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#if you know my writing i almost always include angst
julietthereaper · 1 year
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A Not-So-Hollow Christmas
~ A PrinceFox fanfic ~
Author’s Note -
prompt I seen from @jackstheprinceofhearts ! their account is amazing, especially if you are in some desperate need for broken heart content. thank you for posting your wonderful prompt! It was too cute for me to pass up
this IS my first post on tumblr, although this fic will also be posted to my ouabh collection on wattpad (my handle is jennacanread if ur interested!). I haven’t read tbona since the release date so I hope no one’s too out of character?
(obviously) spoilers for tbona | minor uses of swearing | set during the Hollow chapters and briefly after the end of tbona | not canon compliant
Summary -
After discovering Jacks isn’t the biggest fan of Christmas, Evangeline plots to turn him into a festive softy, even if it means making a few extra deals with a Fate.
Evangeline always had a sixth sense, just like how bells did. Although her sixth sense wasn't nearly as helpful as it was for bells. She could sense it when she woke up that morning it was time to start celebrating her favourite holiday of the year.
Christmas.
She squealed giddily as she launched herself out of bed, choosing a pretty Christmas-red dress to get festive, her pink hair blending nicely with the red silk. Evangeline slipped on some gold jewellery to spice it up before heading to the main area in the Hollow.
When Evangeline passed by the dining room, Jacks was already sitting at the table, sipping on a mug of spiced cider. He arched an amused eyebrow at her. "What's got you grinning like a fox?"
Evangeline snickered lightly at his wordplay. "It's Christmas season!"
Jacks amused expression fell. "Oh, of course you're one of those people."
"You don't like Christmas?"
He set his mug down on the table. "It's all awful singing, terrible gifts that no one wants, and distasteful decorations."
Despite Jacks's bahumbug attitude towards the holidays, it did not dampen her mood. In fact, all that rang through her mind was challenge accepted.
Evangeline was going to make Jacks enjoy Christmas, no matter what it took.
She took hold of his cold wrist, tugging him up. "We need a tree."
"We already have some outside."
"A Christmas tree, Jacks. We need to go hunting for a Christmas tree. A big one, to fit in the main room."
"Absolutely not."
Jacks was, unsurprisingly, being difficult. Evangeline had planned for this. "Alright, Prince of Hearts. I'd like to make another deal."
"You haven't even completed your first one." Although his tone was low, his mouth stretched into a grin.
"Think of this like a side quest. What do you want in exchange for a Christmas tree?"
He hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her head back slightly. Her heart picked up in speed. "Another night."
Evangeline's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. But before she could ask, he continued.
"Another night of you being mine."
Evangeline could have sworn her heart was going to explode from her chest.
Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea-
Evangeline hushed that voice in her head. She held out her hand. "Deal."
Jacks shook it. "Haven't you heard the warnings about making more than one deal with a Fate, Little Fox?"
"I'm choosing to ignore those warnings in favour of Christmas spirit."
Jacks bent his head to nibble the shell of her ear. "Bad choice."
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It was the first time, Evangeline had realized, that she had been a distance from the Hollow since she arrived. They needed to find a Christmas tree farm so they could find the perfect tree.
Evangeline noted how rigid Jacks was beside her, his jaw was set, shoulders tight, and his gaze kept flicking towards her. Was there danger somewhere? Had she said something wrong since they left the Hollow?
Evangeline bumped him with her shoulder. "Why are you so tense?"
Jacks' eyes narrowed at her, blue eyes searching hers analytically. "Do you feel any different?"
"About what?"
His eyes fleeted to the sky a moment as they walked. "In general. Do you want to run away from me, Little Fox?"
Jacks was acting strange, and she didn't understand why. She tried to ease him with a joke. "Not anymore than usual."
He exhaled, breath visible in the chilled air around them. Jacks' lips formed a smile. His shoulders relaxed and his steps came more natural than soldier-reporting-for-duty.
Evangeline liked him a lot when he was happy. She tried not to. Tried telling herself that he was a Fate and it was such a bad idea.
Instead, she grabbed his hand.
Her mouth went dry and her head emptied as she realized what she had done, the only thing she could think about was his hand in hers.
Jacks removed his hand from hers quickly. "What are you doing?"
      His words sent her mind in a panic. Despite the snow falling and how cold it was, hot embarrassment fled to her cheeks, face aflame. "I was just... forget about it."
      Evangeline gnawed on her cheek, keeping her eyes ahead and refusing to look his way.
       That was when rough fingers fiddled with her hand until both of their fingers were intertwined.
       She looked up at Jacks. His eyes softened as he caught her gaze from the corner of his eye.
        Her lips parted into a wide smile that Evangeline couldn't contain. Jacks was holding her hand. There was something so intimate about the action, it shushed all of the warning voices in her head. His palm pressed to hers warmly, their arms lightly swinging in unison.
      Evangeline looked up from their hands to see Miller's Tree Farm.
        "We're here!" Evangeline exclaimed excitedly, pointing at the sign with the hand that wasn't holding Jacks'.
       "Alright, go pick one out." Jacks nodded towards the trees.
       "You have to help, too. It's part of our deal."
       He groaned as Evangeline tugged him forward.
       "Come on, you stubborn prince!" She laughed, using her strength to drag him.
       "Only because I never fail to uphold my ends of deals."
       Evangeline secretly hoped that he actually wanted to pick out a tree with her.
      "We have to find the perfect one, Jacks. It can't be any old tree. It has to be the tree."
      "Are you even hearing yourself right now?"
      "You'll know it when you feel it."
      Reluctantly, Jacks trailed beside her, hands still attached as they walked through the farm. Evangeline spotted a pretty tree around the corner. She dropped his hand to dash towards it.
      Evangeline heard him mutter Dead Saints, Little Fox, under his breath. She inspected the tree when she reached it, pine needles lightly prickling her hands as they moved along it.
      A mischievous thought popped up in her head when she realized it wasn't the right tree. She bent down to scoop up some snow in her hand before Jacks reached her. She stood up abruptly, hiding the snow behind her back.
      "What's wrong with this one?" Jacks looked it up and down.
       "It's too tall. But that one over there..."
       When Jacks turned his back to find the tree she nodded towards, Evangeline lanced the snowball at his fur doublet.
       Jacks' body went still. He slowly turned around, lips parted as an offended demeanour took over his face. He tilted his head at her as Evangeline brought a cold hand up to her face, trying to stifle her giggles. She failed.
      "You better run, pet."
       A deep belly laugh emerged from her mouth as her feet sunk in the snow quickly. It slowed her down, but it didn't stop her from rushing away from him. She dodged trees, weaving in and out of them as she tried to escape Jacks.
      The ice cold hit her back before the hard thump did. Evangeline squealed, her hand reaching at her back, freezing nipping at her hands. Melted snow slowly seeped through her cape as she turned around to see Jacks smirking proudly.
      She quickly formed a snowball in her hands, whipping it at Jacks swiftly. He dodged it with ease before stalking towards her, already hitting her again with another snowball.
     "No, no, no!" Evangeline eventually found a tree to hide behind, gathering her breath. She made another snow ball, waiting for Jacks to come from where he last seen her. But he wasn't in sight.
     Her heart pounded in her ears as her eyes darted around the farm. A flash of blond hair emerged and Evangeline ran towards him. She threw the snowball at his side, but the moment it hit him Jacks tossed one at her in exchange, landing in the middle of her chest.
      Jacks chuckled deeply, she imagined from how quickly her mouth drooped down.
      "I wasn't even ahead of you for five seconds," Evangeline whined, walking towards him in defeat.
     "Say it, Little Fox. I win."
     She sighed. "You..."
      Evangeline smooshed snow into his blonde hair. Jacks' mouth formed an o shape as his eyes squeezed shut, melted snow running down the back of his neck.
     "...Are tied with me," Evangeline finished, flaunting a pearly grin in his face.
     Jacks pulled her in by her waist, Evangeline's heart skipping a beat. "Trust me, pet, there will be another round, and you will lose sourly." One of his hands drifted to her rose gold hair, tangling it in his hand before tilting her head back. “And you’ll be sorry you pulled that stunt with the snow in my hair.”
     His fingers massaged her scalp briefly, a challenge lit up in his eyes. Just as Evangeline began to respond, she peered up at the tree they were standing in front of. "This one, Jacks. It's perfect for the Hollow!"
      He shifted his head to examine it. "You like this one?"
     "It's the right size, it's branches are in lovely condition, and it has a nice memory tied to it."
      "Then this is the one we'll get."
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     After Jacks used his magic to persuade the owner to ship the tree over to the Hollow for free, Evangeline attempted to persuade Jacks to get decorations for the tree.
     "It's not a Christmas tree without ornaments, it's just a pine tree. You agreed to getting a Christmas tree."
     "I taught you too well," Jacks grumbled, shoulders brushing as they walked into the town square.
      Little sparks ignited everywhere Jacks touched her accidentally.
      Evangeline beamed in success. "Enjoying Christmas yet?"
     "No, still hate it.”
      Town square was decked out in every inch with Christmas decor. Lights glowed everywhere, trees, pine or not, were littered with all different sorts of ornaments, tinsel was strung everywhere, and a small band was playing Christmas tunes beneath a street lantern.
      Evangeline took it all in, joy filling her up from head to toe.
      "The North takes Christmas pretty serious."
      She twirled around, delighting in the festivity. "You're from here. What has Christmas ever done to you to make you such a scrooge?"
     Jacks shook his head. "Why do you like it so much?"
     "Stop deflecting the question."
      "I'm not. I'm giving you the answer."
     Evangeline worried her bottom lip between her teeth as they neared a shop selling decorations. "It gives everyone a reason to be merry. You get to spend time with your family, give and get gifts, amazing food, silly carols, funny, romantic kisses under the mistletoe..."
     Evangeline realized why Jacks did not like Christmas.
      "By all means, Little Fox, keep going. I just love those funny, deadly kisses underneath the mistletoe. It's a romantic experience as women drop dead in front of me." He gave her a wicked twist of his mouth, as if he enjoyed killing women, as if it truly didn't affect him. Jacks didn't even touch on the matter of family.
      But Evangeline noticed his eyes. Her father used to tell her how you found people's truths; in their eyes. She seen the forced smile in them, the hurt hidden behind it.
      "Jacks-"
      "We're at your ornament shop."
      Evangeline exhaled deeply, kicking the snow off her boots on the steps of the store before entering. Jacks did not have the same care about trekking snow in the store.
     "Pick out some ornaments for the tree," Evangeline urged him, searching for pretty ones too.
     "That wasn't part of our deal." Jacks side eyed her.
      She turned so that she was directly facing him. "Please, Jacks."
       He stared at her intently, but she did not break his gaze.
      "I'll make you cookies," Evangeline offered brightly.
      Jacks looked away, groaning. "For Fates' sake."
      She clapped, knowing he gave in to her. "Pick out some pretty ones!"
      As he walked away from her and to a different part of the store, he tossed his head over his shoulder. "They better be good cookies."
      There was an extra pep in Evangeline's step as she walked around the shop, finding some lovely green and red ornaments. She stuffed the box underneath her arm and continued her search.
      Fake icicles caught her eye, and Evangeline was entranced by them. They glittered when light hit them at the right angle, reflecting little rainbows. She tucked those under her arm too.
      After getting a basket and finding a few other ornaments, including a star topper, Jacks returned to her.
      He only said one word. "These."
       Evangeline peeked inside the box, eyes widening at his choice of blue and pink ornaments. There were even little foxes painted on some of them.
      "Aw, these are adorable!"
      Jacks glared at her. "Call them adorable one more time. I dare you."
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     After popping cookies into the oven at the Hollow,  Evangeline spent the rest of her evening decorating the Christmas tree. The minute she tried to convince Jacks to help her, he scoffed not this time, Little Fox, and strutted away.
      Although he was hiding it well, Evangeline knew Jacks was starting to warm up to Christmas. Even if it was just the smallest hints of it, it was still something. But her challenge wouldn't be completed until Jacks truly enjoyed Christmas.
      After placing the last of the tinsel and ornaments on the tree, it was time for the star.
      Evangeline set her hands on her hips, contemplating how she would reach the top. She tried jumping, she tried dragging a chair over, but it was still just out of reach.
     "What, pray tell, are you trying to accomplish?" Jacks leaned against the door way to the main room, arms crossed as he regarded her amusedly.
      "I'm trying-" Evangeline hopped, "to reach-" she leapt, "the top!" She ran out of breath.
      She came to the realization that Jacks might put the star on top for her. He would decorate the tree with her!
      Maybe.
      "As much as I'm enjoying you bouncing all over the place, there's a much easier approach to this, Little Fox."
     "Uh huh," Evangeline raised her eyebrows challengingly. "And what's that?"
     Jacks took four large steps towards her, and when she thought he was going to take the star from her hand, he grabbed her waist gently, lifting her up and on top of his shoulders.
      Evangeline let out a gasp, heart picking up again.
      "Hurry up, your dress is in my face." Jacks' voice came out muffled.
      Her thighs were also around his neck.
      Evangeline quickly placed the star on top, breathing quickly. "I'm done!"
     He placed her back on the floor, brushing a cool finger over her cheeks. "It's so easy to make you blush."
      Evangeline poked his nose in turn, Jacks swatting her hand away. "Admit it. You're beginning to like Christmas."
      "Has this become a personal mission for you, pet?"
      A quiet ding interrupted them.
      "The cookies!" Evangeline grinned, rushing to the kitchen, slipping on a pair of oven mitts and removing them from the oven.
      She stepped back, admiring her work.
      "Christmas cookies?" Jacks' tone was flat and unamused.
      Despite how hot the cookie was, Evangeline picked one up between her fingers, ignoring the slight burn. "Ha! Look, it's Santa."
      Jacks darted his head quickly towards her and took a large bite out of the cookie she held. "Headless Santa now," he mumbled as he chewed on the sugar cookie.
      "Fiend," Evangeline retorted.
      Jacks reached for another one, but Evangeline smacked his hand. "I need to decorate them!"
      "Someone's going on the naughty list. It's not nice to hit people, Little Fox."
     "It's not nice to bite cookies out of people's hands, Jacks."
      "I'm already on the naughty list, why should I care?"
      "Shoo, unless you're going to help me decorate these."
      "I'd almost mistake you for a Fate with how many deals you're trying to make." Jacks walked away, obviously not interested in decorating.
      Evangeline sighed. She picked up the bag of icing she'd prepared earlier, piping little designs onto her first cookie. Her festive mood was beginning to dampen. Jacks really wasn't going to come around to Christmas, was he? Of course, no matter how hard she tried, she failed. He was a Fate after all. Why had she expected Jacks to look at Christmas different for her?
      One decorated cookie later, strong arms wrapped around her waist and a head leaned against her shoulder, the smell of apples and something distinctly male filled her senses. Evangeline could have melted into his touch, despite her earlier frustration.
      "I thought you didn't want to decorate. You know, since you despise Christmas."
      "Hush, Little Fox, or I might change my mind."
     Evangeline couldn't fight the smile on her face. He grabbed the icing bag, still leaning on her shoulder and reaching through her waist. Jacks tried to pipe a design, but he squeezed too hard, a bunch of icing coming out at once. He growled.
      Evangeline giggled. "Here, I'll squeeze, you keep your hands on mine, guiding the bag, okay?"
      Jacks grunted in acknowledgment, placing his hands over hers. He guided her slowly, drawing little snowflakes on the snowman shaped cookie.
      A warm feeling rose through Evangeline. "Next one."
     This time it was a tree. Jacks drew ornaments and lights, actually taking it seriously. They continued like that until all the cookies were decorated, and Evangeline couldn't have cared less that she only decorated one. She was elated that Jacks had partook in something festive without motivation. It also helped his hands were on hers and how his body fit with hers.
     He set down the piping bag, grabbing her hand and twirling Evangeline around, leaning her against the counter. "Happy?"
      "You have no idea."
      Jacks leaned in close, close enough that they were breathing the same breaths. His lips were dangerously close to hers. "Remember your part of the deal."
      Another night of you being mine.
      Evangeline hadn't a problem with it. She was already his, anyway.
      "I couldn't forget."
      Jacks laced his fingers with hers again, leading her to his room. On their way, Evangeline pulled him to a stop.
      "Mistletoe, Jacks."
      He looked up quickly at the strategically placed mistletoe above their heads. His eyes creased with worry. "Little Fox-"
      Evangeline stood on her tip-toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, letting her lips linger on his cool skin. She hadn't known whether or not a lip-on-lip kiss would follow them outside the Hollow, and she didn't want Jacks to have to deal with that guilt, so she opted for his cheek instead. Evangeline had desperately wanted to feel his lips against hers. She wanted to have a true mistletoe experience with Jacks. But, as fate allowed, Evangeline would settle for a peck on the cheek.
      "There," Evangeline whispered as she pulled away. "Now you have a pleasant memory under the mistletoe."
      Jacks looked at her, really looked at her, with a vulnerability in his eyes that he rarely showed. His arms engulfed her and his head buried in her pink hair.
      "When we leave here for good, Little Fox, please do not forget this."
       "I'll never forget this," she mumbled into his shirt.
      He pulled away to look at her. "Mine."
      "I'm yours," Evangeline repeated as she had a few nights ago.
      Jacks scooped her up, carrying her to his bedroom, holding her close to his chest. She loved how delicately he held her, how careful he was.
When they reached his room, Jacks tugged on the hem of her dress in question.
Evangeline nodded wordlessly.
He lifted it off of her, leaving Evangeline in solely a tiny slip that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Although she was sure Jacks had seen much more of her when he bandaged her up a few nights ago. She reached for the buttons of his shirt, popping them off until the item of clothing was removed completely.
Jacks then laid her down, falling on the bed beside her.
Evangeline brushed a soft lock of blond hair from his face. "I know you hate Christmas for good reasons, Jacks. But the holidays are about spending time with people you care about. I know how good you are at hiding it, but I think deep down, you care about me, at least a little bit. So I hope I changed your mind about Christmas."
Jacks knotted his hands in her hair, bringing her head close. "I care about you a lot." He frowned. "More than I should."
Evangeline's eyes fluttered closed. "I care about you too."
"I know."
Their limbs began to tangle together as they shifted in the bed. Jacks held her as if she was about to be ripped from his grasp. Evangeline nuzzled her head in his chest, letting herself lull to sleep.
"Little Fox?"
"Mm?"
"Christmas isn't so bad."
"Jacks!" she whined against his skin.
"Fine. I like spending Christmas with you."
Jacks’ reluctant words reverberated through her head a million times. Finally. Evangeline had warmed him up to the holidays, even if it took a bit out of her. It made her cheeks hot that she knew she was the reason for his new take on Christmas.
She tilted her head up to look in his eyes. “I knew you’d come around.”
“Don’t you dare start up carolling, pet, or I will take back my previous statement. The tree in the main room will be destroyed before you wake up in the morning if you pipe up with those god awful tunes.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of annoying Jacks of the Hollow.”
His hand smoothed over her hair idly and his voice was soft from tiredness. “Good.”
Evangeline waited until his eyes fluttered shut before murmuring quietly, “Deck the halls with boughs of holly fa-la-la-la-la-”
The hand that had been in her hair moments before clamped over her mouth. “Shut up,” Jacks groaned.
She laughed behind his hand, amused by his distaste for carols. Once her giggles died down, he removed his hand and closed his eyes again.
“‘’Tis the season to be jolly-”
Jacks rolled them over so that she was underneath him, his chest over top of her mouth. Despite her voice being incredibly muffled, she still sang.
“Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.”
“Are you done yet?” Jacks moved into a plank position, uncovering her mouth.
“Maybe.”
“You are insufferable.”
Evangeline smiled brightly at him. “Will you change your mind if you found out I got you a present?”
One of his eyebrows raised. “When?”
“When you weren’t looking. It isn’t much, but it’s something.” Evangeline shifted to reach beside the bed, pulling the small box out of her dress pocket. “Merry Christmas, Jacks.”
Evangeline didn’t think she’d ever seen his features so soft. Blond eyebrows knitted together, and his eyes regarded the present with a delicacy he’d only ever used with her. He moved them so that they both sat up, hands carefully holding the box she handed him. She bit her lip in anticipation of his reaction.
“Open it!” She urged, hoping he wouldn’t hate the gift inside.
Jacks pulled the ribbon around the box until it untied, popping the lid open and peering inside. His lips curved into a smile.
“I couldn’t think of what to get you, but you’re always dressing fancy, so when I saw those golden apple cuff links, I immediately thought of you.” Evangeline watched as his finger brushed over the cuff links curiously. “Everyone deserves a Christmas present, no matter how far down they are on the naughty list.”
His eyes flashed to hers, amusement laced in his expression. Still, Jacks hadn’t said a word.
“Well? Do you like them?” Evangeline demanded, palms beginning to sweat. She hoped from the bottom of her heart he adored them. That every time he would wear them, he’d think of her. His Little Fox.
“I do.”
Jacks spoke those two words with so much gentleness, yet so much force that made Evangeline believe there were a billion other things he wanted to say.
He set his gift on his nightstand, pulling Evangeline back down into a lying position. Jacks moved his lips over her neck, sucking and biting at her skin. She let out a moan at the feeling, at how fast he could send her brain into a frenzy.
“Thank you, Little Fox.” His words tickled her neck.
She hadn’t thought him capable of the words thank you.
“I’m glad you like them,” she whispered back.
Evangeline swore to never forget how soft he was at the Hollow. With her. How his expression turned so breathtaking when he looked at his present. At her. How badly Evangeline had wished she was his true love. She finally let herself fall asleep, a deathly pair of lips on her mind as sleep claimed her.
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Jacks looked up at the winter night sky sourly, wondering if the stars were laughing at him. How many times had they watched happily ever after be wretched from his hands so despicably?
This one hurt the most.
His teeth clashed together as Jacks grind his jaw, thinking of the way Evangeline had been taken from him. Jacks had briefly pondered over if things could have been different if he’d realized Donatella hadn’t meant to him what he thought she did sooner.
He’d never loved Donatella. She was never his true love. That Jacks was sure of, he felt it all the way down to his cold bones.
Evangeline. Sweet Evangeline.
Nothing had ever meant as much to him as his Little Fox did.
Jacks touched his golden apple cuff links, taking a small comfort in how the cold metal felt against his finger. He had many regrets over all of the things he never said to Evangeline. He especially wished he’d told her how much the gift meant to him. How much she meant to him.
No one had given him anything remotely close to a present in centuries. Jacks couldn’t even remember the last time someone had did something selfless for him, like giving him a present. It meant Evangeline cared about him, almost as much as he cared for her.
She hadn’t even done it in the presence of the Mirth stone. She’d been far from it when retrieving his cuff links. Evangeline had simply wanted to give him a Christmas gift.
Jacks was taken from his thoughts as the crunching of boots trekking through snow hinted at his ears. He turned towards her, hidden by the brick building beside him and the darkness it provided.
She sniffed loudly, the back of her hand coming up to wipe her nose.
“Nothing makes sense,” she cried to the sky. “Things aren’t adding up, no matter how hard I try. Every time I think I start to remember something important, it’s like I run into a wall!”
Jacks wanted to go to her, pull her close, whisper in her ear that it would be alright. How he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. He’d torture whoever tried to lay a finger on his Little Fox.
“Apollo says he loves me, and I love him, even if I can’t remember. But… that feels like a kind of thing that the heart would remember. I just feel so alone. So empty. I don’t even know if I should trust him. He is my husband, so I should.”
Evangeline kicked the snow in frustration. “I don’t even know who I’m talking to. The stars?” She laughed humourlessly. “It just truly feels like I have no one.”
You have me, Little Fox.
Evangeline spun around. “Who said that?”
Fuck. He hadn’t meant to project his thoughts.
“Hello?”
Jacks closed his eyes, leaning into the wall so Evangeline couldn’t see him. When he first discovered she didn’t remember him, Evangeline became terrified of him. He was a fool to think Time let him off of the hook for how much pain he suffered. A bloody fool.
Jacks swore to himself he’d do whatever it took to return Evangeline’s memories to her. He would disembowel whoever had done this to her. Jacks vowed to become their worst nightmare. He would become the exact monster the stories about Fates made him out to be.
He heard Evangeline sigh. “Now I’m crazy, too.”
He felt sick for her. Jacks knew this was ultimately better than her being dead, but why couldn’t he just be happy for once? Jacks always knew Time would never have allowed them to exist, he should have never let himself hope that it might be different.
Hope. Hopeful Evangeline.
Jacks remembered when he was like her. Back before he realized he was never meant to be happy. Not for long, at least.
But he was happy with her. It was why he knew, in the end, they would never work. Curses couldn’t be deceived. They knew the truth. No matter how much one tried to hide it.
It was one week and one day from the end of Cold Season, marking it Christmas Eve. In a perfect world, he and Evangeline would be at the Hollow, curled up by the fireplace. Jacks would be kissing her breathless, and her heart would still be beating, beating fast for him. His would do the same.
He’d get her a gift that she’d squeal about, blushing furiously like the helpless romantic she was. They would both be happy together.
Instead they were here, in this awful mess.
“Evangeline, my heart, there you are!”
Jacks had felt the overwhelming urge to slash a knife through Apollo’s throat, to watch him beg and bleed mercilessly for how he was taking advantage of his Evangeline-
“Apollo! Sorry, I just… wanted to catch snowflakes on Christmas Eve.”
Apollo wrapped his arms around Evangeline’s waist, pulling her flush against him. Jacks should have walked away, saved himself from this pain. But it was as he told Evangeline before; broken hearts constructed masochists.
Apollo laughed. “How darling you are. Come inside, we’re about to sing holiday carols by the piano.”
Jacks remembered when Evangeline sang for him. She did it to annoy him, but Jacks always looked forward to her pushing his buttons. He would listen to every foul, off pitch, Christmas carol Evangeline sung if it meant that she would remember him.
Jacks had a fleeting idea.
Don’t trust him, Little Fox. He is not your friend. He is not your lover-
“That sounds lovely, Apollo.” Evangeline’s words were loud and held a warning to them.
It meant she heard him.
He just hoped she would listen.
Jacks really needed to stop hoping.
He watched as Apollo led Evangeline inside, a wet sensation trailing down his cheek as Jacks’ eyes burned.
Using the back of his palm to rub at it, his eyes quickly caught the gold flecked blood that now stained his skin. Jacks hadn’t even realized he was crying.
His breath shook as he inhaled. He closed his eyes, the image of Evangeline flashed before him. Jacks imagined her saying don’t lose hope, Jacks. Not when you just got it back.
There was nothing of equal value to him than her. He established that already. Jacks needed to get a grip of himself.
He would find Honora. She would be the best person to go to when it came to cures to curses like this. Although every time he seeked Honora’s help, it always ended miserably. Fate be damned. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Jacks would rack in his favours he built up over the years, and fuck it, Jacks was going to hope.
His fingers traced over his apple cuff links.
This Christmas would not be his and Evangeline’s last.
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pathologicalreid · 3 months
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stuck between a rock and a hard place | S.R.
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You, an undercover agent, uncover a hidden secret of the country's largest operation, putting your life in danger and under the protection of the BAU.
who? spencer reid x fem!FBI!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, hospitals, medical inaccuracy, drugs, sex crimes/trafficking, attempted sa, reader works in sex crimes. mentions foyet and also 6x24 (supply and demand). established relationship. word count: 7.7k a/n: this has been sitting in my wip folder for far too long. i am now emotionally attached to these two. i will write more of this specific pairing because now all i want is for them to be happy.
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Spencer
It wasn’t every day that men and women in suits piled into the BAU carrying evidence boxes, everyone stood up at their desks. Spencer watched as Andi Swann followed in behind the other agents, not even bothering to greet the team as she went straight to Emily’s office.
Prentiss opened the door, letting Andi in before beckoning for Reid to join them. This had to be about you.
Ignoring the way his heart rate spiked, Spencer stood up from his desk and went up to Emily’s office. On the other side of the bullpen, the rest of the team filed into the roundtable room.
“Spencer, have a seat,” Emily offered, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of her desk.
Glancing at Agent Swann, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “No, I’ll stand.”
Andi cleared her throat, looking at Spencer, she spoke, “Y/N missed her last two check-ins. As her next of kin, I need to notify you to let you know that as of now, the FBI is considering her missing.”
He wanted to be angry. He wanted so badly to be mad, but he’d seen this before. Years ago, an agent in Andi’s unit missed her check-ins and the BAU helped find her. More than that, he knew how much Andi cared about her agents, so he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad.
“Section Chief Cruz has asked that the BAU help to recover Y/N,” Emily said, looking at Spencer. “You know I have to tell you that you can’t be on this case,” she explained, leaning against her desk, eyes flickering as she tried to read Spencer’s expression.
Taking a deep breath, Spencer looked at Emily, “Y/N’s gone missing, and I’m not allowed to help look for her?”
Sympathetically, Prentiss shook her head, dark hair swaying with the movement. “You know it’s a conflict of interest to be involved with a loved one’s case.”
“Isn’t that kind of what the BAU does?” He could’ve rambled off a list of BAU agents who worked on cases involving their loved ones – including himself and Emily.
Turning to face Agent Swann, Emily suggested she join the rest of the team in the roundtable room. She waited until the door was closed before speaking again, “When’s the last time you saw Y/N?”
Closing his eyes, he remembered the morning of the day you left, the both of you had stayed up late as if you could delay your departure, but the last time he saw you was when he dropped you off at the Sex Crimes Unit before making his way up to the Behavioral Analysis Unit. “We haven’t even spoken since she left,” he answered, almost a month ago now.
“Is there a chance she tried to reach you or her family?” Emily asked. She had to ask, he knew that, but it didn’t make the questions any less ridiculous to him.
Shaking his head, he began to pace around the office, “No, she wouldn’t have done that. She follows the undercover playbook obsessively. She always said freestyling was like signing your death certificate.” He tried. He tried to get you to leave him breadcrumbs, but you never did.
Nodding, Emily watched as he paced back and forth “When did you get married?”
Pressing his lips into a thin white line, he stopped in his tracks, “When I came back after The Believers. It was the next day.” You had offered to sleep on the couch in an attempt to give him space when he asked you to go to the courthouse with him. That was two months ago now.
He didn’t want space. Not from you. Never from you.
Finally, he sat down.
“Did you tell anyone?” Emily asked, sitting down in the chair next to him. “Did you have a witness to sign your marriage certificate?”
Nodding, Spencer reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and produced three rings, his wedding ring, your engagement ring, and your wedding band. You didn’t have the time to get them soldered together yet. “Rossi was our witness,” he responded, “He was the only one who answered his phone.�� He slipped his ring on and closed his fist around your two rings.
After a moment, Emily stood, “I’m going to speak with the rest of the team, but I won’t tell them anything I don’t think is pertinent to the case.” Which was her way of saying ‘Your secret is safe with me.’ “Stay in here as long as you need, Spence,” she offered before walking out, shutting the door tightly behind her.
He thought of the last night you were together. Spencer tried to check in with you, he told you that if your job ever became too much, you just had to tell him, and he’d be there. What he neglected to tell you was that he was beginning to feel like your job was too much for him.
You had given him the opportunity to hold you close, and instead, he let you slip through his fingers.
Opening his fist, he looked down at your rings and the indent they had left on his palm, slipping them back into his pocket before he walked over to the roundtable room. Everyone paused what they were doing to look up at him.
Spencer just shrugged and looked at Emily, “I can’t just do nothing.”
In response, Emily nodded solemnly and suggested he go through the case files with Matt.
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It had been hours. The sun had set, jackets had been shed, and takeout had been ordered. The clock behind him showed it was nearly midnight, meaning it had been almost two days since anyone had last heard from you.
“Oh god,” Penelope said, her voice cutting into the thick silence of the roundtable room. Her fingers began frantically typing on her laptop.
Spinning in the office chair, Spencer wheeled over so he could look at the screen, vaguely aware of Emily hovering above him, “What is it? What did you find?”
She hit the keyboard so hard he thought they might break, but she answered, “The trauma center at Johns Hopkins reported a Jane Doe brought in a few hours ago. She matches Y/N’s description.”
“Did they run prints?” Andi asked, of course, there would be red tape if the hospital tried to run your prints, seeing as you were undercover.
Another tap and dozens of files opened, “It looks like she went right into surgery. Uh, the EMTs reported she was listing off a string of numbers when they brought her in… 265D019Z?”
Spencer swallowed thickly, “That’s Y/N’s badge number.”
Shaking her head, JJ looked over at the map of DC on the wall, “It’s a two-hour drive to Baltimore from here.”
“But it’s a thirty-minute flight, Reid, Tara, Swann, and Alvez go. The rest of us will look into what happened from here,” Emily doled out responsibilities, nodding at everyone as the team broke.
Spencer stayed still, still looking at Penelope’s screen, his eyes flickering over the documents. Words jumped out at him, drugged, punctured, and knife. It made his stomach churn. How had you gotten to Baltimore? Your unit had you set up in an apartment near the Hill. When did you travel from the district to Baltimore?
The thirty-minute flight felt like it was hours long, the drive from the airstrip to the hospital dragged on, but thankfully Emily had called the hospital ahead of time to let them know who you were and who was coming for you.
A doctor stopped the four of you from going into the room, a police officer was already stationed outside of the room, and the blinds were closed. Please, Spencer wanted to plead, please just let me see her.
“She’s weak, she just came down from recovery and she hasn’t fully woken up yet,” the doctor said, placing her hands on her hips. “I can’t in good faith let you go in there and badger her with questions. Not with no one in there to focus on her well-being,” she ordered. The doctor stared the four of them down with piercing gray eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Spencer peeked through the doorway when a nurse exited your room. “She’s my wife, I’ll advocate for her,” he responded, hoping the doctor would let him through. He could feel Tara and Luke staring, but he didn’t care.
Nodding, the doctor continued sizing Reid up, “Alright, but just you, for now. She’s not awake enough to be questioned anyway.” Stepping to the side, the doctor let Spencer through before blocking the doorway to everyone else.
In the worst way possible, you took his breath away. Your skin was sallow, you had an IV, nasal cannula, and a chest tube out the left side. Walking to your right, he took a seat next to you, taking your hand in his and pressing a gentle kiss to your bloodied knuckles – evidence that you had put up one hell of a fight. “Oh sweetheart, what did they do to you?” He whispered even though he knew you wouldn’t answer.
Reaching over you, he smoothed your hair from your face, your skin was clammy, probably as a result of blood loss. It looked like they were still transfusing, so you had probably lost a considerable amount of blood.
Shuffling the seat closer to you, Spencer took your hand in his. The doctor came back in holding a tablet, “Dr. Reid?”
He hummed in response, not daring to take his eyes off of you. “What happened to her? Why did she need surgery?”
“She had been bleeding out in an alley, according to the police officers who reported to the scene. The other agents are talking to them now,” the doctor said, tapping a few buttons on the tablet. “She had been stabbed several times in the upper left side, we went in to repair damage to her spleen, liver, and lung. There was some strain to her heart, it appears she was drugged before she was stabbed.”
He intently watched the steady rise and fall of your chest before he spoke up again, “Is she going to be okay?”
Setting the tablet down, the doctor paused before answering, “We’ll know more when she wakes up.”
Spencer leaned back in the chair, finally taking his eyes off of you and looking at the doctor, “Was there anything… did they…” He felt ridiculous, having spent the better part of his adult life in the BAU, and he couldn’t even put the words together.
To his relief, the doctor shook her head, “There were no injuries that suggested she was sexually assaulted.”
Reading the doctor’s badge, Spencer nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Herman.”
“Hit the call button when she wakes up, we’ll need to evaluate her pain and other treatment,” the doctor said, gathering her things before walking out of the room, and shutting the door behind her.
Spencer kept his eyes on you, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently, every once in a while, his phone rang, but he didn’t have the energy to talk on the phone. When his phone buzzed, he pulled it out of his pocket and checked the messages.
Penelope Garcia: How is she? Spencer Reid: Still sleeping. Penelope Garcia: How are you? Spencer Reid: Not sure.
Setting his phone on the table, screen down, he watched you again, every once in a while, your nose would twitch, or your eyes would flutter. Every time he would hold his breath, hoping you’d open your eyes.
He waited, and about an hour after he had arrived, a small, keening noise came from you. His head snapped up at the sound, your eyes were still closed, but you were moving. “Y/N?” He whispered hesitantly, not wanting to wake you up if you weren’t ready. Slowly, he stood up from the chair, not sure if he should keep waiting or if he should hit the call button.
You were muttering something, talking to someone in your sleep, when suddenly you jerked away. Instinctively, Spencer put his hands on your shoulders to stop you from tearing your stitches, and it was that touch that caused your eyes to snap open. “No, no, no, no,” you babbled, frantically looking around the hospital room.
“Y/N,” Spencer said, keeping his hands on your shoulders, “You’re safe, I’m here. You’re at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore.”
With wide eyes, you looked up at him and mouthed the word ‘Baltimore.’ As if you were trying to figure out how you had ended up in Baltimore, something the BAU still hadn’t figured out. “I thought I…” Your voice was nothing more than a rasp, but with the bruises he could now see littering your neck, that didn’t surprise him much. “Did you see it?”
Spencer pushed the call button without you noticing, “Did I see what, love?” He asked, keeping his voice low as he gently sat down on the edge of your hospital bed.
You furrowed your eyebrows and looked around the room, “Is Andi here?" Your voice was tight, like you were struggling to breathe. "I need to talk to Andi.”
Helplessly, Spencer watched as the number signifying your heart rate jumped, “Not just yet, alright?” He said, looking up when the doctor and a nurse came through the door.
The doctor introduced herself and started trying to get you to even out your breathing, one of the monitors was beeping like crazy until the nurse hit a button on it.
All he could do was watch, making sure he didn’t get in the way. Listening in to words about medications and making a mental note to research everything. “How’s your pain, Y/N? On a scale from one through ten.” The doctor asked, standing at the foot of the bed.
“Like a seven? When I breathe it’s more like a nine,” you answered, every word was strained. The doctor flashed a light in your eyes, “That isn’t helping,” you said through gritted teeth.
The doctor said something to the nurse, prompting her to nod before pushing something through your IV. After a few moments, Spencer watched as your heart rate lowered and your body visibly relaxed into the mattress. You nodded softly when the nurse asked if that was better.
Dr. Herman left and the nurse scrawled some notes down on your chart, introducing herself as Amelia before she left as well.
“Oh no,” you whispered, looking in the direction of the door. “Is the whole BAU here? How badly did I fuck up?”
Quickly, Spencer shook his head, “You didn’t, at all. It’s just me, Tara, and Luke,” he tried to reassure you as best he could without knowing the full story. “Do you feel up to talking?” He asked, smoothing your hair away from your face.
You nodded gently, “I need to talk to Andi. Alone, if it’s okay with you.”
“I can wait right outside in the hallway,” he offered, holding your hand in his and skimming the pad of his thumb over top of your knuckles.
You hummed contentedly, “Could you see if I can have water?”
Grateful to have something to do, Spencer stood up, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be right back.” He stepped out of the room, garnering the attention of the agents who were waiting in the hallway, all of them staring at Spencer expectantly, “Andi, she wants to talk to you.”
The Unit Chief nodded and disappeared into the room, leaving the door open just a crack.
He was gone for three minutes, that was the time it took him to walk to the nurses’ station and ask if you were allowed liquids and back, but when he returned the door to your room was wide open. “Where did they go?” He asked, looking over at Tara.
She was still leaning against the taupe hospital walls before nodding in the direction of the red exit sign, “Swann was in there for maybe two minutes before she came out in a huff, she took Alvez with her.” Lewis spoke calmly like it didn’t necessarily mean anything to her.
But it did to him. Walking back into your room, he stood at the side of your bed, “What did you tell Andi that you didn’t want me hearing?”
“Huh?” You sounded tired – rightfully so. Your pupils were dilated, which told Spencer that the drugs that the doctors had given you were working.
It comforted him that you weren’t in as much pain, but you were still hiding something from him. “You asked me to leave while you talked to Andi because you didn’t want me to hear what you were telling her. What did you tell her?”
Your face softened as your eyes filled with a different kind of hurt, “Don’t profile me.” You were too tired to hide the pain in your voice.
He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, “Don’t lie to me,” He countered. You were lying by omission, but what was worse was that you might’ve been putting yourself in danger.
“Please don’t leave me,” you whimpered.
Spencer’s chest tightened as he watched your eyes fill with tears, he sat down on the edge of your bed and took your hand in his. “I’m not going anywhere. Why would you think I’d leave you, darling?”
Your eyes were half-closed, “because you…” your voice trailed off and he squeezed your hand to get your attention. “When Scratch had Emily, you wanted to kill him,” you murmured.
The air had been knocked out of his lungs. You hadn’t been talking about a divorce. You were saying that you could identify your assailant, and you didn’t want Spencer to know. “I won’t go,” he whispered, “I’ll be right here.”
“It was Jake,” you mumbled, barely able to open your mouth as you fought your exhaustion.
