#/ but girl has ballerina legs ( just not ballerina feet anymore thank god )

[eiiskonigin]

@flightofaqrow: skin, legs

skin hcs are over here !!

Winter may not be tall, but the woman is all legs.

She has long legs, most often kept hidden away beneath her uniform; should you get the chance to see her in a dress or without pants, you'll come to find that her muscle is well-toned. From the years of strict dance lessons and performances, and into her training as a huntress, her legs are likely the strongest part of her body.

( look i'm not saying she could crush a man with her thighs, but i am saying it wouldn't be the worst way to go )

It's not difficult to find the elegant dancer that still lives in her, should you watch the way she moves. Her steps are even, made with a confidence that she sometimes lacks internally. Her gait is often light on her feet, rarely making too much noise as she moves around. Always keeping that balance that she worked so hard to find.

Winter actually finds that her legs are an attractive feature of hers, and tends to show them off on those rare occasions when she needed to get dressed up. A dress with a long slit to show off her calves and perhaps a sneak of her thigh is not entirely uncommon -- though she does this more for herself than with any intention of enticing someone.

Edit to add because I forgot: She is particularly attentive to ensuring she doesn't have hair on her legs. Perhaps this stemmed from the years of dance and being observed and looked at under a microscope, but it's grown to simply be her preference. She doesn't put much thought into whether other women have much body hair -- doesn't consider it her place to give preferences for those sorts of things -- but she prefers to keep her legs smooth.

let's get physical ( features )

[candy-and-writing]

What A Triple Lutz Can Do

Dark! Bucky x Ice Skater! Reader x Dark! Steve

Summary: Steve and Bucky have found each other again, after everything they've been through. When Steve meets you at the Winter Olympics, he decides you're the perfect little doll for their plan.

Warnings: non con/dub con, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, male masturbation, pet names—kitten, oral sex (female and male), fingering, poly relationship (m/m/f), somnophilia, light bondage, more to be added as the story goes on

A/N: This is loosely based off @henchry​ post about Chris Evans dating an ice skater. I read it and instantly had this idea, I’ve just never posted it. I think I unintentionally used bunny by @buckybarney​ as inspiration in making final edits. They also helped me figure out how to make this moodboard, so thank you! Please let me know if you enjoyed this, I had a lot of fun writing this!

I am NOT responsible for your media content consumption. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and/or dark themes. By reading this work you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party app or website; if you are seeing this work anywhere other than tumblr and archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

Before the war, before Bucky had fallen off the train and Steve crashed into the ice, before the Avengers and before and the world made Steve Rogers harder—colder—he liked to call himself a hopeless romantic. He wanted to meet eyes with someone across a diner and feel the fireworks explode in his chest. He wanted to buy a girl flowers, he wanted to walk down the streets of Brooklyn while it was snowing with her hand warming his. He wanted to buy his girl a ring, he wanted to get married, have a family.

He thought he would get that with Peggy, but he missed his chance. When he woke up in another century, he thought for sure he would never get his happily ever after. The women today were so. . . brash. A lady was supposed to be kind, polite, and dutiful. He understood that times were different, but that shouldn't excuse the ungrateful attitudes.

Then he found Bucky again, and the crazy world he had been forced into didn't seem so hopeless anymore. 

Tony had received a call from the International Olympics Committee, formally inviting the Avengers to the Winter Olympics. They were in Italy this year, Milan and Cortina. It was the first Olympic Games to be held in two cities, according to Bruce.

The committee had asked Steve to conduct the medal presentations for ice skating and hockey. They wanted Thor to carry the torch for the opening ceremony, but he was off-world and unavailable.

So here Steve was, sitting in the Mediolanum Forum venue next to Sam so he could watch the ice skating events. He figured if he was going to be giving the winners their medals, he should see why they won.

The committee had given the team access to front row seating, and that's where he was when you came out.

You were the third skater, and the first American representative, to take the ice. Your hair was pulled into a braided braid low on the side of your head with a blue flower pinned above the bun. The little dress you wore was modest—the same shade of blue that matched your flower and a sleeveless neckline that connected to a sheer fabric for sleeves and a higher neck, the little flowy skirt stopping in the middle of your thigh. Lines of little jewels dipped along your bust, beads varying in size. You had makeup on, like all the previous girls, but yours was light and glittery—save for the ruby red lipstick, but even that looked classical on you. It reminded Steve of the makeup women would wear back in the thirties.

He was so focused on you that Sam had to elbow him in the ribs to get his attention. He shut his jaw then, listening to the way your name rolled off the commentator's tongue, the syllables lining and matching each other perfectly.

You were twenty-one, and this was your first time competing in the Olympics. You've competed in other national and international tournaments, and you've done good in them if he was understanding correctly. It made an odd sense of pride swell in his chest. You were skating to Disney's Beauty and the Beast.

You moved to the middle of the rink as the announcer informed the stadium who conducted and performed your piece. You had four quads set in your routine, two in the first half and two in the second. It got quiet in the arena as you raised your arm over your head and arched your back like a ballerina. Steve counted five seconds before the music started and you spun around slowly. You started to move your body and—

Oh. Oh.

Steve was sure his jaw had dropped to the floor. The way you moved was bewitching, beautifully languid yet articulate. It was like the music moved through you, coursing through your veins as you made it entirely your own, bringing something so utterly delicate and ethereal out of the melody. You made it show in your body, in your movements.

The first of your quads were coming up, something called a quadruple lutz. Steve didn't know what it was, but when you threw your leg back and jumped, spinning in the air before landing and the crowd erupted into applause, he figured you did it correctly.

Your feet glided across the ice as you skated backward, your muscles tensing—you were preparing for your next quad. You kicked your leg back and used it as momentum to jump, spinning and landing what the commentator called a quadruple flip. The crowd cheered again.

Your expression—the raw focus and determination hiding behind your eyes—was gorgeous. Your crimson lips were parted slightly, eyelids hooded as you brought your head up. The delicate expression, the way your shoulders tensed as you jumped and spun in the air once, twice, three times before you landed gracefully on your toes had the breath leaving his lungs.

It was art. You were a work of art. So beautiful he wanted to lock you behind a glass cage and put you on display. You commanded the ice as if you controlled it, with such a degree of intricacy that Steve thought if you jumped high enough or spun fast enough you would grow wings and fly away.

You were in your element. You kicked your foot back before bringing it forward, using it to start your jump. You spun in the air and landed on one foot, your other leg spread out and leading the twirl you used to end the jump. The stadium cheered, Sam said something about a triple axel.

Steve wished the song lasted forever, wished he could watch you forever, but soon there was a flute trilling and you slowed, circling back to the center of the rink and just like that—your performance was over. The crowd exploded into cheers, throwing flowers, stuffed toys, anything they had in their pockets.

You broke into a smile, your plump lips parting and bringing out your dimples. Steve swooned as you waved to the crowd, bending to pick up a rose. Your gaze met his, and he swore he felt fireworks erupt in his chest. You smiled at him before skating off the ice, hugging a man sporting a red lightweight jacket with the USA logo embroidered on the sleeve, his dark hair slicked back. Steve watched as you smiled at him, not missing the way he stared at your ass as you turned away.

Then, suddenly, you were in first place. Your eyes went wide and you jumped up, hugging the man in the red jacket—Steve assumed he was your coach. He heard your squeal above the rest of the cheers.

Even from where he was sitting, your eyes were bright, brighter than your smile. Steve was proud of you, pride swelled in his chest as he watched you speak with a reporter. His eyes stayed glued to you as you shook hands with the reporter, your coach walking you to the locker rooms. He watched you until he couldn't anymore.

A strange desire pulled at his heart as he pulled his Stark Pad out, looking you in F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s database.

--

After watching your performance every other skater seemed dull, incomparable, to you. The judges must have thought so, too. You stayed in first place, winning the competition.

According to F.R.I.D.A.Y, you grew up in Chicago, but you moved to Manhattan for college. You got a new coach, Adrian Tucker, who was a gold and silver medalist back in the nineties. You're a junior at NYU, majoring in Art History. You have an Instagram, some sort of social media Peter had been trying to convince him to get, and Steve created an account immediately just to follow you. You had pictures of yourself, of friends, of the rink, even a pair of ballet shoes.

So you did ballet, good to know.

The award ceremony couldn't come soon enough. The idea of being closer to you sent butterflies fluttering through his stomach. Ever since he had gotten him back, Steve and Bucky have been talking about settling down—creating a life with a girl and starting a family. But they haven't found the right partner, but maybe. . . ?

When he stood in front of you, he swore he almost stopped breathing. You were gorgeous. Your hair had been taken out of the bun, cascading down your shoulders in loose waves. Your makeup was still done the same, but he noticed light freckles dotting along the bridge of your nose. Your eyes sparkled up at him—good God, you barely stood past his chest—your painted lips parted in a smile as you took him in. He placed the gold medal around your neck, congratulating you. You whispered a small, "thank you, Captain," and Steve felt a spark of electricity jolt down his groin.

Your voice was light, melodic, quiet. You were respectful, something he valued in people, in women. He could almost imagine you posed as the perfect housewife. With the perfect husband—or husbands—with the white picket fence, the kids. He could imagine your belly swollen, the little children running around calling you 'mama'. You were young, right at that age where women would start becoming wives and mothers back in his day. The thought only made his cock harder as he watched you on the platform, waving to the audience with the biggest smile on your face.

As he sat back down next to Sam, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He pulled up Bucky's contact and sent him a picture from your Instagram.

'I think I found her,' he typed.

--

Bucky remembered the first time he realized he was in love with Steve—he was sixteen. He had danced around with plenty of girls already but none of them ever really seemed to stick. He had saved up enough money to spend Steve's birthday at Coney Island, that was the day he made Steve ride the Cyclone, back when he was still skinny. He had bought Steve a hotdog, which a pelican attacked him over. Bucky was crying from laughter, face red and stomach aching, when he looked over at Steve. Something just clicked then.

The past couple of months, Steve and Bucky had been making plans to add a third partner into life. After all this time, fighting Nazis and being mind-controlled and saving the universe time and time again, they both agreed they deserved it—that they deserved a family. They had both been selfless for so long, was it so wrong to want someone to be selfless for them? To want someone soft that could share their love?

Steve and Bucky were great together—the love of each other's lives, in fact—but they shared an overwhelming need to dominate, to control. On and off the field. When they fucked they were ruthless, full of scraping nails and biting teeth. Fingertips that left bruises that lasted for days. They needed someone else, someone they could focus that control on, someone who could take them so gently and lovingly, a way they rarely took each other.

Then he got Steve's text. You were young, and it wasn't hard to find out almost everything he needed to know about you. Steve helped him use F.R.I.D.A.Y to figure out where you live—a small apartment that was close to your college campus. You could walk to class if the weather permitted it. It also wasn't too far from the ice rink you trained at. It was easy for Bucky to find a building across from your suite where they could watch you. You liked to keep your window open, let the sunlight in.

They took turns sitting on the roof of the neighboring building, looking through a pair of binoculars. They would watch you for hours—watch you do simple things like reading. That was Bucky's favorite, the way your lips moved ever so slightly as you read the words on the page. You enjoyed reading horror novels—Steven King, Mary Downing Hahn, an author named Chuck Palahnuik. A worn copy of Bram Stoker's Dracula and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein sat on your bookshelf. At first glance, Bucky never would have pegged you as a horror kind of girl, you were too sweet and too timid. As he continued to watch you through the cameras Steve had him install, though, he saw that you very much liked psychological thrillers. You would watch a show on YouTube about true crime and haunted locations, a couple of amateurs who didn't quite know what they were doing. They were funny, though. Steve and Bucky would watch you laugh as you stared at your phone, smiling to yourself.

You trained at a ballet studio in lower Manhattan, worked out at a gym a block away from that. They were quick to memorize your routine once they started. You'd wake up at five-thirty every morning and make yourself some breakfast. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday's you hit the gym and the studio; you'd go to whatever classes you had that day, grab a coffee at the campus cafe, then head to the skating rink for two hours. Two and a half hours max. You went home, studied, and then you were left to your own devices. Sometimes you read, sometimes you baked and God, Bucky almost couldn't stop drooling at the thought of tasting your cooking. You'd watch television in your small living room and be in bed no later than eleven o'clock every night to start your day again.

One Monday morning, Steve and had followed you to the gym. They'd been doing that the last few weeks. At first, Steve reasoned it was so they could watch over you, in case you got into some trouble. Some mornings they planned on running into you on the sidewalk, pretending it was an accident—there was a flower cart along your route you liked to stop and admire, sometimes buying a bouquet of daisies for your little bachelor pad—but the timing never seemed right. Steve was never wearing the right shirt, or Bucky's hair was always a mess from the wind.

You took a cab, which Steve followed a couple of cars behind on his motorcycle. The air was brisk, the first signs of spring coming into the city. Some of the trees had started growing their leaves again, vibrant greens against the grey winter sky. He parked his bike underneath a plotted tree that had just started to turn, the tips of the leaves a bright green as blossoms began to bloom, pastel pinks against vibrant greens with petals blowing in the wind. He bought a newspaper from a vendor a couple of stores down and sat on a nearby bench, catching up with the world as he counted down the minutes. You would be in there for an hour and fifteen minutes almost exactly.

Steve almost couldn't sit still. He was itching to get his hands on you, to feel you. He and Bucky have been watching you for a long time now, waiting for the right moment to get their hands on you. Steve was growing impatient.

At forty-five minutes, his eyes began to flick up at the building every few minutes. He knew it wasn't time yet, but there was always a chance you got done early.

At an hour, his gaze hovered just above the paper. Ten more minutes, he told himself.

At an hour and twelve minutes, you emerged. Steve watched as you hugged your coat to your chest and began walking. The studio you danced at was only a block away, so you wouldn't have to be out in the cold for long. Still, Steve couldn't help but chastise you for not wearing something warmer. All you had on were a pair of thin leggings—that hugged your ass beautifully, he might add—and a compression tank top under your lightweight sweater.

Steve rushed to his bike, folding the newspaper in his hand and revving up the engine. He drove down the block, parking in front of a cafe across from the ballet studio. He watched you enter the studio and sat at a table, ordering a cup of coffee. He saw you through the floor-to-ceiling windows, your let stretched up over your head. He reached for his sketchbook and pencil, laying it out on the table before him.

The night of the Olympics, the first time after Steve had seen you, he stayed up all night drawing you. He found a video of your performance on the internet, watching it on repeat as he drew you in different positions. The first sketch he did was of you with your arm over your head, just before you started skating. He found he loved drawing the shape of your lips, so the next sketch was a portrait of your face. Your long lashes were hooded, eyes downcast and your lips parted slightly as the pencil scratched against the paper, your plump lips etched in charcoal. The expression Steve caught you in was oddly ethereal, the kind of innocence that Steve found absolutely breathtaking.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Steve sighed, pulling the device out of his jeans. Cursing, he reread the message Sam sent, looking back up across the street. You were still in front of the window, leg propped up on a bar with your upper body reaching for your foot. He sighed, closing his sketchbook as he stomped toward his bike.

--

Steve and Bucky trudged back into the Compound, exhausted and irritated. Not only have they been unable to see you for a week and a half, forced to watch you through the cameras hidden throughout your apartment, but the mission had been a complete bust. They had been sent away to Northern Peru, where Fury had given them intel about a group of HYDRA smugglers shipping illegal weapons into the country. Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky spent twelve days in a cramped, boiling building across from the target's warehouse and managed to find nothing before Fury called them back.

Steve was sweaty, Bucky hadn't taken a shower in a week, and they missed you. Bucky wanted to touch you, he wanted to kiss you until you were breathless. He watched you on his phone when he could, often opting to watch the camera feed than to sleep.

Once they were in their suite, Steve stripped his uniform off, leaving it in a heap on the floor to pick up later. Right now he just wanted to feel clean. He turned the shower on and peeled his boxers off as Bucky undressed, Steve stepping below the showerhead. The warm water felt nice against his taut muscles, his shoulders relaxing under the water pressure. He watched the dirt and grime from the mission get washed away, down the drain in muddy-grey color.

As he massaged shampoo through his hair, his thoughts wandered back to you, fingers itching to run against your skin. The way your lips always looked so soft, how utterly delicious you would look with them wrapped around his cock. The sweet little noises you would make as he forced himself down your throat—you were so small, it wouldn't take much to make you choke on him.

Steve groaned as his fist wrapped around his length. Almost two weeks without imagining you on your knees, imagining your mouth on him and he was oh so sensitive. He cursed, running his thumb over his slit. He pictured your tongue dragging against his girth, your wrecked expression as you struggled to take him deeper, as Bucky struggled to fit himself in behind you. He fisted himself faster, gasping out your name.

"Yeah, baby," he mumbled to himself. "Just like that. Fuck."

He could only imagine how beautiful you would look when you came. Your skin sweaty, hips bucking, your innocent little eyes rolling to the back of your head as you squealed. Oh, you were definitely a squealer. They would make you cum over and over and—

He bit back a moan as he came, hot white spurts coating his stomach as he slowed his movements, nerves on fire. He sighed, rinsing himself off before he turned the water off. He was still hard, he wasn't sure he'd be able to get himself off.

The tips of his fingers buzzed as he redressed himself and Bucky hopped in the shower. Steve didn't know if it was the stress of the mission or the adrenaline you gave him, but he couldn't wait anymore. He didn't have the patience to wait anymore.

He was watching the camera feeds in your apartment when Bucky came out of the bathroom. All it took was one look from Steve—they already had it all planned out, they just had to put it into motion.

--

You struggled to unlock your door, twisting the key in the lock a few times, cursing as you pushed your shoulder against the door, stumbling as the door swung open. You managed to catch yourself before knocking over your vase of daisies, straightening as you waited for your world to stop spinning.

You knew it had been a bad idea when you agreed to go out tonight. You're such a lightweight and after just three shots and half a glass of wine, you're going to have a killer hangover in the morning. God, and it's three a.m. But Annie had begged you to come with them. You haven't hung out with her in so long, you were desperate to see her again. You just wished she hadn't dragged you out to a bar.

You dropped your handbag on your little dining room table, opening the refrigerator to pour yourself a glass of orange juice. You drank half the glass in a couple of gulps, letting out a sigh as you set the glass down. As you moved to pull your phone out of your purse, you heard the floorboards creak, like someone was taking a step.

You froze, looking down the hall. The boards in your bedroom creak like that when you step down on a certain spot, but you've been in the apartment long enough to learn where it is exactly and step around it.

As quietly as you could, you made your way down the hall, checking the bathroom. You've seen enough horror movies in your life to know never to close the shower curtain when you weren't using it, so with a quick glance you knew the room was empty.

Your bedroom was at the end of the hall, the door cracked open. You walked in, carefully looking around. Your closet door was open, the windows were closed, you turned and looked towards your dresser mirror and—

You saw the figure behind you before you could react. Your eyes went wide, their hand coming up to cover your mouth before you could muster a scream. Your hands flew up to the hand, legs kicking out as the intruder dragged you out of your bedroom. You screamed into the hand, thrashing as you felt a sharp prick in your neck.

"It's alright," they cooed. "Shhh, it's okay, doll. You're just gonna go to sleep for a little while, okay?"

You shook your head frantically, tears streaming down your face as you felt your body getting tired. You blinked furiously, trying to fight the sleepy feeling. Your muscles felt like dead weight, you stopped kicking your feet as your grip on the man's cold hand went slack.

"That's a good girl," he crooned. "Just relax, kitten. I'm not gonna hurt you."

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. Your vision blurred, and then everything went black.

