#again my answers are a bit weird because i’m usually more shocked by crazy physics and extreme relational drama lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sundaysundaes · 3 years

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My Words, Your Thoughts (Teaser)

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut | Soulmate AU, Friends-to-Lovers AU

Part of the beautiful ‘Aubade’ collaboration hosted by @hyucksie

Synopsis: As an introvert, you are familiar with the silence. Drowning yourself deep in your thoughts has been a habit you’ve become addicted to. Your life begins to change, however, ever since the day you turned twenty. Suddenly, there’s this song that’s stuck in your head, and no matter how much you yearn to hear your thoughts or be comforted by the silence, it keeps on playing. You only get to find the answer to your problem when a young, cute barista hands you a cup of coffee one day, with that song’s lyrics written on the side. And you realize that you’re not the only one who’s been hearing voices in your head.

Warnings: explicit sex, expletives, mentions of physical abuse and astraphobia (not for the main characters)

WC (Teaser): 4k

Release Date: June 27, 2021, 10 AM KST

It’s weird. It’s so weird.

It’s weird that you’ve been hearing this song replaying over and over again in your head when you’re sure you’ve never listened to it before. It’s also weird because sometimes the song sounds like the ones you often hear about on the radio—complete with instrumental accompaniment and everything—but most of the time, it just sounds like someone is humming to it. Sometimes quietly, but more often than not, vehemently like they’re having a concert in the shower, not caring if the neighbors might hear.

As someone who rarely listens to mainstream music, you don’t keep up with the trend these days but the tunes are catchy enough that you think, maybe, it’s one of those Justin Bieber’s songs people always talk about. You’re not fond of it, though, so even if you’ve heard it somewhere in a cafe or a mall, there’s very little chance you’ll be humming it in your head.

And yet, it keeps on playing.

It gets worse when it goes on for a whole day—a whole fucking day—that your brain feels like it’s seconds away from bursting into pieces. It doesn’t even sound like your voice. It seems like it belongs to a male, a bit light and a pitch higher than most. Though it sounds pleasant, the voice is unfamiliar to your ears and that’s what bothers you the most.

Trying your best to escape, you plug in your AirPods to your earholes, choosing one of the most beloved tracks from your playlist—today, it’s Bloom by The Paper Kites—to help you relax as you lie down on your bed. But no matter how many times you turn up the volume—it’s practically turning you deaf, ironically—you can still hear that one goddamn song playing.

“Oh my God,” you groan, projecting a murderous glare at the ceiling of your room before you shriek all of your heart’s content to your pillow. “Make it stop!”

This has been going on ever since your twentieth birthday and it’s been three months since then—three months of suffering, to be exact. Fortunately for you, you haven’t been listening to the same song for those amount of time—God, you would’ve killed yourself if that was the case. The song changes without warning. It can change ten times within a day, or stay the same for ten days. You have never heard of these songs except for the popular ones, and even then, you only ever listened to snippets as they don’t suit your taste.

So… It doesn’t make sense that you could recite the whole lyrics, does it?

And yet, you can.

Somehow, you already know every word, every tune, even every ad-lib in these songs and it both amazes and creeps you out. It’s as if somebody else is singing about it in their mind, and you, somehow, are mentally connected to them.

But that’s surely not the case, right?

With more days passing by, as your brain deteriorates little by little, you start to think that maybe that is the case.

Or maybe you’re just going crazy.

It’s nine in the morning and your eyes are bleary from how you involuntarily skipped sleep last night. With the loudest sigh and your half-charged MacBook sitting still in your backpack, you let your wobbly legs carry you to the nearest coffee shop. There’s a new Starbucks store opening just a couple of blocks away from your apartment and it’s perfect since you’re going to pass it every day on your way to college.

You’re not excited though, not when you have Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror playing in your head for the, approximately, thirty-fifth time that day. And it’s only nine in the fucking morning.

When you enter the coffee shop, greeted by a cute Christmas tree and festive decorations spreading all over the place even when it’s still three weeks away from the holiday, you almost weep in joy when the song stops playing in your head. It does happen from time-to-time, sometimes it stops for a few hours before it starts again with the same song or an entirely different one. But in most cases, it only pauses for a few minutes which just doubles the torture whenever you’re trying to concentrate on your paperwork.

“Hi.” You display a timid smile at a female barista, slightly wincing when the song in your head starts blaring again, as expected. It’s still the same song this time—so that thirty-sixth by now, Jesus Christ—but instead of someone humming it, it’s the original version that plays. You’re having trouble focusing on her greeting when the sound of a synthesizer echoes through your ear, stridently so. “I would like a tall skinny latte with a double shot, please.”

“Would you like anything else to accompany your drink?”

Perhaps a gun to blow my head off? “No, thanks. That’d be all for me.”

“Is that for here or to go?”

You take a quick scan of your surroundings. You still have an hour before your first class starts and since the place isn’t that crowded, you figure you might as well just spend some time here. “For here.”

You tell her your name and slide down your card to complete the payment. “All right. We will call your name once your order is ready.”

“Fantastic. Thanks.” As the female barista takes an order from another customer, you drag yourself to an empty seat in the corner of the room, next to the glassy window where you can glance at passersby. You lay your head down on the table, cheek pressed against the wooden surface, lower lip jutting out in weariness. You’re drowsy and you want to think about the snow that’s probably gonna fall sometimes near Christmas’ Day and maybe the sight of a warm fireplace where you can cozy up with your imaginary boyfriend (also known as Jung Jaehyun—that one perfect boy who lives just across of your hallway), but no, unfortunately for you, you no longer have any space left in your brain since Michael Jackson is performing a damn concert and it doesn’t seem like he’s gonna stop anytime soon.

“I’m starting with the man in the mirror…” Great, now you’re singing it. “I’m asking him to change his ways…”

The music in your head abruptly stops again but before you can close your eyes to finally enjoy your silence, a familiar voice chimes in.

“It’s a great song, isn’t it?”

Shocked, you quickly lift your head to identify a male barista placing down a cup of your ordered latte on your table. You swear you recognize his voice but his face doesn’t ring a bell.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I don’t usually bring orders directly to the table but I think I misheard your name so I couldn’t call you out from there.”

“That’s, umm, that’s okay…” You hide the bottom half of your face behind your scarf as you’re not used to talking to a stranger, especially one that looks overwhelmingly pretty. “What did you think my name was?”

“Umm…” He rubs the back of his nape awkwardly. “I don’t think you want to know. It was a bit… inappropriate.”

“R-right…” You glance at the cup. “It says ‘Michael.’”

He chuckles but with only a slight hint of amusement in it. “Yeah, sorry about that. I had to come up with something and it was the first thing that came to mind.”

“And it has…” Your eyes widen when you notice the words he’s written on the side of your cup. It’s not a greeting, it’s not a motivational sentence, it’s the fucking lyrics to Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror.

“Yeah, okay, so—” Noticing the appalled look on your face, he hurriedly tries to reason out. “I’ve had this song stuck in my head all day long—I just listened to it a minute ago while making your order—and the lyrics are just so inspirational so I decided to write that down. I hope that’s not too weird.” Then he laughs a little, a tad more genuinely this time. “But I heard you singing that song just now. What are the chances, right?”

You swallow hard. He’s been thinking about that song too? Listened to it a minute ago? What are the chances of this is happening? Is he the one whose voices I’ve been hearing in my head—

The male barista abruptly takes a step back, his tray nearly slipping out of his hold. He has a hand pressed against his ear, eyes blinking several times in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You—” He splutters, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I can’t believe it’s real.”

“What?” The way he seems like he’s looking at a ghost sends goosebumps all over your skin. “What is it?”

“Think about something.”

“Umm—” What is he talking about?

This time he gapes, his jaw dropping low. “Holy shit, I can really hear you. Think about something else—think about me.”

“Look, I don’t know you and you’re being weird.” The sudden change of conversation baffles you but when his words sink in, you can’t stop yourself from thinking about him as he orders. He’s cute, his entire features are cute—you’ve noticed that from the first second you laid your eyes on him, but what catches your eyes the most is his lips—the way they’re shaped so beautifully, like a cupid’s bow—

“You’re thinking about my lips? Seriously?” He asks, but might as well splash cold water to your face. “If you said something about my eyes, sure, I mean, they are attractive. One might even say that God Himself took the stars from the sky and put them in my eyes—but my lips? Huh, that’s new.”

You loudly gasp when you’re finally aware of the situation, hands flying to your face to cover your gaping mouth. “You can hear my thoughts!”

“And you can hear mine too!” He points out, and as startled as you are from the previous realization, you instantly frown upon his words.

“I don’t think so,” you reply. “I can only hear—”

“Donghyuck-ah!” Another barista comes to interrupt from the other side of the room. “We didn’t pay you to flirt, come back here!”

“I wasn’t flirting!” He shouts back, tips of his ears reddening. When he turns to you again, he has a prominent scowl on his face which makes you squirm on your feet. “We need to talk about this. My break is in an hour, do you think you can wait?”

It sounds more like an order than a request. “B-but I have a class in an hour.”

“Skip it.”

It takes all the strength in your body to be brave enough to retort back with, “Why don’t you skip your work?”

“I’m already half-done with my work, I can’t bail out now.” He rolls his eyes. Suddenly, his courteousness just vanishes without a trace. “Look, I’ve been hearing your thoughts for months now and I have a lot to complain to you about.”

You grimace. “It’s not like I can control my thoughts—”

“I know, I’m not blaming you.” He picks up the tray, his gaze softening but only slightly. “I just want to complain. You’ve been driving me crazy these past few months.”

You glance away, pouting. Wow, he surely knows how to befriend a stranger.

“I can hear you, you know.” He sighs as if talking to you is exhausting, when it should be the other way around. “Look, I’m sure you’ve been going through the same thing. Don’t you want this to stop?”

You’re not wasting any second. “Yes, please.”

“Then wait for me. We’ll talk this through.” He pivots on his heels, his tray glued to his side. When you can finally breathe properly, exhausted from the social interaction as you sink back to your seat, the barista—Donghyuck—adds, “Oh, as you wait. Can you please stop thinking about my lips? Or just how cute I am in general? It’s sweet but I gotta concentrate so I won’t write another Michael on my next order.”

You slam your forehead down the table, face aflame. “I-I’ll try.”

“Thanks.”

***

“You just can’t stop thinking about my lips, can you?” Is the first thing Donghyuck states out as soon as he’s approached your table. He runs a hand through his brown hair, which looks out-worldly fluffy that you begin to wonder what kind of hair product he’s been using. “Or my hair.”

Mortified, you mumble out, “I’m sorry,” with half of your face covered by your hands. The more I try not to think about his lips, the more I do—shit, is he hearing this too—

“Yes,” Donghyuck says, but this time with an amused smile. “Man, I didn’t know my lips were that appealing to ladies. You’re gonna make me blush.”

Well, he’s making you blush for sure. “Would it be too much to ask for you to stop listening to my thoughts?”

“Believe me, woman, I’ve tried.” He groans, taking his apron off before he sits in front of you. He loosens up his collar, unbuttoning two buttons of his white shirt—which is two more than necessary to your liking—and you have to gaze away before another thought forms inside your head about a certain part of his body.

“Sorry if I came on too strong before. I’m Lee Donghyuck,” he introduces formally, offering you his hand. You reply with your name but you’re reluctant to shake his hand since you’re sure you’re breaking into a cold sweat, and an overly sweaty palm doesn’t really scream attractive—

“It’s literally just a handshake,” he says, stifling down a laugh. “I’m not gonna start judging you about it. You’re cute, sweaty palms or not.”

You nearly choke. “If I can’t ask you to stop listening to my thoughts, can you please be quiet about them?”

“That’s also impossible since talking is an integral part of my charm.” He leans back to his chair. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.”

That was… a poor choice of words, you think, as you stare at his lips and can’t help but wonder what can that mouth do other than talking. You take a bite of the bagel you just ordered, desperately trying to avert your attention.

“It wasn’t a poor choice of words.” He winks. “I did mean that in every way possible.”

This time, you really are choking.

“Okay, so what’s happening to us?” Donghyuck questions, after you manage to shed a tear or two during your attempt in relieving your throat. “Why have I been hearing your thoughts? I don’t even know you.”

“Same here.” You’re still going through a hard time keeping eye contact with him, but with more seconds passing by—and him pronouncing every bit of your thoughts out in the open—the knots inside your chest begin to loosen. “Ever since I turned twenty, I’ve been hearing these songs playing in my head that I’d never even heard of.”

“Never heard of?” Donghyuck snorts. “What, you never listen to Billboard’s top forty?”

You weakly shrug. “I prefer indie music better. Or instrumentals.”

“I would say that you have a soul of an old lady but the way you’ve been thinking about my lips reminds me of my sister who’s going through puberty.”

“Okay, this isn’t fair.” You shake your head, ashamed and tired of being humiliated over something you can’t fix. “Why can you hear my thoughts but I can’t hear yours?”

“Believe me, you’re much better off this way.” His face contorts in pain which makes you feel somewhat sorry if he’s not constantly being an ass about it. Hearing your insult, he notes, “Also, I’d prefer to be called with terms of endearment in the future, if that’s okay with you. Something like Babe or Darling.” The way he raises his eyebrow is just strictly illegal. “And in return, I’ll call you Sweetheart.” But before you can say anything—or run toward a running bus to put an end to this endless humiliation—he questions, “Wait, when you hear the songs I’ve been thinking in my head, does it sound like the original version of the song, or like me singing it?”

Finally, a proper conversation. “If you’re listening to the actual music, I can hear the original song as if I’m hearing it through my headphones. But when you’re just thinking about it, well, I‘ve never heard you sing, but,” you decide to tease him back—which startles you from how blatant you’re being. “From how amateur and pitchy this voice sounded in my head, I think I’ve been hearing yours.”

“Cute.” He scrunches up his nose. “Okay, let’s try again. Can you hear what song running through my head now?”

You stiffen, sitting in silence. After a few seconds pass by with only you exchanging stern stares at each other, your eyes gleam with a spark of hope. “Wait, I can’t hear you. Does this mean it stops? Because we’ve met in person?”

“Sadly no, because I was just thinking about how silly you looked when you choked over your food earlier.” He chuckles to himself and sends you another wink when you degrade him in your head. “Okay, let’s try again.”

“For real this time?”

“For real this time, Sweetheart.” He closes his eyes, holding back a smile when he catches how you flinch a little at his pet name for you. This time, you really do hear him humming inside your mind. “Don’t tell me by words,” he immediately adds, “Just think about them.”

Heaving a sigh, you close your eyes too. I’ve heard this song somewhere.

“If you’ve never heard about this song, I will literally cry and apologize to the world on your behalf.”

Be quiet, please, I’m trying to concentrate.

“Worried that you’d be thinking about my lips again?”

You almost fall from your seat. Almost. Okay, you’re singing to… You knit your eyebrows together as you provide your best effort to remember the tunes. You’re singing to Super Mario Bros theme song?

“Correct.” He taps his fingers to the table, simpering. “This is actually pretty cool. We can be, like, partners in crime or something.”

You shudder. “Please don’t tell me you’re an actual criminal.”

“If looking this handsome is a crime then I am, yes. Guilty as charged.” He makes a kissy face when you think about throwing the rest of your bagel to his head. “You look like someone who writes fan-fiction about their idols having sappy first kisses in your spare time but you’re actually pretty wild in your head, aren’t you?” He loves seeing your reactions, you know that, so you give your all in trying to act nonchalant. “Now, let’s try again. Did you bring your headphones with you?”

You check your coat’s pocket. “I got my AirPods.”

“Perfect. Put them on and play something from your phone.” As someone who’s pretty carefree, he can get serious at times. “Play as loud as you can until you feel like you’re going deaf.”

“I’ve tried that many times.” You nearly wail at the memory. “But it’s hard to drown your voice since it comes from inside my head.”

“Yeah, I know that. I’ve been hearing your thoughts too, remember? Don’t you think I would at least try something like that?” You narrow your eyes menacingly at him but he simply waves you off. “Anyway, that’s not what I’m trying to do. Put them on and you’ll see.”

He’s ordering you around. He just met you and he’s ordering you around. Socializing with people in general already zaps your energy pretty quickly, so socializing with a brat—

“I’ll grow on you, don’t worry.” He smirks and you take a mental note to really learn how to control your thoughts this time.

You follow his lead, as requested, connecting your AirPods to your phone and play something relaxing—because God knows how desperately you need it—as loudly as you can bear. Okay, go try… whatever it is that you want to try.

He smiles and shifts slightly on his seat, facing the window. His eyes glimmer under the light when he parts his lips, mouthing some words—no, singing something that you can’t hear.

Wait. I can’t hear?

Donghyuck glances at you, a grin breaking further on his lips upon hearing your thought. He gestures to you to take your AirPods away and you nod. Vacation Manor’s You promptly fades as his voice enters, and it’s weird because you’ve heard him sing in your head so many times yet it doesn’t do justice to how beautiful he sounds in real life.

It’s almost angelic, the sound he makes, which is kind of ironic for a little devil that he is. His honeyed voice is soothing, almost like the patter of rain on your window at dawn, lulling you back to sleep. You’re no expert in music but to you, he sounds impeccable that you run out of words to describe how pleasant his voice is to your ears. It’s so distinct, soulful—

Donghyuck giggles. “Thanks.”

—and annoying. “Okay, so what happened?” You try to divert the topic. “I can’t hear you when you’re singing out loud, but I can hear it when you’re thinking about a song?”

“I guess so.” He furrows his eyebrows, deep within his thoughts. “I figured it out when I couldn’t hear your thoughts whenever you spoke out loud. I think we can work from this?”

“So instead of thinking about what I have to say, I should focus more on saying what I want to say?” You shake in horror. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What, you don’t like talking?”

“I’m…” You swallow your breath. “I’m not really good at that.”

“You’re talking to me just fine now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, because you make it so easy.”

“Aaw,” he purrs, a lopsided smile painting his face. “Thanks, Sweetheart.”

“No.” You hold up a hand. “I mean, since you can hear my thoughts, I have no other choice but to speak. Also, you seem like you’re the type who just says whatever that comes to mind without worrying too much about my feelings—”

“Hey, now you’re just making me sound rude—”

“You are rude,” You emphasize. “But it works well with me because then I don’t have to hold myself back and pretend to be somebody else.”

“Why do you have to pretend?” He frowns. “Because you’re afraid people are gonna hate you? Judge you on your words?”

“It’s…” You look away, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I just… I’m trying to be a good person so people will like me—”

“I like you,” he says casually as if he was talking about having a cute Pomeranian as a pet, and there you are, almost fainting in your seat. “I mean, in the last forty minutes I’ve known you, I think you’re great the way you are. You don’t have to be good, you just have to be you.” He shifts closer, crossing his arms on the table, and lays his chin on them, gazing up at you with a soft smile that doesn’t match well with his previous attitude. “Don’t you think it’s great if people accept you the way you are?”

You hurriedly take a sip of your coffee, pretending to swallow even if it’s already empty. “You’re… not so bad yourself.”

“What was that?”

“Okay, well I think I should go.” There’s no way you’re gonna repeat that. Donghyuck titters, taking a hold of your wrist when you’re about to stand up from your seat.

“We still have loads to talk about.” You observe the way his fingers linger around your arm, his sun-kissed skin feels silky smooth against your own. “Why don’t we have lunch together? My treat?”

“D-don’t you have work to do?”

“I’ll make an excuse.”

A barista with the word Jeno written on his name tag walks by and slaps Donghyuck on the back of his head as if it’s something he’s done on a daily basis—probably is. “You’re not going anywhere, asswipe, get back to work.”

When the brunette boy turns to you, he winces. “Or maybe you can give me your number so we can meet up later?”

***

A/N: I’m both nervous and excited for this as this is my first collaboration. Thank you so much, Denise, for having me on this wonderful collab!

#haechan smut #haechan fluff #haechan angst #haechan x reader #haechan collab #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #nct smut #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct 127 #nct dream #haechan drabbles

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babybluebex · 3 years

Note

can I please request a sebastian stan imagine where sebastian and the reader are both dating other people but they end up liking each other after filming something together, and the rest is up to you? xx

distance [sebastian stan x reader]

➽ pairing: sebastian stan x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 1.9k ➽ summary: see above! ➽ warnings: explicit language, mentions of tom hiddleston x reader, angst, pining ➽ a/n: enjoy!

Jealousy was new to you. Sure, you turned green every so often, but it wasn’t a usual occurrence. It happened infrequently enough that you forgot the way it felt every time it bubbled up again. Recently, though, you were familiar with jealousy.

You weren’t quite sure when it started. Maybe when you first met Sebastian. It was at the premiere for Avengers. You had been in it, playing Tony Stark’s daughter Lucy, who was kidnapped by the crazed Loki. In filming your scenes with Tom Hiddleston, you had grown to appreciate him, and the premiere was a sort-of announcement that you were dating. By that point, you already knew that you would be in the next Captain America movie, and you were thrilled to work with Chris and Scarlet again. On top of that, you were excited to meet Anthony Mackie.

You didn’t know that Sebastian would be in Winter Soldier until he approached you at the premiere. He looked handsome, suit and rings and slicked hair, and he congratulated you on an amazing performance. “Oh, I loved you in First Avenger,” you told him with a smile. “Bucky was my favorite by far. I cried when he died.”

Tom wrapped his arm around your waist and nodded in agreement. “She was truly a mess,” he said. “We had to pause the movie.” He shook Sebastian’s hand, and the force of it wasn’t lost on you.

“I got emotional during your scene together in the Tower,” Sebastian said. “Lucy begging for her dad, and Loki’s unrelenting cruelty. I just… Wow. It blew me away!”

“Thanks,” you said. “Are you gonna visit the Winter Soldier set?”

Sebastian laughed and bit his bottom lip. Full and pink. He was so totally handsome, and you felt lightheaded even being in his presence. “Well,” he started. “I’m actually in it.”

You gasped. “What? How? Bucky died!”

“He was rescued,” Sebastian said slowly. “By HYDRA. And he comes back.”

“Oh, my God,” you laughed. “Oh, you just made my entire night. Wow! I-I can’t wait!”

Sebastian nodded, and he looked to his side. A few meters away, a woman was talking to the press, and she quickly came and kissed Sebastian on the cheek. You recognized her as one of his co-stars from Once Upon A Time, and you felt that unfamiliar jealousy bubble in your stomach. Why were you jealous? You were on the arm of one of the most talented and successful actors, and, besides that, you loved your boyfriend.

So why did you want more?

Filming for Winter Soldier started, and you quickly found out your character’s storyline. She was working with Steve and Fury to help in reparations of the New York fiasco from Avengers, and she was the first one to encounter the Winter Soldier. She wouldn’t recognize him and would tell Steve about her encounter with a super-soldier, and Natasha would tell the story of the Winter Soldier, how he was a myth and a ghost. The directors, the talented Russo brothers, had told you that an arc would extend past the movie and into the sequels where Lucy helps break Bucky Barnes from his brainwashing and they would eventually fall in love. But, they assured you, that was several films off. They didn’t even plan for Lucy and Bucky to kiss until the next Captain America movie.

You and Sebastian became quick friends. Despite the metal-like prosthetic and long hair and heavy makeup that he wore on set, you found comfort in him. You couldn’t explain it, but you felt at ease with him. Between takes, you could be found laughing and jokingly sparing with him.

One night, after filming, you called Tom. He was on a press tour for Dark World at the same time, which meant that your schedules never lined up. That night was the first time you had properly talked to him in weeks. “Hi, love,” you said. “How’re you? I miss you like crazy.”

“I miss you too, darling,” Tom told you in his smooth baritone. “I’m alright. Tired as hell, though.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Just talk to me,” Tom sighed, and you imagined him leaning his head back. “Tell me about filming.”

“Well,” you began. “A lot more physical than what I’m used to. A lot of running around and everything, ya know? My legs are sore all the time.” You laughed, and you listened to Tom’s scratchy laughter. “But I’m surrounded by great people. The Russos are awesome, and of course, Chris and Scarlet and Samuel are fantastic.”

“And Sebastian?”

You hesitated to talk about Sebastian. You hoped that your boyfriend hadn’t caught onto your infatuation with him, but that’s all it was. It was just a crush on a hot guy. “He’s cool,” you said. “Really funny and friendly. Most of my physical scenes are with him.”

“I know you can’t tell me much,” Tom said. “But do you get to snog him?”

You laughed, but bit your cheek all the same. “Not yet,” you chuckled. “That’s not until the next Captain America movie.”

“Oh,” Tom said quickly. “I was joking, but… Do you and Sebastian have any scenes like that?”

“Not in this movie, love,” you assured him. “Are you jealous?”

“Just a bit,” Tom admitted. “I just wish that it was me that you were kissing.”

You sighed. “That’s the nature of our jobs, huh?” you said. “I wish I was kissing you too.”

Tom was quiet for a moment, then he mumbled, “I think maybe we should take a break.”

You wanted to be shocked, but you knew that it was coming. It was several months in the making and, with nothing concrete keeping you two together, it was inevitable. You weren’t hurt at all. “Me too,” you said softly. “We just… I can’t do long distance. It sounds cliche, but it’s not you, Hidds.”

“Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder,” Tom sighed. “But…”

You nodded. “I understand,” you said. “But please, if you ever need someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to call me. Alright? I still care about you loads.”

“Same to you, darling,” Tom whispered. And the call ended.

The next day was weird, to put it plainly. You felt ill all morning and you couldn’t figure out exactly why, but, the moment you saw Sebastian, you understood it. Your boyfriend’s jealousy was powerful. As much as Tom wanted to blame it on something else, you knew that it was the green monster that had prompted the break up. “Hey,” Sebastian said cheerfully, placing a playful jab to your arm. “You seem tired.”

“Gee, what a nice thing to say to a lady,” you chuckled. “No, I’m just…” You sighed. “Tom and I broke up last night. I’m a little weird today.”

Sebastian’s face soured. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said. “You guys seemed so happy together.”

You shrugged. “We were,” you said. “‘Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder’... But I guess it doesn’t.”

Sebastian frowned deep, and you pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m really fucking sorry,” he whispered. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” you said, pulling out of his strong grip. Even without the actual metal arm, he was strong as hell. “Just a hug is enough.”

“I’m glad I can do that,” Sebastian said. His eyes sparkled, and he added, “I understand what you’re going through. Jennifer and I broke up a few weeks before filming started.”

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed. “Seb! I had no idea! I’m so sorry.”

Sebastian shrugged. “It was for the best,” he said. The hug had yet to break, but you didn’t mind. Even through the layers of his costume, you could feel Sebastian’s heartbeat on your cheek, and it was soothing.

Filming finished several weeks after your breakup with Tom, and then it was time for your own press tour. Marvel paired you with Scarlet for most press junkets, but sometimes you were put with Sebastian. Those days were your favorite, mostly because absolutely no work got done. You two were forever laughing and making fun of each other, and you always saw edits of your interviews on social media.

Finally, the premiere came. You and Sebastian had already agreed to be each other’s dates, but you were blown away by him. His hair was short and styled, and he looked breathtakingly handsome in his expensive black suit and matching black tie. “Oh my fucking God,” Sebastian laughed when he saw you, though. “You look… Holy shit. So beautiful.”

“Oh, God, stop,” you groaned. Your dress was a beautiful thing, custom Dior, red silk that hugged your body just right, and you shivered when Sebastian’s warm fingers trailed down your exposed back. “You look even better.”

“Well, that’s not possible,” Sebastian scoffed. “You’re gonna steal the show.”

“When I’m next to you?” You asked. “Everyone’s gonna be focused on your pretty blue eyes.”

Sebastian smiled softly, his hand finally settling on the small of your back. “I have something for you,” he said gently.

“Oh, Seb!” you groaned. “You did not buy me something. You know I hate that!”

“Aw, c’mon, you’re gonna love it,” Sebastian said, and he reached into a pocket inside his suit jacket. He pulled out a small box, just big enough for a pair of earrings or something equivalent, and he opened it. You gasped. A ring. Silver metal, two diamonds with a ruby nestled in the middle. It was dainty and gorgeous, and you felt tears pricking at your eyes.

“You piece of shit,” you sniffled. “I just had my makeup done and now you’re ruining it!” You hugged him all the same, though, and you whispered in his ear, “It’s so gorgeous, Seb. Thank you.”

When you pulled out of the hug, you looked at Sebastian, admiring him. He was truly a gorgeous man, and you felt your chest grow hot at the look in his eyes. Were his pupils blown from love? Lust? Something else entirely?

