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jamaisjoons · 3 years

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of oleanders & honeysuckle I ⤑ knj | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 when one of your coven sisters, malise, had first mentioned your soulmate, you’d been young and unbothered - preferring to chase the elusive seduction of power. now, you’re twenty-five, and having established yourself as a powerful witch of the sisters of elysia, you've grown tired of the cold embrace of power. looking to settle down, you move to carelia in search of the one destined for you. within days, you come across the charmingly handsome apothecary owner, and warlock, kim namjoon. something about him magnetises you. but is he the one the universe has fated for you? 〞strangers to lovers au. supernatural au. witch/warlock au. soulmates au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: witch!reader x warlock!namjoon

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst ∝ fluff ∝ future smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 12k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: mentions of death, oc has a traumatic™ childhood, oc is also an orphan so mentions of parental death, brief mentions of religious persecution? (yn’s parent’s coven is destroyed by knights from a new religion), brief depictions of fighting/violence, there’s no smut in this part but namjoon is hot as fuck, namjoon in leather which needs a warning in itself, use of magic ofc, namjoon is I N S A N E and im simping for him

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: this was,,, supposed to be a oneshot but fneorifnge i’ve been so lazy and i haven’t been writing as much so in order to post something I’ve decided to split this into four parts! also sorry there’s no smut in this chapter but the next three parts all have smut yeehaw 🤩

⏤ beta read by the lovely @yeoldontknow, @nightshadevinter, @inthecrescentmoonight and @jjungkooksthighs

⟴ Series Masterlist

It’s the dead of winter. Snow crunches under your soles; the muffled sounds of your footsteps intermingling with the odd cracking branch, and crinkling leaf-litter as you navigate through the Forest of Ingredeen. The sky above you is bleak: faint wisps of smoke-grey clouds obscuring the otherwise stark, white canvas; and the harsh light causes your eyes to squint in the slightest. The thick blanket of snow that surrounds you doesn’t help; the pristine-white coating only further reflecting the brightness. Despite the austereness of the sky, life continues thriving around you. Barren skeletons of deciduous trees are juxtaposed by evergreens of pine, fir, and yew – the latter of whose verdant branches still boast succulent needles of jade and viridian. Some of them, most notably the yew trees, still bear fruits: the scarlet berries adding a splash of colour to the contrary dreary scene.

Stillness befalls the entirety of the forest, and the eerie silence only amplifies the sounds of snow crunching under your feet. The air is equally stagnant, with not a single gust of a howling gale, nor a gentle wisp of a susurrus breeze, drifting through the atmosphere. Though, that's a small blessing you’re thankful for; because even with the absence of the wind, the frigid bite of the cold settles into your bones. As a matter of fact, you’re dressed in a thick-piled winter cloak - the black material lined with fur – as well as your woollen dress and leather boots. Yet, you still feel the brisk chill kiss your skin, the surface turning icy as it prickles with goosebumps.

Curling further into the warmth of your cloak, you pull the piled fabric further around your body and continue walking through the dense thicket of trees. The quiet is strange, and heavy, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think the woodland was devoid of all life. Nonetheless, every now and then, the shrubs around you move: their foliage rustling as hares and squirrels scuttle about, and wintertime birds flit through the canopy: sweet chirps of birdsong and languid flaps of wings resonating through the air. Albeit, they come infrequently, with long, gaping silences between. But they still come, and that settles the inkling of unease that flutters through your stomach.

You’ve only just moved into the large province of Carelia; the nation nestled between the much smaller territories of Alphana and Eyres; the latter of which had once been your previous home. Of course, in spite of Carelia being a large country – abundant with diverse wildlife and vast expanses of wilderness – the population of inhabitants itself was fairly small. In fact, throughout the entire country, there were only five human settlements; a significant decrease from the almost overpopulated country of Eyres. Naturally, that wasn’t the only difference. No, here, in Carelia, magic was bountiful – the very essence of life so palpable that you could feel it thrum in the air. Not that any of that was surprising by all means. No. After all, nature was plentiful here, and as a result, it meant that the innate magic of life was equally as powerful.

Taking a deep breath, you watch as your breath fogs in front of your face, causing your nose to scrunch at the sight. You had chosen to leave your previous coven, of your own volition. It had been a spur of the moment decision, after one of your past sisters, who’d specialised in oracles and premonitions, had suggested through thinly-veiled euphemisms that you’d find your destined soulmate here. When she’d first prophesied her vision, you’d been but a young wiccan, at the tender age of eighteen, a mere two years after your initiation into your coven, and you hadn’t cared too much. Back then, the idea of love, soulmates, and destiny had been far out of your mind. Rather, your entire being burned with the need to learn, to hone your magic and see just how far you could take it.

Your past coven had been a famous one, known by the entire world as the Sisters of Elysia. It had been an elusive coven, shrouded in mystery and repute, and one that was only open to the most powerful, or promising, female witches. In fact, it had been so exclusively prestigious, that it could only be joined by invitation from the High Priestess herself; a powerful seer with the ability to seek out the potential, innate magic of a witch or warlock. Though of course, the Sisters of Elysia had only been interested in an all-female coven, and even the most powerful warlocks had been turned away. Not that they’d even consider joining, though. No, they had their own coven for that – the Brotherhood of Requiem.

Being discovered by Mardella, the High Priestess, at the age of fifteen had been a blessing, and an honour; and having been told you’d had an incredible affinity for the Destructive Arts and Alchemical Restoration, two powerful schools of magic, had been even more of a privilege. As such, Mardella, and the rest of your sisters, had taken you under their wing, and taught you all about witchcraft for a year. And then, the very day you’d turned sixteen, you’d been formally initiated into the coven.

After that, you’d spent years upon years training your two schools of magic, honing them to the skill they are today. For the vast majority of your young adulthood, you’d chased the beguiling essence of magic – learning as much as you could about the two different archetypes – and soaking every ounce of the information into the very fibre of your skin. Power was a seductive thing, something far more enticing than the notion of love, and readily, you’d fallen into its clutches. Naturally, it was only made easier by being part of the Sister of Elysia.

You see, your previous coven had been a nomadic one – and its migratory nature had made learning all the more easier – especially since at the age of twenty-five now, you’ve traversed almost the entire world, and seen more things than an ordinary witch of your age would have. At first, the vagrancy of your previous home had been exciting. You’d loved travelling the globe, visiting different countries, and learning all types of cultures while simultaneously acuminating your magic. As a matter of fact, you had craved it – and wandering about the different kingdoms had whetted your own innate wanderlust; as well as the desire to learn as much as you could.

The Sister of Elysia had been your home, and you’d loved the family you’d created – after all, the blood of the covenant was thicker than the water of the womb. Or so, you’d been told all your life. Nevertheless, despite all your attachment and adoration for your coven – you couldn’t help but find that something was missing. You see, your blood-related family had been torn from you at the young age of ten, the coven of your parents razed to the ground by Knights of the Seven Lights: a new religion that had swept through Eyres, and in the bloodbath that had followed, you’d lost everything.

Orphaned from childhood, you’d spent the next five years living in the abandoned church that your parents’ coven, Mages of Mirror Lake, had occupied when they’d still been alive. Thankfully, the Kingdom of Eyres had a warm temperate, and winters were non-existent. Hence, even though you were essentially homeless, you’d somehow survived. By all means, you’d had to forage for scraps of food, clothing, or any other basic necessities – sometimes even needing to find a neighbouring human settlement and stealing whatever you could get your hands upon – but you’d survived. Moreover, you’d even continued sharpening your skills in witchcraft, using the ruined library of the church in order to continue your schooling.

For five years, you’d lived like that. Using the school of Destructive Arts, you’d kept those who would harm you, typically members of the Knights of the Seven Lights, at bay. And using the school of Alchemical Restoration, you’d heal and look after yourself; as well as the odd human who was desperate enough for a treatment to an ailment that they would turn away from their new religion and back towards the Magic of Old. Eventually, though, you’d met Mardella, who’d sought you out and brought you back to the Sisters of Elysia. And that was where you’d found your home, happiness, and solace.

That was, until now.

In the recent years, your magic had grown listless, and you, yourself, had grown restless – until eventually, you found yourself at an impasse.

You no longer found joy in travelling, and considering you’ve travelled everywhere there was little more you could learn that way, and even less that you could discover. You’ve reached the peak of your power. You’ve spent an entire decade garnering your knowledge, immersing yourself in the seductive lure of the Black Arts, only to hit a culmination. And now, there was nowhere else you could go except down. Of course, you could always consider learning a new school of magic if you so wished to continue chasing power. Except, lately, that deep, insatiable need for it had started diminishing; the searing fire dwindling until it was nothing more than weak flames licking at your being.

You still loved to practice your witchcraft, of course you did. You’d never really lose your love for power or magic. But your hunger for it had ebbed, its cold seduction releasing you from its tantalising embrace – and the moment that had disappeared, you’d found yourself lost. For the longest time, power had been your only vice, the only thing you had sought after, and cared for. But with that thirst gone, you had no idea what to do; or where to go anymore. More than that, you'd found yourself craving for some sense of home, of belonging. You had that with your coven, of course you did. But it just wasn’t the same.

A while now, there was a small, distant part of you that craved what had been stolen from you from a young age. A family. Love. You craved a sense of belonging; the affection of a lover, and the comfort and safety that they afforded. Something that was out of your reach with the Sisters of Elysia. By all means, it wasn’t as if there were rules that forbid romance. No, of course not. It was more, with how elusive the coven was, and with the doctrine that knowledge was power, and power was prestige; it meant that while romance wasn’t frowned upon, it just wasn’t something that was frequently entertained. Especially since the Sisters of Elysia had no room for men. Though, of course, if you fell for one of the sisters, that was a wholly different matter.

Which had all been well and good when you were younger. But now, you’re older, and you no longer covet power. Rather, you yearn for a sense of security, of home, of stability.

And thus, lately, you’ve found yourself going back to Malise’s oracle; the seer having foreseen of your soulmate almost a decade ago. You see, everyone in the world has someone fated for them – the knots of destiny tied by the Moirai long before even your own grandparents were born. Naturally, not everyone who was bound together actually found each other; after all, the world is large, and the universe was rarely ever so kind. No, more often than not, soulmates could be born miles apart, or even countries apart – and as a result – very few people found love with their soulmates. That is, of course, if you’re a human with no ties to the Magic of Old.

For witches and wizards, it was different.

The natural essence of the universe – the energy that made up the Magic of Old – was what guided practitioners of the Black Arts, and it was that very power that had bound the two beings together. And as such, for witches and warlocks, it was easier to find soulmates. Easier. Magic was mysterious, and the universe very scarcely answered definitively. Oracles were particularly attuned to the cosmos, hence their ability to catch glimpses of the future. But that’s all they were, mere glimpses and vague inklings. It was very rare for a seer to be able to clearly see the future – which is why Mardella was so powerful: she was particularly harmonious with the world.

However, Mardella very rarely involved herself with matters of the heart. As the High Priestess of the Sisters of Elysia, she embodied the fundamental teachings of knowledge and power; and as such her prophecies were seldom about the frivolities of romance or soulmates. Malise, however, was another matter. Frequently, the seer would have visions about soulmates, and she could even control them to a degree – having them at will. The first vision she’d had of you and your destined lover, had been involuntary; the fortune triggered randomly. She’d tried to speak to you about it, even offering to look further into it. However, you’d quickly dismissed her. After all, back then, you hadn’t cared.

Now, though, was a completely different matter.

Thus, a week ago, you’d sheepishly slunk into her chambers, and quietly asked if she’d be able to find out more about your soulmate. Her response had been eager, and she’d conducted her divination swiftly. As usual, her vision had been vague – veiled in euphemisms and cloaked with mysticism – the universe purposely responding to her questions with ambiguous answers. All she could say was that it was a man, a warlock to be specific, and that he lived in Carelia. It wasn’t much, but it was something. The idea of moving and settling down in Carelia – a kingdom so rich in nature and magic – immediately had excitement flourishing through you. Your earlier listlessness quickly faded, and with a new sense of purpose, you’d formally, and abruptly, left the Sisters of Elysia before you made your way to Carelia.

Naturally, there’s not much you know about your soulmate – because, really, living in Carelia and being a warlock was barely any information to go off of. Nevertheless, as mentioned before, despite how large of a country it is, Carelia only had a small population of humans inhabiting it. More than that, despite the abundance of magic, there was only one coven that was still prolific in the nation: Coven of the Evening Star. Moreover, out of curiosity, and before you had moved, you’d brewed the Essence of Venus; a potion that took on the scent of your destined lover. Each fragrance is wholly unique, customised purely for the individual, and completely memorable. In fact, you doubt you could ever forget the scent.

Thick notes of a pungent scent made up the bulk of your soulmate’s fragrance. Despite the sharpness of it, it was fruity and warm; with subtle hints of rich honey and ripe citrus. The fragrance was sharp, deeply intoxicating, and incredibly comforting. The telltale scent of honeysuckles in full bloom. Undercurrents of morning dew and fresh soil cut the effluvious aroma, adding a depth of light freshness and earthen musk to it that had your stomach flourishing with warmth. The first time you smelled it, you'd completely melted into the scent - something about it calling to the very recesses of your being, and soothing your soul - and you'd wanted nothing more than to sink into it.

After that, you'd immediately found yourself daydreaming about the mysterious warlock it belonged to. Lost in your fantasies, you wondered what his name was, what he looked like, and what he was like. You wondered what kind of magic he practised, and what he liked to do in his spare time. Moreover, you wonder just why he smells the way he does - and whether the scent of honeysuckle was wholly natural to him or artificial. Momentarily, you wonder where the fresh soil and morning dew comes from too. Mainly because, none of the notes that make up your soulmate's scents are common, or ordinary. Though, that's something you're thankful for, because hopefully, just hopefully, it would make finding him all that bit easier.

Distracted by your thoughts, you don't notice the dense thicket of woodland start to thin: the space between the trees growing further and further apart; until, all of a sudden, you're thrown out of your thoughts by the sight that greets you. Out of the blue, you find yourself in a large clearing. The glade is spacious, fringed by shrubs and bushes that make up the understory of the forest. Above you, the once thick canopy has cleared up, allowing dense beams of stark-white light to flood the ground: the sky's radiance bathing over the forest floor and casting its harsh brilliance over the structure that makes its home in the middle of the meadow.

When had you reached home?

Your cottage is moderately sized, and homely, but nevertheless, a sight to behold. The roof is gabled: made up of thin, multi-shaded hues of black slate, and the walls are smooth: made up of clay and stone of varied shades of beige. Flowering vines scale the exterior of your home, from the climbing roses that frame the oakwood entrance to your home, to the branches of clematis and moonflower that intertwine together over the side walls. Trumpet vine hangs over the edge of the roof, the lush foliage draping over the large windows that peek into your home. A wooden fence encloses your land, with the only entrance a small gate that breaks up the stakes. Bushes fill the space between your home and the timber barrier, however, being the dead of winter, only a few still bloom: the large shrub of daphne in the corner by the chimney, little clusters of violas nestled between clumps of cyclamen, and the vines of winter clematis that creep over the walls.

Carelia is large, and there are few settlements littered around the wild expanse of the wilderness. Nevertheless, your home is still secluded from even the nearest community - your new coven. Most people would be daunted by the fact that you're living alone in the woods. However, you? Not so much. After all, with your proficiency in the Destructive Arts, it would be hard for someone to get the best of you. Not to mention, that you had lived by yourself in the woods from the ages of ten to fifteen. No, to you, living alone in the forest, is somewhat comforting, and nostalgic.

At the comforting sight of your home, the corners of your lips curl into a slight smile, and you begin walking down the thin, winding dirt path that leads through the gate and to your home. Getting to the entrance to your cottage, though, you abruptly stop; the smile on your face falling. A small wicker basket sits on the shallow concrete step at the foot of your door. Curiosity colouring your being, you place your own basket of firewood and food down, before cautiously pulling back the soft linen cloth that covers the contents. Seeing the items inside, however, your curiosity is swiftly replaced by surprise.

A pot of lilac makes the centrepiece, the four-petaled flowers blooming in soft shades of periwinkle and blush despite the mid-winter atmosphere. Next to the pot lies a bundle of dried lavender, wrapped in a piece of plain brown parchment and tied with silk black ribbons. A few of the desiccated petals litter the base of the wicker basket, and in spite of its dryness, the thick, piney-floral scent of the bulbs intermingle with the cloying - almost sacchariferous - scent of lilac into a delicate floral aroma. The last items in the basket are three muslin sachets that contain a mix of rosemary, sage and cloves - the bag tied shut with red thread.

Thanks to your background in Alchemical Restoration, you’re well versed in the craft of herbalism, and from your extensive knowledge, you know that all the items signify protection. Lavender for purification and healing of the soul, lilac to banish malicious spirits or malevolent intentions, and the sachets to ward off negative energy. Having only moved into your new home yesterday, you haven't had a chance to properly ward off your property, and as such, the protective charms that keep you safe are basic and easily penetrable. Thus, the gift of the flowers and herbs is incredibly sweet. If a little strange, considering you have yet to meet any of your new coven members, or even announce your arrival. Nevertheless, you don't sense any negativity radiating off of the basket. In fact, if anything, you can feel a soft aura of safety enclosing the items - the gifter having clearly cast a few more wards of protection around them.

“Hello,” a voice suddenly speaks, and not expecting it, you immediately startle. Instantly, a rush of adrenaline surges through you, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on edge, and a swell of power to flood through your fingertips. Before you can even consider your actions, lightning begins crackling around your fingertips: small bolts of bright, purple-hued sparks arcing around the pads of your digits; your magic involuntarily manifesting itself in a bid to protect you.

Spinning on your heel, you thrust out your hand on instinct, causing a large bolt of lightning to appear out of thin air. The moment you turn around, however, your eyes blow wide and despair courses through you. The newcomers are dressed in two large cloaks, their coats effectively hiding their forms from you. However, from the design of the brooch that fastens their coverings - the emblem of an intricate silver star - you know that they’re members of your new coven; most likely coming to greet you. Nonetheless, the damage is already done - your magic having flooded out of you and into the air.

The lightning bolt surges towards the two and you watch as the female’s hands move in a flash, a spell immediately slipping from her lips as she erects a shield in front of her and her partner. It appears just in time - your own magic colliding directly into the middle of the barrier. To the witch’s credit, the shield manages to deflect your attack, and the force of the collision causes the lightning to bound into the stratosphere. A large flash of blue blazes through the sky, accompanied by the thunderous sound of lightning cracking, before your magic dissipates and ebbs back into the atmosphere; a terse silence once again shrouding the forest.

The moment it disperses, the aura of power around you fades away, and your shoulders immediately tense. Clambering to your feet, “Sweet Earth Mother, I am so sorry,” you quickly splutter. Adrenaline still coursing through you, your heart continues beating rapidly and your hands turn sweaty. Though, this time, rather than fear, it’s out of trepidation: a ripple of nervousness fluttering through you. This was not a good way to greet your new coven members.

The shorter of the two, the woman, pulls down her hood, and you’re met by mesmerising, cat-like eyes and a mischievous smile, “It’s okay. I kinda startled you on purpose,” comes her coy response. Nervousness replaced by confusion, your eyebrows furrow as you regard her in puzzlement. Beside her, the taller of the two lets out a little sigh and pulls down his own hood. The first thing you notice is that both of them have identical features: the same, sharp eyes; smooth, glass-like tanned skin, and small, pouty lips. Twins, no doubt.

“Yeah, and you almost had us killed. I told you not to startle her,” he chides, causing the woman’s cheeks to puff in a pout.

“Hey! I saved us, didn’t I? If it weren’t for my shield, we’d both be ash,” she backfires. The man simply scoffs and shakes his head.

“If you hadn’t scared her, we wouldn’t have needed the shield in the first place,” he retorts. The woman opens her mouth to retaliate, however, not having a comeback, she quickly closes it.

“Fair enough,” she concedes with a simple shrug of her shoulders.

“Purpose? Test?” you reiterate softly, breaking their little spat.

“Well, yes, of course. Your reputation precedes you, ____. I just had to see if the famed Witch of Ruin was truly as powerful as the rumours made you out to be,” the woman replies. Hearing her words, you let out an awkward chuckle.

Witch of Ruin.

Gods, you hadn’t heard that in a while.

You’d first gained the epithet during your years in Eyres, after you’d single handedly defeated a small group of the Knights of the Seven Lights, who’d come to ‘purge’ you of evil. After that one event, you’d gained infamy as the Witch of Ruin; rumours of a child born of chaos, lightning and fire, spreading through the country. As a result, more and more groups of the Knights would come looking for you, and one by one, they would fall at your hand. By all means, it had all stopped once you’d been rescued by Mardella. Nonetheless, being initiated into the Sisters of Elysia, of all covens, had only caused your fame to grow. After all, it was a coven that prized themselves on power.

Still, you haven’t heard that epithet in a while; having stayed your lust for power a while ago, and falling more into your love of Alchemical Restoration in the recent years. In fact, if you were being completely honest, you’d tried your hardest to put the nickname, Witch of Ruin, behind you. Mainly due to the fact that it had been born out of your need for survival. Not to mention, your anger, and what could only be considered ‘teenage angst’, over your circumstances from when you were an adolescent.

The man in front of you bows, the movement breaking you out of your reverie abruptly. “I’m sorry about my sister. I’m Min Yoongi, and this is Yoonji. We’re here to welcomeyou to the coven,” he apologises. Then, straightening out his back, he glares at his twin pointedly through the corner of his eyes, “Welcome. Not test,” he mutters. His words cause Yoonji to pout and stick her tongue out.

Eyes blowing out, you quickly shake your head while waving your hands dismissively. “No, no. It’s okay! Would you like to come in?” you ask as you gesture towards your home. This time, it’s Yoonji who shakes her head.

“Usually, we’d love to. But we don’t have long today. We need to get back to prepare for the coven meeting tomorrow,” she replies, her mischievous smile curling into an apologetic one. “We’re only here to drop off your initiation robes, as well as let you know that your formal induction into the coven will take place tomorrow, at evening’s twilight, in the Lunar Grove,” she continues.

Eyebrows knitting together, you cock your head to the side, “Lunar Grove?” you repeat, causing Yoongi to smile at you kindly.

“Someone will come collect you around dusk and bring you to the meeting spot,” he supplies, and you nod in understanding.

“Do we not have a building to convene in, or…?” you find yourself asking before you can stop.

A tinkling laugh slipping from her lips, Yoonji shakes her head. “The Coven of the Evening Star reveres nature first and foremost. We feel that buildings impair our ability to connect with both nature and the universe. So, while we aren’t a nomadic coven, we do not have an official church building to worship in either,” she explains. Mouth forming a little ‘o’, a ripple of sheepishness washes through you. You remember Malise telling you something about that, however, in your excitement to move and settle down, you hadn’t completely researched your new coven; a blight on your part.

Sensing your mortification, “Don’t worry about it too much. Our coven is very different from your old one, so I’m sure it’ll take you a while to get used to everything anyway. In the meantime, we’re here to help you with whatever you need,” Yoongi speaks, his voice low and comforting. A grateful smile curls onto your face as you thank him.

“Not to mention, everyone is excited to meet you. It’s all anyone can talk about lately. About how we’re not only going to meet a previous member of the Sisters of Elysia, but that she’s also joining our new coven. Not only that, but she’s also the fabled Witch of Ruin… I can assure you, that almost every member of the coven will travel to view your initiation tomorrow,” Yoonji chuckles lightly. The moment her words slip out her mouth, you let out an awkward laugh, and hearing the sound, Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“It’s not that daunting, don’t worry. And Yoonji is exaggerating, I doubt that many people will turn up,” he says while pointedly glaring at his sister through the corner of his eyes. Before she can say anything, however, he’s cutting her off, “We really must get going now, though. We still need to complete preparations for your initiation,” he continues before thrusting a neatly wrapped bundle of fabric towards you. “These are your Initiation Robes for the ceremony tomorrow. We look forward to having you join us,” he finishes.

Taking the bundled material from him, you smile at him once again, “I’m looking forward to joining,” comes your reply. With their business complete, the two of them turn on their heels and begin walking away. All of a sudden, however, a thought springs to mind, and you quickly call out to them. Immediately, they stop and turn back towards you, a look of interest on their face. With a wave of your hand, you gesture towards the wicker basket still laying on the porch of your door. “Did you send me this, by any chance?” you ask as you point towards your gift.

The twins glance at each other, a knowing glint flashing in their eyes as they silently communicate amongst one another. Simply watching them, you await their response. You don’t have to wait long, however, because a few short moments later, they’re both turning back to look at you; their heads moving eerily in sync - almost as if they’d planned it.

“It’s not from us, no. It’ll be from Namjoon,” Yoonji explains.

“Namjoon?” you dumbly repeat.

“Mhm. Kim Namjoon. He’s a warlock in our coven. He specialises in Herbalism, and he runs the apothecary that supplies us with the ingredients we need for our rituals, spells or potions. It’s probably a gift welcoming you to the neighbourhood,” she explains. For the umpteenth time today, confusion colours your face.

“Neighbourhood...? I didn’t think I had any neighbours,” comes your response. The land you own now, once belonged to the human settlement that borders the Forest of Ingredeen. When you’d purchased this area of land from the chief, he’d tried to explain that it was a secluded property and that a powerful coven lived in the Forest - and one that could take offense to a strange witch moving into their territory. Of course, once you’d explained that you were soon to join the coven yourself, you’d assuaged his fears and he’d easily bequeathed the land to you.

“Oh, theoretically, you don’t. But Namjoon’s home is the closest to you; he’s about a ten, maybe fifteen minute walk north-west from here. The rest of us live deeper in the forest,” Yoongi explains, his hand lifting as he points towards the general direction of Namjoon’s home. Eyebrows quirking, you turn your gaze back down to the gift as you look at it in interest.

“It’s a wonderful gift,” you mutter under your breath. Despite it being the middle of winter, the pot of lilacs are in full bloom: the velour petals still brightly coloured despite their pastel hue; the leaves still succulent, and a vivid shade of pine-green. Not to mention that the quality of the dried lavender is some of the best you’ve ever seen. Fully dessicated lavender usually tends to lose some of it’s scent, and with the deep, dusky-mauve shading, you know they’ve had all the moisture removed from them. Nevertheless, the camphorous scent of it is still strong; wafting into the atmosphere in soft waves.

“He’s incredibly skilled in what he does,” Yoongi responds, his voice laced with pride. Then, after a short pause, he continues, “He’s similar to you. He was raised by the Brotherhood of Requiem, but moved here and joined the coven, hmm… maybe two and a half years ago?”

Stilling at his words, your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline. If he was part of the Brotherhood of Requiem, he’d have to be incredibly skilled as a warlock; not to mention powerful. Mind casting back to Malise’s oracle, your heart flutters at the discovery. Could Namjoon be the one you’re destined for? Suddenly, you find yourself itching to go look for him. Though, of course, you wouldn’t know unless you smelled him. And it’d be a bit odd to walk up to a stranger and simply sniff him. Especially if it turned out he was not your soulmate. Still, his gift was sweet, and generous, and that in itself is enough of a reason for you to go meet him.

“If that’s all?” Yoonji asks, her words cutting you out of your thoughts. Startled by her voice, you snap your head back up and grace them both with a sheepish smile.

Scratching the back of your head, “Yes! Sorry to keep you,” you quickly respond. Neither of them say anything. Rather, they smile kindly before once again turning around and walking away. You watch their backs retreat, until their figures disappear into the dense woods that surround your home. Once they’re no longer in sight, you bend over and pick up both your gift, as well as your basket of firewood and food, before entering your home.

As soon as you’re inside the warm comfort of your cottage, you let out a soft sigh. Considering you’re about to leave soon, in order to go thank Namjoon for his gift, you leave on your heavy cloak. Instead, you pad further into your home - dragging in the snow on your boots with you - and into the kitchen. With a casual wave of your hand, the two baskets begin floating in the air before following your figure, and with another flick of your wrist, the firewood sails through the air and towards the fireplace; your food sorting itself out into the pantry and fridge.

Left with only the gift, you carefully place the basket onto the wooden counter of your kitchen island. Gently, you pick up the lilac pot, and the moment you touch the ceramic vase, your eyes widen. A soft thrum of magical essence flitters through your fingertips - travelling from your extremities and down your limbs, only to settle into your core. A sensation of comfort fills you, as well as a spark of energy, and immediately, you know that both spells of protection, and vitality, have been cast upon the pot. The former is obvious - the protection wards boosting the natural magical essence of the lilacs. The latter, however, probably explains just why the lilacs are still in bloom; their life force is most likely supported by the magic cast into it.

Thoughtlessly, your fingertips graze up the side of the vase, along a plump leaf, and towards a supple petal. Another spark of magic jolts through you, and as the calming sensation washes over you, a smile unknowingly curls on your face. It wasn’t often that witches and wizards could imbue feelings into an object; and even less often into a living organism. He really must be a powerful wizard. As you place the vase onto your windowsill, a small frown mars your lips. How are you going to pay him back?

Suddenly, a thought crosses your mind. Swiftly, albeit carefully, you empty out his wicker basket and once it’s empty, you wave your hand; summoning small empty mason jars and your own blend of different tea leaves. The items soar towards you, and with another wave of your hand, they precisely land onto your kitchen counter. Eyes flicking over the different tea leaves, you promptly decide on three different blends - your most favourite ones. In the first one, you scoop in your special blend of cardamom, nutmeg and cinnamon: the laden scent of aromatic spices diffusing into the air and flooding your senses as you fill the jar. The second one, you fill with a blend of chamomile and jasmine; a soft aroma of a floral fragrance replacing the previous, headier one.

With the first two done, you turn your attention to the third, and final one. A mischievous glint flashes in your eyes. Lavender and oolong. A fine homage to his own gift. Opening up the last container, you fill up the last mason jar: the delicate, fresh scent of the lavender intermingling with the sweet, elegant one of oolong. When you’re done, you quickly shut all three jars, wrapping the neck of the containers in a satin ribbon, before attaching a manila label to them. Summoning a pen from one of your drawers, you quickly scrawl on the names of the teas in blue ink.

Once your thank you present has been packed, you cover them with the cloth and grab the handle of the basket, before making your way back out. As you step into the cold once more, the gelid air kisses your skin, causing a soft shiver to run down your spine. Huddling further into your fur coat, you begin walking in the general direction of Namjoon’s home. You’ve no idea what it looks like, or how far it realistically is. Yoongi had mentioned a ten, perhaps fifteen minute walk, but considering you didn’t know the forest very well yet, you weren’t sure how long it would take. You hope it really is a ten to fifteen minute journey. And, of course, that you don’t get lost.

Thankfully, after faithfully sticking north-west, it’s not long before you happen upon what you believe to be Namjoon’s home. The glade of the property is similar to yours: the dense woodland clearing up into an open expanse. In the middle, and a little towards the left, sits a quaint little cottage; with a gambrel roof made of dark brown wood shake, and stone walls of greyed-white to match. Unlike your home, this one has large square windows around the entire property, allowing thick shafts of light to filter through. Yet, despite the panes of glass, you can’t see into the building: the thick cotton curtains blinding your view of the interior.

The area surrounding the cottage is wild, and almost overgrown - in a strange, coordinated way. An organised mess if you would. Small trees skirt the property, growing near the moss-clad, brick fence that separates the forest from Namjoon’s own land, while smaller brushes and shrubs litter the spaces between. One section is covered in flowering perennials, another with potted plants and herbs, and the last third with low growing blossoms. Eyes widening at the sight, you take in a deep breath, only to be filled with a renewed sense of vigour.

Breath hitching in the middle of your throat, you look at the property in surprise. The magic in the air is thick; so palpable that you feel the very cells of your being begin to vibrate with power. Not only is it potent, however, but also pure - the quality of life’s essence so refined that it’s almost suffocating. In fact, you have to physically keep your magic in check, lest it fritz and grow out of your control. Taking a deep breath, you purposely subdue your inner magical core - dulling it towards the vigor of the energy in the air.

Fingers clenching around the woven handle of the basket, you grip it tighter as you step onto the property, a faint ripple of nervousness fluttering through you. With the potency of magic in the air, you desperately hope you don’t trigger any protective wards surrounding the land. When you safely cross the boundary between the forest and Namjoon’s home, your shoulders tense and you immediately come to a halt. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge, and a nervous edge tinges at the corners of your being as you wait for something to happen.

After a few moments of silence, you let out a relieved breath. The wards, if there are any, have accepted you. With that knowledge, you begin your descent down the brick path, from the outskirts of the property and towards the arched front door. Stopping by the dark wood entrance, you lift your hand and gently rap your knuckles on the surface, before stepping away as you wait for an answer. Long, drawn out moments pass, and when you get no response half a minute later, a frown descends upon your lips.

Is he not home?

Lifting your fist, you knock once again; and just like before, you don’t get an answer. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, you shuffle to the side and towards a window. Then, stepping onto the tips of your toes, you attempt to peek into Namjoon’s home; looking for any signs of life. However, with the curtains drawn shut - only a sliver of an opening between the two, thick pieces of fabric - you barely have a sufficient view of the inside. Shoulders drooping, you let out a deep exhale and flick your gaze down to the wicker basket in your grasp. If he’s not home, there’s nothing you can do about it.

Disappointment settles into your bones, and for a moment, you consider abandoning your gift on his front porch - just like he’d left his. The thought only lasts a brief moment, however, because suddenly, you hear a small commotion from the back of his home. Startling at the muffled cluttering noise, you raise your eyebrow. Maybe he ishome. Intrigued by the noise, you follow after the sound. It leads you around the perimeter of his home, and getting towards the back, surprise colours your face as you see another building behind his cottage.

The emporium is fairly small, almost the size of a large shed, and made of a beautifully preserved walnut: the timber panelling still ripe with its rich colouring. Walking further towards the building, and to the front, you come to a halt at the entrance. Large panes of glass fill up the front wall, but in spite of the glass, your view of the interior is partially obscured: the dark-tinted, translucent surface preventing your complete view into the shop. Two large pots of firs sit on either side of the door, and just above the tips of the tree, hangs a banner made of dark linoleum. ‘The Blackthorne Codex’ it reads; the letters gleaming in burnished shades of bronze under the stark brightness of the sky.

Steadily, you approach the shop, and placing your hand on the brass handle, you push it open. The tinkle of a bell chimes through the air, and the moment you enter, you're assaulted by an onslaught of sensations. A balmy heat greets you immediately, the warm air rushing past your face and immediately heating up your numb skin. Following the heat is a sacchariferous fragrance: notes of a fruity tartness flooding your senses. Currents of a warm, woody scent coalesce with the stronger aroma; the piquant spiciness of what you know to be cloves weaving with that of dried black cherries into an amalgamation of intoxicating aromas. The incense is strong - almost overpowering - and wholly unique: perhaps a blend of his own concoction. It's so potent in fact, that you can almost taste it on the tip of your tongue: tinges of a pungent sweetness dyeing your tongue and causing you to salivate.

"Sorry, I'll be with you in a moment." The deep voice comes out of nowhere, the sound breaking the silence and causing you to jump.

Taking heed of the voice, however, you walk further into the shop, simultaneously letting go of the door handle and allowing it to shut behind you. Once you're into the heart of the shop, prickles of heat sting at your skin, the chilled surface quickly warming up - and from the magic charged in the air, you have no doubt it's thanks to some warming enchantment. Carefully placing your woven basket onto a table near you, you unclasp the heavy cloak around your shoulders before quickly shrugging it off and draping it over your arm. With the thick material off of your body, you let out a sigh of relief - your body quickly cooling down.

More comfortable with the temperature, and with the man - who you assume to be Namjoon - still keeping you waiting, you take a moment to look around the shop. Neatly stacked shelves of mahogany line the entire perimeter of the shop, the surfaces chipped and faded with age. Nonetheless, despite their worn appearance, they're not decrepit. Rather, they're antique - with a rustic feel to them. Glass containers of all sizes line the shelves: large jars of preserved tree barks and animal products occupy the top shelves, smaller sized flasks of various herbs, botanics and minerals fill the next few ledges; and little vials and ampoules of oils, extracts and essences litter the final racks. Each one is faithfully marked with a black label, the nature of their contents scrawled in gold ink.

Hand sketched drawings are strewn across the very tops of the walls, the drawings depicting a variety of beautifully illustrated, and incredibly detailed, plants and flowers. Looking closer at them, you can even spot labels, along with scrawled annotations, pointing out to different parts of the plants. They’re vivid, and colourful: the dazzling hues contrasting with the darker shades of the interior. Turning your gaze, you carefully peer at the counter that separates you from the back of the shop.

Similar to the rest of the store, it's made up of wood, with a white marble tabletop that offsets the walnut wood of everything else. One half of the wall behind is filled with a stack of drawers, each one labelled in black ink; the other half holding a door that undoubtedly leads to the back. A cash register sits in the left corner; the till glinting in polished shades of murky gold and varnished oak. On the opposite side, sits a small book rack stacked with aged tomes and grimoires. Next to it, are a few pestles and mortars, some made of marble while others are made of stone - each one with its own specific purpose.

As you’re admiring the interior, a man suddenly slips out from the back. He appears out of nowhere, causing you to jump. The moment you spot him, however, you freeze. He’s tall. Incredibly so. And his size is only emphasised by the corded, bulging muscles that fill his frame. He’s dressed in black leather trousers - the tight material clinging to his full thighs - and with each step he takes, you could swear the material threatens to tear. Moreover, the snugness of his trousers only emphasise the length of his legs: the toned limbs seemingly going on forever. His top is simple, a plain white t-shirt. Yet, despite the simplicity of it, you find yourself swallowing thickly.

Similar to his trousers, the cotton fabric of his shirt clings to his broad chest, highlighting the smooth, yet prominent, outline of his pecs. From how taut the material is, the garment straining against his upper body, you can spot the faintest hint of his dark nipples - the sight of them causing your cheeks to tinge with specks of heat. A simple leather apron is tied around his hips; the hide straps emphasising his trim waist and slender hips. Gaze travelling further up his body, your eyes lock onto his, and this time, you gulp audibly.

He is, perhaps, the most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes upon.

And you’ve traversed the world.

Tanned skin - as smooth and delectable as dulce de leche - glows under the ivory light filtering through the window. It casts a halo of argentate around him - the silvery hue juxtaposing his delicious, honey-kissed skin in the most enchanting way. Dark locks of silk, as black as coal, fall in choppy waves around his face, the front tips kissing his eyelids, and the back ends grazing the nape of his neck. They frame his face, accentuating the elegant slant of his cheekbones, the gentle slope of his nose, and the angled definition of his jaw. His eyes are hooded, and heavy, with a deep-set crease at the inner corners that only highlight the sharpness of them.

