#so it's interesting how many multitudes are packed into this guy

[skippygiraffee]

Hi, I'm the Raileon anon from a while back. Thank you for answering my ask! I loved reading your thoughts, and I hope you don't mind if I ask you for some more. You mentioned Leon and Raihan were both fascinating characters to you separately as well, and I wanted to ask why you felt Raihan was fascinating? I have my own reasons ofc, but I'd be delighted to hear yours as well.

I absolutely never mind, thank you for the ask!! (even if it takes me a while to answer things sldjfksjf). genuinely I love talking about these characters, all the SWSH characters (and SuMo) really, and talking about Raihan is top tier for me. under the cut because it's both long and I have included images from the manga as little Raihan treats :3

in regards to Raihan, what a character, yeah? when I got this ask I immediately went into chat with @beammeupbroadway and we had the following exchange (she's the Furby icon, I'm the first message):

and to elaborate a little, we're all introduced to Raihan in the framing of him being Leon's rival, and we're not really reintroduced to him until midway through the game. so for a while we're left with this impression that Raihan is the hotheaded rival to Leon, setting them up with the same sort of framing as like Hop vs Bede (which is more a rivalry than with the player I argue) or even Red vs Blue (certainly with the Charizard and the color imagery at play with both Raihan and Leon's designs). Raihan is, at his core, a peek at what someone looks like when they grow up in the shadow of someone else.

it's stated in game he has different interests, hobbies, a career, but he's still Leon's rival Raihan. where his job as a Gym Leader and his work with the Hammerlocke Vault serve the narrative purpose of bringing the player closer to Leon and closer to solving the mystery of the Darkest Day, rather than things that allow us a better view of Raihan. not to discredit those moments, because they absolutely do allow us as to see more of Raihan, but I guess I want to argue that the game just uses them as a jumping off point to get to Leon. even Raihan's accomplishments as a Gym Leader and battler are framed within the context of him being so good he could be Champion of another region, but he can't beat Leon. from a world building and audience perspective I think it's interesting to see, but man, picturing that as how he's painted in Galar, in universe? where all of these insanely amazing accomplishments are pushed aside to market himself as Leon's rival I think genuinely ruined his self image, his self esteem, and the way he views anything he does. Raihan's social media presence got started because of Leon, even if he sometimes takes random pictures of sand storms, and the only thing removed from Leon is his love of fashion and history, but we don't even get to see a lot of that as the audience/player of the game because it's not relevant to the story in most cases, and definitely isn't relevant to Leon. this was definitely a little rambly, but at least right here I just think that like Raihan being literally overshadowed by Leon makes him fascinating to rotate around like a rotisserie chicken, because you take one whiff of that guy and you can tell he was spiced up with self loathing and angst strong enough to turn the average character into a straight up villain

ties to Leon aside, the little things about Raihan I adore ARE those little hobbies he has. fashion, history, social media all are super interesting, and ignoring the Gym Trainer battle with WEATHER EFFECTS INSIDE THE TAPESTRY VAULT aside it's clear he is a trusted expert on the matter. Sonia goes to him, even if it's a way to get the player closer to Leon Raihan is the one who grants access to the vault, and anyone who loves tapestries is immediately boosted in my books

his characterization in the manga is really cool, and I adore manga Raihan a lot. it's actually when I really fell in love with his character because he's given a lot of really neat moments, where he's kind of this key player in having everything come together. also he was a trouble maker when he was younger!!! which I think is a logical reaction to being pitted against the literal undefeated Champion for so long. but, allow me to picture that below:

I also love him spraying himself in the face with a potion after being poisoned by Eternatus in the manga. like yeah he's confused, but literally no other character is brought up, only Raihan which is funny to me

also him and Piers are just buddies!! which is neat, especially since in the post game of the base SWSH titles they're shown not to really have interacted that much

he's also super polite to Melony (my beloved Mummy Melony scene), and he's overall pretty fleshed out, with being both serious and goofy, while having this odd tension with Leon when it comes to serious moments

like it shows a lot of complicated things brewing under the surface for him, even in the manga, and I love how it keeps his characterization in tact, while expanding on it in a way that feels natural

I think in short, there's an argument to be made that Raihan could have been left as this one dimensional rival to Leon whose only purpose to push the player along their journey. a road block as a Gym Leader, a helper as the keeper of the vault, but nothing more. and yet he's a pretty fleshed out character, who has other stuff going for him. he could be so many things, and yet he's Raihan, the dragon guy who loves fashion, is a bit silly, but also takes things as serious as they need to be taken. who had a bit of a rebellious streak when he was younger, to the point Rose knows about it in depth. where, in game, he can flip from smiling like :3 to hunching over in the stadium yelling out moves. he's cool, like undeniably, but also not, and I love that skdjfklsfd. I think Raihan is a testament to the subtle ways the Pokemon writers can dish out characterization without explicitly writing things in, and I love him for it

[girl-lostconnection]

Fun fact the drone helmet vaguely reminds me of a dog’s dead shape yk?? And what are Helldivers if not Superearth’s loyal and courageous attack dogs against the bugs, bots and squids. Anywho, which faction does reader usually go after when there isn’t a major order to obey? Would they usually fight on the bug, bot or squid front?

Either way, they’re all undemocratic and deserve it /j 

Jester, you brilliant madman, you are so right. I never actually paid attention to it specifically but now that you are saying…yeah, hell yeah it does.

And it’s so interesting that drone’s armour description also says that users noticed some discrepancies while being near technology.

On the topic of Helldivers being attack dogs, 100 times yes, they are trained like dogs, they are expected to achieve the goal or die trying, they are placed in ridiculous conditions and timeframes. And they still push forward no matter the cost of it.

Attack dogs/Dogs in general are a great analogy to the way Helldivers are.

Honestly from what I saw, it is pretty accurate.

There are these big menacing divers on 100-150th levels that always come down whenever there is an SOS beacon. Honestly these guys were super patient with me in my early days and helped me with many of missions. So they’d be the alpha dogs of the pack — quickly reinforcing, calling down supplies and actually sharing, waiting up for everyone and kind of carrying you by the scruff of your neck to extraction point. Love these guys.

There are cadets who just joined and god, do they resemble puppies who learn how to do everything. Including walking, seeing and shooting. No judgement though, we all were them. Mysteriously they are also the ones I can find on any mission. It’s like when you move the fridge and here he is, looking at you like you are the one who’s weird for staring.

There are packs of divers, teams that are alright tight-knit and they always dive down together as a pack. There are duos of divers, I call them bonded pairs in my head because wherever one goes — the other follows. They die together as well, most of the time.

But I got a bit carried away.

As for Helldiver!Reader they prefer to stay with bugs because these may be some really nasty bastards but at least they can’t wield a gun. Also they don’t resemble humans so just psychologically it’s easier for Reader to go after bugs.

No matter how many of those are there, they are the most alien looking, not humanoid in the slightest. And therefore they don’t invoke the same uncanny feeling Reader gets after getting through level 10 dive and looking around just to see bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies.

After a little too much time down on the battlefield, armoured Helldivers and bots start looking a little too much alike. It unnerves Reader, makes them feel wrong.

But illuminati are actually the missions they avoid most of the time. You see, bots may resemble humans. But illuminati WERE humans and after multitude of missions with them Reader makes a decision just to stray clear of that sector.

After all there are plenty of other Helldivers who prefer Illuminati to anyone else (let’s not think about divers who dive on a mission to their home planets and hometowns and who can encounter people they knew turned into mindless voteless hoard)

[amethysttribble]

Lol very relatable. I'm not sure if I remember what I put.

You had: Elwing, Earendil, Feanorions, Nerdanel, Denethor of the Laiquendi and Gen for ships.

Okay, it’s done, thank you for your patience! Sorry it took a day longer than anticipated, i started this and swiftly realized I was finding it difficult to differentiate between headcanon and characterization, and I don’t want to step on your toes in any way. 

So as to not railroad, I decided to mention a few odds and ends that tend to be consistent things I include in my portrayals of these characters? But please, use them for inspiration as you desire and discard what you don’t find helpful or interesting.

What I love so much about these exchanges is how people take prompts and make them their own! I hope this is helpful, though, let me know if you need anything else, thank you!

Alright, to business!!!

Elwing&Earendil: They are a set, do not separate, lol

When Earendil first came to Siren, mute and deeply traumatized, Elwing would often walk him away from the other noisy children when he was overwhelmed, and they’d silently play at the beach together.

Earendil feels the call of Men, ever the explorer, ever curious, he wants to know. Elwing fears everything Mannish and Maia about herself, having been brutally cut off from that part of that heritage when Dior died, and desperately wishes she could just be a /normal/ Elf. 

They got ‘married’ entirely on accident, the Elvish way, because they thought that maybe there was enough Mannish blood between them that they wouldn’t bond. They were wrong. Their guardians were furious. They were already engaged so this was all very funny within a few weeks, though

Though they’ve found new support networks in Valinor, they both very desperately miss the multitude of friends and family they left behind in Sirion, all together, all finding happiness amidst the end of the world. They know it’s selfish, but if you were to ask them when and where they would live, they would have picked that beset-upon refugee camp for the rest of time.

Earendil and Elwing exchanged so many letters with Elros and Elrond during the Second Age. 

Nerdanel: I tried to make these as not husband/son related as practical!

Only child in theory, but not in practice, because her parents had a tendency to have upwards of five young people in their house learning their respective crafts at any give time.

She was the one who used to get Feanor is so much trouble, all the time, as she was raised free-range and he was very sheltered. She was the reckless one, up until he learned the ropes of incautious adventure, that is and the it was off to the races.

Part of Elven craft is infusing one’s art with one’s fea, and Nerdanel is to this day the master of this, because she is able to not only use her spirit to make her work come alive, she’s able to make that spirit mimic and feel like her model.

While she has always hated court and the trappings therein, every time she has made an appearance to speak her mind in Tirion, it always created waves. 

Still very close with her children’s spouses in Valinor, especially Curufin’s wife.

Denethor: I forgot I added him, which is insane to me now, because I remember the exact thought process I had when it came to picking which was, "oh! maybe adding my guy who barely exists in the story but exists so much in my head would be fun."

When Lenwe decided to halt before the mountains, Denethor agreed with him wholeheartedly, it was only over the course of time that he started to wonder, what was it like beyond? What would happen if they kept going?

Overjoyed to find Elwe and Elmo once they made it to Beleriand, as they were really good friends, especially Elmo as they are more of an age

A serious person, and a leader by trade, but in a way that stems from protective instincts rather than natural charisma or drive. A herd the flock rather than lead the pack kind of person (which, incidentally, meant he never really got along with Finwe)

I tend to imagine that he had three children (Glaudir, Nimphel, and Sidhel), all of whom were equally disinclined to follow in his footsteps as King/Queen after his death. This, coupled with Denethor’s memory being so beloved to the Laiquendi, meant his people swore to never take another king again, and they stuck by this.

Once he was reborn in Valinor, he resolved himself towards a nice retirement in the woods, and then immediately, unconsciously, accidentally, ended up starting his won kingdom that eventually became large enough that the Valar acknowledged him as a ruler of equal status to Olwe, Arafinwe, and Ingwe.

He was the only one surprised by this development.

The Boys: I have approximately twelve thousand bazillion head canons for the Son of Feanor between the seven of them and several thousands words worth of headcanon filled fics, so I think I’ll just do one for each?

Maedhros: Control Freak™. As the situation in Beleriand gets worse, so do his methods of exercising his need for control.

Maglor: Not naturally good with kids, never wanted kids, and in Valinor would have told you he hated kids. It’s a testament to him and the effort he put in that Elrond and Elros loved him so.

Celegorm: Deeply practical person, who never leaves any part of a kill unused but- before the Bragollach- never fails to pray in hopes that if they just hold out long enough...

Caranthir: In any given situation, he has three modes: 1) Looks deranged, is actually completely reasonable, 2) Looks completely reasonable, actually completely deranged, and 3) Bitch.

Curufin: Everything he makes in the forge is beautiful, to the point where his detail work is technically better than both Feanor and Celebrimbor. But whatever that spark is Feanor and Celebrimbor have that they infuse in their works- that touch of the divine, the beyond- is just not with him, and this haunts him.

Amras: When it comes to the actual kinslaying, he is the most brutal, bar none.

Amrod: I prefer the Shibboleth fate for him, but even not in that version, I think he struggles the most with the actual morality of their actions, to the point where is destroys him long before his death at Sirion.

[mimisempai]

You are making every day a little less ordinary

Summary:

During one of their usual lunches in the TVA cafeteria, Casey, curious about his friend's datinf life, wonders what a date between Mobius and Loki is like. Loki remembers and recounts his most memorable dates.

Or

5 times where Mobius surprises Loki and once where Loki returns the favor

Notes:

Tumblr request : 5+1 about their dates with one being a picinic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32863855

3042 words - Rating G

"Hey Loki, mind if I ask you a question?"

Casey and Loki were eating lunch in the TVA cafeteria, as they regularly did. Loki was still surprised at how Casey had somehow grown fond of him, where many people kept their distance. Which he couldn't blame them for, given his past.

So he was enjoying these moments with Casey.

"Since when do you need to ask?"

Casey looked a little hesitant, "well, it's a little bit of a personal question."

"Go on and shoot." Loki replied, curious as to what the man was going to ask him.

"Ahem... you and Mobius are together."

"I think that's obvious, since we don't hide it."

"Yeah, yeah, and so considering it's been over a year, um... I guess... you guys have dated already... and uh... I have a hard time imagining what you and Mobius can do on a date." Casey paused, his cheeks on fire before continuing, "No, forget it. I should never have asked you something like that."

Loki shook his head and laughed, "No, no, I have no problem talking about this. You're talking to someone who didn't even know what a date was until a few months ago..."

Loki straightened up a bit in his chair and continued talking, "Looking back, I'd say our first date took place here."

"Here?"

1.

After their return from Pompeii, Loki had fallen asleep in the middle of their research. Mobius had woken him up and taken him to the cafeteria. Thinking back, even if at that moment they were not together, for Loki it was still a first date.

There were only them in the cafeteria, the light was rather dim, which had given even more of an impression of intimacy and in addition there was the close way they were sitting, their legs touching.

Loki remembered perfectly all the details of that moment.

Those few minutes of respite, where they had gotten to know each other, or rather where Loki had gotten to know Mobius.

"By the way, at your desk, that magazine?"

"Yeah. The one on jet skis?"

"Yes. Why do you have that?"

"Because they're awesome."

There was something touching about Mobius as he spoke of his passion, a passion he had never practiced.

"So, why read about them?"

"It just helps remind me of what we're fighting for."

"I mean, you really believe in all this stuff, don't you?"

"I don't get hung up on, "Believe, not believe." I just accept what is."

He was surprised by what followed, not by the content, because it was clear that Mobius really believed in the cause he was working for, but he was surprised that Mobius did not feel attacked, that they both left the dialogue open, without judgment.

"Actually it's exactly the same thing. Because if you think too hard about where any of us came from, who we truly are, it sounds kinda ridiculous. Existence is chaos. Nothing makes any sense, so we try to make some sense of it. And I'm just lucky that the chaos I emerged into gave me all this... My own glorious purpose."

Mobius' arguments, in the context in which Mobius lived, had held up surprisingly well.

They had not agreed, but they respected each other's opinions. If not for the context, of Loki in captivity of sorts, and the lie upon which the TVA had been built, the evening could almost have ended in "My place or yours." Because undoubtedly they had gotten closer at that point.

So yes, it was indeed for Loki their first date and that's what he told Casey.

**********

"Honestly Loki, I have to say that this is an original first date, but ultimately a true reflection of your couple." reacted Casey with a wink before continuing, "but now I'm curious what your other dates were like, if there were any at all."

Loki laughed softly, "Oh there were, many. Mobius, knowing that the concept of a date was totally unknown to me, redoubled his creativity and used this pretext to make me live all sorts of unknown experiences."

"You don't want me to feel sorry for you, do you?"

Loki smiled again, "Oh no, I have nothing to complain about at all. I'll tell you the most memorable ones for me. One of them was a picnic."

"Oh?" Casey's eyes sparkled with interest, as he settled down to listen to Loki's tale.

2.

Loki was reading on the couch when Mobius hugged him from behind, kissing the top of his head.

Then Mobius had said in his ear, "Sweetheart, don't be scared, I'm going to blindfold you, because I'd like to take you somewhere and keep it a surprise until the end."

Loki trusted Mobius completely so it was easy for him to agree.

"I'm really curious though."

Once the blindfold was tied, he felt the light caress of a kiss on his lips and Mobius took his hand.

He let himself be guided.

He heard the typical sound of a timedoor appearing, and then letting himself be pulled by Mobius' hand, he recognized the usual sensation that accompanied the crossing of the door.

He felt a difference in the ground under his feet, like grass perhaps.

Deprived of sight, his other senses were alert, so he also felt the warmth of the sun on his face and the smell of flowers reached his nostrils, while he heard birds chirping around them.

Mobius was now holding him by the elbow and guiding him gently.

"You still okay, sweetheart?"

Loki simply nodded, a smile on his face because he could feel the excitement in his lover's voice.

After a while, Mobius stopped him, and made him sit slowly on the floor, on something soft. Then Mobius gently removed the blindfold.

Loki's eyes adjusted to the radiant light even though they were in shadow, and he took in the sight.

77_Frigga... the little planet Mobius had already taken him to when Loki had told him he missed the starry skies of Asgard.

Loki looked around, he was sitting on a blanket spread on the ground, under a tree that while providing shade, did not deprive them of the beautiful light. They were in a field of flowers, the same paradisiacal vision as on their first visit here. Mobius sat next to him and clearly waited for his reaction.

Loki leaned in and put his lips to Mobius', letting him know in a slow, passionate kiss how much he enjoyed his surprise.

Mobius turned to a basket that Loki hadn't noticed and began to pull out everything needed for a perfect picnic.

"Did you pack all this?" Mobius nodded his head and Loki kissed him gently again.

They enjoyed the meal peacefully, chatting about everything and anything. Once the leftovers were put away, Loki lay down on his back, his head on Mobius' lap

"Thanks love, that was amazing."

Mobius, a little embarrassed, leaned over and kissed him tenderly.

They had finished the afternoon while enjoying the heavenly surroundings and each other's presence.

**********

Loki lost in his memories, was brought out of his reverie by Casey's whisper of admiration, "Aww, Mobius is really dedicated, you know you are lucky right?"

"Don't worry Casey, I'm totally aware of how lucky I am."

This reminded him, another original date, another surprise from Mobius that he was quick to tell Casey about

3.

Sounds from the kitchen woke Loki from his sleep. He stretched, shivering because the sheet had slipped down to his waist.

"You're awake."

Loki looked up to find Mobius smiling at him, standing by the bedroom door, dressed in just sweatpants and a t-shirt, his longer hair still disheveled and a budding beard. A perfect view to start the day, in Loki's opinion.

What caught his eye was the tray in his hands.

Mobius moved closer, carefully perching himself on the bed and balancing the tray on his lap.

"I wanted to surprise you." Mobius smiled, offering the tray to Loki and laughing affectionately as he watched him contort himself to sit up. "Breakfast in bed or let's call it a breakfast date. I thought it would be a nice change, since it's our day off."

Loki's mouth suddenly watered between what he saw and what he smelled.

Usually they had a light breakfast, but on days off, getting up later, breakfast also served as lunch.

On the tray was a plate of bacon and eggs, buttered toast, a small pile of pancakes covered in syrup, a large glass of orange juice, and an assortment of fresh fruit.

"Oh Love, you spoil me." said Loki, a piece of pancake already in his mouth.

Mobius shakes his head with a small laugh. "I always want to spoil you."

Loki leaned forward to capture Mobius' lips in a sweet kiss. Mobius took the opportunity to sneak his hand through Loki's hair and pulled him to him while being careful not to flip the tray.

When they separated, Loki was out of breath.

"Let's eat."

Mobius sat next to Loki, the tray resting on their knees. They ate breakfast, talking, feeding each other.

Later, Loki hummed over one last incredibly delicious bite, his head resting on Mobius' shoulder.

Definitely, this dating concept was quite interesting.

*********

"Okay Loki, thanks to you, now I'm hungry." Casey paused for a moment and then resumed staring Loki up and down, "But I wonder where you put it all..."

Loki replied with a mischievous smile, " Workout, Casey, workout..." His impish look left no doubt as to what kind of workout he was referring to.

Casey pretended to cover his ears. "I don't want to hear about it!"

Loki chuckled, "Too bad you won't hear about another memorable date of ours."

Casey, calmed down, too interested in what was next.

4.

"Uh, wow, that's... that's gorgeous." said Loki, looking around their living room.

The entire room was bathed in a soft glow from a multitude of small candles, scattered here and there.

"Do you like it?" the voice of Mobius whispered in his ear as his lover took off his jacket, before hugging him from behind.

"Hmm." Loki nodded in the embrace.

"I figured we both needed a little break, are you hungry?"

"I'm starving." replied Loki turning his head to drop a kiss on Mobius' cheek.

His lover directed him to the table that Loki had not noticed, perfectly set, bathed in soft light, and garnished with two steaming plates and glasses of fresh wine.

Mobius gallantly pulled out the chair for him to sit on and took a seat opposite him.

They began to eat, discussing their day, their work, and all the while hardly letting go of each other's hands that were entwined on the table.

Then after the dessert, Mobius got up, took the remote control of the music system and a soft music invaded the atmosphere. Under the eyes of Loki, he approached him and offered his hand, « May I have this dance, sweetheart?"

Loki nodded, smiling softly, and took the outstretched hand. Mobius immediately wrapped his arms around him and they began to sway to the soft notes coming from the speakers.

Loki sighed with contentment, his face buried in Mobius' neck.

They must have looked like the epitome of sap and fluff, but at that moment, Loki didn't care. This was them, here, in the privacy of their lives. Their happiness.

They continued to sway for long moments, so absorbed in each other's presence that they didn't notice that the music had stopped.

**********

"Loki... you know I just feel like I'm listening to a digest of all the romcoms out there?"

"Romcom?"

"Romantic comedy.Haha I know something you don't."

Casey laughed cheerfully at Loki.

"Very funny, but do you know what karaoke is?"

"Yep... I'll remind you, since the fish thing, I've been catching up, and I'm learning every day. So what about karaoke?" Casey frowned for a moment and then exclaimed, "No! Karaoke? Who? Mobius or you? Or both?"

Loki chuckled at Casey's excitement.

"Mobius came up with the idea for the date, but I did the singing.

"Tell me about it!"

5.

"Mobius..."

Loki stood on the stage of the small bar, and pointed to his lover leaning at the bar, "Mobius, my partner, brought me here because he dreams of hearing me sing in my native language for him. No one will be able to say I don't like to satisfy my beloved." He blew a fingertip kiss to Mobius under the whistling and wolf howls of the customers. He waved to the DJ and the music started to play. He began to sing in Asgardian, the words and notes flowing naturally on his tongue.

So many people around me without a meaning or a goal

It's always someone left

Tell me, why does it always be like that

Someone from up above must have seen me

And yet thought that it's his turn,

my turn to meet someone who knows what I need

it seems like my lonely days

For its always gone

As he sang this, he began to walk towards Mobius, his eyes in his. He saw the understanding in Mobius' eyes, who, understanding perfectly all languages, grasped perfectly the meaning of the song for Loki and him.

For I have the heaven around the corner

My own angel in a bed

As if all the heavens tiny stars

Sang for me, sang for you

In a wonderful refrain

You are the heaven

around the corner for me

When he reached the end of the song, Mobius' eyes were filled with emotion.

As soon as the last note came out of his mouth, Loki hugged Mobius and kissed him, ignoring the cheers and applause of the customers.

When they separated to catch their breath, Mobius asked him, his forehead against his, in a joking tone, « Am I your own angel?"

Loki grasped his head in his hands and replied seriously, his mouth against his, "You are Mobius. You are the angel that brought me out of my darkness. You saved me from myself." Then he captured his lover's lips again, putting into the kiss all what Mobius meant to him.

**********

"Loki, I think I'll be fine, I think I've had my fill of sweets for the day, if not for the next month. If I get diabetes, you'll be responsible for it."

Loki laughed again and shrugged, "Hey! You're the one who wanted it."

"Well, at least you have a lot of work to do to be on the same level as him, because apart from the karaoke, he still made the most effort."

Loki smiled cheekily, "Hm, I think I made up for it with our one-year anniversary date, but since you don't want any more sweetness... I'll shut up."

Casey pointed his fingers at him, "Ah no Mr. God of Mischief, you're not getting away with this!"

Loki surrendered and began his last tale.

+1

This time it was Loki who had surprised Mobius by blindfolding him and leading him through a timedoor.

When they reached their destination, he slowly untied the blindfold, "You can open your eyes, love."

Mobius opened his eyes and gasped. Then he laughed softly.

Loki hugged him from behind and whispered in his ear, "Happy Anniversary my love. It was here a year ago that I started to fall in love with you."

They were in the TVA cafeteria. Alone, because Loki had made sure of that.

A table, THE table was elegantly set.

Mobius let himself be guided by Loki, who said softly, "I know it's unconventional, that we weren't a couple yet, not at all, but-"

He could not continue, Mobius had closed his mouth with a tender kiss.

Pulling back, he placed a finger on Loki's lips and replied, "Don't justify yourself.First of all, since when are we conventional?" he raised an eyebrow before continuing, "Secondly, you weren't the only one who was already feeling something at that moment sweetheart."

It was he who pulled Loki to the table.

They sat there, almost the same way they had that day, their knees touching in a familiar way. But this time the rest of their bodies were close. They shared the meal, interspersed with renewed oaths, smiles and casual conversation. Just savoring the joy of being together.

Mobius noticed, however, that the closer they got to the end of the meal, the more excited Loki seemed, almost as if he couldn't wait for the dinner to end. So much that once the last bite of dessert was swallowed, he stood up and bounced over to Mobius and held out his hand.

"Our night is not over, I have one more surprise. Can I put the blindfold back on you?"

Amused and intrigued by Loki's excitement, Mobius nodded.

Loki tied the blindfold behind his head, placed a kiss on his forehead and took his hand.

He felt them pass through a timedoor again, then suddenly felt a great warmth around him. He recognized Loki's magic that passed over him, and suddenly felt warm sand under his naked feet.

The blindfold came off and he let his eyes adjust to the light.

For the second time that evening, he gasped, and then almost cried with emotion at the sight before him.

He realized he was in a bathing suit when Loki made him put on a life jacket. Then his lover gently pushed him towards the jetski that was waiting for him at the end of the pontoon. "Go my love, go..."

He moved forward a few steps and then turned back to Loki who was looking at him with a loving smile. "And you? Don't you want to come?"

"You deserve to have your first round alone, don't worry, I'll be there."

Winking at him, Loki pointed to two lounge chairs under an umbrella.

"Go my love."

Loki went backwards to settle on the deckchair and with a cocktail in hand, he did not leave the eyes of his lover who listened to the instructions of the instructor before finally making his first ride of jet-ski.

Long minutes later, he saw Mobius coming towards him, a bright smile on his face, he whispered again, "Happy Anniversary my love."

________

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

Song used for the karaoke date : Himlen runt hörnet by Lisa Nilsson

Whole series of oneshot here : X

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 13)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Billy Russo x Reader Word Count: 2663 Warnings: fluff, light angst, brief mention of smut

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: I’m still sorry... or am I? 😂

PART 12 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Sunlight filters in through the part of the window not blocked by opaque curtains, the golden glow reaches Billy’s eyes making him throw an arm up to block out the brightness. He’s careful of his movements, not to disturb you as you sleep against him.

He had a good time last night bowling and meeting all your friends but when you accepted his offer to come back to his place that was when the real fun began. In the comfort of his apartment you sat curled against him on his couch, feeling warmth spread through your body from the amber colored drink in your hand, though Billy was more intoxicating.

You quickly found your way into his bed, tangled together as your hands and lips explored every part of each other until you reached soaring heights of passion and pleasure. Billy was an incredible lover and you hadn’t thought that simply because he had broken your dry spell. He knew how to please and did so generously. You didn’t intend on staying over but truthfully your legs felt like jelly afterwards you couldn’t do anything but stay beside him, falling asleep in his arms.

Billy puts his arm down, shifting just a little so he could face away from the sunlight, the slight movement unintentionally waking you. He felt bad, watching as your heavy lids blinked themselves open a few times before they focused on his beautiful smile.

“Sorry, go back to sleep babe,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

A smile pulled at your lips as you felt the soft lingering touch of his lips. “S’okay, I want to stay awake.”

Billy smiled at the soft noises you made as you took in a stiff inhale of breath, your body tensing up as you turned away from him, bringing your hand to cover your mouth as you yawned. The feel of morning breath was heavy on your tongue so you decided to go to the bathroom, hoping there would be mouthwash you could freshen up with.

Goosebumps prickled at your skin when you pulled off the sheets, sitting up as you scanned the floor for your clothes that had been scattered around the room amidst the throes of passion. Billy’s eyes roamed your bare skin, memories of last night bring warmth to his body, feeling himself ache for you again the longer he stared.

You spotted your sweater, pushing yourself up from the low platform bed to grab the crumbled fabric from the floor, stretching it over your skin. Beside it was your pants though you picked up your lacy bottoms and stepped into them before leaving his room to find the bathroom.

Billy leaned back against the arm he folded under his head, not feeling like getting up to find his phone wherever he last left it. He didn’t need to distract himself anyway since you walked back in, slightly shivering as your bare feet walked along the cold floors.

“C’mere,” he said, pulling back the blanket.

As you began to get back in bed your movements were halted by “nuh uh” as Billy shook his head. “No clothes in bed, it’s the rules.” He smirked, sitting up towards the edge of the bed.

A giggle escaped your lips as you moved towards Billy’s side of the bed, standing in front of him. His hands went under your sweater, holding you firmly by your waist.

“Those are the rules, huh?” You repeated, grinning coyly as you let your hands glide up his arms, caressing his smooth skin until your fingers met a raised ridge along his left shoulder.

Your brows furrowed with concern as you stared at another scar on his chest, having missed both in the dimmed lighting last night. They were clearly old but by the way Billy’s jaw tensed you suspected they weren’t fully healed.

His dark gaze wandered as he focused on something behind you, his trance dissolving from the sound of your sweet voice saying his name.

“There was… this guy, Arthur. He volunteered at the Ray of Hope group home I was in. We all thought he was so cool, playin’ stickball and hoops with us. I was ten or eleven at the time.” Billy clenched his jaw, clearing his throat of the lump that formed there.

His hands dropped into his lap and he began wringing them. “When a grown man tells you that you’re pretty you know nothing good is coming. Let’s just say I wasn’t interested in the kind of games that he had in mind. I went after him with the stickball bat, caught him a few times before he broke my arm… ripped my rotator cuff in three places.”

You had been listening quietly as Billy spoke, not realizing you were holding your breath until his hand cupped your cheek and you let it out shakily. His story wasn’t new– no, unfortunately you had heard about this situation too many times but despite being familiar with this in your line of work Billy’s story really affected you.

No matter who the person or what their story is, you care deeply about all the cases you have from Metro-General but Billy was different. You really liked him and hearing him talk about the terrible memories from his past reminded you about Pietro and what could have happened if someone had been there to help. Growing up in the system is hard enough as it is, but if the caretakers aren’t doing their job to protect these children…

Sighing, your lips flattened into a line of frustration. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Billy.”

“Hey… don’t, okay?” His hands wrapped around your waist as he looked up to meet your sympathetic eyes. “Everyone’s got a story, this one’s mine.”

His lips stretched across his face into something that wasn’t quite a smile but not a frown either. You knew it wasn’t easy to share, something he clearly can’t forget though you appreciated his openness, feeling closer because of it.

Leaning down you cupped Billy’s cheeks, feeling his scruff scratch at your palms as you placed a gentle kiss to his lips. You felt him smile against you as he kissed back, his hands grabbing the hem of your sweater and breaking the kiss for him to pull it over your head.

Billy kissed your exposed skin, softly, slowly as he laid you down on the bed. His touch was like heaven, setting fire to your soul, and together you climbed higher and higher until you reached the apex of pleasure a few more times over.

You got home late in the afternoon knowing you had a novel’s worth of texts to return from your friends, mainly the girls wanting to know all the details. Bucky’s was the only text that you replied to right away. He hoped you would get home safe, and behind your shared wall he let out a sigh of relief, reading your message that you did, even if it meant you were only getting home now.

Bucky shuffled reluctantly to his door, wondering why there’s a knock. Looking through the peephole, he can’t help but let a smile stretch over his face.

“Hey neighbor!” you said, with a beaming smile.

He hadn’t seen you in a few days, throwing himself deep into his work, thankful for the distraction. “Hey Y/N.” Bucky takes note of what you’re wearing, a comfy hoodie and oversized polar bear pajama pants. You always had the cutest pajamas.

“You busy? I was gonna watch a movie and order a bunch of food since my period came and all I want to do is eat. Sorry was that TMI?” you asked, seeing his expression change in a multitude of ways.

He let out a slightly uncomfortable laugh. “Where’s Billy?”

“Working.”

Bucky wasn’t happy with that answer, making him feel like you were settling for plans with him since Billy was busy. He was about to decline, making up a lie about anything just so he didn’t have to feel bad about himself before you continued.

“But I’d rather hang with you anyway. Not that Billy would care about my period like that but, I don’t know, we’re not at that point yet, you know? Like I feel like I can always be myself around you.”

His blank expression turned into a smile as Bucky nodded his head. “Yeah, yeah I get that. I feel the same about you.”

Bucky felt a weird sensation in his stomach as he stood there smiling at you, breaking out of his trance as you spoke again.

“Okay so hurry up and come over. I don’t know what I want to eat. I kinda want tacos, but also pizza. And if you have cookies bring them over because I already ate the ones I had.”

It felt right, sitting beside you on the couch, stuffing your faces and laughing as you watched a movie. Bucky took it upon himself to grab the bottle of Advil from your bathroom, bringing over a full glass of water for you to take for your cramps.

“Thanks. You know, I know you hate relationships and stuff but you’d make a really good boyfriend.”

Bucky was frozen, the only sound he could hear was that of his heart drumming rapidly in his ear. “Y-you think so?” he croaked out, swallowing down the thick knot in his throat with a gulp of his drink.

You nodded, leaning forward to set the glass down on your table. “Why, you don’t?”

“No, that’s… That’s not it.” He turned away from you, silent and contemplative.

It wasn’t always like this. Bucky was a young boy that grew out of the idea that girls had cooties long before his friends did. It started with Olivia. They met in sixth grade, two nervous kids in a brand new school that happened to sit next to each other in homeroom.

Her eyes were like honey and Bucky was stuck, letting himself get lost in her beauty. He memorized the freckles speckled across the nose and cheeks of her sandy brown skin like a galaxy of stars, each one more dazzling than the last. Her hair was polished bronze packed in tight corkscrews that Bucky loved brushing aside so he could kiss her; every morning before they got to class, during lunch where he neglected his food in favor of her lips, and after school when they parted.

Bucky loved her as much as a young man could love a young woman, his first love, the girl he thought he would have everything with. He was a fool to think he could have it all, blinded by his utter devotion to Olivia before he realized his relationship was more one-sided than he realized.

