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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 3 years

Note

Idk if you do one shots inspired in songs, but if so, Would you mind doing one with a Taylor Swift's song which is called "The 1"? With Mason Mount please

< i love taylor so much and i really hope i didn’t completely butcher this, but thanks for the challenge :) >

MASON MOUNT ONESHOT

the 1

( WARNING: little bit of angst and fluff?, swearing )

word count: 1.8k

Things don’t often go as we expect them to, and it’s often incredibly difficult to replan your life around that massive change and adapt your lifestyle so you can — in reality — live again.

It’s like trying to find your feet when you’re in the air — it feels impossible but you know with time you’ll eventually meet the ground again.

That’s what it felt like when you and Mason broke up four years ago.

You were fresh out of uni and at the time, you really thought he’d be it for you, and honestly, so did he. A break up thrown into the mix of having to navigate adult life just seemed to put a huge stopper on all your plans; the holiday you two had both booked for a weekend away in Ireland, the meals out with friends that you had to cancel, and the house showings you were set to attend.

Looking back on your relationship now, you realise it wouldn’t have been the worst thing to end up with Mason. All the years and effort and time put into loving him were — without a doubt — some of the best years of your life (at that stage in life), and did you regret it?

Not one single bit.

But four years is the perfect amount of time to heal, remove the salt from the wound and finish grieving.

But he was here. In real life.

You’d imagined running into him in the supermarket or on a night out with your friends, but a bus stop?

That one was weird. Mainly because you both hated catching the bus with a burning passion.

But it lead to a catch up over coffee.

It was a quiet place, out of the way of the usual lunchtime hustle and bustle in the city, and for that you were grateful. You could hear your own thoughts.

It was awkward at first, you couldn’t keep your eyes from fixating on his figure, his features, because four years can really change a person. He was much broader, his hair a little shorter, but he was still that same Mason you once loved.

You knew that because the first thing he did when he sat down was offer you that cheeky, charming smile that had you hooked from the second you met.

He’d asked how you were, and you answered honestly: you were living well, your best life, and to the fullest. And you knew and he knew that it wasn’t a lie.

He could tell by the smile on your face and the new, sparkling band on your wedding finger. He half expected that blow to sting a little — that you’d found someone and he hadn’t, but he was never one to be bitter whatsoever, at least, not when it came to you.

Instead, he offered his congratulations and the only inkling of regret he held was not being there when it happened.

I guess you never know, never know,

And if you wanted me, you really should’ve showed,

And if you never bleed, you’re never gonna grow,

And it’s alright now.

There was silence after that.

You had one thing on your mind, and you knew by the way he was looking at you that he was also thinking the same thing.

You took a sip of your coffee.

He mirrored your actions, seemingly startled when you placed your mug onto your saucer, the chink of porcelain against porcelain echoing around the small shop cutting through the previous quietness.

“I think I hated you for a while.” You murmured, and if Mason wasn’t leant over the table slightly, he would’ve missed the statement completely.

He nodded in understanding, his brown eyes shining with the faintest hint of guilt.

“I think I was so frustrated with the idea that we just…didn’t work, and I blamed it on you.” You paused, fingers twisting your rings.

He paused, mulling over his words, “And now? Still hate me now?”

You bit back a small smile and met his eyes, “No…I think it’d take a whole load of bad shit to get me to hate you.”

He smiled.

“That’s good to know.”

“I mean, I think it was a long time coming anyway, that break up.”

“It didn’t feel right for a while.”

“No,” you agreed, “as much as it hurt to admit, I think we just failed…as a couple. There was a point where we were just together for the sake of not giving up on the relationship, but with no real reason to continue.”

But we were something, don't you think so?

Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool,

And if my wishes came true,

It would've been you,

In my defense, I have none,

For never leaving well enough alone,

But it would've been fun,

If you would've been the one.

He seemed to ponder over your words, and although he never voiced it, he came to the conclusion that you’d just put into words — perfectly — the itch that had been tickling his brain for the past few years.

“Despite that, you can’t deny that we weren’t something…” he started, before breaking off and shaking his head, as if the mere thought was ridiculous.

“We were something special. I think, had things stayed like they were in the beginning, that…you and I…” you waved your hand, tilting your head, and he nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Me too. I think…in another life we could have made each other happy. It would have been fun.”

The words ‘if you would’ve been the one’ echoed in your head, and despite the passive aggressiveness of your conscience, you found yourself holding back a smile.

“Water fights in winter and eggs with ketchup…perfect. I’d never have gotten tired of that.” You mused, and he spluttered slightly on his coffee, laughing along with you in what felt like a decade.

I have this dream you're doing cool shit,

Having adventures on your own,

You meet some woman on the internet and take her home,

We never painted by the numbers, baby,

But we were making it count,

You know the greatest loves of all time are over now.

“Then again, who knows? Maybe you’ll fall over in the airport and some lucky person will help you off the floor—”

“You’re about to say something cheesy, aren’t you?” Mason covered his mouth, scrunching his nose in anticipation as you nodded.

“All this nostalgic bullshit has me emotional! I swear, just this once…just this once, and I promise you can laugh about it afterwards.” You swore, holding out your pinkie for confirmation.

He didn’t hesitate, and linked your pinkie.

“You’ll find someone else. It’ll be love at first sight—hey, let me have this moment…maybe love at second sight, knowing you… you’ll go to some really magical place and have the most amount of fun you’re ever gonna have…hikes, skydiving, looking after animals I’m sanctuaries…you’re gonna have the time of your life — like Grey and Swayze.” You sniggered, unable to hold in your laughs at the ridiculous scenarios.

Mason pulled a face, unable to hide a smile.

“Okay, okay. End of story: they’ll be perfect. The Chandler to your Monica or the Robin to your Ted. But, you understand what I’m talking about, right?” You asked, sighing out of frustration.

“You’re saying I’ll find my person.” He concluded, sitting back in his chair.

“Yeah.”

We were something, don't you think so?

Rosé flowing with your chosen family,

And it would've been sweet,

If it could've been me,

In my defense, I have none,

For digging up the grave another time,

But it would've been fun,

If you would've been the one.

“Like…your grandma and grandad. I want what they have.” Mason smiled.

“They’ll be pleased to hear that,” you said, “I don’t think they’re quite over us yet. You were too…you at family meals. They fell in love with you too.”

This time Mason really laughed. Really laughed. He threw his head back and the people working at the counter turned to look at him, fighting their own smiles at his carefree nature.

What you’d said wasn’t even that funny.

“Too me? Thanks, I think?”

“Oh, that’s definitely a compliment. You’re too damn charming for your own good, it’s a problem. You should come with a warning label on your forehead: EASY TO LOVE.”

“That’ll solve a lot of problems.”

There was silence.

It was relieving to say the least.

“That whole conversation was about four years too late.” You said, pursing your lips.

“Better late than never.” Mason murmured, his eyes trained on you.

The pressure on your shoulders was lifted. All the things that needed to be said were said.

As time passes, the wound heals — sometimes, but in your case, that was true, as hard as it was to come to that conclusion — and it suddenly became easier to recall the loss of what might have been without bringing you back to wishing it would be again.

It was nice.

“Would it be totally inappropriate—”

“Not at all.” You interrupted, shrugging at his raised eyebrows.

“You didn’t know what I was going to say.” He chuckled.

“I’ll have you know that years of knowing you granted me the issue of knowing what you’re going to say,” You said, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.

“What was I going to say?” He challenged, “If you get it right, I’ll get you tickets to the next game.”

You raised your brows.

“Confident, are we?”

He shrugged, a smug smirk on his lips.

“I don’t think it’s totally inappropriate to be friends.” At your words, he slumped in his chair, hands going to cover his face.

“No.” He groaned, repeating the word like a mantra as you pumped the air with your fist.

“Three tickets to the next game in the bag.” You bragged.

“Honestly.” He whined, peeling his hands away. “Why are you so difficult?”

“You offered the terms.”

“Why am I so dumb?” He rephrased.

“Ah, I'm afraid only you can answer that one.”

“The brain cells I have left don’t have enough energy to come up with an answer to a question as philosophical as that one—yes, it was philosophical to me, okay?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” You promised, putting your hands in the air in surrender.

“Just remember who’s going to give you those tickets, yeah?” He teased, sitting up.

“Abusing your power, nice move.”

“Oh…shut up.”

“Weak.” You coughed, trying to disguise the fact you said anything.

He looked straight at you, highly unimpressed by your tactics.

“Very original.” Was all he said.

“Is it supposed to be this easy?” You blurted out, spitting out the words before you could rethink the consequences of them being thrown into the abyss between you and Mason.

He knitted his brows together in thought.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “but we were friends way before, it’s not hard to fall back into old habits. I think that’s why it’s so easy.”

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curioussubjects · 3 years

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I feel bad discussing spn now that’s over but I’ve been wondering. Do you think dean actually meant it when he said “why does that something always seem to be you” (15.03)? Usually people blurt out what’s on their mind all of a sudden even if they didn’t mean to say it out loud. But it comes out because the person either thinks about it or actually believes it. Do you think at one point Dean truly blamed Cas for Mary? I mean, putting 15.09 aside of course.

Why do you feel bad discussing SPN now the show’s over, anon?? Don’t feel bad!

The short answer to your question, in my view, is that Dean was lashing out because of how his unaddressed trauma over Cas dying (cf. 7x01, purgatory, 12x23) gets entangled with him processing his grief over Mary and Jack. Everything is further exacerbated by Chuck’s villain reveal, and the events that lead to Rowena’s “death.” The longer answer to this question starts with acknowledging that feelings and trauma are complicated things that aren't always rational. And that's the crux of the matter for Dean in that moment he lashes out at Cas: he's not behaving rationally. We know Dean is angry, and historically doesn't handle anger well at all, but we also know, even without 15x09, that what Dean is really feeling is fear. In that moment, Dean is angry, and he's scared. If you watch the scene closely, too, you'll notice that Dean is still present enough to regret saying "why does that something always seem to be you" to Cas. He tenses up, he looks down and only looks up again in stubbornness defiance when Cas says he can't even look at him. Then Cas leaves, which has always been an issue for Dean. However warranted Cas's decision to leave was, it still hits Dean as rejection, too. All this is to say that the break up scene is extremely fraught, and Dean is the type of person who needs time to process events and emotions, and time to process is something he hasn't had since Mary disappeared.

So you ask: ok, cool, but what does all of that have to do with Cas dying, Liv? And here's where I say they have everything to do with Cas dying. I've talked about this before in tags and in other posts that I can't think of right now, but there are common occurrences in the events that have led to the more traumatic Cas deaths. If we think of Cas dying in 07x01, the context for that is as follows: Cas needs to solve a problem, he wants to ask Dean for help, but the desire to not burden him with it is greater, so Cas ends up handling the problem solo, which leads to disaster and also him dying. Or, well, apparently dying. But as far as Dean was concerned, Cas was dead, and he did struggle with it a lot during season 7. Now, fast-forward to s12 and the context of how Cas ends up dead then: Cas needs to solve a problem, part of him does want to cooperate with Sam and Dean to solve it, but he ultimately decides his desire to bring Dean a win, and to shield him and Sam from actions they'd suffer from are greater. Predictably, Cas ends up handling the problem solo, which leads to complications, and him being killed by Lucifer. Cas's death in 12x23 is significantly more traumatic to Dean than the one in 07x01 as season 13 starts with a grief arc that is devoted to Dean's suffering over Cas -- to the point that suffering overshadows even his grief over Mary. Granted, these are somewhat reductive summaries of the events of seasons 7 and 12, but the fact remains that those two deaths were remarkably similar as well as traumatic.

If you look at trauma theory in regards to literary analysis, you'll notice that a key element is repetition. The story of trauma is a story of echoes, which is partly why triggers are what they are for people who have PTSD. In particular, a situation doesn't need to be an exact replica in order to evoke a traumatic memory. A situation need only be similar enough to the traumatic event to cause a trauma response. Therefore, if we keep in mind that the events leading to 15x03 aren’t exact mirrors of 07x01 or 12x23, but too reminiscent for comfort, then Dean’s behavior toward Cas starts making a bit more sense -- not excused, but understandable. A quick summary of these similarities goes as follows: Cas notices there’s is something off with Jack because of his soul; he decides to investigate on his own to avoid worrying the Winchesters and also because of his own fear of losing his family. He only comes forward with what is happening after something potentially disastrous has happened (Mary’s death). Later, Cas deviates from the agreed plan to close the wound leading to hell, which leads to another disastrous consequence (Rowena’s death). What does this look like? Cas makes a decision to act on his own, and doesn’t tell Dean (or Sam) about it, something goes wrong, someone dies. Notably, here, moreover, is that Cas obviously doesn’t die, but he has paralleled Mary before (when he was dead in s13) and there’s an argument to be made that he would eventually parallel Rowena (with heaven), but that’s from a metanarrative perspective rather than Dean’s, and I digress.

Oh, It’s worth noting, too, that the way in which the arc starting with 14x18 and culminating in 15x03 presents a similar, but not quite, chain of events as those of previous seasons signals the intentionality of the trauma narrative.

But anyway, as we were: the resonance between the traumatic and triggering events, with the latter being traumatic in their own way, make Dean response in a way that is unfair for the situation at hand, but betray a deeper truth about Dean’s state of mind. Backtracking a little from 15x03, the first instance of Dean lashing out at Cas happens in 14x18 with the (heartbreaking) line: “Then you're dead to me.” At face value, those words are a condemnation of Cas and indicate a complete breakdown of the relationship, hinging on Jack having hurt/killed Mary. There is, however, another angle there, pain simmering beneath the surface, which makes more sense in its direction to Cas: the last time Jack, Mary, and Cas were involved in a tableaux like this, Cas died and Mary was gone. In what is an inversion of events, Mary is dead and Cas is...there, but as an echo of Jack’s birth, to say Cas is dead is a statement of fact: he did die, then. And as he was a parallel to Mary in the aftermath of Jack’s birth (and the rehashing of the John, Dean, Sam drama through Dean, Sam, and Jack), so is he a parallel to Mary here, except in circumstance. Both Mary and Cas had been after Jack. Mary happened to find him first, but Cas could’ve easily been the one to find him. Easily been the one who died. See the issue? This is obviously not to say that Dean’s grief and rage weren’t about Mary herself, but that the situations are entangled and murky.

Further entanglement and murkiness happen when Cas is forced to change the plan to seal the hell wound in 15x03. We all know, including Dean, that there was nothing Cas could’ve done instead of what he did. But besides the change of plans, there’s an undercurrent of anxiety of the wound closing before Cas makes it out. He does, of course, but that’s the what if, always. And to illustrate the possibility, Rowena sacrifices herself to close the wound. It’s not coincidence that the similarities here are tenuous considering the stress burden from everything that has happened since 14x18 has continued to grow with no respite.

The stage is set then for the confrontation that leads to Cas walking out of the bunker. Dean is clearly on edge, and Cas is in a particularly vulnerable and hopeless headspace:

CASTIEL: Sorry about Rowena. DEAN: You're sorry? Why didn't you just stick to the damn plan? CASTIEL: Belphegor was lying. DEAN: Belphegor's a demon. CASTIEL: He was using us. He wanted to eat every last soul to take over Hell, Earth, and every... DEAN: Yeah, and we would've figured it out... after. With Rowena. CASTIEL: The plan changed, Dean. Something went wrong. You know this. Something always goes wrong. DEAN: Yeah, why does that something always seem to be you?

The reason I went of this long journey to come back to this is so as to make clear that what Dean is talking about here isn’t about Rowena at all, and it’s not about Mary either. We know Dean didn’t really blame Cas for Mary, and that he didn’t blame him for Rowena, either. But do those bolded parts sound familiar?

CASTIEL: Listen. Raphael will kill us all. He'll turn the world into a graveyard. I had no choice.

DEAN: No, you had a choice. You just made the wrong one.

CASTIEL: You don't understand. It's complicated.

DEAN: No, actually, it's not, and you know that. Why else would you keep this whole thing a secret, huh, unless you knew that it was wrong? When crap like this comes around, we deal with it... Like we always have. What we don't do is we don't go out and make another deal with the Devil!

CASTIEL: It sounds so simple when you say it like that. Where were you when I needed to hear it?

DEAN: I was there. Where were you?

DEAN: You should've come to us for help, Cas.

How about:

DEAN: Cas, you can't – With everything that's going on, you can't just go dark like that. We didn't know what happened to you. We were worried. That's not okay. CASTIEL: Well, I didn't mean to add to your distress. I – Dean, I just keep failing. Again and again. When you were taken, I searched for months and I couldn't find you. And then Kelly escaped on my watch, and I couldn't find her. And I just wanted I needed to come back here with a win for you. For myself.

[...]

DEAN : We will find a better way. CASTIEL: You mean, we? DEAN : Yes, dumbass. We. You, me, and Sam, we're just better together. So now that you're back, let's go, Team Free Will. Let's get it done. CASTIEL: I'd like that. DEAN: Great.

“Then, you’re dead to me.” “...why does that something always seem to be you”

Because it’s Cas, and Cas being dead and gone. The tragedy of the divorce arc is that Cas ends up gone, too. However, this time, it’s Dean’s fault for not stopping him. Here, Dean’s fear of Cas dying leads to the anger that ultimately pushes him away. So, yeah, Dean meant what he said, but not in the way Cas took it. Not in the way it appeared as.

The other tragedy of Supernatural ending as it did is that Dean never got to heal from that trauma, he never got to confront Cas for it, either. Make no mistake, the empty deal is another spiral of Dean’s unaddressed trauma over Cas dying. The beats are the same, and the result is Cas, gone, and Dean, shattered. Sadly, we never got our final resolution, the climatic reunion that would mirror Dean’s prayer in purgatory and Cas’s confession in the dungeon. It’s a story left unfinished.

#destiel #dean winchester #deancas #supernatural #spn #spn meta #questions and answers #my writing #i keep saying the remaining huge piece of unaddressed trauma from dean is cas's death #remember that thing i keep repeating about dean's unaddressed trauma re: cas?#as you can see i do yell about this a whole lot #this thing got SO LONG ANON IM SORRY #ksjdhfkasjhfklasd #hopefully it's helpful?

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sketch--booked · 3 years

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I wanna complain about how the ninja treated Zane in the first few episodes real quick. Specifically in Home. Since I have some beef with the ninja.

So remember that one time Zane froze the entire monastery without effort? Yeah, that was kinda cool,

Now I begin to get angry, You’ve been warned--

And the ninja, understandably, were upset and I can get that.

But then you see how they all kinda just--- treated him really badly all the time. I get it,, he’s got weird traits and does very “Zane” things (being unfazed to be in the bathroom with somebody, legitimately not understanding comedy and laughing at odd things, at least Nya and Jay weren’t watching a horror or slasher movie, and his famous sitting-in-the-fridge scene) but like--

They really gonna do this??

Laugh at the guy for what he wears and throw around the food he made for them? Even Wu, may I add.

Can I also call attention to Jay, who throws something at Zane.

AND LOOK AT HIM--

That is not a face of comfort? By any means?? Zane shows a very little range of emotion, in the early seasons especially. But when Jay throws his own food at him, he frowns. THAT’S EMOTION,, HE’S NOT HAPPY,,, THIS ISN’T A JOKE NOR IS IT FUNNY TO HIM.

And they just--Don’t even do a double-take.

I’m bewildered at just how horribly they treat him, in this scene specifically. Not one of them, NOT EVEN WU, takes a second to think about how Zane might feel in this moment??? IN FACT, If you listen carefully, you can hear Nya and Jay belittling him.

“He looks so cute in his apron!” and “Look at his face!”

THEY ACKNOWLEDGE THEY’RE BEING CRUEL LIKE WTF THIS MAKES ME SO MAD--I HOPE THEY WENT TO BED STARVING.

So after this god awful display of friendship that makes me want to slap all the other ninja, we get the infamous Falcon scene.

Zane has his general neutral kinda-angy-lookin’ expression. So we can’t really tell what he’s feeling in this moment, but it’s his actions that follow that say everything.

He sees the falcon and is intrigued by it and actually smiles. Which is good! That’s emotion! Well done, Zane, you’re learning!

NOW IT’S THIS BIT---IS WHERE I GET REAL JUST---HHHHHMMM It’s in this moment, I wonder if Zane knows what a toxic friendship isghghgh I jest--

Zane is smiling when he sees the falcon fly off. He likes the bird but he lets it leave.

But then---

Zane takes one brief look back to the sound of his friends and without a second doubt he BOOKS IT--

So from initially seeing this, you get the instant feeling that he would prefer to follow a mysterious bird into possible danger, than go back to his friends who are still laughing in the distance. He obviously was going to return back to them, they tease his lack of returning later in the episode WHICH I HOPE TO GET TO. But that does say enough about his actual feelings towards the rest.

Strange, possibly evil bird---or my friends who’re probably going to continue to laugh at me.

It’s a nobrainer that he’d follow the bird??

He’s not truly upset at them, I don’t even think that Zane has the capability to really be angry ngl,, but he still chose the bird over his “family” and that’s what makes me so angry at the ninja.

And to those who say “He’s not upset at the ninja, he’s just curious and the fact that he essentially ran away from them, doesn’t mean he dislikes them” I say,,, That is fair. And I will, for the sake of not looking like a dick, argue for that.

It’s clear that Zane likes to know stuff. In the beginning, he’s been the smart one. Even in this episode Kai says “We like the guy, he’s really smart..” then complains about him being weird. And later down the line he’s shown an interest in learning, being the only one in season 11 to actually read about the desert of doom and the Mechanic himself saying he’s an inquisitive nindroid in season 12.

So it’s understandable if Zane was simply sating his curiosity. But how can you tell me that the previous event was not a deciding factor in choosing the bird instead..

I would now like to jump forward to when the ninja are at Lloyd’s tree-house (Can I point out that the first place the falcon took zane, was a tree-house. And the last was a tree house?? Anybody? okay just me--).

And when they ask him how he found it; he tells them it’s because it danced. Jay then jokingly asks if it was a coo-coo bird, promoting everyone to--

IF YOU GUESSED “laugh at him” YOU’D BE CORRECT, HOW DID YOU GUESS???

When he does his info dump thing they don’t even bother, they just shrug in unison--which ngl I do find funny ghghgh

Now that’s where you’d think the Zane bullying stops right?

NOPE,, TIME TO BURN DOWN THE MONASTERY (this is a cool shot btw)

This is a good shot too, because it sets up that Zane will be a focus, and you can already assume it’s because, in some essence, this is Zane’s fault.

But then they go all out on him. They straight up tell him this was his fault, that he shouldn’t have followed the bird, he shouldn’t have been curious or try to help, that everything they had here is gone, and yell at him to his face “A teaching moment? What’s wrong with you? Don’t you get it? Everything is gone!” and it’s because of him.

In this moment they are taking out every frustration they had with him. They’re taking out every moment he’s gone into his own world and making their lives harder and that their home is gone because of him.

This is one of the very first, and very few times all the ninja have pitted against just one of their team. And it hurts. Because Zane’s reaction to this, his response to being treated horribly, having his food thrown at him like he didn’t spend likely hours making and planing it, like he doesn’t do the chores they probably wont do (taking out the rubbish earlier in the episode), is to go back to them like he wasn’t hurt by this at all.

And y’know what could’ve solved this entire thing? What could’ve prevented the exclusion and the explosion that is their friendship. Communication. On both sides, neither of them communicated with each other. The ninja didn’t openly express their feelings towards Zane TO Zane, only Wu and probably Nya. And Zane never expressed anything, ever, like--literally nothing. His moment of most emotion is in episode 7 dammit.

And I just--This is an issue that’s followed through even to the new seasons. Honest to god some of the only times I can recall him actually expressing how he feels about something, is with Pixal, and when Kai persuades him to break his morals and cheat in the slug race. God please help me find more examples because I cannot remember anything else (I’m ignoring Decoded for the time being since the last episode of that was almost entirely “Zane therapy time”)

Imma end it here because my rant juices have stopped flowing and I haven’t slept in many many long hours and I really would like to collapse right about now.

So i’m not saying Zane has it worst, he probably doesn’t,, but what I’m saying is that Zane had a tough time in the beginning especially. After Kai became properly a part of the group, it was Zane that they outcasted. And because they wouldn’t actually talk to him about what they all thought. They didn’t take the time to understand him and only realized they missed him and how badly they’d been treating him when he was gone.

In the start, they were bad friends, they were horrible in fact. Zane tried, or didn’t. Where he didn’t understand people or social cues, he understood being kind and doing the right thing.

The ninja did however work from this. As of this episode, they tone down the mistreatment and make a bigger effort to get the guy. And it’s all explained and finished in episode 7.

Overall, I really like this episode! I think the characters were great! I think the humor was great! I think the progression was great! I dunno why some o’ yall think I don’t like something because I hate it. I can hate-love something, and you’ll find there are a lot of things I hate-love in ninjago.

#this got real long real fast--#ngl this was just going to be me remembering the icy training area #but then i got distracted by how they treated him #and then it turned into a rant #probably a stupid--likely biased--rant but whatever-I haven't slept well in days i'm tired dammit #ninjago zane #ninjago #sketch rants about something #that's what i'm calling it now #can you see now why zane is my favorite? i like unpicking his character #he's fun

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angelicmichael · 3 years

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Imminient Annihilation sounds so dope, chapter nine.

Michael Langdon x reader

Summary: Reader and Michael finally learn how to communicate and decide to start being mostly civil and learn how to tolerate eachother.

Words: 5.6k+

Warnings: Mentions of bruises and falling, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, reader and Michael are both pretty mean in the first half of this part LOL, some Millory flirting <3, extreme enemies to lovers, extreme slow burn, reader is going through inner torment like always LOL, lots of cussing, witch! reader

A/N: First of all - i just wanna say I'm so sorry for not updating this in like 5 months LMAO. That's why I decided to make this chapter a bit long 😌. Still no romance but, reader and Michael are finally starting to warm up to eachother so hopefully yall like this chapter :)

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Dull, aching pain was what welcomed you when you woke up. It started off subtle; faint enough to ignore until you started to stir in your bed.. wrong fucking move.

Your entire body was throbbing. Saying that you felt like complete shit was definitely an understatement at this point.. You almost wanted to think perhaps this could be a result of partying last night but then again.. this pain was different. You knew for sure this was not a result of being hungover.

You winced as you pushed back the covers and stood up, wandering over to the closest mirror as you pushed up your shirt - wanting to examine your ribs - where the pain seemed to ache the most. Your skin on the left side of your ribs had turned into a ugly, mixed palette of blues and purples. Turning around only proved that the bruises had traveled to your back as well. You couldn’t help but wince at the sight and let out a painful moan when you traced your fingers across your skin - feeling the bruises. What the fuck happened last night??

You let your shirt fall back down as you stood - puzzled and thinking about the previous nights events.. and.. oh fuck..

