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restlessfandoming · 3 years

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“the president and the troublemaker” (part 1) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

if anyone has seen maid-sama, Lumine and Childe sometimes reminded me of Misaki and Usui so i had to write it hehe :3 if you haven’t seen it, i highly suggest it, its a very cute anime and if you like chilumi, you’ll definitely like the main couple in it! its on netflix! :D

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link]

* * *

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 1)

“Childe, for the last time, earrings are against the school uniform code,” Lumine said to him, eyes narrowing at the red jewelry dangling from his ear. He may have towered over her, but she was the student council president—she had to enforce the rules no matter what.

Childe tilted his head, fingers grazing over his earring. “A tiny thing like this? Surely you can let me off the hook, Madame President?”

“No exceptions. Remove it now or I will forcibly confiscate it from you.”

He scoffed, turning away. “I’d like to see you try.”

Lumine clenched her jaw, watching his back retreat down the hallway. Oh, she could easily take it from him. But this wasn’t the place to use brute force. As much as he boiled her blood, she wouldn’t dare reveal her secret here.

Childe, the school’s number one troublemaker: always getting into fights, never listening to authorities, doing whatever he pleased. And the worst part? He always got away with it.

The girls of the school fawned over his good looks, the boys envied his strength, and the elders fell victim to his charisma.

Not Lumine though. She refused to be influenced by him. Maybe that’s why he always seemed so annoyed by her. Good.

She ripped out a page of her student council notebook, scribbling out Childe’s name and dress code violation, pocketing it to turn in later.

She practically stomped her way into the student council room, earning a glance from the Vice President—her twin brother Aether.

“Childe?” he asked, going back to typing on his laptop.

Lumine slumped in her chair. “Yes,” she nearly growled. “How did you know?”

“Because he always puts you in the worst of moods,” her brother answered. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to put him in his place.”

“And get kicked out of school for murder? No thank you; I’m not ruining an absolutely clean record for the likes of someone like Childe.” She flipped through her notebook, seeing all her citations on said troublemaker. “Soon enough, that boy is going to get expelled, mark my words.”

Suddenly, the door burst open, and the student council reporter—a student named Bennett—dashed in, holding the side of his face.

“Madame President!” he announced. “There’s a fight breaking out in the hallway!”

Both Aether and Lumine stood. “What happened to your face, Bennett?” Aether asked.

The reporter let out a sheepish laugh. “I, uh, tried to break up the fight but ended up getting punched in the face.”

“Okay, c’mon, let’s get you to the nurse,” Aether said, walking Bennett out the door.

Lumine quickly walked out after them, hearing the commotion down the hallway. As she turned the corner, there was a crowd of students circled around the tussle.

“Out of the way!” Lumine shouted.

At the sound of her voice, many students scattered back to their classrooms, leaving only the perpetrators still fighting: a short boy with cropped blue hair and—Childe.

“Hey!” she yelled. “Break. It. Up! Or it’s suspension for the both of you!”

The short boy gave Childe a harsh shove, adjusting his odd cap with tassels on the sides. “You don’t have to fight me every time you see me, you brute,” the boy hissed.

Childe laughed. “C’mon, Scaramouche, don’t be like that,” the ginger said. “We were just having some fun, Madame President; no need to make a big fuss out of it.”

Lumine glared at him. “Why are you always at the center of trouble?”

Childe shrugged. “Life’s too boring.”

Taking out her notebook, she scoffed. “Well, it’s about to get a whole lot more boring for you. Detention. After school. Both of you.”

“It was just some play fighting between friends, Pres,” Childe insisted. “Don’t be so stuck-up.”

“Not play fighting when one of my council members gets hit in the face,” she retorted angrily.

“Can I at least be let off the hook?” Scaramouche interjected. “He was the one who attacked me.”

The blonde sighed. “Fine. This was your first offense anyways.”

“Today’s his first day after all,” Childe supplied.

“It’s his first day and you welcomed him by attacking him?” Lumine asked, crossing her arms.

He smiled. “What can I say? We know each other.”

I want to punch that smile off his face. “Scaramouche, go back to class. Childe, you’re coming with me to in-school suspension.”

Scaramouche muttered something under his breath and walked away, while Childe cheerfully waved goodbye to him.

Lumine started walking down the other way, towards the ISS room, Childe’s footsteps falling in behind her. Most of the way was done in silence. Until—

“Say, Pres, why are you so stuck-up?” Childe asked.

Lumine grit her teeth. “Have you ever thought maybe I’m not stuck-up, and maybe you’re just a troublemaker?”

“Hey, at least I make your life a little more interesting, don’t I?”

“Not interesting. So much more unbearable.”

“Maybe you should loosen up. Being like this won’t make you many friends.”

“And fighting people will?”

“Fighting is fun. You’re telling me you’ve never watched a fight and found it entertaining?”

Lumine stopped in her tracks. “Of course not. You only do it when something’s seriously on the line. Not for fun.”

“Uh-uhm, excuse me,” a timid voice said.

Lumine turned to find a girl, she looked young, probably a freshman, clutching a card. “Can I help you?” the president asked.

“A-actually,” the girl responded, “can I t-talk to Ch-Childe? A-Alone?”

The blonde glanced at Childe, who shrugged back at her. Letting out a sigh, she said, “Yes, go ahead.” She was doing this for the girl. Not Childe.

She walked ahead and turned the corner until she was out of sight and unable to hear. After a minute or so, the freshman girl ran past her, hysterically crying. Brows furrowed, she went back to Childe.

“So, where are we going?” he asked nonchalantly.

Asshole. “What the hell did you do to her?” Lumine asked. “Do I really need to write you up again?”

“What? All I did was reject her confession.”

A glare at him. “Be nicer. Don’t make girls cry.” She continued walking.

“Or maybe she should just be stronger.”

“Don’t you dare insult a girl’s strength in front of me.”

“I’m not insulting the strength of a woman. I’m just saying people in general could do better if only they were stronger.” His strides quickened, and soon he was in front of her. He flicked the earring dangling from his ear. “For instance, if you had the strength, you could easily rip this from my ear, and you could stop stacking up those useless dress code citations for me.”

Lumine had to clench her teeth to stop herself from murdering him on the spot. “I’m your student council president. I don’t solve things through violence. Which is why you and I are different.” Lie, her gut hissed.

She stopped, throwing open the door to her left, gesturing into the room. “You’ll spend the rest of the school day here.” She turned in, looking at the teacher. “Mr. Diluc, you have a student here for in-school suspension for the rest of the day.”

Mr. Diluc glanced up from his book, expressionless. “Childe. Back so soon?”

Childe sauntered in, taking a seat. “You know our Pres. Always working on cleaning up the school from scum like me.”

“Good for her,” Diluc said. “Thank you, Lumine.”

Lumine nodded and closed the door behind her. Finally.

At least Childe wouldn’t be causing anymore trouble today.

* * *

Lumine shivered as the chilling locker room hit her bare skin. Shedding her hoodie, she donned a simple black sports tank top and shorts.

“Are they ever going to get heaters for these locker rooms?” she muttered.

“It’s an underground fighting ring,” Aether said, “You think they can afford state-of-the-art locker rooms?” He tossed her a roll of hand wraps.

She caught it, unraveling it, and started to wrap them around her knuckles. “You’re right. As long as they pay me, I shouldn’t be complaining.”

Aether nodded, taking her gloves out from her gym bag. “Are you ever going to tell Mom how you get all this cash?”

“Never. She’d probably die of a heart attack.”

“And your injuries?”

“I try not to get any,” she said with a smirk. “If I do, then, hey, the restaurant business can be dangerous...and I can be clumsy.”

And that was her big secret.

In the night, Lumine was a top tier fighter in Teyvat’s underground fighting ring. She was known as “The Outlander.”

After their father had walked out on them years ago, Lumine, Aether, and their mother were left with a huge amount of his debt to pay off. Their mother took on two jobs to support them, leaving her exhausted, sickly, and barely home. Lumine and Aether couldn’t find decent paying jobs at their age, so Lumine took matters into her own hands.

Through her tenacity, she trained hard and started showing up to the underground fights, learning her way through the system, and eventually began fighting herself. Sure, it was illegal due to the violence and betting system, but it made good money—fast. Enough money to support their family, pay off the debt, and save some aside for her and Aether’s future.

Aether of course still worked as a cashier at a local grocery store (next to the restaurant Lumine claimed she worked at); Lumine would never let her dear brother participate in her line of work. He was only allowed to come along to cheer her on.

She was also good at it. After some training, her instructors all praised her natural fighting instincts. In a matter of months, she had become one of the top fighters in her area.

It was out of necessity. They needed the money.

Of course, no one knew who she really was. She always fought with a mask on—she couldn’t let her identity be compromised. A high school student beating up all these grown adults? A chance she could be recognized and reported to authorities? No. Way. Plus, people liked the mysterious Outlander figure. Might as well milk it.

The cheers above her swelled, and Lumine did her final stretches and prepped to go out on stage.

“You ready to fight tonight?” Aether asked.

Lumine slipped her mask on. “Always.”

She made her way up the staircase, and the buzzing crowd grew louder and louder, until she entered the arena, and the cheers became deafening.

The arena was probably around the size of her school gym, maybe smaller, but packed to the brim with cheering fans and a boxing cage in the middle.

She made her way up to the cage, chants of “Outlander” swirling around her, and took her walk around the area, getting a feel for the night. Eventually, her mind blurred out the crowd, focusing on becoming in tune with her body.

Tonight, her opponent was another member of the Hilichurl gang: a gang notorious for entering lots of members into these types of fights, even if they weren’t good, as a way to try and earn any kind of money for their gang. It was an easy win. Lumine barely got hit. (The Hilichurl on the other hand ended the night sobbing his heart out on stage. Lumine felt kind of bad. Kind of.)

Soon enough, she and Aether were on their way home with a fresh wad of cash in their bag, practically skipping their way past the dim street lights. As they made their way towards their bus home, Lumine rifled through her bag, realizing she had left one of her textbooks in the locker room from when she had been studying before the fight.

She cursed. Now she had to go all the way back to the arena. “Aether, you need to get home—the next bus won’t be here for another hour.”

“Lumine, I am not leaving you alone in this sketchy part of town.”

“And you have to be there when Mom gets back, otherwise she’ll get suspicious.” Lumine was already turning around. “Tell her I had to stay behind at the restaurant to help clean up.”

Her brother pursed his lips.

“Aether. I’ll be fine. Did you seriously forget what I did to get that stack of cash?” she reassured.

He sighed. “Fine, fine. You’re right.” He hugged his sister. “Still. Be careful, please.”

She held up her fist which was still wrapped in the fighter’s tape. “Of course. See you back home.”

With that, the twins went separate ways.

Now maskless, Lumine went the back ways to the arena, entering through a side door, avoiding the still rowdy crowd of spectators gathered for the late night fights. She successfully grabbed her textbook, and walked back out the side door. Straight into somebody.

Shit. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, keeping her head down, hoping they wouldn’t ask why some little high school girl was sneaking around the underground fighting arena.

But then the person spoke.

“Wow,” a familiar voice said.

Lumine looked up, wide eyed. Shitshitshitshit—

“This is a surprise,” Childe said, “Madame President.”

* * *

[part 2]

#genshin impact #genshin childe #genshin lumine #genshin tartaglia #childe #lumine #tartaglia #childe x lumine #lumine x childe #chilumi #lumichilde #genshin impact fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #me

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s4ijoh · 3 years

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meet me halfway (across the globe). suna rintarou

SUNA RINTAROU X GN! READER

GENRE: slice of life; facetime call; fluff

WORD COUNT: 1.4k+

WARNINGS: established relationship; mentions of stress

in which suna is somewhere far away…

[10:22] rin: “you up?”

[10:23] rin: “big game tomorrow morning.”

[10:23] rin: “cant’ sleep. need to see u.”

the phone buzzing on the bedside table startles you out of your morning somnolence. the empty spot in bed next to you feels a weird type of unfamiliar. you drowsily stretch your arms out, reaching for the ringing device while dragging out a loud yawn.

you are taken aback by surprise once you take a look at the numbers displayed on your phones lock screen: 10:25am. its already past midnight in his timezone. he shouldn’t be up this late.

swiping through your phone's screen, you waste no time in dialling his number once you come across the green facetime icon and luckily, it is only a brief moment until he is picking up and oh boy are you met with a sight to behold. if it werent for your concern, you could’ve just stayed there, marvelling in awe at your boyfriend, sitting shirtless against the headboard in all his glory. his pale skin is gleaming a beautiful shade of orange under the dim light of the table lamp thus reminiscing a statue made of gold; his tousled, black feathery hair sticking in all different directions yet with just a few loose strands cascading down the sides of his temple and framing his face in such way that made him look effortlessly handsome.

he looked as beautiful as ever. however, despite the apparent picture perfect scenario, you would be a fool not to notice the clear signs of restlessness showcased on his features nonetheless.

“sorry, did i wake you?” suna apologizes tenderly with a doting frown on his face once he notices your lids still heavy with vestiges of somnolence just barely peeking from the bottom of the screen. your phone is propped up on your chest, the lower half of your face hidden away from him as you refuse to get up from your comfortable position laying under the warm blankets.

“dont worry about it, baby.” you hurriedly push his apologies aside whilst rubbing the sleep off your eyes to try and not make him feel too bad about it “you know you can call me anytime. im always waiting for you on the other end whenever you need me”

he offers you a subtle smile, although its odd — its weak, not sincere. it is not the usual signature smirk with a teasing remark on the side you earn whenever you say something cheesy. it is also hard to miss the darkening spots growing under his tired eyes, his usual sparkly green orbs now nearing dull, heavy with underlying frustration. it made it all crystal clear.

rintarou is not an outwardly emotional person and definitely not one to voice his concerns. his pleas for help were often left unspoken and it takes a sharp eye to see through his unwavering surface. for the most part, the blank expression he's seen wearing most of the time did a pretty good job at shielding his feelings yet his eyes often betrayed him.

he had taken off a couple days ago to somewhere foreign for an important match. you know how sometimes, before a decisive match takes place, he lets pressure get to that pretty head of his and relies on you to keep him grounded and soothe his racing mind. for the longest time, he had been capable of keeping his emotions at bay and deal with his troubles on his own but ever since you came around, rintarou found himself growing selfish and craving your comfort, finding solace in your reassuring words and warm embrace.

you miss the old days when your lover was just at an arm's length and all it took was for him to say the word for you to drop everything and come running to his house, to hold him in your arms and make it all feel better. you remember people in highschool claiming suna was bound to fade into the background given his lazy tendencies and lack of enthusiasm. (what a waste of potential, they would say) suna would shrug. he never payed any mind to it — you praised him on his unshakable nature. it should be a major ego boost for rintarou to know that, not that many years later and against the spiteful tongues of some of your classmates, he made a name for himself as a first division professional volleyball player, thus proving them wrong.

however, he still has quite a few demons to tame inside his head. one of which was self-doubt.

you let your eyes roam his tired features for a moment. “you need to get out of your head, rin”

suna knew you could read him like an open book. you made him feel vulnerable under your scrutinizing gaze. he felt exposed. to have you stare directly into his naked soul was intimidating, more so than to have you stare at his nude body, like you have done dozens of times before. but just like you did with his body, you had taken your time to get to know every corner of his soul. you knew him like the palm of your hand — both mind and body.

“i know.” he tears his gaze away from yours, looking down while running a hand through his disheveled hair and down to scratch his neck in frustration. “tell me how have your days been?”

the silence of his hotel room was eating him whole and he needed you to distract him. most of the time, suna was fond of the silence. after a rough day he found comfort in laying down in his bed and basking in the quiet. he found peace in it. sometimes it was in the quietness of his own little world that he found the solution to his problems. but upon your arrival to that mysterious world of his, your voice soon became his favorite sound. he craved you to fill in the silence that he once treasured.

and so he listens. suna listens as you talk throughout the night (who would’ve guessed you had just woken up), rambling on about your days as other trivial things — namely how you could never get used to starting the day without his morning cuddles. he found it endearing how you seemed to speak enough for the two of you. he was a man of few words so he was lucky to have found someone to fill in the silence for him. and so he listens until his eyes start progressively feeling heavy, your voice lulling him to sleep.

“hey, baby” he calls in a barely audible raspy voice. suna lays down on his side under the cold unwelcoming bed sheets, holding his phone next to his face on the pillow “put your pretty face on the phone”

a soft smile crawls its way up to your flushed face at his sugar coated words, his voice although drowsy sounding sweeter than saccharin. you were so lost in the lovely image of him that you failed to notice that your face was barely on the frame, just your eyes peeking shyly from the bottom of the screen.

you shuffle in bed, turning on your side to mirror his position. its almost as if you’re not a hundred miles apart and he's lying right next to you, if you squint hard enough.

“there you are” he mumbles weakly under his breath, a loving smile on his pillowy rosy lips that you miss dearly.

his eyes appear weary through the screen yet he never fails to look at you with the utmost love. dumbfounded, you wordlessly stare at each other as you fall into a comfortable silence that is however, filled with a hundred unspoken words.

his love is quiet, hesitant at times but never shallow. he felt deeply and feared he wasn't the best to put it into words so sometimes, his love, it hides beyond lingering stares and shy touches. it remained unuttered most of the time but words are futile when he has shown his devotion to you countless times before.

“hey rin. you think you can go to sleep, now?” you notice him fighting the urge to let his eyes close shut, battling to stay awake for a little longer to try and memorize your face for later so he can dream of you tonight.

he simply nods with his eyes shut, too sleepy to pronounce a single word.

“call me tomorrow after the game, alright?” he nods yet again, noticeably starting to drift away at last but not before muttering a quiet i love you before the last hint of consciousness leaves his body, eliciting a tender smile from you.

“i love you, rin. ill meet you in your dreams tonight.”

[a/n]: so! writing this fic made me realize that im undeniably in love with suna and he now owns a 51% share of my heart. (oikawa. ill never forget you. its not you its me (suna) maybe its time i move on. 🤒 jk jk ill have both pls and ty 🥰)

anyways ye i guess im back from my mini hiatus (as a full suna whore) :))

this is honestly a word dump, initially this was supposed to be like... what.. 500 words long? i just thought of the prompt “put your pretty face on the phone” and the rest is just me pouring my love for him into words ah-ha. (you probably noticed how it is unnecessarily cheesy 🙄)

just for the record!! i havent finished season 4 just yet 🐸 lmao. i took inspiration off of nooras (@/inarzki) characterization of suna because she was the one who made me fall in love with him in the first place.

#suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna fluff #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou fluff #haikyuu x reader

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sakiyo · 4 years

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━ # ONE A.M EYELINER | suna rintaro

+ pairings: suna rintaro/reader

+ tags: best friends 2 lovers, suna being a pretty mf, mutual pining, uni!au.

+ warnings: none

+ word count: 2.2k

+ summary: suna rintaro has never let you do his eyeliner, simply because he’s afraid to let you get too close.

+ listening to: FLESH by miguel & A Warm Touch of Light by Isabella LeVan

+ note: nothing but me rambling on about how pretty suna’s eyes are and how they’re pretty enough to deserve a whole fic dedicated to them. dedicated to my dom @kiyoomae i hope you enjoy babe because i finished this shitty fic for you <3.

