decided.

He invited his four roommates to their very limited common space and paced in the square foot of floor he had available to himself waving his hands around without uttering a word until one of the guys asked if he was ok.

No, Phil was not ok at all, he was nearly crawling up the wall, so instead of giving a carefully planned and rehearsed speech, he stopped short of the wall, turned around and said: “I lied… I am not super experienced, I don’t have a lot of sex experience. In fact, I have zero experience, because… because I’m gay. I’m sorry that I lied, I just wanted you guys to like me, you are all so cool. I wanted to be your friend. I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand. I-”

Peter got up from the armrest of the sofa, causing Phil to take a step back just in case, and gave him a hard pat on the shoulder. “It’s ok. We are all figuring things out,” he said. “Also, Sarah will be happy to know that you are not disgusted by her presence, you’re just thick as all fuck and gay. Right, Sarah?”

“You like me?” Phil squeaked, turning towards the popular blonde girl. She was super nice and also pretty, but she was still not a guy, so there was not even a chance.

“I do. I did, but it’s ok. We can be friends,” she said with a smile.

“We can?” Phil croaked.

Sarah nodded. “You’re a good guy, Phil. Why wouldn’t I want to be your friend? And the fact that you are not opposed to a little makeup also plays in your favour.”

Peter clapped once and rushed to the fridge. He got the Malibu out of the freezer, messily pouring the alcohol into various glasses and mugs and other liquid-holding implements before turning around to face the group and raising his glass. “To Phil, the gayest emo York has ever seen - and a good friend too!” He downed his drink without waiting for anyone else.

Sarah walked over to the kitchenette and grabbed a shot glass, raising it towards Phil with an encouraging smile. “Cheers,” she said and downed her drink. She then passed a repurposed laundry detergent cap full of Malibu to Phil.

“Thank you,” he said, hoping that his eyes could convey the gratitude he felt. “Cheers,” he said and drank the entire thing.

Jimmy and Callan, who had been quiet until now, stood from the sofa and grabbed a mug each, raising them to Phil.

“To Phil, the gay emo,” said Callan with a smirk.

“We can still be friends even if you’re gay and your willy is bigger than all of ours,” Jimmy said with a nod and necked his drink.

Phil laughed. “Stop talking about my dick, Jimmy. You saw nothing!”

“I will when it stops looking back at me every time you sit,” Jimmy cackled.

Phil threw the laundry detergent cap at his head, hitting the target and causing the group to laugh. Hours later, he crawled into his tiny bed and felt the effects of all the alcohol he had consumed rock him gently, like the waves in the sea. He let out a sigh of relief, a smile appearing on his lips as he remembered how the night had started. His coming out had been awkward but still a success. Now he could truly be himself, at least in York, and he couldn’t wait until he was able to live his life fully everywhere.

#phanfic #phanfiction #phan #succubusphan fics #dan and phil #phan au #ospbb 2023

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steveskafte · 2 years

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FAIR SHARE OF WONDER By the front windows of this sleepy room, my mother has started her transplants under artificial light – headstart for the planting season. They'll get what they need to get going, a little more than the current length of days can offer. It started me thinking about the path I've taken on my way up from the bottom. Metaphorically, in a sense, but not entirely. In a break from normal practice, my father built his house with the bedrooms in the basement. So we all grew up sleeping better through hot summer nights, a little cooler for being half-buried. Waking up each morning with the earth all around, opening our curtains and peering out from windows resting at ground level; blinking back the early sun like mole people. Maybe that's why I've always felt comfortable in close quarters, looking for a way to give my life some welcoming restriction. My current life of everyday exploring sure didn't come natural, and you should never start believing I was born to adventure. Between the scattered hikes and days run through the forest, most of my childhood was inclined toward internal experiences. Reading books, watching movies, playing video games. Later, when I got interested in creating, I drew pictures, made 3D animations, and built a city out of Lego. When I started writing, it was exclusively poetry, something that only needed my mind to express. The wider world just wasn't out there calling me. The inner one had her fair share of wonder to offer. Something sort of broke when I really fell in love with movies during the fall of 2004. I'd always loved them, but now I was seventeen, and could stay up late watching whatever I wanted – whether it was approved by my parents or not. It was all those wild adventures, dramas, horror, sci-fi, and whatever else that woke up something dormant. I watched new ones every single night. But it was 2006 that finally changed me forever. I saw two incredible films by director Carroll Ballard that summer – The Black Stallion (1979) and Never Cry Wolf (1983) – and started asking why I didn't live those incredible places, wondering why I couldn't. When I bought my first camera, the purchase was motivated by a drive to tell similar stories to the ones that inspired me on screen. I was aiming to shape my world into those sorts of scenes, but the world I photographed slowly reshaped me instead. I often have to remind myself just how little time the average person spends outside. That doesn't make them different from me, just exactly like I once was. I can relate to the feeling of not knowing why to bother, how perpetual hibernation is really quite welcoming when you don't know what's out there. If all my photos have one great use and purpose, it's to remind their viewers that the world beyond a screen is as incredible as promised. For my part, at least, it's not invented, edited, altered, or re-contextualized. It's not built from scratch in my own image, but a true reflection of the life I'm living. Maybe it's the vitamin D talking, but if you're feeling low, dragging yourself into the light might be all that's begging. I never knew for sure until I left the basement. March 9, 2023 Beaconsfield, Nova Scotia Year 16, Day 5597 of my daily journal.

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thisbeatchachinglikemoney · 3 years

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We Are Bulletproof Pt. 2

Part 15 of the Boys with Luv series

Pairing: Reader x BTS, BTS x BTS

Summary: The members help Y/N through her recovery

Warnings: Mentions of rape, self-harm and suicidal thoughts, domestic abuse, kidnapping, PTSD flashbacks

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @fic-recs-by-moon, @luvtaeha, @aretha170, @xicanacorpse, @kookieebangtan, @fangirl125reader, @seoul9711, @channiespup , @lindsayjoy444, @fairygirl18, @black-rose-29, @bts-ot7-for-life, @meowmeowyoongles, @aclowe13, @cherryxholland, @potaetopic, @dustyinkpages, @njrwifey, @slut4matsukawa, @xyahrinx, @donghaesgirl91

AN: This is going to be quite a sensitive chapter, containing topics that could trigger some people. Please proceed with care. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and what you think of the series so far :) I purple you guys!

Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16

“Hyunjin?” Y/N called from her bed. It had been four days since she had been discharged from the hospital into the care of her younger brother and it had been over a week since she had seen her soulmates. Hyunjin had not allowed them to see her as he was convinced they had ulterior motives with her since they had allowed Jackson to kidnap her. He had gone as far to tell the doctors of the hospital that he was not comfortable with any information regarding Y/N’s wellbeing to be shared with them and had stationed Changbin outside the door to stop them entering the hospital room.

“Yes, noona?” Hyunjin popped his head around the door. He was holding a tray with some juk. Y/N wrinkled her nose. The rice porridge was the only thing she had been given to eat since she had come home. It was becoming quite boring.

“You do realise I am allowed to move around, right?” She reminded him, wanting to see something else other than the four walls of her childhood bedroom.

“You do realise you are recovering from major surgery?” Hyunjin raised his eyebrows as he set the tray down on her desk. He leaned against it, one of his legs crossed over the other.

“I’ve got about a week of recovery left. They discharged me for a reason, Hyunnie.”

“I just want to be sure you’re okay, noona. You’ve been through a lot and I’m not entirely sure you’ve fully processed it yet.” Y/N was silent. Yes, there had been nightmares were she was back in that room, tied to the bed while Jackson raped her. But there had also been the dreams that were good. Dreams were she had been spending time with her brother, and with her soulmates. But she knew that she would not be able to have a physical relationship with the boys for a while considering what had happened to her. They would just have to take it slow, which was why she was slightly grateful that Hyunjin wasn’t allowing them to see her. Less chance of a mental breakdown over a hug or a kiss.

It had taken almost a week for Hyunjin to be able to hold her hand and hug her. The first time he had done it she had screamed and cried until the doctor relaxed her with a sedative. But she still longed for her soulmates presence.

“Please, Hyunnie, let me see them.” She pleaded. “You can be there in the room as well as any of the boys you want to be there. I just need to see them.”

Hyunjin sighed and moved over to the bed, sitting down. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, noona. What if you have a panic attack over them trying to kiss you?”

“I have you here to calm me down, don’t I?” Y/N reminded him. “And besides, I’ll do my management techniques that my therapist taught me. He can’t hurt me anymore. I just need to remember that.”

Hyunjin leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Okay. Fine. You text them and tell them to come over in an hour or so and I’ll get Changbin hyung and Chan hyung to come over as well. And maybe Lee Know hyung.”

“Okay, Hyunnie. Thank you.” Y/N smiled at her brother and ruffled his hair. Hyunjin stood up and handed her the food.

“Eat up.” He set the tray on her lap. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes or so to see how you’re getting on.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Y/N looked down at the juk and sighed. “Why is it always this?” She whined before beginning to eat.

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

An hour later, Y/N was propped up against the headboard of her bed with many pillows surrounding her and one of Hyunjin’s hoodies on.

“Noonaaaa!” Changbin said excitedly as he entered the room followed by Chan and Lee Know.

“Hi, noona!” Lee Know waved as he sat on her desk chair. Chan stood behind him, leaning against the wall.

“Hi, Y/Nie.” He smiled. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes I am, thank you Chan oppa.” Y/N replied. “How’s being idols now?”

“It’s good.” Lee Know said. “Fun.”

“That’s good.” Y/N said. “I’ve listened to your guys stuff, it’s really good.”

“Thank you.” Changbin said. He was sat on Y/N’s windowsill seat where she used to sit and read when she was younger.

There was a comfortable silence for a while before Y/N heard several sets of footsteps on the stairs.

“They’re here!” She exclaimed excitedly. Hyunjin walked into her room, shutting the door behind him. She frowned at him and tilted her head.

“Are you completely sure you can handle this?” He asked.

“Yes, Hyunjin. I’m sure. And if I need you, you’re next door. I’ll text you or something.” She reassured him. “So, you four, out. Let me see my boys.”

“If anything happens, anything at all, just let us know. We are right next door.” Hyunjin said as the four of them left the room.

“I know, Hyunnie.” Y/N nodded. She took a deep breath to steady herself and calm herself down. There was a soft knock on the door. She cleared her throat. “Come in.”

“Baby girl!” Her Hobi was there with a huge smile on his face.

“Hobi!” He came into her room and gently made his way over to her. “Where are the rest of you?”

“We’re going to come in one at a time to let you adjust and everything. We want to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” Hoseok explained, kneeling down next to her bed. “How are you?”

Y/N reached out her hand which Hoseok took. She had missed feeling him. “I’m okay. Healing slowly but I’m okay.”

“That’s amazing, baby girl. I’m so proud of you for getting this far.” Hoseok said.

“I missed you.” Y/N felt tears prick her eyes.

“I missed you too, baby girl.” Hoseok’s eyes looked all over her face, softening even more. “Oh, please, don’t cry, baby girl. It’s okay.” Y/N sniffled and grabbed a tissue to wipe her eyes. Hoseok watched her for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Can I hug you?”

He’s not Jackson. Not Jackson. This is Hoseok. Jackson can’t hurt me anymore. She reminded herself.

“Please.” She said. Hoseok stood up and climbed onto her bed, pulling her into his arms.

“There we go.” He said as he maneuvered them gently into a comfortable position. Y/N burst into tears again having missed this feeling so much. “It’s okay, baby girl. I’ve got you. I’m here.” He played with her hair and stroked her back.

“I needed this.” She whispered, her voicy croaky from the tears.

“I know, baby girl. I know.” Hoseok’s voice was soft. “I needed this too.”

There was a knock at the door. Y/N looked up from her spot on Hoseok’s chest and saw that Seokjin was stood in the doorway.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His face filled with sympathy when he saw her crying. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re happy tears, Jin oppa.” Y/N sniffled. “I didn’t realise how much I had missed you until I saw you.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart. So much.” Seokjin took hold of her hand and rubbed the back of it. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” Y/N said. “I’m not a hundred percent where I was before yet, but I’m getting there.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Jin said. “Can I join the cuddle?” Y/N nodded and Hoseok lifted her up slightly and rolled onto his back so Jin could lie next to them. He then placed her on both of their chests so she was lying kind of in between them on her side with Hobi behind her and Jin in front of her. They were both holding hands on her hip.

“Hi,” Y/N whispered. She was quite close to Jin’s face.

“Hi sweetheart.” Jin said reaching up to push some hair out of her face. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You are, baby girl.” Hoseok agreed. Y/N blushed and hid her face in Jin’s shoulder, causing the pair of them to chuckle.

“You definitely are the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen, baby.” Came a voice from the door.

“Joonie oppa?” She lifted her head up and saw Namjoon stood with a huge smile on his face, showing his dimples.

“Hello, beautiful baby. How have you been?” Namjoon stood awkwardly by the edge of the bed not really sure what to do.

“I’ve been better, if I’m being totally honest. But I’m getting there.” Y/N replied.

“That’s good, baby. We will all help you get to where you need to be.” Joon said.

“Join the cuddle!” Hoseok said happily.

“Ok, hyungs move up and go on your sides.” Namjoon instructed. “And then I’m gonna lie in the middle with our pretty little baby in my arms because I’ve missed her so much.”

“I missed you too.” Y/N smiled, moving to let Namjoon lie down. Once he was comfortable she carefully laid down on top of him. She had gotten her stitches out and the wound had healed but it still hurt a little bit if she moved too quickly, and she still had the fear she would somehow rip it open.

“Cuddles without me?” Jimin’s voice rang across the room. Y/N could picture the pout on his face. She looked over at him. Yup, there it was.

“You’re cute, Jiminie.” Y/N cooed, making him smile at her.

“Not as cute as you, though.”

Y/N opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the others agreeing with him and not allowing her to say otherwise.

“Are you okay? I was so scared.” Jimin asked, crawling onto the bed and lying next to her on top of Hoseok, who let out a small grunt when Jimin flopped onto him.

“I’m okay. Getting better, Min. I’m not completely there yet, but I will be.” Y/N promised, making Jimin nod in understanding. He reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I’m glad you’re back in my arms, princess.” He said softly.

“I’m glad too, Min.” Y/N said, staring into his eyes.

“Baby bear!” Taehyung exclaimed, bounding into the room.

“TaeTae!” Y/N smiled, sitting up, her legs on either side of Namjoon’s stomach. She opened her arms and made grabby hands at him. Tae climbed on Jin and hugged Y/N tight. She heard him inhale deeply on the top of her head.

“You’re okay. That’s so good. I’m proud.” Taehyung said, his deep voice rumbling through Y/N’s body.

“Yeah, I’m getting there. Still a bit jumpy.” Y/N explained, making Tae hum in understanding.

“I get that, darling. I understand.” Tae said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He froze. “I’m sorry if that was too far.”

“It’s fine, Tae. Honestly. It’s okay. I’m okay.” Y/N reassured him. He pulled away and looked her in the eye to make sure she was comfortable.

“Okay, baby bear. Okay.” Taehyung settled down on top of Jin, who groaned as he shifted his weight along Jin’s stomach.

“Tae, I love you, but ow.” Jin complained.

“Love you too, hyung.” Tae leaned up and kissed Jin’s lips. “Yoongi hyung said to let you know that he thought it would be best if he and Jungkook were alone with Y/N.”

“Why?” Y/N was confused. She tilted her head to side and glanced at the boys in front of her.

“It’s easier to let him explain, baby.” Namjoon said, sitting up. Y/N slid into his lap.

“Is it bad?” Y/N chewed on her lip.

“It’s okay, baby girl. They’re both okay. They just both really, really missed you.” Hoseok replied, reassuring her.

Taehyung and Jimin clambered off the bed after sandwiching her between kisses to her cheeks. Jin followed with a kiss to the top of her head, with Hobi close on his heels, leaving a kiss to Y/N’s nose.

“It will be okay, baby. I promise. Some things happened while you were gone, which they want to talk to you about. But I promise you, it’s okay.” Namjoon said. Y/N nodded and got off Namjoon’s lap.

He kissed her forehead after he got off the bed. “I’ll see you later?”

“Of course, baby.” He said. “We’ll all go home and watch a movie or something.”

“Okay.” Y/N nodded, watching Namjoon’s retreating figure make his way out of the room and into the hallway.

“Jagiya? Can I come in?” At the sound of his voice, Y/N eyes filled with tears. She had missed all of the boys, but Yoongi was her first soulmate. They had a special connection that none of the others had.

“Yoonie.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. She got up from the bed and ran into his arms.

“Jagi. Oh, my God. Y/N.” Yoongi murmured into her hair, walking them into the room. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” Y/N confirmed. “Still a bit jumpy at certain things and have slight PTSD, but I’m okay.”

“That’s okay, jagiya. Fucking hell I missed you.” He pulled away and studied her face. “You’ve gotten even more beautiful.” He whispered, a hand coming up to cup her cheek. “So pretty.”

“I missed you, Yoon.” Y/N said, rubbing his shoulder.

“I missed you more.” He said. Y/N looked up at him, taking in his cat-like eyes that pierced into her soul every time they looked at each other. His eyes dipped down to her lips. He paused and cleared his throat. “Can I...?”

Y/N hesitated. Jackson had never actually kissed her the entire time she was there, so she should be fine. And she wanted him to. That meant something, surely. Her body was telling her to, so she would be fine.

“Yes.” She breathed. Yoongi leaned down and connected their lips together.

Y/N waited with baited breath, unsure of what was about to happen.

And then she felt it.

The fireworks.

Sparking and bursting inside her stomach. She smiled into the kiss, her hands coming up to curl into the hairs at the base of Yoongi’s neck.

They both pulled away breathless. Yoongi was smiling lovingly at her, trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck.” He murmured, a hand stroking her cheek. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “There’s something you need to know.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N’s heart filled with dread. “What happened?” Yoongi was silent, looking down at his fingers. “Yoongi. Tell me.” She demanded.

“The night you were taken something happened between me and Jungkook.” He began. Y/N’s heart stopped. Had they broken up? Had Jungkook left them?

“Where is he?” She asked, needing to see him. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s not good, jagiya.” Yoongi had tears in his eyes. “He-” His breath hitched in his throat and he started to cry. “It’s all my fault.”

“What’s your fault? What happened?” Y/N asked, wrapping her arms around him. “Yoongi? Where is he? You’re scaring me.” Yoongi buried his head in her shoulder and kept saying he was sorry. “Yoongi, love, please tell me what happened.”

Yoongi took a deep breath to calm himself. “The night you were taken, Jungkook and I got into an argument. I told him that Jackson taking you was his fault and that caused him to hurt himself.”

“Fuck.” Y/N was shocked. She never thought Yoongi would be like that. “Why would you say that to him?”

“I was upset and angry and scared and I wasn’t in my right mind.” Yoongi explained. “I thought you were going to die. You said you would kill yourself if he ever took you again and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to live without you.”

“Yoongi...” Y/N was still slightly angry at him for exploding at Jungkook like that, but she could understand where he was coming from. “I’m okay. I’m here. Just please, don’t ever do that again. Stuff like that it’s... damaging.”

“I know. There’s only two things I regret in my life. Hurting him like that and allowing Jackson to get close to you.” Yoongi said.

“I want to see him.” She said. Yoongi nodded and left the room for a second, returning with a scared looking Jungkook.

“Koo.” Y/N breathed a sigh of relief and ran into his arms. He let out a breath of surprise before hugging her back.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He kept repeating. Y/N felt her heart break. While she had gone through something horrible, it was clear Jungkook had too. And she knew that it would take some time for both of them to get through it, but at least they had each other.

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

Harringrove April Day 16- Nostalgia

On just about every flat surface in their mansion, Steve’s mother had put out some fancy Tiffany light fixture.

Steve’s room was the only place in the whole house he got to have any day in the interior design, and his lamp, well it didn’t quite have a stained glass shade, or ornate detailing to fancy up the mansion, his happens to be an old nursery lamp from when he was six and still had a themed bedroom.

At the peak of his too cool for school teenager bullshit, he’d attempted to throw it out, sent it away to the curb with a bag of stuffed animals he claimed he didn’t need anymore, but the very same night he started having nightmares again, so he scrambled to get it back before the raccoons found it first.

That dusty old lamp had saved him from countless nights spent awake and terrified, and he wasn’t one to say he was ashamed of that.

Except, now Billy Hargrove, the pinnacle of badass, is in his room, and there it is, still plugged in on the nightstand.

Of all things too, it couldn’t have just been a generic race car lamp or something he could play off as not really being for kids, it had to be stupid Bambi.

There’s a story behind it, that when he was a toddler, his first venture out of Indiana was to go see his gramma over in Maryland, and, after one look at his big brown eyes and his fluffy brown hair, she immediately nicknamed him Bambi.

After that the name just sort of stuck with him, his parents using it when they wanted on his good side, to make up for forgetting his birthday, or as an apology for leaving him alone so long the babysitter left, so of course his mom thought it would be adorable if his bedroom was themed around it.

Somewhere in a dusty corner of the attic, he still had the curtains and the quilt and the wall hangings, and under his bed was a pillow embroidered with his name and a picture of the clumsy cartoon deer made by his gramma. And of course, there was the brightly shining lamp.

He would never admit that he kept them there for when he was at his most frightened, clutching the pillow to his chest during a nightmare, or wrapping the soft material of the tiny old quilt around his shoulders when he felt an imaginary pair of eyes watching him.

Because Steve had seen some shit, he felt that after witnessing a ten-foot tall faceless monster come through the ceiling and try to kill him, and having a herd of baby versions of that same monster charge at him with nothing but a baseball bat to protect himself and a group of defenseless children, he had earned the right to use a damn nursery lamp in his bedroom.

But, that ass-backwards swell of pride at still using his childhood comfort items at 19 years old is definitely crushed by the fact that, after being in his room for a grand total of five minutes, that’s immediately what Billy drifts to.

A drunken apology at a New Year’s party might have made up for the concussion and proved he was probably not going to beat his face in again, but it didn’t change the fact that he was in Steve’s bedroom with the edge of the printed lampshade pinched between his fingers, and a contemplative look on his face.