You swallowed as you conjured up the memories from last night in your mind; you remembered Mallory.. going to the party.. drinking.. Michael.. going back to his apartment.. talking.. falling.. and then nothing.

What the fuck happened?!

You roughly swallowed, your eyebrows furrowed together as you turned around looked at your surroundings - something you should’ve done sooner. You felt a wave of Deja vu wash over you; as well as a wave of fear. Being in a room with no recollection of how you got there was hauntingly familiar. Too familiar for your liking. However, you knew you were you.. looking again in the mirror reassured you of that but.. that didn’t solve the issue of how you got from Michaels penthouse to.. wherever you were now.

You stared at the room; puzzled. You were trying to put your finger on why the room looked so familiar; and then it clicked. The hotel room you were currently in wasn’t a penthouse but it still looked similar and resembled Michaels hotel room that you were in last night. Which could only mean you were staying in the same hotel.

Your heart stopped when you came to the realization that Michael must've got you this hotel room. That's the only way any of this made sense. You wanted to think for a split second it could’ve been Mallory who came to your rescue but, that didn’t make sense because you knew she wouldn’t have left you alone in the morning. It had to be Michael.

The gesture almost would’ve been cute under normal circumstances.

The room looked practically untouched besides the bed you had just climbed out of. Your phone resided on the night stand, and as you quickly went through your phone - nothing seemed tampered with. Thank god.

Although, there was a message from someone in particular that you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at. Of course he messaged you. You quickly opened up the message fully, reading through it rather quickly.

‘How are you feeling?'

You bit your lip as you crafted up a soulless response. At least he had enough of a heart to check in on you. I mean it was the very least he owed you at this point.

‘Oh I’m doing just peachy keen. How the fuck do you think I’m doing with bruises everywhere?? Did I get a concussion last night?’

You sent the message without thinking twice. You felt your face getting hot and your heart beating faster. You grinded your teeth; the fact you could feel yourself getting angry and agitated so early in the morning was beyond aggravating.

You paced around the hotel room, phone still in hand. You compulsively checked your phone nearly every second as you paced until you finally saw the notification you were waiting for.

'if we're going to keep talking about last night then it needs to be done in person. How about meeting me at the café across the street, asap. And bring Mallory. I'm not interested in talking to you alone.'

“Motherfucker," you muttered with a quick roll of your eyes.

Of course Michael wanted to meet immediately; it was foolish to expect anything less of him at this point, honestly. Luckily getting ready would be a rather quick ordeal since the only belongings you had were on you. You quickly paced to the mirror and attempted to make yourself look presentable before grabbing your phone and hastily running out the door before dialing Mallory's number.

Thankfully getting Mallory to agree to witness whatever torture Michael had planned for you wasnt hard; Although the pair of you were still confused on why Mallory's presence was required in the first place. But atleast you knew Michael was feeling better if he was still acting in character, being unpredictable as ever.

The café wasn’t hard to find; and neither was Michael. He sat at a small wooden table that was meant for four. A dim light hung from the ceiling above the table.

You grew increasingly more nervous as you approached the table. What could Michael even want to say to you that was so important that it had to be said in person? With Mallory?

A pit resided in your stomach - a feeling that something bad was about to happen stayed present within you even as you and Mallory sat down next to eachother. You offered to sit directly across from Michael, so that you could spare Mallory from having to deal with his crippling stare - but of fucking course, Michael chimed in and demanded that Mallory sat directly across from him.. and Mallory being the way she is obliged naturally. It made the pit in your stomach only grow.

You only wanted to cut all of the bullshit that you knew Michael was about to pull; you just wanted to talk to Michael and have a normal fucking conversation for once. Separation at this point seemed to give you a ridiculous amount of unwanted torment; emotionally, physically, and this point possibly even spiritually. You knew you were meant to be around him - there was no point in fighting the connection you two had. So.. that was why you felt justified in your choice of atleast attempting to have this conversation with Michael, and to make the effort that he barely had the balls to do.

"Hey, It's nice to see that the both of you bothered to show up," Michael sneered.

"Of course we did, Michael. I actually try to stay true to my word - it's not like you can say the same," you stated without missing a beat while maintaining direct eye contact.

You were aware that you probably sounded harsh to any eavesdroppers listening, but you remained unapologetic. You didn’t offer a smile with your words; and you tried your best to remain stoic. A quick glance to your right told you that Mallory was trying her best to avoid Michael's gaze still, most likely uncomfortable at you and Michael's vicious banter.

"Someone seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed,” Michael said with a dark chuckle.

“Ha. Funny," You spit out. Glaring daggers at him as you spoke, “As if you slept well either."

"I didn’t actually; but maybe you would've known that if you've been so kind to ask," Michael bit back.

You gave Michael a long, scorching glare - silently cueing him to shut the fuck up and to consider someone else's feelings for once.. but, you dont really know if he was capable of doing that after all.. but it worked.

You felt bad for Mallory; who was awkwardly staring at her hands and fiddling with her thumbs. You could practically feel how uncomfortable this conversation was making her, and not to mention it was painfully obvious.

You weren't surprised in the slightest that Michael seemed to pick up on her sudden dispirited aura, as well. His light blue eyes quickly traveled from you to Mallory; and it was absolutely revolting to see how fast he could go from having a expression of pure exasperation to.. fondness and concern when he looked at Mallory. It almost reminded you of his reaction to finding Madison after you completely kicked her ass but.. the way he looked at Mallory was different. It was more delicate. It would've been cute if.. you weren't in the current, complicated situation you found yourself in.

"Mallory.." he spoke her name with such softness your surprised she didn't melt right then and there.

They finally met each others gaze; and Mallory met him with a smile which Michael only mirrored.

"Are you okay?" he affirmed.

Mallory nodded, the smile quickly vanishing from her lips as she looked over to you, and then back at Michael.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just happy you two survived last night."

This comment made all three of you smile, but yours was definitely fake. You were grateful that the weird, heavy tension that was between you and Michael had been temporarily lifted though. Maybe having Mallory around to mediate all of yours and Michael's conversations wasnt a bad idea.

"I-"

"Me too. I dont know if (Y/n) told you but, the reason why im bothering to meet with you two today is to figure out what happened last night. Due to (Y/n)'s track record, I'd rather hear things from your perspective.. if you dont mind, Mallory," Michael said.

Essentially cutting you off and once again from speaking directly to Mallory.

Michaels eyes, which normally looked soulless and held a degree of ruthlessness in them (in your opinion) had lost a bit of their edge and fury when he looked at Mallory.. but she didn't seem to take notice how interested he suddenly was in her. Right now, she just seemed flustered and put under the spotlight. Her cheeks were spotted a uneven red color from the unwarranted direct attention Michael was giving her, and it was obvious that she was nervous. Her black, painted nails were tugging mindlessly and restlessly at the thin, decorative gloves she was wearing. A typical nervous habit you noticed she displayed.

Your gaze stayed focused on Mallory but you could feel Michael's hot, glaring stare on you. It was only for a split second after he was done talking - but after that second, he was right back to Mallory. Mallory. His seemingly new, favorite infatuation.

It wasnt jealousy that made you question why Michael was suddenly being so nice to her. It was the fact that you knew Michael truly was a scheming asshole at heart. At this point you were guessing he was only being so nice to her because he needed a favor done.. the mere thought made you bit your lip to suppress a eye roll.

"I-I can try but I wasnt there for the entire night-" Mallory stammered.

She looked at you for support but all you could offer was another meaningless smile in return.

"That's fine. Whatever you remember will do," Michael pressed.

Mallory gave her gloves (which she was still fussing with) a quick glance and then continued; looking at Michael while she spoke.

"Well, it was nothing really remarkable. I'm sure (Y/n) could tell you more than I can but, I saw you get drunk. Incredibly drunk and then.. well that's it. I went back to Robichaux's after that."

Her words left you astonished. How was that all she had to say?? Where was the part where she came back for you? Wasn't she the one who put you into the bed in the hotel room you woke up in, this morning? You knew it was most likely Michael who put you in the hotel last night but, a small part of you was still hoping it could've been Mallory.

"Wait.. what? But that's not everything, it cant be.. I-" The farther your words progressively came out of your mouth the longer your sentence ran.. or as long as Michael allowed too before once again interrupting.

"Mallory.. I think me and (y/n) will be good talking about things one on one from here. As much as I've enjoyed your company; I can only tolerate so many witches and.. according to nature; sadly it has to be this one," Michael flickered his eyes toward you, obviously referencing you in the latter part of his sentence.

Profanities that started with every letter of the alphabet ran through your head at his attempt of trying to be sweet. He extended his hand out to squeeze Mallory's - and after she said her goodbyes, she was quickly gone. Out of the venue.

Looked like it was just you and your favorite villain again.

As much as you loved Mallory and cherished the friendship you two had - you were kind of glad she was gone. The fact you could admit that to yourself with confidence shocked you but.. you felt as if you had to act like a nicer, polished version of yourself that just wasnt truly you around her. As much as your hatred for Michael still ran deep, you were free to act authentic around him - and atleast now you were completely free to call him out on whatever bullshit he just tried to pull off.. and that realization that you now had no bounds was.. completely freeing.

"So, what the fuck was that?"

"What?" Michael asked.

His voice was raised in a defensive, annoyed manner.

"How you were treating Mallory.. what do you want from her?"

You studied the man sitting across from you at the table, and you smugly noticed how even he seemed to be more relaxed now that Mallory was gone.. He was slightly bent over the table now with his elbows resting on the surface, but after your question - he brought one of his ring adorned hands up to his mouth, a poor attempt to stifle a laugh.

"So you noticed," He commented.

You watched as he dropped his hand from his mouth back down to the table in one swift movement.

"It was hard not too," You said.

The predator like focus was lively in his eyes again as he studied you. He was moving a bit in the chair he was sitting in - fully shifting and angling his body towards you. You knew you had his full, undivided attention now.. but this time you planned on taking full advantage of it.

"But.. just please leave her out of it, Michael. I'm serious. Mallory has enough on her plate already, she doesn't need... to be involved," you added.

You struggled to find the proper word to use for last part of your sentence. Labeling whatever this situation was still felt incredibly odd and- just really added to your point that Mallory didn't need to be involved or kept in the loop about things anymore.. It was obvious that Michael was starting to finally warm up to you and.. it seemed he was almost starting to trust you too. Almost.

Michael solely smirked at your words and gave a brief hum as a placeholder for a laugh, like your words weren't worthy of being praised or encouraged by something as gracious as a full on laugh.

"Oh, Dont worry (y/n). I wasnt planning on involving her. It was satisfying enough just to see someone with so much power and potential reduced to a blushing mess.. but - I'm done talking about your dear friend Mallory."

You dont realize that you've slowly stopped breathing until you feel the slow but urgent feeling of gradual suffocation constrict your lungs.. Was it possible he was alluding to you, and maybe not Mallory at all in his last sentence?

Was it really stupid at this point to consider that maybe him flirting and being so stupidly nice with Mallory was just another manipulation tactic.. to see how you'd react? Maybe.

"I only.. wanted to thank you for what you did," Michael stated - finally getting to the point.

Your stomach flipped. The emotions you were feeling before were already laced with confusion and uncertainty but - pining how you felt now never seemed more impossible.

"What I.. did?"

You looked at Michael's body language for answers while he verbally stalled. Both of his elbows were now resting on the table, both hands clasped together as his cheek rested on them. He looked soft.. vulnerable too, but it still didn't compare to how he looked when he gazed at Mallory earlier.. or even Madison. The way he looked at you was completely and utterly different. It was the way that his eyes darkened whenever you two happened to make prolonged eye contact. You thought maybe his pupils could just be dilated but then again, Michael was nothing like normal.. Or that's what you tried to tell yourself anyway. It was creepy to say the least, and deeply unsettling. Even when his eyes nearly changed to black; the rest of his face still upheld a sad, genuine, softness. You still weren't scared of him.

"Yes. What you did.. last night. You didn't have to do what you did but, I just wanted to tha-"

"Wait, you remember?" your words come out; rushed and sonorous. Striking like thunder.

Just the mere thought that Michael could've possibly remembered last nights events had your heart beating wildly in your chest. You felt the nausea in your stomach for a split second until you felt it start to spark up into your throat - you were only seconds away from getting sick. How fucking embarrassing was it that he remembered everything.. was he even truly drunk, at all?

The sudden, rash embarrassment that you felt must've been apparent to Michael because.. he looked concerned for you. His eyebrows were slightly creased and the light blue in his irises were darkened and swarmed with emotion.

You started to move to get up; at this point you weren't concerned with finding a bathroom necessarily - you just needed a fucking break. Michael's company was intoxicating; exactly like a drug.. no matter how much you truly hated him and wanted nothing more than to see him put in his place; he still managed to pull you in effortlessly. The type of territory you were headed into with Michael with purely dangerous. You remember Cordelia warning you not to get attached; and you certainly weren't so far.. so far.

The affect Michael had on women (and men, and really all types of people) was blatantly obvious. He drew people in so fucking easily, he was basically a magnet. He was beautiful, charismatic, had money, and was goal driven (even though his goals were horrific, like ending the world) - he met all the qualifications and standards most people had for a boyfriend. Including your own.

You couldn't decide whether it was painfully ironic or tragic that someone that seemed.. almost built for romance was really made for destruction. Destined for it even. But you knew that if Michael wanted too, it wouldn't be too hard to just.. make you fall for him. You suppose when it came down to it, that's why his prescense was so overwhelmingly suffocating.

It wasnt Michael that you were truly infuriated at; it was what this whole situation stood for. Sure, your life pre-switching wasnt the best but.. you missed the normalcy and the routine. The lack of chaos was something you dreamed about. Now, you were beyond fucked - going from having basically no powers to being stronger than Mallory herself, as well as being destined to help set up your soulmates death was far too much to handle. But.. at the same time it wasnt, because everyone in the coven made sacrifices and you know that if any of them were put in your situation they would do it without a doubt or complaint - so why were you hesitating?

There was no denying that when you were away from him you craved and hungered for his attention, his precense.. and it was the realization that you didn't really care how you got his attention that made you try to finally stand up and leave. For the second time.

Michael put his hand on your forearm, an inch right below your wrist. His touch was soft but firm - you reflexively tried to pull your arm back but he continued to keep you under his grasp.

"Dont go. I'm not going to beg but.. I just; need you to understand-" Michael's voice started to break.

"Need me to understand, what, Michael? What is it this time? I need to know that your being honest, you cant keep.. treating me the way you have," the words you were forced to chose made you squirm and bite your tongue.

You wanted to call him out on his pathetic lying but you chose a safer route instead. One that wouldn't burn his ego so bad. Being forced to tell a sort of.. half truth was annoying. It felt like he was in control again, over you, over your emotions.. and he was. He had total control over you, and it seemed as if he barely put in any effort trying to do so. Although, it was obvious he was trying to shy away and deny this whole.. weird arranged marriage as much as you had; but he was finally succumbing to the urge.. and so were you.

"I never lied. Every time I've seen you, I've never said anything that wasnt true.. but, I haven't exactly let you in - either," Michael's hands separated and dropped low to the table, his hands nervously fiddling with his rings. "I'm sure that your already well acquainted with my past or that you have pre-conceived notions about me but.. nothing in my life has been easy.. and that includes switching with you. I dont easily trust anything, or anyone so seeing how you acted last night.. made me realize that I want.. to try to make this work."

Flames of embarrassment licking up your body, first from your chest until the feeling infested up to your cheeks is how you first reacted to his words. Then it was shock that quickly numbed the feeling, like a acute natural anesthetic.. if only the feeling were stronger and could actually make you unconscious for whatever the fuck was occurring now. You licked your lips, completely uncertain of what you wanted to say but you started talking anyway.. letting the words find you as you went.

"I dont want to argue either, Michael. I never did to begin with.. and as much as I dont want too, I forgive you.. and hopefully you can forgive me too - along with Madison.. I'm sorry. I really, truly am and I hope you remember that from last night," as much you tried to sound confident in your words as you spoke, your voice unwillingly stumbled and wavered as your sentence drew on.

Your words came out quickly and unwillingly before you could even truly think them through logically.. Were you really apologizing to Michael, out of all people? The one person who had done so much fucking damage to you, and yet here you were - pathetically begging for his forgiveness. It was past heart-rending at this point; the feeling and realization of how much you yearned for Michael was hurting you, in every way imaginable. You had to remind yourself to not unconsciously hold your breath as you stared at him, but you only found kind - blue eyes staring back.

His lips slightly upturned at the corners, in a odd close mouthed smile. He made direct eye contact with you; Which at first you sheepishly tried to avoid but.. as much as you tried to avoid his eye contact, you surrendered and ultimately gave into it. After all; his eyes were fucking marvelous to look at - and what were you really trying to avoid anymore, after all?

"I remember every word you said (y/n), and I dont take what you said lightly.. I know you were telling the truth and that it wasnt easy to say.." His words drifted off almost unwillingly as he ultimately drew silent.

You watched as he hastily licked his lips nervously; and your stomach did another flip.

"But; if you were open to this.. I honestly want to get to know you and to try.. to atleast be civil. But you have to understand that.. I need your full transparency. I have to know that this is something your truly wanting to commit to because, i-"

Michael shifted and twitched in his chair, and wore a expression as if he was.. insecure.

Even though all you had heard about Michael in the past was complete rumors and you really had no solid grasp on what had happened in his past.. you felt an odd, wave of memories pass over you - but you were well aware that they didn't belong to you. These memories were accompanied by odd, foreign feelings. Ones that were stuck with you for only a split second but left you nearly in fucking tears. What the fuck was that? You met his gaze again, and it's like he fucking knew that you knew how he was planning to finish his incomplete sentence.

You bit your cheek to suppress the overflow of emotions you had just felt, and it was working for the time being but.. you figured that was just another distraction. Something else you to had to suppress and fight.

You first sat idle, your mouth incredibly dry and your throat painfully aching. Screaming for you to stop halting and just to fucking speak. You then realized that Michael didn't stop because he thought you were going to speak.. he purposefully cut himself off. There was something he was avoiding here but.. still expected you to know. Since Michael apparently was so focused on your apparent 'relationship' you figured it wouldn't hurt to start putting effort in and take initiative.. right?

"You dont have to say anything more, Michael. I get with.. what you've had to endure in your past on why you would be so guarded, even counting what I've done to you," you take a deep breath in "and, I dont know exactly how committed you want me to be but I know that at the very least that.. I'd like to get to know you too."

This was as far as flirty that you'd decide to be for the night. Even though Michael's guard was apparently as far gone as your current sanity; you decided that there was no way that you were going to be so carefree when it came to handing over your peace to him.

The time whilst you waited for Michael to react seemed to stretch impossibly long. The minutes feeled like long agonizing hours; your heart beating impossibly fast in tandem with every agonizing second that slipped away.. until he spoke, naturally.

"Are you sure you know what you're agreeing too?"

You didn't shy away from his gaze this time.

"The same could go for you," you challenged.

A sinister giggle escaped your lips, but Michael didn't back down. His blue eyes looked into yours in a way that spoke more words than he ever was capable of producing out loud. It proved that even now when he was attempting to be soft and civil with you, he was still trying to assert dominance. Fuck that.

"I think I'm more than capable of taking you on, (y/n)."

You scoffed.

"Okay, so.. what does this all mean? Like, what does this mean for us, Michael?" the words you spoke burned hot on your tongue with regret as soon as you said them.

"It doesn't mean anything except that I just.. would appreciate if I could see you.. regularly from now on."

His eyes held contact with yours.. It relaxed you a bit to notice how he looked as if he was holding his breath too. So, you weren't the only one that was nervous, right?

You breath haltered; he was still ignoring your question. What were you two? You knew that Michael's intentions with you were crystal clear - for the time being he seemed strict on his 'friends only' rule which.. of course couldn't really happen if Cordelia was expecting you to still carry out the plan that she had intended.. which she did. Certainly she did.

"Yeah well.. Cordelia-" your words fell flat and naturally died off on their own.

You had no idea why you even bothered to mention her name. You knew what you had to inevitably tell him eventually about Cordelia; but you knew now wasnt the time. It was too soon, you needed to wait until Michael got more comfterable with you before you exposed the coven.. and that's if you chose to do that.

"Look, I'm not stupid. It's obvious how strong your powers are.. and your still scared of Cordelia?" Michael looked at you now as if you were saying a joke.

A insult burned at the back of your throat. You tried your best to contain the fire you could feel, coercing you to open your mouth and to act on your immediate feelings rather than on logic.. but, to respect Michael and how vulnerable he had previously been with you - you held your tongue.

"Its not that I'm scared of Cordelia. I respect her and theres a difference. You have to understand where I stand between you and Cordelia, as well as the coven."

"You have no business being stuck in the middle though - which is why.. I have a solution," the left corner of Michael's lips upturned slightly.

Unconsciously you leaned forward in your chair.. a solution? You flinched as you saw Michael turn and pull something out of his jacket pocket; and suddenly threw it at you. A flash of silver caught the light as it passed through the air. It didn't take long for you to realize that he threw you a pair of keys. What?

"W-what is this?" Your voice shook as it raised to an higher octave.

"It's keys to an apartment. This will make things easier; in terms of us having access to eachother and it'll wean you off of having the covens support."

Your lips slowly turned into a frown, and your fingers nervously played with the keys as you put off having to look Michael in the eye.. it was clear to you now that even though Michael had been pretty open with you.. Michael was clearly misconstrued about your.. exact situation and with where you sat with the coven. He had no idea how involved you were, you could only guess.

However; your loyalty with the coven really had nothing to do with the fact you couldn't accept Michael giving you an entire fucking apartment.. There was no way you were going to let him hold this over your head, no fucking way.

You held the keys up and looked at them in a unsure manner before flinging them on the table in Michael's general direction. Ignoring the many dirty looks you got when the keys clashed loudly against the table.

"Even though I appreciate the gesture, theres no way I can accept that, Michael and you should know that."

"Your being stupid, I basically have all the money in the world at my disposable - at the tip of my fingers.. Take the apartment," the last three words sounded as if they were meant to be a threat.

His pronunciation on each last word was stern and final.

"I can't just move wherever you want me too; you realize I'm still a member of the coven, right? And if I just leave- it's going to look suspicious."

"Do you want to leave?"

Your breath came out as shaky when you exhaled. Now that was a good fucking question.

"I.. I mean maybe. Its been hard to live there to say the least recently and it would be nice to get away but I just.. I dont know if this is a good idea," your voice shook as you spoke.

This was the most candid you probably had ever been with Michael. Even when you were intoxicated, you made certain that every word that came out of your mouth around him was carefully planned and strategic.. but, just speaking and telling him what you were thinking right off the bat was a bit nerve wracking to say the least.

Your nails nervously dug into the skin of your palm as you waited for his reaction.

"What's holding you back?" You heard his voice ring out.

Your gaze fell down from his eyes back onto the silver keys that lied on the table. You couldn't help but to think - would it really be that bad just to take the apartment? If worse comes to worse you could always just move back to Robichaux's.. right? After all, it's not like Cordelia wouldn't approve - it was her idea for you to fucking seduce the dude in the first place. And Mallory would surely be understanding, if anything she would probably be excited. Fuck it.

"Yeah no, your right.. I'll do it."

You snatched the keys back from the table in an act of defiance - even though it really wasnt because once again, you were giving Michael what he wanted. Motherfucker.

