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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

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MC’s half Demon, and they look AWFULLY familiar...

‘Kay guys, I got a different kind of stupid Headcanon to throw at you. Get ready!

Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Part 2.5 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

*ahem* picture if you will, it’s the day the exchange program is set to start. The student council (nix Mr. Kill All Humans, Weeb-supreme, and our Scummy Sweetheart) have assembled to welcome the new human student. All is going according to schedule, the portal opens up at eight am sharp, they hear the pitiful screams of the selected human who was not given a heads up about the whole thing, and the poor little human falls straight onto the marble floor.

There’s something a tad... off about this human don’t you think? After they’ve peeled their sorry ass off the floor they observed the assembled student council with an air of sophistication and self importance that no one expected. Their posture was perfect, their eyes sharp and calculating... they bared a striking resemblance to-

“Lucifer,” Diavolo looked to his right hand man, then back to the human. “The human kind of looks like you!”

And out popped four pitch black wings from the human’s back and two small horns out of the sides of their head, one horn was a bit bigger than the other. They even still had some of their down feathers! How cute!

((Content warning: Swearing (I have a potty mouth, forgive me), but that’s it.))

Luci-dad

So, the MC is Lucifer’s kid! Of course Mr. Prideypants immediately tries to recall exactly what little romp in the human world uh... spawned this half-human half-demon child of his. Good thing MC’s got the other parent on speed-dial.

“Please note, MC,” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose upon hearing Asmo take even more pictures of his newly discovered hellspawn. “I was not aware of your existence, if I was I’d-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset.”

Lucifer blinked a few times in surprise. “P...pardon? You aren’t upset?”

“No, my parent told me that my father was a high ranking demon, and they bare no ill will against you. Though, I am looking forward to this whole... exchange program thing.”

Oh wow, that was easier than Lucifer thought. Damn. Well, he was a father... (let’s be real, he’s been parenting his brothers for thousands of years, and a good chunk of you sinners call him daddy)

MC is probably the most protected student at RAD, despite the fact that they have no visible security detail whatsoever. They didn’t want to be seen as... weak and pathetic.

Something about this human just... set the lesser demons on edge. Any talk of eating them was stamped out on the first day when they walked by. It’s like Lucifer himself was staring at them, daring the demons to try and bother the human. MC’s powerful presence kept them protected and feared.

...at least until dear uncle Asmo decided to do their hair one morning. All those ribbons may have looked adorable but they kind of ruined the intimidation factor.

MC loved to mess with the other students, keeping their lineage a secret for the first little while just made it so much funnier when the other demons tried to scramble out of MC’s way without looking like they were running from the ‘weak little human exchange student’.

Oh wow, what a sadist. Like father like child

Flying lessons are a must. Poor MC isn’t terribly good at controlling their wings, and their horns are still growing in so when they pop into their demon form the first thing they get is a sore skull. Ow... it sucks that Lucifer isn’t outwardly very sympathetic.

“Ow!” MC crashed face first into the grass in the backyard of the House of Lamentation. “Father! My wings are cramping! Can’t we practice this tomorrow?”

The sight of seeing his dear child crash face first into the ground had lost its hilarity after the first three times. Lucifer slowly lowered himself to the ground and crossed his arms as he stood over his incredibly grass-stained kid.

“MC, we’ve been ‘practicing this tomorrow’ for the past month. If you want to learn to fly you’re going to have to actually manage to stay in the air for more than three minutes.”

MC shot Lucifer a withering glare that only preteens were capable of, Lucifer matched it with his own much more sophisticated glare.

“You’ve been flying for over a thousand years! Don’t you have any tips that can actually help other than ‘don’t panic, you’ll look ridiculous’?”

Lucifer dragged a gloved hand down his face and looked around, the two were alone as far as he could see.

“MC,” Lucifer began. “When I was a young angel, I needed to learn how to fly with someone else.”

MC perked up. “Who?”

“Michael. The smug bastard picked up flying quicker than I did.”

“What’d you do?!”

Lucifer smiled at his child’s intense investment. “I practiced flying every day for five extra hours until I could do everything that Michael could do, just better.”

MC’s starry eyed interest died almost instantly upon hearing about the extra five hours of practice. “Humph, I bet I could outfly younger you and Michael with only two hours of practice a day.”

“Really now?”

“Yes! Watch!” MC shook off their wings and took off in a running start before shakily making it into the air. Their form was decent enough, and they weren’t shaking as much as the previous attempts. “SEE?!”

“Yes MC,” Lucifer smiled. “I can see.”

You know what else Lucifer could see? MC crashing right into a tree.

“Ouch...”

Okay... maybe they could halt practice a little early and order a treat from Madame Scream’s. A little sugar to refuel is needed when the end goal is crushing a mutual rival beneath their heels. Just some good old fashioned father/child bonding time!

MC has a smaller seat right next to Lucifer’s seat in the Assembly Hall. I will not compromise on this one.

For all your fluff needs, I give you: Lucifer teaching MC how to play the piano. He has a proud little smile on his face when his kid finally starts getting it. That’s all. Enjoy the image.

That one Uncle who gives you Alcohol at Family Gatherings (Mammon)

Yeah, when Mammon burst in late to the party and whining about everyone’s spamming him with texts to haul his scummy ass to the Assembly Hall, the last thing he expected was to see a mini-Lucifer.

“What the fuck am I lookin’ at?!”

The glare the two Lucifers gave the poor Avatar of Greed was enough to make him want to turn tail (uh, wing) and book it down the hall.

“Mammon, this is MC. They’re my child.”

“Hello.”

“...whaaaa..?” Mammon looked between the two, same glare, same intimidating aura, same annoyingly good posture.

Mammon scratched the back of his neck and looked over at his older brother. “Do I uh... still gotta babysit em’ if they’re not human?”

“The lake of Cocytus will melt the day I let you babysit without supervision.” Lucifer grumbled.

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

Despite Lucifer’s initial denial, Mammon and MC ended up spending a lot of time hanging out when Lucifer was busy with paperwork. Of course Mammon’s first thought was ‘how do I profit off this situation?’

MC is now Mammon’s designated babysitter after they caught him picking up their feathers that had fallen off with the intention of painting them white and claiming they were Lucifer’s from back in the Celestial Realm.

Mammon does end up spoiling MC a little. Just a smidge. They’re the kid of his totally not his favourite brother after all! How could he not? Whether or not these gifts are obtained legally or are legal at all is subject to scrutiny.

“Mammon, I can’t drink this!” MC placed the bottle of Demonus back on the counter of the kitchen.

“Why not? That’s a bottle of the good stuff! We gotta celebrate you gettin’ an A on that test somehow!”

“I’m underage! Incredibly underage. I’m not legally allowed to drink.”

Mammon wordlessly plopped a silly straw into the bottle. “...does that help?”

“No.” MC then inclined their head to the bottle. “And I don’t want to get hung from the ceiling, that bottle was in my father’s study yesterday, I’m above theft.”

“How old are you s’posed to be anyway? Never mind... uh...” Mammon wracked his brain for something else he could do for MC that didn’t cost anything (don’t judge him, the poor bastard was flat broke!). “I could... teach you to drive!”

“Driving?”

“Yeah! Drivin’ is awesome! We can take my car!”

The bills for the damages done to the car and the Devildom were mailed to Lucifer the next day, and MC and Mammon got to keep each other company as they hung from the ceiling. Ah well! At least MC wasn’t upside down!

Mammon wasn’t that good of a flight teacher either, he also crashed into a tree (the same tree MC crashed into, actually) when he was cheering for MC. They were finally able to do a loopdy loop! He was proud and distracted! Okay?! Lucifer! Stop smirkin’ at him! It’s not that funny!

At least the vantage point from the tree was decent and the branches didn’t scratch him up too badly. Oh hey... that person walking by was wearing a very nice watch... he’d be right back-

That Uncle That is Always Absent From Family Gatherings and When He is Present He Leaves Early (Levi)

He missed everything. That is not an exaggeration. He was in the middle of an online raid battle and couldn’t look at his phone! No Lucifer he can’t pause an online game! That’s not how it works!

Okay, the human exchange student is half demon? WOAH! THAT’S JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME- W A I T. THE LITTLE NORMIE IS LUCIFER’S KID?!

Okie doke, he was fully convinced that MC just had to be an anime protagonist.

They binged every series that Levi compared them to. Sure MC might have missed a few assignments because of late night anime binges, but they were too good for this school crap anyway, right?

Nope. Lucifer put a ban on the two watching anime until both their grades improved. Surviving that hell brought the two together.

“Ugh!”

The sound of a pencil case being haphazardly thrown across the room made Levi peek out of his bed-tub. If his figurines got knocked over so HELP HIM-

“This is stupid!!I shouldn’t have to catch up with this!” MC crossed their arms and gave their Demonology textbook their best disapproving glare.

Lucifer Lite (tm) was having a hell of a time trying to claw through their missed work, and Levi sympathized, he really did, it’s just... he was playing Animal Crossing-

Levi paused the game to placate his anime-buddy when their wings popped out and he feared for his rare merch’s safety.

“H-hey, MC? Do you need help?” Levi’s offer was met with a bone chilling glare that lived rent free in his nightmares ever since. He had pulled a Mammon and forgotten he was talking to Lucifer’s child. Lucifer’s allergy to help must have passed down to MC.

“No! I don’t! It’s just... dumb!” MC hissed, she turned and looked over at the fish tank. “Right Henry 2.0?”

Henry 2.0 did not respond.

“MC, you need to finish your homework or we can’t watch anything together,” Levi sighed, he had finished his work over an hour earlier. He had mastered the art of all night anime binges and managing to do most of his work in the fifteen minutes between the time he woke up and the time school was supposed to begin. “We haven’t even binged all of volume 4 of TSL yet!”

“Mmm...” MC grumbled. “Fine...”

MC picked up their pencil case and began continued their work. Levi breathed a sigh of relief and went back to Animal Crossing.

The tiny normie did in fact finish their work, only after they caved and asked Levi for help. Swore him to secrecy, they did... very intimidating, they were.

Just saying, he most definitely sent that one Keanu Reeves meme with big Keanu and little Keanu but with Lucifer and MC to the wrong group chat. Poor bastard.

Flying lessons? No. Levi hadn’t flown since his time in the Celestial Realm, he had no advice to give other than: “Flap your wings!”

“THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING YOU-”

MC didn’t get to finish that thought, they lost their balance and fell right into RAD’s fountain. Ah well, Levi had a head start on running for his life that he squandered by laughing at MC. RIP.

The Uncle/brother/whatever the fuck that Starts a Fight With Your Dad at the Family Reunion. (Satan)

Oh... another Lucifer? Eugh. Gross.

Satan gave the kid a wide berth when they first met. Everything the kid said or did ticked him off. “Tsk. Look at MC. Making an omelette. So annoying.” “Oh wow, MC vacuumed? Roll out the red carpet, we need to celebrate their existence!” “Look at them. Breathing. Disgusting.”

MC’s pride wouldn’t ever let them admit it but... they knew Satan didn’t like them, and it hurt their feelings.

“Shhhh,” Satan whispered into his backpack.

“Meow.” The backpack replied.

“I said shhhhh.”

The backpack did not reply after that, which was a good thing considering the little princet of the HOL was nearby.

“Satan?” They asked. “Who are you talking to?”

Satan coldly brushed past them as he made his way to his room. “No one you need to concern yourself with.”

When the little calico kitten was safe in his room, Satan quickly realized a mistake in his foolproof ‘sneak a cat into the house’ plan. He didn’t have any toys for the kitten, and he didn’t want his books getting scratched...

It was alright, he’d just rush out to the a store that sold cat things and rush back! Five minute trip tops!

Well when Satan got back the cat was no longer in the room. Oh dear. He discreetly tore apart the house looking for the poor little thing until he ended up finding it in the library, happily chasing around a loose feather being held up by MC.

“Oh, hello Satan.” MC chirped as the kitten batted it’s adorable little paws at the feather.

“My... my door was closed. Did you let the cat out?”

MC shrugged. “I heard meowing.”

Satan ran a hand through his hair and grumbled. Stupid smaller Lucifer. Stupid original Lucifer. Everyone sucked.

“Let me guess, you’re going to run to Lucifer and tell him all about the meowing and the rule breaking.”

MC shook their head and glared at Satan. “Of course not. I’ve already gotten way too attached to this little guy anyway. We’re co-parenting this kitten like mature adults.”

With some coaxing, Satan did sit down and play with the kitten, maybe MC wasn’t... so terrible.

The two watch Unsolved Mysteries together, that’s their show. “This guy did it.” “Satan, we’re two minutes into the episode-” “Trust me.”

Thirty minutes later.

“He did it.” “See MC, what’d I tell you?”

Lucifer did find out about the cat, but with enough pleading, MC and Satan managed to warm up the cold spot in Lucifer’s chest where his heart should have been. The cat’s name is Detective Toe Beans (or just Bean).

Satan can’t fly, he has a tail, but he did read up on wing anatomy and how flight actually works in demons, his advice would be good in theory, but it’s full of so much technical jargon that MC can’t understand it.

At least MC didn’t crash into something, they barrel rolled through one of the HOL’s windows. Good thing it was the window to their room. The broken arm still hurt like hell.

The Best Dressed Bitch Who Brings The Booze to The Reunion. (Asmo)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Lucifer’s kid was SO CUTE! A thousand pictures commemorating that adorable moment needed to be taken! Wait- Lucifer- GIVE BACK THE PHONE-

Asmo, surprise surprise, absolutely adores little MC! So cute! So small! He was just so excited to announce to all his Devilgram followers that Lucifer was finally a certified DILF.

That post disappeared five minutes after it was made but the damage had already been done.

Asmo made sure MC looked their best at all times, if they needed help talking to anyone? Asmo’s got their back!

Sure, maybe he’s a little pushy, but pushy’s a good thing sometimes, right?

“Asmodeus-”

“No, these shoes wouldn’t fit you...”

“Asmo-”

“No, not these ones either...”

“ASMODEUS.”

Asmo squeaked and jumped upwards, Geez Louise... little MC’s voice could sure be scary when they wanted it to be...

“I don’t need any fancy new shoes.” MC huffed, sitting up straighter in one of the chairs in Asmo’s room. “I thought this was supposed to be a sleepover.”

“Hmmm...” Asmo pouted. “Makeovers are an essential part of sleepovers... what’d you do with your human friends up in the human world that could possibly be better than a make-over?!”

MC began to list things off. “Ordered junk food, talked about people we hated, watched movies,”

“Greasy food is so bad for your skin...” Asmo cringed and shook his head violently. “But I’m totally down to watch a movie and bitch about people I hate!”

“Ah yes, human sleepovers, a tradition I never quite had the chance to enjoy.” Solomon said from Asmo’s bed. “Who are we bitching about?”

“Remind me what Solomon is doing here.” MC muttered as they sat down in front of Asmo’s TV.

“Because, I wanted to hang out with my two favourite humans.” Asmo cooed, reaching over and trying to pinch MC’s cheek, which they awkwardly dodged.

“Can we watch The Exorcist?” Solomon asked, propping his head up with his hands.

“Ew, no.” Asmo made a face at him. “That scene with the vomit? Hell NO.”

“Mm.” MC mumbled. Asmo turned to look at them.

“MC? Are you doing okay? You don’t look like you’re having any fun...”

“I’m fine.” MC grumbled.

Asmo pursed his lips, as much as it made his little narcissistic heart break, he nudged MC. “Why don’t you pick the movie, sweetie. I’m sure Solomon and I will like anything you pick!”

MC noticeably brightened. “Let’s watch Scream!”

The strangled noise that came from Asmo was... concerning, but to his credit, The Avatar of Lust held his tongue about his distaste for the movie, and the three slumber-party goers had quite the lovely time.

After the movie ended, MC went back to their room, sure it was a sleepover but their bed was right down the hall.

Good for Asmo and Solomon. Horny fuckers. We stan.

Asmo just claps and tries to cheer MC on when it comes to their flying lessons. (The idea that Asmo came up with to wear his cheerleader costume from the previous Halloween was immediately shot down by Lucifer)

“You’re doing wonderful, MC- WATCH OUT FOR THE POWER LINE!”

MC didn’t hit the power line, but Asmo’s scream of terror caused them to fall butt-first into a dumpster. Their injured tailbone served as a tragic memory of the incident.

Oh well, good thing Asmo had nice smelling soap to give that could mask dumpster-stink.

The Uncle that eats everything and tells you to eat your veggies while you angrily pick at your broccoli at the kid’s table. (Beel)

Lucifer... has a kid?! Beel choked on the cheetos he had snuck into the Assembly Hall when the kid’s wings popped out.

Oh wow, that’s nice :) maybe they can eat together. Belphie would probably like them.

Wait what is the gender neutral term for Niece or Nephew?

...Nibling? Uh... let’s not say that around Beel. We don’t need him to get hungrier and begin associating MC with nibbling on things.

The Underground Tomb incident probably went a little differently, but after all that nonsense, the two are closer than two peas in a pod!

Mmm... peas...

“Beel?” MC stepped into the Avatar of Gluttony’s room.

“Hi MC.” Beel was doing push-ups in the middle of the room, on the ground right beneath his head was a massive bowl of spaghetti that he bit into every time he completed a push-up. “Can you come stand on my back? I need the extra weight.”

“On your back?” MC padded closer. “Are you sure? It’s not going to hurt?”

“No, it’ll be okay.” Beel assured them. “Belphie and I did this all the time. Except Belphie is normally asleep.”

MC tentatively stepped onto Beel’s back. It was a balancing act to say the least, they eventually gave up on standing and ended up sitting cross legged between Beel’s shoulder blades.

“You did this with Belphegor?” MC asked.

“Yeah,” Beel sighed. “He was always too tired to exercise, but he’d let me bench press him sometimes...”

MC frowned and hugged their knees to their chest. Knowing full well that Beel’s twin wasn’t in the human world like Lucifer said was absolutely ripping them apart from the inside. Guilt felt just as rotten as their pride did when they were being belittled...

“Maybe you’ll see him again sometime soon.” MC whispered. “Maybe my father’ll come to his senses and let him come back down to the Devildom.”

Beel paused his push-ups for a brief moment, then nodded and went back to his eating exercising combo. “I hope so. He’ll like you, MC. I’m sure of it.”

MC nodded. “I... hope so.”

Beel’s a pretty decent flight teacher, but his wings are just so different from MC’s that it renders any tips he had next to useless.

“MC, maybe your wings aren’t flapping fast enough.”

“Beel, I appreciate the thought, but I’m not a hummingbird. Or a fly. I don’t need to flap my wings a million times a minute to stay afloat.”

Ah well, MC tried to take some of Beel’s advice, but their lower right wing cramped up and they ended up flying in circles until Beel was able to catch them. Ah well, better than the dumpster incident the previous week.

The Uncle That Passes Out in The Basement and You’re Not Allowed to Wake Him Up Even Though All Your Toys and Video Games Are Down There. He Also Picks a Fight With Your Dad’s New S/O Before He Passes Out. (Belphie)

Sitting in the attic was quite a drag, and this supposedly weak little human was quite the annoyance to try and call out to. It took a lot longer than expected, but when he heard little footsteps coming towards his prison, Belphegor nearly jumped with joy.

Oh... it... looked like Lucifer. Smelled like Lucifer. Stood like Lucifer. Quacked like Lucifer. Or... trilled..? Whatever sound a peacock made, this brat sounded an awful lot like Lucifer.

A... half-demon. Hmph. Belphie honestly thought Lucifer had actual standards. Not anymore, he guessed.

(Man I could fill a whole-ass fic with the Belphie betrayal thing, but for now let’s skip to post attic nonsense)

Okay so maybe MC wasn’t disgusting. They made a good nap buddy. It was cute when their wings came out when they were sleeping sometimes. Well... it was cute when they didn’t hit him in the face and make him wake up with his mouth full of feathers.

What Beel said had been true, Belphie made a good substitute when weights weren’t available, but Beel didn’t want MC to feel left out, so Belphie and MC ended up sitting on his back while he did push ups. MC once got bored and started playing Go Fish with Belphie on Beel’s back while he exercised.

Yes. MC is still a member of the Formerly-Anti-Lucifer League.

“Are you sure he’s not going to be too mad at us?” MC asked for the dozenth time that day. Detective Toe Beans was wrapped around their neck like a scarf (he had gotten so big!!!) while MC nervously sat in one of the Library chairs.

“Positive.” Belphie said with a toothy grin. “Besides, he’s like putty when it comes to you. Just give him your best puppy eyes and we’re not guilty on all charges.”

Putty..? Really..? Lucifer..? How strict was he before MC got there... they wondered.

“Sh! He’s coming!” Satan stuck his nose into a random book, it was the Oxford English Dictionary... and it was upside down.

Belphie pretended to pass out and MC decided that the best course of action was to stare deeply into their cat’s eyes. Yeah... that looked casual and not weird.

“Satan, MC, Belphie.” Lucifer nodded to the three of them as he walked towards the entrance to his study.

“Lucifer.”

“Afternoon, father.”

Belphie let out a cartoonishly loud fake snore that nearly caused both MC and Satan to break cover and start laughing.

Side note, Bean had adorable widdle eyes! That cute little face was just to die for-

“You three..!”

Belphie, Satan, and MC peeked their heads into Lucifer’s study, their handiwork was perfect. Everything was covered in red post it notes. Perfectly not harmful, but SO inconvenient!

“You’re all cleaning this up or so help me-”

“GO!” Belphie and Satan each grabbed one of MC’s arms (Satan also grabbed Bean) and sprinted out of the House of Lamentation. Maybe they’d move back there in twenty years... they hoped that Solomon and The Angels would let them crash at Purgatory Hall...

Belphie had used up his physical energy supply for the next four years. He passed out the moment they stepped into sanctuary. Time for a nap...

Flight practice? Ha. Belphie’s napping. Though, he was suspiciously awake and filming whenever MC did something stupid.

“Try not to suck so bad.”

“GO TO HELL BELPHIE!”

“I’m already there. Hell is every second I’m stuck here watching you fail.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO GET IT FOR THAT!”

Well... MC mastered the dive bomb that day. Lucifer bought them a cake.

Bonus! Your Dad’s New Husband! That Has Managed to Somehow Make Everyone Hate Him Despite the Fact That He’s A Cinnamon Roll. (Diavolo)

A mini Lucifer? A mini Lucifer!

Diavolo dotes on MC like he’d dote on his own kid. MC wants a crown? They’re getting a crown! A damn nice one too! MC wants a title? Here! MC is now... idk Ruler of the area between Majolish and Hell’s Kitchen.

Poor Uncle Mammon’s got some financial insecurity, he’s still the cool uncle... right?!

He is very much that ‘how do you do fellow kids?’ Meme.

He tries to do stereotypical ‘dad’ things but he’s not very good at them. Once he tried to host a barbecue...

Barbatos saved the day, but Mammon’s hair was still singed, Solomon’s cooking still gave Beel food poisoning (SOLOMON EATS TOXIC WASTE I SWEAR-), Luke still got hit in the face with a frisbee, and Simeon got an unhealthy dose of DAD NERVES and got so stressed everyone was almost blinded by the holy light he suddenly started blasting. We do not mention the water guns.

(Seriously whose bright idea was it to give Belphie and Satan water guns while they were in Lucifer’s presence?)

Praise Barbie. He’s too good for them.

“Um...” MC awkwardly held up the baseball, trying to look at it from all angles like it was a completely alien object. “Lord Diavolo... are you sure you want to play catch?”

Diavolo clapped his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet. “Yes! It’s a thing human fathers do with their children, correct? We must make up for lost time between you and Lucifer, right?”

Lucifer massaged his temples and nodded. “If you two would like to play catch...” Lucifer grimaced. “I will too.”

“Okay! MC, throw the ball to Lucifer!” Diavolo instructed.

Lucifer half heartedly held up his baseball glove as MC tossed him the ball. He caught it, and looked over at Diavolo, who was applauding like he just witnessed the greatest feat in sports history.

“Okay! Throw it to me!” Diavolo waved his glove in the air, Lucifer rolled his eyes and smiled. He threw the ball at Diavolo with... a lot of force. Enough force to probably dent steel... Diavolo caught it like it was nothing.

MC suddenly feared for their safety.

“Okay MC, catch!”

Diavolo threw the ball with enough force to break the god damn sound barrier. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the ball sailed way over MC’s head and crashed right through a window.

“Oh my...” Diavolo put a hand on his hip and surveyed the damage to the window. “This isn’t so bad, I believe in human world TV shows this happens quite often. Look! The glass broke in a perfect circle!”

“Yay... property damage...” MC murmured.

Lucifer sighed and pulled out his DDD. “I’ll phone someone to replace the win-”

“Lucifer no! Now according to human world customs we must,” Diavolo took a deep breath, rushed forward, grabbed both Lucifer and MC’s hands and started sprinting away from the Demon Lord’s Castle. “RUN FOR IT!”

“Di- Diavolo!” Lucifer gasped.

“Who are we running from?! That’s your castle!” MC squeaked.

“I don’t know! Just run! That’s what the human TV show says to do!”

Weirdly enough, Diavolo was the best flight instructor. MC’s ability to fly increased tenfold after Diavolo found out that MC was learning to fly.

“You’re doing amazing MC! That was a perfect turn!”

“Thanks Lord Diavolo, I’m surprised I haven’t crashed into anyone or fallen yet!”

“Well, I highly doubt you’ll be crashing into anyone anymore, your flying is practically perfect now!”

Mammon proceeded to fly past them holding what looked like Lucifer’s wallet.

“M-mammon?!”

“Oh... I wonder what he’s doing. Look, MC! It’s Lucifer! Hello Lucifer dea-”

Lucifer ended up colliding with the two of them and sending them all crashing to the floor.

That was the last time MC fell during flying practice.

(We currently have a Go Fund Me set up for Mammon to get the funds necessary to flee the Devildom after that incident. Please donate to save- oh shit hi Lucifer-)

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miss-tc-nova · 3 years

Text

The Thing - Thancred Waters x WoL

It’s not perfect, but it’s a cute little series of moments I had fun writing.

Also major spoilers for the series, including Endwalker

Music Inspiration: 1, 2, 3, 4 by Plain White T’s

~~~~~

Sighing, I flop to the floor, leaning against the wall. Exhaustion having eaten away all motivation, I can feel the realm of sleep gnawing at the edges of my consciousness.

“You realize that this is not your private quarters?”

Prying my eyes open, I peer up at my recent partner—the man who nearly let me get burnt alive by a primal. Despite the near mishap, I admit he pulled his weight fending off the Amalj’aa and also arrived just in time to literally save my neck; so the rings beneath his eyes are as warranted as my own. Still, I don’t much appreciate the nagging.

“Does it look like I care? If you don’t like it, you can carry me to my room.”

He smirks. “Do I get a reward if I do?”

“You’ll be allowed to pass out on the floor.”

Smugness fades, shoulders droop, and his exhaustion shows. “You know what, perhaps I’ll just pass out here.”

“Good choice.”

Thancred plops beside me; however, unexpectedly, he slumps to the side, resting his head against my thigh. I simmer silently, but even that is too much effort to continue and I let my hand fall onto his head. Without really intending to, I soon find myself sliding my fingers through his hair, finding the motion soothing. Hell, even the weight of him on my lap somewhat grounds me enough that I can relax just a bit more.

And we fall asleep in the middle of the hall in The Waking Sands.

~~~~~

The darkness greets my blurry gaze but naught seems amiss in this deep night. But as I roll in my bed, the sharp sound cuts through the silence.

Awake, annoyed, and about to commit homicide, I drag myself from beneath the covers. There’s another set of obnoxious knocking before I reach the door and it takes an immense amount of self-control to stop myself ripping the door off its hinges. Who I find was not who I guessed it would be.

“Thancred?”

“Ah, you’re awake,” he says, unusually cheery for so late. As he foolishly grins, the smell of ale wafts off him.

“You’re drunk,” I growl.

He waves a hand nonchalantly. “No no no. I’ve only had a few drinks. I’m still sharp as a tack.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“You know, I was on my way back to my room, but I saw your door and thought I haven’t told you how amazing you are.”

Fire bursts across my back. Pinching at the bridge of my nose, I sigh. “You’ve had way more than a few drinks. Get in here.”

He lets me drag him inside by the front of his shirt to avoid making any sort of scene in the hall. Normally, Thancred handles his alcohol well, so to reach this level would require far more than the amount he claims to have consumed.

Turning back on my midnight guest, I fold my arms. He simply stands there with a stupid grin, clearly not ready for bed yet.

“So, I’m amazing, huh?”

His face somehow gets cheerier. “Of course. How could anyone say that the Warrior of Light is anything but?”

My eyes roll. I’ve heard such praises at least a hundred times, but they feel different coming from his mouth. He’s still not entirely aware though. “Geeze, you’re a mess.”

“That I have no doubt of.” Before I can ask, he goes on. “Did I ever tell you about the time Yda, Papalymo, and I stumbled upon a Titan summoning while trying to find the kobolds’ crystal supplier?”

Crawling onto the bed, I lean against the wall. “No, I don’t think you have.”

And off he goes on a retelling of his misadventure—with plenty of tangents along the way. I’m admittedly tired, but something about him compels me to stay awake and indulge his silly state, feigning shock at spoiled surprises and egging him on when he so desperately wants me to. As he is now, he eats it up and it’s kind of cute.

“Gods, how have you managed to live this long?” Though I laugh, a yawn shoves its way from my mouth.

“Quite honestly, I’m not even sure myself.” Thancred himself yawns.

I let out another laugh, rubbing at my eyes. It’s no use—sleep is here to interrupt our late-night chatter.

Suddenly, there’s a grunt and a weight falls into my lap. To my surprise, Thancred has found no qualms in falling across my bed, using me as his personal pillow. Again, the heat he’d instigated blossoms as his head rests in my lap and he lets out the most content sigh.

“What are you doing?”

He ignores me. “Do the thing.”

While I’m trying to process what he’s talking about, he lifts a hand and waves it impatiently until I give him mine. The moment my fingers graze his palm, he presses them into his hair. My skin my set ablaze, but I get it now. It worsens when, as I begin dragging my fingers along his scalp, Thancred simply melts.

“In the morning, you owe me,” I grumble. The only response I get is a soft hum.

Before long, Thancred is lost to the world, but in all fairness, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly when I fell asleep too.

~~~~~

The Scions have suffered a devastating blow. The Antecedent of the Scions, a Daughter of Hydealyn, our dear Minfilia, is gone.

Ultimately, it fell to me to break the news to my friends of the fate that she had accepted, but I knew, with each passing word, that Thancred would not take it well. The passing days proved this as he spent most of his time alone and trying all too hard to hide what I could plainly see. And I wanted nothing more than to reach out to him, but Thancred would never willingly show me that side of him. It’s killing me to know that all I can do is wait for him to return.

The sound rips me from my dreams. My heart full of hope, without a moment’s hesitation, I fly from my bed to the door and pull it open.

It’s him. He stares, weary and broken, not even meeting my gaze. It breaks my heart to see him like this, but it’s been days since I last saw him and I’m so relieved he’s here. Still, even if I missed him and I’ll certainly miss her, she was like family to him and I know that all he can do is blame himself for what happened.

Without a word, I use a wary hand to lead him inside. It takes little effort to coax him onto the bed, tugging and pushing until he rests with his head in my lap.

As I always do, I glide my fingers through his hair. Part of me hesitates when his breathing becomes more erratic, but I know in the darkest times that it’s the steady things that give us a lifeline back to the light. So I remain steady, offering my soundless support through my simple gesture as Thancred falls apart.

And late into the night, I stay strong through the weakest moment of the strongest person I know.

