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#/and/ i want to redo all of the body scars i gave him since they were just to test painting scars in substance 3d
wastelandhell · 1 year
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do you have a list of mods you use in your game? val always looks so pretty u_u
I have nearly 800 mods active rn and its kind of a mess in there, but here's some of the ones specific to him.
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I use Natural 2k face Textures for faces, I'm using an alternative ba2 packed version that used to be included in 2k LMCC ba2 but it looks like that has since been removed.
His body/hands are based on Samuel Redux from SynthOverboss. I did some edits to the normals/specs, as well as add all the body scars. That mod is based on Victoriam Line, which isn't hosted anymore but has been included in 4k Hairy Men EVB. The body and hand models are from BodyTalk 3.
I use Unique Player to give him a different body texture from npcs. I use HiPoly Faces REDUX for his face model, but iirc I had to do some fucking around in xEdit to get this to use the unique player skin for the maleheadRear.nif.
His eyes are from The Eyes of Beauty, but with material and normal/spec textures from TBOS-EyeOverhaul, which I can't find online anywhere. I've used a couple different teeth mods, I think I'm using xrayys natural teeth right now.
His face freckles are also from Samuel Redux, I edited the f4se file to change the blend modes and remove calls to broken textures. I edited these to have gaps where his scars are. I also duplicated the vanilla beard and eyebrows he uses and did the same so his scars cut through them. For extra textures I use one of the contours from Guyliner and probably something from LMCC but I'm not sure. His face scars are custom but I included them in Furby's Face Paints and Scars.
I use Oni vanilla hair re-texture for the vanilla hairstyles. His hair is a mashup of vanilla and azar ponytail assets but you can get something similar with "Maximum Casual" from Crocodile Hairstyle.
A big part of taking nice screenshots is just nice lighting. Without boring you; I use Reactor ENB with Screen Archer Menu to pose/light scenes, and FreeFlyCam to move the camera.
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mistresstaru · 2 years
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Virulent Waters, Chapter 4
Hey, guys. Thanks for the support for this fiction. Like I said before, I have a lot of blank spaces to fill with this fic. I don't quite know where to go with it. If anybody could pass me some ideas, especially in regards to Vi's character, I'd be very grateful and credit you for your ideas of course. Thank you.
Virulent Waters
 :::
 It was time for the gala redo. I’m nervous about it, about what Silco and his people are going to do, but mostly about him seeing me in this new dress. I asked my friend to help me pick it out and he knew right away that I wanted to look good for a man, and he squeezed out some details from me; nothing that needed to be kept a secret, just that he’s tall, thin and handsome, and apparently bisexual. And the dress he picked out… I’ve never worn anything so revealing before: a black dress with a plunging neckline and back and a damn slit up the thigh, with tasteful black jewelry and heels to go with it (he wanted me to get chandelier earrings and a necklace). He told me that I needed to show off what the Gods gave me. I never knew I had so much to show off. I looked in the mirror and felt beautiful, so I bought it and all the stuff that came with it, even a small rhinestone purse. Damn him… I love him.
 Two hours into the party and still no sign of Silco. I’ve been behaving this time, only having one glass of champagne and a small fruit tart for dessert, pretending to listen to all of these rich people’s ‘problems’ and just laughing and smiling, not even bringing up my ‘boring’ work. Then, the ladies I’ve been talking to suddenly stop and look toward the door, gasping and asking ‘Who is that?’ I turn around and there he is, standing there like he is above it all, again. As I thought, he’s wearing the same outfit (which is why I chose a black dress) and the eyepatch again. His scar is covered with foundation and his hair is slicked back again, too. But I didn’t care, because he looks gorgeous, and he’s here, and his eye finds mine, and he’s walking this way. The women are cooing and giggling; they don’t know he’s here for me. I finish my drink and awkwardly put it down as he reaches me.
 “May I have this dance, my dear?” He asks, taking my hand. I also happen to notice his eye dragging over my body, admiring my dress… maybe.
 “Y-Yes, of course.” I say, ignoring the disappointing sounds the other ladies are making. We walk to the dance floor, one hand still holding mine while the other gently grips my hip, politely avoiding exposed flesh. Thank the gods, or I would spontaneously combust. I put my hand on his shoulder and we sway to the boring music that somehow seemed beautiful and romantic now.
 “You look stunning.” He purrs. “I’m so sorry I’m wearing the same thing, but this is the only nice outfit I have.”
 “It’s completely fine. You also look stunning.” I smile. “And I must say, you’re very good at makeup. The first time I met you I couldn’t even tell you were wearing any.”
 “Thank you.” He grins. “If these kind of people saw my scar, they wouldn’t let me in.”
 “Well, they’re stupid.” I peek over at those women. They’ve moved on from Silco and have continued talking catty gossip. Morons. “You’re good at dancing, as well.” I clear my throat. “A lot of humans can’t even do that.”
 “I needed to practice, of course. After learning how to walk and run.”
 “I would think it’d be easier for an adult to learn how to walk than a baby, since they have more brains.”
 “You’d be surprised.” We laugh.
 “So… what’s the plan?” I whisper.
 “Instead of pyrotechnics, we’re going to create an ambience.” He grins. “Reach into my waistcoat on the left side.”
 “…” I ignore all the implications of that demand and just do it, slowly so no one sees. I pull out a face mask with a small filter. “You’re going to gas everyone?”
 “Yes. These people will know what we breathe every day in an evaporated form. They won’t die, but they’ll cough, choke, probably pass out or vomit. Except you, as long as you wear that.”
 “O-Okay.” I put it in my purse as subtly as I can before getting back into frame.
 “We’re also going to kidnap one of the Councilors.”
 “What? Who?”
 “Your friend, Jayce Talis.”
 “What?!” I say almost too loudly. “Why him? He’s actually not that bad of a person, I told you that! Why not someone no one likes, like Hoskel, or Salo?”
 “It needs to be someone they’d miss, and they’d miss their little golden boy. After all, he’s the one that makes them money.” He replies. I look away, realizing again what I’ve gotten myself into. He pulls me in closer, placing his elegant hand on the small of my back, now touching my skin and it seems to burn. I am going to combust, after all. “Listen, I never once claimed to be a good man. Most would consider me a villain. But you are not, and I understand that. If you decided to stop helping us, or never wanted to see me again… I’d be disappointed, but not surprised.” He whispers all this in my ear. I pull away to look at him. He looks genuinely sad about the prospect of me leaving him.
 “You are a good man.” I squeeze his shoulder. “You’ve just had enough.”
 “…” His lips tighten before exhaling slowly. “You’re too kind for your own good. Your scars are proof of that.” He dips me, touching the scars on my lower chest I got from the stray cat. I sigh and relax, craning my neck back and just letting him do both things. “You’ll know when it’s time to put the mask on, and you might want to hide while you’re doing it.”
 “R-Right.” I say as he pulls me up.
 “Honestly, you should just leave entirely, but something tells me you won’t.” He smirks before kissing my hand.
 “I’m not.” I purse my lips. “Just… treat him as kindly as you can. Feed him, you know? And let him go to the bathroom in a dignified way.”
 “Yes, dear.” He grins now, dropping my hand and turning to leave down one of the halls. My eyes follow him until they can’t anymore.
 :::
 Less than an hour goes by and they begin. I see green gas crawling through everyone’s feet. I catch a whiff of it before I put the mask on, and by the Gods is it rancid. I hide under a table, the cover providing some shielding but some of the gas comes in with me. It’s horrible, like a dumpster that’s never been emptied or… well, like toxic chemicals. The people are doing exactly what Silco said they would do, cough, choke, vomit and pass out. A woman actually passed out right in front of my table and I jumped a little. They were dropping their glasses, getting on their hands and knees, and trying for the way out, wondering what in the hells was going on
 “What you are breathing right now, people of Piltover, is what our people have to breathe every day of our lives.” I hear Silco’s voice booming all around the room; he must have hijacked the intercom. “You live rich and decadent lives while we are poisoned, disfigured, and dead long before our time. We… have had enough.” He says what I said to him. “We will be taking something from you tonight, and we’ll keep taking until you give us what we want: a clean home. Have a pleasant evening.” He stops talking but doesn’t stop the gas, and it must be getting worse. Everyone is scrambling for the exits. I need to leave, too, but I don’t want anyone to see that I have a mask. I get the idea to cover it with a tissue I have in my purse, and wait until most everyone have left before I pop out from under the table, getting behind everyone as they push past each other to get out of the building. What embarrassing behavior, I realize. Humans are supposed to be the most intelligent species but in times of crisis, their brains don’t work as survival mode kicks in. Of course, who knows how I’d be behaving if I didn’t have a mask to help me breathe.
 People are screaming, running down the streets if they could, and those who couldn’t collapsed on the ground, gasping for the cleaner air and/or throwing up. I wonder if the gas will disfigure them like it did the mer-people. Most likely not, since they only had it in their bodies for about five minutes. The mer-people have had to breathe it for decades. I decide to act like one of the scared ones and scream and run home in this ridiculous dress, after taking off my heels. I just hope that the mer-people get what they want after this and everything can be peaceful.
 But is it ever that easy?
 :::
 It’s our meeting day, and he’s late. I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t show up, and honestly, I’m surprised he even started doing this in the first place. He’s the leader of the rebellion, and he makes time for me? It’s silly.
 “I’m sorry I’m late.” Silco’s here, and he does look exasperated.
 “It’s fine, I didn’t think you…” I stop when I see two more heads pop out of the water. One of them is a muscular woman, probably tall, with short black hair, grey eyes and brown skin. She has a mechanical left arm and her tail his like that of an orca’s, at least from what I can see. She’s staring at me with clear ill-intent. The other is a teenager with bright blue braids and pink eyes, her tail as blue as her hair and that of a betta fish. She’s smiling big, excited to see me. Silco says my name to get my attention.
 “This is my daughter, Jinx.” He gestures to the girl. “And this is my lieutenant, Sevika.”
 “H-Hi.” I’m shocked to see them so soon, happy, but shocked. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Silco’s told me about you guys.” I hold my hand out for them to shake and Jinx takes it first.
 “Nice to meet you too!” She shakes it very hard. “My Dad talks about you all the time.”
 “He does?” I ask, blushing a little. I think he’s doing the same thing.
 “Yeah, too much.” I hear Sevika say under her breath. I keep my hand out for her to shake for a few seconds longer but she doesn’t take it. Right, she’s a stubborn, suspicious person.
 “Yeah, but it’s fine. I’m glad he has a new friend.” Jinx grins. “And such a pretty friend! I saw you at the gala. Wowzers!”
 “Heh, thank you.” She’s a teen, but she acts like a little child. A really blunt little child.
 “Beauty and brains, huh?” Sevika swims closer, pushing herself out of the water and practically standing on her tail in front of me. Yep, she’s tall, alright, and could easily kill me, which she was probably planning on doing.
 “Sevika…” Silco warns, glaring up at her.
 “Tell me, do you check to make sure you aren’t followed when you come here?” She asks me.
 “Yes, I try my best. I’m… not a professional like you.” I try to answer honestly and appease to her strength.
 “And you make sure you’re hiding these ‘notes’ you’re taking of Silco?”
 “Yes, between my mattress…”
 “That’s too obvious.” She interrupts. “And I can only imagine what kind of obvious questions you ask your human friends.”
 “I…”
 “How do you think you can help us, by drawing us and sticking a thermometer in our ears? You’re right, you’re not a professional, so maybe you should stop acting like one for your own…”
 “Enough!” Silco yells, acting like the villain he describes himself to be. “You got it out of your system? Then get out.”
 “…” Sevika tightens her lips, and then clicks her tongue as she hops back into the water, swimming away angrily. He clearly has her on a leash. Seeing him like that was… kind of hot.
 “Sheesh, she didn’t have to be so mean.” Jinx says, pouting.
 “I’m sorry about her.” Silco softens up again. “She insisted on ‘testing’ you.”
 “It’s okay, she is right about some things.” I say truthfully. I should check harder to make sure I’m not followed, and I should probably hide my notebook better.
 “Don’t let her bother you.” He says, now smiling at his daughter. “As for her, she just wanted to meet you.”
 “Can I see the drawing you made of Dad?” Jinx asks.
 “Sure.” I open my notebook to the drawing. I added some details to it since Silco saw it for himself. Jinx is impressed, however, I see this flash of anger in her eyes, but it goes as quickly as it comes. Maybe it was that ‘mind damage’ Silco was talking about.
 “It’s amazing! Could you draw me?” She claps her hands together. I look to her father for approval and he snickers and nods.
 “I’d be honored. Come up here.” I pat the cave floor and turn to a fresh page while she squeals in delight, pushing herself out of the water. Her tail is so pretty, so flowing and frilly and shocking blue with pink streaks. She too has bioluminescence, but hers are on the dorsal side of her fin and her back, two dotted lines going up. Her hair is as long as she is, and she wore a simple black halter top with an ‘X’ in the middle. Such a beautiful mermaid, just like the ones from the fairytales.
 “What kind of pose should I do? This one, or this one?” She strikes a few poses, all of which looked very uncomfortable. I giggle at her.
 “How about you just lean on your arm?” I smile.
 “Boring, but okay.” She slumps into the pose I gave her. I start sketching.
 “So…” I turn to Silco again. “How’s Jayce doing?” It’s been a few days since his capture.
 “Oh, he’s doing just fine.” He answers, smirking. “We are treating him with as much respect as we can.”
 “Right.” I say. “Well, everyone’s up in arms. It’s like Jayce is a vital organ, and they can’t function without him.”
 “Which is exactly why we took him.” He smirks. “Have you been interrogated again?”
 “Thankfully not. The enforcers haven’t been by my place of work. I even said to Heimerdinger, ‘I don’t think I’ll be going to another gala anytime soon’.”
 “I do hope that statement will be enough to throw them off your scent.”
 “But they haven’t mentioned anything about peace, just war. They’re going to tear down the whole lower city to find him.”
 “Then it’s a good thing no one lives down here, nor is he even above the surface.”
 “Wait, he’s…?”
 “Yes. He’s in Zaun.” He grins. “But before you get jealous, the way we brought him to us was experimental and dangerous. He was our test subject, and he luckily survived.”
 “And he’s in some sort of oxygen prison?”
 “Exactly. He’s like our pet.”
 “…” I am a little jealous, for some reason, but I’m mostly fascinated. “Your people are so advanced.”
 “It was forced upon us, my dear.” He says. “A blessing and a curse.”
 “Has he said anything?” I ask.
 “He was scared at first, but he’s calmed down, promising us a clean river if we’d let him go.”
 “He told me a river-cleaning plan would have to be voted on unanimously.” I tell him. “I’ve been to a few of the Council’s ‘trials’. They can hardly come to a unanimous decision on anything.”
 “Have you ever met any of them in person, other than Mr. Talis?”
 “No, and I wouldn’t want to.” I shrug. “Except maybe Mel Merdarda. She seems like a reasonable person. But… I don’t know if you know this rumor, but apparently she and Jayce are sleeping with each other.”
 “Ooo, he has a girlfriend?” Jinx asks.
 “I have heard. I have ears most everywhere.” He says. “Maybe she can talk those twits into a unanimous vote.”
 “Her voice would be drowned out by the others, especially if Jayce isn’t there.” I say, finishing up my drawing of Jinx. I flip the book around and show it to her. “What do you think?”
 “Oh wow, that’s so cool.” She smiles a big, toothy smile. “I wish I could keep it.”
 “Sorry, this ink isn’t waterproof.” I say and she pouts. “Hey, could you autograph it for me?”
 “Can I?” She likes that idea. I hand her the pen and she signs it at the bottom right. Her signature is like graffiti. “Thanks. That was fun, and yet boring at the same time.” I burst out laughing. “I’m gonna go now, if you guys are just going to talk more politics. See ya!” She waves before jumping into the water, hugging her father first before swimming away.
 “What a sweet kid.” I say to him.
 “She’s a firecracker.” He smirks. “May I see the drawing?”
 “Yeah.” I show him, and he nods in approval.
 “Perfect.” He eyes me. “You seem a little despondent today.”
 “Hm? Oh… maybe.” I close the book. “I thought what you did at the gala was ingenious, but instead of it bringing a peaceful solution, it’s doing the opposite. I’m… I’m scared for you.”
 “…” He rolls his tongue inside his cheek. “Do you have any children?”
 “Me? No.” I shake my head.
 “Any family?”
 “No. My parents died, and I’m an only child.”
 “So you’ve experienced loss.”
 “I have.” I remember it, all of it. “My dad got sick, and we tried everything to save him, but it was all for nothing, and… and it just made him suffer more, longer. When the doctor said they tried reviving him nine times I thought…” I start crying. “I thought that was so cruel, that they made him die that many fucking times. Sometimes I just wish…” I hesitate to talk.
 “Go on, it’s alright.” He puts a wet, webbed hand on my thigh.
 “That he could have just died once, sooner, and peacefully.” I instinctively put my hand on his. “My mom didn’t last very long after that. She didn’t kill herself exactly, just… stopped functioning naturally, like her husband was a part of her that died, you know?”
 “I do. I understand all of it.” His hand turns and takes mine. “When my children died, I was upset, of course, that their lives were cut so short. However, sometimes I think to myself that I’m happy that they died before the toxins could destroy them. Before they could see their sister get captured. Before they could see me kill their father. Before they could see me like this, and their littler sister lose her sanity. And yes, a piece of me died when I stuck a knife into my husband’s gut…” He takes a quick breath. “And yes, I am scared. I’m scared for my people, for my daughter, for you.” My eyes widen at that. “But I need to do this. I need to make a better world for my daughter to grow up in. Hell, I’m trying to make a better world for humans, as well. And I am willing to do almost anything to make that happen. So I thank you for being scared for me… but you can’t stop me.”
 “I… I know.” I give him a small smile. “Just be careful.”
 “You too.” He lets go of my hand and brings himself onto the floor. “Now then, is there any studying you’d like to do tonight?”
 “Oh… well, I know you’ve had a busy night, and…”
 “Please, it’s okay. Believe it or not, this is relaxing for me.” He says, tail flapping in the water.
 “… Alright, then.” I say, opening my notebook.
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talesofsonicasura · 2 years
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Hank with a Devil Hunter s/o?!
I said I'd be feeding some Hank simps and here it is. As for the type of demons being hunted by s/o, I'll mostly being using Devil May Cry demons. Like the one with 96! Sun Wukong, this is a slow burn. (It's Hank J. Wimbleton.) Can be read as gender neutral or preferred gender.
How you met Hank could be summed up as spontaneous. You were on a mission to clean out a Sin Scissors infestation running amok in a graveyard.
So imagine your surprise seeing some strange creature barely 5 ft with a red arm but a disembodied hand bleeding out by a tombstone. (Hank is in his Mag form for this)
Knowing this wasn't a demon and taking pity, you took the oddity back home to nurse them back to health.
It took the next day for Hank to wake up. You came in to change his bandages only to see them up and on guard the moment you both locked eyes.
He did calm down noticing the bandages and learning you had saved his life. The man definitely went through hell from all of the stitches and scars across his body. You even think he got into a slugfest with some bloody Riots.
You did learn his name was Hank and his bizarre situation. Although his explanation had been written down since he clearly wasn't used to talking, much less with a metal jaw.
Hank was a crossling or grunt, from an alternate version of Nevada where things went complete mad shit by a dictatorship messing with reality. It honestly sounded like an adult internet cartoon. Especially since he escaped a literal zombie clown purgatory. WTF
In exchange, you gave him information on your world. Hank seemed to take it well although he was a bit excited to hear about demon hunting. Guess he's been looking forward to a challenge?
Imagine both of your surprise when the crossling went up in a poof of red smoke. He emerged looking smaller, barely reaching your kneecaps and now two floating hands than one. The former one was still red. Okay...
You can only guess that larger form was still there, like a Devil Trigger. That's going to be an interesting phone call for later.
Having Hank as a roommate is odd to say the least. You had to keep him on bed rest for a few weeks and the asshole kept trying to pull his stitches out.
Every time he undid a stitch, you sprayed them with a spray bottle before redoing his stitches. Hank been given a Rubix cube to see if it deter any more stitch pulling.
Once he was off bed rest, the crossling could be summed up as an inquisitive creachurr. Sifting through your stuff, checking out your weapons and putting random shit in your blender with odd obsession.
He isn't keen on bathing either. It was completely awkward chasing an essentially grown man and forced them to clean up.
You kept your Devil Arms cabinet tightly locked. No way in hell were ya going to risk Hank potentially pissing off demon soul made weaponry.
Then there were taking jobs. Once the grunt was fully recovered, he wanted to join you in demon hunting. And if you didn't take him, Hank would sneak out just to join the current job.
Luckily, a compromise could be made. Hank can come with you IF he went under the guise of a demonic familiar.
A perfect cover as some humans can form contracts with demons and no one could tell Hank wasn't a demon that easily. He had to listen to you, to some degree, to not raise any suspicion.
Thankfully, Hank agreed without much objection. Thus began the oddest partnership in your entire life.
A favorable one as the crossling was quite skilled, preference being knives, swords and near rapidfire guns.
For someone barely reaching your kneecaps, Hank blew out the brains of any demon from lowly Empusa to even Riots. Jobs were dealt with faster and had less property damage thanks to them.
Other than being a skilled hardass who hated bathing, Hank was honestly a nice companion to have. Mainly silent but caring in his own odd way. Often giving you random gifts from a shiny stone to demon parts...
It was only a matter of time before you received the attention of more seasoned Devil Hunters. Specifically the infamous hunting agency: Devil May Cry. This meeting was going to suck, especially since Hank just jammed a demon heart into your blender.
Hank is a feral ass gremlin man who doesn't like bathing and you can't tell me otherwise. I do have a few headcanons of my own considering him.
He's selectively mute but has issues talking. Mainly cause of not being used to speaking with his metal jaw. The same also going for eating. Prosthetics such as jaws are something that takes both practice and time to get used.
I'm also following the mutual headcanon that Hank might have an Improbability Drive. His jaw could be a part of it as every time he comes back from the dead, there seems to be an upgrade done to him via mysterious means.
As for Hank being able to switch between his normal self and MAG form, I think of utilizing that for other stuff than just headcanons. Remember that he's only partially magnified as the process had been interrupted, so what kind of side effects than just lowered IQ could be anything. You could even say he's a WereMAG.
And yeah, from what I could find, Krinkels did say that Hank's IQ was reduced to 85 when the Magnification was interrupted. It was fully restored later on thanks to a certain halo.
Is the Devil May Cry group getting involved with Hank and his Devil Hunter s/o? Oh hell yeah. Some headcanons will feature the group so here's the heads up now. Anything involving Hank Motherfucker Wimbleton is guaranteed chaos especially something like Devil May Cry.
Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4
Until next time folks, continue to thrive in the madness. For anyone curious, here's the page for lesser demons from the DMC series.
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bbhyeoliskooks · 3 years
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«❝ 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 ❞» - PT. TWO
Yeonjun was the one to break up with you, so why does he want you back now?
➸ check part one out here!
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«────« ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
Pairing: Yeonjun x Reader (female)
Genre: 335 cups of fluff and 3 cups of angst
Warnings: a bit suggestive maybe??? cursing, eating, cheesy cringe stuff hehe, ++ unedited so there may be a lot of mistakes !!
Song: I’ll Never Love This Way Again
(YUH OMG FINALLY I FINISHED THIS REQUEST IM SCREAMING OMG??? i’m so sorry that this took so long, i know a lot of people waited for it 😭😭 and for the anon who requested this bc there wasn’t a notif- keah accidentally deleted it 😭😭. ngl i would die for yeonjun in this. ANYWAY, i hope you enjoyyy~~ i rlly liked doing something like this and yes i have to mention the happiness it gave me at 1am when i finally finished it 😌💕)
«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
As easy as it was to say compared to real life, Choi Yeonjun was a wreck. A horrible, horrible and you must’ve forget to say- horrible wreck! That is including the duration of time before and after the second time you left.
How he roused one morning to you no where in sight after a vicious night of going out was something he deeply regretted. He would do anything to go back to that day, of course. He wasn’t sure about how you were doing, but jeez did he want to see those bright glints in your eyes whenever you saw him again. To see you smiling like nothing was wrong or giggling when he finally made ticklish contact on those sensitive places or even how you’d frown before him due to his carelessness. His mind drew him back to the ungodly hour of 4am when you scolded him for the scar on his arm he didn’t seem to realize until later and the way you made sure nothing else on his body was hurt. Yeah anyone could tell that didn’t go very well considering he was a boy and you were a girl, but that wasn’t the point!
In simple terms, he missed you more than anyone he’s ever laid eyes upon and the plain truth was that. You weren’t easy to be shaken off his mind after that ordeal of getting you to himself for one, final night. It hurt him most to see the disgusted expression on your face as if you were staring straight at a pile of elephant poop on the ground, not wanting to do anything with it because it was useless and foul. He couldn’t possibly make it your fault too, which meant he shouldn’t have been surprised. Breaking your poor heart by insulting you and taking you for granted, everything was wrong with him for thinking this way!
Whether he liked it or not, his heart said differently about this matter.
Perhaps it was the way you looked that night- he could say- however, it was more than that. With your adoring, sparkling eyes that weren’t easy to miss and your stunning, contagious smile that caused ripples of happiness to fly across the room, he couldn’t blame anyone for falling in love with you. After all, he was a victim of it himself so there was no way he could’ve not in the end. All of those things were true especially, but taking in everything to account as well hanging out with you, your unique individual beauty meant nothing.
He just loved you for you. Loved? No, not loved. Loves. He still loves you for you, and he was a fool to realize it this late. He just lost the best thing in his life due to his stupidity; he knew fully well that you couldn’t ever bring yourself to talk to him face-to-face again if the two of you met again. Would you two even come to meet in the first place? That was the true question here. He and you both knew that due to your resistance and remorse for what happened last weekend that you would never permit yourself to see him. Like he said, he couldn’t blame you for that either.
And yet, why is he trying to convince himself that he’s the only one for you? Your every smile was originally because of him, but now... but now, you’d never let him hear that for one, last time. He couldn’t redo his mistakes of the past of hurting you even if he promised never to do that again. And judging this situation, destiny wouldn’t allow that to happen anyway. With all of your encounters, it seemed as if they all turned out the same way. Everything was ripped into shreds.
«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
“Wait, so you sLEPT WITH HIM?!” Soobin’s voice reached to a dangerous while the two of you paced around the hallways together, trying to quietly talk about last weekend until he so rudely screamed about your untrue administrations. You clasped your hand over his mouth in instinct, punching his shoulder as a warning to keep quiet or else. His body heaved with hearty chuckles while you screamed, telling him to keep his voice down so that you could truly tell him the whole story.
“Soobin! That’s not true; I wouldn’t do anything like that, ever!”
“Well, he’s your ex- and he’s hot, so why wouldn’t you sleep with him?!”
Now some of the students subtly shuffled around to eavesdrop on your conversation, and you groaned at the newfound attention. Just what were you thinking about telling him when sometimes he could contradict himself to be this loud?! It was steaming tea, yes, but no one else had to hear about it! You should’ve told him this stuff at lunch when the two of you were alone.
Swiftly pulling Soobin to the vacant hallway where thankfully no one else was walking, you made sure to keep your voice to a faint hush. You weren’t sure if he could hear you, but you couldn’t risk involving anyone else in this personal matter. Students passed by all around you in the other hallway, holding conversations and walking in groups which was a good sign you could actually speak normally since no one was paying attention anymore.
“So did you or did you not?” He mused, ruffling the top of your head. You pushed his hand away, rolling your eyes at his playfulness when the gravity of the situation needed to be comprehended instead.
“Soobin, I told you we never slept together in that sense last weekend. We were both drunk and shared the same bed! It doesn’t mean anything and we aren’t going to get back together,” you held your breath through those words as you watched the amused smile on his face turn into a pitiful, pouting lip. His adorable puppy dog eyes that were begging you not to get mad at him didn’t seem to work now, and you found yourself telling him off even if you didn’t mean to in the first place.
“You’re so stupid for thinking that, you know?! Yeonjun’s a jerk, I have no clue why I ever got with that bastard in the first place! God, if you never let us meet together then you know I would’ve been happy now. Just why did everything have to turn out this way?!”
The walls of your heart you tried so hard to buttress through your words and actions crumbled with every second you spoke, disintegrating into pure dust the moment your voice leveled to reach your anger. Your chest was trembling as you choked out the last few words, unable to say anything anymore as a lump appeared in your throat. You hated being weak in front of him the most because he’s seen you so many times like this before and he’d very clearly think of you as a crybaby.
He seemed to understand this, shooting you a gently smile as some small encouragement. It was that smile that urged you to snap out of your evil trance immediately. For saying all those rude things to him, it was contradictory since at that very moment you wanted to take everything back. The guilt ate you up in an instant once you took in his dumbfound yet soft expression, causing you to envelope him in a warm embrace as contrition. He never deserved this treatment when it wasn’t even his fault anyway.
“I... I’m sorry, Soobin. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. It’s just so hard on me now since I know I shouldn’t have done that with him last weekend. We didn’t do a lot, and yet I still want to say that I love him...? Even now I won’t allow myself to cry and be weak but,” your voice faltered as your body slightly shivered, “I can’t do it. I just can’t be strong anymore. It’s so hard.”
Soobin sighed, generously allowing you to lean on him like last time. You were so strong- you had always been so strong in front of him, and it hurt him to see that you were slowly breaking no matter how much you tried to stop it. He could see right through the so called smile you shot him this morning as soon as you saw him. He knew right then and there that something happened to you during the weekend and when he heard it was all about Yeonjun... he had to contain himself not to beat up his best friend or else the friendship he treasured dearly would crash, fall, and wouldn’t withstand.
However, the truth remained. Little by little, you were shattering due to Yeonjun’s actions and he could only watch helplessly as you flew freely to the ground. It was an understatement to say that he was starting to hate his best friend for doing this to you, but in the end he believed you. If you did it before, then you could do it again right? And you knew that Soobin was always right there for you no matter what.