Taglist: @mindlesschicca @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @instincts-baby @melodylangdon @littledemondani @langdons-pinkyring

let me know if you would like to be added :)

#michael x reader #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfic #ahs fanfic #cody fern fanfic #my fic #my writing #as always ill crosspost to ao3 in a bit hehe #kinda nervous about posting bc this has a lot of dialouge and dialouge is not my strong suit imo lol #ive been hyperfixating on millory hard lately so.. thats why i added the millory moment dhdjdh

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triforce-princess · 3 years

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well, i finally 100% completed hyrule warriors age of calamity in its entirety, including post game content, so i’m finally going to write a full review. beware this review will contain every spoiler imaginable so please do not click the read more if you haven’t finished the game yet and don’t want to be spoiled!

tl,dr; this game is a lot of fun despite some of its shortcomings and it’s really nice to see characters get the development they needed in breath of the wild. also a huge improvement gameplay-wise from the first game. if you’re a fan of breath of the wild it’s worth a try, just don’t expect breath of the wild style of gameplay! and if you’re a fan of the original hyrule warriors, you are going to love this a lot. ok now to get into the details. this is extremely long;

about the gameplay; it took me a while to fully adjust to the new controls and mechanics, but once i finally understood it it was so much fun. i originally wasn’t crazy about the sheikah slate runes since it was difficult at first to remember that a. i had that ability, and b. when the proper time to use it was. but when it finally clicked for me it brought a whole new interesting layer to the gameplay that challenged my memory in a fun way. it took me even longer to learn what the use of the rods were but those were great in a pinch once i figured it out. i also loved the flurry rush mechanic since dodging is a pretty important aspect of the gameplay. all these new layers added to this gameplay makes me wonder how i ever put up with the original hyrule warriors gameplay lol. something i wasn’t entirely crazy about was the wall jumping and paraglider stuff? i never really found it useful and it always just became a problem when i was trying to dodge and i’d be confused about why my character was slowly flying around at critical moments.

the camera in this game was pretty frustrating. with the more organic map & lots of tight spaces (which i’ll get more into later), the camera would get stuck a lot and you’d be unable to really see what’s going on and it got pretty frustrating at times. i wish there were some way they could fix that but i’m not sure what they could do without having the camera go out of bounds & show the edges of the map. maybe they could’ve made some of the objects that are in the middle not be things the camera get stuck on though.

i also felt like there were too many special effects going on with some enemies and attacks, sometimes it would cover up large parts of the screen & you wouldn’t be able to see what you were fighting and that was pretty stressful (i found myself frequently yelling “i can’t see!!” when i’d defeat a guardian or something in a room with lots of other enemies. this only became an issue in the later parts of the game though.

now about the maps, i do love how much more organic and natural they are. it’s a big upgrade from the original which had a lot of wide corridors leading into square rooms which were allied/enemy basses. but unfortunately, this causes issues with navigation and the camera getting stuck (like i mentioned before). i had a lot of problems where the map was too natural and i was confused about why i was getting stuck on level geometry when it looked like i could walk through there. i think the breath of the wild style makes this confusing too because you can’t really undo a thousand hours of being able to walk through nearly everything. but also it was just really unclear what was a wall and what wasn’t sometimes. i was surprised i actually had to zoom in on the mini map and look at that to move around at times. definitely an ambitious aspect of the game & i appreciate the effort and detail, but i don’t know if it works that great for this style of gameplay. i also don’t know why they bothered putting so many small details on the ground if they’re just going to pop in so close to the camera. it was kind of awkward when you cleared out all the enemies & were traveling to another location and it was the only noticable thing on screen.

speaking of ambitious, we can’t ignore this game’s framerate issues. it’s the first thing on everyone’s minds when talking about this game. most of the time, it was pretty acceptable. but they definitely pushed this game farther than the switch can go and it shows. i really appreciate the love they put into making this game as detailed as they did, but i don’t know if it was worth it in the long run. there’s only a couple times i can think of where the framerates got absolutely unacceptable, and it always seemed to be when there was a lot of electricity and enemies on screen at the same time. it happened once during the final vah naboris mission and another time where there were a ton of electric lizalfos all shooting electricity at once at the same time you have to fight an electric lynel. but, i’m not the kind of gamer that loses my shit over dropped framerates, i grew up with the n64 & have had to put up with poor early emulation many times in my life so framerates don’t really phase me until it just gets unplayable.

wasn’t crazy about how many late game missions were just boss rushes, but that’s pretty standard hyrule warriors fare. at least it was more fair in this game where most of the time you only had to fight one boss at a time and the next boss wouldn’t spawn in until you beat the first one, so there was no risk of accidentally aggro-ing a boss in another part of the map & have an unfair fight on your hands like in the first game. it was pretty anti-climactic how the seemingly final mission which had the highest recommended level was just another boss rush, and not even the hardest one (it was just a bunch of regular malice bosses in a row).

bit of a side note but i didn’t like having to grind for materials and find koroks for 100%. the koroks weren’t nearly as bad as breath of the wild though, thank god.

i’m pretty disappointed that some content that’s clearly in the game isn’t unlocked in the base game, it’s looking pretty likely that they’ll add it as dlc later & pretend it’s new content to make the game relevant again...i’ve always firmly believed dlc should be extra content that’s added in later. hopefully they’ll add some really cool stuff as dlc alongside the stuff that’s in the game & it won’t be so disappointing. there’s two characters i was sure would be unlocked as playable characters (sooga and astor) but i found it weird that you don’t get them in the post game and instead you get to play as the egg guardian (terrako) and calamity ganon???? talk about subverting expectations. also really frustrated to learn that zelda’s royal dress isn’t available in the base game but its in the files & is just missing one body part?? really hope that’s just a free update and not like, paid dlc. kind of dumb that they didn’t give the devs one extra day to model feet on the character.

about the story; the story starts out really strong i feel, i loved seeing characters get the development they didn’t get in breath of the wild and this game’s story makes breath of the wild’s story feel even more incomplete than it did before this game came out. and actually seeing the story play out in chronological order in real time without link having amnesia gave the story so much more feeling and connection. this is probably my favorite aspect of this game because i was always so disappointed with how disconnected you feel in breath of the wild because of the way the story is told. and it does so much of a better job illustrating link and zelda’s feelings. i’m probably the single most difficult person to convince when it comes to link and zelda being in a relationship or having feelings for eachother and i thought this was quite possibly the best master sword scene in any zelda game;

in previous games link has always had to prove his courage in a variety of trials spread across the land and to me its really boring, especially after how many times its been done. the thing that gets me about this scene is the master sword deems him worthy because of his desire to protect zelda even when he’s been beaten down & disarmed. that was a really beautiful moment to me & i’m glad they wrote the scene this way.

speaking of being worthy of power because you want to protect someone, i wasn’t really that crazy of zelda unlocking her power just because she loves link but honestly this game illustrated it in a much better way & i’m more down with it now. i loved this shot how it really captured what she was feeling;

it’s also in general awesome to see the champions in action, both in gameplay and in cutscenes. i remember being in awe the first time i got to play as urbosa. it feels like we finally really got to know them and how powerful they really were, instead of breath of the wild just telling us they were cool & we just had to believe it.

now for the part i know people say this game is shit because of; the time travel aspect. yeah, it’s a little silly and nonsensical, but honestly, it was kind of fun. and i don’t get how a time travel plot is somehow weird for the zelda series. the most critically acclaimed game of this series, ocarina of time, is entirely revolved around a time travel plot & the heroes would not have won if it weren’t for time travel in that game. yeah, it’s goofy, but this series is known for its nonsensical aspects & plotholes. there’s always some kind of unexplainable magic in this series that solves problems. i don’t think that makes this game shit. plus i was kind of starstruck when i first got to play as sidon lol. i was thinking to myself, man, who would’ve known 3 years later we’d get to play as sidon! crazy! none of the champion descendants were really my favorite to play as but it was still cool to see them & play as them.

something i didn’t understand was why kohga and the yiga clan joined zelda’s cause? i feel like a vital scene got cut. i don’t get why he’d join even when astor betrayed him, considering his group’s ambitions and how many times they tried to kill zelda. and where’d sooga go? the scene of astor betraying them kind of implied he was going to die but we never got confirmation of that, and he even shows up in a post game mission as an ally (no cutscene, just one line of dialogue during gameplay)

as for the ending, i guess it was alright? astor was a really lazily written villain and i just did not care for him at all. kinda don’t even care that we don’t get to play as him (yet, probably). calamity ganon’s design in this game was terrible. and i guess it would’ve been hard to make it work, but no beast ganon? just felt a little to easy to wrap up. despite this i guess it was nice to see hyrule get a happier ending even if it was a bit nonsensical at times. also this is just a bit of a personal thing for me but i liked seeing hyrule before it was destroyed. it always bums me out when you find a locaiton in game that’s been destroyed & you can only think about what it mightve looked like before. this is something that’s bummed me out since wind waker (was always disappointed you don’t get to see what greatfish isle is like!!) and breath of the wild gave me so much disappointment in that aspect lol.

one final thought but it was odd to me how many lines revali got & how often he interacted with link lol. was weird to see him slowly warm up to link a little towards the end (but of course he’s still a little mean...). no other character acknowledges link as much as revali. this scene confused me the most??

there were so many other people revali could’ve spoken to. he barely even acknowledges teba who was the one who specifically came to his aid!! and the way link looks at him with big puppy eyes?? link barely makes a facial expression at anyone else! and how revali expresses gratitude for the first time in his life after looking at link’s stupid cute anime face and smiles (but he turns around because he would be too ashamed to smile at link i guess)

anyway that’s it, i finally got out all my thoughts about this game. this went on way longer than i intended and i’m sorry if you read the whole thing & it took forever lol. this game is fun, get it.

#legend of zelda #hyrule warriors: age of calamity #breath of the wild #text #hwaoc spoilers

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zeppelin-and-unicorns · 3 years

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"Eric and Donna are great, but they have very different personalities and very different opinions on stuff". But, isn't that literally the exact same thing with Jackie and Hyde? Isn't that half of their appeal? The fact that they almost never see eye-to-eye yet they form a connection and learn from each other? Why would that be a downside for Eric and Donna?

I think that I used the wrong wording in that previous ask, and I’m sorry, because yeah, Jackie and Hyde are seemingly opposites, she’s the bitchy cheerleader, he’s the city’s burnout, but once you start to analyze their characters and their history, you realize that they just fit together.

They’re not the complete opposites we all thought they were at the beginning of the show, I mean, while they have completely different aesthetics and obvious differences in personalities, they do have a few things in common, the most evident one being their family issues. The show never gave us a lot of details about it, because it was a sitcom, and well… most of the stuff Jackie and Hyde went through with their respective families were not funny at all, but they have similar pasts and they were the only ones from the entire gang who knew what being abandoned felt like.

They had similar traumas with their respective parents, but they have different responses to it. Hyde, in fear of being abandoned again, tends to push people away before they could push him away (as said by the wise Kitty Forman), and Jackie does the complete opposite. She smothers people in fear that if she doesn’t give them enough attention, they’ll leave her.

According to Jackie, that’s why they’re such a good couple, and I have to agree with her. Hyde needs someone who’ll force him to deal with his feelings and that won’t let him back off of some situations that might make him uncomfortable at first, but will be good for him in the long run, he needs someone who’ll inspire him to be better, to do better, and that’s Jackie. Jackie needs someone who’ll help her be more grounded and soothe her insecurities at the same time, someone who’ll encourage her to be more independent, someone who’ll inspire her to be the best version of herself, and that’s Hyde. They both motivate each other to be the best version of themselves, and in a certain way, they both taught each other how to love.

Jackie and Hyde are happier and better people when they’re with each other, unlike Eric and Donna.

I believe that Eric and Donna are just… okay. I mean, their relationship is just so different from Jackie and Hyde’s, it’s almost as if they never got past the whole “high school love” phase, y’know? They used to learn some things with each other, but that stopped completely at some point. I don’t think they add something to each other’s lives, and I think they both can do better.

I think that what makes me think that way is the fact that Eric and Donna have completely different opinions on topics that I consider to be very important in a relationship, and they both refuse to cave and learn from each other, so they just keep on bickering for what seems like forever.

For example, Eric has some rather sexist ideals, like thinking that the man has to be the provider, that the woman's job is to pamper him and have babies, while the man works. Ideals that Donna said multiple times she would not put up with (but she kind of ends up doing it anyway later on the show, which makes no sense to me, but well, the writers are stupid and they threw Donna’s character development in the trash).

Eric and Donna's breakup on season 3 was sad, really, it broke my heart, but it was actually very in-character, and when we stop to analyze it, we could see it coming from a mile away. Eric kept getting more insecure about their relationship, and as a consequence of that, he kept tightening his grip on Donna, trying to control her and limit her so he wouldn't feel threatened by her independence. For example, the promise ring, in my opinion, was Eric trying to reassure himself that Donna would not leave him, that by accepting his ring, she wouldn't stand up for herself as much as she does, that they would be okay, that they’d get married one day and have kids, just like he always dreamt of.

Donna had a point in not accepting it, and Eric should’ve listened to her.

Jackie and Hyde had a similar problem in later seasons, where Jackie was pressuring Hyde for marriage and he was starting to feel pressured, but I believe that this problem was solved on s6ep18 “Do You Think It’s Alright”, after he saw her in that wedding dress.

I believe that after that episode, Jackie and Hyde had an off-camera conversation about their future, because Jackie quit it with the marriage talk, and their relationship was okay again after that episode (until the writers ruined it on s7).

Jackie and Hyde often talked about their problems and worked through them as a couple, they both communicated and learned how to compromise to make each other happy (ex: s5ep10 “The Crunge”; s5ep11 “The Girl I Love”; s5ep12 “Misty Mountain Hop”; s5ep14 “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You”; and honestly many, many more).

Jackie, Hyde, Donna, and Eric are all very stubborn characters, the difference is: Jackie and Hyde know how to compromise and make sacrifices for the sake of their relationship, while Eric and Donna don’t. They just swipe most of their problems under the rug and pretend like they never happened, when they do talk, their talks are always “Eric, you’re stupid”, and Eric agrees and promises he won’t screw up again, and then he proceeds to screw up again in the next episode, and it’s an endless cycle.

Eric and Donna are not a bad pairing, not at all, I really liked them together, especially in the earlier seasons. But the writers did them dirty (just like they did J/H dirty on many occasions). Most of Eric and Donna’s problems could’ve been solved with proper communication, but they would both need to make compromises in order to make their relationship work, after all, they are still very opinionated people with completely opposite opinions on topics that are very important in a relationship.

So I guess the correct wording would be: Jackie and Hyde are compatible, and Donna and Eric are not. At least that’s what I think.

And yeah, that's my opinion and my interpretation of their relationships. It’s okay if you don’t agree with me, most people don’t.

God, I ended up writing a whole ass essay, sorry about that, really! But I hope you understood what I meant, I’m not a very didactic person and I feel the need to overexplain things too much, which ends up making things even more confusing, and… I’ll shut up now, lol.

#ask #eric x donna #jackie x hyde #donna pinciotti #eric forman #jackie burkhart #steven hyde

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

limits of desire⤳t.h.||epilogue

Epilogue: Wallking down an aisle.

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary: the one with the wedding and the magazine article

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: hmm an article, swearing, julia roberts, fluff :)

word count: 5.K

previous chapter series masterlist Here’s my new story! Perfidy (enemies to lovers) a one shot after this: Tom’s proposal

Anyway, thanks for sticking up to this story, for giving it a chance and for the support. I’m super sad it’s ending but I’m glad you guys stuck asdlas love you.

Your wedding day, according to movies and books, is the best day of your life. The bride is blushing and glowing and everything goes perfect. But, that is usually not the case, not in real life, at least. Because you’ll see shoes flying and people screaming and running around a room. People rushing in with the bride and calling the groom.

Lizzie was staring at the clock in her phone, she was calling everyone, y/n was nowhere to be found and she needed her friend. There were a lot of things to do, and y/n had promised to be there at 7 am sharp.

It was a good thing Lizzie had not made a mistake in choosing Mexico as the location, knowing it meant a lot of drama involved with y/n, but there could’ve been a reason behind it. Where things had ended for y/n happened to be the place where it had started for Lizzie.

Lizzie was, in all matters, freaking out. Her mother and sisters were overwhelming her with questions and picking her hair and running around her room. But none of them mattered, she needed her very best friend. But she thought that maybe y/n wasn’t feeling her best. Lizzie thought about this, was y/n having a breakdown over this?

She thought that maybe y/n wasn’t exactly fine with weddings. Sure, she’d been writing about this for a while now, but it wasn’t the same writing about it than living on it.

But this was Lizzie’s big day, she couldn’t possibly be bothered by it, should she? But she wanted her best friend to be along with her.

Lizzie was getting married.

It was 8 am, where the hell was she? That’s all Lizzie could think about. And she wasn’t the only one who was late, Hannah and Jess were late too. Great friends Lizzie had.

But Lizzie, she hadn’t told anyone, was having second thoughts. She was too nervous for this. Because the stylist wasn’t there yet, her bridesmaids’ dresses had arrived in a different colour, red, not pink. Red. And because the venue had called her wedding planner and told her there had been an issue with the salmon and now they were serving chicken.

Everything was going bollocks.

Lizzie was having an attack, but it seemed like her prayers had come true because Hannah and Jess had walked in, with their dresses in their hands and makeup bags.

“I’m sorry we’re late!” Hannah said. “Y/N’s new article was published!” Hannah waved the magazine in her hand.

Lizzie blinked and frowned. “What?”

Jess nudged Hannah. “Sorry, no, that’s not why we’re late. We went to pick up the dresses”

Hannah widened her eyes and left the magazine on the bed.

“Where the hell is y/n?” Asked Lizzie. “I can’t seem to reach her, it sends me to fucking voicemail!”

Jess and Hannah side-eyed each other.

“Didn’t you see her insta story?” Hannah asked and Jess nudged her again.

“What? No! I’ve been kinda busy! Where the hell is she?” Asked Lizzie. “Gosh I need her, she’ll be able to calm me down! Did she… Did she run away? Some shit like that?”

“No! No, but last night-” Hannah started

“Shut up!” Jess glared at Hannah. “She’ll be here, don’t worry,” Jess assured her. “She went to look for another stylist because we were told Jamie hadn’t arrived yet.”

Lizzie stood up. “Alright.” They all watched her. “Alright.” Lizzie took a deep breath. “I can’t do this.”

“What?” Lizzie’s mother questioned.

“Call Harrison, I can’t do this.”

“No, no,” Hannah walked over as Lizzie’s sisters were also trying to calm her down.

“It’s okay, Lizzie, you’re just stressed out, it’ll be okay,” Jess started.

“Everyone, please just leave, I need a moment to myself,” Lizzie explained.

“C’mon, Liz!” Hannah insisted.

The wedding planner stepped in. “No, no, she’s right, give her some time, everyone out,” she ordered and the room that was once full of bustle was now too quiet.

Lizzie plopped on her bed, and snuggled into her white rob and then stared at the dress. Was she able to do this?

She felt butterflies and knives at the same time. She was unsafe. She needed to talk to y/n, who had been there all along. Y/N had been the perfect maid of honour, even if Lizzie had initially been reluctant after complaining about Y/N choosing Tom over her on her first wedding.

Lizzie knew hadn’t really talked about how it felt to be about to get married, partly, Lizzie knew, it had to do a little bit with the fact that y/n wanted to marry her maid of honour instead. It came with the territory.

But Lizzie was having second thoughts because she did want to get married but it seemed like the universe was telling her not to. The salmon? The stylist? It had to mean something. Because she had planned this wedding perfectly. If there was something going wrong, it meant her marriage was going to go wrong, right?

She tried ringing her friend again and it sent straight to voicemail. She went on Instagram to see if Y/N’s story could solve anything. There was no new Instagram story, not for her close friends, and no new one. Had y/n blocked her? Was y/n having a crisis due to the wedding?

Maybe asking y/n to be her maid of honour hadn’t been the best idea, after all y/n used to call herself the runaway bride and Lizzie was sure that Y/N probably didn’t want to do anything else with weddings. Even if she wrote a wedding column in a magazine.

She knew that today was supposedly a very important day for y/n’s column on the magazine, apparently, y/n was now going to be promoted as to one of the usuals and not only a dumb column. An editor, maybe? Lizzie didn’t know, her head had been too busy planning a wedding that she hadn’t really paid attention to her best friend.

She stared at the magazine that Hannah had left there, lying on top of the white blanket. Lizzie frowned, did she have to read her best friend’s column?

She sighed, she did. It was the closest thing to having her best friend beside her. She opened the magazine to a beautiful shot of her best friend wearing a wedding dress with running shoes, surrounded by some DVDs and cassettes of old Julia Roberts’ movies.

The Runaway Bride, the title was in a big, elegant pink font. It wasn’t like her usual columns, small and with barely a page of it. This was a long article. Lizzie smiled, proud of y/n and then proceeded to read it.

Tom knew that Haz himself had had his doubts too if he was honest to himself. Harrison was freaking out and he knew that there was a big chance that Lizzie had wanted to back up. Tom had been the one to calm him down.

“It’s gonna be okay!”

“What do you know?” Haz had snapped. “First, thanks for being bloody late. Why were you late?”

Tom cleared his throat. “There was a problem with your bride’s stylist and I helped y/n to find a new one.”

“Because they have to do everything together now, remember?” Sam teased, making Tuwaine and Harry giggle.

“Shut up,” Tom blushed but then coughed away his embarrassment.

“And why did you leave early yesterday?” Haz questioned.

Tuwaine and the twins widened their eyes, Tom hadn’t told him yet.

“Uh, I had… a stomach ache,” Tom lied. “No, but Haz, calm down. It’s gonna turn out smoothly.”

“You’re one to talk! You ruined one wedding man, what if some ex of her decides to fucking show up and bloody tell her he loves her?”

“In that case,” Harry laughed. “Y/N would walk in and ruin the wedding, she’s the maid of honour.”

“You’re not helping, dickhead,” Tom told his brother off. “Haz, look, you have to calm down, everything will be alright. This is great, she loves you, alright? And I barely doubt anyone would come back for Lizzie, no, no no, I’m joking, I’m joking.”

Harrison rolled his eyes.

“Look, that stuff doesn’t usually happen, that one time happened because the bride was marrying someone who she didn’t love, and Lizzie loves you, right?” Tom pushed.

“Right, right, but fuck, I’m so bloody nervous!” Haz had his tie around his neck and he was trying to get it right.

“Calm down, dumbass,” Tom laughed as he helped Harrison with his tie. “Everything will be alright.”

“Yeah man, it’ll be okay.”

“I mean, you are marrying Lizzie, not sure how that’s gonna go but,” Tom teased, earning Haz’s middle finger. “I’m joking,” he laughed. “C’mon, c’mon.”

“Dude, everything has gone wrong,” Haz explained. “Something about the salmon and the dresses! And gosh, we’ve been planning this wedding for months and things are tearing up.”

Tom bit his lip. “Okay, I know, I know… I make everything about y/n but.”

“Oh god, don’t start,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Look,” Tom ran to his bag and took out a magazine. “Maybe… read this, maybe it’ll help you.”

“How in the bloody hell is reading a fashion magazine going to help me?” Haz questioned.

“Read it.”

And so the bride and the groom were synchronized, reading a fashion magazine.

The Runaway Bride.

By Y/N Y/L/N

I guess by now, you’ve been reading me for a while, and the world, I hope, has forgotten who I initially was. Maybe you know me as the girl who’s been giving you advice on wedding dresses, on venues and on cakes.

That’s not who I was before all of this. Maybe you knew about my name before I started writing that column here.

After the world took a turn on me, I decided to instead turn it around for me. Maybe the person who was meant to read this will actually read this and clear her doubts, I know you have them. Maybe you’ll smile. Maybe you won’t. Maybe this is my way of clearing your doubts, after all, I am your friend.

There’s not much I can say about me, my name is Y/N, I am an invisible journalist who initially wanted to talk about everyone and everything else and now I’m here writing about myself. I can’t say much about me, I guess. I like my tea with lemon and honey, and I also like it with sugar and cream. Depends on my mood, but I usually prefer iced coffee or a pink mimosa. I love poetry, and I wish I could share a dessert with someone right now,

I am a girl with layers. I do have a story, though.

When I was young I remembered watching all Julia Roberts movies and aspiring to be like her. Don’t tell my mum, but I watched Pretty Woman at a very young age, even if I didn’t quite understand it if I’m honest. But I remember standing up and digging into my mum’s closet to wear some heels, a white coat and a hat to walk down her room to the beat of that infamous song, after that amazing scene.

“Big Mistake, Huge!” I would yell at the same time as Julia. It was a Cinderella for grown-ups type of story. I didn’t quite understand what Vivian's job was, but I understood that she had to kiss Richard Gere and I was fine with that.

I want that to be my job if I’m honest. Can you blame me?

Anyone who knows me, knows I love all Julia Roberts’ movies. Little would I know how much like Julia Roberts’ films my life would turn out to be?

I would like to pride myself on that I’ll become a successful writer like she was on Eat, pray, love.

However, my dream didn’t quite exactly come as I had planned it. Be careful of what you wish, I guess. So far I haven’t found myself moving to Italy to understand the power and pleasure of nourishment, neither have I gone to India to pray and so far I haven’t gone to Indonesia to find my true love.

I did go to Mexico however, and found pleasure in their food. I have gone to my mother’s house and she’s made me pray, and I’ve been to London, and honestly I think this city is truly the love of my life.

Maybe I’m lying. I have met true love, but I guess it’s not the time to talk about it. We will move on to that later.

But I guess I can’t really write a memoir on that, or should I? However, I guess I’ll have to tell my side of the story, don’t you think?

My life did turn into a Julia Roberts’ movie. Not in the ones I thought

It started with a dress, as red as Julia’s in Pretty Woman, a dress and someone helping me with a necklace. I guess by now, my name rings some stories and even though the stories are inverted, and I really feel like I shouldn’t be writing this, this was an open spot for me to speak my mind, to crawl out of my little corner where I liked to be invisible. In my constant pursuit of Julia Roberts’ life, I found myself in a very weird predicament.

I would love to think about it like that scene where he placed that gorgeous necklace around her bare neck, and it kind of stuck. Though, that scene led to a round of unfortunate events.

I fell in love, and though it doesn’t sound as a tragedy, it certainly involved into one, because I fell in love and then proceeded to get engaged… with another man.

It all continued, if I think about it, as “My Best Friend’s Wedding.” Though it sounds cheesy and different. And in no way was my ex-fiancée as Cameron Diaz. At least I don’t want to think that, I didn’t like Cameron in that movie, and I very much liked my ex-fiancé, too much for my own convenience. It’s not a sin, and I hope he’s doing amazing. I still love him.

I’m afraid I didn’t play Julia Roberts’ in that part. My best friend did, however, and I happened to be very in love with my best friend. Note to whoever is reading this: if you happen to be in love with your best friend, don’t make them your maid of honor.

Or do, and do yourself a favor, don’t let it be too late. If you love someone, tell them. If you love someone, don’t get engaged to someone else.

I guess that gives context to me.

If you were to take a few minutes to google me, I know my name is dragged with headlines which are not so pleasant to read. But hopefully, now I can be seen besides the many articles I’ve written. But a few months ago, I was painted as the bad one.

So, instead of rolling along, I decided, instead, to rename myself as yet another one of Julia’s characters. After all, that’s all I wanted to be.

“The Runaway Bride.” Sounds catchy.

Have control of my own life for once.

Because I did run away. And even if I think I should be giving no explanation to the world, I guess maybe I could use this chance to guide another person who lost herself along the way, too. Maybe you’ll find yourself reading this and understanding my words. You’re probably wondering why a runaway bride has been giving you advice on how to choose your jewels, or how to get your face prepped for your big day. Seems like a hypocrite, but I feel like someone who still believes in weddings even after running away from one, has something to say.

I’ve always been the perfect daughter, I’ve tried to, at least. I had perfect grades, got home early and didn’t cause much trouble. That was until I graduated, for sure. I’ve always done what everyone told me to do and I followed the path everyone expected me to follow.

My biggest sin has been falling in love with terrible timing, I’ve loved when I didn’t have to and I didn’t when I had to.

Timing really, that’s my biggest sin.

Most of my life I’ve known when to say no, and when to say yes. But it came to a point when saying those words would change me.

Both words have betrayed me and I am not proud of it. The first time it betrayed me was when someone got down on one knee, and even though I knew in my heart there was an indecisive voice inside, a yes came clear through my mouth.

Don’t get me wrong, at the time, I did mean it. Who would’ve thought that a simple word gave me such a nightmare?

I know, I know, why are they including me in the wedding section if I ran away from my own wedding? It sounds ironic, I was even skeptical when they asked me to.

Because even if it’s late to admit it, I may have not yet married anyone as of right now when I’m writing this, maybe someday it’ll be different. But I do know what love feels like. And I know what it doesn’t feel like.

And maybe you’ve read the articles and realized it, every advice I give you relies on something: It won’t matter in the end, because you’ll see them as you walk down the aisle, and everything will turn to be better.

Because saying “yes” should never bring in guilt. Probably, like most people, if you said yes, then you were sure of it and I truly hope you didn’t say “yes” just for the reason I now know I did. You shouldn’t say yes because you want to be loved, you should say yes because you want to love.

I’m a monster, I know. But I’ve learned a thing or two.

Someone once told me to picture my wedding. And I know, most of us have planned it since our childhood, some have pictured it perfectly, from the flowers to the band, some just know they want a big cake, or some only have been hovering through Pinterest boards. That’s alright.

But when the moment comes, it won’t matter. In the end, you won’t remember if the cutlery was gold or silver.

When you’re planning a wedding you see yourself through the different stages, there is a checklist that should be ticked, and time will rush to it. Everyone rushes you into thinking it should be perfect.

I even had a checklist and I would try to tick off every single box of it because it had to be perfect. But looking at it now, each and every one of those led to the disaster of me turning into Julia Roberts’ character and running the heck out of my wedding.

Because I gave myself such little time to understand that what I wanted was to be with someone else, and I shouldn’t have invited that said person to the wedding.

Let me tell you something, I had always wanted a certain wedding, I knew the theme, I wanted the flowers, the perfect venue. And I fell in love with an amazing wedding dress, everything was planned.

But someone told me that, in the end, it wouldn’t matter, because let me tell you something, I am very sure that when the right person comes, it won’t.

And they told me that what could go wrong would go wrong, but it wouldn’t matter as long as the love of my life was at the end of the aisle.

