#nervous reader

“Late for our discussion on temporal mechanics, are we?” he said without looking up.

You grinned, stepping into view with a stack of books tucked under your arm. “Only because I was busy proving your theorem on recursive algorithms incomplete. Again.”

Ratio’s smirk deepened. “I expected no less from you. Care to enlighten me?”

You set your books down with a soft thud and leaned forward, gesturing at one of the diagrams in his manuscript. The two of you dove into an intense debate, trading ideas and insights like dueling swords. Your conversations were always this way: sharp, challenging, and utterly exhilarating.

After hours of discourse, the library grew quieter. The steady hum of your voices faded into a companionable silence as you both sat back, basking in the afterglow of shared brilliance.

Ratio’s gaze lingered on you, his expression uncharacteristically soft. “You know, it’s rare to find someone who can keep pace with me,” he said. His tone was casual, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

You laughed nervously, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Well, someone has to keep you grounded. Otherwise, your ego might collapse into a singularity.”

He chuckled, a low, melodious sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Perhaps. But you’re not just an equal—you’re… more.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotion. Before you could respond, Ratio leaned closer, his striking eyes locking onto yours. His confidence was palpable, but there was a hint of hesitation, as if he was stepping into uncharted territory.

“May I?” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You nodded, your breath hitching as he closed the distance. His lips brushed against yours, gentle at first, then firmer as the moment deepened. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that perfect, fleeting instant.

When you pulled back, your heart was racing, your thoughts a jumbled mess. Instead of saying something romantic or profound, your nerves got the better of you.

“Did you know the ancient Egyptians used honey as an antibacterial ointment?” you blurted out.

Ratio blinked, clearly caught off guard. You clapped a hand over your mouth, mortified, but the corners of his lips twitched into a grin.

“Fascinating,” he said, his tone teasing. “I assume this is your way of processing… overwhelming stimuli?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

He gently pried your hands away, his smile warm and uncharacteristically tender. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s endearing.”

You gave him a skeptical look, but his gaze was so earnest that you couldn’t help but relax.

“Besides,” he continued, leaning back with a smug expression, “it’s fitting that our first kiss would be followed by a discussion on ancient medical practices. I wouldn’t expect anything less… unique from you.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you adore me.” He reached for your hand, his touch sending a thrill through you. “Shall we continue our discussion? Perhaps this time, you can focus on me instead of ancient Egypt.”

Despite your embarrassment, you found yourself laughing. “Deal. But only if you can keep up.”

Ratio’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh, my dear, I always do.”

You pass a neighboring gated community, and your breath catches. But as Ky continues to drive, passing the neighborhood because it's not your destination, and slump in your seat. Able to breathe correctly for a few extra minutes.

Ky offered to drive even if she couldn’t meet or come into the dorms. She knew you wouldn't have been able to drive yourself, and she has continued to glance at you throughout the whole ride. Seeing you fidget and having your anxiety spike even higher per second. 

Ky puts her hand on your bouncing leg, stopping it, and you look away from the window to look a her. She smiles at you, and it's welcoming, but it only slightly calms your nerves. 

"Relax. You've both been talking for months, so Tae's not exactly a stranger."

"Yeah, I know that, but this isn't exactly a normal meet-up either. I'm meeting a fucking idol, for god's sake! I didn't even take the V.I.P. tickets you offered me to the Lady Gaga concert because I was too nervous about meeting her! Lady Gaga, one of America's sweetest celebrities, and I was nervous about meeting her. Now, I'm going to a celebrities house!"

You slide your back further down the seat. Sinking further into the depth of your anxiety. You pinch your thumb, trying to remind yourself. your alive, so you don't end up having an anxiety attack when you're only a mile away from the destination. 

Ky sighs then after an encouraging squeeze takes her hand off of your thigh to put it back on the steering wheel. 

"Okay, then. Let's get your mind off the subject. I want to talk to Mara."

You look over too Ky again, and she looks determined as fuck in that moment. This isn't precisely a 'let's just casually change the subject' type of thing. Ky's actually been meaning to talk to you about this for a while. 

"Ky, you don't have to. You and Mara have been friends since before I even came to this country. I don't want to be the person that divides you both."

Ky rolls her eyes at you.

"Trust me, sweetheart. You're not. She's been a bitch lately, but there's definitely something going on with her that we don't know about, and I want to find out just what that something is."

"But what if Mara doesn't want to talk?"

Ky glances at you, and you watch her determined face fall. It will definitely be heartbreaking for Ky if her best friend since kindergarten casts her out ultimately. For the second time, too. You don't know if you want to see Ky go through that again.

“I don’t know,” Ky whispers out and her words are full of sorrow.