That hadn’t been the answer he was expecting. He swallowed thickly, “Jake did this to you?” He asked slowly, looking at your hand, your fingers intertwined.
Minutely, you shook your head, “Jake blew my cover, Spence.” Yawning, you proceeded to mumble about him doing it on purpose.
Untangling your fingers, Spencer reached out and smoothed your hair away from your forehead, “Get some sleep, angel. I love you.”
You hummed an ‘I love you’ back, and the next moment your eyes were shut.
A nurse came in and asked for a moment while she checked the output of your chest tube, ushering Spencer and Tara out. “Okay, I’ll bite, who’s Jake?” Tara asked, putting a hand on her hip as she looked expectantly at Reid.
“Jake is her partner. When she’s not undercover and just out in the field, they’re partners,” Spencer explained.
Tara pursed her lips thoughtfully, “So, he would’ve known that she was undercover.”
Nodding as the newly added weight of the situation threatened to pull him down, Spencer turned and faced you, watching as the nurse examined you as you slept. “He blew her cover on purpose,” he reached up and rubbed his eye. Jake knew exactly what he was doing when he blew your cover, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you begged Spencer not to leave you.
“We have to go back in and ask her more questions,” Tara said.
Usually, Spencer agreed with Tara, but not this time. He saw the monitors you were hooked up to, he read your chart, and he watched the concerned looks on the nurses’ faces. They all told him that you weren’t stable enough to be speaking, let alone a cognitive interview. “No,” Spencer said finally.
Clearing her throat lightly, Tara stood next to him in the doorway, “We can’t let them get away, Reid.”
“And I can’t lose her,” he rebutted, ignoring the way his voice broke in his desperation. 
Stepping back slightly, the other agent nodded in understanding. “Okay, I’ll call Emily. You go sit with her.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice; he pulled a chair up impossibly close to your bedside and draped his jacket over the back of it before loosening his tie and sitting down.
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You
When you woke up, it was still dark outside, but the bright lights of the hospital room made it hard for you to get any real rest. You were pleased to find that, true to his word, Spencer was right next to you when he woke up.
He was sleeping, resting his head on his hand with his wrist bent awkwardly. “Spence,” You whispered, clearing your throat, “Spencer.” You couldn’t reach out to touch him, but you wanted to wake him up, so his wrist wasn’t sore.
Jolting awake, he looked at you, “Hey, did you just wake up? How do you feel?”
It was a weird question, you felt like an absolute dumpster fire. “Better,” you whispered, “less hurt, achier. Sore. I don’t know, my head feels fuzzy,” you rambled, trying to move higher up on the hospital bed, but being limited by the chest tube. “How long do I have to have it?” You asked, staring at the plastic tubing as if you could make it go away via the power of suggestion.
“At least through the night, but it could be longer,” he said, reaching over and smoothing over the edges of your blanket. “Do you know what they gave you?” Spencer asked, shaking out his wrist.
You hummed in response, “No, it was intravenous though. They were big on amphetamines, but it didn’t feel like a stimulant. Benzos maybe,” you told him, your voice was soft. The pain in your throat had subsided after being intubated during surgery, but you were still swollen from when Cal grabbed you.
None of this made sense to you. The one thing that bothered you more than anything else was why Cal stopped when Jake said to. It couldn’t have been as simple as the money.
Spencer must’ve noticed you burrowing into your memories, “You remember everything?” He asked gently.
He knew what he was implying, in more cases involving severe trauma, victims generally remember everything or remember nothing. It was lucky for law enforcement when they remembered, but bad for the victims. Bad for you. “Mostly,” you breathed, avoiding his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you said softly.
“Why? You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he tried to reassure you, reaching out and taking your hand in his.
You hummed, “I don’t remember anything after they drugged me, just the stuff before. Just the…” Your voice trailed off as you returned to your confusion. “Who’s still here that I can talk to?”
He squeezed your hand comfortingly, “Do you feel up to it?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice,” you answered him despondently.
Spencer nodded before he got up from his chair, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before he stepped out into the hallway and let Tara in.
The agent smiled at you gently, “Hey, Y/N, how are you feeling?” She asked, sitting down at a free chair at the end of your hospital bed, leaving the chair at your side available for Spencer to return to.
You gave your best attempt at returning the smile before you answered, “I think I’m going to make it.”
As Spencer sat back down next to you, placing a water cup on your bedside table, Tara opened a file and looked through it, “Can you start by telling me a little bit about your assignment? You were undercover as… Barbara?” She read from the file.
Nodding slowly, you held out your hand for Spencer to hold, “Yeah, but they called me Babs.”
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Three days ago...
You shifted self-consciously in the gold dress. It was a silky, slippery number that displayed more than you particularly liked. Spencer would probably like it, but he’d hate how uncomfortable you were in it.
Inadvertently, you smiled at just the thought of your husband. It was late, so he was probably at home, reading next to the fireplace. Maybe he was on a case, off somewhere in the United States and saving lives.
It had been twenty-nine days since you had last seen him.
“You look gorgeous tonight, Babs,” Johnathan McCallister, better known as Cal, told you, reaching out and placing a hand on either one of your shoulders before placing a kiss on both cheeks.
Bashfully, you smiled at him, “You’re too good to me, Cal. I can’t believe you got me in!” Deep down, you knew tonight could be the night, you would be able to take down The Program. At least the D.C. chapter of it.
When it was over, you could be Y/N Reid again, instead of Barbara McFarston.
The Program took women around your age and sold them into sex slavery. The chapter in Washington D.C. was one of the most active, which made sense when you looked around the room and saw a majority of the people were elected officials – men and women alike.
Andi Swann had assured you that taking down this chapter would create a domino effect, causing the other chapters to topple. According to her, if you could take down D.C., Miami, and Los Angeles, The Program would most likely cease to exist.
Turning to ask Cal about the selection tonight, you were startled to see familiar gray eyes on your companion’s other side. You felt your façade slip, but only for a second before you pasted a brilliant smile back on your face.
You tilted your head to the side, “And who might you be?” You asked Jake, wondering if Andi had sent him in to get a status report on you.
“Jake Cohn,” he answered, and goosebumps spread over your exposed skin at his answer. He should’ve said William Jacoby, that was his identity for this case.
In horror, you watched as Jake leaned in to whisper something in Cal’s ear, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. You bit your tongue as Cal wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in tightly, “Let’s talk.”
You stumbled a little over your own feet and looked at Jake with wide eyes, the leader forcefully shoved you into a private room, one that would probably light up like a Christmas tree under a blacklight. “What’s wrong, Cal?” You asked, standing up straight.
He reached over and grabbed the back of your neck, gathering the hair at the nape of your neck in his fist. The force of it made you scrunch your shoulders up, “You’re a fucking fed?” He seethed, tossing you to the ground in one swift movement.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to convince him. Tried to flip the script so that Jake was the liar instead of you.
Cal grabbed your throat next, holding you down on a booth seat. “Oh, Y/N… Jake’s been one of my best employees for years.” He said, chuckling at the betrayal in your eyes, he only laughed more when you kneed him in the gut. “Oh, I like it when they fight back.”
You shut your eyes tightly as you heard the clinking of his belt buckle, but they snapped back open when you heard the word, “Stop.”
“What? Did you want first go on her?” Cal asked, wiping his cheek – you must’ve scratched him in your struggle.
Jake cleared his throat and met your eyes, “We should keep her clean, you know?” He said, and for a moment you thought he was actually trying to help you, “Think about how much a clean fed would go for here. Especially in D.C.”
And just like that, your hopes were dashed, “he’s right,” you told Cal, trying to formulate a plan.
“Shut up, whore,” Cal spat, causing you to involuntarily flinch.
At least there’s nothing he could call you that you hadn’t heard before, in your line of work, people got very creative.
Cal looked at you, inspecting your neck where he had grabbed you before, “You’ll make me a lot of money, won’t you?” He said, rubbing a hand up and down your arm soothingly before poking you with a needle.
Your legs gave out beneath you, but Jake caught you before you hit the ground. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think he’d do this. I thought he’d kick you out, but I didn’t think…”
Looking up at him, your throat burned, and you weren’t sure if you were going to cry or throw up, but you shut your eyes. “No, you didn’t.” You don’t just casually tell the leader of a sex trafficking ring that the person with them is an FBI agent.
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Present
“And that’s the last thing you remember?” Tara asked, scribbling something down in your file.
You nodded absentmindedly, “I think…” Your voice trailed off as you looked at Spencer, “I think Jake might’ve been in charge the whole time. Pulling the strings from behind the curtain while he waited for the perfect time to catch me off guard. That’s the only reason Cal would’ve backed off when Jake told him to,” You proposed your theory, not missing the way Spencer was holding your hand a little tighter than before.
Tara’s brows were raised, “Jake Cohn has worked in the bureau for almost a decade, it would be hard for him to evade detection for that long.”
“But he knows exactly how to evade it,” you rebutted. “He’d know all of the tricks from Sex Crimes and all of my tricks. He- He set me up,” you realized.
Spencer turned around and looked at your monitor, “Okay, let’s take a break. We can talk more later.”
Getting up, Tara let Spencer know she was going to call the rest of the team before she stepped back into the hallway.
“My chest hurts,” you said, hating how your voice sounded like a whine.
In response, Spencer smoothed your hair back in an attempt to comfort you. “Your heart is racing,” he whispered, “Take a deep breath, okay?”
You nodded slowly, breathing in deeply through your nostrils and letting the air collect in your lungs before blowing it out your mouth. Looking up at Spencer, worry plain in his eyes no matter how hard he tried to hide it, you came to a decision, “Spence?”
He bowed slightly closer to you so he could hear you better, “What is it, love?” He moved his hand, so it was gently cupping your cheek.
Leaning into his touch, you whispered, “It’s too much.” The only thing you had left was to hope he knew what you were talking about, the words were too hard right now, but you felt them contributing to the burning in your chest.
“Okay,” he answered. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about disappointing anyone.”
You practically melted back into the hospital bed; the weight of your job eased off of you. Nodding, you closed your eyes, “It’s good, this is good. I just feel crazy, but a good crazy.”
Spencer smiled at you, “Okay crazy,” he whispered, “I’m going to-“ He was abruptly cut off by his phone ringing, furrowing his brows, he swiped the screen and held the phone up to his ear, “Hey, JJ.”
Cocking your head to the side, you tried to listen to JJ’s side of the conversation, but either she was speaking quietly, or Spencer had his phone volume really low. From the way Spencer’s jaw tightened, you knew that this couldn’t be anything good.
He looked at you before looking at the door, “Do you know where?” He said in a tone entirely unfamiliar to you, it was low and steely. Reaching over you, he nimbly pressed the call button on your bed, “Okay, keep me updated.”
“Spencer, what is going on?” You asked as the nurse came into your room, faltering for a moment as she looked at the two of you.
Placing a hand on the bar of your hospital bed, Spencer looked at the nurse, “Do you have somewhere secure she can be moved to?”
The nurse looked shellshocked, surely the FBI occupying the hospital wasn’t an everyday occurrence, “I don’t… I don’t think so?” She seemed unsure of herself.
“Spencer,” you repeated his name.
He turned to look at you, “Jake’s here and he’s looking for you.” Turning back to the nurse, he pointed at you, “She has to be moved.”
“I don’t… I’m just a student, my preceptor is taking a break. I could try to find-“ The nurse stammered nervously. “We don’t usually just move people.”
Nothing about this situation was usual, but one look at Spencer told you this was life or death. Your life or your death. You sighed in defeat, “This is really going to suck.” Reaching over to your side, you gripped the tube that had been draining blood from outside your lung and pulled it out. Like ripping off a band-aid.
In the process, you tore the stitches holding it in place and set off all kinds of alarms, leading to a crowd of nurses and doctors charging into the room.
As someone held pressure down on where you were bleeding, someone said something about moving you to a sterile procedure room, and the nursing student trailed along, whispering “That was the stupidest smart thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”
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Everything was blurry when you woke up next and, through the blinds, you could see that the sun was finally rising. The warm, orange light peeking through like lines on a piece of paper.
“Hey,” Spencer said from right next to you, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispered.
You looked away from him, back towards the blinds, “Will you open them?” You rasped, your throat felt raw, and your body felt heavy.
He got up and ambled over to the window, twisting the mechanism until the sun poured into your room. “How are you feeling?”
“Heavy,” you whispered, the mental weight of the past several days was threatening to take you down, but physically you felt like Atlas himself, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.
Spencer hummed in response, “They sedated you, standard procedure for people who rip their own chest tubes out.” He adjusted the way your gown rested on your shoulders, “Luckily you didn’t do too much damage.”
You took a deep breath and leaned your head so you could look out the window. The outside felt so foreign to you now, you couldn’t remember the last time you had breathed real, fresh air. “So, what is the damage?” Your voice was little more than a murmur but with just the two of you in your room, it wasn’t hard to hear.
“You’re going to be fine; they think the tube can go later today. Then they’ll evaluate whether enough you’re strong enough to go home, it’ll probably be another couple of days,” He explained to you, matching your gentle tone. “Johnathan McCallister is in custody, and Jake Cohn is dead,” he told you, studying your face for any kind of reaction.
Closing your eyes, you felt white hot tears stream down your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, laughing a little despite yourself. He probably thought you were losing it, crying over the death of someone who had nearly had you murdered.
The edge of your mattress dipped down slightly, and you opened your eyes to see Spencer sitting next to you, “You don’t need to be sorry, my love.” Gently, he rested a hand on your hip, skimming his thumb over the rough fabric of your hospital gown, “He was like family to you. I’m not sorry he’s dead – I’m not. I am sorry for that loss, though.”
Nodding, you felt it as your face crumpled, leading Spencer to lean down and hug you as best he could. “I’m sorry I scared you,” you said as he pulled away.
Your furrowed your brows in confusion as he reached into his pocket and produced your wedding ring, taking your left hand, he slid the rings on, “For better or for worse, right?”
A small smile grew on your face as the gem on your finger shimmered in the morning light, “for richer or for poorer,” you continued.
“In sickness and in health,” Spencer whispered, eyes flickering around the hospital room.
You reached up a shaky hand and cupped his cheek with your palm, “to love and to cherish.” You said, feeling a dopey, lovesick grin blooming on your face.
He turned his head and kissed the center of your palm, “until parted by death,” he finished, taking your hand in his.
“No dying,” you insisted, feeling your energy begin to drain, you started to understand why the doctors didn’t want you going home for a few days.
Spencer hummed in response, “You almost did. If you hadn’t been found when you were-“ his voice broke off and you had to tear your eyes away from his for a moment. “I still can’t believe you chose that,” he whispered, looking at you like you hung the moon.
Shrugging as if it was nothing, you melted back into the pillows, “I had a split second to weigh my options – get sold into sex slavery or get stabbed in the chest.”
“A catch-22,” he nodded, wrapping his head around your impossible decision. You couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take until the fear in his eyes left.
You shifted a little in the hospital bed, the sheets rustling as you did, “We get it, you’ve read Joseph Heller.”
He smiled at that, the light teasing seemed to bring brightness to his face, “What is it about blood loss that makes you think you’re funny?”
Laughing lightly, you squeezed his hand as tightly as you could manage, “I am funny. And I’m tired.”
“Go back to sleep then, baby,” he said softly, “it’ll all be here when you wake up.”
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There was a party in your hospital room. It started with just Emily, coming in because you were finally up to seeing anyone other than Spencer, and it ended up being the entire BAU.
Someone had gone to the apartment and gathered clothes for you so that, once your chest tube was removed, you could put on real clothes. So now you were sitting up, wearing sweatpants and a ratty old college sweatshirt, and laughing with the BAU. You were leaning heavily on Spencer, who was also sitting on your hospital bed, but he didn’t seem to have a problem with keeping you steady.
Luckily for you, no one in the BAU wanted to ask about what had happened on your assignment, they were more interested in the rings that adorned your and Spencer’s fingers.
“I still can’t believe you two secretly got married,” Penelope said. “Of all of the times for me to not answer my phone.”
Next to her, Luke shrugged, “Honestly, I can believe it. It feels like a very Y/N and Reid thing to do.”
Gently, Spencer rubbed your back. His hovering was quickly going to become insufferable, but right now you were welcoming every touch with open arms.
“Well, we’ll have a party for the two of you. When you’re up for it, of course,” JJ said, smiling from where she was standing next to Emily.
You wanted to shake your head and tell them that it really wasn’t necessary, but asking the BAU to refrain from throwing a party was like asking a shark to stop swimming. Instead of debating, you just smiled and bobbed your head.
Eventually, Andi showed up, just as you knew she would. “Hey, guys,” Emily nodded in the direction of the doorway, “Why don’t we go raid the hospital cafeteria?”
After a few more hugs, including a lingering one from Garcia, the BAU, save for your husband, filtered out, and Andi made her way to the foot of your bed. “Hey,” you said, your voice was soft.
Nine years. You had spent nine years in the sex crimes unit. Spencer had done the math, you’d spent approximately seventy-six percent of that time undercover, missing birthdays, holidays, not ever really looking forward to the future. Until now.
You, the most decorated member of the sex crimes unit, were leaving.
Suspiciously, you eyed the files in Andi’s arms, one was a case file, the other a plain manila folder. She silently handed you the case file, and you shared a look with Spencer before flipping it open. “The Program is gone?” You asked, your eyes skimming the folder.
Swann nodded, her brown hair swaying with the movement, “The arrest of the leader of the D.C. chapter greatly contributed to that, but it was the death of the ringleader that took the remainder of The Program down.”
Closing your eyes, you nodded as you tried to process what she was telling you. Jake had been in charge all along. “Andi, I-“
“It was your intel that did it,” she cut you off. “From your last several assignments, everything you collected directly contributed to the downfall of this trafficking network. One of the largest networks the FBI has ever seen.”
She handed you the next file, labeled with only your name. You flipped it open, well aware that Spencer was reading from over your shoulder. “I don’t qualify for retirement,” you told her, furrowing your eyebrows, and looking at the papers in front of you. You didn’t qualify for retirement, and yet, you were looking at a retirement offer.
Your unit chief nodded understandingly, “I pulled some strings, with some help. Collectively, Prentiss and I know a lot of people.”
Spencer placed a supportive hand on your back, and you looked up at Andi. “I’m only thirty-two?” You asked, it wasn’t a clarification, it was a question.
“And yet,” she answered, “you’ve done more for the Bureau than most agents could hope to do in their whole career. This plan came from the director, Y/N. He wanted you to have it.”
Shaking your head, you handed the folder over to your husband so he could look through it. “I don’t… can I think about it?”
“He’ll want an answer soon but talk it over and give me a call when you’ve come to a decision,” she said, grabbing her things and making her way to the door. “And Y/N?”
You lifted your head up to meet her eyes, “Yeah, Andi?”
She smiled at you, a rare, real smile from her, “Make the right decision for you. You have a small army ready to support you through everything.”
Slowly, your gaze followed her out the door, waiting until you heard the latch of the door secure. Spencer handed the folder back to you, “What do you want to do?”
You flipped through the folder again, it was a lot of money, and there were a few different distribution options, but it was more than you felt you’d ever need. “I don’t really feel like I deserve this,” you whispered, reaching your hand up and rubbing the back of your neck. “The Bureau doesn’t offer early retirement like this, not without extenuating circumstances,” you continued.
“They did it with Hotch,” Spencer said, reading the file over your shoulder.
Shaking your head, you leaned over to look at him, “That was way different, Haley was murdered by a serial killer.”
Spencer sighed, “I think you’re selling yourself short, darling. The Program was trafficking almost 12,000 people across the country. That’s almost 70 percent of the yearly total trafficking victims. You took them down,” he told you earnestly.
Your shoulders slouched forward, “I didn’t do it alone, though.”
“Didn’t you, though? They sent you in with no communication device, no emergency signal, and information that wasn’t even true. Your unit told you Johnathan McCallister was the leader of the ring, but it ended up being a decorated agent and you’re the one who figured that out,” Spencer spoke emphatically. “You almost died in the process, and now there are thousands of victims who are going to go home – all thanks to you.”
Wiping at your eyes, you looked at your husband, “You’re biased.” That felt true, but Spencer was the person who knew you best in the world.
“What’s holding you back?” He murmured gently, sweeping strands of your hair behind your ears.
Smiling unsurely, you closed your eyes, “Fear of the future. In the past nine years, the longest I’ve ever been home was four weeks. I don’t… What do you want me to do?”
He shook his head slowly, “it’s not my decision.” A diplomatic answer, you should’ve guessed.
“But what do you want me to do?” You pressed.
Sighing, you watched him weigh his options, “If my choices are you going back out into the field and getting hurt again, where maybe it doesn’t have this good of an outcome, or you, safe at home, where I get to see you more than approximately three months a year, then the choice is clear.”
When he laid it out for you like that, it was pretty clear. “Maybe I could finally see what all the BAU spouses are talking about. You know, how you’re never home,” you said. Some part of you always felt disconnected from the other BAU family members, Spencer wasn’t the one who was never home, you were.
Spencer laughed lightly, “We could celebrate your birthday together.” That was the one day you always missed. Almost six years together, and something always came up on your birthday.
“I’ve never had this before,” you whispered, there was still something about it that felt tentative, almost frail.
Smilingly softly, Spencer reached out and took your hand in his, “Had what before?”
You beamed, “A future to plan.” Everything was always laid out for you, every day was spent waiting for the next directive, a new assignment. “I mean, not in nine years.”
There were always dreams, late-night murmurs with Spencer about a house with a yard and kids running around, but they were just dreams. The nights when you were able to sleep next to each other. “Do you have plans for us?”
Nodding rapidly, you answered, “Oh yeah, you and me, I’ve got big plans for us.”
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popquizhot-shot · 5 months
Text
Magic
Moon Boys x reader<3
summary: you were married to Jake and after the events of moonknight, the boys get to know of jake and of you. Steven adores you but Marc just sees you as a friend. Right?
A/N: okay the timeline is a bit wonky but here's what i thought while writing the fic. Jake dated you for a year and a half before putting a ring on it. And you've been married for three years. You met Steven and Marc a year ago and have been dating Steven for eight months. Marc became friends with you a month after meeting you. please comment and reblog if you liked it!
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort
@jake-g-lockley
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Marc was a lot of things. Pig-headed, stubborn, horrible at communication, a fighter. But he wasn't arrogant He could admit it when he didn't know something.
But right now he knew one thing and one thing only, that Jake was a prime idiot.
Marc stayed in the background when Jake was fronting around you, most of the time. Not always, of course. He wasn't a perv and one to to intrude between a husband and a wife. But he knew you. So did Steven, and you knew them.
He'd considered you his friend. Maybe one of his best, just months after meeting you. You and him shared many a night after Jake's missions talking and watching movies, when your husband was knocked out. You made him fall in love with chai, something that knocked Steven's socks off and he'd taught you the basics of baseball so you weren't clueless when you watched baseball with him.
It wasn't always so nice.
"You're married?!"
"Yeah, what's your problem with that?" Jake had become defensive, he wouldn't let Marc or Steven breathe a single ill word towards you.
"No, it's no problem at all, pal." Marc seethed, outraged, "except for the fact that I was married to Layla! God what if she almost say you when we were married? No wonder it ended!"
"Fuck off, man. You know full well why your marriage didn't work out with Layla. And unlike her, I told my lady fucking everything. She knows everything, from the cave to the sarcophagus. So she knew what to do and what to be careful of, including you. So don't blame my marriage for the reason yours didn't work out."
This was when Steven had interjected, he was unsurprisingly on Jake's side.
"He's right, Marc. If his wife knows everything then you can't blame him, and it's honestly rather mean and unfair of you to be angry at someone you haven't even met."
It took a few hours for Marc to calm down, and actually, apologise to Jake.
Hesitantly, Jake offered, "Y'know, if you want you can meet her. She practically knows everything about you and uh, Steven's most probably seen her around. She goes to the museum every week."
"Wait a minute! That lady with the Van Gogh tote bag?"
"Yup."
"Oh wow! She's really sweet, and beautiful! Hell, mate. You scored."
Jake had to smile at that, he knew he scored with you. For the longest time he felt like you were too good for him and that someone as kind, clever, intelligent and beautiful as you shouldn't have had to settle for someone like him. But you'd kiss away every ill thought he had about himself and reassure him. Communication was a very, very vital and important part of the relationship and you had helped him learn that it wasn't selfish to voice his thoughts. Especially because he put everyone's needs before his for so long.
"I know, man."
Steven had readily agreed to front and meet you, and Marc was okay with being co-conscious during the interaction as well. So on one fine day, Jake had brought them to the house he considered his home. He worked to contribute to it's rent, and buy things for it and for you. It was home, after all. You were his home.
Marc didn't know what to expect but when Jake had stepped in and hung his jacket on the stand and taken his shoes off, footsteps could be heard running from the main bedroom and he saw you running straight into Jake's arms. Jake laughed wildly, picking you up and twirling you around, much to your delight as you kissed the life out of him.
When he put you down, he could get a clear glimpse of you. Your hair was messy and your t-shirt was rumpled. And when he saw you smile he knew why Jake had fallen in love with you. Why Steven thought you were beautiful and sweet. Verything about you screamed, home.
Your greeting to Jake threw both the boys off, "Who the fuck are you?"
Jake smirked, "The fuck you mean, ma?"
"I mean, who." you poked him once, "are." twice, "you?" thrice and Jake started giggling. Fucking giggling like some little schoolgirl. You laughed too, and hugged him tight.
"Hey, baby." he kissed your forehead and you smiled.
"Hi." you kissed his nose.
"I have two guys who'd like to meet you."he raised his eyebrows.
Your jaw dropped a little, "For real? Wait, you're being serious, you're not screwing with me?"
"Why would I screw with you, when I could just screw you?"
The men in his head and you all let out a simultaneous groan.
Steven met you first, and it went swell, you'd both bonded over history and literature. And a love for Taylor Swift. But that was a secret. You liked him a lot and he positively adored you.
Marc, on the other hand, was much more closed off, he'd be polite, but he'd be curt as well. A combination you didn't know was possible.
After a few weeks of trying to bond with him, resulting in almost a small meltdown. It had taken Jake being knocked out after a mission and being too tired to eat to actually get him to talk to you over a meal.
It was one of the best things he'd eaten in his goddamn life and the groan he'd let out after the first bite brought a laugh out of you.
So yes, Marc would consider you one of his best friends. Steven and you had started going out with each other a few months ago and it was going so well.
But not Marc.
Because he didn't like you like that.
Of course not, you were his friend.
You were his friend who made him laugh because you had the same dark sense of humour. You hugged him when he needed one but was too uptight to ask you. You, who googled the Cubs and learnt everything you could about them just so you could talk to him as well, the way you talked to Steven about Jane Austen and the Indus Valley.
He didn't know when it became something more to him.
And he didn't see how you'd look him at him when he laughed, or when he was focused on the TV, or when he made you tea the way you liked it, Jake had taught him how to do that.
No, to him, you were just his best friend.
And you were currently crying your eyes out because Jake and you had gotten into a huge fight. He'd missed your anniversary because of a mission and he was working with Hathor's avatar. He failed to mention the part where he was forced to pretend they were a thing to prevent being caught and you'd caught him smelling of her perfume and gotten rightfully furious.
Not because of her, but because he didn't tell you that it had been happening for a few days. That the week he'd spent away from you, he'd had to pretend he was someone else's and he was too scared to tell you. That's why you were mad, because you thought he didn't trust you.
You'd raised your voice as he turned his back on you and he turned around, face contorted in rage. Steven tried calming him down as he stalked over to you. You stood your ground, Jake would never lay a hand on you. You knew that. But it was what he said, that broke you.
"You're being a fucking nuisance. Instead of trying to understand, you're being more of a burden by finding shit to get mad at. Grow the fuck up."
That prime ass had the audacity to call you a burden. A nuisance.
And then he had the fucking nerve to leave and complete his mission and give control to Marc. Steven had chewed the fuck out of him and Marc would have loved to as well, but he needed to see you. See if you were okay.
As soon as he stepped in, he saw you on the sofa, rapidly wiping your tears away. You sagged again when you knew it was him. Somehow you always knew.
He furrowed his eyebrows at your disheveled state. Your eyes were swollen and wet with tears and you were breathing very heavily and in quick spurts.
"What do you need?" Marc asked you, sitting down beside you.
"C-can I have" you coughed, "a hug, Marc?" you said in a small voice, looking away.
Marc immediately moved to hug you close. Shushing you when you began to cry again.
What hurt was that he knew, and Jake knew, and Steven knew that you hated being a burden or an inconvenience to anyone. And today, the one man you trusted the most in this world had made you feel like that. And he couldn't even apologize.
'Jake you fucking idiot.' he rocked you a little, 'you better come out and fix this. she may be our friend but this is because of you, fix this.'
Jake remained silent in the reflection of the mirror next to the door. He looked wrecked at seeing you sob, and tears were falling down his own eyes.
'Mate.' Steven spoke up, he sounded mad, 'You made our girl cry. Stop being a fucking coward and fix this!'
When he was met with silence, Steven seethed, 'Marc, gimme the body.'
You knew exactly when it was Steven hugging you, and you kissed his cheek and breathed him in.
"Oh, love." he tried to comfort you, "I'm sorry. You're not a burden, I promise you." he kissed your forehead.
"I know that, Steven. I know I'm not a burden to you. I'm scared I'm becoming one to him. He doesn't even want to look at me!" you sniffed.
Steven glared at Jake in the mirror, who was wiping away his own tears.
Steven and Marc knew why Jake was so worked up. They knew that whoever Jake and Hathor's avatar was after called their bluff. They knew that those people had found the woman's partner and Jake was terrified for you and he couldn't even tell you because he never, ever wanted to be the reason for any feeling you had that wasn't bliss, happiness, content, or pleasure. And because he was sure he could find those assholes and beat the living shit out of them for even thinking of harming you.
But it wasn't their place to tell you, that much was apparent. Jake dug his grave, and then jumped into it. He had to crawl out of it on his own now.
"I just want to be someone he's happy to be with." you whisper and that's when Jake straightened up, heartbroken.
"Give me the body, hermano."
"All yours."
Only Jake scrunched the back of your shirts when he hugged you and you moved to hug him tightly as he whispered apologies in your ear.
"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I made you feel like you were a burden and that I was anything but fucking delighted to be with you." he kissed your nose and then told you everything. Looking away because he was scared.
"I didn't tell you at first because I didn't want to just say that I had to pretend I was dating someone else and then fuck off for a week. I made a mistake in assuming that'd you get mad and it's because if I was in your place, I would be. But you're stronger than me, tesoro, and I failed to see that and I'm so sorry."
"Baby, I forgive you." you replied and he breathed out a sigh of relief, "But please, don't keep stuff like this in, okay? You can trust me, you know that."
He nodded fiercely and then he kissed you. Noses nudging and lips parting as he breathed you in like you were his lifeline, and he yours. He cupped your face and held you tight against him and when he pulled away you smiled at him, your eyes shining.
Steven fronted again with a little smile and you kissed him lovingly with a whispered 'i love you'. He just winked at you and kissed the back of your hand and then your forehead again before Jake took back control and carried you to the bed, kissing you deeply all the way.
----
Marc was fine, no he just needed a glass of water. He'd carefully rolled off the bed, thankful that he was at least wearing sweatpants and padded to the kitchen.
He should have known that you were a light sleeper.
"Marc." you began, your voice raspy.
He hummed in reply and held out his glass to you. You accepted it and drank your fill, giving it back to him.
After a few more moments of silence, you spoke up, "I thanked Steven for comforting me. But I didn't thank you." you cleared your throat, "Thank you, Marc." you said, sincerely, "You're one of my best friends."
Marc smiled at you. Actually smiled. And you smiled back and kept going, "And Jake and Steven know this and are okay with it so I-"
"You don't have to thank me, honey." he patted your shoulder, trying to conceal his tears as he looked away because god he was dumb. Dumb enough to realize now, that he loved you, "I'm glad I'm your friend."
To him, you were everything. You were sunrays and moonbeams and everything that he believed was magical as a boy. Everything he stopped believing in as he grew up. The first time you made him laugh and joined him he felt sure that magic existed after all, because what else could you be?
He tried walking past you but you held his hand and he froze, tears streaming down his cheeks.
You walked over to him and held his face in your hands. His eyes shut as you wipe away his tears. And he whimpered as you kissed his forehead.
"Marc. Open your eyes and look at me." you said softly.
He was terrified. That you'd seen past his mask and were going to let him down gently. Because to you, what could he be? Certainly nothing more than a friend.
"Sweetheart. Please."
When his eyes finally opened, they met yours.
"Marc. I fucking love you." you confessed and he let out a sob. Pulling you into a tight hug.
"I love you. God I love you so much, Sweetheart." he says into your hair, kissing all over your face, but not your lips.
"Can I kiss you?" you asked him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.
He nods and your hands travel to his locks and pull them lightly as you bring your lips to his own. Humming sweetly as he wraps his arm around you and licks into you.
Yes, he reasons yet again as you hold his face in your hands and smile at him, magic does exist. And it's in his arms. He loves it and so do the men in his head who cheer for him, albeit sleepily, looking at you lovingly.
And they'd never let you go.
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jen-with-a-pen · 3 months
Text
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𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦
summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.
parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader
word count: 6.5K
warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum
a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.
If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!
gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥
my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥
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𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚
Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is. 
Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter–  to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day. 
You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.
When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.
Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.
After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.
You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week. 
With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.  
Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together. 
Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”
The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival. 
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A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’ 
“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door. 
“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.
You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.
Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger. 
“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.
It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder. 
The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit. 
“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.
“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip. 
Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing. 
“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.
You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.  
“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.
Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.
“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.
You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”
“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink. 
Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it. 
You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time. 
You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell. 
Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.
The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.
“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear. 
“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”
White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.
He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.
“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.
His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.
You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below. 
With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.
“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost. 
“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape. 
“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”
He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully. 
“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.
“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.
“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”
He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.
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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium. 
There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form. 
Your face burned.
Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?” 
You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.” 
He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.
♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.
You swallowed a groan. 
“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear. 
“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”
“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”
“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”
Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours. 
“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.” 
You wanted to take his finger and break it.  
You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.
You doubted it was convincing.
“Fine.” 
He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion. 
When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.
“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”
“When the hell did you–”
“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.
“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance. 
He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.
The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles. 
“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.
Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.
It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike. 
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The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”
“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. 
Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–
“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously. 
“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side. 
“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.
“Because there’s only one fucking bed?” 
“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.
You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”
His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward. 
You swallowed. “You heard me.”
One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard. 
Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body. 
“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.
“Look at me!” 
“No! Fuck– Get off me!” 
With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.
You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.
“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.” 
His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”
You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone. 
“Is that all, Sergeant?” 
His Adam's apple bobbed.
“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.
“You heard me.” 
The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged. 
“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.
“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”
Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.
“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you. 
And you let him.
“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.
“Holy–fuck, holy shit.” 
Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why. 
He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame. 
“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”
Your heart stopped.
“You’re telling me.”
Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door. 
Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy. 
Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.
Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however. 
He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?” 
You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”
“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.
“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release. 
“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.
“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”
He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”
“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”
“Number fuckin’ one.”
The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core. 
Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.
“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.
He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs. 
“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass. 
SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”
SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”
SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.” 
Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him. 
“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”
You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure. 
“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you. 
“Fuck! Again! Please, again!” 
He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you. 
“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode. 
“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”
“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.
For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile. 
“Thanks.”
He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”
You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”
“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.
“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”
“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.
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thefrogdalorian · 2 months
Text
The Arrangement
Din Djarin x F!Reader
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Summary: You entered into an arrangement with Mando find some physical relief from the monotony of hyperspace as you travel through the galaxy together as a formidable team of bounty hunters. When you did so, there were three clear rules: that it would not impact your professional relationship, that there were no strings attached and most importantly of all: that Mando would never, ever remove his helmet.
When you carelessly let your emotions get the better of you and undermine those rules, you fear you have lost the man who means everything to you and discover that you miss much more than merely the physical encounters…
Word Count:  7.1k ✯ Rating:  Explicit 18+ MDNI ✯ Content Warnings: Smut, light angst, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex. ✯ Author's Note: Well, this was by far the spiciest thing I have ever written and I hope you like it! I get the urge to write smut very occasionally and it was actually pretty fun to explore this side of a relationship with Din. Thanks to the lovely @decembermidnight for helping me out with this one and encouraging me through it! Very much a "Goooood Anakin, gooooood," dynamic. Nervous about posting this one so I'm going to run and hide now but hope you enjoyed it! :)
✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯
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As you lie forlornly on your bunk, isolating yourself further from the man who has already put distance between the two of you, you rue the day you ever allowed yourself to enter into an arrangement with such an elusive man. You think back to all the moments you have shared since your paths first crossed, reminiscing over each one of your encounters. 
Tonight is not the first night you chastise yourself for allowing yourself to become entangled with a Mandalorian; far from it. 
Since you and Mando first started sleeping together, there have been frequent occasions when you have regretted the day that you gave into your desires and ever allowed yourself to end up underneath him, especially since he is so reclusive and aloof by nature. His reserved nature occasionally frustrates you, though you have always successfully hidden that. Well, almost always. 
Mando’s withdrawn, quiet nature began as an attractive trait. His stoic, quiet nature first drew you to him as a business partner. 
Except, now you have become something more to each other, such a trait prevents you from knowing him entirely. 
And, boy, do you want to know him entirely. 
Unfortunately, it seems as though you never will. A fact that you are painfully aware of now Mando cannot even stand to be in the same room as you. He is always hiding away in the cockpit. 
You are frustrated at yourself for ever allowing yourself to feel so deeply for him. 
What started as a casual arrangement is undeniably something more to you now. He means something more to you now. The man whose presence you cannot bear to be without. The man whose absence creates a great cavernous void in your chest that feels overwhelming. 
The arrangement between you and Mando started as a physical release for you. A way to scratch an itch. With no strings attached, the arrangement was merely a way of passing time as you hurtled through hyperspace to collect the next bounty. 
You were instantly attracted to Mando since you first glanced at him in the Cantina on Nevarro. With his broad shoulders, narrow waist and imposing form, it was impossible to tear your eyes away from him when he strode in. Even though mostly hidden beneath his armour, you were certain he was gorgeous. 
Then you heard him speak.
Maker. His voice. So deep. His tone was so even, including when he was frustrated by the conversation with the head of the Bounty Hunters’ Guild on Nevarro. Even in the face of adversity, Mando kept his composure. The hulking warrior seemed so composed, so certain. His voice was calm and steady. 
As a fellow member of The Guild, you were unable to resist the tempting urge to eavesdrop on his conversation with Greef Karga. You heard all about how Mando was struggling to afford the interest on paying off the ridiculous loan he had taken to buy the antiquated Razor Crest. You discovered he was having increasing difficulty covering the fuel that the old girl guzzled. After hearing about his predicament, an idea formed in your head.
It was rare for two members of The Guild to collaborate in such a way. After all, Mando should have been your competition. Something about him was drawing you to him, though. You felt compelled towards him, as though some invisible Force was pushing you together. 
You proposed an arrangement to him. 
In return for keeping the credits from your jobs, this mysterious Mandalorian would provide transport, lodgings and fuel in his ship. Considering it was an offer to have one of the best Bounty Hunters in the parsec come aboard his ship, you knew it was an offer he could not refuse. Sure enough, Mando accepted. 
You had been together ever since.
At first, the arrangement was strictly business. You both kept yourselves to yourselves. Never prying into the other’s affairs.
However, after a couple of months spent traversing the galaxy together, there was a shift in your dynamic.
It turned out that two people existing together in a confined space with only each other to converse with to break the monotony of endless hyperspace lanes would find conversation and, eventually, friendship in each other. Despite their best efforts to avoid such a dynamic. 
While friendship blossomed, so did other feelings. 
You had never been able to deny your attraction to Mando to yourself. Pretty soon, you could not even deny it to him. Not when he asked you outright after imbibing one too many flagons of spotchka. 
The first night you slept together was after a particularly heavy night of drinking at a seedy Cantina next to the shipyards of Corellia. There had been an unavoidable tension in the air that night. The alcohol had only enhanced your existing attraction towards each other to the point where it was no longer possible to ignore. The booze finally gave you the courage to vocalise them. 
The tension which lingered in the air all evening was only magnified when you finally staggered back to the Razor Crest. It was practically suffocating being so close to him in that old ship. 
In hoping that you would quickly fall into Mando’s bunk alongside him, you had vastly underrated the meticulousness of your business partner. 
Even in your inebriated states, he had taken the time to lay out the ground rules. Despite how desperate you were for him, every inch of you aflame, Mando had insisted on setting some boundaries before your first time together. 
Firstly, he insisted that sleeping together should not get in the way of your professional relationship. Mando would not give you favourable rates or discounts, nor would he expect them from you, just because you were sleeping together. He made it abundantly clear that, at any time, either of you could back out. The end of the arrangement would not impact your life together.