In my case, it did, everything went wrong. The flowers had been changed, the day before they’d told me the menu we had chosen was changed, too. My hair looked awful, I was not wearing the white dress I had chosen, and it wouldn’t have mattered. But it did, because my whole wedding was meant to be a disaster. Because they were small details, and they shouldn’t have mattered.

And trust me, at a point they didn’t.

I was walking down the aisle to commit the biggest mistake of my life. And if the love of my life hadn’t interrupted my wedding, I would have become Julia Roberts on Eat Pray Love. A sad wife.

But I knew that had it been the one who interrupted the wedding the one I was getting married to, it wouldn’t have mattered, I could’ve had paper rings, I could’ve had the ugliest of flowers, or no flowers at all, and I wouldn’t have cared, because he would’ve been at the end of the aisle.

Because that’s love. And right now as I turn around to the love of my life who is listening to his music and drinking a beer, I know it. I don’t need a checklist, I could marry him right now, wearing our pj’s and using ring pops. Yes, the actual candy. Because what matters is I want to spend the rest of my life with him, discovering his good and bad sides.

But to know this, I had to run away. And I’m not telling you to run away. But sometimes we have to be away from someone to realize they’re a part of us. Maybe you took the time to google me, or maybe you didn’t so I’ll give you a quick summary.

My best friend, and love fo my life stopped my wedding, I rejected him and then I ran away from the altar.

And maybe, you’re thinking, why not go with the love of your life?

Because I wasn’t ready. And I realized that one doesn’t have to choose. One shouldn’t have to choose.

So I chose myself. And saying goodbye to the love of my life wasn’t easy, you know?

It’s delicate, and my reputation could jeopardize his. That’s love you know? Knowing that sometimes you have to choose yourself and that sometimes you should make decisions so you don’t hurt them. But at some point you have to look up.

And I can’t stress this enough, if you don’t know yourself and you don’t know what you want, you can’t expect your significant other to know it, either.

But before I ran away, I had to make it clear that I wanted to come back to him. Which brings me to the next Julia Roberts movie, which is kind of stupid, I know. Notting Hill, then again, I wasn’t Julia in the situation. I gave away all my secrets, from someone who never liked to speak up, I had to.

Yes, like Hugh Grant did, I crashed a press conference and I confessed my love to him. Then we went our separate ways. At that point, I just saw how the whole world turned gray.

I thought to myself: ‘Is it too stupid? Maybe I regret it.’ And I just thought about it, an address I don’t want to remember, a city far away from home. A hotel that perfectly mirrors it. A time when saying no meant keeping secrets. And honestly, right now, I don’t mind having no secrets anymore, I am waiting to give them all away, when he’s ready, when I’m ready. Because now there are no limits I can think of.

And I changed, from wanting the perfect wedding, with every single detail the way I wanted it to, to the wedding that could be held in his living room. From wanting 300 hundred guests to being the two of us.

So here’s my advice to you, whoever you may be. Find a story, dream of something. Don’t get a boring life, go and try to find someone who’d understand you’d have to choose yourself first. Fall in love with yourself first and the wedding will follow along, and love, love without any inconvenience. Don’t be afraid to love, don’t hide away, don’t try to keep all your secrets. And make that checklist, and then do it for yourself, set your date, when you’re ready. Make that guest list so you have everyone you care and love, get the perfect place, the perfect food, and plan the most fun of the honeymoons.

But before anything else, find yourself and let the person you’re marrying find you, delicately, like a poem, let them read you. Because when you do this, when both of you choose yourselves and each other, nothing else matters, it’s just the strawberries decorating the care. And everything will turn out to be easy, even if love isn’t, the path will be opened and the limits of desire will finally go away.

And when you love someone, you’ll realize it, paper rings are enough. Because when your love is so strong, it won’t matter if they changed the cake, or if your bridesmaids’ dresses weren’t the colour you asked.

Maybe I don’t have the best experience, maybe my advice sucks, but I hope we can get along this journey. And I’ll be joining you in your path, help you out to stay away from the path of becoming the runaway bride like me. Helping you along the way to understand what love should feel like, helping you out to stay away from the mistakes I made. Helping you choose yourself so you can be ready to walk down an aisle. Helping you out to be the Julia Roberts you choose to be, not the one the world made you. Maybe I’ll find myself along the way, too, and maybe I’ll be ready to do it, too.

I know that by the time this comes out, I’ll be helping my friend with her wedding dress, and I know that she’ll be the happiest she could be. And with all my heart, I wish her the perfect wedding, paper or gold rings, I know she’s walking down an aisle to the love of her life. And I couldn’t be happier for her.

We’ll see how this goes.

Yours, truly,

The Runaway Bride

---

Being at the end of the aisle gives you a perspective. Maybe Tom was not the one who was at the actual end, but it felt weird. Especially considering what had happened just the night before, a secret he had to yet keep to himself.

He knew Harrison was sweating. And he knew that probably Harrison would feel even more butterflies than Tom, but the music started to play, the moment had come in, everyone turned around to look at how the bridesmaids were walking down the aisle led by y/n, Tom lost it. It felt good, it felt like magic. And the moment his eyes met hers he knew that he’d never regret the decision he’d made. And she looked at him like she was feeling the same thing, as if time had stopped for her as well, as if the music was for them and only them. As if she was whispering their secret, and he looked down at her hand, and smiled.

He saw the red dress, and he knew that for once, he’d chosen the right girl, who was wearing the wrong dress. And Tom had to stop himself, even if he desired to kiss her, he knew he’d have to stop. But she walked to the end of the aisle and was across from him.

Then, everything stopped as the bride was walking in, she looked perfect, with the veil cascading down and her eyes as bright as they could be. But Tom couldn’t look at her, he was too busy admiring y/n. And maybe it was a coincidence but she turned around and locked eyes with him, and he could see how she ran out of breath as she dedicated a smile to him, one that was made for him and only him. He felt his heart stop because they were speaking with their eyes, and he knew what she meant. He felt it too. And everyone was focusing on the bride but they could only look at each other, maybe it was selfish, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe the love around them was inspiring them.

‘I love you,’ they had mouthed to each other.

And Tom knew it, that their little secret was just a secret. Because this wasn’t their day, and they didn’t mind it wasn’t. But he knew that even if nobody had noticed the ring on y/n’s hand, it could’ve been made out of paper, and that if they had to set the date, they’d do,it the very next date, with only them as the guests and barely any theme. They didn’t need any flowers or any fancy venue, they didn’t need to mail the save the dates or hire a vendor. They could marry in their underwear, and they didn’t need to book a honeymoon and she needed no bridal shower, and the menu could be a chocolate cake and a strawberry cheesecake. Her something new could be a mere bracelet, and her something borrowed, old and blue could be a blue shirt of his. Their bridesmaids and the best man could be some random toys. But it wouldn’t matter, because they’d be tying the knot, and it wouldn’t matter because their vows would be perfect, and she’d finally say I do. And that was the only thing that mattered, that they’d be together.

Because that night, while they were dancing, Tom had chosen the right red dress. Because love is easy when the right person comes. Yes, they had their loads of difficulties, but it seemed that whenever they were together, everything just stopped, everything else was ordinary, everything was easy. They made mistakes, but everybody does.

Maybe Tom was not that prince charming to arrive on a white horse, and maybe y/n was not a princess either. Maybe they’ve been wrong this whole time, but they don’t want to hide anymore, because Tom may have tried to get in bed with the wrong girl years ago, but she turned out to be the right one. And y/n used to think that Tom had eyes for everyone for her, but whenever she was in the room, everything else disappeared. And yes, they had to run away to realize they’d run back into each other. Because maybe they’ve crossed the limits of desire, but maybe, they should’ve always been crossed.

The end.

aldsajkd it’s done bye i’m sad it’s over bye

previous chapter series masterlist Here’s my new story! Perfidy (enemies to lovers) one shot: Tom’s proposal

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alovesthis · 3 years

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All Things Must Pass - Dean Winchester CHAPTER ONE

Dean Winchester x Female!Reader Fic

Fic Summary: Reader, her sister Stevie and the Winchesters reunite after not seeing each other in a few years. Ever since Dean told her to leave him and his issues behind, reuniting wasn’t what you expected it would be like. Hunting, past feelings, memories and a life threatening situation that was placed upon Dean Winchester creates tension between you two and everything else.

Warnings: None? Angst, Flashback

Word Count: 5.3k

CHAPTER ONE

Hunting was difficult, and sometimes exhilarating even. It was everything and it was a life you were born into. There was no running from it, at least that’s what you were taught; no leaving it all behind without a guilt of innocent lives in danger you know are always at risk. This was the life of you, your sister and the Winchesters. It was the life of your family in the past. The four of you shared similar stories and childhoods and even knew each other since you were all kids considering everyone's parents were hunters.

It was rare though, you and Stevie seeing the Winchester brothers. Growing up through the years and raising your sister after the death of your parents was rough, but bumping into the boys and John was rare. When John wasn’t around, the four of you had spent time hanging out, or working on a case or two together. But when you all did meet up, it was like time hadn't passed. The two of you were the oldest of your siblings so you always looked out for Sam the same way Dean looked out for Stevie. But the way you both watch each other's backs, the shared intense gazes...there was always something there that the two of you could never even begin to explain.

Flirting was a thing that always happened back and forth between Dean and you. It started when you were kids, teenagers, and it never stopped. At first it was just cute and a way to distract each other from the horrors of hunting but then as you got older there was some tension that both Sam and Stevie so obviously saw.

There was jealousy among both sides, as Dean would see other girls and you would be seeing other guys. But neither of you said anything, because you were just kids trying to find some type of normalcy in an unconventional life you shared. But that’s also when the very rare hookups began that started out platonic but turned into something more as both your feelings lingered between each other. It wasn't spoken but it was known that Dean felt something more and so did you.

And those feelings you two felt was nothing you could ever imagine in a life like this. Feelings like this could never be pursued in a hunters life, as Dean would think. You often wondered why couldn't they at least give it a try?

But losing people by the hands of a vampire, rougarou or a damn demon did make it worse to feel love for someone. It was bad enough the two of you had a younger sibling to protect, so there was never any mention of trying, not a word came out of you to let Dean know you wanted something, wanted him.

You hadn’t seen them in a while, especially Sam. He left them to join college and Dean had stuck to hunting with his father, even after he went missing. When John was missing, Dean called you and Stevie to help him and Sam search for a while, but eventually he pushed you away to keep you and your sister safe once things got more dangerous. You protested his demands then obliged but never stopped helping or looking for their dad. It was the least you could do since John helped you and your sister when your parents died all those years ago.

And ever since that night Dean told you to leave, you hadn't seen them again. But tonight you would have no idea you'd be encountering the Winchesters again. Without any idea of the weight they were about to lay on you. But here you are in Upstate New York, just shy of seven at night, getting ready to solve a case after you and your sister finished a hunt with werewolves a few days ago, just states away.

The diner is blaring, filled with Christmas music playing, families, couples and teens talking over it. It’s stuffy from the heat blasting from the vents and crowded diner. The holiday season was upon everyone, the overbearing christmas decorations and the big glowing multicolor string lights hung throughout the walls of the diner. A few stray strings of tinsel lay on the checkered floor. Sam and Dean sit in a booth, the Christmas lights shining on them as they discuss a case they've been seeing through.

Dean checks out one of the waitresses that walk by him as he smirks to himself as Sam coughs trying to get his attention. He just turns his head at his brother and shrugs laughing before he takes a sip of beer.

“Back to the case, yeah?” Sam smiles as he types away on his laptop after handing over a file to his brother.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean takes the file with aggressive force, exhausted from previous cases. “Let’s just hope this one doesn’t attract a certain woman psycho.”

“Bela?”

“That bitch is all types of nuts.”

“Yeah well,” Sam shrugs, “we’ve got some important things to focus on Dean. Like vampires?”

“So, let me guess. The usual? Dead bodies poppin’ up at night all around town, drained of their blood and teeth marks on their necks?”

Sam looks at him dumbfounded, “Sorta. Except some victims end up staying alive in a hospital.”

“There’s always a catch.” Dean gulps down some beer and rolls his eyes.

“Always.”

You and Stevie walk side by side make your way to the diner counter without any idea you'd be seeing anyone you would know — even the Winchester boys. New York was a place you loved, because it reminded you how big the world is, and whenever you felt small growing up in a small town, the city made you feel like you could take on anything, be it monsters, ghosts or even your own issues.

The last time you saw them was a few years back at Bobby's when you needed his and the boys help in finding your sister after a hunt went wrong. Thankfully they were there for you and like always, everyone worked well with each other.

Stevie shrugs off her faded large black jean jacket and drapes it over the back of the seat as she grabs two places at the counter. Your hands are still in your leather jacket pockets, still cold from the rainy and freezing atmosphere of Upstate.

"Those damn werewolves the other night...god it really tired me out." Your sister says sighing once she sits down on the cushioned seat.

"Yeah well we got the job done, that's how we do. On to the next." You smile smugly, turning your head to speak to a waitress. "Can we get two beers over here? Thanks."

"And two plates of fries!" Your sister adds.

Shifting around to lean your back against the counter, you peer out to the people sighing in annoyance. It was either too many people for your liking or you were sick being in these diners and even the road bars and being hit on way too much by men of all ages. It was rare to actually take a night off and get one of the men or women back into your motel for the night as Stevie hung around somewhere else.

But when you did get that night off, it was a great way to wind back and forget about the real shit that no one else but hunters can imagine.

Just as you were about to finish scanning the room you feel your sister nudge you. Turning back around to the counter you see your beer waiting nice and cold, water slipping down the bottle just waiting to be drunk. Drinking together was celebratory for your sister and you, and the only time you drank was whenever you beat the monsters with her. Other than that, you'd never drink.

“So,” Stevie begins, “Are we here for this vampire hunt or another one of your breaks?”

After gulping down a drastic amount of beer, you place it down on the counter then rest your elbows on the counter, as you stay leaning against it.

“If I’m lucky, maybe both.” You say sarcastically, raising your eyebrows up and down before rolling your eyes. “Nah, whenever we finish this hunt I thought you might like to do some tourist bullshit in the city. We deserve some bonding time that doesn’t involve hunting.”

Stevie gasps dramatically, “No motel hookups for you? That’s surprising.”

You laugh and hit her arm with the back of your arm.

“I don’t even need to doubt that you’re my sister. Anyways, yes we deserve an actual break. One that doesn’t include drinking to get drunk or waking up with a person you don’t even know.”

Stevie smiles and raises her beer bottle to you.

“To a well deserved break.”

You roll your eyes and grab your beer once you turn around, “To a well deserved break.”

Just across the diner sitting in a booth, Dean shifts in his seat once he eyes the back of you and your sister from afar, standing at the counter with your backs turned. The leather jacket clings to your body just like the light blue jeans you wear. He bites his bottom lip almost as if he was in agony as his eyes were glossing from the top of your head to your back and down to your ass as he checked you out.

He doesn’t know it was either of you, but all he sees are two hot women from behind and he slammed his beer down in smiles.

“Dude.” Sam looks up at his brother once he stands up from the booth.

“Sam, we are in freaking New York. The chicks out here know what they want.”

He fixes his jacket, popping up his collar and takes a step forward.

“We’re on a hunt! Besides, don’t be a creep, there’s families here.”

“Never stopped me before.” He slaps Sam on the shoulder. “There’s two of them and two of us. Let’s get some, Sammy!”

Stevie and you are drinking beers and discussing some book the two of you finally finished reading -- this was your favorite thing you and your sister shared, other than hunting, books were a good way to escape your harsh reality as a hunter.

“I don’t understand why she had to end up with him.” Stevie rolls her eyes. “I get the time period of it all, but surely she could’ve fucking been the one to end that gender role of marrying an asshole of a rich guy and be her own person? She was smart!”

“I don’t think that’s what it was about.” You say, tilting your head and looking around as you think about the book.

“Well, she didn’t have to marry him!”

“Well, she did.” You pat Stevie on her back in sarcastic comfort.

“It’s called Pride and Prejudice! How did that end up having a happy ending?” Stevie practically yells as she complains about Jane Austen’s book.

“Alright there, calm down.” You laugh. “I’m sure we can find a new book where the main girl doesn’t fall for a man and stays on her own.”

“Or better yet, falls in love with a woman. Could it kill these writers to have some or decent representation?”

“You’re not wrong there.”

“When am I ever wrong?” Stevie pridefully says, as she stuffs her face with french fries.

Before the conversation went further, you hear heavy footsteps coming from behind you. You were beginning to hope it wasn't anyone trying to hit on you or your sister and that it was just someone trying to order food or their check.

"So uh, what's the deal? You two best friends, sisters?" A gruff voice asks, attempting to flirt as he lets out a laugh. "My brother and I have a booth if you wanna join us, or you know a motel room eventually."

"Dude." You hear another voice say. "Seriously?"

"Uh- not together. No, nope that is so not what I meant."

You furrow your brows and let out a chuckle, turning around coming in contact with those wide greens eyes you know. The guy's cocky smile fades and his mouth goes ajar.

"Well shit, Sam and Dean." You raise your brows as your heart starts to pound just a tiny bit faster than normal. It's Dean. “Hi boys.”

"Hitting on women in a diner? Have you finally hit a low, Dean?" Stevie jabs at him, smiling and looking at Sam. "Has he?"

Her head tilts to Sam and they both laugh as they embrace each other in their arms for a warm, welcoming hug while laughing.

Dean is still stuck frozen once he has the realization it's you. Still in shock at the fact that he had embarrassingly flirted with the person he hadn’t seen in two years, someone he was a complete jerk to. Your eyes don't leave him and you both weren't so sure how to greet each other since the last time you saw him.

"Dean, I know you want to protect me but you forget I do the same thing you do. How can you be so stubborn?"

"Because I can't lose you and it's best that you go. This yellow eyed demon is no joke," he says your name and pleads. "If I can make sure you go, I can make sure that you and your sister are safe."

"But we're all family." You argue. "And family stays together, fights together."

"Family doesn't let family die."

"Which is why we won't leave you and Sam to do this on your own." You make a point but Dean shakes his head. "So that's that then? Won't let me help find your dad, the one who saved me and my sister's life? I owe it to him to help."

"He wouldn't want you to help."

"You don't know that."

"Of course I do! If my dad doesn't even want us looking why would he want you to risk your life?"

"Don't you see it Dean? You just said it yourself, don't be a hypocrite and don't you dare push me away. We've been through too much together, let me help. I love you, okay? I love Sam and I'd do anything for you guys."

"We can't keep doing what we're doing. I don't want to see you dead for me or for my dad."

Dean looks away as tears form in his eyes as he tries to ignore the three words you told him.

He rubs his hand over his face and through his short dirty blonde hair.

"I don't want to hurt you, but I'm doing this to keep you safe."

"But you are hurting me, Dean. My heart -- listen, please don't push me out. I'm a goddamn hunter this is what we do, it's just another case."

"It's not just another case. It’s better you're hurt and far away from me than dead because of me."

You look away from his eyes once the memory of your last encounter with him pops in your head. A smile forms on your face as your sister leaves Sam's embrace and nudges Dean in his arm to hug her. Dean looks away, pulls your sister in and smiles.

You roll your eyes at Sam's huge smile then engulf him in the biggest bear hug ever. You take a step back to lean against the bar again not wanting to embrace the guy who hurt you— the guy who was a hypocritical coward that night, even though you wanted nothing more to be in those arms again.

"It's good to see you. What's going on?" Sam says, pulling away and waiting for your sister and you to explain.

"How long has it been?" Dean clears his throat to pull himself together as you feel his eyes on you, but you're not sure how long you can stand it.

"Been too long." You smile sadly at him. "We just finished up a case back in California, bunch of werewolves."

"And you're here in Albany now, why so far?" Sam asks.

"Besides wanting to see the city again, I hear there's some vamp activity around town, so we figured to take a quick beer break and then dive right into research." Stevie explains.

"Well look at that." Dean smiles at Sam before glancing down at you and your sister. "We're already on it."

You furrow your brows, "aren't you gonna let us join you boys? For old times sake?"

You're not sure why you said it, because seeing Dean was something you weren't so sure you wanted. Of course you missed him, of course you wanted him back in your life...but knowing Dean, he'd be too stubborn to let that happen. But your thoughts were shaken by Dean accepting the offer.

"Hell yeah, let's do this and get this son of a bitch."

"There could be more than just one, Dean." Sam says, as Stevie and you laugh.

"Then...let's get these sons of bitches."

"Sam, I have so much shit to tell you." Stevie grabs Sam's arm and pulls him away towards the booth as she pats Dean on the shoulder when she walks by him. "Let's let them catch up."

You catch on to what your younger sister is doing, acting like she's in her teens again and playing matchmaker. You scoff as the two of them head back to the booth and geek out over previous cases they wished they could've done together. See those two were like the closest friends you'd ever seen, and despite Dean practically kicking you out and pushing you away, Sam and Stevie kept in touch.

"Those two," Dean sighs as he tries not to be awkward. "When are they gonna get together, am I right?"

Taking a step back to lean on the counter of the bar again, your brows furrow and you cringe at the thought.

"What? I'm serious."

"Dean, my sister is not into Sam."

"Oh come on, look at how she looks at him."

The two of you glance over at the booth to see them smiling brightly at each other, her eyes wide as she seems to be telling him a story. You scoff and lift the beer up to your mouth and scoff. Dean leans next to you, staring with a questionable look.

"Gosh, you are so damn oblivious. You think you'd know someone practically your entire life and they don't know..."

He looks at you trying to understand, his eyebrows raised while his mouth goes slightly agape.

"My god Dean, she's into women!"

You stare at Dean's face as he's trying to figure it out, then frowns while nodding his head while with a small smile.

"Makes sense."

"Oh does it now?" You laugh. "And how exactly does that make sense?"

"I'm just saying, I mean there was that one time she got mad at me for checking out a college chick. She knocked me in the face, remember? I thought it was because I was supposed to be focusing on the case, but I guess not. Maybe she was jealous-”

"My god."

The conversation ends in laughter, awkwardly of course, as you both stand there at the counter drinking and letting your siblings catch up. You are beginning to feel overwhelmed by his presence and you try and take a few steps forward before he catches onto your wrist with urgency.

"Listen," Dean starts as he says your name. "The last time we spoke-"

"We don't need to talk about it." You get out of his soft grasp , down your beer then slam it on the counter.

"But-"

You smile bitterly, "It's all good! Once this case is over you don't gotta ever see me again like we discussed."

And with that, you walk towards the booth where your sister and Sam hang out eager to get the night and case over with.

Most of the night in the diner goes smoothly as you all get caught up with each other's lives and the cases you've been on since the last time you saw each other.

"How's uh, life been going?" Dean raises his brows in your direction as he stands up and sits in your side of the booth, after you sit back down from letting your sister out of the booth. Sam and her go to grab more beer for the four of you, leaving Dean and you alone yet again.

"Like always it's been...well you know how it is." You roll your eyes. "Been chasing cases and never really stopping."

"Looks like you were stopping tonight."

"Having a drink before another case? I don't think so. The last time I stopped hunting it wasn't so fun."

"Why's that? Finished all the beer in the town you were in?"

"Very funny Dean."

He sits back in the seat and rests his arm on top of the booth which are a few inches away from your shoulders. You shift in your seat, feeling uneasy because of the awkwardness. That, or because of the fluttering butterflies you got when he was near you.

"Hey, I'm just saying. Our breaks don't get to be fun, or even relaxing. Lucky we get a few hours of sleep at most, or something else." He wiggles his brows. "There wasn't anything fun to do besides hunting?"

"After the last time we saw each other...you know. Us hunters don't get breaks, remember? I kept working case after case, drinking even though I didn't like it I even went back to motels with different people I would never even talk to again."

Dean furrows her brows in question, "Different people?"

"I tell you all that and that's what you take from it? Dumbass."

"Sorry, I just didn't-"

"Know. That's alright, I never told anyone. I didn't think it made a difference from who I am, you know? Anyways, besides being bisexual Dean, I was a wreck. My sister really helped me but I don't think I'm over things."

He leans forward and reaches his hand out for you.

"Listen-”

"Dean, I'm serious when I say we don't need to talk about what happened. It's over with and after this case I was-"

"Look, my dad died." Dean begins to explain but you cut him off again.

"I heard," your head drops down and away from his gaze, but your hand finds him on the table. "I'm sorry I didn't call. I took it serious when you told me to stay away."

"It's alright, I guess I kind of deserve that." He shrugs. "But I need you to listen to me when I say the things I said to you then.. you didn't deserve me yelling in your face and saying harsh shit. I just wanted to keep you and your sister safe, away from that demon."

You raise your head and turn back to look at him in slight disbelief.

"I've handled a demon or two before Dean."

"Not this one, this one had yellow eyes and was too powerful and dangerous. I couldn't get you mixed up with that and I couldn't put you at risk."

"But why Dean? I really don't understand why you wanted to push me away?"

You were too scared to admit to yourself that maybe it was because he really did love you. Although it was unsaid, you both knew the feelings you held for each other were real and they were there. But to say it out loud? That was something else.

He stutters but words don't come out.

"Forget it." You say, as you see Sam and your sister walking back to the booth.

"I do want to fix things." Dean quickly says before his brother and your sister come back to join you guys.

Your eyes stay fixed on him as he drinks away the beer and plays around with the new plate of fries you know Dean and your sister wanted. The conversation gets away from the both of you, and instead Sam and your sister spend the most time talking and occasionally poking fun at Dean and his moments from the past.

The four of you leave the diner and make it back to a motel not so far from where it is. You drive the truck you've had for a few months with your sister in the passenger seat, following the impala to the motel.

"So, did it feel awkward?"

"What?" You ask your sister glancing from her then to the road.

"Seeing Dean again." She shrugs. "I mean the last time we saw them, he basically screamed and kicked your ass out on the curb."

"Our asses." You say. "That was what, two years ago? It didn't... feel awkward... it just felt sad. I'm sure you felt the same."

"Yes, but that's different. I'm not sad like how you are because I'm not the one who's in love with one of them."

"I'm not in love with Dean." You sigh in annoyance, even though you know she's right and made a good point but you wouldn't ever admit it.

“I never said Dean.”

You scold at Stevie and grip the steering wheel tightly, “My statement still stands.”

"Sure." She mutters.

You pull up next to the impala in a parking space and roll your eyes as you grab your bag and make way to get a room for your sister and you. As you all get settled down in your rooms, you meet back in the Winchester's room and pile on the books and research. All in unsettling silence or an occasional info dump from Sam or Stevie, you and Dean would steal glances at each other. After an hour or so of research your sister and you took a vending machine break and let the boys read this time (the last time you worked on a real case with them, you were stuck with the pile of books so it was only right).

A bit later you came back into the motel and the atmosphere between the brothers were off as Dean looked agitated and a bit exhausted. Without figuring out what was happening like you used to do, you let things go and decided that you and Sam would leave and pick up food for everyone, leaving your sister with Dean to research more through books and the laptop.