Irises of obsidian peek from between his keen eyes, the inky depths freckled with specks of silver and jade that only add to his allure. Eyes glimmering, he radiates an air of power: waves of soft, yet dominant, energy seeping off of his being. If you didn’t know better, you would say his aura practically thrummed with the same lively essence of the very forest itself. Sucking in a sharp breath, the cloying scent of black cherries and cloves floods your senses as you lock eyes, and effortlessly, you sink into his dark gaze.

A look of surprise paints his features, and in a once over, his stare sweeps over you. In one, long glance, he takes you in in your entirety, from the very tips of your boots, to the top of your head, and then back onto your face. His features are carefully stoic as he observes you - his eyes giving nothing away. But then, all of a sudden, it changes. A strong, thick eyebrow rises, and sensual, voluptuous lips pull into an impish, lop-sided grin. It’s wolfish, practically predatory, and almost as if he could devour you whole with a single look.

In two, swift strides, he moves closer, and pressing both hands onto the edge of the marble counter, he grins at you. The movement draws your attention, and your gaze immediately flicks from his eyes and towards his sinewy arms. So enamoured by his handsomeness earlier on, you hadn’t noticed the identical tattoos that brand each of his biceps. Three bands make up each tattoo. The outer ones are simple - embellished with geometric patterns and alchemical runes - and made up of the blackest ink; the colour so rich, it soaks up the light into its ebon void. Framed by the two simplistic bands, however, is an inner one - this tattoo more intricate, and vibrant. Thick, unassuming vines of pine-green form the bulk of the design, with supple foliage of fern-green and moss engraved between.

“Hello. Welcome to The Blackthorne Codex. I’m Kim Namjoon.” The man greets. His voice breaks you out of your trance, and instantly, your eyes lock back onto his. Then, features twisting into one of apology, “Sorry about the wait. I had a slight issue with some stock in the back. How can I help you?” he asks.

For a moment, you simply stare at him, your mind completely blank, and your face effectively illustrating it’s emptiness. His voice is low, and baritone, with a mellifluous undertow that threatens to drag you under and drown you in its beguile. Of course, the enchanting lure of his magic does nothing to help. Neither of you say anything, Namjoon waiting for you to reply, and you waiting for your mind to process the Adonis-like man in front of you. Eventually, and once you realise he’s staring at you, your brain finally kicks itself into gear.

“Oh. Oh!” you quickly splutter out, your cheeks tinging with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t… expect you to be so young,” comes your reply.

Arching an eyebrow, “Young? I’m twenty-eight years old,” he replies, a playful inflexion to his voice as his smirk deepens. Finally getting a hold of yourself, you simply roll your eyes, a coy smile curling onto your own lips.

“Hmmm. Well, when I heard about the man who lived in the forest, and was dropping off welcome gifts at my house, I couldn’t help but assume he was an old man,” you counter. That has Namjoon pausing.

“Wait. You’re ____? The Witch of Ruin?” he asks, his strong eyebrows disappearing into his hairline as he gazes at you in incredulity.

Taken aback by his surprise, you cock your head to the side, “Is that such a surprise?” you ask while lightly waving him off. Scoffing in response, he simply shrugs.

“I just expected you to be…” he begins, only to halt as he ponders his next words. After a short pause, “More menacing,” he finishes.

Once again, you roll your eyes, before waving your hand dismissively, “Well, I guess we both had incorrect assumptions about each other.”

“Touche,” Namjoon laughs. “So, what brings you to my humble apothecary? Need ingredients so soon, already?”

Placing your basket onto the counter, you slide your present over to him. “Hmmm, no. I come bearing a thank you gift,” you reply. Namjoon chuckles, and for a moment, you feel your abdomen stir with a fuzzy warmth. The sound of his laughter is enchanting: deep, rich, and thick like honey as it drips from his mouth like viscous ambrosia. His eyes flash with mirth, and he angles his head down to look at you through his sharp, hooded eyes.

“A thank you gift in response to my ‘welcome to the neighbourhood’ one? Your parents must have raised you right,” he jokes. His tone is light, and airy, and you know he means well - realistically knowing nothing of your past. Yet, you still find yourself gracing him with a rueful smile. Though, there’s only a faintest hint of bitterness laced through it.

“They did. Up until their final moments,” you respond. At your words, Namjoon immediately halts, and visibly, you watch every single one of his muscles locking; the corner of his jaw simultaneously twitching.

Face immediately dropping, Namjoon glances at you for a moment - his eyes carefully guarded, and giving away none of his inner thoughts. Unconsciously, you bristle; in preparation for his pity, and the meaningless words that tend to fall out of people’s mouth when you speak of your traumatic childhood. They mean well. You know they do. But it’s been close to sixteen years. And you’re tired of the constant condolences and well wishes. Tired of the way they walk on glass around the issue of your parents. After all, you’ve long since come to terms with it.

To your utter surprise, however, Namjoon’s face immediately relaxes, and his - what you assume to be trademark at this point - wolfish grin once again creeps onto his pillowy lips. “Well, then I’m sure they’re happy you’ve retained your manners then. Or they’d probably rise from their graves and haunt you,” comes his breezy response. That’s it. No ‘I’m sorry’s’ or sympathetic looks, or that tone people take when they find out you’re an orphan. Just a lighthearted joke. Perhaps, to someone else, he may seem insensitive. Perhaps, someone else would be offended. But you? You appreciate it more than he could, or would, ever know.

“Hmmm. Considering my mother was a necromancer… you’re right. She’d definitely be the type to raise herself from the dead just to lecture me on societal etiquette,” you deadpan - your voice purposely flat as you retort. Eyes bugging wide, Namjoon splutters as he chokes on his own spit.

“A necromancer? Please tell me you’re joking,” he replies, a look of bewilderment colouring his visage. Features twisted almost comically, it’s all you can do to laugh.

“Of course, I’m joking! What do you take my mother for? She birthed the Witch of Ruin. There’s no way she’d be foolish enough to practice necromancy,” you laugh in response. Hearing your reply, Namjoon immediately relaxes, and seeing the relief on his face, you can’t help but laugh harder. Necromancy was a false school of witchcraft, one only perpetrated by humans who wished they could practice magic. However, they had one thing wrong. There was no magic that could raise the dead. None.

After all, magic came from nature, and the cosmos, and life itself. It’s why most, if not all, witches and warlocks worship some aspect of the natural universe. Some worship the sky, others the sea, a few the mountains, and many the earth and forests. But no self-respecting practitioner of the Magic of Old, would ever worship the dead. Or even consider bringing the dead back to life. Mostly because it was an impossible feat.

Once a living creature reaches the end of its life, the magic that sustains it fades away. Instead, it returns back to the universe, only to be rebirthed into a new form of life. Sometimes that’s in humans - the species having faint tethers to the universe - or what they’d call their ‘souls’. Sometimes, it’s in witches and warlocks - a child born particularly talented in an archetype of magic. More often than not, though, it’s into the very cosmos, as the sea, or the plants, or the stars. Or really, any component of life, or power, that makes up the universe.

“You have me there,” Namjoon concedes with a chuckle. Then, turning his attention to your gift, he gestures towards it. “So, what do we have here?”

Cheeks flushing with heat, you pull your lower lip between your teeth and begin to chew on it while Namjoon unravels the cloth from the wicker basket. When he spots the three, neatly wrapped jars, he flicks his gaze to you in surprise. Suddenly feeling far too self-conscious - was the gift too much? - you suppress an awkward smile. “I don’t know if you drink tea… but these are some of my own special blends,” you explain, your voice a few decibels above a whisper, and laced with your unsureness.

You watch as Namjoon picks up one of the jars, only to open the lid and take in a deep breath of the aromatic fragrance. “God… that smells good. Is that lavender… and oolong?” he asks, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

Floored by his deduction, “How did you even… you can barely even smell the oolong,” you point out. You’re not lying. The scent of lavender is always strong - and overpowering - and no matter what ratios you blend of the two ingredients, you can’t seem to find a way to bring out the oolong. At your obvious shock, Namjoon laughs.

“I spent my day tending plants, or selling them, ____. I know what most of them look, and smell, like. Even if it’s subtle,” he replies.

Intrigued by his words, you look at him curiously. “If you don’t mind me asking… what school of witchcraft do you practice?”

Snapping the lid back onto the jar, he places it back into the basket. Then, eyes flashing mischievously, his lips curl into a teasing smirk. Gazing at you with his smouldering eyes, “How can you not tell? Weren’t you raised by the Sisters of Elysia? I thought they were supposed to be incredibly knowledgeable. Or perhaps… they don’t hold a candle to the Brotherhood of Requiem,” he provokes. Jaw dropping in surprise, you instantly bristle.

“W-What’s that supposed to mean?” you splutter in indignation. “The Brotherhood of Requiem is not better than the Sisters of Elysia,” you continue with a hiss.

“Hmmm… not if you can’t guess what my magic is,” he backfires easily. Huffing at his response, you roll your eyes. Though, there’s no real ire to it.

“Well it’s obvious you practice Herbalism. But with the potency of the magic surrounding you, that can’t be all you practice,” you reply smartly.

Laughing, “I guess you’re right. Botanic Arts. I also practice the Botanic Arts,” he explains. Ah. That would explain the aura of life that surrounds him.

Contrary to your Destructive Arts - a discipline that was focused on elements of chaos, such as lightning or fire, in order to bring about calamity; the Botanic Arts was a discipline focused around the elements of life, such as earth and nature, in order to bring about life. Nonetheless, even with their juxtaposing natures, they were both two incredibly powerful schools of witchcraft, and if used correctly, even the Botanic Arts could be wielded as a cataclysmic magic. A notion only emphasised by his incredibly imposing presence; as well as his sheer confidence.

“How about you?” he asks, his words breaking you out of your thoughts.

Lips twisting into a wry smirk, “How can you not tell? Weren’t you raised by the Brotherhood of Requiem?” you mock, throwing back his own words at him.

With a snort, Namjoon looks at you pointedly. “Well, everything I know about you is from rumours. The witch of ruin, a child of chaos, birthed from lightning and fire. So… I’m assuming you’re proficient in the Destructive Arts. But… considering you just brought me tea leaves I doubt it’s just that,” he says, imitating your own sentiments. Tongue poking out, you swipe it across your lips as you feel the corners of your lips twitching.

“Alchemical Restoration. The teas have healing properties,” you reply as you try to suppress your grin.

You can’t help it.

Namjoon is unlike any other witch or warlock you’ve ever met. In your life, you’ve travelled the world, and you’ve met many of your kind; from all different walks of life. As such, you’re not new to a little flirtatious banter, nor were you unknown to the pleasures of sex, or a budding romance. Nonetheless, it was rare for it to go past that. The moment they found out who you were, who you truly were, they would immediately lose interest in you - either by their own jealousy, or intimidation, or insecurities that you were most likely better, and more powerful, than them.

However, here was a man, who knew who you were, and still continued showing an interest. Or well, at least what you hoped was interest. Though, with the way his eyes subtly roam over your figure every now and then, and with how he keeps his attention focused on you, and only you, you doubt you’re wrong. Namjoon is different. Because even knowing who you are, and knowing about your past, his demeanour hasn’t changed. He’s not the least bit intimidated, nor insecure, or resentful. If anything, you have a feeling you’ve only stoked his interest. And that has a fuzzy warmth blooming within the pits of your stomach.

“A remedial discipline? Didn’t take you for the type,” comes his immediate answer. Then, eyes flashing in mirth, “Though… I can’t say I’m mad. I don’t even want to thinkabout what your gift would be if you just practiced the Destructive Arts… perhaps you’d set my apothecary on fire for daring to intrude on your property?” he teases, and as the words slip out of his mouth, you can’t help but hear the flirtatious intonation.

Your conversation is ordinary, and full of pleasant niceties. Yet, buried between both your tones, is a touch of something deeper; something heavier. Perhaps it’s the playfulness of his entire demeanour, or the coquettish nature of your own replies. But no matter what it is, you can’t help but feel the spark between the two of you. You don’t know where it’s come from, or why. After all, you’re both strangers, and this is your first time meeting. Nevertheless, you can’t help but feel drawn to him - a baser need, something more corporeal pulling you towards him. A flutter of excitement flits through you,

In response to his words, you childishly stick your tongue out. Then, “Yes, well, as much as I adore the Destructive Arts and the power trip that comes with it… I’ve just… somewhat grown tired of it,” you find yourself confessing - the words falling from your lips before you can even stop them. That has Namjoon’s devilish disposition dropping, his features twisting into one of inquisitiveness.

“Oh? Why is that?” he asks.

Once again, and before you even realise what you’re saying, you find yourself shrugging. “Honestly? I don’t know if I ever really even wanted to learn the Destructive Arts. But after my parent’s coven was destroyed, and once the Knights of the Seven Lights began hunting me… I had no other choice, you know? I learnt it because I had to. Because I needed to survive. It was born out of my need to prove something… that I could endure everything, and that I would still come out on top,” you confess. All of a sudden, you pause.

Eyelids widening in the slightest, you quickly halt your tongue as you realise what you’d just blurted out. It’s not often that you talk about your past. You’re over it. Or well, you’re more numb to it. But it wasn’t often that you brought it up - wanting to leave the past… well, in the past. Hell, the only reason the Sisters of Elysia had known, was because they’d saved you from that life. But you never spoke about it. At least, not of your own accord. And certainly not to a random stranger you’d just met. So really, you’re not sure why you’d suddenly, and completely out of the blue, truthfully spoken about your past. Especially in a casual meeting like this.

Nonetheless, something about him calls to you. You don’t know what it is, and you can’t accurately place it. But there’s something about him that you find reassuring. He’s a stranger, and realistically, you know nothing about him. Yet, still, you can’t help but trust him. There’s an air of power around him, yes. It pulses around him in an enticing fashion: a refined aura of magic that is both completely sensual, and commanding. However, woven between that presence, is a sense of solace. The kind that’s filled with a promise of safety, and home. The kind you’ve been desperately searching for all your life. It beckons to you, and effortlessly, you find yourself magnetised to him.

Momentarily, Malise’s words echo in the back of your mind. About how you’d find your soulmate here, and fleetingly, you wonder if it’s him. A part of you is desperate for him to be. For him to be the one you call your home. Yet, even with that yearning that tingles through you, you can’t bring yourself to put any real hope on it. He’s enchanting, and you’re completely enamoured by him. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s your one. The universe has a twisted sense of humour, and seldom did it ever play to one’s hand. Soulmates aren’t perfect. And just because you’re fated for someone, doesn’t mean that you’d work out. Love wasn’t that simple. Thus, with the attraction that you do feel for him already, a weird, twisted part of you doesn’t wantto know. Just in case, he’s not the one destined for you.

A heavy air befalls the two of you; the tension intensifying until it’s so thick that you almost suffocate within its hold. Jittery under the sudden pressure, your hands turn clammy as you begin shuffling from foot to foot. You want to say something, to make a casual joke and immediately diffuse the stiffness in the atmosphere. Nonetheless, your throat is tight, and your mouth dry, and you simply can’t bring yourself to force the words out. Sensing your awkwardness, however, Namjoon quickly comes to your aid. The corners of his lips tugs, and the plush petals of his mouth pull into an easy smile as he points back towards your gift.

“Well, they seem really well-made, and I can already tell just how high quality these are. I’m looking forward to trying them,” comes his airy response. Then, after a brief pause, an impish smirk teases at his lips. “... And giving you my honest opinion,” he taunts. A sense of relief washing over you at the return of his playful demeanour, and with the tension quickly diffusing, you grace him with your own coy grin.

“I’m sure you’ll find them to your standards. It’s not like I could give you something subpar after your lavish present, after all,” you counter. Eyes lighting up suddenly, “Which, speaking of high quality, the lilacs and lavender… where did you get them?” you question. A deep, throaty chuckle emanates from the middle of Namjoon’s chest, and you watch his speckled onyx eyes glint in amusement.

“I didn’t get them anywhere. I grew them myself,” he responds. Taken aback by his answer, you blink at him owlishly. He’d… grown them himself? Well. You hadn’t been expecting that. Though, now that you think about it, it makes sense. Initially, you’d thought that perhaps he’d only enchanted the lilacs, in order to keep them blooming. However, with the sheer life imbued into them, you realise that for that level of magic, he’d probably have to grow them himself. Which, with his mastery in the Botanic Arts, paired with his expertise of Herbalism, would be a feat easier said than done.

With a fleeting glance, you flick your gaze around his shop, only to catch his eye once again. “Do you grow most of your stock?” you ask, astonishment evident in your voice. Once again, Namjoon chuckles, before nodding easily.

“A lot of it, yes. If not most. The things I can’t grow, I have to source from the human settlements. Though, it’s mostly animal products or minerals,” he begins, a look of thought crossing his face. “The minerals, because I don’t have time to go mine for that… Nor do I want to,” he laughs. “And I can’t bring myself to hunt for animal products myself because everytime I do, I end up not wanting to hurt them and letting them go. So I rely on humans a lot for those kinds of things. It’s why, unlike the rest of the coven who lives deeper into the forest, I live closer towards the edge… and also why I’m your only neighbour,” he continues his explanation.

Mouth forming an ‘o’, “That makes sense,” you reply.

“Why do you live so close to the edge? I’m sure High Priest Torin would have offered you a home in the coven’s territory?” Namjoon questions.

With a nonchalant shrug, “I just needed a change I guess. With the Sisters of Elysia being nomadic, we never had an actual home. And so we’d always live in temporary homes while sharing living spaces. Moving here, I knew I kinda just wanted some more privacy, you know?” comes your answer. Once again, there’s nothing but truth in it, and internally, you wonder just what kind of bewitchment he’s cast on you, for you to be so honest. Though, it’s probably just his natural charm.

“Plus, I’m focusing more on my Alchemical Restoration, and I want to be able to help as many people as I can. Both, our coven, and the humans in the country,” you continue. Then, letting out a sigh, “Except… I’m still new to the area and the Forest of Ingredeen is huge and I have no idea where the human settlements are,” you finish. Then, after a small pause for thought, “Other than the Sundale settlement, that is,” you ponder out loud.

“Oh. There are a total of five in the entire country, and they all border the Forest of Ingredeen since it’s the oldest and most ancient woodland,” Namjoon points out. Taking his hands off of the counter, he shuffles towards the book rack on the tabletop, and pulling out a large scroll from the corner, he unravels it flat onto the surface. A large map greets you; the parchment yellowed and the ink faded with time. Still, you can make out all the details of the cartograph. It’s of Carelia, you note, with the human settlements clearly illustrated, as well as the paths to them.

“These are the general routes that you can traverse. Though, not all of them are in use anymore. And newer ones have been created. There’s also no real roads to follow,” Namjoon explains, a small frown marring his lips. Then, flicking his gaze towards you, he looks at you through hooded eyes. “If you’re free tomorrow, I can show you around? I doubt anyone knows these woods as well as me” he boasts.

Lips pulling into a flirtatious smile, you loll your head to the side before cocking your eyebrow. “Like a date?” comes your glib suggestion. Your voice is light, and airy, and your tone completely casual. And of course, you don’t expect him to actually agree. Still, to your complete disappointment, Namjoon shakes his head

“Not like a date,” comes his quick response, his voice causing ripples of devastation to tinge at your being. However, “A date,” he continues. Instantly, your disappointment is replaced with delight, and your heart simultaneously flutters.

Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you chew on the soft petal in a bid to suppress your grin. “I’ll look forward to it.”

a/n: SCREAM god fneorngeoirgnoeig i dont know why that was so long when absolutely nothing happened but i hope y’all liked it ahhh 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 i’m hoping to get the next part up next weekend but jfneronorign no promises rip ♡

⇥ Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Like my work? Consider buying me a Kofi!

#bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader #bts namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #bts namjoon smut #kim namjoon fluff #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon angst #bts imagine #namjoon imagine #bts fanfiction #namjoon fanfiction #i fucking hate coming up with tags on god

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Note

Sooo, about the ask thing. First off all congratulations I love you and your writing 💜 you seem like such a nice, intelligent and funny person. But was thinking what if namjoon comes home drunk and guilty about something he did and vixen comforts him. Love u💋

Title: Drunk (&) In Love

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: 2.6k

Genre: crack, fluff, (also, vaguely allusive)

Rating: 18+ cause THESE TWO ARE A MESS FOR EACH OTHER

Synopsis: apparently Namjoon's stag party went a bit too wild. Mostly since he was drinking guilt away. What could that possibly be about?

Trigger warnings: swearing, consumption of alcohol, horny!drunk Joon, he clumsily tries to seduce his fianceé in front of yoonjintae (second-hand embarrassment), stressing over vows, mentions of kinky letters, they discuss future and the fear of marrying young and pretty much out of the blue and they be mentioning the idea of having kids. Also, watch Vixen being the caregiver.

Author's note: Thanking the sweetheart @ironicarmy !!! I love exchanging WIPs and Beta reading! It was so fun and I AM LOVING YOUR WIP SO HARD IM GONNA EXPLODE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! can't wait for it to be out so I can fangirl in public LOLOLOL; also thanking @dopesportsoperatorzonk for this request! (I got your feminism ask, I promise I'm almost done, I wanted to have a quite thorough view before replying and I'm still thinking about some stuff, but it'll be readdy super soon!!!)

Here's my masterlist, btw, and enjoy 💜✨

You weren't supposed to wait up for him, but it was like your sixth sense was telling you to do precisely that. And your premonition turned especially accurate once you were met with the sorry sight of Namjoon hanging off Taehyung's and Seokjin's body, grinning as he saw you appear at the door, head to toe smitten, only to turn to his friends with a sneer as he realised you were wearing his favourite silk robe. The deep crimson colour seemed to spark the colour of your hair on fire, and make the lineaments of your face sharper, older, with a kind of allure he still couldn't understand. “Little fox,” he said, going grabby hands while his arms were still around his friends' shoulders.

You tried to keep your expression stern as you looked at the two men literally holding him up. “What is this? Didn't I tell you to bring him home whole and safe?”

Taehyung lowered his gaze to the floor.

“Is this your idea of safe, Seokjin? I expected better.”

“You know him. He did this to himself.” Yoongi spoke neutrally from behind the three.

“Yoongi. Him being a fucking grizzly doesn't mean he can hold his liquor. Bring him in,” you said, freeing the entryway for the triplet coming in, Yoongi in tow.

“We should have brought him to the dorms,” he muttered.

“Dorms?!? Aneeyo…” Namjoon babbled, shaking his head, falling with his ass on the sofa. “No babylove in dorms,” he said with a hiccup. “Hello, little one,” he purred, grabbing your hips and trying to pull you towards him.

You blushed and slapped at his wrists. “I'll deal with you later—”

“Feisty brat,” he spoke sultrily, making Yoongi shake his head while Seokjin and Taehyung snickered before being chastised by your scolding stare.

“How come he's drunk off his ass and the three of you are perfectly okay?”

“He's the one getting married,” Taehyung replied, matter of factly. “And yes, he was the one who swallowed a bottle of hard liquor without even flinching.”

You glance at Namjoon with a scornful expression.

He did some very drunk, very clumsy attempt at a wink that made you inhale as you desperately looked for a crumb of patient left.

“You'd better go home, before I smack you all on the head,” you said, shooing them off.

“You'd have to reach it first,” Taehyung muttered, making Seokjin giggle, Yoongi rubbing his face at the verbal violence that was about to come.

“Kim Taehyung. I may not be tall enough for your royal head, but your girlfriend is my best friend. I won't say much more because I'm sure your friends aren't interested in your ass getting bruised.”

Yoongi smiled smugly at that one.

“Hell yeah…” Namjoon chuckled from the sofa, one hand reaching for the back of your thigh.

“No. Not now.”

“Later then?” He asked with puppy eyes before they turned into a very tipsy version of his intense dragon glance. “You’re so sexy when you’re mean,” he rumbled, a hand reaching for your thigh underneath the robe.

“Kim Namjoon, if you don’t stop I will unwife you in this instant.” Still, the other three men in the room were a mess of embarrassed coughing and teasing snorts. “You can all go home right now,” you said with a curt tone.

“You’re not gonna be able to take him to bed by yourself.” Yoongi cocked an eyebrow as he spoke calmly.

“Mh, Vixen, take me to bed, please,” Namjoon murmured as he tried to seduce you, just as you looked at him and replied, “No need to take him to bed. He’s sleeping on the sofa tonight.”

“See? I told you she found out! She has a sixth sense for this stuff! She can sense it! She can smell fear! I told you!!!” Namjoon babbled, grabbing your wrist. “Little fox...” he cooed, making a fool of himself.

“Go home. All of you. Now.”

Taehyung was the first to leave without even saying goodbye. He knew he would pay for it. Seokjin was the next, saying bye to Namjoon very briefly before bowing to you — just slightly. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, goodnight,” he apologised, making his way out.

“Yoongi?”

He rubbed his neck. “I’m sorry. Really. I— I didn’t do my job.”

You shook your head. “This is a mess I’ll have to deal with.”

“You know you’ll kind of have to deal with him for the rest of your life, right?” Yoongi looked at Namjoon, head in his hands, fingers tugging at it nervously.

You followed his gaze, meeting Namjoon in the poorest of states. “I know. He’s my business now. Go.”

Yoongi left without much resistance after that, the door of your apartment finally shutting for good.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon said, staring up at you as you stood before him. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

You placed your hands on his cheeks. “What happened, Joonie bear?”

He shook his head, lip going wobbly. “I’m so sorry!” he babbled again, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“Oh, no, baby…” you managed to whisper before he dove for your lap, burying his face there. “What happened, love?”

He shook his head.

“Nothing’s gonna change the fact that I love you, big bear.” You caressed his hair as his voice confessed, half-muffled against your tummy.

“I sneaked a look at the dress.” You could hear his words coming out from a pout.

“Joonie—”

“Please don’t unwife me!” He cried out, his voice way too high pitched. “I don’t want to sleep alone ever.” He hugged your legs and held you closer. “I want to sleep next to you until I die.” He got even more emotional as he went on. “I want you to always pet my hair and tell me you’re proud of me and cook for me and be my sweetheart and my babylove and my little fox forever, even when we’re old and I get bald.”

You smiled and invited him to let go of your legs before sitting down, your legs slightly parted laying across the sofa. “Come here, big bear,” you said, patting your stomach. He did as he was told, laying his head below your chest and stretching his long body all over the seat. He struggled a little, his sense of balance temporarily worse than usual. “Soon I’ll be lawfully your bride. Forever. We’re almost there, honey. Just a week.”

He nodded.

“And then I’ll be your little fox until I’m nothing but ashes. And then some,” you reassured him, petting his lovely head, digging your fingers into the knots in his upper back.

“Writing the vows was so difficult.”

“I know baby,” you kept rubbing at his trapezoi until he released a relieved grunt. “I know that must have been really stressful for you.”

“I had to rewrite them sixteen times. Sixteen!” His hand absentmindedly reached your thigh and started rubbing small circles there. “Everytime, they were too long, or too cliché, or something I just couldn’t read in public because you know our letters.”

“I know our letters,” you confirmed, thinking about his messy handwriting on cheap paper, and entire sheets of words that he sent you everytime something important happened, everytime he had to travel for his job, everytime he just needed to make love to you on a deeper level. And then, thinking of your replies, always heartfelt, emotional, with fine calligraphy on expensive ivory sheets often marred with rough spots where a tear fell — most of the time because of joy and gratitude and obliterating, overwhelming love. “Will you read to me the other sixteen versions too, once we’re alone?”

He nodded. “I’ll read them all. I’ll write new ones every day. Small, simple, absolutely mundane. Stuff like, ‘I’ll do the dishes tonight’, or ‘Let’s go out for dinner’, or ‘I wanna grow old with you’ or ‘I don’t wanna watch that porn tonight, let’s just stare into each other’s eyes while naked and have the best tantric sex ever performed’.”

You chuckled and placed your hand atop of his. “I like the last one.”

“But I couldn’t say it in front of your parents, therefore I couldn’t write it in our vows.” He scoffed and shook his head before planting it between your breasts, nosing at the lapels of the robe until he could kiss your naked skin.

“I might have written something along those lines in one of my drafts.” Having this conversation with Namjoon while he was halfway drunk off his ass was extremely entertaining; however, you felt sad at the possibility of him not remembering this moment.

“What else did you write in that draft?” He closed his eyes, waiting for your soft voice to calm him down.

You smiled and slightly teared up at the thought, his chin propped on your chest, one of his thumbs reaching out to dry up a tear. “I wrote that I hope I get to make you smile every day and see that insanely cute and sexy dimple of yours every morning after you wake up. And I want to be the only one listening to your deep bedroom voice waking me up. And I want to listen to you as you talk to our children. I wanna hear all the stories, and watch your smile shine on their faces.”

Namjoon hid his face against your chest, feeling tears roll down his cheeks.

“I want them to have your eyes. I want to see your complete wonder as they learn about the world, as you teach them about the world in that grand and beautiful way you see it.” You sniffled and he cupped your face, kissing your lips so slowly, the heavy tang of liquor barely tainting the moment.

“I want to walk by your side, until we’re too tired to walk and watch time pass by, without worries, without haste. I don’t care where we’re walking because you were the place I was destined to be.”

Namjoon couldn’t explain tenderness or love or devotion or faith as deep as the ones he felt for you. He probably wasn’t skilled or trained enough.

“I know we’re young. I know this is more of a bet than an actual marriage. I’ve seen people who have been together for years part ways so easily and I don’t even know why you said yes to me. Sometimes I doubt I’m deserving and I see in how many ways I’m lacking and I ask myself, 'why the hell did she say yes to me?' ” He snickered sarcastically. “I wouldn’t have said yes to myself.”

You shook your head and kissed his brow.

“But I’ve been with other people and you have too and… I don’t know, sometimes I feel like this will take a lot of effort but then I hear you laugh, I hear you calling my name and I know, I can feel that that’s what it is supposed to sound like.”

You smiled at him, fixing your position so he could lay on you without worrying about smashing your body.

“I’m so confused and so grateful for this. It’s like… Suddenly winning the lottery. One minute you’re just a person and next you realise you’re going to be a husband. And you don’t know what’s going to happen to you, how your life is going to change, but with you I’m not scared.” He chuckled. “Well, I am. But you make me braver than my fears. And I know I could lose you any day. I could fuck up, or we could just drift apart or something. But any moment spent with you is bigger. It’s better and brighter.”

By now you were a teary mess, face drenched in tears, his arms around your torso as he held onto you. “My soul has found a home in you and I will cherish it. I’ll take care of that home. I’ll make sure nothing damages it. I’ll help you work on it if you want to change it. I will make more room when our family gets bigger. I will fix it when I can. I’ll stay by your side when I’m not skilled enough to heal you. To fix you.” He sniffled, voice hollow and weak as he spoke through a lump in his throat. “And I’ll leave if you ever ask me to.”

You shook your head and hugged him, letting him sob in your arms. “I hope I never lose you.”

“Don’t be a silly bear,” you comforted him, lulling him, holding him close to your heart. “I’ll be your bride. Your spouse. Your wife.” You kissed his head. “And your home. Your relief. Your dirty, secret affair. Your devoted companion too. Your goddess and your toy. I’ll be your friend. And the mother of your children, when we want to.”

God, if he wanted to… But first, he needed to enjoy having you all to himself for a couple more years. Just to make sure you hadn’t been both bold and immature and absolutely stupid about getting married almost two years after meeting for the first time.

“So I’m not getting unwifed for sneaking a peek at the dress?”

You shook your head. “It looks completely different once worn.”

“Really?” His expression exploded with euphoria.

You smiled. “Really.”

His drunken grin was back. “So I’m gonna sleep on the bed right?”

You acted as if you were even thinking about it. “You’re really drunk.”

“I’m soberer now.”

“And you embarrassed me in front of your friends,” you reminded him with a cocked eyebrow.

“Not my fault my wifey’s so hot,” he said with a slightly more accomplished wink.

“Not your wifey yet,” you reminded him.

He tutted. “Just a matter of days.” He kissed your sweet spot, on the side of your neck. “It’s only a technicality.”

You looked at him suspiciously. “A technicality, you say?”

He nodded and held you tighter.

“This technicality could still leave you at the altar, waiting,” you teased.

“Come on, I want to sleep next to you.” He kissed your cheek. “On our bed.” He kissed you again. “Where we’ll be making so many babies.”

“Stop right there, mister.” You placed a finger against his plush lips before you shook your head no. “No babies for a few years. I want you all mine, hubby.”

He chuckled and pressed his forehead against your chest bone. “Okay, fine, but I just meant hypothetically. You know, for practice.”

“Yeah, I think I could use some practice. I want to be perfect at it.”

He smiled and kissed your nose. If only she knew how perfect she is, he thought, haphazardly sitting up and waiting for you to help him on his feet, the whole discourse sobering him up enough that he managed to sit on the bench in the bathroom as you washed his face and brushed his teeth, as you undressed him and helped him in the shower, undressing and joining him, his body too tired and unstable to initiate anything fancy.

And then you towelled him up, rubbing body lotion on his always-too-dry legs before helping him in his boxers.

And through the process, he understood how it was that you loved him so much anytime he got you ready for bed. He should let you do this more often. Especially when he wasn’t exhausted or drunk, so he could properly enjoy being cuddled and fondled and babied.

What he didn’t expect was for it to feel so comfortable when you slid up against his back on the bed, spooning his ridiculously large body with your smaller one. “Sleep tight, big bear,” you said before kissing his nape. “Eight more sleeps and we’ll be married.”

He smiled. “Goodnight, little fox.” And with that, he caught your hand in his and fell asleep.

#kim namjoon fluff #namjoon crack #bts fanfiction #bts fanfiction blog #namjoon drabble #houseofddaeng #52hertz #thebtswritersclub #thetruthuntoldnet #namjoon x reader #namjoon x yn #namjoon x vixen

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starbuckie · 3 years

Text

𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

challenge: time travel challenge by @justagirlinafandomworld

prompt: “we’re divorced?”

pairing: sirius black x reader

words: 5.7k words

warnings: FOURTH WALL BREAK!!(sorry im very excited about that), lots of angst, almost smut(hehe), sirius lowkey has a breeding kink, sirius is an asshole for a bit, the smallest bit of fluff, fix-it, and the same time travel theory as back to the future

summary: an unnatural occurrence lets a woman go back in time to try and change everything she’s known for the past twenty years.

a/n: wow, i normally don’t write for harry potter so this was a nice change. anyways, this is for yvette’s time travel writing challenge, and everybody say HAPPY BIRTHDAY YVETTE! i’m so sorry this is late, it got deleted and i needed to re-edit, but i truly appreciate your friendship and your lovely, amazingly beautiful self, and I’m so so glad that we became friends :) this fic is not beta-read at all, so if you see any mistakes tell me, but otherwise i really hope you enjoy this fic<3

main masterlist || harry potter masterlist

It still wasn’t over. After all she had lost, more specifically everyone she had lost, and the shitty cycle that she had to call her life, it still wasn’t over. The people she had watched the life drain from, the screams of those suffering from the loss caused by the Dark Lord, and yet life still hadn’t had its fill of torturing Y/N. Grimmauld Place felt empty without the kids, without the Weasleys, but they had gone back to their home and soon enough she would have to as well. Harry had gone back to Hogwarts with Dumbledore, though she’d argued to hold onto him just a bit longer after-

After Sirius had died.

Time had passed, maybe two or three weeks, but no matter what the woman couldn’t bring herself to get out of Sirius’ old bedroom, simply staring at the ceiling with her tears at bay. Her and Sirius had been a complicated thing, to say the least, a topic nobody had brought up since 1983, when she had banned it. Not as if there was much to talk about after the divorce and Sirius going to Azkaban. After Lily and James had died, after she had fought with Dumbledore for custody of Harry, after she had become a professor at Beauxbatons and moved to France without a second thought. Sirius had been locked up after he’d hurt her in the worst possible way, and Y/N’s heartbroken soul found no other reason to return to England.

But, she pushed those bad memories to the back of her mind. It seemed so trivial, looking back on it. Not the broken house, of course, that had been his own mistake. But Y/N had many regrets, all of them seeming to revolve around the mischievous black-haired man who she had fallen in love with as a teen. The night it went down, the night their relationship had fractured at the seams and fallen down, was her greatest one however. It had been so stupid, so, so stupid, but they’d both gotten caught up in the moment, and Y/N had let him die without knowing how much she was sorry for that night that they let their fears consume them.

The cries that she had tried so hard to contain finally broke free from the restraints of her heart. “I’m so sorry, Siri,” she whispered into the air, “I couldn’t save you this time.” As the hot, salty tears ran down her cheeks, Y/N shuffled across the room, letting her feet drag her to the old Black family room, the dark green walls embracing her rainy emotions.

A little gasp escaped her lips as she looked at the portraits among the wall. The Black family tree was faded along the age-old wall, but what she was really looking for was the burned out image of her raven-haired love. There, right next to Regulus, was a black spot, scorned and scarred by the prestigious family for being a blood traitor. Y/N smiled and traced the burn with her finger, remembering their fourth year when she had accompanied him home for the holidays so he wouldn’t be completely alone in the hellhole he had to call his house. Sirius had snuck them up to this room and spent the night talking in hushed whispers sworn secrets. “I’ll be yours forever, Siri, and I’m sorry for fighting with you. I wish-” she sniffled, glaring at the spot in the wall as she tried to garble out her words, “I wish, I could go back in time, and just fix it. Just me and you, and that stupid night, with the bloody fight about children because you deserve it all, darling.”

“Ah, I think you can.”

Y/N turned around, her eyes wide with fear. That was not Kreacher’s voice. There stood a younger woman, around nineteen, a scroll of paper and a quill in her hand. There was a whisper of a smirk on her face, brown eyes glittering even in the dimness in the room. “Who the hell are you?” Y/N looked at the door, which was still closed as she left it. She cast her wand out, pointing it at the stranger who did nothing but smile. “How did you get in here? Are you with the Lord?”

“With Voldemort?” The woman simply laughed. “Dude, I’m not with ‘the Lord’,” she added with air quotations. “Also I’m not really even here, so don’t you worry about that. My name’s Malia.”

Malia held her hand out, but Y/N kept her guard up. “You’re American. What brings you here? Are you a muggle?”

