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petri808 · 4 years

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Do You Believe Me Now?

The original post & Reblogs. Since I added more to the original post including smut and it’s at 4k words, I cleaned it up and posted the story to AO3. @bmarvels enjoy lol.

Hakyona, modern AU setting. NSFW

“Psst, Yona?”

I sit up, shielding my eyes to the sunlight. “What is it Lili?”

“You’re missing out on all the hot studs walking around, that’s what!”

“Lili, I told you I came to the beach to relax before finals, not gawk.”

I lie back down on my towel and close my eyes again. It didn’t matter to me what kind of eye candy I was missing out on. Books, studying are all I have time to focus on and besides, there already was one person who’d stolen my heart. Too bad he didn’t seem to notice it. Or at least I wasn’t sure. It was so damn hard to tell with him! He was such a sarcastic ass that I couldn’t tell if he was flirting or just being a punk to me. A groan fires off in my head, and yet through all that, I still fell in love.

But I couldn’t help it! I swear! We’ve known each other since we were kids and once I’d realized I cared more for him then as a friend, I fear that’s all he sees me as. Like a little sister. He is two years older than me after all, and both his guardian and my parents told him to always protect me. Pfft. A frown shadows my expression. Well I’m not that little girl anymore!

“Yona get up, get up, get up!”

“Lili, for the last time...”

“Isn’t that Hak over there?”

Quickly, I sit up and look over to where she’s pointing. My heart skips or more like takes a dive. Heaven help me that is Hak! He stood out in the throng of beach goers not just in height but presence.

“I think he’s gotten even cuter,” she snickers. “Damn, all his friends are hot too! Why didn’t you tell me he’s got such cute friends?!”

“I-I never noticed.”

“Are you blind? Oh, wait, I get it.” She pokes my side, “just blind to him, right?”

“Ugh!” I cover my face as I feel it heating up. “Lili stop trying to embarrass me, please?!”

“Oh look, he’s heading this way. Hey Hak?!”

I grab her waving hands. “Lili!!”

“Oh hey,” Hak waves back.

I see him grin and his group starts walking in our direction. Can I die, like right now? It was hard enough seeing him normally, but since he’s at the beach, his attire consists of board shorts and no shirt. I don’t know how he keeps his body in such condition, but I swear it’s like it was sculpted by a master artist.

He runs a hand through his wet hair as he chats with the other males, laughing, and smiling. His blue eyes twinkling against the sunlight. I squeeze my thighs together at the sight. All the girls they pass by ogle him, and I don’t blame them. The man was just too handsome for his own good. Before he reaches us, the group shake hands or fist bumps and the rest take off towards the snack stand.

“Hey Lili, Yona,” he grins, “didn’t know you two would be here today.”

“Well, neither did we, unless Yona was hiding that information from me.”

“I was not! I just came to relax.”

“So, relax,” he teases. “What’s stopping you?”

A six-foot hottie, I mumble in my head. “Shouldn’t you go hang out with your friends?”

“Nah.” He stands his surfboard up and sits down right beside me. “We’re finished surfing and was about to leave, but I’d rather hang out with a pretty girl.”

I feel the blush blooming on my face, but I try not to react. Not exactly easy with Lili grinning like a crazy person egging me on. I narrow my eyes at her. If they could shoot daggers, they would.

“You should stop teasing me like that,” I cross my arms, “it’s not funny.”

“But I’m not teasing you, I’m serious.”

Right... “Hak, you always say stuff like that, but I know you just see me as a friend. It’s getting old.”

“Or maybe it’s you who doesn’t want to believe it.” He forces my face to look at him. “What am I supposed to do make you believe me?”

My throat seizes up into a sputter. “I-I don’t know!”

He rolls his eyes. “Lili what do you think I should do to prove it?”

“I think you should just kiss her,” the girl smirks.

“Now that’s a good idea!”

“Don’t you dare Hak!”

“Oh, but I dare.”

He grabs me before I can scramble away. I squeal, but he quickly cuts off my defenses and plants his lips against mine. My eyes widen. Oh my god he did it! He actually kissed me?!

In a blink it was over and as my brain comes back into focus, all I see is a cocky grin and a softened smile. “Do you believe me now?”

Oof! I cross my arms and turn my head away in a huff. “No, I don’t. You’re just putting on a show for Lili and once we leave, it’ll go right back to you treating me like a little sister again, picking on me and teasing me.”

He gasps, feigning indignation, then turns to Lili. “Will you excuse us? I think I need to make this stick.”

“Wait? What?!”

“No, not at all,” the girl snickers. She quickly shoves my belongings into my bag and into my lap. “Here’s your things Yona.”

“Come on,” he drags me to my feet, “my red-haired little princess. We need some privacy.”

“Whoa, Wait!” I tug at his hold. Damn it he’s too strong for me. “Where are you taking me?!”

Hak holds his surfboard under one arm and keeps his other hand gripped to mine. “You don’t believe me, so I need to prove it, right? Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder cause you know I will.”

“Ugh! Hak you’re so cruel to me!” I whine but give in to avoid any more embarrassment. “At least tell me where we’re going.”

“My place so I can shower and,” he grins down in a side-eye, “so we can have a private conversation.”

I gulp hard. Alone with Hak?!

The entire ride in his car, I sit there in the passenger seat running scenarios in my head. How was he going to prove anything to me? I’ve got years of dealing with his sarcasm under my belt, so it’ll take some effort to convince me I’m not just a friend. Though friends don’t normally go around kissing each other unless there’s more to it... Oh please, I scoff in my head. This is Hak, and to prove a point he just might. I’ve convinced myself of that notion.

“Tell me Yona, have you ever seen me with a girlfriend? Don’t answer, just think about it.”

“Because...”

He covers my mouth. “Just think about it until we get to my place.”

When he releases me, I stare out the window fuming. I know that answer! It’s because he’s always just focused on his martial arts and sports. When does he have time for one? I mean there’s nothing wrong with that, but don’t use it as an excuse to trick me. Ugh! And if he really wanted a girlfriend, nothing was stopping him from making a move.

He leaves the surfboard in the foyer and prompts me into the studio apartment. “Are you thirsty? There’s drinks in the fridge, help yourself.” I shake my head no. “Then come on, let’s take a shower.”

My jaw drops and cheeks flush the color of my hair. “S-Shower? With you?!”

“Why not? Gramps used to bathe us together when we were younger.”

“We’re not little kids anymore Hak,” I sputter out, “it’s inappropriate for us to do that now.”

He walks up and kisses the back of my hand. “Not, if I’m trying to seduce you.”

I roll my eyes. “You can drop the rouse now that we’re alone.”

He sighs and runs a hand down his face. “Yona, it’s not a rouse. I’ve always loved you. That’s why I’ve never had a girlfriend.” He turns to his bathroom with his head hung down. “You know what? I give up. Stay till I get out and I’ll take you home or you’re free to leave. It’s up to you.” He pauses his walk. “And for the record, I wouldn’t take advantage of you. I just wanted to see your reaction... guess I got it, huh?”

I watch the door close behind him and drop onto the edge of his bed. My mind is spinning, confused, this was the first time I truly felt like... I believed every word he said. The water turns on in the room, and the sounds of the shower curtain closing was like a nail being hammered into my coffin. Oh god, what have I done? No, no, no! I shake my cradled head. I hadn’t meant to push him away! But that’s exactly what I’ve done. The poor guy looked completely dejected now and here I am sitting on his bed alone.

The tears gather in my eyes and I no longer hold them back from falling free. This man really loves me? “Oh, Hak...” I’m such a fool. I curl up on his bed uncaring of being found this way as the tears stain the bedding. He deserves someone who trusts him, not questions what he does. I should know this man better by now. Hak would never do anything to truly hurt me, and yet here I just broke his heart.

Maybe I should just leave and take my shame with me. But I can’t bring myself to move nor get off his bed. So, I curl in tighter, clinging to the blanket, and covering my head with my arm. I want nothing more than to be with him...

The bathroom door opening doesn’t stir me. I don’t want to show my face. I want to hide, yet I’m too scared to lose him.

“Yona? Yona, why are you crying?!”

The concern in his voice make me sob harder. I feel the bed shift as he’s no doubt taken a place beside me. It makes me feel even worse to know I’d hurt him and yet he still cares too much to see me in pain. I don’t fight back as he gathers me into his lap. His warm body felt wonderful against my barely clothed skin, and his arms, so strong... I always feel safe within their confines.

“Please don’t cry Yona, you know I can’t take it when you cry.” He strokes along my back, soothing and gentle, with his voice soft near my ear. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, princess you know that’s the last thing I ever wanna do.”

“I‘m sorry,” I whimper through the tears. “But you really do love me, don’t you? Why’d I never realize this? I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you were right. I shouldn’t have teased you and just told you long ago,” he tips my chin up and softens his gaze, “how much you really mean to me.”

I reach up and cradle his cheek as he gently wipes away my drying tears. We gaze into each other’s eyes while time passes unnoticed. I have no idea for how long, but all I can think is how beautiful his eyes are... windows to the soul, and his is bared naked for me to see. I pull his head down and place a second kiss upon his lips. “And Hak, I’ve always loved you too. How could I not, even when you drive me crazy... in the end you’re the only one that’s ever made me feel happy.”

“It’s my body, right? You just love me because of my body.”

I smack his chest hard, “do you always have to ruin the moment and make a joke!”

As I move to hit him a second time, he grabs my wrist, laughing at my weak attempt. “I’m sorry, it’s just too easy to tease you. I’ll stop for now.” He kisses my fingers before releasing them. “I should get dressed.”

It was in that moment that I realize Hak only had a towel on leaving very little between us. My eyes widen, “o-oh!” One wrong move and the fabric would easily unravel.

“Are you gonna get off my lap?”

I take a deep breath, ready to make a move of my own. My eyes blink slowly, rising to meet his in a coy but stern flutter. “No.”

He chuckles, “no? Come on princess, let me get dressed.”

“Maybe... I’d rather you be undressed.”

Hak’s eyes shrink to pinpoints, with his mouth slightly agape in shock that I would say such a bravely seductive suggestion. I giggle, oh how quickly this bad boy crumbles. My hands weave around his neck, fingers ghosting along the skin.

This man has haunted my dreams and my loins for far too long, and now that I know he loves me, I’m not going to waste the opportunity. I shift my position to straddle his thighs comfortably, and lift my body pulling him to me, kissing, caressing, showing him, this was no fairy tale.

“Yona, wh-what are you doing?!”

“Showing you, I believe. Now shh...” placing a finger on his lips, “no talk, just drive.” I move his frozen hands from my waist to my ass where it’s bare warmth seems to revive them, for they squeeze gently and provide support. “Mmm,” I murmur against his lips; this was better than any dream.

“You’ll be the death of me my princess,” his lips press forward against mine. “But one I’ll gladly face.”

“Don’t worry Hak, we’ll slay the dragon together.”

He growls low, “careful. Do you have any idea how much I’ve pent up over the years?”

I narrow my gaze, “yes, I do.” Then unroll the portion of towel keeping it from unraveling in retort. “Now stop treating me like a kid.”

His blue eyes flashing wild are the last thing I register before finding myself flipped onto my back. I gasp, pinned below him, so small compared to his larger frame. He reaches behind my back and pulls the strings securing my bikini top free. I move to cover my chest on instinct, blushing fiercely from his lustful gaze.

“Now coy?” He teases lightly. So, I drop my hands slowly to the sides, baring myself to him. But I can’t bring myself to look him in the eyes just yet. “You know we can stop at any time, right? I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I know... this is just new and a little scary.”

“Then allow me to make those fears melt away princess.”

I nod my head, “yes, please don’t stop Hak. I do want this too.”

My top is tossed to the side as he lowers himself further, kissing at the nape of my neck. His lips burn trails along my skin in a ring of fire, suckling, in pressured kisses. I want to tell him no hickeys please, but the words die away in my throat when I feel his hands begin to massage my breasts.

The temperature of the room rises along with my moans muffled to the roar in my eardrums. I hear little, but the rest of my senses are on overdrive. Every touch like electrical charges and the smell of sex quickly enveloping my nose. I can still taste a bit of sea salt from his lips.

“I still can’t believe it’s not a dream,” he mumbles against the swell of my breasts. Me neither, I purr back.

I gasp loudly and my body reacts when his mouth covets a nipple, arching and pressing into his oral kisses. He sucks and pulses against the sensitive button, teasing with both tongue and teeth in a twin assault, playing with one breast then switching to the other. His hands mold and caress, guiding my body where he wants it to go, while mine react based on his movements. They run through his hair or trail his back and neck. My fingers squeezing, nails digging into his flesh when he hits a sensitive area.

As he moves lower down my stomach, my breathing hitches. He’d left my breasts swollen and tender and now there’s a sinister glint in his eyes. He watches me watching him as he places the softest kisses in a trail.

Down he goes, yanking my bottoms off as his body slides off the end of bed. I squeak loudly as he yanks me to the edge of the bed but before I can grasp what he’s doing my legs are over his shoulders and his mouth clamps down on my sex. A gasping moan cuts through the air and my body freaks out with a jolt. “Hak!”

His hands grip my pelvis, keeping them in his clutches. I see the wide grin on his face as his tongue sweeps slow and steady from bottom to top parting my folds. When it comes center with my clit, he sucks hard and I see stars. My hands flail, grabbing and holding tight to the bedding around me. I bite my lip to stifle my moans but it’s a fruitless effort when he’s eating me out like a lollipop.

How is he so good at this?! Every pass of his tongue, swirling, sucking on my bud sends delicious shivers rolling through my body. I can’t think, I can’t see, my mind is consumed by his ministrations like a puppet on a string.

“Look at me Yona.” His deep voice commands and I do as if under a spell to follow his beck and call. My eyes gaze back, moist and glistened, half-lidded in the throes of lust. “Time for the next level,” he smirks.

Next level? What d... “Ha—kaaaa!” I cry out as his finger slips into my entrance. My thighs clench against his head, squeezing it like a cantaloupe. But he doesn’t stop there, sliding it in and out a couple times, then adding a second. His hand moves and holds me down by my stomach as my body begins to writhe.

His tongue continues to suck on my clit, but his fingers add to the heat roiling in my core like a rubber band being stretched to its breaking point. I’ve given myself little orgasms before but nothing like the explosion evident on the horizon. I can feel the friction they’re creating against my entrance. How the palm of his hand bumps when he pushes them as deep as they’ll reach.

His fingers scissor and curl in a come-hither motion pressing along the inside walls. I jolt and squeak when they hit upon a spot. I hear him chuckle. What the hell is he—oh, oh!!! “Hak—u!” The fiery friction his fingers create coupled with the sucking on my clit are too much, snapping the final coil. His garbled name sputters out in waves like the orgasm rocking my body, but he holds me down easily, relentlessly to make sure my orgasm has me seeing white.

It feels so good it hurts! “S-St-Stop—“ I push on his head as tears of joy cloud my vision. The area was on fire, sensitive to even the slightest touch.

Hak sits up on his knees licking off the clear juices coating his fingers with the biggest grin of accomplishment I’ve ever seen him sporting. “You’re so beautiful all flushed and out of breath.” His smile makes be blush again.

He crawls back on, helping me to scoot over to the center of the bed. I swallow hard when I see the size of his erection. Being a tiny girl with a big guy... you do the math. ‘Don’t freak yourself out now Yona,’ I calm my racing mind. Already my imagination is running wild at how it will finally feel to go all the way with Hak.

Seeing a worried tremble in my lip, Hak cradles me close against his body. He tips my chin, running his thumb against my cheek. “It’s up to you Yona if you want to continue. It was my pleasure simply satisfying you.”

“I’ve wanted this w-with you, to have you be the first Hak. I-I wanna make you feel good too. Please, let me?”

“Okay, whatever makes you happy.” He sits up with his legs bent at the knee and rotated to the sides. Then he pat his thighs. “I’ve heard this position is easier for the first time,” he explains, “you get to control things, especially in the beginning and stuff.”

I nod my head nervously. Hak doesn’t need to elaborate for I understand exactly what he’s talking about. Girls talk, and sometimes there’s pain if it’s too fast or rough. The fact Hak cared enough to know that relaxes me a little and makes me feel relieved.

He rolls on the condom I grab from his nightstand. “Just go-slow princess. There’s no need to rush. And you tell me if there’s something you want me to do.”

“Okay,” releases out in a long exhale. I position myself, saddling his lap and raised, poised over him. He holds his dick steady for me as I lower myself. A shiver ripples through my frame when it barely makes contact; my sex still swollen and tender to touch.

I nibble my lip and close my eyes, pushing myself onto him, gasping when the head pushes through. The instant heat also takes me by surprise. Guess all that blood flow served a second purpose. But it wasn’t just me who’d gasped. I look up and see Hak’s head tilted back slightly and his eyes closed. Even his fingers are curled against my hips. I press on, slowly sinking lower until it’s all the way inside. This wasn’t so bad after all. No, it felt freaking amazing! I bring his face back to focus and kiss his lips. “Are you okay Hak? You look shocked.”

He groans and presses deeper into the kiss. “If I’d known sex felt this good, I would’ve seduced you sooner.”

“This is your first time?!”

“Of course, it is!”

“But you seemed so skilled...” I blush, “you know earlier, I just assumed.”

“Jaeha’s been schooling me,” he blushes too. “I wanted to be ready if this ever happened. But don’t tell him I told you that!”

I giggle, “my lips are sealed, but...” I look down shyly, “I don’t know what to do next.”

“Oh!” He chuckles and starts directing my hips with his hands, “rock from you waist, use your thighs to help you. Just go by how it feels, and I’ll help you too.”

So that’s what I do. “Like this?” My hips start rocking forward and back. His hands drop down and cradle my ass and I feel them squeezing as he groans yes’s and his eyes roll back. It feels so good I join his moans. Wow it’s hard to focus at the same time!

His forehead falls onto my shoulder and his breathing grows haggard as I press longer, harder into my strides. I almost giggle out loud when my brain equates this to riding a stallion. Yup a stallion named Hak.

My breathing shortens as I pace myself. The heat building up in my core is aching again. This grind is causing a delectable friction that if I don’t slow down, I’ll lose myself too quickly.

“Fuck, Yona you feel so good,” he moans and kisses at the nape of my neck. “It’s settled, I’m marrying you and I won’t take no for an answer.”

I pull his face back up, “I accept,” kissing him on the lips. But as I hold the kiss, I lift my frame, sliding up his shaft and stopping when I feel the head pressured at the entrance. A muffled groan is trapped in his throat, redoubled when I slide down again. Oh, I like how this feels!

Over and over I do it, allowing the length to rub against the pressured walls, before pushing back down again. “Fuck,” he moans. “Yona, don’t stop, don’t... stop...”

As amazing as it feels my legs are growing tired. “I’m sorry,” I whimper, “ I can’t keep this up Hak.”

He lifts me up and rolls us over until I’m on my back and he’s nestled between my thighs. Then he maneuvers my legs over his hips, and I comply by hooking my ankles into his thighs. Hak starts pumping; I gasp and arch my back pressing my chest to his. Wow it’s deeper!

His head is rested on the bed next to mine as he uses his elbows to keep his weight off me. But his hands are glued to my pelvis and applying a downward force on them and his hips press upward.

“Hak,” I whine. He’s gonna make me cum a second time! His thrusts outpace my ability to keep up and I give in to the heat waves of my orgasm.

“Fuck,” he groans too as his breathing falters and voice grows strained.

Hak pumps his hips a few more times and I can feel a pulsing sensation inside coming from his dick that I assume is from an orgasm. Finally, after one last thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside me and collapses in a panting mess.

After several minutes, he bundles me in his arms and rolls us to a side position while our breathing calms down. He kisses my forehead. “I love you so much Yona. That was more than I could have ever dreamed of.”

“Mmhmm,” I agree and nestle close to his warm chest. “I love you too Hak.”

“I meant what I said earlier, you know. I’m gonna marry you Yona.”

I lift my head and pull his lips against mine. “I believe you.”

#hakyona #akayona #Akatsuki no yona #hakyona fan fic #hakyona fanfiction #hak son #yona #son hak #hak #hakyona AU #hakyona smut #hakyona fan fiction #modern setting

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missinghan · 5 years

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dawn ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : runaway! au; demon!au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 10k.

❖ warning : explicit language, mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : it seems like everyone has their own guardian angel, everyone but you because you’ve given up on Jesus the moment you come down to Lee Minho’s level and shake hands with the Devil.

one.

Your dad is definitely not gonna approve of you hanging by the bar alone after midnight.

It all happened too fast, and you don’t even know where you’re going next. After a call from your manager, which you almost fell asleep as he rambled about boring paperwork, until he dropped the bomb. He said he was sorry for what he’s gonna say next and turned out the label wanted to cut you loose. The entire universe was completely shattered right in front of your eyes. You were utterly speechless when the line went dead so long story short, you packed your bag and ran away.

Like a coward.

You stare blankly at the half-empty glass of Martini in your hand before chuckling lowly. Because life is a little son of a bitch, who’s born with the power to pull on everyone’s strings as if people are a bunch of puppets for whatever gods up there to entertain themselves. Getting signed into a music production company right after your graduation swept your life over with joy. Your parents were… overwhelmed to say the least but they still wanted you to move to Seoul. Two years later, your life once again was flipped upside down because of a single phone call. They didn’t even bother to call you in and meet face-to-face.

“Cheers to this motherfucker.” You almost laugh at your own miserable state but suppress it and down the whole glass in one go. “Another one.” You tell the barista absently and he just sighs before starting to mix your drink.

“Tough times ?” He leans over the counter and slides your drink across the wooden surface.

You gratefully take the glass, words slurred between hiccups. “You have no fucking idea.” Your eyes travel down from his defined features gleaming under the neon light to the name tag hanging off his white dress shirt. It reads ‘Kim Woojin’. You shake your head to lure the weariness away while your right hand reaching inside your pocket to pull out some cash.

But before you can place them on the table, Woojin stops you abruptly. “Keep a hold of them. This last one’s on me.” He sighs defeatedly. Judging by how you look right now, he must have thought that you’re some petty college girl who just got into a fight with her boyfriend and now you have nowhere to stay for the night so essentially, he wants to be certain that you’ll have enough money for a cheapass motel of some sort.

Woojin pats his wet hands onto the black apron wrapped around his hip. “You’ll need them more than I do.” And you feel kinda bad for him, partially because this place doesn’t serve cheap vodka like most bars, and partially because you’re now a somewhat burden to the bartender. “Listen, no matter how much bad shit happens, I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Besides, looks like that punk over there has already had his eyes on you the whole time.” He winks at you playfully before walking over to his coworker at the other side of the counter.

Speaking of the Devil… literally, not even sarcastically, a hollow presence seems to come into sight the moment you place your lips on the rim of the glass. You automatically reach your hand backwards only to find exactly what you’re looking for. “Do not touch me.” You deadpan, normally you would have felt bad by now upon your sudden discourtesy but unfortunately you’re not in the mood to be kind today. Hearing his melodic chuckle, you yank his hand away rather harshly, the coldness of his touch still chills you to the bone.

“Why so sad, bunny ?” He moves over to sit down on the nearby wooden bench, lips curled into a devilish smirk. Out of 7 billion people on this glorious plant, he chooses to pester a mundane mortal like you. Out of 365 days of the year, he chooses to visit you on the worst day of your life. Lee Minho is worse than Lucifer, it’s official.

Not enjoying your dull state, he cocks a brow at you. “You’re jobless because that stupid label doesn’t need you anymore. And now what ? Are you gonna be petty and depressed about it for the rest of your life ? Because if so, you’ll have a really shitty life Y/N. Do you really want your demons to come out and conquer the path ahead like it’s their fucking playground ?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Said a demon himself.”

“Then aren’t humans the closest things that we have to demons alive ?” Minho almost snickers at your suggestive remark, but he wouldn’t admit that it did sting a bit. After all, he is a demon, an epitome of a creature that’s second to Lucifer and his descendants generation, highly worshipped and exceptionally feared. And he’s low-key impressed that you didn’t throw yourself out the window when he stepped out of a wisp of black smoke the day you two first encountered.

You on the other hand didn’t know that he was too utterly soft for you to actually erase your memories. From then on, he would visit you occasionally at the godly hour when you’re close to kicking yourself in the process of composing or when you accidentally fucked up something. ‘Til this day, you still don’t know whether his concern for you is pure sincerity or he just finds your first world problems very amusing. You can’t tell either way.

Taking another sip of your drink, you groan slightly at the slight burn in your throat from the strong alcohol. “I mean ... fair point.” Your lips pursed unknowingly. “I don’t know Minho… I think I must have done something fucking messed up to be kicked out of the game like that. I wasn’t even thinking straight, you know, just packed my stuff and drove downtown. Ugh now I feel like shit.”

The demon in front of you glares at the glass of Martini coldly. He’s not letting you finish that shit after who knows how much alcohol that Woojin has permitted you to drink. “Do you think that overcoming cowardice is easy ? If it was that easy, everyone would go outside to get some fresh air, smell some flowers, meet new people; not fucking hide behind their screens and whatnot while talking trash about others like a bunch of scaredy-cats.” Minho spats, swiftly taking your drink away before you gulp it again.

Funny enough, you’re sitting at a bar with a demon, who’s obviously so done with your shit, but also the one that you have least expectations for listening and giving you advice. Just like how that one song goes.

Well, I shook hands with the devil

Down on the south side

And he bought us both a drink

With a pad and a pencil sat by his side

I said, "Tell me what you think".

Except that Minho didn’t buy you a drink, he actually stole yours.

“I may not know much about your world, but I’m confident that you’re very talented and passionate about what you’re doing. I saw how much effort you put into your work, staying up after midnight, heck, you barely got any sleep when you’re still working for that shitty company. I saw how much you care, Y/N and I don’t give two fucks about how much you’re doubting yourself because you’re so much more than that. I know you got this, you’re as stubborn as a human being can be, you’re not gonna let a tiny cut or bruised knee hold you back, are you ?”

You shake your head slightly, starting to acknowledge his words. You don’t get why you never noticed this but for a demon, Minho gives really good advice. In spite of his cocky personality because he thinks that he has every right to sass every human being out whenever wherever he wants to, his company always makes you feel fuzzy inside. It’s almost heartwarming but that makes no sense because demons are nowhere near ‘sweet and caring’.

A strange look flashes in his eyes when his eyes meet yours but before you can properly react, it vanishes. “You’re not drinking ever again… at least not for the time being.” He tells you off with his eyes before chugging the whole glass. Woah, good shit, he admits internally. And he’s mildly surprised that you’re taking this better than he’d thought. Other young producers would have been bawling their eyes out by now, not talking to a creature from the underworld.