Sam decided he wanted to drive, so he took the keys to the Impala and Dean didn't even protest against it. Once the two of you arrive back at the twenty-four hour diner, Sam orders inside a bunch of mixed foods; breakfast stuff and coffees for everyone just in case you all wouldn't get a chance to eat breakfast in a few hours. The two of you wait outside for the food, holding paper cups of coffee as you stand by the impala.

"What's up with Dean, Sam?" You lean on the impala as Sam and you wait for the food you're picking up for everyone. "Eager to have us join this case and work together? What's next, singing kumbaya in a bar or around a damn campfire?"

Sam looks down on the ground for a moment as if he's hesitating, thinking of a way to tell you without being the one to break your heart.

"You know how Dean is...protective." Sam says as you nod your head.

"Oh I know," your eyes go wide, "which is why he doesn't seem like his one hundred percent self tonight."

Sam stays silent for a few minutes, as you were staring up at him painterly waiting for him to answer.

"Well?" You plead.

"His time..." Sam is hesitant, unsure if he should be telling you his brother's truth. "His time is running up and he did it for me."

"Time is running up? What the fuck does that mean?"

"He made a deal with a demon."

"He made a deal with a goddamn demon?" Your pulse begins to quicken as your face scrunches as panic rises in your throat.

"He's got a year to live and if he tries to stop it he'll die right then and there."

"A year?" Your voice trembles as your words barely make it out your mouth. Backing away from Sam you hear him try to console you but your hand goes up and he stops walking.

"What a way to reunite.” You close your eyes and shake your head. “Fuck.”

Your mind is racing with thoughts and your heart begins to break, knowing that Dean and you might never get a chance ever.

"Wait, is that why he let us join this case?"

Sam nods with empathy, "Probably. I think this is probably a way to make amends with you, make things right before he you know...dies."

"Fucking dick." You scoff. "So he just thinks just because he's gonna die that I'll forgive him? Why is he so selfish?"

"Look, he took a deal with a crossroads demon. My life, for his. I'm upset, angry too but you know how Dean is."

"Yeah he's a dumbass." You sit back onto the impala and bite your lip to stop yourself from crying.

Sam scoffs, "yeah, he is. He did it for me but I just can't help but feel like I need to save his life now."

"Can we?" You ask him quickly. "Is there anything I can do to help, to help save him before his time is up?"

"We could hunt the demon down. But look, I know Dean wouldn't want me anywhere near this, and if he finds out that you know, things will be different."

"As if it isn't already."

"I know it hurts and I know all about what happened, trust me I've tried talking to him about it. I know he's only got a year but if he wants to be at peace with the people in his life the least you can do is hear him out. I'm serious when I say give him-"

"I'll listen, but I want to talk to him." You stand up and make your way to the passenger side and open the car door, resting on top as you wait for Sam.

"About it all, everything."

"Yeah, okay. But what about the case?"

"We'll work in teams. Watch out for my sister, she'll watch out for you. Dean and I will go together and I'll talk to him then."

You sit down in the car and slam the door, slightly cursing to yourself that it might've been too hard. But then you remember Dean isn't driving — he won't know. Sam gets in the car and starts her up.

"He'll try and talk you out of it all. Dean...he's pretty adamant about wanting to be saved. If he.. if he even goes near trying to get out of the deal, he'll die. We all know how he is, with or without this deal he's protective and never wants people he cares about to get in danger because of him. And I agree with that sometimes.”

You stay quiet.

“Look, you're family and I can't let you and your sister just let everything go and help us."

You furrow your brows at him almost as if you're about to scold him, but also because you're starting to feel worried.

He says your name, “just because I'm not the one you love doesn't mean I won't be as protective as him. Talk to him if you want, just know his mind is pretty much set on this deal."

You look down in your lap and play with your fingers as you anxiously think about Dean's deal and wanting to talk to him. After Sam explains that he's pretty straight on the deal, it makes you nervous to tell him you know. You nod your head then turn to look out the window as he begins to drive back to the motel. The more you began to think, the more worried you were on how you were going to focus on this case and even muster up the courage to confront Dean about the past, his deal and the things unresolved between the two of you.

TAGLISt: (if you wanan be added just let me know and I’ll add you to future chapters!!!)

@akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @canonboobs @vikkiwalker

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tae-cup · 4 years

Text

The Chief | Night Terrors (1)

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Summary: The prestigious department of police and investigations in Seoul, Korea, is called to the small town of Cape Springs in rural California. Nothing is quite what it seems here.

Warnings: Blood, violence, you know crime stuff? Fluffy stuff somehow

Genre: Mystery, Crime, Angst, a lil humor, sexual innuendos, BUT I DON’T WRITE SMUT OKAY

Word Count: 7.2k Words (Holy guacamole. This took forever to write.)

A/N: Let me know your thoughts! Any suspects? Just message me if you want to be tagged! I’m sorry there’s literally no Reader in here, but she’s coming in next chapter, I swear. No, you did not stumble upon an x OC fic, and no I did not tag this wrong, just bear with me XD. Please please read this one, it sets up some good background.

Thank you so much to @seokjinsultimatesimp / @kingbewwy for helping with my story planning and ideas!!

Beautiful header by the wonder @dee-ehn / @dnrequests

Other:

Series Masterlist

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The flight was long. Long, tiring, and utterly boring. Jungkook knew he should have packed something to do on the plane. He had been dependent on the movies in first class and reclining chairs to pass the time. Well, now he was halfway through his fourth movie and sleep was nowhere in sight. Yoongi was quiet across the aisle from him and Taehyung was watching a movie next to him with some snacks he raided from the service cart. Not wanting to bother either of them for entertainment, especially Yoongi, he decided to sit in silence. The movie was getting boring so he turned it off and prayed sleep would arrive.

It did not.

He arrived, jet lagged and lacking 13 hours of sleep.

“Did you sleep?” Taehyung tilted his head as they stood to collect their belongings from the baggage claim. The boy just tiredly shook his head.

“Hah, guess we’ll have to be getting you coffee!” Seokjin chuckled, having slept most of the flight in peace. Yoongi, despite sleeping for the entire 13 hours, still looked exhausted. The others just seemed focused on getting their luggage and leaving. They had a lot of suitcases to store their equipment. Jungkook rolled his eyes at his older counterpart.

“I’m fine.” But as he said it, a huge yawn ripped from his chest. Jin grinned, but didn’t mention it as Jungkook’s ears started turning red with embarrassment.

“Guys, we have to get going.” Namjoon announced.

“Aye aye, chief.” Jimin saluted cheekily. Namjoon just pressed his lips into a thin line, not amused. The younger male just sighed and nudged the police chief. “You really need to loosen up.”

“And you need to remember that we’re here to solve a murder.”

“Even better! It’s several murders!” Taehyung chirped, earning a glare from his superior, Yoongi.

“Aish, you kids.” Hoseok scratched his head. “You shouldn’t be excited that a bunch of people are dead.” He muttered.

“Sorry, hyung, we just rarely get cases that Joonie agrees to investigate. How else am I supposed to keep up with Yoongi if I never get any experience?” Taehyung glared right back at Yoongi. The older man muttered something under his breath and dragged the younger away by his collar.

“Where are they going?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow. He was still trying to get used to the group dynamics and while he wasn’t entirely innocent, he tried to fill up that role in the meantime. The other members looked at each other, sharing a knowing smile.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Kookie.” Jimin winked. “He’s probably...teaching Taehyung his place.”

“Oh…” Jungkook tilted his head, trying to make the connections. “So like yelling? Hyung could’ve just done it here. I mean, he does that all the time!”

Jimin exchanged a look with Jin. Jin shook his head, Jimin smiled.

“Kookie, no, Yoongi’s going to-”

“Oh my god, he’s too innocent.” Jin cried, rushing to cover the maknae’s ears.

“Too innocent for what?” A lazy drawl came across the group, making Jin and Jimin jump. Namjoon chuckled and Hoseok pretended to be distracted on his phone, only stealing a quick glance up.

Yoongi’s hair was messy, as if hands ran through them several times. His lips were swollen and he had a large dark spot on his neck, which he quickly covered with his shirt collar when he saw them staring. Taehyung trailed behind him, dazed. He looked relatively the same. Jungkook jumped into action, shoving Jin away.

“Oi! Yoongi-hyung, I know you wanted to teach Tae a lesson, but isn’t that too rough?!” He shouted pointing at the other’s ‘bruise’. Hoseok began giggling and Yoongi turned impossibly red.

“Oh yeah, he taught me a lesson for sure.” Taehyung chuckled. Jungkook gaped, eyes flicking between the two.

“But he didn’t need to beat you up! Why are your lips swollen and there’s obviously a bruise on your neck!”

Yoongi began laughing softly and Taehyung’s ears went red. Namjoon sighed and dragged Jin over to help load the car. Hoseok was quick to follow, leaving Jimin to watch the scene unfold.

“We didn’t beat each other up.” Yoongi explained with a grin.

“So someone else did?!” Jungkook’s nostrils flared with anger. “Where?!”

“Slow down, coffee boy.” Taehyung said, amused by his younger friend. “You wouldn’t be able to fight anyone off.”

“Okay fine, but I could hold my own!”

The two began to open their mouths to respond when Namjoon shouted at the remaining four.

“Get over here! We’ve got a long ride.”

Jungkook rubbed his temples, scrunching his eyebrows up in distress. “Fine, I’ll drop it, but you better tell me soon.” He said in a huff and stomped off to the van, leaving Jimin, Yoongi, and Taehyung to burst out laughing while the youngest pretended not to hear them.

The town of Cape Springs was old. Old as in ‘stuck in a total time warp’ old. It looked like nothing had been updated since 1950. The van felt out of place, despite the various modern vehicles littering the road. Main street was all one story, one street. The boys looked peered curiously out the windows. The town could be considered charming if it weren’t for the murders happening every Saturday.

A stomach growled from somewhere in the van and it set everyone else off.

“You know, I’m kinda hungry, Joonie.” Taehyung said. “I missed breakfast on the plane.” He complained.

“Yeah, me too.” Yoongi agreed reluctantly.

“You slept the entire time, you lazy ass. What are you even using all that energy for?” Hoseok snorted.

“Thinking, you dumbass.” Yoongi retorted. “Unlike what you do all day, I actually use my brain.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Head Investigator.” Hoseok said, clearly annoyed by his comments.

“Yoongi and Taehyung aren’t the only ones.” Namjoon finally gave in, tired of listening to them bicker. It often felt like babysitting children and not a team of well trained detectives, investigators, and policemen.

Then there was the actual child of the group, 24 year old Jungkook. He was far too innocent for someone of that age, to his hyungs, having grown up around the protective nature of the other boys. Jin pulled into an open spot and parked the car. Taehyung and Jimin threw open the door, rushing to get outside and tumbling out in a heap. The other men chuckled at their antics.

“You clumsy idiots!” Yoongi reprimanded, climbing out and helping them up nonetheless. Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Jimin just pouted. The townspeople passing by were quiet, eyes trying not to stare at the obvious newcomers.

“Let’s go to this diner.” Namjoon said, pointing to a faded sign that read Betty’s Diner. Jin’s eyes surveyed the street. Despite their being people with modern clothing and devices, it still felt like they were transported back to the 1950s.

“It’s not like there’s much of an option.” Jungkook pointed out, gesturing around the small mainstreet. It was either Betty’s Diner or Isabella’s Ice Cream Parlour and there was only one that held savory food. Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Hoseok fought to get through the doorway at the same time, earning an annoyed look from the locals inside.

“Great, we’re making such a nice first impression.” Yoongi mused, gazing at the four men arguing at the door. Namjoon tried to soothe the wrinkles between his brow as he nodded along.

“You guys are going to give me wrinkles before I’m 40.” The police chief sighed.

When they could finally sit, they were put at a table in the back. The diner had to move several tables and chairs together in order to accommodate. As they ordered, they didn’t even notice the dirty looks they were getting. Seven new, rowdy, men have arrived in town. That could only mean trouble.

“I do not snore.” Namjoon said, offended.

“You do too!” Jin fired back. “I sat next to you for 13 hours and god knows how many nights I’ve spent in your-”

“That’s enough!” He cried, exasperated. The poor man was always under scrutiny from his partners. He loved them all dearly, but dear god it could be a lot to handle. Jin frowned and huffed, looking away.

“One order of french toast and orange juice.” A waiter interrupted, tone harsh. The group turned to him, surprised. The name tag read ‘Hak-kun’.

“Here.” Taehyung raised his hand awkwardly after a brief silence. The waiter let out an annoyed sigh and practically threw the plate down with the glass.

Taehyung cautiously pulled the plate toward him and the other men eyed Hak-kun. The waiter stormed away without another word. The cook was watching him, everyone in the diner was watching him. There was muffled shouting and next thing they see is Hak-kun is when he’s leaving, throwing his uniform apron onto the ground in frustration. The locals stared before going into a muttering frenzy. Anger issues….always fired...psycho...etc etc.

“Should I have gotten pancakes instead?” Taehyung asked after a tense silence. Yoongi narrowed his eyes.

“Obviously. Who eats french toast for lunch?” He scoffed.

“Pancakes aren’t exactly a lunch food either.” Jin piped up.

“But at least they fit into a category.” Yoongi started, ready to rant. “They know their place. They’re a breakfast food! French toast is like in mealtime limbo. Nobody ever wants french toast just for breakfast; they can also have it for lunch and dinner!”

Jimin was in a fit of laughter at the usually subdued man’s outburst.

“Think they poisoned it?” Jungkook playfully nudged Taehyung who grumbled something under his breath. It sounded an awful lot like ‘They might’ve’. Lunch continued as normal. Yoongi sat in silence for the rest of the time while Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin made the group laugh with their antics.

The police station was dusty. Old and dusty, looking like a ghost town. Namjoon peered inside, glancing around to see a bored desk attendant. He waved, but the attendant even spare him a glance. Jin cleared his throat. The attendant jumped, looking up with dazed eyes.

“Oh, hello? Has there been an emergency?” He asked with a questioning gaze. The seven men shifted awkwardly.

“Uh, hello, we’re from the Bangtan police department. Were you not expecting us? We can come back at another time-” Namjoon began and the man quickly stood.

“No! Not at all! Sorry, it’s been slow recently.”

The men exchanged glances.

“But...there have been a lot of murders recently, have there not?” Yoongi tilted his head. The man was sweating and they couldn’t tell if it was because it was hot or because he was guilty of something. Of course, Yoongi and Taehyung tended to intimidate people, it was part of their job, so that could also be the issue.

“Yes! That’s why you’re here. Uh, I’ll grab the chief.” The man quickly left, rushing into the back. He opened a door into the backroom and loud talking could be heard before it was muffled once more by the door.

Namjoon looked lazily down at his watch, Jungkook tapped his foot nervously, Yoongi was whispering with Taehyung, Jimin was giggling about something with Hoseok, and Jin kept his eyes trained on the door.

A pudgy man walked through the door, a faded blue officer uniform on. He took in the men standing in his station, then looked uneasily back at the attendant. They exchanged looks and then the attendant scurried back to the desk, shrinking in his seat. The chief smiled at the men.

“Hello boys!” He said cheerfully. “Welcome, welcome! When did you get in?” He ushered them into the back where there were empty desks lined up next to each other. Dust hung in the air, only seen in the thin streams of light coming through the slats in the windows.

“We arrived a few hours ago, we ate at Betty’s Diner.” Namjoon said. The others nodded along with the statement. The police chief’s eyes sparkled.

“Ah, great food yeah?”

“Definitely!” Taehyung piped up, only to be nudged hard by Yoongi. Despite being part of Yoongi’s investigative team, he had trouble reading the room. The chief seemed cheerful but there was an odd cloud of tension.

“What’s your name, sir?” Namjoon cut in.

“Oh right, you can call me Officer Nam.” He held out his hand and Jin reached forward, shaking it.

“Officer Kim Seokjin, but I go by Jin.” Jin introduced himself.

“You can call me Namjoon.” The younger man smiled, taking Officer Nam’s hand after Jin and gave him a firm shake. Before the office could respond, the other men were taking his hand, shaking it and introducing themselves.

“Officer Min, head of investigations.”

“Oh don’t mind the grump, I’m Officer Kim, but just call me Taehyung. This dumbo is Yoongi.” The energetic man shook Officer Nam’s hand several times excitedly.

“Hoseok.” The other officer was formally trained. He gave Nam a firm handshake, his grip like iron.

“I’m Jimin, pleasure to meet you sir.” The smaller man smiled widely. Officer Nam returned the smile warily. “That’s Jungkook.” He nodded towards the younger boy who had fallen silent. “He’s training with us, he’s mostly here to observe the process.”

“Sorry, we can be a bit much in the beginning.” Jin said. It didn’t take a detective to see that Officer Nam was overwhelmed.

“Oh it’s quite alright. There hasn’t been much we’ve been able to figure out much information with these murders. People are on edge, ya know? They clam up, won’t talk much.” Officer Nam explained. “We often leave it to our intern to handle public affairs, she’s more versed in...talkin’ to people.”

“Intern?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow, speaking for the first time. The officer seemed surprised to see him standing there, but nodded nonetheless.

“She’s studyin’ to be an interrogation officer and needs some experience with a more experienced crew than us. The town is usually quiet.”

“I see.” Namjoon murmured.

“She won’t get in yer way!” Nam exclaimed, shaking his head. “She’s just a little shy.”

“Where is she?” Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well, she should be clocking in right about...now.” The office glanced at his watch. As if on cue, the door squeaked open.

“Officer Nam? I’m here!” A soft voice called into the station. The men whirled around to see a small girl. She looked almost fragile with dark hair and a lithe frame. She looked startled to see the seven brooding men. “Sorry!” She squeaked, ready to flee the room.

“Actually!” Officer Nam interrupted, halting her in her tracks. “Come here, I want to introduce you to Bangtan Police.”

She tentatively walked in. She looked like prey walking into a lion’s den; and she could’ve been with the way they were looking at her.

“Yes?” She shakily pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“This is Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Taehyung, Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook. They’re from The Bangtan Police Department and I’d like you to spend the remaining time in your work study with them to help solve this case.”

“W-why?” She turned, alarmed, to look at her superior.

“Because they have much more experience and you haven’t gotten much experience with us here.” He explained, his gaze filled with something akin to fatherly love. “Now, introduce yourself.” He nudged her towards them.

The girl looked up hesitantly. Her gaze flickered away quickly, despite the encouraging smiles on their faces.

“I’m Hae-won.” She murmured. “It’s a pleasure to meet you and I hope we can work well together.”

The boys were already swooning, hearts beating loudly. Once the chief left to discuss details with Namjoon, the boys split off to look around. Jungkook immediately took a place next to Hae-won.

“Hey, Hae-won.” He grinned. She flushed and looked away. He was reminded of Y/N, but Hae-won was 10x shyer it seemed. “Wanna show me around?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Now come on, how are you going to be an interrogation officer if people can barely hear you? Speak up.” He teased. Hae-won looked up startled, eyes wide.

“Oh right, yeah, that.” She murmured, more to herself than anything, but Jungkook heard it.

“Do you not want to be an interrogation officer? That’s perfectly fine, y’know?” Jungkook paid no mind to her confused expression. “It’s not perfect for everyone.”

“Hm.” She didn’t seem amused, just lost in thought. She seemed to notice the awkward pause, however, because she tugged on his arm. “Right, let me show you my favorite part of this station!”

As Jungkook was dragged away, Yoongi spoke with Jin.

“The people here are...odd.” the paler man spoke.

“It’s a small town, Yoongles.” Jin said.

“I guess...and don’t call me that.”

“What?”

“Yoongles.” The man scoffed. Jin swatted his arm.

“Now, is that anyway to talk to your hyung?” The older man teased.

In the corner, Taehyung and Jimin were looking around the empty station.

“Where is everyone?” Taehyung scrunched his nose, trying not to sneeze as a plume of dust flew into his face. Jimin ran his finger along the edge of a desk, tilting his head as he looked at the fine layer of grime on his finger.

“Not sure. Maybe it’s just an off day.” Jimin shrugged, wiping his finger off on his pants.

“I mean, why have all these desks if you don’t use them?”

“Hae-won suggested we get them.” Officer Nam said, arms crossed as he appeared in the doorway. Taehyung jumped, goosebumps running up his arms as Jimin tapped his foot nervously.

“Why?” The detective asked.

“She said ‘just in case’.” The officer mimicked the young girl. They surveyed the room. Eight desks.

“Hm. Interesting.”

Officer Nam just shrugged nonchalantly. “That girl can be a little weird sometimes. She’s too eager, too soft for this line of work.”

“I’m sure she’ll get the hang of it.” Taehyung suddenly felt the need to defend the poor girl. Officer Nam’s lips slid into a sleazy grin.

“I see.” He said.

“Let’s split up.” Namjoon announced upon arrival. The alleyway was in a rather shady part of the town. There was fresh blood on the stones, a smear on the pavement, an arc of blood across the wall. None of them even flinched, not even Hae-won.

“I’ll take Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jimin.” Jin said. “Let’s look over the crime scene.”

Taehyung nodded, pulling out his camera to take pictures. Yoongi crouched near the blood smear on the pavement and Jimin wandered around, handing them gloves and then running his hands over every seam in the wall.

Namjoon took Hae-won, Hoseok, and Jungkook to interview witnesses and the surrounding townspeople.

Jimin knelt on the ground, hand running over a soft texture. Curious, he carefully picked up the object. In his hand was a soft tie, one that looked oddly familiar. He lifted it to the air, examining it in the fading sunlight. It looked new, not exactly a week old. It was possible that it was planted there, but he needed to bring it in nonetheless. The pink haired man took out a ziploc bag and placed the tie inside of it before sealing it up once more.

“Who was the victim and how was she found?” Hoseok asked, holding a notepad and pen. Officer Nam scratched his head for a minute before walking over to the spot.

“Right here.” He gestured to where a pool of blood was at the end of the blood streak. “She was leanin’ up against this wall, throat slit as y’know.”

“Mhm.” There was the scratch of the cheap pen against the notepad as Hoseok wrote down his words. “What was her name?”

“Mun-hee.”

“Great. Thank you for your cooperation, if you have any further information, please do tell us.” Hoseok dipped his head. Hae-won observed from a distance, standing next to Namjoon as he explained the process to her.

“So Hoseok here is going to ask the most important question first and then go on to specifics. Pleasantries aren’t too necessary until the end. He’ll close with a polite statement and leave.” The chief said as they watched the interaction. “In fact, here he comes now.”

Hoseok waved at the two and winked at Hae-won. “Didya learn anything?”

“Uh, yeah.” Hae-won smiled anxiously under his gaze and he laughed. Namjoon pulled at them to regroup with the others as night drew nearer.

The next day, they decided to have a formal meeting to discuss the situation.

“So, we have Mun-hee, killed and placed in the exact same way as Jane Doe.” Jin laid out the facts. “She even looked a bit like Jane Doe. Were they relatives?”

“No.” Hoseok shook his head.

“I found a tie at the scene.” Jimin held up the plastic bag. Hae-won looked on curiously. Now Jimin had their attention. “It looks familiar, I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“That’s from Betty’s Diner.” Hae-won interrupted. “I recognize it and I think it’s Hak-kun’s.”

“Why?” Namjoon turned to look at the small girl. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Well, he didn’t show up for work so I’m guessing he quit. He called me before that to say he lost his tie and broke down because his boss scolded him for forgetting to wear it.” She mused to herself before straightening again. “Those are just speculations.”

The chief of Bangtan smiled at her with a nod of approval. Even Yoongi quirked an eyebrow, Taehyung mimicked his expression. She was wary of the two of them. It always felt like they could see right through her.

“Listen, it’s Friday. The killer strikes again tomorrow and if it’s Hak-kun, then we need to bring him into custody.” Yoongi said factually.

“Are you seriously going to gamble people’s lives? What if it’s not him? Then we have no one watching out for the killer because we’re all trying to watch him.” Hoseok looked appalled at the suggestion.

“Listen, I’m fine with that. We could see if there’s a pattern.” Yoongi shrugged.

“There are people’s lives at risk here!” Hoseok shouted, slamming a fist onto the table. The other members jumped, surprised to see Hoseok so worked up.

“Jeez, you cops always get so worked up about people’s lives.” Yoongi said with a groan.

“You’re technically a cop too, ya know?” The man sighed and slouched in his chair, defeated.

“He has a point.” Taehyung piped up, earning a glare from his mentor. Instead of cowering back, as per usual, he jutted out his chin and continued. “Besides, don’t you think these murders are just too...delicate? Too well thought out for someone who’s doing this simply out of a moment of anger.”

“We still can’t discount the fact that his tie was found at the crime scene. That’s damning evidence.” Jin jumped in.

There was a tense silence, Yoongi and Taehyung exchanging warring glares and Jin now staring intensely at Hoseok. A muscle in Taehyung’s jaw twitched uncontrollably. Namjoon’s gaze swept the room before he slowly stood, hands pressing to the table.

“I say we bring him in for questioning. We don’t have to guard him if we just put him in a cell overnight.” He said, trying to reach a conclusion both sides would agree with. Jimin, who hadn’t spoken his opinion, just watched as the team was already divided.

“Doesn’t it feel like the killer is toying with us?” He murmured, but with the silence in the room, everyone heard.

“What do you mean by that, Jiminie?” Hoseok turned his attention away from Jin. His movement stirred the other members to look at him, Hae-won remained silent.

“Mun-hee is found in the exact same situation as Jane Doe, as if the killer expected us and wanted to put on a show. A show of power. They’re saying ‘look, I did it once, I can do it again, and stump you every time.’ A subtle fuck you.” Jimin’s eyes darkened. The other men visibly stiffened, looking around nervously.

“But how would they know?” Namjoon asked.

“Small town, word spreads fast.” Taehyung said dryly.

“That doesn’t narrow anything down.” Jin sighed, running a hand down his face in exasperation.

“Well, actually,” Jungkook piped up. The attention turned to him and he swallowed, suddenly nervous. “Eye witness accounts say they saw a ‘strange man’ walking around.” He spoke, tapping his pen against the notepad in front of him. They pondered over this discovery.

“Hak-kun fits that.” Taehyung muttered, saying what was on the others’ minds.

“Just because he’s a man?” Hae-won scoffed, a sudden hard tone to her voice that had Jungkook turning to look at her, surprised. She quickly cleared her throat, returning to the quiet voice she usually had. “I mean, I just, I don’t know if that’s enough information, but with his tie, I think it’s a good idea to investigate him.”

“Right.” Namjoon nodded, rubbing his chin with his fingers. “Well, we’ll bring him in, get a warrant for his arrest, there’s substantial evidence, and interview him. Any objections?”

The six men’s eyes scanned the room before they all nodded. They waited, staring expectantly at Hae-won. She flushed a bright red from being thrusted into the spotlight.