He answered the question. Sebastian placed his hand on your cheek and tugged you into a kiss, the hand on your back pulling you in against his body, and you held onto the back of his neck. He was everything you thought he would be: his lips were soft and tasted so nice, like cinnamon and whisky and all things wonderful, and, when the kiss broke, he rested his forehead against yours. “I…” he started. “I’m sorry, Y/N, that was-- I shouldn’t have--“

“Stop,” you whispered firmly. You knew that Sebastian, the man you were able to call your best friend, was prone to anxiety, and you didn’t want a single anxious thought about you to cross his mind. “Don’t apologize. If you hadn’t kissed me, I would have kissed you. Thank you.”

You saw Sebastian’s hands shaking as he slid the ring onto your middle finger, and you smiled at how perfectly it fit. “Bucky,” you whispered, admiring the ring. “Silver and red… Right?”

“Glad you caught that,” Sebastian chuckled. “Look, I know that I’m just your date, but I just really like you. I feel stupid because I’m so nervous about it, but… Seeing you upset over Tom just made me feel so horrible. I never want to see you like that again, and if I can help to make your days better, then I want to. Can I?”

You touched your hand to his cheek, and you nodded. “Of course,” you told him. “I’d love nothing more, Seb.”

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan x reader fluff #request #ask #anon

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petals42 · 4 years

Text

been so long and now...

Alright, not writing the fic but this is the fic I want to read for julie and the phantoms (okay updated note: I wrote it basically). Going to try to keep this quick (LOL it’s 7k). We’re starting after season 1 here.

[7k, Reggie-centric, Julie POV, child abuse mention, Ray is a good dad.]

Alright, the boys can now touch Julie (sometimes) and can still be seen when playing music, but other than that, it’s not super clear how much actually changes. And after that day in the garage, life seems to even out a bit. Which means Alex is off looking for Willie and Luke and Julie are spending a lot more time writing music together (and okay, maybe that’s new but if both of them ignore it, it's fine) and Reggie is back to hanging out with Ray.

Ray can’t hear him or see him and the conversations are by necessity very one sided. Either Reggie filling Ray in on his day slash his ideas on ghosthood or Ray talking to himself/the computer but somehow it becomes fairly commonplace for Julie to walk downstairs and find her dad talking to (around?) her dead teenage bandmate. And there are times, sure, where she is like is this weird?? Should i say something about this??? But Reggie is kind of being left on his own a lot and she never really wanted to listen to her dad mutter about cameras and if that’s how Reggie wants to fill his days then… well that’s not her business. Neither party seems to mind. Probably because her dad doesn’t actually know.

Of course, the Julie-magic power does eventually start working more and more and then Carlos knows they are ghosts and then her dad hears them talking in Julie’s room when Luke accidentally starts humming and then catches a glimpse of them in garage when there’s no lights on so he doesn’t see how the hologram is working and--

“It’s time to tell him, I think,” Julie says to the boys and Luke nods and looks excited and Alex twists his hands around his drumsticks the way he does when he is a little anxious (but mostly okay) and when Julie glances over at Reggie, she expects that large megawatt smile that he directs at Flynn or Carlos but instead, he looks even more uncertain than Alex.

“I dunno,” he says, one shoulder raised. “I feel like we have an okay system?”

His concerns get drowned out by Luke and Alex and Julie herself pointing out that her dad is in photography, at some point he is going to realize that this hologram technology does not obey the laws of physics and/or light, plus he keeps almost seeing them just around his house and…

They play a song to tell her dad and lately, the boys have been able to be seen longer and longer, especially when they are just in the studio and don’t officially bow so once her dad gets over the initial shock (which, admittedly, takes him a little longer than Flynn or Carlos), there are introductions and--

Julie finds herself glancing at Reggie the whole time. Waiting for him to bound forward and say that actually he knows all about Ray and actually they’ve hung out quite a bit and actually, it was him that’s been slowly doing the puzzle with Ray in the corner room and maybe the other boys do too because there are a lot more awkward pauses that she thought there would be but Luke seems to realize it halfway through so suddenly he is taking the lead (and maybe trying to impress her father like omg what???) and so it kind of gets forgotten. (especially afterwards, in her room, when her dad lowkey tries to grill her about her relationship with these boys and she doesn’t have good answers and ugggggh maybe they should’ve stayed holograms).

Anyway, things are still mostly normal after that. The boys are not often seen or visible (except more and more to Flynn and sometimes Carlos) and so Reggie is often back to hanging around her dad and one time Julie does ask him “Do you let him know that you’re here?” and “Oh no,” Reggie says. “I wouldn’t want to bother him.” And Julie guesses that’s true, Reggie is normally chilling with her dad when he is editing photos so, alright. Again, she has lots of other things going on. There isn’t much point in digging into this.

Except then-- then the boys start being seen more and more around the whole house. It starts in the studio and then sort of spreads and it’s a weird new normal for sure, them still walking through walls whenever they want so you can’t forget they’re ghosts, but you sure can see them around a lot. And if Julie is around and can make them solid, they can eat and so it become a not rare occurrence to have the boys come eat dinner 2ish times a week or at least try to (Julie’s “powers” only work about a fourth of the time, to be honest, but they can be seen so they usually hang around.)

And right around when that becomes common place, suddenly Reggie stops hanging out with Ray.

I mean, it’s not something that Julie notices right away but suddenly Reggie is around the studio a lot more and sometimes she assumes he is in the house only to find out he has been hanging by the beach or with Alex and Willie and there’s no real reason for worry but it sort of… lurks in the back of Julie’s mind. A weird sense that something isn’t quite right there, that Reggie used to love hanging around her dad and giving her dad full reports of their days and, okay, maybe it was weird but still… it bothered her. Now that it was gone.

And then, her dad asks her about it.

Not directly, but he comes sort of frowning into her room, asking if the boys are okay, and “yeah, why?” Julie says and..

“Oh, I dunno,” her dad answers, looking over his shoulder and drumming his fingers against his thigh. “It just feels… I don’t know, the house feels empty? Like… sometimes I think there should be someone and-- you know what, nevermind. It’s probably in my head.”

“No, no,” Julie says because she’s lied to her dad enough. “You’re right. I mean, Reggie used to hang out in the house all the time.”

“Reggie,” her dad says. “The bassist. He did?”

“Yeah, he was probably… what you were sensing.” and Julie has an awful moment of wondering if her dad thought that presence around him was her mom and if Reggie being more busy with other things was like losing someone all over again and--

“That’s what that was!” her dad sounds happy. And relieved. “Sorry. Who. Who that was. I thought I was going crazy.”

“No,” Julie shakes her head. “He’s real. And he was around a lot.”

“Hm,” Ray says and turns to leave. Then turns. “You know… he’s still welcome, you know? Unless you guys are practicing more…”

“I’ll tell him,” Julie laughs. And then shoos her dad out because she has got to work on this chemistry homework and sometimes it sucks -- having three ghost bandmates who should be in high school but who never have to do anything and don’t even try to help her and--

*^*^*^

“Hey,” Julie says, plopping down next to Reggie on the couch. It’s a few days later but this is the first time they’ve been alone-- Luke and Alex, realizing they were solid enough to go eat and running for the kitchen, Reggie opting to stay behind.

“Hi, Jules!” Reggie says and he doesn’t seem any different. With her and the band, he talks just as much as always, big bright smile, whining about the need for a country song, laughing at all their mishaps.

“I have a question.”

“What’s up?” He twists to face her, giving her all his attention. He does that, she realizes. Focuses on her. All the boys do, to some extent, but with different energies. Reggie’s is the biggest, she thinks. Honest and open.

“So… I’ve sorta noticed that you haven’t been hanging out with my dad as much anymore?” Julie tries to keep her tone casual. She’s not accusing him. She’s just… curious.

“Oh,” Reggie says and his head tilts as if confused by her confusion. “Well, yeah.”

There’s a beat. Julie thinks Reggie is going to keep talking. Reggie does not. Reggie turns back to where he was tuning his bass. “Uh, why?” she finally asks.

Reggie frowns at her. “Well, he can see and hear us now,” he says, as if this is very obvious.

“So?”

“So like… I don’t want to bother him,” Reggie says. “He does a lot of work during the day. It was one thing when he couldn’t hear or see me but now you know… I’m annoying.”

It’s Julie’s turn to frown, even though Reggie is already looking down again. There’s something about the way he says it, I’m annoying that bothers her. He says it as if it is an obvious fact. As if everybody knows it. As if it’s true.

“You’re not annoying,” she says. “I don’t think you’re annoying.”

He blinks at her. “Well, no, you don’t,” he allows. “And Luke and Alex don’t. Most of the time.”

“And Flynn and Carlos,” she adds.

“Most of the time. But still, see, all kids. Teens,” Reggie says. “But old people… parents are different. You have to--”

He cuts himself off and for a moment, his hand grips the neck of his bass tightly and there is a tension in his shoulders and suddenly Julie thinks she maybe is in a little too deep here. She doesn’t want to upset him.

“You’re dad is really nice but he still… It’s different,” he says and he shoots another smile at her, but it’s tight and fake and he jumps up the moment Alex and Luke burst back into the studio.

“So close,” Alex mutters as they come back in. “I had the sandwich IN MY HANDS.”

“Dumb choice,” Luke says, mouth still clearly full of something. “You gotta just hit the snacks, my friend. Focus on what’s quick and easy.”

The boys all head for their instruments and the moment is passing, Julie knows, and she also knows she now has clues that maybe she should put together but she doesn’t have time and why couldn’t her powers last just a little longer this one time? But-

“You should still go hang out with him again,” she tells Reggie as Luke starts tuning up and Alex gets settled behind his drums. “He misses you.”

There’s no time for Reggie to ask any questions but his frown of confusion as she turns away says it all.

*^*^*^

It grows, this curiosity and she realizes she doesn’t know much about Reggie’s parents. Luke’s, she obviously knows very well and she knows the story very well and she has heard enough about Alex’s to know that they are not worth seeking out but Reggie’s…

She’s never even heard him mention them. Not even in all their conversations about Luke’s. And this is a sensitive topic for all the boys and she doesn’t know how much to push or even whether to push so--

“What were Reggie’s parents like?” she blurts one day. Luke startles and looks up at her and that’s fair as they had been in the middle of writing a song and there was no reason for her to ask.

“What?” Luke says and she gets to watch as he tries to switch his brain over from music-mode to conversation-mode.

“Reggie’s parents,” she repeats. “What were they like?”

And she knows she’s hit on something when Luke’s head goes down and his shoulders come up and “I dunno,” he says. “It’s… we didn’t hang out there that much.”

“But you must know something?” Julie presses. “Like… did they ever come to see you guys play?”

“No,” Luke says and he’s leaning further away, eyes cutting to the door. “Look, I--”

“Were they against him playing music?”

“Uh- I don’t… Why are you asking?”

The question forces Julie to pause. And she chews her bottom lips as she tries to figure out the answer. Why is she asking? What does she think? What does she actually need to know?

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I just… he’s never even mentioned them.”

“Well, then… we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” Luke says and that’s fair, she knows it is, but she can’t help if she doesn’t have some information. And going to Luke was at least better than just googling.

“So there is something to talk about,” she says softly.

“No, I don’t… look,” Luke says and takes a breath. “Reggie never…. He never said anything about them, really. Not even when we were alive. He just… I don’t know. I told you, we never hung out at his house.”

“So you think they were…?” Julie lets the sentence dangle. Luke glares at her a little. Then takes another breath. Fiddles with something on his pants. Doesn’t speak. “You know I’m just trying to help, right?” Julie asks. “I just--”

“Reggie was really quiet,” Luke interrupts. “When we met him, I mean. He was… he was really shy.”

“Reggie?” Julie asks and she can’t help the disbelieving tone. That doesn’t make any sense.

“Yeah,” Luke says. “He was a great bass player, obviously, and nice enough but… really quiet. He… didn’t even laugh really. He just hung back a lot and… it’s weird to think about. Now that I know him.”

“You think he was that way because of his parents?”

“I mean… I dunno. Maybe?” Luke shrugs. “The few times he met my parents, he was… really weird.”

“Weird?”

“Just… weird.”

Julie opens her mouth to ask more questions, to say that that answer wasn’t specific enough, but Luke finally meets her eyes and suddenly she knows that this conversation is going to end.

“Look, if you want to know more, you can probably ask him,” Luke says. “Or like… don’t. It’s not like it matters anymore now, right?”

And there’s a trace of bitterness in that and a trace of please stop and more than a trace of I am uncomfortable with this conversation and so Julie lets it go.

“Yeah,” she says, worried she pushed too hard. “Yeah, you’re right.”

*^*^*^

The clues are all there and Julie isn’t sure what they point to, so she tries to listen to Luke’s advice and remember that it doesn’t really matter. Reggie doesn’t have to see his parents again and it doesn’t matter and he continues to seem absolutely fine with the band. Fine and happy and--

“Helloooo?” she hears him call from the front door, just as she’s hitting the top of the stairs. She turns, a bit confused because the boys never bother announcing themselves but she opens her mouth to tell him she has to finish homework before rehearsal today and then closes it when she says that he is not looking at her at all, but towards the kitchen.

She walks down a few steps. Bends over so she can peer down and see what he’s looking at.

Her dad is sitting at the counter.

“Hello!” Reggie is louder this time, and then waves his arms a little bit for good measure and her dad doesn’t see him, she realizes, doesn’t even flinch at all the noise and the arm flailing and she is about to tell Ray that Reggie is there when suddenly, Reggie’s face bursts into a grin and, seemingly satisfied that he is undetectable, the teenager plops himself down in the stool next to Ray.

Julie watches as her dad continues muttering to himself for a minute and then he pauses, and shifts, and glances, and she doesn’t know if he caught a glimpse of Reggie or if he can just sense it but his mouth quirks into a slight smile and he talks more now, at maybe a higher volume, but still to himself and Reggie doesn’t seem to notice the change, so she leaves them to it.

Reggie is still there when she finally finishes her homework two hours later.

*^*^*^

It doesn’t really get that much better. Reggie still avoids the house when he is visible and, when she catches him with her dad, she somehow knows that he had made sure he was undetectable before risking it and he doesn’t talk as much now, not when he’s learning from conversations with Flynn and Carlos that sometimes it’s part way through a conversation that they are suddenly audible, but she hopes it’s a little bit nice, at least, that Reggie is there at least part of the time.

*^*^*^

They play a particularly good show and the boys stay visible for 5 straight days. Reggie avoids the house the whole time.

*^*^*^

It’s a Friday night when Julie finally gets her biggest clue. It’s a rare quiet Friday. They don’t have a gig all weekend so there’s no rehearsals and Carlos is home and the boys aren’t visible or audible to anyone but Julie so most of her time is spent laughing at what they say and then having to explain to her dad and brother and she thinks they are going to try to play a game, maybe like Clue? Something all the boys can play, though Luke is pushing for twister even though the boys can literally go through people so that doesn’t seem fair at all and--

Something (a ball) whizzes past her head as she and her dad are bent over trying to remember the Clue rules and then she jumps as there’s the unmistakable sound of breaking glass.

There’s a moment of stillness and then it makes sense. There’s a vase broken on the ground and a baseball rolling under the kitchen table and she turns to see Carlos, looking shocked, mouth already open to apologize.

“Carlos!” her dad says, standing and moving, doubtlessly to go get the broom. But there is glass everywhere and his voice comes out angry because this is not the first kitchen object Carlos has broken by a longshot. “How many times have I told you not to play--”

Things move very fast then.

Her dad is moving towards Carlos because that’s where the broom is and Carlos is standing still and looking down because he already knows he’s going to get in trouble and then just as suddenly, Carlos is sort of stumbling back because he’s been pulled back and Reggie is standing where Carlos just was.

Squarely between her dad and her brother.

“It was me,” Reggie says. And he sounds sort of breathless but also certain and he’s not moving from where he stands.

Carlos is still sort of gaping that he was just pulled back by a ghost and Julie can see the other two boys processing that fact, the fact that Reggie just managed to touch another person and Ray jerks to a stop because a full teenage boy has just popped into existence in front of him. So no one says anything.

“I threw the ball,” Reggie repeats. More firmly this time. A lie, Julie knows, because Reggie had been on the couch with Alex. Nowhere near where the ball had come from. “It was my fault.”

His voice is still firm and his eyes stay on Ray’s for a second before looking down and his hands tighten into firsts before going slack and he swallows and--

He’s scared, Julie realizes. Scared, but still.

“It was my fault. So--”

“Reggie!” Her dad exclaims and he’s beaming, she can already see it, and then without a thought to whether Reggie is still solid or not, her dad is throwing her arms around Reggie as if he is a long lost friend

(Which in a way, maybe he is)

Reggie stays solid and his arms are pinned to his side and Julie sees him stiffen, sees his face frown in confusion.

“You’re here!” Ray says, still grinning. He leans back and slaps Reggie on the arm. “And solid, I see. Thank goodness. Come, come help me on this puzzle. You’ve been slacking and I swear this dark spot near the left corner is driving me crazy and-- Oh, Carlos, go get the broom and clean this up. No throwing balls in the house! Honestly, you’d think after the last time-- Reggie, wait, whatever happened with that telenovella you guys were watching, you haven’t updated me in forever.”

And then her dad is dragging Reggie away, who still looks shell-shocked, still looks like he was expecting something different, and Julie hangs back, partly to help Carlos clean up, partly to enjoy hearing Reggie slowly start to stammer out answers to her dad’s many, many questions.

*^*^*^

“Oh shoot,” her dad says an hour later, when family puzzle night is brought to an end because the three boys have abruptly vanished from existence. He looks at where Reggie had been sitting (roughly). “Well, we’ll finish next time.”

*^*^*^

What happens next, Julie calls in her head, the Period of Cautious Testing.

She sees it play out.

Reggie comes into the house, waves hi to her, but doesn’t say anything and then he goes and sort of… lurks near her dad, watching carefully and if her dad seems to be in a good mood (which he is often, to be honest), Reggie will either say hello or obviously pull out a stool to make it clear he is there and--

“Are you free?” Reggie asks. Or “Do you mind?” or “Hey, can I--?”

He says it when Ray can hear him and writes it if there is pen and paper nearby and even when there’s not, he stays tense and ready to fly if he’s not wanted, but--

“Of course!” her dad says. “Sit down.” “Come look.” “Oh, Reggie, check this out--”

And Reggie stares and listens and there’s this smile he has, not his usual huge grin, but a smaller softer sort of wonderful-filled smile and he pays attention to her dad as if he might be quizzed on the information later, still starts out not talking as much but--

“Okay, well tell me about,” her dad says. “Oh, do you think--?” And “Wait, I want to hear what it was like to--”

*^*^*^

“Your dad is really nice,” Reggie tells her one day. He says it right as they are starting rehearsal and doesn’t really look at her when he says it, looks more somewhere over her left shoulder and he is basically running away towards his mic stand but still…

It makes her smile.

*^*^*^

“Come play with me,” Carlos asks her, throwing his ball in the air.

“Where’s dad?” Julie responds. This is usually her dad’s territory. Whatever talents she had in singing and music and sort of dancing do not translate into sports.

“With Reggie,” Carlos says, throwing the ball up, tilting his head up to watch as it comes down and catches it. “They are talking about… I don’t know. Something. He said he’d be out but you know how they get.”

Julie does. And it doesn’t bother her but..

“Are you mad?” She asks, just to be certain. Carlos had been the only son. Still is. But also… “That they are hanging out so much?” Her brother is still young. Her brother maybe doesn’t--

“No,” Carlos says. “Not like I want to learn about cameras at all.”

Julie laughs.That’s true. And her dad sure can ramble.

“Also,” Carlos starts…. And then he is glancing at her and he is young and stupid and her ilttle brother, but when he looks up at her, he looks older and serious.

“Also, I think It’s nice. Reggie hanging out with Dad. I think he…”

He fiddles with his ball, but doesn’t throw it. “I think he probably needs that, you know?”

Julie did know, she just didn’t know that Carlos knew. And understood. And was willing to share Dad like that because he knew. She feels her face start heating up with pride.

“How did you--” she starts. Then stops. She knows how she figured it out and she had mostly relied on being able to see when Reggie was around and how he tried to stay away for so long and her conversation with Luke.

“Oh. Uh. Well, he started a stash of food in my room,” Carlos says. Julie blinks at him. “I went up there one day and he was shoving granola bars in a box in the back of my closet. That was already filled with other stuff.

“He was acting really weird. I mean, nervous and I dunno. I asked him why and he said it was always a good backup in case you couldn’t go downstairs and then I asked why I wouldn’t be able to go downstairs and I think he was embarrassed but still insisted it was safer and--”

Carlos shrugs. Flushes because he realizes he had been talking a hair too fast.

“I don’t know. It made him feel better so I kept it. And it honestly is sometimes easier than going all the way downstairs.”

“Carlos!”

“He has one in your room too!’ Carlos says, laughing. “Basket tucked under your bed, I think. I’m telling you, once you get used to access to rice krispy treats in the middle of the night…”

“Oh my god,” Julie says and they are laughing about this, because what else is there to do but…

“So it’s really okay,” Carlos says. “Plus I figure now you and me can play catch?” He turns on those big brown eyes for that last part and he is so good that Julie can barely stand it.

“Oh alright,” she makes sure to roll her eyes so he knows that she is not falling for him for a second. “Let me put my bag down.”

*^*^*^

The boys are not supposed to be on her computer (there has actually been talk of getting them their own computer to uphold this rule, but none of them really seem to have much interest in technology (besides TV) given that they can always just poof to whoever they need to talk to and force Julie to do the research for them) so it’s a surprise when Julie walks into her room and finds Reggie, glaring at the screen.

“Reggie!” she says, fully intending to yell at him. She has private things on there!

And then he looks up at her. He looks dark and serious and--

“Will you help me?” he asks. “I don’t know how-- this thing is so complicated.” And Reggie isn’t the one who will get frustrated-- that’s Alex when his anxiety gets to be too much or Luke when a song isn’t going well or even herself when having three rambunctious boys who can pop in on her literally any time gets to be a little much-- but he’s frustrated now.

“Okay,” she says, her earlier rant about privacy flying out of her head. “Okay, yes, let me help. What do you need to do?”

With the boys, it could be anything. Alex wants to watch videos of skateboarding so he can pretend he knows something about what Willie talks about, or there was the week he discovered Sense8 and then Luke really just wants to google guitars or also there was that week Julie tried to get him on music producing software and then he just wanted to read articles about how digital music was destroying the industry (like some old grandpa).

“I’m--” Reggie stops and stands. Takes a breath and blows it out. Julie waits. He looks somewhere toward the ceiling. “I’m trying to find my parents.”

Julie stills.

That is not what she was expecting.

“Oh,” she says and it’s a struggle but she keeps her voice carefully neutral. She also takes the moment to look down and see that Reggie has type “goo-gull” into the windows search bar.

He doesn’t add anything and so she sets herself to opening the real google and seeing what she can do. Contrary to popular belief, it can be a little hard to find people if they aren’t famous and have fairly common names.

“What are their names?” she asks and instead of answering, Reggie just passes her a piece of paper. It has their names on it. And what she assumes to be his old address. She senses the mood and doesn’t say anything else. At least he comes and sits next to her to see the search results pop up.

There are a lot of them.

“Don’t worry,” she says when she sees his eyes widen. “Even if I can’t do it today, I can put Flynn or-or my dad on it and I’m sure one of them can--”

“No,” Reggie says. “I don’t want-- not them.”

Julie nods and keeps scrolling. She doesn’t know what Reggie’s parents did for a living so she doesn’t know if some of these websites apply but she scrolls slowly and hopes he’ll tell her if he sees something.

After two pages, “Let’s switch to images,” she suggests. “Maybe you’ll see them.”

Reggie hesitates but then nods.

After some more silent scrolling, the silence gets to be too much -- “Why do you--?”

“There.”

Julie stops scrolling and, yes, there-- there’s something slightly familiar about that woman’s nose and the darkness of that man’s hair. She clicks to enlarge it, but it’s still a blurry picture, pulled onto google search from Facebook, if she had to guess and--

And she knows that you can’t really judge someone off of a photograph, especially not one that’s older and blurry but she…

They don’t look nice, she decides. Even though both of them are smiling. The smiles look tense and forced and they are standing a hair too far away from each other to be called close.

“That’s them,” Reggie tells her needlessly.

“Oh,” Julie says again. He doesn’t sound excited. He sounds… she doesn’t know what he sounds.

She waits, risks glancing at him to find he is still just staring. And the silence drags and then right- right as she knows she’s got to say something, anything--

“I thought it was normal,” Reggie finally says softly. “They. I thought they were normal. I mean… I thought everyone’s parents were that way.”

He’s still not looking at her. Still just staring at the screen.

“I mean… Luke fought all the time with his parents and Alex’s were just… always too religious and a bit off even before they knew and so I just assumed that everyone… you know.”

Julie did not know. Not really. Not at all.

“I knew they hated me,” he says and he finally glances over at her. He’s not crying, but his voice is tight and the nod he gives her is jerky. He looks away quickly. “For forcing them to get married. And for forcing them to stay together too, I guess, though… it wasn’t just…”

His leg is bouncing now. Jumping up and down even as his fist clenches and presses on top of it.

“It’s not even just that though,” and his voice rises now, almost desperate. “They hated me. They said I was loud and annoying and stupid and I… I thought that was normal. I thought they were right.”

He shoots up now, solid enough that her little table gets pushed back when his shin hits against it, but he doesn’t seem to notice and he swipes at his eyes, but he’s not crying. Just red and Julie’s almost crying, she realizes, but she’s also tense and her stomach hurts and she doesn’t know what to do.

“They were my parents and they hated me and I thought-- I thought that was normal. That everyone would always hate--” He cuts off and Julie opens her mouth again but she doesn’t know what to say. The boys… the boys are young and happy and they are all an open book, even when they try not to be, but now… Now Reggie clenches his jaw and stops himself. The boys never stop themselves.

“It wasn’t right though,” Reggie says and he’s angry now. More angry than Julie’s seen anyone. “It wasn’t fair. What they did. Making me feel… yelling at me all the time and-and sending me to bed without dinner so often that I- I fucking thought everyone snuck snacks into their room and shoving me around and even when they were happy, I just knew it could turn so quickly, that even one mistake could just ruin everything and I- I-”

He cuts off, breathing hard.

“Reggie--” Julie starts. She stands but he takes a step away from her so she stills.

“It wasn’t fair,” he says and he’s quieter now but it doesn’t feel calmer. He meets her eyes and his are wet. “I just don’t get how they could-- why they--”

“It wasn’t fair,” Julie agrees and this time when she comes closer, he doesn’t move. So she gets to put a hand on his shoulder and breaths a small sigh of relief that he is solid right now.

“I had to die, Jules,” he says, looking at her again finally. And this is… being dead is something the boys rarely acknowledge in a real way. It’s usually a joke or an offhand comment or their comeback for why they shouldn’t have to help her with calculus. It’s not this. Soft and serious and then followed by a dark chuckle. “I literally had to fucking die to figure out that they were bad parents. And I bet-- I bet they were glad.”

Julie opens her mouth to say that of course they weren’t, that any parent would be heartbroken, that he can’t know that but--

But she doesn’t know them. She doesn’t know if that is true.

“Well,” she starts but Reggie backs away and cuts her off.

“I have to go,” he announces. And then he glances at her and realizes she’s crying and maybe realizes what just happened because he runs his hand through his hair and guilt enters his eyes but “Sorry,” he says. “Sorry about-- You weren’t supposed to-- I gotta go.”

“Wait!” Julie tries, but he’s already gone.

*^*^*^

Her first instinct is to run and get Luke and Alex, to tell them to poof to all the most likely spots for Reggie to be, to tell them everything that had happened and then maybe run and tell her dad too for good measure and to probably cry a little more but she--

She doesn’t.

She doesn’t know what stops her or why instead of yelling and rushing down the stairs, she takes a breath and falls back onto her couch, but… that’s what she does.

She falls back and stares at the picture she’d found a little longer and--

I hate you, she thinks. You didn’t deserve him.

And then she closes the tab without saving it.

And she doesn’t tell anybody.

*^*^*^

Reggie is a little late to rehearsal that day, but not enough to attract much notice.

He comes in cautious though. Julie sees it, since she knows to look for it.

