#the choice of who wears socks to bed and who doesn’t was very thought out ngl

[yendts]

the seven are not-so-battle ready…

thinking about that scene in mark of athena where they're woken up on the argo II and are all ready to fight in their pajamas and wanted to do my own take on their pjs lol

[pastelavender88]

Right Person At Maybe The Wrong Time- Chapter 21

Summary: There is a shift in Y/n and Eddie’s relationship. How will that pan out?

Y/n’s POV

I was inside the kitchen when I heard Eddie come through the front door. “Y/n?” He called out.

“I’m in the kitchen.” I said back. “Hey, how was work?” I turned my attention to him.

“Same old same old. Except for the fact that a Luxury influencer, named Sabrina, fell in a sauna and burned her face and became unresponsive. But get this, she wasn’t actually rich, she was a girl named Rebecca, who was basically trespassing.”

“Wow. You know, believe it or not, about eighty percent of those celebs and influencers don’t own half of the things they flex on the internet. The real rich people tend to hide their wealth. One time I went to another author’s house, which she described as a quaint, little house, when in reality it was a mansion. Her hallways were as big as this house. I wonder what possessed her to lie and do those things.”

“May described it as FOMO.”

“Oh... yeah that makes sense. The fear of missing out can cause a lot of people to do stupid things. I saw it a lot when I worked in the ER.”

“She said a lot of people worry about not getting the full experience or wonder if they did something different in their life how things would pan out. Do you ever do that?” He tried to make it seem like he was asking out of curiosity but it was obvious there was something behind his words.

“I did. I always wondered what life would have been like if I told Buck sooner or if my mom didn’t die. If I had told Buck sooner, who knows what would have happened. Maybe we would have been happily married or hated the fact that the other was breathing air. Who knows? There were so many different things, but every time, I realized that things happen for a reason. Every choice I made has led me here, with you, and I wouldn't change that for a second.” I said as I invaded his space and gave him a kiss.

“Yeah, but I have to ask, do you miss being a nurse? I mean when we met you were working as a nurse and now you're a writer. You don’t miss the action or the satisfaction of helping people.” He asked.

“To be honest, I thought I did. That was until I noticed that Alex ate all her food separately, or the fact that she always wears mix-match socks for good luck.”  Eddie gave me a confused look. “What I’m saying is I noticed stuff that I had never noticed when I was a nurse and a single mom at the same time. I’m here when she wakes up and I'm here when she goes to sleep. I missed a lot of that while working.” I turned my attention back to the dishes I was washing when he walked in. “I never said this but I missed a lot of Alex’s first because I was working or going to school.”

“Really?” He said, puzzled.

“Oh yeah. I missed her first steps, her first smile, her first laugh. Majority of it, but I have a chance to be here now. So, no. I don’t miss being a nurse.” 

I felt his hands wrap around my waist pulling me into his arms as he kissed the top of my head. “Don’t forget about bodily fluids.” 

I let out a big laugh. “Yeah, that too.” After I finished up, we headed to bed.

The next day, I went over to Buck’s to drop off Alex. When we got there, Taylor opened the door. “Oh my god I almost forgot you lived here.” I remarked. (Just because Y/n doesn’t want Taylor to be cheated on doesn’t mean she likes her now.) 

“Ha! Funny.” She said leaving the door open and walking to the kitchen. “Buck, Alex is here.” Completely ignoring my presence. 

“Coming!” He called from his bathroom. He came down to greet the both of us. “Hey guys.”

“Hey dad.” Alex said as she went to put her stuff down in the back room.

“I’m leaving. Bye, honey.” She came between Buck and I and gave him a full on kiss. I’m one hundred percent sure I saw her tongue. “Y/n.” She said brushing past me.

After she left and shut the door I turned my attention back to Buck. “You okay? I thought she was going to eat your face off there.” 

“Haha. Very funny.” He said as he walked into the kitchen.

“No, I'm serious. I think that was considered attempted murder. Are you safe? You know you can tell me anything?”

“Is there something else you need or are you just here to bother me?”

“Alright, alright. I came to talk to you.”

“About?”

“A few things really. Like did you tell you know who, about you know what?”

“I told her a long time ago, remember?”

“Did you tell her who yet?” Buck looked down, which told me everything I needed to know. “Buck seriously?”

“Why do you care? I’m sure she doesn’t even care.”

“Because, my child will not be in this house of lies.” I said dramatically, looking around the house as if it was possessed. Buck shot me a glare. “No, but seriously when she finds out I don’t want my child hearing the things she’s gonna call you. It isn’t good for her childhood.”

“How about this. I worry about my relationship and you worry about yours.” 

I threw my hands up. “Excuse me for caring, and what’s so wrong with my relationship. We talked and we’re okay now.”

“Well other than the fact that you argue when the other sneezes too loud. It’s always ‘Is there a meaning behind the volume of his sneeze. What if that means he doesn’t want to be with me?’” He said bitching-ly.  

I gave him a look. “Hmm. I’m gonna leave.”

“Oh don’t be like that. I’m joking.”

I turned to playfully hit Buck square in the chest. “Me too. Gotcha.” Whenever Buck and I used to argue when we were in a relationship it always ended in two ways. Sex or teasing. Sometimes both. 

“Just like old times huh?” Buck said as he had that look on his face. “Though most of the time it ended a little differently.” He said as he stepped closer towards me. He didn’t stop until I was backed up on the counter and he was a step in front of me. Then he hit me square on my arm. “Gotcha.” He said with a shit eating grin. 

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and faked a laugh. “Very funny.” 

“Oh, guess what happened today at work.”

“What?”

“Well we were called because a groom fainted but it was for that show Speed Wedding.”

“Oh my god! I love that show. Eddie and I just finished binge watching it. So what happened?” 

“Well the groom had this condition where every organ of his body including his heart, was on the wrong side of his body. Hen had to suck blood from the canal.”

“That’s awesome. I bet that was exciting for her.”

“More like terrifying.” Just then, Alex came around the corner, Nintendo switch in hand.

“Mom, why are you still here? Dad and I are about to play smash bros.”

“I can talk to your father, you know. Don’t mind me, I’m leaving.” I grabbed my things off the counter. “Bye guys.”

Buck’s POV

I was hearing Hen talk about how Karen was missing her 20’s because she feels like she wasted them. Chimney asked everyone if they would do their 20’s over again. Bobby said no, Lucy said no, and then I decided to say something. “ I know I would.”

“Why’s that?” Lucy asked. 

“Well, I spent my 20’s traveling and trying new things.”

“Yeah and what’s wrong with that?”

“There's something wrong with that when you miss a chunk of your kid's childhood.” Hen added.

“Thanks for that, Hen.” 

“What? I’m just saying.”

“You have a kid?” Lucy asked again.

“Yeah, she turned 10 in November. When her mom and I were in college, I ended up getting kicked out because I used my tuition money on a bike I had. I decided to travel and explore. I asked her to come with me but she didn’t want to uproot her life. I didn’t know about Alex but if I did I would have stayed.”

“Wow. No offense to your ex but she should have told you about the kid before you left.”

“I mean we were young. She was freshly 18 and I was turning 20 soon. It was a tough decision. Knowing what I know now I definitely would have stayed. Probably become a firefighter sooner, invest in some cryptocurrency. Probably had gotten married and had more kids.” After I finished my sentence, I realized what I said and everyone was quiet and all eyes were aware on me.

“Buck, do you still like Y/n?” 

“What? No! I was just saying back then. I’m happy now! I have Taylor and she has Eddie.”

“Wait as in Eddie you’re best friend I’ve heard about? He’s dating your ex? Isn’t that like against bro code or something? Especially since she is the mother or your child?”

“What am I, fifteen? There is no such thing as bro code and I hadn’t seen her in years. I had already started dating Taylor when she came into my life.”

“So if you weren’t dating Taylor would you have tried to date her?” Bobby asked from the front.

“From what Athena and I heard, it wasn’t for a lack of trying.” I gave Hen a glare. “What? That’s for calling me middle-aged.”

“Hold on. You tried to date Y/n while just starting your relationship with Taylor?”

“No! I don’t know. Maybe? It’s a bit of a gray area.”

“I mean is it?” Hen said. She knew what really happened and she was about to blab. “Telling someone you still love them is pretty clear.”

“What is up with you today, blabbermouth?” Chimney asked. “I love it but like wow.”

“I’ve been holding it in for so long. It’s coming out of me like a volcano.”

“You told her you love her, buddy?” Bobby said.

“Can we just drop it. We’ve moved on.” I said hoping to end the discussion.

“Does Eddie or Taylor know about this?” Chimney asked.

“It happened before Eddie and her were together so it doesn’t matter.” Hen chimed in.

“Thanks for that Hen. Again. Can we please just move on?” Everyone just went silent. After a few moments of silence the Chimney spoke up again. 

“So was it like a regular ‘I love you’ or was it a ‘pick me, choose me, love me’ kind of I love you? If so, nice going Meredith Grey.” Everyone on the engine cracked up. I knew I wasn't living this down.

Eddie’s POV

I decided to talk to Y/n about our relationship, after I got home from work. Things have been rocky lately but I wanted her to know that I was in. I wanted to make this work. When I pulled into my driveway, I knew Y/n wasn’t here. Her car was nowhere to be found. As I walked in the house I was greeted by Carla's face instead. “Well hello there stranger.”

“Hey Carla.”

“That’s all I get, ‘hey Carla’.” She said as she mocked my tone. “I know you all boo'd up and everything but damn.”

“I’m sorry, Carla. Come here.” I said as I wrapped her in a hug.

“That’s more like it.”

“Where’s Y/n?”

“Really, boy? Can you pretend to care about what I’m saying?”

“Again, Sorry Carla. I needed to talk to her.”

“Well she’s home.”

“Why is she there?”

“Maybe that’s because she lives there. Also, I could use a check as of lately seeing as you never need me to watch Christopher anymore. She’s always here with him and Alex.”

“Yeah. I know and I’m sorry it’s just been a lot of change lately.”

“Yeah. I’ve heard.” Someone told her about the breakdown and the fights, I guess. My money’s on Buck. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” Since she was still here I decided to go for it. “Since you’re still here, could you watch Chris while I run to her house?”

“So you barely say a word to me and you want me to babysit? Boy bye.” She started to gather her things.

“I’ll pay you for the extra time. Please? It’ll be quick I swear.”

“Well. Since you put it like that. Of course.” I quickly ran out the door muttering a thank you. I drove to her house on the next block. When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed another car in the driveway. It was a Mercedes Benz. Newer model and it was nice. I had never seen it  here before. I got out of the car and used my key and unlocked the door. I heard laughing and talking. 

“Oh… hey baby.” She said as I entered the living room. Across from her was some guy. “This is John Holmes. My editor recommended him to be my ghost writer. I’ve been having a bit of trouble with my book.”

“Hey man. John, like she said.” He extended his hand for me to take it. 

“Yeah, Eddie.” I said as I ignored his hand. “It’s getting kind of late don't you think?” 

“It’s getting late?” She checked the time. “Oh my god. It is late. We got so caught up in our conversation we didn’t even notice. John let me walk you out.”

“No it’s okay. It’s still a little light out. Plus I wanted to talk to you.” She looked at me like I grew three heads.

“I’m gonna see myself out, don’t worry about it Y/n. It was good talking to you.” He said in this totally cringy suave voice. “Nice meeting you Eddie.”

“Yeah same.” I waited until I heard the door open and shut before I went to talk. “So that’s why you weren’t at the house when I got home?”

“I’m sorry? I was home, at my house.” 

“You know what I meant.” I said back.

“Yeah I know what you meant but let’s be honest it was a stupid thing to say. I had a meeting and I didn't want to disturb you at work to see if it was okay to do it at your house.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want ‘John’ over anyways.” I made sure to mock the way he said his name.

“Why are you saying his name like that?” She started to walk to her room. I followed behind her and when we reached the bedroom, she sat on the bed. I sat beside her. She stopped for a moment and looked like she was deep in thought. Then, a huge smile crossed her face. “You're jealous!” She shouted.

“What? No! Of John? Please.” 

“Oh my god! You’re so jealous you’re about to turn green.” She teased.

“No I'm not.” She continued to look at me with that shit-eating grin. “Okay maybe a little but…”

“Aha! I knew it.” She turned and straddled my lap. “I can assure you have nothing to worry about.” She gave me a passionate kiss. “Now what do you want to talk about?”

I had forgotten why I came over here. “Oh I wanted to talk to you about us.”

“Uh oh. Last time you wanted to talk about us I stormed out of the place. Can we not do that because I need to sleep here?”

“Well lucky for you it’s good news.” I said kissing her again. 

“Okay. I’m listening.” 

“So I know things between us have been a little rocky. Between the job changes, the scheduling, and the therapy. I want to thank you for being there every step of the way for me. It’s been exactly what I needed and even though I’m not there one hundred percent yet, it’s nice to know that you’re sticking around.”

“Like I told you, Diaz. You’re stuck with me.” She put her lips back on mine. The kiss started to prolong before I broke away.

“There’s something else I wanted to say. Because of that I wanted to ask you something. Christopher and I love and enjoy you and Alex’s company so much and this back and forth thing is getting a little old so… I was wondering if you wanted to move in together?” She went completely still. 

“What?”

“Would you want to move in together?” I repeated. She quickly got off my lap.

“Eddie. That’s a big step, not scratch that, it’s a huge step. I mean we’ve only been dating since December.”

“And it has felt way longer than that to me. The way I feel about you is something that has never changed through everything.”

“Eddie I get that but it’s still something to think about.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it.”

“Yeah. This isn’t the 50’s where you have no choice. Take all the time you need and if you decide you don’t want to move in together I understand.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” I stated.

“You have no idea how turned on I am by you right now.” She went back to her spot on my lap. Quickly claiming my lips. The kiss started to heat up and my shirt was off when I remembered that Carla was waiting on me. 

I quickly broke the kiss, making her pout. “I forgot Carla’s at the house waiting for me. I gotta go.”��

“Oh come on. Wouldn’t you rather stay here a little longer?” 

“Well, if we lived together this wouldn’t be a problem.” I said, teasing her. 

“Ugh. You are hereby banished. Leave.” She playfully shouted. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I said as I put my shirt back on and headed home.

Note: It seems like Eddie is ready for more but is Y/n? I mean we’ve been so focused on Eddie’s commitment issues we never focused on Y/n’s. No one stays single for nearly 10 years without having an issue with that. Also have you guys noticed a pattern in these chapters? Like a phrase or a topic? If so, comment on it. 

[miekasa]

M-mie could we get some athlete boyfriend eren hcs too if you don’t mind, please and thank you😩

He is: my boyfriend, and I love him dearly. Perfect amount of himbo and athlete without being a jock, everybody give it up for Eren for being my dream boy <3

Eren plays sports year round, with the exception of maybe one or two winter seasons, just because his school/work/home life was too busy for athletics at those times. Otherwise, he’s always go something to practice for: soccer in the fall, hockey in the winter, and his choice of baseball or basketball in the spring.

He’s not a varsity athlete; that is, he’s not “committed” to any one team, so he’s not tied to playing one sport every year, nor are his academics linked to his athletics, or vice versa. He’s just a pretty athletic guy, and he’s got a lot of energy, and he enjoys sports, so naturally he plays whenever he can.

As it turns out, it does help him with his academics. Knowing he’s got practice the majority of the week forces Eren into building a schedule that prioritizes both schoolwork and sports so he can enjoy them equally. It teaches him to be independent in a way that he wasn’t expecting, but he’s come to really love.

And because he loves it, he doesn’t mind working hard for it. Liking the way he’s set it up for himself encourages him to do his best in both areas. It’s really just good for him all around: a good outlet fo his energy, a good way to spend his time, a good way to keep his grades in check, and a good way to keep himself comfortably happy and busy.

His appetite is insatiable, so it’s only dramatized when playing sports. He takes the all you can eat in all you can eat sushi a little too seriously.

The thing is… he’s a shit cook, too, so it’s not like he’s meal prepping to make sure he’s satisfying his appetite. He just buys a shit ton of food whenever he’s hungry. He’s always asking you if you wanna grab food, and part of it is to ensure that you’re eating—not as much as him, but eating nonetheless—but part of it is that he just likes sharing meals with someone.

He also doesn’t like to eat alone, so even if you only have your ten California rolls to his forty six spicy tuna rolls, that’s fine; he just wants the company.

That’s also why even if you say you’re not hungry, he’ll drag you out to eat with him anyway. And you’ll probably get fed some of his food even if you don’t order anything and insist that you’re not hungry because, “It’s really good, baby, just try it—just one bite, it’s okay I’ve got plenty left!”

He usually keeps a few granola bars and chips and other snacks of his liking on him. But because of Eren’s nature, he keeps them on you, too: in your car, in your backpack, in your apartment/dorm. You’ll meet him after class and he’ll kinda just start walking behind you, and you realize he’s opening your backpack, and you don’t even have time to question him before he’s pulling a bar out of the smallest pocket with a smile and munching on it.

Sometimes you come home and see his little protein shakes in your fridge. You definitely didn’t put them there, but you don’t move them, either. When you stock up on more when they’re running low, Eren contemplates marrying you.

If it’s been a hard week of practice or school, he tends to get sleepy when studying (usually when studying for his least favorite class, no coincidence there). He’ll close his laptop, put his hood up, and scooch his chair closer to yours before leaning his head on your shoulder.

He gets increasingly clingier the longer he naps; hand wrapping around your waist, nose poking at your neck. He’s not so subtly trying to hint that he wants you to quit studying and take him home to cuddle instead. If you don’t get the message, expect him to shut your laptop for you.

When you protest, Eren just looks at you with pouty lips and tired eyes, “Chemistry sucks anyway. Wanna nap, and also wanted you to do that thing with your hands when you massage my back for me.” (He then promptly falls asleep mid-massage on your bed).

He’s actually got a waiver to see a physical massage therapist because of how frequently he’s exercising. On occasion, he goes, but he claims he likes your massages much better. Also because he’s hesitant about a stranger touching him and once he moaned when the guy was working on his back and Eren swears it was one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.

He doesn’t get upset if you can’t make it to every game, but he does like it when you show up. Gets all cheesy and cocky with his arm around your shoulder, going on about how, “You’re my good luck charm, baby. I play better when you’re watching, you know?”

He has so much team clothing, from sweats to hoodies to t-shirts to socks. All he asks is that you wear something on game days, even if you can’t be there to support him while he’s playing. And that you keep one or two things for yourself anyway. He’ll put them in your closet for your if you don’t take them yourself <2

Because seeing you in his hoodie is always great, but his team hoodies are extra special, because they’ve got his name and his number on them. Whenever you’re wearing one, he trails just a half step behind you so he can see JAEGER printed on your back while you walk. Something about you wearing his last name around is… enticing, to say the least.

Even if it’s not the clothes branded with his name, Eren’s got a thing for you in sweats and/or workout clothes, so he’ll toss them at you whenever you sleep over. He’s always handsy, even if you’re just wearing an Under Armour shirt with the school’s logo on it; the material of it, and knowing that it’s his just makes him want to keep his hands on you.

Truthfully, he doesn’t workout all that much outside of practice. Occasionally, he’ll go to the gym with some of his teammates if they need a buddy, or go himself to stretch or take one of the free classes, but he doesn’t have a strict schedule for it. If you go to the gym, he’ll follow you if you ask, tho.

Turns out something that he does like is yoga. He’s not particularly flexible lmfao, but the stretching helps with muscle pain and tension, and he kinda finds the whole atmosphere of it relaxing. He’s still not so great at the meditation part of it, but he’s getting there.

(Actually, it’s pretty cute because on Tuesday and Thursdays, the yoga classes at the gym on campus are open-level and beginner friendly. That’s when the majority of the athletes show up, and you see people like Eren, Jean and Connie holding tree pose in the back room).

This, of course, makes him think that couples yoga is a great idea. Let’s just say, you’re lucky that Eren is strong enough to catch you and has sharp reflexes, because he’s certainly not the most balanced partner for this activity.

Game days are fun for him, and usually even if his team loses, he’s still so pumped up on adrenaline that he’s pretty happy. He only gets moody if he thinks the other team is playing dirty, or the refs are unfair, or he’s just been in a bad mood because of something that happened in his personal life; sports are an outlet for him, not his drive in life, so losing a game doesn’t take a huge toll on him.

Usually, even if he is upset about something personal, he’s able to funnel it into his game play. Small things used to make his whole sportsmanship sour, but overtime, he’s really gotten better at using his energy to fuel the right things. However, one thing that makes him foul (emotionally and literally; as in he might foul out of a game), is if he’s been fighting with you.

Sometimes it works in his favor—using the game as outlet, like usual—but it goes south pretty quickly. Because instead of using his aggression in a productive way, he gets distracted and easily pissed off, and it’s no good for anybody, especially himself. Because if he fouls out, or the coach takes him out for doing too much, then he can’t play; and if he can’t play then all that pent up frustration has no where to go; and then he’s forced to just sit with himself and his thoughts, but usually he starts deflecting and telling everyone else to piss off. Truly a no good, very bad box he’s put himself in.

You guys don’t fight that often, and it’s rare that it drags out for an extended amount of time when you do; but as with any relationship, it can happen. And when it does happen, if Armin doesn’t get to you first, expect one of Eren’s teammates to come groveling at your feet.

Or, rather, two. Because when you and Eren were fighting for over two weeks about god knows what at this point, it was Connie and Jean who ambushed you in the library. Jean had some pride to keep, but Connie was practically begging you to make up with Eren: “Look, I know he’s probably the one who said or did something to piss you off, and I’m not saying you gotta forgive him, but please just talk to him. I can’t run anymore extra laps because of him, and it’s gonna be so embarrassing if we lose to a C-list team on Friday because Eren’s funking up everyone’s attitude. PLEASE!”

Jean is more interested in the tea between you guys, but he also wants Eren to go back to being his normal hotheaded self, and not his current moody self. “He’s been playing like a bitch baby all week, and I’m gonna knock his skull in if he doesn’t fucking get his act together,” Jean rolls his eyes, “So just show up on Friday, alright? Do it for me and Connie, at least.”

When Eren does see you in the crowd at the game, it’s not a Troy and Gabriella moment, but when he sees you he feels so much relief that he’s physically calmer and way more mentally relaxed—because at this point Eren wasn’t even mad, he was just scared you might break up with him, and that fear brought out the worst in him. Seeing you in the stands, even if you didn’t wanna speak to him, was reassurance that you still gave a damn about him, and that was motivation enough.

He rushes to you after the game, wanting to make sure you don’t get swept away or leave with your friends. He’s smiling and so happy to finally see you that he almost forgets that you’re mad with him; hugging you and grinning ear to ear. When the reality kicks in, he kinda steps back at bit and rubs at his neck, embarrassed, but at least he knows he still has a chance to make things right with you.

(When you do make up, you’re surprised to find flowers and $10 coupon for your favorite pizza place in your mailbox a few days later. They’re from Connie, and his poorly handwritten note thanks you for “saving the team” and “curbing Eren’s temper).

[aminiatureworld]

Needled Words

Characters: Childe, fm!reader

Word Count: 1,691

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: When does a joke go too far, when is a jab more than just friendly? Where does the line blur and where does it stop?

In which Childe’s teasing becomes too much for the reader

Author’s Note: For some reason this prompt made me think of Nancy Mitford, mostly because she was known also for being a slightly mean-spirited teaser. Ah Childe, my beloved. Communication in a relationship is key y’all.

Childe

You knew that Childe was only joking. After all, didn’t he read his letters to you? Brimming with little asides and jokes.

“Dear Tonia, I would say I was happy to get your letter, if only it was sopping wet. Did you leave it out in the snow again? I swear, if you were in the illustrious Tsaritsa’s army, you’d probably end up attacking your own regiment, and then I’d be forced to execute you for treason!” No one could mistake such an opening for anything except a slightly barbed bit of teasing.

Nor were the younger one’s exempt. Teucer’s antics had resulted in quite a bit of teasing. “Teucer, I think the Mr. Cyclopses have better survival instincts” and “I didn’t take you for someone who spent other people’s money!” This latter statement was made after Teucer spied the hand-crafted, very expensive, fireworks that were sold in Liyue. Of course, Childe had bought him the fireworks, and of course he never begrudged doing things for you when he teased you either. Still, you somehow felt as if things were different when directed at you.

Not that they really were. It wasn’t so much that you were picking up a different tone, it was more that, unlike Childe’s siblings and other friends, such as Zhongli, who was subjected to endless old man jokes, you couldn’t seem to take them well. When he joked about how many times you ran into the countertop you began to wonder if you truly had something wrong with your hand-eye coordination; when he said you were the laziest person, he’d ever met you wondered if you weren’t sleeping in too late; when he teased that he had to be your personal babysitter you wondered if you were truly good enough to be an adventurer. It wasn’t Childe’s fault, it really wasn’t, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

Of course, you could tell him, could finally let it all out and stop pretending that it wasn’t painful to try and keep all your emotion sunder wraps. But you couldn’t help but feel as if that would in some ways disappoint him. He was a Harbinger, tough, aloof. No words could ever hurt Childe, of that, you were sure. So how would he take it, the knowledge that his part was all too liable to shatter at every poke and prod? You couldn’t blame him if he turned out to be ashamed.

So, you kept it to yourself, smiled through all the jabs and teases. It didn’t matter, it really didn’t. You were fine! Or if you, weren’t it wasn’t worth it trying to change anything. You didn’t want to lose Childe, didn’t want to see the change when he went to say something before stopping, looking at you’re with barely concealed disappointment. Childe lived with his emotions to the forefront after all. And you wouldn’t ask him to change something you ultimately loved about him.

Thus, the days continued on, as did the teasing and the feigned smiles. Some days it was worth it, some days you were left with nothing but happiness bubbling up inside, the love that humans reserved for a very few number of friends and lovers. Yet those days were often days with minimal teasing, and you couldn’t help but notice the layer of anxiety that pressed on your love the days that were filled with Childe’s jabs. Lying in bed, limbs tangled with his, you stared up at the ceiling, wondering what you should do. You felt trapped, by your emotions, by your pride, by Childe’s words. They were all encircling you, and you could do nothing to defend yourself. You tried to keep the tears to a minimum; after all your partner slept so little already.

You didn’t know when the subtle shift happened, when it all became too much to handle. Maybe it was after Childe’s recent trip to Snezhnaya, where, surrounded by Harbingers who saw their coworkers as enemies rather than allies, he had sharpened his wit even more so than before. If his earlier teasing was unfocused, general quips, then his current ones struck quite closer to home.

“Wow my dear I didn’t peg you for a Treasure Hoarder, I don’t think that arrow could hit anyone if it tried!”

“I think you truly have the makings of someone who gets scammed by a Mondstadtian duke, or perhaps a Fontaine prince who has lost all his mora in a flood. Remind me to never go shopping with you.”

“Honestly, I think if you ran into the Electro Archon, she’d think your vision was fake. It’d be an easy way out.”

The whiplash of Childe’s proclamations of “princess” mingled with sentences that, had they been geared at anyone else, would surely be insults was shocking, and you found yourself less and less able to keep these two aspects of your partner compatible in your mind. Even less did you find the ability to simply brush it off.

You didn’t know why it was a comment about your socks that finally caused you to break. Really, it was too juvenile.

Laundry in your shared apartment was often seen as a punishment, the chore that each of you pushed onto the other. As such there was often a pile of laundry in the laundry basket, and incredibly slim pickings in your drawers. That being the case you often found yourself wearing mismatched socks. Perhaps it was a little odd, or a little childish, but it was certainly preferrable to spending all day at the river scrubbing your hands red. Who cared anyways? No one would notice such a small thing, especially once you had put your boots on.

However, nothing could get past Childe’s wicked sense of humor, and apparently your clothing choices were prime fodder for him.

“Nice socks.”

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, already having a sense of where it was going. The smirk that played across your partner’s face was full of mischief, and usually that only led to one place.

“I think that you’ll be quite the icon among toddlers all throughout Liyue. People will be asking you if you’re lost all day, or maybe they’ll ask you how it feels like to be nine.”

It was really a silly comment to get so upset over, such a small, insignificant thing to cry over. Yet there you were, standing in the kitchen, frozen in horror as your vision became fuzzy with tears. Unsure about any other course of action you buried your face in your hands and prayed Childe wouldn’t think about what you were doing.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

You could hear the panic and concern mingling in Childe’s voice. Almost immediately a warm hand was on your shoulder, and you were suddenly flooded with the presence of the person you loved so much, the person you were now crying about. You could tell Childe was saying something, was whispering soft words of comfort, but in the moment your thoughts felt all too loud. Overwhelmed by the situation you turned into your partner’s shoulder and let yourself cry.

Eventually sensing you had lost all your tears Childe drew back slightly.

“Would you like a glass of water?”

“Yes please,” you replied, voice still small. Nodding Childe moved towards the kitchen. Within a few moments he was back, glass in hand.

“Was it the teasing?” He asked as you drank. Whatever you had to say about your partner, he certainly wasn’t stupid.

“Yes,” you mumbled, nodding for affect.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I had gone too far. I promise I’ll be more careful from now on.”

“But Childe, it, it’s not just this time.”

“What do you mean?” Childe asked, voice flooding through with concern once more.

“It’s, I’m sorry, it’s just that, it’s all the time. Not all the time, every time you tease me. It’s not your fault! Of course, it’s not, it’s my fault. I don’t know, I just, it really hurts sometimes, all the time? I don’t know. I just, I’m sorry.”

Childe’s expression was one of abject horror. Taking your hand, he rubbed small circles on the top with his thumb. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how much it was affecting you. I should have been more careful.”

“But I don’t want you to feel like you have to, I don’t know, I know you tease everyone, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You aren’t making me uncomfortable.” Childe’s voice seemed just as hurried as yours. “It makes me more uncomfortable to think that you’ve been burying this the whole time. You’re damn good at hiding things you know. But this isn’t a war or something, you don’t have to hide what you’re feeling, for whatever reason. Better if you tell me, y’know?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Doesn’t look good on you, or sound good. I’d rather hear you happy.” Childe leaned in to press a soft kiss against your forehead. “I love you, okay? You mean more to me than a little bit of teasing.”

“You don’t think I’m being weak?” You managed to make out as your anxiety lessened its grip on you.

“Weak? Girlie you’re one of the strongest people I know! Weak my ass. If you wanted to rule the world you could give me a run for my money. Of course, I’d win though. I mean, I would be there right with you.”

“I know you would,” you smiled, despite yourself.

You knew that Childe probably would still retain the odd sense of humor and levity he already had. Old habits die hard and all that. Still, you had managed to say what had been haunting you all this time and, more than that, you had been assured that you were good enough, strong enough. Those few words, no matter how short, meant the world to you.

[tommyspeakycap]

again, your new john stones fic blew me away!!! Amazing. Please feel free to write about him all day every day!! <3

thank you again!! here’s another sweet one inspired by my own 1am experience tonight :) i wish I had a john stones

My hero

Your heart is quite literally thundering in your chest. There’s no feeling like it, this kind of fear that sticks you to the ground beneath your feet. You honestly feel like you can’t catch your breath, tears streaking down over your flushed cheeks as you hold your phone in your right hand with trembling fingers, one thumb finally letting go of the little microphone shaped drawing in your iMessages app. Even the whooshing sound of the message you knew was about to send to your best friend catches you off guard, making your shoulders clench and raise in fright.

“Are you seriously alright??”

She texts back, her confusion and teasing is something you know is laced into those letters across the screen creating a glow in the dim room. You roll your eyes at her, trying to keep your vision up while sending another voice note back; “No, seriously. Why does this only ever happen when I’m alone??”