Yeah, you had your wallowing moment over the loss of your friendship with Mara, but for Ky, it's different. Ky doesn't have anyone but you, Mara, and her boyfriend, James. Her parents died when she turned 16 in a fatal car accident, and Mara's parents took her in. She was always treated like family, but after this terrible event, Mara became more like a sister to her than a friend.

When Ky met James, they moved in with each other two years later. But Mara and her family still considered her a part of the family. You always envied Mara's and Ky's relationship. It wasn't like you were the third wheel to the Ky and Mara show, but there's always been an unbreakable bond between the two girls.

You just hoped Kwang didn't find a way to break that bond. For Ky's sake and your own.

When you feel the car come to a complete stop, you look out the window and realize Ky stopped at the front gate. Which could only mean one thing...

You've arrived.

-

After the front gate employee let you in, after you gave several forms of I.D.s, Ky drove you up to the dorm number Taehyung texted you this morning. Ky looks completely ecstatic. Looking everywhere she can without keeping her eyes off the road for too long.

This may be considered a gated community, but there wasn't many complex's in it. But you also knew that’s no why she was ecstatic. You watch your friend practically jump for joy as she drives, and feel your own smile pop on your face. Loving watching Ky get excited for just the prospect of driving to the BTS dorm.

When Ky pulls up to the right dorm, you feel your heart stop for a second. Staring at the home that houses the person you just realized you're in love with yesterday.

After a few moments of just taking the scene of their luxuries dorm in, you pull out your phone with shaking fingers and text Taehyung you’re here. After a few minutes, he reads your text and says he'll be out in 5.

You turn to Ky, and she has the biggest smile on her face still.

"Well, go on now.” She gestures with her hand to her out of the care. “Text me about every little detail later."

You giggle at your friend's subtle remark about wanting to know everything, and anything, about what happens in the BTS dorm. You then exchange a quick hug and exit Ky's car. Watching her drive down the driveway until she's out of sight.

You then look up the few flights of stairs and keep trying to remind yourself to breathe. That's Taehyungs's just a guy - a super famous, sexy as fuck, makes your heart run a mile a minute - type of guy. You squeeze your purse strap and dig your nails into your palm. Not letting the anxiety attack win.

You're alive and about to meet your penpal. Time to think positive thoughts about it.

You're meeting the guy you've been talking to for over two months. The guy who made you come out of your shell more and more each time you spoke to each other. Who made you forget the terrible parts of your past and made you look positively at the future. The guy who turned your life upside down, but you'll gladly keep doing these backflips for. The guy your heart has let you grow a little bigger for. The guy you've fallen in love with and feel the connection you always wanted.

Okay, Y/n. You got this.

You start going up the flight of stairs, and as you make it to the final few steps, the door opens. It opens incredibly slow, and you hear the marble door scrape across the ground lightly. It's like time has slowed down as it inches open, and then it stops altogether when it opens all the way. Presenting you with the man you've come all this way just to meet.

There he is...

-

As Crowley slowly walks to you, Dean slams the trunk shut with a clash. He whirls around, and runs to jump between you and Crowley, glaring at him as the demon eyes up and down your body.

Your eyes fluctuate between Crowley’s and Sam’s, and onto Dean’s back. You rub your arm with your hand, looking down at the ground and feeling very uncomfortable the focus being shifted to you. Crowley waves a hand, sending Dean into the dirt with a grunt.

Crowley closes the distance, standing in front of you now, and bringing the back of his fingers to the side of your face. He tilts his head as he coasts them along your cheek.

“Don’t touch her,” Dean growls, pushing off the ground to stand.

Crowley only laughs, “she’s quite a babe,” he says, “I can see why you’re so protective of her.”

You smile weakly, eyes pleading for Dean to step in.

“What do you want?” Sam growls, taking a step forward.

Crowley stays silent, putting his hand under your chin and moving it up to caress your cheek.

“I said don’t touch her!” Dean yells. Without even looking his way, Crowley holds an open palm up at them, freezing both in their tracks. They struggle to move, yelling out for you to step away from Crowley, but you feel just as frozen as they are.

Your eyes are stuck on Crowley, both of you dangerously aware of how your cheeks blush as he looks at you. Heat swarms your face, and you feel conflicted, shaky.

He turns to face the boys, “I’m here to make a deal,” he says, folding his hands together.

“No way,” Sam says, his jaw tight.

Crowley chuckles, “oh, but you see, I have an offer you’d be just silly to turn away.” He pivots to face you, his hand on your cheek and moving onto your shoulder. Goosebumps run across your body as his hand trails down your arm.

When you look up from the dirt, your eyes link with Dean as he stares you down, eyebrows pushed together. Nodding, you try to reassure him that you’re okay, but he lightly shakes his head.