Last month you gave it your all in order to move on. He truly admired that you kept running and running towards the future even if you felt that there was no end, a quality he secretly cherished of you. As a person, you were strong in your own way and Soobin was proud of you. He just didn’t know how to say it now without making the bright atmosphere droop. It was always like this whenever a problem with your relationship arose. He brought you closer to his arms.
“You’re not weak at all for crying, Y/N. I think you’ve been holding it for too long now. You’re always welcome to come to me, alright? I’ll save you from that stupid Yeonjun and make you happier than he ever has! You deserve someone much better. You and I both know this.”
He wiped your every tear which streamed against your cheek with his thumb gently, and somehow you finally smiled. Ardent, genuine, and sincere, your smile was enough to cause another one of his own towards you, a great deal of blinding happiness all around you. You were sure Soobin was waiting for this after a while, although it came out at a surprising time. You didn’t expect it either.
This was another feeling you couldn’t ever get enough of, for it reminded you of the time when Yeonjun asked you to be his... but comparing it to this wasn’t right at all.
No words were spoken between the two of you, but it really did mean a great deal of comfort to you. How could he offer up this ample amount of support towards you? You made a promise to yourself to make it up to him one day.
A few minutes later, you reluctantly pulled away from his sweet hug to check the time on your phone. You weren’t sure how long you’d been holding each other like this (and you really did enjoy it), but if you kept dawdling then you would miss every single afternoon class. Your eyes scanned through the upper numbers.
Crap. You already missed the first few minutes!
You scrambled to get yourself off him, pulling your bag over your shoulder in a haste. “Wait, I’ll tell you the details later!” You waved your hand for a flimsy goodbye, rushing to get every paper in your bags in check. It was a pathetic bye, that was for sure. You rushed out before Soobin could even mutter a bye, hoping to get there in good time so that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of everyone. Oh, well. You’ll see him later.
Your footsteps faded away little by little and yet another set rippled through his ears through little clacks on the spotless floor. He wondered if you were coming back to ask him something but before he could turn around, sweet words that were due to a familiar tone made his heart stop in place.
“Please, take care of her for me.”
...
Upon hearing that voice Soobin halted in his tracks, looking back at a pair of warm, brown eyes that met his own. By the looks of it, he heard everything you said. Not to mention that it was the second time the boy eavesdropped at that.
“Soobin, please? You can date her even if it hurts but just please... if I can’t look after her, then who else’ll take her to her favorite restaurant?”
The pleas did not matter to him all the more, if he was being honest. This game was something he didn’t want to be involved in but looks like fate had its plans. It was obvious now. He hated this and although he said you deserved better, it was clear that the two of you were destined to be together.
«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
The door clamorously creaked as soon as you entered, making you cringe at the sudden but minimal heads that turned towards you. You shyly offered up a smile, reorganizing the books in your hands to pass off some of the attention somewhere else. Some of the people there were doing their own things and focused on talking to each other to an extent. You sighed gratefully. Thankfully you could sit alone at a spot where no one would notice you at the top of the row.
After you wondered where the rest of the students were and the professor whom you searched for in every direction, you gave up with a relieving drop of your shoulders and decided to sit down. Glancing at the time, you muttered how stupid you were under your breath for reading the clock wrong. You were fortunately five minutes earlier, but looks like you have to wait now until the lesson starts.
Getting situated in your spot was an easy thing and you toyed with your phone when you heard a shuffling of clothes sitting next to you on the right. It wasn’t such a good time to be socializing right now since you felt like crap but if you were going to make new friends, you might as well do so now. After all, college was supposed to be a good experience minus all the endless assignments and projects to prepare for your future.
You managed to steal a look at the person who sat right next to you but became paralyzed in your spot when you realized who it was, whipping your head where you wouldn’t be able to get distracted by him. That dazzling, blue hair was unmistakable. And the perfect, rosy lips were too! How could you not be tainted when he chose to sit next to you?! Seeing as the latter was impossible when you heard his deep voice murmur the words ‘good morning,’ a bead of sweat collected at your forehead. He was never this bold before after you broke up, and you pondered if he wanted to be good friends again after what happened. The audacity was unbelievable.
You couldn’t understand why he’d choose to be beside you when there were many more other open spots in the room. He must’ve been mocking you, making fun of you after how weak you looked a few days before.
The question was though, why the hell was he sitting right there?! Right next to you?! You could feel the words becoming stuck in your throat as you choked out a good morning back, too anxious to say anything or else it’d initiate a conversation between the two of you. That was the least thing you wanted to do as of now, wasting all your energy on the time spent convincing yourself he’d make up some small talk. That time however never came, and you were left politely smiling at the one and only Choi Yeonjun when you randomly found him staring at you.
The professor finally arrived, lifting off a heavy burden on your chest when you could’ve been dreading the lesson instead. You should’ve left before as to not create any conflict, but anymore absences and your future would’ve been as good as dead. Although you could look at the bright side now! Yeonjun wouldn’t be able to talk to you or else he’d miss some important things which would in turn affect his grades. You threw a grateful smile towards the center of the cavernous room, becoming a little bit relaxed even if some part of you was still freaking out he was that close to you.
The class was a blur, pointless information echoing throughout the room you didn’t care to learn since you were dozing off. Your mind was too busy looking back at the events that went down last weekend, becoming more tired with every second that passed. It was hard to get your brain off that addicting stuff called overthinking every single time you caught Yeonjun staring at you with tender, soft eyes. Simultaneously, you were hoping no one would call you out for daydreaming of what could’ve been, so you hid behind a tall person’s blonde head, hoping not to be caught.
Sadly, you were brought back to the room when a chorus of sighs collected together to make a violin whimper of disappointment.
“You will be working with the person beside you on the right,” the professor declared, clearing their throat while most of the class groaned altogether. Wait so that means...
In an instant, everything seemed way too overheated in the room now. Were you the only one feeling hot or what?! You knew fully what was supposed to come next since you were the only two sitting on the top, the rest of the bottom being filled out by tons of people who were tuning in to the lesson.
Sometimes life doesn’t work the way we want it to. That itself was obvious. Otherwise you’d be somewhere else being happy instead of working with this jerk!
You couldn’t help the frustration of curses you thought in your head, glaring at the boy who was giggling cutely to himself.
“Oh, looks like you’re paired up with me! I can’t wait to work with you, Y/N~” The tone of his voice made your heart skip a beat, the all too familiar teasing getting to your head. As you expected, whatever he said would have an effect on you, instantly making you heat up at how true that statement was.
Smiling, you gulped, feeling too parched all of a sudden. God only knows how much you wanted to get out of there right away. You were dying not to embarrass yourself, collecting your books together as you slathered a polite tone to your voice. Somehow you got the words out despite making clear eye contact with him way too long for your own good. It felt so wrong to say he was a masterpiece but it felt so right to keep looking at him like this.
“Where should we work?” Yeonjun asked once more.
He leaned closer to you, leaning on his hand as he maintained an direct, intent gaze. Your lips formed into a straight line, hopelessly wishing he wouldn’t see how much of a mess you were in front of him. Then he licked his lips. That was the end of you! He and you both knew that it was meant to be flirtatious. Your ears burned at the sight. Well that was enough to be looking at his eyes now! You foolishly turned away.
“Hmm, how about we meet at the bakery everyday at five? Are you okay with that?” Yeonjun suggested, raising an eyebrow to comprehend your unsure expression. You nodded your head acceptingly, albeit a bit defeated. He shouldn’t have been expecting anything. You were fine with whatever place you could meet up by, but didn’t he know that you weren’t fine working with him?!
After the quiet and easily awkward atmosphere, you turned on your heel getting up from the exhausting spot. It was much too uncomfortable for you to plan out a schedule with him, and second you weren’t able to catch the directions with him chatting it up a bunch.
Of course you wanted to be mature about the situation, but it was impossible for you. If it was another person, then you would’ve been fine. You could ask around but that itself was scary too. Your heart was in a tugging predicament with you in between, and you weren’t sure what to choose. Seems like Yeonjun was your only choice now. It would’ve helped you move on but with him right there, it would be harder to really think about yourself for once. You shot him one more look, hoping it would be the last.
“Yeonjun, don’t think you’re fooling me with this flirting. You know I can’t work with you after what you said. I’m sorry, but find someone else who’ll be open to being your partner.” You opted to get up from your seat, trying to dash away as quickly and quietly as possible until he said something that made you paralyzed as you got up.
“Y/N, please wait!”
Suddenly the world stopped and in it, you could only see the two of you with Yeonjun clinging gently to you.
He grabbed your arm before you could move to another seat, holding on tightly just to make you stay. You winced at how warm it was compared to your shaking arm, avoiding his vulnerable eyes due to embarrassment. You didn’t know how you were supposed to do this project anyway when you couldn’t even look at him in the first place.
“I know, and I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done whatever we did while we were drunk and bothered you like that. Just... can you work with me this once? I want you to get a good grade with me.”
Gradually, his words became inaudible at the end, as if too ashamed to say it out loud. It was an understatement to say what he said was surprising. Therefore you couldn’t help but gasp at how vulnerable he got when you tried to move away from him when you thought he would’ve let you go after what happened. It was clearly too much for you to see his adorable puppy dog eyes, glistening and sparkling with sincerity when you safely decided to look back at him, feeling weak in the knees with uncertainty of what to say.
And although you wanted to say no so badly, you spoke without thinking and murmured something only he could hear.
“Okay then... Let’s do well.”
«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
Before you knew it, five pm rolled by and you were face-to-face at the bakery where Yeonjun was waiting for you. At this point, you were reluctant to go through with this since you could easily say you hadn’t found anyone to do the project with. But knowing that the teacher was stubborn and hardheaded when they made plans like these, it would be impossible to convince him to let you work alone. Plus, you actually got ready instead of throwing your favorite hoodie this time! You couldn’t let all your extra effort and special preparing to go to waste just because it was Yeonjun.
And gosh, you just had to remind yourself it was Yeonjun again.
The advances were simple. You had brought all your heavy books relating to the subject, hoping they’d be able to help but now all they seemed to do was weigh you down from getting the door. The wind was heartless, sending icy gusts through your clothes as you heaved out a sigh. It would’ve been good if you just left now instead. But this would only make matters worse. You swiped your phone again, purposely ignoring the contact name of ‘Stupid Mean Jerk Jjuniebug.’ He hadn’t texted you yet saying he was there so you hesitated a tiny bit before reaching for the golden door handle and eventually going inside.
The warm smell of cookies, cakes, and a variety of baked breads welcomed your nose, making the corners of your lips turn up with satisfaction. Out of all the distractions in the world, the Boulangerie was such a perfect place to go to do anything, really. If it wasn’t for your stupid project, you’d probably relax and enjoy a cup of your favorite drink paired with one of the delights they had here! It sounded like flawless idea. Happily, you made a mental memorandum in your head to plan out a day with Soobin where the two of you could hang out and tell stories to each other. He would definitely enjoy this place because of all of the bread you could order.
Surprisingly, Yeonjun was there already and you assumed he was writing something important down due to the determined expression on his face. He furrowed an eyebrow, slightly biting is lip while you inched towards him. You couldn’t help the smile that arose on your cheeks because of how endearing he looked as he worked hard, holding tightly to the books in your arms when you finally came close to him.
He looked up from his little notes of hearts and bunnies he was doodling as soon as a pair of shoes made unpretentious clitter-clacks, eyes lighting up with admiration when he realized that it was you standing there.
“I ordered your favorite dessert while waiting for you. Do you still like it?”
The words got stuck in your throat. He got you something? He must’ve been thinking of your arrival too attentively otherwise there’s no way that was true, but gosh did Yeonjun prove you wrong in a second.
Glancing at the sweets before you paired with a dainty teacup of your favorite drink, a gasp left your lips that embodied awe since he still remembered what you liked to order whenever you came to the Boulangerie with him. The snow white lace of the table fabric created flashbacks in your mind and you tensed up in realization. You hadn’t come here in two months- the last time you were able to picture your last date with him. Although, that wasn’t the point at all.
You were not to be expecting anything after the two of you separated even if the two of you were exes. It was just in Yeonjun’s moral codes in life to be kind to anybody and especially you whenever he please just because it was normal to him. You adored how pure he was, but at the same time you couldn’t shake how he acted towards you almost two months ago. That hostile expression on his face- one you’d never seen before- couldn’t ever be erased from your memory no matter how much effort you put in it.
But the past was the past. No bad things could happen like that now, could it? It was all because the two of you broke up. You were exes.
And yet, you could smile freely like nothing of the sort happened towards the two of you. After all, it was the right thing to do wasn’t it? Yeonjun would’ve wanted you to do that too, you knew it deep inside despite desiring to deny it. To move on and not have any feelings of pent up frustration and anger towards each other. Joy swelled in your heart at how much maturity you were gaining because of heartbreak. Maybe the two of you could be friends. Maybe.
“Thank you so much for doing this even if you didn’t have to, Yeonjun. I’m surprised you even came since your friends are much more interesting than me. I’m glad that you did though.”
You decided to take a bite in the delicacy, immediately not regretting the dulcet decision as you relished in the simple sweetness that came with it. Honestly, you missed this wonderful, mouth watering taste so much! Just like what you remembered, you shut your eyes in pure content, not being able to take in the sight of the boy in front of you who chuckled to himself.
Yeonjun heaved a breath of amusement from his chest, cheek laying down on his hand again as his eyes showed nothing but the sincere feeling of endearment towards you. He shifted comfortably on his side, grabbing one of the crimson, bright strawberries from his plate as he bit onto the juicy tip of it.
“You know, you’re always cute when you smile like that,” he whispered, not caring whether or not you heard it- which you obviously did.
You puffed your cheeks out at this.
“Shut up...! We’re here for a project, remember? Not to... flirt, silly.”
The mischievous yet saccharine grin on his face made you flustered and you glanced away from him, pretending to look at the tray of enclosed desserts that you saw when you first entered the bakery. You couldn’t allow yourself to become distracted like this! Not to mention that looking at him straight through doesn’t seem to help either!
“Oh, but when I look at you I can’t seem to focus on anything else. I’m being serious here; I just really can’t seem to take my eyes off you.”
The slamming yet gentle sound of you slamming the spoon you were holding on the table gave everything away and his eyes turned into euphoric crescents that only signaled delight.
“Yeonjun, I said shut your trap. All these cheesy compliments and I’ll... we have to do our project, so please cooperate and let’s put our work together to actually do something good.” You pulled your books together in a pile, acting as if you were really doing something in order to distract him from teasing you. The raging beat of your heart begged to differ, so you hoped he wouldn’t hear it or else that would give him another reason to make you flustered.  
“As you wish, princess. We’ll work so well together that you’ll miss me once I drop you home!”
Princess...?
He’ll drop you home...?
You groaned in annoyance at the nickname and offer although you kind of enjoyed it, wanting to smack Yeonjun in the mouth for not listening to your request. He must’ve been deaf or something because the whole time he kept throwing coy phrases you’d never heard before or trying to whine about how much work it all was for the two of you.
You were only starting to understand how annoying he was whenever he got cranky and dozed off for thirty minutes, leaving you to search through all those books and gather information yourself which was luckily a lot of help. It was a nice silence for a while but once he got back to annoying you endlessly, you swore you could rip all your hair off from the frustration building up from inside of you.
How were you going to do a week of working with him when you couldn’t even look at him in the eye every time he made pouty, kissing lips? Or take him seriously whenever he called you a pet name for that matter? You wished future you the best luck, unfortunately not knowing what would arrive in the times to come.
...
“Hey, could you look at this for a second? I’m having trouble if I should or more exactly- how I should put this down when it makes no sense.”
You laughed at how clueless he was when it came to his favorite subject, shuffling right beside him to see what he was struggling with. It was too natural, too suspicious for the both of you not to know this. You contained the snickers of mock once you put it all together, silently calling him stupid in your head for not being able to jot down this simple effortless thing. You twisted your body towards the notes, enough for your shoulders to meet together.
Little did you know that Yeonjun only wanted you to come close to him, and it was more than suffice to say it worked out in his favor.
You were explaining everything to him but the only thing he could focus on was the little things about you. The bitty, endearing gestures of your hands while you connected two of the subjects, the way your chest heaved up and down when you took a tiny breath of air, and even how your lips opened and closed was enough for Yeonjun’s fluffy cheeks to heat up and bloom into a rosy red. The words droned off as it echoed between the two of you, easily becoming pointless since he wasn’t paying attention anyway.
A couple of seconds passed between the two of you when the bakery suddenly became silent, and he gripped the pencil he dropped earlier on the table as you shot him a shy smile. Yeonjun’s knuckles became white with every second his stare lingered on you. You were way too cute for your own good, and you didn’t even know it- so why was he surprised? He, too, was hoping you wouldn’t be able to notice the aggressive thumping in his chest.
“Yeonjun? You got all of that, right?” Your symphony-like voice snapped him from out of his trance.
“Okay, then I’ll put that down,” he breathed tiredly.” It looks like he was getting exhausted too, huh? You were about to say a few words of encouragement until he cut you off with his own.
“We’re almost done researching; just hang in there, alright? You’ve been doing so well, Y/N.”
The gentle, supporting words was enough to send ripples through your heart and you nodded your head, all the while checking through what you noted and what you forgot. You wanted to keep thinking about what he said and how it motivated you to keep going. You didn’t want to upset you and most definitely not him. However, the fatigue coating your eyes was too much and you slowly closed the heavy lids, head slowly turning to the side before you fell on something all too familiar.
A sudden yet light weight on his shoulder made him look up from what he was writing down, stunning him in his spot when he saw you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He must’ve known that this much thinking wore you out after such a long while. A tender smile decorated his lips and he took in your every feature, hoping to draw out the face that made him feel alive.
“She’s so cute...” He grabbed his jacket from the side he’d taken off earlier, laying it gently upon you with his other hand as if it was something he’d done since the beginning of time. You nuzzled your cheek against his way too comfortable shoulder, becoming more snug with each minute that passed by. He couldn’t help the skip in his heartbeat when you muttered his favorite nickname in your sleep, this ‘Jjuniebug’ being much more different compared to the past because he knew you were dreaming of him.
When such a sight like this was to be treasured by anyone, he decided he didn’t want to work anymore. Like the gentleman he was, he gathered your books together, pushing your plate to the side before laying his head against yours. He intertwined your hands with his, grinning gently from ear to ear at the warmness he felt from inside.
He stole one more glance at you, fingers delicately dancing from your cheekbone all the way to your chin, tracing your jaw as gingerly as he could. This was what he was hoping for after such a long time of not receiving it. That itself was rightfully so, yet having you near meant the world and so much more to him.
Then he glanced out the window where rain was drizzling, creating a dreading gray atmosphere which was nothing but chaos. It could’ve been something that alerted him on such a dreary day, making him anxious at how he was going to get home in a mess. But to him, he wouldn’t trade this peaceful present. Always, he wanted to be close to you like this. It couldn’t have been too much to ask, honestly.
“Tell me,” he said to no one in particular, “how can you make a moment last forever?”
«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
Tuesday passed as quickly as Monday did and you swiftly got prepared for five pm later. You were bouncing with excitement, ready to see the boy who’d been waiting for you over at the library, a place you decided together when he texted you during lunch break. To be true to yourself, you couldn’t wait to work with him. All day you were waiting for the horrid, slow hours to pass of lectures and countless assignments online, lingering silently through the minutes that seemed to go by forever in hopes that everything would go faster. The relief you felt when you were dismissed for the day and the joy that swelled in your heart when you went home, preparing yourself as best you could.
You didn’t understand why you were buzzing with energy over meeting someone like this, for wasn’t it true the two of you were exes? Two months ago you broke up; that was quite obvious. It didn’t help that and that number one: he was a jerk after a while of dating you, and number two: he was probably playing with your heart if you decided to be smart. But then again you always rewarded that guilty pleasure by saying the past was the past and he bought you your favorite delicacy. He may have hurt you before and because of that, you promised yourself you wouldn’t ever date him ever again.
With that thought in mind you threw your favorite outfit on that you planned just the night before, looking in the mirror twice just to make sure you looked okay. Deep down you knew it was a lie to say you weren’t doing these special things for him, trying to convince yourself that in doing so- this dressing up would do your ego a favor. Yeonjun didn’t have to see this, not at all! It was all because you wanted to look decent. Just that.
So sneakily, you crept out of the house while slipping your shoes on since nobody would notice you were gone. You checked your phone at least twice before opening the door, clearly not ready for the surprising sight your eyes landed upon as soon as you left home.
In front of you was the boy who had taken your mind captive all day, smiling from ear to ear as his fingers combed gently through his blue hair.
You gasped at how he actually came to your house after teasing yesterday that he would, but you never knew he’d carry out his plan. He would keep poking your cheek while saying something under his breath like how he’d visit you one day to pick you up. He would never do that, right? Well no, you were extremely wrong and just a day after your project date went well.
Nonetheless, you couldn’t stop the touched grin on your face to know he was waiting for you.
“Hey, Y/N,” he shyly giggled and that itself made your heart skip a beat, “let’s walk to the library together today, alright? Wait, let me take your books, please!”
Even with your protests and several no’s, he still took your books and placed it snugly against his left arm, teasing about how light they were together. You glared at him for a second before taking a few steps when he suddenly grabbed your hand.
You turned around, eyes wide in a daze.
“What is it?”
An overwhelming heat rose up to your cheeks and ears, making you feel hot in the face as you realized he was still holding on.
“If it isn’t too much to ask, can I hold your hand today? I really miss the warm feeling you gave me last summer.”
He held his hand out expectantly, waiting for you to take it on your own accord. You easily obliged- albeit a bit hesitantly- putting your hand against his and allowing him to guide you to wherever- whenever he wanted. The way his eyes lit up as he lead you to the place was precious, making you feel soft with endearment at how gentle he treated you.
Now this? This was bad. So, so bad.
On the day you left Yeonjun’s house in tears, you weren’t expecting any of this to happen. You weren’t sure how you could trust him so easily after everything he’s done- maybe it was the way you felt his sincerity in every smile he sent you or how tenderly he had grabbed your hand just now, but the happiness bottling up inside you did not lie. You felt pure jubilation whenever you saw him.
«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
It was Wednesday.
Wednesday, the middle of the school days where you desperately wanted to claw your eyes out from how tedious everything was. Wednesday, a day where nothing significant happened but nothing too horrible happened either. Wednesday, a reminder that you only had two days left- counting today and Thursday- to work with Yeonjun. You hated the bitter taste of having to really say goodbye, but the future had to be on the brighter side then. After this, you swore you wouldn’t ever see him and his damn handsome face for another accidental time.
Just about reaching four in the afternoon, you decided to go with Soobin over to the Boulangerie where you’d been promising yourself to take him since Monday. It was luck on your side today that you actually went out for some fresh air, carrying out some of the awaiting plans you had on your checklist. Sometimes it was nice to have a breather in the middle of the week when everything else was distracting.
It started off as usual, and you realized you hadn’t seen him since that very day of hearing Yeonjun’s offer to be your partner. To be quite honest, you didn’t really think about telling him since it shouldn’t be that important, but the boy knew it was important just by from the hesitance in your expressions. His fingers placed the glass filled with chocolate milk on the table gently and curiously prodded.
“Y/N? You’ve been acting strange lately; is everything okay?”
You glanced up from the china plate, eyes widening with surprise. You weren’t sure what he was talking about. It couldn’t have been anything important, could it? Or were you being so obvious about your giant, giant problem?
“Yeah, everything is fine, Bin! Trust me, there isn’t anything going wrong but I guess you could say that... from your perspective.”
You made sure to look at the way he reacted and seeing how his head titled with wonder, you chose to give it a try.
“Well... I should’ve called you about this but I’m working with Yeonjun for a project. We have to turn it in by Friday, but we’ve been doing stuff on it since Monday. It doesn’t mean anything though, and we’re supposed to meet up at the park (Moonlight) today.” You intentionally left out the fact he asked you and those sweet moments since you were afraid of his reaction.
You knew he was one to be respectful and kind no matter the person, although because of all this tugging back and forth between his best friends- you couldn’t blame him for wanting to sock either one of you for being so stupid. And stupid were you and Yeonjun for not being able to get enough of each other, at least that’s how you viewed it. Soobin wouldn’t dare to hurt either one of you since the two of you were best friends; physically wouldn’t cut it. You hoped he would just remain patient like he’d always have- one thing you were grateful for, obviously, instead of freaking out at the recent moments you’ve experienced.
That being said, the look on Soobin’s face was absolutely priceless once you told him about your predicament.
“You two? On a project? TOGETHER?!”
Glumly you nodded your head, expecting him to say something but his mouth was filled with shock to the brim that he couldn’t even bring himself to say anything.
“Yup, that’s true. You didn’t know about it?” To say the least, you were surprised he didn’t know about it since Yeonjun was one to trust him about everything. Little things like this would count, yes, and you could very vividly remember how he blabbed to Soobin when you first started dating about how to keep a girl on her period happy.
In response, he shook his head, hand still glued covering his mouth. Your lips slightly turned upwards at his melodramatic feedback.
“No, he didn’t tell me anything at all about it! Why are you guys keeping secrets from me?”
Ouch, that stung. But at the same time, what were you expecting?
“That’s a surprise. I thought he couldn’t keep his mouth--”
The deafening, shuffling sound of the store bell rang throughout your ears, causing you to shudder at the intermittent sound. This was a popular Boulangerie so you didn’t need to be surprised whenever a new customer came in, but it stunned you at the worst times. You shrugged at Soobin’s suddenly ghost white reaction, thinking he was just kidding with you again and went back to the cup of a refreshing drink. Honestly, you couldn’t care less about it unless it was someone you knew.
You lifted the cup to pass through your lips until the familiar sight of messy radiant, blue hair caught the peripheral vision of your eye.
It had to be him. It couldn’t be anyone else.
“Y-Yeonjun...?”
As your heart dropped to your stomach, your voice broke out gently, making you the only person to hear it muffled with both distress and disbelief. There was no possible way you were witnessing what was happening in front of you. You didn’t want to believe it, squinting your eyes over and over again just to get a good look. It was still him no matter what you did, no matter what you changed.
Somehow, he didn’t notice you.
He sat down at a table, sending a sugary smile towards an alluring girl who sent him the same one back. Your back became rigid at the too close proximity of their faces. They chatted for a little bit about anything that could cross their minds, obviously flirting with the stares sent back and forth and back again until it turned into a full discussion- both of them laughing their hearts out. Happiness from the ideal ‘couple’ (as anyone could’ve mistaken them) spread around the Boulangerie contagiously, making everyone awe at the sight of them fully enjoying themselves. But you? You? Your heart shattered piece by piece while watching this play out.
Too many questions flooded in your mind at once as well as too many insecurities, paralyzing you in your spot as you couldn’t find the correct way to breathe again. It was getting too hard to find the air in, you realized. Soobin called your name out many times- to get you to listen, to get you out of your stupid trance, to get you to do anything else in the world but look because it’d hurt you just as much as it did for him!
To this, you were only sitting still, staring and staring like a dormant painting hanging in a museum just to find out that you wouldn’t ever be able to change anything, but only see the people in front of you. You didn’t want to look at the face of pain in front of you but... if you looked away then something else might happen.
You cradled yourself in your arms, trying to stop the icy cold breeze that whirled pass your rips and over to the tips of your toes. It didn’t make sense to you. Why even bother putting effort into winning him back? You wouldn’t be able to be as good enough. You shouldn’t have even tried in the first place.
You gulped down those insecurities again, trying to calm your shaking hands.
It wasn’t possible to be that perfect... not at all. She was such a stunning girl, the epitome of everything you weren’t and what you didn’t have. She had such sparkling eyes, such a gorgeous smile, and not to mention an impeccable complexion that had every single girl in the world jealous. Everything about her was simply perfect and that drowned your own specialties into the deepest ocean called hatred.
Once again you glanced at Yeonjun who seemed to be having fun with the deep chuckles and smiles he was freely giving up. Oh, how bad you wanted it to be you but this reminder was one that gave you a wake up call. You never really had a chance in the first place.
He then turned his head a little to the side, ultimately being able to see you sitting next to Soobin just like you had planned. His honeyed brown eyes changed from smug into something unreadable you couldn’t put your finger on before changing in a split second to look back at the girl.
The decision dawned on you, and you clenched your fists until you felt flashing, white pain run through your fingers.
He didn’t even care.
You were stupid enough to believe he actually liked you back again. You were stupid enough to think that with all these sweet interactions and words, he was warming up to you for another countless time. You were stupid to think he was being truthful that drunken night, saying he needed you clearly as much as you needed him. Finally, you were stupid enough to think he loved you. Now the proof was smack dab in your face, blinding you from your goal of hating him, and you were such a fool to be thinking he would really be yours after such a long while.
The glossy tears gathered in your eyes, angry, frustrated but pointless words with no explanation becoming more stuck in your throat when you glanced once more at the sight across from you. Time passed by through the regal clock, ringing in an ear and out the other. One way or another, you needed to get out of there and you needed it to be now.
You hastily slung your bag filled with papers over your shoulders, making sure you hid the flowing tears from everyone’s sight. Just one turn and he’d probably see you so pitiful at the wrong time. You certainly didn’t want to look pathetic, especially not in front of Yeonjun, whom you still loved with all your heart.
In a dash, you aggressively swiped the entrance of the door handle and into the day where you just wanted to disappear. Bell ringing haphazardly behind you, you weren’t able to perceive you were out of the bakery until another customer ignored your everblooming sadness, struggling behind you to get the door. Tears soon fell on the ground after holding them in for too long, signaling your vulnerability as you crouched down behind the bakery to let everything keeping your heart captive out. This time, for real, you really weren’t going to see him again even if it meant your grades being obliterated.
You hated him. You hated him so much for what he did back there.
And yet here you were, running away from your problems again.
«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
“Y/N?”
It was a mistake. It was all a mistake. You shouldn’t have pressed accept without looking at the contact name. You were just so stupid that it was funny. Just another one of the reasons why he wouldn’t ever want to date you again. How could you blame him for breaking up with you?
