#[points at him and pines and cries and sobs and throws up] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thebestfriendstoloverstrope · 1 year

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i had a big ole inspiration strike in the shower and thought, what if S5 took the interruption trope that the stranger writers love so much for byler but made it vecna? ok bc let's say vecna's watching will (bc he is) and he will definitely try to thwart any character progression will could potentially make that would enable will to grow stronger (and more capable of defeating vecna)... and let's also say that ever since the big rift opened up, micro-fissures in the ground keep opening up randomly, which means you always have to be on your guard bc you never know when a mini rift will open up and make you fall into the upside down...

and let's say mike and will finally (after many episodes of mutual pining and building tension) have their Love Confession moment, and it's building up to it, and after a long conversation of them skirting around the point, will finally finds the courage to softly tell mike, "i think, for me... it's always been you" (with HEAVY romantic implications), and mike looks at him both with so much soft surprise but also so much hope, and mike steps closer to will, placing his hand on his cheek, and begins to say something back, but he doesn't make it past will's name because, SUDDENLY, they both startle as the ground begins to split apart beneath them, and their hands find each other's and they FRANTICALLY try to run away but then a vine lashes out of the upside down and winds itself around will's ankle, yanking him out of mike's grip and dragging him across asphalt into the rift, and mike nearly fell as will got pulled away for him so he's scrambling to get back on his feet, screaming "WILL!" and running after him, trying to grab him, as will cries out to mike and reaches out for mike's hands, but mike's fingertips barely graze will's before will disappears into the upside down, and we get a shot of mike from below as he screams will's name into where he disappeared into the gate

and THEN let's say, an episode later, will is facing off vecna in the upside down, but he isn't succeeding, and vecna's got him suspended in the air as the vines slither up will's body, wrapping themselves around him as they aim to shove themselves down will's throat again, and will is struggling so hard but this feels like this is it and tears are escaping out of tightly shut eyes and it HURTS and he's been in so much pain for so long, and maybe this is the end, and then!

THEN!

out of nowhere, vecna gets blasted away, and the impact breaks his concentration, so the vines release their hold on will and will falls, landing on his side with a gasp, and his eyes fly open to see mike, molotov cocktail in his hand, fury in his eyes, and mike mutters "eat shit, asshole" as he throws another cocktail at vecna. and it won't be enough, will knows that, but all he can think about is that mike is here, and god, does he love him, and as soon as the cocktail leaves mike's hand his gaze flies to will, and mike starts running straight at him, and will stumbles to his feet, and he lets out a "mike," but he can't get any further than that because mike's reached him and he's kissing him. he's got both hands cupped tenderly around will's jaw and he's pulling will's face closer to his and mike's kissing him. and it's all will can do to sob against mike's beautiful lips and bury his own hands into mike's hair, tugging him impossibly closer. and they kiss. they kiss, and they kiss, and will cries, and they kiss some more, and then, too soon, mike's pulling away, leaning his forehead against will's. will fights to catch his breath as mike asks, "you ok?" in the tone of voice he saves for will alone, thumbing away at the tear streaks down will's face, and will just breathes out a laugh. "never better," he replies, and mike laughs too, affectionately brushing his nose against will's.

they breathe the same air for a moment, basking in their finally actualized love, when mike blurts out, "me too", like he's finishing a conversation, and will just blinks at him, confused. "it's always been you for me, too." mike smiles down at him so fondly, and will feels himself tearing up again, his newfound joy so at odds with the hopelessness he felt moments before, and it swells up in him like the dawn breaking, and he doesn't know if he has the space within him to keep this happiness contained. "always has been, and always will," mike confesses into the space between him, and will laughs wetly, cheeks hurting at how big he's beaming, before lifting his face back up to kiss mike again. mike grins against will's lips, then kisses him more and more and more.

will never wants him to stop.

#and then we cut to the party (who joined mike into the ud) who look on in shock #and then dustin breaks the silence by shouting “oh my god it all MAKES SENSE”#and then lucas goes “wdym it makes sense?? where did thid come from??”#and then dustin goes on a huge rant about how mike's behavior about the byers leaving never added up #especially considering he was always complaining about not being able to call even though dustin KNEW mike was getting letters from el #but even then mike never freaked out about el the way he always has about will #no offense el but... it makes sense #and el just smiles and says “no. it does make sense.”#also i headcanon that el knows by now that mike loves will bc when she initiated their breakup she told mike “friends don't lie”#and she was definitely trying to redirect mike“s understanding of where his affections truly lie #anyway rant over #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler s5 #byler fic #kinda #will's love for mike goes hand in hand with his ability to defeat vecna #the more he and mike solidify and embrace their love for each other #the more capable will becomes of defeating vecna #hence vecna's interruption #ok rant truly over now

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borahae-777 · 1 year

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The Truth Untold -- Chapter 8: It's Dangerous, So It's Better

Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook, Yoongi x Jimin

Word Count: Fic in progress, 120k so far. 3k-5k per chapter

Chapter Summary:

Jungkook is sitting on the floor, back leaning up against the foot of his bed. He’s been sitting here for hours staring at the wall, silent tears rolling down his face. Last night may very well have been the worst night of his life. He knows it was a big swing, but he couldn’t sit and pine away once he realized what was happening inside of him. He still feels Taehyung’s lips on his like a brand that’s permanently burned into his skin. At least he’ll always have that, Tae can’t take that from him.

“Me? What could I possibly have to confess?

“Looks like you have some soul searching of your own to do before you get up on your fucking high horse,” Yoongi scoffs. “I really want to be alone for now Kookie, please leave me alone.”

Warnings: Eventual Smut, BDSM, 18+, MxM

Taehyung is curled up in Jimin’s bed with him, sobbing into his arms. He’s been inconsolable ever since Jungkook kissed him last night. He wasn’t focused during the event, he came home afterwards and cried himself to sleep. Today he was finally ready to talk to Jimin about it, but completely lost his composure again.

“Jimin, what am I supposed to do now?” Taehyung manages to hiccup, speaking for the first time in a half hour.

“Tae, I don’t know how to help you with this one. I have no idea why you ran away or why you’re being so stubborn now. This is quite literally both our dreams come true. Jungkookie KISSED YOU. He pulled you away from an event! He must’ve not been able to control himself. That’s amazing. Why did you do that to him?!”

“It’s just not that simple!” Taehyung insists. “I don’t want his attention just because we played a game to manipulate it out of him. How do we know he wasn’t just confusing friendship jealousy for some sort of romantic urge? It’s not like I’ve ever known Jungkook to be attracted to a man. I’m just supposed to throw myself at him when this is entirely out of left field?”

“Maybe he isn’t attracted to MEN. Maybe he’s attracted to YOU. Have you ever considered that? I know a really good way to find out the answers to all your questions.”

“Really?” Taehyung sits up, intrigued.

“Absolutely, honey. You TALK TO JUNGKOOK. I mean, dammit Tae, how do you think he’s feeling right now? He did something incredibly brave, so much more than either of us have ever managed to do. He put himself on the line and you not only ran away, but haven’t spoken to him since. He’s probably incredibly distraught.”

“I KNOW, Minnie. That’s half the reason I can’t sort out my own thoughts,” Taehyung starts heaving with sobs again. “I love that man more than I ever thought I was capable of and now I’m possibly the cause of his heartbreak. The other option is even worse, that I’ve manipulated him into a desperate attempt to not lose his best friend. I feel like the worst person on the planet. I’m so scared.”

“Okay, let’s start there, why don’t you tell me what you’re so afraid of?” Jimin strokes Taehyung’s head as he rocks him in his lap.

“I’m afraid that this isn’t real, that it’s just panic at feeling I was pulling away. I’m afraid that I’ll go talk to him and it will be so awkward and uncomfortable that we can’t work our way out of it. I’m afraid of losing my best friend. I’m afraid of putting the group at risk. I’m afraid of being outed publicly. I’m afraid of what all the hyungs will think of me being gay, let alone what they would think about a couple springing up within the band…”

“Phew. You’re spiraling deep, love. Let’s see what I can tackle here. The first three worries can’t be assuaged unless you talk to him. That’s something I can’t do for you. I can understand fear of being outed in public or fear of somehow ruining the group. I’ve thought through those scenarios myself, obviously. Those are so many steps ahead that there’s no point in upsetting yourself over them now. As far as what the hyungs will think, come on. There’s nothing that any of us could find out about each other that would change a single thing. You know that,” Jimin chides gently.

“Ugh, I know you’re right. I’m just terrified. I keep breaking out in a cold sweat, my chest keeps getting tight, my hands won’t stop shaking. This is possibly the most important conversation I will ever have. This might change all of our lives, whether it goes well or goes horribly. I’m standing at the precipice of a canyon about to step onto a tightrope.”

“You’re so strong, Tae. I wish you could see it. You have more courage than you ever seem to realize. I know you can do this and no matter what happens when you talk to Kookie, I’m going to be right here.”

Taehyung manages to smile up at Jimin and they sit in a comfortable silence scrolling through their phones to try and shake off the heavy emotions.

Bzz. Bzz.

“Uhhh…Yoongi-hyung wants me to meet him in his studio. He said he’s worried about you, that he heard crying coming from your room last night and that you’ve been staring off into space. What do you want me to do with this?” Jimin gets very still and watches Taehyung’s reaction warily.

“...I kind of wouldn’t mind some more input on this.”

“Tae, I shouldn’t be the one to tell him all of this. Don’t you think coming out and sharing your private business with Kook should come from you?”

“Ideally, yes. But I can barely hold myself together talking to you about this. I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of hyung. I trust him and I trust you. He’ll be discreet and he’s very wise.”

“If this is what will help you, I’ll do it. Go back to your room and rest for a while. Use the time to think about what to say to Jungkook,” Jimin squeezes him into a tight hug and lets out a big sigh before standing up and walking out the door.

********

Jimin arrives at the BigHit building and is walking down the hall to Yoongi’s studio, trying to think of the best way to explain what’s going on while still preserving some sense of privacy for his best friends. Who would’ve thought he’d be talking to Yoongi about a potential other couple in the dorm when all he thinks about is them together?

Whatever. Not important. Focus on Tae.

Jimin gets to the door and knocks softly. He wants to make up for their fight by respecting Yoongi’s studio and not punching in the code. When the elder opens the door, he looks like he pulled an all-nighter. His hair is mussed, he has bags under his eyes, and he’s paler than usual.

“Hi hyung, long night?” Jimin teases, glad that they have their rapport back.

“Watch it, Jiminie. That cuteness won’t last forever,” Yoongi quips back.

They walk into the studio and take their usual seats. Yoongi at his desk. Jimin on the couch. He decides to let Yoongi steer the conversation, that way he can decide in the moment exactly how much to share.

“So what’s going on with Taehyung? If telling me anything would betray his confidence, you don’t have to share it with me. I’m just very worried,” Yoongi is frowning and looks like maybe this is why he got no sleep last night.

“I just came from lying with him actually and he gave me permission to share the issue with you, he’s hoping your wisdom could shed some light here.”

“Well, I am very wise. Everyone knows that,” Yoongi strikes an exaggerated pride face and it makes Jimin keel over with laughter.

“Thanks for making me laugh, hyung. It’s been an emotionally draining night,” Jimin takes a deep breath and steels himself for the first nugget of information he’s going to drop. “Jungkook kissed Taehyung last night at Home Party.” He waits for a look of shock on Yoongi’s face. Instead he sees a smirk.

“Heh. That kid. He’s so impressive. Okay, so what’s the issue? Don’t tell me Taehyung is upset because he doesn’t feel the same way. I won’t buy that for a second, he follows Kookie around like a puppy.”

“Hyung…why aren’t you surprised at any of this?”

“Firstly Jimin-ah, I’m much more observant than any of you realize. Secondly, finish your story and I’ll tell you one of my own,” Yoongi refuses to let Jimin change the subject or lead the conversation. Unsurprising.

“Okay. Well. Yes, Taehyung has been in love with Jungkook for years. That isn’t the issue. He’s worried that he was kissed for the wrong reasons. You see, last week he was worried that Kook was figuring out his secret so he asked me to help divert him. Tae and I were in the kitchen helping Jin-hyung with dinner when Kookie walked in and asked to talk to Tae alone. I went with the first idea that came to me and said that Tae was running late for a date, which he managed to play along with at the last second and hurried out. Jungkook was very quiet after that and barely ate at dinner. Later that night when he couldn’t sleep, Tae snuck into Jungkook’s bed to snuggle him like usual and his pillow was wet. The concern is that Kookie is just worried about losing his best friend and being kept in the dark and confused that for attraction,” Jimin decides to stop here for now. He doesn’t know how to talk to Yoongi about fears of being outed or of members’ reactions to couples within the group. That will hurt, maybe he can delay it at least a little bit.

“Oh is that all? Jimin, there’s no way on earth that Jungkook kissed him for the wrong reasons. Trust me. I see the same look on his face that I see on Taehyung’s. Kookie came here to talk to me last week and I may have tried to prompt him into realizing his feelings. During dress rehearsal he was staring at Tae onstage like he was an oasis. I wondered then if he’d taken my words to heart. Then I saw Taehyung choking on his water while you and Kook were up there dancing with Hobi and that’s all I needed to confirm that he was just as gone,” Yoongi is chuckling to himself as he speaks. “So that can’t be the only fear, is there something else?”

Jimin doesn’t respond right away, he stares at the floor and fiddles with his hands. Yoongi doesn’t push him and that’s part of what makes their connection so lovely. He lets Jimin process his thoughts and never rushes him.

“...Tae is worried about the complications of having a couple in the group or being outed publicly somehow and having that put the group at risk. He’s unsure of coming out to the group in general and is probably afraid of what the company would say.”

“YA! That’s exactly what I’ve been telling everyone! Thank you Taehyung for being the only person who understands where I’m coming from!” Yoongi throws his head back and crows at the ceiling.

“Wh-what? What do you mean he understands where you’re coming from?” Jimin feels like a bucket of water has been thrown over his head.

Yoongi immediately goes quiet and goes still. He doesn’t look down from the ceiling and Jimin knows that he’s specifically trying to avoid something uncomfortable. He slides down onto the floor and kneels in front of Yoongi, placing his hands on his knees and hoping he can comfort the elder.

“Hyung, you can tell me anything. I know you probably didn’t mean to blurt that out, it’s the lack of sleep. But it’s out there now and we just got back to a good place, please trust me. I’m here.” Jimin looks up at Yoongi beseechingly, silently pleading for him to look back.

Slowly Yoongi’s hands slide on top of Jimin’s and he begins to lower his head. His eyes are wide and glassy like he’s holding back tears. Their eyes meet and Yoongi looks like a man set adrift. He’s never seen his hyung this way and he doesn’t know what could have shaken him so badly. Yoongi’s hands slowly move from Jimin’s hands to his arms, slowly making their way up into his hair. The look on the elder’s face is painfully vulnerable and Jimin’s breath catches in his throat.

Yoongi pulls him up from kneeling, his big hands at the back of Jimin’s skull and thumbs underneath his jaw.

Yoongi kisses him.

And kisses him.

********

At the same time, he feels like the biggest idiot on the planet. He shouldn’t have kissed someone who’s seeing someone else. He shouldn’t have kissed Taehyung without talking to him about it first. He shouldn’t have done that in such a risky place. He should have stopped and given the entire situation some thought, he was so very selfish at that moment. Taehyung’s lips might be branded onto his, but the look on his face when he ran off is tattooed onto the backs of Jungkook’s eyelids. He’s never seen his best friend look so terrified.

What if Taehyung isn’t even interested in men? I made a stupid assumption based on loose evidence because it was what I wanted to believe. For all I know, his date was with a woman and I just humiliated myself in a way that I don’t know how to come back from.

There’s a knock at the door and Jungkook chooses to ignore it. Whoever it is can go fuck themselves. He’s not talking to his hyungs about this. Ever. He has to bury this way down deep. A second knock comes. Jungkook doesn’t move. A third is starting to sound more frantic and he lets out an annoyed sigh as he stands up. He wipes his face on the bottom of his t-shirt as he makes his way to the door. He opens it just a crack to tell whoever it is to go away when he freezes.

It’s Taehyung at the door. Jungkook utterly panics and slams the door in his face.

“Go away, hyung. Please,” he hates how his voice cracks at the worst possible moment.

“Kookie. Please let me in. We need to talk. Please. Kook-ah…” Taehyung is softly crooning through the door at him. That deep voice making Jungkook’s heart ache. He can’t help himself, he opens the door and lets the other man into the room.

He sits at his desk, unwilling to be sitting anywhere near Taehyung right now. He’s so embarrassed that he can feel his face and ears burning. Tae sits down on the bed and neither of them says anything for what feels like hours, but he knows is only minutes.

“Jungkook, I need to know why you did what you did,” Taehyung’s voice is wavering and a slash of guilt cuts into Jungkook’s skin. He must’ve made his best friend in the entire world so uncomfortable.

“I’m so sorry, Tae. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want me to or that you even like men or that it wouldn’t scare you off like it did. I feel so stupid, please forgive me. Please,” Jungkook breaks down, his head falling onto his desk.