~~~~~

I stare out at the starry sky of Norvrandt, appreciating it almost as if I were one of its citizens. Things are still hectic and we’ve still got a crucial Light Warden to find, but we need a break from the chaos.

A knock tears me from my stargazing. Ambling across the room, I my greeted by Thancred on the other side of the door.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I hum.

A hand meets the back of his neck. “Not particularly, no, but I was thinking it had been a while since we spent some time together.”

“It’s only been a few weeks,” I tease. Stepping aside, I wave him in.

His eyes roll and he strolls in. “For you, perhaps, but it’s been a long five years for me.”

“Right…” Honestly, I can’t imagine the insanity he suffered of being torn to another world and having to go through it all alone—and then there’s Ryne. Thancred has become a very different person than the man I first met, but I can’t blame him, nor would I ever shun his company.

“How about we stay away from the sullen subjects today?” he says, trying to turn the conversation around.

I accept his change, taking a seat beside the table. “You say that as if you have a topic in mind.”

The man stares down at me and I feel warmth blossom in my chest. There’s something in that gaze I’ve seen glimpses of before; I’ve never been able to discern it’s meaning though.

“What?”

Heaving a sigh, he sits on the floor, leaning against me with his head against my knee. This I know.

“Oh is this all you’ve come for? And here I was starting to think you’d changed.”

He huffs. “Oh quiet. Just do the thing.”

I roll my eyes but run my fingers through his hair. Instantly, Thancred melts and the release of his tension is almost palpable. It brings me some solace to know there’s something I can still do for him.

“It hard to believe I went five years without this,” he murmurs.

His words create a bitter guilt in my stomach. “I’m sorry.”

“Sometimes it felt like it was all I could do to remind myself that you’d be here one day.”

“Thancred…”

“At least I hoped you would. And I told myself—if I ever got another chance—I would tell you everything.” My brain hitches. He chuckles. “But now you’re here and I’m worried I’m not enough. I’ve failed loved ones before and I’m not even sure what I’m doing with Ryne is right. But even in the face of all my faults, even though you deserve so much better, this—just this silly thing you do—means everything to me.”

The steady beating of my heart falters when I decipher the implication. And though he doesn’t budge from his place at my knee, I can feel his scalp burning beneath my fingers. I may not have had a lot of time to think on my relationship with Thancred, but I can’t deny that he’s in my every thought. He’s the one I want to share my success and strife with, the person I’m eager to see when I return to The Rising Stones, and I was literally worried sick when he collapsed in Ala Mhigo. I know I loved him, but it’s never fully dawned on me just how much I love him.

Leaning forward, I press a kiss atop Thancred’s head. The breath he’d been holding comes out in heavy relief and the man melts even more against me.