[nerdywriter36]

It’s Only the Rain

when there's a thunderstorm in paris, meg is there to calm erik's nerves.

tw: panic attack 

i'm finally writing merik (meg/erik) content!! @ofserien requested this sweet little fluff-filled oneshot, and i'm such a sucker for her merik fic 'only for you' (which you should definitely read, it's amazing) that she got me hooked on the ship, so here we are. enjoy!

FFN

AO3:

~

He had tried to ignore it when it had started; the pitter-patter of the raindrops against the windows of their home had been almost soothing at first, inspiring him as he worked at the latest composition that had been occupying his mind, but when they got stronger and came along with bright flashes of lightning and loud thunderclaps, his anxiety had started to build at an almost exponential rate. He hadn't been able to focus on the sheet music in front of him anymore, his mind flooded with horrid memories of being left to cry alone in his mother's attic while thunderstorms roared outside, longing to be held in a pair of comforting arms and hushed or sung a lullaby, or when he was held captive in a tiny cage, completely exposed to the elements when it rained and the gypsies were staying put for the night. He could still practically feel the cold droplets beating down on him, soaking him to the bone and leaving him with only a chill to remember it by.

When his hands started to shake, he abandoned his composition, stepping out of his study as the room started to feel like it was closing in on him, almost constricting his ability to pull air into his lungs. He didn't want to wake his wife; he knew that Meg would scold him like there was no tomorrow if she found out that he had been struggling so much and didn't say a word, but he hated to bother her; with her work at the Opera House, rehearsing for hours at a time and then having to perform on top of that. And if her suspicions about a pregnancy were true...

He quickly banished that thought from his mind, already feeling it adding to the pounding of his heart. He had reached the parlour and had initially considered just sitting by the slowly dying fire, but the idea of sitting still was not an option anymore. He couldn't sit still when he was in this state, he knew that; that would only allow him to focus on how cold, clammy, and shaky his hands were, and with his wingbacked armchair, it would only make it feel like the room was growing even smaller than it already seemed to be. So pacing was the only option he had and it was the one he would go with.

He paused in that effort for only a moment to lean against the back of the sofa, trying to breathe in steadily through his nose and out through his mouth, but every breath was strangled and shaky, and just when he thought he might have had some semblance of a handle on it, a loud thunderclap practically shook the house. As he jumped slightly, a whimper slipped out of him; god, when was the last time he'd whimpered? He couldn't even recall, but naturally, the situation when that was all he did in the cage he was confined to on stormy nights such as these came to mind. Left in the cold, dark, rainy night, crying and quietly pleading with God to let his mother, as cruel as she could be, simply walk out of the darkness, free him, and take him home.

With a bright flash of lightning that lit up the room, closely followed by another roaring thunderclap, the shaking in his legs finally grew to be too much and he fell to the ground, pressing his back firmly against the back of the sofa as his breaths came in short gasps. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, his mask having been left behind in his study, to try and block out all the stimulation around him, almost as if not seeing the lightning would convince him that it wasn't really there. He realized the fault in his plan, though, when he still heard the roaring thunder, so he immediately pulled his hands away from his eyes to press them over his ears, desperate to keep any sound out that he could, his eyes still squeezed shut all the while. He pulled his knees to his chest and leaned his forehead against them, his breaths coming short and fast as he tried desperately to distract himself, but knowing that it was only inevitable that he would end up hyperventilating more than he already was and then the cold sweat would come followed close by tears and then...

Then there was a gentle touch on his shoulder. It made him flinch, true, but he knew who it was and just knowing that she was there made it even slightly easier to breathe.

"Erik? Erik, take your hands away from your ears," Meg whispered, gently wrapping her hands around her husband's wrists and pulling his hands down when he failed to move on his own. "I'm here, you're okay. Take a deep breath for me."

"I- I can't," Erik choked out, his forehead still pressed against his knees.

"Yes, you can. Everything's okay, just breathe, my love," Meg replied as she sat up on her knees and wrapped her arms around him, gently running her fingers through his hair with the knowledge that that always calmed him if he woke up from a nightmare or suffered from an attack such as the one he was in the midst of.

The warmth of her embrace was exactly what Erik had been dreaming he had had as a boy and it quickly began to calm him; he felt the pounding of his heart start to slow, and within a few minutes, he managed to lift his head to rest it on her shoulder, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he slowly took a breath through his nose.

"There you are, it's okay," Meg whispered, one hand cradling his head to her shoulder while the other gently stroked up and down his back. "Just remember that everything is okay, you're safe. Tell me what you can think of that helps you remember that you're safe, okay? Go through them for me."

For a moment, he couldn't think of any at all, but slowly, all the things keeping him safe in their home came to his mind: "Th-the door is locked, and so are the windows. We have lights so I can see, and have you here."

"Good. I'm glad you mentioned me; you always have to remember that you aren't alone anymore," Meg said, a small smile on her face as she leaned back from their embrace and held his face in his hands, brushing a few stray tears away with her thumbs. "Everything is okay. Nothing's going to hurt you."

Erik nodded slightly, only to flinch when there was another clap of thunder, which moved him to quickly wrap his arms around his wife again to hold her tight.

"Oh, the storm is what's bothering you, okay," Meg said softly, nodding to herself as she began to piece together a plan to help him. "Alright, come on, let's get you up. We'll go sit on the sofa, I'll go make us some tea and I'll put another log in the fireplace to keep it going, alright? Everything's okay."

"Okay. Thank you," Erik whispered, smiling weakly as she pressed a kiss to his cheek before he took her hands as she stood up and let her pull him up to his feet. His legs were still weak and shaky, he could tell, so he draped his arm around her shoulders for extra support. Not that she would be much help if he were to collapse; given their height and weight difference, he could drop like a rock and bring her right down with him.

The two slowly migrated to the sofa and Erik gave his wife a small smile as she grabbed her thick knitted blanket off of the back of the piece of furniture and wrapped it around him. "Thank you," he said again.

"Of course, my love. Now, just stay cuddled up like that. I'll go put on the kettle to boil and be back in just a moment, okay? You'll be alright, won't you?" she inquired.

"I think so, yes. I'll come to find you if I'm not," Erik replied with a slight nod.

Meg nodded and leaned forward to gently kiss his forehead before she padded off towards the kitchen, her steps as light as they always were; what with her ballerina training, he wasn't a bit surprised. He loved how delicate she was, but at the same time, the fact that she could be feisty and fight for herself only made him adore her all the more. Two polar opposites, perhaps, but his wife encapsulated them both and he couldn't be happier about that fact.

That was something he wouldn't mind seeing in their child if they were ever to have one; the more the little girl or boy was like their mother, the better, in his mind. He knew that Meg disagreed and that she hoped they would have a son and that the boy would be just like him in every way, whether that included his practically non-existent face or not, and as much as he didn't want that at all, he tried his best not to smother her dreams; when it came to the baby, so long as she was happy, so was he.

She reappeared by his side without him even noticing, which was the curse that came along with her delicate footsteps, but it always made her giggle when he jumped slightly as she appeared next to him.

"I got you again," she said with a quiet laugh.

"Yes, you did," he replied, a breathy laugh escaping him as she sat beside him. He moved his arm to wrap it around her, pulling her under the warm blanket with him. "Is the tea on?"

"It is, yes. I have some chamomile set aside for you; it'll help you sleep," Meg said softly. "What is it about the storms that are so difficult for you, hm? I know they bother you, especially when they happen at night, but I've never seen you get quite so bad as you were when I walked in."

Erik sighed; he'd known the question as coming, but still had neglected to prepare a true answer. "I have bad memories of them from when I was a boy," he said simply. "They always frightened me, and I...I didn't always have someone there to comfort me when I was afraid, so that fear has stayed with me and has only worsened over the years, as childish as that may be. There are much worse things to be afraid of, but thunderstorms were always difficult."

He heard her sigh quietly before she set her hand on his chest, over his heart; that was something she always did when she was feeling particularly sympathetic for what he'd been through. "I'm so sorry. You deserved so much better," she whispered.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I have everything I could want now because I have you," Erik replied, resting his hand over hers. "And I know that you will always keep me safe, which I never thought I could have before; everywhere I went, I was in danger or exposed to the elements or running for my life. I was still in that position when we met at the Opera House, as hidden as I may have been; at any given moment, I could have been discovered and the gendarmes could have been down in the cellars, arresting me and dragging me off to prison or a much crueller fate. Now, though, I know that I am truly safe with you, ma fleur, and I couldn't ask for anything better."

Another sigh escaped her, but it was quickly followed by a breathy laugh, which Erik quickly discovered the reason for when Meg turned to look up at him and he noticed the tears in her eyes. "This was supposed to be about me stopping you from crying, not you making me start," she said.

"I am merely speaking the truth," Erik replied as he reached up to cup her cheek in his hand. "When I had panic attacks like that as a younger man, I was always alone to cope with them. Well, almost always; I had Nadir in Persia to guide me through them, and that was a true blessing, but he couldn't be there every time. Sometimes he would be working or asleep or tending to his son and I would have to deal with it alone, which often meant that I suffered through it before I fell asleep again simply out of exhaustion. Now, though I have you next to me in bed every night to help me when I have a nightmare and to rescue me when the thunder is so loud that it's the only thing I hear and I believe it is the only thing I will ever hear. I do not know what I did to deserve you, but I am glad to have you."

"And I am so very fortunate to have you," Meg said softly, tipping her head up to press her lips to his. "But just stay close to me, my love, and all will be well; it's only the rain, there is no need to fret."

[yee-fxcking-haw]

What Happens Next?

Summary: You begrudgingly go out dancing with your best friend, but you're consumed by the fear that you'll run into James Barnes. You two shared a wonderful afternoon in highschool and somehow ended up at prom together. Unfortunately, James ruined everything with a horrible prank at your expense. Of course, at the most popular dance hall, he shows up.

Hi guys! This is my very first fic ever so pLeAsE be nice. I apologise for typos and for being long winded. I want to preface this by making it clear that I have absolutely no idea what I am doing I just hope y'all have fun reading the story. My comic book knowledge is eh, it's set in the 1940s ish?? LOL I suck y'all are in for a wild ride. Maybe four or five parts if you guys like it?? Maybe??? Please like it????>

Warnings: Mentions of death. Asshole guy tries to get reader to leave with him without consent. Eventual smut. More specific warnings will be at the beginning of each chapter.

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 "Molly I do not want to go dancing." You bite off the end of the sentence as you put the rest of your clothes away. 

   Your best friend is sitting on your bed, touching up her makeup in a delicate handheld mirror. She rolls her eyes in a dramatic manner then slapps the mirror down on the bed and huffed at you. You can't help but laugh at her theatrics. 

   "It's not my thing." You say in a softer tone, trying to ease the tension you'd created with your snapping. 

  She looks at you with her soft brown eyes and pouts her red lips. 

   "Oh for Pete's sake I don't even own a dress." You say as you motion at your overalls. 

   "That is a sorry excuse and you know it, they're all I wear- you can borrow one of mine." She says, stressing the last half like you're hard of hearing. 

   "Yours are all too nice! I rip things and spill things and lose things, no way I'm using one of yours." You take a glance at her lovely yellow dress, decorated with a delicate white floral design. Of course she could pull that off, but you could never.

   "I have plenty I don't wear anymore, you can just have one."

   You cross your arms and scowl. You know how this is going to end, but you won't go down without a fight. Molly is one of those girls that just got what she wanted, like it was a fact of life. She's too pretty, too convincing, and dangerously clever.

    "There's going to be people from highschool there. Please don't make me do this." You beg, maybe the pity card will work. Graduation was only two months behind you, so a lot of the humiliation still stung. 

   This was true, the majority of your highschool career was indeed filled with self induced bullying. 

   "What if he's there?" You ask, feeling much more serious. 

   Molly's hands stop and she looks you in your eyes, they soften a little as she sees your genuine anxiety. Your mind goes to that horrible boy, James Barnes. Handsome enough to get himself out of any trouble, heartless enough to ruin highschool for you. Against every ounce of good sense in your body, you had developed a crush on him the last two years of highschool. It was probably those blue eyes that looked silver in the right light. The contrast of those eyes against his chocolate brown hair that always laid so well combed on his head. He had this way of walking down the halls with such confidence,  you'd swear he had every intention of owning the building one day. You assume it was the hormones, the desire to be wanted by the most wanted boy in school. Any girl could fall victim to those looks, even you. You had even grown to find his childish antics somewhat amusing. All of his pranks and obnoxious behavior had become something adventurous that you'd always longed for, something that had been missing from your life. 

   She interrupts your thinking by running her hands through the rest of your hair to undo the last half of the braid. 

   "Well, I say we get you all dolled up and show him how blind he was." She offers you a soft smile and a pat on the shoulder. 

   Your eyes drop to the floor, trying to give off the impression that the carpet has suddenly become very interesting to you. You hear her sigh while she reaches a small hand up to tilt your chin towards her face. 

   "He can't ruin dance halls, he can't ruin our fun, he especially can't ruin college boys." Her voice takes on a mischievous tone and you see that light in her eyes that only means you've already lost. You can't help but smile at her endearing girlishness. 

   "Fine, but I will not wear pink." 

   Like a five year old who's just been told she can have a sleepover she squeaks and runs to collect her makeup off the bed. 

   "Please no lipstick. I'm begging you." You smile at her, knowing full well she will pitch a fit over your reluctance to wear that awful stuff.

   "Just a little, to give you a touch of color?" She says, using her sugary voice to convince you. 

   Another easy victory for her, you roll your eyes and throw up your hands. She's on you immediately, doing God knows what to your poor face. She works with light touches, most of the application is not so bad. The mascara is the worst, it tickles and makes your eyes feel heavy. You can't find it in your heart to object though, given how joyful she is about the entire ordeal. She runs her finger through your hair a few times, pulling some pieces forward to frame your face. She steps back and crosses her arms in a very self satisfied way. 

   "You really are pretty." She says, not beautiful, just pretty. 

   "I'm not ugly." You shrug and turn to the mirror. 

   Slightly shocked, you take in your rather foreign reflection. You did look pretty. She had been very light with the makeup like she had said, she had given you just a touch of color in all the right places. Your lips look rosy, your cheeks blushed gracefully, the color to your eyelashes gives your eyes lovely definition. She tosses your hair to one side and smiles. She had given you the appearance of a girl who knew what she was doing with her looks. Perhaps you could fool a college boy into a dance with you. The overalls stood out sorely, but that would be remedied with one of her elegant dresses. 

   "So… what do you think?" She asks cautiously. 

   "I think you might be right." You smile softly at her. 

   She replies with another triumphant squeak and grabs her bag. She hoists out a bright red dress and thrusts it at you. 

   "Red? Molly this is the most attention grabbing color you could put me in! Did you pack this before you left, before you even asked me?" You're slightly offended, but mostly impressed. Of course she had, she knew she would get her way. 

   "Oh just put it on you big baby." 

   With a huff you toss the dress over your chair and unclip your overall straps. You give her a glare as you shove them down your legs. You discard your shirt to the pile in the corner of your room and she sighs at your messiness. You hold the soft dress in your hands before throwing it over your head, admiring the way it glides over your skin. A very welcome contrast to the roughness of denim. It falls down your body, you have to tug a few times to get it all settled. It hugs you a little tight in a few places, as Molly is slightly more petite than you. You turn again to the mirror to inspect your transformation, again shocked by what you see. The red brings out the blush and lipstick even more, making you look like you've just been caught doing something not so lady-like. Molly walks up behind you, that same satisfied smile on her face. 

   "Now that's a lady." She says smugly.

   You sigh in defeat, not only had she convinced you to go dancing, but she had made you somebody worth dancing with. You reach up to try to flatten your hair a little and she snatches your wrist. 

   "Don't you dare ruin that volume. Grab your shoes, let's go." She scurries off downstairs, you assume to let your mother know of your plans for the evening. You take a moment alone in the mirror to run your hands over the dress. It really is a pretty dress, delicate neckline with a bow to tie the waist. It brings out your curves in a very flattering way, giving you that much envied hour glass look. You had that going for you, you were full in all the right places. As much as it pains you to admit, Molly had made you look pretty. Pretty, just pretty. You wonder what it would take to be beautiful. 

   You go to grab your boots instinctively, but catch yourself. You wander over to the closet to fetch the little black dress shoes your mom bought you for graduation. They looked almost like black ballerina slippers, very sleek and feminine. They feel very strange once they're on your feet, but Molly would have an absolute meltdown if you tromp down the stairs in your boots, so you suck up the slight discomfort. On your way downstairs you hear Molly and your mom laughing about something, probably at your expense. 

   "Well I'll be! How hard did you have to fight her to get her in that thing?" Your mom exclaims when you round the corner into the kitchen. She takes in your appearance with a dropped jaw. 

   "Oh Molly you did wonderfully." She touches your hair, smoothes the shoulders of your dress and steps back.

  "Thank you ma'am, she's a lovely canvas." 

  Growing slightly irritated at the gawking, you shove past them to grab the keys to your truck. 

   "Alright y'all this ain't a museum quit your staring." 

   They both chuckle at your grumpy state. 

   "We're just saying you're pretty is all." Your mom says gently, knowing too well your hatred for dressing up. 

   You turn and sigh, you know they mean well. They don't know how difficult it's going to be to go out and just be pretty next to Molly. Molly is gorgeous, and she'll be told that by any man who sees her. You'll be given a once over and they'll move on to her, you'll become her shadow all evening and the truth of it fills you with dread. Your hand sneaks to your stomach to try and calm your nerves. You think maybe you can feign an illness, get out of this whole charade that will inevitably end in you watching Molly be swept off by countless men, while the most action you'll see is the root beer bottle touching your lips while you sit alone. 

   "Oh no you're not doing the sick act." Molly is all too familiar with your tricks. She grabs her purse while your mom laughs. 

   "Molly get her out of here before she has the most sudden case of the flu known to man!" They both laugh deeply at this and you grumble while they usher you towards the front door. Your mom gives you each a kiss on the cheek and smiles fondly. 

   "Be safe, stay away from soldiers, and always keep an eye on each other. I will allow a small amount of mischief but nothin' that requires me getting dressed to come pick you two trouble makers up." 

   You and Molly chuckle at her little speech. She was well aware that you two could very well get yourselves into a right mess, given the years of shenanigans. You lean in and hug her tightly. 

   "It's just the dance hall ma. Nothin' we can't handle." You reassure her. 

   "Oh I know that. I'm worried it can't handle you." Another round of laughter, Molly opens the door and bows with a dramatic sweep of her hand. 

   "After you Madame." She says through laughter. 

   You roll your eyes, at her, at your mother, at the absurdity of this entire evening. Maybe it won't be so bad to get out and have fun again. Since you graduated you've been hesitant to show your face anywhere around town. Going to the dance hall was a big deal as it was just outside the city. James and his best friend Steve were there often during the weekends in highschool. You always admired Steve a little, he reminded you of yourself. A shadow to an attention grabbing best friend. Steve always seemed sweet, you wondered how he could be best friends with such an ass like James. Then again, James seemed harmless until he proved to be heartless. 

   "Very well, but I'm driving," you announce, Molly tries to object but you whip around quickly and give her a warning look. 

   "Fine that's fair, you've already budged on a lot tonight." She ends her sentence with a sweet giggle. 

  "I love you both! Keep her from biting any heads off Molly!" Your mom calls out as you walk to your truck. 

   "As always!" Molly calls back. 

   You climb into your old blue truck, the only thing you have left of your father. The war took him, not an uncommon story around these parts. This truck has become a thinking spot for you, a little sanctuary made of cracked leather and discarded soda caps. You smile fondly as you start up the engine. Your father and you had a friendship that you believed to be rare. He never once made you wear a dress, or brush your hair. He admired your stubborn nature, he used to tell you the world had another thing coming if it thought it was ready for a girl like you. Swallowing the tears that threatened to spill, you reach over and pop the lock of the passenger side door so your best friend can join you. Molly hops into the passenger seat and gives you a wide grin. 