“Probably because you live alone?” She replies back, and you curse yourself for a choice of friends who clearly have no empathy for what you consider to be a very serious situation. You know you won’t hear the end of this teasing once it’s all over. But the fear to you is all too real.

“(Y/n) I got your text! Came right here, are you alright?”

The sudden voice makes you literally clench your entire body, nearly shooting off the floor in fright and making one of those internalised fear noises that sounds like you just been attacked with a taser. You hear keys dropping down by the door and then a pause of his footsteps as you try to catch your breath. Your heart swells a little at the thought of him being here.

“John!” You yelp, your voice coming out something more like a strangled cry. The tall defender hears that sound and finds himself in panic, those long legs carrying him quickly and easily up the stairs of your small home until he spots you standing now in the doorway of your bedroom. He rushes towards you, seemingly checking you over for potential injuries the best he can in the darkness only broken by the lowest setting of flashlight on your phone. The first thing he notices when checking over your face with his hands is the wetness still making its way over your cheeks.

“Are you alright? what happened? Is there someone in there? Are you okay? Did someone hurt-“

You cut off his rambling with a finger over his lips, creating even more confusion for the fluffy haired brunette who had very clearly rolled himself out of bed to hurry over here. He was wearing shoes without socks, dirty shorts from training that he’d thrown off before going to bed only to pull back in to come to your, and an old sweater that usually sat somewhere downstairs in the closet closest to the door. It was obvious he had come in a wild rush the second he got your erratic message.

“It’s a wasp, John!” You whisper, as if the little creature that sitting on your lightbulb unwilling to move from the place you couldn’t reach and wouldn’t dare to even if you could, was able to hear you.

“A wasp?” John repeats incredulously. “Seriously?”

You nod vigorously, and and as much as the exhausted footballer wants to complain or even sigh at you, he doesn’t. Maybe he can’t. Because he’s got his arms around you and he definitely can feel you quivering against him. He had expected something more along the lines of a one night stand gone wrong or even someone breaking it, but as his consciousness began to catch back up with his previously very sleepy self, it made a lot more sense. In the event of a break in, you would probably have been bloody calmer than you are now to be honest. John had seen you after a pretty dangerous car crash completely still and relatively calm as you gave statements to police officers with blood still trickling down your face. But put an insect in your path and you scaled the closest thing to you for protection.

It just so happened that closest thing was often John Stones, and he was happy to be that person really.

It has become a norm between the two of you in the years you had been friends. Winter was the worst for spiders, but he generally didn’t mind the mildly irritating insects. He just got rid of them one way or another while you hid as far as you could get and then he’d come get you when the coast was clean. But you hated summer for this particular reason.

Wasps.

They fly in, fly into things and somehow never make it back on the window on their own despite it being the most easy thing one could ever imagine. Then, they try and sting you as if they aren’t in your house. They just creep you out, even the sight of them with their nasty little bodies. Bees aren’t a problem, they’re fuzzy looking and don’t intrude in your home nearly half as much. Also, they don’t try to sting you all the damn time.

“Where abouts?” He asks, his voice showing no hint of any destain or irritation he may harbour. “On the light,” you tell him shakily, following close to him back as you both enter the room. “Right up there- careful!”

John sniggers a little to himself, much to your dismay. He kicks off his shoes by your bedside table and climbs up onto the bed with ease on those ridiculously long legs. By luck, chance or both, he has some toilet paper in his hoodie pocket that he’d probably used to wipe his nose or something like that earlier, he can’t remember. He holds it out at arms length, only inches away form the unsuspecting black and yellow insect. “Where?” He asks again, “I can’t see anything.”

“There!” You insist, pointing up with a shaking finger. “I don’t see anything (y/n).” He repeats, making you whimper slightly, more tears suddenly appearing as you try to come to terms with the fact it might’ve moved while you were outside the room. The thought of having to sleep in your house while not knowing where it was would send you absolutely mental. “It was there I swear, look-“

“Ahhh, I got it. Stand back.”

He leans forward with relative ease, careful with the force he used so close to a live electric source and grips the buzzing creature in his tissue. “There we go,” he hums, stepping down from the bed. “All go-“

As if on cue, it flies out of the paper and you let loose a literal shriek as you dive backwards, crashing into the wall and then jumping forward in fright at that. “Woah!” John calls, “it’s alright, it’s right there. Calm, calm. Take a deep breath. Look,” he tries to calm you. That deep accent with his fatigue coating each word seeps into you, carefully calming your firing heart as he grabs it tighter from the floor, making sure he squashed it this time and immediately takes it to flush it down the toilet. John doesn’t know if you’re supposed to kill them or not, but at this moment in time he genuinely does not care. Was he fuck going to chase a wasp out of a window at half past one in the morning. Not a chance.

When he returns from the bathroom now empty handed, you still seem upset.

“That was scary.” You announce.

John smiles, pearly whites all on display. “I noticed.” He teases, making you scowl tiredly at him.

That scowl falters when his smile breaks into a light, soft laugh and he moves to stand in front of you. You absolutely don’t mind the fact that he’s babying you a little, using the sleeves of his sweater to wipe your cheeks before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and taking you into his strong arms. In fact, it’s very much welcomed. His arms are the safest place in the world to you and even the residual discomforted shivers from the concept of a wasp in your bedroom couldn’t get through that defender. He looks after a lot more than just the Manchester City goal line. No, he’s the sole defender of something much more precious that he doesn’t even realise.

Your heart.

“You okay now?” He asks softly, his tired voice rumbling through you. You nod against him, “Feeling a bit better. Thank you Stonesy.” You mumble, words muffled by the muscled chest that your face his resting against. “Anything for you, lovely.” He responds easily, pulling back from you in a way that aches his heart. The sudden lack of your warmth and presence against him is utterly brutal. He loves holding you, but hates it in the same breath. He would love to hold you if it was something he got to do freely instead of fleetingly.

His eyes are stuck watching you sit down on the edge of your bed to grab your phone and check the time with an element of shock rolling through your eyes when you realise it’s nearly two.

“You got training tomorrow?” You ask sweetly, a yawn following the tail end of your words adorable in a way that makes John’s heart flutter like a teenage boy. He nods, “Not till after dinner though, around 5.”

It’s your turn to nod, seeming to be chewing over something in thought as you lie down in the middle of your bed.

“Wanna stay then?”

John has to pretend to think about it at least a little bit so he doesn’t look like he’s jumping right up at the opportunity, which is exactly what he wants to do. “Why not,” he shrugs, chucking off his hoodie to the foot of your bed, “Scoot over.”

He clambers in, long limbs moving nowhere near as coordinated as they are on the pitch as he lays down by your right. It’s like a familiar dance, one you both know so well as you shuffle around so you can lay against his chest, one leg hooked over him as his arm wraps around you to pull you even closer. A silence falls between you as he feels your eyelashes fluttering shut, tickling his chest. He can’t find that same relaxation, can’t seem to shut his eyes for the thoughts flying through his mind all at once.

“I should teach you how to catch them.” John states, rumbling voice interrupting the peaceful quiet in which you had nearly found sleep. “You know, for the future.” He adds almost flippantly. Almost.

“Why?” You hum groggily, sleep croaking your voice ever so slightly. “I got you.”

John has to pretend your half asleep admission doesn’t send his heart flying into his throat. You do always have him, right there in the palm of your hand. Always.

“I don’t think other guys would appreciate me barging into their house in the middle of the night.” He suggests, making you quirk an eyebrow in question, but you still don’t look up at him and he isn’t even sure if you’ve got your eyes fully open. “No other guys here,” you state, “Single, living all alone.” You add lazily. The words almost make John wonder if he has fallen asleep, each one spoke playing straight into the dream he’s had for years for you to be his.

“Yeah, I know but…but there will be, at some point.” He suggests. You give no response for a moment and he briefly thinks you’ve fallen asleep at some point in this conversation.

“Bet those other guys wouldn’t come get rid of wasps for me in the middle of the night like you do.”

“Maybe,” John shrugs, “but I think there’s plenty of guys like that, especially for you.”

He feels you shake your head against him, your words decisive as you speak;

“There are no guys like you, John Stones.”

His words and his breath are caught on his throat, his heart erupting in his chest as he replays those words in his mind, trying to figure out if he had actually just heard them or if his tired mind was playing tricks on him because it was so late and he hadn’t had enough sleep.

But then you look up at him with tired eyes and a sweet smile. You know what you’ve just done, know the bomb you’ve just dropped and you’re hoping with everything crossed that he feels the same way.

“You’re my hero, Stonesy.” You say softly, your voice now a little sheepish and he can barely just make out the flush of your cheeks in the dim room lighting. “And I love you with everything I have.”

He doesn’t know what to say, his eyes wide as his heart beats as erratically as he had felt yours beating when he first arrived with fear coursing through his veins thinking you were in some kind of mortal peril.

“John?” You ask timidly, voice sheepish as you sit up in fear.

“Sorry,” he rumbles, pushing himself to a seated position, allowing him to lean forward and slide his hand around the back of your head to pull you into him, your lips crashing down onto his.

It’s just about everything he’s ever wanted.

“God I love you.” He says against your lips, a groan leaving his throat from pure satisfaction, pure relief of finally getting those words off of his chest. You giggle, resting back against his chest. “Can we sleep now, please?”

He nods, both of you shuffling so you can resume the position you had been in before a life changing confession that had spun you and the Barnsley brunette into the kiss that had been years in waiting. This was the happiest either of you had probably ever been.

“Guess we have the wasps to thank for this eh?” John lulls just as sleep is about to encompass you. He feels you shiver against him, the hairs on your arms immediately raising to attention at the mention of that which you hate so much.

“Don’t say that! That’s basically an invitation for them to invade my house!” You hiss, giving his chest a gentle swat as he pulls you closer to his side.

“Let them come,” he says almost triumphantly, “You got me now, always.”

You cosy yourself against him, a soft sigh of complete content and comfort tickling his chest as it dances across him. He feels that gentle smile that settles onto your gestures as your heavy eyes allow sleep to truly begin to take you.

“Always,” you mumble, words diluted by sleep “My hero.”

[midday0nightmares]

27 - pry on the weak (m).

Previous chapter in your arms (m).

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

The door was shut, it won’t open, it was cemented on every side expat for the small slit under it, you try knocking, shout for someone, anyone, but to no avail.

you try the window, it opens, but the sight is even scarier. The city is quiet, too quiet. No traffic in its usually busy streets, every window in the near buildings were closed, no birds in the sky, not a single sign of life, even the sun seems stuck in its place, time isn’t moving.

Outside the closed door, you can hear muffled sounds, you peak under the door and see the familiar white socks on a pair of feet moving around the room, it’s jaemin. you shout and scream for him, but he doesn’t even flinch, he just keeps going through his day. 

You were forgotten, lost forever in his room.

You jolt out of the claustrophobic nightmare, everything around you looks sound and in its right place, including jaemin, who’s sleeping next you, it was a nightmare.. you didn’t think that a nightmare would have the audacity to visit you while you were sleeping in his arms.

You snuggle closer to him, too close, not minding if he wakes up right now, it would be ideal if he can listen to you telling him about the rude nightmare and sho It away..  

.

.

.

He buckles under your pleads, 

“fine.. you can come too”  

The high pitched squeal you let out almost made him change his mind.

You wore a simple, body fitting black dress, a safe choice, you walked to the living room where jaemin was waiting for you, he was wearing a black suit, the black trousers making his long legs look extra inviting.

Jeno whistle from behind you when you spun to show jaemin your outfit, you roll your eyes at his ungentlemanly behavior, 

But the way jaemin’s eyes were shinning, and the compliment “you look beautiful” made your heart flutter, but the butterflies were shot dead when jeno’s hand landed on your ass in a sharp slap.

You link arms with jaemin and make the short trip to the door across the hallway to chenle apartment, the door was open, you were welcomed by upbeat classical music, not what you’ve expected.

Inside, the apartment looked like an entire house by itself, it was three times bigger than your apartment, the atmosphere was intimidating, everyone looked expensive and beautiful, there was three type of guests, men, gorgeous women, and you. 

Bite sized appetizers and trays of champion were being served along side an open bar at the corner, chandeliers were hanging off the ceiling and the big glass door opens to the terrace.

Your heart sunk and your stomach turned over inside of you. You cling to jaemin’s arm when you spot that face, haechan’s face.he approaches you and they all greeted each other, you keep looking else where, doing your best to ignore him. 

“Hey man! Long time no see.. what are you doing here? You know chenle?” Yes good question jaemin, what is he doing here?

“Yeah yeah..” He leans closer and lowers his voice “he’s one of my top clients” he gestures to the tens of girls around.. and it clicks in your head that they were all escorts, brought by haechan, they were his girls. you didn’t even try to hide the look of disgust that was showing on your face.

“Hey handsome” a tall, brunette, doll like girl throws her arms around jeno, “haven’t seen you in a while” she seamlessly pout. He giggles and turns into a harmless puppy in her hands, she must be one of haechan girls too, of course he will pay for company, who would want to spend time with him.

Your attention turns back to the hushed conversation between haechan and jaemin,

 “… no, his father is the of a one the leaders of the Chinese communist party, powerful man. and he’s the sole hire of multiple companies” haechan says.

“What is he doing here?” Jaemin asks. 

 “don’t know.. but based on what I have heard, he’s not staying for long..” haechan cuts himself as soon as he notice your interest in their conversation, “And how have you been doing sweet thing?”

oh the rage that went through you, you wished you could claw his eyes out, your distain is loud on your features. jaemin’s hand reach and hold yours, giving you a gentle squeeze, silently apologizing for breaking his promise of not having to see haechan again. 

And of course Hacehan is anything but dumb, he reads your mood and turns back to jaemin “come, I want you to meet someone” .. “haa you never stop working, don’t you?” Jaemin let go of your hand and slips deeper into the crowd, leaving you standing awkwardly next to jeno and his baby.

You stomp with no destination in mind. you look around, amazed by everything, but you feel misplaced, the looks that were thrown your way, you didn’t belong here and everyone knew it, there was an underlining screech the luxuries mood.

You catch the back of jaemin’s head through the crowd, an unsuspected punch of something was delivered to your heart, throwing your mood completely off. he’s with a group of giggly girls, practically drooling over them.  

you regret insisting on coming with him.. you should have known, but it’s too late now, you look else where and meet the sister eyes of haechan staring at you. he winks at you, you throw him the dirtiest look you have and move out of his sight line.

You pick a glass of champagne and lean against the wall, tipping the tall glass and drinking it in one go, and another.. starting to feel better. Chenle’s bright hair stands between the crowds, he gracefully moves around greeting everyone, you didn’t notice before but he’s quit charming.. he catches you staring at him and smile at you, rising his glass towards you, you fumble almost dropping your half empty glass.. when you mange to get a grip on yourself and rise your glass he had already return to his conversation. 

“Hello, mind if I join you?” The stranger man stands next to you even before you could’ve answered him, “what’s your name?” He looks like he was operating on twice the normal human energy, fidgeting and unable to stay still for more than three seconds, his smile twitches, the look in his eyes is frantic.. his pupils are blown, he’s on something. 

He speaks again before you can answer “hi Im yangyang, what’s your name?” why does his friends have wired names? 

You watch him like he was a train wreck happing in slow motion, “here try this” he hands you one of the two glass he was holding in his hands, a pink cocktail with raspberry, you smile politely and take the drink, he stares at you with his frozen smile.. but something behind you catches his attention, he kinda looks like a cat, just like that he leaves as fast as he came, he’s kinds cute.

You move to the open terrace for some fresh air, the breeze flowing through your hair, you zone out as you watch the city lights.. a hand graze the small of your back brings you back, you jump in surprise. “sorry didn’t mean to scare you” chenle apologize, placing a tall glass of champion in front of you, his round cheeks flushed, he looks breathtaking in this proximity, or maybe it’s just the alcohol in your system.. 

“To be honest sera, Im a little offended” he confess, your eyes grow double the size “offended.. why?”, 

he gives you sad puppy eyes and looks around “you don’t seems to enjoy my party”.. 

“oh no, I do. Your house is very beautiful and everything looks amazing” you try to convince him but he’s not buying it, you just give up and sigh, “im just tired” looking down to the busy streets..

He hums “tired or jealous?” Pointing at jeno who was too busy sucking that girl’s face, you roll your eyes and chenle laughs.

 “im not” you bring the glass to your lips, drinking more, a pathetic attempt to suppress whatever have been twisting your insides. 

Someone calls for him cutting your interaction short, “Alright.. well if you need anything come find me” he says before leaving you. You stay at your spot, distracting yourself with silly thoughts while the party behind you was growing wilder.

Your stomach growls, you feel sick and about to throw up.. heat rising through you, you sweat and feel lightheaded, you must have had too much to drink you are not used to it.

You stumble inside and through the crowded room, looking for the closest bathroom before it’s too late, haechan grabs your arm “sera.. are you ok?” His voice is far away although he’s standing next to you, you yanking your arm out of his hold “don’t touch me..”,

The room starts spinning, you hold the wall for support, after that it all went dark.

.

.

.

When you came back and opened your eyes, you were laid in a bed, the strong cologne filling your noise, upsetting your empty stomach. For a minute you don’t remember where you are or what had happened, the unfamiliar bedroom doesn’t ring any bills, your head is pounding, threatening to explode you move too much, you try to get up but a sharp pain shots through you, your hips feels like they were dislocated, your thighs bruised and had blood on them, your pulled up dress and torn underwear, it all indicates to one thing. 

You mange to hold yourself through the initial shock, not breaking down. With a plan to find jaemin you fix your dress to cover your exposed breast, you force yourself up, picking up your discarded heal off of the floor. You limb your way out of the room, the party has quite down, it has turned to something else.. 

everyone looked like a living zombie, you look for jaemin, you open every door on your way, you open a door to a bedroom, and you see group of men gathered over a passed out girl, watching them felt like an outside body experience, like you were rewatching yourself. They were unfazed by your presences as they continue their assult.. 

you close the door to the hellish scene, you keep looking for him but he’s nowhere to be found.

You reach the main area, being met by jeno and haechan snorting whit powder of the coffee table, surrounded by loopy girls.. jeno tries to grab you, to pull you down with them but you escape his claw like hand.

You can’t take this anymore, you were starting to crumble. you did’t feel safe anymore. you head to the door and walk out, you seek the comfort of a familiar surroundings, their apartment, a hot shower, clean clothes, your bed.. but you don’t have a key and you don’t know the passcode, you try random combinations but nothing works, the door stays closed, duff to your cries.

You break down, tears streaming your face, you give up on the door and slid to the ground, leaning against the wall you sit alone in the hallway waiting for jaemin’s return.

[keilemlucent]

pretty eyes & starshine: ii

(NSFW)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

part i   ||   part ii   ||   part iii (epilogue)

beta’ed: @shadowworks & @firein-thesky​​

word count: ~15.2k

Healing takes time, but it’s easier with someone else around who’s on the mend with you. 

(You and Keigo learn to start living again.)

warnings: codependency but make it sexc, injured reader, post-trauma symptoms, reader has abandonment issues, angst, ouchies <3

a/n: part 2 :’^) we made it!! soft hurt and very horny codependency that involves keigo’s immaculate d*ck. all that is left after this is part 3 which will be more of an epilogue :’^) 

enjoy loves <3

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

The doors to exit the hospital scare you.

How can they not?

They’re... automatic.

The glass panes are wide, sliding and slapping as folks come and go, the quiet ring of metal on metal and the slap of the plastic padding makes your heart race.

Get over it, get over it, get over it—

It’s just some doors, they’re normal.

You’ve walked through automatic doors so many times. Never before had you even taken conscious note of them. 

(But that was before you heard them let in that man who—)

Without thinking, you take a little, tentative step back from them. 

Consider you are leaving your own slice of healing hell; you are shakier and sweatier than you would’ve liked. Your clothes are like the ones... he used to wear, cheap garments obviously pulled from some industrial multipack that stank like plastic and rubbing alcohol.

You hate it.

But you didn’t have another choice. Your old articles were bloodied and disposed of long ago, and the hospital gowns you wore during your stay were far more uncomfortable than your scratchy, wide pants and crewneck long sleeve the same pale, lifeless blue as your old bed sheets. 

It would be enough.

You shift the crutch under your right arm and shuffle the backpack on your shoulders. It contains just enough to get you to the shelter, where they’d supposedly have a bed— a cot, more than likely. You had a toothbrush, some extra socks, and a prepaid card for a single, one-way train trip across the country and into the unknown.

Tears stung your eyes as you lingered by the doors.

It all feels so uncomfortably real. The world kept moving, and you’re reentering it far-more battered and perpetually bruised. 

And completely alone.

(The thought horrifies you to your core, but you try to ignore it.)

Despite the time you spent at the hospital, you were leaving without a hint of reverie. Everyone, nurses and doctors and anyone who has fucking eyes is too busy dealing with the casualties that had lasted months. 

It didn’t matter how long you stayed. You were just a body. A fucked up one too. 

You count yourself lucky to even have the backpack, as cheap and sterile as it smells.

It all unnerves you, but you didn’t have a choice. Numbness settles over you as you accept your future. 

There... is a little glimmer that he will show up.

(He won’t. Empty promises.)

(Everyone leaves.)

(Why’d you call him, anyway?)

(Because no one had spoken to you like a human in a month.)

Solitude makes people desperate and crazy.

You are a little crazy, you know. Maybe not in a bad way, but certainly in a way that is eating you up and out in ways you don’t understand. You don’t have the energy sort through it all. You just have to finally start moving forward. Or try to. 

Tentatively, you walk toward the doors, stepping out and onto the pavement. You lurch and you would’ve tripped if not for the crutch shoved under your arm. 

For the first time in a long time, you suck in fresh air and the trickling sunlight. It feels fresh, cleansing you with each little inhale as you face your cheeks to sky. You have your moment, basking before your journey.

Then someone whistles. You ignore it at first.

The person whistles again, calling out— 

“Your ride’s here, starshine!”

Your breath punches from your lungs. You whip your head to the sound. 

Though it’s overcast, you do see your morning sun.

Your steps stutter as you nearly trip over your feet.

He is standing, not far at all, leaning against a shiny black car, sleek and expensive and out of place. He’s all overgrown hair and lazy-expressions, one which stretches into a grin as he sees you.

And you see him.

(He really came?)

(Of course he did.)

Your crutch nearly clatters to the ground as you stumble toward him. The moment you waver, he’s running to catch you.

You meet each other halfway.

And without a goddamn lick of shame, the moment you near him, your arms lock around him. Your face buries into the hollow of his throw and you inhale. The scent of him, a bit spiced but mostly skin and sweat fills you. Not a hint of antiseptic. 

 And you shudder at how good it feels. 

He stabilizes the two of you, greedily wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing as if to give a much-needed greeting. 

There’s a moment of heat between you, familiar and blessed and so damned missed that you both share shuddering breaths. 

“It’s good to see you, starshine,” He soaks up any part of you he could get to. So casually, he touches like he wants to consume you.

You squeeze him just as hard.

“You came?” Your words muffled into his skin.

He simply nods, and the only confirmation you need to sink into him. Perhaps, there’s onlookers, but neither of you have the mind to care. All you care about is the shift of his muscles beneath your fingertips, the heat of him, his golden, pretty visage—

Like he had so many times, he tucks hair behind your ears and tension drains from him. 

So tenderly does he squeeze around your middle where he holds you up, “Let’s go home, starshine.”

You want nothing more.

...

The drive to your new home is long, but you don’t mind.

The world has changed in the months you’d been tucked away in the forest-hidden hospital. As disconnected as you were, you still heard of the unrest and upheaval across the country. The political clashes are marked by the... contrarian billboards lining the highway, new slogans battling each other every mile or so. 

The scenery slowly goes from flatlands, to wetlands, to rolling hills that are a lush green. From the safety of the car, you could see that the air even looked wet, and you could imagine the way it would stick in your throat and tacky the tips of your fingers. 

“Where do you live?” You finally ask, voice soft in the melancholy softness of the light mist that sprayed the car.

“In the mountains, high-up,” He squeezes your hand (the one he’s been holding the whole ride). Quietly, he adds. “I still couldn’t bear to be too close to the ground.”

He laughs, though it fades into the suddenly heavy air.

This is the world, isn’t it?

You blink, gulping at the face of your reality, and let your eyes go half-lidded as you trace the shapes of growing evergreen as your drive takes you higher and higher. 

...

Keigo had made up the guest room for you.

He doesn’t have much for extra sheets and softness, let alone decor, but he does what he can. The bed is made and pressed with clean lines, freshly washed. The curtains on the windows hang heavy, but warm up the room with their clement, tan fibers. It’s a start, with lots of space for you to add your own touches as well.

He’d spent the night prior on it, laboring, like he was preparing a nest as opposed to a simple bedroom.

(It is a nest, but he doesn’t need to accept that just yet.)

There wasn’t anything else to do for a while when he first escaped that fucking hell. He’d really given up. Keigo was uncomfortably content to rot away as he had dreamed of since he’d been burnt. The little, dusty corners of the cabin would’ve made perfect places to waste away in peace and alone. 

Except, he didn’t.

Keigo started to make the home better.

He isn’t sure if it was out of some need to just do something, and the outdated, worn cabin was his most available canvas. Part of him is convinced it’s some buried avian instinct, and without the Commission’s constant hovering, he has no reason to suppress those more animalistic urges. The need to nest somewhere cozy and safe took him over, and he had gotten to work.

The cabin is cleaned up incredibly well. New appliances, floors patched and polished. The furniture is mostly old, but it’s obviously been shined and tended to. The living area isn’t horribly large, but it’s more than enough space for the two of you. It has wide windows that looked down upon the slopes and peaks that your home is nestled in. The colors are warm oranges and tans that are easy on the eye. Nothing too red and nothing too blue.

Nothing too imposing.

(Nothing too reminiscent.)

He leads you from the car, gingerly helping you up the rickety stairs to the front door. 

The wound on your leg may be ‘healed’, but you don’t appear comfortable in the slightest. Your expression pinches with half of your steps, the bending of your scarred flesh undoubtedly painful. It makes something in his chest squeeze as he navigates you into his house, from the snow into somewhere warm. A place that he crafted all on his own. Shaped with his own hands. A real possession, all his own. 

When you enter, you don’t say anything, only tightening your grip on his hand.

“I like it,” You smile, soft and dreamy, worrying the strap of your backpack. “... Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay?”

“Of course,” Keigo assures you. Of course, it was okay for you to stay. “I’m happy to have you here, especially when the other option is one of the shelters.”

You wouldn’t have lasted a day with your bum leg and natural softness.

The thought has him gulping, the heat flaring in his chest as he tugs you closer, ghosting his lips over your temple.

With only a bit of stumbling, he shows you the rest of the home.

...

You’re quiet the rest of the day, curled up on the couch in the same clothes you left the hospital in. There’s clear exhaustion in your face, from the dark circles ringing your eyes and the tremble in your hand and leg. Keigo is content to cover you in a nice knit blanket he purchased down in the nearby town, and let you rest.

His own back burns when he catches glimpses of your scar. It ran down all the way to your ankle, even bleeding onto the top of your foot. The gnarled flesh brings back memories of screaming and metallic exam rooms.

And he, like you, stares at a wall for a while before making dinner.

 You can’t manage much.

The TV glows with some show you might’ve watched and been engrossed in it.  But the hollow feeling in your chest keeps you submerged in the static of your skull. It’s more comfortable than acknowledging how quickly the picture moves in front of you.

Your only motion is a ‘light’ scratching over the thin fabric of your pants.

‘Light’.

He enters sometime later, bearing food and an easy smile that falls all-too quickly. 

“Hey, starshine— oh fuck,” His voice clips as he enters, setting down steaming plates on the coffee table and pulling your hand from your thigh. The tips of your fingers are stained with enough blood to make your eyebrows shoot up. 

Your eyes shoot to your leg, where you’d apparently tore through the thin fabric of your pants and torn your skin up without even thinking. So close to the scar—

Heat flares between, light bouncing in your eyes as you cover the hole, “S-sorry, fuck, I didn’t even realize.”

“It’s okay, it happens,” Keigo assures you, softer than you’ve ever heard him. “Let’s clean you up quick and then eat, okay?”

You nod, exhaling a weight from your chest as the light skitters out of your eyes. 

And the heat fades from the room. The absence of it chills Keigo, and the abruptness makes his nose scrunch. 

He patches you up quickly and with a precision that screams ‘yes, I have done this far too many times.’ The wound isn’t too severe, just a nasty-looking scratch. The dried blood on your finger is wiped away. 

You both settle onto the couch, eating in silence.

Something hangs in the air, thick and unsaid. Questions and paragraphs that have been ignored up until now. Not out of will, perhaps just tired negligence. 

But, Keigo has always been the blunt type, so he finally asks one of the many facets that needs to be broached. 

“What’s your quirk?”

A little surprised sound lodges in your throat with a bite of baked fish, “My quirk? I thought you figured it out already.”

Keigo raises a feathery eyebrow, “I’m a bit slow these days, starshine.”

The nickname makes something settle pleasantly under your ribs, and the light, little orbs of yellow and orange return to your eyes. 

And heat fills the room, like it had so many times before. Like those first nights in the common room, stargazing in the lamp and starlight. It’s warmth that bleeds between his bones and tendons, through and through.

Keigo puts it all together, jaw going slack and eyes going wide.

Had he never realized it?

It does make sense, in retrospect and without a sinfully heavy dose of painkillers swimming in his veins. The heat that permeated all of the nights you sat, eyeing the stars and each other.

The odd heat of it all. 

You’d been warming the two of you. Souls cold from the sterility of it all. 

“That’s your quirk?” Keigo leans in closer, inspecting the little specks of light in your irises. The tell. “This whole time?”

“U-um, yeah,” You worry a hangnail. “I don’t mean for it to be activating all over the place, but it has been since everything happened.”

“Why’s that?”

You chew the plump of your bottom lip, brows pinched.

Without thinking, Keigo bows to the will of the ever-present, needy feeling in his chest and presses a little kiss to your forehead, willing it to smooth away some of your worry. 

I’m not upset, the action says, but the cabin is quiet.

“... You know how cats purr?”

Keigo quirks an eyebrow, “I do.”

“Well, I think it’s kind of like that,” You met his eyes, the light returning and the fire-like warmth tickling the hair on your arms. “Cats purr when they feel good, but sometimes, they purr when they’re not doing well.”

“... ‘Not doing well’?”

“If they’re in pain, or if they’re really scared,” You go quiet, tracing a seam on Keigo’s jeans. “They’ll purr to comfort themselves. It’s like that.”

Comfort themselves.

No wonder all those nights you spent together, you felt so warm. It was your quirk— 

And you must’ve felt awful. 

Part of him feels betrayed, just for a moment, before it dissolves with the watery look you wear as your injured finger traces over his knuckles. 

And the heat of you flares. 

Your quirk is a part of you.

“I didn’t think to tell you.” Your voice wobbles, yet remains vacant. “‘M sorry.”

You don’t need to apologize.

If anything, the knowledge only strengthens Keigo’s resolve. 

...

The first weeks at the house are odd as you both settle into rhythms of living. There’s an orbit to how you choose to live, though it’s not predictable or reliable. It can’t be, there’s no way for it to be. You float around each other like little planets to a fickle sun, unstable and wavering, but elliptical, nonetheless. 

You’re both learning to be human again with your own rhythms.

Keigo’s biggest challenge is dragging himself from bed each morning. The lazy bones he thought the Commission had broken and beaten out of him still remain somehow. Now that he has no obligations to tend to at the break of dawn, he thoroughly enjoys lazing about in the sheets, even if he’s just staring at his wood-paneled ceiling wishing that Dabi had finished the job and burned him dead.

