#anyway; I feel like it's difficult for me to argue with people over this because they'd need a lot of fandom drama context and receipts...
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Talking shit with nuance in the DMs with someone who's also seen the horrors of Loki TWT is nice ^_^
For context, I really HATE Loki TWT (I find Lokiblr more tolerable, maybe because it's easier to avoid shit as I have the algorithm recommendations turned off. Y'all should try that.). Everyone's awful over there, be it anti series, Sylki, or Lokius.
Like do they all know they can express grievances without getting ableist and nasty?
But some people from Loki TWT unfortunately are also on Tumblr...
#it'll get ableist or biphobic REAL FAST. Stop throwing around âdeluluâ and âjoblessâ like it's candy. Stop assuming demographics of groups.#and I don't like that each of these turn it into a moral crusade in different ways#Lokiuses try to paint themselves as pro-LGBTQ+#Sylkis try to paint themselves as âGlobal Southâ anti-fascist fandom#series antis try to paint themselves as a mixture of anti-fascist and pro-LGBTQ+#and the thing is I don't think it's honest in most of these cases#ITalkShit#IStartShit#hot take#fandom wank#they might have *some* good points/grievances but they also have a lot of insincere and bad faith takes/reasonings#let people like or not like shit and stop calling people stupid over whether or not they like TVA!Loki or something..#mcu!loki#tva!loki#anyway; I feel like it's difficult for me to argue with people over this because they'd need a lot of fandom drama context and receipts...#I DO HAVE SOME RECEIPTS THOUGH..#for better or worse I do like my mutuals
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Beasties of Greenhollow soundtrack! Some tracks on this are from older projects like elphame but all of them have been reworked in some way. Most of them are entirely new. Enjoy!
#soundtrack#music#indiegamedev#Youtube#beasties of greenhollow#indiegame#chiptune#elphame#hey again gang. Another scream into the void#Things have been getting more interesting tbh#I'm starting therapy again. I have learned from this that my anxiety is in the very very high end.#And I guess the only thing that surprises me about that is that it's an abnormally high amount vs the average.#I've had more intrusive thoughts this week than in a long time. (I almost said ever but that was 2021 where they woke me up...)#It's mostly about my mistakes and ppl I've scared out of being in my life because of the actions based on my anxieties.#Like âif i could go back in time I could fix itâ... girl you'd be going back in time like 100 times. At that point it's not fair lmao#I think I shouldn't talk about who I'm dating here anymore. Friends told me to stop seeing so many new people and I took that advice.#I'm exercising incredibly frequently; obsessively so. It really doesn't change much in my anxiety. I walk for like 3 hours a day.#My friend group is... difficult. One of us had a falling out with another and the dynamic is just so awkward for me now.#it just seems like everyone else has moved past it though but I still miss him. I don't think this can be reversed#we used to talk on my stream and play digimon cards n jackbox and d&d... But now they're only interested in d&d which I don't love#For god's sake I've published a game and moved to a nice new place. why aren't I happy hahahaha#work is no longer enjoyable since BoG was publised. our new project is in an iffy category but it's not my place to argue#I want to write music and animate but I have to do my hours for this new project before I can do anything like that...#I ended up siding with my current boss in that ethical dilemma I posted about and rn idk if that was the right decision.#Okay what can i talk about that's good? We moved to a nice place. I'm celebrating BoG's release with family tomorrow.#Graeme's playing Iconoclasts- one of my favourite games! He's also returning to work soon so it'll be less awkward to have a lady over#Thinking about good stuff going on just draws the mind to holidays I've had before. I treasure my memories!#Okay so I've complained for a long long time bc life doesn't feel great rn. But rest assured I already know this is 90% my fault hahaha#Oh another good thing that happened!!! My elestrals card was printed and ppl are really happy with it. I have a card in a real card game!!!#don't tell anyone but there's another one on the way. Anyway that will do for now. I'm sorry about my... self.
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Everyone Loves a 2-for-1 Sale Part 3
Part 1 & 2 (And original Prompt)
The dining room was suspiciously quiet for a Wayne breakfast when Danny walked in.
He glanced up from his phone, pulling one earbud out, âOh feel free to continue arguing my morality like Iâm an object, my musicâs on full volume.â
Dick looked uncomfortable, âWe werenât-Look, Ti- Danny, we are just a bit curious as to why youâreâŚ. here,â Dick finished, glancing at the others like asking if theyâd share the plate of batguilt-fries with him.
âSurely the world could have done without a second Drake,â Damian cut in before Danny could even start.
âAnd we could have done without even one of you, yet here you are,â Danny glared, âFactory defects and all.â
Damian jerked upwards with a raised knife, narrowly pushed back down by Dick.
Danny rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his phone-Timâs phone-their phone. He held a folded paper out to Bruce with two fingers, still typing, âI have a list, if you want it.â
He continued typing as they opening the note and read it, he knew what it said.
To Do in Gotham:
1. Get to Gotham
2. Find original - donât freak family out
3. -Find- Talk to Bruce
4. Convince Vicki Vale that Tim is/ actually engaged to Tam Fox
5. Get safe house
6. New identity? (what do clones do? - ask Connor)
7.
8.
9. Leave?
âWhatâs number seven and eight?â Dick asked, and Danny actively made sure his typing pattern didnât change.
âDonât know yet,â He answered with a shrug, the picture of nonchalance. Bruce probably didnât believe him.
Didnât matter. Dick did. Because Dick felt guilty.
Bat guilty.
About time he believed him about something.
And Danny didnât care about Damianâs opinions one way or another.
He stepped away from the table, plopping another grape in his mouth as he walked past, âWelp thatâs it for me, busy day, fake engagement, gotta find some crutches because I donât think Vicki will accept my âyou got new legs Lieutenant Dan-nyâ joke, all that,â
Danny slipped out the door past a sleep-deprived Tim with a jaunty salute, âAllâs well in Clone Town!â
Danny kept walking, his brain running miles ahead of him, Ted Tobin steering the wheel with his fingers on the keypad of his phone as he moved forward and mentally filled in the list.
Number 7: Find Raâs Al Ghul and the Lazarus pits.
Number 8: Stabilize yourself.
Danny continued up the stairs. He had people to see and rings to buy. Busy is the life of a saboteur.
â
Red Robin watched his clone linger in the jewelerâs store, trying to keep the frown from taking over his whole face.
He was making Timâs life difficult. Tim suspected it was on purpose.
Largely because people would ask way too many questions if two Tim Drakes showed up in Gotham at the same time.
Hence, Red Robin being relegated to rooftop surveillance.
He turned his attention back to the clone, watching as he left the shop and turned down the street. Red Robin swept after him, following from above.
The clone remained focused on his phone- which was also Timâs by the way, and stolen- as he walked down the street, turning into an alley without even looking up.
Tim tilted his head and swung to the rooftop, peering into the darkness.
âYou could always just come down and actually talk to me, you know?â
Tim dropped into the alley, unsurprised to come face to face with the clone. It was weird to see his own face look so annoyed by him.
âThought it was best to stay out of sight. Weâre not exactly a daylight hero.â
Danny rolled his eyes, âAlready annoyed with Vicki Vale?â
Tim nearly growled, âThat is your fault,â
âOh come on, you canât tell me itâs not hilarious.â
âYouâve spent all morning in ring shops! I have meetings!â
âLucius can handle them. Itâs not like we actually did anything this last year anyways.â
Tim stared at him for a second, confusion in the squint of his eyes and laced with suspicion.
Danny groaned with a roll of his eyes, âFine, you want me to stay put somewhere so you can do your civilian thing?â
âYes.â
âI am not staying in the manor. You canât make me.â
Dread filled him as Tim smiled, âNot a problem.â
Danny glared at Tim standing arms wide in the center of the room of his emptiest safe house, âThis is so not what I meant and you know it.â
Timâs face betrayed nothing, âLook, none of us are happy with this situation-â
Danny scoffed. Understatement of the century.
âBut..â Tim continued with a pointed look, âItâs my fault, and I get that. SoâŚcompromise? You stay here, work on cold cases while I sort out my current job, and when Iâm done, weâll figure out what to do, okay?â
Danny sighed, feeling Ted Tobin stir to life with plans already forming.
âFine.â
Tim nodded succinctly, reaching for a laptop and multiple cords, âOk, hereâs my old computer, -huh, I could have sworn that had a different charger- anyways- Iâll take this,â he plucks the phone from Dannyâs hands in one smooth motion, giving a mocking smile in return to Dannyâs glare, âThank you very much, now I just have to-and find the guy whoâŚâ
Timâs voice tapers off into mumbles as he heads into the bedroom to peel off his suit, fingers focused on the keypad of his newly reacquired phone.
Danny slumps himself down on the secondhand couch, dust echoing around him. This was fine, he could do stuff in the meanwhile, maybe help Tim with his case -or solve it himself, he bets he could- and then finish the new specs for the suit wings that Dannyâs suit still didnât have.
Tim fumbled through the doorway, now in civilian clothes, already on a call with Lucius probably, or Tam. Tam helped him a lot.
Danny slouched further into the silence.
It felt like being left behind by his parents.
They had bigger priorities.
Archaeology.
Ghosts.
Danny shook his head, opening the computer and letting Ted Tobin fish through the passwords for case files.
Heâs nearly 3 hours deep when he really pauses for the first time, finally stopping the continuous notes sitting next him, each a different clue. Most for different cases.
The current case pulled up on his screen scratches at him, facts slotting into place with rapid fire precision.
The officer assigned to the case is a vet.
The case is perpetrated by a senatorial candidate.
The officer assigned served on three active fronts and 2 undisclosed.
The guilty candidate is running support for a bill cutting veteran supports.
Best of all?
Itâs not in Gotham.
Danny smiles as Ted Tobinâs plan fills in, piece by piece.
â
Raâs Al Ghul should really make it harder to hack into his confidential back market mercenary dealings.
Then again, maybe it was for the better. How else would he make sure Red Robin was able to intercept the assassin in time to save that poor officerâs life the night before his case-closing arrest?
â
âDetective, I assumed holding my business outside of Gotham would keep it from being the concern of you and yours,â Raâsâ voice is muffled through the bag over his head, âIt seems I was wrong.â
âOh well, you know meâŚ,â The bag is ripped roughly off his head, leaving him blinking rapidly against the light even as he smirks, âAlways butting into things when I shouldnât. Itâs kind of what we do.â
âTell me, Timothy,â Raâs says, turning his back to him once more, as he waves his ninjas away, âWhat does this officer matter to you, more than a state away from your usual stomping grounds? What-â Raâs pauses as a different ninja approaches him to whisper in his ear. His body stills.
âWell, weâll start there. First of all, as Iâm sure you just found out, Iâm not Timothy,â Danny says, standing up smoothly. He relishes the look Raâs gives him as he turns around. âAnd secondly, the officer wasnât what mattered. Getting you here on the other hand. Now that.. that takes a little more planning.â Danny brushes himself off, removing the cowl to leave just his own domino behind.
Raâs al Ghul hums, his eyebrow twitching up even as his eyes narrow in suspicion.
âWhat? No sudden desire to stab? No impromptu attempt to put a sword through my chest?â
âYou are curious. So much like the detective, and yet⌠my people tell me he is currently patrolling in Gotham with the Grayson boy.â
Danny scoffs, âOh great, another fruit loop interested in me, like I need a new one of those.â
Raâsâ stare doesnât change. Albeit a bit more annoyed, but still flat and calm.
âYou wanna know what makes me different from Timothy, Raâs?â Danny pauses, taking a deep breath and letting the ectoplasm ripple inside him for the first time in months. âThe difference between me and him,â When he looks up he knows his eyes glow fluorescent green, âIs that Iâm stronger.â
â
Bonus Scene:
Dick stared at Timâs clone as he left, sweeping past the originalâs bleary form stumbling to the coffee machine.
âAre we sure heâs Drakeâs clone? He seems⌠less of a fool,â Damian sneered, watching Tim stand listlessly in front of the cabinet, coffeemaker off, and tablet in hand.
He looked out of the Dining room doors, spotting Danny standing not far away in front of one of the closets by the stairs rather than the actual steps, fingers tapping away.
Damian turned back to his breakfast, âI retract my statement. Clearly his stupidity was simply blinding.â
#batman#danny phantom#batfam#dc#danny fenton#batman and robin#danny phantom crossover#young justice#bruce wayne#tim drake#raâs al ghul#Gotham#dick grayson#Jason Todd#red robin#robin damian#Damian wayne#Damian al ghul#dp x dc#dpxdc#this is part 3#thereâs also more reblogs and story offshoots in the original post#go read em!
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Hello, how are you? Could i request an angsty but smutty and fluff fic of Elijah and reader where they get into a fight but makeup in the end?
Stubborn
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
You and Elijah get into a fight about his protective nature. He thinks you are too stubborn, and you think he's too controlling. How will you resolve your issues?