“i could get hypothermia if i go out there, you know.”

working with suna always ended up the same way, there was no doubt about it. by the time that the clock plastered on your wall hit twelve-forty five a.m, the project was finished, but completely half assed as a result of neither of you paying enough attention during lectures to actually know what to do. yet, somehow, the same desultory assignment would always receive an undeserving ‘A-plus’. mostly because your professor never cared to actually observe the material, as long as it was in, it was good enough for him. [but you would grade it a solid 64 percent]

there's one variable that’s different today; it’s raining. it’s one a.m and it’s raining, and suna decided that it would be a sublime idea to walk to your apartment today, of all days. [as much as you encourage him to do so, he still never checks the weather]. the disruption in your routine was anything but an easy adjustment. and as much as you wanted to kick him out, the rain was growing heavier and heavier and—

“okay fine! you can crash for the night!”

he smiled, unaware of the fact that you would have said yes to him either way.

+++

you can’t help but notice that suna has pretty eyes.

honestly, you picked up on his bizarrely unique vulpine-like eyes years ago, when you had first met him. but now, as you sit on the couch that occupies the majority of your compact living room, you’re drawn back to them.

its an odd thought to think about your best friend at one in the morning.

but...he’s admittedly pretty.

you think back to a random fact you learned in the biology course you took in your third year of highschool; you grow into your eyes. never in your life did you believe that such a miniscule piece of information would find its way back into your mind two years later, and because of suna no less.

it’s one a.m and your legs are situated in his lap, his fingers deftly toying with the tip of the anklet he bought you for your sixteenth birthday [he doesn’t believe that you still wear it, even after all the passed time],

but you’re still fixated on his eyes.

if it was even possible, the creases accented them further, like each line was strategically placed to lure one’s undivided attention to them. it’s funny though, because suna was never fond of attention. [which was also why seven year old rin never took a liking to overly-exertive you.

you still share a laugh with him thinking back to your rock hard resolve as a child and his burning desire to stay away from you.

it’s funny how easily time changes things.]

you almost feel like you’re dreaming as you watch his eyelids ghost over, his glassy skin reflecting the coral tint of the cheap ceiling light. but you’re not dreaming, he’s right there, in all his ignorant glory. suna doesn’t notice your residual gaze, he’s fixated on the ‘NBA playoffs highlights’ video streaming on his instagram feed. yet you feel creepy, overanalyzing him like this.

but you allow your mind to wander, just a bit.

“hey, rintaro?” you lightly dig your heel into his thigh.

it’s merely a sporadic case of wishful thinking. you’ve known suna rintaro for many years, which was more than enough time to figure out his complex personality.

and if there’s one thing he never allowed you to do, it was his eyeliner.

six times.

you had asked to apply the liquid to his eyes six times, and each time you had received the same answer. a simple no. he doesn’t say ‘no’ with malice, though. no...the last thing he would want is you thinking that he just hated you enough to constantly reject your proposals.

suna hums quietly, shifting to meet your gaze. “yeah?”

he still thinks you haven’t caught on, but you picked up on his tendency to immediately drop his phone in a reflex to hearing your voice a while back— you like it.

“do you think,” you shift your legs from the comfort of his lap and move your body closer to him, “i could do your eyeliner?”

your question doesn’t register.

instead, suna’s hyper fixated on the inching proximity between you two— he doesn’t like it. it’s one a.m and you’re moving one couch cushion closer, your knee is brushing against his thigh, has your skin always been this cold? he can barely focus, but he still hears the droplets of rain assaulting the window and roofs, they’re getting louder and louder and—

“suna? did you hear me?” your voice is accompanied with slight confusion.

you narrow your eyes as he blinks out of his trance. you’re not shocked though— his tendencies to space out were never limited to lectures alone. “wha?”

your shoulder rests against his, and he swears he feels his heart cease its rhythmic palpitations for a fraction of a second.

[no you idiot, that’s just your regular heartbeat.]

there’s apprehension in your voice, “can i...do your eyeliner…?” suna is a relatively simple man, the worst he can say is no, but you want a yes this time around.

“i’ve already said—”

suna’s breath hitches, as if his words are lodged at the back of his throat. your fingers grip onto the peak of his broad shoulders. [you’d rather die than admit it, but you always loved when he’d roll them back and inconspicuously stretch his neck]

suna stares at you squarely in the face. he can feel the outline of your fingernails lightly tacking into his skin. shit, he’s dreaming. his eyes shift around the room, it’s still one a.m, and he can’t get any words out of his mouth.

speak, speak, SPEAK—

you beat him to it.

“before you say no!” your voice rises as you try to appeal. “i’m letting you crash at my place for the night, i deserve a payment.” your words come out as more of a jumbled mess than a proper sentence. subconsciously, you take your bottom lip between your thumb and index fingers, biting it every now and then. suna lifts a brow at your familiar mannerisms— he likes to think he knows you better than anyone else, and he knows that you toy with your bottom lip before taking a test, receiving a report card, or going in for a job interview.

are you nervous?

he sighs.

“fine…” he whispers softly. suna doesn’t exactly know if he should regret agreeing to your question, but he doesn’t miss the way your eyes visibly light up when he does.

you look pretty.

+++

he regrets it.

it’s one a.m and you’re situated on his lap, straddling him innocently as you dab the brush into the bottle of ebony ink. suna can’t help but feel like a putty in your hands, the same ones that gently grip his jaw to hold it in place.

he’s still not sure how old he was when your touches started to feel like fire.

suna feels trapped, he IS trapped. between your legs, between your soft body and the tender cushion, between the thin line of friendship and-

he should stop.

[he still can’t believe he’s doing this]

“would you like thin, or thick eyeliner, rin?”

has his name always rolled off your tongue so effortlessly?

“thin, like yours.”

you hum with content, looking him over with a small smile etched onto your face. he doesn’t understand how you can keep eye contact with him so easily, especially while you’re moving closer and closer to his chest.

he holds his breath as you exhale. he can still smell the lingering scent of peppermint from the gum you were chewing minutes before– usually he can’t stand it, but right now it feels like home. suna knows his eyes shouldn’t be trailing down to your cherry balm stained lips, and he knows that his chest shouldn’t swell at the sight of you wearing his old bleach stained t-shirt that stretched past your shorts.

suna knows that he’s not supposed to see his best friend in that light; so why is it all that he can think about?

“close your eyes for me please?”

he really doesn’t want to, afraid that if he opens them back up again, you’ll be gone and he’ll be in his bed [he still believes that he’s dreaming]. but he knows that he’d rather dance with the devil [the twins] than say no to you, so he complies.

you hum a light tune to yourself as you bring the fine-tipped brush to the edge of his eye. as the pen glides across his skin, suna can’t help but flinch at the intrusive feeling. instinctively, his hand darts up to hold your wrist, stopping you from drawing any further.

“that feels weird.” he can’t see, but he can feel the smile tugging at your lips.

“you’ll get used to it in a bit, rin.”

it’s weird, best friends don’t usually sit in each other’s lap with less than five inches of breathing room between each other. what if he were to do this with one of the twins–

that’s a disturbing thought. he immediately forgets about it. he shifts in discomfort mid-stroke, making your hand slip.

you groan in frustration; it’s at times like this that you can’t stand suna.

“stop moving! you made it smudge!” you lightly smack his chest [though, it’s just a pitiful excuse to touch him].

“sorry, sorry.” your giggles die down as you clean up the line, and suna quickly goes back to overthinking.

tik

the rain is still pouring.

tok

he counts that you breathe twice every ten seconds.

tik

you’re getting closer to his chest.

tok

he can still smell the leftover pizza on the coffee table from today’s takeout.

tik

the gel feels kind of nice now.

tok

its one a.m and suna’s falling in love with–

“earth to suna?” you huff as you lightly tap his shoulder, “don’t tell me that you’ve fallen asleep on me.” it’s quite funny to him when you say that; you’re actually what keeps him up at night.

you lean back as he opens his eyes, looking at the eyeliner from afar. you can’t help but get a bit jealous– even without trying, suna had always managed to look perfect.

you’re so caught up that you don’t notice yourself starting to slip.

“watch out.” his hand slips around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

it’s one a.m and your hands are back on his shoulders. you know that your eyes shouldn’t be on his slightly chapped lips, and you know that you shouldn’t want to throw the hoodie adorning his body somewhere across the room.

inhale

his hands are still around your waist.

exhale

you watch as his tongue ghosts over his lips to wet them.

inhale

you can smell the residual scent of the same cinnamon cologne you got him for a ‘secret santa’ event between your friend group.

exhale

sometimes, you forget that you’re just friends.

inhale

has suna always been this attractive?

exhale

the tipped over bottle of eyeliner is spilling onto your clothes.

inhale

how would his lips feel against–

“wanna kiss you.” the hesitation in suna’s voice is clear. he knows better than anyone that best friends shouldn’t want to kiss each other. his heart is racing. when your eyes widen in surprise he wants nothing more than to push you off of him and leave without saying goodbye– but he’s already said it.

“w-what?” you stutter out. you can’t help but wonder if you’re dreaming. you want to pinch yourself, but if it is a dream, the last thing you’d want is to wake up.

“i want to kiss you. will you let me?” he says, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

little does he know that you want more; to touch him, taste him, love him–

you take the easy way out instead, “yeah...alright.”

he moves a stray strand of hair away from your face, is he doing this right? You move in closer, eyes slowly fluttering shut, but suna’s gaze still lingers on you. he thinks you look even more beautiful than before [he didn’t think it was possible]. It’s one a.m and he’s about to kiss the person of his dreams.

shit. he should close his eyes.

the journey seems like forever, but you both finally feel each other.

no, his lips don’t ghost over yours.

they press together, full of pent up passion. it’s hot, too hot for even best friends.

can you even call each other that anymore?

not with the way his hands claw at the tip of your shirt in a futile attempt of pulling you closer to him, not with the way you gather tufts of his hair in your hands, and certainly not at the way you both feel at home like this. you both can taste every last inch of each other.

he swears that he hates peppermint, but he’s drunk on the taste of it on your tongue.

you’re meant to be nothing more than childhood best friends, but you want more and more and MORE.

this shouldn’t be happening, but he wants more and more and MORE–

you both break for air after an eternity, pulling away with heat-flushed faces, heaving chests, and swollen lips. he rests his forehead against yours, peppering ghost-kisses between breaths that tickle your skin.

“i’m not supposed to love you, but i do.”

it’s two a.m, and two best friends are melting into each other.

they’re unaware that the rain has stopped.

#ending lowkey did not turnout the way i wanted but it’s decent #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #.my works

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roll-da-credits · 3 years

Text

Lycoris Radiata -Izuku Midoriya x Reader-

Inspired by the piano piece, "Lycoris Radiata," Written by Spikes, played by MusicalBasics.

Highly recommend listening to it whilst reading.

[1] [2] [3]

Word Count: 1.6k

When a childhood love shows up after being lost to time, it's unnerving to be presented by something so familiar yet different. Deku, lost to his own love and presented with the stresses of life and unrequited love, it isn't easy to see the world with an unbiased gaze.

!WARNING!

(This is for the entire series and not just this part)

BIG TW for death, suicide, abuse,

Minor TW for death imagery, toxic relationship, toxic friendship, toxic shit all around

A/n: The summary sucks ass I really don't know how to summarize this ahahaha, btw this is going to be a 3 parter and I hope all of you follow me for the ride cause its a bumpy AND angsty one. Like heavily angsty. The first part doesn't have that many triggering topics, but the second and third do, so read with caution.

Imagery used

Red camelia flowers

Deku felt his entire body freeze at the sight. Like seeing a piece of his past that was lost to time. He yelled your name and without looking back to see you already knew who it was.

His very voice brings warmth in your entire being, a soft chuckle left your lips. You could hear his footsteps getting closer and closer, he was running to greet you. To greet the girl who left so long ago. The girl who disappeared from his life the moment he went in UA.

He never knew what happened or why it did happen. Though all of his questions bubbled into non-existence when you stood and closed your arms around his torso. He wanted to lift you up to the air, hug you even tighter. After all, it wasn’t everyday he would find his childhood friend sitting in a park bench all alone.

“You know him?”

A lone voice interrupted Deku’s complete bliss. He felt you quickly release your hold on him, though the beautiful smile he admired never leaving your face.

He watched in curiosity as the lone voice wrapped his hand around your waist. A bitter feeling etched its way in his throat. He pushed it down as far as it would go, afraid by his own jealousy he would push you away from his life once more.

“We were friends back in Grade School and Middle School, we stopped talking in Highschool though.” “Izuku, this is my boyfriend.”

Deku smiled and held his hand out for your boyfriend to shake. Which he does so with a big smile, “I didn’t know you were friends with the number one hero, that’s incredible.”

His intimidating tone at the beginning turned to almost fascination. Deku simply chuckled to himself and scratched the back of his neck in nervousness.

Your boyfriend leaned down to give you a small peck on your lips and Deku couldn’t help but shift in his place. Feeling rather displaced at watching a shameless display of affection. He slightly looked away to watch the rose bushes not very far from where he was, missing the grip that tightened around your waist. The flowers were beautiful, bright red and imposing. He thought to himself how hard it must’ve been to take care of such a delicate flower.

“Why don’t we all head out to lunch?”

Your boyfriend suggested.

To which you quickly agreed and your eyes locked with Deku’s green ones. A gaze almost as if you were begging him to come along. He, of course, would never deny an offer like that, not when you seemed so desperate to get him to go along. A feeling of gratitude bubbled in his chest, he felt as if you were looking at him like that as a sign to reconcile. Maybe even apologize for your sudden disappearance.

He followed the both of you to a nearby restaurant, getting stopped here and there for photos or signatures by passers-by. Every time he’d glance over to you and your boyfriend with an apologetic gaze, only to be met with the warm smile of your boyfriend and slight chuckles here and there.

He was extremely thankful you were able to find yourself such a considerate and patient lover. It quelled the jealousy in his heart a tiny bit. He would never jeopardize your happiness just because of his selfishness to have you as his.

Finally arriving at the restaurant, he watched your boyfriend closely the entire meal. It wasn’t he was scared of him being terrible or a bad company, he was simply making sure your boyfriend was the right person for you.

His suspicion would soon disappear though, the moment both of you went in, he greeted the waiters. Even apologized when one of them bumped into him. He was kind to give up the table he reserved for a family with hungry children. And he patiently waited for another table to open up for him.

When the waiter messed up his order, he simply smiled at your request of getting a waiter to correct his order and ate it without complaints.

Deku watched in front of him as he always kept his hand slung around your shoulder. He watched as your boyfriend complimented you, flick away a piece of food that fell on your clothing. Deku observed him with a keen eye and yet could do nothing but smile.

He truly did seem like a good person.

Despite his keenness and thorough nature, he missed the way you’d often shift in your seat when your boyfriend’s body nudges yours. Or how you’d flinch when a waiter dropped a plate rather far from the table.

The entire meal Deku along with you and your boyfriend made small talk here and there. Deku grew to like your boyfriend more and more.

At the same time, he felt his romantic feelings for you lightly watering down. He knew it was still there, but once again he’d rather it completely dissipates than ruin your relationship with a good person.

After all, he was a hero, he would always care for you and give you the best of the best. Even if it meant letting you love another.

“Izuku!!!” At the call of his name, Deku ran as fast as his tiny legs could carry him through the forest and to you.

Both of you still children laughing and exploring the forest with Bakugou and his gang of miscreants.

He finally found you crouching, watching intently at something he could not yet see from his distance.

Deku stopped for a moment trying to catch his breath, he thinks you haven’t heard him yet since you weren’t turning your back to him. Still intent on watching whatever you were looking at on the ground.

Just as he started to walk to you, Bakugou jumped out of his hiding spot and landed right in front of you. Causing you to scream from the scare.

Bakugou laughed out loud, prideful that his little prank worked. “I got you!!!”

Yet, no laughter followed from your side. You didn’t laugh like you usually did, both Bakugou and Deku who was now already behind you grew slightly anxious. What if you had gotten hurt from Bakugou’s landing?

What they didn’t expect was for you to cry ever so loudly.

Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you stood and pushed Bakugou to the ground, still wailing.

“You dummy!!! You stepped on it! It's dead now!!!” You wailed and cried, before turning your heel and running back to your home.

Bakugou looked at Deku for clarification, as he was still dazed from the harsh shove. Deku looked to whatever you were staring at before Bakugou’s scare and saw a crushed red camellia flower. Bakugou finally realizing what he had done still didn’t want to admit he was in the wrong.

So just like the child he was, crossed his arm on his chest and huffed.

“It wasn’t my fault the flower was in my way!!”

He too soon left Deku to his own devices, looking for his previously left behind gang.

Deku feeling incredibly bad took the crushed flower in his hands and brought it home with him.

The next day he got his mom to bring him to your place since for some reason you didn’t come over today to play with him like you usually do every day.

“Oh Inko, please come in. They’ve been crying since they came home yesterday, something about something red dying. It was probably another flower.”

Your mother welcomed both Deku and his mother in, explaining why you had been absent from your usual playdates. Deku got the green light from your mother to meet you upstairs, and so just like a little kid excited to show his friend a new toy. He ran up the stairs holding a tiny box in his hands.

He barely bothered to knock on your door and barged in, causing you to lightly flinch at surprise.

“Izuku?” He swiftly apologized when he saw he interrupted you whilst you were reading.

Waddling his way over to sit next to you, he smiled and asked what you were reading about. You explained it was an English book called The Very Busy Spider, in which the main character was a red spider with a green head. A character you enjoyed so very much.

Deku listened to you retelling the children’s book to him, all whilst gripping the box extremely tight. Ecstatic to see your reaction when you opened his little gift.

“What did you bring Izuku?” Your little fingers pointed at the box tied neatly by Deku’s mother in a red ribbon.

Deku grinned and gave the box to you, “I’m sorry about Kaachan yesterday.” He sincerely or as sincere as a child could, apologized for his best friend’s actions.

You nodded at him and opened the tiny box. Inside was a dried version of the red camellia flower you had thought died after being crushed by Bakugou.

You held it close to your heart and almost cried tears of joy before enveloping Deku in a bone-crushing hug. “You’re my hero!!!” Your words made a flicker of flame igniting in his chest. He didn’t realize your words impacted him so much until he went back home and couldn’t get it out of his mind. He was extremely proud of himself to bring a smile back on your face.

After all, if he was going to be a hero, he would need to ability to make people smile all the time. Even if it meant racking his brain to find new solutions to odd problems.

#deku angst #izuku midoriya #deku x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya angst #deku fluff #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #deku x you #izuku midoriya x you #bnha x reader #izuku fanfic #deku fanfiction

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little-butterfly-writes · 3 years

Text

Wednesday

Yoosung Kim X Reader [y/n]

Author’s Note - Sorry this took so long! I also apologize if the ending seems rushed or if Yoosung is OOC. Thank you to the lovely @latte-delf for requesting this, it was an honor to write for you. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings - There’s a brief mention of a panic attack and slight bullying! I’ve tagged where it starts and ends if you’re uncomfortable with that. Lots of time skipping cuz I can’t fucking write. This is unedited, please tell me if there is any mistakes.

I hate him.

I hate him so much!

He stole the position of class president from you three years ago.

Yoosung Kim. He stole my position by two votes. Two. Votes. I was always class president before that! Yet he took it from me. My classmates even had the audacity to say he was a better president when it was time to vote for a new one! Sure, Yoosung was intelligent and popular, but he only won because the girls found him handsome.

And of course, he just (HAS) to go to the same university as you do. Sky University was supposed to be a place free of Yoosung Kim. At least he hasn’t seemed too interested in studies this year. He has failed almost every pop quiz your professor has handed out. Whenever you see his down face, you can’t help but giggle a bit.

