#—of what he wants & it definitely isn’t hauling up his drunk friends and a few acquaintances up his car | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvdsc · 3 years

Text

august.

Bad habits are hard to break, and you’ve made a terrible one of loving him.

pairing :: liu yangyang x reader genre :: fluff, angst ⋮ best friend + college au word count :: 10,500 words warnings :: none. playlist :: time lapse (taeyeon) ⋆ 2 kids (taemin) ⋆ daydreams (exes) ⋆ sharing you (lany) ⋆ august (taylor swift) ⋆ too close to love (will hyde) ⋆ sad stripped (lany) ⋆ strangers (taemin) ⋆ the 1 (taylor swift) author’s note :: can you believe that i literally wrote this entire 10k fic in one day aka today ??? whew this gave me the same rush that i got when i wrote my research paper in the class it was due for the day of, printed it out during break, and handed it in at the end of class :’) ↳ part of the almost collaboration series.

Liu Yangyang is jumping fences to escape late night parties, shared laughter over childhood favorite cartoons on February mornings, midnight dancing in the refrigerator light, and November kisses stolen in between the shelves of the nearby 7-Eleven. He is obscure doodles in the margins of your physics notes, good intentions laced in December’s mistakes, strawberry lemonade and broken truths wrapped in summer bliss, and September endings with honest lies.

He is your August, he is your everything, but he isn’t yours.

AUGUST 2018.

August has barely begun to fade away.

You’re eighteen years old, and you’re drunk off of your first taste of freedom, one toe already dipping into the shiny pleasures of adulthood. Your new roommate, Karina, has excitedly told you about the famous beach night themed frat party that kick starts every school year at your university. Everybody who’s anybody would be there, and your heart already races at the thought of going to your very first college party.

“Coral or blue?” Karina holds up a solid colored neon blue bikini and a striped, bright pink one for you to choose between.

“Blue.” You nod towards the first option, and she discards the other one back into the open drawer. You pull out a marigold yellow one and a black one lined with white strings, wordlessly gesturing towards them, and she immediately points to the latter.

“That one is gonna look so cute on you. Well, both would, but I love that one.”

You grin at her, silently thanking whoever decided to pair the two of you together for the random dorming. “Perfect, thanks. Do you know any of the guys hosting the party?”

“Yeah, Dejun? He’s really sweet and a year above us. I met him in the music elective I’m taking.” She turns to take off her shirt and tosses it to the side, pulling on her bikini and wriggling into a pair of ripped jean shorts. “You?”

“Kind of? Jaemin is in my project group in Intro to Engineering. He’s rushing for that frat.” You quickly change out of your outfit and into your chosen swim top and daisy dukes. You make sure to grab a pair of black flip flops from your closet. The bundle of nerves in your stomach grows as you step out of your dorm with your new friend, a bit anxious but also excited to attend your very first party.

Thank goodness for summer weather. It’s still a nice, warm 75 degrees Fahrenheit according to your weather app when you and Karina finally make your way to the frat house. The sun barely begins to set, but the party slash dayger had started earlier and is in full swing. There’s a DJ set up out front, blasting some sort of EDM music, and the lawn is absolutely covered in foam. You see the source of it shakily set up on the roof of the patio along with a couple of boys sitting up there, Hawaiian shirts barely covering their figures. You catch the eye of Jaemin, who happily waves at you from his vantage point, and you wave back at him.

“Oh my god, I love college,” Karina says, grabbing your arm excitedly as the two of you step into the foam. You reach down to pick up some of it before flicking it towards your roommate, who squeals before scooping some up and throwing it in your direction as well.

“Ready for our first shitty college drink?” You pull her through the mass of other students and towards the horribly decorated tiki bar stationed in the corner of the patio.

“Hell yeah, let’s do it.”

The two of you stumble over, still throwing handfuls of foam at each other amidst giggles before making a full stop in front of the bar. The older boy behind the makeshift counter lazily grins at you both, a shell necklace hanging loosely around his neck, and his unbuttoned orange Hawaiian shirt gives you a nice flash of his toned abs.

“Hey, I’m Johnny. What can I get for you two?”

“Two vodka shots, please.”

“Alright, ID?”

You freeze, and Karina’s grip on your arm tightens, and then Johnny laughs, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Relax, I’m just messing with you, freshie. Two vodka shots coming right up.”

He pulls out two small plastic cups and pours out the drinks for you. “How many do you want?”

“This is good for now, thanks.” You and Karina pick up the drinks, smiling a little nervously at him. He flashes another amused smile at you. “Alright, come back anytime if you want another.”

You move away from the patio, and Karina follows close behind. The two of you throw back the drinks and dispose of the empty cups quickly. The burning sensation in your throat disappears after a few seconds, and you turn to your roommate. “Should we find our friends?”

“I think I see Dejun back there! Let’s go say hi, I can introduce you to him.” Karina drags you through the rising foam, the bubbles clinging to your skin, and when you go past the DJ stand, you feel the pounding bass reverberating in your chest harder than ever. You trek past the gate and into the backyard where the foam has risen to your waist, thanks to the enclosed fences. She taps on the shoulder of a boy with the prettiest almond eyes you have ever seen, and you shyly smile at him when he greets you.

“Hey, I’m Dejun.”

Oh my god, even his voice sounds pretty. Older college boys are definitely better and hotter than high school boys. Heck, they’re better than freshman boys. Nobody wants to date a freshman dude, not even the freshman girls.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You extend your hand, but then realize how stupid that must be. You hastily start to retract your hand, but he laughs and warmly grasps your hand. Smiling at you, he shakes it firmly, squeezing your hand gently before letting go.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

The butterflies in your stomach grow in volume as the conversation goes on, and you’re positively enamored by the end of the night. Karina had given you a look earlier before walking off with Dejun’s friend and joining the dancing crowd. With the addition of his phone number in your pocket and a promise to show you a new song he’s working on with his guitar next Friday, you’re walking on cloud nine.

“Do you want something to drink? I need a refill, and I can go grab you one,” he asks, and you’re about to offer to go with him, but then you remember the teasing upperclassman and simply agree, asking for another shot of vodka.

After he disappears, you look around, eyeing the crowd and wondering if you can spot your roommate anywhere. You bump into someone lightly and turn around to apologize. Your eyes meet a pair of curiously bright ones.

“Sorry about that, I’m looking for my roomie.”

The boy gives you a Cheshire Cat grin. He’s wearing one of those dumb Hawaiian shirts, too, and it’s unbuttoned, but he has a white T-shirt layered underneath it. “No biggie, it’s a massive party and it’s crowded. Who are you looking for?”

“Ah, I don’t know if you know her, but Karina? She went off with this dude, Kunhang, I think?”

His eyes light up at that name. “Oh, I know him! I saw him earlier by the keg stands inside. Your friend might be there, too. I can—”

“THE COPS ARE COMING!” A loud voice bellows, and you freeze up. Suddenly, the music is shut off as everyone starts running away. You start to panic, the terror rising in your chest, and the boy in front of you grabs your hand and pulls you with him. “What are you doing?! Don’t just stand there! We gotta go!”

“Wait, but Kar—” You start to object, but cut yourself off when you bump into his back as he abruptly stops. He scans the backyard, quickly assessing the situation before turning to you.

“There’s way too many people trapped in here, we’re not gonna make it to the gate. We need to climb over the fence. I’ll hoist you up, and you can help me up from there.”

“I don’t even know you,” you protest, and he throws you a look.

“Hi, I’m Yangyang, nice to meet you, I don’t want to get my ass hauled out by the police and continue the icebreakers in jail, so let’s move now. We good?”

“Yeah, okay, we’re good,” you say faintly, mind still whirling around as you try to grasp the situation. “I’m Y/N.”

“Great, now up you go.”

He immediately picks you up without any warning, and you almost fall backwards, arms flailing before you grasp the top of the fence and pull yourself up. Balancing precariously on top of it, you grab his arm, tugging him up until he’s sitting right next to you, too. The both of you swing your legs over the fence and jump down to the other side. You let out a sigh of relief, squatting down as you clutch your heart.

“Oh my god, we made it. I didn’t get arrested at my first party.”

“What an amazing accomplishment.” Yangyang brushes off the back of his shorts. “We aren’t going to jail. Freshman year is gonna be a breeze if your bar is set this low.”

“Hey!” You frown at him, standing up and crossing your arms over your chest. “How do you know I’m a freshman?”

“It’s written all over your face.” You give him a look, and he relents. “Only a freshman would be this scared of getting caught.”

“So are you an upperclassman?”

“Nah, this is my first party, too. I’m rushing for Nu Chi. Hold on, wait here.” He sneaks around the edge of the fence, peering around for a few seconds before jogging back towards you. “Okay, the police are over there. I’m gonna have to wait a while before going back in.”

“You have to go back?”

“Part of tonight’s rush process,” he sighs before turning to you. “Do you live on campus?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna walk back now,” you answer, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “It’s late, and I’m not in a partying mood anymore.”

“I can walk you back,” he offers, and you shoot him a grateful smile.

“That’d be great, thanks.”

The two of you start the trek back, an awkward lull in the conversation making itself known. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering slightly when a soft breeze picks up. There’s a light rustling noise, and you pay no mind to it until a soft cloth is draped over your shoulders. Eyes widening, you notice the colorful, palm tree-printed button down shirt wrapped around you and the boy next to you, looking straight ahead with his hands shoved into his pockets. Smiling to yourself, you slip on the shirt, loosely buttoning the front of it.

“So, Yangyang,” you casually begin, testing his name on your tongue for the first time. You decide you like it. It’s cute. He turns to you, raising an eyebrow, and you continue, “Since our lives are no longer in jeopardy, we can continue the icebreakers, right?”

His lips curve into a smile. “Alright, shoot. What’s your first question?”

“Captain America or Iron Man?”

“Oh, Iron Man, hands down. He’s so…”

You meet him in August.

FEBRUARY 2019.

“Hey, where’s your cereal? The Reese’s one?”

February marks six months of your relationship with Dejun. It also marks six months of your friendship with Yangyang. It is time for your weekly Sunday rituals of watching old cartoons and eating breakfast, and you could’ve sworn that box was still half full last week. You rummage through the top drawer Yangyang had designated for snacks and other foods in his dorm as he takes out the milk from his mini fridge and carries it over to his desk.

“I ran out a few days ago. There’s Cinnamon Toast Crunch somewhere in there though.”

With a victorious cry, you manage to pull out the slightly crushed box of the aforementioned cereal from underneath the packages of flamin’ hot Cheetos and spicy nacho Doritos and triumphantly bring it over to your best friend. He already pulls out two bowls (which were stolen from the dining hall) and hands over the plastic spoons in his grasp (which was also taken from the dining hall).

“Thanks.” After dropping a spoon into each bowl, you shake out the sugary cereal squares before pouring the milk because you’re not an absolute heathen who puts milk in first, like Sicheng. Yangyang clambers up to his top bunk bed, and you carefully pass over the two bowls of cereal, milk sloshing precariously near the edges. You climb up afterwards, and he gives you your bowl once you settle down.

“So, Scooby Doo or Pokémon?”

“Mm, we watched Pokémon last Sunday already, so let’s do Scooby Doo this time.” He nods in agreement, pulling up the cartoon from the queue in Netflix, and the two of you lean back against the ginormous mound of pillows and stuffed animals of his that occupy nearly half of his bed.

You’re shoveling a spoonful of cereal into your mouth when he casually asks, “So how’re you and Dejun doing?”

Choking slightly, you quickly swallow. “We’re doing good. I think he booked a table at the Italian restaurant down the street for Valentine’s Day. Are you doing anything for Valentine’s?”

“I’m forcing Renjun to come watch that “‘Happy Death Day’ movie with me.” The faint sounds of the Scooby Doo theme song plays in the background as you hum in acknowledgement, mouth twisting into a mischievous smirk.

“That’s so sweet. So who confessed to who? Not gonna lie, I thought you had a crush on Hyuck, not Jun.”

“... I would shove you right now, but I just did my laundry, and rewashing my comforter is expensive and I’m out of quarters.”

You stick your tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes before lifting his bowl up to sip the best part of having Cinnamon Toast Crunch: the milk infused with all the cinnamony, sugary goodness. You let your spoon fall back into your bowl with a soft clink, a sudden worrying thought popping into your head.

“I bought him some customized guitar picks and a pretty composition book. Do you think he’ll like it?”

“That’s a pretty basic gift, isn’t it? It feels like something Kun would get him,” he teases, but his heart falls when he notices you chewing on your bottom lip, spoon held limply in your hand.

“Hey, I’m just joking, of course he would like it. He’s completely whipped. He’ll love anything from you.” Yangyang’s voice grows softer, and he fiddles with a stray thread on his comforter, avoiding eye contact with you. “I know I would.”

He looks up slightly and sees you smiling gratefully at him, eyes shining bright. He quickly ducks his head, turning away slightly to hide the hues of pink blooming on his cheeks. He feels you leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder with a quiet sigh, and his breath hitches in his throat.

“Thanks, Yang.”

Replaying the sight of your smile in his mind makes his stomach flip flop, and he resists the overwhelming urge to tell you you’re pretty, pushing it back into the farthest crevice of his mind. Your head on his shoulder makes him feel like he’s carrying the entire world, and he doesn’t know what to do. He paints on a tight smile of his own, silently hoping you can’t hear the way his heart nearly pounds out of his chest.

Yangyang knows that having feelings for his best friend, specifically one of his good friends’ girlfriends, is something he absolutely should not be doing, but he can’t help it. His stupid heart refuses to listen to his brain. For now, all he can do is desperately hope that this dumb crush of his goes away soon because while 99% of his friends are oblivious (including you), Ten and Donghyuck are not. They’ll be able to spot his feelings from a mile away, like how Kun always knows when there’s a good sale going on at the Asian supermarket downtown (This week, it was the 50% off bean sprouts and chili paste).

Letting out an inaudible sigh, Yangyang carefully rests his head on top of yours. Clutching the empty bowl with one hand, he shoves his other one under his thigh to stop himself from reaching over and tangling his fingers with yours. He stares at the screen, watching until the bright colors blur together.

“Anytime.”

He likes you in February.

AUGUST 2019.

The earth spins around the sun for another time, and August makes its presence known once again. It’s Thursday night, and you’re sitting on the countertop in Nu Chi Theta’s kitchen, swinging your legs back and forth as Yangyang struggles to make some scrambled eggs because the half filled carton of eggs the two of you managed to find is the only thing that isn’t expired (besides Jeno’s protein shakes, but neither of you are gonna touch that cardboard tasting monstrosity).

“Maybe I should make it.” You peer over at the frying pan, wincing when you see the full damage of your future meal. “Did you use oil?”

“Of course I did!” he exclaims indignantly before pitifully pushing around the nearly charred mess of yolk and whites around with his spatula. “I’m not Mark.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, waving your hand around to dissipate the acrid burning smell, and Yangyang throws you a dirty look. He grabs a fork and stabs a small chunk of the eggs. Picking it up, he brings it closer to his mouth before hesitating. His eyes dart to you, and you raise your eyebrows at him, a silent challenge in your gaze. The sad piece of egg hovers in the air for a few more seconds before he defeatedly drops it back into the pan.

“Okay, what if we just Uber Eats some McDonald’s?” Turning off the stove, he then tosses the remnants of his cooking into the trash and drops the pan into the sink.

“Stellar plan. Best idea you’ve had all night.” You hop off the counter to stand next to him, propping your chin on his shoulder to see him pull up the app. He immediately puts in your usual order along with his before holding it up for you to see it better.

“Looks good?”

“Looks perfect.”

He clicks the confirmation button, and the delivery is set to come in 30 minutes. You’re suddenly hyper aware of how close you are with your chest pressed against his back and hastily move away, warmth spreading across your cheeks.

Glancing over at your best friend, you don't miss the way Yangyang smiles down at something on his phone before his fingers fly across the screen. When he looks up, you immediately turn away, focusing your eyes on anything but him.

“Hey, you’re going to the Alpha Sig formal, right?” Yangyang calls out, and you throw on a teasing grin.

“You mean Alpha Sigma Psi, also known as the sorority I’m in?”

“Ah, right, yeah.” He flushes, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “But you’re going, right?”

You nod, the sudden realization creeping up on you. “Oh yeah, I am, thanks for reminding me. I completely forgot to ask, but do you want t—”

“Ningning just asked me to go with her,” Yangyang blurts out, and you freeze, failing to hide your shock for a split second before you regain your composure.

“Oh wow, that’s great, Yang! I’ll see you there then.” You try to give him a convincing smile. He wrings his hands, biting his bottom lip. Something is on his mind. You can tell. He’s not someone to hold back with his words, but this time, he is.

“I… I don’t know if I’m gonna go,” he says at last. Your heart picks up a little at that. Does that mean he doesn’t want to go to the dance at all? Or does he not want to go with Ningning? If you asked him now, would it make a difference?

“I’ve never slow danced,” he confesses, leaning against the opposite counter, and your heart drops. So that was it. Of course, he wouldn’t reject Ningning. She’s an absolute goddess, heck, you wouldn’t say no if she asked you either. You stamp out that last flicker of hope.

“What if I suck at it?” he continues, absentmindedly carding his fingers through his hair. “Oh god, I bet Yukhei and Kunhang are never gonna let me live it down. I can do choreographed dances, but I’m gonna mess up over a stupid slow dance. But where am I supposed to put my hands?! Like on her shoulders? Her waist? Do I hold her hand?”

Your eyes follow the way his hair ruffles slightly, and you wonder if it’s as soft as it looks. You swallow hard before saying quietly, “I can teach you?”

His hand pauses mid-movement, and your eyes fly down to meet his. His eyes widen, and he contemplates your offer for a split second before nodding excitedly. “Yeah, that’d be great! Can you teach me right now? While we wait for our food to come!”

“S-sure,” you stammer, flustered at the sudden acceptance and his eagerness. “Um, here? In the kitchen?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugs before straightening up. “The lights should be dimmed, right? We can kind of mimic that here to set the mood or whatever.”

He goes over and fiddles with the light switch, flicking it on and off, and you laugh, walking over and placing your hand over his. “What are you doing? Some kind of Kevin Nguyen mating call to look for a rave bae?”

“First off, I’m offended that you think I’d be one of them,” Yangyang narrows his eyes at you. “Secondly, I’m trying to make this feel more formal dance-y. Oh, wait!”

He turns off the lights for the last time and reaches over to pull open the refrigerator doors, the artificial fluorescent light pouring out and mixing with the faint beams coming in through the window from the street lamps outside. He grins at you, satisfied. “Romantic, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but the amused smile on your face gives away your true feelings. “Wow, Romeo, you swept me off my feet. The food is gonna go bad, and Kun is gonna kill you for the high electricity bill.”

“What food? Jeno’s protein shakes probably never expire.” He snorts before standing closer to you, his hands resting on either side of you on the counter. You can see the pretty gold flecks in his irises, and your breath gets caught in your throat. “And I guess this means you gotta teach me fast before we waste more electricity, right?”

You place your hands on his chest and lightly push him away, and he laughs, stepping back. You let out a shaky breath, remembering that your lungs need oxygen in order to, you know, continue living.

“Okay,” you clear your throat before pulling out your phone and putting on a slow song. “Ready?”

“You chose Ed Sheeran? Thinking Out Loud? Really?”

You raise your hands up defensively. “Hey, he’s the king of sappy slow songs that all girls want to be played at their weddings for their first dance.”

When your legs don't work like they used to before,

And I can't sweep you off of your feet,

Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?

Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?

“Is this the song you want played at your wedding?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and your face grows warm. You ignore the question, and this time, you’re the one taking a bold step forward, a few centimeters now separating you and your best friend. You see his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps lightly before meeting your eyes.

And darling, I will be loving you 'til we're seventy,

And baby, my heart could still fall as hard at twenty-three,

And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways.

“So, your hands go here.” You take his hands and place them on either side of your waist. His arms freeze up. “Relax, Yang. Precious cargo here.”

He lets out a chuckle, loosening his grip as he starts to relax. You reach up and slide your arms around his neck, interlocking your fingers. You gaze back at him, saying softly, “Now pull me closer.”

He does so.

Maybe just the touch of a hand,

Oh me I fall in love with you every single day,

And I just wanna tell you I am.

“And now follow my lead. We’re going to take one step. And then another. We’re just slowly turning in a circle.”

After a few spins and steps, you stop leading and let yourself be led. Yangyang continues to hold onto you carefully, and you can hear him muttering a 1, 2, 3, 4 count under his breath until he finally gets the hang of it. He grows a little braver, pulling you even closer.

So honey now,

Take me into your loving arms,

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars.

“Are you going with Dejun?” he asks quietly, and you stiffen at the mention at him before shaking your head.

“No, we broke up in July.”

Yangyang falters in his step before recovering. “Oh. You never told me.”

“Yeah.” You struggle to keep your voice level. “I just… he’s your friend, and I didn’t want to make it weird.”

“You’re my best friend though,” he says firmly, looking you directly in the eyes. His grip on your waist tightens. “It’s his loss. That dumbass just lost the best person who’ll ever come into his life.”

You give him a tired half smile, one that doesn’t quite meet your eyes. He hugs you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and securing you against his chest. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and hope that he doesn’t feel how quickly your heart beats in your chest.

Place your head on my beating heart,

I'm thinking out loud,

Maybe we found love right where we are.

“Thanks, Yang,” you whisper, your breath tickling his skin. He envelops you tightly, and the two of you continue to spin in slow circles, quietly dancing in the refrigerator light as the remaining verses of the song warble in the background.

You think you finally understand what Dejun meant when he said he’s breaking up with you because your heart was already occupied by someone else.

You fall in love with him in August.

NOVEMBER 2019.

[ 12:54 a.m. ] yang 🐏🤪: hey you up?

[ 12:54 a.m. ] yang 🐏🤪: 7/11 in ten mins?

Tiredly rubbing your eyes, you stumble out of your dorm building, one of Jeno’s sweaters draped over your figure. November nights are cold, but this one seems chillier than usual. Yangyang stands near the front steps, and he stiffens up when he notices whose hoodie you’re wearing. He makes no mention of it though when you join him.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He glances over to you as the two of you walk side by side to the small convenience store just on the edge of campus. You shake your head, shoving your hands into the front pocket of your sweater.

“I was up cramming for midterms. I could use a break anyway,” you shrug. A wisp of your hair falls in your face, and Yangyang starts to reach out to fix it, but forces himself to keep his hand by his side. You reach out to carelessly brush it away, tucking it behind your ear.

“What about you?” You look over at him, noting the bags under his eyes. “Rough night?”

He smiles tiredly at you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he kicks a stray pebble along the sidewalk. “More like rough week. Two more midterms left, and they’re for electromagnetic theory and linear systems.”

“Oh god, good luck. I took linear systems today, and it was absolutely brutal.” You wince, brightening up when you see the familiar neon orange, red, and green lights up ahead.

“Maybe I should just withdraw and take it again next quarter,” your best friend grumbles, kicking the stone as far as he possibly can.

“You really want another quarter with Hwang?”

“You’re right,” he sighs, “I just need to get a C+ to maintain my GPA. C if I’m pushing it.”

The two of you hurry over to the 7-Eleven, quickening your pace, until you reach the store doors, and you pull them open. Entering quickly, you push the door open slightly wider, and Yangyang slips in behind you. The cashier doesn’t even look up, texting away on his phone. You make a beeline towards the chips aisle, grabbing a bag of flamin’ hot Cheetos and a pack of sour gummy worms.

“What are you getting, Yang?” You call out over your shoulder, eyes zeroing in on the Red Bull stand at the end of the aisle. When you hear no response, you halt in your steps, turning around. Yangyang stands in the middle of the aisle, looking dazed under the fluorescent lights.

Putting your items back on the shelf, you approach him, reaching out and touching his arm gently. “Yangyang, what’s wrong?”

He jerks back before silently holding up his phone for you to see. There’s a slew of text messages from Ningning a few hours ago, and a quick scan tells you all you need to know. Your heart weighs heavily in your chest when you look back at him, a forlorn expression on his face.

“She dumped me,” he says quietly, shoving the phone back into his pocket. “She said our relationship was like a friendship. She didn’t feel anything. She said we could still be friends if I wanted to be though.”

He jabs a large bag of Lays potato chips angrily as his voice raises slightly higher. “But I don’t get it. Do friends take each other on dates? Do friends spend the night? Do friends hug each other and hold hands walking to class? Do friends spend three hundred dollars to do a surprise weekend trip for their birthday?”

He whirls around to face you, and he’s so close that you can see those pretty golden sparkles in his eyes again. Suddenly, his hands are cupping your face, and the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before they flutter shut, and you press your lips against his. The 90s pop station music playing overhead seems to fade away, and all you can focus on is that your best friend tastes like spearmint gum and grape soju. He pulls away abruptly, the realization of what he’s done finally hitting him as his chest heaves up and down.

“Do friends kiss like this?”

His voice is barely a whisper, but it cuts through the silence. You feel like you’re spinning out of control, a split second from careening and crashing.

“No, we—they don’t,” you mumble, and Yangyang sees the starstruck look in your eyes, and he wants to apologize: to say sorry for kissing you. But he doesn’t. Because for some reason, he doesn’t feel sorry. He closes his eyes, curling his hands into fists before exhaling slowly. He sees you looking back at him this time, and he wonders if you feel as equally lost as he does.

Because you’re right. Friends don’t kiss each other like that. Friends don’t feel like this about each other.

He kisses you in November.

AUGUST 2020.

The sun still shines bright late into the day, and August greets you like an old friend. You’re absentmindedly doodling in the margins of your notebook designated for Quantum Mechanics. Yangyang sits next to you in the lecture hall, making a bunch of origami cranes before tossing them at Renjun’s head right in front of him. When the bird reaches its target for the sixth time in a row, the annoyed boy whirls around in his seat, glaring at your best friend.

“Stop that,” he hisses, and Yangyang innocently raises his hands in the air. Renjun angrily frowns at him before turning back around in his seat. After a few minutes, Yangyang flicks another crane towards his friend. If this was a cartoon, you would see steam blowing out of your friend’s ears. You silently watch as he wordlessly picks up his phone, seething as he presses on a particular number.

Suddenly, Travis Scott’s SICKO MODE starts blasting, amplified by the large auditorium-like room. The professor goes silent, and everyone turns to see Yangyang scrambling to pick up his phone. He fumbles around for a few seconds with it before finally shutting it off and putting it on vibrate mode. Cheeks burning red, he meekly puts his phone back in his bag and squeaks out a “sorry” before sinking down in his chair (You can see the culprit grinning like the cat ate the canary right in front of him. Karma’s a bitch who also goes by the name of Renjun).

You pat his arm consolingly as he sulks next to you for a few minutes, mouth jutting out into a pout. You decide to take pity on him and lean closer to him, whispering quietly, “Would it make you feel better if I bought you boba after class?”

Immediately, he brightens up. “One oolong milk tea, half sugar with white pearls and coconut jelly?”

“Yes, I’ll pay for your overpriced drink,” you huff, thinking about how his one seven dollar drink could buy you a whole rotisserie chicken that’ll last you a week. At least the fluffy dog at Cloudy with a Chance of Boba is cute and fun to play with. “I’ll even get the honey waffle fries.”

“Heck yeah!” he whisper-yells, fist pumping quietly before he suddenly deflates. “Wait, I can’t. I promised Lia I’d get lunch with her.”

Ah, right, there’s Lia now. Yangyang’s new girlfriend: the only other student who went to Düsseldorf, Germany to study abroad over the summer, and inevitably, the two of them became close. All you really know about her is that she’s pretty, she’s in Iota Theta Zeta, and she followed you on Instagram a few weeks ago (of course, you followed her back because of the unspoken best friend and girlfriend policy).

Her page looks carefully curated, and there’s a common pink tinted theme going on throughout her feed. She has over a thousand followers, and it seems like Yangyang fits perfectly in her magazine curated life, judging by how he occupies nearly every picture taken in the summer with her or how he’s tagged as the photographer. You can’t deny that they look good together, pointedly shoving the green eyed monster back under the bed.

You take a peek at your messy Instagram page where you only post pictures when you’re half drunk, so there’s no semblance of uniformity anywhere. You shrug at him, pocketing your phone.

“No biggie. I’ll see if Karina is up for some boba. She’s been holed up in the dance studio already, and it’s only week two of classes, can you believe it?”

“I remember Ten was the same way,” Yangyang hums, eyes fixated on his phone and fingers tapping away. He laughs quietly, lips curling into a pretty smile, and you glance over curiously.

“What’s so funny?”

“Hmm?” Yangyang finally tears his eyes away from his screen for a split second to look at you before another buzz takes his attention away. He’s distracted, lovestruck, and you wistfully smile before turning back to your notes.

“Sorry, what’d you say earlier?” he loudly whispers a few minutes later, and you barely glance up from the large bulbasaur doodle you’re in the progress of completing right next to the chart marking the wave functions for a bouncing ball that you had copied down from the blackboard.

“Oh, I just asked what was so funny,” you murmur, coloring in the flowers you drew around the Pokémon with your blue ballpoint pen.

He looks confused for a moment before lighting up. “Oh! It was just a German joke. It’s not really funny if I translate it though.”

“Got it, no worries.” You notice the professor starting a new example problem, and you abandon your drawing, focusing on the formulas rapidly filling up the chalkboards in front of you. A quiet chuckle echoes in your ears, and you pause in your note taking to look over and see your best friend still typing on his phone. You make a mental reminder to create a copy of your notes for him later on when you pass the library on the way to the dining hall.

“Hey, Y/N.” Yangyang nudges you gently. “Rain check on the boba?”

You offer him a soft smile. “Of course. Anytime.”

He gives you a quick grin in return before his attention returns to the device in his hand—or rather, the pretty girl behind those texts. Your best friend is sitting right next to you, but you’ve never felt so far away. You know distance makes the heart grow fonder, but you don’t think it’s possible to be even fonder of him than you are now. Bad habits are hard to break, and you’ve made a terrible one of loving him. No wonder it’s beginning to hurt so much.

You lose him in August.

DECEMBER 2020.

December is the coldest month of the year, yet it is also simultaneously the warmest with all the holiday festivities it brings. If Yangyang were to choose a month to describe you, it’d be this one. You are a walking paradox, a conundrum he might never solve, an oxymoron come to life. He doesn’t understand how you can be his best friend, yet feel like a stranger; a friend who he wants as a lover; someone who has created such an impact in his life, but disappears seamlessly here and there.

He wonders when you’ve gotten so distant. He wonders why he never noticed the way you seemed to slip away through the cracks until it’s now nearing the end of the year, and the last time he’s seen you in person was before the November autumn break.

But you’re here.

You’re standing right next to the punch bowl filled with spiked eggnog, wearing a garish knitted button down jumper with brightly colored Christmas lights decorating it. It’s perfectly in theme with the Ugly Christmas Sweater party Nu Chi is holding, and Yangyang is beyond ecstatic to know that you’re attending. He had texted you an invite two weeks ago, and you merely reacted with a thumbs up.