   She says your name softly, you glance over to offer her confirmation of your attention. 

   "Thank you for coming with me. I owe you." She's set aside the joking to genuinely thank you for stepping out of your comfort zone for her. While Molly was at times irritating due to her ability to always get her way, she was a genuine, loyal friend. 

  "You sure do." You laugh, flick on the lights and shift the gear to drive. 

   Your dad had taught you how to drive at 14, something he was very proud of while your mother was horrified. 

   "If I'm gonna send you out on the road, you're gonna know how to handle a truck. I want you surrounded by all this metal, much safer than all those little show cars people got now." You can hear his strong voice reciting his speech for why he wanted you to start so young. 

   He had succeeded indeed. You could handle a truck better than anyone you knew, every time you drive you thank him for it. There probably wouldn't ever come a day when you'd part with this ugly blue truck, not when it held every memory you love. 

   The drive to the dance hall is filled with Molly yammering about all the fine young men that will be there. You try to listen, but your mind is stuck on James. It's a Friday night, of course he'll be there. You were a fool to think there was any maybe about it. He would be there, you would see him, and you would have to relive his most horrible prank all over again. Your only hope was that Steve would be with him, if Steve was there James would somewhat behave himself. You hoped so at least. When you pulled into the dance hall parking lot your stomach began to tie itself in knots. A white hot embarrassment clawed at your lungs and your stomach. You could already see faces you recognize from highschool, you wanted nothing more than to run back home with your tail between your legs. You pulled the truck into a spot along the road, so you were turned away from anybody that might see you. The thought of somebody seeing your face then leaning over to whisper to their friend was enough to make your eyes water. You curse yourself for being so damn sensitive about the matter. It was only prom right? Only a stupid dance, that's what you always said. That was until that arrogant coward James went and- 

   "Are you ok?" Molly asks quietly. 

   You hadn't even heard her calling your name. Your thoughts consumed by the horrible shame eating at your insides. 

   "Just worried." You say, almost a whisper. 

   She's quiet for a moment, contemplating your anxious state. She reaches over and covers your hand with hers, rubbing it with her thumb affectionately. 

   "He can't take this. You get to smile, you get to have fun. People like him peak in highschool and end up miserable the rest of their lives. People like that don't get to ruin things for people like you." Her voice is calm, resolute, it brings you the peace you've craved since you left the house. 

   You think of your dad, how livid he would be if he knew you were letting some stupid boy steal your thunder. You could never let him see you this bent out of shape over somebody like James. You take one deep breath, begging the air to steady your nerves. Looking over at Molly, you smile at the honesty in her eyes. She's right, he doesn't get to have this too. He had his moment, his last hoorah. Prom was all he was ever going to take from you. You fluff your hair a little, tossing it to one side like Molly had at your house. Taking one last breath, you square your shoulders and smile at her. 

   "Let's give 'em hell." You say. 

   "Atta girl! You're a knockout hon, you'll see." She hops out of the truck and runs around to meet you on your way out. She hooks her arm in yours and pulls you towards the building. So far none of the people heading in have turned to throw any rotten fruit at you, so you allow yourself to relax slightly and follow Molly's lead. As you make your way to the door you notice a group of soldiers leaning against the wall, a few smoking, a few cradling beers. Naturally their eyes wander over to you two. You anticipate the eyes that land on Molly, but not the eyes that land on you. You're especially caught off guard by the low whistle that leaves the lips of a particularly handsome soldier. You must look like you've never even seen a man before, let alone had one compliment you. Molly doesn't miss a beat, letting out a soft giggle and raising her free hand to wave. 

   "Evening boys, y'all here to dance or cause trouble?" She says with her flirty voice. They all chuckle. 

   "How's a little of both sound, sweetheart?" The one that whistled says with a deep husky voice. You blush and try to hide your sheepish smile by looking down when his eyes meet yours. 

   "Sounds like a plan." Molly winks and ducks into the doorway. 

   The lobby is absolutely packed with people, some saying excited hellos, some couples all over each other, all far too busy to even notice you two have entered. This brings you even more relief, maybe you would make it through tonight without having to relive any painful highschool memories. People probably didn't even care anymore. That's what happens after highschool anyway, it all gets forgotten while everyone finds their own way. That's thinking optimistically of course, an event like prom was sure to be remembered, but for tonight you're determined to pretend it never happened. Clinging to Molly like a life raft you let her lead you into the dance hall. You are absolutely floored by all of the movement, the bodies wrapped around each other, the band blaring on the stage, the twinkling lights illuminating the entire event. It's all so incredible. Everyone seems to have completely lost themselves in the movement of the band's driving melody. They're playing In The Mood by Glenn Miller, a song you've learned is a hit at places like this. You crane your head to take in the entire room, out of the corner of your eye you notice the soldiers from the front door, the one guilty of the whistling has his eyes glued to you. You offer him a shy smile, he returns it with his own confident grin. 

   "Molly that soldier won't stop looking at me!" You say urgently.

   "Well then let's go." She says it like it's obvious. You don't even get the chance to object, she yanks you around and you're on your way over to the group of charming soldiers. Your eyes are glued to your admirer, who looks pleased with Molly's decision to bring you over. 

   "Hello again." She says with her signature confidence. 

   "Hi there." His friend says, giving Molly a long look up and down. 

   "I'm afraid no young man has had the guts to ask either of us to dance, either of you up to the challenge?" She asks. 

   The two men give each other a knowing look. The friend offers Molly his hand immediately. 

   "It would be a pleasure darlin'." He says with a goofy smile. He's very handsome, warm brown eyes with tight curls to match. A strong jaw and a bright look in his deep eyes. Built strong and broad like most soldiers, dwarfing Molly. You hear her giggle and ask him his name as he sweeps the off into the dance floor. You're left with your soon to be dance partner, tongue tied and full of nerves. You glance up at him through your lashes, hoping you don't look too helpless. He offers you a small smile. His eyes are a deep brown like his friend's, but his hair is a rich auburn. Freckles decorate his handsome cheekbones, pairing beautifully with his rich eyes. 

   "What's your name sugar?" He asks with confidence while he steps forward, placing his left hand on your waist, moving his other to hold yours up in a typical pose for dancing like this. You're so very thankful for his obvious experience. If this was all left up to you, there would be nothing but awkward silence and a sorry excuse to duck and run out of the building. His confidence puts you at ease, so you settle into the dance, a slow easy pace to match the new song the band had begun to play. You tell him your name softly and give him an awkward glance. 

   "Thank you for the pity dance. That girl that stole your friend is my best friend. She had to practically drag me here." You add a chuckle to the end of the sentence, making sure it comes out soft and feminine. 

   He smiles down at you, a look you can't quite decipher crosses his eyes. Before he speaks again his eyes drift to your neckline quickly then dart back up. You try to stuff the uncomfortable feeling it gives you deep down so you don't ruin the dance. 

   "Ain't no pity dance sweetheart. You're a vision in red. My name's Daniel." He says, eyes dancing over your collar bones briefly. You suppose this is the kind of attention that you should expect at a place like this. This is the kind of attention girls come here for isn't it? You sure hope so. Finding yourself lost for what to say next you think about what Molly would say. Despite your nerves, you let your free hand slide to play with his collar, you bat your eyelashes and give him what you hope is a flirtatious smirk. This seems to boost his confidence a little, he lets the hand on your waist drift down slightly. You swallow that uncomfortable feeling and ignore the gesture. 

   "So Daniel, how long have you been a soldier?" You internally kick yourself for the disgustingly ditsy question. This is why you don't go dancing. 

   "About a year, joined right out of highschool." He says, shamelessly watching your neckline now instead of meeting your eyes. 

   Channelling Molly, you utterly shock yourself with the sentence that leaves your mouth next. 

   "Well if you think I'm a vision in red, you should see yourself in this uniform." 

   This apparently sparks something in him, because he drops his hand so his fingers are on the side of your ass, and the hand holding yours drops to mirror it. You grab his shoulders to steady yourself, he brings you flush against him and drops his head so his lips are at your ear. 

   "You should see me out of it hon." His voice is low and sinister and you positively hate it. You plant your palms on his chest and look up at him with as much alarm as you can convey. 

   "Look dude, I'm new to this but I'm not an idiot. You need to find another girl if this is how you want tonight to go," you snap.

   He doesn't drop his cocky smile for a second. Before you can even react he has you by the wrist, dragging you into the lobby and out the door. The bastard had positioned you for a quick escape while you were dancing. 

   "Hey knock it off!" You holler, looking around wildly, pleading for someone to notice. They're all far too caught up in their own activities to notice, just like when you and Molly arrived. Your legs betray you as you stomp along behind him, desperate to avoid a scene. Your stomach starts to flip and you dig your heels in once you're in the parking lot. You yank your arm back and call out to him again. 

   He turns on you like a wolf, grabbing the sides of your face with a crushing grip. You let out a whimper while your hands fly to his and attempt to pry them off your face. 

   "Look hon, you got two options, embarrass the hell out of yourself, or come with me and have the time of your life." Now that he's this close you smell the alcohol on his breath. 

   "You pig!" You snarl, your foot comes down on his right foot hard and you spit in his face. He hops back and howls, grabbing his foot and wiping his face. You turn on your heels to run into the building but his strong hand is around your wrist again. He yanks you so your back is against his chest. Before you can object to this horrid action, a strong and smooth voice echoes from behind the both of you. 

   "I ain't no genius, but I don't believe a woman wants to be held like that by a man that she's just called a pig." 

   Daniel's arm releases you and you stumble forward, not even sparing a glance back at your rescuer, you run into the lobby and find a table to brace yourself on. You swallow as much air as you can to still the rattling of your bones. You hear shouting, maybe the sound of a fist connecting with a face. Daniel let's some colorful language fly at his assailant, followed by heavy footsteps and a slamming car door. 

You let out a huff, flattening your fingers out on the cold wood of the table. Willing yourself to relax before you see Molly again, the last thing you want is to ruin her night out. 

   "Are you alright doll?" That smooth voice from the parking lot asks from behind you. You feel a wave of calm wash over you. It was just a voice, a stranger's voice, why did it bring you so much peace? Dropping your shoulders, you turn to face whoever this bold savior is. 

   "I am now, thank you for-." You freeze, suddenly feeling like you're in even more danger than you were at the hands of Daniel. You stare directly into eyes so blue they look like silver. Your throat closes, Your heart hits the bottom of your stomach and you bring your arms around your abdomen. Those beautiful lips part and he says your name gently, like you're some wounded animal he doesn't want to scare off. You damn the butterflies that flutter in your stomach at the sound of his voice saying your name like that. Those eyes have you trapped in their gaze, you will yourself to run, to rip your feet from where they're planted and run like hell. You can't fucking move though, not away from him.

   "James." You whisper. Embarrassment burns white and hot in your gut. You swallow thickly and grab your elbows, wishing to hold yourself tightly, hoping maybe if you squeeze hard enough you'll crumble and disappear.

   "Uhm, th-thanks for that." You blurt out then turn to run to your truck, hoping to hide until Molly comes out to find you. You need the safety of that dingey cabin, to smell the leather and the oil and have your nerves stilled by memories of your father. 

   He calls out your name, hot on your heels as you stomp to the truck. You won't turn around. You will not fall for it again. 

   "Doll please, hear me out." That damn name always turned your legs to jelly. Not tonight. You whip around, hair flying wildly around your shoulders. He comes to a jolting stop and looks at you with begging eyes. Your finger comes up to point at him, you take two stomps forward and place it firmly on his chest. 

   "Do not fucking call me that. Stop fucking following me." You say as firmly as you can, trying to hide the pain behind the words. 

   "Please just listen." He says after a breath. His eyes soft and honest, those stunning eyes. Shit. You fell for it. 

   You cross your arms and look to the side, following some tail lights down the road. 

   "I am so sorry…" He says with a weak voice. 

Part Two

[briefololtragedy]

A small light in the darkness

Oneshot that popped into my head.

Pairing: Sakura x Shisui

Rating T, mentions of war and PTSD

Summary: Shisui couldn’t recognize himself anymore. What was the point anymore. After a night of poor sleep Shisui decides to go to a local coffee shop, meeting a certain pink haired student for the first time.

Word count: 1971

His heart started to race, flashes crossing his mind, he could feel the sweat starting to cover his body. Shisui shot straight up from his slumber.

“It was just a dream. Not real. I’m back home. I’m safe. My family is safe.” Shisui kept repeating to himself. He was no longer deployed, he had come back home a few months ago. Shisui was supposed to be deployed for 6 more months, but he ended up taking shrapnel to his eyes in an explosion.  Thankfully he didn’t loose his eyesight, he was told he was lucky. Shisui didn’t feel lucky, like his sight his life was blurry. Shisui had spent almost a month in the hospital following multiple surgeries. Even there some of the noises triggered memories that were not pleasant. Dr. Tsunade had seen the signs he was exhibiting and placed him into therapy.

He felt like a shell of what he used to be. Shisui couldn’t bring himself to joke, when he did he would remember the faces of the men who didn’t survive the explosion. They were all gathered around one of the fire pits they set up outside, the men had gotten letters from home. One of them was showing off pictures of his new daughter, a bright smile on his face. The solider was due to go back home in a few weeks. Instead of being hugged by his adoring wife and getting to hold his daughter for the first time, he went home in a body bag instead. No cute video to be taken of him seeing his family. Instead she would stand on the tarmac with the other wives. Dark thoughts were overtaking Shisui. He would have traded places with …Asuma, that was his name, in a heart beat.

What did Shisui have to go home to? An empty one bedroom apartment. His cousin Itachi was preparing to get married to his high school sweetheart. Shisui felt his hands begin to shake. Venturing out to his balcony he reached inside the potted plant to grab his pack of cigarettes. It was a bad habit he picked up during one of his deployments. It was still dark out, around 2am. The lighter providing a hypnotic glow as he went to light the cigarette. It burned as he inhaled the first drag, but it reminded him he was alive. As he looked around it was blurry, he forgot his fucking glasses. The blurriness of his surroundings started to take him back. The yelling, the smell of everything burning, how he couldn’t see. It was a surprise attack, no warning.

He let out a yell. Hopelessness overcame him. Before he knew it he was on the floor rocking back and forth. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Why couldn’t he do anything right. Why couldn’t he protect his men. All he wanted was to make sure his family remained safe. That his cousin didn’t have to worry, he deserved to live a life with his loving sweetheart as his younger brother tried to best him. He didn’t want anyone to suffer, he would take all the suffering if it meant others could be happy.

Shisui had to take calming breaths. His heart rate was slowing down. The shaking slowing down. He still could feel the unexplained worry. Was Itachi alright? Shisui grabbed his phone looking at the last message Itachi sent.

‘Just got home from the office. Izumi is making dinner. She says I can’t have any more sweets before the wedding. Stay safe and don’t forget your therapy appointment in the morning.’

Itachi was safe. He was where he is supposed to be. Shisui looked at the time, it was almost 5am. His attack took 3 hours from him. It wasn’t the longest attack, but also not the shortest he has had. Shisui decided to change into sweatpants, a simple T-shirt, and his running shoes. He hoped a run would help clear his mind.

10 miles. Shisui had run 10 miles. His legs ached, his chest was tight, but it was a good feeling. The tingling of his muscles was a welcome feel. He felt more in control of his body. Jumping into the shower to get ready for the day it was like washing some of the memories away. He knew he couldn’t wash them away for good, but even a few moments would suffice. Brushing his teeth he cleaned the mirror and looked at his reflection. He could barely recognize the person staring back at him. He felt older than 33, he could see his scares around his eyes, so faint, but a reminder of his failures. ‘Don’t go there Shisui, don’t ruin your work this morning.’

After getting dressed Shisui looked at the time it was almost 8. He had plenty of time to get some coffee before his therapy session. It had been a while since he last sat in a coffee shop drinking a cup of coffee, watching people hustle and bustle with the start of their day. Mind made up he grabbed his keys and headed out.

Leaf Coffee and Tea was a local shop Downtown, close to his apartment and his therapist’s office wasn’t too far either. Ordering a simple black coffee Shisui settled down into the worn leather chairs by the large windows. He was able to see the pedestrians walking down the street along with everyone in the shop. Men and women in suits came in ordered their drinks and then looked impatient as they waited for their orders. Feet tapping on the floor and occasionally glancing at their watches. He heard a bunch of giggling high school students at one of the large tables in the center of the coffee shop. It was hilarious to see some of the college students glare at the group as they studied.

Shisui reclined his head back, taking a moment to close his eyes and take everything in. The noises around him were almost comforting. He could hear odd bits of conversations. Then he felt it. A pressure on his shoulder. He jolted up, on high alert.

“Excuse me sir. I didn’t mean to startle you. Is there anyone sitting in this chair?” The voice was soft. He looked to his right and paused. The sight before him was familiar for some reason. He had gotten use to the desert that surrounded him, the lack of color. However, it seemed there was no lack of color with the person standing before him. She had navy stockings on, a grey skirt that came mid thigh, her blouse was a dark forest green. But it wasn’t her outfit that packed the color punch, but the girl herself. Her eyes could put a forest to shame with how green they were. Did trees weep, jealous of the emerald color. Her hair was gathered in a braid it looked like, but he had no clue what type, small pieces framed her face, he wondered if she dyed it that pink. When he went to look at her face again and noticed the pink eyebrows and eyelashes he had no doubt her color was natural. She looked like a nature spirt walking around disguised as a person.

“Uh… sorry I didn’t catch that.” Shisui felt like he wanted to kick himself.

“I wanted to know if this seat was taken. There are no more open places to sit. Are you waiting for anyone?” She didn’t look annoyed. She had removed her hand from his shoulder. He then noticed that she carried her own cup of coffee, but also a really heavy looking book.

“No. I’m not saving the seat, please sit down.” She moved like a ballerina, so graceful. Graceful until she flopped herself in the seat.

“Thanks! I got here later than I expected and my usual seat was gone. This coffee shop tends to get pretty busy. I blame my idiot roommate, she silenced my alarm, said I needed to stop studying for a moment. I adore her like a sister, but we have different priorities….” She kept talking and then trialed off.

 “I’m so sorry! I started to ramble, don’t mind me sir.” A blush spread across her cheeks. Good she looked so young, maybe late teens early twenties. He felt like a perv.

 “No problem, it’s nice to have some company. “ Smooth, very smooth. She relaxed at his words. Shisui hadn’t felt this relaxed in…well he couldn’t remember when.

 “Did you just move to the area? I haven’t seen you here before.” She didn’t look up from her textbook as she spoke.

 “No I’ve lived here for some time. This coffee place is new to me. I haven’t been here before. “ his coffee was almost gone as he looked into his cup. He wanted to savor these last few sips and the company he was with. Here he was just a man, talking to a woman (hoping she was closer to the early twenties mark).  

 Before she could ask more questions he spoke. “What are you studying for? That is quite the book you got.” Man could he sound more like an old man.

 “Oh this is just a review book. I’m in my last year of medical school and have to take test before applying to residency. I like to come here and study for a change of scenery.”  She started to pull out a bag full of highlighters, pens, and post its. How could one person need so many pens.

 He didn’t know how to respond. His people skills were getting to almost Sasuke level bad it seemed. He could hear a ringing and then realized it was his phone.

 “Hey Itachi. Yes I’m fine, I went to get coffee this morning. Yes I won’t forget. I have 30 minutes before I have to be there. Who died and made you my mother?” God why was Itachi such a mother hen! Well Shisui knew why and appreciated it most of the time. In all honesty he almost forgot he had a therapy session soon.

 “Yes I can come over for dinner tonight. Do you need me to bring anything? Got it. “ Shisui realized that the woman’s eyes were on him.