âĄâĄ Thanks for the request anon! I don't know if this is very angsty, but it certainly is very smutty âĄâĄ
4.1k words - Warnings: smuttttt, very little plot, Cami being the best, dom!elijah (you like him in control? well... here you go...), fingering, squirting, angry sex...
"I'm not some damsel in distress, I don't need your protection!" You yelled, louder than you meant to. Arguing with Elijah was always a test of your restraint. He made it so damn difficult, he was always calm and composed. Sometimes you just wanted to push his buttons.
"Darling, I have so many enemies, and you're not invincible." He tried to reason.
"Don't patronize me, I know that, but you treat me like I can't take care of myself!" You snapped, pacing around the living room. You tried to calm yourself down, you didn't want to say something you'd regret, but the anger bubbling inside you wouldn't go away.
"I'm not trying to patronize you, I just think you could make better decisions." He said softly, his eyes following you as you paced.
"It's like you're treating me like a child! We're supposed to be equals, and you always talk to me like you're the parent and I'm the kid!" Your voice cracked a little, when you got angry you also would cry. You hated that about yourself.
Elijah could see the pain in your eyes, you were his soft and sweet y/n. He just wanted to protect you. He tried to approach you, to hold you and comfort you, but you pushed him away.
His actions made you feel weak, and foolish, here was a man that faced countless dangers, he was centuries old, he fought vampires and werewolves, witches and even his own siblings. And you were just this fragile thing, this tiny human he had to watch out for. It made you feel so weak and pathetic, all your insecurities bubbling up inside you, the tears falling down your cheeks.
You stormed away from him, and he let you, because he knew if he pushed you, it would just make things worse.
You had been dating Elijah for two months now, and in that time, he had taken on the role of a protective boyfriend. You liked being taken care of, but sometimes it felt like he didn't see you as an equal.
You had been arguing about this a lot lately. You didn't like being treated like you were breakable. You weren't. You had dealt with plenty of dangers in your life, and he didn't give you enough credit.
He was a stubborn man, and you were a stubborn woman, so the tension kept rising, until you finally had to get away from him. So you decided to stay at Cami's for a few days, she was a good friend, and she didn't judge you. She could always use some company anyways.
"So, he's a bit over protective, huh?" Cami asked. You were curled up on her couch, drinking a glass of wine. You were both having a night in, wearing pajamas and doing self-care.
"Yeah, and I know he means well, but I really value my independence, it's not something I'm willing to give up," You admitted.
"Do you feel like he doesn't respect you?" She asked, taking a sip of her own wine.
"No, he does, I know that, but it feels like he doesn't trust me." You said, looking down into your glass.
Cami stood and grabbed some snacks, tossing you a bag of your favorite chips. "I don't think that's it, I think he's scared. Scared to lose you. He's been through so much, and he's lost a lot of people he's loved." She said, plopping back down on the couch.
You let out a long sigh, you knew of his pain, but it was still hard to hear out loud. He held all of his trauma inside him, and sometimes it was difficult for him to share, even with you.
"I love him Cami, it's just hard. I've always had to take care of myself, I guess I just have a hard time accepting someone wanting to do that for me." You said softly, feeling the tears brimming your eyes.
"Have you told him that? That you love him?" She asked.
"No, I... I want him to say it first." You admitted.
Cami chuckled and took a long sip of her wine, then grabbed the remote and turned on a movie. It was one of those sappy romances that were so over the top and cheesy. But that's why they were so fun to watch.
"Just tell him. I'm sure he loves you too." Cami said, her gaze fixed on the tv.
"I know," you sighed, "I just want him to initiate, his so reserved, and I'm tired of always being the one who has to take the first step." You grumbled.
"He's probably worried about scaring you away, or making things awkward, you know how he can be." She said, turning to look at you, giving you a comforting smile.
"Yeah, I guess." You mumbled, curling up further on the couch.
Cami gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and the two of you continued to watch your movie, the sappy love story playing out in front of you.
"So," she said, breaking the silence, "how's the sex?"
You choked on your wine, sputtering a bit before regaining your composure. Cami was a little shit sometimes.
"The sex is amazing," You said, smirking at her. "But... I'm always the one initiating it. Sometimes I think his biggest problem is that he's too gentlemanly."
"Well, what have you done to make him be more spontaneous?" Cami asked, grabbing the bottle of wine and pouring more in her glass.
"Me?" You squeaked. "What did I do?"
"Maybe he doesn't want to take control because you never gave him permission." She asked.
You sat and thought about that. You were usually the one who would start things. You initiated kisses, hugs, hand holding, even the sex. Elijah was so reserved, so proper, he didn't want to overstep. It made you feel like he didn't desire you, which was ridiculous, you had seen him undressing you with his eyes.
"That's fair." You said. "I didn't realize he was waiting for permission."
"Men are idiots." Cami stated, making you laugh.
"Sometimes," you said, chuckling. "I just want to see him be the one to initiate, you know?"
"I know." She said, leaning back on the couch.
You finished the bottle of wine and watched the rest of the movie. It was so sweet, the ending was a happy one, the couple was together and they were in love. You wished life was that simple.
The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a dry mouth. Cami was already awake, making coffee.
"Ugh," you groaned, rubbing your temples. "I should have drank more water,"
"I tried to remind you." Cami said, smirking at you.
"Well, excuse me for being drunk," You replied.
She handed you a mug of coffee, and you sipped it slowly, letting the warmth of the drink soothe your throat.
"Thanks for letting me stay here," you said.
"You know I don't mind." She replied, sitting on the couch next to you.
You leaned your head on her shoulder, sighing.
"I love him, but I think I need some space. Some time to myself." You said softly.
"I think that's a good idea." She replied.
"Are we doing the right thing? Am I being selfish?" You asked, chewing your bottom lip.
"No, you're not. You're being realistic. You need some space and some time to yourself." She replied.
"I'm going to go to the compound and pick up some clothes and stuff." You said.
"Want me to come with you?" She asked.
"No, that's ok, I think I can handle myself." You replied, smiling at her.
She gave you a reassuring squeeze and you got up, feeling a bit better after your talk.
"Thanks Cami, I'll call you later," You said, grabbing your keys and heading out.
Elijah was sitting at the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of whiskey, and he had a book open in front of him, though he wasn't reading it. His mind was too preoccupied. He missed you terribly, it had only been a couple days, but it felt like an eternity.
He thought back to the last conversation you had had. You had stormed off, and he hadn't chased after you, because he knew you needed time to cool down. He wanted to tell you he was sorry, but he knew you didn't want to hear it right now.
You were the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he didn't want to lose you. He was used to losing people, he had spent centuries running, he had been betrayed, lied to, hurt. But he had never met anyone quite like you.
You were sweet, funny, smart, and caring. He had fallen for you quickly, but he had been too afraid to admit it. Like if he said it out loud, everything would fall apart.
But in your absence he realized his mistake, and how foolish he had been. No more wasting time, he needs to tell you that he loves you, despite how stubborn you are.
You walked into the compound, it was eerily quiet, you hoped Elijah was out. So you could just quickly grab your things and leave.
You didn't expect him to be waiting for you in the kitchen, his face was serious, but his eyes were full of emotion.
"Elijah, I'm just here to pick up some clothes," You said, trying to walk past him. He stepped in front of you, blocking your way.
"We need to talk." He said, his tone firm.
"No, we really don't, I just want my things," You said, trying to move around him. He moved again, his arms crossed, and his face was stern.
"Stop treating me like a child! Let me by!" You yelled. He let you pass him and you ran up to your bedroom, grabbing some clothes.
He followed you and stood in the doorway, watching you, his eyes boring into your skin.
"Stop looking at me like that," You said, throwing some clothes into a bag.
"I hate seeing you upset," He replied, his voice soft.
"I'm not upset, I'm just angry." You said, moving past him to go into the bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush.
He followed you and leaned against the doorframe, watching you gather your toiletries.
"Please, let's just talk." He pleaded.
You sighed, looking up at him, his expression was pained, his jaw was clenched. You could see the desperation in his eyes. Your anger was still in charge though and you pushed past him again and started packing your things on the bed.
"So talk, I'm listening," You said harshly, still not looking at him.
He took a deep breath, his fists clenched, and he closed his eyes for a moment, composing himself. He knew he couldn't get through to you when you were angry like this.
"You're right," He said, opening his eyes and looking at you. "I'm sorry. I haven't been treating you fairly. I've been trying to protect you. But you are being stubborn and you're not letting me explain,"
You turned to look at him, trying to ignore how good he looked. His hair was messy, like he had been running his hands through it, and he was wearing a black shirt, his sleeves rolled up, and his tie was hanging loose around his neck. A part of you wanted to just give in and kiss him, but the other part of you was still pissed off.
He could hear your heart beating faster, your body temperature rising. He knew that he had an effect on you, and he was enjoying seeing you get flustered. He gave you a crooked smirk, and took a step closer to you, and you backed up, hitting the bed.
You took a shaky breath, trying to steady your breathing. You were angry, but his presence always made your body react, and your head spin.
"So stubborn," he growled, pushing you onto the bed.
"Fuck you, Elijah," you hissed, trying to sit up.
"Not today," he smirked, pinning you down with his weight.
"I said, fuck you," You growled, pushing on his chest.
He chuckled and leaned down, his face inches from yours. His eyes were dark, his lips curled up in a devilish smile.
"Say please," He purred, his breath ghosting over your lips.
You let out a frustrated groan, and he kissed you, hard. You whimpered, and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring it, tasting you.
"Is this what you want? To be fucked?" He whispered, his lips grazing your ear.
"No," you lied, trying to squirm away from him, but his grip was too tight.
"Don't lie, darling, your body betrays you," He growled, nibbling your earlobe before leaving a trail of hickeys down your neck.
He suddenly tore the shirt off of you, making you gasp. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, his other hand moving to your waist, pulling your skirt off.
"Eli- my clothes!" You whined, but he just chuckled, his eyes roaming your body.
"I'll buy you new ones," He smirked, nipping at your jaw, then capturing your lips with his.
"You can't just-" you were cut off by him biting your lip. You groaned and he released you, his hands roaming your body.
"Stop being so stubborn," He whispered, his fingers brushing over your lace panties, making you shiver.
"I'm not," you argued, biting back a moan as his fingers teased your clit.
He laid on his side next to you, opening your legs and pushing your panties out of the way. He grazed over your clit with the pad of his index finger, teasing you slowly. He loved this, teasing you, torturing you. You were so beautiful when you were desperate for him.
You whined and pushed your hips against his hand, and he pulled his hand away, smirking.
"You're such a tease," You growled, glaring at him.
"You're cute when you're angry," He smiled, his fingers returning to your pussy. He tapped your clit lightly, his lips ghosting over yours. You tried not to react, but it felt so good, this dominant side of him was driving you crazy.
He slid two fingers into you, and began thrusting them slowly. You gasped and arched your back, moaning loudly. Watching your reaction was thrilling, his cock was painfully hard, but he wanted to make you cum first.
"Listen to those sweet sounds," he purred, pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right. âSo filthy and wet, the way your body responds, it's like you were made for me."
"You're a fucking asshole," you moaned, trying to buck your hips against his fingers.
"I can stop, if you want," He whispered, his voice dark.Â
"No," You whimpered, "I-I'm close."
"Oh, I know, darling." He smiled, "You're going to cum, and I'm going to make you cum again, and again, until all the stubborn thoughts in your head disappear."
His fingers were pumping fast now, and you couldn't help the noises you were making. Your orgasm was building in such a way that you knew it would be intense. He was right, you were stubborn, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan, but it was becoming more and more difficult to hold back.
"Eli- wait, your gonna make me-" You stuttered, gasping as he added a third finger, stretching you even more.
"Make a mess?" He purred, curling his fingers just right, hitting your g-spot.
The lewd, wet, squelching noises coming from your pussy were embarrassing, and the fact that he was enjoying them made it worse. He could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, your whole body trembling, you were so close.
He sped up his pace, and he could see the moment when you reached your peak. Your body tensed up, your back arching, and then a loud cry escaped your lips.
Your juices spilled out onto his fingers, covering his hand. It was so much, you had never squirted before, and the look on Elijah's face was pure lust and amusement.
It made you embarrassed and a bit angry and you tried to move away, but he kept his fingers buried deep inside you, not letting you escape.
"Don't be ashamed," He said, kissing your forehead, his fingers moving slowly, causing your legs to tremble.
"I'm not," You panted, glaring at him, trying to suppress a moan.
"Really?" He purred, his eyes locking with yours, "Then why are you blushing?"
He smirked, and you tried to hide your face in the sheets, but he wouldn't let you. He was still smirking, and you were getting angrier.
"I'm not-"
"Shh, love, you can't hide from me," he cooed, his fingers still pumping into you, stretching you out. Building up another climax.
"Eli-fuck," You gasped, the pleasure building.