Yangyang swears he was going to follow up with you on that, but he got so caught up with midterms, then meeting Lia’s family for Thanksgiving, then studying for finals, and then finally, preparing for this party. Buying enough beer for twenty-three keg stands is a lot more difficult than it seems (Donghyuck’s car broke down halfway during one trip, and they all had to carry back the packs of beers to the house in 40 degree weather in their Sperry boat shoes and Patagonia long sleeves that definitely weren’t cut out for this kind of weather).

His girlfriend is somewhere in the room, wearing the other half of the reindeer sweater she forced him to put on, but all he can focus on is you. He hurriedly makes his way over, skidding to a stop in front of you, and you’re startled before a smile spreads across your face.

“Hey, you, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You grin at him, reaching out to poke the reindeer tail sticking out from the front of his itchy sweater (Lia got to wear the head half of the reindeer, while he was stuck with the behind).

“Yeah, how have you been?” He reaches around you to pick up a cup and pour himself some eggnog. He offers you one, but you decline with a small shake of your head.

“I’ve been doing good, a bit tired with finals coming up, but what’s new?” You joke, grabbing one of the sugar cookies from the table. You’re secretly surprised that they actually have real food (No, Hyuck, Jell-O shots do not count as real food). You suspect Jaemin has something to do with it. He always contributes to the annual Greek row bake sale.

“Are you here with someone? Did Karina come?” he asks, curiosity coating every word. He looks around for your roommate, but she’s nowhere to be found.

You shake your head. “No, I actually came with—”

“Me!”

Yukhei bounds over, slipping an arm over your shoulder. He hands you a new cup of apple cider, which you accept gratefully. He grins happily at Yangyang, who freezes up at the sight of his tall friend. “I asked her to be my date for the party, and she agreed. She also made our sweaters! Aren’t they so cool? There’s even lights that spell my name and play Christmas songs. She did a bunch of cool programming tricks to make them work.”

Yangyang realizes with a start that the two of you are indeed wearing matching sweaters, and that leaves a rather sour taste in his mouth (and it definitely wasn’t because of expired eggnog). The corners of his lips tilt downward as he presses his lips together tightly.

“So… you two are together?” He gestures between you and Yukhei with a forced laugh. Jealousy never did look good on anybody, and unfortunately, he’s not an exception.

“We’re just seeing each other and seeing how it goes for now,” you answer quietly, noting the way your best friend reacts. You have always been good at reading him, and you tread carefully now, not wanting to make a scene. Drunk Yangyang never holds anything back, and he’s had quite a few pre-game shots already (It definitely doesn’t help that he’s a lightweight, too).

“I see. How did you guys meet? Or I guess, start talking?” He attempts to look intimidating, staring down at Yukhei, but it’s a difficult feat to accomplish, especially when he’s trying to stare down a six foot guy who’s more like an overgrown puppy and his friend.

“Oh, she came by for one of your boba runs, but you were still out with Lia. So I asked if I could go with her.” Yukhei flashes his pearly whites at you, and you chuckle, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“I said yes, and we hit it off, I guess.”

“You guess? And you took him on our boba runs?”

“You were out with Lia,” you say defensively, and he blanches when he hears his girlfriend’s name come out of your mouth.

“You could’ve waited,” he mutters, but you still hear it, and you give him a scathing look, finally too tired of this push and pull game that’s been going on behind the scenes for nearly three years now.

“I did. I waited over an hour here for you, but you didn’t show up or even text me that you were gonna be late. Yukhei was nice enough to offer to go with me.”

He stays silent, and you gnaw on your bottom lip, unsure of what to say next. Yukhei looks at you in concern, but you reach up and squeeze his hand reassuringly, which your best friend doesn’t fail to notice, his lips pressing into an even thinner line.

“I don’t understand what the deal is,” you finally burst out, startling both boys. “What’s the big deal about me and Yukhei going out?”

Something inside of him finally snaps. “The big deal is that you’re basically sleeping through my list of friends and then breaking up with them! First Dejun, then Jeno, now Yukhei? Who’s next? Should I give Renjun a heads up? Pencil you into his planner? Or Sicheng? Sungchan? You have a class with him, so you’re bound to flirt with him, too, right? When are you gonna stop fucking around with my frien—”

He gasps, stopping mid-outburst as he stares at you in disbelief. Apple cider slides down from his hair, dripping onto his face and soaking into his sweater, the sticky juice clinging to his skin uncomfortably. You’re absolutely seething, the empty cup crackling in your clenched fist. Shocked, Yukhei carefully tugs the plastic away from you and places it on the table before replacing it with his own hand, his thumb caressing circles on the back of your hand soothingly. Yangyang doesn’t dare to meet his furious gaze, lifting his chin to look at you instead. The entire room has hushed down by now, all eyes staring directly at the three of you in a mixture of surprise and slight terror.

“Screw you, Yangyang,” you say lowly, voice shaking with anger. Tears form on the edge of your waterline, but you blink them away before hastily brushing a stray droplet from your cheek. “They asked me out. I said yes. We went out. It didn’t work out. We move on. Just like how you’ve gone out with my friends. And they didn’t work out, so you moved on. So what’s so wrong about that? What’s so wrong about trying again to find love?”

He can’t answer you, curling his hands into fists until his fingernails indent miniature crescents in his palms—until the pain overtakes the feelings that are threatening to spill from his heart. Yangyang may not be yours, but he doesn’t like the fact that he can’t call you his either.

Love. That’s what you want, that’s what you crave, but not if it’s from him. So what is he supposed to do with love that’s unwanted? It’s bursting at the seams, and he has nowhere to hide it anymore.

He loves you in December.

AUGUST 2021.

August sneaks up on you this time around, and you find yourself in Kunhang’s apartment. All of your close friends are here, starting the last year of youth with one final first day party. You think back to that day three years ago: when your eyes met a pair of equally bright ones for the first time.

Curled up next to Yukhei on the couch, you look across the room and meet those very same eyes, although they seem hazier this time around. Lia is wrapped around his arm, and you think it’s quite ironic how both your and his relationships remain the same after all this time. Perhaps you both were bad luck for each other, leading to the other’s demise with short lived relationships. He looks away from you.

The rules of truth or dare are simple. You cannot ask the same person again until three other people have been asked first, and no one can be asked more than three times in each round. And, for reasons you can’t understand, everyone seems to take the code of truth seriously.

“I’ll start,” Kunhang announces, leaning back in one of the several beanbags he has in his place. “Goeun, truth or dare?”

Goeun sighs, leaning back on the palms of her hands. “Dare.”

“You and Mark, seven minutes in heaven.” Hendery points towards the coat closet, and the immediate reaction of hoots and wolf whistles has the girl rolling her eyes. With an exasperated huff, she stands up and pulls a red faced Mark along with her.

“Wait, you gotta pick the next person!” Donghyuck calls out, and she stops in her tracks, throwing open the closet door and shrugging. “You can choose for me.”

With that, she and Mark disappear behind the door, and Donghyuck turns toward the rest of the group, eyes glimmering mischievously. You pay no attention to him, absentmindedly playing with Yukhei’s fingers. You tug one of his rings off his finger, and he smiles, plucking it from your grasp carefully before holding your hand. He carefully slides it onto your right ring finger, but it falls off. Grinning, he pretends to try it on every single one of your fingers until finally settling on your thumb. The ring fits snugly there, and you admire it, wriggling your thumb around.

“Well, look at that. It fits you. I think that means we’re meant to be,” Yukhei says, smiling broadly, and you laugh, interlocking your fingers with his again before glancing down at the silver engraved band resting on your finger. The weight of the metal feels heavy resting against your knuckle.

“Yangyang, truth or dare.”

Donghyuck’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you instinctively perk up in your seat at the sound of his name before freezing up in your spot. Yukhei squeezes your hand softly, and you tighten your grip around his fingers.

“Truth.”

“You’re no fun,” Donghyuck sighs, slouching back against the armrest. Yukhei leans over and whispers something in his ear before settling back next to you, shifting slightly to wrap his arm around you. Donghyuck lifts an eyebrow at your boyfriend before shrugging. “Okay, here’s an easy one. Are you in love…”

“Yes.” is his immediate response, and you notice how Lia absolutely preens next to him.

“… with Y/N?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you immediately turn your head to look at Yukhei, your eyes growing wide in horror. He looks apologetic, shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry, but just the way he looks at you, it’s so obvious, and I had to know.”

You whip around to face the boy in question. With bated breath, you look at him, but Yangyang stares at the center of the floor, struggling internally. Everyone is quiet, and it reminds you of the calm before a storm. At last, he looks up, gazing right at you, and you can almost swear that you see those pretty little gold flecks in his irises from here.

“Yes,” Yangyang confesses quietly.

There’s almost a collective gasp rippling through the room, and Yukhei lets out an inaudible swear under his breath. Your grip on his hand grows slack as you fumble to get a grasp on the entire situation.

He loves you. He loves you. He loves you.

The words echo in your mind like a mantra until it grows so loud that you can’t hear any of your own thoughts anymore. Lia is in absolute hysterics, demanding an explanation from him, but he merely shrugs her off. Standing up, he quickly moves to leave the room, glancing at you one more time before disappearing out the front door.

It’s like your body is on auto-pilot after this. You drop Yukhei’s hand, immediately standing up and rushing after your best friend, paying no mind to the hushed whispers that only seem to increase in volume once you leave. You step out onto the porch, and there he is, sitting on the steps.

You quietly stand behind him, contemplating what to say and carefully choosing your next words. But there’s only one question on your mind.

“Why did you say that?”

He stays silent for a moment, staring out at the moon shining brightly ahead. “Because I meant it.”

Your heart wrenches in your chest. “You shouldn’t.”

He finally turns to look at you, an indescribable look in his eyes. It reminds you of heartbreak. “But I do. And I tried not to for the past three fucking years, but I can’t anymore.”

“Since freshman year?” You feel the tears well up in your eyes, and this time, you let them go. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yangyang grips onto the edge of the stairs tightly, frustration ringing with every word that falls from his mouth. “Because I was scared. And I thought you never felt the same way. You’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Yang…” You whisper, hand reaching out as you let it hover over his shoulder for a few seconds. Then, you pull back, curling your fingers into fists, pressing crescent indentations into the palms of your hands.

He stands up, whirling around to look at you, desperate. “Tell me I’m not too late. Please, Y/N.”

Something inside of you breaks. You open your mouth and start to say something when the door opens behind you. Turning around, you see Yukhei. His eyes widen when he sees the two of you standing there.

You know this is it. This is the moment. This is where you have to decide.

“I, I was just looking for you. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Yukhei awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna go back in and—”

“No, wait, it’s okay,” you gently interrupt him. You reach out and slip your hand into his, and he relaxes, giving you a relieved smile. You smile softly back at your boyfriend before turning to face him, eyes apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Yangyang.”

He and you are asymptotes: two lines curving towards each other, but never touching; two hands reaching towards each other, but never interlocking; two people tangling their red strings of fate, but never tying.

You give him one last glance before going back inside with Yukhei.

You break his heart in August.

SEPTEMBER 2021.

September is supposed to be a new beginning: the transition from summer to autumn. Yangyang doesn’t think he can let go of you as easily as the trees shed their green for gold and red. Wherever he goes, wherever he looks, little reminders of you bloom in every crevice. You’re absolutely everywhere and nowhere, and it drives him crazy.

He thinks he’s gone completely insane when he hears your laugh while he’s walking to the laundromat one day. He shoves his airpods in and continues on his way until he sees you. Walking across the street, there you are. You’re on the phone with someone, and he contemplates going over to say hello. But suddenly, you’re hanging up the phone and waving eagerly at someone. When he turns his head to look, his heart drops and gets buried six feet under. He hurriedly ducks into a nearby bookstore and watches as you run up to Yukhei, slipping your hand into his like it’s second nature to you now. The two of you walk off together, and Yangyang is left standing at the window of the store until the shop owner politely asks if there’s anything he needs.

He doubts a time machine is something they have in stock, so he silently shakes his head and steps out onto the street once again. It is now silent and empty.

He loses you in September.

AUGUST 2022.

A lot can change in eleven months.

You’re twenty two years old, but you feel like you’re eighteen again. You know you’re going to see him for the first time since September at Kun’s housewarming. You had repeatedly assured Yukhei that you’d be fine. After all, life goes on; the world doesn’t stop just because you had a falling out with your best friend, even if it may have been a little more than that. Nevertheless, a year has nearly passed. Time is known to be the best healer, and perhaps your heart has shed its old skin and habits.

Your hand is safely enveloped in Yukhei’s, and the two of you walk towards your older friend’s new apartment. He playfully swings your interlocked hands back and forth, and you giggle, tightening your grip around his fingers. You stop in front of the door, the muffled sounds of a party slipping through the cracks. You suck in a breath, shoulders tensed. He’s in there.

“Are you okay?”

Yukhei squeezes your hand gently, voice laced with concern. You remember to breathe, exhaling slowly and relaxing before nodding. You smile up at him. “I’m okay.”

“If you want, we can go back home now, have another NCIS marathon, and drink this by ourselves.” Yukhei waves around the nice bottle of wine the two of you had brought for Kun. “We can even stop by the convenience store and get some ramen.”

You laugh quietly, the corners of your lips upturning with mirth. “It’s okay, I’m fine, Yukhei, I promise. Plus, I have you, right?”

He brightens up at that, practically beaming at you, and your heart skips a beat. “Right!”

You reach out and knock on the door. Kun greets the two of you, and you enter his apartment. Yukhei still doesn’t let go of your hand, and you follow behind him as you weave your way through the living room, greeting some of your friends. You hear Kunhang calling out to your boyfriend from the kitchen and feel him hesitate next to you. You squeeze his hand gently before letting go and nudging him in the direction of his friend. Yukhei gives you one last look, but you wave him off, smiling goodnaturedly and silently assuring that you’re okay. He swoops down and leaves behind a soft kiss for you before going.

You walk over to the alcohol table, pouring yourself something to drink. Leaning against the wall, you take a sip of your drink, your eyes flitting over the rim of your cup and slowly scanning the room. It feels like forever, like everything is moving in slow motion, like the world is submerged underwater, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.

You find him easily. After all, it’s hard to forget someone whose features you’ve memorized over the past four years. Your eyes map the delicate outline of his face once more, and for a moment, you wonder if red is still his favorite color, or who he shares a carton of Ben and Jerry’s with nowadays. You wonder if he thinks of you sometimes, too.

But then, you wonder where Yukhei is. You search around until you see your boyfriend still standing in the kitchen, laughing at something your mutual friend said. Your eyes soften when you see him grab your favorite snack. You turn back around, your heart swelling in your chest tenfold, and your lips curl upwards, an endeared expression on your face.

That’s when you notice that he’s looking at you.

You brace yourself, waiting for the tidal wave of emotions to wash over you and the quickening of your heart rate to greet you like an old friend. Because that’s what always happens when you’re around him. After all, he is the biggest what-if in your life. He is someone you almost loved forever, someone you almost stayed for.

And yet, nothing happens. You wait a little longer. The world still goes round, and you’re still breathing. There’s no shortness of breath, no erratic heart palpitations, no sweaty palms, absolutely nothing. Liu Yangyang is a stranger in a familiar body, and your heart remains still.

You give Yangyang a faint smile, nodding towards him, and it feels like a sudden jolt in his heart. Time stops, and all he can see is you. You look beautiful. You have always been beautiful. This is his chance. Whatever higher entity out there has taken pity on him and given him a second try to make it right. He finally takes a step towards you, and the tender, encouraging expression in your eyes gives him the strength to take another one. After all, the eyes are the windows to the soul. Clutching his drink in hand, he pushes his way through the crowd. He’s only eight, seven, six, five steps away from you now. A smile grows on his face as relief curls around his heart like a bandage. You’re standing there, waiting for him, smiling at him.

And suddenly, you’re no longer looking at him.

You stopped looking at him.

Yukhei makes his presence known next to you, excitedly chattering about something and gesturing towards the kitchen as he hands you something to eat. It’s a snickerdoodle cookie. Your favorite. Your eyes are fixated on the tall boy, positively sparkling as you beam at him.

Yangyang feels like he can’t breathe. The bandage is ripped off, and all he can feel is excruciating pain like a thousand pinpricks into his heart before the numbness hits. He freezes, rooting himself in that spot on the scratched hardwood floor as his colleagues and friends continue to jostle around him. As his world crumbles around him, he can’t tear his eyes away from you. They stay on you, the barest traces of nostalgia lingering in the dimmed golden flecks of his irises that you had still admired all those months ago. It’s like he’s trapped in a silent film, stuck in a fish bowl and swimming in circles, and he watches in horror as you outstretch your hand and intertwine your fingers around Yukhei’s, leaning up to press your lips against his tenderly. Your boyfriend looks at you like you hung the stars in the night sky yourself (He would believe it if you said you did).

You don’t look at him like that anymore.

Yangyang remembers when you used to. When you used to love him. When you were almost his. He feels something inside of him break for a second time.

The world continues to spin, and yet, he’s still not moving. He’s stuck in quicksand, sinking deeper and deeper as everyone around him moves on—as you move on. He desperately tries to keep you in his view, and his feet finally pick up as he lurches forward. He’s not fast enough. You’re slipping away, walking away from him, hand in hand with Yukhei, disappearing around the corner of the hallway, and he can’t do anything about it. It’s too late. He’s too late. The sticky remnants of cheap beer run down his wrist, and it finally registers in his mind that he had crushed the flimsy plastic cup in his hand sometime in between now and then. In a crowded room full of people, he’s left standing there, alone and lonely.

Almost is the worst way to love someone, Yangyang bitterly realizes. It hurts to lose someone you almost love. No, it was never an ‘almost’. He most certainly loved—loves—you. And it should be impossible to lose someone who was never his to begin with, yet he has. All this time, he thought he had you, but it had always been the other way around.

He was your August, he was your everything, and he is yours.

But you will never be his.

You let go of him in August.

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itssuppertim3 · 3 years

Note

What about... the husbands..... reacting to a vampire LDB?

Skyrim Husbandos Reacting to Vampirism:

Warning: vampire supremacy😩

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Ulfric Stormcloak: He's somewhat intimidated, to be honest. The all mighty Dragonborn, who's harnessed the ability to literally shout a person into the ass crack of Oblivion, is now even more powerful than they were before? Damn... that's kinda hot.

Ulfric will act a bit distant from you for a short while. It isn't that he doesn't trust you. In truth, he wishes to understand you better. He just has a terrible way of expressing it. He'll have a cautious way about him, but he'll eventually realize that you haven't changed. You're still the woman he so dearly cherishes, and he knows that not even a thirst for blood could ever change that.

Veezara: Being friends with Babette and all, he can't say he's all that startled. Curious as he may be, Veezara respects your boundaries, so he won't bombard you with questions. He simply sees it as being your business, and who is he to question such?

That being said, he loves discovering this new side of you. I'm serious. He loves it. Oh? You've assassinated your target by ripping out their throat with your teeth? Mama mia! He'll applaud to that.

Argis the Bulwark: He's sort of empathetic towards your situation. He isn't afraid, but he somehow can't help but feel sorry for you. Upon first being told, he'll most likely say, "oh... I'm so sorry to hear that." Like, um, it's ok big man.

He finds himself becoming very worried for you, even when you single-handedly shoved Alduin's head up his own ass. Argis will ask you daily if you've... eaten anything. And yes, he'll be super awkward about it, too. If you say no, expect him to offer you his. He'll gladly lose a few ounces drops for his favorite thane.

Teldryn Sero: His brows will fly upward, jaw hung loose, all the good stuff. He'll even slip out a baffled chuckle. He's been in the mercenary game for a long time. All types, and I mean all types of people have hired his services. He was already amazed enough that he was hired by a literal national hero, and now he's learned that you're a vampire as well?!

He finds it a very badass addition to your character. Like Argis, he expresses concern for your feeding habits, but supports you 100%. Sometimes, he'll like to admire you when you don't notice. Bloodsucker or not, the contrast of your pale skin to your eyes is just so beautiful to him— more exotic than anything.

Ancano: He won't look very surprised. More like he just ate something sour. I dunno. Mister Bitch Wizard has an attitude with everything he comes into contact with, even the love of his life. Once confessing your secret to him, he won't take it especially well.

When he does come around, he'll simply treat you the same as he always does. But every now and then, he'll try to convince you to return among the living. He's never forceful about it, but it certainly provokes a few arguments. Ancano hates to see you upset, but he just wants what he thinks is best for you. If you do finally agree to accept Falion's cure, he'll be extatic.

Miraak: Oh, enthralled is an understatement. He doesn't exactly find your drive for blood very appealing, but he can't help but be fascinated. He'll have no shame when unloading his curiosity, either. "Are you a daughter of Coldharbour? If so, what was the ritual like? Don't bother sparing any gory details."

If he still happens to be stuck in his sinister ways, he may even ask you to turn him. For a man who is as drunk on power as he is, you can’t blame him for wanting another taste. But—just picture it... two vampire Dovahkiin. Sends shivers down anyone's spine.

Savos Aren: He's also very invested. Turning you into some twisted science experiment definitely isn't on his agenda, but vampirism is one of his top favorite studies. He can't help but geek out when you reveal your secret to him.

Instead of pestering you with questions, it's more so of a harmless survey than anything. He'll inspect you at an impossibly close proximity and simply be caught in his own web of amazement. He loves you more than anything in the universe, but he doesn't hold the title of Arch Mage simply because the name sounds cool. He's the best at what he does.

Romlyn Dreth: It'll take him a while to digest the information. He rarely experiences much of any excitement outside of his usual daily tasks of hauling firewood at the meadery. Hell, much like Teldryn, he was flabbergasted that you were the Dragonborn of all people, and now a vampire?? If it's possible, he just fell even more deeply in love with you.

He's obviously supportive of you, and very resectful of your needs. He understands that vampires aren't ones to linger around during the day, and he's totally fine with that! You could rest in the comforting darkness of your bedroom for a week if you wanted to, and he still wouldn't mind.

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I'm really sorry this took so long, Hershey! After finishing my Miraak fic, the writer side of my brain's been on hardcore slumber mode.

#skyrim #elder scrolls #skyrim husbandos #ancano #argis the bulwark #miraak #romlyn dreth #teldryn sero #veezara #savos aren #ulfric stormcloak #tesblr #fanfiction #romance headcanons

149 notes · View notes

mochegato · 3 years

Text

Jasonette Protection Program

Chapter 1

Jason smirked as the lock disengaged for him. Tim may be ‘the smart one’ but thank God he was predictable. It made things like breaking into his townhouse so much easier. Now he just had to convince him to let him hide at his place for a few days. It shouldn’t be too hard once he knew it would piss off Damian, because again, Tim was predictable, and one thing he reveled in more than tormenting Jason was tormenting the gremlin. And not being able to find Jason would absolutely kill Damian, meaning he couldn’t kill Jason. And none of them would think to look for Jason at Tim’s place of all places.

“Hey, Preten… er… Tim. You here?” Jason called out as he relocked the door behind him. “Come on, Tim. I know you’re here. You said you were going to hang out with friends tonight, which we both know means you’re going to be home alone all night.”

Jason moved through the townhouse looking for Tim, getting increasingly paranoid as he moved. He’d told Alfred he’d be around if he needed anything, and he would never lie to Alfred. So where was he, Jason wondered to himself as he walked past Tim’s bedroom, noting the untouched bed and wandered into the spare bedroom. And who was the woman in the bed? The suspiciously, absolutely gorgeous woman, sleeping peacefully in the bed he was going to use. When Tim was conspicuously missing? Well that was unpredictable.

What the fuck was going on? Tim was paranoid as fuck. And to just leave someone in his townhouse unsupervised? Someone who was pretending like she could sleep through Jason screaming at the top of his lungs? Something was off. “Hey! Person who doesn’t live here!” Jason yelled. “Who the fuck are you and why are you in my brother’s bed?”

The woman’s eyes popped open. Her face scrunched in confusion after a beat, but she slowly closed her eyes again. “Hey, no!” Jason kicked the bed hard enough to jostle the entire bed. “Who the fuck are you?”

This time the woman, who he now realized was probably Tim’s girlfriend that he hadn’t told any of them existed, which he couldn’t blame Tim for, he wouldn’t want to introduce anyone to this family unless he had to either, bolted up to sitting and gasped in a breath. Her head whipped around clumsily to find the source of the disruption. She blinked groggily as she looked around, almost like she wasn’t registering what she was seeing, not really. Jason almost felt bad for waking her up because damn, she must have been really deeply asleep. It was taking her a while to settle back into reality.

Jason’s theory about her not really taking in what she saw was confirmed when her gaze swept past him with no reaction at all. The room was dim, but wasn’t dark. He wasn’t hidden. There was no way she could have missed him. After a few seconds she stopped her scan of the room and blinked blankly, swaying slightly in place, and brought her gaze back to him. She blinked more heavily a few more times as she stared at him as if trying to figure out if he was really there.

Her eyes met his, but didn’t seem to see him. They looked glazed over. He would normally be a bit more sympathetic to the sleep induced daze, but he was already in a bad mood and she was fucking ignoring him and where was Tim? “Yes, I’m real,” he gruffly answered her unasked question. “Now, for the third time, what the fuck are you doing in my brother’s bed?”

She looked down at herself and the bed she was in. Her head lolled unsteadily as she looked around until she fell back onto the bed with a grunt. “I see why your brother is the detective, not you.”

“Excuse me!” he growled at her. Instead of flinching back like a normal person would have, a smile teased on her lips and she turned over on her side, curling happily into her pillow. Jason almost thought she’d fallen asleep and was about to strip the comforter off of her until she slurred out a sleepy question. “So, which brother are you?”

He stared at her, unsure how to react to her. She knew Tim was a detective. How did she know that? ‘Detective’ isn’t a term you could just throw in there like ‘he’s the smart one’ would be, which, he was used to hearing. But ‘detective’ was extremely specific and directly related to their nightly activities. Unless he told her he was a private detective for some reason? Or an inside joke? And she was acting so casual about it, like it was an understood thing. “Jason,” he finally answered. Regardless of whether she knew or not, giving that much wouldn’t hurt.

“Ooohhh,” she smiled against the pillow, not even bothering to open her eyes. “I was supposed to never meet you. You should definitely stay close by. Take a picture of Tim’s face when he sees you with me. It’s going to be brilliant. I would pay to see it.”

He smiled in spite of himself, but quickly schooled his expression. She wasn’t answering his questions. She was deftly avoiding giving him any information. It was so natural, he could almost believe it really was, but nobody in their lives was that innocent. But then again, her body was completely relaxed. He was accustomed to deceptive relaxation, body positioning that appeared outwardly to be relaxed, but the muscles were prone and ready to jump into action in an instant if a threat presented itself. She didn’t show those signs. She was either amazingly good, which would explain how she knew who Tim was, or she really was that relaxed and innocent.

Either way, he still didn’t have a name. “And who are you exactly? For the fourth time,” he asked again.

“Tomorrow,” she murmured as she groped for the covers to pull them back up over her chest. “So tired. Just sleep. Tim will be back soon, maybe. Ask h…” she trailed off.

“You don't care if I share the bed?” he asked suspiciously. This seemed more and more like a trap, but what the hell the trap could be, he couldn’t figure out. He wasn’t married or seeing anyone so it wasn’t like she could blackmail him with pictures. And she couldn’t exhort him by forcing him into a situation where he defends himself against her husband or boyfriend who just ‘happens’ to walk in on them in bed, that was actually a popular one in Gotham for some reason, because they were in Tim’s townhouse and she knew they were brothers so… what the hell could her game be?

“And there was one bed,” she mumbled amused, giggling softly to herself.

“What?”

She waved him off sloppily. “Not worried. You lay one finger on me and Tim will kill you.” She clumsily patted the space in the bed next to her. “Sleep.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch,” he insisted surlily. He waited to see how she would react, but her only response was a soft snore. He snorted. He studied the woman, trying to figure out who exactly this woman was and how close to Tim she was, because not many girlfriends would suggest pranking their boyfriends with cheating… with the boyfriend’s brother, especially when she apparently knew there was animosity between them.

Some of that could be because she was currently quite obviously not quite aware of reality. He was now convinced it was a bit more than just being tired. She had clearly enjoyed her night a bit too much, which he could completely understand. If he had to spend an entire night laughing with Tim, he’d need to be drunk too.

His head snapped in the direction of the front door when he heard the sounds of a lock disengaging and the door opening. He glanced back at the woman in the bed, whose name he still didn’t know, and made a split second decision to trust her despite that fact. The likelihood that she was conning him was far outweighed by the opportunity to prank Tim, and with his friend’s? girlfriend’s? whichever’s help! This was unheard of. Dick’s friends were more than willing to help with a prank, knowingly or unknowingly, but Tim’s friends? Never. At least not with Jason.

He ripped off his jacket and shirt, throwing them toward the corner of the room and hopped toward the bed as he pulled off his boots. He jumped under the covers behind the woman and let the covers pool around his hips, just above his pants waistband. He pulled the covers up to the woman’s shoulders to hide the fact that she was still wearing her shirt. She barely moved at all in response to his actions. He wasn’t even sure if she knew he was there. He really hoped when she woke up that she remembered the prank.

He could hear Tim’s footsteps as he got closer to the door. Just before he reached the door, Jason threw his arm over the woman’s waist and moved closer to her. He just barely cracked his eye open, enough to see Tim, but still look closed if the other person wasn’t watching closely enough.

Tim peeked quietly into the room. He did a double take when he saw the bed. “What the…” Tim started. Jason couldn’t stop the small grin that spread on his face, that is until Tim reacted.

He suddenly threw the door open and rushed the bed. He hauled Jason out of the bed with more strength than Jason remembered him having. Tim threw him against the wall hard enough to knock a few pictures off the wall. His face was contorted in the angriest scowl Jason had ever seen on him. He shoved his forearm into Jason’s throat, pushing hard enough that Jason had to gasp to get air.

Tim moved closer, his eyes sparking with so much anger that for the first time Jason was a bit intimidated. Maybe this hadn’t been such a brilliant idea after all. But, this reaction from the normally composed Tim was definitely unpredictable. The woman wasn’t kidding when she said Tim would kill him for touching her. Tim paused and glanced down toward Jason’s cargo pants, still tightly belted and zipped. When he looked back up, his eyes had somehow narrowed even more. “That better have been just a terrible fucking joke.”

Jason rolled his eyes and tried to push Tim’s arm away from his throat, but Tim wouldn’t yield. “Calm down, Timbers. I didn’t sleep with your girlfriend,” Jason jeered.

“She isn’t my girlfriend, asshole,” Tim sneered back pushing his forearm harder into Jason’s throat. “She’s a good friend who got drugged by someone tonight, intending to do God knows what. So you can imagine how utterly not funny I find you joking about sleeping with her right now.”

Jason’s eyes widened in realization. That… that would explain a lot. “Oh Shit. I’m really sorry, Tim. I swear I didn’t do anything to her.” Tim nodded slightly and lowered his arm, but his expression didn’t soften much. He continued to glare at Jason.