 “Sorry about that. That was my cousin. I should probably get going soon.” He looked at his coffee, it was empty. Disappointment filling his cup instead of coffee.

 “Your cousin Itachi, he wouldn’t happen to have a brother named Sasuke would he? “ Don’t freak out Shisui, don’t freak out. She doesn’t look like a stalker.

 “Yes he has a younger brother named Sasuke.” His voice was full of apprehension.

 “Oh my! You must be Shisui! I have been friends with Sasuke since college, well more like Naruto initially dragged him to all of our group gatherings. “ She knew Sasuke and was friends with him, yep he felt like a pervert. However, that meant she was more around 25 and not as young as she appeared.

 “I should let you go to your meeting. I’m Sakura by the way.” She held her hand out. His heart started to race again, but this time it wasn’t surrounding unpleasant flashbacks, but nerves. God his hands were sweaty. The moment their hands touched, everything melted away.

 “ I guess that means I’ll be seeing you around.” Shisui had hope for the first time surfacing. A small light was starting to break through all of the darkness.

 As Shisui walked out of the shop he couldn’t help but look back. She was sitting with her legs folded under her engrossed in her studies. The way to his therapists office wasn’t the heavy march it has been in the past. Maybe he could see if Itachi and Izumi would have Sasuke and his friends join for one of their dinners.

[ghosttotheparty]

cotton candy skies always look better in person

3. also available on AO3 chapter 2

“I’m all yours”?

Who the fuck says that to someone they just met?

Although, Lucas didn’t seem to mind the statement, even if it was a little weird. Jens had almost made a face at himself, almost apologized, but every sense of embarrassment disappeared when Lucas’s smile widened. Fuck, that smile.

Jens has been thinking about it all week. Really he’s been thinking about Lucas all week, everything about him. It’s like Jens took a picture of him with his mind. Or several pictures. Jens remembers everything. The way his hair fell in his face, the way he pushed it back to look at Jens. The polish on his nails that shined as the sunlight hit it. The silver rings on his fingers, the Jens noticed he twisted sometimes. The striped shirt that peeked out from under the dark hoodie that he wore, a hoodie that looked a size or two too big. The necklaces that hung down from his neck (which Jens didn’t stare at when he wasn’t looking), a few chains and one with a key. The ripped jeans that clung to his legs (which Jens definitely didn’t stare at when he wasn’t looking).

Jens thinks about him almost every second of every day. It’s like his name is stuck in his head.

Lucas, Lucas, Lucas, Lucas, Lucas…

His name and his eyes.

Those fucking eyes.

Jens would compare them to the sky or the sea but really no words could do them justice. Jens stared into them for so long that night that they were engraved into his mind, which Jens was fine with.

Jens finds himself smiling randomly during the day, even at school in the middle of conversations and lessons, remembering those eyes. Or something Lucas said that night. Or just remembering Lucas exists. The guys all ask what’s up, why he’s suddenly grinning to himself, and he tells them he’s thinking about something Lotte said that morning, or a meme. He considers spilling everything right there, the ballet, the bisexuality, and the boy. But he doesn’t. He’s kept dance a secret for so long. He wants to keep Lucas a secret for a little longer too.

Although, he thinks, if everything goes the way he hopes it does, he won’t be able to for much longer. If Lucas feels the same way, which as much as Jens hopes he does and suspects he does, he can’t bring himself to believe, maybe Jens will be okay with everyone knowing everything. Maybe he won’t have to hide anymore. 

But that isn’t happening yet. They’ve only hung out once (for hours), and Jens doesn’t even know his last name. Or his phone number, which Jens wants more than anything. 

To be honest, Jens doesn’t really know what it is about Lucas that makes him feel like this. No one’s ever made him feel like this, feel so… whatever it is. He feels like he trusts Lucas, strangely, despite meeting him only once. Lucas knows about the ballet, knows everything about the ballet, and Jens is fine with it. Fine with Lucas knowing things about him that his closest friends don’t. Fine with it, and comfortable with it, really. Talking about ballet was easy with Lucas. (Unless he made direct eye contact with him. If that happened, all bets were off and his mouth forgot how to speak.) He wasn’t shy about it. And Lucas saw him in pink tights for fuck’s sake, what was talking about dance compared to that?

Jens doesn’t wear his pink tights today. But he also doesn’t change out of his practise clothes. He keeps on his black leggings, sliding his red hoodie and oversized jacket before putting in an earring as he talks to Damien.

“Guess who has to watch their brother again?” Damien says harshly, pulling a shirt on. 

“Ew, why?”

“My parents are going on a date-”

“Cute.”

“-and apparently my other brother isn’t mature enough to hold down the fort.”

“Wait, you have two brothers?” 

Damien freezes, a hand on the door of his locker, and stares at Jens in disbelief.

“Where exactly have you been for the past four years?”

Jens shrugs.

“Under a rock, I guess.”He pulls the strap of his bag over his after tugging his shoes on. On the way to the door, he pauses and smooths his hair down. When it doesn’t work, he fluffs it back up again, turning his head and analyzing it in the reflection. 

“Who are you trying to look good for?” Damien approaches his shoulder, clutching his bag to his chest. Jens sighs.

“Your mom.”

“Oh-kay.” 

“You should ask Rosa to hang out with you while you watch your brother,” Jens says, changing the subject. He hasn’t told Damien, or Lena or Rosa, about Lucas. He opens the door, standing out of the way so Damien can get past. 

“Thanks.” Damien waits for his outside as another dancer passes through the door Jens is holding open. “And no thanks, I don’t think she’ll want to.”

“I think she’d be down for anything if you’ll be there.”

They make their way down the steps and to the main door, squeezing past the jazz dancers getting ready for practice. Another ballerina is holding the door open, and they both thank her as they pass. Outside the skies are mostly clear, clouds scattered in the horizon. 

“Boys!” Lena jumps on Jens’s back and he catches her legs so she doesn’t fall. “How we doing?”

“You’re in a good mood,” Damien notes as she slides down, landing on her feet and keeping an arm around Jens’s neck. Rosa rolls her eyes.

“She’s been talking nonstop since practice ended. I think she’s high.” 

“I am not,” Lena says, pointing at her. “But! I have a date tonight and it’s gonna be fun.” 

“Why do you go on dates on Thursday?” Damien asks as he steps out of the way so a girl can pass. “Doesn’t it make more sense to go out on Fridays? Then you can stay out later.”

“Oh, baby Damien…” She lets go of Jens (he straightens his back from bending over) and pats Damien’s cheeks, holding his face. “No one said I have to sleep.” 

“Yeah, but-” Jens stops listening.

He looks to the sides, outside the convenience store, hoping to see a certain curly-haired Dutch boy, to no avail. Jens looks around, craning his neck slightly to see into the alleyway, and scans the sidewalk on the other side of the street. He doesn’t see Lucas. 

He looks back at his friends, worrying. Maybe Lucas forgot. Or maybe he changed his mind. Jens’s heart sinks. 

“Anyway, I’ve got to get ready for my Thursday night date,” Lena’s voice cuts into his thoughts. She emphasizes “Thursday night,” cutting an intense look to Damien. “I gotta go.” She hugs Rosa and Damien and turns to Jens, holding her hand out. 

“You okay?” she asks as he grabs it, pulling her in so their shoulders bump. Her eyebrows are turned up, worried. 

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m tired, I didn’t eat much before practice.” He’s gotten good at lying on the spot. 

“Ah.” She smacks the back of his hand before turning away. “Fill up that belly, my friend. Bye, guys!” And she’s gone.

“I have to watch my brother tonight,” Damien says, sighing as he checks the time on his watch.

“Ugh, that sucks.” Rosa looks at him sympathetically. “I’m so glad my parents don’t make me watch mine anymore, he’s a nightmare.” She looks down at her phone, responding to a text, and Jens catches Damien’s eye over her head. Fucking ask her, he mouths. Damien shakes his head. I swear to God. Jens’s eyes widen, making a threat. What exactly he’s threatening he doesn’t know, but it seems to work. 

“Rosa, do you want to come over?” Damien’s face darkens as she looks up at him. “It’ll be with my brother so we’ll probably just watch a movie, but I can make pizza. Or something,” he finished awkwardly.

“Yeah, that sounds fun!” She sends the text and looks at Jens. “You’re coming?” 

“No, I’ve got something,” he answers, smiling. 

“Oh, okay.” She reaches up for a hug and Jens embraces her, holding his hand up in an “okay” sign behind her back for Damien to see. Damien grins.

“I’ll see you next week!” She waves as she and Damien walk away. Jens watched them go, smiling when Rosa’s shoulder bumps into Damien, and he pulls out his phone to send a  text to Lena.

Rosa and Damien: ✔

He looks up as two blue check marks appear ar his message, glancing around to see if he can see Lucas anywhere. When he doesn’t, he looks back at his phone to see Lena’s messages.

WHAT ARE

YOU TALKING ABOUT He laughs, typing.

Chill, they’re just hanging out He pauses and adds another message.

Watching Damien’s brother

Before Lena sends her message, something bumps Jens’s shoulder and he looks up, startles, into those eyes.

“Hey.” Lucas sounds out of breath and his cheeks are pink. 

“Hi.” Jens steps back, looking him up and down. He’s wearing an old sweater, that one could call a grandpa sweater, and black jeans. He’s got on the same necklaces as last time, but now the strap of camera bag is around his neck, too. Jens’s eyes pause for half a second at a rainbow pin on it before looking back up into his eyes, which get smaller as he smiles. 

He looks the way fresh paint smells.

Fucking intoxicating.

“I was wondering where you were,” Jens says after taking a breath. He slides his phone into his pocket. 

“Sorry, I got a little lost on the way here.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I just ran down the street,” he says, pointing behind himself with a thumb when Jens raises his eyebrows. 

“Just for me?”

“Of course, who else?” Jens grins. 

“I brought the weed today, by the way.” “Ah, hell yeah.” Lucas turns, beckoning him toward the alley. “You have to sit in the light.”

“Why?” Jens asks, confused, and Lucas turns, walking backwards, and hold up the camera case, smiling mischievously. Jens grins as he digs the joint out of the front pocket of his bag. 

Silently, the two of them lift themselves onto the dumpster. Lucas slips as he gets up, and Jens is already reaching out to catch him when he catches himself. Jens’s face burns.

“How was practice?” Lucas asks as Jens lights the joint. Jens looks at him, surprised, although he doesn’t know why, and he tucks the lighter back into his bag, which he had tossed behind himself.

“Good.” Lucas raises his eyebrows and nods, gesturing with his hand for him to keep going. “I’m fucking tired.” 

“You do pointe, right?”

Jens nods as he takes another drag.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I saw your shoes the first time I saw you.” 

“Right.” He looks away, feeling like there’s a wildfire burning in his chest. 

“Heard it’s difficult.” Lucas reaches out for the joint and Jens passes it to him. Their fingers brush.

“It is. Very.” 

“Respect.” Lucas holds the joint up like he’s giving a toast before bringing to his lips, and Jens can’t help but watch his cheeks hollow as he inhales. And then he forces himself to look away. 

“How’s your day going?” he asks after a few beats of silence.

“Good. Better now.” Jens’s face turns pink. There’s a pause. “My dad called earlier.” Lucas is making a face when Jens turns to look. 

“Gross.”

Lucas’s laugh is something made of magic.

“What did he say?” Jens asks. 

“Nothing good. Or interesting.” Lucas holds the joint out and Jens is struck with sudden boldness. He grabs Lucas’s hand, his fingers under Lucas’s, gently, and leans forward to examine his nails. They’re all shirt, a few of them painted a dark blue-green, the others natural and shiny. Pretty. 

“I like your nails.” He lifts his hand and takes the joint, looking at Lucas, whose eyes are slightly wide.

“Yeah?” “Mm-hmm.”

He lifts it to his mouth, leaning back on his hand, and takes a slow drag, his heart beating fast, but feeling more at ease than he’s felt all week. And he doesn’t think it’s just the weed.

“I like this,” Lucas’s voice says.

He starts to turn but stops when he sees Lucas’s hand come close to his face, and feels his earring gently. 

“You do?” he asks, feeling like he could start screaming.

“Yeah, it’s…” Lucas trails off and retracts his hand, placing it on his camera, which Jens hadn’t seen him take out of the bag.

“It’s…” Jens bobs his head at him and Lucas suppresses a smile. 

“Hot.” 

Complete anarchy fills his head, complete with screaming, sirens, flashing lights.

“Ah.” He grins and turns away again, taking a drag. 

“Here, do something.” Lucas pulls his legs up in front of himself, crossing them, and points the camera at him. 

“Like what?” 

“I don’t fucking know, anything.” 

Jens swings a leg up in front of himself and lets the other dangle as he takes one more drag. He drops his hands in front of his lap, opening his mouth and letting the smoke drift around his face. He hears the camera click several times. 

He hears a very quiet “Yeah…” and grins behind the smoke. Lucas lowers the camera, looking at the screen, and then looks up, giving Jens thumbs up. 

“Good?” Jens asks.

“Yeah.” Lucas raises the camera again, leaning back slightly.  “Do something else.” 

Jens lifts the leg that’s in front of him so his knee is upright, and brings the joint back up, holding it between his lips as he puts his forearm on his knee and rests his chin on his arm. He watches as Lucas’s lips curve into a smile behind the camera as it snaps again. 

The camera lowers and Lucas looks at the pictures, Jens stares as his face, fully appreciating the freckles scattered across his skin like stars, the mole above his mouth, his lashes that spread like a fan. A curl falls, obstructing Jens’s view, and he has to hold back from reaching out and pushing it out of the way. 

“Look.” Lucas uncrosses his legs and uses them to push himself so he’s sitting next to Jens, whose heart feels like it might beat out of his chest. Lucas’s shoulder is touching Jens’s. Jens doesn’t move away. Lucas holds the camera up, showing Jens the first photos with the smoke covering his face. Jens takes the weed out of his mouth, holding it so the side so the smoke isn’t being blown into Lucas’s face.

“If I edit it so the focus is on you, like if I blur the background, it’ll look really cool, don’t you think?” Lucas looks up at Jens, who isn’t even really looking at the photo. 

“Yeah, for sure.” 

Lucas smiles and turns back to the camera. Jens holds the joint up in front of him, offering, and Lucas looks at it before leaning forward and taking it between his lips. Jens’s eyes widen and he pulls his hand away, letting Lucas hold it in his mouth (Oh my God oh my God oh my God) and then Lucas tilts his head up, his eyes still looking at the camera as he analyzes the other photos, and Jens reaches up, taking it, and scoffs lightly. 

“I had a history test this week,” he says, trying to ease his body temperature. 

“Yeah? How’d it go?” Lucas turns so he’s facing Jens, putting distance between them, and Jens’s side suddenly feels cold. 

“How do you think?”

Lucas makes a face, a comical grimace, and Jens laughs.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I’m telling you, find a way to talk to me during your tests and I’ll help you if you help me with my math.”

“Talk to you as in texting or like telepathically?”

Lucas switches the camera off and leans back against the rough behind them.

“Telepathically would be dope.” 

“I’ll get on that.” 

Lucas laughs before, “Speaking of texting, why don’t I have your number yet?” 

“Because you haven’t asked?” Jens replies sassily, and yeah, they’re definitely flirting. 

“Well.” Lucas produces a phone from the side of the camera bag. “Better get on that.” He opens it, typing in a code, and passes it to Jens when he opens a new contact. 

Jens smiles as he types his name and number in before handing it back to him. Lucas sends him a text after a second, just a ?, and Jens sends one back. 

“Had to make sure it’s legit,” Lucas says.

“Why would I give you a fake number?”

“I don’t know, you don’t like me or something?” 

Jens furrows his brows at him.

“If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t let you take my picture.”

 “Touché.” 

There’s a beat of silence as Jens adds Lucas to his contacts (Lucas📷) before he asks, “What school do you go to? I haven’t seen you around except here.”

“I’m doing online.” 

“Ooo.” They both put their phones in their pockets. “How’s that going for you?” 

“Honestly I like it better. School is exhausting.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Especially people. It’s nice to have a break.”

“The people are exhausting?”

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Am I?” 

“Not yet.” 

“Oh-kay.”  Jens laughs and reaches out, pushing him, and Lucas giggles, grabbing Jens’s hand and pushes it away.

“If I fall off of this, I’m going to kill you.” 

Later, as the joint burns down between the two of them, Jens asks how online school worlds. Lucas tells him about the calendar he has online, how all of his assignments for the school year are already laid out in front of him. 

“It’s a lot less stressful, knowing every assignment that’s coming.” 

“Sounds nice. Sometimes I don’t know what assignments I have until a week after they’re due.” 

Lucas’s eyes squint when he laughs.

Eventually, Jens realises the sky has darkened, and he looks up to see the stars, which automatically make him think of Lucas’s freckles. And the fact that it’s much later than he feels like it is. 

“Shit.” He pulls out his phone, seeing a text from his mom, sent almost twenty minutes ago.

Where are you???

He types out a response as he swings his legs off the dumpster and jumps to the ground. 

Sorry, lost track of time. On my way home now.

“Oh, yeah, you have school tomorrow, don’t you?” Lucas asks as he hand’s Jens’s bag to him. 

“Ugh, yes.” 

“Sucks to be you.” 

Jens furrows his brow at him as he pulls the strap over his head. 

“Don’t you too?” 

“Yeah, but I don’t have to get up until like ten.” Lucas gives him a dry grin and jumps down, clutching the camera. Jens flips him off and he laughs. 

They part ways ar the sidewalk, going down opposite paths, and say goodbye by bumping their palms and fists together. Jens has to stuff his hand in his pocket after to stop it from shaking. Not even five minutes later, as he walks alone down an empty sidewalk, the sound of passing cars in the distance muffled by tall buildings, he receives a text message. 

I’ll see you next week?

He smiles before answering.

Of course. 

[chemicalpink]

BTS reaction to: finding out you used to dance ballet

Pairing: reader x BTS + reader x Platonic!BTS at the end

Warnings: none

Genre: fluff + crack 

A/N: I am having trouble writing bc *sigh* life BUT here’s something new I’m trying out. There is a platonic OT7 at the end so yeah... thanks for reading I hope you like it!

Masterlist ♡ Requests

Ｋｉｍ Ｓｅｏｋ��ｉｎ ♡

“Jin, baby, you’re not supposed to let your arm fall down during the turn,” you said with a light chuckle as your boyfriend tried to rehearse his part to the new Black Swan choreography, you’ve seen him and the rest of the members practice a lot but their usual dancing style was foreign to you, not this time though.

“Oh smart pants, are we?” he laughed as he readjusted his position and you made your way to where he was standing, holding his arm up while he turned

“If you maintain your arm stretched up, you’ll have more balance, trust me”

He looked at you puzzled and you sighed smiling fondly at the memories of all the years dancing was your life passion 

“I used to be a ballet dancer, Jin, just listen to me okay?” you positioned yourself to make the turn the way he was supposed to and he couldn’t help but keep staring at you. He just couldn’t believe you had never told him that you used to dance ballet.

Ｍｉｎ Ｙｏｏｎｇｉ ♡

Kids were running around the Min’s house for Yoongi’s mother birthday, and while you were amazed at them, Yoongi just held his soju tighter as one of his nieces made her way to him dressed in a pink tutu.

“Look uncle Yoongi! I’ll be a ballerina when I grow up!” her eyes shining as she showed off her messily tied ballet shoes

“Ah… that’s nice, kid” you turned to look at him in disbelief and you lightly swatted his forearm for being so cold

“Yoongi! be nice to her” he couldn’t help but smile as you crouched down to fix her shoes and before he could notice, the little girl had your hand in hers and asked you to dance with her.