Secondly, there were no strings attached. No feelings. No declarations of love were wanted nor expected. Ideally, no emotions at all; this was strictly a physical relationship. You were to enjoy each other’s bodies and bring each other pleasure, but that did not necessarily mean that feelings ran any deeper than merely enjoying the way he relentlessly pounded into you, night after night, as you soared through the stars together. 
Thirdly, and most importantly to Mando: the armour stayed on. All of it. Including the helmet. You were never, under any circumstances, to question this rule. You were never to attempt to remove any of his armour. If you did, it would not only terminate your physical arrangement with Mando. But your professional one, too.
You were so desperate to finally relieve the tension that had been simmering for months that you were more than happy to agree to terms. 
You did not regret your decision for even a moment once Mando ended up in the bunk with you.
In allowing your desire for him to win out, you discovered that he was a skilled lover, even with the limitations of his armour. You could not touch him, see his face or feel his mouth, but he made it work. He always ensured you came first, knowing exactly how to please you.  
Your encounters with Mando were a way to blow off steam, a release you both craved. It broke up journeys and brought you closer together. Your professional lives went from strength to strength. You were attuned to each other’s bodies. With each encounter, it felt as though you were slowly becoming one.
Even if you feared catching feelings for Mando, you always consoled yourself that it would never amount to anything. You were sure he did not feel for you in that way.
Whenever you doubted the arrangement, you thought about how the positives far outweighed the negatives. After all, keeping your sexual encounters in-house, so to speak, was a far safer option than putting yourselves in such a vulnerable position, entirely at the behest of others. Your reputation as a formidable bounty-hunting team preceded you throughout the galaxy. You were certain that there would be no shortage of people who would be keen to seduce you and Mando for their benefit.
The arrangement was perfect for both of you. It satisfied your carnal desires. 
At least, at first, it did. 
The closer you grew to Mando, the more your lives became intertwined, the more difficult it was to respect how strongly he felt about keeping himself covered when you slept together. 
To begin with, Mando only took his cock out of the confines of his flightsuit. His armour remained on, digging into your skin. The various plates of his armour colliding roughly with your skin was a sensation you did not mind one bit, especially the touch of his cool beskar on your flushed skin. 
Although you were entirely naked before him, with every inch of your skin displayed. At first, Mando did not even remove his gloves.
During those early encounters, you would barely even touch him. Fearful of being scolded, of ruining what you had. He often took you from behind, pounding into you after he bent you over the crates or the edge of his bunk. Sometimes on the cockpit's dashboard itself, if you were particularly desperate for each other and could not make it down the ladder to your bunk.
Still, the more you and Mando got intimate with one another, the more desperate you were to reach the man below. 
When he finally allowed you to ride him as he sat on the red leather seat of the cockpit, your ass brushing against the cool metal of his thigh plates, you took your chance.
You frantically pushed through the coarse material of his cowl and moved the material which guarded his neck so you could place your lips upon the soft, golden skin you discovered there. 
Mando did not seem to mind, never pushing you away. 
It became a ritual whenever you slept together. You, delighting as you sucked marks that no one else would be able to see, while Mando groaned and praised you. 
You knew the marks were just between the two of you, for your eyes only. Still, their presence nonetheless gave you a thrill in the days afterwards. Especially, when you saw him interacting with others. To know that you had marked him. You had claimed him as yours.
It was a heady prospect that this formidable Mandalorian warrior had been reduced to a whimpering mess by your lips, by such a simple act. He had allowed you to claim him. 
It was also a dangerous prospect… to think of him as yours.
You did not dwell on it for too long, however. 
After that first time you desperately sought out his skin as you rode him in the cockpit, something shifted deep within Mando. 
That small action had clearly awakened some previously untouched feelings in him. The next time you slept together Mando allowed you to remove his flightsuit. You had not acknowledged this shift or dared to believe that it could mean that he held any deeper feelings for you than the lust and desperation borne out of your encounters. 
Still, from that day forth, rather than just taking his impressive length out and nothing else, he would undress himself and wait for you on the bunk, clad in nothing but his helmet. 
It was a sign of ultimate trust. Of vulnerability from a man who you knew rarely allowed himself to feel such an emotion. 
Now you lie here despondently at the knowledge that you have ruined everything. 
Your heart constricts as you remember how close you and Mando once had been. How much you had trusted each other. Entirely. Unquestioningly.
Those times seem so distant now.
Now that you and Mando have stopped speaking. 
Since your last encounter more than a week ago, which happened in the aftermath of a particularly stressful job on the forest planet where you had collected your latest bounty, he has not said a word to you. 
Mando has been completely ignoring your existence… and you have a pretty good idea as to the reason why. 
In fact, as you think back to your most recent encounter, turning over the thoughts in your mind once again, you are certain of the moment you ruined everything…
✯✯✯✯✯
You had barely made it to the bunk, so desperate for each other after spending days camped out in the undergrowth. Dirt still clung to your pores, invading every crease of your body. There had been no opportunity to use the sonic. You were preoccupied with loading up the bounty, as Mando started the Razor Crest’s launch sequence. Despite your dishevelled, filthy appearance, Mando did not seem to mind. He initiated another encounter without hesitation. 
Your condition seemed to unlock something primal within him when you bore yourself to him, traces of dirt on your skin. The musky scent of the forest planet clung to him as he bared his hulking form to you after stripping out of his flightsuit. He was feral, desperate for you as he pounded into you at a merciless pace. Mando moaned loudly and chanted your name as though it were a sacred prayer until he finished with one long growl of your name in his deep, gravelly voice that strained under each syllable.
In the aftermath, as you lay on his strong chest, you allowed your mind to wander. You wondered what the man beneath the helmet looked like. Whether he was as attractive as the rest of his body suggested. His body was firm and toned without being overwhelmingly muscular. There was a softness to his belly and chest you appreciated. A physique more than appropriate for a man of his age. 
You ached to move your hands beneath his helmet, tracing his features with your fingers so that you may see him in the only way possible for you to do so. To catch the vaguest of glimpses of the man who had brought you so much pleasure over the last few months. 
Still blissed out from your multiple orgasms and barely comprehending the gravity of your words and how dangerously close to the line you were stepping, you said something which you wished you could take back almost as soon as the words were out of your mouth. 
“I wish I could see your face when you moan my name, Mando,” you sighed as you lay there in the afterglow. 
The shift was immediate. You felt Mando tense beneath you. Your comment had unsettled him. The guilt was immediate.
“Wait, Mando,” you quickly added, your blood ran cold as you realised your carelessness, “I wasn’t asking you to remove it… I was just thinking out loud. Please, Mando, I…”
Your words were cut off when he shuffled out from beneath you, disentangling himself from your limbs that had been entwined ever since you collapsed in a heap of breathless satisfaction after your latest encounter.
Without uttering a single word to you, you heard Mando’s heavy footsteps echo throughout the metallic hull and disappear into the fresher to finally wash the grime from his body. 
When he finally exited, you attempted to apologise to him one more time. Unfortunately, he was thoroughly uninterested in anything you had to say. You stood before him, the threadbare blanket from the bunk wrapped around you, pleading for mercy. A formidable bounty hunter reduced to a trembling wreck, begging for Mando's forgiveness. Mando did not respond to anything you said. Instead, he immediately excused himself while mumbling about checking the hyperdrive generator. 
✯✯✯✯✯
Throughout the last few miserable days, you have distracted yourself from the uneasy atmosphere which hangs heavy in the ship by thoroughly polishing each one of your blasters and thinking back to happier times. 
Like the time when Mando stripped himself from his flightsuit for the first time and allowed you to finally see him almost entirely. As entirely as you ever would.
The way his taut, toned flesh felt underneath your fingers as you traced each ridge of his muscles with delicate, tentative fingers. His sweaty skin slapped against yours, an obscene noise which reverberated throughout the rest of the ship.
As you lie back on your bunk, you cannot help your fingers trailing down your abdomen. Lower and lower until they reach between your thighs. 
You are stunned by how wet you are before you have even touched yourself, so turned on by merely the memories of Mando.
You gather your wetness with your fingers before you begin moving them in a circular motion over your sensitive bundle of nerves. 
You think back to that first time you laid eyes upon Mando. His impressive physique. The way he picked up the pace to fuck you even harder when you raked your nails down his flesh. Moaning and grunting into your neck as you left marks down his broad back. 
You remember the unmistakable scent of sex that lingered in the air afterwards, amplified by the fact there were now two bare bodies during your encounters, not just one. It was almost overwhelming to your senses, the scent of him. So masculine and musky. So Mando.
You groan at the memory, clenching around nothing. You feel so empty, desperate to feel the delicious burn as Mando’s thick cock stretches you and reaches parts of you never filled before. You slide two fingers inside yourself and begin thrusting out. Although it satisfies the ache, it pales in comparison to the fullness and completeness you feel whenever Mando snaps his hips forward and thrusts into you in one fluid motion. 
You try to remember how he felt, pathetically imagining that your fingers are in any way comparable to his touch. To his length. It is the best you are going to get, for now.
Your nipples pebble and tighten beneath the thin cotton shirt you wear. The material provides some friction, but nothing as satisfying as when Mando would roll them between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to throw your head back in ecstasy. Still, you moan at the memory, continuing to thrust your fingers inside of you with one hand while the other massages your clit. 
“Mando,” you gasp when you pick the pace up. 
Both hands and your fingers working in tandem still are nowhere near as satisfying as even one of Mando’s thick, calloused digits. 
“Kriff, Mando!” you yell as your legs begin trembling.
You are so close now. That familiar feeling builds somewhere deep inside of you. A coil tightening, ready to release. 
A familiar voice behind you, tone full of concern, “Are you okay? I heard–” followed by a gasp of surprise and hastily retreating footsteps kills the mood instantly.
“Sith hells!” you exclaim, annoyed to have been interrupted when you were so close to climax.
That frustrated feeling soon gives way to embarrassment as you realise that Mando probably heard you from all the way up in the cockpit. He has spent much of his time up there, only descending the ladder to use the fresher or prepare himself rations. Even then, he usually only comes down when he can hear that you have sealed yourself into your bunk for the night. 
You must have called his name far louder than you had realised in the throes of passion. You wonder how you will ever face him again. You pull your pants up and step out of the bunk, keen to at least attempt to converse with the stubborn buckethead. 
Fortunately, you do not have to wait long. Mando soon emerges from the fresher. There is an awkward silence. He stands there, clad in his flightsuit and helmet, clenching and unclenching his gloved fists at his sides repeatedly. It is a mannerism you recognise well, usually seen when he is trying to size up a target or decide his next move. Is that how he sees you—as prey?!
“Mando,” you breathe, “Please, can we talk?”
Mando does not move a muscle. He stands perfectly still, at full height. A looming, intimidating presence in the darkness of the hull. 
“Look, I know I upset you the other day,” you begin, sincerely laying out your feelings and hoping that he comprehends how remorseful you are. “I’m so sorry, Mando. Please believe me. I know what I said was thoughtless, but I wasn’t thinking. I would never expect you to take your helmet off for me. I know how much being a Mandalorian means to you. I would never try to come between you and your Creed,” you promise.
You briefly pause, searching Mando’s body language for the smallest clue as to his feelings. Unfortunately, he is so used to hiding his emotions from the rest of the galaxy that you cannot glean even a crumb of information.
“I miss you, Mando,” you sigh, “And not just like that!” you hastily add, hoping that he does not think your apology is in any way related to the compromising position he just caught you in. 
Mando remains perfectly still. It’s progress, at least. He has not retreated. You take that as a sign to continue. 
“I miss the nights we spent together in the cockpit, sharing memories of our past and discussing our hopes for the future. The way you would always make sure there was a warm cup of caf for me each morning when I finally hauled myself from the bunk. You were always so eager to rise, while I have never been a morning person,” you smile fondly, attempting to fight the tears that have suddenly pooled on your waterline. “Remember when you showed me each of your weapons? Showing me just how you liked them polished and ordered. Somewhere along the way, they became our arsenal, Mando. Our weapons are together in the locker, side-by-side. Just like us.”
You finally get the first clue of the impact your words are having on Mando when his broad shoulders rise and fall. The shaky breath he takes is amplified by his vocoder. Reminiscing has left him emotional on some level, too. It’s a positive sign. You make headway with it.
“I will forever be grateful for the day I overheard that conversation with Karga in that Cantina on Nevarro. Even though I used to curse this ship after I first came aboard, I think it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Without it and the loan you took out to cover costs, you would never have required someone else. I know…” you sigh, choosing your next words carefully as you are painfully aware that you are likely going to come dangerously close to overstepping another boundary. “I know that you do not always take kindly to strangers, Mando. I know that you have been alone for so long that you have probably forgotten what it feels like to be with someone else. But what we had was something special. I miss that. I miss us, Mando.”
Mando’s helmet falls, then. His unrelenting, steely gaze is finally off you. You are getting through to him. You keep talking, hoping that your words have the desired effect.
“You mean so much more to me than our encounters, Mando,” you confess. “I enjoyed every second, don’t get me wrong. But I would take them all back in a heartbeat to go back to how things were before. I would rather have only had you in my life platonically than having you like that and losing you…
What happens next catches you completely off-guard.
Firstly, Mando tilts his helmet up. His helmet is finally level with you again, focused on you. You look into the dark, T-visor where you imagine his eyes would be. You can almost feel his eyes on you. Your heart starts thundering. You feel that connection back. That spark.
Before you even have time to digest his actions, Mando’s deep voice finally breaks the silence:
“I love you,” he says simply. 
Does he love you?! You are sure you misheard him. Your desperate mind is playing the cruellest trick of all. 
“Y-You love me?” you choke out in disbelief.
“I do.”
“Oh, Mando, I love you too,” you tearfully whisper.
“Din,” Mando rasps.
You look at him questioningly.
“My name,” Mando nods, “It’s Din. Din Djarin.”
“Din Djarin,” you murmur the name of the man you love with such reverence, as though it is a sacred prayer, enjoying the way your mouth curves around each letter. 
Your head is still spinning from Din’s declaration and the reveal of his name. You have barely had time to process the events which have just transpired when he drops the next bombshell on you.
“I want to remove my helmet in front of you,” Din declares, “I want you to know me entirely.”
“Din, I wouldn’t expect such a thing,” you shake your head frantically, “Just because we have confessed our feelings, I would never expect you to take such a drastic step.”
“That…” he sighs, “Is precisely why I am taking such a step.”
You do not have time to vocalise any further protestations. Before another thought can enter your mind, Din lifts shaky gloved hands to the side of his helmet. You hear the unmistakable sound of a Mandalorian helmet depressurising. Something you had only ever heard through the door of the fresher until now.
Din trembles as he lifts his helmet. The emotion of the moment takes its toll as he prepares to finally bear his face to you. Your mind almost goes blank. All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and his heavy breaths.
As the gleaming helmet finally begins to lift across his features and reveal his face to you, you get your first glimpse of the man you love.
You see patchy stubble across his jawline, a neatly trimmed moustache plush which sits atop plush, full lips, a strong nose and then, with his helmet fully removed, his most striking feature of all. His eyes. The most soulful pair of deep brown eyes that you have ever encountered.
Din Djarin is stunning. Heartachingly so. 
With just one look at his face, you know that you will never be able to allow this beautiful man to slip through your fingers. 
“Din,” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears as he stands there before you, his helmet clutched before him as he looks up at you.
There is so much nervousness and anxiety in his gaze that your heart aches for him. Unable to bear the eye contact any longer, Din bends down and places his helmet at his feet with a satisfying clunk. 
He stands up straight again, but not to his full height. With his face bared and the slight tremble evident in his body. You no longer see a hulking Mandalorian warrior and feared bounty hunter. Instead, you see a frightened man, who has never known such intimacy before.
“You are so handsome, Din Djarin,” you whisper, as you close the distance between you. 
Din’s mouth hangs open as your words sink in. You raise your hand, realising you are trembling with emotion, and timidly place it along his jawline. The patchy stubble is scratchy underneath your fingers.
“Devastatingly handsome, in fact,” you clarify.
“Thank you,” Din nods gratefully.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Din swallows thickly, steadying himself. When his brown eyes fly open and meet yours again, you notice the apprehension has been replaced by something different altogether.
Din’s brown eyes are aflame, burning with desire for you. You sense he is desperate to act on his feelings, but unsure of how to proceed.
“Can I kiss you?” you request.
“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Din murmurs, closing his eyes again.
“You’ll learn quickly,” you say encouragingly. 
Din nods slowly, without opening his eyes. 
You close the distance between you, hovering an inch from his lips. You want Din to make the final move, to bring your lips together.
When he finally does, it is so achingly sweet and timid that you are surprised this is the same man who has bent you over crates and driven into you over and over, at a relentless pace. Until you were bruised and sore the next day from the force. 
Din pulls away, breathing deeply. A simple touch has been almost overwhelming for him. 
You wait for his next move, allowing him to take the lead with what he is comfortable with. When Din finally leans in again, he is more eager to claim your lips. The kisses deepen, growing increasingly frenzied as your tongues collide. Your hand trails along Din’s jawline and grazes along his neck. When you move your hands into his hair and tangle your fingers in the soft strands there, Din groans and presses his body against you.
In response, you lean your head to the side to give him unfettered access to your mouth. Din does not hesitate to take advantage, deepening the kiss without hesitation. He moves his enormous hands up to your cheeks, cupping them in his enormous hands. 
Your kisses grow more desperate and frenzied, the moaning and panting increasing. Although Din was inexperienced and clumsy at first, your teeth clashing and his tongue searching yours desperately before he learned a more pleasurable ratio of tongue to mouth, you discover that he is indeed a quick learner. He nibbles on your lip, using his teeth in a way that he discovers you like as you throw your head backwards and gasp his name. You are still getting accustomed to the novelty of being able to call him something other than Mando. 
When your lungs burn, Din finally pulls away. The two of you furiously gulp air into your lungs, steadying your breaths as your eyes meet. You allow yourself to look at Din once again, admiring the features which are so new to you. Yet somehow, comfortingly familiar. You feel as though you have always known his face. In Din’s brown eyes, you see awe, shock and lust. Despite their already dark colour, they are blackened by something primal.
You are about to suggest taking this to your bunk when Din drops to his knees before you, a dark look on his face. You are about to question the gesture when he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your pants and shimmies them down your legs as he goes. 
He kisses a path up your legs, pushing himself up so he kneels one leg as he pays particular attention to your inner thighs. Din takes his time teasing you. He removes the final barrier between you, discarding the pesky fabric elsewhere. 
When Din finally kneels before you, your glistening core bare to him you feel your knees weaken as he licks his lips at the sight in front of him. You groan, barely able to remain vertical. Thankfully, Din is holding your hips firmly in position, his gloved hands digging into your flesh.
At the sight of him on his knees like this before you, you think that this experience cannot possibly be any more arousing.
Then, his tongue touches you where you have been aching for him to place his mouth most of all, and you discover how wrong you were. 
He wastes no time sliding his tongue through your wet folds. Din makes up for his inexperience with enthusiasm and you move your hands down to run your fingers through his soft, dark curls. Keen to keep him in just the right spot, especially when he finally places his tongue where your fingers had been frantically circling minutes ago. 
“Din!” you gasp, when his tongue picks up its pace, clenching your thighs around his head and feeling his facial hair tickle your inner thighs.
Hearing his name fall from your lips in such a desperate manner only encourages him. He continues lapping at your core with a renewed fire and determination.
“Just there, just like that,” you praise.
Din continues for a few more moments and you feel your orgasm gathering pace within you. When your legs begin to shake, he moves his head back and you almost scream in frustration. But then you see the look on his face, and his sins are soon forgiven.
“Know how long I’ve wanted to bury my face between your thighs?” Din rasps, his voice barely audible and muffled thanks to his current position. “So beautiful,” he adds, before his tongue is on you again and all coherent thought leaves.
The pace is relentless now, Din swirling his tongue around your most sensitive spot as he seems driven to please you. To have you screaming his name so loud they can hear you all across the galaxy.
You chant his name over and over as your orgasm finally breaks, causing pleasure to reverberate throughout your body. Every inch of you is on fire for him. Din looks up at you, his brown eyes practically black. He makes an obscene slurping noise as he seems determined to collect everything on his tongue, not allowing a single drop of you to go to waste.
“Delicious,” Din rasps as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking at you with a satisfied smirk. 
You cannot believe how much he seems to relish in your release. How much it arouses him. You know he has always enjoyed pleasing you, just as much as receiving his release. Now, his benevolent nature is on full display once again. 
Satisfied you can at least stand by yourself, Din rises to his feet. He looms over you, eyes meeting yours and softening briefly, with something which looks suspiciously like love. You wonder how long he has looked at you like that. How many affectionate glances have been stolen from your eyes by his helmet? 
None of that matters, now.
Your train of thought is interrupted as Din resumes kissing you, pinning you up against the cold metallic walls of the Razor Crest. You can barely breathe, unable to move for a few moments as he kisses you. Once you regain feeling in your trembling legs, you begin nudging Din in the direction of the bunk.
He never breaks the kiss as you stumble across the floor. Din cannot get enough of kissing you, his enormous hands roaming all over your body. 
The kiss is only broken once the back of your knees hits the bunk. You sit on the hard surface, looking up at him flirtatiously through your eyelashes. You decide Din is far too clothed for your liking and move to free his straining bulge from his tight brown flightsuit. Before you can feel his familiar length in your hand, he places his hand on your wrist and moves you away from him.
You look at him in confusion before he whispers, “Lie back, cyar’ika. Let me take care of you.”
You do as he says, but not before divesting yourself of your clothes. You lie back, awaiting him. Buzzing with excitement to finally lay eyes on Din Djarin in his entirety.
You are entranced as you watch his muscles contract and relax as he removes his flightsuit. Broad muscles and chest bared to you, then his stomach and lower... his muscular thighs and toned calves. The most incredible sight you have ever seen.
Din crawls up the bunk and positions himself on top of you, supporting himself with his elbows as he resumes your makeout session with just as much veracity as before. He plunges his tongue into your mouth over and over, desperate to taste you.
It seems as though Din is scared that he will never have a chance to claim you like this again. Later, you will remind him that you are his for the rest of your days.
For now, you cannot form words, conveying your pleasure only through broken sounds which are torn from your body by Din’s skilled mouth. 
The usual straining metallic groans of the Razor Crest as it hurtles through hyperspace are joined by its occupants’ moans and gasps as they collide.
You notice that Din has finally shed his gloves when he takes your breasts in his hands. Squeezing the soft flesh and staring at them as though it is the first time he has ever laid eyes upon them. In a way, it is the first time he has seen many of your features with his own eyes, finally free from the dark visor that distorts everything.
Suddenly remembering he can take your flesh in his mouth, Din begins kissing the valley between your breasts. He trails kisses along both of them, one at a time, paying them equal attention. As though he is worshipping you. Discovering new ways he can show his affection for you. With his helmet removed, an entire galaxy of new possibilities has been opened to him. Now, there are so many ways to demonstrate his affection for you, to revere all the parts of your body he loves so much. 
Although you are enjoying his ministrations, you are growing somewhat frustrated by Din’s languid pace. The frenzied kisses and touches have given way to gentle, almost timid, exploration of your body from Din’s lips. When you are about to whine pathetically and beg him to pay attention to your aching buds, Din finally envelops them in his wet heat. He begins paying careful attention to the most sensitive part of your breast. The place where you most wanted his mouth. 
You gasp as he begins mouthing sloppy kisses around your nipple, before finally swirling his tongue around your hardened peak. You arch your back off the bunk, giving more of yourself to him. Even in your desire-addled state, you think about how much better his mouth feels than gloved fingers and hands kneading your breasts. 
You grind your hips up against Din’s hardness, desperate for some friction. Clenching around nothing as he continues sucking your nipple, each swirl of his tongue only making you more desperate for him.
When you can take it no longer, you place your hand on Din’s head and pull his hair lightly. He looks up at you, raising a dark eyebrow at you.
“Din, please,” you whine, desperate for him to finally take you.
Often, the man you knew only as Mando would tease you at this point. When he had used his deft fingers to draw an orgasm or two from you, leaving you desperate for him. You knew he was satisfied that you were ready for him, but he still wanted to hear it from your mouth. Before giving you what you wanted, he would command you to use your words in a firm tone. Imploring you to tell him where you wanted him. 
Fortunately, it appears that the man who has confessed his love for you, will not cruelly tease you. Din is just as desperate as you are; aching for that moment when he finally enters you. 
Din kisses a hot trail up the column of your neck, thrusting his hips against you in desperation. He joins his lips with yours one last time before leaning up and taking himself in hand to line himself up with you.
“Wanted to savour this moment but, kriff! You’re so perfect…” Din rambles, “Don’t think I can wait,” he grunts as he notches himself at your entrance. 
“Then don’t,” you sigh, begging him to put you both out of your misery. 
Din nods, joining your lips one last time before he slides himself into you in one swift, fluid moment. You practically see stars. 
Somehow, he feels even bigger. It has not been too long since your last encounter. Even still, you have forgotten how impressive his length is. Your fantasies could not accurately capture how his hardness touches places so deep inside of you that you wonder how it is possible. 
Although the friction and sensation are delicious, particularly as Din keeps pressing kisses all over your face and neck, you know that you won’t last long. Since Din caught you earlier when you were so close, you have been on the edge almost continually. Now, he is thrusting into you at a relentless pace. That familiar ache is back. This time, there are no interruptions. Din does not slow down or pull away. You quickly come with another gasp of his name.
After watching you come undone, you are surprised that Din does not let himself go. That he does not allow himself the release you sense he is so desperately chasing. Instead, he continues to ride out your orgasm as he thrusts into you harshly.
“One more,” Din encourages, cupping your cheek in his hand, “I know you have one more for me.”
You nod shakily, eager to please him. In response, Din clashes your lips together, grunting against your lips as he finds a new increased tempo that you are stunned he could muster. All the while impressively maintaining a steady rhythm. 
“That’s it,” Din encourages as he feels the way your pants increase and your legs tremble.
When you come with another shout of his name, Din finally lets himself go. His thrusts become increasingly erratic before he finally comes with a shout of your name, burying his face into your neck. His pants are warm against your neck as he paints your belly with hot, thick ropes of his spend. 
Din stays like that for a few more moments, careful not to hurt you with his weight as he regains his composure lying on top of you. You feel so content and begin absentmindedly tracing circles into his warm, broad back. 
Then, he lifts himself from you. You smile when he lays his head next to you on the pillow, still feeling your heart leap as you realise that you actually get to look at his face. Din looks thoroughly pleased with the events of the night. Happy that he could please you over and over. 
“I love you, Din Djarin,” you whisper fondly as you bring your hand up to his jawline, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb. 
“I love you too, ner kar’ta,” Din smiles in return, turning his cheek to press a kiss on the palm of your hand.
Since that first encounter in the Cantina on Nevarro, you and Mando have always been partners. Travelling through the galaxy as a formidable, feared pair of bounty hunters.
Now, you and Din are partners… in every sense of the word. 
722 notes · View notes
jaeyunverse · 1 year
Text
the perks of having a hot best friend
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pairing: lee jeno x fem!reader
genres: fluff, crack, mild angst, best friends to lovers, college au
wc: 14336
warnings: profanity, sexual jokes, jeno is shirtless in a scene phew, too many idol features SORRY i lowk lost track of who i’ve included. i think that is all but lmk if you find something else!
summary: having a hot best friend is nice until you start getting butterflies in your stomach every single time you look at them.
note: JAEYUNVERSE COMEBACK WOOO i’ve missed writing long fics so much omfg but i’m shitting bricks as we speak LOL it’s been a while since i’ve posted something big and i won’t lie i’m hella nervous. i rlly hope you guys enjoy this fic ♡ please don’t hesitate to give me your feedback! here’s to hoping my writing skills haven’t become as rusty as i think i have hehe :’))
masterlist
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𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐊𝐒 !
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01. an abundance of freebies and discounts
Lee Jeno knew the power his smile held. 
All it took was one flirty laugh combined with those sleepy eyes of his for people to melt. Being the resourceful person you were, you utilised that talent of his to its full extent. 
“Can you go and flirt with the cashier so she gives us a free muffin?” 
Your best friend gave you a dirty look. “You do realise this is supposed to be your treat, right?” 
“I am paying!” you exclaimed. “Just go do your thing and make her feel generous enough to slip a free dessert in our order.” 
Jeno rolled his eyes, but you knew you’d won. You almost always did. “Fine, whatever. You owe me one though.” 
“I’m feeding you because I owe you one,” you pointed out. “This makes us equal.”
“How riveting. I have to work so the person who owes me doesn’t have to owe me anymore.” 
“We can argue about this for hours or you can haul ass to the counter and place the damn order. I’ll Venmo you the money the moment you’re back,” you promised. 
Sliding out of the booth, Jeno said, “You’re lucky you’re cute. If this were Jaemin, I wouldn’t be letting him off the hook easily.”
You stuck your tongue out at him and shooed him away. Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you along. 
“Hey!” you cried. “Don’t take me with you! The flirting won’t have any effect on her if she thinks we’re together!” 
“Everyone thinks we’re together,” Jeno muttered and got in line behind an old man. “She checked me out when we entered the cafe, saw you arm-in-arm with me and gave you the dirtiest look to ever exist.” 
You snorted. “Liar. You might be an eye candy but you do not command such a high level of attention.”   
“I’m telling the truth!” he argued. “I would know because I was checking out the drink she placed on the counter. I was trying to figure out what the person’s order might have been to get something so incredibly delicious-looking. I saw her out of the corner of my eye.” 
“Oh.” You frowned and took a step forward when the line moved ahead. “That’s unfortunate. Should we go to another cafe and try our hand at getting something free there?” 
“How about you stop being such a cheap skate for once?”
Slapping his shoulder hard, you grumbled, “I have to bear the weight of my goddamn rent alone while you share yours with three others! I need to cut down on certain things, asshole.” 
“My offer to move in with you next semester still stands.” Jeno wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m a really good housemate; ask the others.” 
“You live with boys. The disgusting things you do don’t bother them because they do them too.” 
He closed his mouth and thought about it for a second. Then, “Touché.” 
You rolled your eyes, but before you could make another snarky comment, a pleasant voice interrupted, “Good morning. What can I get for you today?” 
Jeno averted his gaze to the girl standing behind the counter and let a lazy smile take form on his lips. You raised a brow and watched in amusement. 
“Hey there. Can I get a Strawberries & Crème Frappuccino with 1 pump caramel syrup, 1 pump hazelnut syrup, and 1 pump toffee-nut syrup? Java chips too, please.” 
The girl—Lia, according to her name tag—looked surprised to see him blatantly flirting with you right beside him. Maybe he was right about every stranger assuming the two of you to be together, though you couldn’t fathom why. “O—okay.”
“What do you want, friend?” Jeno stressed the last word. Refraining to roll your eyes a second time, you said, 
“Iced coffee without milk. Could you add some sugar to the brew? I prefer my drinks to be sweet.” 
“Of course,” she said and nodded once, unfazed even after learning of Jeno’s status as an eligible bachelor. 
Snorting under your breath, you whispered to him, “Lia doesn’t give a fuck. You’re lacking.” 
He scoffed and nudged you away. “No, I’m not,” he whisper-snapped. “Get out of here. You’re killing my vibe.” 
You deadpanned and gave him a don’t-bullshit-me look but retreated to your booth nonetheless. The last thing you heard Lia ask was: “Anything else?” 
You’d only been sitting and scrolling through your phone for a few minutes before a hand slapped a receipt on the table in front of you. 
Glancing up, you inquired, “What?” 
“Read the order.” 
Dropping your gaze to the piece of paper again, you picked it up. An appreciative frown tugged at your lips as Jeno slid into his seat. “You managed to get us a free muffin and a free bagel?”
“Don’t ever question my talents again,” he ordered and leaned back. Resting his arm on the cushion behind him and placing his ankle on his knee, his attitude was nothing short of a king’s. “I won’t tolerate any further slander.” 
“Uh-huh,” you muttered, utterly unimpressed. Though you admit, a smile threatened to break out on your face and you had to bite your lip to keep it from escaping. 
Jeno raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for something. All you did was stare at him, and when he realised you wouldn’t budge, he did an extremely horrible and high-pitched imitation of you that should have deserved jail. “Thank you sooooooo much, Jeno! If it weren’t for your flirting skills, I wouldn’t have anything to eat. You’re my one and only saviour, and I don’t know what I would have done without—”
“Order for Jeno!” Lia hollered. 
Said-boy flinched and clutched his heart with his hand. “What the… That was quick.” Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to you, the tips of his ears red and his face flushed. “Whatever. I’ll be right back. Venmo me the bill amount.” 
You snickered and watched him get up. However, before he could move out of earshot, you called his name. “Thank you for your service.” 
Jeno glanced at you over his shoulder and did nothing but observe you for a moment. Then, a lopsided grin took form on his lips and he mock saluted. 
“You’re welcome.” 
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02. gives good boy advice
“What are you doing here?” 
Pushing past you, Jeno strolled into your living room and plopped down on your sofa. “Is that any way to greet your best friend?” 
You rolled your eyes and closed the front door. Sitting down beside him, you placed your laptop on your lap again and resumed going through your notes. “I’m being serious. Were we supposed to hang out today? Because I cannot. I still have three finals left.” 
“No, we didn’t have any plans today,” he said, peering over your shoulder to check what subject you were studying. It was Economics. Horrible memories from the previous semester resurfaced and he shuddered before continuing, “Your text said you wanted to talk about something important?” 
You paused and glanced at him. “So you came over?” 
“Do you want me to leave?” Jeno frowned. “I thought it would be better to talk in person.”
He stood up and dusted himself off. Eyes widening, you grabbed his wrist and forced him back to his original position. “That’s not what I meant! I do want to talk to you but—it’s weird. I don’t feel like dealing with whatever has happened right now and I’m getting second thoughts about asking you for advice.” 
Concern seeped into Jeno’s face. “Woah, are you okay? You don’t have to explain anything right now. Just tell me one thing: do I need to beat anyone up? I’ve got a few gym buddies who are ripped.”
You huffed a laugh and placed your laptop on the coffee table. Crossing your legs, you turned to face him. Upon watching you get comfortable, your best friend rolled his shoulders back and did the same thing. 
“Before I say anything, I need you to promise me that you won’t laugh. Or make fun of me. Or call me an idiot.” 
“I won’t,” he answered immediately, though he wondered what issue warranted you to require his word. 
Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “YangYang asked me out a few days ago. I’ve always liked him, but not in a way that’s not platonic. I fucked up and instead of rejecting him right there, I asked him for some time to think it over and kinda led him to believe that I would say yes.”
Jeno raised an eyebrow. “How?” 
“I told him he’s my type,” you mumbled, cringing at the memories that came rushing back. 
“What?!” he exclaimed. “How the hell did you manage to do that?” 
“I don’t know!” you whined and buried your face in your hands. “He came up to me when I was in the library and asked if we could talk! I didn’t know he was going to drop such a bomb on me so I said yes. Then he started talking about how he’s always cherished our friendship and how he’s so glad to have me.
“I started suspecting where his train of thought was headed when he added a but to his sentence. He said he’s liked me for a while now and he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. I was flabbergasted once he was done! I’ve always viewed him as a good friend and I didn’t want to just turn his heart down!”
“So you told him he was your type?” Jeno asked incredulously. “I know I promised to not call you an idiot but you’re really fucking stupid, Y/N! It’s going to be hella awkward when the group meets up!” 
You groaned and closed your eyes shut, letting yourself fall on your back. “That’s not even the worst part.” 
Jeno grabbed your wrists and hauled you back up. His face was barely a few inches away from yours when he ordered, “Explain.”
Taking a deep breath, you continued. “I told YangYang that he was cute and my type but I wasn’t in a position to think about going out with anyone with still two weeks of finals left to get through. I thought he would drop it but he asked me if I would think about his confession after our exams and I felt terrible telling him the truth. So I said I would. Yeji called me last night and said she set me up on a blind date with this guy in her class. You know how fast word spreads here. YangYang is going to know I dangled him on strings only to go on a date with someone else!” 
“You’re going on a blind date? With whom?” 
You flicked Jeno’s forehead. “That’s not the issue!” 
“Well, I want to know!” he sputtered and slapped your hand away. 
“I don’t know! Frankly, I don’t care either. I made a bet with Yeji and I lost. Now I have to spend an evening with a random guy I don’t even want to seek a romantic relationship with.” 
Your best friend sighed in frustration. “This might be one of your biggest fuck-ups till now.”
“I know,” you said quietly and dropped your gaze to your lap in shame. 
“You’ll have to apologise to YangYang and tell him the truth. He’s a good guy and he doesn’t deserve any of this.” 
“I know.” 
“Hey,” Jeno said softly. You glanced at him to see he’d gotten up and was holding his out for you. “Come here.” 
You rose to your feet and let him envelop you in his comforting embrace. Burying your face in his chest, you whispered, “I never wanted to hurt YangYang. I don’t want to lose him as a friend.” 
“You won’t as long as you come clean and explain everything. Don’t insult him further by giving him more half-truths. Guys would rather know what’s the real deal than be lied to and find out from someone else. Not only is it hurtful, but it’s a huge blow to the ego.”  
Your lips curled in a small smile and you leaned back a little to look at his face. “Is this about your mom lying to you about the tooth fairy?” 
“Damn right it is,” he grumbled. “I gave an entire speech about her being my favourite person in the whole world. That’s not something you recover from easily.”
“It’s been 15 years.”
“It’ll take me another 15 to come to terms with the fact that I used to rip my loose teeth out and place them under my pillow when I needed money urgently.” 
You laughed and pulled yourself out of his arms. “I can’t believe I’m taking guy advice from you.” 
“Why?” Jeno exclaimed. “I’m a guy too! Plus, I always give good advice!” 
You giggled and plopped down on the sofa again. “I know. But you’re also Jeno. I’ve never thought of you as just a guy.” 
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.” 
“How about you sit your ass down and help me study now that you’re here? I made flash cards.” 
Snatching the stack from your hand, Jeno teased, “Oh, how would you survive without me?”
“I don’t have to wonder about that shit.” You grinned. “There’s no way in hell you’re getting rid of me anytime soon.” 
He laughed. “And thank fuck for that.” 
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03. hugs always make you feel safe thanks to all the beef underneath
You were going to drag Jeno to the seventh circle of Hell. 
You couldn’t afford to go grocery shopping with him when you had a huge exam the next day. You hadn’t studied shit and were one “have you prepared for tomorrow’s final?” away from a mental breakdown. 
It didn’t help that Yeji had called you in the middle of the night to clear a doubt she had from a chapter you didn’t even know had been covered.
You’d been panicking ever since and it felt like you were going to get a heart attack at any moment.  
“Doritos or Lays?” 
“Kick to the nuts or knuckles to the jaw?” 
Your best friend tore his gaze from the rack of chips and eyed you warily. “I said I’ll help you study tonight.” 
“You don’t understand, Jeno!” you exclaimed and ran a hand through your messy hair, pacing in the supermarket aisle impatiently. “I’m going to fail! Fail!”  
Groaning, Jeno grabbed your arm and forced you to face him. He held your shoulders and looked you in the eyes, enunciating each word as he reiterated, “You’re not going to fail. We’re going to pull an all-nighter in the library, but we need to be stocked up on food before we do that.” 
You sighed painfully. It burned your eyes to just focus on anything—how the hell were you supposed to stay awake for another day and write a three-hour-long exam after that? 
“You could have come here without dragging me with you,” you muttered. “I could have been studying at home instead of wasting precious time.”
Jeno frowned. “Any more time in front of your laptop and you would have gone insane, Y/N. Your eyes are completely red.” 
“Oh, that’s not because of the screen time. I cried before you came to check on me.” 
Huffing a small laugh that bordered on exasperation, amusement and worry, Jeno threw a few packets of Doritos in the shopping cart before slinging an arm around your neck. You let him pull you against him and wrapped your arms around his waist as the two of you began walking. 
“Well, you needed to get out anyway. I don’t remember the last time I saw you leave your apartment.” 
“I stepped outside yesterday to play with the neighbour’s cat,” you said defensively. 
“Not good enough,” Jeno popped. “We’re going to go get a massage once we’re done shopping.” 
You stopped in your tracks and peeled yourself away from him. “The final is in twenty-eight hours!” you yelled, staring at him incredulously. “Are you fucking stupid?!” 
“So you have plenty of time to de-stress before you start studying again!” he chirped, paying no heed to your concerns nor the people who had heard your outburst and were giving you odd looks. “Trust me, I went for a massage before my final and I was so relaxed. It helped me to focus too.” 
“Jeno,” you uttered his name with barely contained impatience. “I don’t have time. I need to cover a lot of shit before I go and sit in the fucking examination hall.” 
“And I said I’ll help!” he repeated, sounding almost exasperated. Pushing the shopping cart forward again, he studied the shelves and continued, “You always do this, Y/N. You freak out before a test and act like the world is ending only for you to do super well.”