It was a little while after their truce was reached, that Billy just started showing up at the Harringtons’ door unannounced. Sometimes it was to borrow Steve’s first aid kit. Sometimes he’d steal some of his weed. Once he’d come over just to watch something on Steve’s TV. Whatever his reason, Steve had let him in every time.

In this particular instance, it had been Steve who had called Billy, because he had a math project and an essay due first thing tomorrow morning, and Nancy was too busy to help him.

At first he’d considered just not getting the work done, but he decided Billy would do. He was smart enough that the co-ed teacher in the math class they shared had begged him to switch to the advanced classes, so Steve figured his help wouldn’t be so bad.

But his desk where all of his school stuff is is upstairs in his bedroom, where he’s left out the dumb baby lamp, and of course that would be exactly what Billy goes straight for. Steve feels himself start to panic a little, unsure if he could trust Billy’s reaction, and convincing himself that Billy might beat his ass for being a fragile little fairy or something.

It never comes, Billy just sits down all casual on the bed next to Steve, pulling one of his legs up so he could cross it over his knee, and nods over at the lamp again. “Wish I still had something from when I was little.”

The weight of the entire universe is lifted from Steve’s chest, knowing that Billy isn’t going to tear his head off. He lets out a sharp breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “Yeah?”

Billy nods and looks down, fidgeting with the pendant he always wore around his neck. “My dad threw everything out. All I have is one little picture of my mom.”

Steve knew he lived with his step-mom, but had never even thought about what happened to Billy’s real mother. He realizes the pendant was probably a locket, the very one that holds the aforementioned picture, and asks “Can I see it?”

It looks like Billy has to think about it, as he keeps twisting the locket between his fingers, before he nods and opens it. Steve leans towards him, putting his hand up under it and holding it in his palm, straining to see the tiny, aged picture.

Even though he’s never seen this woman, it makes Steve incredibly sad, seeing her little face all worn out in that locket around her son's neck. He wonders if she was dead, or if maybe she’d lost custody for some reason, or if maybe she had just left, but whatever happened, when his eyes flicker back up to Billy’s face, the tears shining in his eyes and the way he avoids his gaze, he knows better than to ask.

Steve lets the locket fall and watches Billy snap it shut quickly, and he realizes he has no idea what the right thing to say is.

What he wants to say is that he’s sorry, for him losing his mother and having nothing but one yellowed and tear stained picture to remember her by, but that seems too much like prying, somehow not really appropriate.

Instead, he remembers what Billy said about his dad throwing his stuff out and says, “Your dad must be a real asshole, huh?”

Billy scoffs and blinks away the last of the tears in his eyes. “You’ve got no idea, Harrington.” There’s a long awkward pause, until Billy asks, “You know how I’m always coming over here with like, all kinds of shit wrong with me?”

Steve thinks he knows where this was going. “Sure.”

Chewing on the corner of his nail, Billy takes a moment to get his thoughts together, his eyes flitting nervously across the room, focusing on pretty much anything but Steve, mostly the picture frame behind him. “I lied. It’s not, like, fights or whatever I say. At least not with other kids.”

Steve himself was no stranger to conversations like these, he himself had to confess something of a similar calibre to Nancy, when they were still dating, because his father had come home from a business trip pissed off about something, and slapped him across the face just a little too hard. The sturdy silver ring that he wore on his middle finger had split the skin on Steve’s cheek, and he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to cover his tracks.

Admitting to it out loud was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, so he decides he won’t make Billy say it. Maybe they weren’t on the best of terms, only here to do homework or whatever, but if he was going to open up about this, he definitely wasn’t going to make him experience that same humiliation he had.

“Is it your dad? That does that to you?” Nancy hadn’t been kind enough to spare him, forcing him to tell her once that the scar he so proudly sported wasn’t actually from a fist fight with Tommy like he said, and he wouldn’t do the same to Billy.

In lieu of a response though, Billy sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his hands starting to shake ever so subtly, and Steve knows he’s got to keep pressing. “Do you need help? I can call the chief-“

“No.” Billy shakes his head and makes eye contact with Steve for the first time since he started talking. “Cops only make it worse.”

Steve could understand that, had tried once when he was about eight or so, with the assistance of one of the housekeepers, to call the police when his father twisted his arm so far behind his back his shoulder popped out of place, but they wouldn’t dare arrest a public figure like his father, especially not for a little corporal punishment. The first thing they’d asked was what Steve had done wrong, not why his father had felt it fitting to beat on his eight year old for a tiny mistake. He never asked for help again.

“Well is there anything I can do?” Despite their differences and the fact that he only called him here to cheat on his homework, he truly did want to help Billy. Something about repeatedly surviving horrific monster attacks made him a lot more protective of those around him, and now that they were over their dumb pissing contest, Billy was included in that too.

“Think you’ve done enough letting me into your mansion, unless that’s not good enough for your hero complex.” It was a pathetic jab, there was no bite behind his broken tone, and Steve would almost rather have him at his worst than see him so vulnerable and sad.

Steve tries to reason with him softly, “You know it’s not like that, Billy.”

“Do I?” Walls had been put up as Billy made his last ditch efforts to protect himself from being weak in front of Steve. “Cause where I’m sitting, it seems like you get off on charity cases like mine. You tryin to swoop in and save me, King Steve? Feed your ego so you can feel like the savior you were always meant to be?”

He was baiting him, trying to pick a fight so he’d push him away, Steve had seen it all before in himself and wouldn’t fall for it. “Listen. I just want to help you.”

Everything about Billy suddenly seemed to make a whole lot more sense. That whole part animal, tough guy thing was just an act, and Steve knew because he had done essentially the same thing.

Before Nancy Wheeler had taught him to be better, he and Billy really weren’t so different. He’d let high school bullshit bother him, beat up the nerds and fucked all the cheerleaders and mocked anyone lower than him on the social ladder like he was supposed to, but it always made him feel off.

In the end, it had been so easy to get him to the other side, to show him what to do instead, he supposed all he needed was a little push to help him actualize what he already believed.

And then it hits him, in that moment, that this was Billy’s push in the right direction. That he was Billy’s Nancy.

“I don’t expect you to tell me everything and I’m not doing this for me, just,” It became extremely important to him to not set Billy off, to say just the right thing to keep him on the right track. “my door is always open, Billy.”

At first, it seemed to have worked, Billy sat staring at the floor, his lip quivering as he mulled over Steve’s words, but, when he stood abruptly and snatched his leather jacket from where it was draped over the back of Steve’s desk chair, Steve knows he messed up.

“Where are you going?” He stands up fast enough to give himself a head rush while Billy shrugs his jacket back on and yanks the door open.

“Need a smoke.” That’s all he gets before the door slammed in his face, and he hears Billy's heavy boots stomping down the stairs and the sound of him slamming his front door.

He waits with bated breath and tears pricking the corners of his eyes for the sound of Billy’s car starting and tearing out of his driveway, but it never comes.

Still, he feels immensely guilty and selfish and stupid as all hell for not just biting his tongue. He should’ve just fought back, argued with him like was expecting him to instead of trying to be comforting like he was his fucking therapist or something.

Because this was Billy fucking Hargrove, stereotypical meat head bully. Why he even felt the need to help him, other than their similar upbringings and coping mechanisms, or the fact that Billy had obviously been reaching out, hoping for someone to care, was beyond him. Or maybe it really wasn’t, he knew exactly why, he just felt weak and stupid for trying, and especially so for failing.

Apparently he’d been so caught up in his little pity party that he missed the sound of the door opening back up, and didn’t notice Billy had come back until his bedroom door was open.

Steve was so relieved that Billy came back, that he hadn’t pushed him too far or fucked everything up, even if he reeked of too strong cigarettes, and growled at him when he came in, “Don’t we got fucking work to do, Harrington?”

They don’t end up finishing the essay. Steve was hopeless with numbers, and they were too busy goofing off, so the math project didn't get done very quickly. It was okay though, Billy wasn’t much help at all when it came to English anyways.

Steve walks him outside when he has to go, beating a curfew of midnight. He stops on the porch, immediately crossing his arms against the frigid cold of the night air. Billy stops too at his car, his fingers through the handle, and turns around, calling across the yard. “Hey Harrington?”

He hardly waits for Steve’s response, a quick “Yeah?” to tell him, “Thank you.”

There isn’t time for Steve to respond before Billy’s yanking open the door of his Camaro and backing out of the driveway, but he knows he’d still made astronomical progress tonight.

It makes him feel incredibly dumb, laying in his bed that night, illuminated by the warm light of that very same Bambi lamp and trying to put his thoughts of Billy to rest like he was some cheesy teenage girl, but he’s just happy to have found a friend, to have made a difference in somebody’s life, and he knows that on the other side of town, laying in own bed with his locket left open on the pillow beside him, Billy feels the same way.

#harringrove #harringroveapril #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #ej writer #story by ej!#love how I had something completely different planned but ran out of time and had to dig in my drafts for this fic #and it still took me forever to edit it

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demisexualemmaswan · 4 years

Text

to make the season bright

Summary: Killian's been in love with his roommate, Emma, for as long as he's known her. But when she admits to him that she's lost a sentimental Christmas present, how can he prove to her that she means more to him than what would've been underneath the tree that year?

[Read on Ao3] A/N: Wow, I can't believe that this is my 6th year running for doing Captain Swan Secret Santa! And I still get someone new every year! This is a gift for @resident-of-storybrooke who has been absolutely so lovely to chat with over the last month! I hope you like your gift! Thanks to @cssecretsanta2020 for organizing this year’s event!

Shoutout to @kmomof4, @teamhook, @lonelyspectator12, @hollyethecurious and the entire CSMM discord who kept me motivated while I was writing!

Killian Jones was a neat man.

His days from the Navy—and Liam’s strict rules from his childhood—instilled that habit in him. And while he was well aware that not everyone would feel the same as he did, he was not so tested until he started living with Emma Swan.

He’d met Emma at a party. Her boyfriend at the time had gotten very aggressive after copious amounts of eggnog and tried to swing and Killian, who’d promptly flipped Walsh and broke Ruby’s coffee table. Ruby was easily persuaded to forgive once Killian had bought her a new coffee table.

At first, he was sure that Emma hated him for what had happened until a few weeks later, when she’d demanded, eyes aglow with fire and determination, that she teach him how to flip people over. She’d cited it was necessary for her job, and he hadn’t quite known what that meant until he saw her flip a skip onto his back when he tried to punch her.

Their self-defense lessons after his shift then turned into quick lunches, which turned into movies nights with just them in addition to their friend group’s movie nights. It was during a group movie night that it was revealed that despite breaking up with Walsh at the Christmas party, he was still living in the apartment because Emma couldn’t afford the rent by herself. While Emma was surprisingly prudent in her savings given her general cavalier to almost everything else in her life including what she ate and the state of her room, she was only paid as long as she could work. Any long-term injury would send her careening backwards in her savings, and letting Walsh live in the apartment was a way to offset the financial risk.

Killian, a life-long believer in good form, simply wouldn’t stand for it. Since the apartment was in Emma’s name only, Walsh had no claim to it. And surprisingly to all (or unsurprisingly) that as soon as Regina mentioned her sister was single, Walsh had no problem moving out of Emma’s apartment, allowing Killian to move in.

So here he was, 9 months later, trudging up to the apartment that he and Emma shared.

His cheeks flushed even though no one was around.

The first time he’d mentioned that he was moving in with Emma, his brother had squawked and protested that he should’ve known Killian was seeing someone. And every time Killian spoke to Liam, Liam always asked if he and Emma started dating yet. Which…they were not a couple, they were just friends. Though Killian would’ve absolutely dated Emma in a heartbeat, if given the opportunity. She was beautiful, strong, and incredibly intelligent in a way that surprised people who were just meeting her. He absolutely adored her and cherished every moment he spent with her. But with the strength of their bond also came with the vulnerabilities Emma allowed him to see. She had been betrayed, hurt, and let very few people know what was truly going on in her mind. He was honored that after such a short time, she had let him into the circle that only included a handful of people. So he didn’t push her for anything romantic, for fear that if his intentions were misperceived that she would draw her walls up again. Not that he blamed her. She’d been disappointed by so many people in her life, and it would kill him if he ever joined those numbers.

Besides, what sort of a man would force his intentions by someone with whom he cohabitated a space with? Well, Walsh would, he could hear Emma’s derisive remark in her head. Still, he began marching up the steps in their apartment complex, hoping that Emma could hear. Tonight was the night that they were exchanging gifts before he went off to his brother’s house and she went off to her brother’s house. It was a tradition that Emma valued most highly, having missed her fair share of Christmases in her youth. Emma had been passed around the foster system almost her whole life until she’d met Ruth Nolan at age 16. Well, correction: she’d met Ruth’s son David (her now brother), who had brought her home to his mother on her first day of school, and Ruth had done everything humanly possible to keep Emma with them.

Killian, having been taken in by his older brother when his brother had emancipated from their father, could sympathize with wanting spend time with family. Though he was sure that, knowing Emma, she’d been caught up in something and waited until the last possible moment to wrap his gift despite her imminent departure. He knew this because he’d walked in on her wrapping his gift on his birthday. She’d scowled when he laughed, and her cheeks had turned red with embarrassment. But it had been the perfect gift and she still had surprised him with a wonderful chocolate cake.

His heart warmed affectionately upon how she’d gone out of her way to get it from his favorite bakery, one that marked the halfway point between where he lived and his brother’s. He recalled the shy smile that tugged at the edge of her lips when she told him that she hoped he liked his cake. It was the memory of his birthday that had inspired him to go out of his way to get a particularly excellent birthday for her in October, and now an excellent Christmas present. For her birthday, he’d gotten her a pair of high heeled boots that the saleswoman assured him were comfortable, and now were Emma’s go-to piece of footwear for chasing skips.

For Christmas, he’d gotten her baby blanket repaired. She’d been left at a hospital with nothing but a knitted blanket with her name on it. It was all she had given toward any clue toward her parents. But a drunk Will had accidentally unraveled it at Halloween, and although she’d tried to hide it from their friends, Emma was absolutely distraught about the destruction of her blanket.

He was picturing the look on her face, hoping her eyes would light up with joy and he could watch her fingers reverently trace the knitwork when he arrived at the front door and was overcome with the notion that something was very wrong. The door was slightly ajar, which was unusual for their apartment. Immediately shifting into high alert, he opened the door gently. The apartment was beyond a disaster.

Things were thrown about everywhere, the window was thrust right open and one of the flowerpots was shattered on the ground. Killian began to catalog all of the damage, wondering whether or not there had been a robbery, when he heard the tiniest of sniffles. His blood ran cold, his shoulders became stiff and tight and his heart began to pick up in his chest. “Emma?” he called, trying to keep his worry at bay. As he moved through the apartment, there was a path of destruction no matter where he went. His mind kept picturing horrible scenario after horrible scenario, particularly as Emma’s sobs became louder and louder as he approached her bedroom.

“Emma?” he tried again, not hearing a response. Unable to stand it any longer, he thrust the door open. Her room had seemingly taken the worst hit; even though it was normally in a state of disarray, the destruction in her room could only be described as catastrophic. And there was Emma, in the middle of it, sobbing like the world was ending. He immediately scooped her up and placed her on the bed, frantically assessing her for injury. His Emma was a tough lass, and so for her to be crying like this meant the absolute worst of the worst.

When she seemed to realize it was him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against him. He wrapped himself around her protectively, stroking the back of her hair. “You’re all right, love,” he whispered softly. “You’re safe. I’m here…it’s all right, Emma.”

“’s not!” Emma choked out, curling up against him, her entire body heaving and shaking with the force of her cries. “It’s not all right!”

“What happened?” he asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. Though he was not entirely unsure that she was unharmed, there still was the state of the apartment to contend with. He was desperate to clean it, but if there needed to be a police investigation, he couldn’t touch the damn thing.

Her shaking damn near broke his heart and he held her closer, shushing her gently. “It’s okay, love, it’s okay,” he promised her again.

“It’s not!” she hiccupped. “I lost it! I can’t find it!”

His heart picked up again, wondering if she’d gone looking for her baby blanket for comfort and was unable to find it. Suddenly, he felt like the world’s biggest asshole, taking her blanket without permission. It was something she treasured and was comforted by and he had no right to take it without her permission.

He looked down at her, preparing to make a million and one apologies to her and to assure her that her baby blanket was safe and she could have it right then and there, when she added miserably, “I lost your Christmas present!”

“What?” he asked, dumbfounded. He nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all but seeing how devastated Emma was kept his tongue in check. He knew that she wouldn’t have appreciated his chuckling.

She pulled away her head hung low as she continued to cry. “You must hate me!” she declared, still not looking at him. “I know it’s Christmas and I’m so sorry…I should’ve taken better care of it…”

It was only then that he realized that she’d mistaken his shock for anger, and he gently reached for her hand. “Emma, love,” he tried to soothe softly, running his thumb across her knuckles. “It’s okay. I’m not angry…”

“You will be when you find out what it is,” she muttered, her head still hung low.

“Emma, trust me, whatever my gift was supposed to be, it cannot be worse than the scenario I’d concocted in my head when I discovered the door ajar and the apartment destroyed,” he replied, reaching for her again. Maybe there was a part of him that still needed to reassure himself that she was safe. She finally looked up at him, her head cocked to the side curiously. “I…when I saw everything in disarray and heard your cries, I…I thought we’d been robbed and you’d been hurt,” he admitted shyly, taking his gaze away from hers now.

Her emerald eyes were wide with shock and her mouth hung open a little bit, still needing to reconcile every so soften that people cared about her. Emma’s jaw slid open as she stared at him, her tears stopping almost immediately at the revelation. “You were worried about me?” she squeaked.

“Aye, of course I was,” Killian breathed, holding her close to him. “Everything had gone to pieces and the apartment was not how I left it this morning.”

Emma sighed, scrubbing at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I wanted to clean it up before you got home but then I couldn’t find your present and—" Her breathing picked up again and tears began pooling in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Killian murmured, cupping her cheek in his hand. His thumb gently dragged across her cheek.

“And now I’m gonna leave you with all of this cuz I’m supposed to go to David’s!” she babbled. Her body seemed to tremble viciously in his hold. It was clear she’d been on edge and frantic for a while now, only just coming down. Her hand trembled visibly in his hand, and he’d never seen Emma so emotional or terrified. She’d come home battered and bruised, he’d stayed with her overnight in the hospital, but he’d never seen her like this.

His heart seemed to stop. He knew that she held great stock in her trusty bug, but he was unable and unwilling to place her life at risk on it. She was in no position to drive.

“Love, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go to be driving in the condition you’re in,” Killian said softly. “You know David won’t hold it against you if you delay your trip another day. You’re in no state to be driving right now. It’s dark, and you need to be at your best when you get on the road.”

Emma’s lips came together in a thin tight line. “Trust me,” she said sadly. “You’re not gonna want to spend the rest of the night with me and I should go.”

Closing her eyes, she hung her head. “Liam called a few weeks ago, and said he found some of your mother’s hand sewn ornaments in the attic...he wanted to know if...if you wanted them for your birthday. I told him no, that they’d make a lovely Christmas present.” Her voice got smaller and smaller as she spoke, and a pit of dread formed in Killian’s stomach.

“I got the box and I don’t know where I put it and I’ve looked everywhere...so I’ll just...I’ll clean up and then I’ll go. You can return my Christmas present if you want to,” she finished quietly, not even daring to look at him. “And...and if you want to move out or if you want me to move out, I understand. I’ll need a few days to find a place, but...but I promise I can clear out.”

Killian took in a shaky breath. The loss hit him harder than he was willing to admit. His mother died when he was quite young, but he remembered her sitting in her rocking chair and sewing any ornament Killian or Liam asked of her. “Did...did Liam send me all of them?” he asked, unable to help the question. There was so much about Emma’s speech that he needed to address and respond to, but he couldn’t cling to the desperate hope that some of the ornaments survived.

“No,” Emma rasped, and she watched him with some trepidation. “I had to beg him to take some of them.”

Killian sighed with some relief, knowing that all wasn’t lost forever. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths. She’d made the decision to save some for Liam. She’d tried to do this nice thing for him. She was always trying to do nice things for him and she deserved the benefit of the doubt.

And if he was honest, she wasn’t particularly the best searcher. Most things she looked at with a half-hearted glance before declaring she couldn’t find them.

So he wasn’t going to let himself believe that his present was gone, until he’d helped her search every last inch of the apartment.

“Let’s clean everything up,” Killian said kindly. “And we won’t discuss anyone moving out until we know for sure it’s lost to the ages and not in a hidden, obscure spot because you were sure you’d remember it later.” He was going to tease her about how many times she’d misplaced her keys, but she’d all but tackled him to the ground before he could take another breath.

He squeezed her tightly as she tucked herself into him. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“Aye, love,” he promised. “I won’t send you away.” Her whole body seemed to melt at the reassurance. He knew the need for her to hear those words stemmed from her days as a foster child, and he was more than happy to give them.

Seeing how she had clearly and thoroughly mentally lashed herself made it very hard to be angry with her. And if it had turned out that they were gone, he would mourn them like he mourned his mother. He hadn’t known her ornaments had survived after his father seemingly removed every sign of his mother from the house.

And to only know that they existed only when they seemed gone was upsetting, he wouldn’t lie.

But it certainly wasn’t a friendship ending event in his eyes. He would need some space to mourn, but he wouldn’t banish her from her home.

And she needed some tender care at the moment too. It was more than clear that she had done everything in her power to try and relocate them.

He scooped her up in his arms and gently carried her to the couch, which had mercifully been spared. “What—?” she started, pushing herself back up.

His heart seemingly broke again, looking back at her. The circles under her eyes seemed so dark. Her eyes were red and red-rimmed. What kind of awful, imaginary scenarios had she conjured for herself while he’d been thinking the worst?

They were so similar, both scarred by their pasts in different ways.

“I wasn’t joking about you recuperating, Emma,” he said softly. “So I’m gonna make you some cocoa. And when your nerves have settled, you can join me in the cleaning of the apartment.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Emma complained, throwing herself dramatically against the couch. “I lost priceless family heirlooms and destroyed the entire apartment…”

“I think you’ve already beat yourself up enough for it, love,” Killian murmured, trying to imbue every ounce of sincerity into his words. He knelt beside her, hoping he was being reassuring. “And while I won’t lie to you: I’ll be devastated if it well and truly is lost, you shouldn’t feel like you have to continue to beat yourself up.”