“Alcohol helps me sleep.” You pout slightly, feeling the need to actually pay Woojin back when you get paid again. Oh wait… but you’re practically unemployed. “Insomnia is painstakingly arbitrary, like a needle that’s constantly pricking my spine whenever I’m trying to get comfy in bed. Guess I’m not sleeping tonight, thanks a lot.” You huff and lean over on the wooden counter, cheek pressed against your left upper arm.

Although Minho thinks that you look ridiculously cute right now with tinted pink cheeks and messy hair, he’s still not gonna buy you another drink. “They do say that insomnia is just another word for chit chatting with the demons during bedtime. And you’ve already wolfed down three fucking Vodka Martinis by the time I teleported here, aren’t you concerned about the stupid hangover tomorrow morning ? I swear to Lucifer— are you even listening to me right now ?”

Minho asks in disbelief when you stay unresponsive. The demon peels his eyes away from the empty glass and turns his head only to find you already fallen asleep, like a bear in hibernation. Your eyes are closed shut, chest heaving up and down rhythmically as you drift away from the cruel reality and into dreamland. Truth be told, you tend to fall asleep whenever he’s lecturing you a lot, and that gives him an excuse to stay for a little more than he should.

two.

Hangover hits you with a bang, almost knocks you out cold. But it’s not going to let you pass out, at least not before you start regretting the amount of alcohol that you chugged last night. Your eyes are still screwed shut, refusing to flutter open as your head throbs uncontrollably. Usually you would have been awake by now since you’re dumb enough to have white curtains instead of colored ones which helps the sunlight goes right through your apartment.

But something seems off today because there’s nothing that’s bothering your eyes. And you would definitely sleep in if it wasn’t for the strange feeling beneath your skin. Wait a second… A worrisome feeling runs down your spine, causing your eyes to open. You look down and check your clothes properly, everything stays the same except for… hold on, since when did you have a silky black sheet ?

“You woke up, finally. Be grateful that you’re on time for breakfast.” Someone’s voice booms in the distance when your eyes adjust themselves on the foreign surroundings. The studio apartment in front of you has your jaw dropped to the floor. Minimal yet modern pieces of furniture, a fully equipped kitchenette and an enormous window that gives you a breathtaking view of the whole city. This isn’t your apartment, is it ?

You groan loudly before pushing yourself off the bed and shiver slightly when your feet come in contact with the cold floor. “Tylenol’s on the table, you’re welcome.” Minho says nonchalantly as he has his back against you. You drag yourself to the dining table and pop the pills into your mouth before downing the glass of water beside them.

Yeah, no, you’re not drinking ever again.

“What are you doing ?” You ask him in a raspy tone and sniff your nose continuously at the aroma that’s filling the entirety of the apartment. Minho stays silent, deciding to fully concentrate on his current task. When you suddenly approach him from behind and place your head lazily on his shoulder, he almost drops the pot of freshly made soup. His chest swells a bit whenever you get close to his body, whether it is because it’s all in his head or just you having that kind of effect on him, he dares not to know.

“Tsk, you’re in my way, shoo.” He sneers, motioning for you to move so that he can transfer the pot over to the table in peace. Minho quickly scoops the thick liquid into a smaller bowl and gives you a look. You just stare at the hearty soup in complete awe, mouth slightly watered. No one has ever cooked for you before, much less a pot full of hangover soup. And you would be lying if you said that you’re not touched right now because you feel like it’s been forever since you’ve had homemade food.

Lee Minho never changes, still ever so caring.

He sits down at the table and pushes the bowl towards you. “Eat this and write me a 1000 words essay for instant feedback later.” Without a word, you automatically take a spoonful into your mouth, almost choking because of how hot it is. “Dude, it’s not 1945 anymore. If this goes on, you’re not gonna die from anything other than choking yourself.” He purses his lips at your eagerness, dabbing the excess soup away with a napkin on the corner of your lips.

After coughing furiously, you figure that your voice can finally function normally. “I didn’t know that you can cook, god this soup is everything.” In the next ten minutes, you finish inhaling the whole bowl as if you’ve walked through the desert, searching for an oasis for a week straight.

You’ve never let anyone cook for you other than your parents because one, none of your friends can cook, Changbin almost burnt your apartment down while Jisung came up with the idea to crack eggs with a knife; and two, you still remember a creepy story you once heard on a podcast vividly. Basically, there’s this girl who allowed her date to make her a meal on their very first encounter. She was hospitalized a week later, suspecting food poisoning but the test results came out as cannibalism. Yikes.

“Demons eat souls, not human flesh you paranoid bitch.” Minho reads your thoughts in a matter of seconds before taking his wooden spoon and smack you on the head. He looks unimpressed right now, he really does because he’s so over your delusional ass from binge-watching way too many investigation related shows at three a.m. “They’re not even that tasty, I’d rather have a boring sandwich.”

You scoff at him, rubbing the spot where he hit previously. “You can’t have mine then, it’s too dark for you.”

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice.” He almost grit, lips pressed into a thin line.

You stand up from the wooden stool and carry the dishes over to the newly renovated silver sink. “This is your place ?” You ask while turning on the faucet to spray water all over the dirty bowl. “It’s really nice, not gonna lie. Just not as nice as mine.”

When you’re having your back against him, Minho looks somewhat guilty. What would Hyunjin say if he found out that his roommate brought a mundane mortal home and even made her a bowl of hangover soup ? “For the time being, it is.” Whatever, Hyunjin’s staying in Italy for a good two weeks anyway. With a little bit more effort of ridding off your human scent and reorganize some stuff, Minho can pretty much pass without being suspected. “And what do you expect ? That I’m gonna leave you at the bar where sketchy people are getting wasted ? FYI, a demon doesn’t necessarily have to own a place where it’s just full of miserable souls swimming around. I take my beauty sleep very seriously, actually, all of us do. Even Satan.”

You carefully line the dishes up on the white rack next to the sink and sighs. “Beauty sleep ? I don’t know her.” When you turn around to face Minho, his lips are slightly curled upwards. “What, Minho ?” You ask, slightly annoyed.

He props his head onto his palms and cocks his head to the side. “What will you do now ? Going home is a no-no, obviously, and I believe that your coworkers/best friends are flipping the whole city upside down looking for you so your apartment isn’t really an option anymore. What’s next Y/N ?”

You think for a bit and hum. “Technically I’m running away ...so…why not make the best out of it ?” Then, something clicks and your eyes lit up in mischief. “I have an idea. It’s genius, a fucking genius idea.”

Minho immediately shakes his head furiously, looking like he’s encountering a panic attack. “Hate it.”

“You love it, don’t even lie to yourself.”

“It’s humiliating.”

You reach your hands inside your pocket to look for your keys. “Too late.” That’s when Minho knows that he doesn’t have a say in this.

three.

“You know what’s more fun than this ?” Minho supports himself on his knees as his breaths come in short, he feels like he’s gonna throw up. Being on a rollercoaster is most definitely scarier than attending a meeting with the Underworld Authority. He still doesn’t get why humans enjoy torturing themselves as a form of pure entertainment when they can do something like educate themselves by reading more books. “Hearing Lucifer play the fiddle, the Devil plays it damn good and a fun demon to hang around. He’s a real entertainer, trust me. Just hire a lawyer beforehand if you’re signing any contract with him.”

Minho’s making it sound like you’re planning on having ‘a thing’ with Lucifer meanwhile he practically follows you everywhere, watches your every move and you think that’s close enough for an example of the infamous slavery contract.

You run a hand through your hair and exhale in satisfaction. Since middle school, you haven’t really got a chance to come to amusement parks before. You’re far too caught up with the new tempo to life these days. “Come on, it’s not that bad. It ain’t my fault when you can’t teleport us both to somewhere further.” You almost laugh at his current state; disheveled hair, beads of sweat rolling down on his forehead, and he looks as pale as a ghost like he just saw one. Not like he’s terrified of ghosts or anything, actually, he might be scared of heights.

“You can’t teleport with me for fuck’s sake, even when I want to, you’ll end up disintegrating into dusts forever because your mortal body doesn’t have enough energy to recollect itself piece by piece.” Minho grits and shakes his head slightly to adjust the messy mop of hair on his head. He looks really cute, you think. Like a cat that’s trying to clean itself but can’t quite reach the itchy spot.

Upon your stubbornness because he knows too well that you just wanna see him being drowned in misery, Minho can’t help but roll his eyes. “And can you get any dumber ? You have a fucking Range Rover and a valid license. Technically, there’s no law against driving with a demon sitting in your vehicle. Ugh, I really should have left you at the bar last night.”

Right when you’re about to snap back at him with a witty comment, your phone buzzes loudly. And your eyes are about to jump out of their sockets the moment you open up the device. There are more than thirty missed calls, from your family and friends along with countless texts filled with nothing but concern. Changbin and Jisung both work under the same label as you so you assume that your family already knew everything. Now you feel guilty for running away so spontaneously because after all, you do have people who are always willing to be there for you.

[ 3:25pm ]

jisung | dude, I’m outside, open up

jisung | we know everything already

changbin | Y/N I’m bringing food over, you’re gonna binge-watch Netflix with us whether you want to or not

[ 3:27pm ]

jisung | uhm, hello ? Y/N ?

changbin | we’re breaking in if you’re not coming out, FYI

[ 3:35pm ]

jisung | you know I have the keys right, we’re gonna go in

changbin | this isn’t fucking funny

jisung | stop being such a stubborn piece of shit

[ 3:36pm ]

jisung | Y/N where the fuck are you ?!

changbin | …. look, just go home, your family are worried sick

[ 3:45pm ]

jisung | at least call me back ?

changbin | whatever you’re planning on doing, don’t do it

[ 9:23pm ]

chan | call me, I’m not going anywhere

Sensing your racing thoughts and seeing your tense posture, Minho swiftly takes your phone away from your hand and drops it into his pocket. The last thing he wants to see is you curled up into a ball and cry alone in the bathroom. “You’re so rude ? What kind of human are you, Y/N ? This is how you’re treating your date ?” He huffs, arms crossed in front of his chest like a little kid. But wait, a date ?

“This is not a date, Lee Minho, stop flirting with me.” You knit your brows together in confusion when his eyes twinkle. What’s with his demon nature being on steroids right now ? “Give me my phone.” You order.

“It’s a date when I say that it’s a date.” Minho reaches his hand outwards and links his fingers with yours. He quickly narrows the proximity between the two of you, backing you up against a wall. Utterly speechless, you find yourself dumbfoundedly melting into his touch. How can a demon possess such radiant warmth and tenderness ? Is it all just a facade or does he seem more human when he’s around you, you can’t tell either way. But what you do know is that when you relax a bit and let him hold your hand properly, it fits like a glove.

Minho cocks his head and cracks a smile. For the longest time, you’ve never noticed anyone looking at you with so much sincerity and affection. Maybe it’s all in your head after all. “What now ? You wanna watch a movie and put our hands into the popcorn at the same time to see what’ll happen or nah ?” You question, but it feels more like a question towards yourself.

Minho chuckles lightheartedly. “You’re so damn predictable Y/N.”

The rest of the night is absolutely magical. You feel like you’re acting in one of those One Direction’s music videos that’s not the typical ‘too good to be true’ kind. It really does remind you a lot of ‘Night Changes’ when Minho almost slips while holding onto you like a cat that just came in contact with water. Meaning, if it weren’t for your mediocre ice-skating skills way back from middle school, everything would have been exactly like the music video itself, in which you don’t mind. Because it’s Lee Minho, because his warm presence is something you never knew you needed in your life, because you always have this sense of comfort and happiness even when he starts cursing so loudly that your ears bleed. Demon or not, him being him is truly a blessing already.

Minho says. “I told you it’s humiliating.” He links your hand into his before stuffing it inside his pocket and drags you away from the front entrance. His hand’s got a lot warmer from staying inside his coat for so long and that makes him more human than ever. In which, makes you feel fuzzy.

“You freaking loved it, you can’t tell me otherwise.” You shake your head in denial.

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes for the tenth time. “Let’s go home.”

four.

The next day, Minho somehow convinces you to drive back to your apartment for packing. Not for running away this time, he’s had enough of that shit. But for a trip back to your hometown instead ( you really should have gone deeper into his ‘let’s go home’ from last night ). The flight will take approximately ten hours or more so he only gives you two hours to pack before leaving. You basically spend half an hour picking out clothes from the messy walk-in closet and another ninety minutes to fit all of them into your suitcase while having a mental breakdown inside your head.

Because gosh, what would they think ?

You’ve scared them all shitless for the last two days and now you’re just gonna show up at the front door and go “Hey, I’m done being miserable now.” ? Sounds like a pretty solid plan but you doubt that your mom’s not planning to beat you up with her favorite broom that’s covered in nothing but dust and spiderwebs. Not to mention, your brother is definitely gonna grill your ass for causing such a commotion in your family. You can already imagine him waiting for you at the foyer with crossed arms, getting ready to lecture the heck out of you.

“Did you lose your favorite pair of shoes or something ?” Minho suddenly fades into your room, making you jump slightly. You’ve got used to his particular ways of intruding your personal space but the demon never seems to fail at surprising you.

You glare at him. “Look who’s being rude now.”

Minho purses his lips. “I didn’t know humans were notorious for being terribly indecisive when it comes to their belongings.” He almost sneers, leaning back against your bedroom wall.

“That’s not the problem.” Yeah, that’s not the problem because not every human takes pain in packing their stuff, it’s just a ‘you’ problem. “I’m coming home after scaring the shit out of my loved ones. I wouldn’t blame them if they hated me, it’s just that I don’t know what to say. What do I say in situations like this ? School didn’t teach me that.” A sigh escapes your lips as you kick your suitcase towards the door. And you’re kinda glad that Changbin and Jisung left your apartment last night, specifically when you called them at one a.m. because you were driving back with a demon right next to the shotgun window.

Minho politely grabs the doorknob and pushes the door open for you. Now that was a first. You almost smile at his out-of-nowhere kind gesture. Normally, he would have teleported to the front porch and complained about how you’re always taking so long. “Hurry up dumbass, we don’t have all day.” He raises his brow at your thoughts.

“Tsk, you’re not the one who’s driving.”

Minho can’t drive, sadly. Partially because he doesn’t see the point in moving around in a fucking box with four wheels when he’s fully capable of teleporting from one place to another within a snap of his fingers. And partially because he can’t afford erasing some cops’ memories because they might have some kind of innovative technology that’ll automatically record when things go down. Another reason is that he might or might not chug a whole bottle of whiskey while driving just because he feels like it.

“It’s cold, roll down the windows.” Minho reminds you when he enters your car because gosh, you always love to keep the temperature at a minimum of 71 degrees even when it’s freezing outside. His cold-hearted demon ass is quaking because another cold case remains another mystery for the entirety of humanity. “You’d be a badass demon, just saying. I’m surprised that you’re still alive at this point.” He shakes his head in disapproval and leans forward to turn off the AC. Not because he’s cold but he’s afraid that you’ll actually freeze to death before you two can even make it to the airport.

You kick the brake when the first red light occurs. “Just admit it, you’re cold. If anything, you can always hold my hand.”

“Okay,” He blinks numerous time at your reply. When did you become such a brat ? You’ve been acting like him these past few days and now he knows how it feels like. Woah, he does act like an old, bitchy cat. “Who taught you that ?”

You say, sparing him a slight smirk. “You know, only the best of the best.”

“Just don’t act like that in front of your parents, will you ?” Minho scrunches his nose at your particular way of having a civil conversation. “You did tell your parents right ?”

You nod. “Yeah, I told them that I was gonna go home sooner or later. I even texted Chan— OH MY GOD,” You let out the loudest gasp whilst trying to make sharp turn at an intersection.

“What the fuck is wrong with you ?” He gasps in disbelief at your sudden outburst, holding onto the side of your car for dear life.

“I can’t just bring a demon home !” You cry out. “You’d be considered safe if it weren’t for my brother. He just happens to be home for break. God, do you know how protective he is when it comes to bringing a guy home ?!” One time, you asked your desk mate from highschool to do a project at your house and Chan didn’t even hesitate to put him on trial. Luckily, they talked things out pretty smoothly and became friends later. Now Felix’s probably the only guy who wouldn’t be thrown off a cliff for breathing in the same room as you.

Minho stares at you weirdly for a full twenty seconds, and that makes you think he’s mentally judging you, which he totally is. “Wouldn’t me being your boyfriend the best option then ?”

“Are you dumb, or are you dumb ?” You haven’t dated anyone since elementary school and the relationship didn’t even last a week. And now out of nowhere you’re just gonna bring a ‘boyfriend’ home after running away ? That’s practically equivalent to adding fuel to the fire and you doubt that Minho’s comprehend the situation correctly. That’s it, you’re officially letting all hell break loose from here. “Yeah, go ahead and be my boyfriend if you wanna sleep with the fishes.”

He throws a look at you. “Is that a challenge ?”

“Better not dress like that in front of my family then.” You glance at his bold choice of a silky wine colored dress shirt along with leather pants and combat boots. Can’t have him walking around looking like a celebrity now, can you ? Although he does look good in them… so annoying.

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

However, Minho’s outfit is most definitely the least of your worries.

five.

“Don’t tell me that you thought this through because-“

Minho says in a hushed tone. “I did think this through, baby. Loosen up a bit.” A devilish smirk blooms on his lips as he tucks some loose strands of hair behind your ear. He really needs to stop doing that because you’re already a blushing mess. He switched out his usual clothes and went for a comfortable hoodie with some jeans and sneakers. You hate him even more now because the demon easily pulled off the perfect boyfriend look.

Grimacing, you slap his hand away. “I’m not your fucking baby. And keep your hands to yourself, will you ?” And with that, you turn on your heels and make a beeline towards the kitchen where everyone’s busy setting up the table, leaving him in the living room alone.

Minho unconsciously plops himself onto the white faux leather couch and looks around in awe. Your house sort of symbolizes you because it’s minimal in the best way with a white color scheme and the occasional colorful tiny details on some of the decorative pieces. He starts pondering about how you never told him anything about your family in Australia. And although you grew up in a pretty well-off household, you didn’t flaunt your wealth. That makes you much more admirable in his eyes because not everyone can keep their mouth shut for more than two seconds when it comes to money.

Truth is, when your parents saw Minho for the very first time, they totally freaked out and drove to the nearest supermarket to shop for more ingredients. Now the house is filled with the aroma of a variety of grilled meat, vegetables, seafood and rice. He finally understands why you’re always homesick because gosh, who wouldn’t miss this kind of homemade food ? Minho props his head onto his hand as he watches your hard-working back figure from the living room, arranging the dishes onto the dining table with a smile on your face. And that stirs something inside him, he just doesn’t want to know it yet.

And Berry - your very much spoiled dog - is absolutely terrified by his dark presence. She keeps barking whenever he tries to pick her up, then ends up whimpering in the corner later. “Berry, don’t be rude ! He’s no stranger to us now.” Your mom nags while looking at Minho with an apologetic look. “Minho, honey, come join us. There’s no need to be so formal.” She offers him a seat at your family’s table warmly and he can already see where you got your smile from.

When he beams at her words and quickly takes the seat right beside you, you secretly roll your eyes at him. “I didn’t know dogs were supposed to be scared of demons. This is so obvious.” As you continue to complain about how he’s not acting naturally and all in a small tone, your hand automatically reaches for the chopsticks and picks out some lamb loin chops onto his plate. Minho simply brushes your words off, muttering a quick ‘thanks babe’ before pressing a kiss on your cheek.

Your eyes widen in surprise at his action, immediately darting towards your family members else whom have already gathered around. But before you can react properly, your dad cuts you off. “How sweet of you two.” He shows that signature ‘dad smile’ which never fails to melt your heart. “Don’t they remind you of us when we were young, dear ?” He tells your mom.

“Certainly, I still remember how—“

“Uhm, so, how did you two meet ?” Your brother - Chan - who’s sitting across the table tries his very best not to gag and changes the topic before things get out of hand. Your dad used to tell you about his first encounter with your mom, their first date and etc.. as an alternative version for the regular bedtime stories session. Chan has known too much already.

“We met at a dinner through a mutual friend during her business trip to Paris. I knew she didn’t come from Europe so if I didn’t ask for her number then, we would never meet again.” Minho has already made up a story during the dreadfully long flight, now all he has to do is read outloud. Easy mode. “We kept in touch and eventually, I moved back to Korea to meet her and stayed with her since then.”

Chan hums as a response, he doesn’t hate Minho yet, you can tell. “Why didn’t you tell me about him, Y/N ? Dad was so close to talking to Felix’s parents about setting you two up.”

You gulp slightly to hide your nervousness. Under the table, Minho squeezes your hand in reassurance, and that gives you enough courage to explain slowly. “I didn’t want to freak you out with our long distance relationship. You might go nuts knowing that I’m dating a guy who I’ve only met once and he’s nearly six thousand miles away.” And setting you up with Felix ? You would never let that happen. Not in a million years. It makes you shiver just thinking about holding your highschool deskmate’s hand while walking down the aisle. “And dad, Lee Felix ? Really ? I would rather be single.”

Your dad laughs. “Come on, he’s a pretty decent boy. Too bad he’s traveling overseas right now or I might invite him over.”

“So, Minho,” Chan sips on his drink. “What do you do for a living ?” When you two arrived at the front door, he finds such little amount that Minho’s luggage holds a bit skeptical, as if your relationship and the idea of coming home happens overnight. And how he wears clothes pretty casual too for a first time meeting the parents but Chan knows better than to judge a book by its cover. However, he wants to make sure that your ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t do drugs of any kind.

Minho doesn’t even hesitate. “I’m a dancer and owns a dance studio with my friend after when I flew back to Korea. I was in Paris for an internship over the summer.” You just sit there, blinking at him in disbelief like a total dumbass. Now you’re starting to wonder how it feels like to dance with the Devil. And if it weren’t for him kicking your leg under the table, your face would have given it away.

“Hmm, interesting.” Chan nods in acknowledgement. Well, at least he’s not unemployed… could have been worse.

Your mom advises thoughtfully as she walks over to the kitchen aisle and refills the plate of beef. “Oh, and be careful with the sauce for the lamb, it’s quite hot. If you’re not good with spicy food, just leave it out.”

“No, it’s fine. Actually, I can handle spicy stuff pretty well.. unlike someone over here.” Minho glances over at you. You immediately gut him with your elbow, earning a low grunt followed by a lighthearted chuckle of your family members.

“Minho can handle spicy things only because he’s getting old. His taste buds are losing their senses.” Your comment is partially true because he once told you that he’s been around for quite awhile. Definitely a lot older than the new batch of demons. He stopped counting at some point but ensured you that it’s somewhere from fifteen thousand and twenty thousand.

Minho looks at your sternly as the corners of his lips curled up. You’re already low-key mortified of what he’s going to say. “If you’re gonna act like a brat for the rest of the night, I’ll have to make sure that your legs will lose their sense by tomorrow morning.” Yep, there it is. You’re so used to his flirtatious remarks to the point that they don’t faze you anymore but having your family witness this is another level of torture. Minho’s definitely the type of guy ( if he were an actual human being ) who can’t be bothered about publicity and would straight up kiss you in the middle of the street.

And it doesn’t help either when Chan just doesn’t laugh loudly at your ‘boyfriend’s’ less than appropriate joke, he’s also on his side. Along with your parents. “I like you, not everyone can make her shut up like that.” Your brother nods in approval, clapping happily like a seal. Your parents even supply unhelpfully. “Try to keep it down and use protection, okay kids ?” Is this what betrayal feels like ?

You feel so adopted at that moment.

six.

“What the hell are you doing here ?” You try to groan as quietly as possible when you find Minho creeping up to you in the living room. “What part of ‘you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch, wake up before everyone else then come back to my room later on’ couldn’t you understand ?” A compromise was almost made, and he fucking blew it.

He chuckles and looks at you dreamily. For a second there, you really thought that he was sleep-walking. His brown hair is in a bird nest, accommodated by a pair of plaid pants and white t-shirt. This prick never fails to make your heart skip a beat. You’re glad that at least he doesn’t sleep shirtless like your brother. It gives you major nightmares since middle school just by waking him up every morning.

“I can’t sleep on a foreign bed..” Minho pouts. He really can’t, especially when you’re not around. And he’s not risking the chance of one of your folks or Chan accidentally. barging into the room when he’s doing some voodoo shit either.

You huff tiredly and walk over to him, grabbing the pillow from his arms before throwing it on the couch along with your blanket. Well, lucky him, your parents just happen to love ginormous couches and you’re far too lazy to drag him back to your bedroom. “Come here.” You order after plopping yourself onto the soft surface, letting out a prolonged yawn. Minho takes a good ten seconds to look at you again. He can’t help but keep staring like a creep when you’re in an oversized t-shirt with shorts underneath, exposing your bare thighs. You’re too cute for your own good.

You say when he remains silent. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

He obediently nods, quickly settling down under the blanket. You two shuffle around for a bit until no one’s uncomfortable with less than a few inches away from each other. And when you decide to flip yourself over to face the wall, Minho gently pulls your back flush against his chest. Your eyes fly open at the sudden contact. “What-the-fuck-do-you-think-you’re-doing ?” You turn around and stare at him square in the eye.

Even in the dark, his eyes are gleaming with a demonic glint of silver. He beams innocently at your threatening tone. “Get comfortable ?”

“I mean…” You hesitate for a few seconds. Because you’d hate to admit but it does feel kinda nice having his warmth radiating off from underneath his thin shirt. It makes you feel fuzzy inside, more secure, more like you’re finally home. “If you don’t mind then…” You gather up every last bit of courage and energy to scoot yourself towards him, your arms snaking around on either side and hug his torso closer, your face buried in his chest.

And it takes every single strand of willpower for Minho to not jump and teleport to the nowhere. His breath starts to quicken when your body is practically attached to his. He didn’t expect this at all. It might be because you’re exhausted from the flight so you’re just far too sleepy to be conscious of your own actions. But anyhow, he’s not against the idea of having you in his arms like this. It makes him more relaxed knowing that you’re safe in his sound right here.

So Minho drapes one of his arms around your waist to hold you in place and the other underneath his head, straddling his legs with yours to keep them warm since you’re only wearing shorts. “Thanks for dinner, by the way.” He murmurs into your hair, taking in the scent of your familiar shampoo.

“If anything, you should be thanking my parents. They looked like they just saw Jesus when you first arrived.” You say and snuggle closer to him.

He chuckles, sending vibrations to the tip of your nose. “Admit it, your family’s in love with me. Even your brother isn’t half as bad as you made it sound. I think he would actually have nothing against our wedding.”