“Y/N, you there?”
He was seeing another girl, you should’ve known. Why didn’t you know? Why did you have to be such a fool to be used in the first place? And why the hell were you sad about it when you could be using this opportunity to be getting over him?!
“Y/N, you’re not responding and I’m getting worried. Is there something I can do? Please...?”
You were just exes. Exes, for crying out loud! Exes. That’s all.
“Y/N, if you’re there just-”
“yeah, I’m right here,” you murmured quietly, caring any less that he might have not heard you in the end. If he was able to really see how you accidentally looked at him earlier, then surely he would’ve known how the world crashed on your shoulders just by looking at you. Oh, but it was funny wasn’t it? It didn’t matter anyway. After all, he wouldn’t give a damn right? Not what he did back there he wouldn’t.
Because of that, you realized that this conversation with him was not needed. Whether it was because of the project or if it was for a favor, you wouldn’t be able to do it without looking weak in his eyes. Your finger hovered over the red button, tempted to press hang up until again, his act of using a concerned voice tugged painfully on your heart strings.
“Wait, are you okay? Do you need me to be there? Something’s wrong, I know you’re not okay,” he tried for another time, breathing through the call tiredly as if he was oblivious to what went on earlier. The hate for him smoldered in your chest, and your fingers tightened around the phone so arduously that they turned white, shaking hysterically.
“No, I...” you felt your voice break, and you covered the change in pitch by clearing your throat. With the lump so gigantic that you couldn’t even breathe, it hurt to tell him a lie, much less speak at that moment. You put on a tone to make it more believable. “Everything’s fine. Just busy right now.”
“You’re lying,” he whispered so softly into the receiver you were wondering yourself if you had heard him in the first place. You forced yourself to laugh at his statement, but it came naturally, knowing it was all too true.
“I’m not lying, I promise! I just took a nap, that’s all. No need to be so worked up over me.” You figured that teasing him would be the best way to cover up your sorrow, giggling alongside him because you were so bad at lying. Nonetheless, you hoped he would take this approach, waiting silently on the floor for his best answer.
On the other side he hummed hesitantly, mumbling a few words that you couldn’t quite comprehend because you knew he didn’t want to hear them. You barely noticed you were in the corner holding yourself, rocking back and forth as the anticipation of just hanging up crept up on you.
Before you could start, Yeonjun grumbled in concern.
“Well... okay then. But if you really want to convince me you’re fine then you’ll keep your promise and meet at Moonlight today. We still have a lot to do, so let’s meet up at the usual time. You’ll be there, right?”
“Um... I...”
What else could you say? It would be rude to decline and you weren’t in the mood to lie after all that. Well, he didn’t buy it all but at least he got off the topic. You were thankful to him for not budging, although this had to be one of the worst things he could ever suggest. Not only about how you feel in the end but about the project too. As far as you were concerned, you only a little left so you were able to work separately anyway. He didn’t have to go so far to do things his way, but this would show you he didn’t need you at all.
You spoke on impulse hastily after the long, deafening silence.
“Yeah, okay. S-see you then.”
Abruptly, you hung up before the tears could start again. Not even letting him throw in a sincere goodbye to your predicament.
«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
Just like what you remembered, Moonlight was still a breathtaking place where the golden sun shone during the day and the moon peeked out from the dim curtains of nighttime. You sighed, staring longingly at the beautiful scenery before you and sat down under one of the trees. It’d been so long since you chose to come here, especially by yourself this time. There were happy memories that came along with this place and you didn’t want to think about the bad ones, of course. However everywhere you looked, it would only remind you of him and that was the least thing you wanted to have at the back of your mind right now.
Checking the time, you made sure you didn’t arrive too early or too late. It was a few minutes after five and true to your word, you actually came. You were surprised at yourself for showing up voluntarily with your mind in such a bad condition, acting as if you were okay just for a stupid project. If you’d done this earlier, you would’ve definitely said no. Perhaps it was the way he was worried about you- although, you thought it was fishy- that you wanted to come. Maybe then you would’ve gotten the attention you wanted after all this time, with this being the final time you’ll see him.
Eventually, you saw the familiar blue haired boy arrive just a quarter after your planned time. He was panting heavily and you swore you almost felt bad for him until the image of him catching eyes with you from earlier rearranged your thought process by miles. You stood up expectantly as he ran over to you, planting his hands on his knees in order to regain breath.
“So sorry for being late, Y/N,” he choked out restlessly, taking your hands into his as an apology. He held them tightly in place, squeezing in an attempt to excuse himself for why he was late. Instantly you gasped at the contact, slowly pulling away so that he wouldn’t realize that you more or less hated his affection. At times when you’d be melting at this, you failed to realize that your suspicions were true and he was playing you behind your back.
A tight lipped smile that screamed passive-aggressiveness became of your lips and you were eager to take a few steps away from him, shuffling to get under the spot you sat earlier. You backed away a little bit but weren’t able to get far because your shoes slipped from something shaped like a square underneath you. The breath was knocked off your lungs as you fell towards the ground and you plunged back, waiting to hit the ground. That is, until someone caught you by the waist.
You opened your eyes after a few seconds of waiting and as soon as you did... you felt all the blood rush up into your face.
“Y-Yeonjun...”
You weren’t expecting anything like this. Nothing sweet like this at all! Said boy was intently gazing at you, holding you by the waist as you were too shocked to say or hell- even do anything with him this close. Your head tilted away to the side this time, trying to think of anything else that would stop the intermittent pace of your heart beats. Gossiping with Soobin about what happened just now, the way you fell at school a few years earlier and embarrassed yourself and how he helped you up out of everyone else right after, the first moment you laid eyes on him and met the blue haired boy just like that... But no, all you could think of was him, him, and only him!
He seemed to be getting a kick out of this, teasing you with an adorable smile that had you awestruck.
“Were you scared...? Don’t worry about it anymore; I’ll always be here to catch you when you fall, I promise.”
It was then that he started to lean in after chuckling at your shyness, bringing your face closer to his as his eyes ran across yours. Your breath quickened just by looking back at him turn towards you- his gorgeous eyelashes that you felt the need to count each, his nose that was sculpted by the angels, his cherry blossom pink lips you so desperately needed- memorizing every valley on his face as you had done earlier when the two of you dated. Oh wait, dated...?
In a moment, you flung yourself off him. What were you doing with him?! Whatever this was and whatever he was doing- it wasn’t right! It just wasn’t right... It wasn’t right when he was choosing to see someone else, and that girl back there no matter how much you couldn’t help but despise her- did not deserve it. It wasn’t right.
Your legs felt like jelly, unable to stand by yourself as you carried out an attempt to get away from him. It didn’t seem so long ago that you couldn’t get enough of him but now you were itching to be left alone. You wanted to deal with this yourself, not reignite the fire of the hopes that he would return back. He lost that chance and you lost the chance of loving him again- even if yes, you still did love him. It was enough for you anyway- the love he gave you before only serving as a unreachable memory. You realized you needed to relinquish him.
Immediately you pushed him off you, watching the sweet expression on his face bend into something broken. The distance between you became even farther and farther with every breath your chest heaved. You gulped.
“I’m fine. Let’s just get to work so we can finish this,” you deadpanned, bringing your books that used to be laying dormant on the green grassland against your chest, moving under the tree where he broke up with you. This way you would be able to remind yourself that it wasn’t meant to be.
Surprised by your ill nature, Yeonjun nodded carefully, deciding to ponder in his head what was making you act this way instead of asking more questions. There was obviously something wrong, but he didn’t want to bother you more. To him he was unable to think of what he had done wrong and certainly hated the tense atmosphere when you refused to touch him, much less look at him. He just went along with it unknowingly like a fool that it was because of him the whole time.
«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
It was too hard to concentrate.
Your eyes searched despondently over the materials over and over and over again to write down something- anything that could possibly benefit the project, but it didn’t help at all that your mind was still on the boy sitting in front of you. Like a mantra, the memories of him smiling with that flawless girl kept replaying in your head as many more times as you bit by bit became insane with wrenching love.
Again, you couldn’t help but steal another glance at him before quickly ducking back down so he wouldn’t be able to catch you staring. He looked so peaceful while retracing his steps in the books, laying on his hand as a stand for his cheek. You hated how he could act so fine while you were left with nothing but hate towards him. Could you even call it hate anyway? It wasn’t true at all.
Yeonjun’s soothing voice snapped you out from your daze of pity, but it did the least to heal you and your pathetic attitude.
“Hey, do you think we could rest a second? I might fall asleep here if we have to keep reading about this nonsense stuff.”
You didn’t look up from your book, allowing him easy access to rest on your shoulder as silently as he could. His heart leaped with joy in his chest, but there was no chance he’d ever say it out loud. He graciously laid his head down upon it, becoming enamoured with your scent as he reached out to touch your hand. This need of affection easily leveled the desire which screamed out he needed you, but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get an opportunity to be yours again.
You, on the other hand, was dying to tell him you loved him- but it wasn’t right when he simply had the same love as you for another girl.
But at the same time, you wanted to be strong. You had to be strong in order to convince him you were doing fine without him even if the truth was far from that. You had to put on a mask to hide the pain you were going through just because of him and his stupid, contagious smile that makes you grin every time you see it. You had to be strong, otherwise you’d never fool him that you needed him more than anything or anybody you’ve ever wanted. You had to be strong... but why were all your actions simply betrayed you no matter what you did?
“Get off me.”
Your shoulders started to shake aimlessly, shuddering when you felt his head bury more into the crook of your skin. He must’ve not heard anything, and you clenched your jaw until it twitched with pain.
“I said, get off me!”
As hard as you could, you pushed him off you- enough that you were just inches apart from him. It didn’t compare to the distance between you that you came to note before.
The tears were hot against your cheeks and you collapsed into your shaking hands, unable to hold it in anymore. In all your life, you’ve never felt so humiliated before just because a boy lied to you willingly. You felt pathetic.
To say the least, Yeonjun was taken aback, his eyes wide with shock as he hopelessly reached out his hand to you. All the love you bore just for him crashed into waves upon your chest, and you slapped his fingers away harshly before he could even say something.
Miserably you hid your face from him, not allowing him to see such a mess that he caused by his own hands.
“Who even are you? Are you the Choi Yeonjun who broke up with me or are you someone else?! I don’t understand how you can act like this after everything that happened... tell me, are you just playing with me or something?”
“Y/N, that’s not what I meant to do...” he tried tiredly, scooting closer to no avail as you turned your back away from him.
You laughed at his words, still not being able to look at him straight in the eye.
“Not what you meant to do? You’re telling me that it’s not what you meant to do?! Then who- who was she? Because it seemed to me that you were happier with her than you could’ve ever been with me!”
The silence that broke you apart was too deafening as you caught another look at him.
“Y/N, that’s not true... just listen, please,” Yeonjun begged, gazing at you desperately with unreadable but melancholy expression that had you on edge. He knew that you wouldn’t stay if he physically bound you in his embrace, but he had no clue what to do or what to say. He just wanted- no, needed you to really live.
Your heart broke all the more at the words he tried to pick up in order to explain- which you were sure he could hear even if he seemed very far. Easily you trashed his attempt away, getting up from your spot since you didn’t want to hear anything- anymore lies that would hurt the person you tried so hard to protect and shield away from the inevitable demise of love... that was you.
Yeonjun hurriedly got up along with you, leaving the pile of your books abandoned on the floor as he rushed out to match your pace. He ran with all his might to catch up with you but every time he reached your side- you would push him away like earlier and he didn’t have time to find his breath.
“Yeonjun, leave her alone. Haven’t you done enough, already?”
Seconds later upon hearing another voice, you rushed to someone else’s side, hoping that he would be able to protect you from the danger. It was pitiful with you standing right behind him as if that would help, but it did more than what you could ever be grateful for.
Yeonjun tensed up at his spot, stunned to see Soobin when he could’ve sworn nobody else was at Moonlight. In his mind, he could see the two of you right there apart from everything else- the two friends that looked so good together... it had to be much better than him after what he’d done. He came to a thought, letting his guard down while words of Soobin asking too many questions towards you occupied his head.
“I knew it. I knew you two were dating. I-I should’ve known,” he mumbled under his breath, his morals paralyzing him in place as he dropped his gaze towards at the ground instead.
Somehow Soobin heard this muttering and smugly smirked at this silly situation, taking a fresh opportunity that could probably boost destiny’s way before hiding it with a deep frown. He pulled you flush against his chest, holding you when you surprisingly really needed it from someone else.
“You finally figured this out? Leave us alone; you lost your chance the minute you broke up with her, pal.”
As Soobin dragged you along, you took one last look towards Yeonjun and gasped when you saw along with yours- two longing eyes flowing with tears that were nothing short of love. You wanted to reach out to help him not to cry like that even if he hurt you, but it would never work out and he’d leave you just like he’d done before. This only showed that you weren’t meant to be, never in a million years.  
And with that you left with the help of Soobin, leaving Yeonjun alone at Moonlight. Time passed to the point where he gazed upon the stars- wishing that you would come back because he wanted to say he still loved you- by himself.
«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
It was Thursday, the final day where the two of you would ultimately finish this project. The death of having an obligation which ripped your heart out, for better or for worse. The demise of whatever love you shared. The end of seeing him because you really wanted- no, you needed to. Everything was over in a blink of an eye and you were left feeling bittersweet about the situation... more bitter compared to sweet because you wanted more time with him. You knew deep down inside it wasn’t too much to ask, but... ending this would be for the better. It must be.
You were on your usual pathway home from the library after trying to bribe the librarian to excuse you from losing your books (when you actually accidentally left it there with him) while along the way thinking about what to do to make a grand finish for the project. Since the two of you worked on it a lot for a few hours before you exploded on him- something you weren’t sorry for in the least bit because it got your feelings out- it was safe to say that he wouldn’t bother you about it anymore. He finished his side, you were assuming, so he didn’t have to see you for the time being unless he ever decided to talk it out with you. Other than the fact that you totally hurt him back there, it honestly served you a great victory on a silver platter as you waited for the dragged out day to be over.
It was petty, of course it was! But after what he did back there at the Boulangerie while not to mention, make eye contact with you- sweet revenge had to be one of the best tastes a connoisseur could ever call upon.
And the project? Oh yeah, that’s right. It was a good thing that it was the final day so you wouldn’t have to act civil with him, for better or for worse.
After a few more blocks finally, you made it home, causing you to sigh out in relief. Hurriedly you grabbed your keys from your purse, fumbling with several of them to find the one that fit perfectly. The familiar touch never came though, and you groaned loudly, cursing yourself in your head for forgetting it in the library. It was when you set it down next to the book you were reading before you confronted the librarian- poor old woman- and somehow, you forgot to pick it up the second you got up.
Great, now this.
You opted to stare at the horizon in front of you, letting the breeze freely cool down your body. The sight was nothing less than pretty. It was a windy, golden sunny day outside but you didn’t want anything to do with it. All day you were planning to mope around the house and watch your favorite shows, procrastinating ‘til the last minute until the due date of every assignment arrived. They hit differently whenever you grabbed a bag of chips downstairs to finish them along with the homework, and you giggled at every moment that flashed in your head.
There was nothing else better to do but call Soobin, right? Although you didn’t want to bother him because these months have definitely been annoying for him whether he said it or not.
Defeated, you then stared down into the white porch as if it was at fault, feeling fear rise up your throat. What were you going to do? There was no one else you had given the key to, except...
“Y/N? Can we talk?”
Oh, no. Oh, no... Oh no no no!
When you heard that voice you were instantly glued to that spot, feet affixed on the porch as your heart beat too fast for its own good. Your mind must’ve been hallucinating and playing tricks on you; clearly you weren’t ready to see him yet!
Swiftly you moved your head to the side, eyes widening with appall to see that he was actually right there. Expression nothing less than sorrow, hair messed up and fluffy right in front of his eyes, cherry blossom lips curved into a trembling frown: it was Yeonjun, alright, but yet it was someone you couldn’t recognize due to the complete change of attitude in him. He was tightly holding onto your books but seemingly refusing to hand them over as if that would do anything better and increase the need for conversation. Unlike his stiff posture, his eyes held firm intent though, and you quivered at the determination sewn in them.
“Do you need anything?”
Instead of acting childish like you played out in your head, you simply responded it a curt voice because it was better than saying nothing and benefiting the sworn silence. More than anything you wanted to get out of there and leave the awkward tension, but there was nothing else you could possibly do without embarrassing yourself due to the fact you lost your keys.
“I... I...” This time, he avoided your eyes, words caught in his throat as he couldn’t find the exact thing to say. It wouldn’t make things any better, you realized. It just wasn’t meant to be.
You pursed your lips, locking them into a line. Whatever he had to say- it didn’t matter. Plus, there was another thing. As your eyes were already tearing up, it would be hard to stay for long to listen to his words. There was no telling what you’d say if tears automatically streamed down your cheeks.
“If you don’t have anything to say, then I’ll l-leave. We can just work on the project separa-”
Clack!
Clack!
Clack!
Before you could even stay true to your words, Yeonjun took slow steps towards you that had you walking backwards... without you looking.
Soon enough your back hit the door, and you gasped at the close proximity between the two of you now as he leaned in. His hands reached out to cage you in between his arms, tilting his head to the side to study your reaction. The soft blue hair brushed against the top of your head- showing how dangerously close he was. His breath fanned across your lips and his heavenly cologne infiltrated your sense of smell. If he decided to torture you even more, then you’d be able to touch noses from how near he was.
Look, you weren’t sure how to describe it at that moment other than- he was pinning you to the damn wall?! Suddenly you felt all the blood rush in your face, and it was then that you couldn’t make eye contact with him anymore- especially because he’d see how embarrassed you were! He didn’t have to be that close!
“yes, I need something. Or more specifically, you.”
His voice was much more huskier than you remembered it to be, and his eyes fell upon yours, begging for you to look back if not for your anxiety that he was this close. You immediately shut your eyes, heart beating erratically in your chest even if you tried to stop it by focusing on something else. But Yeonjun... how could you not think of anything else but him?! He was nothing short of breathtaking but seeing him this close and personal... it didn’t do good things for your heart!
“M-me?”
It was obvious that the boy was amused even if he felt guilty about the problem, making a quick exhale through his nose to show entertainment. His chuckle that came heartily through his chest caused your ears to heat up with shame since it showed how weak you were- just for him.
“Yes you, you silly baby,” he cooed endearingly, “who else could it be?”
“You’re one to be calling me silly! Don’t pretend like you were the one the other day who asked if frogs have blood!”
In a split second, his face morphed into something nothing less than serious and his left arm dropped to his side. You couldn’t help but wonder at the duality he managed to have when the gravity of the situation hit him.
“I miss things like this. I miss it so much. I miss joking around with you and chasing you around the house just to tickle you. I miss how attached you were because little did you know, I was just as much attached to you as you were to me.
“I miss the sweet look you give me every time I ask you out on a date. I miss having you right beside me whenever we studied together because you were the only person who cheered me on even when it was two in the morning. I miss giving you random kisses out of nowhere because I can’t get enough of you and that adorable, surprised face whenever I did so.
“I miss slipping my hand into yours whenever we would walk home together, letting you cling onto me so that I could protect you from all dangers. I miss giving you victory every argument we had because I hate making you cry. I miss cuddling you on the couch as we watched our favorite shows together whenever we were too lazy to get up and how I couldn’t stop smiling every time you laughed.
“I miss kissing the top of your forehead and you never knew because you were asleep. I miss waking up with you by my side and seeing something so gorgeous it would stay in my head all day even if I studied the same materials over and over again. I miss looking up at the stars with you at Moonlight and resting my head on your lap as you ran your fingers through my hair and how we’d do it every single week.
“Can’t you see? I miss you and every little thing you do, simple or exquisite. I know why you acted that way yesterday and I hate myself so much for not realizing it until later. I owed her something after she told me a way to somehow get closer to you when I’d done such a horrible thing. You can love Soobin- I don’t care about myself anymore as long I get to see my favorite girl smile due to the fact that she’s in love.
“Y/N, you mean much more to me than anything and it’s okay if you’re happy not loving me again because at least I got to experience the full joy and sadness that visited along with the love of my life. This may be the last time you may ever want to see me, but please... let me tell you how much I need you one last time.”
His eyes were shining, full of sincerity that you were able to feel even if you weren’t him. Tears resembling glistening pearls streamed down with his cheeks as he finally told you the truth he’d been dying to tell you, allowing you to see his vulnerabilities inside out. And yet, he was genuinely smiling as he confessed this, happy enough he got the chance to tell you loved you one last time.
Gradually he extended his arms out wide, allowing you to have your personal space while he took a few steps backwards and towards the grass where you followed him. By the end of it all, you weren’t able to help the tears welling up in your eyes at how touched you were from the inside. It was him, the boy who promised to love you until the end of time.
“Y-Yeonjun, I...” he cut in through your words, closing his eyes in fear of the pain that would soon become of his body if you did in the end, choose to grant his wish. It simply wasn’t enough to level the agony of his heart, but he was willing to take all the pain instead of burdening it on you.
“I’ll let you push me. I’ll let you hit me. I’ll let you get back what you deserve. You can slap me, as long as you let everything out. I don’t want you to hurt anymore because of me, so just do it!”
...
...
...
Silence.
Oh, the euphoric relief coursing in your veins that really pushed you over the edge.
Immediately you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you could because you never wanted to let go. You melted into his embrace upon contact, burying your head against his chest that was warm and overflowing with passion. Yeonjun hesitantly embraced you back, unsure of what happened just now.
You couldn’t help but giggle at his dumbfound expression.
“You silly baby,” you teased, repeating his playful words from earlier, “I’m not dating Soobin and I never have. Why would I date him when I’ll never love this way again?”
You booped his nose as quickly as you could, smiling when he finally reciprocated the same grin back.
“Choi Yeonjun, you were such a fool to lose me, but I’m even more of a fool to love you again. I’ve never stopped loving you, although I’m sure you already knew that, hEY-”
With happiness overflowing the boy, he picked you up and you were swept off your feet in a second. Wide smiles reflected back and forth from his face to yours as he spun you around him a few inches from the ground, pure bliss surrounding the two of you since you both were complete again. He let you laugh in his hands, tickling your sides unintentionally while you snickered at him to let you down. He only chuckled at this, stopping in place but still refusing to listen to your request.
“I love your very big brain that’s so smart it makes me frustrated with how dumb I am sometimes,” he brought you down a little bit to kiss your forehead. He then trailed down to your nose.
“I love how you ask me for opinions of perfume when you know deep down instead I adore your natural scent instead,” he kissed your nose and you laughed at the feeling it naturally gave you.
“But most importantly,” Yeonjun placed you down on the golden grasslands again and ceased right in front of your lips, letting his breath fall upon them, “I love you.”
Then he connected your lips together, bringing you closer towards him than he had ever done before.
At last, everything was finally perfect.
«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
Posted: 3/29/21- 1:37am (yes i did stay up halfway to two am just to get this finished. priorities people- it’s just a sweet early monday here 😔🧍)
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marsbutterfly · 3 years
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Skyfall
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Summary: When you are hired to kill the most dangerous mafia boss, things get a little complicated.
Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!
|◁ II ▷|
“This is the end
Hold your breath and count to ten
Feel the Earth move and then
Hear my heart burst again”
7:34pm
The clock on your wrist tics quietly but in the silent room, it nearly sounds like bombs being dropped from above. Not a word is exchanged between you and the man sitting across the room but you know exactly what he wants.
In his hand rests a dark colored suitcase, you can barely tell until the light hits his belt ever so gently but you finally see the gun he’s been carrying.
You take a deep breath, getting up for your seat. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor fills the atmosphere as you walk towards him, the smirk on his lips is undeniable and you don’t understand what he has to be smiling about.
He stands up a second after you and walks in your direction, bumping against you and dropping his suitcase and the papers in his hand. In response, you throw on the floor the suitcase you once held. 
The man apologizes profoundly as you help him collect the papers on the floor. You say over and over that it is ok, while all the curious eyes in the room land on you. As you stand up, you hand him the suitcase you once had in your hand and he nods, thanking you for the help and apologizing one last time.
You begin to make your way back to your car, the smirk on his lips still engraved in your brain as a chill travels down your spine. “Why was he smiling?” You ask yourself not wanting to admit it but you are a bit scared of knowing the answer.
Though once you open the suitcase, you understand why. Inside, rests the pictures and information of your next target, the millionaire leader of an enemy gang. Though you don’t enjoy taking sides, you’ve been paid a large amount of money to take her out, more than you have ever made.
The war between these two gangs has been going on for the longest time and you have killed enough people on both sides to earn a fair amount of enemies, but this time you couldn’t help but feel a sinking hole opening in your heart.
Hanji Zoe has always been the deadliest member of the underground group. Her kill count is even higher than yours, at least 500+ heads under her belt. They say her torture methods surpass even the ones they use in hell.
She’s known as the Devil herself.
“For this is the end
I've drowned and dreamt this moment
So overdue, I owe them
Swept away, I'm stolen”
8:15pm
Your keys unlock the heavy doors of your house and somehow the marble floors feel colder than ever. Your shoes rest in their designated spot by the coat holder and you throw the suitcase on the couch.
Two cups rest on the counter near the bar area inside your home. One of them contains what you assume is whisky, due to the color and the amount of ice in the cup, it has always been her favorite after a work day.
The lipstick marks are fresh meaning she has just now gotten home. Upon paying closer attention, you realize the shower is on and steam is coming out of the bathroom. You think about joining her but ultimately decide to have a drink first, trying to forget about your next target.
Gently, you take two rocks of ice and place them in the clean cup specifically placed out for you. Pouring yourself a single shot of whisky, you walk towards the balcony feeling as the cold air of the night hits your face.
You knew this day would come but you hoped it would take longer. 
Deep in your own thoughts, you don’t realize the water has been turned off in the bathroom and wet footsteps approach your body.
It’s not until her wet arms wrap around your black dress that you realize you are no longer alone. Her face is buried in your back and you can see steam leaving her arms as the hair on her skin stands up.
The tattoo of your initials on her hand still brings butterflies to your stomach. The memory of the night she got it is still one of your favorite moments you spent together, especially since it was after your first date and she told you she knew you were the one.
“I missed you.” She says, placing a kiss on your skin. You can feel as her breasts are pressed against you and a gasp leaves your body.
“I missed you too.” You reply, a disobedient tear rolling down your face as you chug the contents of the cup in your hand.
“What’s wrong?” She asks, placing her hand on your waist as she turns your body around so you can face her. She is a few inches taller, nothing too extreme but enough to make you look up at her gently.
Her thumb brushes the tear on your cheek before rubbing it above your lips. You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to tell her the news you just received.
“You are my next target.” You say and Hanji nods, a sad smirk on her lips.
“Let the sky fall
When it crumbles
We will stand tall
Face it all together” 
9:00pm
The brush goes through her hair with ease for the first time, as if she took care of the tangles in the shower already knowing what the news you were bringing would be. After shower moments were the ones where Hanji was the most vulnerable.
She would simply close her eyes and appreciate the attention she’s been given as she fades in the echo of your voice. You hum a melody quietly, Hanji’s favorite song in the hopes to bring her any comfort at all.
Your tears drip down your nose onto her scalp as you put her hair in a ponytail, attempting to help her get ready for the party she will be attending in an hour. At the highest floor of the second tallest building in the entire city.
“How are you going to do it?” She asks, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke up in the air while trying to make rings out of it. You giggle, touching her shoulders before sliding your hands down her arms.
You notice the goosebumps rising on her skin and can’t help but smile at how she reacts to your touch. “Must we talk about it?”
“I need to know.” She replies and you nod, sighing heavily while finally agreeing to talk about the elephant in the room.
“I’ll be on the roof of the Paradise building. I am pretty sure they will send someone to watch me do it.” You begin, spraying the bottle of perfume around her and noticing as the drops of liquid fall on her tan skin, masking the smell of the cigarette.
“But they might not.” She says and you shrug your shoulders.
“They might not.” You say quietly.
“I wouldn’t expect any less from this city’s top 1 assassin.” She says, taking your hand in hers and planting a soft kiss on your palm, leaving behind the red mark of her deep colored lipstick.
She stands up, allowing the robe to fall to the floor and reveal her naked body. You can’t look away from the perfect shape of her breasts, the line that goes through her abdomen from a previous surgery and all of her battle scars.
“Make me yours one last time.” You say, pulling your shirt above her head as you expose yourself to her and she nods, a devious smile curling up on her lips.
You see a few old bullet wounds, some healed while others are still healing. Every single one of them tells a story about who she is and how she has lived her life but your favorite story has always been the one of how she lost her eye.
It was three years ago, the day you met. How could you ever forget?
“Let the sky fall
When it crumbles
We will stand tall
Face it all together
At Skyfall”
Since you were a teenager, you’ve been good at killing. First your shitty parents and every family member who sided with them, including your own brother and sister. Finally being able to control your life, you decided to make a living out of it.
This career put you through college where you earned a chemistry degree, learning how to mix your personal kinds of poison, some of which no one has ever even heard of which makes it hard for the police to find who was responsible for it.
At first, you would go for basic targets: rapists, animal abusers, anyone who dared hurt another soul but word got out of how excellent and quick you were at your job and your number of clients tripled and your name was in everyone’s mouth.
One day, you got a call from a blocked russian number. A smile creeped on your lips as you heard a familiar voice over the phone, Erwin Smith. The man who gave you a chance to grow in this life and made you who you are today, your mentor.
“Y/N, I’m dying.” He says, his voice is faint and you notice his life force is fading away. 
“I can tell.” You reply trying to lighten the mood and he laughs.
“Will you still work for the next boss?” He asks, coughing out a liquid which you could only assume was blood. 
“If that is your dying wish.” You respond and he hums in agreement over the phone, “Then yes.”
Later that week, two men showed up to your house to escort you to Erwin’s funeral. The rain poured over his coffin, hiding away the tears of those who loved him.