I dislike how he’s majoring in the same thing as me still. It feels like he’s saying he can do better. Though his grades haven’t been showing that. He must realize that I’m superior than he ever will be.

~~~~~~~~~~

On Wednesday during your last lecture, you diligently take notes and listen to your professor. You make sure to absorb every bit of information that you can. During the last twenty minutes, your professor makes an announcement.

“Students, I will be assigning a project due at the end of the month. You will have to find out the evolution of the animal as well as their behaviors. Please include any infectious diseases that they can carry. I will be giving you partners to make the workload easy.” You shrug your shoulders, can’t be too bad.

You wait until your name is called, which takes awhile since your name is lower on the list. You pray to whatever god is out there to not get Yoosung as your partner.

Apparently, the gods refused to listen to your plea. Your professor calls your name out, “[y/n] [l/n] and Yoosung Kim...you two will have the koala.” A loud groan escapes your mouth at the name.

“ Class is dismissed. Have a good day.” You quickly pack up and speed walk out the lecture hall. Yoosung rushes up to you and taps your shoulder.

“Hey! Wanna exchange numbers so we can find time to work on the project?” The blonde smiles at you. You roll your eyes. “No. I’m going to do it on my own. You can play your stupid little game.” He frowns at your snappy words.

“Are you sure? I’d feel bad if you took all the work by yourself. We also have some tests coming up, so it’ll be a lot to take care of.” The genuine worry in his voice ticks you off. You write down your number on a loose piece of paper and shove it into his chest. Yoosung struggles to keep it off the ground as you walk away. The walk to your dorm is full of your mumbled curses.

~~~~~~~~~

A chill on Saturday morning wakes you up. You grumble as you check your phone, seeing a text notification from Yoosung. He delivered it at 3:45 am. He’ll be an especially lousy partner today. The previous day, Yoosung invited you to his dorm so that you could work on the project together, to which you begrudgingly agreed.

You arrive at his dorm within a five minute walk. Your notes and laptop are nestled in your backpack. After a quick rap on the door, Yoosung answers. His hair is mussed and his eyes look droopy. You scoff and push your way inside. Surprisingly, his place is a lot neater than you expected.

“So, should we make a slide and divide the work.” He asks. “I’ll do it on my own, go find something else you can do.” You jab. Yoosung lets out a frustrated sigh and speaks up. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but it’d be a lot easier if we shared the load. Plus, this is my grade as much as it is yours.” You grumble an ‘okay’ and split up topics to focus on. Both of you take turns borrowing your notes and his textbook.

Around two hours after starting, you and Yoosung decide that you worked enough for the day. He offers to get takeout, to which you agree to. You’re a broke college student, how could you refuse? You sit on the floor with your back against the couch, too brain fried to think. Yoosung plomps on the small couch he has and lets out a groan.

“Want to watch Bulu or something on my laptop?” He offers. You nod your head. Yoosung opens his laptop and signs in to his streaming service. You decide to watch ‘The Workspace’ as you wait for your food.

Your food arrives. Both of you continue to watch your show. Cheap pizza has never tasted this good. Maybe you’re just so hungry and tired to the point where you don’t even care. “Sorry if it isn’t too good. It was the only place I could find on FoodHub.” He apologizes softly. “It’s okay, I’m too hungry to care anymore.” You earn a chuckle from him. There’s an odd silence after that.

“Uhm…. hey, [y/n]?” He speaks shyly. “What?” You say in a cranky voice, irritated about being disturbed from your slice. Yoosung struggles for a minute before speaking for a minute. “Did I do something to offend you? You seem like you have something against me...” You stiffen. (TW) Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You honestly never expected this to happen.

A can of worms open up. Your breathing slowly becomes ragged. Averting your gaze doesn’t help, you know his amethyst ones are on you. A wave of panic crosses you. You stammer something incoherent to him. “A-are you okay? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to..” He hurriedly apologizes. You grasp tightly at his wrist, wanting to ground yourself to something. Yoosung’s pulse is a bit fast, yet it helps you regain focus. He awkwardly places a hand on yours. “He….hey, It’s okay.” For once, his voice is actually reassuring.

“Back in highschool..” You murmur. “You won student president even though I had been the president the years prior.” He looked shocked, eyes wide and lips a bit parted. “I remember. You worked really hard on that campaign.” Yoosung gives you a lopsided smile. “Since I didn’t win, people who I reported causing issues started to bully and harass me. Even some people who I used a slightly harsh tone with mocked me.” Your eyes started to sting. “Oh [y/n]...”

“The worst part of all, my parents were upset that I didn’t get the role again. They scolded me for not doing good enough.” (TW End) Yoosung can only pat your back. You don’t know what to think about it. He seems to think that as well, seeing as his hand jumps off you like he was scalded. “I uh… think I should go now. I’ll Lendmo you money for the food…..See ya.” You pack as quickly as possible and run out as fast as you can until you’re out of breath. A block away from Yoosung’s dorms, you stop to take a break. Warmth sets fire to your face when thinking back to being with him. Maybe it’s because you’re embarrassed? Maybe you’re just winded from running.

There is NO. WAY. your face feels hot because of Yoosung’s comforting presence. There can’t be, it's impossible. You slap your cheeks in an attempt to compose yourself. It doesn’t work.

~~~~~~~~~

Its been a week since you’ve talked to Yoosung. He tries to talk to you, but you always scurry away when he gets too close. He’s even tried texting and throwing notes at you in class which the two of you got in trouble for. It’s only on a Wednesday that he finally catches you in the hall before you run off. The grip of his hand on your wrist is firm, but not to the point of pain.

Yoosung sighs and looks at you. You turn your head away slightly to avoid his burning gaze. “Please don’t be mad…” You hear him suck in a breath. “Mad? Why would you think I’m mad?” Your bottom lip trembles. “For avoiding you..” Yoosung releases your wrist and pats your head. “I’m not mad, I’m worried.” His hand slides down to your shoulder. “I know this won’t really help, but I’m sorry for what happened to you. You’ve been holding this feeling of hate because of some stupid people.” You giggle at his insult to your past peers.

But why do your cheeks feel blazing again? Why are there little butterflies in your stomach? There’s a slight squeeze on your shoulder before he retracts his hand. You wish it was still there so badly, that spot feels cold now. “How about going to my place? We can relax for a bit then work on the project.” He offers. You nod, maybe a little too eagerly as you hear him laugh. Why does he look so cute when he smiles?

You take the bus to his place, the campus being a bit far from his dorms. You immediately collapse on his couch and place an arm over your eyes. The groan that comes from your lips is loud and dramatic. Yoosung laughs loudly, oddly comforting you. He sits by your legs, looking rigid. “So uhm...do you still hate me?” You look him dead in the eye. “Only if you’ll teach me how to play that stupid game of yours.” You smirk. “LOLOL isn’t stupid!” He whines. You start laughing. The scowl on his features make Yoosung look like a puppy who hasn’t gotten a treat. You laugh harder.

Yoosung rolls his eyes. “Fine. I guess I’ll teach you.” You wipe away the tears from your laughing fit and sit up happily. He retrieves his laptop and starts up LOLOL. You notice that the both of you are inching towards each other. “I’ll make your own account just in case you want to play again.” “You mean so I won’t mess up your save file?” Yoosung flounders as you let out a hearty chuckle. You put your email and username in. “ShootingStar_[y/n}? I like it!” He guides you as you create an avatar looking similar to you. You decide to be a mage. During your tutorial levels, you have a hard time navigating with the mouse. He places his right hand on top of your hand on the mouse. Your heart beats erratically while his hand is on yours. There’s a slight blush creeping up on his face as well.

By the time you finish, it’s nearly evening. You take out your laptop while Yoosung logs out and goes into the presentation. You guys spend six hours working, editing each other's slides and practicing presenting. It’s around 12am when you two are content with your work. Yoosung orders some sandwiches from a 24 hour restaurant.

You decide to stay over since its late. Yoosung lets you sleep on his bed while he takes the couch. His bed is like sleeping on a cloud, so soft and warm. You let yourself drift off peacefully.

~~~~~~~~~

On a Wednesday, you and Yoosung have to present your project in front of the class. His face looks pale, his hands are shaky. “Hey, you okay?” You pat his back. He gulps and nods. “Just a little nervous. It's been awhile since I’ve given your last presentation.” It's your turn to pat his head. His face immediately goes a bright shade of pink.”Wh-what was that for?!” “You did that to me last time I was sad. Besides, I think you’re just mad because you know I’m going to beat you in LOLOL tonight.” He quickly pouts. “I shouldn’t have shown you PVP mode!”

Your presentation goes well. As you leave your class, your professor hands you a rubric. “Nice work, guys.” He gives you a smile. Yoosung meets you out in the hallway. You both peer at the paper. There’s a huge ‘A’ on the top of your paper. Yoosung looks at you with wide eyes. “Oh my god… I can’t believe we did it!” You jump up and down in exuberance. Yoosung hugs you tight. You can’t deny that you have feelings for him anymore. You kiss his soft lips.

~~~~~~~~~

On a Wednesday, you chase him down the hall.

“Get back here!” You yell. “Make me!” This childish man. You continue your chase until you’re outside on campus. He suddenly stops dead in his tracks. The shock of him giving up so quickly nearly makes you trip. You would’ve become a pancake on the pavement.

“Yoosung Kim, I hate you so much!”

He chuckles warmly. “I love you too”

Yoosung presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll buy you another sweet bun for you. Forgive me?”

“Fine, I guess I forgive you….I love you too..”

You press a kiss to his cheek, relishing in the warmth of the sun shining above you.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger yoosung #yoosung kim #enemies to lovers #cheritz #mystic messenger yoosung kim #mysmes #mysmes fluff #mystic messenger fluff

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blissfulparker · 4 years

Text

Seasick pt.6→Peter Parker

Parings: college!peter x reader. Friends to lovers AU

Warnings: fluff, slowburn

Summary: when you give one lie to your mom that you have a boyfriend, she ends up buying an extra ticket for a cruise you guys are going on. Now you’re stuck looking for a fake boyfriend and eventually drag peter in. Except you and peter both like each other and don’t know how long you can last pretending.

A/n: hi! So I’m not sure how much of this I will be posting this week/weekend because I am very busy but hopefully I can get some things queued before I suddenly disappear. But thank you so much on the support for this series I really do appreciate it, I love you guys more than anything 💗✨

Read previous part here!

They don’t allow 7 shots of espresso,” you set the coffee cup down on the table. “So I got you two. You really shouldn’t be drinking your coffee like that anyways.” You take a sip of yours, pink lip gloss marking it so you know it’s yours.

“Thanks.” He mumbled picking up.

“You good now?” You asked and his face grew red again.

“Can we forget about this? And let’s not bring this up to anyone?” He asks and you nod. You adjust your swimsuit strap and playfully smirk at him.

“It'll be our dirty little secret.” you wink and he groans walking away from you.

“Is there anything i need to know about snorkeling?” he asks and you lay on the bed, one coffee in hand and phone in the other.

“Uhh, no, the instructor should just say what's going on. The rules change every year because someone has to fuck them—” he walks out of the bathroom with his trunks on. You're taken aback a little. Seeing Peter in his trunks a few days ago was nothing. You only looked for a second before looking away. You felt how strong Peter was but didn't see it. For a boy who plays video games a lot and eats pizza as if it's his life support he sure seems to be in great shape. You've never seen him work out or anything before either. Maybe it was those after hours at the stark tower where he would use the gym.

“Oh what you've got a boner now?” he takes the only and teases. You snap out of your thoughts and compose yourself.

“What! No that's disgusting.” You shake your head and play it off.

“Take a picture, your phone is right there.” he had a cocky smirk and you wanted to throw something but you couldn't.

“Shut up, parker.” You groan as you get up. “Was it not you who got turned on seeing his fake girlfriend and her sister in bikinis?”

“I. had. A. dream.” he states, still trying to cover that moment up.

“Mmmh, okay.” you hum and he groans.

“And I meant about your family snorkeling? Is there anything i should know?” he asks, finding a towel.

“It's mostly calm. Maya will flirt with the instructor if he's hot.” you start.

“I thought maya was engaged?” he asks and you nodded.

“She is.” he's shocked at the words but she does seem to be that type of flirty person that you can never find if she's being serious or not. “Arden will mostly swim with Jack and my mom will hang out with my aunt. Oh my dad and uncle stay back and hang out at the bar, they've done this a million times. So yeah, just stay calm and be nice to everyone and it should be a good day.” you shrug a shoulder to him and the last words ring in his head. ‘Stay calm and it should be a good day’.

Peter never thought he’d see the day of himself snorkeling. It was never really on his bucket list but was certainly checked off now. He thought about how cool it would be, how he two years ago would never even think about a cruise since he can barely afford to keep the power on.

“You look like a dork.” You tell him laughing a little adjusting the snorkel so his nose wasn’t so squished.

“Hey.” He laughs a little, pushing you lightly. “You’re the dork.” He tells you and you roll your eyes.

Water floats around the two of you as you’re far away from your family, far away from the group and the boat and would probably get yelled at in a matter of seconds.

“A dork? I don’t look like a dork. This swimsuit makes me look like sexy Spider-Man don’t you think?” You dramatically flaunt and he grows red and swallows hard not even wanting to think about that responsibility right now.

“Don’t ever say that again.” He tells you and you splash him a bit.

“Why? You’ve met him before. Is he hot? Or is he all old and burned up that’s why he wears a mask?” You ask leaning in wanting to know more.

His body tenses up and you lean in to hear more about the masked man peter bragged about knowing in highschool.

“H-He’s good looking.” He tells you. He doesn’t really know how to brag about himself without bragging about himself.

“Young? You think I have a chance?” You laughed. You have no idea how much you do. Peter wanted to say but keeps to himself. “Just kidding, he probably has a girlfriend or something. Or Maybe he keeps to himself and is dark and mysterious….” you gently back away before going under water to be dramatic.

He watches you swim away. While your playing your little game with him he takes in the beauty of all of it. He was surprised with how comfortable the fish were, how close he was with everything. He gets distracted enough to notice you’ve disappeared. He looks around quickly saying your name a few times before you pop up and scare him.

“Jesus! I thought you were gone!” He places his hand over his heart.

“And where exactly would I go pete?” You ask, laughing a little as you had gotten him.

“Honestly anywhere!” He points to all of the options.

“Oh relax you’re such a—oop!” You stumble over a rock a little falling to the side but peter catches you quickly.

“I got you.” He holds and you grip his shoulders for support. “I got you.” His hands resting on your back. You feel how big they are against your skin, they’re thicker, rough, and feel different from your hand holding sessions.

You hate that this could be your only real moment, masks on that make the two of you look stupid and you’re floating in the ocean and your foot is bleeding. Your foot is bleeding.

“I-I think I cut my foot.” You look down to see the blood coming from the small cut making it look dramatic.

“Oh.” His voice soft only thinking about your body against his and how close your lips were. He’s still in the moment before looking down to see the blood in the water. “Oh!” His eyes quickly widen before he grabs you tighter.

“You think there could be a shark?” He asks in more of a panic.

“Please do not tell me you’re afraid of sharks too.” You lean your head on his shoulder as he swims with you in his arms back to the boat. He gives you a stern look before you answer. “I honestly don’t know. I think the waters are too shallow.” You tell him honestly and he lets out a soft huff before getting you back up to the boat.

You two find yourself sitting still by the water. Watching people get excited, watching little kids laugh and go into awe when they saw something cool. Peter worked at your foot with the first aid kit the man gave them.

“Thanks peter.” You nudge his shoulder with your toe to make him look up.

“Oh, well, sorry you tripped.” He said as he took out two bandaids. The red and blue bandaids with Spider-Man on them make you laugh.

“Oh hey look at that.” You say looking at the design. “I guess I really am sexy spiderman now.” You joke and he lets out a soft laugh shaking his head.

He gets up and sits next to you on the bench. Watching people splash around.

“If you wanna go back out you can, I don’t think they’ll let me back out with my bloody foot.” You say and he shakes his head.

“No, I’ll stay up here with you. It was really fun though, I never really thought I’d do this.” He admits and you smile a little. His hair all fluffy from the saltwater and his shoulders and face is a little red from the sun, you don’t even realize when you reach up to touch it. You run your fingers through his drying hair and he gives you an odd look.

“What is it?” He asks, moving back.

“Oh, nothing, just thought you had something in your hair.” You told him retracting your hand.

He watches you get up to go get water from the front of the boat. He watches you walk off with a slight sway to your hips not done on purpose. Your skin was glowing from the sun, your hair tangled into a bun at the top of your head and you came back with two waters.

“Stop staring parker.” you smirked a bit at him while handing him the water. “Don't want a repeat of this morning.” you tease and his face goes even a darker shade of red, this time not from the sun.

“Oh my god, i thought we weren't going to bring it up again!” he groans and you laugh a little.

“Its fine peter, nothing to be embarrassed about.” you nudge him and he looks away.

You guys are alone for a little while longer until everyone comes back on board. You lean on Peter's shoulder to make it seem this whole time you were just tired and in love.

“Where did you two lovebirds go.” your sister sits right next to peter making him tense up.

“Oh you know, we just wanted some alone time.” you told her and she hums. She presses her finger into peters shoulder to irritate the un burn. He jerks away from her and she gives a playful smirk.

“Ocean sex, not that fun, too messy.” your sister says and you feel Peter's body tense up.

“Oh we got it all out this morning you know? After you left he just couldn't control himself. He's like an animal.” you tease shaking him a little and he looks at you with wide eyes.

“I mean she's the one that just can't look away.” He plays the game back, not wanting you to snap and say that he was hard while she was in the room.

“Oh to be in that honeymoon stage again.” She gives a shoulder shrug and then stands from her seat.

“You guys should walk around the market when you get back to the beach. Shop a little. Get something new for tonight,” your mom budges into the conversation sitting next to you. Peter can tell you're now annoyed with the both of them. He can tell your sister purposely came up to bring your mom over.

“Oh no, i think i can find something. Besides, were both broke college students you know?” you chuckle trying to get the both of them off your back.

“Oh sweetheart please, i'll give you money when we get back to shore. Don't be so silly. Treat yourselves a little.(y/n) you've gotta start focusing on how you look more often.” she says before your dad starts calling her. She gets up, walks away and you give Peter a defeated look.

“Im so sorry.” you say and fall back onto his shoulder.

His hand comes to touch your shoulder, trace his fingers gently as not a fake boyfriend but as normal peter, peter who’s trying to comfort a girl whose family completely tore her apart.

People crowded what seemed everywhere. The shops were close together as you two pushed your ways through. Finding a clothing store to keep your moms promise of finding something new.

“You should start wearing bucket hats.” You come up to him with a red leafy hat.

“Bucket what?” He asks looking at you confused. You bring the hat to rest on his head, pulling it down a little and seeing his curls pop out.

“No.” He immediately takes it off. Handing you it back, you’re laughing a little. There is a glow in your face as you smile at him and take back the hat.

“Why? I think you look cute. Girls on vacation love a guy in a bucket hat.” You tease spinning it on your fingers before putting it back on the hook.

“I can’t really look for a girlfriend when I’m with you.” He jokes back and you hit his shoulder.

“Ouch.” You say before turning the corner and looking for a sundress.

He’s left alone for a while before he realizes you’re not in the store anymore. He looks around fearing you left him in a random store on an island he’s never been to before.

“(Y/n)!” He says whispers before you peak your head out of a dressing room.

“In here!” You open the curtain a bit and he sighs in relief. “Sorry, guess I should’ve told you I was trying things on.” You say as you open up the Curtains more to reveal yourself. The red sundress flows down just above the knee. White flowers pattern the dress and it brings out the glow in your skin, he can't take his eyes away. You look like a goddess. In a moment like now, Peter doesn't regret anything about saying yes.

“The straps are a little loose…” you clear your throat catching him stare. Your voice is shy and Peter snaps out of it immediately. He doesn’t even realize how long he’s been staring for.

“I-it looks good.” he admits, a lump in his throat as he watches you shut the curtains again and change back into the sundress you originally wore. You come out and Peter is quiet, his hands shoved into his pockets and you pay in silence.

The idea of seeing you in his colors sparked something in him. His Ex never wore red, she never did. Gwen wore red once and said it was too flashy. But something about the color red on you, if you were his, truly his girl, he would melt and worship you every time he watched you put on red. But you’re not his, he’s not yours.

Maybe he made it too obvious, maybe he made things worse. He didn’t expect you to like him back, he never did. But it was hard to hide his liking for you when you looked like an Angel the whole time.

It's only hours until the dinner, only a few more moments left until you have to endorse one of the worst nights in your life.

If you’d like to be on the taglist please send an ASK! Also please leave feedback it helps me out and let’s me know if you want another part!

Permanent Taglist: @hoodiesparker @dahliaspidey @parkersvibes @itssss-a-bean @ppkrtingle @myfinalwords @bocaul @tinyplanet-explorers @sincerlyfan @softbaby-tom @awesomeblackcottontail @rosebeegraham @stormyholland @unicorn-princess-1999 @spideyyypeter @marshyrebelcloud @oh-epiphany @yeahimcrying @highlydisfunctional1 @disgustangg @pterstingle @quacksonhq @saturnpeter @reblogsfics @tomsrebeleyebrow @dreamyyholland @imaginashawnns @alilpunkrock @peterspideysenses @lovely-valllll @lowkey-holland @hannaholland1811 @kthemarsian @maryjane23 @jillianaholland @dumbiesshort @paracutepants @heartofholland

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#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #college!peter #peter parker fanfic #peter parker x you #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker blurb #peter parker x y/n #peter parker au #marvel imagine #seasick

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writing-in-april · 4 years

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Bowling Ball Baby

Franklin x Female Pregnant Reader

(Franklin is MGG’s character from beginner’s luck)

Gif courtesy of the ever wonderful @imagining-in-the-margins

A/N: I have recently become obsessed with Franklin because of @httpnxtt and @sunlight-moonrise so I decided to write some fluff with a dash of angst for him. I also have smut upcoming for this character as well. Thanks to my beta readers @sunlight-moonrise and @definitelynotkatesblog y’all are amazing!

Warnings: Fluff with a dash of angst, marital dispute at the beginning (is later resolved, and a few swear words.

Masterlist Word count: 1.9k (this was supposed to be a blurb lol)

Fighting with Franklin always left me at rock bottom. We both had feisty personalities but still didn’t fight often, usually just scathing quips when we were irritated. On the rare occasions when we did explode into a fight it was full of screaming, crying, and hurtful comments. Our tempers had been close to boiling over for a while now, my pregnancy hormones were making me extremely irritable and Franklin’s feisty demeanor didn’t exactly mesh well with that.

My 8 month pregnant belly felt like I was lugging around a bowling ball constantly, my back felt like it was being broken everyday. I constantly felt like I was standing on pins and needles, plus the baby felt the need to show me just how strong she or he was by kicking me in the ribs.

The fight had started after Franklin came home from work, I was sitting on our couch with my feet propped up and covered in an ice pack to relieve some of the stinging pain. Unfortunately for my poor swollen feet the ice pack did little to dull the throbbing.

“Hey, Frankie?” I called, hoping I could convince him to swap out the thawing ice pack for a frozen bag of peas.

“Not now, I’m busy.” He answered shortly, his back facing away from me, not fully acknowledging my presence. He was usually extra irritable after work; he felt trapped in his job, like it was holding him back from his dream of bowling professionally..

I huffed loudly, not that he could hear it from the other room, doing god knows what. He returned in a rush with his bowling ball bag in his hand, headed for the door, his Big Z Tires shirt hastily thrown on. My mouth fell open when I realized he was leaving for the alley.

“You’re leaving?” I squeaked, watching him while he hastily shoved a bagel in his mouth.

“I’ve got to go to practice” he muffled around a mouthful, sounding annoyed. I always supported Franklin and his dreams of being the best bowler in Little Falls, but this time I wasn’t going to let him escape his responsibilities of our relationship so easily.

“Could you skip today?” Treading lightly by asking softly. “We haven’t spent any time with each other in like a month and even then it was at the alley.”

His face switched from being annoyed to enraged despite my asking nicely, he was still going to get pissed off- figures.

“How could you be so inconsiderate- you know how important this is to me and the whole town!” he yelled. I was spooked but quickly composed myself before replying.

“I’m not being inconsiderate, you're never here.” I stated in a deadly tone, I didn’t want to make this worse by joining in on his raised voice. “I understand it’s the most important thing in Little Falls, but shouldn’t our baby be more important to you?!”

All I got in response was a dismissive scoff. I could feel myself getting angrier, we’d both said we wanted a baby and for the past month he acted like he couldn’t care less.

“You might as well go move into the bowling alley.” I mumbled under my breath, fiery spite fueling my words.

“Even with the pins, it’d still be quieter than your nagging.” he shot back.

“Excuse me?!” Now it was my turn to shout; he just had to continue to stoke the fire increasing in my belly. I waddled my way to stand right in front of him, ignoring the pain of my swollen feet. I didn't want him to wiggle his way out, if he wanted an argument he was going to get one, he was the one who started it after all.

“All you’ve done is whined and complained these past few weeks.” He was acting like a hypocrite, whining and complaining to me about something we both agreed to do together. I had never felt more alone.

“How would you know? You’re never here to spend time with me!” The timbre of my voice cracked as my heart started to shatter.

“Just stop, ok? I get it you’re pregnant but come on Y/N it can’t take that much hard work!” That comment was the straw that broke the camel's back, my anger turned to melancholy as hot tears spilled over onto my cheeks as I waddled away as fast as I could back to our bedroom.

I could hear his desperate voice trying to get me to come back, offering any pleading or begging he could think of, but I wasn’t having it. As I got to our room I slammed the door shut, making sure to lock it tight so he couldn’t follow me. If he wanted to act like a dick, he'll sleep on the couch for the night. Knocks started to hit the door with his voice barely permeating through the wood imploring me to let him in.

Tears fell down my cheeks while I rubbed my belly, all I wanted was for us to be a happy family, but I needed Franklin to be fully committed. Sinking down onto our bed I contemplated where this left us. I almost packed a bag to stay with a friend for the night but I was too tired to go through with it, the fighting had taken all the energy out of me. The mattress cuddled my body but it wasn’t as good as Franklin, which only made the drops fall harder. My sadness deepened when the knocks stopped, the room now a void, offering no comfort to me. Dread sat in my belly as I drifted off into a restless sleep.

