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enchantestuff · 3 years

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cursed crown (1) - pierre gasly

in which sneaking into Pierres kingdom only means one thing

warnings: smut, royalty au so there's that, language maybe?

please please please let me know what you all think

“Are you alright?” you heard Pierre quietly call from the window above you. You had just arrived at his castle and were currently trying to climb up to the kitchen window, admittedly with no help from the prince himself.

“A little bit of help would be nice, Your Highness” you scoffed. Pierre laughed at the title you gave him but obliged nevertheless, leaning out of the window and stretching his arm downwards, waving it in front of your face teasingly. You rolled your eyes as you grabbed hold of it, “I thought I was supposed to be the mean one out of the two of us” you muttered when you finally climbed through the window and planted your feet firmly on the ground. You brushed some dirt away from your coat before finally meeting his beautiful blue eyes.

“Perhaps you're rubbing off on me, my lady,” Pierre grinned. He grabbed hold of your hand and quickly led the two of you out of the grand kitchen, carefully glancing across corridors and hiding behind walls as maids and a variety of guests walked through his pristine palace. You thought you would have been used to sneaking around his home by now, you had been doing it for months after all, but the trek from the kitchen to his bedroom was never an easy one. Even though Pierre had repeatedly confessed to you that this certain day of each month was the quietest, there still seemed to be countless people roaming the halls.

“I do quite hope you haven't acquired only my bad traits, Pierre,” you whispered, quickly glancing behind you as you ran up the stairs and into his bedroom. This was the riskiest part of your journey. The stairs that led up to his bedroom were open for anyone and everyone to see, whether it be from the inside balcony above or from the spacious hall below.

Pierre laughed at your comment, quickly shutting his bedroom door behind him and twisting his body around to face you. He placed his hands on your hips as he led you further into his bedroom. “Are you insinuating that you have any desirable qualities, my love?” he joked, his beloved silly grin quickly making its way onto his face causing your own smile to erupt on your own. These moments with Pierre were the only times you could truly be yourself and they didn't come around too often.

“Well of course, your highness” you smiled, snaking your hands up his arms to rest on his biceps. Pierre jokingly cocked an eyebrow at you, his hands trailing lower down your body, unable to keep them still for a second.

“And why is that?” he pondered, frowning slightly as you pulled away from him to take off your coat and climb onto his freshly made bed, getting comfortable in the silk sheets before peeking at him through your lashes.

“Because you crawl into bed with me every month” you teased. Your eyes trailed across his bedside table, smiling at the familiarity of it. Since the beginning of your late night rendezvous the contents of the table had never changed. There always lay a map of Othain, a journal which he had forbidden you to read and his beloved crown, the one that always lay atop of his head except during these moments with you and of course, when he was sleeping.

You carefully picked the crown up from where it lay and placed it onto your own head. It was much lighter than your own, less jewels scattered around it. It was a breath of fresh air. You didn't feel suffocated wearing it. Didn't feel weighed down by what it symbolized. “Now as your queen, i command you to come over here, for i have been deprived of your touch for far too long”

Pierre chuckled at your words, his steps towards his bed were deliberately slow. He knew how to tease you and from the glare you sent his way, he knew it was working. He crawled onto his bed, positioning himself on top of you and adjusting his crown on your head. “Well then, your majesty, I suspect that I am obliged to prove myself to you?” he jokingly questioned.

“Those are quite possibly the smartest words to leave your lips, my love” you commented. Unable to contain yourself any further, you pulled him towards you, finally connecting your lips after weeks apart from one another. Pierre didn't hesitate to kiss you back, but the short lasting kiss was not what you expected and a frown appeared on your face the minute he pulled away. “As much as I love your teasing, Pierre, I would really prefer it if you didn’t indulge in those habits right now.”

He smirked evilly as he trailed one of his hands down your thigh. “Is her majesty upset with my actions?” he pondered, his smirk not once leaving his face as he crawled further down the bed. Kisses were scattered across your thigh and the silent frustrated sigh that left your lips was a good enough answer for Pierre.

“Her majesty thinks she should get what she wants,” you selfishly spoke. You pulled lightly on Pierre's hair, a desperate attempt to get you closer to him again, to remove his lips from your thigh and place them on your own instead. Was that really too much to ask for?

“Well, I personally think she needs to stop being a brat and shut up for once in her life.” Your lips parted to scold him for his language but instead of rude comments, moans of pure delight seemed to leave your lips as Pierre attached his mouth to your core. He knew how to shut you up and for once in your life, you weren't complaining.

You tugged on his hair, pulling him closer into you as your head fell back in pleasure. Pierres crown slipped to fall beside you on the pillow but you paid it no mind as you felt pleasure pass through you like lightning bolts. “Oh Pierre,” you moaned as he lapped at your core similar to a man deprived of a meal. He couldn’t get enough of you.

Pierres fingers dug into your thighs as he moved to suck on your clit. “Shit,” you cursed as you felt the familiar knot begin to build in your stomach. After spending so much time with you and your body, Pierre believed he knew you inside out, which as a result meant he knew exactly when you were going to cum. He felt oh so evil as he brought you to your peak, only to pull away from you at the last second. The frown on your face was enough to make him feel slightly guilty. Only slightly.

“I am going to declare war on you, Pierre Gasly, '' you seethed, completely unsatisfied and now purely annoyed. You hadn’t trekked all the way to his kingdom in the middle of the night just for him to bring you towards the most amazing pleasure imaginable and leave you high and dry at the last moment.

“I'm afraid you don't have the power to do that yet, love” he grinned. He didn't give you any time to come up with a witty reply as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips before undressing himself in front of you.

“Is this your form of apologizing?” because well, it was working, there's just something about a handsome prince undressing before your very eyes that got you going.

“I was planning on making you cum over and over again, love” he spoke, stretching his arm out beside your head in order to place his crown back on your head. You looked so powerful with it on. You always looked powerful, but his own crown laying in your hair brought freshness to you that he didn't know was possible. It made his chest lighten and butterflies erupt in his stomach. It made him feel five again. “But if this is enough im happy to stop here and continue another time.”

You scoffed at him. Keeping one hand on the crown, you trailed your hand down your body, gripping onto your breast, maintaining eye contact with him as you did so, before moving further down your body. You ran your fingers up and down your folds, spreading the wetness gathered there before inserting one inside. “If you cant pleasure me, i guess i'll have to do it myself,” you muttered, knowing deep down that there was nothing Pierre hated more than you pleasuring yourself in front of him. It felt like a betrayal. Like he wasn’t enough.

Your plan succeeded spectacularly, as they always did, and in no time he was positioned on top of you, his tip teasingly brushing against your entrance. He dragged your hand away from your core and held it above your head. His grip was almost death-like and you found yourself relishing in the pain it brought.

“Don't doubt me for a second, love” Pierre grunted in your ear as he tapped his cock against your clit. You bit your lip at the sensation but allowed him to continue with his scolding. You knew there was nothing but love behind his words and so, to no surprise, you got more excited with each word that fell from his lips. “I think you know first hand the kind of pleasure I can bring you.” You gasped at the feeling of him filling you up. After nearly two weeks of not seeing each other, the sensation of him inside you was better than you had remembered. You transferred his crown onto his own head, an indication that whatever power you had over him was now practically non-existent. You were truly at his mercy.

“I'm sure you haven't forgotten the many times i've made you scream, love. I can do it again if your memory has begun to fail you.”

Pierre was always one to live up to his word. His sharp deliberate thrusts made your eyes roll back and several moans escaped your lips. You haven't been with any other man except Pierre and you would never need to. He knew your body more than you did and the delight that he brought you was extraordinary.

The squeezing of your wrist made your eyes snap open. His beautiful eyes were already watching you withering underneath him. A look of pure adoration plastered on his face as his hips continued to move at a rapid pace. “Shit, Pierre”

Pierre shook his head at you, a lopsided grin replacing his usual smirk as he leaned down to kiss your chest. “That's not what i want to hear, love.”

He was playing your own game against you, but you were too full of gratification to care. “P- please, your highness.” A blush crept up your cheeks at the seriousness of your own voice. You were no longer mocking him with his title but moaning it in pure delight.

Pierre cocked his head at you, “Please what, love? Use your words.” Tingles made its way onto your skin from kisses he scattered over your neck, goosebumps trailing in their wake. You didn't even process your words until they were out in the open.

“Fuck me like your life depends on it.”

And he did. His thrusts became unbelievably precise, his free hand roamed your body, circling and squeezing all the right places while his other intertwined with yours. You knew there would be marks left from where he had held on too hard, but you didn't see it as a mark of pain rather than an indication of what had gone on between you two. A reminder for the next long two weeks ahead of you.

The clenching of your walls for the second time that night indicated to Pierre you were close. “Hold on, love” he ushered. Something that was incredibly hard to do when he was pounding into you like an animal and circling your clit like he was under a spell.

“I - i can't,” you sobbed. You wanted so bad to release the knot in your stomach, to catch the orgasm you had been chasing all night.

“I said hold it.” He was in control, that much was clear, but you could only hold on for so long until your body couldn’t take it anymore.

“P - pierre, fuck!”

“That's it, love,” Pierre groaned in your ear, “Hold on for just another moment, such a good girl for me.” Your eyes rolled back and your gripped onto his hand for dear life. “Don't know what id do without you.” Your heart skipped a beat and tears began welling in your eyes. “Look so pretty right now, taking me like the queen you'll soon be.” Your breath increased and a whimper left your lips.

“You can let go now, love.”

Nights with Pierre were often sleepless. You had plenty of time to sleep when you were alone in your bedroom. Two nights each month you spent facing the beautiful prince, talking about utter nonsense until your cheeks hurt from smiling too hard and your eyes drooped from being awake for too long.

“Im being sent somewhere tomorrow,” you whispered into the darkness, playing with his hands as you dared to break the silence around you. You could feel him tense up next to you, obviously assuming the worst and imagining an attack his own kingdom. His own people. “Not you, “ you reassured, your heart fluttering when he immediately relaxed beside you, “Some rebels gathering together behind the mountains, I’ll have to leave early in the morning.”

It hurt you to cut your already short time with Pierre even shorter, but duty called and once your father demands your presence on a mission, you had no choice than show up.

“I hate the fact you have to go out on these stupid battles,” Pierre confided. He hadn’t taken his eyes off you all night, wanting to imprint the image of your face in his mind until the next time he saw you again.

“Well, unlike you, I have to prove myself to everyone.” It was the harsh reality of your world, one that you were reminded of at each public event you attended. You were a woman and for that reason, deemed unworthy of ruling.

“You wouldn’t have to prove yourself to anyone if you ran away with me,” he reminded. Without fail, every time you met up with Pierre, he brought up the idea of running far away to another kingdom, one where the two of you could live like commoners and not have to worry about the state of a kingdom nor dooming battles. It was a daydream that both frightened and enticed you in the best ways possible.

“You really think you can survive without all this luxury?” you pondered, your hands immediately running up and down the silk sheets on top of you as your eyes floated across the numerous jewels and paintings scattered around his room.

“With you next to me?” he asked. His hand came to rest on your jaw, moving your face closer to his own as he spoke his true desires out loud, “Of course.”

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taetaesbaebaepsae · 3 years

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Quiver (bbh)

Summary: You meet a man who seems to know nearly everything about you, save your name.

As with nearly every Baek fic I write, for @illneverrecover! Although she actually paid me for this one hahaha

Also thank you to my sister for betaing and making my gorgeous banner!

Warnings: angst, violence and death tw, unprotected sex, outdoors sex, oral sex (f. receiving), this is more soft and sad than horny tbh

Word Count: 10,219

Deja vu is something you don't feel very often, and so when it washes over you in a wave that leaves goosebumps on your flesh, you look around.

You're not sure what you're looking for, but you feel that when you find it, you'll know.

Your eyes fall on a man sitting at a table, looking down at a book. His hair is slicked back but with pieces falling into his face, and as if he knows you're staring, he looks up at you.

He has the warmest brown eyes, and something like a shock shoots through your heart. Your feet are moving before you realize it.

"Have we met before?"

He smiles, and your heart flutters.

"Maybe in another life."

His name, it turns out, is Baekhyun, and he works at some investment firm you've never heard of but it doesn't matter because he has the most endearing way of smiling at you while you're speaking to him.

You assume he has money because the car he leads you to is nice, not ridiculously so but expensive to upkeep, a foreign model that's sleek and your favorite color: red.

"Why red?" You ask, sliding into the leather seat of this stranger's car because you just know he's safe, somewhere in you.

He gives you that half smile again, the one that gives you something akin to deja vu.

"Reminds me of someone."

You wonder if you might fuck him on the first date, if coffee even counts as a first date, and it's the first time you've ever done that but when he makes you tea and you lean against his kitchen counter he gives you this look. It's like there's something dark and deep in his brown eyes, something both flirty and almost darkly lustful.

It makes your heart flip. It makes your body tingle. It makes you a little afraid.

But you've never been one to run from fear, especially when it's all wrapped up with excitement and lust.

When you're sitting on his couch and sipping tea he's swiveled his body toward you just slightly, open and inviting, but he doesn't make a move, just watches you, listens as you fill the silence, laughs when you make a face when you pick up his tea instead of yours, which is bitter and devoid of the sugar you love.

You make the first move, in fact, end up clutching at his shirt as you kiss his mouth over and over because it feels soft and his tongue is hot and it feels familiar.

His hands skate up your sides once, above your shirt, and then again, under it, and that feels familiar too, long fingers on your flesh.

"You haven't met your soulmate yet," the tarot reader said. You and a friend had visited her a few years ago, when you were half drunk at a carnival.

"At least," she'd continued, "not in this lifetime."

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" You ask, two weeks later when you've spent almost all

your free time with him, and most of it in his bed.

"Maybe in your dreams," he'd quipped, and you elbow him but he's already spooning you and you're too half asleep to do much damage.

"Always in mine," he says, softly, just as you're drifting to sleep, and you can't pry your eyes open long enough to ask what that means.

You start a fling of sorts with this mysterious man, and for the most part, you’re happy. But then you start having these dreams.

Sometimes, there’s fire on a wall in front of you and when you turn around it’s behind you, too.

You can feel your skin burning and you can barely breathe when you wake.

Sometimes there’s thunder booming all around you, lightning that streaks across the sky and you’re running and running toward someone, a man with warm brown eyes, but you can’t get there and when you look down you’re running in water up to your waist.

Always, he’s there. You suppose it’s because you and Baekhyun have been spending so much time together, that he’s in your head all the time as much as you hate to admit it.

Finally, he’s next to you in bed when you bolt upright, frightened by the thunder because it’s one of those fire dreams, one where you can feel the flesh on your arms crinkling, and it burns burns burns until it doesn’t, until you feel so cold you wake up shivering.

You’re afraid and disoriented and the dream all comes out in a rush — you tell him everything, small details about how you’re clutching a rosary in one hand, how the baubles on it popped n the flames, and he puts his arms around you, lets you bury your face in his chest as your heart rate slows down.

“Your name was Eva, then,” he murmurs, so quietly you’d think you were still dreaming.

Something about it rings true. You wonder if you’d heard that in the dream and told him still half asleep, so you nod against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes into your neck after pulling you into his lap and it’s so mournful it almost frightens you.

“You can’t help my dreams,” you say playfully, trying to forget it, and he gives you the saddest smile.

“No, not those.”

You keep having those dreams, and they get more and more detailed and sometimes your name is Eva and sometimes it’s Yui and sometimes it’s Sarabeth and they’re all different, you look different, but you always feel how it ends.

And Baekhyun is always there. He looks the same, unlike you, and sometimes he’s your enemy, sometimes he’s your friend but most of the time, he’s your lover.

The dream that finally makes you confront him goes like this.

Your name is Angelica and your father was royalty but you’re just a bastard, your mother a commoner, a servant of the crown.

Once you’re old enough to have his eyes, you have to stay hidden like some fairy tale princess. Except you’re no princess in your dusty cabin, and you learn to hunt small game so that your mother doesn’t have to steal so much from the castle. It’s good that you learn, because your mother stops coming to the cabin and you learn that the plague has taken her.

The plague has taken nearly everyone, and you haven’t seen another person in months when you happen upon a man.

You have your bow drawn before he ever sees you, the string (made of rabbit sinew because it’s all you had, the bow made of oak that you’d chopped yourself) and arrow pointed straight and true.

He shifts, turns around and you hesitate just a moment when you catch his gaze, something familiar in his deep brown eyes. It’s long enough for him to draw his own bow, and he’s quick, quicker than you are, so you let your arrow fly.

His arrow flies a second after yours and they meet in the space between you, shredding each other in two.

You’d thought, then, that it was an omen.

Good or bad, you didn’t know.

You’d run back to the cabin and locked yourself in, but he’d followed you.

A few hours later, he knocked on the door and your heart started to race. Your mother had warned you what men could do to an unattended woman.

There was nothing else, though, and you waited half an hour to open the door.

A basket is sitting on the doorstep, and it contains dried meat and fresh cherries and peaches.

You hadn’t had fruit in years. There’s also a small bouquet of flowers, filled with dandelion fluff and baby’s breath, a few blossoms of lavender. It smells lovely.

You take your time eating the peaches, they have the sweetest juice that you let run down your chin like a child.

It’s been so long since you’ve eaten well that you overdo it and your stomach feels tied in a knot, but you’re smiling when you fall asleep that night, for what feels like the first time.