Emma frowned as she looked at him. She opened her mouth to ask a question, but then closed it. She seemed to slump into the couch, all the fight drained out of her body.

He went into the kitchen to give her some space. In addition to her cocoa, he decided to get some Christmas cookies from his hidden cookie stash. Killian tried not to listen as she declared to her brother and she was the worst person alive and she had no idea how Killian was going to forgive her or how she could even think about enjoying Christmas if she lost his gift.

Emma treasured sentimental things. He knew this about her. But he hoped that he would not forsake her favorite holiday for his sake.

He’d survive without the ornaments. Truly.

But he hoped to god that they found them. As each moment passed, he was becoming more painfully aware that his friendship with Emma may not survive this event. But not from his side.

She would probably keep herself at a distance and put her walls up out of sheer guilt.

He couldn’t stand to be behind those walls again.

He couldn’t stand her not knowing just how important she was to him.

Knowing how sentimental she was, he figured he had one last move in trying to prove her importance in his life. Breathing deeply, he rushed to his room. His bedroom was still immaculate, and so he was able to quickly duck under his bed.

The gift was still neatly wrapped, the bow skillfully placed on top. He smiled softly at the box before heading back out into the living room.

She’d wrapped a blanket around herself and she was curled up on her side.

She’d never looked more beautiful to him.

Killian gently walked toward her, and she tilted her head up at him questioningly. She blinked owlishly at him for a moment, blurting out, “That’s not my hot cocoa.”

He couldn’t help but burst out laughing in spite of himself. “No, it’s not,” he chuckled, putting the box on the table in front of her.

“But why?” Emma protested, her shoulders coming up around her ears. A guarded and caged look entered her eyes.

“Because I need you to know just how important you are to me, Emma. More important than any ornament ever could be.”

“But they were your mother’s,” Emma protested softly. Her voice caught as she added, “I’d kill to have something of my mom’s. All I have is a torn baby blanket.”

“Open your present, love,” Killian insisted softly.

Delicately, she undid his careful wrapping and made sure to save the bow. “It’s a box,” she said, looking up at him, not making a move to open it any further.

“Your gift is inside the box,” he teased.

Her hands stayed firmly folded in her lap. “Killian, I can’t accept this. Especially after what I did. I ruined your Christmas.”

“Love, don’t you know that you’re all I need for Christmas?” The words well and truly flew out of Killian’s mouth before he could stop them. Her head jerked up abruptly and her eyes were wide with shock. He was almost positive that his jaw was hanging open too. But he continued, “Don’t you know, Emma? It’s you. You here and happy is all I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted.” Killian scratched nervously behind his ear. “Perhaps some day as more than friends. But even if you never felt that way about me, it would still be all I’ve ever wanted.”

He could see the desperate flicker of hope enter her eyes, and he could practically see the thoughts chasing themselves across her face. He could say all those kind things to her, even when she had done what she considered to be an irredeemable act.

Because he truly cared for her.

And so he said the one thing he knew he could to confirm Emma’s hope.

“I love you, Emma.”

Before he could blink, his arms were full of her yet again and her mouth cautiously slid against his. He tightened his arm around her before returning her kiss, all but melting with relief that she not only believed in the strength of his feelings but seemed to return them as well.

When they broke apart, she rested his forehead against his. Very quietly, she asked against his lips, “You love me even though I didn’t get you a Christmas present?”

“I’d say you just did, love,” he hummed, chasing her lips again. She pulled away, levelling him with a look that told him that she genuinely did need the reassurance even though the corners of her mouth were twitching as if to fight back a smile. “Aye, love,” he promised. “They’re just ornaments.”

“I’ll make you new ones,” she promised, resting her hand on his chest. “They’ll be ugly and misshapen, but I’ll—” He silenced her again with a soft and gentle kiss, and Killian let out a sigh of relief when Emma seemed to melt against him. When they broke apart again, Emma’s head rest against his shoulder and he swayed with her gently in the kitchen.

“How long have you been hiding my present from me?” she asked, still staring at the box on the coffee table. “And where? I go into your room like all the time, I can’t believe I didn’t find it!”

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Why, I put it in the one place I know you don’t look: under the bed.”

Emma gasped and jerked her head up so quickly that he would’ve had a broken nose if not for his quick reflexes. “I know where the box with the ornaments is!” she cried joyously, tearing herself from his arms. He followed her back to her room, where she was more than halfway under her bed, pushing things out. “I hid it behind a ton of other stuff in case you ever went looking under my bed!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled.

“Why would I go looking underneath your bed, love?” Killian asked, unable to hold back his laughter this time.

“Because hiding anything from you is a full-time job,” Emma retorted happily, wiggling out from under the bed. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes covered in dust, but her eyes gleamed with unadulterated exuberance as she held a small white box on her hand. Liam’s handwriting on the shipping label only confirmed that these were indeed the box of ornaments.

She all but sprung up and thrust the box into his hand. “Open it!” she demanded excitedly. The grin on her face was infectious, and she was every bit of the “kid on Christmas morning” picture, even though she was a fully grown adult.

Looking at Liam’s handwriting and knowing that he was only some clear tape away from being connected with a piece of his mother made his eyes water. Emma’s hand was quick to brush away any tears before they fell, and he dipped his cheek to kiss her palm. “Thank you,” he rasped, his voice too choked with emotion to be any louder. “Really, Emma. This is…”

“Don’t you know that I love you too?” she asked as if it was all the explanation he could’ve ever needed.

“Aye, I do,” he replied, and gingerly opened the box. There were some familiar ornaments that he’d seen in pictures: a kite from her grandmother that dated back to 1895, a pig, a basket, and angel, each one with a hand-embroidered date on it. But the one that caught was one he was not familiar with. The date on the back said 1990, which would’ve been his first Christmas. Gingerly flipping it over, a beautiful swan stared up back at him and he found his eyes watering again.

“Did you know?” was all he could spit out.

“No,” she replied, her voice equally choked up. She gingerly rested her head against his shoulder as she looked into the box of ornaments with him. “But it seems your mom did.”

“Aye…” he chuckled wetly. “So she did.”

“Can we put them on the tree?” Emma asked hopefully, looking up at him. Unable to help himself, he leaned down to kiss her again, pouring his love and thanks into the gentle kiss.

“We should,” he agreed against her lips. “And we will. But only after you open your present.”

Emma rolled her eyes playfully and all but dragged him back to the living room with her. He watched as she opened the box and then immediately shut it again. “Is that…?” she asked.

“Aye, love,” he promised. “It is.” With the most care and reverence he’d ever seen her take with anything, she gently took her repaired baby blanket out of the box. Her fingers gently trailed over the stitching, the letters of her name, all of it, as if to try to prove to herself it was real.

He would never forget the loving and content look on her face for as long as he lived.

It was probably what motivated to get her another box one year later.

Only that one had a ring in it.

And two years later?

She gave him a box with a onesie inside that said “I was Daddy’s Christmas present”.

#csss20 #captain swan secret santa 2020 #resident-of-storybrooke #blaire's writing #captain swain fic

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sissytobitch10seconds · 3 years

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Symbols of Heart

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Summary: Four Soulmarks all the way up his forearm. A yellow monkey A white glove A pink horn A silver engine Four Soulmates, all of which he is far too terrified to meet. Warnings: Eating disorders, depression, anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, suicide attempts, mentions of abuse, mentions of childhood neglect, bad mental health, poor relationships, and mental health recovery, transphobia, transphobic characters, transphobic slurs, and physical fights Word Count: approx. 40,000 Chapters: 16 Ship(s): Shinsou Hitoshi/Iida Tenya/Ashido Mina/Hagakure Tooru/Ojiro Mashiro

Archive link!

Chapter 1: Anxieties

“Kara, come here,” the elderly, soothing voice called out from the wheelchair that was parked in the corner of the room. The purple-haired girl looked up from the book that she had been reading by the delicate fire blazing in the fireplace. She placed it down carefully before she rushed over to where her grandmother was sitting. “Sit on my lap, child,” she cooed, patting her legs with a gentle smile.

She did as she was told, sitting down carefully. “What is it, Grandmother?” she asked curiously. The elderly woman had always made her read before bed and never before had she interrupted that time, so her doing so now only spiked the child’s curiosity.

“I would like to tell you a story. Something that you will need for your entire life,” she answered, her eyes becoming distant and wistful. “Do you know where Soulmarks come from?”

“Everyone is born with a Soulmark,” she answered, fidgeting a bit sheepishly. “And they get bolder until you meet your Soulmate.”

“Correct,” the older woman said, her voice sounding wondrously prideful. She raised her sleeve a bit, exposing her arm. The wrinkled skin held a small white heart with a black lock in the middle of it.“This is my Soulmark, and your grandfather’s. Do you know where they came from originally? The tale of how humans were blessed with Soulmates?”

“No,” Kara shook his head, causing long purple hair to fall over her shoulder and in front of her violet eyes.

“It started in Greece. Humans were originally made of beings with multiple heads and limbs. Though they all only had one heart, shared with multiple souls. One day, the human all tried to climb up the mountain to get to the places where the Gods lived despite being warned not to,” the elderly woman began to ramble. On her lap, her granddaughter listened intently. “The Gods grew angry, and as a punishment, they split them up into what we think of as humans now. Two arms, two legs, one head, and one soul, but the hearts were all broken into pieces. Soon, the other Gods from elsewhere heard what had happened and did the same thing to the humans that they were ruling over, as a way to make sure that the Greeks were getting properly punished. Once all of the humans were split up, they were forced elsewhere across the world. They were all hurting and aching as they tried to find the people that they had once been connected with. After quite some time, Aphrodite, one of the Greek Gods got together with the other Gods of love, and they all formed Soulmarks. Now, our Soulmarks lead us to those that we love.”

“Are mother and father Soulmates?” Kara asked, remembering every time that she had heard the two of them shouting at each other like they were nemeses.

“Yes, they are. Even if they do not get along as well as your grandfather and I do. Not everyone loves their Soulmate in the same way. Some people just find their best friends in their Soulmate, some people find their life partners,” the woman explained, putting her hand on the young girl’s back as she sensed her getting upset.

“Does everyone have only one Soulmate?” she asked, her arm immediately flying to her lower arm where her four Soulmarks rested.

“No, little one,” her grandmother soothed, placing a careful hand on her arm. “You are very special. You have four Soulmates who will love and care for you. Though you must love and care for them just as much as they do for you.”

“What if they don’t love me?” she asked, getting a bit unsure. If all five of them were Soulmates, there had to be a chance that they wouldn’t love her.

“Kara,” her grandmother sighed, the name making the little girl flinch a bit. The elderly woman took notice of the flinch but chose not to say anything about it. “It is impossible for someone to not love you. Even if they do not want you as a romantic partner, or if you do not want them as a romantic partner, they will love you in a way.”

“Promise?” she asked, holding up her hand with only her pinky finger up.

“I promise,” her grandmother answered, wrapping her shaky pinky finger around the young girl’s.

Hitoshi blinked as he woke up, tears pushing out of his eyes and running down his face. It had been so long since he had thought about the memory of his grandmother.

So much had changed since then, and it was truly the last calm moment that he had had with her. She had passed away almost two weeks later, leaving his grandfather grieving so much that he had passed away a month later. It had been completely world-shattering for him to lose both of his grandparents in such quick succession of each other. They had been his primary caretakers seeing as his parents were rarely ever home.

He had been six when he had to learn to take care of himself. He had learned how to make breakfast from his grandmother before she passed away and lunch was served at school, so he hadn’t had to worry about either of those. Dinner had been harder, which left him so hungry that his stomach hurt most days. He lost scary amounts of weight until he had been so thin that his teacher called the police on his parents. His home life was thoroughly investigated. He was removed from his home when it had been deemed unsafe, and given to a foster parent that didn’t want another troubled kid.

He had only lasted there for about three months before he was passed onto the next home. He spent the next three years being moved from home to home to home, never finding anyone that wanted to keep a malnourished, ‘freak’ of a kid. Having that happen only made his already existing anxiety ten times worse. He had been nine when he realized that the reason that he kept getting passed around was the fact that he had four Soulmarks on his arm. Another reason was that he had started asking to be called Hitoshi instead of Kara as he discovered that he related less and less with the female identity.

When he was ten, he fell into the only foster home that kept him for more than six months. They also fully accepted him when it came to his name and pronouns. They had even gone so far as to ask the school he was attending to call him by his preferred name and pronouns as well. They didn’t have any other foster kids, so they paid a lot of their attention to him.

When he was twelve, he was diagnosed with PTSD from the trauma he had experienced when he was six and began to go to therapy. That same year, the couple that was fostering him adopted him. Just as his thoughts traveled to the couple that he now called his dads, one of them knocked on his door.

“Hitoshi, get up,” Shouta called out, his voice just as tired and put out as he felt. The purple-haired boy groaned just loud enough that his adoptive father could hear him as he pushed himself off of his bed. He paused, waiting for the tell-tale sounds of footsteps walking away from his bedroom door. Once he heard them he shed his night clothes and grabbed his new school uniform. He was still disgruntled from the more than vivid dream that he had had, meaning that it was harder to get his binder to fit than it was on most days.

He stumbled out of his room almost ten minutes later, finally dressed into the uniform for the high school that he was going to be attending. It was early in the morning, earlier than most students would be up on their first day of school. He had to go to the school with his adoptive dads, who both taught there. “Remember to take your meds,” Hizashi called from where he was sitting at the table.

“Yeah,” Hitoshi mumbled as he walked across the tiny hall to the bathroom. He opened the cupboard, pulling out the small prescription bottle. The pills were tiny, making it easy for him to swallow even on days where he woke up feeling so anxious that his throat closed off. His stomach rolled a bit as he grabbed one of the pills out of the bottle. The thought of having to eat or drink anything was incredibly unappealing, but he knew that everything would be ten times more awful if he didn’t take the meds. He took a deep breath, soothing himself a bit before he tossed his head back and forced the entire mouthful of water down his throat with the pill.

He shuffled back to the kitchen, rubbing his throat as he tried to soothe himself. Both of his adoptive fathers sat at the table, Shouta having his morning cup of coffee that he always needed to fully wake up. “You ready for your first day of school?” Hizashi asked, looking away from where he been staring at his husband.

“Not really,” he sighed, sitting down at the only other seat at the table. He reached behind him, stretching a bit to grab the fidget cube that he had on the bookcase by the wall. His hands fell into his lap as he began to play with it.

“What are you worried about?” Shouta asked, peeking out at him from over his coffee cup. “With both of us working there it’s not like you’ll get bullied like you did in middle school. We’ll make damn sure of that.”

“Shouta, swearing, You should get out of that habit before we start teaching again,” Hizashi huffed, looking at his husband for a minute before he turned back to adoptive son. “Middle school is really the worst part of everyone’s life, everything gets a little bit better in high school.”

“Dad, I get that you’re trying to help, but the kids kind of a had a reason for bullying me. No one has four Soulmates, it’s weird.”

“Not really. Having a weird set of Soulmates is pretty much normal at this school. One of your other teachers has two Soulmates who aren’t Soulmates with each other, just with him. Having several Soulmates isn’t weird, you’re just special,” Shouta rambled, staring down into the dark brown liquid that filled his mug.

“Okay. Whatever. I still have to go to school regardless of whether or not I want to,” he sighed, rolling his eyes a bit. He tugged on his sleeves, trying to hide the marks that peaked out of the bottom of his uniform.

He had four Soulmarks, one of which was planted so low on his arm that it peeked out from underneath his sleeve. The one at the top was an intricate yellow monkey. The one underneath it was a white glove, and then a pink horn. The one on his wrist was a silver engine. He had spent a lot of sleepless night staring at them, wondering who might be looking at the same Soulmarks, wondering why they had been blessed with four Soulmates instead of the normal one. As he waited for his fathers to say that it was time to go, his mind strayed to what kind of people his Soulmates would be.

The yellow monkey, would they be joyous and playful? Would they have blond hair? Would they be the class clown, or would they be the prankster?

The white glove, would they be rich? Or would they be deaf? Would they love Winter when they got to wear gloves? Or would they work in a garden?

The pink horn, would they like animals? Did they even like the color pink? Were they bullheaded? Or maybe they were aggressive?

The silver engine, were they rich? Or were they a mechanic? Would they smell like gasoline and oil? Would they be brilliant? Or would they be a burly man who was only good for moving heavy things?

Those were only some of the questions that had raced through his mind during his sleepless, fidgeting nights spent worrying. But there was always one that terrified him more than anything.

Would they accept him for being trans?

Follow the link to read the rest of it on Archive!

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ineloqueent · 4 years

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Starstruck: Part 15

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 15 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 14 / Part 16

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.

Warnings: swearing, drinking

Historical Inaccuracies:

Mary didn’t go on tour with Queen in 1975

On the 14th of November, 1975, Queen did not leave early for the start of the ANATO tour. Indeed, they “had to rush from London to Liverpool” (x) because they had been shooting the music video for ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ in the very same afternoon as the day of their first gig on tour!

Word Count: 3.8k

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

August, September, and October disappeared in such a whirlwind rush that you hardly noticed them. You didn’t have time to notice much these days.

Queen were running thirty-eight-hour sessions at multiple recording studios throughout London, working day and night to record and refine the material for their still unnamed fourth album.

Preparations for a release in late November were in full swing, and Queen’s manager Reid was neglecting meetings with Elton John— Elton bloody John, it would never cease to amaze you— to dedicate his time to organising the legs of Queen’s next world tour. Locations, bookings, the transport of instruments and equipment and people, lodging, catering, insurance; the list of things to arrange was endless.

Which was why you often played assistant to Reid, in the absence of Reid’s actual assistant— some clonker named Paul Prenter who turned up late to meetings and had far too much to say for how few hours he put into going to work. You couldn’t be Reid’s full-time assistant, however, because you also tagged along with Roy Thomas Baker, Queen’s producer, since Freddie had more or less insisted that you do so.

You spent a lot of time with Queen, both in the studio and out of it.

In the studio, Freddie consulted you on album concept, Deacy relied on you for input on the song he was writing about Veronica, and Brian taught you to play ‘‘39’. Hearing you sing along with Brian, Roger decided that you should help with backing vocals on one of Freddie’s tracks, and much to everyone’s delight, he coaxed you into agreement. You weren’t delighted with this arrangement, though; you were far too nervous that you’d ruin the vocals of the others.

Outside of the studio, Freddie continued to harp on about your musical education, as he called it, lending you records until you were listening to his music almost constantly.

“I want you to have memorised my collection, darling,” he said one night, swirling his wine, “by the time we set off on tour.”

“Um, okay… That’s a lot of music, Freddie,” you’d swallowed, eyeing the quite frankly enormous record collection that Freddie’s living room housed.

“Psh, all in a day’s work.”

You saw Roger the least out of the four, because when not at Queen’s various recording locations, he was… well, he was bedding Heather, to put it politely. He did take you for the occasional drink and a banter, though. You found that you and he shared a lot of similarities in terms of childhood and upbringing, and this made Roger more brotherly to you than ever.

When he had the time, John would join Roger and you for drinks at the local pub, and the three of you would spend far too long chatting away into the evening. But mostly, Deacy and Ronnie were knackered from their parenting of Robert, and when you could see it all beginning to take a toll on John— he went from the studio to caring for his son and did not sleep in between— you offered yourself as a babysitting service. Deacy and Veronica were immensely grateful for this, because Robert seemed to like you, Auntie Y/N, and though the child could scream bloody murder if he so wished, he was generally a good kid. It was enjoyable to see him learning the ways of the world around him, from lights and colours, to the sounds of his parents’ voices.

Sometimes, when you babysat Robert, Brian came along.

Robert may have liked you, but he loved Brian.

Brian had helped John and Veronica to hang glow-in-the dark stars and planet-mobiles from the ceiling of what was to be Robert’s room when he moved out of his parents’ bedroom, and Brian had been as animated by the activity as though he had been decorating a room for himself.

When Brian visited Robert, he sang to him and rocked the child in his arms and danced about the room, quite forgetting that there was anybody else there. Robert would giggle and occasionally attempt to poke Brian’s nose, which brought Brian no end of wonder, and once again affirmed for you that Brian’s aspirations of one day becoming a father were well-suited to him.

Unfailingly, on the nights when Deacy and Veronica were away, once Robert fell asleep, Brian would suggest that the two of you take to the rooftop to see the stars— of course bringing with you a baby monitor. Thus, you spent many an evening wrapped in a blanket atop the roof of your friend’s house while your best friend sat beside you, cheeks flushed with the cold but unwilling to return inside, even though his teeth chattered and his hair blew about his face in the chilly wind. You began to bring hot chocolate to the roof, though what you really wanted to do to warm Brian was to curl into his side and snuggle close to him.

You didn’t, though. You reserved your pining for him in the form of long, lingering looks.

He’d called you his best friend, and best friends, you told yourself, were built upon platonic principles. If he’d wanted romantic involvement with you, he would have made that clear, and he hadn’t, so you resigned yourself to pushing your feelings down in the pit of your stomach and pretending that his smiles didn’t melt you as easily as chocolate on a summer’s day. Naturally, however, pushing feelings down doesn’t make them go away, but rather concentrates them more, so that every brief glance and accidental touch makes one feel that everything is just that much closer to bubbling over entirely.

But Brian was everywhere you looked, inescapable, inevitable, smiling and just being generally goofy, spouting the most fascinating facts about the cosmos at odd intervals, urging you to sing with him when he sang, nodding at you approvingly over his guitar when you matched his vibrato almost perfectly one Thursday night. Because despite everything, despite Queen’s dawn-to-dusk-to-dawn schedule, Brian still made time for teaching you guitar on Thursday nights.

If it wasn’t for the nights, you might have thought that you could take it.

Take him winking at you and calling you ‘love’ at irregular moments so that your heart stuttered and your thoughts grew sluggishly slow. Take him being near you at almost every hour of every day, and long into the nights as well. Take him existing in his willowy gorgeousness, sunshine-warmed skin and sunlit eyes, soft curls, wide-eyes, angular frame.

But the nights were long, because Brian had confessed that he had begun to sleep better as of late, and this rendered his beauty healthier, more stark, in light of his getting enough rest.