~~~

Physically and emotionally I was strung out, I was in no mood to talk or argue so I had been tiptoeing around Franklin all day, his behavior had made me seriously start to question if he was truly invested in our relationship. Once dinner rolled around I padded my way into the kitchen, the baby had been craving some sweets and I was highly considering just binging on candy.

I glanced over to the stove to find a ridiculous sight standing before me. Franklin had his bowling shirt on- he honestly rarely took it off and had about 5 of them. Covering most of the front of his yellow button up was a baby sling I had bought a few weeks ago in preparation, in it sat my old purple bowling ball I used when I was in Highschool. He must’ve dug it out of our closet as I hadn’t used it since our last competition senior year. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I reminisced about the old team where we’d first met. I gazed at the 8 pound perfectly round ball, weighing down and stretching the fabric directly in the middle, it looked exactly like what you’d think a bowling ball in a baby sling would look- ridiculous.

“I remember you saying you’ve been craving something sweet so I decided to make pancakes for dinner, I even added chocolate chips.” He spoke, breaking me out of my memory. I hadn’t even noticed he was making pancakes, my focus on the bowling ball strapped to his stomach.

“We’re not going to talk about the bowling ball?”

“Well I was being a dick-” I swiftly cut him off. My rage was being stoked slightly by his whimsical attitude, I couldn’t tell if he was trying to cheer me up or was really that thick and couldn’t understand my frustrations.

“Yeah, that’s the understatement of the century.” I’m sure the steely edge to my tone was not lost on Franklin, and I still wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of eye contact.

“Like I was saying- I was being a dick and I was thinking to myself, ‘Frankie she’s carrying the weight of the relationship right now. You want to get inside a woman’s head? You become a woman.’ So I thought I’d join you in solidarity- as an apology.”

Silence filled my part of the conversation as I pondered his words. It certainly was an odd way for someone to make up a fight, usually people bought flowers, chocolate, or go on a fancy date. Franklin, however, always had a way of apologizing in the most obnoxious and ridiculous ways that were incredibly sweet, but also made me want to bang my head against the wall. He had stopped flipping the pancakes, anxiously awaiting my reply to his apology. The slight char they were getting wafted a burnt smell through the air.

“This is the first thing you thought of for an apology?” I giggled out breaking the tense silence, his shoulders relaxed as he let out an audible puff of breath. I may have found this funny but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook just yet.

“Well- you know me, I’m not very good at apologies.” He said in a regretful tone, turning back to the pancakes finally removing the almost carbonized pancake from the skillet. A cringe made its way onto his face after catching sight of the rubbery burnt cake and swiftly chucked it in the trash. “I really am sorry Y/N.”

“You’re saying that now because your back hurts- Am I right?” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, still not fully accepting this apology.

“No, that’s not the main reason I’m apologizing, but yes, oh my god my back fucking hurts.” His right hand started to massage his sore back as his other poured in the last scrapes of pancakes, sprinkling it with an exorbitant amount of chocolate chips. My mouth was watering at the sight and delicious aroma.

“How long have you been wearing it?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the heavenly scent.

“Like 10 minutes, I totally understand why you waddle now” Flipping over the last pancake, he started to set the table, his waddles were even more awkward compared to mine because of his long limbs.

“Well now that you understand, you’d better be massaging my feet everyday to make up for it.” I sharply stated though I couldn’t help but slip in a few giggles in between. I had been carrying this baby close to 9 months and Franklin could barely handle 10 minutes without keeling over.

“Yes, of course. I promise.” He set the plates of pancakes down on our round table, then pulled out one of the chairs and helped me sit down. I noticed that he had even set up the silverware in its supposed proper place along with the napkins folded into little triangles, he did go all out to make it up to me.“You know, you're the actual god in this family.” He remarked as he slung off the baby sling, relieving the tension from his back. I wished I could do the same.

“I love you, you big weirdo.” I snorted in response. While his godliness was usually referring to his bowling skills, it was nice to have my literal creation and carrying of life inside of me acknowledged too.

“I love you too” He wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing soft kisses to my neck and rubbing my belly, silently assuring me that everything would be alright.

#franklin #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #franklin x reader #mgg #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #beginner’s luck #franklin imagine #franklin fanfic #franklin fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fic

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femboty2k · 3 years

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Long post about something I think about a lot and that doesn’t matter to anyone else but me probably

I’m sure there’s a million posts out there on why good representation is important and good but I just wanted to talk shortly about something that happened to me in a recent span of a few months involving a character in a dumb game about collecting jpegs of anime women and hunky dudes with giant swords.

There’s a game called Granblue Fantasy, its an extremely popular gacha game/JRPG with a very large roster of characters and a lot of stuff to do as far as reading through character lore, fighting JRPG battles, raids, and basically playing VNs for character dialogue. It’s a pretty good game, and one of the coolest things about it, is it has (to my knowledge, I dont play/keep up with it very often) 2 canon trans characters. One is named Cagliostro, an alchemist who was born as a man but through extensive experimentation and some self discovery has since transitioned into a woman, hell bent on making herself as cute as possible. Fun right? She’s presented extremely well and is one of the game’s more fun characters. The second character is one that has become a personal favourite for me for many reasons, her name is Ladiva.

Ladiva is a part of a race of people called the Draph. The Draph are a humanoid, and pretty much human looking, race of people with their defining features being their large stature and bovine like horns and ears. This is important because male draph are usually much larger and more muscular than female draph (but its a horny anime game so who can say they’re surprised lol). Ladiva, as my discussion here makes obvious, is a trans woman belonging to these folk. Because of this, she’s both quite large, muscular(and more masculine presenting on the surface), and has rugged looking facial hair. The surprising thing about her presentation in comparison to how she looks, is that she’s presented incredibly well. despite her appearance being not as feminine as it could be (with Cagliostro even offering to make her a new totally feminine body only to have Ladiva refuse, stating that she should love her own body along with the rest of herself) she’s treated as what she is, a woman.

So why am I talking about this? Why am I putting my poorly put together thoughts on this tumblr post no one will read? Well, I am trans. I have felt a certain way about myself all my life that I’m sure most trans people can echoe so I won’t wast time waxing poetic about how I’ve always felt more feminine than I was “supposed” to be. My core purpose of this post comes from the fact that I am 6′2, nearly 300lbs of muscle/fat/body hair, and have had a full beard since I was 14. I am EXCEEDINGLY masculine, which has made my own internal struggle with my transness sort of difficult to accept. A sort of constant push and pull of wanting to just repress it all because I already pass as a man and wanting to work towards being who I know I actually am. Another factor is that I never felt truly comfortable with purely feminine pronouns. In highschool I went by a different name, and I used she/her pronouns and for a while it felt okay. But it was always just, okay. It never felt right on top of several people giving me some rather hurtful backlash for it and how it contrasted so much with my physical appearance. So I stowed it all away until about a year ago. I now have something that I didn’t have before, a truly wonderful and supportive group of adult friends who treat me like an adult as well and take me seriously. So through careful examination of how I felt i began trying new things to explore my identity. It began with me deciding I wanted to use they/them pronouns, this stuck and still feels like its the right thing for me along with the label of Nonbinary. However, slotting myself into this new label and finally feeling comfortable in an identity brought about new thoughts as well as new things to mull over in my head. Things like the fact that most nonbinary representation in media falls under the same category of a waifish AFAB person who presemts femininely if not androgynous, and how people like me are a vocal minority within the community itself even being excluded by a small portion of it. It was a new set of things to tackle and think about. But that aside, with them came the most important thing I asked myself, “am I comfortable with how I am now? Or do those thoughts I had all those years ago mean something?”

This question isnt easy. Gender is a strange subject and is different to everyone who experiences something with their identity, so I wont pretend like I have any definitive answers for anything because, there arent really any of those. The question for myself, boiled down to “Am I more comfortable identifying as transfeminine, or am I comfortable with just being nonbinary.” This question vexed me for a little while. It hurt to think about. A lifetime of bullying and being made to be ashamed of my body type and stature had made my confidence in myself rather lackluster. This made the decision more difficult. It would be easy to try and own a sense of pride in being a masculine presenting nonbinary person. There aren’t many of those in representation as I mentioned before, and at the time it made me feel nice to think that it was what I wanted. But those thoughts I had all those years ago did mean something, and thats not who I am. The answer I ultimately came to, was that I am trans, and want to present more feminine than masculine, because that’s who I know I am, and not just what I think would be easiest. So, to bring it all together, how the everloving fuck does this relate to a character from a gacha game? Well, when i first saw Ladiva I nearly wrote her off as a character that probably was used as a disrespectful joke on trans women and how they’re viewed. She’s not though. She has an entire montra of loving herself and others for who they are and owning every aspect of herself, including her body. She’s not a small lady, she’s a large/muscular wrestler who, in no mistake of words, still looks very masculine, right down to her facial hair. But none of that matters, not her appearance, not her beard, not her height, she’s still a woman and she’s seen as one by the others around her because, well, that’s what she is. She makes it known and others accept, or at the very least, respect it. It was something entirely new to see something like this in a form of popular media, and in turn it gave me an odd sense of self confidence in my own current appearance, even though I do intend on changing it through HRT and other means (exercise and other health related means). It meant a lot to me to see someone who was, in at least some way, like me who was loved by the community of the game she was in. And it still does. In conclusion, Ladiva is a very cool character, and her existing gave me a boost of confidence that helped lead me towards accepting things about myself that I had found it hard to previously. Go look into Granblue if you like games like that, there’s even a fighting game that came out not too long ago. Thanks for reading, if you did, this whole post is long and kind of dumb because I’m kind of dumb. But I wanted to put it somewhere. Have a nice day <3

#rambling #long post #ladiva #granblue fantasy #thanks granblue #kinda dumb just ignore me lol #im just talkin to myself #trans #guess ill throw that tag on there #shrug #nonbinary #gender stuff

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ameftowriter · 4 years

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Belief and Faith (Dr. Stone Fanfic)

I finally finished this fic after working on it for so long. It’s supposed to be the sequel of my 5738 A.D. 4,1 fic that I did a while back.

Either way this is essentially Episode 9 in Gen's POV. I really wanted to explore his mindset during this episode, after knowing about the observatory scene and all that. I finally got to work on it and here I am posting it now! YAY!

I hope you all like it!

Summary: Asagiri Gen never truly believed in anyone. But after seeing that date carved into a tree, he had to find out if this Senku person really was the one who did it. Would Senku be able to convince Gen using the power of science? or will the Mentalist continue to doubt the Scientist till the end?

Ao3 | ffnet

Part 1 | Part 2 (This!) | Part 3 | Part 4 ???

Asagiri Gen never truly believed in anyone. Not even to his own parents. Like they ever gave a crap about him in the first place. The only thing he learned from them was to be paranoid of everyone around him. So he grew up never having any belief in anyone around him. Not even his teachers, the police, even little old grannies that would find him adorable.

Even when he became a famous celebrity, he never fully trusted his manager, assistants, and even the cameraman.

There really were just no one he could put his faith in. There was no point for him to put any kind of faith in anyone other than himself.

Belief? Only to himself.

Faith? Definitely only to himself.

And thus why the Great Magician/Mentalist, Asagiri Gen never really trusted anyone other than himself.

"I thought I've seen you somewhere before…" Senku finally spoke, “You’re Asagiri Gen right?”

Gen knew how to deduce someone's personality from just their dialogue. His mentalism training had earned him that skill. He realized that Senku spoke with no hint of hesitation nor fear. Instead this man spoke with confidence and pride, it was odd to the mentalist, but he of course didn’t show any of that.

When Senku called him a “trashy magician” though...

“Read my work, have you? How wonderful!” Gen finally spoke to him with relief on his tone, this was a mix of truth and lies. “But that “trashy magician” barb was cruel…”

“Please, call me a mentalist.”

He honestly preferred to be called a mentalist. It looked and sounded more professional to him.

“Look, I apologize for taking the ramen without asking. So please, will you be so kind as to lower your weapons?” Gen went to work on his “stage” as he observed the three still have their weapons pointed at him. Not like he had anything to fear from the two spearmen. He knew that the blonde warrior girl was a bigger threat. She was the only one who could fight with Tsukasa after all.

“My arms and legs are trembling in fear.” He spoke ever so sweetly as he moved the bowl of ramen towards shorter blonde spearman, Ginro was his name as he heard earlier. He also heard earlier about him wanting some. “And I’m worried I may spill this heavenly bowl…”

The spearman quickly dropped his spear and reached out to the bowl of ramen, incredibly eager to hold it for him.