His stare down was interrupted by a soft, tired, slightly slurred voice. “What happened? Tim?” The woman smiled slightly. “You’re home.” Her eyes flicked over to Jason and she stopped to contemplate him. “Hey, you’re real. Did you take a picture?”

Tim whipped his head over to Jason, his heated glare back in place. “A picture of what, exactly?” he demanded.

Jason held up his hands in an effort to placate him. She was really, really not helping them right now. “Of your face when you saw us together,” he explained slowly. Tim drew in a deep breath and his jaw got even tighter. “In my defense, it was her idea,” Jason said quickly, pointing to the woman, “and I didn’t know she was drugged.”

Tim looked away and huffed out an angry breath. He rubbed his forehead. “Of course it was her idea.” He turned to the woman with an exasperated sigh. “You’re not funny, Marinette.”

The woman, Marinette, pouted at him and nestled deeper into the covers. “I’m fucking hilarious,” she mumbled out from under the covers. Her face emerged from the covers as she took them both in. She looked down at Jason’s chest for a second and threw off the comforter to look down at her chest. She pulled gently at the front of her shirt. “Should have taken my shirt off too. Would have been funnier,” she chastised lightly before collapsing back onto the bed and closing her eyes again.

“No,” Tim yelled out holding out his hands in a halting motion.

Marinette opened one eye to glare at him before turning over and snuggling into the covers on the other side. “Fuck you. I have great breasts.”

Tim groaned and looked down mortified. “Oh God, that’s not something I wanted to ever hear coming out of your mouth.”

“And you’re in trouble anyway,” she continued, ignoring Tim’s comment, her words slurring slightly more as fatigue claimed more of her attention. “Why didn’t you tell me your brother was sexy?”

Tim groaned and ran his hand down his face. “And there’s another.” He looked back at her with a serious expression. “Not sexy, annoying asshole.”

“No, she clearly said sexy,” Jason corrected him with a cocky grin.

“Touch her and die,” Tim hissed.

“Protective much,” Jason taunted.

“That’s exactly what I am, protective of my drugged friend,” Tim growled back, reminding Jason of the situation and why Marinette was there in the first place. He turned back to Marinette with a softer expression. “You can do far better than him.” He didn’t even flinch when Jason punched him hard in the shoulder. Jason discretely looked up to see how Marinette reacted to Tim’s words, but she was already sleeping again.

He only looked away from her when Tim punched his shoulder and shoved him toward the door. “Don’t even fucking think about it,” he snapped.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. Whatever, keep your friend,” Jason waved him off, but his eyes found their way back to her as they left the room. “Tell me what happened while I raid your fridge.”

Chapter 2

@jasonette-july-event

#maribat #jasonette #Jasonette July 2021 #Jasonette July #prompt - protection

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m3hgumi · 3 years

Text

— as your college roommate

a/n: im on summer break now !! while i do have stuff planned for the summer ill still be pretty active on this blog (it may not seem like it but im on here almost 24/7 now LOL <33) im currently trying to get my life together (and playing too much genshin) after the hell of the school year so writing is still a bit hard for me to get back into ,,, hopefully this isn’t too bad

pairing(s): itadori yuuji x f!reader, fushiguro megumi x f!reader, kugisaki nobara x f!reader, gojo satoru x f!reader (they’re all platonic btw)

genre: fluff, some chaos

word count: 1.1k

itadori yuuji

enter pure sunshine >:)

be prepared for loads of serotonin HSKSHS

he’s an amazing roommate. super respectful of your privacy, and won’t invade your personal space

he'll be over the moon to be best friends with his roommate, but if you aren't really into that he understands and will respect your boundaries

he offers to do a lot of the cleaning on his own and tells you not to feel bad about it :(

his space isn't the most organized though, he'll need some help on that

his side of the room is filled with posters (except his jennifer lawrence ones bc he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable)

on days where you’re staying up late to finish homework, he’ll bring up meals for you from the dining halls (he’ll even stay up with you sometimes)

whenever he's coming back late from hanging out with his friends (or partying) , he'll try be as quiet as possible not to wake you up

if you have the same classes, the two of you will walk to your lectures together

movie nights almost every weekend no exceptions (unless its midterm or finals week because :'))

if either of you didn't stay up all night working or have any classes in the early morning then both of you will eat breakfast from the dining hall together

gym buddies :)) he'll also take you on jogs during the evenings (assuming you don't have classes or plans)

overall, he's just a great roommate and super fun to be around

fushiguro megumi

unlike itadori, who'd initiate a friendship with his roommate almost immediately, he's a lot more reserved, so it'll take some time for him to warm up to you

the first few weeks were a bit awkward because of this

he was like a ghost, leaving the dorm before you even woke up and came back after you fell asleep

you almost never saw him during the day either, even if you had classes with him

it's not that he didn't want to be friends with his roommate, he was just really skeptical

you can't really complain though because he's extremely organized, and his side of the room almost never gets dirty

like itadori, he'll offer to do some chores for you

he also tries to be as quiet as possible when returning home late to not distrub you

once he warms up to you, you find that he's actually very sweet and caring, just in his own ways, which are rather subtle

if you get sick during the semester, he'll go out of his way to get you medicine and food, but he won't tell you he did and just leave it on the nightstand next to your bed

the two of you will bond over late night study sessions and mental breakdowns :')

he'll help you organize your stuff on your side of the room if you need it

yours and his schedules are stuck on the fridge so the two of you know what times either of you are free to get chores done or to hang out

if you guys have classes together, he'll offer to tutor you if you need help with the material

he doesn't like going to parties that much (mostly itadori and kugisaki are dragging him to them) but usually he'll bring with you along so he's not as lonely (bc we all know how crazy the two idiots can get)

kugisaki nobara

hypewoman roommate (the definition of hot girl shit)

she wasn't expecting to be besties with her roommate, but she's grateful she did

she drags you to all the parties she's going to (and the two of you take turns hauling the other's drunk ass back to the dorm)

she'll take you shopping with her whenever you're free

her side of the room isn't the cleanest, you gotta help her with that (otherwise you both will forever live in a sea of clothes and papers and personal belongings)

she makes you get breakfast and coffee with her every morning

she's kinda loud ,,,, her alarm might scare you bc of how high the volume is LMAO

ironically she'll sleep past her alarm and then not show up to class ,,, then you have to give her your notes

like with fushiguro, the two of you have put your schedules together so you guys could find when yall are free to hang out

the two of you also split chores between each other weekly, and it changes depending on how busy each of you are

if you have the same classes as her, she'll ask you to take notes for her whenever she can't make it to class (as in she overslept her loudass alarm)

if your fashion sense wasn't the best before ,,, be prepared for improvement this girl will REVAMP your entire closet

has you as her emergency contact because of the amount of shit she gets into

whenever the two of you go out, you're her camera person, always taking pictures for her social media

she makes tiktoks with you almost everyday

studying with her is just ,,,,, a whole shitshow (pls help this girl)

okay but if you need help with anything (that isn’t studying), she’s you go-to person. relationship advice? boom matchmaker in heaven. having self esteem issues? she’ll hype tf out for you

you're never gonna have a boring experience with her as your roommate

gojo satoru

ah yes, the extremely hot and rich roommate

but unfortunately, that's all there is to him (aside from the fact that he's incredibly smart)

his side of the room is so messy you can barely even walk to your side without tripping on something of his

he comes home very late all the time, and doesn't make the effort to stay quiet sometimes

he's loud in the mornings (he doesn't sleep much so he's almost always up earlier than you)

he will bug you into coming with him to doing stuff with him even if you're busy

he almost never does his chores, and don't even start on making him go grocery shopping

one time you sent him to do grocery shopping on his own because you were too busy to go, he ended up coming back with a lifetime supply of mochi and other sweets and NOTHING ELSE

ever since then you went shopping with him so he wouldn't overfill your mini fridge again

if it wasn't for the fact that he's rich and was willing to pay for the rent in full without your input, you would've left immediately (but being broke asf you couldn't turn down the opportunity of not having to worry about living expenses)

okay but when you're staying up late at night to study for exams or doing assignments ,,,, this man will literally just sit there and laugh at your misery (like sir help me)

he'll eventually help you (after teasing the shit out of you) and then world peace is restored

if you have a roommate like him ,,, i wish you the best of luck ,,, for you and your patience and sanity

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onebourbon-oneshot-onetear · 3 years

Text

Letterkenny- 5 Times Wayne Fell in Love With You

(Not my Gif)

Notes: This was meant to be a quick little oneshot, but it ended up being five pages long. I figured since there are a few Letterkenny fics I would have to write some myself lol

Warnings: Language (it's Letterkenny, duh...), ooc for Wayne? Fluff?

1. Whenever you helped with the chorin’

- When you were sitting outside, drinking some Puppers in the sun in the middle of an afternoon

- There weren’t enough chairs, but you didn’t mind, so you took your usual seat on the ground next to Wayne so you could lean against his legs

- You had lost track about what exactly the boys were talking about, but it didn’t matter. You were just happy to be sitting around with your friends

-Wayne nudged your head with his knee and you were jolted back into the conversation

- “What do you think, Miss/Mr. y/n?” Dan asked you

- “About what?” you asked

- “Going to MoDean’s for drinks,” Daryl said

- “Sure, I’ll go. When are we going?” You asked

-Wayne gently moved your head from his leg so you didn’t whack it on the chair and stood up. - “As soon as the chorin’ is done, which I was supposed to get help with,” He said, glaring at Dan and Daryl

-You tapped Wayne’s leg so he looked down at you. You held both hands up above your head, silently asking him to help you up.

-He took both your hands and hauled you off the ground with essentially no effort because of the wonderful muscles he hid under his flannels

-As soon as you were on your feet you turned around and started marching towards some of the hay bales

- “Pitter patter, let’s get at ‘er,” You said as you left

- Your back was to the boys so you missed the smile and head nod that Wayne had thrown to your retreating figure

- “y/n isn’t afraid to help with the chorin’, and that’s one of the things I appreciates about them,” Dan said

- “Take 20% off there Squirrely Dan,” Wayne said before marching off to follow you, who was already picking up a hay bale and throwing onto the back of the truck.

2. When you take care of everybody after they’re drinking

- It was hard to imagine since you spent all your time with the group, but you weren’t a big drinker

- You would spend the whole night nursing a beer or two or doing a few shots

-You were definitely the most responsible with alcohol out of everyone

- Which meant it was very often you were stuck with the aftermath of the drinking

- It wasn’t unusual for you to have to shove everyone in Wayne’s truck and drive them all home

- Getting everyone in the truck was the hardest part

-On really bad nights, the three boys were the worst

- “Daryl, I swear to fuck if you try and put your nipples on me one more time, I’m ripping them off,” you growled while helping Gail with putting all the empty bottles on the bar

- “Do you’s want to race me?” Dan barely slurred out, leaning against the bar to catch his balance

- “No, Dan, I don’t,” You rolled your eyes and grabbed the last few bottles and handed them to Gail

-Wayne was fairly easy, he was sitting at the end of the bar, giving a few adorable chuckles about nothing every few minutes

-Finally the bar looked somewhat back to normal and you waved goodbye to Gail and started herding the boys.

-Daryl ran at you with his shirt off, and keeping your promise, gave him the biggest purple nurple he had ever received

-He just laughed at it, but boy would he feel it in the morning

-Dan was now trying to get Wayne to race him, but Wayne was still giggling to himself

- “Hey you two, why don’t you see who can get to the truck first,” you called to Dan and Daryl, and they both damn near tripped over themselves to see who could get there first.

-Daryl definitely won

- You put your arm around Wayne’s shoulders and helped him off the bar stool.

- He flashed you the biggest smile and you were reminded that you actually loved seeing Wayne this drunk because it was the only time he actually relaxed

- “You’re a great fucking gal/guy, y/n” Wayne said between chuckles

-The heat rose to your cheeks, but you assumed he was only saying that because he was so drunk

- “So are you Wayne, now let’s get you home,” You said, leading him to the truck

-Daryl had his bare chest on the door of the car, but you didn’t want to bother with it. You would just let Wayne kick his ass tomorrow

-All the boys were put in the truck and you started your rounds of taking them home

-You got Dan and Daryl to their front doors before you headed to Wayne's house

-Katy said you could stay in her room since she was staying at a guys house for the night

-Don’t worry, you had already threatened the guy with death if he so much as thought about hurting her

- You got Wayne up the stairs and into bed, politely taking his boots off and innocently taking off his jeans and tucked him into bed

-He would give a quiet giggle every few minutes, but he was definitely on the verge of falling asleep

-You got him a glass of water and some ibuprofen and put them on his bedside table before falling asleep in Katy’s room

-The next morning, Wayne would be awoken to the smell of breakfast and he would make his way downstairs to see you in the kitchen in a pair of shorts and an oversized shirt

-He would sit at the table with his head down and you would pour him a cup of juice and set it down in front of him

- “Y/n, thanks for getting us all home,” He would say, albeit much quieter than he usually talked. Probably because of the hangover

- “You’re welcome, Sweetie,” You would say with a huge smile on your face, which would earn you a glare from Wayne, but it would disappear as soon as you put food in front of him. Instead it would be replaced with a grateful smile

-Because he knew you were a great fucking gal/guy

3. When you took care of Stormy

-You loved dogs.

-Like, loved dogs

-More than you loved almost anything else

-So when Stormy wouldn’t leave the barn, you were worried sick

-Wayne was too, but he would never show it

-He would call the vet but even in the small town of Letterkenny the vet wasn’t available 24 hours a day

- When the vet said they couldn’t be there for another day or two, you were devastated

- Wayne said Stormy would be fine for a few days and this wasn’t the first time it had happened

-But that didn’t matter much to you

- So for that whole day you didn’t stray too far from the barn where Stormy was laying

- Katy even brought food out to you when you didn’t want to come in for dinner

-Knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave the poor shepherd for too long, Katy got the couch made up for you to stay with her and Wayne

-He was pretty used to you hanging around the house anyway so it was no surprise and he just accepted it

-What he didn’t expect was to go downstairs in the middle of the night for some water to see the couch was empty

-He went up to Katy’s room but you weren’t there either

-Worry spiked through him as he registered that you weren’t in the house

-Until he saw a light on in the barn

-And he knew exactly where you were

-He put on a coat and grabbed a few blankets and headed to the barn

-When he approached the door, he thought he would see you on one of the chairs, or even laying on the upper deck

-What he didn’t expect was to see you laying in the hay right next to Stormy

-A small blanket covering both of them

-He stared at the sight before him for a minute before placing a heavier blanket on both his girls and taking a seat in one of the plastic chairs

-As he looked you over his heart got that weird fluttering feeling that only happened when he looked at you

-The chair wasn’t comfortable, but he settled down the best he could before closing his eyes

-Because he sure as shit wasn’t going to leave them both out in the chilly night air

4. When you only danced with him

-Wayne wasn’t much of a dancer

-He usually stayed at the bar drinking and watching everyone else

-Until he saw you on the dancefloor with Katy

-Both of you were having fun, without a care in the world

-He didn’t always understand how people enjoyed jumping around a dance floor, pushing into each other

- Until he saw you, smiling and carefree

-He could see how you would enjoy it

- He enjoyed watching you do it

- But when the song changed from an upbeat dance to a slower one, he saw the nervousness on your face

- Katy had gone on to dance with the 2 hockey players, leaving you alone on the floor

- He was going to wave you over for a Puppers, to sit down and have a drink with him

- Until

- Some uptown degen had grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, trying to dance with you

- And even from where he was sitting he could see you say no

- But this degen obviously didn’t know what was going to come to him if he didn’t let you go

- So Wayne took another swig of his drink, stood up, and marched right over to you

- He glared at the guy and shoved him away, standing in front of you until the degen scampered away from the crowd

- “I had him by the ropes,” you muttered, looking down at your shoes

- “Sure you did,” Wayne said, scanning the room to make sure the degen didn’t come back with any friends

- You both stood there awkwardly while everyone else was swaying to the music

- Finally you slyly held your hand out, asking him for a dance

- He looked between your hand and your face, before taking it and pulling you closer to him, his hand on your waist and yours falling on his shoulder

- You were slightly surprised that he had even decided to dance with you, but you weren’t going to question it too much

- It was rare that people saw this side of Wayne, especially in public

- So you just went with it and put your head on his shoulder

- “I thought you didn’t want to dance?” Wayne asked

- “No, I didn’t want to dance with some degen. I’ll always take a dance from you,” you said

- Wayne chuckled and pulled you a little closer

- He’d have to find a way to get you to dance with him outside of MoDean’s

5. When you patched him up after a fight

- Wayne was the toughest guy in Letterkenny

- Everyone knew that

- And for the most part, you liked it

- Except when Wayne had to prove that he was the toughest guy in Letterkenny

- Aka when he had to fight

- He always won, but that didn’t mean he didn’t catch a few hits along the way

- As the reigning tough guy in Letterkenny, Wayne never showed that he was hurt

- He usually hid behind a bottle of Puppers or Gus N’ Bru until the night was over

- Then he would give some half assed attempt to clean himself up

- Except he sucked at it

- So that’s where you stepped in

- Growing up in Letterkenny, you knew how to patch up wounds

- So as soon as you could get him alone, you would, ignoring his protests the whole time

- At first, you had to damn near tackle Wayne to get him to sit down so you could patch him up

- Even jumping onto his back to try and weigh him down

- It didn’t work, he just slung you off and caught you before you hit the floor, set you down, and stormed out of the bathroom

- This happened again and again until you tried a new tactic

- Begging

- Wayne could refuse most people’s begging

- But not yours

- Especially when you hit him with the puppy dog eyes

- So the first time you tried it, and said please, he sat down on the sink in the bathroom with a whispered “fuck a duck”, and let you patch him up

- You wiped the blood from his lip and disinfected the cuts on his knuckles

- And this became a routine almost every time he got into a fight

- Which was a lot

- His reluctance eventually diminished, and you swore that sometimes he looked forward to having you help him

- Although he would never tell his buddies

- But Katy teased you about it from time to time

- The last time you patched him up, Wayne had gotten into a pretty bad fight

- He had a busted lip, a blackened eye, and numerous cuts on his knuckles

- This fight wasn’t a typical ‘Toughest Guy in Letterkenny’ fight

- You had no idea what started this one, but Wayne hadn’t been this hurt in a while

- He had walked into the house where you were watching a movie with Katy, stood in front of you guys for a moment, and then walked into the bathroom and sat on the sink

- Katy had nudged you towards him and resumed the movie

- You walked into the bathroom and pulled out the first aid kit that you had stashed away after the first few fights

- You got out the bandages and hydrogen peroxide and got to work, gently working from his eye to his knuckles

- “I take it this wasn’t a planned fight?” you asked him, throwing a cotton ball into the trash can

- “Not exactly,” he said, “Some fuckin’ degens were talking about some of the girls in town, fucking degens,” he muttered

- “Ah,” I said, putting a small bandage on his right hand

- You're little Batman of Letterkenny

- You went to release his hand but he grabbed yours instead

- You looked up into his eyes and saw that he was already looking into yours

- “You don’t have to patch me up every time, you know,” He said, barely moving his thumb across your own knuckles

- You smiled, your cheeks turning red. “I know, but I want to. Lord knows you can’t do it yourself,” you laughed, not moving

- He gave you a rare smile and let go of your hand

- You finished with his hand and patted his shoulder, signaling that you were done

- He hopped off the counter and watched as you put everything away

- You brushed past him and left the bathroom and went to go sit on the couch and resume the movie

- Wayne went to the fridge, grabbed a Puppers, and sat next to you on the couch

- As the movie played on, you felt your eyes drooping and your yawns had increased, some of them threatening to split your face in half

- At some point your head leaned over onto Wayne’s shoulder and your eyes closed for the night

- Wayne only dragged a blanket onto you and shifted his shoulder down for you to rest your head better

- He ignored Katy’s raised eyebrows and beaming smile and turned his attention back to the movie

- But as he looked at his wrapped hand again, he glanced back at you asleep on his shoulder, and figured enough was enough.

- He would tell you in the morning

#Letterkenny #Wayne #Letterkenny Imagine #Letterkenny Oneshot #Letterkenny Wayne x Y/n

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writtenonreceipts · 3 years

Note

rowaelin the only single person in the friend group?

AN:Enjoy!

The Singles Club Isn’t Always Lonely

As Rowan entered the local bar, he shook rain from his coat and hair. For the past two days it had seemed like constant cloud coverage lingered and that meant rain. Not that Rowan particularly minded the rain. It just grew tiresome. He had yet to find a reason to fully rejoice in it.

He waved to Brullo, the bartender, and headed back to the usual table where he and his friends usually took over. Indeed, Vaughan and Connall were seated drinks in hand and in deep conversation about something. Gavriel and Fenrys were shooting darts—Gav wiping Fenrys’ ass with the score. Though Fenrys was always more in it for the social aspect than the competitive nature.

“Well, look who finally showed up,” Connall called when he looked up to see Rowan crossing the bar towards them.

Shooting his friend a vulgar gesture, Rowan took a seat in one of the stool and drew a freshly opened beer towards him.

“I should ask you all the same question,” Rowan grunted. He took a swig of beer and sighed. “Between wives and girlfriends, I thought you’d all bail on meeting up.”

“Hell, no!” Fenrys shot a wild dart and came to sling an arm over Rowan’s shoulder. “Tradition. As Asterin so lovingly reminds me, I need to spend more time with you losers. I think it’s just so she can go to the shooting range with Manon and Elide, but you know.”

“Nehemia says that I’m hovering,” Connall said. “As if I can hover. She’s seven months pregnant, I should be allowed to be concerned.”

“You’ve texted six times in the last half hour, man,” Vaughan said. He pointed meaningfully to his friend's phone.

Connall scowled. “Concerned.”

“Hovering,” Rowan said. He took another drin.

“You have to let her live her life still, Con,” Gavriel said. He plucked the round of darts from the board and turned back to his friends. “When Endara was pregnant with Aedion she and Evalin would go on week long spa getaways.”

Connall looked absolutely horrified. “But—”

“No,” Gavriel insisted. “Space and foot rubs.”

“That contradicts itself,” Connall muttered.

“Just saying,” Gavriel said.

Sometimes, Rowan found it hard to believe that Gavriel had a son their same age. Sometimes, Rowan found it hard to believe that Gavriel was as old as he was. Of course, he would never say it to the man’s face. Because getting his ass kicked was not on his list of things to do.

“This is why Rolfe and I communicate,” Vaughan said. He grabbed Connall’s phone before he could check it for a nonexistent text.

“You and boyfriend have a very strange definition of communication,” Fenrys said. “You also need to lock your front door.”

“You need to knock,” Vaughan said unapologetically.

Rowan rolled his eyes at his friend's antics. “Where’s Salvaterre? Why am I on the chopping block.”

“Because he texted,” Vaughan said emphatically, “that he would be late.”

“Elide had an important meeting at work and he wanted to take her out for ice cream after,” Fenrys grumbled. “They’re almost as disgusting as Conn and Mia.”

“See,” Rowan finally spoke up, “this is why I am remaining single.”

The group groaned, throwing peanut husks at him while telling him to grow up. Rowan simply laughed. It was a conversation they’d all tried to have with him. Get a girlfriend Rowan. Go out on more dates Rowan. You work too much Rowan.

He knew they were just giving him a hard time. For the most part. But he also couldn’t help but let the words dig into his skin.

They’d miraculously been through a lot together. Despite the age differences between them all, something had drawn them together with a love of history, hand-to-hand combat, and drunken nights of poker.

“Hey, assholes!” Lorcan entered the bar and exchanged a few words with Brullo before coming to the table.

“‘Bout time, man,” Connall called. He kicked a stool out for the other man.

“I was supporting my girlfriend,” Lorcan said, “shouldn’t you be with your wife?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking Elide to marry you?” Connall shot back.

Lorcan launched into a coughing fit just as he took a drink of beer. “What?”

“It’s been two months and all we’ve heard from you is how great this girl is. Coming from you that’s practically a wedding announcement,” Rowan added, grinning fiendishly when Lorcan’s face heated

“Yeah, you know, speaking of relationships, I haven’t seen you taking anyone out lately,” Lorcan groused.

Before Rowan could either shoot Lorcan the finger or snark back to him, Brullo arrived with another round of beer.

The rest of the night passed in easy conversation punctuated Fenrys’ claims that at the next poker night he would win every hand. Granted he was on his third beer as he said this.

It was just like any other night. And yet by the time midnight rolled around, he listened as his friends claimed necessity to return to domesticity.

Nehemia had cravings. Elide, Manon, and Asterin were drunk and needed a ride. Rolfe threatened to watch Bridgerton alone. And Endara claimed Gavriel had left her kitchen a mess.

Life as it should be was chaos. And while Rowan knew he wouldn’t have it any other way, as he paid off the tab with Brullo—consequence of a lost bet—he found himself facing a night of pouring rain and a semi-drunk Connall to haul around.

When Aelin Galathynius swore a life of solitude, it was for a good reason. She’d recently adopted a dog after all and Fleetfoot needed her undivided attention.

Now, five years later, she regretted nothing. Especially when Fleetfoot was such an excellent snuggling companion.

While her apartment was small, and admittedly shabby, it was home. Had been since she’d moved out of last foster home five years ago. Almost every single one of her friends had lived with her in that time. From Manon deeming it for your own good so you don’t end up murdered in this hellish part of town, to Elide claiming that I have no idea how to live by myself, you have to help me.

The apartment had known many people. Had known fights and tears. Had known emotional breakdowns and dance parties.

And yet, as Aelin came home from work on a glorious Friday evening, it felt empty. Even with Fleetfoot eagerly dancing around her feet. Even as she hooked on the leash and took a brisk walk around the block with Fleetfoot bounding along joyfully. Even when she returned home and turned her music on while she made dinner.

Empty.

Only the pouring rain outside gave any indication of the outside world.

Aelin turned her music up louder.

Perhaps it would have been so bad if Elide were here with her. Or Nehemia. Any of her friends. But it was date night and she knew just how much her friends had been missing their boys.

Elide worked so much and she’d recently started dating Lorcan Salvaterre they barely saw each other. Nehemia was having a baby with the love of her life. And then even though she and Asterin weren’t the closest, Aelin did miss her drinking buddy. And Yrene was so busy with her internship that all she had time for was her new marriage.

Aelin couldn’t have been happier for her friends, truly. They were all living their best lives. And so was Aelin.

She’d graduated with her degree in history, specializing in warfare and weaponry. Now she was teaching part-time at a community college and part of a research team that was working an archeology dig out in Wendlyn. Everything she’d wanted. Everything she’d worked so hard to get.

Life was good. Or so she kept telling herself.

“You really need to start locking your door!”

Aelin turned from the mess of spaghetti she was trying to make to find Elide, Asterin, and Manon entering her apartment. She held a spatula out threateningly.

“You can't just barge into people’s apartments,” Aelin said.

“We can if the door’s unlocked,” Manon replied. She wasted no time in kicking off her shoes and tossing her jacket onto Aelin’s couch. “Please tell me you have wine.”

“What’d Dorian do now?” Aelin asked as Manon easily went to the kitchen and found the bottle of wine. Not the cheap stuff.

“Nothing,” Manon grumbled.

Asterin barked out a laugh. “He brought up meeting his parents.”

“And moving in together,” Elide added.

Manon brandished the corkscrew threateningly. “Don’t make me use this.”

Chuckling, Aelin turned the burners of her stove off. “It’s Dorian. You can tell him no to both things and he’ll get it.”

Manon grunted and began chugging her very full glass of wine.

“Lorcan mentioned moving in together,” Elide said. Wine spurted from Manon’s nose and Elide rolled his eyes. “Eventually. He didn’t actually ask just one of those brief passing comments.”

“You know, I still don’t like him,” Aelin said. She dished up a few bowls of pasta and started handing them out.

“Please the two of you are practically besties,” Elide said. She gave Aelin a wink before settling in a chair at the small dining room table.

“Speaking of besties,” Asterin added, “Fenrys just sent me a text. They are getting wasted at the bar.”

“Is Gav with them?” Elide asked through a mouthful of pasta.

“Yeah, thank the Goddess,” Asterin said. “I don’t want to pick his drunk ass up.”

Manon made an approving sound and poured herself another glass of wine. “Because we are getting ourselves drunk.”

Aelin debated taking the wine away from Manon already, but shrugged. She needed a distraction from everything else. Before sitting down, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey she kept in case of emergencies and few glasses. It was girl’s night, why not?

“You do know you’re going to have to talk to Dorian, eventually right?” Aelin asked, pouring out whiskey.

“Shush,” Manon said. “Talking is overrated. We’ll just have sex and get over it.”

Aelin made a face. “I’d rather not think of you and one of my best friends in that way.”

“It’s sex!” Manon shouted. “C’mon, Aelin. I know it can’t have been that long since you slept with someone.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. She most certainly should have taken the wine away. Wine drunk Manon was a whole different animal than whiskey drunk Manon.

“Ohh,” Elide said, already pushing back her half-eaten bowl of pasta for the whiskey. “I might know of someone. Actually, Lorcan knows him.”

“No!” Aelin shouted at the same time Asterin screeched, “yes!”

“He’s very attractive,” Elide said with a knowing nod.

“And works out, a ton,” Asterin added. “He and Fen are training for a marathon.”

Aelin didn’t know whether to be impressed or horrified. She worked out and believed in a healthy lifestyle. But she also believed in chocolate. And cake.

Even as her friends slid side-glances her direction, Aelin ignored them. They’d been hounding her to date more. Ever since Sam had broken up with her when she wouldn’t move across the country with him and the mess with Chaol...Aelin hadn’t been in a serious relationship. And she was fine. Did she miss casual dates? Yes. Someone she could talk to about everything and anything? Yes. Did she miss sex? Absolutely.

On the last item she could rectify that easily. Just swing by the nearest club, but Aelin had always craved connection more than casualties.

She knocked back her shot of whiskey and nabbed the bottle from Manon who was well on her way to drunk.

Elide laughed at Aelin’s diversion from talking and got up to turn Aelin’s stereo up.

“You’ve gotta find a way to support Fleetfoot,” the petite brunette said, “being a single mom is hard.”

“Screw you!” Aelin growled.

“Pretty sure Lorcan’s already taking care of that,” Asterin said.

“No!” Manon and Aelin shouted together.

Cackling madly, Elide downed her whiskey and began dancing. It didn’t take long before all four girls were drunk and dancing madly to the music. And Aelin was able to forget everything else about the day and little comments her friends had made.

It wasn’t until after midnight that Lorcan and Fenrys showed up to take the other girl’s home. Fenry, a bit tipsy himself.

“Baby!” Elide squealed when she threw open the door.

Had Aelin been a touch more wasted she would have missed the soft smile that flitted across Lorcan’s face as his girlfriend flung herself at him. Aelin might not have understood where the hell that relationship had come from but she was slowly starting to accept it.

“Be safe,” Aelin demanded as she ushered her drunk friends out the door, Lorcan assuring her he had only drank one beer over an hour ago.

“Get a Tinder!” Asterin hollered as Aelin closed the door.

And just like that, she was left to an empty apartment.