You make a face and lift your head upwards to look at him. “Dude, it’s just really good acting. Such a shame how the other Lee Minho gets the title of an actor when you’re over here stuck with being a demon.” If you’re being completely honest, you’re kinda scared right now. Because one, all of this is just a big play and when you fly back to Korea, it may seem like nothing has ever happened. And two, if this goes way too far, your family might disown you for ‘breaking up’ with Minho when he wasn’t even your boyfriend in the first place.

“Actually, I’d be glad to take the title of being your boyfriend instead.” And the thumping force inside your chest picks up the pace as you can feel your cheeks heating up. His simple acknowledgement makes you flustered, absolutely moonstruck. No one has ever said that to you before, well, partially because you’re super single but you can’t help but let those words affect you tremendously. “Where do you want to go for our honey—“

“We’re not getting married.” You hiss at him like a snake.

Minho draws a cat-like grin on his lips, mischief glistening in his eyes. “Nuh uh too late. I’ll consider you as my own from now on, Mrs. Lee.”

You reply flatly. “You talk a lot for a demon who treasures their beauty sleep. You’re not vampires and you don’t watch people in their sleep, do you ?” The only person Minho watches in their sleep is you, but he’s not saying that to your face. And that was one time, one-time.

Upon his silence, you raise a brow. “Wait, you do ?”

“Who I watch in their sleep is none of your business, Y/N.” He replies with flaming cheeks.

You giggle. “I knew it, you’re related to Edward Cullen.”

“No, not that bitch Edward !” Minho makes a disgusted face but can’t contain his laughter for long. God, what are you doing to him ?

seven.

You wake up with a cold sensation wrapping around your feet. With body shivering slightly, you instinctively nuzzle your head into the nearest heat source, retreating your legs deeper into the fuzzy blanket. Groaning, you shake your head slightly to shake the weariness away. This is why you hate long flights with a passion because you’re never not gonna be jet lagged for the rest of your life.

“Why do you always wake up so fucking early ?” Your eyes shoot open at the hoarse voice only to find Minho squinting his eyes at you sleepily with his bedhead and wrinkled shirt. He looks so human right now you can care less about the fact that you’ve just spent an entire night on your parents’ favorite couch with a creature from Hell. Definitely boyfriend material.

“My feet get cold easily in the morning, and that wakes me up.” You pout and hold his torso closer. Minho tries his best not to flinch when your arm brushes over his as the strangest warm feeling bubbles up inside his stomach. And you’re glad that he doesn’t snore and isn’t a messy sleeper. Just sleeps like the death, which makes sense. Unlike your best friend, Seo Changbin who sleeps like a fucking starfish with his four limbs wide open. Give him a king sized bed and he can still manage to have his blanket on the floor by the time the sun rises.

Minho runs a hand through the messy bird nest on his head which takes the breath right out of your lungs because it looks like those too good to be true shampoo commercials with people who have shiny, luminous hair. But those models spend hours on a wooden stool for their stylists to make it look like they didn’t even try but they’re not even close to Minho’s league because he needs none of that in order to look attractive.

Finally, he sighs. “Go back to sleep then.” He pulls the blanket down slightly to cover your feet completely and hugs your waist closer so that your upper body won’t be bothered by the morning breeze. “I’ll make breakfast later, what do your folks usually prefer ?”

You look up at him in awe. No one has ever offered such a sweet thing to do when they come over to your house. Not even your relatives ‘cause they’re far too busy bombarding you and Chan with questions about your personal lives rather than helping your parents out with washing the dishes after a meal is done. Minho might look cold and all but it’s all really just the typical demon facade that he’s trying to maintain. He’s actually really caring and thoughtful, you’ve found more sense of morality whenever you look into his eyes deeply than when you look at other people.

“Lee Minho is making breakfast for my family ? What’s this ? Is World War III coming ? Is the world hanging on the verge of ending ?”

He shakes his head at you in disapproval. “I just wanted to do something nice in return to last night’s dinner. Your parents really didn’t have to go all the way to the supermarket just because of me.” And he secretly enjoys seeing you munching happily on the food that he makes. How your cheeks are bunched up when you accidentally take too much of a bite, how your eyes light up in joy when you melt into the taste. He loves you for being you, for going all out without trying to act like a lady, eating quietly and shit.

You think for a bit. “They all have a big appetite, plus they’re not picky so anything will do. Just try to work with things in the fridge that you find promising ?”

“Oh okay.” Minho shrugs before leaning forward to press a kiss on your forehead. “Go back to sleep please, I beg. Jetlag is killing me, or else I’m gonna have to kiss you again and again until you get tired of me and doze off.”

With coral cheeks, you muster the calmest voice possible. “Is that a challenge ? Because if so, kiss me before I kick you off the couch.”

He smirks at you. “If you’re willing to.” As he leans in closer, you can feel your confidence level decreasing dramatically, your heart feels like it’s running on a treadmill endless. You’re no longer brave enough to keep eye contact so your eyes are screwed shut at some point, waiting for his lips to collide with yours.

Suddenly his phone buzzes obnoxiously on the coffee table, making you two pull away in a hassle. “Sorry, I gotta take this.” Minho says sheepishly as he sits straight up and grabs his phone. The apologetic smile on his face drops when he sees the caller’s ID. He swipes right to answer, placing the cool device close to his ear. “Yeah, Hyunjin ?”

“Hyung, you’re going too far. Come back.”

eight.

It’s been a few weeks later, and your family can’t stop gushing over how lucky you are to find a boyfriend like Minho.

You start getting daily voice messages from your parents, asking if you’re taking good care of yourself, if Minho’s treating you well, if anything’s been hard lately. Oh boy you sure regret running away before because your parents keep checking up on you every two hours. If not for Minho, they would have made you move back to Australia for who knows how long.

With that being said, Minho is obligated to move in with you. But you’re not complaining at all because cuddling with him is naturally carved into you like second nature. Even Jisung and Changbin didn’t bother to question why you start to have two mugs by the sink, two pairs of slippers by the shoe rack and a foreign smell of cologne all over your couch. They’ve probably figured it out that you got yourself ‘a man’ since the night that you came back to the apartment in such a rush.

And from then, you wonder why you’ve never considered having a roommate before. There are always really shitty excuses inside your head like : what if your roommate has some kind of questionable habits, what if they’re secretly a part of some mafia organization ? But really, it’s because he’s Lee Minho, because you’re too utterly soft for him. Nonetheless, you did learn a few things from spending more time with him rather than locking yourself up with work.

The feeling of having someone waiting for you to come home is beyond heartwarming. And you’ve also learnt to use your time and effort on someone else rather than just yourself. It actually feels really nice because his presence brings more than just a sense of comfort and happiness to you. There’s something about him that’s irreplaceable. As if he’s your soulmate, that one person who adores you to the moon and back, who’s willing to bring out the best in you and deal with you when you’re at your lowest.

But the whole concept of soulmate is still debatable because life isn’t just peaches and cream, it’s roses and thorns.

“Something’s bothering you, tell me.” You make the sharpest of a turn to the left to snap Minho back to reality. You don’t like when people keep ignoring your questions.

“Nothing’s bothering me.” He answers flatly. Obviously, he’s lying because he’s only spoken to you seven words maximum since you started the car. “Follow-the-GPS-to-reach-the-destination.” That’s it. No more. No less.

You scoff. “Something’s clearly bothering you. I don’t need your mind reading crap to know what you’re thinking.” You’re trying so hard not to take an argument out on him, especially when you’re driving to somewhere you don’t even know. But Minho’s not dumb, you bet he already had everything planned out on his mind. There’s a reason for everything, so you don’t have anything against driving in the middle of the night, just because he insisted you to.

He voices. “I’m thinking about surprising you.” And when you glance at him sideways, there are those specks of playfulness glistening in his midnight orbs again. But there’s also something else, and it’s unfathomable. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” He reassures you with a somewhat forced smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Fine.” You sigh in defeat, carefully pulling over not to hit the tree by the road.

Minho jumps out of the vehicle first. “We’re here.” You roll your eyes at him playfully and follows not long after.

And the sight in front of your eyes leaves you speechless. Even in the eerie darkness, your eyes can still make out the vibrant display of multicolored flowers all over the green field. The sweet scent soon fills your nostrils, making your eyes go wide in awe. “Come on, over here.” Minho links his hand into yours and drags you along the dirt road, trying his best not to step on any flower. Once he stops, you realize that you’re in the middle of the field, surrounded by the most surreal things that you thought could only happen in fairy tales.

The sky represents a black curtain being draped over your entire universe, with milky swirls and glitter specks dancing elegantly in various patterns. It’s transcendental, you think. How the sight have all of your worries and concerns disintegrate into dust, how you’re here with him as time seems to stop when he looks at you with nothing but pure devotion in his eyes. You’re hanging by this moment, waiting for him to say something. “Do you like it ?” He breathes out ever so softly.

You nod repeatedly. “I love it, thank you, thank you, thank you !” Mixed emotions burst inside your chest and you unconsciously fall into his embrace as if you were meant to be there all along. You bury your head into the crook of his neck, letting his more than familiar cologne hug you like a warm blanket.

Minho opens his mouth to say something but snaps it close later on. The bitterness inside is making him nauseous, burying every last bit of courage to the bottom pit of his stomach. He has so much, so much to tell you yet nothing comes out right.

He’s the first to pull away. “I’m glad that you like it, Y/N.” Take good care of yourself, okay ?

“Of course I like it, it’s everything !” You smile, not noticing how there are tears brimming in the corners of his eyes when it’s so dark outside.

Minho tries to hide the shakiness in his voice. “Close your eyes, the stars will grant a wish to whoever has enough sincerity and purity.” You’ll be fine without me, will you ?

“A wish ? I guess…” You close your eyes, tightening the grip on Minho’s hands, accidentally ignoring how his hands are getting colder, and colder by the second. “There, I made a wish !” Your eyes fly open as you giggle happily. “We should come here more often, don’t you think ? Promise me that we’ll be here every week.” You extend your pinky finger outwards.

Minho nods, intertwining his finger with yours. “I promise.” I’ll miss you.

As a silent tear rolls down on his cheek, his orbs flash a shade of crimson red.

eight & ½.

Changbin cries out dramatically. “Y/N, a little help over here ? Hello ?” He’s struggling real hard to open the door while carrying the groceries all by himself.

You quickly snap out of it, running to help him with the whopping five paper bags in his arms. “Sorry, I just thought that I saw someone who looked familiar.”

He cranes his neck tiredly after stuffing the bags into the backseats of his Tesla. “Could be some guy who reached out to you before. You know how the industry works, if they want you, they gotta have you. So be careful, creepy people are literally everywhere.”

“Right..” You trail off and jump into his car, shutting the door close. Even when Changbin twists his key and drives away from the supermarket, you can’t help but turn your head constantly to see if there’s anyone. On the way out, you made eye contact with someone, who has an odd ray of red in their eyes. Normally, things like this would have crept you out but you found an unexpected sense of familiarity in those eyes. Perhaps you’ve met before ?

But why… red ?

“Hey Bin…” You start. “Do you believe in soulmates ?”

Changbin snickers. “What the fuck is wrong with you today ? Are you sick ?”

You wave your hand to brush the topic off. “You’re right, I stayed up until three last night, can really use a nap right now.” Maybe everything’s in your head after all.

But little did you know, from across the streets, the silhouette of a demon who once shared unforgettable memories with you is embedded onto the cold brick wall. Minho has his arms crossed in front of his chest, mind blank, eyes empty. He only dares to watch in silence as your friend drives you away, fighting back the voices inside his head that are yelling at him to just hug you, to see your smile, to hear your laughter.

Little did you know, he longs to be by your side again. Minho tried to force himself into hating you but he can’t. He can’t because you taught him how to love, because you mean far more than just the universe to him, because blaming hurts more than trying to forget you. But before things get out of hand, he managed to get a hold of himself and decided to cut ties with you for good.

This is for the better, he keeps telling himself.

People say that there’s no sorrow in the demons. Since joy and sorrow are like fire and ice, there’s no possibilities for them to exist in the same subject. Demons are believed to find joy in those who despise God’s commands, and rejoice over this kind of sinister power. Therefore, there’s no sorrow in the demons. Meaning, demons can never feel heartbroken because they simply don’t have one.

If so, then why can Minho hear something shattering into pieces inside his chest ? That’s because he’s experienced something other demons aren’t supposed to. He finally knows what it feels like to actually be ‘someone’ to someone, what it feels like to think of them all day and smile stupidly about it.

And that’s something other demons are fortunate enough to not get themselves into. Because they wouldn’t want to know how painful it is to not being able to be with their loved one. Demons attract other demons by their scents so if a demon fell in love with a mortal being, that one human will live in constant danger.

Not to mention, it’s going against God to fall in love with someone who’s so different, so out of reach. And Minho could never risk losing you to anything but he can risk it all to protect you.

“I just feel so fucking broken.”

“You’ll be fine.” Hyunjin gently places a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

But it is love after all… what can he do ?

417 notes · View notes

queerofthedagger · 5 years

Note

27 with jegulus?

Thanks for the prompt, Nonnie! 27 was: "Help me I'm being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second."

Like You Mean It

Pairing: James Potter/Regulus Black; Wc: 7109; Ao3

Warnings: None; Tags: Fake Dating, Professional Quidditch, Au - No Voldemort

Summary: When Regulus gets hit on in a Muggle bar while celebrating his graduation and signing up as a professional Seeker, he thinks asking James to pose as his boyfriend for a moment, instead of hexing an unsuspecting Muggle, is a rather smart move. After all, it's only for a few minutes, so it won't be much of a problem with the small crush he has. Right? Well - let's just say it doesn't work out that neatly. Until it does.

Regulus is going to kill Sirius, he thinks, weaving his way through the throng of people clustering the shady bar his brother dragged him to, narrowly avoiding getting drinks spilled on his shirt.

Alright, maybe nothing that drastic but he’s not sure why Sirius thought a ratty punk-bar in Brixton would be the obvious choice to celebrate Regulus’ graduation and signed contract for the Seeker position of the Falmouth Falcons. Or maybe he simply isn’t drunk enough yet.

Ducking underneath another elbow, he steps up at the end of the long-winded bar that runs along the wall, leaning his elbows onto the dark wood and watches as the two barkeepers try to keep up with the string of orders.

The bass of the rough music is reverberating in his head, he can feel the vibrations through his shoes and up his legs and the strobing lights let everything appear slower, like watching a series of individual pictures in quick succession and he can admit, at least to himself, that he kind of gets why Sirius likes to come here.

It’s a stark contrast to the wizarding world, to everything they grew up with and he can nearly taste the sense of defiant freedom the people here carved out for themselves – he’s just annoyed that he lost Sirius, James, and Remus somewhere in the jumping crowd and isn’t all that certain that he fits in here.

“Hey there, pretty boy!” a loud voice shouts way too close to his ear for comfort, the words slightly slurred and he clenches his jaw, refusing to visibly jump.

Taking a deliberate step back, he slowly turns, lips curving into an instinctive sneer. Maybe he’s going to reconsider the murder plans from earlier he thinks, looking the guy up and down. He’s taller than Regulus, which is saying something, and twice as wide, with an unkempt beard and an unrefined face. Worst of all, he’s leering and Regulus’ fingers itch for his wand.

“What do you want?!” he asks, raising an eyebrow and standing up a bit taller.

His hostile attitude doesn’t seem to deter the guy; he simply takes another step towards him, leaning close and grins. “Don’t be shy. You look bored, and a pretty guy like you – “

Right, no. His eyes flicker to the side and he thinks he’s never been more relieved to see James Potter standing only a few feet away, leaning over the bar and talking to the barkeeper. Without another word, he steps around the guy and pushes his way over to James, pressing up close to him.

James looks surprised but flashes him a quick smile. “Alright there, Reg? Enjoying yourself?”

He silently thanks whoever is listening that just now there’s a switch of the bands, just background music filling the small space, and that he doesn’t have to shout to be heard. “No, but listen. There’s this absolutely disgusting guy hitting on me so, to prevent me from hexing the living daylight out of some Muggle, pretend to be my boyfriend for a moment, yeah? Great, thanks. There he comes.”

James' eyes widen and he opens his mouth, but Regulus elbows him into the side before wrapping an arm around his waist. James tenses for a moment but he seems to get it quickly enough, eyes suddenly dancing with mirth. He throws an arm around Regulus’ shoulders, leaning close. “Alright, but you owe me.”

Regulus spares a moment to consider that this might not have been his best idea; he harboured a small crush on James for years now, and they’re going to play on the same Quidditch team soon. Then again, it’s not like this is going to take longer than a few minutes and he’ll probably only have to help him prank Sirius or something.

Shaking his head, deciding to worry about this later and ignoring the little voice in his head telling him that he might be drunker than expected, he leans into the hug, turning his head when the guy steps up next to James and looks at the two of them.

James’ smile vanishes and he tightens his grip on Regulus, who’s definitely not enjoying this more than he should. “Need something?” James asks, all that arrogance and cockiness he carried through his first six years of school breaking through.

“I was just talking to your friend – “

“My boyfriend,” James says with a pointed look. “And he didn’t appreciate it, so if you could get lost – “

The guy frowns, lips curling downwards and for a moment, Regulus thinks that this could turn very ugly. “Are you certain about that?”

Regulus sneers, glaring and leaning around James. “Who the fuck do you think you are to question that? Even if I wasn’t, I was obviously not interested so I’m going to repeat what James just said – get lost!”

He thinks there’s something like recognition flickering through his eyes, but it’s gone just as quickly. “Well then, your loss.”

Both James and he snort and shake their heads at his retreating back. Before either of them can say anything, Sirius steps into the empty spot, looking between them and the guy that just left them alone. “What in Merlin’s name did you talk with Andrews about?”

“Who?” James asks, taking his glass from the bar and downing half of it, still not taking his arm from Regulus’ shoulder.

He tells himself he only stays close in case they’re being watched, but he’s not sure he believes that himself.

“Andrews – the new Beater from your team? You know, Quidditch – “

“You’re kidding me,” James states confidently, shaking his head and smirking at Sirius like he easily sees through his joke.

Sirius looks confused though, slowly shaking his head. “Eh no, I don’t? He was at the try-outs and got the spot – how can you not know that? And what did you do that he looked so pissed?”

James falters, running a hand through his hair and Regulus takes his glass from him because he really needs a drink right now.

“We – well, he – what the fuck is he doing here? This is a Muggle bar,” he says, his throat still burning from the whiskey.

Sirius looks at him like he’s a bit dense and he scowls at him.

“The whole team is here, you know that – and what is it with you two, anyway?!”

James groans, dropping his head onto Regulus’ shoulder who keeps himself from running his hand up and down James’ spine by pure force of will.

“He was hitting on me, and rather disgustingly as well,” he says, lips twitching when Sirius’ exasperation morphs into an annoyed scowl on his behalf. “He didn’t get the message and I spotted James, so – well, I asked him to act as my boyfriend for a second.”

Telling it to Sirius, it doesn’t sound as smart anymore as it did a few minutes ago and Sirius’ barking laugh doesn’t help matters. “You did what? That’s the best you come up with when someone is hitting on you? Merlin Reg – “

“I know, I know okay?! It’s not like James didn’t agree though,” he says, rolling his eyes and nudging James a bit who finally looks up again.

“Did you, now?” Sirius asks with an amused smirk, raising a brow at James.

James shuffles his feet a bit, avoiding to look at either of them before flashing Sirius a sheepish grin. “I didn’t know it’s him – and well, Regulus said otherwise he’s going to hex the guy, so I thought, you know, before getting an incident on our hands because of breaking the Statute of Secrecy – “

Sirius laughs again, shaking his head. “Very self-sacrificing, Prongs. Well, if you two don’t want to have a spit with your future teammate already, I’d suggest you keep that up for a while.”

Regulus’ eyes widen and he quickly looks at James, who appears to be far less concerned by that idea than he has any right to, instead just tightening his hold on Regulus and grinning at him.

“Well then, seems like we have a fake dating thing going on.”

Yeah, definitely not one of his best ideas Regulus thinks, plucking the glass out of Sirius’ hands. How is he supposed to get through this without going mad within weeks?

He wakes up with a pounding head, a dry throat and pain in his back, and it takes him long moments to remember where he is and why he feels like he had a run-in with a Hippogryph.

Blinking his eyes open, he looks around the messy living room of James’ and Sirius’ flat, books, vinyl’s and a few empty mugs littering the dark hardwood floor and available surfaces and he slowly pulls himself up into a sitting position.

“Morning,” Sirius greets him, levitating two mugs and handing one to Regulus, looking way too cheery for his tastes.

All he manages is a grunt in response and he closes his eyes in bliss at the first sip of hot coffee. Sirius throws himself into one of the worn armchairs across from him, watching with an amused expression as Regulus slowly returns to the land of the living.

“As often as you’re staying here since you graduated, we could actually consider giving you the third room,” Sirius breaks the silence after a few minutes, and when he looks up, he’s smirking. “Would give your whole relationship-story a bit more weight, too?”

He’s confused for a few seconds before realisation washes over him and he curses under his breath, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his face into them.

“Oh come on, James isn’t that bad,” Sirius teases, obviously enjoying the whole thing far too much and Regulus thinks he would like to hex his brother. “I was serious about the room though. It basically serves as a storage room right now, and then you wouldn’t have to stay at Grimmauld’s. Or constantly sleep on the couch.”

Distaste is clear in Sirius’ tone and he looks up again, sighing to himself. “Mother is going to throw an epic fit if I move in with you. Even worse than when she found out I signed up for Quidditch.” He doesn’t manage to hide the slight wince at the memory and Sirius’ face turns a bit softer.

“Exactly why I’m offering, she’s not suddenly going to stop pestering you about it.”

Drawing his bottom lip between his teeth, he thinks about it. Normally, he would agree without a second thought. Sirius and he mended their relationship over the last 2 years after drifting apart when he was sorted into Slytherin, and while they’re always going to be different, they get along well enough.

The bigger problem is James – not because he doesn’t like him, more due to the fact that he probably likes him a bit too much, and just got himself into a fake relationship with him. He’s not so naïve to think that this couldn’t blow up in his face.

“I’ll think about it,” he says after a few moments, sinking deeper into the cushion and closing his eyes, trying to calm his racing heart.

James finds them like this, flopping down next to Regulus unceremoniously. A quick glance at him is enough to nullify all his effort to calm down – James looks soft, hair wet and wearing a white t-shirt that stretches over his chest and shoulders, and he’s smiling at both of them.

“That was a good night, wasn’t it?” James says, stretching his arms over the backrest and coming terribly close to Regulus. “Got drunk, danced a lot, celebrated Regulus and I even got a new boyfriend.”

The smirk and satisfaction in James’ tone nearly make him choke on his coffee and he has to fight hard to keep his composure. Of course James Potter would make a joke out of it he thinks, not without some bitterness.

Sirius just snorts, throwing a cushion vaguely into their direction and missing by a landslide.

“You should probably come up with some story, so when someone asks, you’re not contradicting each other. It’s bound to get some attention, seeing that you’re both professional Quidditch players now.”

Regulus just groans again, letting his head fall back and startling when it lands on James’ arm. Merlin, what did he get himself into?

James hums, obviously unbothered by their closeness. “We started dating after I left school and finally got over Evans, otherwise nobody is going to believe it anyway, or make a whole lot of drama out of it. I don’t know, we met through you, of course, and kept the whole thing silent because Reg was still in school.”

“Oh yeah, that’s good! So you’ve not been together for long, let’s say a month? Means you’re still in your honeymoon phase though,” Sirius goes on, throwing his legs over the armrest of the chair he’s sitting in. “You don’t have to shout it from the rooftops, of course, it all depends a bit on how much Andrews is going to bother you about it or if he’ll just keep his mouth shut.”

Regulus doesn’t think that it’s very likely, seeing how bad the idiot took their proclamation last night, but he doesn’t feel inclined to join their planning session right now.

“Makes sense, though we shouldn’t act like we’re just friends all the time. It’s not like there’s much room during practice to be all couple-y but, you know, arriving and leaving together, holding hands, that kind of stuff,” James says, his hand nudging Regulus’ shoulder who only nods in response.

“Oh, and then you can stage a breakup in a few weeks – if you didn’t date for long and say it’s a mutual decision, nobody’s going to doubt that it’s not that hard for you two to still get along – for my sake, if for nothing else,” Sirius grins, clapping his hands together.

“What do you think?” James asks, and it takes him a moment to realise that the question is directed at him.

Shrugging, he leans forwards again to get away from James for a bit. “Sounds fine to me. Now that I know that the git is a wizard, I can simply hex him if he’s getting on my nerves anyway, so we could actually cut this rather short.”

There’s a flash of… something in James’ eyes but then he shakes his head and grins. “Don’t spoil the fun, I actually like the idea. It’s going to be great!”

Of course James would see it this way, just another prank he can pull.

“Yeah alright, it’s probably better to not already antagonise my teammates already,” he says with a sigh. If he tells himself often enough that it’s the only reason he’s agreeing to this, he might actually believe it at some point.

The next few weeks are flying by and the whole thing turns out to be less taxing on him than he thought. They simply arrive at and leave training together often, hold hands and share their breaks – ignoring the hand-holding, which is rather nice as far as Regulus is concerned, it’s not that different from what they would be doing, anyway.

Unfortunately, the press catches wind of it soon. They can’t be sure if they’ve been seen or if their teammates couldn’t keep their mouths shut, but about a month after it all started, there’s an extensive article both in the Prophet and Witch Weekly.

Both Bachelors Black and Potter off the market!

Dear readers, you’re going to be as surprised as I was when the news reached me the first time. Regulus Black (18) and James Potter (19), both fresh, young players of the Falmouth Falcons, are no longer single!

James Potter already became well-known over the course of the last season, filling the position as Chaser directly out of Hogwarts where he led the Gryffindor team to the Quidditch cup six years in a row, the last two years as captain.

Many girls and boys are aware of James’ good looks and charming smile, and there have been speculations about his relationship status for the whole of last year, only outmatched by his best mate, Sirius Black (20).

This season found another young talent among the ranks of the Falmouth Falcons. Sirius Black’s younger brother, Regulus Black, got chosen as the new Seeker and is rumoured to easily match James Potter’s talent. He not only matches him in talent though – the Black family is well-known, not only for their high standing in society but also for their very good looks, and Regulus is no exception.

So maybe it shouldn’t be such a huge surprise that both rising Quidditch stars found themselves a partner – but I think nobody is going to contradict me when I say that it’s rather unexpected that they are in a relationship with each other.

An anonymous source tells me: “Potter and Black always arrive at training together and are basically inseparable as soon as they’re off the pitch. They’re often seen holding hands and Black spends a lot of his time over at his brothers flat, where both Sirius Black and James Potter live together.”