They spent seven years together and not once did Olivia tell him she wasn’t planning their future the same way Bucky was. Olivia meant everything to him and when she was accepted to college on the West Coast Bucky immediately started looking into transferring to a school out there. It didn’t matter that their music program wasn’t as accredited, he was willing to do anything to make what he and Olivia had last.

What Bucky didn’t know was that Olivia didn’t feel the same. Not anymore. She fell out of love with him and was hoping to use graduation as a clean break. She broke his heart and Bucky was devastated.

He didn’t understand how she could stop loving him just like that. How it was so easy for her to let go of all their history; wondering what the turning point was in their relationship and why she didn’t tell him. His trust was broken. She strung him along for months, years maybe? It wasn’t just the fact that they broke up, she had moved on. Olivia was with someone new and every day Bucky asked himself why he wasn’t worthy of love.

He shut down, losing himself in composition, letting the melody of strife carry him through the sea of heartache. It was decided then, by a boy who was barely a man, to take what he needs and never be vulnerable again. It was easy.

It was easy.

Over the past few months everything has changed. There was a moment Bucky was ready to abandon his beliefs. He had grown up, matured; he knows his boundaries and knows there is so much more of himself to give to someone.

Bucky thought that someone could be you. It was a silly idea. You were just friends. But he was friends with Olivia first too. He felt the same ease as you did with him, enjoying spending time with you even if you did nothing. He thought there might have been a chance, somehow for him to break free of the mold he set upon his life and ask you out but someone beat him to it.

You and Billy had been seeing more and more of each other. He remembers that feeling from so long ago, desperate to spend every waking moment with the person that sent your heart a-flutter. Bucky understood when you cancelled plans with him, for the times Billy was able to make a last minute date after work arrangements changed. He understood, even if he didn’t like it. He couldn’t object even though he wanted to. You were happy and Bucky felt worse the more he thought about even thinking of taking that away from you.

He changed the subject, letting the movie resume but the thoughts never left his mind.

For the first time in a very long time Bucky is lonely. While the world is out overspending on chocolates and roses, fancy dinners and champagne Bucky lays in bed, trying to distract himself with a movie. He’s usually alone on Valentine’s Day, by choice. It’s too complicated to sleep with one of his regulars, not wanting to get their hopes up by any means on the day that celebrates love.

Bucky exhaled a heavy breath, upset with himself for being unable to keep his mind off everything. His heart is a dilapidated shack lost in a desolate wasteland. Abandoned after so many years, it’s dust covered, with a haze of cobwebs clouding over the part of himself that used to thrum with life.

And suddenly the walls become unsteady. His heart begins to crumble at the sound coming from the other side of the wall. It’s you, with unmistakable cries of pleasure, in a duet of passion with Billy.

Bucky shudders, feeling uncomfortable for being able to hear something that should be so intimate. It’s payback perhaps, a taste of his own medicine for all the times he’s disturbed you in the same way.

His mind runs wild against his will, imagining you in bed as the soundtrack of your lovemaking permeates the thin walls. It’s bittersweet poison to his ears.

Bucky throws the blankets off him, nearly tripping over the boots he haphazardly toed off earlier as he rushes towards his desk. He grabs his headphones to block out the sounds, a painful reminder of what could never be.

He grabs his phone, scrolling through his contact list. So many names and yet he feels nothing for them. He stops at your name, his chest hitching with agony. He wants what you have. To love fully, and give himself completely to someone. To renovate all the broken pieces inside of himself.

His fingers tap away and Bucky refuses to stop himself of their doing. He’s scared but excited, knowing the threat of getting hurt again is very real but he’s had enough of telling himself that the way he’s been living is what he’s really wanted.

With his own melodies playing in his ear Bucky is ignorant of the way you cry out Billy’s name. He is blissfully ignorant, opening the Tinder app he’s just downloaded, creating a profile because he’s finally ready to give dating a real shot.

PART 14

[aspiringharlot]

Redolence

You’ve got a pretty lame quirk, but it manages to catch someone’s attention.

Word Count: 5.8k

Okay, second attempt at this whole y/n fanfic idea…I also tried formatting the this beginning bit,  hope you’re still bearing with me!

Trigger warnings: Stalking behavior, noncon/ noncon turned to consent, public sex, name calling (let me know if I forgot something)

Tagged for: @palbabor-writes, @tod0oki, @kugutsuu

p.s. @cupcake-rogue, I know that this isn’t explicitly yandere/incel focused but I figured I’d direct your attention anyways!

For Palbabor, a sprinkle of Hawks!

 Was Hawks the kind of guy to play it fast and loose? No, not even close. Sure, he acted out the charismatic, playboy persona crafted by his PR team, but a careless man he was not. Hawks had self-control, and a sense of self discipline, he’d never just make brash decisions capable of jeopardizing his standing as a hero.

And yet he’d entangled himself in this situation.

It all started when he caught a whiff of you.

Being a Hawk-man had many upsides. Hawks had phenomenal vision, unmatched speed and reflexes, and even telepathic control over his wings, though, that last ability may not be as Hawk related as the others. Still, despite the multitude of benefits, Hawks, like many birds, had a weak olfactory sense.

He’d lived his whole life like that, never seeing the downside to this facet of his life. How could he? Can’t miss what you never had, right?

And then, on a sweltering day approximately two months ago, he smelt a distinct scent.

He had no reference to judge the scent. How could he explain it? It was… good?  

That was your quirk. You’d always lamented the lameness of your quirk, an emitter type known as “Redolence”. You could inspire interest and appreciation in others through your pheromones, in most cases only minutely affecting another’s perception of you. This had helped you out a few times. Before job interviews or dates, you’d typically avoid wearing perfume or using scented soaps, making you more likely to receive a call back, but that was really all it could do.

 You’d never put much thought towards how those with a weak sense of smell would perceive it. Surely, they’d be unable to smell your pheromones and would go on with their day, right?

Wrong.

The scent of your pheromones penetrated all noses, regardless of their capabilities.

It had been months since that fateful patrol in which Hawks had smelt a scrunchie you’d lost on the sidewalk. The smell at first caught him off guard. It wasn’t often that he smelt something, let alone all the way up in the air and that made him curious. He dove lower to the ground to see what that smell could possibly be. Perched at the top of a building he scanned the street side with his trained eyes.

He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. An average crowd of people milling on with their day, seemingly oblivious to the mouthwatering aroma encompassing the neighborhood.

Really, Hawks should’ve just went back to his patrol. Nothing terribly strange was happening, he just smelt something.

‘Get back to work, Hawks.’ He thought to himself. ‘wasting time now means you’ll get your route done later and that means less personal time when it’s finally over with.’

The hero stood, readying himself to soar back in the air.

Instead he dove down.

The action wasn’t especially discreet, and several citizens flocked to Hawks, asking for pictures or autographs. He dealt with them as he would any other fan, patiently but not allowing himself to be pushed around. Eventually, as they were leaving him to himself, the blond reached out and asked a pair of friends if they’d smelt the pleasant aroma floating through the area.

They looked to each other confused before the shorter of the pair gained a spark of recognition in her eyes.

“Oh, do you mean that super sweet smell? It was a little stronger back the way we came but it wasn’t all that unusual.”

“Hm.” Hawks grunted gruffly, before seeing the taken aback faces of the pair. Misstep, that grunt was too aggressive, mask it with a more carefree response.

“Oh uh, sorry girls, I suspect there’s an illegal quirk user right in the area.” He pushed out a hardy, fake chuckle. “Not that’s anything a pair of beautiful young girls like yourself needs to worry about.”

They began to blush and stammer, allowing Hawks the perfect opportunity to exit the conversation and head off towards the area the short girl referenced. What an easy distraction a simple complement could make.

As he moved on, he smelled that scent becoming stronger and more powerful. His heart was beating, and butterflies began to form in his stomach. What was this smell? And why was he so desperate to find the source of it?

Eventually the scent began to fade slightly. Shit, he must’ve walked right past it. A game of hot and cold began, Hawks walking in circles like an idiot to track down the source of the smell. And then he found it.

A scrunchie, pink and velvety with prominent ruffles.

That was all, just a hair tie. Mystery solved, pack it up, time to move on.

Hawks was pathetic, feeling like a freak, as in one fluid motion he bent at the waist to collect the scrunchie. He held it to close to his face, mouthwatering as something stirred inside him. The scent emitting from the hair-tie was what he’d always thought cherry pie would smell like. Was this sugar? If it was, he had no idea how bakers managed their day to day lives, the scent alone making him feel increasingly excited.

Was he really going to do this? Snatch a hair tie from the sidewalk grate and keep it like a desperate weirdo?

The scrunchie was tucked into one of the many pockets lining the inside of Hawks’ coat.

From that day on, huffing that hair tie became a part of Hawks’ routine. After a long day he’d come home to shower and tend to his wings before reveling in the scent. It came to a point where he’d please himself, in one hand holding the scrunchie to his face as the other stroked his cock. He didn’t know how, but he had fallen in love with a scent.

Tragically, overtime, the smell faded like autumn leaves losing their crunch. He was going to have to stop relying on the scrunchie.

No, he was addicted to this smell, he couldn’t just let it fade out from his life. He thought back to the day he found it. It was left behind in public, maybe there were cameras which had captured the owner of this hair tie. Cameras that captured you.

Being a top pro hero gave Hawks much leeway- contacting the owners of nearby businesses and asking for copies of their security footage inspired no suspicion.  Within a day he had several angles of perspective on the drop sight. He stuck an intern at his agency with the responsibility of reviewing the footage to detect who had dropped the footage.

Five hours later, Hawks saw you for the first time.

His heart fluttered. He saw a beautiful, no- a gorgeous girl resign herself to the side of the path as she dug through a small bag, digging for something.  In frustration she pulls the bag open wider and ruffles more intensely until finally she pulls out a phone. In the roughness, the scrunchie he had held so close for two months now, slipped out of her purse. She hadn’t noticed, instead checking her phone only to noticeably sigh in relief as a car approached her. She entered the car and it drove away.

Finally, Hawks could put a face to a smell. Now he just had to find you.

That poor intern began to reevaluate his position as the agency when Hawks told him to track you down- Hawks wanted an entire file, complete with a name, date of birth, address, summative history. The whole works.

It took several days, but the intern got all the information and organized it in a neat manilla folder, giving it to Hawks as soon as it was completed.

When Hawks received the folder, he could hardly contain his excitement. This was it, using this file he could track down the smell and subsequently the person that he’d been obsessing over for the past two months. After his intern left, he raced to his room, digging the scrunchie from the plastic baggie it was kept in to sniff at it as he read your file. He tore it open right after pulling his pants down to his ankles. He immediately began palming at his erection, softly exhaling as he began to read over your file.

--------

 (Photograph of you)

(clipped behind, are nudes that were obtained from your phone)

-------

Hawks stopped himself immediately to look slack jawed at the nude photographs of you, squeezing himself around the base of his cock to remind him of restraint. He laid the photo out next to the file to reference as he massaged his cock.

---------

Name: (y/n) (l/n)

Date of Birth: (y/D.O.B.)

Gender: Female

Sex: Female

Relationship Status: Single, no romantic partners or interests.

Sexuality: Unclear

Quirk: Redolence (emitter) - produces mood altering hormones capable of influencing perceptions of others. Low calculated threat as a combatant. Possible use in support position.

­­­­­­­------------------

‘Well,’ thought Hawks. ‘That certainly explains how I’ve gotten into this situation.’ He pumped his cock slowly, savoring the information he was learning.

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

Legal status: Immigrated Citizen – all paperwork has been processed and completed as of 12/14/20XX

Criminal History: Nonexistent

Address: (Nearby address)

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

‘She’s been that close this whole time?’  Hawks couldn’t help but picture you, walking down his street, your quirk turning heads as people wondered why they wanted you so badly. The inadequacy those strangers would feel when they saw Hawks swoop down to lift you off the street and into the air. Hawks felt even more turned on.

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

 Summary: (L/n) works at (place of employment) as (job position). Current income is ($$) per year. Has scarcely active social media profile. Not a public figure. Little contact with friends and family (out of country, no files available to draw information from). No roommates. No house pets. I.P. tracking shows recent queries centered around, heat death of the universe, 20th century American criminal Ed Gein, plane tickets to (your state), and pornographic material containing Consenting Non-Consent (CNC), public sex, indecent exposure, chikan and degradation.

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

‘Oh boy,’ Hawks felt his cock twitch. He couldn’t believe that you’d be such a naughty little slut. He took a deep inhalation, melting at the fading scent. Right now, all he had was this scrunchie, but soon he’d have you. The reassurance made him being to pump his cock faster, the member throbbing in his calloused hands.

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

Medical history shows she is prone to cavities, complications have arisen from improper healing of a torn muscle. Currently attending physical therapy to aid recovery. P.T. backed by health insurance.

Schedule:

Sunday- Grocery shops at approximately 11:20. Returns home to clean and watch television. No notable pattern excluding these events.

Monday- Attends work from 8:00 to 17:00. Purchases takeout on way home. No notable pattern excluding these events.

Tuesday- Attends work from 8:00 to 17:00. Returns home. Exits at 20:00, goes to building laundry office. No notable pattern excluding these events.

Wednesday- Attends physical therapy from 10:00 to 11:00. Attends work from 12:00 to 20:00. No notable pattern excluding these events.

Thursday- Attends work from 8:00 to 17:00. Returns home. No notable pattern excluding these events.

Friday- Goes to (specific area) public park at approximately 12:00. Remains for approximately two hours. Returns home and orders take-out. No notable pattern excluding these events.

Saturday- No notable pattern detected.

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

Hawks was more than pleased with the information that had been gathered on you. And the schedule, that gave him more than enough time to plan out your first meeting. He could see it now, this Friday he’ll swoop through the park and casually run into you.

“Oh, hey there pretty lady, its funny running into you here, I think I saw you a few months ago…” You would start blushing and stammering right away, you’d feel so honored that the Pro Hero Hawks had remembered you, even if you hadn’t technically met.

From there he’d pull out the scrunchie that you lost and play it off like he’d seen you drop it recently. He’d say something like, “Anyway- I saw you drop this a few minutes ago and I thought I’d catch up and return it to you.” He’d hold it out to you and get a little closer than would be strictly necessary. You’d look into his eyes and Hawks could tell you how beautiful you are. He’d offer you out to coffee, he knows you have nothing planned afterwards so there’s no way you’ll say no.

By the time you finished your coffee you’d be in love with Hawks, equally infatuated with him as he was you. You’d shyly ask if he was busy and if maybe he wouldn’t mind walking you home… As soon as you got there, you’d offer yourself to him, stripping off your clothes to reveal your sensual breasts. He’d eagerly be led to the bedroom and immediately work himself down to your core, hoping for a chance to smell your sex. He’d lap at your folds, savoring the taste as he’d dip is tongue past the ring of muscle protecting your hole.

You’d mewl beneath him or pant his name and just beg him to fuck you with his cock. The sounds you’d make underneath him, downright sinful. You’d cum on his cock and flood the room with the smell of your pheromones, making him cum right inside you before he’d collapse on top of you to breath in your scent at the source.

In reality, Hawks was pumping his cock fast, occasionally twisting is hand to change up the rhythm, getting closer and closer as he dropped the scrunchie to instead hold the nude photograph. As he imagined the way you’d beg for his cock he came, hard, shooting white ribbons of cum right onto the picture of you.

He smiled.

Yes, Hawks had this whole thing planned perfectly. This encounter was going to end spectacularly.

When Friday came, Hawks came to the park an hour early, keeping an eye out for you just incase you’d decided to come early. The pro hero was circling the circumference of the park, his eyes darting from person to person until finally he saw you. Or, more accurately, smelled you.

You were entering the park from the west end, in your arms a yoga mat and a large opaque water bottle. On your body was a pants tightening outfit- black high-rise spandex cupping your legs and ass with a white cropped t-shirt straining against your tits. The little shirt was tied into a little knot in the front, the shin white fabric doing nothing to hide your black sports bra, enticing glances from men and women alike. Your hair was another matter of interest for Hawks, the soft strands clipped out of your eyes, only allowing the barest element to frame your face.  Most importantly, you smelled great, Hawks could tell from all the way up in the air. The smell was not the same as the smell of your scrunchie- that one had been more, flirty somehow. Today all that Hawks could smell was that underlying scent that screamed ‘you’. Hawks didn’t mind though, he’d work your quirk’s full potential out of you when the time came.

The way he was getting excited, Hawks didn’t think he could wait any longer, he had to go down and make contact.

He managed to hold off another 7 minutes, allowing you to position yourself in a secluded area of the park, ideal for yoga and meditation. At this point he’d grounded himself to be more discreet and was casually approaching you, not that you noticed with your back to him and eyes closed.

For a tense moment, Hawks stood silently in front of you, breathing quiet. His heart pounded, ba-dum, ba-dum.

“Hey there.” You jumped in surprise, eyes shooting open as you gasped out an awkward sort of “guUh!” noise.

“Whoops!” Hawks chuckled merrily. “Didn’t mean to spook ya there.” When you looked at him, it took you a moment to process that there was a pro-hero in front of you. As you looked up at him, you took notice of his stance. He was calm, standing languidly and unbothered. He must have just felt like acknowledging you and now that he had, he’d probably move on with his day.

“Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?” you blanched. Did he know you?

“ah, no, uh… you must be thinking of someone else.”

“No, No, I wouldn’t forget a pretty face like yours.” He winked confidently. ‘What?’ you thought.

“What?” you said.

“Where was it… Oh!” He snapped, pointing at you. “On the sidewalk outside (business), about two month’s back, yeah, that’s it! (y/n)! That’s your name!”

You furrowed your brow trying to remember what the hell he was talking about. Sure, you’d gone through that area several times in the past three months, you had to in order to get to your physical therapy appointment, but you couldn’t recall seeing Hawks there. You’d never seen the guy in person to begin with!

“Uh, yeah maybe…” Hawks smirked at you.

“Oh, it’s fine if you don’t remember,” his face switched from playful to informative. “there was that villain with the memory erasing quirk, he probably hit you.” You supposed that made sense. Perhaps you did have a conversation with Hawks at some point, that’d explain why he knew your name.

“So-ahem,” you cleared your throat. “what’d we talk about?”

“Well, I saw you drop a few dollars and a hair tie from your purse and decided to do the heroic thing and return them to you” Hawks became carefree again. “We were chatting, and this little stand offered me some chicken kebabs- I asked if you could have some too and we just chatted until that villain came through. If I remember correctly, we were talking about exchanging numbers.”

You widened your eyes. Not only had you been approached by Hawks in the past, but you’d been about to get his number? You weren’t even a huge fan of hero’s, how had that happened?

“Wow, uh, I don’t know what to say.” You giggled.

“You know, I’m free at the moment, mind if I sit and enjoy the park with you?” Without waiting on a response Hawks plopped himself down near you, his great, red wings flexing for a moment before relaxing.

“Oh, uhm, sure…” Now you weren’t sure what to do. You were clearly here to do yoga, but would it be rude to keep doing it while someone was with you?

As if he read your mind, Hawks opened his mouth again, saying, “Don’t mind me, you can go on with your yoga.”

Now it’d be rude if you didn’t continue. You moved into a high lunge pose, stretching your thigh muscles before groaning just a little. Your sore muscle still experiencing some pain.

“Oh, was that the leg you were going to physical therapy for?” he asked innocently. You looked over to see him sprawled on the grass watching you.

“Yeah… I told you I was going to physical therapy?” Something about the way he said that ground your gears. Come to think of it, you only went through that way as you where heading to your appointment. Why would you stop and chat with Hawks beforehand and risk being late?

And, who would be serving chicken kebabs at 9:30 in the morning?

Something was off.

“Oh yeah!” Hawks brought you from your thoughts. “You were talking about how you couldn’t hang out long, you had your appointment to get to. Heck, you left in such a hurry I forgot to hand that hair tie back to you… hmmm… I wonder if…” Hawks began shrugging his coat off before rummaging through the pockets.

So, it seemed possible that you may of ran into Hawks at some point, but he must have been lying about the kebab thing… or maybe he was exaggerating to justify his interest.

“I knew it!” He pulled a pink scrunchie from one of his pockets and sure enough you did recognize it. It certainly was yours.

“Your scrunchie, m’lady.” He scooted closer to you and offered it back.

“Thanks…” you accepted it, wrapping the tie around your wrist twice. You noticed that some of the material seemed worn and stretched, like it had been handled a lot. “I’m surprised you kept it this long.”

“Me too,” Hawks laughed. “To be honest, I forgot all about it till just now.” His face was lit with a cheery smile. He held the smiled uncomfortably long and you weren’t so sure he was telling the truth.

Similarly, you were holding your yoga position too long. When you went to shift your position you grunted, your butt hitting the ground as you were destabilized.

You let out a high pitched, “Shit…” as you felt pain envelope your thigh.

“Oh, fuck, are you okay?” Hawks asked, sitting up and moving even closer to you. It was kind of weird how he kept scooting closer. Brief conversation or not, you were still strangers.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you assured. “This happens sometimes, I just have to rub the area a bit, it’s just a pain doing it myself-“

“I could do it.” Hawks eyes kept moving from your inner thigh to your face and back again.

“heh, uh, no thanks…” you tried to laugh it off.

“No really, let me at it. You’ll feel much better.”

“Uh, thanks for the offer but, it’s not that bad.”

Okay, that was weird too. That was really weird. People don’t just offer to… do that, nor do they insist, and he seemed completely serious.

You were starting to feel not so safe around Hawks. Several things weren’t adding up. A villain with a quirk that could alter a person’s memory… When would you even be hit with that quirk? You did make it to your appointment- Hawks said so himself, so at what point would you get hit with a quirk like that?

The two of you sat it tense silence, not that Hawks acknowledged it. At the moment, he was just happy to be close to your scent. It would’ve been ideal if you’d let him in between your legs to massage your sore muscle but, could he really complain right now? No, even if this was awkward, he could see this working out for him.

“So, Hawks uh, how did I get hit with a memory loss quirk?” you asked.

“I don’t know that one, I just figured you had since you didn’t remember me and there was a villain with that quirk in the area, you must have been hit.” He seemed nonchalant and by all means, trustworthy; he was a hero for crying out loud!

But you couldn’t shake the gut feeling that something was wrong. Hawks would look at you, smiling charismatically, but you couldn’t help but feel like a chicken trapped in a fox’s den.

You’d really rather be going.

“Well, um…” you awkwardly start. “I think I’m going to head out…”

Hawks tilted his head as he looked at you. “What? Are you kidding? You’ve only been here for 20 minutes…Oh, don’t tell me that your one of those people who only does yoga in the park to say that they did yoga in the park.” His inflection. Were you imagining the bite you heard in his tone?

“O- oh, no, it’s just ah… I’m not feeling well…” You started to gather your stuff together, rolling up your mat before starting to stand. Before you fully straightened yourself out you started to sink back down, your leg muscle throbbing. You yelped and Hawks caught you, lowering you back down.

“’Not that bad’, huh?” Hawks chucked and he started to lightly push you back. You resisted, anxiously blabbering, “No, Hawks, I’ll be fine- I think I’ll feel better once I’m back home.”

You couldn’t stop him from pinning you down. Hawks straddled your good leg, holding the knee of your bad so you couldn’t close your legs. Humiliatingly, a single feather flew to rest on your forehead, subtly preventing you from lifting your upper body.

With his free hand, Hawks tenderly explored your inner thigh first only rubbing you through your spandex with the pads of his fingertips.

Alarms were ringing in your head, red alert, red alert, stranger pinning you down to creep on your thighs

“Hawks please-“ you tried to start.

“If you’d just let me finish this, you’d be out before you even realize I touched you.”

You tried being quiet, maybe submission would aid you.

Hawks got rougher with his caresses, making you whimper underneath him. Frustratingly, the position he’d pinned you in was… kind of erotic. There was this handsome man, holding you down, forcing your legs open and subsequently exposing your core. Your brain was recognizing the pattern, remembering all the porn you watched, the erotica you read. Your pussy started getting wet.  You hoped to God that your quirk wouldn’t activate- it’d only make Hawks more aggressive.

You didn’t realize the half of it.

Because Hawks could smell your pheromones, inviting him to continue, making his head feel dizzy with excitement. His mouth watered and he began to lower closer and closer to your legs. Closer to your pussy.

“Oh (y/n),” he crooned. “Your leggings are getting in the way, I hope you don’t mind if I just-“ a feather detached itself from his wing, sharpening and dragging across your pantleg. A slit was torn in the fabric, exposing your leg to him.

“Hawks- please stop!”

He didn’t stop. Instead you felt his hands wander to the slit to physically rip a bigger hole, making the leggings a mere scrap of spandex. The action revealed your clothed cunt and the increased intensity of your pheromones drove Hawks wild, making him as feral as an opossum. He gave up the pretense of massaging your sore muscles and cupped your pussy with his palm, feeling your heat and wetness through your panties.

For a moment he just held it there before taking the hand to his nose and inhaling deeply.

And then you understood.

The scrunchie wrapped around your wrist, you last wore the thing on a hookup. Your pheromones must have gotten into the fibers of the fabric. If you lost it… and Hawks found it…No wonder Hawks had held on to it for so long… the fucker developed an obsession with the scent of your pheromones.

And then, he sees you, in public- of course he’d try to initiate something with you… Shit.

You’re taken back to the reality of your situation when you feel the scrape of a feather against your shirt. That- That fucker was cutting open your shirt! How the fuck were you going to get home in a bra and panties… soaked panties at that.

Rip Rip

Okay, scratch that, now all your clothes were shredded and unwearable.

Hawks finally changed positions, swinging around to hold you in a 69 position. The action kept you pinned down even when you jumped in surprise at the sensation of Hawks dragging his tongue over your pussy lips. He didn’t hesitate to dive in, eating your pussy like a man starved of nutrients for 12 to 13 days.

You hated to admit it… but it felt fantastic. The feeling of his stubble dragging against your skin while he alternated between licking and sucking your clit was making your pussy gush. The taboo of it all as well. Fuck, this shit was all your kinks rolled into one.

You wanted to hate what was happening. Hawks, he was overpowering you- making you feel small and weak. This was wrong…

Fuck it, you were horny.

To Hawks’ surprise you started palming at his erection, trying to work the zipper down to free his cock. Despite his surprise, he was thankful. Hawks Junior was starting to feel like a caged bird, trapped in his pants the way they were.

He was doubly as thankful when he felt your small, soft hand start working his cock, pumping it, letting the tip rub against the skin of your breast. Hawks shakily exhaled, taking a moment’s break from eating you out to focus of the pleasurable sensations overtaking his cock.

“Hawks~” you whined. “You’re wearing too many clothes…”

“Huh?” he said, dumbfounded for a moment.

“Take your clothes off.” He looked down at himself, raising his eyebrows when he compared his state of dress to yours.

“Oh, yeah, right!” He was quick to strip down, undoing his belt and allowing his pants to fall to the ground. His goggles, coat and shirt followed suit and you took in the sight before you.

In a moment of confidence, Hawks fully extended his wings and allowed you to look upon his toned body.  His muscles were well defined and displayed the power housed within his skin.

It made you want to blow him.

You got on your knees before him, nuzzling his cock before taking it into your mouth- not an ounce of hesitation left in you anymore.

“Oh, so is this it real (y/n)? Not some nervous, bashful girl? She’s actually a worthless slut?” he cupped your face in his left hand, pushing your head down further onto his cock. Unprepared, you gagged- pulling yourself off his cock to cough and wheeze. He wasn’t thrilled at that, he wanted to feel your throat convulse around his cock, you weren’t allowed to just pull off.

Hawks grabbed you by the hair, yanking you so you toppled to your hands and knees before his feet.  

“Oh come on, you can be a better slut than that!” You looked up to him, lust making your eyes dilated. Eagerly you repositioned yourself onto your knees, again not hesitating to slurp on his cock. He pushed your head down again like last time, triggering your gag reflex but you held down, forcing yourself to relax overtime, swallowing around his cock on occasion.

“See,” he cooed condescendingly, “there’s a good slut.” Wetness dribbled down your thigh. You pulled off his cock with an audible pop and said three words that made Hawks want to fuck you till you went blind.

“Please fuck me.” The look of it all was so erotic. You, naked on your knees, face red and makeup running, lips, puffy and red from sucking cock, begging to be stuffed with cock.

Hawks grabbed you by the hair again, dragging you to a gnarled tree. “oh, you want to be fucked? Fucked right in your needy hole?” you nodded eagerly. “Good slut, now go on, position yourself for me.”

You braced yourself against the tree, arching your back and planting your feet. You could feel the rough bark against the soft skin of your pillowy tits. It hurt but you didn’t care. You were too caught up in the eroticism of what you were doing.

When you felt Hawks tease his cock against your cunt, you couldn’t suppress your squeal of excitement or stop yourself from eagerly spearing yourself onto his cock. You shivered at the sound of Hawks groaning as he entered your tight, slick, heat.

“Fuuuuuck,” He moaned out as he adjusted to your tightness. It wasn’t long before he was bucking into your, searching for the spot inside you that would make your legs shake.

Three or four thrusts in you squeaked- eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh there? Is that where the little slut likes feeling my cock?” you nodded eagerly but that wasn’t enough for Hawks. “No, I want to hear you say it. Say it!”

“Yes! Fuck, that’s where I like feeling your cock!” Hawks pulled out completely.

“That’s where who likes feeling my cock?” your eyes widened with recognition.

“That’s where the little slut likes feeling your cock!”

“Oh, Good Girl!”

He thrust back in, aiming directly for that patch of skin inside your tight walls that made you see stars. Hawks’ own cock was feeling fantastic, the warm heat making him go a little crazy, groaning louder and louder.  He kept thrusting in, harder and harder, making your brain rattle around inside your skull. He reached around to grind his hand against your clit, adding to the cacophony of pleasure you felt.

You were getting really close and Hawks’ wasn’t far behind you. With each thrust he could feel his muscles tense up in preparation to cum, the only thing keeping him from erupting inside you being his own willpower.

Finally, as the pleasure built inside of you, your muscles firmly clenched around Hawks’ thick cock, milking it around your own orgasm. The pro hero’s hips slowed their pace, fucking you through both of your orgasms until finally they stuttered to a halt, stuffing you to the brim with his cream.

He remained like that for a moment, cock feeling too sensitive to pull out but finally, he eased his cock out of your hole, removing the dam which had kept all of Hawks’ cum inside you. He watched in satisfaction as his cum leaked out of your used hole, completely transfixed until he heard the snapping of a branch.

He whipped around, eyes locking onto a teenaged boy holding his phone up from the bushes. The kid was tiny, with the strangest hairstyle Hawks had ever seen. Purple balls that didn’t even resemble hair. All and all an ugly kid. Even worse was to see that while one hand was occupied holding his phone, the other was held suspiciously low.

Luckily, at sight alone, the kid made a man dash to avoid a scolding. Unluckily, that kid for sure had a first of its kind, hero sex tape.

Hawks looked back at you, now slid to the ground, breathing heavily. Your naked form was a work of art, and his satisfaction with the sequence of events left him with a clear head. He looked around the clearing the two of you had occupied.

Oh, right. He’d completely destroyed all of your clothes… that was tricky.

“Hey, sorry for ruining all your clothes.” He didn’t seem too sorry.

“Its, whatever… I’ll just have to figure out a way home.”

“Well, I could fly you home… no one to enforce public decency when you’re in the sky.” You were not thrilled at the prospect of flying through the air naked. You looked down at your nude body. Unfortunately, you had no choice.

“I don’t really have any other options…” you helped clean up the clearing, and when all was set and done, allowed yourself to be carried bridal style by Hawks.

He leapt into the air, soaring seemingly higher than a plane. The cold made your nipples rock hard.

“oh by the way, (y/n)?” you looked at him.

“When we get to my apartment I’m gonna need you to rub your scent on my bed.”

 Sometimes, you hated your quirk.

[mae-gi-writes]

Somebody Loves You | Kevin Moon (The Boyz Imagine)

Bandmates au! in which Kevin finally realizes that the love he’s looking for is standing right here beside him. 

Genre: angst, fluff at the end, friends to lovers au, bandmates au.

Words: 1.6k-ish? 

------

All she could remember were the tears on his face. 

And then, then came the heartbreak. Along with that, the sad songs bouncing off his piano keys like soulful siren singing melodies about the dead and haunting her in her sleep. The floor was always littered with crumbled paper and when Y/N had enough courage to smooth one out, realized that they were nothing more than lyrics singing of a broken heart. 

The break up had come unexpectedly. A quick slap in the face, as she liked to call it. But after that day, Kevin was never the same. Oh he tried, tried his best to fake it behind a cracked mask that always managed to crumble half-way throughout the day, but Y/N knew him like the back of her hand, knew exactly the slightest microscopic expressions that shifted in his face, which made her even more aware of his countenance every single time. 

One time, she found him curled up on the corner of the couch in their small practice room -- tucked away in one of the school’s back buildings that nobody ever ventured to -- with tears cascading down his face in crystal translucent jewels, carving paths along his cheeks and dripping off his jaw as he kept his eyes averted from her own. 

“Kevin,” Y/N sighed, before plopping herself down next to him, “did you eat?” 

The young man shook his head. Of course he hadn’t. Nothing much interested him these days. 

She made a frustrated sound, “you can’t keep doing this to yourself, you know.” 

“It hurts,” came his murmur, words choked with tears. 

“I know it does Kev, but--” Y/N’s hand landed on his shoulder in a soft, warm caress, “you have to move on. She has.” 

He sniffled for a few minutes more. Then, he wiped his nose with his shirt sleeve, gladly accepting the tissue she provided him upon noticing his struggle, “thanks,” he merely mumbled, a breath of words so quiet and weak she feared he might break in two.

“Come on,” Y/N’s hands went to cup his face before pulling up the corner of his lips with her thumbs. She grinned at him, “smile. Come on, it’s not the end of the world. You have me.” 

A tear-filled chuckle escaped his chest, “yeah,” the corners of his lips tugged up slightly, “yeah I know.” 

The next few weeks were swamped in a constant routine of practice and attending lectures whenever they weren’t too wiped out afterwards, which Kevin accepted the distractions with open arms. Slowly but surely, Y/N watched his expressions clear, his eyes getting lighter and lighter, chuckles coming a little easier to him now, and smiles gracing his face more often times than not. It was relieving, to say the least. Y/N’s heart couldn’t help but jump up in happiness whenever she remembered how far he’d come from the broken mess Kevin once was, though these facts were things she kept hidden like a secret she would carry to her grave.

She’d never tell him; how he’d stolen her heart, and that now she was his entirely if he wanted. No. She couldn’t, never had even before he even started dating his ex back then.

So imagine her shock when Kevin bounded up to her after her Marketing class to tell her:

“Miha texted me.” 

Y/N blinked for a few seconds. The name was enough to make her stomach drop. 

“What?” a frown fell like a dark shadow over her face, “What did she say? What did she want?” 

He shuffled from one feet to another, clearly sensing the unfriendliness emanating from the girl before him, "well, she said a lot of stuff...about how she misses me. And how she wants to talk to me, clear things up because they way we left it was--" his words stopped short upon noticing the scowl spreading over Y/N's face faster than he could utter Miha's name. Instead, he asked, "what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're not going to meet her, are you?" Were the only words that she managed to splutter out of the multitudes of protests ringing through her mind.