He’s doing great.

Despite his sluggishness, you move about on your own. 

You make coffee each morning, and curl up on the couch under the same knit blanket. A few patches of the multi-colored throw have been pulled apart by your restless hands. 

Neither of you comment on it.

Though Keigo takes longer to rise, you move far less during the day during those first weeks. You’re tethered to the cushion until the sun goes down.

It’s like the nylon straps at the hospital never left your wrists.

Your vacant nature scares him, if he’s honest. There’s an unspoken, massive wound you carry with you, both physically and mentally, and its manifestation is a little haunting. 

Keigo knows about trauma, knows about how the mind worked and how to, you know, deal with it. He is— was, a hero, for fuck’s sake. Trauma is in the job description and he’d had his fair share of bruises before he went undercover, before he killed Jin (REALLY don’t think about it—), and lost his wings. He’s stitched himself up by filling up his schedule with anything he could. Distractions. Things to occupy him, help him forget for a while. If that didn’t work, he always had a bottle or two of imported soju that he could nurse.

Again, coping.

The state you’re in is the opposite of coping, it’s being. Existing. The strain you carry from everything shows in you, and the way that it’s manifested terrifies him.

Keigo is smart enough to know to keep a few boundaries. He can’t fix you and he can’t get it in his head that he can. He’ll smother you; he knows he will. The solace he finds comes from being there when you need him, and always being close by. 

It’s all he can do to soothe what’s obviously an open wound. He has his own, that you tend to in your own way as well when you can. It’s all give-and-take, naturally and easily. 

You’ll find yourselves on the couch together, leaning and touching so naturally, but with no intent. Your little fingers trace shapes over his clothes, hearts and lettering he can’t catch. The heat of you will cling to him, whether your quirk activates or not.

He holds you, simply and truly. Tries to be a new, kinder being. 

...

You don’t have much that is solely yours. 

You’d been living in an odd combination of Keigo’s clothes and the single outfit you arrived with. It works, enough. Most garments are worn until they’re filthy, but it takes you a little too long to notice. 

Keigo notices.

One day, he sits down with you and his heavy, black credit card and helps you pick out... whatever you wanted. The guy is loaded and will be until he dies, and he’s smitten to help you pick out whatever you need. 

You’re more challenged by the task.

“I’m fine, you don’t need to do this,” you murmur into his collarbones, narrowing your eyes at the laptop screen. “I have enough.”

Keigo clicks his tongue, rubbing the fraying fabric of your shirt, the same, cheap scratchy fabric from the hospital. Your pants are soft cotton, old ones of Keigo’s that he should probably throw away. You adore them, and spend most of your time in them, too.

“You deserve some nice things that are yours, don’t you think?” He coaxes with some extra soft touches as you glare at the screen.

Perhaps, you think to yourself. Your jaw locks.

You deliberately avoided thinking about your lack of... things. The absence of all the bits of you that you had once carried tugs at something deep in your chest. Grief, probably. Loss at the very least. Your home has been torn apart and you have nothing. Not a single remnant of then except you. And you’re hardly a good cast of the existence you once lead. 

The world feels dimmer with the thought. 

...

The house gets cold at night.

It’s inevitable, with the chill of the snowy valleys and peaks slipping through drafty windows and cracks in the woodwork. It slunk into the house once the stars rose, sinking bone deep. It’s easier to ward off during the day. The little stray touches and the ambiance of shared presence helps. 

But, you slept separately. 

It’s cold— so fucking cold in your beds. Keigo hates it. Despises the way how it makes his eyes droop and his body heavier than it should be. Despite not having wings any longer, his other avian traits lingered, and torpor was definitely not in his top three faves. He can only be thankful that he thought to invest in an electric blanket for himself, for his nest.

Though it would be a lot better with you in it, the last thing he wants to do is push you. You’re fragile. Everything is fragile. Keigo has laid awake on more than one night, trying to make sense of all of it, everything and coming to the conclusion that sleeping in his too-big, too-cold bed would have to do.

Sometimes, there’s no way to swallow the state of things.

...

“Your packages are here.”

You look up, eyes wide and sweet.

Oh, yeah. Material goods.

Clothes.

Objects.

It takes a while, but the result of your shopping spree is a small horde of packages down at the town post office, all with your name attached. The idea of so much newness is daunting, but your few remaining garments are threadbare and practically falling apart. It’s necessary, you acknowledge, even if you’re terrified of not living in Keigo’s worn crewneck. 

(Change can be good, you remind yourself. The thought is quiet.) 

Keigo stands by the door, buttoning up his coat and lacing up his boots as you watch from your soft perch on the couch. The blanket has a new, wide hole picked in it, but you don’t notice. 

“Would you like to come with me and pick them up?” Keigo flicks his gaze to you with a careful, easy smile.

You hadn’t left the house since you’d arrived. 

The thought sends your stomach knotting and sweat gathering in your palms. You jerk your head side to side, sinking back down into the cushions.

Keigo doesn’t hold it against you. You can tell by the way his expression softens around his eyes. 

He leaves after kissing you on the forehead a few times, telling you he’ll be quick to return. It’s not often that he leaves, though he’s always timely on coming back. His excursions are never more than a trip to the town market, thankfully. An hour or two feels like a lot, but the too-still air and quiet of the floorboards without Keigo’s pacing unsettles you.

Not having him near unsettles you. The thought of having him gone for too long shoots something hot and needy in your chest.

(Don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave—)

Thankfully, just like always, Keigo isn’t gone for long. And he returns bearing a few armloads of packages and some takeout curry. You take it all, and him, greedily. 

(Thank you, thank you, thank you.)

...

It’s a few days later when Keigo wakes to you knocking on his door in the early hours of the morning. 

It had been a... rougher day. You had been a bit livelier early on, joining him on the snowy patio for morning coffee and even taking a quick walk around the neighboring forest. With the snow so deep, you could only go so far though. The motion of it aggravated your injury, left your gasping and clawing at Keigo’s arm as the scar tissue pulled.

The scar is still dead, thank god, but the impact is just as present physically as it is mentally for you.

The rest of the day you spent curled up on the couch, taking little sips of water between short naps. That night, you hardly touched your dinner. Keigo was smart enough to cut up some fruit and lay it with a handful of crackers and offer it to you throughout the rest of the night. You nibbled at the bits, but hardly consumed much at all.

You went to bed early, giving him a hard hug before retiring to your lonely room.

Those days are the worse, the bad ones. They’re the ones where Keigo wants to break all the boundaries he still has. The little touches and kisses he gives you are one thing, but there’s much more he wants to do. Craves doing. But, pushing you too far or too hard would break you. He’s smart. He knows that. So, Keigo doesn’t wait. He satiates all those protective needs. 

He accepts circumstance, just as he always has. 

(He doesn’t understand how much you crave him, but that’ll come later.)

             That night, things begin to shift. 

His voice cracks with sleep as he calls for you to enter. You linger in the door frame, clutching a pillow to your chest, like a scared child who’s had a— 

“Nightmare?” He asks, sitting up and tugging a blanket with him to cover his bare chest. 

The cold air of the cabin hits his scars. He hisses under his breath, shoulders drawing tense. You must notice, eyes going a little wider as you recede from his room. The darkness of the hallway nearly dissolves you. His chest aches, hands tightening around the fabric in his fists. 

“Come back here, starshine, come on,” Keigo calls, praying you’ll heed him. “It’s alright. What’s wrong?” 

Keigo half-recognizes that that’s a very loaded question, but you’re both a bit sleep addled. Maybe it will slide. 

Your eyes alight in the pitch of the room, sputtering with little orbs of amber. Your atrophying arms squeeze the pillow, and you take a few more tentative steps closer. 

“... We’re safe, right?” 

The question surprises Keigo, enough to make his old wounds ache.

One loaded question answered for another.  

It’s reasonable to ask. It’s very reasonable to ponder. Keigo has wondered about it too. The townsfolk don’t know who he really was, and he was quite secretive about the initial move. The world hadn’t caught onto the fact that ‘Hawks’ had moved him and his new love to an isolated little cabin in the woods, and hopefully they never would. Society had a lot bigger problems, according to the over-processed news channel he tuned into on occasion. 

Keigo was old news at this point.

So many heroes had been called out for poor behavior. Scandal after scandal, coverup after coverup. Corruption, everywhere. It was an industry secret, all of the bullshit behind closed doors.  Keigo’s little double-agent schtick and you know, murder of a good man (for the love of god, do not fucking think about Jin) was still bad, but the public had a whole new slew of bullshit to torch people at the stake for.

Still. 

He’s glad no one knows about your little hideaway or you.

“We’re safe, starshine. Very safe.”’

It makes his answer easier to say, more honest. 

You inch closer from the doorway. There’s a tremble in your shoulders that runs to your hands. You’re only wearing a t-shirt and thin shorts, maybe just panties, he can’t tell. Your scar runs down your thigh and calf, gnarling and twisting the flesh it dared to mar. The seam of it is a shining black that Keigo had failed to notice before. 

It reminds him of why you’re so scared and the types of nightmares you must have. 

“... Promise?” You stop at the foot of the bed, throat bobbing with a thick gulp.

Keigo gives a sympathetic smile, patting the sheets next to him, “I promise. You’re safe. We’re safe.”

You look skeptical, but climb into bed with him all the same. 

Something stirs in Keigo’s chest as you do. As he watches you clamor over the sheets and blankets he... nests in, the heat of it fills him. A combination of yours and his own, spills through his ribs and down to his toes.

He shudders with it, something needy wriggling down from

You sit up on your knees, sinking into the mattress and holding the pillow tight to your chest. Watching, eyes still alight and wide.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Keigo asks.

You don’t, you both know that, but breaking the silence is a start.

You push the pillow against the headboard, trading it to link your fingers with his, over his chest and pressed to the linens. 

You squeeze and let out a breath you’ve been holding. There’s a weight to it, like there’s something you’re actually carrying. There has been something you have been carrying, but only you are able to see it— feel it in its actuality.

But, that doesn’t mean you have to shoulder the burden alone, especially on darkened, lonely nights. 

He tugs you closer, mindful of your tenderness and the scars you both bear. The night is only lit by starlight, and the room is dark with the new moon. It makes it easier to be closer as you settled into the bedding next to him.

It’s uncomfortable for a few moments.

Despite how much contact you share, this feels different. The little touches, kisses and caresses you trade throughout the day are second nature. Comforting someone else who so obviously needs it. His person who needs it. 

(He wonders if you think of him as your ‘person’ too.)

You lay on your side, facing away from him as you fall into his nest, still tense, still on edge and unsure. It reminds him of those first days at the hospital, when you both had lost your tongues and yourselves and just enjoyed the stars together in oddly comforting silence and broken conversation. 

It’s a process, he reminds himself. 

Keigo slides closer, throwing an arm over waist and adjusting the blankets with his other. There’s plenty, piled on top of each other without much reason. Careful hands properly tuck you into it all, next to him, with him. He brings them up to your chin, pressing stray hairs back into place and laying a trailing kiss or two over the back of your neck. 

“... Is it okay if I stay?” Your voice sounds far-off, like the question is more for yourself than for him. 

He can feel the unease and fear still bound up in your shoulders. It’s always there, whether it’s a moonless night or a snow-glitteringly, sunny day. The tension he presses his thumbs into is held in all of the muscle of your back, in your hips, your hands— everywhere.

It makes part of him ache.

A few little coos, soft little rumbles, roll from the back of his throat. 

Normally, he’d be a bit embarrassed. But at the birdish chirps, you’re falling deeper in the sheets, the nest, and against his chest. 

“Please stay,” He assures you with a squeeze. A small comfort, one he’d keep giving. 

 The odd quiet returns, sans the little sounds in his chest. 

Slowly, tentatively, you turn in his arms. Your own lock over his waist, splayed low on his spine. The pads of your fingertips brush scars, the old ones and the new. It makes him writhe a bit in his own skin. It’s unfamiliar, compared to all of the cold prodding and meaningless pleasure he was used to.

It is the closest anyone of familiarity has been to the scars in a long time, and you, preciously, grace him with the softest touch. No expectation in it, just some much-needed, shared bits of love. Once again, precious. 

And you both relax into it all. The ambient thrum of the other's body, the shared breath and smells that mingle between you. There’s little pains and stings that never really go away, but with the other so close, neither of you mind. 

It’s hard to tell when your quirk settles, and the organic heat you create together fills the rooms and your lungs. 

All Keigo knows is that he falls asleep with your lips brushing the hollow of his throat, still and warm against his chest. The feeling of the living rhythm of your body with your breath lulls him off, content and hazy. 

...

You never sleep alone after that night.

Keigo pulls you into his room, or you pad in after brushing your teeth and pulling on your soft, soft sleep clothes. The bed feels a lot less big and lonely with the two of you wrapped up in each other, fully giving in.

It puts Keigo at a remarkable amount of ease. 

The urge in his chest to ‘keep you safe’ feels the most sated at night, when he can keep as close as you both can bear. Your hands always make their home at the base of his spine, or the fat and flesh between his lower back and his rear. The pads of your fingers rub away years of stored tension and weight, quietly and kindly before you fall asleep each night. 

During the day, you’re equally as needy, though you’re slowly becoming a bit more independent. You’re more lucid in general. Though the couch and worn blanket are your greatest comforts (other than him), you’re beginning to stray and poke around the house a bit more. 

The shelves have a few more familiar comforts, things Keigo had slowly accumulated to pass the time. There’s a video game console or two he’d never used, a few stacks of books he’d heard were good, and some tucked away art supplies if inspiration struck. 

As much as he urges you to take and use whatever you’d like, you’re still tentative. The first few times you pluck a crisp book from the shelf, Keigo’s back aches with how the old muscles that once controlled his wings tried to puff-up non-existent feathers. Despite how it tugs at all the wrong parts of him, he still glows at the progress.

You start to help him with dinner too. That’s some of your favorite time. 

There’s a rhythm to it, when you both start preparing meals together. Keigo can’t season food for shit, (though, he’s made leaps and strides with cooking that pats himself on the back for) but he’s quite skilled with a knife. Remnants of his training that have domestic applications. 

He doesn’t tell you that that’s why he’s so good at dicing vegetables and paring meat, he just chatters to fill the air. You tend more to the process of cooking, seasoning and watching and nodding along to his words. 

The more meals you share in creating, the more you start to speak up.  

It’s progress, even in something so small. 

...

But progress isn’t linear. 

It’s not even a goddamn line and it’s fucking infuriating. 

...

The depth of winter bears down on the hills, the house, and the two of you. You’re coping, both of you. But the momentum of it is fragile.

It scares you, secretly and privately. 

You feel fragile, and you have for a long time. Your scar remains tender, gnarled and ugly on your leg. You avoid looking at it at all cost, though Keigo has free reign to graze tender touch nearby it. 

That’s how you find yourselves, leaning on each other on the cushion of the couch and idly watching the glow of the television. Your cheek tucks over his shoulder and you watch with half-lidded eyes. You’re only half-there as Keigo changes the channel.

He hums after a few moments. 

“There’s a storm coming tonight,” Keigo tells you, lips just a touch dry against the shell of your ear. “I’m going to go to town and—”

 Oh wow.

You interrupt, fisting the front of his shirt, “Can I come?”

The question stuns both of you.

Your eyes are honest as you peer up, genuinely unsure if you can.

“Of course, starshine,” Keigo assures. You notice the way his eyes, his pretty eyes, look wide and bright. All for you. Wow. “Let’s get you out of the house, hm?”

Getting out.

Time has stretched out and you can’t remember the last time you left for anything more than a little stroll on the backroads, Keigo on your arm. Going to town and seeing people strikes something odd that has your stomach churning. 

You’re nervous when you finally pile into the car, both bundled up with hats, mittens and scarfs (Keigo wears a mask to better hide his identity, but he’s sure some of the townies have figured him out.) The tasks are simple. Stock up for the coming storm and make sure he pays to plow their little backroad out once the storm passes. Easy, things that wouldn’t take too long, but it still makes your palms sweat. 

Keigo massages your thigh as you drive into town. The comfort of the snowy hills and evergreens disappears, and it has you in goddamn knots. 

You squeeze his hand, locking your jaw. 

“I’m scared.” You break the silence as the small structures of the town come into view. “I don’t know if this was a good idea.”

You haven’t decided again. 

He kneads his thumb into the tension in your thighs with a little smile, “Let’s give it a try.”

“It’s scary, though.”

“I know.”

You pull at a hangnail with your teeth but say nothing else as you roll in and park at the small market.

The first thing you notice is the goddamn doors. Automatic doors.

When you see them, you want to climb back into the car, maybe the trunk for fuck’s sake, and hide like you’ve never hidden before. Go home and bury yourself in a snow pile with how your heart hammers in your chest and your breath catches.

Deep breaths.

You catch yourself, just a little. 

You keep walking, Keigo’s hand in yours and you enter the market like nothing feels as wrong as it is.  

The store is small, but there’s a decent selection, all things given. Keigo places a basket in your hands, tells you to ‘go nuts’ and ‘literally get whatever you want, especially if it’s salty or sweet’ and you heed him the best you can. He busies himself talking to the clerk, organizing with that honey-voice you crave. 

You take a few deep breaths and walk around the market like a normal person. 

(Even though, the last time you were in a situation close to this, you got that nasty, cute scar on your leg.)

(You suppress the thought for as long as you can.)

The basket gets filled quickly, but you stuff it to the brim. Keigo picked out plenty of good food, and had learned how to cook decently, but having some... agency felt nice, if not fucking terrifying.

You’ve got your back turned to the entrance of the store when the (automatic) doors suddenly swish open. 

A chill so cold and hard shoots down your spine and you freeze, hovering over a box of breadcrumbs.

One...

 How long was it between that sound and when he touched you?

 Two...

 This was a terrible idea.

 Three—

 It was four—

 Four—

Four seconds, you propose, as your heart beats out of your chest and you sweat under your arms. Four seconds from the door opening to pain. 

You wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Nothing.

Just more voices from the front of the store, a figure entering your aisle and then leaving.

You hate the way you're so rigid, tense enough in your shoulders for it to hurt. The ghost of the wound on your leg makes you want to fall to the ground and writhe, but you grab the box of breadcrumbs and try not to think. 

It works, and you land next to Keigo, presenting your filled basket to be rung up. 

You bury your face into his shoulder and take a deep inhale. Keigo keeps you close, tucked in your side with an arm around your waist. Your anxiety must’ve been quite visible, as he takes to quietly rubbing your shoulders over your sweater.

Things get hazy as you feel safer. Keigo laughs and sways the two of you as he speaks to the clerk. 

(Her sons are going to blow your little house out when the storm passes. The family cat recently got out and came back pregnant. Her husband has been reading some odd literature he found on the internet. Something about ‘the strong triumphant over the weak’. Her daughter might be able to return from her foreign university now that the travel restrictions had been lifted.)

Everything moves forward, even if it’s unpleasant.

It’s an awful reminder at an inopportune time. 

You watch your feet as you crunch your way back to the shotgun side of the car, only relaxing when you hear the doors lock and the engine thrum.

...

The storm comes, just as the faces on TV said it would.

You’re in the country, in the hills and mountains where the weather is already turbulent and changeable. All the same, the overcast skies dump snow over the land and blanket the world in quiet and cold.

Snow silence sucks the sounds from the air, sans the howl of angry wind. 

You’re tucked away and safe. It’s Keigo’s only solace.

After going into town, you keep more to yourself as the storm takes it sweet time rolling in. He recognizes the far off look in your eyes; it’s the one you wore stargazing, but there’s no kind smile on your face. Just a thoughtless frown as you go through the motions of your day.

It makes his chest ache.

(Part of him regrets bringing you with him to the market. It rots part of him, and he can only hope it sprouts again.) 

Finally, when the storm truly comes and the hills get heavy and crisp white, a bit more of you returns. Keigo wants to take the fragments you’re willing to give him and tuck them close, horde them and squeeze. The way he’s gotten abashedly greedy for you has him handsier and needier. 

He’ll take what he can get, and give what he can too.

It’s easiest to bear at night, probably out of habit. Maybe the time in the hospital fucked both of you up (yes, for sure, it did), but nighttime was the time where you were open and easy with each other.

The storm gives the perfect opportunity to all of your time shamelessly twisted together, only leaving for brief coffee breaks and light meals. Otherwise, you’re both nested. 

Pillows and blankets piled on the oversized mattress, all soft against your scars and old scratches. Keigo’s still fond of the color red, he can’t let that go, but he trades in the scarlet that was once his ‘brand’ for a deeper burgundy. All the sensations are rich and velvety, whether it’s the bedclothes you’re wrapped in or the touches you share.

It feels safe.

The feeling is something almost foreign to Keigo. He’s been getting used to it, even as the isolation weighs down on him. No one around means no reason to be so alert. The house isn’t bugged, there’s no villains or Suits watching his every move. He’s just a flightless bird, with no cage, but no captors either.

It feels amazing.

It feels even better that you’re always the heat against his side. That you and your perfect, sweet hands always know how and where to touch. Your words flow easier when you’re so close, so surrounded and so deliciously suffocated.

Keigo fills you up in all the best ways, and you’re finally able to breathe easier.

You tell him your secrets, little stargazing facts and facets of you that you’d held away and far from him before.

“Do you know what cosmic microwave background radiation is?” You ask, sweet as your lips nip at his jaw.

“No, not a clue,” He laughs, the giggle only you get to hear. 

You hum, shifting your thighs so it lies over his. Your hips grind, slow and unhurried as wind rattles the windows.

“It’s this ambient radiation that’s just everywhere, all the time, forever,” You tell him, voice going a little huskier despite the fact you’re talking about theoretical astrophysics. “It’s left over from the Big Bang. A little bit of the beginning that never stops.”

“And how do you know all this?” 

“A documentary, love.”

The questions fade as your lips slide together, lazy hands sliding into each other's hairs. You pull, only lightly, just to bring him closer. Keigo gets greedy, (again, always), licking into your mouth and tasting you. It’s all cheap coffee and the stale mint of toothpaste, and he drinks you down like the finest nectar. He sucks on your tongue, moaning at the way you keen and shift next to him.

It’s not enough. It never is, so he rolls to sit himself over your hips and grab your jaw in a tight grip. He can’t be too forceful, he can’t— his little birdbrain won’t let him do anything too rough to you, even if neither of you would mind it. He tilts your head just right.

You roll your hips up, breath mingling with his as it hitches and shudders from you. It’s so much, so much good, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. 

Keigo pulls away, eyes half-lidded to take in your own blown pupils. It makes something purr in his chest, to see your eyes already glassy and wide for him. Your neck is thoroughly covered in darkened splotches, already sucked and bitten while the storm sang. 

Little marks of him.

“You’re all mine, you know?” Keigo nearly moans at the way your expression goes gooey and sweetened. He tightens his grip on your jaw just a fraction, enough to make you gasp before he licks and nips below your ear. Just to make sure you hear him. “‘Everywhere, all the time, forever’, I’ve got you.”

“Y-you do,” you gasp as Keigo shifts your sleep shorts off, pushed away forgotten in the nest. The thin tank top you’re wearing is hardly covering anything, not that either of you care. The nearly-sheer fabric of it stretches over your collars and curves beautifully. It does nothing to hide the way your breaths heave or the sweat and heat gathering on your neck.

You’re bared to him.

And if Keigo’s being honest?

You own each other, in the most pleasantly fucked up way.

“Y-You’re so good,” The word holds weight, so much heaviness. Keigo groans, palming one of your breasts and rolling one of your nipples. It’s ambient, something to occupy himself as he resists your words. Just a little—

Your hand slips into the front of his sweats, bare beneath, and wraps around the velvet of him. Thick and hot, firm in your hand but not close enough.

You squeeze, almost in warning.

“You are good.” You gasp as Keigo pulls off you, leveling gazes with you, all pretty eyes reflecting the starshine and snow. He is good. There’s so much more to it than that, but your poor, fucked up little mind can’t synthesis it yet. Only that Keigo is good, warm, safe, and wholly yours. And you’re his. You stretch to ghost a kiss over his lips. “My good boy, always keeping me safe. You keep me so well.”

He stills, even as you slowly pump in his cock. It twitches in your hand, your thighs squeezing between his hips. 

Keigo’s mind races, in the best way.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” He murmurs, head tilting and body sagging to drink down your kiss-bruised lips. More, more, more— “You just need to be taken care of.”

“I don’t need to,” You lie, huffing. 

Keigo raises an eyebrow, biting his lips as your grip floats down to his balls, massaging them in your soft grip. It’s tender, weirdly vulnerable, as the whole of you two are.

“Maybe you don’t need to, you’re very capable,” Maybe not right now, but he knows it’s in there. “But you want it.”

“I-I like it,” You scramble the wording, shoving down his sweats, huffing again and urging Keigo to kick them away. Your palm goes to his cheek and drags him closer. “I like you a lot, love you, you know. You make me feel... safe. It’s a good feeling.”

It’s the most honest you’ve been in a long time, and it sits in the air. Keigo remains silent for a moment, silent and trying to control the way his birdbrain wants to take you. Wants to fuck you up and ruin you for anyone else.

You’re his, aren’t you?

“Good girl,” Keigo breaks the tension, squeezing your hips to the point of bruises. His, his, his. “I keep you so good, don’t I?”

You nod, spitting out little affirmatives between kisses. They dot his cheeks and forehead, slipping to his nose and downward. You pull his bottom lip into his mouth, letting out a little half-sob as Keigo’s touch drifts to your cunt, to your clit that’s swollen and untouched. 

More, more, more—

“You keep me so good,” You gulp, whining and grinding into the heel of his hand. Slick coats your sex, sticky and hot. “So, so good—”

Keigo drops down the bed, ignoring the flare of his scar tissue, to seat himself between your thighs. They get thrown over his shoulders with a squeeze. His hands cup your ass, slipping a pillow beneath your hips before eating your cunt like he’d die if he didn’t.

It’s one of his favorite things. Stuffing you full of him until your belly swells is another, or seeing the way his cock opens and stretches you until you’re gasping for breath and begging for more, more, more—

Keigo slips a finger into you without resistance. He curls it, unyielding as he massages the little knot of nerves in you that makes you arch and beg for more, for him.

You choke on a sob when he adds another finger, and he hushes you so sweet, tears prick your eyes. 

“Starshine,” He coaxes, withdrawing only to give your clit, a few kitten licks and slow kisses. His gaze flickers towards yours, holding your wet eyes. “Doesn’t it feel good?”

You nod, the meat of your thighs squeezing around him. Keigo would be happy to die like this, you soft and opened for him, crying for him. Broken and cracking for him, by his tongue, by his touch, Him. His.

“Who takes care of you?” He curls his fingers, and you throw your head back into the nest of pillows. 

“Y-You,” Your voice breaks and you rub at your cheeks. 

“Who knows just how to keep you so well? How to make you feel so good?”

He presses a third finger in, tending to your clit as you cry above him. You’re molten around him, and he laps you up until the smell and taste of you is all he comprehends. 

This is what you both need, isn’t it?

Each other. All of each other.

Your cries turn sour quickly, and it has Keigo jolting up, fingers withdrawn and leaving you to feel empty. The little sobs turned into hiccupping cries, one's stifled with the back of your hand. 

Keigo rises over you, tugging you hand away to get at your cheeks, kissing them soft and sweet. 

It isn’t often that you cry, surprisingly. You probably should more often. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Keigo urges. Please, please, just tell him what the fuck is wrong. He knows, you know, the meat of it all. But please tell him something he can tend to. Something he can stitch up because god, he needs to be useful— “What’s making your cry sweetheart? Tell me.”

You paw at your forehead, “It’s silly.” 

You sniffle and look at him with the most unguarded expression he’s seen you worn. The vacancy is gone, the hollowness and pain has been pulled away in the safety of that perfect nest and all that’s left is—

“‘M scared,” You mumble. Your arms curl over your chest, covering what’s primitively most precious to you. “I’m scared.”

Your eyes grow bright and heat, hotter than anything he’s felt from you, explodes over the room.

He’s half-choking and he fucking loves it. 

Something in his chest snaps and he worries your hair, bringing his nose to yours, nuzzling and nudging your hands away. He nips you. His poor little birdbrain.

“I’m afraid you’re going to leave.”

Keigo stills.

He sits with your fear for a few beats.

“I’d never leave,” He says easily, truthfully and fully. He couldn’t.

Those long nights in the hospital and the warmth passed between you had so easily gotten you wormed his chest, right next to his second and third rib. He can feel it, always; you’re ever present. He grabs your arms and holds them to yours sides. You’re exposed, soft flesh and squirming a bit beneath him. He wants to mark you purple and near-bloody, so that no one would think of you as anything other than his.

His, his, his.

He shows you.

Worn hands, a bit chapped with the dry air, pull your high to rest on his shoulders. He massages your calves, kissing your ankles.

“I mean this real lovingly, starshine,” He breaths deep, fisting his cock with a few slow strokes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You don’t get a chance to protest as he slides into you in one stroke. The stretch of him has you burning; he can tell by the way your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging into his shoulders as your little cries only get harder.

“Bear it, I know you can,” You had before, and you would many times more. The stretch feels amazing, even if it burns something in your core. You like it, how the pain pricks something that shoots into your toes. Only Keigo gets to fuck you up, gets to own you. “You’re always good f-for me— f-fuck, so fucking good—”

His, his, his.

There is, of course, the inverse.

You grab his jaw, your grip tight like his was earlier, and you meet his gaze. You blink away tears, sniffling, but expression set with determination.

“You’re mine too,” You squeeze around him, grinding down to the root of his cock. “‘M only good for you because you’re mine too, Keigo. All of you.”

Without thought, your hands ghost over his scars.

You have avoided them for so long. It was an untouched spot, something tender and from a time where Keigo was being that was entirely and wholly different from who he is now. It’s a piece of him that’s always been off-limits.

But you’re both so cracked open, you do it without thought.

And something in Keigo snaps.

He pushes you down by the backs of your thighs, folding your legs to your torso. And he fucks you.

His hips slam against yours, opening you up with pants and groans. You feel full, full of him in every and all ways, everywhere, always, and forever. 

You’re greedy with your touches, tugging him closer and uncaring of the way your nails scrap over his shoulders and arms. His body is yours and you’re his. It’s disgusting, it’s fucked up and perfect the way you slot together. It’s like little, scared pieces of existence slide together, and everything feels whole, yet open and uncracked.

Keigo fills you up with a sob, tears dripping down his cheeks as you pressed down on the burns and scars that rack down his back.

“Fill me up,” You demand, the heat of you swelling as his hand dips to your clit, circling and rolling with the little pleas falling from both your lips.

The world drips as his thrusts go harder, sloppier as you tip your head back and scream. Your voice breaks, hoarse from all your pleading and possession. 

Keigo stuffs you, tip of his cock pressed to the deepest parts of you. His cum, all him, leaks from around his cock as he gives a few more weakened grinds. He makes sure you’re full, content and sated and his.

He falls over you, coating your cheeks in kisses and praise. You sputter little sobs for him, begging for him to be closer, despite the way he still fills you even as he softens.

It never feels like enough, the closeness. But you’ll settle for all of him that you can get. 

...

The storm passes, and you spend your time much the same way. Fucking, feeling, and for a little, blessed while, forgetting.

Eventually, the snow stops falling. The wind that has been whipping the power into tree trucks and your windows falls still. It’s peaceful, then. Not that it wasn’t before, but without the weather bearing down on you, you’re both less hungry. Still greedy, just not starved.