“Answer the question,” Taehyung murmurs softly.

“Why do you think I kissed you, Tae? Why does anyone ever kiss someone else? I wanted to. I’ve been slowly realizing lately that I feel something for you. I’m not quite sure how to define it yet. All I know is I didn’t like the idea of you on a date and I couldn’t sleep that night until you came into my room in the early hours. All I know is I couldn’t take my eyes off you when you were on stage yesterday. All I know is hearing how proud you were of me after my performance made me feel better than the cheers of every single fan there combined. All I know is that when I kissed you, I felt it down to my toes,” Jungkook bursts out loudly. He knows he’s rambling and Taehyung isn’t saying anything. His stomach drops.

“I’ve been wracked with guilt ever since you ran out of the room, Tae. I’m so sorry. I can’t lose you,” he can’t bring himself to look up at what Taehyung’s face might look like right now.

“How…how did you gather up the courage to do that? To kiss me?”

Tae’s question makes Jungkook look up sharply. The other man is staring at him with a look on his face that is very close to awe. For a moment, Jungkook is at a loss for words. He has to stop and think about how to answer the question.

“Honestly, I didn’t really let myself have the time to worry. The minute I realized that I had to kiss you, I just…did it. Why? Do you need advice for your next date?” There’s no bitterness or attitude in Jungkook’s question. He’ll help Taehyung with someone else if that’s what it takes to repent.

“Advice? No, Kook-ah. I don’t need advice. There was no date.”

“...what?! You lied to me? Why would you do that? Do you know how deeply that hit me? Was Jimin in on it or did you lie to him too?” Jungkook is hit with a sharp pang of anger. This isn’t what he expected at all and he’s completely unprepared.

“That’s what I came here to talk to you about. Jimin was just trying to help me. When he told you that he’s in love with Yoongi-hyung I realized that I had told you we had similar issues to deal with. I was afraid of what pieces you might put together and I kind of asked Jimin to help me…throw you off. I didn’t know how he’d do it and in the moment I went along with it. I shouldn’t have. That wasn’t right.”

“What pieces, hyung?”

Taehyung looks back down at his hands and starts twirling his rings around his fingers. Jungkook knows his habit well, it only comes out when Taehyung is at his most vulnerable. He knows better than to poke. He waits patiently.

“I was worried…that you’d figure out that we both had feelings for someone in the group,” Taehyung is speaking so quietly that Jungkook barely hears him. His stomach drops at the words. Does he dare hope that Taehyung is talking about him? He looks down at his hands too, unable to take the tension that’s hanging heavy in the room. Suddenly a hand comes into his field of view and places itself between both of his.

“Kookie, look at me. I have another question.”

Jungkook starts to tremble as he slowly looks up at Taehyung.

“Can we try that again?”

********

Yoongi can hardly believe that this is happening.

Please, please don’t let this be another dream.

He knows deep down that it isn’t. This is real. He kissed Jimin and Jimin is kissing him back. He couldn’t stop himself. He put his foot in his mouth and knew he had no choice but to finally come clean. He had been stuck inside his head trying to figure out how to word it in a way that wouldn’t scare the boy away. Then Jimin came over to him and knelt on the floor. Why did he have to kneel in front of him? How could one person look so angelic and so devilish at the same time?

Jimin’s lips feel nothing like they did in his dream. They feel ten times better. They fit perfectly, each contour molding to his. They’re full and warm and so soft. Something clicks inside Yoongi then.

This is right. This feels right. It’s time to stop running from it.

Yoongi pulls back, running his thumbs over and over across Jimin’s cheeks. The younger’s eyes are wide, pupils blown. His cheeks are pink and rosy and Yoongi feels a warm smile stretch across his face. Jimin is so goddamn beautiful.

“Whoa…”Jimin breathes out.

“I know. Um. Was that okay?”

“That was more than okay. But I’m confused. What’s going on?”

Thank god Jimin is receptive, but how to explain everything to him without embarrassing himself? Yoongi explains to Jimin what the past month has been like for him, leaving out the part where Jungkook caught him waking up from a wet dream. Jimin definitely doesn’t ever need to know that.

“…but Jimin, I don’t know what I’m doing. I have all the same fears that Tae does. But I’ve never been attracted to a man. Have you?”

“Hyung…I’m only attracted to men.”

Yoongi is really trying to keep his mind from wandering, but Jimin is lowered back into a kneel in front of him and just called him ‘hyung’. Yoongi has a flashback to his dream where suddenly the word turned him on. He can feel the front of his pants growing tighter.

No. No. Don’t start now.

“I really haven’t been ready to wrap my head around the pull I’ve felt towards you. I suppose I’m bisexual or pansexual or who the hell knows what? I don’t know how to navigate this.”

“Why do you have to? You don’t need a label. Just feel what you feel.”

Yoongi is amazed at how calm and secure the younger man is in his identity. Maybe Jimin will be able to help him with his. Who knows where everything could go from here?

“As much as I want to spend the rest of the night kissing you silly, we should probably get back to talking about the maknaes,” Yoongi presses his forehead against Jimin’s as he pulls him to his feet. He watches him walk back over to the couch and finds himself amazed at every graceful movement Jimin makes. The way he moves is music.

“Okay. So. How are we going to fix this mess between Tae and Jungkookie, hyung? I’m hoping Tae is in his room right now trying to come up with the words to say to break the ice.”

“Well, I was thinking-“

Bzzzzzt. Bzzzzzt. Bzzzzzt.

Yoongi looks over and sees his phone ringing, having to do a double take to make sure it isn’t another alarm waking him up from an amazing dream. Instead he sees Namjoon’s name flashing on the screen.

“It’s Joon, I’d better pick this up. One second. Hello?”

********

“Yoongi-hyung. I was looking for Taehyung, but he wasn’t in our room. I figured he was with Jungkook so I knocked on the door. There was no answer but I heard some kind of noise. So I decided to walk in to make sure Kook was okay and…him and Taehyung jumped apart the second they heard the door click. I think they were kissing. What the hell?”

Namjoon’s stomach is in knots. What is happening within his group? First Yoongi, now the maknaes. It’s all a lot to wrap his head around. He stands by what he said to Yoongi in that hotel room. Anyone should be able to love anyone. But seeing it with his own eyes has made him deeply uncomfortable. He’s not proud of it, but he may not be as progressive as he thinks.

“WHAT?! How the hell did that happen so fast?!” Yoongi exclaims through the phone, then mumbles something that Namjoon can’t hear.

“I didn’t catch that last part, hyung.”

“Sorry Joonie, I was telling Jimin.”

“Jimin is there?! I don’t think this is our news to spread around…”

“No, no Jimin came here specifically to talk about this. We both knew to begin with.”

“What do you mean KNEW?! How long has this been going on?”

“It’s a long story Namjoon, can we talk about this later? Jimin and I were in the middle of something. Are you okay?”

“…in the middle of something? Don’t tell me you finally confessed. This is all too much.”

“I did…in a way. You were right. Everything is going to be okay.”

“No it’s not. You and Jimin need to come home right now. I need to talk to you two and to the maknaes. None of you are thinking clearly and I’m not going to have a bunch of secrets kept around here. What am I supposed to do with the fact that over half the band is trying to start hooking up? What am I supposed to tell the company? Now I’m going to have to police all four of you in front of every camera and at every public appearance? No, none of this is okay right now. Come home. Non-negotiable,” Namjoon hangs up the phone without letting the elder get a word in edgewise. He’s hyperventilating and the stress of all the possible consequences from this night is weighing him down.

His phone rings in his hand and he barely bothers to look at it, assuming that it’s Yoongi-hyung calling to admonish him for being so rude. To his surprise, it’s Bang PD’s name flashing across his screen.

“You need to come to my office first thing tomorrow morning Namjoon,” the head of the company doesn’t even let Namjoon get a greeting out before he speaks. He’s never heard the man sound so severe.

“Is everything okay? Just me?”

“Just you. No, everything is not okay. Do you boys really think those dressing rooms don’t have cameras in them? You’re lucky I happened to look at this tape before any of the staff. This is a disaster.”

“Tape? Dressing room? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Namjoon is more confused than ever. What is going on?

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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Bring On The Wonder, We Got It All Wrong, We Pushed Us Down Deep In Our Souls, So Hang On

Batsis x Ghost-Maker One-Shot

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: This is a direct continuation of this piece right here that everyone got mad at me for because I made it angsty :) Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“Will you slow down?” Bruce complained, reaching her in a few steps. “Your ankle is sprained and you’re going to—”

She turned on him, slapping his hand away from where it was reaching for her. “I don’t wanna look or talk to you or anybody else right now.” She spat. “Take the hostages to GCPD and leave me the fuck alone.”

“He wasn’t going to kill you.” Bruce said and she scowled.

“It doesn’t matter what he was or wasn’t going to do.” She pointed to herself. “I thought he was going to. That’s what matters to me.” She turned and took a step, though her leg faltered, and she went to her knees, reaching to hold her ankle. “Fuck,” she hissed. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“(Y/N),” he murmured, bending down beside her and she reached up, yanking the cowl off.

“Everything hurts,” she cried, anger and pain lacing her voice. “My back hurts. My chest hurts. Everything fucking hurts.” She reached up to wipe the blood still leaking from her busted nose and split eyebrow. “And I’m bleeding.” (Y/N) licked her lips, feeling the sting from the broken skin of her bottom one.

Bruce’s hand went to his utility belt, unclipping one of the pockets, and he pulled out a rag; he gently raised it to her eyebrow, dabbing at the blood as he quietly stated, “Your eyebrow’s already in hemostasis. Though it’s going to need stitches.” His hand briefly stilled near her swollen eye, then he continued to her nose where he gently held it.

She whimpered, trying to recoil but he held on. “That hurts.”

“You need to stop the bleeding,” he advised, then grabbed her hand and placed it over his, forcing her to take it.

“What are you doing?”

Bruce didn’t answer her, one arm curling under her knees, the other her back and he hefted her up into his arms. “I’ll take you back to your penthouse.”

(Y/N) wanted to cry, and she was helpless to stop the tears that gathered in her eyes; she turned, burying her face in the plate of her brother’s shoulder pad, breathing deeply to keep her sobs at bay.

“I don’t know what’s going to come after this,” he explained softly, careful to take even steps to avoid jostling her. “But I know that you’re the only one who gets to choose what happens between you and him.” He rested his chin on her head. “And if you choose to take a leave for a while, then I’ll support that.”

She let out a shuddering breath. “I just want to crawl in a hole.”

“Want me to get my shovel and dig you one?”

A watery laugh passed her lips, though it dissolved into a sob and with her free hand, she reached over and grabbed Bruce’s opposite shoulder, squeezing tightly as she shook against him.

He inhaled deeply, catching Ghost-Maker from the corner of his eye leading the hostages out. “We’re going to be okay, (Y/N).”

***

Turns out that the leave of absence seemed like the best choice for her, and she’d hunkered down in a safe-house about three hundred miles outside of the state on the edges of the McIntyre Wild Area in Pennsylvania. Bruce and she had bought it years ago as a last-ditch effort if they needed to get out of Gotham and it’d taken the two of them, plus Clark to clear it out and build. Half of the time was having Clark laugh at the two siblings and call them “city-slickers trying to be country folk” as he watched them struggle to tame the land.

But in the end, it had been effective, and they’d built a rather cozy safe-house that looked inconspicuously like Ma and Pa Kent’s home in Smallville. It was stocked with everything they needed, a built-in basement for safe measures. She was alone and secure in the small cabin and that’s how she wanted to be. Since leaving some few days ago, she’d messaged each nephew and niece telling them that while she loved them dearly, she needed to be alone for some time and that she’d be back as soon as she could be.

They’d flooded her phone with messages and concerns, but she’d left the device in her penthouse before leaving, resting assured that Bruce would explain in her absence. She felt like a failure and more so, weak for leaving her brother with the job of explaining, but the last thing she wanted to do was explain the situation herself.

She sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, gazing absentmindedly as the flames cast light that flickered around the darkened room. The entire room was open, living room and fireplace in the center, bedroom in one corner, kitchen in the other, a closed bathroom in another. It all smelled like pine. Fresh air and the ingraining scent of pine. But it’s what she needed. Gotham City overwhelmed the olfactory senses with blood and smog and on especially bad days, the rotting scent of fish and death. Everyone needed a break from it at some point in their life; to remember how to breathe in air that wasn’t contaminated.

The only thing she didn’t like was how quiet it was. (Y/N) was used to the distant sounds of traffic, gunshots, and sirens. Here it was the sound of her breathing and the wind whistling through the trees, wildlife scratching and hunting away in the underbrush. She swore she could hear her blood flowing through her brain. If there was any consolation, it did help to hone the senses on what she wanted to hear. And what she didn’t want to hear was knocking at the front door.

Quietly she rose from the couch and walked to the side of her bed, grabbing the loaded twelve gauge; she cocked it and stepped up to the door, warning, “If you’re not park rangers, I suggest you leave now. I’m armed and I will shoot you.”

A muffled chuckle sounded from the other side. “Well, that’s not the way I figured you’d greet me.”

“Oh, so you were expecting the shotgun blast then?” she answered aiming at the door and she pulled the trigger, blasting a large hole in the center of the wooden door. (Y/N) waited until the smoke cleared before she walked up and bent down, peeking through to see him flat on the ground, unharmed, reflexive as ever.

“Damn,” she griped. “I really thought I was going to beat you that time, K.”

Ghost-Maker cocked his head up and she was sure he was glaring at her from beneath the mask. “You crazy—”

“Bitch?” (Y/N) finished. “Tell me about it.” She set the gun next to the door and stood up, flipping the lock before pulling it open. “What do you want.”

“Well, I was coming to see you,” he said, picking himself off the ground; dusting himself off, he added, “You wouldn’t answer me.”

“Huh, I wonder why?” (Y/N) questioned, pressing her finger to her chin in mock thought, then her face lit up and she exclaimed, “Maybe it was because you tried to kill me a week ago!”

“I wasn’t going to kill you.” He griped. “You know I wasn’t going to.”

“Noted. What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you and if you’re smart, you’ll leave before I decide to reload the gun.”

Ghost-Maker sighed, gazing at her. “I was using Kyusho Jitsu to slow you down until Bruce arrived.”

(Y/N) wanted to scream, but she kept her voice level. “And that somehow justifies splitting both lips, one eyebrow, busting my nose, and throwing me into an electric fence?”

“…No,” he murmured. “No, it doesn’t.” He looked at her. “But I was concerned that if I didn’t make it look like we were really trying to kill one another, Riddler was going to kill the hostages.”

She merely stared at him for a long moment. “You know, I used to think I knew when you were telling the truth, but now that I really think about it, I don’t know when you’re lying to me either.”

He stood to his full height, jaw tightening as he said, “I’m many things, but I’m not a liar, (Y/N). And I’d never lie to you.”

“I don’t believe you,” she shot back, face pinching as she finished with, “And you can sleep outside.”

She shut the door and turned around, walking to the bed in the corner and he looked through the hole in the middle. “You know I can just come inside if I want?”

(Y/N) laughed, stripping the shorts and long shirt she had on before climbing into the bed. “You take one step in here and I’ll cut your penis off and nail it to your forehead.”

“Hmm…have it your way,” he decided, turning around and she had as she tried, she couldn’t block out the sound of him setting up his blanket and bedding on the porch.

Hopefully, he’d be gone in the morning.

***

A crack of thunder startled her awake and she sat up in the bed, looking out the window to see the rain beating down. Her eyes drifted to the hole in the door and for a moment, she wanted to get up and see if he was okay, but she felt a bolt of irritation flash through her and she huffed, flopping back down into the bed, yanking the covers over her head.

She laid there for a few minutes, listening to the thunder clap above her, the lightning illuminating the room ever other moment, then she groaned, cursing herself for being a good person deep, deep down. (Y/N) threw the covers off her and rolled out of the bed, hurrying to the door. Pulling it open, she couldn’t help but smile at the man curled up in his thoroughly soaked blanket.

“Come inside.” He said nothing in return, and she sighed, kicking him in the stomach. “I know you’re awake, K. Get in here.”

“I thought you didn’t want me inside,” he retorted, yet to pull the blanket off his head.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I don’t. But I’d be a terrible person if I let you get pneumonia.”

“You know you can’t catch that from rain, right? It’s caused by—”

“Fine. Stay out here for all I care,” she interrupted, starting to close the door and he sat up, scrambling for the inside.

“Wait!” She smirked and he craned his neck up at her to scowl. “You did that on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” (Y/N) retorted, cracking the door open more so he could get inside. He sat against the door when she closed it and she leaned against the door frame, watching the water drip down his soaked body.

“Want a change of clothes?” she asked. “Bruce left some behind the last time he was here.”

“Thank you,” he said, and she walked over to the dresser, pulling out a pair of boxers and an undershirt.

She turned, seeing him yanking off his shirt and pants, then tossed the clothes to him. “Here.”