There’s another basket at the end of the week but he’s standing on the doorstep with it, smiling.

“Maiden, I was wondering if you had any water?”

“Will you draw your bow again when I turn my back?” You ask, wary, and he shakes his head, laughing softly.

“You drew yours first, maiden. I was surprised. The plague has taken so many it seems like I’m the only one left in all the world.”

He doesn’t look intimidating, doesn’t look as if he’s about to rush you, but you’ll be damned if you’ll let a strange man into your home, so you sit on the doorstep with him and eat the peaches he’d brought.

He watches the juice drip down your fingers, how you lick it off, with something in his eyes you haven’t seen before.

You sit and chat for a while, still wary, but he keeps looking at you like that, and you wonder if this is what it feels like, if this is what is to be wanted.

Three days and three dinners of peaches and dried meat later, you let him inside for a glass of water drawn from the well out back.

He drinks it down like he’s been thirsty for days, and you feel guilty for not letting him in earlier.

The way he licks his lips when he’s done makes something flutter inside your stomach and you put a hand there, low, almost on your pubic bone.

He watches every move you make, this mystery man who doesn’t have a hint of facial hair despite living in the woods, watches where you place your hands and fingers, how you move your mouth. He watches you as if you’re something fascinating, like watching fire burn wood down to embers.

When you were young, your mother took you to the Maypole festival, and all the children had been given these long sticks to dip in the fire, to twirl them around and make shapes in the night sky. You’d done it over and over until the stick was burned down too far and even then, you tried to dip it and burned your wrist.

He looks at you like you’d looked at the shapes you’d made with the lit stick. With wonder.

The first time he touches you it feels like the first time you’d felt warm water on your skin as a child, warmed on the fire with an iron pot, your mother spooning it over you slowly.

He touches you that way, slowly, murmuring bits of your name and it slides off his tongue like honey.

“Angelica. Angel,” he murmurs, right at the shell of your ear, and your bones seem to turn to jelly as you melt into him, your back against his chest.

Your mother had told you that one day you’d have a lover.

“Not a king,” she’d said, “but something more.”

You’d asked her what’s more than a king and she’d only smiled, held a finger to her lips as if the two of you shared a secret.

You did, your secret was that you existed, that your father was who he was and that your mother wasn’t his queen, at least not in name.

You tremble underneath his hands and when he turns you around, presses his mouth to yours, he does it slowly. You’re the one who grabs the back of his head, threads your fingers through the long hair at the nape of his neck, wanting him closer, so close, wanting to burrow inside him and live there because you’re aching for him all over and you don’t know what it means.

“Let me call you by your name,” you plead when he’s kneeling before you, pulling down your underclothes, spreading the curls at your core where you’re hot and aching and wet.

He shakes his head. “I have too many names.”

“Tell me one of them,” you beg.

He doesn’t answer, presses his mouth to your cunt and you gasp, tugging his hair hard and he makes a low groan, throat exposed, that makes something come awake in your lower stomach, something somehow both like fire and honey, hot and slow and sweet.

“Give me your name,” you demand.

One corner of his mouth turns up.

“My name is Love,” he tells you, and presses his face back into your cunt, inhales like he loves the scent of you, his hands spreading apart your thighs so roughly that you brace your hands on the table behind you.

It isn’t a name you’d heard any man to have, but maybe he isn’t a man, maybe he’s one of the fae your Irish born mother told you stories about when you were a girl.

Maybe that’s the something more your mother told you about your future lover after reading your palm when you were sixteen.

You hunt together, and you’re in awe of how quick he is with his bow, how he shoots straight through the heart of even the smallest animals, voles and rabbits that you roast over the fire and feast on while he tells you wild tales about his brothers and sisters.

One rules the sea, he tells you, with a magic trident. One makes lightning bolts for his father deep underground where there’s fire so hot it melts rock and stone.

You’re fascinated, sit for hours just watching his mouth as he speaks and sometimes you vault into his lap mid sentence, silence him with your mouth on his because you want want want.

Your mother had told you many things about your future lover, about how you should be demure just like a man wants, but you can’t even try, not with him. Not with your mysterious, many named, no named lover, because he presses your nails deep into his chest when you straddle his hips, hisses when you leave bite marks along his throat and collarbone.

You pretend to be demure sometimes, if only to make him frown, to make him throw you down on your bedclothes roughly, to bite your lip bloody.

“Don’t pretend you don’t have talons, angel,” he growled, and you can’t help the way you laugh loud and open, even with your legs spread wantonly.

Physical love isn’t at all like your mother had described it, and you wonder if she’d only ever been with the king, with a man who cared so little for his paramours that he’d allowed your mother to die alone in the slums, locking her out from the castle so that his heirs might live.

It isn’t something that you lie down and take the way your mother must have, sometimes it’s animalistic, feral like you’d seen horses mate at the castle’s stables when you were young.

You present yourself on all fours and he slides his hands down your ass, grabs the flesh there to part you, presses his face into your cunt until your thighs are shaking. It’s not love that you feel during those times, not exactly, more like that want want want that you feel so often with him.

Your breath catches when he pulls your hair, wraps it around his fist so that your back arches, so that you twist to look at him. Later, when you’re both sweaty and sated, that’s when the love comes, loud and blooming in your chest as he kisses the fingerprint bruises he’s left on your hips, his fingers gentle on your sensitive skin until your breath slows.

Love is a thing that blooms, you would write if you’d ever been taught how. Love is my man’s name and it’s blooming in me like spring flowers.

You go for walks to gather berries because you’re too busy fucking to hunt and you can get by on a few more fruits and you don’t want to wake him. Once you’d brought home rose petals for tea and a piece of a honey comb that had made his eyes light up.

He’d spread the honey across your nipples, suckled and nipped there until you were sore, and one day, you want that again, especially the way his brown eyes sparkled when he’d seen it.

You have a way with the bees, after all, a way of singing high and sweet that makes them buzz around you slowly instead of angrily.

You’re halfway down the path before you realize you’ve left your quiver and bow. Love (both the man and the feeling) makes you feel stupid, heady and slow, and you pause for a moment, wondering if you should turn back.

Instead, you head forward because it’ll be sunset soon and you won’t be able to find that tree, the one with the beehive and honeycomb that your man loves so much.

It happens so quickly it feels like an instant. You step out from the bushes after gathering some blackberries, so juicy they’ve stained your fingers, and the next thing you know, you’re on the ground. When you try to stand, you can’t, a pain blooming (a lot like love) through your stomach and you’re sure there weren’t any raspberries so what’s this red spreading out onto the ground?

You see your man’s boots, barely laced, before you see his face and someone behind you is stuttering but you hear the swish of your lover’s arrow, a choked, gurgling sound and then he’s knelt down at your side.

“Angel, angel,” he whispers, and he’s crying and you want to tell him not to because it makes you afraid.

What’s happened? What’s wrong?

You don’t realize you’re not actually speaking until he cradles your face, lies down in the dirt to face you, and everything but his touch, his eyes, seems far away and unimportant.

“I’m sorry,” he says brokenly. “I need you to remember. When next we meet, remember my name.”

You want to. You want to remember everything about him but you’re sure that you’re floating away now.

“Baekhyun,” he tells you. “My name will be Baekhyun.”

As an immortal, it's hard to remember every moment. Years and decades blur together. The only moments Baekhyun can call to mind in perfect recall are the first times he's seen you

For a while, he’d thought Rome might be the worst lifetime he’d ever have.

He knows what he’s supposed to do, knows it’s his job, but he can barely ever bring himself to do it.

In Rome, you’re excited, young, bouncing around with your hair braided. Fire red, always red, always as fiery as your personality. “Eros, right? God of love.”

He’d smiled, wondering if he looked as tired as he felt. “You think I’m a god? I’m flattered.”

You scoff, swirl your dress around as you turn, speaking with your hands as always and his heart aches with how familiar it all is. “Don’t think that means you’re special.”

Baekhyun cocks an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes. Means that you’re here to help me fall in love.”

“Is that so?” He can’t stop smiling at you, despite knowing what will inevitably happen next.

“Mmhm.” You’d taken his hand, flipped your braid over to the other side of your shoulder. He always tries. He always tries, gods damn it, damn his father and his brothers and sisters, he tries.

But there’s always this moment, where you take his hand, or brush your knuckles against his lips just so, or you just look at him up under your lashes, and the arrow he’s supposed to be aiming feels like it goes straight through his heart.

“I have someone in mind.”

It’s like the arrow in his heart twists, and gods know his arrows have always been true and fatal.

Your smile is so bright, and his heart is so full but it hurts at the same time and what a curse this is, to be able to fall in love with you so easily but have you fall for someone else just as fast.

He tells himself that he won’t try to change your mind, that he won’t let himself get close to you as you go on this search for your true mate.

You’d been childhood sweethearts, you and your match, but he’s been called away to war and you’ve been in mourning ever since.

He’s a god, but he is the god of love, after all, and with all your heart you believed that you loved another. He tells himself he’s doing the right thing… for the third time.

The first time, when it had all started, he’d fallen in love with you and seduced you and you’d forgotten all about your true match and it had all ended in fire and blood.

In Rome, in your third lifetime, he tells himself he won’t let that happen again. So when you put your hand on his thigh when you crouch down to drink on your journey, he wills his skin not to heat and his heart not to skip.

Three weeks in and you’re exhausted, your feet are swollen and bleeding from all the walking and you slide into his furs instead of your own, press your face against his chest.

“Maybe he’s gone,” you say, quietly, and Baekhyun is as still as death, telling himself he doesn’t want to lean down to kiss you, to tell you that it doesn’t matter where your sweetheart is because he’s here and ready and he wants you more than anything.

“We’ll find him,” he promises, and it’s a promise he keeps, even when you press your mouth to his and he takes it, this small comfort, until you fall into a fitful sleep.

Greece was bittersweet, because you found your match in the end and Baekhyun shot his arrow hoping that he’d miss. But his arrow was true, shot straight into the heart of your paramore.

You found your true match, fell in love, had children, and Baekhyun could have gone. Could have sailed away at sea, gone anywhere in the world. But even in Greece he’d spent three lifetimes with you (in one way or another) and he can’t bring himself to be more than a few miles away from you.

Instead, he’d watch you playing with your daughter in the garden, watch you kiss your husband, laughing into his mouth when he picked you up.

He watched you grow old, have grandchildren, plant roses that still never bloomed. You were never a gardener, no matter how you tried. It’s odd, how happy he feels for you, and how his heart clenches in his chest, how hard he wishes it were him.

He would never grow old, and he would never have you more than a few fleeting weeks, months, once even two wonderful years. Eros is love, and love isn’t supposed to fall in love.

So when he did, all those years ago, his father cursed him to find your match, over and over and over. It was you then and it’s you in Greece and Rome and England and Portugal and a thousand other countries that didn’t even have names when he’d met you there.

He’d thought Greece would be the worst because of the longing, because of the jealousy that brewed vile in the back of his throat, but Rome was much worse.

The Church ruled everything and at first Baekhyun thought that was normal. After all, when he was young he and his family had ruled everything. These are just different gods, although perhaps harsher ones.

They called you a harlot because of the fire red of your hair, the way you wore dresses slit up to your hip, the way you'd laugh if someone asked the last time you'd gone to confession.

"You should go to Mass," he'd warned with a lock of that fire red hair slipping through his fingers.

You'd smiled at him. "Why's that, lover? You want to hear my confession?"

He tugs your hair, exposing your throat as you let out a raspy moan, grinding against his thigh.

"What have you to confess, stellina?”

(Of all the languages and all the pet names he'd called you, stellina is his favorite, translates to star, and you burn so bright and beautiful it breaks his heart.)

"Impure thoughts," you muse. "Fornication before marriage.”

You pause. "This might take some time, amore."

You slide down under the linen, leaving open mouthed kisses and nips on his hip bones and thighs, and he forgets what he was going to warn you about.

(He loves any term you call him, in Spain mi corazon, in England love, in German liebling. But his true favorite is when you learn his name, his true name.)

You die fighting, that lifetime, clawing at the priests who’ve decided a witch needs baptism, holding you under the water until you finally stop, your nails broken and bloody.

Baekhyun finds you there, hours too late because he’d been sleeping off the night before, when he’d warned you about Mass, when you’d both stayed up all night, love talk and making love and a good deal of fucking, too, and he hates himself.

Hates that even though he is what he is, he needs sleep and food and water. He hates himself when he lifts you up, your fire red hair darkened by the water, hates himself when he kisses your bloody nails one by one and buries you behind the garden where you used to plant roses that never bloomed.

He hates himself most because it never gets easier, seeing you die, never gets easier knowing that he can’t, that he’s cursed to do this over and over.

In 1402, in Malaysia, you’d just had two streaks of red locks in the front, tendrils that stuck to the sides of your face when you were sweating, and you’re sweating when he first sees you, although you hit him before he ever sees your face.

You’d dropped down from a tree branch, locked your arms around his neck and cut off his airflow. It isn’t as if you could have killed him, but he respects it, all the same. You’ve got this little knife and you slice his throat but it doesn’t bleed, closes up as you watch and you drop to your knees, wide eyed but still, not submitting. Even when you know he’s a god, you never submit. At least, not that way.

Later, he kisses all the scars on your forearms and wrists, defensive wounds from battles and scuffles with the male soldiers who’d found you out.

"I never let them break me," you'd said, proudly, but there's something behind your eyes that makes him want to slaughter all the male soldiers in their sleep, bring you their heads, a sacrifice like the old gods had demanded.

As he had once demanded, before he met a human girl with an immortal soul full of fire and was punished for worshipping her.

Now it's 2021 and he's been through so many years, and he's tired. He's changed his name, over and over, from Eros to Cupid to then more common names.

He's been Baekhyun the last four lifetimes because you seem to like it, it makes you giggle in 1924 when your red (always red, red like fire and blood and love and all things that are important to him) hair was bobbed and you were wearing a black sequined dress at a speakeasy.

"Baek," you'd laughed, tipsy, one hand on his arm and he couldn't stop smiling at you. "Almost like Bark, like a dog."

"I'll be whatever you want me to be," he'd answered, flirting but also honest. He'd always been whatever you wanted because he got so few years with you, each time.

"You'd be my dog?" Your eyes sparkled with booze and excitement.

He nodded. "Follow you around like a puppy."

When you'd given him an incredulous smile, he'd opened his mouth in the middle of a packed speakeasy in New York City and barked like a dog.

The way you'd laughed is something he can hear in his dreams years later, tries to make it the memory he remembers most instead of the ones where you'd died screaming.

Now, there are no more gods who want you for sacrifice, all of his kind who were vengeful had gone silent, moved on or passed on, including his father who'd cursed him in the first place.

He's hoping, every lifetime, that this is where it ends. He's hoping that this time he doesn't have to tell you.

He's wrong, just like he had been in 1425 and 1604 and 1976. The curse outs itself, as curses always do.

You sit up in bed, watching him sleep and shivering, for what seems like hours after that dream.

He wakes slowly, but scrambles up into a seated position as soon as he’s fully conscious, being careful not to touch you.

“Do you remember?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You mumble, even if you have a feeling you do.

“At some point, you always remember.”

“What are you talking about? Why are you so goddamn cryptic?” Your voice is hoarse and loud.

He nods, as if expecting your outburst.

“Sometimes you’re not ready to hear.”

You want to scream in frustration. “Hear what?”

“What I am. What we are.”

“And what are we?”

“Immortals.”

You gawk at him. He makes it sound so simple, like he’s talking to a child.

“You’re an immortal?”

“You, too.” He pauses. “Well, in a different way.”

“So what, you’re telling me that was real? My dream? Angelica?”

Baekhyun lets out a long breath, shifts on the bed to face you.

“You were Eva. Angelica. Yui. In Greece I called you stellina. You’ve had more names than I have.”

You look up into his eyes and if he’s lying, he deserves an Academy award for the performance.

“What… what are you?”

You aren’t sure if you’re frightened or intrigued or both.

Baekhyun smiles then, wryly.

“Eros. Cupid. Angelica simply called me Love.”

“You’re telling me you’re like... the god of love? The one with the arrows?”

He looks as if he wants to laugh at you but wisely, he doesn’t. Instead he nods.

“Is it… is it always like it was when… when I was Angelica?” You ask, breathing in deeply because you remembered the pain in your chest, the way the blood spread out on the dirt in your lucid dream.

“Almost always,” he says softly, and reaches out to put his hands on yours.

You would have thought you would have flinched away but instead, his touch seems to comfort you and you lean into him.

“What happens when I don’t?” You ask, curiously, and something shutters over his eyes.

“You’re happy.” He rubs your knuckles between his fingers.

It’s a lot to take in and you have a million more questions but also, you can’t think of a single one that you can put into words. You pace around the bedroom and when that’s not enough, your entire apartment, and then outside to the elevator and back and he stays put, sitting cross legged in bed and looking at you with those deep brown eyes.

Finally, you plop down on the edge of the bed, exhausted.

“So what do we do?”

He just looks at you, again with that bemused smile playing at the edge of his mouth.

“How do we fix it?” You demand.

Instead of responding, he takes your hands in his again, brushes his lips across your knuckles but this time you do recoil.

“I’m not going to die horribly again. You can’t want that.”

“Of course I don’t,” he murmurs, and you want a reaction, something other than the way he’s just looking at you so you shove him and he just lets you, falls back on the bed when you do it a second time.