Gen then began telling his wonderful story, and it was all filled with lies, of course. He didn't want these fierce villagers to think he's a threat. He wove the tale with a relaxed composure and filled his words with sounds of relief and joy. It was easy as breathing for him. Though, he did notice that the blonde warrior girl didn't seem a tiny bit convinced. He would commend her for her keen senses if it wasn't for the fact that he needed to keep his persona on all the time.

The fact that everyone else except for her and seemingly Senku as well, had bought his tale, that was already enough for the Mentalist.

"Yeah sure… whatever you say, man…" Senku responded. It was obvious now that he didn't buy any word of what Gen had just said. "But still… there's no such thing as a free lunch…"

His words got everyone's attention.

"Everyone else who ate the ramen… has got some work to do…"

Asagiri Gen was impressed by Senku's wit and cunning. So now he knew who he was dealing with. He would like to delve into more, but the mention of work has got him feeling that he was going to regret everything he's done today.

And he was right.

His arms felt like they're about to fall off.

He along with three others were pushed into, what he guessed is a furnace made for melting iron, (yet another thing added to the list of what Gen was impressed about Senku) and was told to blow air into it using an odd contraption that he needed to simultaneously move up and down repeatedly until Senku tells them to stop.

That was about three hours ago….

And he hasn't told them to stop at all.

One of the girls had already given up and fainted and was quickly replaced by the blonde warrior girl from earlier.

Gen was practically dead at this point.

He knew that making iron manually was hard work, but he didn't know it was this hard…

"Question for ya Gen…" Senku approached the mentalist, "How are Taiju and Yuzuriha doing these days?"

It seems Gen had underestimated Senku way more than he thought.

"Oh… so that's your game, yeah?" If Gen could chuckle right now he would, "Work me into a state of exhaustion, and fool me into feeding up?"

It was an effective, yet laughable technique to Gen. How many fools have pulled this on him, he'd already lost count. And he was still only nineteen after all. Though, he really should have seen that coming a mile away.

"You've got guts…" Gen told the truth this time. He was indeed impressed by Senku. He could tell that this man was, if not, the bravest man he's met over the years he's lived. "Trying to pull a trick like that on a renowned Mentalist…."

Gen then decides to start his plan. If this Senku really is all what Tsukasa talked about then…

"Don't worry though… Taiju-chan's strength is seemingly without end…. But you know that.. Right? Senku-chan?"

Gen turned to face the Scientist with his trademarked heinous crafty smile.

'Prove it, Senku-chan… prove to me that you are the one who did that carving…'

"He's definitely with that long haired man!" The warrior girl, Kohaku, he remembered her name, "Should I kill him?"

'Ah… Kohaku-chan is so naive… so, so naive…'

"Wait. You fool." Senku stopped Kohaku from doing anything drastic to Gen, it was to be expected, but still a big relief to him, "All right, Gen. You ten billion percent knew, I was trying to make you talk. So why'd you suddenly slip that you're working for Tsukasa?"

'Ten billion percent? Your catchphrase I presume? Though, it does tell me that you're not the one to rely on luck. That, you're the kind of person that would make sure everything was in "ten billion percent" certainty. How interesting…'

"Well, because once I saw all of this…." Gen turned his expression to the most realistic fake smile he could produce, “The tides’ turned as they say…”

Senku didn’t say anymore, and he left the mentalist to continue his job.

Gen was still incredibly skeptical of Senku. Why? Because, anyone could eventually reinvent iron making. It wouldn’t take a genius to do that. Even the biggest dolts he’s ever met could do it. He looked at Senku, who would spend most of his free time just staring up at the stars. He quickly saw the desire and admiration at his trained eyes. Gen knew that Senku was an idealistic dreamer, just from that expression alone. So much for being a logical bastard.

It’s not like Gen would admit that he was kind of like that, despite knowing way too much on psychology.

He suddenly felt thirsty for a cola. He quickly tried to shake that feeling off. As there was no way to make any kind of cola in this world.

There was absolutely no way for Senku to beat Tsukasa…. Not even, as Senku himself said, a single millimeter of a chance. None of the villagers he has seen could even come close in strength to even the goons that Tsukasa has awakened. Let alone, Shishio Tsukasa, The Strongest Primate Highschooler. It would have been a simple landslide victory, to take over this village, honestly. But to see them making Iron….

“I have a simple task, and that is to confirm your death beyond any doubt.” Gen and Senku talked just outside the vicinity of the “Kingdom of Science” as Senku puts it. Senku had a complete stoic expression as he faced the Mentalist.

“Tsukasa-chan! Senku is still alive!” Gen spoke in his convincing distressed tone, then magically turned back to this smug tone, “One little phrase, and your fate will be sealed. That was my initial plan…”

Gen was honestly surprised to see that Senku didn’t even once flinch at his words.

“But if you are able to finish forging weapons made of iron. There’s no telling who’d come out on top.”

The villagers celebrated their victory as the full fledged iron bar was finally made. Gen was… surprised so to speak.

“All I found, was a tiny primitive village! It seems Senku is no more” Gen then spoke in his convincing lamenting tone, “One fraudulent report would spare your life. Does that sound good to you?”

The Mentalist has never met Senku before. He’s only heard of him from Tsukasa and everyone else. Taiju and Yuzuriha, who were the supposed best friends of this Senku only spoke of grief for him. All he heard else was science and that he’s the most intelligent man alive. They were right. He had little to no stamina. They were right. He only wants to revive everyone no matter what. They were right…

His mind went to that date on the tree.

Considering everyone he had talked to at the Empire of Might, it seemed he was the only one who’ve even seen it. Let alone be aware of it.

Gen thought to himself, if that was the sole reason why he’s even bothered to offer Senku this proposition. This chance, for him to lie in front of the Emperor of Might, Shishio Tsukasa to save the King of Science, Senku…

He wondered to himself, why did he ever bother to even consider that option.

“Actually, its music to my ears, and I’d really appreciate you doing that.” Senku chuckled. He was happy to hear that from the mentalist.

Quite frankly, Gen felt insulted by those words.

“Now, don’t go thinking I’ve got some moral compass!” Gen doesn’t. No, not even close. He learned way before, once he got to feel his way into show business that having morals was the biggest taboo of all. “I’m unbelievably shallow! Give me a life surrounded by hot girls, and I’m as happy as a clam!”

Asagiri Gen convinced himself that he was shallowest man alive. The most superficial man on earth! He only wanted anything just because he wanted to. No more, no less. Any kind of idealistic thoughts or dramatic bull that he’s heard was nothing more than light feathery fluff of words. Words that he used as a weapon to tossle even the most fearsome of human beings.

“I couldn’t care less if you and that primate Tsukasa-chan, live or die…” He really doesn’t. Like he gave any kind of care in general to anyone but himself. He was taught in the old world that it was a survival of the fittest after all.

At least… that's what he kept telling himself.

“I’ll be on the winning side. No matter what I have to do."

Gen thought he would say this naturally. But somehow he felt himself forcing those words and that tone out of his mouth. So to brush it off, he continued to speak as he described the pros and cons of the two kingdoms. The science, the food, the labour, the chance of reviving pretty ladies…. Well honestly, he just said that to keep up the shallow facade, harems were a lot of work after all. And with a man like Gen who doesn't even trust his own flesh and blood family, what more could he do with a group of ogling women?

He had to make sure the cute little melon girl, Suika that Gen admits has taken a liking to, wouldn't know what a harem really is. He can't hurt the poor thing now.

Of course she brought up about ramen still being better.

On a balmy day like this, he would honestly prefer an ice cold cola.

And there goes the warrior girl ready to slit his throat open…. Gen respected her and her spirit and all, but damn she was scary as all hell.

"No. If he doesn't go back and give his report, Tsukasa will come looking for him and we'll all be screwed." Gen was once again impressed by Senku's deductions. He was right. The mentalist had become an important piece in the board whether anyone liked it or not.

Asagiri Gen lived without seeing those blades for another day.

He raised an eyebrow at Senku's confidence. It seems if he saw what the Kingdom of Science was going to make with the iron that there was a "ten billion percent" chance that he'll join him.

"Oh? What's that?" Gen spoke mockingly at the young scientist. As if he could impress the Mentalist, "Think you can sway me with a sword?"

Shishio Tsukasa could break any kind of iron weapons easily. What could Senku even bring to the table of negotiations that could even slightly convince Gen to join his side?

"How 'bout a Generator?"

Asagiri Gen thinks he has actually overestimated Senku.

"A GENERATOR??!!" Gen let his facade break just for a bit. He could not even comprehend that… that… what the hell was Senku doing??!! "Are you freaking kidding me?! No way you can pull that off!!"

And he was completely ignored.

Gen was left behind, as he trembled in place. He just could not understand why Senku said that. He couldn't get it. How in the holy hell did Senku jumped from iron making to making a Generator?! A Generator! Somehow Senku was just going to make electricity out of thin air! Gen was supposed to be the magician here!

He's tried to comprehend Senku's train of thought when he heard about copper and lightning.

It looks like the Gods have spoken because it was suddenly storming.

Everyone else except Senku thought it was a lucky break, but it seemed the scientist quickly put everyone to work.

"The Generator will run on lightning?" He threw the question as a joke.

"No. That's ridiculous…" Senku shot it down quickly.

"Of course it is…" Gen chuckled to himself knowing he'd get that answer.

Then Senku started mumbling something about magnets. And needing some to make the generator.

Everything else just went as a blur, Gen couldn't keep up with that and the labour he was forced to do again, and the many other things that Senku and the other three did on their own. So he just stood by and watched closely as he tried to understand they were doing. Gen was both impressed by what Senku, and he was still just as confused. He didn't understand it at first. But he felt himself get invested at this generator project. He wanted to see what the outcome would be. After all, he put in a ton of hard work on this himself.

"This is bad! It's Magma!" The young man who Gen assumed as Senku's young apprentice, Chrome exclaimed out loud.

The mentalist turned to the bridge and saw a large burly blond haired man and behind him were two other villagers. They all bore the look of deviousness and eagerness to fight. It was obvious to him who Magma was and who were his henchmen. He immediately deduced Magma's power as well, as even Kohaku was already prepared to fight them. While everyone else shook in fear of the incoming bully. Even Senku felt nervous at the possible confrontation.

As he observed the Kingdom's reactions to his arrival, he realized they were an honest bunch. Gen could only sigh. He immediately knew what kind of person this Magma was. When he saw Senku panic, that's when he knew what to do.

"Well this won't do. I simply can't let myself get killed because of you lot." He turned to Suika and asked her nicely, "Fetch me some flowers, Suika-chan."

"Instead of war. Flowers."

He can't have this bully and his little goons mess up his work after all. There was already too much effort and manpower poured into this. After he observed them, their posture, expressions, walking patterns, and even the expressions of others.

This… was gonna be a piece of cake.

After he received a bunch of daisies from the little melon girl, Gen made his way into the bridge to meet up with Magma and his goons. He put on his special "light hearted, happy-go-lucky" expression. A simple bright eyed, relaxed face and a big smile… He then presented to them the flowers as if he were holding a bouquet.

"What the hell is that guy holding flowers for?!" The taller henchmen yelled in disgust, "Doesn't he know we're looking for a fight?!"

One check on Gen's list of deductions.

"Yeah!" The little midget henchmen agreed with them.

"Were you the one who made the Gods so angry?" Magma asked him jokingly, already ready to kill Gen on the spot, "Stepping up to me, takes more balls than brains…"

And another check for Magma's obvious egotistical pride.

"Oh I'm sorry…" Gen replied in his pseudo apologetic tone, as he discreetly moved the flowers in between his fingers. "But were trying to use our sorcery to stop this wretched terror from above!"

"Quit talking out of your ass!" Magma accused him. Gen didn't think the meathead had it in him. But of course he needed to do what he needed to do.

"Allow me to show you." With swift talented fingers, Gen made the flowers seemingly disappear in front of the bullies. In truth it was just tucked in behind his hands and into his sleeves.

"They disappeared! Did you see that?!" Magma was total disbelief, and so were his goons. They shook in fear as Gen waved his arms to show that there really was nothing. To them it really looked like Gen made the flowers disappear from his hands. When in reality it was just a simple backpalm technique, that even the most amateur magicians knew how to do it.

It truly was child's play for the magician.

Further lightning strikes had scared the goons away and Magma followed suit.

It seemed Magma, while strong, doesn't feel as confident without his buddies following him around.

After they had finished preparing the iron rods, they dashed up to a place called Bald Mountain. Quite an unfortunate name for a mountain.

Senku mentioned about a scientist in NASA whose name Gen can't pronounce, that managed to make powerful magnets using lightning. And that's why they're climbing up to the mountain to do the exact same thing as he did...

Gen had no idea what possessed him to climb the mountain with them but it seems his deepening curiosity needed to be sated. Now he's bare handed with no ropes climbing up the little mountain. He stopped for a bit to breathe and realized that Senku was still far behind and was already exhausted.

'Is this really the guy that Tsukasa-chan is afraid of?!' Gen just can't believe at the sight of this Senku… 'He's not even in a quarter of the way up and he's panting like a dog. He has less stamina than me!'

Kohaku noticed it as well and just unceremoniously picked him up which also shocked Gen. Then she continued hopping along the mountain side while carrying Senku like a ragdoll.

'This girl is too strong to be human!'

He had to admit, Kohaku had a better chance of even hurting Tsukasa in a fight.

'Senku-chan's only strength is his scientific prowess. It's useful and can be powerful to even against the world's strongest… but.. would that be enough?'

Gen wasn't referring to the weapons. He just saw Senku as nothing more than a child eager to play with anything he could get his hands on. That bold statement that he was going to make a generator with an iron rod, by turning it into a magnet using lightning. Using the power of science…

There was no way. There was absolutely no way a regular teenager, even if the said teenager was a genius, could even come close to making something as absurd as that.

There was just no way.

And even if he can do it… how can a generator even beat the Strongest Primate Highschooler and his empire of muscular people? This Kohaku woman and this Magma and the strong looking villagers that he could see wouldn't even be able to come close to achieving that.

'What could a generator do?'

'Why even make a generator?!'

As they reached the top, everyone quickly went to work in setting up a lightning rod. It was difficult considering the rocky surface.

Gen stood by and watched them along with Suika.

Senku went to work along with Chrome and Kohaku. The Mentalist had noticed that the young scientist was still visibly exhausted from their climb, and yet, he was still trying to set up the lightning rod. Even with the risk of lightning hitting them...

Gen just can't understand it. He can't comprehend the situation in front of him right now.

'This is impossible… how can you… How can you even make one Senku-chan? There's nothing here… this lightning is gonna kill us all! How can you be so stubborn??!!'

His thoughts were quickly interrupted when he saw Kohaku dashed towards the guards who were right behind him, kicked the golden spear off their hands, and in one swift motion..

'No… there's no way… it can't work…'

Tied it with the iron rod with her hair tie, and pierced the ground.

Just in time for the lightning to go through it.

'No… no way ..'

The rod took in the intense power of the heavens and created a natural light show in front of them. Senku's face filled with delight as he witnessed the creation of his high powered magnets.

'He actually did it…' Gen felt like his mind was blown, 'The bastard actually did it…'

"Hahah… This is crazy Senku-chan…" He let out a weak flabbergasted laugh, "Starting with nothing in this barren Stone World…"

"You actually pulled it off…."

'It really is him…' Gen came to that conclusion as he saw the skies clear and the sunlight shone through the dark clouds, as if the heavens themselves were shining upon Senku.

That's when Asagiri Gen had realized. This Senku is the mystery counter he'd been looking for. This Senku, was the one who wrote the date on the tree.

Gen finally believed in him.

"Electricity is in play. Get excited people!"

And honestly, he was pretty excited too.

"I'm curious Senku-chan…" Gen eventually managed to keep his emotions together and tried not to reveal them to everyone, "Are you making a Thermal Generator, or a Wind Turbine? I don't suppose you're going nuclear yet are we?"

Senku then turned to face Gen, gave him the most "are you serious" look and replied as he picked on his ear.

"It'll be muscle powered…"

"I figured as much…"

Gen was pretty sure that he died somewhere along the way… again.

After the intense labour at the furnace, Gen was allowed to observe the willing members of the Kingdom of Science to finish the rest of the parts. Senku gave them all directions on what to do and how to use the materials. Though, there was something that was bothering the Mentalist. Something that he had noticed from the beginning but held his tongue, and he thought of what to say. When Senku persisted on this, he needed to bring it up.

"Maybe I should just ask…" Gen spoke grabbing Senku's attention.

The Scientist's face was puffed up. His eyes were nearly closed shut, his cheeks and lips were swollen, and his voice sounded strained.

"Why do you look like Anpanman?" Gen bluntly asked without any underlying reason. Just plain curiosity.

"Lacquer poisoning…"

Later that day, the Generator was finally complete. It contained two huge flat copper wheels in which it's engraved with Senku's little icon and his name, held by two cranks made out of bamboo as well. In between contained the two high powered magnets and it stood on a large bamboo table complete with the flag of Science in the middle.

Now the conversation switched on how to operate it. It needed to be synchronized spinning otherwise it would fall apart.

So now they needed a pair of people who can work together and were energetic…

A certain pair came to everyone's mind.

But of course Kinro immediately declined. He was still obviously angry about the loss of his precious golden spear. Ginro would just follow his brother even when it was obvious he wanted to help.

So Gen stepped forward. He knew the group’s honest personalities would not do any favours for him and everyone else for that matter. It was way better for the mentalist to do what he does best.

The Mentalist kept repeating to himself that it's gone far to the point, he couldn't afford to see his precious efforts go to waste. He kept on repeating it to himself.

Asagiri Gen was only a superficial man for superficial reasons…

He wasn't doing this for Senku's sake. Not at all.

He kept telling himself that.

So he can believe that he was doing all of these… for how own gain. Not for Senku nor the Kingdom of Science…

"Wow! Electricity sure is amazing! Thanks sorcery!" Gen placed his metaphorical mask of preppiness and giddiness. He made it bombastic enough to make it infectious. "In our technological civilization… electricity lets us have all sorts of nice things!"

Gen waved his arms around and spun around and made it look like he was dancing in excitement

Kinro turned around in annoyance.

"With our new Generator…" Gen began his carefully constructed (something he made up on the fly) lie, "When can even make and repair gold and silver tipped spears! Isn't that right Senku-chan?!"

“Electrocoating is pretty damn difficult…” Senku leaned over and annoyingly whispered that fact to him. Gen was relieved that there really was something like that. He truly had no idea. “Do you even know the recipe?”

‘Do you think I’m the kind of guy who would know anything about that Senku-chan?’

"I don’t have the faintest idea!" Gen whispered back with a shrug and a lopsided smile.

"I was right about you…" Kohaku commented, as she was obviously annoyed with Gen's antics, "Every word out of your mouth really is just feathery fluff…"

‘You know it girl!’

It was only a simple persuasion trick using the one sole thing the two brothers wanted so badly. He wasn’t told about it, but it was painfully obvious since he first met them. The eager looks on Kinro's and Ginro's faces were confirmation enough that Gen's words had a powerful effect on the brothers. The mentalist didn't say anything else, and let Senku do the rest for him.

The battle cry of the two brothers echoed throughout the dimming day as they spinned the generator with such furious intensity as if it were the last thing they had to do. Senku mentioned that it had to be this way otherwise it would never generate enough electricity.