You share the first morning after the storm outside, on the porch. Keigo had shoveled a little clear patch and you’d brushed off the two, brittle lawn chairs that had seen better days. You fixate on the task a bit too much, the steaming coffee you’re to share is forgotten. The straining plastic of the chairs is a yellowed-white and bright red. It felt strong enough under your fingers, cold fingers, as you cleared away the snow. 

It feels like a remnant

Whatever fixation you have on the object passes as Keigo runs a hand up your spine. His hand is wide and warm, still a bit warm from the toasty mugs.

You rearrange your chairs and yourselves to be close as can be, in your little patch of snowless porch, and sip at your coffee as the world begins to wake up. 

...

Oddly enough, the storm helps you make forward progress, at least a little. You take up making breakfasts on your own, occasionally carrying plates into the bedroom with a big, previously unseen grin

Keigo returns the smile so big, his cheeks burn for hours. 

You take to a few of the little crafts and things Keigo has been hoarding. Paper folding and little canvases with acrylic painting are your favorites. Sometimes, you paint your little strokes and press creases from the comfort of the couch. Other times, you make you place for the day at the kitchen island while Keigo makes his day-long meals. 

There’s a rhythm to it that’s so good.

It’s progress, and seeing it visibly start to the fill the walls feels good for both of you. Your little canvases get hung around the cabin, little portraits of the stars and their mother, all for you and Keigo to admire. ;;

 ...

             He gets the call exactly three weeks after the storm passes. 

Keigo awakes before you to the shrill ring of his cell. It vibrates against the bedside table, loud enough to wake the both of you. You both startle out of sleep, squeezing each other. 

He takes the call in the other room, after he sees the contact name.

[Suits] Calling...

 He paces as he listens to her drone on.

There’s no greeting, no “hey, how does it feel to be a flightless fucking failure?”. It’s business. Just business. It’s always been like that with her, and the lot of suits that treated him like a fixture until he got particularly cracked and unsightly.

“So, you come into Tokyo, we’ll do a small event—”

“The event you’re describing really doesn’t sound small,” Keigo tilts his head and gives an angry smile to his own reflection in the mirror. “It sounds like a circus that I really have no interest in being a part of.”

“It’s for the people, Hawks—”

It makes him snap.

“Stop fucking calling me that.” He growls into the receiver, grip tight enough to hurt. “Stop calling me, stop asking me, I am not coming back.”

The woman is silent on the line for a beat, before spitting, “What if I didn’t give you a choice?”

His blood runs cold before burning in his veins. And he laughs.

“You think you could?” He only feels a little hysterical. “You don’t have any power, not over me, not over anyone else as far as I’ve seen, Madam President!” 

“Hawks—”

Shut up, shut up, shut UP.

“The Commission is dead, the world is in chaos, and putting the corpse of a hero on the big screen isn’t going to convince anyone that this is all fixable,” Keigo chest gets tight, and he can’t tell if it’s from the uncomfortable laughter he’s spitting or the sobs that are locked in his chest. 

“So, you’d rather turn your back on the people you swore to protect?” Suits speaks with no emotion, not an ounce of feeling. “Selfish.”

Selfish, selfish, selfish. The word echoes in his mind, worms its way down his throat and suffocates him. 

“You’re really going to say that to me? Of all fucking people?” He feels his nails break skin where he’d been clenching his fist. “Me, selfish?”

“You left, didn’t you? Ran away?” The woman has the stones to fucking laugh. “Everyone’s lost something. You’re not special, and it doesn’t justify—”

“What the fuck are you getting out of this?” Keigo interrupts, burning, burning— “Did you call me to go to this little gala or did you call to dig into your perfect little hero? You told me I could be done. Should’ve known you were lying, you always lie—”

“You’re being childish.”

“Oh my GOD!” Keigo nearly screams and doesn’t notice how you’ve tip-toed from the bedroom. “Do you hear yourself?”

“I hear you screaming at me, the woman who practically raised you, like some petulant brat. Get a grip, Hawks.” 

He snaps.

“STOP FUCKING CALLING ME THAT!” He screams into the phone, vision going white and scarlet. “I am not Hawks! Hawks is DEAD! Why can’t you understand that? There’s no fucking hero to attend your little ‘healing’ gala, there’s just me. ‘Childish’, ‘selfish’, and wingless, babe. That’s what I’ve got, and this is what I am.”

Suits takes an audible sigh, and Keigo can almost see how she’s shaking her head at him, “You’re being ridiculous, Hawks. Take at least a goddamn ounce of responsibility for your actions that helped cause all... this.”

Ah, there it is. The thing Hawks has so properly compartmentalized, tucked so far back in his psyche that it’s almost impossible to reach.

How much of the dissolution of... everything is on him?

Something in him snaps, and it slips through his own fingers. 

  “I’m not going and this, Madam President? This is for me.”

Selfish, selfish, selfish.

He hears her unspoken words echoing in his skull as he hangs up, slamming the phone on the countertop.

Something hotter than rage and more poisonous than pain fills his blood, and it makes him want to both wretch and break his fingers in the same breath. He slams a fist onto the phone, cracking it against the countertop. He can buy a new one— 

“S-Sweetpea?”

Keigo freezes.

You’re at the mouth of the hallway, hardly out of the shadows, eyes wide and fearful. His chest somehow gets even tighter. 

Normally, he would’ve rushed to comfort you, calmed himself down to console you for seeing his little outburst.

But he doesn’t that day.

He breaths ragged with his lips slowly curling, panic’s ugly cousin turning his spit acrid behind his teeth.

“Here, let’s go back to bed, okay? We can—” You take a few steps closer, hand outstretched and eyes beginning to light.

Oh, and Keigo’s hit by fucking envy, and it’s over. 

“Don’t.” 

You freeze, “Pretty eyes—”

“Don’t, just don’t.”

You don’t move as Keigo trudges to the door, throws on his thick parka and snow boots, pocketing his keys and grumbles to you that there’s leftovers in the fridge.

It’s shitty and selfish.

And he just doesn’t care.

He can’t make himself care as the door slams shut behind him, the sound echoing off the trees and so quickly dampened by the snow. 

...

Keigo drives, white noise in his ear that echoes the wind in the treetops of the mountains he’s descending. He’s only half there as he leaves town. 

It’s still too much. 

...

You, on the other hand? 

You’re frozen, stuck-still, as you watch Keigo climb into the car and drive off. Maybe your mouth has gone a bit agape, you aren’t aware of your body. 

You panic. 

There’s no other word for it, not that you were able to think of as you were untrenched in it. 

There’s something thick and knotted that is rolling unraveling in your chest. The... thing is worse than a feeling and runs deeper and hotter than you can manage.

You tried to manage it.

While Keigo is god fucking knows where, you paced the house, always within eyeshot of a window. Hoping for a glimpse of his dark parka, or the tufts of his blonde sticking out in the snow, a return—

Fucking nothing.

He just left.

No return time, no destination, just a departure with no explanation. He’d obviously left the cabin before, you’d handled those times quite well, but he’d never stormed out. Never raised his voice and screamed and then just left. 

Is he okay? 

(You heard most of the call, at least his side of it. Is that awful Hero Commission he told you about calling him back? Or even worse, dragging him away.)

(He’d tell you, wouldn’t he?)

(Guess you’ll never know! Because he’s fucking gone.)

It made something seize in your chest, hot and awful as you walked your circuit, praying. Worry is damning. 

How could he just... leave?

You need him back.

You alone without him.

Your thoughts rot you, despite the winter’s cold outside. The chill of the cabin seeps into your bones, coats them and leaves you sticky and downright paranoid. The lack of... presence (his presence) was driving you up a wall. The air is too still, the floors quiet and without the telltale old creaks of movement that you’ve become accustomed to, and the cabin is silent other than your breathing and rabbit’s heart.

Beneath the anger was a thick layer of fear. 

You are alone.

The feeling rolled its way into you as the sun began to dip lower in the sky.

What if he never comes back?

Of course he is, you remind yourself, hurriedly, worrying the scary on your leg and picking at the core of it. He wouldn’t leave.

Why wouldn’t he?

The thought gets your poor little heart racing faster, air choking in your lungs. Your head whips to the window to see the empty, snowy driveway.

“I-I’m alone,” You break the silence of the house, the walls answering with their pensive quiet and the wind shaking the fresh snow from thin branches just outside.

All alone.

All fucked up and broken and fucking alone.

“He wouldn’t leave,” You start talking to yourself, threading a hand in your hair, gripping. “He cares, he wouldn’t just leave.”

He cared about being a hero too and he left everyone else.

What if things changed? 

Insecurities, new ones and old ones, cloud your mind and vision and stuffed your lungs. The grip on your hair goes tighter. 

All alone in the mountains.

All.

Alone.

It scares you more than anything, how much you need him.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you tug at the roots of your hair. It hurts, but everything is starting to hurt very quickly, and a bit of hair pulling is child’s play to how it feels like your chest is being hollowed out.

You really have so little. It stuns you in the moment as you choke back a sob. The little house in the mountains, Keigo, and the starlight you still both enjoy— that’s fucking it. You’d never returned to your ‘apartment’, or rather the remnants of it. Any possessions you had were lost to destruction and unsalvageable. Your meager relationships and friendships had fallen away when you were bound to hospital for months.

He’s all you have.

“No, no, no,” You nearly trip in your pacing, dragging your feet as you accept your reality. “He can’t l-leave.”

The world responds with silence. The mountains are cold and lonely, just like you are. It’s cruel, it all hurts and after being in a daze so often, the reality of your situation hurts like a hot brand.

He’ll come back.

He cares.

You desperately try to convince yourself as you tug your parka on, throwing on your boots. You don’t bother to fasten or tie anything, you just stumble onto the deck blindly and scan the hill of the drive.

Not a single soul.

Something rotten curls up behind your teeth. Bile climbs the back of your throat and you have to swallow to keep from vomiting. Your chest is too tight, the world is too bright, and you’re terrified.

You’re not sure what to call the type of panic response you have; it doesn’t make any logical sense. Your heart runs in your chest, your breath is hot and tight, and you simply slip to the ground in the fresh snow.

And you wait.

...

Keigo drives until he’s nearly out of town, into some flatlands near the river that gurgles and churns nearby. The surrounding forest is the perfect place for a pensive walk. 

It’s the best place for him to just get it out.

It had been a long time since Keigo had just talked to himself. Audibly sorts himself as he walks along the bank of the almost-frozen river. He doesn’t keep his voice quiet, no, its full volume complaining. It’s anger that’s bundled up in his chest that’s finally being lit and the smoke of it nearly chokes him out. 

It’s not fair.

He does feel a bit childish, thinking about it like that. But hadn’t he done enough? Hadn’t they told him that he’d done enough? He lost it all and was just starting to the plant the seeds for a new life to sprout. Couldn’t he just have that? He’s not the shiny thing he used to be he’s fucking worthless. And that’s fine. He’s made peace with it and can find worth outside of saving people.

He’s capable. Adaptable. And he’s doing it all at his trademark speed.

But the thing that makes his gut twist is facing everything he (ran away from) left behind. The only short statement he’d given after Dabi’s video was nearly as viral as the actual video of him killing Jin (don’t think about it, don’t think about it—) 

He’s not sure what possesses him to pull out his phone and pull up the video. It’s not hard to find. 

It hurts to watch, but he does it anyway. Fucking masochist. 

He’s standing beside Enji and Tsunagu, all of them in hastily tailored suits. They all had their visible injuries. Scars and brands that had just been carved and burned into skin. They look haggard, they look beaten. 

Because they were.

Keigo watches as he adjusts his microphone in the video and gives his statement. Stupidly simple and vague, all at the same time.

“The villain Dabi did not lie. I am the son of Takami, and I killed Twice of the League of Villains. It was all necessary. Please accept my apology for the upset I have caused.”

His voice doesn’t even sound like him. It’s manufactured and broken. He remembers how the smoke had charred his throat and lungs for the first few days, before he was transferred from Central to the big facility in the tall-tree-ed forest. 

He bows on the video and Enji begins his statement. Something solemn about the suffering he’s caused his family, how he wants to atone and how he is atoning. The public was too angry to listen and is too angry to listen. And the world Keigo ran from is the result. 

He lets himself cry.

Finally.

His shoulders shake as he hunches over himself. The tears slip down his chilled cheeks and make little divots where they fall into the snow beneath him. His little gasps turn into sobs, the kind that hurt your chest and give you a headache that lasts for days.

He repeats a little mantra between scratchy breaths—

“I’m still good.”

“I’m still good.”

“I’m still good.”

He falls against the thick bark of a tree and slides down to the ground. 

He let’s go.

It’s good for him, cleansing. Maybe it’s the rushing of the nearby river or the snow he's buried his hands in, but with each ragged breath he can feel some of that filth that’s clinging to him fall away. Not all of it, not by a long shot. 

But feeling the worst is the first step to feeling your best. 

So, when Keigo’s ready, he stands and moves forward. Trudges onward, albeit a bit slower. 

...

Keigo returns home just as the sky begins to change from red to indigo with the night. It paints the pines and evergreens an eerie, dark color, shadows long and deep against the fluffy snow.

His gut twists in knots as he gets closer to home. 

He’s tired. Exhausted. His eyes are still puffy from his tears, sore and aching. His body still feels tight, tense in his shoulders and arms as he grips the steering wheel. He needs rest. A good cup of tea and maybe a beer later. 

And you.

As weak as Keigo feels, he knows he fucked up... just a bit. 

It wasn’t fair to storm out. He isn’t dumb. All the same, if he stayed with you in the cabin, he probably would’ve said something he regretted. Or locked himself in the bedroom all day. It wouldn’t have been good or fair for you or him. 

(Coward.)

Probably, but he was also burned alive fairly recently, so he had to give himself a bit of credit. 

As he nears, his stomach drops. 

You’re on the porch. You sit on the steps, parka pooling around your waist as your head rests on your knees.

Something’s not right.

Some of his old, honed senses trill to life, seeing you. Something in his gut twists, the muscles in his back tense, the old ones that controlled his wings. 

You must be cold. 

Keigo leaves the car and slaps on a smile, “Waiting for me, starshine?” 

You twitch, curling over your body harder. 

Something is very wrong— 

He calls your name, your actual name, and you hardly stir. You all but twitch from where you sit, head tilting up just the slightest bit.  It’s not enough to ease any of the worry pulling his old muscles, if anything, it makes it worse.

He falls to his knees in front of you, ignoring the crack his bones make.

“How long have you been out here?” Too long, he knows the answer, but he still has to ask.

“... A while,” You murmur, barely audible. “You’re back.”

“I am,“ Keigo pushes you up by your shoulders, scanning your face as more fear curls in his gut. 

Your eyes are glassy and unfocused.

“We need to get you inside, now,” He isn’t sure if he sounds scared or angry (probably both), and he can’t make himself care. 

You’re freezing.

Too cold, way too cold.

Keigo had to take plenty of survival courses during his training with the Commission and he had learned plenty about hypothermia. His avian anatomy made him more susceptible to the cold and knowing the symptoms for himself kept him from turning into a bird-adjacent popsicle more than once. He’d rescued his handful of civilians—

(Don’t think about being a hero right now or you’re gonna start crying again.)

You’re not some civilian, you’re you and you’re in front of him with darkened lips and dull eyes and full panic breaks his ribs.

...

You remember how pretty red the sky was.

You like sunsets. 

You should see if Keigo wants to watch the sunset sometime.

Keigo’s gone.

You could drive—

Keigo drove away. You’re alone.

You aren’t sure how long you sat in the chill, but it was comforting despite how your fingers and toes began to ache. Outside, there were plenty of sounds and sights to keep you company. The wind whistled through trees, and the sky echoed a few, far-off sounds from distant civilization. 

It was nice. Peaceful, at the very least.

...

“Inside, you need to be inside,” Keigo sputters, pulling you up under your arms. Your feet drag for a moment before going flat, and you sway in his arms. 

Getting you inside makes his body ache in new ways, your weight mostly on his side. Old pains crawled to the surface as he dragged you to the couch, setting you down on the cushion and assessing you better.

His hands run over your body, over curves and divots he knew and loved and the chill of you filled him with dread.

“Your pants are wet from the snow,” Keigo swallows, rising. “I’m going to grab you dry clothes.”

As soon as he tries to move away, you catch his wrist in a weak grip.

And finally, half-lucidly, you regard him with terror in your eyes.

“You l-left,” You spit, lips curling over your teeth. “You left, Keigo.”

You use his real name and he really wants to die a little. 

Sure, Suits used it on the phone with him and it made him see blood fucking red, but it’s you, and you saying the name he never really had, for the first time, so fucking angrily makes part of his secretly fragile heart break.

He freezes, breathing hard through his nose as he looks down at you.

“I’m sorry,” He says softly. “Let me get you warm, then we can talk, okay?”

You don’t look convinced, tightening your grip on his wrist and pulling him closer.

Keigo gives in, so, so easily, dropping to his knees and pulling your icy hands into his. He rubs warmth into them, bringing them to his lips and breathing hot over your knuckles.

“Please, starshine. Let me get you warm.”

“I’m already warm,” Your voice slurs, entirely unconvincing.

“I say this very lovingly,” He says, somehow cracking a smile, “but you’re genuinely hypothermic. You can be as mad at me as you want, but you need to get warmed up.”

You chew your lip, cupping his cheeks with your freezing palms, “... You’re not leaving?”

Your voice drawls and Keigo makes a note to turn up the thermostat.

“No, god, no, I’m not,” He tries to assure you, shaking his head, but your grip only gets harsher. He placates you with a squeeze to your knee. “Please let me help.”

He can’t tell you how much he needs to. How hyper aware he is of your chill and of his own thumping heart. That protective urge in his chest wants to just pull you to his chest and wrap you up in him, in his heat, but that’s for later.

Your eyes' gaze goes softer, little specks of light bouncing between your irises. The room fills with blessed, familiar heat and Keigo can feel his shoulders slacken and some of the worry in his chest dissipate.

...

He returns with some of his own soft joggers, fleece-lined and well-loved. He grabbed a few layers, and an armful of blankets and pillows. Anything he could carry gets brought as his little, avian mind craves something he suppressed for years so well.

Nest, nest, nest.

Heat them first, then nest. 

He helps you slip into your new, dry clothes as your teeth begin to chatter. Thank fucking god. Keigo is smart enough to check your toes as he slips onto fuzzy, thermal socks, and they all look to be healthy and functioning. 

You’re quiet during the whole ordeal, save for soft breathing and snapping teeth. You occasionally grab his hand and hold it to whatever part of your skin was bared, mumbling something about how warm he is. 

Keigo eventually gets you settled and surrounded by blankets and pillows which you sink into, eyes hardly open. Only then does he feel like he can pull away enough to start the nearby fire.

It feels somewhat unnecessary, given you’re still heating the room. It’s probably somewhat for the atmosphere, considering the sky is nearly fully black. A bit of crackling flame and light would do you both good. 

(He rarely lights fire, but considering the flame is a kind red and not a fucking disgusting blue, he can bear it. Especially now.) 

When the fire is stoked, he turns back to you and deflates. 

“I’m sorry,” You say, all soft and half-lidded from the blankets. “That was... dumb.”

“It was.” 

Keigo can’t fight you on the obvious. 

There’s a goddamn list of questions he wants to ask you. ‘Why’s and ‘what’s, but he has a pretty good idea of why you were sitting outside and what you were thinking. 

He’s not sure you’d want to talk about it anyway. 

The couch creaks when he sits down a few feet from your little nest, running a tired hand over his face.

“... You know, this couch folds out,” You shift a little, slow and lethargic. Still cold. “We should sleep out here tonight.”

He turns to regards you, and it takes everything in him not to fucking break.

“Why?” His voice shakes and he knows you can tell.

You hum, leaning toward him, “Change of scenery. I think we could both use it.”

“Later.” Keigo agrees. The urge to wrap you up in his (wings) arms feels unbearable, the little avian tickings in his skull loud and needy. “Warm first. Futon later.”

You huff weakly, but lift the blankets to let Keigo slip behind you. His body curls around yours, finding the coldest parts of you and tending to them first. His hands clasp over yours and your feet get tucked between his calves. 

“Thanks,” You murmur, neutral and vacant.

Keigo doesn’t push you.

Instead, you stay tucked in his arms, still shivering, but significantly less cold. Your lips and cheeks look a far healthier color and they’re warm to the touch. He traces his fingertips over the curves of your face and neck, preening in the only way he can muster up.

You eventually break the silence, when the fire is all but embers.

“I heard some of that call…” Your voice trails off. “It sounded bad.”

“It was,” Keigo agrees with a little nod. He really doesn’t want to think about Suits and, you know, the rest of the world, but it feels necessary. “Very bad.”

“Who was it?”

“Old boss.”

“… And?”

Keigo sighs, squeezing you probably a little too tightly, “Why don’t we focus on warming you up from your hypothermic excursion and not my shitty life as a shitty hero—”

“You weren’t a shitty hero, Keigo,” He can hear the mourning in your voice and it makes him want to die, just a little. You cup his cheeks, eyes sad and soft around the edges. “You were a really good one.”

“Was I? News to me.” He laughs, the bitter sound tasting like bile. He hates it, the feel of it mixed with the heat and softness of you. It feels wrong. “I don’t want to talk about all that, starshine. Please just drop it.”

Your face hardens.

“No.”

“… No?”

“No, I’m not done,” You sigh, big and hard. “I think we’re more fucked up than we talk about, Keigo.”

He winces, but you keep going, and he doesn’t move to stop you.

“Probably.”

Your jaw sets like stone on stone. It makes him internally wince as your hands go to cup his cheeks.

“I’m fucked up, you’re fucked up, everything is fucked up. We can ignore it up here, quietly, but it’s true, isn’t it?”

Yes.

“Yeah.” He feels his gut roll, but he doesn’t stop you. His grip goes tighter on your hips. “You’re not wrong.”

“Can we just… Acknowledge it? Please.” You ask, beg, softly as you rub his cheeks with your thumbs. “Please, Keigo.”

He doesn’t know what to do at first. He really wants to lock up. Shut down. Lock all the nasty feelings in chest, behind his heart, so they can burrow into his spine and keep him moving forward.

He wraps his hands around your wrists.

Your eyes look glassy, tears sticking in your bottom eyelashes, but not daring to fall. Not yet.

“Keigo, I’m fucked up, I know that, and that’s okay,” You deflate a little. “I’m getting better. We’re getting better. I know we are.”

“We a-are.”

Keigo’s voice cracks, hoarse in his throat and tight as the uniform belt he used to wear. His lungs feel hot, too stuffed even as he tries to swallow the heat that’s welling up on the very back of his tongue.

“You are good, Keigo, I promise,” You lean in to give his forehead the lightest kiss and Keigo feels part of himself die in the best way. “Please, let’s just talk.”

And so, he does.

…

He tells you about Jin first.

You’d heard about him, the villain Hawks killed during the War. Published for the world to see, over and over, forever. The video was one you’d only seen once, during your early days at the hospital, but you could recall the footage on your grainy hospital television.

Your pretty eyes, pretty Keigo, cut him down. One of his old feathers, hardened into a stiff blade, struck Jin across the chest, arcing up to his neck and slicing a few important arteries  and veins. It was an imperfect job, one that probably made his death more painful and prolonged than it needed to be.

You don’t let go of Keigo’s cheeks as he tells you the story. You can’t, you’re too busy thumbing away the little tears that roll down his cheeks.

He speaks between sobs that break from his chest. Underused and much-needed.

“He was good, starshine,” Keigo curls in a little on himself, but you keep him mostly upright. “I had to, y-you know? I didn’t have a choice, if I didn’t—"

How many more people would be dead?

His body convulsed, the little tears turning fat as he collapsed into your chest and buried himself in you. Like he was hiding, and god, did you let him.

You hushed him, soothed him with little kisses, and listened.

“And then Dabi—”

You hate him, obviously. You only know his name and visage, and you hate him so much it hurts. Part of you wants to rub at his scars like he lets you, but you decide against it in Keigo’s fragility.

He tells you of the blue flames, how the boot felt against his back, how his throat burned for weeks from the heat and smoke. His grip on you goes so tight, you’re afraid he’s going to tear your shirt to shreds.

“He took them, starshine,” Keigo’s voice muffled into your shoulder, the sound of it rattling you. “He t-took them!”

And he slumps against you, well and truly, and can’t muster up another word. All you could do is hold him, rocking him from your little, shared spot on the couch and whisper to him little comforts. You’re crying a little too, breath tight and hazy as you let Keigo shatter in your arms.

He’s not ready to talk about his wings and that’s okay. More than okay.

So, you soothe him. He soothes you right back, rubbing at your sides, hips, thighs— whatever he can reach and touch and claim. You’re good, you’re the closest he’s going to get to permeance and he’ll be damned to let you go when you feel so good and he feels so fucking awful.

You fall back onto the chest, pulling Keigo with you so he can lay atop you. His ear presses to your chest, heart thumping in his ear while you lock your arms around him. Caged in and held, with the lightest pressure on the thick skin of his scars.

“I’ll never truly get it, I can’t,” You admit, quietly as you smooth back some of his tear-matted hair. “But I want to be here. I want to listen when you’re want to talk. Need to talk. You can dash off on your own, Keigo, that’s okay. Just know that I’ve got you to, okay?”

Keigo sniffled, peering up at you with wide eyes, “Are you sure you can handle it?”

“I am now, aren’t I? Just a few hours out from nearly being a popsicle,” You hum and joke, glowing from the inside out when Keigo graces you with a little smile.

It takes a few more moments for him to cover, haul himself up to the crook of your neck and breathing hard and deep for a while. Like he’s trying to absorb you through scent alone.

“… Are you okay?” Keigo asks, squeezing you so tight it hurts. (And you want more of it.) “You’re not as cold anymore.”

“I’m feeling okay,” You paw at your face a bit, rubbing your cheeks like they’re still numb and not flushed with blood and sticky with drying tears. “I just freaked out a little.”

“… Because I left?”

You nod, chewing your lips.

“I don’t want to be alone, Keigo,” You whisper it, though he already knows your admission. “I’m terrified of you leaving.”

“When I left,” Keigo rises to meet your gaze, gooey and cobbled. “Did you think I wouldn’t come back?”

“… Maybe,” You shake your head, refusing to look at him. “You didn’t say anything about coming back, just about… leftovers.”

You both frown.

“I panicked.” You shake your heard.

“… That’s what happens when you panic?”

“I guess?” Your mouth feels too dry. “I don’t know. I got scared. I panicked. What else was I supposed to do?”

There’s an obvious answer or two, but it’s unspoken.

“I’m not leaving,” Keigo rubs at your cheeks. “You’re gonna have to try pretty hard to get me gone, starshine. I love you too much to go easily.”

It’s a declaration, a strong one, and god does it feel fucking good to hear.

“… Promise?” You ask him as his palms cup your cheeks and jaw.

“Promise.”

“I heard on the call—”

Keigo interrupts you with a kiss, hard and long that steals your breath and makes your head spin.

“Promise.” Keigo breaths, pretty eyes meeting your heat-filled ones. “Everywhere, all the time, forever. I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s a start, even if that insecurity is so deeply rooted. The adoration in his eyes, and the sweetness of his touch tempers it all. It’s there still, just like how there’s so much unspoken that needs to be sorted, chewed on, and digested.

But now?

The embers in the hearth need another log or two. The futon needs to be folded out and I’d be best if you shared a cup or two of tea. Preferably something with lavender that’ll scent the cabin with the smells of spring and herbs.

Now, you’re both more than enough.

…

thank you for reading!!💞keep an eye out for part 3! 👀

ko-fi

[nextdoor-neighbors]

Sweet Revenge

Request: hi babes! ur writing is amazing! i was wondering if i could request a fred x reader where reader and fred get into a fight over fred being flirty with other girls and the next morning reader is in a very revealing outfit and makes all the boys (harry ron george neville and even draco if you’d like) jealous all day and ignores fred and u can choose how it ends!

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Some sexual content near the end

“Nice one, Y/N!”

“Yeah, that was awesome!”

You smile proudly at your patronus. It was the first time, after hours upon hours of trying both during and after Dumbledore’s Army meetings, that you were able to successfully produce your patronus. You stand with Ginny and Hermione, who are as excited as you are. You turn to see if Fred, your boyfriend, had seen your success. After all, he was the one you’d been complaining to about not being able to do it, so you hope that he saw you finally succeed.

Instead, you’re met with Fred standing across the room, surrounded by the Gryffindor Chasers and a few other girls, who are all giggling at something he said. You watch, your heart dropping, as he sends a wink in Angelina Johnson’s direction before going back to whatever story he was animatedly telling them.

You can’t believe him. There’s no way you’re going to be able to produce your patronus again - at least not now, with anger building in your chest. Fred is a very friendly, very flirty person, and you’ve known that, since before you started dating. And it’s not that you ever expect his attention all the time, but to flirt openly with other girls with you in the same room?

You turn back to Hermione and Ginny, who noticed, too. Both girls have a scowl on their faces.

“That git,” Ginny grumbles, “I’ll hex him, if you want. Actually, I don’t care if you want me to or not. I’ll do it anyway.”

“No, no, Gin, it’s fine,” you say, “I’ll talk to him after the meeting.”

“Let me know when you’re done. I still want to hex him for being an idiot.”

Ginny’s protectiveness of you, despite you being a year older than her, makes you laugh a little. The two of you were friends before Fred and you started dating, so naturally, the relationship came with lots of threats and warnings from Ginny to Fred about what she’d do to him if he ever hurt you. But still, you want to approach this situation on your own.

The meeting ends soon afterwards, and you go to leave the room without waiting for Fred, the image of him flirting with the group of girls burned in your memory.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!”

You keep walking, your stomach twisting as you hear his footsteps growing closer.

“Hey,” Fred repeats as he reaches you, his tone breathy after his run down the hall. You don’t even look over at him.

“Hi,” you say shortly.

“Are you upset?” he asks, “Were you not able to produce your patronus again? You’ll get it one of these days, I know-“

“No, I did it,” you interrupt, your tone still flat and uninterested.

“Y/N, that’s great! Then why are you-“

“You were just too busy flirting with other girls to notice,” you finish, cutting him off again.

He goes silent, and you risk a glance over at him. You know that he knows exactly what he was doing, and that’s what makes you so upset. But now, he looks slightly dumbfounded, as if he didn’t think it would affect you.

“And so what?” he finally says, turning to look at you, a hard look in his eyes. “It’s not like... It’s not like I was doing anything wrong, y’know, like, like... like cheating-“

“Really?” you ask, stopping in your tracks in the middle of the hallway. The two of you took the longer path back to Gryffindor Tower, so you really hoped that nobody was going to come down this way, too.

“We are in a relationship, Fred, in case you forgot!” you continue, your voice growing louder as your anger spills out, both at the initial flirting and now, at his horrible response. “You can’t just flirt with other girls! It’s still shitty to do!”

Fred just looks at you for a minute, his face mirroring your anger, before turning to walk away.

“I was just telling them a story,” he says, defensively, “And I’m sorry I missed your patronus, but I can’t be paying attention to you every second, okay? I have other friends to talk to.”

“I’m aware, Fred. I’m glad you have plenty of friends to talk to, but talking to them is different than openly flirting with them! And with me in the same room? Why would you do that?”

He doesn’t respond as you approach the common room. He grumbles the password to the Fat Lady, and you follow him silently into the common room. It’s mostly quiet besides a few younger girls sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace and giggling to each other.