Hours roll past and my fingers continue combing through Thancred’s hair. Lighter is my heart for the feelings we’ve aired, hopeful to express more in the future to come.

~~~~~

A soothing rhythmic motion drags my mind back from the unknown, combating aches that gnaw at my body and luring me towards the world of the waking. Trembling mars the act and broken voices in the distance echo around, calling to me.

“Don’t…Please…to me…”

Thancred?

“I know you’re strong. I know you’ll pull yourself out of this just like every other mess.” That shuddering breath is the last wake-up call I need. “So please…don’t do this to me.”

Weary eyes pry open to the blurry scene. It soon begins to make sense as the roof of The Ragnarok becomes clear and so does the man hovering over me. His watery eyes light up as he jerks me off the floor and into his arms.

“Thank the Twelve,” he breathes. When a quiver ripples from him, I use what little strength I have to return the embrace.

Apparently, he’d not been the only one waiting for me to wake. The Scions, all weepy-eyed and relieved, scold and fuss over me for my reckless endeavors. I take it all in stride, knowing I would be the same in their shoes. Meanwhile, at every subdued tremble, I lean into Thancred a little more, hoping my small gesture might assuage the terror I’d put him through.

The Loporrits inform us that we’re approaching home and instruct us to relax and prepare for a grand welcoming. I elect to remain where I sit—meaning I am currently incapable of moving—and Thancred stays at my side.

Perhaps it’s the near-death experience talking or maybe it was having Thancred taken from me a second time, but I find myself more mesmerized by him than my approaching home world.

Those silver eyes glance to me. “What are you smiling about?”

A small laugh bubbles up. “Were you doing the thing?”

Just as exhausted as I am, Thancred smiles. “It’s what you would do.”

“Aye, it probably is.”

A kiss meets my temple and The Ragnarok safely delivers everyone home.

#thancred waters #thancred x wol #thancred x reader #gender neutral reader

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sidespart · 3 years

Note

Mundane Mysticism

Fake fic meme

platonic or pre relationship LAMP + platonic (or romantic tbh) Demus, Fantasy AU, Circle of Magic (Tamora Pierce) AU

Universe primer for anyone who has not read the books:

Universe where some people are born with magic, with varying degrees of power. Some people get academic magic, where the magic comes from the person, and some get ambient magic, where the person can 'tap into' the magic of something in their surroundings, normally through performing a craft (eg cloth weaving, smithing etc).

Academic magic is much easier to see and children with magic are normally detected early and trained in how to control their powers. They can choose to study to be mages at universities/temples. it is more common and, in general, more powerful than ambient magic. Ambient magic is much harder to spot and can be harder to control, as practitioners are constantly bombarded by magical energy from their surroundings. it can 'get away' from the user and cause problems if they don't learn to control it. Normally taught via apprenticeship by another mage with the same craft.

Actual Story:

Roman (dancing magic), Logan (water magic) and Virgil (weather magic) are all kids with ambient magic who arn't discovered until they're much older (13+). None of them were aware they had magic and had just resigned themselves to being 'weird'.

inevitable tragic backstories:

Roman's family are nuovo-riche and have always been resentful of mages, who they think look down on normal people. They have a 'children should be seen and not heard' attitude and are basically waiting for Roman to be old enough to marry a suitable girl/ take over part of the family business before they will be interested in him. He is absolutely forbidden from singing and dancing/generally making a nuscience of himself, but he can't help but feel he gets good luck for the day whenever he's able to sneak off and dance...

Logan is a street kid with a reputation for always knowing which water pumps are working and safe to drink from. This is enough for one of the local gangs to take him in even though he's not strong and has bad eyesight, although he can see clearly when he looks at reflections in water. His whole gang end up being rounded up and arrested after robbing the wrong rich guys house, but Logan manages to escape through the sewers, ending up alone on the wrong side of the city....

Virgil is a noble and hears voices. His family care about him but are also terrified of anyone finding out that their heir is 'mad' so he is locked up in his room for most of his life. He was tested for magic as a little kid but they didn't find anything, they don't realise he's hearing voices on the wind. When Virgil was little he got incredibly angry with one of the servants, for reasons he now can't even remember, and said he hoped she would die. That evening, she was killed in a freak storm whilst walking home. Even though Virgil didn't know he had weather magic at the time, he still blamed himself and is absolutely terrified of storms as a result...

All three of them get found and rescued by Janus, an academic mage who specialises in 'finding hidden things' amongst other seer related skills, and brought to a temple to be trained. None of them can fit in with the other children (a mix of academic magic users and non magic kids who are training as adepts) so they're moved out of the dormitories and into a cottage on the temple grounds. Janus and Remus (a plant mage who is always covered in dirt) are the adults living there who become their main teachers.

Janus and Remus are trying their best but like....there is a REASON they haven't taken on apprentices before, let alone kids with as many issues as these three. And the kids do not get along. at all. Roman's too loud, Virgil's too quiet, Logan doesn't trust anyone. Things in the cottage are ~tense~

Patton is another kid adept in training who is being raised at the temple. Whilst there, it's discovered that he also has ambient magic - in cooking. This is a much more common, mundane form of magic than the overpowered, rare magics that the other three have. But it does mean he gets extra 'lessons' in the temple kitchens at odd hours, and ends up meeting and bonding with the other three separately.

Roman's terrified of messing up in front of adults and acts loud and obnoxious in his efforts to be 'perfect' (or at least better than the other two) (even though he can't sit still and meditate AT ALL and he knows that drives Janus crazy and he's totally going to kick him out and send him back home to his parents and and and- ) but Patton is just another kid, and Roman can sneak off at lunch break to meet him and just play and dance silly jigs without worrying about it being perfect. And Patton will always clap and whoop and reward him with home made toffees (his parents never allowed sweets) which give him this like. confident feeling he's never had before.

Logan meets Patton whilst trying to steal extra food at night. Logan doesn't trust adults At All and finds all the rules and regs of temple life baffling, but Patton makes sense to him - Logan needs extra food and Patton needs protection from bullies in his dorm. It's a good trade, even if Logan gets in trouble for 'accidentally' soaking some snooty adepts on their way back from the library. Patton gives Logan biscuits which never go stale, even if he hoards them in his room for weeks, and starts teaching him to read in exchange for stories of life outside the temple. He also accidently gets Logan addicted to jam.

Virgil absolutely hates leaving his room but R&J give him one chore which forces him to go outside: collecting breakfast from the kitchens in the morning. Patton notices Virgil looks terrified of entering the busy kitchen, so he starts meeting him outside with a basket of food. Eventually Vigril's starts coming earlier and earlier so he can stand and chat with Patton for longer before he goes back. he doesn't really get WHY Patton likes him but the morning conversations quickly become the highlight of the day. Patton brews him his own bled of tea which gives him this feeling of calm, even during a storm.

ANYWAY. Eventually SOMETHING happens which puts Patton in danger (i'm thinking....Pirates? Fire in the Kitchen? Bears? idk) The other three have to work together to rescue him and end up finally bonding as a result. After that they start hanging out as a four whenever they can. At some point Janus starts inviting Patton along to their group teaching sessions since he's a good influence on the other three and then he starts staying for breakfast/ lunch / dinner until one day Janus looks at Remus and is all "...do we have a fourth child living in this cottage?" And Remus just sighs at him like. Honey. You're meant to be this all powerful seer how did you not notice we essentially adopted this kid three seconds after he tasting that soup he made. And Janus grumbles but like. He loves these kids he wants them to be happy and Patton is TECHNICALY in need of a teacher too, even if he's got way more control of his powers having grown up in a temple, he is still a kid, so its not totally unreasonable he should move into the cottage.

And it was really good soup.

Story about the Power of Friendship And Also Home Cooking

#patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #fake fic meme #sidespart writes #also if this sounds even vaguly interetsing #READ THE CIRCLE OF MAGIC BOOKS #THEY'RE SO GOOD

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Opposites

Characters: Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 1,594

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: In which the reader is the brain and Xiao is the brawn

Author’s Note: I wasn’t sure what the general setting should be so I put it in a vaguely college/university setting. Prolly cause that’s around my age and also because I cordially dislike highschool AUs. Hopefully that works out alright!

I had to type out almost 2,000 words on my iphone. I never want to do that again.

Xiao

Honestly none of your friends are actually sure how you two got together.

After all, if someone were to take a picture of you and your partner side-by-side then show it to people not in the know, well the prevailing emotion would be something along the lines of: “Are they classmates or neighbors or something?”

To be fair, when the two of your first met even the idea that you would ever end up in love was something laughable. Having been pushed together for a project, your knee-jerk reaction had been: Oh I’m totally going to end up doing this all by myself.

Thankfully however you’d been quickly proven wrong. Although Xiao hadn’t necessarily been the best about planning and other such things, his work was organized and he always showed up to every meeting with his parts completed.

By the end of the project you never wanted to work with another person on a group project again.

And, to be completely honest, you’d definitely developed a crush on your slightly aloof group partner.

Xiao’s reaction was much harder to read.

At first he appeared to want nothing to do with you. Work was emailed to you with not so much as a subject line; meetups passed in awkward silence broken by tentative questions on your part. You’d sort of assumed that he saw you as annoying and the group work as useless - which to be fair it sort of was useless.

So when he emailed you a few weeks later asking for your number and if you wanted to do something, well, safe to say you almost fell out of your chair.

Though the start was a little awkward, Xiao’s conversational nature didn’t develop much in general, you two fell into a routine of sorts, a relationship of unspoken boundaries and spontaneous confidences.

During the first few weeks of you odd sort of relationship you’d come to the conclusion that, though not a talker, Xiao was ultimately quite apathetic in nature. Eventually however you realized apathetic wasn’t the right term.

Though he might’ve appeared sullen on the outside, Xiao never actually acted in a way that hinted at any resentment or irritation; he never dragged his feet about something or implied it was stupid that you should ask for help or for a favor.

His assertiveness, which might’ve been mistaken for aloofness, was endearing. Xiao never half-asses anything, even when if wasn’t doing something for another person, like you.

You appreciated this side of his personality, the fact that he was quick to act, admired if even. It certainly stood in stark contrast to your tendency to overthink things, something that could quickly end up kneecapping you depending on what decisions were being debated.

It was an alien concept to you, the sort of philosophy Xiao seemed to live by, and its novelty was refreshing.

As your thoughts slid more and more to focusing on Xiao you became more and more aware of the rumors that abounded about him.

He was a troubled youth, he was prone to fighting, he had been so uncontrollable in secondary school that only one teacher had been able to get him to do anything. The only times he spoke was to wound, and he never had a word to say that wasn’t angry.

Well, obviously that wasn’t the truth, but any attempt to clear up the situation was quickly met with odd stares and responses that all smacked of: “Oh you poor idiot, you just haven’t learned yet.”

You would’ve liked to think that you didn’t let it affect your relationship with him, but evidently the rumors had begun to catch up to you.

“Hey, you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Have I?” You shifted awkwardly in your seat. Xiao sighed, evidently aware of where this was going.

“It’s because of what people say about me, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“I see.”

That had been the beginning and the end of the conversation for quite some time, almost as if Xiao had yet to decide whether or not you were one of the few in whom he could entrust the truth. Yet despite the rumors and the odd looks you still found yourself gravitating towards Xiao, and soon enough that initial pull turned into something much deeper.

The day that you two became “official” was the day Xiao told you the truth. He had been a delinquent as a teenager.

Born into a family full of troubles Xiao shouldered the circumstances as best he could.

However things cannot stay untouched forever; the distress that Xiao experienced only grew, the pressure ratcheting up with every incident, every item thrown to the ground, every fight that ended in humiliating pain.

Eventually it became too much, and when it did Xiao took his anger out not on his family, not on the people who had failed him, but on any classmate who antagonized the vulnerable child.

Fights became a regular part of Xiao’s life until university, and it was only in meeting his mentor, Zhongli, that the lost young man had managed to pull his life together.

Things made more sense after that, though one couldn’t say that everything was right with the world. Students, coworkers, the particularly idiotic TA, all of them still carried the sense that Xiao was not to be trusted. You could see how it upset your partner sometimes, when he was ignored at the coffeeshop or excluded from class group chars in the like.

Whenever he did that Xiao tended to retreat into himself, as if worried he might explode again. It took a lot of coaxing to get him out of such situations but it was always worth it to see your partner’s expression soften, to see his small smile once more.

What you didn’t tell him was that you were just as angry as he was, just as resentful at the people within your major which were hellbent on acting like they were still in high school.

Eventually however the trials of your early were utterly forgotten, the questions and the secrets replaced by a sense of slightly hilarious domestic bliss.

You were definitely the brains of the group, something Xiao didn’t seem to mind - though he probably would find that actual statement somewhat silly.

Xiao, on the other hand, held the esteemed position of Person Who Actually Got Stuff Done. You relied on him to get you out of your mental spirals, to pull you out of your room and out of your brain fog and to get you to do something; even if it wasn’t the thing you were thinking about.

In return it was your job to make sure Xiao didn’t get himself killed doing something stupid.

Xiao’s reticence masked an almost supernatural recklessness. Though your partner didn’t own a motorbike, if he had you were completely convinced he’d ride one without a helmet. His almost total disinterest in his own safety was something that you brain shrunk from, and more often than not a crazy plan of his would end with you listing the terrible things that might happen if something were to go wrong, even if those things weren’t always the most realistic.

There was a storm in twenty minutes? It was the perfect time for a walk! There was cavern nearby with tunnels were so tight you had to walk single file? Sure why not!

He would talk about such things as if there was nothing to it, as if it didn’t send your heart rate spiking. There wasn’t the slightest acknowledgment of danger. Even his tone was as gruff as usual, as if it was the most natural thing to want to go mountain climbing, not interesting enough to get even a little excited about.

It was probably good he did martial arts. You didn’t even want to think about where all that energy would go otherwise.

Xiao’s straightforward nature came out in softer ways too, ways that you envied much more than his full-steam-ahead recklessness.

He was never afraid to state what was on his mind. Whether it was correcting a waiter who got his order wrong or telling a rude doormats to fuck off, all these things were natural to him.

To be honest you completely envied that aspect of him, unable go replicate such a mindset in yourself.

When you’d commented on it once Xiao had stared oddly at you. After a moment he told you that he figured it came from his background. Sometimes you had to learn how to say “no” or “that’s wrong” or “you’re a shitty person.”

Just as you tried to curb the most extreme parts of Xiao’s recklessness, so too did Xiao work to bring you out of the spirals your mind went down sometimes, and so did he try to coax you out of the overthinking that kept you from asserting yourself in your life.

Saying you two were complete opposites wouldn’t really be accurate. You shared similar views, similar passions, similar opinions on what mattered. Yet it was true that, in some ways, you complemented one another. And when it came to those traits in which you differed, well you would like to think that your differences just made you stronger as a couple.

Maybe your friends couldn’t understand how you two got together, or why you were so deeply in love with the person you’d chosen to be your partner. But you didn’t care.

You loved Xiao with all your soul, and, at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

#genshin impact fanfiction #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin xiao #requested #headcanons #my writing

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hannie-dul-set · 4 years

Text

— contrariety & confluence | jung jaehyun.

SUMMARY | there was not an instance in your life where your judgement was proven to be mistaken— especially with regards to infatuations outside of your own. after an unpredicted introduction with a far too remarkable farm boy, you took it upon yourself to find a suitable match for him, not realizing that perhaps this time; your usual correct judgements might have been incorrect. PAIRING | jung jaehyun x female! reader [slight johnny x reader and jaehyun x oc, mentions of dotae and other pairings] GENRE | emma! au, matchmaking! au, strangers to lovers! au, slowburn (like i mean slow slow), period romance, humor, one suggestive scene, very very tiny angst, also jaehyun falls on love too quickly LMAO WARNINGS | implied and borderline smut, other than that none <33 (omg there’s no SWEARING in this wow) WORD COUNT | 16.9k TAGLIST | @sehunniepot @ukiyoneo @roury66 @nct-writers @czennienet @neowritingsnet @kpopscape

a/n: i wrote this....in seven days (not even JSFSD) ANYWAYS i hope you like this huhu jaehyun really has gotten me in a spell lately HJFF inspired by jane austen’s emma! but it doesn’t follow the actual book’s plotline hehe

A pleasant afternoon was how one would describe the present air and scenery— the sunrays scintillating over the nearby stream in such a manner that made its blue tint rival that of the clear sky, a faint brustling of the wind that shuffled the neverending tall, forest trees, and distantly was a flowered meadow of the countryside that visually neared as the carriage horses took their light gallop on the dirt path towards it.

Indeed, it was a pleasant afternoon, yet your temperament was less than pleasant; it leaned more into the adjective “stormy” from the way your eyebrows knitted together to accompany your deep frown, only worsened when an envious bump interrupted your supposedly pleasant carriage ride.

“Father, perhaps it isn’t too late to reverse? To return back to the estate?”

You made no effort in hiding your sour expression in front of your dear father, who was sitting before you inside the small space of the closed carriage. “Now, Y/N, we would not want to be tiresome to Mr. Jeon, do we? Not when we are already a mere walks away.”

“Mr. Jeon would not be troubled by his own occupation,” you reasoned, but the debate was settled because as though your father was lenient and doting towards you, his only daughter, he was a sensitive man who considered the welfare of all those that surround— that included Mr. Jeon, the primary coachman of your estate.

Mr. L/N had never failed in being quick to catch your subtle tells, and this moment was no other. He saw your parted lips breathing out a sigh, your gaze in a faraway spell to the open window, and shoulders slacked in despondency. “Eyes up, my little birdie,” your father called out. “I am aware that it is most upsetting for you to have lost a dear friend to the covetous hands of wedlock, but this excursion would prove to be a remedy for your mourning heart! Have I ever told you about kind Mrs. Lee and her children? Mrs. Lee, I have known far before you were born, but I have never been lucky enough to be acquainted with her children yet. Though I hear that they are quite pleasant fellows.”

The word pleasant simply grated your annoyance further. There was no such thing as pleasant when all your heart could feel was the grief brought about by the marrying of Miss Anna— your governess slash mother figure slash best friend— a week prior to today’s present. You had no pleasure in calling her Mrs. Qian, because quite frankly, you were still lamenting over the great sorrow of the loss of such a dear and close person, catalyzed by very much your own urgings and schemings.

It was an ideal match, her and Qian Kun. Highly congratulated and expected. A happy wedding for both parties except your own.

“Oh dear, how affected must you be for tears to well up,” your father cooed, leaning forwards to wipe away your cries with his handkerchief, to which you simply insisted him to sit back down as you had your own. “Miss Anna is in a very much happy disposition right now, my dear Y/N. And I predict that she would want the same for you.”

Your intellect was not ignorant of that fact, but your emotions pressed on to ignore Miss Anna’s wishes. It would take more than three-and-twenty excursions to Hollybrook Farm in order to fill the missing gap of one most cherished.

Mr. L/N’s heart was weighed heavier from having a front seat to your sorrows, and a thought came to him. A thought that he wished to never have thought of at all. “My dearest daughter,” he started in a shaky voice. “My only daughter. You aren’t going to leave your poor father this soon, are you not?”

“Oh what nonsense, papa!”

Your abrupt refute sang in line with yet another bump on the road, though your tenor was much less unaffected from your impenetrable indignancy.

“Such unthinkable, ineffable nonsense!” you cried in your seat, the lines of your embroidered handkerchief crumpling from your tight grasp. “I love you much too dearly to even ponder on marriage. You need not to fear that moment else you will only worry yourself into sickness.”

Your father’s silly notion had managed to ease you momentarily, allowing you to breathe and admire the natural scenery in a way that you were not able to a minute prior. Although that brief moment of serenity only lasted until the end of the ride. The ground crackled when you dropped down from the carriage, and you were once again hit by the wretchedness of the three or four realizations as you stood a reasonable distance from the farmhouse of Hollybrook; the first being the fact that Miss Anna will never be reverted back to maidenhood by a trivial excursion, or any excursion for that matter. The second, how shabby the presenting structure of Mr. and Mrs. Lee’s home appeared before you. And third, the idea that you were to stay here for an entire night and two half-days.

It was tortuous.

“Mr. and Miss L/N! How grateful we are to have you company! Oh, come, come, please do come in!”

Half forced was the smile that you willed to your face as you passed through the fence that surrounded the wide vicinity of the family’s land. Mrs. Lee was a rather chipper lady, having none to not talk about as each second her lips were steadily moving, and though she was polite, pleasant, and very much hospitable, you found her incessant speeches far too tiring to stand. “Mr. Lee is unfortunately not with us today for he and my eldest had business to be dealt with in town, but please oh please do not fret! My three sons and I will be sure to provide a pleasant enough company for the both of you.”

“It is you that must not fret, Mrs. Lee,” you smiled at her. A pleasant smile. Mildly forced. But politeness was a must. “My father and I are sure that our stay here will be much enjoyed considering how amiable the lady of the house is.”

“Oh, Mr. L/N. Your daughter is as much of a charmer as you are,” the lady guffawed at your remark, a fond smile on her weathered features. “We will forever be indebted to your kindness! If it weren’t for you, we would not even have a house to live in. Though brief— I do hope you enjoy your stay here at Hollybrook.”

As the two chatted away along the cobbled path, you took the moment to study the sight before you— a large house, not as large as yours at Whitland, but large enough to fit a family of six or seven. The grey brick walls were infested with an overgrowth of vines, painting it with a green that matched the surroundings of grass that stretched farther than you could see. It was a very pleasing structure if it weren’t for the muddy windows, wheelbarrows unkempt, and the evident disarray of shoes that you were welcomed with at the entrance. That enough was telling of the people that lived here, and though you disliked holding prejudices, it was something that you could not control.

You breathed in, drowning out the unwavering voice of Mrs. Lee in the background.

A less than pleasant afternoon. You could only hope for a more pleasant evening.

“Mark! Please do check on the oven— Jeno! Be a dear and set the table for our guests— oh my— Donghyuck!”

A snort of a pig.

“How many times must I tell you; do not bring Kosher into the house!”

A door slamming to a close.

It was far from a pleasant evening. In fact, it was even less pleasant than the afternoon, yet your father seemed to be pleased enough with the mess that was dinnertime preparation, even laughing along as he aided Donghyuck in luring out Kosher back into his pen. All you could do was sit in your chair at the very far corner, recollecting all the information that you have thus far observed from your new acquaintances— which only brought about a bitter taste of cold, chilling, malcontentment. Mrs. Lee was quick to judge, and so were her four sons; though one was absent, for you it was easy to formulate your discernment of his character— not quite concrete, but concrete enough to know that the eldest Mr. Lee was a hardworking whose sphere of concern is limited within the family, and the family only.

Quite an amendable quality so long as you were in the sphere. Not when you were a guest. He could have spared some time to accommodate you and your father, but as he did not wish so and so he did not.

Next in line was Mark Lee. Handsome, well-mannered, well-spoken— exemplary despite his upbringing, but the boy was lacking the respect of being the standing eldest of the three with his brother’s absence. Poor Mark was being buried in all of Donghyuck’s chores without his concurrence, but without any protests.

Jeno Lee was objectively the handsomest of the three, and arguably the most agreeable. He would be rivalling Roselake’s Jaemin Na in terms of manners, politeness, and overall gentlemanly constitution. If only it weren’t for his regretful fear of women, then he would have been a chivalrous candidate for marriage. He was inherently unable to send a glance at your way without wearing the prettiest shade of red on his personable features.

Lastly, Donghyuck Lee was very much like his mother— exceptionally good-humored, exceptionally unwavering, and exceptionally tiring just as she. You could not handle a minute of his presence and you were yet to arrange a plan on how to exactly to last the entire dinner alone. The deafening of one of your senses was enough to blind the other; it was truly a shame as he was both handsome and intelligent, too. Well, it did not matter since marriage was a bleak concept for you, but you could have set him up with someone you knew.

Dinner, which was supposed to be a quiet occasion with light and educated conversation, was beyond what you had prepared for. And as if Mrs. Lee’s and your father’s chatterings weren’t boisterous enough, as if the three brothers’ over the table deviltries weren’t rasping enough, your dinner was further intruded by the irksome knock of the door.

“Oh, dear Mark, would you please answer the door? Hurry, hurry!” at his mother’s command, the clattering of utensils was heard, and following after was Mark’s hurried steps. “How I have completely forgotten from all the frantic preparations— Miss Y/N, you have room for one more acquaintance, no?”

You were not given the proper opportunity to react— only enough time or you to open your mouth in preparation for speaking, yet you could not. It was either from your voice momentarily dysfunctioning, or perhaps from the inhibitions attracted by the intruders attendance. Though the most plausible conclusion would be both.

Both. Indeed it was both. How could one even think to speak when brought before the presence of such a man.

He caught your stare. You forced your mouth to a close.

“Jaehyun, how was the delivery? Oh, I hope the journey wasn’t too fatiguing.”

“Madam, fatigue is but a distant cousin that I have never come to know in years,” the man known as Jaehyun smiled, causing distinct indentions to sink on his cheeks. He diverted from your sharp gaze. Handsome, you drew, continuing to eye him as you took a subtle sip from your water. “The delivery and transaction went as usual. Though I would appreciate if you weren’t to worry each time,” a laugh— even his laugh was handsome. “Shall we sit, Mrs. Lee?”

The three sons cheerily greeted Jaehyun as he sat amongst them, though not before aiding the older lady to the seat of her own. Perfectly handsome, perfectly mannered, perfectly agreeable; never in your life had you been beheld to such a perfect subject of a man. Though his clothes were wrinkled and skin dusted, those measly details were little enough to be overlooked by his overall disposition.

He was almost far too perfect to be deemed true.

“Miss Y/N, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Jung Jaehyun—” nods and smiles exchanged across the table right before Mrs. Lee continued to speak. “He is almost like my own son after living with us since he was four! Now three-and-twenty and has grown into such a fine gentleman indeed!”

Ah, you clicked your tongue. There it was.

But an unknown background was something that you could work with.

“May I inquire your opinion on something, Mr. Jung?”

He flinched midway eating his meal; expectedly so since the first words you’ve spoken to him after all those unwavering and calculative stares was something so bleak and ominous. He gingerly settled down his spoon, replacing it with a napkin to wipe his greased lips. One look at him was impossible to discern his upbringing of being a farm boy. “Please refer to me as Jaehyun, Miss Y/N. That enough is all right.”

Your lips quirked into a smile.

“Never have I met someone so politely hypocritical,” you hummed. He simply pressed his lips into a thin smile. “Very well then, Jaehyun. How do you feel about daisies?”

Daisies. A quizzical question that entranced the entire dinner table— though the subject of your question did not take long to think and utter out his answer.

“Well, a small bouquet of daisies would be sufficient enough to comfort an ailing friend,” Jaehyun thought out loud, then a flash of concern flitted through his eyes. “Are any of your friends ill, Miss Y/N? I know of a nearby patch where you could pick them.”

It was a different kind of triumph that you felt when you heard of his practically perfect answer; the notion of is character to be knowledgeable from the brief explanation of flower, the poignancy from the thought of a misfortune of a friend of an acquaintance (not even friend of a friend), and the unconditional, compassionate offering a service.

At that point you had decided.

“Oh, not at all, Jaehyun. All of them are perfectly healthy. Thank you for providing a response,” picking up a fork, you sent him a full, satisfied smile. “Anyhow, I believe that is enough conversion for one night. Let us dine, shall we?”

That a man such as Jung Jaehyun does not deserve to be bound inside the fences of a farm, for the world has much more to offer.

It was without precariousness and uncertainty that you, Miss Y/N L/N, sole heiress of Whitland Estate, can conclude with no much further deliberation required, had not, in fact, slept a single wink.

Even Kosher the pig might have slept more soundly than you.

“Mrs. Lee, I’m going out!” you announced from the door. “Please tell father in case he looks for me when he wakes up!”

It was thirty before six, and since there was no hope for you to rest atop the rock hard bed that you were provided, you ultimately opted to take a walk outside for some early exercise. (Frankly, it was not that hard— you were simply not used to beddings apart from your own inside your estate. You didn’t blame the Lee’s for your inability to adapt). A heavily clouded sky met you outside as it had showered a few hours prior, therefore you took it upon yourself to watch your step so as to not slip and fall.

Despite the unclear sky, there were moments where sunlight had just managed to slip past the cloud, allowing for a brief moment of golden rain. You anticipated the said occurrence during each moment of your walk.

You were forced to a stop upon being met by a downhill slope, and there you realized that Hollybrook Farm was quite actually much larger than the front had presented itself to be.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N! Jeno wishes you a good morning to— hey! Did I say something wrong?!”

Your laughter was unprevented due to the younger boys’ antics. They were rather lively for it being too early— though they were probably used to waking at such a time, perhaps even earlier due to their responsibilities in the farm. Undeniably, your initial impression of the lot was quite critical and nit-picky, but you had no doubts on them being pleasant fellows (as long as Donghyuck does not speak a thousand words a minute, of course).

Smiling, you hurriedly trekked towards the two boys who were still quarrelling among the flock of sheep, and so you momentarily forgot about the rain that had occurred prior, subsequently forgetting about the risk of slipping on the soft dirt.

Therefore the next event was to no one’s surprise but your own.

A misstep. You let out a scream as you slid down.

With your eyes squeezed shut and with the wind racing past you in such a terrifying speed, the fear of crashing down was numbed by the adrenaline that coursed through your veins, and all you could was wait for the imminent impact that—

You squeaked.

—that never seemed to have come.

“O-oh,” your breath staggered, eyes lost from the heat of the moment, and your slanted figure was caught by an arm that caged you, serving as a barrier between you and the mudded ground. In an instinctive motion, your head snapped up, meeting the eyes of the one who had just been in time to save you. It was Jaehyun. “I—”

You did not know what were the appropriate words for such a situation, and apparently neither did he because all he did was stare at you wide eyed with mixture of worry and panic and relief, making you believe that he was just as frightened as you because of the fall. An exchange of eye contact; blinking and unblinking. Jaehyun released a sharp huff of relief, and quite unexpectedly, he lifted you off the ground and into his arms in a bridal carry.

Your heart stirred in bewilderment.

“Ex—excuse me, Jaehyun, but it is less than appropriate for a man like you to be—”

“I apologize, Miss Y/N, but I am less concerned with propriety and more so with the possibility of you sustaining an injury,” he declared. “I cannot allow you to walk.”

None more was said after. You were left to ponder on your thoughts.

Jaehyun had his nose pointed forward as he carried you, eyes ahead and shadowed by the tufts of his hair; a manly disposition overall in addition to his declarations prior. Your admiration was simply stretched further. Though, it was not an admiration that strung one’s heart in fleeting motions; rather it was a type of admiration that an aesthete would hold towards a work of art, unaffected and untouchable— though still open to refinery. Jung Jaehyun was indeed a walking piece of art.

It seemed as though you were not the only one to agree, because as you passed near the fence, still in his arms, you caught sight of a group of young girls. You inwardly scoffed. It was obvious that they were here to admire the boy. It was also obvious that they had to be content with merely admiring, as a single step closer would be an insult to Jaehyun. He deserved someone of the same degree.

Wait.

“Miss Y/N, I will be setting you down, now.”

You were far deep into thought to realize that you had settled into the barn, quite frankly in a daze when Jaehyun gently placed you atop a squared hay bale. He made sure not to linger his touch on your skin for far too long, but also making sure to not be hasty— treating you with such a delicate care that made you think: Mrs. Lee raised him well. Far too well.

“I apologize for my rudeness,” you said. “I haven’t even properly thanked you for saving me.”

Jaehyun squatted before you, wordlessly asking permission to check on your ankle, and you gave him a wordless response in return. He pulled your boots off of your feet. “Please do be careful next time, Miss Y/N. The soil gets slippery when it rains,” he mumbled. “Does this hurt?”

“Not at all.”

He sighed in relief. “All right. But you should remain inside to rest for the time being. I am afraid I would not get any work done if you remain. I would be far too worried.”

You appreciated the addition of the last sentence.

“Allow me to repay your kindness one day, Jaehyun.”

“There is no need, Miss Y/N. I just— ah, allow me to help you.”

Jaehyun did not even let you get off of the hay bale on your own despite your countless assurances that you could walk as fine as any other, but he insisted on escorting you outside of the barn, extending until the door of the farmhouse, and even when you mounted the carriage as you and your father were already to make your leave. You feared that your father might actually pass if you tell him about your accident, but luckily Jaehyun was there to assure him of all his worries.

He certainly deserved someone of the same degree.

“Please do visit again soon!”

And unlike when you arrived, the departure was far more pleasant. Because as you were gazing outside the window of the carriage with your countless thoughts, you had come up with the perfect match that was fitting for a man such as Jung Jaehyun.

The moon had already replaced the sun when you and your father returned to the estate, and there waiting was Johnny Suh— a close friend of your father despite being years and years younger. You did not view him as a friend; he was much like a fond annoyance that you perceived as familial at best, and nefarious at worst. Your ideals simply did not align, and more likely than not, it was the prerequisite for all of your arguments. Though, you would be lying if you said you did not find joy debating with him. The joy being found in his defeat.

“Mr. L/N,” Johnny started. The three of you were sitting around in the manor’s reception room, the usual tea and chat taking place. “If I were to be honest, I did not expect a trip to the countryside would do your daughter’s selfish grievances any better, but perhaps miracles do exist.”

You sent him a sidelong glance as you took a sip from your tea. Johnny returned it with a charming grin. The nerve.

“What makes you say that?”

“You left looking like a widower and returned looking like a newlywed. That is enough for me to draw my conclusions.”

A wispy laugh was released by your father, and for a moment you felt betrayed. You elicited a cough, placing the cup on the saucer that was held by your other hand. Johnny looked at you expectantly. “But is that enough for you to draw the reason as to why I’m in such a happy mood?”

“Unfortunately not. But I do have a bit of an idea,” he answered “You are scheming again, are you not?”

You smiled innocently. “What could you possibly mean?”

This was not an unnatural sight in the estate, seeing as your father was simply reading in silence as he listened to your back and forths. Johnny was not by any means amused by your lack of definitive response. He really wanted to know what, or who brought your spirits to such a high considering that you had practically been weeping not even a day ago. You would not simply let go of Miss Anna unless you found a new occupancy— and something like that was unlikely to be found at a farm.

“Oh? You feign ignorance when not even a month ago you were rejoicing your victory of finally getting Mr. and Mrs. Wong to be wed.”

“Ah, I simply pulled a few strings here and there.”

“And what about Taeyong and Doyoung?”

“They would not have gotten together if it were not for me mediating between their stubbornness.”

Johnny exhausted a sigh. “Y/N, you are quite frankly the impossible woman I have ever met.”

“I do not believe you have met enough women to surmise such a deduction.”

He was getting annoyed. You could tell from the way his jaw clenched. He ignored your quip and instead shifted back to the topic beforehand. “You are still acting innocent as if you are not scheming something when you are practically incriminating yourself by evidence that came from none other than yourself. Who is it this time?”

“I am not scheming, Johnny,” you pressed on, choosing to ignore the last question. “A scheme is something grand— elaborate. I am not even lifting a finger.”

“You never change,” he huffed. “Still as proud as ever.”

“Of course, as there is undeniably something to be proud of when you help in watering love to bloom,” you reasoned, and a subtle smirk glistened on your face. “Well, your indifference is quite understandable. A man that is five-and-twenty and unmarried would never—”