Yes, the nights were long, not for him but for you, because you couldn’t close your eyes without seeing his gentle smile and his hazel eyes.

It was as though he had traded you a milder case of his insomnia, and it frustrated you perpetually, because when you weren’t working or lounging about with Queen, you were studying intensely so as to take your final exams early.

Indeed, you’d committed to not only Queen, but to astrophysics as well.

You were working overtime to finish this year’s coursework early— very early— in fact, by the middle of this month.

You’d been surprised that Dr. Carmichael had even agreed to help you in the first place, but you suspected that something about your situation had reminded him of himself. In the very least, when you’d boldly asked him why he was willing to help you with extra lecture hours and study sessions, he’d said something cryptic about once having missed an opportunity himself, and that he regretted nothing more in his life. You’d been floored that he would openly admit something so personal, being that Carmichael wasn’t the open-book type, but he’d only smiled sadly and told you to have your next paper on his desk by Monday.

It was all very stressful, going from the studio to studying and back to the studio. Your days dissolved into exam preparations and recording sessions, with only guitar lessons in between.

The most difficult part of it all was the guitar lessons.

Brian right across from you, biting his lip, bending strings up the fretboard with long fingers and a concentrated gaze. He’d glance up and nod to you, upon which you’d copy the movement he’d just done, and he would either nod again and continue in whatever song he was playing, or offer you critique. He was articulate in his teaching, and his manner utterly enamoured you, because he moved as though he were made of light.

God, you wanted to kiss him. Just the thought of him being so close to you, touching you, made you shiver. He was so delicate in everything that he did, and you wanted his delicate hands against your skin, his mouth on your mouth, breathing the same air, and you wanted him to want you.

Perhaps that was why you’d begun flirting with him, against your every notion of common sense.

It was just an innuendo here, a touch there, winking at him over your guitar. You didn’t even know where any of it was coming from, because you’d never once in your life had the confidence to flirt. Maybe you drew confidence from Brian’s reaction each time you said or did something suggestive; he blushed, looked down, smiled boyishly. Fucking hell, he was cute. And you felt an inexplicable rush of adrenaline every time you got away with pushing boundaries.

It had been Friday afternoon when Freddie opened a bottle of Moët et Chandon in the kitchen of his flat, and you were with him and Roger and John and Brian to cry woah! when the bubbly liquid shot out of the bottle and onto the floor.

“Freddie,” Brian tutted, shaking his head, and you tried not to laugh.

Roger tossed Brian a tea towel and Brian mopped up the spilled champagne.

“Well, darlings, that’s it,” said Freddie a few minutes later as the five of you gripped filled glasses, “that’s the next album!”

There was a cheer.

Roger raised his glass. “To…” He frowned. “To what? We haven’t exactly named the album.”

You all frowned. Then Deacy shook his head. “To the album!” he said.

“To the album!” you all chorused, laughter abundant in the moments before everyone drank their champagne.

This afternoon, it had been just you and the band, because Freddie had wanted an in-celebration before he threw the actual party for the album on the first night of the tour. But this afternoon gathering also had other significance: today was Reid’s deadline for when the name of the album had to be decided.

And by the time you left Freddie’s place at five that evening, a film had been watched, and a decision had been made.

The name of the album was to be as rivetingly dramatic and as magnificently opulent as the name of Queen.

The album was to be called A Night At The Opera.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

The wind was a character in itself, and the sky was weary with the plethora of grey clouds it carried, but it was not raining.

You noticed, because you wanted to remember. You wanted to remember everything about today, the day you set off for Liverpool. With Queen.

You were going on tour.

With Queen.

It hadn’t really sunk in yet. Still, it was happening, because you were walking from the Underground to the tour bus pickup point, which was by one of the studios Queen had been using to record the album.

You had packed light— a minimal array of clothes that would last you a while, being mixed and matched and reused until a washing machine could be located; some essential toiletries; a few well-loved books; your messenger bag; your guitar.

You’d dressed in your warmest, heaviest clothes from the beginning, layering as your mum had always taught you to do.

Your mum. She’d rung you last night.

“And you promise me you’ll call?” she’d said, as though she were in some dramatic film about her daughter leaving on some risky adventure, during which all the characters in the movie learn emotional maturity through a montage of artistically-shot scenes.

You’d sighed, every bit the exasperated daughter. “I’ve promised you before, mum. You know I always keep my word.”

But the dramatic film analogy had indeed borne a grain of truth. This was an adventure, and it was risky.

Money wasn’t something you’d brought much of, because it wasn’t something you had much of. Queen were already covering your expenses as far as food and lodging, and you hadn’t wanted to bother your parents for any money, given how you were already letting them down a little in postponing the completion of your astrophysics degree.

But, as ineloquent as the phrase was, this tour was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

How many people would be able to look back on their life and say, ‘yes, I went on a world tour with a rock ‘n’ roll band’? So few. So few that it was almost saddening that you were getting the chance to do something like this, while so many others would never.

And to think that you’d almost not come along.

Brian was leaning against the tour bus, a book held elegantly before his face as he rested his elbow on his other arm, which was wrapped around his upper body. He looked cold, with windburn colouring his cheeks, his lower lip tucked between his teeth, and his arm was likely wrapped around him more for warmth than in support of the book.

He lowered the novel as you approached, a lovely smile already on his face.

“Morning!” he said brightly.

“Shh,” you chided. “It’s three AM, Brian.”

“Ah, yes,” Brian nodded, his face serious. “No decent people have got up yet.”

“What does that make us?” you laughed.

He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Indecent,” he winked.

You’d thought there was only so many times that Brian May could make you blush, but here you were again, blushing like you were five years old, instead of twenty-five.

“Not on my bus, you’re not,” said Freddie to Brian, hopping down off of the tour bus.

Brian rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a hypocrite, Fred.”

“I think you should be directing your chastity comments toward Roger and Heather, Freddie,” you said, nodding in the direction of the two shadowy figures that had been approaching, only to stop in the middle of the empty road to have a snog.

Freddie wrinkled his nose. “Yes indeed. We may need some ground rules.”

Deacy stuck his head out of the bus. “ROGER! No shagging on the bus!”

“Shhh!” you and Brian and Freddie cried all at once.

“Three o’clock in the morning, everyone,” you said. “Three o’clock.”

“Now that, dearie,” Freddie raised a finger, “reminds me. I’m going back to sleep.”

He mounted the steps to the bus once more, and disappeared inside.

“Me too, I think,” said John, blinking tired eyes before following Freddie back onto the bus.

Tucking his book into the folds of his coat, Brian turned to you. “Can I give you a hand with that?” he nodded to your suitcase.

“Yeah, thanks.”

He took your suitcase and loaded it onto the bus, and offered to take your guitar as well, until Roadie-John turned up and muttered something about being put out of a job, confiscating your guitar from Brian.

Brian widened his eyes at you, and the two of you boarded the bus before you could offend any more roadies at far too early of an hour.

“By the way,” Brian said as he held the door open for you, “I like your scarf.”

You tugged on the end of the rainbow garment. “I wonder why.”

Inside, Roger and Heather had arrived and were sitting in a booth by the window, flicking through polaroids. Mary was there too, and she smiled sleepily at you and Brian as you entered, her eyes only half-focussed on the magazine in her lap.

Freddie and Deacy had each drawn the curtains of their bunks. From the sounds of snoring that drifted from their direction, it was obvious that they’d both already fallen asleep again. You envied their ability to slip into unconsciousness so quickly; sleep did not come easily to you, these days.

Brian seemed to think the same thing. “Lucky bastards,” he muttered, “falling asleep like that.”

“Treacherous,” you agreed, and Brian smiled at you. But then you yawned, and he raised his eyebrows.

“Am I to expect your betrayal as well?” he said.

You shook your head. “No, just my annoyingness as a travel partner. Chances are I’ll just yawn for hours and never have anything come of it.”

But Brian frowned thoughtfully. “Exactly what time did you go to bed last night?”

You winced, remembering the late hour. In fact, it wasn’t many hours ago at all. “Midnight,” you responded sheepishly.

“Midnight?” said Brian. “You’re worse than me! Go on,” he ushered you toward a pair of seats, “sit down, have a rest. Even if you can’t sleep, it’s good to close your eyes for a bit.”

“Says the insomniac,” you retorted, albeit half-heartedly. You really were rather tired. You slid into the narrow gap, taking the window seat, and Brian sat down beside you. “You know how hard it is to keep your eyes shut when they don’t want to be.”

Brian smiled, and you knew he empathised. “All the same. Less than three hours of sleep, Y/N. That’s quite bad.”

You sighed. “I know, I know.”

Soon, Roadie-John, Crystal, and Ian Brown, who was to be managing the UK leg of the tour, boarded, and with the driver in his seat, the bus rolled out of Osborn Street and onto the main road.

“Think I’ll try reading,” you said, pulling out the book at the top of the pile in your bag. Brian shrugged off his coat, folding it in his lap and retrieving his paperback from one of the inner pockets.

He looked at his book, and then at yours, and then back at his again.

“What is it?”

“We could just have brought the one copy and shared it,” he said, “saved that packing space.” A goofy grin was on his face as he waved his copy of Steppenwolf, the very same book you held in your hands.

“Oh! You like Hermann Hesse?”

“He’s my favourite author,” said Brian, and the same stupid grin he’d worn before appeared on your own face.

“Good taste,” you told him, covering a yawn.

Crystal dimmed the overhead lights. “I’m going to sleep,” he announced to no one in particular, and as you looked around, you found that, with the exception of the driver, you and Brian were the only ones left awake.

“Well then,” Brian said in the darkness, “there’s not really any good light to read by.”

You snorted. “If you’re trying to convince me to go to sleep, you’re failing miserably.”

Wordlessly, Brian slid his book into the seat pocket in front of him, then eased your bag from your lap and the book from your hands, setting your bag on the floor and the book into its own seat pocket. He lifted his coat from his own lap and draped it over you, tucking it in around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry I’ve nothing more to offer you,” he said softly, as the lights of the city swept over his face through the uncovered window.

And yet he’d given you everything he had. Selflessly, without a thought, though the morning was cold and he still had not warmed from standing outdoors in the wake of the wind.

The simple gesture filled you with such an adoration that you had no way to express it.

You shuffled closer to him and laid his coat across you both, then settled your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Brian.”

He leaned his head against yours, and you were reminded of the night at Ridge Farm.

You sighed quietly, cuddling into his side. You fought to keep your eyes open, but you were so tired, and Brian was so warm.

“Go to sleep and dream again,” he murmured sweetly, and your eyelids felt a thousand times heavier than before.

“What if I miss something?” you whispered, because the fear of the world passing you by was suddenly overwhelming.

Brian’s voice hummed in harmony with the peaceful silence around him. “I’ll be right here to tell you about everything when you wake up again.”

“Everything?”

“Every butterfly and every tree,” he promised. “Every hole in the road and every star in the sky.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

“Y/N,” Brian was shaking your shoulder gently. “Love, we’re here.”

You groaned. “M’was fimally ‘sleep,” you said.

“I know. I’ve already postponed waking you for this long, though,” he said. “The others have left. They’ve unloaded the bus.”

You sat up blearily. “Well, I should get on with it, then.”

Brian smiled. “You can sleep when you get to your hotel room. It’s not like we’ve got anything to do today, anyway, until soundcheck.”

“Well, you’ve got to tell me about everything you saw while I was asleep.”

He laughed. “Shouldn’t take too long. It was London to Liverpool, there’s not much to report.”

You passed him his coat, which had somehow migrated entirely over to you, and he passed you your bag, slipping your book back into one of the pockets.

Brian looked at you a moment, and you stared back up at him, wondering what he saw in your half-open eyes and messy hair while you were met with the sight of pretty hazel irises and immaculate curls.

He reached for the rainbow scarf and wound it around you more tightly, adjusting your jumper so that it wasn’t in the way. His touch lingered on the nape of your neck, his eyes roamed yours. His lips were rendered a dusky pink in the pale morning light.

“It’s cold in Liverpool,” he said, and slid from his seat.

Your eyes followed him as he disembarked the bus, his curls bobbing as he bent a little to avoid hitting his head on a beam.

Anyone could have seen the longingness in your stare, how you yearned to call him back, pull him to you, kiss him until he was lost for both breath and words, watch him blush the way he made you blush.

There was really nothing stopping you.

You’re my best friend.

So perhaps there was one thing stopping you.

Brian poked his head back through the door. Affection bloomed in your chest at the mere sight of him. It was sickening.

“Coming?” he asked, far too awake for seven o’clock in the morning.

“Yeah,” you said. “Coming.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: filler? call me out. it’s okay, because next week is chapter 16 :’)

taglist: @melting-obelisks @sgt-stardustkillerqueen @hgmercury39 @topsecretdeacon @joemazzmatazz @perriwiinkle @brianmays-hair @im-an-adult-ish @ilikebigstucks @doing-albri @killer-queen-87 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @archaicmusings @cloudyyspace @annina-96 @themarchoftherainbowqueen @annajolras

Masterpost / Part 14 / Part 16

#tina's writing #starstruck #brian may x reader #fic

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calmlftv · 4 years

Text

run away with me. - a.i.

description: after a sad and slightly messy rejection in September 2011, you and ashton meet again, the universe apparently deciding your story wasn’t over yet.

word count: 5.4k

warnings: angst, but with a happy ending

w/n: this is.....so much longer than i thought it would be lmao, but pls enjoy! also a big thank you for getting lil ol’ me to 300 followers, i’m still in shock but so so grateful 🥺

taglist: @spicycal @castaway-cashton @irwinkitten @n-ctarinenga

***

September 27th, 2011

The evening was cooler than you had anticipated, the sweat that connected your work shirt to your skin bringing a chill to your body as you walked home from work, your school bag against your shoulders and back. Your legs and feet ached from running around the retail store you worked at, tourists asking you loads of questions about sizing, pricing, and sometimes making a fuss about something out of your control entirely before storming out of the store. After the fifth customer you helped made you cry, your boss sent you to the registers, sentenced to ringing everybody out and arguing about coupons for the rest of your shift.

The few blocks between you and your bed went by quickly, your feet bringing you to the doorstep of your home just in time for curfew. You pushed your way inside and closed the door behind you, locking it like you always did before carrying yourself up the stairs.

“Hey there, petal,” your dad greeted from the couch. “Mum’s made dinner, should be a plate set for you in the fridge.”

“Thanks dad,” you said, forcing yourself to sound cheerful as you walked into the kitchen. “Mum in her office?” You spoke while moving about the kitchen, your backpack moving against your back as you heated up your food for yourself. You didn’t dare put it down on the ground in case your mother came in, not wanting to hear her berate you again after the day you’ve had.

Your dad stayed in his seat on the couch, whatever news channel he was engrossed in playing on the T.V. screen in front of him. “Yep. Best not to disturb her.”

Silently you nodded, internally cheering with joy while you grabbed cutlery and left the kitchen. “Mind if I take this to my room so I can study?”

Dad grunted an approval and off you go, quietly moving up the stairs to your bedroom, a plate of hot food in hand as you closed and locked your bedroom door. Once you had set down the food on your desk you let out a sigh, letting the bag fall off your back and land on the floor with a dull thud. You took a second to crawl into bed and bury yourself against your pillows, taking a deep breath and exhaling it as you closed your eyes.

Silence filled your room as you relaxed from your day, the constant emotions flowing out of you as you finally had a chance to process them all. Even at the age of 16 you were good at doing that, naming emotions and processing through them before you let them go, exhaling them through your nose when you had the chance to do so by yourself. It was days like these where you silently cursed your family for moving from Hornsby to Sydney, your cell phone silent as it sat in your back pocket; your childhood friends have long since stopped talking to you, especially with how strict your parents were, and while you were making friends in Sydney, it was slow going when you had such an early curfew and so many rules to follow.

As you were finally forcing yourself to get up, a tap against your window startled you, your head snapping over your shoulder to search for the source of the offending sound. A gasp escaped you as you watched a small pebble knock against your window, rushing over to open it and lean out the window.

Standing below you was your boyfriend Ashton, his brown hair falling over his face as he grinned widely up at you. Quickly you waved him up, the 17 year old quickly finding hand and foot holds as he climbed his way up the side of your house. You kept an eye out for your parents until he made it to your window, his limbs fumbling through the window as he climbed inside, his foot knocking a photo off your nightstand on his way in, thankfully not breaking the frame as it landed on the carpet with him.

You grinned, smothering a giggle as Ashton scrambled to his feet in front of you, his arms automatically sliding around your waist and pulling you close as he pressed his lips to yours. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you smiled against his lips, pulling him as close as physically possible before you broke apart.

With a finger to your lips you moved away from him, pressing your ear against the door while Ashton carefully moved to your bed. When you didn’t hear anybody on the other side you grabbed your old iPod and speaker off your desk and set them by your door, putting on some music at a soft volume so your parents would think you were studying before moving to join Ashton on your bed, grabbing the plate of lukewarm food from your desk to share.

Ashton took the food and set it aside, hands moving to your waist again as he pulled you into his lap, a quiet laugh coming from your lips as he kissed your cheek.

“Hey,” you said softly, keeping your voice quiet to listen for your parents. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here? Does Anne know you’re here?”

The boy chuckled, his lips moving to press kisses wherever he could reach. “Anne knows I’m here,” he mumbled, his lips finding yours again as his arms moved around your waist and gave you a squeeze. “I got tired of your parents cockblocking us, and it’s a Tuesday and I have nothing to do.”

“What about your school work?”

Ashton pulled back and gave you a look that made you giggle. “Nevermind then.”

He chuckled, kissing your nose as you settled against his chest. You took a deep breath, the smell of him filling your lungs as you cuddled in. Ashton was your rock, probably the only person from Hornsby that still talked to you, and was probably the love of your life. Your parents think he’s a menace and refuse to let you see him, even though they know nothing about your relationship; to them you were best friends who were polar opposites, and Ashton was the reason you didn’t fit in their ideas of perfection. A lot of the rules they imposed on you came from various times you have snuck out to see him and been caught, but the two of you always found a way to be together, even if it was as dangerous as, say, climbing into a window.

A gentle hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head up to his as his beautiful hazel eyes smiled at you. It was like he was reading your thoughts when he looked at you like this, downloading everything about your day just by looking at you for a few seconds.

“Bad day?”

You nodded silently, the music pausing briefly as the song changed. Ashton paused with it, only speaking when the chorus picked up.

“C’mon, let’s just cuddle.”

Another nod and the two of you shifted, Ashton pulling back your blankets while you got up, putting the plate of food in your garbage and quickly disappearing into the bathroom to change before you turned the music off and climbed into bed with your boyfriend.

Once you were settled on your side Ash crawled in after you, wrapping an arm around you as you reached over, turning off the light in your room and settling in. You turned over to face him, his arm still around you as you moved yours to rest against his chest, his lips connecting with your forehead as you buried your face against him.

You don’t remember falling asleep but wasn’t surprised when you woke up hours later, the sounds of someone moving around your room pulling you from your sleep. You cracked your eyes open and shifted, looking at the clock on your bedside: 2:16 a.m.

Groaning quietly you sat up, rubbing at your eyes as you felt the end of your bed dip, someone sitting down and a hand resting on your leg. You looked up and met Ashton’s eyes, a small half smile on his lips as he looked at you, the moonlight pouring in from your window lighting up the room enough for you to see him.

“Run away with me.”

His words rang in the air as you looked at him, still confused from your sleep.

“What?”

“Run away with me,” he repeated, moving to be closer to you. You looked around and noticed he had packed up your duffle for you, the bag sitting under the window he had climbed in earlier, a bit of a mess around the room from him putting things in there for you. Confusion came to your face again as you met his eyes.

“Right now?” He nodded. “Ash-”

“Hear me out,” he said sweetly, voice soft as he caught your attention. “You’re always talking about how your parents are strict and overbearing. You hate Sydney and your job.” He paused, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips. “We always talk about starting a life together. So, why should we wait? Why not start it right now?”

The gesture wasn’t lost on you; as a hopeless romantic and dreamer at heart, you couldn’t help but feel appreciated and loved, this boy of your dreams sitting with you and pleading for you to be his forever absolutely tugging at your heart strings. You wanted to get up and throw your shoes and jacket on and leave forever with him, it didn’t matter where the destination was, it just mattered that you would have him with you forever.

But your logical part kept you rooted in the bed, all the repercussions of your actions and anxiety immediately springing to the front of your mind. You were deeply and wildly in love with Ashton, but running away together? Dropping out of school and ending up somewhere with no connections? How would you live and pay for things, how would you find a good paying job to get a home? Not to mention the fact that you’re both minors, and no doubt both of your families would be looking for you the second they found out you were gone.

You chewed on your bottom lip, Ashton’s bright smile faltering as you looked at him. Your hand squeezed his.

“Baby,” you whispered, tears filling your eyes. You felt them start to spill down your cheeks as you licked your lips. “I can’t.”

Ash’s brow furrowed, confusion reigning over his face as he sat back. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t run away with you.”

He stopped, a wave of different emotions pouring over his face as he stared at you. His eyes scanned your face as you sobbed, your gaze held by his as he tried so hard to read your mind but failed.

“Why?”

You let out a sob as he spoke, his broken heart escaping with the word as he said it. He wasn’t angry with you, his face unreadable as he just looked at you, waiting for an answer.

“I-” you choked, unable to continue as you squeezed his hand. You took a moment to collect yourself as best you could, reaching up to wipe at your face. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

The love of your life looked at you, his face crumbling before he forced himself to hide it. The new face he had on was worse than you could have anticipated, watching him shut down in front of you as his hand slipped out of yours.

“Ashton-”

He held up a hand silently, shifting to stare into the empty room. His elbows rested on his knees, his face burying into his hands as you started wringing your hands in your lap, sobs heaving in your chest as you pleaded with him.

“Ashton, please-”

He stood abruptly, moving towards the window and starting to climb out again. You caught a glimpse of his face in the moonlight, tears streaking down his face as he left the way he came.

You quickly jumped up and chased after him, grabbing his sleeve just before he got out of reach. “Ashton,” you begged, tugging him back to you. He didn’t look at you but your eyes moved to his shoulders, noticing how they shook as he silently sobbed.

“I love you. Please, don’t leave.”