“Look,” Fred says, quietly, turning around to face you. “I’m sorry I made you upset. I just think that you overreacted-“

“No, Fred,” you reply, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible so that the girls on the couch don’t overhear, but in your anger, it’s extremely hard. “You should’ve thought about what you were doing first. Now, I’m tired, so I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

You walk past him, up to your room, not bothering to stay and hear him say goodnight in return or turn around to look at him over your shoulder. You’re too frustrated with him right now, and you already have a plan for tomorrow to get back at him. You know you shouldn’t, and that it’s petty, but if you’re completely honest with yourself, you think it’ll be a little fun.

Once you’re up to your room, you give a very short rundown of the situation to Hermione before going to bed. It takes you a while to fall asleep as you toss and turn, thoughts of Fred flirting with the other girls and then defending himself with that firey look in his eyes filling your head as you drift off

-

You wake up early the next morning to properly choose your outfit. Unfortunately, it’s a schoolday, but you can work with that.

You choose your shortest skirt and tighest shirt, making sure to leave the top few buttons undone. You’ll fix yourself up before class, but you have all of breakfast to work on your plan. Next, you sit yourself down on your bed, pulling up your knee-high socks. You then let your undone tie rest over your shoulders and pull on your robe, letting it hang open to display your outfit choice. You actually look pretty good, if you do say so yourself. You’re normally so careful to wear your uniform properly at all times, and even on weekends, you usually still wear outfits that cover you up a good amount, so you’re sure to catch some eyes today.

“Good mor-... Oh. Wow.”

Hermione looks you up and down a few times before meeting your eyes with a slight smirk.

“You’re trying to get a reaction out of Fred, aren’t you?”

You smile. “Do you think it’ll work?”

“Absolutely.” Hermione looks you over once again. “You’re going to drive him mad. Let me get ready and I’ll walk down to breakfast with you. I want to see this.”

You know that most of the boys would be down at breakfast by the time you and Hermione got there, because that’s how it usually goes, which works perfectly for your plan.

Once Hermione is dressed and ready, books tucked under her arm per usual, the two of you head down to the common room. Ginny sits, perched on the armrest of one of the chairs, waiting. When she sees you and Hermione approaching, she hops off the armrest. Her eyes widen at you and she whistles.

“Something tells me this new look has to do with Fred? I’m not complaining at all, but you better fill me in.”

You explain the situation to Ginny as the three of you make your way to the Great Hall.

“Hermione’s right,” she says, “Fred’s gonna go crazy with all the boys who are gonna be checking you out today. Girls, too.” She winks at you, which makes both you and Hermione laugh.

Your eyes go right to the Gryffindor table as you walk into the Great Hall, where you see Fred, sitting between George and Ron, with Harry next to Ron, and Lee Jordan next to George. It’s a perfect setup, because there’s three spots waiting across from them for you, Hermione, and Ginny, between Neville and Dean Thomas.

The only one from that group who looks up as you walk in is Harry. His eyes widen as he looks at you, and some water drips down his chin from the goblet he was drinking from. You can’t help but laugh.

“Might have to take a few notes from you to get Harry’s attention like that,” Ginny teases quietly as the three of you approach the table. You take the middle seat, across from Fred, and Hermione and Ginny take the seats on either side of you.

“Good morning, boys,” Ginny says, loudly, interrupting their conversation.

All eyes turn to Ginny, but immediately drift over to you. You watch as Ron’s eyes drop to your chest, and he blushes deeply before looking up to your face again.

“Lookin’ good, Y/N,” Lee says, loudly, to which George elbows him, probably because he can already feel the anger radiating off of his twin.

You look at Fred, finally, who has his jaw set as he looks you over, but he stays silent.

“Thank you, Lee.” You smile sweetly at him before dropping your eyes to grab some food.

As you bite into a muffin, you look back up to George, who’s already looking at you. He raises his eyebrows at you when Fred isn’t looking, as if to say, what the hell are you doing?

You simply wink at him in return, just as Fred glances over at you. But you avoid Fred’s eyes, looking back down to your breakfast.

Once you finish eating, you stand up.

“I have to head back to my room to get my things before class. I’ll see you guys later.” You smile at everyone, again avoiding looking at Fred. You know that you’re pissing him off, especially by ignoring him, but it’s almost like a game now.

“Y/L/N-“

You turn towards the voice as you leave the Gryffindor table to see Draco Malfoy walking towards you. Now that’s a surprise, and if there’s anything that’s going to make Fred completely lose it, it’s Malfoy talking to you.

Draco looks you up and down as he approaches, and you keep walking out of the Great Hall, nonverbally telling him that if he wants to talk to you, he’ll have to follow, which is exactly what he does.

“You still dating Weasley?” he asks, a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes.

“Yes, I am, and if you’ve just come to insult my boyfriend to me, I’ll hex you. Again.”

Panic flits across Draco’s face momentarily as he, no doubt, remembers an incident between the two of you a few months prior. Soon enough, it’s gone, and his smirk is back as he shoves his hands into his pants pockets.

“No, I just came to say that when you inevitably get sick of him and all of his equally annoying siblings, you can come find me.”

“You just insulted him. Not only him, but his siblings, who happen to be some of my best friends,” you point out, more annoyed than anything. You’re not actually going to hex him (this time), but it’s fun to see his reaction when you threaten it.

Draco scoffs. “Considering what I could say about them, annoying is practically a compliment. I’m just saying-“ He looks you up and down once again- “I’m sure I could show you a much better time than Weasley.”

You roll your eyes again as you approach the stairs that will lead you up to your common room. “Keep dreaming, Malfoy.”

You part ways from him, heading back to your room and grabbing your books for your first few classes. You look at yourself in the mirror as you fix up your uniform. As much fun as you’re having, you also don’t want house points taken away.

When you head back down to the common room, you’re surprised to see that Fred isn’t there. You’d been expecting him to follow you and give you some sort of reaction, and you were slightly disappointed that he didn’t. Although, that’s probably because Ginny is chewing him out at the breakfast table. You wouldn’t put it past her to call him out in front of everyone, which was something you’d always admired about your best friend.

You know you won’t see Fred again really until lunch, so the morning drags by. You sit by Neville in Transfiguration, and he gets slightly flustered when you strike up a conversation with him.

Surprisingly, Fred isn’t at lunch, which worries you a bit. You ask George where he is, and he just shrugs and says he had something to do, which is completely unlike him.

The afternoon drags by just as the morning did, and instead of going straight to dinner after last period, you make a beeline for the common room, hoping to catch Fred. After not talking to him all day and getting attention from every boy except for him, your anger at him has subsided for the most part, and now, you just miss him. Of course, you’re not going to let his actions from yesterday slide, but you want to talk it through with him.

Thankfully, he’s in the common room with George. They’re on the couch, talking amongst themselves about products for their shop. Fred looks up at you as you walk over, but you can’t read his expression very well past the furrow of his eyebrows. George glances up and quickly closes up the suitcase they’d been holding between them, whispering something to Fred before leaving.

“Hi,” you say - the first thing you’ve said directly to him all day.

“Hey.” He looks extremely good: he’s in his school shirt still, the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, displaying his freckled forearms. His hair is messy, just like it always is after he runs his fingers through it when he’s stressed. He chews on his lip as his eyes scan your body. Your robe hangs over your arm, so you’re left in your tight shirt and short skirt.

“I know what you were doing today. It’s because of what I did yesterday, right?”

He doesn’t sound defensive, as you expected him to. Instead, he sounds... defeated, almost. You walk around the couch to sit next to him, taking the spot where George was. Fred immediately reaches out, resting his hand on your knee.

“Yeah,” you admit, “I wanted to make you jealous.”

He waits to respond as a group of fourth year boys walks through the common room to leave. Once they’re gone, he says,

“Well, it definitely worked. Nobody could keep their eyes off of you. And it made me realize...” He lets out a deep sigh. “How stupid I was yesterday. You were right. You, and George, and Ginny, and everyone else who called me out on it. I’m really sorry, princess. I hope you can forgive me.”

You know Fred well enough to know that he really means it. And while you forgive him, you can’t help but want to rile him up again, just for fun.

“I forgive you,” you reply. “Does this mean you’re not mad about Malfoy flirting with me and telling me that he can show me a better time than you can?”

Fred reacts instantly, sitting up straighter and his hand tightening on your knee. There’s a glint in his eye that you recognize very well.

“He did what now? That little-“

He cuts himself off, and instead, a smirk forms on his lips as he grabs you, and in one swift movement, pulls you on to his lap. Once you’re on his lap, your skirt hiking up your thighs, he grabs your hips tightly and leans towards you, lips against your ear.

“As if he - or anyone who was checking you out today - could make you feel better than I do.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and at his body pressed against yours. He may piss you off sometimes, and you may piss him off in return, but at the end of the day, he’s yours and you’re his. And you wouldn’t want it to be any other way.

“Oh yeah?” You grind down against his growing bulge, and he lets out a low groan. Everyone else is definitely at dinner by this time, so the two of you are safe with the common room to yourselves. You smirk at him.

“Then show me.”

[lallyloo]

Jealousy

(So @imincognitohere and I were talking about EB recs, and porn, and how Link’s entire porn collection would consist of a dark haired guy with glasses and a John Mayer lookalike. Then we imagined Rhett finding Link’s JM porn collection and crying, and then just railing Link. And now we’re here.)

*

He’s not really supposed to be on Link’s laptop, but Link’s running behind and Rhett really needs the May 2022 Ear Biscuits schedule now.

He silently curses himself for not keeping the schedule on his own laptop, or even his phone, but Link’s the one who types during planning sessions and they’re always together, so it’s never mattered before.

But today Link’s stuck in traffic on the way to the creative house, and Stevie’s trying to book their first guest in nearly two years, and Rhett needs the info now.

And they have each other’s passwords for this very reason.

So Rhett waits for the sign-in screen to appear, and he types Link’s password.

RaisinCRUNCH1984!

And he’s in.

 The desktop is just a line of neatly organized folders against a backdrop of some douche playing guitar.

Rhett stares at the douche for a second.

He knows his name is John Mayer.

But in Rhett’s mind he’s just ‘douche’.

Link’s crazy about his music but Rhett’s not, and the guy seems like a tool anyway.

And why does Link need him on his desktop? Why not Christy? Or the kids? Or hell, why not him and Rhett? Would that be too much? No.

And sure, Rhett’s desktop is a silhouetted photo of himself in Death Valley, but that’s neither here nor there. It was a great trip, and it’s a great photo, and it’s not just some random musician guy.

Rhett tears his gaze away from the background and scans the labels on the desktop folders, stopping when his eyes hit one called ‘May’. It seems to be the most obvious choice, likely full of schedule info, brainstorming, personal appointment times, etc.

To Rhett’s surprise, the files inside seem to have much more random names than the desktop folders.

It doesn’t seem like Link at all, and Rhett is a bit flummoxed as he reads down the list of random letters and numbers jumbled together.

He settles on a file called 324_eB_32_MMdrmfanta.

He’s in such a hurry he doesn’t pay attention to the file type, and Rhett realizes it’s a mistake as soon as he clicks it.

It’s not a list of dates or information. It’s not a schedule.

It’s a video.

And it looks like porn.

There’s a room. An office maybe? The camera pans and there’s a desk and a chair and a window.. and a bed. Yep, it’s porn.

The camera pans to socked feet, and up bare legs, over a little red speedo, to a bare chest, up to the face of someone who looks a bit like a younger Link.

Dark hair, blue eyes, glasses.

There’s a knocking sound in the video, someone at the door, and Rhett is curious to see who might walk in. It’ll be a blonde woman, he assumes. A Christy lookalike.

“Link you dirty dog..”

He’s invested now, curious to see what kind of fantasies Link is into. He knows Link and Christy’s relationship has its ups and downs, and Link’s blue balls have been an ongoing joke for years, and maybe he’s invading their privacy a bit by watching this video.. But it’s not actually Link and Christy. It’s just porn. Just a fantasy Link has. And they’ve talked about fantasies before. Hell, Rhett told him about the first time he ever jerked off. Watching a little porn video is nothing.

The guy with the glasses heads for the door and Rhett is enraptured as the scene unfolds – slipping off the chain lock, a hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly. Rhett wonders what the woman’s going to be wearing. What she’s going to say. What they’re going to do. How they’re going to fuck.

On screen, the door opens and Rhett pulls back a bit, surprised, when he realizes there’s a man on the other side of it. Another brunette, with longer hair – not as long as Rhett’s, but longer than Link’s. And flowy. The guy’s kinda pretty.

Huh. Maybe it’s a threesome video? Two guys and a girl? The guy with the glasses looks surprised but pleased, and Rhett stares at the screen, wondering when the girl will show up.

The other guy says something Rhett doesn’t register, and then he steps into the room, wraps the glasses guy up in his arms, and shoves his tongue down his throat.

The unmistakable sound of a porn sax overdub echoes through Link’s office, and Rhett pulls himself out of it. He clicks through the video, skipping ahead, his eyes growing wide as he gets quick glimpses of erections, blow jobs, sloppy kisses, a finger in a butthole, AND IS THAT HIS TONGUE?? And fucking, so much fucking, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Rhett skips to the end to see the long-haired guy trailing his tongue over the glasses guy’s dick, licking up every messy drop of cum.

And. Oh.

The girl never showed up.

Rhett closes the video.

So Link watches porn. Gay porn.

And he’s never told him.

Rhett can’t help but feel a little confused. And a little jealous.

Why hasn’t Link told him? Why haven’t they talked about it?

Does Link like guys?

Rhett’s never been into guys. Not once, like ever.

Well, sure, he’s thought about Link once in awhile. What it might be like to touch him. Kiss him. Maybe more.

But that doesn’t count. Because it’s Link.

It’s Link!

Rhett’s not into guys. Link doesn’t count.

And if Link is into guys he clearly doesn’t want to tell Rhett yet. And that’s fine.

Isn’t it?

Rhett is a little hurt, but he’s alright with letting Link tell him in his own time. That’s what best friends are for. They’re cool and they’re understanding and they’re patient. And Rhett is all of those things.

He closes the folder, and his eyes fall to the desktop again.

To that douche.

With the familiar face.

Why does he suddenly seem so familiar?

Rhett stares at him for a moment and his blood runs cold.

The video.

The guy at the door with the stupid floppy hair.

Rhett quickly opens the folder again, choosing another file at random.

Cheesy porn music starts and Rhett watches another slightly geeky dark-haired guy with glasses flirt with a dark-haired flop. Rhett skips ahead quickly. There are blowjobs, and the flop is lifting the cute geeky guy, kissing him, spreading his cheeks as the glasses guy gasps–

Rhett closes that video, and clicks another one, and moans fill Link’s office as the video starts right in the middle of a fucking scene. Two guys. Another cute eyeglassed guy with dark hair, and some long-haired jerk. As Rhett watches, he catches sight of a guitar in the background and his face burns hot.

“Rhett?”

Rhett fumbles with the laptop, slamming it closed, but the video keeps playing and the moans of two guys echo through the room as Rhett turns towards the door.

“Link!”

Link looks furious.

“Dude, what’re you doing??”

“I was just looking for– ”

“You’re snooping on my laptop??” Link pushes past him and opens his computer, typing in his password.

“No! I wasn’t! I was just– ”

Link clicks the little x in the top corner of the video and the room falls quiet as he turns back to Rhett.

“That’s my private stuff.”

“I was looking for the Ear Biscuits schedule!”

“And you thought you’d just watch some of my porn while you were in there?”

“It said May! I thought it meant the month!”

“Well it doesn’t mean that!”

“I know that now!”

Link looks at him for a moment and then rolls his eyes. “It’s a stupid name. I’ll.. rename it.. and hide it, I guess.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“What if you need somethin’ else in the future?”

“Well I’ll know not to look in the John Mayer folder.”

Link makes a sound, something akin to a squawk. “What??”

“That’s what it is, right?”

“It’s– I mean, it’s..” Link stutters, unable to look at him. “NO.”

“Oh, come on.”

“It’s not.”

Rhett gestures to the laptop, which still sits open on the desk. “You’re tellin’ me all those dudes with the long hair don’t make you think of… him?”

Link doesn’t answer the question, he just frowns. “I should’a called it something else.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. PORN maybe?? THIS IS MY PORN RHETT DON’T LOOK AT IT?? Does it need to be that obvious?”

Rhett can’t help but laugh, “That wouldn’t help at all. You know it’d only make me more curious.”

“True.” Link says, and he’s smiling now at least. “So fine, I’ll call it something you won’t care about.”

“Like what?”

“Well I’m not gonna tell you, ya dummy.”

Rhett raises his hands in defeat, “fine, fine.”

The room is quiet for a moment as they look at each other, and Rhett can’t help it when his gaze moves from Link’s face down to the idiot on the screen.

He’s so smug. So full of himself. He writes stupid lyrics and people just swoon over him. Link swoons over him.

But Rhett writes lyrics too. And he sings. What’s wrong with his songs?

“What’s John Mayer got that I ain’t got?”

Link’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “WHAT?”

“I didn’t even know you liked guys,” Rhett says quietly, “and now you’re into HIM of all people.”

“What’s wrong with HIM?”

“Well, for starters, he’s a– ” Rhett stops himself from calling the guy a name. Yeah he’s a stupid dumb idiot who steals the affection of certain best friends, but Rhett doesn’t need to say that to Link. He doesn’t need to make him more upset. “He’s not.. ”

“I know you think he’s not cool,” Link rolls his eyes again. “I don’t care.”

“It’s not that.”

“Well what is it??”

“He’s not.. me.” Rhett can feel his face start to burn the moment the words are out of his mouth. It’s stupid. He’s stupid. What is this? What’s he even doing?

“Not you??” Link laughs. “Dude, don’t tell me you’re jealous of John Mayer now too.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” Rhett says, and Link shoots him a skeptical look. “I mean, maybe just a bit. But now...”

“Now what?”

“After I saw those videos..” Rhett chokes out. “Link, why’re you thinkin’ about him and not me?”

“Rhett, you’re not into guys!”

“And you are??” Rhett can’t seem to help the hysterical tone in his voice.

“Well, yeah, man.”

“Since when??”

“Since.. always, I think.”

“What about Christy?”

“Christy knows,” Link shrugs, “she’s okay with it.”

“Oh.”

Rhett thinks of his own wife and how she’d react if it were him.

Lately Jessie’s been more open-minded than anyone, more willing to learn and explore and grow. Would she be okay if he were.. if he liked..

And he already knows the answer – has heard her say a hundred times, a hundred ways, ‘we’re not who we used to be.. so whatever that means for you and Link, that’s fine by me. The four of us can figure it out.’

Rhett hadn’t questioned her at the time. Hadn’t realized what she meant.

“So, look, you found my porn,” Link is saying, “but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about this whole jealousy thing you’ve got going on. I’m not gonna stop watching it just because your feelings are hurt.”

“But..”

“But what??” Link asks, exasperated.

“I want you to think of me.”

“Look,” Link sighs and takes off his glasses, rubbing a hand over his eyes, “I used to think of you..”

“When??”

Link shrugs. “Awhile ago. Years.”

“Why’d you stop??”

“Rhett, listen, I knew it was never gonna happen with you so I made myself stop.”

“And it’s gonna happen with John Mayer??”

“No,” Link laughs, “it’s just a.. just a stupid fantasy.”

“So let me be your fantasy.” Rhett hates himself the moment it’s out of his mouth – he’s never said anything more embarrassing – and Link just gives him an odd look.

“Dude..”

Rhett cringes, “I know.”

“I’m not gonna fantasize about my straight best friend.”

“But I want..”

“Rhett, WHAT.”

“I’m not into guys,” Rhett tries to explain, feeling like an idiot, “but I’m into you.”

“Well, I’m a guy.”

“I know, but you’re – ”

Link steps forward, and before Rhett can say anything more Link leans in and kisses him. It seems to be a test at first, gentle, and then Link slips his tongue out, pressing against Rhett’s lips, encouraging Rhett to open for him.

And Rhett does. He doesn’t even question it. His brain just screams, yes! Finally! And he’s kissing Link, soft and wet, and an ache shoots through his body, straight to his dick.

When Link pulls away, Rhett’s still got his eyes closed, his head tilted, with a smile plastered to his mouth.

“Did you like that?” Link asks.

“Yeahhh,” Rhett sighs dreamily.

“Then you’re into guys, you dummy. The percentage don’t matter.”

Rhett’s eyes snap open. “Okay, I’m into guys.”

Link looks at him, wide-eyed, and smiles. “So kiss me again then.”

Rhett does, taking hold of Link’s face and kissing him, and he knows he’s supposed to be doing something else. He came in this room for a reason. A file or something.

But none of that matters because he’s kissing Link and Link’s kissing him back, and as Rhett pushes Link up against the desk they bump the cable on Link’s laptop and it beeps to notify them that it’s come unplugged.

“Hold on,” Link mumbles, pulling away to plug the cable back in, and Rhett’s eyes are fixed to the photo on the desktop.

Stupid John Mayer douche.

He’ll never have Link.

“What’re you lookin’ at?”

Rhett glances up to find Link watching him curiously.

“What?”

“You’re staring at my laptop like you wanna murder it.”

“What,” Rhett sputters, “no I’m not.”

“You really are jealous, huh?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Link, I’m fine.”

“Guess I’ll just leave it open then,” Link smirks. “Since it’s not botherin’ you.”

Rhett reaches past him and slams the laptop shut. “No.”

Link laughs. “You’re like a jealous girlfriend.”

“Boyfriend.”

“Oh, you’re my boyfriend now?”

“Maybe,” Rhett says, and he’s dying. Literally dying. Link’s never going to let him live this down.

But Link kisses him again and suddenly Rhett doesn’t care. They’re kissing and Link is touching him. Link’s hands move down to unbutton his shirt, so Rhett grabs hold of Link’s shirt and tugs it up and over his head.

“What ones did you watch?”

“What what?”

“The videos, which ones.”

Rhett nearly chokes, looking away, and Link takes him by the chin and pulls his gaze back.

“You can tell me.”

“I don’t know,” Rhett admits, “I just skimmed a few.”

“Well what’d they do in them?”

“Blowjobs,” Rhett says, replaying the scenes in his mind, “lots of fingers everywhere. Fucking.”

“Fucking?”

“Yeah, tons of it.”

Link’s fingers slide down Rhett’s belly, stopping at his belt, and the buckle clinks as Link undoes it. “You wanna act it out?”

“Act it out??” Rhett feels like he might actually scream.

“Yeah.”

“DO I HAVE TO BE JOHN MAYER?”

“No!” Link laughs and shuts him up with another kiss. “Just be you, dummy.”

“You want me to– ” Rhett stammers, speaking against Link’s lips, “Want me to go to the door?”

“The door? Why?”

“To knock? Like in the video?”

Link laughs again, and at least Rhett’s managed that. If nothing else, he can always make Link laugh.

“You watched the dorm fantasy video?”

“I don’t know.”

“Guy studying? Red speedo?”

“Ohh, yeah, that one.”

“And how’d it end?”

Rhett’s eyes go wide. “Fucking.”

“Right,” Link says, smiling back at him. “So you wanna just skip to that?”

Rhett’s died. He’s a corpse.

But he manages to breathe out, “Yes.”

Link opens a drawer and tosses a bottle of lube on his desk, and he’s saying “come on, come on,” and Rhett’s brain finally returns to him, because if there’s one thing he’s good at it’s using his dick.

He’s not quite sure of the next step because he’s never done THIS. But Link walks him through the lube and the prep, and god, his ass is beautiful, and now Rhett gets to fuck it, and when Link’s hand slips over Rhett’s dick, slicking him up good, Rhett’s knees nearly give out.

Then Link’s turning away, still talking to him, teasing, asking, “You gonna fuck me better than John Mayer would?” and Rhett grips his hips and slides in slow, easing in deep, gasping at how tight Link is around him.

And Link groans,“Oh god.. fuck, you’re in..

And moans, “Rhett, do it.”

And Rhett does.

He fucks the hell out of Link.

Plows him into the desk.

Tries to fuck John Mayer right out of his mind.

Just rails him.

And Link keeps gasping, “Yeah, like that, yeah, Rhett, fuck me like that,” and when he breathes out “better than John Mayer ever could..” Rhett stops and grabs hold of him, turning him around, needing to see him, wanting Link to see who’s fucking him and giving it to him so good.

Link goes easily, seemingly happy about it, and when Link is bare-assed on the desk with his dick in his hand, Rhett hooks his arms under his knees and fucks in again.

“Tell me,” Rhett sputters as he fucks with everything he’s got.

“Tell you what?” Link is looking up at him, dazed, and they both know Link’s teasing.

“Tell me I’m better.”

“Better than who?”

“You know who,” Rhett grits out, and he’s going to come. Soon. Real soon. And he needs to hear it so bad. “HIM.”

“Oh..” Link grins, and his voice catches in his throat as he says, “John Mayer?”

Rhett can only nod, silently begging Link to give him what he needs.

“You’re better,” Link smiles up at him, his breath stuttering, and Rhett can feel him tighten around his cock. “You’re so good, Rhett, fuck, you fuck me better than anyone.”

“Yeah,” Rhett gasps, pulling Link’s knees up higher, fucking in tighter, harder, faster, and he nearly folds Link in half when he leans in to kiss him again.

And Link breathes against Rhett’s mouth, “No one fucks me like you..” and he comes, shooting hot between them, and Rhett groans and stills, coming hard inside Link.

“Fuck, yeah, so much better than him,” Link sighs, “You’re bigger too.”

And Rhett’s pretty sure he passes out.

When he comes to, he’s still holding onto Link, and he lets go slowly, easing his legs down.

“You alright?” Link’s asking, with a little worried expression on his face.

“Yeah,” Rhett says, “was I out long?”

“You were out??” Link sits up quickly, getting a better look at him.

“I think so,” Rhett shrugs, “I dunno. Maybe it was just too good.”

Link laughs, “Dude, stop.”

Rhett stares down at him, looking hurt.

“What, you’re sayin’ it wasn’t good?”

“Rhett– ”

And Rhett knows he’s teasing again, and he knows it was good, but Rhett pushes against his chest anyway, encouraging Link to lie back down on the desk.

And Rhett leans over and licks up every messy drop of cum from Link’s chest, and sucks his dick clean too.

He’s clearly better than John Mayer.

And he definitely likes guys. Especially Link.

[slashersins-abandoned]

build-a-bear date

jason voorhees

this boy will dead ass put on his best clothes , his gloves , a hat , a face mask , sunglasses , and come to build a bear with you . he may not speak but fuck he is so excited to do this with you , and you look so fucking happy and excited . he will without a doubt do everything with such dedication and seriousness during the heart ceremony that the bear builder is a bit nervous . he gets his build a bear soft , barely stuffed so that it falls over when it’s sitting . he picks out an outfit similar to his , a bit sad there is no mask or little machete . he’s having so much fun and you can tell . and oh god , there’s little kids who can’t quite reach things and he is helping them , and somehow there are now two kids sitting on either side of him helping him make his birth certificate for his new stuffed animal and jason is just so happy and enjoying himself despite the fact that the children’s mothers look slightly terrified . he ends up naming his bear mr fluffington due to the help of the children who decided jason was their new best friend . the cashier takes a picture of you on the polaroid and jason is very happy with it . he may or may not make a small machete for mr fluffington so he can gaurd the cabin .

michael myers

somehow you got michael maskless and dressed in normal people clothes and inside of a mall . he’s intimidating , hair pulled back into a messy bun , face full of stubble , blue eyes cutting into everything and everyone . he doesn’t seem to care , picking his build a bear after staring at them . his bear is completely over stuffed and hard as a rock . he doesn’t move . doesn’t sing . barely holds the heart before dropping it onto the back instead of stuffing it in and watching it fall to the floor . the bear builder tries to pick it up , but michael steps on it , basically telling them to sew the bear up without it . after wards he takes the heart and pockets it . he doesn’t care what the bear wears . the bear has a black shirt and some jeans and that’s it , the clothes barely fit , and it is almost impossible to put them on . when he names it , he just sits at the computer and stares . he names it “no” . later that night , you find “no” stabbed , half of it’s stuffing on the floor leaving a trail to his body . michael is on the floor sewing the heart back inside of it .

brahms heelshire

you have to get one of those do it at home yourself build a bear maker kits shipped to you , but you try and give brahms the full experience . it actually scratches an itch of indulge on a childish activity that he didn’t know he had . and the fact that the bear that comes in the kit is rather small , makes him happy . he gives his bear to doll brahms . making it was fun , you taking on the role of peppy bear builder . he thought it was cute . his bear is medium full , and he wanted it dressed in a suit . his name is bearington the third . when you asked if he wanted to help you make your bear he lit up , using his adult voice and treating you like a child . he made you do a million and one things during your heart ceremony and you couldn’t help but laugh at how silly he was . all in all it was a super cute fun time and now bearington and doll brahms are never apart .

thomas hewit

you can’t really bring him to build a bear as i don’t think they existed in the time period he lives in , buuuuut you can make him one . you have him pick out a fabric he likes , not giving him any clue as to why . you ask him how soft he likes things . he tells you like his pillow . a little on the firm side . you make a little heart and you have him do a little ceremony with it to put his love in it . he humors you but looks at you with a raised brow as if you’re the silliest person he’s ever met . you ask him what his favorite outfit is and make him pick out more fabrics to get a clothes set out . when you present him with the bear he is shocked . he tries not to tear up . tries not to cry , but he’s so so so happy . he keeps it on his dresser and when he gets out of bed before you , he will put it in your arms so you won’t miss him .

jesse cromeans

jesse walks in like he owns the place . the prettiest most expensive bear is his . only the most fancy suit ( he will later order a suit from some fancy designer for his bear ) . he does the heart ceremony , smiling at you the entire time and bumping your hip with his . he promises that he’ll get a chrome heart to put inside of the bear later . and you best bet that jesse gets everything . sun glasses , boots , socks , underwear , roller skates , back pack . his bear is spoiled to shit . you’re is too , and you almost wanna laugh at the look on the other customer’s faces when the price rings up . jesse was being so showoffy that he forgot to get a birth certificate or name his bear .

bubba saywer

much like with tommy you can’t really bring bubba to build a bear . but unlike tommy , you already know all of bubba’s favorites . you know he loves textures , so the body , each limb , the head , and the tail are all different fabrics . different sensations so he can have those little stimming moments . you know he likes things extra soft , so that’s how you fill it up . during the heart ceremony you have bubba do so many cute little things and he is more than happy to bounce around and babble . then you have him close his eyes and sew the heart in . when he opens them his eyes light up . and when he feels over the bear he is in utter heaven . it becomes his stress reliever and cuddle buddy . and you’re so happy he finds so much comfort in it . bubba will be giving you so many kisses as a thank you .

billy loomis & stu matcher

it’s pure chaos . they’re messing with the kids , putting things out of their reach , debating on what animal or bear to get . but they are the most creative . billy gets a bear , stu gets a bunny . billy gets his stuffed medium full , stu barely makes his stuffed at all . stu over exaggerates every fucking heart thing , billy just smirks and makes everything filthy despite the gasps of mothers around you . billy dresses his bear up like a bad ass punk , stu give it a dress and tries to make a thong for it . billy names his bich fuker and stu names his fuking bich . you don’t know how you made it out of the store without being kicked out but somehow you do . later , at lunch , both of them disapear only to suddenly see the stuffed animals pop over the table as they give you a weird stuffed animal porno scene that you try not to die laughing over .

vincet sinclair

surprisingly , vincent will go into town with you for this venture . and even more surprising , he will go maskless . his long locks will cover the damaged half of his face , and he might look just a bit annoyed with how crowded it is in the store and how loud it is . he’s used to peace and quiet and metal music . he spends a long time deciding on a stuffed animal , even if he doesn’t think that he’ll put it up anywhere . he tries and does convince you to only get one to share . you’ll both build it together . he choses two and lets you get the choice in which one to get . he does the heart ceremony with you , giving a soft look to you , amused at how much fun you’re having , memorizing the way you look so he can sketch it later . you both decide to try and dress up in cozy clothes , a sweater and pants and socks . you name the bear vincent jr and vincent shakes his head , looking at you amused and presses a kiss to your temple .

bo sinclair

bo is annoyed as fuck to be there and is glaring at the kids , calling them brats and ankle bitters . he doesn’t act like he cares , and much like vincent just wants to get one . he isn’t made of fucking money . though he does get pissy when you don’t pick the bear with golden curl fur and you end up changing it with hitting his chest with a limp bear hand . he talks down to the bear builder because at first it’s too soft , then it’s too fucking hard , and then there’s too much stuffing taken out . you end up tipping the poor girl when his back is turned . he almost fucking faints when he sees how expensive everything is for clothes so you only get one white shirt . you then convince him to get a pair of socks because that’s what bo wears when he’s being lazy . he names it ankle bitter . a few days after you get the bear you can’t find it and you think it might have been thrown away , and then you see it in bo’s garage on a top shelf holding a wrench .

lester sinclair

lester has a lot of fun . once he makes it inside he gets pumped and asks if he can give his to jonesy . you both decide that your gonna get on each for her . lester gets her a bunny because of how much jonesy loves them . its absolutely adorable . the bear builder has and issue understanding lester’s slurred country talk , and it makes you want to laugh so hard because it’s obvious they’re from out of state . you end up just doing your best to translate and only laugh harder when lester starts laying it on thicker for a laugh . the bear ends up between limp and medium , a good fluff for a cuddle and chew toy . he dresses the bunny up as you , saying that it’s good for jonesy to have a little version of her daddy’s love . and you can’t help but think lester is fucking cute . he doesn’t name the bunny . later , after you decide to eat in the mall , lester says he’ll be back and goes to the bathroom . when he comes back he hands you a little bear that is dressed up like him and tells you that he wanted to make you something to hug on to when you missed him too much .

jacob goodnight

jacob is nervous , overwhelmed . you go during a school day in the morning so no one is really around . he doesn’t what to do or what to chose , but decides on one that has eyes that can be removed , you understand that he has a bit of an issue so you promise that you’ll put pretty patches over the eyes when you get home , he’s very relieved by this . now , your boy is usually pouty or neutral looking , but watch him light up and smile during the heart ceremony . he takes everything to heart and is so happy . his bear is medium fluff with most of the fluff in his tummy . he takes his time cleaning it , and picks out a very basic outfit . just a plain shirt and shorts . he names it jacob , after himself and wants you to hold it , thinking that you look so cute with two soft stuffed animals in your arms . later , he’ll try to make matching cross necklaces for both your bears . he also wants to come back and make a bear each for all his dogs .

martin ( 1977 )

this shy boy is extremely excited and nervous at the same time . he’ll be quiet , glancing towards you and back at his bear , one that is pure white . he does the heart ceremony , shy as hell about it , whispering the words and such . but the further into the store the more he comes out of his shell . he smiles and stands close , looking at clothes and wanting your bears to match . they both end up looking cute and fancy , his a girl he names angel , and he tells you it reminds him of you . he keeps it in his room , often looking at it when he thinks and misses you .

carrie white

this girl is excited , eyes bright and smile wide and sweet . she picks out something soft and pink and colorful . she doesn’t want her bear to be plain , no she wants her to be beautiful and stand out . you can’t help it . you put your own bear away so you can spend all the money spoiling this happy girl you have . she does everything with gusto , even doing it with some shy kids . she’s so lost in the moment that it’s wonderful , she really needed this . her bear is so soft , nearly limp , and dressed in a pretty yellow sundress with ribbons on her ears . she names it sunshine .