"Well," he scratched the back of his head, looking strangely embarrassed, "I don't know, I thought maybe I should go, we didn't have any closure and--"

"Are you insane?"

Kevin blinked, "no, I just thought--"

"She broke your heart," Y/N shook her head and her fists impulsively clenched at her sides in hopes that she wouldn't sock him one. Frustration flared through her, "she broke up with you and left you in this mess by yourself. You-- You were terrible Kev, you weren't eating and you barely slept. Why would you want to go back to that?" She searched his eyes, attempted to seek out what was going on inside his brain, "why would you?"

"Look Y/N," she watched as Kevin's expression hardened, "I'm really grateful for you, I am. But it's no big deal, okay? It's just a lunch to talk things over."

"Just a lunch?" She laughed, though it sounded empty, "there's no such thing as 'just a lunch'. "

"Why do you even hate her so much? She didn"t do anything to you--"

"You know what? No." Y/n threw her hands in mock surrender, "you do what you want. I'm done. I want no part in this."

"What's wrong with you?" Kevin's voice rose with his anger. It was clear that he was just as rattled as she was, "why are you acting like it's such a big deal?"

How dare he say that.

Anger vibrated through her chest. Invaded her lungs.

Suddenly, it gelt all too hard to breathe.

How dare he, when all she had done was be there for him? When she had vaught him with open arms and nursed his bruised heart back to life.

How dare he.

"How dare you," her voice shook with restrained anger, "how dare you say that when all I've done was for your sake?"

"Y/N I didn't mean--"

"Yes you did!" She cut him off with a yell as tears pooled from the corner of her eyes, "you meant every single word and I'm not having any more of it! You--" she let out a slow, shaky breath through her mouth, body practically vibrating with rage, "you don't even see me, not in the way that I do.”

"What do you mean--"

"I love you, alright?" Her hand tugged at her hair, "I always did, Kev. And seeing you so broken, I hated myself for it. It hurt me as much as it did for you. I'm not going to stick around just to see it happen again."

And before waiting for Kevin to answer back Y/N swivelled on her heel and marched away with her head held high, even as tears wlowly dropped down her cheeks and her heart shook every step along the way.

For the next few weeks, Y/N aboided Kevin at all costs.

Not only was she swimming in huge embarrassment at the prospect of having confessed her somewhat undying love for him, but it did not help matters that she couldn't erase the image of his closed-off, hardened expression as they argued back and forth.

--------

It was obvious whom he'd chosen to side with. Y/N wasn't supposed to feel bitter -- actually hated herself for being so petty -- but she couldn't help it. It was like his presence was a ghost that haunted her every day life, a constant reminder that he wasn't here anymore.

So Y/N avoided the band practice room like the plague, skipped classes they shared, so much so that their drummer -- a cute quirky freshmen who went by the name of Eric -- decided to confront her right as she was about to exit her statistics course.

"Why aren't you coming to band practice lately?" Eric asked as he followed Y/N's footsteps echoing down the hall, "something's wrong. You wouldn't be acting this way otherwise. Tell me."

"Nothing's wrong," she muttered while dragging her feet, attempting not to scowl at the wall before her.

"Sure, of course nothing's wrong," Eric rolled his eyes, "that"s why you're sulking like a five year old child."

"Just leave me alone."

"Is this about Kevin?"

She stayed quiet. Reacting to his statement would just confirm his suspicions.

"It is, isn't it?" Eric continued while the girl struggled to keep her face void of emotion, "he's been acting all weird too. Hasn't been practicing as much, and apparently he's still talking to that ex of his-- which, by the way, I do not approve of -- but he looks off, Y/N. Like he doesn't even want to hang out anymore."

"Not my problem."

"Y/N," a hand fell upon her shoulder then. Eric squeezed her softly, "I'm not stupid. I know you guys fought for whatever reason. But for my sake, please come back. Come and and talk to him," he paused, then added a soft, "please."

Usually, a few prods from Eric here and there would prompt Y/N to make the first move. But not this time. She wasn't about to apologize to Kevin for having done nothing wrong. If anything, she was the one who should be apologized to!

Instead, Y/N took this chance to call up her mother who laid just a few hours away in the suburbs, asking if there was any possibility for a visit. A break would do her some good and by the older woman's delighted tone on the other side of the line, Y/N guessed that it would please her mother just as much. The older woman didn't hesitate to gush at the many dishes she would prepare for her only daughter, prompting Y/N to smile despite all the circumstances.

Trust her mother to make her feel loved when nobody else could.

And so, it was a few days later when Y/N packed her things for the weekend. She ambled out into the shared common room, bid a casual goodbye to her flatmates, before starting towards the train station, her heart already lifting with hope with every step that brought her closer to home.

Only for that hope to shatter when a familiar alto burst through the air.

"Y/N!"

Turning towards the sound, the said girl's eyebrows stitched into a frown upon noticing Kevin's figure running up to her as if he was the one about to his miss train.

"What do you want--" she didn't even have time to finish her sentence when Kevin's arms snatched her over to his chest, one of his hands weaving into her hair before he tilted his head and crashed his mouth down onto hers.

"Wha--" the words choked up in the back of her throat as Kevin moved his lips onto her own in the most sensual dance with a desperate, almost aggressive need. His hand at her waist tightened, slipping underneath her shirt and causing her to gasp, electric tingles shooting up her spine.

He kissed her with ardour, with a passion she didn't know he possessed. He kissed her until her knees felt weak and until her head spun deliciously from his attacks; mouth suckling onto her bottom one, nibbling at the skin and -- impulsively -- Y/N couldn't help but kiss back.

A growl vibrated through his chest at her response and she almost fell, pliant in his arms. His tongue pushed at her mouth, delving in without warning and eliciting a soft whimper from the said girl as her own arms slithered their way up his shoulders and into his hair. 

He was everywhere. His scent. His taste. He tasted so familiar and warm and just--just Kevin. 

She hadn't realized that they'd been moving until her back collided with the cold, cemented wall of her apartment building, the contrast of its iciness and Kevin's warmth sending another surge of hot desire through her chest.

"Don't leave me," Kevin breathed through multiple kisses, his voice hoarse and rough from their kiss, "don't leave. I'm sorry."

It took ever ounce of Y/N's brain cells to figure out what he was sorry for.

"For what?" She mumbled against his mouth.

He drew back with a soft sigh and a whine almost crawled up her throat at the loss of heat. Pressing their foreheads together, noses touching, he murmured, "for everything. For not listening to you, for not seeing you, I-- I was so stupid for taking you for granted and it's only when you walked out on me that I realized--" he exhaled shakily, "that I realized how much...how much I loved you."

Closing her eyes to let his words wash over her wounds, she felt like pinching herself.

It didn't seem real.

Kevin didn't seem real.

And as though she yearned for that clarification herself, her hand reached up to press her palm against his cheek. 

The man's eyes closed, taking in the feel of her skin, her warmth, against him.

And when he opened them once more to find her brown orbs swimming with flecks of sudden affection, he couldn’t help but lean forward again.

"I'm sorry," he pecked her mouth chastely, "I'm sorry," his kisses trailed over her jaw, up her cheek while he kept on muttering a string of apologies that caused a troop of butterflies to flutter through her stomach. Her hands fisted through his shirt unconsciously as Kevin continued showering her face in a rain of kisses that left her heart cartwheeling in her chest, heat springing through her cheeks at the way their bodies practically molded into each other. 

His firmness pressed against her curves. Sensual heat pooled at the bottom of her stomach. 

“Please just--” Kevin’s alto broke at the last word, “just don’t leave.” 

To be fair, she wasn’t actually leaving for good. But it seemed like Kevin had understood it all upside down, for he thus nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck and hugged her close as though fearing that she might disappear at any given moment.

She took a deep, shaky breath. Let it out slowly through her teeth, “I’m not going anywhere, Kev.” 

She felt him pause, “why are you all packed then?” 

“I’m just going to visit my mom for the weekend.” 

Another pause. Then: 

“Oh.” 

Silence. 

“Oh. Fuck.” 

Laughter bubbled straight out of Y/N’s lips the moment Kevin lurched back to gaze at her with wide-eyed panic reminiscent to that of a young deer in the headlights. He was just too adorable for his own good and while she pitied the fact that Eric had merely dramatized the situation of her leaving, she was grateful. Kevin would never have acted so impulsively if he wasn’t desperate.

And now, she knew that these feelings were actually reciprocated.

“Stop,” Kevin brought her back, pecking at a spot right underneath her jaw as she kept on laughing, “stop laughing. It’s not funny!” 

“Oh my-- Oh my god. You thought I was leaving for good, weren’t you?” Y/N tried, and failed, numerous times to force the laughter down though it was proving to be quite difficult. 

Her heart felt so much lighter than just a few minutes ago. It was soaring through clouds, literally floating up to the heavens in happiness.

“I got scared okay?!” Kevin prodded at her tummy, face dropping into a pout, “I thought you were never going to come back because of--because of what happened.” 

“I’m not that dramatic.” 

“I know, I’m usually the drama queen.” 

“So,” a teasing smile lifted at the corners of Y/N’s lips. Her eyes narrowed towards his, mischief dancing in her eyes, “you love me, do you?” 

“You’re never going to let me hear the end of it, are you?” 

“Nope,” she singsonged, “it’s too adorable to forget.” 

“Hmph,” Kevin groaned slightly and she shivered at the contact of his lips against her collarbone. He lifted his head to kiss her cheek softly, mouth traveling over to land on her lips then, “as long as I get a girlfriend out of it, I’m okay with that.” 

[redqueen-hypothesis]

duo dates ➳ mlqc

KIRO

⤞ visiting animal rescue shelters together

it’s obvious that kiro has quite the soft spot for furry animals from the sheer number of strays he’s picked off the streets one way or another. both amused and inspired by how excited he gets from being around apple box and cello, you decide to feature him in one of your documentaries about abandoned pets, allowing him to work with a rescue shelter for a day. you’ve never seen him so excited, giggles and delighted laughter falling freely from his mouth as puppies and kittens crawl over him, nosing and licking at every part of him. he gets very emotional when he hears about the number of animals that get abandoned and have to be euthanized once they stop being ‘cute’, and the staff lets out a collective sniff from behind the cameras when they see his own eyes filling with tears.

so, it’s no surprise when kiro decides to head back to the animal shelter on his own, and he invites you along with him too! the two of you become longtime volunteers at the shelter, and kiro absolutely loves the animals there (you’d jokingly told him that you’re jealous before, to which he showered you with loud kisses and ardent declarations of love until you were dying of embarrassment). he names all of the animals there with some of the weirdest names, like ‘triangle ears’ and ‘fur tail’, but tends to forget them and mix them up with each visit. will wear the animal mascot suit and stand outside to encourage volunteers to sign up, and gives monthly anonymous donations but the staff all know it’s him. he complains they only treat him extra nice during that time, but you know all the staff adore him (and honestly, who doesn’t, with that pure heart and bright smile?)

not afraid to get down and dirty with the animals! you and the rest of the staff watch with varying degrees of admiration (and horror) as he throws himself into the mud along with the animals, stealing squeaky toys and toy bones alike from right under their noses and running for his life as a pack of dogs chase him from behind. when kiro’s exhausted himself playing with them, he’ll come into the shade damp with sweat and immediately flop down with his head on your lap, pretending to snore loudly, although he really does fall asleep sometimes. refers to himself as the dad and you as the mom, and will sometimes tell the pups to ask you for permission to wolf down their dog chow. “it’s practice for taking care of our future family!” he insists, wrapping his arms around you right after he’s finished chasing the dogs in the rain. when you shake your head and ask him where on earth you’re going to find a family as chaotic as this, he slyly winks and says he wants as many kids as there are dogs in the shelter. you aim a kick at him.

GAVIN

⤞ learning self defense from him

it had started for a multitude of reasons. first of all, you had mentioned wanting to get into shape and shed some excess some way, and had been looking for a way to get fit quickly. secondly, there had been a stalker who had been following you home for a few nights when you left the office late, although that had been quickly put to an end when gavin came over to pick you up on a late night food run and promptly made the guy eat pavement. he’d been worried about you, and suggested learning a form of self defense in order to better protect yourself in case he wasn’t there. lastly, you wanted to see gavin sleeveless, sweaty and... yeah. that’s it. that’s the reason.

the first few lessons, you’re so distracted by that tight fitting black tank top and dear lord those arms and abs that you nearly get your nose broken by your dear teacher gavin, who panics for a good entire hour and won’t stop apologising. he suggests stopping the lessons, but you insist on continuing, determined to actually focus this time round (you can ogle his body another time when there isn’t a fist flying at your face). it starts off as a way to spend more time with gavin and allowing him to do what he likes at first, but then your competitive side quickly starts to take over and you find yourself becoming more and more interested in the sport itself. gavin never really goes very hard on you, but he isn’t an easy coach either. he works with you to improve your fitness levels, going to the gym with you, following you on your jogging rounds whenever you want him to, and letting you punch him all you want (your hands probably hurt more than his rock hard body does anyway).

your favourite part, though, is watching gavin truly sink into his element, because he looks extra hot when he’s in the fighting ring squaring off in a practice match against another opponent. there’s a calm, composed expression on his face, but his eyes shine with a dangerous light that remind you of a starving wolf. when he does go toe to toe with his opponent, you rarely have a second to blink before gavin’s already moving lightning quick to take his him down. it’s a side of him you rarely get to see since he’s always so sweet and tender with you, but you can’t help gushing to him about how sexy he is and watching as his ears burn bright red with barely suppressed (but pleased) embarrassment. in the fighting gym, you’re the only one who’s managed a takedown on him before so you’re somewhat of a legend, but you had played dirty, kissing him full on the mouth when he wasn’t expecting it and he had promptly frozen on the spot.

suffice to say no one else has dared to replicate the technique on him.

VICTOR

⤞ teaching him the ways of an arcade

he would have never agreed to this if he had known just how awful he was at these. victor li can conquer the financial business scene in less than five years straight out of college but can’t for the life of him pass a single level of dance off, much less win against a child less than half his age. he looks so... uncomfortable stepping into that noisy space playing all sorts of loud, upbeat music at once, ear splitting hollers from kids playing other games punctuating the mishmash of songs - it’s only then that you realise that victor has never, in his entire childhood, set foot into an arcade before.

you collect your card at the counter before dragging him to the racing games, sitting him firmly down in your seat before teaching him how to customise his own car. he would have spent hours doing this until you nudge him to the next section, the actual race, and that’s when he starts panicking in typical victor fashion, trying to act calm but asking all sorts of funny questions. demands to know what’s the difference in the game for auto and manual steering, protests repeatedly that “this isn’t how a car works”. it’s even more hilarious seeing him try out the dance games, in which he had faced off against a ten year old and promptly lost. it hurt his pride, but you had laughed so hard your face turned red, so maybe it’s worth it. but only a little bit. and he’s still not doing this again. awhile into the arcade he begins to relax a little and his competitive side starts to shine through, he’s no longer worried about looking like an idiot and instead puts his all into every single game. in fact, you find yourself increasingly distracted by that very endearing expression of focus on his face as he awkwardly tries to navigate his long legs according to the beat, and the childish excitement plain on his face when he finally passes a level makes you smile so hard your cheeks hurt.

at this point, he’s calling the claw machine a complete scam and is ready to sue the entire arcade chain when you’ve decided enough is enough and pull him from the arcade. the two of you end up cramped in a photobooth with your prizes, a totoro hood for him and a rabbit ear headband for you, and you keep the polaroids in your wallet ever since then. you don’t realise that he’s stolen one for himself, and now it sits buried deep in the drawer of his work desk where he looks at it secretly when you aren’t there.

LUCIEN

⤞ horror house/escape room to find his weakness

lucien’s practically unflappable in any situation, seemingly able to respond to any crisis or chaos with the same, serene smile. when you ask him what he’s afraid of, he gives you the same cheesy answer he always does: losing you is the only thing he’s fearful of (to which you just don’t stop blushing, no matter how many times he says it. is it the way he looks at you, or the way his voice just drops to a genuine, low whisper whenever he says it?) as such, you had challenged yourself to find out what his weaknesses were, and tried a variety of the strangest ideas on the internet such as sticking toy cockroaches in the kitchen, only to get terrified yourself at the sight of a forgotten dummy you’d left on the shelf and had nearly broken a cup in the process. after that, lucien had suggested taking your attempts out of the house instead - and thus, horror houses and escape rooms it was.

going to horror houses with lucien is probably the best and worst idea you’ve ever had. in terms of effectiveness of achieving your goal, it’s completely useless - even the most terrifying and renowned of horror houses have lucien walking out completely unfazed, or worse, carrying you in his arms bridal style because your legs are shaking too much to walk straight. the only upside to this is that when you’re terrified, you cling to lucien and he just whispers soothing words into your hair, explaining how the horror house uses mist and smoke dispensers here and there, how the lights change colour and where the actors hide. the poor actors have probably gotten tired of being repeatedly exposed and having to change positions, so many of the horror houses just give the two of you complementary coupons and beg you not to come back. the photos you get of the two of you always include you with the strangest expressions, while lucien’s face just looks like a ctrl+c ctrl+v of his usual expression.

in the end, you give up trying to scare him and just enjoy the horror houses with him, clinging to his arm when you’re scared and letting him calm you down. from the content smile on lucien’s face you see in the pictures, he looks like he’s rather enjoying this. you don’t know this, but he actually buys all the pictures and puts them in his own personal photo album. you’ll probably die of shame if you find out.

SHAW

⤞ busking together on the streets

you had mentioned being extremely nervous about your first time performing live at the live house with the band, so shaw had dragged you along with him to go busking on the streets with him. at first, you had been extremely resistant to the idea (it’s on the streets!! where people can just!! take videos of you and the entire world will know if you screw up!!), but shaw had encouraged you in his own strange way that included a lot of teasing, goading and actual breaking down of how the process would go before you felt confident enough to go with him. “don’t worry,” shaw had said standoffishly as he helped you set up your keyboard, not looking at you the entire time. “i’m way more handsome, so i’m sure they’ll be looking at me the entire time and won’t even notice if you play a completely different song.” offended, you had pulled at his ear, but you were smiling secretly to yourself the entire time, and whispered a ‘thanks’ under your breath. he pretended not to have heard it, but from the way his smirk seemed just a hint happier the entire evening, he must have.

you love little moments that lead up to the actual busking sessions every weekend, sending each other songs and working out the keys over the duration of the week. practicing together and watching as your chemistry falls more and more in sync until the two of you can do perfect runs without any words spoken between you, until you can read the little subtle cues in the way he flexes his fingers on the fretboard before going in on a particularly difficult solo, or the way he turns back to glance at you when your parts are coming up. perhaps the best thing of all is the test covers he sends you to discuss the song flows, because you (secretly) love the sound of his voice when he sings and keep every recording, listening to them when you fall asleep at night (little do you know he does the exact same thing, although he would rather die than let you find out).

shaw covers up for you when you play wrong notes, but he relentlessly teases you for them afterwards. throws hands if any hecklers in the audience insult your playing, and you have to drag him away, apologising for the rudeness while trying not to smile too hard as shaw swears loudly behind you. the money you make from the busking is usually spend on a late night supper after your busking sessions in small food joints whose owners and customers all seem to know shaw somehow, calling him a little rascal and thanking you for mellowing him out. shaw retorts by calling them old men spouting nonsense, hiding a fond smirk behind the cup of his pepsi-coke mix and stuffing food in your mouth when you laugh at him.

[dunkindestieldonuts]

The Beach Episode

6200 words, rated T (read on ao3) The Winchesters go on a beach vacation in southern California. (Wrote this a while ago but now that it’s finally summer beach weather, I thought I’d post it here too!)

Part I: Dean

Dean loves the beach.

Well, the idea of it anyway, seeing as this was his first time actually going for a vacation. He’d seen it enough in movies and on television to paint what he thought was a pretty accurate picture, though.

The long drive from Kansas to California had ended late that morning. Dean drove with the windows down once the highway ended, waiting for the telltale smell of salt on the air.

When the sea breeze finally hit his nose, he breathed in delightedly. They were still probably a few minutes away from seeing the sand but he was already itching to stretch his legs.

The road was straight for a while, but when it bent around a cluster of low hills…there it was. The ocean.

The sight of so much water took his breath away. The only thing his mind could relate it to was the seemingly never-ending plains of Nebraska, which were a total bitch to drive through. But instead of “HELL IS REAL” signs or dilapidated iron sheds to break up the vast expanse, there were sailboats and red-lined oil barges.

He turned left when the road ended at a bluff, but he kept looking at the water out the window, trying to spot paddleboarders around Sam in the passenger seat.

“Dean,” Sam said, “the road. We’re almost there.” He indicated the beach they’d chosen on the map of southern California spread out on his lap.

When they’d discussed where to go back at the bunker, Dean had insisted on the west coast. He wanted to watch the sunset with his family. To start their week-long vacation, they’d chosen a smaller beach, away from big crowds and attractions (although Eileen did want to try her hand at carnival games at some point during their stay).

They packed all the essential gear: blankets, beach chairs, picnic baskets, beach umbrellas, beach balls and baseball mitts, and a plethora of colorful sandcastle-building equipment that Jack helped pick out. Dean even bought matching Hawaiian shirts for himself and Cas at the first kitschy tourist shop he could find in the Golden State (his was covered in California landmarks and Cas’ was all about the Pacific Coast Highway).

He was looking forward to so many things, like the feel of the sand between his toes, the taste of salt on his lips. He was also very excited to get a piña colada or something similar. With a little umbrella, of course.

Dean probably pulled into the parking lot a little too quickly, judging by the look a surfer sitting in the back of a pickup gave him. He made sure to park far away from the guy.

The first thing he did when he got out of the car was change his shoes, throwing his boots into the trunk and grabbing some flip flops. He fed the meter an entire roll of quarters before helping everyone gather their things.

When they got everything out of the Impala, he rushed down the stairs of the lot, barely containing his excitement. Then someone grabbed the back of his shirt, stopping him from being run over by three bicyclists. He looked down to see a paved two-way bike lane between him and the sand.

“Thanks,” he said over his shoulder. Cas rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

They found a spot away from most of the other people and set up camp. Once the blankets were laid out and the umbrellas stuck in the sand, Dean surveyed their surroundings. He spotted a small building with the words “Surf Food Stand” painted on a surfboard above a serving window, and realized it was in fact lunchtime.

The building and its seating were directly on the sand. They sold food like hot dogs and smoothies, and rented various beach equipment. Dean immediately wanted to rent a surfboard. Sam told him it was a stupid idea, Dean didn’t even know how to surf, he was definitely going to hurt himself!

But it was a word from Cas that finally stopped him from going through with it. He reminded Dean they were staying for the week, and convinced him to sign up for surf lessons the next day. Cas even signed up with him.

They ordered food (Cas even let Jack get two smoothies when his son couldn’t decide between banana and mango) and took it back to their spot. There weren’t any tiny umbrellas, but it was all delicious.

☼ ☼ ☼

Dean sits cross-legged on their blanket with Cas behind him, rubbing sunscreen into his back. Cas has beautiful, broad hands, and Dean appreciates whenever they’re on him. And when Cas starts digging his thumbs into the knots just under the back of Dean’s neck, Dean makes a noise that has Sam looking over in disgust.

“Dude.”

“What? I’ve been driving for hours, I deserve a massage.”

Cas laughs behind him, placing a kiss on the back of Dean’s head. He stops the massage but continues with the sunscreen. He takes extra care to add multiple layers to Dean’s left shoulder.

This would be the first time since he got it that his new handprint tattoo would be out in the sun. He swore it was completely healed - this wasn’t his first tattoo after all - but Cas insisted that Dean still moisturize it daily (it was less of a pain than it sounded, since he could usually convince Cas to do it for him which often led to other fun activities).

When Cas is done he leans forward, putting his arms around Dean’s middle. He rests his chin on Dean’s shoulder. “Done.”

“Thank you.”

Dean leans back into him. He’s so comfortable in Cas’ arms now, like he belongs there. The physical aspect of their relationship was intimidating for Dean at first, but it was something Castiel wanted so he made the effort. The angel deserved to be shown affection in every way possible, deserved to be as happy as he made Dean.

It worked out well - Dean realized early on in the process that it was something he wanted, too. Something he’d been denying himself for a long time.

Really, it was just an extension of how they’d been before: the lingering gazes now ended in pecks on the cheek, the shoulder touching moved down the arm to hand holding.

The way they fit together made Dean sometimes wonder if they were made for each other, if they were always meant to be together. Something unbearably poetic or romantic like that. But then he thinks no, nothing about this is destiny or fate or someone’s grand design. They’d fought against that. Defeated it.

No, this was choice.

It’s all choice, which Dean believes makes what they choose from now on even better. He chose Cas. And Cas chose him, too.

Which is, wow, by the way. Cas is older than the beach they’re sitting on, had seen more in his existence than Dean could ever even begin comprehend…and yet the one thing he wants in all the universe is Dean. Dean couldn’t fully believe it for the longest time. He couldn’t believe it when Cas had first said the words. Wouldn’t believe it, until Cas explained that yes, he meant love love.

At some point Cas had practically begged him to stop asking questions riddled with self-doubt. Things like “You sure? Me? Really?” were always met with the same answer, sweet and sincere: “I’m sure. You. Really.” Then Cas would kiss his forehead, or hold his hand, or let him have the last chocolate chip cookie, and he’d know it was true.

Cas was also helping Dean see himself the way Cas saw him, the way all the people who love him saw him. Dean is a good man. He’d done so much for the world, so much for the people he cared about. And he does deserve nice things.

Nice things like someone who loves him unconditionally and without reserve. Nice things like seeing his brother finally escape the life and settle down with an awesome woman. Nice things like having a son to take care of.

And, maybe, nice things like getting to hang out on the beach with his family without having to stop the world from ending.

He turns his head to kiss Cas on the cheek before getting up to stand in front of everyone.

“Who wants to play pickle?” he asks, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

Eileen raises her hand. “Me!”

Dean grabs the baseball mitts and tosses one to her. “Sam? Jack? Cas?”

Jack jumps up with Cas close behind, but Sam shakes his head.

“Uh-uh, we’re ALL playing,” Dean says as he grabs Sam’s arm.

His brother rolls his eyes but he gets up. “What’s the point of asking ‘who wants to play’ if you’re just going to make us play?” Sam teases. Dean swats his arm.

He explains the rules to Jack and Cas as Eileen sets up the bases by making mounds of sand.

They don’t keep score while they play. Dean and Eileen let Jack be “safe” when they definitely could have tagged him out, the same mercy absent when Sam gets near them. Dean swears Cas kissed him just to distract him while Sam and Jack ran at least once, but Cas won’t admit to it.

Part II: Castiel

Castiel loves the ocean.

Unlike Dean, he had been many times. But he wasn’t going to brag about it. Most of that time had been spent in quiet observation rather than in volleyball tournaments anyway, so he doubted Dean wanted to hear about it.

Dean once told him in passing that people born near the ocean, in the fresh sea air, were healthier. He’d talked about the pull some experienced - people born near water often come back to it, almost always ended up living near it. Castiel could understand why.

Humans that lived around it always had gods for the sea. Often, the sea god was among the more important in the pantheon. Abzu of Mesopotamia was the father of all the other gods. Poseidon was one of the big three in Greece. In some cultures the sea was ruled by a multitude of deities.

The respect people had for the ocean was well-deserved. The fear, as well. It was one of the most dangerous natural forces. But humans were always trying to push the boundaries of their capabilities. They’d gone to space, after all.

Castiel found it interesting that humanity was able to travel through space better than through Earth’s oceans, that more people had been on the moon than had seen the bottom of the Mariana Trench.

He sometimes thought about the more philosophical reasons why they turned their eyes upward rather than down. When he started to spend more time around humans, he started to develop some hypotheses. Maybe humans want to look to the future, and the past is in the ocean. Life started there. Maybe they didn’t want to face Creation, but wanted to Create.

Of course, the simpler answer was that deep sea vessels were required to be approximately 1100 times stronger than spacecraft in order to withstand the pressure. But humans had almost always been more interested in the sky than the sea. There was more funding for space, more media regarding it.

And Castiel did love those stories as well. The stories humans told about space were often filled with hope, while the ocean was filled with monsters (to be fair, the Leviathan had come from the sea, and they were certainly monstrous). Most ocean tales were set on the surface anyway.

But the surface was fascinating, too. It’s near the surface where the most colorful fish in the Great Barrier Reef live: bright yellow butterfly fish, striking turquoise and orange parrotfish, beautifully striped angelfish. It’s at the surface where bottlenose dolphins and humpback whales play, where Portuguese men o’ war float to sting unsuspecting plankton.

He could watch the sea for eons. Had done so, in fact. During the beginning, most of the angels watched humanity. Castiel had often turned his eyes to nature, to the flora and fauna of the Earth. That in turn pointed his gaze to the sea, seeing as how more than three quarters of life on the planet was to be found under the waves (the vast majority even now as yet unidentified by human science).

Some of Earth’s oldest creatures resided still under the rollicking waves of the sea. Most sharks and the lobe-finned coelacanth had hardly changed in the millions of years they’d existed. Castiel knew, because he had watched.

He watched as life arose from the simple organic compounds found in the depths. He watched the first fish climb onto land. He watched as God flooded the world, as Moses parted the Red Sea. He watched humanity’s exploration, as well: Polynesian way finders discovering the tiniest of islands in the Pacific, the mad race to the South Pole that spanned the first few years of the 20th century, the first submarines.

☼ ☼ ☼

Castiel continues his watching today. He sits on a blanket watching Sam and Eileen help Jack make a sand castle, the shape oddly reminiscent of the Tower of Babel. He turns to tell Dean this, but Dean is lying down next to him under the shade of the umbrella, eyes closed under his sunglasses and hands folded behind his head.

Castiel takes the opportunity to let his eyes travel over Dean’s body, admiring the splattering of freckles across his chest. He lingers over Dean’s middle, which has gotten a bit squishy in their time being retired, which Castiel loves. It showed him that Dean was safe and healthy, eating more than he would if he was stressed or on endless hunts. He almost reaches out to poke Dean in the side, but he resists.

When his gaze reaches Dean’s face once again, he’s met with a pleased expression. Dean opens his eyes and smirks, lowering the sunglasses onto his nose.

“I can feel you starin’ at me.”

Castiel smiles down at him. “My apologies. Were you asleep?”

“Well, I’m up now.”

Dean sits up, puts his arms around Castiel, tucks his chin onto his shoulder, rubs his cheek against Castiel’s ear.

Castiel revels in the touch. It had taken Dean a while to be comfortable showing this level of affection, and another while before he was okay showing affection in public. Cas was patient with him, of course. The rewards were well worth it.

Sometimes Castiel got the urge to go overboard, to grab Dean’s face in the supermarket and kiss him till they both can’t breathe, to tell everybody and anybody who would listen at the bus stop that the man that he loves loves him back.

But right now he’s happy with a solid arm around his shoulders. He hums contentedly.

Dean shifts next to him. “Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Dean sighs heavily. His hands flex once, then he moves closer to Castiel, settling his body more fully against the angel’s.

“Does part of you hate me for taking this long?”

“No. No, Dean,” Castiel says without skipping a beat. “No part of me could ever hate you. Sometimes I lament the missed opportunities, and yet…even if we weren’t at this stage,” he pats Dean’s arm, “I could tell you loved me, in your own way. Although I thought that ‘way’ was different from mine. But it was enough for me then. I do very much like this, though.”

Dean is quiet for a moment. Castiel swears he can hear the montage of memories going through Dean’s brain. Maybe he’s thinking of all the times he could have told Cas how he felt, all the scenes that would have been different had they been together sooner. All the times he could have said “I love you.”

Castiel knows he’s done the same - gone back and played a scene out differently with only the tiniest of changes. Another sigh from his side makes him rest his head against Dean’s.

“Sometimes I hate myself for it,” Dean says quietly, barely audible over the crash of waves and squawk of seagulls.

“Don’t. Please.”

“I wanna make it up to you somehow.”

Castiel turns to kiss Dean’s temple. “You don’t have to,” he says into his hair.

“Yeah, but I’m gonna.”

“Hmm,” Castiel hums in thought. He looks out to the waves and watches them wash over the shore. The water looks beautiful and, Castiel thinks, inviting. “You could start by going into the water with me?”

He can almost feel the weight lift from Dean’s shoulders. “You got it, sunshine.”

Dean jumps up with newfound purpose and grabs both Cas’ hands to haul him up, dragging him towards the surf. When they pass the others, Sam looks up with a smile.

“We’re going swimming,” Castiel says enthusiastically, letting go of one of Dean’s hands to sign as much to Eileen when he sees her look up at them.

Sam jerks his head, confused. “Do you know how?”

“I don’t think so!” Cas says, smiling.

“Dean!”

“He’ll be fine!” Dean shouts over his shoulder.

They run together the rest of the way, chasing a wave as it recedes. Dean lets go of Castiel’s hand when his feet hit the water.

“Fuck, that’s cold!”

“Yes, the south-moving current off the coast here brings the cold water from Alaska,” Castiel says as he steps in. He shivers and continues. “Plus upwelling brings the deep ocean water towards the surface.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dean says over his shoulder as he goes deeper.

“Indeed.”

Castiel follows him further. He stops when the water reaches his Enochian tattoo, and Dean wades back towards him.

Dean dives under a wave while Castiel hops up to float over it. He tries to spot Dean under the foam, but isn’t able to. Then he feels hands on his hips, and Dean pops up right in front of his face.

“Hey,” Dean says, smirking. Castiel wraps his arms around Dean’s neck.

“Hello.” He smiles before Dean kisses him. Another wave interrupts them.

Part III: Dean and Castiel

Later in the afternoon, Sam and Eileen relax on the beach chairs while Jack digs a hole big enough to stand in. Dean helped Jack dig most of it, but when his knees started to ache from the awkward angle he’d left the rest to the kid.

Now he stands with Cas at the water’s edge, their bare shoulders touching, shirts tucked into the back pockets of their swimsuits. Dean knows Cas could stand still for hours, days even, but he’s getting restless. He looks to the south and spots a small pier about a mile away.

“Walk with me?” Dean asks Cas. He holds his hand out. Cas grabs it with a smile, intertwining their fingers. With a wave at the rest of their family, they go off together.

They walk along the edge of the water, letting the sea wash away their footprints. Dean lets go of Cas’ hand only to run in front of him and splash him with a kick as a big wave comes around their feet. Cas kicks back, but Dean’s already out of range. He makes a pouty face and Dean returns to his side to plant a kiss on his cheek. The next time it’s Cas who gets the upper hand.

Further along, they walk through a flock of birds. They’re not seagulls, so Dean doesn’t recognize them. He asks Cas if he knows what they’re called, and yes, he does. The small gray and white ones with black beaks are sanderlings, specifically Calidris alba. There’s a few larger, longer-beaked marbled godwits, Limosa fedoa, mixed in as well.

“Do you know all the names for things?” Dean asks.

“I know most, yes.”

“That’s awesome, man,” Dean says sincerely.