"That's it, let me hear those pretty sounds," He whispered, his voice husky.
He was still fully clothed, and he hadn't even touched himself, he was only focused on you.
He kept fucking his fingers into you, his thumb circling your clit, making sure every inch of your pussy was being stimulated.
Your body was trembling, and you could feel yourself getting close again, you pushed your heels into the bed, trying to get away, but he didn't stop, he just kept going, his pace relentless.
"I can't- oh fuck-," You gasped, arching your back as the orgasm crashed over you. Your wetness soaked his hand and the bed below.
Elijah pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth and licking them clean. Then he kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips, tasting all of you.
You tried to glare at him, but he was now kissing your neck, his free hand moving down to cup your breast, teasing your nipples.
"I'm still mad at you," You panted, trying not to moan.
"I know," He smirked, "And I'm not finished with you."
He grabbed your thighs, spreading your legs, and settled between them, his eyes roaming over your body.
"Such a pretty thing," He murmured, tracing patterns on your skin.
He took ahold of your waist, pulling you towards him, and began to grind against your wet pussy, making you whimper.
"You're so sensitive, baby," He cooed, his lips brushing over your collarbone.
You could feel his erection straining against his pants, and you could tell he was enjoying this just as much as you were. He undid his belt, pulling it out of the loops, and tossing it to the floor.
He pulled your arms above your head, his hand gripping your wrists. He unzipped his pants and took his cock out, pressing it against your entrance.
"You're already soaked for me," He whispered, kissing you deeply.
You moaned into the kiss, and he pushed his cock into you, making you whimper. He was so thick, and his length filled you completely, making your body tremble.
He began to thrust into you, his pace steady, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing over your skin.
"I'm not a toy," You managed to say, your voice strained.
"No, you're not, you're mine," He growled, his hips slamming into yours, his cock hitting all the right spots.
"Fuck," You gasped, arching your back.
His grip on your wrists tightened, and he spread your legs even wider. He grinded his hips slowly, wanting to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible.
You could feel the pressure building, and it was becoming harder to concentrate, all you could focus on was his cock, his weight on top of you, the way he was looking at you.
"Say it," He growled, his hips moving faster now. "Tell me you're mine."
"I'm yours," You moaned, your voice cracking, your resolve breaking with every deep stroke.
The sound of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy filled the room, mixed with your moans and gasps, and the way the bed was creaking. He knew you were close, he could feel your muscles starting to clench around him.
"No no stubborn one, you don't get to cum yet," He growled, nipping at your ear.
He wrapped your legs around his waist, pinning you to the bed. His pace increased and he leaned in to kiss you.
"Come on darling, give in, admit I'm right," He whispered.
"Eli, please," You moaned, your fingers gripping his shirt.
"All you have to do is submit," He cooed, pressing his lips to yours.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to resist the urge to give in, but it was so intense and his pace was relentless. He wasn't going to stop, not until you broke.
"Look at the way you open up for me," He said, his voice husky as he grinded against you. "Your needy little pussy, milking my cock, begging to be filled."
You looked down at where his cock was buried inside of you, moving in and out of your pussy. You could see how wet you were, covering his pants and your thighs, making a mess of the sheets.
"Hmm, you like that? Seeing how wet you are, all for me," He whispered, leaning down to kiss you. "Just admit that you are stubborn, and we can cum together."
Your whole body was shaking, your orgasm so close, but you fought it, squeezing your thighs together, trying to close your legs, but he wouldn't let you.
You gave up, you didn't care about the fight anymore, you just wanted to cum, you just wanted him to stop torturing you. You couldn't think straight, everything was too much, his thrusts were deep and hard, his cock was filling you, stretching you out, he knew just how to fuck you.
You couldn't hold back anymore and you finally gave in, submitting to him. "You're right," you gasped, your voice barely audible. "Please, Eli, fuck, I'm sorry, just let me cum."
"Good girl," He groaned, leaning back and spreading your thighs wide, pounding into you. He began to stroke your clit with his thumb, drawing circles, as his hips snapped hard and fast.
It was all too much, and you felt an intense release, your body convulsing, your wetness soaking him, making a mess of the clothes he was still wearing and the bed.
He chuckled, watching your cheeks flush in embarrassment as he fucked you through it. He made you squirt all over him, submitting to him completely.
You were still trembling, trying to catch your breath, you couldn't focus, your whole body was tingling with pleasure, you felt like you were floating.
He kissed you deeply, pressing his body to yours before he let out a low groan and came inside you, his cock twitching. You shuddered, your pussy still sensitive, but he didn't stop, he continued moving his hips slowly.
You could feel the warmth of his cum filling you, his cock throbbing, his breathing uneven. He kissed you softly and slowly, his fingers brushing over your cheek, caressing your face as he pulled out of you.
Now that you had come down from your high, you felt a mixture of frustration and humiliation. You tried to move, but he held you there, a devilish grin plastered on his face.
He shifted onto his back, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him, your body on top of his, your chest pressing against his chest.
"I love you," he whispered, pulling you in for another kiss.
"Eli," you muttered, burying your face in his chest. You couldn't believe he had fucked you in that way, and now he was saying the three words you wanted to hear the most. He was so perfect and so infuriating at the same time. You were angry that he was able to make you give in so easily, but it was worth it. It had never felt so good.
"I love you too, asshole," you replied, making him laugh.
He kissed you once more before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. His hands rested on your lower back, tracing lazy circles.
"I'm sorry for being protective, it's not because I don't trust you, it's because I'm afraid of losing you," he said quietly.
"I know, and I'm sorry for saying that you're a control freak," you apologized.
"No you're not," He smirked, kissing you again.
"I'm getting there," you sighed.
He laughed, tracing the curve of your hips with his fingertips. You could feel him harden underneath you, and it turned you on again. And you slowly ground your hips against his, teasing him.
His eyes grew dark, and he placed his hands on your ass, squeezing firmly. "Darling, don't," He said warningly, his voice strained.
You ignored him, rolling your hips, grinding into his lap, you wanted more.
"Don't be so stubborn Eli-,"
You were on your back before you could finish your sentence, your legs spread, his lips on yours.
You were definitely going to fight with him more oftenâŚ
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Different Tastes: John & his Sweetheart
The '141' stops as soon as they are back home. After that, they are just close friends. Simon, John, Kyle and Johnny had managed to settle down and find themselves sweet little things. All who adore their brave men and all who share different tastes
In this 'series', it's essentially bits of each of the 141 one and their kinks they have with their partners. With that being said, I don't really care if you think that Soap is submissive or Ghost is into CNC/Primal play. That's great. But in this fantasy, this is what it is. It's what I wanted to write. If you want Kyle Garrick to be a pleasure Dom and John to be a Daddy Dom. Cool. Go find other fictions that write that, or be the one to write them. I'm not going to argue about what kinks they would really have.
CW: NSFW. aniligus on male and female anatomy. D/s dynamics. Name calling. Degradation. Oral. Humiliation. Aftercare. Mentions of pornography. Not establishing safe-words. Poor understanding of establishing BDSM boundaries too late. (Not in a non-con way. But two people who don't really have prior experience to BDSM).
MINORS DNI
John and his girl are perfect for each other. For his career, it's very difficult to turn the Captain mode 'off'. He's used to giving orders and taking control over situations. It had been a problem in all of his previous relationships.
So when he found you, his perfect girl, he would have moved the moon if it meant making you happy. Add into the fact that you did like to switch your brain on autopilot and let John control mostly everything, it worked out well for both of you.
Where do you want to eat tonight?
What do you think I should wear?
I'm getting kind of sick of my hair? What do you think? Longer, shorter? Darker? Lighter?
You always relied on his opinion and followed it.
John couldn't get enough. You never got sick of hearing his thoughts and opinions. You didn't get pissed when he gave you what sounded very much like an order. To you it was John being John. He didnât simply stop being a Captain when he wasnât in the field and you were content with that. Liked it even.
But soon enough his bossing around had taken you both down a slippery slope. You had always wanted to explore BDSM and each order in your everyday life made you fantasize about John as a Dominant. Your sex life with John was already fantastic and he always took the lead anyway. So it felt only natural to add-in some kinkier aspects. John wasn't opposed to tying you up. Dishing out occasional discipline when you did something wrong until you ultimately admitted you hated it.
You felt when he 'punished' you, you disappointed him. John's palms started to itch when you confessed that you would much rather him spank you simply because he wanted to. So he did. Whenever he pleased. Often bending you over the counter and giving you a few swats. Your pussy already dripping for him by the time he was finished.
Deeper and deeper you dove down to more than just tying you up and spanking your ass until your juices practically leaked down to your thighs. Service submission had been what you liked the most. If John told you to be on your knees when he got home with a whiskey neat in one hand and a plate of food in the other, you did it.
When you told him this, he started casually mentioning what kind of wedding ring styles you liked.
Eventually you admitted you like being degraded.
"I know you love me," you said one night. Lazily sitting on the couch with John after a dinner date with Kyle and his girlfriend. "And respect me." Butterflies fluttered uncomfortably in your stomach. You didnât want John to think you liked being abused per se, but this is something youâve wanted to try with him for so long. "but I don't always need to feel like Iâm respected during sex."
John didn't pull his arm off of you as he turned to face you better. His head tilting to the side when he asked you to elaborate. You felt your cheeks heat up as you told him how you wanted him to treat you like a toy. That during a scene, you wanted to feel like he had total control over your body. You could outline actions and phrases you were okay with if it made him feel better about doing it. Even developing safe words.
There hadn't been a need for safe words up until this point. If you asked John to stop, he stopped. If you complained about something hurting, he still stopped and either readjusted, or ended the scene. But this time you confessed that you didn't want ânoâ to be an option. No felt like you weren't being his good girl. You knew it didnât make you bad for stopping but it just helped in some weird way you couldnât quite explain.
He agreed. First came the colors. Then the limits. And most importantly, the fantasies.
After that John finally admitted that he wanted to try anal play on you since you didn't list it as a limit. Heâs always fantasized about it, but he had always felt uncomfortable asking you. At first you thought he simply meant a finger up your ass. Some poking and prodding that led up to anal.
However, with the new found confidence to truly divulge his desires to you. John laid it all out.
Price knows what he likes and he absolutely loves worshipping any part of you he can get his hands or mouth on.
The first time he ate your ass it quite literally stole your breath. He had you bent over his desk; his scattered reports long forgotten. You had just gotten home from work. He heard the opening and shutting of the door before grabbing his phone. He had texted you to come into his office in 30 minutes.
Your outfit is on the bed. Iâm in my office. Bring me a drink. Daddy feels like drinking some whiskey and eating a peach.
That was your signal. You were a nervous fucking wreck as you got ready.
Before you knew it, he had you bent over with two fingers in your cunt, rubbing that sweet spot while his tongue explored a place no one else ever had.
Months laters, neither of you were no longer shy about John taking you however he wanted. Whether that was hogtied with your ass in the air or you humping his boot when he ordered you to show him how much of a desperate little slut you were.
He loved seeing you so desperate for him. He was obsessed in the way you tensed when he had you bent over. Licking a long stripe from your clit all the way to your puckered hole before settling there.
What was once an occasional thing became a weekly occurrence.
As expected, the two of you eventually tried anal after realizing how good his tongue felt in your ass. The first time he fucked your ass he spent what felt like forever working his thick fingers inside of you before finally working your way up to take his cock. He refused to have such an intimate first thing be in any sort of scenario where he wasn't soft and loving. If you wanted it to be degrading, it would just have to wait.
John was a stern man, but he took care of you. This wasn't something that would be initially pleasant for you and he was damned and determined to make this a good experience by the end of it.
Because of the lack of pressure he put on you to just take it, you had loved it. Even craved it now. You loved when he called you a pathetic little whore after you followed his order of bending over and spreading your ass cheeks for him. You loved when he told you how pretty you looked before landing a glob of spit on your puckered asshole. You loved how he made you beg him to fuck your ass when it was that time of the month; that you were so desperate for his cock you will take it in any hole.
But funny enough, as much quality time John seemed to have with your asshole, you can't really remember if you've ever seen his. Sure, youâve seen his bare ass sauntering around the house and in the shower, but heâs never been in a compromising position while naked.
Even funnier, you're not sure if you've ever really seen a guy's asshole. So down the rabbit hole of pornhub you went until you found what eating ass was also known as.
Rimming.
And more importantly, how men were rimmed. Your curiosity had eventually grown to wondering what it was like. What would it be like?
So you just asked him.
At first he laughed, assuming you were joking. But then you shamelessly admitted to finding it hot. You confessed how the porn youâve been watching had pretty much centered around male worship. Although the underarm area and feet were usually something you skipped over, seeing women on their knees giving rimjobs was something that made your core ache when you thought about doing it with John.
To say he was flustered was an understatement. He tried to dissuade you. Insisting that it was, well, gross were his exact words. When a flash of hurt crossed your face he realized his mistake.