“Well—” you began, stumbling after him— “that’s just my coping mechanism! The more worried I am, the better I do. But I’m screwed for real this time!” 
“No,” Jeno popped, placing a 2-litre bottle of Sprite in the cart. “I’m not listening to you this time. Especially not after you stayed awake for three days straight for your midterm.” 
You sighed again. There was no arguing with your best friend. “How long is this massage of yours going to take?” 
“We’ll be back at your place in two hours max,” he reassured you, patting your head. You swatted his hand away and gave him a dirty look. “I think we have everything we need to make it through today and tomorrow.” 
“Why do we need such a big bottle of Sprite?” 
“Party at my place this weekend. There’s a discount so I’m buying in advance.”
You frowned. “Shouldn’t you be stocking up on booze?”
“The guys said I have an alcohol addiction,” Jeno said, getting in line at the billing counter. “Which is, like, totally untrue but you know I never back down from a challenge. I’m going to prove them wrong by staying sober for two weeks.”
“Sure,” you snorted. “You’ll just find lame loopholes or cheat when no one’s looking.”
A sly grin took form on Jeno’s lips. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and drawled, “I know what you do when no one’s looking.”
“Really?” You feigned a gasp. “You know I sneak over to your house and steal your food when you’re not there?”
His smile dropped immediately. “Wait, what? That’s you? Not Hyuck?”
“The food thief is me but the one stealing your sheet masks is Hyuck,” you admitted.
“He steals my masks?! The ones I buy are expensive as fuck!” Jeno exclaimed, betrayal seeping into his features. His hands fell to his side and his eyes turned distant. “I can’t believe he’s been gaslighting me into thinking I do an extra round of skincare when I’m drunk.”
You giggled and pushed the shopping cart forward once the person in front of you was done. Placing the contents on the billing counter for the cashier to scan, you revealed, “Hyuck saw me raiding your pantry when you were at the gym. He used that as leverage against me for weeks before I saw him stealing your sheet masks and was able to finally strike a deal—he turns a blind eye to my robberies and I turn a blind eye to his.”
“Why’d you team up with him?” Jeno pouted. “I thought we were best friends.”
You laughed incredulously. “Seriously? That’s what you’re focusing on? Not the part where Hyuck and I used your stuff without asking?”
“Well, yeah, I’m pissed you used my shit. But I guess I’m just a little more bothered that you guys teamed up,” Jeno said and shrugged, fetching his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Because, you know, coming together to make people suffer has always been our thing.”
You raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by how he was beating around the bush. “Are you saying you wanna team up with me to get back at Hyuck?”
Jeno grinned. “I’m gonna screw over that motherfucker so bad. You get off the hook, though, because you’re cute and I need your help.”
“You’re impossible.” You huffed and shook your head. Taking the bag of groceries, you said to him, “Text me my share and I’ll Venmo the money to you.”
“You could buy me an ice cream instead.”
“No,” you denied immediately. “We’re not wasting time on ice cream. Massage and then straight home so I can pick up my study material and we can leave for the library.”
Thankfully, Jeno didn’t protest. He drove you to your apartment complex and waited for you while you packed your bag. Then, the two of you were off to the massage place.
An hour later, you were done and forced to admit that the massage had indeed helped you. It felt like all the stress had left your body. Thinking about the final didn’t make you want to cry anymore and things were actually looking up now that you were rested.
You were able to retain the knowledge better and it was easier to understand the concepts. Jeno quizzed you and provided you with an endless supply of coffee throughout the night.
Right before lunch the next day, however, the panic resurfaced as you were revising your syllabus for the last time before your final at 3. You couldn’t seem to remember anything you had studied the previous night. 
You could feel another breakdown coming, but before you could hyperventilate, Jeno scooped you up in his arms.
You hadn’t even realised when he’d come back from picking up your food. One minute, you were trying to control your breath and the next, your face was buried in his hard chest.
You held onto his shirt as his hands rubbed soothing circles on your back and he rocked you from side to side.
“Shh, don’t cry,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head. “You’re gonna ace the final like you always do. You were able to answer all the quiz questions, so keep in mind that you are prepared. The pre-exam anxiety is just clouding your thoughts. Everything’s gonna come back to you when you sit down to write, alright?”
Nodding, you clenched your eyes shut and bit down on your lip to keep a sob from escaping. Jeno’s presence kept acting like a tether for you. It always had.
Maybe he was right about the final. Maybe he wasn’t. But at that moment, engulfed in his warm, safe embrace, it felt like everything was going to be okay.
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𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 !
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01. having to deal with a narcissistic asshole. 
It was an especially sweltering day. 
You were being baked inside-out despite wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts, your hair tied in a messy high bun. Adding to your torment was your broken A/C. You’d requested your landlord to fix it several times but your efforts were to no avail. 
You would have kept bothering him incessantly and gotten the job done if you weren’t so intimidated by him already. 
Sighing, you eyed your bathroom. A cold shower sounded like an amazing idea. Jeno wasn’t supposed to come over to watch the movie for a while anyway. 
Deciding to cool yourself and get rid of the sweat sticking to your body, you entered the tiny bathroom. A high-pitched squeal left your mouth the moment you turned the shower knob and the cold water hit your skin. 
“Fuck,” you cursed and flinched, turning the knob the other way immediately. Your shitty apartment didn’t even have a valve to adjust the temperature—the water was either mildly hot or ice cold. Showering in summer was always a big problem.
“God, I don’t wanna keep doing this,” you mumbled to yourself and stepped into your room again. 
There was this… thing you’d been doing ever since you moved into this apartment. Whenever it was hot, you’d work out so you’d get more sweaty. That way, when you showered under the ice-cold water, it didn’t feel as unbearable. 
It was weird and there probably was no science behind it, but you didn’t care as long as it worked. 
So, you rolled out your yoga mat on the floor and began warming up. 
Within no time, your skin was glistening with sweat and your hair was damp. You were struggling to complete the last push-up of your final set when someone knocked on your door, causing you to lose your focus. Your arms gave out beneath you, and you collapsed to the ground. 
“Woah, it’s boiling in here,” Jeno pointed out intelligently. “And you look like you’re one move away from dying. God, I can’t even breathe Why the fuck are you working out with the windows closed? Are you stupid?” 
Groaning, you rolled on your back and watched your best friend as he moved to the windows and threw them open. “Hey!” you protested weakly and raised a trembling arm in a pathetic attempt to stop him. “I’m trying to do something!”
Jeno raised an eyebrow at you and grabbed your hand, hauling you up effortlessly. “Oh, yeah? Pray tell.” 
You crashed into his chest and rebounded, but he tightened his hold on you. His palm hovered over your back in case you lost your balance. Steadying yourself, you glared at him and snapped, “No. You’re gonna make fun of me.”
“I won’t!” Jeno laughed, his eyes crinkling. 
“Stop, you’re doing it already!” 
“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. I really do wanna know what you were doing.” 
You eyed him for a moment, waiting for him to slip up and start laughing again. But Jeno’s face remained mildly curious. Satisfied, you explained, “Well, because I was feeling hot, I decided to take a shower. The water here is very cold, though, so I decided to work out in a closed room because that would make me even hotter. If I get in the shower now, it wouldn’t feel as cold because my body temperature has already increased, and the water would be sort of neutralised.” 
A beat of silence passed. And then, “I know I said I wouldn’t make fun of you—”
“Then stop talking.”
“But did you not realise you could have mixed the hot and cold water in a bucket?” Jeno continued, clearly still talking. “Or, I don’t know, come over to my place to shower?” 
“You live with three other men.” You deadpanned. “I was not going to shower in your apartment with Jaemin, Renjun and Hyuck there. Also, I don’t have a big enough bucket, so I will be buying one today,” you added, muttering the last bit. 
Jeno rolled his eyes. “God, Y/N, I would have kicked the guys out.” 
“What makes you think they would have listened to you?” you asked amusedly.
“Okay, true,” he agreed. “They would have listened to you, though. If there’s anyone who’s bossy enough to get them out of the house on a hot Sunday afternoon, it’s you.” 
“Are you calling me bossy?” 
“Are you going to shower now?” he deflected. “You stink.”
“Shut up!” you exclaimed and slapped his shoulder hard, but laughed nonetheless. Moving away from him, you kicked him off your yoga mat and said, “You opened the windows and interrupted my workout, so I don’t feel as hot anymore. I think I’m gonna exercise a little more so I don’t die of hypothermia in the shower. You can take my laptop and choose a movie till then if you want.”
“How about I work out with you?” Jeno suggested. “We can have our gym bros moment.” 
“I don’t wanna have a gym bros moment with you.”
“Why?” he whined. 
Flicking his forehead, you said, “Because I know you’re gonna turn this into a competition, and I’m not in the mood.” 
“Scared?”
“You wish,” you scoffed. “I’m tired from all the working out I did before you came, and I’m not going against you when you have that advantage over me.” 
“That still means you’re scared. Pussy.”
Letting out an exasperated sigh, you got into the position for a plank. “Get out if you’re going to keep being annoying and not contribute shit to our gym bros moment.”
“I knew you’d come around,” Jeno replied smugly. You practically heard the grin in his voice when he said that. 
You closed your eyes and laboured your breathing as you felt your abdomen begin to burn almost immediately. “Had to, or I knew you’d keep irritating me.” 
Opening your lids, you turned your neck to see if he was doing the exercise with you. 
Your arms gave out the moment you saw Jeno shirtless, his bulging biceps on full display.
“Damn, you lost quicker than I thought,” he commented. 
“Why are you naked?!” you demanded in a shrill voice. 
Still in position, Jeno only glanced at you like you were out of your mind. “I was wearing a hoodie, Y/N. Did you expect me to do a plank in that furnace?” 
“Yeah!” you exclaimed. To your dismay, your eyes kept drifting to his well-defined muscles no matter how much you tried to focus on his face. 
To make things worse, Jeno noticed. And smirked. “Stop complaining if you’re enjoying the view so much. It’s okay to admit you have a hot best friend.”
Flustered, you scrambled to your feet and looked at the ceiling. God, you felt like a stupid middle schooler. It was insane how much of an effect Jeno was having on you. What was weirder was that your mind was drifting to places it had never been before. At least where your best friend was concerned. 
“Narcissus has nothing on you,” you muttered under your breath, and tried to gather your bearings. 
“Besides,” Jeno continued, having not heard you. “I do send you pictures sometimes. I don’t know why you’re acting like you’ve never seen me like this.” 
“Your phone’s camera is fucked, Jeno,” you grumbled. “The photos you texted me didn’t capture half of what’s actually there.”
No matter what you hadn’t seen, you’d felt whenever you hugged each other. It didn’t take away your surprise upon seeing the 2440p quality visual though. 
“Is that disappointment I hear?” he taunted. 
“No!” you exclaimed and finally looked at him again. At the sight of his working muscles, you muttered, “Can we stop now? You won.”
“Ah!” Jeno dragged the word as if he had just stumbled upon a revelation. “You want me to stand up so you can get a better view of my abs? Got it.” 
Your eyes widened, and before you could deny his ridiculous accusations, he was towering over you. Wiggling his eyebrows, he gestured towards himself and flexed dramatically. 
“You’re an idiot,” you huffed, unable to help yourself. 
“Yeah? Then I guess an idiot just managed to fluster the shit out of you.” Jeno smiled and ruffled your hair. Bending, he picked up his discarded hoodie and shrugged it back on. “I’ll go and get you a bathing bucket from the supermarket around the corner. Don’t freeze yourself to death.” 
You rolled your eyes. “I won’t.” 
“Also, do you remember the shirt I forgot here all those months ago after I got wet in the rain? Can you find it so I can change into it when I’m back?” He frowned and looked at himself. “I’ll eventually toast myself if I watch the movie in my hoodie.”
“Sure, but you’re stupid for wearing warm clothes in summer,” you commented.  
Jeno gave you a dirty look. “Sorry for assuming your A/C was in working condition. Besides, you always want to cuddle when we watch movies, so I figured you’d be more comfortable if I was wearing a hoodie.” 
Your cheeks warmed at that, your heart stumbling a beat. What was wrong with you? You’d always known Jeno was caring and went out of his way to do nice things for you.
Typically, you’d have felt grateful for how thoughtful he was being. 
Now, though, you felt that and… something else that you didn’t really want to acknowledge. 
“Whatever,” you said instead, trying to sound dismissive. Pushing him out of your room, you continued, “I’ll find it. Just hurry up with the bucket.” 
A few minutes after Jeno was gone, a notification popped up on your phone. 
[jeno]: clearer picture that i clicked on jaemin’s phone for your viewing pleasure :”) 
You blinked in confusion and opened the photo that was attached below, your eyes widening the moment you saw it. It was a zoomed-in gym mirror selfie of Jeno wearing nothing but sweatpants and shoes, his muscular abdomen on full display. 
[you]: did you crop jaemin? 
[jeno]: ???? [jeno]: wdym……. [you]: the photo’s dimensions are weird [jeno]: oh [jeno]: what the fuck [you]: LMFAOOO [jeno]: STOP I DIDN’T WANT YOU LOOKING AT HIM INSTEAD OF ME I’VE GOT A BETTER BODY ANYWAY AND I’M GONNA BUY A NEW PHONE SO I CAN SEND YOU CLEARER PICS WITHOUT HAVING TO CROP THAT FUCKER OUT 
You bit down on your lip to keep yourself from smiling too wide. Right before you were about to type a reply, you received another text from your best friend. 
[jeno]: so are you gonna tell me what you think [you]: FINE you’re hot. [you]: happy?  [jeno]: euphoric
Finally laughing out loud, you shook your head. 
Narcissus had nothing on Jeno indeed.
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02. female friends ask you to be their wingwoman 
You didn’t think you’d ever accompanied Jeno to a party without having someone ask you to set them up with him. 
“Please,” Yoo Jimin begged for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Yeji said he was single!” 
Sighing, you mentally cursed Yeji for inviting Jimin to Jeno’s party. “He is, but I’m not setting you up with him.” 
“Why?” Jimin demanded rather aggressively, making you wonder what it would take for her to quit nagging you. “Do you like him or something?” 
It took a concerning amount of effort for you to refrain from rolling your eyes. “I do not.” 
“Then what’s the problem?” 
“I don’t know, Jimin!” you finally burst and gestured at your surroundings. “Maybe I’m not too keen on helping you out because you followed me into the washroom and cornered me! Maybe I feel used because you’ve never shown much interest in me even though I’ve tried striking up a conversation with you several times before!”  
Jimin’s features softened, and she looked away. “You’re right,” she muttered, guilt and shame evident in her voice. “I’m sorry for jumping on you like that.” 
You immediately felt bad for snapping at her. Pursing your lips, you tried to cheer her up. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t need me to set you up with him anyway. I know we haven’t hung out much, but based on what I’ve heard about you from Yeji, you’re smart, funny and social. You have no reason to be nervous while approaching Jeno.” 
For some reason, you regretted encouraging Jimin to pursue your best friend. A gaping hole formed in your heart, and you wished she would go for someone else instead. 
“Thanks, Y/N.” Jimin smiled gratefully. “I know I’ve been a shitty person, but could you give me another chance? I’d really like to get to know you more.” 
And just like that, the hollowness in your chest was gone. You gave her a genuine smile of your own and said, “I gotta pee right now, but does lunch tomorrow work for you?”
Jimin’s eyes widened. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I forgot where we were.” Rubbing the nape of her neck sheepishly, she replied, “Lunch works. I’ll text you tonight so we can talk about it.” 
The two of you exchanged your goodbyes, and then she was gone. A few minutes later, you exited the washroom as well and headed back to the party. 
“I missed you,” a voice slurred in your ear. Arms circled around your waist, and a face buried itself into the crook of your neck. 
You laughed. “You failed the challenge, Jeno.” 
“Where were you?” he demanded in an almost whiny tone. “It’s your fault! I wouldn’t have lost at beer pong if you’d been playing with me.” 
Patting Jeno’s back in consolation, you replied, “I’m sorry you have zero self-control and commit to things you know you won’t be able to do.” 
Jeno peeled himself away from you and pouted. “You’re mean.”
“Thanks. Let’s get wasted together,” you said, but then added upon looking at his already tipsy condition, “Or I can get wasted, and your ass can keep me company.”  
“Don’t you think one of us should be sober?” Jeno asked as you pulled him along.
“I’m not gonna hold back from drinking!” you exclaimed. “Let me remind you that you were supposed to be the sober one today and make sure I didn’t do anything stupid. I’m blaming you if I get naked in the yard.” 
Thanks to the music that was gradually getting louder as you approached the main party area, you didn’t hear your best friend’s response. You tightened your grip on his hand when the crowd thickened. Wading your way through the dancing throng, you finally reached the table lined with alcohol and food. 
You chose a bottle of Romanov and popped it open, drinking straight from it. You’d barely taken a few gulps when Jeno snatched it from you and put it to his own mouth. 
Throwing him a dirty look, you picked up another bottle for yourself. “Do you wanna dance?”
“I wanna throw up.” 
“Suit yourself.” You shrugged and aimed for the dance floor. A smile crept on your face upon seeing Jaemin; you were not in the mood to dance alone. 
“Y/N!” he hollered when he noticed you. Stumbling towards you, he pulled you in a quick embrace. “I haven’t seen you in so long!” 
“Finals!” you answered. Jaemin nodded in understanding and ran a hand through his hair, taking a swig from his beer. “Do you wanna dance?” 
You grinned. “You know I do.” 
The next few hours were a complete blur. The bottle in your hand was replaced by more one after the other, and when Jaemin deemed you’d had enough to drink, he gave you a red solo cup filled with water instead. 
It felt good to finally unwind after the horrible few weeks you’d had. There was no academic stress weighing down on you anymore, and though you were low on sleep, you didn’t want to stop partying. 
You just wished you and Jeno had gotten wasted together. While you were having fun with Jaemin, partying with Jeno was a different experience entirely. 
Right as you were about to take a sip from your cup, you felt an arm being thrown around your neck. The touch was so familiar that you recognised who it was immediately. 
“I missed you!” you exclaimed. Jeno looked down at you with a grin on his face, a pair of black party glasses sitting on his nose. His hair was damp and fell over his forehead. Maybe it was the liquor in your system, but you could have sworn he never looked better. “Let’s dance.”
“Dance?” Jeno laughed. “Haven’t you been doing that for the past two hours? Don’t your feet hurt?” 
Frowning, you glanced at your legs. “They do!” you exclaimed, and looked back at him again, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout. Feeling tears beginning to pool in your eyes, you mumbled, “But I still want to dance.”
“How about we go on the roof instead? The stars look pretty tonight,” your best friend suggested, trying his best not to laugh at you. “I didn’t drink at all after you left me. I’m sober enough to take care of you now.” 
Your eyes lit up at that. “Wow, that’s such a good idea! You’re so smart, Jeno. I love you.”  
Jeno’s lips finally twitched up in a smile. “I love you too, silly.” 
Plucking the solo cup out of your hand, he offered you an arm. You looped yours through it with a soft thank you and leaned on him as he led you upstairs. 
The two of you entered his dark room, and Jeno shut the door behind him. Only when the loud music was muffled did you realise your head was throbbing.  
He unhooked your arms gently and grabbed a warm blanket off his bed. Throwing open his window, he jumped out on the flat roof and looked at you expectantly. 
You staggered behind Jeno and took the hand he was holding out for you. His other hand hovered over your waist as you climbed on the sill. 
Thanks to the alcohol in your system, your balance was non-existent, and your legs turned to jelly the moment they made contact with the roof. Fortunately, your best friend was there to catch you.
You bumped into Jeno’s chest instead of falling to the ground. He wrapped his arms around you and steadied you, laughing a little at your antics. 
“God, how much did you drink?” you heard him wonder to himself. You mumbled an incoherent response and leaned against the outside wall of his room, watching him lay the spread on the floor. 
The two of you usually climbed the ladder that led to the slanting roof at the very top of the house, but you reckoned the boy in front of you didn’t want to risk taking you up there when you were so wasted. 
Jeno sat down on the blanket once he was done and peeked at you over his shoulder, patting the space beside him. “Come on.” 
Pushing yourself off the siding, you stumbled to him, tripping over your feet a bit. You were able to keep your balance, though, and a moment later, you found yourself lying on the blanket next to him.
Your shoulders brushed against each other, the warmth from his body seeping into you. It was summer, but the night air was still chilly, especially now that you were on the roof. You were thankful for the protection Jeno offered against the mild cold. 
The music was blaring once again now that you were outside, and there were no barriers to deafen it, but the volume barely bothered you. Your eyes were on the stars, trying to identify the constellations.
“I see Orion right there,” Jeno said, pointing at the sky. You followed his finger, and sure enough, there it was. “And there’s Ursa Minor.” He moved his hand after noting that you had recognised Orion. 
“I don’t see it,” you muttered, blinking heavily to clear your sight. 
“Can you see Polaris?” he asked, glancing at you for a moment. 
You raised your hand and pointed it at a random star that was nowhere near the one Jeno was referring to. “There.” 
Jeno snorted. “You could spot Orion, but you can’t identify the brightest star in the sky?” Without waiting for a response, your best friend grabbed your arm and directed it to the right star. “That is Polaris.” 
“Woah.” You gaped and lowered your arm. “It’s so shiny.” 
Jeno laughed again upon hearing the child-like wonder in your voice. You stargazed often and always challenged each other to see who could identify the most constellations in a minute. He knew the night sky was familiar to you, but seeing you like this reminded Jeno of the first time he brought you to his roof and introduced you to his favourite hobby. 
“Do you want it?” he teased. 
Eyes widening, you turned your neck to look at him, your faces so close you could count his lashes. “Really?” 
“Really,” he said and pinched your cheek, unable to help himself. “I’ll get it for you.” 
A wide smile immediately broke across your lips, and you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you!” you squealed. 
Jeno chuckled, a little surprised that you had practically climbed on top of him, and part of him was caged under you now. He didn’t mind the sudden intimacy. It had always been his love language; any sort of physical contact with you—be it comparing hand sizes or carrying you on his back—warmed his heart. 
Patting your head, he asked, “You want me to show you the rest of Ursa Minor?” 
“Yes.” You nodded into the crook of his neck and peeled yourself away from him, but your head still rested where his shoulder met his arm. 
Brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen on your face, he averted his gaze to the sky. “Polaris is the tail of The Little Dipper. Now we move towards the left. See the star that’s above the brightest? That’s Delta. Epsilon is above Delta too, but the distance between them is not as much as the distance between the first two. Zeta is below—” 
You tuned Jeno out. He was still showing you the stars that made up the constellations, far too invested to notice that you were no longer paying attention to what he was saying and were looking at something much more beautiful instead. 
You’d always known your best friend was attractive. You’d have to be blind to not notice his striking features—they were sharp with a certain softness around the edges. His face always stood out in crowds and demanded people’s undivided attention. 
Rightfully so, you thought to yourself as you admired his perfectly straight nose and the shape of his soft lips, diverting your gaze to his eyes. You’d always thought they were his best features. They were warm and open and felt like home. It deserves to be appreciated. 
“Pherka, Eta, Kochab and Zeta form a—”
“You’re prettier.”
Jeno glanced at you, your faces mere inches away and those beautiful eyes peering into yours with slight confusion. “What?”
“You said the stars looked pretty tonight,” you whispered. “I think you’re prettier.” You paused for a moment, as if rethinking your words. Then, “I think you’re the prettiest person in the world.”
A fond smile crept on your best friend’s face, and maybe it was because your ear was in the vicinity of his heart, but you could have sworn you heard it thumping loudly against his ribcage. Lightly bumping his forehead against yours, Jeno whispered back, 
“I think you’re the prettiest person in the world too.” 
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03. it’s very easy to fall for them, especially when they’re always so sweet and caring
The first thing you felt upon regaining your consciousness was pain. 
Your skull was splitting apart, the little bit of sunlight creeping in through the closed curtains rendering you blind. Nausea was beginning to set in, but your body was so weak that you weren’t sure you could make it to the toilet in time. 
You should have never drunk so much. Not only had you not taken any proper rest after working yourself to exhaustion during your finals, but had also danced to the point you couldn’t move your legs. Heck, you couldn’t even remember much of the party. You recalled leaving Jeno behind to party with Jaemin, but everything after that was a huge blank slate. 
The toilet was far away, but you could try reaching the dustbin near the study table instead of just throwing up on the carpet. Groaning, you tried to push yourself up. When that didn’t work, you put all strength in your abdomen and threw yourself off the bed. 
A shockwave of agony passing through your body rendered you immobile on the ground. You moaned in pain and curled in on yourself, covering your mouth with a hand upon tasting bile on your tongue. 
The door was thrown open, and a worried Jeno gaped at you lying on his room’s hard floor motionlessly. “What the fuck?” 
“Dustbin,” you croaked with much difficulty, tears springing to your eyes. They hurt so much you wanted to rip them out. 
Your best friend moved into action immediately. “I kept the dustbin right beside the bed in case you got sick, you blind twat truck. Along with painkillers and water on the table.”  
You found it in yourself to glare at the boy, but he ignored you. Placing the waste basket in front of you, he helped you up. You gripped the rim as he gathered your hair in his hand and held it up to avoid it getting in the way of your vomit. 
Right before you emptied the toxins in your body, you managed to say to him, “How capable do I look to you right now, you stupid toe-licking grinch man?” 
Jeno rolled his eyes and rubbed your back with his other hand, patiently waiting for you to finish. Once your heaving stopped, you took the tissue he was holding out for you and wiped your mouth. You felt much better after throwing up but you were still so tired. 
“Come on.”
You swatted Jeno’s hand away and rested your back on his bed, tucking your legs under your chin. “Too much effort,” you muttered and closed your eyes, willing the headache to go away.
“I was going to carry you to the bed, Y/N,” he said in exasperation. 
“I just need a moment,” you whispered almost incoherently, wishing he would stop asking you questions when you had no energy to answer. “A moment and an Aspirin.” 
There was some shuffling, and then you felt a hand brushing your matted hair out of your face. “Here.”
You peeled your lids open to see Jeno crouched in front of you with water and the painkiller you had asked for. Taking it from his hand, you popped it into your mouth and gulped down some water. 
For a few moments, you tried to regulate your breathing and calm yourself down. Jeno could tell you were gathering the willpower and strength to climb back on his bed. He wanted to help, but you clearly didn’t want it. So, he just watched you silently struggle.
He should have been with you last night; he hated that he wasn’t when he had promised to be the sober half. As far as Jeno was concerned, Jaemin was going to get an earful about keeping tabs on how much his friends drank. Never in the two years of friendship had he seen you with such a huge hangover. 
“Fuck,” he heard you curse under your breath. You moaned in pain as you pushed yourself up on trembling arms and fell on his mattress. Sighing, Jeno tucked you in and pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 
“Sleep well,” he said and made his way to the door. “I’ll wake you up for lunch. Renjun is making grilled sandwiches.” 
Your eyes flew open again. Fuck. You were supposed to meet Jimin. 
“Jeno, wait,” you blurted, and he stopped in his tracks. “I was supposed to meet a friend for lunch, but I don’t think I can make it. Can you cover for me?” 
Your best friend leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. “Which friend?” 
“Jimin.” 
“I thought she ghosted you.” He frowned. “Now you’re meeting her for lunch?” 
“No, you are meeting her for lunch. I don’t wanna be rude and cancel at the last minute. What if she already left?”
“It’s 10 in the morning.”
“Well, what if she turned down other offers because of the plans we made?” 
“She left an hour ago with Mark after passing out on the couch in Hyuck’s room last night. I doubt she’s had the time to turn down any other offers. Actually, I think she’ll be glad you cancelled. She looked pretty hungover when she left.”
“Why are you being so difficult?” you whined, wincing when the throbbing in your head responded to the sudden increase in the volume of your voice. “I’m only asking you for a small favour.” 
“I’m not being difficult,” Jeno defended himself and took a few steps towards you. “I’m trying to tell you that you may be overthinking this. Let me send her a text from your phone asking for a reschedule, and we can have some homemade lunch with the guys.” 
Sighing heavily, you averted your gaze from his and stared at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna blow this. I think she’s really cool and I’d like to get to know her more. I’m good friends with everyone in our social circle except her. It’s awkward.” 
Jeno’s eyes softened at that. “Y/N, you’re not blowing anything. Rescheduling lunch because you both partied till you collapsed is not going to take away any points. Trust me.” 
Your best friend was right. You were overthinking this, but you didn’t exactly blame yourself. All your efforts to befriend Jimin had been futile till now. You didn’t want to do anything that could mess up the friendship that had begun to bloom last night. 
“Fine,” you finally relented. “Shoot her a text from my phone. I think it’s in my clothes bag—” you paused, your eyes widening. Lifting Jeno’s duvet in panic, you looked down at yourself. “Who changed my clothes?” 
“Ningning did!” Jeno answered quickly, the tips of his ears turning a bright red. He couldn’t understand why he was freaking out—nothing happened. 
You exhaled in relief, trying to get rid of the alien tingling feeling spreading throughout your body. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment. “Okay. Well, my phone’s in my clothes bag.” 
Jeno busied himself, rummaging through your backpack that was on his bedside table. What you didn’t know, however, was that it was just a front for him to calm himself down. “Got it.” He waved the phone at you. “What’s your pin?”
“Your birthday.”
His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, and a seed of warmth sprouted in his chest. A dizzying sense of affection for you washed over him, drenching him in happiness from head to toe. “Really?” 
You nodded and closed your eyes. Turning on your side to get into a more comfortable sleeping position, you buried yourself deeper under his sheets. Yawning, you mumbled, “Day-Month-Year with leading zeros.” 
“My password is your birthday too,” he said quietly after sending Jimin the text. “A lot of them are. It’s the easiest set of numbers to remember.”
You didn’t respond. Jeno didn’t mind. He knew you’d already fallen asleep. Keeping your phone on the table, he smiled sadly and stared at your resting figure in longing. “Everything about you is so easy to remember.”
Jeno closed the door behind him as he left, none the wiser about the fact that you were still awake and had heard everything he’d said, your heart beating so fast that you thought it was going to leap out of your chest. 
Your best friend left, completely unaware of the fact that you were now entertaining the possibility of being in love with him. 
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𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 !
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01. the green-eyed monster you resent makes an appearance more than you’d like
You genuinely couldn’t believe your friend group and their seemingly never-ending social battery. 
One would think that after a long night of partying, a person would stay at home the next day and take some much-needed rest. Your friends, however, thought it was a good idea to meet up for dinner and decide what to do over the weekend. 
You didn’t bother to remind them of the wonderful invention that was group chats. 
“We should drive up to the beach,” Mark suggested, flipping through the menu. “Summer just started, so I don’t think there will be a lot of people.” 
All of you were seated in a round booth at the back of a diner Chenle said he frequented. You weren’t going to lie; you could see why. The setting was very homey, and the cushioning of the sofa was very cosy—you were almost sure you were going to fall asleep even before your food arrived. 
Ningning, who was sitting beside Mark, peeked over his shoulder to see what was listed. Minjeong said, “That’s stupid. The start of summer is exactly when beaches get overcrowded. Most don’t get to visit the ocean during the year, so they make a beeline for the beach as soon as break begins.”  
“True,” you heard Jeno say. He leaned back in his seat and put his arm on the cushion behind you. You resisted the urge to lean in. Taking a sip of his water, he continued, “Besides, we’re already going to Jeju Island for a week next month. I don’t think we should drive three hours to go to the beach right now.” 
“What about karaoke?” Jimin piped up. She was sitting on the other side of Minjeong, opposite from Chenle, who was on the other side of the table. 
“We don’t need an entire weekend for just karaoke,” Chenle pointed out. “We could do it whenever we want.”
“Well, what about—” 
“Hey, can I take your order?” a female voice that was a combination of annoyed, upbeat, friendly and polite interrupted Minjeong. The girl looked a little flustered at being cut off, but she cleared her throat and mumbled a small yeah, just give us a minute.
The waitress did not move, so all of you awkwardly picked up the menu cards and began flipping through them. 
“The usual for me, Yuna,” Chenle said, smiling up at her. To diffuse the sudden tension created in the air, he began making small talk with her as she waited. 
“What are you eating?” Jeno asked. He was closer to you now, his eyes scanning the contents of the menu card in your hand over your shoulder. 
You shrugged. “I don’t think I’m eating anything. I’m not very hungry.” 
Jeno’s eyebrows creased, and he glanced at your face in worry. “You haven’t had anything since lunch. At least drink something.” 
“It’s fine.” You dismissed him with a wave of your hand and pushed the card in his direction so he could order whatever he wanted. “I won’t be able to finish anything by myself and I don’t wanna waste food.” 
“How about we share?” he insisted. “You eat however much you want, and I’ll finish the rest. Don’t go to sleep on an empty stomach.” 
An internal battle began. While Jeno’s suggestion was sensible, you knew he didn’t like to share his food with anyone. You remembered a time when he had refused to go on a second date with a girl because she kept nibbling on his meal. You didn’t want him to do something he hated just for your sake. 
“Really, it’s fine,” you repeated. “You go ahead and—”
“Hey, Y/N,” Yeji called, making you divert your attention to her. “You wanna share a triple-decker chicken sandwich? Chenle said this place is famous all over town for that dish.” 
You had to admit, a triple-decker chicken sandwich did sound tasty. But you’d just turned down Jeno, so you didn’t wanna say yes to Yeji. Shaking your head, you once again said, “I’m not hungry.”
“Why aren’t you hungry?” Mark frowned, overhearing your conversation. The rest of your friend group looked at you in concern. Ningning asked, “Are you okay?” 
You groaned. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to everyone why you didn’t have an appetite. “I’m okay. I’m just not hungry because I had a lot for lunch.”
“That’s a lie,” Jeno commented unhelpfully, and you smacked his shoulder hard in retaliation. He winced, rubbing the area of attack. “Hey!” 
“Shut up!” you exclaimed. Taking a deep breath, you said to everyone with as little annoyance in your voice as you could, “Please just order what you want. I still feel a little weird after last night’s party, and I don’t think I can stomach anything right now.” Before anyone could reply, you added, “I’m going to the restroom. Be right back.” 
Yeji looked a little stunned, but she got up from her seat and let you leave the booth when you requested her to move. Locking yourself in one of the stalls, you clutched your stomach and curled in on yourself, closing your eyes. 
Your period cramps were especially painful this time. Maybe it was because of last night’s exertion, but your cycle was early too. Your stomach was in too many knots for you to even think about eating anything. 
The washroom’s door opened, and you heard soft footsteps trudging towards you. Knocking on the only occupied stall’s door, a female voice asked, “Is everything okay, Y/N?” 
“Yeah,” you croaked, feeling tears burning your eyes. “Everything’s fine, Jimin. I just have period cramps, that’s all.” 
“Oh.” There was silence for a moment. “I have painkillers. Do you want them?” 
Exhaling through your mouth, you wiped your moist cheeks and stepped out of the stall. “Sure.”
Jimin smiled at you reassuringly and handed you a wet wipe, looping her arm through yours. “Don’t worry. I got you.”
Your heart swelled with happiness and gratitude. You’d wanted to connect with her for so long, and it finally felt like you were getting somewhere this time. Maybe you were being overemotional due to your fluctuating hormones, but you wanted to pull her into a hug.
“Oh, also,” you started a little sheepishly, “I wanted to apologise in person about cancelling on you earlier today. I drank and partied more than I should have. I thought about sending Jeno to cover for me, but he pointed out that it would have been awkward for you to see him when you were expecting me.”
“Woah, wait!” she gaped and took a step away from you. The shock on her face surprised you for a moment, but the feeling didn’t last long. “You’re kidding me! You should have kept insisting, Y/N! A lunch date would have been the perfect way for us to get closer!”
“I don’t think he would have considered the lunch a date because he was just a stand-in for me,” you said awkwardly, and threw the used wipe in the dustbin. 
Jimin waved you away as you walked out of the restroom and back to your booth. “I mean, yeah, it wouldn’t have been an official date, but it would have given me the opportunity to ask him out on a real one.”
“Right.”  
You hated the way you sounded. You hated the way your stomach churned, and your mood dropped. You hated that someone was pursuing Jeno. You hated that you were being forced to play Cupid, all thanks to your strong refusal to admit your feelings and the friendship you wanted to build with the girl next to you. 
“Oh, my God!” Jimin exclaimed, too immersed in her own fantasies to have noticed the change in your tone and demeanour. “I can make up for the missed opportunity by sitting next to him right now! You wouldn’t mind, would you?” 
You did mind. The idea of her making a move on your best friend made you want to dig a hole and cry. God, you were being so pathetic. This was completely unlike you, and you despised the way you were acting. You had to pull yourself together immediately. 
Besides, it wasn’t like you were ever going to explore these newfound feelings you had for Jeno. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin your friendship. Forcing an encouraging smile on your face, you said, “Um, sure! That’s a really good idea.”
“Took you guys long enough,” Chenle commented once you returned. 
You raised an eyebrow. “Did you have any other places to be?” 
“I mean I was worried.” He rolled his eyes. “We ordered food while you were gone. You sure you don’t want anything, Y/N?” 
“Yep,” you said, popping the last letter. “Scoot over and make space for us.” 
Yeji got up again and stood to the side as Jimin, and you slid into the booth. “The two of you better not make me get up again. I’m not budging even if you need to take a big dump.” 
“Sorry,” you muttered, smiling at her sheepishly. Making yourself comfortable, you grabbed your glass of water and dipped a straw in it, idly sipping the liquid. 
Jeno’s gaze caught yours from behind Jimin’s back. He pointed at her with a frown on his face and mouthed, “Why is she sitting beside me?” 
You waved him away and turned your attention to the rest of your friends. “Please tell me you guys finally decided what we’re doing over the weekend.”
“We did,” Mark piped up. “We’re thinking of going to an amusement park and then a water park.”
Jimin frowned. “Won’t those places be crowded as well?” 
“We just need to accept that most destinations will be. Everyone’s on break, so it doesn’t matter where we go. There will be people everywhere.” 
You agreed with Minjeong. “Amusement park it is. Can we hit the bars at night?”
“It won’t be much of a trip if we don’t.” Ningning grinned. “You sure you want to go clubbing so soon though? You were completely wasted when Jeno called me to his room and made me change your clothes last night.”
Mark snickered. “Are you scared of changing your own girlfriend’s clothes, Jeno?”  
Silence. No one spoke. 
NingNing was staring at Mark incredulously, and Yeji seemed to be suffering through an extreme case of second-hand embarrassment. Chenle pretended to flip through the menu while Minjeong grabbed her phone and scrolled through the apps on her home screen in an attempt to look busy. 
Jimin whirled to face you so fast that you wondered how her neck hadn’t snapped. You couldn’t even dare to look at Jeno to see what reaction Mark’s words had evoked out of him. 
Laughing awkwardly, you asked, “Who said we’re dating?” 
“You’re kidding me, right?” Mark scoffed in disbelief. “You guys are so bad at keeping your relationship private. Everyone knows there’s something going on between the two of you.” 
“Is that true?” Jeno asked, but no one present at the table dared to meet his gaze. “Do all of you think there’s something going on between Y/N and me?” 
“I mean….” Chenle began, dragging the word out. “You both are very close. People who claim to be just friends don’t cross the boundaries you two step all over everyday. But we’ve never seen you kiss either, so we’re not sure if you’re dating secretly or…” 
“You guys are crazy,” you interrupted. “Stop speculating about our relationship. It’s weird.” Turning to face a very betrayed-looking Jimin, you enunciated, “Jeno and I are just friends. That’s all there is to us.”
“Yeah,” Jeno added, glancing at you. “Y/N and I will only ever be friends. There’s no way I would date her. I don’t find her attractive in a romantic way.” 
Feeling a knot form in your heart and anger bubble in the pit of your stomach, you snapped, “Same. Jeno’s not even my type. I wouldn’t get together with him if we were the only people left on Earth.” 
Your friends exchanged knowing glances, and poor Jimin, who was stuck sitting between Jeno and you, made an attempt to diffuse the tension. “Okay, guys. We get it.” 
“I’m not sure you do,” Jeno hissed, staring all your friends down. “I can see your damn faces. The only way you’re going to believe I’m not into Y/N is if I prove it to you by going out with someone else.” 
Minjeong began, “That’s not—” 
“No, he’s right,” you fumed. Under the table, your hand curled into a fist. “The only way you guys are going to get this stupid image of Jeno and me being together romantically is if we date other people.” 
“The two of you are overreacting!” Yeji exclaimed. “There’s no need to get so defensive! We were wrong for assuming, and Mark was an idiot for opening his fat mouth. I’m sure you both would have told us if there was something. We’re all sorry.” 
There was a chorus of agreement on the table. Everyone genuinely seemed to be apologetic—except Mark, who was glaring at Yeji and looked mad for being called an idiot. His eyes met yours, and a sheepish smile took form on his lips. 