He watches the sanderlings run back and forth, making it look as though they’re playing tag with the waves. Dean bends to pick up a small shell, no bigger than the fingernail of his thumb. He examines the alternating bands of oranges and white that mark its surface before offering it to Cas.

“I never really learned about this kinda stuff. Honestly I don’t know much about the natural world, y’know? Too focused on the supernatural.”

Cas nods, taking the shell and holding it up. “I could teach you some of it. Gould beanclam, Donax gouldii,” he says.

“Ah, I’m not smart enough to remember it.”

Cas stops walking, turning to fully face Dean with a serious look. “Don’t discredit yourself, Dean. You’re very smart. You didn’t have much of a formal education yet you still know so much. I would even rate the practical, useful knowledge you have over my list of factoids, because why would you ever need to know that scallops have up to 200 eyes unless you’re trying to impress someone with fun facts?”

Dean breathes out a laugh, just a sharp exhale through his nose. He turns to keep walking, using his elbow to nudge Cas along. To anyone else he would seem dismissive, but Cas can tell Dean appreciated what he’d said. He pockets the shell, thinking about where to put it in their room when they get back home.

“Guess so,” Dean says. “And I don’t hafta impress anyone anymore.” He grabs Castiel’s hand again. “You’re already impressed with me, right?”

“Of course, dear, you’re highly impressive,” Cas says just a little sarcastically. Dean squeezes.

“Hell yeah, I am.”

They walk in comfortable silence, watching the birds and the people.

Cas has to jump out of the way of a kid on a purple boogie board. Dean throws a foam football back to a group of players. Cas wonders if he should have brought a bottle of sunscreen so he could reapply it to Dean. Dean enjoys the heat on his back.

After about forty minutes, they reach the pier. They walk down it, avoiding skateboarders and glancing into fishermen’s buckets. Castiel comments on the interesting pale turquoise color of the railing as they lean over it to watch the surfers below.

To Dean’s delight, there is a small aquarium at the end of the pier. They put their shirts on and step inside.

A teenage girl in a blue vest greets them, offering to tell them about the cast of a seal skull she has in front of her. Dean listens receptively, glancing at Cas a few times to confirm if her facts are accurate. He nods each time.

They walk around the small space, sidestepping kids and appreciating the variety of creatures on display.

“You got a favorite fish?” Dean asks Castiel when they reach the kelp forest tank.

“Angelfish,” Cas says immediately.

Dean glares at him. “Wow. You couldn’t even say that with a straight face.”

Cas smiles, proud of his joke. He shrugs, turning back to the tank. “In sincerity, I don’t know if I could decide.” He leans towards the glass, following a Sheephead as it swims in front of the kelp. “They’re all charming in their own ways.”

Dean is uncharacteristically quiet in response, so Cas turns to him. There’s so much unrepressed love on Dean’s face that Cas almost asks him if something is wrong. But then Dean’s smirking at him, trademark confidence on his features.

“YOU’RE charming in your own ways,” he says, quirking an eyebrow.

Cas laughs. “Thank you, Dean.”

Before they head back, Dean leads Cas under the pier.

The sand is cooler and the waves are louder, echoing against the concrete above their heads. Dean leans against a pillar and pulls at Cas’ shirt. Dean goes to kiss him but is stopped by Cas bopping him on the nose with two fingers. He scrunches it in confusion, then he feels the heat bleed out of his face.

“You were getting sunburnt,” Cas says in explanation before kissing him.

Dean worries for a split second if anyone saw Cas heal him, but then Cas’ tongue is in his mouth and he can’t think anymore. Dean loses himself to the feeling of Cas against him for a minute, until some kids shouting nearby reminds him they’re surrounded by people. He pulls back and Cas follows the motion, trying to capture his lips again, but Dean stops him.

“Hey, uh, maybe we should keep it PG, yeah?”

Cas is still staring at his mouth, which makes Dean almost up it to PG-13, but then he flicks his eyes up to Dean’s. “Ah. This is not because you’re embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“No, no, I just don’t want some punk teenager yelling at us to get a room, y’know?”

“We could simply tell them we do have a room.” He keeps his hands steady on Dean’s hips.

Dean laughs. “Yeah, with my brother, his girl, and our son in it, so that’s not - nevermind, I’ll explain later.” He kisses Cas once, quick, then maneuvers himself out from in between Cas and the pillar. “C’mon, let’s walk back.”

On the way, Dean gets an idea.

“So, do you wanna come back here with me later tonight? We could watch the stars, just the two of us.”

“The moon is going to be almost full tonight, we wouldn’t see many stars.”

“Then we could do…something else.”

Cas quirks one eyebrow up in question. “What could we do?”

Dean does a double take, mischievous smile turning into a fond one when he realizes Cas doesn’t understand what he’s implying.

“Ah, you’ll see.”

They return to Jack and Sam hitting a beach ball back and forth, Eileen reading under the umbrellas. Dean runs up to steal the ball and sprints away with it, Sam on his heels. Cas joins Eileen.

“How is the book?” he signs.

“I’m almost halfway done and I still don’t know if I like the protagonist.”

Cas is about to ask if she thinks that was intentional on the author’s part when he hears Dean shout. He looks over just in time to see Sam catch up to his brother and tackle him into the water. Eileen giggles at the way Sam shakes his hair when they surface.

The beach ball rides a wave back to shore where Jack picks it up. He takes it to the blanket and places it next to Cas.

“Can I go swimming, Dad?” he asks.

“Did you reapply sunscreen while I was gone?”

“Yes.”

Cas turns to Eileen for confirmation. She nods.

“Okay.”

Jack smiles at him and Cas feels wonderful. Happy. So very happy. Eileen is smiling too, probably feeling something similar.

They watch as Jack skips down the sand to join the brothers. He runs into Dean’s arms, and Dean swings him around before throwing him into the water. He pops up a second later, laughing. Sam starts a splash war, and Cas and Eileen return to their literary conversation.

☼ ☼ ☼

Soon after they have a second round of hot dogs and burgers from the Surf Food Stand, it’s sunset.

Jack asks why the sky changes colors like that. Cas gives an incredibly detailed and scientific explanation, discussing the bending of light at different wavelengths through the atmosphere. Dean watches them fondly. He turns an equally fond look to Sam and Eileen, silently signing to each other. She’s sitting in Sam’s lap on the beach chair.

Dean sighs serenely, turning to watch the streaks of orange light dance on the water.

They pack up the Impala before it gets too dark. Once they’ve put everything away, they take a moment in the changing room near the parking lot to put on warmer clothes (and, by Dean’s instruction, to get all the sand off so none gets in Baby).

Already having changed into the dark gray hoodie and matching sweatpants Dean bought for him, Castiel takes the time to walk back down the sand to look out over the ocean.

He stands at the edge of the water, just far enough so the waves don’t reach his feet. He sees Venus shining in its place low in the sky. His tracks a few airplanes as they start their journey west over the Pacific.

Then Dean is standing next to him. Castiel looks over to see Dean looking out over the horizon. He admires Dean’s profile, appreciates how the blue light of just-after-sunset softens his features, how it makes his eyes look bluer than usual. He’s back in his usual jeans, with a dark blue hoodie on top.

“We’re ready to go,” Dean says after a moment.

“Okay.”

But neither of them move. They stand there together, silently listening to the steady roar of the waves. The breeze off the water stirs the hair on Cas’ forehead.

“You gonna tell me about it someday?” Dean asks.

“About what?”

“Y’know. All the time you were around before humanity.”

“That would take far too long.”

Dean makes a noise of agreement. “Then the highlights? Tell me what dinosaurs looked like, at least.”

He puts his arm around Castiel and turns him towards the car. He leaves his arm there as they walk across the sand, still warm despite the lack of sunlight. Cas lifts his hand to hold Dean’s where it rests on his shoulder.

“That would take the fun out of museum visits, wouldn’t it?” Cas says. “Me pointing out all the inaccuracies?”

Dean laughs. “Nah, that sounds like a blast.”

☼ ☼ ☼

The hotel room is small, but it has everything they need. Two queen beds take up most of the room, but there’s a coffee table with a small two-person sofa at the foot of one, as well as a small desk with one office chair. They had forgone fancier accommodations in order to be as close as possible to the beach. They were lucky they even found one room in this place, most hotels were already booked up. It was summer, after all.

Dean pulls a pack of cards out of his bag and slaps it down on the coffee table. He drags the chair over to the table for Cas and sits with Sam on the floor in front of the table, Jack and Eileen taking the sofa.

Dean argues for poker but Eileen talks him out of it, citing that the hunters would probably have an unfair advantage against Cas and Jack. They settle on a few rounds of blackjack without betting, despite Dean trying to get some started using the various snacks they’d brought with them (if some snacks are handed over wordlessly between the brothers as they play, no one comments on it).

When it’s time for bed, Jack goes to take his usual place in between Dean and Cas, but they persuade him to go for the other bed. They’re going for a night walk and don’t want to disturb him when they return. Jack just as happily settles in between Sam and Eileen, and Dean promises they won’t be long.

It’s a short few blocks from the hotel back to the beach. When they reach the sand, Cas glances at the empty lifeguard tower. “Is this allowed?”

Dean shrugs, a blanket rolled up under his arm. “Probably not, but who cares? It’s a pretty small beach, dude, no one’s gonna come check.”

Cas smiles conspiratorially, taking delight in this little rule breaking. “Okay.”

The light from the moon illuminates the beach so they have an easy time finding their way. It glints off the foam of the waves. The sand is cool under their feet.

Dean walks to where the sand starts to slope down to the water, so if they sit they won’t be seen from the sidewalk. He lays the blanket down and lies back on it.

“C’mere,” he says, opening his arms up and making a beckoning motion with his hands towards where Cas stands.

Castiel knows what he’s implying this time. He sinks down, knees on either side of Dean’s hips. He steadies himself on one elbow next to Dean’s head, the other resting softly on Dean’s chest. Dean reaches up to grab the back of his neck to bring him the rest of the way down.

Dean loves when Cas kisses him. It makes him feel loved, and it reminds him that he’s worth that love, too. And Castiel loves when Dean kisses him, too, of course. It floods him with relief because it shows him Dean feels the same way he does, because for so long he’d thought that wasn’t true. But it is. They love each other.

This particular kiss is deep, slow, filled with a heat it couldn’t have been with other people around to bear witness. It’s like the ones they save for totally private moments, when Jack is away at Sam and Eileen’s, when there are no wayward hunters taking refuge in the bunker with them, snacking on Dean’s baked goods (he was getting really good - they’d even had people stop by just for his cinnamon rolls).

With nothing but the moonlight and the crash of the waves around them, Dean lets himself be loudly enthusiastic, moaning and making breathy noises into Cas’ mouth. His hands roam up and down Cas’ sides, his fingers rake down Cas’ back. He’s probably exaggerating with the noise a bit, but Cas doesn’t seem to mind.

In fact, he takes it as his cue to go a little further. He runs his fingers under the hem of Dean’s shirt and hoodie, pushing them up so he can explore Dean’s torso with one hand.

Castiel’s hand is surprisingly warm against Dean’s skin. When it reaches his chest, Cas rolls a nipple in between his fingers, the way he knows Dean likes. Dean arches off the blanket into the touch, breaking their kiss to gasp and bite his lower lip. When he opens his eyes, Cas is looking down at him, very pleased with himself.

“Yes, you know how to turn me on. You don’t have to look so smug about it,” Dean says, slightly embarrassed under Cas’ gaze.

“Hmm,” Cas hums before pinching a little harder.

“Ah…”

“I’ve been wanting to touch you like this all day. When appropriate, of course.”

“Is that right?” Dean tries for cockiness, but he’s too breathless to pull it off.

Then Cas is on his neck, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses from his ear to where the hood of his sweatshirt covers his collarbone. Dean grabs a fistful of Cas’ hair just to have something to hold onto.

“Uh huh,” Castiel breathes into his neck. The feeling against his spit-slick skin makes Dean shiver.

Dean’s hips jerk up involuntarily, Castiel a solid weight on top of him. He almost whines, almost, when Cas pulls his hoodie back down over his stomach. But Castiel puts his mouth back on Dean’s and he forgives him. Then Cas starts moaning and moving his hips, and Dean isn’t exaggerating anymore.

When Cas moves to unbutton Dean’s jeans, he grabs Cas’ wrist.

“Okay, actually, hold on Cas,” he giggles. “We’re gonna have to slow down because we cannot have sex on the beach.”

“Why not? I thought that was the purpose of being here now.”

“Trust me, there are certain places you don’t want sand.”

“Hmmph.” Cas smushes his face into Dean’s chest and lets his whole weight fall on Dean, his arms splayed out on either side of them. “You’re probably right,” he murmurs into Dean’s sweatshirt.

Dean laughs, which jostles Cas’ head. “I know I’m right.” He gets one hand under Cas’ chin and lifts his head up to look into his eyes. “You should keep kissing me, though.”

Castiel smiles. “Okay.”

“And believe me, I’m flattered that you want me right here right now but - mmph!” Dean’s cut off by Cas covering his mouth with his own.

Dean was right about no one checking the beach. They aren’t interrupted.

After a while longer, Dean’s flip flop clad feet feel like they’re going to freeze off and Castiel realizes the late hour when he checks the moon’s position in the sky. They head back to the hotel.

They sneak back into the room as quietly as they can, but Cas insists they at least rinse off in the shower before going to sleep. When they emerge in their pajamas, they see Jack looking up at them from his spot in Sam and Eileen’s bed.

“Goodnight,” he whispers sleepily.

“Goodnight,” Dean whispers back. Cas goes over to kiss Jack on the top of his head before joining Dean under the covers.

☼ ☼ ☼

The rest of the week goes as planned. Some highlights:

Cas seems to be a natural at surfing, standing up on the board for almost every wave. Dean’s not as lucky, but he doesn’t hurt himself.

Eileen wins a huge unicorn for Sam at one of the shooting games on the Santa Monica Pier. It barely fits in the Impala.

Castiel spots a striped shore crab in the tide pools of Abalone Cove. It scuttles under a rock when the shadow of his finger passes over it as he points it out to Jack.

Dean finally gets his drink with a tiny umbrella at a very fancy beachside restaurant in Malibu.

[longitud-de-onda]

Porque el querer causa pena, pena que no tiene fin

pairing; mad sad genius (we never got a name) x reader summary; you can love someone with all your heart, but nothing compares to the madness that exists in their absence rating; t warnings; language, a bit of alcohol, angst, it isn’t specifically covid-19 but it is a pandemic science fiction story, so the quarantine and other situations are taken to the extreme which could be potentially triggering depending on how you’re handling the quarantine. word count; 3.0k a/n; this is fanfic for ngozi anyanwu’s for all the lovesick mad sad geniuses which aside from pedro’s amazing performance, is a brilliant monologue. we’re taking the title from the rosalía song (maldición, cap. 10: cordura) that helped inspire this.

You met him at an art gallery. It was your own show, and you were standing in the corner drinking wine from a clear plastic cup, the edge of which was sharp against your lips. You held a paper plate with five almonds, a mozzarella and tomato crostini, and a mini chocolate cupcake carefully balanced in your other hand.

He was standing in front of your favorite piece. No one else was. Probably because the gallery owner told you it wasn’t the sort of work that would stop anyone. That out of all the work in your collection, it was the type that belonged in the back, where it would be found by the people who cared enough to wander there, whose interest would likely be piqued enough for them to enjoy it. It hurt to hang it up on the back wall and not up in the front where you wanted it.

But he hadn’t stopped at everything else. He had walked into the gallery minutes before, giving every painting a quick glance before settling on the one in front of which he was standing. He had been there for almost five minutes before you decided to walk up next to him.

He looked over upon seeing you approach and your heart stopped. He was the most beautiful person you had ever seen. His smile reached his eyes and you found yourself falling into them. You almost asked him if he would model for you.

You didn’t paint portraits.

“This one is beautiful,” he told you.

You smiled and took a sip of your wine. You didn’t need convincing that it was beautiful. That much you already knew. It was the one piece you were confident beyond belief about.

“What do you like about it?” you asked, jutting your chin up at the painting in question.

“The artist seems to have cared. You can see the brushstrokes. They’re more detailed than the others. Someone only spends that much time on something they really care about.”

That was when you fell in love with him. Thirty-three words. That was all it took.

Your first date was dinner after the gallery closed for the night and he dragged you out to his favorite burger joint because he said you deserved it after opening an exhibition. After wolfing down more than enough food and splitting a tub of fries, you spilled out onto the streets in a pile of laughter and joy and you’ll never forget the look on his face when you asked for his number.

Your second date was a night you’ll never forget. He had taken two days to contact you after the first night, and you had begun to worry you would never hear from him again, but he called you and said he wanted to meet you at 6pm the next day and to dress nicely. You showed up where he told you too and he was there with that goddamn smile.

He took you to a Chinese restaurant and said I’d take you somewhere nicer but I don’t think you’re that kind of woman. And you would have slapped any other guy in the face but he looked so earnest and he was right about you. It was like he could read you like a book. And when you laughed he’d sometimes stop laughing with you just to stare with a certain reverence that made you question what you did to deserve the sort of man who looked at you that way.

He took you past all the big theaters showing musicals and stopped at one tucked away with a modest set of doors but the grandest entry hall you had ever seen. You let him lead the way as he took you through the doors into the auditorium and you walked down the aisles to seats near the front.

You didn’t know what you had done to let him know you loved comedies, but he had picked out the perfect play. By the time it was over your stomach hurt from laughing so hard and your eyes held the watery ring around them from your tears. You hit the cool night air just as it started raining, and any other time you would have run for cover but with him and his smile next to you, you didn’t give a shit.

The aimless wandering that night was your favorite part. You were doubled over laughing as he told you the parts of the play he liked, and the parts he didn’t.

“She was a fucking genius and a poet, you know?” he said.

“Who?”

“The playwright.”

“What? Why?” you asked.

“She wrote a play about another fucking genius,” he said. “And despite it being the funniest shit ever made, it still had all those deep-ass lines. You know, like, ‘If you got one friend when you die then most people never have something like you.”

And he didn’t know why you started giggling until you calmed yourself enough to tell him what the real quote was in between fits of laughter. He had that look from earlier that night on his face. The one where it was like he didn’t even know you could see him. He gazed at you like he could see you. Not just on the surface, but underneath everything too. Like he could see every thought that went through your head and took the time to hold every one and appreciate it before letting it go.

He leaned down to kiss you and you tilted your head up to meet him and you wondered how you hadn’t kissed him before. Why you didn’t when you said goodbye your first night. Why you didn’t when you were getting to know him over a burger. Why you didn’t let him kiss you that first fucking moment when you fell in love, right there, after he told you about your own goddamn brush strokes.

You fell in love all over again the following weekend when he took you to his favorite spot in the park, a large grassy hill overlooking all the kids playing below and you spread out a blanket and ate sandwiches that he had put into little ziploc bags. You told him that he should have packed some wine and he said baby, we didn’t need any alcohol our first two dates and you flushed and told him about the wine you had at the gallery and he laughed.

“I probably wouldn’t have had the guts to walk up to you without it,” you protested when he jokingly expressed mild disappointment.

“If you hadn’t walked up, I probably would have shouted ‘where’s the fucking artist, I need to talk to her!’ by the end of the night,” he said, and you found yourself laughing again.

“Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that’s happened at one of my exhibits,” you said.

You met him every morning before work to go out for coffee, even if it meant waking up an extra hour early because he’s a morning person. You had his coffee order memorized by the third day.

He invited you to his apartment one day and you found yourself laughing over home videos of him as a kid late into the night. When you said goodbye, your heart yearned to stay. To take one of his shirts and wear it as you curled up next to him in bed. Instead, you kissed him good night.

After dinner one evening, you brought him to your place and showed him the little studio you had in the most well-lit room. He spent almost an hour exploring it, asking you questions about every little thing, the brand of paints you liked best, the angle you preferred to set your easel, your favorite tools, your favorite color, and telling you how honored he was to be in the workplace of a genius.

You didn’t tell him he was the smartest person you had ever met.

You didn’t tell him that he was the genius out of the two of you. That he could talk about his work and you could listen for hours to his voice but not understand a single word he said. That he would talk like no one was listening and then say the most serious shit. The sort of thing that made you rethink life, and by the time you had escaped from your thoughts he was already on another topic, rambling about the multitudes of things he loved. He saw the beauty in everything.

How the hell could a man like him love you?

He was the sort of person you would hear about in movies. The type to never stop dreaming. Someone watching the two of you would think you both mad. He had his head in the clouds and you would watch from below in awe as if his brain was firing off fireworks, and then you would speak about anything and he would give you that smile and that goddamn look that drove you crazy.

Your entire life he was there, living his own life without ever having met you, and you often wondered how many times you had almost met. You lived in the same city, surely there must have been times. Hundreds if not thousands of moments in which your paths nearly crossed. Whether what kept you from meeting was a mere 3 feet of distance in a crowd or a mere 3 minutes of time and space in which one of you was running late or early to something along which way you would have found him.

But you were lucky to have met him when you did. Gotten to share the brief moments while they lasted. That was before the virus hit.

You were sitting on his kitchen counter, covered in acrylic paint he had bought at the grocery store as the two of you detailed messy renditions of Van Gogh’s work on his cabinet doors, and he had wrapped his dirty hands around your waist, leaving two purple handprints on your painting shirt, and pulled you into a kiss. And this one was different. It was deeper, searching for more. There was more heat and passion. Your whole relationship, months of it, had been slow and beautiful and intimate, but there were times where it was more like friendship then romance and neither of you minded as you walked along the fine line between the two, happy with the state of things as they were. But you had loved him since the first day and you didn’t mind the idea of, one day, collapsing naked and sweaty into bed with him instead of snuggling up against his side as he wrapped you in his arms like he usually did when you did decide to spend the night.

But that was for another day. You broke apart after minutes to return to your project. By the end of the night you were screwing the doors back in and he was admiring everything. If you were being honest, he was completely helpless when it came to handiwork. Couldn’t hammer a nail, tighten a screw, sand some wood, or even recreate a decent Starry Starry Night, but that didn’t matter. Because his kitchen looked vibrant and beautiful and the art reminded you of all the ideas you could see swirling in his head. The fucking genius.

The reports had started to come in by then, but it wasn’t until the following morning that you realized how serious everything had gotten. Schools announced that day that they were closing. He called to tell you he was working from home. You got the call that evening that you would be too.

A week later and you had met with him once, in the park. It was a long trek for both of you, living on opposite sides of the city. But the brief kisses, kind words, and soft touches on the waist, thighs, arms, neck, jaw, nose, back, anything? Those were all worth it.

The following day you learned you couldn’t leave your neighborhood. You video-chatted with him in tears. If only you had let yourself follow the thoughts of moving in with him instead of stamping them out as soon as they started to take root in your head. If only you had let him spend the night one more time. So you wouldn’t be clinging to his fading smell on the t-shirt you stole from his closet.

It was like your whole world cut out when the strikes started. No internet. No cell service. No connection. The postal service was all but gone, and you had no way of connecting with him. Your only source of news was the newspaper, three times a week, delivered to your doorstep. And your neighbor who got it every day and would shout to you the important things.

You wished you had photos of him framed around the house. 

Then when you did, the sight of him staring at you from every corner of your apartment was enough to drive you mad with longing that you took them all down. 

When the government got the strikes under control, they started to introduce the plans for rolling out the internet services again. Things had become grim. You spent every night dreaming of him, but you were starting to forget his face. Did his nose curve that much?  Were the creases around his eyes that deep? Was his shabby beard that full? Did he have dimples, or were you just making that up?

You would stare at the photos on your phone, desperately trying to commit him to memory. Remember how he looked when the man in the photo came to life in three dimensions. How did he walk? How did he wave his hands?

By that time, life was different. You didn’t make art anymore. What was once your life had been shoved into your studio room, the light turned off, and the tubes of paint left to dry up. Your apartment didn’t smell like clay and charcoal and linseed oil anymore. You didn’t have it in you to keep painting. You went to the grocery store once every fourteen days, grabbing produce and frozen goods, bottles of alcohol and some cleaning supplies before handing over your newly minted ration card to receive the staples. Rice, pasta, beans, eggs, flour, sugar, a couple bags of dried fruit, a bottle of milk. It wasn’t so bad when you lived on your own, but you felt bad for the mothers and fathers in line behind you, knowing that their children might be too picky to even eat the food they were lucky to get.

The introduction of connectivity services was a slow process. Neighborhood by neighborhood across the country so as not to overwhelm the systems. There were new rules. It was only to be used for three things: education, work, and essential communication between legal family members.

Your finger hovered over the call button next to his name hundreds of times, but you could never press it out of fear that someone would be watching or listening. You knew that when you walked the streets they were. It was likely the same for your phone now too.

One day in a drunken fit of anger and yearning and the craze of love, you deleted all the photos on your phone, hoping that maybe without them you could forget how much you missed him.

You tried to forget him. But every night you dreamt of his slowly warping face. You wondered if he was doing the same.

Sometimes you would watch the DVDs you had and try to replace his image in your head with the actors. Sometimes it would work and weeks would go by with only dreams of the movies. But it would always lose its effectiveness. Usually around the time that you remembered that he was probably your soulmate and you didn’t get enough time.

In every single one of the possibilities of your lives together that you daydreamed about for hours every day, there was never enough time. But this reality was the worst. You were sure of that.

You had read every book in your house. Read every poem you could get your hands on, even the ones you had risked your life for in searching them on the internet, carefully saving pdfs and screenshots and printing them out on the dwindling paper in your apartment. Words didn’t do the same thing they used to anymore. They didn’t bring joy and excitement and escape. You stopped reading them.

You talked with your neighbor for the first time in a month. It seemed that almost everyone had stopped reading books. You wondered if people stopped doing other things too. 

The world before was starting to blur around the edges. You couldn’t remember if the path you liked to walk in the park had such an erratic course or if it was more subtle than you could remember. What did you like to do on the weekends? There was a place, a building, that you liked to go to. You couldn’t remember what it was called or what was inside, but you remember the feeling of standing there. The musty smell and the awe and the sensation that you were staring out at all of humanity. And you had no idea what the fuck it was. 

You weren’t sure how much of the world before you had forgotten. But you couldn’t shake him from your memory. You wished you could. 

When you weren’t working you were cooking or eating or sleeping. And when you weren’t doing that, it constituted the dangerous time where you didn’t have anything to do and nothing to interest you.

And every fucking thing you did, be that making pasta or lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling, made you think of him. You had loved him as you’d never loved anyone before. And you never told him. Did he even know that you loved him? Did he know that you knew he loved you back?

You would close your eyes and the only thing you were sure of in your mind’s image of him was that goddamn smile.

.

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[taelme]

Dance major!Sicheng

genre: school!au,  dance major!sicheng (slight angst, fluff, slow burn) 

pairing/s: Sicheng / Reader (ft Xiaojun, Ten and Renjun n some of the 127 boys!) 

word count: 18k+ 

tw: mentions of alcohol use, like tension between Sicheng and his parents...(this is fictional of course pls keep this in mind Sicheng’s relationship with his parents that I portrayed in this is in not real and this is just based off of personal experience pls) 

a/n: only now am I realizing how many of my works include substance use lmao I need to calm down.. anyway this is just something I wanted to do for Sicheng inspired by his ‘lovely’ dance with Ten for ‘Rainbow V’ as well as by the videos of him dancing Chinese traditional dance in general!! believe me,... the amount of videos and compilations I've watched of him doing traditional dance is....a lot more than I'm proud to disclose HAHHA .. also there are some mandarin words mentioned here that I referenced from things sicheng has said before so yes that's all anyway enjoy!!

“We’re gonna have to start closing up soon,” you murmured, leaning down to massage your calf, beginning to feel sore after what felt like a whole day of standing.

It was your faculty’s turn to raise money for underprivileged students in your school to start the second half of the semester, the classes in your department setting up various booths ranging from food and beverage to booths like yours, selling customized handmade bracelets.

“You look tired,” one of your friends told you, earning a wholehearted nod from you.

“Very.”

Laughing, she shook her head at you, handing you the file containing your money collected from your sales, “D’you mind helping us collate this? We’ll go grab the rest of our bags and stuff from the lounge.”

You nodded, getting your phone out and kneeling at the table, dividing the money by quantity and starting to key in your phone calculator, your train of thought getting interrupted when you’d received a text from your friend Xiaojun, finishing your calculations before checking his message.

xiaojun 5:07pm -i can come to ur booth now !-

You huffed, your knees starting to hurt from the rough surface of the floor, typing out your reply to him with your pen still clasped in your hand.

5:09pm -we’re already almost closing ure a little late-

xiaojun 5:09pm -its ok i have friends with money they can donate even if they dont buy anything! where is ur booth-

5:09pm -@ the entrance of the design and performing arts school- xiaojun

Xiaojun 5:09pm - perfect -

“Y/N!” you heard the echo of someone whose voice was so distinctively Xiaojun it gave you goosebumps, looking up from your phone and spotting the boy himself walking alongside two other boys. 

You first noticed they were very well dressed, giving you the vibe that they were from the design and arts department, possessing a different sort of charisma that was made even more obvious when they were walking next to a bouncy smiley Xiaojun.

You gave him a grimace, looking back at the list of ibanking transactions, adding up the total of that with what you’d calculated for physical money, eyebrows raised in surprise at the total, not expecting to have raised so much more than your class had initially expected.

“Y/N, this is Ten and Sicheng,” Xiaojun gestured to the two boys next to him, identifying the shorter of the two with short cropped hair with multiple piercings adorning his ear to be Ten, and the other taller boy with dark brown hair to be Sicheng, who simply gave you a nod in greeting.

“Nice to meet you,” Ten had smiled at you, instantly brightening his demeanour as he gravitated towards the beads and string. “Can I make one?” he was already starting to pick up the roll of thread, measuring it around his wrist.

“You didn’t even wait for her to say yes,” Sicheng pointed out with a sigh despite being busy with his phone, causing Ten to give you a sheepish smile.

You nodded reassuringly, gesturing to the materials, “sure, go ahead, we’re already done for the day, anyway,” you smiled.

Xiaojun had made his way around the table, making a loud displeased sound when he saw that you were kneeling on the floor. “Can’t you at least sit on a chair or something?” he clucked his tongue, making you roll your eyes. Your bickering had unknowingly caught Sicheng’s attention, the boy silently observing the way you and Xiaojun interacted as he typed out a reply to Renjun who was currently asking where on earth he was.

“I would if there was any chairs here,” you scoffed.

Xiaojun was about to retort when his gaze flickered to the numbers you were so busy writing down, “Wow! You guys made this money just selling bracelets?!” You shushed him quickly, not wanting to attract unwanted attention, but at the mention of money, Sicheng visibly perked up, making his way away from Ten to the table you and Xiaojun were at, curious to see the amount.

His eyes widened upon seeing the number, glancing quickly at the rates you sold each bracelet for. 

“Wow,” he drawled, his eyebrows raising in surprise, “have you guys done this before?”

You were startled to find how different his voice sounded from what you’d expected, low and holding a certain thickness to the sound. Watching him pull the sleeves of his sweater to his elbows, he’d picked up the sheet of paper, analysing it before placing it back down on the table with a nod, looking back at you for your reply.

You knew you thought he was pretty when you first saw him, but your breath hitched at the discovery that he was even prettier up close. Sicheng. Even his name was pretty. You thought Xiaojun took care of his appearance, but Sicheng was on a whole other level.

Realising he was still waiting for your reply, you quickly shook your head, watching how his lips curved into a small smirk, nodding with an impressed pout on his lips.

“Well you should, you wouldn’t even need to get part-time jobs if you just promoted these,” he proposed casually. This earned him an obnoxious snicker from Ten, whose neck was still craned as he made his bracelet, struggling with a particularly small one.

“Saying it like that isn’t gonna make them give you any of the profit, you know,” Ten’s teasing tone did nothing to deter Sicheng, who simply shrugged.

Xiaojun chimed in quickly, waving his finger at Sicheng as he laughed with Ten, “This guy’s like that. He’ll propose the idea and make you do everything else,” he told you, making Sicheng scoff, a small smile of embarrassment on his face at his friends’ teasing.

“That’s called doing business. It’s so troublesome to do all of it yourself, might as well get people to help you carry it out,” Sicheng gestured as he spoke, waving his friends off. You scrunched your nose in amusement, shoving Xiaojun aside so you could straighten up, putting the paper with the calculations into the file with the money and setting it aside.

Sicheng tried not to make it too obvious that he kept looking at you, deciding to pretend to be interested in what Ten was doing so you wouldn’t notice his furtive glances. “Who are you making that for?” he nudged Ten.

“Not you.”

A sharp tut of the tongue left Sicheng’s mouth.

“Yeah, I know. I wasn’t—never mind forget I asked,” he laughed, taking his phone out to act busy with it.

You spotted the teacher-in-charge of the event gesturing for you to start packing up. 

“Do you guys need help cleaning up?” Xiaojun gestured at the tables.

You’d started by squatting next to the table, picking up the multitude of beads that had fallen down throughout the day. Sicheng had gone over to help you since Xiaojun had chosen to hurry Ten into making his bracelet so you could pack up. He’d noticed how poorly you were balancing, wanting to tell you you could let him do it but he was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone, getting a phone call from somebody but simply tucking his phone between his ear and shoulder as he continued picking up the beads.

“Y/N,” you heard your friend’s voice, turning around a little too quickly and almost stumbling, anticipating the impact on your bum when you felt a hand on your arm, pulling you steady. Eyes widening, you regained your balance quickly, Sicheng still talking to whoever was on the phone in what you could decipher to be rushed chinese, casually removing his hand from your arm.

“What are you doing?” Renjun’s tone was exasperated, “You said you’d be here 10 minutes ago!”

Sicheng straightened up once your friend had approached you, “I got held back, I’m helping Xiaojun’s friend with something,” he emptied his handful of beads into their respective sections.

“I’m hanging up, I’ll be there in 5 minutes,” he told Renjun, hanging up promptly after.

“Guys, I have to leave, i’m gonna go find Renjun,” he spoke, Ten and Xiaojun both turning around and bidding him goodbye as he left.

You’d gotten up a little too late, your conversation with your classmate having distracted you into not noticing Sicheng leaving.

You’d gone to help your classmates bring back the tables to the storeroom, “So...” your friend drawled, mischief laced in her tone, “Xiaojun’s friends, huh?” she smirked, making you roll your eyes, a flustered scoff escaping your lips.

“What about them?” you raised an eyebrow at her, already skeptical about what she was about to say.

She shot you a look of disbelief, her smile widening, “I saw what happened just now, when the tall cutie saved you before you could fall on your ass,” she shrugged in mock nonchalance.

“He kind of scares me...” you admitted, making her burst into laughter, the obnoxious sound echoing in the empty corridor you were walking through.

“Didn’t seem like that just now when he grabbed you,” she sing-songed.

You shot her a glare, dismissing her accusations with a shake of your head. “Can you stack the tables properly,” you gestured to the haphazard stack of tables placed in an empty area of the room in her haste to get it over with, not being able to help yourself from laughing at her sheer excitement.

“Don’t try to avoid my question!” she waggled a finger at you, urging you out of the room so she could continue her interrogation.

“I’m not avoiding it, there’s literally nothing to say! I barely spoke a sentence to him,” you defended.

“What’s his name?”