It wasnât that he thought the act itself was gross per se. He felt as though he was gross. "Too gross to let a pretty little thing like you do that." Yet it didnât deter you from showing him how much you wanted him.
With a little bit of assurance that itâs something you wanted to do, not just reciprocate what he had been doing, he relented. Although, having you on your knees, hump his boot practically begging to with tears in your eyes did make him believe you actually wanted this. John loved when you begged him, but always felt the need to tell you yes when he wasn't serving as your dominant.
Yes. John loved taking charge, but he hated telling you no when you hardly ever asked for anything.
So. It was a safety measure John and you had put into place. When you wanted something that he may say no to because he felt as if it would degrade you as a partner, you didnât ask as his partner; you asked as his submissive. This put in the acknowledgment that he wasn't making the decision as a partner. John was going to do what he thought best, whether or not you agreed to it. You always set the precent, gave him the permission to be the one to make the decisions. It showed him that you trusted him and whatever he decided.
John always felt more freely when you had gotten in your sub space. He felt more confident in telling you no or giving you orders. He had spent so long being the one to call the shots in his career, he was always afraid of his domineering nature taking control in the relationship.
Your confidence in him meant everything.
He had just gotten home from an extended stay on base. Usually you were able to get a facetime or a call here and there, but besides the occasional texts you were met with radio silence for almost five days.
It wasn't until he came home Saturday just before lunch. You had snacked all day, suddenly feeling guilty you hadn't even gotten groceries for the week. You offered to order something when he told you he hadn't eaten lunch, but he declined.
"C'mere, sweetheart." He ordered pointing right at his boots. A soft smile played on his lips as you sank down to your knees and crawled over to him. John took a deep breath. Reminding himself he can't fuck you right now. Not when he finally built up the courage to do what he was about to do.
âI need to freshen up." He said, squatting down until he was almost eye level with you. "Open." He ordered. Without hesitation, you opened your mouth, tongue out prepared to let him do whatever he wanted. He gently grabbed your tongue, holding it between his thumb and finger before giving it a light squeeze. Drool already slipping out of your mouth. "When I get out of the shower, I expect you to be in our room, on all fours with this pretty little tongue to worship me. Understand, sweetheart?"
Your eyes widened as you felt your core involuntarily clenching around nothing. Fuck. This was so hot. Fuck. This was happening. It was happening.
John stood at his full height before heading to the master bedroom. You waited until you heard the clicking of the door before practically sprinting behind him.
You sat on your knees, anxiously listening to the sound of the running water from the bathroom. You wondered how he would discuss it. Both of you played out possible scenarios and weeded out ones you were absolutely not okay with doing.
One scenario you agreed on was you laying on your back with your head hanging off the bed. John would face fuck you for a bit before he got into a sixty-nine position. He would have the view of you playing with your greedy little pussy. You would lap at him like a pathetic whore while he stroked his cock before he finally came all over your tits.
One thing John didn't feel comfortable doing was simply bending over on his hands and knees. Hiking up a leg, sure. But something about the position made him feel vulnerable and he just didn't want to try it.
Waiting patiently by the foot of the bed. On your hands and knees like a good girl, you head the water shut off.
Fresh out of the shower, John walked over to you before sitting down on the bed. You waited for his order. Never jumping the gun and simply taking him the moment he waved his cock in front of your face.
He spread his thighs apart, letting his limp cock hang near the edge of the bed. "Put my cock in your mouth, but don't suck. Just want you to warm him up a bit." You immediately take him in your mouth without hesitation. Loving the way you feel his cock slowly harden.
You maintain eye contact, trying hard not to move your tongue. Fighting every urge to start sucking and being a good little whore. When he finally give you permission, he still sets the pace. His hand firm on the back of your neck.
"Go at your own pace, sweetheart." He said, kissing your forehead. "Just remember," He reminded, his voice still gentle. "Mo fingers and stop if you need to, yeah?" You nod, remembering that he's doing this for you.
He scooted down further on the bed before laying on his back. Legs spread.
You weren't really sure where to start. So you just started slow. Built up to the same way John did to you when he was the one licking your ass. You started with soft kisses. Letting your teeth graze over the skin of his thighs, getting closer and closer to where you wanted to be.
You felt him stiffen as you got closer. You gave a soft kiss before waiting for him to tell you to stop.
He doesn't.
You continue.
You start soft. Closing your eyes and licking and mouthing at his asshole like you were making out with it.
"Fuck." You hear him curse, but he doesn't tell you to stop.
"Can I please rub my pussy, Sir?" You asked, your hands aching to touch your wet cunt.
"Yes." He granted, his hand starting to slowly stroke his cock. "But you still need permission to cum." He reminded before closing his eyes and letting you continue.
With low curses and gasps falling from his mouth you became more and more enthralled. Your face pressing harder and harder against him. Trying to get your tongue as deep inside him as you possibly could.
The humiliation of it all making you feel already so close to falling over the edge. Your fingers rubbed methodical circles around your clit as you began mindlessly nodding your head along, tongue sticking out; lapping at his asshole like the stupid little bitch you were.
âYou like that, huh? Licking me like the dirty little slut that you are." He said, knowing that was something you wanted to be told.
âYes, Sir." You admitted, only breaking away briefly to answer him before resuming servicing him.
âDamn fucking right.â He growled out. "That's my good little whore. Worshipping my fucking asshole." His words made you clench around nothing. Making you wish you had asked to use a dildo or the fucking machine instead.
Next time. You thought.
"Can-fuck-" He pants tugging harder at his cock, his orgasm building. "Can I push your head, sweetheart?" It wasn't something the two of you had went over, but he wanted to be sure. During blowjobs were fine, but you had never done this before.
"Yes! Please!" You pant out before feeling his hand grab a hold of the back of your head and pulling you deeper into him.
You manage to spit, making it sloppier, wetter. Easier for you face to glide and knowing it probably felt better for him too. It's not too long before Price finds himself grinding pathetically against your face. "Fuck, sweetheart." He pants. "Fuck that feels so good."
You could barely breathe. Your mouth too busy lapping away at his asshole to bother breathing. Your nose pressed too hard against his taint to get any air. You decided if this is how you die... well, you wouldn't hate it. Hard
"Can I cum? Can I cum?" You repeated. Your voice muffled, but John knew what you wanted.
"Cum, but don't you fucking stop." He ordered. His grip tightening, legs beginning to tense. "I'm so close. Don't stop, sweetheart."
You kept going. Your jaw beginning to become sore as you kept going. Not even stopping when you felt John's body shake. Not stopping when your own orgasm took hold of you. Tears falling from the intensity of it all.
Not stopping when you heard him release a string of curses and praises. Not stopping when you felt his cum landing on the top of your head. Only slowing when he began to relax. Only stopping until he finally pulled you away.
You sat on your heels. Hands placed on your thighs. Waiting for him to look up at you. You were in position just waiting for fall apart. Trying so hard to be his good girl.
Finally he collected himself enough to manage to sit up. He looked down at you, marveling at the sight.
Mascara smeared. Face covered in spit. His cum now dripping from your head down to your face. Fuck, you looked beautiful.
Fuck.
Your hair.
Was that something you agreed on doing?
Fuck.
You had both agreed on him coming in you, on your face, tits, pussy or ass. Hell, you even agreed to lick it off of him or if any of it fell onto the hardwood. But you never went over if coming in your hair.
"Sorry, sweetheart." He apologized, swiping at a string of cum on your eye brown, threatening to make its' way into your pretty eyes. "Should have asked if your hair was okay." You smiled hazily at his concern, but honestly thought it was a little funny. This man pushed your face into his asshole while he called you filthy things and he was worried that you were concerned over a little cum in your hair.
"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" All you could do was nod as John hauled you to your feet and practically carrying you to the shower.
Tenderly, he got the oil based cleanser and began to clean your face as gentle as he could. It wasnât methodical and not necessarily the best way, but he was too worried about rubbing your face too harshly knowing how raw it probably felt.
You didnât care. You always marveled in the tenderness of his touch after an intense scene. Basked in his words of praise and adoration after he debased and dehumanized you. It was therapeutic. To be taken so low only to have the same man build you back up.
He spoke lowly in your ear. âDid so well for me, sweet girl.â After he ran the soft spray of water over your face, he pulled you tightly to his chest. You felt his lips press on your wet hair. âMade me feel so fucking good.â
You felt your knees weaken, but John continued to pamper you. Being sure to take extra care in washing your face again until at the remanets of your messed up make up was gone.
"You liked it?" You asked, closing in your eyes. Relishing in his touch.
"Yes, baby." He answered. "I loved it." Your chest swelled with pride. He liked it. He liked your fantasy too.
"Would you wanna do it again?" You asked, praying the answer was yes.
"I'd love that." You hummed in contentment as he turned you around, now starting on your hair.
Although John had never came in your hair before, he had learned your washing routine to the point of perfection and honestly his touch felt so much better than your own. It was a way of aftercare now, but initially he learned when you had hit a sub drop.
Neither of you knew that it even existed before it was too late. And two days after an intense scene you still hadn't washed your hair.
When he finally finished, he grabbed one of the microfiber towels you used to dry your hair. He methodically and gently squeezed out the access water before wrapping you in a huge towel. He stayed behind in the shower for only a minute to wash away your spit before joining you.
He took your hand, leading you to the sinks before turning you around to face him. You hated this part. It was when you were the most exhausted and you wanted to just crawl into bed. "Gotta dry it, Sweetheart." He said, sitting you down on the bathroom counter. "Just relax. Let me handle it."
So you did. You let John handle it. Let him have the power. It always worked out better for you anyway.
Eventually, John was satisfied and picked you back up. You were half asleep, barely holding on when he tucked you in. He pulled your back close to his chest.
It was nearing the end of your aftercare. John was scrolling on doordash, trying to find something that would be good to eat as he always did, asking for input. Sometimes you offered it. Mostly you said anything he wanted was fine. He always made sure it would be delivered after an hour. Giving you enough time to bask in the post-coital cuddles.
He continued talking. How much he enjoyed it. What he wouldn't mind trying next. Your eye were growing heavier and heavier the more he spoke. A brief moment of silence passed before he spoke again.
âYou know,â he started. âJohnny was mentioning something about pet play with his girl.â It wasn't surprising. The four men of the 141 weren't shy in telling the others what them and the missus had been up to in the bedroom. Even going as far as to let the girls play together, but making it a point to never share.
None of them had any interest in letting another man touch what belonged to them, but they didn't mind letting the girls indulge in a little girl time.
âHeaven knows that MacTavish needs to be collared.â You said, feeling the edges of sleep beginning to take over your vision. You tried to stifle a yawn as you spoke, to no avail while John barked out a laugh.
âWho says Johnny's the dog?â He asked.
#John price#captain john price#smut#call of duty#captain price x reader#john price x reader#no mentions of y/n#reader is female#reader has hair#reader is not a specific ethnicity
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           I find it interesting that even in the epilogue, four years after Camila has had time to be more acquainted with the Boiling Isles under non-threatening circumstances, sheâs still creeped out by it. And this is fine! The narrative isnât condemning her for it. Itâs not demanding that she enjoy these things like Luz does; Itâs just asking for her to respect its existence, and to support Luzâs interest in it and love her too.
           In For the Future, we see Camila horrified by what she encounters in the Boiling Isles; But she also spends the whole episode pushing through it anyway for Luzâs sake, being there for her as much as she can. Because she knows these are just feelings and nothing more, and sheâs choosing to be kind in spite of them.
           By contrast, in this same episode we find out Belos does feel empathy and guilt towards his brother and nephew, he wasnât purely 100% only interested in what they could do for him; And yet, heâs still just as cruel and violent towards them. Heâs still cruel and violent towards witches and demons, sometimes using the âtragedyâ of Caleb as a justification. Hell, he even resents the ghosts for making him feel guilty, telling them to âShut up.â
           Isnât that fascinating? Disgust is portrayed as a morally neutral thing. Itâs not an indictator of morality, it doesnât mean something is bad⌠But it doesnât mean the person who feels it is bad, either, people donât consider that enough. Itâs just a gut reaction. Sometimes people have internalized biases they need to work through, but other times, itâs pretty harmless as long as theyâre self-aware and donât do anything bad over it; This even applies to the process of unlearning the aforementioned biases.
           Likewise, empathy and guilt donât actually, necessarily make you a good person. The example with Belos shows how some people will actually be crueler because of empathy, because they resent people for being upset, and thus making them feel upset because they naturally empathize. Hence those who get angry at people in pain and need for âruining their vibe,â because now they feel bad too.
           Thereâs a juxtaposition in how Camila seems genuinely more scared and creeped out by the isles on a visceral level than Belos, and yet Camila has the common sense to still respect and fight for its existence; Whereas Belos chooses to make a mountain out of a molehill because itâs not just hatred, itâs pride. It all boils down to his ego at the end of the day. In many ways, other characters struggle with dilemmas more difficult than Belosâ, yet still do better than he ever has.