“Coming from someone who declared herself to be an old maid,” Johnny proclaimed in a loud voice, a glare shot into your direction. “You should be more sensible in who you point your fingers at.”

You scoffed. “That is a completely—”

“Y/N, my dear!”

It was fortunate that your father had interrupted before the both of you could verbally rip each other’s throats apart from a distance. You and Johny visibly calmed down, a simultaneous, unspoken truce as you breathed in and relaxed in your chair.

“Are you still to continue your hobby in matchmaking?”

Completely ignoring Johnny’s dirty stares and incoherent mumbling, you spread your lips into a bright, wide smile. “Why of course, dear papa! Vicariously romancing through the lives of others is the only way a destined old maid such as I could feel the profound experience of falling in love. There is no reason for me to stop, there not?” a choked out laughter is heard from across the room, unmistakably from Johnny, but you simply responded by a threatening gaze, to which he promptly shut his mouth. “Oh, by the way, father. When is our dear, little Hwayoung returning from boarding school? Has she sent a letter, by any chance?”

Johnny chuckled, bringing the teacup to his lips. “You still call her little when she’s a mere year younger than you.”

“Then shall I call you uncle as you are four years older than me?”

Sohn Hwayoung was the daughter of a merchant in Roselake; a very pretty, very charming, and a very chipper young lady that had always followed you like a baby duckling since you were thirteen. She was like a little sister to you— always heeding your advice and exemplifying you as “Miss Y/N can never be wrong”. Apart from Miss Anna, you had always been especially fond of Hwayoung, and therefore you were devastated when you found out about her leaving, just as you were during your governess’ engagement. But now it was summer. She was to return to Roselake on any day this week.

Your father wore an approving smile, and you clasped your hands together in hopeful expectancy. “She is to return this Friday.”

A bright, beaming grin splendored your face, squealing, and you nearly jumped out of your place.

“Oh, what a joyous occasion! Shall we celebrate her return, papa? It has been far too long since a ball was held in the village.”

“I do not suppose why not,” he chuckled. “I will be calling Mrs. Qian for the arrangements.”

“Thank you so much, father!” you ran over to embrace him, to which he returned with one of his own. “Also, Mr. Jeon— will he be off tomorrow? You see, I would like to send a letter.”

This particular statement piqued the interest of Johnny, as he sat up in his seat with a n air of attentiveness and curiosity. The man was as sharp as ever, but you knew your way around him. “To Hwayoung?” he inquired, the subtle cock of his brow, but you simply gave him a secretive yet knowing smile.

“No,” you replied. “Not to Hwayoung.”

The streaks of sunlight leaking through the open window would have woken you from your slumber if it were not for Mr. Kim, a servant of the house, waking you up by a loud, hollow knock on your door in such an urgent manner.

“Miss Y/N, a visitor has come. Please hurry down.”

You were rather alarmed when that was the first thing that greeted you the moment you woke up, but a side of you somewhat expected this sudden visitation. Quickly, you raced down the halls of your manor, passing by lines and lines of windows, paintings, and statues in such a pace that did not allow you any moment to admire their intricacies. Mr. Jeon had departed yesterday to deliver your message— and it appeared that it was properly relayed. You were still in your nightwear when you had passed through the arch that led to the entrance hall, a shawl draped over your shoulders. When your eyes landed on the visitor that came in such a short notice, you couldn’t prevent the winning smile from replacing your previously drowsy expression.

He never came to disappoint.

“Miss Y/N!”

Jung Jaehyun sprang from the long sofa, a bouquet of daisies in hand, in such a frantic resolution that nearly made you feel guilty.

“Is everything all right?! Are you hurt?! Did you— wait, hold on, why are you standing? Dear god, did you walk all the way— you— you should not be—”

“It is quite appreciative that you have responded to my invitation with such an exemplary promptness, Jaehyun.”

He blinked at you, mouth opening and closing in a confused, convoluted manner that was almost comedic if you weren’t the precursor for his distress. You simply stood in front of him in the middle of the room with a fixed smile on your face. He was lost, disordered. And it reflected on the dirt on his clothes, the dust clinging onto is skin, and the tousled nature of his hair.

“I thought— I thought there was an—”

“There was no accident, Jaehyun. That was simply made-up.”

“But you said you were—”

“Alive and well, as you can see.”

“Then why did you—”

“Simply because I wanted you around,” you perked, eyes twinkling and hands politely folded behind your back. “You would not have come otherwise, am I correct?”

Prior to writing your letter to the Lee’s, you had come to a realization that a responsible man such a Jaehyun would not just abandon his duties at Hollybrook for something as trivial as tea time. You had to come up with a different reason— a more urgent, pressing, and important reason— even if that reason was a mere fabrication. Jaehyun seemed to have only realized it now. He was made to believe that you have gotten into an accident much worse than yesterday’s.

He flushed scarlet.

“Well—” Jaehyun stammered, embarrassed, unable to meet you eye to eye. You pressed your lips together in the hopes of preventing an amused smile from forming in such an inappropriate situation. But it was difficult with his ears getting redder by the second. Honestly, considering the situation, it was you that should have been the shameful one, not him. “If— if that is the case then I believe it is only right for me to take my leave.”

“On the contrary, I believe you should stay,” you quickly strided when he turned away and ready to leave through the doors, blocking his attempt of escape. “Apart from the—” you coughed. “—red herrings in the letter. Your presence is still highly welcome in the estate. How about extending your stay until tomorrow?”

Jaehyun let out a strangled cough at your suggestion. “I am afraid that would be highly inconvenient for you, Miss Y/N, as I have brought nothing but myself.”

“Well, you certainly brought along these lovely daisies with you,” he forgot about those, and you took the bunched up flowers from his right hand, the faintest brushing of your skin, and you smiled at him when you brought them up to your face to smell the grassy, earthy scent. His ears became redder. “Come. You need not to worry about clothing, toiletries or essentials, as the L/N residence has more than enough to provide. You do not have to worry about the farm either— I will be sending another letter to Mrs. Lee about your temporary absence. She would be delighted to hear that you will be staying a few days here.”

From how determined you were, there was no hope in objecting, but Jaehyun still had yet to try. “Miss Y/N,” he began, following your back as you started to leave the entrance hall. “I simply cannot be intrusive to your hospitality. I do not wish to be a burden.”

“Nonsense, Jaehyun!” you suddenly swiveled, meeting him face to face, the bouquet pointed against his nose. He swallowed hard. “I lured you here and therefore it is only rightfully so that I redeem myself by treating you as an esteemed guest.”

You carried yourself with such a confident and dignified air that Jaehyun simply cannot help but consent. The scarlet rouge seemed to have no intention of leaving his face— only darkening and growing warmer. You hadn’t judged him to fluster easily, but perhaps the hot weather was a contributing factor. You paid no mind.

“Well, anyway,” you hummed in satisfaction, leading him deeper into the manor. “Would you prefer a view of the front garden or of the back garden?”

After an entire day in Whitland, Jaehyun had proven himself to be even more agreeable that you had accounted for, which brought about no regrets in your decision of bringing him here to Roselake as it was the utmost sense of pride that you have ever felt. Not only was he such a fine dancer, he knew how to play the pianoforte and was highly cultured in music altogether. He even knew how to cook. And above all— he collected all sorts of poems, riddles, and charades that he penned in a small notebook, which simply accentuated your making of a good character for him. You had made no errors when you judged that he belonged in high society. He would fit right in.

All that was left was to do something about those drab costumes of his.

“Is it really all right for me to wear such an expensive attire, Miss Y/N?”

You had invited him for breakfast together as your father and Johnny went out into the village, and you simply did not like solitude when there were others around. He sat before you, across the table, squirmish and unsure. You frowned. The both of you were seated in such a beautiful spot inside the house— right beside the large window that opened to the gardens. This was no place for negativity.

“Why, surely!” you bellowed. “Would you rather run about uncovered, Jaehyun?”

It was instantaneous how he reddened.

“But of course, if that is what you wish, then—”

“Miss Y/N!” he stammered indignantly, his palm heavily dropping onto the table, causing it to rattle. “I— I had never expected vulgarities of any kind to be expressed by lips such as your very own.”

His flustered outrage was very much obvious by the way exhaled in such an exasperated manner, looking away into the window because it was far less perilous to eye the rose bush peeking from the glass. The red roses matched his face. “I believe this is not an appropriate topic to be discussed over a meal,” he sounded. “It is ill-suited in general.”

Jaehyun was unfortunately unable to catch the glimmer in your eyes. “You seem to boast a deep knowledge about vulgarities, yet you do not know that it is vulgar to speak about a lady's lips without her discretion,” he would not have choked on air if he had caught it.

“Oh my,” Your chair grated against the floor as you stood to help him, but he waved you off back to your seat “I was simply teasing, Jaehyun. I apologize, I really could not help myself.”

He drank from his glass of water, still rather ruffled from the event. “You seem to find a lot of joy from teasing others, Miss Y/N.”

“It is a lot of fun,” you agreed. Thankfully, Jaehyun seemed to have recovered now. “I would recommend the activity to you but I’m afraid you are far too nice to enjoy it.”

“Oh?” he pondered, a raise of a brow. It was about time that he took a bite from the prepared breakfast as he did not want to invade any further, but he was worried that it would be a waste. He took a fork from the table and started to eat. “How are you sure that I would not enjoy such a thing?”

Was he trying to challenge you? You chuckled. He may have seemed tolerant and forbearing over anything based on the air that he bequeathed as he went, but perhaps he hasn’t chosen to forgive you yet for pulling such a jest— he was extremely flustered, after all. You wouldn't have forgiven yourself, either. “It is a first that I have met a gentleman as constitutionally juxtaposed as you are. Are you upset that I teased you?"

“Not at all,” he said. “It would be rude for me to think ill of my host. I simply wonder how you’ve made so quick of a judgement when we've only met twice."

“Oh, judgement is arbitrary, Jaehyun. I draw conclusions as I wish and change them as I wish. Yet so far my impression of you has not changed one bit.”

He was silent for a moment, looking at you so intently that you could hardly recognize him as the same blushing boy as earlier. “Will I ever expect a change, Miss Y/N?”

This caught you by surprise.

It was vexing— how you had no theory on what prompted such a question, and what exactly kind of answer was he expecting and what he was to do with it. Jaehyun appeared to be anticipating your response; he stopped the clattering of utensils altogether and instead waited for you to speak in patience. You had no choice but to simply answer honestly.

“Oh, do you wish for it to change? But I believe my judgement of you is the best judgement one could ever make from a man,” you replied. “Well of course, that depends entirely on you, Jaehyun.”

You couldn’t tell if he was satisfied or less than, because all he affirmed with was a puzzling, thin smile that showed his dimples, followed by a reserved “I see.”

Throughout the stretch of the day, Jaehyun had continued with his odd, dilapidated behaviour which brought you to the paramount of confusion, irritation, and inadmissible fluster. You could quite confidently assume that his sudden coquetry as you made a turn around the garden, his uncalled for compliments and comparisons, was to prove his insistence that he did, in fact, enjoy a little tease.

Gentlemanly yet competitive, you took note. He is such a character.

Jaehyun only stopped when you admitted defeat right before sunset, but you defended that your initial perception of him had still yet to change because he was still as contradictingly confluent as he was during your first meeting, and you were sure that it would never change. Confusing enough, he visibly dampened when you made him know of it, and you did not understand what was there to be disappointed about. Was he that bent on changing your idea of him? But you assured that your idea of him was nothing but agreeable.

It followed you until dinner with the three men, and by then, you had not the slightest idea that all it took to completely silence one Johnny Suh was a Jung Jaehyun. The reason why, you did not know and you did not care. You should invite him as often as you could.

“I sincerely apologize for my daughter calling you here under the guise of an injury,” your father sent you a berating stare through his glasses, the rhythmic sounds of knives and spoons and forks and plates filling in between the gaps of the conversation. “I hope it has not troubled you so, Jaehyun.”

“What would have been so troubling, papa?” you spoke up, switching your concentration into someone else. “Is Roselake not such a welcoming place, Jaehyun?”

“Well, I have only toured as far as your estate, so I have none much to say regarding the entire village. But you see I have this belief that a part greatly represents that of the whole,” a charming smile was flashed. “If Whitland is already this captivating, then Roselake might be all as well.”

There was a cough from the other side of the table— Johnny— and it stirred Jaehyun’s and your father’s concern. He assured the two that he was fine, but you didn’t fail to catch his expression— one that he always wore when held knowledge of something you did not know of. You opted to fish information from him after dinner.

“Such a well-spoken and well-mannered boy,” your father hummed, reaching out for a dish on the table. Jaehyun politely passed it to him. “Do stay as long as you wish, son. There is no such thing as overstaying your welcome here at Whitland.”

“Oh, sir. I simply cannot abuse your hospitality.”

“Nonsense!” it was a familiar reckoning— your father’s remark. Jaehyun now knew where your persistence came from. “You would not have travelled all the way here if it were not for Y/N’s scheming. Please, Mr. Jaehyun. We are very much indebted to you.”

“Jaehyun,” you interrupted, smiling piquantly. “I would love for you to extend your visit until Friday.”

At that juncture, Johnny abruptly stopped his meal after spending the rest of it in silence. He shot you a look, to which you gave the look back. He was not even saying anything yet his peace was enough to be an annoyance. You really needed to have a word with him after this.

“Oh, that is right! We will be holding a ball on that very day, Jaehyun. It would be such a shame for you to miss out an occasion while you are already here.”

Jaehyun opened his mouth in an attempt to refute, but he caught your expectant gaze— the evidence of you looking forward to his attendance stopping him from saying what he had planned on saying. “If that is the case, then I suppose why not.”

“Excellent! You need not worry about your departure, son. I will prepare a carriage for you first thing on the seventh if you need to leave hurriedly.”

“Papa, how about inviting the Lee’s, as well?”

Jaehyun brightened at the mention, and your father was in no objection to accede.

Dinner had come to a close with a pleasant mood, and you went off to chase after Johnny who disappeared into the terrace right as the meal struck to an end. He thought he could run away from you. The nerve. You still had a bone to pick with him.

“Johnny Suh,” you announced your entrance, and he simply sighed without even turning around to acknowledge you. “What was that during dinner?”

That being, but not limited to, his constant, incisive stares directed to Jaehyun, his uncharacteristic quietness, and of course the moment he coughed in the middle of the scene which would have been dispensed by you if it were not for that irksome, knowing look on his face quite immediately after.

“Why do you not join Jaehyun and your father in the lounge?” he dodged.

“They are talking about farming," you grimaced. "Your presence is more welcomed than that. But anyhow—” you huffed, taking a stance right beside him. He was leaning against the railings in such an easy manner that annoyed you to bits. “Why do you not tell me what you have in mind?”

A moment of silence. He smiled at you knowingly.

“I have faith that you would know in due time.”

What?

“Johnny, I do not—”

“Moving on,” he brushed you off. You glared indignantly. The absolute nerve. “Hwayoung and Jaehyun?”

Ah.

Your eyes twinkled, your temper subsided. He looked at you with curiosity. You pursed your lips into a smile. “A good match, are they not? I believe this would be my greatest one yet,” you confidently declared and you had expected him to agree, to provide support despite his disagreements towards your pursuits as he usually did, but all you got from him was a painfully insulting laugh; sounding nothing but impertinent ridicule. If murder were not a crime, you would have pushed him off the balcony at that very instant.

“Miss Y/N, take this advice from a friend,” he breathed out in between chortles, needing to switch around his position as he was nearly stumbling in his own twisted amusement. “Do rethink your decisions. I am confident that this match will not go the way as you are used to.”

“Dear John,” you spat, venom lacing in each utterance. “You and I both know that I am miles closer with each of them than you are, I am more sympathetic towards the emotions of others than you are, and therefore it is not impetuous for me to conclude that I am a more fitting judge to this match’s success than you are.”

“And that is exactly where you fail.”

You blew a hot breath, appalled. Was he simply doing this to prove his superiority? To gravel you to the ends of the earth with a much more severe attempt?

“I am not saying to challenge you, Y/N. Do as you wish, I assure you that I will not go against,” he stated, ready to make his leave, walking from the railings to the terrace door, and your eyes followed him all the way through. Though before he left, he made sure to make one last testimony. “But do know that there are some things that can only be seen from afar.”

It was safe to say that this was the second night that you had not managed to fall asleep, but this time was for a different reason. That being the fact that Johnny’s words ceaselessly, obnoxiously echoed inside the taverns of your head like a damned curse in frequent enough episodes to drive to the very brink of insanity.

You were about to go insane— proven by the fact that you were quite literally mumbling to yourself inside the public space of Roselake Tailler Shop.

“That man speaks nonsense! Nothing but utter, indisputable, ridiculous nonsense! He thinks he’s sharper than me for simply being a few years older, when really he is none the wiser! Gosh, that stupendously arrogant—”

“Miss Y/N?”

A soft voice broke through. Dear lord, how you have forgotten.

Prior to your episode of madness, you had shoved Jaehyun into the hands of the dressmaker to fit his suit for tomorrow’s ball. It was on quite a short notice, but luckily you were acquainted with the owner, and that she already had a select few that suited Jaehyun’s frame and face with only a few alterations needed. Now, Jaehyun had emerged from the back of the shop, donning a dark tailcoat, cravat in a stylish ruffle, and bottoms that perfectly accentuated his tall height. You had nearly forgotten all your distresses from earlier.

“Is this all right?”

Yes, he was absolutely dashing, but could he please momentarily keep it down for the sake of your gradually withering rationality?

“My god, Jaehyun. That is by far the most foolish thing that I have ever heard you say.”

You marched up to him, evading the rolls of cloth and stands that littered the place, up until you found yourself standing right before him. His cravat was in a slight mess, and so you silently took it upon yourself to fix it, not realizing that you were far too close for Jaehyun’s comfort. You did not notice the way his eyes widened, the way his breath practically stopped when he could see how your lips pursed in concentration as you were very very close to his face. But what you did notice— albeit only when you looked up for a fleeting second— was that his ears were very much tinged red.

Johnny’s words echoed once more. You squeaked and stumbled away.

He is just poisoning your thoughts, that damned rat.

Unfortunately for you, there was a dress form right behind, and from your stumbling, you had almost fallen over it, setting off a disastrous domino that would have led to an absolute mess inside the shop. But of course that never happened. Jaehyun had not let that happen. He was just in time to catch your fall, arm steadily hooked around your waist, the other swiftly moving to balance the dress form, and his handsome face just as close as ever.

“You seem to have an inclination for situations where you are destined to fall, Miss Y/N.”

Your mind was yet to fully register your current situation, yet your heart was already far too many steps ahead with the sudden flushing of heat, darting of your nerves, and sporadic fluttering of your eyes.

Oh dear god.

With a cough and a huff and a stutter, you hopped back onto your feet. “I—It is not like I deliberately put myself into these situations. I assure you that I am not as clumsy,” you straightened yourself, a stern look on your features, though somewhat forced. Johnny was the cause of this pitfall; had he not rooted those ridiculous notions into your head, this never would have happened. “Please put your hair up on the day of the event.”

He smiled at you. “Ah, I will keep that in mind. Thank you.”

You blamed Johnny for all the palpitations that you have endured and have yet to endure within your presence of this deadly man.

Easy, Y/N, easy, you inwardly sighed as the both of you finally left the shop, entering the main streets of the village. The tailor said that his suit was to be delivered later in the day. Everything will fall into place by tomorrow— this is simply a test of your fortitude.

Your assurance was generously granted as you and Jaehyun strolled through the streets of Roselake on the way back to your estate, because in every side and every corner, from passersby and lingerers, people seem to have been magnetized towards your companion. You smugly smiled in voluminous pride. A head turner was he indeed, though he seemed to pay no attention to the stray stares. It was either he didn’t know or he didn’t care, but you were granted to believe that the former was far too unlikely.

“Jaehyun,” you roused. “Are you aware of the attention that you’re garnering?”

“I am aware that people have been looking this way since earlier,” he sent a polite smile to a nearby group of young ladies that were sitting at the side, right before bringing his attention back to you. With how the rays of gold were showering atop his dark hair, highlighting all the high points of his face, one might believe that even the sun was magnetized by him. “But I believe it is you that they are looking at, Miss Y/N.”

You laughed. “Please do not impart with me your false modesty, Jaehyun. Even a child is enamoured by you.”

“You are far too kind.”

At the suggestion, a little girl had walked up to him along with her sister— Miss Hana, you had recognized. It was an endearing exchange, Jaehyun and the little girl, and though you were willing to wait, Jaehyun had cut the acquaintanceship short, much to Miss Hana’s dismay. Perhaps it was not only the little girl that was enamoured.

“It is simply the truth, yet you insist on pretending,” you sighed, lamenting. He only chuckled in response, striding beside you as you crossed the busy street. “I can already see it, Jaehyun. Almost everybody at the ball tomorrow will be wondering who is this esteemed gentleman that Miss Y/N L/N had brought along to Roselake. Why, dozens will be vying for your favour.” It was unusually crowded today, possibly due to the event tomorrow. All of Roselake was to be invited, after all.

“It is nice, but I do not necessarily seek the good favour of everyone around me. Your father, your good friend Johnny, Mr. Jeon, and you, Miss Y/N,” a horse carriage interrupted your walk, the vehicle passing just inches away from your side. Jaehyun gallantly pulled you away, his hand on the small of your back, and it elicited a quiet gasp from your part. You landed on his chest, and he looked you in the eye. “It is your good favour that I deem more important than those of a nameless dozen.”

Had you not been devoted to your pursuits, you as well would have been enamoured. He did not care about making a good impression on others, but unconsciously he is doing so.

You quietly thanked him, pushing yourself away once the street was once again cleared. “That you need not to worry about, Jaehyun, because I have assured you many times already. We must hurry if we wish to return to Whitland before sunset; there are still plenty of preparations, after all.”

The evening of the sixth was as lively as the stars in the sky.

Whitland estate was not shy of inviting guests, and just as you had anticipated, almost if not all of Roselake have welcomed themselves into your manor. Visitors and guests flooded inside the ballroom and out, the gardens and yards littered with the jubilant merriness of conversations and introductions. You gratifyingly smiled as you stood at the center of the ballroom, underneath the striking chandelier, and you greeted people as they came and went. The current guest being Mrs. Qian— who lended a generous hand in preparation for the ball.

“You have always had an eye for the littlest details. It is quite thanks to you that the mood is pleasantly heightened,” you said with great praise, yet your former governess simply laughed it off in modesty.

“Dear Y/N, none would be merry making right now if you had not designed the entire event,” she rebounded, the liquid in her glass swaying in tune with her movements. “You are most fitting to be the lady of the house, Y/N. All that is left is to marry, but of course, you have no plans in doing so.”

“I need not a man to run the estate, Madam,” you mused, not adding anything further thanks to a new presence arriving. “Oh, Mr. Qian.”

You humbly bowed, and he followed suit with a drawing smile before he took place beside his wife. “I apologize, Miss Y/N, but allow me to seize my wife for a moment.”

“No apologies needed, sir. You are very much inclined to do with her as you please.”

Your teasing remark elicited a hearty laugh from the couple, and right after they disappeared into the crowd. It was quite strange how unaffected you had become to your dear friend and governesses’ marriage despite being wholly wrapped in grief only a week ago, but perhaps it was about time that you had come to its acceptance. You were very happy for the two’s union, and happier when it was, of course, orchestrated by your command. You could not have thought of a better ending for the both of them.

Moments later, you had retired to a separate room which was far quieter primarily because there was a dance going about. You would have joined, but there were not enough willing men who wanted to partake, and that at every second there seemed to be a guest that wanted your conversation. You had just sent away Mr. and Miss Yoon because the daughter’s father could not stay up for too late, and despite it being already hours into the ball, you had still yet to meet Jaehyun or Hwayoung.

Perhaps they found themselves to each other, you jokingly thought as you readied to come inside once again. No matter how unlikely, that instance is still very much welcomed.

Just was you crossed the frame of the open door, a voice called out to you.

“Miss Y/N!”

It was impossible to hold back a smile.

“Oh, Miss Y/N! Oh, how I missed you so!” in came Hwayoung running into your chest as she buried herself in a tight, gripping embrace. You laughed, caressing the crown of her head while she went on with her declarations of much she longed to see you while she was away. She turned her head up, a blooming excitement on her face.

“My sweet blossom!” it was against your better judgement how you decided to squeeze her plump cheeks in between your palms, planting a tender kiss on her forehead. You really could not help but to coddle the younger girl. “Are you well? Was the trip pleasant? Oh, I should have sent over one of our carriages so you’d been of best comfort.”

She managed somewhat of a response, though it was barely coherent (“ish okay!” she tried to say, but at least you understood). Prying your hands away from her face, she beamed at you, excitingly swinging your arms back and forth. “I am very happy to be back again!”

You smiled at her fondly. “I am very happy to have you back again as well, Hwayoung. Come, let us get inside.”

As you two passed by the many guests with Hwayoung clinging onto your arm, she had told you how it was like at the boarding school— her storytellings had always been convoluted, going back and forth from one scene to another, which was a fitting reflection of her bright and youthful nature. Though, when the both of you squeezed past the energetic dancers, the topic had shifted; and you more than welcomed the change of subject.

“Miss Y/N,” she started, a large, curious smile on her face as she talked. “I had been talking to Miss Hana as I walked toward the manor— oh! This was before I managed to find you— well anyway. She had told me that you had been acquainted with such a handsome gentleman while I was away! She says that he is more handsome and agreeable than Mr. Taeyong Lee which I found really surprising because Mr. Lee is quite the most dashing fellow I have ever seen! Is it true? Did you really meet such a man?”

Hwayoung looked at you with her big, round eyes with such an adoring enthusiasm that you could not help but release a chuckle.

“One at a time, one at a time,” you tapped her nose. “I cannot say whether he is more handsome than Mr. Lee,” you smiled, “I will leave you the judge of that, Hwayoung”

“Oh my, Miss Y/N!” she gasped. “Are you allowing me to meet him?”

“If that is what you wish, then who am I to say no?”

“I would love to, Miss Y/N! I should better express my thanks to him as he kept you company while I was away, even if it was only for short. I could only imagine how devastated you must have been with Miss— oh rather, Mrs. Qian marrying. You were not too lonely, were you, Miss Y/N? Oh, I do hope not; the very thought makes me so sad because Miss Y/N is far too great of a deal to ever feel sorrow.”

You did not have the heart to tell her that you had indeed been inflicted by troubles. You had many acquaintances considering your status in society, and you have indeed busied yourself with the company of Miss Jihye Kang from Hartlace, and sometimes even Mr. Renjun Huang whenever you were sick of the emptiness of your drawing room. At one point you had even invited Mr. Jaemin Na to your estate— which was quite unheard of because once the public had made news of you and him being in the same space, rumors were sure to arise and you simply found it far too cumbersome to deal with for the mere sake of having company.

Yet despite all these many acquaintances, none could take the familial position of Mrs. Qian’s wit and wisdom, nor could they rival the fondness of your dearest Hwayoung. It was blasphemy to even compare. But you didn’t have the heart to admit this to the girl.

Well, a thought flickered. There is one.

“Miss Y/N?”

“Oh, not at all, Hwayoung,” you flashed her a smile. “Come, let me introduce you to him.”

Jaehyun believed that he was struck with bad luck the moment he had entered the ballroom, because somehow, despite all of the odds (that were quite frankly stacked against him), there was not an instance where he had caught you alone. You were always with a person or two, never by yourself.

Was he to suffer the entire night?

“Miss Y/N—” you were skewed away by a Miss Kwon.

“Ah, Miss Y/N—” Donghyuck had decided that it was the perfect time to drag you into a dance.

“Miss—” he could not interrupt while you were so amiably conversing with a couple, could he?

He could not.

Once again, he could only sigh as he witnessed your retreating frame, presumably accommodating two of the guests who were ready to make their leave for tonight. He could not even garner the chance of telling you how beautiful you looked in burgundy and gold. He had come to accept that he will never get the chance to tell you.

“This is not an event of frowns, Jaehyun. Are you not enjoying the party?”

Mark, who was alone at the moment as the rest of his brothers were running about, had come to approach his evidently despondent friend with a drink in hand. If he could read his friend’s thoughts, which he could not, he would be able to hear him lamenting over the fact that he even styled his hair up tonight just as you had asked him to (with the assistance of Johnny, of course. The two got along quite well). You would not even be able to see it.

“I am just tired, Mark. No need to worry,” he pressed his lips into a thin smile. “And you?”

“Very much so!” he nodded. “Donghyuck seems to be in his element here, and Jeno has finally come out to join a few others after hiding behind the statues and pillars— Miss Y/N’s earnestness managed to force him out of his shell and— oh!”

Mark lit up in the middle of his thoughts, while Jaehyun only dampened at the mention of your name. Even Jeno had an opportunity to talk to you.

“Please do send our thanks to Miss Y/N for inviting us here! And of course, my gratitude is with you as well, Jaehyun. If Miss Y/N did not like you as much, then I believe we would not even be—”

“What?”

If Miss Y/N did not what?

“What are you saying, Mark. Miss Y/N simply views me as a friend.”

Mark knitted his brows in confusion.

“Oh, does she? Did I misunderstand? I thought she fancied you, really. She would not have called for your presence all the way here, in Whitland, in such a short and desperate notice if she did. Even insisting on your extended stay,” he drank from the glass, shrugging. “But I suppose I was mistaken.”

“Uh—” arranging his thoughts and words in a coherent manner was quite impossible considering his physical state and state of mind— his usual tells being reflected by his ears and Mark did not fail to notice but he remained quiet as he waited for Jaehyun to operate again. But out of further misfortune because his bad steak still had not yet come to an end, he saw you, unmistakably so, approaching him from a distance

The one time he wished not to confront you had to be the time that you decided to confront him.

Fate be damned.

“Jaehyun?”

He sped off in a rush and panic that hesitation could not even catch up.

Mark could not comprehend his friend’s sudden actions, but he could not go after him because at that very moment, you had decided to show up right in front of him.

“Was that Mr. Jung just now?”

Hwayoung asked, confused. You answered her, just as confused. “Indeed. I’ve no idea as to why he ran away, though. Mark?” your eyes flicked to the by who seemed to be in a trance. “Is there a problem with Jaehyun?”

“I’m not too sure either, Miss Y/N,” he answered, still dazed.

“Well,” you clicked your tongue, looking towards the entrance where he disappeared off to. An idea ventured inside your head. An opportunity just presented itself. You looked over to the younger girl. You inwardly smiled. “Hwayoung, would you mind checking up on the lad? He probably went off to the fountain.”

“Oh, should you not be the one to check on your friend, Miss Y/N?”

“Perhaps I had done something to upset him as he ran away the moment I approached,” you sighed in dismay and Hwayoung's expression was tugged down into a frown. “I believe it would be best if I leave him for the time being. But I do not wish to simply fester his constitution further.”

A look of concern shrouded Hwayoung. “Oh dear, that is most unfortunate! Would you like me to talk to him, Miss Y/N? To find out why he might have not wished to see you?”

“Such a kind girl, but there is no need,” you lifted your hand to her head in an affectionate pat, smiling. “I ask you to be in place of me, dearest. Your social gallantry will be sure to bring his spirits up.”

“Are you sure, Miss Y/N? Would it be all right to leave you alone?”

“Mark shall keep me company,” you beamed in assurance, grabbing the unsuspecting boy by the arm, who flushed scarlet at your sudden action. “You may go, Hwayoung.”

Now ascertained, Hwayoung nodded in determination. “Understood! I will be sure that Mr. Jung Jaehyun returns to Hollybrook without any misery or grief. Then I will be off, Miss Y/N!”

You sent her off with the fondest expression that you could ever manage. Mark was about to ask you of something, but the boy was far too slow to speak a syllable because not long after Hwayoung’s departure, you discreetly went off as well to follow her with a considerable enough distance as to not be noticed. Intrusive inquisitiveness was not your proudest trait, but you could not help yourself.

There, through the window, you watched as Jaehyun and Hwayoung animatedly conversed under the shining moonlight, and a smile stretched by triumph displayed on your features. You did not miss the way Jaehyun's eyes disappeared mid laugh from something she had said. It was far too impossible to not love a lovable girl such as Hwayoung. Things had been going just as you had predicted as the two seemed to be enjoying each other’s company, but of course your judgements were always correct. It was inconvenient that you couldn’t hear what they were conversing, but knowing their more than pleasing introduction to each other would suffice for now.

Introduction meant acquaintanceship, and acquaintanceship to friendship. All knew what came after next.

The morning after the ball, all the guests including Jaehyun, Hwayoung, and the Lee’s have left Whitland with as much pleasure as when they have arrived. You had not woken early enough to interrogate either of your two subjects on the happenings of last night, and therefore you had arranged a tea party with the both of them at their earliest convenience— which happened to be Wednesday of the next week.

It was for tea on the invitation, but of course you had other motives at hand. Johnny simply ridiculed you when you had told him. That was to be expected, but you only told him because you were determined to prove him wrong.

“She is quite the beauty, is she not? well-mannered too.”

You took a small sip from the teacup, eyes following the excitable girl as she collected flowers from the shrubs as you had instructed. It was at the back garden that you had arranged the small gathering. Hwayoung was not fond of tea so she went off to gather flowers for a new drawing of hers. You knew that of course. How could you not. You specifically settled for a tea party because Hwayoung would have still chosen to come, though she would simply not join you. That was the perfect opportunity to figure out what kind of opinion Jaehyun had for the girl.

Perhaps Hwayoung had noticed your stare, so she momentarily stopped picking the fresh blooms to send a bright smile and wave to your direction. You returned the gesture with an air of fondness.

“Although I have to say— she is a tad slow and air headed at times. But rather it adds more to her charm than making it fall short,” with a clang, you replaced the porcelain onto the saucer. “Do you not think so, Jaehyun?”

No answer. Your eyes flickered over to the boy.

“Jaehyun?”

“O-oh! Yes— uhm,” his gaze wavered, visibly startled unlike his usual disposition. His ears were pink. A shameful pink. As pink as the carnations decorating the table. Your curiosity was drawn. It was a relief that him running away from you during the ball was only a one time occurrence; you were afraid that he wouldn’t take your invite, but surprisingly he answered with much promptness and without any complaints or excuses. “I apologize, Miss Y/N. I admit that your words were not completely received by me.”

Your lips quirked upwards. That was easier than you had thought. “It is all right. Enjoying the scenery, perhaps?”

“The scenery,” he coughed out. “Indeed. A lovely scenery, indeed.”

“Is such a sight present in Hollybrook?”

“Unfortunately and quite fortunately not,” Jaehyun replied, the blush that had been painting his fair skin now fading but not completely subsiding, and his usual, dimpled smile taking place with an air of charm. “Such a sight can only be seen here.”

The smile on your face grew triumphantly wider, and your eyes directed back to the flower-picking Hwayoung, who had already filled the basket to the near brim. The summer leaves fell perfectly into place and you needed not to even intervene. It was only a matter of time until another successful match was to bloom thanks to your favor.

“As expected. Then I shall leave you to admire the scenery further, Jaehyun.”

He simply nodded, but you weren't looking at him to see.

Unbeknownst to you, Jaehyun's attention had been long riveted to the same spot ever since. He simply wondered how long it would take for you to notice.

To say that the next few days were eventful would be an understatement.

Your determination in getting them together alone in contrast with Jaehyun and Hwayoung’s insistence in keeping your company did not come into confluence, much to your frustrations and disheartenment. They are very clearly enraptured by each other— you were not amiss to the smiles they shared, to their heightened enthusiasm for the others’ presence, and the confirmation that you sought for was already given by Jaehyun during your time at the garden. But if they were far too shy to take their steps towards each other, you were left to take it upon yourself to string them together under the impression of destined, fated coincidence.

Today was also one of your devices.

“Mr. Jaehyun, I am very honored to be bestowed upon an opportunity to make a round in your lovely farm— granted it is my first time to visit one, but Hollybrook is a very refreshing spot to visit around the summer! I might have to schedule another trip here,” Hwayoung revelled in the natures of the area in the countryside, as she and Jaehyun strolled along the dirt path underneath the shade of the tall trees.

Jaehyun mirrored the younger girl’s smile. “I am glad that you think so, Miss Hwayoung. But it is quite a coincidence that we have been frequently running into each other as of late,” though welcomed, he had not expected Hwayoung’s arrival, as it was fully unannounced.