When Rowan got into the business of researching ancient warfare and artifacts of war, he’d known it would give him hell in the future. Not that he would regret it of course, but for the past five years he’d dealt with questioning papers, developing thesis, tossing out said thesis, and trying to appear that he knew what he was doing.

It was a miracle if he could accomplish that last item.

By the time he made it home from work, he was exhausted. The text from Elide--how she’d gotten his number Rowan had no idea--declaring a night out didn’t help any. But it had been a few weeks since he and his friend--all his friends had gotten together.

So he dragged his sorry hide into a shower and down to Brullo’s bar.

And just like always he was the last to arrive.

“Whitethorn!” Vaughan called out.

Rowan raised his hand in recognition before getting a drink from Brullo.

Already, his friends had their drinks and their girls--and in Vaughan’s case, boy. Nothing about the night seemed far from normal. Even if Rowan wasn’t as familiar with Asterin or Rolfe, being around this group of people always put him at ease.

“You look like hell, Rowan,” Nehemia said with a sympathetic smile. She wore a simple gray dress that showed off her growing bump, her black hair twisted in thick braids.

Rowan offered a returning smile. “It was a hellish day.”

Connall thrust a beer into his hands. “Here’s to make it better. Although my lovely wife has already graced you with her presence, so consider yourself lucky.”

Rolling his eyes, Rowan shoved his friend away. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Too much,” Loran supplied. As usual he was seated in the corner of their table, nursing a beer.

“Where’s Elide?” Rowan asked. “Seeing as she’s the one who made me come.”

Lorcan gestured out to the dance floor. The dance floor. Since when did Brullo let anyone start dancing? Not in the past five years that Rowan and his friends had come. Unless one of them or another patron got too drunk.

But there was some song with a deep, thrumming beat reverberated through the bar. Someone must have bribed Brullo to put it on. Likely the fiends who were dancing like they had no care in the world.

Fenrys and Asterin were practically glued together and were less dancing and more making out. Nearby Gavriel and Endara were mostly laughing while tripping over their feet to keep with the beat of the song. What caught Rowan’s attention however was Elide.

Or rather her dance partner.

The woman was tall, lean, and had the frame of a fighter. She moved so easily to the music that Rowan was focused on her more than the song. Her blond hair hung well past her shoulders in golden waves matching her gold dress perfectly. But perhaps what was so striking was the carefree smile she wore. The way she laughed and leaned into Elide as the song changed to a sultrier chord. But neither woman seemed to notice, or care.

Until the blonde looked up and the low lights emitting from the dance floor set a low fire to her eyes and dug into him, holding him in place. And his breath caught.

Elide broke the spell that had settled over him.

“Rowan!” She yelled and waved frantically for him to join the dancing.

“No,” Rowan called back firmly. The last time he had decided to go dancing with Elide he had ended up shirtless, hungover, and in a car halfway to Mexico.

Elide pouted at him before crooking her finger to her boyfriend. Lorcan was already up and out of his seat making his way toward her. It was still strange to Rowan to see the brute of a man soften for anyone.

Shaking his head, Rowan returned to the bar to get another drink.

“Can I get something as well, Brullo?” The airy confidence of the woman, snagged Rowan’s attention and he turned to see the Elide’s former dance partner standing beside him.

From this angle, Rowan was better able to see that spark of gold and blue in her eyes, a splash of freckles on her nose. She was beautiful.

“You must be Rowan,” she said with a single brow raised.

He nodded and accepted a beer from Brullo. “I am, but I don’t seem to know you.”

Her mouth pulled up on one side. “Aelin. Elide and I grew up together. Figured since I never see her anymore, I had to come see what this place is all about.”

“Elide dragged you out here, didn’t she?” Rowan asked.

“She is terrifying when she wants to be,” Aelin agreed. She offered him a full grin in that instant and Rowan knew that if possible, he would try and make her smile like that again. “And she offered to pay my tab.”

“Meaning Lorcan will be paying your tab,” Rowan said.

“He does have his uses, other than being a brute.” Aelin laughed at that and took the drink Brullo offered her. She turned her gaze on him, those eyes so full of light. “I suppose I should get used to him though. Elide seems to like him.”

She wasn’t wrong Rowan realized. “Anyone that can get Lorcan to actually get out and dance is a miracle worker.”

“Except, she didn’t get you out there dancing,” Aelin said. She let out a soft laugh leaning closer to him.

And there it was, something different. And perhaps Rowan wouldn’t identify it for a long time. Wouldn’t really know what it was. But there was something about Aelin that drew him in. He’d known her for all of ten minutes, didn’t even know her last name, and here he was completely ensnared.

“I don’t dance,” Rowan said.

Aelin cackled. “Not yet anyway.”

She knocked back the rest of her drink and grabbed Rowan’s arm pulling him to the dancefloor.

Perhaps if they’d been paying closer attention, they would have noticed the high-five Asterin and Elide exchanged. Or the passing of bills between Vaughan, Connall, and Gavriel. There was a great deal they didn’t notice.

Not how the rain stopped pouring outside. Not how the emptiness of the night was overcome by more than music and alcohol. It was a silent shift. A careful one. One that would become more than alright with them.

as always thanks for reading!

tags:

please reach out if i missed you and let me know if I put you on the wrong tag list/want to be removed. it’s generally going to be easier for me to just have basic acotar/tog lists and not go into too much worry about that, so just and fyi…anywho

@tottenhamboys20 @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @bamchickawowow @ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan @sassys-world @sleeping-and-books @superspiritfestival @chieflemming @julemmaes @lysandra-ghost-leopard @harrymoncheri @firestarsandseneschals @emikadreams @rapunzel1523 @booksofthemoon @highladysith @fangirlprincess09

#aelin and rowan #rowaelin au #rowan whitethorn #aelin #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin #sjm #fanfiction #aelin ashryver galathynius #anon #prompts #answered #tog #tog fic #the singles club isnt always lonely #tscial

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cuquitalocita · 3 years

Text

kids and car rides 2 -feysand

AN: well, you guys liked the one-shot, so here’s a part 2! this is five thousand words of plotless fluff- hope you like it! if you didn’t read it, here is part one

part three

Rhys had known he was screwed from the very beginning.

It was those damn eyes. It had to be.

From the first comment Feyre Archeron had made in Literature, Rhys had been hooked. Maybe it was the tone in which she spoke the words, almost as if she expected someone to disagree with her even -though what she was saying was brilliant- but Rhys was pretty sure it was the paint stains she always seemed to carry around all over her body, no matter the time of day.

Gods, all he had wanted to do was brush a finger over a paint-stained strand of hair when she had been in his car earlier. Yep, because Rhys had somehow convinced the brunette to let him drive her home. He was still reeling.

Rhys shook his head, running a hand quickly over his face before focusing back on the road in front of him. Soon enough he was pulling into the student parking lot in front of the high school, immediately spotting Cassian and Azriel standing by Cassian’s truck.

Rhys scowled at them before turning off the engine and stalking over to them. He still wasn’t quite over them leaving Thebe out of his sight. But of course, Feyre had been there to find her. And just like that, his thoughts returned to the grey-eyed girl.

His friends fell into step beside him as they walked through the school in silence, still tired due to the early morning. He wasn’t sure whose brilliant idea it was to have football practice before and after school, but Rhys was still bitter about it.

“So,” Cassian snickered. “Did Rhysie have an interesting night?” Rhys shoved him, glaring through violet eyes at Cassian’s shit-eating grin and Azriel’s small smile.

“Shut the hell up, Cassian.”

“I think it’s a fair ask. You finally got the girl to spend some time alone with you and you’re telling me it didn’t go well?” Rhys rolled his eyes, arriving in the locker room.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Oh calm down, Rhys. It’s six in the morning- there’s no one else here.”

“Still,” Rhys insisted. He didn’t know what was going on with him and Feyre, but he doubted she wanted anything about them to start circling around the school. Especially when she was still dating Tamlin Hybern.

Rhys scowled into his locker. How could a girl like Feyre be dating a prick like Tamlin Hybern?

It didn’t matter, Rhys reminded himself. Because Feyre didn’t seem interested in him. So why should he even broach the thought of a relationship between them?

But his thoughts dissipated, quickly replaced with a small smile as he pulled his jacket out of his bag. She had only worn it for a few minutes, but the scent of Feyre Archeron had clung to his jacket like glue. Pears and lilac. Gods, Rhys could get drunk off of it.

“Dude,” Az’s voice rang through the almost empty locker room. “You coming?”

Rhys closed his locker, leaving his jacket inside along with the feelings for a girl who would never return them.

“Yeah.”

Practice was uneventful, his eyes constantly dragging to the empty bleachers, expecting to see- he didn’t really know what. Rhys had showered quickly, shoving himself out of the locker room as students began arriving and walking to their classes.

He was walking to calculus, already dreading what the old man had in store for his students when he passed the art room. Rhys shook his head. There was no way she was here this early. Why would she be?

But he couldn’t help it. So Rhys poked his head through the opened door of the art room, almost dropping the cellphone in his hand when he indeed saw the figure of Feyre Archeron hunched over in front of an aisle.

His heart was in his throat as he gazed at the girl in front of him. She wore a frown, clearly frustrated with whatever was going on in the painting in front of her and the sight brought a small quirk to his lips. Feyre had the tip of a paintbrush between her teeth and she seemed to be mumbling something to herself. Her hair was pulled into some type of knot in her head, also held together with a paintbrush, this one with a small bit of paint on it that was already falling into her hair. Not to mention the smear of yellow paint already on her cheek.

Rhys was full-blown grinning now as he shook his head.

He was shocked out of his staring by a strong hand clapping his shoulder. He recognized it as Cassian’s.

“Dude, you are so screwed.”

Yeah. Yeah, he was.

He saw her again after lunch. Feyre was back in the empty art studio, her brows drawn together as she examined the painting that now looked like a night sky. Rhys was sometimes taken aback by how talented she was.

If only he had the chance to tell her.

Rhys could practically hear Cassian’s voice in his head telling him to do it, so he did. With a light knock on the open door, he walked into the art studio. He couldn’t help but feel out of place with his clunky football gear around the beautiful paintings.

Feyre had jerked up as soon as he had knocked, the paintbrush flying out of her hand as it went to her chest.

“Hell, Rhys! You scared me.” Her gray eyes hardened as she took him in and Rhys couldn’t contain the grin on his face as he pulled up a chair and straddled it.

“Well, that was clearly my intention, darling. What fun would I be if I walked in like a normal person?” Feyre rolled her eyes, regaining her paintbrush and turning back to the canvas as if he weren’t there.

“I wonder, do things like that sound funnier in your head?” she arched a brow. For a moment Rhys was taken up in how simply beautiful she was. She looked like something out of a Disney movie with her big blue eyes and golden brown hair. Rhys was such a sucker for it.

“Aw, come on. We both know I’m funny.”

“Funny looking,” Feyre snorted. Gods, that was cute.

“I think we both know how you feel about my looks, darling.” His jab was rewarded with a pretty blush on Feyre’s cheeks that suited her a little too well. Finally, she placed her brush down and turned fully toward him.

“Is there a reason you’re here? Or have you just come to annoy me?” Rhys grinned, leaning his head on his hands.

“The latter obviously.” At her lack of facial expression, Rhys sighed. “Alright, I digress. I came here with an ulterior motive.”

Feyre arched a brow. “And that is?”

“To schedule my first study session,” Rhys blurted, thinking on his feet. The girl in front of him scoffed, twirling a piece of hair around her finger, and Rhys was struck with the raging desire to twirl it himself. It was sheer self-control that kept him in his chair. Because Feyre didn’t see him like that. No matter how much he wished she would.

“Sorry to tell you, but this isn’t the library.”

“That may be true. But my tutor’s here. I’m staring right after.” Feyre’s open-mouthed response was cut off by the bell ringing and Rhys cursed silently.

“Look, Rhys. I would if I could. But I’m honestly just too busy. This project isn’t working and the deadline is coming up. I’m sorry.” Feyre hauled her backpack over her shoulder and turned to leave the room before Rhys’s arm was shooting out to catch her wrist.

“Wait!” His hand dropped her wrist as she whipped her head back to him and Rhys swallowed. “Come on, go over notes with me for… twenty minutes. Then you can finish your project. I’ll even help you.” Feyre’s eyes flashed gray-blue.

“And how, pray tell-do you intend to do that?”

“By giving you inspiration of course,” he smirked, and the no-doubt accidental smile that broke on Feyre’s lips could have fueled his soul if he was the last man on earth. He shrugged, as if unaffected by the gorgeous smile on her face. “I’d say I’m pretty inspiring.”

Feyre watched him before shaking her head as if shaking thoughts out of her head. “You’re definitely something Rhysand.” She cleared her throat. “Fine. Meet me in the library. Three o’clock. Don’t be late. Have your study material ready and we’ll study. For twenty minutes.”

Rhys bet his smile was blinding as Feyre walked out of the room and down the hallway. He watched her in silent awe. But she had said yes.

Rhys wasn’t even a little embarrassed by the fact that he pumped his fist in the air when he knew she was too far to see him. She was going to study with him.

For a class, he didn’t take.

Shit.

Rhys cursed, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing the recently used number.

“Rhys?”

“Az, you take European Art right?”

“Uh… yeah? Why?”

“Please tell me you have some sort of notes for the class.” There was a sigh on the other end of the line.

“This is for Feyre isn’t it?”

“Will you just answer the question?” Azriel huffed.

“Alright, fine. There’s a blue notebook in my locker- it’s for art. Anything in there should work for study material. Stay away from the back, though. Those are too detailed. Feyre would never believe they’re yours.”

Rhys grinned, ignoring the jab, and thanked Azriel. After sprinting to his friend’s locker and acquiring his notebook, Rhys was strutting back down the hall, a satisfying feeling in his stomach.

She had said yes.

How Coach had actually ended up letting Rhys skip practice to study was beyond him. He had an inkling sensation that it had something to do with Cassian muttering something about a girl to him. Coach had simply rolled his eyes and given him a bi.

And that was how Rhys arrived in the library fifteen minutes to three. He hid behind one of the higher shelves, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans and praying to the Gods that he didn’t mess this up.

Rhys had poured over the detailed notes in Azriel’s journal, thanking the Gods that he had a best friend who was so organized. The class seemed relatively simple, nothing much for him to worry about. He just hoped Feyre wouldn’t think he was stupid for asking the questions he would have to make up. Not lying in the first place really would have been the way to go. But it was much too late for that now.

Twenty minutes. That was all he had. He sincerely doubted that Feyre Archeron would spend more time with him than was necessary. And yet he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

As if hearing his thoughts about her, Feyre, in all her glory, walked into the library at that moment, a phone held in between her ear and shoulder. A small pout was on her face as she shook her head, ignoring the looks of the librarian who clearly pointed to the sign saying phones weren’t allowed.

“It’s not like that Nes…” she was saying as she passed by the bookshelf he was hiding behind. She clearly hadn’t seen him. “We’re just studying. He asked for help and he drove me home last Friday. It’s the least I could do.” The voice on the other end of the line bit something back and Feyre’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Gods! No, that is definitely not what’s happening. Besides, you know I’m going to end it. Nesta, would you please calm down? Look, he’s gonna get here soon, I gotta go.” Feyre rolled her eyes at the person’s response. “Yes, mom, I’ll be careful. Love you too. Bye.”

Rhys was slightly surprised that Feyre felt she needed to be careful around him. The prospect of anything that would even remotely hurt her caused his stomach to tumble uncomfortably.

But he steeled himself and walked over to Feyre who was already sitting at a table at the back of the library, textbooks open. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly when she noticed him before returning to their usual indifference.

“Ready to do this, Archeron?” Rhys wasn’t prepared for the wicked grin Feyre shot him.

“I think I’m supposed to be asking you that. Bring it on, Knight.”

The study session consisted of alternating between watching Feyre ramble through intricate art details and attempting not to be intoxicated by her perfume. Rhys seemed unable to do either without realizing how truly enthralled he was with the girl.

Feyre looked beautiful when she talked about art, and Rhys quickly realized he only needed to ask a simple question to send her on a factual tangent. But he didn’t mind. Her cheeks gained a pretty blush and her eyes twinkled with each sentence.

Yeah, Rhys could watch her forever.

But the buzzing of his phone alerted him that he and Feyre had ‘studied’ for much longer than twenty minutes, and it was time for him to pick Thebe up from the elementary school.

“Any other questions?” Feyre asked, without noticing his phone.

“You ready to go?” She started in place as she finally turned from her textbook.

“What?”

“If you didn’t notice, our twenty minutes ended a while ago, darling.” Feyre scowled at the nickname but Rhys continued. “And it’s time for my end of the deal.”

“Your… what?”

“I told you I would help you with your art project. So let’s go. I have to pick up Thebe, but if you want, you can come home with us, and we can try to figure your project out.”

Feyre smiled at the mention of his little sister and Rhys’s heart did a little relay in his chest. But Feyre shook her head, packing up her bag.

“Thanks, but I don’t know how you could help. It’s a mental thing and I… should figure it out on my own.”

“Come on, Feyre. Are we gonna do this again? Just let me try. Besides, Thebe misses you.” Rhys was smirking the moment he saw Feyre’s resolve crack.

“Fine. I’ll do it for Thebe.”

“Feyre!” Rhys almost frowned at the excitement in his little sister’s voice as she jumped into the back of his car. She had never greeted him like that.

“Hey, no hello for your big brother?” Thebe stuck her tongue out at him in the rearview mirror and Feyre choked out a laugh from beside him.

“Of course not. Because you aren’t her game buddy, now are you? Right Thebe?”

“Right!” Feyre smirked in triumph as Rhys gaped at her. But he couldn’t even be offended if the sickly sweet feeling in his stomach was any indication. Rhys had been amazed from the beginning with how good Feyre was with Thebe. She had always been a good kid, but recently Thebe had been on a rebellious streak.

But the little girl seemed to have a weak spot for Feyre Archeron. Rhys couldn’t say he blamed her. So as Feyre reached over and turned on the stereo in his car without his permission and smiled at him when he looked at her, he decided he would be okay with being whatever Feyre wanted to be. Because he didn’t know if he could live without being able to see that smile.

The ride to his house was silent and content, Feyre smiling at Thebe in the rearview mirror as she kicked her feet to the tune of whatever song was playing. The second he pulled into their driveway Thebe was out of the car and sprinting to the front door. After a kind scolding from Feyre about running away from her brother, Rhys unlocked the front door and led the two girls in.

He could already smell his mothers cooking on the stove and sweet, melodic music flowed through the house. He gazed at Feyre as she looked around, a small smile on his face.

He was so screwed.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Before Feyre could reply, Rhys was walking to the kitchen mumbling, “I’ll get you a water,” and leaving her with Thebe.

“Rhysand,” his mother hissed the second he crossed the threshold into the kitchen. She was in front of the stove holding a wooden spoon. “Is that a girl out there?” Rhys scratched the back of his burning neck.

“It is.” He was rewarded with a smack to the back of his head. “And why exactly have I not had an introduction?”

“It’s her first time over here, Mom. I don’t want to freak Feyre out.”

“FEYRE?” Rhys winced as soon as he realized his mistake. “The one you and the boys talk about all the time?” He almost laughed at the resemblance between her and Thebe, but he was too busy blushing down to his toes.

“Yes, now can I please go back out there? There’s a good chance she ran away.” His mother rolled her eyes.

“Rhysand Knight, you bring that girl in here right now and introduce me to her. If she’s anything like Thebe tells me then something tells me we’ll get along just fine.”

“Mom-” the look she shot him demanded he keep his mouth shut and do what she said. So Rhys walked back out the living room where Thebe was coloring something on a bright orange piece of paper. She was speaking to Feyre, her hands moving in all directions as Feyre watched her, nodding along in understanding. There was no way she understood what Thebe was saying.

Feyre’s gaze snapped up as he walked into the room. “What’s up?”

“Uh, my mom wants to meet you. Is that okay?” Rhys was ready to start rambling before Feyre stood up and walked over to him.

“Sure thing. I’d love to meet the woman who raised my favorite Knight. I’m talking about Thebe, by the way.” Rhys rolled his eyes, shooting her a small grin.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go Archeron.” Rhys lightly pushed the small of her back forward and they walked side by side back to the kitchen where his mother now held a knife. Feyre’s laid back demeanor quickly diminished as she gazed at the older woman and Rhys had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

“Feyre,” Rhys said through a laugh. “This is my mom. Mom, this is Feyre. She’s here for some inspiration.”

Whatever Rhys had expected to happen was thrown to hell as his mother surged forward and enveloped Feyre in a hug. In a short bit of hesitation, Feyre hugged her back and smiled.

“It’s so nice to meet you, dear. I’ve heard so much about you- from both of my children, surprisingly. Although Rhysand didn’t tell me how beautiful you were!”

“MOM!”

Feyre was blushing up to her roots but she smiled back nonetheless.

“It’s so nice to meet you Mrs. Archeron. Your house is beautiful. And your children saved my life last Friday at the football game. Quite the athlete you’ve got here by the way.” Rhys frowned.

“I didn’t know you watched the game.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” she said, turning to him and shooting him a sly smirk. “I was talking about Thebe. She’s pretty fast.” His mother laughed as Rhys rolled his eyes. “I knew I would like you. And I suppose I have you to thank that I have my daughter here today?” Feyre shook her head, accepting the water bottle his mother offered her.

“I didn’t do much. It was a right place, right time sort of thing. Besides, I think we all run away when we’re children. I’m just glad she’s okay. She’s just a kid- I’m sure she’ll learn not to run off eventually.”

“I hope so,” Rhys and his mother echoed at the same time. Feyre looked between the two, a small smile growing on her face as she reached into her backpack and pulled out a pen and a pencil. Rhys shot her a questioning look but she simply shook her head, letting him know that she was in no rush to stress about her project.

“So, Feyre.” His mother had returned to her chopping board and was cutting some carrots. He crossed the counter and pulled out a cutting board for himself and began to help her, catching Feyre’s eye in the process. The smile he shot her was one of pure happiness, and if he had known her better, he would’ve guessed the one she returned was the same. “Rhysand tells me you’re an artist.”

Feyre laughed a little. “Artist'' is a broad term. But, yes, I paint. And draw sometimes too. Your son would know, since tearing me away from my work seems to be his favorite hobby.” Rhys would have paled if not for the twinkle of amusement in Feyre’s eye and he flicked a droplet of water at her, causing her to reach over and pinch his side.

Rhys yelped, and Feyre’s smile turned positively wicked.

“Are you…? Are you ticklish?” Rhys squawked in offense.

“I am not!”

“You are too,” his mother and Thebe’s voices harmonized together. The little girl had wandered into the kitchen not long ago and was sitting on the bar stool next to Feyre, holding her own colorful crayons and paper.

“Wow,” Feyre mused from across the table. “Rhysand Knight: star quarterback. Ticklish.” She let out a melodic laugh and Rhys knew he would allow himself to be embarrassed for life if only to hear it again. Thebe giggled from beside her and Feyre arched a brow.

“I wouldn’t be giggling if I were you, Thee,” she warned, wiggling her dexterous fingers at the little girl. Thebe let out a high pitched squeal as she attempted to back out of the chair, Feyre’s hand behind her the only thing keeping her from falling backwards.

“No...no! Feyre no! Don’t-!” the little girl protested. But it was too late, and Feyre had scooped the little girl into her lap, tickling her sides with fervor until tears of laughter were streaming down her chubby cheeks. Feyre was laughing along with Thebe, even as the little girl tried to reach for her own sides to tickle her.

Rhys turned around and stared at the wooden cabinets for a moment. This feeling, in his chest. He had never felt it before. Like every bit of sunlight in existence was shoving its way into his soul, and there wasn’t enough room for it so it simply grew bigger. He couldn’t explain the happiness that coursed through his body at the sight of Feyre with his sister. He didn’t want to.

By the time he turned back around, the two girls had called a truce, yet they both gazed at each other, eyes in slits.

“Finally found her weak spot, Thee?” Thebe pouted, crossing her tiny arms in front of her and shaking her head resolutely.

“She’s not ticklish!” the girl complained in a whine and Feyre laughed.

“Sorry, Thebe. It’s an Archeron family trait.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rhys stated, placing his knife down in the sink and turning back to Feyre, who was now looking at him with wide eyes as he approached her. Feyre backed up and out of the kitchen, her hands in front of her as if to defend herself.

“Rhys, NO. Rhysand, don’t you dare. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare! Rhys no-”

The rest of her sentence was replaced with a sharp gasp as Rhys reached for her, his longer arms and legs allowing him to easily reach around Feyre’s waist and pull her to his chest. She shrieked as his fingers found her neck, tickling without restraint and causing a cacophony of laugh to explode from her as her body attempted to spring away from his.

Not ticklish my ass.

“Rhysand Knight, you let go of me right now!” she managed to get out in between out of breath laughs. Rhys almost didn’t hear her over the overwhelming scent of her shampoo in his senses. But when he did, Rhys smirked.

“Hmm… no, I don’t think I will.” He didn’t think twice before hauling Feyre over his shoulder and carrying her back to the kitchen, her fists pounding uselessly on his back. Thebe and his mother watched the two of them with wide smiles and his sister clapped her hands in excitement, reaching out for Feyre as Rhys put her back down.

“My turn!” Feyre raised a brow, clearly confused. But realization struck her face too late and Thebe was already reaching towards her.

“Thebe! Come on, we’re friends, right? What about being game buddies? Game buddies don’t do this to each other!” But she was a girl on a mission, and Rhys tugged Feyre towards his chest once more, ignoring how well they just fit as he held her arms down.

Thebe tickled Feyre’s neck relentlessly until she had no choice but to shield herself. Feyre turned, burying her head in Rhysand’s chest. He ignored the fact that it offered no protection to her neck and pulled her closer, disguising the movement with the laughter in his chest. Rhys would trade anything for the moment to never end.

“Okay you two,” his mother cut in. “Release the prisoner. We do want her to come back, don’t we?” Rhys finally released her, immediately missing Feyre’s warmth. She shot him a dirty look that held absolutely no bite and the twinkle in her eye and flush in her cheeks changed her face entirely, reminding him once more of how beautiful she was. It knocked the breath out of his chest for a moment.

But he finally managed to pull himself together, returning back to the carrots on the counter as Feyre settled back into the chair next to Thebe.

“Traitor,” she hissed playfully to the little girl.

“Hey, don’t mess with the Knights. Right, Thee?” Rhys cut in from across the counter, reaching out to give his little sister a high five which she excitedly returned. He caught Feyre’s eyes and the blatant happiness in them made his heart flip.

His mother watched the two with amusement, her cheeks shining with a happy blush. The knowing look she shot him had Rhys clearing his throat and returning his attention to the carrots in front of him.

“So, Feyre. Do you have any siblings?” Feyre jerked, as if shocked out of her thoughts before smiling at his mother.

“I do, actually. I have two sisters, Nesta and Elain. Both are older than me. Nesta is a freshman at Prythian and Elain is planning on going there next year too.” Feyre was twirling her pen around her finger and Rhys quickly realized it was a habit of hers. He found it adorable.

“What about you?” he found himself asking.

Feyre’s pen stilled as she looked at him, as if surprised he had asked. But how could she be? He wanted to know everything about her.

“Velaris. For art,” she said finally. “That’s where I wanna go.” Rhys hoped Feyre hadn’t noticed the change of pace of his cuts. Rhys had been born in Velaris, and had lived there until he was ten before moving to Prythian. He had loved it with everything in him. Still did. Rhys thought he was pleasantly surprised yet again by another thing he and Feyre Archeron held in common.

“Really?” his mother asked knowingly. “How come?” Feyre’s eyes lit up, taking up an almost angelic glow. Rhys tried not to stare.

“It’s gorgeous. The city itself, and the lights, and the stars, gods, I could look at the stars of Velaris for eternity.” The life in which Feyre spoke the words had Rhys meeting her gaze. And something so taut pulled between them, he thought something would snap, if not his self control.

“What’s your project on?” he croaked out instead. Feyre cleared her throat, looking away from him and down at a scribbled on piece of paper next to Thebe. Her masterpiece.

“Um,” her voice was hoarse. “Love.” Although she wasn’t looking at him, his gaze snapped to her, noticing her now red cheeks.

“Love?” asked his mother.

“Love. A piece of art that represents my definition of love,” Feyre replied, finally looking at him. Gods, she was beautiful.

“Rhysie! I wanna help!” Rhys startled, looking at his little sister who was now holding out her hands for his knife. Rhys laughed, shaking his head and placing the knife down far away from her.

“Sorry, Thee. No knife today. Actually, no knife for a while.” His sister’s gaze narrowed, ready for war. But Rhys reached over the counter, careful not to brush his arm with Feyre’s, and picked up his sister, quickly sitting her on his shoulders.

She giggled in glee and Feyre beamed at the little girl. Rhys had a feeling Thebe wasn’t the only one with a soft spot.

“Here,” he said. “You can help from up here.” He tickled the bottom of her foot and grinned as she laughed. He loved this little goofball.

“Rhysand, you drop that little girl and I will knock you on your ass so hard you won’t be able to breathe for a week,” his mother warned. Feyre let out a loose laugh at the statement and Rhys playfully glared at her. She returned it in kind.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he swore. “Scouts honor.”

“Were you in scouts?” Feyre asked.

“No,” cut in his mother. “No, he was not.” She hit the top of his head and Rhys winced through a laugh.

“Aw,” Thebe cooed from above him. She began to rub his head. “There, there. Feel better Rhysie.” Finally Rhys smiled, looking up at the pair of violet eyes that matched his own.

“Thanks Thee.”

A rustling sound had him looking back to where Feyre was. She had grabbed a piece of Thebe’s construction paper on the table and was reaching for a dark blue crayola crayon. Rhys watched as she bit her lip in concentration and her hand began to move over the paper.

Feyre looked up again only to find him watching her. He quirked a brow in question and the smile and shrug she gave him in return was the sun on a cloudy day.

“I think I found some inspiration.”

Rhys was in love with Feyre Archeron. There was no denying it, as he stared at the row of finished final products in the art studio. The snarky and quick witted girl had captured his heart and Rhys was more than willing to give it to her. She could do with it as she pleased.

He had fallen wholly and deeply for her.

And as he gazed at the bright orange paper in front of him, at the sketch of a kitchen and a mother, a son and a laughing girl, he thought he might’ve fallen a little bit more.

i love these two :)

#feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #acotar #acomaf #feysand fic #sjm #a court of thorns and roses

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iamtrebleclefstories · 3 years

Text

I believe in second chances - part seven

teasing friends and wedding dates

hi, it’s been a minute. life got crazy busy and I had major writers block. if you need a refresher on what happened previously, go check out my master list

—Part 7—

“Wow, you clean up nicely,” Meredith teased as she walked into the attendings lounge to find Alex getting ready for the wedding.

“He’s taking Wilson with him to Bailey’s wedding,” Jackson shot a sly smile over their way. “That’s why he keeps fiddling with his tie.”

“Shut up,” Alex grumbled as he straightened his tie for the fifth time.

“Aww he’s nervous,” April laughed as she fastened her earrings. “How sweet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this flustered, Karev.”