“Kinro and Ginro are mine now…” Senku grinned in victory, “The Kingdom of Science is building up a solid workforce.”

Gen watched the brothers do their new jobs and pondered why it had it required such intense manual labour.

He did still doubted the thing, with that kind of intense work. He just had to ask…

“But are they actually generating electricity?” Gen still couldn’t believe it.

That is until Senku showed him something, it rested on a big leaf. “It’s a steam roasted bamboo fiber.”

The fiber was almost hard to see at first, but when he got a good look at it. It formed a familiar zig zag pattern.

It was almost too familiar…

But he couldn’t quite place it…

“Does it need to be that high up?” Kohaku asked as she brought the wires to Senku and he climbed onto the roof of the science shed. He joined Chrome as they placed the leaf with the fiber on the top.

“Not really…” Senku chuckled, “But I figured we might as well…”

Gen finally remembered why the fiber’s shape was so familiar to him. His eyes widened in shock as he gasped.

“I see now…” He managed to say, as he couldn’t even try to hide his surprise anymore, “He’s using that bamboo fiber to create an Edison light bulb…”

“I’ve never heard of a bulb of light…” Suika wondered but her question fell on deaf ears as Gen just gaped at Senku…

Memories of many, many, many, many lights flashed before his eyes. The stage, the audience, the props, the curtains, even the stage hands, his manager, the volunteers, the tricks, the… everything…

“Chrome…” Senku began, “Does the night scare you?”

Gen remembered when the stage went dark to prepare himself and the audience for what’s to come. He remembered to always take a deep breath and put on his best smile and stage presence to everyone on the show. So that even the cameraman, even the cleaning crew… would get excited for his performance…

“Well yeah… because everything gets dark…” Chrome replied the obvious answer, “Why’d you ask?”

“Back in my day, there was no darkness…”

Much later after his amazingly successful performance on stage, he became a guest on a popular nighttime TV show. His presence alone gave him a standing ovation. The studio lights shone upon him, while it was blazing hot, he accepted the lights of his popularity happily as if it were his best friend. The host was happy to have him and praised his success in his young age. He humbly accepted those kind words and thanked the host back. He was even offered a bottle of cola as they chatted happily about his budding career. Of course Gen had his whole speech prepared, for this occasion. But nonetheless, he can't help but admire the shine of the lights on the cola bottle in front of him. He drank it happily.

“With old man Edison’s incandescent light bulb, humanity beat back the night. Conquering all 24 hours of the day.”

The spotlights moved to the center of the stage and shone on the young budding magician in the center. The host would enthusiastically introduce Asagiri Gen for everyone and the audience live or even at their homes watching him on the television cheered for him. Those lights were the signal for him. For him to finally do what he does best. To dazzle the audience with his mentalist abilities combined with amazing magical tricks.The hot yet dazzling lights followed the magician as he, with a flick of a wrist and the proper tone of voice, made the audience be awed by his carefully crafted and practiced tricks. He then waved his arm and spoke to the audience asking for an eager volunteer to come on stage. He then lets the spotlight move to a young woman he had picked and let her come and meet him personally. She was thrilled. But he did not know her at all. And yet, with his mentalist training that he painstakingly gained throughout his life, he managed to wow her even more. And with her, the whole audience was amazed.

“Through the power of science, mankind defeated the darkness…”

Asagiri Gen knew where the swords were inserted and easily let them slip around his body. He had carefully practiced this along with his fellow assistants. Everything was going according to plan. Everyone loved him and his tricks. He was not only an amazing magician but he was also a highly skilled mentalist. He worked hard day and night to master his craft. He always let out a humble speech for it, but in truth he was proud and happy for everything he had gained for himself. The audience’s reactions were a wonderful confirmation of his skills.

“And now we’re gonna do it again…”

As Gen came out of the box, obviously unschated by the trick, he basked in the lights of the stage and the cheers of the audience.

Then everything went dark. He became immobile, and eventually, like everyone else who were petrified that fateful day, he went into a long deep sleep.

“For the first time in 3700 years… The Flame of Science will burn!”

It was brief, a second, a single moment… But it was there. It was indeed there. The light. The light that became Asagiri Gen’s best friend for most of his life and career. The light that shone on him. The light that showed his successes and his failures. The light that shone on him, his props, the curtains, his assistants, the volunteers, the guests… The light that shone on the bottle of cola. The light that was the last thing he saw before the seemingly eternal darkness...

One of the greatest byproducts of electricity.

The “Flame of Science”.

The Light of Science.

The light of civilization…

Artificial Lighting…

And it only lasted for a brief moment in time.

But to Gen and everyone else who witnessed that moment. It felt like it was an eternity…

He could only stare in awe. Just like how the natural light shone upon Senku as he grabbed the magnet he crafted earlier.

The artificial light that shone upon this young scientist, was far stronger and brighter than what the heavens did for him.

Gen felt like… like… like he was an audience from his shows. He gazed at the man in front of him as if he was the performer on stage.

But instead of a skillfully carefully crafted trick that was practiced for years.

It was a culmination of two million years of scientific knowledge. Displayed in front of him and to the entire world by a young man two years younger than he was.

‘He can do it…’

‘He really can do it.’

‘Oh my god… He will do it…’

For the first time in three thousand seven hundred and thirty eight years of his life…

Asagiri Gen had faith in Senku.

#asagiri gen #ishigami senku #dr stone #dcst #dr. stone #drst #chome dr stone #kohaku dr stone #suika dr stone #magma dr stone #kinro dr stone #ginro dr stone #fanfic #part 2 #the psychoanalysis of Asagiri Gen

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moved-builtintripping · 4 years

Text

Watchful

FF.net / AO3

“A minor inconvenience provoked Dorothea to swear, and Ferdinand warns her of the grave consequences of bearing a dirty mouth, whose owner won't wake up with a gift ready to open under the tree on Christmas morning. Dorothea can't place whether her boyfriend wearing a worried pout, his index finger placed on his lips to shush his girlfriend, looked punchable or kissable.”

Modern AU fic for @stag-of-almyra, who requested me to write a fic based on a prompt list i reblogged for shits and giggles~ I mean I only write sometimes, but it’s fun anyway, sooooo i gave it a try for, yet again, shits and giggles uwu

Prompt is “ferdinand/dorothea + “careful, santa’s watching”

Also merry christmas again!!

***

“Oh, shit!”

Dorothea shrieked when her pinky toe hit the leg of one of the kitchen chairs, the incredibly horrible sensation harshly coursing through her feet. She squeezed her eyes shut and repeatedly clicked her tongue as she brought her damaged foot in her hand as a fruitless attempt to ward off the tear-jerking soreness while her other hand gripped the edge of the table to balance herself. She might have bitterly spent her early childhood wandering the streets bare-footed, which meant stepping on the tiny littered glass shards of broken beer bottles and letting it sharply pierce through the sole of your feet had become second-nature to you. However, nothing could rival the indescribable pain of having one’s own pinky toe collide onto a hard surface.

“Be careful.”

A portion of her attention concentrating on her current anguish had redirected to Ferdinand’s worried voice. Had it not been for the unbearable stinging in her toe, she would guffaw and playfully swoon over the boy’s concern. Not that she was that touched by Ferdinand’s every sign of worry (or was she?), but come on, where’s the fun on reassuring your boyfriend on every passing second like in those cliché romantic dramas instead of exaggerating your partially-mock thankfulness for his fear for your safety like in those cliché romantic comedies?

When Dorothea regained enough strength (though she was fully convinced seconds ago that the sting could never recover), she cracked her eyes open to peek at Ferdinand, who’s supposed to be enjoying a nice cup of hot chocolate as he sat on the other side of the table. Instead of a mildly panicked look residing his cute face, she was greeted by what seemed to be Ferdinand shushing her, his index finger placed on his lips and his brows knitted so deep it could frighten Bernadetta until she falls for her (possibly literal) death, but never enough to win over Seteth-sensei’s classic disappointed glare.

Dorothea frowned back, her hand still clasping her aching foot. Before she could open her mouth, Ferdinand hissed through gritted teeth, “Santa Claus is watching.”

What?

Santa Claus is... watching?

Hold on a second, what on Earth had she done just now to disappoint Santa Claus? There’s nobody even at fault in this situation. Wasn’t she the one who’s even hurt here? And why was she wondering all of this nonsense and not Ferdinand bringing up that make-believe-

“You do know that he can listen to our every word and observe our every move at this very moment...” Ferdinand carefully said while lowering his finger from his mouth then took another sip of his drink, his amber eyes never leaving Dorothea’s.

Okay, Dorothea knew that Santa Claus watches over the children of the world like some creepy god to decide whether their stocking deserved to store candies or coals, she didn’t need Ferdinand to tell her that twice. That’s basic knowledge, even you wouldn’t catch an adult questioning the... questionable ways of the magical old man in red and white. Still, Ferdinand did not yet clarify her recent wrongdoing; it was starting to irritate her more than it should.

So Dorothea straightened up from her hunched posture, hands still not leaving her foot and the table, and deepened her scowl. On the back of her mind, she was somewhat impressed she managed to keep the scoff threatening to break free from her pouty mouth to herself. “And what did I do to have my name taken away from Santa’s ‘Good Girls’ list, if I may ask?”

“You just swore!” Ferdinand exclaimed with both his hands outstretched, nearly spilling his drink with a thunk at the process. When he caught his mug on time and muttered a small, ‘My bad,’ he continued rather sternly, “Surely you would know that Santa Claus does not appreciate children whose speech is littered with curses.”

Oh.

“Although you may have instinctively cursed out of inconvenience rather than insert one on your daily conversations, which I suppose is excusable, it will be wiser to still keep your language in check. Otherwise, he may not just gift you that chest box of ‘Elice’s Flavored Lip Balms’ you so desire to caress with your dainty hands for the past weeks.”

Oh.

Dorothea blinked and stared at Ferdinand. Judging by the frown (which now loosened a bit) that continued to camp on his stern expression, he didn’t look like the man to back down until his stand prevailed no matter how pointless the argument would transition into.

Was Ferdinand von Aegir seriously correcting her vulgar mouth to retain her name on the nonexistent ‘nice list’ as if the boy never outgrew the lies of the so-called Santa Claus’s miracles and all that make-believe bullshit those greedy adults crafted and tricked him into believing as a child for their personal amusement? After all, the boy carrying his unstained past was known to behave several years apart from her since highschool, emphasis on his boasting eagerness to prove his nobility among the crowd plus his one-sided petty rivalry with Edelgard.

Or was this just his way of playing dumb and teasing his girlfriend? She swore as Ferdinand scolded his girlfriend, she caught glimpse of a glint of endearment passing through his eyes that greatly contrasts his disapproving face and firm tone.

Perhaps it’s the latter. Six years of friendship would be a long enough time to memorize the other’s behavior. Like all boys, Ferdinand might have inherited his dense nature from his father, but his brain size didn’t match that of a dinosaur’s. Although he appeared death serious on the entire childish matter, people could easily pass him as a ten-year-old possessing a twenty-one-year-old man’s (hot) body.

She should feel pissed. The nerve of that boy for shutting her up on her most distressed moment. Idiot sounded like he never removed his stinking boots, let alone his pegasus-themed socks, to experience the agony of your own pinky toe threatening to rip off from your precious foot.

But why wasn’t she? Why couldn’t she snap back? Her head did not even steam one bit... and was that a wide toothy smile creeping up in her face?

While she did earn herself a boyfriend as a means to indulge in his constant love and attention her lonely six-year-old self would starve and die for, it’s these silly moments when she’ll gladly surrender to the big sister instincts taking over. All the disgusting men she testily answered to their attempt on courting the emerald-eyed songstress would always greedily invite her under their covers as soon as possible, but this grown man, who’s currently lecturing his friend just so she could earn the gift they both know well would never arrive, had been the first she found herself fondly pampering over despite the numerous naughty activities they’d nervously engaged in.

The hearty laugh that bubbled out of her mouth raced first before words could make it out first. Despite her overwhelmed emotions, she faintly heard Ferdinand stutter in confusion, “D-Dorothea?”

“Oh, Ferdie,” Dorothea purred and walked around the table to close the distance between both lovers. She raised Ferdinand’s chin with a thumb and silkily said, “I don’t need no present from Santa, you see~ Can’t you tell I’ve got all I need for Christmas right here?”

“Huh?” Ferdinand gawked up at her, not once picking up the signal of her flirty intentions. “Whatever do you mean? All the gifts we prepared for our dear friends are under the tree, isn’t it? But unless there is one hidden in here, surely the kitchen is an odd place to hide a present...”

Oh, Ferdie. So dumb and cute as ever. What a pair.

Holding back was out of the question now; she leaned down to kiss Ferdinand, who stiffened the second their lips touched. He tasted of the remains of his delicious sweet drink with a hint of bitterness mixed in. Without missing another beat, he then reciprocated without question.

Before the kiss could deepen that would lead both lovers shuffling towards the comforts of the sofa a few strides away, she licked the remains of the chocolate staining his upper lip before breaking away, a goofy grin sneaking its way into her features.

“Take a wild guess~” Dorothea winked and turned away, humming and skipping towards the countertop where the thermos stood, ready to serve more sweet sweet hot chocolate for the lovebirds. “Want some more?”

“Y-yes, please,” Ferdinand spluttered from behind, clearly flustered from the intimate gesture. How adorable. They’d lost count of the kisses they shared behind closed doors, yet it still left him awkwardly fumbling for words. If there was one wish Dorothea wanted for Santa to grant for her, it would be for the day her lover could compose himself quickly right after a kiss to never come.

Ferdinand pulled Dorothea out of her wishful thinking when he cleared his throat louder than necessary. “I appreciate your attempt on flattering me, my love. However, don’t kiss me as a distraction from lecturing you! It is my duty to help you maintain correct behavior under Santa Claus’s watchful eyes until the day of Christmas when you and I were to receive our respective gifts from Santa Claus under the tree, and...”

Dorothea sighed. This game wasn’t over for Ferdinand, was it? Oh, how she’d love to shut him up with another kiss and another and then another until he understood truly that the joy a colorfully wrapped box incite could never compare to the warm company of a loved one. For somebody, even just one person, to embrace Dorothea Arnault for who she was behind the flashy songstress title all the way to the scared and lonely child who used to bear the cruel world all by her tiny helpless self with her tiny helpless body, it’s all her she would ever ask for if she was going to be perfectly honest. She would sing for eternity how grateful she truly was, that she would still be able to spend Christmas the way she used to dream as she scraped for leftovers of yesterday’s holiday feast in the nearby trash bin and sulkily curl all on her own in the deepest depth of a snow-covered alleyway, freezing to near death as the festive world carried on.

All that was left forgotten was the pain in her pinky toe. Honestly, how could this boy not only heal her emptiness, but also her physical well-being? His magic surely matches to Santa Claus. Perhaps, she could input a rule where Mrs. Dorothea Claus may swear whenever she pleased without meeting the dire consequences of losing a gift on Christmas morning. Knowing Santa Ferdinand von Claus and his pure outlook on things, he would outright refuse.

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ddaengyoonmin · 5 years

Text

BTS Friends to lovers drabbles (Hoseok)

Drummer!Hoseok x Clarinet Player!Reader

Genre: fluffy. Light angst but mostly fluffy college!au

A/N: I’m not sure if I like this lol but hopefully you guys do!

The sound of music playing was as common to you as your own heart beating. Ever since you could remember you had loved to listen to and play music. Your clarinet was your best friend from the day you’d picked it up.

You had been in band all throughout middle school and highschool and it was where you made most of your friends.

When it came time to graduate highschool you were actually scouted by a number of music schools that wanted you to play in their band for them as first chair.

You were honored that the college you had hoped to attend accepted you in, and on a full ride scholarship.

On the first day of class at the prestigious school you attended, you were quite nervous. Sad that you were leaving behind all of your friends you had grown up with over the years.

You nervously stepped into your first music class of the day, which was made up of just the clarinet section. The teacher actually let you lead the class for the most part as you were first chair.

A few of the other men and women in the class seemed to have a sour attitude towards you. Some were juniors and seniors who had been trying to make it to first chair their whole college life, and here you were walking in on your first day talking them through warm ups and discussing how to go about the piece that you were assigned by your instructor.

But no one could deny, the minute you played, you were incredible at what you did. It was a euphoric experience listening to you play, the way you slid your fingers on the instrument so effortlessly switching from note to note. Smooth legato and short staccato played to perfection.

When that class was over it was on to practice with the whole band put together.

You got to class early and set up your music stand to the perfect height, waiting patiently for class to begin while other students filed in.

“Y/N?!” a voice sounded out from behind you.

You spun around to see a dark haired man with a giant grin on his face and drumsticks in his hands rushing over to you.

“Hobi!” you squealed and shot up out of your seat. Arms out to hug him while trying to make sure you didn’t chip the reed on the clarinet you still held in your hand.

“Oh my god, you didn’t tell me you were going here” he said pulling back from the hug and smiling widely “I’m so glad I’ve got a friend here!”

“Yeah I didn’t know you’d be here either, what an odd coincidence, it’s pretty far from home huh?” you chuckled.

“You’re tellin’ me. We might be in the same country but I think I’ve got culture shock from this place” he laughed.

Hobi was one of your favorite bandmates back in highschool, he had a reputation for being quite the player, one summer dating almost the entire flute section, including your best friend. But the two of you had always remained platonic for the most part, besides his natural way of flirting that he couldn’t seem to help, he’d never made a move on you. He’d even go to you when he was having girl troubles, and needed advice.

The band director walked in and everyone rushed to get to their seats. You waved a quick goodbye to Hoseok as he left to find his place in the back of the class with the other percussionists.

Practice went well and you got a few compliments from the band director about the parts you played. You left the class full of confidence and relief.

On your way out a hand placed itself on your shoulder, “Hey do you wanna get lunch together? I don’t have another class until 1:00 and I’m starving” Hobi spoke

You nodded with a smile, glad to have someone to hangout with here at this new place far from home.

The two of you ate at a cafe on the campus, discussing what you thought of the college life so far and the classes.

After a while this became a regular tradition of yours, months passed and it remained the same, every day after practice was lunch with Hoseok.

Until one day you told him you had to miss lunch, someone else had invited you, a guy from the saxophone section who had been eyeing you for a while and you decided to give him a chance.

You figured Hobi wouldn’t mind you canceling lunch, knowing how he was in highschool he had his fair share of dates and whatnot. You expected him to be rooting for you, saying some joke like ‘get it girl!’ And give you some advice, or something like that.

But when you texted him letting him know, his reply was a short and simple “K.”

That was odd, you’d never known him to send a text less than a full paragraph to you. You didn’t understand why he would be upset, you literally ate lunch with him every day.

Your date went just alright, the saxophone player took you to a different lunch spot than you were used to, and you found yourself missing the coffee and sandwiches from the cafe you and Hoseok always ate at. The conversation between you and him left a bit to be desired, he was awkward and shy, not that you thought there was anything wrong with that. But, it just didn’t spark anything in you.

That night after all of your classes you were on your way to your dorms when you got a text from Hobi.

‘So do you have a boyfriend now?’

You replied ‘Nah, I don’t think there will be a second date lol’

‘Good.’

Good? Why good? Most friends would say something like ‘aw I’m sorry y/n, theres more fish in the sea’ or something of the sort.

You found it a bit rude that he seemed pleased that things didn’t go well for you.

‘Whats your problem?’ you texted back

‘No problems here.’ he answered.

He was frustrating you and you decided to not reply to him for the rest of the night.