He stopped for just a moment, and in your mind you thought you were okay; you imagined him coming back into the window and the two of you crying together until you fell asleep again together, waking up at the crack of dawn to say goodbye for now and seeing each other again over the weekend. The image of you peacefully sleeping against him, cuddling up right under his chin in the way he loved gave you hope, your fingers loosening around his sleeve as he seemed to lean back towards you.

Instead he gently pulled away from you, carefully finding the foot and hand holds again as he climbed down the side of your house, jumping the last couple of feet and shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked away from the house. You stood at your window, tears burning hot against your skin until you slammed the window shut and locked it, throwing yourself back into bed and burying your face in your pillow just in time to muffle a heaving sob, the sound echoing off the walls around you despite your best efforts to cover it.

The rest of the night passed with you crying, drool and salty tears mixing on your pillow case until it was soaked. As the sun rose again you started to feel numb, the dawn of a new day bringing you to your bathroom to get ready for school.

That was the last time you saw Ashton. Until now.

Present Day - July 15th, 2020

“No, that’s not how that works-“ you argued, immediately being interrupted by someone on the end of the phone call, annoyance making your eye twitch. This simple phone call had meant to last a few minutes and was now reaching the half hour mark, your feet slowly pacing back and forth as the phone pinched against your ear.

“Alright, this is what we’re going to do,” you interrupted finally, passerby giving you a strange look as they moved by you. You ignored them, focusing instead on the person on the phone. “You’re going to hold off on doing anything until I get there in a few days, and if I find out you didn’t do that, I’m going to find someone else who will. Understood?

The person on the other side was silent. “Good. Glad we had this talk.” Your thumb angrily ended the call, your feet bringing you to the corner of the closest building so you could lean up against it, head falling back against the brick as you closed your eyes and sighed.

Ever since that night in September, your life has consistently been a smooth trek up-hill, everything coming up just fine as you kept your head down. You finished school and you were accepted to Harvard Business School, but the summer before you were set to leave brought all sorts of problems; financially, you couldn’t afford to go to Harvard, even with the considerate amount of financial aid and scholarships you won, so you had to give your spot away, heart broken about turning down your top choice.

You somehow ended up at UCLA instead, one of the safety schools you had been accepted to with a full ride, and studied your heart out with a Linguistics and Education major instead. Moving to a whole different country was the biggest culture shock you have ever had, getting in more than your fair share of arguments over proper terms for certain things, but your studies and friends kept you occupied for most of the time, every single one of your friends cheering you on while you worked your tail off for your undergrad.

May came and went and June crept up on you, finals and deadlines passing as you worked harder than you ever had in your life, but nothing beat the feeling of finally walking across the stage at your graduation, shaking the hands of various administrators while your family proudly beamed from the plastic chairs set up on the lawn. Photos were taken, your friends gave you tearful hugs, and you were off, moving into your own apartment the very same day, your new landlord handing you the keys with a stern ‘congratulations’ before you opened the door and carried all your things in.

Your family stayed an extra couple days to make sure you had everything you need, another tearful goodbye at the airport following them to their gate before you finally had a chance to relax in your new home. You had a good job, you were making rent, and everything was going smoothly - until just now, the anger of the phone call still melting off of you in the hot sun as you stood up straight again, your fingers smoothing out your work shirt as you moved back into the building.

The air conditioning hit you like a ton of bricks as you moved to your desk, thanking the person manning the phones for you during that brief period as you sat down with a sigh. You still had half a day left in your shift before you were free, and deep down all you wanted to go home and lay in bed, the silence of your apartment suddenly so inviting after the events of the day.

An hour passed without incident, then another, until the door in front of you dinged open, your head lifting with your warm customer service smile on as a gaggle of men walked in the door. They were all laughing at something, one of them particularly tickled by whatever was said on the way in as he breathlessly laughed, short bleached hair covered slightly by a hoodie as he looked at another blonde, this one having earrings dangling down from both earlobes and a hat on his head. One with broad shoulders walked up to the desk, a smile on his lips as he ran a hand through his hair, him blocking your view of the other three as they waited.

“Hi, how can I help you?” You asked kindly as he got within earshot, your accent still quite thick when you spoke. The man seemed surprised but smiled nonetheless.

“Uh,” he stuttered a bit as he walked up. “5 Seconds of Summer, here for an interview today?”

You nodded, turning to the computer and confirming before looking back at the man. Something about the band name made your ears ring, a faint familiarity to it that tickled the back of your mind, something trying to nudge itself loose.

“Yup, got you right here,” you confirmed, reaching under your desk for the cold waters you kept there in a small fridge. The man turned to his friends and lifted his hand, probably gesturing them over as you set the waters on the counter in front of you.

“These are complimentary, hopefully helpful is battling the heat outside,” you said, not entirely looking at the men as they walked up to you. You turned and gestured where they were to go, giving them floor numbers before looking back with your winning smile. “Any questions?”

The first man smiled and shook his head, thanking you kindly as three of them started moving. You fully turned back, shuffling your papers around on your desk as you assumed they all left, hearing their chatter fade behind you as you returned to work.

“Y/n?”

Your heart jumped into your throat. That voice-

“Is that you?”

Without thinking your eyes traveled upwards, meeting with a pair of hazel ones that you hadn’t seen in so, so long. It took everything within you to resist the need to touch him, to pull him close and run your fingers through his hair again as your heart absolutely ached. Ashton was standing across the desk from you, shirt open slightly and sunglasses pushed to the top of his head as you just stared.

“Hi,” you said breathlessly, something desperate within you as you looked at him. He looked good, healthy, his hair a bit darker than you remember it being but loving it nonetheless. Looking at him filled a void in your heart you didn’t know existed, just the sight of him bringing you joy again, something that you hadn’t genuinely felt in years. The man in front of you was your one that got away, the only person you had dated in your life that truly left an impression.

“Ashton! Let’s go!”

The call jolted you from your thoughts, Ashton glancing towards the voice and back to you as his eyes searched your face for understanding, for anything that would give him an idea as to how and why the universe had brought you back together. He didn’t seem satisfied, his brow furrowing in confusion again as he turned to walk away.

“Wait.”

He paused, a blush on your cheeks as he met your eyes again. Embarrassed by your boldness you quickly took a piece of paper and jotted down your phone number and apartment address, folding it twice before handing it to him. You weren’t sure if he took the paper because he genuinely wanted to, or if it was a reflex from him being handed something, but you took it as a good sign anyway.

“Let’s talk. Tonight. Please.”

Silently, Ashton nodded, tucking the paper into his pocket before jogging to catch up to the other boys. You watched him go and then sat back in your chair, fighting back all the overwhelming emotions that were trying to take their place in the front of your mind. Flashes of that night came flooding back with them, your mind becoming a storm cloud of confusing thoughts and twisting tornadoes as you desperately tried to gather yourself together.

After seeing Ashton you barely made it to the end of your shift, one single text from a new number appearing on your phone within an hour after he arrived. He said he would meet you at your place after the interview, you confirming in response with radio silence after that, your anxiety skyrocketing as you drove back home, probably breaking a few traffic laws on the way.

When you got inside you set your things down and immediately started cleaning, tucking away anything that you didn’t want him to see and changing into more casual clothing. No new texts appeared on your phone screen, you desperately keeping an eye on the time as you tugged on an old UCLA shirt. Just as you were smoothing it out against yourself there was a knock, the sound startling you considerably as you hurried over to it.

A quick glance out of the peephole showed Ashton standing there, looking as lovely as ever in your limited view as you unlocked and pulled open your door.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, stepping aside so he could come in. He paused, taking you in before he slowly stepped inside, stopping just inside the doorway to take in your apartment as you closed the door.

Silence enveloped the two of you as you once again resisted the urge to touch him, wanting nothing more than to slide your arms around him and pull him close so you could rest against him again.

You cleared your throat as you moved in front of him, hugging yourself. “Um, would you like something to drink?” You asked, already moving towards the kitchen as he lifted a hand, scratching the back of his neck.

“Just some water would be nice,” he said softly, a nod being his answer as you grabbed a bottle of water from your fridge. You set it on the small table made for just you and sat down, gesturing for him to join you as your knees anxiously knocked together.

More silence fell as you looked at each other, Ashton taking the water as he just looked at you. There was tension in the air, but you couldn’t tell what kind, your fingers locking together in your lap as your thumbs pressed together.

At the same moment you both opened your mouths to speak, chuckles falling from both of your lips as his fingers tapped against the water on the table. You could see the calluses on his fingers and palm as it moved, the man shifting slightly as he faced you.

“You look good,” he said softly, smiling a bit. Your heart melted at the sight. “I, um, I didn’t know you worked and lived here. In LA, I mean.”

You smiled, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, um,” you said just as softly, your hands moving to rest on the table. “I went to UCLA. I actually just graduated from my undergraduate program last month.”

Ashton couldn’t help but beam as you spoke, the light in his eyes igniting something with you. “Wow, that’s amazing, love,” he said sweetly, eyes focused on you. “Congratulations, that’s a huge accomplishment.”

You smiled in thanks, your eyes falling to your hands as you nervously picked at your thumb. “Listen,” you said, clearing your throat a bit. “I wanted to apologize. I, um...I kind of broke your heart a few years ago, and that was really shitty of me.”

Ashton looked at you with sadness in his eyes, one hand reaching to take yours and give it a squeeze. “Sweetheart-”

“Wait,” you pleaded, eyes begging him to let you finish. He looked at you and nodded, keeping your hand in his as he ran a thumb across your knuckles. You took a deep breath before you continued, measuring your words carefully. “I know you’re going to say I have nothing to apologize for, because that’s just who you are. But I’m still wildly in love with you, Ashton.” You licked your lips, your mouth going dry as you pressed on. “I forced myself to finish school and go to uni so I could prove to myself that not running away with you at 16 was the best choice. I constantly tried to run from it, but every empty moment always had me thinking about you, and what our lives would have been like if I had agreed and had that life together like we had wanted.”

You stopped for a second, taking a breath as you felt tears prick your eyes. You swallowed them down, refusing to get emotional.

“I’m not expecting this to magically fix everything,” you said softly, your free hand resting on top of his. “I know I broke your heart and your trust, and I know I may never win either of those back, but I want a fresh start. I at least want to be friends, cause I can’t seem to escape you.”

Your final words made Ashton chuckle, the man tugging on your hand as he stood up. Confused, you met his eyes, his head tilting slightly as he indicated for you to stand with him. You did so, his arms guiding yours around his neck as his own slid around your waist, the man pulling you in for a tight hug.

The gesture brought more tears to your eyes, you fighting to hold them back until you lost, the scent of him filling your lungs just like it used to as teenagers and sending you over the edge. Your shoulders shook as you silently cried against his shoulder, his arms tightening around you as his lips moved to your ear.

“Let it out, love, it’s okay.”

His encouragement over your emotions brought you to gripping his shirt, arms locked around his neck as he carefully squatted and picked you up, wrapping your legs around him as he moved to sit on the couch, you crying in his lap as he settled back against the cushions.

It felt like hours had gone by before you calmed down, your tears staining his shirt as you finally pulled back. Ashton smiled at you sweetly, lips pulled back in his classic look as his thumbs gently brushed away your tears.

“Everything you said,” he said softly, eyes meeting yours. Now that your walls were down he finally could read you again, soaking in every ounce of you as he spoke. “I’ve felt the same. I’ve tried to find you in other people, other relationships, and it never worked out, each person just taking something from me that didn’t belong to them. I tried drowning my emotions and it only made things that much worse.” His own eyes filled with tears as he fought them back, still smiling as he pressed a kiss over your tear stained cheek. “But being here, just seeing you behind that desk...I never lost my love for you, y/n. Never.”

Sniffling, you took in his words, awestruck that the man holding your face in his hands still loved you after years of no communication. Your mind tried to make sense of it as his lips kissed your other cheek, your hands burying themselves in his shirt as his hands moved to your waist.

“Can we start over then?” You asked, your voice thick still from the tears. “I know we can’t pretend that life hasn’t happened, and we can’t go back in time and erase the past, but I want to start over with you. I want to start over with us.”

He silently nodded, squeezing your sides gently. “Of course we can. I would love that.”

Sighing in relief you sank against his chest, his hands moving to rub circles in your back as you buried yourself against him.

“This isn’t as good as running away together,” he said softly, the words pulling a laugh from you. “But this is the next best thing.”

“Oh shut up,” you teased, lightly swatting at his chest as you sat up again. He grinned, the expression making you laugh a bit again as you wiped at your face, sniffling as you set your hands in the space between the two of you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the world outside of your small apartment waiting for you both to move on, move forward, while you both sat in place, breathing each other in and enjoying it. You only moved when Ashton’s phone dinged, a text from one of his friends pulling his attention away.

He sighed, typing a response before he gently lifted your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm as he gingerly held your wrist between two fingers. “I have to go,” he said quietly, kissing your fingers. “Can I take you on a date this week? Maybe on Saturday night?”

You nodded silently, a smile tugging on your lips as he closed the gap between you, his hands moving to your hips as his lips connected with yours.

The familiar feeling was sweet and gentle, lined with desperation and need as you kissed him. Your fingers tangled in his hair again, the curls resting between your fingers as you pulled yourself closer to him, his lips parting slightly as he pulled away. Both of you were breathless and smiling, Ashton gently patting your hip as you climbed off of him reluctantly.

You walked him to the door, his hands sliding around you as he kissed you over and over again, peppering them all over your face before landing on your lips one more time. You said your goodbyes between kisses, Ashton promising over and over to take you on the best date ever until you had to force him out the door, not wanting him to be late to whatever it was he had to do as he smiled at you.

As you were closing the door he said your name again, your head poking out as he smiled at you.

“I love you,” he said simply, putting his hands in his pockets as he spoke.

You blushed, the pink tint bright against your skin as you leaned out the door, a small smile tugging at your lips as you internally melted over him.

“I love you too.”

#5 seconds of summer #5sos #ashton irwin #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin fanfiction #5sos fanfiction #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #blurbs.ai

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

FIC: Colors, ch.25: Iris

(A Spicyhoney ‘The Village’ AU)

The story so far:

8. Whiteout | 9. Sable | 10. Blue on Black | 11. Midnight | 12. Ebony Falling

23. Gray | 24. Vellum

~~*~~

Read ‘ Iris ’ on AO3

Read More Here!

~~*~~

Rus had no idea of the hour when he woke. He rolled over stiffly, his bones chilled and achy from sleeping curled up on the floor. It couldn’t yet be dawn, the only light from the walls came from along the lowest section, a dim, warming glow, like coals banked in a stove for the night.

He sank down, letting his head fall back on a cushion that was normally for sitting and while it certainly worked as fine a pillow for his coccyx, his skull was less enthused with purposing it for a night. He wondered dismally if Edge were still abed, curled up sleeping comfortably warm in the furs and blankets of their pallet. Rus thought it more likely Edge was just as restless as he was, tossing and turning and missing the comfort of holding a loving spouse in his arms.

With a little poor sleep and distance from their argument, Rus was starting to regret his impulse to stay the night in here. After thoughtlessly dredging up Edge’s memories of his lost family, it was passing cruel to deny him what little he did have. As much as Rus desperately missed his brother, he was at least alive and well, kept safe by his status as healer.

Rus looked up at the scattering of stars across the cave ceiling, painted so carefully he could hardly distinguish them from the ones in the sky. Edge was wrong about the village, and about Blue, but sulking alone wouldn’t solve that.

Decision made, Rus scrambled to his feet, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders against the chill as he followed the overhead path of stars to their bedroom. His bare feet scuffed against the floor rugs as he shuffled along. The cloak he’d tacked up while the Dogs stayed as guests was still hanging in the doorway and Rus drew it aside, slipping into the room to head for their pallet.

Only to gasp and stagger back, his shoulder banging painfully against the wall at the crimson eyed figure that abruptly loomed over him, their hands wreathed in flame. For a brief moment, fear overwhelmed his good sense and he nearly fled, a shriek blossoming in his throat.

Then logic reasserted himself and that scream became a gasp of, “edge?”

He watched his husband blink in the dimness, his eye lights winking in and out, then he hastily shook away whatever spell he was calling up, reaching out to take hold of Rus with hands that were still overly warm and yanking him into a tight embrace. The sound that escaped him was rough and anguished as he rattled out, “Sorry, so sorry, k’uhah, my soul, sorry—"

“hush,” Rus soothed, “i’m the one who’s sorry, i didn’t mean to startled you so.” He held Edge close, petting the smooth curve of his skull with gentle fingers. He was shaking a bit, Rus realized distantly, but it was nothing compared to Edge. His husband was trembling so fiercely Rus could hear the rattle of his bones muffled against the blanket between them

“Sorry,” Edge mumbled again. He rubbed his cheekbone against Rus’s collarbone up to his shoulder, absurdly reminding him of one of the stray cats that often roamed the village. “I was not myself. My dreams were troubled ones.”

Of course they would be, Rus thought, tears springing into his sockets. He’d had an abrupt and unpleasant reminder of the horrible loss of his family when he’d only been a child and then his husband abandoned him to deal with the haunting memory on his own.

No matter, he could deal with his own regrets later. For now, Edge needed him and with gentle tugs, Rus persuaded him towards the bed, leading in a strange sort of dance until they could sink into the furs together. Edge curled up tightly into Rus’s side as Rus soothed him with gentle touches, smoothing a hand down his spine, the other cupping his cheek bone in featherlight strokes until his shivering slowly subsided.

Perhaps he should have expected Edge’s hands to begin wandering on their own, but Rus was still bemused as his touches became less ones of soothing and turned to the urgently carnal. But he offered no protests as the clothing and blankets between them were tugged away, moaning his delight as Edge explored his most sensitive places with barely restrained need. If this was what his husband needed to chase the ghosts from the dark corners of his mind, Rus was eager to give it.

Those stroking fingers left off their fondling of his ribs and spine, gliding down to his pelvis and there his hand lingered, coaxing and shaping and Rus understood even before Edge nuzzled against the side of his skull, murmuring hoarsely, “Need you, be with me? Inside me?”

Even as burgeoning desire clouded over him, Rus managed to clear his thoughts, concentrating hard so that he might give Edge the shaft he’d wanted. It was easier than before, his need to care for his husband guiding his desire and he gasped as the shaft settled into place at his pelvis. Almost immediately a hand surrounded it, stroking him from tip to root and Rus was forced to grab Edge’s demanding hand, stilling him.

“wait,” Rus gasped out. “wait, i’ll spill too fast.” He tried to catch his breath, slow the roused pulse of his soul and his efforts were not at all helped by Edge’s hips grinding against his thigh, the wetness of his mound rubbing slick against his femur.

“Need you,” Edge moaned out, “k’uhah, Rus, need you!”

There was nothing for it. Rus pawed at Edge, pulling on him roughly until he settled astride him. Through the dimness, he watched as his husband sank down on his shaft, the twisting pleasure on his face a mirror to his own.

“oh!” Rus cried out, grappling at Edge’s hips. “oh, please! oh!” Tight slickness engulfed him, slick walls gripping as Edge rode him, chasing his pleasure as he muttered out words in his own tongue that were either too fast for Rus to grasp or simple nonsense. Rus could do nothing but endure, pinned by Edge’s weight and clinging to whatever shreds of control he still possessed to keep the folly of his sudden ecstasy at bay.

His end still came with shameful swiftness, straining against his husband’s weight as he ground down on him, taking Rus deeply into the glorious tightness of his body. Rus couldn’t think any longer, could only follow his own clumsy eagerness, blindly wanting, needing, and the cry that strangled out of him when he tipped over his peak was muffled into a choked groan into Edge’s mouth, the plunge of his tongue inside mimicking that of his shaft.

He sagged back, breathing harshly and mortified at leaving Edge wanting. Only Edge was shuddered over him, his hand working between his own legs, fingers grazing where they were still joined. Rus pulled him down into another kiss, urging him on, his moans broken with arousal. When Edge stiffened, sockets squeezing closed as he toppled into his own pleasure, Rus held him gently, hardly grunting at the suddenness of his weight sagging down atop him.

The burden was not for long. Edge managed to slide off to the side quickly enough, leaving a single leg slung over Rus’s, an arm draped over his ribcage, holding him close as pleasant quivers still trembled through them.

The restless night joined with the exhaustion of exertion and sleep was trying to claim Rus, pulling him into yet another embrace. He struggled against it, wishing to stay in Edge’s arms some longer and sleepily, Rus murmured, “I love you.”

“Love you,” Edge returned with equal tiredness. “Love you, Rus. K’uhah

They were a mess, shared fluids drying on their bones in uncomfortable places and Rus did not care. He held his husband close and when he did finally give in to sleep’s persistent claim, it was without dreams to haunt him.

~~*~~

When next he woke, Rus noted with bleary confusion that he was alone. That wasn’t entirely uncommon, Edge often let him sleep while he went out to check the traps, but after last night, it was particularly disappointing. He’d rather hoped to wake in Edge’s arms and surely after a row of the sort they’d had, that was the best-chosen path or at least that was what he gleaned from watching Blue and Azzy’s spats and their layabout ways the day after.

He supposed he could hardly blame Edge for being unfamiliar with that sort of mutual contrition.

There was hardly time to feel the pinch of unhappiness when the curtain over the door was pulled aside and Edge ducked beneath it, bare as the day he was born and holding two steaming cups.

Ah. Well, it seemed Edge wasn’t as eager to get to his traps as Rus assumed and a hot flushed crawled up his face, burning high in his cheekbones as he tried not to look at the faint honey-orange stains that still decorated the insides of Edge’s femurs.

His husband was utterly without shame and the thought was a fond one, swelling along with the love in Rus’s soul. So unlike anyone in the village, unlike Rus himself, and that was a less appealing reminder of all he’d recently learned. It was still so difficult to reconcile his new knowledge about the village Elders, the uncertain loss of everything he’d been taught since childhood filled him with a strange grief.

Every prayer meeting he’d attended, every rote recitation from the pages of the Book of Prayers were a deception whether or not those that taught him knew it.

The loss was one he’d simply have to learn to deal with and a renewed determination to meet with his brother, to share the truths he’d learned, surged in him, filling that void of left by grief.