“You just keep letting me die?” You accuse, crawling up onto the bed and he makes a growl in the back of his throat, grasps your wrists with one of his hands and pins you when you try to shove him again.

“I never let you die. I try over and over and over to save you, but I can’t. The only way I can save you is by finding-”

He looks away from you, shuts his mouth with a click of his teeth and you wriggle under him.

“Finding what?” You insist.

He lets you go, rolls over and puts his forearm over his eyes.

“Your true match. In all the lifetimes that you’ve lived to old age in, I shot my arrow to find your true match.”

You deflate, lying there next to him and staring up at the ceiling.

“So you’re saying in order to live like a normal person, I have to fall in love with someone else?”

“Yes,” he says miserably. After a few moments, he lifts his arm and opens one eye to look at you. “Got anyone in mind?”

You shove at his arm, but not as hard this time, and he breaks into a smile, takes you into his arms. You melt against him, just like before, because that’s what feels right, that’s what feels natural.

“That happened? Before?” You ask, stroking his hair and usually he preens at the attention, leans back to kiss you but now he buries his face in your hair, avoiding your gaze.

He murmurs something in affirmation and kisses just under your earlobe.

“You found someone else for me?”

He nods, still not lifting his head, and you huff out a breath, wanting some kind of reaction out of him.

“Was he hot?”

Baekhyun groans and laughs, rolls over onto his back. ‘You always do this.”

“Always do what?” You demand, poking at his side. “You know all these things about me...or well, some version of me, and I don’t know anything about you.”

He looks at you, smiling just a little. “You know everything about me.”

You huff, frustrated. “It doesn’t feel like it. I want to know more. I want to know how I died, why I died, what all this means.”

To his credit, Baekhyun tries to explain it to you. The curse, his family, but it’s all twisted up in your mind with these memories you have of him in past lives, of being so in love with him you can barely breathe, wanting him so badly you can barely sit still, and it ends with you tearing off his clothes and him laughing into your mouth as you guide him inside you.

After, you’re contrite, kissing along his collarbone.

“I don’t want you to find anyone else for me.”

Baekhyun makes a sound in the back of his throat and you don’t know if it’s surprise or something else.

“I don’t want anyone but you,” you continue, orgasm drunk and with this fire burning under your skin, remembering how Angelica felt, how Yui felt, moving closer to him on the bed because you can’t bear to have your skin not touching his in every place you can.

He pulls you on top of him, kissing you after you squeal in surprise and your lips feel swollen and bruised already but it’s the sweetest ache.

“I don’t think I could, even if you asked,” he admits, and something about the way he says it makes you proud, makes your heart swell. His hands skate over your upper arms and his touch gives you goosebumps.

“No?” You shift to spread your thighs, liking the way he hardens under you with just the barest movement.

Baekhyun shakes his head, his tongue coming out slowly to lick his lips. You see that you’ve bitten his bottom lip bloody and it sends a shot of heat through you.

“Usually I never found anyone else for you, not after I’d touched you. I started out meaning to find someone for you. Touching you first… having you first… it makes things complicated.”

You don’t speak but shift again and it seems to spur him on.

His face is flushed and it’s cute, makes you smile.

“You know why.”

“Do I?” You’re grinning now, like the cat that ate the canary, and he groans but he’s smiling.

He sits up suddenly, bracing himself against the headboard and he puts his hands on your hips to move you backwards so that his half hard erection sits right at the cleft of your cunt and when you gasp and try to guide him inside you, he tightens his hands with a slight shake of his head.

“You gonna make me say it?”

“You know I am.”

You gasp when he puts pressure on your clit with his thumb, humming in the back of his throat.

“I’ve loved you for centuries, and I’ll love you for centuries more, stellina.”

“What does that mean?” You gasp, your insides on fire with lust and love and full to bursting, rocking your hips forward and he gives you what you want, puts more pressure on your clit and lets you guide his cock inside you.

“Star,” he says softly, moving a hand up to cup your cheek. “Because you burn.”

You do burn, you burn inside and out and you want to tell him that you burn for him but he sticks his thumb in your mouth, presses down on your tongue just how you like and all you can do is moan around it.

He keeps his other thumb positioned just right so that you can rock against his hand and lift your ass so that his cock slides against your g-spot and you suck on his thumb until he hisses and bucks beneath you, moving so that you can lean down and kiss him hard, brace your hands on either side of him so that you can get more traction.

You’re sure that you’ll be sore in the morning, ever since you’ve met him (in this lifetime, at least) you’ve been in some type of bittersweet pain, an ache across your throat, soreness in your thighs and hips and ass where you’ve been riding him, a rawness deep inside from too much sex and not enough rest.

There’s never enough, never enough of your sweat misted skin sliding across his, never enough of his hand fisted in your hair, of his cock at the back of your throat, of his fingers hooked inside you. The past couple of weeks you’ve only left his apartment for work and a few changes of clothes (not that you wore them much, anyway).

It makes you feel more sane, knowing that you’ve wanted him this way in other lifetimes, makes you feel like the way you feel makes more sense, because you were beginning to think you were going crazy.

It isn’t as if he’s some kind of sex god, exactly, he just seems to know exactly what you like, exactly what you want, right away. That makes a kind of sense, now, how even when you’re on top he knows exactly what to do and say to get you to tip over the edge.

“I love the way you look like this,” he rasps, looking up at you as if maybe you are a star exploding and it isn’t just some nickname he gave you in Rome. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You cry out his name, throwing your head back when you cum and he palms his hands across your breasts and the stimulation across your nipples sends an aftershock through you right after. You’re like a ragdoll for a few moments after your orgasm and he shifts you around just like one, using you to get off and you kiss and kiss and kiss him, loving the way it feels when he spills inside you.

You say it then, maybe because he said it to you first or maybe just because your heart is full to bursting with it.

“I love you.” It’s almost defiant. “I love you, and I don’t want to love anyone else.”

He strokes your cheek where you’re still lying on top of him.

“I don’t know if we get a choice, stellina.”

There’s always questions when you find out, and Baekhyun is prepared for them. There’s often questions that hurt, somewhere deep in his bones, questions you’d asked over and over again.

Sometimes you’re curious about your other perfect matches, and that stings. Sometimes you want to know about your deaths, and those are hard memories to bring to the surface.

The question that always hurts the most, though, is the one you ask after you’ve both showered, lying sated and exhausted in his bed, the curtains blacking out the sun outside.

“Did we ever have children?”

You’re rubbing your stomach and there’s something caught in his throat and he has to cough to clear it.

“We didn’t. You did. Sometimes.”

You look up at him and frown. “With my true match?”

Baekhyun heaves a sigh so deep it hurts his chest. “With him, yes.”

You pause. “Was it the same guy? Same… soul, I guess?”

Baekhyun nods slowly, his heart sinking, but you don’t ask anything more, you just lie your head on his shoulder.

He wonders what you’re thinking, wonders where it branches off from here. He’s been here so many times before. He feels more tired than he should.

But instead of asking more questions or storming out crying or any of the things you’d done after you’d found out, you start to snore softly, curled up next to him.

Baekhyun wonders idly if he’ll be able to sleep, but he’s drifting off before he’s even completed the thought.

When he wakes, you’re gone, and he scrambles out of bed in his boxers to pace around the house. He can feel you aren’t around and it’s like a hole in his chest. It’s always been that way, he knows when you’re close and when you’re not, and you must be miles away because now, there’s nothing.

When he checks his phone you’ve texted that you’ll be back with food. He’s shocked that it’s nearly noon, it hadn’t even been sunset when he’d dozed off.

Perhaps immortals can be just as bone tired as mortals, sometimes. After a dozen lifetimes of fighting, he doesn’t know why he’s surprised.

He waits for you, sitting on the couch and idly flipping through the channels, and he thinks about when it all ends. His father had moved on, had no one worshipping his name anymore, and it isn’t as if school children are learning much about Eros, Cupid relegated to only one day out of a year with awful sour sweet candy and paper mache hearts. He’s stored his bow a few hundred miles away, hoping that this lifetime he wouldn’t need it, hadn’t actually found a true match for anyone but you in centuries.

Baekhyun wonders, with no real sense of urgency or fear, if this is the last lifetime. There’s a kind of exhaustion he’s never felt before that seems to weigh him down, and he’s finding it hard to care about anything but you. He hopes it happens before you pass, before the curse ends your life too young and too violently. He wants to move on and set you free, because he knows he can’t resist you for more than a couple of lifetimes. He’s tried too many times and failed.

You return bright eyed and with half a dozen books and a notebook, a pen pinched between your teeth.

At your urging he goes out to the car and brings in the breakfast you’d bought and you spread your books across the table.

“Greek and Roman Mythology for Dummies.” He reads aloud, laughing, and you look up at him from the floor and frown.

“Don’t judge me, this is all new to me.”

He holds up his hands. “Not judging. What’s all this for?”

“I’m going to find a way to end the curse, of course.”

Baekhyun sits down hard on the couch. “Oh.”

“What does that mean?” You demand, your nose scrunching up just a little.

He can’t help but smile at you, and he shrugs.

No reason to shoot down your hopes. Not yet, at least.

Four hours later, your eyes red rimmed from staring at books and your laptop screen, you jump onto the couch and into his lap.

“I found it!” You screech, and kiss all over his face.

Baekhyun smiles, kisses you back, and you make love there on the couch. You want to be bent over, his hand on the small of your back to keep you over the couch arm, up on your tiptoes and making a little grunting noise every time he thrusts into you.

Baekhyun may be exhausted after all this time but he never gets tired of this. He never gets tired of you.

Your moans are muffled in the couch cushions but he hears his name, the one he always uses with you, ever since you were Angelica and that hunter’s arrow had pinned you to the ground.

Baekhyun is tired. He’s tired in a way he’s sure no human ever could be. He’s tired of all the times he’s lost you, to your true match and then worse, to death, and he’s tired of living them over and over again.

But when you stand up, twist his face to kiss him, your eyes bright when you grin against his mouth, he thinks that it’s all been worth it.

You’re always worth it, and the thought of getting to meet you again, another you, is all it takes for him to keep going.

It takes a few months to get the time off work, match up travel plans, and get supplies.

Supplies meaning mostly travel gear and light clothes and a passport, the place you need to get to is high up on a cliffside in Northern Greece.

Baekhyun’s supportive enough, you guess, but you feel a bit nervous about his lack of excitement when you’re finally there, in Greece, at a gorgeous resort near the cliffside. Money hadn’t been a problem. Apparently when you’re immortal you manage to accrue a bit of savings.

“Aren’t you happy? Doesn’t this feel like home?”

Baekhyun laughs, loud and open, for what seems like the first time since you’d found out.

“This isn’t my home, stellina. I’m older than Greece.’

You blink, shocked. “But you are Eros.”

He nods. “I’m Eros, and Cupid, and Ishtar, and Kuni. Many gods and goddesses, different names. My duty and purpose was always the same, but I’ve never had a home. Except with you.”

He brushes your cheek with his nose and you sigh, hate that the way he says that so simply, as if it’s the whole truth, makes your heart clench.

“Still, you remember being here.”

Baekyun nods, staring out at the sea, reliving some life you only half remember.

You don’t ask many more questions, at least not until the next day when Baekhyun is listlessly pulling on his clothes and you’re tugging at his hands, excited, wanting to hurry and have this curse looming over your head end, so that you can stop thinking about it.

“Why aren’t you happier about this?” You pout, but you quiet when he looks up at you, his usually warm brown eyes dull and exhausted.

“You haven’t been sleeping?” You ask, softer now.

Baekhyun shrugs. “Some.”

Then he grins at you and there’s a flicker of life in his eyes. “I’m a very old man, you know. I need my rest.”

It makes you laugh, makes you forget, and you don’t think of it again until you’re hiking up the trail, about an hour’s long journey to reach the top.

He’s behind you by a few hundred feet and you frown at him, waiting until he reaches you. You’ve never seen him out of breath.

You take his hand, tug him further up the trail but it’s only a few moments before he stops, bracing himself on a tree near the trail.

“Stop,” he wheezes, and you do, tilting your head at him in confusion.

“Baekhyun, we have to-”

“Just stop,” He insists, and you’d think he was angry if his voice weren’t shaking.

“Why? What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?” You fire off at him, moving closer, and he shakes his head.

You take his chin in your hand and force him to look at you.

His brown eyes are still as tired as earlier, and wet now, too.

“I don’t want to do this again,” he manages hoarsely.

You take a step back. “Have we done this before? Have we been here before?”

Baekhyun doesn’t answer, but there’s a truth in his silence.

Your eyes begin to well with tears. “So what? Maybe this time it’ll work, maybe this is different-”

“It’s not different. In France you were called Jacqueline and we came here. You read books about it, forced me here just like you did this time. You were so certain it had worked.”

You shake your head but he keeps talking.

“You were so certain that after a couple of months, I was certain too. Three months later, there was a bus accident.” His voice breaks and he’s quiet again and you feel like you can’t breathe properly for the ache in your throat.

“We don’t know that will happen again.”

“I know!” He bursts out. “I know it will happen because it does, over and over again! Listen, we should go back to the hotel. I can get my bow out of storage and-”

“No!” You cry, stalking over to him. “No, that’s not the way to fix this.”

Baekhyun laughs bitterly, and he won’t look at you. “There’s no way to fix this.”

“You don’t know that,” you say stubbornly. “Whoever I’ve been in the past, I’ve never been this person, and I know I can fix it.”

He pushes himself away from the tree as if it takes effort to do it. “You always say that,” he says, and he doesn’t sound angry anymore, just tired.

You’re angry, heat rushing through your veins, and you don’t know if it’s at him or the fact that some ancient curse has decided to come through your life like a brushfire.

You push at him and he doesn’t fight back, doesn’t even keep you from pushing him against the tree.

“You don’t care, is that it? You’re what, bored of this? You want to get your bow so you can get rid of me?”

His jaw tightens and he looks away from you. “Maybe I do.”

You push him again and he has nowhere to go, backed up against the tree so he just takes it, stands there.

“Coward.” You spit. “You’d rather match me with someone else. You’d rather let someone else-”

“Stop it,” he says, something like a warning in his voice and you want to laugh or cry or both.

“Look at you. You can’t even hear me say it, but you’re going to marry me off like some 14th century child bride-”

“I’m not-” Baekhyun huffs, then stops, runs his hand through his hair. “He’s your true match. You… you always love him, when you meet him.” He struggles with the last sentence but he maintains eye contact, jaw working.

“Fuck my true match. And fuck you if that’s your answer to this.” You rage.

He doesn’t speak. “You’re always happy when you find him.” His voice is weak and it sounds like a weak excuse to your ears and you’re shaking with anger and fear.

You have this memory, sudden and sharp like a knife.

You're in this stone room, an inn you think, and you're half asleep but you can hear a low murmur from the room. It's familiar, from your traveling companion of the last few weeks.

His name is on your lips as you sit up but he's pacing around the room, not paying any attention to you. The way he's talking to himself makes you worried.

"You have to do this. You have to, you know you do," he mutters and there's something liquid in his voice.

Suddenly he slaps himself across the face and you yelp his name, stand up to take his wrist in your hand.

"Baekhyun," you whisper. "What are you doing?"

His face is flushed and his eyes look so tired, so worn, like he's lived a thousand years.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he manages, pulling away from your touch as if you'd burn him.

A few days later, his hands are shaking when he draws his bow, and your eyes are on him instead of your true match.

"Wh-what if you miss?" You whisper.

Baekhyun smiles but he won't look at you. "I don't miss."

He doesn't, but part of you wishes he had.

The memory just makes you angrier, makes you want to push him again.

“Am I? And what about you? What about you, Baek, are you happy without me? Are you happy giving me away?”

He scoffs, finally looking at you.

“No, really. Tell me. You must be happy giving me away because you want to do it so badly-”

“I hate it!” He bursts out. “I fucking hate it, every single time. I hate the way you look at him. I even hate how happy he makes you. I should be happy giving you away so that you can be safe, so that you can have the family that you want, but I fucking hate it.”

“Why do you hate it?” You demand to know, tears streaming down your face.

“You know-” he starts and you shake your head.

“I need you to tell me.”

Baekhyun puffs out his cheeks, he does that when he’s frustrated, when he wants to scream but you don’t have time to think about how cute it is right now.

“I hate it because I love you. I hate it because whoever your true match is, you’re mine.” He says, finally, heaving in a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

“Because I’m yours,” you parrot back at him, and his mouth opens, brows furrowed in a frown.

He takes a step toward you, now, but you don’t back away, and you don’t flinch when he takes your hips in his hands, tugs you toward him, claiming your mouth.

You claw at him, can’t help yourself and you don’t care that brambles are scratching your legs when he lies you down on the ground, don’t care because he’s panting your name into your ear, your name, not all those previous yous. You don’t care because you’ve chosen him, despite whatever the gods had determined to be your “true match.”

“We have to do this,” you tell him as you’re adjusting your clothes and he’s still lying there, panting.

He nods, as if humoring you, but he isn’t as listless when he starts back up the trail with you, keeping up with you and stealing kisses and making small talk.

You’re sweating by the time the two of you reach the top of the mountain, and when you look back, Baekhyun has fallen behind a bit, struggling up the hill.

You startle when thunder cracks overhead, sudden and close, but you walk back down the path to him, put your hand on his arm and he’s trembling.