“Sicheng,” you replied a little too quickly, making her squeal, “I think,” you added, just to make it seem like you totally weren’t sounding out his name in your head just moments before.

"What?" you snapped, hating how embarrassed her cheeky grin was making you, especially with her shrugging her shoulders suggestively, quirking an eyebrow and smirking at you as you returned to where Xiaojun and Ten were, seeing that your other friends had left already.

“Are you going home after this?” Xiaojun came over to you and asked once he'd noticed you were back. You nodded your head, earning a frown from Ten.

“We’re gonna stay to hang with Sicheng and Renjun, see you on Monday, then?”

Nodding, you waved goodbye to the both of them, endeared when you saw that Ten was already proudly wearing the bracelet he made, “Alright, see you.”

Glad to have made new friends, but strangely curious about Sicheng, feeling like you’d just been left hanging.

===

Thankfully for you, you had friends like Xiaojun. Though times like this you weren’t so sure whether you were so thankful for the boy sitting next to you whining about how late his friend was to meet him.

“Maybe he’s busy or something,” you shrugged, adjusting your legs so you were sitting cross legged, your laptop perched on your lap as you continued doing research for your essay.

“If he’s so busy he shouldn’t have started teaching Ren—oh my god, finally!” your head shot up from your laptop, turning to him with a confused gaze before seeing him frowning at something in front of him, turning your head to spot Xiaojun’s friend from that day at the charity event.

“Oh?” you’d accidentally blurted, catching Sicheng’s attention, making him look at you in surprise, giving you a small close-lipped smile in greeting, shoving his hand into his pocket as his other hand fiddled with his phone.

“Where did you go?” Xiaojun asked, genuine confusion laced in his tone, switching to Mandarin while he was talking to Sicheng. Not because he didn’t want you to understand, of course, but more because he was more comfortable this way. (And plus, you liked to think you had sufficient mandarin knowledge).

“What are you talking about? I told you I was outside helping Renjun this whole time,” Sicheng furrowed his eyebrows, a hint of amusement on his features. You understood the part about him being outside, somehow finding Sicheng’s personality to be rather strong, especially showcased when he was speaking mandarin.

Xiaojun’s mouth closed shut, looking slightly embarrassed, ignoring the knowing look you were giving him at how quick he was to scold Sicheng for being late.

“Oh, okay.” Xiaojun bid you goodbye quickly, Sicheng helping him off the floor and leaving promptly.

You found it strange, how he’d spent so much time in your faculty building when he wasn’t even from this faculty, only realizing why when you’d gone to help your groupmates who were spray painting their crafts outside the lounge, seeing the area usually occupied by students from the dance club practicing now taken over by Sicheng and a petite boy that you recognized to be from your faculty.

You heard the petite boy whine sulkily, looking at Sicheng with an exasperated look on his face, simply receiving a shrug and a smile from Sicheng.

“I never said this was easy to do,” he sighed deeply, looking towards the mirror to observe Renjun, catching a glimpse of you in the background.

You held the collar of your shirt over your nose, regretting not having better protection against the fumes of the spray paint, feeling a little bad for the people around you in case the fumes were too strong that it disrupted them as well.

“This one’s done, I’ll bring it aside,” you told your group members, seeing their nods of acknowledgement before using one hand to drag the long and heavy piece of cardboard to the more airy part of the area.

Sighing, you let go of your shirt, dabbing at your sweat with the back of your hand and looking around to see if anyone had been annoyed by the spray paint fumes, accidentally making eye contact with Sicheng through the large mirrors. Something made you feel prompted to say hello, but you decided against it, looking away quickly and continuing with what you were doing.

You tried not to let yourself get too distracted by seeing his demonstrations of the dance he was teaching to Renjun, trying to focus on finishing your task as fast you could so you could go back into the student lounge where there wouldn’t be a Sicheng to distract you.

Settling for just nodding in greeting to him, exchanging small smiles, you carried on seeing him and bumping into him in your faculty. Each time trying to ignore the way your mind was starting to create scenarios in your head about how you would approach Sicheng and start a conversation in another universe where you were confident enough to approach someone as pretty as him.

Sicheng too had been going through a similar dilemma in his head, debating on whether he would send the wrong message if he were to ask too many questions about you. He wasn’t usually the type to put himself out there or pursue potential love interests, it was just something about seeing you around so often and his unceasing curiosity that was starting to get the better of him.

“Your friend is my age, right?” he asked as casually as he could once when he was teaching Renjun at the mirrored area outside the student lounge, curious after seeing the multitude of things it seemed that you had to do (or maybe, just curious about you in general)

Xiaojun shot him a look of confusion, shaking his head rapidly.

“Oh my god, no, she’s my age,” he laughed, finding it weird that Sicheng would think you were his age, wondering momentarily if you looked that old.

“Oh,” Sicheng said, not realizing Xiaojun wasn’t listening to him anymore, too busy deciding whether you looked like a solid 20 year old or barely 19.

“Why’d you ask?” Xiaojun snapped out of his thoughts, turning to Sicheng with a questioning look on his face.

Sicheng shrugged casually, commenting that Renjun had done well before replying Xiaojun, “Nothing. Just…didn’t know why they looked so busy when I look at how free you are,” he grinned cheekily at the end of his statement, letting out a relieved sigh when Xiaojun had bought his excuse.

It wasn’t like Sicheng wasn’t telling the truth, because you did have a lot of things to do. Making Sicheng just the least of your worries at this point. You’d been so busy trying to churn out assignment after assignment that it was starting to take a toll on you. You hadn’t gotten a proper sleep in what was probably weeks, too busy thinking and planning time for all the things that were yet to be done, the constant worrying ridding you of a guilt-free sleep.

It wasn’t any better that you and your friends had all started spending long hours cooped up in the student lounge doing work; going home later and later as a result. And though many people would probably see that as a normal part of school life, you weren’t one for hustle culture, and you definitely weren’t used to experiencing it to such an extent, the stress from it all making you increasingly sensitive.

You’d been with your friend in the student lounge, with her trying her best to help you think of ideas that you could do for your assignment. (You didn’t think of yourself as the most creative person in the world). Hugging your jacket closer to yourself, you sighed, looking at your computer as you wracked your brains to think of a possible solution.

“I'm sorry, writing really isn't my strong suit, but I’ll try my best," she told you, tilting the computer slightly more in her direction, eyes rapidly scanning through what you had typed so far to see if she could get any inspiration for the other aspects of your assignment you had yet to think of.

You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach when you saw that her mom was calling her, asking—or demanding, it was a very fine line these days—her to come home since it was getting late. From the way she'd ended the call and looked at you, a certain reluctance mixed with sympathy in her expression, you already anticipated what she would say next.

"Y/N—" she started hesitantly.

"It's fine, really, your mom's gonna be pissed if you stay. I'll just..." you glanced at your work, trying to ignore the headache building at your temples, "...figure something out."

“—I’m really sorry,” your friend murmured, picking up her bags and shooting you one last sympathetic expression before leaving.

And now that your friend was gone, that left you sitting on the floor of the student lounge, your back against one of the pillars near the corner of the room. At this point, you'd managed to finalize your ideas, desperately wanting to get this over with, but the more you tried to think the more your ideas just weren't making sense.

Sicheng had just finished teaching Renjun for the day, strolling into the student lounge with his water bottle in hand, spotting Xiaojun sitting at the sofas using his phone.

"Renjun went home already?" Xiaojun asked, earning a nod from Sicheng, who flopped down on the sofa next to Xiaojun, a tired sigh leaving his lips.

"Do you have the stuff I needed help printing?" Sicheng felt a wave of relief upon seeing the clear plastic folder Xiaojun had taken out from his bag, handing it to Sicheng. In the process of leaning over to get his bag from where it was next to Xiaojun, Sicheng had caught a glimpse of someone that reminded him of you with your head resting on your folded arms placed on the table.

"You would not believe what I went through this morning..." Xiaojun began, not realizing he may as well have been talking to the wall due to Sicheng clearly being preoccupied with staring at your direction in concern.

Wondering if it was you, he'd glanced at the time on his watch, confirming the first bit about it possibly being you since he'd noticed you tended to stay in the student lounge later during this period.

"Yeah, and to make it even worse they're making us go to the farm!..." Xiaojun went on.

Sicheng’s suspicions were confirmed even more when he'd recognized the jacket you were wearing, having seen you wear it earlier on in the day when you'd greeted him on your way to the washroom.

She seems really tired, maybe I should tell Xiaojun? she is his friend after all...Sicheng contemplated, coming back from his thoughts to look at Xiaojun blankly.

"What did you say?" he asked Xiaojun, seeing the boy look up from his phone.

"Oh. No, I just said I needed to get going, I’m meeting my parents for dinner outside," he said simply, not seeming to have noticed that Sicheng hadn't caught a single word of his that came prior to that.

Nodding slowly, "Oh," Sicheng dragged his gaze away from you. "Okay, I think I’ll just stay here a little longer, I’m kind of lazy to leave.”

Xiaojun wasn't stupid, he'd caught Sicheng staring at your direction the moment he'd grabbed his bag, figuring he would let things flow and wait for the (much expected) updates he was likely to get from you the next day. Eyeing Sicheng suspiciously, he nodded, "Bye, see you," he waved, slinging his bag over his shoulder and leaving.

Sicheng frowned when he'd looked back at you, a part of him growing slightly hopeful when he saw you finally lift your head from the table top, rubbing at your forehead where there was now a red mark, your other hand coming up to wipe your tears roughly.

Seeing as no one else was there, and something was compelling Sicheng to check on you, he did exactly that. Making his way over to you, he crouched down next to where you sat in a squat, the feeling of a presence next to you making you turn, startled when you'd spotted Sicheng there.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Your hands flew to your face in your hurry to wipe the tears threatening to spill, turning your face away from him quickly, pretending to be busy and picking up your drink that had been neglected for God knows how long to take a sip. Ignoring the way the drink tasted diluted now from all your ice having melted, you turned back to him, holding a thumbs up with a small smile.

"Yeah, fine," you managed to muster out, trying to even out your breathing and calm yourself down.

“Uhhh...” he glanced at your face, searching your expression, noticing how your eyes got teary when you looked back at what was on your laptop screen, “hold on,” he murmured, and you tried not to let yourself get too nervous at his proximity.

Sicheng let his legs fold under him, resting his hands on his thighs as he inspected what was on your computer, receiving a pleasant surprise when he’d realized he’d done this module before.

“Do u need help? I did this module last year,” he told you, making your eyes widen, wondering just what you did in your life to warrant you such kindness from a stranger (or acquaintance, if you were being generous).  

You shot him a hesitant look, feeling embarrassed if you were to ask someone you barely knew to help with your assignment.

“Honestly, I just need to know if my ideas make sense, because I’m really rushing for time right now and every time I look at them again it just feels like I’m talking a whole lot of bullshit so I’m literally stuck because I can’t think of anything else,” you rambled, out of breath when you were done.

Not that Sicheng minded your rambling, since the boy was more focused on reading whatever you had on your computer screen, his eyes squinting as he concentrated.

In your assumption that he was squinting because he couldn’t see the words well, you’d made the words a lot bigger, making him let out a small huff of laughter.

“Thanks,” he whispered, continuing to read.

“Okay,” he turned to you with a small huff, “it’s really not as bad as you’re making it sound,” you frowned at his wording.

“So it’s bad?” your lips parted in dismay.

He giggled softly, shaking his head, “No, it’s not. After reading it, I can see that you’ve sort of got all your points here, you just need to find a way to pitch them, like...sell it, you know?”

You nodded slowly, looking back at what you’d written. Sicheng figured he’d better guide you through it since your expression remained lost as your hands hovered over your keyboard, not quite knowing how to start.

“Okay, how about, you just try to follow this structure while writing and I’ll guide you as you go, how does that sound?”

You nodded, thoughts wandering to how surreal all of this seemed to you. You already had an interest in Sicheng from all your previous encounters in school, and to have him here now offering to help you with your work just seemed a little too good to be true, like what you’d imagined would only happen to you in another universe but you figured since it was already happening you should put it to full use, nodding at him (it was clear your priorities were a little mixed up now that Sicheng was in the picture).

Sicheng gave you a sweet smile, relieved that you hadn’t rejected his offer. Not wanting to get carried away, he’d immediately started giving you prompts for your first idea. Doing as he told you to, you were surprised at how quickly you were able to get your assignment done. This was of course aside from the time you spent being distracted by his proximity while he pointed at your screen once in a while to tell you what you could do while you were ‘stuck’.

Attributing your success to him having done this subject before, you’d finished way earlier than you expected. However, just glancing at the clock you felt the dread creeping up on you as you thought of what other assignments you had left to do, your long-awaited rest just seeming to grow further and further away from you.

Sicheng leaned back in his seat, resting his elbow on his knee as he looked at you, a small smile playing at his lips as he saw the way you let out a relieved sigh as you hurriedly saved your work.

“Satisfied?” he’d asked once you finished saving your work and closing your laptop.

You couldn’t help yourself from nodding vigorously, immensely thankful for his timely appearance.

“I really can’t be assed to think any more about this stupid assignment,” you admitted, making him laugh, shaking his head.

Glancing at his watch, Sicheng looked back at you with an expectant gaze.

“Do you live nearby?”

You sighed, shaking your head as you stretched your arms out, “Takes me about a half hour bus ride? to get back?” you yawned, hands going to cover your mouth quickly.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, “You should probably be getting back, then, it’s pretty late..” He stood up with a grunt, extending a hand for you to take.

Accepting it, and standing up, you let him go grab his things as you slung your bag over your shoulder, glancing at the other people in the student lounge who were starting to leave as well, knowing for a fact that if Sicheng hadn’t offered to help you, you would be still here looking at them leave in envy.

Walking out of the student lounge with Sicheng, you’d realized just how empty the school was at this time of the day, something about the mood of the sky and the breeze you felt walking out adding to your confusing mix of feelings.

“What bus do you take?” Sicheng asked you.

Replying him quickly, you were confused as to why he’d asked when he’d just continued using his phone after that, frowning as the conversation went silent.

“The next one’s coming in 8 minutes,” Sicheng told you casually, shoving his phone into his pocket.

You never knew Xiaojun had such considerate friends.

“What bus are you taking?” you’d asked, seeing him turn to you briefly before looking back ahead.

“The same one, goes to my house as well,” he told you with a shrug, though obviously he didn’t include the part about it being like 20 minutes longer than his usual bus, but he felt like you could use the company, with the way he could practically hear you stressing from beside him.

“You look really stressed—" he cut himself off at the sound of his ringtone, seeing the caller ID had read that it was his sister, “—wait, hold on.”

He held a hand up in a gesture to stop, picking up the call and switching to mandarin to talk to his sister.

“Where are you? what are you out so late for?” she questioned.

“I’m already on my way back, don’t worry. Don’t call me, I’m hanging up.”

Ending the call quickly, you looked at him in fascination, finding the way he spoke enough to put you in a trance.

“Okay, where were we?” he said, his tone a lot more gentle than it was to whoever he was speaking to on his phone. “Right, I was gonna ask you why you looked so stressed,” he tilted his head at you, spotting the bus driving towards the bus stop.

You huffed in half-hearted laughter, gripping the strap of your bag tighter.

“I mean like...you know, with submissions and everything...it’s kind of hard for me to not think about the rest of the stuff I have left to do,” you murmured.

“Do you have a lot left?” he asked, earning a shrug from you.

You narrowed your eyes in thought before shaking your head, “It’s only a few assignments, but the problem is not really the quantity more than the tedious....ness of the assignment,” you hesitated, unsure if you were speaking actual words, but you were glad that Sicheng didn’t seem to mind, nodding patiently as you spoke.

Getting onto the bus, you’d taken a seat between the window and Sicheng, hugging your bag to your chest, Sicheng fiddling with his phone in his hands.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way through it. I mean, if Xiaojun can do it, you definitely can,” you laughed at his consolation, something in Sicheng feeling triumphant at how he’d been successful in making you smile.

“I sure hope so,” you huffed, letting a silence fall between you both.

"Thank you so much for helping me, by the way," you murmured, seeing him shake his head dismissively.

"It's okay, you don't have to thank me," he laughed.

"No, I do! What are you talking about? You didn't have to help me but you did, so you have to know that I'm really really thankful for that, okay? I like....basically owe you," you frowned.

"Look," he turned to you with a soft smile, "you can worry about repaying me another time, yeah? For now, just focus on getting a good rest at home and getting the rest of your work done."

You hummed, shooting him a reluctant look but nodding anyway, looking out the window at the passing buildings, less clearly visible due to the time of day.

“Which stop are you stopping at?” he asked you after a moment, telling him the location, murmuring that you were about to get off the bus soon, “That’s fast,” he murmured, starting to regret and wonder if he should've used the chance to make more conversation with you during the bus ride.

“How many stops do you have left?” you asked him, seeing him shrug, knowing he had at least nine more.

“About five-ish?” he shrugged, not wanting you to feel bad for him when you were already so stressed from school.

You nodded, “Alright," you frowned at the bus nearing your stop, a part of you wanting to talk more with Sicheng especially since this whole situation made you kind of forget that you had work to do for a moment.

Turning to get out of your seat, he'd given you a shy smile as you tapped out, stopping at the bus stop to wave at him through the window, making him smile at you, waving back but not without mouthing a "dont stress!" to you, holding his fist up in a gesture to cheer you on.

Nodding, you left before your smile could grow any shyer.

===

"Y/N," you heard someone call you while you were in the queue to buy coffee, turning a full circle before realizing Sicheng was standing behind you in the queue, dressed in a plain black shirt, tucked into black jeans, hands fiddling with his phone and wallet in hand.

"Oh, hi!" you said, shock evident in your tone, you noticed the petite boy who you figured was Renjun, standing next to Sicheng, eyeing him suspiciously, before turning to you and giving you a small smile in greeting.

His hair was more messy today, but not the i-just-woke-up kind of messy, but more of the I've-just-been-dancing-and-pushed-my-hair-back kind of messy.

In short, you thought he looked hot.

Brushing the thought away, you thought on your feet, hoping you could find some way to repay him for what he did.

“Believe it or not, I still feel bad about how you stayed behind to help me the other day, can I like...buy you a drink or something? for the sake of my conscience?" you laughed, seeing him tilt his head at you in amusement.

He hummed in thought, "I guess you can make it up to me by getting something to eat with me after your assignments are all over," he shrugged casually.

Renjun looking at him, clearly scandalized, his mouth falling open as if Sicheng had just transformed into another person.

You nodded, collecting your drink, turning back to him with a grin, "I'll take you up on that, see you.”

You tried your best to remain calm, before practically running back into the student lounge and almost tackling your friend with how excited you were.

"What does it mean if a guy you barely know stays back to help you with your work and accompanies you home and then asks you out for a meal after hell week is over?!" your words came out a mile a minute, almost spilling your drink with how she had writhed when you touched her calf, forgetting momentarily how ticklish she was.

"Is it the tall chinese-speaking cutie?!" she asked, earning a vigorous nod from you.

"Yeah! I saw him when I was getting coffee just now, and i was saying like hey, you know, why don't i buy you a drink cause like you know, I felt like I owed him for being so nice to me," you started, your friend nodding along as she listened intently to your story.

You took a sip of your drink halfway, constantly glancing around to check if anyone was within earshot, suddenly embarrassed about telling her what happened.

"Okay, so then, he suddenly says like..." you dropped the tone of your voice to a much lower one in a poor imitation of his voice, "'i guess you can make it up to me by getting something to eat with me after hell week,' and I'm like," you raised your eyebrows, eyes widening and a strangled sound of excitement escaping your lips, not being able to find a word to describe what you were feeling.

"Oh my god....so what did you say?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

"I said yes, duh!" you scoffed, groaning at how she'd hit you repeatedly on the thigh after that.

"Do you think I should have, though? I mean, he's like Xiaojun's friend and all, but like still....I don't really understand why he would go out of his way to do that for me?" you frowned, taking a long sip of your coffee.

"I mean, yeah, why not? You could be missing out on a pretty good opportunity here if you say 'no'," she told you matter-of-factly.

You frowned, picking up your laptop and placing it onto one of the stools near you, scrolling to find your work.

"I know, but it's just weird, I mean. No one's ever approached me like that, especially when I don't even know them that well," you made a face of uncertainty to her.

"Maybe you should like interrogate Xiaojun or something, see what kind of person Sicheng is," she shrugged.

You had to say, there were pros and cons to that plan, but you figured it would probably be a good move to do that.

Little did you know Xiaojun was conducting his own interrogation outside the lounge.

"You should've seen him, he was actually initiating an outing with this girl!" Renjun scoffed, looking at Xiaojun in exasperation.

Sicheng rolled his eyes, focusing on stretching before him and Ten started practicing.

"Yeah why don’t you just announce it over the PA system while you’re at it," Sicheng commented, bending down sit on the floor, stretching his leg out and reaching for his foot, grasping it easily.

Ten shot Sicheng a look, "what's your plan?" he questioned, narrowing his eyes at Sicheng.

"I don't know," Sicheng shrugged, Xiaojun didn't seem to be buying any of it.

"Do you like her?" Xiaojun asked, finding it amusing to see how much Sicheng was trying to divert the topic.

"Ten, are you done stretching?" he avoided Xiaojun's question, giving a pointed look to Ten who simply smirked at his friend.

"I'll be done when you answer Xiaojun's question," he shrugged.

Sighing, Sicheng stood up, directing an annoyed look at his friends.

"I wanna get to know her first, okay?"

Ten made a face, trying to stifle his laughter. Renjun simply sighed loudly, "he's gone, just you wait, he's gonna fall in love by next week.” Ten stared wistfully into the distance, causing Xiaojun to erupt in a fit of giggles.

"You know it's true," Xiaojun gave Sicheng a knowing look, simply receiving a shake of the head in response.

"Whatever," he nudged Ten with his shoe, "let's just start."

===

Soon enough (and very fortunately) you were done with your assignments, and though Sicheng still had one major assignment left, the moment Xiaojun had given his contact to you, you had taken the liberty of texting him to let him know you were done with your assignments.

sicheng 7:53pm -congrats, r u taking me up on my offer now, then?-

He had happened to reply you when you were talking to Xiaojun over the phone.

"What do I say?"

Xiaojun groaned, "Why are you asking me?"

"Because you're his friend! You're supposed to tell me how to approach this!" you frowned, though you knew he couldn't see you.

Xiaojun scoffed, "Sicheng is the least romantic person I know, don't get your hopes up.”

You frowned.

“Then do you think i'm getting ahead of myself with this?" Xiaojun could sense the excitement leaving your tone, making him regret saying that, not intending to have upset you, but at the same time not knowing what to tell you since Sicheng wasn't one to show his affection very freely.

"No, i mean like, Sicheng's just kind of weird in how he expresses how he feels," Xiaojun explained.

"So do you think he's just being friendly by asking me out?"

"I don't know, that really depends on how he acts around you from here on, but i've never seen what he's like when he likes someone so I really wouldn't know. But trust me, he's.....interested," he chuckled, making you gasp.

"Don't lie, are you sure?"

"I mean, forget it. It's not my place to say, i'm not him so I really wouldn't know, he's kind of hard to read if you haven't noticed." The thought lingered with you as you typed out a reply to Sicheng.

8:12pm -only if u want ofc-

sicheng 8:15pm - r u free this week? -

You typed out your reply quickly. 

8:15pm -i'm free for dinner on wednesday- 8:15pm -i end classes at like 5 that day-

sicheng 8:16pm -sure thing, but i have dance practice until like 6? u ok w meeting at 7?-

You refrained from squealing out of excitement. 

8:17pm -sure, see u then! :)-

sicheng 8:17pm - :) -

That was what ended you up in a popular hotpot restaurant at 7, reaching earlier than Sicheng who had texted you saying that he was on the way.

You definitely weren't expecting that he would walk in with the staff greeting him as if he owned the restaurant. Dressed in a casual grey hoodie and dark checkered patterned sweatpants, smoothing his hair down and adjusting his cap as he slid into the booth you were sat at.

"Sorry I'm late, did you have to wait long?" you shook your head. He wouldn't tell you, of course, that the reason he was late being that Ten was busy briefing him on how and how not to act while on a date.

"These soups are really nice, the rest are kind of weird," he admitted, gesturing to a few on the menu.

"Is there anything you don't eat?" he asked, already writing down on the menu, making orders of a considerable amount of dishes.

"Nope, go ahead," you smiled, looking at the menu and making your requests, seeing how he'd called the waiter over and ordered quickly, as if he'd done this a thousand times.

"You seem to be pretty familiar with the place, are you like a regular here?" you asked, seeing him rest his elbows on the table, covering his mouth with his hands as he smiled shyly.

Nodding with a small shrug, Sicheng glanced around at the interior of the restaurant.

"Used to come here a lot back when it wasn't so expensive, now it's kind of like a once in a while kind of thing, but the food here is great," he told you with conviction, his phone lighting up with notifications but he'd simply pushed it aside on the table.

"What did you do today?" he asked.

"Nothing interesting, if that's what you're wondering," you laughed, "just lessons, we haven't gotten any of our assignments back yet, Imean, not that I want to but-yeah." You stopped yourself, realizing you were rambling and trying your best to ignore the way Sicheng was looking at you, his blank expression making you feel like you were boring him.

Little did you know Sicheng was busy distracted by the way your lips moved when you talked, accompanied with the sweet tone of your voice making him almost forget he was part of the conversation.

"That's pretty much it, what about you?" you pressed your lips together, seeing him look up, trying to remember where you stopped.

"Right, okay. I just had a meeting with Ten to practice for our showcase, which is basically our last assignment but it's not due for another few weeks."

Your eyes widened, nodding at him, "That's pretty cool, do you guys get to choose what you dance to?"

Nodding, he moved back in his seat as a waiter came to deliver your food, giving her a nod in thanks.

"To put it simply we get to choose the song ourselves and choreograph a routine, design the set blah blah blah the whole production has to be designed by us basically, on top of the write up and the oral presentation," he told you after the waiter had left.

"That sounds tough," you murmured, reaching for the plate of meat but Sicheng had gotten to it before you could, "It's okay, don't worry. I'll do the work," he told you, the tip of his tongue peeking out from his lips in his concentration as he placed the different items you ordered into the soup.

"I guess it is tough but you know, it's worth it when you get on stage and feel everything come together and just....you know, dance," he shrugged, glaring at the meat as if it would make it cook quicker.

"So—" you were startled when you saw one of the staff of the place, seeming to be one of the managers, approach Sicheng with a loud squeal, draping her hand over his shoulder as he beamed at her, greeting her before she'd started speaking to him in mandarin.

"Si si! It's been so long since I've seen you! How are you?"

He nodded politely, "I've been good, just busy with school. You guys look like business has been pretty good here?”

She nodded at him with a proud smile.

"Of course! you were right, word of mouth does wonders," she told him, nudging him and looking at you with a smirk. "Are you not gonna introduce us to each other?"

Sicheng smiled shyly getting your attention in english, introducing you to her, seeing her smile after you greeted her.

"Are you sure she's just your friend?"

Sicheng scoffed, "Don't talk nonsense," he laughed, making her let out a sound of disbelief.  

You'd managed to pick up on what they were saying, understanding this part since you heard Xiaojun say it pretty often.

"Whatever you say, Si si. Okay, okay. I won't interrupt you two any longer," she drawled, smirking.

Sicheng shooed her away promptly, and you swore his cheeks started tinting pink as he turned back to you and apologized.

"Well she seems nice," you smiled, starting to eat after Sicheng had deemed the meat to be cooked enough.

“How is it?” he asked, eyes widening and an eager smile on his face as he gripped his chopsticks in anticipation.

Upon tasting the meat, your eyebrows lifted, Sicheng mirroring your wide-eyed expression as his smile grew bigger.

“Wow, it’s really good,” you hummed.

Sicheng clasped his hands together triumphantly, nodding his head at you with an overconfident smirk, “Of course it’s good! Since I was the one that recommended this place,” he held his arms up in a shrug.

You rolled your eyes, giggling at his demeanour as he put more food into the pot.

"Did you understand what she was saying?" he asked you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, seeing him gesture with his thumb over his shoulder and you realized he was referring to the staff. You raised a hand, tilting it in a 'somewhat' gesture.

"Roughly, I used to learn mandarin when i was younger but it's been pretty long since then and I lost most of my knowledge, I only understand bits and pieces that i've heard from Xiaojun before," you laughed, the way he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye making you feel a certain type of way.

"So you don't understand what I'm saying now?" he asked you in mandarin, making you narrow your eyes at him.

"I feel like you're asking me if I understand what you're saying...." you guessed, eyebrow raising in the hope that you were correct. Your heart practically jumping at the way his lips curved into a smile, nodding.

He'd set his chopsticks down, holding his head up with his hand, elbow resting on the table as he looked at you curiously.

"What if i said you were a rice bucket (饭桶)?" you didn't catch what he said, the way he pronounced words being rather rushed, tending to mesh and mumble his words together, unlike Xiaojun who tended to enunciate his words strongly.

You frowned at him, chewing your food as you thought, piecing together the words you'd managed to catch, "I eat rice?" you asked.

You weren't expecting the burst of laughter Sicheng had erupted in, his deep laugh sounding throughout the booth you were in, making your eyes widen and look over to see if anyone was looking, thankfully seeing none.

"What's so funny about that?" you asked, genuinely concerned, meanwhile Sicheng seemed to find it the funniest thing ever that you didn't understand him, shaking his head at you.

"Nothing, you're correct," he said, calming down and sipping his drink, his cheeks red from how hard he'd laughed, scrunching his eyes shut in a failed attempt to stop laughing.

You'd let a silence fall between you two as you ate, Sicheng was almost done with his food, forgetting what Ten had told him about his bad habit of eating quickly so no one could take his food.

Glancing at the pot of soup, he'd picked up pieces of meat with his chopsticks, placing it into your bowl, something that he'd never done before other than for his parents, his behaviour shocking even himself.

Nodding gratefully but hoping you could hide how flustered you were, you broke the silence, asking, "anyway, are other people allowed to go for the showcase?" you asked, seeing his eyebrows raise.

"Uh-huh.”

You felt your anxiousness increase, having expected him to ask if you'd wanted to go, now making you wonder if it'd be weird if you asked if you could go watch.

"Can I uh...watch?" you asked, diverting your gaze to your food immediately after you asked, missing the way he scrunched his nose up with a smile, pressing his lips together to contain it before replying to you.

"No," he joked, making your head shoot up.

Sicheng giggling at your reaction, "I'm kidding, of course you can. I'll let you know the details closer to the date." he told you.

"You're not from my faculty, right? I was wondering cause you're in our building so much you could actually pass off as a student there," you laughed, seeing him give you a sheepish look.

"Well, I mean, i'm from the dance department but I've spent a lot of time in your faculty building recently ‘cause one of my juniors Renjun asked me for help for one of his routines and it was a good meeting space for us, since it had that area with the mirrors and all," he gestured with his hand as he spoke, picking his chopsticks back up and shoveling the noodles into his mouth.

You made a 'o' shape with your mouth in understanding.

"Which year are you in?" you asked him.

"I'm in my last year, actually. the showcase is kind of part of our graduating project," your eyes widened, realizing this made him your senior.

"Oh," you murmured. Seeing your phone light up in your lap with a text from Xiaojun.

xiaojun 7:40pm - hows ur date going -

You saw Sicheng move as if getting ready to stand, "Where are you going?"

"Bathroom, be back soon," he murmured. You simply nodded, too preoccupied with replying Xiaojun to pay attention to anything else.

7:40pm - pretty good, kinda weird. he told me in chinese that i ate rice for some reason -

xiaojun 7:41pm - r u sure he didnt just call u a fan tong -

You frowned. 

7:41pm - he did....but isn't that what it means???-

xiaojun 7:42pm - no omg can u just... google what it means -

You did as he had instructed, understanding why Sicheng was laughing so much when you'd seen what it meant, and just as you'd found out, he'd come back to the table, hands resting in the front pocket of his hoodie.

"Ready to go?" you nodded.

"Also, you're a rice bucket!" you told him, seeing him laugh, realizing you'd found out what it meant. But you were momentarily distracted when he'd walked right past the cashier.

"Hey hey, wait aren't we gonna pay?" you grabbed his arm, seeing him shake his head and continue walking, dragging you out with him.

"I paid already," he nodded goodbye at the cashier, leaving you to fumble for words as he waved the receipt at you as proof.

"What the heck, when?"

Sicheng shrugged, "when you were busy finding out what a rice bucket meant."

"Well, then how much do I owe you?" you asked, trying to get the receipt from him, seeing him shove his hands back into his front pocket.

Sicheng pointed at a nearby convenience store, "wanna get ice cream?"

"Sicheng," you frowned, reaching over in an attempt to pull his hands out of his pocket to get the receipt, seeing him pull out the receipt quickly, tearing it into pieces and throwing it into the next trashcan you walked past.

"What did you do that for?!" you whined, letting him lead you across the street to the same line as the convenience store he was pointing at earlier.

He turned to you with a blank expression.

"Look, I said you could repay me by coming to eat with me, not paying for my meal," he gave you a calm shrug, "plus, i chose the place, wouldn't be nice to make you pay ‘cause its so expensive."

"And it's fair for you to pay?" he gave you a tired look.

"This isn't about being fair, Y/N. It's about me paying because i wanted to, alright?" you scrunched up your nose in distaste, but chose to accept your fate anyway since he was so insistent about it.

"I take it back, you're not a rice bucket," you huffed.

He'd led you into the convenience store, grinning at the wide variety of ice cream, Sicheng choosing his quickly, glancing at the aisle of candy and sweets.

"Do you want any of that?" you asked, watching him drag his gaze away from the colourful array of snacks to look at you with an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Are you offering to get it for me?" you shrugged, pulling the ice cream bar you wanted out of the cooler and shutting it tightly.

"I want to," you said, emphasizing your tone to make it similar to his when he'd explained the whole paying situation to you.

Sicheng grinned, moving to the aisle and picking out a packet of cookies, handing it to you together with his ice cream with a childlike smile on his face.

After paying, you'd walked out of the convenience store, Sicheng ripping open the packet of his ice cream quickly, taking a bite out of it and waving his arms happily.

Dear God, please help me not make it too obvious that I think Sicheng’s absolutely adorable.

"Is it far from here to your house?" Sicheng asked, and only then did you look at your surroundings, realizing you may be closer to your house than he thinks.

"There's actually a way to walk from here to my house," you said, seeing him nod.

"Alright, let's go."

"Huh?" your eyes widened, biting your ice-cream in your shock and shivering as a result.

"I'll walk you home." He said, gesturing for you to lead the way and so you did, wondering what about you was warranting such niceness from him.

You let him follow you anyway, shoving your hands into your pockets as you walked so you wouldn’t awkwardly brush hands with his.

Figuring you might as well take advantage of the time you had, you let your curiosity fuel your conversation.

"So, what are your plans after you graduate?"

Sicheng grimaced, not expecting you to have asked him that. At the thought of university, Sicheng couldn’t help but think of his dad, the overload of emotions and information that he desperately wanted to tell you making him eventually shrug at the question, not wanting to overwhelm you with the sheer weight of his emotions.

"I actually wanna go to this acting academy, but of course that's all dependent on how well I do,” he huffed.