Rus reached automatically for one of the cups Edge held, absently anticipating the bland, thin taste of slippery elm tea. Only to blink in confusion as it was held out of his reach. Realization came with the rueful smile Edge offered him before he drank it himself and Rus didn’t need either of their languages to interpret it. This time it was his husband’s turn for due diligence against creating a child and Rus returned that smile with a sheepish grin of his own even as he recalled the toe-curling memory. He chose the other cup and nearly choked, swallowing down an unexpected mouthful of slippery elm.

What in the name of the Angel…the way Edge’s smile slowly widened into a more predatory one revealed that it was not at all the will of the Angel on his husband’s mind. Hastily, Rus tossed back the contents of the cup, swallowing it down with a grimace, barely in time for it to be snatched away as he was tumbled back into the blankets.

His laughter briefly echoed around the room quickly replaced with moans.

This, he decided hazily, was the best way to make a proper apology and as Edge slid down between his legs, Rus arched into his touch, eager to join him on the path to forgiveness.

~~*~~

Time was difficult to discern without windows, but the sun was high in the sky when Edge finally left their cave. Rus stood by the entryway, still buried into the depths of a blanket and the chill of the floor had him hopping from foot to foot, hissing unhappily as he offered a last kiss to Edge before he left.

He stayed only long enough to see his husband off before darting back inside and soon enough the inner warmth was enough for him to shed his blanket. He folded it with a sigh, heading back to set it within the parlor room. They might be off to a late start for the day, but there was still cleaning to be done and dinner to consider.

When he stepped into the parlor, Rus paused, catching sight of the journal still on the table. The locket from Edge’s medicine bag was sitting next to it and Rus picked it up, running his fingers over the delicate shape as he thought of the woman whose portrait it contained.

Selfishly, he wondered if Edge’s mother would have liked him if they’d had the chance to meet. He hoped so.

It was such an awful that her story was unknown in the village, Rus thought unhappily. That all the suffering she’d enduring and the sacrifices she’d made to discover the truth were concealed only in the mind of her son and now in Rus’s, her words crying out from the very pages for vengeance, both for herself and their people.

A misbegotten injustice, that was it, the forced degradation of their people by the Humans who greedily took and took, stealing any magic they found useful and doing the same to their bodies, like Elder Smith did time and again, and Rus only realized he was clutching the pendant tightly in his fist when the pain of it cutting into his bones registered. He forced his hand to unclench and gently set the locket down on the journal, smoothing the broken chain along the cover. The others in the village needed to know all of this, his brother, Dogamy and his kin, it simply must be, if only there was a way—

Rus straightened abruptly, dawning awareness striking him.

There was a way, he realized. He had the map Edge gave him and the compass from his pack. The village couldn’t be more than a day’s travel away or Edge wouldn’t have suggested he visit the cave. If he left early when Edge went to check his traps, he could be back by sunset, a reverse of his earlier trips to the woods to visit Edge. He could travel to Dogamy’s farm and surely they would send for his brother, giving him enough time to reassure Blue that he was doing well and to give him the journal before he traveled back…right into his husband’s anger.

Edge would forgive him, Rus told himself fiercely. Their bond was deeper than one of the mere spoken words of marriage, they were bound by their souls, and yes, it would be difficult, yes, Edge might well be furious for some time. But Rus could endure it, do whatever he needed to earn his husband, no, his k’uhah’s forgiveness.

In truth, it was no longer simply his own wish to see his brother at stake and a strange urgency was rising within him, demanding that he go as soon as possible.

He needed to do this.

Hastily, Rus snatched up the journal and locket both, carrying them back to the bedroom. He hid them in the small alcove that wardrobe, beneath the stack of his trousers. He wouldn’t lie if Edge asked after them, but if he saw them lying about, Edge might move them to a place Rus couldn’t find. With them hidden, perhaps he would forget for a time, long enough for Rus to sneak away with them.

That done, Rus hurried off to the kitchen, his soul throbbing agitatedly in his rib cage. Plans needed to be made yet, but for now, it would be best to follow his normal routine.

He filled one of the crocks with water and set it on cooking stone, contemplating the contents of their pantry as he mentally sorted through the few recipes he’d learned. Perhaps he’d ask after some of Blue’s cookies, he told himself, both for a recipe and to bring some back to Edge; he’d enjoyed them very much the last time Rus brought them to the woods. A present might help smooth the rough path of forgiveness, even a tiny bit.

With that thought, Rus began humming a quiet song, choosing his ingredients with care. A good dinner, tonight, yes, that was what they needed, and perhaps they could read a bit from that saucy novel again or even indulge in a little more of their own sauciness tonight.

He didn’t allow himself to think of anything else.

Not yet.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #village au

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autisticdindjarin · 4 years

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Seeking Sanctuary

Chapter Two: Family

(AO3)

Summary: 19 years after Chapter 16, Din and Grogu find themselves on the run again. They stop at a familiar sanctuary. Rating: T Pairing: Din Djarin x Omera Warnings: Mentions of trauma Notes: For Mandomera Week! Prompt: Family. It’s been a very long time since I’ve updated a fic two days in a row and I’m loving it.

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The first week in Sorgan had been filled with a bounty of relaxation and sleep and a domesticity that felt unfamiliar to Din.

Grogu adjusted well to it, and Din supposed it was some semblance of what it’d been like for him at the Jedi Temple. Routine and warm meals and shared laughter that reminded Din - just faintly, a fading ripple of memory - of his own childhood on Aq Vetina.

The best part of the days here were always at the end, when they all came together. Winta’s wife, Vinita, joined them from working as the village’s only schoolteacher, and they gathered around the small fireplace that exuded warmth and peace almost as well as Omera’s family did.

Somehow he always found himself sitting next to Lori, who had been trailing him like a loth-cat after a yarn ball. Grogu had made his own seat claimed next to Winta and Vinita, who both adored the adolescent humor that Din had trouble keeping up with. He’d roll his eyes under his helmet but it still warmed his heart to see them all like this. Happy. Serene. Family.

Omera sat on the opposite side of him on the long couch directly in front of the fire. Lori had tired herself out with rambling some time ago, and Din had been amused to find she’d fallen asleep nestled up against his beskar, which stars, that couldn’t be comfortable.

He hesitated after a good half hour of her resting there, not wanting to wake her, but he carefully managed to tug his cape out from under his shoulder, bunching it up to prop her head against it. Lori mumbled something in her sleep. Din smiled, a hand reaching to brush wayward wild hair out of her face. It looked much like Winta’s.

“You’re good with her,” came Omera’s warm voice. Din paused then peered over at her.

“I don’t know about that. She’s just easily entertained,” he shrugged, his voice low; he was well aware of the sleeping child propped against his side.

“You’ll want to wash that cape later - she drools in her sleep,” Winta teased from across the room, making Grogu giggle around the cookie he was eating.

Din wasn’t sure how Omera had any food left at this point - his son was due for another growth spurt. He was small, yes, but the amounts he’d been devouring lately made Din’s own stomach ache.

“It’s seen worse,” he snorted, making Grogu laugh more.

Din glanced over and caught Omera’s spaced out stare on him. He frowned, shifting - not squirming - where he sat.

“You okay?” he asked, voice just right for only her to catch. She blinked and shook her head, smiling.

“Yes. I got lost in thought there,” she admitted. Her hand moved up to squeeze his upper arm, right under the left pauldron. She had often gifted him with small touches like that since he and Grogu had arrived once again on her doorstep. Goosebumps shivered across his hidden skin every time. He wasn’t complaining about it.

As conversation began to die down and the sun set and settled over the forested Sorgan horizon, Vinita gathered Lori carefully up from Din’s side.

“Thank you, Mando. She never falls asleep so easily for us,” she chuckled and shook her head. Din shrugged.

“I think she just wears herself out with all the questions,” he answered.

“Ah, I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not one to deny a child curiosity,” she grinned. Winta stepped beside her, running a hand over the surface of Lori’s hair and pressing a soft kiss to her wife’s cheek.

“Night all,” she said cheerfully, her eyes shining, and Din could see how truly happy she was.

Grogu tilted his head to the side where he still perched upon a smaller chair that Lori had shared with him.

He noticed everything.

Sometimes that was a good thing. Sometimes it left Din feeling annoyed, having to explain last night that no, Omera certainly didn’t look at him like he was the last cookie, where did Grogu even come up with these things.

But eventually, Grogu toddled off to bed, leaving Omera and Din alone, a fact which hit Din like a freighter in an asteroid field.

“You’re tense. Is your leg hurting?” Omera asked. Din huffed out a sound of laughter.

“No, I just - I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. He twisted the drooled covered end of his cape on his lap. “Your family is nice.” The afterthought came too quick, and he felt stupid once he said it, bumbling and nervous.

Omera chuckled.

“So is yours, you know.”

He paused at that.

Sure, Grogu was his son, they were family, a clan, but he had never heard the word nice to describe their unconventional familial ties. More often, the impressions he got were strange, or curious, or bewildered. Not nice. Certainly not anything near resembling normal.

“He’s … something,” Din said with wry amusement. “Everything, really,” he clarified. His eyes drifted and he lost his thoughts in the fireplace.

Omera leaned up against his side and steadily ripped him from his quiet musings. He took a breath, very aware of how warm she felt through his flight suit. His nerves rattled into a tangle of chaos inside his head; he willed himself not to tense. He didn’t want to discourage … this. Whatever this was.

Instead, his arm raised and slid over her shoulders and brought her closer and he felt like he had slipped into the middle of a very pleasant spice dream.

She relaxed further into his hold, and Din felt something in his chest give, something that had ached inside of him for a very long time.

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Mornings almost always came bright on Sorgan. This one made a harsh exception. Thunder rumbled through the whole hut - were the walls shaking? Din sat upright, jerked out of his peaceful warm slumber. Rain cascaded down in sheets against the thatched roof. A leak had begun right in front of the burnt out fireplace, water coming down in a steady and persistent drip drip drip.

Omera stirred beside him. Had they …. ? They had. They’d fallen asleep cuddled on the couch like a pair of partied out teenagers. Din held back a yawn, carding a gloved hand through her hair.

“It’s okay. Storm,” he said, still groggy with sleep. Omera hummed, tucking her head against his side. It was almost relaxing, until another sharp smack of thunder hit them. That was entirely too close to the hut for comfort.

Grogu dashed out of the bedroom before Din had time to think, big eyes finding him. Din could see the fear in them.

“Hey,” he said, gently disentangling himself from Omera and standing up, his shoulders strained and aching from the less than ideal sleeping position. Grogu trembled. Din had never seen him like this, and he immediately went forwards. He scooped his son up against his chest. Omera had come up behind him and placed her hand on the middle of Din’s back.

“What’s wrong? You okay, kid?” Din asked, his concern weighing heavy now. Grogu’s ears drooped. His small three fingered hands found the sides of Din’s helmet. Din leaned forwards so that his helmet touched Grogu’s forehead.

“The temple. A … A dream, I had.” The smaller than usual voice explained.

A nightmare, then.

Din hummed sympathetically. Those same images had haunted him the past week they’d been here. It surprised him that it hadn’t hit Grogu sooner, though he had noted his sons tossing and turning during the nights.

“I think I’ll make us some tea,” Omera spoke, her interjection quiet. Din nodded.

“Thank you. I - We’ll be in the room,” he told her. She gave him a little smile and nodded back before making her way to the kitchen.

Grogu clung to Din, and he brought him into the little bedroom. He sat down, putting Grogu to his side.

They sat in simple silence. Din remained patient, waiting. Finally Grogu spoke.

“You died.”

Din tilted his helmet over him at the words, before moving to slip it off. Fresh air hit his face and he ran a hand down it, grimacing at the feel of facial hair he hadn’t taken a chance to groom in over a week. But his eyes found Grogu’s.

“I didn’t,” he said. Simple, but true.

“The edge of death, you stood on. Better, I could have done. Sorry,” his son whispered, grief evident in his eyes. Din leaned over, rubbing Grogu’s small back.

“Hey, no. You saved me, and exhausted yourself doing it too. Don’t be- Don’t be sorry,” Din said, trying to wrap his head around what Grogu was feeling. “I’d do it again, kid. I’d do it a thousand times.”

“No,” Grogu said, voice sharp and loud and startling Din. He raised his eyebrows over towards his very frustrated, scared looking son.

“Family. You’re my family. My only, now,” Grogu said, quieter than before, with his ears nearly reaching down to his lap. His shoulders slumped along with them, sad and forlorn. Din squeezed his shoulder.

“That’s what families do. What a clan does. We protect each other, okay? I, in fact, like protecting you. I like seeing you alive and well. And happy, if I can,” the words spilled out of Din, more than he was used to at one time, especially so early in the morning.

“My Jedi family … gone,” Grogu said, mournful, and Din’s heart twisted.

“I would have protected them too, if I could have,” he said quietly. Grogu’s little laugh made his brow furrow.

“Protect you would, yes. Always. A father, you are. By blood not, but by soul, yes.”

The little words of wisdom coming from the teenage Jedi had Din turning his head away, suppressing the deep emotion that slammed into him. His fingers traced over the top of Grogu’s head, down to the tip of one ear. He tugged at it, with a hint of playfulness.

“Well. Someone had to do it.”

Grogu’s face buried hard into his side and wrapped Din in a tight little hug. Din took a deep breath and ran his hand over the kid’s back, trying to comfort him in some way.

“We’ll figure it out. Just … we’ll keep going, okay?”

Grogu nodded against his side. His breathing had evened out now, but he sounded more tired than when he first woke up. Grogu jumped as thunder clapped again, this time further away; the storm was settling down now, with a peaceful splatter of slow rain replacing it. Din held him closer.

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

Grogu eventually fell back to sleep, and Din tucked him in. He held his hand back from running across Grogu’s small, vulnerable looking face before he slipped his helmet back on. The smell of tea hit him as he left the room. Winta and Vinita looked at him as he stepped out of the small bedroom. They lounged across the ouch Din and Omera had fallen asleep on last night. Din nodded at them. Vinita beamed, concerningly bright and bubbly every morning. Meanwhile, Winta looked her usual morning sour. Din smiled and walked into the kitchen.

Omera sat at the table with an empty cup in front of her. Two other cups - full - sat at the side.

“He fell back asleep.” The chair scraped across the floor and Din sat down. He noticed the frame of it creaking at his weight, seeming loud with the eerie dawn backdropped by rain. Omera nodded.

“I was going to bring it in to you, but I heard some serious conversation going on. I didn’t want to interrupt. I wasn’t sure if you had your helmet on,” she said.

“I didn’t.” Din looked over at the tea in front of him, calculating.

“You can take it into the room, I don’t expect you to drink it out here,” Omera said quickly.

“It’s fine,” Din shrugged, and he lifted his helmet just enough for a long draw of the perfectly not-too-cold and not-too-hot tea. He didn’t miss Omera’s sharp intake of breath, and he could see her turning her face away through the awkwardly tilted angle of his visor.

He sat the tea down, having drunk half of it swiftly. A pleasant warmth bloomed through his torso.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he muttered. He pulled the helmet back down. Omera turned to him with a befuddled gaze. Her bottom lip jutted out in a frown and it was kind of adorable. Din cleared his throat and tapped his fingers over the surface of the table.

“You - you didn’t, I was trying to avoid the opposite,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Is that … Was that allowed?”

Din hesitated.

“It’s complicated.”

“Like what brought you here?” she mused, eyes meeting his, a glint of teasing in them. Din smiled.

“Two different kinds of complicated.”

Omera laughed again. He wanted to keep hearing that sound forever. He leaned forward some, sighing.

“You can stay here for … for as long as you need, you know. We’re happy to have you here again, with more than a barn to offer for lodging.”

“We won’t overstay our welcome,” Din said, almost in a questioning voice..

“You couldn’t. Not here. We like you here. Winta sees Grogu as her long lost brother, you know. And Lori has become very attached.”

Din sighed, his gaze meeting hers again, this time holding it.

“And what about you?”

Omera’s cheeks darkened, flustered, but her hand moved across the table. Her fingertips brushed excruciatingly lightly against his.

“What about me?” she asked. Her voice smiled.

“What do you see me - us,” he corrected himself swiftly, “as?”

Omera peered at him, a sincere look in her eyes that read somehow sad and happy at the same time.

“Mando, you’re like family.”

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@mandomeraweek

#mandomera #din djarin #the mandalorian #omera #MandomeraWeek2021 #myfic #mine

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soobiniebaby · 4 years

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Angels & Devils Part XI : I’m Yours, You’re Mine

A n g e l s & D e v i l s || Tomorrow x Together Fanfiction

~ p a r t s : main post || prologue || 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 ~ p a i r i n g : love triangle involving choi soobin and choi yeonjun ~ g e n r e : high school au | some social media au | some fluff & angst | childhood friends | love triangle ~ l a n g u a g e : English ~ w a r n i n g : contains swearing, alcohol, kissing (?) and may contain mature themes (angst, etc.) ~ a / n : This will be my first fanfic (go easy on me pls) and i’m just writing this as I go along, so bear with me juseyo The setting (place/country) of the story is up to the reader’s interpretation ~ s u m m a r y : What should she choose? Han Baby: the new girl with a troubled past MO Academy: her new high school Choi Soobin: student council president, member of the Ecosave club, volunteer at the Humane Treatment of Animals, member of the Honor Society, a vocalist in the Jazzed club, the school’s all around golden boy Choi Yeonjun: leader of the Dance club, star of the Jazzed club, the school’s it boy with a bad rep 5 best friends, 1 new girl, 1 childhood friendship, 1 epic love triangle? What will this school year bring?

Over the weekend, B and Kai had spent most of their time lounging around the living room, finishing the entire season of It’s Okay to Not Be Okay on Netflix on Saturday and having a movie marathon on Sunday. They ordered all their meals and had all the food they wanted delivered to the apartment, their food cravings ranging from donuts and milk tea to egg tarts and mint chocolate ice cream. It felt like one of the many sleepovers they used to have when they were kids, only now it was just the 2 of them in a place of their own, without nosy siblings or strict parents to bother them or tell them what they could or couldn’t do.

Other than stuffing their faces with food and drowning their emotions in Netflix, they finally had all the time in the world to do all the catching up that they hadn’t been able to, asking questions and telling stories about what they had missed out on each other’s lives through the years.

“First kiss?” B asks.

“Oh, I think I was in the 7th grade, and it was with Im Yeojin. You?”

“Lucas Wong. A couple of years ago.” B responds.

Kai shakes his head. “That guy was your first kiss ever? Lucas? Your ex?”

B nods. “The one and only. Next question please?”

“Alright, worst ex?” Kai asks intentionally.

“Ningning, you know I’ve only had 1 boyfriend.”

“Yes, and he was the worst! He had the audacity to cheat on you! And all because you wouldn’t ‘put out?’ He's lucky I lived 3 hours away or else I would’ve kicked his ass.” Kai says, huffing.

B laughs, trying to swallow down the lump in her throat that formed whenever she talked about her horrible ex boyfriend. There was so much more to their relationship than him cheating on her cause she wouldn’t put out, but she wasn’t ready to let her best friend know all about it just yet. “Thanks, but judging by the size of his biceps, I don’t think that could’ve ever happened anyway.”

Kai pouts. “Are you saying I should start going to the gym?”

B laughs at him dismissively before changing the subject.

Also, sharing a living space with another person was also a bit of an adjustment for B since she had already gotten used to living alone. Her apartment only had one bathroom which she now shared with Kai, and now she had to keep all her personal toiletries set aside and her feminine hygiene products kept away, not wanting a repeat of the horrifying moment when her best friend walked out of the bathroom with his face all red.

“What happened to you?” she had asked, noticing how flushed he looked after being in the bathroom for 20 minutes.

“You know that when I’m, um, taking a shit I like to read the back of labels of whatever I see in the bathroom, right?” Kai starts slowly.

“Okay, weird, but go on.”

He takes a big gulp before continuing. “Well, let’s just say I now know how to properly put on a tampon. And let me just say, I’m glad I wasn’t born a woman.”

After that incident, B made sure to keep all feminine hygiene products hidden away in the bathroom cabinets. She ensured to leave a stack of random books and magazines on the bathroom counters so Kai would have something to read when doing his business. Other than that, B also had to remind herself that it was no longer socially acceptable to walk around her apartment in nothing but a tshirt and underwear on, since she had gotten used to roaming the space without worrying about other people seeing what she looked like. She usually went to bed in just a shirt and underwear and roll out of bed and straight into the kitchen for breakfast without a care in the world. Now, she had to double check and make sure that she was wearing bottoms and a bra before stepping out of her bedroom.

Even though there were many things she hadn’t considered before inviting a guy to stay in her apartment, she had to admit that it was nice to have company around. She hadn’t realized how lonely it was to live alone until Kai had come along, and now she was already sort of dreading the day when he’d get better and move out. She was starting to consider finding a room mate before then, knowing that she’d feel lonely once her company had to leave.

Come Monday morning, B woke up feeling excited. She rolled out of bed, put on a pair of shorts, and made her way to the kitchen, only to be surprised by the sight of breakfast already prepared on the table. A plate full of bacon and sunny side up eggs, a bowl full of fresh fruit and cereal, and a glass of blue lemonade were all neatly laid out on the table, and Kai was sitting there with an apron still tied around his waist. When he saw B step out from her room, he immediately greeted her “Wakey wakey Baba, time to go back to school!”

B rubs the sleep from her eyes, making sure she wasn’t just dreaming that Kai had prepared breakfast for her. Once the smell of freshly cooked bacon filled wafted in the air, she immediately brightens up and walks on over to give her best friend a hug.

“Ningning, you did all this for me? Thank you so much!” she says in awe.

“Yup, I wanted to make it special since it’ll be your first day back at MOA today.” Kai says. “Now hurry up before it gets cold. You have to be ready in 40 minutes.”

B all but gobbles up all the food that Kai had prepared for her before jumping into the shower, drying her hair, putting on some make up and changing into her school uniform, making sure she had everything she needed before letting Kai walk her to the front door.

“Have fun, Baba!” Kai says.

“Sure thing. Make sure to keep the door locked and call me if you need anything.” she says, waving goodbye before making her way downstairs to meet Taehyun.

As soon as Taehyun sees her, his eyes visibly light up.

“B! Finally, I’ve missed you so much.” he says, waving hello before stretching his arms out towards her. “Come here!”

B excitedly runs up, preparing to hug Taehyun, until at the last minute he folds his hands across his chest and takes a step back, which stops her in her tracks.