Well, dear readers, I can’t say that they aren’t making one of the most handsome couples I’ve laid eyes on in some time! I’m sure we would all like to know how their relationship came to be! Is Sirius Black fine with this fresh love between his brother and his best friend? What does the Black family think about it? And what will happen if they break up at some point – that wouldn’t be easy, playing on the same team! Stay tuned, this reporter will make sure to keep you up to date!

Regulus would have laughed about the article as much as James and Sirius probably did if he hadn’t found out about its existence by his mother reading it out loud, her voice trembling with barely repressed fury.

His first instinct is to deny it, but the annoyance and defiance that’s been building within him for some time now rears its head – it shouldn’t matter what the bloody hell he does with his time, or whom he’s dating and even if this relationship wasn’t completely fake, she has no right whatsoever to demand he ends it. He stubbornly ignores the voice that tells him that he’s starting to go a bit far for this whole thing, tells her straight-up she can shove it, packs his stuff and moves into the spare room in Sirius’ and James’ flat.

Sirius looks way too proud when he tells him what happened, grinning brightly and throwing an arm around his shoulders. “I knew you had it in you! We have to celebrate that!”

It’s then that James walks in, bags of groceries in his arms and he smirks at them. “Hey, hands off my boyfriend, Padfoot!”

Regulus chokes out a laugh, still a bit incredulous that he actually walked out on his mother, but Sirius simply snorts, rolling his eyes at James. “You can be glad I let you fake-date my little brother, don’t test me.”

Regulus smacks the back of his head before stepping out of his reach. “You said something about celebrating? I could use a drink.”

“Let’s go to the Leaky Cauldron, we shouldn’t get too wasted seeing that it’s our last training before the match tomorrow and that never works out in Muggle London. We can ask Remus and Peter as well,” James pipes up from the kitchen.

When they walk into the pub an hour later, Regulus’ nerves calmed a bit and he actually feels like he made the right decision. If everything goes to hell, he can always find his own place, it’s not like he’s lacking the money.

His good mood dims when they not only find Remus and Peter but half of their team in one of the boots in the back, including Andrews who made it his personal goal to get on both of his and James’ nerves in the last few weeks.

Still, it would have been impolite to not join them and it’s not like they don’t give as good as they get.

It’s still a funny night; they drink too much beer and firewhiskey, exchange guesses and theories about the coming match and Quidditch in general and he gets into a lengthy discussion with James about the possible uses of Transfiguration in a duel.

They’re sitting close to each other, James’ arm over the back of his chair and their knees knocking together occasionally. It’s a good thing that everybody believes they’re dating and that he can put his lingering glances down to acting his part; his heart is beating too fast and he feels warm, and he tries to keep reminding himself that this is not real, that James’ small smiles and short touches are nothing but an act, a game to him, but he’s not all that successful.

At some point, the inevitable needling from Andrews starts, because of course it does. “So, how’s it with the two of you? We only ever see you holding hands and sure, it’s cute and all but you’re either disgustingly innocent or maybe not as in love as you claim to be.”

“What, just because you don’t find us snogging on the Quidditch pitch every other day?” Regulus sneers, unable to help himself. “If you want a show, visit a strip club, for Merlin’s sake.”

James laughs and a warm sense of satisfaction curls in his chest at the thought that it was he who put that carefree expression there.

“It is a bit weird, though,” Mary Charleston speaks up with a thoughtful look. “Don’t get me wrong, you two are definitely disgustingly in love, there’s no doubt about that – “

And isn’t that a bad joke, Regulus thinks bitterly, carefully keeping his face free of that emotion.

“ – But I didn’t take either of you for much of a prude – well, especially not Potter.”

He’s just readying himself to tell them all where they can stick it and that he doesn’t need to indulge in public displays of affection because he doesn’t owe them anything, when James’ hand slides up his arm and settles on his neck, and at the same time he turns, leaning forward in his chair and kisses Regulus.

It’s like his mind goes blank within a second, everything narrowing down to the soft, warm lips pressed against his, the thumb drawing circles into his neck and James’ smell invading his senses, of freshly cut grass and soap and something spicy – pine maybe, he can’t think straight enough to actually tell.

It takes him a moment to open his eyes again after James pulls back, their faces still close and a soft smile tugging at James’ lips before he gives a soft sigh and sits back in his chair, smirking at the others. “There, satisfied?”

Reality crashes back into him and he swallows against the feeling of cold disappointment that replaces the warmth and elation within seconds. He’s never been so thankful for the endless hours of his mother telling him to never show what he feels, he thinks, biting his tongue and raising a challenging brow at Andrews. Right. All just an act.

“Alright, that was hot. And convincing,” Mary says, grinning at the two of them and he forces himself not to tense when James puts his arm back around his shoulders.

Later, when they’re home and he retreated into his room, there’s a soft knock on the door and James steps in, wearing sweatpants and a washed-out shirt that makes Regulus fingers itch to pull him into bed.

“Hey, just wanted to check – sorry if I overstepped earlier, I was…” James trails off, ruffling his hair and the movement has his shirt riding up, revealing a sliver of tanned skin Regulus has to draw his eyes away from.

Gesturing dismissively, he just shakes his head, looking back down at his book. “Don’t worry about it, it was just a short kiss.”

James is silent for a moment and when he looks back up, he’s watching him with a small frown.

Exhaling slowly, he smiles. “Honestly James, it’s alright.”

“Yeah I – okay, good. Goodnight then,” James murmurs, leaving his room and shutting the door before he can say anything else.

The next morning, it’s like nothing happened and no matter how convoluted his feelings on the whole matter are, Regulus is glad for that right now. He’s nervous enough as it is with their first match taking place today, and he shoves each and every thought that involves James as far away as possible.

Still, as soon as he takes off and the game starts, it’s like he left all his nervousness behind. It’s perfect weather for flying – it’s cold but the sky is clear, weak November sun promising a good chance to spot the Snitch, and he quickly starts circling the pitch above the rest of the players, letting his eyes wander and keeping half an ear on the commentary.

Puddlemere United played rather badly in the last season but they exchanged half of their team and it’s hard to tell how it’s going to affect this year, though if the fact that, after 15 minutes, the Falmouth Falcons are already leading with 50 points, it might have not been of much use.

James is in his best form, and Regulus catches himself a few times watching him play for a tad too long – that’s definitely a habit he needs to let go of he thinks, letting his eyes roam over the stands.

It wasn’t that much of a problem in Hogwarts, seeing that they only ever had one match against each other per year, but he can’t keep getting distracted now. Maybe he shouldn’t have joined the same team then, that annoying, little voice speaks up again and he shakes his head to dispel it.

A flicker to his right catches his attention and he turns his head, fixing his eyes on the little, golden ball that’s currently hovering at the bottom of Puddlemere’s goalposts. It’s closer to him than the opposing Seeker, Jones, and he doesn’t waste another second to drop into a dive, weaving between players and taking a sharp turn when the Snitch zips to the left.

A brief look over his shoulder shows him that Jones noticed the Snitch as well, or at least that something is going on, but he’s too far behind to catch up and if the Snitch doesn’t do something very annoying, he shouldn’t have much of a chance.

As if reading his thoughts, it suddenly changes directions and flies straight up. Gritting his teeth, he follows, ignoring Jones when he pulls close to him. There are only a few feet left before he can grab it and he curses under his breath when it pulls to the right, directly out of his path. He just thinks he’s going to lose after all when it flies back, back into his way and he can’t help his whoop of joy when his hand finally closes around it.

James touches down only a second after him and before he knows what’s happening, throws his arms around Regulus’ neck and pulls him into a deep, demanding kiss. His body is still soaring with the rush from winning them their first game and he simply clenches his fingers into the front of James’ robes, pushing against him and letting himself get lost in this marvellous feeling.

A hand lands on his shoulder, pulling him back and they break apart, for a moment just grinning at each other and then there’s a bright flash and Regulus whirls around, staring at the reporter holding a camera and wearing a self-satisfied smile.

It’s like dropping into the freezing Great Leak from hundreds of feet up in the air, his chest clenches and he balls his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms and teeth grinding together.

It’s only minutes of celebration until they’re free to go to the changing rooms but it feels way too long, thoughts racing through his head with only the burning need to get away really reaching him.

Bloody hell but he can’t do this any longer. It’s been fine when holding hands was all they did but this, this makes him go mad because the longer it goes on, the more often James kisses him, the more he realises that he’s long since past a simple crush.

All that time they spent together, in training, in their flat, talking about books and Quidditch and James making him laugh until his stomach hurt, it’s simply too much and he doesn’t think he can keep up this façade any longer; not even regarding their teammates or the public, he honestly couldn’t care less about that now, but he just knows that one of these days he’s going to break and tell James exactly how little of his affection he has to fake.

And if he’s certain about one thing, it’s that he can’t do that. It’s been obvious from the very beginning that this is all one great, hilarious prank to James and in the best case, James would simply laugh at him; in the worst, he’s going to be sorry for Regulus and he doesn’t think he could take that.

He needs distance, desperately so, and as soon as he’s out of sight and can slip away from his still cheering team, he apparates back to the flat and storms into his room, haphazardly throwing a few things into a bag and leaving again within less than 10 minutes.

He’s a bit surprised to find himself on Barty’s doorstep. They kept in touch after school, one of the few real friends he actually made at Hogwarts, but he realises with a start that it’s been some time since they’ve seen each other and it’s mostly due to him spending nearly every moment with James and Sirius.

They have that effect on people, he thinks, clenching his jaw – drawing you in, making you forget everything else, and he got completely lost in it.

Fortunately, it’s Barty’s mother that answers the door. His father never liked Regulus much, solely because of him being a Black, and he’s not sure he could have stayed calm and polite right now on top of everything else.

“Oh, hello Regulus, I didn’t know Barty was expecting you. No matter though, he’s in his room, just go on through,” she greets him with a kind smile, and he forces himself to return it.

Her worried frown tells him that he wasn’t all that successful, but he quickly ducks into the corridor, thinking that he’d probably break and spill everything if she asked him if he was alright in that motherly way he always envied a bit.

Barty’s sitting on his bed, surrounded by books and parchment with an ink-stain on his left cheek and a quill tugged behind his ear, getting a fleeting smile out of him.

“Hey,” he says quietly, staying in the doorway and suddenly uncertain what to say.

Barty’s head flies up in surprise but it’s quickly replaced by a bright smile. “Reg! Didn’t expect to see you, come in! Didn’t you just have your first match today?”

The tight knot in his chest loosens ever so slightly at the warm, familiar comfort of Barty’s company and he drops his bag to the floor where he stands before flopping down into the chair next to Barty’s bed. “Yeah, we won.”

“Alright – shouldn’t you be… I don’t know, happy about it?” Barty asks with raised eyebrows, slowly gathering the many pieces of parchment into a neat pile.

Shrugging, he looks away from him, pondering what to say. “Yeah I am – or well. It was a good match, at least,” he finally sighs, running a hand over his face, fingers lingering on his lips for a short moment.

Honestly, James Potter doesn’t have any fucking right to kiss him like he means it.

“Well, why are you scowling like someone killed your Kneazle, then?”

Grimacing, he blows out a long breath and closes his eyes for a moment. “It’s – I – James…”

“Your boyfriend?” Barty asks surprised, leaning back against the wall and stretching his legs out. “By the way, you could have told me that you finally got your crush to go out with you, you unfaithful git.”

He groans, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees before burying his face in his hands. “He’s not – we’re not together.”

“What?! Did he break up with you?! I swear to Merlin – “

A quick look shows Barty already half up from his bed, wand in his hand and a short laugh escapes him, and even he can tell that it sounds vaguely hysteric. “No, we were – we just pretend to be together. Pretended. Salazar, I swear this is such a mess.”

Barty stares at him for long moments before slowly sitting back down. “Do you mean to tell me that you thought it’s a good idea to fake-date the guy you’ve been crushing on ever since 5th year? Didn’t you even move in with them?”

He just nods defeatedly, feeling the beginnings of a headache.

“Merlin Reg, that’s so exceptionally stupid I wouldn’t even have expected it from your brother, much less you.” It’s a sober, clinical statement and he can’t help but agree.

“It’s not like I planned to, you know?” he says with another sigh and Barty just looks at him disbelievingly. “Really, we were in this Muggle bar and there was a guy hitting on me, not taking no for an answer. So I asked James if he could act like my boyfriend, thinking it would be a case of a few minutes. Well, turned out that he was the new Beater of our team.”

Slowly, Barty pulls the whole story out of him, his face becoming more sympathetic and exasperated with each passing minute.

“Well,” he says when Regulus is finally finished. “It’s still stupid and you could have ended it weeks ago, but I kind of see why you didn’t, you miserable sod.”

Regulus just opens his mouth to answer, he doesn’t even know what, when the door to Barty’s room opens.

Expecting to see Ms. Crouch, he startles violently when James is stepping inside, face flushed and slightly out of breath.

“No, absolutely not!” Barty snaps, already up and halfway through the room before Regulus even processes what he’s seeing.

It’s kind of cute and reminds him that Barty has always been a bit overprotective for whatever reason, but it’s also misplaced. He calmed down considerably since getting here and it’s probably better to get the whole thing over with rather sooner than later.

Getting up, he pulls Barty back from James who, for his part, has his hands raised in a placating gesture and looks terribly confused. “It’s alright, I’ll be back in a minute,” he says tiredly, gesturing for James to lead the way. “Let’s go outside.”

They’re silent until they reach the French doors leading into the garden and Regulus leans against the wall, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Bad habit he picked up from Sirius, he thinks, staring at it for long moments before sighing again and meeting James’ eyes.

“I just – Why did you… I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know it would bother you so much more than last night and I was just – “

Exhaling the smoke in a rush, he holds up a hand and shakes his head. “It’s not about that. I just – we should end this whole charade,” he says quietly, watching as the wind whips around white particles of ash before carrying them away.

“What – why?” James stammers, his voice somewhat rough and when he glances at him out of the corner of his eyes, he’s frowning and has a hand fisted into his hair.

Shrugging, Regulus looks away again, fixing his eyes on the forest at the edge of the grounds that are already becoming indistinguishable in the fading light. “It was never meant to go on for so long anyway, and the longer we keep it up, especially with – “ he gestures helplessly into James’ direction, “Stuff like you did today, the more complicated it gets.”

James huffs, staying silent for a moment. “But I’m – I mean it’s going well, isn’t it? I stop kissing you if you want – “

“For fuck's sake,” he finally snaps, glaring at James who takes a step back. “You had your fun, it’s all been a great prank, but I can’t – I don’t want to do this anymore, so you just have to find yourself a different pastime, alright?”

“It’s not been some prank for me!” James instantly shoots back, his eyes blazing.

“Oh yeah? Then what was it, really? And don’t tell me you simply did it because I asked you to, it’s been rather obvious how much you enjoyed this little game,” he sneers, burying all his hurt and disappointment deep underneath the anger and not caring one bit that he’s being a bit unfair here. Honestly, James could have simply left him alone, or at least agree to stop the whole thing and leave it at that.

“I enjoyed it because I like you! Because I’m – I have – “

“Oh great, yeah. I like you too, but that doesn’t mean that we have to pretend to be a bloody couple. You don’t do that with Sirius either, do you?!”

James stares at him incredulously, his hands balled into fists at his side and it’s a weird feeling all this provokes in him – it’s painful, fighting like this, but it’s also easier, better than this soft, intimate side he witnessed over the last few weeks, and the self-destructive, proud, stubborn part of himself wants to make it worse, wants to burn all the bridges they’ve built between them and only remember this because it would make everything so much safer.

“Are you – for Merlin’s sake Regulus,” James sighs, suddenly sounding tired, shoulders slumping and his hand messing up his hair for the umpteenth time. “I have a bloody crush on you, alright? Not even – I suppose it’s more than a crush and really, I should have told you earlier and not take advantage of the whole situation but it was just – at least it let me pretend, for a moment, that it – that we could be something more because, well… Nevermind, I should go.”

There’s a strange, rushing sound in his ears, he can feel his heart racing painfully in his chest and his mouth is dry as he watches James turn with one last, sad look at him.

“Wait,” he manages to choke out, the word coming out raspy and silent and he quickly takes two steps forward, curling his fingers around James’ wrist before he even knows what he’s doing, before he has any idea what he’s supposed to say.

James turns slowly, frowning and looking at the spot where Regulus is still holding his wrist. He lets go on instinct, wincing at the resigned look flashing through James’ eyes. Merlin but he’s absolutely shit at talking about feelings, there are a thousand things he wants to say and each and every one of them sounds more ridiculous and stupid than he can bring himself to voice.

The longer he’s silent, the more James’ face shutters, his lips pressing into a thin line and his shoulders tensing, and fuck he really needs to say something and maybe it doesn’t matter all that much what it is, exactly, in the end.

“I – Me too, I mean – it’s why I… Why I was so set on ending this because I just couldn’t – it’s too hard to pretend, all the time and you – fuck, why is this so hard?” he laughs hollowly, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “I like you, like, a lot.”

James turns fully towards him then, taking a step closer and slowly raising his hands to Regulus’ face, thumbs running over his cheekbones and he closes his eyes, leaning into the touch.

“I should have asked you this much earlier, but can I kiss you, please?” James murmurs, so close already that his breath is ghosting over Regulus’ lips and he doesn’t think he could speak if he wanted to, so he simply nods.

It’s a soft, careful kiss, just a brushing of lips and completely different from their first two kisses but it makes his breath catch and a shiver run down his spine, much more intense than the others. He wraps his arms around James’ waist, pulling him closer and deepens the kiss, has to fist one hand into the back of James’ jumper because he feels like if he doesn’t ground himself somehow, he’s just going to break apart or drown, going to burst with the rush of happiness and disbelief and joy that’s threatening to overwhelm him.

James tangles his hands in Regulus’ hair, humming softly and bites into his bottom lip before running his tongue over the spot.

“Hey Reg, are you – oh.”

They only slowly break apart and it takes several moments for him to comprehend that Barty is standing in the doorway, looking at them with wide eyes. Regulus can’t help the laugh escaping him, his heart still racing and happiness bubbling within him. Really, he thinks, going through such a wide arrange of emotions in the course of half a day can’t be healthy, and he leans against James for support because he fears his legs might just give out in exhaustion.

“I’m fine, as you can see. We kind of – sorted it out,” he finally manages to say, knowing that he must look like an utter sap right now but he just can’t find it in himself to care.

Barty snorts, shaking his head. “I figured. So I take it you’re not staying?” he says with a smirk, looking between the two of them.

James' arm around him tightens at the mention, making his heart jump again. “No, thank you. But we should catch up soon, yeah? You need to visit us, or come to one of our matches,” he says, still remembering that he thought he should see Barty more often.

“Will do,” Barty says with mock-seriousness before pinning James with a look. “Don’t do anything stupid, Potter.” With that, he turns on his heel and disappears back into the house, and Regulus can only hide his laughter in James’ neck.

“Let’s go home,” James murmurs into his hair, and Regulus didn’t think something as simple as that could sound so terribly good.

#regulus black #james potter #jegulus #james x regulus #james/regulus #mona's writing #yeah finally filled another prompt

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nikibogwater · 4 years

Text

A Shot in the Dark: Chapter 2 (Author’s Commentary--pt 1)

Read the fic here

Author’s Commentary pt. 2

General Notes:

Yes, I actually had to split the commentary into two parts because there was just So. Much. Going on in this chapter. We shifted over to Douxie’s perspective as he and Nari spent a lovely day about NYC, were properly introduced to the antagonist, and ended on what is probably the cruelest cliffhanger I have ever left anyone on ever (I’m soooooorry...! 😅). I swear I tried to carve this down as much as I could, but even so, there was just way too much to talk about for one post. So in Pt 1 of the commentary, I’ll be talking about the Magical Siblings and their Therapy Cat, but Pt 2 is going to be all about Rivan, because I have a lot to say about this Classy Boi.

One significant thing about this chapter is that it is my first time writing Douxie in Distress. There’s not really any moment in the show where Douxie is completely stripped of every last one of his defenses and put into a situation where he has no choice but to rely on others--which is fine! I love me one Badass Wizard Boi. But I did want to explore the concept because it opens up opportunities to expand on Douxie’s character. There is more to it than that, but I can’t say anything more until after Chapter 3 has been posted.

All right, now let’s get into some Passage-Specific notes.

Passage-Specific Notes:

It was a bit like witnessing a long-lost family reunion from the outside, and Douxie felt a strange ache settle in his heart as he followed the tiny forest goddess, who danced from one place to another, wide eyes glowing like sunlit amber.

“...She should have this all the time,” he murmured to Archie, who, after having his own little roll in the grass, had returned to his perch on Douxie’s shoulder. “She shouldn’t be stuck in that prison cell of an apartment.”

This is probably one of my favorite instances of Douxie showing off his Big Brother Energy. He is naturally a very kind-hearted person who believes everyone deserves the freedom to live their best lives (See Ep. 4: “The Lady of the Lake”) but in this scene, he’s not wishing for Nari’s freedom and happiness because of some abstract sense of empathy--Douxie loves Nari, and seeing her happy makes him happy. But he is also bound to his duty as her protector, and that forces him to put aside both her desires and his own in order to keep her safe. He has to balance the line between Responsible Guardian and Loving Brother. I just really enjoyed taking this moment to explore the nature of their relationship, and the impact it has on Douxie, even if it is a somewhat bittersweet scene.

“What do you suppose it would take for Americans to learn how to make a decent cup of tea?” Douxie grumbled, glaring at the disposable coffee cup in his hand as though it had personally offended him. “Seems like any hack street vendor with a pot and a filter can be taught to make a solid enough cup of coffee in this country, but ask them for a simple cup of water with a bag of leaves in it, and somehow no one knows how to do it properly.”

My new favorite game is “How Many Times in a Single Story Can I Not-So-Subtly Remind My Audience That Douxie is Very British?”

“Sweet tea is an abomination and I only let you get one because we’re eating out. But never shall such a detestable liquid be found under my roof.” Nari pulled her cup closer to her in a mock show of defensiveness and giggled.

I really love it when the Magical Siblings get playful like this, especially given all the crap that they’ve seen/been through. Also I did some research on sweet tea just for this line--it is an American beverage, and is made by sweetening a dark tea--such as the kind Douxie always drinks. Hence the reason he views it as an abomination--how dare we filthy Americans tamper with the sacred British liquid (although to be fair, I think he’s playing up his “hatred” for it for the sake of humor. Douxie’s pretty chill about most things).

“I...I think we should go home,” Nari squeaked. “He just....gives me a bad feeling.”

“Alright,” Douxie agreed, rising from his place and lifting Archie up onto his shoulder. He moved around the table and took Nari’s hand as she stood, squeezing it reassuringly when her other hand came up to anxiously grip his sleeve.

It was really important to me that Douxie not brush off Nari’s intensifying anxiety. Maybe she’s being a little unfair here (Rivan can’t help the fact that she can’t sense his life force/aura) but still, she feels unsettled, and Douxie responds to that by removing her from the situation, even though they still don’t have any proof that Rivan is actually following them. Douxie even begins to grow anxious about the situation himself, going so far as to double up on the concealing spell around Nari’s aura. It’s a small moment, but I like to think it displays the level of trust these two have developed over the last few months.

Even at his most desperate, Douxie wasn’t demanding. But he was begging with every ounce of his heart, calling on the bone-deep affection that had always bound these two together.

“...Yes, Hisirdoux,” Archie sighed, and Douxie’s heart ached with a rush of love and gratitude for his Familiar.

This scene was originally drafted as being on the opposite end of the emotional spectrum--Douxie was going to snap and give Archie a direct order--something he knew a Familiar can’t ignore, and it was going to be this gut-wrenching moment of Angst. But I realized very quickly that, after almost a thousand years of flawless teamwork and mutual support, these two are VERY unlikely to have a relationship fumble that intense. Also, it really would’ve just been pointless drama. So instead I leaned into the warmth and comfort of just how close and trusting Douxie and Archie are with one another, to the point that when Douxie begs Archie to do the one thing he doesn’t want to (leave Douxie), Archie acquiesces.

“...N-no. Archie...!” Nari stammered, looking frantically between the two of them. “Douxie, please!”

“Everything’s going to be fine, sweetheart,” Douxie soothed, giving her a gentle nudge forward. “I’ll meet you both back at the apartment later.”

Douxie using “sweetheart” on Nari is actually very significant here. While Douxie is a Pro-Tier Sweet-Talker who absolutely uses pet names on both friend and foe alike, Nari is the one exception to that rule (this is actually the first time in the series that he’s used a pet name on her). Douxie respects Nari in a way that is unique to their relationship. She’s a much-loved part of his family, yes, but she is also eons old, and a demigoddess, and whether consciously or unconsciously, I think Douxie is aware of that for the most part. So the fact that he caves and accidentally calls her Sweetheart here indicates that in this moment, he’s not seeing her as Nari the Ancient Sorceress, but as Nari the Child, Nari the Little Sister--someone who he wants to shield from the harsh reality they’re facing. So he makes her a promise he knows he might not be able to keep. Because sometimes, grown-ups lie in order to protect the children in their care. It’s not right, but in the heat of the moment, it’s all he can think to do.

There was a click and a soft whirring sound, and suddenly the magic in Douxie’s hand was pulled out of his grasp, leaving his fingers cold and empty. The wizard cast a frantic look down at his right arm to see an iron band locked around it, the intricate engravings glowing the same color as his own magic.

Just a short fun fact: The Inhibitor Cuff was actually originally conceived for my 12th Century Siblings AU.

“Spare me the pleasantries,” Douxie interrupted. “I’ll die before I’ll let the Order anywhere near her.”...

...Douxie stared back at Rivan defiantly, his jaw clenched shut, though behind his back, his hands were trembling with dread.

Writing Douxie in Distress like this was...tricky. I’ll talk more about this in pt. 2, but it was really hard to know when Douxie would drop his trademark sass and just be Dead Serious. His interactions with Morgana and the Arcane Order are mostly just him being a cocky little punk, but I also think that might have had something to do with the fact that he was never completely helpless in those situations. Apart from the few seconds he was held down by a corrupted Jim, Douxie always had at least some level of defense in those conflicts. But he has absolutely no power in this situation--his magic has been cancelled out, he’s tied to a chair in an abandoned warehouse miles away from home with no way of contacting his friends for backup, and the only thing standing between the Arcane Order and Nari at this point is his refusal to talk. So he drops the sass and just gets Stubborn. He wants to make it abundantly clear that he knows what Rivan could do to him--and that he doesn’t give a damn. He’s not talking, no matter what.

...Ngl, that’s very sexy of him.

#fanfiction #writing #author's commentary #the magical siblings #and their therapy cat #a shot in the dark

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iknowthekoolaidflavor · 4 years

Text

Only Human

Part 9 of the wizard!au

Tagging: @terrazure @a-hopeless-fan

Thomas was numb.