           This all plays into my thesis that TOH is arguing your feelings are secondary to your actions, and that the latter is what decides whether youâre a âgoodâ person or not. In the end, someone whoâs had a good life and was a dick for selfish reasons, only to choose to be better, is more sympathetic and morally superior than someone who suffered a million unfair grievances, and proceeded to dole out a million unfair grievances, with no sign of stopping; Especially from an IRL perspective, and I think our IRL feelings sometimes influence how we engage with media, and vice-versa.
           Thatâs why the finale âand the show as a wholeâ emphasizes choices, over inherent, instinctual feelings. A decent chunk of Camilaâs arc could be summarized by the word Squick; In the sense that itâs meant to describe things that one feels personal disgust and discomfort towards, but otherwise has no moral condemnation or problem with; Itâs just a Me thing, is the point of Squick. Camila is like that sex-repulsed ace who nevertheless supports kink at Pride.
           That gets me to how my ruminations were prompted by a similar observation; How some people lump sex-repulsed aces in with the oppressive Puritans who hate sex in anything, but thatâs not true at all. Obviously thereâs the rare Exception, but as a whole, sex-repulsed aces are on the side of other queers who ARE sexual and are demanding to let these things be normalized; Itâs not for them, but they have no moral condemnation and will fight for it in solidarity anyway, especially since both are hated by the system regardless. Sound familiar?
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I guess you probably get asked why youâre converting a lot but I still want to ask,
I dunno, I don't think I really get asked all that much, to be honest. Usually when I do it's like -- I mention I'm converting to a Jewish person and they'll be like "Getting married?" and I'll explain I'm not, which does necessitate an additional explanation.
It's difficult to vocalize, which is interesting because it has really very little to do with faith, and that's usually the most difficult part of discussing any conversion, I think. Often I'll just say, "I heard a call". Which is actually a rather Christian way of putting it, but I think it's probably the easiest way to explain, especially in a heavily Christian culture.
I had...I don't want to call it religious trauma exactly because compared to most people I know who exited Christianity, it wasn't traumatic -- I was just raised in Christianity and had trouble buying the faith in the various ways it was presented to me, and there's a certain type of ardent Christian who comes at you hard if you're in their church asking awkward questions. A few encounters with some egregious megachurches in my youth left a bad taste in my mouth, so in my twenties I really wanted nothing to do with religion and didn't have the time or energy anyway -- I wasn't actively anti-religion, just disinterested.
But in my thirties I had to ask myself, do I wish to be part of a faith community? And once I'd decided that despite being pretty heavily agnostic I did want that in my life, I had to decide what I wanted it to look like. There are churches within many branches of Christianity that are fine, and there are whole branches that are fine too, but I kept tripping over my disinterest in Jesus. I did almost become a Quaker but although I really like a lot of the Friends' attitudes towards social justice and I enjoyed silent Meeting, it eventually didn't feel quite right for me (the Quakers in my life refer to me as "Friend-ly"). I looked into Zen Buddhism but didn't click with it in quite the way I'd hoped.
Judaism didn't feel perfect, but unlike other faiths, after several years of study I have yet to reach a point where it feels "not for me" in the way the others did after a few months; even when I struggle with some aspects, instead of saying "I don't think this is it" I dig deeper, and Judaism is a place where you can just...keep digging. I like the sense of history, I like the idea that you can argue not only with other Jews but with the divine itself and maybe even win; I don't like arguing but I like that the option is there, which it never was in my Christian confirmation classes. I like the way Judaism frames community and family, I like the emphasis on scholarship and exploration. I've had to unlearn a lot of weird Christian and atheist attitudes about the Torah, but that's been educational too. Ancient cultures have always interested me and Judaism is sometimes the practice of actively conversing with ancient history that has been incredibly preserved but not calcified. I like that I can be an agnostic Jew if I so choose, once I finish conversion.
(Sometimes I joke, "Eh, I'm not really a huge fan of pork, either, so it's an excuse not to eat pork chops," but that's a joke for very specific company. I don't keep kosher or plan to, but I like that there is an option to show one's devotion through acts of nourishment, and that food is always such a huge part of Jewish ritual. And I like Jewish food.)
There is something in me that reacts to Jewish storytelling -- the fear and fasting of Esther, discourse on the sacrifice of Isaac, grumpy Rabban Gamliel from the Talmud, even the history of the Piazza Alla Cinque Schole when I stumbled into it in Rome. I didn't care particularly about the story of Moses when I learned it as a child, but I sniffle at the parting of the Red Sea in Prince of Egypt every damn time. Not even because of the miracle! I'm simply moved by the vision of a people going to freedom, scared but going, protecting each other and singing as they go.
Anyway. I'm in a conversation with Judaism that isn't over yet, and either eventually I'll reach a point where it ends, or I'll convert and be in this conversation the rest of my life. Kind of fun not to know yet which it will be.
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Understanding Tsumiki and Megumi's relationship
Hey there! It's me, Megumi's defense attorney - here once more to defend my boy.
I've been seeing A LOT of people saying they cannot sympathize with Megumi's grief because they don't know Tsumiki that well. And although I would argue that you don't need to know the person who died for you to sympathize with the one who was left behind - I do understand what these people mean, i don't agree with them! But I understand why they think this. And yes, we dont know Tsumiki.
However, we first need to understand why gege chose to present Tsumiki this way. On a surface level, she can only be seen as 'the thing that would cause Megumi's downfall' - we dont know her thoughts, her ambitions, her real personality, anything really - except for what Megumi says about her. A 'textbook good person'.
And that's because she is a character that we were only able to see through someone else's eyes. We don't know Tsumiki, because Megumi doesn't know Tsumiki.
BUT WAIT!! What do I mean by that?
Before that though, I would like to say first! This doesn't mean that Megumi's love for her is diminished by this. Just because he doesn't know her doesn't mean he doesn't love her. Megumi cares about her more than anyone in his life, and that's a fact!
Now we can proceed! What does this mean? Let's look at this page from ch 56: origin of obedience:
This was a case that they have been investigating, and it is pretty damn close to Megumi's and Tsumiki's old school. And yet, the thought that Tsumiki might have went to the bridge with her classmates never crossed his mind. He doesnt know that Tsumiki is someone capable of breaking the rules, going against curfew, and joining her friends to go to a haunted bridge in the dead of night. This boy Megumi thinks his sister is a damn saint.
He put Tsumiki on a pedestal, and it resulted in her turning into nothing but the mold of a good person Megumi uses to judge other people. If a person is not Tsumiki-shaped, then they're not worth saving. ((Luckily for Yuuji, he IS Tsumiki-shaped lmao. But anyway!))
Truth be told, I used to think it sucks that we never knew Tsumiki outside of what Megumi says. I never felt bad when she died, I felt bad that Megumi's sister died. I felt bad FOR Megumi.
And now that I actually think on it, THAT was the exact point. We dont NEED to know Tsumiki, we only needed to see her through Megumi's eyes - and through that, understand that Megumi doesn't really know her that well.
It is something that Megumi have to mull over. Why did he keep Tsumiki at an arm's length despite how much he cares for her? Why is it so hard for him to let people in? Why is asking someone for help so difficult for him?
ITS BECAUSE OF THAT MFKER TOJI!!!! IM TELLING YA'LL!! /hj
Look at the face he was making in Toji's memory. That's a kid who shows his emotions outright. My boy is pouting (ă¤âĽďšâĽ)ă¤. But when Gojo met him, Megumi has become a total idgafker (at least on the outside). And thats not only because Gojo was a stranger - coz thats how he looks like when he talks to Tsumiki too. It's because he became that way when Toji left.
Anyway, my point is, due to Megumi's abandonment issues - he never let anyone in. EVER. Not even Tsumiki. Megumi put a wall between him and other people - for his own protection. The one who came a little bit close into breaking that wall is Yuuji (and we are yet to see how that goes).
And this is why, we as the readers are all detached from Tsumiki's character. Because we saw her through Megumi's eyes, who loves her and cares about her very, very much - yet despite that he never let her get too close. (ăŁ- ⸠- Ď)
If you read up to here, whats up! Thank you for reading! Feel free to counter it or anything, Im happy to discuss!
((also something to add: Megumi cares so much about Tsumiki because she's the first one who actively chose to stay - amidst all the people who left.
this was inspired by a great megumi character analysis i found on twitter:
read it if you have time! its really good!
#jujutsu kaisen#megumi fushiguro#jjk#jujutsu megumi#fushiguro tsumiki#megumi and tsumiki#megumi#tsumiki#jjk rant#jjk ramblings#jjk rambles#megumi and tsumiki character analysis#jjk character analysis#i miss megumi
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Percy Jackson x Child of Apollo âď¸
Pairing(s): Percy Jackson x Gn!Reader
Honestly I like the idea of an Apollo kid(aka you) looking down on Percy
Not necessarily with being evil but rather being competitive and having fun
Maybe this is when Percy decides to walk on by, heâs extremely skilled with swords so why not see what others do with their respective weapon?
Heâs walking by and thatâs when he sees you in particular
Youâre shots are extremely accurate and one after another with little hesitation
Just because Percyâs a camp legend doesnât mean heâs excused from doing chores
And so, heâs paired with you and some other people to clean out the restrooms
Thatâs when a friendly banter blossoms and youâre going on about how awesome arrows are to use and how his only power is water when youâre throwing out trash
He gasps in feign offense and tries his best to convince you water is just as cool as arrows
Although that may prove to be difficult to argue to an archer, and arrow enthusiast
The talents and impressiveness that Percy feels only doubles when he learns of your other skills
The moment he learns you can draw is when heâs amazed
He was never particularly good in the arts but he loves people who draw and paint or anything really
He may or may not be a little annoying with asking you to draw him but he doesnât even need to ask
We all know an artists love language is drawing their s/o and just as that was inevitable, as was Percy finding said drawings
Not that they were ever secret
And if you ever do the trend where you draw each other? Heâll keep the portrait you painted of him and hang it on his wall with the rest of your drawings.
Anyway moving on to instruments
Heâs also immediately fascinated
Something about Percy is that if itâs not something he can do heâs intrigued and if it is and youâre better then heâs ready to learn
Honestly? I feel like Percy gives drums or guitar vibes
Idk maybe itâs just me đ¤ˇ
Heâd definitely ask you to teach him though, I donât make the rules
Heâs always wanted to learn but with school and constantly having to prevent wars and save the world he never had enough time
Plus with him youâve got your own built in audience thatâll cheer and give praise
Even more ways to bond
There are a good amount of campers that belong to the Apollo cabin so when Percy is introduced to the them heâs met with a culture shock
Not exactly but itâd be a comparable idea to what he was feeling
He was alone most times (except for when Tyson was around) so he was used to be alone
But with the Apollo cabin? That was the opposite
It was warm and friendly and honestly was sad
Because although it was tight knit we all know that the cabin used to be tied with the Hermes cabin at camp until the titan war..
On a more happy note, now that Iâve mentioned Tyson letâs talk about how you meeting him went
I mean he was immediately nice to you as you were to him but if you show him your skills and specifically healing
You and Percy were hanging out with him near the lake and a very notable flower on the ground was crushed
Sure, Demeter children handled plants but healing was a universal effect
And so you made the once shriveled dry flower, seem alive again
Tyson is so intrigued and wants you to do it over and over again
Which is eventually stopped with Percy explaining why you canât
It was sweet, and you even gave the flower to Tyson
Later you found out he kept it with him where he went, although it was delicate as it had already dried
I feel like an Apollo kid that can heal is so helpful for Percy
We all know how often he gets hurt so having a built in hospital is all he could need
Only downside is your constant scolding of courseâŚ
#fanfic#gn reader#male reader#fluff#fanfic fluff#female reader#fluff headcanons#percy jackson x fem!reader#percy jackson disney+#percy x male reader#percy jackson x reader#percy x reader#percy jackson fandom#percy pjo#percy series#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#rick riordanverse#rick riordan
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"Deeper, sinking, ever frowning" P1- ?
You had to cover two coworkers' shifts in the afternoon due to a "family emergency" that both of them had at the same timeâquite the coincidence. You accepted covering their shifts without any issue because you didn't want to argue over the cheap excuse they were using, not to mention you already had enough of your own problems. So, your shift that was supposed to end at 4 p.m. stretched until around 8:45 after covering both shifts.
When you finished packing up your things and saying goodbye to your night-shift coworkers, wishing them a good evening, you decided to walk home. It was only four blocks, and you'd be there in no time. You were eager to get home since you and your fiancĂŠ had agreed to make some delicious cheese empanadas when you got off work, meaning you'd have to apologize for being late.
While imagining the dramatic little scolding Sebastian would give you when you arrived, a small smile played on your lips as you twisted the silver ring on your finger back and forth.