“We’ve never made it this far,” he says, voice hoarse. “I don’t know what will happen next.”

“We don’t ever know what happens next, Baekhyun, but you know what happens when we don’t.”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Not if you let me get my arrows, we can stop all of this, we can-”

“No!” You yell. “No, shut up about that, I can make my own choices!”

You tug on his arm and he stumbles forward only a few steps before stopping again and you can see the circle of stones at the top of the hill, where you’re supposed to stand according to the legends, and you haven’t done weeks of research and travelled across the world for nothing.

You take his hand in yours, squeeze, and look into his eyes.

“It’s okay,” you promise, and you have no idea what’s about to happen and it’s raining now, cold against your skin, but you know that you have to do this.

Baekhyun looks at you and there’s nothing in his eyes but fear and uncertainty but you tug at his hand again anyway and this time he follows without resistance.

It happens so quickly after that.

You step into the circle first, and he pauses, hesitating before breaking the barrier by stepping over one of the irregular stones. The second he does, lightning cracks above your head and you cry out, frightened.

Baekhyun grabs you out of instinct or some desire to protect you and you go down, scraping your elbows against the rock and sand as you try to catch yourself. Baekhyun puts his hands on either side of your head and it’s raining so hard that it’s all you can hear, that and the thunder, and there’s lightning everywhere, lighting up his features as he looks down at you.

“I was never strong enough to do this before,” he says, nearly yelling over the storm. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t-”

He’s cut off by another crack of lightning and he seems to be… lighting up, somehow, some glow that you think is from the lightning but then you see it’s coming from inside him. He arches his back, his face lined with pain and you realize something’s happening, something bad but when you reach up to touch him, he’s giving off so much heat that the tips of your fingers burn.

“Baek,” you whisper, and he manages to focus on you again. When he does, his face… it isn’t his face, but somehow you recognize it anyway and it keeps changing, cycling through all the lifetimes you’ve shared together.

“I’ve been so many things,” he says, and his voice is strong even over the chaos. “but I’ve always been yours.”

He manages to touch his forehead to yours and you’re terrified by the storm and what’s happening and especially how it seems to pain him to even move, how he’s glowing brighter and brighter until your eyes start watering.

He says your name but it’s your name and Jacqueline and Eva and Yui and so many others, all wrapped into one, and kisses you, the bright light coming from him forcing your eyes shut as he gets closer.

When you open them, there’s no sound of the rain or thunder and the ground under you is dry, as if you’d imagined it all.

But you can taste the rainwater in your mouth. You can still taste him there, too, but he’s gone.

You scramble up, yelling out his name and there’s nothing, just the sound of the birds in the trees. Moments before, the sky had been black, but now it’s sunny again.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel the tears running down your throat as you stumble down the path.

You’re sobbing by the bottom of the path because there’s nothing, no evidence he was even there at all. You’re remembering what he said, how he said you’d never been that far before, but you’re wondering if he’d known, anyway.

You’re wondering if breaking the curse means that he has to die and how all of this is your fault your fault your fault.

There’s a sound in the woods and you barely realize it until there’s a man standing next to you.

“Miss? Are you all right?”

You sniffle, looking up at him, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s Baekhyun, just the same, wearing the wet and sandy clothes he’d been wearing just a few moments ago, but something’s wrong and you can’t rush to him like you want to.

“Baekhyun?”

He rubs the back of his neck, smiles a little sheepishly. “Is that my name? I seem to have forgotten it. I think… I think I got lost.”

You think about how this feels, how there’s not a single light of recognition in his eyes and it feels like your chest has cracked wide open. You think about how he must have felt this, over and over again, and understand why he didn’t want you to have to feel it.

You take a deep, shaky breath and wipe at your eyes with the heels of your hands.

“You’re not lost,” you tell him, and take his hand.

Baekhyun looks down at your hand in his and then back up to you, a smile breaking across his face. “No, doesn’t seem like it anymore.”

You’re trying not to cry as you lead him back to the resort when he stops and you turn back to look at him.

“I know this might seem like an odd question, but… have we met before?”

It hurts but you crack a smile anyway, remembering how he’d done this for you over and over, remembering what he’d said to you a few months ago.

“Maybe in another life.”

#supermnet #noonasinnetwork #byun baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x reader #super m imagine #exo imagone #baekhyun imagine

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nintendousimp · 3 years

Text

Train of Thought...

Part:1 Getting Caught

Master 👉Next

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader, Miya Atsumux Reader.

Character: Gender Neutral! or I want to everyone to feel comfortable so any pronouns welcomed for this story.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Some angst and colorful language, mentions of cheating and getting caught in the action, mentions of also thinking to forgive unfaithful partner, some grammar errors 😅 ( I need to emphasize this by saying that English is not my first language and although my English is great I still have a lot of trouble so constructive criticism is welcomed 🥰)

Word Count: 2k

Released date: January 19th 2021

I feel like I need to emphasize that all of the characters in this story are aged up! I’m not comfortable with talking about sexual topics if the characters are still in high school and are underage so,this is a timeskip!😅

Before we go any further into the story, I plan to post part 2 of this! Part 2 will take me a bit longer to post due to personal matters but it will be posted!

Enjoy my first ever Haikyuu x Reader Fic!!!

——————————————————————-

You’ve been working late into the night for the past few months so he must’ve thought that this would be your same routine from your previous nights. He's always been a careful person. He knows you have your location on. He always knows where you are but not just for your safety but to also bring her over.

He knows this is wrong. He loves you and knows he could've talked to you about maybe spending less time at work and maybe make a bit more time for him. Atsumu knows that your work is important and he's not gonna take advantage of you like that, especially when you come home from work tired, and with his volleyball schedule and his career you guys barely got to spend time with each other.

He wants to stop this but his need never stops. He knows what he has with her is just something done out of lust and that’s it. Atsumu only wants her around just to make his cock feel good and that’s it. He's already made it very clear he does not plan to leave you and to not get any crazy ideas.

He thought that tonight would be just like any other. He couldn’t have known that you were on your way home. He couldn’t have possibly remembered that today of all days was the release day of your book that you've put months of work into. Who knew that by mistake you left your phone at the office. All he knew at that moment was that your best friend's pussy takes him so well.

As you were driving your way home all you could think about is to hug your husband and yell to the world that you've finally finished your first written work! You felt such accomplishment that this book that you've put all your heart, sweat, and tears into was finally released! So many people believed in your dream but you felt you really couldn’t have done it without the love and support from your husband.

There have been many times where you felt like you haven't been given Atsumu much attention. You've been working long hours and at times late into the night to get this book out before the deadline you've been given. All those hours of hard work you felt paid off, now all that’s left to do is celebrate and who to celebrate better than your husband. After all, he's the inspiration behind your book.

You get out of your car making your way towards the entrance of your house. You notice a car that you've seen before but you can't remember where, so you just brush it off and make your way to the door. As you're unlocking the main entrance door, you don’t notice anything out of the ordinary. The house is dark and there's no one in the living area, I mean what did you expect its one in the morning. You were going about your routine trying to not wake Atsumu up when you hear some strange noises coming from your shared master.

As you're approaching the hallway that leads to your room, you've noticed the noises are starting to sound a lot more like sexual moans. Your first thought would've been that Atsumu might've fallen asleep while watching porn, and you'd believe that. But these moans sounded too real to be coming from the tv in your shared bedroom. You can see from the small gap underneath the door that the lights are still on.

You're getting ready to enter your room when you notice that the door is slightly open. If only someone were to prepare you for what you were about to see. As you enter the room you see what no woman ever wants to go through. Your husband Atsumu on top of another woman.

"I can never see myself with anyone that wasn’t my husband," you said.

Who would’ve thought that my marriage was falling apart… not me right?

Have I been so oblivious this whole time?

How long has this been going on? The question I proceeded to ask myself...

How did I not see this coming?

But now that you saw everything with your own eyes, you realized you’ve put all the pieces to a puzzle you didn’t even know you were solving.

Today was publishing day and you were gonna surprise Tsumu by coming home after the book release, you would have called but your phone may have been misplaced somewhere in your office. You didn’t have time to go back to the office, you’ve been missing Tsumu a lot. But the surprise you got when you entered your shared bedroom and watched as your husband was on top of another woman was not something you ever expected to happen.

As you stood there watching your husband fuck another woman and not just any woman but your best friend all you could think about was, Atsumu the man that promised to be with you for the rest of your life was in your bed fucking your best friend. You want to be angry, you want to run and scream at them, you want to ask why they did it. Not that any explanation would fix anything, you just couldn’t say anything. As you stood there for what felt like a lifetime. Did you lose your train of thought? Did you forget how to talk?

He finally notices that you’ve been standing there. He panics and gets off your best friend as he tries making his way towards you. All you could think to do at that moment was to just close the door and run out of the house towards your car and make your way out of there. You started driving with no destination in mind, you just wanted to be anywhere away from this bomb. As you're driving, you end up taking the route that leads you to Akaashi’s place. You get out of the car and make your way towards his door.

It’s like you came here out of instinct.

How can you not when you guys have been working on this project for the past several months. He’s a great editor and a great friend too! He appreciates your hard work! You remember when you told him that you wanted to give writing another try and had an idea for a book he immediately offered his services as an editor. He’s always offered his help to you. Even goes out of his way to help you research some titles or genres that you could find interest in writing. He’s a great guy and you’ve grown very close to him.

Now you’re at Keijis place late in the hours of the night. You decided that you couldn’t do this by yourself so you knock on his door.

“Y/N are you alright, What are you doing out so late?” He asks.

You shake your head no. How were you gonna tell Akaashi your world was falling apart. He’s your editor, he shouldn’t need to know that your husband just cheated on you with your best friend.

“Would you like to come in? We can talk about whatever is troubling you?”

He doesn’t give you a second to answer before he grabs your hand and guides you to the living room. He has you sit on his sofa while he makes you both some tea. Some time has passed since you arrived at Akaashi’s, you’re telling him everything that happened an hour prior to being there. Akaashi is tracing small circles on your back. He tells you that this wasn’t your fault and you're not one to blame here and that

“Hey Y/N?”

“Did you say something Keiji?” Y/N says looking up from his shoulder. He can tell they’ve been crying. Akaashi hated seeing them like this. These past several months, he got to know Y/N as a very kind and goal-minded person. He saw someone who only strived to make her and other’s visions come to reality. The months Akaashi spent with Y/N were by far the best few months of his life. He would never tell Y/N that.t He hates that the book is done because now they won’t get to spend as much time together as they used to.

The months he’s been with her he got to spend a lot of time getting to know her world. He observed the way she would get when she had writer’s block. The number of times he’s watched her get frustrated at how she didn’t like the ending of a chapter for the book. He saw how countless nights she felt helpless and wanted to quit. She would fall into a negative state where she convinced herself she wasn’t a good writer. He also saw the nights where she would vent to him about Atsumu becoming distant once again. NIghts where they would drown themselves with work just so they didn’t think about crying.

He saw all of that. Nights where y/n needed Atsumu. Late nights where he was fucking his wife’s best friend.

“What’s your next move?” Akaashi asked.

“I think the best thing right now is for me to go home and get an explanation”

Your expression is giving regret all over it. How were you gonna go back home and look Atsumu in the face? What more could he explain that you don’t already know? You keep going back and forth between blaming yourself more than blaming him. You want to put this in your head as if it was your fault. But you know deep down that if Atsumu really loves you like he says he does he wouldn’t have cheated. At the end of the day, he cheated on you, not the other way around.

“I think I'm gonna call Yachi and see if she’s okay with me spending a few nights at her place just until I figure out what I’m gonna do. In the meantime, I gotta get back home.”

You sigh, you're getting ready to get up when Akaashi takes a hold of your hand

“Wait Before you go, I have a suggestion for tonight if you’d like to hear”

Akaashi doesn’t want you going alone but he also feels as if he’s overstepping his boundaries. He knows this is none of his business but why does he feel like it is?

“How about we go get some of your things and you spend the night here?”

It was a nice offer from Keiji, but you already feel like a burden. He’s been so kind as to listen to you, you just don’t wanna cause him any more trouble.

“ I appreciate the offer Keiji but I don’t wanna wrap you up in my troubles.”

“ Y/N you’re no trouble, I just want you to know that you’re more than welcomed to stay here.” Akaashi knew you’d reject his invitation. He knows you’re not the type of person to rely on others' help, you’re a giver not a taker after all.

“Can you promise me if you don’t wanna be there with Atsumu you’ll call me and come here?” Akaashi the overthinker, always worrying about others.

“ I promise I’ll call you Keiji, if anything happens I promise to come back here.” The answer appeases him, he lets your hand go.

“Thank you Y/N Can I walk you out?” You nod and make your way towards the entrance door.

“Thank you for having me over at this time of night..” before you could finish your sentence, you were pulled into Akaashi’s arms.

“You don’t have to thank me Y/N, I’m glad you trust me enough to open up about what happened.”

You don’t know why but his words are making you feel safe. You trust Keiji, he’s not the type of guy to hurt anybody.

You thank Akaashi again as he walks you to your car “ Can I check on you tomorrow?”

You reply with a nod “ See you tomorrow Keiji.”

Both of you say your goodbyes. As you’re leaving Akaashi’s house, you can’t help but feel nervous about the conversation you were about to have with your husband. What was gonna happen with your marriage? Can this be forgiven? Questions that kept plaguing your head. Only one question stuck out more than the others…

Do I wanna divorce Atsumu?

Summary:

L/N F/N a young adult working on their first ever book with the help of editor and friend (Akaashi). Discovers that their husband has been cheating on them for the past few months that they’ve been working nonstop. Heartbroken y/n decides to drown herself in their work. Will they be able to Forgive their cheating husband from his infidelity or will they approach the man who fell in love with them while working on their book?

Characters belong to the Haruichi Furudate.

#haikyuu #akaashixreader #akaashi fanfiction #atsumu x reader #atsumu x female reader #atsumu angst #haikyuu fic #akaashi angst

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topsytervy · 3 years

Text

Not The Right Time ~ JJ Maybank

Blurb: JJ has a thing for you. Unfortunatley, it just isn't the right time.

Word count: 1,929 (give or take. did some last minute editing)

Warnings: mention of cheating, drinking, drug use (weed), swearing, not proofread so probably spelling mistakes, I think that's it.

Quick rundown because I have more of these than usual cause this one is slightly more descriptive of the reader (aka you): s/c = skin color, e/c = eye color, h/l = hair length, h/c = hair color, h/t = hair type (curly, straight, etc...)