There was no fight left in him. He knew it would be a mistake to come back, yet he did it anyway and now you were all in danger.

“Thomas”, Lafayette called

There was nothing he could do. The last time he faced his father, Peter nearly killed him.

“Thomas”

“What”, he seethed

“We need a plan”

“I told you. There is no plan. We can’t beat him. You already know what he’s like”

Peter smirked as he stood near the door. He had Thomas right where he wanted him.

Thomas kept quiet for the remainder of the evening.

You were thankful you decided to come home for spring break. It’s been too long since you had a family dinner. Your parents asked you about your classes, campus life, and how you liked being away from home.

“I like being away. Just not all the time”, you mused

“You don’t feel safe on campus. I can see that because you’re only human”, your father continued, “If that’s the case, you should transfer to be with Angelica. Stay far away from here, keep you safe, and you’ll be with a friend I can trust”

“I’m sure that’s the complete opposite of what she wants to do. She goes to a great school. The last thing she wants to do is uproot her entire life just for you when she can be out living her life the way she wants”, you mother interjected

“Sylvia”, he simply stated, giving her a pointed look

“I’m sorry”

You didn’t heed the warning your father sent your mother. She immediately looked away, knowing she overstepped.

“Is that bakery up the street still open?”, you ask

“Yeah. Cherry on Top will never go out of business”

“Can we go tomorrow?”

“Of course”, your mother gave you a warm smile and you couldn’t help but smile back. It felt so good to be back home. Your father grinned at the scene in front of him. It was a dream come true to him when you were both complacent.

The next day, you and your mother were seated at your favorite bakery. She caught you up on everything she could think of. Work, your father, the neighbors and the dog that barks at all hours of the night. You tried your best to keep up.

“If that’s the case, you should transfer to be with Angelica. Stay far away from here, keep you safe, and you’ll be with a friend I can trust” , you remember your father telling you.

Why did he want you to stay away from here? This was home. He wanted to keep you safe. Why was he concerned with you being human?

The thought of moving away was becoming more enticing by the second. You would be safe. You would be with Angelica. Suddenly, there was a pit in the bottom of your stomach. Leaving school meant leaving the rest of your friends behind.

No more Alex and John or Hercules and his boyfriend.

Your fork stopped halfway to your mouth. Hercules has a boyfriend?

You’ve met before. You had classes together.

The more you tried to remember him, the more it felt like your skull was on fire. The pain started at each of your temples as a dull throb, then it started to spread. The fork fell out your hand as you put your head down.

It was like an itch you couldn’t help but scratch. Something was telling you to let it go, so the pain could stop, but your curiosity wouldn’t let you.

“(Y/N)? Baby what’s wrong?”, your mother said, voice laced with worry

“Nothing”, you groaned, “Just a headache”

“How have you really enjoyed being on campus”, she said as she gave you a pointed look

“I don’t mind being on campus. I miss being home though”

Sylvia’s smile began to fade. Something was off. You hated that your father chose to send you so far away, but you also loved the idea of no longer being under his control. Sylvia wanted that for you too. She wanted that for the both of you.

“How has it been with you and your bodyguard?”, your mother asked

Bodyguard? You would have remembered having someone following you around school. In your confusion you knew something about that statement felt familiar.

As the throbbing increased in intensity, all you could think about was that first week of school. Seabury followed you around campus. He tried to grab you and was almost lit on fire.

“What is that young man’s name? I know it was your father’s idea”

All you could see was his curls and cocky grin as you experienced a skull splitting headache. You wanted to scream.

Your heart pulled at the familiarity of your friend’s grin. You could feel the joy from when you finally finished putting his favorite jacket back together because you knew it would make him smile. He was the friend that you swore to protect, even though it was his job to keep you safe and he was no where to be found.

You looked around the room as if you expected him to appear out of thin air.

“Thomas”, you managed to get out, “His name is Thomas”

Lafayette and Thomas disappeared the moment you stepped out of the station. You forgot about them the moment you stepped foot into your home.

“You said dad hired him?”

“Yes”, Sylvia stated, “Your father was more than willing to hire him. Peter was a bit skeptical”

“What else do you now about dad and Peter’s relationship?”

Across town at the Jefferson residence, Peter opened the door to the basement with a malicious grin. It’s only been two days and Thomas had already given up.

Thomas fell into an uneasy slumber. It was all he could do, given there was not chance of escaping.

Thomas was in the garden. He had a rare chance to break away from his father. Ever since he sent away his mother and his siblings, the only person he has left is James.

“Thomas”, James called as he reached the gate

A smile broke out on his face. Jemmy was the light at the end of the tunnel. The quicker he finished his training, the quicker he could break away from Peter, venture out on his own, and take Jemmy with him...only if he wanted to.

When Thomas reached the gate, the handle disappeared. His heart began to race. The bright summer day began to fade as the clouds rolled in.

The moment his hand touched the metal, his skin began to burn, but it didn’t stop him from grabbing the gate again and again.

‘This isn’t normal. This isn’t normal’, Thomas thought frantically

"Thomas”, James said calmly, “Why did you do this to me?”

“What?”

Thomas finally looked up at his friend who was beginning to fade away.

“Why did you do this to me”, he screamed

“No. Jemmy I didn--”

“Liar. This is all your fault”

“I--”

“This is all your fault isn’t it?”

Thomas dropped to his knees, tears flowing down his cheeks. Peter warned him. He told him he would go after James if he didn’t obey him. Deep down Thomas knew who to blame.

“This is all my fault. This is all my fault”, Thomas repeated like a mantra

James smirked at him as he faded away completely.

“Just listen to your father. He knows what’s best”

Thomas jumped as he finally woke up, cheeks still soaked from the tears. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. He was worn out.

“The punk is finally awake”, Peter groaned

“Don’t call him that”, Lafayette yelled

With a wave of his hand, Lafayette’s lungs couldn’t pull in any air. He writhed against the chains as he tried to breathe. Thomas didn’t say a word. When Peter felt satisfied, he snapped his fingers and Lafayette could breathe again.

“What do you want from us?”

“You two are going to help me kill (Y/N)”

“No. There’s no chance in hell”, Lafayette started

Lafayette stopped shouting obscenities and cursing Peter’s name as he looked to Thomas. The same Thomas that wanted to take Peter down was no longer present. His friend was not the same.

Thomas managed to get out one sentence. With a broken voice, barely holding back his sobs, he said, “Just listen to him. He knows what’s best”

#thomas jefferson #college au #wizard!thomas #thomas jefferson drabble #thomas x reader #thomas jefferson x reader #supernatural au #thomas needs a hug #peter needs to be pushed off a bridge

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ilovemygaydad · 6 years

Text

part 5/? of punk!patton gets adopted by single parent logan

part one - part two - part three - part four - ao3 version - masterlist (includes asks and art!)

pairings: moxiety, eventual logince, background pining remceit, mentions of past thomas/female oc

warnings--these are very important this chapter: food mentions, stress, anxiety, kissing, flirting, divorce mentions, making out, mentions of murder (i’ll mark it out), attempted murder, guns, gunshots, gun wounds, head trauma, homophobic parents mention, homophobia, there’s so much swearing i am so sorry, maybe something else

a/n: no joke i’ve had this planned out since before the last part came out, but i literally just couldn’t write it all at once, and i’ve been having a really emotionally weird week. next chapter should start out pretty funny. idk. please enjoy this.

a/n 2: sorry that this took so long to get out. i don’t think it’s that great, but... yeah. whatever.

it’s friday night babey which means that it’s dinner time with the sanders, and logan and patton are freaking out

logan has been cooking/prepping food for the past day, and he immediately started finishing up as soon as he got home from work

patton, on the other hand, was feverishly cleaning the entire house

it isn’t even messy, but he’s worried that virgil and/or roman are going to be upset

(which they aren’t????? but whatever)

and patton even cleaned himself up! he tried (and failed) to tame his wild curls into some sort of neat anything, and he wore his nicest pair of black jeans and a black sweater with floral designs that he’d bought at the mall with virgil a while back

it was a little out of his comfort zone, but virgil insisted that he get it because it looks very good on him

and, god damn it, you can’t say no to virgil’s puppy eyes

the doorbell rang just before five, and logan ran out of the kitchen to get it

patton literally vaulted over the couch, skidding to the door just behind logan

virgil is like

literally the cutest person on the planet

he’s wearing a white lace dress that has a flowy skirt, and he’s got a white flower crown on, and he looks like an angel

during the time that patton’s being a gay disaster, virgil holds out a bouquet of blue flowers and says, “dad made me get them for you”

patton smiles gently and takes them, pulling virgil in for a quick kiss before leading him inside

roman has, like, eight giant tupperware containers full of cookies and brownies and stuff in his arms, and logan’s like

what???? the fuck?????

“you didn’t need to bring desserts, roman. i have ice cream...”

and roman gives this cocky smile and says “my best friend, emi, loves to bake for us, but he doesn’t really know how to limit himself, so we have tons of baked goods lying around that we can’t eat. not to mention that i can’t keep up this fabulous figure if i only eat sweets!” wink wonk

and logan can feel his face heating up after that wink, but he pretends that it’s just the heat from inside

roman really does have a good figure...

logan chooses to not respond to roman, instead saying, “let’s go inside so you can put those containers down”

they turn to go, and they catch a glimpse of patton and virgil from down the hall

the kids are sitting on the couch, laughing and talking and exchanging the occasional kiss

the adults watch for a second because aw, but quickly move on to the kitchen

“you can set the containers down on the counter over there. i made a a couple of different things for dinner just in case you two didn’t like something that i made, so there’s spaghetti, pizza, and hamburgers. everything is absolutely gluten-free; i know because i triple checked with a list online and bought new utensils to reduce contamination. you’re free to have as much or as little as you like--i won’t be offended either way.”

roman kind of freezes because holy shit that’s so thoughtful and kind

“that’s... logan, that’s too much. you didn’t have to do all that for virgil.”

“what are you talking about? it’s only common courtesy to assure that your guest is able to eat without getting sick, especially when they have a disease that can cause irreparable damage to their body.”

“yeah, but a lot of people don’t care enough to ask or remember, so virgil often has to find something else to eat last minute... i brought an extra dinner just in case, which is very unfair to your person, but virgil has suffered too much for me to not be careful.”

“that’s...” logan starts, trying to express what he feels. “that’s just shitty.”

roman smiles and laughs a bit, replying, “yeah, it is, but at least you aren’t, you know, shitty”

and they have this little moment where they smile at each other, and both of them are like wow this man is... good looking but they snap out of it because

dumb gays

everyone in this au is a dumb gay

including yours truly but that is noT important

logan’s like “hey we should get the kids for dinner” and roman obvi agrees

but when they go to get them, they see the kiddos being all adorable and gay and logan turns to roman with this very serious expression like

we must spy on them. this is the cutest shit i’ve ever seen.

so they shuffle over to the edge of the doorway, just out of sight, and logan peeks his head in every now and then for visuals, and he’s repeating what he hears so that roman can understand what’s happening

logan’s in the middle of telling roman something when

dun dun dunnnn

a voice suddenly appears from behind them like

(the voice is virgil)

“what... are you two doing...?”

fucking busted

logan is like

aHa i can lie to these children!

and he says, “we were talking about work--”

but patton just cuts him off with this deadpan look and “you two are horrible liars”

cut to: roman gasping in offense that this emo nightmare of a child just called him a liar when he didn’t even say anything

so he says, “i didn’t even say anything”

patton, being... well, being the asshole that he is, says, “my point still stands”

roman splutters for a while longer, trying to look at virgil and logan for help, but virgil just shrugs and walks with patton to the table, and logan is still very embarrassed about getting caught

it takes a few seconds, but both adults recuperate and move on to what’s important

which is, obviously, dinner

logan walks virgil through what’s available and offers to cook something else if he isn’t feeling particularly happy with anything

virgil damn near cries at how nice logan is

dinner gets served, and they all start eating the (delicious--who would guess that calculator watch knew how to cook something that tasted like it was served in a fancy restaurant) food

after a few minutes of idle chatter and slight pda between the kids, logan offhandedly comments, “you know, i am extremely happy for the both of you that you didn’t cycle through numerous girlfriends before finding out that you’re queer like many of us do.”

and everyone at the table freezes because

logan’s gay????

“hold up,” roman says with a shocked expression. “you’re gay?”

and virgil sighs and shakes his head because “dad, you’re an idiot. he literally has a pride phone case, and there are multiple pictures of him at pride around the house--including one right behind you.”

he also elbows patton when the punk mutters out a very soft “what the fuck”

“i applaud your observational skills--”

“i assume neither of you knew that he was jewish, either”

and now it’s logan’s turn to be surprised because... who the hell is this kid

“you have a dreidel on the mantle that i assumed you forgot to put away after Hanukkah last year.” everyone stared at him. “oh, i’m sorry that i’m not as much of a dumb gay as my father.”

cue roman getting offended again

“excuse you! the role of ‘dumb gay’ is exclusively reserved for thomas f. sanders!”

poor patton hasn’t stopped being confused this whole time, but roman luckily jumps right back into his explanation

“my twin brother, thomas, didn’t realize that he was gay until he had been with a woman for six years and had a child with her. they amicably parted ways because, like him, she was also gay. i am not nearly as stupid as my brother, and i take great offense to virgil calling me a ‘dumb gay!’” he said matter-of-factly

virgil opens his mouth to say something, but roman cuts him off with a swift “if you so much as think about saying what you’re going to say, i will throw you into the ocean without a moment’s hesitation.” roman then very calmly turns to patton and says sweetly, “so, only good child at this table, tell me a bit about yourself so that i know what my devil child is getting himself into.”

unbeknownst to roman, virgil mutters “dumb gay,” under his breath, causing logan to crack a smile across the table

patton shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “my birthday is february nineteenth, my favorite color is blue, and i’m homoromantic asexual.”

roman waited for patton to say more, but the teen averted his gaze back on his food and took another bite

logan decided to pick up the slack after the few seconds of awkward silence “what about you, virgil?”

unlike patton’s less than enthusiastic reply, virgil perked up at the chance to speak

“oh, well, my birthday is june second, and i really like purple! i’m pretty sure that i’m pan, but i have a preference for guys. oooh! and i really want to be an elementary school teacher.”

that made logan perk up. “really? i currently teach first graders across town.”

“no way!” virgil gasped. “that’s awesome! i love little kids so much. they’ve got so much energy.”

“and their intelligence is unrivaled!”

“yes!”

roman and patton watched as the two excitedly conversed about kids and teaching

patton admired virgil’s enthusiasm, and was happy that he was getting along with logan.

and virgil looked really cute with his happy smile and the little glimmer in his eyes

patton may or may not have zoned out in favor of staring at his beautiful boyfriend

roman couldn’t really tell what logan and virgil were talking about (they were speaking far too quickly for him to follow), but he admired how excited logan looked when he was speaking

oh no

roman was falling for logan

time to not follow his own advice and pretend that his feelings don’t exist

after another half hour or so of chatting, the adults and kids split ways for a while

patton and virgil went up to patton’s room, and logan and roman stayed in the living room

the boys settled together at the end of patton’s bed, holding hands and leaning on each other

“you look paw-sitively purrfect, virgil” patton giggled

“is... are you saying that because i have cat-eye eyeliner on?”

“...maybe”

virgil smiled and pulled patton in for a kiss

they kissed for a little, but patton eventually pulled away

he looked worried, and he fidgeted with his hands as he said, “do you think that your dad likes me?”

“well...” virgil started. “he didn’t like you for a long time. after the first day of school, he kind of held a grudge on you.” patton winced, but he didn’t get the opportunity to say anything. “i think he’s forgiven you now.”

“really?”

“i promise. he just wanted to protect me because he’s my dad, but i think he’s realized that you’re not actively trying to hurt me, and you’re just a bit dumb at times”

“hEY”

virgil smiled and nudged patton “you know i love you”

“hnnnnnn i love you too”

“heLL YEAH!”

meaNwhiLE downstairs

logan led roman into the the living room and roman was

stunned

because logan had at least a thousand books meticulously organized around the room

“how many books do you have in here...?” roman asked, running his hand over an entire collection of encyclopedias

“about one thousand two hundred on the shelves, but i have some children’s books in those baskets at the bottom as well as the books that are starting to fall apart like my copy of hamlet”

“how did you even get so many books? i’ve been collecting novels my whole life, and i only have a few bookshelves full”

“my mom is a librarian, and whenever they would get newer copies of books or get rid of unwanted books, she’d give them to me. i’ve bought a fair few of these myself, but there are only so many that i can buy on a teacher’s salary”

and roman’s like

????? hot

and logan keeps rambling on about books, and roman’s just having a gay crisis but it’s fine

but then logan looks at roman expectantly, and roman hadn’t exactly been paying enough attention to read logan’s lips, so he played the “can you repeat yourself? i didn’t catch it” card

“sorry. i asked how you came to adopt virgil”

and roman obviously is like hey how about we spill a lot of sad life things with this almost stranger because he’s cute

~this is where the murder is mentioned~

“his mom was my best friend in high school. although we went our separate ways for college, she stayed supportive of me after i came out. she was... the only one from my old life who would even think to talk to me. even thomas hesitated to talk to me for fear of crossing our parents and their ridiculously catholic ideas.” roman sighed. “eventually, though, she got mixed up in some bad stuff, and she got with this drug addict who got her pregnant with virgil. when virgil was about a year old, the guy thought that my friend was cheating on him, and he shot her. the shot, luckily, didn’t kill her right away, and she was able to push him into the corner of a table and kill him before he could get to virgil. she called the police, but she died before they could get there. as soon as i found out, I went and started the adoption process. i had only been a year out of college at that point.”

~end of the murder mention~

logan was stunned. “that is... horrible, roman. i am so sorry for your loss.”

“it’s alright,” roman said with a shrug. “it was over a decade ago, and it led to me getting the best thing in my life. the circumstances were shit, but virgil has made me a better person, and i wouldn’t know what i’d do without him keeping my head on gay.”

“you mean straight...?”

“nothing about me is straight, logan. don’t be absurd”

eventually, it’s time for roman and virgil to leave

virgil and patton walk out to the car and leave the adults at the door because they wanna kiss each other goodbye without being spied on

on their way to the car, virgil whispers “how much do you want to bet that they’ll be flirting with each other by the time we leave”

“ten dollars. i mean, didn’t you see how your dad looked at logan? it was gross!”

meanwhile, at the door...

roman leans back on the doorframe and smiles. “this was a nice night, logan. virgil definitely had a lot of fun”

“that’s great; i’m glad”

“here--give me your phone. i’ll put my number in, and we can get together some other time to get to know each other better”

logan obliged, and roman sent himself a text using logan’s phone and set his contact name as “prince of your dreams”

they chatted for a minute or so longer, just to give the boys enough time to say their goodbyes, before parting ways

logan didn’t spend the rest of the night texting roman

don’t be ridiculous

to be continued

asks are loved and encouraged, and make sure to check out the amazing art people have made on the masterlist! 💖💖💖

tag list: @residentanchor @eeveeawesome @xionical@absolutesandersidestrash @stormcrawler75 @musikasworld @ironwoman359@a-weirdo-with-a-computer @thegaypotatoroyalty707 @darkrainbow333@ravenclawunicorn1 @noahlovescoffee @whymustibedraggedintofandomhell@romansleftshoulderpad @still-waiting-for-cookies @emounicorn2006 @lana–22 @angels-ofthe-sea @demonickittykat @lonelysoul43 @the-virgil-mary @five-second-cookies @noisywolfbatbakery @band-be-boss-blog @heck-im-lost@lamp-calm-sanders @patton-e @knightofbloodcancer @cloudchaser7@really-sleep-deprived-nerd @era-eclipsed @khadij-al-kubra @anxiousmorality@are-you-really-sure-about-that @today-only-happens-once@notalwaysthevillian @backatthebein @sunshineandteddybears @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn @dodos-in-damnation@some-lost-meme-boi @dead4sevenyears @spookyingarbageisland @the-poison-apple-of-art@radioactivehelena @the-melody-of-eliza @im-a-mess-aaaaaa @whycantihavemorethan32characters @broadwaytheanimatedseries@veryvirginvirgil @llamaavocado @unisaurioamorfo @caterpiller-tea@cornycornfriendo @simon-at-3am @calico-kiri

#sanders sides #moxiety #logince #m writes things #remceit #ts deceit #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #punk!patton au

288 notes · View notes

bangtanfancamp · 6 years

Text

the Devil wears Gucci- Part 2

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Masterlist

▪︎series Masterlist

▪︎Kim Taehyung x reader, feat. Kim Namjoon

▪︎2.2k words

▪︎Enemies to lovers au, fashion industry au, f*ckboy au, fluff, romance, slight angst

As the dedicated personal assistant of the genius mind behind House of RM, the empire that rules the fashion industry, your world is turned upside down the day Namjoon personally asks you to train his newest hire- the eternally insufferable Kim Taehyung.

(photo credit to vantaeholic)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Taehyung seemed determined to make this situation as difficult as possible.

You figured the easiest way to start the day off was to give him a tour of the building. If he was going to assist you, he at least needed to know where everything was, right? There were so many moving parts to the company - the pace was so fast. No sense letting him get lost in the mailroom basement when he was supposed to be pulling fabric samples on floor 13. At the very least, it was a solid excuse to stall while you tried to come up with a plan for what to do with him because, God, this boy was on such a hormone kick.

You had barely gotten him out of Namjoon’s office before you caught him making shameless eye contact with the new girl Mina whose desk was across the freaking room. The poor girl was blushing so furiously that she was clashing with the bright magenta of her sweater. She’d definitely be a mess for at least the next two days over it.

“All right mister...kim, was it?” You asked, feigning ignorance because his ego seemed big enough all ready.

“All ready forgotten my name ? I didn’t know I’d gotten you that worked up all ready, Princess. It’s Taehyung, but you can call me Tae,” The cockiness smeared across his face repulsed you. Invading your space, he dipped down to whisper ...“unless there’s something else you’d rather be calling me.”

A shameless wink and a flash of teeth later, a shiver rolled down your spine for all the wrong reasons. Ugh, he was gross. You could practically feel the face he was making without even having to look. “I think I’ll just stick to your first name, thanks. Nicknames aren’t really office appropriate.”

“Suit yourself, Jagi.” He smirked.

God, as a matter of fact, nothing about taehyung was “office appropriate.” You kept trying to figure out why he was even here. He had impeccable taste in fashion, that was for sure, but nothing about him made you think it was his idea to work here. He’d been spaced out for most of the tour or checking the phone hidden in the snug front pocket of his ridiculously tight pants.

Cautiously, you risked a glance over at him, trying to assess what his story was. Tae didn’t walk, he glided across the floor - led by his cocky chin and his confident hips. He kept one hand tucked in his pocket as the other rested against his shoulder letting his blazer swing off his fingertips. He’d flirted shamelessly with every woman in the building thus far, including you, and couldn’t seem to keep his tongue inside his mouth. It was always resting right on the edge of his teeth of the corner of his smug lips framed by his insufferable right eyebrow arching high as he surveyed each woman’s reaction to him. God, if he laid it on any thicker you might actually gag. You’d never actually rolled your eyes this many times in one day before. You wondered if that potentially cause any long term damage as you forged ahead, debriefing Taehyung on the history of the company.

“House of RM is a force. This company began as a small clothing line that Namjoon started himself at 17, but now has diversified into so many areas that it is not only at the top of the fashion industry but is also one of the 500 wealthiest companies on the planet. But aside from that, it is also driven by its charitable work. Just last year alone we- hey, are you listening?” You’d noticed as you walked down a hallway lined with floor to ceiling windows that you seemed to have lost his attention- again.

Mother of god, this idiot was fixing his hair in the window.

“Any day now, Taehyung. We have other things to do today.”

“Are you on that list?” The reflection of his eyes darted to meet yours as your patience curdled like hot milk. Are there really women that line would work on? You grimaced.

Ignoring his statement, you pressed on. “I’d like to finish this tour before we both get grey hair, Taehyung.” You sighed, one hand fixed on your waist, weight sinking into one hip. You resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose. You felt a headache coming on.

Adjusting the swoop of his bangs across his forehead, He chuckled to himself and you weren't sure why. You hadn’t said anything funny.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about trying it actually,” he mused.

“Trying what?”

“Grey hair. Silver, really. I think it’ll really bring out my eyes.”

Dumbfounded at how easily he made everything about himself, you ignored his statement.

“ANYWAY,....you know what. Here. I honestly don’t think you care at all. About anything I’m saying. I don’t even know why your here. So how bout you tell me, hm? Why are looking for a job at house of RM? Let’s get this over with So we can go eat lunch and get a half hour away from each other.” You mumbled the last part under your breath. Or so you thought.

“Aww, you don’t want to eat lunch with me, Jagi? I’m hurt.” he reached forward to pinch your cheek and you swatted his hand away.

“Don’t call me that.” There was that name again. You frowned.

“And only 30 minutes? Aren’t corporate jobs supposed to give you an hour at least?”

“Not to you they don’t. That’s specifically for lunch meetings with clientele and business lunches. Not” poking him in his regrettably firm chest for emphasis, “for the coffee boy.” You turned on your heel and began to saunter away, leaving narcissus to entertain himself.

“Hey! Wait up” he yelped when he noticed how far down the hallway you’d gotten without him. He jogged behind you, trying to catch up. Which didn’t take very long thanks to the stride of his long legs. Sigh. There went your 10 seconds of solitude. “Seriously! wait up.” He leaned a palm on your shoulder once he finally reached you and placed his other hand on his hip while he caught his breath. “Fine. You want a real answer? fine.”

You arched a brow at him curiously, waiting to see how he’d BS his way through this one.

“My uncle okay? He hasn’t exactly been... on board with my “life choices” as of late,” his fingers made quotations in the air. “He Thinks working for someone like Namjoon’ll help get me my shit together. Grow up, be a man, all that. But, I Figure if I’ve got to be here, then I might as well enjoy myself, right?” He shrugged, but there was thinly veiled animosity in his eyes that hadn’t been there all day.

“So he’s trying to scare you straight with a job at a fashion company?” You asked incredulously, arms crossing protectively over your chest.

Taehyung shrugged. “Eh, I think it’s less about what he sells, and more about the how he runs his business. Why let your nephew be a struggling artist when he could be the next self made millionaire before he’s 30?” He snorted at this. Like he’d had to sit through this conversation way more times than he would like.

“Well…. he’s right. Anyone would be lucky to work with a genius like Namjoon. Maybe some of his work ethic will rub off on you,” you said, snappier than you’d meant to. There was no point going soft on him because of some pseudo sob story. Nobody wanted to have to work for a living, and you weren’t about to let him trick you into giving him an easier time. But apparently, this was the wrong thing to say. You’d hit a nerve.