He poofs up outside the garage and then slowly walks in and he’s waiting, she sees, for someone to say something or act weird or for them to all stop talking at once in an obvious display of “we were just talking about your breakdown earlier.” He’s tense and cautious and--

“Dude, awesome,” Luke says in greeting, waving a hand at him. “You’re here. We can get started. I think I have a killer idea for a harmony echo thing in the chorus of--”

Reggie looks suspicious for a beat longer, eyes flicking between Julie and Luke and then Alex, but Alex is too busy trying out a new spin move with his drumsticks to really be paying much attention and Luke is still droning on about his latest idea and Julie just gives him a smile. And a nod. And hopes that her eyes convey she didn’t actually say anything.

She knows it was the right call when the tension leaves Reggie’s shoulders.

Reggie gives her a smile and a nod and then they all do what they do best.

They play.

*^*^*^

That night, Julie spots her dad alone (actually alone) on the couch, fiddling with something on his laptop, and when they were playing music together, she didn’t think about it but now it all comes rushing back.

The hurt and the anger in his voice and the fact that she didn’t know what to say or do and it was the right call, not to tell anyone Reggie’s private business, she thinks, but she suddenly feels very sad again and the only thing for it is to plop down next to her dad and curl into his side.

He hums in greeting and keeps his eyes on his screen and she just enjoys it. His warmth and smell and marvels in the fact that he is always there. That she can always do this. That she has a dad who will always let her sit with him and who has to be coached into being angry and just loves her so damn much.

“Honey?” he says and he’s closing the laptop to twist and look at her. There is concern in his eyes. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and trying to ignore the heat behind her eyes that tells her she might cry. “Nothing’s wrong. I just-- It’s been a long day.”

“Too much practice?” he says.

“No, not that. Just… you know. One of those days.”

“Oh okay,” he says and then he’s lifting his arm so he can wrap it around her and squeeze her more firmly into his side. “Okay.”

They sit for a long moment, just breathing and Reggie should do this, she thinks, just sit and be calm and be held and she hopes one day, he does. That he is solid enough and comfortable enough and maybe he can’t tuck all that way into her dad’s side like she can but he should still… he should still try. One day.

She knows her dad would let him.

“Thank you,” she says. “For being such a good dad.”

Her dad’s soft laugh answers her. “Well, you know that’s my job.”

“Yeah, but… also for everything else too. With the band and the music program and for-for being so good to Re-- the boys. All the boys.”

She doesn’t know if he hears the name she almost said, but he tilts his head as if he knows. He probably does somehow.

“They’re great kids,” is what he says instead.

“Still,” she insists. “I know it’s a lot. But they- he- just thank you.”

He looks at her for a long moment and finally nods.

“Anytime.”

*^*^*^

“Thanks,” Reggie says, the next day, drifting over to where she is resting on the couch while Alex and Luke get into a semi-argument, semi-productive debate on a certain rhythm. “For not saying anything to the guys.”

“No problem,” she says. “But if you want to talk more or--”

“No, no,” he says, waving a hand as if that is going to make her forget the entire thing. “It’s not a big deal. It’s--”

“Reggie.” She says it firmly. She says it and then waits until he actually looks at her. “It is a big deal. Your parents were-- They were wrong and mean and fucking horrible and if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s your right and I won’t say anything. But it is a big deal. Your feelings are a big deal. You are a big deal. So talk to me or to my dad or to no one but don’t tell me it’s not a big deal.”

Reggie blinks at her and Julie flushes. But doesn’t back down. Keeps glaring at him.

“Uh. Okay,” Reggie says. “I- I will. Or I won’t. Tell you that.”

“Good,” Julie says, nodding once. And then Alex and Luke turn back to them and it seems they have compromised (Or maybe Alex won and Luke is just saying they compromised) and they’re back to it.

*^*^*^

As far as Julie knows, he doesn’t talk about it. At least, not with her.

But, gradually, he stops hesitating before announcing himself to her dad and he starts buzzing with the same kind of energy that he does in the garage in the house and, then later, she goes downstairs for a late night snack and Carlos is there too, half-heartedly complaining that his stash has run out and he had grown accustomed to a certain style of living and--

“Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray Ray RayRay,” Reggie says, running into the house, tripping over his own feet somehow and skidding into the counter, knocking over the fruit bowl in the process. Her dad idly straightens it with one hand, the other reaching out to collect the apples and oranges that had rolled everywhere but Reggie grabs it and pulls. “You gotta see this, there’s a bird and the light-- bring your camera!”

“A bird?” her dad says, and he sounds a bit doubtful but he is already grabbing his camera.

“Huge bird,” Reggie says, waving his hands as if to indicate. “Biggest bird ever. I think it’s a condor!”

“A condor! A California condor??” her dad’s eyes go huge and then he’s throwing one camera at Reggie and grabbing another out of a drawer and there are apples and oranges everywhere and her dad almost brains himself stepping on one and flying forward but Reggie catches him and suddenly, Julie is in the kitchen by herself, surrounded by fruit, staring at a pancake her dad was supposed to flip.

She rolls her eyes and smiles to herself and grabs the spatula.

She doesn’t think they’re coming back any time soon.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp fanfiction #my fic #reggie #ray molina #julie molina #fanfiction #bullet point fic #but it is 7k #also yes i just pulled the title from finally free #it seemed to fit

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himooonlight · 4 years

Text

who are you? pt. 2 (reggie x reader)

pairing: reggie x reader

word count: 4.8k

plot: you dream about reggie constantly and when you see him perfoming with julie, you decide to ask her about him

warnings: reggie is too cute. that's the warning

A/N: english is not my first language and this is my first fanfic, so please, be nice ok? enjoy :)

you can read part 1 here

- What? How can you know that? - Julie asks, sounding surprised. - No, Luke, I don't know her.

Reggie's gaze is fixed on me. I feel chills rising from my belly to the tips of my ears so I shake my shoulders, trying to get rid of the sensation.

- Alex, don't do that. - Reggie says, looking in my direction. Confused, I turn around looking for Alex, but there is nobody there.

It's amazing how realistic the hologram is. It's almost like I can see the colors of Reggie's eyes clearly, even his pores and freckles. I search for a projector and find nothing, so I decide it's time to stop ignoring my questions. Reggie has already confirmed that he is who I imagined, so it's Julie's turn to clarify what kind of madness is going on.

The acting classes haven't prepared me at all for the moment that I find myself questioning my own sanity.

- Are Alex and Luke part of the band? - I ask to no one in particular. I accept responses from Julie or Reggie. Maybe I prefer Julie, since Reginald is a synonym for craziness in my mind. - Reggie never told me their names.

- Can't you see them?

- No. Are they here too? Why can't I see their hologram as well?

Reggie gives a short sarcastic laugh, something I've never seen him do. Be ironic. That was not as attractive as his easy-going personality, his funny and flirtatious ways and his warm smile. It seemed to clash with his version of my dreams and I wondered if maybe it was all a lie. It could be that I had created that Reggie completely and as much as the happiness I felt for him was not a lie, it could be that he, as the person I loved, did not exist. Still, I wanted to be close to him and be able to love him from up close.

- We are not holograms and I thought you already knew that. - He replied. - No, Alex, it's okay. I can't explain, but I just know she is important. It's natural, just like you can tell when it's time to go to the bathroom, you know?

I look at Julie waiting for her to say something, mainly because I prefer not to think about Reggie's comparison of his feelings with an internal sphincter alerting his brain about his physiological needs.

Julie doesn't seem convinced, but she looks defeated.

- I think we have a lot to explain, but we need time. Can you meet us after class? In the chemistry lab? It's my last class of the day. - She says, looking tired and conflicted. I really don’t want to make her feel that way, but I am already too irritated at the way I handled things before. I'm almost mad at my own personality.

I am basically a shy person. However, there's a lot of different personas within me that can appear depending on who's around me or where I am. The original Y/N, the person I am independently of the environment or how I am with, is irrationally careful. I prefer to observe people, not bother anyone, not speak too loudly if it is not necessary. That's why I am not offended that Julie doesn't know me; because I am unapologetic for my personality - I am not ashamed of not wanting everyone to know my name, no matter how much I like the art that puts me in the spotlight.

Maybe art is different for girls like me and Carrie Wilson, for example. She performs for other people while I do it for myself, to help and express myself. I'm still not sure what kind of person Julie is, possibly a mix of both of us.

- I think I'll spend the rest of the day with... what's your name again? - Reggie says, looking a little more like the version of my dreams.

I was excited before, but now I am just questioning my own decisions. I seemed to have complicated Julie's life and Reggie didn't seem so happy to meet me. The idea that I had created for that moment was certainly better in my head than in real life, because in my imagination Reginald would have explanations for me and would also fall in love easily. I blame it on my overthinking skills and stupid research, because according to what I had read, it was a case of "connection beyond life", not just a series of coincidences and feelings nurtured with patience. Apparently, we were soulmates.

Or it could be that I saw his band somewhere before and created the whole story in my mind. Detailed and with too many specific facts, but it's still a possibility.

For the first time, I don't prefer to believe in the rational explanation. Sometimes it just takes a little bit of madness and magic for things to sound and be better.

- My name is Y/N L/N. - I answer. - But in a dream you called me…

- L/N! - A shout coming from the door interrupts me. Nick is standing there, looking weird. His dark jeans and long black jacket don't seem to match the boy who usually greets me with an excited and happy smile. It's something in his posture and in the way his eyes seem to call for help. He looks uncomfortable. - I waited for you in the cafeteria to help me with math, but you didn't show up.

He doesn't say anything about Reggie, so I assume he disappeared again. I don't know what Julie's trick is, but I don't turn around to check so I don't look crazy.

Nick's features soften unnaturally. He seems to be practicing some theatrical exercise, considering that his mouth forms and deforms a smile every second, imitating a broken doll. His eyes are on Julie, as if expecting a reaction from her and I wonder if he's using me to try to make her jealous. Which clearly wouldn't do any good. People don't even associate my name with his; everyone knows that I am only his tutor. And to me he is almost like a distant younger cousin.

- Sorry, Julie was helping me with a song. - I lie, smiling weakly at him and adjusting my backpack. I don't like to lie because I'm bad at it, but we're not close enough for me to feel bad or anything. The actress persona helps at times like this. - But now I have to go to my next class. Thanks for the help, Julie. Tomorrow at lunch I'll help you, Nick. I'm really sorry, I completely forgot about it.

I nod at her and widen my eyes when I see Reggie standing beside me. I turn completely to Nick and he doesn't show any reaction, so I just keep walking outside with Reggie by my side, looking at me with a funny look on his face. He walks sideways and I can't help but smile at the feeling of him so close to me.

In order not to look crazy, I search my pockets for earphones and grab a script from the last play we worked on. I pretend to train lines while talking to him.

- Nobody can see you. This is too weird. Shouldn't you be a hologram? - I ask, looking ahead and speaking quietly. There aren't many students in the hallways yet because there are still a few minutes before class starts, but I need to be discreet anyway. - Why can I see you then?

In a wider step, he stops in front of me and starts walking backwards. I can look him in the eyes while I feel butterflies in my stomach. With his attention on me, I seem to have an entire zoo inside my stomach wanting to express how I feel about him.

- I'm not a hologram. - He answers. - Do you know what happens to people when they die?

- They turn to dust? - I try. Reggie ponders, but nods no. - They turn into stars?

He laughs. In a precious way that seems to heal any pain I may feel.

He laughs. And time seems to stop.

Seeing his smile and his happiness in front of me makes me want to physically express what I feel, so before I can think about it, my arms reach up to hug him. In slowmotion, I see Reggie close his eyes and smile, as if waiting for my arms to wrap around him, as if he also wants a physical confirmation of affection. His cute dimples appear and I imagine that I, standing alone in the hall, look like an idiot.

My arms go through him, so I pretend I'm stretching.

- I wish I could feel you. - He speaks. His tone breaks my heart even when I thought it was not possible to feel more disappointmented.

I don't know what to say to him, so I don't say anything. It was natural in my dreams to walk hand in hand, touch his nose with mine, hug him and feel the warmth emanating from his body. Both dreams, as a man and in the recent ones as myself: I always knew that Reginald was there. As much as dreams were not part of physical reality, I seemed to really feel him, so I made an effort to demonstrate how happy he made me feel. And he also didn't hold back, always expressing with his body that he was there; either touching my hair, playing with my fingers, bumping his shoulders against mine, anything. I didn't understand how frustrating it could be to not be able to touch him until this moment. When this simple verb is all I desire.

To touch him.

But he is dead.

I'm in love with a ghost that lived in my dreams.

The two of us, defeated and without exchanging another word, get to the auditorium quickly. The door is open, but there is no one inside. We enter in silence and sit in the back. The comfortable black chairs and the maroon carpet are about to witness my madness when he sits beside me and puts his hand on mine. He stares at his fingers with intensity, making a vein in his neck pop a little. I can't help looking at him without reservations, mentally writing down his details. The way his face is triangular, his pink cheeks and his adorable asymmetrical nose. His lips are slightly parted and his hair looks so soft and inviting to the touch. I only look away from his face when I feel a light weight on my skin.

He is touching my hand in a timid and almost imperceptible way. Shocked, I look at the position of our fingers, feeling hope run through my body. The intoxicating and numbing hope.

Hope that he can be real.

- I can hold a few things when I focus. - Reggie doesn't look able to focus on more than one thing at the same time though. - And with you I have difficulty focusing, to be honest.

With that comment, I can't help but smile. My shock is exchanged with happiness to know that I'm not feeling all these beautiful feelings alone. That I'm not by myself, trying to understand the bad ones either.

- Are you a ghost, Reggie? - The question rolls off my tongue with difficulty. It doesn't sound like a question; it's more of a statement. He confirms my assumption and I can taste the bad flavor that hope can give. It's a taste of disappointment, sadness, resentment. - And I am your unfinished business, hum? What does that mean?

- I'm not sure what I need to do, but I know it involves you. At least I think so. And even if you don't feel the same way, you can see me, but not Alex and Luke. Until now, I thought we had unfinished business together, but maybe each one of us has separate things that we need to take care of. - His touch disappears and I miss him. I can't feel him anymore, but the weight of his words certainly make up for it. - We need to find out what's our deal.

"Our deal". So romantic.

Before I can answer, the teacher arrives with a group of students behind him. I wave at them and get up, sitting in the third row. I like to be close, but not too close. That way I have some space to ponder about wanting to participate or just keep watching.

- Y/N. - Reggie calls. I can't say anything with so many people around, so I decide to ignore him. Mr. Ortega, the teacher, looks excited. We will start discussing the characters for the next play and he will probably comment on contributions to the story. - L/N. Darling. Cutie. - I still don't answer, but I can't help smiling. Listening to those things really feels like he's the Reggie from my dreams. - Pumpkin. Precious little nugget.

My attention remains focused on the teacher, who decides to sit on the edge of the stage. He pushes himself up with his arms and turns his torso to land correctly where he wants to. It's amazing how most of the theater people seem to express themselves naturally, as if they can float. Most of my classmates also look like this, as if they don't overthink anything. What they wear, how they speak, their hand movements; everything is fluid. It's intriguing how different people can be.

I assume I can be wrong too. Maybe the teacher thought long before he sitted there, maybe he thought about it over lunch. Maybe my classmates are nervous to answer simple questions, maybe even Carrie has her doubts about herself. People are also intriguing because you can never tell what's on their mind, how they truly feel, what's honest and what's just mean lies.

Most days I'm fine not knowing though.

- If you don't answer me, I'll be mean. - The teacher starts talking about our choice between a musical or an immersive play (that he sounds very excited about). - You leave me no choice, Y/N. Hey, bowl of cereal that's been sitting out for like an hour. Tiny wet socks.

He needs to stop before I start laughing while the teacher talks about his love for immersive theater. I look in his direction as if begging for him to stop, but Reggie sees it as an incentive.

I couldn't have created his personality. Not in my dreams nor in real life. Reggie is interesting, quirky and too adorable for me to have invented him. My imagination is not so fertile as to be able to come up with a person as engaging as him. But it is no comfort to know that he is a ghost, that there is no chance that my dreams could come true.

I was basically stuck on a roller coaster that I didn't want to go on. It was like I was at the top, happy to see the whole park and sad to know that I was going to fall soon. Ruthlessly, with the possibility of getting sick on the way, sure. Still there was no possibility of leaving or regretting being there. There was just the option of going forward knowing I couldn't be the same as I was before I saw the park from up there.

- Rainy day. - He continues. I take a pen out of my backpack and flip the script over, writing a "stop it" in block letters. - Do you need to pay attention in this class?

I look at the teacher, who continues to talk excitedly about our options for the play, and write "you've got 5 minutes", to which he responds by jumping in his seat. I keep looking ahead, but pay attention to what he says, leaving my palm facing up. He sees it as an invitation and leaves his hand over mine, without touching it. Reggie begins to tell a story of when he went to a kennel and saw a puppy named Y/N and wanted to adopt the little animal, but he found out in the worst way that he was allergic. He said he didn't care. Then he told me that he liked my perfume and that it reminded him of spring. And that he missed being alive. I write a "I can't smell you; what do you smell like?", which he reads quickly. He takes his wrist up to his nose and smells it.

- I think I smell like autumn. - He shrugs. - I'll let you pay attention now. See you with Julie later, okay? Have a good rest of the day.

Reggie leans over, like he's going to kiss me on the cheek. He did that in my dreams too many times, whenever he said hi or goodbye. It had started with a conversation about different cultures and ended with a promise to travel together - just words thrown in the wind. I remember waking up sad to know it would never happen. With him so close now, I can only hold my breath and hope he can kiss me.

- Sorry. - He says, walking away before we can find out how his lips would feel on my skin in real life. He disappears before I can say goodbye.

I am spring, he is autumn. Opposite seasons that will never exist at the same time in the same place. Both important, intense and simply different; both loved. It's still very bittersweet that such beautiful feelings can't blossom together; because when I bloom, he dies, just like autumn leaves.

The rest of the class is focused on the choice of the play and I try my best to pay attention, but it's difficult to think of anything other than Reginald. I can only focus on something else when I am in the last class of the day and Nick sits next to me. It's math and I assume he's going to ask for help with his homework, but he starts the conversation questioning my relationship with Julie. His tone is not subtle curiosity, but more like someone who is going to ask for a favor.

- I really just wanted to ask something about a song that I thought would be good for our next play. - I try to sound chill about it, but the way Nick looks at me makes me anxious. He's different, acting like he's playing a part I don't know about. I don't know much about him to bet on it, but I believe I am good enough at reading people to know that there is something strange about him today. - But is there anything I can help you with? I thought you were going to see her on Saturday. You did go to her house, right?

He smiles at me and a shiver runs down my spine.

- Yes, I went to her house. I just wanted to know if you guys talked about me.

I answer a simple "no" and let my brain interpret his words and actions. His posture is too upright and there is an air of superiority in the way he moves. His body language looks different. He seems to feel like he is better than everyone and I never took Nick as pretentious.

He starts to draw something that I don't really identify at first, but I soon recognize the tarot card number one.

The Magician.

The man in his drawing has one arm up and the other is pointing down, representing the magician's connection between the spiritual realms and the material realms. I can only tell this is the Magician card because of the four elements Nick draws on the paper: a cup, a pentacle, a sword and a wand. It symbolizes the four elements water, earth, air and fire, meaning that the magician has it all.

Nick takes his time to draw the flowers and foliage around the magician, which makes me think that he believes that this person or feeling is very creative and clever. At least, that's the original meaning for the card. The boy also draws the infinite symbol above the head and when I think he's about to finish the drawing with the snake around the magician's waist, he stops.

It's incomplete.

The infinity symbol and the snake mean access to unlimited potential. Maybe Nick's magician doesn't feel so powerful. Maybe there's something holding him back.

- Sneaky, huh?

His voice is firm and low. He doesn't sound mad or surprised that I was in fact watching him. He sounds superior, like he is trying to tease me.

- Sorry.

I can't focus on the rest of the class because it seems that as much as Nick's head is turned forward, towards where the teacher is, it seems like he's paying attention to every move I make. How I hold the pen, how I breathe, how I write. It's nerve wracking.

When the class is over and Nick leaves, I think about his drawing and notice a detail that I hadn't paid attention to before. Nick's quick fingers painting the magician's robe.

It's a black robe. Nick's magician has a black robe.

It's never a black essentially, because it's supposed to be white, alluding to purity.

- Ready to go? - Reggie's head appears on the door. I pack the rest of my things and say goodbye to the teacher. She smiles at me, not knowing I'm about to speak to the dead.

We really never know what's going on in someone's life.

I take out my phone and put it close to my ear so I can "talk" to Reggie. My classroom is in the same corridor as the chemistry lab, but at opposite extremes. Because it's a big school, we have about 5 minutes to get there, especially with the slow pace he and I take. The boy smiles and does the same as before, walking backwards in front of me, so that we can talk looking at each other. I like that he also likes to look at me.

- Tell me some of your stories. - He asks.

Testing the waters, I tell him the same story I told a few days ago, in my dreams.

- My mom once ordered two pizzas from different places because she had coupons. The two delivery guys arrived at our door together and one of them started singing "why can't we be friends" in a very funny way, but the other didn't like it very much. In the end I'm sure they exchanged numbers. Too much tension in the air, you know?

- I can only imagine their faces. - Reggie replies. - But that's very smart of your mom. She sounds nice.

- She is very cool. My dad is very funny and my older sister is… well, older. She is grumpy most of the time, but she has a good heart. Do you miss your family?

I would miss mine for sure. I only have my mother, my father and my sister; the rest of the family decided not to accept my sister's girlfriend, which made the four of us form our own independent clan. No aunt, no grandfather, no cousin. Nobody else; we could only trust ourselves. As much as holidays like Christmas could make us smile fakely and reduce our lifespan a little with boring conversations, at the end of the day it is the four of us against the world. A cruel world that did not accept my sister for who she loved, which was stupid.

- Yeah, a little. My parents didn't love each other anymore, but they were still my parents, right? It doesn't matter that they were a couple first.

- And they will never stop being your parents. They can split, but even now, they're still your parents, Reggie. - He smiles sadly at me. - Don't you wanna see them?

We stop for a while in the middle of the hallway. There aren't many students because most of them have already headed to the exit. I put my phone back in my pocket so I can extend my hand to him. Every contact needs to come from him, because no matter how much I focus, I can't meet him halfway. He has to go all the way by himself. He reads my intentions quickly and imitates me, holding his palm up. I can feel the pressure of his hand against mine and his timid warmth. His thumb gets between my thumb and pointing finger, almost intertwining our hands. His pinky is almost circling mine in a half hug. I stare at his eyes with love and adoration, hoping I'm interpreting right and he is indeed doing the same.

He must be focusing a lot for this to happen.

- Would you help me find them? - He asks.

Reggie doesn't know, but with his hands on mine I'd say yes to anything and everything.

- Of course! We'll find them.

He starts walking again and I quickly put my hand down.

- Thank you. But now, tell me: - His smile makes me smile too. I'm glad this version of him is very happy all the time. - did it hurt?

- Let me guess. When I fell from heaven?

- No.

- What?

- Did it hurt when you fell for me?

I roll my eyes and walk faster, passing him to get to the classroom before I can say that yes, it hurted. A lot. Falling for him was oh so sweet, but also hurtful.

Loving him made me realize that distraction and destruction sound awfully alike and sometimes you don't understand which one it is. Distraction, destruction; both, none.

What started as a way to feel more excited about life and its possibilities turned into something more, something bigger that I couldn't explain. In the beginning the dreams were entertaining, interesting. Just emotions not really related to me as a person. It was more about sensations, experiences. But soon enough I was thinking about him when I got up too, not just before going to sleep.

- Hey, Y/N. - Julie says as soon as I see her exiting the classroom. She's with Flynn, who probably knows everything by now. She smiles and waves at me. I wave back and Reggie does too, like the fool he is. - Do you want to go to my house? You can stay for dinner too, if you want.

- I'll check with my sister. If I know her at all, she'll take me to your house and check with your dad if he's fine with everything. Is it ok?

- Sure! - Julie answers. - Is she going to pick you up here?

- Yeah. She'll be here any minute actually. You can text me your address and I'll meet you there.

She hands me her phone and I add my number saved under "Y/N (who's very sorry about everything)". They wave goodbye while Reggie stays by my side.

- I'll see you in a bit, right?

He sounds unsure and I wonder if anyone would ever be stupid enough to leave him. His puppy eyes are too much for me to handle, so I start walking to the parking lot, where my sister usually waits for me. He follows me.

- Of course. Even if my sister says no, I will text Julie and we will figure something out. - That would be the moment that I would give his hand a squeeze, just to make sure he knows I mean it. - Don't worry, okay?

- I'm not worried. I have this feeling I'll always find you, so it's alright. - Before disappearing, he winks at me. - See you later, alligator.

I'm still smiling when I spot Daisy's car and get in. My sister looks at me with her eyes half closed, silently questioning what happened for me to be in such a good mood.

- Okay, I have boy problems. - I say. She doesn't drive, so she can still stare at me. - Big ones.

- Like "his dead body is too big to hide" or "you like him" problems?

- I like him.

- It's a shame then. I could've helped you with the other one. - She starts driving and misses the way I roll my eyes at her answer. - Why is it a problem though?

- Oh, it's simple. He doesn't exist.

- Too many fanfictions, huh?

- Something like that. - I shrug. - Can you take me to a friends house? I'd like to talk to her about my boy problems.

As we drive to Julie's house, I wonder why I'd be Reggie's unfinished business and if I'll ever be able to meet him halfway, because we do share the same feeling, even though I didn't say anything to him before.

I also feel like I would always find him.

Doesn't matter when or where, I'd always find Reggie.

#reggie x reader #reggie x y/n #reggie fanfic #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fanfic #jatp fanfic #jatp #reggie jatp #reggie #juke fanfic #julie and luke fanfic #julie molina #luke patterson #alex and willie #fanfic #fanfic reader #fluff #fanfic fluff

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westerberg · 3 years

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tagged by @officialglenntilbrook 😘💞💖❤️🥂

1. what is the first song you remember hearing? Oh man uhh... i remember my my dad playing the video for... oops i did it again I think? by britney spears and i was very obsessed with it. if i saw the video I would know but i don’t feel like doing that. hard to say if that is my earliest memory of music tho. i remember listening to the R.E.M. In Time greatest hits in the car late at night and feeling weird out of body as Man on the Moon came on. i like that story better but I have no idea when that memory is from. i also feel like i heard my mom singing along with Sarah McLaughlin or Norah Jones a lot when i was very young.

2. what is the first band you got into? hmm... i really loved Bon Jovi when I was very young but i didn’t like. have any knowledge of them or their discography I just liked slippery when wet and their greatest hits. and also thats embarrassing so i am trying to think of an out... probably the first real musical obsession i had was lana del rey when I was 14 /15 but thats also not great. just take the L buddy... i didnt actually get into music i would now consider very good until about 16.

3. do you collect any physical music? during quar i started trolling ebay and other similar sites for cheap cds and I have gotten a pretty good collection! you would be shocked the number of people who just really do not want to have their R.E.M. albums anymore. I have a few vinyls- a couple of cheap Joni records, Station to Station, the mats Dead Mans Pop boxset thing, and the R.E.M. single So. Central Rain. Oh and I have a very cool cd single of beastie boys body movin’. I also have a collection of cassettes that used to belong to my mom- she passed 5 yrs ago so they are very special to me! she had some R.E.M., U2, Eurythmics, Squeeze, Crowded House, Indigo Girls, and I recently dug up a bootlegged Tracy Chapman tape! she might have some more at her childhood home and if I find a tape of murmur i’ll like blackout. the sad thing is that now I really like all these musicians my mom apparently liked but i was not into them when she was alive so :/ figuring things out feels like archeology. was listening to In Time greatest hits the other day and was like she definitely skipped E-Bow the Letter every time it came on lol bc i did not hear this song until like last year.

4. what is your favourite piece of music memorabilia? do you know that picture of R.E.M. where they are all holding roses like they are all going to the prom together? i scored a poster of that off Ebay for the incredible deal of $50!! a deal at any price :) I don’t have much that is like legit valuable lol. But here you have to see the picture

5. what's your favourite concert you've ever been to? hmm i havent really been to any truly mindblowing concerts I don’t think. I got to see Tommy Stinson play an acoustic set at 7th street entry in 2019 which was very cool. I feel crazy saying thats my favorite but it was incredibly special.

6. if you could see one artist who is no longer alive in concert, who would it be? If you ask right now I would probably have to say Replacements with Bob Stinson. Prince would be a close one

7. have you met any musicians? almost! when i went to see tommy stinson, afterwards he was hanging in a bar next to the club and was taking selfies with people. i kept thinking about getting in line and eventually i decided to just do it. when i finally went to go look for him he was deep in a conversation with someone and I also realized i had nothing intelligent to say, so i sat and stared at him talking for a bit until i left and went back to the show.