Me somehow breaking out of my Rafe phase for a minute to write something JJ related? Yes, I am just as surprised as you are.

~~~~~~

JJ lounged in the hammock in the backyard, drinking his third beer of the night with a book next to him. This was a routine for him at this point. While you were out with your boyfriend, he went into the backyard to drink away his sorrows and stayed up until you got home to make sure you actually got home.

The nights when you texted him that you wouldn't be coming home, opting to stay at your boyfriends instead, were the worst for him.

If you asked JJ, your boyfriend was an asshole. He never liked him and probably never would. However, you were his best friend and roommate since you both graduated from high school so whatever made you happy was fine by him.

It just sucked that he wasn't the one who made you happy the way your boyfriend did.

JJ often found himself mesmerized by your beauty. Your beautiful (s/c) skin and (e/c) eyes often entranced him which usually caused you to nudge him.

"You good?" You'd ask.

"Absolutely peachy." He'd grin.

After all, How could he not be peachy with you around?

He noticed the way you'd play with your (h/l) (h/c) (h/t) hair mindlessly when you'd be focused on a movie or the way you picked at the skin around your nails when you got nervous.

JJ sighed as he crushed his now empty beer can and reached for another that sat in the cooler next to the hammock.

"Woe is me," he whispered, popping the tab of the new can.

He brought the can to his lips but pulled it away when he heard the front door open and close which caused a confused expression to cross his face.

He didn't hear a car pull up and drop you off like usual since your boyfriend often picked you up.

"Y/N!" He called, hoping that you'd hear him and that it was actually you and not an intruder.

He grew quiet as he heard faint footsteps from inside and the sliding glass door slide open.

"Yeah, it's me." You answered.

Your voice was barely above a whisper which caused JJ to turn his head to face you.

"Come join me for a drink." He waved you over, not being able to make out your face in the darkness.

You shuffled closer to JJ and the faint glow from the solar lights you guys had casted upon your face. JJs face dropped at the sight of yours.

"Oh my god. Y/N," JJ immediately dropped his can on the ground.

The contents spilled onto the grass as he took in your appearance.

You eyes were red from crying, black smudges of mascara on your face and your nose was slightly red, more than likely from the irritation of you constantly wiping it on your sleeve.

"What happened sweetheart?" He asked as he pulled you into the hammock.

"He's been cheating on me." You whispered, your voice hoarse as you laid on him.

He took in a sharp breath and his arms tightened around you. "How do you know?"

"He left his phone at the table when he went to the bathroom and I answered it. Before I could say anything a woman's voice came through and said hey baby. When I suggested she had the wrong number since this was my boyfriends phone, she said no this is Brett's number and that's when I knew."

JJ rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head.

"I am so sorry Y/N." He whispered.

You shrugged, feeling numb.

It was quiet for a few minutes before you noticed the book next to him. "Whatcha reading?"

JJ took an arm from around you and grabbed his book.

"A book of Edgar Allan Poe's works." He answered.

"Can you read to me?"

JJ nodded as he opened the book. "Want me to start from the beginning?"

"You can if you want."

JJ flipped to the first page. "The Cask of Amontillado." He began as you made yourself comfortable.

After half an hour, JJ stopped and looked at you. Your eyes were closed and your mouth was slightly open. JJ smiled as he made himself comfortable in the hammock. You looked so peaceful and he wasn't about to risk waking you up just to try to get you in your bed.

He wrapped his arms around you and closed his eyes, letting sleep take over.

******

The next morning, you woke up with a small headache and placed your head in your hands.

"Hey, I made you scrambled eggs with cheese and those ham cubes you like along with some bacon."

Your head turned towards the voice and you saw JJ walking over with two plates of food, setting them on the patio table that was placed a few feet away from the hammock.

JJ walked back inside as you stood up and walked over to your breakfast. You stretched as JJ came back with a bottle of apple juice for you and a beer for himself, pulling out his chair before sitting down.

"I was thinking since neither of us work today, we could steal the HMS Pogue from John B and go out on the marsh. Just the two of us. smoke some weed, drink some beer. You know, the usual." The blonde suggested, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth as he did. "Hell, maybe even just stay out there the entire night. We'll pack plenty of food.“

You stayed quiet and forked some eggs into your mouth before reaching for your apple juice, attempting to open it. After a few unsuccessful attempts, JJ held out his hand and you gave the bottle to him. He opened it with ease and gave you the bottle back. You took a drink before returning to your food.

Technically, he wouldn't be taking the pogue without John B's permission. He had talked to John B about taking it after a call this morning, telling him what had happened. John B had said the boat was all his for the day and all JJ had to do was to let him know when JJ was planning on confronting Brett so he could get a few punches in.

"So…me, you, and the Pogue out on the marsh?" JJ asked again.

You sighed. " I don't know, J. "

"Okay, I know that last night was rough and I'm 100% sure Brett will get what's coming to him, but today is about making you feel better and I know theres nothing you like more than chilling in the middle of the marsh with a joint in one hand and a beer in the other, maybe some swimming beforehand." He saw you thinking about it and knew you were leaning towards yes so he drove it home. "Plus you like sleeping under the stars and you're always napping on the boat. Why not combine them?"

You bit your lip, the idea tantalizing.

You nodded. "Okay but don't be all mad cause I'm all mopey."

"I won't. I'll be fishing while getting high with my best friend."

" I thought JB was your best friend?" You smirked.

JJ placed a finger to his lips and sent you a wink. "Shh. Our little secret."

****

You sat on the blanket-covered floor of the HMS Pogue, a joint being passed between you and JJ as you sipped on a beer and ate the abundance of food JJ had brought with.

It was hours later, darkness had fallen and the stars had come out. JJ had stopped at The Wreck to order a shit ton of food before you took the Pogue out and paid for it all despite you offering to pitch in for half.

"Oh no no no. Rule #1 of friends supporting a friend whos been broken up with: the one who has gone through the break-up doesnt pay for anything the day after."

"Oh yeah? Who made that dumbass rule Maybank?" You crossed your arms, eyebrows raised.

"Uh, I will have you know JJ Maybanks Rules To Help A Friend Through Heartbreak is a number one best seller." JJ shot qt you.

"Oh yeah. I bet that that fake ass book is raking in all the fake ass dough and your signing plenty of fake ass boobs at your fake ass book signing." You nodded.

"Actually, the fake ass bookstore that is holding my fake ass book signing doesn't allow boob autographs. Something about it being inappropriate apparently." He grinned.

You took a bite of your sandwich as you passed the joint to JJ.

"You know what JJ?"

He hummed in response as he took a hit off the joint.

"This was really nice and I had a really great time today." You grinned.

JJ smiled, happy that the smile was back on your face. " I'm really glad Y/N/N. You know you deserve this, right?"

You shrugged, taking a sip of your beer before taking the joint back from the blonde.

"I'm serious, Y/N. You deserve this and way more. You deserve someone who can give you everything you need and want." JJ scooted closer to you.

"If I deserve everything like you say I do, J, then why wasn't I good enough for Brett." you whispered.

JJ took the joint from your hand and placed it in the ashtray he had set on the floor before moving next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling your body into his side.

"It's not that you weren't good enough for Brett, Brett wasn't good enough for you. He's a damn fool for letting you go. I've heard Kooks like Topper talking about how bad they want to date you. If a Kook wants to date you, a pogue who hangs out with me who every Kook hates, that means you're a pretty remarkable person." JJ told you.

You felt yourself smile at his words. "You always know what to say, J. Sometimes, I wonder why you haven't used that intelligent brain of yours to woo yourself a girIfriend."

JJ scoffed at your words.

"I'm serious JJ. You are so much smarter than you think you are. Both streetwise and bookwise. You read me Edgar Allan Poe last night as if it was your first language and didn't even stop to ask me what any words meant like you usually do around the others. You shouldn't hide your smarts, J. Smart you is way sexier than dumb you." JJ felt himself blush and you ruffled his hair as you turned your body to face his. "I wish you let everyone else see the JJ Maybank I see."

JJ sighed. "I don't woo any girls with my words cause it's either not the right time or not the right girl."

"Come on JJ. You're 20 years old and you mean to tell you haven't met one girl you didn't want to be in a long term relationship with?" You asked through a mouthful of sandwich, hand covering your mouth.

"I never said that."

your eyes widened as you swallowed your food and took a swig from your beer. "You like someone right now!" JJ rolled his eyes. " Oh my God. Maybank, spill! What's stopping you from going after her?"

JJ took the blunt from the ashtray and took a long slow drag before turning his blue eyes onto your e/c ones. "Like I said, not the right time. I have to wait until I think she's ready for a relationship."

~~~~~~

#jj obx #jj outer banks #jj x reader #jj maybank #rudy pankow #obx

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leeknowsredeyeliner · 3 years

Text

break up - choi hyunsuk

hyunsuk x fem reader x yoshi (?)

summary: you finally confront your boyfriend and get everything off your chest. how does it result into a break up?

genre: college au, break up au

word count: 3.8k+

warning: minor cussing, mention of anxiety, minor anxiety attack (passing out), mention of anxiety pills/meds, break up

note: the first sad fanfic i’ve ever written so i hope you enjoy :)

You're trembling at the sight of the audience from backstage, basically the entire university is present. Having anxiety and dreaming of becoming a performer is obviously not the best combination, you always need to have your pills ready in case of an emergency. You're completely used to performing in front of your classmates and a large crowd but they opened the theater until every seat was filled, you can barely see the people in the back.

The only thing that keeps you going is your best friend, he's always front seat at your recitals and other performances. Even when Yoshi's not physically there to cheer you on, you know he's watching from a FaceTime call with your moms. You've been best friends since freshman orientation, you've even thought you would end up together but there was someone else that caught your eye -- your current boyfriend, Hyunsuk.

Most people suspect that Yoshi's your boyfriend because he's always seen around you, but you don't blame them, it logically makes sense. Even you sometimes feel like Yoshi treats you as more than just a best friend. Hyunsuk tends to be busy on weekends which is totally understandable, you just wish he'd make the time and effort to see you perform just once. He's never been to any of your performances or recitals, you wouldn't be surprised if he was unaware of them. Your moms are concerned for your relationship but you repeatedly remind them it's no big deal to you and he's just a busy guy.

"30 seconds," one of the backstage staff whispers passing by you. You mentally prepare yourself for your last performance of the year. 'I can do this.' Is all you repeat in your mind. The only way you can survive is by searching for your silver haired best friend in the audience and he'll give you all the encouragement you need.

"You’re up," the same person from earlier whispers from beside you. You take a deep breath in and out to slightly calm down the rollercoaster of nervousness mixed with puke in your stomach. You make your way on the stage and before the song starts, you don't hesitate to distinctively skim the first row. Your eyes stop near the middle as you see Yoshi with a big smile on his face. He gives you his iconic thumbs up of motivation and the song starts.

You sing your heart out to the audience but caught yourself looking at Yoshi a bit too often. Then again, he's the only one out there that came for you. Not even your moms could make it because of how close the performance is to the holidays.

[7:09pm]

You gather your belongings from the dressing room and speed walk out of the hall. Opening the door to the main hallway, Yoshi is leaning against the wall holding a box of chocolates. You run up to him as his arms open wide, ready for you to tackle him. Your bodies clash together, pulling him into a tight hug. His head nestles into your neck as he mumbles, "You killed it as always, (Y/n)."

"Only because of you. You know I can't do anything without you around," you giggle. You both pull away from the hug then he takes your bag away from you, slinging it over his shoulder.

"What? Am I like your lucky charm?" He jokes and you both laugh but in the back of your mind you take it seriously, he technically is. Whenever he's watching over the phone, you make the slightest mistakes and just pray the audience doesn't notice. His live presence is much more comforting to you. "These are for you. I know you hate flowers because you consider them a waste of space in your apartment." He hands you the box of chocolates -- your favorite box of chocolates.

"Thank you. I'll finish these tonight. Do you wanna go for some cheesecake?" Yoshi and you celebrate after every performance with food or if he's feeling generous, he takes you out to go shopping.

"Ooh, I can't. I'm going out with Asahi and Jihoon. I'll make it up to you tomorrow though."

"There's no need to make up for it, the chocolate's enough." The two of you don't always need to celebrate with food afterwards. Maybe going back to the apartment and spending the rest of the night with Hyunsuk will be better anyway.

"You don't need a ride home?" He asks as you make your way outside of the building.

"It's across the street, I can walk." Perks of living close to the university means saving cash for food.

"Alright, you be safe. And don't forget to take your anxiety meds once he get home," he orders, throwing your bag at you. You say your goodbyes then part ways.

[7:32pm]

You unlock the door to your apartment and while taking your shoes off, you see Hyunsuk's daily pair. It seems like he casually threw them onto the floor with no care in the world. You neatly place them in an available cubby and put your shoes away in their rightful spot.

You walk into your room to see Hyunsuk passed out across the bed. You clean out your bag, putting your belongings away where they belong. While getting dressed into your house clothes, you hear movement from outside the bathroom. Walking out of the bathroom, you throw your hair up into a ponytail.

"When did you get here?" Hyunsuk asks as you join him in the kitchen.

"Around 10 minutes ago? How long have you been home for?"

"I came here straight after school. Where were you?" He casually responds, grabbing a popsicle from the freezer. "Out with Yoshi again?" He asks with a hint of annoyance in his voice, but maybe you're just annoyed with the words that came out his mouth. It's obvious he doesn't listen to a word you say. He really had no idea about your performance? Also, what's the reason for bringing up Yoshi in that way?

"I had my monthly performance," you bluntly say. If he really had no clue, there's no way you'd be able to tolerate his ignorance. The list of things he does that piss you off keeps growing longer and longer.

"Since when do you have monthly performances?" Your eyes follow his body moving from the kitchen to the couch. The TV flickers on and you notice his interest beginning to fade away like in any conversation you've had in the past.

"Can you please turn the TV off when we're talking?" You order him like you're his mother. Does he have even the slightest drop of respect? He treats you like his sidepiece, like you're there to entertainment him whenever he feels like it.

"Don't worry, I'm still listening," he responds with his eyes glued to the TV. His eyes haven't met yours since you've arrived.

Hyunsuk is your first boyfriend. You were never the type to date before college because the only thing occupying your mind was school. Although you started off clueless in relationships, after being with Hyunsuk for a year, you eventually learned the attributes to a toxic relationship and how certain behaviors are formed.

In the beginning, it was never like this, Hyunsuk did anything and everything just to gain your attention for more than 20 seconds, trying to win you over every day. You loved playing hard to get with him, testing his limits. One day, you gave in to him and his constant courting. The two of you became the happy couple everyone aspires to be.

"But I don't want coffee today!" You whine and jump a bit in place to show how desperate you are. "Ice cream please."

"Fine, only because I love you." The word 'no' doesn't exist in his vocabulary, at least when it comes to you. He feels bad when he sees how disappointed you get when things don't go the way you want. You and Yoshi walk through the campus on your way to the ice cream parlor nearby.

Acting like a child is a natural instinct to you. You're the youngest in the family so you were babied the most and those behaviors never faded away. You enjoy your foot to stay in the squares, never touching the lines as you walk along the sidewalks. Yoshi found your actions interesting and would sometimes copy you when he felt like it, other times he'd watch you from behind as your pace quickens.

"Do it with me," you say. It was supposed to come out as an order but the baby side of you stopped yourself. You take Yoshi's hand in yours to line him up to your speed. As you hop over each line, Yoshi walks beside you looking like a loser. "You're so lame. You owe me two ice-"

"Hey, (Y/n)!" Hyunsuk chirps from beside you, cutting you off. Hyunsuk's been convincing you to let him take you on a date for too long. Every day it's the same thing, 'How does this weekend sound?' 'Just one date.' It's not that you didn't want to go out with him, you'd actually enjoy it very much. You just want to test his patience, see how long he can last, and to what extent he'll go to.

You let go of Yoshi's hand and bring your hands to the straps of your backpack. "Uh, hi?" You act totally uninterested. You like to see him stutter and think of ways for you to say more than four words at a time.

"Did you tell Yoshi you want two ice creams? I can buy you two ice cream cones, if that's what you want." If someone is willing to buy you more than one of any kind of food, you're not passing up on that opportunity. Hyunsuk willing to pay for the food just to win you over is quite worrisome though, it's a sign of easy manipulation.

"I guess," you keep your response short.

"It's okay, dude. I can buy for (Y/n)." Yoshi says from the other side of you. He may have not gotten the message that this was a test for Hyunsuk.

"I just got paid, paying for her ice cream won't hurt," Hyunsuk throws a sassy smile at Yoshi. Hyunsuk runs in front of you to get to the ice cream parlor before you and Yoshi.

"You really got him using his money for you, huh?"

"Yup! You know, he seems to like me a lot," you state the obvious.

"Really? Hm, I don't know. To me, it seems like he doesn't even want to be around you," he sarcastically says.

"I kind of like him now," you blurt out.

"A Hyunsuk confession to me? That's a shocker." He's known about who you felt about Hyunsuk for a few days now. He was neither happy nor upset about the news, he must've seen it coming. "What? Are you finally going to answer him today?" He laughs with no idea that you've already created a plan before today.

"Um, yeah." Yoshi stops in his track but you continue to walk, not caring if he gets left behind or not. "Can you walk? I have ice cream waiting for me."

"You're going to tell him? Today?" He sounds absolutely shocked. It's hard to tell whether it's because he's afraid you'd abandon him or maybe he'll feel bad if things don't work the way you'd want.

"Is that not what I just said?" You walk back over to him and wrap your arms together. "Now, let's go."

The two of you walk over to the ice cream parlor and Hyunsuk's already waiting at a table with your two ice cream cones in hand. Yoshi orders his ice cream while you sit with Hyunsuk. "Thanks," you say as he hands you both cones.

"Yeah, no problem. I remember you always had strawberry ice cream at uni so that's what I got you," he flashes a cute smile.

"Do you not have some for yourself?" You ask and he shakes his head. A frown forms on your face, it's unfair that he's bought you dessert but left himself empty-handed. You extend your arm out and force him to take your extra ice cream cone.

"Are you free this Saturday night?" You blurt our before taking a lick of your ice cream.

Hyunsuk's taken by surprise, you're never the one to initiate any conversation that demonstrates interest but you had a sudden burst of boldness. His eyes widen and he begins to stutter, "Oh. I- Well- It's a weekend- Uh-"

You cut him off, his stuttering's cute but you want a straight up answer, "If you're not free, just tell me. We can figure out another day."

"Thursday night?"

"It's a date."

The date is what initiated your relationship, it was a new beginning as a couple and for you as an individual. By the end of the date, Hyunsuk's impatient self had asked you to be his girlfriend and you proudly said yes.

You can't put your finger exactly on when your relationship went downhill, all you know is leading up to your one year anniversary, things changed.

Hyunsuk started off sweet, caring, a whore for your attention but turned into an unsupportive and distant boyfriend. He never takes you out on random dates, walks with you to school in the morning, and most importantly, you don't sleep in the same bed anymore and if you were, there'd be a line of pillows separating you. You're the only person putting in the effort nowadays and it's tiring.

You snatch the remote from beside him and turn off the TV. "What the hell? Give me back the remote!" He slightly raises his voice but it doesn't bother you. He's done it way too many times for it to have any sort of effect you.

"Oh? You want the remote back? Here, take it." You rip the batteries out from the back and slip them into your back pocket. Mercilessly, the remote is thrown onto the couch next to him.

"What the fuck was that for?" He yells yet again. His eyes meet yours for the first time, his eyebrows furrowed and face burning red.

"I can't take this anymore! I've been taking your shit for way too long. What happened to you the past few months, huh? You are a whole 'nother person. You're not the Hyunsuk I met in literature class my freshman year," I scoff. "The old you would do anything to see me, spend time with me. Please, just tel-"

"What do you expect? People change, (Y/n)! Do you want me to stay the same for the rest of my life?" He has a point, people change but never to the extent where they begin to lose interest in their girlfriend's life.

"I expect you to act like my boyfriend! You're never there for me. I'm always at your dance recitals and soccer games but never have you been to one of mine." Your vision becomes blurry because of your teary eyes. "I- I'm so fucking tired. Tired of- of having to look in the crowd and not see my boyfriend's face. Do you know how helpless I feel up on stage? You're supposed to be my number one supporter."