“Geeze, so how long have you been fucking the boss?” He quipped, his tone steely.

You almost choked on your own spit. “EXCUSE ME??”

“Anyone would be lucky to work with a genius like Kim Namjoon. CLEARLY, the man’s either been in your panties or you want him to be. Facts are facts, sweetheart.” He shrugged and walked ahead of you, smug smile growing wider by the second, as you stood there struggling to remember how to speak.

“How d-dare you!” You stumbled. “He is a-a great man and an excellent leader and I-“

“I just want him to finally notice me and let me call him daddy. Yes, daddy Namjoon, I’d be glad to take care of that for you as long as you take care of me first,” Taehyung jeered as a blush so sinisterly scarlet bloomed across your face you swore you must be dying. Finally breaking free from your shock, you marched toward him and spun him around by the shoulder.

“Listen to me, you horrible little brat, If you EVER speak like that to me again...,” the laughter in his irises only fueled your fury as you clutched his dress shirt in your first.

“Calm down, Princess. I saw the way you looked at him.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. One far too sultry for your liking. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”

Winking, he removed your hand from his shirt and smoothed over the wrinkles your aggression had created. “And I mean, really, if anyone should be upset here, it’s me. You’re cheating on me all ready with all those naughty lustful thoughts about our boss. Tsk, tsk. I’m hurt,____. Am I all ready not enough for you?” He feigned being wounded and you could already feel vomit coming up the back of your throat.

“You… are disgusting. People worked HARD To be here. To earn a place in this company. You’ve been given an amazing opportunity, and you just want to throw it all away because ‘oh my uncle is making me work?” well guess what? Welcome to the real world!! That’s what adults do! I, for one, worked my butt off to be here- and I don’t need a lazy little scumball punk like you telling me who I am or why I’m here. So Screw you, Kim Taehyung. I’m just trying to do my job. Good luck figuring out yours on your own. I’m done.” Chest heaving, you stared him down.

This idiot would not be the reason you lost the best paying job you’d ever had. And you’d be damned if you were going to stand here and take his behavior lying down. Gritting your teeth, you turned toward the elevators, fully intending to leave his lazy behind in the hallway, when suddenly you felt a feather light touch on your back.

“Hey, it was just supposed to be a joke.” You could hear the smile in his voice faltering even though he tried to chuckle. “Don’t take everything so seriously.”

“Well next time, try to actually be funny then. Cuz that was just a horrible thing to say.” You shook your head, refusing to look back at him.

“Duly noted. Didn’t know you’d be so sensitive.” His words were careless- they should have made you angrier- but without the distraction of his face, you could actually here something that sounded almost like remorse in his voice. “Won’t, uh… won’t happen again, boss lady.”

The elevator opened and you stepped inside, but blocked his path when he tried to follow you. “What are…?”

“Ah, Not today, Kim. I’m eating lunch alone. If you were paying any attention at all to me earlier, then you’ll find the cafe on your own just fine. Meet me in the lobby in 30 minutes for the rest of your training. But I don’t want to see you even a second before then.”

He looked dumbfounded.

You kept a stern demeanor about you until the doors closed. Even once you made it back to your desk to grab the lunch that you’d packed, you kept your composure. Even when Mina stopped by your desk to talk to you about the dreamy new guy.

It wasn’t until you excused yourself to go to the private bathroom that you finally felt yourself begin to crack. You quickly locked the door and leaned against it. It was the only thing holding you up. His words played over and over in your head, and your eyes started to glaze over until slowly, even teardrops began to trickle down your face and splatter onto your cream silk blouse. Crumpling into a ball against the door, you let every last one of them fall.

You hated Taehyung. You hated him for his arrogance, for his refusal to care about anything important, for the careless words he’d thrown at your heart, but most of all for the fact that he’d been able to see right through you...

You did have feelings for Namjoon. Feelings you knew would never go anywhere. Feelings you thought were harmless- private. But if taehyung had been able to pick up on them in his first five minutes in the building, then how long had you been making a fool of yourself in front of the entire staff? In front of Namjoon? God, you were pathetic. How many people knew? How long had this been going around this office? How many of the smiles people had given you were actually them laughing at you? You felt like a joke.

And so you cried.

You cried because you were tired of holding it all together. You cried because you were tired of always trying so hard to be the perfect employee- dressing the part, looking the part, performing the part- and still having to deal with people like Kim Taehyung.

But this was you. You could do this. You were better than this. Rising from the floor, you went to the mirror to clean yourself up. You looked yourself in the eye and drew a deep breath. Splashing some cold water on your face, you made a promise to yourself. Taehyung wouldn’t win this. Whether he kept his job here or not, you wouldn’t let him drive you insane. You would survive this.

No matter how long it took.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

read part 3 here!

Series masterlist

I did it! Part 2 is LIVE!!! Thank you guys so much for your feedback and interest. Im not sure how many posts this is going to become, but I’m all ready pretty far down the rabbit hole with this one and I promise you will love where it’s going. Thanks for popping by! ✨

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fell-in-love-didnt-you · 6 years

Text

Big Bang Fic: SnowBaz

The links to corresponding art:

http://thejanewestin.tumblr.com/post/183415594132/for-fell-in-love-didnt-you

http://thejanewestin.tumblr.com/post/183397541987/for-a-yet-unposted-au-thank-you

Even though my original artist flaked on me, I had the wonderful experience of working with Jane Westin, and she saved this fic from a lot of disasters, misspellings, and Barcelona altogether. (Long story, no time for that now). I hope you enjoy it!

The bus lurched underneath Baz’s feet, and he hastily tried to grasp his hot tea before it spilled over him. However, the scolding liquid made its way out of the cup and onto his hand. Baz shouted a curse and went to run his hand under water before he realized they’re not hooked up to water anymore.

Great fucking start to the day.

The weather was horrible outside of London, and Baz wished they’d just decided to skip over this leg of the tour. He knows it’s horrible; hell, they originated in London! Baz was eternally grateful for the first pub manager that ever allowed them to take setup in the corner of the grimy room, and the band even sent him three tickets with backstage passes for free. Baz just wished that the pub had been six-hundred kilometers to the north.

The bus rolled again, and Baz caught himself on the counter.

“You gotta be a little less clumsy,” Dev called from his bunk. Baz turned to see the blue velvet curtain swing back to reveal the cocky bastard’s grin. “If you fall off the stage or some shit, you, and the band by extension, will turn into the Iggy Azalea of music.”

Niall’s curtain rolled back next. “I thought Iggy Azalea was the Iggy Azalea of music.” Then the conversation warped into one of Dev saying Iggy Azalea is just another Jenner and Niall saying she was a goddess, and Baz really had had enough of tour talk.

He stalked back to the large bedroom. He slept in it because of his back, and Dev, Niall, and Agatha took up the bunks. Baz really would’ve thought Agatha would have feel more comfortable with a bedroom, but she had insisted it would be fine. It’s not like she wasn’t best friends with the both of them anyway.

Baz shut the door and jumped onto the bed. It was definitely not as good as the one in his flat, but the other guys didn’t have permanent places in London and fans were fucking crazy. If they even had an inkling of where his flat was, he’d have to basically move country.

Anyway, the bed was fine, and there were no windows in here, so the room was dark enough for sleep at any time of morning, afternoon, or night. It even had a little bathroom (possibly worse than the one outside the door) in the corner. This was definitely one of the best buses Baz has been on in a long time. The one in America just constantly smelled of takeout, though they could be to blame for that. The tour bus in the Netherlands was great comfort-wise, but it barely fit the four band members and the driver. They had to rent a second and third for management. Usually, it was just two ugly black buses following each other on the road, and in the Netherlands with their tiny roads and winding streets, it was not a good situation.

Being back in London should have made him happy. It was all familiar: stop-and-go traffic, car horns, and brightly lit streets with crappy Chinese takeout around every corner. Hell, even the smell was just as he remembered: gas with a hint of roadkill. However, the whole thing was making Baz’s stomach flip. People at the concert tonight would probably be people he’s grown up with. The one thing no one told him about being pretty well-known is how often you’d need to change your mobile number. Last week someone who picked on him at primary school hit him up for free tickets, and one blocked number later, Baz was feeling apprehensive about the whole thing.

Being home shouldn’t worry him. Baz’s dad was taking care of everything: the food deliveries to the truck, the insane amount of alcohol for the after-party, and the bouncer for that. London was going to be their biggest concert of the entire tour. A hometown concert with a free shirt at the door because that’s how much surplus money they’d made on those damn tickets.

Baz rolled over and placed his head into the pillow. Damn, this was going to be a long day.

…

“I just don’t understand why I’ve got to go with you,” Penny yelled from her room. Simon was crouched in front of the television, trying to figure out which cable he’d ripped out hooked up the telly to the box beneath it. “I mean,” she continued, “they make nice music and everything, and those tickets rock, but why doesn’t your dad take his weird girlfriend?”

“Ebb is not weird,” Simon retorted, placing a red wire with a circular end into a square hole. “She’s cool. And my dad and Ebb don’t enjoy that type of music. And the tickets were free!” Simon finally gave up on the damned box and slouched back into the sofa. “We can’t not use them!”

Penny exited her room with her work uniform on and a bag with her clothes for the concert over her shoulder. “I get that, but Micah doesn’t even like Wavering Wood. He says they make his ears hurt.”

Simon chuckled at that. Of course Micah didn’t like them. The most punk-rock he got was listening to the new Taylor Swift album or maybe some EDM chick who was famous online.

“He doesn’t have to come,” Simon supplied. Penny gave him a stare that basically said, ‘If I’m suffering, he is, too.’ Simon raised his hands in mock surrender and added, “Maybe he’ll enjoy himself. We’ll be backstage for the first part, and if he wants to stay there, he can. They have better seating there than in the front anyways.”

Penny smiled her uniquely Penny smile and pulled her fluffy hair back into a bun. It uncovered the record shop’s logo. Watford Magic. It was a weird little shop that sold, among other things, amethyst crystals, juul pods, tie-dyed shirts, and love spells.

“I’ll see you at seven outside the stadium,” she replied, opening the door and shouting a goodbye before it closed behind her. Simon genuinely hoped she would enjoy herself tonight.

…

Honestly, Baz would have boycotted his own band’s concert of he could have.

The set up and sound test had made him want to cut his own ears off. He was strictly prohibited from having a smoke break or having a drink to lighten his spirits before the show. Dev and Niall were beginning to ruin each other’s spirits with their antics, and Agatha just sat through the whole thing with a blank expression. The only thing that had gone right was the concession stands; Baz had bought something from at least ten of them.

Agatha came up and rested her hand on his shoulders about an hour before they had to go under the stadium and get ready. “Just think of this as one step closer to a six-month break.”

Six-month break? Yeah, right, Baz thought. It was never a break when you had to get everything in line to go global again. Six months of more practicing, more restringing his guitar, and more learning new songs to cover so they wouldn’t play the same set every night.

But he didn’t say that. Baz just said, “Yeah,” with a fake smile and a nod. Agatha got up to go back to tapping her symbols. Dev and Niall had calmed down and were now playing with their respective instruments: a keyboard and a bass. Maybe Baz really was just being a downer here. He knew it was the place and not his bandmates, but they were so easy to point blame at sometimes. He really had to work on that.

As Baz walked by the boys to pick up his acoustic and tune it, he heard Dev say, “There’s gonna be a major storm tonight. Hope it doesn’t blow out the hotel’s cable.”

Baz rolled his eyes and laughed silently.

…

Simon’s feet fucking ached. Converse were not a great option for standing in line waiting for VIP tickets to be checked. Honestly, he should have assumed security would be longer and more extensive here. Why wouldn’t it be? People getting too friendly with a celeb and then stalking them for the rest of their lives? It was more common than it should’ve been.

He and Penny stuck out like sore thumbs. Everyone surrounding them was covered head-to-toe in black leather and ink. Simon had been pointedly staring at a skull tattooed on the back of someone’s head for a long time until Penny had said it was rude, to which Simon replied, “He can’t see me; he doesn’t have eyes.”

Penny’s non-dyed hair was a dead giveaway that they didn’t belong. Micah was in a blazer and had his scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. Hell, he looked so nerdy that Simon felt the need to ask the quadratic formula. Simon’s acid-washed jeans and graphic-tee was the closest thing to Wavering Wood concert-goer any of them had reached.

The bouncer at the door looked them up and down and frowned. Yeah, they were out of place. The guy scanned the tickets that Simon had nearly destroyed in his pocket and instructed them to the left of the red rope, where no one else had been told to go. Every eyelinered and tattooed person on the right of the rope looked at them with a mix of shock and anger. Okay, so what? Maybe they had better tickets? Maybe their tickets weren’t available to the general public.

Simon pulled out his phone and read over what his dad had told him to say. Thank you and we’re so happy you’re here and blah, blah, blah… Geez, you let one band play in the back of your pub and suddenly they’re the Queen or something. Another bouncer greeted them, and they were let through another door. Man, it was really starting to feel like meeting the damn Queen.

As the door opened, Penny and Micah slid in front of Simon to meet the first few members. Penny had looked up all their names, and Simon was instructed to follow along, play nice, and then eat all the snacks from the corner while no one was looking. Okay, maybe Penny didn’t know about that last part, but it should’ve been assumed.

A girl with strikingly blonde hair dressed in a deep maroon dress stood from the couch. Two other boys followed. Simon recognized them as the drums, bass, and piano player for the band. Where was this main guy his dad wanted him to talk to?

“We’re very glad the tickets got through, but we were expecting a Mr. Snow?” the girl asked. What was her name? Penny had said it before. Abagail…Anna…Apple?

“Oh,” Penny said quickly, moving to the side to show Simon, “this is his son. He couldn’t make it tonight but wanted us to come and thank you for him.”

The girl seemed to look Simon over with a more careful eye than the security guard did before she said, “Well, we’re glad the tickets reached someone.” She extended her right hand. “I’m Agatha.”

There it was, Simon thought as he shook her hand. The other boys introduced themselves. The one with dyed-orange hair said his name was Niall and the other with a pierced bottom lip said he was Dev.

Penny and Micah began to exchange casualties with them, and when food was offered, Simon made a beeline for that damn table. Crisps, cookies, Maltesers… the only thing that could have made it better was if there were scones like Ebb made with sour cherries and butter spread across the top, but this wasn’t a bed and breakfast. Simon knew that.

“Pardon me for asking,” Micah began, “but isn’t there a fourth member?”

“He’s ‘prepping’,” Dev said with large air quotes and a laugh. “Takes him, like, an hour before each show to actually show his damn face.”

“Oh, fuck off,” a voice sounded from a separate door in the room. Simon looked up from his phone then and saw this apparent fourth member he’d been looking for.

…

Baz didn’t know the guests were there yet. If he had, he wouldn’t have cursed out Dev in front of them. Just because he wasn’t a people-pleaser didn’t mean he had no manners. He was not raised in a barn, after all. He apologized immediately to the girl and her…boyfriend? He was really out of place here. This guy was as prim and proper as they got at a concert like this. Hell, the band was supposed to be the fanciest, and Baz had a black tee on with a few holes at the neck. This guy had a blazer, scarf, and button-up. At his own concert, Baz felt underdressed.

The girl was slightly more fitting. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and she had on black jeans and a nice shirt. Still royally out of place, but not as much as her date. Shit, the guy made him want to giggle.

And there was a third at the back. A third with golden hair and blue eyes and moles, and Baz liked him more than the last two exponentially. He felt his throat tighten along with maybe his jeans because this guy’s smile was so pretty and it was offered to him so willingly in greeting. In fact, Baz was staring at that smile so hard, he missed the guy’s name altogether.

“I’m sorry, what?” Baz asked in a way that sounded more harsh than necessary.

“Simon,” the boy said, extending his hand, “I’m Simon Snow.” Snow. Snow. SNOW. This was Mr. Snow’s son or something.

“Oh,” Baz replied, meeting the handshake. His ice-cold hands melted under Simon’s. He smiled at Simon not because of this but because that name just sounded straight out of a fantasy book. Simon Snow and the Great Adventures Through Hell or something maybe less depressing. Was that possible? He also looked like a guy from one of these novels. Only this was real life, and this hero was in front of him.

“My father told me to thank you for the tickets,” Simon finally said, and Baz’s hand ached at the loss of the warmth. “He couldn’t be here because of a prior engagement, so he sent us. This is Penny and Micah.” Simon indicated his friends, and Baz smiled and shook hands with them, too, though Simon’s hands felt warmer and better.

“Anything for the guy who gave us our start,” Niall said, popping a stray Malteser into his mouth. Baz nodded and sighed a little bit. His cheeks were heating up a little, and he pressed the palms of his hands onto them.

Their manager came in to tell them they had ten minutes to finish up, and Baz turned mostly to Simon to say, “We’ve reserved seats for you in front of the stage, or you could stay beside stage and watch.”

Simon looked at his friends, and they shrugged their shoulders. Simon then turned to reply. “We’ll stay beside stage and watch.” Then, when his friends couldn’t hear, Simon added, “Micah’s a little bit of a baby when it comes to noise.” Baz chuckled and placed his hand on Simon’s shoulder before he went to Agatha to get ready.

His night was beginning to get better.

…

Simon was flushed for the entirety of the concert. Every time he would look up, Baz would look over at him during the songs. It felt like his entire body was on fire. He couldn’t remember feeling like this in a long time.

Penny noticed, and when Micah went away to buy earplugs, she leaned over and shouted above the music, “So you gonna fuck or what?”

Simon choked on his tongue, and Penny laughed in response. Simon rubbed at his suddenly dry throat and tried to laugh, too, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like the idea.

It felt like the concert was over too fast. The band was coming back to the room where they had first met, and Penny, Simon, and Micah were all invited. Back. Agatha helped Dev open a champagne bottle, and Niall opted out for a Ribena instead.

And when the night finally seemed like it was over, Simon was a bit fuzzy on the edges. He was stumbling slightly over his feet, and just before he could go, he pulled Baz aside.

“I wanna see you again,” he said as he hastily drew his number on the back of Baz’s hand with his name above it. Simon giggled as he dotted his ‘i’ with a heart. Baz chuckled back.

…

Baz did want to see this boy again. Simon was leaning against the wall and laughing like writing his number was the funniest thing he’d ever done. His handwriting was shit, and Baz could hardly distinguish a four from a nine.

“I want to see you again,” Simon said again, but the giggle was gone. Baz could smell the liquor on his breath. It was lingering on his own, too. Agatha hadn’t spared a pence when she bought off the top shelf. A cup had alone had gotten him fuzzy.

Baz took hold of Simon’s hand firmer, and when Simon looked up from his bad penmanship, Baz leaned in and kissed him. They were both a little sauced, but the kiss felt like it sobered him up. It wasn’t fast or sloppy; Simon’s lips were soft against his chapped ones and warm where his were cold.

And then Simon opened his mouth and slipped his tongue in, and Baz pulled back. He was still holding onto Simon’s hand when he pulled him close and said, “Come to my room with me.”

And Simon nodded.

…

There was an ache low in Baz’s lower back when he rolled over the next morning. He was exhausted from the previous night, and, honest to God, he tried to sleep in, but this whole tour thing had gotten him on the internal clock of an infant: wake at three a.m. and scream until someone comes to talk to you.

Baz expected a warm body to be dipping the mattress next to him, but as he reached out, his hand moved through the ghost of cold air next to him. He sat up then, hissing only afterwards because, holy shit, last night was great. He fumbled to turn the bedside lamp on, but when he did, Baz realized he was right: there was no one next to him. Instead, there looked to be a hastily written note that he could barely make out to say ‘thank you’ with a smiley face and a number.

That shouldn’t have made him as happy as it does. Simon Snow. It sounded like the name a superhero would have. To be honest, Simon looked like a superhero. Baz folded the note and put it in his pocket as he put on the shed clothes from last night. The room was a god-awful mess. The sheets were half-off the bed, his clothes and shoes were strewn about with no care, and if Baz didn’t get out of there soon, he was pretty sure a noise complaint would be filed.

It was good he didn’t unpack, though. They had an early flight to catch, and although it was Baz’s idea to get a hotel room, it really wasn’t that good of one. He needed to call an Uber and get back to his bus as soon as possible so they can do an early check-in at the airport and get to their pre-booked private room.

Baz winced down the hall to the elevator and dragged his suitcase behind him. All-in-all, this wasn’t a bad way to spend two days in the hometown he was dreading to be back in. The concert went off without a hitch, he got in a good lay, and now he could go on and have fonder memories of this place. Fonder memories of golden hair and absurdly blue eyes and freckled skin. How could a person have that many moles?

He needed to stop thinking about it before he blushed any harder in the elevator next to an elderly woman who smelled of cigarettes and bad perfume.

…

Maybe he should’ve stayed.

Simon shook his head as he wiped down a mug. He really hated when girls with bright red lipstick asked for ceramic. Didn’t they know that shit was hard to clean? Did they just not care? To be fair, it was giving him time away from the front where someone was asking for an insanely difficult drink with soy instead of whole and non-dairy foam instead of whipped cream and blah, blah, blah…

Maybe he was keen on wiping these mugs clean because Simon was desperately trying to think of anything but the shag he’d had last night. It had been his first good lay in a long time. Probably his first good lay ever considering the only other people he’d ever had sex with were his ex-girlfriend and a couple of randoms from grindr.

An incoming plane from the airport a block away caused Simon to jump. It was his least favorite part of the job. The mugs would shake on the walls and if the people at the tables weren’t regulars, they’d start freaking out and demanding to know if they were being attacked.

Today, it was three regulars at a table in the corner and a new girl with her headphones turned up so loudly that Simon could hear the ear-pounding music.

Once the plane passed, Simon could let his thoughts wander in silence once again. And, of course, his thoughts wandered to long, black hair and tanned skin and chipped fingernail polish. That was probably the weirdest thing for him to have noticed, but Simon can remember the smirk on his face after Baz had pressed his palm against Simon’s chest. Chipped fingernail polish had caught Simon more off-guard than having sex with a Rockstar had.

And he’d left his number like an idiot. Why had he expected a Rockstar to text him after a one-time lay? It was a dream, if anything, for someone like that to even want to even remotely want to contact him. Simon wanted to call him, but he’d left before the sun could even come up. The ‘walk of shame’ back to his and Penny’s apartment had been filled with smiles and a good high before Simon caught the low and sunk to his couch, his brain filled with worry and anxiety over the past few hours of activity.

But there was still that nagging voice in the back of Simon’s head that said, “Well, what if he does call?” And because Simon couldn’t stop his daydreams, he imagined seeing Baz again but this time not at a concert. He wanted to see Baz in everyday life. He wanted to keep talking to this mysterious man in the band. He wanted to know the reason behind some of the lyrics they sang and the life of a touring band and what Baz’s favorite food was and so much more.

Simon wanted so much more than he was ever going to get.

…

“Fucking hell!” Agatha yelled into the phone. Baz held his head up in his hand as he took a bite of a vending machine-granola bar. “No, Mrs. Pomfrey, there’s no plane until tomorrow morning.” There was a silence as Mrs. Pomfrey responded. Then Agatha said, “Well, I wanted to get back to Ireland so we could immediately start working on new stuff.”

Baz stopped listening. Was he supposed to be stressed? Yeah, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he had another twenty-four hours left to be here. Another twenty-four hours to call back Simon Snow, the crazy superhero-named boy who looked like he’d hopped straight out of a YA fantasy movie.

So, what was Baz supposed to really do with the next 24 hours of his life? He couldn’t really send a message to this boy. It was a one-time deal. That’s how every hook-up was.

That background voice asked, “Then why did he leave his number, Baz?” And, sure, that was a valid point, but…

But what? There wasn’t anything else to say. He’d left his number. He wanted to talk. Or he at least wanted to go another round or something. Any interaction with Simon Snow would be worth it.

So, Baz pulled out that little sticky note from his pocket, typed the number into his cell phone, and sent a simple message. “Hey.”

Why was he so nervous? There was nothing to be nervous about.

It took a few minutes for the phone to buzz again.

“Hey. Who is this? Sorry, the number isn’t saved.”

God, Baz thought. Simon Snow was so posh when he texted. The thought had Baz biting his cheek to withhold a smile. “It’s Baz from last night. My flight got delayed. Wanna get coffee or something?”

The next reply took no time at all.

“Anything but coffee,” Simon responded. Baz couldn’t hold in his little chuckle. “I’m working at the little coffeeshop by the airport, so just meet me there at the end of my shift at ten?”

Baz’s cheeks were flushed. “And then what?” he asked.

The three little bubble dots stayed up for a few moments. “Then dinner at mine?”

And somehow that was better than just another lay.

…

Simon waited out in the rain under his umbrella, waiting to see Baz come up. He didn’t know what to expect. Was Baz gothic outside of his band? Simon certainly wasn’t expecting bright yellows or a tie-dye shirt or anything, but would his look be as dark and full of makeup as it had been the previous night? It was just as dark at ten in the night, but would it be different?

Well, a light grey shirt and joggers wasn’t too bad, right? Baz’s hair was a little mussed like it had been before, but there was no gel present, and he seemed more relaxed than before the show. He had large circles under his eyes, and his converse smacked the ground and created little splashes as he ran to the front of the store where Simon was waiting.

Under the umbrella, Simon was very aware of the thick silence that enveloped them. He could feel the blood rising to his cheeks and his heart beginning to speed up with anxiety.

Finally, Baz broke the silence. “So, dinner?”

Simon smiled and let out a little anxious laughter. “Yeah,” he replied. “It’s a long walk, so I ordered an Uber. Hope that’s okay.” Baz huffed a mixture between ‘yeah, I don’t give a shit’ and ‘sure, my feet hurt’. That was a relief. If Baz had decided to walk to the apartment, they’d have a nice ten miles to go. Running ten miles would maybe get them there at four in the morning.

The Uber ride was mostly silent. Simon didn’t know how to really act in this kind of situation. He’d only have a few hookups in his lifetime, and they’d never tried to connect with him afterwards. Was this really different from his other hook ups? Obviously, this aspect was. Had Baz really wanted to hang out again as much as Simon had wanted to? Was it obvious that he wanted this to happen again? Maybe longer than a two-night-stand?

The Uber was short. Traffic was usually terrible at night. Maybe God was on his side this time. A long car ride would only encourage awkwardness. This way, they could get back to the apartment where there was good food and clothes could either come off or stay on. No pressure.

However, Penny had gotten the late shift off. That might’ve been good news for Simon to have had a few hours ago. She had her head bent over a large pot full of boiling water and only gasped when she turned and saw the two of them by the doorway.

“I thought you had the late shift?” Simon asked.

“And I thought you had a bad track record with dating,” she replied, stepping away from the pot and coming to hug Baz. That was the part that shocked Simon. “Are you staying for dinner?” she asked.