Surrounded by at least five men sat a woman in a black coat, her eyes looking in your direction as she took the cigarette to her lips. The tattoos on her leg on display for anyone to see, you could’ve sworn she was silently flirting with you.
And in a moment of weakness, a car drove by shooting up the place completely. Of course they were received with a buffet of bullets as well, but nearly a third of the people around the casket were now dead.
As a bullet makes its way towards you, the brunette with danger in her eyes rushes forward to protect you only to receive the bullet with a glass platter. Needless to say, an uncountable amount of shards found their way into her eyeball.
While she bled in your arms, you tried to make sure she remained awake.
“What’s your name?” You ask and she smiles, bringing your hand towards her lips and licking your thumb with a palpable sexual energy.
“Hanji. Hanji Zoe.” She replied, “The new boss.”
“Skyfall is where we start
A thousand miles and poles apart
Where worlds collide and days are dark
You may have my number, you can take my name
But you'll never have my heart”
10:05pm
Once you are finished redoing Hanji’s hair, she stares at the closet before finally picking out a blood colored suit. No shirt underneath, she places the blazer right above her nipples, only enough to cover them while allowing the rest of her breasts to be exposed.
You on the other hand plan to dress yourself in a completely black outfit hoping to blend into the darkness of the night. Luck was on your side for there were no stars to brighten the sky, allowing you to take complete cover.
As far as you know, nobody is aware of your relationship with Hanji, not even her subordinates. Keeping business away from your private life has always been a priority, even before you committed your first paid killing.
She places a final kiss on your hands and one of your lips, though it does not feel like a goodbye and you sadly accept any kind of comfort you can find.
When her car is out of view, you decide to go up and take a shower by yourself. You wanted to decline this job, to throw everything away: your reputation, the money and simply run away with Hanji to a place where you could live your lives.
But you can’t. Before even knowing who your targets are, you are always made to sign a consent form and if broken, it would cost you your life.
The warm water hits your face and you can still smell Hanji’s strawberry shampoo in the air mixed with the fading smoke of her cigarettes. You begin to remember every shower you spent together, every kiss you shared at the most exquisite places around the world.
Hanji always knew how to make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Eventually, you can no longer if the water streaming down your face comes from the shower or your tears.
As you finish your shower, you begin to get ready. The black outfit had never been colder and the unsettling feeling at the pit of your stomach still remains. While putting a mask above your face, you look at your rifle.
It has your initials and Hanji’s secretly carved on the side and on the other it has the date you started dating. A good luck charm, as she liked to call it.
Tonight will be a fucking awful night.
“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)
When it crumbles (when it crumbles)
We will stand tall (we will stand tall)
Face it all together
At Skyfall”
1:53am
Hours have passed since you've been sitting at the top of this building by yourself, looking through the binoculars at the party happening not too far away.  In the end, they decided not to send anyone to watch over your shoulder as you do your job.
The richest and most powerful people in town were all attending and, even though they wore masks, you could still tell exactly who they were. The years of analyzing and recognizing targets from afar has given you the extraordinary ability to identify covered faces.
By the bar, you see her as she rests her arm on the glass top. She looks beautiful. Her whiskey brown eyes match the liquid in her cup as the black mask covers her features. For a second, you could’ve sworn she looked directly at you.
The instructions were clear: at 2am, a single bullet should be shot directly to her head, killing her instantly. So you position your gun, looking through the lense as Hanji disappears in the crowd for a bit before returning to her usual spot.
You sigh, stopping the tears that attempt to cloud your vision. Your finger slowly moves towards the trigger, as if time itself is desperately trying to stop you from killing your loved one, but it doesn’t matter. No one could stop you now.
Counting the seconds, you make sure the shot to her head is clear and you pray she won’t suffer at all. “Goodbye, my love.”
Time nearly stops once you pull the trigger. You watch closely as the bullet goes through her brain and blood splatters across the clear counter causing every person in the room to desperately run for their lives, not knowing they are all safe.
Only one man stands in the room and he raises his glass at you for he is the only one who knows no more shots will be fired. The asshole who hired you to kill the love of your life. Fucking Zeke Yeager.
With every ounce of your body, you decide that killing him isn’t worth it. He deserves to live to suffer in the future.
You bring your body back up, beginning to disassemble your rifle. It takes you less than a minute to be on your way and you can hear as police sirens approach the building in front of you.
“Where you go, I go
What you see, I see
I know I'd never be me
Without the security
Of your loving arms
Keeping me from harm
Put your hand in my hand
And we'll stand”
Finally getting back to your house, you throw the bag containing the gun on the couch before plopping your body right beside it, a long sigh escaping your lips.
Your eyes then notice the packed bags, all ready to leave as soon as possible. The clicking of heels comes from the other side of the house and you smirk, rushing your thumb through your lips.
“I feel bad for the lady you hired to die in your place.” You say, turning around and propping your chin on the back of the couch.
“Would you prefer if I had died in her place?” Hanji asks, rushing her hand through her freshly shaved head in an attempt to get rid of any hairs that still remain attached to her.
“Of course not, love.” You reply, walking towards her before taking the glass of wine from her free hand.
“Hanji Zoe is dead and the witness to it is Zeke Yeager himself.” She says, a devious smile on her lips.
You can’t help but link your mouth with hers, tasting the delightful mixture of alcohols she has had tonight. Her hands travel through your body, exploring every inch of your skin before gently brushing against your inner thigh.
You gasp gently, nearly melting in response to her actions. God knows you want to melt but you don’t have time.
“It’s 4:25am, the plane leaves in 35 minutes so we should go.” She says and you nod.
You grab one of the packed bags plus your rifle and she grabs the rest before extending her hand to you, hoping to walk away from this life with you by her side but not before staging your own kidnapping and death, everything so no one would ever look for either of you.
Once done with arrangements, she smiles. 
“So where are we going to make our new home?” You ask.
“My home is wherever you are.” She replies and you feel your cheeks getting warm before she continues, “But I was planning the Carribeans.” 
“Fuck yes.” Is all you say and she laughs, squeezing your hand as you both say goodbye to the apartment you’ve shared for years. Leaving behind a life of danger to live together in the house of your dreams, far away from all the negativity.
Just you and Hanji. And maybe a few cats and dogs along the way.
“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)
When it crumbles (when it crumbles)
We will stand tall (we will stand tall)
Face it all together
At Skyfall”
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glacecakes · 4 years
Text
Alchemy Lullaby (10/?)
Of all the changes that came with living in the castle, becoming a father was not one he anticipated. When Eugene encounters a small child suffering like he did, he gives them the opportunity to grow up the way he never did… helping them both heal. (AU where Varian is 4 and gets adopted by Eugene)
Totally harmless fun, nothing out of the unusual! Snow days! Varian fights for Eugene's hand!
Read the rest on AO3
A lot of this was inspired by jokes and plot bunnies from the Scar AU server, big thanks to them! And to all of you for your words of love on this fic! Forfeit all mortal possessions to baby. I'm debating whether or not to redo chapter 1 bc i'm not a fan of how ooc eugene is so if u have any opinions on that feel free to share
The wind howled, beating mercilessly against the windows. At this rate, Eugene would spend tomorrow morning cleaning the yards of debris. Captain always gave him labor when he got pissy, and Eugene’s been pushing the man’s buttons lately. Or rather, he keeps letting Varian mess with him.
Eugene tries to be strict, he really does! It’s just whenever he looks into those baby blue eyes, so full of love and adoration, he forgets whatever he was going to say and gives Varian whatever he asks for. Cassandra and Rapunzel tease him mercilessly for it, and every single time, Eugene swears he’ll be stricter, only for the process to start all over again. 
Case in point, the door to his room creaks open, letting in the hallway’s candlelight. A familiar mop of black hair peeks in. Its owner debates whether or not to enter, and Eugene sighs fondly. As he sits up, his young son grips tighter on the doorknob, deep in thought.
“Bud,” He whispers, and Varian starts. “You coming in?”
It takes a moment for him to make up his mind, but sure enough, Varian toddles in. “Couldn’t sleep,” He mumbles. “Sky is loud.”
“The storm?”
“Mhm.” Varian responded, struggling to climb up onto the bed. His short legs kicked wildly as he finally pulled himself up to Eugene’s side. He really needed to start enforcing boundaries. Varian needed to sleep in his own bed. Then again, he usually did, this stuff only happened once a week. Was that normal at his age? Or was it an anxiety thing? He needs to buy more parenting books...
“Don’t like storms, they’re cold,” Varian mumbled, snapping Eugene out of his spiralling panic. 
Oh. 
Eugene’s teeth bit into his bottom lip, worrying it. Then, silently, he lifted the covers up, and let Varian snuggle deep in. 
It wasn’t enough, apparently. Varian let out a whine, and reached his arms up towards his caretaker. He gave a little grabby motion, making Eugene laugh. 
“Use your words, bluebird.”
Varian pouted, cranky tears budding. “Cuddles?” He asked, and, ope, there’s those big puppy dog eyes again. 
Cassandra and Rapunzel were right. He’s weak. 
“Of course,” Eugene grabbed a blanket from the end of his bed. The soft velvet swaddled his kid like a burrito, and he wrapped Varian in tight. He looked like a little worm, wiggling about in the bundle, but unable to escape. It was for Eugene’s safety; Varian liked to kick in his sleep. On one of the first nights, Varian had kicked him in the face and gave him a bloody nose. 
He swept Varian up, bouncing the sack in his arms. Only Varian’s head was visible, and it was one of sleepy delight. His eyes struggled to stay open as Eugene rested them both on his back, Varian’s ear up to his chest. The father’s heartbeat thrummed like a lullaby. 
“Goodnight, Varian,” Eugene whispered.
“Night, daddy,” Varian yawned. They fell asleep in minutes. 
-
Varian smushed his face against the window, marvelling at the power that fell from the sky. Snow usually meant a day inside, bundled up by a fire, with his momma showing him an ounce of concern by letting him have cocoa. But now that he was with Eugene, snow meant play! It meant Eugene had the day off from teaching! To spend all day with him!
He bounded out of his room and skidded down the corridor, passing guards and maids alike. It was as if he was flying, he was so excited!
“Eugeneeeeeeeee!” He cried, jumping onto his caretaker’s stomach. The man knew what he wanted, and was able to catch him.
“Oof, you know I have ribs, right?” He grunted, swinging Varian up into his arms. Since he’d moved in, Varian had gotten a good bit heavier. That wasn’t a bad thing, quite the opposite; the doctors are very thrilled at Varian’s turn in health. His cheeks were plump and pinchable with baby fat, as they should be. “So, what’s up?”
“It’s snowing!” Varian gushed, wiggling around in his dad’s arms. “Can we go outside, pleeeeeease?” 
The man hummed in thought. “Well, since you said please, sure. But!” He held up a finger to stop Varian from bouncing out of his arms. “We gotta bundle up or there’s no going outside. That means shoes, young man!” That earned him a pout. He and Rapunzel had more than just freckles in common. 
Thankfully, Varian was too eager to go outside to complain, so they were bundled up and in the yard pretty fast. To be honest, Eugene hated snow. It was wet, and not the fun kind. It was the “ruin your socks and hair” kind of wet. But since everyone else in Corona seemed to be a fan, he had no choice but suck it up. 
Hey, at least the kid was enjoying himself. Varian’s cheeks were flushed a rose red, and snot dribbled down his nose, but he wasn’t complaining. Eugene bundled him up so tight it was a miracle the kid could move, let alone run and play, but Varian waddled around like a penguin without a care in the world. Each step was accompanied by the crunch of snow under his feet, and a flurry of powder from when he lifted his foot. 
At some point, a patch of snow fell from a tree and onto his head, earning Eugene the privilege of hearing Varian’s delighted squeals. You’d think that would upset him, but no. Eugene could never predict what would upset the kid, and what would be laughed off. 
And hey, if Varian liked the first few spatters of snow on his head, Eugene was content to watch him tempt fate. 
Varian decided to try and recreate that feeling, the shock and joy of extra snow coming from the sky, and so he ran from tree to tree, smacking the bark and shrieking when snow fell. He was small, so it wasn’t like he could knock too much snow…
No wait, spoke too soon.
Eugene bit back laughter as he watched. Varian, overly confident, marched up to a large pine tree, one with massive mounds of snow trapped on leaves. He seemed to be under the assumption that more snow was more fun, and so he backed up, and threw his entire body at the tree. 
It worked too well. A cascade of snow fell from the heavens, and god, Eugene felt so bad for laughing, but the face of horror at what he’d done just moments before being buried in snow… it was priceless. The snow fell with a whump, and Varian completely vanished from view. The only remainder of the kid was the pom pom of his hat. 
For a moment, there was silence. Varian stood still, shocked at what had happened. Then, he started kicking, trying to get to the surface of the mound. It stretched on forever, his entire sight was white! (In reality, It was maybe 3 inches taller than him.)
Eugene silently fell to the ground, laughter shaking him to his core. The laughs only got more intense when Varian, panicking and trying to escape, somehow ended up upside down. Only his little boots were free, and they kicked wildly. It seemed this was when Varian gave up, as he let out a siren’s wail. 
“Oh, buddy,” Eugene wheezed, jogging over. Through the snow he could hear Varian’s muffled screams and tears. He could breathe, the snow wasn’t nearly dense enough to suffocate him, but it was certainly scary. “I gotcha.” With a quick tug, Eugene pulled Varian feet first, and found himself at eye level with a distraught toddler. His entire face was red, eyelashes covered in white crystals, and pudgy cheeks were covered in tears. 
“Stop laughingggggg,” Varian whined, but it only made the man laugh harder. The shaking of his abs made it hard to hold onto his squirming child, but it was totally worth it. 
-
“Here’s the brush you were looking for, sunshine.” Eugene hummed, holding a now dry Varian in one hand and his gift in the other. Rapunzel brightened at seeing them, happily taking her brush back. 
“Thanks, Eugene,” She said, pecking him on the cheek. Varian frowned, confused at how Eugene’s cheeks warmed at her touch. And what was that expression, all gooey and smiley? He’d never seen anything like it, not from momma, or any villager, he’d only seen it between those two! He let out a noise of complaint, and reached out to grasp Rapunzel’s hair. 
“Oh, Varian, did you want a kiss too?” she asked, chuckling. He was the biggest lovebug, delighting in all sorts of hugs and snuggles. Whereas Cass couldn’t handle more than a few seconds of her notorious bear hugs, Varian sought them out when he was feeling sad. It was a refreshing change that she very much appreciated and adored. 
But Varian shook his head, further incensed. “Why’s he making that face?” he asked. 
“Who, Eugene?” Said man snapped out of his love-lorn trance to watch the conversation. 
“Hey, my face is flawless! It’s cuz I love her, that’s all.”
“But I love Punzel too!” Varian whined. He didn’t make that expression, did he? Oh gosh, he hoped not! It looks so stupid! 
“It’s a different kind of love, Varian,” with a smile, Rapunzel took one of Varian’s hands in her own. “It’s a kind of love you only share with one person, and it’s very special.”
“The best kind of love there is,” Eugene agreed, and oh, there’s the expression again, except Rapunzel was making a similar one. They came together in a kiss, squishing Varian in between them. While he did enjoy the closeness, the words caught him off guard. Love you share with only one person? Does that mean Eugene doesn’t love him? Rapunzel…. She stole Eugene’s love from him! 
“Fight me!” 
Rapunzel and Eugene broke apart, shocked, as if they had forgotten he was there. He glared daggers at Rapunzel. “Fight me for Eugene’s love!” 
Eugene sputtered in shock. “W-what…? Buddy, you don’t need to fight for-”
“Swords at dawn!” the child roared, fussing until he was let go. He landed on the floor squarely and puffed up his chest. 
Despite his attempts to look intimidating, it failed spectacularly. He looked like an angry marshmallow. It didn’t help that his outfit for the day was a fuzzy, oversized sweater. Rapunzel bit back a laugh. 
“Where did you hear that term, young man?” She joked, hands on her hips. Varian wasn’t deterred and didn’t respond, only puffing up his cheeks. The princess shook her head fondly. “He gets it from you,” she muttered to Eugene, who gasped, insulted. “Me? It’s totally from you!” 
Varian stomps his foot. “Hey!” he cries, and the attention goes back to him. 
“You’re right, it’s totally me,” Eugene runs a hand over his face. “You don’t need to fight Rapunzel, Varian, I love you both equally!”
Varian shakes his head. “You said your love is only with one person, and it’s special! Well, I want it! I’m special, right?” 
Eugene couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed and slightly bewildered. “Y-yes, but this is a different kind of special…!” His face burned a bright red. 
“I’ll do it.”
Both father and son turned to Rapunzel, who gazed at Varian with a smirk and fire in her eyes. “You and me, we fight for Eugene’s love tomorrow, sound good?”
“Winner takes Eugene, loser dies!” He crowed. They shook hands, completely ignoring Eugene’s face of dumbstruck horror. 
The rest of the day, Varian and Rapunzel kept their distance, Rapunzel’s glare more teasing, while Varian’s was full of fury and jealousy. All the while, Eugene bounced and forth between both of them, trying to stop the fight before it began.
“Come on, bud, you love Rapunzel, right? Just like I do. You don’t have to do this,” he pleaded over the dinner table. Varian crossed his arm, a glob of food falling off his spoon and onto his sleeve. 
“I’m fighting for your honor!” 
“I regret reading you Flynn Rider.” 
Rapunzel bit back a laugh, letting the child stare her down. She ignored the confused looks of her parents, sticking her tongue out in return. Varian wanted a fight? She’s more than willing to throw down. Not for real, sun no, she’s not crazy. But the look on Eugene’s face was so funny… and besides, it’s her turn to be the fun parent! Even if that means fighting over the other parent. Varian seemed so eager, and hey, she’d always fight for her right to love Eugene, no matter who the opponent was! Eugene glanced over at her, desperate for help, for Rapunzel to admit that this was an elaborate ruse. She simply smiled and dug further into her meal. 
What’s the harm?
-
Quirin paced back and forth in his room, wearing the wood thin with his weight. 
“I should tell the king… no… it had to be a coincidence, right? I saw Ulla take it, but she says she doesn’t have it, it could be a lie…!” He mumbled to himself.
He couldn’t sleep last night, nor the night before. In fact, he’d struggled all week. Laying awake, thinking about what he’d seen. 
A small child.
A shriek.
A black spike, jutting out in perfect harmony with his cries. 
A glowing stripe of hair.
It. 
The moonstone. 
Everything he’d ever known, every clue, every trace seemed irrelevant. He’d been spending the past half a decade looking for the moonstone. Had he been looking in the wrong place? Has each new spike, each life ruined, not been the work of a sadistic woman, but rather a scared child? It seemed preposterous, he didn’t steal the moonstone, after all.
No. He knows who did. 
Ulla had been… well, not nice, never nice. Accepting, maybe. Calm. Apparently her old partner ditched her to raise a family, so she’d latched onto Quirin after saving him from bandits (he didn’t need saving, thank you!) . As a man constantly on the move, he’d made no complaints. Company was very much needed on the journey he was on. 
It was hard to figure out where the rocks were headed, back then. They’d seemed aimless, forever wandering in search of the missing sundrop. It’s why King Frederick sought him out, after all. If the rocks pointed to the sundrop, where he’d find the sundrop, he’d find the princess. 
Alas, that trail ended cold, but all’s well that ends well for the King, at least? 
Ulla, curious, scientific, genius Ulla, she’d begged to see his homeland. His family. The place from which the rocks originated. And while Quirin had been loathe, the longer they traveled, the harder he found it to say no. She was cunning, and quick, and all the things Quirin wasn’t. Opposites attract, so they say.
But that also meant she wasn’t loyal. 
The day she’d betrayed him was the worst day of his life. 
He had let her in, shown her his legacy, his purpose, his destiny. And then Ulla had stolen it. She’d reached out and grasped the stone with a hunger Quirin had never seen. A bright light consumed her, blinding him, and when it vanished, the stone vanished too. 
Ulla had been just as confused as he, but the rocks began to sprout at her feet. When she ran, she left a trail of rocks in her wake. Enraged and humiliated, Quirin had no choice but to follow. He saw the trail of destruction, the despair she left in her wake. 
But then she had vanished. The rocks stopped sprouting at her feet. They only appeared sporadically, causing problems in isolated villages, one after another. By the time Quirin arrived to investigate, she was long gone. 
Until now. 
Now, he had a lead. A lead that wasn’t her. But… if it was correct… and this child truly possessed the moonstone…
Could he do what needed to be done? 
-
The next day came, and Varian was ready. 
He’d spent the whole night preparing, thinking sad thoughts, scary thoughts, every instance he could remember where a rock had bothered him. His mood was in the drain, and he was fully prepared. 
“Last chance, bluebird, you know I love you, we can call this off!” Eugene said when he came to dress Varian for the day. 
“Death before dishonor!” 
“Where did you even learn- never mind. Sure, fine, Rapunzel is waiting.” 
From around the corner, Cass snickered. She’d come to watch, eager to see the two sweetest souls engage in mortal combat. And also mess with Eugene.
Mostly the latter. 
“If you need a weapon, Varian, I got a few knives you can borrow!” She offered as the three made their way to the battlefield. Eugene’s ghostly pale face resembled that of paper with its waxy, white sheen. It was amazing. Before Varian, she’d only seen Eugene this stressed when he had a bad hair day. Now, his hair seemed like the least of his worries. Not when he has a feral child to keep alive. 
“No knives, please and thank you, I would like to live.” He moaned. 
Cassandra’s grin only grew. “Are you even alive right now? They say the old self dies with fatherhood.” 
“No one says that.”
“They could.”
He swatted her away, grumbling. But Varian paid them no heed. His mind was focused on only one thing: victory. By any means necessary. 
The three of them finally made it out into the courtyard. Snow still covered every surface, bathing the world in a glittery white. Rapunzel stood in a warm dress, not wearing shoes, but rather a pair of fuzzy socks. Cassandra wouldn’t let her outside with at least some warmth. She hadn’t bothered to put her hair up for the day, either. 
“You still wanna do this, little man?” She teased, hands on her hips. Eugene sent her a glare. 
“No one loves Eugene more than I do!” Varian declared, letting go of Eugene’s hand and marching forward.
Rapunzel was unfazed. “Really? I changed my whole life for him, remember?” 
Eugene had told him how he and Rapunzel met the other day. Well, most of it. Something told him Varian would not take too kindly to Eugene dying. Or the bit about a cruel mother. Maybe save those for when Varian’s older. 
“So did I!” Varian yelled. They began to circle, a delicate dance. Prey and predator. Friend and foe. 
“He offered you a new life. I convinced him to give it to me.” From the sidelines, Cassandra gasped. “Ooooh, you gonna take that, Varian?” she cried. 
“No!” He answered, and charged at the princess. A blur of yellow engulfed his vision, and like a fly in a trap, he was ensnared, swallowed by a mound of hair. 
With a pull, Rapunzel pulled him close. Grabbed him. And moved her fingers across his sides.
“Noooooo!” He squeaked, trying to wiggle out of her hair, but it was no use! She had him in place, right where she wanted. 
“Surrender!” She cried, tickling his sides. 
“N-neeeever!!” His lip wobbled, and little tears formed. Oh no, did she go too far? It was just supposed to be a little teasing! Rapunzel faltered. 
Just as he’d expected. 
He summoned all the anger built up in him. There would only be one shot at this, after all. He let out the telltale scream of an upset child.
Sure enough, the rocks heard his call. 
They spiralled out from his spot, jutting out in all directions. Rapunzel dropped him with a gasp, narrowly avoiding getting pierced. Her hair floated up, swirling in the sky like clouds that covered her sun, in tandem with Varian’s own hair lighting up and floating. The whole yard reeked of magic.
Everything went still. No one dared move a muscle. Then, like a breath being held, it all deflated. The rocks shrunk down beneath the surface again, and all hair dropped. 
Eugene stood in shock, frozen in place. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Sneaking a glance at Cassandra told him she was just as bewildered. 
Varian opened his eyes. That… that worked…? It worked! He let out a victorious laugh. In your face, momma! No more electric chair for him! All he needed to do was think sad thoughts!
“I did it!” he crowed, jumping up and down. Thrilled, he threw himself at Eugene, happily burrowing himself into his dad’s arms. All that love, all for him!
“Well, you certainly did… something…” Eugene muttered, still dumbstruck. The adults all shared nervous glances. What on earth just happened? 
Quirin stood on the balcony, gripping its railings with white knuckles. It was the only thing keeping him from collapsing. 
67 notes · View notes
areiton · 3 years
Text
a bright pure pain - stevetony fic
I wrote a short fic set in the Tattoo AU created by @pineapplebread​! 
Read on AO3 
~*~ 
It’s Bucky, who starts it. 
Bucky who lies in bed with Sam, and traces his fingers over the black lettering, and Sam watches him, dark eyes calm and warm and when Bucky murmurs against his throat, “Tell me,” Sam did, spun out stories about the man he loved, before the sky exploded and tore him away. 
Riley came first, and maybe, truthfully, Riley is the one who starts it. 
~*~ 
Sometimes, when they’re out, Bucky will reach out, his fingers brushing over the plane of Sam’s stomach, over the smooth stretch of skin where he knows Riley’s name sits. Sam goes still, always, when it happens, his gaze tracking his boyfriend. 
It happens often enough that Tony notices, because Tony notices everything, tracks the metal hand on Sam’s ribs, the way that Sam’s gaze ticks to Bucky, his smile a little sad. 
“What is it?” he asks, and Sam shrugs. 
“Tattoo. I got it right after I got out,” he says, easy, like he isn’t baring a part of himself, squishy and vulnerable, to Tony’s curious gaze. 
Tony nods, and turns the conversation to the mission Bucky and Sam had gone one, almost tactful in giving Sam space. 
It’s progress.
~*~  
Steve is quiet, after they’re gone, but it’s not the tense kind of quiet that makes Tony anxious, it’s--quiet, comfortable, pensive almost. He watches Steve from across the room as he makes dinner, his eyes distant, like he’s lost in memories. 
It’s still strange that they’re here, together. After--
After everything. The war and Thanos and the long empty years when he clung to bitterness and anger because it was so much easier than admitting what he wanted. After the last gasp of hope, and the months spent trapped together in the past, and that battle when Steve had knelt next to him and he lay dying--
After thinking, it wouldn’t be so bad, to die, if Steve was next to him when he did. 
Well. 
He pushes that thought aside because they’re friends now, finally, pieced themselves back together, and it was the idiotic thought of a dying man, not the rational one sitting in his living room, on his way back to healthy and whole. 
Tony makes a face, feels the scars pull. Not whole. He’d never be whole again. 
“Hey,” Steve says, soft, tugging his attention from the spiral and Tony blinks up at him. “You went away,” Steve says, and Tony flushes. He shifts a little, his legs folded under him as Steve sits down next to him and passes him a bowl of chicken chowder. It’s thick, hearty. There’s a heel of bread, oven warm and garlicky, from the bakery down in Queens that Peter knows he likes. 
He wants, more than he’s wanted anything in a long time, a cheeseburger. 
“Hey, Steve?” he says, and Steve flicks a look at him, curious and patient, and Tony almost bites back the words. 
Steve made dinner. 
They should eat it. 
“Wanna go get a burger with me?” he asks, instead, and a smile, small and real, spreads across his lips. 
~*~ 
They don’t go out often. The public adoration since the battle had been--disconcerting. 
Tony was used to being watched, to being adored. What he wasn’t used to was the fervent outpouring of gratitude that so easily tipped toward almost cult-like. 
“People need to thank someone,” Rhodey said, the one time Tony brought it up. “We’re keeping an eye on the extremists.” 
It’s enough to keep him in the Tower. If it wasn’t, the empty space at his right, the scars snaking up and over his face, shoulder and ribs--they were enough. 
His hand trembles a little, as they reach the garage, and Steve catches his hip, guides him forward until they’re standing by his old bike, the one that Tony is a little surprised to see still running. “Steve. I can’t,” he says, helpless, and Steve smiles, softly. 
“Gotta trust me, Tony,” Steve says, patient and hopeful, holding two helmets and waiting. 
He always waited , let Tony make that last step. 
“I’ll fall,” he says, the fear bright and bitter in his throat. 
“I’ll catch you,” Steve promises. 
Tony can feel this--the heat of tears in his eyes, the burning warmth of Steve’s steady gaze, the way everything settles as that easy promise settles over him with the weight of a vow. 
He nods, a jerky thing, and Steve’s smile blooms, bright as sunshine. 
~*~ 
He rides cradles against Steve’s broad chest, and it’s dangerous, he knows it is. 
Everything about their lives are dangerous, though, and this--here--the only way to hurt him, is to go through Steve, and Tony thinks Steve would rip the universe apart, to keep that from happening. 
He closes his eyes, presses back against the steady strength of him, and Steve leans into him, solid and grounding as the city whips by. 
~*~ 
Steve takes them to a greasy dinner in Brooklyn, where an old waitress named Delores delivers  messy cheeseburgers, enormous plates of fries, and a thick chocolate shake. 
It’s everything he’s been craving for months. 
Steve ignores him while he works his way through his own cheeseburger, doesn’t offer to help when Tony grapples with holding it. 
He quit offering to help after the first two months, when they got into a screaming match and Tony hid in his bedroom for three days. Sometimes, Tony was pretty sure he could see the want in his eyes, could see his fingers twitch towards helping before he forced himself still, a strained smile on his lips, but it happened less and less, and he almost didn’t mind, these days. 
Steve didn’t offer to help because he thought Tony needed it--he offered because he did. 
“Cut it in half for me,” he says, and Steve smirks, reaches over and neatly divides the burger while Tony picks at the fries. 
“Did you know?” 
Steve arches an eyebrow at him, and Tony hides his smile behind half his burger. “About Flybird’s ink?” 
Steve chews, his eyes distant and restless, but eventually swallows and says, “No. I--I kinda suspected, but there’s just some things you don’t ask about.” 
They’re quiet, lost in thought and food and Tony’s considering the second half of his burger when Steve blurts out, “I had a tattoo. For Bucky.” 