“On second thought, don’t touch me. You may be medically cleared already, but since Hyuka’s staying with you, you might still be carrying the pox.” he says. It’s only then when she notices that he was wearing a face mask and had a small spray bottle of alcohol hanging from his school ID lace.

She smiles at him sheepishly. “I missed you too, you know.” she says, opting to wrap her arms around her own torso instead.

He laughs at her silly antics before following suit, wrapping his arms around himself. “Let’s just pretend that we’re hugging right now.”

B nods. “Alrighty. Thanks, Tyun.”

“Don’t mention it. Now come on, put on your face mask and make sure you have hand sanitizer before we go.” he says, adjusting the mask on his face.

She puts on a mask and puts a small bottle of hand sanitizer in her pocket before they start making their way to school.

“I’ve missed these walks of ours.” B says happily, breathing in the morning air.

“I’ve missed them too. And I’ve missed you. School was a bit boring without you, and walking to school alone just didn’t feel the same.”

“How have things at MOA been, apart from the health protocols? And how are the guys?” B asks.

“Apart from the implementation of health protocols, school has pretty much been the same. The guys miss you. I think they’re excited to see you.” Taehyun responds.

“I miss them too.” B says, sighing. She and Yeonjun had FaceTimed every night through the weekend, but she missed him, and she felt a bit sad that they had to cancel their supposed last date. She had to admit that she missed the other guys too. “What makes you think they’re excited to see me, though?”

“They told me to ask you if you could meet them by the front gate of MOA before classes start this morning.” Taehyun says.

“Oh? They did? Weird, but okay. I wonder why.” B says, trying to think of why they might want to meet up. “How have you been? Has anything in your life changed in the past week?” she asks.

Taehyun shrugs. “Not really, same old same old. Just the usual studying at school and working at the café.” he says. “What about you? How have you been doing?”

B shrugs too, mimicking his response. “I’ve been good, nothing much going on.” she says casually, which was a lie. She wanted to tell him about Yeonjun and about how he asked her out and all the dates he put together, but a part of her was scared about how he’d react, so she thought it would be better to tell him when the time was right.

As she and Taehyun approach the campus, her eyes catch sight of 3 familiar figures standing right outside of the gates, particularly to the head of blue hair.

B feels her heart jump out of her chest, speeding up her walking, and Taehyun runs to catch up to her as she starts waving her arms in the air the closer they got until the 3 boys look up in her direction and they all wave back.

“Seriously, you 3, why aren’t you wearing face masks?” Taehyun says as they meet the 3 boys outside the gate.

“Well good morning to you too, Tyun.” Beomgyu says playfully. “Relax, we’re not within campus grounds so we don’t have to wear masks yet.”

B laughs at their banter. “I think Tyun’s just worried that you’ll catch Kai’s chicken pox germs if you stand too close to me without a mask on.” she jokes. “So, why are we meeting up here outside the gates instead of at the front steps like we usually do?”

“Hey, B! Good to see you again.” Beomgyu says.

“Well, you see, there are new health protocols set in place on campus right now, and as members of the student council, we can never be caught violating any rules set within the school.” Yeonjun begins, smiling at her brightly, like there was a secret that only the 2 of them shared.

“Alright, and…?” B asks, not sure where they were going with this.

“And before we go in and start off another week of school, there’s just this 1 health protocol we’d like to violate.” Beomgyu continues.

“Okay, which one? Is it the face mask thing? Why are we standing outside the school gates?” B asks, still confused.

“So we can do this.” Soobin says, before taking a step towards B with arms outstretched and pulling her into him, his whole body engulfing her in a hug.

He feels time stop the moment his arms wrap themselves around her body, her face buried in his chest, the top of her head inches away from his chin, the smell of her lavender-scented shampoo tickling his nose, his hands resting on the curves in her waist.

When Soobin woke up feeling excited that day, he told himself it was just because he was excited to start a new week of school, but deep down he knew that wasn’t the case.

When the guys suggested that they wait for B outside the school gates so that they could greet her a proper ‘welcome back,’ he felt a flutter in his chest, and he told himself that it was just because he was happy that their group would be complete again (minus Kai), but deep down, he knew he was only fooling himself.

When he and the guys stood outside the school gates waiting for B and Taehyun to arrive, he could feel his heart start to beat even faster in anticipation, and he told himself it was just because he was looking forward to see their friend again after a whole week, but he knew there was more to it than that.

When he saw her waving her arms in the air and walking towards them, he felt his breath catch in his throat, and he told himself it was just because he was surprised to see her looking so radiant and healthy knowing how badly sick she was, but he knew it was because of how he was just now realizing how beautiful she really was.

When he took a step towards her and engulfed her delicate figure in his arms, feeling the warmth of her body against his, a feeling washed over him unlike anything he’s experienced before, as if by having her in his arms everything in the world was finally falling into place and the pounding in his chest and the flutter of butterfly wings in his stomach finally made sense, and it was at that moment he knew with absolute certainty just what it was.

It was her. It was B.

He didn’t know how it came to be, or why exactly it happened, but all he knew was that it was her.

It was him realizing that he was falling in love with her.

And the feeling hit him so suddenly with such clarity that for a moment, it felt like the whole world stood still, as his breath seemed to catch in his throat and time seemed to stop as he held her in his arms, savoring the moment and all the emotions that were hitting him all at once.

She lets out a surprised squeal as Soobin pulls her in, only to be muffled by her face being buried in his chest as they embrace.

“Soobinie!” she says, laughing in surprise. “I missed you too.”

Soobin smiles to himself, tempted to rest his chin on her head, but he was aware of the presence of their friends, so he slowly lets her go, his eyes meeting Taehyun’s as he does, and Taehyun’s expression quickly changes as he realizes what was happening.

Taehyun raises his brows in question, and Soobin gives him a quick and discreet nod in response, to which Taehyun shakes his head.

Soobin keeps his head down to conceal the blush creeping into his face as B steps away and Beomgyu tackles her into a hug.

“We missed you so much! I wish I could’ve gotten an excuse to skip school for a week too, though.” Beomgyu says slyly.

“Hey, I did not skip school! I called you everyday to listen in on lectures, remember?” B says defensively, hitting Beomgyu’s chest. “If you wanna stay at home so bad, maybe you should come over to my place. I’m sure Hyuka would gladly give you a big hug, along with the chicken pox of course.”

Beomgyu steps away and holds his hands up in the air in front of him. “No way, I don’t want chicken pox. I’d rather endure school than have hideous spots all over my body.”

B looks at him offended. “You think I have hideous spots all over my body?” she says through gritted teeth.

“Oh, now you’ve done it, Gyu.” Taehyun says, watching as Beomgyu runs away from B to hide behind him. “Don’t worry B, I’ll help you kidnap him after school. I think Hyuka would like to have an extra playmate.”

“I never said that!” Beomgyu cries, running from Taehyun to Yeonjun now, hiding behind the blue haired boy. “B, you look beautiful as always. If anything, the spots just accentuate your beauty.” he says desperately.

B scoffs. “Oh shut up. You’re lucky I like you, or else I would’ve slapped you so hard that the spots would transfer from my skin to yours.”

Yeonjun laughs, shielding Beomgyu behind him. “Wow, I never pegged you to be violent.” he says.

B shrugs. “I’m not. I’m just saying, I could slap someone if I wanted to.”

Yeonjun shakes his head, pulling her into his arms. “Welcome back, Baby.” he whispers in her ear, giving her a quick peck on the cheek and slowly stroking the small of her back, making sure that the other boys don’t see, before letting her go.

Once she pulls away, her face is noticeably red, and Yeonjun can’t help but laugh. God, she looked adorable. He gives her a quick wink before saying “And now that that’s settled, shall we head to class?”

The 3 boys put on their facemasks and let B lead the way into the school gates, each of them having their body temperatures checked and their hands disinfected before walking through the gates.

As B walks ahead of the boys, the 4 boys pair off.

Beomgyu slings an arm around Yeonjun’s shoulders, keeping his voice low as he says “So now that’s she’s back, will you guys have the talk now?”

“What talk?” Yeonjun asks.

“The talk? The relationship talk. You know, the talk about your feelings and where you guys stand and what your label is and stuff like that.” Beomgyu says knowingly. “If the 2 of you don’t want to put a label on whatever it is you 2 are, then you should at least let the other guys know that you’re dating.”

Yeonjun shrugs. “Don’t worry, Gyu. I’ve got it all planned out, you’ll see. I’ve been planning this for days now, but considering that we’re at school, I’ll have to make do. At the end of the day, we might even let you guys know about us.” he responds, his eyes glued to the girl in front of them, which automatically puts a smile on his face. “I’m gonna make that girl mine.”

Meanwhile, Taehyun attempts to sling his arm around Soobin’s shoulders, but with the other boy being much taller and walking a bit faster, he settled for interlocking his arm around Soobin’s instead.

“Oh, hey Tyun.” Soobin says, surprised by the sudden lock on his arm. “What’s up?”

“’What’s up?’” Taehyun says, mimicking him. “You tell me. All your questions about falling in love and stuff…were they about B? Is it her? Are you in love with—”

Soobin cuts him off. “Shhh, the other guys might hear you!” he says, hurriedly looking around and seeing that no one was within ear shot. “Yes, it’s about her. Let’s talk about this later, okay? Alone.”

Taehyun sighs. “Fine, but wow, I should’ve known. I had a feeling it was her. You 2 would make a great couple.” he says teasingly.

“Oh shut up, you know-it-all.” Soobin says, flustered. “I’m sure you would’ve figured it out sooner or later anyway, you’re too damn smart, you know?”

Taehyun laughs. “It doesn’t take a genius to see that you’ve got it bad, Binnie.” he says. “Let’s talk about it soon, okay? Just hang in there.”

Soobin sighs, his eyes focus on the girl walking in front of them. “Trust me, I’m trying.”

•°•

B had to admit that Yeonjun’s sudden request had her heart fluttering, but more than anything it got her head buzzing with curiosity. Within 5 minutes she had excused herself from class, 3rd period biology which she didn’t share with any of the guys, and she was on her way to the student council room, which she had only been to once before with Soobin and Yeonjun. Technically, she was cutting class, but a few minutes probably wouldn’t hurt.

B takes a deep breath, not knowing what quite to expect, before turning the knob on the double doors to the student council room, taking a step inside.

The room was dark, the blackout curtains doing their job, and was only illuminated by the light spilling in from the door and a set of candles in the middle of the conference table, which also highlighted the fact that the conference table seemed to be overflowing with blue rose petals.

And there was Yeonjun, leaning against the table, a single blue rose in his hand. It’s only then when B looks down and notices that the carpeted floor all the way from the entrance of the room to the spot where Yeonjun was standing by the conference table was littered with blue rose petals.

“Yeonjun? What is this?” B asks, stepping inside and closing the door behind her, the only source of light in the room now coming from the candles. She removes her face mask, noticing that he wasn’t currently wearing one, and pockets it in her blazer.

“Baby. Come here.” he says, patting the spot on the table beside him. B walks over to the table, stepping on countless blue petals as she did so, and once she reaches him, Yeonjun takes her by surprise and carries her, lifting her up and setting her down on the table.

“Yeonjun!” she squeals in surprise, clinging on to him for dear life. As her bottom hits the table, she lets go and whacks his arm. “You surprised me!” she huffs, surprised by his sudden maneuver. “And you’re breaking the health protocols! What’s all this for anyway?”

He stands in front of her, simply staring at her, admiring how she looked in the candlelight. A few blue petals had fallen over the edge when he set her down on the table, but that didn’t bother him. He had skipped the entirety of 3rd period to prepare for this moment, so he wouldn’t let anything distract him now.

“All this?” he simply says. Upon seeing the confused look on her face, he takes a step towards her, situating himself in between her dangling legs, and he rests his hands on either side of her, his palms laid flat on the table just centimeters away from her thighs. The whole mood in the room shifted from playful to something different with just that simple action. “All this is for you.”

B could feel her heart start to pound in her chest again. She tried to keep a level head but Yeonjun was standing so close that she could smell him, the scent of his cologne now very familiar to her, and she could feel parts of his uniform lightly tickling at her inner thighs where he stood, sending shivers down her spine. “For me? Why?”

“Because, Baby, you deserve it. You deserve all of it.” he begins carefully, slowly, his gaze locking her in place. “I told you I want to give you all the good things you deserve, and during the past week I tried. Those dates meant a lot to me and I can only hope that you enjoyed them half as much as I did. My plans were cut short because of your unexpected temporary roommate,” he says, fondly referring to Kai, “and maybe I should’ve waited a little bit longer to do this, but I don’t think I can keep this to myself any longer.”

B looks down then, her cheeks starting to heat up. She sees how close his hands are to her thighs and her mouth goes dry. He was standing so close. “What are you talking about?” she says, her eyes transfixed on his hands.

Her eyes follow as he raises one hand to cup her face, lifting it up slightly to meet his gaze. “I want you, Baby.” he says, looking right into her eyes. “I want you to be mine.”

B takes a deep breath, finding herself unable to look away, before she says “I want you, too.”

And with those words, Yeonjun couldn’t resist any longer. He leaned forward, closing what little distance was left between them, and pulled her face up to his, their lips crashing together.

~ w a r n i n g : makeout scene ~

Praying that he couldn’t hear her pounding heartbeat, B returns the kiss with equal fervor, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Her fingers entwine themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, effectively disheveling his blue hair.

Yeonjun’s hands inch away from the table and come in direct contact with her thighs, the sudden warmth of his palms on her bare skin causing B’s mouth to open a little to let out a breath of surprise. She feels him smile against her lips, amused by her reaction, before taking the opportunity to trace her lower lip with his tongue, seeking entrance, which she allows.

His hands start to move slowly up her body then, he slides them up from her thighs to her waist, her skirt hiking up a few inches higher in the process. He breaks the kiss, allowing a moment for them to catch their breaths, before bowing his head down, his lips coming in contact with the sensitive skin on her neck.

“Oh god.” B breathes out, surprised by the contact, and again she feels his lips form a smile against her skin. She tilts her head backwards, his lips trailing kisses along her exposed skin, her heavy breaths starting to make her feel lightheaded.

Just as he’s about to pull away, his lips brush against the dip in her collarbone, causing her to wrap her legs around his waist and her fingers in his hair to dig in deeper, her body reacting to him before her mind could grasp what was happening.

“Fuck.” he breathes against her skin, feeling himself start to lose control.

B’s grip loosens then, her hands dropping from his hair to rest on his shoulders, her breathing heavy as she lets her head fall forward to rest on the top of his head, his face still buried in her neck. “Sorry.” she whispers, trying to control the rise and fall of her chest.

His grip on her waist remains tight, her blouse bunched up in his fists, his head buried in her neck as he tries to calm himself down, his breath coming out through clenched teeth. For a moment, they stay like that, until Yeonjun’s grip gradually starts to loosen, letting go of the fabric of her blouse as his hands go from clenching her waist to gently tracing circles on the now exposed skin on her hips.

~ end of makeout scene ~

“You…” he begins slowly, lifting his head and letting it rest against her forehead, their breaths mingling. “You drive me crazy, you know?”

She lets out a small laugh, shaking her head lightly against his. “Not really, no.”

He laughs too, reaching a hand up to caress her hair, his eyes on hers once again. “Baby.” he simply says.

“Yes?” she responds, unable to stop a smile from creeping on her face. He smiles too, his heart fluttering, and he takes a deep breath before saying the next few words.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

She nods her head eagerly, their foreheads rubbing together. “Choi Yeonjun, I’m all yours.” she says, laughing upon seeing his bright smile. She kisses his nose, then his forehead and each of his cheeks. He starts laughing as she showers his face with light kisses. “I’m yours, you’re mine, Baby.” he says, the feeling washing over him.

“You think it’s safe to let everyone know now?” Yeonjun asks her, remembering how he promised Beomgyu they’d tell the rest of the boys about it soon.

B nods, biting her lip as she thinks of how people would react to the news. Yeonjun was her boyfriend. “Yes.”

He uses his thumb to free her lower lip from her teeth, gently tracing it before kissing her softly again. “Let’s tell the guys later. At lunch.” he says, referring to their daily lunchbreaks spent at the gazebo.

“Sure.” she says. Then she pulls away and pushes herself off the table, straightening out her uniform as she does so. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Biology class to get back to.”

Yeonjun smirks, watching her pull her skirt down and tuck the hem of her blouse back in, straightening her blazer and running her fingers through her hair. It gave him some sort of satisfaction, knowing that he had gotten her so disheveled. He leans back against the table, running a hand through his hair and straightening out his necktie as well, keeping his hands in the front pockets of his trousers.

“Aren’t you coming back to class?” B asks, pulling the face mask out of her blazer pocket and putting securing it over her nose and mouth. “There’s only a few more minutes, and then it’ll be our lunch break.”

Yeonjun shakes his head. “I never went to third period.” he admits. “You better get back to class and surrender your hall pass though. I’ll meet you at the gazebo for lunch.” he says.

B’s mouth drops open. “You skipped third period?” she exclaims. “Please promise me you won’t skip classes again, please?” she pouts.

He laughs, taking her hand and pulling her closer. “I promise. Except for when my father requests it, though. But this is the last non-business related time I skip class.” he says, kissing the back of her hand. “You better hurry back, the bell rings in about 10 minutes.”

“Oh my god, I am so dead!” she squeals, her eyes widen as starts to pull away, but Yeonjun’s grip on her wrist keeps her in place.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he says pointedly, his brow raised.

“Oh.” she simply says, before standing on her tiptoes and using a finger to pull her mask down, giving him a quick peck on the lips before pulling the mask back up. “That?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “You are adorable. I meant this,” he says, planting the single blue rose in her free hand. “but thanks, Baby.”

She blushes beet red then, straightening out her blazer one last time and quickly saying “See you at lunch, Yeonjun!” before dashing out the door.

He uses the remaining 10 minutes of 3rd period to distract himself from his thoughts by cleaning up all the rose petals he had set up. He wasn’t expecting things to get so heated, he only wanted to ask her to be his girlfriend, but he had to admit that he was pleasantly surprised by the turn of events. Just thinking about how she had reacted to his touches and how adorably flustered she got made him smile to himself, but the memory of her wrapping her legs around his waist and tilting her head back sent his mind wandering into the very place he was trying to distract himself from in the first place.

He sighs, shaking his head as he forced his thoughts to go focus into another mindset instead. He checks his watch, the petals all put away in a garbage bag. As the lunch bell rings, he grabs his things and locks the student council room behind him, putting on a face mask before making his way to the gazebo where he would meet his friends and his girlfriend for lunch.

Now he just had to tell his friends about his girlfriend.

•°•

When B got back to her Biology class, the teacher fortunately didn’t seem to notice that she was gone for well over 5 minutes, but her friends definitely did. When she sat back down beside Ryujin and Yuna, they definitely noticed how long her absence was, and they took note of how flushed she looked, and of the blue rose that he had haphazardly tucked under her blazer.

“Spill it. Now.” the 2 girls eagerly say, eyeing her like a hawk.

“Yeonjun asked me to meet up with him at the student council room.” B whispers to them, making sure that they were the only ones within earshot.

“Ooh, a steamy secret rendezvous in the middle of class?” Ryujin says teasingly.

“No, it wasn’t like that.” B aggressively whispers back, well-aware of how her cheeks were heating up as she tries to push away thoughts of Yeonjun’s lips on her neck.

“So what was it like then?” Yuna asks innocently.

Unable to contain her smile, B says “He asked me to be his girlfriend. And I said yes.”

The 2 girls quietly squeal at the good news. “Wow! Congrats!” Ryujin says.

Yuna nods. “Wow, and just like that for the first time in 2 years, Choi Yeonjun has a girlfriend.”

“2 years? He hasn’t had a girlfriend in 2 years?” B asks, surprised. Since everyone kept mentioning Yeonjun having a record for being one of the biggest flirts on campus, she was expecting him to have a long list of complicated past relationships.

“Well, real serious girlfriends, yeah. He’s been on a few dates with some girls since then, but it never really went beyond that so I wouldn’t call them girlfriends. And if I’m not mistaken, she was his first girlfriend. His first love, actually.” Yuna says thoughtfully. “I don’t really know her since she was never a student here.”

“I did, sort of.” Ryujin pipes up. “Gyu told me all about the guys’ past relationships. He mentioned Yeonjun and Rose’s relationship a lot. He said she was…” she starts, trying to choose her words carefully. “well, a complete bitch.”

“Rose?” B says, the name completely foreign to her. “His first girlfriend? So he’s only had 1 other girlfriend before me? And she was a complete bitch?” she asks, her head spinning with information.

Ryuji nods. “Yeah, despite his track record and dating history, he’s only ever had 1 serious relationship, and that was with Rose.” she says. “Gyu said they were intense. It was one of those relationships that were just so, um, loud I guess?”

“Loud? What do you mean?” B asks, genuinely curious yet a bit afraid to find out the answer.

“Gyu said they were one of those couples who were always so in-your-face about their relationship. Yeonjun wasn’t active on social media back then, but she was, and she was flaunting her relationship all over, showing off all the stuff he’d spoil her with and everything. Not only that, but they were one of those couples that, when going through a fight, the whole world would know about. According to Gyu, their relationship was dramatic and fiery and intense and so damn toxic, but Yeonjun was head over heels for her, which annoyed the guys to no end.”

“That sounds kind of awful.” B says, unable to imagine Yeonjun in such a relationship. “Kind of weird that the guys didn’t seem so supportive, either?”

Ryujin shakes her head. “That’s not even the worst of it. Apparently, she cheated on him with another rich kid she met while she was on vacation or something. Gyu says he hasn’t hated anyone as much as he hated Rose.”

“Now that sounds really awful.” B said, the information overload swirling around in her head. She couldn’t even imagine how awful this girl must’ve been for even Beomgyu and his friends to hate her so much. Why had Yeonjun fallen in love with such an awful person? And how could he have stayed in such a toxic relationship? And how could anyone cheat on him?

“I can’t say for sure since I personally don’t know her, Gyu just showed me a few of her pictures before, but he made her sound like the devil incarnate.” Ryujin says.

“Well, devil incarnate or not, Yeonjun’s definitely taken his standards to a different level with you.” Yuna says a bit comfortingly, squeezing B’s arm, trying to move away from the unpleasant topic. “And the best part is, I’m pretty sure all his friends love you already, so you won’t have to worry about that either. You and Yeonjun are solid.”