“Only if that’s alright with you,” Baz answered. Simon noticed a blush high on Baz’s cheeks and could feel his own ears turn red.

Penny laughed and said, “That’s perfectly fine with me. I hope you like bad cooking!”

And bad cooking it was. The pasta burned to the bottom of the pan, and they ended up getting Indian takeaway from the place two blocks down from their apartment. Penny graciously offered to go get it, leaving Simon and Baz once again were left in silence.

Simon broke it this time. “Why did you decide to text?”

Baz quirked his eyebrows together and said, “My flight was delayed until the storm was over. It’s not like I had anything else to do.”

Simon sat down on the couch opposite Baz and said, “Well, yeah, but you didn’t have to spend it with me.” There was silence as Baz avoided his eyes and picked at a loose thread on the couch cushion. “So, why did you really decide to text me?”

Baz’s mouth did a little thing where it quirked to the side before he said, “Because I thought you were interesting last night at the concert.” He smiled again as he added, “And I really did haven nothing to do.”

“You could’ve practiced with your band,” Simon suggested.

“I was a bit fed up with them at the airport,” Baz replied. “Sharing a bus with them is sometimes too much, so just imagine being stuck with three frustrated people trying to practice a fine art.”

Simon snorted and said, “Rock-metal is not a fine art!”

“It so is!” Baz retorted, shoving Simon gently in the shoulder. There was a silence after that that was much more comfortable than the one before.

Penny got back with Indian takeaway just a few moments later, and they all sat in the living room stuffing their faces full of way too spicy food. There was easy conversation about the band and the tour and how much it took to design merch.

And when Penny said goodnight and finally retired to her bedroom at twelve-thirty, there really wasn’t a silence anymore. They continued the topic about which pop star was the rudest person (spoiler, it was Katy Perry) and who had been the nicest and who they’d met in the weirdest setting possible. The only celebrity Simon had ever seen was Emma Watson getting out of her car to go into the airport. It wasn’t really a very interesting story.

“I wish your flight wasn’t in a few hours,” Simon confessed. “I wish you were just another guy and not a superstar.”

“I am just some guy,” Baz insisted. “Only difference is I happen to be asked for photos in public places.”

Simon scoffed and shook his head. “I just meant that I wish you weren’t going.”

Baz nodded his head. And then he said, “Just come with me, then.”

Simon scoffed again. If hanging out with Baz meant he was going to be scoffing a lot, then he needed to invest in some cough drops now. “Yeah. Right. Like I could just get on a plane with a guy I met yesterday.”

“I’m serious,” Baz insisted, taking hold of Simon’s hand across the couch. “Come with me. You have a passport, right?” Simon nodded. “Then come. We’re going back to Ireland.”

Simon shook his head and tried to form a cohesive thought. Had he really just been invited to Ireland by a guy that had probably slept his way through Europe? Would Simon just be forgotten at the next stop on tour? Did he even really want to go?

Yes, obviously.

There wasn’t really time to think, though. Baz had apparently gotten nervous and decided that having sex was a good way to divert the conversation. Well, Simon would be damned if he didn’t at least go along with this.

…

Baz sulked in the car ride to the airport. He shouldn’t have even been sulking. Of course Simon Snow was not going to want to come to Ireland with a guy he’d just met.

When he’d gotten out of the cab and met up with everyone inside, they didn’t even bother to ask where he’d disappeared to or why he looked so pissed. There wasn’t any reason to. Baz was always pissy in the mornings, and even if it didn’t go away by the next few months, as long as they continued to work on music and plan the next press tour, then who would give a fuck?

Baz threw his shit down in the bin and began to unlace his shoes. There was a tap on his shoulders, and without looking up he snappily responded with, “Fuck off, Agatha. I’m not in the mood.”

“Geez,” said a voice that wasn’t Agatha’s or any of his bandmates. “I just wanted to know how much a plane to Ireland would cost.” Baz made contact with those shitty Converse and felt a smirk grow across his face.

He looked up and said, “A plane to Ireland with me is free on your part.”

Simon smiled down at him, and the little backpack over his shoulder which presumably held his essentials made Baz even happier. “I hear the weather this time of year is gross.”

“It’ll be better with you there,” Baz said as he stood without his shoes on. “Are you sure you wanna get on a plane with a guy you just met?”

Simon sighed and replied with, “Penny and the police are just a phone call away.”

And Baz laughed.

#snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #carry on #rainbow rowell #fluff #cuteness #big bang fic #big bang #carry on big bang #carry on au #SnowBaz art #art

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broqueroi · 6 years

Text

Unsolicited Stucky FicRec

These are the fics that had absolutely wrecked my soul. Possibly will never dig my out of this hole that sucked me in years ago and no regret or whatsoever. This list will be updated as time goes by.

Building From the Ground Up Series by EmilianaDarling

E | Completed | 68,687 words

“What about you, Barnes?” asks Dugan. The sound of his voice brings Bucky back to the present, dredges him out of memories of a beat-up little apartment with sunlight streaming in through the windows. “Got yourself a girl waiting for you back home?”

There’s an answer on the tip of his tongue, one that he’ll deliver with a cocky grin and a half-laugh and a little shake of his head. But Bucky is exhausted and hungry and so sore it hurts to move, and one of the guys in their platoon fucking died yesterday. His mouth tastes like iodine water and his feet hurt and none of it’s going to get better any time soon, and all at once Bucky misses Steve so badly he can barely see straight.

“Yeah,” Bucky declares abruptly, the word escaping from his mouth before he fully realizes what he’s saying. “Yeah, I do.”

The One Where (Somehow) the Team is Oblivious by Darksknight

E | Completed | 16,495 words

Wanda had kissed her brother on his cheek after being separated from him for a short time- she understands a need for closeness after being lonely. But Wanda never slept on top of her brother, so seeing Bucky on top of Steve... is a little odd. (Steve and Bucky act a lot closer than friends usually do. There's a reason for that.)

Vicissitude by Messiah

E | Wip | 48,085 words

If Steve were a balloon, seeing Bucky wear the familiar star-spangled uniform was the needle that sent him deflating across the room. He couldn’t explain the ache in his chest or the ice in his stomach or why the smile he pushed onto his lips felt like a too tight sweater.

A story about sand monsters, masked terrorists and alien bullets that would make any supermodel jealous. Not that Steve was aiming to fit into a Victoria Secret bikini anytime soon, but the fact still remained. Just like the fact that Steve found himself back where he started seventy years ago: small, sick and with Bucky finishing his fights.

Yes, Captain Series by marlowe_tops

E | Completed | 42,934 words

Starts pre-Serum, in which Bucky takes seriously terrible care of himself because he’s trying to stifle the feelings he keeps having for Steve. Steve gets so pissed that he flat out orders Bucky into eating and sleeping and they both quickly realize Bucky loves being ordered around, but their new-forged domestic bliss is quickly damaged by the encroaching war.

“Yes, Captain,” Bucky sasses, when he’s capable of speech again.

Steve stills. His head tilts very slightly. Not shocked, not angry. Considering.

Bucky feels adrenaline flood through his body. This little punk is ninety pounds wet, and Bucky is absolutely frozen in his chair intimidated by him.

In the Deed of the Glory Series by queenmab_scherzo

E | Completed | 184,945 words

Steve and Bucky end up playing for rival college football teams.

Rivers and Roads by AustinB

E | Completed | 28,569 words

Steve is working undercover for Hydra when he gets an unexpected promotion.

To the Winter Soldier Project.

Devour by SeptemberWolves 🔒

E | Completed | 77,002 words | + other pairs

Steve was on top of an office building when he caught the scent of an unmarked omega going into heat.

(The Winter Soldier goes into heat unexpectedly during a mission. Steve loses control and mates him. None of them are prepared for the consequences. Luckily the Avengers are there to help.)

Painted in Indigo by nekare

M | Completed | 11,031 words

“You should be careful of that one,” Mr. Hendrickson says, with a nod to Bucky outside the window. “It ain’t right. Looking at you all the time as he does. The way he should be looking at girls.”

Steve laughs, because damn, but what a ridiculous idea.

Or, five times Steve caught Bucky looking at him, and the one time he looked first.

Restless 'verse Series by Claudia_flies

E | Completed | 39,635 words

Bucky jolts awake. His legs are tangled in a maroon colored duvet. He is lying in the middle of a large king bed, surrounded by pillows in matching maroon pillowcases. He is warm, but there is a part of him, deep in his gut that is still cold.

There are no dreams in cryo.

sokrovische moyo by greenbergsays

E | Completed | 30,000 words

The one where Bucky is a dragon, Steve is a water nymph, and somehow, they fall in love.

Captain Aggressively-Whipped: Kick-Ass Warbuddies by FlyByNightGirl

E | Wip | 61,994 words

“Oh god man. Shut up. We’ll save your goddamn butt buddy but I swear to god I better not hear a single damn thing about your ass and that metal arm after, you hear? Or I'm fucking out. Like that. Light switch man. I will find the goddamn door.”

Steve clapped him on the shoulder, shaking once for emphasis. “I knew you'd understand.”

He didn’t miss the miserable eye roll up to the sky, but he couldn’t be sure what Sam muttered under his breath, although it did sound suspiciously like you flirt with a guy once and suddenly you’re helping him back to his betrothed and. Well.

Steve sure knew how to pick good friends.

The Man on the Bridge Series by boopboop 🔒

M | Completed | 132,027 words

Steve Rogers turning up at Tony's door in the middle of the night might be a bit out of character, but it's not completely out of the realm of possibility. Stranger things have happened.

Steve Rogers turning up at Tony's door with an amnesiac assassin - who may or may not have some of Tony's personally designed hardware attached where his arm should be - well that's just far too interesting to turn away, even if Tony is trying to avoid all things S.H.I.E.L.D these days.

Monster and the man by cookie_book_took

E | Completed | 88,720 words

Steve finds something he wants and he's going to get it. It doesn't matter that the man of his desires has a boyfriend, doesn't matter than he doesn't feel the same, doesn't matter that they've barely shared a conversation.

Bucky Barnes is his, his mind, his body and eventually his heart will all belong to Steve....

or : Bucky just wants to go about his comfortable life but Psychopath Steve had over ideas. His body and mind are turned upside down by Steve, but he won't let him have his heart so easily.

alternatively: MONSTER AND THE MAN: A SUMMARY

Bucky's internal monologue: Dis bitch. ... .

Steve's internal monologue: MY BITCH <3

Steve, Bucky and the Apex Alpha by cookie_book_took

E | Wip | 23,140 words

After waking from the ice, Steve suffers from headaches, blackouts...and abstract thoughts.

When he's introduced to an intriguing omega, his symptoms intensify.

He likes Bucky, of course he does, but the omega already has an alpha. The more he sees Bucky, the more he thinks about him, the stronger the impulse is to have him, the more his possessive thoughts grow.

but they aren't his thoughts...another personality battles for control inside Steve's mind, he calls himself the Apex Alpha and he's got his heart set on claiming the omega for his own...

On indefinite hiatus

the sweetest kind of poison by yellow_crayon

E | Completed | 60,852 words

Between running an orphanage with his over-protective brothers and Colonel Steve Rogers's increasingly inappropriate advances, Bucky's life is...complicated.

(Bucky participates in the Annual Hunt to get the cash rewards and meets Steve who wants him bad. AU)

Sharp Teeth and Bird Bones by Shaish, Stringlish

E | Completed | 32,629 words

I'll always find you.

Breathless by thelittlestpurplecat

E | Completed | 24,847 words

Steve's Serum is failing. He's suffering again from asthma, colorblindness, dizziness and heart trouble, problems he thought he'd left behind in the 40's. Tony and Bruce can see the problem, but not how to fix it, and Bucky is determined through all of this to do what's best for Steve, even if he's not always sure what that is.

The Curves of Your Lips Rewrite History by agetwellcard

E | Completed | 17,498 words

After Steve's wedding, Bucky kisses Steve and everything changes.

(AU in which Steve and Bucky survive the war. Steve marries Peggy, and Bucky has to deal with his feelings for Steve.)

We Were Here All Along by giselleslash

E | Completed | 15,046 words

After the events in DC Bucky shows up at Steve’s door. All Steve wants to do is hide him away from the world so when Natasha offers the use of one of her safehouses Steve takes her up on it. Now the two of them are together, and on their own, nothing but two ghosts haunting a cabin in the woods desperately trying to get back to each other.

The Sun & The Star by greenbergsays

T | Completed | 2,146 words

There is a way these things are done; this is not it.

Or the one where Steve belongs to the Winter Soldier.

An Accident of Time by Pickitup

M | Completed | 42,282 words

Boys weren’t omegas. Not outside of blue movies, or bluer songs, at least, the kind of anecdotes too ribald even for soldiers to tell. Girls were omegas, sometimes, but rarely, even in those days. Dying breeds, he guessed. When he was the asset it had stopped entirely, he had thought it all over: feels sick thinking of what they would have done to exploit him if he had suffered back then. But now, 2014, eating three meals a day, sleeping regularly in a safe bed, the old ghost has come back.

Heat Wave Series by cleo4u2, xantissa

E | Wip | 413,056 words

Captain America and the Winter Soldier meet for the first time in 2015. Now Bucky, after years of torture at Hydra's and more as a prisoner of S.H.I.E.L.D., is being given the chance to gain his freedom. All he has to do, is complete a mission with a team he can't stand while following the orders of yet another pompous, controlling Alpha. Steve thinks he can get his team through their most difficult mission to date, so long as he can get the smell of the Winter Soldier's heat out of his nose.

#Unsolicited Ficrecs #Stucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #fic #ficrec #fanfiction #stucky fic #stucky ficrec #stucky fanfiction

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sorrybaescenarios · 6 years

Text

Untouchable | Part 1

Pairing: Mafia AU!Mark Tuan x Reader

Genre: Romance, angst, action

Warnings: Strong language, mild violence, m (eventual smut)

Word count: 1464

You try to convince yourself that he’s still the man you fell in love with, that nothing has changed, but watching him for the past year made you realize just how little he resembles the man he used to be. But I guess you’re in too deep now to leave, aren’t you?

“Trust what you see, not what you hear.”

Other Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

The loud music could still be heard from downstairs as you quickly made your way to the private lounge of the club, trying to attract as little attention as possible. This wasn’t your scene at all. As a teenager, you tried to avoid going to clubs as good as you could and even now, as an adult, you still try to do that. You didn’t like the smoke, the all too expensive drinks or the drunk creepers who try to hit on everything with a pulse. Why go to a club to get wasted when you could just save yourself the trouble and get drunk in the comfort of your own home, without worrying about the possibility of being poisoned or something? You let out a tired sigh and climb the last stair, walking forward before stopping in front of the velvet ropes that were blocking your entrance. The bouncer at the door looked you up and down before stepping forward.

“This area is closed to the public, ma’am, please go back downstairs where everyone else is.”

“She’s with the boss, let her in.”

You turned around at the familiar voice, seeing non-other than Alex looking down at you with a reassuring smile. The bouncer’s eyes widened before he quickly unhooked the rope, stepping to the side. “I’m sorry, I had no idea. Please go right in.”

You gave him a fake smile and walked in, letting the door close behind you. Once inside, you stopped for a second, confused at the sudden changes. The spacious room was now furnished and decorated with the finest pieces, specially picked to fit your boyfriend’s expensive tastes, with red velvet couches, a mini bar and a fancy pool table in the middle of the room. Speaking of which, you looked up and finally saw him seated at one of the booths, looking through his phone. You smiled and made your way towards him. The sound of your heels against the hard wood floor made him look up, smirking once his eyes landed on your figure. He tossed his phone to the side and leaned back against the couch.

“Why did you want to meet here? You haven’t been home in days; don’t you think that is where you should be?” You asked, stopping in front of him, crossing your arms over your chest. His eyes softened and the cocky smirk on his face was replaced with a half-smile, making your heart beat faster.

“Oh, come on baby, don’t be like this. It’s nice to get out of the house once in a while. Loosen up a bit.” He grinned and took your hand, plopping you down on his lap before burying his head in your hair, inhaling your familiar scent. “I really missed you.”

You sighed and turned around, straddling his lap. “I missed you too…I always do when you leave, Mark.” At your words, Mark let out a sad sigh and wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing your body closer. You shivered as he started placing soft kisses along your neck, occasionally sucking on your sweet spot, wanting to leave his mark. “How do you like the club?” he asked in a low voice, placing his hands on your hips with his head still buried in your neck.

“It-It’s nice I guess.” You answered tangling your fingers in his fluffy hair. “You know, if you were to tell me this one year ago, I would have never believed you would come to own some of the most expensive clubs in L.A. It doesn’t suit you at all.”

Mark stopped his assault on your neck and sat still for a second, the only thing heard being the obnoxious music from downstairs. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. As you opened your mouth, prepared to break the awkward silence he suddenly blew on your neck, placing a last kiss on the delicate skin before lifting his head and staring into your eyes. “Business is business. People change sweetheart.”

You frowned at this, letting your gaze fall into your lap where your fingers were playing with the ends of your dress. You were never a big fan of Mark’s “business” but you have to admit, running a few clubs is still better than his other – ahem - job. You felt two fingers lift your chin up, making you look into his brown eyes. “Don’t be like this.” He leaned in, touching your lips with his soft ones but not moving any further, waiting for your reaction. You sighed and connected your lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. He smirked into the kiss and pulled you closer by your hips. His kisses were soft and sweet, filled with the sincere love he felt for you. Mark took his time, slowly exploring every inch of your mouth while his hands ran softly up and down your body, caressing each curve. You pushed his shoulder, making him fall back into the sofa’s back rest, your hands gripping tightly at his leather jacket. Just as Mark was about to unzip your dress, the door flew open, hitting the wall with a loud thud, making you jump up from your boyfriend’s lap. He chuckled and sat you back down on his knees, wrapping one arm around your waist while your legs were resting on the couch sideways.

“Boss! We have very important news!” one of the people that interrupted you guys stepped forward, wanting to get Mark’s full attention. Mark looked at him and nodded, waiting for him to continue. The guy’s eyes shifted between you and his boss, not being sure if he was allowed to talk about something like this with you in the room. An annoyed groan was heard from the small group of people before Alex walked forward with a bothered look on his face, completely different from the way he smiled at you at the beginning of the night.

“That punk that was in charge of getting the guns disappeared on us.”

“Pardon?”

Another guy, visibly calmer than Alex, cleared his throat and continued. “He took the car, the money he was supposed to give and ran away.”

“What? When did this happened?” Mark’s grip on your waist tightened, clenching his jaw, trying to keep his calm.

“This morning sir.”

Silence. Everyone was silent, waiting for Mark to talk again. You let out a squeal of surprise as he suddenly picked you up and sat you back down on the couch besides him, before standing up running a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends in frustration.

“Then why the fuck are you telling me about this now?! It’s 12 AM for fucks sake. What have you guys been doing until now, huh? Braiding each other’s hair and gossiping over a cup of fucking coffee?” He barked, making everyone freeze in place, straightening their postures.

“We wanted to make sure he was really gone, sir. We really didn’t – “

“And it took you the whole fucking day to realize he ran away?!”

“Look Mark, you need to chill – “

At the mention of his name, Mark turned towards the group of armed men, all staring in shock at Alex as those words left his lips without any remorse. If it was someone else, he wouldn’t have thought twice before shooting a bullet through the guy’s leg for “disrespecting him” but since it’s Alex, Mark’s trusted bodyguard, he always chooses to let it slide.

“Oh, but I am chill since you will be going to bring him to finish that asshole’s job.” He laughed, letting a smirk make his way on his face. Him? Why does he need him?! The guy from earlier, cleared his throat again, stopping everyone’s whispering.

“Him? Are you sure, sir? – “

“Do you want to do it, Ethan?”

“N-No, sir.”

“Fantastic! Then it’s settled. You go out there and look for him. I don’t care what you have to do to get him to me, beat him up for all I care. Just make sure he gets to the house before 4 AM. Go.”

At his command, everyone left the room in a hurry not saying anything else. Mark sighed again, starting to pace around the room, trying to calm his nerves. You looked at him, waiting for the right moment to actually say something without angering him more than he already was. An angry Mark was like a bomb. If you mess with it too many times he would blow right into your face, scaring the life out of you. Eventually, he turned in your direction, holding out his hand for you to take. You looked at him confused but placed your hand in his, allowing him to pull you up with him and drag you outside the door.

“Let’s go.”

- ✿ Admin D

↜Masterlist↝

#got7 #got7 mafia au #got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #mark tuan #got7 mark #mark tuan scenarios #kpop mafia au #kpop scenarios

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darling-cas · 7 years

Text

Whatever It Takes: Chapter 2

ACOTAR Figure Skating AU

Summary: Nesta firmly believes that if you want something, you have to work your ass off for it. And she wants a National title attached to her name. But when her coach decides that a change in discipline is what Nesta needs, she’s far from impressed. Now, instead of training as a ladies single skater, she has to switch gears and skate as a pairs skater. And her partner? Someone she can’t stand. Non other then cocky, flirtatious, former Men’s skater Cassian. Edited by: @ilikebigbooks-and-icannotlie

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

——————–

Azriel stood just a few feet away from boards waiting, watching.

He watched everything. He kept his eyes on the players around him, skating up and down the ice at top speed. He kept his eyes on the puck, watching as it was passed from player to player.

He watched everything, taking it all in. No one paid much attention to him. They were all too concerned about the puck and trying to get it in the net.

But that’s how it always was.

They called him the Shadowsinger - no one ever knew where he was or when he was going to show up. Even if they knew to keep a look out for him, if someone looked away for just a moment, he was there, sneaking up behind them. His blades seemed to not even make a sound, as if he appeared out of the shadows themselves.

Azriel hadn’t been too sure about the nickname at first. But after a while, he’d grown accustomed to it. He played off of it. He took the name and made it a part of him.

So he stood back. He let the other players do what they needed to do. They passed the punk between them, slapping it across the icy surface. They took shots on the net only to have the goalie deflect them. There was yelling - from between the players and the coach - mixed in with the sound of blades plowing up snow.

Throughout the chaos, Azriel simply stood in the shadows. Waiting. Watching.

Then, there it was. Drakon managed to get the puck. He was positioned by their goalie’s net, the opposing team closing in on him. There wasn’t more than a nod of his head as Drakon met Azriel’s gaze.

And Azriel moved.

He skated across the ice as Drakon shot the punk towards him. The other players were confused for a moment. Their eyes followed the punk, which crashed across Azriel’s waiting stick.

Azriel didn’t stick around to see the look of understanding and determination cross his teammates faces.

He took off down the ice, a trail of players coming after him. But he payed them no attention. He was too busy feeling the wind on his face. His legs burned as his blades carried him down the ice. He pushed and pushed, not slowing down for one moment. Not as the net came into view. Not as the other players started to crowd around him. Not as he took the shot. It was only when the punk flew past the goalie and hit the back of the net that Azriel came to a stop.

There were cheers and groans all around him. A few players close by him slapped him on the back as the coach blew his whistle.

“I’m so fucking glad we’re on the same team, man,” Drakon said, coming up to Azriel as the whole team made their way towards the boards.

“I know.” Azriel wiped some sweat off his brow before giving Drakon a sly smile. “I’d hate to have to beat your ass every time we played a game against each other.”

Drakon sent him a playful glare, a curse about to slip past his lips. But Coach cut him off before he could speak it.

“Good practice boys,” Coach said. His arms were crossed tightly in front of him as the whole Velaris University hockey team stood before him. “We still have a week until the first game of the year, so here’s what I want us to work on.”

Azriel stood there, quietly listening as Coach spent a few moments talking strategy, pointing out a number of things he wanted the team to work on before finally dismissing them for the night.

“Coach has no reason to worry,” Drakon said, standing next to Azriel as they waited to pile off the ice. “With the Shadowsinger on our team, those prissy Royals won’t know what hit them.”

“I don’t know,” Azriel said. “Their goalie is pretty good from what I hear.”

“Someone whose nickname is ‘The Prince’ stands no chance against us.” Drakon clasped Azirel on the back before stepping off the ice, causing Azriel to laugh.

But the sound died in his throat when he saw who was standing there. And he suddenly couldn't breathe.

Her hair was half pulled back, a few golden-brown waves framing her heart-shaped face.Those stunning, rich, brown eyes where looking down at her phone as she typed away. She was dressed in a simple pair of brown boots, black pants, and a tan jacket. But to Azriel, there was nothing more beautiful in the world.

“Dude.”

Azriel’s head snapped to his right, only to find Drakon giving him a knowing look. A look which Azirel returned with a glare. He pulled off his helmet, his damp dark hair sticking to his forehead before swallowing and making his way over to the beauty standing there.

“Hey.”

Elain’s head snapped up. Those doe-like eyes met his and a breathtaking smile appeared on her soft face.

“Hey.” She dropped her phone in her pocket, nodding towards the ice. “I saw your last play. It was good.”

“Just good, huh?” Azirel couldn't help himself. The words left his month before he could think about them. The smug, teasing smile appeared on his lips without a second thought. “Think you can do better?”

A musical laugh left Elain’s lips, causing Azirel’s stomach to flip, as she rolled her eyes. “We’ve been over this before, Az. Figure skaters can skate circles around you hockey players.”

“Probably,” he shrugged. “That doesn’t mean you can do the plays better though.”

“Shall we test that theory?” The teasing sparkle shinning in Elain’s eyes made Azriel laugh.

He couldn't help it. The teasing, the laughter, the smiles, it was all easy with Elain. It always was. Ever since they had met in high school and were paired together for a Biology project. She wasn’t like the others outside of his inner circle of friends. She didn’t look at him like everyone else did. As the shy boy who ran away from his abusive family. She looked at him as he was. As just Azriel. And they’ve been best friends ever since.

“So, should I take all this talk about figure skating as your way of saying you’re going back this year?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Azriel regretted them.

Elain’s face fell. The smile that once graced her lips disappeared. Her eyes lost their sparkle as she stuffed her hands in her pockets.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted quietly. “I’m still-”

“There you are.”

Azriel looked over Elain’s shoulder, only to find Lucien walking towards them. His hockey bag was thrown over his shoulder, fire-red hair pulled back in a pony tail and swinging behind him.

Mid-step, Lucien paused. Just for a beat, just long enough for his eyes to shift from Elain to Azriel and back again. Just long enough for a hint of caution and uncertainty to take hold on his face.

His eyes shifted back to Elain. Though his features softened as he walked towards her, Azriel still see the caution and fickleness lingering just under the surface.

“Hey,” Lucien smiled softly

He came up to them, wrapping an arm around Elain’s shoulder and pulling her in for a kiss.

Azriel looked away, taking in a deep breath through his nose as growing frustration threatened to creep through his veins.