Tony goes still, eyes wide and searching. They hadn’t--the one night they’d spent together, when fighting gave way to fucking in Clint’s cramped guestroom, it had been dark. He might have missed a tattoo, then--and he hadn’t seen Steve naked even when they were trapped in the past looking for that goddamn stone, but he’d seen enough and if it was any more intimate, he might need to re-evaluate everything he’d been thinking, recently, everything he quit thinking, after they left the farm and Tony left the team, and Steve did. 
He blinks the thoughts away, focuses on Steve.  
“It--after he fell, one of the Howlies did one for me. Just a nautical star--but it was mine, it was for him and it was,” Steve huffs, smiles a bitter little thing that Tony hates . “It felt like my body, for the first time since Rebirth.” 
“What happened?” he asks, a whisper almost lost in the kitchen clatter of the empty diner. 
“Serum happened,” Steve shrugged. “Body pushed it out. I kept redoing it--poor Jones got real tired of me showing up at his tent--but it never took. I had it, when I went into the ice.” 
Not when he came out. SHIELD would have recorded that. A question burns in his throat, but Steve--Steve’s pushing himself out of the booth, muttering about the bathroom, and Tony swallows the question with the last of his milkshake. 
He doesn’t need to ask, anyway. Why Steve didn’t try again doesn’t matter, not really. 
~*~ 
It’s been seven months, since Thanos, since using that fucking gauntlet that almost killed him, that took his arm and changed his world, and didn’t change a goddamn thing, either. 
Seven months, since he spent any time in his workshop. 
“Hey, Steve,” he says, and Steve looks at him over the top of his paper because he’s a fucking luddite and still reads a paper, just to fuck with Tony. 
His heart is pounding and he wants to wave it off, wants to hide from that expectant stare and the curve of his lips, and the burning itch in the back of his mind that he’s missed for seven goddamn months . 
“I’m gonna go down to the workshop after breakfast,” he says, and Steve smiles, slow and pleased and Tony--Tony grins back, helpless to do anything else. 
 ~*~
It’s Bucky, who starts it, so it makes sense, to drag him back into it. 
“Stevie says you’ve been down here for most of a week.” 
“Yeah,” he taps his fingers nervously, and then straightens up. “I was working on a late birthday present for Steve.” 
“Not sure I wanna know any more about what you’re cooking up if it’s from your shop.” Bucky drawls, and Tony flushes.  
“I’m not making sex toys,” he says, waspish and Bucky grins. 
“His loss,” he says. 
“Stop it. That’s--we’re not sleeping together.” 
Bucky huffs, his expression all irritated exasperation, but he lets it drop. 
They aren’t sleeping together. 
Tony knows there’s something between them, something building that’s been there for so long he can’t remember when it wasn’t. 
It’s different from that night on the farm. 
It’s different even from the months in the past, when they didn’t sleep together, but everything else was stripped away and they were forced together. 
It’s different because Steve stayed, when no one else did. When the world dragged Rhodey back into its damage control, when Pepper quietly voiced what he’d known was coming, when the nightmares and panic attacks and pain pushed Happy and the kid away--Steve stayed. 
And they came back--Rhodey and Peter, Happy and even Pepper, although that was still--difficult. 
But Steve stayed, the kind of stubborn irritating persistence that used to make Tony hate him. 
Except he didn’t. Not really. 
But Steve didn’t push. Not even on the nights when he slept in Tony’s bed, shivering in the clutches of his own nightmares. 
“We’ll get where we’re going,” he says, softly, and then reaches for the vial of inky dark liquid. “Did you know the serum won’t let a tattoo take?” 
Bucky arches an eyebrow, studying it and then flicking a look at Tony. 
“You fixed that, didn’t ya?” 
Tony grins, and shakes the bottle enticingly. “Wanna be my test subject?” 
~*~
He comes back, a week later, Sam in tow for another meeting about the Avengers, and Tony arches his eyebrows, all curious and hopeful and he nods. There’s something peaceful and very very tired about his gaze, that worries Tony, and Sam stays close to him, almost cuddling him at the damn table. “It works,” he says, shortly, and Tony almost asks, what he got. 
That wounded exhaustion and Sam’s warning look keeps his mouth shut for a moment, but then, “Are you ok?” 
Bucky laughs, and it’s wet and wounded and hurts. 
But it’s happy, too, a kind of bright purity that comes from the good clean pain of healing. Tony has spent months loathing and learning that pain. 
“I’m ok, Stark. I’m gonna be ok.” 
~*~
“Would you get one, again? If you could make it stick, this time. Would you get another tattoo?” 
Steve looks at him. They’re in Tony’s bathroom, brushing their teeth. His hands smell of the scar cream he rubs into Tony’s shoulder and side, twice a day, and there’s a smear of it on Tony’s cheek, near his hair, and Steve reaches out, thumbs it aside and smears the excess onto his faded pants. 
Tony makes a face. 
Steve spits into the sink, rinses and straightens and Tony is still staring at him, eyes hopeful and impatient, familiar in a face that is still sometimes unfamiliar, and he nods. “The tattoo--it helped me feel like this was actually my body, not something I was shoved into, that was eating up Steve Rogers. It was Steve Rogers. It was a choice I made.” 
Tony nods, and something clears in his eyes. He hipchecks Steve lightly aside, spits and rinses, before he straightens and says. “I have something for you.” 
~*~ 
The vial of ink sits in his palm, a tiny liquid promise, and Tony watches him, with big dark eyes, small against the sea of pillows and broad bed, and Steve loves him. 
Loves him so much it hurts, sometimes. 
Loving Tony has been the best, sweetest pain he’s ever known. 
“Sweetheart,” he breathes. 
“We’re still working on it. On color. But. It’s--I want you to have this. You deserve to have this. Bucky tested it, and his body hasn’t rejected it, so--” Tony takes a breath. Smiles, small and brittle and Steve remembers him, before, larger than life with his grand gesture presents, with tech and suits and weapons and homes. 
This--a tiny vial of ink. 
It’s the sweetest thing Tony’s ever done for him, in a decade of gifts and sacrifice. 
He leans over, brushes his lips against his cheek, the scars unfamiliar and somehow soft under his lips, and breathes, “Thank you, sweetheart.” 
8 notes · View notes
thewatermelloncat · 4 years
Text
Blank Canvas
Summary: Five struggles to deal with life in a timeline that he doesn’t think he belongs in. Not wanting to confide in his siblings enjoying their newfound lives, he turns to self-destructive methods.
Warnings: Self harm
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Five was low. Last night he’d slept in his cupboard, the small space enveloping protectively around him. Anything just to make the world around him feel smaller. The wooden floor didn’t bother him, instead it felt familiar after spending nights upon nights on the ground in the apocalypse. The increased darkness didn’t bother him either, it made him feel like he was somewhere else. Somewhere far away, where for the moment nothing mattered, that nothing needed to matter.
The strange thing about it all was that he could spend nights like that then go down stairs to his siblings in the morning like nothing unusual happened. And he wanted to keep it that way. They were so happy having their old lives back in their rightful timeline. Who was he to disturb them with the fact that he felt like he wasn’t supposed to be there?
He wasn’t there the first time the timeline rolled around this point. He was out of place, like a game piece put back in the wrong set. Matching some of the other pieces but not meant to be there all the same.
But he couldn’t tell them how he felt about any of it, that would involve a lot of explaining and sharing of things he didn’t want his siblings to know. Both things that he couldn’t be bothered with. And deep down he knew that in the end he was the only person who would understand what he was going through. So, he shut it all in on himself and threw away the key.
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He’d been fundamentally invisible all day, going down in the morning for breakfast before retreating to his room where he stared at the walls for hours on end. Though it was doubtful that anyone else noticed, they all had their own stuff to do, and he was sure no one was keeping tabs on him.
Eventually he’d fallen asleep and woke up curled sideways on his bed, shaking. He didn’t have the powers of Klaus to see the dead, but he knew the spirits of the people he killed followed him everywhere. Plaguing him in his sleep even through to the moments when he is awake. Somehow, they never leave his mind.
He knows his job had never been personal and it was what he had to do to get beck to his family, but the memories of killing stayed with him. For the most part the people deserved to die, but the owners of the flower cart and the child minding their own business playing in the park were exceptions. They stuck with him.
The people who screamed and begged for mercy before the life in their eyes faded out stuck with him. After returning from an assignment he would often hear agents bragging about how long they tortured their targets before their bodies gave out, how loudly they screamed, how they pleaded with them. Five always left the room. He may have been the best in the business, but he was the one who hated it the most.
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He can’t remember when the scars started appearing on his arms. He thinks one day he had gotten low in the apocalypse and it had happened on accident, moving past something that had split his skin. The pain had made him take his mind off of things but it hadn’t lasted.
Delores was always critical when he began to do it intentionally, pleading and trying to reason with him that they would become infected. Sometimes they did, sometimes they didn’t. It didn’t matter either way, the pain was good and there were many more ways he could die quicker than by infection.
It was in his later days in the Commission that he started to stop. He guessed it was the prospect of his final calculations finally settling into place, the fact that he would be able to see his family soon. Or what he refused to admit – that he was becoming acclimatised to the frequent killing of people.
When he’d travelled back through time to his siblings, the scars on his arms rewound leaving blank, smooth skin. A blank canvas. Though the deaths still haunted him, he hadn’t had the time to think about punishing himself with the threat of the apocalypse looming closer and closer. But now with two apocalypses having been averted, he had all the time in the world.
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There is a knife that he keeps in the draw of his desk. He doesn’t really know why but it sits there under a small stack of books. It had been there since he was a child and he’d never had a thought about using it. Though after waking up to the memories of the child in the park, he brings it out.
Sitting on his bed, both his hands resting on his knees, he hesitates. He knows this isn’t logical and he isn’t afraid to admit to himself that he knows it never has been. But part of him wants to indulge in the old pastime. Just to remember what it feels like.
He’s already punished himself for the child in the park and the owners of the flower cart, and looking down at his unmarked arm he debates whether he really wants to do it again. Then he remembers the conference. The blood dripping from his axe and splattering against the walls and his clothes, marking him as their murderer. He hadn’t punished himself for those.
The fading sunlight shining through his window glints off the knife like it’s trying to hypnotise him into doing something stupid, and he gives in bringing the blade against his forearm.
He inhales at the stinging of his skin. He’d forgotten how satisfying it could be to have some of the pain he inflicted on someone else reflected back at him – no doubt to a much smaller scale, but a reminder of it nonetheless.
Looking down he sees the reddening mark standing out in stark contrast to the fair skin on the rest of his arm. Alike to Öga for Öga written in blood on the pale-tiled floor.
He hadn’t punished himself for Elliot’s death. Unlike the others, he hadn’t caused it but he certainly could have prevented it. Bring the knife back to his arm he blames himself for not having been careful enough.
“Shit!” he whispers out a curse as the blade cuts deeper than he intended for it to. Dropping the knife to the floor a small amount of blood splatters off it onto the wood, camouflaging in with the drops from his arm. With is hand now free he clasps it over the cut.
It isn’t too bad, but it is certainly deeper than intended and he knows he will have to patch it up because the bleeding won’t stop on its own. Luckily, he has a few medical supplies around his room and he gets up to grab them from the box in the cupboard, saving him from wondering through the hallways with a reason he doesn’t want to explain.
Back on his bed he lifts up his hand, ignoring the stick of blood, assessing the damage done. He’s had his fair share of injuries and decides that this one doesn’t need stitches. So, he begins by cleaning up the smeared mess around the wound, wiping the blood off his other hand as well.
With a well-aimed throw, the used cloth lands in the rubbish bin next to the desk, as Luther’s voice rings out from behind his door. “Five, dinner!”
Five bites back a curse at the poor timing but is thankful that his brother doesn’t open the door. “Okay, coming” he calls back hoping that his voice sounds even.
Whether it did or not, he’s relieved when he hears the heavy footsteps fading away. Though he still can’t afford to take much time getting down stairs, or it will raise suspicion.
Quickly he pulls a bandage out of the box and hastily wraps it around his wrist in probably the worst job he’s ever done. Though in fairness, he’s never been this short on time and he can redo it later. After tying it off and tucking the end underneath, he stands from his bed and makes his way down to the kitchen.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It’s not long into dinner that he feels the bandage beginning to slip around his wrist. Maybe he should have spared another minute to wrap it more efficiently, but it’s too late now. So, he deals with it, resting his arm on the table and turning his wrist up against gravity. No need to hide it away just yet and raise suspicion.
So, dinner continues, seeming to be going fine until Five realises he can feel the bandage soaking through. Now taking the opportunity he shifts his arm under the table to rest it against his leg. Thankful that the dark fabric of his blazer should hide the worst of the staining if it were to bleed completely through.
No matter how careful he was being, he shouldn’t have gotten complacent as he reached up to put his knife and fork on his plate after he’d finished eating.
“Is that blood?” Vanya’s voice startles him.
Five freezes but doesn’t dare look down to asses the damage. Quickly suppressing any expression that he knows what she is referring to he stares at her blankly.
“Five, show me your hand.”
As a play of deception, he raises his unharmed left hand to her.
“The other one” Vanya demands.
Biting the bullet Five raises his right hand above the table. Quickly flicking it back to front and hiding it back under before she can get much of a look at it. By this time the rest of their siblings have abandoned all other conversation and are staring at them intently. He doesn’t dare look at any of them, he doesn’t want to be there.
“Give me your hand, Five. I know what I saw” Vanya lowers her gaze at him, her voice turning into a warning tone.
“I’m fine” he says through loosely gritted teeth, trying his best to suppress his anger. Knowing it would only raise more suspicion like an animal acting out when cornered.
“If it’s fine you should have no problem letting her have a look at it” Diego says.
Five rolls his eyes. Figures that Diego would say something as predictable as that to try and prove he is smarter than he actually is.
He was hoping that his siblings would drop the conversation at his lack of response, though after a painstaking silence he realises they are willing to keep waiting until he says something. “S’just a stupid mistake” he mumbles.
To be fair, he isn’t lying. He hadn’t meant to cut himself that deep, and it had also been outright and inexplicably stupid.
After glancing once at all of his siblings staring at him with varying looks of concern, none of which he wanted, he was hit by the realisation that not only did he not want to be there, but he couldn’t be there. So, he decided he wouldn’t be. There was no way he could deal with this now.
He hits his fist down on the table as he pushes his chair out, for no other reason than as a warning for them all to back off, before making for the door.
“Five, it’s okay. Accidents happen” Luther’s voice calls out to him and he wonders why he didn’t just blink out to avoid this situation.
Nonetheless, the words stop him in his tracks and he swallows convulsively.
“It wasn’t an accident” Klaus says weakly as he realises. Staring at Five with more understanding than sympathy.
“Oh my God!” Allison gasps as it all clicks for her. Clasping a hand to her mouth and pushing her chair away from the table in shock. She’d known Five had been through a lot but somehow it had never crossed her mind that he would use self-harm as an outlet.
“Five?” Luther’s voice sounds strained. “Talk to us.”
Something in Five shifts and he realises that no matter what he does or says now his siblings will look at him differently. His time for keeping secrets is over. They will no longer sit by not being able to understand him, to not know what he had gone through.
For once in his life he wishes he could act like the thirteen-year-old that he looks like, to be able to storm out of the room and hide away. But he isn’t thirteen and he knows he owes his family an explanation.
“I can’t have this conversation now” he begins, “and I’m going to be honest and say that it’s because I don’t know what to tell you because I never planned to have it.”
He swallows deeply as the cracks in his armour open.
“But I understand that there are things that you want to know which I have been keeping from you, and in time I will let you know them. I just can’t tell them all to you at once.”
For a long time Five stands in uncomfortable silence, feeling all eyes on him and a trail of blood running down his hand, curling between his fingers to drop on the floor.
None of his siblings know what to say. Never having heard him be so honest, they don’t know how far they can push him. Somehow, they know that there is really only one thing that they can bring up without Five changing his mind and disappearing.
“How long?” Allison asks smally once she finds her voice again. Her eyes not leaving the slow trail of blood tracing down Five’s hand.
“I don’t know” Five begins, his voice sounding tight with his whole mind telling him not to speak. “Sometime in the apocalypse, I guess. On accident.”
Clear that his brother won’t elaborate any further Luther shifts in his chair before asking the most obvious question in the book. “Why?”
Five sighs shakily, closing his eyes.
There are so many reasons why, but then again is there a reason at all? Does something justify marking your body in such a way if everything is temporary? There are so many answers.
Five can’t pick one and his body turns to leave before his loyalty to his family commands him to stay and he reluctantly turns back.
His siblings can see that the conversation is hard for him, and they shift uncomfortably in their seats wanting more than anything to bring him over to them. Though they know if they move toward him, they’ll spook him and he’ll disappear.
“I take it back, that was badly worded” Luther backtracks before rephrasing. “What makes you think about doing it?”
Five feels a shiver run down his body. Regardless of his family already knowing about his stint as an assassin, he doesn’t want to explain it in more detail just yet and he shakes his head.
“Okay” Luther nods to him. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain now.”
Five’s shoulders relax a little and he shifts further around to face his siblings directly.
“How often?” Vanya asks, her voice small like she doesn’t want to know the answer.
“I can’t remember… but I stopped nearing the end of my time at the Commission. This is the first time in a while” Five’s siblings seem to relax slightly as he is able to give them more of a detailed answer.
“What can we do?” Allison leans forward in her chair and for a second Five is scared that she’s going to move toward him.
“Nothing” he says. It should have been expected that they would all look at him with varying levels of disparity, but it still irritates him. “Look, I know it’s stupid and I know I shouldn’t do it! But it’s not as simple as that” Five lowers his voice in a sigh, his arms tensing then relaxing at his sides.
“No one said it was simple, buddy” Klaus murmurs quietly.
“I thought I was over it” Five’s voice cracks as a single tear rolls down his cheek and he immediately brushes it away. He sniffs frustratedly as he drops his hand, looking away from everyone. “And I never meant to go that deep… like I said, it was a stupid mistake.”
There is a long silence but this time it isn’t painful. It’s clear that Five isn’t able to handle more interrogation so they decide to shelve it for another day.
“Do you want one of us to have a look at it?” Allison asks.
Five shakes his head.
“But if you said it went deeper than” – Five cuts her off.
“It’s fine, it doesn’t need stitches.”
“Okay” she says quietly as she gives in.
Sensing the conversation drawing to a close Five shuffles impatiently on his feet.
“Just – Five” Vanya calls out to him before he can disappear, breathing out a sigh of relief when he stays. “If you ever get low like that, can you promise that you’ll come to one of us instead.”
Her words take on a tone of pleading and he knows the sentiment is reflected on behalf of everyone. He swallows thickly and looks away, unable to meet their eyes as he tells them, “I can’t.”
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neo-culture-mafia · 4 years
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그림자
last chapter
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"'sup bitches." Hyuck called, walking in the front door with groceries in hand.
"Duckie, I have told you 9 separate times to not greet like that." I spun around in the swivel chair, "it's rude." I reasoned and he took his sunglasses off his face, holding them in the same hand as his motorcycle keys. "Whoops?...I guess." He chuckled, strutting over to where I sat at the living room desk.
I turned back around to look at the paperwork spanning across the wood surface. "What's this, sunflower?" He asked grabbing the first paper he could grab. He flicked his brown curls from his vision to have a good look at what was taking place in black ink.
"Money flipping?" He asked me, with a cocked eyebrow and an unamused look. "Yep. Just for a little while," I winked and snatched the paper back. I sighed, setting it back down on the desk, "just until we have enough for an apartment in the city."
He groaned and walked down the hall to the kitchen. "We have everything we need here." He called as I knew he was emptying the contents of the grocery bags into the respectful places they belonged.
I leaned my arm on the desk, laying my head in my hand and staring at the Polaroids above the desk. Some were of us: me, Mark and Hyuck, and some of the rest of the boys...now just a distant memory is what they felt like.
483 days...483 days since we last saw each other. On that damn night. That dreadful night that me and Mark were turned away and shunned like we were dogs.
Then we traveled back to Seoul to find Duckie. After he was missing for 3 weeks, I ran into him by chance in an alley. We actually had gotten in a first fight till his hood fell back and I was met with the melanin enriched skin that made my eyes weep.
I told him to leave, go back, that he was welcomed there. But, he didn't want to leave me or Mark. We lived in the shit shack eating nothing but crackers and water for a couple months, sometimes we opted for sleep as our daily meal.
Until Mark came home with money. He had gotten that damn tunnel door open by the grace of a higher-being: filled with cash to the brim.
Us 3 bought a 2 bedroom farm house in the somewhat country where we were best friends with our retired neighbors; their thoughts and whispers of us being in a 3-way relationship being the talk of the small farming town. We didn't care. We knew what we were doing here and what we needed to do in the future.
"Oh honey. I'm home." Donghyuck called through the house and a door opened to a wet Mark who was towel drying his hair in nothing but sweatpants. "Did you get me the stuff?" He asked all serious, and I looked down the dim hallway to see Mark's blonde hair being tossled by his towel.
Hyuck gave him a flat face, a hand on his hip and another holding him up on the counter. "Yes, Mark. I got you your 'stuff'." He rolled his eyes, going away and returning with a big ass watermelon.
"Yesss," Mark took it and automatically held it to his ear, knocking on it like it was a heavy wood door. "you picked a good one." Mark looked lovingly at the fruit in his arms as if it was a child.
I laughed as I looked at my wacky friend. "Why can't you be obsessed with something usual. Like beer, or poker."
The curly headed boy asked as he walked back down the hall towards me. Taking his thick jacket off and throwing it over the arm of the couch; sitting down he unlaced and unzipped his boots, throwing them by the door.
You watched the conversation play out like a terrible teen-sitcom. "Cause I'd rather die by watermelon overdose than alcohol intoxication-" Mark was cut off as he walked slowly to the front room where Hyuck and I sat. "Yeah yeah yeah. Too many big words for this early in the morning." Hyuck put his arm over his eyes and laid back.
Mark looked at me and we both looked at the clock. "Sweetie, its 3 in the afternoon." I giggled and he whined. "It's so early." He said and stood up.
"I'm getting changed and I'm gonna chill." He said looking at Mark who still clutched his watermelon to his bare chest, damp towel thrown over his shoulder.
"And?" Mark asked. "Why do I care?" He asked and the younger boy just shrugged. "Also...your night for dinner." Mark reminded him and Hyuck whined louder, running down the hall and smacking into our bedroom door.
"Donghyuck!" I jumped up, wanting to check if he was okay. He just kept on whining as he opened our door and went in, closing it.
You could still hear his shrieks as he was probably running around getting changed into comfier clothes.
"Then there were two." Mark sighed as he set his watermelon on the kitchen window, and plopping onto the long couch on the opposite side of the living room.
"I need to redo your hair soon." I said getting up and laying on the ground next to his couch. "I might let it grow up to a ponytail." I sat up quickly. "Uh. No you're not." My voice was harsh and he laughed.
"Girl you need to chill. I was joking." He chuckled, stretching and yawning.
Something that Jaemin used to say to me atleast once an hour. My smile faltered and I became more solemn.
"Do you miss them?" I asked and he just stared at me for a moment. "Who?" Was all he said and I knew that he knew exactly who he was talking about but it still hurt a little bit.
"Your boys." I said and a faint smile was broadcasted over his facial features as he stared into what seemed like distant space but was really just the dark TV.
"Of course." He exasperated and he looked back at my face who was just searching for reassurance that this path was the right one to take.
"But I am so thankful for the two of you, right here, right now." He smiled and my heart was put at ease.
"Alright I'm back. I sensed you guys missed me so I returned. Just for you guys!" Hyuck said as he sat down next to me and leaned back on his arms for support. "Oh yeah. 'Cause we were literally dying without your presence." I said sarcastically and he shrugged.
"Exactly. That's what I just said." He said as serious as possible and me and Mark laughed. "Oh you think you're so funny." Donghyuck said picking me up and pulling me on his lap, his hands reaching for my sides and tickling.
My shrieks and laughs radiated through the house as Mark watched on in admiration. He felt blessed that he made it this far. He also never failed to tell us atleast once a week. We were all each other's life and support systems.
Once hyuck stopped his evil act, I just laid there across his lap trying to resteady my breath.
"What's for dinner?" I looked up at him and he shrugged. "I haven't really looked to be completely honest." He said yawning.
"Well let's go see and then we can make it, eat, clean, and then chill for a while." I said getting up and putting my hand out for him to take.
He groaned but obliged at my request.
He was in some shorts and a basic hoodie. The scarring on his legs reminding us all of a dark period. A painful time that sometimes still follows us.
I have a scar on my back from that night. I don't remember anything of the tunnels but the burning pain in my calves, wanting to stop sprinting through the dark and lonely concrete jungle.
Him and I stood infront of the cupboards in silence.
I suddenly felt so tired and out of it. Like a heavy weight was on my chest and it wouldn't budge.
"Oooo. Spaghetti." He said stretching and reaching the noodles and sauce on the top shelf. I shrugged as he looked at me for my reaction to his suggestion.
"You okay?" He asked and I could only shrug and try to give a convincing smile.
"Yeah. Just thinking about stuff." I shrugged once more and he understood.
"Can you help me with dinner?" He asked and of course I agreed, wanting to get my mind off the looming darkness in the corners of the house.
"Alright. We need 2 pots and then you can figure out some sides we can have with it." He said and I was already grabbing the 2 pots.
I set them on the stove top and he began doing his own thing. I rummaged through the cabinets and fridge before feasting my eyes on what seemed like the perfect pairing.
"Salad?"
~~~~~~~~~
Trying to sleep that night was rough. It was just tough and not even the usual cuddly nature of the sleeping Hyuck next to me could lull me into dream land.
The dark feeling still followed me through dinner and to bed.
I tried staring at the wall but even then the small cracks started freaking me out. I turned towards Hyuck who's curly dark hair framed his face perfectly.
Don't get us wrong. We're not a thing. We're just close. Once we found each other again he has stuck to my side in hopes of fulfilling what he thought he didn't in the first place- protection.
I don't mind. We've always been close and now we've just gotten closer. Was sharing a bedroom in our plans?...no...but we didn't want to put up with Mark and his farting so he was blessed with having his own room.
We're just making do with what we have.
My finger lightly traced shapes on his arm tattoos, trying to pass time and get myself to sleep.
I groaned and his eyes opened. "What's wrong?" He asked looking at the alarm clock on the bedside table.
3:29 AM
He turned back to make sure I was okay. He sat up on his arm and just looked at me for a moment. "Are you hurt?" Was all he asked and I shook my head no. I wouldn't know how to explain the hurt I was feeling anyway.
"I just need water." I said getting up and crawling to the end of the bed. "Be back in 5 minutes please." He said grabbing his phone. I mumbled my recognition and opened our door.
I strided down the hall and grabbed a water bottle. I walked into the hall where the corridor meets living room. Hyuck's phone lit one end of the hall in our bedroom while the other was illuminated by the moon light.
1 sip.
I breathed and looked out the front window at the old couples house across from ours.
2 sips.
I can hear my heart beat as I try to drown it out with gulps of water.
3 sips.
I have a sudden urge to sprint up and down our street to try and rid the shakiness of my body.
4 sips.
I'm not even cold but my anxiety makes my bones sound like wooden spoons and my body go cold with shivers.
And that's when I see it.
The shadow.
It moved on the front porch.
"I'm going crazy." I spoke in a monotone.
"What?" I heard Hyuck call out, now sitting up in the bed.
The shadow came closer to the door, an arm raised, as if it was going to bash in the glass.
"That's not real." I said louder, my water bottle now dropped from my cold hand.
I heard a thud and a swear along with an opening door.
"Mark. Up, now." And a pair of feet come closer down the dark hallway.
The shadow just seemed frozen now as Hyuck stood right by me.
"What is that?" He muttered and Mark now was coming closer, trying to see tiredly through his glasses.
The arm went back and forth a couple of times. "Hyuck go get your gun." Mark said lowly but I wanted to fight this thing head on.
I walked straight to the door before any of their hands could grab me. I threw the door open as my heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest.
I was met with bleached blonde hair, a blood splattered face, a cold stare, and a muscly build that held ink and a face of an old someone I used to know.
"Jeno?" I choked out, wanting to vomit as my body went numb from shock. This wasn't real. I was dreaming. This wasn't happening.
I held my hands out towards his face, moving ever so slowly until his own hands held my own.
The boys behind me became silent as I knew one of them held a gun, still on edge for this too good to be true situation.
I threw myself at him and just held onto his muscular frame. His arms held me tight in a grip that I used to miss.
The metallic smell on him made my nose scrunch up in disgust but I was just too wrapped into the moment to care.
My body was yanked back forcefully and I was thrown back into the living room at the feet of a shell shocked Mark who could nothing but stare forward.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I thought Donghyuck was losing it as he cocked his gun and held it at the face of his once brother.
"Duckie what are you doing?" I asked getting up and grabbing at his arm.
Jeno just did nothing but stare down the metal barrel in front of his face, his hands being raised next to his head.
"I did a sweep of the surrounding place and it's sketc-" another body came walking up our porch.
The tall boy still seemed lanky but had glasses this time. His hair was now a lighter brown and it seemed like he had grown another 4 inches in the span of a year.
"Jisung?" I muttered and he was still met another gun barrel.
This time from Mark who had shoved me back again.
"Please don't shoot." Jisung pleaded, scared setting into his features.
"We need help. Please." Jisung begged but Jeno still held his stare with Hyuck.
"Everyone is gone." Jisung pleaded.
"Please." He whispered, his eyes were threatening to spill.
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copias-thrall · 4 years
Text
The Stars Are Fire
One more romp before NYE
⬅️ Previous
New Year’s Eve Eve, and Mary is back at your place. You kind of feel like you need to eat bags of carrots, but he’s pumped, gesticulating wildly as he explains what an honor it is that the main band contacted him and asked him to attend their first debut after being signed.
“I get a plus one, Suey. Please.”