“Oh, nope, not a wizard, I’m just the author of this story.” Malia confided. “I’m here to tell you that you can fix this.”

“Fix… what?” Malia just rolled her eyes and sighed, staring up towards the ceiling as she spoke.

“God, did I write you to be hard of hearing now, too? I ought to fix that when I get back.” The woman blankly stared at the strange girl, wondering what the actual fuck she was talking about. “I can give you the chance to go back in time, Y/N. It won’t be for long, it’s really not gonna be interesting for more than two hours at most, but that should be enough time to tell the gang about what’s to come with Voldemort.”

“Like... time travel?” Y/N asked. The only way she knew how to time travel was the time turners. “But all of the ti-”

“Time turners were destroyed in the Department of Mysteries, I know, I know. Trust me, I’ve read Harry Potter more times than I’ve said ‘I love you’ to my parents.” Malia smiled. “I’m the author, I make the rules, and my rule is that I’m giving you two hours in 1978 to talk to Sirius so he can fix the emotional fucking mess left behind by J.K. Rowling.”

“Who’s J.K. Rowling?” Malia shuddered at the name.

“A raggedy-ass, transphobic bitch who wrote y’all into existence, but she’s not of importance right now.” She checked the small, rectangular box in her hand, which glowed and provided little light in the darkened room. “Let’s see, it’s currently eleven-forty, so you have until one-forty to find the Marauders and fix this future. It may not be fixed in the books in the future, but if you are able to do it here that’s all that matters.” Malia’s brown eyes were downcast, her bright and loud personality dimming for just a moment before returning to Y/N’s confused gaze once more. “Try not to screw up too much while you’re there, just enough that you defeat the Dark Lord the first time. Tell Sirius all you know and that should be enough for him to fix all the mistakes, but do not under any circumstances let him or anyone else know who you are. I wish you luck, Y/N, it was nice to meet ya in person.”

And with a peace sign in front of her face, she disappeared into a flash of neon pink light.

“Bloody hell! Fix my future? Talk to Sirius? If this even is time travel, then how am I supposed to get there- AH!” Y/N’s body felt like it was turning inside out, her guts being torn from her stomach and back into it again. A delirious giggle arose from her lips in the black void she was pulled into, and a soft chatter could be heard, like voices at the end of a tunnel.

“Blimey, looks like we got ourselves a nutter on school grounds.” Y/N’s arms flailed around, desperately seeking some sort of grounding surface to hold on to when her back hit a rough surface. There was an audible crack somewhere in her body, but she felt so sick that she couldn’t tell where.

“Are you okay, ma’am? You just appeared from the sky and hit the ground.” Warm, brown eyes met Y/N’s, a familiar mess of black curls resting atop of the boy’s head. Large, rounded glasses sat perched on the tip of his nose, and an impish smile, one she used to know so well before he died, met his lips.

“James,” she sighed. The boy stared at her strangely, and only then did she notice the three other boys and girls each behind them. Remus, Peter, Sirius, Lily, Marlene, and Alice.

Sirius.

The sight that met her eyes made her nearly emotional. It had technically been only three weeks since she had seen him, but here was the young boy she had fallen in love with. The one who charmed her with his smart words and witty retorts to her brush-offs, who used to hold her in his arms in the most intimate and gentle ways. His grey eyes sparkled with curiosity, the infamous Marauder mischief swirling within the silvery pools.

Seeing him so young tugged at her heartstrings, and though she wanted nothing more than to hold him in her arms and never let go, a small, niggling feeling at the back of her head held her back. Was there something wrong?

“You know me?” Oh right, she was currently thirty-five. Looking around she noticed that she was outside the quidditch pitch, and there were other students, staring at her with widened eyes. No one knew she was Y/N L/N, their fellow schoolmate and probably one of the very few of them that survived the Death Eaters attacks. None of them were aware how it ended, or how it was currently going for them back in 1996, and in this time there was the first Wizarding War going on and they had every right to be terrified for their lives.

James now took a more defensive stance, standing tall and holding his wand out. “Who are you?”

She couldn’t give him the answer, instead letting her mouth gape open as she stared at him with wide eyes. Y/N looked across the grounds for the nearest exit, which was down by Hagrid’s hut and into the Forbidden Forest. It was her only choice at this point, to hide in the dark, creepy space, maybe just until the students went away so she could find Sirius and talk to him alone. It’d be hard to separate him from the boys, but if Lily were occupied with James it sure would be easy.

Her younger, seventh-year self didn’t seem to be in the audience, thank Merlin, and with that knowledge, she got up and ran, ignoring her screaming muscles. That time travel really did a number on her.

As she ran through the crowd, shoving people aside, she heard the students mutter, too much in shock and disarray to stop the crazy, old woman who knew James Potter.

“This is dodgy.”

“Someone ought to tell Dumbledore about this.”

“She kinda looks like Y/N L/N.’

“Don’t insult the poor girl like that, that wonker is ages old.”

“Come back here! Who the bloody hell are you?” Y/N’s heart beat quickly in her chest, threatening to burst out. Only three minutes in the past and it was all going straight to shit. “Stupefy!”

Shit. “No, James, please don’t-“ Her body hit the ground and her eyes closed, the last thing she saw being the pumpkin patch by the hut.

“I see you’re awake now, Ms. L/N.” Dumbledore stood above Y/N in the hospital ward bed, his grey beard dangling in front of her face. Her first instinct was to start blaming him for everything that had happened, starting from Lily and James’ deaths to Sirius’, already opening her mouth to call him an old, senile cow, but then she realized that Harry hadn’t been sent to the Dursleys yet, much less been born yet, so none of it would have an effect on him. Y/N’s second instinct was to question how Dumbledore knew who she was in 1978, but her former Headmaster started to speak before she could do so. “I must admit, it’s very courageous, that stunt you just pulled. I don’t think Ms. Louie will be too happy about that.” Y/N sent him a questioning stare. “Malia, the girl you met earlier. Malia Louie.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore, how did you know it was me?” She was dressed in a white gown that went to her knees, and behind him she could see her blouse and jeans folded and clean. Ah, the Hospital Wing. She had brought the boys here more times than she could count in her years at Hogwarts. “I don’t exactly look as young as I used to.”

“Ah, don’t worry Ms. L/N, you’ve kept your good looks quite nicely, even in your older age.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, his wrinkled eyes sparkling with joy. “And speaking of young, if you are still worrying yourself about your younger self, you can put that to a stop. I am aware that you are not able to tell anyone who you are, and time travel is exceptionally dangerous if you are seen by the other version of yourself. I’ve already told the students that you were just a stray witch, misguided in your ways and that you were well taken care of. However, I think that brings us to the question of what your intentions are in the past, Ms. L/N.”

“Headmaster, I don’t think I can tell you about my business here. I’ve already messed up by letting the school see me by letting everyone see me, I don’t know why that girl even sent me here, it’s clear that this was a mistake.” Y/N sat up on the headboard, feeling her eyes fill with tears once again. The tall arches of windows let the sun in the room, and she could see the specks of dust swirling around in the golden light. It had to be close to the end of the year for them, maybe sometime around April or May, near the end of N.E.W.T.s at least. She could imagine that it’d be easy for her to get out of Hogwarts for the day, with all the students studying for the stressful exams in the library, maybe she'd make her way to Hogsmeade and walk around or visit Hagrid under a false name to have some tea. He was always open for a nice cuppa with strangers on any free day he had. “Thank you Headmaster, for your kindness, but I really ought to be going. I-it was nice to see you.”

Y/N started to help herself out of the bed, swinging her feet over to touch the cool stone ground. Bones cracked with pain and fatigue, her muscles stretching sluggishly. Merlin, that she was not expecting that much hurt from the fall, but she should have never underestimated James Potter. No one ever should if they want to keep their good mind and sanity.

Dumbledore handed her her clothes, cracked lips set in a straight line as he nodded solemnly. “I hope you accomplish whatever it is you are here to do, Ms. L/N, but I have no doubt that you will.” With a sly wink, he added, “You were always one of our most ardent and bright students.”

Y/N let herself smile, and with a wave, swiftly brought herself to the door. “Thank you, Headmaster.”

After slipping outside, she ran down the corridors, echoes of her feet ringing lightly behind her. The courtyard proved to be empty and she quickly ducked behind a column and tugged her jeans on hastily, making sure that no professors came walking past. Though the sky proved to be bright and cheerful, a slight breeze carried through, making her fall off balance and fall on the cemented ground.

“Are you okay, darling? You look like you’re in need of a little help.” Y/N looked up to the speaking figure, one that she both loved and dreaded to see.

She gathered herself quickly, her mind running fast and heart beating out of her chest as she tried to get out. “Yes, I am okay, thank you for asking. I think I’ll just get up and going now, I don’t need to take time out of your day like this-”

“I know who you are, Y/N.”

Y/N came to a full stop, going against her brain that screamed at her to run away. Sirius looked downtrodden, his grey eyes watering despite the small hint of a smirk on his face. Though he was always one for playing around and not taking anything seriously, she knew when it was time to stop pretending and get real. “How’d you know it was me, Sirius?”

“You really don’t look bad for your age, darling.” He offered her a hand to help her up and she took it graciously, eyeing him nearly guiltily and forgetting about her promise to Y/N. But that was useless now, this moment with her first love was much more important. “Also you have the tattoo on your chest. I knew it was you the moment you landed on school grounds.”

She traced his gaze to her left collarbone, where a paw print, just barely visible beneath her low-cut blouse, sat. It was his, or Snuffles’, paw print, and at this point in time they had probably gotten it done about three months before. He had one for her too, a horseshoe for her horse patronus, right on his left side of his chest too. So they’d always be right next to each other’s hearts, as cheesy as it seemed.

But they were dumb, lovesick teenagers, and they acted the part well too. Their love was all-consuming, shagging in under the bleachers at the quidditch pitch and making out under the stars. It was fast, everything was fast, decisions, ideas, classes, all of them under the impression that they had to do everything right then or they’d be dead before they got to actually live. They had dreams of marriage, and a big, big family, obviously so far away from his family so they could never hurt their children’s lives the way they had hurt his.

They were fantasies, Y/N had known that well enough when she and Sirius got divorced, but it was something that eighteen year-old Sirius Black held close to his heart. No matter how shitty his life got, he was always a firm believer in a happy ending. In their happy ending.

“How am I right now?” They now stood over the Black Lake, staring into the glittering depths of the water where some mermaids could be seen sneaking peeks at the handsome boy and the strange lady who had fallen from the sky.

Sirius stared at her questioningly for a moment. “How are you doing right now? I mean, I believe that I should be asking you that ques- oh, Merlin, I’m such a git, you meant your younger self.” Y/N laughed at that, her heart lifting with the goofiness of the old Sirius relieving an ache in her heart that she had had for so long. Not that old (it felt weird to say that) Sirius had been anything less than silly and snarky, but it was never directed towards her. It was nice to have the resemblance of their old relationship back, even if it was just for a fleeting moment. “I suppose that you’re okay. You didn’t see, well, your big moment on the field, but at this point Lily has probably opened her big, fat mouth and told you. N.E.W.T.s are just finishing up, so you’re much more light-hearted than during the study season.”

“I really did have a stick up my arse during exam time, you always told me to loosen up-”

“Y/N, cut out the small talk, I think it’s okay for me to ask how and what is happening.” Sirius cut in.

So she told him. Y/N had always been upfront with people about everything. Or rather, she had learned how to be upfront with people after her and Sirius’ divorce. Without details of the deaths, she explained how she was sent back into the past to fix it in some conceivable way. However, she did tell him about the fall out. Maybe she wanted him to understand her pain, even though it was a younger him, but she had to admit to herself that it was because she just wanted Sirius, in whatever form life gave her to hear out her grievances and apologies.

Since her Sirius was dead before she could.

“We’re divorced?” Sirius looked about ready to break down into tears, almost as if the concept of them breaking up or separating was foreign to him. “What exactly did we fight over, Y/N? That doesn’t seem normal for the two of us.” Sirius asked.

“Well, to be fair, it wasn’t a normal predicament for us. either…”

Sirius slammed the door shut, efficiently pinning her against it with his white button up ruffled up, navy tie hanging from his neck loosely. Y/N’s arms were held down tightly against the oak wood, the sensation of the cold door burning into her rather warm skin making her squeal. Her husband’s tongue worked its way through her parted lips, low groans rising from the back of his throat from the way she moaned in tandem with his hips pushing into hers. Legs wrapped around his tapered waist, the pink, floral skirt Y/N wore rising high on her thighs, revealing more of her flesh to the lust-filled man. Both of their giggles echoed off the hallway walls of their small cottage home, just four miles west of their best friends’.

As the twenty year-old man threw his wife unceremoniously on the bed, he shed himself of his shirt and swiftly unbuttoned his slacks, throwing them haphazardly across the room. Merlin, Y/N looked ethereal laying spread out on the bed, panties around her left ankle, swollen lips parted with short puffs of air leaving them. “You just get right down to business, don’t you, Black.”

Crawling over his body, his hot breath hit her neck as he growled against her skin. “Could say the same thing about you, darling.” Sirius’ lips made their way down every inch, every curve, nook, and cranny of Y/N’s body, smoothly slipping her clothes off as he did so. Her sweet gasps filled the bedroom, back arching off the bed to meet his chest. “I’m going to put a baby in you tonight, sweetheart, we’re-”

Y/N sat up straight, her eyebrows trained in confusion at her husband. “What? A baby?”

Sirius’ heart pounded in his chest. “Yes.” He remarked in a clipped tone. “Is that not what you wanted?”

Her mind recalled her words from earlier that day, as she chatted happily with Lily about the news of her pregnancy. “Siri, I said I may one day enjoy having a kid of my own. Not right now, of course, but later. After all, we only got married a few months ago, don’t you think we should hold off a bit on that? We’re twenty years-old, Siri, there’s so many years for that.”

Rage filled Sirius’ blood like a spreading fire. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much about his anger as it was his hurt and fear. Fear that she had realized how fucked up he truly was, fear that she realized what he had known all along- that she deserved better than him. “So you don’t want a baby with me?”

“I never said I didn’t want that, Sirius, I just said that I’m not ready!” Y/N yelled back. At this point both of them stood on opposite sides of the bed, faces hot with tears. “We’re in the middle of a bloody war, people we know, people we love, have lost their lives, and it is not the ideal environment to raise a child, Sirius! Just because James and Lily are ready to have one doesn’t mean that I am too!”

“When will you be ready, Y/N? When will it ever be enough time for you? When will I be enough for you?” The heartbroken girl tried to interject, but her voice was cut off by her husband’s quickly enough. Sirius climbed onto the bed, holding her chin harshly with one hand. “Tell me, did you ever want to be with me in the first place?”

“Yes, Sirius, of course I wanted to be with you.” His heart hurt looking at the love of his life in tears, but even that was able to melt his cold facade. “I love you more than anything in the world.”

“Then fucking prove it, Y/N.” With that declaration, he removed his hand from her face and gathered his clothes, slamming everything in their shared room as Y/N quivered, knees ready to buckle on the spot. “I’m going out, don’t wait up for me.”

As soon as the front door shut, she fell to the ground in tears, the laughter that once filled their home replaced with the sound of her shattered heart.

Y/N had done her best to not tear up during her explanation of the events that had taken that night, but Sirius' eyes watered, refusing to believe the truth. “No. No. I didn’t do that. Y/N, tell me,” he gripped her biceps with trembling hands, “please tell me I didn’t really do that. I can’t believe that I-I, that I-”

“You were drunk, Sirius, I don’t think you truly knew what you were saying at the time.” She sighed, “But people always say that drunken words are just sober thoughts.” Y/N rubbed her arms, just shivering slightly in the Scotland breeze. “You came back two hours later punching the wall and breaking it, and that’s when I knew that we wouldn’t last.”

The raven-haired boy’s head started to shake, even more mortified of the actions that his future self, the man he’d be in just two years' time, had done. “I packed up my things, not that there were many, we’d only moved into the house a month before, left, and I sent the divorce papers a week later. It was probably better that way, you would’ve divorced me if I hadn’t done it first.” Y/N had gotten used to telling her sob story to colleagues at Beauxbatons, to her family, but it felt different with pre-divorce Sirius. Of course, she had never thought she’d be in this citation either, so no one could really blame her for feeling weird. “You signed them easily, and my lawyer made sure that I never had to see you again.” Until Lily and James died.

“Until…” Sirius led on.

“Merlin’s beard, Sirius, you’ve always been able to read my mind. Shouldn’t have doubted it for a second.” He smiled at the sentiment, gesturing for her to continue. “I can’t tell you, Sirius, I hope you can understand that.”

“Why, Y/N, what happens that can be any worse in the future?” Oh dear, Sirius, you really do not want the answer to that question. She needed any way out of this conversation, after all running away was what she did best, and her eyes already searched for several routes to which she could run. Not that Y/N could ever outrun Sirius in his animagus form, but it was nice to have the belief that she could. The boy sensed her distress and grabbed hold of her hand. “You don’t have to tell me, darling, but I have to admit that I am a bit worried, just in the slightest.”

Y/N let herself calm down, squeezing Sirius’ hand and noticing his watch. She had actually given him that watch, gold-plated and dark grey metal, but it wasn’t the beauty of the gift that caught her eye, but rather the actual time on it. One-thirty.

How had that much time gone by so quickly? She was going to be sucked into the black void of time travel again in ten minutes, and that wasn’t nearly enough time to unload nearly twenty years worth of history onto Sirius. No, he would go insane from that much knowledge, which was exactly against what Malia had advised.

“I don’t have enough time to tell you everything that happens in the future, Sirius. But what I am about to tell you is vital, absolutely vital for the good of all of us in the future.” Sirius nodded with a serious sort of smile on his face. “Don’t let Peter be Lily and James’ secret keeper. When the time comes that they move away, I’m not going to tell you where yet, do not under any circumstances let Peter be their secret keeper. I know he’s one of our best friends right now, and do not tell anyone about this, but he’s going to betray us in the worst way possible.”

While Sirius was shocked, he nodded solemnly and ran a hand through his long hair. “I won’t tell anyone, Y/N. Can I fix us, Y/N? I don’t know if you should be letting the key to a happier future rest in my hands.”

“I full heartedly trust that you’ll do some good, whatever the outcome may be. As for fixing us, I hope you can, but depending on what happens we’ll just have to wait and see.” She sighed, “If you want my opinion on it, I think that we both should have waited longer to get married. It was right after James and Lily got married, but we aren’t and never will be them. We both had a lot of growing up to do, so I would take it slowly. Communicate your wants and needs in the relationship and in the end it may not even be us together. But I know you, Siri, don’t let this get in the way of your entire life. The most important part is that you tell James and Lily about Peter.”

She glanced back up the school grounds where students could start to be seen leaving their classes. “You better get back to the castle, Sirius. McGonagall is going to come for your arse and this time the boys aren’t going to be able to cover for you.”

“If they knew where I was, darling, I don’t even think they’d believe me.” Sirius chuckled.

Y/N nodded in agreement and pulled Sirius into a tight hug. “You can do this, sweetheart, and even if you can’t, it will not stop me from loving you any less. Maybe the future wasn’t meant to be changed, but regardless of whether that is true or not, I know that you will try your hardest, Sirius. Just try not to die, okay?”

The boy was still clutching onto her tightly, his tears soaking her rose-colored blouse. “I’ll do my best, darling.”

With one last kiss on the forehead, she smiled at him. “I know you will, Siri.”

Y/N’s arse hit the floor once again, her spine cracking once again. “What’s the year?” She yelled out, reaching for the walls of the black family room.

But it wasn’t there. Upon opening her eyes, she saw James, Lily, and Sirius sitting at a wooden table in her old white cottage. A nice tea set, her grandmother’s as she realized later, sat in the center, along with a large stack of letters. “Y/N, what the bloody hell happened to you, I’ve been worried sick!”

Her red-headed best friend scurried over to her, brushing invisible dirt off her shoulders and pulling her up abruptly. James fixed the glasses on his nose, cleaning them off with his striped jumper. “You look a little disheveled right now, Y/N, what ran you over?”

“You know who she reminds me of right now, Jamie? That crazy witch friend of Dumbledore’s that made her way onto campus back in seventh year.” Lily giggled as she hugged Y/N.

“Merlin’s beard, you’re right!” James walked over to the woman of the hour, ruffling her hair with a smirk on his face. “If you were about twenty years older I’d have no trouble believing you were the same person.”

While Lily and James recalled their memories from the strange woman all those years ago at Hogwarts, Sirius pulled Y/N aside, an arm wrapped around her waist. The warmth radiating from his body was nice, embracing her in a comfort she hadn’t felt in so long.

“I’m going to go ahead and believe that I did something right?” Sirius grabbed her hand, and only then did she notice the coolness of metal sitting on her left ring finger. There sat the single band of gold, a small ruby encased in its plating. She had once joked that diamonds were too overrated, and he went out and got her the most vibrant gem he could find, claiming that it was just like her. But regardless of its shape, size, or type of gem, it was there.

“Yeah, Siri,” Y/N replied with tears in her eyes, “you did good.”

“Oi, Blacks, stop making out and get over here, we got a letter from Minnie!” James yelled, making both wives chuckle. “Harry’s gotten himself in detention for punching Malfoy again.”

“Oh, thank Merlin, the boy deserves a few more good hits.” Sirius laughed.

“McGonagall still talks to us?” Y/N asked in amazement. “You’ve got to get me caught up.”

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ve got all the time in the world.” Sirius gently placed his lips onto hers, and for once in nearly twenty years, Y/N felt at peace. There were no more hasty warnings of the future, no psychotic old men coming after her family, no young girls rushing in to tell her how to fix her screwed up life. Cracked, pink lips moving against her own, his tongue delving into her mouth, and Y/N knew she was finally off the clock.

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kylosgenesis · 3 years

Text

Teardrops on Fire

Synopsis:

Steve Rogers is the last Alpha of the an almost extinct Lycan pack. With only less than 100 members left. Steve must produce an heir to ensure the species survival and reduce the chance of attacks from others. Omegas are rare, and betas have a hard time producing children. Steves reality is finally setting in as his obligation of producing an heir faces a major set back.

Reader is the last suitable omega to mate with Steve, due to the fear of her daughters fate in the pack, her mother kept her hidden from the pack after her own exile. Only her mother, and Bucky's family know of her existence. Bucky is Steve's right hand man, and the packs best warrior! He and the reader developed a friendship and bond over the years, but age forced them to become distant.

What happens when she presents and her first heat cycle comes? Her body is in excruciating pain and a strong fever quickly overcomes her body. Facing the fear of her daughters possible death, her mom calls on the only person who can save her at this point, Alpha Steve! Bucky and the alphas friendship will be tested. The reader will be faced with her love for Bucky or her duty to the pack.

Authors note: unbeta’d . Things will start getting really good in the next two chapters! So just hold on tight, and enjoy the ride. This chapter kinda short, and there is a lot of fluff! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 6: Runaway

You kept having the same nightmare every night! Ever since you came to Nat’s place, you woke up with a feeling of fear.

In your nightmare you saw Bucky covered in blood, but the blood wasn’t his. You never got a chance to see before you woke up in a cold sweat and chills. The first few nights nat didn’t notice when you’d sneak out.

You missed everything about the place you called home! You would run around the village, and just watch in the dark as lights light up through windows, and people got ready to start their days. It had become your little escape! Running reminded you of the wind on your face while hunting, and the adrenaline of a good catch.

On the 4th night you noticed Natasha was up when you walked over to the door. She knew how hard the transition was for you so she just let you do your thing.

You hadn’t seen Steve or Bucky since that day, you where glad you hadn’t had to face them yet, but it made you uneasy!

You still felt Bucky, sometimes he was closer other times more distant.

Returning home from your jog, you found a parked car! The sun still wasn’t fully up yet, so you wondered why someone might be here this early.

As you opened the Emerald door into Nat’s home. You where caught off guard by the smell of an alpha, it was significantly different from Bucky’s scent, but still strong, and commanding! Even though you missed Bucky’s smell, whoever this was had you waltzing towards the scent.

Steve was in the kitchen, the smell of freshly brewed coffee surrounded his already amazing smell. There was eggs on the pan, and bacon sizzling in the oven.

You looked around to try to find Natasha, but she was nowhere in sight.

You only knew Steve from the small glimpse of that day, and by spoken word.

You hoped he’d turn around and notice you before you had to say something. You kept your hands crossed around your body as you walked towards the counter.

As if on cue he turned! You noticed he no longer had a beird, and his longer locks had been trimmed into a neat haircut. He looked handsome!

You heard his trust clear ” Hey! ... Natasha had to go to the pub early, so I thought I’d surprise you with breakfast when you woke up.” He looked at your running clothes, and the lightly soaked hair strands in your face “ I see you beat me to the waking up part” he chuckled to himself.

You could tell he was nervous!

You fumbled with your ponytail and placed your hands over your chest again “ Yeah... I couldn’t sleep so I went on a run! I hope you don’t mind! “ You didn’t know if he was comfortable with the thought of you running around while smelling like Bucky.

But he let out a lighthearted smile “ Not at all! Im glad you’re making yourself at home.

The sound of a timer went off. “Ohhh shoot! I almost forgot...” He turned around pulled the tray of bacon out of the oven.

Everything smelled absolutely delicious! In your 20 years of life, you hadn’t had so many combined foods in your life. You where almost salivating by the time Steve placed a plate of food in front of you.

”I hope this is okay with you? ...you don’t have to ... I’m sorry... I’m really nervous right now!” He placed his hand behind his neck and scratched his head “ I’m Steve! We haven’t properly met”

“I know! I’ve heard about you a lot! Good to put a face to the man” you kept your stance lowered, still threading carefully with him. After all he was an alpha, and if he was anything like his father, looks could be deceiving!

You redirected your focus towards the food to avoid the awkward tension between you two.

“This looks absolutely delicious! You didn’t have to, I could’ve just...”

You looked up and saw his deep blue eyes staring at you, he looked like he was waiting for you to evaporate in front of him. He was attentive, but he also had a tenderness to him to him. You didn’t know why you relaxed! But you started eating, , and stole a few glances here and there.

“I wanted to...I thought maybe I could show you around? I don’t know if you’ve seen much of the place yet outside of early dawn. If you’d like?”

“I...” You wanted to! But your body kept telling you no. He wasn’t your Alpha, you wanted your alpha. It was hard for you to admit how much you missed Bucky. The last days of your heat where spent smelling like him. Your body reacted to his smell in ways you hadn’t experienced before.

But yet here was Steve. You had to admit he was extremely attractive! You caught yourself eyeing the muscles under his tight shirt, and his blue eyes where about to burn right through your soul.

You didn’t know if you where nervios around Steve because of who he was, or because he was making your heart skip three beats every time he looked at you.

“I would love to!” You tried to hide all your thoughts behind a genuine smile, whatever happened you had to make things work with Steve. Even if Bucky owned most of your thoughts, this was new, and exiting for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky’s POV:

He had been on a mission since that day! After he got to his house he immediately collected his things, and took off to the Wakandan pack. He hadn’t even settled in from his last mission, and he was already out on the road again. This time he had more on his mind, and more at stake.

He’d been helping the Wakandan’s build some watchtowers, and some safety points around their property, in order to adquiere a favor from the coven, he’d have to work for it. T’challa was more than kind to provide him a place to stay for the few days.

They where more technology advanced than their pack back home, T’challa’s sister Shuri had attended one of the best universities in the world. It wasn’t often that they allowed people like them in the human world. So when she came home after graduation at 16 she made sure she used her knowledge for good. It was thanks to her he was alive. His arm was a gift! He didn’t even know how to repay them for giving him a second chance.

They where sitting on the roof of one of the lookout towers, just taking a break, and enjoying the scenery. This place had been a great comfort to him after his accident. That’s why he was the one to come for a favor, and not Steve! He’d become family over the years, and the Wakandan’s treated him with as much respect as they’d treated their own Alpha.

Back in the day Shuri had expressed an interest in him! He felt bad seeing her face light up when he talked to her, back then he was too broken to let anyone in. So they just became really good friends, and eventually she outgrew her crush!

She was still the one person he could trust to tell anything to. That’s who’s shoulder he’d cried on the night he arrived under torrencial rain smelling like his omega.

“I don’t think you should go through with this!” Shuri was reading into his silence. She knew what had been bothering him since he arrived!

He thought he was doing what was best for his mate, but really he was running away from her. He didn’t know how to approach her. He had left his mate alone!

He wanted to be with her every day, his body called to her. He could feel her! Every night he dreamt of blood! He kept having a nightmare he couldn’t shake off. It scared him!

“I have to! It wasn’t supposed to be me!” He responded to Shuri, but still kept his gaze set on the horizon.

“Steve’s, a better fit for her!” He turned to face Shuri’s soft expression “I have nothing to offer her. I broke her heart once! I don’t wanna do it again!”

Shuri grabbed his flesh’s hand on hers

“Our ancestors believed if a mating happens its because it was predestined by the great gods... you mating her first was no coincidence my friend!”

“Its too late!” He lowered his gaze to his hand.

“White wolf! What did you do?”

She replied with shock in her voice.

He hesitated to answer as he pushed himself to stand up “ They agreed to undo the mating, and I already gave my blood on it. “ Shuri looked at him with concern.

“You already made a deal with the witches?... have you gone mad? You should’ve waited for me first, or T’challa. Those witches can be tricky.”

They both where avoiding the next part. They just walked in silence back to the main house.

“What did you sacrifice?” Shuri

finally asked. He was caught by surprise by her question.

“I don’t know yet! They didn’t say! They want to meet her first.”

He looked back at her as they paused in front of the house. The doors already opening In automatic to allow them easy entrance.

He didn’t go in, instead he just kept his gaze down. “I’m going home tonight! I’ll be back for the full moon. That’s when the ritual will take place!”

She was concerned for both of them, her pack knew the witches way too well! No magic ever came easily.

“Careful! They’re ancient magic users! You never know what kinda sacrifice blood magic demands”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Steve had been walking around the village for a while. You stopped at a small building, most rooms where empty but one had a few desks. Entering further you saw some kids drawings and the room came alive with so many colors. As you looked around you heard running come towards you. Steve didn’t looked scared so it didn’t alarm you when a set of boys no order than ten ran into the room, followed by a girl around half their age.

“Steve!” They ran and tackled him. He let himself be through down by the kids embrace.

You noticed a woman walk in after them, like Nat she had red hair, only hers was a lighter shade. Her eyes where blue and kind.

“kid’s, what have I told you about manners? ”

She put her hands on her waist, as she waited for the kids to answer.

“Sorry Mrs. Maximoff! ” they all responded simultaneously as they stood up from the floor, with Steve following along, shaking some dust off of himself.

“Come on Wanda don’t be hard on them! They’re just exited! “

Wanda looked at the kids, and Steve.

“You are all lucky Mr. Rogers is here! Now go to your desks, and finish those math worksheets I handed before lunch! “ the kids ran to the desks, and started working.

“I don’t know how you do it Steve, but they love you!” Wanda approached Steve with a smile. He took her in for a hug and then tuned to you.

“This is Wanda! She’s a teacher here at the school, and a close friend of mine” he smiled so much when he talked. It made you feel like you had knows everyone he’d introduced in a deep and personal way.

“Nice to meet you Wanda!” You went to shake her hand, but she immediately pulled you into a hug.

You had never had this much human contact, but you felt so welcome! The whole village had treated you with such kindness so far. You wandered if it was truly you or just cause you where with Steve.

“You like kids?” You asked while making small stalk

“Yeah! We don’t have a lot of them around anymore, but I like seeing them! They give me hope.. I guess?” He kept walking with you, hands tucked in his pockets “ I actually help teach from time to time! We have around 15 kids, all different ages! Trust me! It gets hard to handle them as they get older” he chuckled and looked at you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No one said anything about the bite scar on your neck. Even if they noticed, Steve shook it off easily, and changed the subject before it started.

“Can they smell me ?” You asked as you headed into the vintage looking building.

“They can!... it’s faded, but anyone that’s been around Bucky can tell!” he paused as he looked at you, hands placed over your shoulders. “ No one here will judge you for it! Bucky did what he had to do to save your life and where going to fix it I promise”

You nodded, as he opened the door and the room came to life in front of you. It was beautiful! The walls where filled of vintage art, the place had enough that room to orient yourself, but dark enough to relax. It smelled of chocolate and honey combined. You spotted Nat behind a bar, a collection of bottles behind her!

“Hey guys! How was the date?” Nat was drying a small glass, and winked at Steve as she spoke.

“It wasn’t a date Nat, I was just showing her around” he looked at you, shoulders hunched, and blush on his cheeks.

Nat had embarrassed him! You could see Nat’s satisfaction on her face as she lined up glasses in a row on a drawer.

You decided to make Steve feel better, by responding “It’s been wonderful! Everyone’s been very kind” Steve looked relieved!

“Nat, I thought you said you had a small pub, this place is huge!” You said as you tuned into a circle admiring every detail of the place. “It looks lovely!”

“Well it feel small once you get used to it!” She was juggling multiple tasks at once, reaching for a box over her head

“I got it!” Steve replied and jumped to her aid.

“Thanks, I don’t know why he insists of storing stuff up there. Just because he’s tall, doesn’t mean I’m tall! ” she stated back at Steve as he handed her the box.

“That’s Bucky for you!” Steve replied, thinking nothing of it.

Your eyes lit up at the mention of his name. Both Steve and Nat noticed how your expression changed.

“He helps run the place whenever he’s home! He’s one of my best bartenders... with him being out of town I’ve been juggling everything the best that I can”

“I think you’re doing great!” Steve replied

“And I think you should pick up bar tending as one of your hidden talents “ she replied back with a sassy attitude.

You looked around the place! It didn’t seem so bad, you had to find something to do to keep yourself busy.

“I could do it!” You spoke, both Steve and nat turned the heads towards you in shock.

“I mean” you stumbled with your words as you felt both their stares on you” ... I can help you here if you’d like? I’m a quick learner!” Natasha looked at Steve as if awaiting for approval.

Steve was a bit hesitant, but looking at your hopeful puppy eyes immediately made him want to make you happy. “I think that you’ll be a great idea!”

You made a little happy jump at the news.

“ You can join me tomorrow when I come open, and I’ll start you off on getting familiar with the place.” Nat was wiping her hands on her pants as she spoke. A smile on her face!

“Thank you Nat!” Steve leaned over the counter for a hug. You stayed close behind him.

“Well, it’s getting late so I’m going to take her back now! I hope it’s not a wild night for you” he told her as he turned to leave

Nat yelled back at him from behind the counter “ You just jinxed it!” as she threw a towel at him. He tossed it back playfully!

“See you at home, Nat! ” you waved goodbye.

As Steve tugged on the pub door to leave, it opened from the other side.

A fall frame came into view, and your heart missed a beat. Your eyes met Bucky’s for the first time since that day. After a few seconds, your heart tugged at your strings. He noticed Steve, and walked past you towards the bar.

@dottirose @tanyaherondale @iloveshawnieboi @marmite79 @austynparksandpizza @nerdgirljen @exposition-belongs-somewhere @patzammit @connie326 @blessedwedgie

#bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #alpha bucky x omega reader #alpha bucky #alpha steve rogers #alpha steve x omega reader #omegaverse #alpha bucky barnes

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courtlyharlequin · 4 years

Note

Hey!! I was wondering if i can have a candied rose frappuccino with floyd please. Thanks 😊

Sugar Addict

Warning(s): mild spice, lowkey spicy ending

A/N: I went feral. What is plot? I ended up writing more than expected. Also, I was too lazy to proofread so I apologize for my horrible grammar. Feel free to correct me! I should probably get a beta reader...

Context: This is an AU. Yes, a coffeeshop AU, but some things are different. These characters are aged up and NRC is actually a college.

It was unexplainable, this feeling. Twilight. The sun was setting. Traffic ensued streets as people poured out of work and into their vehicles, all with one destination: home. But for you, home was the last place you wanted to go. You were a student who did not need to fret over something like a job. You had the convenience of asking for a ride or traveling by foot to reach local destinations not far from your oh so prestigious school. At this moment, at twilight, you were experiencing the convenience of the latter. Well, a normal person would not call it a convenience. These days made taking a stroll an absurd pastime. But right now, it was both a convenience and a pastime. The roads were clogged by a massive sea of cars. Your nose crinkled at the stench of gasoline. Choosing to traverse by foot was more pragmatic. You were in a rush as well. Your destination might close any minute now!

From the inside of any of the vehicles on the street, you were akin to a hooligan. A scrambling, mad hooligan. Not only were you running in the opposite direction of where these cars were going, you were also running as your life depended on it. Therefore, you were a crazy person who was running into the city suburbs at a somewhat late hour rather than going home. Mothers in said vehicles shook their heads in dismay, praying their children were safe at home. But, you could not care any less. Night Raven College’s headmaster was very lenient on curfews and was susceptible to bribery if all else fails. But to be fair, your destination was not something to be frowned upon. It was something to laugh at, really. The place you were so desperate to get to was none other than a café.

More specifically, Café Rosé . Cheesy, chessy, yes, you were aware. The café was notorious for their supposed love potion of a latte, but you weren’t coming for that. You wanted to try their Candied Rose Frappuccino. You were a lover of all sweets; You could never live with yourself if you didn’t try it. Of course, this coffee shop was not going anywhere nor was this beverage a limited one. You simply were in the mood for it. It was craving, a whim, a last minute decision.

You sighed heavily, leaning against the café’s exterior walls. With one deep breath, you pushed the rose-tinted glass door open. The chime signaled your entrance. You braced yourself for a barista to question your hazed, flushed state… but it never came. Still heaving, you scanned the shop. You made your way to the counter to check for employees in the back room.

Thud!

“Hey, Shrimpy! Café’s closed,” a voice glowered.

You spun your heel, making eye contact with a barista with a disheveled appearance– his aquamarine hair was slightly unkempt, his tie was unraveled and dangled loosely around his neck, dress shirt unbuttoned down to the point where his collar bone was exposed with his sleeves rolled up which furthermore accentuated his lean yet muscular figure. It was all too much to take in. He put his weight onto the nearest table. Ah, the thud came from a chair he just stacked… but nevermind that-!! The moment he moved into that position, he exposed a bit of his cleavage. Hot damn he might be lean at first glance, but he was built like a Greek god. This should be illegal! A barista should not be dressing– let alone be looking– like that. Everyone would suffer from a cardiac arrest from such a heartthrob! You quickly averted your attention to the café’s schedule.