He caught them. “I’m not wearing his boxers.”

“They’re new, jack-ass.” (Y/N) snorted, looking away so he could dress himself, then she glanced back. “Feel better?”

“I feel less cold,” he retorted, walking around the fireplace to toss another couple logs inside. “You’re letting the fire die out.”

She rolled her eyes and wandered into the kitchen, returning with a clean rag. “You’d be less cold if you took the mask off and toweled your hair.”

He looked up at her, watching, waiting, and since he didn’t stop her from reaching behind him, she untied the knot at the base of his skull, pulling the damp fabric away.

(Y/N) wiped the water from his face, softly brushing over his cheeks, then to his eyebrows, and when she was satisfied, she placed the towel on his head, and gently massaged his scalp, letting the towel soak up all the rainwater.

When she was done, she tossed it aside and sank onto the brick wraparound with a heavy sigh, eyes drifting to the wall. Ghost-Maker collapsed against her legs, resting his head back on her thighs; unconsciously, (Y/N)’s hands went to his hair, stroking the brown tresses.

After a few minutes, he murmured, “I apologize for not telling you the plan.”

Her hands stilled for a moment before continuing their ministrations. “I accept your apology.” She scratched his scalp. “Sorry for what I said.”

“It didn’t hurt my feelings,” he shrugged, and she tugged his hair.

“Yes, it did.” He tipped his head back, gazing at her. “Parade it around all you want but we both know you’re not immune to having your feelings hurt.”

Ghost-Maker searched her eyes. “You truly thought I was going to kill you?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) answered. “Everything was happening so quickly. I didn’t have time to think about what fighting style you were using on me. All I knew was that you weren’t pulling punches and it didn’t feel like a plan to me.”

She stared at him. “And I was scared of you.”

“Are you scared of me now?” he questioned, and she inhaled then exhaled.

“No.” He seemed relieved, but it was short lived as she added, “But I don’t trust you anymore. And I don’t know how long it’s going to be before I do again.”

He looked away. “I see.” Nothing was said for a moment, and he pulled from her, standing to his feet. “It’s late. We should rest.”

(Y/N) stood and started making her way to the bed when she realized he was going too. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“Going to bed?” Ghost-Maker offered, and she cocked a brow.

“Try again, K.” She pointed to the couch. “Go.”

His face pinched and he turned, but she caught his hand and he stopped, glancing back at her. (Y/N), against the better judgement in her head and the obvious discomfort between the two of them, stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her forehead to the middle of his chest.

He seemed to freeze at the sudden action, even if it’d been one, they’d done many times, but he recovered, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other around the back of her neck. His cheek brushed her temple and her grip shifted, hands coming up to press flat against his shoulders; with the warmth stinging the corners of her eyes, she dug her nails into his back as if it were the one thing keeping her from breaking down.

She wanted to say it. Wanted to tell him how angry she was. How hurt. How much loathing was built up inside of her, but nothing would come out.

“I know,” Ghost-Maker murmured against her hair. “I know what you’re thinking, (Y/N), and I know.” He pulled back, hand slipping from her neck to cup her cheek; he pressed his forehead to hers and assured quietly, “I know.”

(Y/N)’s eyes slipped shut and she let out a shaky breath. “Tomorrow,” she whispered, and he nodded.

“Tomorrow.” He let her go and watched as she unsteadily headed for the bed, collapsing onto the mattress; she tugged the blankets over her head, and he frowned as he saw her frame start to shake beneath them. Pulling the blanket off the couch, he laid down and watched her for some time. Waiting until she stopped shaking and slipped off into sleep so he himself could sleep too.

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youryanderedaddy · 3 years

Text

Honey dripping

Yandere! Jumin Han x reader

tw: nsfw, murder, non-con, dub-con, mentions of cheating, mentions of blood, slight sugar daddy vibe, dirty talk, degradation, mention of threats

Summary: Your boyfriend provides everything for you and the only thing he expects in return is your love and loyalty. So of course when you fail to give him that, he gets a little angry.

It was useless - all your struggling and pained little pants. Nothing could stop the brutality unfolding before your eyes, glossy with tears. They were red and sore from the crying, but your despair wasn’t enough to melt his cold black heart. You knew that it was your fault and now someone had to pay the price. You couldn’t deny it, not when it was obvious to the outside gaze exactly what had happened while your loving caretaker was away, working hard to support you and give you anything your heart desired. The bed was messy with the white sheets all crumbled and the smell of adultery in the air still heavy and thick. No pretty words and sweet talking could get you out of the sticky situation this time around.

“Please, tell them to stop!” You whispered, looking at Jumin with the big doe eyes you used when you wanted something to go your way. You even gently touched his hand, trying to wrap your fingers around his to calm him down, only to be met with a cold empty stare of disgust in return. It pierced through your heart like a thousand sharp arrows and your throat tightened in fear as you watched the bussinessman’s bodyguards beat your lover into a sweaty mess of flesh, snot and blood, weeping on the floor. The poor unfortunate soul was two punches away from the afterlife and there was no one to blame, but yourself. Shivers ran through your body from the cold and you realized you were still half - naked, the only thing protecting your most intimate parts being the oversized shirt of the dying man. Jumin glared at you for a long moment, studying the soft features of your delicate face before making an important decision.

“Kill him.” He finally ordered, voice monotone and unbothered by the inhuman whim. With a quick snap of his slender fingers the CEO-in-line had your paramour lifeless, dead on the ground. It happened so fast you found it hard to process down the murder, despite seeing clearly the unmoving figure and all the red sticky liquid he was drowned in. A hard lump stuck at the back of your throat, making it hard to swallow or even breathe, but the panic rising in your chest went unnoticed by Jumin, who was ready to turn his full attention to you, pining you with his cruel gray eyes. “I thought you were different.” He started off slowly, moving closer to you. “You were always so sweet and innocent I almost fell for your little tricks.” The man smiled bitterly, the sadness reflecting in his pupils as he took another step towards you. Now you could feel his big hands grabbing at your hips, drawing you in, and his hot breath on your neck - but he didn’t bite just yet. “I should have known better, that’s on me. After all you are just like those women who use my father for his money and status.” He whispered into your ear as he dig his nails deep into you bare thighs, squizing the naked flesh roughly. “You may be a cheap lying whore, but I still love you.” The bussinessman scratched at the vulnerable skin on your lower body before placing a small wet kiss on your collarbone. “I have invested so much in you, darling, but you seem to have forgotten that.” Jumin finally raised his head, smashing his lips onto yours, pushing his tongue all the way in, leaving you breathing hard and brushing off the saliva running down your chin. “I will teach you what happens when you forget your place, kitten.”

WIth that the man dragged you towards the unmade bed, a harsh reminder of your betrayal, and despite all your squirming and pulling away, begging him to let you go, soon he had you pinned onto the mattress with your wrists trapped beneath his. The director wasted no time in ripping apart the clothing, soaked with the smell of another man. The swift aggressive move left you fully exposed and bare in front of the hungry lustful monster, the fear and andrenaline in your veins turning everything into a hazy mess of ugly emotions and silent sobs. You tried to close your legs, but the attempts to cover yourself were fruitless as the rich man simply tied your thighs, spreading you all to himself. Jumin couldn’t help running a finger up your slit, circling the small sensitive bud in the center until he felt your walls clench around his forefinger, and eventually it came out wet.

“How interesting.” The director stated, smirking with malice. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore, but your body is pointing otherwise.” You whimpered at his words, but your body gave you away as your hips rocked in the air in hopes of finding more stimulation. “I just killed your lover and your wet little pussy still wants me to fill it up, kitten.” Jumin started undoing his belt, taking out his member, hard at the sight of you so open and flustered, ripe for the taking. With one hand he groped your breast, messaging it gently, pulling slightly at the stiff raspberry tip, while the other kept fingering you in a steady pace.

“J-jumin!” You cried out in pleasure despite your best efforts to stay quiet while he played with your body like it was just another one of his possessions. It was humiliating, infuriating even, but there was nothing you could do except lay there and take it like a good little doll. You couln’t even fight off the moans coming out of your scarlet lips because his touch felt so good in such a wrong way. “Please, I am sorry! D-don’t do this to me.” You sobbed, letting the logical part of your brain speak as your cunt twitched in the upcoming orgasm that soon washed over you in one powerful wave. It was painfully satisfiying and left you panting heavily, trying to catch your breath.

“You want me to stop?” The bussinessman suddenly pushed the head of his throbbing member into your entrance, but stopped to look you straight in the eyes. There was no sight of defiance in them, only guilt and desperation - and to him you were the prettiest when needy, broken down and obedient for him. The tears were streaming down your face leaving a salty red trace on your puffy cheeks, and he licked it, running his tongue slowly and teasingly on your hot skin. “If you hate it so much, then, perhaps, you won’t come all over my cock like a little slut, yeah?” Jumin replied huskily, sucking and biting at your neck until several lovebites in all shades of blue and purple were formed, like a collar. The man then forced his lenght into your responsive hole without giving you the time to get used to it properly. Your expression changed from pleasure to pain and you whimpered in agony while the CEO-in-line shoved himself mercilessly into your heat, hitting the overstimulated nervs over and over again. Despite the initial discomort and shock your body managed to relax under the rough treatment and after a few minutes you started to arch your back to meet the harsh punishing thrusts.

“Look at you.” He spoke out, the coldness in his voice piercing your skin while you watched the sweat cover his pitch black hair. “ You are moaning like a dumb little slut while I fuck you silly even though you should be fighting be off. ” The director squeezed your tits, rocking his hips faster and faster - he was very close. “And now I am going to blow my load into you and mark you as mine.” The bussinessman kept hitting your sweet spot, abusing the sensitive place with his manhood. “We will do it together, I will count. You are not allowed to come before me.” The man commanded sternly without losing speed or strenght, staring at you with an intense gaze filled with lust, obsession and adoration. “One, two...” He lowered himself onto your tight hole as he kissed you passionately, invading your mouth with his wet tongue. “Three.” Jumin thrusted lastly before releasing the white thick liquid into your pussy. “Cum for me, my love.” He whispered softly into your ear while playing with your hard nipples. “Cum while I fill you up with my seed.” The bussinessmen kept stirring you up, teasing you, until he felt your cunt clench down, throbbing with need. You finally orgasmed, throwing your head back during the high of the terribly delightful sensation. You closed your eyes - there was nothing left to do or say after the violation.

“Your punishment has come to its end now.” You heard his cold voice from far above you and it felt awfully distant but at this point you didn’t care. You just wanted to qucikly fall asleep and drift away to a different place. Somewhere warm and cozy where no one could hurt you. Unfortunately, his last sentence caught your attention. “But if you ever betray me again, I won’t be so loving anymore. What goes around comes around. Beware, darling.”

#male yandere x reader #yandere jumin x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere mystic messenger #yandere jumin han #yandere male x reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere fanfiction #yandere smut #yancore #yandere one shot #yandere prompt

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wonderwomanfantasy · 3 years

Text

tangled strings attached

ooooo Daddy is working through some shit in this one

Todoroki x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of suicidal thoughts, arguments, oh yeah, and ABO

word count: 1,000 (about)

summary: Todoroki has some fucking issues

Shoto appreciated the mountains more than he thought he would. It wasn’t quite like he was expecting. But loud with the sound of bugs and birds and wind. He was alone on the back porch looking out at the army of pine trees in front of him and the millions of stars above him.

It was a bad mission, some villain with a mind control quirk had gotten into his head and really messed with him. He’d hurt his friends so easily and so ruthlessly. He looked down at his hands. Shoto had always been one to shoot first and ask questions later, he thought he could trust his gut and that his instincts made him a good hero.

He couldn’t stop reliving those awful moments in his head where he had attacked the people he was supposed to take care of. Even if it wasn’t him in control, the attack was from his point of view. His friends had forgiven him, he couldn’t help but think they shouldn’t have.

The agency had sent him on mandatory rest in the mountains far away from the city to ‘clear his mind’ but all he could do was think. He was hurting people and the worst part was no one seemed that surprised about it, no one looked at him with disgust or horror like-. Like they had expected he’d turn out this way. Was he turning into his father?

“Shoto? What are you doing up?” you yawned rubbing your eyes and coming to his side. He felt himself melt. He couldn’t help himself. You were his sweet little omega and you had dropped everything to be with him. You didn’t want him to be out here all by himself. You sleepily moved to wrap your arms around him but he winced and settled for just being at his side.

“What’s up baby,” you prodded again.

“Nothing just thinking,” he said. You giggled the sound of your voice cutting through the silent night, it rubbed him the wrong way.

“We’re kinda out here to avoid thinking too much aren’t we?” you teased, “come on Sho lets go back to bed-”

“Just leave me alone will you?” he snapped, you reached for his hand but he knocked your wrist away, he hit you a little harder than he meant to knocking you to the wooden deck. You cried out more in shock than in pain and brought your hand up to your chest. Shoto looked at you in horror, then at the spot on the banister, he’d been gripping. There was an imprint in the shape of his hand.

He’d burned it, he’d burned you.

“I was just trying to help sho-” you groaned, flexing your fingers, it stung a little bit where he’d touched you but it hadn’t even left a mark. Before you could get back to your feet Shoto dropped to his knees before you. Tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry,” he sobbed tugging at his hair with his fists. It scared you to see your Alpha like that,

“Shoto stop it’s okay you didn’t mean to hurt me it’s fine,” you comforted him, or at least you tried he couldn’t hear you through his wracked song. You tried to stop him from pulling out his own hair but he was a lot stronger than you.

“I can’t I can’t- I can’t control myself I should just kill myself and make the world a better place-” you hit him. Harder than either of you knew you could. It was enough to stun him into silence.

“Shoto Todoroki don’t you ever say that again!” you shouted, now both of you were crying, sobbing wrecks.

“You do so much good! You’ve saved countless lives the world would be destroyed without you in it don’t you ever take your life for granted like that!” Shoto had never seen you so mad at him, he’d never been so mad at you

“How can you say that? All my powers do it hurt people it doesn’t matter if sometimes I hurt villains because I always end up hurting the people I love- How can you think that when I just hurt you?” he barked.

“You didn’t! I’m fine! Shoto you’re a good hero you’re a good Alpha, I love you!”

“So what you’re fine with me hurting people? Because you love me? Are you that selfish?” he snapped.

“YES!” you shrieked throwing yourself at him and clinging to his shoulders as you cried. His arms locked around you in an iron-clad grasp as he cried too. “Yes, Shoto- I don’t care if you can’t save everyone, I don’t care if sometimes your quirk is dangerous I just want you to stay alive and be with me,” you cried. It broke him to hear you say that. He couldn’t imagine how he would handle it if things were reversed if he had to sit and listen to you say you wanted to kill yourself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he said into your shoulder. He didn’t. He wanted to live and be a good hero and a good alpha.

“You better not have or I’m going to kick your ass,” you sniffled making him smile. Shoto lifted you into his arms carrying you back to bed. He must be doing something write to end up with someone as wonderful as you.

“I’ll just have to train a little harder, get better control over my quirk,” he said more to himself.

“Shoto, every quirk can be dangerous, or hurt people, I mean hell Froppy has hurt civilians on accident with her poison skin and she plays with kids on her off time, come on Sho you haven’t done anything wrong,” you pleaded with him.

“Can we not talk about this, I just want to go to bed for now,” he said, setting you down. You looked at him apprehensively.

“Fine, but we will have to talk about it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he agreed lying down beside you and pulling you into his arms. You fit so perfectly against him like you were made for him.

“Don’t you dare try to leave again,” you scolded. He smiled to himself as if he could leave you now.

“I won’t, I promise,”

#todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha todoroki #shoto todoroki #alpha todoroki shoto #alpha todoroki #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia abo #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia head cannon

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earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

protected.

| 1940s!bucky x reader | smut | fluff |

Bucky is a fierce protector and i love him more than life ❤️

cw: brief minor violence/mentions of blood, light angst, mentions of cheating (not bucky)

Months. Months of you dating Howard Stark, and it made no more sense to him then, than when the two of you had first gotten together. You, the most perfect girl in his eyes, with fucking Howard Stark, the obnoxious playboy. You were sweet and gentle, and that’s what Bucky loved about you. It didn’t make sense for you to date your absolute ass of a boyfriend.

“She’s too good for him, Steve.”

“I know, Buck. You gotta get over her though. She’s Stark’s,” his best friend told him, and Bucky just shook his head.

Bucky had been in love with you ever since you were in grade school. You were friends and had always gotten along well, but you didn’t know how he felt about you. Steve watched years go by of Bucky pining after you, but never acting on it because he thought you didn’t feel the same.

Truthfully, you had fallen for Bucky when he had given you a daisy on the playground in elementary school, and those feelings had never gone away, no matter how many other people you dated. None of them were James.

Your best friend had spent years telling you that you and Bucky would be perfect together, but you were too scared of ruining your friendship to tell him how you felt. You, Bucky, Steve, and your best friend spent a lot of time together, and you didn’t want that to change.