8. what is your go to album when you're feeling sad? Tim by the mats! i think i maybe listened to this album every day my senior year of high school. it is legitimately strange how I feel as if this album just knows me very well. everyone says this about the mats but every song feels like it’s about me and my life. I think a perk of being a lower middle class Minnesotan with an alcoholic father is just really really getting the replacements. but i guess it depends on the kind of sad I am. If i’m just looking to be cheered up i might go with Lifes Rich Pageant or Green by R.E.M. because invariably by the end of Tim I will be bummed out !

9. what is your go to album when you're feeling happy? somehow this is a very hard question. Radio City by Big Star was a big one for me when i was still on campus. maybe an obvious one but rubber soul is a good being happy album

10. what is one music documentary you love? the doc Every Everything about Grant Hart from Hüsker Dü is a favorite. it’s just all interview with him and he’s a fascinating guy. I’ve never watched an interview with him where i wasn’t like woah u’re smart :0... the director of that also did a good replacements doc but at certain point with mats journalism im just like well i could’ve just read trouble boys.

11. what is one concert DVD you love? I think I only own one concert DVD, Prince’s Lovesexy show which i was very obsessed with back in high school.

12. do you prefer listening to playlists or albums? i prefer albums usually, sometimes i’m in the mood for a playlist but albums are def superior

13. do you prefer to listen to albums in order or on shuffle? in order !!!! What am i a psychopath

14. what is your favourite deep cut song by your favourite artist? Portland by the mats is a top ten song of theirs. very in character for it to be a b-side i’m not even mad

15. what is your favourite cd/cassette/vinyl you own in terms of packaging? I love the inner sleeve of my Grandpaboy cd which is just Paul Westerberg’s doodles and scribblings. sometimes when i buy stuff off of ebay it comes with notes and stuff too which is my favorite. my copy of suicaine gratifaction came with a very sweet note of how much the previous owner loved it. and my copy of mbv’s loveless has this very hard to read note which i can maybe make out half of. if you can read it please translate for me.

i love being tagged but if you do not want to answer 15 long questions do not feel pressured! i shall tag @the-replacemints @pattismithgender @myfcukingrat @willemdafoeplscallmemynumberis @little-rimbaud @milesofsmiles97 @electrofolk 🤙😜💘

#this was very fun!!!! thank yoo <3

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houseof-harry · 4 years

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What Happens in Jersey | G.D.

A/N - hey guys! this is my first time posting anything I’ve written on tumblr so pls forgive me if it’s total shit. I’m super excited to hear any feedback and if you would be interested in a second part or something!!!

Word count: 5K

Warnings: smut

Summary - Y/N is in New Jersey with her college friend for the week of New Years. She takes a particular liking to Grayson Dolan, but only plans for it to be a one time thing. But things never go as planned.

It would be safe to say you were a bit of a nomad. You had grown up in a small town and decided to go to college far away from there. Once you left, your parents wanted out too. However, you never had any interest in sitting in the middle of the mountains with them while you were on breaks, so you found yourself bouncing around from place to place, never really staying with anyone for more than a couple of weeks.

That’s how you ended up in New Jersey with your best friend from school. Jessie was kind enough to let you stay with him the last few weeks of your winter break. You were excited because after spending time with your whole family, you would finally be able to just hang out with your friends again. Or Jessie’s friends, rather.

You and Jessie were seniors this year, and you had no idea where post-graduation would take you. That’s why you’re soaking up every minute with him while you can. His friends were all super welcoming of you and have made you feel like you were meant to be there with them all the time. After hanging out with them all week, you were exciting to be spending New Year’s Eve with them, too.

“Do you know what you’re going to wear for New Year’s yet?” Jessie asks, pulling you from your train of thought.

“No, I still have to go through what I brought with me. How fancy do you guys usually go?”

“It’s pretty casual. The girls wear jeans and a cute top, nothing crazy. I’m gonna wear jeans and a t-shirt.” He shrugs, looking back down at his phone. You walk over to your bag to look for the perfect top. You were hoping that one of his friends would finally make a pass at you, so you wanted to dress the part. Not just any of his friends, though. Grayson Dolan specifically.

Grayson had been particularly nice to you since you’d come to town. You hoped you weren’t reading into it too much and that he was actually interested because if you were being honest, it had been a minute since you’d had any action. That’s all you needed. No strings, not even a second night together. Just something to end the dry spell that came along with the stress of trying to graduate college.

You pulled out a gold sequined top. It showed plenty of chest without being too scandalous and always looked good paired with the black jeans you had packed. You pulled the jeans out along with a pair of heels and got Jessie’s attention.

“Do you think this’ll look good?” You ask him, looking down at the outfit and then back up at him.

“Yeah, that top always looks good on you. Who’re you trying to impress?” He jokes, already knowing the answer. Jessie is always up to date on your romantic life (or lack of one), and could tell immediately that you had taken a liking to Grayson. He seemed to think Grayson had taken a similar liking to me, which is the whole reason you have your hopes up in the first place.

“You know why.” You roll your eyes and put the clothes on top of your bag.

“He’s gonna go crazy for you in that, don’t worry.” Jessie let out a bit of a sigh before you stood up.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Movie after before we go to bed?” You ask.

“Sure.” He responds, not looking up from his phone.

You go to the bathroom, ignoring the frown that seemed to be on his face.

***

You were finishing putting on your mascara when Jessie walks into the room.

“Ready to go?” He asks you while looking at himself in the mirror, adjusting his shirt.

“I guess so.” You finish and put your makeup away, standing up and twirling around. “How’s the finished look?”

He gives my body a once over, his eyes lingering on the shape of my body. “Good,” is all he says.

“Just good?”

“Y/N, you always look amazing, you know what I meant.” He rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, let’s go.” You say, choosing to ignore his gesture with his eyes. You walk down the stairs and outside, grabbing your jacket on the way. Ethan and Grayson are waiting outside in their car. When they see you approach, Ethan opens the window to greet you guys.

“There they are. Ready for a new year?” He asks as you approach.

“More than you know.” You smile at him and Jessie opens the back door. You climb in and slide over so he can get in too. You shiver and close your jacket more, holding it tight to your body. Grayson smiles at you guys through the rear-view mirror and that’s it. Maybe you had been reading too far into his kindness.

“Whose house are we going to again?” You ask.

“Drew’s. His parents are at their friend’s house in Rhode Island,” Jessie says. You nod, clearly not remembering which one Drew is. “The one who goes to Penn State,” he clarifies.

“Oh, right.” You smile at him.

The car falls quiet for a while, which is unusual for you and Jessie and you can only assume it’s even more odd for Ethan and Grayson, but you guess everyone is tired and needs a moment of silence before entering the hectic last couple of hours of this year.

“We’re almost there,” Ethan says as he turns into a residential area. It feels like he’s trying to calm the weird tension in the car, but you don’t know why it’s so awkward to start.

Before you can question it further, Ethan pulls up behind a bunch of other cars parked on the street and he turns the car off. You hop out on Grayson’s side and shut the door. You both wait for the other boys to walk around the side of the car before you head down the street.

“So, you’re not gonna drink?” You ask Grayson, who you had fallen into step next to.

“I haven’t decided yet. Ethan probably won’t, though, that’s why we offered to drive you and Jess in the first place.” He gives you a smile and you nod back.

“I can’t lie, after my New Year’s Eve record I probably should chill too.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe I won’t drink much tonight, either. It would be cool to remember the beginning of this year.”

Grayson laughs while rubbing his mouth with his hand. “Do you not remember the past few New Year’s?”

“Not fully, no. I’m not even a crazy drinker, but there’s something about New Year’s that makes me want tequila like it’s water. And tequila never ends well.” You shudder, thinking about all the times it’s done you wrong.

“Yeah, maybe it’s more of a champagne year for you.” He nudges you with your shoulder.

“Maybe you’re right.” You nod as you walk into the house.

***

It’s safe to say it was not just a champagne night for you. You were 5 shots in at 11 pm when you decided to cool it. Well, cool it the best you could. You weren’t trashed but you also definitely weren’t sober.

“How’s your champagne?” Grayson walks over to you while you’re sitting on the couch alone, watching everyone else interact.

“Unless champagne has started to taste like tequila, then not very good.” You laugh at your own joke, covering your mouth. He laughs as well, and you can’t tell if it’s with you or at you.

“Do you think you’ll remember tonight?” He raises his eyebrow, sipping from his own cup.

“Oh yeah, I’m about half as drunk as I was last year. I think the issue is that tequila makes me way too brave, one shot or ten” you sigh, looking at him. He looks good tonight. His long hair really suits his sharp facial features. His light facial hair makes him look a bit older than he is, but in a good way. A hot way. And his lips look pink and soft, and you could just lean up and kiss them if you really wanted to. You shake your head as if that will physically remove the thoughts from your brain.

“What?” He giggles, watching your every move.

You’re looking at him with your mouth open now. You can see the flush of his cheeks and the drowsiness of his eyes. You gasp. “Are you drunk?”

He stutters for a moment and you grab the cup from his hand, giving it a sniff.

“Is this a vodka soda?” You give it a sip, feeling the bubbles of the soda go down your throat with the bite of the vodka mixed with it. “Living on the wild side tonight, I see. Is Ethan still good?” You laugh, handing him his cup back.

“Ethan is not in the most sober state, either. And you know Jessie is already messed up. I think we might all just sleep here, if that’s okay.” His eyes scan the room before he slumps back, unable to find his brother or his friend. You lean back right next to him, your shoulders touching.

“Yeah, that’s okay. You’re gonna have to steal clothes from Drew for me to sleep in, though.” You look at his side profile, scanning his face. He really did look good tonight. You see his cheeks heat up a bit more.

“What’re you looking at?” He asks, now turning to face you, too.

“Your cheeks get really red when you’re tipsy.” You giggle, poking his cheek. His nose is almost so close you could touch it with yours.

“It’s not because of the vodka.” He says rather confidently. You raise your brow.

“Oh yeah? What is it then?”

“The pretty girl sitting next to me on the couch.” He turns to face forwards again with a bit of a smirk, sipping from his cup again. You can feel heat rushing to your face and chest. His eyes drift over to you again. “Clearly it happens to you too.” He sounds a bit victorious in his declaration, and you don’t know if it’s your brain or the tequila that tells you what to say next.

“Kiss me.” You blurt out and then quickly cover your mouth. Yeah, it was definitely the tequila who said it.

He sucks in a breath and looks at you again, his eyes dark. “It’s only 11:30, you’re gonna have to wait another half hour for that.” With that, he stands and walks back into his group of friends, leaving you shocked on the couch.

***

Everything past midnight is a blur. Not because of the extra tequila shot you took after your conversation with Grayson, but because of the kiss he gave you after the countdown. It was hot, needy, and purposeful. It didn’t take long after that for everyone to decide where they were sleeping and settle down. Most people were too drunk to even care if they slept in a bed or not. Jessie told you he would get a guest bed for you to share, but you don’t even remember where he said to go because Grayson was looking at you from across the room and everything else disappeared. You nodded at Jessie so that he’d walk away and you could finally go talk to the man whose consumed your mind all night.

“Excited for your sleepover with Jessie?” He asks sarcastically while keeping the charming smile on his face still.

You shrug. “I mean I guess. There’s a different sleepover I’d be more excited for, though.” You do your best to keep your gaze at him innocent while you bite your lip.

“Oh yeah? Which one is that?” He moves to stand next to you as if to survey the room to see who you want to be in bed with tonight.

“Oh my god you’re really gonna make me say it out loud, aren’t you?” You laugh, crossing your arms and turning to look at him again.

“Say what? I’m just an innocent man trying to help a pretty girl out.” He does his best to hide smile but fails. This is the second time he’s called you pretty tonight, and it is definitely the second time it has made you feel butterflies.

“Shut up and show me where you’re sleeping.” You nudge him with your shoulder.

“Unfortunately, I think Ethan and I are being forced to sleep on the living room couch together.” He rubs the back of his head, his confidence faltering for a second.

“Well then that’s what bathrooms are for, right?” You sound hopeful while trying not to be desperate. You don’t want to sound too needy before he’s even taken your pants off.

He smirks at you, putting his hand on the small of your back to start guiding you up the stairs. “You read my mind.” Before you know it, he’s opening the door to a large bathroom and letting you go in first.

You look at your surroundings, taking in the fancy bathroom décor that you thought was unnecessary but still nice. Grayson stood behind you, watching you look around the room. “Are we here to admire the shell soap?” He chuckles.

You turn to him. “What, you don’t think it’s cute?” You giggle, picking up one of the shells to hold between you two.

“I mean sure, but I’ve got my eye on something else in here.” He wraps one hand around your waist, turning you both to face the mirror. You can feel his bulge when you press back against him, looking into his eyes through the mirror.

“Is it the seahorse soap dispenser?” You bite your lip and put the shell pack where you grabbed it from.

“You’re really gonna make me say it out loud?” He mocks you, a humorous glint in his eyes.

You put your arms over his one on your abdomen. “I guess you didn’t make me.” You smile, turning in his grasp. You put both your hands on his shoulders while leaning back on the counter. Grayson puts his hands on your hips, taking a step closer to you. You can feel his warm breath on your face as you are forced to tilt your head up more to keep eye contact with him.

“I can still say it if you really wanna hear it.” He leans closer to you, nipping at your ear. You take in a breath, waiting for him to continue. “I’ve got my eye on the pretty little thing that I plan to fuck on this counter until she forgets what year it is.”

This instantly makes you giggle. “It works in your favor it’s a new year, I already forgot about it.”

“Now that I’ve reminded you, let’s make you forget again.” And that’s when you knew you were fucked in the best way possible. His lips dragged along your jaw to your mouth, kissing you like you were the only girl in the world. You fully wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you as he kisses you deep and hard. His hands travel down to your ass, pulling your center as close to him as possible. After he gives you a squeeze he brings one of his hands around to start unbuttoning your jeans. You pull your mouth away from his for a moment, leaving both of you breathless.

“You’re okay with this, right? You’re not too messed up right now or anything?” He asks as he rests his forehead on yours. Your hands go down his shoulders to rub his arms. A smile manages to show up on your face.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you?”

He laughs before looking back you. “More than good.” And with that he’s kissing you again.

Grayson does his best to finish unbuttoning your pants while still keeping your lips connected. Once he is successful, he breaks away from you to go down and take your heels off. He struggles a bit with the straps, making your giggle.

“It’s not as easy as it looks, huh?” You tease him, lifting your foot when he finally gets one off.

“That was fucking stupid,” he groans, already focusing on your other shoe. He manages to slip that one off quicker than the last, his hands now eagerly going into the loops of your jeans to pull them off as well.

Before you know it, he’s standing between your legs again and his lips are moving along your neck, his hands holding your hips in place. You tilt your head back to give him more room to work his lips, gripping his biceps. Grayson takes a second to breathe, his breath heating your skin up as you think about what he’s going to do to you. He takes this moment to remove your shirt over your head.

When he was met with your bare skin, his eyes popped out of his head. “Here’s to starting the new year off right,” he laughs, barely giving you a second to react to what he said before your nipple was in his mouth. You head falls back as you let out a quiet moan, gripping the back of his head. He moves one of his hands to roll your neglected nipple between his fingers, causing you to moan again but louder this time. “Gotta stay quiet, pretty girl,” he mumbles against your chest.

“Sorry, just feels good,” you breathe out, closing your eyes.

“Pull on my hair when it feels good,” he mumbles, slowly moving to his knees in between your legs. This makes you roll your head forward to watch as he takes in the wet spot covering your center. “How long have you been thinking about me?” He smirks at you.

“Are you gonna question it or are you gonna do something about it?” You giggle, securing your hand in the back of his hair, pushing him forward and closer to your core.

“You’re right, I’ll take what I can get,” he huffs out onto your inner thigh, leaving light kisses there. If he was being honest, he hadn’t gotten any in a while either. Grayson was just as eager as you to be with you like this. That’s why he didn’t waste any time swiping his tongue over your slit, still being able to taste you despite the layer of lace between you two. He lets out a guttural moan, loving the fact he was between your legs right now. He wasted no time in tapping your thighs to get you to lift yourself up enough for him to take your panties off. As the cold air hits you, your legs instantly try to shut. Grayson tisks, shaking his head and pushing you wide open, gripping your thighs tightly with his calloused hands.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, his eyes not leaving your pussy.

“We don’t have to do that whole thing if you don’t wanna,” you mumble, your cheeks heating up.

“What whole thing?” Grayson looks up at you, confused.

“You don’t have to compliment me and stuff,” you look away from him, starring at the wall.

“Hey, look at me,” he squeezes your leg, his eyes soft when you meet them again. “Everything I say, I mean. And I’m saying it because I want to, not because I think you wanna hear it,” he smiles up at you. You take a second to breathe, not expecting to hear that from him. No guy you had slept with had ever been so considerate before. Hell, none of them had ever been ready to eat you out.

You let out a flustered, “thanks,” before his focus was back on your core. He licks slowly up from your hole to your clit, making you grip his hair a bit harder already. He focuses on your clit, sucking and licking it like it’s his last meal. It takes everything in you not to moan loudly, but you manage to just breathe harder instead. Grayson moves one of his hands to your slit, his fingers running up and down while he continues to lap at your clit. It’s when he slides one of his fingers in when you let out a whine, gripping his hair so hard he can’t help but let out a groan of his own. He pumps his finger in and out slowly, making you go crazy. “More, faster, anything,” you breathe out, shifting your hips around.

Grayson removes his lips from you while continuing the movement of his finger. He looks up at you. “Feeling greedy, pretty girl?” He smirks as he stands up, removing finger and causing you to pout. It hits you how he is still completely dressed while you’re totally naked.

“Take your clothes off,” you bite your lip, ignoring his comment. Your own hand goes between your legs, rubbing over your clit gently.

Grayson’s eyes bug out while he watches your movement, before he snaps out of it and pulls his shirt off over his head. He quickly throws it down and begins to work at his pants as you start to squirm. All of a sudden, he stops, his pants around his knees. “Do you have a condom?”

“Me? No. You don’t?” You ask, your fingers slowing as reality begins to hit you.

“Are you on the pill?” He asks hopefully.

You look away for a moment, not really sure what to say. Of course you were, but you don’t know this kid. Raw dogging it on the first date isn’t really your style. Hell, this isn’t even a date.

“I’m clean,” he brings you back to reality, reading your thoughts. You lean back, deciding on what’s best to say next.

“I don’t know that for sure. And how do you know I’m clean?” You ask.

“Let’s make a deal. If we end up catching anything from each other, the person who caused it pays for whatever treatment the other needs,” he holds his hand out, ready to shake on it. You look at him like he’s crazy. “I know I’m not giving you anything, and as long as you’re as confident as me, you should be shaking my hand right about now.”

You hesitate before taking his hand in yours and shaking it twice before pulling him back between your legs. You push his underwear down to where his pants are, your jaw dropping when his dick finally comes out. You assumed he would be well endowed, but nothing like this. What if it didn’t fit?

He chuckles deeply, as if he can read your mind again. “Is that a good look of fear?”

“Definitely,” you giggle, looking up at him as you lick your hand before wrapping it around his base, pumping up and down a couple of times.

“Oh fuck,” he whines, gripping your thighs and closing his eyes for a minute. “No, no. Gonna fuck you,” he grips your wrist, taking your hand off him. Both of your hands move behind you as you lean back a bit, waiting for him to take charge again. Grayson wraps his hand around himself so that he can drag his tip up and down your slit. Before you can get used to the feeling he’s pushing in and you’re groaning. Loudly. So Grayson does what his instincts tell him to and he covers your mouth with his hand.

He leans in and whispers in your ear, “is this okay?” You nod as he bottoms out. Your eyes clamp shut as you take a second to adjust. His free hand moves to your thigh, rubbing It gently.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod again. He pulls out almost completely before slamming his hips back into you, making your eyes roll back into your head. He was stretching you out in the most delicious way, and Grayson felt it too. Your walls were hugging him so tightly, your juices dripping down onto the counter. He rests his forehead on yours, hand still clamped over your mouth as he does everything in his power not to moan. You just felt really good, he hasn’t felt this good in a long time.

His hand moves from your thigh to your clit while he continues to move in and out at a quick pace. Sweat begins to drip down his forehead, mixing with the sweat collecting on yours. You can feel his dick nudging that special spot inside you on every thrust and it’s overwhelming. You’re whining into his hand, breathing hard out of your nose. He’s still rubbing your clit at the same pace he’s fucking you and it’s the best combination. Your breathing quickens and he moves his mouth close to your ear. “You gonna cum?” You nod profusely, your toes curling as your heels dig into his ass to make sure he goes as deep as he can.

It feels like a wave of pleasure crashing over you when you finally cum. Your legs are shaking around Grayson’s waist as groans come from deep within your throat. He can feel you clenching around him, your juices continuing to flow out of you around him. He can feel it on his balls as it drips out of you and it makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. Soon he’s pulling out of you, the hand that was once covering your mouth going to his dick as his cum covers your stomach. You both sit there unmoving, just trying to catch your breaths. You rest back on your hands as you giggle a bit, finally looking at him.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks. This makes your cheeks even more red than they already were. No one had been concerned about you after you already finished sex. It was kind of nice.

“Really good,” you sigh out. “You?” You watch as he gets some tissues and he starts wiping his cum off you.

He smiles. “Really good,” he nods along as he finishes cleaning you up. When he goes to throw the tissues out, you laugh because he has to waddle due to his pants still being half on. You’re sliding off the counter when you have to hold the edges to not fall over. He turns to look at you confused. “What?”

“You never even got your pants off.”

He looks down and chuckles, pulling his pants back up, but not buttoning them. “Guess I didn’t.”

You start to pick up your clothes when you pause. You had nothing to sleep in here, and you weren’t about to sleep in the shirt and jeans you came in. Jessie would probably be down to give you his shirt, but he was also probably asleep.

“Here,” he hands his shirt to you. You look up at him for a second before you reach for the shirt.

“Thanks,” you smile at him, putting your clothes back down and slipping the shirt over your head. It barely hit the top of your thighs, but it’s better than walking around totally naked. You slip your panties on under the shirt. Grayson stands there a bit awkwardly, watching you get dressed. You grab your shirt and hand it out to him with a smirk on your face. “Wanna sleep in this?”

Grayson laughs and shakes his head. “Something tells me that would be uncomfortable,” he eyes the sequins, shivering while imagining them against his skin.

You giggle and nod, gathering your jeans and shoes into your hands. “You’re right, it’s not.”

You bite your lip, unsure if you should just say goodbye and dip or what. Grayson interrupts these thoughts when he steps up to you, grabbing your chin and kissing you one more time before he says, “I should probably head to bed.”

You nod in agreement. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

“You were…this was…I enjoyed that,” he laughs. You smile at him as he walks out. You look out the door to make sure no one is there before you start opening every door to find where Jessie is. You slide into the bed as quietly as possible and fall right asleep.

***

Ethan and Grayson had left by the time you got up. One of Jessie’s other friends drove you guys home once you were ready to leave. Life went on as normal after that.

You and Jessie went back to school. Every semester feels like a nice fresh start, even with the sadness knowing it was your last. You and your friends at school were making every minute of it. Which is why you were disappointed when you were feeling under the weather a couple of weeks into it. You woke up every morning feeling fatigued and nauseous. You assumed it was the school work getting to you. Four years and you’d think you’d be better equipped to deal with the stress.

However, when you started throwing up every morning, you panicked. You throw up once in a blue moon. You have a stomach of steel. When that lasted for an entire week, you decided to go to the clinic. They ask all the usual questions, including if you think you’re pregnant. You tell them there’s a minimal chance but they decide to test you anyway just to be sure.

When the doctor walks back in, they have a smile on their face. “Your pregnancy test came back positive.”

Suddenly you felt nauseous again, but not like all the previous mornings. How could you be pregnant? He pulled out, you’re on birth control. And that’s when you remember. You didn’t take it a for a couple days after New Year’s Eve because you had run out of your current pack and your next pack was at school. You hadn’t noticed your missed period because your birth control had made it almost non-existent to start.

The doctor continues to speak but you only hear the blood rushing through your ears as pure panic sets in. You don’t even have Grayson’s number. He’s a fucking LA YouTuber, he wasn’t even on the same coast as you. You weren’t even friends.

As soon as you get out of the doctor, you call Jessie.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up?”

You’re blinking back the tears as you walk to your car. “I need to tell you something.”

***

Read part 2 here!

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rayearthdudette · 3 years

Text

Hmmm.. This bit of writing has been bugging me constantly in the background of my thoughts. It doesn't really fit in any of my stories, but it's fun. So. I guess I'll spit it into the void for y'all?

Premise: A Nyx from a much happier timeline and is married to a younger Titus Drautos gets yote into FFXV canon because of Reasons.

*~°~*~°~*~°~*

"Alright, there is no doubt you're from another... universe, as I am looking at two separate Ulrics," His Majesty looks genuinely gobsmacked as royal dignity will allow, working his jaw around the words as much as his brain is the entire situation.

The Nyx Ulric that had been, for lack of a better term, spat out of the Crystal smiles sheepishly.

There is a thankful good many physical differences between the two, allowing everyone in attendance of the hastily called meeting to tell them apart at a glance.

Ulric, their Ulric, has been giving his counterpart increasingly worrying looks as the man had recounted the differences of their worlds. The worst of which is the counterpart's mention of his living sibling, Regis is only partially aware of Sir Ulric's personal history, but the loss of his sibling as a driving factor is one of the few things he did know, and his heart goes out to his glaive.

Unfortunately, there is nothing he can say to comfort the man and he keeps any words that build up behind his teeth. Sir Ulric would not appreciate them, not at this time.

"I suppose we might as well set you up in one of the citadel guest suites while a solution for this phenomenon is sought out."

The other-no he had asked to be called by his first name to help distinguish the two, no matter how strange addressing one of his glaives so personally feels-Nyx blinks.

"I.. I guess that will be alright. Makes sense, especially since.. Well," he gestures a little awkwardly and Regis marvels a little at how much more carefree this version is, how easier it is for the man to smile widely and studiously pushes away the pang of guilt.

"Would you want my help with-"

"No, no thank you. It would be best to have knowledge of your existence kept as under wraps as possible and-" Regis glances at his still tense Shield and Marshall,"-a guard will be assigned. I hope you understand it isn't out of ill will towards you, but needs must."

Again, Nyx simply smiles and is calmly accepting," Of course, of course my only request is something to help me from going stir crazy from inactivity."

And that is another thing about Nyx, he's far more formal than any of them expected, but was squirrely about answering pointed questions on that front, prompting Clarus, Cor and, admittedly Regis himself, to keep up a tense wariness. The man didn't necessarily hide, but managed each time to slide around the questions by answering a different one or throwing in information of his world to distract.

Curious.

"Drautos, who do we have available for guard detail?" Regis turns to address his Captain that had chosen to stand at the back of the room, the wound on his thigh still too aggravated for a long period of sitting.

Nyx stills, eyes blown wide, and whips around, "Drautos? As in Titus Drautos?!"

Captain Drautos limps forward a bit, unimpressed, "Yes. I had assumed you would have my counterpart in your world as well, even if you hadn't mentioned me explicitly."

Nyx doesn't answer, open mouth staring at the Captain.

Clarus clears his throat when the silence grows awkwardly long and Nyx startles, face turning crimson.

"How old are you?" He blurts out suddenly.

Drautos' eyes narrow, expression now disapproving,"Forty-five. Why does that matter?"

Impossibly, Nyx turns redder, "Holyshityou'rehot! I mean-that is-" Nyx makes a strangled dying noise and drops his face into his hands.

Regis has never seen Drautos look so shocked, eyebrows raised so high they almost disappear, his Captain's jaw working as the man tries to find words to respond.

Sir Ulric is staring at Nyx, flabbergasted.

"Ok, I know that sounded kinda bad and weird, but-" Nyx makes eye contact with Drautos, "-let me explain. First things first, I'm married to your counterpart," both Ulric and Clarus squeak in surprise, Cor falls under a suspicious coughing fit and Regis freezes," and two, he's only twenty-nine. So, uh, seeing you is like getting a sneak peek of my husband in a decade and a half," Nyx maintains eye contact despite his obvious embarrassment, "Which is fantastic because.. Wow. Just. Wow. If my Titus ages like you, I'm going to consider myself even luckier than usual."

And Regis has the rare pleasure of seeing his reserved, unflappable Captain blush.