"You have never mentioned your performances before. How was I supposed to know?" This is his excuse? That's the fattest lie ever made on the planet.

"What do you mean?" You raise your voice. Your voice is very unstable and so is your mind, you could break at any second. "I've been bringing it up even before we started dating. I'd tell you every month, 'I have a performance next week. Do you want me to buy you a ticket?' You always have an excuse, it always has to do with work or going out with your friends. Do you just not have time for your girlfriend?"

"No! I don't! I have a social life and I need to pay the bills. All you do is go out with that stupid Yoshi boy!" He had absolutely no business bringing him into this. Is he using Yoshi as an excuse to ignore his own girlfriend?

"Pay the bills?" You quietly say to yourself before repeating it as loud as possible, "Pay the fucking bills? Your money goes straight to drinking with your friends. I am the only one paying the bills here. Me!" His head lowers down from embarrassment because he knows he's wrong. Yes, he makes money, but where does it all go? To food and drinks with his friends the night after earning it. It's a complete waste of money and a complete waste of your time. Because of how much money he spends, you end up working night and morning shifts to earn the money that he's responsible for paying off.

"And what the hell does Yoshi have to do with this? The only reason why the two of us are together so much is because he actually makes the effort to support me. He's my best friend and you're supposed to be my boyfriend. Instead of being a jealous brat, bringing up his name in an argument that has nothing to do with him, why don't you try to act your part?" You say all in one breath.

Just then, you break down into tears. You were holding it all in for too long that the pain and frustration hit you all at once, bringing you down into a ball of tears. Your breathing was obviously uneven as you were crying but it soon became hard to breathe. Hyunsuk stayed quiet the whole time, not knowing what to say or do. Was he supposed to comfort you or let you cry on the floor by yourself? After listening to your constant hiccuping and sobs continuing for god knows how long, he kneels in front of you.

Your cries were longer than usual and from the sound of his voice, he was concerned. "(Y/n)? Di- Did you take your pills when you got home?" You shake your head in response. This is why Yoshi is always there to remind you to take your pills, he knows you tend to forget at night.

"Okay." Hyunsuk disregards everything that's been said the past few minutes to focus on you and your health, "We're going to stand up and get you to the bed." He holds you up from your armpits, lifting you up from the floor. Once all of your weight is on your feet, nothing.

You see absolutely nothing. Pitch black.

[9:12pm]

You open your eyes to face the ceiling and stretch your arms and legs. "You're awake," a voice from beside you says.

"Yo- Yoshi. What are you doing here? What time is it? Where's Hyunsuk?" The questions flood out as you have a hard time remembering what happened to you.

"A lot of questions, huh? It's a bit past 9. Hyunsuk called me and told me about the fight you had and how you passed out. He didn't know how to handle you so he asked me to come over and help. He also didn't know how you'd feel if he was the first person you saw," he lets out a soft giggle at the end.

You forgot about your fight with Hyunsuk. Everything's coming back to you: The annoyance, the slight confusion of his words. You know if he were to walk through the door right now, you wouldn't hesitate to pounce him.

"You forgot to take your medicine when you got home, didn't you?" He breaks your train of thought. He knows you so well.

"Ho- How did you know?"

"Who's the one to call you at 7:40 every night to remind you?" He asks pulling out your phone to show you a missed call from him at exactly 7:40pm. Sometimes, you learn new things about yourself, like how high maintenance you are to the point where you need another person to remind you of what to do every single day.

"I didn't have to take my meds. I just shouldn't have went off on Hyunsuk, then this would've never happened."

Yoshi sighs and gently pats your head, "We both know it was bound to happen. There just needed to be something to trigger it." Again, he knows you so well, a bit too well.

"Can you bring him here? I want to finish my conversation from earlier." Maybe you won't pounce him, you have absolutely no energy for that. But you do need this weight to be lifted off of your shoulders.

"Only if you promise to not attack him or yell at him," he holds out his pinky. You connect your pinkies and do your quick handshake.

"Promise."

Yoshi leaves the room and shortly after, Hyunsuk walks through the door sending you a soft smile. You pat the spot next to you on the bed and he respectfully and quietly sits, waiting for you to say something.

"I think it's time," you softly say. You avoid eye contact with Hyunsuk because you knew if you were to look into his eyes, all it'd reflect is pain. Even though he wasn't the perfect boyfriend, maybe didn't even act like your boyfriend at all, he loves you and no matter how he acts, you both knew that. You never stopped loving him despite how many times he angered and tested you.

"Can we please try again? I swear I'll be the perfect boyfriend to you, (Y/n). I- I was thinking while you were asleep, looking back at the past few months. You put up with so much shit that you shouldn't have had to go through and I'm truly sorry. I want to make it up to you by making things right," he says with hope in his voice. "Please, (Y/n)." You look up at him, he genuinely is sorry. The regret and pain in his teary eyes are strong, no one could see past it.

You take a deep breath to quickly recollect your thoughts, "I'm sorry, Hyunsuk. I'm not happy in this relationship anymore. This could be the time to better ourselves." You keep it short, not wanting to hurt his feelings even more.

"I- I don't get a second chance?" A tear rolls down his face.

"I've given you more than just a second chance these past few months. Maybe in the future we'll have a chance to try again together." You still love Hyunsuk. There's no such thing as a perfect relationship, there's bound to be mistakes and obstacles in the way to drive you apart. If the two of you are truly meant to be then you'll meet again.

"Maybe," he softly says. "Or maybe it's Yoshi that should be given a chance."

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paradox-psyc-hoe-sis · 4 years

Text

New Suits

Peter Parker x reader (but it's not a Peter x reader themed fic), Avengers x teen reader.

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Y/n Stark and Peter Parker have planned the ultimate movie night together, but something gets in their way.

Warnings: body insecurities, angst I guess, mentions of weight and stretch marks, stuff like that. Both the reader and Peter are 18 years old.

A/n: Hello :) this is way more of an avengers x reader fic rather than a Peter x reader fic, but I needed the reader to be connected to Peter in a certain way so why not! Enjoy, my peeps - Honey

The clock ticked menacingly as you twirled the pencil you were holding between your fingers; last period on a Friday was always history with Mr Smith, and you hated it. Peter sat on the desk next to you and you could tell he was just as bored as you were, tapping his fingers against the polished wood table, staring into space. There were only three minutes left of class, and you were going to stay at Peter and May's apartment overnight to have a movie marathon, you couldn't be any more excited. As soon as the analogue clock on the wall turned to 2:58, you felt a vibration in your pocket and heard Peter's phone 'ding' in his pocket next to you, causing your teacher to turn around with a stern expression.

"I shouldn't have to remind you all of the one classroom rule," Mr Smith barked towards the class, "phones off." Once he turned back to face the whiteboard behind him, Peter turned to you with a confused look. Sneakily taking your phone out of your pocket, you saw a message from Jarvis:

"Happy Hogan is waiting outside for Y/N Stark and Peter Parker."

You silently showed Peter your phone before putting it into your backpack. What could Tony, or the Avengers, possibly want that'd ruin your weekend with Peter?

The bell rang piercingly through the classroom, and you packed up your bag.

"I can't believe we leave school in four months, it's crazy!" Peter started, shoving his textbook into his beige backpack. "One thing I certainly will not miss is this dreadful class." Peter kept his voice quiet, making sure your professor hadn't heard his snarky comment. Laughing, you and Peter walked out of class and down the corridor, towards to main exit.

"Why do you think Tones sent a car for us?" You asked, walking through the large double doors and into the sunlight. Both of you spotted Happy stood next to his car and headed towards the car park. "I haven't got a clue. But I'm sure Mr Stark," Peter emphasized, slightly disapproving of the nickname you gave your dad, "has a perfectly good reason. Besides, we'll probably only be at the tower for a couple of hours, right?" Nodding, you both walked up to the grey Audi.

"Hey Happy." You exclaimed with a smile. Once you all got in and buckled up, you took Peter's hand, and Happy began to drive out of the school grounds. "D'you know why Mr Stark wants us, Happy?" Peter asked, looking out of the window. Sighing, Happy looked into the rearview mirror to see you both. "I don't know." He said, looking back at the busy New York traffic, "Something about a suit update? I've been instructed to drive you both back to May's house at 9pm, so it can't be anything too important." You clenched up at the mention of a suit update, dreading what you were in for tonight.

You thought back to last year, remembering what exactly happened last time you got a new suit. You were quite insecure about your body, always wearing baggy clothes to hide it, but you couldn't always escape the sight of your own figure. To get a new suit, you need to have measurements taken, and the measurements have to be done in your underwear. You weren't fussy about having your measurements taken, as it was usually your dad that did it, but you'd recently been quite stressed about your appearance and weren't in the mood to do anything of the sorts today. Just this once, it didn't help that it was your father taking the measurements, either: you worried that if you became too fat or ugly, he would hate you. Considering you all were one big family, you wouldn't mind Bruce or Natasha doing it instead, so you were ought to ask them if they'd do it this time, to save any unwanted embarrassment in front of your father.

Soon enough, you got to the Avengers tower and headed straight for the common area. There, everybody was sat, waiting for Tony to arrive; Nat, Clint, Bruce, Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Rhodey. Peter sat down on one of the sofas, greeting everyone as he did so, but you stood in the door frame placing your backpack on the floor. "Nat, do you mind if I talk to you for a second?" Everybody turned to you, and Nat nodded with a smile. "Sure." She replied, hopping out of her seat and walking towards you. Nobody else was really phased by you and Natasha always spending time with each other, as you both were the main female avengers, and you saw her as a badass aunt. You began to walk down the hall, Nat to your right, taking slow steps.

"What's the matter, Y/n?" She asked, tucking a stray strand of crimson hair behind her ear. Stopping in the middle of the hall, you turned to face Natasha, a slight blush making its way to your cheeks - there was no easy way to say what was on your mind.

"I know this sounds really odd, but I was wondering if you'd take my measurements later on?" She looked slightly puzzled, but nodded anyway. You knew she'd want to know why, so you explained before she could ask.

"I'm just a little...insecure, that's all. I don't really want Tony judging me or my body, that's all." Her expression turned from puzzled to sympathetic, a slight hint of disappointment in her eyes. Uncomfortable, you looked down and stared at your worn out red converse.

"Y/n, you know your dad would never judge you, for any reason." You looked up at her as she rested a hand on your shoulder. "I'd really like to help you out, but I'm not qualified to take any measurements or information for Tony's work. Bruce helps to make the suits as well, y'know, and I could ask him if he'd do yours?" She spoke gently, stroking the side of your bare shoulder. You nodded, giving Nat a small smile. "That would be really nice. Thank you." Both of turned around and walked back to the common area. Just before you walked through the door, Nat turned to you and spoke. "You'll have to talk to Tony about this, okay? He's the best person to help you on this, and it might be good for you to get it off your chest." Nodding, you walked back into the common area.

You were sat on the grey sofa talking to Bucky when Tony walked in. Natasha quickly told Bruce what was going on when you went back into the common area, and he was happy to help, but you still felt a sense of nervousness like you had betrayed your father. Tony carried a piece of paper and a cup of coffee with him when he walked into the common area, sitting down on a chair.

"As you all know, we're doing new suit measurements and prototypes this afternoon, so you all need to be in the tower until 9." He spoke, talking a long swig of his coffee. "We should get measurements done by 6, and from then I'll need you to stay and give me information about anything new you want in your suits and stuff like that." He waved the sheet of paper he held and looked down to read from it, "This is a schedule that I beg you all to stick by otherwise I will lose my sanity even more than I already have. Clint, you're first to get measurements done in the lab, then you'll be followed by Steve, Sam, Bucky, Rhodey, Pete, Natasha and Y/n last." You swallowed hard when you heard him say your name, and tried not to think about the conversation you'd be having with him later on.

"Bruce and I are gonna go down to the labs now and set up. Clint, we'll need you down in about 10, capiche?" Bruce gave you a small smile before they both headed down to the labs, and with that, they were gone.

You watched as your colleagues left and came back, all indifferent to everything that had happened to them. You sat next to Peter, playing rock paper scissors until he had to go and get his fittings, when you talked to Natasha for a bit. When she was sent down to get her measurements, a wave of anxiety washed over you. You were next, and although you knew your dad wasn't going to see you, you still felt butterflies. Suddenly, Jarvis made an announcement on the speakers. "Miss Stark, Tony and Bruce require your presence in the laboratory."

Sheepishly, you rose from the sofa and said goodbye to whoever had returned from the lab and sat next to you - you hadn't paid attention. Once you got to the lab and opened the door, the only person you saw was Bruce.

"Hey Bruce." He looked up from his computer and smiled at you, rising from his stool.

"Hi y/n. Everything is set up in the next room, go in there and follow what Jarvis says, call me in when you're ready." You didn't reply, but walked to the door on the other side of the lab.

You knew this room all too well; it was the 'personal study' lab. It was more of an empty office than a lab, as it was only double the size of an elevator, but it had a small desk with some stray sheets of paper and pencils on top of it. It was rarely used, but when it was, it was for measurements, fittings, trying on new suits, practically anything that would require privacy. In the centre of the room was a small stool about a foot high. Before you could think anything of it Jarvis piped up;

"Good evening, Miss Stark. Please remove all unnecessary clothing. Do not remove your underwear. Then step onto the stool and await instructions."

Hesitantly, you kicked off your shoes and socks. You pulled your red crop over your head and threw it into the corner of the room, and began unbuttoning your high waisted jeans. You slipped your feat out of the wide leg trousers, leaving yourself in a black t-shirt bra and pants. Sighing, you walked over and stood on the small grey stool, relaxing your shoulders. "Jarvis, tell Dr Banner that I'm ready." You could hear Jarvis speak to Bruce in the lab, and within 10 seconds you hear a knock on the door. You answered, and Bruce walked in, carrying a tape measure and a small piece of paper.

"Are you ready to get started?" He asked, looking up at you. Taking a deep breath, you tried to relax all of your muscles. "Ready as I'll ever be." Bruce set down the piece of paper on the desk and began by measuring your waist, hips, and bust. When he got to your arms, you began to wonder where Tony was.

"How did you convince Tony to let you do my measurements?" You asked, trying to stay as still as possible. Without looking up, Bruce answered.

"I knew he wouldn't buy it if I asked to do only yours, so I did everyone's." He moved the tape measure over to your other arm, briefly jotting down a note on the sheet of paper. "What? You've actually done everyone else's?" He nodded, walking behind you to measure your legs. "It would seem suspicious if I only wanted to take your measurements, and nobody else minded me doing it. I told Tony that he should stay in the lab and start preparing ideas for the suits. He's just gone to make more coffee, that's why he isn't here at the moment. He'll probably be back any minute, though." Nodding, you were plunged back into silence. You didn't mind the awkward silence between you both, as he was family, but you wish you could try and start a conversation to distract you from your worries. Unfortunately, your mind went blank.

Ten minutes later, you were finished, and Bruce told you that you could step down from the stool. Before he left to let you change back into your clothes, he turned around to look at you.

"I know things are tricky, and it's not easy to appreciate yourself, but I just want you to know...we're proud of you. All of us, we love you so much."

You smiled slightly and nodded, and Bruce left.

Once you had out all of your clothes back on, you slowly opened the door back to the lab. There, you saw Bruce typing away at his computer and Tony, sat down at one of the desks, sketching out a suit on a large piece of paper. Tony only noticed you when you were halfway through the lab, and he put down his pencil. "Hey honey, you alright?" He asked, turning his swivel chair to face you. Already uncomfortable by the sight of him, you gave him a quick hug and slowly walked to the exit. "I'm fine, thanks, but I've gotta go for a shower. Talk to you in a bit!" You quickly backed into the corridor and speed walked to the elevator, making your way to the penultimate floor.

The elevator music today was a mix between jazz and swing - a mix that you despised. You took after your father, favouring classic rock over nimby-pimby music like this. When you got to your floor, the doors opened, and you were greeted with your room. Fairy lights and polaroids were strung around your double bed, an array of CD's and books littered across your desks. You were thankful that your room had an en suite, walking into the large bathroom. You ran the water until it was scalding hot, changed out of your clothes, and got in.

You were in the shower for no longer than twenty minutes before you heard, yet again, Jarvis reciting a message to you.

"Miss Stark, Tony is waiting for you in your room."

Groaning, you stopped the water and dried yourself off with a light pink towel. You put on a pair of pyjamas that you had thrown into the bathroom with you, brushed your hair in the mirror, and went back into your room. There, you saw your dad sat on your bed, admiring a CD.

"I'm definitely borrowing this." Tony stated, chucking the Nirvana album he was holding onto the bed.

"What're you doing here?" You asked, plopping yourself on your bed next to him, admiring your father as he scratched at his chin. "Gingey told me you wanted to have a talk, right?" Laughing nervously at the nickname you had coined for Nat when you were only a few years old, you picked at the skin around your fingernails.

"Right. Well, I had a problem, but now it's solved so I'm all good! You should probably go back to the lab now and do some more work." You rushed your words, desperate to get rid of Tony as quick as you could. However, he merely sighed, and sat up straight. He looked at you with an expression that almost literally read "I'm so fucking done with your woke-ass bullshit", which made you feel inferior.

"If you think I'm buying that, then you're definitely not a Stark. Try again, Y/n."