[yoshkeii]

Ushijima Wakatoshi hcs!

࿐ character: Ushijima Wakatoshi

࿐ genre: sfw, nsfw

࿐ requested by: a lovely supportive friend <3

⌦ sfw first, nsfw last

⌦ Nsfw includes, top-dom!ushijima, sub-bottom!reader. Continue at your own risk.

A/N: i simp for this man. i actually simp for a lot of characters its unbelievable. but this one. this man. yeah. again, kinda self-indulgent like my tsukii one- im sorry,,

══════ SFW ══════

★彡 Since we all know how Ushijima talks in the anime, he probably doesn't have the best social cues. When being in a relationship with him it might be difficult for him to break through that barrier of communication. He might say things along "will you teach me?", "was that good?", and stuff along those lines. So its your job to show him the ropes! It's a up and down hill path but Ushijima will do it to make the relationship last long and anything to see that little adorable smile on your face.

★彡 Honestly some nicknames he will have for you might derive from plants and nature. Such as "Honey(comb), Pumpkin, Sprout, Fern, Clover," but the classic nicknames that are normal to relationships would be "Babe/Baby, Prince, Love, Beautiful/Handsome," etc~ He likes to stick with the planty ones since he believes it fits someone smaller than him.

★彡 Will definitely take advantage of your size difference (depending on your height, yknow when yknow. i myself is like 5'3/5'4 so i feel the short pain.)

★彡 Like he will ruffle your hair which always ends up getting messed up, he will pick you so fucking easily like you weigh nothing to him, definite big spoon cause he always loves to wrap his arms arounds you since he noticed how safe it makes you feel, comparing and teasing about your hand sizes too is a common occurrence. Just his palm against yours. Sometimes you guys mess around with the flashlights on your phone to create hand-shadows and you always try to adjust your hand for your shadow to be Ushijima's size. He chuckles at the adorable attempt too.

★彡 Continuing on the size difference, he will let you sit on his lap as he watches you do whatever infront of him. No matter if its just scrolling through social media, watching videos, watching you play games, a movie, a video call? He's there. Sometimes will silently nuzzle his face into your hair, neck, shoulder or the crook between your shoulders. If he's feeling like it, he might also plant a surprise kiss on your neck or shoulder. It sends a quick jolt and shiver down your spine whenever he does because it's so unlikely-

★彡 OKAY BUT- the thought of jealous Ushijima would not be common thing knowing how calm and composed this man is, but he is also not good at describing nor showing emotions. But- Him catching you wearing someone else's jersey, hoodie, or jacket might flip that switch. He would just brush it off at first after awhile, before he slowly breaks. Giving you his own clothing in the end, which always ends up oversized based on how this dude is built. This would honestly be the only chance or time you will see this man be jealous its kinda scary- like- Ushijima are you okay honey?

★彡 Ushijima isn't the one to be into nicknames too much, but when you call him by the given nicknames you have for him... ohhhhhhh maaaaan its gives him butterflies. And generally he can't understand feelings too well so he wouldn't know how to deal with it and maybe overthink it- Please comfort him if it goes to far- He'll need it-

★彡 Like the Tendou chapter, you would most likely be closer to Tendou since Ushi and him are close anyways! You'll also have decent relationships with the team and maybe act like the motherly type to them to keep those boys in check. Goshiki may awkwardly talk to you to see if he needs to be in a relationship to be the new ace yada yada (lil baby looking up to your husbando though is cute-)

★彡 Ushijima may not be the best at social cues, but ohhh man this dude can be poetic as hell unintentionally. He has his ways of setting up words and his surprisingly sets of word choices astonish you at some point, and of course you get confuse sometimes- Understanding poems can be hard as hell okay??

★彡 When seeing you stressed or overwhelmed with any situation, he'll bring you into a hug for who knows how long. Just him seeing you like that devastates him, same goes for a single tear coming from your face will make this man go in his overprotective mode. He'll rub your back or head to calm you down, some specks of kisses along your face and maybe your arms too. He doesn't let his hand wander anywhere else when cuddling either so you are in safe hands with this man everytime he has his arms around you. They are just like safe warm walls bro.

★彡 He's the type who will keep attention on the smallest of details about you. He'll buy you small things like stickers, utensil, items, etc that you thought were cute when browsing or something. Ushijima likes to hear about your interests and thoughts because he loves to see you nerd out over passionate topics, and sometimes he'll just doze off and just stare at your face as you talk. Admiring you so fucking much, he's just softly smiling at you till you ask "what Toshi-?"

══════ NSFW ══════

★彡 Most of your passionate moments always start with kisses. They are usually or might as well always be slow, soft and passionate. He'll try his best to ask for consent in the most intimate or romantic way possible, with just a soft reply or the brush of his thumb on your bottom lip. Or he might aswell just stare at you till you say sumn-

★彡 He's not the type for PDA, since he personally thinks it should be behind doors and walls. So if you do anything that will.. yknow... flip a switch in this man. He'll try to keep composure n calmness till both of you are in a private spot, this man will kabedon or pin you against the wall and smother you with love n affection. At this point, he can't keep his hands to himself and often wanders which is unusual for him. So do things wisely or are you just a lover for punishment.

★彡 Some kinks this man will have: definite daddy/captain kink, degrading/praising (depends on his mood or how you are acting in the.. act-), extreme dirty talk, overstimulation maybe?, honestly can be into BDSM or sumn along the line, little bit of foreplay too.

★彡 You definitely know this man can get hella rough and strong while doing it. Which he of course uses it as an advantage because he's a fucking huge ass dom. Try to take control at least once, he'll do an uno reverse card on you and have you begging moments later. Even if you're on top, he still has control. He'll use his strong grip to pull you down or to make you move how he wants you too, His grip is so strong, it leaves nail marks in your hips n thighs that make you complain to him about it. But Ushijima just will look at you with no regret.

★彡 Ushijima uses his voice to his biggest advantage aswell. He knows he can rile you up with just a deep husk of his voice, especially when he speaks in your ear. His hot breath brushing against as he speaks sweet nothings to demanding whispers only you can hear. It just makes you melt and submit to him like magic, and he adores that to the max. He'll also might bite your ear as a tease too-

★彡 He's very demanding in bed. Ordering you around. Him being a very serious person outside of the room follows him into the bed.

★彡 Favorite place to do it? Just in the private walls of eachother's home or dorms.

★彡 Favorite position? He has a few selected one, but him carrying you will messing your insides up against a wall... yeah that one.

★彡 He loves, loves seeing your face during the act. He'll just stares at you with a cocky smirk (no pun intended) as he continues.

★彡 Ushijima may be rough, but he's a king at aftercare. He loves to treat you so well after the act with cuddles, kisses, a possible bath or shower, massages. Anything to calm you down. Usually its just cuddles, seeing you ontop of his chest practically about to fall asleep. Knowing you are listening to his heartbeat and breathing, its a beautiful sight to him. If you are cuddling on your side, he'll softly pat your head and rub your back as you dose off to sleep before he falls asleep himself afterwards.

★彡 Motivation can vary, but he loves seeing you wear anything that shows your bare legs. Especially those thighs. Yes another thigh man. Just some high-thigh socks, tights, fitted sweatpants, anything that shows your curves n legs gets him rearing to go.

[twistedmusings]

Heartslabyul First Years Reacting to You not being able to sleep without something warm next to you during the winter. 

A/N - Drabble headcanons are weird to write for me but has anybody else done the thing where they stick their pillow in the dryer for a like a few minutes so that you can have something to hug at night? Just me? 

Now I think it is very obvious that I have a soft spot for Heartslabyul but if you guys would like to see the other First Years, drop me an ask! 

-You have recently started to fall asleep in class a lot more, not really being able to keep yourself awake because of the lack of sleep. You didn’t necessarily need anything special to sleep but ever since you were little you found it a great comfort to be able to sleep with a warm pillow beside you. Something that you don’t terribly have in Twisted Wonderland. 

-Leave it to Captain Obvious, Ace, to poke your side and immediately wake you up as you rub at the sore spot. 

-”Finally caught you falling asleep in class~ Have you been sneaking out lately, prefect?” 

-At first you want to keep quiet and not tell him about your predicament but tiredness overcomes you and you happen to let it spill that you haven’t been sleeping properly due to the lack of weight next to you in bed. 

-Ace blinks before looking away, tapping his cheek as he tells you how he didn’t think that you were seeking that sort of company before you immediately correct him,telling him that you had meant that you wanted an extra pillow.

-Cue the laughter. 

-”I didn’t know you were the kind of person to need to sleep with teddy bears! Is Grim not enough for you, Yuu! Or do you need something fluffier!?” 

-You want to throw books at him until he shuts his mouth but you end up just sighing and shooing him away, putting your head in your hands as you wonder if you could maybe sneak into Scarabia and steal some of their decorative pillows. 

-Ace certainly didn’t miss that response that you had given him. 

-Fast forward to you getting ready for bed in Ramshackle, trying to think back to any activities that could make it easier for you to fall asleep. Maybe some tea and a really boring book?

-Just as you were about to head upstairs there was a knock on your door. To your surprise, the one behind it is none other than the Heartslabyul student looking at anything other than you as he held a pillow under his arm. 

-There is nothing but silence between the two of you before he finally speaks up. 

-”Are you going to let me in or not?” 

-Ace starts spitting excuse after excuse as to why he came here today. You couldn’t fall asleep in class because then who would help him with notes? He would feel bad if you got yelled at by Crewel since you already weren’t doing great in that class anyway! He had an extra pillow in his room anyway and with the night getting colder and colder he didn’t necessarily want to walk all the way back to his dorm so now you owe him a favor and he is going to cash it in right now, please and thank you. 

-And if you thought it was awkward on your doorstep, prepare for a good two minutes of both of you standing on opposite sides of the bed and wondering just what the sleeping arrangements for today were.

“Do...do you want to sleep here?” 

“If that’s the only choice I guess I have--” 

“Cause there’s other rooms.” 

“Oh.”  

-In the end he goes to the bathroom and you slip under your covers, shivering from the cold as you hug Ace’s pillow to your chest. As embarrassing as it was to admit, your eyes were already rather heavy from just the feeling of pressing your cheek against something warm. And it smell’s like Ace too. It smells like regular old shampoo but also a hint of cherry soap. You can’t help but smile as you think about how this dork would use scented soaps. Just the smell was giving you such a sense of comfort, enough to fall asleep to. 

-You shiver when you feel him raise the covers, his knee on the mattress as you turn your head slightly to ask what he needs yet he seems to answer your question by making his way inside and laying his arm across you in a way that was just annoying enough for you to find it adorable. 

-”Other beds were fucking cold.” 

-You sleep better than you had since you first arrived in this crazy world, eventually turning around to lay your head on his arm and press your cheek against his chest. Warmest body pillow you’ve ever had.

-He finds you asleep in the library, head on some books as you catch up on any possible sleep available to you. Cue him being instantly worried. 

-Unlike Ace, you smile when you see Deuce and immediately wake up, telling him that you are fine and that you were staring at a book for so long that you kind of just...drifted off. He doesn’t seem to buy it at first but the moment you start to explain the situation a bit more he is already sitting down and nodding along as you talk. 

“Can you not sleep without something next to you?” 

“I know. It’s embarrassing but...I don’t know. Ramshackle is always so cold and all the other beds are so bare that I can’t just grab a pillow out of nowhere. Even if I could they would probably be ice cold.”

-Cue Deuce going through a set of options in his head as he watches you struggle to go back to reading whatever textbook you were supposed to be reading for class. You are always finding yourself as the helper of most situations and for once he wants to be able to say that he helped you out as well. 

-The words are out of his mouth before he truly realizes what he is saying, turning to you and asking if you wanted to borrow his pillow for a while. You blink at him before offering him a tired smile.

“Deuce you are...way too nice to me.” 

“I--It’s just an idea! We have enough pillows at Heartslabyul so I don’t mind giving one to you, or maybe two? I can maybe sneak out three…” 

-You stop him before he starts trying to plan a heist on how to get more pillows out of Heartslabyul, saying that one pillow would be more than enough and that you would find a way to heat it later. It is fun whenever you plan a sleepover with your Heartslabyul friends, telling Deuce that if he wants to invite Ace he can but that you don’t terribly want him knowing your little conundrum. 

-Fast forward to nighttime with you lighting some candles in order to start warming up the room. A knock at the door stops you and you quickly go down the stairs to greet your friends. Grimm was already asleep due to some exam he had during last period that had knocked him out so if you were going to play cards you should do it upstairs--

-It’s just Deuce. You ask him what happened and he just rubs the back of his neck, telling you that Ace had gotten in trouble with Riddle again and was forced to stay behind in order to go over rules 500 to 530 with Riddle sitting right beside him. You both smile at the image that would make before you invite him inside. 

-So it wasn’t really a sleepover now but more of a ‘I gave you my pillow and it is too cold to walk back so...I guess I’m staying here’ sort of deal, Deuce staring at the bed as if it was a live snake ready to strike at any moment while he put his bag down. 

-It wasn’t embarrassing at all or nerve wracking at all. Why would it be? You were both friends and had gone through a lot together. You had built a bond and he was proud to call you his best friend! Just because you looked so different under the candlelight, hugging the pillow to your chest and moving your arms on it up and down so you could warm it up, it changed nothing between you and him! 

-One of the candles snuffed out, one of the ghosts apologizing as he passed from your room to another and leaving you both in the dark as Deuce looked away from you. Yeah, he couldn’t do this. He was just going to grab his stuff and go to sleep on the couch but your voice stops him from moving, telling him that you would go to the bathroom to finish brushing your teeth and that he could change and lay down while you were gone. 

-Deuce felt his face turn several shades of red as his head hit the pillow and waited for you to come back. His eyes were wide open as he looked at the window so hard it would have surely caught on fire if he were to stare at it any longer. He knew you would be gone for only a few minutes but waiting for you felt like torture! What if he fell asleep and stretched out on the bed, it would defeat the entire purpose of this!

-The door opened, the mere sound leaving him as stiff as a rock as you raised up the covers and slid inside, complaining about how you hated having to wear your school socks to go to sleep. He can only nod and keep his back to you, feeling the back of your hands press against his back as you hugged the pillow that he had given you to your chest. 

“Hey Deuce?” 

“Yes!?” 

“Thank you so much. You have no idea how much you are helping me.” 

-His feet don’t pull away when they feel yours press against his soles, instead choosing to close his eyes and pull his foot back so that it was pressed up right up against yours. While the beating of his heart certainly didn’t help, your breathing seemed to lull him to a pretty gentle sleep that seemed to wash away any sort of embarrassing emotions he had felt before. 

-Only to have them surface right back up when you two are walking in the morning and you mention how you hadn’t expected him to be so warm that his foot over yours was enough to keep you warm during the night.

[hwangsies]

LIMERENCE

(n) the state of becoming infatuated with another person

pairing: hyunjin x female reader

summary: you haven’t spoken a word to hyunjin since he ghosted you after a fun new years eve together, so what’s the worst that could happen when fate (or chaeryong,...well, same thing) pairs you up for a road trip across the country?

warnings: e2l (ish), university student!au, non idol!au ,a lot of swearing. alcohol consumption,long flashback, mentions of infidelity, hyunjin is a giggly sweetheart, smut as in: dom!hyunjin, unprotected sex (wrap it up luvs),fingering, oral (f recieving), slight choking, praise kink, hand & strenght kink (manhandleing oopsie), slight overstimulation, hyunjin is really enthusiastic about consent (as you should be, periodt), reader is nervous and scared of hyunjins big pickle (ew i hate myself), motel sex (but it’s not trashy i promise!)

8.6 k words ,meaning grab a snack and a drink,

and enjoy!<3

---

"alright everyone" your professor rubs his hands together "that was it for today... i hope you all have a great break and i'm very exited to see all of you again next semester. hopefully in person again" he chuckles.

You and your classmates exchange goodbyes with him before one after the other exits the zoom call.

"fuck" you sigh after closing your laptop and lean back on your bed.

"you did it girl" your dormmate chaeryong claps, at which you giggle before shifting your eyes to her on the other side of the room.

She's sitting on her bed, folding her clothes before putting it in her suitcase thats placed in front of her.

"finally" you sit up and watch her roll up a pair of socks.

"my last class was yesterday and mrs kim teared up" she giggles "it was kinda cute not gonna lie"

"oh god" you snicker.

"hey did you find someone to take to yongin?" you ask, remebering chearyong talking about wanting to find someone to share gas expenses with in exchange for a ride to her hometown.

"oh yea, i did" she turn to you "i think you know him, seo changbin?"

You furrow your brows in thought, you feel like you've heard of the name.

"he's a music major, one year above us, hes also from yongin" she continues folding a pair of jeans "funny you'd ask actually cause he told me one of his friends was looking for a ride to seoul, isn't that where you're going?"

"Yea i was thinking about finding someone honestly because gas is really fucking expensive if you aint rich" you say, placing your laptop onto your nightstand.

"Mm you aint gotta tell me girl" chaeryong mumbles, folding a sweatshirt.

"so who's that friend?" you ask, stretching out on your bed.

"he's in his grade, hyunjin"

Your neck almost cracks from how fats you whip your head “hwang hyunjin?”

"Oh yea" she points at you "you know him?"

"unfortunately" you huff.

"o-oh, what"s the tea?" your roommate wiggles her brows at which you shake your head.

"nothing much really" you sigh, leaning back again "he's just like the most arrogant and stuck up fuckboy ever"

"wow, well thats not nothing" chaeryong laughs "any reason as to why you think that?"

"you could probably ask any girl on campus and she'll tell you the same" you scoff.

"really girl?" chaeryong squints an eye at you playfully "cause i've only heard of him being hot but never of him being a hoe. And you know i'm the first to know the hot gossip" she winks.

Laughing defeatedly, running your hand through your hair.

"it's just- we hit it off at the campus' new years eve party, like really hit it off- at least thats what i thought"

"oooh spill it spill it" chaeryong leaps over to your bed to sit at the end of it.

"well there's really not much to spill, i gave him my number and he was talking all that smack about taking me out and stuff aaand to make a long story short i never heard from him again"

"well" chaeryong speaks slowly, biting her lip guiltily "i dont think you'll be very happy about me giving changbin your number for him, then?"

"you did what???" your eyes almost pop out of your head.

"sooorryy" she jumps up from your bed, clutching her hands apologetically "i didnt know"

"aaaaarghh" you whine, burying your face in your pillow.

"maybe he won't even text you though" chaeryong tries to console you, but the damage is already done...

-

unknown number - hey i got this number from changbin, i heard you're driving up to seoul, i'd love to tag along if you're looking for someone to share expenses with -recieved at 9:12 am

You huff looking at the message on your phone.

After chaeryong had left last night you really convinced yourself that he couldn't possibly dare to reach out to you.

But here you are reading his message after just waking up, and your day is already ruined.

you - who is this? - sent at 9:56 am

You know who it is, but you're not going to give him the satisfaction of thinking that you do.

Scoffing when he answers almost immediately.

unknown number - this is hyunjin, did i reach the right person? - recieved at 9:57 am

You have two choices at this point.

1. be petty and bitter about a boy who probably doesn't even remember you.

Or 2. move on and help someone who is also just trying to get home and also maybe get some closure.

So you curse your mother for rasing you so well and suck it up.

you - yea sure, i planned on leaving tomorrow at around 6 pm - sent at 10:02 am

Damn you and your common human decency.

he sus - oh okay great :) i only have one suitcase and a backpack btw so i wont take up alot of space or anything - recieved at 10:05 am

he sus - also i feel weird bc i dont know ur name or anything changbin literally just sent me the number and nothing else lol, also 6 sounds good should we meet at the main building then? -sent at 10:06 am

You're quite honestly not shocked that he seems nice over text because he was the same when you met on new years eve.

you - sure lets meet at the main building, my car is white and my name is y/n - sent at 10:09 am

Cringing as you press the send button because you are 99% certain he won't answer anymore; not that you'd care, obviously.

he sus - alright y/n see you tomorrow at 6 then :) - recieved at 10:14 am

You raise your brows when your phone lights up with his message, does he really not remember you?

Was he that drunk?

Well, it doesnt matter because you don't want to pay for all this gas alone and he seems to be the next best option to fix that.

So you shrug it off and get out off bed to run some last errands and start packing.

-

Your heart is beating unreasonably fast when you take a turn towards the main building at 5:55 pm the next day.

Calm down y/n it’ll just be 5 hours and who says you have to talk to him?

However you do know deep in your heart that you only wanted to arrive just a little early so you could complain about him being late.

That plan got cut short because your eyes fall on him as you pull up to the main building.

He’s- oh my god he’s blonde. You stop your car and he looks up at you.

“it is you!” hyunjin smiles at you when you step out of the car.

“who else would it be?” you ask, a little irritated at his reaction.

His face drops a bit when he sees you clearly annoyed by him, but the doesn’t blame you; he’d be mad too.

You open your trunk for him to put his weirdly small suitcase into, looking him up and down as he lifts it inside.

He’s wearing dark baggy pants and a windbreaker jacket, the top part of his chin-length blonde hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail.

He seemed to have bulked up as well, shoulders looking broader than what you remember.

The hair is different than the jet black hair that you remember on him, but it suits him very well; to be honest he would look good in any hair colour, not that you’d care though.

The first thirty minutes of the ride go by agonizingly slow and in complete silence.

When you drive onto the freeway you can’t take it anymore and mumble something among the lines of ‘wanna listen to some music?’.

You don’t wait for an answer, pressing the radio button right as you finish your sentence.

“uh, actually” hyunjin starts, his hand lifting to turn the radio back off, your eyes snap towards him, is he serious? Turning off your radio in your car?

“I wanted to address this situation” he says rather quietly.

You scoff “what? You realized that this is awkward just now?”

“no- I mean- yes I understand why you would think that but I just really want a chance to explain myself” he stutters.

“explain yourself” you repeat after him before mumbling “sure because there’s so much to explain”

“listen, I know you think I’m an asshole who just ghosted you b-“

“listen, I can handle rejection, you could’ve just said that you weren’t looking for something serious and I would’ve accepted that. The thing I’m mad about though is you literally making false promises and shit” 

Hyunjin blinks at you “can I please just explain to you what happened?”

You let out a long huff “sure” you wave your hand “go ahead”

“when you and your friends left at around 4, you wrote your number on my arm with your eyeliner, correct?” he asks.

Glancing over at him, you nod.

“after you where gone, I was already pretty drunk but then my friends decided to drag me with them to a different party that was still going” you see him fiddling with his hands in your peripheral “well I got super fucking shitfaced at that party and ended up puking on this one guys shoes”

You raise your eyebrows and hold back a laugh, which he notices.

“its okay you can laugh” he chuckles as well.

“anyways that guy was not very happy about it and busted my lip before kicking me and my friends out, so then back in the dorm my roommate sat me in the shower because I was full of alcohol, blood and puke”

“ew” you chime in.

“and when I woke up the next morning your number was gone” hyunjin looks over at you “we don’t have any mutual friends, I didn’t know what your major is so I couldn’t even asks for you in the administrating office, and then the covid lockdown happened and here we are”

“you called the administrating office?” you look over at him, he nods a little smile on his stupid pretty lips.

“yep, so, sorry to tell you but your eyeliner is not waterproof” he jokes at which you playfully knit your brows at him.

“believe me, I wanted to text you. I really wanted to take you out; and when you sent me your name yesterday I didn’t know if this was a lucky coincidence or if you’re a different y/n, that’s why I didn’t say anything” he explains.

You take a deep breath as you realize you have to apologize for going off on him just now, you believe him but you hate apologizing.

“well, I feel like an ass for going off on you like that after hearing all this” you chuckle “I’m sorry” you eye him shortly before looking back on the road.

“it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize I get how it looked, very much sus” he laughs with you.

-

Coming back to your car after you took a bathroom break on a highway rest-stop, you see hyunjin sitting in the drivers seat.

“what do you think you’re doing?” you smile as you sit down on the passenger seat.

“I thought maybe you’d like to sleep since its dark already and you’ve been driving for almost 3 hours” he suggests while putting on his seatbelt.

“well, I wont say no to that” you shrug and put your seatbelt on as well.

“so when did you go blonde?” you ask curiously.

“uh- around end of june” hyunjin chuckles “it was a dare if I’m being honest but I ended up liking it and got it redone”

“oh okay” you check out his profile once more and follow his hair with your eyes “I like it”

“yea?”

“yea, which is weird cause I’m usually not into blondes at all” you wonder.

“hm” he grins “must be me then” he says before winking at you.

“pfff, in your dreams” you rebuttal playfully, at which he laughs and mumbles a ‘true’.

You don’t react to it because you think your ears are playing tricks on you.

“hey I have a question too” hyunjin says.

“what’s up” you lean your arm against the window as you look over at him.

His face is slightly lit by the lights of the other cars, no seriously, how can a side profile be so perfect?

“why did you even agree to take me with you if you thought I ghosted you?” he grins.

You laugh “well, I’m a nice person and I know not a lot of people there are from seoul and my mom raised me right, okay?”

“okay okay” he giggles, the way his eyes crinkle when he does makes you smile everytime.

“or…did you have such a good time with me on new years that you just had to jump on this opportunity?” he quips, carefully stealing a peek at you.

“sure, why do you think I was so upset when you didn’t text” you feign sadness.

The both of you laugh before falling into comfortable silence.

When looking outside your window, you think back to said new years eve.

-(flashback)

“oh my god” you said, stepping into the big hall that usually is the universities gym. But whoever planned this outdid themselves.

A dj was placed on one of the tribunes and a whole buffet of drinks and punches on the other, as well as a big disco ball hanging from the ceiling, making the room shimmery and shiny.

You could see people coming out of the doors that connected into the universities hall on one side and into the locker rooms on the others, as if it wasn’t already packed.

“this is fucking insane” lia, your roommate from last semester, squeaked while grabbing your arm and jumping a little, her voice overpowering the blasting music..

“I wanna get fucking hammered tonight” you turned to her.

“oh babe don’t worry,  we didn’t come here to drink soda” she laughed before spotting some of your other friends.

About five minutes before midnight you and some more girls gathered at the buffet of drinks and started doing shots.

You all had decided that instead of kissing someone at 12 o’clock you’d ring in 2020 with a shot, because alcohol can’t cheat on you.

You were laughing at something when some people started the countdown.

10!

9!

8!

7!

6!

5!

4!

3!

2!

1!

“HAPPY NEW YEAR”

Every one shouted and celebrated in union as you downed your shot.

“happy new year babe” lia hugged you after downing hers.

“happy new year!” you shouted into her ear, full of relief that this stressful year was over.

“lets do another one” she grinned widely after your whole friend group had shared their wishes with each other.

A girl you didn’t know very well handed you another shot, just as you emptied your glass you heard a guy yell something before stumbling into your back.

“jesus” you stumbled forward a bit before turning around, ready to throw someone a dirty look.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” in front of you suddenly stood a tall dark haired young man with almost too perfect facial features, frowning a little out of concern.

“nothing happened” you smiled, taking a step towards him so he’d hear you better.

“I’m glad” he replied, a grin slowly stretched across his handsome face

“I’m y/n” you giggled as you held out your hand.

His eyes crinkled with his smile as he took your hand in his “I’m hyunjin” he said before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“okay guys let her have her fun lets go over there” you hear lia usher your friends away from behind you.

“happy new year y/n” he said before instinctively pulling you a little closer to him when a group of people passed behind you.

“happy new year hyunjin” you replied, a slow blush creeping on your face from how intensely he was taking in your appearance.

“well yea happy fucking new years to me for running into you” he joked before taking a sip, your brain wasn’t able to function anymore so you just giggled and nervously pushed your hair behind your ear.

It had been way too long since you’d talked to a guy, especially someone as attractive as him

“you’re fucking stunning” hyunjin complimented you and lifted your hand with his to make you spin for him, to which you complied because you took a long time getting ready and always appreciate being appreciated.