“I’m not nervous,” Alex furrowed his brow and smoothed down his jacket. “I just want to look nice. Is that so bad?”

“Oh, he’s totally nervous,” Cristina snickered. “Twenty bucks says he makes a fool out of himself tonight.”

“Nah, I think he’s gonna get laid tonight,” Jackson’s lips curved up into a grin.

“Will you guys shut up already?” Alex huffed, annoyed at their constant meddling. “We’re going as friends. I already told you guys. I’m not rushing anything, I’m not pushing anything. And my goal isn’t to get into her pants.”

“I hate this mature, sappy side of you,” Cristina scowled in disgust. “You’re no fun anymore. What happened to filthy, diseased, manwhore Alex?”

“He fell in love,” Alex replied simply, gaining a slew of raised eyebrows and surprised looks from his friends.

“Woah he actually said it. He admitted that he’s in love with her,” April’s jaw dropped.

“Pay up, Avery,” Cristina extended her hand. “I told you he was gonna say it.”

“You guys suck,” Alex glared at them and stood up from the chair and walked towards the door. “I’m leaving. I’ll see you guys at the wedding.”

Alex walked out of the attendings lounge and over to the intern locker room, palms sweating. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. It wasn’t as if he and Jo hadn’t spent alone time together. They’d gone out to the bar and for pizza after work multiple times. This wasn’t anything they hadn’t done previously. Even in the before, when Jo and Alex weren’t nearly as close as they were now, the concept of the two of them going out alone wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But for some reason, Alex couldn’t slow the hammering of his heart as he approached the locker room.

Straightening his tie one more time and clearing his throat, Alex walked into the room. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as Jo walked out of the bathroom and mooted out her dress. Jo’s eyes widened as she saw Alex waiting in the doorway, dressed up in suit and tie, fidgeting nervously.

She blushed lightly when she noticed his staring, “You clean up nicely.”

“Thanks,” Alex smiled bashfully. “You… you look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Jo’s cheeks flushed at the compliment.

They stood there awkwardly for a second before Alex shook himself from his thoughts and spoke, “You ready to go?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m ready,” Jo answered and grabbed her purse, walking out the door Alex held open. “So… Bailey’s actually getting married today.”

“Yup,” Alex nodded.

“Guess that means the interns should stop calling her booty-call Bailey. Since she’s going to be a married woman and all,” Jo chuckled slightly.

Alex let out a snort. He’d forgotten about the nickname the interns had given Bailey his first year as a fellow, “Yeah… might be a good idea.”

*****

“Dude go talk to her,” Jackson urged Alex. “She’s been sitting at the bar alone for the last twenty minutes. You need to go over there before one of the groomsmen tries to pick her up and take her home tonight.

Alex shot Jackson a glare, “Shut up, no one is going to take her home tonight except me.” His eyes widened when realized how that sentence sounded. “I mean… I’m going to, I just… I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to say.”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to seeing you like this,” April took another sip of her wine. “Just have a conversation with her like a normal human being. Jackson is right. You can’t sit here forever.”

“I know that,” Alex groaned when April and Jackson’s pagers went off.

“Well, it looks like you’re going to have to go talk to her now because we are leaving,” Jackson smirked and held out his hand for April to follow him.

“Good luck Romeo,” April waved as she and Jackson walked away.

Alex exhaled and made his way over to the bar where Jo was sulking. Burying his hands in his pockets and plastering a nervous smile on his face, he motioned for the bartender, “Beer for me and another round for Hobo Jo. Let me guess… Thunderbird? Or is it straight paint thinner?” He grinned at the bartender. “You got a little brown paper bag you can put that in?”

“Stop that,” Jo rolled her eyes as a smile creeped its way onto her face. “I had no parents. I lived in my car. But you can’t exactly say you’re any better, “Mr. I went to juvie.’”

“Shut up,” Alex laughed. “At least you didn’t have to see your schizo mom go after your baby brother with a steak knife. Which reminds me - I should call and check on them. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, that might be a good idea,” Jo hummed. She looked down at the drink in her hand. “Where did Kepner and Avery go? I thought you were talking with them at the table.”

“They got paged for a trauma,” Alex answered.

“Do we have to go?” Jo stood up from the chair. “Let’s go.”

“Oh no,” Alex guided Jo back to her seat. “You don’t get to practice medicine with booze in your system. Besides, you’re on peds and we’re not needed.”

“But I wanted to get in on a cool trauma surgery,” Jo pouted.

“If you keep drinking like that, you’ll be the trauma case,” Alex quipped, eliciting a playful glare from Jo. “After this, no more paint thinner. I’ll buy you a couple beers, though. I know your limit on those.”

“Kill joy,” Jo responded and ordered a round of tequila shots, leaving Alex to stare in disbelief. “Oh come on, do at least one round of shots with me. I’m much more fun to be around when I’m drunk anyway.”

“Call me crazy, but I prefer you sober,” Alex pushed the shot glasses the bartender had placed in front of them away from Jo.

“Alex. Please,” Jo looked at him with wide eyes and stuck out her bottom lip.

“Really? Puppy dog eyes. You’re seriously going to go there?” Alex gave her an unimpressed look.

“Is it working?”

Not being able to say no to that face, Alex relented, "Fine. But only one round of shots and no more. I don't feel like throwing you over my shoulder and hauling your drunk ass out of here tonight."

"Why not? That sounds like fun," Jo's eyes shined brightly.

"Shut up," Alex rolled his eyes.

*****

"Oh my God, did you see his face?" Jo held her stomach as she cackled. "It was priceless. And your face! Your face when he walked in was hilarious."

"And then you threw the vodka shots at him," Alex wiped a couple tears. "Oh man… I haven't laughed like that in years."

It was true, the first time he'd experienced breaking into a stranger's hotel room in the before had been hilarious, but this time around was somehow funnier than he remembered it. Maybe it's because he knew Jo better in this reality. Knowing who she was made it easier to laugh with her and be himself.

Something that he was reminded of since waking up in this timeline was that he never had to be afraid to be himself with Jo. In this timeline as well as the previous one, she had immediately accepted him for who he was. It was an overwhelming realization. Before Jo, no one had simply accepted him for who he was and not who they wanted him to be. Sure his friends accepted him--eventually--but It wasn't without trying to change him first before realizing that this was who he was.

He fought the desire to just pull Jo into his arms and kiss her. He couldn't do that. Not when everything that happened in this timeline depended on the decisions he made going forward.

Still, Alex couldn't help himself as he stared at Jo who sat at the Kitchen island with a carefree smile on her face. So, he finally made his move, "Let's go out today. We both have off, we should do something fun, go somewhere nice.”

"Why would we go out when we can laze around and do nothing here?" Jo reached out for a banana that was in the bowl in front of her. "Besides, going out during the day isn't really our thing. If we go out it's usually for drinks after work and we inevitably end up back here and sit on the couch watching bad TV and joking around for hours until we fall asleep. Plus, I don't even want to think about alcohol after last night. And I definitely do not want to see the state of my liver."

Alex shook his head, "I'm not asking you to get day drunk with me. I'm asking you to go out with me."

Jo's jaw dropped and the banana in her hands fell onto the counter and her eyes looked as though they might bulge out of her skull at any second. She opened and closed her mouth a couple times before speaking, "Oh… You mean a… Oh!" She blinked at him a few times. "Alex… I'm just… I come with a lot of baggage--"

"I know, and that's okay," Alex assured her.

" I'm- I'm not ready to be with anyone yet," Jo attempted to let him down gently. "I like you, I really do. You're probably my best friend. But I need to fix my mess first. One day soon, I'll do it. I'll fix the mess in my brain and I'll be ready."

"Okay," Alex nodded. "Well, I'll be here when you are."

If Jo needed any confirmation or indicator as to what kind of man Alex was, that one comment was enough to crush any doubts she may have had about his character.

"You'd really do that? You'd wait?" She asked.

"Look, I'm going to say something that might freak you out a little because you get squirrely when you're scared, but Jo… I want you and I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait my whole damn life for you because you're worth it. You’re worth being waited on," Alex sighed, eyes softening at the woman sitting across from him. "For now, we're whatever you want us to be. You're taking the lead."

"Let's go out," Jo shrugged. "I mean, we're friends, right? We can still go out. Friends go out with each other."

"Yeah," Alex replied casually. "We can do that."

"Okay."

#jolex #jolex fanfic #alex karev #jo wilson #grey's anatomy #jo x alex #grey's anatomy fanfiction #jolex fanfiction #jo and alex #grey's anatomy fanfic #meredith grey #cristina yang #april kepner #jackson avery #rewriting canon #callie torres #miranda bailey #I believe in second chances

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gingersnapwolves · 3 years

Text

The Untamed, a brief summary [Part 4/6]

Part One: Sword Wizard School

Part Two: The Search for the Yin Iron and the World’s Worst Summer Camp

Part Three: The Fall of Lotus Pier and the Sunshot Campaign

Part Four: The Downward Spiral

Ext, Nightless City [Qishan]

The war is over. Everything should be great now, right? Wrong.

Wei Wuxian has slept for three days. Jiang Yanli tells him that Lan Wangji was playing music to cleanse him of all the evil energy for most of those three days and that’s the only reason he’s awake so soon. Lan Wangji comes in to play more for him, even though Wei Wuxian is in the ancient Chinese version of his underoos. It’s cute.

Everyone else is having a serious meeting. Meng Yao has been legitimized by his father after killing Wen Ruohan, and this is a Very Big Deal. His name is now Jin Guangyao.

ENTER BAD TOUCH MAN

This is Jin Guangshan. He’s Jin Zixuan and Meng Yao/Jin Guangyao’s father. He sucks, big time. Everything about this guy is terrible. He’s a misogynist, a bully, and a patronizing piece of shit.

Jin Guangshan is having all the remaining Wens hunted down and killed, including the civilians. Nie Mingjue is cool with this. Lan Xichen says ‘hey, maybe murder isn’t the answer?’ but everyone tells him that murder absolutely is the answer and he shouldn’t worry about it.

ENTER THE HUMAN VERSION OF A CAR ALARM THAT HAS BEEN GOING OFF FOR AN HOUR IN YOUR WORK PARKING LOT

This is Jin Zixun, not to be confused with Jin Zixuan. Jin Zixuan is the former fiancée of Jiang Yanli and a spoiled brat but earning some brownie points as the story goes on. Jin Zixun is his cousin, and he has zero redeeming qualities.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have gone out for a romantic stroll. They find a batch of Wen civilians who are in chains, being hunted down and shot for sport by Jin Zixun. Somehow Wei Wuxian manages not to murder him, but it’s close. They play a requiem for the dead people to help their spirits find rest. ~just couple things~

Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, and Jin Guangyao swear brotherhood to each other in a cool ceremony that was definitely Lan Xichen’s idea.

Int, Nightless City [Qishan]

Jin Guangshan is throwing a big party since they won a war. Wei Wuxian doesn’t really want to go and spends most of it getting drunk outside. Relatable to be honest.

Jin Guangshan says to Jiang Cheng ‘hey remember when your sister was engaged to my son? That was cool, let’s put that back on’. Jiang Cheng looks like he’s been staked out on an anthill. Wei Wuxian comes in and is borderline rude to Jin Guangshan, saying he should ask Jiang Yanli herself. Jiang Yanli, with a retail smile that rivals Jin Guangyao’s, politely says that hey, her parents just died, her home is in ruins, why don’t they leave her alone for a decade and then she’ll think about it. Wei Wuxian bounces because he’s not a party person.

Jin Guangyao announces that in six months, they’re going to be holding a group hunt in Lanling and everyone’s invited.

After the banquet, Jin Guangshan asks Jin Guangyao how much he knows about Wei Wuxian, especially that cool amulet he used during the battle. Jin Guangyao says he’ll find out and then find a way to get it. I cry about the fact that I liked him a lot more before he started sucking up to his shitty dad, even though I understand why he’s doing it.

Ext, Lotus Pier [Yunmeng]

Our trio goes home and starts to clean things up. Wei Wuxian is drinking a lot, not setting a good example for the new disciples, and still won’t carry his sword. Jiang Cheng – remember, he doesn’t know that Wei Wuxian gave him his golden core, and thinks he can still cultivate – tells him to get his shit together. Jiang Yanli, as always, mediates.

Int, Cloud Recesses [Gusu]

Lan Wangji is also home. He’s studying manuscripts to find music that will help heal Wei Wuxian from the resentful energy. What he has isn’t good enough and he wants to go to the restricted section of the library. Lan Qiren refuses to allow him in, confines him to Cloud Recesses, and basically says ‘forget about Wei Wuxian, he’s evil now’. For obvious reasons, Lan Wangji does not like this advice.

Ext, some city [Yunmeng]

Lan Xichen arrives for a visit, finds Wei Wuxian, and gently reminds him that people are worried about him and he should remember his actions impact other people. Wei Wuxian interprets this as ‘you’re evil and it’s hurting people, specifically my brother’ instead of ‘we want to help you’, and shuts him out. It hurts. He came so close. *sobs*

Ext, Lotus Pier [Yunmeng]

Jin Zixuan turns up to formally invite the Yunmeng sibs to the crowd hunt. He acts like an awkward turtle. It seems like he might have realized he was being a dick this whole time. You know what that is? Growth. However he still says that it’s his mother who wants Jiang Yanli to come, because he sucks at this.

Ext, Phoenix Mountain [Lanling]

It’s the crowd hunt! Everyone’s there. They’re having an archery tournament to determine who will get to go in first.

Wei Wuxian flirts with Lan Wangji and taunts Jin Zixun, who asked for it. But then a bunch of Wen civilians are paraded out in chains to serve as ‘obstacles’ to make things more ‘interesting’. Somehow this does not end with Wei Wuxian murdering all the Jin sect members present. He definitely wants to, but then he looks at Jiang Cheng and remembers that their sect is still weak after the war and they probably shouldn’t piss off the strongest sect remaining.

Jin Zixuan does a fancy shot, so Wei Wuxian blindfolds himself and shoots five arrows at once, partly to show off, but partly because he knows nobody can top that so nobody will be able to shoot at the Wen sect prisoners. Jin Guangyao, who apparently arranged this (presumably because his father likes a little bloodshed as an appetizer), pouts unattractively. I wonder why I ever liked him.

Up on the mountain, Wei Wuxian does a bunch of demonic cultivation with his flute to drive the demons into Jiang sect nets so they can win. Then he decides to chill out for a bit.

Lan Wangji shows up. He tells Wei Wuxian that he has learned new music that should help with the whole ‘full of evil energy’ thing. Wei Wuxian asks who Lan Wangji is to tell him what to do. Lan Wangji responds by asking ‘what do you see me as’, Wei Wuxian replies ‘I used to think of you as my soulmate in this life’, Lan Wangji says, ‘I still am’ and the sound you just heard is my heart exploding.

Unfortunately before they can kiss, they hear other people on the path. It’s Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli. Jin Zixuan makes a pitiful attempt to impress her while she is clearly very uncomfortable.

Even though Jin Zixuan isn’t doing anything worse than inserting his own foot into his mouth, Wei Wuxian jumps in to tell him to fuck off. They argue. Jin Zixuan’s mother turns up and hilariously roasts him for always upsetting Jiang Yanli. You start to like her until she says that Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli shouldn’t spend time together because then people will think they’re having an affair. Jiang Yanli reminds her that Wei Wuxian is her younger brother, but Madam Jin sticks to her obnoxious guns. Jin Zixuan tries to say something nice and actually runs away which is the first time he’s felt relatable in the whole show.

Jin Zixun turns up, hauling his enormous bad attitude with him, and gets pissy with Wei Wuxian for using demonic cultivation to lure the demons into their nets. He’s super rude about it. Jiang Yanli politely eviscerates Jin Zixun in response and it’s super satisfying.

Int, Koi Tower [Lanling]

They’re having a big party after the hunt. The Yunmeng Jiang did well and Jiang Cheng is happy for two seconds before he overhears some people saying that it’s only because of Wei Wuxian’s demonic cultivation and they don’t like that. Wei Wuxian has decided not to go to the banquet because these people suck.

Jin Guangyao, even though he’s now an errand boy for his power-hungry dick of a father, still has a big crush on Lan Xichen, and they have a few tender moments. Other people, like Madam Jin and Jin Zixun, are being absolute assholes to Jin Guangyao, and he’s wearing his best retail smile. I remember why I liked him. But uh oh! Jin Guangyao has made friends with and invited Su She, who you might remember from him betraying all the Gusu Lan who were hiding in the cave. Jin Guangyao doesn’t seem to know these two have history. Lan Xichen tells him not to worry about it but it’s awkward.

Ext, the city [Lanling]

Wei Wuxian is wandering around. He bumps into Wen Qing, who is there looking for Wen Ning.

Int, Koi Tower [Lanling]

Jin Zixun has decided he hasn’t been a big enough of a dick for the day, so he asks Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji to have a drink with him. Lan Xichen tells him that they aren’t allowed to drink alcohol because of their sect rules. Jin Zixun takes this as a personal insult, or at least pretends to because it gives him an excuse to act like a jerk.

Jin Guangyao asks what’s going on and who upset his cousin, then looks at Lan Xichen like they’re a biracial couple at a barbecue and he’s trying to apologize telepathically for what his racist uncle just said.

After a few moments of ‘no really, I just don’t drink alcohol’ Lan Xichen decides this fool ain’t worth it and takes a drink. Jin Guangyao looks like he wants to crawl into a hole and die. ‘U ok babe?’ his eyes say. ‘No I want to go home, this barbecue sucks’ Lan Xichen’s eyes reply. Jin Zixun then offers a cup to Lan Wangji, who stares into the middle distance and forcefully projects the information that he will literally die before accepting a drink from this asshole.

Wei Wuxian interrupts, snatches the cup, and says ‘I’ll drink for him. That’s okay, right?’ even though there’s absolutely no reason it would be since they’re not actually married. He drinks anyway. Then he asks Jin Zixun where Wen Ning is. Turns out Jin Zixun and his lackeys kidnapped Wen Ning and his whole village.

Jin Zixun pretends he doesn’t remember. Wei Wuxian threatens him a lot. It’s super hot if terribly inadvisable. Jiang Cheng is clearly upset that he’s out of line. Lan Wangji is clearly worried that he’s losing his marbles. Jin Guangshan tries to bully Wei Wuxian and fails on every level. After a few minutes, Jin Zixun caves and tells him that Wen Ning and the others are at Qiongqi Way. Wei Wuxian says ‘why couldn’t you just tell me that?’ and leaves. Jin Guangshan flips over the table. It’s awesome.

Everyone begins talking shit about Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng is more upset. Lan Wangji says ‘I mean, he wasn’t wrong’ and Jin Guangyao replies with the ‘he’s right but you shouldn’t say it’ meme. Lan Xichen reflects on the fact that Wei Wuxian’s ‘temperament has changed a lot’ as if this is something mystical and strange instead of the inevitable result of severe, untreated PTSD and the fact that he’s discovered massive systemic injustice.

Lan Wangji asks Lan Xichen if it’s okay if he kidnaps Wei Wuxian and brings him back to Cloud Recesses. Lan Xichen tells him to go for it.

Ext, Qiongqi Way [Lanling]

All the Wen civilians have been forced into a labor camp. It’s really awful.

Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing arrive to find out they’re too late. Wen Ning has been killed. (Technically they say later he had ‘one breath left’ but that’s only because Chinese censorship doesn’t allow necromancy to be portrayed on TV. This explanation doesn’t actually make sense, and by and large fandom ignores it. In the book, he’s all dead, and that’s much simpler.)

Wei Wuxian has a complete breakdown and brings Wen Ning back as a fierce corpse (which is similar to a zombie but not exactly the same for xianxia reasons). Wen Ning murders all the guards at the prison (with a little help from Wei Wuxian) and then collapses. Wei Wuxian realizes they are Totally Fucked Now, lets everyone out of prison, and gets out of dodge.

Except Lan Wangji has followed him and is standing in the rain in his way. They have a really haunting exchange where Wei Wuxian asks Lan Wangji to confront the aforementioned systemic injustice, and Lan Wangji tells him if he continues on this path, it’ll be considered a rebellion and he’ll be hunted down and killed. Wei Wuxian says, basically, ‘If I’m so wrong, then you kill me. If it’s you, I’ll accept it.’ Lan Wangji stands aside to let them go. I cry for seventeen hours.

Ext, the Burial Mounds [Yiling]

Wei Wuxian has brought the refugees here. They ask if it’s really possible to live in such a place. He says he lived there for three months.

Int, Koi Tower [Lanling]

You know, I don’t even remember if we see this, but I assume everyone there is super upset about everything.

ETA: Thanks to the people who reminded me! Everyone’s trashing Wei Wuxian. Mianmian (you may remember her from Turtle Cave, where Wei Wuxian saved her from being burned by Jiaojiao) sticks up for him, saying he doesn’t kill indiscriminately. Everyone pats her on the head and mansplains things to her, so she gives them all a big middle finger and leaves the Jin sect over it. Good for her.

Int, the Burial Mounds [Yiling]

Jiang Cheng shows up to ask Wei Wuxian what the fuck he thinks he’s doing. Wei Wuxian, who is living in a cave and spent their entire refugee budget on candles, has Wen Ning’s unconscious body covered in talismans. He says he’s trying to restore Wen Ning’s consciousness. Jiang Cheng is pretty horrified and basically accuses Wei Wuxian of desecrating a corpse, and threatens to kill Wen Ning (more/again). Wei Wuxian brushes him off. Jiang Cheng says, heartwrenchingly, ‘If you keep protecting them, I can’t protect you’. Wei Wuxian replies, more heartwrenchingly, ‘Then abandon me.’ I cry for another seventeen hours.

ENTER A RAY OF SUNSHINE

There’s a little boy here about two or three years old named Wen Yuan. He’s adorable and likes to cling to people’s legs.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t like any of this so he bounces. Wen Qing walks him to the end of the trail and then gives him back the comb he gave her (she did pick it up!) earlier. He looks like she kicked him in the balls but doesn’t change his mind.

Ext, somewhere [Yiling]

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian stage a massive public fight. There’s some light stabbing. Jiang Cheng publicly disavows Wei Wuxian and says he’s no longer part of the Yunmeng Jiang. (You don’t actually know it’s staged at the time this happens but you find out pretty soon so whatever.)

Ext, Koi Tower [Lanling]

Jin Zixuan has now realized that Jiang Yanli is bae. He builds her a lotus pond and looks super awkward about it. It’s sweet. He’s doing much better now that he realizes he just shouldn’t talk.

Ext, the Burial Mounds [Yiling]

Wei Wuxian is a massive ball of PTSD and angst. It sucks. Wen Qing tries to persuade him to leave them there and go home, but he refuses.

Ext, some city [Yiling]

Lan Wangji is in Yiling because he was in the neighborhood on completely unrelated business. No he’s not there to see Wei Wuxian. Stop asking him questions. Suddenly a small child is clinging to his leg and crying. He is discomfited.

Meanwhile Wei Wuxian is buying refugee supplies and realizes Wen Yuan has wandered off. He finds him clinging to Lan Wangji’s leg and insists on buying him lunch. Wen Yuan asks Wei Wuxian to buy him a toy and when Wei Wuxian won’t, Lan Wangji buys him like 15 toys. It’s super adorable.

They have lunch together. Wen Yuan sits in Lan Wangji’s lap. The reason Lan Wangji definitely was not in the area was to tell Wei Wuxian that his sister is getting married to Jin Zixuan. Lunch is interrupted when Wei Wuxian’s talisman signals that Wen Ning is causing trouble back at the Burial Mounds. Lan Wangji has to pay for lunch.

Ext, the Burial Mounds [Yiling]

Wen Ning is on a rampage. This happens with fierce corpses. Wei Wuxian starts trying to use his magic to calm him down. With Lan Wangji’s help, he’s able to restore his consciousness. Everyone’s really happy.

Wei Wuxian asks Lan Wangji to stay for dinner but he says he has to go. They exchange the world’s most longing look. I resist the urge to climb into my screen, physically manifest in ancient China, and tie Lan Wangji to a tree so he can’t leave.

Wen Yuan asks if he’ll ever come back. Wei Wuxian says probably not. I rehydrate so I can cry more.

Back at the Burial Mounds, the villagers have come together to throw Wei Wuxian a thank you party. It’s super sweet.

Ext, the city [Yiling]

Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli come to show Wei Wuxian her wedding outfit. She’s brought him soup. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian roast each other a little bit, just like old times. However Jiang Cheng is also a bit of a dick to Wen Ning, because he’s still skeeved out by what Wei Wuxian did, and won’t let him sit with them. Jiang Yanli gives him a bowl of soup anyway. He can’t eat it, so he carries it back to the Burial Mounds and gives it to Wen Yuan.

Ext, the Burial Mounds [Yiling]

Wei Wuxian has planted lotus seeds. He’s still having mood swings and other PTSD symptoms but overall is improving somewhat. He finds out at some point that Jiang Yanli is pregnant and gets really excited about it.

Int, Koi Tower [Lanling]

Jiang Yanli has given birth to a boy they have named Jin Ling. They’re planning his one-month ceremony. She wants to invite Wei Wuxian. The Jin sect is skeptical. Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji back her up, saying that Wei Wuxian hasn’t caused any trouble since going into exile, and this is a good opportunity to try to re-introduce him into polite society. Jin Guangshan agrees. He’s also a dick to Jin Guangyao, who asks to hold the baby, and Jin Guangshan won’t let him. Jin Zixuan points out to his father that Jin Guangyao has been loyal and helpful since joining the sect, and maybe his father shouldn’t be such a jerk. Jin Guangshan reminds him that Jin Guangyao is the son of a whore and says someone with his background can never be in a position of power in their sect.

Ext, the Burial Mounds [Yiling]

Wei Wuxian receives a letter from Lan Wangji stating he’s invited to the one-month ceremony and is really excited.

Int, my apartment [America]

I’m gonna be real honest with you guys. I skimmed through the next couple episodes while sobbing on my phone and unlike most of the show, have only watched them once. It’s very possible that I’m going to get stuff slightly incorrect or in the wrong order. I’ll do my best but holy crap, I absolutely never want to watch these episodes again. This accounts for any mistakes I’ve made in fic, too, LOL.

Ext, Qiongqi Way [Lanling]

Wei Wuxian is on his way to Koi Tower with Wen Ning. Jin Zixun shows up and accuses Wei Wuxian of having cursed him with a curse called Hundred Holes. Wei Wuxian hilariously says ‘I don’t even know who you are’ because his memory is terrible and also Jin Zixun sucks. Jin Zixun has brought like a hundred guys with them and they start shooting arrows. Wen Ning starts to kick their asses.

Jin Zixuan shows up and tries to de-escalate the situation. He promised Jiang Yanli that Wei Wuxian would be able to visit Jin Ling.

Out of fucking nowhere, Wen Ning murders the shit out of Jin Zixuan. I screamed. Wei Wuxian clearly has no idea what the fuck just happened. Then Wen Ning murders Jin Zixun which is less of a problem. Once all the Jin guys are dead, Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning run the hell away and head back to Yiling.

Int, Koi Tower [Lanling]

Everyone wants to know what the fuck just happened. They conclude that Wei Wuxian lost control of Wen Ning and his violent nature (now that he’s a fierce corpse) caused him to murder a bunch of people. They demand that Wen Ning and Wen Qing surrender themselves to Koi Tower.

Int, the Burial Mounds [Yiling]

Wei Wuxian has an absolute meltdown, for which we can’t blame him. He, too, has come to the conclusion that he lost control of Wen Ning and that’s why a ton of people are dead.

Wen Qing sticks a bunch of needles in him and tells him that they’re going to surrender themselves to Koi Tower. He hates everything about this but can’t stop them because of the needles. She says they’ll release him in three days, tells him ‘I’m sorry, and thank you’. I can’t see the screen through my tears.

Ext, Koi Tower [Lanling]

The Wen remnants surrender themselves. Jiang Cheng tells Jin Guangshan ‘whoever Wei Wuxian broke, I’ll pay for it, okay?’ but we’re a little beyond that now.

Int, the Burial Mounds [Yiling]

Wei Wuxian breaks out of his needle-induced coma and hurries to Koi Tower. I clutch my stuffed animal and think, naively, that he’ll make it in time.

Ext, Koi Tower [Lanling]

The bodies of the Wen remnants are on display. Wei Wuxian has another meltdown. He tries to find Jiang Yanli, sees her in widow’s white, and runs away.

Ext, Nightless City [Qishan]

For some reason everyone’s decided to go to Qishan to toss Wen Qing and Wen Ning’s ashes in a volcano, I guess. Mostly they’re just throwing a party for themselves because they killed a bunch of farmers. I hate them.

Wei Wuxian shows up and tells them they all suck. Some rando shoots Wei Wuxian with an arrow. He laughs at the dude, pulls it out, and throws it back, killing him. It’s hot. Lan Wangji tries to talk him down but can’t. They get in a fight. Wei Wuxian raises an absolute fuckton of resentful energy and angry spirits and starts trying to kill everyone there, which honestly seems fair to me at this point. For only the second time, he takes out the amulet made of yin iron that he used during the battle with Wen Ruohan.

Except something weird is going on. There’s a second flute playing and it’s unclear who’s playing it. I’m screaming at my monitor.

Jiang Yanli, who is there because this show doesn’t know what to do with women besides fridge them, gets attacked by a fierce corpse. Wei Wuxian tries to control it but can’t. He starts freaking out again. He and Jiang Cheng manage to save Jiang Yanli from the fierce corpse but Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what’s going on and he’s clearly about to break down completely. Jiang Yanli is still really sweet and gentle with him, even though (she thinks) he kind of killed her husband. Then some other rando tries to kill Wei Wuxian and ends up stabbing Jiang Yanli instead. She dies.

Wei Wuxian – I hate to overuse the term ‘freaks the fuck out’ but when the shoe fits – freaks the fuck out. He breaks the amulet into fragments and then throws himself off a cliff.

Lan Wangji catches him before he can fall, even though he’s been wounded in the battle. Wei Wuxian stares at him for a moment before he tells Lan Wangji to let him go. Lan Wangji doesn’t let him go. Jiang Cheng comes over and for a brief second Wei Wuxian sort of looks hopeful, but then Jiang Cheng tells him to go to hell and stabs downward with his sword. It’s not going to hit him – Jiang Cheng’s eyes aren’t even open – but it hits the rock and causes part of it to crumble. Wei Wuxian shakes Lan Wangji’s hand off and falls, smiling with relief, because this show absolutely wants to fucking kill me.

Yes, our protagonist is dead. Don’t worry, he gets better.

~end of part 4~

#liveblog #the untamed

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izzielizzie · 3 years

Text

Footnotes in the Story of Your Life

Nancy Drew never wanted to move from everything she knew in New York to an unwelcoming town in Maine, and she secretly refuses to enjoy her upcoming final year of high school, but that might not even happen when she and four Horseshoe Bay natives - Bess Marvin the socialite, Ace the stoic son of a single mother, George Fan the town foster child/screw up, and Ned Nickerson HBPD’s favorite ex-con - are accused of attempted murder. Nancy’s startled - when she said she wanted something interesting to happen she didn’t mean this - but soon she starts to notice that not everything is as it seems here (AU).