#ffxv #nyx ulric #titus drautos #drautyx #idek guys #this scene wouldn't leave me the fuck alone #so I wrote it down

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iam93percentstardust · 4 years

Text

Thanks for Watching part 3

Hey everyone! Yesterday, I reached 1000 followers! I’m a little shocked and a little in awe and I certainly never thought I would have this many so thank you for following and listening to my ramblings. I have a couple things planned for this milestone but I don’t have the time to talk about all of them right now, so for now I thought it might be nice to update Thanks for Watching and let our boys finally get together :)

Also on ao3 here

Okay, so he’s known Tony for six months now. It’s not super weird that they’re still not dating right? He knows that Tony thinks he’s attractive—he says it in just about every video that Steve’s in now—and he’s pretty sure that Tony likes the him under the hotness too—or at least, Tony makes sure to reassure him of that after every video—and he definitely thinks Tony’s pretty great.

But they’re still not dating.

He knows it frustrates both Bucky and Rhodey, who ask them about it at least once a week. He’s pretty sure it frustrates Tony’s fans too who always squee about them in the comments. He thinks that’s the term Tony uses.

Squee? Squeezes? Squeegy? No, that can’t be right.

Whatever.

They’re always talking about how cute Steve and Tony are in the comments and wondering when they’re going to start dating. But, hey, Steve’s taking his time, okay? They say the best relationships are those built on a good, solid friendship and that’s what he’s building with Tony right now.

He’s not afraid, no matter what Bucky says.

He’s not.

He might be.

A little.

Maybe a little more than a little.

Okay, so maybe he’s terrified. It’s just that the more he gets to know Tony, the more he gets to see what an incredible, bright, vivacious man he is, the less he feels…worthy, maybe. He’s just Steve Rogers. He can barely keep up with whatever Tony’s chattering about and he wears grandpa pants to go out and he only has followers on any of his social media because of Tony’s shout out. What could he have to offer someone like Tony Stark?

He looks up from where he’s working on his latest commission—a portrait of someone’s wife for their twenty-sixth anniversary since that’s apparently the art one—to where Tony is at the other end of the workshop, doing a Q&A. He does them periodically, usually for subscriber milestones but sometimes for other reasons like an anniversary or a birthday or when he gets enough requests for another one.

“Stuckinmicanopy wants to know how Dum-E got his name,” Tony reads off the screen. In the corner, Dum-E perks up at the sound of his name. “You know, that’s a really good question and it’s one that I don’t think I’ve ever really talked about before. So back at MIT, when Rhodey-bear and I were first working on Dum-E’s programming, he was originally named Laundr because he was supposed to be a laundry bot since we didn’t like doing laundry. And who can blame us? Laundry was created by the devil. Anyway, so Dum-E was supposed to be a laundry bot but then he fell down the stairs like three times in a row and we couldn’t get the bug out of his programming so I called him a dummy and the name just stuck. The spelling thing happened because on Dum-E’s first birthday, we showed him Wall-E and he was infatuated.”

Steve, who has been watching Dum-E steadily trundle closer throughout Tony’s speech, warningly says, “Tony.”

Just in time, Tony turns to stop Dum-E from spraying him with the fire extinguisher. “Nothing’s even on fire, you useless bot,” he exclaims. “Go back to your corner. Go. Shoo. Off you go.”

He gives Steve an exaggeratedly confused look. Steve laughs and shrugs. “He must have heard his name,” he says.

“Must’ve,” Tony agrees. “Okay, next question. Ooh new one just popped up from bellesbagels: is Steve there with me? Yes, he is. Steve likes to come do his art stuff in the workshop because his roommate isn’t there and because I got him a really great easel for his birthday earlier this year. I would tilt the camera so you could all see him but he’s working on a surprise commission and he doesn’t want anyone to see it until it’s finished. Maybe if the next person asks really nicely, he’ll get up and come over here so you guys can say hi.”

“I’ll get up and go over there now,” Steve says, He leaves his brush in the mug and heads over to join Tony by the computer. “Hi Tony, hi viewers.” He drops a quick kiss on the top of Tony’s head—even if he’ll never admit it, Tony craves affection—waves to the camera and meanders back to his easel.

Tony leans back in his chair to give him a fond smile before returning to his questions. “So apparently a lot of you want to know if Steve often gives me kisses and the answer is yes. Steve and I are very affectionate with each other, me because I’m naturally an affectionate person and Steve because I think he feels sorry for me that Howard doesn’t like me.”

“Hey,” Steve protests.

“I’m kidding. Steve and I are affectionate with each other because we both like each other very much and toxic masculinity is ridiculous. And seriously, everyone should take a chance to feel up those biceps at least once. They’re ridiculously huge. So since not everyone gets to see Steve like I do everyday, I will take one for the team and give Steve as many hugs as I can to make up for it.”

See, it’s things like that that make him think Tony is interested in dating him. But then he always adds a “just kidding” or doesn’t follow it up with asking Steve out and he’s just hopelessly confused.

“Shaylabee wants to know when Steve’s birthday is so they can send him a present next year.” He shoots Steve a questioning look. Steve thinks about it and then nods. He’s gotten packages from followers before. They always get sent to Stark Tower where they can be vetted. “Because he is All-American Grade-A beef, Steve’s birthday is ironically on the 4th of July. Next question: lovelyjules asks if Steve and I are aware that we keep acting like we’re dating.”

He pauses and Steve looks up from his easel. Over by the computer, Tony is frowning at the question. Steve gets it. He knows how much Tony hates it when people act like they have to be dating because they give each other hugs and compliments.

“I’ll take this one,” he offers, standing up and joining Tony again.

“Steve—”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He presses another kiss to the side of Tony’s head. “You get this question a lot. Let me handle it for once.” He looks at the camera and takes a deep breath. “Tony and I would like to remind you about what he just said regarding toxic masculinity. We’re very close friends who express our friendship in a physical way but that doesn’t mean that we have to be dating. Tony isn’t interested in anything like that and I respect his choices.” And then, belatedly so that Tony doesn’t suspect anything. “And I’m not either.”

It comes off as a little lame even to him and he thinks Tony might have gotten suspicious judging by the way he frowns oddly.

But when Steve doesn’t say anything else about it, Tony just goes back to the video and says, “That’s all we’ve got time for today. Thanks for listening to me jabber at you today, I’ll be back with a new Science Bros video next week, and as always, thanks for watching.”

Steve waves as Tony turns off the camera, smiling awkwardly.

“Tony—” he starts to say as soon as the blinking light stops flashing.

“Wait. What do you mean I’m not interested?”

He shifts uncomfortably. “Well, you know, you’re always making jokes—”

“You mean flirting with you?”

“You always tell me that you’re just kidding afterwards!” he exclaims

“Because you always look so uncomfortable!” Tony says. “Are you telling me that you never once minded me hitting on you?”

“Why would I mind? I’ve had a crush on you for months.”

Tony gapes at him. “But you never said anything. You just—you looked at me so I just figured you didn’t feel the same. We could have been dating for months?”

“I—” Something is stirring in Steve’s heart, something that feels a little bit like hope. “Yes?”

Tony breaks out into a huge grin and he throws his arms around Steve, hugging him tight. “Wow, we’re just as idiotic as Rhodey’s been saying we are.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Steve argues.

“No, no, Honeybear is always right.”

“We got here, didn’t we?” he points out. “Last I heard, Rhodey was betting on us never getting our shit together.”

Tony laughs brightly, nuzzling deeper into Steve’s chest as he does. Slowly, Steve puts his own arms around Tony. They’ve hugged before, many times really, but this feels…different, momentous even.

“Hey, Tony?” he asks hesitantly, wondering if he’s allowed to do this now.

Tony hums happily.

“Can I—may I, I mean—kiss you?”

His answer is to slide his hands up Steve’s chest, hook around his neck, and pull him down for the softest, gentlest kiss Steve thinks he’s ever had. His own hands slide down to fit around Tony’s waist, bringing him up close as he opens his mouth on a content sigh.

Tony pulls away but doesn’t go far, instead resting his forehead against Steve’s. “That was nice,” he whispers.

“Mmhmm,” Steve agrees. “You want to go out with me tonight? Something low key, maybe?”

“Burgers and milkshakes?”

“Share the milkshake?”

“Would we do any less?” Tony asks, mock-indignantly.

Steve chuckles and kisses Tony again, letting his lips linger. He’s allowed to do this, he gets to have this, have Tony. They’re going to be the disgustingly cute couple driving Bucky and Rhodey crazy, he just knows it.

“No,” he says. “Probably not.”

#stevetony #1000 followers celebration #alle writes #if you like please consider reblogging #verse: thanks for watching

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

Text

Sharp Spikes and Glamour - Fusion AU

Ao3, MasterPost, More of This AU

Relationships: Romantic Dukeceit, mentioned Romantic Royality and Analogical.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex/sexual innuendo, violence against inanimate objects, mentions of injury- for perspective this is Remus-centric, and he’s just like that. Also mild arguing, some self-deprecating thoughts. The Dukeceit fusion uses it/its pronouns (as do I, so no clowning).

Word Count: 3,992

Remus let himself fall backwards onto the hardwood floor, huffing. A satisfying thump echoed through the empty room, but the dull pain at the base of his skull stopped him from slamming his head down again. If Remus kept tripping over himself when his body was in top condition, he probably wouldn’t do any better with a cracked open skull and shattered vertebrae all the way down his back (however fun that might be).

Schmaltzy music lingered in the room still, and with a snap Remus willed it into silence. Now, Remus hated silence, but in that moment it felt like a blessed mercy in the wake of fucking classical fucking ‘music’. He laid flat on the floor, enjoying the quiet and wallowing in his aching muscles. As disgusted as he was by the orchestral garbage, he liked the dancing that went along with it even less- maybe for the simple fact that he was so very bad at it.

So, the big question was why he was doing this to himself. Why had he gone through the trouble of making a dance studio in his side of the Mindpalace? Why the hell was he using it to learn waltzes, rather than his usual style of fast-paced and very suggestive movement?

The answer was simple enough: Janus.

Now, just a month ago, Remus could very confidently say that his and Janus’ relationship was perfect. And it still was, really, but back then he’d been safe in the knowledge that they were also as affectionate and intimate as they could be! Which is to say, very very intimate. Wink, wink, if you catch his meaning. That was the way he liked it; Remus didn’t want there to be a step he hadn’t taken in any situation, but especially a relationship like that!

But then, that month or so prior, a very weird and crazy and impossible and fucking awesome thing happened right in the middle of the goddamn living room, proving Remus unfortunately and/or fortunately wrong about his boyfriend. His brother and his best friend had fused. Like, actually, Roman and Patton had pulled some cartoon bullshit that none of them had ever known they could even do before!

Obviously Remus was floored; everything there was to know about his (and other people’s) physical forms, he knew it and he’d pushed it to the limit before! Except for now, with something he had somehow never found out about that his brother got to first. That was the kicker, that was what made it both shocking and anger-inducing.

There was no question. Remus was going to learn to do that.

So, here he was, trying to learn, but he was not good at like, actually dancing. Which would’ve been fine, if he was dating anyone other than Janus- the most elegant, classy, coordinated side of them all! And Remus knew, somewhere in his sick-and-twisted guts, that Janus deserved to have something special, something that wasn’t more fitting in a sleazy nightclub. He wanted to give him that, no matter how hard it was.

Which was much harder than he’d originally assumed, actually. Before Remus knew it, Virgil and Logan had also managed to form a fusion before he had even gotten the hang of a waltz. And those two hadn’t even danced to get it! Wasn’t that just cementing his confidence?

Remus shook his thoughts away with a frustrated growl. He sat up on his knees braced against the ground, scraping his talons down the shiny wooden floor of his horrible, horrible dance studio. He was gonna get this right, because if there was one thing he wasn’t, it was a fucking quitter.

Swinging up to his feet, Remus pushed his hair back from his face and fixed it into a tangled mass of ponytail. He brought his arms down, and then back up again, shaking them wildly. When he deemed that job done, he kicked his legs out in much the same way. Seeing as he was the embodiment of energy, he never managed to get rid of all of it, but the wiggling definitely helped his focus. With a huff of finality, Remus settled, stared at nothing, and snapped his fingers. Shitty ballroom music filled the room again, and it took all of Remus’ effort to count his steps instead of willfully vomiting onto the floor.

But he did restrain himself, he kept his focus for once and propped his arms up on the empty air. Under his hold, the very absence of material wavered, shaping itself into something like a person. And so he laid his hands on that, in relatively respectful places, and began to lead the mannequin around the room in choppy movements. It matched him beat for beat, but it could not offer its own, organic responses like an actual dancing partner might- and that was by design.

It was boring, that was the real problem. How was he supposed to get invested if it was the same four movements, over and over! Each new attempt, he got maybe five minutes in before the fatigue hit, the need to do anything more interesting. What was just a couple of twirls, maybe a dip? Janus would still probably appreciate those additions anyway!

None of the flair attempts went well. He stumbled, hit the wall, tripped, all of it. By the end of twenty minutes Remus was waving the mannequin out of existence, feeling frustration pricking the corners of his eyes. What was he thinking, he wasn’t Roman, this was so stupid!

Remus straightened up (ha, ha) and spun around. He made his way to the corner of the room, fell into a crouch, and sunk his claws into the edges of the glossy wooden floor. Splinters bit his fingers, but he barely noticed them as he began to peel back the panels. They came free in a series of crunches and snaps, spitting shards of wood out and revealing the void beneath the ground. Remus held the chunks of flooring, feeling sharp edges digging into his palms, and he shredded them to pieces. When they weren’t much bigger than pencils, he let them fall into the newly made hole. Once done, Remus set his hands on the new edge, and he did it again.

But, like almost everything he did, the destruction was loud. Shrieking, splitting, crunching kinds of loud. The kind of loud that didn’t go unnoticed.

And the mindscape was as infinitely big as it was claustrophobically small.

Within minutes there was a sharp knock against the doorframe. Remus jolted upright, spitting out the hunks of plank that had one way or another found their way to his mouth. As he turned, he grinned manically, tucking his hands behind his back.

Janus lifted a brow at him from across the room. The side stood with one hand propped on his hip, the other raised above his head so that he leaned on the doorway. His mouth was a thin, quietly concerned line, his eyes flicking around in tiny movements as he assessed the situation.

“This is quite unlike the other rooms you've created,” He observed, clicking the back of his heel on the floor. Remus turned his gaze to the wall just above Janus’ shoulder, discreetly picking the splinters from his hands. In all honesty, this situation wasn’t unexpected- Janus was known to wander around in Remus’ new creations, whenever he wanted to catch his attention- but Remus had been under the impression that when that happened, he wouldn’t be right in the middle of tearing it all down.

Which had clearly been a stupid assumption from the start, because he was. Himself.

“Hey, J.D.!” he chirped, scraping the last of the rubble from his fingertips, “Thought I might try out something new!”

Janus’ eyebrows arched up, a bemused smirk gracing his lips.

“An empty room?”

“Yeah, but obviously it got boring, so-” he gestured at the corner he’d torn into non-existence. “Time to get rid of it! It was probably a dumb idea, anyway.”

Even to his own ears, his cheery tone sounded forced. He threw in a gargled giggle to make up for it, but that came out even worse. Janus narrowed his eyes in that knowing way of his, then, and Remus knew he’d have to explain himself properly.

“Darling,” Janus slipped into the room with long strides, “What is so wrong that you’re using half-truths to talk to me?”

He wasn’t embarrassed that he’d been learning to dance- he was 99% sure he wasn’t able to feel shame (which was very sexy of him, in his opinion)- but he was upset that he was so disappointed at it.

He didn’t need anyone’s approval… but he certainly wanted Janus’.

“It doesn’t really matter,” Remus’ statement rang with honesty. He met Deceit in the middle of the room, his smile challenging, only to be met with calm and patience.

“I don’t care if it doesn’t ‘really’ matter. I just want to know why my partner was angrily devouring housing material in a brand-new corner of the mindscape.”

“It’s not that weird, I’ve eaten a lot worse than plywood!”

Janus huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’re clearly frustrated.”

“I’m frustrated all the time,” Remus argued, “There are so many stupid things to be frustrated about, you know that. It’s a very easy feeling to have, you get it without even noticing! Like, if it were an injury, it’d be a papercut; everyone has a papercut somewhere on their body most of the time.”

“What?”

“It’s an analogy, I think!”

Janus gave a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Remus felt a small bit of pride at how annoyed he looked, despite the uncomfortable situation he’d gotten himself into.

“Whatever, if you’re really doing so well I suppose I should spare my worry and save us both the headache.”

“Exactly! See, just because I’m feeling a bit manic-panic doesn’t mean it has anything to do with you, scaleface.”

And that was his mistake.

Janus stopped turning away as soon as he’d started, his mouth curving into a deep frown. He crossed his arms over his chest, and he almost seemed to be offended.

“You just lied.”

Remus, internally, screamed. He hadn’t even fuckin’ lied on purpose! That couldn’t be fair!

“So it is about me, then,” Janus went on slowly. “Are you angry with me?”

Remus blinked, falling untense oh-so quickly at what he now saw was Janus’ nervous face.

“Wha- no! That’s not what this is about!”

Janus only narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Remus grabbed the snake’s hands with his own scarred ones, pulling him near. He felt his hesitation leave as soon as it had arrived, replaced by his usual affinity for just spitting out whatever he had to say. It wouldn’t turn out any worse than having to see his baby hurt or worried.

“It was supposed to be a surprise. For you.”

The suspicion melted off of Janus' face in increments, leaving him with a confused little half-smile.

“For me?” He echoed, “What was it?’

Remus huffed, snapping his fingers. The lyricless music returned to the desecrated room, and he gestured around with both hands.

“It didn’t really work out the way I planned, so,” he rolled his eyes and huffed. “I was teaching myself to dance all proper.”

Remus could basically see Janus’ thinking, and for some reason it was grating him.

“You want to dance with me? Dear, you know you don’t need to give me traditional romantic gestures like that-”

“It was to fuse!” Remus blurted, “I wanted to fuse with you. Like, properly.”

Janus made a soft sound of realization, his eyes going wide. He was silent for a long moment, holding too-tight onto Remus’ hands. But he had yet to let go, which the creative trait counted as a good sign.

“Oh, Love,” he whispered at last, “You’re really serious.”

Remus would’ve winced, if not for the fact that Janus' face was split in a smile, open and sincere in a way that showed he'd really been caught off-guard. His face was warm, and he looked pleased for all the world. He wasn’t judgmental, then, only surprised.

“Um… yes? I wanna fuse with you?”

Janus shook his head musingly, laughing almost exasperatedly.

“No, no, I understood that bit, but-” he waved a hand at the barren room, smirk growing wider, “Ballroom dancing? You? Really?”

He had a point. The walls were a pristine white, shot through with neat marbled patterns. There were mirrors stretching the surface of either wall, reflecting onto each other with clean clarity. There was no clutter, no objects, nothing but the little box itself. And Remus felt no more frustration as he burst out laughing. He tipped his head back and cackled, tugging Janus’ arms until they were pressed together.

“I don’t know why I thought this would work!” He cackled.

“I never know why you think anything that you do,” Janus’s nose wrinkled as his own resolve cracked, leaving shrill giggling behind. Remus snorted, holding onto his partner just to keep himself upright.

“Sorry, Jay,” he almost wheezed, “There’s no way we’re gonna be able to fuse like this, I’m horrible at it.”

Janus’ giggles tapered to a stop sharply, turning to trills of confusion before cutting off completely. Remus met his eyes, and was surprised to find renewed concern.

“Now, that’s entirely what I meant by that remark, you aren’t misinterpreting at all.”

Remus squinted at him, at the sudden spout of backwards talk.

“...What?”

Janus scoffed.

“Of course I don’t want to fuse with you, it’s not like we’re in a committed relationship, or anything.”

Janus got very lie-ey when he was heated; the ferocity had Remus taken aback.

“Soooo, you… do want to try it with me?”

Janus glared in a very duh-obviously--you-idiot kind of way. Remus might have been annoyed with his little tsundere, but the snake’s grumpy face edged just too much on the endearing side for it to spark any of that. It wasn’t too much of a shocking revelation, he supposed, but when he admitted to failing before it felt pretty final, in his opinion.

“Uh, Okay! You have to lead, though, and I’m at least 60% sure it won’t work, because like I said I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Janus hummed in satisfaction, his grimace curving up into a smirk.

“To start, we’ll need a change of scenery.”

Remus nodded agreeably. They couldn’t risk falling into the nothingness pit he’d made, after all- those were very difficult to get back out of and not a whole lot of fun in general. So when Janus held his hand out invitingly, Remus took it, letting the trait transport them to wherever he had in mind.

But that place was no better than the destroyed dance studio at all. The room they ended up in was also very much destroyed, and cluttered, and generally very slimy.

Remus’ room. From the corner of his eye, he saw Janus’ lips twitch in amusement.

“Dear, let me explain,” he tilted his head back just so, making eye-contact with his boyfriend. “We’re going to fuse. It could be in here, for all I care, or somewhere bigger for our needs, but whatever it is most certainly will be a dancefloor. Because we’re not doing this your way.”

Remus made a startled chuckling noise, almost convincing himself that the doublespeak was somehow triplespeak- which just looped back around to ‘speak’, come to think of it.

“You- that’s a really bad idea.”

Something teasing glinted in Janus’ eyes.

“Aren’t bad ideas your specialty?”

“Yes,” Remus ground his teeth together, “But not yours!”

“Your point?”

Remus breathed exhaled, loud and puffing, as he tried to explain. He wasn’t going to deny the excitement this was all bringing him, but it was hysterical, an almost negative side to enthusiasm. There were so many things that felt needed to be said. To be warned, before Janus made a horribly bad decision for himself.

“My point,” he managed, words heavy in his throat, “Is I don’t think about things, so one of us has to. I want to do this the right way, Jan, this is like the one thing I don’t want to fuck up.”

Janus narrowed his eyes, the corners of his lips twitching down.

“You think it won’t work this way.”

“You like doing things so fancy and dramatically!”

“You called it the ‘right way’,” it was hardly above a whisper, he looked surprised at his own words as he said them. Remus could only scoff.

“Well, yeah! If we do it how I would, then you probably won’t wanna be part of the creature that comes out of that!”

Janus’ pupils went from circles to slivers in no time at all, pain washing over his expression. Remus held his hands tighter and leaned in, ready to apologize for whatever he’d said to hurt him, but he couldn’t get a word in.

“It’s going to end up more of you than me. That’s what you’re worried about.”

It wasn’t a question. Remus felt some of his usually infinite energy slip away from him. It left a hole behind.

“I know you, baby,” he was tired, maybe desperate, “You won’t want that.”

“Why shouldn’t I want it?” Janus snapped suddenly, “I’ve already made it clear that I want you. Clearly I must find some of your qualities desirable, why else would I spend nearly all my time with you, around you, thinking of you?”

There was a fragile kind of quietness, broken only by Janus’ hitching breath. Remus found himself blinking and blinking, his eyes stinging like someone was pushing needles into his tear ducts, agonizingly slow. He pulled Janus to his chest, propping his chin on the side’s hat and shivering.

And Remus, to his own shock, had no words. He didn’t have much on his mind at all, knowing only that he felt so much in the moment, so much and so powerful and all serving to remind him why he loved Janus as much as he did.

He wanted to ask more questions, to make sure that Janus was as sure as he said he was, but he couldn’t. His snake was stubborn, would stick to his words no matter how much Remus badgered him, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way. He pressed a kiss to the top of Janus head, closed his eyes, and let the emotions wash over him.

He breathed in, out, and suddenly the second wave hit him in the chest, his eyes forced open.

Or…

It. Its eyes were forced open. Yes, that sounded right.

It stood in the middle of a room- a familiar room, but certainly not Remus’. It was much bigger, the ceiling higher to accommodate the inhabitants height, and much more organized. There was still plenty of clutter, plenty of skulls and bones and preserved creatures, but all in neat little rows on pretty rustic shelves. The place had the distinct vibe of a house belonging to a very ominous, eccentric, wealthy old murderer. Perfect.

The new creature turned its attention to itself, stretching out its limbs curiously. All nine of them, it turned out; seven arms stacked on their torso, four on the left and three on the right, all of which ending in sharp talons covered by gloves. A wicked grin split its face, and it wasted barely a moment before dashing out of the new room and down the hall. It came to the bathroom door, threw it open, and leapt inside. Two hands gripping the basin, it peered at its reflection. Two piercing, yellow eyes peered back, the pupils mismatched in shape and size. Lime-green scales covered its face and neck in splotches, smooth and diamond-shaped.

As its gaze traveled downwards, it appreciated the too-wide mouth filled with dangerous fangs, those snake-like slits up both sides of the face. Its hair was kept pinned back from its face, partially hidden beneath a black, metal crown. It was clearly messy- probably greasy- colored very dark with shocks of silver running through.

The collar of its shirt rose to nearly past its jaw, then plunged down to reveal a lot more of its chest than necessary. Its clothes were almost entirely black, broken up by the lemon/lime embellishments travelling up its arms and around the clasps in the front. The overcoat had long coattails and striped sleeves, ending in cuffs of fabric about the wrists. Moving lower it had very tight pants that did not leave much to the imagination, and boots that were more than a little over-the-top. Finally, there was the cape, hung around its shoulders and reaching floor length. It billowed when it moved even as much as an inch, looking at first like more black. Then the material caught the light, showing a dazzling display of green and yellow, glittering like a perfectly formed geode.

A laugh sprouted from it, giddy and exuberant. It twirled in the small space, its many hands twisting and toying with its outfit, hair, anything it could reach. From its hazy mind came then came its first intelligible thought, just from its appearance: it was called Rennet.

It stilled, hands hovering in scattered positions. The sharp laughs were quieting, but it still shook like it was laughing. Just shaking in general, probably. The worries of its more excitable half weren’t all gone, not that easily, and it knew it wasn’t yet stable.

Rennet took a breath, but its head didn’t clear, if anything it grew fuzzier. It was two creatures, two creatures that spent hours and hours inside their own heads as it was, and now both of those over-stuffed brains were in one too-small skull. It could almost feel the weight, leaning heavily on the wall just to keep upright.

“Should we stop?” Rennet verbalized the question in a thickly accented voice, knowing that otherwise it would never be able to understand the words through the mess of its mind.

“I don’t know,” it’s tone dropped in pitch, the sharp edges smoother, “Is that what you want?”

But it had barely gotten a chance to be. It couldn’t give up already.

So what was wrong with it?

“Oh, I don’t know. Everything?” Rennet threw its head back, because of course the worst thought was the only one that ended up audible. It sighed, dragged a hand down its face, shook its head. “Just remember the saying- two wrongs don’t make a right!”

Rennet’s mouth shut with a snap, and it felt quite angry with itself. On behalf of itself. It wasn’t sure, really- the indignation was much like something felt when a loved one was insulted, not when one’s self was insulted. That somehow made the sting worse.

“You think you’re wrong?” It said in a whisper, clutching its own wrists tight. Rennet knew the answer, though, knew it as it was ingrained into them.

And with that, its resolve sharpened. It was not going to come apart so easily, it would not accept either bits of it thinking anything so bad about himself, and…

Rennet was going to be the sexiest, baddest bitch the Mindpalace had ever seen. That was for damn certain.

It stood straight up, clapping three pairs of hands together and snapping its fingers with the seventh. It had to bear in mind that it was, for the time being, a giant sparkly monster babe. Now, being sad under those conditions just wouldn’t make any sense, and it intended to keep that thought at the forefront of its newly formed mind. Because Rennet was smart, it’d certainly retained that part of Janus, and it was peppy, if Remus had any part in it at all.

And, it mused, as it walked through the hall and down into the living room- it was undoubtedly very mischievous.

Taglist: @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob

#sanders sides #ts #fanfiction #dukeceit #fusion #my writing #sanders sides fanfiction #ts fanfic #fanfic #janus #remus #WijjFusionAU #I kin rennet and also i want it to maul me so it was a very fun character to write

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newcaptainofsquad9 · 4 years

Text

The Shakespeare Substitute {1} Kim Taehyung x black! fem! reader(College AU)

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: When your Shakespeare professor happens to be absent for the week due to illness, a handsome, yet familiar man steps in to teach for him. This happens to be Kim Taehyung, an old friend of yours back in high school, and an old crush of yours. He can’t help but stare at you throughout class, leaving you an anxious mess until the fifty minute class period is over.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance, College AU, Smut(in later parts)

Word Count: 1, 973

Warnings: None for this chapter anyway

Author’s Note: I know, another series! This one will be short (at least three parts) I promise! I’m open for requests for BTS and EXO hope you enjoy!