You pursed your lips at the implication of his words, "Is it hard to get in?"

He nodded vigorously.

"They only accept a handful of students each year...but it'd be a dream if I actually got in," his voice dropped to a murmur, finishing his ice cream and tossing the packaging into a trash bin you walked past.

"Who knows, maybe you will," you shrugged confidently, not knowing just how much comfort the statement gave him.

Sicheng looked at you blankly, a certain warmth spreading in his chest. You turned to look at him, watching as a small smile gracing his features.

"Maybe I will," he murmured.

“Have you spoken to your parents about it? I know it took Xiaojun ages to convince his parents to let him do his course,” you mentioned, noticing the way Sicheng seemed to have tensed at that.

Sicheng pressed his lips together firmly before letting them part slightly, looking as though he wanted to say something.

Eventually, he nodded, “they know I want to pursue acting and dance.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly, craning your neck slightly to get a better look at his expression, “you can tell me if you don’t want to talk about it, but.. something tells me they’re not happy with it.”

Sicheng let out a deep breath through his nose, nodding at you.

“Yeah, they’re not. They never really…were keen on me pursuing arts. I mean like my mom sort of gave up trying to change my mind but my dad is um…” he paused, a huff of bitter laughter leaving his lips, “how do I say this in a nice way..”

Sicheng shook his head, “He’s just very… traditional.”

Sicheng expected to hear what he usually heard at this point, that his parents only mean well and that they’re just worried for him, but your response was something he hadn’t seen coming.

“So how does that make you feel?” You asked. And sure, it was a simple question but for some reason, it was making Sicheng feel as though he was being wrapped in a blanket and soothed like a child.

Sicheng couldn’t help but huff as he shook his head, “I mean, at the end of the day they’re my parents and I know that, but it still makes me feel.. hurt, I guess. That they don’t want to support me to do what makes me happy and what I’m actually passionate about, you know?”

You nodded, “I get where you’re coming from, and I know I’m not in any position to help you make any changes but…I hope you don’t let that stop you.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

You shrugged, unsure where your wisdom had stemmed from, but you figured it was from all those sleepovers with Xiaojun where you two could rant for hours.

“It’s easy to let yourself sacrifice things for people you care about, but I hope you never sacrifice your happiness.”

Sicheng looked away, trying to suppress the smile from his face as he nodded, glancing at you quickly before looking away, knowing it would do him no help in trying to conceal his smile.

You'd talked more about whatever you could think of, growing to enjoy Sicheng's company the more you spoke with him, not noticing how fast time passed until you were rounding the corner to the street you lived.

"I had a nice time with you tonight," you said, Sicheng able to sense that you were slowing down, having reached your driveway.

"Me too," he smiled, "thank you, for....your time." Sicheng internally cursed, thankful Ten wasn’t here to hear whatever bullshit he just said.

Your lower lip jut out slightly in a pout.

“Well, I mean, it doesn't have to be the last time we go out....you know, we can still hang," you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, seeing him nod, diverting his gaze elsewhere and fidgeting with his cap.

"Absolutely, you know, I'm basically free other than practices with Ten, just uh....let me know if you're ever like....bored and you wanna hang out or something," he mumbled, looking up from the floor to tilt his head at you with a smile, your heart nearly exploding with how cute the gesture was to you.

"Goodnight." You waved, seeing him nod at you, waving as you entered your house.

===

You were currently sitting in the library trying to do some readings for class.

Sicheng had just finished his practice for the day and was going to find you in the library, wearing a yellow hoodie and jeans, his hair (courtesy of Ten) was curlier today, since they'd gotten carried away with thinking of possible ways to style themselves for the performance.  But you thought it wasn't such a bad thing. Because after it was messed up from the movements of the dance you had to say he was hard to look away from.

Spotting you at your desk in the library, he'd felt almost endeared looking at how concentrated you were, a part of him feeling overwhelmed with the urge to pinch your cheeks with how serious you looked. This left Sicheng with no other option than to resort to his only method of coping with it: teasing you.

"What are you doing?" he asked you in mandarin once he had reached your table, flopping onto the seat next to you, making you furrow your eyebrows at your computer screen.

"Readings for class," you murmured, using your pen to follow where you were.

“Okay, let me see your pretty face," he teased, making you huff, not understanding what he was saying.

"What does 'pretty face' mean?" you asked him distractedly, scribbling something on your notes.

"Your face," he said smoothly, so smooth you didn't even realize it wasn't what the word meant.

"That's how you say it in chinese?" he nodded.

"Learn something new everyday," you commented, turning back to face Sicheng only to see he'd already whipped out his phone and pressed on his game app, leaning his head on his arm that was resting on the back of the chair, looking at you with a lazy smile as it loaded.

"Aren't you tired from practice? and why is your hair curly?"

He nodded, pouting at you, "I'm tired, but never too tired to win," he said with an exaggerated amount of confidence, making you scoff.

“But do you like it?" he asked, taking a lock of his hair between his fingers, pulling on it before messing it up a little, you had to remind yourself not to stare.

"It's.....nice," you shrugged, turning back to your computer as Sicheng simply smiled, logging into his game.

By the time you were done with one reading, Sicheng had finished his game as well, the both of you getting ready to leave when you saw a girl that looked younger than you approach your table. You were sure you haven’t seen her before, looking at her in very prominent confusion before you realized she was looking for Sicheng.

The first thing that stood out to you was that she'd called him her older brother (哥哥), a term you knew held certain meaning to some guys as you'd learnt from Xiaojun, but not like you were in any position to be jealous or anything.

"I was hoping I'd run into you, do you know where I can find this teacher?" you heard her say, your gaze hardening from the way Sicheng smiled at her, nodding and giving her directions, a part of you wishing he would act colder towards her, but knowing it wasn't in Sicheng's nature to behave that way towards juniors.

"Thank you so much!" she said, beaming at him shyly before she left.

"Who's that, huh?" you asked, smirking at Sicheng.

"Just a junior," he shrugged, the both of you walking into the lift, squeezed at the back behind a crowd of students.

You pretended to be deep in thought, "Didn't seem like it though, did it, older brother?" you mocked, repeating the words of his junior.

Sicheng almost immediately replied, "Oh my god, shut up that was so gross, don't ever say that again," he shivered, trying to hide the fact that he was absolutely endeared to you and secretly wished you would say it again, but knowing he wouldn't be able to contain his happiness if you did.

You gasped, slightly offended at his outburst as you walked out of the lift.

"What?! What's so different about me saying it and her saying it!" you scoffed, seeing him shake his head, giving you a patronizing smile.

"It's really gross when you say it cause you're my friend!" he told you, making you scoff, at a loss for words.

Was this....him friendzoning you?

"Let's just go home." you shook your head, pushing the conversation behind you.

===

"Do you think this means he doesn't like me?" you sighed, seeing your friend shrug, you and Sicheng had developed a routine of seeing each other after classes or practice, even if it meant just hanging out and watching movies, or just him coming over to your house but ending up falling asleep on your couch because he was so tired from practice, but what bothered you wasn't the routine, but incidents like those in the library that made you confused over how he saw you.

Sure, he did nice gestures for you, but anyone could be nice to you with unromantic intentions. Xiaojun was nice to you, but he had no intention of dating you, so how could you be sure about the fact that he was interested in you?

"You can't be sure....i mean, from what I'm seeing he does a lot of nice things for you..but he doesn't necessarily...outrightly tell you things that can make you sure that he likes you?"

You sighed, waiting for your food to be ready. You'd planned on surprising Sicheng and bringing some food to him since you told him you'd meet him in his practice room.

"Don't overthink it," your friend gave you a sympathetic look, "Maybe he's just not that great at expressing how he feels?" she shrugged, making you shrug with her, collecting your food.

"You're going to see him now, aren't you?" you nodded, giving her a grim look. "All the best," she laughed, waving you goodbye as you left in the direction of the practice room.

What you didn't expect to find was to see Sicheng lying on the floor of the dance studio, sprawled on his back, wearing the same checkered sweatpants and a plain white shirt. He looked as though he was sleeping, not making a single move even when you entered the room loudly.

"Sicheng?" you called, not seeing him move, finding his demeanour similar to when you'd seen him the previous week, sleeping off his stress when he was supposed to be fine-tuning the report with Ten.

You set your bag down next to his, bringing the packets of food as you made your way next to him, not wanting to disrupt his sleep but at the same time knowing he had to eat.

You decided to text Ten first, in the hope that it would give you some insight as to how Sicheng was feeling.

6:23pm - hey, how was Sicheng during practice today? -

ten 6:23pm -???? we didn't meet today we said today would be a rest day-6:23pm - why?? did smth happen? is he ok? -

Frowning, you checked the date, it was only a matter of days before Sicheng and Ten's showcase, and you could tell that Sicheng was nervous, especially judging from his behaviour today.

"Hey, Sicheng, wake up," you murmured seeing him frown, his eyes opening slowly to see you sitting next to him, blinking at you before letting out a deep sigh.

Sicheng felt as though he was in some sort of hazy dream, the sight of you and the smell of food making his head spin, not being able to quite remember how he ended up asleep on the floor.

"What were you doing here the whole day?" you worried, seeing him push himself off the floor to sit with his knees up, resting his folded arms on his knees.

"Practicing....I guess," he shrugged, his gaze travelling to the bag containing food that sat next to you.

Realizing what he was staring at, you started emptying out the bag, laying the food in front of the both of you.

"Here, eat," he nodded at you wordlessly, starting to open the packets to eat.

You felt a little concerned at his lack of a response, not knowing if your presence here was welcomed or not, but Sicheng was thankful, even if it was hard for you to see that.

"Ten told me you guys were supposed to have a rest day today," he looked at you and nodded, confirming it.

"And?" you asked. "What part about 'rest' in 'rest day' do you not understand?" your eyebrows knit together in a frown, unsure what Sicheng's take on this was.

"I had to practice, Y/N." he swallowed his food with a wince, and looking down you realized he was almost done with his food. "I needed to just shut myself in here and concentrate. I know myself best and I know that I wasn't putting my all into this the past few practices," he told you, making your frown deepen.

"What makes you think that?" you murmured, looking down at your food, poking at it for lack of appetite, your worry for him getting the better of you.

Sicheng looked at you with a nervous expression, looking as if he was withholding something. What was he supposed to answer to that? oh, because I couldn't stop thinking about you? or oh, because I keep wanting to get it over with so I can meet you after? or oh, because I'm so stressed about how I can't bring myself to tell you how much I like you?

His expression was blank, shrugging as he mumbled, "just a feeling."

"Look, I know, you're stressed, but you have to trust me when I say that I've seen your rehearsals and you and Ten are doing so well!" you murmured, not missing the way he sighed as he reached for the plastic bag, dumping his empty packaging into the bag and leaning back to rest his weight on his hands.

"That's different, Y/N. You're you, and the teachers are the teachers. Not to mention my parents."

You raised your eyebrows in confusion, prompting him to elaborate.

“You're a lot nicer to me than they are," he murmured.

You felt something in you hurt when you heard how defeated he sounded, giving him a reassuring smile, "Hey, when did that ever stop you?" you asked, seeing him look at you, a tiny glimmer of hope in his eyes, shaking his head.

"Stop running away from your problems, man, face them head on! Sleep's not gonna perfect your dance for you," you held your fists up in a gesture to cheer him on, seeing him shake his head with a smile, rolling his eyes as he got up from the floor, nodding.

"Can you help me?" he asked, telling you what he wanted you to look out for, and to help him find ways to improve his expression from an audience's perspective.

You nodded, finishing your food and setting it aside, jogging over to a space in front of the mirrors and sitting down in front of it, opening your packet drink as he passed you his phone, with the song on the screen already.

"Ready?" You asked with a smile, seeing him cast you a unsure glance, leaning his head back with a groan.

You'd pressed play to the song, seeing him start his routine, only when he'd gotten to the part where he had to do a one-handed cartwheel had he stopped after that, wanting to restart.

You paused the music, "What's wrong?"

He shook his head, looking at you with an expression you couldn't place the feeling of.

"Just calm down, relax. You know this routine by heart, just don't think about anything else.." you

saw him nod at you, getting back into his starting position.

"Ready?" he nodded again, and when you played the music this time, you could see how much more in his element he was, letting his movements flow, performing tricks with ease, not to mention the intensity with which he performed, almost like an upgrade from the past rehearsals you've seen.

Once the song ended, he looked at you with a shy smile, smiling widely even as he caught his breath, and you couldn't help yourself from cheering and clapping.

"That was great! Best I've seen from you by far," he gave you a look.

"Why were you so nervous about it anyway? You danced it so well!" you said, seeing him shake his head at you.

"You know contemporary dance isn't my specialty, right?" Your eyebrows raised, making him laugh his deep bubbly laugh, covering his head with his hands. The way he looked at you now was the mischievous kind of look he gave you whenever he knew something you didn’t.

"It isn't? Then what is your specialization?" you wondered, sipping on your drink as he did a small turn.

"Chinese traditional dance," you gasped, almost being able to imagine Sicheng dancing that style of dance, and how mesmerising he would look while doing so.

"Oh my god...can you show me?"

Sicheng laughed, "huh?" his tone was embarrassed, as if he was suddenly too shy to dance for you.

You nodded vigorously, "please, I really wanna see," you clasped your hands together, rubbing them together in a pleading gesture.

He nodded. 

"Anything for you," he told you in mandarin, you being to excited to fully process what he was saying.

"Can you reach in my bag and take out the fan?" he pointed to his bag, and you'd rolled over, reaching his bag and taking out a fan that was considerably bigger than you'd expected, handing it to him.

"This is really short, but just something I choreographed a while ago," he murmured, and you swore you saw a tint of pink shading his cheeks as he scrolled his phone for the song, pressing play and proceeding to dance the most enchanting thing you'd ever seen him dance.

You knew he was talented when you saw how he danced with Ten, but seeing him dancing something that he had so much skill in, so much technique and control over, it was like you'd fallen for him even more while watching him.

"Wow..." was all you could muster when he was done, turning back to you and hiding his face with the opened fan as he laughed, the way his tone would rise as he laughed serving to endear you even more to him if that was possible.

"What?" he asked you, making you shake your head, a giddy awestruck look on your face.

"I don't know how to describe it, but all Iknow is that I loved it," you told him, seeing him raise his hands dramatically, bowing dramatically in all directions.

"Thank you everybody!" he said in mandarin, sounding similar to those actors you would see at award shows.

You scoffed playfully, feigning hurt, stomping up to him, with your hands on your hips.

"Why are you thanking everyone! I'm the one who was encouraging you," you laughed, seeing his eyes widen.

Grinning at you, he blew a flying kiss to you with his fan.

"Oh, right, thank you, kiss kiss (么么哒)," he said, making you laugh.

"I don't know what that means but...i'll take it," you murmured, seeing him close the fan, looking at you with a tired smile. The kind of smile you would see in movies when the protagonist realizes he's in love, but in this case, Sicheng was the protagonist, and he was currently kicking himself on the inside because what are you doing!!! now is the perfect time to tell her you like her!!

But all Sicheng could do was smile, his words failing him at the worst of times, leaving an awful big load of tension between you two as you secretly hoped this movie-protagonist-in-love look would mean you would receive a slow-mo worthy confession now, only to get a shock when Sicheng had broken the silence.

"The tickets are with Xiaojun," he blurted, your potential movie-moment slipping away just as fast as Sicheng snapped his fan open, walking over to your bags and wrapping the plastic bag of your trash as a way for him to hide how frustrated he was with himself, scrunching his eyes up with an annoyed tilt of his head.

You were busy trying to hide your disappointment as well, using the time he was preoccupied with clearing the empty food packets to take deep breaths, calming your racing heart every time it remembered how close you came to revealing your feelings for him.

"Ready to go home?" he murmured, standing up and turning to face you, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Recovering from your shock you nodded, "Yep, yeah. Let's go."

===

"Okay, let's do it again, just pretend I'm Y/N," Xiaojun said, not bothering to adjust his sitting posture, making it very hard for Sicheng to imagine the skinny boy in front of him chewing loudly on his lunch to be you.

Sicheng shot Renjun a helpless look, "save me, please."

Renjun shaking his head at the same time as Ten chimed in, "Me, me! I'd do it a lot better than Xiaojun," he claimed confidently, crossing his legs and straightening his posture, giving Sicheng a sensual look.

Sicheng shoved Ten, groaning, "None of you are actually helping, you know."

Renjun shook his head in disapproval at Xiaojun and Ten, pulling Ten out of his seat so he could sit in front of Sicheng, looking at the older boy with a neutral expression.

"Okay, pretend I'm Y/N, and just try to tell me something you've wanted to tell me for a while now," Renjun said simply, as if it should be second-nature for Sicheng to do.

"For someone who wants to go to an acting school, you really suck at this roleplay thing," Ten commented, arms folded over his chest as he watched Sicheng and Renjun.

"It's not as easy as you think, okay?" Sicheng groaned, “I regret asking you guys for help.”

Sicheng knew he’d only ended up in this situation after he told them what had happened in the dance studio the other day, the boys immediately initiating a plan to help their friend gain the courage to express his feelings to her.

“Focus!” Renjun clapped his hands in front of Sicheng, who had managed to get his expression to be neutral, his leg starting to bounce anxiously as he thought of what to say.

“Y/N,” he started, “well...you know...we’ve been friends for a...substantial amount of time now...”

“Cut!” Renjun yelled, making Sicheng frown, wondering what he said to make Renjun stop him so fast.

“Firstly, you’re not gonna confess to her in mandarin, are you? And second of all, that was the most unromantic starting sentence I've ever heard.” Sicheng sighed, switching to english.

“Okay, rewind.Y/N, I....” Sicheng felt himself start to second guess the sentences he had planned, suddenly feeling like for every way he could think of to confess to you, there would be a nicer way to do it that he would think of immediately after, making him stop himself, sighing again.

“You know maybe his saving grace will be that she still likes him even though he’s not very good with his words,” Xiaojun shrugged, making Sicheng shoot him a look.

“In all honesty, I feel like i’m okay expressing my feelings to her, just that I didn't know how she’d react, like, what if she wasn’t looking for a relationship-”  Xiaojun practically burst out laughing at that, shaking his head at Sicheng as the three of them looked at him in curiosity (and a little bit of concern).

“Believe me, you’re way off if you think that,” he laughed.

Sicheng gave him a look, “What do you mean?”

Xiaojun raised his hands in defence, “I mean, i’m not gonna out her, but all I’m gonna say is that the last thing you should be afraid of is that she isn’t looking for a relationship.”

Sicheng hummed thoughtfully at what Xiaojun was implying.

This thought lingered with Sicheng until the day of the showcase, when Sicheng had been greeted with the news that his teacher had invited his family to watch the showcase, and as if that wasn’t horrifying enough, they actually agreed.

“Dude,” Ten called at the jittery boy who was currently squatting behind the stage curtains, peeking out to search for his parents in the crowd, and silently hoping to God that he wouldn’t spot them.

When Sicheng hadn’t answered, Ten tried again, “Dude!” he called, louder this time.

Ten sighed when Sicheng’s head whipped around quickly, his expression panic-stricken.

Walking over to where Sicheng was squatting, he cast the boy a sympathetic look.

“I heard about the um...parents thing,” he told Sicheng, the mere reminder of it making Sicheng let out a deep breath he wasn’t aware that he was holding.

Sicheng felt suffocated, the murmuring of the crowd only seeming to grow in volume.

“I’m gonna go get some air,” Sicheng sighed, Ten letting him walk out, hoping the air would do his dance partner some good as well.

You had just reached the performance venue with Xiaojun, you were already seated with Xiaojun when you’d started to feel a little thirsty, wanting to step outside to find something you could drink. Already having bought your drink, you were about to make your way back, opening your phone because you’d wanted to send an encouraging message to Sicheng, almost groaning when you saw a text come in from Xiaojun.

Xiaojun 5:37pm - can you get me a water too pls ?? renjun wants a coke -

Sighing, you made your way back to the vending machine, about to take your wallet out again when you’d spotted someone seated at one of the benches near you, head buried in their hands.

Frowning, you wondered if they were alright, pushing the coins absentmindedly into the vending machine as you tried to lean back as much as you could to get a better view of the boy.

The boy had looked up, making eye contact with you and looking away quickly, his hands going up to wipe at his eyes, and you realized only then that that was Sicheng.

Frowning, you carried the drinks in your hand as you walked over to where he was sitting, taking as seat next to him on the bench, looking at him in concern.

“Hey, are you okay?” you frowned.

Sicheng had avoided your gaze, fidgeting with his hands as he shrugged. “My parents are here,” he finally sighed, making your eyes widen, knowing the implications behind that.

“It’s my first time actually performing in front of them...like, ever.”

You weren’t sure what came over you when you reached a hand out to grasp his gently, surprised when he’d fidgeted with your hand instead, letting you grasp his hand and you squeezed his gently, hearing a shaky sigh leave him.

“I want to make them proud. I really do. But I just feel like I’m not ready yet, I don't know why my teacher invited them without telling me I wasn’t prepared for this at all and I’m so-” he stopped abruptly, a sigh leaving his lips as he looked up, blinking rapidly to stop his tears from spilling out.

“So worried that they won’t have a reason to be proud of me after watching me.” he mumbled, his words muffled by his hand that reached up to dab at the tear that had rolled down his cheek.

“Hey,” you started, seeing him look towards you, inhaling deeply as he tried to regulate his breathing, “I know I won’t understand exactly how you feel, but I can tell you that if you really want to make them proud, your job is to go out there and show them just why you love performing so much. You’ve worked so hard up ‘til this point, there’s nothing else left for you to do other than to just show them the result of this hard work,” you told him, hoping your words made sense as you tried to console him.

“Xiaojun and Renjun are already inside. We know what you’re capable of, and we’ll be supporting you,” you flushed, suddenly feeling shy to be telling him this but going out on a limb and telling him anyway in your desperation to make him feel less anxious.

“I’ll be rooting for you,” you mumbled, looking away in your embarrassment, not noticing the way Sicheng’s lips had trembled, his eyes not welling up in tears but his throat feeling as though it was closing up on itself, his chest feeling like it was almost burning with warmth, wishing you hadn’t stood up so quickly.

“You should probably be going in, the showcase is gonna start soon,” you gestured to the entrance, picking up the drinks in your hands and turning to bid Sicheng goodbye, the boy contemplating whether or not to hug you, realizing his contemplating had made him miss his chance when he saw you walking away from him.

Later on, you felt yourself growing nervous as you saw Sicheng and Ten step onto the stage, the announcer introducing them and giving a small background about the piece they would be performing. Sicheng felt it too, shutting his eyes after he got into position and breathing slowly. Opening his eyes again, he’d made eye contact with Ten, who gave him a reassuring smile.

And you were glad to say he had danced more beautifully than you had ever seen before.

After the performance, he and Ten had gone outside the venue after it was over to take pictures with friends who had shown up, seeing you and Xiaojun waiting there, you nervously clutching a bouquet of flowers in your hand that Xiaojun basically forced you to buy.

Tugging at the sleeve of your sweater, you waited impatiently for Sicheng to finish taking pictures with his teachers and other friends—Renjun would joke and say your flowers would be dead by the time they were done— and Xiaojun had eventually gotten sick of waiting and dragged you by the arm to where Sicheng and Ten were, with Renjun following close behind.

“Hey guys,” Ten drawled when he saw you, Xiaojun and Renjun approaching, looking at Sicheng with a pointed look, nudging his head in your direction, to which Sicheng furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“What?” he said in mandarin, eyes widening when he saw you holding out the bouquet of flowers for him, trying to distract yourself from the fact that the leather jacket he’d put over his performance outfit was distracting you greatly, having already given one bouquet to Ten while he was distracted.

“You guys wanna take a picture together?” you heard Renjun yell, and Xiaojun took that as his queue and pushed you towards Sicheng. You winced as you lost your balance with a yelp, only steadying yourself when Sicheng grabbed your arm, taking the flowers from you with a grateful nod.

“Stop being awkward,” Renjun mouthed with a glare, and you’d fixed your hair, suddenly feeling shy about your proximity to Sicheng, not knowing how to arrange your hands, but thankfully for the both of you, you had Ten on your side.

Sicheng had started simple, by placing his hand over your shoulder, his other hand holding the bouquet, tilting his head towards yours for the picture.

Meanwhile Renjun was hard at work bending down to find better angles to capture you both in.

“Okay..okayy,” you laughed, hoping you would hear that Renjun was done taking photos, but instead hearing Ten’s commentary as he watched Renjun taking photos of you.

“Okay, change pose,” he said, making you and Sicheng flustered, not knowing what other pose you could possibly do, Sicheng with his arm around your shoulder, looking at you with a tilt of the head as if to ask you what pose to do next, making you shrug.

“Should we just end it now?” he leaned closer to whisper, making you nod with a small wince.

Sicheng waved his hand dismissively, letting go of your shoulder and telling them that photo taking was over, Renjun putting his phone down with a huff and you swore he was muttering something about you guys being unappreciative.

They were all preoccupied with airdrop-ing the photos to each other, giving you a chance to properly congratulate Sicheng for successfully getting through his showcase, pulling him down for a hug to congratulate him, your heart jumping for joy at the comfort you felt when he hugged you back.

It felt like you hugged him for the longest time, and Sicheng knew this too, his free hand going up to cradle your head before pulling away, embarrassed that you’d hugged him in front of Ten, Renjun and Xiaojun.

You glanced at Sicheng, searching his expression and noticing how his eyes looked a little teary and bloodshot.

“Thanks for coming,” he murmured, his voice sounding slightly shaky which made him clear his throat quickly, making Renjun scoff.

“Did we have a choice? Ten would’ve killed us if we didn’t show up,” Renjun rolled his eyes.

“Did you tell her about the party yet?” you heard Ten ask, seeing you frown in confusion.

“What party?” you asked him.

His eyes widened in realisation, “Oh, right.  I'm having a christmas party kind of thing, and i was wondering if you wanna come?”

You thought about it, Christmas wasn’t until next week, so you were pretty sure you would have enough time to prepare something to wear for the party.

“When is it?”

“Uh..we wanted it to kind of happen early because Ten’s flying home for Christmas, and I’m flying to China to go see my grandparents for christmas as well, so we were thinking of having it this Saturday?” he asked, and you’d glanced at your phone for confirmation.

This meant you had 3 days to prepare gifts for them and figure out what you were gonna wear.

“Oh.....well, alright then, that’d be nice,” you nodded, slowly recovering from your shock to give him a smile.

“Should I be anticipating your gift?” he asked, making you shake your head firmly.

“God, please don’t. I suck at giving gifts,” you laughed, “should i be anticipating yours?” you asked, just for the fun of it, both of you not expecting the way Sicheng had simply nodded.

“Yes, I'd like you to.”

===

That very statement was what left Sicheng a whining mess up until the day of the party, trying to figure out what the hell had compelled him to say that when he didn’t even have a proper gift in mind yet, almost contemplating asking his mom for advice when he heard her loudly packing in her bedroom.

“Ma,” he’d burst her bedroom door open, realizing with a disappointed sigh that it was his dad and not his mom.

“Your mom’s downstairs,” he told Sicheng, who had then promptly ran down the stairs of his house, finding his mother in the living room wrapping apples for the people she’d planned on giving them to on Christmas.

That’s when it hit him, he knew what he was going to give you for Christmas.

You on the other hand, weren’t having such luck in the gift department. You wanted to get Sicheng something meaningful and nice, but for lack of better ideas you decided on buying Sicheng a new set of headphones. You were familiar with Sicheng’s complaints about his parents nagging him for staying up late whenever he was gaming his parents since he didn’t use headphones, being too lazy to buy them, so you figured you’d do both him and his parents a favour with this gift.

Whereas for Ten, Xiaojun and Renjun (the only ones you actually knew who were going for this party) you’d already settled their gifts. So to any other person, you would have seemed to have everything under control, except, you had no idea what to wear.

Ten had tried helping you, suggesting you should wear something comfortable since it was cold out, but you weren’t necessarily sure how to impress Sicheng with your comfortable clothes, eventually letting Ten pick out for you a simple outfit, even forcing you to wear a scarf over it because he claimed Sicheng would think you looked cute.

So you trusted him (whether this was a good choice or a bad choice is up to you, really), and had brought your gifts, specially and individually wrapped, along with your own little handwritten note to Sicheng, and followed Ten to the party.

Only upon reaching were you truly thankful that he’d made you wear a scarf, it was cold out, and you were thankful that Sicheng’s house had pretty good heating. Not that you didn’t like being in the cold, you were just pretty sure you wouldn’t have liked it as much if you’d gone with your previous outfit choice.

Walking into the party, you’d spotted Xiaojun quickly, walking over to where he was in the kitchen, Ten having left you to greet the other guys Sicheng invited that you weren’t familiar with.

“Hey,” he waved, the sleeve of his oversized sweater engulfing his arm, making him look even smaller than usual.

Your greeting came out muffled as you loosened your scarf, hanging it around your neck loosely instead, “Have you seen Sicheng?” you asked, seeing him shake his head.

Feeling a little more than disappointed, you’d taken a drink from him before looking around the house, realizing that maybe Sicheng was a little more well-off than he’d let on, impressed by the warm lighting accompanying the chandeliers and very comfortable looking sofas, you’d been dragged by Renjun to join their movie session in the living room, only then realizing that Sicheng was there, engrossed in the Narnia movie that was playing on his (big) television set.

“Y/N’s finally here,” Ten’s voice had captured Sicheng’s attention, the boy turning around in his seat to look at you, and only then did you realize how good he looked.

Wearing a thick dark green sweater and jeans that were folded up at the bottom, not to mention his hair was styled up, he turned to you with a wave, patting the seat next to him as an invitation to sit there. In your attempt to get over your shock over his outfit, you took your time in placing the gifts at the Christmas tree, bringing his gift to where he sat, tucking it between your legs and the sofa as you sat down, realizing the space was tighter than you’d expected, making you have to squeeze shoulder to shoulder with Sicheng- almost spilling your drink in the process.

“Are those glasses real?” you whispered, not wanting to interrupt the rest of the guys who were watching the movie, the younger looking one sitting next to Renjun with bright orange hair eyeing you and Sicheng with a knowing look.

Sicheng shook his head.

“Nope, they were a gift from Jaehyun,” he pointed at one of the guys sitting on the floor next to the coffee table, wearing a black sweater and very ripped jeans.

“I’m wearing them because he was so insistent that I didn't like them,” he explained, and you desperately wished he would whisper because the way his hushed tone sounded so near to you wasn’t doing anything in calming you down.

“When did you get here?” he asked, making you shrug, not really wishing to disclose the time you spent in the kitchen hiding from the crowd.

“Not long ago, I was just in the kitchen with Xiaojun,” you told him, the mention of the kitchen directing his attention to the cup in your hand, leaning over to sniff it, his proximity to your face making you lean back.

Leaning back after sniffing your drink, he raised an eyebrow at you, “You drink this stuff?” his voice was surprised to say the least, relief washing over him when you shook his head.

“I don’t even know what it is, I just took it from Xiaojun but it smells like the hospital,” you made a face of disgust, hearing him let out a huff of laughter, grabbing your arm that was holding the drink and bringing it up to his face, downing it in one go before taking the cup from your hands and leaning forward to place it on the coffee table, returning to his original position and giving you a small smile.

“One less thing to worry about,” he shrugged, and you went back to watching the movie, seeing that it was only at the part where Edmund meets the witch.

The more you watched, you felt your head start to loll back, not realizing the movie had ended and the guys were now trying to decide whether to play 2 truths and 1 lie.

Sicheng had purposely shifted around in his seat more to wake you up before you could fall asleep, your head shooting up quickly, catching the attention of a few of them who turned to look at you curiously.

“Y/N, you wanna play 2 truths and 1 lie?” Renjun asked, making you frown.

“I really suck at that game though..”

Sicheng gave you a reassuring look, about to say something when he was interrupted.

“C’mon, in the spirit of christmas!” Xiaojun had chimed in to encourage you, earning nods and cheers of agreement from the rest of them scattered around the room.

Hearing the sound of them putting on a christmas playlist, you’d felt encouraged for some reason, giving a small shrug of agreement. You figured it wouldn’t be that bad.

That was until it was Sicheng’s turn and you found yourself panicked beyond belief, growing more nervous to see what he would say.

“Hmmm...okay, got it, I have someone I'm interested in, I have mistletoe hanging in here, and I’m afraid of heights.”

The boys had immediately chimed in with their various opinions, Ten shooting Xiaojun an impressive look at Sicheng for being so bold with his choice of truths, being the only ones that knew of Sicheng’s...character development. Though they weren’t sure if it was because of the drinks he had prior to that or whether he was simply feeling confident today.

“This one’s easy!” a guy with short brown hair had raised his hand, “The lie is obviously that he’s interested in someone, he hasn’t been interested in anyone for ages,” he’d said confidently, making Sicheng smile, just as another boy had chimed in.

“I feel like he had mistletoe here somewhere at the last party, though,” a younger-looking boy said, earning a, “You wish, Mark.” from another boy with a sharper pitched voice and very pretty tan skin.

“The lie is.....” Sicheng made a cute sound that he’d always done before announcing things, “I have mistletoe in here,” he said, the crowd of boys erupting in shouts and protests at the answer before moving on to the next person, who had seemed to capture their attention for long enough.

“Wanna go upstairs? I wanted to like..give you your present...and stuff,” Sicheng leaned over to ask you softly, making you nod, grabbing his present and following him upstairs, the boys noticing but choosing not to say anything.

Once you’d gotten upstairs, he stopped you for a while so he could go into his room, coming out with a small paper bag and continuing to lead you upstairs, glad you hadn’t taken off your scarf when he’d opened a door to the rooftop, revealing different plants and even a stone walkway leading up to a sheltered wooden planked area where you sat down with him, looking through the transparent glass of the balcony at the buildings of his neighbourhood, finding it cute how he had little lights hanging from the shelter.

You’d sat in silence initially, enjoying the feeling of the cold breeze against your cheeks, shutting your eyes instinctively in your attempt to savour the feeling.

“Thank you, by the way.”

You opened your eyes, eyebrows raising at Sicheng, “Oh, it’s no big deal, I didn’t have anything planned for today so-”

“No, not for coming today. I mean, that too but...I sort of meant for like..comforting me the other day,” Sicheng looked at you, a small shy smile playing at his lips, “I really needed that.”

Your lips parted, wondering what made him suddenly want to thank you for that. Choosing to give him a nod, you shook your head, “I really did mean what I said.”

Sicheng nodded, “I know.” He smiled, letting his gaze travel elsewhere as he stretched his legs out in front of him, swaying them side to side as he tried to contain his smile.

“Can I go first? My gift is pretty underwhelming,” you said, seeing him let out a tiny giggle but nod nonetheless, taking that as your queue to take out your gift from the bag, giving him the wrapped package of the headphones, watching him rip the packaging open casually, his eyes widening when he realized what it was. He’d placed the envelope containing your christmas letter for him gingerly back into the bag.

“Oh my god.... thank you so much,” he said, his eyes practically sparkling with how much he’d liked the present, making you shake your head.

“Use them well, okay?” you murmured, seeing him hesitantly reach over to pick up the bag containing his present for you, only serving to heighten your curiosity for what could’ve been in that bag.