The sight was lovely, up until you landed a perfect triple pirouette in the middle of his parent’s living room, your body not faltering once and all the kids cheering at you asking you to do more, and boy did you delivered… once, twice… five consecutive turns and a perfect landing had him placing his hand over his mouth and his eyes expanding in disbelief, why had you never mentioned you were able to dance ballet?

Ｊｕｎｇ Ｈｏｓｅｏｋ ♡

Hoseok had always liked to be the first one to arrive at the studio when they had a new choreographer coming and this was no exception, dragging you along to come with him, you planning to just chill while the boys practised, but that all changed when the choreographer’s voice resonated in the room, making you look up

“Y/N?!” 

“Chong Sun? Oh my god I haven’t seen you in forever!” you went to hug him as your boyfriend tried to comprehend what was going on 

“You two know each other?” he asked, a tone of jealousy in his voice

“We used to study together baby”

“May I just say- I don’t know what you need me for when your girlfriend can do the best grand jeté the world has ever seen” Hoseok just smirked at that, obviously taken aback that you had never told him you used to be a ballet dancer but even prouder that the man standing before him knew that you were his.

Ｋｉｍ Ｎａｍｊｏｏｎ ♡

“Thanks again for helping me clean up, Joon” you said to your boyfriend as he carried some dusted boxes to your living room

“No problem babe, I’m glad I can help” he smiled his dimpled smile towards you as he sat on the floor  ready to discard things from the boxes, you making your way to your bedroom to clean your wardrobe until you heard a shriek from where Namjoon was that made you run towards him

“Wh-what is it?!!” 

“Y/N you never told me you were a ballet dancer!” he said in disbelief as he turned your way with a photo of yours in his hand

“Oh yeah… I was just a kid back then” you smiled fondly at the photo and tried to store it once again but Namjoon snatched the photo from your hand

“I’m keeping this”

Ｐａｒｋ Ｊｉｍｉｎ ♡

Jimin was no stranger to classical dance, him being a former contemporary dancer himself. One evening as he was lazing around your apartment he found a photo book that was way too familiar for him.

“Y/N?” you turned towards him handling the small black yearbook in his hands and almost giggled “Why do you have my high school yearbook?” 

“Because…” you trailed off as you took it from him, opening it to show your high school self in one of the photos “It’s mine”

“WHAT NO WAY! Y/N! YOU’RE THAT Y/N?!” he couldn’t believe his eyes as he searched for his own picture a few pages away from yours only to notice that, in fact, you were both in the same high school, just different classes “I had the biggest crush on you back then, how could I never notice?”

“It’s just that I don’t walk around in a high bun and pink tights anymore”

“Well you should,” he said playfully smacking your butt and laughing, still dumbfounded as to why he was just hearing about this.

Ｋｉｍ Ｔａｅｈｙｕｎｇ ♡

With comeback season right behind the corner, BigHit’s studios were filled to a top so the boys had to schedule a room in a dancing academy downtown for after-hours practice, you right by their side as their moral support. A few minutes into their practice, a lady came rushing in almost breathless

“By any chance, any of you can volunteer to give a ballet class to third graders? One of my teachers is sick and-” the boys looked puzzled and you immediately pushed yourself from the floor, ready to take the challenge, even after some years of not dancing.

“I’ll do it”

“Y/N? Third grade is no easy stuff, you know” Taehyung said– as if he knew a thing about ballet

“Third grade you said?” the lady nodded excitedly, “I think I recall the classes, don’t worry about me, you guys keep practising” Tae’s jaw dropped open, he had never heard before that you used to attend ballet classes.

You followed the lady, whom you guessed was the director and completely aced the class, not missing the way Taehyung kept missing his practice to go steal glances at your movements through the door window, completely in awe.

Ｊｅｏｎ Ｊｕｎｇｋｏｏｋ ♡

You never actually quit being a dancer even after finishing high school and not entering a company, so when one of the boys’ dance studio was empty and had the door unlocked you couldn’t hold your excitement as your body started remembering all those times you spent in a studio similar to this one. Putting your phone on shuffle and stretching, the dance of the sugarplum fairy came up and as you closed your eyes it was like your feet had a mind of their own, hitting each step perfectly, ending the song in a perfectly executed courtesy, opening your eyes to an over-excited round of applause from your boyfriend.“Jagi that was- wow I have no words” he came rushing to you, peppering kisses all over your face as you grew embarrassed “It had been a very long time,” you said looking down, suddenly missing the way you were able to dance to the perfect beat.“ You were amazing” he kissed your lips softly “If you teach me, we could dance a duet”“It’s called a pas de deux, Kook” you laughed as he prepared himself to start learning from you.

ＯＴ７ Ｐｌａｔｏｎｉｃ ♡

Bangtan was once again starring on weekly idol, and although they had been in the show before, nothing could have prepared them for what the MCs had in stock for them.

“Okay this is an easy one,” Hyeong-don said as he read from his cards “There’s this one person in your staff that is able to do-wow is this true?” he looked at the producer for confirmation “75 one leg turns in a go, they’re a friend of yours so please guess”

The boys just looked at each other in disbelief, to which Defconn decided to give them a hint 

“They used to be a soloist on Korea’s National Ballet Company” the time announcing that they would receive a punishment was over and you were rushed from backstage to the set, becoming flustered, and the boys’ jaws dropping, from all people they would have never guessed it was you.

“So is it true?” Hyeong-Don asked

“75? yeah, it- it was my personal record” you laughed as the MCs asked you for a demonstration; a few seconds and 80 turns after, ARMY was sure to be fed with amazing meme GIFs from the boys’ reactions to your pirouettes.

[mischiefapprentice]

My Neighbor is a Ballerina (Daniel Henney x OC)

It was already the start of lock-downs in USA, and Daniel Henney cannot help but be bored as the eighth day of quarantine passed. Surely, he is enjoying the company of his fluffy golden retriever Roscoe, but still, he missed going out for shooting different commercials and series he signed in for. There was no one to talk to inside his small home, either. He can only talk to his parents and friends through video calls, and no one is allowed to step out of their homes unless needed.

What to do now? He asks himself as he looked outside. He already have gone for a swim with his dog, he finished his exercise routine, and it strains his eyes to look on the screen for too long. He sighs as he got out, looking for something to tinker on for the rest of the day. His well carved face frown as he sat nearby his own pool, waiting for the brightest idea to pop in his mind. He weakly smiles as he sees Roscoe waddle his way to him, begging to be carried.

"What do we do now, bud? Wow, is this what you feel whenever I am not around?" he jokes. The golden retriever lays its head on Daniel's stomach, relishing in the presence of his good father who he would miss terribly whenever he isn't around. Just then, some sweet classical music filled the area, making his brows raise in curiosity. He walks close to the fence that separated his house to the rest of the neighborhood, finding out who owned the music. He finds on the other side a young woman who is half his age, dancing to the music that played with a gentle grace that can be seen in a pen, a female swan. She had black hair like him, and skin tanned from the rays of the sun. He haven't seen her before. Afraid to interrupt her peace, he became content with watching her by the sidelines, enjoying her small performance by the sun.

It has come to an end when his doorbell rang. Sighing in reluctance to leave, he took a deep breath and headed to the gates of his house, his loyal liege Roscoe trailing from behind. His friend Matthew Gubler greeted him with a smile, even though it was covered with a black N-95 mask. "Got you some groceries!" Matthew smiles as he placed them right on Daniel's feet. "Dude, you didn't have to!" Daniel laughs as he took them in. "But still, thank you for the thought!" "Well, I'd better go now, enjoy your day! And, go get that girl!" Matthew jokes as he hopped on his car and drove away.

Daniel chuckles as he closed the gate with his foot, Roscoe jumping up and down as they went in the house. Matthew is right; he needs to know more about that woman next door.

      "Girl, really. That guy next door is checking you out."

Charleine is busy eating her tossed salad when her friend Carina Chandran gave her a call, and she raised the thing about some guy next door checking her out whilst she danced her way to fantasy world. The young raven haired girl laughs as she hears Carina prattle her worries for her, how she wanted to be there to give the man a piece of her own mind.

"Girl, no need to make a big deal about it." Charleine tells as she swallowed down the water. "But still! You know what, I'm packing up. I am going there." Carina says as Charleine hears her shuffles on her side. "Girl no need, I can handle myself." Charleine insists. "I have a background in Martial Arts, remember?" "Okay, if that's what makes you at ease. Just make sure to be careful, okay?"

Charleine laughs as she put the phone call down. She can imagine how worried her Indian friend was, since there were a lot of men who'd catcall herback before this whole world craze happened. She used to stay in New York City since her job as a dance instructor demanded it. She also joined numerous ballets like Romeo and Juliet, Swan Lake, The Nutcracker, and Sleeping Beauty, and she always gets the lead. Carina Chandran is her childhood friend and neighbor here in Los Angeles, so no wonder why she can see him checking on her.

The next day, she went out to her backyard for another dance for nature, a series she makes for her Instagram account. She will try to catch the guy who Carina was talking about during the phone call. Setting her Bluetooth speaker and camera to where she wanted it to be, she started doing her dance routine she learned for The Nutcracker's dance of the sugar plum princess.

       Daniel immediately ran to the fence where he heard the music that captured his whole being. The same girl was there, unaware of his presence as she danced her heart away to the music that played in the background, which he recognized as a part from The Nutcracker. If he only knew how to dance ballet, he could have jumped over the fence and joined her. He was enchanted with her; he cannot help but stare at her beauty that can be compared to Aphrodite, and marvel at her skills that are as graceful as Odette in Swan Lake. It was a magical enchantment that this young lady uses to men who lays their eyes on her. However, his daydreams were cut off when the young raven haired woman called his attention. "Yoohoo! Sir, are you alright there?" she asks, which makes him tumble down. Loud gasps can be heard from her as she placed a ladder on the fence where she saw him. "Are you okay?" He chuckles as he stood up, thanking the heavens above for not staining his sweatpants and hoodie. "Um, yeah. Thanks for checking." God, why is he being a nervous charmer? He asks himself. He cannot be like this, since he has swooned millions of ladies from around the world, yet this girl's got him smitten to the core. "Oh, where are my manners? I'm Charleine Mercado, and you are?" she introduced herself. "I'm Daniel. So, you're new here?" He asks, trying to hide his anxious self as he starts to know more about this girl. "Not exactly. I used to stay here whenever I am on my break in the theater, and this one's a total break." She replies as she shrugged her shoulders. "You work in a theater?" He asks as he grabbed a small chair and stood on it, just to be able to talk to her a little close, observing the one-meter distance. She nods her head yes as she waited for him to settle himself, asking him if he's comfy enough with standing, which he assures her he's fine with it.

They had a long conversation, and it was already noon when they decided to just exchange social media accounts and talk there whenever they are free. Reluctant that he won't see her for the rest of the day, he sighs as he walked back to his house, waiting patiently as he can for her to talk to him soonest. Roscoe senses Daniel's remorse as the golden retriever lays its head on his lean legs.

       It was already evening when she decided to open up her social media and search for the man she once talked to earlier. She was having a gut feeling that she already saw him in some commercial or television series. Shrugging that thought away, she punched in his username, and the revelation made her eyes widen. "OH. MY. GOD." She decides to call her friend away, who quickly picked up the call.

"Girl, you won't believe who I just talked to this morning," Charleine yells on the phone, her adrenaline rush picking up the fast pace. Her friend gawked at her when she mentioned the name. "WHAT? IT WAS DANIEL HENNEY?" "Yes. We exchanged social media accounts, and it really was him." "Send me a picture of him tomorrow morning! I need enough proof that it's really him." "How about a screenshot video of a 60-second conversation via Skype? We planned to talk tonight."

It was on cue when her Skype account rang loudly in the background, showing Daniel's caller id on her laptop screen. She immediately tells Carina she'll talk to her later, and ran to her seat in front of her laptop. Breathing deeply, she clicked the green button, revealing Daniel and his dog on the other side. His bed hair still looked good on him, and she cannot help but swoon at him. "Hey, Charlie." Daniel groggily greets, groaning as Roscoe hopped on his lap, making her giggle as he cheekily grins back. "Dogs really are a handful, aren't day?" Charleine asks as she eagerly looked at the furry friend. "I'll agree with you on that." Daniel laughs as he puts down Roscoe. He shuffles in his bed as he held on the laptop, walking towards his kitchen island. "So, I suppose you already found the accounts?"

She nods as she looked down at her own Golden Retriever puppy Neve, who begs to be carried. "Yes, and no wonder why you look so familiar. Nice work in Criminal Minds and Big Hero 6, by the way."  She replies as she picks Neve and places the dog on her lap. Daniel's eyes widen as he saw Charleine's little puppy, smiling as he asked her where she got Neve, which Charleine eagerly answers. Daniel smiles as he realizes they had share a lot of common interests, the only difference was their occupations.

"Your name also rang bells in my mind, then I remembered a co-star telling me about your works in ballet. I must say, you did a wonderful job in your performances," Daniel tells her as he settled his laptop down as he started preparing his dinner for tonight. "May I know who told you about me long before this call?" Charleine asks as she grabbed a Shawarma from her side. "Do you by chance know Kirsten Vangsness?" Daniel asks as he grabbed some vegetables from his refrigerator and started chopping them down. Charleine's eyes lit up as he mentioned her friend and mother figure. "Yes I do! She became my mother figure whenever I am not with my parents back in Manila," she smiles as thoughts of Kirsten and her spending time together filled her mind.

They spent hours talking about their work and interests, not noticing the time anymore that they were surprised it's already past midnight when they stopped for a while. "Let's stay up together, I really love talking to you." Daniel pleads as Charleine settles in her bed, letting her bed engulf her in its softness and warmth. "I love to, but I need to get up for my routines later," she tells him, letting out a yawn that Daniel finds cute. "You'll get to talk to me after." "I look forward to that, Charlie. Good morning!"

What a dork, she thought as she waves good night and shut down her computer, her mind filled with thoughts about the new celebrity friend she made.

       Daniel finds himself in a place where music and dance are everywhere. Kids wearing flower crowns and tossing flower petals greet him as he entered the gates of the magical kingdom. He finds himself wearing a cream pirate shirt that showed parts of his chest and leather pants that showed his lean legs well. He feels powerful as he took every step while wearing leather boots that reached his knees. Women swoon as he passed by while looking for a certain woman who he wanted to meet. He soon finds himself at the presence of the king, and was surprised that he introduced himself as a prince from some place far from this kingdom. The king led him to the gardens, where he saw the familiar face of Charleine laughing as she danced with her maids. Her face lit up as she saw him, hearing her father tell everyone to leave them for now. As soon as the maids and the ensemble left, he slowly strode towards her, taking in how beautiful she is as a princess.

"M'lady," he greets her, taking her hand and places a kiss on the back of her hand.

"I shall leave you two to yourselves. Please guard her," the king bade as he took his leave, his footsteps resonating on the tiles. They silently enjoyed the company of each other as he told her of his adventures, from defeating rebels to every mishap he got himself into. Her laughter is already music to his ears. He feels himself falling into her trance, his eyes taking in the view of her wondrous beauty.

       His eyes squint at the feel of his dog licking the sleep off his eyes. He immediately looked around, checking if he wore the same clothes as he had in that dream of his with Charleine. It felt so real that he thought he would awake to ivory pillars and servants roaming around him. Did it really happen? He asks to himself as he got off his bed and prepared Roscoe's breakfast, his mind still stuck to that dream he had today.

It was the same dream Charleine had. She saw herself dancing with her maids in the pavilions, laughing as merriment and joy filled their surroundings. Her eyes lit as she saw Daniel in a pirate-like clothing, but can be easily identified as a prince. Charleine filled her friend Carina about this weird dream, but she was told that it is her subconscious thinking about the actor, and people tend to see their thoughts in their dreams when they think deeply about it and fell asleep.  She let's it pass for now, but she knew that there was something behind it.

They both smile at each other as Charleine got out to her backyard, while Daniel stood at the fence that separated them, eager to watch her do her morning routine. "What's with that wide smile, Henney?" Charleine asks as she stood in front of him, hands at her hips in a sassy fashion. He chuckles. "Nothing, I am just happy that I get to see a new friend here. It really gets lonely whenever I am not with other people physically." "Well, I cannot blame you for that." Charleine tells as she started playing the music, this time from Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake.

       "Wait, so you had the same dream as mine?"

They both talked over Skype again, making sure to be reminded of the time now. She almost had problems getting up earlier, and good thing she still managed to set her body clock. Daniel told Charleine about this dream he had earlier, and it is coincidental that they both were in there. They had exact details as the other, making them wonder how come they had the same dream. "I don't know, it was just... Coincidental. Maybe my friend Carina is right, it must be a work of our subconscious and the deep thoughts." Charleine shrugs as she took a bite of her homemade shawarma wrap. "I suppose so." Daniel agrees. "How's quarantine so far?" She asks. "Well, still hanging here. Gosh, this drives me crazy as hell." He sighs, making her chuckle. "You're not alone."

That was the last time they talked.

Daniel had to fly to Korea to attend to some important matters his management has raised. He didn't get to talk to her for the last time before he headed to the airport, which made him feel miserable during his stay here. Well, he tried to play his favorite sport and get his mind on the things he have to do here before he gets back to Los Angeles. He still tried to reach out to Charleine, but she never responded. Worrying that something happened to her, he tried to call Kirsten, who fortunately picked up the call. "Daniel! So good to hear from you!" the ever cheery actress beams, making the half Korean laugh. "Yeah, I missed you all! How are you?" he queries as he mentally planned how to get Charleine in the conversation. "Feeling bored, since there was no one to talk to except my cat here," Kirsten sighs. "So, I heard that you met my ballerina friend already?" Daniel smiles when she mentioned the woman who got his whole being. "Yes, and I was about to ask you about her. She wasn't responding to any of my calls and emails." "Oh, she told me she's going to have a week off in using social media. She actually asked me to tell you about it, and she says sorry in advance if ever this happens." Kirsten chuckles, making Daniel smile weakly. He cannot wait to talk to her again.

       It was a week when Charleine took a break off the social media. She wanted to take a break off the world's madness since this year started. Her eyes widen as she opened up her chats, revealing lots of missed calls and 'how are you' texts from her new friend Daniel Henney. He sent a voice mail that says:

Hey Charlie...

I don't know when you'd be back in social media, but if you ever receive this, I am probably in Seoul already, since I had to attend to some matters here, just like what I said during our last talks. Charlie, if I ever get back there in LA, I want to... Ugh. Never mind. I just want to let you know that I already miss you and those small talks we had whenever I watch you dance. If I could rush things over, I would have done it in a heartbeat. I would do everything if it means to see you again. It's already late here, and I should get some sleep. I am in the 14 day quarantine period, and I got a negative result.

"I made him wait, Neve." she tells her golden retriever puppy, who in return looked at her with its doe eyes as it sensed her bereft. She sighs as she looked at other messages he dropped:

Hey Charlie! I am missing you so much already!

How are you?

Did you eat already?

When are you going to post another dance in your Instagram?

Are you alright?

You know you can talk to me whenever you got something bothering your mind, right?

"That's it, I'm waiting for the right time to call him." She says to herself as she typed in her reply to all those messages and voicemails he sent her during the week off the media.

Hi Dan!

Kirsten probably told you already that I took a week off the media, since I got stressed with what is happening with the world right now. My godmother also nearly got my nerves, so I decided to do so. I'm sorry if I got you worried for me 24/7, but now you can talk to me anytime again. Just note the time, one of us might miss the complete sleep we need to be energetic the next day. Hope to talk to you soon!