I did a double take on my phone as I blink back up at the doorway. It’s already 2:07 and Mr. Green hasn’t shown up for class yet.

“Did he send an email?” I ask, turning over to my friends James and Stacy.

James turns his nose up before running a hand through his mini fro.

“Look woman,” he scolds, “I checked it four times, refreshed and everything-it’s nothing!”

I frown at his tone. I can’t tell whether he’s being sarcastic or if there’s something upsetting him.

“You good?” I ask, “can’t really tell if you’re joking or not.”

James sighs while pushing the glasses up on his face.

“Sorry Y/N/N, I’m just a bit overwhelmed,” he says.

I nod.

“Classes already getting the best of you?” Stacy counters.

James shakes his head vigorously.

“The classes aren’t the fucking problem,” he groans, “Valentines day is coming up and I’m trying to decide on the fucking venue for Cody and I to have dinner! Got it all planned out and everything.”

I deadpan at his words. Is he seriously this worked up over a God damn date?

“Are you for real?” I ask.

James pops his neck at me.

“Of course it is,” he growls, “I don’t expect you to understand Ms. I’ve never dated a guy in my life.”

Of course he exposes me like this. A few of the girls in the front rows turn, they look disinterested, yet I’d like to keep this in my enter circle of friends. This may be a university setting, however rumors still spread like a fucking plague. And here I thought the high school tendencies would cease, I had too much faith in humanity to even fathom that.

“You want to tell the entire class,” I say, “keep your voice down.”

Stacy scoots her desk closer, a sly grin and a hand below her chin.

“Is he for real, Y/N? You never had a boyfriend?” she asks.

I open my mouth, then close it as James gives me a “yeah go ahead and lie, I’mma spill the tea anyway” look. I’d rather tell them something before Mr.Green arrives and class actually starts.

“Technically no,” I explain, “I’ve never dated anyone, well there was this guy back in high school, but he was way outta my league.”

James rolls his eyes while Stacy gasps.

“Out of your league?” she exclaims, “he’s got to be a Greek God, because you’re gorgeous.”

I shake her complement off.

“Thanks, but when I tell you he’s out of my league he is,” I say, “he was from Korea, and dressed like your typical international student: wearing Gucci and Chanel as if it were Nike for us.”

“I own a pair of Gucci slides,” Stacy says.

James chuckles.

“That doesn’t count, you got rich ass grandparents!” he hisses.

“Anyway,” I say, “all the girls wanted him, those preppy white ones especially, no offense Stacy, but yeah-he was also a grade above me so..”

Stacy sips her latte in confusion.

“That still doesn’t explain how he was technically almost your boyfriend?”she asks.

And here I thought she’d forget. Curse James and his big mouth.

“Yeah, about that, uh well, we kinda became friends over lunch and ah,” I pause, the memory hitting me extremely fast and abruptly.

Taehyung with that boxy smile of his as it fell. My heart lurched as he rubbed my shoulder.

“I-I’m going back to Korea,” he said.

“S-So is it over? Did we even have anything?”

I barely got to ask as Taehyung’s lips met mine. It lingered prior to him pulling back.

“Yeah, we did, but I don’t want you to hurt if it doesn’t work while I’m away,” he said.

“Um, Y/N,” Stacy says, breaking me from the painful memory. “she, good?”

James leans across his desk to take my hand.

“I can tell the rest,” he reassures, “if you’d let me?”

I nod and inhale.

“Ok, so!” James starts like the complete Drama King that he is. “this kigga had the nerve to admit his feelings for Y/N during prom while his date was making out with the Physics professor!”

“Physics professor?” Stacy asks.

“It’s a long story,” I say, “he was like in his twenties, she was 19, but it was still weird.”

“Oh, so, did he like you or-”

“Aparently so,” I say, “like he could have told me that he was going away, uh, I don’t know a few weeks or months before graduation!”

James pats my hand.

“It’s ok sweetie,” he says, “he’s out of your life now.”

“What’s his name?” Stacy asks.

“Kim Tae-”

My words are cut off as someone enters the room and it isn’t Mr. Green. Instead, taking Mr. Green’s usual spot behind the brown colored podium is someone more youthful, and taller. His hair is in unkempt, medium length and jet black, matching his black turtleneck, blazer and pants.

I look to his face again as the breath gets knocked from me. Taehyung. I reach over and tap James’ arm, forcing him to break from his fixed glare on the familiar man that just walked in.

“James, James, snap out of it,” I urge.

“W-What girl! Do you see this sexy man?”

I try to answer but I’m interrupted.

“Hello class!” he greets, “Mr. Green fell ill so I’m here to teach Shakespeare in his stead!”

A collection of groans fall throughout the class while I’m still in shock. How is he here? He’s a sub? How the fuck?

“Now, now, it’s nothing serious, he should be back next week, but I’ll ensure that your final lessons on Twelfth Night run smoothly-ah! How could I forget, my name’s Kim Taehyung, I’m your sub for the week, but you can call me Taehyung.”

James’ smile drops as he turns to me.

“Oh shit,” he says, “oh shit, Y/N!”

Stacy turns my way as I lean down into my seat.

“W-What?” she whispers.

James glances Taehyung’s way before at Stacy.

“That’s Y/N’s almost ex,” he whispers.

Stacy opens her mouth, then covers it. This is my life now apparently.

“Taehyung!”

A hand shoots up from the front, from here I can see the long strands of blonde hair.

“Yes?” he asks.

“Uh, h-how old are you, uh, I mean you look young enough to be a first year university student,” she teases, “I-I mean not to be rude or anything.”

James rolls his eyes.

“Of course she fucking did,” he says.

I shake my head and watch as Taehyung chuckles.

“No, you weren’t, it’s a simple observation, I’m 24 and I’m currently working on my masters, thus being a substitute is great experience for it.”

The class nods in appreciation while all of the women and some men in the classroom admire Taehyung. God, can this class period end any sooner.

“But enough about me,” Taehyung says, “let’s go through roll.” He pulls out Mr. Green’s grading book, so he must know him personally, or at least got it through the school. My heart quickens as he goes down the line: James answers with an overly enthusiastic ‘here’ and Stacy with a sliver of one. My eyes go forward as Taehyung stops for a moment prior to calling my name.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N,” he says it as if I weren’t real, like he has a hard time believing I’d take a damn Shakespeare class.

“Here,” I say and sink back down into my seat.

Taehyung steps around the podium and our eyes meet. He wets his lips as if to say something, but I look away. I can feel his eyes lingering on me before he goes back to roll.

“And, Jessica?”

The same blonde haired girl who asked Taehyung that question shot her hand up again.

“Here,” she says rather softly, a little too softly for my liking.

God, why am I caring? Taehyung and I were hardly dating, I shouldn’t care.

“A-All right, so let’s pick up with Act IV scene one,” Taehyung says as he glances around the class as every pulls out their copies of Twelfth Night.

He stares at me once more prior to moving over to the whiteboard to write out the characters names.

“Ok, who’d like to read for the part of Olivia?”

Jessica’s hand shoots up again, of course.

...

Fifty minutes manage to crawl by, leaving us finished with Twelfth Night.

“That shit was sooo convenient,” Stacy groans as she tosses her bag over her shoulder.

James nods.

“Right, like Viola was a dude the entire time and suddenly Orsino’s got feelings,” he says, “he’s got to be bi at least.”

Taehyung grins.

“Thanks for being so cool about this guys! Start reading Hamlet for Wednesday!” he announces.

Everyone floods to the door at once, of course Jessica flutters her eyes at him before leaving. James and Stacy push through next, I try to keep up, yet I drop my water bottle.

Taehyung crouches down quicker than I can react, scooping my bottle up into his arms. Our eyes meet again, this time I hold his black eyes and notice the somber nature within them. He looked the same way during graduation, as if I was fragile, like I couldn’t handle what he was going to tell me. I didn’t at the time, but now I’m over it.

“Y/N,” he says my name carefully.

I glance back down at my water bottle in his hands.

“Can we talk, please?” he asks.

“Can I have my water bottle?” I counter.

Taehyung glances back down at it, bites his lip and stares back at me.

“Y/N, just five minutes of your time,” he says.

“I-I don’t have that long, I-I got class,” I lie.

Taehyung smirks.

“If you had a class next then why were you chatting it up when the period ended,” he teases.

“For fucks sake, of course you were watching,” I groan.

Taehyung moves to shut the door, leaving me to stare at him incredulously.

“C’mon, just hear me out,” he urges.

“Ok, then,” I let out as I slump down on top of a desk, “let’s talk.”

Taehyung sits on the desk across from me, biting his lips again before running a hand through his dark locks.

“God, it’s so crazy seeing you here,” he bellows, “I-I mean, how have you been?”

I shrug.

“Living, classes are going ok, been to a few clubs on campus, nothing really life changing,” I answer simply.

Taehyung shifts up from his desk.

“Don’t be that way, can you look at me?”

I look his way and almost recoil at how close he is now, nearly hovering over me.

“T-Taehyung-”

He leans down against my ear.

“I missed you,” he admits, “I may have called it off, but I never forgot about you.”

Is he serious?

He pulls away and our faces are inches away, his smoldering eyes holding mine again.

“Here,” he says handing me the water bottle back, “and this.”

Taehyung scurries back over to the podium, tears out a piece of paper and writes on it.

“If you want to talk, here’s my number, “ he says, “if you want this to stay in the past, it’ll stay there. I’ll play the well behaved sub.”

His words bring a smile to my lips and I can’t help but make the connection.

“We only kissed once and now you want to be well behaved?”

Taehyung chuckles.

“I wouldn’t jump the gun too far, Y/N,” he says, “does that mean we can talk, again?”

I bite my lip at how eager he is. I don’t think he’s ever showed me this much attention in the past.

“Maybe, let me see how much time I got after homework,” I say.

Taehyung grins, opening the door, allowing me to step out.

My false sense of bravado disappears as I begin to panic.

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jamkookies · 4 years

Text

Epilogue: Red Moon

Description : A trip to Malta for the shooting of Bon Voyage seems peaceful enough until the moment things take an unexpected turn...

Word count: 7,4k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You could hear the hushed voices that broke the silence and along with it the quiet buzz of traffic behind the glass panes. They were trying not to wake you up but what they didn't know was that you'd already been awake this whole time, only choosing to close your eyes for the sake of trying to satiate your inner turmoil.

"What did he say?" A voice you would recognize anywhere and anytime. Jungkook's arm was comfortably draped around your back, allowing your head to lean on his warm, familiar chest. It felt more like home now that you knew that you were going there...

A tap on a screen. A rustle of clothes.

"He said they're all waiting for us at the dorm." Another voice but this one you'd missed hearing for a long time.

Namjoon.

"Good." Jungkook's low voice vibrates through his chest. He sighs wistfully. "I hope everything goes well from now on. I'm tired."

"Don't worry. It's over now, " you hear Namjoon reply. Then, a hesitant pause. "How is she?"

"I'm alive and well, Joon-Hyung. Thanks for asking," you mumble with your face mushed into Jungkook's chest, eyes still closed. The latter flinches slightly and tilts his head down, trying to see if you'd really been the one talking. "I thought you were asleep."

"How can I when the both of you won't stop babbling?" You turn to stare at the boy sitting across from you.

Namjoon smiles sheepishly and two small dimples appear on his cheeks. "Sorry."

It was not easy to describe the warm sensation you felt blooming in your chest, spreading its colorful tendrils into a series of explosions. Weird, to realize the importance of some people in your life, how their absence could turn your heart into a hollow, a barren crater. Only now that he was right in front of your eyes did you understand that you'd grown used to being around your loved ones. Keeping yourself apart from them did not particularly make you happy.

Namjoon's smile disappears as his forehead creases into a line. "Jungkook, will you please hand her over for a second for goodness' sake? You've been with her all this time. It's my turn now."

You momentarily freeze, surprise written all over your face. All these years of living with him had made you hesitate about being too clingy since you knew perfectly well that he wasn't a fan of overly physical contact. Sure, you'd hugged a bit earlier back at the building but that was it. Namjoon liked short, quick interactions but now that he was demanding extra cuddling himself, you didn't really know how to react.

Jungkook disentangles himself from you and gives your body a slight push towards the boy waiting with open arms. You sit down next to him, a bit hesitant at first but Namjoon ends the awkwardness by throwing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a side hug. You breathe him in, trying to absorb that scent of solace. It eased every strain on your muscles; you could feel it from the way you just sag into his arms.

"I missed you," Namjoon whispers softly and strokes your back with the flat of his palm.

"I missed you more," you sigh.

Through a crack in Namjoon's elbow, you peek at Jungkook on the opposite seat, smiling endearingly at the scene unfolding in front of him. "What are you smiling at?" you murmur in distaste.

"I'm not smiling, " Jungkook quickly regains his composure and wipes off the dumb-looking expression.

"You were, actually, " Namjoon confirms.

"Hyung!" the boy complains, utterly shocked at the unexpected betrayal. You find the corners of your lips upturn, delighted from these harmless quarrels that reminded you of the way you'd always been with each other. Playful, mischievous and happy.

"Now you're the one smiling, " you find Jungkook staring at you unabashedly. You change your expression with lightning speed, just as he'd done earlier. "Oh shut up, Jungkook."

"It's a shame that the both of you didn't pursue acting, " Namjoon intervenes. "I was really speechless at your little game back there with manager-nim."

"I didn't even know it was gonna work, " you admit. "I was just hoping he would fall for the trick."

"You did well, though, " Jungkook says. "At first I almost thought you were being for real. But then you dropped the hint and I went along with the game."

"What hint?" Namjoon asks.

"She said the words 'fake it' and stared at me so hard, it was impossible not to tell. Besides-" he throws a leg across his knee. "- I know you would never say those things about me."

You look away and choose to stare hard at the scenery skipping past your eyes, the presence of Namjoon suddenly making you too self-conscious. He rapidly switches glances between you and Jungkook, trying to make sense of it all. "I don't understand what's going on."

"It doesn't matter. Jungkook-Hyung will explain it to you later, " you clarify for him.

They both do a double-take, one giving you a death glare while the other just a confused one. "Why are you calling me that, Y/N?" the former demands. "Namjoon-hyung already knows about us."

This whole situation didn't sit well with you. You don't take your eyes off the window but choose to talk with their obscure reflections instead. "But the others-"

"Y/N, literally everyone knew about the two of you, " Namjoon's reflection says. "You were the one who took the longest to realize it."

This was crazy. Even after all the hell you'd been through, you still felt concerned over their thoughts and opinions and the light they saw you in. Were they okay with it? Did they feel angry? Betrayed? Disappointed? Just what did they feel?

You rest your forehead on the glass pane of the window and shut your eyes tight. There was a throbbing ache in between your brows that was growing more and more intense and you just wanted it gone. "What do I do? Tell me, please. I'm tired, " you drawl the words out.

"First, you stop whining, that's what you should do, " Jungkook's slightly irritated voice causes your eyelids to shoot open, vision straying out of focus.

"Jungkook, it's better if you-"

"No, hyung. She's been going on like this since I can remember. I already told her that I was being serious about us and I don't think the others would ever say anything against it but she just doesn't want to admit it. It's always the people. Always the damn people. Well, screw the people. I don't even care at this po- why won't you look at me?"

As if on cue, your eyes raise deliberately towards the glass till they hold his stare. His hands are paused mid-air, strangely resembling a choking position. The heat in his words had been real after all. "Don't turn your back on me, " he continues, his voice an octave lower.

You turn around.

Jungkook lowers his hands into his lap. "Stop making things harder. It's not that deep."

Your lips crack into an uncontainable smirk. "You're such a bastard. Joon-hyung, can you believe I love this idiot?"

"Idiots love idiots, I guess, " Namjoon answers.

Jungkook's booming laugh echoes across the small space of the car. "Nice one, hyung. Wait, did you just call me-"

"You have no evidence, " Namjoon defends himself.

Now you're the one exploding into a frenzy of manic laughter. This whole situation had made a one-eighty flip, any traces of gloom now utterly forgotten.

"You shut up, " Jungkook sneers.

"Make me, " you reply.

"I'll throw you out of the car."

"I'll bash your head into the window."

He sticks his tongue at you.

You do the same.

"Sir, how much longer?" Namjoon yells at the driver.

* * *

The dorm has never looked more beautiful in your eyes. You'd experienced something similar to it hundreds of times. The numerous tours you did throughout the year would often make your homesickness unbearable so when you came back, nothing could top the familiar way your old blanket would pool in the floor, accompanied by a cup of hot chocolate in your hand.

Despite the eagerness to join the others after so long, you still dread having to explain everything all over again. You just didn't want to dwell on the past anymore, no matter how visible the results were to the present.

As soon as the car stops, you take a deep breath before doing anything else. "Are you okay?" Namjoon asks, concern evident on his face.

"No, " you admit.

He'd probably been waiting for you to go through the usual procedure; pretend to be fine and suck it up. Well, you don't. After all, you'd promised not to pretend anymore.

"It's okay. You will be, " he assures.

As if to emphasize this very fact, Jungkook intertwines your hands together and opens the car door. He pulls you close to him, Namjoon not far behind and after a few steps, the three of you are standing in front of the main entrance. The way you nod a silent salute at the bodyguards in each corner has changed just like the brand new lenses you now see them through.

Jungkook rings the bell. Not even two seconds have passed when the door flies open, an angry-looking Hoseok occupying the threshold. There are daggers shooting from his eyes and unfortunately, you're the target. He points a finger at you accusingly. "You owe me an apology."

You blink.

"First of all-" he throws his arms around you. "-lying is not cool. Second of all-" he squeezes you affectionately. "- don't ever act like you don't know me. I knew it was you at the airport."

You couldn't really take his words seriously while his actions said otherwise but then again, this was Hoseok you were talking about. You squeeze him back. "Sorry, hyung."

The others must have heard the pandemonium because next thing you know; a rumble of footsteps boom across the salon. The first head you peep from Hoseok's shoulder is Yoongi's, who is speeding towards you with his signature grandpa run. You're not even left a moment to breathe as he crashes into you as soon as Hoseok lets go. "Oh thank God. Don't you ever do that again. Ever." He guides your head onto the crook of his neck, laying it for support as he squeezes the life out of you.

Overwhelmed was an understatement. You were feeling all sorts of things, the kinds of which you'd never felt before. They were all worried sick, you knew that but you'd never seen them act like this. Still, you had yet to wait for a series of scoldings and simultaneous hugs.

Out of nowhere, the inseparable duo of Jimin and Taehyung pops up. You're immediately ripped off from Yoongi's embrace and dragged like a rag doll through the floor as both of them throw themselves at you. Normally, you would've been able to hold their weight just fine; the practice of all those years of fights had trained you more than enough, but now you just drop like a sack of potatoes, Tae's and Jimin's faces looming over you from above.

For some strange reason, they always seemed to forget that you had some girl things on your chest that didn't exactly allow you to play around freely. At this moment, Taehyung's elbow digs painfully on the spot right next to your armpit, which meant really close to the area of danger. They were weighing you down on each side like two overgrown pigs.

"Do you want to go first?" Jimin asks his partner in crime while boring holes with his eyes into your face.

"No, I'll let you do the honors, " the latter answers while mirroring his actions.

"Hey, lay off her!" Namjoon scorns them. "She's tired." They still remain on top of you, indifferent to their hyung's words. Then, Jimin's playfully serious face turns genuine for a moment and you detect the look of concern that flashes behind his eyes. "You really scared us you, idiot."

"Yeah, you did," Taehyung confirms.

You have the nerve to laugh. "Is this how you say hi to your old roommate?"

"Hey, don't exclude me!" Jimin whines.

You knee him in the groin. He doubles over in pain and rolls off your body, taking a huge chunk from the weight that had been pushing you down. Finally, you can breathe freely once again. But not quite.

Your old roommate is still frozen in his spot, not a muscle moving. You didn't know whether he was shocked or if their stupid soulmate voodoo made them feel pain on both partners but either way, you were certainly not gonna cut him any slack because of it. He notices the shift in your facial expression only a split second later and even though his hands instinctively reach for his crotch they don't manage to cover it in time. Your upper thigh hits his delicate area not so delicately if you might say. He groans and finally removes himself from your exhausted body.

Finally.

"Can't you just greet me like a normal person would?" you grunt as you support one hand to the floor to push yourself up. Jungkook easily comes to your aid and to the injured soldiers that still hadn't gotten up from the floor.

"You kinda deserved it, though, " he mumbles. You bend your knee, acting as if you're gonna hit him too and he flinches.

Hoseok's delighted chuckle brings joy in your chest. His face is back to that radiating aura, just like you remembered. It had that contagious quality to it. You would almost always notice the corners of your lips turning up as if they had a mind of their own. But after that, awkward silence.

You'd seen it coming but now that the white noise in the room turns almost deafening, you are overly aware of the situation. It's like you're the center of unwanted attention. At first, you're wondering why they were all cornering you with their glares and not even throwing a look at Jungkook but then you remember. They'd already met while you were unconscious. There was so much you needed to catch on.

You clear your throat. "So, where's Jin-hyung?"

Yoongi's face contorts in distress. "He's upstairs."

You don't miss the sudden change in his expression. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, " Hoseok interferes. "He just wasn't feeling very well."

Oh no.

His words have barely registered in your brain when you're suddenly sprinting up the stairs, swallowing them two by two with each step. You don't even think about knocking, swinging the door on his room wide open in a quick motion.

The shape of a body is discernible under the covers in the bed. It resembles a fetal position but not a strip of skin is visible. He'd covered himself up from head to toe.

"Leave me alone, " you hear his muffled voice.

"Hyung..." you hesitate.

The covers are ripped immediately from his body, his head popping out in the surface with a sharp swish. You see past the bed-head, past the lines the fabric had etched onto his skin and focus on his eyes. They widened twice the size and just like that, were hooded in surrender. Glassy.

"Y/N?"

"Hyung, " you repeat.

He pulls the covers over his head, clenching his hands tight on the edges and wrapping himself up like a mummy. You creep closer to the side of the bed and slowly approach him. "Hyung, what's wrong?"

You lay a hesitant hand where you supposed his arm was and talk hushedly, almost in a whisper. As if he were a little boy. The covers start shaking, the body underneath heaving with convulsions.

"Hyung, please don't cry. This is all my fault, please don't cry." You delicately pull the covers from him and his face emerges into the surface, glistening with undried tears. This wasn't like him. You'd never seen him like this, in this level of misery before. You couldn't understand the reason why he was so affected.

And then, suddenly everything clicks into place. He wasn't mad at you, nor bitter at that case. He was mad at himself. Being the oldest had always been a burden to him, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. It went without saying that he had responsibilities and that's why the recent events had taken a toll on him more than anyone else. He felt like it was his fault that you'd gotten yourself into all that trouble and rendered himself guilty for not being able to do anything about it.

You crouch down until your head lays on his chest and lock his waist in a warm hug. Thankfully he returns the hug and doesn't hesitate to thread his fingers through your hair. "Jin-hyung, I..."

"I know. Jungkook told us everything."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• JUNGKOOK •

What is taking her so long?

It has been half an hour since she disappeared upstairs and I haven't heard a single chirp from either of them. I'm starting to get worried. "Hyung, are you sure Jin-hyung is okay?" I ask Yoongi for the nth time within the recent hour.

"He's fine, don't worry. His pride is hurt that's all."

It still baffled me that Jin-hyung had been so hurt by everything that had happened. However, I did sympathize with him to some extent. After all, he has been like a lord-protector for us all this time despite the carefree portrait everyone likes to paint him in. Only now do I realize how much can time bring out people's true colors.

"There you are!" I hear Taehyung call out at the top of his lungs. On cue, two pairs of legs make their way down the stairs, one of which attains loose white pajamas with tiny RJ figurines. Jin leans heavily onto Y/N 's shoulders as he shuffles one step after the other. I patiently wait for them to reach the bottom of the stairs before going into a frenzy of critiques. "Don't tell me you exercised right after eating again, Hyung! " I scold him in a poor attempt to get rid of the gloominess in the room. "I've told you millions of times that it makes you sick."

"Shut up, kid. What do you know? I basically raised you." He gives me that typical expressionless face when he tags along in my games. "I should've let you starve." He shakes his head pitifully.

"Hey, I paid for my own lunch!" I whine yet again.

He sighs wistfully and turns his head to Y/N who is still supporting his weight. " You better shut your boyfriend's mouth before I beat his ass."

She snorts."You'll have to get in line."

I try not to let the relief show on my face. At least she didn't blush so furiously or flinch upon hearing such terms. It took a long time for me to get rid of her unnecessary shyness, which to be honest I sometimes enjoyed, but fortunately, she now doesn't mind being called names that indicated more than just friendship.

Jimin takes the lead from Y/N, throwing Jin's arm around his own shoulders and guiding him towards the sofa. The latter plops down heavily, arching his back till the nape of his neck touches the soft fabric.

There really was something going on with him.

"Hyung..." I start, almost in a whisper but he raises a hand to stop me from going further.

"Spare me."

Why was everyone being so irritating today? I'm torn between decking Jin on the face and pulling Y/N by the hair for acting like a spoiled brat back at the car. Or even better, I could just smash their heads together and call it a day. They did seem to enjoy each other's company so much after all.

I just don't understand why is everyone acting like a drama queen all of a sudden. They'd been fine when I came bursting through the door yesterday morning, shouting cries of help in between hurried breaths. Sure, they'd been shocked at first. Who wouldn't? After all, I may or may have not spent a couple of weeks like a fugitive, without even bothering to let them know where I was that whole time. But they'd been quick to recover.

Namjoon and Yoongi had been the first ones to take over the reins, making sure I was okay before proceeding to ask me all about what happened. I'd managed to squeeze the events of the last couple of days into a hot minute, struggling to catch my breath when my throat started to dry. Almost everyone had rushed to help.

Everyone except Jin.

It was like he'd closed in on himself, building invisible walls around his frame and not letting any intruders from breaking through them. He'd silently made his way up the stairs, and locked himself up in his room, the rest of the guys way too distracted to properly pay him attention. After that, I hadn't seen him at all.

"You're staring, Jungkook."

"Oh, sorry hyung. I just got...lost in thought I guess."

"Are you really okay?" Y/N asks him again, hints of concern still visible on the creases of her forehead.

"He's fine. Stop brushing his mane so much." Namjoon pipes in.

"Did you just call me hairy?" Jin's voice raises in a pitch on the last syllable.

I feel my lips tug at their corners in amusement. Even though the memories of the past events lurked around the corners like uninvited guests, everyone seemed to be trying to bring things back to normal again. Just like the old days, playing around with each other, cracking dumb jokes once in a while. It's like I can finally breathe in peace and not worry about what fate has stored for me in the future. I have everything I want and everything I need and that's all that matters for now.

It's not long after the sun has made its wide arch over the sky, painting its canvas with strange mixes of colors. Time passed with a mind of its own, not bothering to wait for my silent prayers to cherish these peaceful moments just for a little longer. And neither did the hunger. My stomach had been whining over the last thirty minutes like a newborn baby and it wasn't intending on keeping it down anytime soon.

Thankfully, Yoongi has already taken care of that, attracting our attention with the clink of a spoon on a glass of water. "Dinner's served, fellas." He announces before taking a seat on the head of the table. We all scramble forward, abandoning whatever we were doing to take a curious look over the table.

And sure enough, it did not disappoint.

There's not an inch of bare surface as the table overflows with numerous dishes, all sorts of mouth-watering assortments and delicacies laid out like a true work of art. I don't even know where to land my eyes, the sight suddenly too overwhelming for my poor food-deprived stomach. I'd been so caught up with things during the day that I hadn't managed to give the little guy the right attention.

From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Y/N's figure standing right by the table and drinking it all in.

Poor baby must be so hungry after all she went through.

I slap a hand over my mouth even though none of the words made it past my lips. If she ever heard me calling her that, she would punch me right in the face.

And just like that, as if she'd pried her way into my thoughts, her eyes flicker to mine and hold their stare. She notices the hand that still covers my mouth and raises her eyebrows in confusion. I pretend to scratch my chin and let my hand fall back in its place, followed by a wink I send in her direction.

She rolls her eyes and unceremoniously takes a seat.

Not letting this golden opportunity slip past my hands, I sneak my way over the crowd of boys rushing to get their hands on the food and sit right next to her. As soon as she notices my presence, a smug grin creeps its way into her features. "Missed me, Koo?"

"Kind of but don't get too full of yourself, " I reply softly.