So, when Howard Stark had asked you out with a grand gesture, you said yes. A few dates turned into him becoming your boyfriend, and now you were nearing seven months together with the playboy genius. You thought you’d fixed him, that his reputation for sleeping around was behind him.

You were terribly mistaken.

Bucky hit the balls with a pool cue, making Steve cheer with success. The party had been going a couple of hours, and Bucky was on his way out when Steve had talked him into one final game.

The sound of your pained cry made him immediately lose focus, and he looked around. You were running toward the door, and he caught you in his arms as you blindly ran.

“Y/N, doll, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked, stopping you.

A sob heaved through your chest, and you tried to fight him off.

“It’s me, relax, it’s okay,” he held your face in his hand, making you look up into his worried silver eyes.

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, and you were choking on your stuttered breaths, your body trembling.

“It... It was Stark. I got here, and he was making out with some whore at the bar,” you sobbed to Bucky, and his eyes widened.

You were hurt and in shock that Stark cheated on you, and you cried in Bucky’s arms.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Bucky seethed, and he hugged you tightly, his lips pressing a kiss to your forehead, trying to comfort you through his anger.

“Steve, can you take her?” Bucky gently handed you off to your friend, and Steve nodded.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Let’s get out of here.” Steve led you outside, away from your gossiping peers at the party.

“I thought he was going to be different with me... I’m such an idiot!” You told Steve.

“No. You didn’t deserve that. Never.”

“Where’s Bucky? I want Bucky...” You asked, looking around tearfully.

“He’s going to come out and take you home,” Steve promised, standing in your way of going back inside.

Bucky was enraged.

“Where the fuck is Howard Stark?” Bucky snarled at one of the boy’s friends, who pointed to a back room. Bucky stormed inside, throwing the door open, revealing Stark with his tongue down a girl’s throat.

“Get out. Get out, now.” Bucky snapped at the girl, scaring her when she saw how angry he was.

She ran past him, and Bucky grabbed Stark and threw him against the wall.

“What the hell are you doing? What about Y/N?!” Bucky shouted, nailing a punch to Stark’s face.

“She’s a prude. If I can’t get it from her-”

“Don’t talk about her like that you piece of shit!” Bucky yelled, hitting him again, this time, knocking him to the ground.

“You’re just mad she’d rather be with me than you!” Stark swung back, hitting Bucky’s cheekbone, sending a wave of pain through his face.

Bucky swore and retaliated before Stark could get in another blow.

“You’re going to kill him. Let him off. Go to the girl.” Jarvis dragged Bucky off of Stark, and Bucky seethed, staring at the now-battered asshole on the floor.

“Go to Y/N. Steve’s got her outside, she’s a mess.” Jarvis pushed Bucky off, tossing him a towel to clean his hands.

His head was pounding and he walked back out to his yellow car, where you were crying in the passenger seat. Steve got out, letting Bucky in.

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Is he still alive?” Bucky nodded and Steve left him with you.

“Bucky!” You cried, seeing him come in with blood on his hands and a vicious black eye, the bruising stretching over his cheekbone.

“M’okay doll,” he breathed, wincing a bit as you lightly touched his face. You were still crying, and Bucky reached over while he drove, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head, trying to comfort you.

“Y/N, I need you to breathe for me doll,” Bucky soothed you, driving through the pain.

“Let’s go to yours, it’s closer. Your face, Bucky...” You fretted, sniffling.

He pulled into the driveway of his house, and you got out and went inside with him, kicking off your heels when you were through the door.

“Come here, doll.” Bucky’s voice was low, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you stood in the dark hallway. You buried your face in his chest, your body practically spasming with hiccuped sobs.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you for protecting me,” you whispered.

“I couldn’t stop him from cheating on you.”

“No, but you made sure he didn’t get off unscathed,” you pointed out, and Bucky kissed your head.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again.”

“I know, Bucky.”

You took Bucky’s hand, leading him to the kitchen and turning on the light. You washed his hands first, pulling his blood-stained shirt off and tossing it aside. You had managed to calm down a lot so you could help clean him up, his hug soothing you.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Just my face.”

You wet a rag under the faucet and turned back to him, cleaning his face carefully. He winced and you apologized, trying not to cry again. His hands came to rest on your hips, holding you as you attentively cleaned him up.

“I’m sorry,”

“No, doll, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

Bucky kissed the inside of your wrist, and you exhaled shakily, overwhelmed with emotion.

You filled a towel with ice from his ice maker. You held his face with your hand, using the other to carefully hold the ice against his black eye. Bucky pulled you to sit on his lap, straddling his hips on the chair. You blushed but didn’t object, the remnants of anxiety somehow easing by sitting on his lap.

“Set it down for a minute, Y/N,” Bucky asked, and you anxiously set it aside.

“Did I hurt you?” You fretted, and he reached up, his thumb swiping over your cheek as he cradled your face in his hand.

You stared at him for a moment before the two of you leaned in. The intensity of his lips connecting with yours had your head spinning.

It was nothing like when Stark kissed you. This didn’t feel like a chore. It felt right. Kissing Bucky was perfect.

You were pulled closer to him in the dark kitchen, the lights dim in the quiet evening. You parted your lips and began to french with Bucky, your tongues sliding against each other. Heat and arousal burst through your body like fireworks as Bucky’s lips moved against yours.

Nothing in your whole life had ever felt this good.

Bucky’s arm came under your thighs, standing with you and grabbing the ice off of the table. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he carried you to his bedroom, kissing your cheek as he carried you.

“It’s just us now.”

“Just us, baby,” Bucky agreed, kissing you fervently as he set you down on the edge of his bed.

“May I?” He tugged on the bottom of your dress and you nodded, letting him lift it over your head.

He carefully set it aside, making you smile a bit. You looked at the ice set in a bowl on the bedside, and Bucky watched your eyes wander as he rid himself of his jeans.

He put a piece of ice in his mouth and kissed your neck, trailing his now-freezing lips down your chest. You shivered at the cold sensation, finding the heat between your legs gather much faster. Bucky noticed too, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze.

You inhaled sharply as he ran the ice over your nipple, jumping at the cold touch to the sensitive area. Bucky continued you to tease you like that until the ice had melted and you were mewling from the cold on your tits.

You grasped the sheets, fisting them in your hands as he teased you. Once the ice was melted he pressed chilly kisses down to your navel, his nose brushing against your smooth skin lightly. You ran your fingers through his hair as he lightly bit the skin below your navel, eliciting a whine form you.

You grew a bit shy as he pulled your bottoms down your legs, and you quickly closed your legs.

“You don’t ever have to hide from me, doll.” Bucky gently rubbed your thighs, trying to get you to relax as he kneeled in front of you on the bed.

You opened your legs, letting him between them. You grabbed another piece of ice and handed it to him, earning a pleased smile. You put it in his mouth, and he playfully bit your fingertip, making you gasp. It wasn’t nearly hard enough to hurt, but you blushed.

He helped you move up a bit so your head and shoulders rested on the soft pillows, getting you comfortable.

“Wait, come here first, Bucky.”

You pulled him up so he was hovering over you and pressed a light, gentle kiss to the bruise on his cheek. He pecked your lips, ice still between his teeth before going down on you.

A squeal left your lips as the cold came into contact with your clit. You shuddered, and Bucky held your legs open and down, keeping you exposed and immobile for him. Your threaded you fingers back into brown locks, tugging gently as the ice slid against your hypersensitive sex.

You were squirming and writing against him in minutes, the ice and his tongue on your clit and slowly prodding your entrance making ecstasy wash over you. His tongue and lips were still cold even after the ice had melted, contrasting against your hot arousal that was making his face slick as he ate you out.

Your moans were loud in the quiet house, crying his name in pleasure as the pressure snapped, your orgasm flowing through you in waves, coming on his face.

You cried out as he continued to eat you out through it, drawing out the pleasure and overstimulating you.

“I love hearing your noises, doll. You’re so fucking sexy,” Bucky groaned, kissing your inner thigh and rutting his hips against the bed.

You caught your breath, pulling him up to kiss you by his hair. He made a noise deep in his throat, and you kissed him roughly, the action full of need and white-hot desire.

You could taste yourself in his mouth, and it turned you on even more. You rolled your hips against his, your soaked cunt dragging along his cock, making him absolutely feral. He moaned into the kiss, and your eyes rolled back at the sensuality of it all.

You carefully pushed him, rolling the two of you over so he was on his back on the mattress. His eyes widened, his pupils blown out with lust.

“Can I ride you, Bucky?” you asked, straddling his hips, hovering above him.

“Yes, fuck yes!” He groped your ass, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands, making you gasp.

“Fuck yourself on me, doll. I want to see your tits and see you bounce on my cock, beautiful,” Bucky moaned, his filthy words making you impossibly wetter.

He helped position you over him, and you slowly sank down on him. A strangled moan escaped your lips as he stretched you out and filled you. The delicious burn of your walls taking him in made you drop your head back.

His hands slid up the front of your body, feeling you up and groping your breasts, adding to the pleasure of feeling him move inside of your tight, velvety sex.

“Bucky!” You cried, dragging your nails down his chest, leaving faint red scratches in their wake. You bounced up and down on him, rolling your hips as he bottomed out in you. He gripped your ass as he helped you ride him, screams of pleasure echoing off the walls. Your name tumbled from his lips as he orgasmed violently, twitching inside of you before releasing.

He held your hips down on his as he pumped you full of his come, the friction of your clit against his pelvis making you fall over the edge of your second orgasm. You were trembling and squealing, gripping his arms as you came with him still nestled deep inside of you.

He gazed up at you in adoration, gently helping you lower yourself down onto his chest. You were too spent to sit up anymore, and he stayed still, letting you warm him as you caught your breath. Your eyelashes brushed your cheeks, exhaustion making your eyelids heavy.

Bucky kissed your head, murmuring soft praises as his fingers traced mindless shapes on your back. You indulged in the safety and security of his arms, your bodies pressed together, the pain of the earlier events completely erased by Bucky’s love.

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ambertea · 3 years

Text

clever

Read on AO3

She’s six years old and she’s just won a certificate for Maths.

Her mum’s sitting at the back of the assembly, exchanging whispers to the single dad sitting next to her. Rose keeps looking back, trying to catch her eye, but instead watches her mother’s hand sneaking up a strange man’s thigh.

The headmaster smiles at her strangely, in a way she will later define as ‘condescending’ but in the moment she can’t wrap her head around.

“Well done, you clever girl.” He says, and Rose hates it. His clammy hand engulfs hers and Rose just blinks as he shakes it up and down.

The school claps dutifully and her mum is still not looking at her.

She’s eleven years old and she hates everyone in her class. They tease her in the playground, mock her in the classroom and the only safe haven is the tiny library. The librarian is old and odd, and she strokes Rose’s hair like she’s nothing more than a tiny doll.

“Don’t try so hard to be clever,” she tells her. “They’ll leave you alone.”

Rose leaves the library and never comes back.

She’s fifteen years old and GCSEs are utter bullocks. Mickey has already failed them all, already told her they don’t matter in the real world. She stays behind after school to sit in empty classrooms to figure out algebra and tells her mum she still does gymnastics.

She gets her results in a thick brown envelope and takes a quick glance at a long list of A’s before she chucks it in the bin.

“Pure shit.” She tells her mum. “Didn’t even try, anyway. I’m just not clever enough.”

Her mum throws her a party regardless, and Rose ignores the ache in her chest.

She’s seventeen and he’s fucking hot.

She’s told her mum she’s doing A-levels because she hasn’t figured out if she wants to do hairdressing or childcare. Instead, she doodles equations on the back of English papers whilst she waits for everyone else to finish.

She meets Jimmy outside the school gates and he’s smoking cigarettes and the smell gets right into the back of her throat. She tells him that it’s bad for him, and he tells her he could be bad for her. He’s right.

She drops out of school and her mother approves because it was giving her airs and graces. What her mother does not approve of is the filthy bedsit she moves into, where she cries as her boyfriend screams at her.

“You think you’re clever, do you?” he yells, and she shakes her head and whispers no, no, never.

She’s nineteen, fucking shop window dummies are after her, and a strange man is standing with her in the lift.

“’Cos to get that many people dressed up and being silly, they got to be students.”

“Good point. Well done.”

She’s wrong, but the praise bounces around her brain.

She runs off with him because apparently, that’s just what she does. Runs off with charismatic men, leaves her mother worried sick, because she is Rose, and Rose is not clever.

This man, however, is no Jimmy. He’s smart – so smart, any small attempts at intelligence still leave her feeling dumb. This is a comfort. She argues with him, thinks around him, and starts to feel a bit better about herself.

He’s sweet as well, and kind, and doesn't care when she asks too many questions. He shows her how to strip wires and repair parts of his precious ship, and they tinker away together in comfortable silences. Now and then, she properly impresses him, and he ignores the beauties of the universe and beams at her instead. It’s strange and wonderful and she tries her best not to disappoint him.

Then she is sent away, he is trapped, and it’s time for her to use her bloody brains only she’s not sure they even work anymore. He is dying, far in the future, but still dying, and she is watching her mum scoff down chips. She doesn’t want to go back to her old life, doesn’t want to play stupid anymore.

“Why, because you’re better than us?”

No, because she has learned what life is like when she tries, and she is not yet ready to stop.

She makes it back, using her brain and a fucking massive truck, and it is worth it if just for the way he is looking at her. He tells her she is fantastic and then explodes into a whole new man, with a lankier frame and wilder hair. He takes a long nap, and she is left to be useless once more.

She stands up in front of actual, breathing monsters and tries to copy words she’s heard, but her voice shakes, and her hands are trembling. They laugh at her, and she is eleven again, being teased by the nasty girls in her class.

He saves the day, because that’s just what he does, and she runs off with him again because his smile is still kind and their hands fit nicely. Cassandra sits inside her brain and hums with curiosity, poking around her mind like it’s a mildly interesting boutique.

“Not as thick as you seem, are you?” She whispers into Rose’s mind.

She’s inside some sort of spaceship and he is gushing over the accomplishments of Reinette de Pompadour. She already knows all this, knows who she is, but he is enjoying the sound of his own voice, so she keeps quiet.

She watches him carefully, notices the lipstick marks around his face and the ridiculous angle of his collar, and stamps down the familiar feelings of jealousy rising within her chest.

It had felt like they were growing closer. Their hugs had been lingering, hands held tightly at any available moment. She had thought something was growing, something small and precious and good. Clearly, she was wrong.

Reinette dies, and Rose isn’t glad, not really, but she watches him carefully afterward and wonders. Wonders why he keeps her around if he even wants her there. She tries to ask, but the words die on her tongue.

She has almost let the feeling go when she meets her father, a man who does not know her and apparently does not care to. She calls him dad and he runs, leaving her crying and shaking and so very vulnerable. She wonders, afterward, why. Why no one has ever wanted her properly, why it feels like no one has even met her in the first place. She sobs into her mum’s shoulder and wishes she had told her about the GCSE results.

Maybe it’s a good thing, she thinks later, that she’s alone. She has no real connections that make her want to stay at home, no real relationships that don’t leave her mentally exhausted. He is her grounding point, her focus, and he doesn’t think she’s stupid, not really, but he doesn’t think she’s clever either.

She knows she loves him; knows she will spend the rest of her life pining for him. It aches, having so much unspent emotion coursing under her skin. Feels like she could explode and implode simultaneously. But his eyes are so soft, and he is so worth it.

“We’ll always be alright, me and you.” She tells him. He just stares into the sky glumly.

“There’s a storm approaching.”

She hopes for a bit of rain but instead gets a fucking earthquake.

She’s twenty-one, she’s in a different universe, and she’s absolutely fine.

“How are you doing?”

“Are you okay?”

“Speak to me, Rose, please.”

She doesn’t speak to anyone. Doesn’t even look in the mirror.

It’s hard to assign blame on a talking pepper pot, so instead, she blames herself. If she’d been stronger. Tried harder. Been cleverer.

She tells her mum this over a bottle of wine, and she just laughs.

“People like us aren’t clever, Rose. We’re survivors.”

She doesn’t want to be a survivor anymore.

She starts working at Torchwood. Starts sleeping at Torchwood as well. Pete gives her the job out of pity but is quickly astonished by the scale of the work she’s doing.

“You’re brilliant.” He tells her one night. Jackie scoffs.

“Brilliant? Hark at her.”

Rose ignores her. It doesn’t matter.

She sits through A-levels, and then university lectures, and then physics conventions with groups of boring boys who follow her like a bizarre squadron. She has a brother now, a tiny boy with eyes just like hers, and when she tucks him into bed, she whispers stories of the stars.

She creates a dimension cannon and brings it home to show Pete. He marvels over it whilst Jackie sniffs like she’s got a nasty cold.

“Just glorified jewelry. Face it, sweetheart. You’re stuck here with the rest of us. It’s time to get used to it.”

“Shut up,” Rose says, and she can feel her pulse banging away in her ears like a marching parade.

Jackie is spluttering, Pete’s eyes are wide, and Rose isn’t quite sure what she’s doing but she’s doing it anyway.