And even though all you’d like to do is lie on the couch and drink water—oh, would carrot juice be the best answer to both your problems?—you agree to beautify yourself and accompany him to this pre-party of sorts at one of the bigger local venues.
The music is loud, and the guitars are screeching. Lights are flashing, and the room is moist with sweat.
Mary is jumping around in the mosh pit, and every now and then you can see his head emerge. You’re on the outer limit, holding the too-soft plastic cup full of piss beer you guys are sharing—you gave up your moshing days after some dude punched you in the ear, which ripped out your tragus; your piecer had said he’s redo it for free … but one look at your ear and he advised against it because of the scar tissue.
The crowd is being particularly frantic to the current song, so you’re surprised when Mary emerges from the hive—he usually loves a good mosh. His neck and bare arms are glistening with sweat, and his t-shirt is sticking to him; his paint runs in streaks down his face, and his forelock is matted to his forehead.
His grin is feral as he yanks the cup from you and begins to chug. The sides dimple, and some of the liquid sloshes down his neck to join the other moisture there. He throws the now-empty cup in the direction of a trash can, and it disappears amongst the bodies.
“Thanks for sharing, asshole,” you quip.
“Oh. My bad—did you want some?” Mary shakes himself like a dog, and the sweat and beer fly off him, splattering you.
“OH MY FUCKING GOD, MARE!” you screech as you try to distance him with a hand to his chest. His grin only widens as he easily buckles your arm at the elbow, and then he’s on you, smearing his hair and face all over you.
You’re laughing as you grip his hair to tug his head away from you, but he just starts growling and nipping at your neck.
“I’m the Mary monster … and I’ve come to eat you!” he rumbles in your ear right before you feel his arms go round your waist—and then you’re being spun in circles. You yelp and wrap your arms around his neck, the two of you bumping into other people who cheer and goodnaturedly bump you back.
He finally sets you down with an Oof, wincing exaggeratedly as he presses his hand to his back.
You slap his shoulder, the smack landing wetly. “Well, that’s your own fucking fault.”
“Yeah, I know. Worth it, though,” he says grinning before he’s leaning down to kiss you. He tastes like beer and sweat and bitter makeup—but that’s just Mary.
You’re just about to deepen the kiss, when he breaks away with a whoop, shouting,
“Fuck, I love this part!”
He grabs your hand, and you jump along with him and the rest of the audience as the myriad disparate voices join together to form the bridge of the song.
“You can go back in the pit, Mare Bear,” you say into his ear as soon as he stops flailing around like a bunch of wet noodles stuck together.
But he just turns and pulls you into his sweat-damp body. His hands slide down your body—shoving your skirt out of the way—to grab handfuls of your leggings-covered ass.
“Mmm, I’d rather bump and grind with you.”
To punctuate his statement, he rubs his crotch into you. You grab him by the belt loops to pull him further into you.
“Uh oh—is it that time again? Do I need to milk my boyfriend before he explodes?”
Mary backs you into the rough, concrete wall, his body a firm line against you as his lips brush yours.
“Are you offering?”
You run your hands up under his shirt, fingers sliding through his sweat.
“How can I resist this?”
He nips at your ear.
“Stay here,” he says as he scampers off.
You lose him as he delves further into the crowd, but you busy yourself with yanking your skirt back down and tugging at your fishnet top until the seams line up correctly (you’re wearing it over a black, patent-leather bra, and Mary nearly derailed the whole evening when he first saw you in it).
He finally reappears, his face open but determined. You don’t have time to question him before he’s grabbing your hand with a firm C’mon and yanking toward the back hall with the bathrooms. You think that that’s where he’s taking you, but he doesn’t even pause when you pass by the lines.
Mary takes you practically to the back door—which has been inconspicuously propped open with a small stone so the smokers can come and go as they please—and hisses at you to keep watch.
Before you can ask for what, he has a set of keys out. He fumbles with the lock of a door you have overlooked initially.
“Mare …” you begin, but are cut off when the door clicks open and he yells Ah-ha! before yanking you into the room.
He quickly slams the door behind you, which leaves you in darkness.
“Uh, there should be …”
You hear him fumbling around for something, so you fish your phone out of your bra and turn on the flashlight app.
“Ah! Good call.” He goes for the table lamp your tiny light has illuminated.
“It’s why you keep me around.”
“And the blow jobs.” He clicks it on with the pull chain.
“And the blow jobs,” you echo.
With the light now on, you see that you’re in a closet of an office—a small desk, a wooden office chair, a file cabinet, and a lost & found box. When you turn back to face Mary, he’s beaming at you. He twirls the key ring around his finger as he advances on you.
“I know a guy.” He reaches out a hand to thumb at your cheekbone. “Only the best fuck locations for my baby doll.”
You smack his hand away, but you’re grinning.
“Kiss me,” you say, and then Mary’s lips are on yours, your tongues tangling as you grip his ass and he runs his hands all over you; one finally settles in between your legs to press in pulses at your clit. He works you up so good that you hadn’t noticed you were rocking him into you by the meat of his butt.
He pulls away from you, eyes dark and predatory; he brings the hand that had been touching you up to his nose to smell and then down to his mouth to taste.
“Fuck. I want you.”
“Get on the chair,” you say. Mary blinks at you, but then hurries to obey. “Take your dick out,” you order as you fumble to divest yourself of your leggings. You’re not wearing underwear, and a sticky line of your slick clings to the crotch before landing against your thigh. Mary’s eyes track it, and he lets out another Fuck as he gives his hard cock a loose stroke.
When you’re good, he holds his cock out in invitation, and you clamber onto the chair. There’s a horrifying moment with the whole thing tips back—you tumbling into Mary with a small cry as his arms fly out to grab anything—before the two of you realize the chair is built to do that. You both let out a relieved laugh, and Mary bitches at you to stop squashing his dick.
He once again steadies it at the base, and you ease the tip inside you. It goes in easy, but you still slide down slowly, reveling in the stretch. Mary moans and grips the armrests. Using his shoulders for leverage, you slide up and down his cock—slowly at first, just to get your bearings. Mary’s hands fly down to grip at your hips; his eyes are already glazed, and his bottom lip is white from how hard he’s biting it.
After a few recalibrations, you start to bounce on his cock in earnest. Every time you slam down into his lap, you try to angle it so his cockhead punches into your G-spot before mashing your clit into his curls. You’re definitely using him, only bouncing and mashing insofar to chase your orgasm.
Mary just lets you—his hands only slightly trying to move you up and down, and his hips only giving shallow thrusts up into you—his tongue practically lolling out of his mouth watching you take your pleasure from him.
He babbles at you. “Yeah, fuck. C’mon, baby. Ride my cock. That’s right—use me. Use my cock. Fuck—look at you all flushed. Cum on me. Can you cum on me?”
One of your hands flies down to play with your clit, but Mary bats it away.
“Keep fucking riding me,” he says before he licks a thumb and then presses at your nub.
You were worked up before you even sat on his dick, and it’s been a simmer ever since. When the pad of his thumb makes contact with your clit, it’s like it unlocks a dam of pleasure. You stutter to a stop to moan and clench around him.
“Fuck, Suey. Don’t stop,” whines Mary.
The need to cum now is imperative, and you start frantically bouncing in his lap—arms wound round his neck—while he lets the motion of your body help to swipe your throbbing clit.
You know how he gets about you crying out his name, so you’re chanting MaryMaryMary as you pant against his cheek. The wood of the chair is hard on your knees, but you keep riding him until you’re oh so close. Your mouth drops open as you feel your impending orgasm—and you’re pretty sure you drool all over him—and you gasp out Uh uh uh uh as you feel yourself hover. That’s when Mary’s thumb goes to town, and you lock up.
You’ve hardly gotten “Oh fuck” out of your mouth, when Mary’s suctions on to yours. Your orgasm is crashing over you in waves—you clenching in pulses around his hard cock—and you’re riding him in languid rocks while you grunt into his mouth. At some point you broke his kiss and your head lolled back, your movements ceasing as Mary started to thrust up into you as you rode the aftershocks.
As you feel the calm wash over you, you’re prepared for Mary to plant his feet and fuck up into you. But instead he stands up—forcing you to yelp as you hastily wrap your legs around him. There’s a bit of fumbling, but eventually your back hits the small square of carpet before Mary starts wailing into you.
His lips smear down your cheek and neck and shoulder as he babbles at you. “You fucking tease. I’m going to fuck the shit out of you. Your cunt is here to please me. I’m gonna fill it up so good, I wanna see my jizz dripping down your legs.”
“I want to feel you empty inside me, wanna feel your cock throbbing.”
His hips are working into you double time when he starts to scream his song of release. You wrap your legs tighter around him and say, “I want your hot cum spilling out of me.”
Mary bites down hard at your shoulder—and you stifle a surprised scream—his cries muffled in your skin as he gives one long, hard thrust, followed by a few staccato jolts. Finished, he lifts himself up on his forearms a bit and rests his head on your sternum as he pants, and you run your hands up and down his moist back.
He finally rolls off you and sprawls on his back, one arm draped over his eyes, the other strewn to the side. When you flop onto his chest, he seems surprised, and both arms come around you��which is why he can’t immediately defend himself when your hand shoots out to stroke his softening cock.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Suey,” he says as he stiffens. “Sensitive,” he whines as his one hand reaches down to remove yours from his cock. You laugh at him as he jerks and gasps until he manages to pry your fist free.
He’s still got your wrist in his grip when you wiggle on top of him and press your face to his.
“But would you let me, though?” you say as your lips touch his. “If I wanted to keep going, would you be a good boy and let me tease you?”
The grip on your wrist tightens and the hand you hadn’t realized had clamped onto your thigh digs in.
“Fuck, Suey,” Mary says in an exhaled breath. “I’d let you do almost anything.”
Biting his bottom lip, you pull it out before letting it go to snap back. “That’s what I like to hear.”
You shift to rise, but one of Mary’s hands sinks into your hair and presses your head down. He kisses you hard, but in a slow, sated way. You grind down into him, rubbing into his chest and his clothes.
“Jesus … again?”
“I’m still horny,” you whine, as you mash into him.
“When are you fucking not horny?”
“Mary …”
“Ok, ok. Christ, you’re greedy. Here—roll over …”
Rolling off him, you lie onto your back; Mary shifts onto his side, his one hand working between your legs to press at your clit.
You grab his wrist to ground yourself. “Yes, Mare.”
You let yourself get lost in the ministrations of his index finger; it circles your sensitive clit before flicking over it. Then it dips down to tap at your hole before stroking up and down between both sweet spots—only to repeat the process.
It’s a great process even if Mary’s being matter of fact about it due to circumstance, and you writhe unabashedly—moaning and grunting—as your next orgasm draws closer. Your pussy pulsates in warning, and you curl a little towards Mary, your hands flying to grip into his shirt as you let out an Ugn, Mary. His finger speeds up, and you feel your eyes roll back. You let out a wet Ffffff right before your walls clench … and then you’re juttering and moaning as you cum to the tempo of Mary tapping at your engorged clit.
Even as you’re slumping and Mary is slowing his motions, he leans down to whisper in your ear.
“You’re so fucking hot. Another?”
And you could—you really could. Mary’s got the fit fingers, and your clit throbs at the suggestion—but you’re very aware that you’re also on the dirty floor in a bustling venue. So you roll into him, mouth half missing his before you suck his tongue down. Mary goes with it, and soon enough you’re once again in his lap. His hands ruck up your top and sneak under your bra to fondle your tits.
“Fuck,” he slurs, “I just wanna get you back to your place and fuck you again.”
You tilt your head back to give him access to your neck.
“Don’t you need to say ‘hi’ to the band or something?”
“Or something,” he mutters into your clavicle. You let him follow the slope of your shoulder, flinching slightly when he makes contact with his bite mark.
“You bit me again,” you grumble, rolling your shoulders.
“Sorry.” His tongue traces the livid red though the fishnet.
“No you’re not.”
“No, I’m not.”
“C’mon,” you say as you squirm on him. “We should go.”
He plants his face into your chest, one hand moving up to rest on your neck.
“Do we have to?”
“Sucks, I know. But we can’t sit here all night with our dicks out. I at least need to pee.”
Mary tilts his head to grin up at you, and you quickly cover his mouth with your hand.
“Mare! Do not.”
When he gives your palm a long, slobbery lick, you just make a sound of disgust and wipe it off on his shirt.
The two of you get up and start to put yourselves back in order. You cast about for your leggings only to find Mary trying to stuff them in his pocket, and you notice that there are sticky wet spots on his jeans.
“Mare. You can’t use my pants as cover up.”
“Cover up?” He squints at you and then follows your line of sight down to his crotch. “Oh. This?” He swipes his index finger through a patch, then rubs it against his thumb before seeming to inspect it. His tongue darts out to lick it off his digits. “Mmm, maybe I’m saving this as a snack for later.”
“Gross, Mary!” You’re 90% sure he did it just to squick you out, but you never know.
He smiles, pleased with himself.
You step toward him, hand outstretched. “Give me my pants!”
He steps away from you. “Nuh-uh.”
“C’mon, Mary!” You reach forward with a grabby hand, but he swipes them out of his pocket and holds them above his head. “What the fuck?!” you gripe.
His eyes dart to your bare, exposed thighs. “Maybe I really do wanna see my jizz trickle down your legs.”
You make a mean lemon face at him, and when he throws his head back to laugh, you playfully punch him in the gut. Still laughing, he doubles over with an Uff, and you take the opportunity to snatch your leggings from his grasp.
“Come on, fuckhead,” you grumble as you ball up the fabric as much as you can in your hands.
The two for you sneak out of the office—only to run into a smoker sneaking back in through the back door. There’s moment when the 3 over you all stare at each in other in a cursed tableau, until Mary says,
“None of us were ever here.”
Smoker glances down at the pants in your hands, smirks, and gives you both a salute before making an “after you” gesture. You break off to wait in the line for the Ladies’ Room, and Mary honks your ass.
“See you on the floor, baby doll.”
You turn to glare at him, but he’s already walking away.
Between waiting in line; cleaning between your legs with moistened, paper hand towels; and cleaning Mary’s make up off the rest of you after you see yourself in the mirror—a few women smirking, a few judging—it takes you a good 30min to get your situation in order. When you get back to the pit, you don’t see Mary anywhere in sight. He’s not on the outskirts either, or at the bar. Texting him would be useless because even if he hadn’t let his phone go dead, he always keeps it on silent.
The only place else you can think of is that he’s made his way into the Green Room. Even though your wrists bands are the same color as everyone else who is of age, you did notice that the bouncer grabbed yours from a different bunch, so you hope maybe you can get backstage without Mary.
You approach the bored-looking bouncer who’s guarding the hall, ready to explain, but he just asks for your wrist in a monotone. You stick out your arm, which he takes in a professional manner so he can twist and turn it; he has a little black light that eventually illuminates an “x” on your wrist band.
Huh.
“All right,” he says, his eyes already off you and back to scanning the room before he even drops your arm.
You can hear the guffawing down the hall, so you just follow the noise. You poke your head around the corner of the doorframe; the room is filled with mostly skinny boys in various states of ripped shirts (if they’re wearing shirts), denim pants, and big hair from teasing or glue. You squint, trying to find Mary like this is a Where’s Waldo? picture.
“Can we help you, sweetheart?” says a voice, and a handful of heads turn your way.
“Mine,” says Mary, and you turn toward his voice. He’s straddling what looks like an amp, or maybe a table shaped like an amp, and holding his arms out to you and making grabby hands. There’s a chorus of “hoorays” as you walk over.
“I told you dudes she was smart.”
He pulls you down onto one leg—and you hope he can feel the cold dampness of your crotch through his rips, because honestly you should both suffer that indignity—and wraps both arms around your middle.
“Why am I smart?” you ask as you turn your head to his and hook your arm over his shoulder.
“They didn’t think you’d find me.”
You lean back into him. “Well, it was either here or you left, and I didn’t think you’d be that stupid.”
There’s a chorus of chuckles and a few shouted insults about Mary’s intelligence, which he graciously meets with his middle finger.
“Can you really know what a wild Goore will do? Seems like a lucky guess.” shouts someone.
“Yeah! He’s pretty feral!” shouts another, which is met with some snickering.
Mary just gives it back in different plays of flipping the bird. You wind your fingers into his greasy, sweaty hair so he has to look at you.
“Mary knows his place.”
You hear someone choke on something and someone else say “Jesus”. Mary’s eyes widen, and you swear that if he had a tail, he'd be wagging it. There’s a bit of nervous laughter before the conversation veers off around the two of you. Mary tilts his head so that he can whisper in your ear.
“Wanna get out of here?”
Grinning, you nod.
Mary takes the leave for the both of you amidst playful chiding and some cat calls. He just drapes his arm around your shoulder.
“What can I say? The lady isn’t wrong.” He gives you a leering once over. “I know exactly where my place is.”
As you roll your eyes at him, the whole corner of the room erupts—with empty soda cans and balled up napkins being thrown at you.
“Get the fuck outta here, Goore!”
Laughing, the two of you hightail it out of the room. Mary immediately pushes you against the wall.
“You’re a fucking menace, you know that?” He leans down to nip at your neck. “I have a reputation to maintain.”
You giggle. “I don’t give a shit.”
There’s groan, and the two of you jump apart.
“Fuck’s sake, Goore—get the hell out of here!”
“All right, all right! We’re leaving.”
***
It’s a cold walk back to your place, Mary shivering despite his leather jacket as his sweat cools.
“Wanna get a slice?” you ask him.
You can always eat pizza, but a little warm up might be good for your dumbass boyfriend and his allergy to wearing his winter coat.
“Yeah, sure. You’re kinda a bitch when you’re hangry. Fuck, ow.”
There's a place on your walk home that makes bank by doing only pizza slices after hours, and if you get there before the 2 o’clock show, there’s even space to sit down. When you and Mary get there, there’s a line to order, but a free table, which Mary hens you to go save while he gets the slices.
He arrives like a conquering hero, smirking as he saunters lazily, plates in hand … until he realizes that the way he’s stacked them has made the cheese of your one plain slice stick to the bottom of his plate.
“Shit, sorry,” he says and he fumbles to scrape it off.
You shake your head in mock disapproval. “You’re fucking useless, you know that?”
“Quiet, you,” he says as he licks the grease from his finger. “I even got you that disgusting trash you like.”
He’s referring to the other slice (Hawaiian) that you’re now blowing on.
“Whatever, salami boy,” you respond as you tilt your chin at his paper plate—now translucent with grease—covered in slices of pepperoni.
He peels off a piece of the meat and flicks it at you; it lands with a splat on the top of one tit, and you make a disgruntled noise at him.
Mary just wiggles his tongue. “Want me to get that for you?”
You only glare at him and put down your slice so that you can peel off the circle, dabbing at the sauce on your top with a napkin. Mary picks up his own to eat—which gives you the opportunity to flick it right back. It hits the lapel of his jacket, and he flails in horror. You smack your hand over your mouth to block your cackle, and shove some napkins over to him.
“Suey,” he whines as he begins to rub at it.
“Wait wait wait—blot, don’t rub!”
Mary just whines again as he begins to dab violently at it. You grab a few napkins and scamper over to the end of the counter where an Asian woman is switching out trays. When she looks up at you, you give her an imploring look.
“Can I get some dish soap?” you ask as you wave the napkins.
She blinks at you and says, “One moment,” before she’s yelling to someone in the back. “Hēi, Zhāng Wēi, nǐ néng zài zhǐ to shàng fàng xiē xǐ wǎn jīng ma?”
A moment later, a man comes out from the back holding a soapy paper towel. The woman points at you, and the exchange is made.
“Thanks!” you chirp as you spin on your heel back to Mary. He’s pouting up at you. You tsk as you half straddle his one leg. “Don’t be a baby, it’s fine.” You blot gently at the small slick of grease, the soap resting in white crests atop the black of his leather as you press.
It takes a few passes with drying in between, but it finally comes out ok.
“There you go, Mare. All better.” You plant a wet kiss on the affected area.
When you move to climb off him, Mary grabs your wrist.
“What about my kiss?”
You scoff at him. “You aren’t the injured party.”
“Not the—it’s my fucking jacket!”
You spin out of his grasp so you can reclaim your seat and eat your pizza.
“And who fired the first shot?”
He exaggerates his pout. “Whatever.”
You listen to him as he waxes poetic about the bands the two of you saw tonight and interject when you can about the attractiveness of the members just get him in a lather. Even while doing most of the talking, Mary eats all 3 of his slices in the time it takes you to finish your two, and then he eats the crusts you leave.
You quirk your eyebrow. “Hungry much?”
He leans back and pats his food baby.
“If I’m gonna fuck your greedy ass all night, I need some fuel.”
“Ok, bot-thario.”
***
As you walk home, Mary grabs your hand and stuffs it into his pocket, interlocking your finger together like you might fly away. He looks up at the sky and huffs out a puff of breath that mists in the air in front of him.
“You ever wish you could see all the stars? Like, some out of the city shit?”
“You mean without the light noise?”
“Yeah. My middle school always took the 7th graders to the Poconos at the end of the year. One night they took us out to a field where we chomped on those lifesavers, you know? The mint ones? They spark in the dark.”
“Wint-o-green?”
He looks over at you. “Yeah. They also had us lay down in the grass and talked about the constellations. I think we were more impressed with being allowed to be up so late … but I do remember thinking that the stars were so bright and so … prolific.”
There’s a moment before you respond.
“We took a yearly camping trip most years. More glamping than anything, but I liked to go exploring and climb up the rocks.” You grin at him. “Always covered in scrapes and dirt.”
“The scandal!”
“It kind of was, though. But we also did our fair share of star gazing, especially if there was a meteor shower.”
Mary bumps you. “Aww, Suey. Did you wish upon a star?” He leans down to your ear. “What did ya wish for?”
You scoff and lean away from him. “Everyone knows you can’t tell or it won’t come true, Goore.”
“Tell meee,” he hisses as he gets closer.
“Stop!” you laugh as you pull your hand free to keep him at bay.
He wraps his arms around you even as you try to squirm free. “Tell me your seeecreets!”
“It won’t come true!” you squeal.
He nips at your ear before giving the shell a lick.
“Well, I’ll tell you one of mine because I’m not fucking stingy.”
Mary slips one hand to rest against your cheek.
“I’ve always kinda wanted to do that again.” He pulls back to look at you. “I mean, maybe not that exactly … but see the stars like that again, yeah?” He searches your face.
“If you say something about my eyes right now, I will spit in your face.”
Mary rolls his eyes and pushes you away from him with a palm to your face and begins to walk on.
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
You catch up with him and shove a hand into his back pocket before giving it a squeeze. “Only sometimes.” You leer up at him.
He looks down at you through slitted eyes.
“Don’t distract me with sex.”
You rub yourself into his side, your other hand traveling down to his crotch.
“You love being distracted with sex.”
Mary suddenly grabs you, and you find yourself pressed against the brick wall of a building. He presses himself into you, a hand winding into your hair to tip your head up so his face can meet yours.
“Yeah, ok. Maybe.”
His other hand fumbles to unhook the first few button toggles on your coat.
"You’ve brought this on yourself, little girl.”
Mary scrambles to get his arms under your thighs, and you wrap your legs around his slight waist and your arms around his corded neck so that he doesn’t drop you. His head comes down to worry at your neck as his pelvis squirms to find a good angle to press in between your legs. He gets a few good ruts into you before you feel his arms begin to tremble.
You’re about to suggest to him that he should put you down when someone across the street whistles. Mary growls, but lets you slide down him. When the two of you turn toward the callout, you see two alternative boys giving the thumbs up. Mary salutes. You lick your middle finger.
They whoop back, and you watch Mary watch them until they’re small on the horizon. When he turns back to you, his gaze is full of intent. He reaches into his pants to adjust himself, then he grabs your wrist.
“Let’s go.”
The causal saunter back to your apartment has turned into a forced march with Mary at the helm. His legs are longer, so you stumble after him until he finally lets go of you—but you still have to do double time to keep up.
When you reach your building, Mary is impatient—his body draped on you and his mouth sucking at your neck as you struggle to unlock the building door. Once inside, you push him away with a laugh before you break out into a run. You have the advantage of a surprise head start, but Mary’s in better shape, and he catches you before you even make it off the second floor landing.
“You’re in so much fucking trouble,” he snarls before he tosses you over his shoulder.
“OH MY GOD, MARE! PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN!”
He just slaps your ass through your coat a few times. You beat ineffectually at his back—cursing—as he totters up the next two flights, but Mary doesn’t put you down.
When he gets to your door, he’s panting. You squirm, but he’s not moved.
“Stop wiggling unless you want me to drop your ass. Gimme your keys.”
Because you’re an asshole, you drop the keys on the floor instead of into his hand. There’s a long pause during which you try to hold in your laughter even as the jiggle of your body gives you away.
“Well played—but don’t think this gets you out of the trouble you’re in.”
He sets you down so that you’re boxed in between him and the door while he squats to grab the keys. You reach down to grab his hair, but he bats your arm out of the way before standing up again.
“Nuh-uh. None of that.”
Mary makes sure to lean into you as he works at getting your door open, so when it does, you go stumbling backwards with an ungainly exclamation. Then you slip on all your mail—envelopes scattering everywhere—and your arms pinwheel for balance. Mary’s arm shoots out to grab at the collar of your coat, steadying you.
“That’s your own fucking fault,” he rumbles as he slams the door behind him. Then he yanks you back into him, pressing his lips hard to yours before giving them a good nibble. You go to lean into him, but makes a sing-song “nuh-uh” sound before pushing you into the wall.
He pins you again with his body.
“Fuck. I want you here, like this. Take your shorts off.”
You love it when Mary’s like this—rabid, savage, all Id—just as much as when he’s whining at your feet, and your heart beats in between your legs in anticipation. Once again, you contort to shimmy out of your leggings. When you’ve got one leg free, Mary’s hands are at you—undoing the rest of your coat toggles and shoving your skirt up around your stomach. His dick is already out, and he yanks up one of your thighs to hip level, his other hand sliding back to grip into the meat of your ass.
“Guide me in,” he half whispers, and you reach down blindly, grasping for his dick. You get the tip into you, and Mary grunts—resting his head against the wall—pushing in the rest of the way. “Fuck. You’re tight like this.”
You moan, your hands scrabbling at the back of his jacket as you clench around him. The grip on your thigh becomes painful, and he begins to thrust into you shallowly.
“So fucking wet too. You wet for my dick, huh? Dripping at the thought of what I was going to do to you?”
“Your fucking cock, Mary. Are you gonna punish me with it? For being such a tease?”
“You’re goddamned right I am.” He lets go of you, his dick slipping out of your pussy as he leans back. “Turn around … and take that coat off.”
You grapple with your coat, trying to shake it off your arms. When you feel Mary grab ahold, you hiss, “Rip my fucking coat and I’ll rip you.”
“Shut up,” he grumbles, but he also gently eases you out of the garment before tossing haphazardly to the side. “Over,” he rasps as he bends you—one hand on your head, the other pressing into your belly—so that your palms are flat against the wall. He kicks your legs together before he’s sliding into you again.
Hands gripping your hips, grunting with each movement, Mary pounds into you. Hard. When he finally punches into your G-stop you moan low and long, buckling forward a bit. Mary hisses at you to keep position, but after that he manages to hit your sweet spot on most thrusts.
“Oh fuck, Mare—harder,” you slur as your head rolls onto one of your arms.
There’s a slight pause, and then he’s rolling his hips before giving you sharp jolts.
“You want it harder, or you want my finger on your clit?”
You make a long Mmm noise. “One, then the other.”
“Fucking picky,” he grumbles, but then he’s punching into you again. And again.
And again.
You moan and grunt, pressing back into him where you can as he pounds into you. When your fingernails start scrabbling at the wall, one of Mary’s hands detaches from your hips and slides down between your legs; it splays, and one of his fingers starts rubbing at your neglected clit.
This time you really do buckle forward with pleased Uhn, and you feel the heat of Mary’s hard cock as it slips out of you. A breathy Shit escapes his mouth as his finger leaves you so that he can reposition you and slide his cock back in.
“Oh!” you gasp. “Fuck me good, Mare!”
“Christ, I’m trying. Stay still.”
You acquiesce as best you can, letting his finger slip slide on your clit as his cock punches into you. You’re gasping and moaning, rolling your head from side to side, and at some point you started banging your fist on the wall. The closer you get to your climax, the more your legs begin to tremble.
The two of you babble nonsense at each other.
“Oh, I want it—I want it! I wanna cum. I wanna cum. Make me cum, Mare. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me …”
“I’m gonna give it to you so good, baby doll. My cock’s gonna make you cum so hard. Are you gonna do it? Are you gonna cum on my cock?”
You press back into Mary and then rock into his finger, trying to climb over the hill of arousal to your climax. He’s beginning to lose his steadiness, his speed and consistency becoming erratic.
“Fuck, Suey—I’m gonna … I’m gonna …”
The thought of Mary blowing his load and moaning his pleasure into you brings you to the crest of your hill, and you yell out Fuckfuckfuck—banging your fist into the wall—as you feel yourself tighten, then spasm in pulses. You almost slide down the wall, but suddenly Mary’s hand is gripping the front of your neck and angling you up as he starts slamming frenetically into you, panting hard.
He lets out a loud grunt as he cums, thrusting hard into you and pressing you into the wall; he squashes you further as he fucks out his aftershocks and attempts to latch onto the nape of your neck before deciding to just suck the ever-loving fuck out of your skin there.
Your face and arms are pressed against the cool of the wall, and Mary’s suction is turning into little kisses as his arms wrap around your middle.
“Mmm,” he purrs as he nuzzles into your skin.
You can already feel Mary’s cock softening, so you wiggle around to face him; he’s already there and waiting, his mouth finding yours to worm his tongue into. His hands run up to wind into your hair as he rubs against you.
“Fuck. What did I ever do to deserve you,” he murmurs against your lips.
“Probably the blow jobs,” you mutter back at him, and he laughs.