“The business hours sign says you guys close at seven. It’s six fifty-two right now,” you said, holding up your phone.

“Close enough. Get lost.”

He walked over to you suavely, leaning over you and against the door frame to flip the open-closed sign over so that it’s closed side faced the streets. It was meant to be a gesture of mockery and intimidation, but holy hell… you were flustered more than anything. He was tall from afar but up close he was huge!! You even got a better look at his chest. Well defined, if you don’t say so yourself. Wait–

You shoved him back, “Not even for a to-go order?”

“Nope. Don’t feel like it.”

“But you’re not closed yet!”

“But I don’t wanna,” he whined.

“Why?”

“What?”

“I asked you ‘why’?”

“Can’t you just come back tomorrow and let me call it a day? I’m tired.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I ran all the way here just to get something–”

“Should’ve done it earlier,” he shrugged, returning to his chore.

“Okay. Fine. Is there anyone else here to serve me? Since you’re too ‘tired’?”

“Sorry, Shrimpy, but they all went home.”

“Ugh! Don’t call me something that makes us seem so familiar. I’m not that short anyway...” you huffed.

He snickered, walking behind the register, “Alright then, Shr-im-p-y~! What would you like to order that you just had to come in at the last minute today?”

While you were relieved he gave into serving you a drink, the way he enunciated your unwanted nickname was irksome.

“I’ll have one Candied Rose Frappuccino.”

“Oh thank god it isn’t that latte.”

“You mean the Rosé Latte?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, loudly tapping on the cash register, “Everyone has been flocking here and only ordering that. I’m so tired of making the same order everyday.”

“Sorry, I’m not into hot beverages. Just a person who likes sweets.”

“Cute,” he cooed, handing you your receipt.

You watched as he messily wrote “Shrimpy” onto your cup.

“Can I get your name?” you asked.

“My name?”

“Yeah.”

“What for?”

“Somehow you’re slowly becoming my favorite barista.”

Partially a lie, partially the truth. He was your favorite because he was so fine. You only wanted his name in case you ever decided to write a review on your bitter first meeting with him or if you came across the manager. Petty, yes, but it annoyed you that much.

“Floyd, Floyd Leech,” he grinned.

You checked the receipt and sat down at the barstools in front of the barista’s worktable, watching him intently as he began to work on your order. Well, half your attention was actually on his hand movements. Your mind was having an internal battle about how shameful you were to fantasize about his back muscles, mentally undressing him. The fact that there were only you two in the coffeehouse did not help either. The silence, at its surface, was calming, but, at its core, it was awkward. With the occasional clinks of utensils and the sound of coffee being brewed and blended into a frappuccino, the lack of noise left your mind to wander.

“Just because he’s good looking does not make up for the fact that he was rude,” you chided yourself.

Floyd cocked his head: “Hey. What are you staring at?”

He looked behind him as if there was actually something of interest. You saw your drink in his hand. He held it close to his chest, withholding it, waiting for your answer.

“Oh? Um.. nothing? I was just zoning out. I’m tired from running all the way here.”

“Shrimpy’s no fun,” he pouted.

“My name is (y/n), not Shrimpy.”

“You’re short, jumpy, and huggable like a shrimp~”

“I am not that short!”

“Oh-!!! You remind me of Goldfish. You both get so mad for some reason,” he laughed.

“Listen here–”

The barista took a swig of your order. He didn’t take the dome-shaped lid out. He didn’t even drink it with a straw. He just… straight up… put his lips on the lid and drank the contents from the rim. You halted your rant, appalled by his audacity.

“You talk too much, Shrimpy.”

In this total silence, someone, if there were someone here, would have heard your sanity and patience snapped.

“Listen here, Floyd Leech. That was awfully rude of you. Actually, from the beginning, you were so rude! From getting into my personal bubble to calling me names when I told you to stop. And now you drink my order? And right in front of me too?! So, so, rude-!!! I just–”

“Wow. What an expansive vocabulary you have,” he glared, twiddling with the collar of his shirt and somehow exposing more of his collarbone.

You leaned over the counter, reaching for your beverage, heat traveling up your cheeks, “I’m not done yet! Just because you’re hot does not mean you can dress like that and automatically get a free pass to do these things! Do you have any idea how distracting that was?? Now–wHAAA!!”

You pounced at him. Your toes hung on the edge of the barstool, your left arm wrapped around Floyd’s neck, and your right arm stretched out in an attempt to reach the drink in Floyd’s hand. Much to your annoyance, he raised it higher than you could ever hope to reach. If he took anymore steps back, you would most likely flop onto the barista’s side of the table face-first. With the drink in his left hand, his weight (and yours) was shifted onto his right arm which conveniently propped itself against the countertop behind him. You wondered what people on the road thought when they saw what was going on inside the café.

It was early evening with a decent amount of cars on the street before the storefront. Nearly twenty minutes since you came into the café and here you are– without your order, curfew approaching steadily, and no sign of getting your frappuccino anytime soon. Instead, you were sprawled across the counter, a test of your flexibility and modesty.

“I didn’t really think Shrimpy was this bold, this naughty,” Floyd chuckled.

Ah shit. Your anger got the best of you. Your verbal filter was removed and all of your thoughts slipped past your conscious and common sense. His sly grin did not help at all. Your close proximity enhanced your blush. The way you clung onto him caused his shirt to slide off his left shoulder and with the position you were in, you had a front seat to all his glory. What a sticky wicket this was.

“I just wanted something sweet to drink,” you panted, fisting his shirt in your petite palms, frustration washing over you.

You were on the verge of tears. Floyd sighed, lowering the cup just a bit, and took a few steps back as he carefully let you slide onto the barista’s side of the counter. However, your beverage was still out of reach.

“You’re such a snowflake,” he mumbled.

You clung to him, still, using him as leverage to reach your order, “Am not. This wouldn’t have happened if you just let me have my coffee!”

“You mean this hell of a sugary confection??”

“Yes? I mean I wouldn’t know because I haven’t even tried it yet,” you grunted, jumping at it like a fish trying to catch the bait.

“Oi, (y/n), can I kiss you?”

That was the first time he used your actual name instead of “Shrimpy” ever since you met. You would rejoice, but the following words were out of the question. His tone made it sound more like a demand than a request of consent.

“Excuse me?!”

“You wanted to try the drink right?”

“Yes, but it’s right there in your hand! So if you would just let me have it, I’ll stop annoying you!”

“The taste is lingering in my mouth. It’s so sweet. I wanna get rid of it…”

“Get some water.”

He squeezed his right arm around your waist, bringing you closer to his face, “But I want to kiss you~!”

“Well, since you drank out of it, if you let me have it, then we can have an indirect kiss!”

The temperature of the coffee shop was just unbearable at this point. And worst of all, this was self-inflicted. You didn’t have to tolerate him. Frankly, you should have left the moment he told you the café was “closed”. You didn’t have to pounce on him and end up in this painstakingly uncomfortable position either. Moreover, you were sweating from embarrassment from your suggestion. An indirect kiss! That was such a childish thing to fret about and here you were, regretting your own words.

“That’s no fun,” Floyd said, taking another sip of your frappuccino.

“Hey–mmpff!!”

Despite how he manhandled you thus far, he kissed you very tenderly. His lips were soft, warm even. As much as you wanted to push him back and scold him for taking away something as precious as your first kiss, you couldn't. Everything just… felt right. Your grip on his shirt loosened. Before, you held them in your palms in anger, a way of intimidation, a sign to show him that you weren’t going to back down even if he was teasing you with no mercy. But now, you held Floyd’s collar to close the space between you two. You were this close to each other, but it wasn’t close enough.

You gasped as he nibbled your lip. Floyd took it upon himself to invite his tongue over to your wet cavern. A sugary substance flooded your taste buds. Ah… he never swallowed your drink.... Not that it mattered. You gulped it in one breath, continuing on with your tango of tongues. If Floyd wasn’t supporting your waist, you might’ve melted away into this temporary bliss. You momentarily broke away from him to catch your breath. The distance between you two was barely five centimeters. He growled lowly, taking two steps forward, pushing you towards the bar. He smashed his lips against yours, a clear sign for you not to do that again. A fire lit in his eyes. Floyd hungrily bit your bottom lip, earning a whimper in response. Without breaking away from your mouth, only turning his head to take you at a different angle, he hoisted you up and set you and the beverage down on the countertop. Now, with both hands free, he cupped your cheeks. You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist and grabbing his wrists, drawing away his hands.

“W-Wait…” you exhaled.

“...did you not like that?” he cocked his head.

“No... No… I liked it… I liked it a lot… I just… S-Slow down…”

Floyd reached for the ends of your hair, twirling with the strand, “Take your time…”

Perhaps it was purely the heat of the moment or lust, but you judged him too soon. In this brief period of time, he was being considerate of you. He traced your figure with his eyes, grinning from ear to ear at your bruised lips, bright pink from the dozens of kisses he gave you. You were just as disheveled as he was.

“...More..”

“You sure?”

“I’m thirsty,” you pouted.

Floyd let out a chortle before sipping your coffee, “Alright, then Shrimpy.”

You prepared yourself for yet another rough session. Before he took your lips, he smoothed back his hair, revealing his forehead. The gesture caught you off guard thus you stiffened as he brushed his lips against yours. By gods, it was as if he wasn't even trying to be provocative. Was it possible for someone to be this seductive without actual effort? At this rate, you were going to miss curfew..

“Floyd…” you moaned, intertwining your fingers with his as he pushed you down onto the counter.

“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry...”

“Floyd… No… T-There’s people watching-!!!”

“So?”

“Does that not bother you?!”

“Not when they’ll know you’re mine~”

You sat up, “I’m a bit too shy for that. A-And I would like for my first time to be private…”

You left the last part trail off in embarrassment, fiddling with his necktie which somehow managed to stay on his person despite everything that just happened.

“Oh? Is Shrimpy a virgin?” he teased.

“So what if I am?!”

“Nothing. Just thought a cute Night Raven College girl like you wouldn’t be since you were really good~”

He earned himself a playful smack on the shoulder to which he responded with a sarcastically scoff. This was so unfair...

“How did you know that I went there?”

“Hmm must be because of the shirt you’re wearing underneath that hoodie,” he said, feigning innocence.

Oh. He’s the perceptive type. You didn’t think much of his ministrations (other than them being tantalizing). It seemed that he took note of every detail about you. At this point, you were crimson as a tomato.

“Also, because I go there as well,” he snickered.

You smacked his shoulder once more.

“I’ve never seen you before.”

“Different years, probably.”

“Maybe..”

“Also, I’m always stuck at the Mostro Lounge so you can find me there,” he winked.

“Ahhh! Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?”

“Giving me two answers and mixed signals.”

Floyd tilted your head upwards and pecked your lips, holding you as if you were a figure of glass: “What about this is mixed?”

“You were terribly rude before… and you probably just want someone to bed with for the night,” you puffed your cheeks.

How your body was betraying you… Your legs were still wrapped around his waist and the fervor was not going to dissipate anytime soon.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve had my eyes on you for a long time, (y/n).”

He raised your hand and pressed a chaste kiss on each individual knuckle.

Oh god. Your heart couldn’t bear it anymore. The way your name rolled off the tip of his tongue made honey taste like summer– hot, overwhelming, but still something to look forward to.

“Since when?” you exhaled.

“Since your first visit to the Lounge.”

He switched to your other hand, continuing the ritual.

“I’ve only been there once.”

“You were such a cute Shrimpy that I couldn’t forget about you~”

“That can’t be right–”

“You just have to accept it!”

“It doesn’t make up for how you treated me before.”

He placed your hands on his cheek, “Sorry, Shrimpy. The scent you released was too irresistible.”

Instinctively, you sniffed your clothes, “I don’t smell anything.”

“It might be just an eel thing*, then. But just so you know, I’ve been trying to find you for a while now. I’m so happy that I did. You’re mine now, Shrimpy. Your smell is intoxicating,” he cooed, leaning closer to your ear, “It makes me go feral~”

You squealed at his sudden remark, unable to regain your composure. Your words melted into gibberish and murmurs as you buried your face into his chest once more.

“You’re such a creep,” you whined.

“You don’t mean that~”

“I don’t…”

“We should get going before curfew though. Help me clean up, will ya?”

“Okay.”

Floyd planted a kiss on your forehead, “Thank you, Shrimpy.”

That nickname wasn’t as obnoxious as it was before, huh.

“I’ll reward you once we get to my room,” he snickered over his shoulder as he left for the back room.

Wait– WHAT?!?!?

“H-Hold on-!!”

“Relax, Shrimpy, ’m not gonna do anything to you… not yet, anyway. I’m just sayin’ in case we don’t make it before curfew. Azul needs me for Mostro Lounge tomorrow, he has no choice, but to let me in. If anyone can convince the headmaster, it’s probably him,” he gave you a thumbs up.

“Good to know. But… I’ve been meaning to ask about Mostro Lounge and this café. If you work for Azul then why work here too?”

“He doesn’t pay me. I’m just helping out of obligation.”

“What? How come?”

“He’s my friend?”

“You sound unsure.”

“You made it sound like I’m gullible,” he laughed, stacking the last of the chairs.

“Well? Shall we go, Shrimpy?”

You took his hand without hesitation. This feeling– it was addicting. You only knew him for a less than a day, but it felt right. It felt meant to be... as if you were soulmates.

Bonus:

“Oya? Floyd, what happened to your back? There’s scratches all over it. Are you alright?”

“ s’nothin’, Jade. I just… had a fun night~”

“Please. You and (y/n) were so loud. Please reserve those kinds of activities for somewhere more private– not a dormitory with thin walls,” Azul chided.

His brother’s eyes widened, but he didn’t question it any further. Jade curtly closed his gym locker and headed out towards the field.

Azul followed in suit with a huff.

* Note: Female moray eels release an odor in order to attract males to mate with them

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst oneshot #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #event fic #cafe rose event #mild spice #god help me

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league-of-thots · 4 years

Text

Leave Me a Message

Pairing: Hawks x reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, some suggestive themes, um gl with this? im told by my beta it was very sad

Words: 9.4k

A/N: so um. this happened. First off, if you’d like to go break your heart some more, go check out the MASTERLIST because everyone worked super hard on these and there are some really amazing writers.

Og, this was supposed to be 3k, and then it just kept going and im suffering ok jesus that was so long. it was also kind of a way for me to get out some of my own inner turmoil around some stuff and i fucking loved writing it. ...not to be lame but yes i did cry writing it (shhh) anyways, i hope you enjoy? as much as you can enjoy angst of course.

Hawks doesn’t do commitment. He’d said that from the start, that he wasn’t out looking for someone to try and grab his heart from out his chest, that he was simply looking for someone to keep his body company. He told you that he was tired of the press making a big deal of him being single, that all you would have to is hang out with him a bit, dates and couple things. He said that he’d been missing some company, that it would be amazing to have someone to spend some of his (very little) time off of patrol with. It was simple to you, who wouldn’t take the opportunity to be on the arm of a successful pro hero? Who would turn down the chance to learn more about the elusive Hawks, the one who’d baffled the media’s attempts to discover anything about him at all?

You told yourself you weren’t going to make the mistake of getting attached, he was the number two hero after all, he had so much choice. There was no way you were going to be an idiot about it, this was only for some curiosity about the man.

You enter the bar, a little awestruck at how clean and upscale it was. Of course, it wasn’t too surprising given the fact that this was the number 2 pro hero. He was bound to have some cash to throw around for a good time, plus he’d already told you that he’d be paying for the night.

How could you refuse him?

The night started out slow, the two of you lightly discussing regular day to day topics, but it intrigued you how carefully he spoke about everything. You didn’t really know him but you could’ve sworn that he had a plan with everything that he said, that everything he did was carefully calculated. To be honest, it was a little chilling, but as the alcohol started flowing along with the conversation, he relaxed a bit and you had to admit that he was a really fun person to talk to.

The two of you had gotten closer in the circular booth as the night had gone on, blaming the loud surroundings and dim light so that you could see and hear each other better. He had this dry wit that left you struggling for breath as you laughed at his jokes and his teasing. He seemed to be enjoying himself too, but honestly, you couldn’t really read him at all.

It was getting into the wee hours in the morning when the conversation took a more serious turn, the conversation starting to be about what this was, and what this would be.

He was quite direct that he’d make it worth your while

“No offense, love, but if I’m being completely honest, I’m just not good at relationships. They’re not my thing. But I’m lonely and bored, and honestly? You caught my eye.” He’d said this in a low voice to you at the bar, his breath tickling your ear and you flutter your eyelashes up at him.

“Are you asking me for a night of fun, Mr. Hawks?” you say coyly.

“Maybe a night, maybe more if I like you.” He leans in to whisper to you, “You’ve got a pretty good chance babe.”

“You’re not worried about me not liking you?” you weren’t really taken aback; it was to be expected from the number two hero that if you came to meet him, you were interested in him for sure.

He leans back, with his hands behind him. “If I’m reading your body language right, and I’m pretty good at that y’know, then I’d say you’ve been pretty excited the whole night.”

You laugh a bit at that. “Well, you’re not wrong I guess.”

“Then I have nothing to worry about at all.”

Your arrangement with Hawks started as a few dates in more secluded public areas, the first being a movie which you’d taken a bus to get too. When you’d gotten there, you went inside like he had asked you too. There, you saw him in the furthest corner, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn’t working well and you had to stifle a giggle as you walked up to him.

The only reason that people didn’t seem to be coming up to him was the fact that the normally upbeat and friendly hero was closed off, and looking rather downtrodden.

“Hey, Hawks.” You say, bumping his shoulder with your own playfully. “How’re you doing.”

“Better now that you’re here,” he smoothly slips his arm into yours, face morphing into a slightly happier expression. “Would you happen to be a fan of popcorn and a drink at the movies, Y/N?”

“Of course! How can you have one without the other?” He smiles at that, a quick upturn of his lips and its quickly gone again as he guides you to the counter to get some snacks and drinks. It wasn’t supposed to be an incredibly exciting movie, but it was supposed to be decent enough that the two of you could enjoy it together and relax without really having to push through any awkward tension that could still be around with the two of you being relative strangers.

It was like a neutral ground to start off the fake relationship, while the two of you could learn about one another. It had to look real in public after all, Hawks wanted people off his back.

Although, the last night the two of you had spent together after the bar had certainly been real. It had also left you so sore you could barely walk the next day, but that was another story for another day.

The two of you sit down in one of the further rows, but not in the back. You have a good view of the screen; you notice as you sit down with Hawks. You look over to him, and see that carefully guarded neutral expression on his face again. It’s almost as if there’s a mask he has under the skin of his face, that snaps back into place whenever it falters for a little, or he actually shows something of his true thoughts.

It was almost eerie how well he did it, how second nature it seemed to him. No wonder the press couldn’t get shit on him, you thought, he’s not exactly an open book to read, and he’s actively trying to make it harder for people. You wondered if it was just because he preferred his privacy or if he had a really big secret that he felt he needed to keep.

That was almost amusing, thinking the reason Hawks was so mysterious is some large secret that there was pressure on him to keep.

The opening previews shook you out of your thoughts, seeing one for a book to movie adaptation that was coming out soon and you were super pumped to see. It had your favourite director working on it, and they said they’d worked closely with the author during the script writing process you and were really hopeful that it would turn out well.

You looked to Hawks to whisper this to him in excitement and he leans over so you could whisper it so as to not disturb the people around you. When you’re done, he turns to whisper back in your ear, “Guess we’ll be back at the movies soon then.” He watches your face become a bright smile, a little heat in your face from excitement and a little embarrassment as he was giving you his full attention as you fangirled a bit.

The movie was actually pretty decent, you thought during the middle of it. The acting carried the script though, and they were lucky at how much chemistry there was between the actors given most of them hadn’t done movies with each other before. A little way after that, Hawks leaned back in his chair, actually more relaxed than you’d ever seen him before, as he brought his arm back around you. You rolled your eyes at the little cliché he’d performed, but still found it sweet. You could feel the warmth he gave off and it made you feel comfortable and safe.

After the movie, the two of you parted ways, but not before he gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek, and the promise to see you soon.

“I’m going to be really busy the next few weeks, so it might be a little while before we can do something like this again.” He warned, “Things are really picking up with criminal activity and such.”

“If you were going to be so busy you should be at home resting,” you scold, and then your eyes widen in shock at what you’d just blurted out. “I, uh- I mean…” you try to recover but Hawks was laughing hard.

“Trying to get rid of me so soon? I thought the date was pretty fun, myself.” He teases, seeing what you’ll do next.

“It was! Just um-, you’ve got to be safe out there and stuff. So, you should get your rest, I would understand if you had to cancel because of that.” You finish a little lamely.

“That’s very sweet, Y/N, it really is. But honestly? Doing something like this is way more of a recharge for me. Makes me relax a little bit. So, thank you for the nice date. That is if you’ll have me?” he cocks an eyebrow with a crooked smile.

“Of course, now go get some sleep, bird brain.” He chuckles, and with a wave he’s off, streaking through the air. You’re hit with a bit of a gust of wind, but seeing him fly up close? Totally worth it.

You turn around and start walking to the bus stop that’ll take you back home, it had been quite a good date and you were in high spirits.

You could see this whole arrangement working out quite well for you, if that first date was anything to go by.

The fourth date was the one that he really started to show you what actually lay beneath the mask that he put on all the time. The two of you had been texting over a few weeks, and because he was so busy, a couple short get togethers happened, but this was the first time he had a whole day off for a long time.

The topics the two of you had been texting about varied to asking simple questions about what kind of tea was your favourite, to what you thought would happen to you after you died. That had been a weird night, but you saw the next day it had been because Hawks had been on patrol and had been unable to completely save people from a villain. It had been one person out of hundreds, but you could feel his guilt through the screen.

Among the lighter topics though, you found out that Hawks hadn’t really ever learned how to cook or bake. He said that he never learned from anyone, so he mostly did takeout and easy to make meals. You decided it would be fun to teach him how to bake, there were a few sweet treats that were easy enough to do. Certainly, he’d be able to handle it, you thought, especially since he made so many other difficult things look easy.

Hawks, in fact, could not handle it, you’d later find out.

The doorbell rings, and you take off your apron that you’d been wearing to get the baking started so that it wouldn’t take as long. There was still a fair amount of work to do, and the icing had to be made. You’re really hoping he enjoys it, it’s a new idea and you’re a little nervous.

You greet him and take his coat to hang it up as he takes off his shoes, he’s wearing cargo pants and unmatching socks, one pink and the other grey, along with a black t-shirt. You let him look around a bit before directing him to the kitchen a little nervously.

“Um, so I was thinking because you said you’d never really baked before that we could try and make a little something?” you’re fiddling with the hem of your shirt as he grabs your hands to stop you from doing that.

“That sounds like a really fun idea, Y/N. It’s really cute.” He gives you a quick smile as you smile at the praise. “Now. What are we making Chef?”

You giggle a bit at that. “I was thinking a carrot cake with some buttercream icing.”

“Well that doesn’t sound easy.” You shush him.

“It is! And I’ve already done some of it, so we can eat it sooner.”

He looks unconvinced. “I don’t know if I can handle this.”

“It’s baking,” you scoff. “You save people for a living, I’m pretty sure you can handle some baking.”

Famous last words, the start wasn’t to bad, Hawks fallowing your instructions carefully. It was when he got confident that he first fucked it up.

“So, now all you have to do is whip this with the blender for a few minutes around the bowl. When it starts getting a thicker consistency let me know, because that’s when you have to hand do it.” You’d decided on cinnamon rolls with a nice smooth icing on top that would become a glaze.

“Got it,” he chirps, putting the metal parts of the hand mixer in the bowl before starting it up and putting to medium high like you’d instructed him to do. “Maybe you were right, sweets, this isn’t too bad.”

“See? Even a bird brain like you can get it!” you laugh.

And then it happened.

After you said that to him, he turned around to give you a playful spank on the ass, forgetting he’d been holding the bowl on the counter in place with his hand. At the same time, he lifted the hand holding the mixer.

You both let out a sharp cry of surprise, you from getting slapped and both of you from the loud crash and the bowl goes flying and the icing gets flung everywhere. You look at him slack-jawed as he frantically turns off the hand mixer and gives you a sheepish look.

“Oops?” he says with a nervous smile.

“Oh. My god.” You get out before you start laughing so hard you’re keeled over, your stomach starting to hurt. “What the fuck Hawks? Hahah! How did you manage to get the bowl to fly that far!”

He scratches his hair and laughs along with you. “I’m actually really unsure, I honestly thought that I was going to get through this without messing it up. Sorry I ruined the icing, Y/N.”

You wave your hand. “It’s fine, cinnamon rolls are still good without the toppings.”

“Hold up.” You turn over and he has a calculating look on his face. “Is this why you did most of the mixing before I got here.”

“Noooooo…… of course not.” You say unconvincingly, knowing he already knows the answer.

“You’re so mean to me,” he pouts, sticking out his bottom lip like a child.

“Hey, but now we can still eat the cinnamon roles! So that’s a good thing.” You say brightly, swiping a bit of the icing with your finger and popping it in your mouth. He looks down at you and for once his eyes crinkle with a genuine smile and your heart skips a beat. He’s absolutely stunning, you think.

“Uh, let’s get – let’s get this all cleaned up, alright?” you get out turning yourself around to distract your thoughts from him. And his eyes, when they crinkle, and oh my god he’s such a cutie, what the fuck?

You somehow manage to avoid acting like a fool for the remainder of the time while the two of you clean up, trading words and jokes with one another, the conversation flowing like a lazy stream.

When they were done you squealed out in excitement and grabbed some mitts to take out the pan but as soon as you open the oven door, some feathers zip in to grab it. You look over at him and he gives you an innocent smile.

“Wouldn’t want you to accidentally drop them.” You scowl.

“I’m not the one who made a mess of the whole kitchen, you dork.”

“Fair enough, where do I put these?”

“Just put the tray on the pads in the dining room, I’m going to make some tea.”

“Alright.”

Once the water is heated, you grab a few different packets to see what he wants, and make your way over to the table with him. You gesture at the tea packets, and he takes the Camomile tea and you open the kettle to let him drop it in.

“Now we just have to wait for the tea to steep and the rolls to cool down! Not too bad if I do say so myself.” You tell him happily. It had been really fun watching him do something so carefree, he seemed more relaxed than normal.

“It was really fun Y/N.” he said with what you thought genuine sincerity. “I never got to really do this before, and it was a lot different than I thought it would be baking with someone.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it Hawks!”

“Uh, you could call me Takami? That’s my family name. Keigo Takami.” He says, stumbling over it a bit, as if the words were trying to rush themselves out of his mouth.

You pour out the tea into the cups you have, and you watch him dive into the rolls, face lit up. He really likes his sweets, and he says how good they are and how he was so amazed he’d had a part in making them.

“Most of the stuff I try to cook either tastes bland, gross, or its burnt.” He mentions offhandedly.

You look at him closely. “Seriously? I’m going to have to teach you how to cook so you can actually get some healthy food into you aren’t I?”

“You don’t have to do that!”

“Yes, I do.” He doesn’t argue with you, knowing that the battle is lost, and accepts it with a sigh.

The two of you finish the night by watching a movie, which leads to something, which leads to something else… It was a pretty awesome date night you think as you drift off to sleep.

Although doing ‘couple-like’ things in public, you found the two of you were growing closer as friends, at least, outside of any bedrooms. There was something free and liberating about being a friend (with benefits) to Keigo, and you got to glimpse the tiny parts of his life that had physical forms, whether it be photos, or actions or stories.

The more you learned though, the more you wanted to know more about him, to understand him and be there for him.

You saw how lonely he actually was, he really wasn’t joking when he’d said that to you on the first night the two of you had seen each other in person. How his life when he wasn’t being the Number Two Hero was empty as if he didn’t really know what to do with it, as if he were lost and didn’t really know himself either.

The only picture he had of people in his house was one with him, and a middle-aged woman with weary eyes that must’ve been his mother. The photo was a little yellowed, and a little crumpled, but the frame was simple wood with intricate carvings on the side. There was a wooden flower beside it.

What had happened to him? To his family?

Sometimes when you called him Keigo as you entered a room and he wasn’t facing you; he would shudder as if someone had a knife pressed to his throat, and there was nothing that he could do about it. Or when sometimes he would dose off and mumble in his sleep for someone to help him, he promises he’d do better next time… You always tried to wake him up gently when that happened, and he’d thank you and then shut down any attempts to talk about it. Every time. Not a single word.

So, you let it be.

Obviously, he didn’t know how to not be alone, and it stung you to the very core that nobody else was really there for him.

Everyone needs a friend, and you were happy to be that friend for him.

You realized the predicament you were in suddenly one day as you were going into your regular café for your morning coffee, ordering one for yourself and one for the winged hero who you planned to spend some time before patrol with. You didn’t even second guess ordering his coffee just as he liked it, excited to see the smile on his face when you’d give it to him. He’d still get surprised by the little gestures you’d do to show him that you cared, that it wasn’t just a game for you, that you were his friend.

You hadn’t realized how rare it was to get a genuine smile from him, but you were willing to do so much just to see it. Then it hit you. You wouldn’t go to these lengths for any friend, Keigo was special to you in a way that the other’s in your life weren’t. You think you know what that means, and it terrifies you.

You knew he didn’t do the whole relationship aspect, he’d said as much, and everything in his life had backed that up as well.

The barista has to call you a couple times for you to snap you out of your mild panicked thoughts, looking a little annoyed. You quickly apologize, shoving your feelings down and grabbing the coffees hastily as you make your way to the place where he’d be meeting you. You were going to be a couple minutes late, which always made you flustered, and on top of that you were freaking out about trying to keep those emotions you’d buried down there.

They were not going to see the light of day, you promised yourself that. Maybe you could cram them down so far deep that they’d disappear.

Ha. As if. You knew it wasn’t going to be that easy, but that was a later problem that you weren’t prepared to deal with right now.

When you get there, a smile does light up his face as he thanks you, relishing the coffee. The two of you start walking down the street, Hawks waving at people who yell at him, putting on that fake-smile-that-looks-real for people who ask him to join them in a picture, or sign something for them.

He did it all with patience, but through the cracks you could see the weariness dripping through. The way he put it was that he wanted to do as little work as possible. You assume that’s for this part of the hero business as well.

“Well, thank you for your support! I’ll be sure to do my best, don’t worry.” He says to a little boy, bending down and flicking his hat, which gets a smile and a giggle from the kid. “Thank you all for your support!” he says loudly as he stands up, and people cheer before easily making their way away from him, the dismissal clear.

The two of you sip your coffee as you walk down the street. You said you’d go for a quick walk around the city with him before he has to clock in for patrol. While you’re walking, he laces his fingers with yours.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he mutters under his breath. Your pulse is fluttering but you shake your head no and sip on your coffee. “Good, it’s getting chilly.”

After you drop him off you can’t help but look at your hand and smile, giggling to yourself a bit as you squeeze your hand. His hand had been so smooth compared to what you thought it would be like, but then again, he didn’t really fight with his fists and he wore gloves. It had felt so good though, the weight of his hand in yours.

After you noticed how you felt about Keigo though, it became harder and harder to try and ignore the feelings that seemed to bubble up whenever the two of you would talk or text or hang out. Little pangs of excitement would ring out against your will whenever the chime of the ringtone you’d set for him would sound.

You perk up a little as once again it alerts, going over to read what he sent you.

Keigo: gonna have to be away a little more in the next few weeks -_-

Y/N: aww why :(

Keigo: secret stuff shhhhhh. I gotta go check out some weird villain movement

Y/N: stay safe ok?

Keigo: don’t worry, they won’t catch me im too fast :P

Y/N: srsly if you die ill kill you >:(

You don’t hear from it at all in the next few weeks, and you didn’t realize how much the two of you had been in contact with, but your days felt strangely empty without the noise that he made so often.

You missed him, and more than that, you were worried about him so much. Since when did top heroes go on secret assignments? Wasn’t that stuff for the underground heroes to take care of? Why did he sound so calm about it?

The questions whirled around in your head, day in and day out. The couple of weeks pass in a daze for you, everything seeming out of wack in your life. Part of you was angry at yourself for being so distracted by him, and the other part was busy screaming all the worst-case scenarios that could happen to him. You have nightmares about him injured and bleeding, eyes lifeless. You check your phone at least a few times whenever you can, just seeing if maybe he’s sent a text to you.

You’ve sent him a few messages here and there, small things like “I hope you’re doing ok!”, or “I miss you”, or “I’m really hoping you’re safe.”

In the middle of the third week, you hear that chime and you jump up, excited. It’s a short message, but he must be exhausted from his mission, he was away for so long. He asked if you could go over to his apartment sometime soon. Said he needed to talk to you and stuff. His text was short and to the point, he seemed nervous about something.

Some of the worries had disappeared at the ringing noise came creeping back at that, but you responded that you would whenever you were both free. He said that he’d be off of work for a little while, which was concerning, so you were going over tomorrow. You settled in for a rough night.

What were you supposed to bring to someone’s house when they had been tossed into secret mission to track down some dangerous villains and were most likely injured? There wasn’t a handguide on that unfortunately, but you did know that he loved one of the soups you had made one time. So, you made some in the morning when you got up, put it in a container and on your way to his apartment for lunch.

Hopefully that would be acceptable, even though you knew Keigo didn’t really care that much about pomp and other gifts. You think he was grateful to have some company, he loved being on the move and sitting still for a long time would be a special type of hell.

So, you wanted to do something nice for him.

In all honesty, you didn’t think it would be that bad when he opened the door with a bruised and cut face, as well as an arm sling with his ribs all bandaged up.

“Oh my god!” you screamed, your free hands flying up to your face. “What the hell happened to you!” he shushes you and pulls you into the apartment.

“Not so loud! It’s not public!” he chastises you.

“Oh, right sorry. I’m just – Keigo, what happened to you? You disappear for almost three full weeks and you come back looking as if someone used you as a punching bag.”

“Surprisingly enough, that metaphor is rather accurate.” You feel your eyes bugging out of your head and he sees that. “Hey! Don’t worry, this isn’t the worse I’ve been beaten up- Oh god that’s probably not comforting.”

“No, it isn’t! Is there anything you can tell me?” you plead.

He shakes his head sadly, pretending to zip up his lips and lock them. “But I can tell you that I’ll be back to normal in about a week or so. I could also tell you about the people I met that weren’t y’know, villains. And you brought soup! You’re the best dove.” You blush a little at the new nickname, but you did notice that the nervousness he’d had when he’d been texting with was definitely still there and it put you off a little bit.

The two of you ate, the only sounds coming from eating, and the brief comments that Keigo was giving about where he’d been. You nodded in interest, interjecting every once and a while to ask a question for detail.

After the meal, the two of you sat down together in silence until Keigo cleared his throat.

“Can I talk to you about something more serious?” You nodded, here came what he’d been stressing about since last night. “God, ok this is harder than I thought for some reason.” He gives a dry chuckle. You stay silent. “Um, I think we’re going to have to take a break from the whole ‘side benefits’ we got going along, you okay with that, dove?” ah. So, this was it. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. But at least you knew what, now you wanted to hear the why.

But Keigo was fickle, he didn’t like being backed into a corner. If you would’ve directly asked, you’d get no answer that would satisfy you. So you sit their with your heart falling out of your chest.

“I mean, if that’s what you want.” You say as neutrally as possible, trying to hide the hurt from your features. It didn’t work as well as you planned based on Keigo’s scowl.

“You’ve got to talk to me, what about that makes you upset?”

“It’s nothing, I’ll get over it. I knew this wouldn’t last forever.” You mutter, trying to shrug him off. At least this way you could get over him, maybe.

“I did say no guarantees at the beginning,” he frowns. It felt like he was rubbing it into your face, and it fucking stung like a cut being washed with rubbing alcohol. “I told you that I’m not good with this whole interpersonal thing.”

“Yeah, I fucking know that!” each word was like a sting, and your voice echoes in the empty apartment. “Can you at least tell me why.” You hate that your voice cracks on that last sentence.

“There’s this someone I’ve been talking too, when I was out there. A little rough around the edges, but really fucking amazing. I was trying to slip into their friend group you know? Turns out we felt the same way.”

You feel your heart drop out of your chest and into your stomach. “Wow, Keigo! That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you!” you hear yourself say. The words ring hollow, but he’s so wrapped up in his excitement that for once, he doesn’t notice.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” he enthuses, impassioned. “It’s like a totally different wavelength you know.” His feathers were doing this cute little ruffling, and your heart ached. You had to keep your hand back from going to smooth them. Some nights, when the two of you were just hanging out and relaxing, he’d let you smooth them out. He said it felt good, and the texture always made you feel calm.

You needed some of that calm right now.

“I’m glad you found someone then.” And you really were, you knew how alone he was. You were happy he found someone he liked. You just wish it had been you.

You think it was some type of torture, watching Keigo fall in love with someone else. The way he’d talk with his eyes lighting up, the way that he’d do that thing where his feathers would ruffle when he’d think of them with a dopey smile on his face when he thinks you’re too occupied to pay attention to him.

It fucking killed you when it happens, although you made no effort to break away from him. You couldn’t. You knew that he needed you there, he’d said as much with his small actions, the way he thanked you every time you spent time with him.

You wondered what you had done to deserve this.

Eventually, it was too much for you too handle, when he’d started leaving the city more often to go visit them, you started making excuses for why you didn’t have as much time for him in the few weeks.

“Works really busy this week sorry.”

“Oh, I’m sick, and I wouldn’t want you to catch it”

“I’m sorry I’m really tired, I can’t hang out today.

You couldn’t get over him, and you couldn’t tell him either. It seems you could do nothing but ache while he prospered.

It was hard, making distance. You hadn’t realized how close the two of you had gotten, and you hadn’t realized that you had needed him as much as he needed you.

The phone rings and you see the caller.

Of course, it’s him. It seems no matter how you try to distance yourself you can’t really get away from him. It always seems like you��re in his wingspan. Always in his reach.

You pick up the phone, “Hey Keigo! What’s up.”

You were a fucking fool. Keigo might’ve been the one with the wings, but you’d flown too close to the sun that you’d wanted to see and learn about. The sun that you’d wanted to bask in the warmth in and claim as your own.

You’d forgotten one of the first things that he’d texted you.

It hurt so bad.

You were such an idiot.

At first when Keigo said he’d been dumped a few months later; you didn’t believe him. Who the fuck would tell Hawks that he wasn’t good enough for them?

“Ha-ha, very funny joke Keigo.” You say sarcastically. “Don’t stand there out in the rain, idiot.” You gesture for him to come inside.