You huffed a small laugh and shook your head, but your heart was still in knots. There was a certain hollowness in the pit of your stomach. You felt sick and anxious. 
Did Jeno really have to say all those hurtful things just to convince your friends about your platonic relationship? He didn’t need to sound so offended and make your mutual denial a competition. 
Sure, you were the one who had declared there would never be anything more than just friendship between Jeno and you, but he didn’t have to cross the line by saying you weren’t appealing to him. 
Besides, you’d said what you’d said for Jimin. You didn’t actually mean the words that left your mouth. Considering the emotions you’d been feeling recently, it would be a lie to claim you didn’t hope for a different sort of future with Jeno. 
It didn’t matter anyway. A romantic relationship between the two of you wasn’t practical. Your best friend had never so much as hinted at wanting something more. 
In a twisted way, you were glad he said those wounding things. You needed to be pulled back to reality.
“Hey, Jeno,” you heard Jimin say once the food arrived and everyone started eating. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch and watch a movie sometime this week?” 
Bile rose to your throat. You hoped to God he would say no. You didn’t care if you were being a shitty person; you didn’t think you could take any more of this torture. 
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
Your eyes were trained on your glass of water, but you didn’t need to look at him to know he was surprised. As much as you hated eavesdroppers, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to learn where this conversation was going. 
“I am.” Jimin chuckled nervously.
Jeno didn’t reply immediately. The rest of your friends were engaged in their own discussions with the people sitting next to them. The table wasn’t silent by any means, but the only things you could hear were Jimin waiting for his answer with bated breath and the pounding of your heart in your chest. 
Then, “I would be honoured.”
Oh, you were most definitely going to throw up.
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02. you fall for them
You hadn’t talked to Jeno ever since dinner with your group.
He hadn’t reached out to you, and you hadn’t tried to contact him either. You’d received a text from Jimin the next day about the specifics of her date with Jeno. They were supposed to meet up for lunch at a restaurant near your college campus and then go out to watch some sappy rom-com. 
He didn’t even care for rom-coms. You’d begged him to watch one with you countless times and he’d always turned you down. Part of you wondered if he knew Jimin was updating you about everything and he was purposely pulling this shit to get back at you. 
But you dismissed the notion immediately. No way were you so dense and self-centred. Maybe Jeno genuinely was into Jimin. 
Your phone began ringing, and you rolled over on your bed, blindly searching for it on your bedside table. God, you hated being woken up in the middle of your afternoon naps. It almost always guaranteed a headache. 
“Hello,” you said groggily, your throat raw and dry. “Who is this?” 
“Oh! Did I wake you up?” It was Jimin. She sounded upbeat. Your heart sank. “I’m so sorry!” 
Pushing yourself up, you rubbed the gunk out of your eyes and made your way to the window. The darkness made you bump into the corner of your study table, and you bit down on your lip to keep a yelp from escaping. Hobbling, you threw the curtains open and said, “No worries. My alarm was just about to ring. How was the date?” 
Laughter bubbled from the other end of the phone line. “It was cool! He is a really good guy. No wonder everyone is head over heels for him. He opened the door for me, didn’t let me spend any money even though I asked him out, was an excellent listener, called me pretty and beautiful, and drove me back home. Oh, God, and the eye-contact? It made him a hundred times sexier.” 
Seems legit, you thought to yourself. Jeno had always been a gentleman. The other girls you’d set him up with had pretty much given you the same feedback. Part of you felt relieved that this date hadn’t been any different than the others he’d been on. 
Except the rom-com part, of course. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why he would agree to something he hated. 
“Ah, I’m happy for you, Jimin!” you exclaimed, trying your best to mean what you said. Your own words tasted like ash on your tongue. “Are you guys going on a second date?” 
“I’m not sure, to be honest. He said he had a great time with me, but when I tried to ask him out again, he just hugged me. That took me by surprise, and I kinda just forgot.” She laughed. “I know good dates usually end with a kiss, but the fact that he didn’t go for one didn’t bother me.”
“Oh,” you mumbled. Sitting on the ledge of your window, you asked, “That sounds nice. Do you think you’ll try asking him again?”
The last thing you expected her to say was no. And the way she said it… she didn’t sound sad or upset or disappointed. She sounded like herself. She sounded the way one would when they talked about the weather. 
It confused you. Didn’t Jimin just say the date was really good? She sounded so happy and delighted. Why was she backing out now?
“I—I don’t get it,” you sputtered. “I thought you were into him. I thought you had a great time today. Why aren’t you going to ask him out again? Did something else happen—?”
“Calm down.” She chuckled. “Nothing happened.” 
“Huh? Then what’s the problem?”
“Nothing happened,” she repeated. “That’s the problem. I like Jeno. He’s attractive, funny and caring. He’s everything a girl would want in a guy. But there was no spark between us. I had a great time with him, but hanging out today didn’t feel any different than usual. It felt like I was hanging out with a good friend, not with a potential romantic interest.
“I was looking forward to exploring what I felt for him. Turns out, it was just physical attraction. It also turns out that he wasn’t into me at all. If it wasn’t obvious the night we all went out for dinner, it was glaringly clear today. I think part of the reason he said yes was that he didn’t want to hurt my feelings,” she added. “The other—major—part was that he’s in love with someone else, and I would rather die than be a homewrecker.”    
“Oh,” you said again. You didn’t know how to respond to that. What did she mean Jeno is in love with someone else? You didn’t dare focus on the last part of what she’d said. You didn’t dare hope that the person she was referring to was you. “Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out between the two of you. I’m sure you’ll find someone else easily. You’re a delight. Anyone would be lucky to date you.”
Jimin laughed again. “If you weren’t in love with Jeno too, Y/N, I would have thought you were into me.” 
It took a second for the words to register, but when they did, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Forcing yourself to laugh, you croaked, “Whatever do you mean?” 
Saying that was a mistake. You should not have asked her to elaborate. She was going to make you come to terms with your feelings, and all the time and effort you’d spent denying and trying to get rid of them was going to go down the drain. 
Before she could speak, you made a static sound with your mouth. Then, you pretended that the connection was really bad. “Wha—hear—you. Try—back. Hell—?” 
You hung up before Jimin could call you out on your bullshit. A moment later, you saw a text pop up. 
[jimin]: that was soooo unsubtle  [y/n]: idk what ur talking ab!!!!!!! [jimin]: sure [jimin]: also a tiny heads up [jimin]: i told jeno to stop being a pussy and an asshole so he’s on his way 2 ur place now [y/n]: WHAT THE FUCK [jimin]: i’m going 2 pretend u said thank u [jimin]: don’t forget ab our dinner date tmrw [jimin]: have fun <3 
It was crazy how the bell rang almost immediately after you read the last text. You wondered if the timing was planned and that Jimin had told Jeno to wait till she gave him the go-ahead. 
You trudged to the front door and took a deep breath before opening it.
“Hey,” Jeno mumbled with a small smile. His hair was ruffled, as if he had run his hands through it several times. “Can I come in?” 
Biting the inside of your cheek, you nodded and moved out of the way to make space for him to step inside. He shoved his hands inside the pockets of his jeans and stood awkwardly. 
“You can sit,” you said, feeling the corners of your lips curl up in amusement. 
He sighed and wove his fingers through his strands again. “Not before I apologise for my behaviour. I was completely out of line that day,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them.” 
“So you don’t think I’m unattractive?” 
You meant to tease him, but the next thing you knew, he was standing toe-to-toe with you, a desperate and guilt-ridden expression adorning his face. “God, no. You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I only said that because… because I knew it would hurt you.” 
Jeno was standing too close to you. You could barely breathe, much less think. But that didn’t stop you from asking, “Why would you want to hurt me?” 
He didn’t answer for what felt like an entire minute. He only kept staring at you, an internal battle raging inside him. Then, he let loose a breath of frustration and moved away. He refused to look at you, and your patience kept slipping with each moment that passed. 
Right when you thought it would snap, Jeno spoke up, “It hurt me when you said you and I would only ever be friends. I know how stupid it sounds, but it really did. For years, I’d been pining after you and hoping that maybe we could be something more in the future. I felt like an idiot when I realised wouldn’t ever view me in that light. 
“You got so defensive when Chenle said all our friends were suspicious of us being in a secret relationship. I couldn’t help but wonder if you felt disgusted at the idea of us being together. I got angry at myself for being naive and said those horrible things without even realising.” 
You didn’t know what to say. This was the second time you’d been rendered speechless in the past thirty minutes. It was one revelation after the other; you were having a hard time keeping up.
“You—you like me?” you stuttered. 
Jeno laughed humourlessly and looked you dead in the eyes. “I love you, Y/N.” 
“No.” 
“Yes.” 
You took a step back. “No, no, no, no—”
“Yes,” he pressed. “I’m sorry that I do. I know this changes everything, but I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I just—”
“Why would you go out with Jimin if you… if you love me?” you whispered. 
“Partly to see your reaction and partly in an attempt to get over you,” he admitted. “It didn’t work. I just—I just couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time I was with her. I felt so guilty for saying such terrible things because I couldn’t deal with my emotions and come to terms with reality. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” 
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m sorry too.”
“You don’t have to apologise for not loving me back—”
“That’s not what I’m apologising for,” you interrupted and walked towards him until your abdomens were touching. “I’m apologising for not seeing it sooner. I’m apologising for encouraging Jimin to ask you out even though it killed me. I’m apologising for denying my feelings time and time again. I’m apologising for saying we would only ever be friends. The last thing I want is for our relationship to be platonic.” 
Jeno was barely breathing. “What are you saying?” 
“I’m saying I love you too, Lee Jeno,” you mumbled and stood on your toes, cupping cheeks with your palms. “I’m saying I want you to kiss me.” 
The words didn’t register immediately, but his lips were on yours the moment they did. 
Jeno’s arm snaked around your waist, and he pulled you closer. His hand grabbed your neck from behind, and he tilted his neck to the side, deepening the kiss. 
Your breath hitched in your throat. All you could feel was him. Your nerve-endings were short-circuiting, and pure adrenaline was coursing through your veins. You didn’t think you’d ever been as satisfied and euphoric as you were right now.
Jeno’s lips slotted with yours perfectly. You smiled to yourself upon realising he tasted like chocolates. Your best friend always ate a piece before any event he deemed to be very important. He claimed they gave him good luck. 
Letting go of one of his cheeks, you grabbed the round collar of his shirt and pressed your mouth harder against his. The nights you’d spent wondering how kissing him would feel and then hating yourself immediately for having such thoughts amounted to this. 
You didn’t want to hold back. 
But you had to ask him a question. It didn’t matter how stupid or ridiculous it was; you wanted to know the answer. So, you broke the kiss and inquired with your body still tangled with his, “Why the hell did you agree to watch a rom-com with Jimin?” 
“Really?” he asked exasperatedly. “You wanna talk about Jimin while we’re making out?” 
“I wanna know why you watched a rom-com with her when I’ve been begging you to watch one with me for so long,” you corrected. 
Jeno was silent for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to tell you. You raised an eyebrow. “Well,” he started, blowing out a breath. “She told me you set her up with me, and it pissed me off even more. I knew she’d tell you all about our date, so I suggested we watch a rom-com. I knew you’d be riled up once you realised.” 
You snorted. Who knew? You weren’t actually being a self-centred narcissist when you suspected the same. “You’re an idiot. I was already riled up you were going out with her.” 
“Oh, yeah?” he teased. “Why’d you encourage her in the first place then?”
“Honestly, at first, I thought I could use you to further my friendship with her,” you admitted. Jeno scoffed in disbelief. “Yeah, I know. That was kinda shitty of me. But when I realised I was falling for you, I pushed her to pursue you in an attempt to convince myself I was not into you. That obviously backfired and did the very opposite. I was horribly miserable. I wanted to shoot myself everytime I heard her gush about you.” 
He smirked. “She gushed about me?” 
“Oh, get over yourself.” You shoved his shoulder playfully. “How’d you end up here after your date? Jimin texted me that you were coming.”
“Tough, but I’ll try.” He laughed. “She was probably able to tell how disinterested I was. After the date when I dropped her home and hugged her instead of kissing her, she just confronted me and asked if I was in love with you. Then told me to not bother answering because it was obvious. She said she didn’t want to get in the middle of us and threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t come here to make amends immediately.” 
You grinned. “Oh, the things I would have done to witness that scene.” 
“It was scary.” Jeno frowned. “She hit my shoulder really hard when I said I was in love with you and called me an idiot for going out with her. I think she was angry at herself too for being oblivious to our situationship. It was one of the weirdest dates I’ve ever been on.” 
“Jimin actually said she had a great time with you. She told me it was nice.”
“Really?” he asked, sounding surprised. 
You placed a chaste kiss on Jeno’s mouth. “Hmm, I wonder how good the best date you’ve ever been on would be then.” 
He chased your lips and kissed you back deeply. Caressing your cheekbone with stars twinkling in his eyes, Jeno said, “I guess we’ll know when I take you out.”
“No way, are you officially asking me out on a date, Lee Jeno?” you asked, and let out a fake gasp. 
“Damn right I am,” he declared. “I don’t want the amusement park trip with our friends to be our first day out as a couple. Do you wanna grab some food tomorrow afternoon? We can go to the trampoline park before that.” 
You smiled softly. “That sounds wonderful. But,” you added. “No more flirting with restaurant staff for free food, or I’ll go ballistic on you.” 
Jeno laughed, and you thought it was the most beuatiful sound you had ever heard. His chest rumbled with the force of it, his eyes creasing to look like small crescent moons. Slipping his hand into yours, he squeezed once. 
“Wouldn’t even dream of it.” 
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note: THANK U FOR READING TILL THE END WHAT ??? loads of hugs and kisses :’)) also i know i said this before but posting after a rlly long time has lowkey made me anxious LOLL i think i could have done better with the fic esp the end bc it’s a little rushed. honestly speaking i am ready to move on to my next wip and i don’t wanna spend more time rewriting this one :(( i still love this piece though and i would definitely love to hear your thoughts amigos!! stay healthy and hydrated <33
thank you to mira for coming in clutch and helping me out with the plot when i was stuck + giving me her honest opinion! thank you to dori too for reading parts of this fic and giving me her opinion as well! i love you both :D
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andvys · 9 months
Text
I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6
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Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.
Word count: 6k+
A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe &lt;;3
series masterlist
-
Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up. 
He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.
How will he keep going? 
Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one. 
The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment. 
“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles. 
The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.” 
“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer. 
The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar. 
“Hey Tony.” 
Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling. 
“Hey Ed, how’s it going?” 
Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?” 
Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.” 
Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.” 
“With what?” 
Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.
“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.” 
“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve. 
“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?” 
Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is. 
“Get lost, freak.” 
“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.
Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness. 
“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back. 
Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read. 
“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either. 
Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales. 
It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room. 
Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave. 
Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about? 
Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing? 
How did you even meet him? 
You never even talked to him when you were still with him. 
“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.” 
Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.” 
“Tell your old man to come by too.”
“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves. 
Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie. 
“Hey! This is too much, kid!” 
“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there. 
Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up. 
“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes. 
Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van. 
“What do you want, Harrington?” 
Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.
“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him. 
Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?” 
Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”
“Why do you wanna know?”
Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now. 
“You’re the stoner.”
Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.” 
Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?” 
Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?” 
“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily. 
A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance. 
“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation. 
“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up. 
“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?” 
The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t. 
Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around. 
“Put those keys away, dude.”
“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion. 
“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”
Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson. 
“I’ll walk.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”
It’s not about that, it’s about you. 
Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance. 
“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.” 
Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van. 
Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”
Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on. 
“Your music sucks.”
“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.
Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot. 
The song takes him back to last year, back to you. 
“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap. 
“A Song?" He asked, chuckling. 
You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist. 
“Uh– probably, Heroes.” 
“By David Bowie?” 
“Yeah.” 
You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.
“Isn’t it sad though?” 
Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did. 
“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,
and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?” 
Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing. 
He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”
“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!” 
 “Then keep going.”
“No,” you giggled. 
“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”
You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips. 
“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang. 
You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed. 
“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.” 
“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat. 
Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest. 
Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve. 
“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like? 
Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie. 
“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van. 
Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.
Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew. 
He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault. 
He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little. 
“We’re here.” 
Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley. 
“I miss her.”
Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat. 
“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”
“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?” 
Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick. 
“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”
Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again. 
“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.”
Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that. 
“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.” 
Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods. 
“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.” 
Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?” 
Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much? 
Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him. 
“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more. 
“Spit it out, dude.” 
Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm. 
“T-Take care of her?” 
Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.
“I will.”
Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit. 
He walks away when he feels like breaking down again. 
He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips. 
He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how? 
How? 
-
You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up. 
How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable. 
Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle. 
Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.
“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick. 
She hums, glancing at you through your mirror. 
Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave. 
“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?” 
“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.
She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray. 
“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.” 
Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie. 
“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”
You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”
“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.
“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face. 
“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”
“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her. 
She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.
You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face. 
“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night. 
You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you. 
She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.
The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.
The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones. 
Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave? 
“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks. 
You nod, smiling at her. 
“You seem a little overwhelmed.” 
“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.” 
“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes. 
Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned. 
“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.” 
He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.” 
“As always,” you snort.  
“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you. 
“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”
She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.
“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you. 
“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.” 
He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously. 
“Y/n?” Heather glares at you. 
“Have fun, babe.” 
You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it. 
You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates. 
A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup. 
“Hey.”
You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore. 
“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”
You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing. 
He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness. 
“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch. 
“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.
“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse. 
He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him. “She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”
You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it. 
You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away. 
You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him. 
You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink. 
You wish you would have stayed at home. 
You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks. 
You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.
His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened. 
He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly. 
None of it makes sense to you. 
If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened? 
Why is he still with her? 
Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along? 
The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill? 
Are they already going downhill? 
Is that why he told you he still loves you? 
So that he has someone to come back to? 
You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse. 
Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep. 
It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better. 
You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat. 
“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?” 
Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.
A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”
“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”
You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks. 
You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle. 
“You look beautiful, sweetheart!” 
He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you. 
“Thank you, Eddie.” 
He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.” 
“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head. 
He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.” 
You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always. 
“You look amazing, Eddie.”
He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up. 
“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.
You can’t even help but giggle. 
“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance. 
He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”
Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?” 
He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes. 
“My knight in shining armor,” you tease. 
He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them. 
A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear. 
"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders. 
“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.
“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh. 
Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear. 
The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.
Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do. 
Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.
You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.
“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him. 
“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”
Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”
“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly. 
“Okay,” she smiles. 
When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him. 
But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden. 
His are filled with longing and sadness. 
Yours are filled with indifference. 
You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself. 
Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.
“Do you want to get out of here?” 
"Yes, please." 
next part
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stsgluver · 9 months
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TAKE ME BACK TO BEFORE – gojo satoru
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summary. based off of this drabble. satoru loses his best friend, and, in the process, loses you too. PART ONE OF FOUR.
wc. 4.4k
tags. ANGST <33333 some fluff at the beginning, slight mention of some suggestive activities, cliff-hanger ending (neither happy nor sad), might be swearing I can't remember and it's 12am I'm too tired to check, may include spelling mistakes
a/n. sorry some bits are a little rushed but I wanted the focus on yn and gojo without making it too long!! hope you enjoy (unknown whether i'll pt2 it, might just leave it to the imagination)!!!! this is also my first long long piece of writing so i’m happy to accept any criticism xxx
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chapped lips kiss along the back of your neck, soft hair tickling with each movement. you can feel the heat of the sun that peaks though the half closed curtains – satoru’s fault since the additional two seconds that would take is two seconds that he’s not with you and god forbid he’s not wrapped around you like a koala.
like right now.
you daren’t not open your eyes yet, enjoying the peace of being gently pampered by your boyfriend’s love as his kisses move down your shoulders and his fingers draw circles on your thighs and tummy. one leg is slotted neatly between yours and for a few blissful moments, he’s not the strongest sorcerer alive and you’re not his semi-grade one girlfriend that is constantly scrutinised for not coming from a well known clan. in their eyes you weren’t worthy to be in bed with a special grade. not that that had ever stopped you or gojou.
“i know you’re awake,” satoru murmurs against your skin, lifting his head up so that it rests against your shoulder. his voice is laced with sleep and you’re sure he hasn’t been awake much longer than you. he squeezes you impossibly closer, his bare chest against your back and your lips tilt up in a smile at the fact you’re the only one who will ever be this close to him. able to touch and kiss every inch of his skin with no infinity acting as a barrier.
after the fight with toji, gojo had reached a state of enlightenment. he declared himself the honoured one and suddenly you, suguru and gojo were no longer doing missions together. in fact, gojo would practically drop off the face of the earth for several weeks at a time as the higher ups took advantage of his new-found skills. you and suguru coped but it had changed the dynamic of your relationships entirely so these mornings were easily your favourite time of the day.
“i preferred it when you didnt speak,” you lie, twisting round in his arms to face him. it was becoming more of a rarity to see your boyfriend without his glasses on. as his power grew stronger, the consequential headaches were only worsening and shoko could only counter his cursed technique so much. “more kisses please.” squeezing your eyes shut and puckering your lips in an over-exaggerated manner, you hear satoru snicker lightly but he complies nonetheless.
one hand dips under your head to lightly grasp ahold of your hair, ensuring you stay tightly against him. the other reaches down, skimming past your shorts to grasp your thigh and pull it over his leg so your body is pressed against his. his hands are so gentle but they leave a fiery heat in their path that makes you wish you weren’t at the jujutsu high dorms with your friends either side of you.
“so demanding,” he mocks, his voice muffled against your lips. you’re almost embarrassed by how hard you’re trying to swallow the whine that’s stuck at the back of your throat. and satoru knows, he always knows, and he pinches your thigh as your hand wraps around his neck.
you bite down on his lip and squeeze your hand and he’s gasping and you’re kissing him harder until, finally, oxygen catches up to you both. satoru keeps you close, your foreheads pressed against one anothers as your quickened breaths mingle.
it’s a few more seconds till your heart has calmed down enough to hear yourself think and you open your eyes to see his ocean blue ones already staring at you. if your cheeks weren’t already red from your small make out, they definitely were now under his powerful gaze, so full of love and adoration.
satoru sees you so clearly, you look like an angel to him. sure, he has a strip from a photo booth of the two of you folded in the back pocket of his uniform at all times and hundreds of pictures of you on his phone to look back at when he’s away from you. but seeing you like this so up close is an image he wants branded into his brain permanently.
“we don’t have class today,” satoru says suggestively, drawing dangerously high circles that have you shuddering in anticipation.
your thumb brushes against his chin, tickled against the slight stubble that he’d shave off once you got out of bed. “what are you proposing?” you hum with a grin.
satoru enunciates each of his words with a wet kiss to your lips, cheek, nose and jaw, “you, me and a whole morning of s-” 
there’s a sharp knock against the door and satoru rolls over onto his side of the bed, letting out a very loud and very mature whine. you giggle quietly and press one last kiss to the crook of his neck, telling him to go speak to whoever it is. with a grumbled who the fuck is cockblocking the honoured one, satoru complies and slides off of the bed to find his pyjama pants to at least look half decent.
you watch him lazily, and you think you could fall back asleep if it weren’t for the fact your body is buzzing from the simple make out session. it was scary to admit the power satoru had over you.
“i’m trying to spend quality time with my girlfriend kento, this better be good,” satoru whines as he slides open his dorm door. you could almost picture nanami’s disgusted expression at the half-clothed, six-foot-something sorcerer who, quite frankly, was acting like a child.
“i need your help exorcising a few grade threes that were spotted,” nanami admits in a monotone voice but your heart instantly sinks.
“you’re grade two-” satoru tries to argue but you hiss gojo and the simple use of his family name has him reconsidering. clicking his tongue, he nods once at nanami with a more serious expression than is usually worn by the special grade, “give me five and i’ll be there.”
“i’ll be outside. bye yn.”
“stay safe kento!” you call back to him as you hear his footsteps get further away. 
satoru slowly closes the door. any trace of the sexual desires that were in the room previous have dissipated into a quiet sombre. he’s silent for a few moments before he turns his attention back to you, carefully assessing your response.
you stare up at the ceiling for a few more moments before you meet the eyes of your boyfriend. there’s an unspoken name between you and both of you are scared to say what you’re thinking.
the mission had initially meant to be one for you: it was supposed to be just a couple of grade two curses. easy. but you’d pushed yourself too hard the day before during train and could barely walk on your left leg. shoko had been away with family so the higher ups made the executive decision to send nanami and him. 
things went nasty quickly with the information being all wrong and satoru was the one who ultimately exorcised the curses as the rest of you mourned over what remained of his body. it didn’t matter that almost twelve months had passed. the guilt of ‘what if’ still tormented your memories and you’d be lucky if you went a week without seeing him in your dreams.
“i love you.” you turn your body to the left to see satoru having knelt down just in front of the bed. his icy blue eyes were filled to the brim with concern and pity for your situation. with satoru so often being away for missions now, you two had struggled to work through your guilt as you tried to pull further and further away from him. 
you offer him a small smile for reassurance. “i love you too.”
“always?” he tilts his head and grins. it didn’t take a genius to figure out that satoru had two very clear and distinctive love languages: physical touch and affirmations. he didn’t need the reassurance but there was just something about hearing you profess your love for him over and over that made his heart soar. 
you reach out to hold his face, and he practically purrs as he nestles himself closer into your touch. “of course pretty boy. who else would put up with your tantrums?”
“tantrums?! i would never,” satoru says, appalled by the accusations so much so he holds your wrists and kisses both palms of your hands. “that hurt my feelings.”
“you’ll be okay.” you roll your eyes, but your lips have quirked into a small smile and satoru mirrors it with a with a wide as he classes that as a  success. he places one little kiss to your lips, sighing reluctantly as he knows he’s got to leave you. 
despite the fact he was getting ready to go on a mission and not spend the day on a date with you, you do love the view of watching him get dressed. his back muscles in particular as he pulls a white shirt over his head that you wish you could bite—
“help?”
since you had started slipping into satoru’s room and spending the night, you two had formed a codependent morning routine. one part of which being the fact that satoru seemed to lose all ability to button up his uniform jacket the second you were in his bed. 
you shrug off the duvet and slip off of his bed to stand in front of him where he stood awaiting. a silence settles between the two of you as your hands gently pull his jacket together and slot each of the buttons into place. his glasses remain in his hand so you’re blessed with those ocean eyes watching each of your ministrations.
“suguru gets back from visiting his parents today,” you loop your arms loosely around his neck once you’re done, and he wants to laugh at the way you stretch up to meet his height. “him, ieiri and i are going to get boba if you want to join. bring kento too. i’m worried about him.”
“he’ll be okay,” you frown at satoru’s cheerful, but also dismissive, tone. “it’s just a part of-”
“-being a sorcerer. yeah i know,” you grumble. satoru is not an idiot, far from it, he’s just never known anything other than the jujutsu world. in such a world death has become normalised – even for a boy only eighteen. “but me and kento aren’t from families like you. we didn’t know what we were signing up for,” you explain and his lips pull into a thin line.
he presses an apologetic kiss to you forehead and gives your waist a soft squeeze, “i’m sorry, love you, baby.”
“i love you more,” you draw your arms around him more tightly and press your cheek to your chest as you hold him close to you, “come back to me safely.”
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“answer my calls idiot,” you sigh as you press on geto’s contact for the third time. he should have arrived at the school twenty minutes ago but it had pretty much been radio silent since he’d arrived at his parents. other than the confirmation that he was there and safe, you hadn’t heard anything. you initially weren’t concerned – he was seeing his family after all – but he was never late to meet you.
“ieiri!” 
as you run down the hall to her, you notice your teacher, yaga, standing stony-faced with paper in his hands. you hold up your phone with suguru’s contact on the screen, “have you heard from sugu-“ shoko sighs, shaking her head and your stomach drops. not suguru too. you could barely recover from haibara. the only person that got you through that was satoru and you don’t think he can hold you together and keep himself sane if suguru had been killed by a curse too.
“someone tell me he’s still alive,” there’s tears welling up in your eyes as your grip tightens around your phone. what if you’d called him a day prior? would he have answered? asked for help? could you have saved him?
shoko can’t meet your gaze as she struggles to find the right words to explain so it’s your teacher that wordlessly answers your demand by handing you the letter in his hand, “read this.” 
you wish you hadn’t.
“what? what?” you repeat, eyes wide as you scan the word ‘execution’. your stomach is doing flips at this point and you really think you might be sick. your head pounds as you reread the words. “is this real?”
“unfortunately,” yaga confirms.
you think maybe it’s selfish, your friend is clearly suffering because no perfectly well being commits such a heinous act, but the only person that concerns you is– “does satoru know?”
“no,” he shakes his head, “i’m informing him once he’s back with nanami. i’m going to need all four of you to be on your best behaviour, keeping a low profile and completing any missions received as swiftly and efficiently as possible. we’re all going to be scrutinised for every decision we make from now.” yaga doesn’t have to explain himself fully to you both to know what he’s implying. all of you are under suspicion now of conspiracy – one mistake and the next execution letter could have your name written.
“do you know where is suguru now?” you ask shoko with a shaky voice once yaga has walked away back to his office.
“the boba shop,” shoko plays with the unlit cigarette in her hand. she, much like gojo, kept her true emotions hidden by a veil of grins and snarky comments, but there was a clear tone of defeat in her voice. “we planned to go there so he’ll go.”
you lift your head up from the floor, “but that was before he did… this.” there is a lump in your throat as you speak and find yourself feeling selfish as your concern shifts to your boyfriend and how he’ll handle suguru’s defection.
“he’ll be there,” shoko says firmly with the utmost trust in her voice. a true belief that he will never let you both down, that he will never do anything that has been accused of him.
-
that belief is quickly dashed, a day dream that isn’t real and the truth cut through you deeper than any curse ever could. suguru was nonchalant when you had spoken, apologetic that he had to leave all of his friends as opposed to his actions that caused that. shoko had called satoru and the rest had been a blur as she took you back to jujutsu high to give satoru and suguru their space.
time stills until a familiar aura of cursed energy enters the high school. he’s not wearing his usual dark shades so you can see his eyes are clearly bloodshot and puffy from tears – even if they’re partially covered by his growing white locks and his hunched posture.
you, shoko and yaga have been awaiting his return. there is a target on suguru’s head now and your teacher needs to know if satoru has pulled the trigger. you just need your boyfriend to come back to you in one piece, both metaphorically and physically. 
he doesn’t acknowledge any of you. there’s no words, no gestures, no shift in his energy to even let you all know that he’s responsive to the outside world. it’s like he’s just on autopilot as he pushes between the three of you and heads in the direction of the dorm rooms.
shoko sighs, flicking the lighter in her hand as she silently takes her leave. your heart feels like it’s ripping in two and you’re struggling to pick up the falling pieces as you watch her walk away. suguru is gone, shoko is shutting down and satoru…
yaga encourages you to go and speak to satoru whilst he discusses with other sorcerers about plans going forward regarding suguru. 
“toru? toru?” you knock lightly on his door, repeating your nickname for him when he doesn’t respond to you the first time. you know he’s in there.
another twenty seconds go by before you make the assertive decision to enter, pressing your palms against the door and slowly sliding it open. slipping in and closing the door behind yourself, there’s a slight ache in your chest as you mourn the blissful morning you had woken up to. a morning in a world that no longer existed.
the bed is still perfectly made as you had tidied it before you’d gone on your suguru hunt. satoru sits at his desk, his foot tapping lightly on the ground repeatedly as his knee moves up and down. you have never seen him in any state of anxiety before. it felt intrusive to witness the strongest in such a manner – even if you are his girlfriend.
you perch yourself onto the edge of his bed and wait for him to open up. which he never does. shocker. “did suguru say much to you?”
“no.”
“i know this is bad right now but-“
“do you know?” satoru snaps, hands slamming down against his desk causing you to jump. you’ve never seen him speak so angrily and act out – his emotions overruling his logical reasoning. “is it because i’m fucking cryin? is that what made you realise?”
“satoru-“
“you were here. you have been with him and not once did you mention that suguru wasn’t doing well,” satoru doesn’t sugarcoat his words as he layers the blame thickly on you, “maybe if you hadn’t been so fucking focused on how your last fuck up killed haibara, i wouldn’t have lost my best friend.” you choke back a sob, hand over your mouth as tears well up in your eyes. satoru doesn’t look at you. somewhere between this morning and now, your position has shifted – from the centre of his universe to just another weak person who burdens him.
“he is my best friend too,” your broken voice tries to defend itself. the attempt falls on deaf ears because now satoru is pacing back and forth, his fingers pressed to the sides of his forehead as he rotates them in small circles. migraine.
“satoru i get you’re grieving and you’re hurt but you can’t blame me,” you try to reason because god you love him so much and you think if he means what he says, if satoru truly blames you… you’re not sure how you’re going to be able to move on.
“cant i?” satoru lets out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “i ignored him for you. to make sure you were okay.”
“look we’re both emotional right now. i’ll give you some time to cool off and we can work this out–” you try to reach out and hold his hand but you're met with a force you haven’t felt in a very very very long time. he turned his infinity on.
“dont bother,” he slouches back down into his chair, forearm covering his eyes as he leans back. “there’s nothing to work out.”
those tears that you’d been holding back are freely flowing now, down past your reddned cheeks and dripping onto his bed sheets as you feel yourself become light-headed. “are you break-“
“go.” there’s a chill down your spine from the assertiveness in his voice. it’s monotone and without any trace of the love he had for you that morning. he really means it then, everything he said.
so you comply and you don’t look back.
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– TWELVE MONTHS LATER
“ieiri, i just need two more minutes then i should be ready to go–”
“you’re leaving.” 
your breath hitches and your whole world comes to a halt at the oh-so-familiar voice behind you. one that had barely addressed you or acknowledged your existence for a year now. a ghost.
“gojo,” you know he doesn’t like your usage of his first name from the disgruntled sound he makes. there’s a brief pause as your brain hot wires itself back into function again and you refrain from repeating his family name that tastes so foreign on your tongue. “uh, yeah, my plane to korea leaves in a few hours.” 
“you weren’t going to say goodbye?”
you scoff, closing the last box with the remains of your tape, “this is the first time you’ve recognised my existence in nearly a year, gojo. can’t say goodbye to someone who’s already left you behind.” your tone is especially sharp as you utter the syllables of his last name. it hurts to speak to him, to hear his voice, to exist to him again. he doesn’t get to speak to you with a breeziness in his voice, like he never abandoned you in the worst way possible. like he didn’t shatter your heart into a million pieces when you were already at your lowest.
the world of jujutsu is cruel and had been especially to you since geto’s defection and the break up with gojo. you had shoko and nanami but shoko was slowly regressing into a shell of a former self and nanami had always had one foot out of the door. the last twelve months had only solidified his decision to leave.
the higher ups have little to no respect for you – that is a fact. gojo leaving you had removed any sort of political defence you had against them and they didn’t hesitate to question your position and capabilities as a sorcerer after every mission. you don;t need gojo to survive, you could stand up for yourself, but you deserved more than to be left in the lurch at such a volatile time with suguru’s defection. 
there’s a dampness in your palm and you wince as you realise how tightly you had been clenching your fists.
gojo reaches out for your bloodied hands and you flinch away, finally turning back to look at him.
he’s stunning.
“don’t touch me,” you are quick to widen the distance between the two of you, wiping your hands on your dark skirt. for a moment there’s a parallel to all those months ago – when he’d decided to break up with you and cut you off from touching him with the same infinity that had once brought you so much joy. initially, allowing you to touch him had been his way of opening up, learning how to be vulnerable to the person he loves. he hadn’t needed to tell you you were over the moment he forced that barrier between you once more.
“i’m sorry.” his blue eyes aren’t as blue as they once were, their light dimmed, and he looks genuinely apologetic for overstepping. it doesn’t ease the ache.
the two of you take a breath and just stare. your eyes scan the face and body of the man who you thought you knew like the back of your hand. every scar on his body and every thought in his mind.
his lips quirk into a sad smile, “i love you.” your jaw clenches at his admission and you turn back to your boxes. 
he doesn’t mean it. he can’t.
“gojo,” you warn quietly, your thoughts quickly going into haywire at his confession because you’d be lying if you said you don’t love him too. in fact, you know you do – it’s what has driven your hatred towards him to blossom into a garden of sharp, bleeding roses.
“please stop calling me that,” he always hated to be reduced to the clan he is from. he takes a cautious step towards you as the words continue to spill from his lips. “i love you, i love you so much, but i have lost so much. i got scared and i pushed you away and it was so wrong of me–”
“i lost everything.” you look directly at him and you can only hope that he knows you’re referring to him and him alone. it isn’t that you consider everyone else expendable, you’re just capable of coping with the loss of them. a piece of you died a year ago and 
“but you’re not the strongest are you?” you click your tongue and almost laugh. he belongs in this world of sorcery more than you ever could. everything is reduced to power. “i’ve been this prodigy since as long as i can remember and i couldnt save haibara, i didn’t even realise suguru was spiralling and you…” 
“i was right here,” you press a finger directly into the centre of his chest to emphasise your point. somehow you manage not to hesitate and stutter as you realise he’s dropped his infinity for you again – even if it is just to allow you to prod him in anger. “i needed you. i lost someone who i saw as a little brother and then one of my best friends kills his parents and an entire village. i needed you.”
gojo’s left silent for a moment so you finish off, “you know how i find this society to be a prestigious bunch of shit but i stayed for you and you still left me. i would’ve done anything for you.” there’s those tears again. you need him out of your room and you need out of this world as soon as possible.
“i have two kids.”
“what?” you don’t bother to hide the hurt in your voice, nor the underlying tones of jealousy. you’d been out of his life for twelve months and he’d already moved on? and had kids? at nineteen?
“they were about to get sold to the zen’in clan-“ your eyebrows furrow as the pieces of the puzzle come together. 
“fushiguro’s?” you cut him off to ask tentatively, and gojo nods. you take a seat on your bed. you’re not quite sure you can handle anything coming out of his mouth without risking passing out from the sheer overwhelmingness of it all. how dare he waltz back into your life, announce he has two kids that he was willingly raising to ensure they didn’t become victims of the zen’in clan? for what? as a favour for the man who basically killed him not even three years prior?
gojo flashes you a sheepish smile, clasping his hands together as he rocked back and forth on his heels nervously. “want to raise them with me?”
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taglist ! @sanokiss ! @dummyf ! @erenssin ! @makiuchiha97 ! @sosoa ! @bontensh0e ! @cole-silas ! @fenrysashryver ! @istanuwow !
1K notes · View notes
hina-hina · 1 year
Note
Perhaps when you’re ready can you write a Ghost and Soft!Reader and their child?😭❤️ I love your writing by the way!❤️❤️
Hello friend!! This is such a cute idea to go along with the soft!Reader series!! I'm so happy with how well received that post is and I'm loving everyones comments and ideas (ノ*ФωФ)ノ Hope you enjoy this one, thank you for requesting and I'm glad you like my writing!! (I put aside my final paper for class so I could post this today o_o)
I guess this is kinda a series now so chronologically it goes Soft!Reader post, Ghost getting secretly married post, then this one!
|| Ghost and Soft!Reader with a Child ||
Warnings: cursing, labor mentions, some angst
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Ghost had been on deployment when you found out you were pregnant
You were shocked an unsure of how Ghost was going to react when he found out
but also really excited
Despite the two of you doing video calls whenever he could, you kept it a secret until he got back from deployment
You put the pregnancy test in a small gift box and wait for him to arrive
You are filled with anxiety all day, worried about what his reaction would be
When he comes in, you can already tell he is extremely tired so you don't want to bombard him immediately
So you hug him when he comes through the door, pull up his balaclava, and give him a few soft kisses
He immediately relaxes, happy to be home
You instruct him to go take a shower and he goes without fuss
When he comes back out in a simple black t-shirt and sweats, his wedding band still attached to its chain hanging from his neck, you feel your heart skip a beat
"Sit down," You instruct
"Awful bossy this evening, aye?" He teases, but does it anyway, small smile on his maskless face
"Hush!"
You present the small box to him, biting your lower lip nervously
He raises an eyebrow, large hands coming up over the box as he shifts his eyes between it and you
He opens it gently, staring at the small device for a moment before his eyes widen
"Your...."
Sets the box aside and immediately stands
"Your being serious?"