“I can do this. I am going to do this. So just shut up.”

She does do it. She flits around universes like students backpack around Europe, and it’s strangely healing to spend so much time by herself.

She meets tiny aliens made of glass who kiss through the refractions of light and hugs ginormous bear-like creatures who are surprisingly friendly and incredibly soft.

She searches for him, and it hurts and it’s hard but it’s also fantastic.

She gets through finally to a universe that should be right but is oh so very wrong. A red-haired woman screams at her, and Rose is finding it difficult to breathe.

“I'm nothing special. I'm a temp. I'm not even that. I'm nothing.”

“Donna Noble, you are the most important woman in the whole of creation!”

“Oh, don't. Just don't.”

She tells her mum about her GCSE results because she can’t stop thinking about it. Her mum stares at her for a long while and then looks down at her hands. Rose has never seen her mum speechless before, doesn’t like it, so she just nods and leaves.

She finds him, and the feeling rushes right from her toes to the top of her head. She has done it. After all the effort and pain, she has found him, and the uncurling pride is like nothing she’s ever felt before.

He gets shot and utterly ruins it, but the feeling lingers.

Her mum shows up at the worst possible time, but she is there, and she is looking at Rose so fiercely. When the situation calms down and they are safe, she pulls Rose into a tight hug and rubs her hands in circles across the small of her back.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” She whispers, and Rose quickly wipes her eyes on her shoulders.

She is dumped on the same beach she has had nightmares about for the last five years. She is left again, but this time she is left with a familiar man who whispers promises into her ear and holds her like she is something important.

He is looking at her like he’s hoping she might lead the way, and she knows how to do this now, knows how to think and plan and strategize. She kisses him on the cheek, watches the blush that spreads across his cheek, takes his hand, and leads him back to England.

She doesn’t take him straight back to the mansion, hates the idea of speech and silence in equal measure. Instead, she takes him to her lab, and he stares at her designs through startled eyes and stolen glasses. She fidgets in the corner of the room, and wraps her arms around her waist, waiting for his verdict.

He turns to her, whips the glasses off of his face and a look of quiet wonder spreads across his face.

“You’re brilliant.”

She squirms under his gaze, picks off an invisible bit of fluff from her jacket. He is still looking at her, and she tries her best to smile.

“Thanks.”

“No, seriously. These are so impressive.”

She’s still not sure what to do with the praise, but it warms her and fills all the cracked pieces of her soul with new and growing tissue. She kisses him, both because she’s not sure what else to do, and because she can, and he smiles against her lips. They break apart and he runs his fingers over her work, his eyes soft and curious.

“How did you do this?” He whispers, and something tender and precious burns gently in her chest.

“I guess I’m just clever.”

#i've reread this so many times i'm not entirely sure if it makes sense but hopefully!#lol #fic #rose tyler #doctor who

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6sakusa · 3 years

Text

‘next time’ kozume kenma.

a/n : so this is actually based off my past relationship & i kinda wanted to make the reader the villain for once so enjoy <3

wc: 1.8k

warnings : implications of toxic relationship, angst, me not proof reading.

you stared down at your feet, eyes pooling with tears and heart racing as your now ex-boyfriend approached you. the two of you were obviously still madly in love with each other, anyone could tell that part. but what you hadn’t expected was an ocean to separate the two of you soon enough, instead of your own stubbornness.

—

“i don’t love you anymore.” that was a lie, a lie that kenma wasn’t quite sure why he told you. maybe it was because he pretty much loathed you right now, but then again, there was such a fine line between love and hate and he barely knew himself where he stood on the spectrum. all he was aware of was that he was being fuelled by an ugly emotion, jealousy? no it couldn’t be, but then how come he despised the way you would smile at lev? the way you would brush his shoulder when you laughed? the way you offered up your food to him when he said he was hungry? even though the two of you were both inexperienced in your first serious relationship he still expected you to understand that you were his, and he couldn’t stand another moment with you contemplating whether you really belonged to him or not.

“where is this coming from?” you were practically frozen in place, unaware if you had registered his words properly as you could hear your heart leaping out of your chest. you bit down on your lip hoping that this was some kind of sick joke that kuroo had put him up to, you would make sure to get the bastard back later, he would definitely pay, how could he do something so cruel-

“i’ve realised that i barely know you.” you forced yourself to look up at him at his words, clenching your fists to the point where your nails were digging into your own skin at a poor attempt to deflect emotional pain with physical pain. so this wasn’t a joke? you scoffed at the realisation, but despite your cool and put together demeanour you felt cold. this heartbreak was slow, it was unexpected and refused to register itself the way it should. perhaps it was because deep down you knew that his words weren’t true, of course he loved you, he always had. so why were you acting like this? it seemed spite was deeply embedded where there was once love and you certainly wouldn’t provide him with a response that would satisfy him.

he wanted you to beg and you knew it, the reason you knew it is because you had made him do it over and over again. at times your relationship felt like a game of cat and mouse as you would always scurry out of kenma’s grasp the second your relationship was heading in the right direction, and it was all because you liked it when he would trail after you, when he’d apologise even though it made him nervous, when he whispered sweet nothings in your ear just to get you to forgive him even though it made his anxiety peak and his cheeks flaunt a dusty pink colour.

but you weren’t like him, no, and you weren’t gonna concede the same way he had done countless times. because you saw this for what it truly was, a game of tag and kenma had decided to make you it. but you would change that soon enough, even if you had to break your own heart to do it.

pride was a sin, not any sin but one of the seven deadly sins and there was no surprise that the deadliest one of them all was your speciality because you would die to persevere your pride if you had to.

“so these months we spent together.. if you didn’t love me then why did you waste time?” it was a mystery to kenma how you were so well put together right now, wasn’t this the moment where you’d start crying? weren’t you supposed to be reminiscing now? this as your cue to say that you could be better, that you’d do better, that you’d do anything. but no, you did none of that, why did you do none of that? do you not care? did you even love him? he was baffled how you were the one asking the questions right now even though there were a million going through his mind.

“i really liked you at first, i thought we could make this work but, w-we’re too different, we barely know anything about each other, what’s the point being together?” he stumbled on his words and you knew you were in the lead. you definitely had the upper hand here because even though kenma was one of the most relaxed people you’d meet in public, behind doors when it came to you he was an emotional wreck, and right now he was playing right into your hands.

“what don’t we know about each other?” you asked, biting back a smirk, you were almost amused in anticipation of his response. it wasn’t that you didn’t love kenma because you did, but something about inexperienced love lead to this, and if this was the end it’s only fit to make it an entertaining one right? because when you went home you knew that you would be biting back your sobs but for now- while it lasts, you had to win this at any costs.

“look, i can't name specific things but you know what i mean, i know that you understand what i’m saying.” he hated this, he hated standing here trying to pick apart what was wrong between the two of you, but ultimately he was correct, there was a void when it came to you two knowing each other well enough, it wasn’t something that could be voiced but instead felt. when had the two of you spent quality time outside of school? or even gone on dates? had you ever even facetimed each other? he couldn’t recall. but despite all this he loved you with a depth he wasn’t sure you’d ever understand and for the longest time he was willing to wait for you to be comfortable and open up. but instead here he was, throwing the same things back in your face that he claimed to be okay with when you had first voiced your concerns on why you didn’t think the two of you would be compatible.

“y/n i’m sorry but-“ “no, don’t pull that bullshit on me you’re not sorry, don’t even bother ever trying to speak to me again.” you interrupted, of course you had to be the one to say it, there it was again your selfish pride. it was sad- no, tragic how much you based your self-worth around it and even though that worth was crippling away you wouldn’t let it go yet, no, not until you were done here. “don’t be childish about this, come on.”

“did you not hear me before? don’t speak to me ever again.” you scoffed wanting to reinforce the last blow as hard as humanly possible. but even though on the outside you were quite the bitch, no one could ever understand the hurricane of emotional turmoil that was sweeping itself through you right now, because it took everything not to cry right there, not to beg him to stay, not to make empty promises about how you’d do better. what you wish you’d known is that he was going through the exact same thing, because the two of you were too stubborn for your own good.

“fine.” he clenched his jaw but his voice was below a whisper, it wasn’t supposed to go like this, it was never supposed to go like this. the two of you walked away from each other and the further away you got the more it started to hurt as the two of you realised how hopelessly in love you were with one another. it was a slow heartbreak indeed.

—

and that was what had taken you to this point, only a month later finding out that you would be travelling overseas to live with your cousins. that’s when it hit you that the two of you truly wouldn’t get back together despite the constant pining on both ends even after you had told him not to speak to you.

“i hate you.” you muttered through your sobs not even being able to bring yourself to look him in the eye. you cursed yourself for being so stubborn, maybe the two of you would’ve had one more month together, now all you wanted was to go back in time, to be with kenma again battling for his attention against the switch. you smiled sadly at the thought as he stood before you after receiving the news that you’d be leaving soon from none other than lev, it’s a pain how things had turned out.

“why?” he asked, not as emotional as you but god he wanted to be, but he had to be strong right? for you..? he’ll be damned if he lets your last memory with him be tear stained and heartbreak.

“you said you didn’t love me anymore, remember?” you chuckled bitterly thinking back on it, in the moment you wondered why you were so hellbent on turning the whole thing into a game, you hated yourself more than anything right now, even more than you claimed to hate kenma.

“i was lying.” he brought his finger to your tears, wiping your liquid heartbreak before bringing you into his embrace and you swore you could see fireworks. it was almost a movie like moment, you wish you could freeze time and stay like this forever but alas this was your punishment for your pride, for your sins.

“i don’t wanna leave.” you sobbed into his shoulder finally letting the dam break, it was true, you wanted nothing more than to stay here, where he was. maybe it was the way that he stroked your hair while you cried or the way you inhaled his scent but you knew this was home.

“i’m sorry.” you looked up at him at his words, if anything you should be the one apologising, there were so many things you wished you had done differently and so many moments you wanted to share in the future but you knew your time together was coming to an end. “i’m sorry too.” you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady as you clinged onto his hoodie.

“you know we’ll see eachother again one day.” he mumbled into your hair and you could’ve just melted right then and there.

with shaky hands and an overbearing sense of love you pulled away with a sad smile that he returned. “i’ll see you next time.”

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mardereads19 · 3 years

Text

Elriel Month 🌸🦇

Day 3:

Azriel followed the carriage silently, winnowing from tree to tree, his shadows informing him Elain was in position and ready. He didn’t feel comfortable in letting her do this, but he also trusted her to do her part well. She was more than capable, more than prepared. He had trained her, after all.

Well, he hadn’t been the only one. Elain had revealed to him that she had been training in secret for a while with Nuala and Cerridwen. They’d done a good job. He made a mental note to give them a bonus come Calanmai.

Also to reprimand them for keeping secrets while being his spies.

The sun had already set and there was no moon tonight, giving Azriel the perfect cover from the males Elain had to distract and dupe into giving away what they knew.

“If these males are being controlled by Koschei, will it even make sense to kidnap them?” Feyre had asked on their meeting in Rhys’s study this afternoon. Azriel had been quietly observing and listening to the plans his High Lord had been piecing together. “At least, when Briallyn had control over Eris’s males—”

“And me,” Cassian had supplied from where he stood next to his mate, his arms crossed over his chest and face contemplative. Az had noted the way Nesta’s jaw clenched and her eyes shined silver for a second. The need to kill. The drive to eradicate the threat against her mate. Az had looked away.

Feyre had nodded. She’d looked tired, an expression that’d been mirrored in Rhys. The baby kept us awake all night. He wouldn’t stop crying, Rhys had told him earlier, but there had been light in his eyes, a quiet happiness even as he’d yawned.

Az had not seen his brother yawn in a while.

“And Cassian,” Feyre had added, a spark of anger in her eyes, “they would not talk.”

Az had agreed, “When we brought them to the Hewn City, they hadn’t given anything away.”

There’d been a silence for a moment. They had all, save for Nesta, witnessed Azriel’s administrations to the males of Autumn. No torture had gotten them to open their mouths, to reveal who had sent them after the mask. Feyre had pointed out how wrong it was to do that to them when they were not themselves.

Nesta had sat up straighter in her chair in the study before saying, “But what if they are being partially controlled?”

Rhys had raised his eyebrows.

Nesta had stood, Cassian reaching for her hand. Nesta let their fingers intertwine. It had brought a small pang of envy into Az’s heart. He’d pushed it away. “Bellius,” she said with disgust, “that male from the Blood Rite. He constantly mocked us, tried to rile us up. Sometimes I wonder if he gave too much away.”

Rhys had frowned. “Perhaps he wasn’t being controlled. He was only in on the plan.”

“He was being controlled,” Nesta insisted. Her gaze had been unfocused, as if lost in the memories. Cassian’s wings shifted. “He had that glassy look in his eyes that were on the Autumn Court males. I noticed it from the first time I met him. I thought he had been drunk at first.” She had blinked and, as if remembering where she was, had turned to Cass. He had pulled her closer to him, his eyes reassuring her.

Amren’s lips had twisted upwards in what might have been a smile before she turned to Rhys. “So there is a possibility that Koschei only partially controls these Fae, especially if they are far away from where he is located now. His grasp on them through his power may be less strong, perhaps allowing them the freedom to speak, like that male from the Blood Rite. What would you plan now?”

“I’m still not sure about this,” Feyre had contributed. “The Crown may not work the same way Koschei’s powers could. He could still have full influence over them.”

“Koschei is a death god,” Rhys had said, “I don’t think his power excels in controlling others more than it does in killing them. The crown’s whole purpose is to control living beings and, if it has that limit, then I’m willing to bet Koschei does, too.”

“I wouldn’t place a bet on a thought, Rhys.” It had been clear Feyre was worried. Her fingers had kept tapping on the table. Az wondered if it came as a result of being a mother, that worrying. That caring for the well-being of others. “If we brought them here, could you guarantee they’ll break?”

“I don’t think Azriel could get them to sing for us.” Rhys inhaled. His eyes roamed the map of the continent, focusing on the coast of the human territory. “If Bellius spoke to rile Nesta and her friends up, then only their own arrogant boasting will get them to talk. They have to feel like they are giving the information out of their own free will. That they’d be gaining something by it, even if it’s admiration or applause.”

Azriel had tilted his head, analyzing what Rhys was implying. “There is no one in this room that can convince those men to speak.” Feyre and Rhys were recognizable to all the Fae. Cassian and Az were Illyrian, which would raise suspicions. There was no reason for an Illyrian be on the mortal lands of the continent. And Amren and Nesta had as much chance of charming those Fae as Bryaxis had of calming people.

Mor would have been their best choice, but she was on the Fae side of the continent, too far away to reach in time for tonight.

Rhys had met Az’s gaze. There was a shine on them that often told Azriel that Rhys had an idea. Something in his gut had told him he wouldn’t like it. “No. No one in this room can do it. But I know who.”

“Stop your games and just spill it, boy. I don’t have time for this.” Amren had said, narrowing her eyes at Rhys.

Cassian had rolled his eyes, “What could possibly be more vital than this right now?”

“I have a date with Varian to taste different types of meat and I’m starving. If I stay here any longer, I might eat yours.”

Cassian had barked a laugh. “I wanna see you try, tiny ancient one.”

Azriel had kept his focus on Rhys. Waiting. Fear making his heart beat faster. He knew what was coming.

Finally, Rhys had asked, “How has Elain’s training gone?”

And now, Azriel was following the carriage to where she would be waiting for the Fae. Where she would pretend to be a victim of a robbery. A female riding a wagon on her own in the lonely road when a thief took advantage of the solitude to steal the resources she was on her way to sell in the market and make a coin. Az was to stay in the shadows. He was only allowed to be here in the case the Fae males wanted to take another type of advantage out of her.

Azriel fisted his hands. He had half a mind to destroy the males now and claim a freak accident had killed them rather than find out what they’d intend with her.

He stopped a second, telling his breathing to calm, waiting for his rage to subside. He couldn’t make decisions when his mind was violent, he needed a clear head.

He kept moving only because the carriage did, but he still wanted to spill blood.

A noise caught his attention. There, just beyond the curve of the road, was Elain kneeling on the floor crying as she held a few pieces of the wagon’s wood. Azriel fought the impulse to winnow to her, to console her, to hold her. Tell her everything was alright. That he was with her and no one would hurt her.

She’s pretending. Her cries aren’t real. She knows I’m here.

But it was difficult. His wings twitched, his shadows scattered towards her, but still hid from view. They were ready to strike at his command. Anyone who got near her.

Stand down, he said to them.

The carriage had gotten close enough to to see Elain on the road, see the mess of the wagon, and notice the horse that led it missing.

“Ho!” The rider called to his own horses while pulling on the reins. They stopped next to the wagon’s destruction. Pieces of wood lay around it and Elain. Rhys had taken care of that.

“Cover your face,” he had told Elain before sending a wave of his power to the empty wagon. Elain had covered her face, but noticed it hadn’t been necessary. Azriel had secured a dome of his own power around her. Wood struck a blue wall and jumped off harmlessly. Rhys had narrowed his eyes at him, “Disperse the wood, Azriel. Otherwise it will be weird indeed that the wood landed all around except for that clear demarcation of a dome.”