He makes his way over the doorstep, eyes unfocused as if he hadn’t even noticed the fact that it was raining. He wordlessly hands you his phone, and you gasp at the text that he’d been sent.

They said he couldn’t be trusted, that they didn’t want to work to get him to open himself up, that even he wasn’t worth the amount of effort they’d need to use in order to actually get to know him.

“Still don’t believe me?” His voice cracks on the last word, as he takes a deep breath to compose himself.

“Fuck, Keigo. I’m so sorry. I didn’t- I’m so sorry.” You bring him in, sit him down and go grab him a towel with some old clothes one of your exes had left in your home when you’d broken up.

You hand it to him and tell him to shower if he wants to, but at least put some dry clothes on. He listlessly follows your instructions, and you’ve never seen him look so dull. It scared you. While he’s busy though – you vaguely hear your shower in the background get turned on – as you put some tea on. Chamomile, his first choice all those months ago. It was his comfort tea. You also slipped into your room to grab the softest blanket you had.

You waited about half an hour for him, so you turned on the gas fireplace in the room, warming yourself and staring into the flames as you waited.

Who would say something so terrible?

You’d never met his partner, Keigo was secretive at the best of times, but when it came to people, he was especially paranoid. You knew it was because he’d amassed enemies in his years as a pro, but sometimes it was frustrating to deal with.

However, they must have been truly awful to say something like that.

You wonder if they would’ve said that stuff if they’d seen the empty apartment, bare of most things that gave a house a character. The lone photo which looked to be at least a decade, maybe closer to two, years old.

You wonder if they had seen past the mask too, and if that had scared them. Or maybe they hadn’t even noticed it in the first place given the wording of the final text. You knew the pain Keigo was going through, you lived through it every. Single. Day.

You hated seeing it, but a small selfish part of you celebrated the fact that you had a chance again.

Pathetic.

You place your head in your hands, trying to clean your thoughts. You needed to be here for him again, and you were going to be.

When he walks into the room, he notices you and slumps down into the couch, his eyes red, and his jaw clenched.

But he wasn’t crying, and it didn’t look like he had either. The rest of his face would be messed up and red if that were the case.

“You can let it out, Keigo.” You put a hand on his arm and rubbed comforting circles into his back, trying to ease him through it. “You don’t have to keep everything bottled up inside.”

He laughs bitterly at that, and you’re taken aback. “Yeah, actually, I do. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Alright. Then we can just rest, and have some tea, maybe put on some calming music. Does that sound good to you?”

He nods, he can’t look up at you though. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“No problem, Keigo. Be right back.”

When you do come back, he’s just laying there, staring blankly in front of him. He looks lost and confused.

“Have you ever felt like this,” he asks in a soft voice. A surge of anger hits you, after all this time he still hasn’t noticed. But you push it down and clear your throat instead.

“Yeah. I’ve felt like that a lot in my life.”

“I’m sorry.” He states simply. “It’s awful.”

“Yeah,” you agree.

The rest of the night the two of you sit quietly, sipping tea and listening to music. At some point the two of you end up sleeping on one another.

The weeks pass, and Keigo starts to recover, as that starts to happen, the two of you start to slip back into your previous relationship. You know it’s a mistake, but you don’t stop it. You almost encourage it, because it feels good. It feels like he actually wants you and you can believe it for a few moments before it comes crashing down around you. You know you’re a rebound, even if Keigo himself doesn’t realize that’s what he’s doing.

So, there he is again, using you as a way to fill his life up to make up for the something he can’t have. Coping with his issues by having someone he could distract himself with, that he trusted and knew cared about his wellbeing.

You wish you could say you hated it. But then you’d be a liar.

Because you would take any of the time that he was willing to give to you. You were in deep, and you knew that, just wished you would have a way that you could stop it, rather than just going along for the ride, and hoping that he didn’t completely destroy your heart.

Although that possibility seemed to be more and more likely these days.

One day, you realize that you can’t do this anymore.

One day, you think that you’re not going to allow yourself to do this to yourself or him anymore.

One day you decide that you have to take a full step back. No half done measures this time, the next time he called, you weren’t answering, and you weren’t listening. Maybe taking a complete break from the winged hero would somehow allow you to get over your feelings for him. Maybe the separation would do you some good, you could try and meet some new people, hang out with older friends.

You have a plan, a way to bring it up to him, to say that you can’t do the whole song and dance with him anymore, you can’t play around because it’s messing with your head. You plan on telling him that you just need some space to rest and recover, and that you’ll be fine in a little while.

It doesn’t happen that way.

You’re in his apartment and you’re both eating some takeout, you’ve been on edge the entire night, and of course Keigo notices. He tries to tell you a few happy stories he’s seen that day, tries to give you space to relax. He leans in to kiss you and you panic.

You jump up and say “I have to leave!” in a really panicked voice.

“Woah hey, what the fuck’s going on?” He stands up, walking after you.

“I just, I had a way to tell you- and I’m not ready and fuck I wish I didn’t have to say this but I just can’t do it!” You’re rambling, you know that, but you can’t seem to get your thoughts together, they’re bouncing around your head, refusing to slow down so you can’t catch them, and you’re sitting there panicking.

“You need to talk to me,” he shouts, breaking you out of your daze.

“I can’t do this anymore!” you cry out, all the bottled pain spilling up and gushing out. You can’t stop it, and you keep going. “I fell for you in week three, Keigo. WEEK THREE of our arrangement. And guess what! I still fucking love you, you absolute moron! You didn’t notice SHIT, and I didn’t say anything because I knew you didn’t feel the same way, but I knew you needed someone. And sometimes I fucking wish I didn’t, that I spoke up for myself and said something sooner because it’s brought me nothing but heartbreak after heartbreak, and so much insecurity!”

He looks at you shocked. “Wait… you, but?”

You laugh, a little hysterically, all the emotions bubbling over. There’s a strange sense of relief. It’s all out in the open now. “Fucking tell the press! I finally found the way to make the Hawks absolutely speechless!”

“Wait, hold up, you need to slow down. I’m trying to understand what’s going on, and you aren’t exactly making this easier.” His eyes are wide, you’ve never seen him so completely and utterly lost. That was the final straw for you, and you start sobbing, tears streaming down your face as you try to keep your wails of pain inside.

You put yourself together in silence, his sharp eyes trained on you, you can feel it. Your sobs and sniffles grow less and less frequent as you gain control.

“I need space Keigo. I need to have space so I can get over you properly, and I couldn’t do it before, I thought I could! I just need to sort everything out, please.” You’re pleading with him, your voice drained and emotionless. “Just, don’t contact me please. Let me” You walk away before he can even answer, leaving him dumbfounded.

He grabs your arm before you reach the door, a little rougher than he usually is. “You don’t get to say all these things without even giving me a chance to respond!” His usually calm exterior is flustered, a little unhinged with panic and anger.

“I can! I told you how I feel! Nothing you say will be able to change how I feel right now Keigo! Nothing!” you feel your heart ripping to shreds as you see, for the first time in your one on one time in months, the mask returning as he looks it over too.

“Got it.” He says short and clipped off. “Thanks for just cutting me off like everyone else did. Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

You go, quietly, unable to look him in the eye. The door slams behind you, with an ominous thud.

The first time you gather up the courage to call him again to apologize, he doesn’t pick up. You expected that. You were hoping for that because you weren’t sure if you had the strength to say it to him.

You tell him you’re sorry. You tell him you know you made mistakes, that you knew you didn’t communicate right and you should’ve trusted him with that. You tell him you miss him because you do. He’d wormed his way into the cracks in your heart that he’d had a part in making.

You tell him you want to have a place in his life, and that he still has a place in yours, but you’re not ready yet.

You don’t know if he got it until he calls you back. He leaves a message for you this time as you were in the shower when it rang.

He tells you he understands now, even though it hurt like hell. He says he’s going to give you space, but would still leave you messages every once in a while. He says that of course you’re going to have a place in his life. He says that you’re the only person in a long time that had even bothered to get to see what was underneath his persona. He says that when you’re ready, to either call him back, or answer one of his calls.

So that’s how it happens. On some good days and some bad days, Keigo calls you. You listen to every single one, multiple times. Your feelings don’t die down though. You don’t know what else you can do but wait. The sad messages tear at your heart, but you know you can’t be there for him right now properly.

One of them you can’t help but hear and think that you need to call him, need to reach out to him. He’d sounded desperate in a way you hadn’t heard from him before and it chilled you down to the bone.

But you don’t. You’re too scared of what you’ll do or say.

On one of the days where you can’t sleep, you sit and stare at your ceiling, thinking about nothing much. Idle thoughts about the project you were working on, what you had to stock up on the next time you went shopping, the puzzle that you’d gotten stuck on in the current level of your video game.

That’s when the ringing broke out on your bedside table. That ringtone. You still loved him, and he never called this late. You picked up the phone.

“It’s two am, I know that, but I need you Y/N…”

“Hawks? What’s going on. Are you ok?”

He laughs loudly, “Fuck, no. Can I come over?” He almost manages to hide the waver in his voice.

You sigh, putting a hand to your temple. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come to me anymore, you know that.” You say it softly.

“You picked up.”

“I did.”

“You still love me.”

“Goddamn it Keigo, yes! Is that what you really wanted to hear right now at two in the morning?”

His tone switches to serious. “No. That’s not it at all. Please. It’s important.”

“I could just hang up.”

“You won’t.”

You let out a stream of curses that would make a sailor blush.

“Fine.” You give in with a groan and the starting of a stress headache. “I’m leaving the door unlocked for 10 minutes. That’s all you have.”

“That’s way more than I need.” You hear the click of the receiver tone and you move your ass out of bed, going to go unlock the door. There you wait in your pjs, your arms crossed glaring at the door and daring it to open.

Before the 10 minutes is up, it defies you and clicks open, and in he comes.

“Hey.” He just looks at you, and he looks exhausted. “Thanks for listening.”

You resist the urge to just run up to him and take him into your arms. He’d feel so good to cuddle. Instead you say in a wary voice; “What do you want Keigo, it’s late and I’m tired.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I am too, but.” He swallows hard. “I needed to see you before. Before everything gets fucked up.”

“What the hell are you talking about? And close the door it’s cold outside.” He follows your instructions without complaint and quietly.

“You’re going to want to be sitting down for this,” he warns.

You can see he’s not playing around, so you heed him and sit on the couch, and he sits on the chair, dragging it over so he’s opposite you.

“First off. An explanation of what I mean.” You gesture at him to carry on. “Remember those villains I had to check up on? Well, they were actually mobilizing an attack on the Hero Commission HQ which is in the city.”

“No way, seriously?” you can’t believe that they would get that bold so soon. It was insane, and yet, you believed it.

“Well yeah. I came by to warn you, because there’s going to be so much chaos, and in that chaos, it’s more likely for you to either die or get hurt.” Your hands found their way to your hair, brushing through it nervously. “Hey, hey, listen Y/N” he goes to hold your shoulder’s and looks you in the eye. “The heroes have been preparing for a few months now, taking out some of the villains they can. Everyone’s going to have a much better chance of survival. But staying inside and not opening to door for anyone? That’s going to keep you safest. Understand?” You nod.

Something niggled at the back of your mind though. “You said first thing.”

“Yeah…”

“Well? Are you going to tell me?”

“You’re going to slap me.”

“Well that’s not a fucking good sign.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I figured out why you’d shocked me so much with what you’d said. When we went our separate ways for a little while.”

You felt your stomach sink. This couldn’t be good, why did he have to bring that up now. “Yeah?”

“I didn’t trust my partner with anything that I’d shown you. You were the only person I’ve opened up too since… well a long time let’s put it like that. I haven’t really actually let myself feel things for a while, so I misunderstood them. I thought they were hot; I liked the look and the way they talked. I wasn’t falling love with them. I was in love with you the whole time and I didn’t realize it.” You felt like your heart stopped beating.

“Keigo?”

“Yes?”

“You didn’t think to actually say that in one of your fucking messages?”

“I didn’t think you were ready to hear it.”

“I mean maybe not, but it would’ve saved a lot of headache!”

“I’m sorry.” He says, “I’m learning, but I’m trying my best if you’ll take me?”

“Of course, I will you stupid bird. It’s going to take work, but I know where I went wrong.”

“Me too. I believe in us. Heh, us. I like the sound of that.” He has a goofy smile on his face.

“Oh my god you’re such a dork.” You lean up to press a light kiss on his lips, which he eagerly responds too. “You look exhausted though. Let’s get you into bed, so you can protect the city hero.”

“Sounds amazing to me.” He follows you into the room, stripping down and snuggling you.

“I’m likely going to be gone by the time you wake up, y’know?”

You sigh. “You better not die on me or I’ll kill you.”

“For you? I’ll stay as safe as possible.”

“Good.”

The next day, everything was in chaos, just like Keigo had said it would be. You didn’t even need to leave your house to know that. You saw it on your phone screen as you stayed hidden in your closet, to terrified to move or do anything else. A couple buildings had fallen near you, but luckily your building had stayed safe.

You don’t remember much else about that day. Fear. Praying that the people you cared about would be safe. Darkness. The sounds of massive explosions and destruction.

Terrible.

There were massive body counts of all different people, with varying quirks, lives, beliefs and goals. The damage was catastrophic. You almost couldn’t believe that it had been better than what would’ve happened if there wasn’t early intel and missions.

You noticed though, that everyone was treated the same in death. Hero, civilian, villain, vigilante, all of them were buried properly, paid for by the Commission themselves. Some of the villains had escaped, there were lots more dead hero students than people wanted to admit, and everyone was more beaten down and broken than before.

But…

Nobody had seen or heard anything about Hawks though. It was as if he’d simply vanished into thin air, and the only thing that kept you sane? They hadn’t found his body.

What about that cremation guy? The traitorous voice in your head spoke out. You told it to fuck off.

Hawks, Keigo, was not dead. He couldn’t be. You’d finally reached an understanding!

You refused to allow the possibility in your mind.

It was a week later when you finally got some news. There was a call from the hospital, and you immediately, you picked up.

“Is this Y/N Y/LN?”

“Yes,” you practically shout. “Yes, I am.” You say a bit softer.

“I’m calling about a Keigo Takami? Do you know this man?”

“Yes, yes, I do, please is he alive?” you can’t keep the desperation from your voice.

There’s a pause. “…Yes. He is alive. They’re trying to test to see what the extent of the damage is. You were the only other person other than his mother to be on his emergency contact list, yet you have no relation to him, were you aware of this?”

“Yes,” the lie comes easily, despite the surprise bubbling up.

He gives you the address and you promise to be there as soon as you can. You can deal with this, you think, he’s alive and so the two of you can work on it and fix it together like you’d planned.

Except you couldn’t.

Little to no brain function, they said. Halfway done the process to become a host body for a new nomu, they said. How were you supposed to fix everything together if Keigo was right there, but also completely gone?

You collapsed into the chair beside his bed, looking over at him. The man you’d loved for over half a year. The doctors went silent, all of them leaving except for one, who stood silently. You reached out and held his hand in yours. Still softer and smoother than what a pro hero’s hand should be like. Still warm, like the first time you’d held it. You could even feel his pulse.

It was almost funny; you were finished before the two of you even got started. You couldn’t even say that the two of you had ever truly been together, but that’s what made it hurt more, you think. Nobody would believe you, a random nobody? Dating the number two pro hero? Yeah what an attention whore.

You sat there, tears building in your eyes, and spilling out

“Keigo, please just give me one more message?” you whisper, crying harder now. “I’ll be waiting for it, so you better call me when you’re ready, because I’ll be waiting for you.”

#bnha x reader #hawks x reader #jays writes #angst #sfw

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themusicplayedherlife · 4 years

Text

Unrequited (Part 5)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader characters: bucky barnes, reader, steve rogers, natasha romanoff, tony stark, pietro maximoff, crystal amaquelin, clint barton, sam wilson, sharon carter, word count: 7k+ warnings: curse words, flirty bucky, flirty tony, angst, sad friends summary: things are changing and its startng to get hard to keep up a/n: hi, welcome to the slowest update and slowest burn story ever, but its here now--and let me tell you, this chapter is NOT how i planned... still like the outcome and really, it just means that the next ch is going to be just as long (im also looking for someone to beta future chapters ;o; so if youre interested, lemme know)

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“Natasha?” you call out, entering the eerily quiet apartment. The lights are off, the television quiet and dark, everything you used for breakfast is still in the sink, none of it put away—she hates seeing a full sink, but hates washing dishes in the morning even more, preferring to do them when she gets home when it’s her turn.

You call out for her again, your footsteps echoing as you make your way to her bedroom. Knocking, you wait for a beat before opening the door, and just like the rest of your shared home, her room is dark—even the neon lights she likes leaving on occasionally are turned off.

Where could she be?

There’s a note on the island counter that has you frowning—Out for the day. It reads in Natasha’s cursive writing. I’ll be home for dinner.

You don’t share any classes with Natasha, today. In fact, you don’t have any classes Tuesdays, something you’re grateful for because having classes everyday last year really stressed you out, and while you’re still stressed having three classes on three days of the week, you have more days to relax and study if need be.

Your free days also give you the chance to spend time with Natasha, something you both take seriously. Afterall, you made a promise to one another senior year of highschool that you’d always carve out a little bit of time for each other and that you’d always tell one another what was on your mind, never letting it fester.

It feels… weird knowing something is wrong and not knowing what it could be. But you just have to give her space and wait for her to tell you on her own, just as she gives you space when you need it.

Doesn’t mean you like it, though.

With a loud sigh, you leave your apartment.

You shoot him a quick text to let him know you’re here, and he replies by giving you the code for the building and his floor and apartment number.

Seriously, Bucky? Why is he making you go up?

Grumbling, you take the elevator to the fourth floor and knock on his door, ready to rip him a new one for having you meet at his place rather than somewhere else when it opens to reveal… not Bucky?

Naked torso and bright blue eyes greet you, and widen in surprise as a small squeak escapes your lips. You try to ignore the heat clawing its way up your neck and to your face, desperately hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He says your name breathlessly and you return the gesture with another squeal, head lightheaded and you’re pretty sure it’s not healthy to have all your blood rush to your face like this.

“Steve!” You avert your eyes and focus on the wooden door and the gold numbers 404 instead of his pretty, hairless chest. But it’s kind of hard to keep your focus on something else when your eyes keep wanting to move his way! “Bucky told me to meet him here?”

As if he was waiting for his name, his head pops over Steve’s shoulder, a small smirk on his face—has it always been this punchable? Because your fingers are itching to clock him and wipe that smug look off of his face—that’s becoming a thing isn’t it?

“You’re finally here!” He pushes Steve aside and opens the door wide for you, ignoring the protests of his best friend. He latches onto your wrist, not allowing you a chance to look over the open spaced apartment and pulls you along with him towards the elevator. “I’m taking the car! And put a shirt on!”

You chance a glance over your shoulder to find Steve staring after you both with raised eyebrows and slightly parted lips. Fuck.

“What the hell, Bucky?” you ask as soon as you’re in the privacy of the elevator.

“You’re welcome,” he says, pressing the button for B—basement you’re assuming.

“You’re welcome?” You repeat incredulously. “For what?”

“What do you mean for what? You got to see a shirtless Steve thanks to me!”

He has a point, the little voice in your head says, but you refuse to listen. Pursing your lips, you turn your eyes away to stare at the blinking numbers over the sliding doors. “I’m not thanking you for that.”

He pouts and it’s so uncharastically Bucky, or at least it's uncharacteristic for the Bucky you thought you knew, that it throws you off guard for a moment. You clear your throat and try to recover. “Come on! I did good! You saw a shirtless, Steve! What are the odds of that happening?”

“Literally none.” He grins at your deadpan words. “Still don’t appreciate it, Bucky! That was embarrassing, for him and me.”

He sighs, slouching back into the elevator wall like a little kid having been scolded for stealing a piece of chocolate. “Okay, I get it. I get it, no more tricking you into seeing a shirtless Steve.”

You resist the urge to sigh heavily at his words. “I hate you.”

He grins toothily.

You watch him as he smiles at the poor girl behind the register ringing him up for a pair of sunglasses. She ducks her head shyly, curling a lock of her hair behind her ear as does her best to quell the blushing on her cheek.

He had told you to keep an eye on them, watch him as he tries to win over the cashier with his charm, but from where you’re standing? You’re not seeing shit.

He thanks her with another smile, taking his card that she hands back to him before making his way to you.

You quickly look away when her eyes begin to drift from him to you.

“Did you see?” he asks as he settles into step with you to lead you to another store.

You nod and cock an eyebrow. “What exactly was I supposed to learn from that?”

He makes a face—nose scrunched and eyebrows furrowed. “How easy it is to flirt?”

“I saw none of that,” you deadpan.

He sighs deeply as if completely disappointed in your lack of attention and you have to resist the urge to smack him and roll your eyes. “Did you not see how I—you know what. Never mind.” Before you can even question him, he continues on: “We’re not just here to teach you how to flirt, we’re also here because you need an outfit for the party. Two birds,” two fingers lift into the air and then one finger goes down, “one stone.”

You do a double take, blinking slowly and letting his words process. “I need an—no, I don’t!”

“Oh, yeah?” He raises an eyebrow as he opens the door. “What were you thinking about wearing, then?”

“I don’t know?” You reply indignantly. What exactly is he getting at? “Some jeans and a shirt? You know, like casual clothes.”

When you don’t make a move to enter, he grabs your arm and pulls you along with an eye roll. “That’d be fine for any other party, but this is a Stark party. People dress up to impress, and those that don’t, stick out like a sore thumb.”

Great.

“Come on, sourpuss.”

That’s rich coming from him.

But then again, he hasn’t been much of a sourpuss with you anymore has he?

“What about this?” he asks, amusement laced in his words as he grins stupidly at you. In his hands is a short and skimpy dress that you would never wear out of fear of what you might accidentally end up flaunting.

A glare is all he gets as a response and he laughs loudly. “I’m joking!”

You miss sourpuss Bucky.

He has you searching the floor for something—anything, he deems acceptable for Stark’s party, but you honestly don’t understand why you can’t just wear casual clothes. And when you voice it, he keeps emphasizing the whole “sticking out like a sore thumb” bit. As if he knew you liked blending with the crowd rather than stand out. You relent, allowing him to help you pick something out, too, but you still don’t like the idea of dressing up for a College party.

A blue romper is suddenly shoved in your line of vision and you took a step back to follow the arm attached to the shimmery romper. “Pretty, right?”

You wrinkle your nose involuntarily. It is a pretty romper (better than the first one), with a low open back and a sweetheart neckline. You’d wear it, but it looks more suitable for clubbing than a college party.

“I think it’ll look good on you!”

You reluctantly grab it from his thrusting hand. “Isn’t it too much?” You check the tag. “Besides, not my size.”

“It’s perfect for Tony’s party,” he muses as he ushers you towards the rack where he found the romper, encouraging you to find your correct size. “And it’s actually pretty tame compared to what you’ll see others wearing.”

“You know, you’ve been really making me dread going to this party,” you grumble, pulling out a romper that’s in your size. “You keep making it sound like it’s the event of the year.”

He nudges you towards the changing rooms. “It might as well be. A lot of people look forward to his parties, use it as a chance to completely unwind without any rules binding them to the usual frat party rules.”

Which would make sense as to why Natasha is looking forward to it, especially when she seems to be stressed from outside factors.

“That still doesn’t make me feel better.”

He rolls his eyes. “Stop being a baby.”

The dressing room attendant allows you both in with a smile, pointing to a stall you may use, and you both thank her.

The music is a little louder in the dressing room area than it was on the floor, Dua Lipa’s New Rules blasting loudly, enough to make you drum your finger against the hanger.

“Besides,” he starts from the other side of the door. Through the crack, you can see him with his back turned towards you and waiting. “Going to this party will be your chance to open flirty dialogue with Steve, show him you’re actually interested in him.”

You take your time undressing. “None of what I’ve seen so far will help, Bucky. Smiling and touching someone isn’t flirting.”

“It will!” he assures you over the music. “It’s part of the basics on how to flirt.”

“Okay? But what else?” You were really hoping for more. He made teaching you how to flirt seem like such a big deal the other day.

He doesn’t answer you.

“Bucky?” When he doesn’t answer again, you quickly scramble to put on the romper, not bothering to check yourself in the mirror. You call his name again. No answer. Again. “Are you—“ You open the door to your dressing room and to your surprise, Bucky is still standing outside of your dressing room, closer to the one next to yours. “Why weren’t you answering?”

He leans against the door with his shoulder, hands in his pockets and stormy eyes meet yours when you poke your head out. “Well? Aren’t you gonna show me?” Your forehead creases as your eyebrows curve inward. He motions to the side with his head as if asking you to step out.

With a reluctant step, you come out of hiding, showing him the outfit with a ducked head.

His eyes sweep over you and his hands come out of his pockets, a lopsided grin appearing on his lips. “Wow—you look—you look great, doll.”

Doll? You don’t question it even though you’re curious about the sudden pet name, besides, you’re a little flustered at the genuinity in his voice “You think so?”

“It’s gonna be hard for anyone to look away from you,” he says, eyes twinkling with some kind of emotion that you can’t read. Mischief, maybe?

You pause, the heat that had been gathering in your cheeks suddenly cools as the hair on your arms stand awkwardly. You can’t help the small shiver that runs down your spine, or the small noise of disgruntlement that escapes your lips. What was wrong with him? “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, reaching for a lock of your hair and you jerked away.

Your eyes narrow as you watch the smile on his face grow, but soon they widen as the realization hit you. “Are you—are you trying to flirt with me?”

His smile drops and it’s your turn for your smile to grow, a laugh escaping your lips. His lips form a pout and he groans. “Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny. I’m teaching you how to flirt!”

“By giving me chills?”

He leans away from you, in shock that you’d think he’d ever do such a thing! “I did not give you chills!”

“You did!” you assert as you lift your arm to show him the bumps and awkwardly standing arm hair.

“There’s no way I caused that!”

You shove your arm further into his direction. “You totally did!”

He stares at you unblinkingly, your words processing in his head and taking in your form, until finally, he groans loudly, gaining the attention of the attendant. “But my flirting has never failed!”

You laugh, stepping away from him. “Well, your mom did say you seem to be under a dry spell.”

“Hey!” He sputters. “Just get changed!”

You shake your head with a smile and head back into the changing room to change out of the romper and back into your regular clothes.

After paying for the romper and walking around aimlessly, you two find yourself at the food court sitting across from one another with ice creams in hand.

“Since—apparently—showing you wasn't the best way to reach you how to flirt, telling you might be,” he says after a spoonful of his strawberry cheesecake ice cream. “Flirting isn’t rocket science, doll. Everyone can do it.”

“Not everyone.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit. Flirting is all about conversation and being confident while doing it,” he says, straightening his back. “A lot of people have this… idea, that you have to be coy and charming to flirt, but you don’t have to be. Sometimes it’s all about compliments, other times it’s about subtle touching, or most of the time—both.”

You close your lips around your spoon, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Try it on me.”

Your spoon almost drops from your hands at his words. “What?”

“Try flirting with me.”

“Bucky—“

“You’ve seen me flirt twice—“

“I learned nothing from either time.”

He blatantly ignores you and you can’t help but laugh under your breath. “So, you have an idea of what you should do when flirting with someone.”

“I don’t know—“

“Just compliment me, talk to me, reach for my hand or something.” He smiles. “You’ve got this.”

You take a deep breath and finally relent. Placing your spoon back into the cup with your melting ice cream, your eyes meet his expectant gaze.

Sweeping over his eager gaze, your eyes fall on the red beaded bracelet wrapped around his wrist. It’s homemade, a little worn out by the look of the scratches on some of the beads. But it’s cute, reminds you of something you would’ve made when you were in middle school for Natasha, or something your younger brother would’ve made for you. Did one of his sisters make it for him? Shyly, and nervously, you reach for the beaded bracelet, gently running your index finger over the small beads.

“I like your bracelet.”

“Yeah?” He asks with a wide grin, stormy eyes watching you carefully and you can’t help the heat licking at your skin—god, this is embarrassing!

“Yeah, it’s cute… looks good on you,” you mutter, hooking a finger under the bracelet and flashing your eyes up at him from under your lashes, still feeling hot and embarrassed, and if you cry, holy shit you’re going to die. You can’t even read Bucky’s expression, there’s a smile on his face but his eyes are pretty neutral. Fuck. What if you’re messing up? What if you’re only making a fool out of yourself? “No!” You gasp softly, extracting your finger from his bracelet and covering your face with both hands. “No, I can’t do it!”

“Come on,” he drawls and gently takes hold of your wrists to coax your hands away from your face. “You were doing great!”

You let him pull down your hands and purse your lips, not completely believing him, but he sounds genuine enough. “Was I really?”

“Yes, you were!” he says, patting your hands in his. “You complimented something on me and me, found an excuse to touch me and kept eye contact for most of it! That’s pretty fucking amazing.”

You slip your hands from his to cup your jaw and groan. “I wish I could believe you.”

“All you really had to do was ask questions, prolong the conversation, make me think you’re interested in knowing more about me,” he advises softly. “If you do something similar like this to Steve? He’ll be putty in your hands.”

Giddiness bubbles in your stomach as you think of Steve flirting back, but… “But what if I get too nervous? Or fail?”

“Then you breathe, remind yourself you’re having a conversation to get to know him outside of what you already do know.” He waits for a beat, eyes searching your face for a moment and sighs. “Some people like to lay it on thick with the charm because that’s what they’re good at. You? You’re just… you. Doe-eyed, a little awkward, more than a little blunt sometimes. So use that to your advantage.”

You don’t fully believe him, but he sounds so sure of himself that you can’t help but agree to try it. “All right. Okay, I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all you need.” He grins and tilts his head towards one of the many entrances of the mall. “Want to head home?”

You look down at the ice cream pooling in your cup and decide to throw it out along with Bucky’s empty cup. “Mind if I check out the Disney store before we go?”

He remains seated, thanking you as you take his trash with yours. “Was afraid you wouldn’t ask.”

Throwing the two cups, you look at Bucky over your shoulder, ignoring the family of four that cuts between you to occupy a table. “You like Disney?”

He scoffs, offended that you even thought of asking such a heinous question. “Of course, I do.”

You shrug, laughing under your breath as you wipe the imaginary dust from your hands. “Most guys hide their affinity for Disney.”

Without thinking much of it, Bucky grabs the bag carrying your romper from the empty chair. When you make a grab for it, he tells you he’s got it and begins to lead you towards the Disney store. You follow after him, thankful. “I’m not most guys,” he quips back. “But… uh… does Natasha not like guys that like Disney?”

You blink, processing his shy inquiry and then throw your head back in laughter.

“Hey! It’s a legit question, if she doesn’t—“

You fall into step with him, smothering your laughter with the back of your hand. “What? Are you going to hide your love for the mouse from her if she doesn’t?”

“Maybe?”

You roll your eyes. “I suggest you don’t, Bucky. Natasha… she likes authenticity.” He knows this! But he’s really gung-ho on changing himself for her, isn’t he?

“It’s not like I’m going to lie about it! I’ll just be… omitting the truth.”

“That is lying,” you say with a bit of whine and drawl in your voice. “Lying by omission.”

“Whatever gets her attention.” His lips turn down and his eyes sweep down at you with a semi glazed look before staring forward. “That’s the whole point of this, right? Getting their attention?”

You try to hide the wince and find that you can’t bring yourself to refute him.

Your eyes meet your own in your mirror’s reflection, and with a deep breath, you leave your bedroom.

Natasha is on her phone, fingers tapping away at the screen barely acknowledging you other than a, “Finally!”

“Sorry,” you start as you make a beeline to the fridge for water. “I’m just a little unsure of what I’m wearing.”

She looks up, twisting in her seat to take a look at you and she lets out a strange noise that sounds akin to excitement. “Where have you been hiding this little number?”

You purse your lips. “It’s okay?”

“Are you kidding me?” She stands and makes her way over to you, smirking wickedly, hand to her chest as she buckles her knees. “I am in love!”

You gently push her away and she cackles. “God, you’re so weird.”

“You love me!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

Pietro: bruh, i am in awe

Pietro: i shit you not, you’re going to be fucking blown away when you guys get here

You: His place that nice?

Pietro: what do you think?

Attached to the message is a picture of Pietro making a face at a large chocolate fountain in the middle of who knows where and you honestly can’t believe it. You really fucking can’t. Who fucking owns a chocolate fountain other than a fictional character?

“Are you seeing this?” you ask Natasha, who sits beside you in the moving taxi, staring incredulously at your phone screen as you receive another message from Pietro, but this time of him sticking a marshmallow into the fountain with a stick.

She hums. “Seeing what?”

“What Pietro just sent—group chat?”

“Oh,” she says. “No.”

Sighing, you put away your phone, ignoring the incoming text from Pietro most likely asking how far away you are. “Who do you keep texting?”

“Huh?” She looks up at you after a moment of silence. “Oh, a friend—hey, you don’t mind if I invited them to tag along, right?”

A friend? You try to keep yourself from frowning, keeping a more neutral, curious expression. “I don’t mind, but, who did you invite?” You’re pretty sure you know everyone she knows or at least know of the people she deems worthy enough to call friends—which aren’t many (and are literally the same people you call friends).

“He’s one of the guards at the center,” she says, returning her attention to her phone, a smile appearing on her lips as she types out another message. “I had trouble on the first day and he helped me.”

“Wait, you had trouble?” Why didn’t she tell you that? She had only mentioned that it went well, but the kids could be a bit too much if she wasn’t stern enough.

She waves her hand dismissively. “Yeah, got lost. Not a big deal.”

She got lost and made a friend on her first day and it’s no big deal? “Right.”

She raises her head to look at you once more, eyebrow cocked and ready to say or ask something, but the driver pulling up slowly and saying, “Here we are,” distracts you both, stealing your attention for a moment and making you both glance out the window.

“Wow,” is all you can manage to say as you stare up at the modern home—mansion, really—as you push open the car door to step out, Natasha right behind you. You knew Tony was rich, but this, this is crazy rich.

The chocolate fountain now makes sense.

You both thank your driver and the man nods, wishing you both a fun night before driving off.

“And I thought your parent’s home was big,” you tell Natasha.

She chuckles, clapping your back before beginning to lead you towards the main entrance and closer to the loud music playing indoors. “Pietro and Crystal are already here, right?”

“Yep. They might be by the chocolate fountain, wherever that is.”

“Cool, I’m going to look for my friend,” she says, pushing open the door and allowing the music to escape from the enclosed space—“Meet you there?”

She’s seriously not thinking of leaving you—oh my god, she is. She’s really leaving you!

Before you can even begin to protest, she’s become one with the sea of bodies occupying the open space and you can no longer see your friend among the masses.

Great. Now what?

You frown and when a person knocks into you by accident, giving you a hasty apology as they keep moving, you can’t help but sigh. Why did you even decide to come?

You pull out your phone and read the message Pietro sent you earlier, and reply telling him that you’ve arrived. In a matter of seconds, you receive a message from him saying he’s still by the chocolate fountain and to hurry the fuck up.

Well, at least you still have Pietro.

Just as you’re about to put your phone away, it vibrates with a text notification, your text tone completely drowned out by the music.

James Bucky: How’s the party?

You: Just got here

James Bucky: Barely?

The music is loud around you as you push through the crowd, people not really caring if you bump into them, all of them in their own little world as the bass reverberates through their bones.

You: Wasnt super keen on the romper.

You: Jumped around a lot of outfits

James Bucky: But I thought you looked great!

James Bucky: You ARE wearing it, right?

You: yes, zazu gosh

James Bucky: wait

James Bucky: Zazu from the Lion King?

James Bucky: are you calling me an overbearing bird?

You: 🤷🏻‍♀️

You: if the shoe fits

James Bucky: listen, if I’m anyone from the movie, I’m Simba

You snort as you reply back: Sure you are

James Bucky: Rude!

James Bucky: Have you seen Steve, yet?

You: no.

You: Looking for Pietro and his girlfriend first

James Bucky: All right

James Bucky: Guess I’ll let you go

James Bucky: just remember to relax! You’ve got this!

Yeah! You do got this!

Thanks, Bucky.

Your search for the fountain leads you outside to a small courtyard where it’s a little less crowded, but just as noisy with the music and talking. In the middle of it all is the glorious chocolate fountain and in front of it a long table of fruits and other assortments that could be dipped into the chocolate.

“What do you think?” A voice suddenly says next to your ear and you can’t help but let out a surprised squeal as you jump around to face the culprit. “Cool right?”

“Tony! What the hell?”

He chuckles and looks you over, his eyes still obscured by his dark glasses. “You look good.” He sounds sincere enough, but you can’t help but raise your eyebrow in suspicion.

“Thanks?”

He grins. “You’re welcome.” He looks around you. “Came alone?”

“Ah, no, I came with Natasha, but she went searching for someone.”

“And you?” He asks, removing his eyewear and hooking it’s leg into the collar of his shirt. “You’re not searching for anyone?”

“I am…” you say, a little hesitant, unsure of what his question is meant to mean. “My friend Pietro.”

He tilts his head to the side. “You mean silver haired kid over there?”

You follow his line of vision, head twisting to look over your shoulder where Pietro and his girlfriend are sitting on a wooden bench, gorging on strawberries covered in chocolate. “Thanks.”

“Buckaroo didn’t come with you?” he asks, stopping you from making your way over to Pietro and Crystal.

“Uh, no. Said he didn’t feel like it.”

Tony snorts, he sounds a little bitter. “Of course, he did.”

Curious. “Did you want him to come?”

He presses his lips thinly, before smiling wickedly. “I’d like for someone else to come.”

“Seriously?”

He grins, head ducking and glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose, but he does nothing to stop them. “Sorry, bad joke.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“Do you usually do that?”

He catches your gaze over the rim of his glasses. “What? Make bad jokes?” He shrugs. “Probably.”

“No,” you start slowly, pausing for a moment to search his eyes, study him as much as possible before he can grow offended by your next words, words that you probably wouldn’t say to a stranger and shouldn’t say to a stranger, but still do. “Do you usually deflect when someone goes into uncharted territory?”

He tenses, eyes narrowing and jaw clenching, it only lasts for a second, but you catch it. And that’s enough for you to know you’re right. He lets out a dramatic sigh and looks away from you, pushing his glasses back up. “Ah, and here I thought you’d be more fun than most of these people.”

You purse your lips, ready to retort, but before you can, a hand lands on your shoulder, pulling you away from Tony and to a muscular body—Pietro.