“Oh, but it is for sure such a delighting coincidence!” she beamed. “Miss Y/N and I were supposedly meeting here today, but quite unfortunately and on such a short and sudden notice, Mr. Johnny had come to visit. Poor Miss Y/N really did wish to come.”

Wait a minute.

Jaehyun stopped walking. “Miss Y/N asked for you to come here?”

“Why, yes. I had already departed when Mr. Jeon came and made news to me that she was not to come anymore. Oh, did you perhaps wish to see her? I believe she would not mind an unannounced visit if it is from you, Mr. Jaehyun.”

Miss Y/N had declined his letter of visiting Whitland earlier today, saying that she had somewhere to be.

Hwayoung had grown concerned at her companion’s sudden silence, but Jaehyun was yet to be ready to resurface from his thoughts. He was aware that this had not been the first time you had brushed him off, that you had deliberately made way to erase yourself from the narrative just so he and Hwayoung would be alone. Many a times have you invited him over only to be met by your absence, times that you left in a hurry over reasons that were questionable yet he did not choose to question. He was neither blind nor stupid nor unaware.

He simply did not linger for he cared too greatly about your opinion.

Even when that opinion was evidently unreciprocated.

“Mr. Jaehyun, did I say something wrong?”

But even if that was the case—

“Miss Hwayoung,” he started. Hwayoung was surprised by the sudden volume and seriousness of his voice. “I am afraid I must take my leave.”

“You slithering snake.”

Johnny simpered, looking you in the eye as he toppled over your King on the chessboard.

“It appears you still have a long way to go, Miss Y/N.”

You were starting to regret your decision of inviting Johnny over for a game of chess, but it was a very much needed excuse in order to make sure that everything was to work. From your calculations, Hwayoung was probably with Jaehyun at Hollybrook right now, as Mr. Jeon had already earlier in the afternoon from his task of making her know of your absence. You did not enjoy lying to any extent, only bending situations into your favor, which is why you were led to the very invite that you were oh so desperately trying not to regret.

This was the third game that finished with your defeat, and this was definitely not the last as you two decided to set up the chessboard once again. You were far too stubborn for a defeat. “Please,” you scoffed, lining up the pawns indignantly. “I have far too many thoughts running about inside my head at the moment, and it is not to my surprise that you have won this game by chance. I will win the next one.”

“Y/N, we have played chess many times in the past and never once have you won against me. But it is all right. I will pretend for the sake of your satisfaction,” he codded. “Do some of those thoughts involve Mr. Jaehyun and Miss Hwayoung, perhaps?”

“A grave majority, Johnny. Not some.”

“Well,” he had a rook wedged between two of his fingers, his chin resting on the same hand as he looked at you smugly. You rolled your eyes in preparation for whatever ridiculous chide he had in mind. “From that statement alone, then I assume that your plans are not going as smoothly as you would like.”

You scoffed, raising a brow at him. It appeared that the next game was already to be postponed.

“Quite the contrary, actually,” you refuted, taking the fallen knight into your hands. “The past few days have been going exactly in my favour. Before you make any hasty conclusions, Johnny, I suggest that you see how the two are undeniably so perfectly enraptured in each other’s company. Hwayoung had always looked forward whenever Jaehyun was announced to be visiting, and Jaehyun had always been especially attentive to the girl. And my, and this very moment, they might already be professing their ardor for each other, just about—”

“Lady Y/N.”

The doors to the drawing room swung open, prompting your attention. Mr. Kim had made a sudden entrance.

“A Mr. Jung Jaehyun.”

You dropped the knight to the floor. A hollow sound echoed inside the room.

“Well,” Johnny hummed and you abruptly turned to face him, eyes widened. “Are you still to continue with your speech?”

You did not, for there were no words that your throat could manage.

The clattering of your heels through the empty hall, the tranquil air of the clear afternoon sky, and the faint brustling of the wind through the opened windows did not resemble the thundering storm of disorder that you carried inside your head as you chased towards the manor’s entrance.

Mr. Kim took much effort in running after you because your pace and temperament was just as fast as the throbbing of your heart that rang inside your ears like a tempest coming to whisk you away. You were wildering.

“Lady Y/N, please wait a moment. Please—”

You pushed the doors open without a moment to waste.

And there stood, a mere few meters away, was Jung Jaehyun.

What could he possibly be here for?

“Jaehyun, what are you— why are you here? Were you not with Hwayoung? What are you—”

“Miss Y/N, it is with great displeasure that I admit that I perhaps am not worthy of your good merit seeing as you are quite in shock and disappointed from my untimely arrival— but I am afraid that I cannot hold it off any longer,” he was breathless as he spoke, and he spared no breath for you to release either as within seconds of his speech, he took his place before you, clutching both of your hands, desperate and rattled, and you could feel it through his pulsing veins. “Therefore before I begin, I would like to ask for your permission.”

You looked up to him, eyes wide and tongue tied. His chest was rising in falling, heaving during the moment of brief pause, and you could not even bear to uncover the emotions running in troubling circles in his dark eyes. You nodded wordlessly. He swallowed.

“I am not as naive as you may believe me to be.”

You could hear your heart pounding.

“I hope that you would not be too gravely burdened by the next words that I am to say— that would be the least of my desires. Instead, I would rather you be freed from the burdens that you have been carrying onto yourself since the moment we first met. Would you like to hear it, Miss Y/N?”

Once again, you nodded.

“I like you.”

For a brief moment, you felt yourself slipping away, or so you thought because once again you were met by the reality of Jaehyun’s fervent confession as he was still holding into your hands with no less desperation as he had since the very first second. It was difficult to breathe at that point. He too, was experiencing the same, but that did not stop him from pouring all the depths of his senseless sensibilities, out of regret that he did not do so earlier.

“However I do not wish for you to be afflicted by affections as heavy as mine, because the mere fact that you are not turning away from my touch—”

There was a pause. Your eyes followed how he lifted your hands to his lips, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss on your knuckles with enough warmth to send your entire being ablaze. He looked at you. How he had never stopped looking at you.

“—is enough to satisfy my yearning heart for now. Good day, Miss Y/N. I bid you well.”

And with that, he left. He left, but not without leaving a memory of him behind closed eyes.

I like you.

It rang inside your head.

I like you.

Once more, it rang.

I like you.

It rang until you were already underneath your covers, the moonlight leaking into the window, but you could not sleep because closing your eyes would mean the recollection of Jaehyun’s ever enchanting visage as he repeated those words in your head until you became sick of it.

Jaehyun liked you. Not Hwayoung. You.

It did not make sense.

Did you mistake his kindness, courteousness, and attentive generosity as something it is not? You had been wrong? That was impossible. He had been far too kind, courteous, and attentive to Hwayoung for you to perceive it as anything else. There was always a special kind of thoughtfulness when he uttered a word to her, presented by his moments of contemplation just before making his utterance. A kind of thoughtfulness that you had only seen in gentlemen who wanted to assert a good impression on someone they liked, yet he decided that he liked you instead of her, which the very idea carried a great amount of absurdity because not once had you caught a subtle hint, even a mere glimpse from him that he carried such— such ineffable feelings for you. He never showed that he did

“Did he?”

Would you have been this heavily affected if he had not?

The moon outside your window had been calling you to sleep, and you deduced that it was about time that you did. You only hoped that your dwellings would cease to transpire in line with the moon, but the opposite occurred, because when the sun had come to rise, so did its never ending repetitions which you had finally come to terms with.

Jaehyun liked you.

This new mantra stretched until early noon, and Hwayoung had come to visit, just before it had started to rain.

And at that very moment— as you both sat in the middle of the drawing room— it occurred to you.

What about Hwayoung?

“Miss Y/N, you never told me that Hollybrook was such an enjoyable farm!” the girl gushed in such a cheerful radiance that contrasted your own casket-ready appearance. How were you to break the news to the poor girl? “The meadows and fields were all so very pretty and— oh! I had met with Mr. Jaehyun for a very brief moment, but he had to leave for reasons I do not know. He seemed to be very shaken, yes, so I assume it was urgent, but I do not hold it against him that he rushed to leave. He is a kind fellow, and how lucky was I that Mr. Lee— the eldest Mr. Lee— was there to—”

“Hwayoung.”

She stopped talking, taking notice of your grey countenance, dazed and unfocused, and she immediately grew worried.

“Yesterday—” you breathed in. “Yesterday a very puzzling thing happened.”

“Oh my, what could it possibly be to have troubled you so much, Miss Y/N?”

“Jaehyun came by.”

Hwayoung’s mouth dropped, pleasantly surprised. “Really? Is that why he left yesterday? Oh, what did he—”

“He says he likes me.”

There was silence. You drew in a deep, regretful breath. “Hwayoung, I—”

A squeal.

“He— he says he likes you? Mr. Jaehyun? He likes you?” she repeated it just as many times as it haunted you leaving you unable to speak or even think for that matter. “Miss Y/N, oh my— oh my, this is—!”

Your younger friend was practically bouncing in her seat from the joy and celebration but you did not understand. Heartache and sighs and despondency— that was what you had expected. But the response that she came up with was enough to somewhat bring you back to your senses.

“Hold on, should you not be upset?” Hwayoung deemed the confused bewilderment crawling onto your face ill-suited for disposition. She grew confused as well. The gap between you and her as you sat across each other seemed far wider than it actually was.

“Huh?” she blinked, cocking her head. “Why should I be upset when this is wonderful news?”

“He says he likes me and not you!”

The volume of your cry caused her to flinch, and you gasped, covering your mouth with your fingers. “Do you— do you not like him?”

“Why, should I not be the one to ask you that?”

“You do not like him?”

“Miss Y/N, you are being rather confusing right now.”

You blinked, mouth hung open in shock. You were wrong. Very wrong. You could not have been more wrong in your life.

“Mr. Jaehyun is a very nice, very good looking, very agreeable man, but I do not like him in the way that I believe you are asking. Not at all,” Hwayoung politely replied, her hands resting on her lap. You had only realized now that the rain had grown stronger. “I do not like him, But you, Miss Y/N.”

Your eyes flickered up to meet hers.

“Do you?”

Did you like him?

It was a difficult question, far more difficult than anything you had ever encountered because you had never— not in your twenty-one years of life— liked anyone in a way that Hwayoung had suggested. How were you to know something you feel when you have never actually felt it? How were you to be sure that this feeling is actually romantic when your emotions themselves cannot judge it? Perhaps this was why you had misjudged Jaehyun and Hwayoung’s opinion on each other; in actuality, you knew nothing of love. You simply did not know.

“Do I like him?”

“Oh dear, why are you asking me, Miss Y/N? It is you that should know the answer.”

But you did not

How did Mr. and Mrs. Qian come to know that it should be each other that they were destined to marry? How did your father come to realize that it was he and your mother that were meant to be? All these people knew what they were feeling, knew who their hearts were set out to, but you—

“Miss Y/N, what are— oh my!”

“Hwayoung.”

All of a sudden, you leapt from your chair and onto the floor right before the poor, startled girl without much of a warning for her to be prepared. You knelt right in front of her, quickly snatching her hands and placing the right on top of the left side of your chest. You looked at her with so much conviction and earnestness that she had no choice but to go along.

“Is my heart beating fast?”

“Yes,” she stuttered. “Quite fast.”

“Hwayoung.”

You had wasted no time to transfer her hands to your face, pressing both of her palms onto your cheeks.

“Is my face getting hot?”

“Yes, quite hot. You are getting quite— wait,” she knitted her brows in dumbfounded perplexity. “Miss Y/N, is this a physical examination? Are you feeling okay? Should I—”

Once more, you had changed the position, with you now holding her hands tightly on top of her lap. Hwayoung stared at you, wide eyed, and perhaps waiting for the next question that you were about to ask.

“Hwayoung.”

You started.

“Could you ask me who I am thinking of?”

“Who…” she echoed, slowly and surely. “Who are you thinking of?”

“Jaehyun.”

You answered at once, looking at her, but your eyes felt like they were looking elsewhere. The rain continued to fall— stronger than when it had started.

“I am thinking of Jaehyun.”

It was against your better judgement to run into the wind, rain, and mud with nothing but two thin layers, but all your judgements thus far have been proven to be false anyway, so who was to say that you were wrong? Hwayoung had called out to you to return to the manor, but you were already far too lost in your thoughts, and too far for your ears to hear because you had already slipped past the gates of Whitfield to your unprompted journey to Hollybrook.

It did not matter if your hem was six inches stained with mud, if you were wet, disheveled, or far beyond propriety’s sake, because all that mattered was for you to tell him about your far too late realization that you, more than you could quite possibly know, liked him.

Him. Jung Jaehyun.

And so you ran through the dampened dirt path, past the daises and all the trees and the linings until you were met by the looming visage of the farm house, breathlessly standing before the fence, until your eyes landed on the familiar figure of a boy sitting underneath the porch, who immediately stood up upon seeing you from a distance.

He was looking at you.

And you were looking at him.

There were no words nor time wasted when he ran up to you, fighting against the onslaught of raindrops to swing open the fence gate, grab you by the arm, and lead you inside the house where the rain was no longer. He sat you on the sofa while he went off to get something to dry you off with, and when he returned, a large cloth towel offered to you, he turned over to the unlit fireplace to start the fire. You had not even realized that you were shaking.

“Miss Y/N, I have not the slightest idea on what is your motivation for running into the rain and mud despite the risk of catching a cold,” he started with a sigh, back faced towards you as he crouched before the now kindled furnace. “But unfortunately if it is the Lee’s that you have business with, they have sadly left for a wedding in Oldham just this morning. I am sorry that your journey to Hollybrook has led to such a waste—”

“No,” you said. “Not a waste at all seeing as you are here.”

He stood up, turning around. The rain was muffled inside the walls of the house, so he could very clearly hear what you had just said.

“Jaehyun, I—”

You felt yourself withering under his stare when you looked up to talk to him, words choked up inside your throat because of his appearance; his hair, face, and skin drenched from running into the rain because of you, yet even with the disheveledness of his constitution, still nothing could compare. You pressed your lips tightly in guilt.

“I have been very, very stupid.”

“Please do not speak ill of yourself, Miss Y/N. You are—”

“I am!” your outburst caused him to flinch, the crackling of the hearth filling the momentary silence. “I am possibly— no, without a doubt the most foolish, stubborn, and idiotic person that you are most unfortunate enough to like because not only was I blind to the feelings that you garnered for me, I was also blind to the feelings of my own.”

He almost doubted the next words that fell from your lips.

“Jaehyun, I like you.”

He had to take a moment.

“Perhaps— perhaps I mistook my admiration for you as simply pragmatic because I had never, for the life of me, harbored any feelings of the sort but that is besides the point because I was very very wrong. I was wrong about a lot of things,” you were stammering, your usual air of self-reliance unable to be found by Jaehyun's eyes. It was a different disposition. He did not mind either one. “But this time—" your breath wavered. "This time I am more than certain that I like you.”

Somehow the rain kept coming, the fireplace kept crepitating, and Jaehyun spoke after a moment of silence.

“Are you sure?”

You looked at him, blinking, unable to decipher his expression. You let out an incredulous breath.

“After all I have said, that is what you respond with?” you huffed, standing up from your seat and marching up to him with heavy steps. ”Jaehyun, what more do I have to say and prove that I really do— oh!”

Too burdened by your indignation, you did not pay much attention to your surroundings, and this you tripped over your own dress that was given more weight after being soaked in the rain. You fell forward with a shrill scream, and just like the past few instances, Jaehyun had been there to catch you, an arm securing your waist, a hand holding your wrist into the air. Startled, you were fixed on him, and you had only caught the subtle grin on his face of amusement, ever charming and directed to none other than yourself. How had you missed it?

You batted your eyelashes. He intertwined your fingers together.

“Then, I am glad.”

This time, you did not miss the twinkle in his eyes, to which you responded with a flustered dumbfoundedness. Heart racing, you tried to push yourself off of him in mere embarrassment— you had completely forgotten how much of a mess you looked, all wet and muddy. But Jaehyun seemed not to care because the moment you let go of his hand and attempted to back away, he simply pulled you closer to him with a more humored expression. You squeaked when you hit his chest once again with a thud.

“What are you doing?” you exhaled, still dazed. He simply hummed with an airy laugh.

“Something I have been meaning to do for a while now.”

You could not even question. You did not get the chance to ask him what exactly he meant by that, but it was not any more needed because Jaehyun’s answer came in the form of a kiss that snatched the air out of your chest within seconds.

It was sudden, how easily you gave in, how within seconds you found yourself slowly slipping away from his touch, how any semblance of elegance, manner, and respectability was disparaged into nothingness in between tangled limbs, shallow breaths, and feverish lips on the cold, wooden floor that you had fallen onto. You gasped, positioned in between his legs and right onto his chest, pulling away to take a moment to stare at Jaehyun’s face, heated under the glow of the fireplace. He hummed a fluttering smile.

“Are you all right with this, Miss Y/N?” Jaehyun asked, running his fingers down your cheek, falling underneath your chin as he planted yet another kiss without a warning. You breathed out a staggered breath. “If you wish for me to stop, please say it now.”

“Is it not far too late for such a question?”

He mused, his hot breath tickling your skin as he drew near to your neck. “Are you sure?”

“You are such a tease.”

“It was you who refused to believe that I am,” he mumbled in between his wet, fleeting kisses all over your bare neck and chest, hands peeling away at your dress that stuck to your body from the rain and you had done nothing but gasp helplessly underneath him. You held onto the hope that he was giving you a moment to compose yourself, that was until he dipped down in between your thighs. “Must I prove it to you at once?”

“I—”

You had not prevented the moan from slipping past your lips as you unconsciously threw your head back when he started nipping on the skin of your inner thighs, his hot tongue darting over your sensitivity without much to hold back. His darkened eyes flickered over to you. “What was that, Miss Y/N?”

You were unsure how you were to last the entire night.

The rain had stopped when the next morning came.

It was thankful that the Lee’s were not yet to arrive until the afternoon, else they would see you and Jaehyun on the floor, in front of the dead fireplace, a mountain of blankets covering your huddled figures with the early sunlight showering over you from the windows up above. Jaehyun had long woken before you, yet he had not moved an inch as your head had been snugly resting over his arm for the entirety of your slumber.

There was a fond smile on his face as he watched you writhing, wanting to run away from the bright, morning rays in your sleep and he couldn’t help but release a laugh. Your eyes fluttered open momentarily after.

“Good morning,” Jaehyun mumbled into your hair, still half asleep when he decided to rest his large hand on your forehead. “You had not caught a cold, have you?” you stared at him, blinking, detached, until all of a sudden the events of the night prior crashed onto like yesterday's rainfall. Jaehyun figured that you had finally woken up when you let out a gasp of realization and attempted to self-consciously bury yourself under the covers.

“My, you are far more innocent than you presented yourself to be, Miss Y/N,” he chuckled as he caged you in his arms from behind, rendering you unable to run away. You squirmed when he tickled your fevered skin with a million kisses. “You may only run away once I am done with you.”

It was far too early in the morning for you to be breathless. You turned around so you could glare at him.

“I tell you that I like you once and now you believe that you can do with me as you—”

“Twice,” he cut you off with a kiss, noses touching, an annoyingly endearing smile on his face. His skin glowed underneath the streams of light. “You have told me you like me twice.”

You could not bear to continue with your indignancy.

It did not take you more than five seconds to bury yourself in his chest with a sigh, to which Jaehyun welcomed you with a fluttering laugh, gently running his fingers through the disheveled state of your hair. “You know, I was very worried yesterday,” you murmured. “I had not the slightest idea on how to tell dear Hwayoung that her feelings were not reciprocated. Only to find out that there were no feelings in the first place.”

“Y/N.”

You looked up to him.

“How am I to tell you that never once had I felt that your friend had liked me of any sort. I believe all knew that my eyes were set solely on you since the beginning.”

“Was I… the only one who did not know?”

“I believe so.”

A sound of anguish left your lips in the form of a defeated groan, burying yourself further into nonexistence. Had Johnny also known? That would explain everything, then. You could only sigh upon realizing how much of a clueless fool you have been— going after the pursuit of something that was already deemed futile before it even came to exist. You could have kissed Jaehyun earlier if only you were not so dense; his words, his actions, and all of the subtle hints that he had been leaving had clarified themselves to you now. It was ridiculous.

“But now you do, so there is no need to be upset,” he chuckled, brushing away the fallen strands of hair from your face. “Shall I accompany you back to Whitland?”

“No, my father will have your head the moment you step foot into the estate.”

You answered without even batting an eye and thus Jaehyun had to believe that you were being serious. You were serious. Your father would have the entire village after him. “Tomorrow,” you had come to a conclusion. “Can you wait until tomorrow?”

Jaehyun smiled at you, daylight not shying away from kissing his soft features. There was not a sound to be heard inside the near empty house— only the ticking of a grandfather clock and the chirping of birds that flew past the window. It was the most pleasant of mornings.

“I can wait until as long as you wish, Miss Y/N.”

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drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Paths That Lead Home

Yandere Fae!Tooru Oikawa x f!Reader

Synopsis: In returning home for a family reunion, you’re rescued from being lost in the expansive forest behind town forever. The saviour who calls himself Tooru offers to help you make it through the night of awkward small talk and prying relatives, only for a small thing from you in exchange.

a/n: This is my part for the Lovesick server’s October collab, with the theme of Monsters & Mythical Creatures! Be sure to go give the other super awesome stories in this collab a read!!

5.2k words

Warnings + Themes: Dubcon (w/ praise, dry humping, oral [receiving]), alcohol use, stalking, implied captivity, predatory behaviour.

_____

“Have you settled down with anyone yet, dear?”

“How are your studies coming?”

“My, you look exhausted―are you getting enough sleep?”

“Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“Sweetheart, if you’d like I can introduce you to a few people―you’ve got a beautiful personality.”

• • •

God, you hated family reunions.

Somehow your relatives always managed to be so blissfully unaware at the way their words jabbed at your self esteem. Or maybe they were aware, and truly liked seeing the hints of pain flickering across your face at the intrusive and backhanded questions.

Normally you’d be able to stick it out, but tonight’s gathering had truly brought the worst of the worst. Your hometown was small, and word got around quick that a gathering was being hosted in your uncle's home. It was his fault you were being unceremoniously weighed down with such negativity.

It was his fault you had to run from it.

Maybe if he didn’t not-so-subtly wrap an arm around your shoulder, pulling you to the side and whispering, “Why don’t we go somewhere a little more private, sweetie,” you wouldn’t have fled into the forest behind the large abode.

You all but shoved the greatly unwanted attention away, feeling sick to your stomach as you sought fresh air and un-suffocating surroundings.

The sun still hung in the sky, casting a warm orange hue against the clouds as it slowly set for the night. You crossed your arms over each other, hugging your frame in an attempt to stave off the fall chill as you ventured into the forest’s clear cut path.

Ever since you were a child, the stunning natural beauty of the thick woodland area behind the town always amazed you. It offered an escape, a place to restore your innocence in losing yourself with the rustle of the trees, the breathtaking and vibrant colours of untouched nature. You’d venture down the path, and each and every time, you’d return feeling anew. Whatever ailed you upon breaking past the forest wall was casted out of your body as you happily soaked up the calming atmosphere.

Right now, it was exactly what you needed.

You were practically on the verge of tears as your feet carried you out of the house, twigs snapping underneath the soles of your shoes as you drew further away from civilization. The wind blew past you, cold stinging your eyes and making you wince as you hurried into the woodlands.

It was so easy to get lost in the passing surroundings, trees tall and nature alluringly overgrown. It looked almost ethereal, the sight pulling you deeper.

Before you knew it you’d slowed into a walking pace, heart settling in your ribcage, calmed by the refreshing air and secluded space.

But you were no longer on the trail.

Once you sensed a tinge of panic swelling in your chest, you knew it would only serve to make things more difficult, distracting you as you tried to make sense of where you were.

It was fine, you were fine. You’d explored these woods countless times when you were younger. Surely finding your way home wouldn’t be hard. Just head back the way you came, no problem.

The brisk run you took certainly did something for you, a wave of exhaustion sedating nerves that may have you breaking down under the weight of your own self hatred. For getting lost, which would never have happened if you’d refused the invite to your family reunion. Which you would’ve never received if you cut off those toxic relatives the moment you left town.

And now you were trying to go right back to it, because you couldn’t stay in this forest forever, and you’d got the relief you came for.

With the setting sun, it became increasingly tasking to discern the ground you walked upon. Your search for the narrow path yielded nothing as of yet, and you could’ve sworn that you passed by the same cluster of trees three times now.

While before you may have thought you could still be heading in the right direction, the sudden appearance of hills in your way would prove otherwise.

When you turned around, the area you came from looked quite similar, valleys of thick foliage and steep inclines.

It wasn’t reassuring, to say the least.

You had your phone, but upon closer inspection you found that there was no cell service all the way out here. In any normal case it’d just be best to stay where you were and wait for someone to find you. But these woods were greatly unknown, condensed enough where visibility was dangerously limited, and screams for help would be muffled with the bush.

Your only option was to keep moving forward, and pray that you’d find your way out somehow.

Travelling across the landscape was slow―you fearful of losing your balance on the uneven terrain. The last thing you needed was a sprained ankle, and so you treaded carefully up and down the hills. Nothing that met your eyes was recognizable. With the natural light dimming fast, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you would have to pull out the flashlight on your phone.

When your searching eyes landed upon a flickering light in the distance, you didn’t know whether the feeling of shock or gratitude was more powerful.

Almost blindly, you made your way towards the beacon of light. You watched as it grew brighter, and the closer you got, more gleaming appeared.

What you once thought was a single source was actually many smaller ones.

It was a house built into the side of a steep hill. Lanterns hung from posts and nearby trees, lining the cut walkway all the way to what must have been the front door.

In a place of seemingly unending forest, the existence of life was truly baffling.

Seeing it’s light, the warm illuminate coming from the windows and contrasting the harshness of the encroaching night—it had your feet moving before your mind could make any sense of what to do. A shaky and cold hand came up to the wooden frame of the door, prepared to inquire on whoever was living in this strange little abode.

As your knuckles rapped against it, the door pushed open with ease.

Instantly, the smell of homemade baking and the warmth of a lit fireplace washed over you. With a glance over your shoulder, it wasn’t hard to favour the welcoming atmosphere of this strange home over the foreboding and thick woodlands behind you.

In turning back to the front entrance, you peaked your head in before stepping through the threshold. “Hello? Is anybody home?”

Silence continued to hang in the air as you ventured further, curious eyes swiping over the visible rooms. You ended up in what you assumed was a living room, finding the place to be authentically rustic. Wooden furniture, cozy knit blankets and shiny lit candle sconces hanging off the walls.

The home was quite honestly breathtaking, such a cozy environment. It made you wonder who could be living h—

“It’s been quite some time since I’ve had visitors.”

The sudden smooth voice came from behind you, prompting you to startlingly turn its direction. At a loss for words, because you’d blatantly trespassed onto someone’s property, and they’d caught you in the act, you stared wide eyed at the man before you.

Brown hair, matching the colour of his eyes, tall and fit, his long sleeve shirt that was rolled up to the elbows being tight enough to highlight his lean frame along with dark denim jeans―overall dressed quite nicely for living in the middle of nowhere. He was regarding you with an almost playful look, confusing you as you’d expect him to be downright appalled at your unwarranted intrusion.

The man awaited an answer for a few seconds, and in finding you still speechless, he let out a light chuckle. “Perhaps I should introduce myself—you can call me Tooru. I suppose you’re quite lost, little wanderer?”

He slowly drew closer, taking cautious steps, moreso to not scare you off.

His approach did break you out of your stupor, and suddenly there was no filter on the words tumbling from your lips. “Oh, god. I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude or anything. It’s just I went too far into the forest and I couldn’t find my way home and then out of nowhere I found this place. I should’ve never just walked in but the door was open, and I called out to see if anyone was here but—”

“It’s alright, it’s alright. No need to fret, I’m not upset—quite the opposite in fact. These woods are dangerous, you were lucky to have found my home before nightfall, dear.”

Nervously, you toyed with the ends of your sleeves, opening your mouth to apologize further.

But he had other ideas.

An inquisitive look crossed his strikingly handsome face, “You seem troubled, perhaps I could ease your mind?”

Dismissively, you waved your hands. “N-No, I’m fine, really. Just concerned with finding my way back is all…”

That gleaming smile returned to his face, “Oh well I knew that, cutie. I was talking about something else—what made you come into these woods.”

Still standing in the place he found you, you watched as Tooru walked past and took a seat on the couch. He patted the spot next to him.

A slight crease formed between your brows at the proposition. “It doesn’t really matter, it’s kind of stupid to be honest, so…”

“Don’t be silly, it has to be serious if it had you fleeing into the forest.”

The comment made you pause for a second, because you never told him you ran away. But, judging by your disheveled appearance, and how panicked you were in general, the assumption was technically understandable.

Before you could question it, Tooru spoke up once again.

“Tell you what, cutie. I’ll make you a deal—you explain to me why you ended up here, and in return I’ll help you get home.”

Now, you questioned his sanity more than you questioned your own. “That’s hardly fair, I mean...what do you get out of that.”

Quite comfortably, the man leaned into the couch, legs spread and head tilted back ever so slightly. He gave a small shrug of his shoulders, “Your company, it’s lonely out here after all, and I don’t think I wanna see you off just yet.”

At that, you realized that without his help, the odds of you getting home were slim to none. If all it took to get back was some idle chit chat, then so be it.

With a respectful distance between the two of your bodies, you sat down onto the cushiony couch. Hands folded on your lap, you began reciting the ailments of the night to his strange request.

Tooru listened patiently as you went on, gently encouraging you to keep going when you felt shy under his gaze. At the times you felt you were oversharing, he only reassured you that you were doing everything but the sort. It was the deal, after all.

Almost thirty minutes had gone by, you detailing the detestment you held for your relatives, what they’d said and why it was entirely offensive and unwarranted. How you’d escaped into the expansive forest once you reached your breaking point, remembering how the atmosphere always used to calm you when you were upset as a child. Maybe you rambled a bit too much at your appreciation for the entrancing backwoods, but Tooru didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

If anything, you could almost see a hint of genuine warmth flash across his features as you noted how you admired the natural and effortless beauty of the place. How it seemed to overflow with tranquility, and that you were immensely thankful it remained untouched for so long.

By the time you were done, Tooru was forced to hide the intense swell in his heart at your innocent adoration for the forest he watched over.

You hadn’t changed one bit...

He was devastated the day he learnt you had moved out of town, fearing the worst for your impressionable little self. Tooru only knew you as the young girl who would frolic in the forest to and fro using the path he built so you wouldn’t get lost. Before he could do anything about the growing obsession he had, you slipped right through his fingertips.

He was so sure if you ever did return, that hopeful gleam in your eyes would be turned dull. But here you were, sitting right next to him, only thanks to him subtly scooting closer. Telling him all about how much you found solace in the woodlands, like he didn’t already know that fact in great detail.

The fae sensed your energy the moment you stepped foot past the tree line almost an hour ago, like his own personal breath of fresh air.

He regarded your bashful face at how you once again unintentionally rambled. Tooru wasn’t complaining in the slightest, since the reason you’d returned to him also served as the perfect opening.

“Well, in any case I know you don’t deserve to be treated like that. Such a shame how hurtful people can be.”

Averting your eyes and instead focusing on the lit fireplace, you responded. “I’m guessing most of them just don’t realize what they’re saying is hurtful. But even then―my uncle really couldn’t be any more creepy.” You laughed off the admission, even though the reality had a nervousness stirring inside of you.

“Hmm, I think you just need a little something to ward them off. Why don’t I sweeten the pot a little?” Tooru leaned forward, suddenly much more seriously engaged. “I’ll head home with you tonight, get them off your back. It’d be weird if you left and never returned, and there’s no way you’re going to survive the night if your family acts as nasty as you say they do. I only need one small thing in return, it’s a good deal if you ask me!” While the offer sounded very enticing, him knowing just as much as you that his presence would certainly fend off much unwanted attention, the last part did unnerve you.

“What exactly do you want?”

Tooru stood up from his spot, holding out a hand for you to take. “That’s a surprise for later, my dear. I promise it will be worth it, what do you say?”

Unsure, you hesitated to accept him. But the fearful emotions of throwing yourself right back into the cesspool of prying family members was powerful. Tooru seemed like a good man―he didn’t freak out in finding you uninvited in his home, nor did he push you away when he found you were quite clearly distraught. He was offering to help you make it out of this god forsaken family reunion alive, and only for an apparent small price. Although you didn’t exactly know what that price was, the part of you dreading what would happen should you return alone was more than willing to take your chances.

Gingerly, your smaller hand took hold of his, letting him help you up from your seat.

Quite pleased with your reaction, Tooru took the unspoken agreement and gave you a reassuring smile.

“Perfect, let's get going then.”

_____

The music playing around you seemed like a distant noise, reverberating through the room but not really being something you could focus on. Not when you were so wrapped up both mentally and physically in the way Tooru had you held against him. He spun you to the beat of the song a couple times, his smile wide at the way you carelessly giggled at the action.

Since the both of you returned to the reunion, which by now had turned into a small party, you’d certainly had more than a few drinks.

Neither of you seemed to mind, as your newfound caretaker only facilitated your energy.

In seeing you with this man who was certainly more than easy on the eyes, your once greatly offensive relatives suddenly were behaving the exact opposite as they once had. Most of them left you alone in fact.

Keyword: most.

As the upbeat song came to an end, Tooru could tell you were growing quite tired. He was a great dance partner after all, and it genuinely felt like a workout to keep up with his stylish moves. In an eased motion, he pulled you back into his chest, leaning down to speak into your ear as another song began playing over the speakers.

“How ‘bout we take a break, huh pretty girl?”

With a gentle and reassuring squeeze of your hip, you somewhat mindlessly went along with the suggestion, nodding in response and letting him lead you away from the dance floor. Granted, the ‘dance floor’ was just the outside patio, large enough to serve the purpose as it was no secret your uncle had the wealth to own such a large estate. Tooru kept your hand in his as you both made your way back into the home.

At least you were doing that, until the host of the party, owner of the house and irritatingly touchy uncle that served as the main force which drove you away once tonight stepped into your path.

“Hey there, sweet pea. Where ya headed to?” It was clear he too wasn’t anywhere near sober, the stumble in his step, along with the beer bottle in his hand giving him away.

Before you could answer, Tooru made a point in gently pushing you behind him.

The consideration warmed your heart―but maybe it was just the booze.

“Just taking my girl inside, excuse us.” He made a point to step around your uncle, only to get a warning in the form of a sweaty hand on his shoulder.

Your uncle pushed him back slightly. “Now hold on there, I wanna talk to my niece.”

“And she doesn’t want to talk to you, fucking pervert.”

While your reaction was a little delayed, your uncle’s certainly was not.

He reared his arm back, the one with the bottle in hand. “Why, you little―” As he swung the makeshift glass weapon, a look of pure shock cemented in his features as Tooru gripped the man’s wrist in one hand, still holding your’s with the other.

You hadn’t a clue what Tooru was doing, but somehow the defensive act brought your uncle to his knees. He let out a wordless scream, dropping the beer bottle and letting it shatter against the stone patio.

“She’s not your anything, you’re nothing to her. Just a creepy piece of shit old man―got it?”

He tried wrenching his arm from Tooru’s grip, but it didn’t budge an inch. “The fuck? You her boyfriend or somethin’? Let her decide for her damn se―”

With a particularly harsh twist, you hear something pop in your uncle's arm, before Tooru let him crumple to the ground. You couldn’t even make a single move to stop what was unfolding, the tight grip Tooru had on your own hand a deterrent enough.