"Oh I'm about to get full alright, " she says, eyeing a medium cooked steak with a predatory look.

"Hyung, did you really make all of this?" Taehyung asks through a mouthful of something. Bread, most likely.

"I sure did." Yoongi unconsciously puffs out his chest as he fills a glass of red wine.

"Liar. I totally saw you order from the catering service, " Hoseok accuses the poor guy, earning nothing more from him than a devilish grin disguised by the glass he lifts to his mouth.

Eventually, everyone joins the circle and the sounds of conversation are quickly replaced by the clinking of spoons, chopsticks, and glasses. The food was really that good. In between bites, I throw constant glances at Y/N, sat by my left side, but she seems too absorbed in the honey-covered pancake to pay me any mind.

I discreetly tug at her sleeve and drag her hand under the table, intertwining our fingers together. I use my thigh to support our linked hands and she abruptly stops chewing. I can't help the subtle smile that threatens to make its appearance on my face and by the looks of it, she's trying to hide it too.

Totally unbothered, I turn back my attention to the plate in front of me and stab my fork into a piece of asparagus while my other hand's thumb starts tracing smooth circles into her skin. Then she does something I really wasn't expecting. She disentangles our fingers and stretches her palm before laying it facedown on my thigh.

Caressing it.

I feel like I'm about to die right there and then. And if that wasn't enough she looks straight ahead with her lips twitching in amusement, not even throwing me a glance and somehow that's better 'cause I don't think I would be able to keep myself from squirming beneath her heavy gaze. My whole body tenses and I reach for the glass of water to cool myself down. My little game had backfired.

Just when her hand begins its ministrations, tracing meaningless patterns that grow close to dangerous areas, my eyes clash with Jimin's. He narrows his eyes at my uneasiness and then drops his glare on a spot under the table, staring at it for a moment too long. Did this guy have X-ray vision or something?

"You're holding hands, aren't you?" He states without a care in the world.

I choke on my water while Y/N quickly lets go of my thigh and proceeds to plaster a huge smile on her face. "You might wanna have to slow down with the wine, Jimin-ssi. It's getting to you."

Her remark still doesn't stop all the heads around the table from turning in our direction. I take advantage of the situation and clear my throat. "That reminds me, I know we haven't really talked about this seriously so I guess it's time we did." Y/N whips her head on her right and glares at me so intensely that it feels like she'll pounce on me and rip my throat out.

My glare on her doesn't falter either. "Do you want to go to your room and cry about it?"

She scoffs and links her arms in her chest.

"Hey, what's the matter with you two? I thought we went over this." Namjoon switches his attention from one to the other, his sense of protectiveness already taking hold of his judgment.

Y/N relents. Just barely. "Fine. This idiot over here told me that none of you is against us being in a relationship together but I'm not completely convinced. And I'm not even sure what will PD-nimm say about this. Call me stupid all you want but this is not a children's game. I want to know if I'm making anyone uncomfortable 'cause, to be honest, I don't know if I can live with that knowledge." Her breath hitches on that last part. Her words had gone lower and lower in timbre til by the end of it, even I could barely make out what she said.

I feel a pang in my chest. She was saying the truth and I was one of the people that had no doubts about it. I'd seen it beforehand how it pained her to say those words, how insecure and troubled she'd felt whenever it came to this particular topic. There's nothing more that I wanted to do except for taking that burden from her and putting it on my own shoulders.

"Y/N, you should've figured out by now that we would never do such a thing, " Jimin says quietly. One of his blinding smiles lights up his whole features and it's weird how contagious it is because I slowly feel myself smile too. "As long as you're happy, it doesn't really matter who you choose to live your life with. Right?" His eyes stop by each of the guys in a half-circle, demanding their affirmation.

"Yeah, sure, " Jin says and stretches his arms high above his head. "I mean they can have kids for all I care."

"Hyung, what the hell!"

A series of protests follow after that, each one louder and more incredulous than the other. I sneak a look at Y/N and sure enough, her eyes are crinkled at the corners, observing the scene with mild amusement.

I almost melt into a puddle right there.

"My point IS, " Jin continues. "I have no objections and I don't think anyone else has either."

Y/N smiles endearingly. "Thanks, hyung. I owe you one."

"You sure do, " he fires back. "I'm expecting a new bag by tonight."

That seems to put her gears working and then she's wincing painfully, features twisted into a look of guilt. "Hate to break it to you hyung but my credit card is disabled."

"Yeah mine too, " I chime in. "It's been like that for a while."

"Oh right." Namjoon looks as if a realization dawned upon him and his eyes grow twice the size. "I totally forgot about that."

"Forgot about what?"

There's not an ounce of sheepishness when he says the next words. "Your credit cards. I'm the one who disabled them."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N

After a long session of arguments and incredulous outrage, Kim Namjoon had been forced into explaining every itsy bitsy piece of information that he apparently had been keeping from you. You had been listening intently at every word that made it past his lips with deep concentration, stopping occasionally to stop yourself from slitting his throat but in the end, you had finally managed to get the gist of it. He had disabled your credit cards so you would not be able to go anywhere and he could be sure you would remain within the country. That's right. This boy/man had it all figured it out. Who were you to compete with his 148 IQ?

You sigh once again and bury your face deeper into the pillow, seeking comfort into the soft material for a change. You couldn't believe Namjoon had played the both of you like puppeteers in his skillful hands and how exactly he had done that was beyond your comprehension. You had so much to learn from that shrewd son of a-

The door knocks. You don't bother answering. Whoever it was, they better saw that you were trying to sleep and left you alone. Careful footsteps sound across the room and make their way into your ears. Then, the bed slightly dips down and another weight joins in.

"Can you even breathe like that?"

You lift your head the slightest bit, letting the air fill your lungs before dropping it back down with a loud thump.

A chuckle.

Your curtain of hair is suddenly tucked behind your ear as Jungkook's face gets in view, his head tilted adorably to the side as he looks at you with wide eyes. "What's wrong?"

You lean your cheek into his palm. "Nothing. I just missed laying down on my bed."

He smiles at that. A stray hair escapes his own ear and gets into the way and you resist the temptation to mirror his movements. The heat in your body rises tenfold when Jungkook scoots closer and lays down by your side. It's a sight you can't seem to look away from; his cheek mushed into the pillow with the dark locks falling carelessly across his forehead and nose, yet they still can't hide the boyish sparkle in his eyes. And those same eyes dip down to the expanse of your lips. You know he's looking at them because you're doing just the same and then you're both leaning closer and closer-

"Wait," he pauses.

You freeze, worried if you'd been too straight-forward and force your hormone-driven body to stop acting with a mind of its own. Jungkook rises from the bed and tip-toes his way to the door, careful not to make a sound.

Curiosity now makes you turn around and lay on your back, observing his delicate movements with newfound interest.

He smirks and abruptly swings the door wide open in one swift motion. Six pairs of eyes are left staring at the both of you in utter shock. You don't know whether to laugh or cry at Jimin's crouched position by the threshold (he'd obviously been trying to eavesdrop with his ear stuck to the door), Taehyung's identic stance or the other guys leaning in to have a peek of their own. Even Namjoon had joined in for heaven's sake.

"Jungkook-ssi!" Jimin squeaks, a little bit more excited than necessary, even though you weren't completely sure that was the case. "We were just about to call for you. We're going on a yacht trip tonight. PD-nimm invited us. Ok, that's it." He laughs nervously and scurries away, dragging the others by their necks.

As soon as the door shuts, you explode into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. "What was that?!" you gasp for breath and Jungkook is quick to join you, the sound of his melodious giggling, music to your ears.

"We caught them red-handed, " he says and locks the door.

Locks it.

Twice.

The laughter dies in your throat. He notices your change of mood and quickly explains himself. "Just to make sure."

"For what, though?" you challenge him.

This time the devilish grin is crystal clear on his face and you swear you can feel your stomach do a backflip.

"Don't play dumb, " he says in a low voice.

"Ok, I'm sorry."

His eyebrows jump all the way to his hairline. "That was fast."

You fold an arm under your neck. "Yeah, I mean you can be intimidating sometimes."

He slowly makes his way back to the bed with an angry pout and this time he tucks himself under the covers. "Stop mocking me."

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "Sorry, can't help it when you're so cu-" He silences you when his mouth crashes into yours with surprising force but it soon slows down into something more gentle and delicate. The soft flesh of his rosy lips caresses yours with a breathy sigh and it's all you can do not to melt into goo. Suddenly things start getting a little more heated, and the covers aren't exactly making it any easier. The sweat makes your clothes stick uncomfortably into your back and you try to shake it off but Jungkook beats you to it, grabbing a handful of the material and violently throwing it to the ground.

You've never seen him so desperate with desire, completely given in to the thoughts you were sure had been occupying his mind for a long time now. Because yours was already a mess of limbs, touches, and sounds. You'd missed feeling his skin against yours, missed raking a hand through his beautiful dark locks and giving them a light tug. That only seems to spur him on because now not only was he touching you with his hands but his torso also kept driving you higher into the mattress, desperate for some friction.

You involuntarily gasp, pulling him into you impossibly closer, until you were sure that there was no space between the two of you.

The kisses start getting sloppier as he moves his attention to the sensitive skin of your neck and grazes his teeth lightly over it. The feeling has you arching your back in pure bliss.

Your hands find their way sneaking under his shirt to feel the expanse of his muscles flexing under your touch. He suddenly lifts himself up just so he can look straight into your eyes and there are so many unspoken emotions that fleetingly pass between the both of you that you feel yourself drown in the depths of his beautiful onyx orbs.

No words.

None needed.

He smiles hesitantly and lowers himself back down, each forearm at the side of your head, re-attaching the burning skin of his lips onto yours and this goes on until you lose all sense of time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

JUNGKOOK

It's been a while since I've felt so good. The warm breeze gently swaying the boat (or more exactly, the yacht), the calming crash of waves onto the shore and to top it all off, the moon has peeked its head behind the clouds, standing in its full glory. And it was red!

At first, I thought my mind had been playing tricks on me but then, sure enough, everyone was pointing at it and I felt lucky to witness such a rare thing in all my twenty years of living. It made this whole thing even more special and we made sure we enjoyed it to the fullest even though we were warned to protect our eyes. Screw it, I said to myself. You don't get to experience something like this every day.

I frown as soon as the natural phenomenon comes to an end. The edge of the celestial object slowly starts lighting up until its whole surface goes back to its original color.

I flick my eyes to the boys sitting down in a circle around me, carefully checking their reactions and somehow, hers seems to stand out the most, with her lips turned down at the edges. It looks so cute on her I can barely hold myself from scooting closer and gifting her with a death hug.

"Hey, Jungkook your hair's gotten really long, man, " Hoseok says while examining it closely.

"He needs a haircut." Yoongi states.

"NO!" I yell and my voice mixes with another just to find out that Y/N had yelled the same thing. I hold my snort.

"Wow, they're such love pigeons."

"I know, right?"

I brush past the mocking remarks with a smile of my own and focus my attention on her for now. I can't stop my mind from replaying the glimpses of memory from moments earlier. The bits and pieces refuse to leave me be.

"Hey, Y/N why don't you play that new song for us?" I drag my eyes away from her and look at the outstretched Guittar Jin is offering her way. My eyes almost pop out of my sockets.

A song?

She raises her palms up in protest. "It's just a demo-"

"Aww c'mon, do it for your boyfriend," Taehyung whines while gesturing at me and there's nothing she can do except for accepting the musical instrument and placing it atop her lap.

"Don't laugh, " she warns and I almost do.

Then her whole posture changes and she scrunches her eyebrows in deep concentration.

Twinkle in your eyes

Brighter than the sun

An imposed lie

Triggering the gun

You said don't be scared

Please don't let me go

I was unprepared

For your change of soul

Steal me

Thieve me

Please don't you leave me

Craters of my heart filling up tonight

Trick me

Tease me

Say that you need me

Turn to the moon and tell her I'm alright.

She finishes the song with a dumb smile plastered on her face but I'm not sure which one of us looks the dumbest right now.

She's caught us all off guard. I can see it from the way the others' mouths hang open like a fish out of water.

I shake my head in disbelief. She really sang it perfectly. It's like every sound struck a chord within me, plucking at the strings of my soul instead of the guitar. I open my mouth, ready to speak but nothing makes it to the surface. I'm left utterly speechless.

"That was good," Namjoon admits with a lopsided smile hanging on his face. "That was really good."

The others chirp in their hums of agreement. Yoongi seems to notice my hopeless condition and snaps his fingers at them. "Why don't we go get something to eat?" The boys catch on fast and rise to their feet, ready to provide some alone time for the both of us.

When the coast is clear I stand up and move to the edge of the yacht, leaning onto the frame to take a look at the glittering waves.

"I'm guessing the song was for me, " I state matter of factly and to my surprise, she doesn't deny it, nor mock me for it but simply nods in agreement.

I already was aware of that.

There was no love triangle.

There were not even angles, for that matter.

There was just me, an arrow pointing in the same direction, like a compass, always heading north.

Always to her.

I clear my throat. "Look, I know the things we've been through are terrible but there's actually a bright side to them." I stare straight ahead. " I don't think I would have ever been able to confess to you if we hadn't been on the verge of death. That's what pushed me- knowing that I had nothing to lose, that I would never have the chance to say it again."

She's now looking at me and I turn my head immediately, locking my eyes with her enrapturing ones. "So, who cares if we suffered along the way? All that matters is that we have each other now and that's that."

She throws her arms around me, capturing me in a hug so warm, I melt right into my bones. "I love you, " she whispers against my throat and I whisper the same words into her ear.

But it's not that easy.

I grip her waist with both hands and lift her off her feet. Before she has time to protest, I give her a strong push and throw her into the sea, clothes and all. A loud splash echoes in the air, followed by the screech that gets drowned by the water swallowing her whole.

She emerges into the surface a mere two seconds later, coughing and spluttering like a madwoman. "JUNGKOOK! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU STUPID BASTARD! JUST WAIT UNTIL I COME OVER THERE AND BEAT YOUR ASS YOU LITTLE-"

"What's going on?!" Taehyung comes rushing out and as soon as his eyes land on Y/N's flailing hands, he groans. "Aw come on man, did you really have to throw her like that?"

I smirk in reply and not a moment later my hands are latching onto the railing and my body is soaring into the air. The cold water greets me like an aphrodisiac, the adrenaline already coarsing through my veins. I swim to the surface and stick my head up, smoothing the water from my hair. I look at Y/N and she's suddenly laughing. Laughing like crazy.

I smile at the moon and I can swear that the moon smiles right back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A massive thank you to everyone who stayed till the end. I cherish every nice word and remark and even though I know my work is not one of the best ones out there, it feels good to know that there are people who enjoy it. It really pained me to say goodbye to this fanfic and there were moments when I just felt like quitting but now it’s complete and ready to sail off. thank you once again. and see you on other projects in the future ;)

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imacrowcawcaw · 4 years

Text

Treasure Ch. 2 (Penntin)

(Ch. 1 on Tumblr) (AO3)

Summary:

Quentin fucks up a spell (Penny may or may not have also helped/hindered).

Quentin is the reason why everything smells like the Bog of Eternal Stench and Penny can't see.

Quentin’s run-amuck brain brings all sorts of problems to the table.

Quentin is starting to make Penny feel funny in his chest (and his pants).

Fuck Quentin, man.

Notes: Okay so I have been binge-watching like a crazy lady and gotten up to the middle of season 3 (which is FAST for me) so this is almost hard to write, knowing things that have happened… but also fun to take it back to a simpler time, in a way. I’m putting this roughly at episode 10 era, I think? Some stuff has happened, but they’re not on any time-entrenched quest right now.

Also, the spell they did? Google translate (eek). I tried my best, but I couldn’t find something that seemed fitting in any online spell books so I made my own to suit my purposes. So sorry if you speak Azerbaijani and this is wrong, I just kinda picked a language.

One last thing: I am still not sure about updates. I know I posted this chapter about a week after the first, but that’s because I’m on spring break and am, as I have said, OBSESSED. The next chapter might be tomorrow, it might be two weeks from now, I don’t know. But I’ll try not to let it hang too long!

@penntin

-----

“Uh, should we go to the infirmary?”

Penny sighed and rolled his eyes. “No, Q, we should not. Let’s just go through the rest of life blind and unable to smell anything other than that god awful-”

“Okay!” Quentin snapped, surprising him a little, and looked up from where he was kneeling at Penny’s feet. “Look, I’m sorry that we somehow messed up. I don’t know what it was. But whatever the hell happened, clearly we need to stick together. So can we just, I don’t know, get along for a bit?”

“Hmm…. No.”

Quentin huffed but shakily stood up anyways, keeping a hand on Penny’s body the whole time; Penny thought about knocking him in the jaw when he felt fingers running from his knee all the way up to his ribs. Instead, he let Quentin do it - he liked breathing clean even more than personal space - and tried to ignore the odd shiver that ran up his spine.

They grudgingly maintained contact, by arm or back and once by Penny yanking Quentin’s stupid hair, as they gathered up their belongings. Quentin was still a nervous, confused mess as he babbled mentally about what could have gone wrong. Penny grit his teeth at the panicked monologue and answered each suggestion that popped up in his head with a terse “no”, “maybe”, “don’t be dumb”, or “better not be”.

----------

The girl at the infirmary sighed when she saw them. Penny couldn’t say he blamed her; both of them had been in here. A lot. Together, usually. Because they either got hurt by each other or on the other’s behalf.

“What is it this time? I don’t see any blood…”

Penny grunted. What a fucking day. At least there wasn’t any blood, he had to concede (though, if he had to spend another minute with Quentin…). He followed her along to the room he usually ended up in, dragging Q by the wrist until they reached the bed.

She busied herself with something on a clipboard while Penny stood with a death grip on Quentin’s hand. Any looser and the guy would start pacing like a madman, he could feel the desire in his head. And wasn’t this just fucking annoying? It was over, they weren’t gonna lose each other, could he put his goddamn wards back up?!

“So, what’s the problem, then?”

She blinked expectantly, and Penny had the brief thought that she was very beautiful. Tilted eyes, dark hair, a pointed, pale face and very pink lips.

Quentin gave him an odd, almost alarmed look - like he was worried about something Penny had said - but he ignored it. He hadn’t said anything at all; Coldwater must have hit his head hard when he tripped like an idiot.

“This one fucked up a locator spell,” he said, jerking Quentin’s wrist in his grasp so the guy lurched forward a bit. “We’re fine if we’re touching, but the moment we let go there’s this smelly, blinding fog. Also, I think he hit his head cause he won’t stop looking at me.”

He didn’t like how she was looking at him -- like he had just started speaking Tagalog instead of English. Were those really such weird symptoms? But he knew he hadn’t been speaking gibberish, at least, because Quentin nodded in shameful agreement. Though, he had heard a ‘your fault, too’ somewhere in his head.

“Shut it, asswipe,” he hissed. Then he turned to address the confused lady again. “Look, can you just get Lispon. Please?”

Since when do you say please.

Penny glared at Quentin and sat back on the bed, not bothering to hide his smirk as Coldwater stumbled and landed half on top of him. They both half-heartedly shoved at each other and settled onto the hospital bed, legs pressed together. He reached for a glass of water that had materialized on the bedside table and accidentally ceased contact, the smell hitting so sudden he could barely contain the bile in his throat.

Quentin squealed - fucking squealed - and Penny looked back at him with a start -- he was completely clear. Every greasy strand of hair, every zit on his ugly mug, the shocked look in his watering eyes. They stared at each other and the smell stopped and the fog melted away, like a shitty adventure movie at the peak of it’s quest; treasure located.

He scowled and knocked their knees together, bringing the rest of the room back into light. Lipson came hurrying around the corner, heels clicking, and Penny sighed. He didn’t feel good about this.

----------

“Interesting. Very interesting.”

Penny wanted to murder Dean Fogg. He wanted to murder everyone. He especially wanted to murder Quentin, but that wasn’t really new. Right now, though, Dean Fogg in particular could go fuck a hornet’s nest along with his loathed “roomie”.

He grit his teeth against what was very clearly a bad steal of cinema doctors’ lines and shifted in the wooden chair. It creaked in the most irritating way - purposefully tortuous, awkwardly long and broken up, never quite coming to an end - and he was ready to murder the entire faculty right now.

The only thing that kept him from leaping up and snatching the tumbler of whiskey out of the Dean’s hands, if nothing else, was the fucking magical chain wound around his and Quentin’s wrists. Cause that was just the icing on this foggy, shit-scented cake.

“So you don’t know what you did?” the Dean asked them.

Penny bristled. “Man, if we did, do you think we’d fucking be in here?”

Fogg shrugged and raised his hands in a placating gesture -- Penny hated that. He hated people trying to make him forget his anger when he was justifiably upset. Hated it. Especially when it was people with more power trying to tell him to be satisfied with the little they gave him.

Answers. For once at this fucking school I just want a straight answer.

Yup, agreed. I wouldn’t have asked like Penny but, man, we just want answers. What did we do?

Had… had Q just responded to him? To his thoughts? That had never happened -- it wasn’t supposed to happen. Sure, Quentin’s thought diarrhea leaked all the time but HIS was not supposed to. He was the tightest warded psychic on this fucking campus! Loose-lips over there shouldn’t be able to break into him.

Oh shit, really? Sorry dude, I’m not trying to.

He had thought that it was just Quentin’s shitty wards, but if they were having a mental conversation here, as in a two way street where he was fucking exposed, this was not good. At all. It was also very annoying -- like, seriously, universe? Of all the people to be chained up to and mentally communicating with, it was Quentin?

“Ahem, Penny?”

He blinked back to concentration as the Dean leaned forward and stared at him through those kinda-creepy-kinda-cool glasses. Why the fuck was everyone staring at him? He was not at fault here!

Well, I mean… you messed up too. But I don’t know. Did they say something?

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Quentin!”

The Dean sat back in his seat. “Glad you’re back with us, Penny. As I was saying, do you recall which spell you were trying to cast?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. He just wanted to sleep. “It was some locator, I can’t really pronounce the name. We were trying to find a lost item? We chose one of my scarfs that’s probably hidden somewhere in the Physical Cottage. Eliot keeps stealing my shit.”

“I think I know what it was.”

Suddenly, heels clicked, and the voice of a certain sexy, blonde professor spoke up behind him. She laid a hand on Penny’s shoulder and he settled into it, privately happy to have her there. Sure, she was still a professor, but she was cool and helped him out (and she really was beautiful. He would sleep with her even if it wasn’t for school.)

Oh Jesus, dude, seriously? Sunderland?

Quentin-

“Spell for revealing the truth. Həqiqəti üzə çıxarmaq üçün yazın. It’s in Azerbaijani, and they had to translate it themselves if I’m not mistaken.”

Quentin nodded his head and his ridiculous fucking hair swung with it like a car wash. Penny grit his teeth. This whole situation was fucking fucked! Even the sight of Quentin sitting next to him, having to hear his thoughts, feel his hand chained to Penny’s -- it was driving him insane. The guy’s very existence could grate on his nerves, sometimes (especially when he was being an idiot and ruining life for Penny).

“Well, let’s go over your notes and see if we can find the problem that way.”

His wrist was roughly yanked as Quentin shuffled around in his bag and got the notebook they - 80% Penny - had been doing the work out of. There were pages of scribbled symbols, diagrams, and translations; hours and hours of work sent down the drain by an idiot.

Might I remind you that, if you did eighty percent of the work, you’re eighty percent at fault here?

You know what? If this little dude wanted to talk back to Penny in his own fucking head then fine.

Might I remind you, I can make your miserable life even worse with a snap of my fingers?

Quentin huffed and turned his head. Coward. Penny could feel thoughts from Quentin’s mind inside of his own, but he decided to ignore them for now; there were more important things to do. Like removing the leech on his arm.

“Oh,” Professor Sunderland gasped, and Penny looked up.

That didn’t sound like a good oh. If this was permanent - or if the cure cost him even a hair off of his ass - Penny was going to kill Quentin.

You keep saying you’re going to kill everyone. Can you just hurry up and do it already, then?

Keep talking smart-ass, I’ll get you when you least expect it.

Blah blah blah. I know what you’re thinking! You can’t get the one up on me now.

Penny scowled and turned back to Sunderland. He could feel Quentin gloating in his head but he ignored it, again, for the sake of maturity and his sanity. The notebook was propped up against a globe on the Dean’s desk and they all peered at it, reading first the original spell pasted in and then the scribbled translation next to it.

İtirilmiş şeyi tapın.

Gözlərimi bağlayın.

Düşüncələrimi istiqamətləndirin.

Məni uydurmalardan müəyyənləşdir.

İtirilmiş şeyi tapın.

Find the one that was lost.

Unblind my eyes.

Guide my thoughts.

Deter me from falsities.

Find the one that was lost.

“The one?” Sunderland’s voice came, next to Penny’s right ear, and he looked up at her.

She looked nervous, which caused some anxiety to roll in his own gut; Quentin was feeling the same. Ten times as intense, of course, cause he was Quentin, but… the look on her face was bad. The whole situation was fucking bad. Quentin was so dead.

“What’s wrong with it?”

She looked at Quentin. Fogg came around the desk and poured two fingers of brandy into two cups, handing one to each of them. They looked at each other as the chain around their wrists - keeping them together, per Lipson’s assistance - rattled.

This is bad if he’s giving us alcohol to cut the news with.

“Your translation was off by one word, but it was a big one,” Sunderland began, her hand tightening on Penny’s shoulder. Somehow, it was no longer comforting -- he shrugged her off. She continued slowly.

“The spell was used by ancient explorers to find lost items, usually in cursed areas. The goal was to set their sight on the one thing, and the one thing only, so they wouldn’t get distracted by sirens or other treasure or anything like that. What you did… instead of sending yourself on a hunt for a scarf, you sent yourself on a quest for “the one that was lost”. Somehow, you set each other up as the objects, and now the spell will try and deter you from anything that separates you.”’

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amintyworld · 5 years

Text

A Sick Day- Sanders Sides Oneshot

Summary: Remus gets sick, and the others take care of him. Little did they know what was to come.

TW: Yelling, sickness, throwing up, being physically weak, concern, hugs, slight cursing.

Hope you enjoy, my fellow fanders!!!! - Minty

Remus coughed as he pulled the trash bag blankets around him closer. He felt sweaty and cold, a box of tissues near his bed. He knew he shouldn't have spent so much time in Roman's realm, but it was extremely hilarious to see him run away from his own castle as it hopped to eat him. Remus laughed at the thought as he was thrown into another coughing fit.

His throat was so dry it hurt to cough, and he wished, no, begged for water. Anything to get some relief. He snapped his fingers, sniffling, and sighed in frustration when nothing happened. Of course, why didn't he remember?! His powers were useless when he was sick.

His eyes widened quickly as he leaned over his trash can, vomiting. When he was done, he placed his head back on his ripped pillows, shivering. No one was coming for him, no one even visited him.

He'd just have to tough it out, like always.

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

Roman felt weird, like something was...off. On any other normal day, Roman would've just ignored it, or pass it off as exhaustion. But for some reason, he couldn't shake the feeling.

They were all sitting in the living room - Patton and Virgil on the floor, cuddled together in a blanket, with Logan sitting opposite, deep into his book. Roman hopped off the couch, looking around, trying to find the cause of his distress.

"What are you doing, Princey, you're missing your favorite part!" Virgil asked as he noticed Roman looking around, confusion clear on his face.

Roman didn't answer.

"Uh, kiddo, is uh...is something wrong?" Patton said, Virgil's comment drawing his attention from the movie. Logan glanced up from his book at the commotion.

"Something's…" Roman trailed off for a moment. "Something's wrong, I...I know something's wrong, but I...I don't know what."

"It could just be paranoia." Virgil offered, shifting uneasily on the floor. Patton and Logan glanced at each other for a brief moment, both slightly confused themselves.

Logan placed his bookmark in his book, closing it. "No, Virgil I think it might be more than that." Patton sat up, curious. "It, well, it could be… Remus."

"W-what?" Roman asked. "Do...do we have twin powers or something?"

Logan sighed, punching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "No, Roman. You two used to be together, remember?" He said. "It is possible you two share a sort of… sense. After all, you were both once the same side."

"Wait a minute, Specs." Virgil interjected. "Are you saying that Roman can sense when something's wrong with Remus?"

"It's theoretically possible, yes." Logan said.

"I have the force…" Roman whispered, looking at his hands in awe.

"No, Roman that's not-" Logan huffed, one hundred percent done with Roman's nonsense.

"Is Remus in trouble, if Roman's feeling like this?" Patton piped up.