“Okay, oh my god, why am i so shy,” you heard him whisper, making you laugh, “Hold your hands out and close your eyes,” he instructed, making you do as you were told, anticipating your present, shocking you when you’d felt something cold in your hands, opening your eyes to see....an apple?

“Is this another one of your jokes,” you pouted, seeing him shake his head, staring at the apple as if looking for answers.

“My family, uh...we have this like..tradition thing, where we give apples to people for christmas... like....to the people we care about,” he murmured, a shy smile gracing his features, looking up at you to see your reaction, wanting to reach over and pinch your cheeks when he saw your wide eyed expression, gripping the apple tightly in your hands.

Sicheng shivered at how cringeworthy he felt his words were, his hands going up to cup his neck, and for a moment you were distracted by his actions, concern for him taking over your shock.

“Are you cold? Do you want my scarf?” you asked, genuinely concerned for him only having a sweater to protect him from the cold.

Sicheng burst into laughter, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, “Isn’t that usually the other way around?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, only realizing then the context of what you’d said, making you hide your face with the apple in embarrassment, feeling him pull the apple away from your face, tilting his head at you in amusement.

“As I was saying....i would give you a thousand apples if i could, but that was impractical and sounded like a lot of work, but I just want you to know that if I could, I would have. But okay back to the point, the point is that, I care about you...like, a lot,” he paused, pressing his lips together and taking in a deep breath, “and not just as a friend.”

You pressed your lips together in a firm line, biting down on your lower lip trying to keep your composure, shyness taking over you at how close you were to Sicheng, not to mention what he was saying, especially given the context of the situation.

“Was that what you meant? When..you said just now during the game that you were uh... interested in someone?” you plucked up your courage to ask, seeing him bite the inside of his cheek, nodding wordlessly at you.

“Just kinda wanna know if this person’s interested in me too,” he murmured, making your cheeks heat up, wishing he hadn’t taken the apple from your hands so you had something to hold onto.

You nodded, “She is-i mean, yeah. I am,” you blurted, fumbling with your words like an idiot (a very love struck idiot, in fact).

Sicheng nodded, his smile growing wider, and just like that, it was like everything was more obvious to you, the sound of the christmas songs playing echoing up through the open door of the rooftop, to the sound of the guys fooling around downstairs, down to the sound of the cold breeze bristling your faces, and the warm lighting around you both. Sicheng felt it too, and now it was his turn to feel like the protagonist of the movie, now having to find something smooth to say that would make his love interest kiss him and then the story can end happily.

But Sicheng being Sicheng, just blurted out the next thing that came to his head, “Oh, look, how convenient, mistletoe,” he commented, glancing up at the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling of the shelter, dangling over your heads mockingly.

You gasped, “You totally lied just now, that was 2 lies,” you laughed, seeing him shake his head.

“In my defense, I told them ‘in here’, they just happened to interpret that as the living room,” he shrugged, your laughter dying down as he looked at you, fiddling with the apple in his hands.

“Can I..kiss you?”

You smiled, pretending to hesitate, “Let me consider.”

In his offence, he’d reacted quickly in rushed mandarin, “You still need to consider?! Isn’t it just agreeing!”

Nodding at him, he’d leaned forward, removing his glasses and setting it aside with your apple, bringing up a hand to hold it under your chin, tilting your head up as he connected your lips, smiling at how you could feel his hand slide under your scarf, placing at your neck gently, his hand doing a lot better at warming your neck than your scarf did, following his lead in the kiss.

You almost frowned when you felt Sicheng pull away slowly, but he didn’t give you a reason to. Sicheng’s other hand came up to rest gently against your cheek as he pressed soft kisses to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, letting out an amused huff before he pressed a final soft kiss to your forehead, suddenly feeling like you were indoors, warmth enveloping you despite being outside in the cold.

You’d leaned over to rest your head against his shoulder, “Can we stay like this for a while before going back down?” you murmured softly, practically being able to hear him smile.

He continued in mandarin, his voice not making you shiver this time, but instead, comforting you beyond belief.

“Anything you say is fine by me.”

===

You’d gotten a video call from Sicheng on New Years Eve, celebrations had ended and you were already tucked into bed, slightly buzzed from the drinks you had at your house with Xiaojun and Renjun earlier when they’d come over for dinner, claiming you didn't have Sicheng here to drink your drinks for you so you might as well enjoy it.

“Hey,” he murmured, lying on his bed in his checkered pajamas, resting his head on his arm as he gave you a smile.

“Hi,” you said, giving him a lazy smile, making him raise an eyebrow in amusement at your buzzed-looking state.

“I see you’ve had more than a couple drinks with Xiaojun and Renjun just now?” you laughed, nodding, prompting him to continue, “I know it’s a little late, but...I just read your christmas note you gave me,” he told you.

“You’re only reading it now?”

He scoffed, nodding as if you should’ve known that, “Yeah, of course, I was saving it so I could read it on Christmas day itself...but I didn’t have the time and then the only good time I had was now and now...after reading it, it made me wanna call you because...I missed you,” he murmured, changing his position so he was resting his chin on his arm.

You scrunched your nose up out of shyness.

“Since when did you get so bold?” you laughed, seeing him shake his head.

“Anyway,  I just wanted to check in on you. Had a good day today?” you nodded, telling him all the minor details about your day as he nodded, smiling and laughing and commenting every so often.

You’d listened to the details of his day as well.

“We just finished dinner, thought i would call you now before they all gather in the living room to watch movies,” he told you.

Nodding in understanding, you yawned, blinking tiredly, making him huff. “You should go to sleep now, i’ll talk to you more tomorrow....” he murmured, seeing you give him a tired yet reluctant nod.

“I’m really sorry, I wanna talk to you more because you’re spending New Year’s over there but the sleep is starting to creep up on me,” you pouted.

Shaking his head, he simply looked at you with that same relieved smile he gave you, realizing just how much he liked you, the extent threatening to tip over the line dividing like and love.

“Happy New Year, cheng cheng,” you teased, recalling what you heard his grandma call him, seeing him bury his head in his arm, his laugh muffled but no less cute.

“Happy New Year, Y/N.”

You’d ended the call, and his mother had walked into the room, a knowing look on her face, “Done with your sappy phone call yet?” she teased.

Sicheng simply sighed, flopping onto his back with a giddy smile on his face.

“Ma, I think I'm in love.”

[bbnibini]

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – fifty-nine🔖

Reassurances did little for Satan to forgive his own blunders. You were at his side, attentive to the slightest changes of his expressions, intent on making him realise that he had not been at fault for what happened. The Purgatory Hall members did not comment on what they saw, and instead ushered everyone to their living room, asking for their preference of refreshments. Mammon seemed shaken by his brother’s outburst and was strangely quiet until Solomon sat next to him and enticed him to form a pact.

“An equivalent exchange for a moment of my time, don’t you think so?” The sorcerer smiled, any emotions or thoughts unreadable on his face. Mammon frowned, then looked at you as if he were betrayed; the sorcerer did not mention any catch on his agreements last night, attributing his generosity to drunkenness. You should have known better to believe him.

“Oh, you couldn’t take a joke, Avatar of Greed~ At least I tried~”

“Didn’t sound like a joke to me.”

You mouthed a sorry to Mammon, hearing him shout something about notebooks before your attention returned to Satan. Perhaps due to his outburst earlier, everyone’s eyes were focused on him, notes on their hand along with looks of expectation—no one was willing to speak first even if they wanted the study session to start. Lucifer’s warning was received in varying degrees: from indifference to outright opposition. You even heard Asmo say something about how unfair their firstborn was, expecting everyone to study together when he couldn’t even go. Then, you turned your attention to someone across from you.

“Simeon says he has an ice pack, Levi.” You tested. You weren’t sure if you were forgiven yet. He had defended you and seemed worried about you last night, but you would honestly do the same for him if you had ever switched roles. Just because you are fighting doesn’t mean that you stopped being friends. Thankfully, he did not ignore you this time, and instead let out a soft hm, as he stood up. No words, but there was acknowledgement at least.

Sigh.

Now…how do you deal with this situation?

The air was too thick and awkward. Satan was spent. Was it a good idea to continue today’s group study? But everyone didn’t seem to have any intentions of leaving either. You waited and waited, the sound of quill pens hitting paper almost deafening. They might as well just study alone!

“What the—how am I supposeta understand this? Yer handwriting’s chicken scratch!”

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Well. At least Mammon and Solomon were having a more productive time. You squeezed Satan’s hand from under the table, catching him off guard. “Something the matter?” His eyebrows were knotted and he looked so solemn while reading paragraphs of human realm info dump.

“So, got any ideas on how to start?”

His tense expression relaxed. “You were worried.”

“Of course.”

“Not scared?”

You blinked at him. “Scared?”

He leaned his head to your side, unbothered by the public display of affection. For an unlabelled relationship, he never gave you the time to doubt his sincerity towards you. “You were the last person I ever…” He paused, making circular motions on your palm. “I didn’t want you to be afraid of me.”

You booped his nose and laughed, causing him to pout. “I would have avoided you if I were.”

Simeon and Luke’s arrival did wonders on the large study table. The food caused Beelzebub to perk up, and Belphie was happily admiring the pretty “galaxy drink” (fully awake) that Luke had concocted for the refreshments. Asmo was making knowing glances at yours and Satan’s side, causing you to straighten yourself up from your seat and making your not-yet-demon boyfriend laugh at your delayed reaction.  Levi also came back, nursing his black eye with an ice bag, wincing at the pain. Mammon and Solomon were still arguing, making you turn over to them in curiosity.

“What do you mean ya have no notes? Smart people always have notes!”

“Smart people don’t need notes~”

“And smart people can write!”

“Something wrong?” You decided to look over to see what’s going on in their table while everyone was having a snack break.

“Oi, human! This guy’s a total hack!” He pointed at Solomon, who only smiled vaguely at you. “He ain’t no wise King! Can’t even write a darn proper sentence!”

You noticed Solomon’s bandaged hand… “You’re injured.”

“Oh, it’s nothing life threatening. It’ll heal right away.”

…then turned to Mammon who immediately shook his head and sputtered out a multitude of denials. “I-I didn’t do nothin’! His hand’s been broken since we got here!”

“It’s true.” He confirmed, looking over at you with a nod. “I had a tussle with a sorcerer last night.”

“At the mage party?”

“Mhm.”

“With the hot mages?”

“Mhm.”

“While you’re really drunk?”

He tilted his head and snorted a laugh. “I’m still seeing stars right now.”

You sometimes forget that this man was also human like you. After throwing up and drinking a recovery potion, Asmo had been fine—back to his affectionate and cheerful self. Solomon was different. Being a powerful mage didn’t equate to being invulnerable.

“Are you okay? Did I make things difficult for you?”

You saw his eyes widen, as if having someone worry about him was something rare or even impossible to happen. You haven’t seen this expression on his face before—was it timidity? It felt…fragile. He almost looked like a child.

“Difficult?” He parroted. “It’s just a broken hand. Inconvenient, yes. But this doesn’t concern you.”

Any semblance of that fragile child you have seen in him for a fraction of a second disappeared completely, replaced by his usual, whimsical expressions. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way, of course. I appreciate your concern.” He looked over at the other table and said,

“But isn’t Satan starting his tutoring sessions over there already?”

…before going back to teaching Mammon about magic spells.

It almost felt like he was pushing you away, but you thought the idea too ridiculous and dismissed it. He had always been like that.

You sat back on your seat and listened to Satan’s crash course on seductive speechcraft. It was certainly a lot more concise and interesting than Lucifer’s complex reviewers—okay, interesting was an understatement. He hadn’t even started with his seductions yet and you were already seduced.

“Focus on the lesson, please.” He playfully bonked your head with Lucifer’s rolled up reviewers. “Or do you want to get detention?”

“But this is a study group.”

“Oh, I am not shy with inflicting punishments myself. Especially to wayward students.” Or so he says feigning annoyance, but when everyone else wasn’t looking, he had the audacity to kiss your cheek and say, “Feeling feverish? It is the rainy season.” You caught Levi rolling his eyes on your peripheral, probably thinking of something along the lines of stupid normies.

So much for stealth, Avatar of Wrath.

There were many more instances, like a squeeze on your hand below the table, or an endearingly cheesy poetry thinly masked as a love confession on Literature 63: Classics All Over Three Realms. There was a hilarious recount of Emison Beckstein’s novel, but instead of the usual characters, everyone else turned into various breeds of cats to keep the lecture interesting. Simeon ate up the whole DevilPoint presentation, clapping his hands and even crying a bit at how well-thought out it was. It was almost strange to see Luke being the more muted one in their angelic duo. Belphie was strangely active once it was time for Astronomy 18, answering Satan’s questions at lightning speed that it was almost impossible to butt in.

“You’ve read your reference books. I’m impressed.” Satan said smiling.

“I haven’t touched a book willingly for at least 600 years.”  Belphie drawled out, unsmiling.

Meanwhile on the other table, you heard Mammon groan in frustration as he got the answer wrong for the nth time.

“Whaddya mean it goes like this and that? It doesn’t make a lick of sense!”

“Oh? But it’s so simple!” Solomon then began to explain the answer in words you can barely comprehend. You looked at the sorcerer, then at Belphegor and concluded: geniuses are scary.

Your eyes chose to settle back onto Satan, finding his intelligence not as inhuman (irony at its finest) nor as unattainable as the two abnormals. “I like your brain the best,” you didn’t realise you said that out loud, making Satan burst into laughter.

“I would prefer it if you would like me enough to pay attention. Or is my body part your only reason to like me?”

You threw a french fry at Asmo when he suddenly waggled his eyebrows. “Luke is listening, so get your head out of the gutter!” Your action prompted everyone else to do the same, throwing and shoving food into the former Jewel of Heaven’s mouth, a complete caricature of what he once was.

“Listen to what?” Luke blinked, looking up from his notes. Simeon gracefully evaded the smaller angel’s questioning with a random fact about stars. Beel didn’t really understand what was going on, but seeing as his brothers had chimed in, he shoved a few more French fries at the distraught Asmo’s mouth, an outcry letting out of his poor victim’s mouth (something about empty calories yet he swallowed every single piece anyway).

“Sataaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan, they’re being so mean~!” He said Satan but embraced another(read:you), squeezing himself in between the two of you and smooshing both of your cheeks.

“You smell like booze, Asmo.”

“Oh, darling! Why must you hurt me so? :( ~”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, stroking his head in comfort. “You’re fine, Asmo. You’ll get past this. You always do.”

Satan’s smile was deathly cold. While he insisted that it was fine for Asmo to sit in between both of you, you knew better. He’s probably going to ask to be spoiled later. The thought alone was something to look forward to, and made the gruelling endeavour of studying for the sake of not getting into trouble with Lucifer a little less tedious. And the troublemaker who dragged everyone into the mess in the first place seemed to be trying his best as well, at least according to Solomon who remarked (rather impressed) about Mammon’s astounding mathematical abilities once the session for the day concluded.

Once Satan got the hang of pacing his lessons, everyone observed a drastic improvement on their mock test scores. Levi a.k.a on-the-verge-of-getting-the-rope-for-his-numerous-attempts-to-skive-athan (who you have long reconciled with after a teary marathon of Ghibli films with Beel and Belphie), almost received his second black eye when he unconsciously reached in for a kiss from his unamused younger brother. Satan was crushed into a hug by a grateful Beel anyway, whose sincere thank you, had been more well-received compared to Leviathan’s smooches (causing the third-born to sulk). The said incident had been implored to never be mentioned by both parties ever again.  

Of course, due to your busy days working as the exchange student representative (as well as Satan’s duties as student council treasurer), your vague relationship remained a status quo. You’re definitely NOT “just friends”. No platonic friends would ever kiss each other as much as both of you do. It couldn’t be brushed off as something out of friendly affection either, as you recalled every affection you shared under the sheets as anything but friendly. You almost got in trouble for your public displays of affection a few times when Lucifer had time to attend the study sessions. Almost as if Satan wished to be caught—he was usually better with being discreet at the times when Lucifer wasn’t around. When you ask him this, you never get an answer though, so you attributed his silence as affirmations.

💌💌💌

“What are we sneaking around for?” You asked him, genuinely confused as he led you to Lucifer’s garden. He’s entering this place…willingly? Is this really Satan? He laughed when he mimicked your thoughts, much like J*seph Joestar’s running gag in Part 2—only, this was mother effing Satan; he was no ridiculously buff anime character but a respectable member of the illustrious Seven Princes of Hell™.  He immediately denied your sensible (ha!) claims of him taking interest in your Chinese cartoons, and instead refocused your attention to a small patch of land he told you to enter.

“Lucifer doesn’t know about this spot.”

“In his own garden?”

His close-eyed smile had been lovely. “He’s been too busy to know. Anyway, I have something to show you.” He urged you to enter the small hole of trimmed grass hidden by Lord Diavolo’s statue—an enchantment, you’ve begun to know as he had undone numerous barriers protecting a space that appeared a lot bigger than the Alice in Wonderland-esque “door”.

“Your room?”

He moaned out in approval from afar, obscured by a stack of tomes on his table. It did seem like he was trying to retrieve something from his balcony. “I installed this portal just recently. Makes the trip to Purgatory Hall more convenient.” After the incident with the broken blackboard, you had been holding the studying sessions in Purgatory Hall instead. The atmosphere there had been too familiar to really consider on changing locations, and Simeon and the others did not seem to mind. “Actually, can you come here instead? It’s pretty dark in there.”

Dark? Well of course. Devildom is in eternal darkness. But you held your urge to banter.

You were surprised to see light in a small corner of Satan’s balcony—an artificial sun, albeit small, illuminating a familiar flower on a plastic pot.

“That’s…”

Satan smiled sheepishly as he urged you to scoot over to him. “Mhm. I did say I’ll give you another gift.”

“This…this is too much!” Growing a carnation? In such a harsh environment? “Isn’t it hard to…make it survive here?” Your question was answered by a quick peck on your lips. His beautiful emerald eyes narrowed at you, lips curving up into a smile that made your heart skip a beat. How much does he love you to do this?

“I didn’t do this to make you cry, kitten.” A nickname he only approved of if you were the one it addresses to. He wiped your tears with his fingers, kissing the corner of your eyes. “Look closely. Such a lovely little thing, trying their best to live their life in an unfamiliar environment. Doesn’t it remind you of someone?”

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“UuuuuuUUuuuuuuU!!!!”

“Hey—! What did I just sa—!”

You tackled him to the ground, smothering him with your hugs and kisses. “I loveuuuu Sachaaaan—” You sniffled, soothed by the gentle strokes he made on your back. Despite his protests, he continued holding you anyway, offering loving words you knew he meant from the bottom of his heart.

“I love you too. More than anything in this world.” You wondered what number that kiss was in your ever growing kisses with him; how does he see you in those alluring green eyes of his? Was his heart also beating out of his chest?

“I don’t want to leave…” you couldn’t help but say, which he replied with a forehead kiss to signify his agreement as he sat you on his lap, back leaning on the wall.

“Then don’t.”

“Sataaaaaan.”

“It’s only a suggestion.” He laughs. “A tempting one, isn’t it?”

You finally stopped crying. Only an evidence of it was left on your tear-stained face. “What will happen to us?

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…sorry, that question is unfair.”

“We’ll…”

“Think of something?” You finished his sentence for him, causing him to laugh quietly at your side. “Once Mammon passes his exams—oh, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t do anything this time.”

“Huh.”

“Well, Solomon is going out of his way to help despite his injury. And…” He hesitated, yet spoke out his thoughts anyway. He didn’t want any secrets, and you felt the same. “...it seems like Lucifer did not approve of such arrangements.”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Why so?”

“It’s just suppositions but, Solomon might be involved in whatever Lucifer is busy with.”

You suddenly felt very guilty. “Doesn’t that mean that I did something really bad?” Did you intrude upon his already busy life?

“Well, he was the one who accepted.” Satan, however, reassured you.

“Still…”

“I did say it was a supposition. I might be wrong.”

You hoped so. You couldn’t really know. In fact, you didn’t know much about the sorcerer at all.

“Speaking of suppositions…” ah. He’s pouting again. “You mentioned about a love letter. A secret admirer…”

“Someone I NEVER knew and never made himself known.” You emphasised, kissing the creases on his brows away. “Satan, I haven’t thought about him until you brought him up.”

“Which means his letter is still out there—in your room, rotting away in its leafy carcass.”

“Paper. It’s paper. Say it like how everyone does.”

He made a tch sound, making you promise to retrieve it and have it read once he’s finished with his tutoring.

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What you didn’t expect was his impromptu proofreading when you handed it out to him. You never really managed to finish reading it—pages and pages of flowery words and lovelorn promises. Your heart skipped a beat with several of its passages, and were surprised by how…this enigma seemed to know you despite not knowing him at all.

“Clearly this is a stalker.”

And so, your romantic fantasies were thereby thwarted by your cynical demon, You saw him roll his eyes as he begrudgingly admitted the author’s skill with his word weaving, amazed by his vocabulary and prose. “Carnations too. Had he seen my gift and imitated me?”

“It must be a coincidence.”

That, he readily admitted to be the likely possibility. He hated how you made sense; gives him less reasons to ask to be comforted (read: spoiled) by you. “He could be dangerous.” And so, he turned to Freud and his idea of rationalisation. He wished it could have been projection—reaction formation if you wanted him to be more civilised; he can make compromises. Any excuse to inflict harm on the said man, really.

“If he was, then I never found myself to be in one. Much more when you’re there protecting me.”

“I do all the work for him, do I not?” You chuckled and kissed his still pouting lips.

“If you hate it so much, you can throw it away.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, considering the thought. “Or, I can one-up my competition and write a better letter. Letters. I can write one every day starting now.”

Your eyes widened, remembering the embarrassing bouquet he gave you. Oh. Oh. No! You weren’t having that again!

“No more grand displays, sir! I object!”

“No more? I haven’t even started yet.”

You shook your head repeatedly, complaining to him about the aftermath of his previous one. You couldn’t believe the utter audacity of his words.

“You call that a grand display? You have some low standards, kitten. I am inclined to change it.”

“No!”

He caged you in his arms this time, forcing you to meet his eyes. Darn it. Why was he so handsome?

“What would I do to make you say yes?”

Any embarrassment was thrown aside; replaced by evil, evil thoughts. You smirked.

“I want you to be my boyfriend. For real. No secret relationships. Full-blown, embarrassing declarations of love by the school grounds.”

“Deal.”

“Ha! I knew—Wait what?!”

He only answered with a smirk on his annoyingly attractive face, making you realise the answer for yourself.

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Well fuck. You just got played. The letter? Good as gone. Burnt, burnt, burnt to ashes, too eager for its own end to await for the vermilion bonfire on the school grounds to claim it.

Instead, it had been you who was being threatened to be consumed. You shouldn’t have allowed yourself to be pressured into this. Everything had gone according to his plan—he really is a show-off! And you thought he was the “normal” one in their family!

Oh shit.

Exams were coming up after the festival.

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You’re going to get looks while taking your exams, won’t you? You definitely will!

Try as you will to make it known to him that you were not pleased with your agreements, he only laughed at you, planting kisses on your face. When you asked him if he was treating you like how he treats catty (pun intended) felines, he did not answer; but all it took was a glance at his impish lips to know (internally) he said yes.

💌💌💌

You couldn’t concentrate. Not with knowing what will happen on the festival dance. Not with that big ass bonfire standing there, reminding you of your stupidity. Not with your almost-boyfriend reminding you of how excited he was to dance with you tonight! It was a miracle you were able to carry out your final duties as a festival organiser without letting so much as a stumble out from the many opportunities where you could have screwed everything up for everyone—at least your body had the decency to not do that. You wish you could say the same for Satan. Oh, you loved him so much but sometimes, he can be so…so infuriating. What was more infuriating was that he knows deep down, that you were looking forward for this too.

Was his grand gestures as grand (read: embarrassing) as you anticipated? Immensely grand. Immensely showy. Immensely devilish and so very him. You were blindfolded on your way, a smiling Asmo surprisingly cooperative and tight-lipped when you asked him questions about his contributions to his brother’s grand grand schemes.

You only heard a muted orchestra in the background as you neared your destination. Asmo didn’t let you go, and instead led you up a small flight of stairs—one, two, three…five steps. This must be the makeshift stage near the bonfire where Lord Diavolo would be sitting for the rest of the event. You could hear his voice now, a cheerful baritone that hinted of his own cooperation (and perhaps outright enthusiasm) when he greeted you, marvelling at the unique charms of human world school festivals where he took his most recent project’s inspiration from.

“You can open your eyes now, sweetie.” Asmo whispered on your ear as you felt a bright light on you, eyes squinting at its sheer intensity. A spotlight? But before you could ask anything, Satan’s voice boomed in the speakers. Your still squinting eyes, adjusting to the light searched for its source but only saw the fascinated crowd below you.

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“You asked for grand gestures and I delivered,” You didn’t! Not unironically! But your protests were deafened by the noise around you. Clamours and cheers, your name mixed in the cacophony of sounds shouted by voices familiar and dear to you. You saw some of them in the crowd, but your favourite blond was not among them. You strained your ears and listened to his voice once more.

“A famous human playwright named Shakespeare once said that the robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief. I didn’t give much thought to his words, thinking it meant something shallow or too humanly inclined for me to understand, but…” he called your name, a sweet and gentle tone permeating his love for you.

“But now, dearest? I feel like I do.”

His words were like a trigger, muting the voices from below—they formed groups around the bonfire, partner after partner, hand in hand, dancing to the beat of human realm music in harmonious cadence.

“My lovely thief, may I steal you away tonight? For the rest of your life?

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Save the last dance for me, won’t you?”

Wait. Isn’t that—

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬʸᴵᴺᴳ... ᵐᵉʳʳʸ⁻ᵍᵒ⁻ʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʲᵒᵉ ʰᶦˢᵃᶦˢʰᶦ: ʰᵒʷˡ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵛᶦⁿᵍ ᶜᵃˢᵗˡᵉ ᴼˢᵀ 1:05  ───|────── 2:53 |◁              II             ▷|

“Howl’s Moving Castle?”

Anime music? In a school festival? This must be Levi’s doing!

“Are you going to stare at me, or are you going to dance?”

“Levi?” Speak of the demon!

“No, Sophie—of course it’s me! Geez. How did I get dragged into this….”

His black eye was still there, but it was healing. Blushing to the tip of his ears, he fumbled as he searched for your hands and clumsily held them as he led you down the stage.

“M-Moses!”

“Not a name I thought I would hear in Devildom, but I see your point.”

Your point exactly? Exactly as you might be thinking right now. The crowd parted to make way for you, until Levi settled you in an empty spot and shakily threaded your fingers. “J-just so you know, Satan forced me into this! I have an event to grind, y’know! You should be grateful!”

“I am. Thank you, bestie~”

You heard him scoff, yet he took the lead effortlessly anyway, matching the strides of the other dancers around you. “You only call me that to tease me.”

“You know it’s out of friendly affection.”

“Yet you dodged and got me this black eye—“

“What, you want us to get it together?” He snorted, his amber eyes narrowing as he caught you after you dipped. “You better make it up to me soon. I’ve listed so many of your felonies and they’re only increasing as we speak.”

“Oh?” You glanced at him sideways and prepared to spin. “What are friends for?”

Dancing with Levi had been lovely. It was easy to talk to him, especially after how you’ve already made up.

“Hey,” he called to you, sounding hesitant.

“Yeah?”

With bitten lips, the words he caught in his throat collected, and with a sigh to lessen its impact—its filter, he finally spoke. “Are you happy?”

That made you think and look back at your memories in Devildom. It’s not always sunshine and rainbows of course, and you would argue that there might even be hostility there at both parties especially your first encounters with them. But now?...

“I couldn’t be any happier!” You smiled at him. “I’m so glad I came here! I’m so glad I met all of you!”

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“I’m glad.” Somehow, the way he smiled back at you felt faraway. “I’m going to lose a best friend when you’re gone.”

…until he voiced out his thoughts and you finally understood. He was so silly, wasn’t he?

As his turn came to an end, and with it, seeing Beel approaching, you kissed his cheek and answered,

“No one can ever take your place, Levi. You will always be my best friend too!”

You might have imagined it, but it looked like Levi was about to cry when you left.

💌💌💌

“Congrats.” Greeted Beel as he linked your arms together.

“…Satan bribed you, didn’t he?”

Beel pondered for a bit as he spun you, catching your back with his palm and threading your fingers once you repositioned. “He cooks really well. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay! You’re right though. You should ask him to make as much meals as you want to take advantage of the situation.” Now, Beelzebub might be the demon amongst both of you (at least biologically speaking), but you were far, far more devilish and equally vengeful. “Do you want recommendations? I know some exquisite human realm cuisine you could ask him to make for you!”

The way Beel’s mouth watered as he asked you to make good of your promise after the festival affirmed that you have successfully turned the tides against your almost-boyfriend. Wordlessly, he guided you to your next partner, a rather sleepy looking Belphegor who was trying his best to keep himself awake.

“Just a little more, Belphie!” You encouraged him, taking the lead for him instead.

“Sleep…”

You laughed and shook your head as you tried your best to keep him awake.

You got to hand it to Levi for choosing good anime music. To an unsuspecting normie, it sounded like it belonged to a ballroom. In fact, it was wayyyy too effective as Belphie complained about it sounding too much like a lullaby. “Ah…congrats by the way.”

“Thanks..

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Belphie, your face is too close—“ Ah, he’s almost going to pass out! You snapped a finger in front of him and he repositioned.

“…aren’t you going to say something to me?”

You blinked your eyes and tilted your head. “No?” And you saw Belphie frown as you answered. Almost melancholy. He shook his head.

“Nevermind. What’s important is you’re here, and you’re happy.”

Try as you should to understand what he meant, you could not. Not even once he led you to Barbatos, your next partner.

“Congratulations.” He offered his heartfelt felicitations, and you couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment.

“Why did Lord Diavolo agree to such a…grand (you hated that word now) scheme?”

Barbatos hummed, filled with his usual grace and composure. “Milord is generous and wise. And you,” He halted his words for a short while to hold you by the waist. “You are more than a student to this school. You’re family to those brothers, so family you shall be treated.”

That answer was very him, you supposed--showing not a hint of his emotions or inner thoughts. His dedication to his work was impressive.

“Shall we?” He offered his gloved hand to you as his turn ended. And when you accepted, you were treated to a small, yet rare smile from him. Simeon awaited you on your next turn, a serene smile on his lips as well that you felt obliged to return (albeit more awkwardly).

“Congratulations!”

Bright. Bright! Too powerful!

“You have provided me such excellent material for TSL’s next volume. Thank you, kindly~!” Were you just imagining it, or was he teasing you right now? The way he led you was flawless, feeling his grace down to his fingertips.

“Are you really going to use Satan’s cheesy grand gestures in your next volume?” You blinked your eyes, suddenly reminded of the fact that you’re friends with a very successful author. The fact that you’re not starstruck right now was almost unimaginable.

“The Lord of Masks and his unexpectedly romantic side is very very tempting to explore.” He reasoned, holding you by the shoulder. “The current arc needs a bit more light-hearted scenes, methinks.”

Thankfully, you were able to talk him out of doing it before he surrendered you to Mammon.

“Grats…” He was frowning when he intertwined your hands with his, an exasperated sigh as he begrudgingly took the lead. “Your boyfriend’s scary, y’know? I almost didn’t make it out alive!”

“Make what of?” You asked, curious. “Did something happen, Mammon?”

“!!!”

When he didn’t talk, you repeated your question.

“Gah! Don’t look at me with those, googly human eyes of yours!”

“What. Did. He. Do?”

When he didn’t answer you again, you threatened to step on his foot (empty threats, but it was worth a try) so he finally relented (emphasis on the finally). “I might have…tried…to steal the flower on the pot. I’msorryIcan’thelpit!”

He was shocked to hear you laugh instead of being angry with him. Smiling, you shook your head.

“It wasn’t stolen if you’re caught, right?”

Mammon’s confused look was rather adorable.

“…hey, human?”

“Hey, Mammon.” You parroted.

He chuckled and spun you around. “You’re weird.”

He only laughed at you once more when you agreed.

💌💌💌

“Darling~!! It’s our turn now!”

You giggled and accepted his hand. “Hello, Asmo! It’s nice to see you again!”

His playful way of leading you washed the fatigue off of you. It was exhausting to switch partners every one or two spins and dips. And you were happy that Asmo noticed. “Sooooo, how are you enjoying your day?”

“Unsurprised, but still embarrassed. Probably a little hurt you kept this from me.”

Asmo feigned concern, catching your larky tone. “I’m soooo sorry, darling! But Satan insisted! And, you’re happy he did this deep down, aren’t you? Don’t try lying to me now! Love and lust are connected, however blurred~”

“Tch.”

“Fufu~ See, see! I was right!♡” Sometimes, you hated how right he was. And pretty. What’s worse is that he knows it.

“You’re terrifyingly perceptive.” Asmo hummed in agreement as he supported your back to dip.

“Of course!~ I’m amazing, aren’t I? Praise me more!”

“You’re amazing, Asmo~”

“Oh, darling, I love you!!!”

You laughed as you accepted his hug, a fish out of water compared to the synchronised movements around you.

“I love you too, Asmo.”

The artificial sunset reminded you of the real ones in the human world. The large bonfire at the centre of the school grounds continued to flicker as the music played, and Mephisto's voice echoed in the speakers, cueing everyone to switch partners. Satan was dancing with a succubus, being an excellent escort, and you couldn't help the bubble of pride in your chest as he reassured his nervous partner who stepped on his foot a few several times. Isn’t my boyfriend amazing? You couldn’t help but think, a voice from inside you asking several questions back: Why weren't you jealous? Because you didn't have any reason to be. You felt safe. Secure in his company. You knew he would never hurt you, not on purpose. You trusted him. You loved him.

"He's good at dancing, isn't he?"

Your eyes focused back at your own partner, laughing at his awkward way of holding your hand.

"I don't have a deadly disease, Solomon." You joked, threading your fingers together and feeling the heat of his hand. He pulled away instinctively, eyes looking elsewhere. Oh darn. You keep on forgetting he's injured.

"Did I hurt you?"

His silence was jarring, but not as jarring as the look of shock in his eyes.

“Does it hurt that much?” Your racked your brain over that healing spell you learned in class. It was Latin something. Or was it Gaelic? Oh shit. You were bad at rune magic—

“Never. Not at all.” Ah, he’s back. You couldn’t help but think, focusing on the bags under his eyes, his usual yet somewhat tired smile. “Let’s try again, shall we?”

You thought you imagined it at first: a surprising, fragile side to him. Maybe it was the lighting, maybe it was something else. But he was back, and he was squeezing your hand and it hurt. You felt that weird vulnerability again when he apologised to you, before promptly disappearing when he teased you about your sweaty palms, never to return.

“You’re not going to heal it?” You asked, pertaining to his broken hand. “Not before finals?” He has more than enough magical capacity to do so. As if reading your thoughts, he flippantly replied.

“Mammon’s reactions are amusing.”

“I knew you had an ulterior motive!”