You couldnât wait for the big day. You already had a bunch of ideas to share with the wedding planner.
Only two more blocks to go before you reached your home, and just thinking about the empanadas was making your mouth water. Sebastian had passed on his love for them to you.
You were about to pull out your phone from your pocket to text Sebastian that you were almost home when the flashing red and blue lights stopped you in your tracks.
You were already there. You didnât have any blocks left to go.
You blinked several times to realize that police tape was surrounding much of the street, along with three police cars parked right in front of your house.
This must be a mistake, right? Maybe there had been some kind of disturbance on the street or at a neighborâs house, and they wanted to see if anyone knew anything.
It had to be that.
With shaky steps, you approached the police cordon, only for one of the officers to roughly grab your shoulder, causing you to stumble awkwardly over your own feet.
"Excuse me, do you live here?" asked a blond-haired officer, holding a small notepad in his left hand.
You looked him up and down for a few seconds before nodding, your head lowered, unsure of what was going on.
"Yes, I live here with my fiancĂŠ. Has something happened?"
The word "fiancĂŠ" left a sweet taste in your mouth, but you brushed it aside for the moment to focus on what was happening and to find out with more certainty why they seemed to be investigating your house.
When you lifted your head, you noticed the officer rubbing his nose in frustration, as if irritated by something in particular.
The seconds dragged on, feeling longer with each passing moment. The silence was maddening. You had no idea what was going on, and that was frustrating. Was Sebastian even aware of this? Where was he, anyway?
"You see... There was a murder of about nine people recently, and the killer wasn't found at the scene. Now," the officer paused, tapping the small notepad with his index finger, seemingly trying to find the right words. "it seems that your fiancĂŠ, Sebastian Solace, was the perpetrator of those murders."
"Excuse me, but that has to be a mistake." you said, your body going rigid as you listened to the officer from start to finish.
You felt as if you were on autopilot, no longer fully aware of your surroundings after hearing his words. The world seemed to stop for a long fraction of a second as you tried to process what you'd just been told.
The situation felt unreal, like a bad dream you were having because youâd fallen asleep at the counter during one of your breaks.
Sebastian could never have done something so horrible, let alone murdered nine innocent people. He would never do something like that.
The Sebastian you knew was the most loving, caring, and playful person you'd ever met. He was both your best friend and your future husband. Heâd been with you through every difficult moment. He was the little and big brother who liked to annoy his two siblings, reluctantly helping his younger brother with his homework when he came over, and buying little gifts for his older sister, things they used to do together when they were younger. He was the best son, always there for his mom, even if they argued over some silly thing. He always apologized to her for being an idiot.
Sebastian Solace wasnât capable of something like this.
You forced yourself to snap back to reality when the thought of finding Sebastian crossed your mind.
If the police had been here for a while now, they mustâve found him already, right? They wouldnât have taken him away to the station or somewhere worse by now.
Court would be too soon of a step, and you hoped they hadnât taken him there yet.
"Miss, I ask you once again to come with me for questioningâ" The officerâs words fell on deaf ears as you rushed past him, your eyes scanning for any sign of Sebastian.
Your gaze darted back and forth as you tried not to trip over your own feet, your body trembling more and more from the anxiety eating away at you.
When your eyes landed on a particular police car, with about four officers surrounding it, you got the idea that someone might be inside.
You hurried over, faster than before, not caring about what might happen next.
You felt a brush against your shoulder, like youâd bumped into someone, but you paid it no mind and got as close as you could to the carâs tinted windows. It was hard to see inside, but when you squinted, you made out a figure handcuffed in the middle of the back seat. Blue eyes met yours for a split second before you were abruptly shoved back.
A policewoman had pushed you, gripping both your shoulders to face you.
The only thing you noticed was her lips moving quickly and firmly, as if she was reprimanding you for something. But you didnât bother to process her words, nor her appearanceâyour mind wasnât on your side at that moment, nor was it focusing on reality.
You were only thinking of those blue eyes you had seen for a fleeting moment but had known almost all your life.
Theyâd already arrested him. Had they even given him a chance to explain or defend himself? Once again, the situation felt too surreal.
You wanted to do something, anything, but you didnât feel strong enough.
You had to do somethingâyou couldnât just stand there and do nothing.
#pressure x reader#sebastian solace#sebastian solace fanfic#sebastian solace x reader#sebastian solace x you#sebastian x reader
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đđ§đđŽđŤđ˘đđđ˘đ§đ đđđĽđ¨đđ˘đđŹ | đđ |
a/n: about fucking time lol im so exhausted. hope yall enjoy <3
Warnings: Contains cursing
AU Inspo: Soulmates can hear each other listening to music. The further the distance, the softer the music. The closer, the louder until they find each other.
| [ đ§đđąđ ] | [ đŚđđ˘đ§ đŚđđŹđđđŤđĽđ˘đŹđ ] |
â â â â â â â â â âÂ
âSoulmates are essential to survive. There is nothing like the sensation of meeting each other for the first time, and subsequently knowing that youâre fated to be with each other forever. Through thick and thin, they'll always have your back.â
You snort. Miss Grenadine lifts her brow into a delicate arch, her unamused expression remaining the same as you cover your mouth, trying to fake a cough. âIs there something youâd like to share with the class on your last day?â
People around you start to snigger, and you can feel the glances poking your skin like tiny mosquitoes buzzing all over. âNot really.â
âNo, no. Please, enlighten me as to what exactly you find so amusing about soulmates.â
âMaybe itâs because she hasnât found hers yet?â Another classmate suggests. You turn around to see Henry smirking, high-fiving the rest of his friends whoâre evidently entertained by his jab.
You roll your eyes, letting a huff slip past your lips. âAnd you keep arguing with yours, no wonder Iâm not jealous that I donât have one yet.â His friends suck in a sharp breath between their teeth in a hiss, glancing warily between you both.Â
âThank you for your input, Henry. But I asked your classmate, not you.â Heâs silenced from uttering another word under Ms Grenalineâs sharp gaze, wilting into his seat with a muttered retort under his breath.Â
You turn your attention back to your teacher whoâs waiting patiently, hands folded over her stomach in a motherly manner. But you know better. This is fake sympathy, flaky pity in her eyes as she thinks to herself how unlucky you are for not having yet met your soulmate.Â
You get it. Youâre an anomaly. Itâs ânot normalâ for people to not yet meet their soulmates by the time theyâre 18. One way or another, the universe always finds a way to pull two people together by the age of 16. Yet, youâre the exception.Â
âI just think the whole music thing is annoying. I mean, do you all not get annoyed? What if you hate metal, but they love it? Even then, itâs just insane how much our lives border on needing someone. Why not just travel alone? Enjoy life?â You lean back in your seat, crossing your arms defiantly as Ms Grenalineâs eyes widen with every word.
You watch her take a moment to compose herself, plastering a smile on her face as she comes up with the right words to say. Honestly, you couldnât care less what she wanted to say to you; itâs your last day here anyway.Â
âWell,â She pauses, clearly struggling on how to phrase her words in a way that wouldnât get you to retort once again, âItâsâŚa very difficult process to describe in words. I understand where youâre coming from with the music aspect, but over time just like how one day you can wake up and decide that you like the colour purple, youâll experience something similar.â
âYouâre right.â You nod. Sheâs momentarily taken aback by your agreeable response, only to frown when you continue speaking. âIt is a difficult process to put in words. And you know what? Maybe not everyone needs a soulmate.â You flash her a toothy smile just as the bell rings, grabbing your bag and starting for the door. âBeen good, Ms G.â
You donât turn to see her reaction, focused on getting to the diner on Sixth Street where youâd promised to meet up for one last meal with your friends before you moved to Ninjago City. Putting the earbuds into your ears makes you wince, shaking your head slightly as the familiar yet nauseating sound of jazz plays faintly in the back of your mind.Â
Stupid jazz, stupid music, stupid soulmate.
Right. Your soulmate. You still havenât told anyone this, but a few months ago, you began to hear the faint sounds of smooth jazz play now and then in your head. You thought you were just going crazy at first, but upon further observation, you concluded that there could only be one cause: Your soulmate was nearby.Â
But for some annoying reason, your soulmate loves jazz with a passion. it was always either that or soft rock. Plus, theyâre always annoyingly far enough to not have it impounded into your head, but still close enough to have it constantly on repeat in your head.Â
The day it first started, you had just finished watching a horror movie and were about to go to bed. However, your soulmate had decided that 5 AM was the perfect time to start listening to soft rock. The sharp twangs of an electric guitar and the steady beats of the drums were enough to keep you up instead of getting your beauty sleep.Â
lil binder [ 02:00 PM ]: u otw yet?Â
You grin at the message on your screen, typing out a reply to your friend, Melody, as pop music blasts away through your earbuds and effectively drowning out the beginnings of a saxophone.
smartie pebble [ 02:00 PM ]: yea be there in 7
Melody was just one of many of your friends. She had found her soulmate at the tender age of 15, accidentally spilling ice cream on him because she had been too distracted talking to you. Having bore witness to the entire âlove-at-first-sightâ moment between them, you scooched away as she proceeded to forget about your entire existence in the next hour.
However, now Luke and her were inseparable, and wherever she was, he was bound to be there too. Luckily though, you had bonded with him over your mutual love of cooking, with Melody constantly being on the receiving end of many of your competitive inventions.Â
âYo, itâs the one and only rockstar of our generation!â Luke crows as you enter the diner, and you instinctively stick up your middle finger at him. He grins, slinging an arm over your shoulder as you set down your bag in the booth seats.Â
âAbout time you got here.â Brendan greets, subtly nudging Nico who glances up from his game for a moment to say a quick âhiâ. The former is in his uniform as usual, while Nico decided to change out of his, relaxed vest and tapered pants his go-to outfit.
âYouâll never guess what happened today.â Nico arches an eyebrow, though his gaze is focused solely on the rhythm game on his screen.
âLet me guess, you got into another argument about soulmates again.â You look up to see Melody arrive at the table with a large tray of food, tucking away the strings of the apron around her waist. âWhen will you learn that itâs inevitable?â She sighs, pinching the skin between her eyes and shaking her head in disapproval.Â
âMaybe itâs because sheâs around us too much,â Luke pouts, snaking his arm around her waist. She grins, ruffling the top of his head.Â
âPlease, for the love of the First Spinjitzu Master, make it stop,â You groan, pretending to gag and narrowly dodging the packet of chilli she throws in your direction. Picking it up, you tear it open and squeeze out the sauce, dipping the fries into it and eating them with relish.
âSo, whatâd Ms Grenaline say this time?â Luke focuses his attention on you, letting go of Melody who slides into the seat next to him. Nico steals a fry, munching away even though his meal is right in front of him. He even put away his phone, eagerly waiting to hear what new fight youâd gotten into today.
âShe just said some shit about soulmates being essential to survive. Yâknow, the usual mumbo jumbo.â You shrug, unwrapping the double cheeseburger and taking a bite.Â
âSounds about right to me.â Melody raises her hands in surrender once you glare at her. âBut hey, who am I to judge? Definitely not because I have a soulmate, and definitely not because heâs right next to me.â
âYouâre so right.â She rolls her eyes at your automatic reply, barely audible through the massive chunk of pickle in your mouth.Â
âI know your familyâs kinda complicated, but it doesnât have to affect your outlook on soulmates forever. Besides, arenât you moving to the city for your stepmom? Thatâs kinda progress.â Brenden volunteers his opinion, sipping away at his diet coke. âDonât you glare at me young lady, you know perfectly well why youâre going. You like her.âÂ
âAs if,â you scoff, forcing down the last bite of lettuce and crumpling the empty wrapper. Melody doesnât blink an eye at how fast youâve consumed the burger, already having seen it for at least 6 years.
âShe got you the signed copy of Black Beauty, remember?â Nico says quietly, tilting his head. âAnd besides, you havenât fought with her in a long while.âÂ
You bite back a retort, hating how right he is. Itâs been at least three months since youâd gotten in a fight with your stepmother - the longest duration so far. âLook, she can try to bribe me all she wants, but Iâm going to quickly get through school and move out so I can travel away from her.â
âMmhm. Youâd have a good chance, considering that you got into Business Relations at Ninjago University, soâŚâ Your friends go quiet at the mention, as if just realising that youâre leaving tomorrow morning.