"It would be worth testing that theory." Logan said. "Good idea, Patton."

"So, are we gonna summon him, or…" Virgil asked, standing up from his place on the floor, the movie well forgotten.

"That would be ideal, yes. Roman?"

"On it, Calculator Watch!" Roman said, raising his hand, summoning the stinky side.

He arose, trash bag around him, hunched over but stood up straighter when he noticed he had an audience. "Oh, um, h-hey guys!" He said, voice slightly cracked. "What's...what's up?"

"We were just checking to see if you were alright, Remus. Roman had a feeling you were not." Logan said, inspecting the side.

"Oh, no need to worry about me, Specs! I'm completely fine!" Remus smiled, a bit too wide.

"Are...are you sure, Rem?" Roman asked, concern clear on his face. "You don't look so good."

"Of course, Ro Bro! Anywho, since that's all settled, I'll be going now!" Remus said, desperately trying to sink down with no avail. He felt everyone's stares on him. "Please, don't worry, really! I'm-"

The room started spinning, sending Remus to the floor. Patton, like any good, fatherly side, rushed over to help, Logan not far behind.

"Guess he wasn't okay." Virgil added, wanting to help but not knowing how.

"Guys, how do we know this isn't one of his tricks?" Roman asked, concerned of course, but cautious.

"Does this look like a trick to you?!" Patton yelled. "He nearly cracked his skull open hitting the floor! No matter our thoughts and opinions, we're all Thomas's sides. Remus, he's… he's a side just like us. And...and right now, he NEEDS us."

Roman nodded briskly, walking over to his brother's side. He could almost see young Remus, challenging him on crazy adventures where they'd both end up bruised. His smile and laugh as he fell flat on his face more times than he could count.

"You're right." Roman said looking between the two, standing over his brother. "How can I help?"

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

Remus felt tired.

So...incredibly...tired….

His head throbbed, and he struggled to shift his position, to move. What...what happened? He groaned at the sudden, uncomfortable sensation.

"Don't move, okay?" A warm, comforting voice echoed. "Just… just breathe."

His eyes snapped open as his head stung. He clenched his teeth at the pain, and directly above him was Logan, drawing out any chance of an infection. Patton walked in with a fuzzy green blanket and a thermometer. He heard background noise from the kitchen as Logan set down his soaked cotton ball to hold his head steady.

"Do not move as much as possible, Remus. It will only make things worse."

Patton laid the blanket up to his chin, engulfing him with warmth. Before Remus could question why they were helping him in the first place - after all, he was a dark side - Patton shoved the thermometer in his mouth.

"MHPH!"

"Under the tongue, Remus." Patton commanded sternly, the thermometer beeping after a minute. He pulled it out as quickly as it was shoved in, checking the temperature with wide eyes. "101.1! Dammit, Remus. You're running a fever."

"But, Patton-"

Logan quickly bandaged the small wound on Remus's head quickly, moving off near the top of the couch and disappearing out of sight. Patton ran off quickly as well, mumbling something about a 'cool cloth'. Remus was very well beyond confused. The comforting warmth of the blanket wrapped around him turned fiery, and he kicked it off, his stomach rumbling in a somewhat familiar way. His eyes widened, and Virgil dove for the trash can to catch it.

"Jesus Christ that was close." Virgil mumbled, holding Remus's hair back as he puked. "Give a side some warning next time, okay?" Virgil smirked. When he was done, Virgil wiped his mouth and laid him back down. He sat next to him, keeping him company.

Roman walked in a few minutes later with some saltines and a can of ginger ale. He even put Remus's favorite straw inside - the thick washable green straw that went through a black plastic mustache. After setting the snacks on the couch side table, he rubbed Remus's back lovingly, giving him comfort. "Oh Rem, you stubborn being of a brother…"

"Well, I can't take all the credit, Ro." Remus croaked, joking, feeling at ease, the fear that they might've ignored him, or worse, tie him up, thinking it was all a facade, gone.

They...they were really helping him. After everything he's done, to not just him, but to...to Thomas.

When Patton placed a cold cloth on his head and pulled up his blankets again at Remus's request, Remus felt tired. A sort of comfortable, good, tired.

They all sat around him, just as they were before he arrived, Remus between Logan and Roman on the couch. Remus, for the first time in a, well, long time, felt loved. So much love he felt he didn't deserve, yet, here they were, taking care of him.

A dark side.

Remus felt like… like he was home. The same feeling he used to get when Roman would show him all the wonders he created, or when Deceit would comfort him when he used to cry. He felt so comfortable, so tired, he yawned, ready for a nap.

His eyes were just about to close, when-

"Remus Insanity Sanders! Of all the stupid places to go when you're delirious, you just HAD to go to-" Deceit burst through the door, annoyed, and very angry, to find the most unusual thing he had ever seen. He stopped right in his tracks, completely silent, taking it all in. It was weird, he would admit, seeing Remus cuddling with them.

"H-hey, Dee. Long time no see, huh?" Remus said nervously. Deceit shook away the sight in front of him. He walked up, hands on his hips.

"Yeah, well it looks like just 'no see' at all. You scared me, Rem! I walk in to check on you and you're just gone!"

"That would be our fault, Deceit. Roman seems to know when Remus is hurt or in pain, so we just wanted to check in, but didn't realize the state of his condition." Logan said, looking up from his book for the second time that afternoon. This has to be some sort of record for Logan at this point.

"Well," Deceit said. "I'm glad you've helped him, at least, this time."

"Wait…'this time'?" Roman asked.

"Yeah, he usually just goes to tough it out in his room. I check in on him, help him out the best I can, but I can only do so much in the Darkscape." Deceit stated, arms crossed. "SOME of us can't summon medical supplies on a whim."

Roman looked at his brother in disbelief. "Why didn't you come to us, we could've helped you! We...we could've…" Roman trailed off.

"It's...it's okay, Roman, really." Remus said. "I'm a dark side."

Those two words ignited a flame in Roman, mostly because his own brother was suffering in silence because...because of a stupid rule! He stood, delivering a message none of them would ever forget, for what he said next changed the Mindscape forever.

"Dark Side, Light Side, why does it matter?!" Roman yelled. "At the end of the day, we're all Thomas's sides, aren't we?!"

"But...but didn't you make-?"

"And you know what, Deceit?! I wish I'd never opened my big fat mouth and made them in the first place!" Roman yelled at Deceit, shocking him silent.

"We NEED each other, I don't think we can survive without each other. Despite what we think is best for Thomas, we're the only family any of us got." Roman looked around the room. "So I say, who cares about some freaking rules?! No more dividing us, when we should be uniting us." He looked back to Remus with a small smile. "Let's give this a try, okay?" Roman held out his hand to Remus, who smiled, taking it and pulling him into a hug.

"Okay, brother." Remus said. "Let's try."

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darthchic · 4 years

Text

Character War: Zoro vs Sanji

Trying to put my own bias aside, and because I’m bored here in quarantine, I was thinking about how I could fairly break down parts of Zoro and Sanji’s characters and compare them. I want to see if I can analytically decide which character is more well realised or well written (just because there’s always that rivalry between both the characters and the fans, you often can’t help but ask yourself these kinds of questions).

EDIT: OH, and SPOILERS if you wish to read this and are not up to date

If the question was “Who’s the more popular character?” though, Zoro wins hands down, no contest.

So, I broke the two characters down into categories:

– Design

– Fighting Style

– Fights/Achievements

– Coolness

– Backstory

– Gag

– Development

Design: Neither Zoro or Sanji have designs that particularly stand out to me, not within their own universe or in anime in general. Seriously, think of some crazy-ass looking characters you've seen in other anime and Zoro and Sanji simply pale in comparison. Heck, they pale in comparison to some of their fellow crewmates (Usopp, Chopper, Franky, Brook etc.) and over time their designs have probably been... how to put this... made more attractive as time goes on? Cause you know, you gotta let the female fans have some eye candy too. And with attractiveness tends to come more “normalness” (not a word but whatever) cause you can't go too crazy with the overall design in case it becomes off-putting. The only thing that really stands out for Zoro and Sanji respectively is hair colour and eyebrows.

– Still if I had to declare one of them the winner... I'd have to say Sanji, just for his more 'unique' eyebrows. We've seen plenty of anime/manga featuring characters with hair colours that match every colour in the rainbow, so it's commonplace for someone to have green or pink hair and no-one really bats an eye. Peculiar eyebrows however are less common, although not rare (as far as I can tell), but for anime fans, it's something I think people still instantly notice more so than a character's hair colour. So.... point to SANJI! But barely, and it’s not much of a win.

Sanji 1/0 Zoro

Fighting Style: Again, neither a sword fighting style or kicking fight style is exactly uncommon, but I am edging towards Sanji's fighting style and I'll try to justify why, even if it is due to my own personal preferences. To me, sword fighting is often the go-to 'bad-ass' method of fighting, cause, come on, SWORDS ARE COOL (can't help but think about the overwhelming popularity of Pokemon Sword vs Pokemon Shield for example). Sword fights/fighters are iconic and that’s the issue at times for me because I feel like I've seen enough sword fights at this point, and not just in anime. So, while they're fun, their overexposure makes me appreciate something different a lot more.

– To me, Sanji's style has a bit more 'kick' to it (oh yes!) and his reasons for using a kicking style are a bit more unique and interesting as well (being that he’s a cook and can’t damage his hands, the tools to his craft). His style is fun to watch, requires a bit more imagination when designing his moves, but it also has a strange kind of elegance to it which I appreciate. Not that sword fighting can't look elegant (Hello, ‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’), but I love that people often joke that some shots of Sanji make it look like he could be a dancer which I find amusing, because it’s true. Plus, I admire the fact that he's the only Straw-hat that fights without either a magic power/devil fruit or a literal weapon (though he has now grown accustomed to the raid suit, so…). But, for the majority of the story so far, the dude has just used his legs and that’s it. And is the 3rd (or fourth if you count Jinbei now) most powerful member of the crew, and still impressively strong overall amongst a massive cast of crazy powerful characters. Also, dude can fly. Actually fly. He can fight in the skies, sing “Walking in the Air” and it would not seem completely ridiculous. So, people reading this may not agree, but, point to SANJI!

Sanji 2/0 Zoro

Fights/Achievements: I feel that most fans prefer Zoro's fights as he tends to take on the second strongest villains of each arc (with Luffy obviously taking on the strongest), which is automatic epicness. I know some fans even argue that Zoro would have no problems taking on the strongest villains in Luffy's place anyway, though I would disagree simply due to the fact that if Luffy were weaker/equal in strength to Zoro then why would he even be captain? The guy who's gonna be the Pirate King can hardly be weaker than one of his own crewmates, it ain't right!

– Anyway, Zoro's battles tend to be straight-up badass one-on-one feats of strength, while Sanji's can be a mix of badass and sometimes plain goofy (thinking of Sanji vs Mr. 2 here or Sanji vs Wanze). And I do think Oda makes it clear that Zoro is the more powerful of the two, making his wins a lot more impressive, awe-inspiring, and show how physically far he’ll go in order to succeed (man should really have no blood left in his body). For me personally though, I often found many of Zoro’s fights a bit dull, like his fight with Mr. 1 for e.g. (ha, ironic), and when I watch his big battle with Kaku, while I like Kaku as a character, I had a hard time taking the image of Zoro fighting a sword-wielding Giraffe seriously. Sanji fighting a wolf with a moustache often looks goofy as well, but at least wolves come across as a bit more threatening (unless you have been on a scary Safari tour o__O…).

– Alas, I would give Zoro the point for fights simply because I know how much the fandom appreciates them and the effort he puts in, BUT.... as for achievements... Maybe I'm being sneaky with this, but for me, while Sanji's fights maybe aren't considered as iconic as Zoro's, his actions towards helping the crew solidified Sanji's usefulness to the crew as not only a fighter but a tactician, and without him at a certain point, there wouldn't be any epic Zoro fights to appreciate. Sanji's rescue of the crew in Alabasta was pretty damn awesome, the fact they wouldn't have even reached Alabasta in the first place if Sanji hadn't gotten a hold of the Alabasta eternal log pose is hilarious, his saving of Usopp and Nami in Skypeia, his enabling of the Merry to escape without being blown to smithereens in the Enies Lobby arc, it's all just undeniably awesome. And to me, just as equally iconic and important as Zoro's fights, sooooo... I'm calling it a TIE!

Sanji 3/1 Zoro

Coolness: HAHA! Ok, come on, I love Sanji, but Oda's portrayal of him can get a bit ridiculous at times and sometimes rob him of his dignity, whereas with Zoro, Oda really doesn't humiliate him that much. He's usually always cool and epic and never seems to leave a negative impression in the eyes of fans. So, no question about it, point to ZORO!

Sanji 3/2 Zoro

Backstory: Ok, maybe it's just me, but I don't think many are gonna argue that Sanji has the better backstory? There's just more of it, it's better fleshed out, it establishes his character relationships and motives far better, it's just... better? Zoro's backstory perhaps is still to be further developed, but as it stands...

– Zoro = Wants to become the greatest swordsman because of a promise he made to his dead rival/childhood friend. Nice, but doesn’t feel very original or special. Where did he come from before all that? Where/who is Zoro's family? Why did he want to be a swordsman in the first place? Cause it's cool? It just leaves me feeling annoyed because there’s these gaps and things left unanswered within his story and I can't tell if Oda's even going to give us any answers! But with a possibility that Zoro is from Wano, maybe something is eventually going to be explained? Still, I feel like Oda needs to be careful he doesn't make a repetitive tragic backstory, cause I worry that at some point he's going to run out of ideas on how to make each new backstory more uniquely depressing than the last, to the point where it's gonna be a 'been there, done that' kind of deal. Or maybe he’ll actually reveal that Zoro has a DUN-DUN-DUN living mother. I mean, that’s rarely done in this series, so that would be pretty shocking.

– Sanji = Born as a quadruplet (still so weird to me) to a royal family, kind mother but douche-bag father. Mother dies saving Sanji's humanity because said douche-bag father violated mother and children by tampering with them before birth in order to make his children into sociopathic weapons. Sanji grew up emotionally and physically abused by father and brothers because he had kindness and compassion, and the abuse got so bad that he was even locked in a jail cell with an iron mask on his face because his father was ashamed of his existence. Mother, of course, dies, leaving Sanji with only an older sister to turn to, who could only be nice to him in secret and laugh at him in public. He decided to become a chef during imprisonment due to his mother giving him the only praise he had ever received and he enjoyed making her happy. Finally escapes douche-bag family thanks to decent sister freeing him, but only after promising to never admit he was related to his douche-bag father, further destroying him emotionally. Next, the ship he worked on was destroyed in a tidal wave, killing all his friends at the time, and left him alone on a rock with little food and a pirate who recently kicked the crap out of him. Went months without food only to find out that the pirate he hated had given him all the food, forcing him to cannibalize himself to survive. And all this happened before he was just 10 years old. So, from then on Sanji grew up with a fixed dedication/appreciation for food, but a clearly messed up self-image due to years of abuse and being told he was a failure by his biological father. Not to mention the man who saved his life, while a good man at heart, kinda has a messed up moral compass of his own, and kinda f**ked up Sanji's head in his own way (seriously, Sanji can't bring himself to hit a woman to save his own life cause he can't bear disappointing/disobeying Zeff, the man who actually loved him like a son? Jeez).

– For real, Sanji's story is a doozy, and Zoro's just doesn't compare (at least not at the moment). Sorry, but clear point goes to SANJI!

Sanji 4/2 Zoro

Gag: Possibly debatable again, but I honestly do prefer (and the fandom majority seem to prefer) Zoro's whole getting lost gag to Sanji being a looney tunes pervert (some of the faces Oda draws, I swear!) I don't mind anime perverts so long as they have some substance to their character, but Oda places ‘Pervert Sanji’ in some situations where you're left screaming, “NOW'S NOT THE TIME DAMMIT!” Some moments can be thrown off kilter by the perverseness and/or fanservice to the point where you're just left face-palming. Arguably, the same can be said for Zoro, especially with his wandering off and getting lost in Wano right before Luffy faced off against Kaido (not that Zoro could do much about that anyway if he hadn't gotten lost), but just how easily he gets lost is so ridiculous that it veers right around from being annoying and returns straight back to being hilarious because of how mind-boggling it is. xD So, point to ZZZZZORO!

Sanji 4/3 Zoro

Development: Once again, another debatable one. Too debatable! There's no way around it; some may say Sanji's ‘self-rediscovery’ arc in Whole Cake Island made him the better developed character (or didn’t develop him at all) and some will say that Zoro's “Nothing happened” moment is the pinnacle of character development in One Piece, and to me, too much of it comes down to preference and I find it hard to justify why one is potentially better developed than the other. Especially when there could still be further development for them to come. So.... yeah, another TIE!

Sanji 5/4 Zoro

So, there it is, I killed some great time in quarantine with this(!) Maybe there’s more ‘categories’ I could have added, but with what I came up with, I really did try not to be bias here. I do think it’s important to have a character that can hit ‘all the beats’, deliver in terms of action scenes, comedy and the emotional hard-hitting moments too. I can’t help but appreciate the male characters who are more in touch with their emotions and show vulnerability, which is what I appreciate with Sanji, and why I probably don’t connect with Zoro as much as I’d like to?

Going through all of this however has made me think that I'm actually fairer than I thought I was. No? Yes? Close call anyway.

#one piece #sanji #zoro #my ramblings #one piece spoilers

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normal-thoughts-official · 4 years

Text

A clear path

Read it on Ao3

Rating: T

Relationships: Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago, Meliorn/Raphael Santiago, Izzy/Meliorn (background), Izzy/Clary/Maia (background), Maia/Simon (background)

Tags: polyamori, open relationships, pre-relationship saphael, non-binary Meliorn, set in the future

Summary: It's Raphael's first time going to what Meliorn has dubbed "polycule game night". Just him, his partner, his partner's girlfriend, her girlfriends, and one of her girlfriend's boyfriend.One of these may have some things to say to him.

(Can be read as a standalone)

Part 2

It doesn’t feel weird.

It feels supremely weird.

Not their whole - thing. He doesn’t even mind seeing Meliorn flirt with Isabelle, or blink an eye when he sees Maia give Clary a kiss on the cheek and immediately give Simon another. He’s a vampire hanging out with faeries, werewolves and demon-hunters, what’s six people who are all in relationships with each other?

He is the one who's weird.

He hasn’t been surrounded by this many people in - ever. Even in his clan, he mostly kept to the sidelines, focused on his plans, the war, making sure everyone was safe and okay. He hasn’t allowed himself to indulge in “hanging out” with anyone, let alone such a mixed group, with a lot of people he doesn’t know.

He’s on the couch, watching everyone, taking a sip of his bloody Mary - minus the Mary - and soaking in their dynamics. He doesn’t feel like an invader, but he doesn’t feel like an insider, either.

Maybe it’s just because it’s his first time.

“You okay in there?”

He looks up at Simon, a little shocked. He wasn’t expecting to be - for the lack of a better word, noticed. Usually, when he sticks to the sidelines, people let him, and forget him in there.

Then again, Lewis has never been known for following protocol.

“What?” he asks, when Raphael’s stunned silence stretches for too long.

(Well, too long for him, anyway. Simon doesn’t exactly have a good silence tolerance)

(Then again, maybe Raphael has too much)

“Nothing, I’m just shocked to hear you say such a short sentence,” he deadpans, taking another sip of his drink. It’s an instinctive kind of reaction, to try to get people to leave. He’s been cultivating walls between him and the world for a long time now.

Not that they ever work with Simon. “Oh, I’m just warming up. You made the mistake of answering me, so the rant can start at any minute. I even have a few options for you to pick out,” he says as he sits down besides Raphael, stretching his legs and draping his arm over the backrest. He’s not in Raphael’s space in any way, though, and he knows that’s deliberate. Simon overthinks even when he’s not paying attention to it.

Raphael takes another sip of his drink, this time to hide his smile. “I see,” he says.

Simon smiles back at him, big and careless. “No, but really, are you okay? You’ve just been sitting here all night - I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that, you do you. If you’re happy with it that’s fine. I’m just not too sure you’re happy with it - you have that sour face going on - then again that’s just your usual face. Not in a bad way! It’s just that, well, you always look a little grumpy. Anyway. I guess what I’m trying to ask is, are you sitting here because you want to, or because you feel like you have to? If you just want to, I’ll totally leave, promise.”

Raphael’s glass hovers midair, his hand stuck in a non-motion. This is the thing about Simon - if he had just asked if Raphael is okay, it would be easy to say yes. He is okay. But then he feels the need to elaborate, and suddenly the question becomes much more complicated. Refined, even. And then the answer is not that simple anymore, because it’s not that easy to bypass.

It’s really annoying.

Then again, it’s not like he needs to keep finding loopholes. He’s not a Seelie. He can lie.

He doesn’t. “I’m just getting used to it,” he says. “Too many people. I don’t know- how things work yet.” Then, because he can see the way Simon perks up, clearly about to tell him to get drunk so he can unwind or something equally crazy and stupid, “and I guess it’s weird to be here with my ex,” he adds.

That’s not a lie either. It wasn’t the most important thing on his mind, but seeing Isabelle does kind of struck a nerve.

She has apologized for- everything that happened. A long time ago, too.

It’s not that he holds a grudge, because he doesn’t. He knows he has his share of guilt for letting her drag him into it. He knows he has his own sins to look at before he can judge others.

You’re a good man, he remembers Meliorn saying to him all that time ago, when they were still acquaintances starting to cross the line to friends. Way better than you think you are. These sacrifices, these battles you fight to prove your worth, they’re pointless. You will never atone to these sins, because you did not commit them.

It was so honest, so simple, that it took Raphael a while to even remember that Meliorn can’t physically lie. For one magical, miraculous moment, Raphael believed them fully, without a single reason other than that it felt right.

After that moment, it was all but obvious where they were going. The path to it had been long - taken years to complete, in fact - but it was strolled through, not fought. Somehow, Raphael didn’t even notice it happening until he had arrived here.

At game night with his partner, his partner’s girlfriend, her other girlfriends, and one of her girlfriend’s boyfriend.

Maybe it is a little weird.

“You and Izzy have seen each other before,” Simon points out.

Raphael hums, lost in thought. “Yes. Many times. But not when she’s not a shadowhunter representative, or the head of the New York Institute, or a weapons master, or our ally. It’s been years since I’ve been in a room with just Isabelle,” he says, “and we share a partner, of all things.” He lets out a little laugh, although with years of practice it sounds more like a snicker.

“You’re telling me? I have two exes here, and they’re both dating my partner,” Simon says dramatically, and still somehow not sounding serious in the least.

Raphael blinks. “You know, I hadn’t thought of that,” because he hadn’t. He always forgets about Simon’s - whatever it was - with Clary. Imagining her with any man is weird, but then again, he pretty much only got to know her after she came out. And Simon’s time with Isabelle was short-lived, even shorter than Raphael’s.

“Well, now that you know it, I bet you can’t unsee,” Simon laughs. “Two entire partners other than me, and they’re my only two exes. Our dating pool is seriously limited.”

Raphael’s lips are twitching. “Well, Maia did have other options. I guess you were just unlucky,” he reasons.

“Me? Unlucky? Impossible,” Simon deadpans. “God has always worked in my favor, this is a well known fact.”

Raphael tips his head a little bit, humoring him. “Then I suppose we’re just drawn to people with similar tastes.”

“Good line,” Meliorn says, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. They were right in front of Raphael the whole time, of course, but they have this way of making others feel like they made a dramatic entrance every time they speak. “Very smooth. Your courtship abilities have improved tremendously,” they finish.

Raphael chokes on himself. “What? I’m not courting him,” he objects, as Simon himself has a similar immortal heart attack beside him.

“Yeah, no, definitely not courting,” he continues, “I don’t even think Raphael can court anyone! I mean, not that he can’t, but I don’t think he’d try to. Well, but you two are dating, so there’s that, but I just kind of always assumed you were the one doing the courting - not that I’ve been thinking about you guy’s personal lives or anything! Really, I don’t want to know- well, not that you can’t talk about it, of course, I just-”

“I see. My mistake,” Meliorn replies, doing a little bow and leaving Simon mid-rant.

They both look stunned for a second, and then Raphael erupts into laughter. Meliorn is truly something, he thinks.

By the time he’s quieted down, there are a few tears on the corners of his eyes, and he wipes them with abandon. When his eyes focus again, Simon is looking at him like he just witnessed the birth of a star.

“What?” Raphael asks, instantly guarded.

Simon shakes his head as if getting rid of a hallucination. “Nothing,” he answers. Then, because he knows that’s way too short not to get Raphael suspicious, “I can see why you two are attracted to each other.”

A part of Raphael wants to ask him what he means by that. Instead, he looks at his drink and smiles. “Yeah,” he says, knowing the way his eyes are glinting.

For once, Simon isn’t the one to break the silence. He watches quietly as Raphael allows himself that moment of vulnerability, of truth. Something he’d deem unthinkable just a few years ago, before he started to actually see a family in his clan, but there he is.

Slowly, he comes to, turning to Simon. "I’m sorry, you know,” he says.

“For what?”

“For everything- about how things were when we first met. For being an accomplice in Turning you. For the fights.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Simon answers easily, waving it away like that moment didn’t singlehandedly ruin his life. “You were the one who let me go. I know you had been working to gain Camille’s trust way too hard to let your whole plan be ruined by some random mundane. You risked enough by freeing me.”

“I was trapped by the sunlight,” Raphael argues.

“They were leaving. You let me go and lied to Camille.”

Raphael just huffs.

Simon sighs. “Why is it so hard for you to admit that you’re a nice guy, deep down?” he asks. Then, before Raphael can think of something to say to that, “Besides, I’m the one who’s sorry. You were trying to protect your people and I almost ruined that,” Simon muses, “I put you all at risk because I was too blinded by Clary. And then myself.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, “I wouldn’t have actually hurt your sister, you know.”

Raphael closes his eyes and lets the now familiar wave of- feelings - guilt and hatred and anger and despair and love and grief - wash over him. It hasn’t become less strong, not really. It’s Raphael who’s become stronger to deal with it. Rosa is the one topic he’ll always be sensitive over, the one grudge he’ll hold with the world. He promised he’d be there for his sister. He promised he wouldn’t let her suffer like he did. And then he never got to see her again.

He remembers how, when Simon sent him the picture, the first thing he felt was jealousy. Before fear, before anger, before sadness, all he could do was hate Simon because he got to be there, with her, under the sunlight, and hear her voice.

But… “I know,” he says. Because that is also the truth.

“I know that doesn’t make it right,” Simon is quick to amend, “I should have never- It was fucked up,” he lets out a high pitched, awkward laugh. Then, after taking a deep breath, “I guess I didn’t- I didn’t understand all that was at stake for you, at the time.”

Raphael’s laugh is humourless this time. “Well, you knew shadowhunters before you even knew other downworlders. Doesn’t surprise me that you didn’t understand,” he says, knowing that he’s being bitter, knowing that he’s not being completely fair.

But Simon just smiles sadly at him. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess it was a complicated time.”

When isn’t it?. Raphael thinks of living in Mexico, poor and hungry, of him mom trying to sell enchiladas to get some food home after the death of his father. He thinks of moving to the United States, of not knowing a word of english, of shutting down and stopping to speak when he didn’t know how to say things anymore. Of people hating his language, and also the way he spoke their language. Of people hating his skin color. His accent. Of not understanding why he couldn’t greet people with a kiss on the cheek anymore. Of eating weird food. Of being made fun of for his food. Of being Turned. Of wandering the streets, crying and gripping a crucifix. Of being found. Of being thrown into a war. Of joining the clan of someone he didn’t like or trust. Of another war. Of getting his clan back after finally, finally getting rid of her. Of meeting Meliorn. Of being here.

“Yeah,” he ends up saying, “but it’s a better time now.”

Simon smiles, looking ahead where Clary, Izzy and Maia are fighting over a game of MeliUno - regular Uno, except Meliorn gets to see everyone’s cards and gives the most cryptic possible clues of what they are, and they have to figure it out. “It is,” Simon finally agrees.

There’s silence between them. Companiable, nice. Shared, not fought.

It doesn’t last long, of course. Simon stretches out his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he says, “the version of you in nicer times.”

Raphael takes his hand, and doesn’t hide his smile. He wonders if that, too, is opening a path he can stroll into.

#sh #shadowhunters #sh fic #simon lewis #raphael santiago #meliorn #izzy lightwood #clary fray #maia roberts #saphael #raphaeliorn #claiabelle #saia #isabeliorn #fics #my fics #validate me assholes

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