       His eyes immediately land on the message she just sent him, making him smile in victory as he read it multiple times. He immediately opened his Skype and gave Charleine a call, having high hopes that she'd answer it in a flash. He quickly checked himself on the mirror app on his phone, but stopped when he heard giggles from the other side of the line. "Hey, you don't need to check your self on your mirror, Vanity Boy." she quirks, making him smirk. "Liked that new nickname, Ms. Ballerina." he comments back, making the girl smirk back at him. "So, how's the week off social media?" She weakly smiles as she looked down, taking Neve in her arms. "It's relaxing, since I got to connect with myself once again after all this madness happened. How about you? You said you are in Korea, right?" "Oh yeah. I got a negative test result, and I can go to all the places where my manager told me to go to." Daniel cheekily grins at her, making her shake her head in annoyance, but a smile still plastered on her lips. "I already saw that dance you uploaded, and I must say, it's still different if I saw it live." "You little stalker," she laughs as he chuckles. Daniel finds himself falling for her even more as the days pass.

       After a few weeks of fixing up things in Korea, he immediately took a flight back to Los Angeles, eager to see Charleine again. His mother teases him on his little crush on the well-known ballerina, making him groan in feign dismay. His father, unfortunately, helps his mom with teasing him about it. But deep in his mind, he is glad that his parents are supportive with whoever he wants. He isn't pressured with what kind of girl he should date and marry, as long she is kind and understanding, he's willing to keep up with her.

It was another spring morning, and he is patiently waiting for her music to play. The small ladder he climbs on is already set, and he just needs to hear her music. Just as some random music played, he scrambles to the ladder, just in time for her to start dancing. She laughs as she saw how messed up his hair was, making her stop dancing. "Why did you run all the way?" She chuckles as she stood on her toes, messing his now messy hair as she laughs. "I just didn't want to miss my friend dancing," Daniel chuckles. "I missed you!" "I missed you too, dummy." She says. "Um about that voicemail you sent..." "Oh yes about that, I actually wanted to ask you on a date out, but there's quarantine, so..." "You know we can just hang out in the backyards, right?" "Oh. Yeah. HOW COME I FORGOT ABOUT IT?" "Stop overthinking, Tadashi Hamada." "How can I not, if I am standing in front of Juliet Capulet?"

 After a few days of Daniel planning their first date, now is the day they finally get to be together up close, since they both got their negative swab test results. He made sure that the house is well disinfected, there is no mess around, and lastly, he'd make her smile with his charms and quirks. It is only a few hours before night falls beautifully, just like in La La Land. Clad in just his button up shirt and black fitting slacks, he casually waited by his gate, hoping she'd show up. He immediately opened the gate, revealing Charleine in a simple pink dress and some sandals. She shyly waved as Daniel let her in. 

"Hey... Looking good tonight, I see?" Charleine smiles as Daniel guides her inside his home, her eyes widening at how simple and elegant it is. "You've got a nice house here." "Well, thank you. I'd reckon yours is better than this," Daniel replies as he eyed the package Charleine brought in. "Oh no, no,  no. Did you make food as well?" "I did, it would be rude on my part if I didn't bring something, right?" the girl asks, looking down on the floor. Daniel sighs as he held her hands in his. "You didn't have to, Charlie... But, it's okay, as long it's from the thought. I'd wager this is the best pasta I'll ever taste." Daniel tells her as he leads her to the pool area, the feeling of romance can be felt in the air as the candle-lit table stood nearby the very fence where they both met. She cannot help but smile as he pulled a chair for her, a dinner for two already filling the air as the aromatic scent fills her nostrils. "I'll serve your Bolognese spaghetti later after this," Daniel tell her as they started to eat under the moonlight that coincidentally shone above them along with the stars. They talked about various things, ranging from his stay in Korea to random jokes they saw in the net. It was already late in the night when they finished eating. Her eyes widen as she heard one of her favorite songs from La La Land playing in the background, and Daniel offers his hand as he pulls her into his arms for a dance.

Silence enveloped the two of them as the song ends, the two enjoying the warmth of the other as the time passes. Her eyes widen when her watch shows it's already a quarter to midnight. "Daniel, I need to get back already." she tells as she reluctantly pulls away from their little waltz. "You can sleep here. I'll take the couch, it's actually past curfew." Daniel tells her as he held her hand tightly but gently. "Are you sure? I don't want to be a nuisance to you, Daniel." Charleine asks, worrying that she might be interrupting any important matters. "I am sure, so don't chicken out. I actually can borrow one of my shirts and sweatpants for you to sleep on."

She silently watched him pick one white shirt and gray sweatpants from his closet. She cannot help but swoon at how fit this man is. He already changed into a black sleeveless shirt and a pair of white pajamas, leaving his bathroom for her use. "This one would do," Daniel tells as he placed them beside her. He cannot help but look at her wounded feet that were barely covered by the slippers a hotel gave him before. "Change into those, I'll just find the ointment for those bruises on your feet."

"Is it still aching?"

She winces in pain as he massaged some parts of her foot, rubbing in the ointment his mother once used on him when he suffered the same bruises as hers. She cannot help but yelp in pain, tears starting to spill on her eyes. Daniel immediately sat beside her, pulling her into a hug as she started to cry. "I'm sorry , I'm sorry." He whispers to her as he kissed the top of her head.

"I'm alright, Dan. It's just I cannot fight the pain," She whimpers. "I'll be here always, okay?" Daniel whispers. "I love you."

Her eyes widen as she heard those three words that can alter her life in an instant. A famous celebrity has fallen for her. "Hear me out, Charlie. I started falling for you since the day Kirsten started talking about you during Criminal Minds shooting and script readings. She is right about you being so strong, soft-hearted, smart, wise and beautiful. It's okay if you don't share the same feelings as-"

She gave him a peck on the cheek that made him stop rambling. He grins widely as he pulled her into a heartwarming hug and kissed her head many times. "You also got me from the start, Dan. It was when Kirsten told me about you whenever we meet up in New York City, and she told me that I would be able to meet you soon. So, here we are." She chuckles as he pressed his lips on her forehead, making her giggle. "Let's get you to sleep now. You might call me a knucklehead when you wake up late," he jokes as he pulls her down beside him on the softest bed Charleine has imagined.

       "Well, your boyfriend is here."

It was a year after the pandemic, and everything went back to normal. Carina and Charleine got their new assignments in Los Angeles, making it easy for the new lovers to meet up anytime they want. Daniel would pass by the American Contemporary Ballet, where she worked and performed. Carina would tease her about it, making her chuckle and playfully slap her. Some of their closest friends would drop by to see her, since some of their kids are under her class. It touched her that all of them really look at her like their second mom, and she dreams of having a family soon.

"My Prima Ballerina," Daniel mumbles as he buries his face on her hair, making her chuckle as she pulled away. "Danny, I sweat." Charleine tells as she wiped the sweat off her brow. "So what? You don't complain when I smell like Roscoe!" Daniel laughs. "Um, Charlie? Can I ask you something?"

She nods her head, but her eyes widen when she watched Daniel kneel on one knee, revealing a diamond ring on a red velvet box. Tears prick her eyes as he started rambling the most affectionate speech she has ever heard from him. Kirsten, AJ, Joe and the others are there, smiling at the most awaited moment.

Charleine Mercado. The moment I heard your name from Kirsty, I knew there was something with you that made me fall for you. Even though we haven't met long before that madness happened, I started longing for you. You were everything Kirs told me about you: you are smart, gay, loving, gentle, caring and among other things I wanted in a woman. Last year has been a blessing in disguise for me. If it weren't for it, maybe I wouldn't realize that I am just right beside this woman I have been seeking for god knows how long. That moment you told me your name, I said to myself: you are the one. Charlie, I know it has been a year since we started dating and become something more, and I want to be promoted to another position in your life. Will you do the honor of becoming my wife and marry me?

Charlie started tearing up tears of joy as she nodded her head yes, tackling Daniel in the tightest but gentle hug. He slips the ring on her right ring finger, and kissed it.

[cruecifymesixx]

Love and Leather /part forty one/

Word Count: 6k

A/N: Ya’ll the amount of love i got for the last chapter was fucking incredible! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Here’s your birthday present, @zoenicoles! Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Nikki coming back from the dead, language, drugs, some cute nikki and vanity flashbacks

Taglist:  @brideofdraculana , @aryssav , @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol , @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies, @anntheboneless, @tiranni, @venus-calum, @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @are-we-real, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland, @baiabouk @awesomealmostdopestudent, @martabastic, @romanticvengeance , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox, @brooklyn-antiques, @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @lunamadhatter99, @broke-n-bitchy,  @thanks2pete, @slowandangry, @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @swoopygorl, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001, @wheresmyvodkabitch, @waywardprincess666, @malibubarbievince, @iluvmesomemarvelndc, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer@electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @miss2001babe, @nassauartist @emmaelizabeth2014, @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120@xrosegoldwolfx, @cranberribread. @fandomshit6000, @beachystars, @xstarryeyes, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @dillightfulpickle, @marvelismylifffe

December 23rd, 1987

I sat at the diner, waiting for someone else to come in. I had two hours left on my shift, and so far everything has been a complete shit show today.

I sat on the barstool with my legs crossed as my eyes gazed over to a teenage couple. The girl was wearing this flowy light pink dress, her hair was done up in a bun and had flowers poking out of the sides. She looked like a ballerina. Her boyfriend, he was wearing all black. Black combat boots, black jeans, black under shirt, black leather jacket. His hair was messy and he had a bulky skull ring on his finger. They were sharing a chocolate peanut butter milkshake together as they held hands. They reminded me of Nikki and myself.

I sighed as I turned around to face Lucia who was pouring salt and pepper into their respective shakers.

“I’m ready to go home.” I pouted as I rested my head in the palm of my hand.

“Why?so you can stuff your face with ice cream and cry yourself to sleep?” She outed me as I scoffed.

“Um, I traded ice cream for frosted animal cookies like a week ago, and I haven’t cried in a couple of nights, thank you very much.” I rolled my eyes as I watched her.

“You going home for Christmas?” She questioned as I shook my head, “No, mom took Greyson and Sage on a cruise until after New Years. So I’ll be by myself.” She looked at me with sad eyes.

“Stop, it’s fine. It’s all good.” I shrugged as I turned around when the bell rang over the door.

A group of drunk guys, awesome.

“Hey guys, welcome to-“ “Can we just skip straight do dessert?” The tall blonde asked, grabbing me by arm and pulling me to him. I was quick to shove away from him.

“Behave, all of you or get the hell out.” I spat at them. They laughed at their blonde friend before pulling him into the booth.

I took their orders and was walking to the kitchen, when another waiter, Jenny walked out. She had a tray full of food and bumped into me. The hot chili cheese fries going all over my apron.

I closed my eyes and exhaled, “I’m so sorry Vanity, I...I didn’t mean too, I’m so sorry.” She was repetitive, I think it was cause she was still new

“It’s fine, just clean it up and tell the customers it’s gonna be another Ten minutes.” I ordered as she was quick to do what I said.

I sighed as I pulled the apron off of me, throwing it into the dirty bin as I grabbed another one, “Here’s my orders Rubio.” I said, handing him the meal ticket.

I walked back out, seeing that Jenny was having a difficult time with her guests. I groaned as I walked over.

“Hi, what seems to be the problem?” I asked, “How long does it really take to get me my damn chili cheese fries? It’s not that damn hard to make!” He snapped at me.

“Sir, we apologize. But we make the freshest of fries. May I offer you a complementary beer?” I asked, motioning to the empty mug.

“I...I uh, yes I would like another one. Thank you.” I smiled at him as I handed the mug to her.

“Always, always offer them free beer. It calms them down.” I reassured Jenny.

“I’m going to take a smoke break.” I told Lucia as she nodded.

I grabbed my jacket and stepped outside. It was a bit chilly. I looked at the busy street of the sunset strip.

My mind drifted to Nikki, as it usually does the past month. He won’t talk to me. None of the guys will, not even T-bone. I tried calling Doc, but he tells me to let it go. I can’t just let it go. I need to tell him I-

“Vanity! Foods ready! And Nikki’s on the TV! Hurry!” Lucia yelled, frantically motioning for me.

“Nikki’s always on the TV.” I said as I grabbed the tray of food, she held the door open for me. “No! Look!” She said as she pointed up to the tv that was in the corner, we always kept it on MTV when Francisco wasn’t working.

We’ve received unconfirmed reports that Mötley Crüe bassist Nikki Sixx has died of an apparent drug overdose.

The tray of food slipped from my fingertips, Lucia was in my face talking but I couldn’t hear her. It was like everything turned off and the world stopped. I stared at the TV, seeing a video of him playing the bass.

“I...I have to go.” I stuttered, blinking away tears. I felt my heart beating in my ears.

“Okay, Van....lets just sit down, okay? Let’s take a bre-“ “Nikki’s dead?” I asked her, she looked at the TV as it wouldn’t stop playing.

“Maybe...maybe it’s just a joke and he’s-“ “That’s such a fucked up joke!” I yelled out but she hushed me.

“Come.” She said grabbing my hand and pulling me out the back door. The moment we stepped outside I kicked over a trash can.

“He can’t be fucking dead!! He-he can’t just leave me like that!! I...I have to go...I need to go find him.” I cried out, trying to walk back inside but the door wasn’t opening

“Why isn’t this god damn door opening!!” I sobbed, tears running down my face as I kept trying to open it. Lucia came over, looking at me with sad eyes again as she used her key to unlock it.

I took off my apron and my work shirt, as I had a undershirt on. I pulled on my jacket and grabbed my keys and purse, “I have to go! Just take care of everything!” I shouted at her, before running out the door and to my car.

I sat in my car, trying to calm myself down before I started driving. Nikki isn’t dead. He can’t be dead. He’s done so much god damn drugs he has to be immune to them by now. Right?

I became pissed off as I started slamming my hand against the steering wheel, “God damnit!” I cried in frustration. I rested my forehead against the steering wheel as I tried to control my breathing. I took a few seconds and then started the car and smoking cigarette after cigarette until I became lightheaded.

I turned on the radio to help keep me sane as the silence was killing me. But every Rock station was saying the same thing, Nikki Sixx was dead.

“Shut up!!” I screamed at the radio before changing the station once again. I started balling my eyes out when I heard Def Leppard’s “Love Bites”.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” I sobbed, wiping my eyes with my shirt. He can’t be fucking gone! He can’t do this to me!

I pulled up to his house in Van Nuys, punching in the code to the security box. I waited until the gates were open and then drove up. I quickly turned off the car, jogging over to his front door and walking inside.

“Nikki!!” I yelled out for him, turning on the lights of his living room.

“Nikki! Are you here!” I yelled again, taking the stairs two at a time until I was walking down the hallway to his room, I pushed open the door. His bed was made for once, the leather jacket he always wears was laying on top.

I looked over to the closed doors of his closet. I shook my head, feeling my bottom lip tremble as I walked over to it. I opened the doors but he wasn’t in there. In his place were needles galore and enough alcohol bottles to make an alcoholic throw up.

I closed the doors before leaning against them, maybe he’s just out with the guys- the guys!!!! I need to get ahold of them!

I rushed downstairs to his kitchen, going over to the landline before picking it up and trying to call Tommy first. I waited patiently but there was no answer. I groaned as i hung up the phone

One by one, I had called Mick, Vince, Doc, And Tom. I even went ahead and called Motley’s body guard and their publicist. Not a single soul answered their phones. I put my head in my hands, leaning against the counter as I cried.

I forced myself away from the counter, dragging my feet up to his room. I felt as all time had stopped around me. Nothing felt real anymore. I opened the door to his bedroom, walking over to his bed before crawling into the middle of it. His black satin sheets smelt like his cologne, I clutched the pillow he sleeps on when we share the bed together.

*Flashback*

September ‘82

“Nikki?” My words were slurred as I tried keeping my focus on him. Ever since I came back from visiting my parents, I have a new found friendship with Mötley Crüe. They were pretty cool guys, except they always found a way to get me extremely fucked up, and tonight’s party at Nikki’s house was no exception.

“Yes, doll?” Nikki said, putting his hands on my waist to help keep my balance, “You good?” He asked, a look of concern written across his face.

“I don’t want you to think I’m lame, but I need to lay down.” I giggled as I gripped his shoulders. He smiled at me, before taking my hand and leading me up the stairs.

“Watch your step.” He told me, as I kept looking down at the stairs so I wouldn’t trip. He led me to a room and when he opened the door it was his bedroom.

I let go of his hand as I looked around his room. The furniture was a dark mahogany, the curtains were black and his bed sheets and comforter were blood red, “Do you want to wear the dress or one of my shirts?” He asked, digging through his closet.

“Can I have a shirt? This dress is suffocating me.” I said as I kicked of my heels and sat on his bed. I took a deep breath in and exhaled, god the room was fucking spinning.

He let out a laugh as he handed me the shirt, “uh...can you turn around?” I asked him, he nodded and faced the other way.

“I can tell T-bone to lay off the zombie dust and the blow if you want?” He asked as I started taking the dress off.

“Zombie dust yes, blow...no.” I said as I shimmied the dress down my legs before kicking it at him as I saw him try to turn his head.

“Hey! No peeking!” I shouted, stumbling onto his bed as I lost my balance.

He laughed, “I’ll see you naked one day, I’m not too worried.”

I put the shirt on, seeing that it was an old T-Rex shirt. I smiled, he always wore this one.

“And what makes you so sure about that?” I asked, trying to walk over to him. He turned around and faced me.

He shrugged, “I just know I will.” He smirked down at me, I hate that smirk of his. It’s so damn cocky.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Sixx. It’s never gonna happen.” I said, toying with the necklaces that laid against his bare chest that was poking out from underneath the half buttoned shirt.

My gaze met his glazed over eyes, he moved the curls out from my face. His hand rested against the side of my cheek as he lowered his head down, I tried taking a step back from him but he snaked his arm around my waist and wouldn’t let me go. He pulled me closer to him, my chest hitting his torso. I felt my heart race as he licked his lips. I couldn’t take my eyes away from his lips.

“Let’s get you in bed.” He whispered, he smiled before letting me go. I nodded quickly as he walked me over to the bed, pulling the blankets down so I could get in before he threw them on me.

I pulled them up to my chin as I watched him get undressed. I stopped watching, pulling the blankets over my head when I saw him undo his belt buckle. A few moments later, I felt the bed shift as he got in beside me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, peeking my head out and looking at him. He was on his back as he tilted his head over to look at me, “I’m going to bed, what does it look like?”

I furrowed my eyebrows, “But I’m sleeping here, can’t you go somewhere else?” I questioned, my tone coming off as snobby. He let out a laugh as he tucked his hands under his head.

“You’re telling me to get out of my own bed?” He asked, giving me a curious look.

“N-no, I just, You still have guests here...” I trailed off, still hearing the music from downstairs.

“They’ll leave when they’re ready.” He said, turning on his side to face me, as he took most of the blankets away.

“Hey asshole, give me some blankets.” I said, tugging them away from his grip.

“If we laid closer together we wouldn’t be having this issue, Princess.” I scoffed at his remarks.

“As if.” I rolled my eyes, “Stay on your side and don’t touch me.” I warned him as he grinned. I turned on my side and had my back facing him.

“You know, That’s the first time a chick has ever said not to touch her while she’s in my bed.” Nikki explained as I shook my head.

“Shut up.” I said, pulling the blankets up over my head, as an attempt to drown him out.

“How about you make me?” I heard him chuckle. I sat up in bed, “I’d rather sleep outside then in the same bed as you.” I took the blankets off but stopped when he grabbed my wrist.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop, I’d rather you sleep in my bedroom than the guest room. People know not to come in here.” Nikki said, his grip subsiding as I laid back down.

“Stop looking at me.” I said through closed eyes, as i could feel him hovering over me.