“Is he bothering you?” Pietro asks, eyes locked on to Tony, not even bothering to look down at you. It’s the big brother act.

“Pietro!” You scold him, pushing him away from you and from confronting Tony. “It’s fine. We were just talking.”

“And now we’re not,” Tony announces, eyes moving from Pietro to you. “Have fun, gorgeous.”

“What was that about?” Pietro mutters, confused as you both stare after Tony. And you can’t help but watch as he joins a group, laughing and smiling with them for only a moment before moving on to the next one. Never staying in one place.

“I don’t know,” you admit, a small frown making a home on your features.

You can never truly tell what the hell is going on with Pietro and Crystal. One moment they’re both laughing and having the time of their life and the next they’re arguing about the little things—this time the little thing being, well, you.

You’ve always known that Crystal wasn’t and isn’t particularly fond of you and Natasha, sometimes seeing both of you as some kind of threat or rivals for Pietro’s love, but you and Natasha usually pay her no mind. This time, however, it’s a little hard to ignore them when she’s whining about the fact you’re third wheeling their date, forgetting the fact that you and Natasha had invited Pietro in the first place, and he had decided to bring his girlfriend along.

Where’s Natasha when you need her?

Why did you decide to come anyway? Bucky wasn’t joking when he said a Stark party wasn’t a place for striking up conversation, yet somehow he encouraged you to come and said it would be the perfect opportunity to flirt with Steve. Who, by the way, you haven’t seen since you arrived! Granted, you haven’t moved from your spot in the courtyard, but you aren’t so sure going around specifically looking for Steve would be such a good idea. What if you do start dating Steve and you one day tell him that you frantically looked around for him at a Stark party, actively avoiding everyone just to be able to talk to him? He’d most likely freak and call you a freak, and you’d much rather avoid that.

“Then go,” you hear Pietro snap, pulling you from your rambling thoughts to look at him and Crystal, both of them practically in each other’s faces.

His blonde girlfriend with wide blue eyes falters, eyes drifting from him to you and back, and you watch as her bottom lip wobbles for dramatic effect before throwing her hands up in the air and pushing Pietro away from her. “Fine! I didn’t even want to come to this stupid party anyway!”

Pietro sighs heavily as she storms off.

“You sure letting her leave like that is a good idea?”

“Yeah,” he says through a grimace, falling back down onto the bench he and Crystal has been occupying. “It’s fine. We’ll work it out tomorrow. We always do.”

You have no doubt they’ll work it out, because he’s right, they always do. But you still can’t help but worry. How much more fighting and arguing can they take before they break? “Okay. Do you want me to get you a drink?”

He shakes his head and reaches for the red plastic cup by his feet. “I’m good, thank you.” He scoots over and pats the seat next to him.

You flash him a small smile and drop yourself down next to him, taking the chocolate strawberry he offers you before pressing his own strawberry against yours and scarfing it down.

“What’s with the doom and gloom?” Natasha finally joins you, finding you and Pietro sitting on the wooden bench, gorging on chocolate covered fruit. “It’s a party!”

You and Pietro don’t bother reacting to her shimmy of the arms, you instead cock an eyebrow. “Did you find your friend?”

She nods, smiling, looking over her shoulder and making a come here motion with her hand—and who exactly she motions over isn’t who you were expecting.

Not only is it Steve, but it’s Steve. Handsome, blue eyes, pretty Steve, who flashes you a bright smile even after you’ve seen him half naked.

Your mouth falls open in surprise. Steve? Why would it be Steve? As far as you knew, Steve doesn’t work as a security guard. Not at campus, not at the accounting firm he’s interning, and definitely not at a recreational center! He would’ve mentioned it, right? You look at Natasha, but she’s not looking at you, and she’s not looking at Steve either, you note.

She’s looking at someone behind him, someone shorter with darker hair—dirtier, and darker blue eyes—“Clint?”

All eyes snap in your direction, but you pay them no mind, you’re completely transfixed by the man wearing a purple hoodie and acid wash jeans, who immediately recognizes you and smiles cheekily.

“You know each other?” Natasha asks and it's Clint who explains with a nod.

“She’s a regular at the museum, usually comes in during my shift.”

“Huh.” Natasha huffs out a breath. “Small world.”

Steve chuckles and that sound would usually cause your heart to flutter, but you’re currently very much in awe of the fact that Natasha has adopted Clint as her friend. “Guess that makes it easier with the introductions.”

“Uh, excuse you. I don’t know who he is. Hi, I’m Pietro. And you are?”

“Clint Barton, security guard extraordinaire.”

Natasha smiles in Clint’s direction and leans against him, surprisingly enough—which is putting it lightly. You’re more than surprised, you’re absolutely floored, Pietro is too because he turns to you with wide eyes and mouths “what the fuck?”

What the fuck indeed.

Natasha isn't the type to be so… hands on or touchy with strangers (well, then again, Clint isn’t exactly a stranger). It took months—half a year to be exact—for her to be comfortable with touching Pietro, and being touched by him. But here she is, having known Clint for a couple of weeks—BARELY—and is already using Clint as a resting post.

Yeah.

It’s official.

Bucky is screwed.

A Stark party is a sensitive overload, if you’re being honest.

Here you are being rewarded with Steve looking mighty fine in a yellow button down and dark, regular jeans, but you’re somehow distracted by the way your best friend refuses to leave Clint’s side.

She’s smiling, chuckling that soft, genuine chuckle of hers when he cracks a joke or tells a funny story. There’s a spark in her smile and eyes that you haven’t seen in such a long time—not since high school.

You’re happy for her…. but…

This is going to hurt Bucky, isn’t it?

“Hey,” Steve’s warm voice reaches your ears and your body reacts without a minute to waste. Heat crawling up your neck as you practically rip your eyes from them to him.

“Steve, hey.”

“You look beautiful.” Your heart practically beats out of your chest, eyes widening at his sincere compliment and how he studies you with a warm gaze. It takes all of your energy to stay upright, even when the blood rushes to your head and your knees buckle.

He called you beautiful. Steve. Steve freaking Rogers!

Breathe and relax, doll. Flirting is simple conversation. Not an art. “Thank you.” Your voice is quiet, but still managing to be heard over the music if the tick of his lips is anything to go by. “You do too. Yellow is a good color on you.”

What? What kind of compliment is that?! Every color is a good color on Steve!

He chuckles, his eyes slipping down to the button down he’s wearing. “Thanks. This is actually Bucky’s. Told me I should wear it for tonight.” He fixes the collar of his shirt as the first button comes undone, and you can’t help but avert your gaze shyly. What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s just some skin, you dumbass! “You wouldn’t think so, but Bucky actually has an eye for picking out clothes,” he says fondly, proud of his best friend. “It’s one of his hidden talents.”

You return your gaze to him, but this time focus on his eyes, smiling when his own gaze meets yours. “I actually believe you. He helped pick out this romper for me.”

His eyes brows quirk upward. “Bucky did? Really?

“Uh, yeah, actually.” Did you say the wrong thing?

You almost grow worried when the silence between the two of you stretches for a moment longer until he smiles again, eyes softening. “I’m glad you’ve become Bucky’s friend.”

You’re not so sure you and Bucky ARE friends, especially not after he reiterated why you're both talking and helping eachother, but under Steve’s sincere gaze you can’t help the, “I’m glad too,” that slips from your lips. And you definitely don’t regret it when his smile widens.

“Ah, listen, I want to apologize about the other day,” he says, his cheeks red as he rubs the side of his neck and eyes drifting shyly off to the side. “I don’t usually open the door shirtless, but Bucky was hurrying me… and…”

Of course he was. God damn that Bucky! “No, no, it’s your home. You’re allowed to be comfortable. I’m sorry I was so awkward about it. I just--I have never seen that.” Steve’s eyes snap up in your direction and for a moment, you replay your words—have never seen that—what the hell is wrong with you? “I mean, I have. I definitely have seen a shirtless man before. Who hasn’t? I meant to say I have never seen you—you know what? I’m just going to shut up now.”

He blinks slowly and without warning he lets out a loud laugh that takes you off guard, but it fills your chest with warmth. You recognize this laugh; it’s his genuine laugh. The one that makes him throw his head back, hand clutching his chest, and laugh without any inhibitions. And you caused it. You.

You can’t help but chuckle along with him.

And when Steve finally calms down, he glances down at you with crescent eyes and a genuine smile. “You’re cute.”

Heat crawls to your neck and you can’t believe it’s possible to even get this hot and embarrassed. “Thank you?” you squeak.

This is good right? Steve across from you, drink in his hand and smiling down at you as if you’re the only people in the room. And you might as well be, because the music sounds so distant and Pietro’s laughter is muffled.

This is your chance.

This is where you put a hand on his shoulder; lean into his space a little and flash him your doe eyes that Bucky mentioned. This is it! This is where you hint at your feelings, this is—

“Steve!”

Damn it, Sam!

“Look who I found!”

The smile on his face drops and you can't help the way your body jerks when he mumbles the name, “Sharon,” so breathless.

You’re no longer the only two people in the room. The world spins and tilts, and it moves faster than you thought possible—all noise and music coming back to life and deafening you as Steve doesn’t spare you a glance to walk towards the beautiful blonde with kind brown eyes smiling at him.

You push through the crowd, needing to get away from whatever the fuck is going on inside. Steve barely even glanced at you after Sharon had appeared, which shouldn’t be surprising, really. His ex-girlfriend is beautiful and the two didn’t exactly break up on bad terms. They had decided that while she studied abroad at Cambridge for the year, it would be best for them to break up.

So really, you should’ve known that the moment she would showed up, you wouldn’t have a chance.

Not like you had a chance before. But you had hoped with all of your heart that maybe you could have a chance.

You were wrong. Bucky was wrong.

The fresh, cool air hits you as soon as you’re out on the front porch, and you release an exhale.

“Tough night, gorgeous?”

Your eyes snap to Tony, who sits on one of the porch chairs, legs kicked up on the small rounded table, and a cigarette in his hands. “You could say that.”

Tony puts out the cigarette by smashing the tip into the ashtray by his feet.

“Why aren’t you inside playing host?”

A smirk lifts his lips. “Taking a break. Hosting is a lot of work.”

You snort. “I’m sure.”

“Why aren’t you inside?” You shrug and watch as he stands up and moves to the chair over, pointedly looking at the now empty one as if inviting you to sit with him. You do. “Saw you getting chummy with Steve earlier. Didn’t know you had it in you, gorgeous. Bucky and Steve?”

You freeze, eyes widening as you sputter. “What? Bucky and I are just friends and Steve… Steve… is just a friend too.”

He chuckles. “So not gaga over Buckaroo, but definitely deep in the feels for golden boy. Got it.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Sure it isn’t.” He grins, but there’s no malice in his teasing and for some strange reason, you don’t mind it.

The music is muffled, even with the loud volume it’s set on. But you can make out Ariana Grande’s voice as she sings thank u, next.

“So, were you rejected by golden boy? Is that why you’re out here?”

“Rejected would imply I had a chance.”

“Why wouldn’t you have a chance?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“Sharon.”

“Ah, the ex girlfriend.” He tilts his head back against the headrest. “Is she back? I heard she was back. But you know how rumors are.” Is he alluding to himself?

You watch him and he all does is lift his lips into a smirk that has you shaking your head. Best not to dwell on it. Turning away from him to pull out your phone, you notice you have messages from Bucky and Pietro, but you don’t read either of them, instead going into the Uber app to get a ride home. “Guess so.”

He leans closer to you, peeking at your screen for a second before pulling back. “Ordering yourself a ride?”

You nod, watching as the screen changes when you confirm the addresses and the arrival time and map show up. In a couple of mins you’ll be on your way home. Thank god. “Yeah. I’m just—I’m just really tired.”

“Mind if I come with you?” he jokes, lopsided grin in his face.

You put your phone away once your ride is confirmed and find him no longer staring at you, but instead watching the empty streets, the occasional night drifter passing by. “For someone who likes throwing parties, you don’t seem to like being in yours.”

He chuckles. “Would you believe me if I told you I get tired?”

“Why throw them?”

He shrugs, but doesn’t answer and again, you don’t push him to either. You barely know him, and you have a feeling he’s told you more than he’s told anyone else in one seating.

“Okay,” you murmur and his eyes flicker in your direction before nodding and returning his gaze to the streets.

The two of you remain that way until your uber comes to pick you up. He walks you to the car door and opens the door for you, wishing you a goodnight and waiting until you’re far enough to head back inside.

Tony is an enigma, isn’t he? Everyone thinks they have him figured out, but you’re not so sure Tony even knows who he is himself.

Does Bucky?

You’re about ready to drop dead on your feet as you push open the front door and flick on the light to your apartment, your phone in hand as you mindlessly reading Pietro’s “where’d you go?” text. Honestly, you have half a mind to drop yourself on the sofa instead of your bed, even if your bedroom is only a few steps away from the sofa.

Just as you’re about to close the door behind you and are about to click on your text message thread with Bucky, the creaking of wooden flooring meets your ears and your eyes whip up, finding an unfamiliar woman standing next to your dining table with a hesitant smile and wide, green eyes.

“Who the fuck are you?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #reader insert #reader imagine #marvel imagine #unrequited series

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taelme · 4 years

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Don’t Need Your Love Club - Recruiting Now! (Welcome, Lee Donghyuck)

genre: high school!au, student council member!donghyuck, friends-to-lovers!au (fluff, angst with a happy ending, kind of mutual pining?)

pairing/s: Haechan / Reader (ft dreamies and some other Kpop 00 line boys, and Gugudan Mina)

word count: 17k+

tw: none!

a/n: after the long wait...the final part is up!! thank u guys for being patient lol I hope this chapter was satisfactory,, so please enjoy~~ also none of my works are beta read sorry so feedback is very much appreciated heh under the cut bc its pretty long!

Lee Donghyuck was a selfish being. He was someone that joined the student council for the sake of being able to bend the rules, someone that had a way with words that managed to manipulate people into doing things for his convenience. And someone that never felt bad about guilt tripping somebody for his own gain. Even if that somebody was you.

lee donghyuck 11:15am -r u coming for my match later-

You rolled your eyes, sinking further down in your seat as you typed out a reply with one hand, hiding your phone under the table as you nodded along with whatever your teacher was saying.

11:15am -you've asked me this already im trying to pay attention-

You glanced over at Donghyuck's seat at the other end of the classroom, the teachers having separated your desks at the start of the term since the both of you were always distracted if you were seated near each other. Not that you weren’t still distracted when he was all the way at the other side of the classroom, clearly.

He was sitting with his body angled towards you, leaning against the wall with his head supported by his elbow on the table, his hair mussed up as he kept his gaze on the board while typing his reply to you.

lee donghyuck 11:16am - wtv - 11:16am - was just checking if u rmb... - 11:16am - anyway r u buying me flowers-

You cast a glance at him, seeing that his position had shifted now as he hunched over his desk, fiddling with his tie. Looking over to you, he'd met your gaze, quirking his eyebrows ever so quickly as he gestured discreetly at his phone, a small smirk on his face.

11:16am -it's not like its a choir performance... i see u play all the time-

You swore you'd heard Donghyuck stop himself from whining, smiling sweetly at your teacher before he typed his reply to you.

lee donghyuck 11:17am - but jisung said u were getting him flowers!! >:( -

You pressed your lips firmly together in your attempt to suppress your smile, twirling your pen with one hand.

11:17am - 1. thats bc jisung is my brother 11:17am -2. the flowers are from my mom bc its his first game.- 11:17am -from what i know, u r both not my brother n not playing ur first game = no flowers for u -

lee donghyuck 11:17am - :(!!!!! -

11:18am - what time do you have to leave? -

lee donghyuck 11:18am – in 2 minutes -

11:18am - ok have a good practice see u later -

You watched out of boredom as he'd already begun to pack his things, blatantly disregarding that the lesson was still going on (you were sure he'd ask you for the notes the following week).

"Lee Donghyuck, you need to be dismissed, am I right?" your head turned sharply towards your teacher as her voice raised slightly. She never did try to hide her annoyance at Donghyuck having to skip lessons all the time because of volleyball matches or student council events.

Donghyuck looked up from his bag, nodding with a smile as he zipped it up, slinging it over his shoulder. It didn’t help the teacher that Donghyuck simply loved to piss her off.

"Alright, go," she waved him off.

Bending down to hook his shoe bag and water bottle on his finger, Donghyuck turned to you to nod his head goodbye before he'd strolled leisurely out of the class.

===

You'd retrieved the (awfully large) bouquet of flowers from your locker after school ended before heading to Donghyuck's volleyball match, having hitched a ride with Chenle so you could split the cab fare, despite Chenle's insistence that he could have paid for the both of you.

"Is that for Jisung?"

You gestured with your gaze towards the bag he was holding in his hand, earning a nod from him. Looking closer, you realised that it was a cup of Jisung's ever-so-specific drink order from the bubble tea shop near your school.

"He seemed pretty nervous for today, thought it'd be nice to get him something small as a reward."

The corner of your lips lifted into a smirk, a huff of amusement leaving you, "are you sure it won't be diluted by the end of the game?"

Chenle's eyes widened, glancing between you and the drink as his lips parted, making you shake your head, ruffling his hair affectionately.

"Don't worry, Jisung will probably still drink it anyway," you laughed.

"Did you get those for Donghyuck, too?" He nodded with his head towards the bag you were holding.

You raised an eyebrow, following his gaze to realise he was gesturing to your bag containing Jisung's bouquet, almost forgetting you were carrying it.

You shook your head.

"Nope, my mom got these for Jisung..." you trailed off, your mind wandering back to how Donghyuck was pestering you to get flowers for him, a strange feeling of guilt creeping up on you if you were to decide not to get him anything.

Staring out of the car window, you tried to recall how much spending money you had left for the rest of the week.

"Chenle, do you remember if they have a florist near the venue?"

You wanted to scoff at yourself. What was the special occasion anyway?

It was just any other one of Donghyuck’s matches, yet you were only feeling extremely guilty now about not buying him flowers of all things to show your support.

Chenle's lips pursed, shaking his head before taking his phone and keying in something.

"Oh! There is! Says here that it's at the mall next to the stadium," your eyes widened, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you tried to read the details on the shop location on his phone.

Chenle narrowed his eyes at you, "are you gonna get something for Donghyuck?"

You scoffed at the way he was smiling at you, waving him off, "I'll see if it's within my budget."

Finding the florist took you and Chenle long enough, the dainty shop having been tucked away at a far end of the mall, but picking out a flower took even longer.

"What about this one?" Chenle pointed at a similar bouquet as to what you had for Jisung, a pretty bouquet of yellow and pink tulips.

"Too expensive," you whispered just soft enough that the shop owner wouldn't hear, skimming over the bouquet and letting your gaze travel towards the bright sunflower bouquets.

"And plus, Donghyuck likes sunflowers."

"This one?" you asked Chenle, pointing at a small simple bouquet of a sunflower and baby's breath.

Chenle let out a hum in approval, "oh, this is cute, yeah, sure you should get this!" he told you, nodding.

You bid the thirty-over dollars in your wallet goodbye, mentally cursing Donghyuck for managing to guilt trip you into buying flowers for him.

Grabbing the bouquet and shoving it into the same bag as Jisung's before practically jogging to the venue with Chenle, the both of you running late from spending so long at the mall.

Struggling to keep up with Chenle, you saw him turn to you, waving his phone, "Jeno says they saved a seat for us!"

You nodded, already out of breath as you let him lead you into the stands closer to where your school's team would be seated, spotting them doing warm-ups at the bleachers.

Greeting Donghyuck’s friends, you’d seated yourself in between Chenle and Renjun, stretching your neck to look over the banners that the girls seated in front of you were holding, trying to find Donghyuck in the crowd of black volleyball jerseys.

Jisung seemed to have spotted you, calling the said boy and pointing at your direction. Looking up in confusion, Donghyuck’s eyes searched the crowd before spotting you and his friends, the group of you waving enthusiastically (not to mention the girls in front of you as well who had immediately squealed when Donghyuck had smiled in their direction).

Walking over to Jisung, the two had partnered each other for warm-ups, Donghyuck starting to get into his more serious mood as he would during his games.

“Damn, look at Donghyuck. He’s just stretching but he looks so good,” your eyes widened when you heard the girl in front of you lean over to divulge to her friend.

Chenle turned to you with raised eyebrows, not-so-secretly pointing at the girl with an expectant look on his face.

“What?” You scoffed.

“You’ve got some competitors,” he told you, erupting into a burst of laughter causing the girls to turn around, eyeing Chenle in shock.

Nodding apologetically to them, (though you weren’t all that sorry), you leant over to Chenle slightly and dropped your voice to a murmur.

“They can have him. I’m sure his ego would explode.”

Renjun turned to you, seemingly interested in your conversation.

“What are you guys talking about?”

Chenle butt in quickly, “I’m telling Y/N to claim her man!”

Your eyes widened, shooting Chenle a warning glare.

Renjun’s lips formed a thoughtful pout, “Donghyuck?”

You scoffed, “I don’t know what you guys are talking about, Donghyuck and I are just friends.”

You grimaced at the thought of you and Donghyuck ever dating, the thought itself enough to make your insides stir.

Was it supposed to do that? Maybe you were having indigestion.

Chenle made a face, trying hard but not doing a very good job to hide his scepticism, seeming to disagree with you.

“Ouch, hope Donghyuck never has to hear that,” Renjun laughed, seeming to distrust your words as well.

Rolling your eyes, you kicked the bag of flowers under your seat, not wishing to see them and let your thoughts wander even more.

Shaking your head, you’d tried to focus on the game as much as you could despite the incessant commentary coming from in front of you of ‘oh Donghyuck’s this, Donghyuck’s that’. As much as you were glad that he had people who liked him instead of hating him, you couldn’t help but wish you could shield Donghyuck from their view, their drooling over him growing distracting as time passed.

You tried your best, for Donghyuck’s sake, to look past your annoyance and focus on the game, even though you couldn’t say you knew what was happening, having not paid much attention when Donghyuck had tried explaining the different roles of his team members to you on countless occasions.

To you, you would cheer when the girls sitting in front of you cheered. That was safest.

Aside from cheering, you would never fail to return the little proud smile Donghyuck would give you after a shot he was particularly proud of, something inside of you feeling heavy with the memory of Renjun and Chenle’s previous words, wondering if it was normal to feel so enamoured when you were looking at your friend smile at you from the court like that.

You were starting to grow anxious as the game neared its end, your leg starting to bounce as you saw the girls in front of you starting to prepare their gifts, reminding you that you had a gift for Donghyuck too.

You wanted to scoff at yourself. You weren’t sure where all your anxiousness was coming from. It wasn’t as if you guys weren’t close. You’d given him plenty of gifts, so what made the flowers so different?

Friends give each other flowers all the time. Yeah, whatever, maybe that’s just my love language, you assured yourself, despite knowing very well that it wasn’t true.

Startling in your seat when you heard the crowd erupt in cheers, you tore your gaze away from the girls in front of you, cursing inwardly when you realised the game had ended and you’d basically missed the final sequence.

“Did you see that?” Chenle turned excitedly to you, beaming.

Laughing nervously, you nodded, surprised he couldn’t tell you were lying with how blatant you were being about it.

“Now we wait,” you heard Renjun sigh, leaning back in his seat with his hands in his lap just as the girls in front of you had stood up, practically running downstairs to head over to the lobby to wait for Donghyuck.

“I wish they could just mail them to his house or something,” you yawned, bending over to pull the bag of flowers out from underneath your seat.

Peeping in the box to check if any of the flowers were damaged, you nodded in satisfaction when you found that they were all still in good condition.

“I can’t wait, I’ve gotta go meet my girlfriend,” Jeno confessed, a sheepish smile on his face, warranting much teasing from the boys.

“I’m hitching a ride with him, what about you Renjun?” Jaemin added, slinging his bag over his shoulder, the two of them giving Renjun an expectant look.

Renjun looked almost contemplative, casting Chenle a glance before shaking his head, “nah, you guys go ahead, I can wait with them.”

You walked with them along to the entrance of the venue, gripping the bag in your hands tightly, switching between holding Jisung’s bouquet in your hands and shoving it into the bag together with Donghyuck’s in your indecision.

You watched as Chenle took a sip of the drink he bought for Jisung, an impressed pout on his lips as he nodded in approval.

“Wow, I should give this place a good review, it still tastes pretty good even after all the waiting.”

You shook your head with a huff, not being able to help the smile from your face, yet at the same time you were thankful Chenle was so calm while waiting, serving to help you calm your nerves as well.

Renjun, however, was the opposite. Leaning against the wall you stood at, he shook his fringe away from his eyes as he let out a loud sigh, his features pinched in annoyance.

“What’s taking him so long?!”

You laughed, “they’re probably still taking group pictures.”

You could already imagine it, the way Donghyuck would pose ridiculously with his teammates, anticipating the shots he would show you later on.

You tried to ignore the way the girls who had sat in front of you were now anxiously fixing their hair while waiting for Donghyuck, practically squealing in their giddy anticipation.

Soon enough, (and thankfully before Chenle could drink too much of Jisung’s drink), you’d watched the double doors open, Donghyuck’s teammates walking out, your eyes widening when you saw who was next to him.

Chenle had summoned Jisung over quickly, giving you a chance to calm down your racing heart that Hyunjin and Donghyuck were beginning to approach Renjun.

Your excitement was short-lived, the girls having ambushed him before he could reach Renjun, holding out their small presents for him.

“Donghyuck you were so cool today! You played so well!”

“Yeah! You look really cool when you play!” You heard another girl chime in.

Suppressing your feelings of annoyance, you decided to ignore them for the time being, tuning out their words as you tried to focus on your task at hand.

“Here,” you shoved the flowers to Jisung, his eyes wide as he sipped on the drink Chenle got him, a surprised smile making its way on his face.

“You bought these?” He mumbled through his mouthful of tapioca pearls, shaking his head to arrange his hair, though it didn’t do much since it was already messy from playing, sticking out at strange places.

Rolling your eyes, you ignored the way Donghyuck was tugging on your hand, asking for your attention.

“No, they’re from mom,” you shook your head, “anyway, are you two going out after this?”

Chenle gave you a pleading smile, making you scrunch your nose up with a smile. You were never one to say no to Chenle.

“Alright, go, just remember to tell mom you’ll be late, okay?” You reminded, watching as Jisung’s mouth fell agape in realisation, nodding appreciatively at you before he started to walk off with Chenle.

Trying to keep your tone steady, you’d finally turned around to face Renjun, Hyunjin and Donghyuck.

Your breath hitched at the sight of Hyunjin, whose stoic expression changed to a smile to greet you, bringing a hand up to wave at you.

“Hey,” he huffed.

“Hi,” you cursed yourself at how breathless you sounded, raising your hand despite Donghyuck’s fingers gripping tightly on the sleeve of your school sweater.

You missed the offence in Donghyuck’s glare, said boy unable to believe that you were paying more attention to Hyunjin than you were to him at the moment.

Like you said, Donghyuck was selfish, and he couldn’t stand the fact that Hyunjin was getting more attention from you than he was.

What was this, a smiling contest?

Donghyuck wanted to scoff, tightening his grip on your sleeve, though it didn’t seem to bother you, your mood seeming to have lifted just from seeing Hyunjin.

Renjun seemed to have sensed Donghyuck’s tension, trying his best as he tried to divert your attention back to Donghyuck, trying to signal to Hyunjin that it would be better to leave the two of you alone.

“Hey, yeah so you were telling me about that thing just now?” Renjun interrupted whatever strange exchange you were having with Hyunjin.

His sudden question made Hyunjin’s eyebrows lower in confusion, earning a desperate look from Renjun (which you’d missed while you were busy looking at the pretty earrings Hyunjin was wearing).

Donghyuck caught on quickly to Renjun’s intentions, the latter discreetly waving his hand in a silent plead for him to go ahead.

“Right, okay, we’ll be off now. Bye!” Donghyuck beamed, his grip moving to your wrist before pulling you out of the venue.

“Why’d you leave so quick? I was having a great time,” you scoffed, stumbling once he’d let you go, regaining your balance ungracefully, dropping the bag of flowers with a gasp.

Donghyuck rolled his eyes, straightening out his jersey as if you’d gotten it messed up when he’d dragged you out from the venue.

“Yeah, I could tell. I could see your heart eyes for Hyunjin from a mile away,” he scoffed, “actually, now that I’m thinking about it...” he helped you up, looking elsewhere as he pretended to be upset at you.

You dusted off the bag, flinching away when Donghyuck had turned abruptly to face you.

“Do you just come for my games as an excuse to drool over Hyunjin?”

You grit your teeth, huffing as you shoved the bag containing his bouquet towards him, hitting him in the chest with your fist as you did so. Letting out a dramatic whine in feigned hurt, his eyes widened at the sight of the bag, his hand wrapping around yours and tugging the bag out of your grip.

“What’s this? For me?” His smile grew, holding his shoe bag between his elbow and his waist, opening the bag and pulling out the bouquet with a slow gasp, his expression abruptly dropping, “please tell me these weren’t from your mom.”

You groaned, walking ahead of him, “they weren’t. I bought them.”

Donghyuck’s lips pressed against each other firmly, poorly concealing his smile, taking his phone out and holding it out as if about to take a selfie, beckoning you over with the bouquet.

“Come here, I need evidence that this happened.”

You tried to maintain your glare, though you couldn’t help the smile from your face, reaching over to take his shoe bag and water bottle from him, carrying it behind your back so it wasn’t visible in the picture. Taking the picture quickly, Donghyuck smiled at his handiwork.

“You’re an ass, you know that? I spent the rest of my week’s allowance on your stupid flowers,” you laughed, swinging his shoe bag as you walked, turning to him with a smile, not being able to stay annoyed at him with how happy he looked.

Maybe you weren’t so upset about spending your money on the flowers anymore.

Donghyuck brought the flowers beneath his nose, inhaling and letting out a sigh of contentment, glancing at you before looking back down, pulling his phone out in his attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“Whatever. You played really well today,” you told him, “well, not that I understood what was happening during the game, but the girls just now seemed to have thought so too,” you shrugged, turning to him with a playful grin on your face.

Clearing your throat, you tried your best impression of the girls that had approached him just now, “oh Donghyuck! You’re so cool when you play! You look so hot when you’re serious!”

Donghyuck scoffed, trying to hide his blush by pretending to act busy booking a car for the both of you.

“They never said that second part,” he scoffed.

You shrugged, “yeah, well you didn’t hear them during the game. I never knew till now that you had so many girls thirsting over you,” you crouched down next to him, tired from standing.

“Yeah, like how you thirst over Hyunjin?” He shot back, “anyway, the car’s coming in 5 minutes.”

“Okay,” you acknowledged, “and by the way, I don’t thirst over Hyunjin.”

Donghyuck made an obnoxious sound to imitate you, folding his arms before he used his knee to nudge you, making you lose your balance and fall onto your bum.

“Yeah, sure,” he drawled, a smug smirk on his face.

The both of you sat in a fatigued silence until the car had arrived, Donghyuck having entered before you, setting the flowers carefully on his lap, fiddling with the packaging of the bouquet.

You watched as he brought his phone up to check the time, swiping accidentally and revealing his reminders, one of them being ’29 days to my birthday!’ not being able to help the smile from your face.

“Are you having a party this year?” You asked, seeing him nod, yawning loudly as he shoved his phone back into his pocket, making you cast a worried glance towards the driver to see if Donghyuck’s volume had annoyed him.

“Yeah, on the day itself. It’s a Sunday. Can you make it?” You frowned.

“I was supposed to go visit my grandma that week, but I have to check with you again,” you told him, seeing his features pull into a frown.

“Can grandma wait a few days more?” He sulked, and you turned your gaze away from the window to look at him in both disbelief and amusement, almost knowing he would have said that.

You saw him leaning closer to rest his head on your shoulder, pulling his phone back out to change the subject, not wishing to let himself feel upset at the thought that you might not be able to make it for his birthday party.

“Look, I came out really well in the pictures we took just now,” Donghyuck showed you the group picture of his volleyball team, making you zoom into where he was, conveniently standing next to Hyunjin.

Donghyuck seemed to have realised this, swiping the picture so you were only able to see him in the photo, making you laugh, shoving his phone away.

“Have you figured out what you wanted for your birthday?” You asked, trying to turn your head in an attempt to see his face better but not doing a very good job, giving up and settling on looking at his fingers which were touching the sunflower petals gently.

Donghyuck thought off of the top of his head, wanting to slap himself when his first thought was that he’d wanted a kiss from you. He was definitely spending too much time with Jaemin.

“No, I’m not sure yet,” he yawned, snuggling more into you, and you’d relaxed your shoulder in your hopes to make him feel more comfortable.

You nodded, “think about it, okay? Let me know so I can get it for you.”

You were thankful that you were already reaching your house, since Donghyuck was already beginning to doze off after a short period of silence, his head slowly sliding down your shoulder before he would jerk back awake and resume his previous position.

Eventually, he’d pulled his head away from your shoulder, bringing his hand up to push his hair away from his forehead haphazardly.

“I’m so tired.”

“Maybe you should try to sleep early today, you don’t have to wake up early tomorrow, do you?”

He sighed, pausing before groaning, possibly with more anguish than his sigh, “I do. I’ve got some stupid student council thing tomorrow that I’ve got to be in school early for.”

You gave him your best look of pity, “on a Saturday?”

He nodded gravely, “we’re hosting the student council members from other schools too. I wouldn’t go if I had a choice but they’re giving me credits for attending, and you and I both know I need all the credits I can get,” he sighed, sinking down in his seat.

Donghyuck noticed how you’d begun to gather your things, a part of him wishing he hadn’t fallen asleep so he could’ve talked to you more.

Feeling the car start to slow down, he’d given you a tired smile, “bye.”

You nodded, waving him goodbye before exiting the car.

===

The next time you’d met Donghyuck was during lunch in school the next Monday, you were seated with your friends at your usual table in the cafeteria, away from the crowd so it wouldn’t feel stuffy but also in a position where you would have a direct view of almost everyone in the cafeteria.

“Can you come for my finals match?” was the first thing he’d asked you upon squeezing himself next to you on the bench, your eyes falling onto his absence of his badge above his breast pocket.

“Name tag,” you reminded out of habit, seeing him glance down at his chest before fumbling in his pocket to pull out his name tag, pinning it onto his shirt with haste.

“It’s next week,” he told you, “on a Friday,” he added as an afterthought.

You nodded, “I don’t think I have anything planned that day, for now.”

“Okay, great. Text you later,” he beamed, about to leave when you’d grabbed his wrist before he could.

“Are you not eating?”

Donghyuck paused to process what you were asking, momentarily thrown off by your hand on his forearm, not to mention the way he’d almost let his heart flutter at your concern, shaking his head a little belatedly.

“No, yeah. I’m eating with the dnyl guys,” you nodded slowly, letting go of his arm before waving him off.

“Bye,” he left quickly, strangely excited after receiving the news that you would be able to go for his match, especially since it was his final match for your national competition among the different schools.

Jogging over to the empty classroom he’d opened for the dnyl club to meet, he’d barged into the class, shocking Renjun with his loud entrance.

“Oh my God, I thought you were a teacher,” his hand flew to cover his chest where his heart was, glaring at Donghyuck.

The boy remained unapologetic, taking a seat at one of the tables they’d pushed together to form a misshapen circle.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he’d set it on the table.

“So, did you ask them about your match?” Jaemin asked, tearing open the packaging of his bun.

“Yep,” Donghyuck smiled.

“Are you referring to Y/N?” Jeno asked, setting his phone down when it was still open on one of his battleground rounds, his interests clearly not being in his match anymore.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck murmured, reaching over to grab a bun from the bag on Jaemin’s table.

“How’s things going with her?” Jeno continued, making Donghyuck shrug, suddenly focused on getting the packet of bread open,

“What do you mean?”

Donghyuck sighed, at the difficulty of tearing the packaging open or at the topic, he wasn’t too sure.

“You know, didn’t you have this whole plan to win her over by your birthday?” Jaemin chimed in, sensing Jeno’s confusion.

Renjun eyed Donghyuck carefully as he saw his phone light up with notifications, Donghyuck glancing at his phone briefly before looking away almost in disappointment.

“Who’s texting you?” Renjun murmured, earning confused looks from Jeno and Jaemin for changing the topic so quickly.

Donghyuck managed to tear an opening in the packet with his teeth, taking a bite out of his bun, “oh, this girl I met on Saturday that was helping out at the student council event.”

“Oh, do you guys have to do like a project together or something?” Renjun asked, though he knew better than to think Donghyuck actually did things for the student council.

Donghyuck shook his head.

“Nope, we’re just like..talking. She’s pretty nice, and like, fun I guess. She’s pretty popular too” he shrugged.

Jaemin’s mouth fell open, looking almost offended, “what about Y/N?”

Donghyuck shrugged, “what about her?”

Jeno gave Renjun a surprised look, the both of them glancing back at Jaemin quickly to see what Jaemin would respond with.

The latter scoffed, not seeming to understand Donghyuck’s logic this time.

“Oh, well, maybe because if I were you and I really liked someone, I wouldn’t be hitting on other girls?”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes.

“I’m not...hitting on her, we’re just talking, that’s all there is to it.”

Renjun let out a low whistle, the discomfort of the tension between Jaemin and Donghyuck feeling heavy in the room.

“Whatever you say, man.”

“Look, I do like Y/N. I really really do. But how am I supposed to know if things are gonna work in my favour in the end? I mean, I know I can try but, I’m putting myself up to get hurt too, you know?”

Once again, Donghyuck proved that he was selfish, afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve like how Renjun did. Protecting it was first priority, especially when he still wasn’t clear on how you felt.

Jeno pursed his lips, nodding slowly, huffing.

“Well, I guess that’s what we’re here for. Think about it, you’re the only one out of the four of us that doesn’t have a girlfriend yet. If anything, our advice would be for your benefit, not the other way around.”

Donghyuck wanted to groan. He wanted to believe them, he really did. But a part of him couldn’t shake the way even Hyunjin seemed to have more odds in winning you over than he did, the feeling of fighting a losing battle.

But ultimately, Donghyuck nodded, dismissing the topic, “yeah, whatever. I don’t need love, right? That’s the whole reason Harvey made me join this stupid club anyway.”

In other words, the only reason why Donghyuck joined the club was because he realised that seeing your stupid smile went from feeling familiar to feeling unfamiliar, and it was the kind of unfamiliar that Donghyuck knew was akin to the heart-pounding, time- slowing love that movie protagonists always went on about.