Azriel looked down. Right, there was a clear difference between where his power had encircled Elain and where it hadn’t.

She had sucked on her lower lip to hide her smile. Azriel felt hot in the face, but he didn’t care that he had made a foolish mistake to protect her. She met his gaze and he saw a promise there that he tucked away before his scent gave away the direction his mind had gone off to.

Elain turned to Rhys, her pale pink dress looking white in the dusk light. Rhys had estimated the Fae would take this road and would be here in half an hour. It was an isolated enough road, one Fae loved to use to stay hidden inside the mortal lands. It was surrounded by forest on both sides, the smell of pine was strong here, but it was a scent Azriel liked. The wagon was brought here by both males in their winnowing.

“Was it really necessary to destroy the wagon like that? Wouldn’t it have sufficed to simply break a wheel?” Elain had asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Rhys studied the mess in the road, his brow furrowed in thought. “A thief would have no need to go to all that trouble.”

“Perhaps not,” he had answered throwing her a wink, “but it just contributes to your woeful story. Make sure to cry extra loud.”

Elain had shaken with laughter and Azriel had taken a step closer to her impulsively. He wanted to lay a hand on her waist, to feel her laugh reverberate through him.

Now, he watched her shake in sobs instead. One of the males from inside the carriage stepped down and walked closer to her. He was dressed in cheap armor, dirty from use, and his brown hair was tied at his nape. The male surveyed the wagon, the destruction and lack of a horse, and finally glanced at Elain. His eyes roamed her body, but Azriel couldn’t tell if the glassy look in his eyes were from the control the male was under or for a different drive.

Azriel felt that hunger for violence stir inside him and fought with everything he could to keep still.

Stand down, Azriel repeated to the shadows when he noticed how they were risking exposure by getting closer to Elain. Hesitantly, they skittered back into the dark.

“What happened here, dear?” The male asked, though his voice didn’t drip kindness.

Elain put on a good show, sobbing and wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her simple dress. She had to look the part of a Fae in hiding, so the dress was akin to the human clothes this area donned, her hair was arranged over her ears, and the glow of her High Fae beauty had been glamoured to an acceptable degree.

“Good, Sir.” She stood and curtsied. “I was riding on the way to the market—” a sob “—when a thief came by.” Tears flowed down Elain’s cheeks so effortlessly Azriel wondered if she was hurt. Did she twist her ankle again while he was away? Perhaps with one of the wood planks he himself had dispersed.

Not real tears, one of his shadows assured him.

He didn’t relax.

“When were you attacked?”

“This afternoon.” She sniffed. “I’ve been here hours, seeing as how hidden this road is. I have no way of getting home.” Elain covered her face in her hands. “I live too far away, and I have an injury in my right leg that makes walking for long periods unbearable.” She wiped away her tears. “I stayed here hoping someone might come around and help me get to a place where I could sleep the night and hopefully rent a horse during the week.”

“Did the thief not take your coin?” The male sounded skeptical.

She nodded, “They did, of course, but I could work for a few days and make the money. I just need a ride.” Elain fidgeted with her dress, successfully looking devastated and scared.

The male gazed back at the carriage and the others, considering his options. Azriel held his breath as the male regarded Elain once more. His face revealed he felt superior, a male who knew he had control of the situation. Exactly what they needed him to think. He also looked like he wanted to impress this lovely female he happened to rescue.

He inclined his head to the side, a smile spreading over his face. “Alright, sweet face. We can take you.”

After a few teary grateful expressions from Elain, the male opened the door of the carriage for her with all the satisfaction of a savior. She climbed the first step, pretending a limp, and as she did so, she glanced over her shoulder.

To the male, she was looking back to the destroyed wagon and up to the trees in sadness. But her gaze met Azriel’s. She had know exactly where he was. He hoped she could read in his eyes what he wanted to tell her.

You’re not alone. I’m right behind you. You’re doing great, lovely fawn. You’re doing great.

Her head dipped in the smallest of nods and then she was inside and the male was closing the door behind him.

Azriel clenched his jaw.

Now the real work begun.

#elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #elriel #elain #azriel #spy elain #spy elriel #elain archeron #elriel endgame #elriel oneshot #elriel fanfic #elriel fic #my writing

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mediocre--writing · 3 years

Note

(still pining harringrove, they've kissed a few times but never talked about it) Steve getting attacked BAD by a demo dog his shoulder and side of his neck ripped up, bleeding out on the forest floor while billy is above him trying to stop the blood, frantically talking with hopper on the walkie, and hes crying, hes crying over barely conscious steve and hes never cried over someone before

hopper hears the crackling of the radio before he realizes that’s what’s waking him up

it’s fading in and out and it’s super garbled, but the voice coming through doesn’t sound too sure of itself either

as he wakes up completely, he notices the desperation in their voice

“oh, god... steve, stevie, ste... up! WAKE UP!... HOPPER DO YOU COPY?!”

and that’s what gets him rolling out of bed to the radio

and he knows that voice, but never with this much emotion and tears blocking the general raspiness of his voice.

on the other end, billy has his hands around steve’s neck, his right one cradling his head and his left one holding the junction between his shoulder and neck, trying to stop the bleeding.

“steve, steve, wake up, STEVE, WAKE UP!” he pushed the walkie’s ‘talk’ button again, “HOPPER, ANYONE, DO YOU COPY?”

this had to be a bad dream. it just had to be. there was no was on gods green earth that this could be happening right now.

steve’s eyes peek open every minute or so, but they don’t stay open long and billy doesn’t know if he can get him to the house without jostling him and risking the loss of more blood.

steve’s bleeding out in front of him and he feels utterly hopeless in trying to stop the nightmare from unfolding.

the walk-in crackles after a few moments of billy’s last attempt to get attention from the chief.

“hargrove? what’s happening?”

“the...dog...the dogs, in the woods, dog—woods, the woods in the, in the woods”

“kid, slow down. what is happening? where are you and who are you with?”

and billy doesn’t know if he can form a coherent thought let alone explain the whole situation out loud

but he tries

“me and steve, in his backyard, then... noises in the woods... got his bat, went to find tha dogs... got, got steve.”

hopper took a deep breath and debated on waking el or not

“he’s bleeding out so bad, it’s all over his face,”

billy was still sobbing into the walkie and hopper decided to wake el up.

“go call joyce,” he whispered once he woke her up, “tell her that somethings wrong with billy and steve and we might have to go find them”

el goes to call joyce and hopper goes back to the radio, which has been silent for the past minute or two

“kid? you still there?”

billy, meanwhile, would be hyperventilating if steve wasn’t as injured as he was. there wasn’t a single thought in his head other than steve

steve. steve. steve.

“here.” a weary voice comes through.

el’s talking with joyce and hopper is trying to organize his thoughts enough to figure out what to do.

well he said something about woods behind steve’s house, so they outta start there

“tell joyce to meet me at the harrington’s house,” he directed el, who relayed it to joyce

he was still trying to ask billy more questions, because the vague shit wasn’t doing anything to help him understand anything, but hopper was also loading both him and el into the car to get to the harrington’s

billy was trying to figure out a way to pick steve up while keeping pressure on his wounds and carry the radio and possibly the bat, though that wasn’t as important.

he had a hunch about which way they came from, but judging on the small lights to his left, he was gonna walk that way.

if he could get steve up.

he shoved the chunky radio into his leather jackets inside pocket, which it didn’t really fit into but it was good enough

he kept his hand on steve’s neck while maneuvering the hand that was on his shoulder to his back and awkwardly tried to pick steve up

“come on steve, help me here, i, i don’t— what am i supposed to be doing?”

billy was pleading desperately for some sort of guidance as he shifted steve in his arms and moved to stand up straight, almost losing balance but staying upright

the walk to the house was difficult and long, as billy couldn’t go very fast for how large steve was and didn’t want to jostle him too much, and hoppers voice coming in every once and a while, causing billy to maneuver his elbow to press the button through his jacket and speak to him

joyce had arrived at the house first and was waiting for hopper outside the car when he came rolling in.

they immediately started walking around the house to the pool, then stepping towards the woods before hearing a few branches snapping not too far away

hopper, always prepared, grabbed one of his handguns and pointed it out at the woods when billy and steve emerged, both splattered head to toe in blood and disheveled

joyce and hopper walked to them quickly and opened the sliding glass door to the living room and set steve down

billy was still, not moving his eyes away from steve, eyes still dripping with tears but he wasn’t making any other movements

hopper was trying to assess the damages and joyce was calling 911, because this wasn’t a ‘stitch it up and sleep it off’ type of injury they were used to, this was a wound that was still bleeding and seemed to be deep enough that they might be seeing some of steve’s shoulder bone

hours later, after steve and joyce were carted off in an ambulance and hopper was driving billy and el behind it to the hospital that, there was finally calm

a doctor had come in and said that steve would be fine, despite scarring and damage done to his shoulder muscle, he should be fine.

billy choked out a sob after hearing that. he started sobbing so hard he felt like he might throw up, his stomach twisting and turning like nothing he’d ever felt

joyce pulled his shivering body towards her, letting his upper body fall onto her lap, petting his hair and trying to calm down his shaky breathing

it took about half an hour before a doctor said they could see steve, that they’d set him up in a room all on his own and would be staying for a few nights, which got billy to stop crying for the most part.

the four had all sat down in steve’s room. el was half asleep next to hopper and billy was sitting by steve’s head in an insanely uncomfortable plastic chair, joyce beside him

“har—billy, what happened?” hopper finally asked

billy hesitated for a minute before even looking in hoppers direction

“we were outside, with our feet in the pool and there was this noise— like chittering— and steve went to grab his bat and walkie and we were being cautious, ya know?”

hopper nodded

“but then we saw something shiny in the woods and we followed it and it... was in a tree? and jumped right onto steve and i hit it with the bat. it got away but it clawed at him bad and he passed out and i was calling you and— and it just felt like everything stopped but was going too fast?”

billy scrunched his face, as if in agony, as he looked from hopper to steve’s bruised neck and face

“i thought he was dead or something. he wouldn’t wake up and nobody answered and i thought he was gonna die.”

joyce put a gentle hand on billy’s back and rubbed at it softly, a motherly touch, and billy softly grabbed at steve’s hand sitting on top of the sheets, as if just the feeling of steve under his hand would keep him safe

and billy realized that he didn’t want to let go. he didn’t want steve far away from him, where he would get hurt and he wouldn’t be able to protect him

he needed steve and steve needed him, more than either of them knew

#stranger things #billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #steve x billy #mediocre—writing #mw harringrove

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beomglocks · 3 years

Text

unlikely allies ; txt x reader

part: four.1 ,,,, next chapter / previous chapter

plot: when a zombie apocalypse breaks out in your town, you’re forced to team up with a group of boys from very different social standards in your school.

genre: fluff, angst, horror i guess?, not really that scary but alright, some funny moments

w/c: 2.1k

warnings: blood, gruesome scenes (kind of really detailed), cursing, everyone hates each other, definitely some major injuries, zombies duh, everyone kinda pining for mc

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"we are going to find more people y/n. we need to make up for beomgyu," taehyun spits. beomgyu walks up to him with anger taking over his features. "im still here you know! and i'd just hate for the kang taehyun to get bit because wouldn't that just be soooo fucking tragic! news flash, everyone's dead! you're not famous!"

"stop arguing!" you pull them apart but yeonjun shoves you away from them. "why? why should stop arguing?"

"we're all gonna die anyways," soobin says casually from his spot on the ground.

taehyun rolls eyes, walking straight into the library without any hesitation. "wait-" before you can warn him you all see something that makes you freeze.

you swear you remember that kid from somewhere. his fluffy hair is covering his eyes and instead of his baggy sweater covering his frame, it has ridden up to showcase his nonexistent abdomen. the zombies have absolutely ravaged the kid's body, leaving nothing but a lone carcass. there are still zombies lurking around his body, trying to feast on whatever part of him is left.

something beside the boy's body catches your eye and you realize who he is.

"ah shit," they mumble. you snap out of glaring at yeonjun to see a boy on the floor with books scattered around him. "shit im sorry! i should've been looking at where i was going," you apologize kneeling down to help the boy pick up his books.

"oh don't worry i shouldn't have taken up carrying so many books to the point where i couldn't see!" the boy's voice is so cheerful it makes you smile. you're glad he's not mad at you.

the boy is really cute too. his boyish features suit his face well and his hair is messy but looks like he stylized it that way. he's dressed comfortably in a huge sweater and baggy jeans with a molang keychain attached to one of the belt loops.

"where are you even going with all these books?" you ask. "i offered to take these back to the library for my english teacher, in hindsight i really should've just taken two or three not the whole stack." he chuckles sheepishly. he gets back up, picking up as many as he can.

you cover your mouth, trying not to let out an audible sob. even though you didn't know the freshman too well, this boy had left an impression on you with his cheeriness. that and the fact that this is the second time you've seen someone get eaten alive.

"hueningkai?" taehyun whispers. he takes several steps forward as if he's in a trance. "taehyun wait-"

"kai??" he raises his voice more but it cracks. the zombies in close proximity of you all snap their heads up at the sound of taehyun's voice. "tae we need to get out of here right n-"

"y/n!" you hear soobin call. you turn around to see beomgyu convulsing on the floor wildly. "w-what happened?" soobin shakes his head frantically. "he might be turning." you want to cry at the sight of your friend curled up in pain. you can tell he's trying to hold back his screams as to not draw attention to the group and get you all killed.

it's too late though because the zombies that were eating kai alive are now running towards you all. "what do we do?" yeonjun cries. you don't know what to do at this point. there's absolutely no saving beomgyu, who is currently turning. you go to grab taehyun's arm to at least try to save one person from your party but the zombie at the front of the group has already pounced on him. "NO!" you yell.

even though the zombie has sunk it's teeth into taehyun's ankle, you still try to drag him away in hopes of saving him. he's kicking at its face with the tiny sliver of strength he has left after being thrown to the floor. "don't worry taehyun im not leaving you," you huff.

you don't think you've ever had this much determination for anything ever. all you know is that someone's life is on the line and if you just try hard enough they might survive.

you're suddenly pulled back by your shirt when the entire group of zombies get to taehyun's idle body. "wait!" you reach out to him but it's too late. they've already began gnawing away at him. taehyun puts up a good fight but it's no use. there are too many of them.

he lets out a string of pained screams and all you can do is close your eyes.

"we have to go! we have to go," yeonjun screams. he shakes you to get you to get up but you have already given up. not one but three of the people who you've met have died. it hurts to know that they were once alive, smiling brightly with hope and life shining in their eyes.

it's not even the fact that prior to a zombie apocalypse happening you most likely gave no shits about these people but the stakes and circumstances have changed. of course now you care because you hoped they would love to see another day.

yeonjun sucks his teeth and picks you up. it takes a bit of extra strength on his part and he knows it'll slow him down tremendously but he doesn't care. "it's gonna be ok!" he reassures. you get a better view of soobin and beomgyu when he lifts you up and it makes you want to look away.

beomgyu's arm now has discolored veins that scale all the way up to him face. his eyes are glazed over and now white colored. you can see trances of dyed tears on his face but he's too far gone. he's dead and he's a threat to you all now.

"soobin r-!" yeonjun slaps his hand over you mouth so that you don't attract the zombies on taehyun to start going after you both.

soobin tries to hold his own against the now undead beomgyu and you can't exactly tell what's going on. yeonjun leads you away from the library and you can only hear a scream from who you assume is soobin.

"where are we going we can't just leave soobin behind like that!" you try to stand and halt the both of you but yeonjun harshly pulls you along. "yes we can and we will!" he barks. "there isn't a chance in hell that we could've saved him. it's us or him!"

he shoves you into the electrical room of the school. the door was thankfully unhinged otherwise the door would've remained locked.

there's nothing but silence minus the rapid breathing coming from you both. you go through what just happened and start to burst into tears, haphazardly wiping at your face but failing when more tears come down. yeonjun sighs, letting himself fall on the floor.

he doesn't even have time to rest before he hears a pounding coming from outside the door. "y/n? y-yeonjun? l-let me in!" you look over to yeonjun who's already looking at you wide eyed. "soobin?" you mumble. you go to stand but yeonjun launches himself at you. "hell no! soobin go away!" he yells.

"please open the door! they're coming! please!" soobin pleads. you shake your head, "yeonjun we have to help him please!"

yeonjun contemplates for a little bit longer than you'd like but he suddenly stands up. he gets to the door however he doesn't open it all the way. "are you bit? there's no way you came out of that unbitten."

soobin looks around unsure of himself. he grips onto his arm tighter from what you can see and you silently hope and pray he's not bit. however yeonjun also notices his suspicious behavior. "you're not coming in," he says. he starts closing the door again but soobin shoves past him.

yeonjun runs after him and tackles him to the ground. you look back at the door and you can hear the zombies that were following soobin approaching. you make a run for it to shut the door but yeonjun yells at you. "we have to leave it open for when i throw this asshole out of here!"