You simply nod and his eyes shift down to your stomach before he grabs you into a hug
He would be scared and distant at first, he would need time to process
I do think he would be good with kids
Once you two talk it out, he would become completely on board
Ghost is a girl dad, fight me
Would be so nervous when he goes to appointments with you
He Is so used to the good things in his life being taken away,
When he learns its a girl, he becomes slightly uneasy
He's not sure how he's gonna be with a kid period but knowing its a girl? He is terrified
Nonetheless, he finds himself buying things that he thinks you would like for the baby anyway
would hate it if he had to go back onto deployment before the baby is born
You reassure him you'll be fine and he reassures you he will be back for the birth
An ultrasound picture is placed alongside the picture of you in his breast pocket
Eventually tells his team he's going to have a baby and they are in shock, even more so than before
Imagine you go into labor early and he almost misses it
He shows up still in uniform (minus the weapons bc there isn't anyway he is getting into a hospital with all that on) and black grease paint still smudged around his eyes
But, damnit, he's there
Is scared shitless during labor
He doesn't want anything to happen to either of you
But you deliver the baby and it's handed to him and she looks so small in his hands o(*////▽////*)q
Tears fill his eyes and he feels his cold heart thaw a little more
He gets leave for a little while to take care of you and the baby
He doesn't want to leave you two but you reassure him that you know his work is important
You make him promise to always come back to the two of you
The little girl grows up looking up to Ghost a lot and he feels he doesn't deserve it but loves it anyway
Whenever he comes back, he wants to spend as much time with the two of you as possible
He sends her letters that you read to her before bed
She helps you make care package and includes her drawings
A third picture is put into the pocket, one with all three of you
He brags about all of his daughters accomplishments to his teammates
Imagine one day he decides to surprise her at school when he comes back home
So after you drop her off, you go and pick Ghost up
The two of you go to her school and the teacher sends her to the principal's office
Ghost is waiting there with you, uneasy about being around so many people but when he sees his little girl? He is GONE
She comes in and immediately brights, running to her dad
Immediately drops to his knees to hug her when she comes running at him
Hugs her so close, then stands and goes over and grabs you too
He has never been this happy to be home
6K notes · View notes
7s3ven · 3 months
Note
Hihi can you do a luke x reader fic where reader has had a crush on him for the longest time but he never liked her back and once she started to loose feelings and liking other people he gets jealous and ends up liking her and they get tgt in the end
I love ur writing sm!!🙈🙈
THANK YOU!! 😽😽
I actually have the perfect idea for this in my drafts, omg.
EVERY1 WANTS HIM. luke (pjo)
( master list )
IN WHICH… Y/N L/N realizes she didn’t the only girl hopelessly in love with Luke. And when she finally lets him go, that’s when he decides to reciprocate her precious feelings.
“Everyone wants him, that was my crime. The wrong place at the right time.”
Warnings : Y/N is kind of girly, details differ, angst
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Love was a funny topic. It often left you breathless with your head spinning and your heart pounding so fast that you feared it would abruptly stop. Or sometimes, it filled you with a sense of dread and envy that engulfed you. Y/N was the latter.
Being an Aphrodite child, she had no problem catching the attention of the guys at camp, including Luke Castellan’s.
He was the golden boy, the role model, the literal blueprint to a great demigod warrior. And Y/N was practically perfection in a human’s body. So why was keeping his attention so hard?
Y/N had tried to deny her feelings for Luke after realising he rarely batted an eye in her direction, yet every time she smelled his cologne, she almost swooned. Him sending her occasional bright grins when he decided to acknowledge her didn’t help either.
“Y/N, can you help Luke with setting up the targets?” Chiron’s voice snapped Y/N back to reality. She suddenly remembered that she was standing on a large grassy plane, awaiting to teach a band of small kids archery. Well, more like Luke was going to do the teaching part. She was only there as a small punishment for being out past curfew.
“Right.” She stammered, hurrying over to Luke. He handed her a target from his pile and when their fingers brushed, Y/N almost jolted. “Sorry.” She muttered.
She felt a little stupid right now. She wasn’t usually the shy one when it came to interactions with guys. Luke merely smiled, his gaze following her as she placed the target down, providing Y/N with false hope.
“You’re better at archery than I am. You should be teaching.” Luke uttered after a moment of silence. Chiron had already wandered off to attend to other parts of camp, leaving the pair of older kids alone.
“I’m not that good.” Y/N quickly replied.
Luke was silent for a minute more before he spoke again. “Why do you act so defenceless and dumb?”
It took Y/N a short second to register his words. “Excuse me?” She choked out. Was he insulting her? Last time she checked, she was decently smart. Definitely not on Annabeth’s level but her grades had always been higher than average.
“I’m not calling you dumb.” Luke quickly corrected himself, “But I’m just wondering why you pretend to be so weak when you’re actually a good fighter and why you hide your intelligent side and focus on your looks. Why do you act stupid to get male validation?”
Y/N didn’t know the answer to his random question. “Nobody likes a smart and strong girl.” She whispered as she set up the last target.
“Well, I must be a nobody then. My type is smart and strong.” Luke grinned before his eyes darted over to Silena, who stood a few meters away. “Your sister’s waiting for you.”
Y/N glanced over her shoulder, subtly waving at Silena. “I’ll get going then. Bye, Luke.”
“See ya, Duke.”
Y/N momentarily paused, “What did you just call me?” She asked in confusion.
“Duke. As in, Heather Duke? You know, from Heathers? She acts dumb but is actually really smart, just like you.”
Y/N could only stare at Luke with her lips slightly parted. “Okay.” She breathed. “Bye.” She jogged over to Silena, quickly grabbing her half-sister’s arm.
“He gave me a nickname.” She whispered to Silena.
On instinct, Silena squealed. “Oh, my gosh! He’s totally into you!” The younger camper effortlessly fed Y/N’s delusions. “Make your move at the campfire tonight, don’t be shy!” Silena nudged Y/N with her elbow.
“Do you think he actually likes me?” She mumbled. Silena immediately nodded. Y/N shakily inhaled. “I guess I could… sit with him at the campfire.”
Silena happily clapped her hands. “Let’s go find you the perfect outfit!”
The campfire was in a few hours. The sun was slowly beginning to set, giving Camp Half-Blood a break from its harsh and burning rays.
Silena dug around in Y/N’s closet, messily throwing articles of clothing over her shoulder.
“What on earth are you doing?” Drew scowled in disapproval as she was hit in the face with a short brown skirt.
“Y/N’s going to make a move on Luke and she needs to look sexy!” Silena exclaimed amongst all the chaos.
Drew lightly scoffed. “Just throw her into a black top and mini skirt. She looks good in anything.”
Silena gasped as she stood up straight. “You’re right!” She scrambled around to find what she was looking for before shoving a black off-shoulder top and a short grey and white plaid skirt with hints of brown into Y/N’s arms. “Get changed! Now!”
Y/N quickly hurried into the bathroom, a little overwhelmed by Silena’s sudden enthusiasm.
“Are you sure about this?” She mumbled, trying to tug the skirt down. She usually wore short skirts but never in front of Luke.
“It’s fine, stop fidgeting with it.” Drew snapped, linking arms with Y/N. Silena did the same on the other side, the two girls practically dragging Y/N out of the cabin. She nervously gulped as they neared the roaring fire.
“I’ve never seen you this nervous.” Drew piped up. It was true. Y/N was almost like a flirting machine yet her heart was always stuck on Luke Castellan.
Y/N’s eyes scanned the small crowd huddled around the campfire, freezing when she spotted Luke in the company of another girl. Silena, wondering why Y/N had abruptly stopped walking, followed her gaze.
“Oh… that’s…” Silena wrinkled up her nose, nudging Drew.
“That’s not right.” Drew furrowed her eyebrows together.
Y/N watched with an aching heart as Luke slung an arm around the girl’s shoulder and leaned in to kiss her cheek.
The girl in Luke’s arms immediately glanced at Y/N, knowingly grinning as if to silently say “There’s another girl in Luke Castellan’s life”.
Y/N almost started trembling. “I…” She clawed at her throat, “I can’t breathe.”
Drew immediately grabbed Y/N’s wrists. “Calm down.” She demanded, “You are Y/N fucking L/N. You don’t need a man. You are an absolute powerhouse by yourself!”
Y/N shakily inhaled before she nodded. She resisted the urge to glance at Luke again, knowing it would only suffocate her even more.
“Y/N, no offence, but maybe Luke just… doesn’t like you as much as you like him.” Silena murmured, despite being one of the only people that constantly fed Y/N’s imagination.
Y/N stared at the ground, feeling a mix of anger, sadness, and happiness all in one. Angry that Luke led her on. Sad that Luke would never see her the way she saw him. And happy that she no longer had to withstand the pain of seeing him with other girls.
“We can skip the campfire.” Silena gently said, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.
Y/N quickly lifted her head, her lips curved into a delicate frown. “No. Find me someone to flirt with.”
“Theo, Ares kid. Handsome, good fighter, surprisingly didn’t inherit his dad’s anger issues.” Drew pointed a tall brunette boy sitting amongst his siblings. As Y/N stormed off towards Theo, Drew leaned to the side to whisper to Silena.
“She really is mother’s daughter.”
“Theo. Hi.” Y/N stopped in front of the teenager, smiling at him. Theo paused, lifting his gaze to stare at Y/N in surprise.
“Oh! Y/N… hi!” Theo looked unnaturally happy to see Y/N. He grinned up at her, welcoming her to sit next to him.
“I thought you would be sitting with Silena and Drew.”
“I decided I needed a change.” Y/N clasped her hands together as she gazed at Theo. She saw his cheeks turn bright red.
“And you chose to sit next to me of all people?”
Y/N shrugged, “Yes. Is there something wrong with that?”
“No!” Theo stammered, “I just wasn’t expecting you to sit with me! Because you’re so pretty- does that sound weird? Uh, you’re just really beautiful- that sounds weird.”
Theo’s siblings looked over at him and mockingly snickered together as he tripped over his words.
Y/N merely stared at him, her glossed lips set in a slight curious pout. “You think I’m pretty?” She asked, batting her lashes.
“Everybody thinks you’re pretty. Not just because of your looks but because of your vibe.”
Y/N’s cheeks unintentionally heated up. “Oh.” She murmured, glancing at Silena who was eagerly watching the pair. The ravenette subtly pointed over at Luke, whose jaw was clenched. His attention was no longer on the girl beside him and, instead, his focus rested on Y/N.
“Are you trying to make Luke jealous?” Theo suddenly asked. Y/N quickly turned her head to face him. “It’s not hard to tell you have a crush on him. I mean, he probably knows at this point.”
“I’m not that obvious.” Y/N retorted.
Theo chuckled as he took a sip from his drink. “You’re about as subtle as a sword. You wanna make him jealous? I’ll help you. I know how a guy’s mind works and right now, he wants to strangle me for even looking at you.”
“Why would you even offer to help me with such a ridiculous task?”
“I like watching chaos.” Theo moved closer to Y/N, their shoulders gently brushing. “And I like causing it even more.” He grinned, “What do you say? Partners in crime?” He held out his hand for a hand shake.
“I like the sound of that.” Y/N laughed as she pulled Theo into a tight hug, “I don’t think a handshake would cause enough chaos, though.”
Theo had that same mischievous glint in his eyes as Y/N did. “You’re right.”
“You should’ve seen Luke.” Silena giggled as she washed her perfectly clear face, “He was practically fuming!”
“He deserves it.” Drew piped up as she carefully plucked out any stray eyebrow hairs. “Leading Y/N on then acting like he’s all innocent. What a jerk. You’re better off without him, honestly.”
Silena hummed in agreement. “Hermes boys are always telling lies.”
Y/N remained quiet as she wiped the excess water off her face. Sure, she felt annoyed that Luke had played with her feelings but small part of her still yearned for his attention.
“Yeah. I guess.” Y/N whispered. Drew and Silena left the bathroom, leaving Y/N to tend to herself. She stared at her reflection, taking in the dark circles that had begun forming and how her smile never looked genuine anymore. Her lips were curved but there was no joy in her eyes.
“Y/N, are you coming? We’re watching to all the boys I’ve loved before.” Silena poked her head into the bathroom, alerting Y/N.
As Aphrodite children, romcoms were their favourite movies. They spent a lot of time watching crazy rich asians, 2000 romance movies, and even gossip girl purely for the unbelievable drama.
“Yeah, I’m coming. Hang on.”
Y/N practically stumbled out of her cabin. It was still dark, the sun still hiding behind the mountain peaks. Dim lanterns lit her path as she begrudgingly started jogging around the camp grounds. She was using it as a method to clear her mind, but she unexpectedly crashed into Theo.
“Morning.” He grinned down at her. “You out for a morning jog?”
“I have nothing better to do.” Y/N muttered back as she spotted some movement out of the corner of her eye. It was Luke slipping on his camp shirt as he stepped out of the Hermes building, barely awake. He saw Y/N and Theo but didn’t bother acknowledging them.
“Someone’s grumpy today.” Theo joked, lightly nudging Y/N. “He’s probably still jealous over last night.”
Y/N folded her arms over her chest. “I still don’t get why he’d be jealous. It was fun at first but why exactly would he be envious of you?”
Theo sent her a surprised look. “If a pretty girl was throwing herself at me and then suddenly stopped and gave other guys attention, I’d be jealous too.” Theo’s gaze flickered to Luke, “And here he comes now. See ya.”
Theo slyly slipped away before Y/N could grab him. Luke was quickly walking towards her, tightly holding a beige-coloured envelope in his hands.
“Y/N.” He uttered, “Here.”
“What’s this?” Y/N muttered as she took the letter Luke handed her. For a minute, she almost thought it was for her.
“I need your opinion on it. I’m going to give it to Isa.” Luke smiled, knowing exactly what he was doing, while Y/N thickly gulped.
“Right.” She muttered, staring at Luke’s surprisingly neat handwriting. It felt like she was opening a letter meant for her. Her eyes quickly scanned over the words, wanting nothing more than to run away. “It’s good.” She choked out.
“Would you give it to her? I know you’re relatively close.” Luke sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck while Y/N furrowed her brows in annoyance. She bit back a loud scoff, shoving the letter into Luke’s hands.
“I’m not your errand runner, Luke.” She snapped, “Give it to her yourself. And I’m not close with Isa. Wrong girl, you jerk!” Y/N couldn’t help but storm off. She felt ridiculed by Luke. It was like he was purposely embarrassing her to see how she would react.
If Luke wanted a fight, he’d get more than that. He’d get a war. People often forgot that Aphrodite was also a goddess of battles and that her children were often just as violent as the Ares kids if pushed too far.
By the time Y/N arrived at the Pavilion, Drew and Silena were already sitting in their usual seats. “He’s such a jerk.” Y/N grumbled as she slid into the seat between her sisters, “Ugh!”
“What did he do this time?” Drew asked, unfazed because she had expected Luke to mess up again.
“So I’m on my morning jog and I run into Theo so we talk but Luke approaches me, causing Theo to walk away. And Luke hands me a letter without any context! So I ask what it is and it’s a letter for Isa. And he asks me to give it to you because apparently, we’re close. But I have never even talked to her! And I realized he probably mixed me up with another girl!”
Y/N angrily stabbed her fork into a roasted potato. “The audacity! Honestly!”
“Good to know you’re finally acknowledging how stupid he is.” Drew drawled as she stared into a small hand mirror and perfected her lip gloss.
Silena, always the kindest out of the iconic Aphrodite trio, pursed her lips. “Don’t say that.” She muttered at Drew. She turned her attention to Y/N. “Maybe he’s having pretty girl withdrawal symptoms.”
Drew gave Silena a pointed look. “What does that even mean?”
“He misses Y/N fawning over him and after her interaction with Theo, he wants to get back at her. Thus, locking you two in a battle where both of you are too proud to fold.”
Y/N huffed. “Maybe I should just move on.”
“Please do.” Drew piped up, “He doesn’t deserve you.”
Y/N nodded her head in determination. “Okay. By the next campfire, I’ll be completely over him! I swear by it!”
Y/N was wrong. So, so, so wrong. She was not over Luke. In fact, she might be falling deeper into his undeniable charm. She sat with Drew and Silena, as always. Theo and Clarisse lingered behind them while Luke, Chris, and a few other Hermes kids sat to their right.
“Is that the new Apollo kid?” Drew asked as she nodded over at the boy strumming the guitar. He was quietly humming along, adjusting the strings every once in a while.
“Yeah. Eric or something.” Y/N replied, her eyelids drooping. She leaned back, accidentally bumping into Theo’s knees. She tried to pull away but he held her down.
“Don’t look now but a certain Hermes boy is staring at you. He looks green as fuck.” Theo whispered in Y/N’s ear as he rested his hands on her shoulders. “Laugh like I said something funny.”
Y/N lightly giggled, covering her mouth with one hand so nobody could see that it was fake.
“He looks even angrier now.” Clarisse added, enjoying Y/N’s little scheme.
“I thought you were moving on from him.” Drew butted in.
“The chaos is fun to watch.” Clarisse answered for Y/N. “Don’t look at Luke but look at Eric. He’s eyeing you up.” Y/N glanced at the new camper, immediately locking eyes with him.
Eric gently smiled as he began to sing along with his siblings, swaying to the beat and never once breaking eye contact with Y/N. Luke’s gaze darted between Y/N and Eric before he ran his tongue over his teeth in annoyance. Why was he feeling this way? He had never been interested in Y/N before, at least not in the way she wanted.
He agreed that she was beautiful but there was nothing more to her than that in his eyes. He never did give himself the chance to get to know her, though. He only liked the attention she gave him and when she abruptly ripped it away, he felt empty. Only now did he realize how many guys were actually interested in Y/N.
It only got worse after the campfire. Y/N was no longer seen following Luke around like a lost puppy and to other boys, they saw it as a chance to finally make their move.
“Oh, my gosh. This is so cheesy.” Theo laughed as he read the love letter someone had sent Y/N. She chuckled along with him.
“I know, right?” She sighed, plucking the letter from Theo’s hands. “I appreciate it but the rhyming scheme doesn’t exactly work out, does it?” Theo immediately shook his head.
“They have great words but they cannot rhyme to save their life.”
Over the past few weeks, Y/N ended up spending more time merely hanging out with Theo than plotting another trick against Luke. In all honesty, she enjoyed his company. It made her wonder why she let herself become so blinded by her adoration for Luke.
“Uh oh.” Theo muttered, “Lover boy incoming.” Y/N lifted her head to see Luke.
“Can we talk?” The brunette asked, though it sounded more like a demand. He didn’t even bat an eye at Theo. “Now?” Luke Castellan had finally cracked.
“Oh… sure.” Y/N stood up and glanced at Theo, who shooed her off. He sadly watched as she trailed after Luke, her hands clasped nervously behind her back.
“That should be me.” He whispered under his breath. “Castellan doesn’t deserve her.”
“Did I do something wrong?” Luke led Y/N to an isolated area of camp. And he eventually said something after a few moments of deadly awkward silence. “Why are you avoiding me and talking to all these other guys all of a sudden?” His knees felt like jelly when Y/N looked up at him.
“Excuse me? I have a right to associate with anyone I please.”
“Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” Luke blurted out. “Why are you flirting with other guys when you used to only flirt with me?”
“Because you’re a jerk, Luke. You don’t have the right to play around with my feelings and when I don’t give you attention anymore, suddenly you want it again! You should have appreciated it when you had it!” Y/N harshly poked his chest as she spoke in a tone she had never used before. Luke could only stand still as Y/N pointed out his flaws.
“But… I liked your attention.” He whispered just loud enough for Y/N to hear.
“Too bad. Go kiss Isa. I thought you liked her?” Y/N was mocking him as she waved him off.
Luke stumbled back, stunned. In that moment, he realised how truely beautiful Y/N was. He took notice of her charming smile, her shining eyes, the crinkles on her face as she grinned. And he remembered how kind she was. She never overstepped a boundary unlike other girls. She admired Luke from afar and didn’t act like a creepy stalker.
Luke slowly walked away, quickly glancing over his shoulder to see Y/N embrace Theo. He had never felt more jealous than before. He could see Clarisse, Drew, and Silena watched him, each smiling like they knew something he didn’t.
“Did lover girl reject you?” Clarisse taunted him, causing Luke to roll his eyes.
“Fuck off, Clarisse.” He grumbled. Drew let out a muffled laugh, finding amusement in the whole situation.
“She doesn’t want you anymore, Castellan.” Drew uttered, shrugging. “Get over it. Didn’t you treat her the same?”
Luke furrowed his brows. “I never treated her like that…” He trailed off, trying to remember when he had ever brushed Y/N off.
There was the time at the campfire where he kissed that girl on the cheek.
And when he showed Y/N his love letter to Isa, which was really just his shopping list shoved into an envelope.
And when he purposely mixed her up with another girl.
“Oh, shit,” He muttered, “I’m a jerk.”
“You just noticed?” Drew snapped. “You realise you miss Y/N because she only ever focused on you when so many other guys wanted her attention too? What happens now? What are you gonna do, huh?”
Luke lightly chewed on the inside of his cheek. “What am I supposed to do? It’s not like I share her feelings.”
Clarisse leaned against a wooden pole, staring at Luke with a small grin. “Yeah. But you’re starting to. You’re jealous.”
Luke scowled, “I am not.” He huffed. “You’re delusional, Clarisse.”
“Maybe. But at least I didn’t fumble a gorgeous girl like you, Castellan.”
Luke clenched his jaw, something he seemed to be doing quite a lot with recent events. “Whatever.” He muttered, quickly walking off.
“I thought she was planning to move on from Luke.” Silena spoke for the first time.
“Be realistic, she’d jump into his arms if he confessed.” Clarisse fired back. Drew nodded her head in agreement. Y/N had always been a hopeless romantic, especially when it came to Luke.
“So… are we going to help him out or…” Silena trailed off as she looked at Drew then at Clarisse, both of them having identical evil glints in their eyes.
“He can figure it out on his own. I want to see how it ends.”
Luke lay awake in his bed, a thin layer of sweat coating his body from the humid air. It was unusually hot in his cabin. The Hermes building was often cold when the wind blew through the small cracks in the walls but someone made the grand choice of leaving the heater on for hours.
Finally, he stood up, having had enough of overheating. He yanked the door open, the wind feeling euphoric on his flushed cheeks.
He stepped outside, deeply inhaling. His gaze flickered to another camper walking around, dressed in a blazer cinched at the waste and a mini pleated skirt. There was only one group of people who dressed that fancy for a simple walk; Aphrodite kids. And Luke instantly recognised their H/C hair.
“Y/N.” He quietly called out as he jogged towards her. Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she turned around.
“What?” She muttered, folding her arms over her chest.
“I’m, uh, sorry for upsetting you earlier.” Luke scratched the back of his neck, hoping and praying Y/N would accept his half-hearted apology. It wasn’t much but it was all he could muster up.
Y/N, however, wasn’t that easy to break. “You can’t treat me like that then expect me to forgive you. Get it through your head, Luke, I don’t like you anymore.” She was about to storm off but Luke was quick to grasp her wrist.
“Please… forgive me. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to treat you like that. I didn’t know it would affect you.”
Luke was stunned when Y/N shoved him back. “You knew I liked you, Luke. You knew yet you still played around with me. And then when I move on, suddenly you want me back. You don’t get to decide that!”
“I know.” Luke murmured.
“You’re a jerk.” Y/N hissed, pushing him again.
“I know.”
Luke was expecting another harsh blow but Y/N only stared at him as she lightly panted. “You were jealous.” She muttered.
Luke quickly shook his head. “I don’t get jealous.”
“Admit it, Luke. Admit it.”
“I… can’t.”
“Tell me how you feel… and I’m yours.” Y/N stepped closer to him, their bodies almost pressed together. Luke’s breath hitched and in that moment, he wanted to blurt out everything.
How he felt like a failure after his quest.
How he thought he never truely deserved love.
And how he missed Y/N fawning over him.
Yet, he said nothing. He kept his mouth shut and he could see the hope in Y/N’s eyes slowly drift away.
It wasn’t a surprise to her that Luke remained silent. After all, he was never one to share his private thoughts.
“That’s what I thought.” She whispered, “Good night, Luke.” Y/N slipped away, not sparing him another look.
Over the next few days, Luke looked horrendous. Even Chris was staring at the boy in concern until he finally confronted Luke. “Dude.” Chris muttered, “You look terrible. What happened?”
“I haven’t been sleeping well.” Was all Luke answered with as he slowly stirred his spoon around in the soup. Clarisse, Drew, and Silena had all taken a notice of his rugged appearance as well.
“Do we help him now?” Silena questioned.
Clarisse sighed, rolling her eyes. “We have to. Otherwise, he’ll never have any game.”
STEP ONE: Lure Y/N out
“I don’t get why we’re going on a walk in the middle of the night.” Y/N uttered as Drew forcefully pushed her out of the cabin. “There’s harpies, you know.”
“Fuck them. Come on, hurry up. We don’t have all night.” Drew grumbled.
Silena was leading the way with Clarisse hot in her trail, holding a sword in case a happy did actually show up. The group of four girls wandered through the woods, their only source of light being a dim lantern Silena held in her left hand.
“Almost there.” The ravenette beauty spoke up. “Y/N, wait here.”
Drew and Silena rushed off while Clarisse stayed behind, grabbing onto Y/N’s collar every time the H/C-nette tried to walk back to her bed.
“I got someone’s dessert promised to be for a month. I ain’t letting you ruin that.” Clarisse uttered.
STEP TWO: Make sure Luke looks… decent
“Stop fiddling with the collar.” Drew slapped Luke’s hand away as he tried to adjust the tight buttons. He struggled to suck in a breath. “Gosh, men are such babies.” She rolled her eyes while Silena silently combed Luke’s hair.
“You look handsome.” Silena reassured Luke as she showed him his reflection. Luke stared at himself, feeling a little uncomfortable in such formal clothes.
“Are you sure?” He asked for the fifth time, finally causing Drew to snap.
“Oh, shut it, Castellan! We made you look good, end of story!”
Silena was quick to hush Drew in case Y/N heard her shouts. Luke sighed, adjusting his tie so that it was centred.
“I still think confessing to her on a beach is stupid. There’s sand in my shoes.”
“Hey, we offered to help you. You’ll take what you’re given.” Drew poked his shoulder before turning to Silena. “You can go get Y/N now.”
STEP THREE: Force Y/N to confront Luke and Luke to confront his feelings
Y/N furrowed her brows as soon as she saw the strange sight of Luke standing on a sandy beach. She turned to Silena but she had already dashed off, most likely to wait in the shadows until Luke and Y/N came to an agreement.
Y/N sighed. “What do you want, Luke?”
“I shouldn’t have let you go that night.” Luke answered. “I should have spilled out my feelings. I should have told you everything.”
“Well,” Y/N folded her arms over her chest, “It’s too late now.”
“I think you’re pretty.” Luke quickly said Y/N got ready to leave. She paused. “I think you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Breath-taking. And I’m not talking about your outer appearance because as amazing as that is too, I’m talking about your heart and your vibe. I like how you’re the embodiment of pink. I like how you collect pearls and pieces of jewellery. I like how you adore heart-shaped things and how you’re always ready to lend a helping hand.”
“You noticed… all that?”
“I like how you always watch romcom movies with your siblings. I like how you wear the prettiest necklaces. I like your seashell collection and I like all your Vivienne Westwood clothes. I like how every time you leave camp for the holidays, you come back with a new fashion book and it’s all you read for the next days coming.”
STEP FOUR: High-five as Luke finally confesses (and Y/N cries - Clarisse)
“I like you.” Luke spoke the three words Y/N had been wanting to hear for years. She stared at him, silent and unmoving. He took that as a no until Y/N pulled him into a hug.
“Thank you.” She whispered, small tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Are you… crying?” Luke questioned.
Y/N quietly laughed. “Not many people notice all that about me… so if they do, I end up crying out of happiness.”
“Is this a yes to my confession?”
“It’s a maybe.”
“Good enough for me, Bella.”
Y/N sent him a confused look.
“You know, like Bella and Edward. Twilight, duh? How can you like to all the boys I’ve loved before and nor Twilight?”
Clarisse and Drew eagerly slapped their hands together while Silena fondly watched Y/N and Luke. She was happy for her half-sister because after all those years of pinning, Y/N finally got what she wanted.
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seulszn · 3 months
Text
Listen I love TLOU and the fandom very much but a lot of people (not calling anybody out) need a reality check and need to grow up. I wanna say my two cents on things that bother me in this fandom.
1. Boycotting for Palestine
I have seen multiple times on multiple occasions where people would sit on their phone and complain about why writers are “flooding the tags with this boycotting bullshit” and honestly all I have to say is your super childish you can’t take a hour or a week out of your day to raise awareness on a important topic that is affecting millions of people? Your so horny so down bad for pixelated characters that you don’t care about the innocent children, women and men that are dying in Palestine? The boycotting isn’t gonna stop just because you want your needs filled, the boycotting isn’t going to stop because you think it needs to, it’s not gonna stop until Palestine is free. And if you wanna read things that bad then read nobody is stoping you but a take into ignition that if a writer is spreading awareness then don’t be ignorant and say stupid shit
2. Less Sex and more angst or other genres.
Listen I love Abby and Ellie just like everyone else and I read a lot of smut about them but does that all y’all see when y’all look at them? As sex objects? Like I’m not saying that you should stop writing smut for those characters but write other things to that don’t involve smut, like angst I see a lot of people under that tag say how they wish writers would as write other things that isn’t just smut and majority of the time when they say that they get hated for it. It lowkey gets boring reading fanfics where the whole plot is smut, smut, smut. And again I’m not saying to stop writing smut but please for the love of whatever you believe in write other genres.
3. Black inclusivity
As a black writer and a black person TLOU tag isn’t inclusive enough. I know you must be thinking “Why are we speaking about this again?” Because I’m honestly so tired of how uninclusive the fandom is like I said before Ellie dates WOC if you don’t know what WOC is it’s Women Of Color all of Ellie’s girlfriends where WOC now I’m not saying you can’t write for Ellie as a white person and I’m not saying that never did all I am saying is once again all of Ellie’s girlfriend where POC
Riley was a Black African American who Dated Ellie
Cat the girl who wasn’t mentioned alot but is in the game is Asian American who also dated Ellie
Dina is a Jewish (Mexican, Middle Eastern ) American who dated Ellie
Also yes we know when the reader is white coded so don’t try a put that you don’t mention when race mentioned cause you do and we can tell when you do “She’s Petite and cute with her long blonde hair” or whatever you bitches be saying we know when you guys aren’t inclusive the whole point of fanfiction writing is to be inclusive is to make sure that readers can see themself in your xreader so if your putting all these “white things and then labeling your story as “the readers race is not mentioned” or that OC stuff that y’all do then just label the story as a white reader or a OC reader
4. Futa, trans and masc
Now here I’m gonna discuss two or three things starting off with Futa and Trans. Now I don’t know when “Futa” or “Trans” Ellie and Abby came from but a lot of you readers need to understand and learn the difference between the two because they are both very different things.
Futanari: is the Japanese word for hermaphroditism, which is also used in a broader sense for androgyny. Beyond Japan, the term has come to be used to describe a commonly pornographic genre of eroge, manga, and anime, which includes characters that show primary sexual characteristics from both females and males. In today's language, it refers almost exclusively to characters who have an overall feminine body, but have both female and male primary genitalia (although a scrotum is not always present, while breasts, a penis, and a vulva are). The term is also often abbreviated as futa(s), which is also used as a generalized term for the works themselves.
Transgender (often shortened to trans) is someone whose gender identity differs from that typically associated with the sex they were assigned at birth. Some transgender people who desire medical assistance to transition from one sex to another identify as transsexual. Transgender is also an umbrella term; in addition to including people whose gender identity is the opposite of their assigned sex (trans men and trans women), it may also include people who are non-binary or genderqueer. Other definitions of transgender also include people who belong to a third gender, or else conceptualize transgender people as a third gender. The term may also include cross-dressers or drag kings and drag queens in some contexts. The term transgender does not have a universally accepted definition, including among researchers.
Mind you I am not transgender I am nonbinary but I see a lot of transgender people speak up about how offensive it is to write a character as Transgender but it’s not really transgender but a Futanari remember a Futa is a character who is assigned a gender at birth but just has extra sexual parts like a penis.
Now another thing that bothers me is how y’all Masculinize Masc Lesbians as if they still aren’t women themselves like every time I read a fanfic with Ellie or Abby or even Vi and Sevika from Arcane you guys like to ignore they fact that they are also women themselves like it’s not gonna kill you to give those characters feminine compliments there shouldn’t be a reason why your calling these women “handsome” or other Masculine compliments and also a lot of Masculine women where makeup it’s not just a feminine woman thing. Masc Lesbians are women they aren’t men so stop treating them as if they are men and ignoring the fact that they are women
5. the Innocent childish reader gotta stop.
They title says enough I don’t think I need to say too much but a lot of y’all get innocent and corruption mixed up but a corruption kink is When you find the idea of "corrupting" someone, mostly in a sexual way, like taking virginities or introducing people to stuff like bdsm etc. It's the idea of having someone "pure" do "bad" things under your influence. And innocent is not corrupted or tainted with evil or unpleasant emotion; sinless; pure. not guilty of a particular crime; blameless. (From the dictionary)
Y’all need to understand yes not everyone knows what sex is but everyone knows what a vagina is what a penis is, what a orgasm is and what sex is but they may not knows what happens when you have sex so making the reader what y’all call innocent isn’t innocent it’s honestly to me perverted cause the only one who would say something like “my cunny feels weird 🥺” or that “what is sex 🥺” is a child. Children don’t know what sex is children don’t know what pleasure or orgasms is and when y’all say “the reader is a Bimbo” is also funny cause Bimbos know what sex is as well yes they may be stupid but they aren’t slow so before you make a innocent reader please think “am I making my reader act like a child or am I gonna make her really innocent like how regular grown ass adults act?” so don't get not knowing and "innocent" mixed up
6. The stories where they have sex inside a church also gotta stop
Now I’m not a Christian but these stories are honestly really bad and are Blasphemy a lot of people have come out and said that they don’t like the fact that people are writing stories about church in a sexual way like their shouldn’t be any reason why your characters are fucking inside a church, that’s like stomping on someone’s dead grave. You guys do shit like this and then wonder why Christian’s don’t like us. Religion isn’t something to be sexualized it’s not something to be playing with either this idc how much you hate Christianity you can be a Atheist, or Catholic or Jewish but please for the love of whatever you believe in don’t sexualize people’s religion.
That’s all I can think of at the moment if I think of more I’ll of course make a part two to this but don’t take anything I said here to heart it’s just my blunt honest opinion on things in this fandom and if I get hate for this 🤷🏾‍♀️
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Text
More Than Enough
Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader
Rating: T
Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever. Technically part of my Men I Always Meant to Write For non-series series.
Length: 9.9K
Warnings: Angst. Angst angst angst angst, mentions of reader having anxiety, friends to enemies to lovers, has a happy ending
Summary: Mr. Ross (Mike, he’d insisted, but you knew that you had to keep the formalities up for your own sakes) introduced Beth first, giving you a chance to just—look. You’d never bothered to catch up with Harvey once he’d gotten a job in New York. You knew that he was there, of course. The few friends that you had kept in touch with from Harvard had told you. You’d heard his name every couple of months regarding some case that he had tried, some deal that he’d closed. But you couldn’t imagine what you’d say to him if you turned up, and you weren’t sure that you wanted to know what he’d say to you—if he’d have anything to say to you.
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There were a lot of things that you remembered about Harvey. You remembered his dimples, and the freckles peppering his shoulders; you remembered the way his eyes lit up when he hit on something good; you remembered the casual, almost bored way that he answered questions in class. Most of all, you remembered how he looked at you.
Harvey used to look at you with warmth, and teasing. He used to watch you hunker over your books and notes, stare you down when he was determined to come out on top in an argument. He used to peer up at you as he tried not to fall asleep on your shoulder, sharing the train ride back to spend the odd weekend in New York.
You remembered the way his gaze used to send nervous butterflies swirling through you. The way his smile made your face go hot, and your heart pound in your chest.
You remembered so many things about how Harvey made you feel, things that you held on to for such a long time—and they were in direct conflict with the way Harvey looked at you when you walked into the conference room that morning.
Something funny had happened in your gut when you’d heard his voice, the way he was warning his associate that he would, “Handle this one, and we’ll be outta here in five minutes.”
As you rounded into the room, you could see that his associate wasn’t convinced; you couldn’t blame him. You’d put up a hell of an argument with Mr. Ross a couple of days before, which had no doubt prompted him to return with backup. Now, you felt the first stirrings of panic, faced with a past you'd tried to forget, but you were too close to the conference room to turn tail, and with Beth already two steps deeper inside, it was too late to bail out. You’d promised her that you’d stick to her side through this ordeal. She couldn’t afford a real lawyer, and the few that you’d spoken to about pro bono work just didn’t have the bandwidth to help her case. The rest of your coworkers had been overwhelmingly supportive, your boss included—you couldn’t think of any other employer that would let a lawyer come and speak with Beth at her workplace without raising a stink about it.
Mr. Ross (Mike, he’d insisted, but you knew that you had to keep the formalities up for your own sakes) introduced Beth first, giving you a chance to just—look. You’d never bothered to catch up with Harvey once he’d gotten a job in New York. You knew that he was there, of course. The few friends that you had kept in touch with from Harvard had told you. You’d heard his name every couple of months regarding some case that he had tried, some deal that he’d closed. But you couldn’t imagine what you’d say to him if you turned up, and you weren’t sure that you wanted to know what he’d say to you—if he’d have anything to say to you.
Harvey looked good. Self-assured, confident, wearing a bright, charming smile as he shook Beth’s hand. You could hear Mike introducing you, and had just a moment to brace as recognition his recognition swelled.
It took over his expression entirely as he met your eye.
Harvey’s gaze flickered, brow furrowing a touch. The dimples disappeared as his lips dropped from a smile to a stunned purse. You shook his hand where it had frozen, a quick, firm pump before you let go.
“Please,” You gestured to the small conference table before you set your things down. The space wasn’t at all grand, it was…Homey. Surely not the sort of spaces these two were used to, if the suits were anything to go by.
“I appreciate your persistence, Mr. Ross,” Beth started, tucking a stand of greying hair behind her ear as she tried to steady her nerves, “But my position hasn’t changed since the last time we spoke.”
You glanced from your elderly coworker toward Mr. Ross. Just out of the corner of your eye, you could see Harvey watching you closely. The feeling was at once familiar and foreign; it made your stomach turn.
“Ms. Owens, I recognize that our client has put you in a difficult position—” Mr. Ross started. You had to clench your jaw to keep from rolling your eyes as he went on, “But the valuation that we’ve offered for you to change the name of your LLC and sell the site is incredibly generous.”
You did smile, then. Hell, you couldn’t help it.
“You disagree?”
Your stomach lurched at Harvey’s question, and you looked toward him. Oh—you knew that expression. His eyes were narrowed; his lips were curled into a smirk that dared you to argue with him.
“Isn’t that obvious? If we didn’t disagree, none of us would be in this room right now,” You pointed out.
“We’ve spoken to our client,” Mike cut in, drawing your attention again, “And he’s authorized us to bump the offer up to $100,000.”
You let that hang in the air for a few moments, brows raising when Mike gave a small, encouraging nod.
“That’s it?” You retorted dryly. “You expect me to believe that a pharmaceutical company with a market value of over three hundred billion dollars is willing to drop a whole 100K? How overwhelmingly generous.”
“Do I need to point out that your cash-grab is standing in the way of medical progress?” Harvey argued.
“Oh, please,” You scoffed. “It's a dick pill, Harvey.” You tried to ignore the stunned, slap-shocked look when you used his name, pushing on—“And if you’d read the comparative studies that the company did, you’d know that it works with roughly a third of the effectiveness of the market leaders. This isn’t exactly going to blow the toupee off of Viagra, no matter what your client says.”
“We could bury you under fees and paperwork.”
“Whoa, Harvey,” Mike muttered beside him, casting him a wary look. You could feel Beth shifting nervously beside you as well. You forced yourself to be calm, and to smile a little, even as your stomach flipped. You’ve done your homework; you’ve prepped. You can do this.
“Yes,” You nodded, “You could. But you’d be doing so at the expense of a woman who has owned and operated a company out of her studio apartment under this name since 1995. What Beth has here isn’t just a little stumbling block for your client—it’s an institution, with hundreds of annual customers and testimonials speaking to the way her products have improved their lives. This may be a blip for your client, but it’s a significant part of Beth’s life. And considering the recent, sharp drop in the company’s stock price and the uptick in legal suits, I wouldn’t be surprised if you all need a win right now. If you railroad us, we will go public with your client’s intimidation tactics.”
“Intimidation—?” Harvey snapped.
“Oh, have they not mentioned the non-stop late-night phone calls, the people following Beth to and from home? The private investigators? The threatening letters?”
You watch Harvey’s expression mar with surprise. You can’t help but chuckle then.
“C’mon. You should know better.” You look down at the folder in front of you. “The fact of the matter is, my client has had to endure a mountain of shit for what is only a marginally effective aid for erectile dysfunction—one that’s projected to make your client nearly $18 million in its first quarter on the market. If you need to close anyone, it’s on your side, not ours. You either bump the offer up a mill, or we go to the press with what we have.” You drew two copies of an article out of your folder, sliding it across the table to them. “Just a little taste.”