The next day was Saturday, no classes but lots of studying and practicing your clarinet to do.

Around noon you got a text from Hobi ‘Lunch?’

There it was again, another odd short text.

‘I’m a bit busy.’ you replied

‘Okay.’

You sighed, wondering why he was so upset. Was it that you missed lunch with him yesterday? He was really being childish if that was the case.

‘I’m bringing lunch to your dorm’ another text from Hoseok chimed in.

Oh. You’d never actually had him over to your dorms before. You quick tidied up a bit, clearing a spot on your small wooden table for the two of you to eat.

He knocked on the door and slowly stepped in carrying a couple bags of carryout food in his hands.

“Hey you” you greeted cheerfully

“Hi” he quietly returned.

You both sat down at the table starting to eat.

“So are you gonna tell me whats up? I know its not nothing” you scowled at him.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Then covered his face with his hands for a moment.

“I-” he shook his head “I don’t know. I’m sorry okay. I know I was being a dick.”

“It’d be a lot easier to forgive if I knew why you’re so upset” you raised an eyebrow at him.

He paused for a bit, contemplating his next words “I think I got jealous.” he said in almost a whisper.

“Jealous?” your face scrunched in confusion. “Jealous that...I’ve gotten to go on a date?” you now realize you hadn’t seen Hoseok go on any dates since getting to college. Maybe he was upset that he was off his game, and even you were going on dates when he wasn’t. That had to be what he meant.

But he shook his head. “It is about the date...but its not that I wish I’d gone on one with someone. I was jealous that I didn’t get to go on one...with you” he admitted, his face turning red with embarrassment.

“Wait...what?” you shot up out of your chair and backed up a few steps from him. “No? But you don’t think of me like that” you tried to convince yourself you must’ve misheard him. Cute Hoseok, stunningly attractive Hoseok, the man who always had girls fawning over him, who had been on more dates than he could probably remember...didn’t go for girls like you.

“Really y/n? Is it hard to believe?” He stood up and walked closer to you, almost touching your chest with his own. “I’ve always had a bit of a crush on you, even in highschool. These past few months we’ve been hanging out, I think its grown into even more than that. I was so jealous and angry that you canceled our plans to be with someone else. I don’t want you with someone else. I realize now I should’ve told you sooner. But I really…” he leaned in close, and kissed you on your cheek “Really…” kissing you on your other cheek “like you” he murmured, and wrapped a hand around you, pulling you tight against him with. His lips hovered so close to yours.

You decided to close the space between the two of you, pressing your lips onto his, softly and passionately. Trailing your hands through his hair like playing keys on your instrument. You could hear symphonies playing in your head as your lips moved against each other like perfect notes in a grand concert. Smooth legato kisses, and short staccato pecks all composing the most beautiful duet you’d ever experienced.

“Woah” you pulled back from the kiss, almost dizzy from how infatuated you’d become with him.

Hoseok smirked, “Yeah. I’ve wanted to do that for years”

“So what does this mean...are we like...together?” you stuttered out

“You mean like are you my girlfriend now?” he cocked up an eyebrow, then pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head. “If you want to.” he kissed you on your cheek “I want you to.”

You nodded shyly. Wondering why you hadn’t realized sooner how Hoseok felt. Wishing that the beautiful melody that was the two of you together had been played long ago.

“Good.” he grinned and sat back down to finish his meal.

“Hey girlfriend?” he spoke sweetly “Play a song for me will ya? I’ve always loved listening to you play”

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #jhope x reader #jhope x you #bts au #hoseok au #jhope fluff #bts drabble #bts imagine

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jay-and-dean · 5 years

Text

Je ne te mérite pas (I don’t deserve you) Chapter 5.

DeanxReader

Serie MASTERLIST

Warnings : Smut, swearing, Fluff, Smangst, Dean being jealous, drunken Dean and unprotected sex (you are smarter than this).

Future warnings : Smut, Fluff, Angst, Violence.

Words : 5k (I got carried away again sorry…)

Chapter summary : The heart has its reasons that Reason know nothing of. And Dean is experimenting this...

Serie Summary : Dean and her can’t be together.If you ask Dean, he would list so many reasons : Her age, first. Not like she was a kid anymore, but he remerbers picking her from highschool not so long ago. Then Jody, damn, the girl is like a daughter to her, what kind of friend would he be ? He’d talk about her boyfriend and how he’s the opposite of himself. Of course he would expose how poisonous he is, how dangerous it is to be around him. He’d say he want to keep her away from nightmares… And he would conclude with certainly that she just won’t ever love him, why would she ?

If you ask her, she just might whisper with a heartbreack in her voice : “I don’t deserve Dean Winchester”.What if they where wrong ?

Note : It is my first time writting in english, so, forgive the errors.

Dean's Pov

Her name is Carla and she's beautiful. I slip a hand through her hair and moan exaggeratedly, she knows what she's doing. She takes me deeper in her mouth and a sudden flash of Y/n drags me away from my own body for the third time tonight.

"Shit" I say, feeling my chest tense and my cock go slightly soft again.

"You okay Dean ?" Carla says.

"Yes, yes... I'm sorry sweetheart I've got a lot on my mind."

She stops and comes next to me, sitting on the bed. I wince and sight but my arousal fades way too easily.

"Okay Dean, what is it ?" she asks.

Carla is the only girl I never really dated with whom I slept several times. She's a beautiful, strong, independent woman. I don't know her age precisely but I'd say she's around forty. She's the bartender of the bar I like the most, less than one hour drive away from the bunker. She thinks I'm an outlaw, selling drug or robbing banks I don't know, I never contradicted her ; and she thinks I'm hot, a better lover than her kind but boring, father-of-the-year but cheating husband... So we sometimes have sex.

"Nothing" I say, getting up naked, taking a beer from the table.

"Is there a girl ?" she asks smiling, staring hungrily at me.

She's smart, and I need to talk. Carla is the only person I know that Sam and Y/n will never meet, she's my inner sanctum.

"Yes there is a girl" I sight and she sits up, an exited smile on her face.

"Dean is in love !"

"I'm not. I'm not in love, just..." I rub my eyes and take my boxers from the chair.

"No of course you're not, you just can't think of anything else even when you're getting an amazing blowjob." She looks at me, defiance in her eyes.

"It was amazing indeed" I smile back kindly.

"But you can't think of anything else..."

"I can't" I admit, defeated.

"Have sex with her" she advises. "Break the spell".

"Already have... Several times." I sight.

"You're screwed then" she laughs. "You love her."

"No... I don't. That's not how it works."

"It is" she says. "Have you ever been in love ?" she asks and I think hard.

I’m pretty sure I have... Cassie was the first girl I thought I was in love with, but I recovered from her quicker than I thought and it seems so distant now. Lisa was the woman I thought I will love all my life, but I was a mess with her, I even grew secretly angry at her for showing me I was unhappy living the life I dreamed for so long, the life that was supposed to fix everything, this one stung. Amara doesn't really count...

Fuck. She may be right, I never felt that.

"Of course" I bluff.

"Tell her" she says, taking me in her arms while I sit on the bed next to her.

"I can't. I won't."

I realize I didn't deny loving her this time and my heart falls in my stomach.

"Why ?"

"I shouldn't even think of her or look at her the way I do..."

She kisses my neck and giggles.

"Wow you sound really in love !" she teases me.

What if she is right ? What if I fall in love with Y/n, in love for real. I was sure I would be able to hold back any feelings of mine, yet I keep touching her and kissing her... That can't be. I have to forget Y/n now.

I turn around and start kissing Carla, touching her. Taking a condom from her pocket, I whisper in her ear :

"I'm gonna do what I came to do. I'm gonna fuck you sweetheart. Y/n or not"

"And yet" she pants when I slip my fingers inside her. "That's her name you're saying, and you'll keep thinking of her when inside me...".

Carla was right. She was right about everything.

I am in love with Y/n.

And I did think of her every second I spent inside Carla.

I had sex two times and drank the all bar, yet I still want Y/n, in my life, in my arms, and in my bed... Shit I don't know if I drank too much or not enough.

Now I stubble out of Baby and there is only one think I can think of : see her.

Since the last time she let me touch her, she went to Jody's for two day to help her with a hunt, declining our help because I had been "badly hurt" ; then she visited Sasha on her way back, staying only one night before coming home. For the last four days, I watch her, craving, as she acts like nothing happened between us.

I almost fall on the stairs and laugh at myself. I reach the War room and take a glass, in my current state, I decided if I still think of her it's because I'm not drunk enough...

Your Pov

So Dean's home. You hear him stubble in the War room and you hear the whiskey bottle hit the table pretty hard.

5 am.

5 fucking am.

You hate it when he's not home, when he goes out alone. You hate it because you miss him, because you are worried, and because, well, you can't stop imagining his perfect moans in the ear of a...

Don't be like that Y/n, Dean doesn't belong to you. And you don't deserve him.

You get up and go toward the noise, shivering at the contact of the tiles on your bare feet. There he is, and he looks drunk, like you never seen him. His eyes are a little unfocused and he stands leaning on the table with the hand that's not carrying a full glass of whiskey. His car keys are on the table.

"Dean ? Did you drive home ?" you say to his back.

"And of course she's here…" he mumbles harshly, sending your heart to the ground.

"Excuse me..." you say staring to turn back to join your room before he finishes you off with a word.

He turns quicker and stand before you, so tall and so handsome as always, but he seems angry, his look stern, pupils blown. You shiver and hang your head, impressed by him, angry at him for making you feel all that, afraid of him a little, because he can destroy you with a mean word.

"Why aren't you sleeping ?" he asks. "Go to bed, Y/n, it's late".

"I'm not a kid" you're own irritated tone surprises you.

He sighs and comes closer. You can smell the perfume of a woman everywhere on him, and see makeup stain on his shirt. You could puke right now.

"You should go to bed" he says like it was a threat.

"Or what ?"

Your blood is boiling and you clench your fists, for the first time in your life, you want to hurt him, to hit him, to slap Dean Winchester. You don't know what makes you furious the most, but it could be that smell on him or the mean thing he just imply when you enter the room. Why does it have to be so painful to be in love with him ? Why can't it just stop ?

He doesn't answer and it makes you even more angry. You look at his incredibly green eyes and try to find answers to questions you can't figure out.

"What do you want Y/n ?" his husky voice challenges you. "What are you trying to do ?"

"I'm not doing anything Dean..."

"Oh sweetheart you are. Sneaking beside me in the middle of the night, half naked, pushing me when I'm drunk..."

"I'm not sneaking, I'm not half naked..." you mumble suddenly feeling like a bird before an hungry lion.

"You are..." he says coming closer, running his hand along your tight, stroking the rim of your panties on your ass, under the large flannel.

"Don't touch me Dean, I don't want to get STD" you grumble.

He take a step back and look at you with what could be rage and talk through his teeth :

"Then go to bed".

You half run to your bedroom, tears filling your eyes. You hear him mumble and drink, you seat on your bed, hanging onto his every movements. When you hear him come near your room, you feel this odd mix of rage and eagerness. He knocks.

"Y/n..."

You get up and open the door, his lips instantly crashing on yours. Surprised, you take a step back, he follows you, keeping his lips on yours and closes the door behind him.

"You smell like a whore" that slips through your lips and he looks at you in the eye, coming even closer, taking you by the waist.

"She's not, she is a nice person" he dares saying, his breath smelling whiskey.

"Why are you here in that case ?" you ask with scorn.

"She's not enough..." he says kissing your neck.

You push him away.

"Do you hear yourself talking ? Dean !"

He takes you closer and bites your neck.

"It's your fault Babygirl. I thought of you all the time I was fucking her" He pants, licking and biting your throat.

You hate him for what he's saying and it's hurts like hell to think of him fucking that girl just a few hours ago, but he's saying he needs you. This time you know exactly what he desires. You're torn. Your heart feels like he could make you die any moment.

"That smell is gross... Did you at least wash ? You really think I'm..."

But you can't talk anymore because he just ripped your flannel open, bending to kiss your breasts.

"I washed a little, but... Please... Let me have you Baby." He says kissing your chest frantically. "I don't deserve it but I need it so bad..."

He nibbles at your tits moaning. You slide your hand through his soft hair and let your head fall back. He's letting go. Like you always wish he would, no restraint. His hands are scratching your sides and he falls on his knees.

"Please, I need it" he begs.

Dean Winchester, on his knees, begging you to let him take you. You begged him in your head so many times, daydreaming about kissing his neck, his hands, anything. Your head is dizzy and you close your eyes for a second, feeling him caress your ass and kiss your stomach. You can't say yes, he's drunk and he just had sex with another woman, this is wrong...

"Dean..."

He gets up and kisses you again. This time, you allow him access to your mouth and let his tongue... A idea terrifies you : Gross! You break the kiss and take his hands of off you.

"Gross... Did you ?" You can't finish your sentence because it makes you want to puke.

"I didn't go down on her" he says simply, understanding, and you want to punch him for making you hear those words.

But he kisses you again, and starts to open his belt. When he lifts you up, you wrap your legs around him. He pushes you against the door and kisses your throat moaning. His crotch dancing against yours.

"Ah fuck ! Y/n... Fuck... I need..." his voice is music to your ears, you can hear his want, you can feel his need. You loved him for so long, you never thought you'd hear those heavenly sounds.

You should ask him to stop, even really drunk he wouldn't insist, Dean is not that kind of person. You should tell him to go to bed and leave you alone because he still smells like that other woman you hate despite not knowing her. You should tell him this is so wrong.

"Dean..." is all you manage to say.

Then you feel his finger slip under you panties, exploring you, caressing you until you start to shake, you haven't come yet but you can feel you're soaking his hand. He's still nibbling at your neck.

"Do you feel what you do to me, witch ?" he presses his erection against you once more.

You moan and he bites your lower lips while your mouth is open, then you feel him push your panties to the side.

"Y/n... "

You put your hand on your pussy to prevent him from entering you, and he understands :

"Condom, Baby, I always..."

How can he say that, never using it with you. Fuck that man !

"She is everywhere on you" you almost sob between the moans he steals with kisses and caresses.

"No, you are everywhere..." he whispers in your ears as he enters you.

He's drunk. You can feel it by his smell and the imprecision of his movements, especially his hands, by the directness of his words... but this is still amazing.

He pushes inside you slow two or three times and then his thrusts become sharp, then very sharp, making you gasp.

"Touch me Y/n..." he says panting and groaning in the same time, thrusting forcefully inside you, making you see stars.

With is words you realize you aren't touching him, you are always hungry for his skin, but this time you let your arms on his shoulders.

"I need you so bad..." he is whimpering now, his hips bashing your ass against the door.

You lift one of your hand and take his cheek in it, kissing his lips like you can.

"I need you" he repeats like his life depends on you kissing him.

And without any warning, your orgasm spreads inside you brutally. This time you let out a scream, and Dean immediately puts his hand callously on your mouth to keep you from waking Sam or Jack. Your orgasm triggers his, his manly hoarse voice groaning in your ear while he's filling you up.

"I..." he talks out of breath. "I want you more".

Without leaving your body he carries you toward the bed, laying you there under him. He is softening inside you and finally withdraws, letting his cum run on your ass cheeks. Your flannel is ruined, open wide, buttons on the floor, steams ripped ; you still wear your panties. And on top of you, Dean is still fully clothed, lazily kissing your chest.

"I want you again" he mumbles dozing.

"You need to sleep Dean..." you chuckle stroking his wet hair.

"I'll sleep only right after I made you come once more" he says right before falling asleep.

________________________

Your phone lights up and you realize your legs and back are really sore. Dean is still on top of you, sound asleep, snoring slightly. The zipper of his jacket is hurting your hip and is weight is killing you. You have to move...

And yet you could suffer a little more just to keep him here with you, his beautiful head on your chest, because you know waking him up will break the spell, make him run away. Your parted thighs are so numb and you can't move them at all.

"Dean..." you whisper touching his face gently.

He stops to snore but doesn't move.

"Dean... you're crushing me"

He opens his eyes, and you can see he has a hard time putting his thoughts in place, he doesn't move for a second and finally, he grunts and gets up laboriously, rubbing his eyes.

You shut your legs in a held groan and try to move your back. He looks down and puts his dick back in his pants with a sigh.

"Sorry" he grumbles between his teeth.

He gets up, looks at you, and gives you a hand, helping you. You get mentally ready to see him disappear through the door, biting your cheek to take the pain.

But he comes closer and closes your ripped flannel. Then he takes you in his arms and you relax utterly, his hand rubbing your sore back.

"I'm sorry" he says low.

"It's okay Dean, you were just crushing me a little..."

"For all of it" he says and you feel your heart sink.

"Don't say that, Dean."

____________________________

You look at yourself in the mirror, your headphone screaming in your ears.

It's been a week and that tiny bruise you had on your lower back is fading. It was your favorite, this little bruise, witness of your last night with Dean. Drunk, dirty, but still your Dean, his hand and his mouth and him inside of you...

Your finger brush the purple and yellow mark and you sigh. Sasha is waiting for you, you're going to be late. You have to tell him tonight, that Dean is the man you love, that you live with him. This lie is a bad one, Sasha deserves to know.

He wants to have a drink ; when you come home with him, you'll tell him. You have to, you don't want him to touch you anyway. Nothing compares to Dean, there is only Dean and if he doesn't touch you again, so be it.

Dean's Pov

It's wrong, I know it's wrong. Fucked up even. Sick.

This girl is making me loose my damn mind. I can't sleep without dreaming of her, I can't have sex with another woman...

I'm in love with her.

Badly.

So I traced her phone signal, and I know where Sasha lives... I found a case there. A false case : I'm pretty sure this suicide was indeed a suicide, but I manage to convince Sammy, he trusts me, when I say there is a case, he doesn't doubt it ; the problem is that he came with me.

So here we are, sitting silent in the impala. He's staring at his phone and I'm having a stomachache with anticipation. This is wrong. Y/n never told us where Sasha lives, she's so secret about him, my plan is to fake chance while walking on the bar where Y/n seems to be. There is a risk she doesn't believe me, there is a risk Sam doesn't believe I choose this bar by chance, and then he's going to realize there is no case...

Never mind, I'll deal with all of it later. I just need to see him, talk to him. The guy she comes back to every time, the guy she says she doesn't love but who gets to have her since high school. Her first maybe. The guy they call her boyfriend. I need to see her with him. Maybe it will help me stay away, maybe she lied to me and love him. I'm so lost.

I need to see them, together. And to get over with this unwelcome love.

I park the car and my hands are shaking a little. Sam sighs, he always does when I suggest we drink a beer or two ; and I always do anyway.

I push the door open and the warm of the lightning and music doesn't comfort me. People are drinking and laughing, playing pool. I look around I try not to look for her ostensibly. Sam and I seat at the bar and then I see her...

She is facing me on her seat but haven't see us yet, there is four people at her table, a girl is sitting next to her, and I can't see the two guys facing them. She seems faraway, eyes in the bottom of her glass, no smile on her face, that stern look I haven't seen on her features for a while.

"Y/n is here, Dean !" Sam says really surprised.

"What ?" I ask, trying to figure out what to say.

"Oh, she's going to kill us" he half laugh.

At this moment she lifts her eyes and see us, her face burn red and her eyes widen. I see her lips say excuse me, and she walks toward us. I want to kiss her.

"What is it guys ?" she asks worried.

"Nothing" Sam says. "We choose this bar for no reason ! We are hunting in this town. I can't believe this..."