"but-" you wince when yeonjun punches soobin square in the face. it doesn't seem to phase the other boy as he growls and turns the tables on yeonjun. soobin has always been a bit stronger than yeonjun so it's no surprise that especially at this moment he's overpowering the other boy.

you rack your brain trying to come up with a logical plan. though you aren't being given many options. it's either wait until yeonjun manages to throw soobin out meaning you risk the group of zombies reaching you all or you lock yourself in the electrical room with an already bitten soobin.

you bite your lip watching soobin throw as many punches as he can with an unusable arm and yeonjun blocking them as best as he can. however, soobin was steadily getting weak and you could tell as well as yeonjun. with one swift push, soobin falls back onto the ground and yeonjun punches him again for good measure.

you can't see them well in the dimly lit electrical room however with the sliver of light pouring in from the door being open you can somewhat make out yeonjun's face. soobin sure did a number on him. his nose is dripping blood and his lips are bruised and swollen. his eye is also bruised and swollen and you're not sure if he can even see from it. god, he looks miserable.

he looks up at you and spits some blood out from his mouth. "lets get him out of here," he mumbles. you watch him get off soobin but he stumbles a bit. "yeonjun please hurry i think the zombies are coming," you tell him. he groans but says nothing in response.

yeonjun picks soobin up but once he has soobin's arm around his shoulder soobin starts shuddering. "you're gonna turn soon," yeonjun mumbles. soobin chuckles in between his shaking, "you care about me all of a sudden. i thought we were sworn enemies?"

yeonjun rolls his eyes, "whatever." if this were happening at any other time you might have smiled at them. you smile sadly when the two boys reach you at the door. you lean down to soobin's hunched over state and hold his face in your hands. "im sorry," you say. he shakes his head but says nothing to you.

"t-the gun," he mumbles in pain. you can see the veins starting to crawl up his shoulder and onto his neck now. "if we shoot you then the zombies that were after you are sure to start running towards here," yeonjun frowns. "soobin i don't think any of us are willing to k-kill you," you say as a tear rolls down your face.

his head snaps backwards violently then he slumps forward. "please," he manages to croak out.

you shut the door, closing your eyes. "y/n..." yeonjun says. "we can't let him die as one of those- those things!" you shout. yeonjun sighs, putting soobin down onto the floor. "think about this, you're about to kill another living being!"

"WHAT OTHER OPTION IS THERE?" you lash out. yeonjun stands there shocked at your outburst and the expression on his face makes you cry even harder than before. "what other option is there?" you cry softly.

you both look over to soobin who's now started convulsing on the floor. unlike beomgyu, this time he doesn't hold in his blood curling screams of pain. there isn't much time left before he turns.

you tentatively take the gun from his person and hold it up to his head. his eyes open momentarily and you see the fear in them flash through. he closes them tightly once again to brace himself and a tear rolls down his face. "i-im s-sorry," you cry. even as you hold the gun to his head, you hesitate. killing someone wasn't as easy as you thought. yeonjun walks up but not before wiping a tear from his face. "cmon."

he helps you hold the gun steady but removes your finger from the trigger. "close your eyes ok?" he whispers close to your ear. you sniffle, watching soobin struggle to keep his humanity. he opens and closes his eyes and keeps flinching and convulsing in different ways. you can tell he’s really in pain and not just because of his screams.

“im sorry soobin,” you cry. “im sorry!” you close your eyes tightly, waiting for yeonjun to pull the trigger.

you hold your breath and you can feel yeonjuns on the back of your head. his is nowhere near steady and you can’t imagine how he’s feeling having to kill another human being. his breathing is shaky and unsteady.

he tightens his grip on the gun and you feel his breath stop completely.

“three,” he mutters.

you’re sobbing uncontrollably at this point, unable to say the next number so he does it for you. “two.”

“one.”

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

taglist: @fxd-skz @jinniehyunjin @bluemoonnightmare @srcasticking-main @shuichi-sama @hyunjinsicedamerican0 @groovybiscuitdiplomatpeach @cutiegyu @gyyuniverse @strykiss @minari-iii @minheesmini @cha-raena @yuto-darling @hyunjinhasmyheart @whateveryouwant90 @peachy-maia @strawberryaourt @binniebutter

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fanfickittycat · 3 years

Text

Time After Time

TITLE: Time After Time

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One Shot

AUTHOR: fanfickittycat

FANDOM: Haikyuu!!

CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

GENRE: Hurt/Comfort

FIC SUMMARY: The lack of a response after confessing your feelings to Ushijima leaves you heartbroken, but all it took was some time

RATING: T

AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: My stupid sad brain and my desire to write about Ushijima combined to make this. If you’d like to read it on AO3 you can find it here

The words hung in the air as soon as they left your mouth. After the months of pining, and dreaming, and trying to get him to confess first, you had finally decided to bite the bullet and admit that you were hopelessly in love with the Ace of the Schweiden Adlers. The silence that followed was painful. You avoided his gaze, instead looking at your shoes, a pair of dark heels that you were hoping would bolster your confidence. In fairness to them, they had made you feel powerful and poised, but now it felt like balancing on stilts.

“Oh” his deep voice rumbled, breaking through your thoughts and sending the butterflies in your stomach fluttering all at once. You peeked up to look at him. He was so handsome. Tall and solid, with his bag slung over his shoulder from practise earlier in an effortless way that you admired. He always looked so cool without even meaning to. He was looking up at the pinks and oranges of the sky, letting the light of the setting sun cast his face in gold. Your heart somersaulted in your chest as you waited for something to follow. Anything. But he remained quiet, as the spring breeze ruffled his hair.

Dread began to set in. The flush of embarrassment and the chill of rejection created a cocktail of emotion inside of you, but you pressed your lips together and forced the sob in your throat to stay still. You knew you were going to cry and there was no stopping it, you just wanted to make sure you were away from him before the tears spilled.

“I-it’s okay” you said, your throat felt hoarse even though you hadn’t said much. You attempted to straighten up, to show him that you accepted his refusal of your affection. You tilted your head up, feeling the threat of tears in your eyes. Your lip quivered but you stayed rigid in your stance.

“I’m sorry I bothered you” you managed to say before a hot tear streamed down your face. You turned, letting go of a breath you had been holding for what felt like weeks. You marched away, willing your legs to take steps even though it felt like you suddenly forgot how to walk. You rounded a corner and stepped back so that the cool exterior of one of the buildings pressed against your back. You had half hoped to hear footsteps following after you; a cry of your name or something. Nothing. Dizziness filled your mind and you slid down the wall, hugging your legs to your chest as you wept into your knees. You knew you were being pathetic but really, you had believed that there was something there. Ushijima was always standoffish, but you had felt something kindled between you, a soft warmth that emitted every time his lips tugged into a small smile for you, or the way he’d listen to you and offer his advice sagely. Last week you had gone to a practise game of his and you’d cheered loudly enough to catch his attention. He had waved to you and even though the action was small it made you mindlessly happy for days. His cold demeanour meant that he didn’t do things like that for just anyone… But perhaps his tiny gestures were just that, insignificant. Maybe he was humouring you? Perhaps he smiled just because it was the basic kind thing to do; and he listened and offered advice because he wanted you to stop going on about your problems; maybe he just waved because he was being polite. The realisation sunk deep into you, seeping into your bones. You felt heavy and tired by the revelation. You stood up shakily, grasping at the brick wall behind you for support. You ended up grazing your hand a little, but the soreness felt good in a weird way. It brought your attention away from the turmoil in your heart. You made yourself walk home, wanting to take your time because you were afraid of having to confront the emotional maelstrom in you again. You felt like hell when you woke up the next morning. Your eyes burned, and when you rubbed them, you winced at the soreness. They felt swollen. Your nose hurt too from the constant blowing, and your mouth felt dry and stale. Pathetic was the first word in your mind. Followed quickly by sad, tragic, and pitiable. You had things to do today, places to be that weren’t your bedroom. You ran through the list of chores in your head: it was Saturday so you should change your sheets today, and clean the bathroom, and you needed to make a grocery list and go out to buy the stuff, and then you should get a head start on some work that would make Monday easier. You closed your eyes again and when you opened them two hours had gone by. You groaned into your pillow. Not only were you unfortunate, but you were also now behind on everything. A true mess. You pushed yourself to go take a shower, making the water colder than you usually liked in an attempt to shock you back to life.

You completed your tasks at home, but you felt lifeless doing it, like a zombie. The satisfaction that came with completing the chores didn’t come. You hoped the fresh air would help, and looked over your grocery list, feeling listless. You didn’t want to put any effort into the way you looked today, opting to throw on a pair of jeans that were ripped at the knee not because they came like that, but because they were old. Your hoodie was huge on you, but you had bought it with the deluded intention that this is what it would feel like to wear Ushijima’s. You looked at his clothes so fondly sometimes, jealous of the way they got to be so close to him. One night he had lent you his jacket because it was colder than the weather reports had predicted and you almost swooned. His jacket was sturdy and warm like him, and it smelt vaguely minty and clean like him. You had ended up falling asleep in his jacket, liking the way it felt like he was holding you.

The memory flooded back into your mind when you browsed the soap section, prompting your heart to race as you looked for his brand. When your eyes landed on it felt like a relief. A painful one, perhaps, but a relief all the same. Your hands hovered near the bottle. This was a way to stay close to him even when you couldn’t physically be with him. A link to the stoic man who had your heart. It was a little more expensive than the one you usually bought, and it stung that your normal brand was on sale, but you wanted to allow yourself one indulgence.

Outside the air was colder than last night. You’d heard something this morning about a cold spell hitting Tokyo as you folded your laundry, and you wished that you brought a scarf with you. Your arms ached from the weight of the bag in your hands. In the process of psyching yourself up to face the world you had forgotten your own bags and had to pay for some in the supermarket. The plastic, though biodegradable, felt thin in your cold hand. You gripped it tightly and turned to go home but your determination was interrupted by the thump of items hitting the ground.

“Fuck” you cursed under your breath, looking down at your groceries strewn about on the pavement. You could’ve cried there and then.

“I didn’t know you favoured this brand too” your blood turned to ice as your eyes snapped to the figure before you. He regarded the bottle calmly before starting to pick up the pack of spaghetti, and the bag of apples.

“U-Ushijima?” You hated that you stuttered but your mind was completely blank at this point. You couldn’t even fathom how you were able to form that many syllables.

“Here” he started to pile your things into his own empty bag.

“W-wait.” You put a handout to stop him, but he ignored you, continuing to put the rest of your things in his own grocery bag.

“It’s cold. Didn’t you hear the weather report?” He asked, finally standing to his full height. He looked down at you, head cocking to the side slightly like a spaniel. He began to unwind his scarf and placed it around your neck instead. The brush of his fingers against your bare neck made you shiver.

“What’re you doing?” you mumbled, looking down again. The sense of déjà vu was not lost on you as you regarded your everyday sneakers.

“I came to buy groceries” he said bluntly, and despite all the pain and anxiety coursing through you, you smiled. He was always so reliable.

“I was hoping I would run into you” he said after a beat, his hand held your chin making you gasp. He tilted it up, so you were no longer looking down, and this time he was meeting your gaze. His dark olive eyes bore into your own with an intensity that was difficult to hold.

“You don’t need to apologise or anything.”

“You’re wrong” he said “I do. I’m sorry.” You nodded at his words, disappointed once again that you were still holding out for him.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, I…” he stopped himself, and pressed his lips into a firm line. You blinked a couple of times to make sure you were seeing things right. Ushijima was so candid all the time that the sight of him hesitating was new. He looked away momentarily.

“I return your affections” he said, and you stared in awe as a faint pink blush blossomed in his cheeks.

“You don’t have to say that.” He looked you in the eyes again, softer this time. His thumb absentmindedly began to stroke itself across your heated cheeks.

“Yes I do. I love you and I’m sorry I couldn’t say it yesterday.”

“Ushi…” you practically melted despite the chill in the air. He leaned down and pressed a kiss onto your forehead, making your head swim.

“Come” he said, letting go of your face in exchange for your hand “I’ll make dinner.” You made no attempt to protest against his wishes, instead letting him lead you in the direction of his own apartment.

“I love you too.”

#fanfickittycat #updates #fanfic #fanfiction #haikyu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu ushijima #haikyuu ushiwaka #haikyuu ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hc #anime fanfic

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mae-gi-writes · 3 years

Text

From Now On | Kevin (The Boyz)

You break down with Kevin when a loved one passes away.

Genre: angst, fluff, sad, mention of death, Kevin moon is an angel

A/N: for a very special soul. <3 I love you. Stay strong.

----

Numb. Empty. Void.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“My sympathies.”

“She was an amazing woman.”

A hand on your shoulder. You don’t bother looking up, “I can’t imagine how hard it must be.”

No, you think to yourself. You can’t. Because right now, I am walking through hell.

There is an abundance of hushed murmurs that fill the room where your mother lays in her casket, looking so ethereally beautiful and serene with her eyes closed and a tinted pink flush scattered over her cheeks. But that’s all a lie, for you know exactly without looking too closely that her chest isn’t rising and falling as its supposed to be.

“Y/N,” another hand on your shoulder, though this time you recognize the sadness etched in your older brother’s tone. Turning to see Hyunjae’s composed features, what gives him away is the puffiness of his eyes, the scarlet tint to his nose.

Almost instinctively, your hand reaches out to grasp his arm. A reminder that you are here, with him. Next to him.

“I can’t find the sandwiches,” he croaks out in the shell of your ear, quiet enough so that no one can hear, “could you help me find them? I think the guests--”

At this point you can already feel his voice choke up and trip over itself. You squeeze his arm in a gentle manner, “I got it,” you send him what hopes is a sweet smile, though it can hardly pull up your cheeks, before slipping away intot the kitchen.

It’s impossible to navigate through the swarm of bodies currently littering the corridors. You maneuver yourself to the best of your ability but soon get yourself trapped between a few older women who claim to be your mother’s old classmates, which does not help the tide of pain wrenching through your chest and practically snapping your heartstrings in two every single time the reminder echoes through your mind.

“She was such a dear! So talented! You look just like her you know,” one of the ladies say with overzealous flair and with tears dotting her eyes. It makes you feel sick, though you manage to plaster a shaky smile.

“It’s sad that I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her,” another sniffled into her tissue.

“It must be ten times worse for you, Y/N,” they throw you a bunch of watery-eyed gazes and it takes all of your self-control not to scream in their faces to leave you the fuck alone.

You take a step away, “Sorry, I’m just really busy. I’ll talk to you guys later--”

“But wait Y/N, we want to know more,” one of them cry out.

The other tugs onto your arm, “we can’t believe it happened. And she was so young too.”

Your brain is screaming at you to run away. To hide. Anything to stop the slow pain spreading through your limbs and causing you to freeze up, your heart clenching and your lungs squeezing so hard through your chest. It’s hard to breathe. Like drowning underwater. Ears blocked and through raw.

You don’t realize that you’ve stumbled back a few steps their arms pull you forward. The women keep on talking over you in hurried sopranos, their voices bouncing around in your skull and causing your head to pound.

It’s too hard. It’s too much. The memory of your mother’s face surges up through you. The way she died, unfairly, too young. Tears gather before you know it and you can’t breathe and can’t breathe can’t breathe --

“Sorry, I’ll have to steal Y/N for a bit.”

A hand clamps down on your shoulder, pulls you away. The voices fall away and you take this moment to focus yourself on the warmth of the hand gently holding on to you as its owner steers you away until you are clearly out in the terrace.

It is only then that you manage to let out a shaky exhale. Your headache clears, just a little bit.

And it is only when he speaks that your eyes slide up to the said voice in question.

Kevin gazes down at you wordlessly, maroon orbs soft in the dim afternoon light.

“Hey, you okay?”

Gratefulness rushes to your heart, just as your eyes fill with unexpected tears.

You burst into sobs.

It takes only a second for Kevin’s arms to wrap around your shoulders before he tugs you over to his chest, and as you bawl your eyes out at the unfairness of the world that you can’t even say goodbye to that one person who’s been present from the moment you were born, your hands find purchase onto his shirt if only in a pathetic attempt to stop yourself from getting overwhelmed by the amount of emotion that rips through your throat in the form of hoarse whimpers.

“Shh,” Kevin mumbles a bunch of sweet nothings in your ear and though you loathe the fake sympathy that comes with a crowd that barely knows you and much less what you are currently going through, you can’t find the energy to push your boyfriend away.

After all, you do trust him more than yourself. For once, you allow your walls to come down.

You cry and cry and cry.

You cry, until there seems to be nothing left of your tears, until your tear ducts have dried out and until your entire body seems to be shaking with barely restrained tiredness.

And through it all, Kevin holds on to you. He holds on like he’s never planning to let go, and your hands clench a little tighter, you hold him a little closer.

A while later, after almost all guests have vacated your house and after you’ve managed to nod at Hyunjae when asked whether you’re doing okay, you manage to retreat to your room with Kevin in tow, his hand holding onto yours and providing you with a warmth that brings you comfort.