“Thanks, Yuna.” B says, smiling in relief. Then, remembering what Kai had told her about wanting to ask Yuna out, B giggles to herself.

“What was that for?” Yuna asks, noticing the sudden giggle.

Just then, the lunch bell rings, and B stands up instantly, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Nothing. Just excited about my new relationship, I guess.” And about your soon-to-be relationship with my best friend. she thinks to herself, before greeting the girls goodbye and leaving the room.

Due to Kai’s absence, she had to walk to the gazebo alone, growing accustomed to having him pick her up outside her classroom so they could walk to the gazebo together. Now that she was left alone with her thoughts, she was starting to feel overwhelmed about everything that had happened that morning, from being back in school to her meet up with Yeonjun to officially being his girlfriend to learning about his ex. Even though she had learned a lot from Ryujin, she had to admit that her curiosity was still taking over her thoughts, which she knew would probably do no good for her new relationship.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder about Yeonjun’s past relationship, and worry about how similar it had sounded to her relationship with her one and only ex boyfriend.

As she approaches the gazebo, she sees that Yeonjun and the rest of the guys were already there, sitting at their usual places. Without Kai, she wasn’t sure where she should sit. She usually sat beside Soobin cause that’s where Kai would usually sit before welcoming her into the group, but now she wasn’t sure.

Before she started to worry too much about where to sit, the boys spotted her approaching the gazebo and started waving at her. She smiles and waves back, stepping into the gazebo.

“There you are! Ah, it feels good to see your face around here again.” Beomgyu says, welcoming her in. “And just in time, too. Yeonjun says he has an important announcement that he’d like to make.”

“That we’d like to make, actually.” Yeonjun says, offering B a hand as she steps in, and she takes his hand shyly, letting him guide her into the small space.

“Oh?” Taehyun says, eyeing the 2 with a bad feeling in his gut. “What announcement?”

B takes a deep breath suddenly feeling shy and nervous, her eyes on the ground. She was starting to feel worried about how their friends might react, and guilty about not telling them about the whole thing in the first place. She had grown very fond of the boys and felt very comfortable around them, their closeness making her feel safe, as if she belonged. She was afraid that being Yeonjun’s girlfriend would change the way they see her or the way they treat her.

Sensing her nerves, Yeonjun squeezes her hand, urging her to look at him instead. He offers her a small smile, which she nervously returns. He nods at her before turning his attention to the 3 boys seated. “First thing’s first, I just wanna say that I’m sorry we didn’t tell you guys about this sooner. We just agreed that it would be best to keep it between us until we were sure about how things would go.”

“Whatever it is, we understand.” Soobin says with a smile on his face yet with a sinking feeling in his stomach, his mind buzzing at Yeonjun’s choice of words.

We.

Taehyun looks at his president with worry, a part of him dreading whatever Yeonjun would say next yet already sensing what was coming.

Yeonjun smiles brightly, his heart fluttering as he looks at the girl by his side before slinging an arm over her shoulders and pulling her to his side. “Baby and I are together.”

As the words leave Yeonjun’s mouth, Soobin’s gaze instantly falls on B, wanting to see if it was true or if it was some sort of weird prank that Yeonjun was pulling. When he sees her smile shyly, attempting to bury her face in the blue haired boy’s chest, his heart sinks.

“We’re officially a couple.” she confirms, her face getting redder by the second as she looks up at Yeonjun, who he could tell was grinning behind his face mask.

Soobin didn’t know what felt worse, the fact that his best friend and the girl he just realized he was falling for were now a couple, or the fact that now he was falling in love with his best friend’s girlfriend. Seeing them together now—her with her flushed cheeks and her tight grip on Yeonjun’s necktie and him with his arm dropping down from her shoulders to her waist, securing her by his side—made Soobin feel a bit sick. But what made him feel even sicker was the fact that seeing them together was making him feel sick in the first place. His best friend had finally found an amazing girl 2 years after his horrendous break up and was now dating said amazing girl. He wanted nothing more than to feel happy, but the fact that he didn’t made him feel terrible.

Before Soobin’s guilt starts to consume him, Beomgyu suddenly claps, sending a jolt through everyone in the gazebo. “Wow, congratulations B and YJ!” he says, approaching the couple and happily slapping the older boy on his back. “You 2 look great together.”

“Thanks, Gyu.” B says shyly, her blush visible even through her face mask, one hand fisting Yeonjun’s necktie as he kept her close to him.

“Don’t mention it, I’m happy that this guy has finally moved on.” Beomgyu says teasingly. “And that he was able to score someone way out of his league.” he says, wiggling his brows at the pair.

“Shut up, BG.” Yeonjun says, playfully shoving Beomgyu away before they share a quick high five “You’re right though, I don’t know how I got so lucky.” he says, using his free hand to caress her hair.

“Shut up, both of you.” she says, flustered. She looks at Taehyun and Soobin anxiously, holding her breath as she waited for their reactions. So far, the two boys had either been staring at her and Yeonjun or at each other.

Finally, Taehyun stands up, approaching the couple. “B.” he simply says, which causes her heart to sink a little.

“Tyunie?” she asks, nervously waiting to know his verdict. She and Taehyun had formed a sort of special bond over their walks together, and his opinion was the one that she worried about the most. She wanted to apologize on the spot for not telling him about it sooner, and explain everything about the past couple of weeks to him to make him understand why she had chosen to keep her relationship with Yeonjun a secret. She didn’t know why, but she wanted Taehyun’s approval.

He smiles at her then, and she feels the weight lifted off her chest. “Congratulations.” he finally says, stepping towards her and hugging her, which she wholeheartedly returned. She lets out a sigh as he rubs her back, her chin tucked into his shoulder, before he pulls away. “I just broke a health protocol for you.” he suddenly says, horrified. He instantly steps away then and starts to vigorously spray his hands, arms and neck with alcohol, which causes B to burst out laughing.

“You did it cause you looove me.” she says teasingly. “And thanks, Tyun.” she says, glad that he approved, though she made a mental note to tell him about all the details later on. She felt like she owed him that much.

It’s quiet for a moment as Yeonjun’s gaze lands on Soobin, the only one in the group who hadn’t shown any reaction towards the news as he had just been staring back and forth between him and B the whole time.

For Yeonjun, it was Soobin’s opinion he valued the most. Soobin was one of the few people in the world that Yeonjun would trust with his life. He was the only one among his friends who supported his relationship with Rose, valuing Yeonjun’s happiness above his own when he was clearly unhappy about the whole incident.

He was the one who was there for Yeonjun when everything came crashing down, the one who helped Yeonjun pick himself back up after being cheated on by his first love, the one who helped save Yeonjun from the nights when he would drown himself in alcohol in the hopes of numbing the heartache, the one who would sneak into Yeonjun’s house in the middle of the night to make sure he was asleep safe and sound in his bed rather than hooking up with random girls and picking fights with random guys at the bar, the one who would talk Yeonjun into giving his father a chance and reason with him that his father only wanted what was best for his son, the one who encouraged Yeonjun to join the dance club and the jazzed club and the student council, the one who begged the faculty and advisers to give Yeonjun a second chance at finishing school at MOA promising that he would keep his friend in check, the one who would do anything to make Yeonjun smile, and the one who would always tell Yeonjun the truth.

He stares at Soobin until Soobin’s eyes finally meet his and he stands up, making his way towards the blue haired boy. Once they stood face to face, there’s a moment of silence before Soobin’s face melts into a warm smile, his dimples peeking out from under his mask, his eyes crinkling at the corners, which instantly puts a smile on Yeonjun’s face as well.

Yeonjun pulls him into a hug, relieved. “Congratulations, Yeonjun.” the taller boy says, patting his back a couple of times before pulling away. “I’m so happy for you.” he says.

“Thanks, Binnie.” Yeonjun says, patting him on the back as well. “This means a lot to me.”

Soobin nods at him before turning to B, and before he can say or do anything, she throws her arms out to him and pulls him in for a hug, her tiny body feeling especially fragile as her arms squeezed around his waist.

He looks down at B then, finding her in his arms for the second time that day, in almost the exact same way. Again, he feels time stop the moment his arms wrap themselves around her body, only this time she had her arms around his waist as well. Her face was buried in his chest, the top of her head inches away from his chin, the smell of her lavender-scented shampoo taking over his senses, his hands resting on the curves of her waist.

Only now it felt completely different.

When he hugged her this morning, it felt like everything in the world was falling into place, the feeling hitting him so suddenly with such clarity, as if time seemed to stop as he was hit with the realization that he was falling in love.

As he hugged her now, it felt like everything in the world was falling apart, the horrible feeling hitting him as he felt his heart sink deeper and deeper, as if time seemed to stop as he was hit with the reality that she was Yeonjun’s, that what he felt for her was wrong, that he could never let his feelings for her go past what they were now, that he probably shouldn’t even be hugging her anymore.

“Thanks, Soobinie.” she says in response to how he had congratulated Yeonjun.

“No problem, B.” he says, lifting a hand up to gently stroke her hair, taking a deep breath and taking in her lavender scent, savoring the warmth of her body against his one last time, telling himself he’d never hug her like this for as long as he could handle it. As he lays his chin gently at the top of her head, his eyes meet Taehyun’s, who was standing behind her, staring at him with a sad look in his eyes.

Soobin squeezes his eyes shut, prolonging the hug for a moment longer, before finally pulling away, looking directly at her eyes. She was glowing, her face flushed yet radiant, her smile so big that it was visible under her mask, she looked so so happy that it made his heart ache, knowing that the next few words he’d speak out loud would kill him yet knowing that he meant every bit of it.

“I’m happy for you.”

•°•

Author’s note:

Hello, thank you for reading! I’m trying to get more familiar with Tumblr, so if you have any suggestions or comments don’t be afraid to drop them! (PS I’m not even sure how to reply to comments, that’s how bad I am at using Tumblr lol but I promise that all replies are highly appreciated!!) PS: Happy 1 year anniversary/birthday, MOA! <3 Also: STREAM DRAMA MV!

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rhysand-vs-fenrys · 5 years

Text

My Fanfic Library: The Masterlist (As of 03/26/20)

**For the sake of space, only Chapter 1 of long-form fics is linked.**

The Shadows of Night (Ongoing)

A mysterious army appears in the mountains of Night and soon declares war against the High Lords. The conflict will shed light on Night's darkest secrets and reveal the horrible truth behind every Daemati and Shadowsinger in Prythian.

Tumblr: ~1~ || ~2~ || ~3~ || ~4~ || ~5~ || ~6~ || ~7~ || ~8~ || ~9~ || ~10~ || ~11~ || ~12~ || ~13~ || ~14~ || ~15~ || ~16~ || ~17~ || ~18~ || ~19~ || ~20~ || ~21~ || ~22~ || ~23~ || ~24~ || ~25~ || ~26~ || ~27~ || ~28~ || ~29~ || ~30~ || ~31~ || ~32~ || ~33~ || ~34~ ||

AO3 || Fanfiction.net

The Cabin By The Lake

Cassian has been keeping a secret- for the past 300 years he has been building cabins around a lake to house the Inner Circle and any family they might have. Five years after the end of ACOWAR, the cabins are finished and the Inner Circle descends for two weeks in paradise.

**Even-number chapters contain smut scenes.

Chapter 1 || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Velaris

“Protect Velaris. Protect each other. I love you all.” With Rhys’ final words, the shields around Velaris rise, trapping the Inner Circle inside for fifty years. This series follows Mor, Cassian, Azriel, and Amren as they struggle to adapt and fulfill Rhys’ final request.

Chapter 1 || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Velaris: Fury and Ruin

Following a disastrous attack on Hybern, Cassian’s wings are broken, Azriel is critically wounded, and Feyre is dragged to Spring by Tamlin. Rhysand must now earn the forgiveness of his friends, protect his new sisters-in-law, and find a way to protect Prythian from a looming war- all without his mate and best friend by his side.

**You do not need to read my previous series "Velaris"

Chapter 1 || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

The Feast of Souls

Everyone gathers at the estate in Velaris for the Feast of Souls- and to quietly investigate Feyre’s erratic behavior and strange temperament. Figuring out what is wrong with her is the easy part though- the hard part will be saving her soul before the clock strikes midnight and she is lost forever.

Chapter 1 || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

An Elucien Epilogue

Lucien returns to Velaris after the events of ACOWAR, determined to be a better male than Tamlin and put aside his mating bond if that’s what Elain wants.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Bring Her Home

After forty-nine years in hell, Rhysand has returned to Night. A piece of him will always belong to that human who saved Prythian- the fae female now poised to marry his sworn enemy. As the sun sets on that horrible day a plea goes out across the Courts- “please, save me. Get me out. End this,” and Rhysand is only too happy to oblige.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

The Poison in the Wound

Feyre and Tamlin meet to try and finally clear away some of the bad blood between them.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Strength in Darkness

After she is woken by a particularly horrible nightmare, Elain asks her husband to take her to the only place that might help her make sense of everything that has happened to her: Under the Mountain.

Elucien Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Elriel Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

What Rises from the Ashes

Tamlin confesses that he and Amarantha were incompatible mates- and the role that played in his downfall.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net || (New) Authorized German Translation

When the Darkness Comes

Lucien recalls the day Amarantha took his eye- and the difficult weeks that followed.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

The World Beyond My Cage

Azriel recalls his childhood, how he ended up in an Illyrian camp far from his cell, and how his world was changed by an arrogant little Lordling with a chamber pot.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

A Peaceful Night (18+)

The holidays are a time for too many parties, too many people, and too much noise. After the festivities are over though, one can take solace in the love of their other half and the light that person brings into their life.

Feysand Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Nessian Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Elucien Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Elriel Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Azuala Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Amrian Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Morridwen Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

A Sweet Treat (Feysand 18+)

On Feyre’s first Feast of Souls in Velaris, she finds a new way to give Rhys his holiday chocolates.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

A Midday Treat (Feysand 18+)

Rhys has been skipping meals again, so Feyre decides to give him an incentive to eat his lunch.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Alone in the Townhouse (Nessian 18+)

When the Court of Nightmares visits Velaris, Nesta and Cassian plot to take advantage of their time alone and finally take things to the next level.

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Nessian: The Mating (Nessian 18+)

At long last, Cassian and Nesta's wedding (and mating) day has arrived... along with most of Prythian.

*This is a sequel to "Alone in the Townhouse"*

Extended Re-Post Chapter 1 || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Short Version || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Simply Love (Morridwen 18+)

In a thinly veiled attempt to seduce Cerridwen, Mor takes her lover of three years to day for a date before spending an evening at home. A simple, sweet fic for a simple and sweet love.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Slowly (Nessian 18+)

Cassian returns from a fierce Illyrian civil war weary and on edge. Nesta wants to welcome her lover home after weeks away, but she knows the lust that comes on the heels of bloodshed has been building in Cassian the entire time he’s been gone. Both desperately want to be with one another, but for Nesta’s sake he must shove down the Illyrian and proceed slowly.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

A Bargain Well Struck (Nessian 18+)

Their deal is simple enough- if Nesta trains hard enough, she can claim a massage as her reward. Cassian’s hands never venture beneath the modesty-towels, so Nesta makes sure all the right places are exposed.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Sharing Heaven (Nessian & Azriel 18+)

Nesta and Cassian invite Azriel to join them in bed, and Nesta finally gets what she’s been dreaming of all year.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Alone in the Garden (Elucien 18+)

As the Inner Circle tricks Nesta and Cassian into spending some alone time together, Elain and Lucien find themselves unchaperoned at the House of Wind. **Contains ACOWAR Spoilers** (This is a quasi-sequel to "An Elucien Epilogue" and runs concurrently to "Alone in the Townhouse")

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Cazriel: The Spongebath (Cazriel 18+)

In this AU of my fic "Velaris: Fury and Ruin", Cassian and Azriel explore previously untouched desires each male feels for their friend (written for Court-0f-Dreamers on tumblr in 15 min after too much alcohol).

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net: NOT AVAILABLE

The Torturer’s Throne (Cazriel 18+)

Cassian helps Azriel push his darkness aside and takes a bit of relief for himself in the process.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Until the Shadows Are Silent (Cazriel 18+)

For eight years the shields around Velaris have kept the Inner Circle trapped. Azriel is drowning under the wrath, rage, and pain of being caged in the city, so he turns to an old lover, one who is very good at bending fae over and not stopping until their minds and bodies are ravaged– Cassian.

*Contains strong BDSM themes, DM if you are concerned about a specific TW*

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanficiton.net

One Year in Heaven (Elucien/Elriel 18+)

Elain and her husband celebrate their first anniversary in style. A romantic dinner, an exchange of gifts, and a new suite of bedroom toys to try out.

Elucien Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Elriel Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Watching (Elucien 18+)

Elain and Lucien head into the foothills of Velaris to attend the opera, but their true destination is an exclusive club hidden deep beneath the theater. They’ll still get a hell of a show- and have a chance to put on one themselves.

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Sharing (A Watching Sequel) (Elucien 18+)

For years Elain and Lucien have been loyal members of (and performers in) the sensual club hidden beneath Velaris’ opera house. Now- after months of discussion- they have decided to test the waters on expanding their display and changing their masks. No audience, no stage- and no longer just the two of them.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.Net

Incense Burner (Ongoing (Elucien 18+))

After a collapse in the Hewn City reveals a long lost Vault of the High Lords, Lucien and Elain accidentally come to possess one of the Lord’s treasures. What appears to be a simple incense burner turns out to be something far, far more. As Elain and Lucien fall under its spell time and again they will be drawn into a world they could only imagine in their wildest dreams…

Chapter 1 || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Chapter 2 || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

A Peaceful Night (18+)

Manorian Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Chaorene Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Elorcan Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Rowaelin Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Nesraq Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Lysaedion Edition || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

The Calm After the Storm (Rowaelin 18+)

Erawan and Maeve have been defeated, the armies of Morath are vanquished, and Aelin rightly sits on the throne of Terrasen with Rowan by her side- and Lord Darrow as a constant pain in her ass. Frustrated and in need of a break, Aelin orders Rowan to do his job and consort with his Queen.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

To Spite the Shadow (Rowaelin 18+)

Nearly a year has passed since Aelin and Rowan destroyed the forces of Maeve and Erawan. Terrasen is rebuilding, Aelin is healing, and the world is finally at peace. Rowan conspires with Lysandra to give his mate a rest from her Queenly duties.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

For You (Lysaedion 18+)

Lysandra and Aedion enjoy a peace and freedom they never knew before Erawan and Maeve’s defeat. Still- something isn’t quite right. Aedion is keeping one of his desires secret, and Lysandra is determined to figure out what it is.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

A Familiar Stranger (Lysaedion 18+)

Tanned bronze skin, piercing violet eyes, night black hair- after a nightmare week in Orynth, Aedion goes for a drink and catches the eye of a beautiful- and familiar- fae male. When the male leaves, Aedion follows him to a dark, secluded alley where they can both blow off some steam.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

The Path Ahead (Elorcan 18+)

For Elide, it is the end of her virginity. For Lorcan, it’s the last ‘first time’ he ever wants to have. Both are nervous about the evening to come, but neither would change it for the world.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

A Cure for Nightmares (Manorian 18+)

Mere weeks after the events of “Empire of Storms”, Manon and the Thirteen conspire to give Dorian the break he so desperately needs.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Curing the Fever (Manorian 18+)

Manon is forced to leave a meeting early due to a suspected illness. Luckily for her and Dorian, none of the Thirteen guessed exactly what was wrong.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

One Year in Heaven (Manorian 18+)

Dorian and Manon celebrate the anniversary of their meeting in style- with ropes, chains, and a bit of domination.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Morning in the Jingshi

A new merchant has moved into Caiyi Town, one who deals in sinful wares. Wuxian places an order and decides to model a whole suite of new toys for Wangji. Wei Wuxian has always liked it rough, but he may have been too ambitious this time.

Tumblr || AO3 || Fanfiction.Net (Not Available)

Project: Echo (Part 1)

A long-buried Hydra disaster, a monster in the shadows, a missing child. Eight months after the events of “The Winter Soldier”, Bucky turns himself in to the Avengers on one condition: They must help him find a girl snatched off the streets by Hydra seven years ago. In their quest, the Avengers accidentally unleash a horrifying creature of darkness and shadow, intent on making their quarry its prey.

Prologue || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Project: Echo (Part 2)

A new enemy surfaces with a team of the Avengers’ greatest foes, hand-picked for their destruction. Meanwhile, Inessa’s pre-Hydra past begins to surface, casting doubt on where her loyalties truly lie.

Prologue || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Project: Echo (FINALE)

Seven years after the events of “Part 2”, Avengers Tower explodes, fulfilling Bucky’s vision. All evidence points to Avengers Shadow-Ops leader Inessa Ryker, who is forced to seek out Bucky in hiding. Together they must determine who the traitor is in their ranks and if their friends are still alive- all while trying to survive deadly ambushes orchestrated by Sam Wilson and his hand-picked army.

Prologue || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

Avengers: Valkyrie Wars (Part 1)

When a young woman stumbles across a Valkyrie artifact the Avengers will fight Asgard, Valkyrie, Loki, Hydra, and the last of a monstrous race known as the Norn. Whoever claims the weapon can unleash Hell, but when it vanishes Loki takes the only person capable of finding it again: Steve Roger's lover.

**All cannon through "Winter Soldier" used, NO "Age of Ultron" or "Civil War"**

Tumblr: Not Available || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

To Save Her Soul (Ongoing)

After the events of "Captain America: Civil War", Alice Pierce (the granddaughter of Alexander Pierce), a drug addict, is pulled off the streets and forced through detox by the Avengers so that she might help infiltrate her grandfather's compound to rescue Clint's wife and children.

**Trigger warnings noted above chapters, overall warning for drug use/withdrawal**

Tumblr: Not Available || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

X-Reader Format (Abandoned) || AO3 || Fanfiction.net

The Ridiculous Ground-Up World Building Sheet

Shorter: World Building 101

World Building 102: World Building Tips

The Ridiculous Ground-Up Character Building Sheet

General Writing Tips

Master Plot Types

Things to Ask Yourself

Dialogue

How to Write Smut

Tough-Love Tips for Writers

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