Mary’s hand travels back between your legs, two fingers tapping at then sliding in and out of your hole.
“Mare,” you grunt, pulling away from his kisses.
“What?” he asks as his mouth only starts to travel down your neck.
“Mare, what’re you doing?”
“Hmm,” he hums. “Just feeling my jizz drip out of you. S’nice.”
You make a sound of indignation and push him away from you. Even stumbling back he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Don’t be gross, Mare.”
He raises his hands up in supplication.
***
After you’ve made Mary join you in a quick shower—laughingly fending off further lascivious attacks—the two of get ready for bed.
Mary actually crawls into bed way before you do, so you wrap yourself around his half-asleep comma when you slip under the covers.
“Mare?”
He grunts.
“Do you really want to see the stars again?”
There’s a pause—and you think he must have drifted off—but then one of his hands rests atop yours.
“Yeah,” he croaks.
“Ok, baby,” you say, kissing his neck.
He tenses for a second, then relaxes.
“Ok,” he says as he grips your hand tighter.
Next ➡️
27 notes · View notes
lover-of-midnight · 3 years
Text
Difference - chapter 3
ating:
Mature
Archive Warning
Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category:
M/M
Fandom:
Merlin (TV)
Relationships:
Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Leon & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Leon & Merlin (Merlin)
Gaius & Merlin (Merlin)
Characters:
Merlin (Merlin)
Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Uther Pendragon (Merlin)
Gaius (Merlin)
Balinor (Merlin)
Hunith (Merlin)
Nimueh (Merlin)
Igraine Pendragon
Additional Tags:
Hurt/Comfort
Emotional Hurt
Angst
Fluff
Soul-mates AU
magical arthur
Protective Merlin (Merlin)
Hurt Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Child Abuse
Insecure Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
touch-starved Arthur Pendragon
First and third POV Arthur Pendragon
Second and fourth chapter POV Merlin
Then combined chapters
Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Self-Harm
Suicidal Thoughts
Camelot's original heir is coming back
Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin)
Alternate Universe - Magic
Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language:English
Arthur slumped against his desk, his homework was forgotten for a moment. He signed tiredly. He walked to the window.
There was a shadow of a doubt in his eyes as he watched children playing, women talking. Men shouting to get people to the market.
He scratched at his arm, he wished the buzz would go away the itch for his magic to get out. He could still remember ten years ago when Uther had found out about his magic.
Since that day he forced it down, trying to forget the fact that he could feel it move under his skin searching for a way out.
Arthur jumped slightly when there was a knock on the door. “Enter.” His voice was almost dead.
Gaius pressed the door open his eyes were worried. “Sire?” His voice was loud in the quiet room. Arthur sank into himself slightly.
“Don’t call me that please.” His eyes showed the plea clear.
“Arthur are you alright?” Gaius glanced to the door before he looked at the prince again.
So many years had gone by, in the beginning, Gaius had tried to help Arthur master his magic, but the fear he had developed for Uther had made him press his magic down.
Blocking it from forming and begin an aid to Arthur. In the end, it also started to make Arthur ill, his magic needed to be realised but since he didn’t. He started to struggle to sleep, concentration was a problem for him.
When Uther had a query about it, Gaius had simply told him a lie, if he had known that it was of magic that made Arthur ill he would have a breakdown again.
“No. Uther wants me to lead the men to a druid camp.” He didn’t bother to say anything else, they both know that by the end of the night the whole camp would be destroyed.
“I can’t do it, Gaius, I can’t just go and kill them, they are like me.” The last part came out almost hysterically.
Gaius pulled Arthur into his arms but when he jumped back Gaius could only look at him with worry in his eyes.
“What did he do?” Gaius knows Arthur and that he would have stood up against Uther.
Arthur glanced to the floor, his hands balled into fists. He bit the inside of his lip. “Whipping.” His voice could barely be heard.
“Let me see, child.” Gaius kept his voice gentle even if he wanted to blow up in anger.
Arthur could only shake his head, he didn’t want anyone to see the scars, how much of a disappointment he was.
“Arthur it could get infected. Let me see please.” Gaius made sure to softened his voice slightly. How many more times would he need to do this.
Barley fifteen and he already had more scars than most soldiers. It took a few tries from Gaius before Arthur worked with him.
Arthur hissed slightly when the bandages pulled away from the wound. He could hear Gaius mumbling something under his breath but he didn’t bother to try and figure out what he said.
“What happened here?” Gaius looked at the bruises around Arthur’s hips. Some of them were new and some were already turning yellow.
He could see Arthur tensing up. “It doesn’t matter.” Arthur’s voice was thick and broke slightly.
“It does matter Arthur.” Gaius walked around Arthur to look him in the eyes. All he could see was despair, someone who was let down.
There was wild desperation in Arthur’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter, nothing to be done of it.” Arthur bit his lip to keep himself from screaming, this wasn’t Gaius fault, he only wanted to help.
Gaius could only nod, he would leave pain medication and a salve for him. When Arthur was ready he would hopefully come and talk about it.
“All right Arthur, if you need an ear you know where to find me,” Gaius said as Arthur went to lay down on the bed.
His body was trembling with pent up anger and hate for the situation. He wished that he could fight back be a better person but there is nothing he can do at the moment. Hopefully soon Uther would meet the other world but Arthur knows unless it is a murder he wouldn’t go so easily.
Gaius cleaned the wounds before he put on a salve to keep infection out and then he bandages them with clean linen.
“Come to me tonight that I can redo them please Arthur.” Gaius wished that he could pull him into a hug but Arthur didn’t allow contact since he was around nine.
“I will Gaius.” Arthur’s voice was small. Gaius could only nod, as he left just before he reached the door he stilled.
“Thank you.” There was a softness to Arthur’s voice Gaius didn’t like, he sounded like the dead and Gaius wished that he could do something to change that for him.
“Of course child.” Gaius gave Arthur an encouraging smile before he left.
Arthur felt like a part of himself was slowly dying. He didn’t know how much more he would be able to take.
Every since Uther had made it clear that he didn’t care about his son, the other noble-teens would try and hurt him for being born into the royal family.
He walked to the mirror, his eyes darted to the bruising on his hips, there were more on his thighs and legs.
They had thought it would be a fun game to try and make him scream, they had known he wouldn’t be able to go to Uther with it, so they got away. He sat down heavily on the floor.
Sometimes he wished that he could only stay in his room and never leave. What does it matter that he would one day be King?
It would be better to just go and work in the fields in some village than suffer through with this bullshit.
Arthur felt tears burning at his eyes. He still had a lot of work to be done, but at the moment he just wanted to leave for a while.
And that is exactly what he did, he didn’t tell the guards at his door where he was going. He didn’t bother to leave a note.
Arthur kept his eyes on the ground as he walked to the stables, he was glad that he was still in his training clothes, so hopefully, William would allow him to work with him in the fields today.
The mare snorted when he walked to her, Arthur grimaced as he got her ready, it wasn’t far to go but he hoped that it would help him clear his head somewhat.
“Let’s go girl.” If there was anyone that could have heard his voice they would have been worried for the young one sounded dead.
With a light tap the horse started to move, Arthur allowed her to gallop, the wind was slightly cold as it sliced into his face but it gave him the courage to gather his strengths.
Camelot soon becomes a blur behind him. Arthur tried to ignore the pain in his back and bum. It wasn’t worth it to think about it.
After riding for two hours he walked into the small village, it was nothing more than a few huts and an inn.
It was one of the closeth villages to Camelot but the earth was harder to work and for the most part, it didn’t look like there was anything that really grew there. But the people work hard and they were happy.
Arthur slid off the mare, he grimaced at the movement and for a moment he had to stop and take a breath.
A sound made him spun around. For a moment it felt like his vision was going to go black but he pushed it away. He wanted to be here and he wasn’t going to allow his body to just give in on him.
“Arthur, we didn’t expect to see you so soon again.” The man’s face was covered in dirt but his green eyes shined with friendliness.
“William.” Arthur greeted the man, he was sometimes surprised that the man could be so big as he was but Arthur suspected that it came with the territory of being a woodworker.
“What are you doing here son?” William led the way to a small hut a little bit further down the road.
“Just needed to get out for a while. I was wondering if you maybe have some work for me?” Arthur kept his voice light.
William was silent for a while when Arthur had turned up the first time two years ago he was close to falling off his horse. It took a few days before Arthur had regained enough of his strength to talk and soon thereafter the guards had shown up searching for the prince.
He had fled from Uther the first time he was whipped, without taking care of the wounds he had gone for his horse, letting her go wherever she wanted.
“You can come and help me in the woods. Maria is working in the fields today.” William glanced to where a young woman was busy to get the earth ready to plant seeds.
Arthur was silent as they walked to the woods surrounding the village. The people had a saying that you could only take what you need and when a tree was done you needed to plant two in his stead.
William handed Arthur a dull axe, he watched silently as Arthur sharpened the blade before he got to work.
It looked like the work was distracting Arthur from whatever demons were tormenting him.
Too soon late afternoon was on them.
“Come and rest a little bit, I am assuming you are going home soon?” William asked as they carried the last wood to the hut.
Arthur glanced at the sun. “Unfortunately.” William gave him a worried look but there is nothing they can do for him even if he fitted in with the village people.
Maria gave Arthur a small cup of goat milk, her eyes were a warm brown, her brown hair in a plait behind her head.
“Thank you, Maria.” Arthur gave her a friendly smile. He knows when she gets married that the person would be one lucky man.
After an hour Arthur was forced to greet them, he could feel some of the wounds had reopened through the day but he didn’t care. His mind felt clearer and he hoped that he would have a chance to do this soon again.
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macybeckham7 · 4 years
Text
Olympic Blues - James Maddison
‘Want to take him out, I can get you a bat and we can go all Nancy Kerrigan on his ass’ Jadon mutters which gets a slap from Chilly.
‘Who is Nancy?’ Marcus questioned giving his teammate a questioning look.
James was a frantically pacing around the room as he tried to get ahold of YN’s family, just to know more information. As the camera went off the performing area and went back to the commentators who started to talk.
YN was shaken up as she her breathing become faster and faster making it harder for her breath normally, her heart rate quickened and she felt really faint. Her eyes went round the crowd and all she needed right at that moment was James.
‘Hey look at me, YN you are ok’ her mum appeared as she sandwiched her face with her hands as she tried to calm her daughter down.
She managed to get her up and off the ice before she had a full melt down. She took off her boot and throw it across the floor, the door opened and they both turned to look to find coach and Isaiah.
‘What the FUCK was that?’ She argued. ‘I trusted you and you dropped me again’ she snapped as she hit him on the chest.
‘I took my eyes off the ball for a mini second’ he mumbles.
YN launched for him but luckily her mum got her and pulled her away as she whispered in her ear to calm down.
‘I’m sorry, it’s not my fault you are too heavy, I haven’t had any problems with any of my other partners’ Isaiah sassed.
Coach slapped the back of his head. ‘No, we are not doing that’ she scowls him.
He instantly ducks as YN launches her boot at him, which narrowly missing his head.
‘And I never had PROBLEMS with my other partners! Do you know how many times you’ve dropped me? How many cuts and scrapes you’ve gave me!’ She snapped. ‘YOU were the reason I was in the hospital bed and had to learn to skate again! YOU nearly cost me my dream’ she argues as she gets emotional.
Coach walks inbetween them. ‘You two are a team, you face hurdles and you get over them together, you both skate beautifully together and you got that Olympic gold thanks to one another’ she speaks calmly.
The two skating partners both staring each other down.
‘We’ve got a change to go again, let’s go to the training rink go through it before you get called back’ she says calmly.
YN puts her boots back on and goes to the rink, coach was coaching Isaiah as YN got lost in her own world. She felt like her whole time on the ice flashed in front of her eyes. She came to a stop as her fingers ran across her scar.
She realised that since her accident she hasn’t been happy, not really. She had fire in belly because her competition all doubted her.
And now she realised that she didn’t belong in this world anymore, she wasn’t ready to try dangerous lifts and wasn’t ready to just get back up again.
‘YN?’ Isaiah appeared infront of her making her jump slightly. ‘Are you alright? Look what I-’ she cut him off by putting her hand up and skating away.
She placed the guards on the blades and ran to the changing room. She grabbed her bag and ran to the bathroom.
She looked into the middle and took in her reflection, her grip on the sink tighten before she started throwing everything about in an anger fit. She found her phone and instantly found his contact. She looked down at his name before she decided to call him.
It only rang twice before he is answering hushing Ben and Harry.
‘YNN are you alright? Talk to me?’ He rambled.
Her breath went shaky as she heard the nickname he always used to call her.
‘I can’t do this anymore’ she cried.
James’ whole heartbreaking as he heard her cry and realising that there was nothing he could do about it.
‘Can’t do What love?’
She let out a big sigh trying to control her emotions. ‘Everything, I’ve lost my best friend and I’ve love the love of my life’ she cries.
‘And which one of those complies to me?’ He jokes making her giggle.
‘I don’t love ice skating anymore’ she whispers. ‘Isaiah is a twat, and I can’t start from the beginning again, I’m exhausted’
He chuckles. ‘I could of told you that’. His ears prick up as he hears that she was going to redo the performance.
‘Do you think this is just the Olympic blues? Maybe I’ve realised being an champion isn’t as great as I thought it was, maybe that’s Michael Phelps’ secret’ she announces.
He hums. ‘Yeah maybe you need to get 28 to really feel good.. Listen go out there now and skate like it’s your last skate, you’ve got this’
James sat watching as YN and Isaiah reappeared, he realised that she wasn’t even trying to look happy. The two skated in a circle as she ran her hands down her thighs.
James nibbled at his nails as he watched, he could tell that she wasn’t at her best, she was more shaky on her feet and she was more timid in her movements. Her blade caught Isaiah on the thigh but they managed to carry on. They held the final pose before Isaiah whispered something to YN through gritted teeth, and anybody with eyes could see the tension.
‘You did that on purpose’ he muttered as the two skates off the rink hand in hand.
‘Took your laidback approach’ she grinned.
The two stood waiting for their results, their coach stood inbetween them as they snapped at each other.
YN’s eyes looked up at the scoreboard and saw they were in gold medal position. Neither of them celebrated and just got hugged by their coach who seemed to be bursting with joy.
They took their seats in front of the cameras and watched the Italians.
‘I’m so done with this’ she mutters as he looks at her. ‘Just done with it all, I’m exhausted’ she whispers.
He hums. ‘We’ve had a good run though right’ he smiled.
She looks at him before she stood up and applauded the Italians. The four of them stood beside eachother as they were definitely close and it could go either way. She felt herself hoping that they would get it rather than them. But they were just .5 short and came in silver place.
Their celebrations were tame as they took to the medal ceremony, her hand on her chest as she closed her eyes as the national anthem started. As her eyes reopened she looked around the crowd and saw the sea of Union Jacks.
She mustered up her best smile as they took the photos, before they got called to have an interview with the BBC. She wrapped her body in the Union Jack that was given to her from the fans.
‘Olympic Champions and now World Champions, What is next for you both as a duo?’ The interviewer smiles.
They both look at eachother. ‘I don’t think there is anything next’ she shrugged. ‘I think maybe it’s time to close the chapter to the book’ she explained.
She watched as the interviewers face look at her confused. ‘So there will be no more YN and Isaiah partnership?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think there will be anymore YN, I think it’s time to hang up my boots. I’ve achieved my dream and there is so many times someone can get up again’ she says softly.
‘So this is it completely? Or will you carry on skating in your own time?’ She got questioned.
She let out a small sigh. ‘I don’t know, maybe I’ll go into coaching’ she smiles.
YN runs out of the stadium as she tries to contain her crying, she runs towards her car and cries as she grips onto the steering wheel. It hit her completely that she had just hung up her boots. After her solo dance she did a lap of honour and applauded the fans who were all cheering.
She felt herself jump as she heard someone tap on the window, she looked up and saw it was James. She opened the door and jumped out and instantly hugged him.
‘Hey love’ he hugs her back. ‘I’m so proud of you’ he whispers.
She instantly crying more harder. ‘I’m sorry I chose-‘
He cut her off by kissing her. ‘It’s ok baby’ he grins. He pulls out the ring from his pocket. ‘Do you still want this?’
She grins as she nods. ‘I do’ she giggles.
He pushes it onto her fingers before they kiss eachother softly, before he hugs her. ‘Come on let’s get you home’
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hornsandthings · 5 years
Text
red in your eyes, blood on my hands;
pairing: barry berkman x reader
summary: barry forces the reader’s hand by coming home beaten and bloody, asking them to stitch him up.
tags: angst & fluff! (my staples, of course) + blood. // word count: 1.8k // ps. i was overwhelmed by the super nice feedback on my prev. barry piece, thank you so much!! x 
barry groaned as he crumpled into the couch, his eyes shut tight as you knelt before him. he was loosely tugging at his jacket’s zip, the dark metal gleaming wetly. the black clothing stuck to his torso, deceiving the casual eye but it was no absolute keeper of secrets. you touched, you felt, and your hand came away red.
he shifted and you gasped, catching sight of the wound beneath the rip, an oozing, bloody mess. “barry,” you whispered, eyes wide, “barry. i need to take you to the hospital.”
he raised his head at that, wincing. “no. no hospitals,” he wheezed, weakly nudging at the plastic bag on the ground with his foot.
“you’re bleeding, barry! it’s deep—”
“stitches. all i need are stitches,” he reasoned, so pale and so tired. your mind was racing while his movements were slow, his breaths laboured. “i’d do it myself, but my hands are shaking.”
and they were. you gripped them hard, searching his eyes before dropping your gaze to his wound. his shirt covered the gore, but the wet, darkened patch was quickly growing. heartbeat pounding in your ears, it took several moments before you realised what barry was trying to ask, making you look down at the small package that peeked out from the bag.
a sewing kit.
“w-what?” you stammered, shaking your head wildly. one of barry’s hands had since slipped your hold, gripping his middle. red seeped between his fingers. “no. n-n-no. i—i can’t—i can’t do that—”
“please,” he sighed, the pain in eyes making your throat constrict. “i’m not doin’ so hot—”
“barry!” you pleaded, desperation making you sweat. he was already pulling at his shirt, letting it tear to reveal the blood beneath. the wound gaped, swollen and angry. it even seemed to throb, barry’s blood still oozing free with every heartbeat. his head lolled back onto the seat, looking down at you with drooping eyes.
“listen, barry, i don’t know how—you need a goddamn doctor—”
“i’ll tell you how,” he said, lip curling as tried to readjust his seat. there was the grumbling undertone of annoyance and frustration in his voice, or perhaps it was only the pain. “please, baby, you’re all i—agh, fuckin’—”
the blood had left a trail, all the way down his stomach to the line of his pants, beginning to stain the couch itself.
“fine,” you rushed, swallowing hard. “shit. okay, tell me what to do.” clenching your jaw, you stared that wound down, trying to get used to the sight. it was revolting, forcing your steely determination into a grimace. when barry failed to answer, you gripped his chin with the kind of strength only panic could induce. he was your lifeline now, just as much as you might’ve been his.
“yeah, okay,” he said, nodding. “you need to sterilise the needle.”
“h-how?” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes as you fumbled with the little sewing kit. your hands were trembling so hard that you almost spilled it all.
“fire is the quickest.”
you nodded, hurrying to the kitchen. the drawers banged as you tore them open, utensils knocking together as you fumbled for a gas lighter. everything – your face, your skin, your eyes – felt hot as your daft fingers repeatedly missed the trigger.
“fuck!” you squeaked, and a tear burned down your cheek. you changed tactics by rinsing your hands before filling a bowl with water, then gathering some paper towel. you tried to steady yourself, but your knuckles remained white, and the painful lump in your throat was there to stay.
kneeling between barry’s legs again, you had him hold onto the needle for the moment. “clean—gotta clean—”
your words were whispered, stuttered things, barely coherent as you started wiping the blood away. barry hissed, but you were being as gentle as possible, guided by caution rather than sympathy. your alarm seemed to calm somewhat as the wound became a jagged cut as opposed to an indiscernible gory mess, but something else was stirring in your chest. you couldn’t quite identify it, but it felt hot and fast, like something building. escalating.
finally figuring out the gas lighter, both of you watched the needle glow red. “that’s good,” he croaked. you nodded mutely, preparing the thread. “alright, come—come closer.”
barry settled against the back of the couch as firmly as he could, pulling you with him. his thighs brushed either side of your middle, and the smell of sweat and iron was pungent as you leaned close to his chest. his hands settled on your shoulders; it was almost a comfort.
“okay. start at the bottom, yeah—there.” pressing a hand next to the cut, you readied the needle, listening intently. “outside to inside, inside to outside,” he was saying, but you were shaking too much and the blood was warm on your fingers—
“dammit!”he growled, and you whimpered, sight blurring with fresh tears as that needle hung limp from his skin. the single stitch was loose, and the wound was still as gaping wide as ever. he eyed the mess you made, but squeezed your shoulder in reassurance. “it’s too shallow,” he panted, and you felt horrible for causing him more pain, but you weren’t a doctor; hell, you didn’t even own a first aid kit.
“i’m sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “barry, i can’t—”
“you can,” he insisted, starting to relay instructions again. he often interrupted himself with little grunts as you worked the needle, grinding your teeth when you had to pinch the skin together to pull the thread through. the task itself got easier with every additional stitch, getting used to the smooth slide of metal through flesh. “th-that’s it, baby. you’re doing—ouch, jesus—g-great.”
“fuck you, barry,” you ground out, feeling that tight, pressing feeling in your chest again. what if he woke up later with infection? what if it just ripped open again, what if he had lost too much blood already, what if he falls asleep and doesn’t wake up?
but it was done. a jagged line of simple interrupted sutures kept the wound closed, the black thread in stark contrast to his pale skin. his calloused palm slid up your neck to cup your jaw, pulling you up until your lips met his. it was a breathy kiss, soon interrupted by your choked sob. barry’s brow furrowed, looking down at your limp hands. they were stained with his blood.
your head spun. releasing a shuddering breath, you shifted to rest your head in his lap, gently curling your arms around his calves. he was running a hand through your hair, allowing some of the tension to leave his body.
“thanks,” he murmured, voice hoarse. you didn’t know what to say, trembling with lingering shock. you wanted to throw up; you wanted him to leave; you wanted to kiss him; you wanted to go to sleep.
“did you have to do this in the marines?” you ventured, fixating on the plastic bag you had kicked aside in your earlier haste. it boasted one of those stupid yellow smiley faces, telling you to have a nice day, but this one was crumpled and creased and folded in upon itself.
“i never had to, but we still had to know how,” he said, his response coming quicker than you expected. perhaps he was relieved that you weren’t asking about what had brought him here tonight, and you weren’t going to, either. a part of you was furious that he had the audacity to ask you to do this, to stitch him up, keep death at the door despite being just an average person. there was this, but also the anger that came with panic.
barry had scared you.
“are you going to be okay?” you sniffed, lifting your head. he gave you one of those soft, barely-there smiles, and you wanted to sob. “i’m so sorry, barry. i messed it up. it’s probably going to scar.”
“i don’t care,” he said. “it’ll make me remember that you were there for me when i, uh, when i needed you. i don’t… i don’t really have that with a lot of people.”
your heart clenched at the words. reaching for him, you halted as soon as you caught sight of your hands again, sticky with blood. recoiling, disgust crawled down your spine as that gaping wound flashed in your mind again.
with haggard pants and deep grunts, barry lowered himself to the floor next to you. “stop it!” you rushed, “you’re going to undo the stitches.” but they held, and barry took your hands in his as he dipped them in the bowl of water. “what are you doing?”
“saying sorry.”
you weren’t expecting it to work without any soap, but some of the blood flaked off your skin as barry gently washed it. tears rolled down your cheeks as you wondered how many times he’s had to do this for himself, how often his sink or shower had run red. your gaze kept drifting to his injury, trying to determine how he’d gotten it. if it was an attack, or an act of self-defence against barry.
“hey,” he said, his hand cold and wet as it held your cheek. “i’ll redo the stitches later, but i really needed to close it up fast. thank you, baby. i mean it.” barry kissed you again, all furrow-browed and smushed nose, stubble scraping your skin. it was familiar, reassuring, and you let your lips mould to his over and over again, hands curling over his nape. he tried to shift even closer, but the strain had him groaning in pain.
“let me get you some painkillers,” you sighed, helping him to your bedroom. he was heavy as he leaned against you, limbs gangly. he fell asleep before you even got the pills to him, still sitting against the headboard in his dirty clothes.
and so things dulled to monotony again; you showered, dressed, fell asleep beside him. the next day, barry would wake up with a hundred apologies, saying things like i shouldn’t have involved you and i wasn’t thinking straight, but you’d tell him it was alright, it was all alright, even though it wasn’t. the feeling of barry’s blood slipping through your fingers was oppressive, sickening; it filled you with such regret and fear and longing. however, the thing – the most ridiculous thing, perhaps – was that you loved him. you loved barry berkman, despite his shades of grey, and you’d much rather get your hands dirty than have him struggling out in some empty alleyway.
“please don’t do this again,” you had whispered to his sleeping form, gently smoothing out those frown lines on his brow. it was a futile wish, because barry’s life was governed by murphy’s law, but if he still held hope in his heart, so could you.
165 notes · View notes
hyycks · 5 years
Text
100 reasons to love lee donghyuck
[repost cause i remade oops; ill be posting part two for his birthday!]
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“hAEllo my name is Haechan :D”
his raw talent and passion for performing.
he’s always ready to jump on stage and for his very best, and you can see it everytime he smiles at the end of his performance
as a trainee he was one of the best rappers since he had such an amazing sense of rhythm as doyoung mentioned  
music is more than just his job, it’s his passion and he genuinely enjoys learning and experiencing music
his undying love for Michael Jackson
his heart shaped smile that really rivals the sun itself.
his smile is so pure and sincere it can make anyone’s day better
his confidence in his tanned skin, even though some people tease him for it he’s always so loving about his own skin color.
his constant need for physical affection whether it be hugging his members or trying to give Mark cheek kisses
hes not afraid to show his love adoration for members
his laugh and the way he almost falls over from laughing too hard
the fact that he cooks for the members from time to time, showing how much he truly cares for them
mood maker of the group!!! he’s always trying to make everyone happy and keep the team energized with his jokes or random acts!
he’s more considerate than people make him out to be. although people keep teasing Jeno for being “No Jam” he said Jeno is really one of the funniest members as a compliment and Jeno was so smiley throughout the rest of the vlive.
the way he smiles so fondly at the younger members and is always looking out for them
his passion for dancing. even though he’s the vocalist in the group, his dancing skills are truly commendable. he has sharp memory when it comes to dance and he enjoys learning to choreo to sooo many songs!!
the way he calls himself fullsun in English!
HIS ENGLISH! *cue donghyuck saying marshmallow*
his taste in music, he listens to amazing songs across so many different genres, and loves recommending songs to us as well which is so adorable
the way he styles himself! he knows what looks good on him but he’s not afraid to try new things
the fact that he collects LPs! he loves collecting LPs of his favorite albums, and you can see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes when he spotted a few of his fav in LA
his cute tarot readings! also in LA he bought a pack of tarot cards and did some readings for the members and he was so engrossed and into it!
when he’s deeply invested in something, he suddenly goes all quiet and concentrates.
his love for video games! he keeps complaining saying he’s not the best at them but he still tries regardless and enjoys himself!
his voice. his voice is so soothing and gentle, it’s honestly so angelic sm pls let him release a solo track
he can play the piano really well and it’s one of his favorite hobbies !!
he respects shinee a lot, and especially adores Taemins music and he looks up to them!
he grew up so much!! he used to be short and really cute during chewing gum but since then he’s grown really tall!
not just physically, he’s grown so much more mentally. as a person he’s more responsible and careful and he’s so kind and loving
he loves playing with children, and he’s so kind and careful when playing with them!!
even when he’s going through a hard time he tries his best to stay the smiley donghyuck we know of!
his talent doesn’t just stop at performing he does his own eye makeup and shines in his own special way
he wants to be a singer-songwriter and I truly believe he his capable of writing beautiful and amazing music !!
he’s improved so much since the start! he keeps practicing and learning more day by day
he’s so so so caring, when Jisung couldn’t dribble the ball, he kept causing disturbances so that he could redo it!!
the tinie way he kept repeating I love you to sicheng during the 2 year anniversary olive
his giggles!!
dongsookie and the way he laughs while covering his mouth
the way his skin glimmers when he wears the color red
RED! IS! A COLOR! CREATED! FOR! HIM!
he looks so good in red, when he had red hair or whenever he wears red items of clothing his features just stand out so much more!!
he’s been playing football since he was in elementary school and is good at it too!
he’s so good with his words and could easily become a well known variety!dol with his wit and sharp comments
mc!hyuck
sm make hyuck an MC or send him to a variety show please he’s so funnie and quick witted I’m sure he’ll do a great job!
his acting skills! ask him to be dramatic, he’s your guy he can portray multiple emotions in 0.003 seconds what a legend
his lines in paradise :(( (they’re so beautiful I love his voice)
whenever hyuck wears SnapBacks and you can see his cute forehead it just makes me want to give him a thousand tinie kisses
when he gave jeno a kiss on the cheek during the shooting of ‘go’ and just bolted away and how the dreamies remembered it as a memory from shooting the MV
when he harmonizes with Jaehyun and both of their voices sound like angels singing together
on his phone cover he has stickers of all the 127 members from the chain album :(( how … cute
his verses in heartbreaker and angel are the reason why I still breathe they make me feel all giddy inside his voice is so so nice?!
that gif… of donghyuck wrapped up in a blanket and giggling makes my heart jump around like a fool I might as well join the olympics
his high note in ‘go’ is single handedly the best thing ever (renjun singing that part is second)
NCT members said that donghyuck can make delicious food with wtv is in the fridge we love a king of improv cooking
when his hair has his natural waves and he suddenly looks so much more adorable I don’t know how to explain it but .. that photo shoot of his wavy hair … I love it
TRIGGER THE FEVER! All of dreamies did amazing !! BUT TRIGGER THE FEVER I LOVE THE SONG I LOVE HIS SINGING IN THE SONG AND CHOREO IS SO AWESOME I LOVE LOVE LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT
I LOVE HIS HIGH NOTES IN TRIGGER THE FEVER HES SUCH A TALENTED SINGER!!
that aside the dreamies choreos aren’t simple they all put in a lot of work and effort and I’m so proud of all of them, especially my first and last the choreo is so detailed !!