Title from “Tolerate It” by Taylor Swift

Nancy’s mother finds her sitting on her bed on the first day of summer with a framed photograph in her hands. Kate Drew softens at the sight of her daughter, her usually perfect posture long forgotten as she wilts into the bed.

“Nance,” she says quietly, and Nancy instantly looks up, her face crumpling. Kate crosses the bare room to sit next to her only daughter, wrapping a secure arm around her shoulder. “Moving must be hard, huh?” For the past month, the family of three had been packing up their New York home in River Heights, loading things into trucks as their friends came by with endless casseroles and ceramic dishes they didn’t know what to do with. Nancy, as social as her mother before her, had drawn into herself more and more as she made her goodbyes.

“Liven up Nance,” Carson, Kate’s husband and Nancy’s father had said not too long ago as they ate the tuna casserole Helen Coring - Nancy’s best friend - had brought earlier that day as they put the contents of Nancy’s room into a U Haul truck. “We’re moving to River Heights Drive. Not that much of a change, right?”

Nancy had spent the rest of the night glaring at her father, resenting his audacity, and Kate had taken over with the reassurances.

“Yeah. I just hate the idea that I’m missing senior year.”

“Well, you’re not missing it per say. You’re still going to school here.”

Nancy looks at the picture of her, Helen, and another friend named Burt at the junior prom, their arms around each other. Nancy sighs. She considers launching into a tirade about how New York and Maine are very different places and no she is missing school, the important parts at least, but she knows that this move is hard on her mother too, so she refrains. “I guess so,” she says, reluctantly putting the picture on the stand she had placed next to her bed.

Kate kisses the top of Nancy’s head. “Good. Now why don’t you explore and I’ll see what casserole I can heat up.”

“Ugh Mom,” Nancy says, already grinning as she pulls her blue raincoat from one of the boxes on the floor in front of her.

Nancy’s wanderings lead her to a small seafood restaurant with a great view of the Atlantic. Nancy’s not used to being this close to large bodies of water, and it’s making her a little nauseous. Her father, a native of Boston, assures her that she’ll get over the salt air smell, but Nancy’s not so sure.

She looks up at the claw shaped sign, creaking eerily on its pole. The Bayside Claw Nancy reads. What a fitting name. And a fitting sign. Nancy’s about to turn and keep walking, since she’s not a big seafood person, but she sees a handful of well dressed men enter the restaurant. Nancy’s spent enough time in New York City to know when a well dressed person is just fashion conscious, or when they’re rich and up to something. These men are definitely the latter. Nancy pauses for a few moments to make sure that the men have had the time to settle, since she locked eyes with a young man with sandy blond hair and the beginnings of a goatee, and she doesn’t want him to think she’s following him.

Nancy is an unnecessarily paranoid person.

She pushes through the doors of the restaurant and is nearly mowed over by a person the moment she steps into the dining area. “Whoah, I’m sorry,” she says, stepping back in time to see a woman with long black hair and an oversized cardigan stagger backwards, clearly discombobulated by well… everything.

“Ugh, Victoria,” A girl about Nancy’s age in a green uniform grumbles. She catches sight of Nancy. “Sorry about that ma’am,” the waitress says, reaching down to haul the woman (presumably Victoria) off the ground. The waitress pushes Victoria out of the door that’s still held open by Nancy. “Go be drunk somewhere else!” The waitress - whose name tag reads George - turns to Nancy. “Can I help you?”

Nancy freezes, not quite sure why to say she’s here now that she’s been spotted by this rather vocal waitress when she’s saved by another waitress, this time in yellow.

“George, Mr. Hudson wants us to give his wife food,” the waitress says in a posh British accent. She’s holding a wobbly plate of fish and salad in one hand.

George turns from Nancy to the new waitress, annoyance crossing her face. “Well what do you want me to do? Roll it onto a cart for her? Go bring it outside!”

“Mr. Hudson left his wife outside?” Nancy asks, without thinking.

“Yeah, that fellow over there,” the waitress in yellow points to the sandy haired man Nancy had tailed into here.

“And that fellow is both incredibly rich and able to give us a boost and my foster dad so maybe you should shut up and give Tiffany her food,” George snaps. Both Bess and Nancy flush.

“Sorry,” Bess mumbles, stepping away and around Nancy to slip through the front door. Nancy’s a little jostled when Bess passes her, and she spins a little, turning towards the kitchen. She catches sight of a young man in a colorful Hawaiian shirt ringing the bell to signify an order. They lock eyes - ice blue on sky - and Nancy feels a wave of déjà vu pass over her, but she shakes it off. She turns back to George, who’s still looking at her, waiting for Nancy to say something.

Finally, Nancy makes up her mind. If she’s going to be stuck in this tiny town she might as well do something to occupy her time. “Are you hiring?”

George looks her over. “Are you new here?”

Oh. So it’s that kind of tiny town. “Yes, my family just moved here.”

George nods. “Right. Well, we could always use a new waitress. We had one leave for college and Bess isn’t the brightest so…” George trails off, cocking her head. “Do you hear that?”

Both Nancy and George tilt their heads towards the front door of the restaurant, where they can hear muffled shouting. Both girls look at each other for a moment before Nancy spins and pushes the door open. George is hot on her heels, and after a few moments, a third pair of feet joins them. Nancy turns to see shaggy blond hair under a black cap and knows that it’s the boy from behind the counter.

Nancy stops suddenly when she sees Bess standing over a body, shock on her face. “Omph,” Nancy says as both George and the other guy come barreling into her. She stumbles, and George catches her around the waist. Nancy opens her mouth to ask the very obvious question hanging in the air-

“Bess? What happened?” a decidedly male voice asks, taking the words straight from Nancy’s mouth. She looks up to see a tall boy with cocoa skin exiting a blue truck parked a foot behind Bess, the body, and the sleek car looming over the person Nancy can only assume is Mrs. Hudson.

A strangled cry escapes George, and she rushes forward, dropping to her knees next to the woman. “Help her!” George says, looking up at the four of them as she lifts Mrs. Hudson’s head to rest on her knees. She cradles it in her hands like an injured bird.

“What happened?” the Hawaiian shirt boy repeats. Bess is sobbing now.

“I turned to go back to the restaurant and all of a sudden she cried out and fell! I don’t know!”

Nancy, still not quite sure what in the world is happening, crouches next to George and Mrs. Hudson. She lifts one of Mrs. Hudson’s hands, feeling her wrist for a pulse.

“She’s not dead,” she says as sirens come wailing towards them.

Fifteen minutes later, Nancy, Bess, George, and the two boys are sitting in the hospital waiting room with Mr. Hudson, George leaning against Mr. Hudson’s shoulder.

“The Hudsons have been her foster parents for the longest out of any of her homes,” Bess says, leaning over to whisper in Nancy’s ear. Nancy smiles at her. “I remember what it’s like being new. I only moved in with my aunt here in Horseshoe Bay last month. I used to live in London. I’m Bess by the way.”

“Nancy,” Nancy says.

“Welcome. Where did you live before?”

“New York.”

“City?”

“State.”

“Oh that’s nice. I love the city, did you go often?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Nancy says as the waiting room doors swing open. She’s startled to see a man in a uniform striding towards their little group. He’s probably in his thirty or forties, and he’s got a no nonsense look on his face.

“Are you the people found at the scene of the crime?” he asks in lieu of greeting.

“Woah, woah, crime?” Mr. Hudson asks, standing up, startling George, who had been dozing on his shoulder.

The officer turns to Mr. Hudson solemnly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “There was poison found in your wife’s system, Mr. Hudson, which means that someone had attempted to kill her.”

Everyone turns to Bess, except Mr. Hudson and the officers.

Mr. Hudson stares at the officer for a moment before sinking into his seat, a look of genuine fear on his face. “Who would want to kill Tif?”

“Not me I swear!” Bess cries, latching on to Nancy’s arm. Nancy gently pries her fingers off her arm.

The officer shakes his head, ignoring the distraught waitress. “I’m not sure sir, but it’s our job to figure it out. Why is why I need to speak to these five.”

They all look at Mr. Hudson: Nancy, George, Bess, and the two boys whose names Nancy still doesn’t know. But Mr. Hudson’s face is ashen, like he’s going into shock. The officer motions at the young people. “Come along.”

The five of them look at each other uncertainly before standing and following the officer into the hall. Nancy catches sight of his badge: Chief E. O. McGinnis.

Now, Nancy, being the daughter of a lawyer, should know her rights, and the right to remain silent is the biggest one, especially since she’s a minor, but she’s too confused and terrified to think straight.

She’s being investigated for attempted murder. Attempted murder. God her mother’s going to kill her.

The unlikely five line up against the wall. Chief McGinnis paces in front of them. “Alright. I’m looking at an ex-con,” he pauses in front of the guy from the truck. “The town screw up,” (this time he’s in front of George). “A city girl,” he’s in front of Bess now, who looks rather guilty in Nancy’s opinion. He moves to the fancy shirt guy standing next to Nancy. “An HBPD legacy and Nancy Drew.”

Except, that’s not what he says.

He pauses in front of Nancy, and tilts his head at her. “Who are you again?”

Nancy stares at him as the weird feeling of déjà vu hits her again. No. That’s not right. He knows who she is.

But she doesn’t know who he is.

Nancy feels her hands start to shake. Everything here is wrong. She should be sitting at the police station. She should know what’s happening. But she doesn’t because she’s being accused of attempted murder.

But it shouldn’t be attempted. Nancy slides down the wall, her hands pulling at her skin where she can feel the ghost of a locket.

My mother’s gonna kill me she thinks. But no, her mom’s dead. And Ryan isn’t George’s foster dad. He’s her dad.

This isn’t right.

This isn’t ri-

“Okay just give her space.”

When Nancy comes to, she’s looking up into the face of the boy who had been working at the Bayside Claw. Nancy’s laying on the ground, her head against the cold tile. The boy gently slips an arm under her shoulders, helping her to sit up.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks.

Nancy doesn’t know the answer to that. He can tell, so he tries a different question. “What’s your name?”

“Nancy Drew,” she croaks. He smiles.

“Hi Nancy Drew. My name is Ace Hardy.”

“Hi,” Nancy mumbles back.

“And that’s Nick,” Ace says, pointing to the boy from the truck who’s hovering on the outskirts of the circle of people around her. “I hear you’ve met the girls.”

Nancy nods and Ace gently slips his other arm under her knees, lifting her up in his arms like she weighs nothing. He walks her towards the waiting room, talking as he goes. “That, Nancy, was a panic attack. Have those often?”

Nancy leans her pounding head against his muscular shoulder. “No.”

“Well, first time for everything. Got anyone we can call?”

“My dad,” she mumbles. Ace nods to Bess, who rushes forward with her phone out. Nancy recites her father’s number, and Bess puts it to her ear.

“Hello? Hi, yes, this is Bess Marvin. I’m calling about your daughter. She’s in the hospital, she had a panic attack.” Bess is quiet for a moment. “Nancy Drew, yes.” After a moment, Bess rattles off directions and hangs up.

Ace puts Nancy down on a chair next to Mr. Hudson. Nancy looks at him sideways. She’s about to say something to him when suddenly - as if her brain has been reset or something - she forgets what she was going to say.

“Want some water Nancy?” Ace asks. Nancy smiles at the unfamiliar boy.

“Yes, please,” she says. He stands and heads to the water cooler, Bess taking his spot. “What did the officer mean by Ace is a legacy?”

“Oh, that,” Bess says sadly. “Ace’s father was a Captain on the police force. He was in a chase once when Ace was a child. His car got hit, and he didn’t make it.”

“That’s so sad,” Nancy says.

“I know,” Bess agrees. “His mother is all he has. She’s a librarian, but she doesn’t make a lot of money. They just get by with her salary and the pension from the state. That’s why Ace turned down MIT. To work at The Claw.”

“That must be so hard,” Nancy says. She can’t imagine giving up her dream of going to Columbia.

“It is,” Bess agrees as the doors to the waiting room are pushed open. Nancy sees her father and mother being trailed by an annoyed McGinnis.

“You can’t just take a suspect home! She has to be fingerprinted! She has to give her statement!”

Carson turns on McGinnis. “Excuse me, but my daughter is a minor and she’s had a panic attack.”

“We’re taking her,” Kate adds. She spots Nancy and rushes to her, crouching to put her hands on either side of her daughter’s face. “Nancy, baby, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Okay, we’re taking you home, don’t worry, Mom’s here.”

It’s a simple statement, and normally Nancy would complain that it makes her sound like a child, but it relaxes her nonetheless. She slumps into her mom, letting the exhaustion and confusion sink over her.

Kate runs her fingers through her red hair as Carson argues with McGinnis, who finally relents.

“Fine, fine, you all can go if Drew is going. But I expect you back at the station at eight am sharp.”

Nancy is pulled to her feet by her mother, and before she moves, she puts a hand on Mr. Hudson’s shoulder. “Your wife will get better sir,” she says. Mr. Hudson puts his hand over hers.

“Thanks.”

Nancy waves goodbye to everyone else before following her parents. As she falls asleep in the back seat of her dad’s car, all she can think is that something about this entire night is off.

#cw nancy drew fanfiction #nancy drew #ace #bess marvin #george fan #nick nickerson #au #queued

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

off the grid | five

summary: it was as simple as swapping places with a stranger from across the world to get away from everything back home. that is - until you meet Jimin. things become more complicated as he unfolds a new chapter in your life that you were initially trying to avoid.

pairing: reader x pjm

genre: post-college au, christmas/holiday au | angst, fluff, smut (to come)

words: 2.8k

chapter warnings: cussing, alcohol consumption and intoxication, possible inaccurate depiction of transportation, events and whereabouts in South Korea since i only did my research thru the internet, sweet jiminie, fluff, lots of overthinking & slight angst

> series masterlist <

"Mm, it sounds like you're having fun which is the most important thing. It's nice to see all the places you've been visiting on your stories." Yoongi replied on the other end as he fixed his position in bed.

"Yeah, I'm really enjoying my time here."

"I can tell." He chuckled. "So, is that guy really Yana's brother?"

"Who said that?"

"Namjoon. He's been hanging out with Yana alot too."

"Surprise, surprise." You said sarcastically as you laughed. Namjoon can be a huge flirt, but nonetheless, he was a great and loyal guy.

"Surprise, surprise to both of you." Yoongi added. "He says Yana is pretty happy about her brother spending time with you though."

"I don't know, Yoongs."

"What is it?"

"I'm just not trying to get attached. I don't live here, you know?"

"Then why do you keep hanging out with him? I'd say you already are."

"Because he's fun, and caring, and super sweet. Just so wholesome and pure." You gushed, explaining all the things right about Jimin. The list can go on. "It's hard to be away from someone who has that kind of energy. His friends are the sweetest things, too. Nothing but good company."

"Which is great, honestly. You deserve someone who can do right by you. But just remember to always look out for yourself, okay?" Not gonna lie, Yoongi was pretty worried for both you and Joon. He knew you both had pasts of sorrow, and the last thing be wanted was for you both to be sad or upset. Don't get him wrong, he's happy you both have been stepping out of your comfort zone and meeting new people like this. He just didn't want you both to get too attached because what if you do go living your life the way it was before Jimin came in? Then, what? Instead of coming back feeling refreshed, would you be even more miserable counting your what if's? "Try not to flood your head with all that mess and just have fun while you're still there. Time is moving pretty quickly."

"Yeah, I know." You sighed. Time was moving pretty quickly. You'd be packing up to head back to LA before you know it.

"What are you doing today?"

"It's Jimin's friend's birthday thing. They're doing dinner and karaoke."

"Sounds dope. Have fun, tell me about it later when you're free. I'll let you finish getting ready."

"I will." You sighed.

"Aye, what did I say?" He whined. "Have fun, don't be sad. You don't need to let it consume you."

"Right." You smiled and quickly shook your head to brush off the lingering thoughts. "Alright, I'll talk to you later. Love you, dude."

"Love you too!" He threw up the peace sign before ending the facetime call. You took one last look in the mirror before finalizing your outfit and look. You didn't wanna do too much in this weather, but at the same time, you still wanted to look good. As you were about to give yourself a little spritz of perfume, a knock came at the door. You hurriedly sprayed a good amount into the air and ran through the perfume cloud before heading downstairs. How else would you put on perfume?

"Hey." You smiled at Jimin as you swung your bag over your shoulder. "Ready?" You furrowed your eyebrows as he hadn't replied. Did you look that bad? Why wasn't ol' boy saying anything?!

"Yeah.." He slowly responded to your question. "You look really good."

"You're not too bad yourself, Park." He sure as hell looked fine in those distressed jeans.

"Mmm, thanks.” He blushed a bit, catching you looking at his thighs poking out from the holes in his jeans. “Uh, the karaoke restaurant thing er, whatever isn't too far, but did you need anything on the way? Tae is driving so I can make him take you." You laughed and shook your head.

"Are a ton of people coming out tonight?"

"Not really. Jin doesn't have friends." You laughed.

"He has you guys, silly."

"Moreso acquaintances that deal with him." You playfully hit him.

"That's not nice!"

"Okay, okay. I'm kidding." He pouted. "God, I wish you cared about me like you do about Jin-hyung."

"That's not even a fair statement being that I've spent most of my time with you."

"Yeah, you're right. I just wanted to hear it."

"You're a piece of work." He winked.

"Hey, I told you that color would look nice on you." He gently ran his fingers down the fabric of your coat.

"It's warm." You snuggled into the coat. "Definitely not making the same mistake I did when we went skating."

"Why, you don't like wearing my jackets?" He chuckled. Boy, was he wrong cause you absolutely did. And you absolutely loved how his scent lingered on your clothes.

"It's not that, I just worry cause you're left in the cold."

"Y/N, I told you, I'm used to this. I'd rather you be okay than me." At this point, you were climbing into the car, with Taehyung in the driver's seat, Jungkook in the passenger's seat and Hoseok near the window. You squished into the middle seat, Jimin and Hoseok's thighs both touching yours. They all yelled their greetings to you as Taehyung began to drive off to the karaoke restaurant. They blasted songs in the car, resulting in all of you dancing and singing along loudly as a warm up for what's to come.

When you had arrived, there were a few unfamiliar faces but the group overall wasn't huge. Jin had reserved a whole room at the back of the restaurant for everyone to eat, drink and sing their hearts out. Jimin had introduced you to Jin's other friends, his hand gently pressed against the small of your back.

"Okay," Jin stood as he rose a shot glass full of soju. "I just wanna say that even though I hate you guys most of the time-" Lots of boo's came from their friend group, making Jin laugh. "I'm still super grateful that we can all be here together to celebrate the most important day in history - my birthday. Cheers!"

"Happy birthday, you asshole!" Jungkook yelled as you and the rest of the group took the soju to the neck. The food came out slowly, but by the time the rest of the orders had arrive, one shot turned into two, then into three, then into four. So on and so forth. You hadn't drank in awhile, being that the last time you got pretty drunk was at Yoongi and Namjoon's apartment and all you had was a whole bottle of wine to yourself. You remember that day clearly; Romeo had promised he'd hang out and spend another night with you, but ended up ignoring you the entire day. You cried so much, feeling so dumb for having let him in yet once again. He was shady like that, and he only came around to apologize and spill a lame ass story when he wanted something from you. Something he knew you'd give even though he wasn't there for you 100%.

But that's in the past and you were leaving it where it belonged. It was a little embarrassing how tipsy you felt right now, but who gave a fuck? You were enjoying yourself with your new friends annnd you had a fine man right next to you. You said what you said, you thought what you thought. No takebacks. This liquid courage has you battling with yourself on whether or not you should try flirting and being a little more touchy with Jimin. Should you give him that signal, or nah?

Time was of the essence.

While the group was singing Tearin' Up My Heart by Nsync together, which was your fucking jam, you and Jin sung your hearts out the most. You had used up so much of your energy that you made yourself comfortable on Jimin's lap after the song was over. At first, you were regretting the move simply because you couldn't see his face. Did he even want this? Is it too late to hop off and run the fuck home?

But you felt his arm snake around your hip and pull you closer to his body.

His other hand held the mic as he started to sing along to the next song that came up in the room while you let your body sink into his. He rested his cheek on your arm, while you watched everyone else get even more wasted. Taehyung wasn't even drunk but he was all over the place, singing and dancing around, doing karate chops in the air and showing off his elegant spins. Jungkook was pretty tipsy and would imitate Taehyung every now and then. Hoseok was next to you and Jimin, but completely minding his own business and laughing at everyone in the room while roasting them at the same time. You didn't want to get too comfortable on Jimin or else you'd feel bad, so you tried to wiggle off but he wouldn't let you.

"Where are you going?"

"Aren't you tired?"

"Of holding onto you? No."

"I feel bad."

"Don't. I like having you close to me." His puppy dog eyes looked up at you as he continued to rest his cheek against your arm and hug you tighter. If you weren't in a room full of people, you were pretty sure you'd kiss him right now. But, you kept yourself together and instead smile toothlessly and pinched his cheek. You both continued to sing along and join the group in the chaos, Tae even coming towards you two at one point to have you guys stand and dance with everyone.

The two hours had gone by quickly, with everyone's voices raspy as shit from all the yelling and singing. Jin's childhood friends had gone their separate ways, while you, Jimin, JK, Tae, Hoseok and Jin decided to walk around town. There were a bunch of flyers up for a fair that was going on in the next town, so everyone ended up having to squeeze in the car, with you being on Jimin's lap once again. You tried to duck and keep your body low just to make sure Taehyung wouldn't get in trouble for hauling more than the maximum amount of people in the car, with Jimin's hands comfortably resting on your thighs.

"Let's go on that ride!" Jin pointed at the boat that swung highly from side to side.

"It goes so high." Hoseok made a sour face. "I don't think I'll make it out alive."'

"Come on!"

"Is this a good idea?" Jungkook laughed. "We just ate and had drinks." Jin pointed at him and nodded. He had a point. You all were still definitely tipsy off the alcohol, besides Tae being the sober one. He wasn't going to go on the ride alone, though.

"You're right." Jin laughed. "That makes it even better." He began to run over, making the rest of you follow him.

"You're such a dummy." Jungkook and Jin continued to playfully fight and bicker on the way to the ride.

"Ah, I'm nervous!" Jimin groaned as your group headed to the entrance.

"Are you afraid of heights?"

"No, but I don't like that feeling you get." He rubbed his tummy to signal the butterfly feeling you get after big drops on rides.

"You'll be okay." You laughed. "It'll be over before you know it."

"Can I hold onto you?" He chuckled as he intertwined his fingers with yours. You simply nodded as you both followed Jungkook to the backseat, with Taehyung, Hoseok and Jin in the seat in front of you. The ride filled up quickly and started shortly after the last person boarded. Even with the slightest tilt, both Jimin and Hoseok were screaming, with Jimin damn near cutting off the circulation to your hands. His grip became tighter every time your side of the boat tilted upwards. He would close his eyes and dig his head into your shoulder every now and then, making you and Jungkook cry from the laughter, mixed with the wind hitting your face every time the boat swung. But with all good things, the ride comes to an end.

"See, that wasn't so bad." You lightly patted his chest.

"Agh, I hate it." He groaned as he grabbed his chest and continued to get himself together, making you laugh. Hoseok was pretty much checked out after that ride and was certain he wasn't getting on anything else that night. You all continued to walk through the fair, stopping to play games and win little stuffed animal prizes before riding on rides that were a little bit more lowkey. Once you've reached the end, you noticed there was a crowd gathered around, standing and looking out at the view.

"Jimin, let's go." You nodded towards the crowd. You held his hand and led the way, seeing the fireworks starting to pop off. You squeezed your way to get through the front as much as possible until you found the perfect spot, where no one was in front of your view and there was no one lingering around to potentially block it. "It's so pretty!" You looked ahead at the colorful fireworks. You leaned your body against Jimin's, signaling that you were comfortable with his presence behind you. You felt his arms snake around your neck, hugging you tightly. You rested your hands on his arms, and tilted your head sideways, making Jimin rest his cheek against your temple.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N." He says, softly near your ear.

"Jimin." You squeezed his arm.

"I mean it." His thumb caressed your shoulder. "I'm really happy to be spending time with you."

"I am, too." You kept your eyes on the fireworks. He gently pressed his lips against your temple and continued to hold you close.

"Sorry, I-I should have—" He stumbled on his words, a little shy about having placed that kiss on your temple without asking if you felt comfortable first.

"No, you're okay." You grabbed his hand and placed a kiss on top to reassure him. He placed another gentle kiss on the side of your head before holding onto you tightly as you watched the rest of the show.

After the fireworks were over, the speakers started to blast some pretty ubpeat songs, making Jimin grab your hand and twirl you around. He held your hand as you both began to dance around freely, you both showing off your random, but cute dance moves to each other. Sooner or later, the rest of the troop gathered around and danced along with the both of you. It got a little crazy and chaotic at some points, but nonetheless, it was such a perfect way to end the night. Once people started to disappear slowly, you all called it a night. Taehyung drove you home first and said his goodbyes, while Jungkook and Hoseok sleepily waved in their seats. Jin pulled you into the tightest hug before climbing back into the car and blowing you a kiss from the window, making Jimin roll his eyes.

"I'm so tired." You yawned and sleepily said as you climbed up the stairs to the loft.

"Did you have fun?"

"Of course I did. Thank you." You swung your arms around him for a tight hug. Pulling away, he kept his eyes on you. You figured, this was it. He was gonna lay one on you and that would be the end of you. But, he doesn't. Instead, he brushes the hair out of your face. He's having an internal battle of whether or not he should though, because after tonight, he really, really wanted to. But he also wanted to do right by you.

"No problem. I'll see you later, yeah? Sleep tight, Y/N." He caresses your cheek before slowly backing away with his hands retreating into his pockets.

"Goodnight, Jimin." You softly respond. Jimin is honestly cursing the fuck out of himself right now as he's slowly heading down the stairs. Why didn't he just do it? Why was he acting scared all of a sudden? Why—

"Fuck it." He says to himself as he races back up before you can completely shut the door. "Wait, Y/N!"

"Hm?" You say as you peek your head out from the door. Jimin rushes over and gently grabs your face, pressing his plump lips onto yours. His thumb caresses your cheek while you continue to kiss back, not wanting to break the kiss.

"That's better." He says, chuckling. You bite onto your bottom lip before tiptoeing to give him one last peck for the road.

The fireworks, the butterflies. You weren't expecting this to be a part of your trip, and now you just wanted it 24/7. He unleashed this new and exciting side of things that made you want to keep exploring, as long as he was there by your side. Nothing else really mattered at that moment.

Not LA, not Romeo, not anything back home.

youtube

Alexa, play: Forever x Chris Brown

#bts #bts fanfiction #jimin fanfiction #jimin #park jimin #pjm series #pjm x reader #jimin x reader #jimin fluff #off the grid #otg #writing

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officialwittek · 3 years

Text

pt. 5

*texts are fake, but these are mine*

word count: 1,966

I have to be dreaming right? There’s no way on god’s green earth that he knows. I can’t believe he heard our conversation. I want to die in a hole. I look at the time and it’s nearly 3:00am. so I can’t call my friends since they’re all asleep. I toss and turn for what feels like years before slowly drifting to sleep

*the next day*

The rest of the girls decided to join us for lunch as well, I quickly get dressed and knock on Carly’s door to let her know that I’m ready. She comes out almost immediately and we both head to the restaurant in my car. I can tell she knows something is wrong, but she doesn’t ask the entire ride. We spot our other friends in a corner booth in the back and make our way over. We make small talk and lay out our schedules for the day.

“So... Sage, what happened last night?” Natalie asks, a concerned look on her face, our friends look at her in confusion

“Todd got a call from Jeff at like three in the morning. Is everything ok?” she repeats, I make a face and that’s all they need to know

“Oh my god, he knows doesn’t he..” Erin asks, I nod and feel tears welling in my eyes

“Yea.. it fucking sucks man. He basically told me that he only sees me as a friend and that he’s not over his fucking ex-girlfriend who only used him.. And it’s not like we were dating but I was so.. so in love with him” I reply, letting the tears fall as Corinna rubbed my shoulders and my other friends grabbed my hands

“And now I’m afraid things are going to be awkward when we all hang out together. I never ever wanted that, I don’t want anyone to feel like they need to chose between us like children during their parents divorce” I cry, letting all my emotions out, I’ve never been more thankful that we chose a small, quiet restaurant where we’re the only people here

“No, come on. I’m sure if you explain the situation to everyone they would totally understand” Carly explained, the other girls nodding in agreement

“I can’t.. I can’t explain to them. I don’t know how to put it into words and I don’t want them to be mad at Jeff. He’s their friend too and I know how protective everyone can be at times” I rant, they all nod along, their eyebrows furrowed as they think of something else

“Well, to be honest none of us had anything to do today. Why don’t we go back to your apartment and have another girl’s day? Get your mind off things and we’ll get all the takeout and listen to sad music” Erin suggests, I nod and ask Nat to text Mariah

After lunch we head back to the apartment. I feel like 1:00 pm. is an appropriate time to have some vodka right? I mean it’s 5:00 somewhere. I grab the bottle of Titos from my cabinet and pour it into a cup with some sprite and a lime. I made some for the girls and they all took a glass. We browse through Netflix and choose some Disney movies to watch. We started with the Princess and the Frog.

Four movies later and my phone started buzzing. Matt and Zane were asking where we all were because they were bored and David was busy editing and doing other work. I decided to let them come because they were like one of the girls. They showed up with Mariah and more alcohol.

“So baby what happened?” Mariah asks, I told her I wanted to wait until I could tell her in person

I explained the situation to the three of them, Mariah was incredibly irritated at Jeff, Matt and Zane were also pretty upset as well. I also explained how I didn’t want to make things awkward for everyone in the group and they shouldn’t have to feel like they have to choose between the two of us.

We ordered food for everyone and made more drinks. Out of no where Heath came by with Jason and Toddy. I hoped and prayed Jeff wouldn’t show up, not only because I’m heartbroken but because of the embarrassment I would have to feel.

An hour later everyone was pretty drunk except for Jason, Carly, and Erin who decided to stay sober for everyone who will probably need a ride home later. We were all laughing and having a great time, David hauled ass over here when he heard Zane and I were drunk.

“Oh fuck I forgot Ilya is landing in like an hour, who wants to come with me to pick him up?” David asks, Natalie and I raise our hands while everyone decides to stay back and just wait for us

The car ride over was us loudly singing along to David’s music. I brought some alcohol with me since I needed to escape and I know Ilya wants to turn the fuck up.

“Daddy Ilya” I yell, trying to catch his attention, David and Natalie groan from behind me at the horrible nickname

Ilya quickly runs to the Tesla and hops into the passenger seat. We drove back to my apartment while David filmed Ilya in the front drinking the rest of my vodka. Natalie grabs my arm and points the familiar truck in the garage...

... Who the fuck invited Jeff...