“Y-yeah. That sounds great.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. They all smiled fondly at her.

“Saturday, the countdown begins.” Jin mused, picking up his watch from his bedside table.

“You’re setting a bad example, joking about these murders.” Namjoon sighed, rolling over, throwing an arm around the older man. The tips of Jin’s ears went red, goosebumps rolling up and down his body.

“Joonie, some people have a sense of humor.” He snorted, turning over to face the man next to him. He placed his hands on either side of Namjoon’s face and slowly leaned in. The chief met the distance, lips brushing Jin’s. Then the chief smiled, pulling away to look at his second in command. He loved this man.

“I have a great sense of humor, I fell in love with you after all.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended or touched by your proclamation of love.” Jin huffed, shifting to sit up, hotel blankets pooling around his waist.

“You’re unfair, Jin.” Namjoon murmured. “So handsome and, fuck.” He sighed, obviously conflicted.

“We already know I’m the handsomest, Joonie.”

“But how did you end up with a mess like me? Sometimes you handle the children better than me, and I’m supposed to be the police chief!”

“They just need a little mothering. And don’t underestimate yourself, I’m sure a person like Y/N would throw herself at you if she got the chance, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Jin laughed, getting up and pulling on his suit.

It was sort of a uniform, black linen pants and a white button up. This was paired with a navy blue suit jacket that had his badge in the pocket. He went to the bathroom to comb his hair and brush his teeth, mumbling something about there being a lack of room service at this motel. Namjoon just chuckled at his grumbling and got dressed as well. He wore black pants, like Jin, and a white button up shirt, except his suit jacket was a faded brown.

“You always bring up Y/N, it’s almost like you like her too.” Namjoon pointed an accusing finger at his partner.

“And what if I did?”

“Well it would be unfair because I met her first.”

“You can’t just claim women, Joonie.” He rolled his eyes and opened the heavy hotel room door.

“I’ll do what I want.”

“You say that now, but we all know she has you whipped.”

“Who has who whipped?” Jungkook’s curious voice echoed through the hallway. Jin spun on his heel to face the maknae.

“Now look what you’ve done.” Jin glared at Namjoon who just shrugged innocently.

“I’m just kidding.” Jungkook sighed. “I’m not as innocent as you guys think I am.” He wandered down the stairs, finally getting tired of acting dumb, the Chief and Second in Command now following him.

“Elaborate.” Namjoon demanded.

“Oh please, you guys actually bought that I was that oblivious?” He sat down, ignoring the other men at the table whose conversation came to a halt at the sight of them.

“Well, I-” Jin’s face was red.

“Come on, I know Taehyung and Yoongi are practically eye fucking each other every minute and quite literally fucking each other every night. Please keep it down guys.” The youngest pointed a finger at the two men sitting next to each other. They looked away with a huff, but their faces were red.

“And You two.” He turned to Namjoon and Jin. “You make me sick, really. You’re so cute and reliable. Then you go and flaunt your cuteness to everyone. We all see it! Hoseok and Jimin-guys, just ask each other out already!”

There was a long silence. Jungkook shrunk back in his seat, bravado gone, now worried he took it a little too far.

“Kookie, you’re not aware of the full story here.” Namjoon chuckled after a tense moment, the noise echoed by the other men at the table.

“You really want to tell him?” Jin eyed Joon warily.

“It’s time he knows.” Taehyung sighed.

“What? Know what?” Jungkook felt the bubble of envy in his stomach. They kept so many things from him; little secret, jokes. One time they forgot to invite Jungkook to his own surprise party.

“Well,” Jimin reached out and grabbed Namjoon’s hand. “We’re actually...all together already.”

“Oh.” The younger’s voice was soft, trying not to betray the emotions flowing through him. They were all dating? And without him? Was he fucking seventh wheeling??? “Without me?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

Jin started laughing his windshield wiper laugh as Hoseok smiled. Taehyung and Yoongi exchanged glances.

“That was an unexpected answer.” Yoongi muttered under his breath.

“That’s what we wanted to talk about this morning.” Jimin said soothingly, touch relaxing Jungkook easily. “We want you to join us.”

“R-really?”

“Yes.” Taehyung nodded quickly.

“Is that a yes?” Hoseok asked, watching Jungkook’s mouth open and close. The sounds of the guests around him went underwater. He couldn’t hear anything, emotions spiraling out of control. All six of them? It was insane. But then he couldn’t imagine himself anywhere else.

“Yes.” He said quietly. “Yes!” He said again, louder. Namjoon smiled, cupping his chin with his slender fingers.

“Then, may I?” He asked for permission softly.

Jungkook simply nodded and Namjoon tentatively placed his lips against his. It was quick, brief, one might even think it was an accident if it hadn’t been for Namjoon’s hand on his chin.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, baby, it’s just that...this is a small town. That’s why we’re trying not to be very open.”

“Oh, I see.” Jungkook refused to pout. He wanted to have some big romantic story, but that would have to wait. They were trying to solve a series of murders, dammit.

“We should get going.” Yoongi glanced at his watch and the others agreed, standing and taking their suit jackets off the backs of their chairs.

The morning breakfast rush had dissipated, now only the metal containers of bacon and eggs left. The place was just as dusty as the police station and it made Jungkook’s nose twitch with the urge to sneeze.

“Why is everything so dusty here?” Jimin complained, rubbing his nose with his sleeve.

“Yeah, it’s making me-” Taehyung was interrupted by the loud sneeze that escaped his mouth.

“Bless you.” Yoongi responded immediately, rubbing Taehyung’s back caringly.

It was the first sign of affection Yoongi had openly given Taehyung. They were alone, for one, and for two, Taehyung seemed a little down today, just a little sad.

“Let’s get going, Hak-kun should be in his apartment still, according to the schedule Hae-won gave us.” Jin checked his phone to pull up the screenshot.

“Why does she have his schedule?” Jimin asked innocently.

“It’s a small town, who knows?” Yoongi pressed his lips into a thin line.

Knock knock knock. Namjoon waited patiently, his partners waiting near the car so as to not scare Hak-kun off. There was the sound of footsteps and a loud groan. The door opened a crack, stopped by the chain inside.

“Who are you?” The voice was gruff.

“I’m Kim Namjoon from the Bangtan Police Department. I’d like to ask you a few questions regarding the murders of Jane Doe, Mun-hee, and others.”

“Okay one second.” The voice was more awake this time as he shut the door. The chain rattled on the other side and then the door opened fully. A man stood in clothes that looked like he’d slept in them. Namjoon immediately recognized him as their rude waiter.

“Had a rough night?” He tried to be pleasant.

“Yeah, slept in the car again. The damn heater broke in my apartment.” The man grumbled, stepping aside to let him in. When Namjoon walked in, already tense, his eyes had to adjust to the darkness.

Despite the thin streams of light shining through the slats in his windows, the room was in utter darkness. As he adjusted, he could make out piles of clothing on the floor, dishes in the sink, unwashed, and cups littering the floor. There was also an odd assortment of broken items in the corner of the room, hidden in the darkness.

It looked like someone threw a rager in this house and then left. The brown haired police chief was surprised anyone could be this messy. Like, he was messy, yes, but he would never let himself degenerate to this state.

“What do you need to know?” Hak-kun somehow found a place to sit on the couch, but it had a dent carved in it and Namjoon was sure that was the only place you could sit on that couch.

“Actually, we have a warrant for your arrest due to substantial evidence implicating you in the murder of Mun-hee.” Namjoon dug around his pockets and took out the papers.

“Oh, I see.” Hak-kun’s eyes didn’t quite meet Namjoon’s. He looked around, jaw clenching in signs of annoyance.

“What’s that?” The chief asked, pointing to the broken objects in the corner of the room. The man’s nostrils flared in anger.

“I just get mad sometimes and things happen, okay?” He snapped. “I’ll go with you willingly, I have nothing to hide.” Hak-kun stood and dusted off his pants, though they were already dirty with food stains.

Namjoon grimaced and nodded, in a hurry to leave the dirty apartment.

Audio recording #1:

MYG: Is it alright if we record this?

HK: Yeah, it’s fine.

MYG: Great, okay, please tell us how you are connected to Mun-hee.

HK: Mun-hee...ah, Mun-hee. We went to school together. Wait, can I get a glass of water or something? I have a splitting headache.

MYG: Of course.

KTH: So you knew her?

HK: Hah, well, we grew up together. It was often just us, this stupid town, the old schools. A lot of kids come here because it’s the closest school around these parts, but only a couple actually live here.

MYG: Who else lives here?

HK: Hm, there was me, Mun-hee, Joo-Eun, and another girl, her name is slipping my mind.

KTH: You grew up with these people, though, how do you not know their names?

HK: She was always easily forgettable. She’s not much trouble though, I remember her being a nice girl...until, nevermind.

MYG: Until what?

HK: It’s not my place to say.

KTH: Well it would do you good to say it.

MYG (muffled): Taehyung get it together.

HK: I don’t want to talk about it.

MYG: That’s alright, Hak-kun, I can call you that, right?

HK: Yeah.

MYG: What do you remember about last saturday?

HK: Not much. I remember I drank some weird shit at the party-

MYG: The same one Mun-hee went to?

HK: Yes.

MYG: And why were you there, Hak-kun.

HK: Mun-hee is, was, my friend, sir. I would never do anything to hurt her, if that’s what you’re wondering. Listen, I know you guys are trying your best, but just drop it. I have nothing to do with it. That tie went missing long before Mun-hee’s body was found. I’ve obviously been framed and you stupid ass-

MYG: Okay, I think that’s enough for today. Thank you for coming, Sir. Please calm down or we’ll be forced to detain you.

HK: DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, ASSHO-

Beep.

“Well that was certainly insightful.” Yoongi mumbled, glancing over to where Hak-kun sat, dejected, in his cell. Taehyung sighed and played the tape again, taking more notes of the important information along with his personal thoughts.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be good at this.” Namjoon eyed the two with a raised eyebrow.

“Joonie, he was a difficult person to interview. I could tell he was annoyed the entire time except when he spoke of Mun-hee.” Taehyung frowned, flipping through his notes. “Here, I wrote down ‘aggressively making eye contact and frowning.’”

“Are those seriously your notes?” Yoongi looked through his notes which were pages longer. “Do I need to train you in note taking as well?”

“No! I just, I don’t notice as much as you, oh wise Yoongles.” Taehyung crossed his arms, pouting. Yoongi just softened his expression.

“You can always tell me what’s wrong.” He placed a tentative hand on Taehyung’s arm.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Hae-won’s soft voice hovered in the air. She was closing the door of the security room behind her.

Jin often handled the security room, but he trusted her to watch Hak-kun while he went to the bathroom. Jin slipped back in as she stepped into the room with the others.

Yoongi immediately dropped his hand, to the disappointment of Taehyung, and straightened. A cold look once again cast over his face. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to let you know that I have to head back early to finish up some school work.” She explained with a gentle smile.

“Okay, rest up and study well.” Namjoon nodded and she dipped her head, heading out the door. They all stared fondly at her retreating form. “The same goes for the rest of you.”

They had spent all day just interviewing and wrestling answers out of Hak-kun and yet they came up empty every time. Maybe he was truly innocent and they were trying to convict a good man. This was the kind of case where things could get really messy if they kept going on intuition instead of hard facts.

“Let’s wrap it up and head back to the hotel. Jin, are you coming?” Namjoon called as the others filed out of the station.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna check some things and then I’ll be back in no time.”

Trusting his second in command, Namjoon left.

The first sunlight was filtering through the windows of an empty cell. A glass of water was on the ground next to the cot, tipped over, the ground wet beneath it.

“How could he have escaped? Where did he go?”

Hands reached out to the unsuspecting man.

“Do you have a headache? You look in pain.” The voice said, hiding the glinting blade in the moonlight.

“Who are you?”

“Just a nice person. I have something that could really help.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, just some medication for headaches. It works wonders.”

“Pass it here.”

The man is passed out soon enough and the shadowy figure grabs the keys off one of the hooks in the back and unlocks his cell. Then the figure dragged him out, put him in his car, slit his throat, and placed his face down at the dashboard. They were back home in 10 minutes, bloodlust satisfied.

“The feed is just looping. How did I not notice this before?” Jin mumbled, head in his hands.

“Hey, it’s okay, the killer was...tricky.” Namjoon comforted his lover.

“Boss.” Jungkook piped up, holding a phone in the air. “It’s for you.”

The chief of police stood and walked over with purposeful steps. It was easy to see why he was the chief. He was sure of himself, walked with purpose, passion, and he always looked like he had a mission.

“Mhm?” He murmured. “This is he. What? How did it get there? Okay, okay, I’ll send my best men out to investigate. Please hang in there and don’t touch anything.” He hung up, rushing to throw on his suit jacket. “Hak-kun’s body was just found.”

“Where?” Jimin stood as well and the others followed suit.

“In his car. No one disturbed him, claimed he slept in his car all the time and no one thought much of it. It’s just...so odd.” Namjoon sighed.

“Why?” Yoongi tilted his head. Their fearless leader wasn’t usually thrown by anything, always keeping a cool facade. But here he seemed to be cracking.

“His car was found across town.” He raced out the door, watching the others pile in and Jin took the driver’s seat. “I just feel like this case is getting away from us. We’re obviously missing something.” The chief stared out the window, thinking intensely. The other members knew not to make too much noise.

“Do you think...it’s time to bring someone else in?” Taehyung asked quietly.

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook said defensively.

“I mean,” Taehyung shot the younger boy a look that shut him up. “That we may need more of a specialist in here. There’s one thing we haven’t been able to look at.”

“And that is?” Yoongi closed his eyes lazily as he leaned back in his seat.

“Blood. We haven’t been able to test the blood.”

“Well, we only know one reliable person who can do that and she’s probably very busy.” Jin scolded the younger males. “But it’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Let’s just take a look and then we can decide.”

The street they pulled up to was quiet, not a person in sight. The leaves shifted in the breeze, skittering across the ground. It made for an uneasy sight. They stepped out and Jin locked the car.

Jimin handed out gloves and then he went around, feeling over the creases of the blue car, completely ignoring the dead body inside.

“Found anything interesting?” Jungkook called.

“Nope.” Jimin responded flatly, concentrated. He peered inside, seeing the blood pooling on the dashboard and dripping into Hak-kun’s lap.

“I think it’s definitely the same killer. He has the same neck slice.” He felt over the windows. Not a single scratch. “No signs of forced entry or struggle with the car.” He dictated as Hoseok took careful notes.

“I see no bruising visible on the victim, wait.” He crawled onto the back of the car, peering through the back window. “I see some purple markings on the back of the victim.”

The shadowy figure dragged Hak-kun, his back bumping over every curve, spine taking the brunt of the blows. He moaned in pain, starting to stir. The figure panicked. They need to get this over with quickly.

“Anything else?” Hoseok asked.

“No, I’d have to see the inside.” Jimin sighed, brushing some hair out of his face.

“We’ll see what we can do to get the keys.” Namjoon nodded at Hoseok to write that down.

“This case has me stumped, Namjoon. Obviously, the killer must be drugging them, how else can they get away with all this with no struggle?” Jimin stretched his arms.

“It’s confusing to me too, but I’m sure we’ll find out something soon enough.”

“Namjoon, I think we all know who we need to call.” Yoongi set a firm hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and the police chief’s shoulders drooped.

“But I don’t want to bother her, besides I think we can figure it out, right?”

“This is her job, It’s time to man up and call Y/N.”

A/N p.2: Hey guys! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!! Any predictions yet? I’m sorry this took so long, I was in a creative block

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sailorspazz · 3 years

Text

[Fanfic] Internal Rhythms

Yup, my 10 Dance obsession has reached the point where I need to create fan works, since there’s so little out there (I don’t understand, this manga started 9 years ago, where are all the fics and fanarts?! There’s not even much in Japanese!)

Title: Internal Rhythms

Series: 10 Dance

Rating: M (for sexual content)

Words: 5,200

Summary: Suzuki and Sugiki are having issues syncing with each other's rhythms while practicing the quickstep. Sugiki's suggestion for how to get back in tune ends up pushing their relationship to a place it has never gone before.

Where to read: Posted on fanfiction.net and ao3. Or just stay here and click below!

Ah shit, here we go again…Somehow, I’ve wound up falling into a tiny fandom that has barely any fan works, so I guess I have to help fix that :P Since 10 Dance is an ongoing series, I actually have tons of speculative ideas/headcanons developing for what could happen, but for now I’m content to wait and see what direction the story heads in. Instead, I’ve chosen to write a smutty one-off based on chapter 32; though there are some details referenced from that chapter, if you’ve at least read through the end of volume 5, you should have enough context for where their relationship currently stands (as in, they definitely wouldn’t be messing around with each other at this point…and yet, I still couldn’t stop my dirty mind from imagining scenarios where they push things further >:D). Hope you enjoy this take on what could’ve gone down during a late-night training session!

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The wall clock inside the Sugiki Dance School struck 1:20am as both Shinyas took a few final sips of water and prepared to start their usual overnight practice session. Though at first it had felt awkward to spend so many hours together even after they had chosen to no longer pursue their romance, they had been able to effectively push their feelings aside and maintain a professional training partnership—even as both were keenly aware that those desires still remained simmering just under the surface.

“Alright, let’s give the quickstep another shot,” Suzuki stated as he walked over to where Sugiki stood loosening the top buttons of his shirt. “We lost out on practice time yesterday since our rhythms were off or whatever, so we gotta make up for it today.” He was eager to finish learning the basics of all five standard dances so he could spend the remaining months before the 10 Dance perfecting his movements and refining his style.

“Indeed. Let’s waste no time getting started, then.” They joined hands, and Sugiki instinctively closed his eyes as Suzuki’s arm wrapped around him and pulled him snug against his body. He began to hum a tune, as he knew his late-night partner benefitted from having music to dance to, and they started to move. Though they started out smoothly, it was not long before their feet were clearly moving at different paces, causing them to nearly trip and fall before catching themselves in each other’s arms.

“Dammit. Not again,” Suzuki sighed in frustration as he broke out of hold. “Why’s this happening now? We’ve never had this issue before. Not even right after…” He trailed off, not wanting to bring up the breakup that still felt too raw and heartbreaking to talk about a couple of months after it had occurred.

“I believe it is simply the nature of this dance. Since it relies so heavily on the two dancers being in sync with one another and dancing as one, any variance in their internal rhythms can throw it entirely off balance.”

“I get that, but do you got any bright ideas for how to fix this, Mr. ‘standard expert’? Has it happened before with other partners?”

“It has, and the solution was…well…” He paused a moment, looking slightly amused by the memories he was recalling. “When it occurred with partners I was romantically involved with, we would express our intimacy to get back in tune with each other.”

“What, you mean fuck?” Suzuki said bluntly.

“Eloquent as always, aren’t you?” he replied with a chuckle. “It needn’t go that far in most cases. Usually just a simple kiss would suffice.”

Suzuki found himself dwelling on Sugiki’s implication that he had dated more than one of his previous partners. “Just how many partners did you…ya know what, never mind.” Though he already suspected it was true, getting confirmation that Sugiki had a tendency to fall for his partners would make what they had shared feel less special.

“I have never shared that sort of relationship with Ms. Yagami, I can assure you.”

His response was not assuring in the slightest. “Yeah, thanks, but I wasn’t worried about you getting busy with your married partner. It just seems like you…” Suzuki stopped himself from finishing his thought, as he was still concerned that the answer to his earlier unfinished question was one he did not want to know. “Whatever, I said forget it already.”

“You’re one to talk,” Sugiki retorted, not allowing the subject to be dropped just yet. “I’m quite certain that percentage-wise, you have been involved with more of your partners than I have.”

Suzuki looked flabbergasted at this accusation. While it was true that he had had romances with one hundred percent of his partners, when that number only amounted to two people when he included the man in front of him, it was hardly a fair comparison. “Are you shitting me? Don’t go twisting this around to make me look bad! You know damn well I’ve…” Before he got too far into his tirade, he noticed the satisfied smirk Sugiki was wearing. Clearly he was riling him up on purpose for his own amusement, and Suzuki had unwittingly fallen into his trap—though there was a part of him that did not mind being baited by him, and it was something he had actually missed when their relationship had been in a more fragile place following their separation. “This ain’t helping solve our problem, smartass. You got any solutions that’re actually useful?”

“We could try it,” Sugiki murmured under his breath, just barely loud enough for Suzuki to hear.

“Huh?” Suzuki wondered if he was really implying what he assumed he was, but was almost afraid to ask. “What exactly do you wanna try out?”

Sugiki met his eyes with an expression that to most would come across as stoic, but because they had spent so much time together, he could see a twinge of heartache behind it. “We shared a romantic bond before. Perhaps we could realign if we connected in that manner once more, however briefly.”

The acknowledgment that he was suggesting exactly what he had suspected caused Suzuki’s heart to leap. Despite continuing to share incredibly close contact every night as they practiced, neither one had broken down and expressed the desire to rekindle the affectionate side of their bond, even though it was something they could mutually sense from each other through their touch. Now Sugiki had finally gone and voiced it aloud, and Suzuki did not know how to feel, his elation being tamped down by the memories of how badly things had ended before. But he found he could not just shoot down this suggestion outright. “So…you’re saying we should make out?” he asked incredulously.

“It can be much chaster than that. Perhaps just a light kiss would do the trick, like the ones you gave me to help loosen me up during our early Latin sessions.”

His face now looked inscrutable, to the point where Suzuki could not tell if he actually thought this would be helpful, or if he was just looking for an excuse to kiss him. However, there was a growing part of him that did not even care if it were the latter. We really shouldn’t do this, he thought to himself. But his inner doubts did not match the words that came out of his mouth. “Well…if you think it’s worth a shot, then…”

Suzuki sauntered closer to Sugiki. As they stood facing each other, both looked unsure if they should actually go through with this. It was an unfamiliar awkward tension that neither wished to endure any longer, so the two began leaning their faces toward one another. However, Suzuki noticed something and grabbed Sugiki’s face, squishing his cheeks with his hands. “Hold up, what’s this I see?” he asked suspiciously, peering into his partner’s mouth. “Looks like the tip of your tongue is poking out awful far for someone who was just gonna kiss me lightly.”

“And what about you, Suzuki-sensei?” Sugiki brought his thumb up to the other man’s mouth and ran it gently across his bottom lip. “I was peeking as well, and those lips of yours were parted quite wide.”

Neither could truly be upset at the other since both were guilty of the same offense. Which made it even clearer that it would be incredibly difficult to restrain themselves and keep to just the gentle kiss they had agreed upon. Suzuki knew this meant they needed to stop, but as he stared into his partner’s yearning eyes, he found it impossible to turn away. He wanted him, he had missed sharing this with him, and he could not allow this opportunity to slip away, even if he knew he might regret it later. “Ah, fuck it,” he mumbled as he slipped his hand around and clutched the back of Sugiki’s head, smashing their lips together forcefully. They quickly locked together in a tight embrace, their tongues thrusting vigorously into each other’s mouths. As ballroom professionals, they had previously compared their make out sessions to different styles of dance: sometimes their tongues slid smoothly together in a gentle foxtrot, at other times they undulated in a sensual rumba. This time, as months of pent-up passion poured out of each of them, it was more like an unconventional paso doble between two matadors battling for dominance.

Why’s it so easy to fall right back into this? And why does it feel so good with him? Suzuki wondered as they continued their maddening yet thrilling dance, relishing the feeling of Sugiki’s fingers twisting through his hair and tugging at his curls. Though in the past he had been more accustomed to romantic partners who would yield to him, there was something about the aggressive push and pull between the two of them that was undeniably appealing—in fact, he even preferred it now.

Sugiki began sucking on the tip of Suzuki’s tongue, causing a moan to slip out. Shit, this is getting out of hand. The urges he had harbored before about ravishing his late-night partner were coming back in full force; he needed to end this before he tried something regrettable again. Against the will of his body that was screaming for more, he managed to dislodge his tongue from Sugiki’s mouth and pull his face back. They breathed heavily as they gazed at each other, and Sugiki made a move toward him again, but Suzuki turned his face so the other man’s lips landed on his cheek instead. Sugiki seemed to accept this alternative, and placed a sequence of tender kisses along his jawline. “I knew this was a bad idea,” Suzuki lamented with a deep sigh.

“Why do you say that?” Sugiki whispered, pressing his lips to Suzuki’s ear.

“’Cause it’s gonna be really hard to stop now.”

“Indeed, I can see how…hard it is,” Sugiki noted with a sly glance downward. “That’s quite a bomer you’re sporting.”

Suzuki’s face turned red, though he also snorted out a laugh. “I seriously can’t tell if you’re fucking with me at this point, or you really don’t know that word. It’s boner.”

“Ah, right.” The sexual tension between them had cooled a bit during this brief exchange, but Sugiki found himself still craving more of his Latino partner. The fact that July was fast approaching and Norman would soon be arriving to take over Suzuki’s coaching made him truly want to make the most of the remaining time they had together. He was on the verge of suggesting something they had never done before, but struggled as he weighed his desires against logic telling him they should not take this any further. “It would be difficult for you to attempt to dance in that state. Perhaps…” His uncertainty caused him to trail off without finishing his proposal.

“Ah, y-yeah,” Suzuki laughed awkwardly. “I guess I could take a break and…”

Before he could walk away, Sugiki grabbed his arms and held him in place. “Perhaps,” he started again, sounding more confident this time as he met his partner’s eyes. “I could…take care of it for you.”

Suzuki’s eyes widened in disbelief. For one, he had never seen someone offer to get him off while wearing such a gravely serious expression. But more importantly, the fact that he was making this offer now when they had never gone beyond kissing was completely unexpected. And he knew allowing this to happen could jeopardize the comfortable working relationship they had developed with each other. Despite that, something awakened in him at the sound of the other Shinya’s words, and there was no way in hell he was going to turn him down. His mental state quickly switched over to the seductive mode that he typically got into when he went out to pick up women—though ever since their trip to Blackpool early in the year when he had started to recognize his feelings for Sugiki, he had actually not slept with anyone at all, and was currently in the longest dry spell of his adult life. Even if they were never officially dating, and even after their romance ended, it would have almost felt like cheating since he had sincerely fallen in love with him. A sensual grin spread across his face, his eyes half-lidded as he softly stroked Sugiki’s cheek. “Oh yeah? How do you plan to do it?” he purred flirtatiously.

Sugiki shivered as he was taken in by the sudden shift in Suzuki’s mannerisms. He did not give him an answer, but instead kept his eyes locked with his partner’s as he dropped down to his knees and reached for the waistband of Suzuki’s pants.

Suzuki raised an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t willing to do that.”

“Certainly not under the circumstances you presented me with before. That would have been highly undignified,” Sugiki explained in an agitated tone. “Under the right conditions, though, I don’t have a problem with it.” He pulled Suzuki’s pants down to his lower thighs, then slipped his hand through the opening in his underwear, pulling out his erection.