With senses still dulled with the influence of countless drinks, you weren’t sure whether to be horrified or relieved that your uncle was getting what he deserved.

The scowl across Tooru’s face as he sneered down at the pathetic man was blood chillingly harsh. “She means more to me than she’ll ever mean to you―that’s all that matters.”

With that, you stayed tormented with conflicted thoughts as you were pulled away from the party. Tooru kept his hold on you firm, unrelenting as he pushed past your relatives and finally away from the house.

At the tree line, right where the path you went down earlier tonight started, you finally tugged at his hand. “S-Stop, Tooru..” It came out as more of a whine, backed up by the way your feet dug into the ground.

He halted abruptly, turning to face you, causing you to lightly crash into him. You could feel his amused chuckle vibrate in his chest, no signs of whatever deeply unpleased vice that once held him still existing now that the two of you were alone.

“Night’s not over yet, cutie. Gotta take you home, we made a deal remember?”

Placing your hands against his broad frame, you pushed yourself away from him, which wasn’t very far when his arms were securely wrapped around your waist. “But, m-my uncle. He looked hurt…”

Slender fingers held your chin, tilting your head up so that your glassy eyes met his soft brown ones.

“He’s fine, don’t worry your pretty little head over that, alright? Just let me look after you for now.”

You knew he was talking about the way you were nearly falling over under the influence, but it didn’t stop the frustrated look from forming on your expression. The way he so casually brushed off how he effortlessly laid out your uncle didn’t sit right with you.

Quite tenderly, Tooru switched to cup your face, thumb absentmindedly swiping across your cheekbone. “You look so cute when you pout like that.”

To his declaration, you pouted more.

Not before a quick pinch of your cheek, Tooru swiftly scooped you up bridal style, starting down the path of the forest. The sudden action made you squeal in surprise, not expecting the sheer strength he exhibited. It was like you weighed nothing more than a feather, him playfully hoisting you further into his arms.

“Hey! Put me down, I can walk jus’ fine!”

He kept his entertained gaze fixed ahead as he responded. “Not gonna happen, just enjoy the ride, we’ll be home before you know it.”

In a final attempt, you annoyingly and weakly pawed against his chest.

“Quite your squirming, it won’t get you anywhere, little wanderer.” Pointedly, you felt his arms constrict around you, effectively pinning you against him, as if you weren’t already stuck before.

A deep and tired sigh escaped your lips. “S’not my home, whatever…”

Having resigned to his will, you slumped against him.

Tooru’s lips quirked up into something a little less soft, more mischievous. Eyes glinting in the moonlight, if not a little brighter now that he was going home.

Not that you saw, having closed your own in favour of a small cat nap while he carried you away from the stresses of the night.

_____

It’s been maybe an hour or so since you decided that you were grateful for not just the way Tooru handled your repulsive relative, but really for spending the whole night with you in general. From making sure you weren’t lost in the forest forever, to playing the dutiful knight, and now, how he was so hospitably entertaining you back in his home―Tooru really did feel like a dream come true.

He was charmingly charismatic, held an almost innate concern for you, honestly making you regret how once you sobered up, you’d have to part for your return back to your own home in the city.

But right now, that’s not what you wanted to think about.

Especially not when you were so comfortable, unable to remember at what point you clambered your way into his lap on the couch, but not really caring. Tooru looked at you like you were the sun, stars and moon, and you returned that gaze through dazed eyes and wetted lashes.

More tears pricked as you straddled his hips, intaking a sharp breath as his mouth slotted against yours once again before he lightly nipped at your bottom lip. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that tonight, you having been in this position for quite some time now.

That didn’t stop Tooru from greedily pulling you closer, fingers digging into your hips as you unconsciously ground against him, a familiar warm sensation budding inside you.

“Such a pretty little thing, you are.” He leant in for a chaste kiss, leaving you wanting more as he pulled away once again. “So goddamn pretty.”

A high pitched whimper tumbled from your lips as your hips picked up a shaky pace, dragging your clothed heat back and forth. Tooru let his hands slide down your body and under the hem of your dress, you shuddering at the heat of his palms when he pushed the fabric up, returning his grip to your bare hips. Still dangerously intoxicated, you didn’t mind the way he pulled and pushed you down on his hardened length in the slightest.

Speaking in between the small kisses he was leaving across your jawline, his breath had goosebumps rising on your skin. “Feel what you do to me?” Tooru met your movements by grinding up against you, the harsh fabric of his jeans pressing against your sensitive clit and earning a mewl from you.

“So needy for me, aren’t you?”

He let out an airy snicker, seeing your desperate expression as he lifted your hips up just enough so that your bodies weren’t touching. His strength was unrelenting as you tried to keep moving.

“Ah, ah, ah. Not yet―first, you hold up your end of the deal―” Tooru leaned forward, whispering in a low and teasing tone, “―and then I’ll give you what you want.”

He was right, you really were needy, because the question of your obligation came out almost instantly. “Please, whatever you want, it’s yours.”

Before answering, Tooru gave pause to land a soft kiss right under your ear.

“Tell me your name, pretty girl.”

A bout of confusion washed over you, causing you to pull back. You regarded him with curious eyes.

“...That’s it?”

The wordless encouragement of the reassuring smile he gave you didn’t do much to ease you.

“That’s it.”

Tooru was clearly waiting for an answer.

Meanwhile, you pondered why this moment spurred a distant and nearly forgotten memory. Maybe it was the strange glint in his eyes, but a moment of clarity washed over you at an all too familiar event.

Back in your old home in the very town you were subjected to travel to for the reunion tonight. When your grandma would scold you as a child for venturing too far into the woodlands you were currently so deep in. A bedtime story that you tried not to take seriously, because part of you knew it was just meant to scare you into submission.

Tales of monsters that looked like humans. Mischievous beings who prayed on innocence, hiding in the forest and luring people deeper. Promises of a better life just being a clever play of words, twisted to hide the true meaning.

“Nasty creatures indeed, my dear. Once they get you, we’ll never see you again. You don’t want that to happen, right? You’ll get snatched up, lost in their games of power when you least expect it, and it’ll leave us devastated. You wouldn’t be so selfish, let those tricky things without a soul take you from us. You’re smarter than that, I’m sure…”

Those warnings instilled fear into the hearts of your peers, their parents and elders telling them the tried and true tale.

Not for you though.

Back into the thick of the bush you would go, and you’d return every time. Just like tonight, you thought you were lost, but even then you found your way home.

While you reminisced, Tooru’s hand drifted lower, playing with the waistband of your panties. The light brushing against your skin brought you back.

“Why do you need my name?”

When Tooru hesitated to give an immediate reply, a voice resembling the cautionary tone of your grandma’s warned of danger to be had in his presence.

Yet with his words, the concern for wariness vanished.

“Well, I think it’s obvious―” In a swift motion, Tooru brought your clothed heat back down, need stirring inside of you and building once again, “―that you’re staying the night.”

“And…” Careful, so as not to startle you, he laid you down on the couch, taking his place above you. “...You know my name, so you know what you’ll be screaming later.”

Nimble fingers hiked up your dress even further, you remaining wantonly complacent as he left a trail of kisses down your stomach.

You felt your body flush with heat, squirming as he slowly made his way lower, peppering every inch of your skin with equal amounts of attention.

Tooru gave you a look filled to the brim with lust, one that was dark, but that fact only made you want to clench your thighs together if he wasn’t holding them apart. “Don’t you think it’s fair that I know the same for you?”

The way his gaze flickered to the wet spot forming on your panties, that cocky smirk he held in knowing just how much he was affecting you made you feel restless.

He began littering the inside of your thighs with small marks, latching on to spots here and there before stopping completely.

“Your name, and then I’ll make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before.”

Lower lip quivering, you wracked your mind in a final moment of decision making. But as his thumb slipped beneath the thin fabric, a soft pad pressing down on your bundle of nerves, there really wasn’t anything you could do to hold back.

“(Y/n).”

For a second, neither of you moved. But Tooru was a man of his word, and you’d been so good for him.

He didn’t want to waste any more time than necessary. Not after all these years of waiting for you to come home.

“Oh…” Leaning up, his fingers hooked under the waistband of your thin covering, whispering smoothly. “(y/n), (y/n), (y/n)...”

Perhaps it was just your inebriated mind playing tricks on you, but as Tooru slowly and teasingly removed your panties, eyeing the string of arousal that clung to the fabric, it seemed like he was nearly glowing. Yet, you didn’t really care, passing it off as the flickering light of the fireplace, much more concerned with the way his hands glided up your bare legs, parting them with a firm grip.

Tantalizingly so, he dipped back down to your heat, watching as you clenched around nothing when his breath fanned against it.

Finally, his tongue delved in between your folds, dragging a long and languid stripe up and causing your breath to hitch. He let out his own groan of relief, the taste of you flooding his mouth, being the sweetest nectar to ever grace his senses.

Now it was his turn to look up at you through beautifully long lashes.

Tooru soaked up the way you waited patiently for him to keep going, behaving so well for him, being exactly where he wanted you to be. Melting right into his hands, in his home, where nobody would ever find you―deep in the territory of his forest.

So compliant, not even realizing the deciding moment of your fate, naively and unknowingly giving yourself up to him.

It was only fair that he rewarded you for such good behaviour tonight. Over and over again, until you’d be begging for him to stop.

You failed to notice how his eyes lit up, swirling with newfound power, and all because of you.

“Just relax, (y/n). I’ll take good care of you.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere tooru oikawa #yandere oikawa #yandere tooru #yandere x you #haikyuu x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #tw dubcon #tw alcohol #tw stalking #tw predatory behavior #lovesick collab

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dumb-gryffindor · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday

Based on the headcannon that Sirius ran away on Reggie's birthday

..............................................................................................

Sirius stared at the open trunk in front of him. He had already packed everything he needed, arranged everything with James and was ready to leave this shitty excuse of a family. He didn’t care about getting disowned or burned from the stupid family tree, he only cared about being finally free, about finally finding a loving and happy family.

But yet, there was something stopping him. Something that had had him hesitating about his decision for the past 20 minutes. Why couldn't he leave? It was as easy as going through the door, and if he was lucky, he would do that unnoticed. This wasn't just a silly prank like the ones he always did at Hogwarts, this was going to define his future, so he took the time to make a Plan B, and a Plan C and a Plan D, although he hoped that he wouldn't have to recur to those.

"Come on, Sirius. It has been your dream to leave since you were 11, so just fucking do it" He told himself. With a slightly shaky breath, he closed the trunk and was ready to grab his wand, which was lying on the ground, but then he heard a knock on the door.

"Sirius," A voice said on the other side of the door. Sirius' heart suddenly dropped to the ground, "Mother says you should come down. We are about to eat the cake" Regulus said, and Sirius noted sadness in his voice.

Silence. Suddenly he didn't know what to say, so he just stood there, in the middle of his now empty room (except for the wall decorations, purposely left there). He knew Regulus was still there, and Sirius had the urge to at least do something, to let his brother know that he was there, like he always did. He rushed towards the door, but stopped himself before grabbing the doorknob. After a second or two of hesitating, he finally opened it.

Regulus' eyes lit up when he saw his brother, although his expression stayed the same. He had barely come out of his room for the entire day, only early in the morning before everyone else was awake to wish Regulus a happy birthday. He had missed his birthday lunch and dinner—neither brother ever got to have a birthday party, so a family dinner was as far as they got—and had spent the entire day packing his stuff.

So, that was what was keeping Sirius from leaving. His brother. His little brother (Not so little anymore, though. He was already fourteen). He couldn't just leave him. Not when he had spent his entire life protecting him, trying to guide him into the right path instead of the one that his parents wanted him to go through. Yes, things had gotten quite difficult now that Voldemort was becoming more powerful everyday, but Sirius had never stopped loving or caring for his little brother, and was sure Regulus felt the same.

"Reggie" Sirius said, trying to smile, although he found it quite hard. He wanted to say a million more things to him, but he didn't have the courage to say them. "Come with me, let's leave this house together" "Don't stay" "I'm sorry. For everything" "Happy Birthday" "I love you".

"So… are you coming or not?" Regulus asked, and Sirius snapped back to reality, and looked at his brother in the eyes. He couldn't leave him behind, but how was he going to tell him? He was aware of the fact that Regulus had been manipulated by his parents to always be against his brother, so it was expected for him to react badly to the proposal. But instead, Sirius did what he best knew what to do: Fuck things up.

"I’m leaving" Sirius said, and Regulus looked at him in confusion.

"What?" He asked

"I'm leaving," Sirius repeated.

"What?" Regulus asked now in disbelief. Sirius felt a pang of pain in his heart as he watched his brother realize that it was not a joke, and that he was actually leaving, “W...Where? Why?”

“Well, it was obvious that at one point I would finally get fed up with our parents' bullshit, and that moment is now.” Sirius said, “I’m going to...to James’ ”

“Of course you are” Regulus muttered, his eyes flashing with anger, but his voice flooded by disappointment.

“Co...Come with me, Reg. We can live together and have a life of our own,” The oldest brother suggested, grabbing his little brother by the shoulders, but Regulus quickly shook him off.

“Are you… are you out of your mind?” Regulus said, angrily, “We wouldn't last two seconds outside before having hundreds of aurors looking for us… and...and you can't just leave like that!”

“Yes I can.” Sirius replied dryly, “And I swear we will be safe at James’ house with his family. We can have the life we always wanted, Reggie…”

“The life you always wanted, just because you were too blinded by your ego to realize that our parents only wanted us to be safe and successful!” Regulus interrupted him, and Sirius noted his eyes glimmering with tears. One part of Sirius wanted to scream to his little brother, to make him finally realize the truth, to wake him up from whatever their parents had poisoned Regulus mind with, but the other half wanted to stay just for him, wanted to go downstairs and finally act like the rightful heir of the Black family, just for Regulus.

“Reggie, please…”

“Don't call me that.”

“...Just, think about it. A life away from mother and father. You wouldn't have to be stressed all the time, you wouldn't have to carry such pressure over your shoulders. You wouldn't have to become them, you wouldn't have to join the Dark Lord! Think about it!” Regulus stayed quiet for a few seconds, seeming to have an internal war with himself. Sirius suddenly felt a flash of hope that maybe he had managed to convince his brother with that last idea, but then Regulus stood up straighter and his jaw clenched.

“You don't know anything about what I want” He answered.

“For fuck sake, Regulus!” Sirius snapped, starting to lose patience, “Wake up! Cant you realize you are being fucking manipulated by them?!”

“I'm perfectly capable of realizing when someone is using me, and that would not be the case in here!” His brother answered back, “You always talk about mother and father like they are the fucking devil himself, when everything they always wanted was just for us to be safe and to know what is best for us!”

“That's what they want you to think! They just want you to become like them, they just want you to lead you to a path that will make you unhappy. It's not too late to change everything. Just come with me! We can be happy with James and his family, we can form a new family!”

“Oh, its always about fucking James!” Regulus snapped, “James this, James that, James told me this…You seem to prefer him as your brother better than me!” Regulus shouted, pronouncing James’ name like it was poison, and Sirius said nothing for the next few seconds. Regulus was panting with anger, his fist clenched and a storm being unleashed in his grey eyes. Sirius’ blood was boiling by this point, and he didn’t see the point on continuing arguing, not when Regulus was this reluctant to open his fucking eyes for just one time.

“Fine,” Sirius managed to say, “Then stay the fuck alone in this house” He stormed back into his room, grabbed his wand and quickly casted a levitation charm on his trunk, not caring about the fact that he would most likely get a warning from the ministry. The ministry could suck his dick. He went out of his room again, his trunk following him floating a few inches from the ground, Regulus just standing there. He snapped back to reality once his older brother was already a few steps down the stairs.

“Sirius, please!” He said, grabbing his brother's wrist, but Sirius quickly let go, not bothering to look back, “Please, think about it!” His voice was now almost like a whisper, pain managing to creep through it.

“I’ve already thought plenty about this, Regulus, '' Sirius simply replied. His brother followed him down the other three flights of stairs, saying things that Sirius chose to ignore, as much as it hurted his heart deep down. He could hear the voices of his family members—ex family members— in the dining room, and that somehow encouraged him to leave faster. He reached the entrance hall and opened the front door. Rain was pouring outside, but that didn't stop him.

Sirius started walking quickly towards the sidewalk, his hair getting wet and falling over his shoulders due to the rain, his clothes getting soaked wet. “Wait!” Regulus called for him. Sirius stopped on his track and turned around to face him, surprised to see that he was running after him. He stopped, and both brothers looked in the eye.

“Please. You can't leave… You can't leave me” Regulus pleaded, his voice low and looking down to his feet. Sirius' expression softened a little, realizing this was his last chance to save his little brother.

“Then come with me, Reg” Sirius answered, this time in a softer tone, “I promise, everything we’ll do, we will do it together. I’ll never leave you alone, Reg. I swear”

“Then don’t leave!” Regulus shouted back. They were both now soaking wet, and Regulus had started to shiver a little, so he hugged himself in an attempt to cover his arms from the cold. Sirius felt the impulse to hug him and protect him from the cold, to protect him from the world, but he remained on his spot, looking at his brother.

“I have to, Regulus! I don't want to keep living on like this. I want to be free and to be whoever the fuck I want and to be surrounded by the people i love!” Sirius answered, and Regulus stared back, his eyes reflecting the moment his heart shattered, begging him to stay.

“Stay for me. I need you” He whispered, the sound of his voice slowly fading away with the pouring rain. Those words hit Sirius like a trainwreck.

“I won't stay, I’ve already told you that!” Sirius managed to say, although he hated himself. Of course the last thing he wanted was to leave his little brother behind, but he was just so tired and the only thing that he wanted to do was arrive to the Potter’s, where he knew he would always be welcomed, “If you so desperately want to be with me, then just fucking come with me!”

“I can't, Sirius. I can't!” Regulus shouted, “I cant.” He repeated himself, this time in a lower voice. Maybe he was waiting for Sirius to keep insisting, but he didn't. He made a decision, one that he would later come to regret the prior years. One that the cold and lonely cell in Azkaban would make him hate himself for. But the past can’t be undone, and with just three simple words, Regulus life was ruined forever.

“Then I'm sorry” Sirius said, “I really am, Reggie”

A sob escaped from Regulus lips, and a tear fell from his eyes, although it mixed with the raindrops that were falling down his cheeks. The brothers locked eyes for one last time. One last time, and they both understood that this was the end of it. Of everything.

“Happy birthday” Sirius said, and started walking away from the house, from his childhood, from his suffering, from his brother.

..............................................................................................

Soo, this is my first time writing a one shot (can you call it like that?) and i'm quite happy w it :) English isnt my first language so there may be some mistakes.

Hope you liked it :)

#sirius black #regulus black #sirius and regulus #the black brothers #noble house of black #marauders #sirius imagine #james potter #marauders oneshot #remus lupin #regulus black headcanons #marauders headcanon

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letsfluxshitup · 3 years

Text

companionship is stored in the fried bread [ao3]

Techno wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up here, (somewhat) prisoner at his own kitchen table, as Tommy furiously kneaded dough in front of him.

bedrock bros but with old routines and new trauma aka tommy and techno fry bread

Techno wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up here, (somewhat) prisoner at his own kitchen table, as Tommy furiously kneaded dough in front of him.

He remembered waking up from another week long nap, Phil recounting any news he'd picked up, and stumbling back towards his bedroom. He'd barely made it to the stairs before his door had flung open, bouncing off of the wall and slamming shut again.

Techno blinked at the door, before it was flung open again, this time much gentler and followed by a string of curses and taunts.

"Your fuckin door sucks, y'know that? Trying to lock me out? Stubbed my fuckin toe on it, you should get a new one, piece of garbage attacked me." Tommy hissed as he walked through the door, not hesitating to slam it behind him. The door swung back and hit him from behind, bouncing off of a spare shoe that had fallen in the way.

Tommy paused, face and shoulders scrunched up as he sucked in a deep breath, cheeks and ears flushing red in Tommy's signature lead up to I'm

-going-to-throw-a-tantrum-but-it's-not-called-a-tantrum-technoblade-I-am-not-a-child-technoblade-but-that-will-not-stop-me-from-bursting-your-eardrums-because-I've-been-inconvenienced-technoblade.

"Are you hungry?" Techno blurted out, remembering back to SMP Earth, and the foolproof method of derailing a Tommy Innit Tantrum— offering food and/or shiny things.

Tommy deflated in one long exhale, shoulders relaxing and face smoothing as he grinned at Techno.

"Actually, I am, big man! What do you have available? I'm quite hungry actually, I've been walking for a very long time, and it's very rude of you, actually, to not offer me something to eat sooner," Tommy inhaled again, catching his breath. "Did you know that, Techno? Did you know you're very rude?"

"I'm aware," Techno deadpanned, spinning on his heel and heading for the kitchen. Tommy was directly behind him, stepping on his heels more often than not.

Techno gestured towards the kitchen table, in what should have been a universally recognizable symbol of please-sit-down-you're-in-the-way, which Tommy completely ignored by climbing on to his counter to dig in his cupboard.

RaccoonInnit, echoed in his head, startling him slightly since Chat had been unusually quiet since Tommy had appeared.

Techno sighed deeply as the voices picked up slightly, humming their thoughts into his ears. Mostly protect-protect-protect, but there wasn't really anything to protect him from. If he slipped and broke his neck from falling off the counter then that was his own problem.

That train of thought earned him a near unanimous shriek of voices, demanding he make sure Tommy didn't fall.

He sighed again, ending it off with a slight growl as he moved towards Tommy, figuring he may as well entertain the voices for now.

Tommy's head whipped around at the sound of the growl, and he reeled back as Techno moved closer, a stuttering of "sorry- sorry- I didn't-" cut off as he slipped off the counter.

Techno lunged forward without thinking, catching Tommy around the shoulders and lowering him to the ground. Tommy's eyes were wide as he made eye contact with Techno, terror twisting Techno's stomach as Tommy let out a childlike little whimper.

Techno opened his mouth, to speak, to apologize, to break the silence, but was awarded with a face full of sweaty hand, Tommy smacking him away and cursing up a storm as he stumbled to his feet.

When Tommy made it out of arm's reach he paused, shifting from foot to foot, glancing between Techno and the doorway.

Techno blinked, slowly rising to his feet, hands spread out.

"Sorry," he rumbled, voices in his head screaming for him to apologize, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Tommy huffed, puffing up again, forcing his shoulders back and head held high.

"You didn't scare me, dickhead, just startled me a little." He grumbled, arms crossed as he deflated slightly.

Techno certainly wasn't going to argue semantics after nearly causing the kid to crack his head open, and instead brushed the non existent dirt off of his pants.

"So," Tommy huffed, gesturing towards the cabinet. "Where's the flour? I want to fry bread."

He'd managed to sparse through Tommy's nearly incoherent ramblings to pick up that Tommy was hiding from everyone else- or rather, "taking a break, because Big Men don't hide, Technoblade-".

"You needed a break from the drama so you ran to your worst enemy?" Techno deadpanned, reaching for the flour as Tommy sent him a pleading look. His hands were covered in too sticky dough, having ignored Techno's insistence that they needed to add more flour. He couldn't really knead it like that, he was more just squishing it between his fingers.

Techno would be more grossed out if he hadn't watched tommy thoroughly wash his hands. He'd hovered nearby as Tommy aggressively scrubbed before Techno had even let him near the dough, Tommy complaining the whole time about how he knew how to wash his hands and didn't need a babysitter.

Tommy huffed in response, wind whistling between his clenched teeth as he worked the flour into the dough.

"You're not my worst enemy," he snarked, something vulnerable in his eyes and the set of his jaw. "My worst enemy is in prison, currently."

"And hopefully that's where he'll stay," Techno hummed absently, watching as Tommy's shoulders relaxed minutely. "Things have been a lot quieter around here, startin' to wonder if him blaming you for all the problems on the server was just him projecting."

"Yeah, right, of course. He was being a projector and shit," Tommy let out a slightly incredulous laugh, and yeah, Techno realized it was hypocritical of them to place the blame on Dream. But, Tommy looked tired and tense and other t-words with negative meanings that Tommy didn't deserve the weight of.

Tommy rolled out the dough, flour-y hands causing puffs of flour to cling to his shirt and pants and hair. Techno huffed a laugh at the smear of flour across Tommy's cheek, and vaguely gestured towards his own face when Tommy raised a questioning eyebrow.

Tommy immediately swiped a hand across his face, smearing more flour in the process. His eyebrows furrowed, surely able to feel it, and he glowered at Techno, daring him to say something. Techno just snorted as he stood up, ignoring the coos roiling through his head, and waved Tommy away from the rolled out dough.

"We've gotta cut it up now, so we can fry it," Techno said, reaching for the knife he'd left out for this exact reason, carefully watching Tommy for a reaction.

"I know that, dickhead, you don't have to explain," Tommy snapped, head held high, as he watched Techno section up the dough.

Techno kept his eyes on the dough, carefully watching Tommy through his peripherals. In a, frankly, unearned show of trust, Tommy turned his back to him to wash his hands of the flour and sticky dough remnants.

When he was done, though, he whipped back around, watching Techno's hand on the knife. He'd apparently exceeded his reserve of unfounded-trust-for-the-person-who'd-essentially-ruined-his-life for the day.

Which, despite the voices' croons of distress at being untrusted, Techno thought was totally fair.

Tommy was nervous, and on edge, but he didn't seem to be explicitly afraid of Techno, just anxious in general, and Techno wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

Blinking back to the present, realizing he'd just been staring blankly at the cut up bread, he looked to Tommy.

"Do we want to make shapes or just fry as is?" He asked, carefully skirting past Tommy to drop the knife in the sink.

Out of sight, out of mind, hopefully, Techno thought. He quickly rinsed the knife, and cupped his hand to let the water run over the flecks of flour and dough that clung to the sides of the sink.

Tommy opened his mouth to respond and moved past him at the same time, towards the table, shoulder barely brushing across Techno's back. Techno tensed slightly in surprise. Tommy froze, and from the corner of his eye Techno could see he was tensed up as well. After no reaction, Tommy carefully made his way back to the table.

Techno kept fiddling around at the sink, letting Tommy play with the dough while he pretended to be busy. He knew Tommy liked making all sorts of shapes out of the dough, but wouldn't do it if he thought he was wasting Techno's time.

Techno busied himself with finding a proper pot, then filling it with the appropriate amount of oil. He measured it out carefully, and tried not to be bothered about the deafening lack of Tommy's insistence that you didn't have to measure it, the right amount of oil was something you felt in your heart.

He remembered the first handful of times, way back in Hypixel, when Tommy had insisted on teaching him how to fry bread. Those attempts, rife with errors and Tommy shouting about not needing to do silly things like measure, were near disasters, almost always saved by Techno's insistence on following instructions.

Once Tommy's hands stilled and the oil was at the appropriate temperature, Techno consciously relaxed his shoulders and smoothed out his face before turning around, eyeing the flour that had made its home on Tommy's clothes.

"We'll have to get you an apron," he drawled, already thinking about the leftover rolls of cloth he'd made, and if he had any red dye laying around still.

Tommy blinked, hands nervously fluttering at his side, caught off guard. Techno stared blankly back at him, having an idea of what was going through the kid's head.

Technosoft, bounced around in his head and he rolled his eyes when Tommy wasn't looking.

"You're assuming this is gonna be a regular thing?" Tommy tried to snark, but it fell flat, voice coming out too vulnerable and soft. It pitched up at the end, as if asking for permission.

"Yeah," Techno grunted. Tommy's eyes snapped back to him, and narrowed slightly before he huffed.

"Yeah, ok, fine." Tommy crossed his arms in front of himself. "I get it, I get it, you can't live without the great Tommy Innit's amazing fried bread."

Techno snorted as Tommy continued on.

"No, no, I get it, truly, it's just not the same when I don't make it, right? I have the special fried bread making touch, I know, it's a special talent of mine that gets all the ladies." Tommy scooped up the tray of dough, bringing it along to the stove where Techno stood.

"What ladies?" Techno grunted, as he reached for dough to test fry. He ignored the fact that it really didn't taste the same when Tommy wasn't there to help/be a menace.

"I'll have you know, Technoblade, I get lots of ladies-" Tommy puffed up, moving to put his own bit of dough in the oil. Tommy wasn't really paying attention, head tilted up to try his best to look down on someone who was taller than him, as he continued defending himself.

His hand moved down too quickly, and the dough flopped down into the oil, splashing a considerable amount back on to Tommy's fingertips.

Tommy cried out, jerking his hand back to his chest.

There was barely a breath before Techno's hand shot out, grabbing Tommy's around the wrist and dragging his hand towards his face.

Tommy flinched violently, his other hand coming out to swing at Techno, catching him hard across the jaw. Techno let go of Tommy's wrist, shoving him away in surprise, sending him careening into the side of the kitchen counter.

They both stumbled away from each other, standing on opposite sides of the kitchen as the oil kept sizzling away. The only other sound was Tommy's heavy breaths and slight sniffles, and Techno watched as he furiously swiped at his eyes.

"Do not grab me like that, alright?" Tommy snarled, shoulders tensed as he looked ready to run or defend himself.

Techno slowly held his hands up again, forcing himself to relax.

"I'm sorry," he grunted out, "You're right. I shouldn't have grabbed you like that."

Tommy squinted at him, swaying back on to his heels as he relaxed his arms from where they'd curled up defensively in front of him.

"Sorry for hittin' you." Tommy grumbled slightly, crossing his arms.

"I deserved it," Techno huffed back, scratching the back of his head. "I was just worried about your fingers. Sorry again."

"I accept your apology," Tommy said finally after a tense pause, head tilted back again, a look on his face as if daring him to say something.

"I accept your apology," Techno said back, carefully. Communicating, expressing his feelings and being a "good person" was so hard sometimes. It felt like he was walking on eggshells and if he said the wrong thing everything would fall apart.

Tommy sniffed.

"How's that for communication, huh, Puffy?" He muttered to himself, uncrossing his arms and making his way back to the stove.

"Cmere, dickhead, we have more dough to fry."

Techno relaxed as he made his way back over, and they settled back into banter and teasing.

Techno looked down at their fried bread, an assortment of shapes and figures.

Some were more distinguishable, like the twin T's and the handful of misshapen hearts.

Before Techno could say anything, not that he would've, Tommy started to talk.

"They don't mean anything, dickhead, they're just easy to make. We're not friends or anything, alright?" Tommy puffed himself up again, and Techno absently wondered why he did that, was it subconscious? Was it for confidence or to make himself seem bigger?

Instead of acknowledging anything Tommy said, Techno lightly bumped their heads together. Techno watched as his face flickered through several different emotions, ranging from happy to sad, before he just huffed and turned back to the finished bread.

"Everyone knows the best topping is sugar and cinnamon, I don't know why you even have the honey out," Tommy snarked, aggressively sprinkling sugar on to the bread. The image was kind of ruined by how careful Tommy was being, only covering pieces that were resolutely "his".

"I like the honey," Techno responded, loading his plate with a handful of pieces of bread. He picked up a few plain pieces, unshaped and just flat bits of bread. Tommy slipped a few shaped pieces onto his plate; one that was shaped vaguely like a pig, a crown, and one of the letter T's.

On Tommy's plate was the other T, a bee, and a horribly misshapen cow, along with a majority of the wonky hearts.

Techno drizzled the honey on to his bread, eyeing the excessive amounts of sugar and cinnamon Tommy put on his.

"Y'know, you'd like the honey if you tried it," Techno hummed, ignoring the glower Tommy sent his way.

"You always say that and I never like it," Tommy hissed back, petulant and childish. A warm feeling filled his chest as Tommy settled into their old argument, that Techno knew would eventually devolve into all the other things Techno dared to like that Tommy didn't.

Techno tuned back into-

"You said the same thing about mushroom stew! And cod and broccoli. Who even likes fuckin' broccoli?" Tommy dropped down into the seat next to Techno, pulling his plate to be in front of him. Techno didn't respond, focused on lightly slathering a small piece of fried bread.

3... 2... 1...

"Well, maybe I'll try a little bit," Tommy huffed, accepting the small piece Techno held out to him with a grumbled 'thanks'. Based on his reaction after he stuffed it into his mouth he still didn't like the honey, but he didn't say anything.

They ate in silence, Tommy quickly scoffing down the bread like he was worried someone would take it. Techno ate slower, hoping Tommy would pick up on the fact that he didn't have to choke down his food. This inevitably led to Tommy finishing first, and he silently started cleaning up.

Techno quietly finished up, helping Tommy with the rest of the dishes, before going to settle in the living room. Tommy followed behind him, looking a bit lost.

Techno was hit with the abrupt realization that he didn't want this to end. He liked having Tommy around, his energy filling the house with a warmth Techno never could.

Tommy cleared his throat awkwardly, shuffling his feet.

"I guess I should be heading out then-" Tommy started, eyes flicking to the door.

"No," Techno said, suddenly, too loud and aggressive, making Tommy flinch back.

"I mean- do you, uh, want to have some hot cocoa?" Techno fiddled with his braid, trying his best to give a reassuring smile around his tusks. Based on Tommy's expression it didn't really work, but Tommy stopped looking like he was about to sprint away.

"Sure, I guess," Tommy grinned at him, false bravado coloring his tone. "You missed Big Man Innit? I know, I know, my company is just so great, I see why you wouldn't want to miss out on it."

Tommy practically flounced over to the couch, and flopped down on it, resting his feet on the coffee table. Techno was silently grateful that Tommy was naturally overbearing, and more than willing to make up excuses for the both of them.

Techno retreated back to the kitchen, and it wasn't long before they'd settled into the living room, Techno in his arm chair and Tommy on the couch.

Tommy had loudly insisted on a blanket and pillow, saying he was cold and the couch was uncomfortable, and Techno was quietly hoping he'd just fall asleep there. Then he could avoid kicking him out or, even worse, asking him to stay.

He'd much rather Tommy just take advantage, instead of having a conversation.

Eventually, Tommy's constant stream of chatter petered out, and he slowly slumped back into the couch, falling asleep.

Techno waited until he was sure he was asleep, before carefully checking he wasn't at an awkward angle, he didn't want to deal with the kid complaining about a crick in his neck, ok? He started towards the stairs to his room before hesitating on the first step.

The voices, practically feasting on his reluctance, started loudly protesting at once.

What if a zombie breaks in?

What if the Butcher Army comes back?

What if he has a nightmare?

Techno huffed, ignoring how irrational the last two were, the Butcher Army long disbanded and it's not like Techno cared if the kid had a nightmare.

As if the universe itself was daring him otherwise, a scared whimper broke the silence. Techno looked back to the couch, where Tommy was tightly gripping the blankets around him, and his brow was furrowed. He could see from here how aggressively Tommy was clenching his jaw, and winced in sympathy.

He made his way back over, a quiet rumble in his chest. It was a soothing noise, meant for baby piglins but it worked just as well on Tommy considering how quickly his face smoothed out. Techno settled back into his armchair, accepting that he'd be up late watching over the kid and chasing his nightmares away.

He couldn't believe he'd gotten so soft.

#bedrock bros #tommyinnit #technoblade #fic #dsmp #flux writes

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salandition · 4 years

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Its,,,,, so basic but Maybe Leon and Reader are training out near Circhester and get caught in a snowstorm? They find an old cabin amongst the trees and tHeReS OnLy OnE BED and they have to keep warm,,,, (Love your writing btw)

A/N: yes, the classic trope. I will gladly take a bite out of it :) Also this one kind of really dragged on, so it’s a bit long lol took me way too long to finish. if any of you recognize the title, ur a real one

Chilly Down (Good Times, Bad Food)

Leon x Reader

--- --- ---

You feel like you should have expected something like this to happen. Despite what a great guy Leon is and how fun it is to hang out with him, he was sort of a magnet for trouble. He had an ability to draw in unfortunate events wherever he went it seemed.

So you’re not completely surprised when you and Leon are hit with an unexpected snowstorm while training together outside of Circhester. Are you a bit miffed about it? Yes. But surprised? No, not really.

“Training with the Champion is great and all,” you yell over the storm, one arm in front of your face to uselessly protect you from the snow, and your other hand is holding tightly onto Leon’s. Grabbing hold of him was almost more important than making it out of the storm- if you lost sight of Leon during this, you might never see him ever again. He’d find some way to end up on an undiscovered continent, you just know it. “But I think I’ll pass on your invitations after this!” You finally finish, continuing to trudge through the snow with him.