âIâll be back for summer vacation anyway,â you casually state, finishing off the fries with a satisfied grin. âWith autographs from those ninjas youâre always raving about.â
âYou promise? Iâll cut off your pinkie finger if it doesnât come true. You know a pinky promise is legally binding.â Melody warns.Â
âI donât know how you put up with her.â Luke shrugs as you turn to him, amusement in his eyes as he glances at Melody whoâs still glaring at you.Â
âRiver time?â Brenden suggests, trying to lighten the mood. Melody nods, turning to face the kitchen staff behind the counter a short distance away.Â
âHilda, Iâm heading out!â She calls out, untying the apron and draping it on the seat as everyone leaves the booth.Â
âFuck off!â
âWill do!â Melody grins slyly, gesturing to the exit. âLetâs bounce before she realises I didnât clear the tables.â
âLove you too Hilda!â You shout back to the grumpy old lady with a fond smile, waving goodbye as you leave.Â
âRiver time! River time! River time!â You join in on their chanting, laughing without a care in the world - and ignoring the faint sounds of guitars and saxophones playing in the back of your mind.
â â â â âÂ
The truth of the matter is, picnics by the river are among the top few activities youâd willingly leave the house for. After having a few drinks and getting up to a couple of shenanigans, your friends dropped you off at your place with tearful goodbyes.
Nico had refused to let go of your arm, citing âwho would I hug when youâre gone?â as the reason why. He had let go after you promised to hug him all he wanted when you came back. It was also then that you vowed to never let him drink again.
After showering and emerging from the steam with a clearer (and significantly less tipsy) mind, you make your way to the comfort of your futon, avoiding stubbing your toe on the luggage near the door. The moving company had already taken most of your stuff, and all that you have to your name now is a singular suitcase, a sling bag, and your futon.Â
You wriggle under the blanket, staring up at the ceiling and feeling the tiredness finally hit you with full force as your eyelids slowly close. The warmth draws you to sleep, dreams calling your name and reckoning for you to come into their embrace.Â
Unfortunately, your soulmate doesnât like to sleep at 1 AM. Soft rock starts playing, and you press your face against the pillow to muffle your annoyed groan. You press the pillow on top of your face, wishing desperately for the music to stop, though you know itâd do nothing to help. Forcing your eyes shut and thinking of anything else to drown out the noise is the go-to method for you, and hopefully, itâll work this time as well.
Stupid jazz, stupid music.Â
Stupid soulmate.
â â â â âÂ
A quick Google search in the morning while you brush your teeth reveals a plethora of cafes in Ninjago City, all ready for you to explore. Accidentally clicking on a notification, however, brings you to a separate page where the headline of a news article practically screams at you.
âFamous Author to make an appearance at Ninjago Museum Fundraiser! All proceeds from the auction are to be donated to preserve local history.
The bestselling author who goes by her pen name of Hanla will be making an appearance at the Ninjago Museumâs Fundraiser occurring next week. Locally curated pieces of artwork and a book of poems written by Hamla herself will be auctioned off. Hamla has also stated that 100% of all proceeds made in her name will be going toward the local conservation of Ninjagoâs history. For all fans of her works - You, Me, and the Beat, Beauty and her Phone, and critically acclaimed bestseller Honey, Where Are My Pants?, be sure to stop by for an autographing session that Hamla will be attending! Our local heroes - the Ninja, will also be attending the session, so make sure to get your photos taken with them!â
 âAre you ready yet? We gotta leave in an hour, Munchkin.â Your father calls out from downstairs. You pause to spit out the toothpaste in your mouth, gargling the residue and letting the menthol sting your lips after rinsing.Â
âYeah, just gotta shower and Iâm good to go.â You reply loudly, turning your attention back to the mirror. A round, puffy face stares back at you, eyebags apparent after only managing to fall asleep at two in the morning.
You really should stop drinking so late at night. Luckily, a shower helps to reduce the puffiness in your face, and you step out of your room looking somewhat presentable in a lavender hoodie and shorts.Â
The gentle sunlight shining through the bare windows breathed life into the room and the curtains that once decorated the small window seat. Where your bed once sat was empty with the polished mahogany wood underneath.Â
Endless nights of laying in your plush bed with your bedside lamp's dim yet warm glow seemed so distant in your memories. Your hand lingers on the doorknob, mumbling a soft goodbye before shutting the door and heading downstairs to where your father is waiting.
âShall we?â He grins, placing the last of your luggage in the car boot. He closes it, offering a hand to you. You take it, allowing him to guide you to the front seat where the radio is already playing your favourite pop songs.Â
As he starts to drive, youâre momentarily distracted with taking the perfect picture for your Instagram story, singing along with your tone-deaf father whoâs belting out ABBA as he drives past the massive signboard signalling goodbye. You watch it pass, fields and clouds dotting the sky moving by steadily.
Itâd be a lie to say you wouldnât miss home. But this is a chance at a new beginning - maybe one that could change your life for the better. As faint jazz starts up in the back of your mind, you smile softly. Not even that could dampen your mood.
â â â â âÂ
You stir, eyes fluttering open at the annoying sound of drilling and construction. You blink a few times, sitting up from where you had slumped against the window while you slept. Your vision clears, and you move your hands away to see bright lights and skyscrapers galore around you.Â
You're here.Â
Ninjago City is filled to the brim with people and endless traffic. Your dad scowls at the long line of cars in front of him, glaring at the red light that seems to take forever to turn green. You fiddle with the games on your phone, focusing intently on beating the next level of Candy Crush.Â
You mumble a cuss when 'Game Over' appears on the colourful screen, and he immediately turns with a suspicious gaze. You smile nervously, trying to play it off as though you hadn't said anything.Â
Luckily, he turns back around, choosing to let it pass.Â
You stare out the window, watching the shops pass by in a blur until you spot one that catches your eye. âDad, could you drop me off here?â He doesn't question your sudden request, making a turn and parking next to the sidewalk.Â
You open the car door and exit, looking up at the sign on the storefront.Â
'Ninjago Doomsday Comix'
âEmilyâs already making dinner, so just meet us back at the new apartment.â He texts you the new address quickly, eyeing you suspiciously. âBe nice.â He warns, satisfied with the small nod you give in reply.Â
âYeah, just gonna take a look around the place, y'know, before I get lost tomorrow.â You joke. You adjust the straps of your small bag before settling it in a comfortable position on your back.Â
âSee you later then, munchkin. Call us if anything happens. Should be safe since those ninjas are around.â
Before you can question what he means, he drives off with all the rest of your luggage. You were lucky that your dad had visited the city multiple times on business trips and that he was primarily a hands-off parent.
âRight. Ninjas.â You mumble with a shake of your head, striding off toward the comic book store. The door swings open easily, a jingle catching you off guard. A man at the cashier counter greets you with a friendly grin that eases your nerves, and you walk up to him.Â
âHi, do you know where to find Starfarer comics?â
âWell, right here, of course!â You cringe at his response, realising how poorly worded your question was. It elicits a chuckle from the man in front of you.Â
âJust kidding. I'm Rufus, Rufus McAllister, or you can call me Mother Doomsday. You're a new face around these parts. What's your name?â
âI just moved here, so maybe that's why." You reply, clutching the straps of your bag with a small smile at the friendly man and throwing in your name as well as an afterthought.
âWell, welcome to Ninjago City! I hope the city treats you well. We got the ninja protecting us, so that's added security too.â
âRight,â You smile emotionlessly at him. Is everyone here such big fans of the Ninja? Sure, Melodyâs a fan, but not as much as bringing them up every chance she got. âGood to know.âÂ
Rufus pauses with his lips parted, seemingly processing your words. A relaxed grin slowly forms on his lips. He glances towards a specific aisle, seemingly contemplating.Â
âIt should be fine thenâŚ.â He mumbles. You're just lost in where this conversation had ended up.Â
âAisle Eight is where we keep the best-stocked Starfarer comics.â He gestures to the area he had been staring at earlier. You thank him with a brief nod, walking over.Â
The aisle is relatively empty, save for two other people. A blonde guy in a green hoodie is flipping through the latest issue of Starfarer with keen interest, engrossed in the colourful pages.
Next to him is another boy with slightly wavy and choppy black hair, the smooth and silky strands making you both envious and curious about his hair care routine. In contrast to his friend(you assumed), he regards you with a suspicious gaze.Â
Oh no. Heâs hot.
You find it odd, feeling mildly unsettled by the intense stare he gives you. It wasn't a good one; more on the wary side than interested. You brush it off, ignoring the pair and scouring the shelves for issue number three.
You finally find the comic you're looking for, but it's directly opposite the pair.Â
After all, what would you be if not cursed with horrid coincidence?
You practically tiptoe over, clearing your throat slightly as you grab the comic book and start reading. Green Hoodie(Greenie, you decide to nickname) looks up in surprise, only now noticing your presence. Mr. Grumpy Pants(The nickname suits him perfectly), on the other hand, doesn't bother hiding the grimace on his lips at your presence, looking away.
You stiffen, eyes shifting into a glare.
Rude.
Greenie hits his friend's shoulder in a light punch, looking at you with an expression of apology. âShe should be fine. Rufus wouldn't send anyone over here without vetting them first.â Greenie whispers to Mr. Grumpy Pants, referring to his earlier behaviour.
âYeah, but what if they'reâŚyou know? I don't want another repeat of what happened with Jay.â
Oh. Oh. I see now.
You almost drop the comic book in your hands, caught off guard by how attractive Mr Grumpy Pants' voice is. You tense, now more aware of their presence. Even though you don't want to eavesdrop, you can't help how your ears practically perk up, hoping to hear more of the deep voice from earlier.Â
Plus, they weren't doing a very good job of keeping their conversation a secret.
âI trust Rufus. He's a good friend.âÂ
â...Maybe.â
âIs thatâŚ? OMG! It's them!!â
You're interrupted from blankly staring at the same page for the past ten minutes, having focused on the conversation behind you, though the pair had stopped talking a while ago. You look up at the store's glass windows, startled by the sudden sight of a group of girls pressed against the glass, staring intently at the two boys behind you.Â
âFuck.â You watch all the colour drain from Greenie's face while Mr Grumpy Pants smacks his palm against his face, sliding it down and sighing heavily with an utterly defeated expression.Â
"Not againâŚ" You hear him mutter. âAnd watch your language,â He adds, elbowing Greenie who just sticks out his tongue. The girls grab their phones, snapping photos of them. You realise that you're probably in them, too, considering the lack of distance between you both.Â
"Girls, there's the door!!" The tallest and most commandeering of the group holds open the entrance to the comic book store, and they swarm towards it.
"Cole, run!!!" Greenie yells, taking off to the back door that Rufus quickly ushers them both through. You grab the issue of Starfarer that Greenie dropped on the floor in his hasty exit, watching the fabric of Cole's shirt almost get stuck in the doorway.
At least now you know his name.Â
You place both the comics back on the shelf, leaving with a quick wave to Rufus, who nods goodbye. You pull out your phone, look up directions to the apartment and slowly make your way there. You grab your earbuds, put them both in your ears and start your playlist from the beginning.
You're next to an alleyway, just steps away from a ramen store, when your arm is grabbed and pulled into an alleyway next to you. A yelp rips free from your chest, losing your balance and almost falling.Â
A strong and warm arm holds yours firmly, pressing you against the cold brick wall. Your eyes automatically squeeze shut when your back hits the wall with a grunt, opening your eyes to see Mr. Grumpy Pants from earlier.Â
What the everloving fuck-
His hand is pressed firmly against your mouth, and your hands curl into fists, summoning all the strength in your body to land a solid punch on his chest. He yelps, pressing his lips tightly together to silence himself. He glares at you, and you return it just as angrily. Your fingers close into fists, readying yourself for another punch, aiming for his jaw next.
He shushes you, and you only just notice his pinched brows and the shine of sweat on his forehead. He had tugged you behind a wall that separated into a small alcove, out of sight from the sidewalk you were on earlier.
"Turn that nauseating song off." Cole winces, muttering through clenched teeth. Your hands slow to a stop, confused by his words. He grabs your phone out of your hands, pressing pause on your beloved playlist before you can protest.
Your eyes widen in shock, staring up at his stupidly handsome face. His dark brown eyes are filled with the fear of being caught, and you catch yourself admiring the shaggy black hair that frames his face in the most annoyingly perfect manner.
Your mind races with incoherent thoughts, but one sticks out like a sore thumb.
Your soulmate's a celebrity?Â
For a celebrity, his music taste sucks ass.
"Am I getting kidnapped right now?" You voice out the most pressing concern on your mind, though it comes out muffled. He turns back to face you with an incredulous expression.
"You don't know who I am?" His voice is hushed, waiting for the horde of fangirls to run past your hiding spot. Your eyes narrow, pushing his hand off of where it's placed on your shoulders. You try to ignore the tingle his touch leaves behind that spreads to your hands and how his choppy bangs somehow manage to fall over his eyes in a somewhat attractive manner when he turns to face you.Â
"In the past twenty minutes, you've glared at me, been rude, and practically held me hostage," You snap at him, irritated by the lack of common human decency he seems to display. "And what do you mean nauseating? If anything, you're the one giving me headaches with that god-awful noise you call music that you play daily! I mean, who wakes up at 4 AM?? Only a psychopath, apparently."