“Excuse me?” You heard. The four of you turned your attention to the office secretary, who was lingering in the doorway. Right on time, just as you asked. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you have a call. I can have them hold—“
“No, that’s alright,” You shook your head before turning back to the men on the other side of the table, subtly waving for Beth to stand. “We’re done here. Thank you for your time, Mr. Ross. Harvey, always a pleasure.”
You led the way out, holding the door open for Beth. Vindication shot through you as you just caught Mr. Ross asking, “What the hell was that?”
--  
She was all over the page. Harvey had given the article a couple of passes while he was in the car on the way back to the office, but reading it through again, he felt that even if she hadn’t handed it to him herself, he somehow would’ve known that it was hers. 
The argument that Mike was having with Craig Philbrook seemed almost muted to him as he read it for a third time. It was a concise presentation of the facts, but it hit the exact emotional points that it needed to. It was beautifully balanced. Harvey could almost imagine her curled over her laptop, drawing up a draft, editing it with expert precision. He’d seen her work like that before. Sure, it had been a long time ago, but the sight of her hunkered down in Langdell Hall had never really left him—not even when he’d done his best to push it away. 
“Harvey!” 
He glanced up, brows raising. Craig’s face was the shade of a cherry tomato, and seemed just about ready to pop. His chest was heaving from what must’ve been a spirited bout of argument with Mike. Glancing at his associate, Harvey found Mike wide-eyed and pink-cheeked, at an equal fever pitch. He considered for a moment more before he tossed the article onto the table. 
“We don’t have any choices here, Craig,” He admitted. 
“A million dollars? That’s insane!” 
“Actually, considering what the company expects to pull in almost a eighty mill in the first year, one million is pretty reasonable.” 
“Whose side are you on?” 
“I’m on yours, Craig. Look, if you wanna action your plan, we’ll sic the dogs on ‘em. But the press is never gonna side with a company that’s putting a little old lady through her extreme financial and emotional distress just for a landing page. If we settle outside of court, slap an NDA on top, none of this ever comes out. Keep it clean.” Harvey pushes himself out of his seat, standing and buttoning his suit jacket before taking the article up again. “Talk to who you need to talk to, but do it fast. Every incident that they noted is another ticking time bomb that we may have to worry about diffusing.” He rounded his seat, heading for the door before he paused and turned back. “Oh, and Craig? Quit having her called and followed. You’re just giving them more rope to hang you with.” 
He turned away, tucking his hands into his pockets as he strode down the hall, Mike in tow. 
“You think he’ll cave?” Mike asked. 
“He will. He has to.” 
“Okay—Question.” 
“Is it related to the case?” 
“Yes. What the hell was that?” 
“That was me doing my job. The job you were supposed to handle, and you're welcome, by the way.” 
“I don’t mean back there, I mean this morning.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Bullshit.” 
Harvey cast an irritated glance back toward Mike as he walked into his office. It was no surprise that Mike followed; once he got something in his head, he couldn’t let it go. Neither of them could. 
“She said seeing you was always a pleasure,” Mike added as Harvey settled behind his desk. 
“Maybe she was just trying to get under my skin.” 
“Seems like it worked, and I’ve never seen anyone but Tanner do that. How do you know one another?” 
Harvey considered. He didn’t know her, not really. Not anymore. 
“We went to Harvard together,” He finally admitted. 
“She’s a lawyer?” 
“No.” Maybe? He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t checked the bar for her name in a long time. 
“So she…Did what with her degree?” 
“As far as I know, she never got it. She dropped out, middle of our second year.” 
“Why?” 
“No idea.” 
“Come on, you can tell me.” 
“Don’t you have a brief to write or a motion to file.” 
Mike was quiet for a moment, gaze sweeping Harvey’s face before his mouth fell open in slight surprise. 
“...Oh, my god, you really have no idea,” He managed.
“Why are you still standing here?” 
“Does Donna know?” 
“Why would she?” 
“Because she knows everything.” 
“Well, I doubt she would know this.” 
“You’re deflecting. She definitely knows.” 
“Go ahead and ask her.” 
Mike’s mouth works wordlessly again before he turns his head just a little. 
“...She doesn’t know.” 
“She does not.” 
“Unless she does, and you’re trying to double psychy-psych me into not getting an answer.” 
“Then go ahead and ask.” 
“...She doesn’t know.” 
“Are you asking?” 
“If she does know—” 
“You could be doing this on the other side of the door.” 
“Okay.” 
Harvey relaxed a bit as Mike leaned back in his seat, then smiled as he heard Mike call out, “Donna?” 
He shook his head, taking up a baseball from behind his desk and turning his chair to gaze out of the window, turning the ball over and over in his hands. Mike wasn’t entirely wrong. If there was anyone in the city who may somehow know what happened, he was almost certain it was Donna. Harvey sure as hell didn’t know what had happened. 
Harvey could still remember the shock of it—turning up to goad her into going to get dinner with him, only to find that her half of the room was completely cleared out. Her roommate had told Harvey that she didn’t know where she’d gone, didn’t have a number to reach her. Harvey had chased answers down within his means. He’d gone after phone numbers that he’d used and found them disconnected; he’d stopped by her apartment building and asked the doorman for information, even tried to bribe him, but the man hadn’t let a single word slip. Harvey had waited outside for hours in the hopes of seeing her, but had come up with nothing.
No call, no note, not a word of warning or explanation. Harvey hadn’t been worth saying goodbye to then, and he apparently hadn’t been worth saying goodbye to today. 
His gaze dropped to the baseball in his hands, his thumb sweeping across the stitching as his chest fluttered with bitterness. Mike hadn’t come back in, so he was almost certain that Donna didn’t have the answers. Harvey eyed the article on his desk, frown deepening. 
Maybe Harvey would have to get the answers for himself. 
-- 
“Um—Did you happen to see Gerald’s email?” 
“Nope,” You hardly looked away from your laptop screen as Beth sidled up to your desk. “What’s up?” 
“He wants another SWOT analysis.” 
You closed your eyes in irritation, drawing in a deep breath. 
“Of course he does. Thanks for flagging.” You opened your email, glancing over when you realized Beth was still standing there. “Everything okay?” 
“...Just, I haven’t heard anything yet, from…” She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “I just wonder if we were too aggressive.” 
You nodded a little, offering her a reassuring smile. 
“If anything, they’ll counter, maybe for half a mill.” 
“But…What that other man had said about burying us in fees, and paper—”
You turned your chair, taking Beth’s wizened hands in yours. 
“He’s not going to do that,” You swore. “They’d screw themselves over if they did, and they know it. They’re probably just ironing out paperwork. It’s gonna be okay.” 
Beth’s eyes darted between yours before she finally nodded. You gave her hands a gentle squeeze before you let go, turning back to your laptop as she walked away. You bit your lip, peering at your laptop screen. Your eyes scanned it, but you weren’t really taking anything in. You were just as panicked as Beth was that you hadn’t heard anything from the firm. It either meant something very good, or very bad. But you didn’t dare let Beth know how nervous you were. If it hadn’t gone your way—if the company decided to take Beth down—you would never forgive yourself.
You drew in a deep, shaky breath, curling your fingers into your palms and trying to shake off the oncoming shivers trickling down your spine. You’d always hated this feeling—the fear of loss, the swell of hopelessness. You hadn’t felt either so acutely in a long time. You’d been happy for it; you hadn’t missed them. Arguing with Harvey had brought you back to the contentious moments in law school, the panic of not knowing who the professor would call on next, the fear of tripping over your words in front of a dozen of your peers—
You closed your eyes for a moment, drawing in another deep breath and forcing your mind calm. You weren’t in law school anymore. You were a manager at a marketing firm. You did good work. You liked your job. The life that you led was more than enough. The people that you answered to were satisfied with your results—and whatever happened to Beth could be overcome. You were certain. 
You opened the email from Gerald, reading it through before you CC’d Anne from finance, Jason from legal, and your boss before you typed out your response: 
Hi Gerald, 
Per our contract, we’ve completed the four SWOT analyses that we’ve been contracted for this year. Happy to take this conversation offline to discuss renegotiation.
-- 
“I’m going out.” 
Donna sprang up at the warning, striding to catch up with Harvey. 
“Going out where?” 
“I need some air.” 
“There isn’t enough air in your office?” 
“I like outside air. The exhaust, the cigarette smoke, the waft of salt from the hot dog vendor.” 
Donna arched a brow, folding her arms across her chest as Harvey hit the down button for the elevator. 
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the woman that Mike asked me about last week, would it?” She asked. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
“Oh no?” 
“Nope.” 
“Too bad. Her LinkedIn, Instagram, and Bumble profile were very interesting.” 
Harvey arched a brow, glancing toward Donna before he stepped onto the elevator. 
“Since when are you on Bumble?” 
“I have a few profiles for research purposes.” 
Harvey shook his head, smiling and casting his gaze toward the elevator floor as the doors closed. 
--  
When someone came to a stop at your desk, you assume that it’s Beth, or your boss—someone that you worked with. When they didn’t speak, you glanced up, and realized immediately that it was a mistake. Harvey was standing there, his hands in his pockets as he waited to have your attention. You dropped your gaze back to the screen, clearing your throat.
“I’m assuming if you’re here in person again, it’s bad news,” You commented. Harvey’s lips pouted as he seemed to consider. 
“Depends on what you consider bad news.” 
“I consider Beth getting screwed out of her fair share as bad news.” 
“Well, then I have good news and bad news.” 
“Okay.” 
“The good news is, my client is ready to settle out of court for the requested amount, provided an NDA is signed.” 
“I’d need to see that before she signed it.” 
“Of course.” 
Your brow furrowed. 
“Then what’s the bad news?”
“There’s one more contingency to the deal being signed.” 
“And what’s that?” 
“Get a drink with me.” 
Your gaze narrowed, and you couldn’t help but lean back in your seat, arms folding across your chest. 
“Are you kidding me?” 
“Not at all.” 
“If I refuse?” 
“Beth will still get her settlement. But,” Harvey tipped his head from side to side, “It’ll probably take way longer.” 
“How much longer?” 
“Pff…Anywhere from a few months to a year. To be perfectly honest, my client doesn’t want to pay out. I mean, he will, because he knows that our advice is the right way to go, but I can gum up the works.” 
You pushed out a stunned scoff. 
“You’d seriously do that for a drink with me?” 
“We each have something the other wants.”
“What the hell could I possibly have that you want?” 
“Answers.” Harvey's critical gaze skimmed your rapidly heating face. “So? Are you busy tonight?” 
-- 
You felt out of place. The bar was nice, and everyone seems dressed for it…Except you. Well, your workplace was fairly casual. It was rare that you met with clients in person. You dressed up in those instances, of course, but your day-to-day work wear is jeans and a nice shirt. You were trying not to shift uncomfortably, or fidget to adjust your cardigan, or the shirt underneath. You glanced up toward the waiter, offering a small smile as he set your drink down. 
You picked up your glass, drawing in a long, slow sip. You’d spent the last five hours distracted at work, torn between trying to figure out what the hell you were going to say to Harvey, what sort of questions he could have. You already knew that this was more likely to be an interrogation than a friendly chat. 
He was drawing it out, too. He was taking a slow sip of his own, watching you like his gaze could drill through your skull. 
Maybe it could. He was certainly trying hard enough. 
“So?” You pressed, unable to help the silence. His lips twitched. Ugh, he’d wanted you to cave first, and you had played right into his hand. Bastard. 
“Did you ever finish your law degree?” He asked. 
Embarrassment prickled your skin. The conversation was going to be a roller coaster if that was where he was starting. 
“No.” 
“Never went back to Harvard?” 
“No.” 
“Why not?” 
“I had no reason to.” 
“Not even to visit? Maybe pick up something you forgot?” 
“I didn’t forget anything when I left.” 
“Why did you leave?” 
“Irrelevant.” 
“I find it very relevant.” 
“I disagree.” 
“I’m sorry to hear that.” 
“Are you?” 
“Not particularly.” 
“Move on.” 
“Speaking of moving on, you seemed to do that very quickly.” 
“I don’t know what you mean.” 
“You disappeared. No one could get in contact with you.” 
“I didn’t want contact with anyone.” 
“So you just dropped off of the face of the earth, for what? Fun?” 
You shifted in your seat a little, fingers pressing into your palms where they were hidden in your lap. 
“Trust me, nothing that happened to me then was fun.” 
“Why should I trust you?” 
Your stomach lurched; your hands tightened in your lap. 
“Take my word for it, then,” You corrected. 
“Your word isn’t worth anything to me.” 
You averted your gaze, jaw tightening as you leaned back in your seat. Maybe you could just slam the drink back and go. You could hear Harvey leaning forward in his seat. 
“Tell me,” He pressed, “What happened.” 
“Why does it matter to you?” 
“This has been a giant question mark for me for a long time. You know I hate loose ends.” 
You drew in a deep breath, leg beginning to bounce beneath the table as your nervous energy swelled. 
“I couldn’t do it anymore,” You finally admitted. 
“What?” 
“I couldn’t do…Harvard Law. That environment, I couldn’t do it. Look, I loved it at the start, I loved the feeling of getting in, but once I was in, it was too much.” 
You couldn’t meet his eye; his look was as heavy as ever. 
“Why didn’t you talk to me?” He asked after a moment. You scoffed a laugh, raising your brows as you finally brought yourself to look at him.
“Are you serious?…Harvey, you were allergic to feelings.” It was a little vindicating to see Harvey shift in his seat as you went on, “If I’d told you that I was struggling, you would’ve told me to buck up, that it wasn’t that hard, that I just needed to put my head down. You don’t respond weakness, you can’t fucking stand it.”
“You did just need to put your head down.”
Your mouth worked wordlessly for a moment, lips curling into a hysterical smile as you breathed, “Oh, my god—” Because there it was. There was the answer you’d expected years ago.
“You were top ten!” Harvey argued. “You were this close to knocking me off out of the top five.”
“I was losing my shit!” You lowered your voice, leaning in. “I couldn’t sleep. I was having panic attacks every time I left my room. I couldn’t handle it, alright? I’m not like you.”
“No, you’re not. I wouldn’t have given up.”
It was like a slap. You bit the inside of your cheek before you leaned back, nodding. You could feel your throat going thick as your eyes welled with tears.
“Okay,” You reached into your pocket, drawing your wallet out for a twenty as you stood. “Well thank you for this lovely trip down memory lane.”
“Sit down.”
“Fuck you.”   
You didn’t even care that your language drew the attention of the other patrons. You just strode out of there as quickly as you possibly could, hands fumbling for your phone to get a car. Maybe it shouldn’t have been so surprising that you heard his footsteps behind you moments later. It pushed you to walk faster, to keep him from seeing your watering eyes.
“Maybe it shouldn’t be surprising that you’re turning tail and running,” He sounds almost bored, “You’re so good at it.” 
“Leave me alone, Harvey.” 
“You know, I had the wildest theories back then. Kidnapped by a foreign government, taken by aliens, activated sleeper agent. It’s a bummer to find out that you were just a coward.” 
“Stop it,” You warned, shoving the door open and striding through it. You heard his palm hitting the wood behind you to keep the door from hitting him in the face, and you were desperate to escape it in the city noise. Harvey pushed on as if you haven’t said a thing:
“I used to think we were one and the same, but I would never have done what you did. I never would’ve just disappeared. Why didn’t you trust me—” His fingers curled around your wrist, tugging you to turn to him. His diatribe seemed to falter as he took in the tears slipping over your heated cheeks. You twisted your wrist out of his grip, tucking your arms around your middle and keeping your gaze anywhere but Harvey. 
“...You could’ve talked to me,” Harvey finally said. 
“You would’ve told me then exactly what you said just now, and that was the last fucking thing I needed back then. Frankly, it’s the last fucking thing I need right now.” 
“Look at me.” 
“No, you—You got your answers, alright? Get Beth her settlement.”
“You want me to get her settlement for you?” 
“I want you to get it for her. Because she deserves it. So, get her the money, the money she’s earned, and just…Just leave me alone.” 
You turned away from him again, getting just a little relief from the fact that you don’t hear him following you. 
You spent the night worrying that your answers won’t be enough, that Harvey would go out of his way to bury Beth in paper, screw her over to the point where you had to go back to knocking on the doors of firms willing to take her case on a pro bono basis. 
But when you turned up to work and Beth practically clobbered you with an excited hug, you knew that he hadn’t gone out of his way to fuck you over. You let out a sigh, patting Beth on the back and letting out a relieved laugh as repeated her thanks. 
--  
“Be nice.” 
That had been your boss’s only warning as you’d headed into a conversation with Gerald. And you had every intention of being nice. But you also wanted to be realistic. You glanced from the finance rep to the landline in the middle of the conference table as Gerald groused, “There's no need to be unreasonable.” 
“I don’t think us upholding our end of the contract is unreasonable," You argued. "We’ve done the SWOT analyses that you asked for in the past, and we’ll be happy to do them again. But we need to adjust the contract.” 
“You can’t just do a one-off and bill me extra?” 
“We could, but if we open that door, you’re just going to keep coming in, Gerald.”
“This is ridiculous,” He snapped. “I can cut this contract.” 
“Yeah, you can,” You nodded. “You are absolutely at liberty to do that.” You heard the sound of a door opening to the conference room, but you felt your focus locked-in to the phone. “But if you cut this contract, that’s going to cost you a lot of time and a lot of money. We have a guaranteed pay clause regardless of termination, so if you cut us loose, you’re still going to have to pay us for the full year. While you’re still shelling out cash to us, you’ll have to pay to bring on another firm. You’d be better off negotiating the additional SWOT analyses instead of paying two firms off at once.” 
You were quiet for a moment, brows raising as you and your associate waited in silence. You closed you eyes, holding your breath. Please, please please—
“How many SWOT analyses would I get with the increased cost?” He finally asked. 
“That’s up for negotiation,” Anne hurried to reply. “As it is, you’re averaging one per month. If we push it to a dozen, we could work with you to discount them at 25%.” 
Another pause. Another moment of you holding your breath, of please, please please please please—
“Send the revised contract.” 
“It’s already in your inbox," You admitted. "Thanks, Gerald.” 
“Yeah.” 
You reached out, stabbing the button to hang the phone up before he could change his mind. You sighed, slowly leaning back in your seat and peering up at the ceiling. Christ, you felt dizzy. 
“You can’t keep bullying our clients,” Anne grumbled.
“Our clients can’t keep bullying us. If we keep going the way we’re going, we’ll be the firm that does triple the work for half the pay. We’re too good for that.”  
“She’s right.” 
His voice made you whirl around in your seat, heart sinking into your stomach. Harvey stood just inside the room, his hands tucked into his pockets. Heat prickled along your neck. How long had he been there? Shit, you’d thought your boss had been the one to come in— 
You glanced toward Anne with a guilty smile. 
“Can we get a minute here?” 
“Sure,” She nodded, pushing herself out of her seat. Harvey grasped the door handle, holding it open and shooting her a wide smile as she walked past. You stood as well, folding your arms across your chest before hurriedly lowering them to tuck into your pockets. You wanted to mirror him, look as nonchalant as he did, not all twisted up and shielded and defensive. Oh, you were cool as a cucumber. Definitely no reason to worry here, no way. 
Harvey closed the door, stepping a little deeper inside. 
“What can I do for you today, Mr. Specter?” 
“Thought I’d come see how Beth’s planning on using her retirement check, how you’re going to use your fee.” 
You frowned. “What fee?” 
“You didn’t charge her a fee? Standard in New York is 40%.” 
“I wouldn't take Beth’s hard-earned money.” 
“You earned it, too, considering how hard you defended your client.” 
“Beth was not a client. This was a favor for a friend.” 
“That’s funny, because you called her that during our conversation.” 
“No, I didn’t.”  
“Yes, you did. You said that your client had had to endure a, what was it…‘Mountain of shit’?” 
“Well, that is true,” You muttered. “It was a mountain of shit.”
“Could’ve been two mountains of shit.” 
“But it wasn’t, so. I thank you for that.” 
“It’s only fair. You did what I asked, you answered most of my questions.” 
“Most?” You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. “What the hell else could you want to know?” 
“You wanna do this here?” 
“I don’t wanna do this at all.” 
“Why didn’t you come to me?” 
“Harvey.” 
“I didn’t have a clue—” 
“I am not doing this here.” You spoke more firmly than you felt. “This is my place of work.” 
“Well when I tried to do this elsewhere, you walked out on me.” 
“And yet you followed.” 
“Because I had a chance to this time. I didn’t get the chance back then."
You shook your head, averting your gaze. 
“Look,” Harvey stepped closer. “I’m just asking for a chance.” 
“Last night wasn’t enough for you?” 
“No, it wasn’t.” 
“Well, it was for me. Hell of a flashback, just like old times. Same old Harvey, not knowing when to back off. Strong, direct, painful line of questioning—all gas, no breaks.” 
Harvey was quiet for a moment, eyes skating over your face. 
“It won’t be an interrogation again.” 
“How can I know that?” 
“I was angry last night.” 
“And you’re not now?” 
“...Not in the same way.” 
“Oh, well. That’s a relief.” 
“I just want to understand. Help me understand.” 
“Understand what?” 
“How one of the smartest people I’ve ever known changed her mind all that time ago, and then flexed the hell out of her legal muscles to get me to close in ten goddamn minutes.” 
“People change, Harvey.” 
“You haven’t.” 
The two of you watched one another for a long, contentious, quiet moment before he said, “You need to come to my office.” 
“What for?” 
“To read over the NDA before Beth signs it.” 
Fuck, the NDA. You’d forgotten about that. 
“Fine," You nodded. "When.” 
“How’s tomorrow work for you?” 
“Tomorrow's a Saturday. You’re gonna do this on a weekend?” 
“Gives us time to turn around any edits you need before you give it to Beth on Monday.” 
You bit the inside of your cheek. Goddamnit. 
“Fine,” You agreed. “How’s seven?” 
“Sure. We can grab dinner—” 
“In the morning.” 
Harvey’s brow jumped, his chin tipping down a touch.
“Are you serious?” He asked. 
“Completely. You wanna get this NDA into your associate’s hands as quickly as possibly, right?” 
“You expect me to be in my office at seven in the morning so you can read something.” 
“You could’ve saved us both a trip and just brought it with you.” 
“It’s still being worked on.”
“Well, you can have someone messenger it over tonight and I’ll drop it off tomorrow morning. Or is it long enough that you’re going to, um…Gosh, what was that neat little threat, again? Bury me in paper?” 
You saw something flash across Harvey’s face. You didn’t know if it was remorse, or what—but it’s gone as soon as it appears. 
“Fine,” He bit out. “Seven. In the morning.” 
“Sounds good.” 
“Don’t be late.” 
“Oh, I won’t. I’m very punctual.” 
“I remember.” 
Your stomach flipped. Of course he did. He turned away, opening the door…And holding it open. 
“What are you doing?” You asked, raising your brows. 
“Are you coming?” 
“Are we camping out outside of your office overnight? You strike me as a glamping guy.” 
“I thought you were leaving the room.” 
“I’m not.” 
“Your meeting is over.” 
“I have a quiet room and a SWOT analysis to work on.” 
“You’re telling me you haven’t done it already?” 
Your face went hot at the accusation, lips pressing to hold in your irritation at the way Harvey smiled. You were relieved when he finally turned away. It gave you a chance to sink down in your chair and parse through what the hell just happened. 
--  
“Oh, wow. You’re early.” 
You raised your brows at the tone of surprise, eyeing the entrance to the building, and then turning your attention back to the young man that had just sprung up in your way. 
“Yes, I am. Good morning, Mr. Ross.” 
“Please, call me Mike. Not on the other side of the table anymore.” 
“Well, until that NDA gets signed, yes, you are, so. Excuse me.” 
You made to step around him, but he stepped into your way again. 
“I just wanted to say,” He added, “That I really admire how hard you worked for Beth, and I completely agreed with your assessment of the company’s value.” 
“...Thank you, I appreciate that. Now, if you could just—” 
You side-stepped him again—and again, Mike got in your way, pressing: 
“I honestly didn’t think they’d cave for a million, but you really showed them—” 
“Mike?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Did Harvey ask you to make me late?” 
Mike’s mouth worked wordlessly for a moment, panic marring his features. You smiled sweetly. 
“You know, I’m not sure what Harvey has told you about our past, but he probably didn’t mention that we were in an intramural dodgeball league. I can throw some mean elbows when I’m trying to get what I want, and you look like you bruise easily. So if you’d like to keep your ability to bend comfortably, please step aside and let me in.” 
Mike pursed his lips before he nodded once, stepping aside. 
“Thank you,” You cooed, sliding past him. 
“I really do admire what you did for Beth!” He called out after you. You snorted, shaking your head as you headed to the lobby to get a visitor’s pass. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t more than a little antsy, glancing at your phone as you waited for the elevator, then waited in the elevator. When you stepped off, you found a stunning red-head standing there. Her eyes brightened at the sight of you, and she took a step back as you stepped off of the elevator. 
“Mr. Specter’s office is this way,” She waved for you to follow. You raised your brows, falling into step. 
“Was that a lucky guess, or did you know who to look for?” You asked.
“I knew. I don’t operate on luck.” 
“Right. Did Harvey or Mike show you a picture of me?” 
“Nope. I found pictures myself.” 
“For what purpose?” 
“Curiosity.” 
“Sated?” 
“Very.” 
“Excellent. Do I get to know who you are, or do I have to go sleuthing on the firm’s site after this?” 
“I’m Donna.” 
“And what do you do here?” 
“I just told you,” She stopped, waving you toward an office, “I’m Donna.” 
You raised your brows before you turned, walking into the office. How the hell did he look pristine this early in the morning? Did the bastard sleep in a suit? His brow furrowed at the sight of you, shaking his sleeve back and eyeing his watch. 
“6:59? What the hell did Mike do down there?” 
“He made a valiant attempt, but I got past him.” 
“How?” 
“How did I get past him?” 
“Yes.” 
“Bullshitted him. Told him that we used to play dodgeball together, that I know how to throw a mean elbow. He crumbled like a bran muffin.” 
“Damn.” 
“You really should teach him how to lie. Second I called him on it, he blue-screened.” 
“Trust me, Mike knows how to lie.” 
“Whatever,” You shook your head. “Can I have the NDA so I can go?” 
“Go? Oh, no. This doesn’t leave the office.” 
“...Excuse me?” 
“This document doesn’t leave the building until it’s ready to go to Beth.” 
“You’re kidding.” 
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” 
Your mouth worked wordlessly for a moment before you snapped it shut. 
“....Fine.” 
Harvey took up the document, holding it out. You fought the urge to snatch it from him, instead taking hold of it before you sat down in one of the seats in front of his desk. 
“Need a pen?” He asked. 
“Nope,” You shrugged off your bag, rooting around in it before drawing out a red papermate felt tip pen. 
“You hungry?” 
Yes, you were. You’d been planning on getting breakfast and a massive coffee before going over the damn thing on your own, in your apartment, but no. Harvey had done what Harvey always does: turned the situation in his favor. 
“No,” You answered, uncapping the pen. 
“Let me know if you change your mind.” 
You didn’t answer to that, you just tipped your head into your hand as you settled in:
THE PARTIES: This Non-Disclosure Agreement (referred to herein as the “Agreement”) created on__________, is by and between…
You were quiet for a moment, tipping your head to the side as you skimmed your finger over the pages. 
“Harvey?” 
“Sure, we can do bagels.” 
Damnit, a bagel sounded so good right now.
“Why is this NDA…” You tipped your head to the side, flipping through the file, “Thirty pages?” 
“Because it needs to be.” 
“Ballpark, this should’ve been six, tops.” 
“You’re dealing with a big company. They want to make sure their bases are covered.” 
You shot Harvey a disbelieving look from under your lashes before you looked back down at the file. 
“Besides,” Harvey added, “It’s not the length, it’s—” 
“—It’s the content, yeah yeah,” You muttered. You heard him huff a soft laugh, but you forced the flutter of butterflies in your belly aside in favor of focusing. Hell, you needed to get through this, and fast. If you weren’t careful, your stomach was going to start grumbling. 
--  
“Here we go.” 
You glanced up, doing a double-take at the sight of the coffee tray in Donna’s hand. You looked back down at your work, finishing a note that you’ve been jotting before you turn the page. You went still when Donna held a cup out to you.
“Sugar-free iced dirty chai with a double shot,” She offered. You raised your brows, taking hold of the cup. 
“You’re good,” You nodded.
“I’m Donna.” 
“I remember.” You couldn’t help but smile at her before you took a greedy sip of the iced chai. Oh man, that hit the spot. You’d been there a while, and you were starting to get a headache. You hadn’t tried to parse through legalese like this in a long time, especially not on an empty stomach. 
“So? Are we doing bagels?” Harvey pressed. You glanced at where he was leaning back against an end table lined with basketballs. He arched his brows. “Come on, it’s been an hour and you’re only halfway through. You’re going to run out of steam if you’re not careful.” 
“...You’re paying for them.”
“Of course.” 
“Then yes, please. Bagels.” 
“They’ll be here in five,” Donna warned, striding past you and back to her desk. 
“She’s very good,” You commented, nodding after her as you turned back to your work, making another note. 
“You really are gonna run out of ink.” 
You fought the urge to mimic him, just going on about your business. 
“I’ve got plenty of pens,” Harvey added. 
“Law firm this big, I’d hope you’d have a few pens.” 
“More than a few. Hundreds.” 
“Mm.” 
“Thousands, even.” 
“If you’re not sure if it’s hundreds or thousands, then maybe you should go count them and get back to me.” 
“You just want me out of the room.” 
“I want you to stop watching me.” 
“Why?” 
“It’s creeping me out.” 
“Did it always?”
“Objection: relevance.” 
“If you allow me a little latitude, I can establish relevance.” 
“No thanks.” 
“Why are you going over this thing with such a fine-tooth comb?” 
“I wanna make sure you don’t screw Beth over somewhere.” 
“You don’t trust me?” 
“I don’t trust your client. You work for your client.” 
“I do what’s best for my client.” 
“And I’m doing what’s best for my friend.” 
“Your due-diligence.” 
“I’m just reading, Harvey.” 
“You and I both know it’s more than that.” 
You ignored the comment, turning to the next page of the NDA. 
“Food’s here,” Harvey spoke up after a few minutes of quiet.
“Thanks.” 
You could hear the rustle of bags as Donna unpacked things before leaving again. 
“...You gonna put that down?” Harvey asked. 
“When I’m finished with it, sure.” 
“What about the bagels?” 
“I’ll take it to go when I’m done here.” 
“Come on, I can hear your stomach growling from here.” 
“My stomach isn’t growling.”
“Not at the moment, but it has been.” 
“I’ll live through eleven more pages.” 
“The bagel will get cold.” 
“I’ll heat it back up.” 
“You’re going to reheat a toasted bagel?” 
“Yes, using the same apparatus that toasted it in the first place.” 
“A twice-toasted bagel is gonna be hard as a rock.”
“Oh well.” 
“And if you don’t eat now, I will use all of the scallion cream cheese.” 
“Knock yourself out.”
“I mean all of it. There’s a ton here, and I probably couldn’t fit all of it on a bagel, so I’d have to go in with a spoon. You want me to do that?” 
“Do whatever the hell you want, Harvey. You usually do.” 
Blessedly, that shut him up for a few moments. 
“So did you,” He countered after a moment. You didn't need a law degree to catch that insinuation.
“I didn’t leave Harvard because I wanted to. I left because I had to.” 
“You chose to.” 
“I made a decision that favored my mental and physical health over my career prospects. There's nothing wrong with that.” 
“You ever regret it?” 
You considered for a moment, gaze drifting from the papers. 
“...Sometimes,” You admitted finally, glancing toward Harvey. “When this whole thing with Beth cropped up, yeah. It was a bummer not to have the full force of the degree behind me. But…If I had become a lawyer, I probably wouldn’t have met Beth, or had enough time to help her, so…” You shrugged, looking back down at the NDA. “It’s not as easy as just regretting it or not regretting it.” 
“You regret leaving everyone behind?” 
“...Yeah. I could’ve been better about the way I did it, but at the time, cutting everyone off felt like the right thing to do.” 
“Even me.” 
“Harvey,” You sighed heavily, “I’m not saying that what I did was right for everyone involved. If I had reached out to you, to Scottie, to any of our friends, maybe I would’ve gotten a different answer, but the way that you reacted to me the other day? When you told me that I was a coward?” You lifted your head to meet his eye. “That was exactly what I was expecting. And you know what, it hurt like hell last night, but there is no way I could’ve handled hearing that from you back then.” 
Harvey’s jaw worked for a moment. 
“I shouldn’t have said that,” He admitted softly. “I’m sorry.” 
You hesitated before you nodded a little, turning back to the NDA. 
“If it’s what you felt—” 
“It wasn’t,” Harvey shook his head. “I was mad, and I let it get the better of me.”
“And you’re not mad now?” 
“Not at you for that.” 
“But you are mad at me.” 
“For making me get up to be in the office at seven in the morning? Yeah, I’m outraged.”
You fought back a smile, shrugging.
“Didn’t mean to fuck with your beauty sleep, princess.” 
You turn the page, twiddling the pen between your fingers. 
“You’ll make it up to me.” 
“Will I?” You arched a brow. “How exactly do you think I’m going to do that?” 
“You’ll pay for dinner tonight.” 
“Oh, we’re getting dinner?” 
“I’m fully aware of the vast difference in our salaries, so I’ll pick somewhere with only one Michelin star.” 
“What a generous smug asshole. Time really has changed you.” 
“It hasn’t changed either of us.” 
“I don’t know. I think you’re more of a dick than I remember you being.” 
“I’m blushing.” 
“Sure, Specter.”
“Put the NDA down and have a bagel.” 
“Bossy.” 
“It’s my office, I get to be bossy.” 
“Fine. I’ll take the NDA to a conference room and give us both some space.” 
“Keep your seat, have a bagel, and let me see what you have so far.” 
You didn’t look up until you saw a plate lowered into your field of vision. You arched your brows before you raised the NDA, holding it out to Harvey as you took hold of the plate. You shifted in your seat, sitting up just a bit. Crap, you hadn’t realized how far down you’d slid in your seat over the course of the last hour. You set the bagel aside for a moment, capping your pen and tucking it behind your ear. You twist the top off of the bagel, lapping at the thick layer of cream cheese before taking a bite. You can’t even help the soft, relieved groan that you let out at the taste. 
Damn, you were hungry. 
You glanced across the desk, met by Harvey’s smug smile. 
“Shuddup,” You mumble around the mouthful. 
“Didn’t say anything.” 
“Didn’t have to.” 
You took another bite as Harvey began to flip through the notes that you’d made in the NDA. 
“You’re having fun with this,” He comments. 
“I’m protecting my friend.”
“And you’re having fun doing it.” 
“Sure, Harvey.” 
“You are.” 
“So you’ve upgraded from not analyzing your own feelings to telling everyone else theirs?” 
“Not everyone. Just the people that I know.” 
“Bold claim.” 
“I told you—you haven’t changed. This NDA proves that.” 
“How so?” 
“Because so far, you have marked every single thing that I threw in there to trip you up.” 
You nearly dropped the plate, and the bagel. You completely froze in the middle of your chewing. Harvey’s smug smile widened as he closed the NDA and reached out, taking up another, far thinner file from his desk, holding it out. 
“Here’s the clean one.” 
You reached out, setting the plate down on the desk. You flipped it open, embarrassment beginning to well up as you saw entire passages from the previous NDA—the very ones that you’d spent your time marking—omitted. You nodded for a moment before you muttered, “Okay.” You dropped it into your purse, slung your purse over your shoulder, and stood, taking the remainder of the dirty chai and the bagel with you. 
“Hang on,” Harvey groaned. 
“Nice meeting you, Donna,” You commented, ignoring Harvey as you passed her desk. 
“You too!” She chirped over Harvey’s following, and his call of, “Would you wait a minute!” 
“Why, so you can keep making a fool of me?” You bit out.
“I didn’t do it to make a fool of you, I did it to make a point.” 
“And what point would that be?” 
“That you’re a damn smart person—” 
“I knew that already—” 
“And that you would’ve made an amazing lawyer! You could still make an amazing lawyer!” 
“That doesn’t mean that I want to be one!” You whirled around to face Harvey, face hot and close to his as he comes to a sudden stop to keep from ramming into you. “Just because my goals changed doesn’t make them any less important than yours. I am glad you’re a lawyer. I’m glad you have your corner office, your fancy fucking suits, your title, your position. But I’m glad that I have my life, the way I want it, without all of this. I get that what I did hurt you back then, and I am sorry. But I wasn’t fighting to knock you out of the top five when I was at school. I was fighting for my life. I know that I am smart. I know that I could’ve been an amazing lawyer, but I am happy just being myself as I am, right now. If that’s not enough for you, I don’t give a shit, because it’s my life, not yours.” 
You left Harvey standing alone in the hall, his gobsmacked, stunned expression remaining as you turned away from him and strode to the elevator. He didn’t bother to chase you down this time, which was a relief. You managed to hold it together as the elevator doors slid open, studiously ignoring Mike as he stepped off and greeted you: 
“Hey! Done already?” 
You reached out, jabbing the lobby and door close buttons as quickly as you could. 
--  
Mike’s brow furrowed as she disappeared from sight. He turned away from the elevator, peering around the corner to see who might be nearby. There wasn’t anyone there for a few moments, and then…Harvey, standing there looking stunned and lost. 
“Did she already finish her mark-up?” Mike asked. The question seemed to snap Harvey out of his reverie. He cleared his throat, straightening and turning away. 
“She got halfway. I gave her the clean version.” 
“What? I thought you were only going to give it to her if she caught 95% of the errors."
“She was on track to catch every single one. Spoiling the surprise didn’t seem like such a bad idea.” 
“Is that because this whole endeavor has been a bad idea?” Donna piped up as the two neared her desk.
“I don’t wanna hear it,” Harvey warned as he strode past her. 
“I wanna hear it, but I don’t have time, I have uh,” Mike pointed down the hall, “A 10-Q filing to comb through—” 
“Go,” Harvey nodded him away before he turned, heading back into his office. He reached out, taking up her half-marked NDA. His gaze skated over her notes, and it was as if he was transported back to Langdell, to the notes that she would scrawl in his margins, questioning his citations and methodology. 
“...She’s happy as she is.” 
“Donna."
“She said it herself!” 
“She’s not working at her full potential.” 
“Sounded like she preferred it that way. You’ve seen her at work. Is she bad at her job?”
“No.” 
“Good at it?” 
“What’s your point.” 
“My point is,” Dinna leaned in the door frame, “That success looks different to different people. For you, it apparently looks like rubbing someone's skills in their own face. And I think if you keep harping on what might’ve been, she’ll just resent you for it—and if you lose her again, you’ll resent yourself for that, too.” 
Donna raised her brows pointedly before she pushed off of the door frame. Harvey looked after her for a moment before he lowered himself into his seat, tossing the NDA onto his desk. What to do next? 
Bringing her there hadn’t brought him much luck, but so far, going to her had been far more effective. 
--  
“I’m going to file a restraining order.” 
“May as well do it on a full stomach.” 
“I don’t have the NDA here, I sent it back with my edits.” 
“I know.” 
You glanced between Harvey’s calm expression and the bag of takeout that he was holding up. You sighed heavily. You thought you’d been able to shake Harvey, at least for the day. As soon as you’d gotten home, you’d double-checked the NDA, and hadn’t been able to find a thing wrong with it. You’d sent it back with a messenger, unwilling to step foot in that damn office again that day. You’d been certain that that would be in, but there Harvey is. 
“I promised you dinner,” He adds. 
“I thought you said that I’d be the one paying for it.” 
“I take cash and Venmo.”
“Okay—” You drew your hand back to shut the door, but Harvey pressed his palm against the wood before you could. 
“Wait a second.”
“Harvey, I can’t do handle a repeat of this morning.” 
“I’m not asking you to. This morning, I wanted to understand what happened, I got that.” 
“Then what are you doing here?” 
Harvey seemed to have to brace himself. 
“The woman that I knew at Harvard…The woman that I thought I knew—” 
“Thin ice, Specter.”
“—I had a different perspective of you then. I know we can’t blank slate this, but I’d like to get to know you properly, and I want you to get to know me. As adults. I wanna know what I’ve missed.” 
You considered for a long moment, your gaze dropping to the bag of takeout. Letting him in wasn’t the greatest idea. If it went south again, you couldn’t just storm out—it was your apartment. But there were things about Harvey that you’d missed, too; things that you hadn’t been able to learn about through your mutual friends, and things that you couldn’t just get from googling the guy’s name.  
“What’d you get?” You asked finally.
“Chinese.” 
“Dumplings?” 
“Vegetarian, fried.” 
You sighed, stepping back and nodding over your shoulder with a concession of, “Alright.” 