Before he could say another word, you rose from where you were sat. "Y'know, I think I might go and talk to mom about this. It's kind of a girl problem, Pepper will get it. See ya!" You quickly walked to the elevator door, and just as the doors closed behind you, you heard Tony mutter something about Pepper being on a business trip.

Shit.

From the elevator, you jogged down to the common area in hopes to find either Peter or Nat. However, when you arrived, the only person there was Sam, lounging on one of the sofas, scrolling through his phone. Groaning, you went to sit next to him, and rubbed your forehead.

"Hey honey, what's up?" He asked, sitting up straighter. Without looking at him, you shook your head, and replied. "I've had a pretty wild fucking day." Sam quietly laughed but tried to convince you that he was serious, pulling a stern expression.

"Ay, there's no need for that kind of language. Talk to me." He didn't turn his phone off, but placed it behind him on the arm of the sofa. You didn't bother to look and see what was on the screen.

Huffing, you turned around and sat criss-cross applesauce to face him.

"I don't like getting a new suit."

"...that's it?" He asked, frowning slightly. "Yes, that's it. I haven't been feeling like myself lately, and having to get a new suit fitted is just another reminder that my body will never be like every other girls. I'm ugly, I have a bit of stomach, stretch marks, there isn't a-"

"Ugly?" He interrupted, pulling a sour face. You nodded slightly, not knowing what else to say. "Y/n, you aren't ugly. And so what if you have stretch marks, or aren't a size zero? You aren't expected to look like a Victoria's secret model 24/7. Besides, you are beautiful in your own way. You were raised by a group of superheroes who save the world every week, you have the smarts of Tony Stark, the fierceness of Natasha and the morals of Captain America himself. Your body doesn't define your self worth, and it doesn't define who you are."

You were slightly taken aback by how good Sam was with words, but you gave him a small smile anyway.

"You should write poetry." You said, giggling slightly.

"Get your ass out of here before I push you out of the window, just for that comment." Laughing even more, you stood up and walked over to the door.

"And y/n," Sam added as you turned around, "go talk to Tony about this. He'll be pleased to hear it."

Pleased? Your dad would be pleased to hear that you're cripplingly self conscious of your body? Not focusing too much on the thought, you walked over to the elevator.

"Jarvis, where's Tony?" You asked, walking into the lift. Jarvis's voice was soon to reply.

"Tony is in Miss Stark's bedroom." Sighing, you pushed a button on the lift, and leaned back against the cool metal.

"Of course he is."

The elevator doors opened to reveal Tony on one side of your room, his back to you, admiring your shelf packed with books. He didn't have to turn around to know that it was you in the elevator.

"I find it slightly offensive that you can talk about it with Sam but not with me." You stalked over to your large white bed and threw yourself on it, staring at the plain ceiling above you.

"Talk about what?" You asked, looking over at your father. He walked over to the beanbag beside your bed and gently sat down on it. "Your feelings, opinions, thoughts, normal teenager stuff." He had a look on his face, as if he knew everything that was going on inside your head.

"How do you know what I talked to Sam about?" You questioned, sitting up on your shoulders.

"Jarvis picked the entire thing up, I was listening through my phone."

"Oh..." you couldn't be angry at Tony, he was your dad after all. You didn't mind him listening to what you had to say, but you wish you had the bravery to do it face-to-face.

"Listen, I know how it feels to be a teenager, and to have your parents expect too much from you. But your looks don't matter at all to Pep and I. They don't matter to anybody else, either. You have a great personality, and an even better mind, so don't feel like your looks are everything." Nodding, you stood up and walked to where Tony was sat on the beanbag. Offering a hand, you helped him up and stood directly in front of him.

"We love you, y/n. Peter loves you, I love you, Pepper loves you, all of the avengers love you. You just need to try and learn to love yourself." You saw a glint in his eye, recognizing the sincerity behind his words. He pulled you in for a hug and rubbed your back, letting you know that you were safe in his arms.

Maybe today wasn't as bad as you expected it to be.

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milkttea · 4 years

Text

Sunny Days

Jungkook x Reader, GN!Reader: one shot

:: fluff, ex-friends to slow lovers

:: warnings: none

Edited: 1/2/20

"Look at the bright side of life and the bright side will look at you. The reflections we send out always return." — Ron Baratono

For the Sunny Days, which bring you joy.

Sunny days were your favorite, they reminded you of your childhood. Now, by all means, your childhood wasn't the best, it had its ups and downs as life does, so it wasn't too bad, nor was it wonderful and like how Disney movies portray life.

However, there was one person in your childhood that made your life so much more amazing. You haven't seen him in years, not since his family moved away. It saddened you because you were best friends, platonic soul mates, you did everything together.

Jeon Jungkook, your best friend since diapers and the boy who you loved since middle school. He also is the boy who left you behind and didn't talk to you at all since he moved away. Kind of makes you bitter, but it has been roughly nine years so you kind of let it go. The feelings never really left though, even after one boyfriend and one girlfriend, who are now your closest friends.

People assume it's weird to be friends with your exes, best friends even weirder, but you believe it's only weird if you let it be. You three constantly joke about it, you were young and we're looking for companionship and tried to find that in relationships, but you found it better this way.

This is where you found yourself in your dorm with said best friends.

"I'm just saying, mixing a bunch of bread dough and then baking it would be amazing!"

"Jimin, do you ever sleep?"

"My eyes close when I sneeze, does that count?"

Seulgi deadpans and contemplates her mortality as she looks at Jimin as he continues on his rant about bread. You walk in at this moment as he has both his feet on the wall, upside down, and Seulgi is about to throw her water bottle at him.

"I leave for two minutes to get ice and Seulgi almost murders you Jimin, are you going on your bread rant again?"

Jimin jumps and hugs you, tackle really, onto the floor as he complains how you took too long, he was pretty clingy, but it's cute on him. The ice you went to get rattles violently in the container, thankfully nothing falls out since you closed it tight because you anticipated this. He finally lets you up after Seulgi flicks his ear telling him how you're being suffocated and that ice will melt. She was right, you were laughing so hard it was getting hard to breathe and you hadn't had asthma, even after doing cross country for three years in high school, and you sure as hell were not trying to get it now.

"Sorry about that, oh you'll never guess who I saw when I was going into class," he brushes you off as a little bit of dust was in your hair, mentally making a note to vacuum later. You raise an eyebrow at this, you really couldn't guess, you knew quite a bit of people even if they weren't close friends.

Jimin, realizing you weren't gonna answer, suggestively wiggled his eyebrows.

"Does the name Jungkook ring a bell?"

You screamed.

Seulgi and Jimin both laugh at your panicked expression. Meanwhile, you were having a minor panic session, you didn't want to see him again, even if you missed him! It's been 9 years, he probably doesn't even remember you and that would be even worse. Guess it's time for you to live out your life long dream of being a hermit, oh how the tables have turned in your favor.

"Yes, the name rings a bell," you hissed, "why do I get the feeling you're going to force an interaction between us?"

He smiles innocently, but you know it's anything but that as you hear three knocks on the door. Your eyes widen so much, Seulgi fears they may burst out of their sockets.

"Jimin you didn't."

"Oh didn't I?"

He opens the door, "Jungkook!"

You run away into your room and lock the door, meanwhile, Jungkook looks at where your form used to be in concern and surprise. That doesn't happen often to him, even if he is pretty shy around girls they mainly run towards him not away. Now if you're wondering, is there a possibility that your first love and ex-girlfriend will get together? Seulgi is a raging lesbian and she has a girlfriend, happily together for 4 years. There was no concern there, besides she was about the spring the big question on her and you couldn't wait because their families were both so supportive.

Anyways, you were hiding under your covers as Jimin and Jungkook moved past that brief moment and start talking about whatever it is they started talking about earlier in the day, probably classes. Seulgi, ever the loving friend, opens the door to your room with the key on top of the door frame and drags your ass out of bed, literally dragging you out and bringing you by hand to the living room where both boys were talking about how the homophobes were at their worst again.

"Those sleazy rats are working hard, but I work harder!"

Jungkook laughs at Jimin's declaration, oh how you've missed his laugh. Deciding to be the bigger person, you flick Jimins forehead, gaining Jungkook's attention as you begin apologizing for running away like that, meanwhile, Jimin tries to get up and tackle you but you have your knee on his groin and stomach. It does a pretty good job of preventing him from doing anything.

Jungkook, internally, is screaming because you have aged so finely he is convinced you aren't real. You're very different from the sixth grade you who was too shy to even talk to boys aside from him and looking at you now he would have never guessed this would happen. You stop talking once you realize that he's just staring at you with his mouth slightly open, your face flushes a bit at his stare so you boldly flick his forehead and tell him to shut his mouth before a fly goes in.

"You haven't that much (n/n), still flicking people on the forehead," he rubs his forehead after stating that. You, on the other hand, are the one now with your mouth open, he remembers you? Your shock, however, is quickly replaced with annoyance and anger because he remembers you. All those years and he didn't once try to get into contact with you? What happened to being friends forever, always being there for each other even if you were far away, you weren't mad, no you were livid. That was quickly noticed by him as your expression went from shock to anger and then blank.

Any emotion you felt was immediately muted as you went to the kitchen to get yourself and Seulgi some food, the aforementioned person going with you and you both talking normally. She knows when to not ask about certain things and let you handle your problems and this was one of those times. Jungkook, on the other hand, was very confused as to what he did wrong. He'd never been on the receiving end of your anger and if he remembers you at all, whenever you get that blank look you are pissed beyond recovery. The room began to feel tense after that so he decided to head out and finish his college work, he thanked Jimin who has been silent the entire time that this exchange happened, and left closing the door silently.

You didn't even glance at the door, everything continued as normal after telling off Jimin a little bit, he understood and apologized immediately and the three of you ate ice cream and had a day in for the rest of the day. You all thankfully had a day off from work and had finished your classes already.

Days after the events that unfolded in your dorm, you walked through the hallways of your college in search of another close friend of yours since you'd made plans with him to go out for coffee and study for your shared classes. You walked into his class right as he finished packing and was conversing with another student, their back to you when he noticed you and waved you over.

"(N/n)! Over here!"

The student he was talking to flinched when he heard your nickname, you paid no mind to it though. You instead, chalked it up to Taehyungs loud voice when he yelled you over, the poor person was right in front of him and his booming voice. Once you neared where they both were, Taehyung decided to ask you about his friend.

"Heeyyy," at this you blanked at him, already knowing he would ask you something, "do you think that it'd be alright to bring along my friend and roommate," he gestures to the person in front of him," with us for coffee? He doesn't get the subject very well- ow!"

His friend smacks his arm, you begin laughing at this exchange when you noticed who it is, however, you immediately stopped laughing.

"Come on Kook! Don't just stand there we gotta get going before the lunch rush starts!"

On the walkout, Taehyung and Jungkook conversed about random topics with you walking silently beside them. However, you decided you were being harsh and pretty rude if you were being honest with yourself and that you couldn't hate Jungkook forever. So you decided to begin talking with them both not him directly, but at least contribute and let him know that you didn't completely hate him. You still didn't forgive him though.

Jungkook was ecstatic! Finally, you started talking to him again! Even if it wasn't directed at him, but he would take what he could get. You were his first love, after all, he never had a girlfriend or boyfriend in those nine years that he had been apart from you. He couldn't get over you. It hurt him deeply to not be able to get in contact with you, but he didn't have a phone in sixth grade after he moved and after time he forgot he forgot what your phone number was, or really what your parent's phone number was. Both of your parents were friends, but with the distance that grew between them they weren't as close as before and they weren't able to get together since their schedules made it nearly impossible. It was because of that, that you and Jungkook weren't able to see each other, especially since you were busy and focused solely on your school work and weren't able to spend time with your friends.

Jungkook was so glad he was able to finally move back to your shared hometown, he never forgot about you even after all these years. To be at the receiving end of your anger though? It broke his heart, and if he were honest after the days of not seeing you since being invited by Jimin to your dorm the only thing that he found that could have angered you was him not speaking to you for nine years. What an idiot he was for thinking that you could just be friends again after all this time and that you wouldn't be mad at him, he knows he would have! Once he came to this conclusion he smacked himself in the face, scaring his roommate Taehyung, until he explained why he did so.

That's the reason why the three of you currently sat in your favorite cafe. You drank your (f/d) as Taehyung mumbled about and you quote: "woes of painting with acrylics."

If he were a dog, you could picture his ears drooping as he whined out, "it dries so fast! Not to even get into the fact that it's so hard to blend!"

His pouting, you had to admit, was pretty adorable and you let out a giggle hiding your mouth. Jungkook noticed this and his cheeks flushed so much you would have thought that his face would have exploded. Upon noticing this, you could feel his stare, your face flushed even more than his and you tried to hide it by taking a sip of your drink, failing to hide it you might add.

Taehyung, for as silly as he seemed, was very observant and he remembered his friend and roommate's dilemma, so he stood up, gathered his things, left $10 for the waiter for his food and drink, then came up with an excuse to rush out.

"Loved hanging with you both! But forgot about an appointment I had to water my plants! So gotta do this again but gotta go don't wanna disappoint the plants y' know? Ok bye!"

With that he rushed out so fast you would think he was being chased by a rabid dog. You and Jungkook both just sat there, mouths open because you've never seen Taehyung move that fast before in the four years you've known him. Jungkook awkwardly clears his throat, getting your attention immediately and he nervously smiles as you just stare at him, waiting for him to say something. What you weren't expecting though was:

"I'm sorry."

You were blown back a little from surprise and your eyebrows went up.

"I- what?"

He nervously bit his lip and looked down, took a deep breath, then looked you in the eyes with such raw emotion on his face.

"I'm sorry for not getting in touch with you after I moved or during the years where we didn't see each other. I regret not trying harder to get in touch and not visiting sooner or trying to get my parents to visit. I hate myself for not trying harder to be your friend, your best friend. I meant it when I first met you when I said that we always be friends. I've never forgotten about you, I never will forget about you and I understand you're angry, sad, annoyed at me and that's valid. I would feel like the luckiest guy in the world if you would give me the honor of being your friend."

After his little speech, he was breathing hard having done it in one breath and you were just sitting there shocked with tears in your eyes because this is all you wanted. Of course, you were mad at him, you were sad and annoyed, but the sadness is what stayed all these years and to hear the man you love- you're best friend apologizes for his mistake really melted your heart and you almost forgave him on the spot, but you had something to say too.

"I'm sorry too, Jungkook. But… do you know how hard it was to not have my best friend there at all to help me when I needed you the most? It hurt so damn much, I'm glad that I had Seulgi, Jimin, and Taehyung there when you weren't. Even so, I should have tried harder to get in touch too and there is no way that I could say sorry for not trying and I hope you would find it in your heart to forgive me. I forgive you and I would also love to have the honor of being your friend again. Your best friend, again."

With both your confessions and apologies out in the open, there was a moment of silence as you both realized you could never really be mad at each other. Both of you paid for your meals, gathered your belongings and left the cafe into the sunny outside. You spent the rest of the day catching up on what had happened in each of your lives for the past nine years.

"No way! There's is no way you broke Namjoon's nose while playing Wii sports!"

Jungkook laughs at your flabbergasted face and laughs such a boisterous laugh that his head tilts back and he lets out such a beautiful laugh you could live in it forever and grins so wide his face might split.

"I swear on my mom's cooking! I'm surprised he didn't kick me out if the house! He said that it was karma for him breaking my phone in my sophomore year in high school!"

As you both continued walking, his hand slipped into yours which caught you by surprise. All you did though was entwine your fingers with his and continue walking back to the dorms.

The sun shined a little brighter that day and as you both went your respective ways to your dorms after a long day, there was only one thought in both of your heads as you went to bed.

'I love Sunny Days.'

#bangtan #bts fic #jungkook #jungkook x reader #fan fiction #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts

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transparentheartz · 2 years

Note

day 12, time is flying by! i'm in work tomorrow for the first time in a while so that'll be fun! hope you've had a good week!

hopefully! i already have tickets for louis, yungblud and 5sos so i'm happy out, as long as covid behaves.

you should be so proud of yourself for getting the job then! especially since it was so far out of your comfort zone. that's good that school at least became more bearable, i think it is something we have to grin and bear unfortunately :((

math was horribly bad, i can't imagine not feeling comfortable enough to ask for help, if i wasn't asking the teacher i was making my friend go over the problem with me.

its so hard to keep friends as well as make them, i always find i'm the one holding on when they've clearly moved on... i'm trying to go day to day enjoying interactions instead of building a friendship which might be a bit sad but expectations are such a let down. you still made three friends through college even if you don't talk anymore, that's not easy to do! I'm 12 weeks in and only now making friends.

tomlinshaw is filled with angst so i love it but i never paid nick any attention in real life either. that fic sounds cool! i've never read one with alternative endings.

yeah the permanacy of tattoos is a bit frightening, i have a small one on my hip, which i do love but i wish the placemnet was slightly different so i can see how you could regret them.

do!! i'd love to hear about your sisters!! there's not much of an age gap at all!

i adore it too, even though i never finished the last season, the first few are the best, especially 3b. i'm gonna have to say Stalia... i just really really loved the development of their relationship, it was so good.

i need to listen to more bea miller, i'll add her to my monthly playlist this month!! i'm currently obsessed with renforshort whose touring with yungblud, her music and lyrics are incredible.

ahahah that was my primary school with the tin whistle, it was so messy.

i'm sorry you're anxiety was that bad :(( you have a job now though!! which is great! if you get your degree that's great but only if you can do it without too much strain on yourself mentally

i wouldn't say it has, i don't really do failing myself, the only thing i failed was my first driving test and it was so shitty but kinda common so i decided it's okay i guess

i'd love to eventually be an author, that's the plan!! but i think i'll look for a job in publishing just to have stable income and all, but goal is to write!

i love it when you click immediately with a person!! there's nothing better! and also that you managed to stay friends is so lovely, i have loads of friends i wish i could've made more of an effort to stay in touch but life happens. i'd say yous also talk loads online too!

random qs but

do you dream in colour or black and white?

if you could name your aesthetic what would it be?

also fav louis era?

bit weird qs but i wanted it to be a bit of fun i guess??

hope you have a great saturday sorry for the late reply!!