“You know, usually I’d argue, but I think that’s fair,” Leon laughs, and then immediately shuts his mouth as a rush of cold air hits him and tries to travel down his throat. He hacks a few times- a few ice crystals probably hit his uvula or something- and then you feel a harsh tug on your hand. “Look!”

Leon points toward a dim but very much real yellow glow in the distance. Immediately, the two of you head for it- desperate for any shelter you could be given. Part of you was doubtful, wondering if it was just some luminescent Pokémon or a random streetlight. Though even a streetlight would be better than nothing- that would mean you were back on the route’s path and could find your way back to Circhester if you were lucky.

But it wasn’t a random streetlight. Thank whatever Gods that may exist- the light was coming from a big, sturdy wooden cabin, a sign being viciously blown by the wind read that it was even a hotel. What are the odds?

“This is literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Leon yells as you both make a run for the cabin.

“I believe it!”

You almost fall with the amount of force that you and Leon enter the cabin with- both frantic to get out of the biting cold. You actually do fall, tumbling into a roll on the ground and snow scattering everywhere as Leon fumbles for the door and slams it shut before you bring too much of the storm inside.

Heavily breathing, you don’t even notice the lady behind the counter before she coughs.

Leon looks up with a beaming grin, laughing as he huffs and puffs, leaning against the door. “Hell of a storm, innit?”

Not the smartest thing to say, but the lady gives out an amused snort anyway.

“I’m assuming the two of you will be purchasing a room?” She tilts her head with a gleam in her eye. Something tells you that business isn’t going so well if she’s working in a hotel in the middle of nowhere and she’s still charging when you’re both obviously stranded- but hey, that’s life. You look up to Leon as you stay on the floor, hands on your chest as you continue to try and catch your breath.

“Let me see,” you huff and wheeze, “those Champion benefits,” another huff, “big guy.”

It’s not that funny but Leon laughs so hard that he starts to slide down the door, knees buckling beneath him, and you think that’s really funny so you start laughing too, rolling on the floor. The lady watches all the while, and if you notice a flying Rotom recording you while you and Leon lose your minds over nothing, you don’t say anything about it.

Once Leon manages to shuffle over and pay the woman at the desk after your post-adrenaline delirium, she gladly shows you over to your room. You’re suddenly feeling exhausted after trudging through a snowstorm, so you don’t pay much attention to what she says as she leads you there- but it’s not like you need to. Leon does most of the talking as he keeps you steady with an arm around your shoulder.

You don’t notice the look the woman gives you, nor do you notice the look Leon gives back. All you feel is the comforting rub of his hand on your arm, and it’s nice.

“Enjoy your stay, you two,” is the only thing you pick up from her before the door is shut and you’re left alone in your newly-purchased hotel room.

There’s an important detail here, and that detail is the fact that there’s only one bed, and you’ve never shared a bed with Leon before. Sure, you’re friends, but you’ve never been the cuddling-type of friends. This detail is completely missed by both of you as luck would have it because as soon as you and Leon manage to remove your clothes, you’re out like a pair of lights the second your backs hit the mattress.

No, the problem and important detail doesn’t really announce itself in your mind until morning comes. Well- afternoon, actually, if you managed to look at a clock.

When you awake- at first, it’s not strange. It’s not strange until you recognize the hand around your waist, hair in your face, and legs entwined with yours- which is definitely not something that’s a usual occurrence for you. Recognizing all of these details, your eyes snap open, and you begin to take in the situation as it is.

Leon and you both stripped down to your underwear, definitely cuddling, and definitely in the only bed available in the room as far as you can see. And from what you can tell with how the walls shake and the windows vibrate, the storm is still going strong.

Right.

“Leon,” your voice is hoarse from sleep as you smack your lips, your hand lifting up to shake Leon’s arm that’s wrapped tightly around your waist. “Leon, you daft idiot, wake up,”

“Mmmgh,”

“I’ll… I’ll steal all your Pokémon, and run off to another country. Wake up, Leon.” The threat is creative, but lacking any real malice behind it as you continue to shake Leon’s body. A few more rough shakes and he finally blinks his eyes open.

“Where… where am I?” He mumbles almost incoherently as he blinks a few more times, lifting himself up on his elbows as he takes in his surroundings. A bit of drool falls from the corner of his mouth.

It’s kind of cute, but also kind of gross, and Leon is still kind of on top of you in nothing but his underwear. You begin to wonder if he’s ever going to notice- but finally, his expression seems to come to life as his mind wakes up and he looks up and down your body again.

“...Right. Yeah, my bad.” Grunting, Leon finally rolls off you and to the other side of the bed. You want to laugh at the pinkness of his ears and cheeks if you weren’t vividly aware you probably looked exactly the same, so you bite your tongue for now. Apparently, the both of you have agreed to ignore your partial nudity for now as Leon holds his head in his hands, keeping his gaze off you as he asks, “why on Galar am I so tired?”

“Maybe we were supposed to die,” you snicker, sitting up yourself and bringing up the covers as you do, trying to stay somewhat-modest. “And now our brains are realizing we’re actually alive and it doesn’t know what to do.”

Despite himself, Leon giggles. “Yeah, maybe.”

The window shakes from more pressure of the storm outside. It gets your attention for sure, and you realize that you should probably check your phone to see when this storm would even end. Very, very slowly, you shuffle out of bed, analyzing the floor and looking at how scattered your clothes are. It takes your tired mind a minute to find your bag, but when you do, it’s not good news.

Of course there’s no service.

“Ugh,” you groan again. “This sucks.”

“Put on some clothes,” Leon says from the bed and you roll your eyes.

“They’re drenched, mate, and so are yours,”

Leon’s head snaps up from his hands at that. “Really?” You’ve got no reason to lie about that but he scatters toward his clothes anyway, feeling the damp and dirty texture of them with his own hands, as if that would change their outcome. You’re definitely not checking out his butt as he bends over to pick them up, because that would be silly and childish.

Very nice view, though.

Leon sighs. “Of course. Don’t suppose this hotel has a store of any sort?”

“Good one,” you laugh. “Probably not, but I’ll check the bathroom for robes-“

“Oh, let me do it,”

“Why?”

“I’ve really got to pee, mate,”

“Right on, then,” you point him toward the direction of the bathroom and Leon immediately makes himself sparse. You can only laugh as you watch him go, and while you wait, you gather all of your wet clothes and start to hang them all around the room so they might dry while you wait out the storm.

“Good news,” Leon comes out of the bathroom and you look over your shoulder, seeing him hold up two white, fluffy robes. He tosses one your way and you catch it easily, wrapping yourself up quickly and Leon follows suit. “So, roomie,” Leon raises a brow at you, hands on his hips, “what do we do now?”

You wave your phone that’s in your hand. “We got no service, so we should probably check in with that lady who was at the desk if she knows anything about the weather reports.” Your eyes move to look at the bed. “And maybe you should talk her into changing us to a room with two beds.” For both of your sakes.

“Right,” Leon nods. “Let’s go, then.”

More bad news, though. The lady didn’t know anything about the weather other than the fact that these storms usually lasted a day or two, so, in her own words, ‘if you’re lucky, you won’t be here much longer, but I can’t assure that. Also, you’re charged per night, per room.’

And all the rooms in this shotty little hotel only had one bed, so the idea of getting privacy at night was a lost cause. You weren’t the biggest fan of wasting your money or Leon’s on two rooms, anyway, especially since the owner seemed to be somewhat rude. So that’s nice.

‘At least she had food’, Leon had told you positively, and you suppose he was right. She had a rather weak list of a menu, but ‘at least there was a menu’ so you wouldn’t have to eat whatever berries you had in your bag. The two of you seemed to dance around the fact that you were going to most likely be sleeping partly nude again tonight, except this time you’ll both be a lot more awake and conscious of it. You distracted yourself with the mediocre food that tasted mildly burnt or undercooked, no in-between, and playing with what Pokémon could fit in your small hotel room instead until both of your eyes were drooping and you couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer.

“So.” You stand on one side of the bed, Leon on the other. Both of you stare at each other with your hands on your hips.

“So,” Leon nods.

“Should we… make rules?” Looking down at the bed and up at Leon, you know that technically you guys could try to stay on your side of the bed and probably not touch each other all night.

But you were keenly aware that this man is a cuddler and you had a subconscious habit to scoot over to the warmest thing while you slept, so it seemed like physical interaction was going to happen one way or the other.

“I think that’s a bit pretentious,” he scratches his chin and shrugs. His nonchalance is downplayed by the heat on his cheeks and the sweat on his temple. “It’s fine if we… Cuddle. Right?”

You suppose so. “I guess,” you purse your lips. “Typically friends cuddle with clothes on, though. And these robes are too awkward to sleep in.”

“I mean, we did it before.”

That’s true, but again, both of you were a bit delirious. But you can’t really argue with that, and you’re getting tired of dancing, so you nod and sigh. With a burst of courage, you square your shoulders, narrowing your eyes. Leon looks at you strangely before he squawks, his hands flying to cover his face when you remove your robe, the material falling and pooling around your feet.

“Some warning!” He chokes and coughs. You laugh through your embarrassment, quickly getting on the bed and under the covers.

“Come on. We could be sitting here all night. Lose the robe,” you cheer him on and Leon glares at you through the spaces of his fingers. “Lose the robe! Lose the robe!”

“Stop!” He laughs and you giggle along, but it slowly ebbs and abruptly comes to a halt when Leon does, in fact, lose the robe. It’s too much to ask for him to not notice how you stare, so of course he does- humming proudly as he snuggles under the covers. “Speechless?” Leon smiles.

“Don’t push it, I saw you ogling me the first time,”

He coughs when you smirk.

“Fine. Come here and cuddle me if you’re so smart.”

“Fine, I will!”

“Do it.”

“I’m gonna.”

The two of you lay under the covers, Leon’s arms open and beckoning, and you- frozen, not moving an inch. It’s not until he gives you a cocky look and starts to wiggle forward that you finally bite your lip and shove down your ego, rolling over to his side. It should be awkward, and it is, but only because the two of you somehow manage to fit together perfectly and that’s a bit odd. Your head resting against his collarbone, his arms wrapped snugly around your body, your legs entwined in a comfortable and fitting manner. It all happens almost instantaneously as if you’d both done this for years, as if it was a habit.

“Not that bad, right?” Leon murmurs in your ear and hums when your fingers trail little patterns across the skin of his waist and back. You mostly just did it to ease your nerves, not realizing how intimate the action was, but you figure it’s fine if Leon seems to like it. His hands explore your hair and the nape of your neck, the feeling making you curl further against him with a sigh.

“Not bad,” you whisper. “Still odd.”

He hums but doesn’t prod the conversation along any further.

Several odd minutes pass, your breathing slowing as your body relaxes against Leon’s. Right as you find yourself on that warm, lulling cusp of falling asleep, there’s a brushing feeling against the top of your head. Leon’s body shuffles and lowers on the mattress and you’re about to whine a complaint about him moving around so much- but you’re silenced by the feeling of lips against your forehead.

The hand that was previously teasing the skin of your neck trailed up and lightly grazed your cheek as Leon’s lips moved across your forehead to your brow. The actions are relaxing, yes, but your body tenses regardless because friends don’t do this.

“Leon,” your whisper is like a shout compared to the dark silence in the room. Leon freezes up instantly at the sound of it and when you open your eyes, his head is angled in a way with his lips still pressed against your temple so you can’t see his expression. “...What are you doing?” You lick your lips nervously.

“...I thought you were sleeping.” Is all he has to say. You can’t say anything in reply to that because it’s fairly obvious to the both of you that no, you weren’t sleeping. “Um.” The air that leaves his mouth is hot against your skin.

From where your head rests, snug against his chest, you can almost feel the thundering pace of his heart more than you hear it. You idly wonder if it’s possible for hearts to beat in sync with one another.

“Leon,” you say again when he doesn’t offer any explanation. He sucks in a shaky breath, his arm propping up from under him as he finally comes into your field of view; his eyes downcast and refusing to meet yours as he scoots away from you and lays his head back on his pillow. His hand lowers from your cheek down to your waist, touching your skin and then jolting back and insecurely moving against his chest, instead.

“Sorry,” he whispers, “that was a bit creepy.”

You remember the feeling of his heartbeat, and you don’t think that’s creepy at all.

You reach your hand forward, tenderly cupping Leon’s jaw as he had done to you. Finally, he looks at you- his golden irises shining like glowflies in the darkness. The moment held between you now is a stark contrast to the harsh snowstorm outside- if you strain your ear, you’d be able to hear the whistling of the wind and the creaking of the trees.

For now, all you can hear is your heart in your ears and the voice in your head saying kiss him, kiss him, kiss him.

You’re aware that friends don’t do this. They don’t look at each other like this and they don’t press their lips against each other so softly- meekly. Lovingly. Maybe if you’re experimenting, maybe if you’re a different type of friend. But you and Leon aren’t like that, you’ve never been like that.

So if things are different now, that’s something that’s a treasured secret between you, him, and the snow.

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lavendersuh · 4 years

Text

jaemin x reader | 70′s roller rink au | fluff | 2.8k words

part of @nct-writers neo’clock event!

warnings: none

summary: its the era of disco balls and groovy tunes, and you love working at your local roller skating rink. if only na jaemin wasn’t there to annoy you all the time.

note: hi friends!! i recently started roller skating this summer and it’s been so fun!! i finally was able to go to a roller rink (i masked up i promise!) but i wrote this beforehand while i was yearning to go haha. it was so fun and skating makes me so happy. i don’t think i’ve seen many roller skating aus so i hope you all enjoy!!

“Hey! Will you stop going the wrong way? I have kids learning to skate and you’re getting in their way!”

You huff out a heavy breath from your exercise. It’s always tiring to teach young kids to roller skate, but you enjoy the smiles it brought to their faces. One day soon they would be able to easily join the adults that waltzed across the shiny wooden floors.

Your job at the local roller rink is perfect. You love the smoky atmosphere and the big disco ball. You love hearing the latest groovy songs play over the speakers. You love being able to zoom around in your favorite bell bottom jeans and best pair of skates.

What you don’t enjoy is annoying boys that obnoxiously skate around the rink.

You look back at the boy in question. It isNa Jaemin, of course. The boy has been the bane of your existence since he came to the rink for the first time a little over two weeks ago.

Na Jaemin, with his blonde hair and constant grin, always so cocksure about everything. You had to admit, he’s an incredible skater, but you could never admit that to him.

Especially when he is doing everything in his power to annoy you at the present moment.

“Are you even qualified to teach people how to skate?” he asks, with narrow eyes, “Can you even go backwards?”

You know he’s just teasing, just trying to get a rise out of you, and you fall so easily into his trap every time.

“Of course I can go backwards Jaemin! That’s not what I’m teaching right now though!” you reply.

“Well then, I can do a demonstration!”

“Jaemin, no.”

“Jaemin, yes.”

You let out a sigh as you watch him show off in front of the kids. They were a nice little bunch, but they were easily distracted, especially when the distraction was putting on such a show.

Once again, you knew, it would be a long night.

Not even a week later, you encounter the nuisance again. Tonight, someone that usually works the food counter called off, meaning you’re stuck making hot dogs and grabbing bottles of cola for a bunch of little kids and teenagers. It wasn’t the worst job, but it certainly wasn’t your favorite.

Especially since you can’t just skate away when Jaemin comes around to annoy you.

You spot him skating around the rink with a few of his buddies, doing laps around the younger kids. You can’t help but roll your eyes.

The last you recalled, Jaemin never ordered much from the food counter when he was at the rink, so you assume he won’t bother you tonight. You couldn’t be more wrong.

You were back behind the pretzel machine when someone came up to the counter, ringing the bell to get your attention.

“I’ll be right there!” you call out, “What can I get for you?”

“A second of your time perhaps?”

You whip your head around to see Jaemin standing at the counter, a cheesy smile across his face. His hair is ruffled and wild, and he seems to be breathing a bit heavy from the exercise he was just doing.

You huff as you walk over to him, “Jaem, if you’re just going to annoy me, go away. Do you actually want any food?”

He doesn’t miss the small nickname that crosses your lips, but he doesn’t have time to think too hard about it. As always, he is on a mission.

“I wanted to show you my new skates!” he says, moving backwards a bit to show you the new boots, “Nice wheels, right?”

You can’t help the snort of amusement that comes out. The skates are bright yellow, with orange wheels and laces. They certainly will stand out under the glow of the neon lights and the disco ball over the wooden rink.

He starts moonwalking around in front of you, and you can’t help but marvel with a smile of your own at the skates and the silly boy in front of you. He must catch you staring, because he breaks you out of your trance by coming closer.

He says , “I wonder how fast I’ll be able to go in them.”

He bounds off towards the rink, zipping around the people on his new wheels. He looks back over to see if you are watching, causing a triumphant grin to grace his face when he realizes he still has your attention.

The only problem is, with his eyes on you instead of where he’s going, he nearly runs into an older lady, and quickly diverts his course to keep from crashing into her. His new skates take him directly towards the wall, sending him on a collision course with concrete.

His fall is anything but graceful, as his friends laugh at him. You also let out a chuckle of your own at the silly boy who will do anything for even an ounce of attention.

It is once again the end of a long day, and the quiet of the rink surrounds you. The music is turned off, and you’re the last one here, finishing up some cleaning before you finally go home.

You always loved being the last one at the rink. The roller rink was constantly alive with lots of people, lots of sounds, lots of activity. It was calming to be the only one, skating around the rink with a broom to wipe down the surface.

As you are making your way around the outside of the rink one last time, you hear a loud noise near the entrance to the building. You can’t help but grip the broom a little tighter, before you see Jaemin come through the door.

He glides over to the opening of the rink, his boombox in his hand. You do nothing but stare as he sets it up on the ground, pressing play before starting to skate. Finally he acknowledges your presence with a casual wave, like he isn’t here after hours or anything.

“What do you think you are doing?” you ask. “The rink closed ten minutes ago, and aren’t you tired? You were here all night.”

You couldn’t ignore the slip up you made, realizing you let it slip that you were aware of his presence all night. You didn’t need him thinking you were looking at him a lot, because you weren’t. Ever.

“I like skating to my own tunes.” he says, as nonchalant as ever.

He apparently doesn’t see a problem with the way things are unfolding, and you let out a huff.

“Oh my god, I’m trying to clean the floor! Can’t you just come back tomorrow?”

“Aw, so eager to see me again?” he smiles as he makes his way to you, “Anyways, I can help!”

He takes your broom, skating around while casually sweeping. You might not have brand new skates like him, but you easily catch up to him, snatching it back.

Why was he even here? Just like you had pointed out, he had been here all night. What was keeping him from going home like the rest of the crowd?

“Go, Jaemin!” you exclaim out of annoyance, “And take your annoying boombox with you!”

His face morphs into a pout at this, “You turned off the music, what was I supposed to do?”

“Go home?”

You glide over to the portable machine producing the loud disco music, turning off the switch. You manage to pick it up, shoving the boombox towards Jaemin.

“Jaemin, I’m begging you, go home! I can’t clean if you are still here, and I want to go home, too.”

He must see the exhausted look in your eye behind all of your annoyance, because he rolls over to you.

Jaemin grabs his boombox again, “Am I too much of a distraction if I sit on the bench?”

He gestures to the bench just outside of the rink, where little kids often tied their laces. For some reason, he just doesn’t want to leave, so you nod your head.

He sits down, and turns on his boombox again while doing so. He turns the volume down lower, and looks out at you, jokingly saluting you in a promise to not be bothersome.

You roll your eyes, finally resuming your cleaning.

As you clean, Jaemin talks aimlessly. He talks about his classes at the local university next fall, and about how he just can’t figure out how to land a specific jump on his skates.

While you were reluctant to let him stay, his presence ends up being really nice. His voice is soft as it fills the empty building, and as you both walk out to your cars after locking up, you are grateful to have someone by your side.

It feels a little weird that you are having nice thoughts about the boy who is constantly a pain in your side, but you ignore the slight upbeat in your heart rate when he bids you goodnight.

You throw him a smile as you get into your car, “Goodnight, Jaem.”

It is once again a slow Tuesday night, and you are almost about ready to fall asleep at the admissions counter. Every so often you are assigned a shift in the ticket lobby, which you don’t mind typically. On a weekend day, you would be busy taking care of admissions for people as they came and went.

The rink is not busy today.

And you’re about to doze off.

You sigh. The one day you don’t have a book or a newspaper or any homework to do.

You find yourself brushing off invisible dust from your new vest and turtleneck outfit when you hear the door chime, signaling a new customer. You look up from your seat.

Of course, it is Na Jaemin.

“Hey, are you stuck out here today?” he asks, his skate laces tied together to rest over his left shoulder.

“Yeah, it's so boring tonight, kinda empty too, but at least that means you won’t plow into a sixth grader again.” you smile.

“That was one time!” he says, also grinning at the memory.

He pulls out some money for admission and you hand him the paper wristband to show he paid and brought his own skates. Just as he is about to walk through the door to get to the rink, he pauses.

“Hey, uh, what’s your favorite song to skate to?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck. He tries to explain his reasoning, “Maybe if I play it on my boombox, you won’t make me turn it off.”

You let out a chuckle, “I’ll still probably make you turn it off.”

“Y/N, can you please just answer the question?” Jaemin seems serious now.

And while you are taken aback by the change from his normally aloof demeanor, you clear your throat, “Okay, umm, I really love that new movie Grease, right now. Have you seen it? There’s this one song that’s kinda slow, ‘Hopelessly Devoted to You,’ and it’s really pretty and fun to just skate around the rink to.”

You flush out of embarrassment for the cheesy song choice, but Jaemin nods with a smile. You ignore your traitorous heart reminding you that you had definitely played your Grease soundtrack cassette tape a few too many times since meeting Jaemin. There was definitely no correlation.

“That song is nice.” he says, before turning away and heading into the rink, leaving you alone at the ticket counter once again.

A few days later you once again are stuck at the ticket counter. And finally, your shift is over. The ticket counter was nice every once in a while, but you feel tired of standing there, especially more than once in a week. You much preferred the satisfying exhaustion that came from being on wheels for your entire shift.

The staff has mostly gone home, even your boss who just needed to lock up the cash office. You had offered to lock up the building after he left, since you felt like skating for a bit before going home.

There is something about skating on the wooden floor when no one else is around. It is entirely quiet, with the music turned off, just the sound of your wheels spinning., And peaceful, with the air clear of cigarette smoke and loud screams of children playing. It was calming.

Your calm is interrupted by soft music coming from near the entrance. It’s only when you see Jaemin’s face and his stupidly large boombox that you realize what song it is.

Your favorite song.

You can’t help the goofy smile that spreads across your face as he skates over, leaving the boombox on the ledge of the rink wall, coming over to you as ‘Hopelessly Devoted to You,’ echoes throughout the building.

He’s mouthing the lyrics as he skates to you, his eyes bright with mischief and something else that you can’t quite place.

“Hey,” he says once he’s finally in front of you, “Can I join? It seemed a little quiet in here.”

For some reason, this flusters you, as you look at his ruffled hair and jean jacket. “Uh, yeah sure.”

With your approval, he begins skating, beckoning you to follow him. The song ends, but starts up again, and you give Jaemin a questioning look.

“I made a mixtape of this song on loop a couple of times,” he says, running a hand through his hair leisurely, like that’s the most normal thing in the world for someone to do. “It’s nice right?”

It makes you smile regardless. The two of you skate around for a bit, simply going around the rink as you would if lots of people were there. It’s comfortable, you realize, with just the two of you all alone.

Finally on the third loop of the song, Jaemin comes a little closer, and grabs your hand quickly, as if unsure that he is able to do that. You squeeze his hand in reassurance.

It’s strange, wherever this night is going, but you can’t remember a time that you seemed happier to be at the rink.

“I recall you mentioning you can skate backwards, yes?” Jaemin asks, after a few moments.

“Yes, of course—” you begin, but stop talking when he spins you to skate backwards in front of him, causing you to let out a slight squeal at the change.

It’s almost like dancing in a way, as he pushes the two of you forward around the rink and you impulsively grip his shoulders to make sure you can keep your balance.

Eventually, the two of you slow down, and he leads a few spins, which sends laughter through the air and chills down your spine. It's hard to believe just a few weeks ago this boy was the most annoying pain in your side.

The boombox finally goes quiet after its few repeats of the song, and the building is plunged into silence again, as you stand in front of Jaemin with a small smile and a sweaty complexion.

The neon lights glow around you and Jaemin’s face turns serious. He readjusts his grip on your waist, sliding ever so slightly closer to you.

“I’m sorry I was an asshole at the beginning.” he says, just above a whisper to be heard by only you, “I didn’t know how else to get your attention. Finally I changed the plan to this, and I think it’s working out better.”

“The plan?” you ask, your brain cloudy from his proximity.

He has the nerve to look bashful, making his face even more cuter, “I’ve, uh, kinda liked you for a while, and I needed a plan to tell you and see if you felt the same.”

You smile, moving your left hand from his shoulder to his jawline, stroking his cheeky tenderly. Every piece of him that you touch leaves a burning feeling within your heart, and you finally are thinking you know how to fix it.

With a bold move like when he picked up your hand, you touch your lips to his, letting them sit there for a moment. It’s a chaste kiss, leaving Jaemin to decide what to do next.

He deepens the kiss, smiling as he fully wraps his arms around you and keeps you from sliding away by using his toe stops.

The disco ball overhead isn’t turning anymore, and the music that typically fills the roller rink isn’t playing, but you’ve never found the rink more spectacular in your life. It’s not the atmosphere of the rink that you love, but the people within.

And right now, the person in front of you is your favorite.

#nct-writers #neoclock #neo-constellations #neothestars #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #jaemin #nct fanfic #nct x reader #nct scenarios #jaemin scenarios #nct dream #nct #nct dream x reader #jaemin fluff #nct dream fluff #fluff #my writing

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Text

Nemesis - Part 4

Based on the votes from Part 3, option B was chosen-- Hero will lie to Leader, and trust Hacker. But time is running out, and they must make their move fast. Perhaps, however, they have moved too fast.

Thanks so much to everyone for reading, and special thanks to @whumpilicious for coming up with Hero’s plan!

CW//Mentions of breakups, mentions of concussions, crude jokes, shapeshifting, forced sedation

“No. They need to be here.”

“And why would that be?”

Hero’s attempt to suppress a shiver failed as a single bead of frigid sweat ran down the back of their neck.

They could tell Leader the truth. Hell, they would likely never get a chance as good as this one. The leader of an entire team would be an incredibly powerful asset, an incredibly powerful ally. They could have Villain out of there before Hero could blink.

Or, they could lock them away in some underground bunker, never again to be seen by human eyes.

It was an untenable risk. If Villain was ever going to be saved, Leader needed to remain ignorant.

When had they started thinking of this as a rescue mission?

They expected that realization to make them feel sick, but it did anything but. Instead, it reaffirmed their decision.

“There’s a reason the rehab facility is in the city.” Hero finally replied, after a long moment of shaky-eyed staring. “If anything happens, we’re close by. I’m sure the villains housed there are well aware of that fact. Moving Villain farther away... it’d put them even further out of my sight. It’d make my worries far worse, I assure you.”

Leader raised a brow, looking down at Hero a moment, as if studying a particularly interesting piece of artwork. At last, they nodded.

“I may not understand why you are so worried about this hypothetical escape plan, but I will humor you.”

“You won’t say anything to Director?”

“I will not give Director my opinion on the matter. But it is my duty to report your performance. The terms they outlined are very clear. If you do not stop distracting yourself with this silly venture within the week, Villain’s transfer will go ahead. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

Hero bit their lip.

“Do you report... everyone’s performance?”

“Everyone under my command? Yes.”

“But there’s dozens of teams.”

“I am aware.”

“Surely Director does not look over everyone’s performance reports.”

Leader’s mouth pursed.

“They are very busy, so I assume they do not.”

“Did you mention my performance to them?”

“No.” A crescendo of discomfort seemed to reach its peak within Leader, whose gaze quickly moved downwards, to the table.

Hero felt their ears grow red, yet they could not stop themself from pushing.

“They noticed on their own.”

“Yes.”

“The others have had slips, before. Remember when Teammate broke up with their partner? Or when Other Teammate had their concussion?”

“Of course I remember.”

“Did Director say anything then?”

“No. What’s with all the questions? I don’t know why Director is so worried about you, but it’s not my job to question their motives. It’s my job to make sure that the city stays safe, and that you keep your eyes on the road.”

Hero suddenly felt awfully lightheaded.

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“Just one.”

“Have you ever met Director?”

A moment of silence resounded as the gears in Leader’s head ground.

“No. No one has. We communicate only over E-mail.”

“Wait, one more question.”

Leader frowned.

“Do you have any pictures of Director?”

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“This is like, the equivalent of walking into the White House and pretending to be the President. You know that, right? You get that?”

Hacker’s voice was even more high-pitched and anxiety-twinged than usual.

“I am well aware.” Hero nodded.

They were well aware of how stupid the idea was, but they hoped that wasn’t evident in their voice. That was the only thing that really mattered, considering that they were currently speaking to Hacker on the phone, though it didn’t stop them from struggling to keep their shoulders level and their gaze steady.

“And you still want to do it. You still want to walk into the White House and pretend to be the President.”

“You’re really proud of that metaphor, aren’t you?”

“A little. Answer the question, though.”

Hero exhaled, exasperated.

“Yes. I’m doing this. There’s no choice.”

“Your hesitation went away really fast. Did you finally grow a pair of balls or-”

“We only have a week.”

“Oh, god. There’s a time limit now?”

“It’s a long story, but, TLDR is, Villain needs out of there in the next week.”

“Otherwise?”

“They’ll be transferred out of the city. Out of our reach.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. Damn indeed.”

“Well, then, what do we need to do?”

“Did you grow a pair, too?”

“Maybe. I’m not about to go guns blazing with you, but... Let’s just say I’m invested in how this all turns out. Any help I can offer from behind a screen, I’ll do it. Are you sure we only have a week? Is there any other option?”

“Well... The ultimatum is that if I don’t get my performance up in the next week, they’re going away. The Organization’s director thinks it’ll help me.”

“Then just get your performance up?” Hacker sounded perplexed.

“It’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

Hero gritted their teeth.

The way Hacker spoke, it made the situation sound so simple. As if Hero could just decide to forget years of fighting, of... of whatever they and Villain had. They couldn’t just go on. They should have been able to. Anyone else would have been able to.

But they couldn’t. They knew that their best efforts would not be enough to keep Villain within striking distance, no matter how much sweat they poured in.

“Because... Because I know it isn’t. And, besides, the sooner we get them out of there, the better.”

“If you say so, boss. What do we gotta do?”

“Can you send a fake email? Make it look like it’s from someone important?”

“In my sleep. What do you need?”

“Tell the rehab unit that they’re to expect a very special visitor.”

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It was a stupid plan. Just as stupid as walking into a hostage situation pretending to be a reporter.

But, in the end, that plan had worked. Just not quite in the way they had wanted it to.

On the outside, the appearance of the rehab center had not changed a bit. Even the childish artworks in the windows remained static, untouched by the hands that had supposedly created them.

Yet, despite the appearance remaining unmoving, when Hero gazed upon the brightly-painted structure and its white picket fence, they could not help but feel as though they had swallowed a stone.

It all felt so wrong. A vicious Villain contained in such a cutesy building. If Villain themself knew, they likely would have been sick. Or furious. Or sick and furious.

If everything went right... they would know, soon.

That was all the plan that Hero had worked out. They had an entrance plan, and a car. Thinking ahead of that made them feel awfully lightheaded. Besides, future thinking like that was far too optimistic for their tastes. If, and only if, they made it out of this alive, then they would think ahead.

Until then, their future plans consisted only of what step they were to take after the current one.

“Do you have visual?” Hero whispered.

“You don’t have to be so quiet.” Hacker’s voice crackled in their ear. “You’re still in the car, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just don’t want them to think I’m talking to myself like some kind of nutcase.”

“Maybe Director is a nutcase. No one knows. That’s what you’re basing this whole gimmick on, right?”

Hero sighed. “Just about.”

They pulled down the car’s sun visor, flipping up the little panel that covered the miniature mirror embedded within. Even with how long they had had their powers, they did not think they would ever get used to looking in the mirror and staring upon a face that was not their own.

Director’s face looked awfully like it belonged on the front of a magazine. Well-cropped black hair, a curling, defined jawline that led to ears adorned by modest steel studs.

“What time is it?”

“Can’t you look at a clock?”

“I want to make sure I have the disguise right.”

“Well, they’re expecting you in about five minutes. Do you think Director is early? Or punctual? Or-”

“I think if I sit in here for another second, I’m going to lose it.”

“Guess they’re gonna be early, then.” A nervous sigh. “Are you ready for this?”

“I think so. You’ve got point, right?”

“Yep. They’ve got their security stuff pretty well protected from remote infiltration, but so long as you’re nearby the building itself, I should be able to see everything the cameras can see.”

“What are you... what are going to do if I fail?”

“I think I’m the last thing you should be worrying about, in that scenario.”

“No. You’re a civilian.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, and last time you were calling me a criminal.”

“That’s not... don’t worry about that. Right now, you’re a civilian, and you don’t need to get yourself wrapped up in all this nonsense. So, in the very real event that I fail, what are you going to do to protect yourself?”

“I... I can cut the connection. The thing in your ear, it’ll look like nothing more than a normal earbud. Is that good enough for you?”

“Yes.”

“And, once you’re in there, don’t reply to anything I say. Not unless everything goes terribly wrong.”

“Got it.”

“Now, we ready for real?”

Hero gave a sharp nod.

“Let’s do this.”

Stepping out of the vehicle, they forgot just how tall they were in this form. They could change into all forms of animals, operate just fine as bird or beast, but existing in the form of another person never ceased feeling terribly odd to them.

They didn’t do it very often. But, this time, it was the only choice they had. And if no one had heard Director’s voice before... then their plan should work just fine.

It was far too many ifs and shoulds for their taste, but that wasn’t important. Not while Villain was still in there.

Hero slammed the car door as authoritatively as they could manage, keeping their gait even and steady, even as they moved in an uncomfortably restrictive suit.

They were at the door far too quickly. They settled their jaw, then, and entered the White House, pretending to be the President.

Behind the front desk was seated the same labcoat, though, now, they had a far more formal posture to them. Upon Hero’s entrance, they seemed confused on whether to salute or bow. After a few nervous moments, they settled for a simple:

“Hello.”

Hero flashed Director’s pearly white smile.

“Good afternoon. I hope I’m not too late?”

“O- Oh, of course not. It’s an honor to have you visit our humble facility.” Labcoat’s ears grew rapidly red in hue. “Would you like a tour, maybe? Or to meet with our head doctor? Or-”

“Oh, no, none of that will be necessary. I am sure we are both far too busy for all those formalities. You must run a very tight ship, here. It is very nice.”

“Thank you! Thank you, sir.”

“Of course. But, no. I do not need the tour. Perhaps another time. For now, I do not have all too long. Would you be kind enough to show me to Villain’s room?”

“Of course, sir.” Labcoat leapt up from their seat, still looking as though they wanted to bow. “It’s just this way, if you would please follow me. If that’s okay.”

Hero nodded in gratitude, following Labcoat through the steel door that led to the rest of the facility.

There was considerably more life to the building’s various rooms, compared to the last time they had visited. The common room at the front saw a group of villains stiffly sitting around a board game, moving the pieces at an agonizingly slow pace. Another watched an old movie on the television, their posture oddly perfect.

Hero tried their best not to show their discomfort.

Instead of leading them straight, into the dining hall, Labcoat turned left to one of the patient wings. The two of them walked past what must have been twenty doors, each of which had a name plaque upon its surface, stating proudly who resided within.

The door at the end of the hall did not have such a name. Instead, it had a simple label.

‘43′

Room 43. Villain’s own personal hell.

“Would you like company? Or would you like your visit to remain private?” Labcoat ducked their head as they spoke.

“Private, if you would not mind.”

“Of course not! Whatever you say, sir. When you are ready to leave just knock, uh, on the door. I’ll let you out. If that’s okay, um, or I could- Actually, no I don’t want you to have to knock. How about this.”

Hero felt their stomach twist, the organ confused about just how well the plan had turned out. To their great surprise, Labcoat reached within a pocket, producing a small metal key.