He sits beside you on your bed as you both watch the sun set in the distance, pinkish hues dominating the sky and painting it in various shades of golden orange and red.

It’s beautiful and yet saddening at the same time to see the first day go by without your mother’s gentle voice floating from the kitchen. The emptiness lingers in the air, a void that mimics the hole in your heart.

I miss you.

More tears slowly well up at the corner of your eyes and you quickly wipe them away adamantly. You’ve cried enough these past few hours. Enough is enough.

I’m sorry I never told you how much I loved you.

Kevin’s thumb rubs comforting circles over the back of your knuckles. In the silence, you allow yourself to bask in his presence.

That is really all you need for now. Nothing more. Nothing else.

Just time. Time to heal. Time to suffer. Time to just exist until the pain ebbs away.

I’m sorry I took you for granted.

“Y/N,” Kevin’s soft murmur reaches your ears, “you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head before biting your lip so hard you taste blood.

“Okay,” he mumbles. That’s when he beckons you into his arms, an embrace that you gladly accept as you crawl into his lap and curl up -- head pressed against the crook of his neck and hands held close to your chest -- as his head comes to a rest atop yours, but not before pressing a gentle peck to your forehead.

“You know,” his words are muffled against your temple, lips moving against your skin with lingering warmth, “you don’t have to hold it in with me right? I don’t--I care about you. I don’t want you thinking that I can’t handle it. Because that’s what I’m here for.”

God. This man. A sob almost crawls out of your throat. So you nod, grip his shirt a little tighter. His scent washes over you, a mixture of pine and a dash of coffee mixed in with a boyish smell that comes from his deodorant.

It makes you feel at home. At ease. At least with Kevin, there’s no playing pretend.

You’re unsure whether you fell asleep in his embrace, but before you know it your eyes are drowsily fluttering open to meet Kevin’s back. You go to call out his name, only for the smell of fried food hitting your nostrils and turning your head to catch sight of the plate of untouched food by your nightstand, your heart can’t help but melt a little at his thoughtfulness.

Noticing your movement, the said young man turns before smiling down at you softly, “hey,” he murmurs gently, practically throwing his phone on the other side of the bed and crawling over to where you lie, “you hungry? I brought food. Or rather, Hyunjae did.”

You know you should eat. God knows when was the last time you’d eaten. But the thought causes your stomach to churn slightly and you shake your head.

“But Hyunjae brought your favourite: meat buns,” Kevin pouts ever so slightly, and pairing that with the slight rumble of your stomach makes you cave in.

So you nod and he grins back at you, quickly scrambling to your bedside so that he can feed you before you can even protest. You find you don’t have the energy to, only watching him peel off the wrapper and break it into small, bite-sized pieces.

“Ah,” he holds one out to you and you accept it begrudgingly. You’ve never been too fond of being taken care of. But at this precise moment, you can’t find it in yourself to argue, especially since Kevin has been nothing but your pillar of support throughout the last few hours. How you would’ve managed without him, you don’t even know yourself.

As he feeds you the rest of the bun, he talks aimlessly about the food vlog on youtube that he’s just binge-watched and how he wishes to visit New York someday to be able to try out all these fancy street foods that keep haunting his dreams. Somewhere along the line, you realize that it’s a little easier to swallow, a little easier to smile up at your doting boyfriend talking animatedly while swinging his arms around. He always does that whenever he gets overexcited.

Right now, he’s moved on to talking about safe driving on roads implemented by AI technology, “seriously though, it’s kind of scary how technology can do everything these days. At this point we’re not going to have a zombie apocalypse but rather a robot apocalypse. Can you imagine?”

“Then they’d be easier to kill, wouldn’t they?” you mumble out, and while it is soft and barely coherent, Kevin’s ears perk up at your participation. That’s probably the first word that falls from your mouth ever since you woke up.

“I guess so, unless they’re already programmed with a hundred of ninja combat moves or something,” he shrugs, moves a little closer to wipe off a few bits of flour stuck to the corner of your lips, “maybe they can even google search it and analyze movements within seconds,” he shudders at the thought, “ooh, scary.”

“Kevin?”

“Hm?” his eyes peer into yours, coffee-coloured orbs swirling with naked affection, hand pushing away a stray strand from your face.

When you speak next, you feel a sob catching in the back of your throat, “thank you,” you swallow hard, “for everything.”

It happens all too fast. The way Kevin’s arms reach out to swallow you up once more in a bone-crushing hug that leaves you breathless, his lips permanently pressed to your forehead before he nuzzles his nose into your cheek.

“You don’t have to say thank you,” he murmurs in-between the smallest of pecks he litters across your cheekbone, “that’s what I’m here for.”

The familiar sting of tears cause your eyes to grow glossy, but this time it’s almost as if your own heart feels a little lighter, a little less burdened. Sleeping had done you some good, and eating had appeased the swelling ache in your stomach.

But Kevin. Kevin had definitely patched up a band-aid over your heart.

"I know it’s going to be hard, these few months to come,” Kevin continues in a gentle murmur, “but from now on, if you feel like you cant handle it, you have me.”

Your murmur out a soft agreement, but that doesn’t seem to cut it, for Kevin’s fingers clasp your jaw to tilt it upwards. Your eyes slide to his, intense and persistent.

“Y/N, I got you. Okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble.

He keeps on watching you for a few more silent seconds. Satisfied then, he pulls you back against him, tucking your face into the crook of his neck once more and placing a chaste kiss right upon your left eyelid, then right eyelid. Then down to peck your lips as your breath stutters out shakily.

“I’ll be there.”

It’s a promise. A promise for better days. And hugging him a little tighter, you can’t help but believe in the hope laced through Kevin’s words.

-----

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reinerispretty · 4 years

Text

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt24

GOOD EVENING GUYS GALS AND NONBINARY PALS!!!!! i hope u are having a good day. :)

pt1

pt23

pt25

(Y/N) stormed down through the palace, her dress billowing behind her as she walked. The stone cold look on her face alerted the servants that she was on a war path and it was best to leave her alone. Whatever the Fire Lord had gotten himself into, he surely deserved it.

It was relatively early in the morning when (Y/N) opened her bedroom door to find Ursa holding a sleepy Kiyi in her arms. The previous Fire Queen gave her a stressed smile. “Noren and I wanted to go out into town today. Do you think you could watch her?” (Y/N) nodded quickly.

“Of course! Today’s my day off.” She bent down so she was eye level with the little girl. “Do you want to have fun with me today, Kiyi?” The little girl sheepishly turned into her mother’s neck.

“She’ll warm up to you,” Ursa promised, before handing her daughter to (Y/N). “Thank you so much, (Y/N).” She smiled.

“Anything for you.” Kiyi squirmed in her arms as Ursa walked away, obviously very uncomfortable with being left alone with her. (Y/N) set her on the ground and took her hand.

“Would you like to go see the turtle ducks?” Kiyi looked up at her and nodded eagerly. They walked to the pond and one of the servants gave them grapes to feed to the animals. She and Kiyi took turns throwing their grapes in. The little girl gave a small giggle every time a turtle duck ate her grape.

“What would you like to do next?” (Y/N) asked once they had finished feeding the turtle ducks. Kiyi put a tiny finger on her chin and looked up at the sky as she thought.

“Dolls!” She exclaimed. (Y/N) picked her back up and they walked into the palace and to Kiyi’s room. Zuko had ensured that his little sister would be absolutely comfortable while she stayed in the palace, so he had her pick all of the toys she liked from in town and brought them back into her room. She was incredibly spoiled, but she was so sweet that she deserved it.

(Y/N) sat on the floor with Kiyi and played dolls with her. She couldn’t remember playing with dolls in her own childhood. She had received them as gifts, but her mother would put them in a case, claiming that they were too pretty to be played with. Azula had been her only other friend beside Zuko, and neither were very interested in playing with dolls.

“There you are,” Zuko said as he poked his head into the room. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Zuzu!” Kiyi cheered, standing up and running over to her brother. She hugged his legs.

“Kiyi!” Zuko cheered back, picking her up and taking her into his arms. (Y/N) smiled at the sight. “What have you and (Y/N) been up to?”

“Dolls!” She turned herself to point at the toys.

“And we fed the turtle ducks,” (Y/N) stood to join the two. “And now it’s time for a nap, I think!”

“No!” Kiyi groaned, flopping over in Zuko’s arms. He started tickling her, causing her to erupt into giggles. He tossed her into (Y/N’s) arms, who tossed her gently into bed.

“I’ll read you a story and then you gotta go to sleep, okay?” Kiyi gave a small sigh and nodded. Zuko leaned down and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

“We’ll have extra fruit tarts for dessert if you take your nap,” He whispered. The smile on her face was wide and bright and it absolutely melted (Y/N’s) heart. “I’ll see you later,” Zuko said to (Y/N) before leaving the room. She knelt by Kiyi’s bed and began reading her the story about the first firebenders.

As Kiyi fell asleep, a servant knocked at the door. (Y/N) got up quickly and rushed outside so that Kiyi wouldn’t wake up. She smiled pleasantly at the servant. “Can I help you?”

“This came for you today,” The woman said as she handed her a scroll. (Y/N) gave her an approving nod to dismiss her.

As she read, she clenched the paper in her hands. Ren had written her a goodbye letter that stated that Zuko had banished him and his father from the Fire Nation. “I think I made him jealous,” Ren wrote, “Because I was taking your time away from him.” (Y/N) tried her best to hold in the hot, angry tears that formed as she read his letter.

(Y/N) missed Katara a lot. Throughout their adventures together, Katara had become her best friend and the person she told absolutely everything to. Every hope, every dream, everything she ever felt seemed to flow out of her mouth and straight to Katara. Their relationship wasn’t one-sided either. (Y/N) was the first person from the Fire Nation that Katara had ever liked. She showed her that not everyone should be held accountable for the decisions of their nation. The two girls grew up in completely different lives, but their bond was strong. She hadn’t seen Katara in a few months, which was the longest span of time they had gone without seeing each other. Today, (Y/N) felt that she really needed Katara, or else she might kill Zuko.

She crumpled the note in her hands and threw it down the hall. Katara would tell her to get both sides of the story before making any rash decisions. But Katara, unfortunately, wasn’t there.

As she walked up to the doors of the throne room, the guards stationed out front held a hand up to stop her. “You must request an audience before speaking with the Fire Lord,” one guard said. (Y/N) squinted her eyes up at the guard. She hated using her position as leverage against people, but she had no choice at the moment.

“I’m (Y/N), Fire Lord Zuko’s most trusted advisor. I need to speak to him immediately.”

“But--” The other guard said. (Y/N) whirled to face him.

“What do you think the Fire Lord would say if he knew you delayed me?” The guards looked at each other before parting to let her through the doors.

Zuko sat on his throne, drinking a steaming cup of tea. He smiled when he say her.

“Oh, hi.” (Y/N) stared at Zuko, crossing her arms over her chest and glowering up at him.

“Do you have anything you want to tell me?” She demanded. Zuko opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him. “You had no right to banish Ren and his father the way you did. And for what reason? Were you upset that I was paying more attention to him than I was to you?”

“That’s not it.”

“Why, Zuko? Why throw him out? What did he do to you?”

“He didn’t do anything to me--”

“Then tell me why you banished him!” She shouted. She could feel the fire building inside of her. Her body was itching to release it. She couldn’t understand why Zuko would do this to her. She had seen him be jealous before, but she never thought he would be capable of hurting her like this.

“Because he was using you!” Zuko yelled. The flames at his side soared to the ceiling. Their force blew a blast of hot air into (Y/N’s) face. “He was planning to gain your trust so that he could use you to get to me.”

She shook her head furiously. “You’re lying. He wouldn’t do that.” Zuko stood and walked down the steps to get closer to her.

“He was doing it! The whole reason he even befriended you in the first place was so that you could help sway my decisions in their favor.” His statement felt like a stab in the heart to (Y/N). She didn’t want to believe him. She didn’t want to believe that the person she had opened up to so easily was just using her the entire time.

Her eyes welled with tears. “You’re wrong!”

“Fine! Believe the Earth Kingdom boy over me, see if I care. You can join him if you’d like.” Zuko turned around to walk back to his throne, but stopped as soon as he heard her sobs. When he looked back at her, her face was buried in her hands. She tried her hardest to suppress her cries, but it was no use. (Y/N) knew Zuko was telling the truth. She knew Zuko like she knew herself. He had never lied to her before and would have no reason to start now. But his honesty hurt. (Y/N) had told Ren things that she had only ever told those closest to her. To think that he was only using her to further his own political advantages broke her heart. The feeling of being used was new, but she hated it.

“Hey,” Zuko said softly, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t actually want you to leave. I just got upset.” She continued to cry, so he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Sit with me.” He led her up the steps to his throne and sat her down. He was right at her side, pouring her a cup of tea.

She finally calmed down enough to speak. Her body still shook with leftover sobs, but she tried her best to contain them. “I can’t believe I couldn’t tell.”

“He was a pretty good actor.”

“You saw right through him.” She turned to Zuko. Her eyes were still shiny with tears. “When you first met him. How’d you know?”

“I thought he was a little too confident for someone standing in the presence of the Fire Lord.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I’m serious! He was too bold. I saw your face when he called himself your boyfriend. I knew something had to be up.”

(Y/N) sipped her tea slowly. It wasn’t as good as Iroh’s, but it would do. “Why would he use me?”

“He probably read up on us and knew how close we are.”

“Yeah, but I can’t even convince you to get out of bed on time. What made him think that I could force a political agenda on you?”

“(Y/N), if you asked me to move a volcano for you, I’d figure out how to do it.”

“That’s too easy,” She said with a smile. “All you’d need are earth and firebenders.” Zuko rolled his eyes.

“You get the point. I’d do absolutely anything for you. He figured that out.”

(Y/N) stared at Zuko for a long time. She had memorized practically every inch of his face. From his amber eyes to the deep red color of his scar, Zuko was etched into her mind like a stone carving. Ren was the distraction that she had needed to keep her mind off of Zuko. But he was gone now, and so she had nothing to keep her from pining for him.

“I think maybe I should take a vacation,” She said quietly, turning back to stare at her cup. “A few weeks or something. I could stay with Katara or Toph. Probably Katara, because I don’t think Toph has any beds.”

“If that’s what you want,” Zuko said. A sad smile graced his features.

“You could invite Mai to stay in the palace while I’m gone, so you don’t get so lonely.” Zuko turned away. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Mai and I aren’t together anymore. We haven’t been since before I found my mother.”

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“You and I hadn’t exactly been the best of friends before I left.” (Y/N) frowned. So he had noticed her distance. He was quiet for a few moments, and then asked, “I thought things were going well for us. Then it was like you were pushing me away.”

“I’m sorry,” She whispered. “I just couldn’t handle it.”

“Handle what? Me being me Fire Lord?” She shook her head. “Being back here?”

“No, it’s not that at all.” She felt her mouth become dry all of a sudden. She should do it. She should just tell him everything.

“I couldn’t handle being around you and Mai.”

“Me and Mai? Why?”

“Do I have to lay it all out for you?” She felt hot. The room was big, but she felt so confined. “I love you, Zuko. I loved you when were kids, I loved you when we were enemies, and I loved you when you were dating Mai. So that’s why I couldn’t be around the two of you.”

(Y/N) could feel Zuko’s eyes on her, but she refused to look at him. The silence only increased the embarrassment of the moment for her. She felt like running away.

“You’re an idiot.” (Y/N) whirled to stare at him, her mouth open in shock.

“Excuse me?”

“How was I supposed to know that’s how you felt if you never told me?”

“I thought it was pretty obvious.”

“No, it wasn’t! You’re not the open book you think you are. You literally fought me in an Agni Kai, how was I supposed to know you loved me?”

“I saved your life!”

“You saved lives like every day! How was I supposed to be different?” (Y/N) opened her mouth to speak, but immediately closed it. Perhaps he was right. She hadn’t really given him any indication of how she felt about him. She huffed and crossed her arms, turning away from him.

Zuko put his hand on her cheek, turning her head to look back at him. He stroked his cheek with her thumb. She closed her eyes tightly to brace herself for the impending rejection.

Instead, ever so softly, she felt Zuko’s lips press to hers. Her fingers wrapped around the fabric of his robes, trying to pull him closer but not quite sure if she should hold back.

When they pulled away, (Y/N) opened her eyes quickly, searching Zuko’s face for any sign of remorse. Instead, he smiled at her. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, you’re kind of scary.” (Y/N) giggled. “And I thought that after everything that happened, there would be no way for me to have a chance with you.” Zuko kissed her forehead, each of her cheeks, and then her nose. (Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that took over her face. “I love you, (Y/N). Always have, always will.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. So many terrible things had happened to them during their lives. But in this moment, if she had to relive it all over again, (Y/N) wouldn’t change anything.

#atla #the last airbender #aang x reader #zuko x reader #sokka x reader #sokka #zuko #aang #katara #toph #iroh #azula #momo #appa #writing #fanfiction

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