- your ss <33

hii!

hope work is good for you tomorrow. my week was long and i'm very tired but i don't have a day off until tuesday so :/

nope i suffered in silence, i hated asking questions.

it's okay, you have to start somewhere when making friends. i'm starting to make some at work :)

the only fic i can remember having tomlinshaw in it that i read is a fic where louis was addicted to pills and went to rehab and nick was his bf and was absolutely horrible to him and harry was louis' best friend and in love with him.

i haven't heard of renforshort i'll check them out.

i choose stalia too, i just don't like how long it took for stydia to get together, like i know it was realistic but i just didn't care for them. and i love malia and stiles dynamic. i lowkey liked sterek too tho ik it was only a fan ship lol.

that sounds fun, idk if i could be an author. writing fan fics are hard enough. have you written any for larry?

i would say shes the only person i connected immediately with and stayed friends with.

i dream in color but i also hardly ever dream and never remember them when i do.

i have no idea what my aesthetic is lol. laidback and frumpy ig

uhh fav louis era would be fetus or hedgehog or whatever era 2015 was, i'm bad at remembering era for the boys, except harry cause it's obvious

hope you had a good day, its okay about the late reply :)

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cutegirlmayra · 7 years

Note

this prompt is VERY au but ive had this for a while , and ive always wanted to see u write it: okay so amy & sonic haven't seen each other for a while bc shes been away studying or something & when she comes back shes more mature & understands the concept of personal space xD and sonic gets a bit upset bc shes not paying him much attention like she used to or maybe he can get jelly of someone!! its okay if u dont want to but ur writing is soooo good i would just love to see it !! ur the best!

Actually, I wanted to do a fanfiction on this idea of Amy leaving for a ‘monastery retreat’ where they promise enlightenment. She leaves a letter and purposefully states she’s not saying where she’s going until she’s found ‘inner peace’ with herself. She goes on the journey that tests her, then gets a job when she realizes the retreat needs to be paid for. She works for some cruel tavern people and gets swindled/con’d. She stands up for herself and gets the money back (by/with some force, lol). She is selected by a teacher who is usually very picky about his students, an armadillo who is infamous for whacking his students with his long stick to train them.

After all this, he teaches her ‘self control’ and ‘balance in her chi’ or whatnot.

I’m starting this concept off after Sonic receives many letters/postcards with different buildings and locations from the mountain she’s at. He takes out the photos, and one by one, races off to each landmark till he finds the mountain and finds her.

Prompt:

Sonic sped forward till halting and slightly wagging from the left over momentum as he looked up at the monastery.

Moving his mouth to the corner of his muzzle, he then pulled out the last postcard Amy sent him, and held a finger up to his chin, tapping his pointer finger to see if it matched.

Yep, definitely.

He looked over, “And that must be the tavern that treated her so poorly.” he put the photo away, but never took his eyes off of it.

“Time to teach them some manners when it comes to rooming guests.” Sonic adjusted his gloves, and smirked, knowing he was gonna cause some mayhem before saying hello to Amy. (his form of justice, he really didn’t like how she described how they treated her.)

After being the most annoying and stuck-up snob the tavern had ever known, they tried to kick him out, even if he did have rings, he wasn’t going to pay them, and fought his way out scott-free.

He chuckled to himself, before looking up at the monastery again. “Check.” he seemed to mentally be checking something off a list, and then threw a ring back at a dog-pile of beaten up men, all having their eyes spin around in their dizziness.

Sonic raced up the monastery before leaning over a counter, smiling charmingly to the woman present.

“Hey.”

“Hello.” the woman gave him a cold look up, and continued to look at her scrolls.

“…Eh-heh.” Sonic smiled nervously, seeing she looked a bit stingy. He straightened himself out, “Is there an Amy Rose that goes here?”

Her face suddenly shifted, and she immediately threw up a cane, pointing it directly at him. “I HATE THAT GIRL. DO YOU KNOW HER!? ARE YOU HERE TO TAKE HER AWAY!?”

Sonic put his hands up, “Y…yes?” he raised an eyebrow, amazed someone could hate Amy… w-well, maybe not THAT amazed, but..

“Oh good~” she suddenly looked cheery and her age, putting her hands together and up by her cheek. “Right this way~” she swished her black cat tail and gestured for him to follow her.

She smirked as they walked into the inner arena, within the walls of the ancient ground.

Sonic peeked over, “Ah!” He was amazed to see two girls battling, one was..

“Amy!”

“Pfft. I’ll admit, she’s improved.” the girl rolled her eyes. Was that a hint of jealousy?

Amy rolled to dodge a girl holding a stick with two spiked knifes tied to the ends of it.

She got up quickly to duck from another swipe before the girl jabbed, and she had to lean away, holding her hammer with both hands.

“Woah!”

Her sensai watched safely away, placing a hand slowly on his staff. “…Focus… Right foot… now!” he muttered to himself, but Amy couldn’t hear him.

Amy leaped to the right side, as if dodging a hint that she was predicting. (He would have naturally hit her with his staff on her ankle if this was training so she’s used to expecting a staff hit xD)

She jumped from her hands and did a few back-flips, before positioning herself again and waiting…

Sonic was slightly confused. Amy’s one to charge in headstrong, but now she’s being..

patient?

She then saw the girl charging her, shouting out a battle cry, as Amy innocently looked up, and seemed calm before looking back down.

She jumped and did the splits, as the girl whammed her face into the wall behind her, and looped her hammer over a wall decoration.

She waited a second in the air for the girl to lean back, holding her face.

She then fell on the girl and whacked her out.

“Winner! The Reformed Rose!”

Amy got up and giggled, thinking the nickname funny since the first time she got here, and then looked up.

Her smile and waving completely halted, as her eyes fixated…

On her favorite shade of blue.

Her master looked confused, before following her eyesight with his own. He gasped, picking up his long stick. “Oh no.” he quickly rushed to where Sonic was.

Amy raced up with acrobatic skills to him.

While keeping her pace, her master kept looking over to her, worried. “Remember your training, remember your training!” he kept muttering, as finally they both made it up to the final wide ring of the arena, and Amy, in her monk attire, held the biggest open smile on her face, panting from her effort to get all the way up here after a battle like that.

Sonic stepped back, as the counter-girl just glared and ‘hmph’d, folding her eyes and giving Amy a snake-eye, then turning away.

“You’re so-called ‘boyfriend’ is here to take you away.” she left then, fanning her arrogant hand behind her.

Sonic hadn’t seen her in months, and this new look… she definitely had grown. Did he miss a birthday?

Her figure was more built, and her muscles, a bit a intimidating…

Amy was about to cry out his name, before her master whacked a stick to her head and she rubbed it hard, looking to him.

“Restrain yourself…” he eyed her cautiously, as if squinting a warning.

“This will be your final test of all your training. Fail it. And you will not be leaving this monastery.” he warned her, and slammed his staff’s end down, nodding his final statement.

“W-wai-wait a minute there…” Sonic held his hands out, as Amy’s whole body suddenly shifted to them, as if longing to be in them again…

“Uhh..” he held his hands back, seeing her reaction. He knew she’d have withdrawals… but not this bad. “I think we may have to change that ruling a bit.” Sonic scratched behind his head, then looked to Amy.

“Amy, Cream and the others have been worried sick about you.” he lightly spoke to her, arching his eyebrows back to show tenderness, and gesturing to try and entice her to come back. “We’ve all been wondering where you’ve been. Now that I’ve found ya, I plan on taking you back so they won’t have to miss you anymore.”

Amy was still fixated on the way he lovingly said her name, but then heard about her dear friends and looked shocked to hear that, before guilty and bending her ears down.

“Oh, S-”

“Ehem.”

Amy flinched, expecting a staff, but realized her master only gave her a light warning. She was forbidden to say his name…

“..My… friend.” she twitched an eye down, before taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “I would love to go back. But I have to receive permission from my sensai.” she gestured lovingly to her master, who kept his eyes shut, but motioned his head up high, showing status.

“Your sensai?” Sonic narrowed his eyes to the old man, and folded his arms. “You mean this geezer with the long mustache and goatee?”

Like a statue, her master did nothing.

She freaked out though, bending her arms to guard herself but he did nothing to retaliate.

“You would do good in training somewhat in your mouths formation of words as well, boy.” He stuck a piece of his sticks cut off small branch into his ear, wiggling it around. “I could barely hear the insult you said.”

Sonic twitched an eyebrow, this man could dish one back just the same.

Sonic smiled though, liking the fight in him.

He was impressed and held out his hand. “Sonic. Sonic The Hedgehog.”

“I know who you are.” The man moved the hand to the side, before walking to the ring.

Sonic looked confused, before shrugging to Amy, who lightly nodded an apology before turning to her master.

“If you wish to truly see if you’ve mastered all I have to teach you… you must fight your love in the arena!” he spread his arms out, as the crowd suddenly hushed and the battle happening below stopped.

“W-what?!” Amy was shocked. “B-b-but Master!”

“Your speaking back!” He swung his stick into her gut, as she whinced a minute in pain before motioning her fingers around to harness any noise and keep it together.

“No, … M-master.”

“Hmph. Good.” He removed the stick and nodded.

“Amy!” Sonic’s hand went to her, but the master’s eyes shone with a spark and he hit them away from her.

“O-ow! Hey!” Sonic held his hands and glared at the old man. “You know, some could call this abuse!”

“Heh. He is your friend, isn’t he?” The man smiled, knowing she had said the same thing.

Amy got up, shaking a head to Sonic. “You can’t touch me. Cause I’m not allowed to touch you.”

Sonic’s head flung back to him. “W-what?” he blinked a moment, before trying to put to and to together. “Amy… you’re not.. a literal monk, are you?”

She flinched, “WHAT?! NO! I’m not a nun!”

“O-oh…phew~” He was glad he wasn’t THAT late…

“To the arena with you!” The master had skillfully maneuvered himself behind the two, and with one fell swoop of his staff, pushed the two off the ring as they fell towards the arena.

Amy used her hammer to help Sonic spin away, and then flipped and pushed off landings to roll down safely as well.

“Oh! Sonic are you al-!” She cupped her hands over her mouth, about to rush towards him before a staff thrust itself in front of her and stopped her progression.

She realized her mistake and bowed to it, before letting the access energy from Sonic’s presence being there out through training drills, punching around herself and shouting out battle cries before returning to inner peace…

“I am more than my affections… alright!” she prepared for battle. “If I can defeat you, S- I mean!” she shook her head. “My friend. Then I can go home with you!”

He was irritated that someone was forcing her to not even say his name. But then also pushing such limitations onto himself.

He cracked his knuckles, and started to stretch. “Very well, Amy. If I have to fight you, then I won’t go easy on ya.” He then smirked, getting ready. “But not being able to touch me won’t be very easy… I’m fast, you know.” he winked.

“Begin!”

He charged around her in a circle, and she closed her eyes to sense him, before swinging her hammer up to dodge a fast on-going, bullet frenzy of blue.

‘Heh, so she’s learned to listen and wait it out, huh?.’ Sonic looked amused, stopping then and then walking towards her.

“What else have you learned?”

She smiled, seeing he was having fun with this.

He jumped to fake a kick down, before swinging his other leg and hitting her to the side.

She caught herself quickly as he went for a punch, but was able to block and then slide her hammer under his ankle, pinning him and then looking apologetic.

“Sorry.” she squinted her eyes as she bonked him on the head.

“Ow! Ooohhh, almost missed that…” his eyes spun a moment, but he shook it out.

“Heh.” he reached up and grabbed her arms.

“Ah!”

Her master narrowed his eyes.

“Got’cha!” Sonic rolled back on his spine and kicked her over him, getting back up as the crowd cheered.

The sensation of Sonic holding her was a lot for Amy, even if it wasn’t a true ‘hold’ she still got up and tried to restrain herself.

“Okay… okay…” she took calming breathes and turned back around.

Sonic watched her struggle, and started getting upset.

What was wrong with Amy hugging him?

‘I’m more than my affections…’

She had said that, right?

He glared up at her master, who returned the look to him.

“What has he been teaching you…” Sonic lost trust then, even if the man had witty comebacks, if he had brainwashed his friend to believe that touching him or even saying his name was bad…

Unforgivable.

Amy, after seeing him not moving, decided to go for it.

She held her hammer high up by her shoulder, and leaped from one side ot the other, “Here I gooo!!!”

Sonic turned with a calm expression, looking seriously to her.

She suddenly saw him not move and halted her attack, stopping in front of him.

Her master rose his head, eyeing Sonic’s next move.

“S-So-I-I mean! Friend..?” she blinked her eyes, not sure what he was doing.

“Sonic.” He almost bit down on his teeth while saying it. “And I’m not playing this game anymore…”

He walked over to her, as she stepped back slightly, lowering her hammer.

“W-what are you-?”

He embraced her, and held her close.

The crowd gasped, as the master moved himself to the ring’s railing, and waited… patiently…

Amy’s whole being twitched.

She wanted to just smoother him with affection, kiss him over and over, and hold him tighter and tighter!

Her hands moved to hold him back, before stopping.

She had learned so much… about herself, love, and freedom… about inner peace and self-reliance.

She even learned that her own feelings could be managed, and that it’s better to discipline them than let them run amok.

She did touch him, but only to pull him away.

With a kind smile, she closed her eyes, and tilted her head. “I missed you too, Sonic. I’m glad I get to see you again.”

Her master jumped down as Sonic’s approving smile turned to a frown of protection, and he moved his hand over Amy and pulled her behind him.

“Amy’s coming with me!”

He walked forward, head down. “I know she is. Because she won.”

The two blinked for a moment.

“W-wha?” Sonic seemed more startled by that then Amy, as she moved passed his protective arm and over to her sensai, bowing low for him.

“Forgive me, Sensai.”

“No. You’ve done all I expected you to do.” he bowed to her, as the crowd gasped, and she leaned up, shocked.

“M-master!”

“You’ve conquered your emotions, tamed them, and held your being with dignity and every grace a woman can procure.” he leaned up, smiling kindly to her, showing he really did care for his pupil. “You’ve surprised me. Even with great temptation, you valued your new found strength and knowledge more than the cardinal demands of the body. You’ve mastered both body and spirit… and now, you’re heart.” he put his hands together, his staff resting on the crook of his arm, as if showing he wasn’t going to discipline her anymore.

“You may leave… with Sonic.” he nodded the permission of her to speak his name. “And even hug him if you’d like.”

Suddenly, Amy squee’d as all her energy burst from her, and she was about to tackle into Sonic. “SOONNICC-OOFFHP!”

His staff had masterfully slammed into her tailbone, as he glared a moment before pulling it back.

“Don’t let old habits own your new found success… Rose.”

“Y-..Yes, Sensai.” she realized he wasn’t going to let her slip on her training either.

The two left the wide, Asian gates as Amy left with her old red dress, but a sash around her waist with decorative beads hanging down one end of it, showing she was a master monk now. She giggled as it made her dress stick down, and then held Sonic’s arm.

“Shall we?”

Sonic smiled, before pulling her closer and seeming okay with the intimacy. He scratched his nose as some men from the tavern recognized him, and saw who he was with, and fled crying out for mercy.

Amy blinked her eyes in confusion, raising an eyebrow, before looking over to Sonic with suspicion.

He shrugged and chuckled nervously, before scooping her up and taking off.

“Ah! I missed this!” Amy cried out, as Sonic looked down, unamused.

“W-what?” she saw something was troubling him and wondered what on earth it could be. “too tight?” she loosened her hands from his neck, before completely moving them off. “S-sorry.” she looked away.

“…Not tight enough.” he motioned his head down, seeming upset.

Her smile grew wide, and she giggled as she put her arms back around him, and moved her head up. “Hehe, I think I like having you ask for it, now~” she cooed, winking to him as he rolled his eyes.

“I’ll admit. It’s nice to actually have you act grown up for once.”

“Why you-! Hmph!” she puffed up her cheek and looked away. “I don’t have to get angry at those foolish comments anymore.”

“Haha! I’m free! No more hammers!” he jumped and clicked his heels together.

“Oh, Sonic!”

“Say my name!”

“Sonic?”

“One more time!”

He giddily danced off as she laughed, chanting his name and clapping as he really did seem happy to have her back, new and improved, with some of her old habits still being wanted and liked, so it seemed~

“I appreciate the restraint. But you can still hug me.. j-just not randomly or in the middle of something… alright?”

“Now look whose making the rules…” Amy pouted.

“But no hard sticks included!”

They laughed.

(hope that’s what you wanted >w

#sonamy #sonicxamy #amy rose #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sonamy prompt #sonic prompt

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