“Just use this.”

“Thank you very much.” Hero dipped their head, taking the key in turn. Like a mouse skittering from a cat, Labcoat was gone in an instant.

Hero was alone, outside the door. Their stomach sickened, though this time it was not from surprise.

Their plan was going perfectly! They couldn’t have hoped for better. They even had a key, and...

And they couldn’t do it. They felt their legs to be frozen in place, their mind instead filled with a spiraling cascade of images. Images of what their nemesis used to be.

And now...

“Hero.” The voice in their ear was soft. “Villain needs you.”

Hero nodded. They placed their hand upon the knob, and turned.

A gust of sterile air wafted out. Hero entered, closing the door behind themself.

Leaving themself alone with Villain. Some small part of them expected a witty one liner, a passive-aggressive joke. But there was none; only the mechanical whirring of medical machines.

And the slightest rise and fall of their nemesis’ chest.

They did not tell their legs to bring them to Villain’s bedside, but that is where they ended up. On the security footage they had seen, it had been nearly impossible to see their unconscious nemesis’ face.

Now, they had the best view in the world.

Some part of Hero had expected peace. Expected their former foe to have been spending their unconsciousness in a state of bliss. Certainly not an ideal state, but a comfortable one.

Instead, Villain’s closed eyes twitched, tiny movements flickering through their fingers. 375 days, and they were still fighting.

Of course they were. They would never stop fighting.

Hero didn’t notice as their hand reached out, practically on its own. Villain’s hand was cold.

Their face... everything about their face was too perfect. Too clean. Their mouth was locked in a permanent, blank frown. Their brows twitched, but did nothing more than that.

Villain’s eyes did not open.

Hero squeezed their hand tighter. The heartbeat monitor registered the slightest quickening of pace.

It was a knocking that broke Hero from their trance. They dropped Villain’s hand, stumbling backward, turning just as the room’s door opened to reveal a pair of blue scrubs.

Head Doctor smiled.

“Friend.” They chirped. “I’m so glad you could come visit. I missed seeing you, last week, but I understand how busy you are this time of year. How are you finding everything?”

Hero gulped.

Their imitations were perfect. They knew that, and they were quite proud of that fact. Just about any animal, they replicated with ease, and they could morph their face to match that of anyone they so chose to copy.

Appearances were easy. But there was one limit to shapeshifting.

Hero could not imitate voices.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. The option that receives the most votes will be the choice that our Hero makes!

A.) Hero is too far in. Keep up the ruse - How should Hero explain their voice?

B.) There’s no way to get out of this. Take the risk and run! - How should Hero make their escape?

#whump #whumpee #whumpblr #whump community #choose your own adventure #choose your own whump #nemesis #hero villain whump #villain whumpee #drugged whumpee

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m0srael · 3 years

Text

Torch Your Inhibitions

2k | E | Read on Ao3

Third installment for @magpiefngrl's 2021 Summer Writing Challenge. Prompts: Bonfire + Sex Pollen + Unreliable Narrator. I joked about making this just a whole lotta nature-based group sex and...well... Thanks @nv-md and @devilrising for making this even better!

“Malfoy, are you sure the invitation says no pants allowed?” Harry says to the mirror as he grimaces and tightens the rope holding his robe closed around his hips.

“Yes, Luna has been very clear about the order of this evening’s events, and frankly it just seems... neater to me. You disagree?”

Harry forgets to reply for a moment, distracted by the broad swath of pale chest Draco’s own robe has left exposed, one hard, pink nipple on full display. Draco doesn’t notice that Harry’s jaw has gone slack as he’s too busy readjusting himself under the thick, burgundy fabric that makes his hair seem more golden than usual.

“Well, I mean, she’s not going to check, is she?” Harry manages to say, despite the marked blood deficit in his brain. “Bloody hell, what am I saying, it’s Luna of course she’d check.”

“Right. So…” Draco murmurs , matter-of-factly, as he moves to stand close behind Harry, making eye contact in the mirror, “knickers off, Potter.”

Harry tells himself he doesn’t know what Draco is about to do, but the moment he feels the fabric shift against his arse he freezes, hoping beyond hope that he has guessed correctly.

“Alright?” Draco whispers on a smirk into his bare shoulder as an unsupressable shudder shakes through Harry.

Harry can’t speak, so he just nods.

Draco slowly gathers up the bottom of Harry’s robe in his fingers until he can slip his hands underneath it, letting it cascade down his wrists. He hooks his thumbs in the elastic band where it wraps around Harry’s hips.

Harry’s eyes fall closed as Draco’s fingers drag against his skin, down and down Harry’s thighs, until his pants fall to the ground.

Draco makes a soft sound. When Harry’s eyes fly open he realizes that Draco’s gaze is fixed to the tent in his loose robe, all the more obvious now that his cock is free.

“Steady, Potter. We haven’t even made it to the party yet,” Draco growls, before turning quickly and stalking out of the bedroom.

Harry groans and covers his flaming face, letting his head thunk against the wardrobe door. He doesn’t understand what it all means.

He and Draco have been living together for a year and a half. For the first six months they avoided one another almost entirely. The eight or so months after that had been punctuated by short, fiery conversations as they felt each other out, slowly arriving at some mutual understanding and even cautious friendship.

The last few months, including the very moment Harry finds himself in presently, have been an unending nightmare. He never realized how tactile Draco is with friends, but he touches Harry all the time.

When Draco needs a glass from the cupboard over Harry’s head, he plants one hot palm firmly on Harry’s lower back to steady himself. When they sit on the couch watching films, Draco always slides his cold feet under Harry’s thigh for warmth. It only takes half a pint at the pub before Draco’s leaning into Harry’s side, and another half before Draco drops his head onto Harry’s shoulder and presses his nose into Harry’s throat.

Draco also apparently has some aversion to closed doors. Harry is sure it has something to do with growing up in the Manor, being shut in for so long with such terrible people. It doesn’t really bother Harry, who also hates feeling trapped.

Though...he did accidentally walk in on Draco in the shower, mid-wank, last week.

Harry had stood, mesmerized in the doorway, watching for longer than he would ever admit (even to himself). He only averted his eyes when Draco noticed him, and said, “Are you going to stand there gaping, or are you going to help, Potter?” He laughed mockingly as Harry hurried down the hallway shouting apologies.

A tiny part of Harry’s brain recognizes Draco’s behavior as flirtatious. The other part--the louder part--knows that never in a million years would Draco Malfoy share Harry’s secret desires. This is just how Draco is with everyone. Harry only started to notice it once they lived in the same house.

“Harry...I know you told me to stop asking, but...you’re sure you’re okay with this? You want to go? The details of the ritual were pretty clear, and Luna did say that no one was obligated to--”

Gods, did Draco think he was that naive and squeamish? No, he would see this through, if only to prove a point.

“Yeah, yep...yes. I’m okay. I mean, I want to go. I’m...curious. NO! I mean, well...I want to...support Luna, so…” Harry trails off as he joins Draco on the front steps.

“Uh huh. Convincing,” Draco smirks, “if you want to leave, you can. Okay?” he finishes in that soft, pedantic way of his before taking Harry’s hand and apparating them to the coordinates from Luna’s invitation.

Luna had insisted everyone arrive rested and well-hydrated, and Harry was glad he’d taken her advice.

Before the sunlight faded completely, they set up the May Day altar together, followed Luna in a series of prayers for fertility and abundance, and danced around the maypole. Neville had even brought everyone a seedling to plant somewhere in the forest or take home to plant in their garden.

Harry would be feeling a little silly about all the neo-pagan pageantry, if his stomach weren’t tying itself into knots the further the sun falls below the horizon.

Before he knows it, Seamus is tossing a lit torch onto a giant pile of logs in the center of the forest clearing.

“Happy May Day, everyone!” Luna sing-songs as they all assemble around the bonfire.

She reaches into a fold in her robe and pulls out a small pouch.

“It’s time for the most important rite of the evening. I hope you all took the time to read the pamphlet I included with your invitation. If you’d like to forgo participation, I suggest you step away from the fire before we begin. If anyone is still unsure about what this part of the evening entails, please let me know now! There are no silly questions!”

Harry watches as a few people say their goodbyes and apparate away. He lifts one foot slightly as if to move away from the fire before catching Draco’s eyes across the circle. His brow is furrowed—he looks upset. His eyes are glowing in the firelight and he flicks his tongue out along his bottom lip. Harry plants his feet, nodding slightly as if to say yeah, I’m okay, I’m staying.

“Alright, everyone! Take the hands of the people beside you!”

Harry’s hand closes around Neville’s on one side and Pansy’s on the other. He makes eye contact with Neville and can’t stop the manic, high-pitched laugh that ekes its way out of his throat. Neville just smiles warmly and squeezes his hand. Harry’s stomach flutters.

“Have you all got the kits we sent with your invitations?” The group murmurs affirmatively. “Good! Just in case, there are extras in the basket over there! Can’t be too careful!” says Luna as she opens the pouch and dumps sparkling powder onto the fire.

The flames turn a brilliant deep purple color and leap up six or seven feet, giving off thick plumes of lavender smoke. Neville inhales and sighs deeply.

Harry closes his eyes and lets the fragrant smoke overwhelm his senses. He feels a soft breeze caress his hot skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He gasps as his robe rustles around his thighs.

Every ounce of nervousness melts out of him and into the earth. He’s distantly aware that there are people moving around him but he can’t be bothered to open his eyes and look at them; he feels better than he’s ever felt in his life.

Gentle fingers slide into his hair, making his mouth fall open to receive an eager tongue.

“Harry…” Neville whispers into his mouth before kissing him soundly. They stand for a while, lips sliding over each other’s mouths and palms moving over each other’s bodies.

“Mm, s’good…” Harry slurs as someone unties the rope around his hips and slides his robe off. He shivers at the sudden kiss of cool air and curling smoke.

When he finally pries his eyes open his view is full of the top of Neville’s head, now on his knees in front of Harry. Harry rolls Neville's head in his palms until their glassy eyes meet. Harry hadn’t realized he was so hard--he groans as Neville takes him in hand and begins to stroke him lazily.

A hand slides around his chest from behind and a soft, warm body presses flush against his back.

“I always thought you were fit...” Pansy mouths against the back of his neck. Her small fingers tease his nipples as she rolls her naked body against his.

Harry shivers again when the thick smoke parts and his eyes land on Draco across the fire. He’s kissing Seamus deeply, one hand wrapped around the back of his head, as he strokes them both with one hand. He gasps when Draco opens his eyes and turns his head slightly to look right at him.

Making sure he didn’t chicken out, probably.

Harry’s head falls back onto the top of Pansy’s as Neville takes him into his mouth, inch by inch, humming around him. Harry’s first orgasm rolls through him almost without his knowledge, every cell in his body pulsing as Neville moans and licks him through it. He watches as Neville pulls off and strokes himself to completion, one hand gripping Harry’s thigh tightly.

He’s on his knees in front of Pansy, who he’s backed into a tree at the edge of the clearing, his face wet and hot, when he hears that voice.

“My loves,” Draco purrs. The clearing is filled with the sounds of heavy panting and urgent moans.

As Draco leans over Harry’s shoulder to kiss Pansy, his cock rests hot and heavy on Harry’s shoulder. Harry slides his tongue out of Pansy, replacing it with two fingers, to press his mouth to Draco’s throbbing flesh. Draco curls his fingers in Harry’s hair, pulling hard.

“Harry...need you…now...” Draco pants, pulling his head further back so they can make eye contact. Pansy moans loudly and Harry can feel her tighten around him, hips rocking forward onto his fingers.

Draco pulls Harry away from the clearing, the light and sounds from the bonfire growing distant and muffled. He urges Harry onto his back on the forest floor before straddling his hips.

“So...beautiful,” breathes Harry as he runs appreciative hands over Draco’s scarred chest, “want you so much…”

“Want you too, for so long, Harry,” Draco replies as he pops open the cap of the little bottle of lube Luna had sent them. The handmade label reads ‘A Happy May Day is a Lubricated One!’ complete with little drawings of butterflies.

“What?” replies Harry, hands stilling in confusion.

Harry can’t temper the sound that tears out of him as Draco wraps his wet hand around them both and begins to roll his hips. Harry thinks he’ll come again from that alone, but before he can Draco’s hand is gone.

“Aren’t you glad, now, that you listened to the no-pants rule--ah--Potter?” Draco quips as he lowers himself slowly onto Harry.

“Mmmm, yes, yes you were right,” hisses Harry as waves of heat and sensation roll up his spine.

“There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Draco teases on a breathy laugh that quickly becomes a low moan.

Harry’s hips press up to meet Draco’s every slow, languorous thrust. Harry drifts, pulled under by Draco’s fingers and his lips at Harry’s ear whispering all kinds of incredible things.

You’re all I want, Harry. Need you, all the time, not just tonight. Please, I’m yours, I’m yours, Harry.

When Harry comes, he cradles Draco’s face in his hands, open mouth pressed against the corner of Draco’s mouth. Draco immediately follows, breathing out Harry’s name again, and again.

Harry can’t stop the laugh that forces its way out of his chest, and he’s delighted when Draco laughs along with him, folding forward to rest his forehead against Harry’s.

When Harry wakes up the next morning his memory of the night before is complete in his mind, but it feels wrapped in a purple-tinted haze. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s not alone in his bed--Draco is tucked up against his side, breathing gently.

Harry turns to watch him sleep in silence for a moment, finally admitting to himself that Draco really had been flirting with him the whole time. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but he doesn’t want to wake Draco.

It takes him a moment to notice that Draco’s eyes have blinked open sleepily.

“Mine?” whispers Harry.

“Yours, Harry.”

#2021 summer writin #drarry fic rec #drarry fanfic #drarry #Luna doesn't f*ck around when it comes to bonfires #Except that she does if you know what I mean #mosewrites

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venushasvixens · 4 years

Text

Ch. 6 Confliction - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

[A/N] I really want to give a huge, huge thank you to @tebdundy on tumblr for editing and dealing with my constant check ups and stuff, you are so amazing for helping me. It means a whole lot. You can find more of me on instragram, wattpad, and AO3 (under the same username). Okay, onto the chapter!

WARNING: a lot of angst, rejection

Your ship was on fire. Every belonging, every single thing you had worked so hard for was gone. Your guns, clothes, even appliances you had never given a second thought, gone. And it hit you like a shot. The moment you took in that your ship was on fire, you shut down. Your mind began to wander. What did I do to deserve this? Why is this happening to me?

The next thing you could remember was Spike shaking your shoulders to snap you back to reality. You struggled to form a response. You tried to open your mouth, give some indication that you could feel and see him. In reality, the only thing you could really feel was a dull ache in your spine, each vertebrae mounting with an odd, uncomfortable pain.

The shock was setting in.

You blinked, eyes glassy as you watched firefighters put your ship out of her misery. There was no noise. You couldn't feel your fingertips, your face. You couldn't feel anything. Just that dull ache creeping up your spine.

Thoughts spiraled through your aching head, moving so quickly you could hardly keep up. It felt like you were at war with yourself, trying to keep yourself conscious and cognizant of the situation, while you sank deeper and deeper into your head.

This is just a small hiccup.

Just an obstacle that needed to be conquered, a hurdle you needed to jump over.

This is all your fault, you’ll never bounce back.

Everything happens for a reason, right?

Maybe if you hadn’t been so stupid.

You always ruin everything for yourself.

You might as well give up now.

There’s no coming back from this one.

You’re a disappointment.

You’ve failed.

It ate you up like a starving monster devouring a poor soul who crossed its path. Dark tendrils of shame, anger, and sadness weaved into your head, wrapping around your mind and tightening with every passing second. You were going to drown.

Push it down. Push it down. Grieve later. Think now. Grieve later. Think now.

You needed to figure out what you were going to do next. You needed to get out of your head. You desperately tried to claw your way out of this state. Taking a deep breath, you tried to make sense of the chaos around you.

You were sitting on the ground, a blanket draped over your shoulders. You felt the cold stone of the dock under your legs, felt the itchiness of the thick wool wrapped around you. You watched as Jet ran over to Spike, shouting over the sounds of panic that had flooded your head just moments before. Spike was staring at you, his face riddled with concern. You heard him call your name. You didn’t respond.

It was usually so hard to read him, to figure out what he was feeling. But now, it was so incredibly clear. You saw the emotions flashing in his eyes as he called for you again. Loss, guilt, despair, mania, heartbreak.

You felt Jet’s strong hand on your shoulder, shaking it gently.

"Hey kid, you okay?" He said, his brows furrowed.

You swallowed. Do not cry. Do not cry. Wait until you're alone. Push it down.

"I think...I think— a glass of water."

"How much do you have?"

"About 200,000 woolong."

"Well, that ain't much."

"Well, I wasn’t expecting to lose everything I own."

You sipped your coffee slowly as you, Spike and Jet discussed a solution to your giant, unavoidable problem. No matter how much you told them that you were okay and could take care of yourself, they insisted on helping you. Deep down, you appreciated it, because you definitely weren’t okay and wouldn’t be able to take care of yourself, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself.

You picked at the eggs on your plate, imagining sleeping in your own bed right now. Wearing your favorite shirt. Eating breakfast in your small kitchen. Watching the morning news in your room. Maybe have someone with you, showing him everything you owned like an excited child because you were so proud of how far you came from your first bounty to now. Things you’ll never be able to do again.

You felt silly and materialistic, mourning the loss of your belongings. But when you worked so hard for something you wanted for so long, building it up over the years, and losing it all in seconds? It's very hard to not mourn.

You had tried to pack light, to not become attached to material possessions. That was one of the first things that you were told by other bounty hunters. When you had first considered entering this god-forsaken profession, you sought out the help of any bounty hunter you came across, trying to glean any useful knowledge from those more experienced than you. You got too comfortable and started to ignore that piece of advice, and now you’re crying over some clothes and dishes.

But your keepsakes, your souvenirs. Ties to your troubled past. Memories of old friends, places, and happy times. Gone, burnt to a crisp.

"How much is a night stay here in town?" You spoke up, interrupting Spike and Jet’s bickering.

"You don't even want to know. The further you go into the city, the worse the rates are. I looked at a couple of places, and it does not look good." Jet replied, taking a sip from his mug.

"And staying on the streets isn't too good either," Spike muttered.

"Wasn't planning on it, but thanks for the advice." You snapped back.

The tension was thick in the air between you and Spike. Maybe it was because of your interrupted intimacy from the previous night, or the fact that neither of you had slept for the past 24 hours. But you couldn't understand why he was taking his frustration out on you. You hadn’t planned for your ship to burn to ash. You didn’t want to be a burden.

"I have a suggestion. Well, more of a proposal." Jet said.

You perked up. "And what's that?" Even before Jet could say anything, you already felt guilty about it.

"You can stay with us on the Bebop until you find your feet again."

You breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do what now?!" Spike hissed softly.

"But, "Jet held up his hand to Spike, who sighed loudly, annoyed. "I have a few conditions."

It kind of pissed you off how Spike was reacting to all of this. Actually, kind of was an understatement. It really pissed you off, almost offended you on how he was acting. Just a few hours ago, he was desperate to get into your pants, and now he was throwing a hissy fit at the thought of you living on the Bebop. Isn't this a good thing, you being able to spend more time together?

"Just contribute to the Bebop. Whenever you cash in a bounty, set some aside for fuel, food, all that good jazz. Maybe cook dinner sometimes, or clean the bathroom. Other than that, don’t worry about it." Jet said.

A cloud of suspicion settled across your thoughts.

"That's it?" You asked, “Are you sure?”

Jet chuckled. “There’re other rules, but you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I have a feeling you know how to respect other people’s spaces and belongings. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

You glanced at Spike, who was leaning back, staring out the window. He met your gaze, eyes unreadable once again. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He felt like an entirely new person, one who just wanted you to piss off and leave him to his business. You tried to shrug off his sudden coldness, but it bothered you. It stung.

The walk back to the Bebop wasn't too bad, but trying to initiate a conversation with Spike was difficult. All he did was grunt in response, a few "oh yeah”s and “huh”s thrown in for good measure. You hoped it was because he was tired, and not that he was pissed off that you were going to be invading his space.

The guilt was heavy on your shoulders. You certainly weren’t a freeloader, but you couldn't help but feel like you had already overstayed your welcome. And you haven’t even stepped foot on the ship yet. You didn't want Spike to be distant from you. Even though you had just met him, you wanted him to be closer to you than anyone else. You wanted to reach out to him, hold onto him and never let him go. Instead, he was pushing you away.

You weren’t good with rejection. Rejection defined who you were today and had been a driving factor to almost everything in your life. You had managed to take ahold of those haunting feelings and build them into a hard shell to protect yourself, vowing to never show your vulnerability or true feelings. You had pushed the old version of you so deep down that it would never escape. You had been doing so well, but the last few days had shown you that the hard work you put into being a completely emotionless bitch was all for nothing.

Jet was going into an extensive explanation of the ship, where you could take a shower, where your room was. He explained that the Bebop was once a fishing ship from Ganymede, and how he had fixed it up to be a high-tech, fully functional ship of today (his words, not yours).

"She operates well when treated right. However, some of our crew members would say otherwise." Jet grumbled. "Speaking of, did Faye tell you-"

"I haven't seen Faye since two days ago. Her ship was still gone, the last I saw." Spike muttered, throwing his jacket over his shoulder. "Besides, why do you care?"

Jet held up his hands. "It was just a question. Jeez." Spike muttered something in response.

You suddenly remembered the bounty on Faye’s head, but it didn’t really matter right now. That was all on the back burner for now, seeing as every plan you could think of required a ship that wasn’t the one Faye was living on. And you really didn't want to make enemies of your new crew this early on. All you cared about right now was taking a shower to wash all of last night's events off you and getting some shut-eye.

You wondered whether Jet was aware of your previous intentions of collecting the big bounty on Faye. You had asked him if Faye was joining the group for dinner last night, with no context. There was no answer, but that also could mean he took in what you said and was processing what you really intended to do if Faye did show up at the dinner. Remembering your first meeting with Spike, he told you clearly he doesn't care if she got captured or not. So you have two people who are on opposite ends of the discussion. One is in charge of the Bebop and which bounties to pursue, and the other one likes to smoke and philosophize.

The obvious correct choice was clear, but you decide to choose the latter.

"When you come in, don't be too surprised by some of our unique characters." Jet remarked. "You've already met us two, but there are a few more along the way."

"I like to think I'm also a unique character, so we should get along." You replied happily, a tint of exhaustion underlying in your words. Spike scoffed, walking over to open the small hatch.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You snapped, a full night's worth of frustration threatening to overflow in the form of obscenities and insults.

"Are you talking to me?" Spike said over his shoulder, punching in the security numbers on the small pad. The hatch to the side of the Bebop creaked open, landing on the stone pier with a hard thunk. "I’m tired. And when I’m tired, I don’t put my energy into pulling punches and being nice.Got it, (Y/N)?"

You bit down on your tongue. "Never mind. What were you saying, Jet?"

You could hear a quiet, "Yeah that's what I thought." echoing up into the Bebop. Rolling it off your shoulders, you turned your focus to Jet as you both walked into the ship.

Opening a round metal door, you looked up to see a dimming bulb illuminating the cylinder passage. The walls were yellowing, patched with dark, aging metal, and littered with hazard signs. Jet walked over to a ladder bolted on the wall and began to climb.

"I'll tell you, you’ll get a real workout just getting around this ship." Jet laughed, his voice bouncing off the walls.

"Are there a lot of these around the ship?" You said, following.

"Oh yeah, plenty. But if you stay in the living area, you don’t really need to worry about them. I'll show you around anyway, just in case we need you to get something. We wouldn’t want you to get lost." Jet smiled.

He hopped into the center gravity passage, holding out his hand to you. You grabbed it gratefully, not realizing how much of a drop it was to the floor of the tube until you looked back down.

"Oh damn." You exclaimed, looking down. "That's pretty far."

"It’s just 15 feet. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you." Jet chuckled, closing the metal door. "Alright, so this is the lower gravity passage. It leads to the living area, that includes bedrooms, kitchen and living room, and to the storage area."

Spike was nowhere to be seen in the passage. You assumed he was already in the living room, smoking before heading off to bed. Jet opened a sliding metal door marked “Storage”. You peered into the dark room.

"This is where we keep extra ammunition, supplies, and medical boxes.”

Jet pressed a button next to the storage door, one that opened to the living area. The walls were a gradient blue color, illuminated with warm lighting. The staircase was a dark, metallic gold leading to a dark blue platform. On the floor was a yellow couch, and across from it was a single matching seat. In between them sat a knee-level coffee table with a holoTV, a computer, and someone's breakfast. Jet walked in first, stepping down. "This is the living room.” He pointed to the set on top of the table. “You’re welcome to use the holoTV and the computer, everybody shares them.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure whose breakfast that is, but don’t touch it. People are pretty possessive of food on this ship.”

Right as you took a step in, you heard the light pattering of paws bouncing into the living room. From a staircase leading down, two small light brown ears popped up. Then two big brown eyes peered over, searching for the source of commotion in the room.

"You guys have a dog?!" You asked, practically jumping down the stairs. The small Welsh corgi was seemingly just as excited as you were, running and tripping up the stairs to meet you. You extended your hand, letting him sniff you.

Jet chuckled. "Cute little thing, isn't he? His name is Ein."

"Oh, he's adorable. Who’s a good boy?" You cooed, bending down to rub Ein's ears. He stretched his head out, his little stumpy tail going a hundred miles a minute.

"And usually tagging along with Ein is-" Jet was interrupted by the pounding footsteps coming from downstairs.

"They're back, they're back, they're back!" a scrawny red-headed kid rejoiced, waving their arms about. "Ed was worried, but now Jet’s back, and Ed is okay again!"

The kid's smile stretched from ear to ear, clearly more than ecstatic to see Jet back home. They grabbed the plate from on top of the table and plopped down next to a box with a computer on top. They gobbled up what was left of their food, before bending their head back to get a look at you. "Who are you?"

"This is (Y/N), they're going to be staying on the Bebop for a little bit." Jet replied, walking over to the table. He turned back to you. "Ed is a computer genius and a damn good hacker. You ever need someone to work out some malicious malware, Ed’s your girl."

“Hi, it's nice to meet you." You said, giving Ed a small smile and a wave. She scampered over to you on all fours with her behind high in the air, chattering to herself.

“Stranger, changer, danger! Hihi...”

You laughed nervously, glancing back at Jet, who was standing with his arms crossed, looking amused. The girl stopped at your feet. “Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the Fourth,” she said matter of factly. Ed grabbed your hand and sniffed. You had met some oddballs in your time, but this one took the cake. She made a face and jumped back, her hands covering her nose and mouth. "Ed thinks you stink!"

You sucked in air between your teeth. Did you really smell that bad, or was it another talent of this child prodigy? That’s so embarrassing. "Is it that noticeable?"

Jet half-smiled. "Doesn't bother me none. Thought I wouldn’t mention it till you could do somethin about it."

He was just going to let you find out later? No wonder Spike didn't want to be anywhere near you. It wasn’t even your first day of being on the Bebop, and you were not making a great first impression.

"Let me show you the kitchen." Jet motioned for you to follow up a small set of stairs through a large circular door frame leading down a small hallway. You turned into the kitchen, completed with a fridge, stove, oven, and a small countertop. The kitchen was dark, the only light in the room was the dimming orange ashes of Spike's cigarette falling on the floor. He was leaning against the countertop, staring down at his cig.

"There you are, Spike." Jet flipped the lights on, revealing a slightly disorderly kitchen. Spike winced, covering his eyes.

"Jesus, Jet give me a warning next time," Spike mumbled, his voice deep and raspy. Your annoyance and anger at him suddenly disappeared. That voice. You wanted to hear that voice again. You wanted to put your hand on his chest and feel the vibrations of that voice. Every time you tried to find some way to be mad at him again, he just had to stand there, looking cool and intoxicatingly seductive. You craved him like an alcoholic craved whiskey.

"Are you finished with the grand tour?" Spike asked, his heavy-lidded eyes looking away from you and Jet.

"Not yet, but I was hoping you could finish it."

"I’m not in the mood for hospitality right now. I'm going to bed." Spike said, making his way to the door.

"Just show her on the way there. And be nice, she's our guest." Jet warned, sorting the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink.

"Yeah, show me some respect." You teased. But Spike clearly was not in the mood. Instead, he turned away from you, rolling his eyes, and walked out of the kitchen

Jet patted you on the back. "Give him a minute, he'll come around."

"Thank you for everything, Jet. It means a lot." You smiled.

"Don't sweat it, kid. Go ahead and get some rest. If anything comes up, I'll send the cavalry after you." He said, gesturing to the living room.

You took a deep breath before heading out of the kitchen. Ed was sitting motionless in a trance-like state, her eyes engulfed with giant goggles. Ein lay peacefully on the couch, watching as you followed Spike down the steps into the living room.

This was the first time you and Spike had been alone since last night. Just hours ago, you were definitely not afraid to touch him. Now, you didn't even want to take a step near him.

"Are you coming or what?" Spike called out impatiently, already halfway downstairs to the lower part of the living area. "I don't have all day."

"I'm here." You raced over, gliding your hand down the rail. Spike continued his way down, turning around a corner. The walk down the hallway was quiet, the silence uncomfortable. Neither of you wanted to do small talk. Spike probably didn’t want to talk at all, but you had to know. You had to ask him.

"Spike?” you asked quietly. You wrung your fingers around each other anxiously. Spike stayed silent, his quick pace faltering before coming to a stop in front of a door.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” You finally asked. Spike seemed to tense up, his jaw clenching. Deciding to press on further, you continued.

“I umm,” you mumbled, “I may have been drunk and you probably were too, but why are you so cold to me now when we were literally about f-“

“This is the bathroom. It has a tub and a shower.” Spike interrupted. Your heart dropped to your stomach. So much for answers. “There should be some clean towels. You can wash your clothes upstairs, Jet can show you where the washer is. Your room’s gonna be the first door you see when you reach the top of the stairs. It’ll be all yours till you leave.”

Spike puffed out a cloud of smoke before making his way slowly down the hallway. You looked at him in disbelief. He definitely remembers. And he’s rejecting it. You and him. Cutting it off before it starts, pushing you away.

You stepped into the bathroom, letting the door shut behind you before tears of anger and resentment started to fall down your face. How can you feel so much emotion for someone who shows none? You lost your home and belongings. You didn’t want to lose anything else.

After a long hot shower, you stood in front of the mirror, combing your fingers through your hair. You were going to have to get essentials eventually, a comb and a toothbrush would be nice. But that would have to wait. You rubbed circles on your temple, your impending exhaustion headache approaching fast.

After drying yourself off, you slipped your old clothes back on. It felt awful putting dirty clothes on your clean body, but you were not about to walk around the ship in a towel. You had already dug yourself a deep enough hole with Spike, you didn’t want to traumatize Jet, the kid, or the dog.

As you wrapped your hair in a towel, you heard shouting from outside. You combed through who it could be. Spike and Jet. Or Jet and Ed. Or Spike and Ein, or Ein and Ed. There were quite a few combinations.

“First fight on the Bebop.” You muttered to yourself. “So excited.”

This was so ridiculous, you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. All you had to do was walk past and not get involved. Unless it was about you, then you would at least try to defend yourself. You opened the door, listening intently.

“What the fuck-“ more shouting. “And you bastards decide to tell me now?!” A shrill female voice was yelling. A table got knocked over. You could hear stomping and more shouting. “Well, where the hell are they?!”

Whoop, time to hide.

You shut the door and the latch clicked with a loud cathunk. You hoped they hadn’t heard it. You were down a big hallway, there was no way that they could’ve heard it. You had a pretty good idea of who the screaming was coming from, and you were not ready to meet her right now.

The sounds of stomping grew louder, getting closer to the bathroom door. Your fight-or-flight mode started to set in. With how pissed she sounded, stomping and roaring, this may as well be a life-or-death situation.

You rolled your neck, stretching your arms out. If you needed to defend yourself, you were going to have to do it bare-knuckled. No guns, knives, bars of soap, nothing. You flexed your hands, cracking your knuckles. You planted yourself in front of the door. The footsteps outside stopped. This was it! You were ready for anything.

Bam!

The door slid open. Faye Valentine stood on the other side, hands on her hips. She was panting from her ranting and raving in the other room. She smiled, her eyes a little too wide. You couldn’t tell if she was happy, crazy, or surprised.

“Hi there, you must be our newest crew member! My name is Faye, it’s so nice to meet you, girly!” She beamed, her eyes manic.

Not the response you were expecting. “It’s nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” You held out your hand. She took it, her soft palms gripping your hand a little bit too tight. She shook your hand. She kept shaking. And shaking. You pulled back, trying your best to put on a friendly face.

“Sorry if I’m hogging the bathroom, there was an accident last night and I was so dirty, I just had to have a shower.” You smiled, stepping to the side.

“Oh no! You’re totally fine. I was just looking for the toilet, I guess I got lost.” She replied, waving her hand.

“The toilet’s just across the hall from your room, how long have you been here-“ Jet was cut off by Faye’s elbow jabbing him in the ribs. Jet grabbed his side in pain, giving you a half-smile.

“Well, I’d love to chat, but I’m really tired. I’m going to go get some sleep.” You smiled apologetically and gestured to the stairs.

Jet and Faye’s voices mingled with each other, overlapping into a confusing symphony of hospitality and kindness.

“Yeah, no worries!”

“Call us if you need anything!”

“We’ll be right here!”

Smiling, you gave a small wave, turned around, and basically sprinted down the hallway to the living room. You heard Faye hiss, “You didn’t tell me she was a girl, dumbass.”

“I was going to before you blew up at me. If you had let me finish, I would’ve. Why are you so pissed off about another crew member, anyway?”

“I’m tired of all the men on this ship, I didn’t want another one. And I thought they were going to take my room...”

Their bickering trailed off as you climbed up the two sets of stairs to your new room. Ed was still on the floor with her goggles on, humming to herself, seemingly oblivious to the fight that had just happened. Ein cautiously sniffed the overturned table, before settling onto the floor next to Ed, resting his head on her lap. You would’ve said goodnight, but they seemed to be in their own little world and you were happy to let them stay like that.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you saw two doors directly across from each other, one on each side of the landing. Spike had said it was “the first door you’d see”, but that wasn’t particularly helpful in this situation. Hoping you were correct, you quietly walked over to the door to your left, pressing the button to open it.

Your breath hitched as the door opened to see Spike fast asleep in his bed. He snored lightly, sleeping so deeply he didn’t hear the hiss and clink of the door opening. His arms were behind his head and the steady rise and fall of his bare chest was hypnotic. Even asleep he was really, really attractive. You fumbled over yourself trying to shut the door. It finally latched, and you let out a breath.

Sighing, you turned towards the door behind you. This one had to be it. You opened it to see a small, sparse room. Closing the door behind you, you flipped on the light. Pushed up against the far wall was a simple bed, and to your right was a small desk built into the wall with an old armchair next to it. There was a closet in the far corner, but the door was locked and some large boxes were stacked in front of it. They must not get many guests, it seemed like this room was mainly used for storage.

Feeling the ache of exhaustion overtaking your body, you flopped onto the bed. It was surprisingly soft, with a pillow and tan comforter neatly folded on top. You didn’t know how to thank Jet for being so kind and accommodating. Next time you cashed in a big bounty, you were going to set aside some woolongs to buy him a thank you gift.

On top of the pillow, you noticed a pair of black shorts and a yellow button-up. Pinned to the shirt was a note, clearly written in a hurry.

Some clean clothes. You smell like shit.

-S

You laughed. He’s straight-talking, that’s for sure. You slipped on the shorts and buttoned the shirt halfway up. Spreading out the comforter, you crawled underneath. You were already half-asleep, and thinking about how breathtakingly attractive Spike looked asleep relaxed you even more. Your mental snapshot of your accidental encounter was glued to your eyelids. It was never going to happen again, but you got to have one taste of beauty while here.

You gently wrapped your arms around your pillow, thoughts of Spike disappearing into clouds of empty dreams. It was so much better to fall asleep to thinking of someone, rather than no one at all.

And even though it was going to hurt, you would do it again and again.

[A/N] all I got to say is fasten your seatbelts for the next chapter, slut puppies.

#faye valentine #cowboy bebop #90s anime #jet black #radical edward #adult swim #toonami #ein #fanfiction #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel #see ya space cowboy

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