“I get a night with Y/N, and in exchange, you two boneheads walk out of here alive, hm?” he says, half of his mouth turned up in a smile.

Dean hums, sarcastically thinking it over before shouting out a quick, “not gonna happen.”

Crowley turns his wrist and all that you see is Dean’s head falling back like he’s being choked. His eyes clench shut as he gasps for air, struggling to breathe. Heat fills you, a panic that dances with your nerves, and as if you’re underwater you hear a muffled yell from Sam, shouting Dean’s name.

With wide eyes you look at Crowley, putting your hand onto his arm. “I’ll do it!” you shout, gripping tightly onto his arm, “please, just... let him go,” you say softly, your voice shaking. Crowley looks down at your hand, and you rip it away. He smiles, releasing the grip on Dean. Waving a hand, the boys drop, no longer frozen and catching their breath.

Crowley wraps his hand around you, and as they run at you he snaps his fingers. The last thing you hear before you disappear with Crowley, is Dean calling out your name in a heart-shattering shrill.

You open your eyes to a surprising scene; a normal looking room with a normal looking bed, covered by a duvet with a canopy above it. On either side of it are night stands, with lit black and red candles. You rotate your body around in search of Crowley, and when you don’t see him, you stalk for the door.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you bump into Crowley, spilling the contents of the two champagne flutes he holds. He looks at the spill, then up at you, the smile never leaving his face.

“Tsk, tsk,” he shakes his head. “I just had this carpet redone,” he says. He walks past you towards the bed, but you keep your eyes and body facing the door. You hear the squeak of his mattress as he sits. “You’re welcome to run, love. Though, you ought to know the demons guarding my door are as hungry for blood as I am for you,” he says in a deep, rich voice. He slurps a bit of the champagne, “ick,” he grumbles. Hearing the snap of his fingers makes you flinch, eyes clenching shut, but when you open them, you stand in the same place you were, unharmed.

When you turn around, you see him holding a new glass with an amber liquid in it, he takes a sip of it before smiling. Extending his arm, he holds the flute out for you to take, “go on then, I won’t bite,” he smirks, “not unless you ask me to.”

You feel heat in the pit of your stomach at the way his last words hit, cursing yourself for feeling how you do.

He stands, slowly walking towards you and your eyes shift to the ground. With his head next to yours, he whispers into your ear, “I know you want this. I can feel you squirm around me, kitten,” he whispers, “how you look at me when their around,” he says, voice softer than before.

You shake your head, attempting to step back, but your legs feel like jelly. Your body is shaking, nerves rattling around inside of you. His head turns into the side of your face, lips and scruff tickling your ear. Your eyes fall shut, breath escaping you.

“You can tell Squirrel nothing happened,” he whispers, “if that’s what you’re worried about.” He presses his lips against the skin just behind your ear in a soft kiss. The little moan that makes its way out of your lips embarrasses you, and your head nearly drops against his shoulder. “I won’t let that cat out of the bag,” he chuckles, “promise,” he says the word slowly, ending it with another kiss just below your ear.

-

Hours have passed with you still missing. Dean anxiously paces the war room floor, a frown on his face as he internally beats himself up for letting Crowley just take you that damn easily. He should have told you how he felt before you were ripped away, before there was a chance he could never see you again.

“There’s gotta be something!” he shouts, mostly hoping the sharpness of his voice would cut the thoughts out. He halts his pace to turn to Sam.

Sam shrugs, “we don’t even know where he took her,” he says softly. “Hell most likely, but we can’t get there without a rogue reaper, and even then that’s the least of our worries.”

Dean grabs his coat, “then that’s what we’ll do,” he grumbles, “I’ll get her back if it’s the last thing I ever do,” he gently shouts, and when he turns around, he sees you walking towards them.

“Y/N,” he says in a breath, letting the coat hit the floor. He steps closer to you, his hands cupping your cheeks, “are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“Uh, I’m, I-” you stutter, cheeks flushing, “no, I’m okay.”

He looks you over once more before pulling you into his chest and hugging you tightly. When he pulls away he keeps his hands gripped onto your shoulders, eyes hopping back and forth between yours, then scanning your body for injuries. “What did he want? I can’t believe he just let you come back.”

“Yeah, well,” you say softly, looking down at your feet, “believe it,” you smile, wringing out your wrist with your hand. You play with your fingers, praying he doesn’t ask any other questions.

“Did something happen?” he asks, and your eyes dart up at him.

“No,” you shake your head, “he wanted to...” you shudder, “but I didn’t do anything.”

Dean nods, “good, okay, that’s good,” he sighs, pulling you in for another hug. “I don’t know what I would do without you,” he says softly, his hand cradling the back of your head.

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