“thank you” you were crimson red by now but hoped he wouldn’t see because of the dimmed lights.

“how come I’ve never seen you around? I would’ve remembered you” he tilted his head.

“oh this was my first year here and I live on the other side of campus so…” you nodded slowly “but yea I would’ve remembered you too”

He grinned before downing his drink and putting on the table next to the both of you.

“wanna dance?”

That’s how you found yourself on the dance floor with hyunjin pressed against your back.

Slowly but surely the alcohol made you braver; and it didn’t take long for the dj to play perfect songs to grind yourself against his toned body to.

His reaction was instant, hands gripping even harder at your waist and his own movements matching your own.

You looked back at him just to have the air knocked out of your lungs, a barely there sheen of sweat was covering his forehead; his pupils were dilated and his lips were slightly parted before his tongue swiftly swept over his lower lip.

He looked like sex on legs and moved like it too.

His plump lips formed into a grin when he noticed you staring, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol running through your system but you so desperately wanted to kiss him.

“can’t stop looking at you either, pretty” he lowered his head to mumble against your cheek before pressing a kiss there.

“you’re so goddamn sexy” you blurted out as you turned around to face him, running one of your hands through his dark hair before positioning them on his firm chest.

He threw back his head as his chest vibrated with laughter.

“don’t laugh at me” you laughed as you locked eyes again.

“you’re cute when you’re drunk” hyunjin brought one hand to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“you dont even know me sober” you giggle “also i’m not drunk!” you protested playfully, his hands found your waist in the meantime to pull you flush to his body; at which you gasped almost inaudibly.

“oh really?” he looked down at you, clearly amused “didn’t you drink like 5 shots half an hour ago?”

“well well well, I didn’t know I had an audience” you countered, looping your arms around his neck.

Hyunjin prodded at the inside of his cheek with his tongue before looking away for a swift second, slightly embarrassed because he just exposed himself.

You felt yourself gush a little when he licked his lips again after bringing his gaze back to you.

“so you almost knocked me over on purpose?” you grinned even bigger when he shook his head laughingly.

“listen” he chuckled, leaning down unnecessarily close because you could hear him perfectly fine but you weren’t going to complain.

“I actually didn’t run into you on purpose, that was my friends doing after he saw me notice you” he said.

You mouthed an ‘ahh’ while nodding, feigning disbelief.

“I’m serious” hyunjin laughed “I still have to thank him later; I would’ve probably chickened out”

He got quieter at the end of his sentence, his eyes jumping to your lips when you wet your lower lip with your tongue quickly.

“i-m glad he pushed you then” you replied, trying to hide the fact that your heart was pumping your blood in record time.

“yea” he inched his face closer to yours as you tilted your chin up to meet him in the middle “me too”

His eyes switched from your lips to your eyes one more time before closing the gap between the both of you.

His lips were firm but soft at the same time in the way they moulded against yours, you swore you could hear lia squealing from somewhere but maybe you were just hearing things.

But when his tongue touched yours in the most tentative way you lost contact to what was going on around you, slinging your arms tighter around his neck and deepening the kiss.

A tiny groan escaped hyunjins throat when you carded your fingers through his hair to tug on it and release some of the adrenalin that rushed through you.

He was slow and explorative and let you take control from time to time before sucking on your lower lip and making you loose it.

You didn’t know how many songs had passed; to be honest you didn’t even remember what song was playing when you started kissing.

All you knew in that moment was hyunjins lightly flushed cheeks, swollen lips and dark glistening eyes.

“let’s go somewhere else?” he questioned in a whisper when you bit your lip, nodding at his question.

He grabbed your hand in his before manoeuvring the both of you through the dancing and celebrating crowd.

Before you knew it, hyunjin pulled you into the entrance hall of the university where multiple people had the same idea as you.

Couples scattered across the big room, some just talking, most of them however making out heavily.

“come on” he softly tugged at your hand, smiling when your gaze falls on him.

He lead you up the big flight of stairs onto a floor of the building you’ve never been to, stopping in front of a random room before pulling a small set of keys out of his back pocket.

After unlocking the door, he opened it to let you step inside.

It was a dance studio, the wall right across from you was just one huge mirror through which you could see the big couch in the back of the room and the water dispensers next to it.

“why do you have the keys for this room?” you asked, giggling.

Hyunjin grinned as he closed the door “I’m a dance major, we all have keys for the practice rooms”

“that’s so cool” you beamed “I wish I could dance” you looked around the room, walking towards the mirrored wall a little bit.

“you were moving just fine earlier” hyunjin came up behind you, nimble hands finding your waist as he looked you up and down through the mirror intensely, now that you were under the bright lights of the room.

You couldn’t help but to smile a little at that, the tight little glitter dress that you had chosen really did accentuate your curves in the best way possible, paired with the cute black heels which made your legs look way longer than they actually are.

“but that was like club sexy dancing, you know?” you elaborated.

“hm” he hummed amusedly “whats wrong with sexy club dancing?” you turned around to him.

He didn’t look to shabby himself, all in black, a chic button up with some jeans and a belt; accessorized with rings on his pretty fingers, a  dainty silver necklace and some small earrings.

Some might say he was underdressed, but the way he carried himself with such confidence, and that face of his must for sure be a panty dropper, you thought.

“nothing but… I don’t know, teach me something” you pleaded.

“what do you want me to teach you?” he laughed.

“I don’t know a pirouette or something” you suggested, laughing as well.

“okay” he grinned “this is like the base stance” he positioned himself correctly before looking at you to see if you were following his instructions.

“mhm” you hummed, replicating what he was doing.

“and then you get momentum with one leg to be able to swing yourself around, like this” hyunjin explained before executing a perfect pirouette and ending it back in the base stance.

“that was fast” you chuckled.

“your turn” he grins before moving behind you “try to keep your eyes on yourself in the mirror otherwise you’ll loose balance”

“okay” you said unsurely.

“I’ll catch you if you fall” he winked at you, at which you scoff playfully before carefully swinging yourself into a pirouette.

You landed on wobbly legs but before you could tip over hyunjin stabilized you with a firm grip on your hips.

“you’re a natural” he grinned at you through the mirror.

“well thank you” you playfully feigned cockiness before he spun you around himself.

A few seconds pass of the both of you taking in each others features in silence, the only thing you could hear was the faint music of the party downstairs, before hyunjin spoke up.

“can I kiss you?”

You fell into giggles again as you let your forehead rest against his collarbone before looking up again “we’ve kissed before”

“yea but that was like a moment and I don’t want to catch you off guard or anything” he mumbles cutely.

“mm” you nod “ you can kiss me”

And with a smile, he does.

You weren’t surprised when his first gentle ministrations turned into more desperate ones rather quickly because you could feel the warmth spread in your lower regions as well.

He walked the both of you over to the couch, only parting from your lips when he sat down on the black leather material of the couch.

“come here, pretty girl” he took your hand to help you straddle him, your dress riding up but you couldn’t care less if he saw your safety shorts, and he didn’t seem to care either by the way he feverishly connected your lips again.

His hands travelled down to squeeze at your waist before smoothing over your ass and grabbing a handful of each cheek, you moaned into the kiss when you realized how big his hands were.

Your own hands were squeezing at his shoulders before one moved into his soft hair while the other softly rested on his cheek.

The kiss was messy and desperate, teeth clinking together and tongues licking at each other.

The things that riled you up the most however were his groans and praises.

“you’re so fucking sexy” he groaned before moving down to kiss at your jaw and down your neck.

A needy whimper escaped from your throat when he started suckling the sensitive skin at the base of your throat.

“fuck-hyunjin” you moaned when his teeth grazed over your clavicle.

Your hands fumbled before landing on his belt, at which he pulled away from your skin, gently taking your hands off of his belt.

“I’d love to take you out first, actually” his pretty kiss swollen lips twitched up into a shy smile as he pants.

“oh” you were taken aback, you were almost certain that this was something regular for him “I thought-“

“I mean if you just want to fuck we can fuck of course” he chuckled ��but- I actually think you’re really cute and fun and I’d love to get to know you better”

Your mouth stood a little agape “uh- I mean-I” you stuttered, your brain not functioning properly because of the alcohol running through your veins but also him!

“its okay if you just want, you know-“

“no!” you blurted out all over sudden, making him flinch a little “sorry, uhm- its just been a while since I had a date” you smile apologetically.

His expression visibly brightens “that’s okay” he giggled “so is that a yes?”

You grinned, leaning in to just barely brush your lips with his, his head twitching upwards in an attempt to connect them fully.

“yes” you whispered, at which he smiled brightly before pulling your in for a kiss by your neck.

-(flashback end)

“y/n”

“hey, y/n” you grumble when you feel someone gently rocking your shulder.

“mmm-what?” you peek your eyes open just to see hyunjin smile at you.

“good morning sunshine” he teases as you sit up in your seat when you realize you aren’t driving anymore.

“just kidding its not morning” he says as you look around your car, realizing your on a parking lot.

“where the fuck are we?” you whip your head towards him “did you bring me here to kill me? kidnap me?”

“wha?- no” he laughs “no, I’m sorry. Right after you fell asleep there was this huge traffic jam because of an accident and we stood there for almost 3 hours so I drove off and found this” he points out the rear window, where you see a small motel building.

You look back at him before checking the time on your phone, seeing it was indeed almost midnight.

“fuck” you swear to yourself.

“I didn’t know if you wanted to keep driving because I was getting tired so I thought maybe-“ hyunjin starts rambling guiltily, not wanting you to thing that this was an attempt to get in your pants.

“hey” you put your hand on his shoulder after taking off your seatbelt “this is good, you made the right decision I think we both could use some sleep” you say.

You each take your suitcases and walk inside, it’s an old building but it looks pretty clean for a motel off of the highway.

“good evening you two” an old lady sits behind the, probably just as old, reception.

“good evening, could we get 2 single rooms, please” hyunjin speaks up politely.

“I’m afraid we only have 2 double bed rooms available, if you’d like to take them, they will however be more expensive than the rooms for one” she explains politely.

“its okay, we’ll take one of those, please” you decide, hyunjins head snapping towards you.

“is that okay?” you ask him.

“yea- sure” he nods.

“alright, room 301 it is” she hands you the key before stating that you’ll have to checkout before 12 pm and what the room costs.

“do you accept card?” hyunjin asks at which the friendly old lady nods before taking his card and swiping it through her little machine.

“I’ll venmo you half of what you paid” you say after unlocking room 301.

He tsk’s at you before shaking his head “don’t, it was my idea so I’ll pay”

“are you sure?” you ask closing the door behind you when he turns on the lights.

“yup-oh” he exclaims.

“this room is cute” you say, it’s small but the walls are a soft sunflower yellow, decorated with paintings of autumn leaves .

The bed looks clean, and when you smell the mouse gray blankets and pillows, they smell fresh as well.

“stop smelling the pillows” hyunjin laughs.

“I’ve never been to a motel, I thought everything would be dirty or ancient” you confess comically.

He chuckles as he comes out of the small bathroom “the bathroom is clean too, don’t worry” he says when you look at him expectantly.

“I’ll sleep on the floor if you want” he offers as you open your suitcase to get out your toothbrush and pj’s.

“it’s fine, hyunjin I’ve slept in the same bed as a male before” you joke.

“well how am I supposed to know that?” he counters, at which you throw your pj shorts at him out of reflex.

When you realize what you had done it was too late, he was already holding them out in front of him before giggling.

“very cute choice” he mocks the small white shorts with red hearts all over it.

“stoop” you whine, trying to fish it out of his hands but he holds them over his head like a kindergartener.

“I remember why I don’t like you” you pout, crossing your arms.

His face drops alongside with his arms “I thought we were past that”

You use his moment of weakness to snatch your shorts out of his hands “gotcha”

-

“see I told you I was gonna take you out” hyunjin beams at you before looking down at the various snacks he took from the motels vending machine, which were laying in between the both of you on the bed.

“and so luxurious too” you joke, crossing your legs.

“only the best for you” he grins when you open a pack of fruit jellies.

“you know, I was thinking about new years” you say “ and I realized that it was your fault!”

Hyunjin throws his head back as he groans playfully “why?”

“if you hadn’t lost your phone when we got back downstairs, I wouldn’t have had to write my number on your arm; or you could’ve just given me your number and I could’ve text you. But you didn’t even know your own number!” you laugh in reminiscence.

“listen” he laughs “I was drunk and you’re hot! I couldn’t think” he defends himself before taking a bite off a chocolate bar.

You blush a little but play it off with a laugh.

“but yes, I admit, it was indeed my fault” he dramatically holds his hand in front of his eyes.

“yeeees!” you exclaim victoriously.

“I’m kidding though” you pat his knee “I forgive you”

“I’m glad” he smiles.

After the both of you are done eating way too many sweets, you find yourself being really comfortable when talking to hyunjin.

He’s funny, doesn’t seem like he’s full of himself and just in general seems like a very kind person.

“I thought you were a fuckboy when me met” you confess, looking at him.

Propped on one elbow looking down at you, while you lay on your side towards him, his face illuminated only by the little lights on each of your nightstands.

“you did?” he asks confusedly.

“yea” you chuckle “you were so confident and…sexy I don’t know” you place your hand over your face in embarrassment.

“oh that was the liquid courage talking, I’m usually pretty shy” he shakes his head smilingly when you peek through your fingers.

“don’t lie” you push his shoulder softly.

“I’m serious!” he laughs.

“you were the first guy to approach me at a party” you pause “like ever”

“no way, you’re lying now” he furrows his brows.

“nope” you shake your head.

“but I was really close to not talking to you as well, I’m sure there were many guys before me that just didn’t have the liquid courage, like I did” he speculates.

“maybe” you say.

“have any exes?” he asks after a few seconds.

“yea, one”

“well how did you meet him?”

“he showed me around on my first day of freshman year, I transferred like in the middle of the first semester so I wasn’t with any other freshmen” you tell him.

“why’d you break up if I may ask?” hyunjin asks carefully.

“oh we were only together for like three weeks, you can’t even call I relationship. He used me to make his hot ex jealous and cheated on me with her” you say “but hey they’re back together at least” you scoff.

“i’m sorry” he mumbles at which you look up at him.

“it’s not your fault” you chuckle.

“well, still no one should feel that way” he says “you know that you were way too good for him right?”

You nod.

“what about you? Have any exes?” you ask back.

He snickers “only one in seoul”

“why didn’t you last?”

“it was a long distance situation, she was super jealous and couldn’t trust me. which I can understand to a certain degree but everytime I went out she wanted me to facetime her and show her what kinds of people were there with me. That was just too much” he explains.

“wow” you chuckle “that doesn’t sound fun either”

Hyunjin shakes his head “nope, but hey we got rid of ‘em, didn’t we?”

“yea” you giggle “plus if I hadn’t broken up with him I would’ve probably never gone to the new years eve party”

“I guess I owe him something then” he grins as you scooch up on the bed.

“can I kiss you?” you ask after a few seconds of silence.

“hm?” hyunjins eyes almost spring out of his head.

“I don’t want to catch you off guard” you grin as you repeat his words from the night you met, sitting up.

He licks his lower lip as a grin stretches over his face as he sits up as well “do your worst”

You get up on your knees to shuffle over to him, when you get close enough hyunjin grabs one of your thighs and lifts it over his legs so you’re straddling him.

Once you sit down on his lap, your eyes lock again and you’re once again baffled as to how someone can be so god damn attractive.

His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips expectantly, a shaky breath leaving his lips when you lean in.

Your lips connect and it feels like all the pent up energy of liking him since that night finally gets set free, sparks glowing behind your lit and his hands leaving a trail of fire where ever they go.

They squeeze at your thighs and waist, pulling you impossibly close to himself.

A whimper tears from your throat when his tongue licks at yours, he tastes like chocolate and what could only be described as him.

He moans into the kiss when you tug at the blonde locks that weren’t pulled back into the ponytail; before pulling the hair tie out of his hair to free it and finally card your fingers through all of the blonde glory.

Before you realize what’s going on, hyunjin lifts the both of you before dropping you on your back and crawling above you.

The fact that he just lifted the both of you from a sitting position as if you weigh nothing makes you feel all types of hot.

“you’re so hot holy shit” you pant as you push his long hair out of his face.

“ditto” he only grins before attaching his lips to your exposed collarbone and sucking a bruise into the skin.

“take it off” you moan as you tug on the dark blue calvin klein shirt he’s wearing.

His lips release the skin of your collarbone before sitting up to pull the shirt over his head.

If your mouth wasn’t already open from your heavy breathing, you would’ve opened it now because his body is more sculpted and toned than you had expected.

Your hand lifts to smooth over his abs, muscles flexing as he connects your lips again.

His one hand slides from your waist up to cup one of your breasts, gently palming the soft flesh.

“I know I said I wanted to take you out first but-“ he mumbles against your lips.

“you bought me a lovely dinner” you interrupt him, threading your fingers through the hair that’s falling down into his vision.

He grins, dropping a short peck to your lips before his the grin gets wiped off his face “I don’t have a condom with me”

“I’m on the pill” you let him know “I got tested before the lockdown and I haven’t been with anyone since soo…”

“yea, me too, I was tested a few months ago” he nods.

You nod back, biting your lip as you absently play with his hair.

“do you trust me?” hyunjin asks, observing your demeanour.

“yea- yea I do I’m just nervous” you smile awkwardly.

“no” he coos before kissing you “why are you nervous?”

“just haven’t been with anyone for a while” you confess.

Hyunjin nods understandingly “if you don’t want to do this we’ll stop”

“no I really want to” you look into his eyes as confidently as you can.

“okay” he smiles, planting his lips on yours again.

“can i?” his voice gives you goosebumps when he mumbles against the sensitive skin under your ear, his fingers slowy undoing the loose knot of your heart shorts.

“yes” you say when he locks eyes with you.

“I love these shorts” he softly presses a kiss to your knee, trying to calm your nerves a little, before he gently rocks your hips to pull them off of you.

You blush a little out of embarrassment but smile when you lift your hips to help him.

“cute” he whispers when he see’s your panties have a little bow on the front.

He chuckles when you hide your face in embarrassment, pulling you closer to him again by your thighs before you let him kiss you again.

“can I take this off too?” hyunjin whispers, softly pulling at the fabric of the tank top you’re wearing, at which you nod.

You are still wearing a bra when he pulls it off so you take it into your own hands and unclasp your bra.

Your nipples stiffen a little at the sudden exposure to air, as well as to hyunjin’s admiring gaze.

“fuck” he muses when palming your breasts in his big hands, gently pushing them together an running his thumbs over your nipples.

A whimper involuntarily leaves your lips when he wraps his plump lips around one of the perked up nubs and sucks gently.

“so fucking pretty, princess” you feel yourself pathetically clench around nothing at his praise.

You feel one of his hands wander downwards to provide some friction for you, he slots his lips against yours when you tentatively roll your hips against his hand.

Hyunjin feels his cock get even harder when an almost desperate moan tumbles from your lips against his. So he ads a little more pressure and starts circling your clit with two fingers, your sighs of pleasure mixing into the kiss.

“you’re so sensitive baby” he whispers as he parts his lips from yours “can I go down on you?” he grazes his lips over your chest, looking up at you seductively.

You nod as you bite your lip, hyunjin placing a few kisses on your tummy before shortly sitting up to also free you from your soaked panties.

The first stripe he licks up your slit, and how he swirls the tip of his tongue around your clit expertly sends you to heaven.

His hands are gripping your thighs to prevent you from closing your legs, your hands are tangled in his hair and the sheets.

“hyunj-fuck” you cry out when his tongue enters you.

He carefully prods one finger at your entrance “is that okay?” he asks, his voice hoarse and dripping with lust.

“yea” you sigh.

Once you adjust to one finger, he adds a second one, curling them upwards to search for that specific patch inside of you.

“yes-fuck right there” you moan when his fingers press onto the sweetest spot inside of you, tugging at his hair a little harshly. But you feel him moan against you, getting lost in your taste as he sucks your clit in between his soft lips.

Your hips buckle against his mouth as your eyes roll backwards, feeling the warmth of your orgasm approach rapidly.

“fuck fuck yes-hyunjin” you cry out just before he tipped you over the edge with his skillful ministration, your orgasm rushing up your spine and into your head, endorphins spreading everywhere.

A cry of pleasure fills the room as your thighs starts trembling with the aftershocks, clamping around his head when he drives you into overstimulation.

“oh-shit-“ you pant as you softly pushed on his forehead to get him away from your clit, his fingers still inside you, guiding you through your high.

He nibbles on your inner thigh apologetically. You can still hear your heartbeat in your ears after hyunjin removes his fingers from you and sits up, gently holding your legs together to help you calm down.

“fuck” you mewl, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

He’s wanted to do this for so long and there you are, with all of your naked glory in front of him.

While he’s daydreaming about you, you sit up and start fiddling with his sweatpants.

“you want more?” he quips, once he realises what you’re doing, leaning in to kiss you.

“mhm” you humm into the kiss affirmitavely when his hand holds you close to him by your jaw.

With a quick last peck to your lips he simultaneously shimmies the soft black sweats and his boxers off of himself.

You apparently visibly gulp at the sight of his cock because hyunjin smirks cockily “like what you see?” as he crawls above you again, his lips finding yours again and not waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know if you’ll fit” you mumble when he suckles at the soft nook of skin under your ear.

“we can stop here” he offers softly before locking eyes again.

You shake your head as you reach down to fist his length, slowly pumping it and smearing the few drops of precum around.

“no, you’re just really big” you huff with a shy smile on your lips at which hyunjin groans.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, you know?” he mutters against your lips before kissing you deeply, his hand smoothing over the slope of your waist before coming up to gently pinch at one of your nipples.

Eliciting a soft high pitched moan from you, this only spurs him on.

Rolling his tongue against yours desperately and making you taste yourself before sinfully sucking at the wet muscle.

All the while you’re stroking him with your small hand before cupping his balls, as if he didn’t already feel like he’s gonna blow his load way too early.

“please” you whine, guiding his reddened tip towards your entrance.

Hyunjin releases a shaky breath before replacing your hand with his, rutting his hips against yours a few times, coating his length in your wetness.

This already had your toes curling, suppressing a whine as you lock your legs around his waist.

“tell me if it hurts, yea?” he breathes, only pressing inside you after you nod, dropping a kiss to your swollen lips.

“fuck” he swears softly, tucking his face in the crook of your neck when he breaches your tight walls for the first time.

Your fingers tighten in his hair at the back of his neck when a subtle sting flares up inside of you.

“ah-“ your body flinches a little when he presses further inside, hyunjin notices, observing your expression before kissing your cheek and sitting up slowly.

“you’re doing so good, baby” he lifts his thumb to his lips, swiftly kitten-licking the digit before bringing it to where your bodies join.

Gently rolling your clit under his thumb to distract you from the pain.

“you look so perfect like this” his other hand travels over your stomach to gently squeeze at your breasts “all spread out for me”

You whimper, arching your back when hyunjin thrusts into you carefully; the pain slowly subsiding and the ache to be fully filled up by him growing exponentially when his cock rubs against your g spot.

“hyunjin” you moan, gripping onto his hand, which is resting atop your breast.

“yes baby, I’m here” he groans at how tight you feel once he’s balls deep inside of you, abandoning your clit to grab you by the hips for leverage.

His other hand resting on your cheek now, after a few trusts you moan “harder, please”

Hyunjin groans and fulfils your wish, at one particularly harsh thrust, you latch your lips around his pointer and middle finger, sucking at them.

“oh my god-that’s so fucking hot” he grunts through clenched teeth.

His cock dragging along your walls deliciously, filling you up to the brim as you hum around his slender fingers in pleasure.

“you like my hands that much baby?” his jaw is clenched and the grip on your waist is rough , the contrast to how sweet he was just a few minutes earlier had you clench around him furiously.

“fuck-“ he breathes when you nod to the best of your abilities, eyes wide open and holding his gaze.

You only release his fingers from in between your lips in favour for a loud high pitched moan when his other hand finds your clit again, rubbing harsh circles into the bud.

“-gonna cum-huynjin” you dig your nails into his biceps, eyes squeezing shut.

“yea?” he grits through his teeth the fingers that were previously trapped in your mouth now wrapping around your bared throat.

Not squeezing tightly, just resting there as if to show you that you’re his now.

Your thought gets confirmed when he rasps “you’re gonna date me after this, right pretty girl?”

You do look so pretty right now, tits bouncing and skin slapping because of the fast rhythm that he’s snapping his hips into yours, not to mention the subtle sheen of sweat that’s coating the both of you.

A desperate breathy chuckle tumbles from your lips “ yes-yes fuck” you feel your second orgasm creeping up on you.

“cum for me princess, all over my cock” he urges you on, his tip hammering into the sweet spot inside of you repeatedly before you crash into your second high of the night.

Your body convulses in pleasure as you call out his name mixed with profanities, your toes curling so hard you’re not sure if you can ever uncurl them again, and your nails probably leaving painful indents in his skin.

His thumb on your clit slows down until you grab his hand for him to stop, his hand around your neck grabs your free one, holding both of your hands over your head now.

“so good, baby” he mumbles, kissing your lips; mostly just breathing into each other as he rocks you through every wave of your orgasm.

Hyunjin looses himself in you not long after with a guttural moan and his eyes squeezing shut.

You coax him through it when he rests his face against your neck again, running your fingertips through his damp hair and over his broad back, muscles tensing under your gentle touch.

i“don’t fall asleep on me” you whisper sneakily, grinning when he chuckles against your neck, tickling the soft skin there.

He props himself up again to scan over your features, pushing some hair out of your face before kissing you tenderly.

“you okay?” his hand resting at your temple as he gently runs his thumb over your hairline.

“more than” you assure him, cupping his cheeks to pull his lips onto yours again.You think you can never get enough of his lips, anything about him for that matter; not when he makes you feel so cared about and safe.

“so does this mean we’re dating now?” he whispers after he has cleaned you up and tucked the both of you in bed.

“hmh” you nod your head sleepily, positioned on his bare chest.

“so I can spoon you once we fall asleep?” he asks, grin evident in his voice.

“you can spoon me but you can’t wake me up in the middle of the night if you get horny” you mumble jokingly, enjoying his fingers running down your spine as your eyelids get heavier.

“okay” he giggles softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before you whisper your good nights to each other.

And as promised, he doesn’t wake you up in the middle of the night because he’s horny.

It’s you who wakes him, because after 10 months of wasted time, you have a lot of catching up to do.

-

a/n: oml this is my first ever long fic so pls pls pls give me feedback, i had so much fun writing his even though it made me feel even more single but hey :))))

allsooo i waited til after work to publish this and i just saw i hit 500 followers?!?!?! thats crazy to me omg i started this like 2 months ago and so many ppl liked my stuff so much that they decided to follow me?? so i just wanna say thank u thank u thank u for hitting the follow button even though im very unorganized and everything i do is spontaneaous and not thought out well. but hey i guess there is a reason that u followed me so thank u!