“I told you that you could go wait in the car,” Lucien smiled at Elian when they pulled apart.

“I know.” Elain’s own smile didn’t reach her eyes as she turned to Azriel. “But I ended up talking to Az.”

Lucien’s eyes snapped towards the man in question. His smile became more strained as he nodded - a nod that Azirel returned.

“Hey man.” Lucien cleared his throat. “That last play you did was pretty good.”

Unlike with Elain, Azriel simple replied with a quick “Thanks, man.”

The tension grew around them, no one really knowing what to say. Lucien and Azirel may have skated on the same team, but that didn’t mean they hung out a great deal off the ice. In fact, Azirel would rather not deal with Lucien at all. Not after how Lucien’s best friend Tamlin had treated Feyre, someone who was like a sister to Azriel at that point. But also mostly because-

“Anyways,” Lucien cleared his throat once more, turning to face Elain. “We should get going.”

“Right.” Elain nodded before giving Azriel the smallest, loving smile. “I’ll talk to you later Az, okay?”

Azriel gave Elain his own small smile, ignoring the dark look that passed over Lucien’s face. “Sounds good.”

“See you at practice tomorrow.” Lucien’s words were a bit colder than they were before as Azriel nodded a goodbye.

He didn’t move though, not as he watched Elain and Lucien walk away, Lucien’s arm still draped over her shoulders.

And Azriel hated himself. Hated himself for the anger he let creep in. Hated that said anger was directed at Lucien. Hated that it was directed at Lucien because he had his arm around Elain. Because he got to hold her, love her, kiss her.

But he hated himself the most for allowing it to happen. Hated himself for falling in love with his best friend, again. For loving another man’s girlfriend.

With a deep sigh, Azriel marched off towards the locker room, cursing himself as he went. Someone up there clearly had it out for him. Someone up there was looking down at him, laughing. He wondered what he did to deserve it. Because lord knows he didn’t ask for any of it. It just happened. He couldn't help it.

Somehow, he had fallen in love with Elain Archeron.

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

“She still hasn’t come back?”

Cassian shook his head as he took a sip of his water. He leaned back against the boards, looking out at the ice before him. The freshly cleaned surface glistened. The sound of only one pair of blades drifted to his ears. Blades that belonged to Feyre as she skated up and down the ice, skating through her warm ups.

“Nope,” Cassian said, taking another sip from his water bottle. “And it’s been three days. Coach Carver isn’t too impressed.”

A deep chuckle escaped Rhys’ lips. He leaned against the boards next to Cassian, dark hair swept to one side.

“No. I wouldn’t say he is.”

Cassian shot Rhys a sly grin before turning back to the ice. He watched as Feyre weaved up the ice, knees bent, causing the edges of her blades to cut deep into the ice. She caught their gazes on her from across the rink, and flashed them a grin and wink before flipping backwards.

Skating in the pairs time slot was much different from his original singles time slot. For one, Cassian got to sleep in, which was a big plus. But also, there was so much more room. With just the three of them on the ice the past few days, Cassian had more room to skate and practice then he’d had in years.

Practice. What he was doing wasn’t exactly practice. The past three days, Coach Carver had been teaching Cassian all he could about pairs skating. But given the fact that they were missing the pair, practices had become pretty useless.

“Coach Carver seems convinced she’ll be back,” Cassian said after a moment.

Rhys looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “And what do you think?”

What did he think? Cassian wasn’t 100% sure. He never was when it came to Nesta. He was normally good at getting a read on people, knowing what their next move would be. But with Nesta… Gods damn him. He could never get a read on that woman.

It honestly didn’t even surprise him one bit when she walked off a few days ago. It was a shock - Nesta Archeron walking out of practice! Who would think it? - but not a surprise. It was actually a pretty tame reaction, compared to what Cassian thought would happen when she found out they would be skating partners.

“I don’t know what to think,” Cassian answered honestly. “God only knows with that woman.”

Rhys hummed in agreement as Feyre skated up to them.

“Talking about my sister again?” She kicked her leg up on the boards, stretching out her muscles. But there was no hardness, no bitterness in her voice as she spoke. It was a general question.

“Any clue when she’ll be back?” Cassian asked.

When not if. Because it would take a hell of a lot more than just a discipline change to keep Nesta Archeron away from the ice.

But Feyre simply shook her head, switching her legs so she was facing away from them.

“No clue,” she called over her shoulder. “I doubt she’d tell me anyway.”

“So this is how we become National Champions, is it?”

Cassian glanced past Feyre. Rhys chuckled as Coach Suriel skated towards them, a coffee cup gripped in one hand. He was dressed head to two in black, making his already pale skin look corpse-like. His too-thin lips were pulled back in a teasing smile. Light green eyes - so light that from far away they appeared white - sparkled. His limbs were long and thin, head hairless, nose so small, the nostrils looked almost like slits. If you looked at Coach Suriel, you definitely didn’t think Olympic Champion.

But he was. He was the best of the best. Even though for years he had been in retirement, not coaching or even skating. Then, he found Feyre and Rhys. Both had just lost their skating partners. He saw something in them - or so he said - and took them under his wing. He forced them to work together even though they hated each other at the time. And now, they were the best Pairs team in the entire country.

“We just stand around chatting and National titles fall into our hands, do they?” Coach Suriel came to a stop in front of the threesome.

“If only it was that easy, Coach.” Rhys smiled as he wrapped his arm around Feyre’s shoulder, who was now standing upright.

“Yes, if only.” Coach took a sip of his coffee. “It would have saved me so much trouble last year, dealing with you two always being at each other's throats. Now say goodbye to Mr. Guerrero. We need to get to work. And I’m sure he does too.”

Rhys and Feyre said their goodbyes, making promises to meet up after practice to get something to eat. As they skated up the ice, Cassian turned only to find Coach Carver stepping onto the ice himself. Cassian grabbed his water bottle and took in a deep breath before skating to the end of the ice to meet him. Skating towards another useless-

He came to a complete stop, standing just a few feet away from Coach Carver.

Because there, stepping onto the ice, dressed in all black with her hair slicked back in its ever-present ponytail, was Nesta Archeron. He was shocked and confused as to why she was there. As to what had happened to get her to finally come back. But most of all, he was captured. Because she looked just as haunting and stunning as every other time Cassian set his eyes on her.

For the moment he met Nesta Archeron back when they were young and just starting out as skaters, she had taken over his mind. Whenever she was around, it was hard for Cassian to keep his eyes off of her. She was enchanting. She was a challenge, a worthy opponent if you will. He’d never had much trouble when it came to girls. But Nesta… Nesta was different. A tense breath of fresh air. An animal ready to strike if he poked her enough, pushed her buttons just right.

And damn him. Because no matter what, he couldn’t stop pushing those buttons. He couldn't stay away. Even if he’d wanted to.

Cassian mentally punched himself, yelling at himself to cut it out as he skated over to Coach Carver.

“Coach won't train me unless I’m skating with you,” Nesta said as a way of greeting, just as Cassian came to a stop next to her and Coach. Her arms were crossed over her chest, eyes hard. “And I need to place at Nationals this year. So, looks like I’m fucking stuck with you.”

The words cut a lot deeper than Cassian wanted to admit. To himself or to anyone else. But he put a smug smile on his face, eyes swimming with amusement as he watched Nesta narrow her eyes at him even more. An electric charge ran through him, a pull in the pit of his stomach.

“Good morning to you too, Nes.”

He knew she hated that nickname, but he couldn't help himself. He was sure that if it were possible, steam would have been coming out of her ears. He just couldn't help it. Pushing her buttons was just so much fun.

“I don’t want you two ripping each other apart before we even start,” Coach Carver spoke up from where he stood, just behind the boards. When Cassian looked, he swore he saw amusement shining in his eyes.

“Ms. Archeron.” Coach Carver turned his gaze to Nesta. “Remember. You’re on probation. For a very long time. I don’t tolerate my skaters throwing hissy fits and leaving the ice. So count your blessings that you’re even back, and if I were you, I’d watch that tongue of yours very carefully.”

There was a beat of silence. Cassian watched as Nesta clenched her jaw. Her eyes were like ice, brows pinched. After a moment, she gave one tight nod.

Coach Carver and Nesta continued to stare at eachother for a moment, having a silent conversation. Cassian could only guess that whatever they talked about before they stepped onto the ice really affected Nesta. Because she kept her mouth shut.

“Okay then.” Coach Carver placed his hands in his pockets, looking between both his skaters. “Seeing as you two already know each other, I see no point in wasting any more time. Go line up on the blue line.”

The sternness in Coach Carver’s voice had them both moving without question. Nesta turned with a flip of her hair, skating towards the blue line with Cassian trailing after her, more than happy to get away from Coach Carver - Cassian always felt the slightest bit of fear when he was around that man.

As they both came to a stop, side by side, Cassian could see Rhys and Feyre working on a new lift. They smiled and laughed as Feyre fell into Rhys’s arms, Coach Suriel shaking his head before telling them to go again.

They made it look so easy. The lifts, the jumps, the spins. The way they moved together, and told a story on the ice. The connection between them was as timeless as the night sky. A part of Cassian could only hope it would be that easy between him and Nesta.

The more rational part of him knew that would never going to happen.

“Okay.” Coach Carver skated up to them in full training mode. “Stand in Kilian hold.”

“Why?” Nesta raised a sharp eyebrow in question.

Cassian couldn't help but agree with her.

But Coach Carver just gave her a sharp sideways glance, lips pursed. It was clear that his patience was running very thin with her.

“Here.” Cassian reached out and took her left hand in his, pulling it across his body. Mainly to stop the fight that was sure to break out between the Coach and Nesta if they kept it up.

He felt Nesta tense up at his touch. Even more so when he brought his right arm around her to place his hand on her hip. She actually took the smallest step away from him. Cassian tried not to feel the sharp ping of hurt in his heart as she did so. But after a beat, when Nesta closed her eyes and took a breath through her nose, she placed her right hand on top of the one he had resting on her hip.

“Now what?” Cassian glanced up at Coach Carver, hyper-aware of the woman he was holding onto.

“I assume you both remember the Dutch Waltz.” Coach Carver’s voice was flat, almost bored.

Cassian couldn't help but blink in surprise. He heard Nesta mumble “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” next to him.

“You want us to skate the Dutch Waltz?” Cassian questioned. “The first dance you learn when you enter skating?”

“Correct, Mr. Guerrero.”

“It’s a dance for ten year olds.” Nesta’s voice was tight as she tried to stop herself from snapping.

“Then you both should find this very easy.”

“Why?” Cassian couldn't help but ask.

Coach Carver looked him up and down, staring intensely. Cassian didn’t think he’d ever get used to that look as fear shot through his body. Even if they were similar to the only kinds of looks his former coach - Coach Enalius - gave him.

Then, Carver’s gaze moved to Nesta. Then back and forth between the two. After a moment, Cassian wasn’t sure if he was even going to answer the question. If maybe he was just going to walk away.

“Why?” Coach Carver tilted his head, dark hair falling across his forehead. “Because you’ve never skated together before. You've never skated with anyone before. Did you honestly think I’d let you two, of all people, start throwing up lifts or doing side by side spins? With my luck, one of you would end up slitting the other’s throat with your blade. On purpose.”

For a moment, Cassian wanted to argue back. To say that wasn’t true. But he couldn't. Even Nesta stayed quiet at his side. Because they both knew that everything Coach Carver was saying was far from a lie.

“So we’re going to start off with the basics,” he continued. “And to get you both used to skating together-”

“We have to skate the Dutch Waltz.” There was venom in her voice as Nesta spoke through her clenched teeth.

“You catch on quick, Ms. Archeron.” Coach Carver nodded as he started to make his way towards the boards. He stepped up to the CD player they kept on the ice, which was hooked up to the rink speakers. “When the music begins, you can start.”

Cassian’s jaw locked. Once again, he was glad it was only Rhys and Feyre on the ice. Even though he knew Rhys would never let him live it down, doing such an easy dance at his skating level - it was embarrassing. Especially when he glanced towards the other end of the ice again, only to find Rhys lifting Feyre over his head.

Nesta’s body was tense against his. She was as far away from him as she could possibly be while still holding onto one another. Her gaze was fixed straight ahead, jaw clenched shut as the music started to play.

It was a jolly little tune, something a child would enjoy skating to. That thought clearly did little to make Cassian feel better.

He tried not to pay attention to Rhys and Feyre’s questioning stares. Or to the woman holding his hand. Or the fact that said hand was burning against her hip. Instead, he swallowed his pride. He counted out the beats to the music. Then, along with Nesta, they stepped forward with their left feet.

The dance was wrong from the start.

The steps were right. The hand positions were correct. But they were so stiff, so tense as they did such simple steps together, it all felt wrong.

They made it just one full time around the ice when Coach Carver stopped the music.

“Again,” was the only word out of his month.

“What was wrong with that?” Nesta spun around so fast, her hair almost slapped Cassian in the face. It was as if all the anger and tension she was holding in finally got the best of her. “We didn’t miss one single simple step!”

“No,” Coach Carver agreed, speaking slowly, as if he were talking to a five-year-old, “But you may as well have been skating with mannequins. Do you honestly think you’ll be able to pull off any pair moves if you’re both as stiff as boards?”

Nesta drew in a sharp breath, eyes closed. “This is so fucking pointless.”

“Perhaps, Ms. Archeron,” Coach Carver’s voice was as sharp as a knife. “But we will continue to do this dance until I say you can stop. I don’t care if it takes an hour or a week. So I suggest you get a move on.”

As much as Cassian didn’t like the idea of skating the dance, he knew Coach Carver meant every word. Therefore, before Nesta could say something to truly get her in trouble, he stepped forward.

“Come on, Nesta.” He reached forward and grabbed her upper arm, only to have her pull it out of his grasp.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped at him, grey eyes swirling with a building storm.

At her tone, Cassian couldn't help but narrow his own eyes at her, blood racing through his veins.

“We’re skating partners now.” His voice was low as he spoke. “So not touching you is going to be pretty damn hard to do.”

The tension between them was so thick that Cassian could almost see it. But he kept his gaze locked with hers. He wanted her to know he wasn’t going to take it, being walked all over and snapped at. It wasn’t the Nesta Archeron show anymore. She wasn’t alone anymore. No, it was the two of them from then on. She was going to have to learn to accept that.

After the longest moment, Nesta took the smallest glide backwards, eyes made of ice.

She didn’t say anything, however. She didn’t say sorry or yell back at him. She simply skated back towards the blue line. Standing there, waiting with her head held high.

Taking in a long deep breath, Cassian glanced at Coach Carver once more before making his way over to Nesta, only one thought running through his mind:

This woman is going to be the death of me.

——————–

Note: The Dutch Waltz is one of the first figure skating dances you learn in Canada. It’s part of the Skate Canada program. Therefore I’m not 100% sure if it’s the same in the States or anywhere else in the world. So I’m sorry if this little bit of the story is incorrect to some people.

453 notes · View notes

banjofeed · 7 years

Note

bruises, scratches or piercings, your pick!

((Also on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12141195/chapters/28295736 ))

cw: violence and slurs in the first part

((High School AU))

Chapter Text

Prompt: bruises, scratches or piercings, your pick!

Walking home alone was once a very familiar feeling to Shane. He was used to the loneliness and solemn quiet as the occasional car past, the shouts of friends walking behind him. But then Ryan, his old neighbor and best childhood friend suddenly came back to his life after moving away for five years. Now he was used to Ryan’s wheezy laugh mixing with his own as they argued about stupid things and made jokes at each other. Being alone on the trip again made him uneasy. Maybe he should’ve just waited for Ryan to finish talking to their english teacher. Ryan told him to just go on without him, he could catch up if it didn’t take long. Shane could hear the shouts of people behind him as he turned onto his street; he ignored it and fidgeted with his books. He knew that he and Ryan were the only ones that walked down this street, so when he didn’t hear the voices fade to the other direction, he started getting nervous. He turned his head slightly to glance at whoever was behind him. Three boys, two of them in his grade, one of them was a year above him. They liked to cause trouble, and he’d gotten tripped or catcalled by them more than once. He was a bit of a nerd, and they liked to pick on him cause he liked to read some… okay fairly weird topics, like history and crime stories. It hadn’t gotten better when they discovered that he liked boys. The fact that they were here wasn’t a good sign, and Ryan wasn’t here with him this time to scare them off with his leather jacket and piercings and buffer body. Shane let his long legs carry him faster, hoping that maybe he could stay away from them. They seemed to notice, however, and started jeering at him. Ignore it, just ignore it, just get home… THUMP. Shane winced as he felt something hit his back. He didn’t stop, but glaced at the ground, where a pebble was rolling to a stop. He was getting scared now. He’d heard the rumors about them and what they’ve done. He had to get out of there before anything else happened. He clenched his books and took off into a sprint, trying to get away from the shouts and following footsteps. They were running after him, and one of them was gaining on him. He felt one moment of panic as he felt the boy grab his bookbag before he was pulled forcefully backwards. He threw his hand backwards to brace his fall, his palms burning like fire as they hit the asphalt and slid. The wind was knocked out of him as he landed on his bookbag, his head knocking against the road. He could do nothing but try to breath and see straight as the other two joined the boy. He tried to roll over, and was met with a foot to his side. He coughed and tried the other way, getting another hard kick. He managed to curl himself into a ball as they kept kicking him, jeering the whole time. It stopped suddenly, and he only had a moment of relief before he was dragged upwards by his collar. “Suck any dicks lately, faggot?” the older boy spit in his face. “W-why are you…” Shane choked out.

“Why the fuck not? Not like anyone is gonna stop us,” the boy laughed.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, fucker.” a voice sounded behind them.

The familiar voice sounded like an angel to Shane’s ears. He was thrown to the ground as they got ready to face this new addition.

“How about you get out of here and don’t touch my friend again?” Ryan threatened darkly.

“Fuck, dude, he has a knife!” one of them said fearfully, taking off back towards the main road.

The other two took off after him after a moment, and Shane just laid his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the peace.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Shane…” Ryan murmured as he knelt beside him. “I shouldn’t have told you to go alone.”

“It’s not like you knew,” Shane rasped, his throat closed from fear and shock.

“Do you think you’ll be able to walk?” Ryan asked, hesitant to touch Shane.

Shane sat up slowly, wincing. He grit his teeth and made himself stand through the pain, and Ryan placed himself under Shane’s arm so that he could support him, holding Shane’s books under his own arm.

“Do you wanna go to my house?” Ryan offered.

Shane nodded, “My parents probably aren’t home yet, but I don’t want them to see this.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Ryan said under his breath.

There was a moment of silence, with only the birds and the breeze making any noise as they walked to their houses. Shane furrowed his brow and looked down at Ryan. “Did you really have a knife?”

Ryan met his gaze with a cocky grin, “Yeah, I always carry one. You can’t be too careful in the big city, or the suburbs, I guess.”

There was a time when Shane knew everything about Ryan. He was a scaredy-cat, but he always wanted to look for ghosts behind their houses and around the town. He liked bears but was scared of them too, and he was adamant that they would beat a shark in a fight. He would laugh about almost anything, and he would cling to Shane’s arm if he was scared. Then he moved away from their small town and to a big city in the summer before they started 7th grade. Then right before Shane was going into the junior year, he came back with a punk-rock attitude and piercings. He was still very much the same as Shane had known him, but this new Ryan just kept surprising him. He was honestly surprised that Ryan still wanted to hang out with him. He was just the weird tall kid who was sometimes funny in class. But Ryan stayed with him after all this time.

Shane couldn’t keep his eyes off of Ryan’s face. What did he do to deserve him?

Ryan looked up at him, and met Shane’s gaze. He smiled, “You’re gonna be okay, dude. If they try to mess with you again, I’ll kill them… Maybe I’m kidding.”

Shane giggled at Ryan’s morbid humor, one of the things they shared in common. If their shared look was a moment too long, neither of them mentioned it. Shane looked away, his gaze falling onto his scratched palms, and he gingerly rubbed them together to try and get some of the dirt off them. Ryan made an almost guttural noise, and Shane looked back up to see Ryan’s deathly glare directed at his hurt hands.

“Ryan?” he asked, confused.

Ryan shook his head, letting out a harsh breath. “Why would they even do something like that to you? What did you ever do to those jerks?”

Shane bit his lip for a moment. Ryan didn’t know. He hadn’t known how to tell him that he was gay, or how he would react. Maybe it would be better to go ahead and say it now…

“I don’t know, I guess liking boys is a federal offense to them,” Shane joked, although his strained voice gave away his nerves.

Ryan stopped. “What? Wait, are you serious?”

Shane stopped, turned only half to his friend. He couldn’t meet his gaze. “…Y…Yeah.”

There was a deadly moment of silence before Ryan started nodding. “Well… okay then… Why didn’t you tell me before?” Ryan asked, stepping back towards Shane.

They kept walking as Shane explained that he didn’t know how he’d react, and Ryan was deep in thought as he kept asking questions.

“So when did you realize-”

Shane interrupted him to point out that he was about to walk past his own driveway.

“Shut up Shane…” Ryan said, rolling his eyes as he walked back, a little sheepish. “Come on, I’ll get the first aid kit.”

Shane followed him inside as he unlocked the front door. Ryan led him to the bathroom, instructing him to sit on the edge of the tub as he reached under the sink to find the first aid kit. He sat on the toilet beside him, and Shane hadn’t realized how small Ryan’s bathroom was until just now as their legs brushed together.

“Give me your hands,” Ryan instructed, pulling out disinfectant and bandages.

Shane held up his hands, and Ryan grabbed one gently and set the other on his knee. Shane couldn’t help the slight heat in his cheeks as Ryan delicately cleaned his palm and bandaged it. “I’m guessing this is the best way to do this? I guess if nothing else, you look like a martial arts fighter and that’s pretty cool,” Ryan giggled.

Shane couldn’t help but laugh as he rolled his eyes, his face feeling like it was most definitely bright red as Ryan did started the same thing on the other hand.

After bandaging the other hand, Ryan looked over Shane, his eyes landing on Shane’s torso.

“Take your shirt off,” Ryan said with more command than Shane would have expected.

Shane just tried to keep himself together, of course Ryan wanted him to take off his shirt, he was injured, this wasn’t the start of one of his fantasies, just Ryan helping his friend out. He unbuttoned his shirt.

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s that bad. Just some bruises probably, I don’t think anything is broken.” Shane said as he slid it off his shoulders.

Ryan looked over him, and Shane was probably just thinking into it too much that Ryan’s gaze lingered a little too long.

“Yeah, I guess… should we take you to the hospital, just in case?” Ryan asked.

“No, Jesus, Ryan, I’m not dying. I’ll be fine…” Shane said.

They sat in silence for a moment, not sure what to do next.

“So… I never finished asking…. When did you realize that you liked guys?” Ryan asked a little hesitantly, not wanting to cross a line or anything.

Shane opened his mouth slightly, before closing it again. He thought for a moment before responding.

“When you left.”

Shane’s voice was soft and Ryan’s lips parted slightly, his gaze meeting Shane’s for a moment before Shane licked his lip and looked away.

“I was starting to realize that I may have liked you more than just a friend… then you told me you were leaving, and I just tried to ignore it and enjoy the time that we had left. But when you actually left, I cried a lot for a while. I wanted you back so much, and I wanted it to just be like it was. I asked a few people what I was feeling and even started searching the internet and realized that I had a crush on you…” Shane died down as he realized that he had just rambled all of the feelings that he’d felt years ago. “I… um…. Sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, dude… you had a crush on me?” Ryan asked, a soft smile on his face.

Shane couldn’t help but smile back sheepishly. “Yeah…”

Ryan was quiet for a moment before he leaned closer to Shane.

“And… what about now?”

Shane’s breath hitched in his throat as he realized how close Ryan was. Barely inches away, he could almost feel Ryan’s breath on his face. He couldn’t speak, only stare at Ryan’s dark eyes.

“You know… this whole time I was worried what you would think if I told you I liked you.” Ryan breathed.

Shane startled slightly, searching his face for any trace of joking or teasing. Ryan looked serious. His eyes flicked from Shane’s eyes to his lips. Before he knew it, Shane felt Ryan’s mouth collide with his own. Something seemed to click. This was actually happening. Ryan was kissing him.

Shane moved his own mouth, pressing back as his hands gripped Ryan’s thighs. He felt Ryan’s hands move up his bare back. Nothing else mattered anymore, he finally didn’t have to hold all of this in. They broke away for a moment for air, breathing heavily. Ryan’s eyes were dilated, and a disbelieving look on his face.

“Ryan…” Shane breathed, almost pleading for more.

Ryan looked away and pulled away for a moment. Shane felt his heart beat faster, thinking that Ryan was going to say that he didn’t like it or that he didn’t mean it or-

“Should we go to my room?”

Oh.

As soon as they closed the door, Ryan slammed him against the door, pulling Shane down to kiss him again.

“Sorry- didn’t mean- to do that- so hard-” Ryan mumbled in between kisses.

“No please, if anyone is gonna rough me up, I want it to be you.” Shane said, his voice low.

Ryan giggled before kissing him again. After a moment he pulled his lips away from Shane’s and kissed down his jawline before biting his neck. Shane gasped as Ryan began leaving his mark on him, his fingers digging into Ryan’s hips. Ryan’s hands squeezed lightly on Shane’s waist as he bit and sucked on Shane’s neck slowly.

“Ryan… mm, god damn…”

“You like that, baby?” Ryan asked softly, reaching back up to whisper in his ear.

Shane nodded, biting his lip before Ryan took over, kissing him again, biting his bottom lip. He pulled away to lead Shane to his bed.

“You are too damn tall,” Ryan said before they tumbled onto the bed, Ryan on top of Shane. They adjusted themselves so that Shane was comfortably sitting up against the headboard with Ryan straddling his lap.

Ryan took off his shirt before he kissed him again. Shane stopped, pulling away.

“Is those nipple piercings?! What the fuck?? When did you…”

Ryan laughed. “Not long after I got the tongue piercing actually.” “Jesus…” Shane breathed before he leaned towards Ryan’s chest, beginning to rub his nipples gingerly with his thumb. “Do they make it more sensitive?”

Ryan’s hitched breath and tightened grip answered it for him. He leaned Ryan back a little and took one of Ryan’s nipples in his mouth, his tongue playing with the piercing.

“Fuck, Shane…” Ryan groaned.

After a few more twirls with his tongue, he let off with a pop of his lips and did the same to his other nipple, relishing in Ryan’s gasps and groans and tightening grip.

“Shane, how far do you want to take this?” Ryan asked as they kissed again.

“As far as you want,” Shane answered, staring deep into Ryan’s eyes for a moment.

They both knew how the rest of the afternoon would be spent as their lips reconnected… Thank god Ryan’s parents weren’t coming home til six.

#shyan #skeptic believer

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