“What’s wrong princess peach?” Ilya asks, noticing that I was still in the Tesla

Natalie pulled the two guys away and explained as best as she could and as fast as she could. David and Ilya nodded their heads and walked over to me. I had shaken off my rush of anxiety while they were talking. To be honest, I don’t know if I’m upset with him for rejecting me or if I’m upset that he shows up to my apartment and will either pretend I don’t exist or pretend like nothing happened.

“Fuck it. Ilya, it’s your job to make me drunk as hell. Gimme” I said, taking the bottle from him and chugging the rest and using some leftover Red Bull

I unlock the door and step inside. Todd, Jeff, and Zane are in the living room talking... well Zane isn’t really talking and to be fair I don’t really know if he’s in this realm right now. The girls and Matt are all standing in the kitchen, giving Jeff side glares and talking in hushed voices. I close the door loudly to get everyone’s attention. They all turn to me and burst into smiles when the notice Ilya. They all greet him and I walk over to the side, grabbing a cup and making myself another drink.

“Shots for the boy” Todd yells, we all gather in the kitchen and I make sure to stand as far away from Jeff as possible, 90% out of embarrassment and 10% out of annoyance and anxiety

The ones who were drinking take shots and we all start catching up with Ilya. He’s telling us stories about work, and things he’s done with Deema. After a few minutes of catching up, the boys went to the parking lot to film some bits in David’s car. The girls gave me THE look and we went to my room and locked the door. Suzy listened while also keeping an ear out for them so there isn’t a repeat of the other night.

“I love Jeff, he’s one of my good friends.. but what the fuck was his thought process before coming here?” Carly asked, annoyed that not even 24 hours after he rejects me he shows up to my place

“Guys, it’s ok. I know this was supposed to be girls night but it turned into a hangout with everyone. And I’ll get over this eventually, I’ll be fine” I say, the room goes silent, even Suzy knows I’m definitely bullshitting

“I know you’re trying to make yourself feel better and trying to comfort us so we don’t worry about you. But babe... before lunch we didn’t know you were in LOVE love with him. Sure he didn’t know about your feelings, but at the same time I think a part of him had to know that the flirtationship between the two of you would’ve ended with someone catching feelings. It sucks that it has to be you. Please just allow yourself to be honest about how you feel. It sucks, but the sooner you confront your emotions the sooner you can start healing” Natalie said, I stare at her with my mouth ajar

“That’s a whole bible verse baby” I reply, feeling a lot better with this girl time but Suzy gives us a signal that the boys are back

We go to the living room and joke around for a few more minutes. After that everyone packs their things, and right when I’m about to go back in my room to get ready for bed I noticed Jeff lingering around a little bit. I shrug it off and enter my room.

“Hey..” a voice says, I freeze and immediately feel all kinds of emotions rise up, just one word and I’m already sobering up

“What do you want Jeff?” I ask, turning around and seeing him slumped over in my doorway

“I just wanted to check in” he replies, I sigh and sit on my bed

“Listen, I know we’re still friends and I know we don’t want to make things awkward for everyone, but for the sake of me and what I need, I would please like some time away from you. I’m really sorry, but I need to heal, I didn’t just have some middle school crush on you man.” “You don’t need to explain anything to me Sage” Jeff cuts me off but I shake my head and pat the space next to me so he can sit

“I’m in love with you. I wrote songs about you, I started craving your touch, your attention. I still loved you at your worse. Believe me, I wanted to make a move but I had no guarantee that you were going to love me back. And now I know, at the end of the day I’ll never be her” I reply, Jeff immediately knew who I was talking about, Ava

Ava and Jeff were together for a few short months, but believe me when I say this was like walking through a dumpster fire on a unicycle that was also on fire. It was clear to everyone from the start that Ava was with him s imply because he was slowly gaining popularity and well... his looks. Long story short apparently they got into a huge fight one night and she admitted that she was only using him for her own gain. It was a touchy time for all of us and Jeff, we told him what we thought and eventually found out (through our fans on insta who are little detectives) and he didn’t want to hear it.

“I should go. I’ll give you your time..” he says quietly, I nod and walk him to the door

After he leaves I slide my back down the door and pull my knees to my chest. I just lost my best friend because I couldn’t keep my dumbass mouth shut. Emotions come rushing through me and I can’t help but cry. I want nothing more than to scream and just crawl into a hole right now. After letting myself accept the sadness I got up and went back to my room. It’s time for me to start moving on.. or at least trying to.

#vlog sqaud #vlog squad imagine #jeff wittek #jeff wittek imagine

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danielcooperrp · 3 years

Text

Shake the House Down

“It’s a party.”

“I know that.”

“Really? Because the way you’re pacing suggests you think you’re headed for a firing squad.”

Drew makes a face at his boyfriend, who is lounging languidly on Drew’s bed. Drew, as Xander astutely noted, is pacing a line from the door to the window, wringing his hands. “Is it a big party?”

Xander tosses a hockey puck up into the air and catches it with a nonchalance that only exacerbates Drew’s anxiety. “Delta Lambda Phi can usually pull a crowd. It’s the queer frat, so it’ll probably pull people from the other universities in town.”

There is some comfort in knowing that the party Xander wants them to go to is being thrown by a queer fraternity. When Drew thinks “frat bro,” he doesn’t exactly think of friends. And Drew grew up in queer spaces, raised by queer parents—a house full of people like him should be fine.

He stops his pacing to look at Xander. “Do you...never mind.” He starts pacing again.

“Ah ah ah.” Xander hauls himself off of the bed to stand in front of Drew. Drew is actually only an inch shorter than his boyfriend, but because Xander is so much larger, the height difference feels much more dramatic. “Talk to me, Cooper. What is your brain whizzing about?”

“Well...” Drew doesn’t meet his gaze. “Do you know a lot of people who are going to be there?”

“Uh, sure, I guess. Some people from Pride, this very funny lesbian from my microeconomics class, and a bunch of people from the frat...”

“No, I mean...you know. Exes.”

There’s a pause, and then Xander bursts out laughing. “Cooper...” Xander wraps his arms around Drew. Warmth floods Drew’s body, right down to his toes. “You are worrying for nothing. I’m excited for everyone to meet you, my very smart, very sexy, very silly boyfriend. Will some of my exes be there? Maybe. I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m there with you. If you’ll go with me.”

Drew nods into his chest. Then he looks up. “Just promise not to make out with some guy in the bathroom.”

“Mmm, no shot.” Drew’s eyebrows furrow. “I am definitely making out with at least one guy while I’m there.” Then he grins and presses his lips to Drew’s.

_____

The frat house looks like any other brownstone littering the streets of Boston, except for the ten-foot cardboard cut-out of a pop star that Drew is sure he’s supposed to know but can’t remember the name of. As they walk up, the music is pounding, and Drew instinctually wants to go apologize to the neighbors.

Xander convinced him to dress down for the evening—apparently sweaters and collared shirts are not the prescribed attire for such an affair—so Drew is in a plain white T-shirt that fits more snugly than he’s used to and a pair of dark skinny jeans. Xander’s even more relaxed in 70s-style basketball shorts and a mesh tank top. He had tried to coax Drew into something similar, but gave up when he saw the panic in Drew’s face at the sigh of hot pink boyshorts. Besides, Drew couldn’t help but notice the way Xander’s eyes and hands kept gravitating toward his butt in these jeans.

As soon as they’re inside, they’re swarmed with people, but in a rare occurrence for Drew, they’re not interested in him. Xander is being pulled in every direction by the most colorful group of drunk folks he’s ever seen.

“Is that Alexander?”

“We though you died, where have you been—”

“The boy catches a few touchdowns and it’s out with the queers—”

“—those shorts, now I know why they call you tight end—”

“—not that I’m trying to play into stereotypes, sweetie, but the sink has been dripping for days—”

Drew can barely hear the fawning over the music, so he looks around at the party. It’s wall-to-wall people with the most eclectic fashion senses ever gathered under one roof: evening gowns and body glitter and flannel and sleeve tattoos and undercuts and lots and lots of naked skin. Somehow, Xander extract himself from his welcoming committee and pulls Drew by the hand into a room with some IKEA couches and an enormous fish tank.

“Sorry about that,” he says, voice raised to compete with the music. “I have been around as much. I guess they noticed.”

“Why haven’t you been around?”

Xander fixes his gaze on Drew. “I met a guy.” Drew flushes. “Now come on, let me show you off.”

_____

Xander tours Drew around, introducing him to what feels like every queer person under 25 in Boston. He’s careful to use his first name only, for which Drew is grateful; the last thing he needs is someone making a family connection right now.

After a hour or so, they’re in the kitchen, each with a Solo cup in hand. Drew doesn’t exactly know what he’s drinking, but the taste isn’t objectionable, and he’s two cups in and feeling a little looser than usual. Xander squeezes his hand and says in his ear, “You mind if I leave you here for a minute? They really want me to take a look at their bathroom sink?”

Drew makes a face. “What did say about making out with guys in the bathroom?”

Xander grins. “Only you, Cooper.” He kisses Drew’s neck, which sends a thrill down his spine, and disappears into the crowd.

Drew drifts around the kitchen, peeking into cabinets, grabbing food off of plates that keep floating in and out of the room. He gets himself another cup of whatever alcoholic drink is in the bowl on the counter, and when he turns to walk away, someone is there, smiling at him.

“Hi.”

“Um, hi.” Drew is pretty sure that this guy, blonde with deeply tanned skin, is not one of the myriad people he’s already been introduced to. This guy is looking at Drew in a way that feels foreign.

“I’m Mark.”

“Drew.” He starts to edge away, but Mark deftly steps in front of him.

“Haven’t seen you around before.”

“Oh. I’m new. I mean, to the...fraternity...party...scene...” His ears redden in embarrassment.

“Well then, tonight’s your lucky night.” Marks takes a step forward and bends to whisper in Drew’s ear. “I’d love to show you a good time.”

Drew freezes, unsure what to do. He hates conflict with all of his being, but he doesn't know how to get out of this situation. There are people everywhere, but no one is paying attention to the quiet kid in the corner. As his eyes scan the room for a face he recognizes, he feels a hand on his butt, and his entire body jolts.

He remember something his father told him before he left for college. I want you to have fun, and I want you to discover all of the secrets of yourself. But please remember that some people are going to see how quiet you are, and they are going to think that you belong to them. I don’t care what you have to do or who you have to do it to—you have to let them know that you don’t.

The ground begins to shake beneath him, slow at first, and then more violently. His head is swimmy but he manages to shove Mark back.

“What the fuck?” Mark splutters.

The ground is shaking even more now; the bowl of whatever drink vibrates off of the counter and onto the floor. People start to scream and clamor for the exits, but no one notices Drew, hands balled into fists at his sides, staring down some douche in a tank top and jean cutoffs.

Someone barrels into the kitchen. “Cooper?” Xander pauses to take stock of the tableau before him. “Oh, fuck.” He checks marks out of the way to stand in front of Drew. “Cooper? Cooper, come on, it’s okay.” He catches Drew’s eyes. “Look at me, Hey. You gotta stop the shaking before someone gets hurt.”

Drew closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. After a minute, the earth settles into silence. Drew opens his eyes. “I’m so—”

“Hang on.” Xander whips around to glower at Mark, who shrinks back. “What the fuck are you doing here? I thought everyone made it clear that you weren’t gonna set foot in this building after what you did last spring.”

Mark feigns boldness with a scoff. “Whatever. Take your mutant boy, I don’t want any part of that shit.”

Xander takes a threatening step forward and Mark scurries off. Then he turns back to Drew. “What did he—”

“Nothing. That was stupid. I was stupid.” He feels like he could sleep for days.

“Mark is a creep who likes trolling parties for freshman boys. Delta Lambda Phi banned him a long time ago, but...Drew, I’m so sorry.”

Drew shakes his head. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Xander looks like he wants to argue, but he puts an arm around Drew’s shoulder and pulls him in close. “Come on, let’s get you home.” He steers him toward the back door, where he fewer people had run out.

“I’m sorry for ruining the party,” Drew mumbles, eyes sliding shut.

A pair of lips press into the crown of his head. “You could never ruin anything, Drew.”

#v1 #drabble #drew #xander #this is all i do now #i just write drabbles of drew and xander

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hockeyboysiguess · 4 years

Text

Year One

a/n: coming up with this idea completely threw me off working the other day and i have no regrets. this has a little bit of everything in it. you like friends to lover? it’s in here. you like very large hockey players with tiny children? it’s in here. you like very soft smuttiness? it’s in here. you like cutesy dates? they’re in here. there’s a little bit of something for everyone in this one, so I hope you find a part you like!

warnings: swearing, mild smutty-sort of action, drinking, and a ton of cavity causing sweetness.

January

This party was definitely going to require another drink. It’s not that you weren’t having fun; it’s that all of your friends were having quite a lot of fun. You snuck away from your drunkest friend and headed to the kitchen to refill your cup. You sighed when you glanced over the counter holding your variously terrible options.

“Okay, what combination looks like it would taste the least like paint thinner,” you mumbled to yourself.

“Definitely the Strawberry Lemonade Svedka and the grape Fanta. It sounds weird but it turned out pretty good honestly.”

You turned toward the voice and you smiled a little to yourself. He was positively gorgeous. Strong shoulders, muscled tattooed arms, sharp jawline covered in stubble, and a smile that drew you in. He came over towards you and you noticed how much he dwarfed you and it made your mind wander.

“Is it?” you asked with a raise of your eyebrow.

“Look, your other possible combinations are objectively terrible. Like who buys birthday cake vodka?” he asked, his face scrunching at the idea. “I know it’s a birthday party but, yeah, no.”

You laughed and he smiled softly at you.

“I’m Pierre-Luc,” he told you.

“That’s kind of long,” you added after telling him your name. “Got any nicknames available?”

He laughed and scrunched his nose up as he looked at you, “I play hockey actually so I’ve got lots of things for you to chose from if you want.”

You grabbed the flavored vodka and the grape soda per his recommendations and poured them into your cup. You tried it and nodded softly. It wasn’t anywhere near as bad as you had imagined it would be. You grabbed the edge of the counter and hauled yourself up, letting your feet dangle against the cabinets.

“Hit me with ‘em and I’ll pick the best one you should exclusively use from here on out,” you said confidently, not sure if that confidence was you or the alcohol talking.

“Pretty sure one nickname picked out by a girl is going to get me chirped to no end,” Pierre-Luc sighed, but it was playful. His free hand rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, giving you a glimpse of the tattoos on the underside of his arm.

“But I’m a hot girl,” you took a sip of your drink as he raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk forming on his face. “Oh don’t even. You’ve stared at my boobs at least six times since I met you three minutes ago. You’re averaging at least two looks a minute.”

A wide smile broke out across his face as he raised his hands in the air, feigning innocence. You took a sip of your drink as you watched him, as clearly as he could manage, rake his eyes up and down your body, pausing as various points that particularly interested him. You were relishing in the attention and he certainly didn’t mind giving it.

“Guilty as charged,” he said, his smile shifting from humorous to cocky. “So, I think you were about to judge the shit out of my name some more?”

It would have made for a fun night if not for someone running into the kitchen as soon as he finished his sentence.

“Hey, you’re came here with that Kelsey right?” the guy said, pointing at you. “Because she just threw up like, everywhere in the bathroom and-”

“And gotta go handle that,” you mumbled, sliding off the counter begrudgingly. “Uh, I guess I’ll see you around?”

It came out more like a question than you’d meant it to, and Pierre-Luc nodded as he stepped aside and cleared the way for you.

“Yeah, no, definitely. I’ll see you around.”

February

Pierre-Luc had been easy to find on Instagram after the party. It was nice to confirm that your drunk mind was not remembering him hotter than he was, but you didn’t want to make the first move so you stopped yourself short of hitting the follow button on his page. If he wanted to talk to you, he’d come to you, you decided. However, that was almost four weeks ago. It was February now and you let it go, chalking it another temporary drunk connection and moving on. This is until you agreed to go ice skating a the local outdoor rink with Kelsey and a few other friends. He was already there when you arrived.

Everyone exchanged pleasantries and names. Kelsey was introducing you to the people you didn’t know yet, but you barely remembered anyone because you were anxious to talk to Pierre-Luc again. You tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. He spun around to face you. A soft smile pulled up the corners of his mouth when he saw you and you instantly realized you hadn’t practicing saying anything beyond hello.

“Hey.”

Well, now you were flying unplanned and anxious, a dangerous combination that put the threat level of saying something that was way too much extremely high.

“Hi there,” he replied, his smile growing as he spoke. “How are you?”

Thank god he’d apparently thought at least one step further than you because it gave you something to respond to and something to ask him in return. He answered that he was busy since it was hockey season and all.

“And yet, you’re here to skate on your day off?” you asked him.

He shrugged and laughed a little, “Can’t get away from it, I guess. I don’t mind. I love skating.”

“Might have to hit you up for a few pointers because I’m definitely super rusty and let’s be honest, there really isn’t much skill under the rust,” you joked with him.

“I can help,” Pierre-Luc cut in instantly, just a tad too eagerly, so he tried to smooth it over with a classic, “I mean, if you want me to.”

“I need all the help I can get,” you huffed as you sat down on the bench to start lacing up your skates.

You struggled to tighten the laces, giving them a pull with all your might as Pierre-Luc laced up both of his skates with practiced ease. You watched him tie off his second skate before you’d managed to get halfway through your first. Whatever he was doing was not at all applicable to you.

“That’s definitely half of your problem right there,” he teased you as he sat down next to you. “Your skates are way too loose.”

“Well, strong hockey man, then fix it,” you sighed, letting the laces fall from your hands.

“Not sure we’re gonna stick with that nickname,” he laughed.

He stood up only to kneel down in front of you. Your mind practically ran to the imagine of his head between your legs for something else and you had to shove the thought aside as he picked up the laces to properly tie your skates. Where you struggled, he had no issues at all. Did you pretend your left skate was looser than your right after he asked you if it did? Yes. Was the left skate looser? You didn’t even have enough experience to really answer the question, but you really liked watching his muscles tense as he pulled the laces tighter.

“Thanks, Luc,” you said as he stood up, finally satisfied with his workmanship.

“We’re going with Luc, eh? Pretty bland nickname choice.” He offered you his hand to help pull you to your feet. “You gonna be able to walk to the rink there, shaky?”

“Sometimes the most obvious choice is the best choice,” you replied, “and yes, I’m fine. Thanks for your abundant concern.”

You couldn’t see him, but you could feel Luc’s hand hovering near the small of your back in case you did fall even though you were sure you wouldn’t. You stepped out on the ice, your feet sliding a bit out from under you with the transition, but you managed to stay on your feet. You heard Luc slide onto the ice after you. He pivoted until he was in front of you, skating backwards in order to get face to face with you. You weren’t exactly looking at him though. Your eyes were trained on your skates.

“If you cut me off, I will fall over,” you warned him. You were entirely too focused on staying upright to pay much attention to him. “I learned how to go forward and sort of turn. Stopping was never in my skill set.”

“Sounds like you need a lesson from a master,” Luc joked, earning a glare from you. “Come on. It’s not that hard. I’ll show you. Trust me?”

March

“Jesus,” you muttered to yourself as some of your beer spilled on your hand. Luc had slammed some guy from the other team into the boards in front of you. “Are hockey games always this violent?”

“Have you really never been to a game before this?” Kelsey asked. “Well, free tickets right against the glass from your hot hockey player boyfriend is a hell of a way to be introduced to a live hockey game.

You shook your now beer-covered hand off and scrunched your nose up at Kelsey before telling her, “He’s not my boyfriend and you know that. We just talk.”

“Oh come on, the way he looks at you!”

She practically shouted that sentence. One of her biggest flaws as a friend after her inability to keep down more than four drinks was that she could not control the volume of her voice under any circumstance. At least this time, the venue meant she wasn’t entirely too loud for the crowd.

“You know he’s not, Kels,” you told her after taking a sip of your beer. “I don’t even know if he would want that. Literally all we do is talk and Snapchat.”

“Shirtless snaps post-practice?” she asked you, a hopeful look in her eyes. You shook your head, so she tried again, “Lots of red heart and or red heart eyes emojis?”

“Kels, stop,” you laughed. “I think it was just a thing at the party when we were drunk. It’s fine. Not everything has to be a thing. We can just be friends. I’m good with that.”

“Whatever.”

She waved you off, but at least the conversation was over. You weren’t trying to get your hopes up with Luc. You saw the way every girl in every room he went into looked at him and he was a really great guy to top it all off, but you’d been in this sort of situation before. You knew better than to try to wear your heart on your sleeve here.

That didn’t stop your heart from pounding in your chest when you saw him post-game. The Blue Jackets had won 4-3, so Luc’s smile was on full display as he found you after the post-game interviews. His suit fit him so well, darting in perfectly at his waist, making him look impossibly broader somehow. The first few buttons on his white dress shirt were undone and his tie was loosely hanging around his neck.

Kelsey had gotten in your head. Now the only thing you could think about as you looked at him was how badly you wanted to grab the collar of his shirt and pull his mouth down to meet yours.

“Ready to head out?” he asked you. He motioned down the hallway and you followed his lead, heading towards the blue double doors ahead. “I believe you promised me that I could pick the movie tonight if we won?”

“A promise is a promise,” you sighed, “even though you’re going to pick something god awful.”

He smiled wider at you before asking, “Did you enjoy the game?”

“Yeah, actually. I had a great time. Kelsey ditched five minutes before the end. That guy she met at the bar last weekend wanted to grab drinks or something. i try not to ask too many questions I don’t want to know the answers to,” you told him. “Thanks for inviting me, Luc.”

“Thanks for coming,” he replied as you stepped through the doors and into the cool air on your way to his car.

It was cold for March. Not all that cold for Columbus in March, but cold for most people’s definition of March. You still had your coat on, but thankfully it wasn’t quite gloves and hat and scarf weather anymore. You could see Luc’s breath faintly as you walked toward his car, but at least he world wasn’t quite as frosty as it had been last month on the outdoor rink with him. Something told you that your feelings for him were soon going to be inevitable, but for now his friendship was what you needed.

April

Luc’s empty beer glass slammed down on the bar next to you. He’d emptied it faster than you thought he even could.

“Fuck, I hate losing,” he hissed through his teeth. “Fucking game seven.”

You almost opened your mouth to say that at least they’d made it to the playoffs unlike sixteen other teams, but the first round exit was clearly hitting him hard. Instead, you made eye contact with the bartender, bringing him over towards you and Luc. Luckily, this particular bartender had been eyeing you since you walked in and it was definitely possible you were using it to get faster service. At least you were tipping him well.

“Yeah, can you just keep those coming for my friend here?” you asked nicely, putting on your best smile for him as you patted Luc on the back.

“Sure,” he said, smiling back you brightly. “And what would you like next?”

“Can I try the new sour you guys just made?” you asked, still keeping that smile dialed up as he poured Luc’s next beer and then handed it to him.

“Of course. I’ll be right back with that.”

The bartender slid past you a few moments layer, dropping your drink off with a thousand-watt smile, before moving on to the next customer. Luc looked at you with a soft smirk on his face and a slightly judgmental look in his eyes. He shook his head at you and clicked his tongue at you a few times as he brought his fresh beer to his lips for a few massive gulps from the glass.

“That’s not nice what you’d doing to that man,” he told you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You took a sip of your drink to try and hide the shameful look on your face. “Just drink your beer and be happy.”

Luc laughed, the first time you’d heard a genuine laugh since the loss the other night before telling you, “It’s really not fair when you do that since you have zero intention of giving him your number.”

“You don’t know how I feel,” you retorted, even though Luc was correct.

“Oh, please. I know I’m right.” Luc set down his beer as he leaned in close to you. “He’s not your type.”

“And how do you know what my type is?”

You cocked a brow at him as you took a sip of your drink. Luc nodded softly as one of his large hands fidgeted with his glass. His cheeks, forever your indicator of his nerves, turned a light shade of pink.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m your type.” His voice was steady and strong but, his hand was sliding against the slick glass between his palms and his cheeks were pink verging on red. “Something at the party was telling me if Kelsey hadn’t puked everywhere maybe the night might have ended differently?”

It was a question, but he already knew the answer to it. You tilted your head to the side though, deciding to play along.

“What do you mean, Luc?”

Your voice was soft and just a little curious, trying to force him into telling you exactly what he meant by that. Your heart was pounding as all you could think was maybe he was feeling what you had started to feel. Luc’s eyes turned to you. He was studying your face, trying to find some sign of what you were feeling. His eyes landed on your lips and your breath hitched in your throat.

“Fuck it.”

Luc leaned in quickly and you titled you head up so he could kiss you easily. He smiled down at you as one of his hands cupped one side of your face. He knew you wanted this too. His lips were inches from yours now and you could only smell his cologne and hear your heart beating in your ears as you were being enveloped by him.

“PL!”

Someone shouting made him yank away from you before his lips could meet yours. He dropped his hand from your face and his jaw tensed as he turned to look at Jonesy who you discovered was the culprit who ruined this moment

“Oh shit,” Jonesy said between closed teeth. “Uh, my bad, man. But Boone is super fucked up and I need some help getting him home and you’re the only one still here.”

Luc sighed and ran a hand over his face as he pull himself back to reality. He knocked back the last dregs of beer in this glass before he leaned back and grabbed his wallet out of his pocket. He thumbed through until he pulled out cash and handed it to you.

“Can you close my tab? Also, can you text me when you and Kelsey get home safe?” He dropped some cash on the bar next to you. “That should cover my tab and yours and a ride home.

Normally, you would’ve pushed the cash back into his hands, but the look in his eyes was telling you should take it because he wasn’t going to take no for an answer tonight.

“Yeah, yeah, no problem.”

Luc slid off the stool to his feet and went to head in Jonesy’s direction. He paused and turned on his heels to come back to you.

“Would you like go out with me sometime? Like a real date?”

May

“I did not think I’d be as bad at this as I am,” you sighed as you tried again to putt the ball into the hole on the course.

Luc managed to get two under par on the same hole and you were about ready to throw your stick in the pond with frustration. You didn’t know you could be as bad at something as you apparently were at mini golf.

“Relax,” Luc’s large hands gripped your shoulders, applying pressure in an effort to make you calm down that only made you more tense. “Maybe this just isn’t your thing?”

“It’s very clear this isn’t my thing, Luc,” you informed him as you hit your club against the toe of your sneaker. “I hate things I’m not good at.”

“Oh, competitive are we?” He took the first stroke on this hole, getting dangerously close to a hole-in-one and you knew you were about to, like every other hole, get absolutely destroyed. The score card had been accidentally dropped into the pong by hole seven and you clearly didn’t know how it happened. “Too bad I’m more competitive than you.”

“Did you just try to start an argument over which one of us was more competitive?” You tried to verbally snipe back at him as you hit the ball, but you nearly hit it clean out the source and settle for losing this round entirely. “Must be a low moment for you to have to brag about being more competitive than a girl half your size while playing mini golf.”

He reached for you, one of his large hands finding one of your hips and pulling you into him. You felt so comfortable against his chest that he reminded you of a certain feeling you couldn’t quite place, kind of like being at home. Luc kissed the top of your head, bring you back to reality.

“You missed,” you told him as you looked up at him, meeting his soft eyes with yours.

He gave you a confused look before it was replaced with a look of understanding and he verbally added, “Oh, I owe you from the bar a few weeks ago. I see.”

“You were about to do something, I think anyway, and then you had. totake Boone home and then you shipped your own ass off to Quebec,” you fake whined, pressing your palms against his chest, which somehow felt better under your hands than you could have imagined.

“Hey, hey, I apologize,” he smiled down at you, “and I came back for you, right? That’s gotta count for something. Even if I’m destroying you at mini golf.”

“Couldn’t have just taken me to dinner?” you joked, your smile coating each word you spoke with a playful edge.

“Too boring for a girl this far out of my league,” Luc replied. He reached a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear, letting the strands tangle in his fingers before he spoke again, “I’m going to try and kiss you again now, just so you’re aware. And no one is going to interrupt me this time.”

The entire world disappeared the moment his lips found yours for the first time. This moment was created and inhabited solely by the two of you. No one else could break in even if they tried. His mouth moved against yours and you felt like you were on fire. Everywhere his hands ghosted over felt like he lit it ablaze, leaving a trail of need and destruction in his wake. You were putty in his hands and he loved it so much. You wanted him and he was more than happy to meet you in the middle on a surprising cool May afternoon on a mini golf course just outside of Columbus, Ohio. You never thought that’s where the rest of your life would begin, but you couldn’t deny that it had.

June

How Luc already had sunburn tingeing the tops of his ears and the tip of his nose less than twenty minutes into being outside was beyond your understanding and you had to tease him for being one of the palest people you’d ever seen. Maybe asking him to come the an outdoor arts festival and not bringing sunscreen for him was a mistake.

“How?” you asked, gesturing to his nose.

“This is me,” he smiled at you. “Take me or leave me, sunburn and all.”

“I think I’ll keep you?”

You said it like a question, but a smile broke out across your face before you’d even finished your sentence. A matching one formed on Luc’s face and he reached for you. His large hands set on your waist, pulling you into him as his mouth captured yours.

“Hey, get a room!”

You weren’t sure which one of his teammates shouted it at you, but neither of your cared. Luc smiled against your lips and you couldn’t help but smile back, ruining the kiss but not the moment.

“Why do we go places with them?” you fake whined a little, your hands pressing softly on his chest as your spoke.

“Because they don’t get out without us,” Luc muttered softly to you. “It’s charity.”

You leaned your head back and laughed. Luc’s hands moved to the small of your back, his long fingers lacing together to support you as his laughter joined yours. You leaned forward again so your eyes could meet his.

“We should probably catch up to them,” Luc told you before his lips found yours again. “They’ll wander into some booth and a little old lady is going to convince them to buy all of her arts and crafts or something.”

Luc knew he teammates well because that’s exactly the situation you found the other boys in. This particular little old lady was apparently into making three-dimensional crotched cats. She was showing Zach a particular one she’d made that apparently resembled her calico cat she had as a small child and how she only offered it to customers who reminded her of her long lost childhood love. You took a deep breath and headed into the booth to begin a very painful rescue mission.

You didn’t realize until you managed to escape, after buying eight of her creations, that Luc had disappeared. You grabbed your phone out of your purse to see if he’d texted you where he’d gone.

“Hey, did you see where PL went?” you asked Jonesy. He took a sip of his wine slushee he’d picked up half a block ago that was already mostly empty and shook his head no. You turned toward Josh and raised an eyebrow. “Josh?”

“Nope. He’s your responsibility anyway,” Josh replied.

You looked around on your tip-toes, trying to see if you could spot his tall frame anywhere, but you were definitely too short for the task at hand. You let out a frustrated sigh and rocked back on your heels. Seconds later, a strong arm wrapped around your mid-section, pulling you into a familiar broad chest.

“Hey,” Luc whisper in your ear. “Sorry, I thought I’d be back before you managed to break them out of jail.”

“I work fast,” you replied as you rubbed along his muscled forearm currently positioned across your stomach.

You heard something rustling behind you and Luc’s other arm wrapped around you to present you with why he’d gone missing.