(i’d love if u sent me an ask with the first one of my writings that u stumbled across, and how <3 ...only if u want tho no pressure) 

anyways thank u so much for reading if you’ve made it this far! i hope you have a great day/ night! much love

-aj

(this is a work of fiction and does not represent the real actions of stray kids or hwang hyunjin)

[slashersins]

Ok so, one of the best dates (in my opinion) is going to build a bear and each getting a bear! Like picking em out together n doing the little heart ceremony (and also putting scents in I love the scentss) putting the hearts in each others bears bc love~ picking out their clothes together, naming em, then afterwards grabbing something to eat! (Taking a picture together n setting it as your lockscreen) its wonderful and you get a bear to remind you of your partner!! 10/10!! -Scooby

jason voorhees 

this boy will dead ass put on his best clothes , his gloves , a hat , a face mask , sunglasses , and come to build a bear with you . he may not speak but fuck he is so excited to do this with you , and you look so fucking happy and excited . he will without a doubt do everything with such dedication and seriousness during the heart ceremony that the bear builder is a bit nervous . he gets his build a bear soft , barely stuffed so that it falls over when it’s sitting . he picks out an outfit similar to his , a bit sad there is no mask or little machete . he’s having so much fun and you can tell . and oh god , there’s little kids who can’t quite reach things and he is helping them , and somehow there are now two kids sitting on either side of him helping him make his birth certificate for his new stuffed animal and jason is just so happy and enjoying himself despite the fact that the children’s mothers look slightly terrified . he ends up naming his bear mr fluffington due to the help of the children who decided jason was their new best friend . the cashier takes a picture of you on the polaroid and jason is very happy with it . he may or may not make a small machete for mr fluffington so he can gaurd the cabin . 

michael myers 

somehow you got michael maskless and dressed in normal people clothes and inside of a mall . he’s intimidating , hair pulled back into a messy bun , face full of stubble , blue eyes cutting into everything and everyone . he doesn’t seem to care , picking his build a bear after staring at them . his bear is completely over stuffed and hard as a rock . he doesn’t move . doesn’t sing . barely holds the heart before dropping it onto the back instead of stuffing it in and watching it fall to the floor . the bear builder tries to pick it up , but michael steps on it , basically telling them to sew the bear up without it . after wards he takes the heart and pockets it . he doesn’t care what the bear wears . the bear has a black shirt and some jeans and that’s it , the clothes barely fit , and it is almost impossible to put them on . when he names it , he just sits at the computer and stares . he names it “no” . later that night , you find “no” stabbed , half of it’s stuffing on the floor leaving a trail to his body . michael is on the floor sewing the heart back inside of it . 

brahms heelshire 

you have to get one of those do it at home yourself build a bear maker kits shipped to you , but you try and give brahms the full experience . it actually scratches an itch of indulge on a childish activity that he didn’t know he had . and the fact that the bear that comes in the kit is rather small , makes him happy . he gives his bear to doll brahms . making it was fun , you taking on the role of peppy bear builder . he thought it was cute . his bear is medium full , and he wanted it dressed in a suit . his name is bearington the third . when you asked if he wanted to help you make your bear he lit up , using his adult voice and treating you like a child . he made you do a million and one things during your heart ceremony and you couldn’t help but laugh at how silly he was . all in all it was a super cute fun time and now bearington and doll brahms are never apart . 

thomas hewit 

you can’t really bring him to build a bear as i don’t think they existed in the time period he lives in , buuuuut you can make him one . you have him pick out a fabric he likes , not giving him any clue as to why . you ask him how soft he likes things . he tells you like his pillow . a little on the firm side . you make a little heart and you have him do a little ceremony with it to put his love in it . he humors you but looks at you with a raised brow as if you’re the silliest person he’s ever met . you ask him what his favorite outfit is and make him pick out more fabrics to get a clothes set out . when you present him with the bear he is shocked . he tries not to tear up . tries not to cry , but he’s so so so happy . he keeps it on his dresser and when he gets out of bed before you , he will put it in your arms so you won’t miss him . 

jesse cromeans 

jesse walks in like he owns the place . the prettiest most expensive bear is his . only the most fancy suit ( he will later order a suit from some fancy designer for his bear ) . he does the heart ceremony , smiling at you the entire time and bumping your hip with his . he promises that he’ll get a chrome heart to put inside of the bear later . and you best bet that jesse gets everything . sun glasses , boots , socks , underwear , roller skates , back pack . his bear is spoiled to shit . you’re is too , and you almost wanna laugh at the look on the other customer’s faces when the price rings up . jesse was being so showoffy that he forgot to get a birth certificate or name his bear . 

bubba saywer 

much like with tommy you can’t really bring bubba to build a bear . but unlike tommy , you already know all of bubba’s favorites . you know he loves textures , so the body , each limb , the head , and the tail are all different fabrics . different sensations so he can have those little stimming moments . you know he likes things extra soft , so that’s how you fill it up . during the heart ceremony you have bubba do so many cute little things and he is more than happy to bounce around and babble . then you have him close his eyes and sew the heart in . when he opens them his eyes light up . and when he feels over the bear he is in utter heaven . it becomes his stress reliever and cuddle buddy . and you’re so happy he finds so much comfort in it . bubba will be giving you so many kisses as a thank you .

billy loomis & stu matcher 

it’s pure chaos . they’re messing with the kids , putting things out of their reach , debating on what animal or bear to get . but they are the most creative . billy gets a bear , stu gets a bunny . billy gets his stuffed medium full , stu barely makes his stuffed at all . stu over exaggerates every fucking heart thing , billy just smirks and makes everything filthy despite the gasps of mothers around you . billy dresses his bear up like a bad ass punk , stu give it a dress and tries to make a thong for it . billy names his bich fuker and stu names his fuking bich . you don’t know how you made it out of the store without being kicked out but somehow you do . later , at lunch , both of them disapear only to suddenly see the stuffed animals pop over the table as they give you a weird stuffed animal porno scene that you try not to die laughing over . 

vincet sinclair 

surprisingly , vincent will go into town with you for this venture . and even more surprising , he will go maskless . his long locks will cover the damaged half of his face , and he might look just a bit annoyed with how crowded it is in the store and how loud it is . he’s used to peace and quiet and metal music . he spends a long time deciding on a stuffed animal , even if he doesn’t think that he’ll put it up anywhere . he tries and does convince you to only get one to share . you’ll both build it together . he choses two and lets you get the choice in which one to get . he does the heart ceremony with you , giving a soft look to you , amused at how much fun you’re having , memorizing the way you look so he can sketch it later . you both decide to try and dress up in cozy clothes , a sweater and pants and socks . you name the bear vincent jr and vincent shakes his head , looking at you amused and presses a kiss to your temple . 

bo sinclair 

bo is annoyed as fuck to be there and is glaring at the kids , calling them brats and ankle bitters . he doesn’t act like he cares , and much like vincent just wants to get one . he isn’t made of fucking money . though he does get pissy when you don’t pick the bear with golden curl fur and you end up changing it with hitting his chest with a limp bear hand . he talks down to the bear builder because at first it’s too soft , then it’s too fucking hard , and then there’s too much stuffing taken out . you end up tipping the poor girl when his back is turned . he almost fucking faints when he sees how expensive everything is for clothes so you only get one white shirt . you then convince him to get a pair of socks because that’s what bo wears when he’s being lazy . he names it ankle bitter . a few days after you get the bear you can’t find it and you think it might have been thrown away , and then you see it in bo’s garage on a top shelf holding a wrench . 

lester sinclair 

lester has a lot of fun . once he makes it inside he gets pumped and asks if he can give his to jonesy . you both decide that your gonna get on each for her . lester gets her a bunny because of how much jonesy loves them . its absolutely adorable . the bear builder has and issue understanding lester’s slurred country talk , and it makes you want to laugh so hard because it’s obvious they’re from out of state . you end up just doing your best to translate and only laugh harder when lester starts laying it on thicker for a laugh . the bear ends up between limp and medium , a good fluff for a cuddle and chew toy . he dresses the bunny up as you , saying that it’s good for jonesy to have a little version of her daddy’s love . and you can’t help but think lester is fucking cute . he doesn’t name the bunny . later , after you decide to eat in the mall , lester says he’ll be back and goes to the bathroom . when he comes back he hands you a little bear that is dressed up like him and tells you that he wanted to make you something to hug on to when you missed him too much . 

jacob goodnight 

jacob is nervous , overwhelmed . you go during a school day in the morning so no one is really around . he doesn’t what to do or what to chose , but decides on one that has eyes that can be removed , you understand that he has a bit of an issue so you promise that you’ll put pretty patches over the eyes when you get home , he’s very relieved by this . now , your boy is usually pouty or neutral looking , but watch him light up and smile during the heart ceremony . he takes everything to heart and is so happy . his bear is medium fluff with most of the fluff in his tummy . he takes his time cleaning it , and picks out a very basic outfit . just a plain shirt and shorts . he names it jacob , after himself and wants you to hold it , thinking that you look so cute with two soft stuffed animals in your arms . later , he’ll try to make matching cross necklaces for both your bears . he also wants to come back and make a bear each for all his dogs . 

martin ( 1977 ) 

this shy boy is extremely excited and nervous at the same time . he’ll be quiet , glancing towards you and back at his bear , one that is pure white . he does the heart ceremony , shy as hell about it , whispering the words and such . but the further into the store the more he comes out of his shell . he smiles and stands close , looking at clothes and wanting your bears to match . they both end up looking cute and fancy , his a girl he names angel , and he tells you it reminds him of you . he keeps it in his room , often looking at it when he thinks and misses you . 

carrie white

this girl is excited , eyes bright and smile wide and sweet . she picks out something soft and pink and colorful . she doesn’t want her bear to be plain , no she wants her to be beautiful and stand out . you can’t help it . you put your own bear away so you can spend all the money spoiling this happy girl you have . she does everything with gusto , even doing it with some shy kids . she’s so lost in the moment that it’s wonderful , she really needed this . her bear is so soft , nearly limp , and dressed in a pretty yellow sundress with ribbons on her ears . she names it sunshine . 

[tofeartheunknown]

Back to December

Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Request by @caritobbg

Not edited.

I only made the call because I had no other choice. I was relieved to hear Sam's voice on the other end of the line. After all, it's been three years since I've spoken to either of the Winchester boys.

"Hello?" Sam's groggy voice caused an involuntary smile.

"Hey, Sam. It's Y/N." I heard shuffling and assumed, along with the groggy greeting, I woke him up. "Sorry for calling at..." I looked at the alarm clock, "four in the morning. Oh God, sorry, I should call back later." I apologized. I lost track of time after midnight.

"No, no. It's really great to hear from you." I could hear the surprise in his voice. "What- ah, what's going on? Is everything alright?"

I cannot deny that I've missed the brothers. In particular, the one I wanted to avoid calling at all costs. I'm not sure I could have had this conversation with him, if he would have answered the phone, that it.

"Everything's fine. Well, not completely. Listen, I'm in Denver, and there's a Demon in town. I've been here for two weeks and I can't seem to catch him. Bodies keep dropping. I've narrowed down his hunting ground, but I think I need some help here." I bit my lip, awaiting his response. I mean, come on. I was with them for five years before leaving, no phone call, text, email, or letter, then all of a sudden call and ask for help.

"Why didn't you call Dean?" Seriously? That's his response. I couldn't stop the sigh that escaped.

"You know why. Besides, he probably wouldn't pick up the phone." His grunt told me he agreed.

"Alright, tell you what. Text me what motel your staying at and I'll talk to Dean." He sounds more awake now. I hear water running and assume he's making coffee.

I couldn't hold back my shock. "Really?! That's great, thank you!" I stood from the small couch.

Sam let out a small laugh. "Yeah, no problem. We'll be there tomorrow."

"See you then." I hung up after that, hoping to finally get some sleep.

I remember that night as if it just happened. Sam, Dean, and I just finished a hunt the night before. Dean and I decided to celebrate by getting a motel room for just the two of us. Sam understood out need to be alone and assured us he would be fine by himself for the night.

"This is amazing." I mumbled, cuddling closer to Dean on the motel bed. Porky's, Dean and, coincidentally my, favorite movie was playing on the TV.

"Yeah, we haven't had time for this in months." Dean agreed, his hand rubbing my arm that laid across his torso. "Too bad we have to pack up tomorrow."

This was news to me. I didn't think there was already another case. I hoped to spend at least a few more days like this with Dean.

I sat up at looked at him "Why so soon? We just finished here." He didn't seem to notice my disappointment.

"Well, Babe, monster don't take days off." Dean said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You know that. You grew up in this life, just like Sam and me."

My disappointment turned to anger. "Dean, you said it yourself, we haven't had any time to ourselves in months. We can afford to take some time off and relaxe." I stood from the bed, my tank top and jeans lay beside my feet.

"No, we really can't." Dean's raised his voice, not enough to disturbed the rooms next to us, but enough for me to realize an argument is starting.

"Five years, Dean. That's how long we've been together, and nothing's changed! It's the same thing year after year! Is this all I'm gonna get?" I was fuming. He doesn't understand that I want more than he seems to want out of our relationship.

This isn't the first time we've had this argument. But this is the first time I lay it all out.

"What are you talking about?!" Dean asked, now sitting at the edge of the bed.

"I mean, it was fun for a while. Hunting all the time together. But that's all it is now! Sure we get these little nights, but... I need more." It's the first time I've admitted to him. "Let's be honest here, we're falling apart, Dean."

Dean scoffed, clearly oblivious to the issues we've had recently. We've drifted apart, mostly due to the fact that we haven't been on the same page in a while.

"So, what? You wanna get married now?" He asked, his arms spread and an eyebrow raised. It was my turn to scoff while pulling on my jeans.

"No, smartass! I want an actual relationship with you!" I shout, pulling my tank top over my head. I sat on the edge of the bed and shoved my shows on, not bothering with socks or tying them. I was far to upset to care.

"What do you think we've been doing all this time?!" Dean yelled, putting his jeans on, knowing I'm about to leave. " What do you want from me? I got you flowers, got us a room, and took you to dinner? I don't know what else to do!" He sounded utterly desperate for answers, watching me pack my duffle bag.

"I want to feel like I'm not the only one holding us together!" I spun around as I yelled. "It's always one hunt after the other with you! I get that it's what we do, but I can't do just that anymore!" I felt the tears fall before I felt the stinging in my eyes.

Dean followed me out the door, my bag on my shoulder. I didn't even notice Sam step out from him room next to ours.

"Where are you going?" Dean's voice was slightly panicked, our fights have never gone this far before.

"Anywhere but here." I turned back to him. His glossy eyes almost too much to handle. "I love you, but I can't live this life with you anymore. I need more than this, but it seems like you don't. I'm sorry..."

Dean, shaking his head, let his tears fall freely. "Don't do this, Y/N, please." He whispered. His hand came up to cup my cheek. I grabbed it and moved away.

"Goodbye, Dean."

I never spoke to or saw either brother after that night. Walking away has been my biggest regret. But, now I have to get ready to meet them at a diner in town.

The butterflies in my stomach are raging as I parked a few spaced down from the all too familiar impala and the two bodies leaning against it. It's now or never, and though never sounds like a much better choice, I know this has to happen.

I stepped out of my car and pulled my bag over my shoulder. Sam, unsurprisingly, was the first to greet me, walking up with a large smile. Dean wouldn't look up from the ground, knowing it was me. I can't blame him, I could hardly look at him myself.

"Y/N." Sam opened his arms, a bit hesitant, not really knowing where we stood. But I walked right into his arms fully returning this much needed hug. I really did miss this. Sam was like a brother to me, and it hurt walking away from him too. "It's good to see you." He said, pulling away.

"It's good to see you too." I smiled up at him before looking over at Dean. I do my best to control my breathing, ignoring the tightening in my chest. "Both of you." I finished, hoping the green eyes would finally catch mine. Unfortunately, it was a false hope.

"We should get inside" Dean grumbled, then he began making his way to the diner entrance. I frown, pushing against the moisture threatening to gloss over my eyes.

A hand landing on the middle of my back, I looked over to Sam who gave me a sympathetic smile. "Give him time, trust me." He assured me, guiding me through the doors Dean went through.

"The Lexicon bar" I handed Sam my notes while we waited for our food. Dean still hasn't said a word to me, and even though I expected nothing more from him, it still feels like a dumbell is sitting on my chest. Dean glanced over the papers as well, so at least he's taking this seriously. That hasn't seemed to change.

Sam handed the papers back and I slid them in my bag. "OK, so what's the plan?" He asked, shooting the waiter a short nod and thanks when he sat our food in front of us. He picked up his veggie burger, while I picked at a few of my fries and Dean didn't even touch his. If this was under any other circumstance I would be shocked.

"I was thinking I play bait." Sam opened his mouth to object, but I quickly continued speaking. "You two can keep watch and catch us as we leave. All victims were found in the back ally. All female, no specific type. All victims participated in the bars open mic, starting from ten p.m. to one a.m.. I'll go one tonight while you stake out the crowd."

"How are you sure he'll choose you?" It is the first time Dean has actually acknowledged me since they got here. My palms begin to sweat any throat grew dry. I took a gulp of my drink.

"Well I don't exactly, but I do know how I could appeal to him more." I picked at my food more, avoiding eye contact.

Sam and Dean glaced at each other. "After we finish we'll go to the motel and start preping." Sam said before biting into his burger, starting off a very awkward lunch.

"There's not a day that goes by where I don't think about Dean. I messed up. I walked away and it's the biggest mistake I have ever made. Now, seeing him, it brings everything back. I never stopped loving him, and I honestly believe that I will love him for the rest of my life. After the hunt, do you think you can take my room tonight. I need to get him alone, I need to apologize. I need to at least try to get him back. I don't want him to leave without knowing how I feel." I explained to Sam as we waited for Dean to gather the rest of what we needed for the hunt. I'm wearing a knee length (color) dress, my Demon knife strapped in it holster on my thigh.

"He hasn't been the same since you left." Sam started. "You thought he was obsessed before, he's constantly seeking out hunts now." Sam sighed, leaning against Baby's passenger seat. "He won't admit it, but these three years have been absolute he'll for him. I hear him say you name in his sleep at night." He looked at the open motel room door, watching Dean assemble his gun with devil's trap bullets, just in case. "He'd still go to the ends of the earth for you." Sam has absolutely no idea how much that crushes me, but also gives me hope that Dean will hear me out.

I wiped a fallen tear from my cheek just as Dean walked out, closing the door behind him. I've noticed the looks he's given me since I've changed clothes. "Let's get this over with." Dean mumbled while taking off his jacket. He handed it to me, knowing I was getting cold in the fall weather. I stared at it on my hands for a few seconds before pulling it on. Sam was right, he does still care. Before I could thank him he was already in the car. I got in after Sam, who shot me a knowing smile. Dean started the engine and we were on our way to the Lexicon.

Once we stepped inside our plan went into motion. I gave Dean his jacket back and made my way to the open mic sign-in sheet. There was only one other person on the list so far. I put down an alias and the name of the song I was going to perform. I've been thinking about it since we got to the motel earlier. I Taylor Swift's back to December came on the alarm clock radio as I got ready in my room. I realized how insanely similar out situation is to the song lyrics and decided it would be best to portray my feelings to Dean disguised in a song. It felt like it would be easier.

Once I got back to the boys we begin to briefly go over the plan. "Okay, Dean, when open mic starts keep an eye out for anyone talking to the participants after they sing. I'm second on the list." I explained. "Sam your on stand by at the front of the alley way out front. Dean or I will send a text when it's go time." I finished, taking a drink of the water Dean bought me, remembering that I don't like drinking on the job.

"Good luck." Sam advised, patting me on the shoulder before walking out of the bar.

"So, how are you so sure the demon will target you- and why can't we just let wait to see if he walks out to the ally with some else? Dean implored, he seemed concerned cause hope to swell some more in my chest.

"Every victim sang a heart break song of some sort." I answered, avoiding eye contact. Silence falls between us for what feels like forever, although it was about a minute. "Look, can we talk after-" Dean cut me off.

"We probably should be seen talking. It needs to look like you're here alone." Dean proceeded to take a sip of his beer before nodding over to the bar. "I'll be keeping watch at the bar." He stated, turning away and leaving me to watch him walk away. The same thing I did to him three years ago.

"Next up we have Diana Troy." The bar owner announced into the mic, holding out hit hand and helping me onto the right five by seven foot stage. I've spoken to him many times using this alias for the investigation. However, I'm not surprised he doesn't remember me he tends to take his ownership of the bar for granted most nights.

I muttered out a small "thank you," before adjusting the mic stand a bit. I tried not to think of the seventy or so eyes on me as the music started.

"I'm so glad you made time to see me

How's life? Tell me, how's your family?

I haven't seen them in a while

You've been good, busier than ever

We small talk, work and the weather

Your guard is up and I know why"

I see that night replaying in my head exactly how it has almost every night since I left.

"Because the last time you saw me

Is still burned in the back of your mind

You gave me roses and I left them there to die"

I could feel Dean's eyes without even looking for them. When mine found his the power of the chorus hit me hard.

"So this is me swallowin' my pride

Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night

And I go back to December all the time

It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you

Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine

I'd go back to December, turn around and make it alright

I go back to December all the time."

My eyes never left him until the song ended. I didn't even know I was crying until a tear fell onto my arm. As people clapped I made my way off stage and to the bar. As I was almost to the bar, some one grabbed my arm and spun me towards them. Bingo. We found out guy. Or, rather, out guy found me. Though there is no proof that he is the demon, I just knew it had to be him.

He wore a white dress shirt and black pants, his eye hung a bit loose on his neck. He looked like a working man, and had trusting, kind blue eyes. His short black hair slicked back with a little gel. He had olive skin and a lean figure. He looked harmless. It took restraint for me to not pull my knife on him now. I have to wait to get him outside.

"That was absolutely beautiful." He praised, his hand still on my arm. I sniffled, wiping away the remaining tears.

"Th-thank you." I mumbled, itching to remove his hand.

"My name's Gerard. What's your story?" The Demon asks with a charming smile. My brows furrowed at that.

"What do you mean?" I thought for a moment and decided to guess before he has time to answer. "With the song?"

'Gerard' nodded, leaning against the bar. "I don't mean to pry, but you seem really upset. I can only assume the sing meant something to you." He explained, finally removing his hand from my skin.

"I-uh..." I looked at the floor indecisive of what answer to give him. I could lie and make something up, or I could just tell him the truth. It's not like I'll see him again after tonight, so what harm could it do. "I messed up. A while ago. I left the one person I loved most in my life during a stupid argument." I took a shaky breath. "I don't think I can ever find someone who made me feel as alive as he did." I knew Dean could hear every word I said. He's standing a few feet behind us and it's not like this is a whispered conversation. I need to talk to him, so I need to speed this up. "I should just go." I moved past 'Gerard' only for him to grab my hand.

"Let me at least walk you to your car." His insisted in an innocent, concerned voice. "You never know who could be out there waiting for a vulnerable women to walk past them all alone. There are some real monsters out there" He pushed, the irony gave me chills. I nodded, letting him lead me towards the side exit. I stuck to my naive role and let his guide me without protest.

As soon as the door shut behind us, I was pushed against a wall and 'Gerard's' eyes went black. "Do I look stupid?" He glared at me. I just shrugged the best I could.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" I question with a raised brow. I didn't try to reach for my demon blade yet. I'm just waiting for the distraction.

The Demon put his hand up and made a fist. My throat tightened and my oxygen is cut off. I quickly brought my hands up to my throat, because that's what people do when they can't breath, even though it does absolutely nothing to help. I was beginning to panic until I heard someone yell.

"Let her go!" I was Dean's voice. I looked aver the the demon did and felt relief as oxygen began pouring back into my lungs. Dean's gun pointed towards the demon distracted him enough to let me go.

"Now, it that anyway to treat a lady?" Sam asks, standing next to Dean with his arms folded. I slowly pull the knife from my thigh holster and creep up behind the demon.

"Oh, so it's three humans against one demon I'm so-" I plunge the knife through his back watching it slice through to the other side. He lit up like a Christmas tree for second before going limp. I pulled the knife out and watched him fall onto his side. I quickly rolled him over and opened his shirt. There are four bullet holes in his chest surrounding the stab wound.

"How did you know?" Dean asks from above me. I look up to see him and Sam standing there and looking at the corpse.

"I had a feeling." I mumbled, I've learned to trust my guy over the many years of hunting; I tend to be right. "Let's clean this up." I muttered before helping Sam picked up the body and take it to Baby when Dean pulled up to the curb.

I slipped into the boys' room right after Sam left to get dinner. Dean glanced over, putting down the gun he was cleaning and standing from his chair. "Can we talk, please?" I stared down at the floor, my hands in my pockets.

"Did you mean it?" Dean's question caused me to look up. He must have seen the confusion in my eyes because before I could even respond he continued. "The song you chose. Did you choose it for me?"

I hesitated, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. "Yes. Just hear me out!" I was quick to stop any protests that may come out of his mouth. "I hate myself for walking out on you. It was the biggest mistake I've ever made. An-and if I could go back to that night I would have stayed. Since I left I haven't been sleeping well, I see you when I close my eyes and some night I still cry myself to sleep." I took a shaky breath, not caring to wipe my tears away.

Dean's eyes grew glossy with his own tears. "I wanted to hate you for leaving. But all I could do was hurt. People say it gets easier, but it never did for me. I've tought about you every day for three year, Y/N." His voice cracks and sobs break through my lips.

"I'm so sorry." I cried, covering my face with my hands. I was so distracted by my own pain that I couldn't here Dean making his way over to me. When I felt his arms wrap around my shoulders I just fell into him. I could tell he was crying by the way hid chest shook. I latched my arms around him tight. I never want to let go of him again.

We stood in each other's embrace for a while, feeling as thought we're the only thing keeping each other stable and upright. We we finally pulled apart we sat next to each other on the bed.

Things can't go back to the way they were, but at least now we can start picking up the pieces of one another, one day at a time. I'm never letting Dean Winchester go again.

Note- Not the best ending, I apologize , but I haven't written anything in forever, and this took me such a long time because of that.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 18, second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Hey OP where’s the funny header gif for this post? Sorry, it was murdered by an angst demon and the framing of these shots.

My Found Family Came to Find Me

Continuing our flashback from last time, we see Baby Wei Ying up a tree, refusing to come down because he's afraid there are dogs. Eventually he falls out of the tree, like a dumbass a child, and Yanli tries but fails to catch him. 

Unlike his grownup counterpart, Baby Wei Ying doesn't pretend he's unhurt when he is hurt. I'd like to put the change at Yu Ziyuan's door, but actually he admits to being hurt during his Gusu summer - he mimics Lan Zhan's stoicism when they're getting beaten, but it doesn't come naturally to him, and he whines a lot afterwards. 

By the time of the Animatronic Dog incident, however, he's laughing off obvious injuries that have secret trauma behind them. By the time he comes back, coreless, from the burial mounds, he won't confide in anyone about his hurts any more, except possibly Wen Qing.

Yanli carries Wei Ying, in a sequence that will be echoed much later in his life when Lan Zhan carries him (gifset here). While they head back, she tells him that Jiang Cheng has a bad temper and to ignore whatever mean things he says. This will also be echoed in the future, when Wei Wuxian says it to Lan Zhan after their argument with Jiang Cheng in the shrine.

Yanli also explains that Jiang Cheng loved his dogs and that he's been very sad since Jiang Fengmian sent them away, demonstrating once again that Jiang Fengmian is a terrible father. Yanli says that Jiang Cheng will be happy to have a friend with him, though. This kind of makes Wei Wuxian's role in Jiang Cheng's life "replacement dog."

Jiang Cheng, after getting over this particular snit, got worried about Wei Wuxian and woke up Yanli to find him, and then went wandering around in the dark like a dumbass a child, and is banged up and crying when the other two find him. Yanli encourages him to apologize to Wei Wuxian and he does, which will not happen again until the very end of the show.  

They all smile and laugh together, as Wei Ying looks to Yanli to guide him through the insanity that his life has suddenly become. 

(more behind the cut!)

They head back to Lotus Pier in a sweet montage of walking and smiling together, with Jiang Cheng carrying the world's most beautiful candle holder with the world's most wind-resistant candle in it, to light their way back. Back in the present day for a brief moment, Jiang Cheng pretends to sleep and listens to his sister insisting that the three of them should always stay together, while a single tear rolls down the side of his face.

Soup is Love, Chapter 1 of 1000

Then we head to the past again. In Jiang Cheng & Wei Ying's now-shared room, Wei Ying sits on the bed trying to figure out how to deal with his grumpy new roommate.

Wei Ying is unsure what to do when confronted with pajama game this strong. Tiny Jiang Cheng is already a fashion king. 

Then he tells Jiang Cheng he's not going to narc him out to the clan leader, since it was his own fault that he hurt his leg. This is all Jiang Cheng needs to hear to decide Wei Ying is all right, and he says that he will help Wei Ying chase away dogs in the future.  In fact, Wei Wuxian will protect Jiang Cheng from punishment basically forever, while Jiang Cheng will continue to threaten Wei Wuxian with dogs...forever.

They shake hands on their new understanding and then jump up and down laughing, Wei Ying's leg being all better now, apparently.  When Yanli arrives (carrying a tray of...can you guess? I'll let you guess), they stop jumping. Wei Ying dives in to give Jiang Cheng a little tickle/embrace in an adorable moment that would have me saying "oh, my ovaries!" if I hadn't surgically sent my ovaries to hell a few years ago.

Yanli introduces Wei Ying to the emotional and gustatorial miracle that is her lotus and ribs soup. He hesitates a long time before tucking in because he's so unused to being fed.

Consent? I Don’t Even Know Her

The flashback wraps up with Yanli conked out on the table from the drugs in the incense burner, while Wei Wuxian, who is somehow unaffected despite sitting almost as close to the smoke as she was, checks on her. Jiang Cheng and his Uggs period-appropriate sock thingies get out of bed to come stand with Wei Wuxian, and have feelings about sending Yanli away after she JUST said she doesn't want to be parted from them.

Wei Wuxian: If she didn't want us to do this, she shouldn't have signed that blanket consent-to-medical-treatment form.   Jiang Cheng: Wen Qing made me sign one of those plus a durable power of attorney, is that bad?

This episode is all about people overriding each others' agency and making massively important decisions without the consent of the people who will be affected. But in a feudal context, it's not a violation, no matter how it feels to the person being controlled. In feudal life, your body belongs to your lord -- your sect leader, in the world of CQL. Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng's choices are overridden by their clan leader's final command to Wei Wuxian.  Wei Wuxian's core is arguably Jiang Fengmian's property--Wei Wuxian certainly sees it that way, just as his hand was Yu Ziyuan's to take if she wished.  

The brothers tenderly tuck Yanli into bed in the rolly cart and hand her off to Song Lan. They talk about how important it is to get her to Lanling and that she's probably going to be mad, as they thank Song Lan for helping them. 

Yanli listens while she sleeps and, in what is becoming a trademark Jiang move, lets a single tear roll down the side of her face. Jiang Cheng points out that Yanli never gets mad at Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian is like, true dat.

How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?

Song Lan is always so emotional about every damn thing, I love him. Here he's like OH GOD NO DON'T FORMALLY THANK ME! STOP!!!

Then he starts to ask Wei Wuxian to pass a message to Song Xingchen for him, but then decides not to say anything, making it super obvious that they fought and aren't together. 

Wei Wuxian reacts to this with confusion and distress, probably because he doesn't want to imagine ever having a breakup with his own soulmate. Which he soon will be having.  But possibly he's just upset that his OTP broke up.

After Song Lan takes off, Jiang Cheng gives Wen Qing a rude & perfunctory thank-you bow, turning away before she can return it. Wei Wuxian tells her not to take it to heart - basically everyone who deals with Jiang Cheng gets a version of the "ignore what he says" speech. She says she understands and that in his place she would have behaved worse, which is so totally not true.  

Then she asks Wei Wuxian if he's sure about the core transfer (not in so many words, because the script is being kind of being vague about it, without actually hiding what's happening). His reply pretty much encapsulates the whole Wei Wuxian experience.

Then he and Jiang Cheng walk off, with Jiang Cheng giving us a rear view that had me googling Wang Zhuocheng's fashion shoots to determine if that wagon he's draggin’ is really as delightful as this belt makes it look. Alas, there is not a wealth of photographic evidence for this research, as compared to, for example, photos of Xiao Zhan's outstanding ass.

Wen Qing and Wen Ning see them off, with Wen Qing wishing they valued their lives more. Although, what she and Wen Ning are doing is massive treason, so their lives will be pretty much forfeit if they're caught, so...

The Sunshot Campaign of Like 60 Dudes

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng walk up the mountain for the whole beginning of the Sunshot campaign, which...okay. Maybe it's like Dunkirk or The Witcher where they intercut stuff that is happening in different timeframes, which is one of my least favorite new film style thingies.

You know, for a guy Wei Wuxian constantly calls "peacock," Jin Ziyuan really doesn't wear a lot of adornment; just some subtle metalwork on his belt with no dangly bits at all, and a single reasonably-sized hair crown. Compared to the extremely fancy Lan Wangji he's almost plain. We already know that Wei Wuxian is a massive hypocrite when it comes to his idea of a perfect boy, however.

So, this is the Lanling Jin army, which consists of literally 60 guys, including the ones on the stairs and Jin Zixuan and Douchebag Dad. How are they going to fight a war with this tiny group? Why do they have such a big plaza? Hasn't anybody on this production learned CGI cloning?

That’s better.

Nie Mingjue and his best bitch Baxia make quick work of the 4 Wen guys who were assigned to hold the Unclean Realm. 

Hello, Daddy Da-Ge!

Squeeee, it's Lan Wangji! He's taking back Cloud Recesses! Ooooohhh we've missed you Lan Wangji.

Look guys he's here! Look how beautiful he is. He's looking at the gate of cloud recesses and thinking thoughts that Lan Xichen or Wei Wuxian could probably see in his bewitching eyes if they were here to see him, which they aren't. But at least he is here!

....and now he's gone again. *cries*

Hares On The Mountains

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian continue roaming prettily around this pretty mountainside. The locations in this show are such eye candy. 

Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains  Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains  If I was a young lass I’d soon go a hunting

Jiang Cheng starts to have doubts about the whole Baoshan Sanren thing. Wei Wuxian's reply pretty much encapsulates the whole Wei Wuxian experience.  

Then we have just the tenderest blindfolding scene, (more gifs here), which is fodder for your ChengXian dreams, if you have those.

Here's a good place for a sidebar about what is and isn't incest. Whee! In the CDrama context, relationships tend to be more clearly defined than in western media. The mechanism of confession & acceptance means that people either are or are not in a romantic relationship, with few grey areas. So a character can literally say "we grew up as brother and sister, but now we are dating" and when someone looks startled they just say "there's no blood relation" and everyone is like "cool cool" and that's the new definition of the relationship.

For a strong example of this, the extremely wonderful Go Ahead is about a contemporary family in which a girl and two boys, who are not blood relatives, are all raised together, and call each other brother and sister. When they become adults, they and everyone around them expect the girl (now a woman) to marry one of the two men who have been her brothers, while whichever one she doesn't choose will carry on as her sibling. It's treated as the most natural, logical thing in the world; the only question is whether she wants to make that transition, and with whom.

Looked at through this lens, Wei Wuxian's relationships with his adoptive siblings have just as much potential to turn into romances as his relationships with his friends do, and there's nothing creepy about it. As such you can expect my meta to always get into ChengXian moments without treating it as a wrong or forbidden love. Hopeless, of course, because Jiang Cheng is such a prick the power of WangXian is stronger, but that's a different matter.

What is wrong is wearing this fantastic hat & veil combination when the most fashionable person on the mountain is blindfolded and can't see it.

In the course of this blindfolded encounter with Wen Qing, Jiang Cheng gets to kneel before a powerful woman, be led along by a length of silk that's placed in his hand, and then knocked the fuck out and operated on. He'll wake up in a hotel room in a tub full of ice with "we took your kidney" written on the mirror in lipstick, and he'll love every minute of it.  

Soundtrack: 1. Still Fighting it, by Ben Folds 2. Hares on the Mountain, by Steeleye Span

Writing Prompt: The NEXT time somebody blindfolds Jiang Cheng