She looks at me with black cold eyes and I just shrug. While she asks Sam about the case, I see the guys she was with turn around, one of them seem have Indian origins, the other one seems suddenly worried and gets up.

He is very handsome... Black perfectly curled hair, tan skin, black eyes with long and thick lashes, the kind that make people look like they were wearing makeup. He is as tall as me, but looks way more muscular. He comes toward us and puts his hand possessively around Y/n's waist. She shudders silently and bites her lip.

"Is there something wrong ?" He asks looking me in the eyes. "Hunt ?" He whispers.

"No... yes." She rubs her eyes. "Sasha, this is Sam and Dean, guys, this is Sasha".

We shake hands and he keeps looking at me like he knew. Fuck maybe he knows.

"Your eyes are so green Dean, it goes perfectly with your freckles" he says and I clench my fist, ready to fight, not even knowing what he fucking means.

"Sash..." Y/n says, hanging her head.

"Don't you think Y/n ?" he asks, looking her in the eyes. "This is an incredible coincidence... How old are you ?"

I don't know what it means but Y/n seems to be uneasy and weary. Sam looks at me with a strange look. Sasha waits for an answer, but she sighs.

"Do you know how else looks exactly like that ?" He asks me.

But Y/n turns around and pushes him icily.

"Stop that now" she says.

"So I'm right" he declares. "Why did you lie to me ?"

"Go home, please" she says. "I'll join you."

"No way" he says. "Not now that I can have answers."

"Please" she begs, eyes suddenly full of tears. "Please don't..."

My heart aches seeing her like that. I want to take her in my arms. What did she tell him ? What does she fear ? All my instincts are screaming at me but I stay still. And she abruptly takes him by the arm, leading them outside.

"Do you know what is happening Dean ?" asks Sam.

"No." I answer sincerely.

Your Pov

Your heart is beating like crazy. The air is cold outside, and you feel a tear run on your cheek. You dry it with your fingers quickly.

"It is him !" Sasha says. "Look at you it makes you cry ! I've never seen you cry, and I’m your oldest friend !"

You don't know what to say so you say nothing.

"You lied to me. You told me the guys you were living with... you... you told me it wasn't him. But it is..." tears fill his eyes. "The only thing you agreed to tell me about this mysterious perfect love of yours was how green his eyes were, how cute his freckles..." he sighs. "Did you sleep with him ?"

You hang your head.

"Please don't tell him" you beg low. "It would ruin my life..."

"Just answer, I won't ruin your life, you know I love you." He says stern.

"I did..."

Before you can finish your sentence, Sasha storms inside the bar, you follow him panicked.

He walks quickly toward Dean and punches him in the face. Before Dean can hit him back you run between them and scream :

"Sasha ! PLEASE !"

Dean looks at you, at your eyes filled with burning tears and he doesn't move.

"You don't even know how precious she is..." he says to Dean, his friends joining him worried.

And he leaves.

Dean's Pov

Everything is silent, except Baby's engine. She seems asleep in the back. But I know she's faking to avoid talking to us, she wouldn't just fall asleep after that, I know her.

"We need to talk, Dean" Sam says.

"I know. Just, not now."

____________________

She went directly in her room, not saying a single word to any of us, not even answering when Jack asked her how come she was home. When I came to her door, trying to figure out how to apologize, I heard her cry.

It broke my heart.

I couldn't sleep at all. Trying to understand what happened. I knew sleeping with her was a bad idea, each time. I knew needing to see Sasha would make her furious. I didn't see that pain coming. He knows I had sex with her, he doesn't know I love her, nobody does. She told me it was how their relationship worked, so why did it surprised him so much ? He loves her, I would have gone crazy myself... Why did he talk about my eyes and shit ?

I stare at the ceiling. Then I hear her talk, calmly. I can't perceive what she says, but I guess she's talking to him. I would have called her too, hell, I wouldn't have gone without her.

This is not about you Dean. You ruined everything. A usual.

Morning comes and I hear Sam walking pass my room, then nothing. For hours. I can't move, I feel weak and craven.

When I get up, needing to pee and drink coffee, I find a note on the table.

“I won't be here today, I took Jack with me. You have to talk to her, fix whatever you did. Then we need to talk, or I will call Jody. Sam”

I crumple the paper in my hand and make a coffee, then put it in two mugs, heading for her bedroom with my heart on my stomach.

"Y/n ? Can I come in ?" I try.

"Of course..."

"I made you coffee" I say, handing her the mug.

She just came out of the shower, her hair wet and her shoulders red from the really hot water, as she likes it. Her eyes are still red from crying so much. She's wearing a tank top and jeans. She's beautiful.

"Y/n..."

"How is your face ?" she cuts me.

"I'm okay, just a bruise".

"I'm sorry." She says.

"No, Y/n, I am sorry..."

She doesn't talk so I come next to her and sit on the bed. She doesn't look at me. I want to put my hand on her, for comfort, but I think I shouldn't touch her right now.

"He knows... about… you know. ?" I dare to ask.

"Yes" she sighs.

"I shouldn't hav..."

"No it's my fault" she cuts me again. "The deal was I never lie to him. And I lied."

I don't know what to say. She looks at me and smile, a sad, beautiful smile.

"I hoped it would at least make things clear between us. But he still wants to be with me. Why is everything so complicated..." she continues.

He still wants her. That makes me internally panic. It's stupid, I'm not going to be her boyfriend anyway, I should be relieved to hear her perfect boyfriend won't leave her because of me. But I've seen him now, and it makes the idea of her kissing him even more unbearable, the rest is worst even...

"Everything is complicated" I tell her.

"No... not everything" she says and she leans to me.

I'm taken by surprise as she kisses my lips.

Why ?

I want to kiss her so bad I forget all the questions, and I allow her to kiss me deeper. She takes my face in her hands and kisses me like she liked me. Hell, if I close my eyes, I could pretend she loved me. I want to kiss her everywhere, so I do.

My hands travel from her shoulders to the back of her head, and I start tasting her neck, and her collarbones. She moans shyly. I love her voice, I love her moans, I love her so much. I can't tell her that, but I want to show her. I take her tank top off and she tries to get rid of my t-shirt so I help her. I toss her bra to the side and lay her gently on the bed. Her stomach shivers and I can see the beating of her heart making her breasts move. My hand roam her body like they had been starving, I kiss her chest and take her nipple between my lips. Her hands come to my hair and I can feel her nails scratching my scalp.

"Dean..."

My name has never felt so right. I love her, God, I love her so much. I want her to say my name again, to moan my name. I want her to feel what this boy could never make her feel...

I kiss every inch of skin I can reach, and open her jeans taking it down while kissing her thighs, her knees, her calves, this scar she told me about. Then I come back to her face and kiss her, she wraps her legs around me and takes my face in her hands again. Everything she does is beyond my dreams, we are natural, we are like dancers that have learned together. This feels like making love. This is what I do.

I go down again, taking her panties down. And I kneel on the floor, between her legs. She tries to squeeze them together, shy.

"Let me baby..." I say kissing her thighs, and taking big gentle bites.

"Dean..." she begs. "Come here, I want to feel you."

"Oh you're gonna feel me..."

And I kiss her folds. She jumps a little and squeezes her thighs against my head again. So I wrap them with my arms and kiss her again, and again... And I start to lick between her folds gently.

"Dean... Dean..." she begs, arching her back.

Every time she says my name is a victory. My tongue explore her and my cock becomes harder and harder. I didn't know I could be so hard, it hurts like a bitch. I release one of her leg to open my jeans before it explodes, and use that hand to open her to me hand I start really eating her out. With passion, like it was her mouth I was kissing, like I was saying I love you with my tongue, like my life depended on her pussy. And I feel like it is true.

"Dean, oh God..." she moans, and I look at her flushed face and neck.

She's beautiful wriggling under me, begging silently, her mouth telling prayers I can't hear, her hands grabbing the sheets with force, sweat breaking through her soft skin.

I moan against her and it makes her jump. I can feel her pussy clenching, her breath whistling slightly, she's close already.

I can't take it anymore and slip a hand on my pants, stroking myself before I go mad. I moan. My mouth close for a second, unable to focus on what I was just doing.

"Fuck, baby..." I almost cry.

And she wails, landing one of her hand on my head. I manage to keeping touching myself and eating her out in the same time. She's delicious, her arousal his soaking me and I want more and more.

"Dean, I need to... Anh !... I need to feel you inside me... please… Baby please..." she whines, almost making me come instantly.

She called me baby, I could die now. I slip a finger inside her, then another and she cries and comes.

Just like that she comes screaming my name in silence, her body shaking, her hand coming to my face, trying to push me away and keep me close in the same time.

This is way too much and I cum in my hand, panting and sweating.

I love her.

I love her so fucking much.

Feedback is soooo appreciated ;)

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester reader #smut #fluff #supernatural fic #fanfiction #dean winchester fic

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wonderlustlucas · 6 years

Text

saccharine - lee donghyuck

⇢ prompt “This is the only special part so far.” ⇢ pairing haechan x female reader ⇢ word count 2.1k ⇢ genre fluff ⇢ warnings none ⇢ summary One thing on top of another leads to one Hell of an emotional week. Luckily, the birthday boy with the sun under his skin and a passion when it comes to cinnamon buns is there to save the day.—highschool!au ⇢ a/n idrk what this is,,,,it started as one thing and ended as another BUT ITS OK cuz im so happy with this, i uwu, v cute, its kind of dramatic??and depressing??at first?? but low key relatable so UHHHHH enjoy! happy 18th birthday lee donghyuck ❥

The balance on which your patience and sanity sit on is far too close to teetering off the edge; one minuscule blow and off you will tumble, falling down into a hole of desperation and depression that only breakdowns and napping and pints of ice-cream can fix.

It’s simply an amalgamation of factors that will lead to your potential breakdown, a multitude of unlucky combinations that, in accordance with the universe, lunge upon you all at once. And while life could be much, much worse, it’s the overwhelming panic and desolation that makes it so unbearable.

The first, the least stressful but nonetheless one that has you sitting in bed at night on the brink of tears, is the reality that after a whole four years, one thousand four hundred and sixty days, high school would be over. All the set routines, all the unforgettable memories—all of it, cut off with a signed piece of paper and a handshake.

The second: your ex-boyfriend has someone new. While the breakup was months ago, a lengthy amount of time that allowed for the hopelessness and betrayal to finally diminish until you were back on your feet again, enjoying the life of not being tied down and being able to hook up with anyone you damned please, it hurts. It’s an odd sting, a wrenching in your heart that he has found someone else and you haven’t, a dull ache no matter how hard you convince yourself that you don’t care.

The third element to your disastrous undoing, one that every student faces and dreads: exams. You’re smart, undeniably smart, and that’s what makes exams all the more stressful. The honest-to-goodness want and need to do well, combined with the consequences of procrastination make for a week full of rushed studying and ‘I’ll be fine’s, followed by a two hundred question test slapped in your face at seven in the morning that only partially makes sense.

And the icing on the cake: you are premenstrual. It’s the final blow that makes your closing week of school so atrocious, one that heightens the sadness of this is it for school, the grief of a long ago broken heart, and the monstrous stress of finals. A voice in the back of your head always bitching, bubbling over in your mind that absolutely everything and everyone has to get on your nerves, topped with the undeniable horniness constantly aching in your brain and abdomen along with the wavering self-doubt, euphoria, despair, and irritability.

And even after the last day of school, the final exam, the cheering as you exit the building you’ve been a prisoner in for the past four years, the realization that it’s over, you still are in the grip of a silent panic, an unstoppable snowball fight in the pit of your stomach.

It’s an awkward time of the day once you arrive home from school for the last time, too late to make last minute plans but too early to crash no matter how much your heart calls you to.

Instead, you make a hasty decision to head back out even after you have changed into sweats, opting for a happy middle ground rather than choosing one and ending up disappointed. Off to the bakery you go, driving into the quieter part of town in impassive quietness and staring up at the baby blue sky.

It’s comforting in a strange sort of way, the soporific shade bringing a sense of luxury and serenity like warm milk and honey. However, all good things must come to an end, you realize after you park, abruptly exiting the car and slamming the door closed before making your way up onto the sidewalk.

Like a ghost in a world full of paper dolls you enter the bakery huddled between the bank and antique shop, a place where air is more delicious than any flavor and mouth-watering displays cause more regret than any drunken party ever could.

The cinnamon buns just so happen to be like your Achilles tendon; at the sight of one you’d stop dead in your tracks, the damned things are your nemesis and elixir all in one and there’s simply no denying a decadent treat like this on such a forlorn day.

Upon entering the bakery, you let out a mesmerized sigh at the beckoning aroma of fresh baked cookies and cakes and pastries and you hardly feel a hint of embarrassment when your stomach growls instantaneously. The impending hollow sadness quickly vanishes and is replaced with the sudden sense of tranquility. Finally, you think, stepping up to stand behind a young girl finishing her order, things can only get better from here.

However, just as you’re drilling optimistic thoughts into the confines of your brain, a customer with a dash too much pep in his step bursts through the door from behind you and, astoundingly, cuts in front of your spot with not even an ‘Excuse me.’

You’re flabbergasted, to say the least, sparks in your brain, desperately trying to connect the dots and instead just causing a short circuit. And suddenly you are underwater—everything is slow and warbled and you’re left unable to speak as the culprit has the audacity to move up in line and place his order as if nothing had ever happened.

And with a force like water bursting forth from a dam, brick by brick the walls come tumbling down, tears spilling down your face, struggling to breathe, you turn with a trembling chin to look toward the window, clawing for some sort of comfort in the light outdoors. However, the bustling of customers around you cannot mask the hushed sobs that shake your body, and no matter how furiously you wipe the tears from your cheeks or suck in air to calm your lungs, nothing can hide the fact that you are standing in the middle of a bakery weeping.

“Shit, that was not supposed to happen.”

The gentlest of hands grasping your own pauses your public breakdown, and for a split second, you jerk away from the tender touch until, no matter how hard it is to do so, you glance up.

“Donghyuck,” you hiccup upon recognition, “what’re you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? I should be asking you that,” Donghyuck chortles, “I went to buy you a cinnamon bun and then you started sobbing.”

Oh.

“You didn’t—you never,” you groan, “why didn’t you say hi first instead of cutting in front of me like an idiot?” You grumble, retracting your hands to messily rub away the remaining wet streaks down your cheeks, grossly heaving in oxygen and blinking out a few more tears. “I thought it would be cute and spontaneous, and then you turned to shit,” the tanned boy retorts, turning momentarily to grab the bag coasted across the counter to him before, suddenly, intertwining his fingers with yours and dragging you to a free table.

“So, why’d you go all batshit back there?” Donghyuck asks, rosy heart-shaped lips tugging up into a soft smirk even as he sits you down in the booth and takes a seat across from you. It’s dangerous, you realize; the mocking lilt to his voice paired with kindness that is more than out of place, and, of course, his overall handsomeness. From golden skin, warmer than any sunset you’ve seen, disheveled auburn hair dipping into black eyes with irises shimmering with all the stars in the night sky, cherry red lips that allow one-too-many smartassed words slip by. Lee Donghyuck is truly an enigma.

"Why’d you buy me a cinnamon bun?” You retort finally, reaching for the bag and tearing it open, eager for the delight inside. Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “Answer my question first.”

Stubborn. “I’ve had a rough week, and that was just the cherry on top,” you tell him truthfully, “also, how’d you know I was here?”

“One question at a time, tiger.” Snotty. “I didn’t follow you, you’re not that special, although I did see you walk in here with the most miserable look I may have ever seen and thought, ‘Hey, now’s a good time to rekindle what I had with the girl I’ve been crushing on since she dropped me for some fuckface baseball player sophomore year.’“

You blink once and then again, pausing your attack on the first bite of dessert to look up at Donghyuck. Candid. Processing his words, you stare at him blankly, his lips pouted into a smirk once more, “I did not drop you.”

“Babe, you definitely did.” A flirt.

“You’re the one that told all your friends I was a bitch!”

“God, ___, it was a joke. Ever heard of one of those?” Rude. “Can you just shut up and let me eat my cinnamon bun?” You grumble, peeling off a chunk, cinnamon glaze sliding under your nail.

“Technically it’s mine, but fine,” he chuckles, grinning devilishly as you pop the bit into your mouth, a hypnotized sigh escapes your lips and suddenly the golden boy isn’t so wicked. “Fine, I was a baby back then, I’ll admit it. However, if you’re trying to get me to fall for you again, this whole mocking me when I’m emotionally unstable isn’t gonna do it for you.”

Donghyuck processes your words, squinting as you go on with your feast, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning into the wooden table, “Why was this a rough week?”

“Well, let’s see,” you sigh, counting your fingers, “high school is over and university is going to be stressful, fuckface baseball player has a new girlfriend, exams made me lose brain cells, and my period is coming soon so I want to die.”

“That doesn’t sound fun,” he comments, tearing a piece of the cinnamon bun off and you glare at him. “It’s not.”

“At least you have a cinnamon bun now,” beams Donghyuck, kicking your shins under the table and you groan. Childish. Licking your fingers clean you check your phone, glancing at the time and catching the date by chance. Then, “Isn’t today your birthday?”

“You remember?” He asks and your heart lurches at the innocent cloud that passes his features. You nod slowly, returning his smile, “Happy birthday, then.” Donghyuck‘s cheeks flush the faintest shade of coral and at the heat rising upon your own you turn away, clearing your throat and munching on another piece. Angelic.

“Anyway,” you cough, “how’s your birthday been so far? Any plans?”

Donghyuck shrugs, “None yet, just dinner with my family and I’ll probably hang with the boys tomorrow. This is the only special part so far.”

“Oh,” you quip, frantically searching for a spot to look at and settling on a grey pigeon outside, pecking viciously at whatever is on the pavement, “that’s good.” Glancing back to the cinnamon bun, mouth watering at the gooey center, you force the temptation back, “You can have that.”

His eyes light up. “Really?” You nod, laughing, watching joyfully as he instantly snatches the last bit up and shoves it into his mouth. “Fuck, man, that was good, thank you,” Donghyuck rambles, wiping the frosting from his fingers and reaching for your hands.

“So,” he sighs, nestling his hands into your own and squeezing them, “in all seriousness, since we’re going to the same school and all, could we maybe... try the whole dating thing again?” Determined.

Donghyuck grimaces, a fault you never thought you would ever see cross his face, for doubt simply did not exist in his life and here it is, spread out in front of you and your response is the next move in this game of chess. “Hyuck,” you chuckle softly, gliding your thumb across his palm, “I’d be dumber than dumb if I let you get away. Of course I want to try it again.”

“Really?” He squeals, you nod and he clutches you fingers once more. “That’s a relief, I was starting to worry I royally fucked up.” Entertaining.

You laugh again, eyeing him as he slides from the booth and throws out the bag before returning before you. “You certainly did not fuck up, you just made me happy for like, the first time in a week.” You follow him out, walking by his side to your car and squinting past the blinding streaks from the sunset, mesmerized by the melanin of his skin that suddenly seems to glow in the sunlight, reaching for his arm and curling your hand around his bicep. Breathtaking.

“Well, this was good,” Donghyuck gleams, a lighthouse shining out across the sea, pausing in front of the car, “I’ll call you soon?” A gentleman. “Okay,” you sigh blissfully, “I’ll be waiting by the phone.”

He kisses you too quickly, a rushed brush of his lips and then it’s gone with the wind; you have to tug him back, pulling him flush against your form, whispering a “Happy birthday,” because God, your week just got so much better and he’s just too sweet.

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