And he figured he’d might as well surround himself with stories of unfortunate love lives, because he knew his was screwed.

The boys exchanged knowing looks with each other, choosing to brush the topic off for Donghyuck’s sake.

“So, how’s preparation for your match been going?”

===

“I still can’t believe mom asked you to tag along,” you huffed, pushing the shopping cart with your body as you strolled past the cereal aisle, Jisung dumping several boxes into the cart.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I wanted to spend my night getting groceries with the both of you,” he glanced at the list on his phone your mom had sent him.

Donghyuck was ahead of the both of you, looking at the party items in the other aisle.

“Why’s he buying his birthday stuff so early, anyway?” Jisung asked, making you smile.

“He’s excited. It’s best to leave him be.” You glanced down at Donghyuck’s phone, reading the list and checking off the items you already had.

“How many people are you planning on hosting?” You called, getting Donghyuck’s attention successfully as you strolled over towards where he was in the supermarket.

Donghyuck hummed, holding a long bag of plastic cups in his hand as he did his mental calculations.

“Well, there’s the volleyball team, there’s some people from the student council, the guys and their girlfriends...some classmates—”

You pulled out another bag of cups, handing it over to Donghyuck, “just get two to be safe.”

“Does that mean I get to drink too?” Jisung asked, his eyebrows raising.

You shot him a look, making him raise his hands in surrender.

“Forget I asked.”

“So...if your volleyball team’s going, does that mean Hyunjin’s going too?” You asked, already anticipating Donghyuck’s reaction, not being able to help your giggle when you saw him look at you blankly.

“If you keep this up, it’s gonna be the volleyball team minus Hyunjin.”

You scoffed, “hey, I’ve gotta have something to look forward to, right?”

Donghyuck pulled the end of the shopping cart towards another section, “is it not enough to look forward to the fact that it’s a celebration of my entering into this world?”

Rolling your eyes, you looked back at the list of items on Donghyuck’s phone, about to retort with something witty when you saw an unfamiliar contact appear on the phone, frowning before reluctantly holding the phone out for Donghyuck to take. Mina?

“Someone’s calling you,” you told him, Jisung bending over to read the contact name before giving you a confused look, expecting you to know who they were.

There was a sinking feeling in you when you saw the way Donghyuck’s demeanour had changed upon reading the contact, taking the phone from you roughly and answering it, the tone of his ‘hello’ already making you question just who this person was that Donghyuck was so quick to answer.

“Hey," he murmured, smiling at something whoever it was on the phone was saying to him.

"Who is it?" Jisung whispered, making you shrug.

"How would I know?" you shrugged, trying to listen in on the conversation but not being very successful.

"Yeah, no I'm alright to talk," you heard him say, "nothing, I'm just out with my friends."

You pretended to be occupied with the items in the shopping cart, oblivious to the way Jisung was eyeing the both of you.

"Yeah, actually it's for my birthday party. Do you wanna come? It's on the 6th," he murmured, fiddling with the disposable plates he'd just picked up.

Was he blushing? You couldn't believe the feelings of annoyance that were building in you at the sight of him.

Since when was Lee Donghyuck so shy talking to his friends on the phone?

You scoffed, getting Donghyuck's attention unintentionally, the boy looking at you expectantly. You chose to ignore his look, much to Jisung's shock.

Jisung whipped his phone out discreetly, deciding that desperate times called for desperate measures.

7:08pm -do u know anything abt this person called mina?-

chenle 7:08pm -jeno says its the girl donghyuck's talking to-

7:08pm -but doesnt he like y/n?-

chenle 7:08pm -yeah he does but jeno says hes being a wuss... n personally i think y/n's in denial too-

7:08pm - sure seems like it.. donghyuck's on a phonecall with her now n y/n looks more than pissed-

chenle 7:09pm -maybe u shld ask y/n abt it later n see what she says-

Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Jisung watched silently as Donghyuck ended his phone call, his smile lingering on his face a little too long for your liking.

"Who was that?" you asked, hoping the edge in your voice wasn't too obvious.

Unfortunately, it was, and Donghyuck couldn't help but let his smile grow at the thought of you possibly being jealous that he was talking to her.

"Oh, just this girl I've been talking to. Met her at the student council event that day."

You scrunched up your nose, letting out a small sigh, "cool...so she's going for your party too?"

Donghyuck narrowed his eyes at you, a small smirk playing at his lips.

"Uh-huh. Why? Is there an issue?" he drawled, leaning over the side of the trolley to bring his face closer to yours.

Yes, there was an issue.

Although Donghyuck may be unapologetically selfish at times, you, for one, were not. You didn't think it was very supportive of you to be so possessive over Donghyuck. I mean, it's a good thing that he's meeting people, isn't it? It's not like we're dating, there's nothing to be jealous about.

"No issue," you rolled your eyes, pushing the cart past him to head to the cashier.

"What's up with her?" Donghyuck laughed, hoping Jisung would give him some insight on your feelings.

Jisung gave Donghyuck a look of sheer disbelief.

"What's up with you!" Jisung whispered harshly, confused as to what Donghyuck's intentions were.

"Oh, so you're gonna shit on me for it too?"

Jisung gave him a look, "not without reason.”

"Look, trust me. I got it covered. The last thing I would want is to fight with Y/N, alright?"

Jisung glanced at you while you sulkily scanned your items at a self-checkout register, directing his gaze back to Donghyuck with a sigh.

"I know, just....be careful."

Later on that night, (or morning), Jisung had gone downstairs to grab a snack from the fridge, spotting you lounging on the sofa, practically glaring at the television.

"What's up?" Jisung's voice snapped you out of your annoyed state, after being told that this Mina girl he was talking to was not only awfully pretty and sporty by your friends who knew her, but that her personality meshed well with Donghyuck's.

"Nothing," you sighed, seeing Jisung raise his eyebrows, thinking back to what Chenle had told him and figuring now would be a good time to ask you.

"Are you sure? You looked kind of upset since Donghyuck picked up that call."

Your eyes widened, not realising your feelings had been so obvious. Shrugging, you'd fiddled with your phone.

"What are you trying to say?"

Jisung averted his gaze, sitting on the sofa next to you, hugging one of his knees to his chest.

"Do you like Donghyuck?"

You scoffed, almost choking on your saliva, looking at him with wide eyes. Opening your mouth, you closed it back again for lack of a good response.

"'Cause....you know, it's kind of obvious that he likes you.”

You shook your head, huffing in amusement, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"No, like really. The volleyball guys all think so, and so do his dnyl guys," you furrowed your eyebrows.

"Volleyball guys? So Hyunjin knows this too?" you asked, wondering how ridiculous it would've seemed that you were so smiley towards him even when Donghyuck was right there. That is, if what Jisung was saying was correct.

Jisung rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure he knows."

You gasped lightly, "how many people even know about this? Okay, but, whatever that’s kind of beside the point. What makes you so sure?"

Jisung contemplated telling you about just how much he mentions you or asks about you in their conversations, or how Donghyuck was visibly more affectionate whenever you were involved. Even how Donghyuck had been trying different ways to get your attention, particularly through inviting you to his games (but that didn't seem to be working out with how little you paid attention during the last one).

Eventually, he figured it would be better if he didn't put ideas in your head, deeming it better that you figure it out on your own.

"I'm just sure, okay? Maybe you should try just observing and seeing how much he does for you.”

Jisung shrugged, getting up from the sofa, "maybe then you'll realise you like him too," he snickered, running up the stairs before you could respond.

You rolled your eyes, going back to glaring at the television. Except this time, your gaze kept wandering to your phone. Curse Jisung for making you curious.

Almost as if on cue, you’d received a text from Donghyuck.

lee donghyuck 12:34am -u awake?-

You had a few options in your head. Firstly, to ignore him and pretend you were asleep. Secondly, to reply him and bring up what Jisung had said as a joke. Thirdly, to just act like everything was normal yet not normal and that you weren’t totally scared that he was going to fall in love with Mina.

The temptation to be selfish was there, of course, to just ignore the situation for the sake of your sanity and leave Donghyuck hanging. But you knew that your worry for him overrode all sorts of selfishness you could possibly give in to.

For now, you’d chosen option three.

12:35am -yeah, what’s up?-

lee donghyuck 12:35am -can I call you?-

You didn’t respond, choosing to find his contact on your own and dial his number.

“Hey,” you sighed, hearing muffled sounds on his side before a small grunt and a thud, almost being able to picture Donghyuck

lying on his bed and talking to you, something about the mental image feeling endearing.

“Hey.”

“What happened?” You asked, the question catching Donghyuck off-guard.

Despite the countless number of times you’d called each other in the night like this, you’d never asked why, frankly not deeming it to be anything other than Donghyuck’s or your boredom. Only now, you were beginning to wonder if there were more to unfold behind these phone calls, and you were hoping Donghyuck would give you the answers.

“Nothing, nothing happened, I just...like, you know...couldn’t sleep...and stuff.”

You huffed, “you never sleep this early.”

Donghyuck sighed, not knowing what came over him when he’d said his next words.

“Do you want me to say I wanted to hear your voice for a while?”

You fell silent, expecting to hear him follow up with a ‘kidding’ or a ‘because that isn’t why I called’, yourself growing anxious the more you didn’t hear anything else from him.

Shifting on the sofa, you’d lay down and put Donghyuck on speaker, setting your phone next to your head.

“Hello?” You heard him murmur, making you clear your throat.

“Have you decided on what you wanted for your birthday?” You changed the subject quickly, trying to steady the beating of your heart.

You heard him huff, his voice sounding tired.

“Yeah. I decided that...” Donghyuck caught himself before he could slip up like before, shaking his head quickly, “I want a plant.”

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“A plant?”

“Yeah, like get me those, I don’t know like a plant I can take care of or something,” he panicked, “with a flower, like an orchid or something.”

You frowned, nodding slowly as you tried to understand his sudden request. Meanwhile, Donghyuck couldn’t help the regret that washed over him that he’d wasted his birthday wish like that.

“Okay, yeah. I’m feeling better now, goodnight.”

Donghyuck hung up quickly, kicking his blanket in frustration, rolling over and burying his face into the pillow.

Got it covered? Please.

===

After much observation, you were starting to realise that Donghyuck meant many things to you, and you didn’t like how it took you a situation like this to figure it out.

Firstly, with all his match preparations, Donghyuck was kept busy, but that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t receive all sorts of updates on him from Jisung at home. You were starting to wonder if he was a part of Donghyuck’s fan club as well.

You were having your science lesson in the lab, Donghyuck being your lab partner (fortunately and unfortunately for you), the said boy looking more tired today than ever.

“Are you alright? You look like shit,” you offered, pretending to be focused on removing your test tube from your beaker.

“Feel like it too,” he brought his hand up to run it through his hair, “stayed up late last night to help Mina with this proposal she had to write up.”

You scoffed, “you? Help her?”

In your annoyance, you’d applied too much force on your tweezers, practically cutting your specimen before you could place it down.

Donghyuck smiled, glancing at your annoyed expression after what happened to your leaf.

“Yeah, what’s so shocking about that? I kind of owed her.”

You stopped yourself from responding, deciding you shouldn’t be too bitter about their relationship. Shrugging, you shook your head in dismissal.

“Nothing. I guess it’s nice that you guys can help each other out.”

Donghyuck’s lips formed a surprised pout, his eyebrows raising slightly, not having expected you to be so gracious about it.

“So, uh...have you told your grandma to postpone your visit?” He brought up later on when you were on your way back to class.

You nodded, “yeah, I’m visiting her this weekend instead.”

Donghyuck couldn’t help the smile from his face, looking elsewhere as he relished in the way the sun shone in through the corridors, the warmth mirroring what he’d felt building in his chest.

“Nice.”

You felt it too. The way his smile was like that of the sun rays he enjoyed so much, how it made you feel scared. Scared that you were so used to seeing him smile like that until now.

You looked away quickly, hugging your books closer to your chest, accidentally brushing your finger against the paper, hissing when you’d felt a sting.

Pulling your hand away from your books, you’d groaned at the sight of blood on your finger, making Donghyuck turn to you with wide eyes, his gaze falling onto your source of distress.

The displeased sound that had left Donghyuck was even more obvious to you now, the way he’d gone to grab your wrist when you brought your hand to your mouth in your attempt to stop the bleeding.

“You should be more careful,” he chided, making you nudge his arm away, his concern putting you on the spot even more now that you were getting confused over your feelings towards him.

“It’s fine, it’s just a small paper cut.”

Donghyuck furrowed his eyebrows, leading you back into the classroom and sitting you down on your seat, scuffling over to his desk and rummaging through his bag, pulling out a small pouch and making his way back to you.

“I got these from Jaemin,” he grinned, squatting next to your desk as you turned to face him, watching closely as he pulled out a bright coloured, kid’s band-aid with Pororo the penguin printed on it.

You lightly thumped him on the head, uncomfortable with the stares you were getting from the people sitting around you, wondering if they too thought that Donghyuck was interested in you. A part of you wishing now that Jisung hadn’t shed light on Donghyuck’s (possible) feelings for the sake of your sanity.

“You’re being so dramatic, I don’t need a band-aid.”

Donghyuck sucked in a sharp breath, his expression stern and unwavering, “shut up, just hold still.”

He’d opened the band-aid, wrapping it carefully around your cut, leaning back with a satisfied smile to admire his handiwork.

“All better,” he beamed.

“Lee Donghyuck, please go back to your own seat,” you’d startled, your heartbeat audible in your ears, having barely noticed your teacher entering the classroom.

Shoving Donghyuck away quickly and turning to face the front, your hands went up to press against your cheeks as Donghyuck calmly strolled back to his seat, giving your teacher a slow nod as he walked past her.

Donghyuck had bid you goodbye before his training that day, telling you that he would call you that night because he had something to tell you.

So you waited, you’d waited even though you knew that the volleyball team had gone out for drinks despite their game being the next day, running later than he’d estimated, and you waited until you ended up falling asleep with your phone in hand.

Meanwhile, Donghyuck had gone home in a daze, partially giddy from excitement for his finals but also at the thought of what had happened earlier in the morning with you and your paper cut, not knowing that the small gesture was enough to send him reeling.

Grabbing his volleyball, he’d flopped on his back onto his bed, tossing the volleyball in the air and catching it absently, thinking about what the volleyball team had brought up during dinner.

“Y/N’s coming tomorrow for sure right?” Hyunjin had asked Jisung, a playful smirk on his face. This made Donghyuck narrow his eyes at Hyunjin, chewing on his noodles harshly.

Jisung nodded, “yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“Why does it seem like her coming is so important to you?” Bomin laughed, making Donghyuck nod in agreement, nodding his head at Hyunjin in a challenging manner.

“Isn’t it obvious? For Donghyuck’s sake,” Hyunjin smiled, his eyes forming small crescents as he did so.

The sight would’ve been absolutely endearing for you, however, Donghyuck couldn’t help but scoff.

“What do you mean ‘for my sake?’” Donghyuck huffed, narrowing his eyes at Jisung who had seemed to agree with Hyunjin as well.

“You probably haven’t noticed, but...you play a lot better when she’s around.”

Donghyuck sighed, laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

No amount of texts, calls or face-times with Mina would be enough to make Donghyuck change the way he felt about you, and it was a shame to him that he could only step out of his denial at this point of time.

Yet, there was still a nagging fear of the possible awkwardness and tension that could arise if you didn’t reciprocate his feelings like how he assumed you did. A vicious cycle, really.

Turning in his bed, he’d discarded the volleyball elsewhere in his room, taking his phone and unlocking it, his finger hovering over the phone app as he let his gaze fall on his wallpaper, the picture the both of you had taken on the day of his last match. The flowers were still on his tabletop, at this point, dried and ready to be displayed in his room however he wanted.

Trying his luck, he’d called you, the ringing having woken you up from your slumber, picking up the phone call hurriedly.

“Hello?” he huffed, already smiling without noticing.

You hummed in response, too tired to form a coherent response.

“Did I wake you?”

“Uh-huh.”

Donghyuck let out a small sigh, “sorry, just wanted to tell you to meet me tomorrow after my match ends.”

You groaned, “you couldn’t have waited until tomorrow morning to tell me that?”

Donghyuck had to stop himself from giggling at the sound of your voice, even if it was when you were annoyed at him.

“No, I couldn’t. Goodnight,” he murmured, pulling his blanket up on his chest to hug it, closing his eyes in anticipation.

“I hate you, goodnight.”

Donghyuck shrugged, he figured he could live with that for now. His (rather irritable) lucky charm.

===

You were running late. After Donghyuck had called the previous night, you struggled to fall back asleep due to your racing thoughts on possible things Donghyuck could have wanted to tell you. If anything, you’d probably only slept a few hours that night.

Which was what landed you in this situation now, trying to get a cab from where you were at the bus terminal since you’d dozed off on the bus, even in spite of all the energetic music you were playing in your attempts to stay awake.

Donghyuck should have seen it coming when you hadn’t answered his texts when he’d reached the venue. The match was already about to start and Donghyuck still couldn’t seem to spot you in the crowd.

He’d stood up, looking frantically in the direction of where Chenle, Jeno, Renjun and Jaemin sat, mouthing with big movements, ‘where is y/n?’. A part of him growing even more anxious when he was met with shrugs and head shakes.

“Lee Donghyuck, what are you doing? Go! The match is starting,” his coach’s voice rang in his ears, making him dismiss his feelings of anxiousness, trying to focus his thoughts on the game at hand.

You were receiving many texts from the guys, all asking where you were, making you even more anxious that the cab driver wasn’t going any faster.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, you’d met with bad traffic once you’d neared the venue, seeing as it was about time people were getting off work now, which only meant that you’d be close to missing the entirety of Donghyuck’s match, a horrible feeling of guilt stirring in you.

You were sure Donghyuck would be mad at you, knowing how petty he was when it came to things like these. The last time you hadn’t been for his match, he’d never let you live it down, claiming he was so upset you hadn’t shown up and couldn’t focus on his playing properly.

Little did you know, the same thing was happening now, Donghyuck was trying his best to not let his feelings interfere with his performance.

After a particularly successful top-spin serve that had caught the other team off guard, since he’d usually played it safe, he’d turned on instinct to the direction his friends were seated at, expecting to see you there with a smile, his smile falling when he’d realised you still hadn’t arrived.

You were barely reaching the venue when you’d gotten a text from Chenle.

Chenle 6:11pm - are you still showing up? The match just ended -

Looking out the window, your heart sank when you saw some people you recognised to be from your school walking on the pavement next to where you were, your attention diverted back to your phone when you heard another chime from your phone.

Jisung 6:11pm -hey, where r u? Donghyuck said he’d wait for u at the back entrance. Me n the guys r leaving for dinner cause he told us to head over first-

Your leg started to bounce in anxiousness once again, gritting your teeth before deciding that you couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

“Uh, sir? I’ll just get off here,” you murmured, “can you unlock the doors, please?” You blurted.

The man looked at you curiously, “are you sure? It’s quite a far walk.”

“It’s alright! Thank you anyway,” you smiled politely, waiting for him to unlock the doors, immediately shoving the door open once he did and exiting, slinging your bag around your shoulder and running to the back entrance.

Spotting him from afar, relief washed over you that he was still waiting.

Running up to him, you almost hadn’t seen the girl standing in front of him, stopping yourself where you were, not wanting to interrupt them.

Mina was currently standing in front of Donghyuck, asking him a question he frankly wasn’t paying attention to after having spotted you running from the entrance gate.

“So....do you like me?”

Donghyuck’s gaze was still on you, tearing his stare away from you reluctantly to look at Mina, his mouth moving before his head could process the situation.

“Uhhh...yes?”

Donghyuck immediately regretted his words, especially when he saw the smile Mina had given him, also because she didn't have to look twice to know he wasn't paying attention.

Only when he'd agreed, Donghyuck knew that something about his decision didn't feel quite right, deciding that he'd explain his situation in more detail to Mina the next time they met so she wouldn't get the wrong idea.

"So... I'll see you Saturday night then?" Donghyuck nodded.

Bidding him goodbye, Mina had turned her head to look at you, bowing her head slightly in a greeting before walking off, leaving you standing there dumbfounded as Donghyuck made his way towards you.

Glancing at the serious look he had on his face, you were expecting him to scold you, to tell you how upset he was that you hadn't shown up, not expecting him to give you a shy smile, bringing his hand up to smooth your hair down, after it having gotten dishevelled while you were running.

"Was that Mina?" was all you could ask.

Donghyuck huffed, feigning hurt, "no ‘hello Donghyuck how was your match?’"

"Hi," you added after his prompting, "what did uh..." your tongue wet your lips that were feeling awfully dry all of a sudden, "are you...mad at me?”

Donghyuck shook his head, a small smile on his face, shocking you at how gracious he was being all of a sudden.

“What did uh, you know, what did Mina ask you?” you cleared your throat.

Donghyuck's hands were still cupping the sides of your head, "she asked me out."

Your eyes widened, knowing his hands on your head hadn’t prevented you from hearing him loud and clear, a part of you dreading the answer to your next question but knowing you had to ask anyway, "did you say yes?"

Donghyuck looked at you, taking the side of his lower lip between his teeth gently and letting go immediately after. Was he being selfish?

Donghyuck nodded.

His response seemed to have triggered a stream of thoughts in you, ranging from feeling sad to hating why you were sad at the news to desperately trying to suppress your emotions because Donghyuck was your friend and you should be happy for him, right?

You pursed your lips, nodding slowly as you gave him a small smile, bringing your hands up to pull his hands off of your head.

"That's great. I'm...really happy for you, she seems like a great girl."

Donghyuck's eyebrows raised slightly, surprised at your reaction, having obviously expected you to react how you usually did, with passive aggressive comments and subtle hostility in your gaze. But none of that could be seen from you now, if anything, you looked almost....sad?

"I think uh.. I'll skip out on dinner today, you and the guys can go ahead," you told him, "I kind of wanna go home and rest."

Donghyuck nodded, not wanting to prod you more, a part of him feeling that you weren't in the mood for it today.

He'd pulled his phone out while you walked to the front entrance, "I got you a driver, he's coming in 10."

You heard your phone chime, taking it out to see the details of the driver Donghyuck had sent you.

"How much do I owe you?" you asked, earning a disgruntled sound from him, shaking his head.

"You don't owe me, consider it...compensation. For having to rush over here just now just to meet me."

That reminded you.

"Right, I almost forgot. What was it you wanted to meet me to tell me?"

Donghyuck swung his shoe bag, kicking the ground absently before he looked back at you, shaking his head with a small smile.

"It's alright, forget about it," he waved you off in dismissal, "It's not important.”

You frowned. Not important? Lee Donghyuck, kept me worried all night just for something that's suddenly not important?

You scoffed, folding your arms and looking elsewhere, your grip tight on your phone, making your knuckles almost turn white with how tight your hold was.

"Go, you're gonna be late for the dinner," you told him, not being able to handle the sight of him with how mixed your feelings were.

Donghyuck was hesitant, the slight raise of his eyebrows seeming almost disbelieving.

"You sure?"

You paused, not knowing why you even bothered giving this thought, decidedly nodding your head.

"I'm sure."

===

"Are you sure that's gonna work? Like....she won't be mad at you when she finds out or anything?"

Donghyuck shrugged, sipping on his drink calmly.

"Well, that's kind of the point. She wouldn't be getting mad unless she liked me," Donghyuck brought a finger to his temple, looking at Mina with a playful glint in his eye, internally claiming himself to be a genius for this idea.

"So...your plan is to get her so mad that she confronts you?"

Donghyuck nodded, grinning widely in the hopes that his optimism would convince Mina.

Mina tilted her head hesitantly, looking down at her drink, "and you're sure this'll work."

He nodded again, earning a resigned sigh from Mina.

"Okay, fine. I'll do it. But only because you really like her, and I don't think I can handle seeing you silently pine over her any longer."

Donghyuck's grin grew wider if that were even possible, clasping his hands together triumphantly, already feeling as though half of the battle was won.

Pulling out his phone, he'd gone to his Instagram, because yes, Donghyuck wanted to make sure you would've seen it even when you were all the way at your grandma's house.

Taking a picture of Mina and posting it, he'd chosen an intentionally ambiguous caption in the form of emojis just to push your buttons (knowing you would be frustrating yourself while trying to figure out what it means).

"What's this?" Mina asked.

Donghyuck wriggled happily in his seat, satisfied with his post once he was done, “phase one."

And sure enough, Jisung never heard the end of your monologue called 'they should just get married while they’re at it but you know what I’ll just be happy for them: no big deal'

===

After that day, you'd gone days without speaking to Donghyuck. And though that wasn't anything out of the ordinary, since your relationship was at a stage where you could go ages without seeing each other but still remain just as close, contacting each other often.

However, this time it was different for you, knowing that the reason behind his packed schedule was his frequent meetups and study dates with Mina.

As if Lee Donghyuck ever cared about studying.

Donghyuck was currently laying on the floor of the school gym, having finished a particularly tiring training session with some of the guys from the volleyball team.

“Are the rumours about you and that girl true?” Bomin asked, earning a loud groan of protest from Jisung.

“Yeah, speaking of which,” he sat up from the floor with a grunt, his towel draped over his head as he pointed a finger at Donghyuck, “I’ve got a bone to pick with you. Are you dating Mina?”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes.

“What if I said I was?”

Hyunjin frowned, his eyes narrowing in confusion, “didn’t you say you liked Y/N?”

Donghyuck nodded, “I do.” He shrugged, fiddling with his shoelaces as his lower lip jut out in a pout unconsciously.

“Then what’s going on with Mina?” Jisung’s tone was exasperated, not understanding how you could like someone as frustrating as Donghyuck.

“It’s fake,” Donghyuck laughed, amused at how seriously everyone around him was acting, wondering if you were feeling equally as serious.

Jisung fell silent, his mouth agape and his finger hanging in the air, not quite understanding the situation at hand. Hyunjin on the other hand, was quick to understand Donghyuck’s intentions, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“Is this to make her jealous?” He asked, earning a feigned look of uncertainty from Donghyuck.

“Well, that’s the plan.”

Jisung let his back fall back against the floor, kicking his legs and punching at the air with his arms as a sad whimper left his lips.

“I hate you, Lee Donghyuck. I really do. It’s your fault I’ve been getting an earful from her recently,” he whined, getting up abruptly, draping his towel around his neck.

Donghyuck’s eyes widened, “good. Hang in there a little more. It’ll be a matter of time before everything falls into place,” he reached over to pat Jisung on the shoulder, a sweet smile on his face.

Hyunjin took his lower lip between his teeth, pursing his lips as he averted his gaze from Donghyuck, finally speaking.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Donghyuck sighed, “You too? Just trust me, okay? I’ve known her for like...a long while now. And knowing her, she’d be crazy jealous if the guy she liked was doing this. And she wouldn’t be quiet about it either.”

“You can’t just tell her you like her like a sensible person?”

Donghyuck hummed, “I will, okay? Don’t worry about me, I’ve got it covered.”

Jisung huffed, “yeah, right.”

Sighing, Donghyuck had stood up, sighing as he bunched his towel up in his hands, beginning to walk over to his backpack.

“I’ll be heading back now, gonna meet Mina to...discuss,” he waved, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and leisurely exiting the gym.

9:48pm -hey, wanna come over to hang?-

Donghyuck received your text while he was with Mina, hesitating before replying you.

lee donghyuck 9:48pm -alright, you can pick ill be there soon-

Figuring you shouldn’t jump to conclusions as to why he was still out even though Jisung had returned from the gym, you’d lounged on the couch, scrolling absently through social media while you waited for him to reply.

Deciding to play some music while you waited, you’d begun to doze off when Donghyuck had arrived, the boy entering the house anxiously only to spot your head lolling around as you tried to fight your drowsiness.

Walking over to where you were as carefully as he could, he leaned over, letting out a breathy giggle out of sheer affection, reaching out a hand slowly as he deliberated on whether he should wake you, feeling as though it would be selfish of him if he did just because he wanted to spend time with you.

Unfortunately for him, Donghyuck had stepped on a pillow you'd pushed onto the floor previously, letting out a small yelp as he tried regaining his balance.

You'd startled awake, looking up with wide-eyes at Donghyuck who had his hands stretched out beside him as he'd managed to stop himself from falling, looking at you with a sheepish smile.

"Hey," he straightened up, his hands flopping down to his sides, letting out a small sigh.

Funnily enough, it took you more than a few moments to realise you weren't dreaming.

The sight of Donghyuck in his pyjama pants and a simple black t-shirt indicating that he’d showered before coming over, the way he’d smelled of his shampoo and looked ready for sleep had you in a daze, wondering how you’d let yourself get to the point where just looking at him was enough to send you spiralling with your thoughts.

Shaking your head, you spoke, voice slightly hoarse, “sorry, kind of fell asleep while I was waiting," you brought your hands up to rub at your eyes with your palms, letting out a small yawn.

Reaching over to grab your phone, you’d turned your music off as you regained your composure.

Donghyuck took a seat next to you, shifting his body so he could face you more, one of his hands resting on the back of the sofa comfortably.

“Are you tired? Do you want me to come over another time?” He murmured, earning a firm shake of the head from you.

“It’s fine,” you dismissed the thought quickly, not adding the part where you had missed him.

Donghyuck nodded, leaning back so his head was resting on the plush armrest of the sofa comfortably, reaching over for the remote control and turning the television on, turning on a movie the both of you had probably watched a million times but never gotten sick of.

“Did you go anywhere before this? I was wondering what was taking you so long when Jisung came home earlier,” you mumbled out of curiosity, leaning back comfortably on the sofa in a position that mirrored Donghyuck’s, your legs bent at the knees and leant against the sofa next to his, which were stretched out fully.

You’d felt one of his hands rest just above your knee comfortably, his thumb rubbing your leg gently.

Donghyuck glanced briefly at you before directing his gaze back to the television, “oh, you know, just went to meet Mina for dinner.”

You nodded slowly, a low hum leaving you, “oh...cool.”

He seemed happy. You didn’t want to make him feel bad about being with Mina just because you had a problem with it. You’d never even thought much about him at first, it wouldn’t have been fair if you just claimed him as yours when he was already in a relationship with Mina, you figured.

Donghyuck sighed, his hands stretching out in a force of habit gesture he would use to beckon you to cuddle with him, only now realising that that may not have been all that appropriate considering he was supposed to be pretending to date Mina.

“That’s nice. I’m really happy for you that you found someone like her,” you mustered with a small smile on your face.

You’d sensed his reservation too, feeling as though you were both being banished to either end of the sofa, not allowed to go any closer.

Donghyuck frowned, your reaction seeming to have been unsatisfactory for him.

“Really? You’re not like...mad or anything?” he prompted, making you laugh.

“You sound like you want me to be mad,” you huffed, flustering Donghyuck into opening and closing his mouth, fumbling with his words.

“I mean like, no, like, you are entitled to feeling however you want about it, like...” he stopped himself, “you’re really not mad?”

You sighed, turning away from the television to look at Donghyuck, who was already looking at you bewildered.

“Look, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t bothered by the fact that you’re a lot busier now, but what kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t even support you when you’re happy with her?”

Donghyuck shut his lips tightly, not knowing how to react to your statement, wondering if he was wrong to assume that you had feelings for him.

You hummed, letting your legs rest over his slightly as you turned your body to face the television.

Donghyuck inhaled deeply, debating on whether or not now would be a good time to tell you, but knowing that it would put you in a tight spot since he hadn’t ended things with Mina yet.

Today, Donghyuck figured he shouldn’t be selfish.

Choosing not to pursue the topic more, Donghyuck had let you continue to watch the movie. Though as you did so, laughing and cooing at the happy and sad parts of the movie, Donghyuck couldn’t keep his gaze from wandering to you from time to time. As if it was second nature for him to gauge your reaction during the comedic parts just to make sure you were enjoying yourself.

Or maybe, it was just an excuse to look at you, the line had blurred a long time ago for him.

Only later on in the movie, Donghyuck couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander to how you felt towards his (fake) relationship, picking up his phone to distract himself only to see the many texts that had flooded in from the dnyl chat group.

renjun 12:59am - donghyuck what is this about you and mina -

jeno 12:59am – yeah! I heard from chenle abt it...-

renjun 1:00am - I think this is possibly the worst idea you’ve ever had -

jaemin 1:00am – I don’t want to lie to y/n >:( 1:00am – - im gonna tell Harvey -

jeno 1:02am – same! n btw chenle said she felt rly bad about missing ur match –

renjun 1:02am – jeno idk how that’s relevant but sure we’ll take it –

jaemin 1:03am – a part of me is kind of curious how this would play out at hyuck’s party though –

jeno 1:03am - oh right, isn’t it this weekend? -

renjun 1:03am - yeah it is -

jeno 1:04 am – how are u guys getting there? are we helping Donghyuck set up? –

jaemin 1:04am – I’m cool w that -

Donghyuck typed out his reply discreetly enough without you noticing, too distracted by the movie.

1:20am -trust me I have a plan-

Setting his phone down on the coffee table, he’d looked at you, debating on whether or not to ask you what was weighing on his mind, catching him off guard when you had turned to look at him, eyebrows raising curiously.

“What’s wrong? The movie’s over”

Donghyuck paused, turning to realise that the movie was indeed over and he hadn’t paid attention at all for the last bit.

“Nothing. I was like...was wondering if you were gonna come early this weekend to help me set up for the party.”

You felt a tinge of disappointment, hoping it hadn’t shown too much in your expression as you gave him a delayed nod, letting out a small sigh that you masked to be because you were tired.

“Yeah, of course,” you huffed.

Donghyuck nodded, getting up abruptly, “I should probably be heading back now, you should get some rest.”

You frowned, but nodded nonetheless, “okay,” you stood up, walking closely behind him.

Donghyuck contemplated asking if he could stay over, almost forgetting his entire plan for a second (and then wondering if he even had a legitimate plan in the first place), his hesitation causing his body to function faster than he could process, turning around abruptly without warning.

His sudden halt making you yelp, almost colliding into him and stopping yourself just in time, Donghyuck reacting quickly and reaching his hand out to grab your arm in an attempt to steady you.

Something about the air had thickened with tension then. Donghyuck blamed it on his prior racing thoughts, because looking at you now, he definitely did not have a plan.

You, on the other hand, blamed it on the way you weren’t even focused on the movie to begin with, too occupied with hating the feeling of pining after somebody that was already taken. But whatever it was, you knew that you didn’t have much of a plan either.

This was too close. You should’ve stuck to whatever 2 metre radius you had on the sofa just now, because if you were already distracted by his presence then, it was definitely a lot worse now.

You could smell the fabric softener of his shirt, feeling him squeeze your arm gently as you dared yourself to look up at him, your breath hitching at the way he was looking at you.

Maybe you were just imagining things.

Like how you were ‘imagining’ the way he seemed to be leaning closer to you, his gaze flickering between your features to ultimately end up on your lips, almost as if he was gravitating towards you.

Donghyuck scoffed. The universe was basically begging me to kiss my close friend.

Just as you’d felt yourself leaning closer as well, you’d begun to process what was happening, stepping back quickly and averting your gaze, suddenly interested in what was in your kitchen.

“I should go.”

You huffed nervously, “yeah, you should.”

Donghyuck nodded, wordlessly leaving your house, shutting the door behind him as he left, the only sound left being the trailer for whatever movie was on the television sounding throughout your living room.

=== You were sure this was going to be a very long day.

You’d just bought your present for Donghyuck from the florist, packing it carefully in a nice bag before you headed over to his house, only to have arrived at Donghyuck’s house to see him and Mina busy with preparing snacks.

You’d entered the kitchen to be met with a laughing Donghyuck and a squealing Mina, joking around as they prepared the various food and snacks.

“Oh, hey, you’re here! Is that a gift? If it is you can put it up in Donghyuck’s room,” she smiled at you.

You’d returned her smile out of politeness, ignoring the way Donghyuck was looking at you as though he was searching your face for any emotions that were out of the ordinary. You hoped you weren’t being too obvious with your forced smile, turning quickly so you could let your smile drop, wanting to roll your eyes.

What was this? Their housewarming party?

Huffing, you’d left the kitchen, meeting Hyunjin and Jisung on the way upstairs, Jisung nudging you as a greeting as he continued down the stairs.

Hyunjin reacted quickly, calling out to Jisung, “hey, I’ll meet you downstairs later,” he called, turning around and accompanying you upstairs.

“Hey, how’ve you been?” he asked, earning a shrug from you, opening the door to Donghyuck’s room as you took the plant out of the bag.

“I’ve been good, I guess. You?” you spoke as you walked over to his balcony to place the small potted flower on the small table he had there, admiring the way it looked.

“Uh... good too...I guess,” he huffed in amusement, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck, fiddling with his collar.

Hyunjin figured he’d might as well try to distract you from paying too much attention to Donghyuck and Mina.

“D’you wanna help Jisung and I with the decorations?” he offered, earning a nod from you.

“Yeah, sure. Not like I have anything better to do here,” you shrugged, letting him lead you downstairs to the living room where you saw Jisung and Jeno sitting on the floor at the coffee table, focused on cutting something to decorate the makeshift backdrop Donghyuck had where the photos would be taken later on.

“Where’s the rest?” Hyunjin asked, making Jisung and Jeno look up.

Jeno gave you a smile in greeting, beckoning you over to sit with him.

“Jaemin and Renjun went to collect the balloons. Chenle....” he looked at Jisung in the hopes that he would know where his friend was.

“In the kitchen spying on Donghyuck and Mina.”

You scoffed, not being able to help the laugh from bubbling out of you.

“He should leave them alone, wouldn’t want to spoil their alone time.”

Hyunjin gave you a surprised look as Jisung scoffed, “please, as if they don’t get plenty of alone time as it is.”

You’d made a displeased sound, knowing you agreed with him but not wanting to be sulky about it.

“Yeah, well,” you’d cut a piece of tape to hand to Jeno, “It’s not like I can tell him who to spend his time with, can I?”

Jeno perked up at the statement, “yes, you can. You totally can. You should definitely do that.”

Assuming they were joking with how quick Hyunjin and Jisung were to agree, you’d let out a chuckle, shaking your head.

“Y/N, can you follow me to go hang these up?” Hyunjin asked, holding up the many streamers he had hooked onto his fingers, earning a nod from you.

Holding his arm out for you to take, you couldn’t help but wonder why you weren’t feeling as excited as you usually would be if a situation involved Hyunjin. Choosing to ponder over the thought, you followed him over to the backdrop setup.