Suzuki chuckled as he noticed that, though Sugiki seemed to be willing himself to keep his expression as calm as possible, his eyes told the story of a man suddenly feeling apprehensive as he held another man’s dick in his hand for the first time in his life. “You say you’re fine with this, but it’s not like you’ve done it before.”

“Yes, well…” He did not finish his reply aloud, but thought to himself, For you—and only you—I’m willing to try just about anything. His hunger for this man had compelled him to push things further than he had intended, but at this point he could not back down. He gave Suzuki’s member some soft strokes with his hand, feeling it grow bigger and firmer. He brought his lips forward and placed them gently on the tip, then poked his tongue out and swirled it in circles around the head. He was stalling a bit due to his hesitation, and he knew Suzuki could sense that as he stared down at him in anticipation, so it was time to take the plunge. He moved forward and slipped the head of Suzuki’s erection into his mouth. He sucked lightly as he pressed him just a bit deeper inside, moving back and forth slowly as he got used to the sensation of having a foreign appendage inside his mouth. Once he got a bit more comfortable, he removed his hand and pushed further yet again, reaching a place where he had most of Suzuki’s length in his mouth. He began to relax a bit, and his head movements went from halting and erratic to smooth and consistent.

Holy shit, this is really happening. Suzuki closed his eyes and exhaled a lustful sigh. I can’t believe I’m getting a blowjob from a guy. He smirked as he thought on it further. No, not just any guy. The Shinya Sugiki. The Emperor. A man who sits near the top of the world, down on his knees for me. Fuck, that’s hot. The ego boost he got from this realization aroused him even further, making him want to feel the sensation of being completely enveloped by his partner. He gripped Sugiki’s hair and tried to hold him in place while shifting his hips forward, but Sugiki’s hand flew up and gripped the base of his shaft, preventing him from going any deeper. He shot a warning glare up at Suzuki, but did not stop what he was doing, now using his hand in conjunction with his mouth to stroke and suck him simultaneously. It seemed the balance of power was an issue between them, as it always had been; even though Sugiki had put himself in a vulnerable position, he still wanted to remain in control. Suzuki could respect that need, and though he still kept his hand resting on his partner’s head, he merely ran his fingers through his hair rather than made further attempts to steer his actions through force.

Suzuki recalled that the reason this had all started was because of their mistimed internal rhythms. There was certainly no more intimate demonstration of one’s rhythm than what Sugiki was doing to him currently, so he decided to concentrate on the pace of his partner’s actions. As soon as he put his focus on it, he was struck by how even and steady it was. Like a piece of music…oh my god, what if he’s playing a waltz in his head? A chuckle nearly escaped him, but he bit down hard on his lip to hold it back. Nah, he doesn’t even need music. He’s probably doing it to the count. One two three, four five six, one two three…it’s like I’m getting blown by a metronome. That mental image made him snicker aloud, causing Sugiki to stop and peer up at him quizzically. “Sorry, sorry. I just…thought of something weird.” He could tell from the look in his eyes that Sugiki was miffed that he was letting his mind wander when he was going extremely far out of his comfort zone to do this for him, so Suzuki felt the need to encourage him a bit. “Please don’t stop. It really does feel amazing.” Though he still looked slightly wary, Sugiki quickly got back into the same rhythm he had been using before. Clearly, thinking about anything was only going to get Suzuki in trouble, so he chose to just relax and enjoy Sugiki’s efforts.

Though the pace he was keeping felt good, it was not quite reaching the speed Suzuki would need to finish. The situation already felt delicate, and he did not want to seem like he was making demands of his partner, so instead of saying anything, he used the fingers resting on Sugiki’s head to gently tap out a faster rhythm. He immediately picked up on what Suzuki was subtly requesting of him, and altered his pace accordingly. Sugiki’s other hand reached around to squeeze one of his partner’s well-muscled ass cheeks. His fingers slipped ever closer toward the center, an avenue Suzuki was not ready to explore. “H-hey,” he protested firmly, causing Sugiki to return to merely caressing his backside. “Ah, Sugi…hngh…mmph.” He could not help but vocalize his pleasure as he drew closer and closer to his climax. He figured it was also probably fair to warn the other man so he could be prepared. “I’m gonna…gah!” He did not even finish the words before tossing his head back with a moan as a wave of ecstasy coursed throughout his body. Though Sugiki had been aware that this would be happening soon and had tried to brace himself, it was still a shock to feel another man’s essence spilling into his mouth. He swallowed a little bit, but the thick, unfamiliar texture sliding down his throat triggered his gag reflex and made him cough, causing most of Suzuki’s cum to dribble down onto his shirt.

Suzuki offered a hand to help Sugiki stand up. Even after pulling him up, he continued to grip his hand, flashing him a contented smile. “Well, I sure didn’t expect a training session like this.”

Sugiki could not help but grin back at him. His heartbeat quickened as they stared into each other’s eyes. He wished they could stay this way forever, but he knew that the longer they continued basking in the afterglow, the harder it would be to tear themselves away from each other. “Well then, shall we get back to training?”

“Whoa, hold on a minute,” Suzuki squeezed his hand tighter, keeping him from breaking away. “We might’ve solved my issue, but now it looks like you’re having one of your own.” His eyes darted downward to the obvious bulge in Sugiki’s pants, then looked back up at him with a lecherous grin.

“Ah, well, I…”

Suzuki swiftly eliminated the gap between their bodies, wrapping one arm around him while his other hand rubbed against the front of Sugiki’s pants. “Sucking me off got you pretty worked up, huh?” Suzuki murmured coquettishly. Sugiki could feel his neck and ears growing warm as he was once again being taken in by his partner’s highly effective seductive mode; it was hard to believe that a man who was so enticing in his everyday existence could amp up his sex appeal even more, but somehow Suzuki managed to pull it off. “You got such a low opinion of me that you didn’t think I’d return the favor?” he teased impishly.

Truth be told, this had all been quite an impulsive whim on Sugiki’s part, and he had not really thought ahead to what Suzuki might do for him in return. But now that the offer was on the table, there was no way he was going to pass it up. Sugiki draped his arms over Suzuki’s shoulders and gazed amorously into his eyes. “If you insist,” he answered softly before leaning forward to press his lips to his partner’s. The pace of this kiss was much more languid than the one they had shared earlier, yet still steeped with the passion of a tango as their tongues slipped past and against each other.

Suzuki began to shuffle his feet, leading them toward the side of the room as they remained attached at the mouth. They reached the benches and sat next to each other, then Suzuki pushed his weight toward Sugiki until he had him lying down. He brought his lips down upon Sugiki’s neck, kissing and sucking at his bare skin. Sugiki noted that he was definitely going to wind up with hickies from this, and would need to remember to keep his shirts completely buttoned up in the presence of others for the next few days, including at home with his mother.

Suzuki’s mouth drifted toward his throat, and he started moving on a pathway downward, placing kisses on each section of newly exposed skin as he undid his shirt buttons one by one. His other hand reached up to play with his nipples, and Sugiki could feel a part of him that wanted to resist; a man like him who was used to being in control was not entirely comfortable being put into such a submissive position. Still, he was willing to go against his own nature in this instance, as he craved the release his Latino partner was offering him.

After making his way down to Sugiki’s bellybutton, Suzuki went to work undoing the other man’s belt and unzipping his pants. He reached down into his underwear, frowning slightly as a realization hit him. “Um, wow. I could tell you were packing when our dicks said hello to each other in that first practice session, but god damn…” He sat up again and unveiled Sugiki’s erection, gawking at its impressive length. “Makin’ me feel inadequate here,” he muttered under his breath. Though he had desired Sugiki sexually for several months already, somehow he had never mentally prepared himself for the blow to his ego of being with a man who was better endowed than himself.

“You’re perfectly adequately sized, I can assure you.”

Suzuki looked dumbfounded for a second, then growled, “Your assurances are really shitty, ya know. How the hell’s being called ‘adequate’ supposed to make me feel better?!” In his mind, he added, Maybe someday I’ll fuck you, and we’ll see if you think my dick’s just ‘adequate’ then, but thought better of expressing that prospect aloud.

Sugiki was struggling to maintain a neutral expression, feeling a grin threatening to break out across his face. Getting Suzuki flustered was one of his favorite—and often easiest—forms of entertainment, and it was when he found him the most adorable. Though on second thought, perhaps this was not the smartest time to aggravate him, as it could cause his hot-headed partner to go back on his offer.

Suzuki narrowed his eyes at him, now noticing the smug glee Sugiki was trying to conceal. “You son of a bitch…” He had gotten him again, and though he was a bit peeved, he nevertheless loved seeing the spark of joy in the other Shinya’s eyes, which had become a rarer sight following their breakup. “You’re lucky I’m such a nice guy,” Suzuki said with a bit of a sneer as he began moving his hand in long strokes up and down Sugiki’s shaft. His partner sighed softly, closing his eyes and turning his head to the side, but Suzuki reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing him to face him again. “Hey. We ain’t dancing the waltz here. Don’t look away from me.” His lips curled up in a lascivious smile. “I wanna see your face when you come.” His grin widened even more as he watched Sugiki’s entire face turn beet red. “Wow. I’ve never seen you blush that hard before.” After repeatedly falling victim to his partner’s efforts to mess with him, Suzuki was pleased to achieve a small victory of his own.

As Suzuki continued to caress him, Sugiki tried to maintain the eye contact that the other man wanted, but it felt too intimate, to the point where it was uncomfortable for him. He continued facing upward, but instead of concentrating on what was in his field of vision, he fixated his attention on the rhythm Suzuki was using to pleasure him. Like when he danced, it was a bit inconsistent and unconventional, yet imbued with passion and enthusiasm. In any case, after spending months secretly wondering what it would be like if they pushed beyond just kissing, being touched by Suzuki like this was quite the thrill.

Suzuki saw a blissful smile appear on his partner’s face, which in these circumstances actually annoyed him. Ugh, why’s he always so elegant? I don’t wanna see that gentlemanly front when I’m jerking you off. He started pumping his hand faster, hoping to coax more of a lustful reaction out of Sugiki. His response of breathing slightly faster and biting down lightly on his lip was not nearly enough to sate Suzuki’s desire to see him let go, so he quickened his pace even more. Soon after, a slight hitch in Sugiki’s breath and his body tensing under him were the only signs Suzuki got to indicate that his partner was climaxing, which was immediately followed by the sensation of ejaculate spilling over his hand.

After taking a few moments to recover, Sugiki arose from the bench. “Let me get something so you can clean up,” he offered as he started walking across the room. He returned shortly with a towel and handed it to Suzuki.

“So…did you like that?” Suzuki asked curiously as he wiped his hands.

“Hmm? Of course. Why would you think otherwise?” Sugiki answered, looking confused.

“I mean, you weren’t really reacting very much, so…”

“Does the end result not make it obvious that I found it pleasurable?” He glanced at the towel Suzuki held, seeming to view it as proof of his point.

“Okay, yeah, obviously you got off, but I’m just more used to…”

“Oh, is it that you usually have women screaming your name in bed?” he chortled.

“That’s…not what I was trying to say…though it is true,” Suzuki acknowledged. “I just thought maybe I’d…I dunno, get to see you let loose a bit, get sloppy or something.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t tend to do that.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Despite his best efforts, he had not succeeded in making Sugiki drop the impervious guard he kept around himself. Maybe I can’t get you to show me that side of you yet, but someday…

Sugiki could tell it was frustrating for the other Shinya that he had not given him the sort of responses he was accustomed to, but the fact was that it was difficult to open himself entirely up knowing that they could not be in a relationship at this point. Still, he could not let go of the hope that they might one day be together. If anyone’s capable of pulling that side out of me, you’ll be the one to do it.

Once they finished cleaning up, Sugiki disposed of the towel and changed into a new shirt before returning to his partner once more. “All right, shall we resume practice, then?”

“Yeah, but could we work on some dances I already know first? My brain’s a bit…foggy right now, so it’d be hard to try something so new.” He always fell into a fairly relaxed state following sex, so he wanted to save Sugiki the headache of trying to teach him quickstep when it was likely he would absorb very little.

“Certainly, but do you not think we should at least try to see if the compatibility of our rhythms has improved at all first?” He looked at Suzuki with a sly smirk. “That is why we did this, yes?”

“O-of course,” Suzuki stammered. “Yeah, let’s test it out a bit.” They positioned themselves in hold once more, beginning to move to the tune of Sugiki’s humming. Their feet flew across the floor in the basic quickstep patterns Suzuki had learned so far, each of them keeping in mind the feeling of the internal rhythms they had sensed from each other. This time around, they were able to continue moving at high speeds without stumbling, dancing around the room for a while before coming to a stop. Both were panting heavily from the effort, and as they stayed in hold a bit longer, Suzuki blushed slightly as Sugiki beamed at him with a dreamy smile on his face.

“Perfect.”

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Oh ho ho…my Shinyas are very naughty boys! Much more so than they’ve been in the story so far (I suppose a similar level to the Taboo side story, but that’s not exactly canon). I’m excited to get this done and add another fic to the very small pile that currently exists. I really hope more fans will join me in celebrating this beautiful manga and its central pair of dance crazy dumbasses who can’t yet—but will hopefully, eventually—figure out how to make it work between them *cough*just be switch goddammit*cough*. In the meantime, I’ll keep wallowing in headcanons that might possibly become fics if the mood strikes me again. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! ^_^

#10 dance #10dance #fanfic

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candlelight27 · 3 years

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Chapter 5: This Moment Lost in Time

Summary: Sylvain has been ignoring you since you met him. You had been in love with him since you met him. College is about to offer you a fresh start. New academic year, new life. You were ready to forget him. But fate seems to have other plans… (COLLEGE AU)

Series: Seeking Your Warmth If Only For A Day

Warnings: BLOOD, game spoilers and felony (don’t steal, kids)

Pairings: Sylvain Jose Gautier x Female Reader

Word Count: 5143

AO3: This Moment Lost in Time

A/N: Thanks to @galamixx and their help!!! If you like this chapter, please consider commenting. My inbox is always open too, for suggestiong or just to chat! :)

You put a hesitant foot in Sylvain’s room, walking right behind him as he guided you. It was an ample space and it had a window that let the sunshine inside in the morning. The decoration was quite simple. The bed, placed under the window, was covered in white linen, and the walls were bare, without any pictures or posters. Its appearance broke your every expectation of what you had thought his room would be like.

You were surprised you couldn’t find anything that screamed ‘Sylvain lives here’, or any hint at all of his renowned affairs. You chastised yourself for thinking he’d have a box filled with panties he had stolen, or obscene magazines thrown around. He was now a close friend – perhaps something more, but your brain was trying to avoid that subject at the moment – so you’d have to stop assuming things about him. Especially regarding the high number of misconceptions you’ve had about him. Yet the truth was that you would have never suspected that he lived in such an austere manner. You began to understand how he got along with Dimitri so well.

Despite the absence of luxuries, there was something that caught your eye: the quantity of books he owned. His desk and shelves were crammed, and there were even a few piles over the floor. You identified in a glance some history titles, as well as fiction and philosophical essays. It was quite the collection for someone most people considered an airhead – a thought that made you slightly angry at those people.

“Sit wherever you want,” Sylvain commented. You sat on the bed, while he moved to take a seat on the chair in front of his desk. He carefully placed on the floor a board of chess, trying not to move any pieces. It was incomplete, with only a handful of blacks and whites. You wondered if Sylvain was trying to solve one of those problems that he used to do with Claude back in high school. Afterwards, Sylvain placed his hands behind his head and leant back. You looked around nervous, absentmindedly caressing the bed dressing with your fingertips, avoiding by all means ogling him.

“You have a nice room,” you said. This was awkward, and you didn’t know what to say. You felt once again you were invading his privacy by simply being there. And you were on his bed, where he slept. It felt very personal, and you were not sure if it was your place to be there.

“Not what you expected for someone like me, right?”, he hummed. You feared that he actually was able to read your mind after that line.

“How is Glenn?”, you changed the subject, hoping Sylvain wouldn’t notice.

“Oh, he’s fine! He’s conscious and recovering. Apparently, when he was going to work, a dog crossed the road and he crashed the car avoiding it.” Sylvain drew out a breath. “Honestly, I’m so relieved he’s alive.”

“That gives us time to proceed with our plan. But then again, Flayn is onto whatever is happening. It’s not just paranoia, there must be a clue somewhere,” you reflected.

You had a few days to come to terms with Sylvain’s crazy theories after that encounter with Flayn at the hospital. As if fate had been mocking you, you had even more visions of your classmates in times of war, which only reinforced Sylvain’s words. You started writing down the smallest details you could recall, hoping they’d be of help to clarify something. Anything. And you realised some names kept appearing time after time.

“I wanted to show you a few things,” Sylvain said. He turned around to look at the books opened on his desk. He moved a couple of volumes and used papers around until he chose one. The sound of papers being flipped frantically came from behind you. “Here it is!”

He stood up and gave it to you, waiting a minute for you to inspect it thoroughly.

“So?” He insisted. Sylvain was eager to know your opinion. “What do you think?”

“It’s…” you opened your mouth.

“Awfully familiar?”, he offered.

“Yes”, you nodded.

It was an ancient copy of Seiros’ precepts. There you could see a coloured engraving that displayed Saint Seiros, who had an eerie resemblance to Rhea, officially in charge of Garreg Mach High School and the cathedral annexed to it. Her light green hair, her bright and big eyes, her figure. Everything was exactly the same. She had a serene countenance, and she was surrounded by dragons. Once, you were taught that they represented the strength of Seiros and the four saints, but they had so many details, they looked real.

“And that’s not the only thing!” Sylvain added before you could finish examining it. He passed you another book. “This one is Linhardt’s, but he lent it to me indefinitely. He knows a lot about Saint Cethleann, he’s investigating her figure and plans to do a PhD.”

“What am I looking for?”, you asked, tracing the index with your finger.

“Look at the pictures first. There are a couple of engravings and drawings. Just look at any.”

You did as he told you. A chill ran down your spine.

“This is Flayn,” you babbled, totally astonished. “But, like, it’s clearly Flayn.”

“Yes!” Sylvain was thrilled.

“They have the same face,” you repeated. You looked at the bottom of the page, where a footnote was written, and read it out loud. “‘Saint Cethleann was said to possess a kind heart and devoted her life to helping others in need. That’s why she developed an interest in medicine, and she is the patron saint of those who practice the art of healing. She healed countless wounded in her life, sparking the faith in those who met her.’ Is this real?” He nodded, an amused expression decorating his face. He seemed entertained by your reaction. “It looks like a set up.”

“It’s weird that all the pieces fit together as we go, right?”, Sylvain agreed.

“If everything is so evident, why hasn’t anyone found out anything yet?”, you exclaimed exasperated.

“We’ve gone over that before,” he sat next to you on the bed. He crossed one of his legs and was careful not to touch you with any part of his body. After all, you were not the only one self-conscious about this meeting. He had been feeling vulnerable ever since he went all in with you – it was easy to recognise.

You wanted to tell him that it was okay to have physical contact and get close to you. And that you had similar feelings for him. But neither of you had said anything after his speech, and your conversations hadn’t got that way any other time. And now it seemed that you had lost your opportunity to give him an answer; it seemed forgotten and entombed.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone has bigger problems. Except us, apparently”, you said ironically.

“I have plenty of problems”, he said with fake seriousness.

“Oh?”, you mocked him. “I’ve never noticed.”

“One of them is no one takes me seriously”, he smirked. You felt a pang of guilt on your stomach and averted your gaze towards the book. It was shameful to admit, but you had done it several times in the past. You didn’t know he resented it.

“I wanted to try something,” Sylvain said out loud, demanding your attention. He looked flushed, but you dismissed the thought.

That’s when you remembered his cryptic messages earlier.

Sylvain (13:25): I might have come up with a thing that can be useful 😊.

Sylvain (13:25): Come home whenever you want, I’ll be here.

He hadn’t texted you as regularly as he did during the previous days, thus when his icon popped up on the screen of your phone, your heart fluttered in your chest. Should you go right away? Should you wait? There were things unsaid between you, but you had been dying to spend time with your favourite redhead. You convinced yourself that curiosity was playing a big part in your decision, and not your own emotions, so immediately answered affirmatively to his proposition.

“Yes, you mentioned that before.” You looked at him in the eye. He was blushing, you had no doubts now. And it seemed that he was out of character, because who would have thought Sylvain would be ashamed at all flirting? “What’s wrong?”

“You might not like my methods,” he shrugged.

“Sylvain!” you sighed, annoyed. “We’re way past your mysterious phase! Just tell me!”

“No need to get mad, darling,” he laughed. Then, Sylvain coughed and recomposed himself. “I thought that maybe we could trigger memories so we can investigate them. Find a common pattern.”

“Okay.”

“What was the last thing you dreamt?” He inquired carefully. Sylvain knew that some dreams were… Unfavorable.

“That horrible nightmare where I bury an axe in your chest”, you said. It made you want to cry, just the mere mention of it. Such a brutal act, why would it have happened?

“Ah, yes. That one”, he made a disgusted gesture. “You could’ve picked a nicer one.”

“How are we going to trigger the memories?”, you questioned him.

“By touching,” Sylvain answered. You raised your eyebrows. “W-Wait, not in that way!”, he stuttered while waving his arms around, as if to clear the atmosphere. Hewas trying his best to correct his accidental innuendo. “We can hold our hands, or just bump our shoulders together? We don’t have to, of course, but–”

“Sylvain, relax. I don’t mind”, you took his hand in yours to downplay the issue. That warmth that had become familiar spread throughout your skin. “Besides, it’s a good idea. It’s worked before.”

“But it’s not working now,” Sylvain complained.

“What did you think that was going to happen? Fireworks and a narrated episode of the battle of Garreg Mach?” You mocked, while he simply smirked.

The situation made your heart fly. The light outside was fading, dying the room of orange and gold. Everything surrounding you belonged to Sylvain, and you were on his bed, holding his hand in yours. It was special. A great fluttery feeling was forming in your stomach, one that made you light in the head and giggly. You shifted your body around awkwardly, without changing your position, and his grip tightened.

You noticed the muscles in his arm flexing, and his palm becoming sweaty.

“It’s not working…”, Sylvain lamented again.

“Close your eyes. Let’s focus on that memory together,” you instructed, half hoping it would work, half hoping it would prevent him from releasing your hand.

You let your eyes close. Every sensation became sharper. His touch, his presence, his smell. Everything had a distinct scent, the detergent of his clothes, his cologne, his books. - ‘Put yourself together!’ you scolded yourself and tried to envision your memory instead of focusing on Sylvain.

The large field of Gronder; the confusion of bodies, some dead, some alive; the fresh blood; Sylvain’s horrid expression.

And, as if it was magic, it worked. You could vividly see it. The world surrounding you disappeared, and you were immersed in that moment lost in time.

The heat was suffocating, and so was the odour of burnt bodies and death. The podium where the archers had been trying to knock down the wyverns and pegasi had suddenly burned when the infantry had reached it. Many had died from all three parties: Dimitri’s, Edelgard’s and Claude’s. The flames were consuming everything on your left. Your arms stung out of tiredness, for you couldn’t even remember how long you had been there, fighting enemies.

Suddenly, you saw Sylvain. His horse was nowhere to be seen, and it saddened you. It was probably dead, too. A bad omen. You thought of the times he had insisted you rode with him, and the few times you accepted. Or when he stayed overtime to take care of the mount. You shook your head: he was now your enemy, and you had to kill him. Tears filled your eyes, and you voiced all the curses you could think of. How had everything turned into this? Where did it go wrong?

Sylvain was not aware that you were there. You traced his direction with your eyes. Was he escaping the fire? You hoped he was fleeing, but you knew him like the back of your hand. He had sworn loyalty to Dimitri and he wouldn’t leave him behind. Never. You looked far beyond.

When the realisation hit you, you started running.

He was heading towards Claude, who wasn’t riding his wyvern. Instead, he was supporting the infantry on the right flank with a sword and his bow. It was being effective in providing a much needed morale boost, but it wasn’t his brightest move. Damn him for not knowing how to keep himself safe.

Your gaze fell upon Byleth, who in this world had long hair, cuter clothes and was Jeralt’s daughter instead of his son. She had advanced more, leading the knights fighting the Adrestian forces, so she wasn’t going to save Claude, as she always did. Not this time, when she was risking her neck. You panicked, thinking about what disaster would happen if the heir to the Alliance, the only nation fighting actively against the Adrestian invasion, fell in battle.

You were almost there, axe in hand.

“Claude!”, you shouted. The Golden Deer leader realised Sylvain was about to stab him in the back, but dodged the hit just in time. Claude rolled on his side, while Sylvain’s lance got stuck in the ground.

You took advantage of this chance, arriving just a few seconds later, and with a swing of your weapon you broke the handle of his weapon in two. Moving with the momentum, your propelled the edge of the axe to Sylvain’s body. You contained your breath, wishing he would move away, that he’d escape. That you’d see him alive in the next battle, even if it meant going through another hell. Maybe you’d both survive, overcome your differences. But he didn’t move away. He stayed in place.

A lost arrow pierced your thigh. Even if you didn’t feel it at all thanks to the adrenaline pumping through your blood, it made you face reality.

Sylvain, disarmed, was on the other side of your weapon. You let go of the handle. It had cracked his armour, and his hot blood was flowing down. Sylvain fell to his knees, his face completely white.

“I’m sorry, Sylvain...” you said, as you fell backwards, unable to use your right leg due to the deep wound. He smiled but stayed completely still. Life was slowly escaping his body. You threw up on your side.

“Ignatz! Cover me!”, you heard Claude shouting. It seemed distant, while in reality he was too close. He was shouting your name, too, but your gaze was fixed on Sylvain. You couldn’t speak or move. Claude lifted you and placed you in his arms, carrying you somewhere safe. Sylvain was still alive, yet immobile. You couldn’t help thinking about him. Why was no one helping him? Is he going to die alone on the battlefield? Claude’s voice, assuring you that you were going to be alright, started to fade and his face was getting blurry…

“Are you okay!?” Sylvain was shaking your shoulder. You were laid down on his bed and he was above you.

“Yes”, you answered, eyes open wide. You got up, and you returned to the position you had been in before on Sylvain’s bed. “What happened?”

“You’ve been gone for 5 minutes. As in, eyes opened, not responding to anything. I was about to call an ambulance.” Sylvain inspected you closely, quite worried. You could sense his breath on your skin.

“I’m fine”, you whispered, still a bit disoriented and dizzy.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded.

“Sylvain,” you called his name, his hand still on your shoulder. “What happened after you killed me? Did you see that?” Why did you want to know?

“Ah, yes. Ferdinand killed me afterwards”, he groaned. “He was avenging your death…”

“Typical of him. I’ll make sure to thank him, though. It was very thoughtful,” you joked. “What about Claude? And Dimitri?”

“They were dead too. Fallen in combat,” he said with an unsure voice. “Edelgard was the one reigning after that, or so I’ve thought. It makes sense.”