“You won’t let me fuck you and you won’t even let me look at you...What do you want me to do? Just ignore you?”

“Who said I wouldn’t let you fuck me?” I smirked, opening my eyes as he studied my face.

“You just assumed that because I decline your advances and make you work for it.” I smiled in his face, gently patting his cheek as he exhaled deeply.

“Well, it’s annoying. You’re annoying.” He grumbled, plopping back down on his side of the bed.

“Once you get to know me, you’ll fall in love with me.” I told Nikki as he laughed.

“Alright drunky, I’ll be waiting for that day. Go to bed.”

*End Flashback*

That was the first night I shared a bed with him, the following morning was the first time out of many attempts to get into my pants. God damnit, Nikki. I sobbed into the pillow. How could he just be dead? I needed more time....I needed more time with him.

*next morning, Nikki’s POV*

I stumbled up the driveway, turning around to wave goodbye to the girls that had picked me up at the hospital. Did I really fucking die? Did I really shoot up that much heroin to cause my heart to stop beating and my body to shut down on itself?

I groaned as I bent over, grabbing the spare key from underneath the flower pot. My whole body felt like it was on fire my joints kept locking up on me. I walked over to the door, swinging it open as it unlocked. I leaned into the door, resting against it as I looked around the house. It was deathly quiet and it was rather cold in here, I should open up some windows.

My eyes darted over to the kitchen, my throat was dry and hurting. I needed some water, and then to pass out for a while.

I dragged my feet, feeling as if weights were attached to me. I hated feeling like this, but I did it all to myself. I gripped the kitchen counter, grabbing a cup before filling it up. I couldn’t control the trembling of my hand as the glass met my lips, I didn’t even care that half of the water was dribbling down my chin and onto my bare chest.

I put the glass down, gripping the counters as I stared down into the sink. I closed my eyes as I tried to collect my thoughts.

“Fuck.” I muttered to myself, shaking my head as I stood up straight and looked out the window to my back yard. I turned around when I heard a light gasp. Oh, Vanity. I am so fucking relieved to see you.

She stood across from me with puffy blood shot eyes. Tears were falling down her face as she covered her mouth with her hand, sobbing into it. My eyes widened at the pain written all over her face. Did she know what happened?

“Wh-what are you doing here?” I winced at how horrible my voice sounded, it was like going through puberty all over again.

“Nikki…” She croaked, taking hesitantly slow steps towards me. She reached for me, placing her hand on the side my face. I closed my eyes, feeling as if I was melting into her touch.

“You’re here…you’re alive….but, but all the radio stations and MTV…” She trailed off, getting choked up by more crying.

“Of course I am…the devil didn’t want to give up his throne just yet.” I muttered, breaking into a small smile, but she just stared at me and rolled her eyes as she wiped her face.

“Nikki! This isn’t a time to be fucking funny! I thought you were dead!!! The whole world thought you were dead!!” She weeped, choking on her own breath.

I was concerned, how long had she been here for? I wasn’t at the hospital long…I don’t think.

I had no time to react as Vanity hugged me, squeezing me tight, “Ow.” I moaned, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. I breathed in the scent of perfume.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” I whispered into the top of her head as she continued to cry on me, feeling her hot tears drop onto my bare chest.

“What….What is that?” She trembled, pulling away as she brushed her finger over the giant dark purple bruise that was on top of where my heart lays.

I rubbed my eyes as I looked down at the bruise and her red nail that didn’t move away from it, “Adrenaline shots, it took two of them to get me back. Apparently the guy was a fan.”

My gaze met hers as she stared at me through teary eyes, “Nikki, I love you.”

I dry swallowed the lump in my throat as I stared at her, I couldn’t muster up any words to say. By the look and tears on her face, plus the glimmer of nervousness written all over, I could tell she was serious.

She stuttered, “I…I’m…I’m in love with you. And I am so sorry you had to die to make me realize it.”

She ran her fingers through her hair, “I spent the whole night crying. I…I came here after work hoping that it was a sick cruel joke but you weren’t here and the house was cold, and, and nobody would answer my calls, I know I fucked up and I’ve missed you so fucking much and I am-“

I swiftly kissed her, tasting the saltiness of her tears on our lips. I pulled away and rested my forehead on hers, “I love you too.” I pecked her lips once more, “So damn much.”

“Don’t ever leave me again. I don’t want to be without you…ever.” She warned as I nodded.

“I’m done with drugs. I’m done with letting everyone down and I’m done with being unhappy.” I told her, rubbing the back of my neck.

“I’m so sorry for everything with Slash. I don’t know why I was being like that…I should’ve just listened to you.” She looked down at the floor like a scolded child, “I should’ve never slept with him.” She added on, finally looking up at me.

“It’s fine.” I quickly brushed it off, I didn’t want to think of it ever again.

“He was with me, at the hotel when I Uh…” I started saying, but I was feeling as my skin was crawling. He was fucked up too, Stevens girlfriend had to get him in the shower to wake him up.

“I figured as much, he told me you showed it to him. Why would you do that? Just so he can ruin his life and body too?” I rolled my eyes as I leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Vanity god damn it….everything hurts right now okay? I feel like everything inside my body is burning. I don’t want to argue. Just-just can you please get me something? I’m starving.” I expressed. She looked at me, I couldn’t even begin to imagine the last time I ate, let alone took a shower

She nodded, “I have to go to the store then, you have no food….just stay here, shower and I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She said as she, grabbed her keys and jacket from the couch. She put my hand on his chest, “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.” She repeated herself, I nodded as I watched her walk out the front door.

I stayed downstairs to hear her leave. When she drove out the security gates, I slowly walked up the stairs. Y’know, fuck the drugs. I don’t need them I can get clean. I can do the whole sober thing. I can do it, I want to do it.

I walked up to my bedroom, glancing in the mirror of the bathroom. God I looked fucking horrible, I looked like a zombie. I closed my eyes, shaking my head. I need to call everyone, she’s the only one that knows I’m not dead.

I sat in front of my telephone and recorded a new voicemail, “Hey…it’s me Nikki, I can’t come to the phone right now…because I’m dead.”

I cursed at myself as I stood up straight, eyes meeting the only place in the world I felt safe in, with my guns and drugs by my side.

I closed the doors behind me, sitting down on the floor as I melted junk on a spoon, over and over and over again. Until I felt nothing. I still didn’t feel nothing, I felt dizzy and numb. Fuck! I wish I can stop this self destruction, it’s not fucking fun anymore!

I stood up, wobbling around as I looked into the already cracked mirror, laughing at myself. My laughter soon turned to tears of pain, before a rush of anger went through me. I glared at myself before punching the mirror again, finally shattering it into a pieces. I grimaced as my knuckles were busted up.

I stumbled onto the floor, eyes half shut as I laid down. Maybe this way would be better. Maybe dying with my drugs and Tom’s guns and my rockstar clothes by my side. What a perfect way to be found.

*Vanity’s POV*

After a short while later, and an unexpected trip to work since Francisco had left me in charge over the holidays, I was back at Nikki’s.

“Nikki! I’m back! I tried calling and you need to change that god awful voicemail. That’s not even remotely funny!” I yelled out, putting the paper bags full of groceries on the counter. Hm, he must be in the shower.

“Nikki?” I called out as I walked up the stairs and too his bedroom. I didn’t hear water running, but I saw the doors to his drug haven were half open.

I exhaled, putting my hand on my stomach as I was becoming nauseous. I stared at the doors before walking over to them. Please don’t be in there. Please don’t be in there.

I pushed the doors open, to find him laying on the floor. A needle was still in his arm as blood was prickling down it.

“Oh, you son of a bitch. Wake up!” I yelled, lightly kicking his foot. I stared at him waiting for him to move but he didn’t. I furrowed my eyebrows as I dropped down to my knees in front of him.

“Nikki? Wake up.” I said as I patted his cheek and shook his shoulder. He finally groaned and a huge sigh of relief rushed over me.

He looked down at his arm, seeing a bent needle and blood dripping down as it puddled in his hand. I saw his eyes begin to water up, probably realizing he was still alive and he wasn’t going to to die so easily as the first time.

I stared at him. He needed the help, and I know he wants it. Heroin had him choking and injecting only made breathing a little easier. Now it was ruining him. Killing him. This use to be tolerable for everyone involved, including me. This whole time he was probably screaming for help and nobody listened to him. I didn’t listen to him.

He looked up at me, seeing that I was just as scared as he was. The tears in his eyes trickled out as he let out a sob, “Fuck!”

I cupped his jaw, his tears falling onto my hands, “Nikki, you need to go to rehab and you need to stay there for a while. Your addiction is too much for you to handle on your own. You have to go.”

“Ple-please don’t leave me.” He choked out, as he grabbed my hands. He cursed. “Shit blood, fuck, I’m sorry.” He moved his hands away from me, “I…I hit a mirror.” I turned my cheek and saw broken glass everywhere.

I looked down at my hands, feeling nauseous as I felt the warmth of his blood and the metallic scent hitting my nose, “Sixx, I was only gone for an hour and a half.” I mumbled as I wiped my hands on the shirt I was wearing.

My eyes wandered to the track marks that ran all across his body, I could only imagine the ones out of view, “I need help, Vanity. I can’t do this anymore…I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want this…” he cried as he grabbed the bent needle that was stuck in his arm, tearing it out of his skin before he threw it away from us.

“This…this shit is going to kill me..” he sighed as he laid back down, but rested his head on my lap. I ran my hands over his hair, trying to smooth it out. He sniffled a few times as I felt his tears soak into my jeans.

“This shit already killed you, Nikki. I told you to fucking stop months ago. You need serious help. You need a drug counselor, you need a therapist, you need all of it.” I expressed my dismay as I leaned over and kissed the side of his temple.

“Not just you, but the whole band needs to go. You all need help, Tommy is gonna be next if he continues.” I wiped my eyes, thinking about loosing any of them. Even Malibu Barbie, Vince.

“I-I know they’ll do it…Tommy will, if I go he will go too…” He trembled, “I’m sorry Van….I’m so sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry. I know you’re sorry, I know what I was getting myself into. I knew what I was signing up for from the moment this started, Nikki.”

He continued to rest his head against my legs, I noticed his eyes were having a hard time staying open, “I’ll call Doc…and we’ll have a group meeting and find a rehab. Please stay here…please. I need to throw all of it away.”

I looked around at all the drugs and paraphernalia that littered his closet, “You need to show me every spot in this house where you hid the drugs and I’ll get them out.”

“I love you, I love you so much.” He mumbled into my skin before weakly standing up. He walked over to a box and opened it up. I quickly closed it and took it from him. It took us over an hour to show where he hid everything. He hid it in his closet obviously, behind the headboard of his bed. The bathroom, taped in a plastic bag in the toilet. He had used rigs tucked away underneath the couch cushions in the living room. He told me he would buy in bulk, so he kept most of the drugs in the freezer so they would stay potent. I followed him around the mansion for over an hour with a trash bag.

When we were done, I took the trash bag to the can outside and then took the can to the curb outside his gate.

I walked back into the kitchen and immediately washed my hands, scrubbing away his dried blood as well as sticky heroin residue. When I was finished I rested my head in my hands, leaning against the sink as i took a moment to collect my thoughts.

Nikki cleared his throat, I turned around to look at him, “I’m… I’m gonna take a shower…” he said quietly as he looked at the floor, “Did you get food? I am really hungry. I haven’t ate in three days.”

I nodded, “Um yeah…I can make chicken Alfredo…it’s um-“ I stopped and laughed at myself, “It’s the only thing I know how to cook…” I trailed off as I saw his lips pull into a small smile.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He reassured me as I grabbed a pan and put it on the stove.

I felt his eyes following me as I searched for things around the kitchen, “Thought you were going to shower?” I questioned as he nodded.

“Yeah I am…just, thank you.” He said, trying to come near me but I stopped him by putting my hand on his chest, “Van, I’m sorry.” He pleaded with me, taking my hand off his torso and placing a gentle kiss as he smiled at me.

“Go shower, Nikki.” I said, taking my hand away from him. He soon left and went upstairs.

*an hour later*

I finished cooking as I scraped the bottom of the pan. I mean, can you really blame me? I never really learned to cook as Loretta always cooked every meal when I was younger and Tonya cooks for us back at the house.

But it tasted okay at least. It wouldn’t be served at a five star restaurant that’s for sure.

“Your phone won’t stop ringing.” I spoke to Nikki as he walked in and sat at the table, pushing bottles of alcohol to the side to make room for us.

“Yeah, well they can wait.” He said before stuffing his face with the food. I was waiting for him to react badly to it but he didn’t.

“This..is really fucking good. I didn’t know you can cook.” He said, mouth full of food. He was probably saying that to spare my feelings, and probably cause he hasn’t ate in a couple of days.

I laughed as I sat down next to him, “I don’t know how to cook. But I can make this, Mac and cheese, a grilled cheese sandwich, scrambled eggs, and a nice bowl of cereal.” I explained, as I poked the food around the plate.

He laughed as he wiped his face, “No, really this is good. Thanks for going to get groceries. I’ve been meaning to do it..” he trailed off, continuing to shovel food into his mouth.

“You should call doc, maybe the band…let them know you’re alive.” I suggested as he looked at me.

“I am, I will. But later.” He said as I shook my head, “After you finish, I mean it Nikki.” I ordered as he nodded and continued eating.

After we were both done, he went into the living room to make some calls as I stayed behind and tried to clean up his disgusting kitchen. It was like the counters have never been wiped down. I wiped my hands on a dish towel as I threw the remaining empty bottles away.

I heard yelling coming from the other room, he didn’t sound happy.

I heard him slam the phone down, then a bottle shattering, his foot steps found their way to me.

“Everything good, rockstar?” I asked, hopping up on the counter and taking a sip of my glass of wine.

“Everything is not all good.” He said, coming over to me and taking my glass before chugging it. He handed it back to me as I stared into the empty glass.

“They want us to leave for rehab already, starting tomorrow. I…I that’s too soon…i…can’t go.” He said, as he searched in a cookie jar and brought out a baggie of white powder. And I don’t think it was flour.

“Nik….just, you need to go to rehab.” I said, hopping off the counter, “I thought we got it all out…” I said quietly as I watched him dump some on the kitchen bar.

“You said heroin, not blow, it’s fine.” He smirked, as he cut a few lines, “If I have to go to rehab tomorrow, then I’m going out with a bang.” I scoffed at his words.

I grabbed a cup of water and dumped it across the counter, “Van! What the fuck!!” He yelled, trying to get the dry bits away from the water. While he was distracted, I snatched the rest of the baggie away from him.

“No! Give it back to me! Now!” He shouted, reaching out for it but I kept it behind my back, “No! You’re done! You get high on blow and then you’ll go looking for junk!! I know your routine, Nikki! And I’m not fucking doing it! You are going to rehab tomorrow!” I argued back.

“Oh fuck off! Give me my fucking drugs, now!!” I shook my head , “They can’t take me to rehab if I’m not here!” He yelled, grabbing the keys to his car.

“Baby, please don’t do this.” My voice was soft as he started walking to the front door, “You need to go to rehab and you need to get better.” I spoke as he threw the keys down on the couch.

“And what if I can’t!? What If I’m just gonna be a junkie for the rest of my life? I don’t know how to do this without heroin, it’s been with me for so long now….since fucking Razzle.” Nikki opened up as he sat down on the couch.

“You’ll get better, you’ll learn to live without it as much as you might hate it at first…” I explained to him, as I sat down on the couch with him.

“What if I can’t live without it, Van…I’ve only ever gone two weeks without it.” I sighed, running my fingers through his hair as he leaned back into the couch.

“I’m dying to see what a life with sober Nikki would be like.” I teased him as he tilted his head to look at me, “Are you now?” He asked, a loose smile appearing.

“You’ll stay by my side when I’m going through this?” He questioned, “Of course, babe. I’ll always have your back.” He nodded as he kissed the side of my cheek.

“I love you.” His eyes were big as he stared at me. His deep honey eyes were a lighter shade, usually they’re dark, cold and uninviting. They were warm; full of love and hope. I ran my hand across his jaw, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I love you too.”

[theyoutubedork]

I’m not a wizard: part 3

tag list: @strangemaximoff

You stand with Peter, casually chatting while the ship hurtles through space. He keeps asking you questions.

“So you live in New York?” He asks.

“In the New York Sanctum,”

“Where’s that?”

“Near the park we were fighting at,”

Peter asked you questions with an adorable curiosity. His eyes widened whenever you spoke, making your heart race from his attention towards you.

“So how do you do all that manic stuff?” He asks. You show him your sling ring.

“We channel it through what we call a sling ring. It lets me do stuff like this,” you explain, creating rings around your arms while you create a golden string of light. Golden sparks fall on the floor.

“So that’s what helps you use your legs?” He asks, pointing to the ring. You nod your head.

“Why do you have to do that? What happened?” He asks. You sigh.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he mumbles, retracting his question.

“No it’s fine, I’m just thinking. You see, I used to be a dancer, a ballerina specifically, I was late for a show one day when a car crashed into me when I was on my bike. I lost the ability to feel from the waist down since a fractured a ton of bones. For over a year I wasn’t able to recover fully, so I was able to find Dr. Strange since I’ve heard of paraplegics like me fully recovering. I learned to use inter dimensional energy to keep myself upright.” You say.

“So you’re constantly channeling that?” Peter says. You nod.

“Doesn’t that get tiring?”

“Not anymore, it’s just like a little hum in my bones. But I guess when I got super angry earlier I must’ve just stopped doing it. That’s why I fell.” You say.

“Oooh, that makes more sense I guess,” he realizes. You laugh at the large o he forms with his mouth, finding his face really pretty.

Suddenly the ship begins to close in on a planet.

“Hey what’s going on?” Peter asked.

“I think we’re here,” said Doc.

I don’t think this rig has a self park function. Get your hand inside the steering gimbal. Close those around it” Tony instructed Peter.

“This is meant for one big guy so we gotta move at the same time.”

The ship starts sailing towards some wreckage.

“Turn turn turn!” Peter yells. The ship crashes through it sideways, making the ship hurtle forward. You run forward to Dr. strange who conjures up a shield around you. You try to reinforce it, adding extra layers of strength around it. You crouch right next to Peter, ready to protect him if needed. The ship skids on the ground. You all stumble slightly and you latch your arms to Peter as you keep up your shield. You plant your feet to the ground, keeping you both steady. His suit releases the spider tendrils, latching to the floor of the ship. When the ship finally stops you let go of Peter taking a breath, Strange drops his shield, as do you.

“You all right?”

“Yeah. That was close. I owe you one.” Tony says. You look over to see Peter hanging upside down. “Let me just say if wind up implanting things in my chest or something and I eat one of you I’m sorry,” He says. You roll your eyes, smiling.

“I do not want another single pop culture reference out of you for the rest of the trip. You understand?”

“I’m trying to say that something is coming,”

Suddenly you feel an explosion throwing you backwards into the wreckage. A group of people march inside and a man throws something at Strange, who block it, sending the cloak to him. A figure shoots at iron man. You stumble up to see an alien walking towards Peter who starts frantically shooting webs. You run over to save him.

“Whoa whoa whoa! Please don’t put your eggs in me!” She gets tied in webs before the man kicks Peter in the face. Peter runs away and you go over to the alien woman wrapping her with a golden whip, restraining her against your chest. The group is at a standoff, and you fearfully look at Peter with worry, who was in the arms of a blonde man who unveils his mask.

“Everybody stay where you are Chill the eff out!” The man yells, “I’m going to ask you this one time, where is gamora?”

“Yeah I’ll do you one better, who is Gamora?” Tony says. The man under his boot challenges him,

“I’ll do you one better. WHY IS GAMORA?” He yells.