“Flowers!” you practically squealed, drawing a soft laugh from Luc and some chuckles from the other boys as you grabbed the flowers with both hands and pulled them into your chest. “Thank you.”

“Hey, hey.” Luc’s hands grabbed your hips and tugged, spinning you to face him. “You didn’t even let me finish before you took them so I hope your answer is yes or I’m going to have to take those back.”

You gripped the flowers protectively against your chest carefully so you didn’t crush any of the delicate petals. No guy you were seeing had ever actually bought you flowers before and Luc had remembered you telling him that on your first date, trying to figure out the right moment to fulfill your fantasy.

“Mine,” you pouted, trying to look as cute as possible so he felt bad about threatening to take them away. “What’s the question?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

He bit the side of his lip, a smile pulling up the corners of his mouth, as he waiting for your answer. It was one of the easiest yeses of your life.

July

“Cannonball!”

You weren’t sure who had jumped into the pool, just that they’d created a big enough splash that had caused water to spray up on you and Luc. Luc’s arms were wrapped around your bare stomach. His hands had been on you the entire afternoon so far and he was showing no signs of stopping soon. Some girl nearby was freaking out about how her swimsuit had gotten wet from the splash as apparently it wasn’t designed to actually get wet.

“Thank god I’ve got you,” Luc mumbled in your ear, one arm lifting off you to bring his beer to his mouth for a quick swig. “Who the hell buys a swimsuit that can’t get wet and wears it to a pool party?”

You threw your head back against his shoulder as you laughed, the drink he’d mixed for you sloshing in your cup at your movements. Luc kissed the side of your head and gave your stomach a little squeeze.

“God, you two are so cute it’s disgusting,” Jonesy told you.

“You wish you had this hot-”

Water splashing on the two of you again cut Luc off before he could finish his drunk, loose lipped sentence. You squealed a little since this splash had pretty much soaked you both.

“Wanna go inside and dry off?” Luc whispered in your ear.

You smiled, your tongue darting between your teeth as he chuckled in your ear. You quickly started to dowm the rest of your drink, nodding in response to him as you drank. You barely had a chance to finish before Luc was grabbing one of your hands and pulling you towards the house. He was trying to be subtle about it and sneak away, but he was 6’3” and still incredibly pale despite summer being in full swing, so you know several people took notice. Neither of you cared.

Luc found an empty guest bedroom and pulled you in quickly, his eagerness guiding his movements. He shut the door by pushing you up against it as his mouth met yours. Your hands grabbed at his broad shoulders as his mouth pressed hungrily against yours. He grabbed right onto your waist and lifted you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his waist for support as his tongue worked against yours.

“Fuck, baby, you look so good,” Luc mumbled as he moved from your mouth to your neck.

You let yourself drop just a little deeper into his arms so you could find the friction you both desperately wanted. Your core ground against the hardness in his shorts and he groaned against your skin.

“Shit,” he breathed out against your skin. “Trying to kill me already?”

“We do not have time for your slow and steady teasing shit right now,” you replied breathless as one of his hands slowly started tugging at the tie of your bikini top around the back of your neck.

“You’re normally,” he took the edge of one of the cups of your bikini top in between his teeth and pulled it aside to reveal your hard nipple, “much more into it.”

His mouth was on your stiff nipple before you could respond and a moan left your open mouth instead of the words you tried to say.

“Fuck, Luc,” you said breathlessly. “Stop fucking around and fuck me already.”

August

You were fiddling with the strap of your purse across your lap. Your right foot was tapping nervously against the floorboard of Luc’s car.

“What if they don’t like me?” you finally asked him. He’d been trying to get you to tell him how you felt the entire drive over to his parents’ house outside of Montreal. “I mean, I know you’re gonna tell me they will-”

“Because they will,” he cut in. “I know they will.”

“But,” you continued firmly, “what if they don’t?”

“Baby, I promise you that they’re going to love you.” Luc reached across the console and grabbed on to your hands folded around your purse strap. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this, okay? You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I’ve told them all about you and they are really excited to meet this girl who has completely swept me off my feet.”

You smiled with closed lips at his words. Your nerves were still more prominent than any comfort he tried to offer you. You let out a long breath as you tried to pull yourself together a bit. Luc had been itching to get you up to Montreal since the summer started so you could meet his family before the first game of the season and with camp on the horizon next month, August was the only time that made sense. However, two months of preparation was nowhere near long enough to calm your nerves, but you weren’t sure if there was an amount that would have gotten the job done.

“It’s just,” you sighed again, “I know how important they are to you and if I fuck this up, what’s going to happen?”

“You’re pretty much physically incapable of fucking this up,” Luc laughed, giving you a sweet smile. “Look, if they don’t like you, you can punch me in the face for lying to you, okay?”

You shook your head and tried to fight the wide smile he was pulling from you, but you couldn’t. Luc leaned in and placed a quick kiss on your lips.

“Alright, get out of the car while you’re still smiling,” he ordered you. “Let’s go.”

Four hours later as you sat back in Luc’s passenger seat on the way back to his apartment, you couldn’t remember why you’d been so nervous in the first place. His dad had decided you were good five minutes in and within the first hour, he’d moved you up to great status. His mom was harder to read, but you knew you’d cracked her when Luc prompted a conversation about baking and she took an interest in your family apple pie recipe which involved not one but two kinds of liquor in it.

“You know they love you, right?” Luc told you. “They made sure to tell me when you went to the bathroom.”

You smiled and reached over to pat his knee. You weren’t going to tell him you’d heard every word his parents had said to him.

“Luc, she’s great,” his mom had said to him. “Really, she’s welcome here anytime. She’s wonderful.”

“Looks like you learned a think or two from me about getting a women very far out of your league to date you,” his dad had joked.

“And she was worried you guys wouldn’t like her,” Luc laughed to them.

“We could never dislike someone who made you this happy,” his mom replied.

“She really does,” Luc sighed. You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke about you. “She’s just, she’s everything, you know? Including so many things I didn’t realize I wanted. She’s beyond anything I’d ever thought about. I’ve just never met someone that makes me want to be a better person that she does and that’s way too much information. Mom, are you crying?”

“You just, god, you’re so grown up. Look at you!”

When the moment shifted, you had headed back to the bathroom just to give them a little more time. Luc’s voice when he spoke about you was on a loop in your head and it played like a broken record the entire car ride back to his apartment. He was so genuinely happy when he talked about you. It was the kind of joy that infected the people around you, pulling them in even though they didn’t quite understand it. Your mom had told you that you sounded the same way the first time you told her about him. You let your mind linger on what they could mean as you fell asleep wrapped up in his arms that night. You couldn’t quite figure it out, but you knew it meant he was important to you and you were important to him.

September

The stress of camp and the approaching season had made you both crack at the same time on a cool September evening. You’d both said things you didn’t mean, hurling words designed specifically to hit each other’s weak spots. You’d walked out after a particularly sensitive verbal jab from him and he didn’t come after you, two major issues stacked together. He’d picked you up after you finished work today, so you didn’t have your car, a series of events you were currently regretting as you wandered aimlessly around his neighborhood. You’d passed the point of clearing your head and now you were just painfully aware of the fact that you left your jacket on Luc’s couch and it was colder than you’d thought it was.

You pulled out your phone and opened up Uber. Unfortunately, the nearest ride to you was over fifteen minutes away. Stupid Thursdays in the middle of the night in Columbus. You kicked a nearby rock with the toe of your sneaker as you sighed. Naturally, you had to fuck you the best thing in your life. It’s what you’d always done.

“Oh thank fucking god.”

You looked up in time to see Luc running up to you, arms outstretched. He wrapped you up in his arms and you stiffened. He pressed his face into your hair to envelop you in him, ignoring how you were unsure what to do in the moment.

“Fuck, you just left. I was so worried,” he mumbled into your hair.

You hadn’t even thought through your anger enough to realize that going out in the middle of the night by yourself might not have been the smartest idea. You slowly wrapped your arms around his waist.

“I know I was a shit head, but please promise me you won’t just walk out like that again.” Concern coating each word as it left his lips. “I was so fucking worried. I’m so fucking sorry, baby girl.”

"I’m sorry, Luc,” you mumbled against his chest.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispered back. “We’re both just stressed right now and I know I took it out on you and I shouldn’t have. You deserve a hell of a lot better than me taking the stress of the season coming out on you.”

“No, no.” You pulled back from him a bit so he could hear you clearly and you continued, “It’s okay to be stressed about the season starting. I took my stress about it out on you. I just, this sounds so stupid, I know, but I just worry that when we can’t spend as much time together that you’re not going to like me as much and something is going to happen because we won’t be together as much and I just really, really, really don’t want that to happen.”

You knew you were rambling, letting your nervousness come out all at once. You were losing track of what was actually coming out of your mouth and what was just flying through your head at this point. You noticed Luc’s brows furrow as he listened to you. He was shaking his head softly from left to right as you spoke. He must have had enough of listening to your rambling nonsense because his lips crashed into yours as his hands cupped your face in an attempt to get you to focus your energy somewhere else.

He pulled back from you an inch, “That,” then brought his lips back to your briefly, “is,” kiss, “not,” another kiss, “going,” another, “to,” again, “happen.” He kept his mouth on yours this time, his tongue sliding against yours for a few moments before he pulled back again. “What else could I possibly want when what I’ve already got is so much better than I ever imagined anyone could be?”

You pushed him back against a nearby fence as you crushed your lips to his. Your mouth moved against his as his hands grabbed any part of you he could, moving from your face to your waist, grabbing your ass briefly, palming your breasts, anywhere he could think to touch.

“We should go home,” you breathed out as he moved his mouth to your neck.

“Oh yeah? Taking me home now, are you?” he mumbled against the sensitive skin of your neck.

His words with dripping in innuendo. Normally, you would’ve rolled your eyes at him and shoved him away jokingly, but there was a look in his eyes when they met yours again that went straight to your core and made your skin feel like it was on fire. So, you let him take you home.

October

"Luc!” you screamed. Your hands flew to his hair to try and get some stability as he started to lose his balance. “Luc!”

“I’m going to drop you if you don’t stop fucking wiggling,” he told you.

You glared down at him, not that he could see from your position on his shoulders. You squeezed your thighs in a little, applying gentle pressure on his neck to showcase your displeasure at how difficult he was making this process.

“Choking is my job and not where there’s all these little kids around,” Luc sang softly at you. “Did you get it yet?”

You stretched your arm out as far as you could and still needed to lean forward just a tad to get your hand to rap around the perfect apple you’d spotted from the ground.

“I got it!” you told him excitedly.

Luc laughed at your excitement. It was just an apple, but it was an apple that could’ve sat proudly on a kindergarten teacher’s desk and now it was your apple. He gently sank to his knees so you could get off his shoulder without causing too much risk of injury to either of you. It was a pretty high fall from his shoulders after all.

“You’re so useful.” You pat Luc’s cheek as a thank you with your eyes never leaving your apple.

“I feel like I’ve been replaced by a goddamn apple,” he said, annoyance permeating his voice. One of his heavy arms slung around your shoulders to pull you into his side. You sort of fell into him since there were already so many apples littering the ground of the orchard that you tripped a little, but he easily supported you. “Do you want to put your apple in the bucket or are you going to hold it the entire time?”

You glared up at him, drawing a laugh from him. You knew he thought you were too cute to ever succeed at looking threatening. You still maintained your glare as you gently placed the apple in the bucket with all of the others you’d already grabbed. Having a tall man to go apple picking with was giving you far more apple options than you normally had.

“These apples are indirectly for your mother, so consider the effort for your mother rather than for me,” you told him.

She was coming to town to watch the game this weekend and Luc had a day off prior to her arrival, so you decided that getting some fresh apples and making her your family apple pie recipe would be a nice gesture since she was so interested when you visited her back in August.

“You know she’d still like you even if you didn’t bake this pie and you’d just let me have my way with you all day.” Luc had whispered the last part in your ear, being careful that all of the children running through the orchard didn’t hear that.

You rolled your eyes at him, but let him pull you into his chest more as he kissed the top of your head.

“Um, excuse me, mister?”

You and Luke both turned to see a young girl, maybe five or six, standing a few feet away from you. Her mom was right behind her, watching the interaction carefully. Luc took his arm from around you so he could sink down, getting as close to eye level with her as he could.

“Hi,” he smiled softly at her. “My name’s Pierre-Luc. What’s your name?”

“Annie,” she said, a bright, toothy smile breaking out across her face. “You’re really tall, Mister Luc. Could you help me get an apple?”

“You know, I actually just did that for my girlfriend,” he informed her, gesturing to you as he spoke. “I think I got one more lift in me though, if that’s okay with your mom.” He looked over to the girl’s mom, who enthusiastically nodded at him.

“Honey, can you show the nice boy which apple you want?”

She pushed the little girl towards Luc and she immediately grabbed one of his hands and took off running, pulling him with her down the orchard. Her mom came to stand next to you as they came to a stop shortly, just a few trees over from where they started.

“Seems like you’ve got yourself a good one there,” the mom said softly to you. “I don’t know any guy close to his age that good with kids.”

You watched as Luc carefully placed his hands on his waist and lifted her up towards the apple of her dreams and you couldn’t help but smile. You’d seen him with the Savard children before and how good he was with them, but this one felt a little more real, a little more like this was something you could see in your future.

“He’s a good egg,” you told the mom. “I’m really lucky.”

“He’s cute too,” she said with a playful nudge of your arm. “Don’t let that one get away from you.”

“Mommy! Mommy!” little Annie screamed as she ran back to her mom, a bright red apple in her hands. “Look what I got!”

“You did? Look at that beauty!” she replied.

“Thank you so much,” she told Luc. “You absolutely made her day. Thank you again.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Luc assured her. “If she finds another one you can’t reach, come find me and I’m happy to help.”

You were pretty sure the mother thanked him at least seven more times before they headed off into a deeper part of the orchard. You looked over at Luc with a wide smile on your face and shook your head softly.

“What?” he asked you as he titled his head to the side as he tried to figure out how you were feeling.

“Just debating if you’re a Disney prince or something in your spare time is all,” you replied.

He blushed in response and smiling impossibly wider and you were a goner. Relationship were always terrifying to you, having to put that much of yourself into someone and trust they’ll treat like like you deserve to be treated. The potential directions relationships could go were vast like the ocean. You’d typically gone out to sea in the past with looming storm and had never stayed to far from the shore. With Luc, you’d slowly paddled out to sea, trusting a storm wouldn’t come and overturn your boat. Now, you were in so deep you couldn’t see shore anywhere around you anymore and for some reason, it didn’t scare you in the slightest.

November

“Baby, can you pass me the salt, please?” Luc asked you, hand outstretched toward you.

“Salt!” you shouted as you put it in his outstretched hand.

“Thank you. The pepper too?” he asked. You knew the ask was coming, so you were already prepared and slapped it into his waiting hand.

“You two are so precious.”

You hadn’t realized your mom had entered the kitchen until she spoke, making you and Luc jump a little. Luc had just enough time off right round Thanksgiving and your family was close enough to Columbus that you were able to make the day trip to spend it with them. Your mom had insisted you bring Luc along. She said she was going to make your good Canadian boy “American fat” for his first American family Thanksgiving. You knew better so by the transitive property Luc knew better than to try and resist your mom’s will, so you were both in the kitchen early on Thanksgiving morning helping make dinner.

“Uh, thanks, mom,” you told her.

Your eyes locked with Luc’s before you returned to chopping the celery for the stuffing you were making. He gave you a sweet smile before going back to stirring his pot. Your mom, the forever hoverer, headed over to observe Luc’s cooking, meaning she grabbed a spoon on her way there to taste his work in progress. When you’d first told her about him, you mentioned he knew how to cook and she didn’t believe a guy that young, that attractive, who plays that heteronormative-enforcing of a sport could cook. Based on her expression when she tasted the gravy, she realized how wrong she’d been.

“Oh my god, that’s incredible, sweetie,” she told him, a look of pure shock still present on her face.

“Thank you,” he replied as his cheeks tinging with pink in mild embarrassment.

Your mom patted him on the shoulder and threw her spoon in the dishwasher, knowing you’d get on her case if she’d come in and just left something for you to clean later, before she headed back into the living room where the football game was on.

“Thanks for coming.” You were pretty sure you’d said it to Luc at least a hundred times since you drove down last night. You couldn’t express how much it meant for him to take some of the very little rest time he had during the season and spend it with your family, one of the least restful things you could think of. “I mean it, PL. I really appreciate it.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” he told you, his eyes never leaving the recipe book in his hands. “You know I’ll do anything for you because I lo- really care about you.”

You paused for a second and your breath caught in your chest. Had he almost just told you he loved you? Did you feel the same way? Did you just hear what you wanted to hear? Did you even want to hear him say that to you?

You shoved the thoughts aside, deciding that rambling thought process was better saved for another time, and walked over to him. He must have heard your feet as you shuffled over to him because his arm closest to you was already up and outstretched and he’d shifted to holding the recipe book with one hand. You accepted the invitation and wrapped both of your arms around his waist, sighed contently when you were pressed against his warm body.

“I really care about you too, Luc,” you told him, “and I really appreciate you coming with me. Can’t thank you enough for coming.”

“If you thank me one more time, I’m going to return a Christmas gift,” Luc sang softly to you, his eyes transfixed on the recipe. “Do you think it matters if I- oh fuck it, I’m just gonna throw it all in and see what happens.”

December

“Okay, you have to do this.” Luc threw the icing bag down on the kitchen table causing white icing to squirt everywhere. You were grateful you’d picked up a cheap table cloth just to do this like your mom always had. “My hands are too big for this.”

You laughed and grabbed the gummy wreath and the icing bag from in front of him. You carefully coated the back in icing and put a little extra on the door of your gingerbread house to make sure it would stick before placing it gently on the door.

“See, big man hands can’t do that,” Luc told you knowingly, making you laugh.

“Think you can handle putting the Cinnamon Toast Crunch on the roof like shingles?” you asked him, offering up the box of cereal in his direction.

“You are a creative genius with gingerbread, you know.” Luc took the cereal box from you. “You should quit your day job and become a gingerbread house designer.”

“Are you going to financially support me in the off-season? Seems like a very seasonal job without a ton of revenue opportunities,” you popped a candy Christmas light in your mouth, “but a lot of free goodies seem to be included.”

“Of course,” Luc replied without missing a beat.

His concentration was mostly on gently placing each individual cereal piece on the roof in careful, slightly overlapping lines to create a decorative roof. His tongue poked out between his teeth as he lined up a piece right on the edge of the roof and you snorted a little at the sight.

“Don’t laugh at me. I’m trying to support your vision here,” Luc told you in a jokingly serious tone.

“Your support is incredibly valuable to me.” You rolled an icing covered ice cream cone in green sprinkles to create a green tree for by the front door of the house before continuing, “This project wouldn’t be where it is without your endless support.”

“Mm,” was all he could say as he was back to the opposite edge of the roof again.

He cursed under his breath as his phone started to ring on the counter. He was covering in royal icing of various shades and sprinkles.

“Baby, could you get that? It’s probably my mom,” Luc asked you.

You got up and grabbed his phone off the counter. He was right. It was his mom. They’d just gotten to the airport they were connecting through to get to Columbus and just wanted to give Luc an update. You relayed the message and told her you were looking forward to dinner later with them, but you have an important construction project you needed to finish first so she wouldn’t launch into a conversation the length of their layover.

“She’s mad she doesn’t get you Christmas,” Luc told you as you sat back down. “My mom,” he added when he saw your confused face before elaborating further, “She understands why, but she says you’re part of the family, so she’s mad you’re not actually going to be here for Christmas.”

“My mom feels the same way,” you replied. “Not sure it’s you or your cooking she’s really missing though. Maybe next year we’ll bring everyone together here in Columbus? We’re going to need a bigger place though if we’re going to host that many people.”

“We’re going to need a bigger place for next year, eh?”

Luc emphasized the words “we” and “next year.” You hadn’t even realized you’d said that and now you realized that you’d suggested you were going to be together a year from now and that you would be okay with your parents meeting his at that point. You just jumped from casual banter to an incredibly serious future conversation.

“Well, I just- I don’t know. Forget it,” was all you could come up with as a response and you started fidgeting with the container of sprinkles in front of you as a distraction.

“I’d love all of that.”

You turned your head to face him, your eyes searching his face for any sign of discomfort at the idea his part. All you could see was him looking at you the way he always had, since the first day you met him almost a year ago now.

“I want you out of your shitty ass apartment with Kelsey. I want to see you on Christmas next year. I want to watch our dads try and interact.” You both laughed at that thought and then Luc continued, “I want you here with me all the time because I love you.”

Your mind had been racing last month when he’d almost said those words, not sure exactly how you felt. In this moment where the words had actually come out, a wave of calm came over you. This didn’t scare you at all like you had thought it would. This feeling had been building since the first time you met him and you hadn’t been able to place it until he said those words out loud for the first time. You knew you loved him.

“I love you too, Luc.”

#pierre luc dubois #pierre-luc dubois imagine #pierre-luc dubois #pierre luc dubois imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #hockey imagine #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction

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jasonndeans · 3 years

Text

young gods - shane “dio” morrissey x reader

word count: 1,990

warnings: brief scene involving harassment and brief use of the f slur at the end.

chapter: 1/?

summary: You weren't looking for anything when you met Dio, but you also couldn't take your eyes off of him. You were drawn to him, shrouded in black mystery and his softer side he kept well hidden under that duster. A part of you knew when you first saw him, he was destined to fly too close to the sun. At first, it wasn't really anything he said or anything he did. It was the feeling that came along with him. You'd never felt this way before, and the crazy thing is, you didn't know if you should. You knew his world moved too fast and burned too bright, but...how can the Devil be pulling you towards someone who looks so much like an angel when he smiles at you? Maybe he knew that when he met you, too.

Dio didn’t have much to bring with him on the day he took you up on your offer to live with you in your small New York City apartment; small, albeit big enough for two. He carried almost all of his earthly possessions with him in his pockets — the keys to his father’s ancient, barely running Honda, a pack of cigarettes, loose cash and change, and his trusty switch. The rest would have to be crammed into his car and hauled over, mostly consisting of clothes and shoes, thrifted or stolen.

“I was wonderin’ when you’d rescue me from the Smack Shack,” he’d quipped, lips curling.

“The Smack Shack” is what he’d dubbed the worn-down, abandoned place he and his buddies — all of them pursuers of a list of drugs, some of them sellers like Dio — often crashed in when a softer, more secure sofa couldn’t be reserved for the night. Thus, The Smack Shack. You’d visited a handful of times despite the fact that it gave you the creeps. Dio had your trust, as did…some of his friends. The neighborhood just wasn’t the safest in Manhattan, needless to say, and there was no guessing what shady characters were looming about in these hollowed out homes. You’re just glad he’s out of there. And with you.

“Ohh, I rescued you, huh?” You’d teased back, your voice lilting in a sing-song tone. “I must be your knight in shining armor.”

He hummed in the back of his throat with a mock grimace, leaning forward to kiss you. “Don’t make me sick, birdie.” His lips were chapped and tasted of smoke, and as much as you detested the habit, it was something so purely Dio. A smirk played on his lips upon pulling back with decorated fingers idly tapping out a rhythm onto a tabletop of a squat little sandwich shop you worked at. “I seem to remember things differently.” Expectant, he cocked his head, casting a shadow of his star-shaped earring onto his neck -- one of many, many things that endeared you to the boy in black.

As if on cue, you turned sheepish with a duck of your head and a bashful smile cast downwards. He was referring to the day you two first met. Officially, that is. Along with the thrill of waitressing and constructing sandwiches, you worked behind a cash register at a record shop -- Empire Records. Music’s always been a constant comfort for you, in your ears when you needed a voice to scream your sorrows, your rampages or your little victories. You’d amassed quite the collection of records as you grew and your music taste with you for a player you’d fixed up and obtained from a seller when on the hunt for more important things like furniture and necessities to fill your then new apartment. You didn’t consider yourself to be one of those douchey vinyl connoisseurs, but you liked the place well enough. It was only a matter of time before you noticed the tall, dark, handsome boy who’d frequent the place without buying anything. He’d stick to the Industrial Rock or Post-Punk ailes and he definitely looked the type, decked head to toe in grungey black attire, adorned with silver jewelry and chains. Every so often the two of you would lock eyes, make slightly painful small talk about whatever was playing through the speakers. You even inquired once if he’d learned your shift schedule with how often he’d appear when you were working, and, leaning suavely on his elbows before you, he’d replied:

“Maybe I have. Maybe I haven’t. That all depends...would you think I was a creep if I said yes?”

Perhaps a normal individual would confirm this, but you had to admit the guy was cute. Okay, he was hot with his dark eyes lined in black, brow piercing and air of confidence. So you smiled and shook your head. Dio smiled back.

You recall during one of your early morning shifts, Dio asked for your coffee order, motioning to the cup in your hands. You gave it to him and he advised against grabbing your morning coffee the next time it was scheduled on your calendar. With curiosity, you obliged and on that day and each day after, in he strolled with your cup in one hand, his in the other. So you carried on like that for a while, chatting over coffee, much to the dismay of your manager.

“Your boyfriend’s a distraction,” she’d remarked one day. “And a loiterer. I don’t care how dreamy he is, he can’t keep hanging around here if he’s not gonna buy anything.”

Admittedly, that caused your heart to sink a little. Yeah, you understood her frustration from a business perspective, but despite not even knowing this guy’s name, his gloomy presence brightened your otherwise dull work days.

When you transferred your manager’s message, Dio issued a breath of...disappointment?

“I don’t believe in money,” came his confession, almost hardly classifying as one what with how casually it was delivered. He chuckled at your raised brow. “Everyone’s a slave to these meaningless pieces of paper and metal, even you. ” A nail painted black pointed at you. “If I want something, nine times outta ten, I’ll find my own way to get it. Seems a little fucked up to work for the essentials for survival, don’t you think?”

For a moment, you sat with this new information. Yeah, it was a little fucked up to fork over hard-earned cash for things like basic needs, but how else was someone expected to live? Mulling it over, you sipped your coffee, once again brought by him. You shot Mr. No-Name-Kid a knowing look. “Am I drinking stolen coffee?” Your smirk couldn’t hide from him.

Dio only laughed.

One night as you closed up shop, you were disheartened at the absence of a certain trench coat clad “customer” in the store that day. You couldn’t place where this was coming from. After all, the two of you were only..what? Acquaintances at most? Names hadn’t even been exchanged, and yet you found yourself scanning the streets outside for any sight of him at the door; reminded of his face when bands like The Cure filled the shop.

Your sigh deflated you as you dug for your keys in your bag -- both to lock up and for your car. It was whatever. This guy had a life too and was under no obligation to visit you as you worked. You turned the key to Empire Records, locking it shut and gave the doors a pull to be sure, Yup. All good. Nodding to yourself, you turned to locate your car in the lot next door. The night was brisk, pushing past the fabric of your cardigan as you walked an empty sidewalk. Under the glow of buzzing streetlights and neon business signs, you tugged it closer to you. The work day was dwindling, at least on this street, cars every so often rolling past. You’re about halfway to the car park when your ears catch a second pair of footsteps behind you. Your lips and spirits lift with the hope that they might belong to the heavy boots of Dio after all and you turn to greet him.

“Nice night, huh?”

This guy’s not Dio. His hoodie covers shaggy chestnut hair, hands in his front pocket as he trudges along. This dude reeks of weed and booze. You ignore him and continue on your path.

“Not a talker. Got it. Listen, honey, you don’t gotta clam up around me, I’m a swell guy. I’ll walk ya’ to your car, that’s where you’re goin’, right?”

Jaw clenched, you ball your cool hands into fists at your sides, keeping your car key poking out from between your fingers should this douche not get the hint. “I don’t need an escort, thanks.” Your reply is sharp, eyes remaining en route. Other than that, you try your damndest to ease calm through your body. Tempting as it is to dash to the safety of your vehicle, you’re not about to put any fear on display for him. You’re okay. Breathe. The lot’s less than a block away now.

Then a hand snakes its way around your waist.

“C’mon, baby, ‘m just tryn’a be a gentleman. Isn’t that what broads want?” His breath is rancid in your nose.

You jerk away, shooting daggers. “Offer declined, now leave me alone.” Now you pick up the pace with your destination in sight. You don’t make it far before you’re jerked back by fingers at your forearm that tug forcefully. The bastard opens his mouth to spew more drovel, but you don’t give him the chance to speak. Screwing up your face, you reel your arm back and jab him with your key in the ribs.

Pain sputters through his lips. No skin was broken (unfortunately), but he’s stumbled back a few paces and grabs where you’d struck him. “You bitch!” He spits, his glare glassy. “Fuck’s your problem?!”

You’re halted by a chilling mixture of fear and shock at your own actions, snapping out of it when the drunk stranger lunges forward. No time is wasted in absolutely fucking booking it now. He may be hammered, but you’re taking no chances. You pay no attention to the string of swears and slurs from behind you and finally reach your car. The vibrations in your hands make unlocking the door difficult, and glancing up you can see your pursuer drunkenly heading toward you.

“Fuck!” You cry. “Stupid fucking--!”

“If I were you I’d stop right there, you piece of shit.”

The familiar voice that hadn’t been there prior snaps your head up, scanning the darkness to catch Dio crossing the street looking more menacing than you’ve ever seen him. You could get in your car and peel out of there right now, but you’re frozen in place watching the scene unfold.

Your attacker finds his way to his feet again, looking dumbfounded at the character who’s walked onto the scene. “Who -- who the fuck’re you?!”

You catch a smirk on Dio’s lips under flickering streetlights. “That all depends on what your next move is, jagoff.” He looks pissed as all hell, though there’s a layer of calm to his words that stirs your stomach. Dio now stands in front of the other with his hands in leather pockets, like he’s provoking him. He’s always exuded this...intimidating aura, clad in all black and chains but you’ve never seen this side of him in action. Maybe now is a bad time to come to this realization, but you have to admit: it’s sexy.

“Oh that’s, ‘s cute,” Mumbles the brunette guy, snickering. “‘S this your boyfriend comin’ to the rescue? Looks like a fuckin’ faggot if I’ve ever seen--”

Dio’s boot to this guy’s crotch cuts him off in the middle of his “insult” and he crumples to the concrete with a groan; if that isn’t enough, Dio lands a second kick to his temple.

You can only stand there lamely with your jaw agape and watch him swagger over after he just knocked a dude in the nuts.

“Sorry I was late,” he says smoothly. “I was in a meeting. You alright?”

Stupidly, you blink at him in the low light. “I--um...I’m…” Real nice. You shake your head to jumpstart your brain. “Yeah, I-I’m okay. I’m good. Thanks. Really.” So he’d come to see you after all.

Dio nods, appearing grateful to hear you’re unharmed.

You two begin to speak at the same time and chuckle in unison. He falls silent, ushering you to continue. You look your rescuer in the face, unable to swallow a smile. You’d missed those eyes, seeming so warm in the cool of the night. “So, do I get to know the name of my savior?” You prod.

He laughs once, low in his throat. “Dio.”

#shane dio morrissey #shane dio morrissey x reader #pedro pascal #dio x reader

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