Your eyes couldn’t help but wander back to Satan—smiling and having fun. You were relieved to see him enjoying himself, but he was so far away all the same. You could see however, your next partner. Amongst the crowd was the ever elegant Lucifer, leading a demoness who seemed to be enjoying his company.

“…thank you.”

But before you could reply back to him, the sorcerer had already given you to your next partner (Lucifer), making an exaggerated curtsy as he left.

“We finally meet. Shall we?” Lucifer offered his gloved hand and you accepted with a smile. Satan was closer now, almost a turn away, and you caught yourself stealing glances at him as much as he was. You saw him mouth, Lucifer’s glaring at you with a laugh, and you fearfully turned back to the firstborn, and confirmed that yes. He was glaring, and yes. You have missed a spin.

“I was against Satan’s ridiculous gambades. In fact, I find that my negligence caused a lot of discomforts.”

Gulp.

“If this is about Solomon—I,”

His eyes widened at your Freudian slip, holding you in a cuddle dip. You felt him sigh from the nape of your neck, the hoarseness in his voice, you attributed to fatigue. “So you knew.”

You didn’t want to face him. This was supposed to be a light-hearted dance, so why does it feel like you’re being grilled?

“You should have consulted me first, then again…you do not know the underlying reasons of my anger, do you?”

By the time you had to switch back to your original position, you felt yourself creasing your brows. “I don’t. Won’t you tell me?”

He didn’t answer, satisfying your curiosity with thoughtful silence.

“…I’m sorry for keeping things from you.”

You tilted your head, not really knowing what he meant. “Things?”

“You’ll know soon enough. Speaking of…”

A spin. A turn, and he continued. “Come to Barbatos’ Estate after this. You can bring Satan or any other of my brothers whom you trust. Of course, you can also go alone.”

That was…really strange. It certainly snapped you out of that fairytale-like feeling you’re having.

.

.

.

.

“…hello, gorgeous.”

…Only for it to come back at full strength once your weary heart finally found its match.

“If I become the centre of gossip after this, you have to take responsibility.” You pouted as you accepted his hand, threading your fingers together as you moved to the music.

“I only listened to your suggestions.” His close-eyed smile widened as you missed his foot. You hissed at him and it only earned you a sneaky kiss at the back of your hand as you made a turn.

“So, my dearest; on a scale of flawless to perfect, how do I fare as a boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes. “Your first day on the job and you’re already up there, aren’t you?”

“The highs of a love realised.” He bantered.  “A luxury a few can afford.”

You missed his foot again and frowned. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.”

When did the music stop playing? When did everyone disperse? The bonfire illuminated only he and you, casting shadows on vermilion. His forehead touched yours, looking down to meet your eyes. There was a smile there, not his usual ones—almost warm. “After this and it’s almost over.”

“Oh…”

He kissed your forehead to silence the dark thoughts looming inside there, squeezing your hand to know he wasn’t going away. Not ever.

“My heart will always be with you.” He called your name. “You are just a teleport away anyway. And we can call each other every day.”

“But what if I want to kiss you?”

He kissed you just then, feather soft before pulling away. “Would you like to make a deposit? For a rainy day, of course.”

You blushed, stunned at the sudden gesture. “I’ll use it all in one go,”

A kiss again, this time longer than the other. You stopped moving already and it took you a while to notice. You were too drunk on the moment to notice anything else, in fact.

“Wouldn’t that be a problem? I’m almost tempted to keep you here.”

“Don’t say that…” you bit your lip. “And I’m almost tempted to stay.”

You hated the thought of being away from him. Most especially now that…you had something. A label. An officiation of sorts—validating your feelings for each other.

“Won’t you trust me?”

He said to you, four simple words that you couldn’t help but simmer over as your happy yet fleeting days with him are almost coming to an end.

Lucifer

Have you made your decision?

And then there’s that—a thought you had set aside in favour of not letting your wonderful day to be spoiled. However you wish to evade responsibility however, you could not. You asked Satan’s words back at you again:

Do you trust him?

💌[ Tell Satan. ]

💌[ Go alone. ]

💌masterlist

[ MEMORIA 10: ~To Deceive, To Protect~ unlocked. ]

[ MEMORIA 10: ~To Deceive, To Protect~ unlocked. ]

💌 Read now

💌Read now (first draft version/private blog)

[ A new option has opened in Mammon’s Route: ~Smile at him~ ]

💌Read now

[winchest09]

The Bunker Party - Debrief

Hey everyone!

Our bunker party was an absolute blast. It was one filled with laughter, smiles and support and it warms my heart to see so many of your faces each time we do this. This party went in many different ways from fanfiction to urban dictionary - to seeing some of the SPN family’s best dance moves. It was a TREAT. 

6 and a half hours we were talking…SIX AND A HALF and again, I loved every single second. It was so nice to see so many gorgeous faces, and I’m so happy that so many of you joined us! The support from you guys for each other, the love in this fandom; I can’t express how much I adore it.

Me and @katehuntington​​​​ love holding these events and we are already planning the next live stream (date to be announced) but it will be in July. 

This is the lowdown for the The Bunker Party! Sorry it’s a little late, I’ve been ill! 

Below you will find:

Everyone who joined - their tags, what’s coming up fic wise and their masterlist.

A Challenge to join 

Blogs who want to help with your writing

Alpha? Beta? Omega?

Want a link breaker?

Fic & blog recs

Announcements

So without further ado… *cracks fingers*

To everyone that joined…

You are the guys that make it the live stream what it is.  So below is a list of everyone who was on the chat last night accompanied by their masterlist and what they have coming up soon! In no particular order…

@katehuntington​​​: Kate is currently working on the next instalment of Ride With Me and All I Want. She’s been teasing us with little ideas that keep popping into her head too...

Her masterlist can be found HERE

@flamencodiva​​​: This babe is currently working on a multitude of things and we are super excited to see them come out. We have her brand new fiction ‘What could have been’ as well as Call of the Ocean and many others! 

Check out her masterlist HERE

@whatareyousearchingfordean​​​: Alex is currently writing the epilogue to her Jensen fiction Et Cetera AND she has decided her next fiction!

Firefighter Dean x OFC Marina. From what we’ve already heard…it sounds amazing! I won’t give away any plot points that we were told just yet but it’s one to be put on your watch list! 

Her masterlist can be found HERE

@superfanficnatural​​​:  This babe is currently working on the next chapters of The Bringer of balance as well as the next chapters of The Choice! Also still thinking about his knight of hell x demon dean fic which just sounds so good.

We’re living for it!

Go and give him some love, his masterlist can be found HERE

@emoryhemsworth​​​: This beaut has broken her lil hiatus and posted the sequel to Because of You. Piece by Piece is amazing and if you haven’t read it yet, i suggest you check it out. She’s also writing her first chapter of her series idea. 

Check our her masterlist HERE:

@malfoysqueen14​​​: This lovely lady is new to the Supernatural fandom and is trying her hand at writing fanfiction! Her first fic “White Flag” is Dean x OFC and it’s going in a very interesting direction! Worth a read!

She hasn’t yet got a masterlist but you can check out White Flag HERE

@waywardbeanie​​: This absolute gem of a woman has JUST posted her very first fanfiction and it’s an absolute DIAMOND. Dean. Letters. Fluff. Smut. It’s gonna tick all them boxes and it’s a must read!

You can find her masterlist HERE

@janicho88​​: This lovely lady has written some lovely stories already and has a few things on her list that are definitely worth a read! 

You can find her masterlist HERE

@soaringeag1e​​: This lovely lady has a lovely full masterlist of things for you to dig your teeth into! There are series, oneshots for Jensen, Dean, Jared, Sam, Misha, Castiel...

You can find her masterlist HERE

@smol-and-grumpy​​: Nat has such a juicy masterlist. We were thrilled she joined us on the chat. From Dear Dean to Light My Fire, you will find series that will make you smile, make you cry and will make you want to cool yourself down because they are that smuttastic. 

You can find her masterlist HERE

@manawhaat​​: This babe joined us for the first time this time and we loved having her! Below you can find her humongous masterlist of goodies for your reading pleasure. Her most recent works being an A/B/O oneshot called “Howl”

You can find her masterlist HERE

@crashdevlin​​: Another lovely new face this time to our chat and we are all enjoyed having you there! This babe is another writer with a very large expanding fic list. If you haven’t read any of her work yet, hop on to it! 

You can find her masterlist HERE

@jensengirl83​​: She is new to the chat this week and new to the spn world of writing. Yet she’s already got a few fics under her belt! Fancy checking them out?

You can find her masterlist HERE 

Me: I’m currently working on two series, Life for Rent and Man’s Best Friend! I also have a couple of Dean series being worked on in the background as well as a couple of oneshots…I have already posted two. One being called Pay Attention and the other called Wet Enough. 

My masterlist can be found HERE:

To the new writers/readers…

Remember guys - we’re all here to love and support you! My inbox is always open if you want to talk fics, want me to look over one etc.

@peaches007​​ @cherry3point14​​ and the few nonnies we had!

We love you, we thank you for reading and we thank you for all the support and love you give us constantly. Thank you for joining the chat and we hope you had an amazing time <3

Go and follow and give them some love!

————————-

Ohhhh yes! 

We have two of them for you too! 

Firstly, the darling @flamencodiva​​​​ is holding a celebration in regards to reaching 1700 followers!

Not only is she hosting a character take over on her blog she’s also posted a writing challenge for all us writers out there! This challenge is still ongoing!

Check it out HERE

Secondly, the wonderful @deanwanddamons​​ & @impala-dreamer​​ are holding a joint challenge. The “I Do Understand That Reference” Challenge. 

Fancy guiding Sam, Dean or Cas through another French Mistake type event? Take a look at the movie list and get yourself signed up!

Check it out HERE

————————- 

Need Help with your fic?

We’ve got you covered!

Need to has out a plot with someone?

The lovely @malfoysqueen14​​​ has offered herself up to be a plot buddy to anyone that needs it. Stuck on a plot point, want to talk through a story line with someone? Give her a message! She’s here to help <3

Need help with research for a fiction?

The most wonderful @waywardbeanie​​​​ has offered herself up to be a researcher for anyone who wants help with their fiction. She has been a die hard SPN fan forever and she’s like the Ellen of our live stream.

Need a researching buddy? Give her a message! She’s a doll <3

————————-

Alpha? Beta? Omega? 

On this livestream, the topic of A/B/O was brought up and we did discuss it in length and detail about what was involved. Now this may not be a genre for everyone and that is absolutely fine.

However for those that are interested in exploring this genre of fanfiction, we highly recommend you check out @kittenofdoomage​​‘s A/B/O universe HERE.

She’s broke it down and has gone into detail to explain it for those that wish to read and/or write it. 

We hope it helps! 

————————-

Fancy yourself a Supernatural Line Breaker? 

We got you! 

Our fabulously talented @talesmaniac89​​ has drawn up so MANY supernatural themed line breakers for your free usage! 

She has two posts full already!

Check them out HERE and HERE

Give them a like, a reblog and please THANK HER if you use her work. She’s a good egg <3 

————————-

Fic & blog Recs!

In our live stream, we want to highlight what we’ve been reading and the amazing authors behind the words. So below is a list of all the fics that we recommend for some good ol fic binging!

Fic Recs

That Day Again by @jensengirl83​​

Summary: Dean tries to comfort the reader. 

Happily Ever Eventually by @crashdevlin​​ Summary:  Reader begins working on Supernatural. She makes fast friends with J2 and after months of flirting becomes something more to Jensen, whose wife is not usually the jealous type. When she gets a small part in a MCU anthology, she meets Tom Hiddleston and things get more complicated.

Fool For Love by @crashdevlin​​

Summary:  Y/n is an omega whose world was flipped upside down when she presented late. She was practically a hermit for years, only going out to socialize once a week. When the Winchester brothers walked into her life, it flipped her world again…but not really right-side up.

Stay by @evansrogerskitten​​

Summary:  Dean is the future Alpha of the Winchester pack, a wolf/human hybrid race that has roamed their land since the first howl under the moon. Dean is the ideal Alpha; strong, smart, and brave. There’s just one thing missing in his life - his future Second, the Omega he’s yet to find. Life for Rent by @winchest09​​

Summary:  Y/N can be anyone for a price. Her life is ruled by contracts, men and money. It’s all she knows; countless identities, seedy clients, and strict regulations. She has to obey the rules, but her past is full of secrets and her future is resting in the wrong hands. But will her next client be the same as the rest?

Et Cetera by @whatareyousearchingfordean​​

Summary: Jared’s younger sister agreed to help out for a few months when one of Supernatural’s makeup artists takes her maternity leave. Trying to juggle her new job and her burgeoning brand, she turns to Jensen for comfort. Can their relationships survive Jared finding out that his best friend slept with his baby sister? Ride With Me by @katehuntington​​

Summary:  Alternate Universe (AU) in which the reader is a horse rider who goes to a ranch in Arizona, owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. She’s there to gain work experience, but then she meets wrangler Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.

PHEW! I definitely think we have enough fics on here to last us for a few days if not weeks!…don’t you? ;) Please guys don’t forget to give these writers some love when reading their fics, comments, reblogs, asks. It means the world.

————————-

I think that’s it!

Thank you so much once again to everyone who joined the chat, we had 6 hours of laughs and i cannot wait to do it again. I’d appreciate it if you could share this to spread the love of the fics and authors on here!

Keep an eye out for the next date for our next livestream! It will be in a couple of weeks, date to be announced. If you guys have any idea’s or want something included, let us know. If you want to be tagged when we announce, let us know!

See you next time!

xox

[thefeastandthefast]

Responding to these posts.

@saltr0se @my-randominterests​ @nothingremainsunsaid​ Damn you guys, reading your thoughts is giving me all the feeeeelings! I actually started writing a fic last night from Geumja’s perspective as she’s pretending to be Heesun (the first fic I’ve made a real attempt to write since I was 15) and this is giving me all of the motivation to finish it. I had to give up on the video editing. It was requiring way too much mental focus of which I don’t currently have enough.

Cutting for length below.

Ok, first of all, how much do I love the word Mi-ryun... so much delicious precision packed into a word. And thanks for clarifying that Geumja actually meant that Heejae made her feel nice because he was a pretty accessory. Damn those inaccurate subtitles spoiling my carefully constructed headcanon. 

So, my theory is also that Geumja fell for Heejae during the whole Heesun charade but she didn’t trust him to love her in all her many permutations, which explains her constant rejections but also her obvious regret later. She’s clearly moved by his emotional honesty and the kind of reckless courage that allowed him to bare his heart again and again after her every attempt to stonewall him. His actions are those of someone who had never experienced real heartbreak before, whereas her entire mode of being is to avoid experiencing pain and heartbreak ever again.

I think it’s pretty telling when you compare the pettiness of her reaction to Heejae’s date in episode 3 (“her face is totally plastic”, she said, “I’m prettier without surgery”) to her complete lack of jealousy when it came to to Boo Hyeon-a in the last few episodes, even though Hyeon-a had been straight up about her interest in Heejae. Geumja was so secure in the knowledge that his love for her in all her fullness was real by the end. There was no need for jealousy or pettiness in that case.  

I think a major reason for her reluctance to rekindle anything with him was also that she didn’t trust or respect his character or his judgment of others’ character. His open-hearted devotion to her was the bright side of the coin, which when flipped to the dark side, becomes a childish, naive, unexamined trust in others. (Remember when Geumja had to remind him not to take everything Son Jin-su said at face value just because he was their client.) Part of that dark flip side also is that he was dangerously complacent about his place in the world (when she needled him about working with conglomerates to literally change tax law.) That scene when Song takes him to dinner with the political wheelers and dealers was actually one of my favorites. It was so apparent how much they saw him as Song’s good obedient dog, a future pawn, and I think he was starting to realize that, too. 

And Geumja has not been childish or naive in a long time, so how could a child like him understand her or even begin to know what she needs? She believed that he had only skimmed the surface of her and that he’d run as soon as the darkness underneath opened up. So they might have a brief entanglement, but it would never last. And it would take too much vulnerability on her part to even allow that brief entanglement.

I think this is why his stunningly romantic confession in 12 was so gorgeous, because he showed that he understood her reservations. She contains multitudes and he would love her in whichever shape she would shift into and hold space for all the different people (who she was in the past and who she will be in the future) that reside within her. They are not something that she can really cast off when fear or necessity or whim strikes, despite her belief that she can.

[fieryfantasybooklover]

Not Dracula - A Sanders Sides fic

Ship: None, just friendship.

Vampire/Human/Highschool AU

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

Virgil sighed, dropping his keys onto the counter before slinging his backpack onto the armchair in his living room and collapsing onto the couch. “By god, it’s been one hell of an exhausting day. Tonight is a night for procrastination and movies. It’s Friday anyway. I have all weekend to be productive.” With that, Virgil retrieved his phone from his pocket and pulled up the group chat he had with his friends. “Hey guys. You wanna come over and hang out? Parents are out of town for a few days.” he texted, already rolling his eyes in anticipation of his friend’s responses. And he wasn’t disappointed - they all replied within the span of a minute, with varying degrees of seriousness.

Nerdy Wolverine: Virgil, you should know by now that we are not going to hang out. That would be dangerous. If you are asking about spending time together as friends, then that would indeed be nice. Also, Roman, I’ve told you many times before that I dislike this nickname.

Sir-Sing-A-Lot: Well, I’ve asked Virgil to take this nickname off but he won’t. So-

Emo Nightmare: Roman, you’ve said so many times that you like that nickname. So, please spare it.

Sir-Sing-A-Lot: Oh be quiet Virgil. As I was saying, Logan, we are both stuck with nicknames. As an answer to Virgil’s original question, I would positively love to come over!

Pop Star: Well, kiddo, I think that’d be great. When do you want us over? I can bring the snacks if you want!

Emo Nightmare: How about around 8:30. Patton, you can bring the snacks but for the love of god please don’t bring capri sun juice packs again.

Pop Star: …. Ok fine

Reptilian Rapscallion: It would be amazing, if you could maybe, not forget that I am in fact included in this chat as well? And since I am counted among your friends Virgil, I am going to go out on a limb and say it would be ok for me to come as well.

Emo Nightmare: Janus- Ok. Yes, of course you can come. You saw the time, right?

Reptilian Rapscallion: Yes, I did. 8:30. I’ll be over then.

The Duke: I’ll be tagging along as well, my chaotic self would not miss this for the WORLD ;))

Roman, Patton, Virgil, Logan, and Janus in sync: *massive sigh* alright then this should be interesting.

Sir-Sing-A-Lot: Well, if everything is all worked out, I’ll take my leave. See everybody soon!

Pop Star: Same here! See all you kiddos later!

Nerdy Wolverine: Farewell for now, everybody.

Reptilian Rapscallion: I shall also leave, and begin to plan out how to avoid Remus causing an explosion.

The Duke: And I’ll plan how to counteract Janus’s plan :)))

Emo Nightmare: *sigh* alright. See you all then.

Virgil fell backwards, sighing deeply as he looked up at the ceiling. “They’re all crazy, but the good kind of crazy. God, Remus is going to kill something someday. Welp, might as well try and do something productive before they arrive.” With that, Virgil tosses his phone to the floor and sets to doing his chores. Dusting the staircase, washing the leftover dishes from the morning, vacuuming up the carpet, Virgil did all of these while blasting his favorite MCR songs. When he was finally finished, he opened the fridge’s secret compartment and pulled out a bottle of blood. Fangs snapping out, he uncorked it and drained it down. Fangs retreating, he tossed the battle out of the window into the waiting garbage can. It was at that moment that the doorbell rang. Wiping his mouth, Virgil grinned and ran to answer it.

Opening it, Virgil barely managed to dodge Roman as the other pushed his way past Virgil. Rolling his eyes, Virgil followed Roman into the living room. Roman collapsed onto the chair and immediately began prattling on about his day. It was comforting, not annoying, and Virgil smiled as he replied to his friend, teasing him and inciting a hilarious reaction in return. It didn’t take long for the others to arrive. First Janus, followed by Logan, then Remus, then Patton, who had come late because he was laden down with snacks. Thus commenced a night of fun and games. Remus had to be stopped from attempting a multitude of crimes, Roman tackled Logan repeatedly, and Janus saved pictures for later blackmail. Virgil just doubled over laughing almost the entire time, and Patton kept the entire thing together. It didn’t take long for them all to become delirious, drunk on sprite and high on sugar.

So when the truth or dare began, the natural inhibitors that remained during the day were not present. So, when Virgil chose truth, he had absolutely nothing stopping him from blurting out that he was a vampire. Which is exactly what he did. A shocked silence echoed after the statement, and then Roman broke out laughing. “Finally, I was wondering when you were finally going to tell them.” Remus smirked from the corner. “I also wondered. After an extensive amount of research and tests I came to the conclusion that you were a vampire.” Logan said, adjusting his glasses as he glanced at Virgil. “Oh come on. Virgil, you can’t think I’d believe that. You’re very emo, but no.”

“Yeah kiddo. I trust you, but this seems a bit implausible.” said Patton, casting a sideways glance towards Logan.

Virgil said nothing, instead standing up and stalking to the fridge. Opening the hidden compartment, he stood aside to give them a full view of the lined up bottles of blood. Patton stood bolt upright and Roman’s eyebrows raised in shock. Janus did not move, but did cast his eyes to the ceiling with a “Well, it seems that our emo is also a vampire. Well, I am honestly not surprised.”

“Well Virgil. I can’t deny that this is very impressive but- vampires aren’t real.”

To this, Virgil sighed, opened his mouth, and unhinged his fangs. “Is that enough to convince you, Roman?” he asked, retracting them again.

“Well, kiddo, I do believe you now.” said Patton, who, surprisingly, had a face of wonder rather than fear on his face.

“Well, they could be fake…” Roman trailed off as the full weight of everything hit him. “Oh my god you really are a vampire.” he breathed. “Yes, yes I am. Don’t worry, I’m friendly and not dracula. Fine in the sun (I really just am emo), garlic does nothing and neither does holy water. Oh, and I’m also not immortal. I just need blood to stay healthy. Animal blood does just fine so that’s what I use.” Virgil said, shooting them a glance, waiting. Their faces varied from wonder (Patton and Roman) to exasperation (Janus and Logan) to positively evil (Remus). There was not a single speck of fear or hate in their glances. “Oh my god, you’re a vampire. That’s so cool!” Roman said, clearly in awe. “The chances for so many pranks...” Remus muttered eagerly, and Virgil sighed. “I can safely say this will be fine, but I can’t deny it will add some interest to this group.” Logan said, clearly already prepping for thwarting Remus. Janus nodded his agreement, adding a simple “You’re so emo, I’m not even surprised.” earning him a playful punch from Virgil. “Well, kiddo, I’m just happy you told us.” Patton grinned at Virgil, earning a smile in return.

They dispersed to their individual sleeping bags, playfully teasing each other before divulging to the telling of scary stories. Many featured vampires, to which Virgil only rolled his eyes. Eventually, they all dropped off to sleep, exhausted and drained of energy from the night full of fun. The clouds and the moon drifted overhead, to be gone by the time they awoke. The friends slept soundly, safe in the knowledge that they would always have each other, no matter the challenges they were faced with.

[chimchimsauce]

Seven (1)

Jungkook is infamous. And yet, YN ignores every word of caution, unable to resist him.

I've heard so many sagas. He brings the drama, six baby mamas . . .

Tag List:  @cadet-lea-05 @flowerychim @lecsah

Add yourself here!

Chapter One

"YN. Get your ass up,"

The girl in question ignores her disgruntled roommate, continuing to type away at the paper that's due next week. She has a good workflow going and won't be interrupted by Miran's antics.

"Are you listening to me?"

Miran's question is only answered by clicks from YN's keyboard. Not even a moment passes before a pillow crashes into YN's head.

"Hey!"

"That's what you get for ignoring me. Rude,"

YN pauses her work, sitting up and glaring at her roommate.

"What do you need?"

"You're going to the club with me,"

"I absolutely am not,"

"You absolutely are. Today is Lady's Night. Drinks are half off if you bring a friend,"

"Can't Wendy go with you?"

"She's sick,"

"Mary?"

"Out of town,"

"Maria?" YN is grasping for straws at this point.

"Hooking up with her new toy,"

"Look, Miran, I know we don't really get along all that great, but I'd really appreciate it if you understood that clubbing is not my thing. The music's too loud, people are too touchy, and I don't like dancing,"

"I'll owe you one. Please? This guy I'm trying to catch is going to be there tonight,"

Miran's usual blunt attitude softens a bit.

YN bites her lip.

"And I'll stop inviting people over without asking you first,"

Miran hits gold. Her roommate's constant flow of people in and out of their small apartment is YN's biggest pet peeve.

"How long do you want to be out?"

Miran punches the air in excitement.

"Just a few hours! It won't be all night, I promise,"

"Fine, "YN says, "But you better keep up your end of the deal,"

"Of course I will. Now come on, get dressed," Miran says, grabbing YN's hands and pulling her up, "Wear something sexy,"

YN looks entirely unamused.

"Do I look like I own a single 'sexy' thing?"

Miran opens her mouth but wisely shuts it before making a comment.

"I'll grab you something from my closet then. Wait here,"

Miran returns with some skimpy little thing that looks more like a somewhat long shirt than a dress.

“I’m not wearing that,”

“Oh, come on! It’s the longest dress I own,”

“You’re joking,”

“I’m not. Come on, put it on. We need to get going,” Miran says, tossing the fabric over to her and closing the door, “Don’t take forever,”

YN pouts but does as instructed, trying in vain to pull the hem lower to cover herself more. It doesn’t work, the girl’s bum nearly slipping out. She’s anything but comfortable, and the sight of her bed next to her is beyond tempting. But the promised absence of surprise visitors to their dorm has YN stepping out, glaring at Miran who claps excitedly.

“You look hot,” Miran says, circling her roommate and analyzing the way her dress fits.

“Whoopie,” YN says with all the enthusiasm of someone discovering their spare tire has gone flat.

Miran doesn’t acknowledge YN’s sass, tugging her into her own bedroom and covering her with a multitude of bracelets and big, heavy hoop earrings. She also sprays a zillion different products into YN’s hair, getting it to poof up in all the right places but still maintain some bounce. By the time she’s satisfied, YN looks more like a floozy than herself.

“They won’t be able to keep their eyes off of you, YN. You’re gonna get so many free drinks, ugh, I’m jealous,”

“I don’t drink,”

“Give them to me, then. I’ll drink enough for the both of us,”

YN frowns. It looks like she’ll end up being the DD. She hopes Miran isn’t a puker because if she so much as gags, YN’s gonna kick her drunk ass out of her car and leave her on the sidewalk, conscience be damned.

The two take YN’s car, a perfectly clean little honda, the most sensible car a girl can have. Miran obnoxiously turns the radio up so loudly YN can barely hear the directions to the club. She winces when Miran sings an incredibly shrieky high note, already feeling a headache coming on.

Of course, there’s no parking, so the girls have to walk two blocks to make it to the long line forming at the club entrance. The guy in front of them smells horribly of weed, causing YN’s nose to crumple up in disgust. She’s tempted to pull the collar of her dress up but she stops herself, knowing that she’d end up flashing the entire street.

And if she thought things couldn’t get any worse, some shiny Bently pulls up to the curb, tires skidding obnoxiously. YN doesn’t get a chance to see who the douchebag driver is, as some guy runs up to the car excitedly, binging a small crowd with him.

“I wonder who that is,” Miran says, standing on her tippy toes to try and get a better view.

It takes YN all of three seconds to decide that she doesn’t care. She shrugs off Miran’s comment, inching forward as more people are let in the pounding club.

Twenty minutes later, the bouncer lets them in after placing a red over twenty-one wristband on Miran’s wrist and a white under twenty-one band on YN’s, swinging open a large black door. The music’s volume triples instantly, some sleazy song thumping with bass. Miran pulls YN inside eagerly, heading straight to the bar. She leans over the countertop, her breasts nearly spilling out as she flirts with the bartender.

“Two shots of tequila, please,” she says, laughing lightly as the man blushes darkly and nearly drops one of the small glasses.

For a moment, YN feels jealous. Miran is hands down the most confident person YN has ever met. No matter what she’s doing or where she is, Miran holds herself with an air of power and confidence that YN can only dream about. While Miran always seeks the limelight, YN is perfectly comfortable in the shadows where no one can see her, where no one pays her any attention.

When the bartender serves the drink, Miran tosses the both of them back with a speed that’s nearly inhuman, grinning as she slams them back down on the wooden countertop.

“Dance with me,” Miran shouts over the music, attempting to pull YN onto the packed dance floor.

“I’m good!” YN shouts back, resisting.

Miran shrugs, letting go of YN’s hand and getting pulled into the writing mass. Strangers brush pass her, their sweat gliding against YN’s skin and causing her to shiver in disgust. Fighting through the blob of people, YN makes it to the corner of the club, sitting awkwardly on a bench as a couple makes out a foot away from her. The noises they make cause YN great discomfort but she tries to drown it out by focusing on her phone.

It’s way too loud for her to try and watch a drama, so YN pulls up Amazon, buying a book that sounds interesting and settling in as best she can. Thankfully, the story hooks her from the first page and YN forgets where she is entirely, well, until some drunken idiot trips and spills liquor all over her.

YN shrieks in surprise as the girl hiccups out an apology before stumbling away, not even trying to help clean YN off. The girl wants to scream from frustration, already tired of the night even though it’s only ten o’ clock.

She fights her way through the crowd again, locating the bathroom after some difficulty. She pushes the women’s door open, cringing as some girl vomits in the stall. The smell is horrendous, YN holding her breath with puffed cheeks as she rushes over to the sink, wetting a paper towel to try and cleanse herself.

After she gets as much of the drink out as he can, she breathes in shallowly, standing under an electric hand dryer until the wet spot is gone. For a moment, YN contemplates staying in the bathroom but the girl starts vomiting again, urging her to head back out into the club.

But just as she walks out, someone smacks her with the men’s bathroom door, sending her tumbling down to the sticky floor.

“Oh for fuck's sake!” she screams, finally at her wit's end.

All she wants to do is go home and take a shower and pretend this night never happened.

“I am so sorry,”

At the sound of a voice, YN looks up, momentarily forgetting her anger as the most handsome man she’s ever seen leans over her, offering up his hand.

He’s gorgeous. His hair falls into his eyes, nearly masking his chocolate brown eyes. His jawline is so sharp YN wonders briefly if anyone’s ever knicked themselves on it.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

YN’s eyes flicker down to his lips, noticing how soft they look.

“I - yeah,” YN says, finally shaking herself out of shock enough to grab his hand.

He smiles then, revealing a dimple in his left cheek and pulls her up. The sight of it causes YN’s heart to skip a beat.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, tilting his head cutely.

Even his voice is attractive, deep in the way that’s just right, not too low or high.

YN nods like a bobblehead, dying inside from how embarrassing she’s being.

“Why don’t I buy you a drink to make up for it?” he asks.

“I - uh, I don’t drink. And I’m underage so . . .”

She regrets the words as soon as she’s spoken them, noticing how lame they make her seem.

“Ah, okay,” he says, still not letting go of her hand, “What’s your name?”

“YN,” she says instantly, ignoring the voice in her head that says giving her name out to a stranger - no matter how attractive he is - is a terrible idea.

“That’s pretty,”

“Thanks,” YN says, her internal systems fried.

Two seconds near this man and she’s reduced to one-word answers.

“Want to sit in my booth with me? You still look a little out of it,”

“Okay,” YN says, letting the handsome stranger lead her upstairs to VIP area, watching as he nods to the bouncer briefly.

This section of the club is a lot quieter, though the music can still be heard. It’s a much-needed break. YN brushes her hair out of her face, looking at the stranger who looks very relaxed in the booth, his elbows on the table and his hands crossed, his head resting on them as he looks YN over thoroughly.

“Your friend dragged you here?” he asks suddenly.

“How’d you know?”

“You don’t look very comfortable,”

“I’m not,” YN admits honestly, “I’m only here because my roommate wanted half-priced drinks,”

Jungkook laughs then, a sound YN finds herself feeling proud to have caused.

“I like you,” he says suddenly, YN’s cheeks coloring, “Most people would have gotten defensive,”

YN shrugs.

“It’s the truth. I’d much rather be at home. Even cleaning is better than this,”

“What do you like to do then, YN?” the stranger asks, genuinely curious.

And thus conversation begins.

Something about her has caught his attention. She’s pretty, definitely, but so are a lot of girls here. He can tell that his presence is affecting her by the way she steals peeks at him when she thinks he isn’t looking instead of blatantly giving him the bedroom eyes as most girls do. It’s refreshing, to say the least.

And as the hours pass, YN finds out that she and the man across from her actually have a lot in common from the types of movies they enjoy to their field of study.

“You failed American history?!” YN asks, laughing at how embarrassed he looks, “That’s such an easy class!”

“I’ve always been bad at History. I can never remember what happened in the past. But to be honest, I don’t get why it’s such a big deal. The past is the past. What matters now is the present,”

“I’d have to disagree with you there,” YN says, drinking her water a waiter (she didn’t even know clubs had waiters) had brought her a while ago, “History is important. You have to learn from the mistakes of the past to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen in the present,”

The man is silent for a moment, some indescribable look on his face.

“Are there any subjects you’ve failed,” he asks, changing the subject.

It’s obvious that YN hit a sore spot so she takes the bait.

“No, never. Calculus was incredibly difficult though,”

“I aced Calc,” the says, smirking.

“No way,”

He nods, placing his glass flute to his lips, letting the red liquid slide through his lips in a way that causes YN’s breath to catch and her to shift on the seat.

“Something about math just clicks. There are rules to follow and I respect that, you know? There’s an order to things,”

“I take it you didn’t take many liberal arts classes then, huh?”

“You’d be correct,”

“I love the liberal arts. That’s why I’m going for a business major. I want to be able to have the tools to help people, start a nonprofit,”

“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart,” he says, face suddenly serious, “But good intentions don’t get you very far in life,”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” YN says, “And you probably won’t be the last. But it just makes me want to do it more,”

The fire in her eyes causes Jungkook to grin, leaning over the table.

“You’re incredibly fascinating, YN,” he says.

Before YN can respond, her phone rings, ruining the atmosphere.

“Sorry,” YN says, picking it up, “Hello?”

“YNNNNNNNNNN,” Miran says from over the phone, obviously drunk out of her mind, “I don - don’t feel so gud. I sleepy,” Miran giggles, “Some nice man is gonna take me home, okie,”

“No!” YN shouts, standing up quickly and rushing over to the balcony, peering over and spotting Miran’s head in the crowd, “I’m coming to get you, okay. Don’t go anywhere,”

YN smiles apoligetically at the handsome stranger.

“I’ve gotta go before my roommate gets kidnapped,”

Jungkook nods.

“Before you leave,” he begins, reaching into his inner breast pocket, pulling out a simple black card with white writing.

YN takes the card without looking at it, making her way downstairs to get Miran.

Thankfully Miran doesn’t puke on the way home but passes out instead. Leaving YN alone to her thoughts

It might be ridiculous, but YN felt a real connection to the man at the club. Everything he did, the way he moved, the way his voice floated through her ears, it all replays in YN’s head.

Once she rouses drunk Miran enough to get her into bed, YN stands in the shower, letting the water stream across her back, unaware of the man across town doing the same thing, both of their thoughts on the other.