“Tell me where the girl is or I swear to you I’m gonna French fry this little freak.”

“Let’s do it. You shoot my guy and I’ll blast him let’s go!”

“Do it Quill! I can take it.”

The bug lady struggles against you,

“No he can’t take it!”

“She’s right you can’t.” Strange says.

“Oh yeah? You don’t wanna tell me where she is? That’s fine. I’ll kill all four of you and I’ll beat it out of Thanks myself. Starting with you!” He says, pointing the gun at Peter.

“Thanos?” You ask.

“Wait What Thanos? All right let me ask you this one time. What master do you serve?” Strange asks.

“What master do I serve? What am I supposed to say, Jesus?”

“You’re from Earth,”

“I’m not from earth I’m from Missouri.” Quill says. You scoff.

“That’s on earth dipshit,” both you and Tony say in unison.

“What are you hassling is for?” Tony asked.

“So you’re not with Thanos?” Says Peter.

“With Thanos? No, I’m her to kill Thanos. He took my girl. Wait, who are you?” Quill asks.

Peter reveals his face,

“We’re the avengers, man.”

“Oh,” Quill says, letting them go.

“You’re the ones Thor told us about!” Says the alien girl.

“You know Thor?”

“Yeah, tall guy, not that good looking,” both you and Peter furrow your eyebrows in confusion at this, “needed saving”

“Not that good looking?” You echo in protest, but Strange interrupts you.

“Where is he now?”

“We don’t really know,”

All of you were in position, waiting for Strange’s signal. You had time to kill before Thanos appeared.

You are sat right next to Peter, ready for him to swing you both into action.

“This is so crazy Peter,” you say under your breath. He unveils his mask, looking at you as his hair waved slightly.

“It’s gonna be ok Y/N. We got this. Besides, aren’t you and Dr. Strange masters of the mystic arts?” He says, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Well he certainly is, I dunno about me though,”

“Aww, don’t say that! You protected me when the ship was coming down! You also helped me with that big alien guy with your portal! You just have to do the same this so I can kick Thanks around. No biggie!” He says enthusiastically. You grin.

“At least I get to help beat Thanks with one of the coolest people in New York.” You gush. You see him blush.

“I could say the same thing about you. You’re pretty awesome too,” Peter mumbles. You give his a kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks Pete.” You say, turning back to the ground, seeing Thanos appear from a portal. He and Strange start talking. You and Peter creep closer. You fiddle with the sling ring on your fingers in anticipation.

“I think you’ll find our will equal to yours” says strange, summoning his rings. Tony slams the ship onto him, the rest of the crew jumping into action. You throw space shards at Thanos, helping Peter land blow after blow on him. Strange summons his sword as you summon your flail staff, whipping it at his face, making him yell out. You stand back, helping create shields for Quill to step upon, creating a portal for him to jump through when planting a bomb. You create sling rings for Peter, who yells phrases as he kick the purple freak.

“Magic! More magic! Magic with a kick! magic with a—“ Thanks grabs Peter and you yell and he’s slammed into the ground throwing him, you shove strange out of the way, letting Peter fall into you. Both of you hitting the ground hard. You all keep landing small hit on Thanos, being there to protect your friends as much as you can. Creating shields or catching them when their thrown to the side.

Another girl jumps in, arguing with him. Everyone begins to restrain Thanos, including you, using the same bright red vines as Strange to jerk his other arm to the side. Tony begins to help you with the gauntlet, as you pull the hot strings backwards with every bit of strength you have. Thanks screams as Mantis tries to get him to sleep.

“Parker get over here”

Peter comes to help.

Quill walks over beginning to faint Thanos. After Gamora is revealed to have been killed tony talks to Quill.

“Ok Quill, you gotta cool it right now. You understand? Don’t don’t don’t engage! We almost got this thing off!” Tony yells. Peter begins to hit Thanos, Mantis losing her grip. Tony reaches for Quill.

“Stop!” Thanos breaks from everyone’s grip, sending Mantis flying.

“Oh god,” says Peter, swinging to save her. You see Thanos take the moon and send it flying towards you all. . You scream as you run towards Peter.

“Peter grab everyone!” You yell as you try to flying over to Strange. Strange duplicates himself. You create shields to direct them directly towards Thanos. He takes one of the boulders and throws it, before Strange tangles him with whips. You quickly break the rock with your shield. Strange is grabbed by the titan, and before he reaches him he teleports the time stone to you. You grab it, quickly unleashing it. You plant your feet on the ground, conjuring a time spell. You begin to turn back the clock, the debris from the moon going back up, you scream as you try to go back to when you all had him in your hold. You see thanks physically struggling against your spell, and you quickly bring Strange into your spell. He looks at you,

“Get the gauntlet!” You yell. He looks at you, but is suddenly subdued by Thanos, who was able to break through your spell. You quickly drop the spell, focusing all your attention to Thanos. You try to duplicate yourself like strange, by Thanks is able to eliminate them just like with Strange. He bounds towards you punching you into the ground. You try to conjure shields but he just breaks them. He punches you with such force you feel your legs give out, making you slam onto the ground, unable to run away. You see a sling ring open, and strange grabs the time stone before Thanos could. Thanks cries out in frustration, punching you repeatedly into the ground. Blow after blow, you feel entire body crumple into itself. Thanks than runs, fighting with Tony. You hear someone call out your name as your feel blood drip and soak almost all of your clothes. You scream in pain. You feel all your senses numb as your world turns to black.

You wake up feeling ice cold liquid spray on your body. You open your eyes and see three faces.

“Hey guys! Did we win!” You cough. Peter, Tony, and Strange all give each other a look. Your face drops.

“I-I gave up the stone Y/N,” Strange admits. Blood boils throughout your system.

“You...what?” You growl.

“Y/N it’s ok, Mr. Strange said he did it for a reason.” Peter said, trying to calm you down. You try to stand, but your legs completely give out.

“WHY DID YOU GIVE UP THE STONE?!” You scream. Peter hold you back, holding you in his chest.

“It was the only way,” said Strange, giving you a knowing look. You sigh, in realization.

“Goddammit, we’re all gonna die aren’t we?” You sob, latching on to Peter. He hugs you back, placing his head in your neck.

“I don’t wanna die Peter,” you cry, feeling your composure slipping away.

“It’s going to be ok, it’s going to be ok, I promise.” He says, you both stand, you leaning on your quarterstaff. Everyone assembled together. You all take in your surroundings when you feel your stomach turn.

“Somethings happening,” Says Mantis. You see her disintegrate before your eyes. Dead disappears right after. Then Quill. You look at Strange. He looks at you and Tony. “Tony. This was no other way,” he says. Before your eyes he disappears before you. Tears stream down your face. This can’t be happening. This isn’t real.

“Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good,”

You turn and see Peter latching onto Tony,

“I don’t know what happening. I don’t know...I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go, sir please,” he pleads. You cry in anguish as you rush over.

“Please I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna go.” He sobs. You kneel right beside him, next to Tony. He lays there, you go down and kiss him on his cheek, which almost falls under your touch.

“No..Peter please don’t leave,” you cry. He looks at you, then Tony.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. He drifts away in the wind. Tony struggle to sit as he looks at you. The clutch in your stomach begins to increase. Not you too. You look at Tony.

“Tony, please, this can be undone, save us T-“ you explain before you feel your body release its self, and you no longer feel any physical pain.

[losertownnn]

can i get a headcanon where mc is a ballerina and the one time that she invites the RFA+V+Saeran to watch her show she gets injured and is really upset about it? i broke my leg at nutcracker rehearsal the other day and i really need some cheering up from my favorite boys

MC as a Ballerina (RFA boys+V+Saeran)

MC is a really good ballerina and has scored the main role in The Nutcracker (Clara!). It’s opening night and she’s asked her S/O to be there to watch and just so she can have emotional support. It’s their first time seeing her dance so they’re all really excited! But what happens when she gets injured/has a panic attack on stage…?

((A/N: I was in the Christmas spirit and one of my best friends is actually in the Nutcracker right now too so of course I’ll do it! Hope you feel better, anon

((A/N again: I also added panic attacks to this because I had those frequently when I myself was a dancer..hope you don’t mind, nonny!))

Word Count: 2668

Yoosung:

When you asked Yoosung to come to watch your show on opening night, he was really excited!

“AHHHHHH MC WANTS ME TO WATCH HER SHOW I FEEL SO HONORED”

“Um….you’re my boyfriend, Yoosung…of course I want you to.”

For the few weeks leading up to your performance he would remind you how excited he was to see your performance! He’d pepper your face in kisses while you were making dinner and tell you that Chef Yoosung had arrived to take over for you so that you wouldn’t overwork yourself before the big day.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Yoosung, I’ll be fine.”

When the day finally arrived, Yoosung visited your dressing room while you were getting ready to give you flowers and a kiss as good luck.

While he was waiting for the curtains to finally open and for you to come out on stage his legs started bouncing and your mom had to ask him if he was alright.

Outwardly, he just told her that his foot had fallen asleep and that he was trying to wake it up.

Inwardly, he was just not enjoying how long it was taking MC to come out on stage.

When you finally do come out on stage and begin to dance, Yoosung is absolutely entranced by your intricate and graceful movements as you moved across the stage. You looked like an angel to him.

Throughout the entire thing, Yoosung was amazed at how easily this came to MC and he commented about this to her parents more than once. They responded rather casually, as if this wasn’t their first time seeing their daughter dance as Clara (it was the fifth time).

They were halfway through the Waltz of the Snowflakes when MC went to do an arabesque and did something horribly wrong, instantaneously collapsing to the ground and letting out a yelp.  

Yoosung sprang up from his chair and darted onto the stage before the curtains could close on him.

You were sprawled on the ground and crying and your ankle was bent at an awfully unnatural angle.

Yoosung started crying himself and held and rocked you while you waited for the medics to show up and help you into the ambulance that was waiting outside.

You didn’t even care that your ankle was probably broken, you sat there apologizing to the boy for messing up your performance. He was sobbing because he was so worried for you and just kissed you while telling you over and over that he didn’t mind a bit as long as you could heal up nicely.

“And think about this, MC, you won’t have to go to practice that much anymore so you can play LOLOL with meeee!” (MC laughed at this)

Stayed with you for the entire time that you were in the ambulance and at the hospital. (SUCH A CINNAMON ROLL)

Endless cuddles and games of LOLOL while you’re on the road to recovery.

Zen:

You didn’t even get to finish inviting Zen to the performance before he says yes.

He’s so happy you share the same love for the stage as he has. (He tells you this like every time you bring it up)

For the weeks before the performance he playfully dances with you around his apartment and calls you his darling princess Clara. (to which you either swoon or roll your eyes, depending on whether MC is a happy MC or a grumbly MC LOL)

Flowers. And. Chocolates. And. Cuddles. Every. Day.

He does this to get your confidence up because attention from you always helps him before a show of his

He makes you salads for dinner every night saying that you have to be in good shape healthwise before your big day so that you’ll perform to your best ability! (Though he’s sure that you’ll be amazing no matter what you do)

On the day of he doesn’t come into your dressing room beforehand because even though he likes it when you do it for him, he figures that you might be just a tad bit different and wants you to be able to calm your pesky nerves on your own without the possibility of him making them worse.

When he’s sitting with your parents waiting for you to come out and open the show he can’t stop talking about how amazing you are at dancing.

Your parents are like “but you haven’t even seen her dance yet so how do you even know ???”

Zen tries to hide inside of his suit because he meant to keep that inside of his head.

He’s on the edge of his seat for the entirety of the show. Up until the finale that is….

You totally freeze on stage and stare into the crowd. He can see that you’re starting to shake so he runs backstage to comfort you.

After prodding you with questions for what seems like years (it was only two minutes…) Zen figures out that you had skipped your meals that day because usually that brings you good luck.

WAIT.

HOLD UP.

MC

SKIPPED

HER

MeAlS?!?!??!?!!

Zen goes red and starts lecturing you about how you should always properly take care of yourself before big performances like this and how disappointed he is that you would ever do that to yourself and how he is going to force you to eat a salad when you get home and WATCH you eat it.

You think it’s kind of cute though that he cares so much.

Zen watches all of your meals for a few months after the incident and every time you have a big performance he personally feeds you. (Not that you’re complaining)

Jumin:

When Jumin found out that MC had gotten the part as Clara he bought out the entire balcony section so that your parents, Chairman Han, the RFA and himself could all see you perfectly and watch while sitting in the most comfortable chairs that the theater has to offer.

You only rolled your eyes at this and told him that you had reserved the very front row for them before he went off and bought out the balcony.

Jumin scoffs and says the balcony will be better anyway.

This leads to a stupid argument over which has the better view.

Jumin buys you a lot of presents leading up to the performance and even goes so far as hiring you daily spa specialists to both mentally and physically prepare you for the upcoming performance.

He also has set aside a specific 45 minutes for you to lounge around and spend quality time with you and Jumin’s precious child Elizabeth the 3rd.

Jumin tells the RFA to basically dress to the nines for the performance.

They listened, too…Jaehee wore a sparkly ball gown. They all glared at Jumin when they found out that it was a casual event and during the wait he would sometimes feel all of their eyes on him…not in a good way, either.

While you’re dancing, Jumin has to scold Seven and Yoosung for making fun of the Nutcracker’s outfit.

They were laughing particularly obnoxiously loudly and saying that he looked like he belonged in a Christmas Shoppe window.

It was during this time that the Nutcracker had attempted to pick you up and spin you around.

To keep things short and simple, he dropped you.

And something in you snapped.

Jumin was out of his chair so fast that he looked like a blur of black as he darted down the stairs and towards the stage.

Unfortunately for him, the curtains had already closed by the time he got there, and got a face full of red, velvety, DIRTY curtains.

He was going to have to wash his mouth 20 times after this

Once Jumin actually made it backstage, he shoves his finger in your dance partner’s face aggressively and threatens to sue him

“No, Jumin, it’s fine, things happen…”

“How dare he hurt my love? He will be paying a lot for this.”

The medics examine you and figure out that you broke your wrist.

Jumin is freaked out at first because he knows how much you like to write in your free time, but relaxes when he finds out that you broke your non-dominant wrist.

The fact that he wasn’t very worried sort of pissed you off, though.

It was only an act; he was freaking out internally

He babies you for the entire healing process and every time you have even the smallest of pains he hires a doctor.

He makes sure that you know that he loves you every day in different ways to make you feel better.

707/Luciel/Saeyoung Choi:

This boy is jumping around the living room of his bunker when you originally tell him, saying that you guys will have to eat extra Honey Buddha Chips and drink more Dr Pepper than usual as a celebratory gesture while you’re having your Fast and Furious movie marathon that night.

“Saeyoung, this isn’t the first time I’ve gotten this role, it’s really not a big–”

“Shhh! My goddess 606 will be treated extra sweetly for her achievements. Your protests will not sway God 707.”

When you’re shopping for Christmas decorations for the bunker (he never really celebrated Christmas until you moved in with him) he would always point at the ballerina ornaments and say that it was you.

“Saeyoung, that ballerina is a man….that’s not me.”

“She could be cross dressing, MC, stop raining on my parade!”

Good lord this boy acts like he’s not really that excited, but he hacks every member of the RFA’s computer and makes their background the flyer with the location info and date/time of the performance with a little note edited onto the bottom of it.

‘You will show up unless you want a shipment of 450,000 bars of soap to be delivered to your doorstep.’

On the day of the performance, he notices that you’re acting a little antsier than you usually do and that you had crescent shaped cuts on the palms of your hands.

He calmly™ asks if you’re okay and if you need some anti-anxiety drugs to help you focus.

You tell him that it’s only the pre-show jitters, and that they’ll go away once you actually start dancing.

That isn’t the case.

You dance the entire overture shakily, and once you go off the stage for the set change, your dance teacher has to ask if you’re okay.

You’re NOT.

You tell them like you told Saeyoung that you’re totally fine and that you were only a little cold.

You go back onto the stage and dance the part where the Nutcracker comes to life and fights off the rat king’s evil soldiers until one part that seems to have completely deleted itself from your brain.

You freeze and fall to your knees, shaking so hard that people in the crowd can hear your knees hitting the stage as you shook.

Protective Saeyoung™ has emerged from the depths of his soul and he rushes backstage to help calm you down and holds you as you cry.

He talks to your dance teacher and convinces her to let you try again now that you’ve calmed down.

The dance teacher hesitantly agrees.

When you try again, you dance it perfectly and Saeyoung finds himself falling in love with you all over again.

He treats you to bowl after bowl of ice cream with a side of cuddles for the weeks following that first performance.

He’s always in the audience for your future performances as well. (cutie ;-;)

V/Jihyun Kim: 

He’s really excited to see you dance since he hasn’t been to a ballet since before the surgery.

He takes you to practice everyday and if he can convince you to let him, he stays and watches you practice.

He’s astounded at how good you are at dancing, every move as graceful and delicate as the last.

He gushes about this to all of his friends and everyone who attends his photography events.

He takes a million pictures of you practicing and frames them, hanging them in various rooms of your house.

Loves to massage your feet after a particularly difficult practice and make you some soup to make you feel better.

He cuddles with you every night following up to the actual performance.

While waiting in the audience for you to come out, he gushes to your parents about how much he loves you and how proud he is of you for coming this far.

Your parents absolutely adore him for this and tell him how you’ve worked all your life to get to this point.

This makes him love it even more. 

When you come out on stage holding the nutcracker he almost falls out of his seat when he sees how stunning you look in Clara’s nightdress.

He almost cries at how amazing you’re doing on the stage.

Lowkey gets jealous of the Nutcracker’s dancer because he’s touching his MC.

When you fall while doing a turn he stays in his seat for a moment, not knowing what just happened.

He bolts backstage when your parents poke him in the ribs and tell him that you’ve been injured and will probably be removed from the role of Clara.

When he makes it backstage he’s greeted with your loud sobs and the image of a badly broken ankle. 

He’s instantly on the floor next to you, rocking you back and forth and smoothing your hair back while whispering encouraging words.

He takes you everywhere afterwards and makes sure that you get everything you need while on your way to recovery.

Saeran Choi/Unkown/Ray:

He doesn’t really react in a positive (or negative for that matter) way and just nods before returning to the subject you had been on before you brought your performance up.

Inwardly he’s actually pretty excited because he had never seen a ballet before.

He doesn’t bring it up in the two weeks leading up to the performance, just kind of gives you some extra loving for no reason.

On the day of he starts to get nervous.

He’s read on multiple websites that ballet can be a pretty dangerous form of dance and that you could break many bones if you made just one wrong move.

He’s bouncing his legs while waiting for the curtains to open and Saeyoung teases him about possibly being afraid that MC is just a bad dancer.

Saeran full on slaps his brother in the face.

Saeran feels strangely emotional while watching you glide across the stage. He doesn’t know how such an angel could love someone like him.

He was just about to brag to Saeyoung that he has a scarily talented girlfriend when the Nutcracker tripped on a prop and dropped MC, sending her flying off the end of the stage.

Saeran runs to her so quickly that he’s gasping for breath when he reaches her and cradles her unconscious body in his arms.

Tears are silently rolling down the smol bean’s cheeks. 

He yells at everyone who tries to take MC away from him, saying that he won’t let them take her from him, that he loves her too much to lose her.

By this time MC had just regained consciousness and told Saeran to take her to the hospital. She was pretty certain that she had broken her right femur and left calf.

When they got home from the hospital Saeran would grumble remarks like “You should have been more careful” and “Why did you scare me like that” but he was really just trying not to cry over how scared he had been.

MC loves him so much for that.

There it is! Hope it’s to your liking! If you have any requests please send me an ask and I’ll do it within 3 or 4 days but I’ll most certainly try for the day I receive it!