“hErE iS kORea mAN.” “don’T fOrGet okAY?”
him trying to give spoilers for ‘go’ and being pushed off by the other members because he was overdoing it soo much fshsh
whenever they do yaja time, hyuck is either the one having the most fun or suffering the most
when he’s with 127 doing yaja time, he really doesn’t hold back but then karma gets it when jisung picks on him when he’s with the dreamies
when he was directing the boy video for mark and chenle and he kept asking them to change the ‘mood’ of the shoot after every few seconds making everyone laugh
when he held that same eye batting cute smile through most of the live (´。• ω •。`)
the fact that he makes up different handshakes with each member and showed them to us too!
behind video for joy and hyuck kept pretending to be lifted up by the helium balloon in the background
Johnny’s love for hyuck and hyucks love johnny, we don’t talk enough about this, they’re both just adorable and so precious
his “hi girls ;D” in the momo x video
when chenle said “sea” in Chinese and hyuck replying “hi :D” cause they sound similar
his cute frustrated face when chenle said he didn’t know what shadow was in korean and he lost the game
when he clung on to mark and said “hyung, I’m hungryyy.” in the most adorable voice ever
“booming system up uh ty track uh ty track”
when doyoung asked hyuck to sing a song from his ost to prove that he heard it and he just sang “APADO GWENCHANA.”
he’s savage and a teasing mess a lot of the times but he’s secretly really sweet and caring and that makes him just so endearing
he may tease mark relentlessly but mark sees him as a younger sibling which shows just how close these two are :((
when his karaoke got voted the most not fun event during NCT life in Paju but instead of just complaining he got up and made a nice breakfast for all of the members
his cover of smooth criminal on weekly idol [plus his cute lisp]
this five seconds at the end of the 00+00+00+00=LOVE vlive where hyuck plays a cover of a thousand miles
when he couldn’t break his chopsticks and taeyong gave him his instead, the way he smiled out of love is just so warm???
he’s honestly so so so talented I mean he’s even good at archery he went on isac and did his very best I was so proud?
when he did a freestyle to whiplash? like where does his talent stop? he’s so talented and skilled in so many areas?
those tiny video which he posts on twitter looking like the cutest boy ever
the way he looks when he wears glasses is just so cute and adorable?
that clip of him jumping around in the feathers for the touch MV
his eyes that are shaped like tony almonds that hold the glimmer of all the stars in this universe combined
his strong stage charisma that has the ability to leave everyone stunned
his scar next to his eye that just makes him all the more human and all the more lovable
all of the moles on his body that deserve to kissed and loved over and over again
he’s really sweet and kind but he loves prancing his members tbt NCT life in Paju when he pranked the members with salted sprite and soy sauce cola and half the members didn’t trust him because they’re used to his pranks
that time when he and Jeno pranked jisung by changing his iPad wallpaper to a cockroach
the way he giggles is so soft and loving it makes flowers bloom all over the world
That time when Chenle and Hyuck relentlessly pushed away members in NCT Dream School Mate to win the game. “yEA ChEnLE BaBY”
he’s actually so thoughtful, he bought a radio just because Johnny and Jaehyun host a radio show to show how much he loves and supports them
when he was singing “baby don’t like it” live on NCT night night but forgot the lyrics it was so cute? (not to mention how blessed his voice was)
kept dancing to other groups choreos instead of their own when dreamies were doing the let’s dance and mark got so frustrated
NCT 127 on Ah!Nimdle where he kept rushing to the front to answer questions about the members by “giving up on looking handsome” (we’d all do it for food thanks)
his commentary on the soccer vlive he did with Jisung and Jungwoo and Yuta! (sm he’s so talented look)
he cuddles people in his sleep which is why he wanted to room with Jeno because he’s comfortable with him but when Jeno exposed hyuck he got so so so so so shy owo
In general he’s such an amazingly talented and wonderful person. He deserves so much more love and I just wish he’d get the appreciation he deserves because even through all the hardships he manages to stay the fullsun we all know and love.
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Hello darling! Are you still doing fic recs? Because I am in dire need of self-conscious Sherlock. Don't ask me why but I am just craving sad, lonely little sherlock getting comforted by John. Help a girl out? Thanks so much either way!
Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: Heyy darling, I just wanna say that I LOVE YOUR BLOG SM! Everyday I spend here looking at your posts and reading thousands of awesome fanfictions, so thank you lol 💜 Also, could you maybe give me a list of all fanfics with insecure!sherlock or insecure!john ? And lots of angst, like reading/watching/seeing things they weren’t supposed to see that has their love on it, stuff like that hahaha Thank you babe 🖤
Hi Lovelies! 
Always! I actually started a list a short while back because someone else asked for one but I can’t find the ask, LOL. I’ve actually done a post in the past for it, but I think I’ll just redo it and stamp it with Jan 2019, LOL. Here we are!
I know I have more but I haven’t retagged all my past readings, so I’ve only included ones that I remember indefinitely is an insecure Sherlock or John
INSECURE / AWKWARD SHERLOCK OR JOHN (Jan. 2019)
See also:
BedSharing Pt. 2 and Insecure Sherlock
BAMF! But Insecure John
Bands by dragonQuill907 (T, 1,017 w. || Established Relationship, POV Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock) – “Her wedding ring. Ten years old at least. The rest of her jewelry has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State of her marriage right there. The inside of the ring is shinier than the outside – that means it’s regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger.”
Secrets by 796116311389 (G, 1,084 w. || Drunk Sherlock, Drunk Confessions, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Pining Sherlock) – “He is the best person in the world and sometimes I get sad because I’m not. Not his best person.”
Under The Covers by berlynn_wohl (E, 1,221 w. || Est. Rel., Shy Sherlock, Anal, Fluff) – John would have liked to have the lights on and seen everything, but Sherlock was shy, so they did it this way, always.
29 January 2017 by wearitcounts (Sher_locked_up) (E, 1,765 w. || Anniversary, First Time, Insecure Sherlock, Love Confessions, Post-S4) – “That,” John says, “should have happened years ago. Maybe even the first time.”
Loudly Unspoken by Mount_Seleya (M, 1,871 w. || Post-TAB, Love Confessions, Vulnerable Sherlock, Frottage) – John confronts Sherlock about the words he left unsaid on the tarmac. Set immediately after TAB.
The Marriage Proposal Negotiation by Goddess_of_the_Night (G, 2,161 w. || Dev. Rel., Possessive Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, First Kiss, Post Mary) – Sherlock hasn’t ever really done anything the traditional way, so of course it wouldn’t bother him to propose to John even though they’re not even dating. And the fact that John is already on a date with someone else when he decides to do it? Tedious.
Unmissed by 221b_hound (M, 3,235 w. || Est. Rel., Pet Names, Insecure Sherlock, Worried Sherlock) – John enjoys a good brawl during a case, and Sherlock begins to worry - when they retire, will John get bored? Will John get bored and leave. But even if John isn’t a genius about cases, he knows a thing or two about Sherlock’s panic attacks about them as a couple. With only four days till the wedding, he’s not about to let Sherlock continue with this misplaced notion that John will be bored in retirement. Part 20 of Unkissed
Untouched by KittieHill (E, 3,239 w. || Kissing, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock, Body Worship, Sherlock’s Scars Mentioned, Masturbation, PWP, Rimming) – Sherlock leaked a lot. John had never needed lubricant. John loved watching it, had once spent an entire afternoon edging Sherlock so he could watch as the thick precome drip, drip, dripped onto Sherlock’s belly.
Acceptable Behaviour by bbcatemysoul (M, 3,449 w. || Fluff, Dev. Rel., Miscommunication, First Time) – Sherlock isn’t really sure why John wants to shag him, but he’s certain that if he’s careful to behave properly about it, John can be persuaded to keep doing it. In other news, John is a good boyfriend and Sherlock is an idiot.
In Nomine by Atiki (E, 3,517 w. || Est. Rel., PWP, Anal, Domesticity, Love Confessions, Sherlock Loves John, Overwhelmed Sherlock) – “Alright?” John asks gently, planting a kiss on Sherlock’s left collar bone, smoothing a hand down his chest and belly until it rests in the soft trail of hair below his belly button. John’s smile is all soft and warm. His hand feels tender and solid and real. A soldier’s hand. A surgeon’s hand. A lover’s hand. Oh. “John”, Sherlock gasps. And that’s where it begins. Written for a prompt on the Kink Meme: The only word Sherlock says during sex is “John”.
MR# 1430155 by blueink3 (T, 3,560 w. || Talks of Parentlock, Baby Watson, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Fluff and Angst) – John paces the length of the not inconsiderable hallway and glances at his phone for the tenth time since he exited the hospital room seven minutes ago. Sherlock’s last text was sent at 5:06pm. It is now 5:39pm. He should be here by now. After all, his daughter is 46-minutes-old and if John is going to share this momentous event with someone, it sure as hell isn’t going to be the woman who just gave birth to her.Part 5 of Tumblr Prompts
Rumpled by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 3,601 w. || Est. Rel., Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, PWP, Proposal, Bottomlock) – Then, halfway through a documentary on river otters that neither of them was paying attention to–how could John, with a gangly, limp consulting detective practically purring in his lap?–Sherlock suddenly bolted upright, looked at John with a perplexed expression and a crinkle above his nose, and blurted, “Marry me.” Part 4 of Longitudinal Cohort
Last Christmas by Mazarin221b (T, 3,911 w. || Fluff, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss) – That Earth-shaking revelation, then, leads to a problem, and one that Sherlock realizes should be solved quickly, before John’s dates turn into girlfriends or boyfriends, because sometimes girlfriends or boyfriends can turn into wives or husbands while your back is turned. Every time John hums happily at the mirror as he shaves, splashes on a little gift cologne Mrs. Hudson bought him for Christmas, Sherlock is drawn back to that night by the fire, and the way John’s touch had made the world stand still.
Hope Springs Eternal by QuinnAnderson  (T, 4,054 w. || Friends to Lovers, Pining Sherlock, Vacation, Anxious Sherlock, Love Confessions, Fluff, Requited Love) – John Watson and Sherlock Holmes go on holiday, and Sherlock has romance on the brain.
Everything by patternofdefiance (E, 4,409 w. || Snuggles and Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Frottage, Vulnerable Sherlock) – John wakes up with an armful of Sherlock.This – situation – is unusual, yes, and definitely unfamiliar, but in no way does it feel wrong.Rather, it feels the exact opposite. Part 13 of I Blame Tumblr
a violent flash of purple by hudders-and-hiddles (E, 4,749 w. || Sex Toys, Friends to Lovers, PWP, Love Confessions, Porn With Feelings) – When Sherlock accidentally drops his towel, he ends up revealing a whole lot more than he’d intended.
Bed-Sharing Between Flatmates by testosterone_tea (T, 5,053 w. || 5 and Ones, Bed Sharing, PTSD John, Science, Whump, Insecure Sherlock, Asexual Sherlock) – 5 times Sherlock had an excuse to share John’s bed, and the one time he didn’t need one.
The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”
Tease You Till You Come by phoenix089 (E, 6,090 w. || First Time, Clueless Sherlock, Texting) – Initially, Sherlock was rather put out by John’s lack of presence on the case. But then he starts to receive pictures, several of them, of an unexpected nature. The case is forgotten rather quickly after that.
All the Flavours, Cherry and More by cwb (E, 6,274 w. || Est. Rel., Lip Gloss, Lingerie, Birthday Presents, Insecure Sherlock) – Sherlock feels a blush rising to touch his cheeks, more sensual than uncomfortable now that he knows John isn’t disgusted by him. No, John is responding exactly the way he had hoped.
The Inciting Incident by beetlemate (M, 6,291 w. || Masturbation, Embarassed Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Fluff, Friends to Lovers) – John catches Sherlock in a compromising position. With a secret photograph. He absolutely must know what is in that bloody photograph.
The Strait of Juan de Fuca by mightypog (T, 6,400 w. || Vacation, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Canada, Post-TRF, Love Confessions) – Sherlock is back and all seems forgiven, but something is missing between him and John. Their friendship initially appears intact, but Sherlock doesn’t understand why John seems to be slipping away. Finally, in terror, he tries to reconnect with John by taking him to the one place that seems to inspire any emotional interest in John any more: the Canadian wilderness. While there, Sherlock faces his greatest fear.
Inside by magikspell (E, 6,757 w. || Loss of Virginity, Anal / Rimming, Fluff, Humour, Awkwardness, Shy Sherlock, Bottomlock) – “Being inside someone. Feeling someone inside you.”
Abatement by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 6,816 w. || Est. Rel., Retirementlock, Fluff, Sherlock’s Self Esteem, Grumpy Sherlock) – “What’s wrong with you? You love the cottage,” John glances over to the passenger seat, then quickly turns his eyes back to the road. Driving was still not his forte, but considering Sherlock still couldn’t properly bend and lift his new knee enough to press and release the clutch, he had to make do. Not that Sherlock hadn’t tried to argue his way into the driver’s seat. “I love the cottage for a week or two, John. Don’t be deliberately obstuse,” Sherlock grumbles, sinking further in his seat. Well, as best he can with a four-week-old knee replacement. “And that’s all we’re going for, love,” John says out loud. But what he’s thinking is, shit. He knows.
High and Tight, Soft and Loose by cwb (E, 7,429 w. || Jealous John, Miscommunications / Misunderstandings, First Kiss / Time, BAMF John, Insecure Sherlock, Clueless Sherlock, Junk Size, UST / RST) – John pressed the knuckle of his index finger against his mouth and sighed. “So, you’re coiled like a spring and ready to be … sprung?” “If you want to be pedestrian about it, yes.” “Like I said, you should do something about that.” “And like I said, pedestrian. What would you have me do? Take up jogging? Yoga? Oh! Unless you mean –” “I don’t mean anything. Let’s drop it.”
The T-Shirt Thief by allroadsleadbacktobakerstreet (T, 7,968 w. || Mutual Pining, Post Canon Fix It, Dev. Rel., First Kiss, Domestics) – Sherlock steals John’s t-shirt from the laundry. John catches him wearing it one evening, fluff ensues with an endeared yet teasing John?
Drive by lifeonmars (M, 9,537 w. || Virginity, Awkward First Times, Minor Injuries) – John and Sherlock are stranded by the roadside, and John is injured. They need to spend the night in the back of a humvee. Sherlock is confused. John is understanding.
The Thin Line by Odamaki (M, 10,809 w. || Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Confessions, First Times, Anal) – John swallows. Keeps his eyes on Sherlock. Begs him not to ruin him.Sherlock leans forward over the witness box ever-so slightly, “I was distracted,” he informs the court, “by my partner, John Watson.”
the first day of forever by darcylindbergh (E, 11,850 w. || Est. Relationship, Domestics, Light Angst, Insecurity, Emotional H/C) – “I’m going to marry you,” John murmurs with against Sherlock’s smile, and they both giggle in the joy of it. “We’re getting married.”“Yes,” Sherlock says, just to hear himself say it out loud. “We are.” A June wedding. Part 4 of things fairy tales are made of
And Here We Are by J_Baillier (T, 12,416 w. || ASiP Fic, Alternating First Person POV, Drama, Friendship, Mild Case Fic, Autism Spectrum Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Protective John, Pining, Homophobia, Loneliness, Angst, Humour, Domestics, Morbid Fluff, Kidnapping) – All the little things we never got to see when an army doctor and a consulting detective were adjusting to sharing a flat. And a life.
Let’s Make a Bed Out in the Rain by theimprobable1 (M, 17,664 w. || Pining Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, First Kiss, Unrequited, Jealous Sherlock, Protective Sherlock) – John is devastated after his long-term girlfriend leaves him. Sherlock helps him through it.
For you, there’s only me by shock_blanket (E, 19,557 w. || Jealous Idiots, Virgin Sherlock, UST/RST, Pining, Miscommunication, First Kiss / Time, Insecure Sherlock, Masturbation) – Sherlock realizes he has fallen in love with John, but believes he is unlovable. Cue lots of pining and jealousy on Sherlock’s part, followed by our favorite cuddly marksman making it all better. Because for Sherlock, there’s only John.
A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.
The Real Meaning of Idioms by feverishsea (T, 21,691 w. || Texting, Humour, Post S2, Awkward Romance) - After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn’t expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.
5 Times John Got the Girl (and lost her) and 1 Time John Got the Guy (and kept him) by LiviKate (M, 21,695 w. || 5 and Ones, Kissing, Oblivious / Awkward Sherlock, BAMF / Sexy / Stud John, Embarassed John, John’s Scar, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Sherlock) – John has always had good luck with the ladies. He’s charming, friendly and funny, not to mention great in bed. However, his usual skill with the opposite sex is constantly being thwarted by Sherlock and his outbursts. How will John ever get a leg over when Sherlock is always cockblocking him?
State of Flux by Atiki (E, 24,655 w. || Sherlock POV, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Cuddles and Snuggles, Awkwardness, Insecure/Virgin Sherlock, Romance) – John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they’re both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.
An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased.At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.
a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of
Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara’s American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she’s also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she’s placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.
A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.
Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can’t help but wonder if he’s imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn’t getting cold feet about the wedding… Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series
In the Still of the Night by SilentAuror (E, 42,234 w. || S4 Fix It / Post-S4, Sherlock POV, Angst, Drama, Romance, Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Misunderstandings / Miscommunications, Case Fic, Travelling, Pining) – As locals on the Northeastern coast begin to report UFO sightings, life at Baker Street becomes significantly awkward as John brings up his desire for more than friendship and Sherlock refuses him. They embark on the investigation from the confines of the tiny cottage Mycroft has rented for them, attempting to navigate both the clues of the case as well as their own inability to communicate…
Bedroom Tales by Junejuly15 (M, 49,950 w. || Friends to Lovers, Through the Years, H/C, Military Kink, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Insecure Sherlock, Voyeurism, Post-TRF, Ficlets, Fluff and Angst, Fix-It Fics) – Bedroom Tales is a collection of John and Sherlock ficlets. They are set at various stages of their relationship and are in no particular order. Some are fluffy, some sexy, some angsty, there is hurt and comfort, romance and love. What unites them is that they all play in a bedroom, but not necessarily the one in 221B.
In the Dark Hours by hubblegleeflower (E, 51,639 w. || Friends to Lovers, Unreliable Narrator, Closeted Bi John, Angst, Miscommunications, Slow Burn, First Time, John’s Blog / Epistolary) – John, wounded and silent, drifts back to Baker Street for healing…and then goes home again. He visits, gets more upbeat, chattier, smiles, jokes… and still goes home again. Sherlock wants him to move back in - it just makes sense - but John shows no signs of doing so. This is the story of how John and Sherlock learn to say what needs to be said when they’re both so very, very rubbish at talking.
floating through a dark blue sky by Lediona (M, 58,966 w. || Notting Hilll AU || POV John, Celebrity Sherlock, First Date / Time / Kiss, Past Drug Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending) – Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant – but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day.
The Book of Silence by SilentAuror (E, 60,056 w. || S4 Fix It / Post S4, Virgin Sherlock, Rosie / Parentlock, Domesticity, Fluff, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, First Person POV) – As spring blooms in London, John and Sherlock begin to take new cases and cautiously negotiate this new phase of life with John living at Baker Street again. Despite how well it’s all going, John struggles to forgive himself for the way he treated Sherlock following Mary’s death as well as trying to figure out how to finally put his long-time feelings for Sherlock into words. Part 1 of The Book of Silence/Rosa Felicia
Scars by SilentAuror (E, 60,493 w. || Rape / Non-Con / Abuse, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dub Con Elements, Homophobia, Angst With Happy Ending, Mary is Not Nice) – S3 rewrite, showing Mary’s manipulation of John as he realizes his love for Sherlock. Mary is not having it.
Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}
Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w. || FutureAU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say: Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC
Breakable by MissDavis (E, 117,627 w. || Established, Fluff/Angst, Depression, Paralysis, Happy-ish Ending) – After John is seriously injured, Sherlock struggles to figure out how to help him, keep himself sane, and maybe, just maybe, get their life back to the way it’s supposed to be. Part 1 of Breakable Not Broken
The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.
Unkissed Series by 221b_hound (T to E, 184,168 w. across 46 works || Established Relationship, Ace Sherlock) – Sherlock returned from the dead a year ago. John returned to Baker Street six months ago. They’ve been in a couple since then. or at least, not NOT a couple. For two smart men, they sure can be dumb. Luckily, an art thief tries to drown Sherlock, Sherlock has a fever dream and things are about to change.
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Izuku x Shy Reader! The reader is one of the many people rooting for Izuku while watching the sports festival. After seeing him in the sports festival he inspired her to work harder to become a hero and even stole her heart. When she runs into the boy she was cheering on, while hanging out at the beach with her friends, she wants to tell him so many things but can’t say them. So she sticks with staring at him with heart eyes until her friends decide to give her a shove in the right direction.
omg this was so cute I could not resist!!!!! I love this so much omg. Also, the reader’ and their quirk is s personalityhighkey based off an oc of mine so I’m doing a lil self-indulgence here lmao. Also I lowkey want to make a part 2 to this
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Ever since that day, you pledged to work harder. What day would that be? The sports festival of course! When you saw his bright green hues full of hope and determination and kindness all at the same time while fighting his opponents, you found a new motivation.
You had always wanted to be a hero, even before your quirk appeared! And when it did you were ecstatic. However, your mother wasn’t so much. Your father had left you and your family to pursue his hero career, only to die in a terrible accident at the height of his career.
Since then, your mother had hated heroes. She knew that they did good, but at the same time, she would not interact with them at all. And she would not let you interact with them.
It was a bit of a sad childhood, but your hopes of being a hero continued to grow exponentially throughout the years. When your younger sister and brothers were born, you vowed to protect them no matter what.
So you trained behind your mother’s back. For years you would go to the gym and train every day. And when the time came for the UA entrance exam, you told her the truth. When you left that day, she as fuming.
By the time you came back, she had packed your bags and put them on the porch outside the house.
You were lucky enough to find an old lady who let you take the smallest apartment in the building she owned in exchange for your work. So when your UA acceptance letter came in, you knew that doing all of that work behind your mother’s back and leaving your family was the right choice, even if it hurt.
But after being in class 1B for a couple months, you couldn’t help but see everyone as if they were on a whole other level. Even though you trained so hard and trained just as much as everyone else, you couldn’t improve.
You began to lose hope. You began to lose confidence. You were even thinking about dropping out after the sports festival. But after seeing his fights, you knew that you had to keep fighting.
He gave you the inspiration and motivation to keep going ahead with your dreams. He reignited the fire in your heart and you would be forever thankful for that.
But the more you trained, the more you thought of him, the more you saw him in the halls or even on the damn news, the more you fell head over heels for him even though you had never talked to him.
So when the UA summer camp was attacked, instead of running away, you chose to fight with Midoriya Izuku on your mind. At the time you were with Tetsu and Kendou. When they chose to go after the source of the gas, you followed the fires.
It was possibly the worst thing you could’ve done.
You got burned that day. Badly. Your shoulder sustained 3rd-degree burns and would be permanently scarred and a portion of your hair was burned.
But a the same time… you didn’t regret doing it. You were able to get two unconscious girls out of the way of danger, scooping them up with your hair. Afterall, your quirk gave you the ability to control your hair, so you might as well use it to protect those around you.
You were let out of the hospital the morning after, your friends from 1B waiting for you. To see their happy and healthy faces made you happy. And you realized just how great it was to be a hero.
——-
“Are you ready for today’s training (Y/N)-chan?” Kendou asked, tying her mask with precise expertise.
You nodded quietly, pulling your costume over your form. A simple black bodysuit and a headpiece that supported your neck and head. It was simple and pretty much unimpressive.
You couldn’t help the sigh that left you as you looked at your figure in the mirror of the locker room.
“What’s wrong (Y/N)-san?” Ibara asked.
You shook your head. “Nothing…I just think I should redo my costume soon. It’s too…bland.”
“Now don’t say that!” Pony exclaimed, jumping on your back. “I think it fits you really well! It’s simple but also very cool! In America, people would say it’s on fleek.” Pony explained with a wink.
You couldn’t help the giggle that left your lips. “Maybe you’re right Pony.”
The girls left the locker room soon after that, the group of 8 making their way to gym gamma. Kendo glanced at your left shoulder, which was bare due to the arms of your costume being temporarily modified for your burn. Although it was completely healed and only the scar was left, you liked having your arms exposed. It gave you a bit more of a unique look and not a Black Widow from Avengers look.
“How’s your scar?” Kendou asked.
“It’s okay.” You said, your voice dropping. “At first I was self-conscious about it, but now I see it as a reminder of my journey to be a hero…so I don’t mind it being on display.” You gave Kendou a wide smile, which she returned.
As you walked into Gym Gamma with the rest of class 1B, you were more than surprised to see class 1A. Your eyes scanned the group of 20 students.”
“Looking for your little crush?” Pony teased, pulling you out of your thoughts.
Your cheeks turned a bright pink as you whirled around to face her. Behind her were Yui and Setsuna, their smirks as apparent as Pony’s sparkly eyes. “W-what?! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You exclaimed.
Sestuna smirked at you, her eyes full of mischief. “As if! You’ve been obsessed with the Mi-”
“Tokage do I need to put you on house arrest?” Vlad king suddenly said in his loud and booming voice that made you jump, even though his threat was aimed at Sestuna and not at you.
“Sorry Sensei.” The green haired girl said, rubbing the back of her head nervously.
You listened to Aizawa explained the exercise to the classes, how we would be fighting one on one with another person from the other class. You couldn’t help the anxiety coursing through your veins as the first pair went through.
“Class 1A is so experienced and good! How can I even put up a fight against any of them?” You thought as Pony and Tokoyami fought. Pony put up a really good fight but in the end, Tokoyami was a bit too strong.
The class continued like this, the heroes in training fighting against each other. Some 1B students even won their battles! but the amount of 1A students winning theirs made you worry.
Sooner than you would’ve liked, all your classmates had already gone leaving only you and the monster of class 1A. Bakugou Katsuki.
“You got this!” Kendou cheered, giving you a pat on your back. You smiled back at her before turning and starting for the arena. However, you were stopped as a foot came down to your trailing hair.
You yelped in pain and looked back. Monoma was the one standing on a chunk of your hair, but he was looking away from you. “Go kick his butt for me.” He said nonchalantly. You smiled and nodded, knowing that this was his way of showing how much he was supporting you. “And learn to pick up your hair for Christ’s sake.” He ordered, stepping off your locks.
Your cheeks turned a bright red in embarrassment but used your quirk to bring your hair up to your shoulders. Your hair was longer than anyone could ever imagine and looked like a huge obstacle in hero work, but it was necessary for your quirk. Afterall, with your quirk, you could control your hair like it was a separate limb, but you couldn’t grow it at will. So it only reached out as long as your hair was- 10 feet and counting.
You stood on the opposite end of the fighting arena, your hair at rest. The second Aizawa yelled out “go”, you charged forward, aiming to grab Bakugou’s legs and swing him out of bounds.
However, he was faster and stronger due to his explosion quirk. He got to you quicker than you expected and sent you flying across the stage with a well-placed explosion to your stomach, but he didn’t knock you out.
Taking a stand from where you stood, you let your hair launch forward, two large chunks striking around him like whips while another two strands attempted to grab at his ankles.
But he was just too good.
Using his explosions he warded off your attacks before launching forward, aiming for your left side, where the chunk of hair in front was still recovering from the burning it took that summer.
He knew it was your weak spot and he was going after it.
Fear overtook you and as your fight or flight response kicked in, you made your choice.
You fled into yourself.
Retracting your hair, you made a shield around yourself before using small bits of your hair and having them stick out of the small ball you made around you so ward off Bakugou.
You flinched as you felt explosions rock through your body over and over again. If you didn’t think of a plan quickly, you’d lose. You couldn’t do that. No, you didn’t want to, especially with both classes watching.
Especially with…
Midoriya watching.
In a single second, you unraveled your barrier, letting your hair swirl around like a crazy hurricane. You internally cheered as a chunk wrapped around Bakugou’s torso. Running past him, you turned and started to throw him out of bounds, only to have him dig his feet into the ground and use the momentum to through you out of bounds.
You groaned as you tumbled across the concrete. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes. The fight didn’t even last 5 minutes.
You gripped at the loose dirt that sat overtop the concrete in an effort to keep your emotions under control.
“Hey, do you need some help getting up?” A gentle voice asked.
You swore your heart stopped. You knew that voice. I mean, how could you forget? Looking up, you were eye to eye with Midoriya Izuku. His hand was outstretched to you.
You nodded slowly and took his hand, letting him practically pull you up himself.
“That was a really good fight you know,” Midoriya said, letting go of your hand.
“What?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “I didn’t even last 5 minutes and my attack just got turned against me. It was a terrible fight.” You shook your head.
“Thanks for trying to make me feel bet-”
“I’m not lying. It was really good! Your quirk is really unique and has so many possible uses!” Midoriya exclaimed, motioning to your (h/c) locks.
You looked between your hair and Midoriya in shock. “Really?”
“Ye-”
“Midoriya please hold off on the geeking out until after class.” Aizawa cut off.
You turned, suddenly remembering that a whole two classes were still in here with you and Midoriya. “Ah! I’m sorry Aizawa-sensei!” As you turned to go back to your own class, a hand clamped down on your wrist.
Looking back your (e/c) met with Midoriya’s green hues. “Can we meet up after class? I’d love to get to know more about your quirk and fighting style.”
You couldn’t help the rosy pink that coated your cheeks at his statement. He wanted to get to know you? Boring old you? You nodded quickly.
“That sounds really nice.”
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