-- 
There were a lot of things that you had remembered about Harvey. But sitting on the floor of your living room, leaning back against your couch as you ate dinner and drank beer was bringing back so much more. Harvard had held so many bad memories that it had nearly crowded out the good ones, the warm ones. But now, as Harvey busted your balls, teased you, ribbed you as he nudged your knee with his, or your arm with his, or your shoulder with his, was bringing back memories of vicious butterflies. 
Oh, you’d had the worst of crushes on this man. It had only been made worse by late nights spent in his dorm, all-nighters pulled at the library, nights spent dancing with him at parties. You’d been certain that there had never been anything there, and you hadn’t pushed it. Harvey had been your friend, a good friend. But now, with the way Harvey’s smiles softened and his gazes lingered, you found yourself wondering if there had ever been anything more, anything that the both of you had buried. 
“...I was sorry to hear about your brother.” 
Your admission came out of a quiet moment, and it sobered the both of you. Harvey nodded a little, lowering his head and looking at the beer in his hands. 
“I would’ve reached out,” You added, “But I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me at that point.” 
“I didn’t.” 
You nodded at his confirmation, and it was your turn to look at the beer in your hands. 
“You knew more about my life than I thought you would,” Harvey added, leaning back against the couch and shifting to face you a little.
“Well, some of our mutual friends kept me informed on the happenings of the great Harvey Specter.” 
“Why didn’t they tell me about you?” 
“I asked them not to.” 
“Why?”
“Figured you hated me.” 
You bit your lip as Harvey reached out, taking the beer out of your hands and setting it on the coffee table. Your stomach flipped as his hand raised, tucking two fingers beneath your chin to turn your head toward him. You hesitantly met his gaze, stunned by the warmth you found there. 
“I never hated you,” He murmured. “I was upset, sure. I was angry, and confused. But I didn’t hate you.”
“Maybe you should’ve.” 
“Couldn’t if I tried.” 
“Did you try?” 
“Yes.” Hervey’s thumb smoothed along your jaw. “But every time I got angry, I worried, too. I had no idea where you were. I didn’t know if you were alright, if you were at another school or dead in a ditch somewhere.” 
“I’m sorry—” 
“I know,” Harvey nodded, hand smoothing around to your nape. “But I’ve gotta say, if you ever disappear on me like that again—” 
“You’re done?” 
“I’m gonna send a hundred fucking Pinkertons after you.” 
You scoffed a laugh, brows raising.  “That a threat, Mr. Specter?”
“It’s a promise.”He shifted closer. “I’m not losing you again.” 
“You did fine without me.” 
“I would’ve done better with you.” 
“You didn’t need me! You had Scottie, you had Jessica, you have your career and your suits and your—” 
Before you could say another word, Harvey pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes went a touch wide at the sudden unexpected contact. It was a moment before you let yourself lean into him. You raised your hand hesitantly, resting it on his chest as he drew you closer. Your knees knocked against his as you cuddled against him, humming softly as Harvey sucked your lower lip between his. You leaned back a touch, smiling as he rested his forehead against yours. 
“I want you around,” Harvey murmured. “Can’t that be enough?” 
You nodded, sweeping your thumb gently under his collar. 
“It’s enough. More than enough.” 
Taglist: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @20th-centu-fairy-girl
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knavesflames · 21 days
Note
Childhood friend Arlecchino and Reader that Arle never truly found her to be a friend, despite the reader saying they are and Arle did kinda ditch em during middle school. Until college rolls around, the newfound (or unrealized) sentiments towards Reader become more clear to her - infatuated.
I feel like I kind of strayed from this because I’m totally into angst rn but if wanted it to be sexual I can indeed make another part OR I can also make an even angstier ending. Anyway!! Here it is.
Contents: just sad reader, Arlecchino is lowkey mean in middle school, one (sexual) slap.
Word count: 1672
Writing (kind of NSFW at the end) under the cut!!
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You skipped up to the small girl who sits reading on a bench, holding a small pile of rocks and a wide smile on your face. You don’t have many friends, you’re too quiet, too ‘weird’, so when you befriended Arlecchino, you actually began looking forward to school each day. It was almost too good to be true. She’s been a bit distant with you the last couple of weeks but that’s fine, right? She’s probably stuck into that book of hers, her nose has always been in a book or playing with insects.
“Look!! I found rocks that matched your eyes and I thought they were cool, you can-“
“Stop it.”
“..huh? Stop what?”
“Stop bothering me. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
You pause at that. In a sense, she is busy reading, but can’t she put her book down for two seconds? You haven’t properly spoken in weeks.
“Yeah but I was excited about the rocks. I can never find any that remind me of you and now I have.”
“Okay? I am still busy.”
“But we’re friends.”
A sigh leaves Arlecchino’s lips, and she finally looks up from that book.
“No, we aren’t. When did I ever say we were friends?”
You feel your shoulders sinking, a frown tugging at the corner of your lips. Your hand falls to your side, the rocks held tightly within the constraints of your fist.
“No, I.. you didn’t, but I just assumed that.. I don’t know. I thought we were friends.”
“You assumed wrong. I don’t like you anymore, you’re weird, and you never stop talking. I don’t want to talk.”
Your cheeks puff slightly before you let out a puff of air. Your teeth graze your lip, biting down firmly as you stand there in silence, processing. Weird. There’s that word again, no? You feel a sort of pain rise in your chest, but you swallow it.
“Okay. I’m sorry. You can keep the rocks.”
The rocks are placed onto the table beside her, an assortment of black and white and grey all decorating the rocks. And one, one black one with a red cross on it, clearly drawn. You just wanted to make her feel included, everyone was finding rocks that matched their eyes. You keep staring at her for a while longer, but she doesn’t look back up, so you turn.
“I’ll tell my mom you can’t come for dinner, then.”
Arlecchino finally looks up when she hears that. God, she hears the hurt you’re masking, the tears threatening to spill over your lashes. She shouldn’t have been so crass with you, she knows that, but that’s who she is. Blunt, and she was sick of having to pretend. She watches as your figure shrinks towards the school library, where she first met you. You didn’t have any friends, so you ate there. It was better than sitting at that dreaded buddy bench and waiting for someone to ask you to be their friend. As you walk, you pass said bench, a feeling of slight dread rising. To the library, then.
It’s then that Arlecchino notices the rock you drew on, her face softening for just a second. She brushes the rocks off of the table, pocketing the one you drew on before continuing her book without a word. She moves seats in class after that, and she’s not unaware of your eyes that burn sadly into her as she picks up her books. They’re rimmed red and slightly glassy, and it stabs her heart. You two never talk again after that. She goes back to being the girl at the back of the class that enjoys being alone, that enjoys the misconceptions people make about her. You sit in the middle of the class, staring down at your textbooks, silently yearning to be part of the conversations the kids around you have.
Each year passes and both of you grow older. She kept that rock, it’s in her pocket always. It’s become some sort of lucky charm for her, and god she can’t help but stare at you in class as you become more beautiful with every passing year. By senior year, you’re the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen. She can’t stop thinking about you. She finds herself stalking your social media when she’s at home, her finger always hovering over the like button, her fingers always hovering over the send message button before deleting the entire paragraph. She knows you’re both off to college soon, she’ll most likely never see you again, and yet she still can’t bring herself to admit her feelings. She can still see the hurt in your eyes from that day, the way you dismissed it like it was nothing only to cry in secret after. She dreams of you at night. Dreams of how she regrets what she said and the way she said it, dreams of her holding your hand and looking at rocks together, dreams of your whimpers as she fucks you. She hates that last dream. The dream that gets stuck in her brain constantly, so much so that she nearly failed her biology final. On graduation day, she makes a promise to herself that she’ll never think of you again.
But she does. Fast forward to junior year of college and you’re walking with your headphones on, looking down at your phone until you collide with someone, a harsh “watch it” in your ear.
“Sorry! I’m sor- ah. Sorry.”
You look up into the same red and black eyes you once considered a friend. How stupid. Out of all the colleges she could have possibly chosen, she chose the one you chose too.
“It’s fine. Just.. Watch it. You’re as clumsy as you ever were.”
“I’m sorry, I just wasn’t looking.”
Arlecchino swallows the nerves rising in her body and finally makes a conversation with you, her voice blunt, awkward.
“How have you been?”
“Fine, thank you. You?”
She scowls slightly as your dismissive tone reaches her ears. You were never like this before.
“Good. I’m good. What are you majoring in?”
“I’m going into geology.”
Of course it’s geology. She didn’t expect anything less from you, really.
“Fun. I’m going to study insects.”
“Go figure.”
“I’m sorry. For what I said back then. I know I hurt you.”
“You didn’t.”
“You cried.”
She has you there. She saw your eyes when she moved seats in class, it wasn’t exactly easy to hide the redness. You pause, not saying anything for a while.
“We weren’t friends. We aren’t friends. What does it have to do with you?”
“You were lonely and it made me rethink.”
“Weird people are meant to be lonely, don’t you think?”
You’ve carried those words with you ever since. It didn’t really matter when other children called you that, but the one person you considered a friend.. well, it hurt.
“I just.. didn’t appreciate the eccentricity. That’s all. I miss you.”
“Okay.”
“I dream about you.”
“It isn’t like you to be this emotional. Do you feel guilty because I was lonely afterwards or because you want to clear your conscience?”
“Both.”
As honest as ever. You take a deep breath, the music still playing in your headphones that now hang around your neck.
“We can talk in my dorm room.”
You turn on your heel, walking straight to the block of dorms. At least she’s not in the same block, she thinks. She can at least avoid you if this goes bad. The thought of going to your room though.. her dreams of fucking you have only come back, and stronger. Your room is cozy, so very you.
“Is that.. KISS?”
She points to the poster on your desk. She hates that she’s familiar with them, because she hates that she’s more like you than she could ever want to be.
“Yep.”
“I like them too.”
She gingerly sits on your bed, letting her bag drop with a thud. As you walk over to join her, in all your clumsy glory you kick the bag by mistake as you stumble over it, watching as the rock you once painted on tumbles out. Silence.
“You still have that.”
“I never got rid of it.”
Her heart beats faster. So does yours. Your face, so beautiful in the light of your room, the way your hair shines, the way your eyes have a mix of sadness, anger and happiness in them, all of them fighting to take over.
“You’re beautiful.”
Her words cut through your thoughts. You look up at her and you can’t deny the way your heart flutters as you look at her. You suppose you’ve always felt the way you do about her, that it’s why it hurt you so much when she said you weren’t friends. And once again, your mind is brought out of your thoughts by a sudden crash of her lips on yours. A surprised sound comes from your throat, but you don’t fight against it.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“It isn’t.”
“You’re here now.”
Hands wrap around your waist, tightening and pulling you closer to her as her lips leave yours and pepper kisses on your jaw, trailing down to your neck, and then your shoulder. And you don’t stop her. Your hands entangle themselves in her hair. What the hell has gotten into you? And her, for that matter, as her hand slides under your shirt and you feel the coldness of her skin on your stomach. Your own hands shed her jacket and she whispers against your skin.
“Let me.”
“Hm?”
“Let me do what I do in my dreams.”
“What’s that, then? Dissect insects?”
A gentle, sensual, almost desperate and loving slap of your face as she grips your chin, forcing you to look into her eyes, those ones you avoided for so long. You wonder how she knew exactly what to do to turn you on.
“Let me fuck you and show you how sorry I am. How much I missed you.”
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moodriingz · 4 months
Text
Waiting Room | Q. Hughes
Summary | Reader works for the Canucks’ socials and has an unrequited crush on Quinn. Based off of Waiting room by Phoebe Bridgers.
Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc
Warnings | unrequited love, angst, moving on?
Author's Note | Oh my gosh this ended up so much longer than intended, so buckle in it’s a long one. I thought about trying to shorten it but I had so many ideas about what to include. I was also so nervous to write this one that it took me forever to finish. Also thinking of writing a part two, but let me know what you think. Please send in requests for other players!
Masterlist
Part two
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If you were a teacher, I would fail your class
Take it over and over 'til you noticed me
“This is why you are the best person ever,” Quinn said as you carried an insane amount of coffee for some of the team and the Canucks social staff.
“Oh, it’s no big deal I always just pick some up when I get mine,” you say as you almost drop the lattes from your hands. “I’m going to find Elias and drop his off and then head to my desk. See you at practice.”
“Y/N how did you know I didn’t get the chance to pick up my coffee?” Elias asked with a smirk. “Or did you just get extra so it wouldn’t be obvious you love to get Quinn’s coffee?”
“Goodbye Elias! I’ll see you on the ice in a bit!” You shout as you walk down the hall to the social media office.
You set down the last two coffees on your desk, go through your emails, and write down some ideas for content before your morning meeting. 
“Y/N you have to stop buying his coffee, you're just torturing yourself,” Megan says as she sets her bag down. “But please don’t stop bringing me coffee because I never have enough time to get some myself.”
“Ok Megan I’ll keep that in mind, but I don’t get it just for Quinn, I also got it for Elias today,” you say with a blush covering your cheeks.
“Yeah alright. Let’s go get this meeting started.”
If you were a waiting room, I would never see a doctor
I would sit there with my first aid kit and bleed
After the meeting with the rest of the social media and communications team, it’s decided that you have to go on the ice to capture content today. Usually, you can just film from the bench, but your boss wanted some trending content that required you to skate with the team. The only bad thing about filming on the ice was your awful case of clumsiness.
You were filming content with Brock when you tripped over your own two feet. Normally, you’d laugh it off after getting up, but your left foot twisted under your body. 
You wince as Brock helps you stand to skate off the pain but yelp the second you put your weight on the foot. Quinn watches as Brock’s hands are on your waste and immediately skates over the second you cry out in pain.
“Are you ok? What happened?” Quinn asked, putting your arm around his shoulders to support you as he took you to the bench.
“I-I’m fine. I just twisted my ankle as I fell,” You say looking into his worried eyes.
“Ok, let me take the skate off, and then we can go to the trainers and get you ice,” Quinn grimaces as he takes the skate off and sees your ankle already swelling.
“It’s probably just a sprain, but we need to get ice on this ASAP. I’ll take you to the trainers, let's go,” Quinn says standing to help you up.
“But what about practice? You guys have your East Coast road trip coming up, and I’m not going to be the reason you skip out on practice,” You say trying to figure your way to get ice or wait until Megan comes to help. 
Truthfully though, you don’t want him to take you because the way Quinn is taking care of you makes you fall harder for him.
“Don’t be crazy. Practice is almost over and they won’t miss me for the five minutes it’ll take me to make sure you’re ok,” Quinn says as you nod reluctantly. You feel your blush coming back and know you’re never going to get over your silly crush on Quinn Hughes.
I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and holds you down
I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery
The next night the Canucks lost to the Flyers with just a game left before the two-week road trip. The loss was hard following Christmas, and Quinn was beating himself up over the game. You found him after finishing up your content for the night and he finished his interviews. He tried to smile at you, but it looked like a grimace from how tight his lips were.
“Hey how are you,” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You say sheepishly.
“Yeah, I guess. Are you busy tonight? I was hoping we could hang out at my place and watch some movies,” Quinn’s question surprised you. You’ve only really hung out in group settings or when the team went out after a game.
“I’m free, let me just finish wrapping some stuff up and then we can go,” You say with butterflies forming in your chest. 
You go and find Megan and tell her everything that happened with Quinn.
“Shut up you’re going, right?” She asks.
“Yeah of course I am, I think I’d be stupid not to. I’m just nervous,” You respond. 
“Don’t be. He asked you over for a reason he must not hate you.” Megan says practically pushing you out the door.
You nod and go back to find Quinn talking to Elias while he waits for you to come back. 
“Hey ready to go?” You ask.
“You’re replacing me for our movie nights?” Elias blurts out of jealousy.
“No, not completely replacing you. I just didn’t want to wallow alone. Plus I figured Y/N would be free,” Quinn says nonchalantly. There’s a pang in your chest because not only is this a tradition with someone else, but that he just assumed you’re at his beck and call. You both arrive at his apartment after a silent drive from Rogers arena.
“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks, swaying back and forth. Is he nervous? Why would he be? It's not like this is a date or anything. This is something he always does with Elias. 
“Can I just have water?” You say quieter than intended. You felt small and out of place in his apartment.
“Of course. Do you want to pick out the movie? I figure you should do the honors for your first movie night,” He says as he pours your water. 
You think for a second and immediately know you should put on your favorite rom-com 13 going on 30. It’s kind of a comfort movie and you might calm down with something familiar. Once it’s pulled up he sits down with you on the couch.
And I can wish all that I want, but it won't bring us together
Plus I know whatever happens to me, I know it's for the better
He told you he’s never seen the movie as he sits down and watches intently until the birthday scene.
“Man, I feel so bad for that Matty kid.”
“Why,” you say, keeping your attention on the tv.
“His unrequited love with Jenna,” He says it so plainly like he’s toying with you for your confession.
“Yeah unrequited love is the worst,” You say finally looking over at him.
“Why do you have feelings like that for someone,” He chuckles at the idea. You realize he doesn’t know that you have feelings for him.
“No. I did at one point,” You say, and the subject is dropped. You watch the rest of the movie and he orders you an Uber home. You realized that night that your crush needs to end no matter how hard it is.
And when broken bodies are washed ashore
Who am I to ask for more, more, more?
Quinn seems to be in a much better mood from the loss the night before. But you want to avoid him at all costs today. Your boss asks you to do something with him later. There’s nothing you rather do than work with Quinn, but You want to stay in your boss’ good graces.
She asked you to shoot a video with a concept that had been performing well on socials with other players. You find Quinn before he steps out for practice to let him know you’re following him for the day.
“Hopefully you can keep a better balance than you did with Brock,” He chuckles.
“Yeah I’ll try my best not to fall today,” you say with your signature blush covering your cheeks.
“Well if you do I’ll catch you. Can’t have my favorite staffer breaking something.” Oh, he must be playing with you. Your face is completely flushed and you give a court nod before running to the restroom to calm down.
You start to think over your last couple of conversations. Had he been flirting? Or giving you more attention than usual? You think about how he rushed to your side and left practice just to help you even if it got him in trouble. You think about his smile when you bring his coffee. You think about last night how he was so tuned into unrequited love.
“No Y/N there are bigger things than a silly little crush. You have to go do your job.” You say to yourself in the mirror. After your pep talk, you go out on the ice, shoot your content quickly, and then go back to your office to edit. You tell yourself that you need to stop focusing so much on Quinn.
But you're breathing in my open mouth
You're the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out
The Canucks win the next game, and before you can make it into the locker room to shoot content Brock stops you.
“Y/N! Are you coming out with us tonight?” He asks. You can see Quinn’s head pick up waiting for your response.
“Yeah, I can. I just need to film a couple of the post-game interviews and then I can leave,” you say excited for a drink.
When you all arrive at the usual bar you head straight up to the bar. You give a once-over of the crowd and how many people are there tonight. You go find the boys at their usual table. And you find Quinn’s eyes already staring at yours. 
“I think I’m going to go dance,” You tell Elias before turning around to head to the dance floor.
“Where’s she going,” Quinn asks Elias, watching your retreating figure.
“Going to dance. Are you going to replace me there too?” He jokes.
“Haha, very funny. I’ll be back in a bit,” Quinn says as he leaves to find you.
Of course, you’re in the middle of the crowd and once he finds you’re already making new friends. Quinn laughs to himself because you’re so sociable unlike him. 
“Are you ok if I join you,” Quinn says leaning in. You can only nod and note his proximity but brush it off due to the crowded area.
He dances close to you as music plays over the speakers. His energy and presence make you feel alive. He follows your moves as you’re face to face and you never want this night to end. However, at the end of the song, he notices your glass is empty and offers you another drink. You nod and follow him back to the bar.
“Aren’t you going to order something?” You ask after he only requests your drink. He shakes his head no and gets closer.
“I figured I’d be the designated driver to take you home tonight,” he says with his breath hitting your ear. The alcohol already going straight to your head makes the room spin and gives you confidence.
“Usually I only take guys home after the third date,” You joke, instantly regretting it. He laughs it off and says that you need more water instead of a drink. Even though you’re tipsy you remember that this crush is going to hurt you regardless of how he feels.
I want to make you drive all night just because I said maybe you should come over
I want to make you fall in love as hard as my poor parents' teenage daughter
At the end of the night, Quinn keeps his promise as he ushers you into his car. You’re giggling as he pulls you towards safety and you say goodnight to all of the team.
“Goodnight Pettyyyyy,” you slur and yell as you get further from him. He just waves and chuckles. 
“Get her home safe Huggy,” Elias shouts back drunkenly.
“Will do. See you tomorrow,” Quinn says finally getting you in the car.
“You know my dad used to drive my mom back from bars back in the day,” you say once he starts driving as you stare out the window.
“Oh yeah?” Quinn chuckles at your drunken state.
You feel so grateful that he decided to take you home. You hate taking Uber, especially after drinking. You take note that the bar is nowhere close to your apartment and his place is on the other side of town. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to do, but he did it without you even having to ask. Maybe your unrequited love isn’t so unrequited and you fall asleep in your bed hopeful for what the next day could contain.
She'll be the best you ever had if you let her
The next morning was rough to get out of bed, but get excited when memories of Quinn going out of his way to bring you home come back to you. You get ready and go to the coffee shop you always stop at with a pep in your step.
Once you get to the arena you go straight to the locker room as usual except you stop right outside of the door when you hear Elias and Quinn talking.
“So you and Y/N,” Elias said with a suggestive and teasing tone.
“Nothing happened between us. She’s sweet and all, but I’m not into her that way,” He says quickly. Your heart shattered and you turned around to leave before you could be caught.
You drop your things off at your desk and run to the restroom to let out a good cry. After a minute or two you compose yourself before going back to your desk and delivering the coffee like nothing happened.
You hand Quinn's coffee and he thanks you with his usual stupid smile like he didn’t say anything ten minutes ago. You give Elias his coffee and leave the locker room without saying a word. Little did you know, Elias followed you out and caught up to you in the hallway.
“You heard him didn’t you?” He asks you with sad eyes.
“Yeah, but it’s ok I knew this would happen. I’ll be ok. It’s just going to be awkward on the plane because we always sit together for roadies,” you say with a sigh.
“Sit with me,” Elias says simply and you just look at him perplexed. “I’ll just say I wanted my own movie night with you.” You nod and tell Elias you have to go for your meeting before you all leave.
I know it's for the better
Know it's for the better
Know it’s for the better
You walk into the plane after your meeting and you finalize some posts to be uploaded while you’re flying. You see Quinn watching you expectantly for you to take your unassigned seat next to him. However, You miss the surprised and sad gaze he has after you walk past him to sit with Elias.
Elias always sits near the back of the plane, and Quinn knows you hate sitting so far back. He hears you and Elias pick a movie to watch during the flight and he gets jealous. It’s small but Quinn always wanted to do that on flights with you, but you always were more interested in reading or sleeping. 
“Do you want to watch 27 Dresses? Isn’t that your favorite?” Quinn hears Elias ask you and Quinn scoffs. He knew even before you came over to watch a movie that 13 going on 30 was your favorite move. That’s why he watched it before he invited you over so he’d have good commentary for your movie night.
You grab Elias’ hand as the plane lifts and apologize and say it’s muscle memory. You always get nervous on planes but Quinn always calms you down. You and Elias have fun for the rest of the flight. Watching movies even though it was something you wanted to do with Quinn. But you know getting over your crush is for the better. You and Quinn wouldn’t have worked out anyway.
Know it's for the better
Know it’s for the better
Know it’s for the better
The next day you wake up in your hotel room after letting yourself sleep in a little bit. Even on road trips, you would make a point of getting Quinn’s coffee. But you decided now that you know he doesn’t feel the same, so you didn’t see the point in doing it anymore. You come down from your hotel room and see Quinn in the lobby. 
“Oh hey, I was just going to wait for you to come back from getting coffee for everyone,” Quinn says sheepishly.
“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to set an alarm and overslept. I can’t go today because I have to go meet the Blue’s social team before the game to go over rules for the game,” You say with little emotion.
“Oh ok, that makes sense. I guess I just see you at the arena,” Quinn says sadly.
“See you there!” You say with a smile leaving the lobby. This was the first time you felt like you could maybe get over Quinn Hughes.
Know it's for the better
Know it's for the better
Know it's for the better
The team returns from a successful road trip and you feel energized, which rarely happens after traveling for two weeks straight. You and Elias became good friends over the trip and now realize there is a lot more to your work than just Quinn.
After your meeting, you and Megan are talking about your plans as you settle back into Vancouver.
“You should let me set you up,” Megan blurts out, cutting off your list of chores.
“What? Who would it even be?” You’re intrigued where she’s going with this.
“My friend Evan just got out of a relationship a couple of months ago. I feel like you guys would really get along. Plus it could be good for-”
“You know what I’m in. Can you send me his number or something?” You decided you were ready to move on.
“Yes! I’ll send it right now. I'm so excited.”
You go to the ice to get ready for some practice content. Quinn is out first and gives you a weak smile. You feel a mixture of butterflies and your heart clenches. You missed Quinn. You haven’t had a full conversation with him since you all went out. Even though you’re trying to convince yourself to, you don’t know if you’ll be able to move on from Quinn Hughes.
Know it's for the better
Know it's for the better
Know it’s for the better
Your date with Evan is today and you’re excited. You feel giddy all day thinking about the prospect of dating again. Your boss lets you go home early because you’ve finished your content and are ahead of schedule. As you walk out to your car you see the team going back to the locker room from practice.
“Hey Y/N are you coming out with us tonight? It’s nothing crazy we just wanted to go out to celebrate the road trip,” Brock asks 
“I would love to, but I actually have a date tonight,” You say with a grin and blush on your face.
Know it's for the better
Know it's for the better
Know it’s for the better
There’s a couple of wolf whistles from the team when you tell them your plans. Quinn’s heart drops at the idea of you going out with someone else. He knew you guys hadn't talked a lot during the trip, but he just figured it was because you were busy with work or tired. He didn’t think it was because you started talking to someone.
He sulks as he gets ready to go home, and can’t stop thinking about who your date could be with and what you’re doing. He knows you look great no matter what you wear, but the idea of you dressing up for some other guy makes him uneasy. 
Quinn gets home and thinks about texting you, but what would he even say? “Good luck on your date hope you have fun” when he prays it goes badly so he has a shot again? He thinks about texting you to not go on the date, but knows it’s not his place and you might not feel the same way.
Instead he texts Elias if he wants to hang out. Elias comes over and immediately notices his sour mood. 
“What’s got you so down?”
“Nothing I guess I’m just in my head,” Quinn says.
“Is it about Y/N? I thought you said you don’t have feelings for her,” Elias says as a joke knowing Quinn would never admit it out loud.
“I didn’t think I did, but I’ve really missed her over the last couple of weeks and it made me think about her a lot. I just don’t know what to do,” Quinn says with his head in his hands. Elias is shocked at his revelation and doesn’t know what to say.
“I doubt the date is going to be that great. Tell her how you feel after,” Elias says and Quinn just nods his head. 
Know it's for the better
Know it's for the better
Know it’s for the better
You get ready for your date and get even more excited as it gets closer to your date. You know it might not go anywhere with Evan, but you’re just proud of yourself for trying to move on from Quinn.
You go to meet Evan at a restaurant downtown, and give him a hug when you see him. You quickly notice he’s the complete opposite of Quinn; he has brown eyes instead of Quinn’s blue eyes. Evan’s hair is light brown and barely has a wave vs Quinn’s dark brown curls. 
You quickly take note that Evan is more talkative and has a bigger personality than Quinn. He doesn’t seem to like silence and is always asking you more questions about yourself even as you try to look over the menu. Then you realize that if you truly want to get over Quinn, you’ve to stop comparing Evan to him.
That's when you guys hit it off. You realize he’s really funny and also understands your humor. You both have a lot in common too. You can’t stop smiling throughout the rest of the night. 
Know it’s for the better
Know it’s for the better
Know it’s for the better
After your dinner you both don’t want the date to be over just yet so you decide to take a walk down the street to continue your conversation. You have no idea how long you guys have been together, but haven’t gotten bored of each other for the night.
You stumble across an ice cream shop, and both note how much you love ice cream. And even though it’s freezing outside you both decide to get some to end the night. After you finish you both decide to call it a night and He walks you back to your car.
Know It’s for the better
Know It’s for the better
Know it’s for the better
“I hate to say it this way, but I didn’t think I could have this much fun on a date,” Evan says looking down at you.
“No me too, but I had an amazing time.”
“Do you want to go out again soon? I don’t know what your schedule looks like, but-” Evan rambles on and you decide to cut him off.
“I would love to. I’ll let you know when I’m free,” You say with a smile.
You get in the car and can wipe the grin off of your face as you drive home. You get ready for bed and almost want to text Elias, but know he’s with the team and didn’t want to interrupt their fun. 
Know it's for the better
I never grew up with you
And you’re not my waiting room
The next day you go into the office with your smile still wide. You see Megan in the parking lot and walk in together telling her about your date. 
“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too” Megan squeals and tells you she’s so excited for you. 
Little did you know that Quinn was nearby and heard everything. You spot him not thinking much about it and he gives you a small smile. You realize that your life will continue on after your crush on Quinn and you’re ok with that.
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genshin-obsessed · 1 year
Text
You Get Injured! | Honkai Star Rail
I finally finished! AND! I added Caelus! Kinda forgot he existed for a second lmao. I personally think the delivery for this took way too long but it's ok now! ^w^ I hope you like it! ✧ Includes: Caelus, Dan Heng, Welt, Sampo, Blade ✧ Extra: Angst ahead! The consistency is weird here cuz my writing always gets longer as I write. Meaning the first one I start with is short and the last one is ridiculously long. I did try to even it out a little, though. Also I was supposed to have banners for this but... I completely forgot about them
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➺ Caelus
Caelus had told you to wait before going anywhere dangerous because he wanted to join you. You two could protect one another. But you didn’t listen because he took slightly too long. Not that you were that impatient but you just wanted to get your task done, yanno? Caelus was also a super busy guy and the last thing you wanted was to give him more work. Your plan was to go in, do what you needed, and be done by the time he got here. Simple, right?
You were too far. Too far. Caelus’ heart was pounding out of his chest as his legs moved as fast as they could to get to you. He’d just heard what happened- you’d gotten attacked by some fragmentum monsters. All he knew was you were hurt badly. His mind was a mess with all sorts of awful scenarios. The worst one was seeing you dead. He could literally imagine your headstone and he hated it. Every second of it.
The second he saw you, he engulfed you in the tightest of hugs almost forgetting you were injured. You groaned which made him realize he was too rough. He apologized and was quick to get you medical help. There was so much blood- like everywhere. It was leaving a trail as he got you to the medics. It was horrifying and he’d never felt so scared before in his life.
He was next to you the entire time. Like day in, day out, he was beside you helping you heal. Your injuries were so bad, you were unable to do anything for the first two weeks. Caelus helped you with everything. You kept apologizing, but he wouldn’t have any of it. He just insisted that you need to focus on getting better and he was right here beside you, where he belonged.
Honestly, after the whole thing, Caelus was a lot more aware and attentive. Not that he wasn’t before, but now he was super careful. That day was one of the hardest and seeing you like that? That was a day he never forgot and never wanted to re-encounter. So, whenever you wanna go somewhere, he always wants to join (especially if it’s dangerous).
➺ Dan Heng
Dan Heng has never, ever doubted you or your abilities to fight. Anywhere you’d go, he’d simply join out of the intent to be good company. He would miss you. But he never doubted you… and he never thought you could get hurt out there. You were always so strong and unbeatable.
When he heard the news, he felt his heart drop. His entire body froze and he didn’t exactly understand what he was being told. You were injured? Badly? What happened? Who did it? Weren’t you just going to a friend’s place? How could this happen?
When Dan Heng saw you- your figure which was covered in blood, your teary eyes, your limp- he raced to hold you tightly in his arms. How could he let this happen? How could he allow you to get hurt like this when he had the ability to protect you? He didn’t do his part as a good boyfriend. The entire time, he did his best not to break down, knowing it was more important to take care of you than cry.
Through the entire healing process, Dan Heng was glued to your side. He was at your beck and call- anything you needed, he got for you. There was a period where he was super nervous about having others around, but quickly came to the decision that it was unhealthy and he needed to step back. You were still happy to have him around.
The aftermath with everything was expected. Every time you left on your own, Dan Heng just had a wave of panic and uncertainty. He always had that thought in the back of his mind of you not making it back to him. He tried not to let it get to him, but he couldn’t help it. You got hurt before, so why not this time? You make sure to call to let Dan Heng know everything is ok when you arrive at your destination and sometimes, you just take him with! After all, he is your boyfriend and you adore his company.
➺ Welt
You and Welt made a good team, having fought a lot together. So, if you went off on your own or with another team, he didn’t really need to worry. He knew your capabilities and didn’t underestimate you at any point. Though, he hadn’t stopped to think… maybe you weren’t invincible.
Himeko was the first to tell him and the way she looked when she brought it up is what initially scared him. Himeko had run all the way to him, her eyes were wide with worry, and she was breathing heavily. She only said, “(y/n) got attacked.” Welt could feel his heart sinking into his stomach as the numerous bad scenarios came to his mind. Most of them included a dead you.
Welt couldn’t rest- he had to see you and right this second. Himeko wasted no time and quickly took him to see you. You were already at the hospital but when he saw you… he pretty much broke down. Himeko had never seen him like that and bargained with the doctors to let him see you just for a minute. They agreed and let him in. You weren’t awake which sent another wave of terror through him. What if you never woke up? His fears were settled when you did eventually wake up, but you were in bad shape.
Your recovery was taken extremely seriously by Welt. He made sure you ate meals at proper times, you were drinking enough fluids, and he even made sure you took the time to get up and walk around for a few minutes every now and then. He was pretty much your personal nurse and he happily took on the job. He wasn’t upset, he made time, and he took really good care of you.
Honestly, afterward, Welt had a few nightmares. When he saw you, you weren’t awake. There were nights where he walked to you in that hospital bed and you just flatlined. It became a deep-rooted fear for him. You didn’t realize how bad it was until there was a day where you forgot to call him when you left and he just panicked, acting nothing like his usual composed self. He apologized for losing his composure but you appreciated seeing what you did because now you knew how worried he got. He’s definitely an overprotective boyfriend now.
➺ Sampo
Sampo didn’t take things too seriously a lot of the time. He wasn’t neglectful or anything, but he was just a goofy guy. Due to his laid-back attitude, Sampo didn’t worry when you said you were going to visit Rivet Town to help Hook with something. He didn’t necessarily take into account how dangerous it was and just happily kissed you goodbye and told you to be safe. I mean… you tried.
Of course, he was busy doing what he did best when he saw Hook… running to him with tears in her eyes. The entire event that morning came rushing back and he just knew. Hook barely had to say anything and Sampo was demanding she take him to you. Hook took Sampo to Natasha’s clinic, which is where you’d made it to before collapsing. The entire time, he was blaming himself. He should’ve offered to go with you, he should’ve asked more- he should've been there.
He tried to hug you but you were unconscious on the bed, so all he could do was just wait until you woke up. He refused to let go of your hand- no matter what anyone said- he stood his ground. Eventually, they just relented and let him stay. You woke up only a few hours later, absolutely exhausted and clearly recovering.
Sampo was your personal nurse but he wasn’t the best at it. Sometimes he’d mess up, drop things, make it harder for you but… it always made you laugh. You could see that Sampo was very upset with himself and this was his desperate way to make up for it, even though he knew there was no way to do that. But you happily accepted it. You could see how much he loved you just from that.
The aftermath was… a bit to get used to. Sampo never let you go into danger zones alone. No matter what. However, you were never one to disagree. What was odd was his seriousness. A lot of Sampo’s laid-back-ness kinda went away after what happened. Of course, it wasn’t permanent but it was a bit upsetting. You could see the toll your accident had taken on him. He worried- a lot. He even admitted he’ll get flashes of that day and he wonders where he would have been had you not woken up. You just give him a big tight hug to let him know you weren’t going anywhere.
➺ Blade
Blade was always overprotective, he knew you were squishy. Meaning, you’re mortal. If someone poked you hard enough, you’d die. He didn’t want that to happen, so he was always making sure you were ok. He kept an eye on you, stuck around you, and just had your back all the time. There was one day- ONE- where he failed. And that was the day he paid the price.
When he heard, he felt nothing but pure rage for whatever hurt you. The second emotion he felt was pure disappointment in himself. He let that happen. HE did, no one else. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt if he wasn’t busy and had made time for you. He did every other day so why not this one? When he saw you, he didn’t have much of a physical reaction other than wide eyes and engulfing you in a hug. But deep inside, he hated himself for a bit because this was his fault.
Blade refused to leave your side and if anyone even dared to suggest he did, he brought down every last bit of that rage on them. He stuck by you the entire time you were under medical observation. Once you were able to go home, he did everything for you. If you dared to lift a finger to do anything, he just sent his signature glare your way. You would giggle sheepishly and just lay back down.
There was a change in his personality at home. He was much softer. He was always asking if you were ok, he would do anything, and he was super affectionate. He would hold you all the time, give you quick kisses, and just let you know he loved you. All the time. It was an unusual change but not one you hated. You loved Blade and him giving you all sorts of affection was great! A bit weird, but great!
The aftermath was expected: Blade basically became your personal bodyguard. He wasn’t very affectionate in public, but at home, that new side remained. It was as if there was a switch that had been flipped. Eventually, you finally asked him when he literally tickled you one night. He said, “I thought you were gonna die. And I realized… I didn’t get to show you just how much I love you.” That was all he was willing to say on it. You were so happy to hear that. It was nice to see how soft Blade could be with you when no one was looking.
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hannieehaee · 5 months
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omg first of all i want to say that i love your writing, you’re amazing 😫
secondly, i saw that you opened your request for 1k followers, so i was wondering if you could do and angst-to-fluff reaction including hip hop unit? the specific one i had in my mind was about finding out that you’re pregnant and some initial anger/shock/disbelief coming from the boys, but i totally understand if you won’t do it, because i know not everyone may be comfortable with this topic. if so, feel free to ignore it or do whatever else you want 🫶🏼
lots of love, anon 🥰
finding out you're pregnant - hhu
hhu, vu, pu
content: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of marriage, established relationship, initial negative reactions, fluffy outcome for all of them.
wc: 635
a/n: thank u so much for ur kind words anon T-T and tysm for requesting!! sorry i took so long ;-; it was a lil hard for me to gauge a negative reaction out of them tbh i like to assume theyd be supportive straight away but i hope u liked what i came up with anyway <3
masterlist
seungcheol -
he had always wanted to be a dad. it was one of his biggest dreams ever since he could remember. the moment he met you, he was sure he wanted to be the father of your children, often even daydreaming about it whenever he'd see you play family with him and kkuma. he was unsure as to why his first reaction upon you skeptically telling him you might be pregnant was to ice you out. he felt like a total asshole, not knowing how else to react to such life-changing news. he knew it was just the initial shock of it. he did want kids. he was ecstatic. he was just too shocked to react properly, hurting your feelings in the process.
it would take him a lot of apologizing to get you to forgive him for bis stupidity, having grown terrified that he mightve been mad at the news. he'd reassure you that he was happier than ever, almost crying at the thought of a daughter to raise with the love of his life. would eternally feel guilty he had made you doubt how much he'd love a family with you even for a second.
wonwoo -
this was all he had ever wanted ever since the two of you got together. he had immediately envisioned a family with you, a house, a long future together. he would've unfortunately reacted a bit too shocked at the news when you had first broke them to him. it was just .. you hadn't planned it. yes, he wanted it, but he didn't think it'd come this soon in your relationship. he would be initially too shocked to show any genuine happiness at it. in no way would he express disappointment or any negative feeling, but his lack of enthusiasm would have you rethinking things.
it wouldn't be until later in the day when he'd snap at himself, realizing how good these news were. would uncharacteristically begin getting emotional from how happy he was at the prospect of starting a family with you, apologizing for not showing his true emotions to you immediately after hearing the news.
mingyu -
he'd enter a state of shock, which was very out of character for the usually excitable man. his immediate lack of reaction would have you retracting, feeling like you'd somehow done something wrong. he'd immediately feel terrible about it, lightheartedly reassuring you that he was happy about it and that he'd support you no matter what.
i feel like he'd be the type to ponder over it for a few days, probably even coming to the conclusion of proposing to you if he knew you decided to have the baby. at that point he'd be happier than ever to know he was now starting a family with you.
vernon -
he was still so young. yeah, he wanted to be a dad, specially to your children, but he was at the height of his career, meaning that the time he was home was already limited as it was. he had always assumed he'd get to have a few years off after being an idol for as long as he was, allowing him to lock himself away and start a family with you. this was not how he planned it, something he had stupidly let you know when you told him the news, completely forgetting to tell you how incredibly happy the news of starting a family with you made him.
he'd feel devastated at the dejection in your demeanor after his stupid reaction, immediately backtracking and telling you how happy he was, how badly he wanted to start a family with you. there would be a lot of hurdles considering his life, but he would be willing to go through all of them if it meant building a family with you.
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