“I recall professor Byleth there, behind me. He was fighting side by side with Edelgard. They must have won.” You agreed with a gesture. “What about when we married? Was Byleth there?”

“Yes. Next to Dimitri. I think they got married too. That time, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus got the victory.” He crossed his arms, but his leg was touching yours. “What are you implying?”

“I killed you to protect Claude”, you started. The redhead knitted his brows.

“We already know that,” Sylvain commented, annoyed.

“Why are you so irritated?” You got confused why he was hasty upon mentioning Claude, until a certain thought crossed your mind.

“No reason, just that the last thing I got to see was you in the arms of Claude.” He sighed. A smile found its way on your lips, an eyebrow raising.

“Are you jealous?” You teased him.

“Then, you got together with Claude after that. He commented something once about it,” Sylvain continued, ignoring your question. “Okay, keep going. What are you trying to say?”

“The war is between the three countries of the continent of Fódlan. And the respective leaders of each are, coincidentally, the leaders of each House at Garreg Mach – former monastery, currently a high school.” He nodded, prompting you to carry on. “When I killed you, Claude was the winner. The other countries fell and the Alliance took over. And Byleth was at his side. The same happened with Edelgard and Dimitri respectively, right? So that might indicate that Byleth is the deciding piece of the board. Depending on what side he-”, you remembered how Byleth had different appearances, “-He, she, or they pick, the events change and makes their side win the war and, ultimately, take control of Fódlan.”

“And how did that occur to you?”, he looked concerned. “It’s plausible. I’m not questioning you, but it’s quite twisted.”

“Because they are the only thing that actually changes in the war. Everything seems the same until Byleth arrives.”

“Well, you changed from Houses all the time,” Sylvain pointed out.

“Every time, to join Byleth’s class. Don’t you see it?” You tried to convince him.

“It seems logical to think that Byleth has something to do with it but we can’t be sure…”

“It’s a hunch, Sylvain,” you explained. “I’m sure we have to talk to Byleth. We will find something. This time, when I saw Byleth fighting, something clicked.”

Sylvain hugged you without a warning. He buried his head on the crook of your neck and enclosed you in his arms. Your hands rested against his chest, you trapped and unable to make a single move. The warmth surrounding you felt so warm, so comforting. Everything was going to be okay, Sylvain was there, and he won’t be gone this time.

“I’m scared that this will lead to a dead-end street. But… at last we’ve found a clue. I’ve been waiting for this forever…” He said with a strained tone. Sylvain’s voice was quiet. He didn’t want to let you go.

“It’s thanks to all your work, Sylvain. Everything you wrote was very useful…” You smiled, leaning into his embrace, almost melting. “You had noticed too Byleth was an important factor–”

“I’m just really happy you’re here with me. That you haven’t chosen Claude or Edelgard over me this time.” He chuckled, trying to shoo away the remainders of sadness. “Not gonna lie here, I’m extremely happy you didn’t choose Claude. That bastard.”

“Hey,” you reprimanded him. “Claude is nice. It’s not his fault we’re in this mess.”

“Well, he took you away from me once”, Sylvain said as he hugged you closer. “Have I told you that you married him?”

“What did you want me to do? You were dead!” You chuckled. It was weird to talk so lightly about it, but Sylvain became more comfortable the less relevant it felt. “This feels nice…”, you muttered, turning your face to kiss the top of his head. His red hair was soft, and it smelt of citrus. “So now we’re on hugging terms?”

“Yes”, Sylvain affirmed. “I might never let you go now that we crossed that line.”

“I wouldn’t mind…”

But a loud gasp resounded behind you. The tender moment that you wished would last forever was suddenly replaced with surprise.

“I’m so sorry Sylvain!” A voice shouted, someone that you identified as Dimitri. He closed the door with a slam.

Sylvain moved away, averting his eyes. His cheeks were blushing, and your own were warm too.

“I’m going to explain to Dimitri that we weren’t doing anything weird, okay?”, he scratched his head, again, and you recognised it as a gesture he made when he felt awkward. Little by little, you had been learning his non-verbal language. “I don’t want him traumatized for all his life.” You giggled.

“Does it make you nervous that Dimitri thinks we’re banging? He only saw us hugging,” You questioned daringly.

“Shut up”, he flashed his handsome smile. Flirting was an art he had mastered, and he felt confident with it. “And say that you’re staying for dinner, instead.”

“Not if you’re cooking instant noodles, Sylvain”, you narrowed your eyes. “That’s not a real dinner. You won’t trick me – I’ve seen all the packages in the cupboards.”

“First, we’re in college, and everything’s valid.” He stood up with a flourish. “Second, Dimitri had gone to the supermarket, so he’s the one cooking. It relaxes him.”

“Okay, he cooks real food. I’m staying then.”

“Perfect.” Sylvain winked, as he ran out of the room. His voice could be heard all over the apartment, and Dimitri was still stuttering. You smiled to yourself and took out your phone and opened the app to write an email.

[From: YOU - To: [email protected]]

Dear Professor Eisner,

I hope everything is fine.

Sylvain Jose Gautier and I are having a few questions regarding the bibliography of our project. We’d like to meet you next week to settle the matter and discuss some work.

Thank you very much.

“I’ve never skipped classes legally before”, commented Sylvain casually.

You two were navigating the corridors of the building where teachers had their offices. Everything was dull and generic, except for the occasional cabinets that displayed trophies and nameplates that students and professors had earned long ago.

“That’s why you were in detention all the time”, you reminded him.

“It was intentional. I wanted to strengthen my relationship with Seteth”, he said, laughing. You had to give in and laugh too, not only because he was actually funny, but because his humour was contagious. You couldn’t help but mirror it.

You eyed him from head to toe. Your companion was wearing a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt. He had a dark-grey, almost black blazer with rolled up sleeves on due to the chilliness in the air. His attire rang a bell.

“Why are you dressing like we did in the Monastery?” You wondered out loud to him.

“Because I’m pretty hot in black and white”, Sylvain chuckled in delight with a deep and sexy tone. He was right. You could outline with a glance his body, which was pretty well built. Of course, you did everything you could to deny it, so you put on your best deadpan face. “Okay, okay. I think it might make Byleth nervous.”

“Now that’s a joke,” you remarked. “Byleth barely showed any emotion during a war. Do you think it takes so little to irk him?”

“You might be right,” he conceded.

“Here!” You grabbed Sylvain’s sleeve, bringing him back after he walked past the correct door.

“The nameplate says Dr. Gloucester. Do you need your eyes checked?” Sylvain emphasized.

“Dr. Gloucester retired, and they gave his office to Byleth. He told us the first day! What were you doing?”

“Okay, okay,” he rolled his light brown eyes. “You knock.”

“What are you? Five?” You said while hitting the door with your knuckles.

“Come in,” Byleth’s voice came from the interior of the office.

You opened the door to see your professor encircled by lots of papers. No one can escape bureaucracy.

You stopped in the middle of the room. Right then, you felt an extraordinary sense of existence. As if all the years that had passed before your adventures with Sylvain were but a mere dream and your consciousness had come back to you a few weeks ago. You were sure that Byleth’s presence was having its own influence on you, now that you had regained a good number of your forgotten memories. There was a strange energy in the atmosphere.

Now that you considered it, this was just like that sweet time you spent at Garreg Mach Monastery. Wandering around to avoid boredom with Sylvain and finding much more than just entertainment, following Byleth around to ask all kinds of questions, spending the big seasonal events with your friends… That was what happiness looked like to you.

“You can take a seat,” Byleth said.

“Ah, yes, thank you.” You muttered. Sylvain was next to you in those uncomfortable iron chairs your university loved buying.

“What can I help you with?” He asked, ever so willing to help, yet enigmatic.

“Ah, we have a basic bibliography for the Crescent Moon War, but we’re lacking a few good articles in Loog’s biography”, Sylvain started, replaying the topics you had agreed on. “We don’t know if the authors are reliable.”

“I can take a look at those names”, Byleth smiled. “And I have a few books you could use.”

“That’d be great!”, you cheered with a fake façade. You had to admit, it was quite fun to play spies.

“They’re on that bookcase”, your professor pointed at the one right on your side. You stood up and started looking around.

“I had a question on Klaus I, that king of Faerghus, as well. What was the role he played in…”, Sylvain asked, so serious and well versed in the matter.

You disconnected from the conversation, turning to read the titles on the wall. You took a thick, blue book filled with dust, pretending it caught your interest. Then another black volume, with leather covers and golden letters. You kept investigating, about the Almyran invasion; the formation of the Academy of Garreg Mach, the base of your own high school; history of the Adrestian Empire… Nothing past the year 1000. It was quite suspicious.

You turned around, and Byleth was drawing a diagram for a focused Sylvain, who was all nods and questions. They couldn’t see you anymore, or at least it seemed so. Out of the corner of your eye, on the closest end of the professor’s large mahogany desk, you saw a bunch of letters. Discreetly, you looked up the sender. Curly letters with the address of Rhea were written there, right from the Cathedral.

You made sure Byleth’s vision was blocked by a stack of folders. With decision and a steady hand, you took the most recent one and hid it under your clothes. Desperate situations call for desperate measures, right? Besides, it wasn’t exactly stealing, and you had already made an excuse. ‘It got misplaced when I took the books you lent me, professor,’ you heard yourself say in your head.

“Is there anything else you need?” Byleth said, when his discussion with Sylvain was done. He clearly intended for you to leave, as it was getting late.

“No, we were going away now,” Sylvain confirmed, walking towards the door. You followed him. Yet you grew bold.

“Can I ask just one more thing?” You said to the professor right before exiting.

“Of course.” The man with the dark blue hair.

“I can’t seem to find how the Crescent Moon War influenced the later war of 1180,” you stated.

Byleth remained silent for a moment. His jaw tensed. Your heart pounded. Did you catch him?

“That’s because there wasn’t any war that year,” Byleth responded. His demeanour was calm and serious as ever. Had he been practicing?

“Oh, really?” You tried to sound candid, feigning surprise. “I’m really bad with dates! That must be it!”

“You might have confused a couple of battles with a war. The battle took place around that year, but there wasn’t any declaration of war made” Byleth declared with a tense smile.

“Sorry for the trouble!” You exclaimed at last, urging Sylvain to go out with your elbow.

You closed the door behind you, and walked fast to distance yourself from any of the offices.

“What was that?” Sylvain was shocked.

“Wait until we get out of here,” You begged.

Once you were on the common grounds of the student buildings, you stopped Sylvain. There was nobody around, as they were still in class. The ginger plopped himself on a bench.

“That was a good shot, but you were right”, he shrugged. “Byleth’s cold blood won’t make it easy. You were right, he’s special, I could feel a kind of connection… But we got nothing out of this…”

“I might have something”, you looked at him intently.

“On the books he gave you?”, he tilted his head. “Because I have revised all the library and –”

You took the opened letter out of your blouse. The silver details shone under the light.

“What the hell!”, Sylvain shouted. You shushed him, making desperate gestures with your arms to keep him from attracting any attention. You were paranoid, even though you were alone. Instead of any logical reaction, he had a fit of laughter.

“What?” You asked, irked.

“I thought you were physically incapable of anything remotely wrong in a moral sense!” He kept laughing, despite your attempts to quiet him down. “Why did you take it? Another hunch?”

“If you don’t get caught, you don’t get punished”, you said in a sarcastic tone.

“I knew it! You’re just as bad as me!” Sylvain was delighted.

“I might be,” You admitted because, well, he was right. Stealing the mail was a serious crime. But you took a small comfort in the pride and surprise Sylvain made you feel. You were no longer your dull, old self, that went on with the flow of events. No, you had a goal – multiple goals, in fact – and you were going to be an active participant in your life.

In that moment you wanted to kiss Sylvain again. But you had other priorities.

“Are we going to read this or not?” You dared him.

“Don’t ask me twice.”

#sylvain x reader #sylvain jose gautier #sylvain jose gautier x reader #fe3h fanfiction #fe3h fanfic #sylvain gautier #fire emblem three houses fanfiction

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missjanjie · 3 years

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Hold Me Tighter (Even Closer) | (7/?)

Title: Hold Me Tighter (Even Closer) Summary: A sequel to Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer. Brooke Lynn and Vanessa are back at NYU, but with new and improved positions. Brooke’s ready to start her career as a professor when, as fate would have it, she realizes her TA, Jackie, might have the hots for a student named Jan. The couple just might see it as a sign to give two new girls the love story they found in the same place. Word Count: ~2.9k (this chapter) / ~21k (total) Relationship(s): Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo), Jankie (Jan Sport/Jackie Cox) Rating: E

read on ao3 | ko-fi

Chapter Summary: Tensions suddenly come to a head between Jan and Jackie, leading the two of them to handle the fallout in very different ways.

When Brooke Lynn walked into her classroom and saw Jackie already there, pacing back and forth, worry was her obvious, immediate reaction. “Penny for your thoughts?” she asked after clearing her throat to get her attention.

Jackie managed to stand still and lean against Brooke’s desk to catch her breath. “Have you seen Jan’s instagram story?”

“No,” she answered as she sat down at her desk, “because on principle I tend to avoid my students’ social media. Why?”

“Oh, so that’s where you draw the line?” she scoffed as she got her phone out and opened the app. “Here, look.”

Brooke took Jackie’s phone from her and opened Jan’s story. From what she could see, Jan had gone out the previous Saturday with some of her Heathers castmates – the girls playing the title characters, if she had to guess, considering each post was captioned with ‘#theheathers’. They were drinking and dancing, the whole thing appeared to be relatively innocuous. It was typical college girl behavior. “Okay… seems like a girls’ night out, what’s the issue?”

“Go to the next one.”

With a roll of her eyes, Brooke obliged. In the next story, the girls were dancing and grinding on each other to a techno beat. But then the camera zoomed in on Jan and Nicky sharing an innocent enough close-lipped peck, though Nicky’s hands were on Jan’s ass in a pointedly non-innocent manner. They shared another couple kisses, both of them giggling the whole time. “Is that it?” she asked as she handed the phone back to Jackie.

Jackie looked at her incredulously, mouth agape. “What do you mean ‘is that it’? Were we not watching the same clip?”

Brooke shrugged. “She went out with some friends, got drunk, and got handsy with one of them. I don’t see what the big deal is - she’s nineteen, this is how kids have fun.”

“So you would’ve been fine if it were Vanjie grinding and kissing on some pretty girl?”

“First of all,” she put a hand up to stop her, “Vanjie was already my girlfriend at this point, comparatively. Whereas Jan is a girl you’re fucking because you’re allergic to talking about how you feel about her. Second of all, we did have a run-in with jealousy, but that’s another story entirely,” Brooke answered. “But we wouldn’t have gotten past it if we didn’t know how to fucking communicate.”

Jackie looked down, feeling like a child being scolded, and sat at one of the student desks. “Will you tell me the jealousy story?” she asked, voice meek. She had always seen Brooke and Vanessa’s relationship as perfect, above reproach. Knowing that even they could have a bump in the road made her feel a bit better.

Brooke’s expression softened. “Sure. So, Vanj was doing this big dance competition, as was this other dancer from Julliard. And I mean this girl is all over her from day one, pissed me the hell off,” she recalled. She shook her head because looking back, the story felt a bit ridiculous to tell, but maybe that would help even more.

“Jump ahead to this Halloween party she throws and invites us to, and once again she’s all over my girl. But what got me was how Vanessa bought into it. I got pissed and left and she admitted she was only flirting with her because she liked the jealous, angry sex we had so much.”

“I don’t know what I expected,” Jackie admitted with the slightest hint of a laugh, “but it wasn’t that. How’d you guys get past it?”

“Vanessa made a very sweet, if not a bit corny gesture and it led to this romantic little reunion in the studio,” she concluded. “So, from there on out we made sure to talk about our feelings instead of leaving things up to chance by hoping we’ll guess what’s wrong with each other. See? Different situations entirely, but we didn’t solve it by avoiding tough conversations.”

Jackie groaned and hid her head on the desk. “I objectively know you’re right,” she conceded. “I’m gonna talk to her, I promise.”

Brooke gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You got this,” she said with confidence as she stood up. “Now look alive, class starts in five.”

“I got this,” Jackie repeated to herself before focusing her energy towards shifting into ‘teacher mode’. It was always something that provided a good, if not necessary, distraction. When she was being a teacher, her personal life faded into the background. Even Jan turned into another student in the class, and God knows that was a weight lifted from her.

And class did go off without a hitch, especially since she spent most of it doing paperwork while Brooke led the class. Teacher mode gave her focus, tunnel vision. In fact, she hardly said a word until after Brooke dismissed the students. Then she did speak. “Hey, Jan, can you hang back for a bit?”

Jan seemed surprised but nodded quickly. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up,” she said to Gigi before turning back to Jackie. “What’s up?” she asked, not noticing that Brooke had quietly slipped out of the room along with her classmates.

It was then that Jackie realized she hadn’t planned out what she was going to say. Why hadn’t she spent some of those ninety minutes doing something more useful than grading texts? She was mad at herself and anxiety began bubbling up inside of her. Improvising it was. “I… um… saw that you uploaded some videos from Saturday onto your story last night…”

“Oh yeah, I went out with the Heathers. It was a cute place, great cocktails,” Jan chirped as casually as she would discuss the weather. To the untrained eye, it seemed like she was truly oblivious to what could’ve bothered Jackie about what she posted.

But Jackie knew better. She knew Jan was a talented actress, that she’d had since last night (or even since Saturday) to prepare an answer and that, for lack of a better phrase, she was trying to bullshit her. “Don’t get cute, Jan. You know what I’m talking about. What’s going on with you and Nicky?”

Jan tilted her head. “I never tagged her or told you her name, how did you know it?”

Fuck. Jackie could’ve kicked herself for that. Evidently, improv wasn’t her strong suit, and on top of that, she was a terrible liar, leaving her with no choice. “I happened to be by the auditorium during one of your rehearsals. You guys seem… close.”

“Maybe we are close,” Jan conceded. “I don’t see the problem, pretty sure I can get ‘close’ to whoever I want, right?”

She stiffened, clenching her jaw. “So you are fucking her?”

Jan clicked her tongue and scoffed. “No, I’m not. But who are you to get pissy at me about it? It’s not like I need to ask your permission to hook up with other people.”

“I’m not being pissy,” Jackie insisted, unable to avoid sounding defensive. “But if you want her, let me know. I’m not gonna waste my time.”

“Oh, so now what we’ve had is a ‘waste of time’ because I might be attracted to someone else too?” Jan snapped.

She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, no that’s not what I mean. I don’t-”

“Please,” Jan put her hand up and waved her off. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Jackie,” she hissed, then turned on her heel, leaving before Jackie could respond.

The hall was silent except for her heels against the linoleum. As she rounded the corner and headed out of the building, she fished her phone out of her pocket and made a call. “Hey, are you busy? Good, I’m coming over, I’ll be there in ten.”

Jan couldn’t even remember the walk from the main building to the dorms. A rush of anger-fueled adrenaline propelled her forward – it was like she blinked and suddenly she was banging on Nicky’s door.

Nicky opened the door. “Hey, what’s going on? You sounded-” she was cut off by Jan kissing her hard, fisting her hand into her hair and pulling her close. She blinked in surprise when her mouth was freed. “Um… What is happening? Am I fucking you? Is that where this is going?”

“You’re so smart and perceptive, it’s so sexy,” she breathed out before reconnecting their lips, kicking the door shut behind her.

“You don’t have to sweet talk me, babygirl. I’ve been waiting for this.”

Jan let out a small sigh of relief as she backed onto Nicky’s bed, pulling the blonde down with her. She immediately resumed kissing her eagerly, sloppily. There was a tangle of limbs as their clothes were yanked off and tossed every which way, she couldn’t seem to get naked fast enough. “Don’t be gentle with me,” she breathed out, “I need it hard, need you to fuck me til I forget how to think or feel.”

Nicky paused, her lips curling into a smirk. “Hard, huh? I think I know just what to do.” She got up and rifled through her drawer until she pulled out a harness and the dildo that strapped onto it. “I’m gonna take good care of you,” she assured.

Jan’s eyes lit up and she laid back readily, propping her legs apart and arching her hips up when Nicky got herself in position. Her body trembled in anticipation as she watched Nicky slick up the silicone cock with lube. The waiting felt like torture as her desire built up faster than she could deal with and it culminated with a sharp moan when Nicky finally eased it in.

“Good girl,” she gently praised, giving her a moment to adjust – it was one of her bigger ones and she knew Jan would feel it. Once she was certain the girl under her was ready, she switched to a rough, fast thrusting pace. One hand was roughly pulling on Jan’s ponytail, the other carefully wrapping around her neck, applying just enough pressure to make her whimper and squirm. If Jan wanted it hard and rough, she was more than happy to oblige.

And Jan was even more certain this was exactly what she needed. As she moaned and writhed about, all she could focus on was how good it felt. The tinges of physical pain were arousing, and enough to distract from the emotional pain that was trying to linger. She needed Nicky to choke her, slap her, pull her hair, anything to keep her grounded solely in the moment. “Yes, fuck, please don’t stop,” she begged.

Not that Nicky was planning on it. Her hips snapped forward with each thrust, the sound of skin smacking together filling the room, only to be drowned out by Jan’s moans when she hit her orgasm. “That’s it, come for me,” she encouraged, fucking her through it until she was certain Jan was completely spent. She looked down at the brunette as she pulled out, pleased with how utterly wrecked she looked.

“Fuck…” Jan panted breathlessly, laying flat on the bed and letting her eyes shut for a moment. Even with her eyes closed, she was seeing stars. “Thanks, Nicky. You have no idea how badly I needed that.”

“You don’t wanna talk about it, do you?” Nicky teased after she cleaned up and got under the covers with her.

Jan shook her head, then hid her face in the crook of Nicky’s neck. The last thing she wanted was to think about what sparked her urge to come here in the first place. “I don’t even want to think about it. Can we just… take a nap?”

“Perfect idea,” she yawned as her eyes closed.

The two of them slept in silence for about an hour, with Jan being the first to wake up. For a moment, everything was warm and peaceful, she didn’t feel anything but comfort and bliss.

Slowly but surely, however, the negative feelings of hurt, anger, and spite slipped back in and led her to grab her phone off of Nicky’s nightstand. She had to do something to make herself feel better. “The lighting is so good right now, we should take a selfie.”

Nicky yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Fine, but only post it if we look cute,” she warned before posing so Jan could take pictures. She then watched over Jan’s shoulder as she uploaded one to her instagram story. “Wow, who are you trying to give jealousy with that one?”

“Is it that obvious?” asked Jan, blushing.

“A little bit,” Nicky giggled. “But I don’t mind, if you’re going to use anyone for that, I’m a great choice.” She laid back down and got her own phone out to share it to her story. “Do you think it’ll work?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

------

Brooke sighed as she looked at her phone for what had easily been the tenth time since she left the apartment. “Still no answer, but I just know she’s at home. She has to be.”

Vanessa nodded as they walked. “In the whole time we known her, she never ignores your texts, definitely not your calls. That picture got her all sorts of fucked up.”

Normally, Brooke adhered to her own set of rules to a T, but she had to break them when she sensed something was wrong with Jackie. And sure enough, when she checked Jan’s story (from Vanessa’s account), everything made sense. That was what had them rushing to her apartment, despite it rapidly approaching the middle of the night.

“She ain’t gonna get mad about you using the ‘emergency only’ key, is she?” Vanessa asked as she watched her wife rifle through her purse.

“I would consider this an emergency,” she defended as she unlocked the door and let them in. “Wait here, I’m gonna poke my head into her room and assess the situation.”

Vanessa waited patiently, arching her brow when Brooke returned. “What’s the tea?”

Brooke had a concerned, unnerved expression on her face like she was still processing what she had just walked in on. “We have a code gray.”

She furrowed her brows. “Jackie’s a violent hospital patient?”

“What? No. Also, how do you know that? Nevermind,” Brooke shook her head as she tried to stay on task. “She’s code gray as in Conan Gray, come look,” she explained before quietly leading Vanessa to the partially opened door.

Jackie was sitting on the floor against the side of her bed. She was wearing a purple letterman jacket that Brooke and Vanessa could ascertain was accidentally left there by Jan. ‘Heather’ by Conan Gray was playing, most likely having been on loop for God knows how long.

Vanessa realized how bad this was, and looked up at Brooke, waiting for instruction as to where to go from there.

Brooke decided to take the lead, carefully walking into the room with her wife following. “You okay, Jackie?” she asked gently.

“I ruined everything,” Jackie replied in a broken whisper. “I couldn’t deal with how I feel about her and I pushed her into a French actresses’ bed.” She laid down on the floor and sighed. “I can’t believe I fucked in this badly.”

Brooke and Vanessa propped Jackie back up, both wrapping an arm around her. “Hey, don’t talk like that. This is just a bump in the road, it’s not over yet,” Brooke assured.

“How can you be so sure of that?” Jackie sniffled.

“I just know.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

Vanessa decided to chime in. “Ain’t it obvious what you gotta do?” She received blank stares from both Jackie and Brooke. “Jan just wants to know you’re all in with her. She’s clearly just using blondie over there to make you jealous… We’ve all been there.”

“Speak for yourself,” Brooke retorted playfully.

She rolled her eyes at her wife. “What I’m sayin’ is she wanted to get under your skin and it worked. Maybe too well, but she got what she wanted. Now you just gotta tell her how you really feel, how bad you want her.”

Jackie hesitated, fiddling with the sleeves of the jacket. “Easy for you to say. I can’t just do big romantic declarations… I overthink way too much for that.”

“Well, that’s where we’re here to help,” Vanessa chirped brightly. “Under-thinking is my specialty.”

“Do you think you’re ready to try?” Brooke asked gently.

Jackie chewed on her lip and looked down. “I just… I’m scared,” she confessed.

The girls nodded in understanding – neither of them could blame Jackie for her fear and apprehension. Both of them knew what it was like to have someone you’d risk everything for while having a terrible fear of the potential fallout. They knew how fortunate they were to have so clearly had mutual feelings from the beginning, but they hadn’t been free from a rocky start. And they had faith in Jan and Jackie, while neither could explain it, they had to see it through.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Brooke assured. “So, we’re gonna get you through this.”

“Will you guys spend the night?” Jackie asked after a few beats of silence, long enough for her to be sure she wouldn’t start crying. “It’s getting kind of depressing, and drinking alone would be the thing to push it over the edge.”

“You had us at drinking,” Vanessa joked, pleased to see it got a smile out of Jackie. “Don’t worry, we ain’t going nowhere.”

#jankie #rpdr rpf #rpdr fic #rpdr fanfiction #rpdr fanfic

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Hold Me Tighter (Even Closer) Chapter 7 (Branjie, Jankie) - Joley

Chapter Summary: Tensions suddenly come to a head between Jan and Jackie, leading the two of them to handle the fallout in very different ways.

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