Sitting on the table where the cake was supposed to be, you’d pre-cut various pieces of tape, pasting them on your arm, holding it out for Hyunjin to access it more easily as he hung up the decorations, your gaze constantly wandering over to the kitchen where you could see Donghyuck whispering something to Mina, earning a giggle from her.

“Does it bother you?”

Your attention was directed towards Hyunjin, making you frown.

“Huh?” You did a once-over of the decorations, shaking your head, “nah, I think what you did was fine. Maybe move that one a little to the left.”

Hyunjin burst into laughter, shocking you at the sudden outburst as he shook his head, speaking as he calmed down.

“No, I was talking about those people in the kitchen,” he told you pointedly, making you look back at the kitchen to realise who he was referring to.

You shrugged, letting out a sigh instead, unsure how to reply Hyunjin.

“I figured. You’d been staring at them ever since we came here.”

You scoffed. “I wasn’t!... okay maybe I was, but it doesn’t mean anything, I swear.”

Hyunjin huffed, “I thought Jisung was a bad liar but... I’d say you’re a lot worse.”

“Maybe it runs in the family,” you sighed.

You’d averted your gaze quickly when you saw Donghyuck exiting the kitchen, making his way over to where you and Hyunjin were, your presence together with him clearly having struck a nerve with him.

“Hey,” he murmured, standing next to where you sat on the table, so close that your legs were touching his hips.

“Careful now, wouldn’t want your girlfriend getting jealous.”

Only then did Donghyuck register your words, not having given it a single thought when he’d approached you, the only thing in his head having been to make sure Hyunjin wasn’t trying to hit on you. Little did he know, you wouldn’t have noticed even if he was, your head preoccupied with thoughts about Donghyuck.

Taking the tiniest of steps away from you, he glanced over in Mina’s direction, seeing her prompt him to carry out what they’d discussed.

“Not much of a girlfriend, if you asked me,” Donghyuck shrugged, making your eyebrows knit in confusion, a small pout appearing on your lips.

“Really? Thought you guys seemed to be getting along pretty well,” you murmured.

Hyunjin was trying his best to eavesdrop, taking particularly long to hang up each streamer.

“That’s kind of the thing...” he began, your conversation interrupted when the doorbell rang, making him halt your conversation to go and answer the door, leaving you hanging.

Hyunjin turned around, a scandalised look on his face.

“What was that!” he whispered harshly.

You handed him the last piece of tape on your arm with a wide-eyed look, shrugging, “beats me.”

You’d seen Donghyuck walking back into the room, with Chenle, Jaemin and Renjun following behind him, before parting ways and walking over to where you and Hyunjin were, Jaemin and Renjun beginning to display the balloons. Or more accurately, Renjun displayed them while Jaemin gave him compliments.

Jaemin stood next to where you sat, leaning on the table, his arms folded in front of him.

“I trust their artistic direction,” he gestured to them, “the last time they did the banners for the school’s valentine’s day fair I ended up with a girlfriend.”

Renjun scoffed, “speaking of which, where are they?”

Jaemin shook his head, “nope, couldn’t make it cause they’ve got some family dinner.”

You nodded in understanding, seeming a little uninvested in the conversation, but Jaemin figured he knew why, being able to sense that you were a little preoccupied with your continuous glances cast towards Donghyuck and Mina’s direction.

“Who knows, maybe their weird art magic will help you get a boyfriend too,” Jaemin nudged you.

This had only caused your frown to deepen when you’d immediately visualised Donghyuck as your boyfriend, shaking your head in dismissal.

Mina had noticed you staring, leaning over to Donghyuck, “I don’t think your plan is working very much.”

Donghyuck sighed, “I know. I’m honestly close to giving up, but I just need a chance to talk to her alone later, I swear I’ll tell her everything then.”

Mina narrowed her eyes at him, “okay. I’ll try to create an opportunity, but you’d better make sure you tell her. I can’t bear seeing her look so sad,” she scolded, mustering a smile before she’d left to talk to the other guests Donghyuck had invited.

Soon enough (thankfully), the decorations were done and Donghyuck had started to play music in the house, bringing out the snacks and food for everyone to eat. You’d taken your seat next to Hyunjin and Jisung since Donghyuck seemed to be a little preoccupied with Mina.

Which, of course, you had to lie to yourself again and say you didn’t mind.

You were thankful for Hyunjin and Jisung’s presence, of course, since it had managed to distract you from being sad over seeing Donghyuck being happy with Mina and taking food for her or how she would brush his hair back for no reason and oh, how much you wished you were Mina.

You were about a hundred percent sure you liked Donghyuck, in the least best-friend way possible.

Somewhere along the way, when people had brought out the drinks and everyone had been lounging and using their phones for a while, you’d heard someone call for everyone to gather so you could play games. You figured you were up for it, since you were never one to refuse board games, so you didn’t mind when Donghyuck had brought out his ‘Jenga’ set.

You decided to play in teams since there were so many of you, and you’d teamed up with Hyunjin since Chenle had teamed up with Jisung, while Jaemin preferred to be the (arguably unnecessary) ‘referee’.

Somehow or another, you were stuck in a difficult position, having to bend your hand awkwardly to get the piece you had chosen out, and in trying to get into a favourable position, you’d somehow ended up having to squeeze yourself between where Donghyuck sat and the coffee table, trying not to let yourself lean against him.

“Don’t choose that one, choose that one,” you’d almost jumped at his hand that had gone next to yours, grabbing your hand and directing it to the piece he was referring to, your breath hitching as he did so.

Your heartbeat was beginning to pick up speed, as you tried your best to do so, unappreciative of the commentary Donghyuck was giving from behind you, even to the extent of leaning over so his head was mere inches away from your ear as he directed you calmly.

It wasn’t as if you were the only one feeling tense, Donghyuck’s gesture had warranted many stares and wide eyes from the people in the circle, making you eager to get this over with.

Unable to take it, you’d barely moved the piece when you raised your hand abruptly, “Hyunjin, you do it. I can’t.”

Donghyuck backed away quickly, raising an eyebrow at you as if he didn’t know why you’d given up, making Mina roll her eyes at Donghyuck, “now that’s just cheating,” she told him.

Hyunjin had taken over for you, and for many more turns afterwards. You were thankful when Jisung had lost since you decided you had enough of this game. Proposing another game, you had hoped they had another board game prepared, since you were sure Donghyuck had more than a few in his storeroom.

Unfortunately for you, they seemed to have other plans, with Mina (you were too distracted by what the game was to pay attention to who said it) proposing a game of ‘Truth or Dare’.

As if you hadn’t been put on the spot enough today already.

The first few questions were simple, typical of the game. Simple questions of this or that whenever people chose truth, everyone seeming too afraid to start choosing dare.

Soon enough, it was Jaemin’s turn to ask a question, humming in thought as he scanned the circle.

“I pick Hyunjin.”

You weren’t paying much attention, glaring at the coffee table after you saw Donghyuck slinging his arm around Mina’s shoulder, letting her rest her head on his chest as if it was second nature to them.

Hyunjin scoffed, “truth,” he answered without missing a beat.

Jaemin stuck his tongue out at Hyunjin teasingly, “If you could date anyone in our school who would it be?”

“Y/N?” Hyunjin answered, earning a glare from Donghyuck (and many low sounds of surprise from the rest).

Donghyuck searched your gaze for a reaction, something stirring in him when he didn’t spot the look that he usually saw you wear whenever you saw Hyunjin. Strangely, this time you looked as though you didn’t care much for his answer.

“Would you ask her out?”

Donghyuck scoffed, standing up abruptly, making everyone’s heads turn to face him, amused at what would have triggered his outburst since he’d been so willingly upholding whatever happy-couple façade he had with Mina.

“This game is boring. Let’s play something else,” he blurted, making you scoff.

What was he doing getting so riled up over a question that wasn’t even for him?

Donghyuck’s outburst had caused the crowd to dissipate, the boys gathering at the sofa to play video games on Donghyuck’s console, everybody seeming to have returned to their state before you started playing games.

Mina nudged Donghyuck, “now’s your chance, go and talk to her. I’ll make sure no one interrupts you guys.”

Donghyuck heaved a heavy sigh, nodding slowly, his confidence from before seeming to have returned as he stood up, making his way over to where you were, laughing at something Hyunjin had said.

“Hey,” you heard Donghyuck’s voice, looking up to spot him standing with his hands shoved in his pockets, his body language a contrast to what he was feeling.

“Hey?” you answered, unsure what he was approaching you so aggressively for, but slightly thankful that you were getting some sort of attention from him today.

“Can we talk? Like..upstairs,” he gestured with his head in the direction of the stairs, making you nod slowly, growing nervous at his sudden request, your thoughts having immediately wandered back to what he’d said just now about Mina, wondering if that was what he’d wanted to talk to you about.

Hyunjin gave you an encouraging nod, wanting you to go up with Donghyuck, prompting you to do so. Letting him lead you upstairs, you reminded yourself repeatedly to keep calm, that this was your close friend you were going to be talking to. Your close friend that had a girlfriend. Your close friend that you really really liked that had a girlfriend.

Entering Donghyuck’s room, he shut the door behind you, walking over to the balcony, and leaning against the railing, shutting his eyes as the breeze grazed his cheeks, finding that he would much prefer your touch on his cheeks.

“So, uh,” you began, “what did you wanna talk to me about?”

“Don’t date Hyunjin.”

You frowned, leaning with your back against the railing so you could look at him, your arms folded across your chest, “what?”

“I don’t think he’d be a good match for you,” Donghyuck shrugged, going completely off course from how he’d initially planned on approaching the topic of his feelings.

Scoffing, you glanced at the orchid flower sitting on his balcony table, rolling your shoulders back before speaking. Friendship, new beginnings, you remembered the florist telling you when you’d asked for what the flower symbolised.

“That’s what you wanted to talk to me up here about?”

“Well, no but—”

“Since when did it matter to you?”

Donghyuck looked down at the small view he had of the neighbourhood, his voice coming out firmly, “it always mattered to me. You just never noticed.”

You weren’t sure what he was getting at. His words were doing nothing to help your feelings for him, if anything, it made you even more confused.

“What if I was going to date Hyunjin? Does that mean you’d tell me I couldn’t?”

“Are you going to date Hyunjin?”

“What does it matter to you if I date him? You’re already with Mina.”

Donghyuck scoffed, “It matters because I don’t like it.”

You groaned in frustration, your hands going up to brush your hair back harshly, “so what? Just because you don’t like Hyunjin means that I have to give him up?”

Donghyuck turned to you, nodding as if it was his legal right to dictate your love life. “Fine, so go downstairs and ask him out, then.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Well, why not?”

“Because I don’t wanna ask him out,” you shot back.

“Then there shouldn’t be a problem with me telling you what I think, right?”

You scoffed, not wanting to let him manipulate you into confessing your feelings for him. Blinded by frustration, you’d let yourself slip, “well if that’s the case then I can say that I don’t like you dating Mina either! Does it mean that you’re gonna break up with her?”

“I will if you want me to.”

You fell silent at that, unsure how to interpret what he’d said.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be, Donghyuck. I’m supposed to support you as your friend, and you’re supposed to support me. You look happy with Mina, so I’m supporting you. Shouldn’t you want me to be happy too?”

Donghyuck narrowed his eyes at you, tipping his head back in frustration before he’d made his way in front of where you stood, his hands going on either side of the railing next to you, caging you on the spot.

“Then can you say for yourself that you’d be happy dating Hyunjin?” You hesitated.

“... No,” you murmured, averting your gaze anywhere except for him.

“Then who would you be happy with? Tell me, and I’ll tell you what I think.”

“I don’t care what you think—”

“Tell me who, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, upset that he was putting you on the spot like this, deciding to look him in the eyes, despite the warmth you felt pricking at your eyes, “you’re being mean.”

“Just tell me,” Donghyuck insisted.

“Okay, fine. It’s you, okay? Are you happy now?” you scoffed, “look, you’re perfectly happy with Mina and as your friend I should respect that—”

“We’re not just friends and you know it.”

Donghyuck groaned in frustration, his grip tightening on the railing as he kept his gaze on you.

Just for a moment, Donghyuck had managed to make you forget about hesitating. The way he was looking at you, it’d almost made you believe that he wasn’t with Mina, that everything else could wait but in this moment, he’d wanted it to just be you and him.

“That doesn’t make sense...” you murmured, though that hadn’t stopped you from staring at his face, trying to get a sensing of just what it was that he wanted from you.

Donghyuck had a few options, to tell you now about the fake relationship and risk you getting mad at him. To stop himself and tell you about how he’d been planning on breaking up with Mina.

But his last option, the most selfish of all, was to just let himself have this moment with you, and deal with the repercussions of it later on.

Donghyuck chose to be selfish.

Leaning closer to you, you’d found yourself looking up as well, his gaze replaced by a more determined, decisive one, as he glanced at your lips, inching closer so your lips were barely touching.

Not being able to handle the tension any longer, you chose to be selfish too.

Apologising to Mina in your head, you’d brought your hands up to cup his face, bringing him closer to you to meet your lips with his, hearing him sigh as he kissed you back.

Donghyuck wasn’t sorry, not at all, especially when he’d removed his hands from the railing to grasp at your waist, his other hand moving from your waist to cup the side of your face, holding you firmly as if he was telling you that he wasn’t going to let go first.

Coming to your senses, you’d stopped yourself just as he tried to deepen the kiss, pulling back breathless with your chest heaving, your hands dropping from his face as if they’d been burned. Donghyuck tore his gaze reluctantly from your lips, soft breaths leaving him as he bit his lip, trying to process what had happened.

You shook your head, instantly feeling horrible that you’d kissed him but the worst part being that you knew you made the choice on your own.

“I’m not supposed to be doing this with you. How could you let me do that, you have a girlfriend!” you gasped, your hands flying up to cover your mouth, staring at him scandalised.

Donghyuck stood dumbfounded, “wait, let me explain. It’ll all make sense.”

You shook your head, pushing his arms off of you as you took a step back from him.

“Settle your shit with Mina before you talk to me. You can’t just assume you can go behind her back like this and that we’ll both be okay with it,” you scoffed.

“That’s not how it works. It’s not the same as saying you love both your mom and your dad. I need you to make a clear decision and not put me through this anymore,” you blurted, your words coming out a mile a minute with how flustered you were.

“I’m sorry, I’m leaving. Happy birthday.”

Donghyuck parted with the feeling of your hands cupping his face, now met with the cold breeze once again.

===

It wasn’t as if you wouldn’t see Donghyuck in school. You did, except he hadn’t made a move to reach out to you first, since he figured you still needed some time to collect your thoughts.

You’d only heard halfway through the week that he’d broken up with Mina (much to Jisung’s relief), though strangely, he didn’t seem very different to you.

Not that your information gathered through furtive glances in his direction during lessons were of any indication.

He’d surprised you on Friday morning, when you’d been freezing in the classroom because your school sweater was still in the wash, looking stupid as the only student that hadn’t brought a worn the sweater.

Only upon returning after a trip to the washroom in between lessons to try to warm up your body with a walk, you’d spotted the presence of a school sweater on your desk, and the lack thereof on Donghyuck, who fiddled with his tie nonchalantly, supporting his head on his arm which was on his desk.

Lifting the sweater, you were about to hang it on your chair, stubbornly not wanting to give him the satisfaction of you putting it on, only to reveal the big scrawl on your notebook that you could only identify as Donghyuck’s handwriting, reading : ‘don’t be stubborn and wear it. You’ll freeze if you don’t’.

Huffing, you’d reluctantly put on the sweater, your fingers grazing lightly over the small student council pin near the collar, not wanting to make it too obvious that the comfort and warmth of the sweater was absolutely needed, simply looking down at your notebook and flipping the page.

You’d stayed behind in school that day to get some work done in the library, not expecting to have spotted Jisung and Chenle there, the group approaching you to greet you.

Chenle’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I’m guessing you and Donghyuck have made up already? God, it was so hard keeping all that fake relationship nonsense he had with Mina a secret from you—” Chenle stopped himself once he saw your expression, instantly regretting opening his mouth.

“I’m sorry, his what?”

Chenle directed his gaze elsewhere, shrugging, nudging Jisung with his foot in his panic, making Jisung shrug, “uh..what? I didn’t hear anything, did you?”

“Where is he now?” you spoke, not sure whether you were happy or angry that the situation turned out this way. All you knew was that you needed to see Donghyuck and give him a piece of your mind.

“He’s uh...he’s in the council room with the dnyl guys.”

You stood up, gathering your things quickly and bidding Jisung and Chenle goodbye, Chenle pulling out his phone to text Donghyuck.

chenle 7:19pm -y/n just found out n shes super mad at you prepare yourself-

Donghyuck had pulled his phone out, not being able to help the giddy feeling in him from arising.

“Why? What’s got you looking so happy?” Renjun asked.

“Y/N found out.”

Renjun frowned, not knowing how Donghyuck could be so happy about his impending scolding, leaning over to Jaemin and Jeno to murmur, “I think he’s lost it.”

You weren’t even sure what you’d wanted to tell him as you were storming towards the council room. I mean, you knew you needed to confront him, yet you couldn’t quite phrase your words in your head, all of them seeming to do no justice to your true thoughts and emotions.

But before you knew it, you were already in front of the council room door, with no prepared speech whatsoever, shoving the door open and glaring at a smiling Donghyuck.

“Lee Donghyuck, we need to talk. Now.”

You’d left the room, waiting impatiently until the doors opened again, Donghyuck walking out calmly, his hands in his pockets like before.

“Hey,” he breathed.

“Hey? Hey? You lie to me about something so big and kiss me to confuse me and now all you can say is hey?” you scoffed, hating the way he was smiling at you because whatever it was, it was making it harder for you to stay mad at him.

Donghyuck didn’t care, he was happy. He didn’t care if you were mad at him, or if you were gonna nag him until your voice went hoarse. He didn’t care about whatever you could possibly throw at him because he was so happy that you were finally telling him truthfully about all the emotions you were feeling.

“You’re wearing my sweater,” he pointed out calmly, as if you hadn’t just showed up to the council room fuming.

You flushed, trying to ignore the way you’d felt somewhat shy under his gaze, choosing to cover it up for the sake of your pride.

“I didn’t come here to play spot the difference, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck let out an amused huff, “I know. Look, I’m sorry I lied to you,” he said, letting out a breathy laugh. “My initial plan was to just make you so jealous that you would crack and admit your feelings for me. But that didn’t seem to be working very well.”

You scoffed, “oh, it worked. It worked very well. I was so jealous I couldn’t even think straight. I should’ve known it was fake, this is so like you.”

“Well then why didn’t you show it?” he pouted.

You gave him a look of disbelief, “because that was how much I liked you! I didn’t want you to feel bad just because you liked someone that wasn’t me. I’ll have you know, I was trying very hard to be supportive.”

He grinned, his hands coming out of his pockets to fold his arms across his chest calmly, scrunching his nose up cutely.

“I know, Jisung told me.”

You rolled your eyes. The anger you were feeling from before dying down, now being overtaken by the giddiness from the thought that this meant that Donghyuck reciprocated your feelings, and there was essentially nothing stopping the both of you from pursuing these feelings.

Donghyuck gave you a soft smile, stepping forward to wrap his arms around you, resting his chin comfortably on your shoulder, “are you still mad?”

“You’re really manipulative, you know that? It’s so hard for me to stay mad at you.” Donghyuck laughed, his hands rubbing your back soothingly, “good.”

“Now...because the last one didn’t end very well, can I have a second try?” Donghyuck pulled away from you, his hands on your shoulders as he leant back to gauge your expression.

“At what?”

“Trust me, close your eyes.”

You frowned at him, but obliged, not being able to hide your smile when you’d felt his hand cup the side of your neck, instantly knowing what he was about to do, feeling the confirmation of his lips press against yours not long after.

Watching from the inside of the room, Jaemin let out a relieved sigh. “Awfully dysfunctional dynamic, but I’m glad it worked out for them.”

Jeno hummed in agreement, “maybe Jaemin was right about your weird art magic, Renjun.”

Jaemin scoffed, “of course I’m right,” he let out a gasp, “wait...but doesn’t that mean we won’t necessarily be needing the club anymore? Since all of us are kind of...you know, taken?”

“I vote we keep the club,” Jeno suggested, earning a low impressed sound from Renjun.

“Thought you were the one that said this club was stupid, huh?”

Jeno shrugged, “guess Harvey was right...about what exactly, I’m not very sure but just...right.”

“Speaking of Harvey, we should probably tell him about this...development.”

Donghyuck pulled away from you, burying his head in your shoulder shyly, “I don’t think this is appropriate to be doing on school grounds.”

“Oh so now you want to be a rule-abiding council member?” Donghyuck huffed, maybe being selfish wasn’t such a bad thing after all, especially when it came to you.

Donghyuck scrunched up his nose, letting out a thoughtful hum, “... on second thought, maybe we should head out of school so we can continue this in peace.”

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aloera · 3 years

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The ask prompt is too long to fit into an ask TT_TT but here's the doc for it docs(.)google(.)com/document/d/1yDI7iFRhOJ8ENv_IwZAo3rDSUqj80EiJROS10RzRbj4/edit

the lengths u are going for this,,, much appreciated you're very sweet!!!

prompts + answers under the cut!!

INTRODUCTION

Name: aloera

AO3 account: aloera

Fandoms you write for: bnha

How many stories have you written so far: 19

FANFICTION PROFILE

What's your favorite fandom to write for? hmm,,, used to do pjo and eah (ever after high) and eah was fun as fuck i will say!!! i think bnha is my fav mostly bc i made the most friends in this fandom :D

What's your favorite character/person to write for? bkg and kirishima!! cannot choose do not make me <3

Fic you'd want to improve? probably what we deserve? i rushed the beginning and the confession is a bit stilted imo

Hardest fic you've written? between lion and men -_- bc there is so much canon compliant stuff i've gotta write out before i get to the divergence and its HARD

Easiest fic you've written? come home to me!!! it happened so easily,,, no second guessing no writers block just vibes <33 was lovely i miss it

What would you say is the most "famous" fic you've ever written? also probably come home to me? its got the most interaction

first line of the first fic you've ever written and published. [not including my 2014 ffnet fics] "The bell rings, class starts, and Katsuki and Midoriya are inexplicably absent." from come home to me

Have you ever done a collab with another writer? yes!!!!! on two separate occasions and its so fucking fun i highly recommend trying it out its the best

Do you beta? if asked but honestly im a shit beta lmao

Do you like joining fic fests/exchanges? depends on what i have going on irl but in general yeah!!

FANFICTION PREFERENCES

Fluff or angst? definitely fluff

"OCs" or "Reader" inserts? reader inserts!! have been going ham on them recently

Blurbs or drabbles? blurbs!!

One thing you love about fanfiction i just. i really love slice of life romance?? and most media doesn't give you that bc its dedicated to plot and action and that's valid!! but fanfiction fills in the gap which is really nice

One thing you don't like about fanfiction most of the stuff i don't like is less about actual fanfiction and more about how people behave about it

What is/are your favorite fandom author/authors? IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! TURN IT UP!!!

bnha: hiuythn, rae_tnub, Moniix, Ata_Lanta, wrunic, chezka, PurplePersnickety, surveycorpsejean, mahadevi, arxaris, deviance, Oceanbreeze7, MikeWritesThings, bonnia, wonhaebunny, dinosuns

voltron: hiuythn, Oceanbreeze7, DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee, arahir, dinosuns,

and honorable mention to loveclouds im not even in the haikyuu fandom i just love their fics So Much

these are just the ones off the top of my head i have so many favourites idc if i'm only supposed 2 have one!! die mad about it!!!

What is your favorite trope? secret relationship + relationship reveal til the day i die babie <3 <3

Least favorite trope? hm,,, probably just like. angst lmao i cannot stand 90% of it

A fanfiction cliché that you can't help but love? coffeeshop aus,,,, so good

Do you have a type when it comes to pairings? the otp where its like. piece of shit + himbo = love. ex. krbk, catradora, jade/beck

Favorite setting/au? hm,,, truly i cannot pick one KGKSJNHKj but i really like college aus!! and modern aus!! and roommate aus!!

Explain the meaning of your favorite line of dialogue you've written as if someone hasn't read it in context. “He doesn’t know,” Katsuki says, softly. “My timer stopped and nothing happened. He’s not mine.”

the line is from what we deserve!! it's a soulmate au where your timer counts down to the moment that you meet your soulmate!! bakugou's timer ends at USJ when he and kirishima attack kurogiri at the same time (impulsive kings <33) but kirishima's timer doesn't end until kamino because that's when he accepts himself as bakugous soulmate!! unfortunately, when bakugous timer has reached 0, he turned to see that kirishima's was still ticking and therefore believes that kirishima isn't his soulmate.

this line just,, idk. it's really sad. bakugou is such an action-driven character? if something doesn't go his way he Makes it go his way. he's got this insanely volatile quirk and he's got impeccable control of it!! but his love for kirishima isn't something that he can change and he's not going to ruin kirishima's chance of finding his own soulmate because he loves him and wants him to be happy. i really wanted to focus on how resigned he is? and how unusual that is for a character like him.

Favorite trope/genre to write? again, secret relationship with relationship reveals <33 fluff in general is my wheelhouse!!!

A trope/genre you haven't written but think would be a fun challenge? idk if this counts?? have been working on some dead dove concepts!! its super different from what i normally write so its a cool challenge

The one trope/concept you'll never touch and why probably cheating/infidelity?? it just looks,,, super difficult to write well and i don't have enough of an interest in it to try it out

Which do you prefer to write: longer or shorter fics? shorter!! low attention span gang <3

Ideal length to read? 5-10k?

Ideal length to write? 4-8k!!

How long was the longest fic you've ever written? control fraek is around 28k i think?

Have you ever written an AU? yeah!! i've done restaurant au's, soulmate au's, pro hero aus, and fantasy aus (general, not the bnha fantasy ending)

What's your favorite AU trope? hm,, probably when two people in authority are in a secret relationship? ceo's/uni professors/etc etc

Have you ever written smut? yeah!! was. difficult tho

What's your comfort genre? (the one you fall on most in writing/reading) fluff,,, hurt/comfort,,, fix-it fics with happy endings <3

If you were to start writing in other fandoms, which would they be? maybe jjk?? the characters are really cool!!!! fr i might go back to my ever after high roots i love the characters and setting so Much its so fun!!! idec if no ones into it anymore!!!!!

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? i've had people say they saw the mention of buff hagakure and recognized it was me so. probably that skdjhnksjd

WRITING STYLE

How would you describe your style? i tend to use shorter sentences and pretty simple words i think? and i gravitate towards lighthearted concepts that allow for ensemble casts and humour!!

Describe your style in three words romcom but fanfic

Favorite words to use when writing? the word reverent!! fuckin love including it!!

Dialogue tags or no dialogue tags? (she said, he said, they said, etc) dialogue tags!!!

Favorite dialogue tag (other than said, if you use them) again idk if this counts but "they said softly" is unmatched

Long sentences vs short vs a mix short <33

What colors would you use to describe your writing? hm,,, depends on the fic i would say?? control fraek is dark green to me?? kinda like a forest at night yk?? scary but there's still life there. sugar cookies is yellow like early morning sunlight, when it rains is yellowy-orange like a caution sign. not gonna list all of them cause theres a lot its just. do u get it? the colours change based on the vibe of the fic.

What song or music genre would you use to describe your writing? think. i am constantly trying to emulate that moment at the end of wasteland baby when hozier goes "im in love/im in love with you."

What kind of metaphors do you rely on? religious metaphors my beloved <33 they're just so pretty!!! i also love comparing stuff to water for some reason?? like that ocean vuong quote thats like "what are you now?/water." it goes hard!!!

What's something you'd say is experimental in your writing at this time? definitely action!! i have,,, no idea how to write it so anything i do is really just me playing around and seeing what works and what doesn't

Do you prefer to write by hand or to type? i've tried both!! personally i prefer typing because it goes way faster but i will say that writing by hand lets me get words down when i'm going through writer's block

What is your preferred place to write (notebook, laptop, cellphone, etc.)? laptop!!

What app/apps do you use to write (word, notepad, etc.)? google docs skjdnkjh its fine on desktop but mobile is,,,,, disgusting

Do you keep a notebook or file/notes page in your phone/device for notes on your writing? ngl i just have everything organized in my drive?? one folder per fandom and then sub folders for ideas+hcs, unfinished wips, and finished fics. multichaps get sub sub folders so i can organize outlines and drafts

Do you listen to music to help you write? yeah!! playlists organized by fic vibe :D

Where do you usually go to write (bedroom, living room, etc.)? mostly in my bedroom??? but moving around to different stops helps too i think!!

How long does it usually take for you to write? again this depends on what i have going on irl, how attached i am to the idea, my mindset at the time, etc!! i am,, the least consistent person skjnhdkjh.

What's your favorite font to use when writing? times new roman my beloved

Other writing habits? sometimes i'll write in the dark?? bad for my eyes but for some reason it gets the words flowing

CONCEPTUALIZATION

How do you conceptualize your ideas? (See specific moments like they're a movie, writing specific lines in your head, don't know until you put the words on paper, etc.) i tend to get inspiration from movies, books, poems, or other fics!!! sometimes one line just makes me go oh,, i want to write something like that,,, and then it helps me create an idea that makes me feel the same way?? i did this with control fraek!!!! i wanted a scenario where bakugou was cold and calculating and i was like hm. to do that he’d have to be focusing on something important. and from there i was able to flesh out the rest of the idea.

Which comes first: the pairing or the plot? with krbk its always always the pairing,, i'll be sitting there like wow <33 i love them <33 what if one of them had amnesia <33 (which, yes, wip!!) otherwise it's usually the plot!! and i slot in characters that i feel make sense

Have you ever used a prompt? yeah!! used a prompt for wlw week 2020 and it was fun as hell

Do you write around the story around a specific scene you want to get to or do you start from a plot idea definitely the first!!!! i almost always write like,,, a super messy scene thats 90% dialogue, keep it in my head, and then write the entire fic around that one moment

Do you find that you include a projection of some part of yourself in the way you write a character? a lot of the time when i write love confessions or love in general i'll have one of the characters think or say that the other person makes their head quiet? and it's because that's what i feel whenever i'm in love?? a quiet mind. i project on characters yeah but i think most of the projection actually goes to the way that i write love

Do you research some of the things you write deeply, partially and kind of wing the rest, or play entirely by ear (in this case, go with whatever base knowledge of the subject you have)? most of the time if i do research it'll be about the setting (ex. the izakaya in to have and to hold) or if i'm having the characters interact with an object that they like. need to know how to use (me, in control fraek: google. hey google. does someone die if they get shot in the foot??? no???? awesome thank u <3)

Have you ever had an idea for a story and forgot about it? lmaoo yeah all the time i'll find like 500-2k words of concepts in my gdocs like i do. not remember this at all

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? probably krbk secret relationship lmao

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out better than expected? yeah!! i fully thought the action in control fraek would be awful but it turned out not bad??? which im happy with

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out worse than you expected? again, what we deserve, i personally think it would have worked out better if i'd paced it slower and drawn out the pining but i. do not feel like going back to fix it so its staying the way that it is. pining is so fucking hard to do AHHHH i get so tired with it!!! im like just date already!!!!

PROCESS

How do you come up with titles? in rare occasions (literally. all my multichaps for some reason) the title comes after writing like .5 words of the first chapter im like YES this is it!!!!! sometimes i write the whole thing and pick out one line that fits (what i did with come home to me) a lot of the time i just. steal from songs or poems that i like

What's your favorite emotion to cause on your readers? i like making people happy!!!! love when people comment saying they're cheered up

What's your favorite emotion to write? lovelovelovelovelovelove

Have you ever cried or felt any emotion while reading something you've written? never cried?? but sometimes i'll rereading my hurt/comfort fics 4. yk. comfort

Do you write in order or whatever comes to you? in order!! unless i have a scene that i Need to write and i'll quickly jot it down so that i don't forget

Usual way you procrastinate while writing? ...doing asks like this, making playlists, discord, watching netflix. what don't i do smh

Do you outline or free write? i am. so shit at outlines. i mostly free write and write lil notes for stuff that i wanna add later

Do you set word goals or scene goals (scenes you want to include)? yes!! like i said i'll write loose notes for scenes that i want to add later!! it gives me something to write towards :D

What do you consider when writing your scenes? what goes into making the atmosphere and mood you want? to set a scene i do two things? the first is like,, the five senses bc that always sets the scene really well and makes it feel Real. i'll visualize stuff in my head like its a movie and write out what i would want to tell the set designer?? if the lights are low, if the space is busy, if it's supposed to exude comfort or not.

for putting forward the character's mood one thing i've found that makes a difference is sentence length!! long sentences are good for making a character seem flustered and nervous or not really in control of their emotions? good for love confessions. short sentences are good for when the character is focused on something or short on time. good for fights!!

What's something you never considered to include in your writing that you can't leave out now? def buff hagakure,,,, once i thought of it i was like. if i don't include this at least once in every single fic how could i look at myself in the mirror!!!!!! how could i face anyone!!!!

How do you start a story? establishing a fact about the character or describing the setting! option a is one single thread of gold, option b is between lion and men

How do you end a story? either by tying it back to the beginning or doing like a funny kind of closing??? option a is sugar cookies, option b is a godless society

How do you get out of writer's block? change something!! move something!! i go from typing to handwriting, moving from my bedroom to my living room, switching wips to work on something else!! i do sprints as well?? give myself like fifteen minutes to write something and sometimes 200 words opens up the way for another 2k. sometimes i'll just delete like 500 words and start fresh

Do you edit? or do you toss your writing out there? i edit!!! i'll go over it myself then send it to one or two betas (bee my beloved <33)

How do you edit? do you use spellcheck, grammar checkers, etc? bee is my grammar checker bc he is So Good with grammar. i use grammarly as well for spellcheck stuff mostly?? sometimes my edit process is just like "am i tired of looking at this!! yes <3" and then i post it

PROGRESS

Do you usually like what you write? yeah!!! i post stuff that makes me happy and that i'm fine with rereading!!! i write stuff for self-indulgence reasons first and foremost and i think my writing reflects that sjhnksj

Have you ever written something you didn't like but posted anyways? nope!! even what we deserve i LIKED even if i see a lot of room 4 improvement!! if i don't like smth it's not getting posted

Do you find yourself rereading your writing often? yeah!! the reason i wrote so much krbk secret relationship is because i loved it but i'd read all that there was so i just,, wrote more,, ngl its kinda nice being in a place where i actually like my writing bc i can write stuff that i want to see and really enjoy it!!

Can you tell us anything about your current WIP? sure!! i'm currently working on when it rains which is a fic where bakugou gets hit by a crying quirk!! i'm gonna be using it to explore So Much of all might's character and his relationships with bakugou and aizawa (and i think some people from his past!!)

Can you give us a sneak peek on your current WIP? “You did something. What the hell did you do?” Kirishima sounds pissed off. It would amuse Katsuki if he wasn’t fighting just to stay standing.

“Nothing he didn’t ask for,” Shinsou replies.

“K’ri… shima,” Katsuki croaks out. “‘S fine. Not him.”

His chest collapses back into the familiar dry heaving after that but Kirishima shuts up. He doesn’t apologize to Shinsou.

Kirishima’s a good friend, stubborn and loyal. He stands by Katsuki’s side like an attack dog, blocking him from the view of anyone ogling at his tears.

The last line you've written Ochako knows more than she'd realized. She knows enough to keep her guard up.

It’s not enough.

Open a wip. what’s the first line?

Katsuki wakes up feeling like absolute fucking shit.

INSIGHT

What's your favorite thing about writing? touched on this before but it's mainly just being able to write the things that i want to see and actually enjoy them!!! actually reread them!!!! i thought "wouldn't it be cool if bkg and kirishima owned a restaurant together" and then i wrote it and i like it enough to reread it!!!! being able to create content for myself makes me. so happy

How do you keep yourself inspired? this is gonna sound narcissistic maybe but honestly i'm just really excited about my ideas and where i'm gonna take them and the idea of "i'm gonna get to That scene" keeps me going through the entire thing. also my friends!!!! i'll talk to them about fics and their reactions keep me hyped up enough to finish!!!!

What is your favorite thing to write? just,, slice of life romance,,, stuff thats silly and makes people laugh!!

What do you think your strengths are in writing? i'm good with dialogue!! i do lil voice acting sessions with myself to make sure everything sounds natural and like it's coming from that character skhjnskj

i'm comfortable with my portrayal of love as well??? i spend a lot of time thinking about what it is exactly that i'm trying to get across and i think it turns out well!!

What are things you wish you could practice more? on one hand i wanna get better at writing angst on the other hand i dislike writing angst. do you see my issue

One way you've improved your writing since you began? characterization!! i think i've gotten better at writing characters that are all Different and bring different things to the table!!! i used to project a lot more and it would compromise the characterization because the character was like 70% me and 30% them? not to say that projection is bad but if you do it too much it just,, doesn't read like the character and from a reader's standpoint the narrative can become less compelling

One aspect of writing you're still working on? writing action!!! i. literally hate writing it but i write for a fandom about superheroes so. Unfortunately i gotta learn.

A piece of writing advice you've learned while writing saw this on another tumblr post but they said sometimes if you're struggling with a scene, the problem is five lines back. i've found that to be true!!!! sometimes u gotta delete a chunk and start a little ways back!! i did this with too busy being yours because i was stuck for Weeks and i deleted like 25% of what i had but it helped me actually finish it :D

A bit of writing advice you can't stand when people shit on show don't tell for being overrated lmao bc when u read their writing you can Tell

Something you wish you knew when you first started writing? ,,,,honestly i kind of wish i could know some of the stuff that i used to when i first started writing?? technically i'm better now but creatively i was must better when i wasn't stressing about whether anyone would like what i was writing. so i guess i wish i knew that i should keep that confidence? i kinda wish that i wasn't as insecure about other people's writing styles because i never used to be!!

Something you've learned in life that you apply in writing there's no point in feeling inferior?? writing one genre isn't better than the other. being in one fandom isn't better than being in another. the kind of language you use or the length of your paragraphs- none of that stuff like. matters. what matters is that you're having fun and happy with what you're creating!!!! enjoy other peoples writing but don't let it make you feel worse about yours :D

#AHH ive wanted to answer these for so long...... bro fr i was so happy when u sent these!!! like wow!! finally got sent one!!!#sorry for how long the responses are idk how to be concise #asks #anon #a(lore)a

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