You finish your mini rant, having reached the end of your already thinning patience with the boy in front of you. You pant slightly, trying your best to reign in your temper.Â
"Noise? Noise?? I could say the same for you! You're disturbing my sleep at night with those ear-splitting synths and breathy singing that sounds like they're on the verge of hyperventilation!" Cole retorts with thinly veiled disgust, taking a step back, dusting off his hands, and wiping them on his pants.Â
You eye the action, feeling insulted. Both of you stand in the alleyway, silently glaring at each other. Cole breaks the stare first, scanning the area behind him once he realises the fangirls are gone. You grin, elated at the quiet victory.Â
âYou really gotta get more variety.â Your smile drops as soon as the words leave Cole's lips, and yours press into a thin line.Â
âSpeak for yourself.â You can barely hold back another biting remark. If anyone were to see you now, they'd mistake you as enemies rather than the soulmates that you are.
He groans, rolling his eyes. You're tempted to ask what he does for a living but choose to stay silent. You shake your head, still in disbelief that you've found your soulmate. âOut of all peopleâŚâ You mutter under your breath with a scowl.Â
âI could say the same. I donât know how someone like you ended up as my soulmate.â He retorts, seemingly having overheard.Â
âIâm glad we share the same view then. At least thatâs one thing we can agree on. Now, letâs make a deal. You go right, and I go left and we never run into each other again. Deal?â You propose, holding out your hand for a handshake. He eyes it for a solid moment, mulling over his decision. Instead of shaking your hand, however, he merely nods, crossing his hands over his chest. Your eyes narrow.
How insufferable.
âLooks like theyâre gone.â He takes a moment to glance out of the alleyway, starting in the direction opposite and leaving you to your own devices. You continue to glare at his retreating figure, driving home your irritation by placing your earbuds back into your ears and hitting play.
Immediately, Cole's songs start playing in the back of your mind, much louder than before. You let out an irritated groan, turning to glare at his broad back. Curse his well-chiselled body and toned arms.Â
Stupid soulmate.
â â â â âÂ
âSo, how was your first day in town?â Your stepmother, Emily, sits down opposite you, taking out one of the hair clips she used to keep the bangs out of her face. Her hair is messy, tied into a ponytail and her skirt is stained with spaghetti sauce.Â
âDecent. Went to a comic book place.â You say through a mouthful. Your response is short, but itâs more than what used to be quiet dinners around a tension-filled dining table in the past.Â
âThatâs good. Doomsday Comix, I assume?â She doesnât flinch from your wide-eyed gaze, caught off guard by how eerily accurate her guess is. âI used to work there when I was younger. I hope you found the comics you were looking for. Starfarer, right?â
âRight,â You reply unsurely, spooning another bunch of pasta into your mouth. You forget that Emily had been born and raised in Ninjago, only having met your dad during one of her trips for âinspirationâ. You and she had a rocky relationship, but one could say that youâre currently making progress - you think.
âDid you meet the ninja?â Your dad asks, taking some sliced-up steak on his plate and placing it on Emilyâs. You eye the way she lights up at the action, a nauseating feeling beginning to stir in the bottom of your stomach. âI hope if you got in trouble, they got you out of it.â
âOh yeah? Whatâre the ninja gonna do, spin me around till I get a headache?â You snort, chewing on an irritating broccoli stem that refuses to get chowed down on. âMystify me to pieces? Bore me to death?âÂ
The sarcastic jabs donât phase your dad in the slightest. He shrugs, used to your disbelieving comments. âJust be careful out there still, okay? I know Ninjago City is safe but there are still pickpockets around and petty crimes.âÂ
âWhich is exactly why I called in a favour from an old friend.â Emily smiles softly at your father, but it fades slightly when she looks at you, uncertainty in her gaze. âHeâs an instructor, and Iâve asked him to teach you self-defence so you can at least protect yourself.â
Your hand slows to a halt, the singular piece of spaghetti dangling off your fork as you blink owlishly at her. âI never asked for your help.â The words slip out before you can stop yourself, hurt flitting across Emilyâs face before she composes herself, clearing her throat and picking up a piece of broccoli.
Aaand thatâs a streak of 3 and a half months without being mean, gone.
âI just thought that maybe you should stay safe. Besides that,â You can sense the carefulness in her words, trying to choose the right ones to say. âI have an event coming up that Iâd like you to attend. Itâs a fundraiser, and I would like you to be there.â She pauses for a moment, looking from your father to you. âBoth of you.â
âNo thanks,â The clang of the metal fork against the porcelain plate makes her wince slightly at the harsh sound. You stand up with your half-empty plate, appetite vanishing just as quickly as a passing breeze. âIâm gonna head out. School stuff to catch up on and all.â You spot your father starting to stand up with a frown, only to stop when she places her hand on his arm and shakes her head sadly.Â
You ignore it.
Besides, you have a best friend to call.
â â â â âÂ
âI think I met my soulmate today.â You instinctively pull the phone away from your ear just as she starts screaming.Â
âWhat? Where?? When?? How????? WHO???â
âComic book store, today,â you reply, playing with a strand of your hair to distract yourself.Â
âComic book store? Oh no, heâs a nerd.â The mock horror in her voice makes you suppress a defeated groan, picturing exactly how wide her smug grin is. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to inhale slowly. Damn. She remembers.Â
When you were younger, you had made a bet with Melody as to what kind of person your soulmate would be. Being the naive child you were, you had bet on him being a superstar.Â
Melody, on the other hand, had bet that you'd end up with someone the complete opposite of you. A secret nerd.Â
Even at the tender age of 15, she had already read countless romantic books filled with cliche tropes. Right now though, this knowledge is absolutely terrifying to you. You hear a sigh of satisfaction over the phone, lips curling into a frown. âIâm not going to do it.â
âYou have to! We pinky promised. Plus, Toddâs back home and if you donât want me to tell him about-âÂ
âIâll do it,â you groan, cutting her off from the effective threat. âThe First Spinjitzu Master sent you down for just one reason and that was to make my life even worse.â
âWait.â Melody says, âWhat happened to your whole spiel about âoh I hate soulmates and I never want to have one, bleh bleh blehâ ?â
âFirst of all, that is not how I sound. Is that really how I sound to you??â You gasp. Maybe your whole stance against soulmates was getting a bit too much, even for Melody. âBesides, itâs nothing new. His stupid jazz started a couple of months back or something.â You grumble, deciding to collapse on your bed instead of pacing your room.
âAnd you didnât tell me??â She says incredulously, her voice raised. You can hear a faint âWhat didnât she tell you?â in the background, recognising the voice as her brotherâs.Â
âNothing!â She shouts back at him, âI expect details. Right fucking now.â
âItâs not much,â You sigh, looking up at your ceiling and letting your phone rest beside your head, her voice filling the quiet room through the speakerphone. âIt came outta nowhere and honestly? If nothing happened, no way am I about to fly across the world just to see him. I have school. And homework.â
âYouâve never handed in a single piece of homework on time.â Her voice has a hint of accusation.Â
âWhat can I say? Moving gives you a whole new perspective on self-reflection.â You shrug nonchalantly, though you know she canât see it.Â
âWhatâs his music taste?â
âSmooth jazz and soft rock.â You groan at her awws on the other end, âYeah, letâs see if you still find that cute when youâre trying to sleep and he decides to blast music at 4 AM.â
âAn early riser. Maybe he works out?â Melodyâs wistful voice doesnât go unnoticed.Â
âI sense dissatisfaction with your current soulmate.â Your snarky reply makes her chuckle.Â
âYou wish. Lukeâs gonna start going to the gym 'cause I said I liked his biceps last week.â She says with amusement, âRight, I have a date tomorrow. Should I wear the pink blouse or blue?â
âBlue.â
âPink it is.âÂ
âWhy do you even bother asking me?â You say blankly, grinning when she barks out a laugh. âHave fun on your date.â
âRemember to get autographs!â
âI wonât if you donât shut up and get to bed.â The call instantly concludes with a monotonous dial tone after you hang up, placing your phone on your table with a grin. You open your laptop with a new sense of purpose, searching for articles on the ninja. Your unfulfilled promise haunts you, knowing full well that although most of your friends thought it was a joke, Melody would be intent on at least fracturing your pinky finger if you didnât get their autographs.
A sudden knock on the door startles you and your hands quickly close the laptop instinctively. The door slowly creaks open, and your dad steps inside. You turn away, pretending to busy yourself with tidying your desk with minimal clutter. âIs this about dinner?â
âWell,â you hear him hesitate. âKind of. Look, itâd mean a lot to her if you went, yâknow. Besides, the self-defence instructor we asked to teach you has already accepted.â
âCanât you get a refund?â You finally turn to face him, lips parted to say more until you scan his face. Sunken cheeks and eyes filled with sadness stare back at you, hoping that maybe, just maybe, youâd be more open towards his wife. Towards her.Â
And just like that, your temper which had slowly begun to bubble up again at the mention of your stepmom dies down, left with nothing but wisps of resentment. You swallow down the lump in your throat, unable to meet his gaze.Â
âFine. Tell Hamla that Iâll go to her charity fundraiser, whatever.âÂ
He breathes a sigh of relief, while you focus on your fingers already picking away at the skin on your thumb. Tiny flecks of peeled skin land on the floor, invisible in the lack of light. The skin is red and raw underneath, but you canât feel the pain, focusing instead on the repetitiveness of the action.
âThank you, munchkin.âÂ
The door closes without any further conversation, and the weight on your chest suddenly lifts. Itâs still there, but significantly less than before. You close your eyes, hands curling into fists as you breathe out slowly but shakily. Itâs fine. Everythingâs fine.
You open the laptop back up, allowing the bright screen to distract you from any further thoughts. The picture of the ninja fills your screen, one in a black gi catching your eyes. What was he again? The Earth Ninja?Â
Glancing at the closet, you mentally flit through your outfit options for the fundraiser. A thought nags away at your brain, as if on the edge of remembering one very important fact. You pull up the article from this morning, rereading it once more as it hits you, looking from the article to the picture a few times before your lips pull up in a slow smile.
Looks like youâd get their autographs sooner than you thought.
#ninjago#lego ninjago#cole brookestone#cole brookstone x reader#cole x reader#ninjago x reader#cole ninjago#lego ninjago x reader
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haechan â if i believe you Â
haechan x fem!reader 10.6k, angst & fluff, fake dating to real a/n: thank you all for waiting...this is the longest thing i've ever written :) i really hope that you can enjoy this and the emotions and everything are immersive and not too annoying with the miscommunication/repression i hope. these two are my favorite ever, quiet haechan is my favorite ever and i would love to revisit them maybe in a later fic. anyway, let me know if you like this!! thank you for reading <3 itâs a little difficult to be around your friend group when theyâre all like this.
itâs a little past midnight, and you donât know how it happened but the room has been split into happy pairs, all in their own world. movie on the tv forgotten, jaemin has his arm slung around a girl as they whisper to each other on the floor next to the couch, which is taken up by jeno â currently very endearingly laughing at something his girlfriend said. renjun was arguing with his girlfriend, but you know that neither of them truly meant it. you donât know how it happened, but it seemed that this year, the trip to jaeminâs beach house had turned into a triple date for which you were seriously 7th wheeling. the sight makes your heart hurt a little, because you suddenly feel so crushingly lonely.Â
âstill here?âÂ
you almost forgot that haechan was here too. almost.Â
sliding in to sit next to you on the kitchen island, he was dressed cozily for bed: his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, smelling slightly of toothpaste and fabric softener. you didnât actually talk to haechan that much, you were always closer with jaemin in the friend group, but sometimes when eating together heâd catch your eye after a particularly terrible joke, or you would raise your eyebrows at him for something questionable said. you had almost developed an entirely non-verbal form of communication in that way, the two of you sharing your humor, and yet you didnât actually know a whole lot about each other. a part of you thinks that you know a different haechan from everyone else, because in all the looks you pass each other and the comfortable silence you share, the haechan you know is quiet and sensitive, with a world of kindness in him that made you feel calm. and although you know he can be obnoxious and loud, his laughter echoing down corridors and smile brighter than the sun, you much preferred the haechan you knew.Â
you also thought he was the prettiest boy youâd seen in a long while â something casual about the way he would smile, or wink at people, and his habit of poking his tongue in his cheekâŚbut you werenât going to tell him that.Â
âyeah, still here.â you exhale. âwhen did you make your escape?âÂ
âabout 30 minutes ago.â he smiled fondly at the happy couples in the room. âitâs a bit funny how the room just rearranged itself. i couldâve sworn jaemin was beside me at the dinner table the entire night but somewhere along the way he dematerialised and reappeared next to the sofa.âÂ
âlove can do that to a person.â you rolled your eyes, before pausing to consider that maybe haechan was not quite in the same predicament as you. âhey, speaking of, why didnât you bring your girlfriend?âÂ
because you were sure that haechan had a girlfriend, who he would sometimes leave gatherings early to see. you vaguely remembered renjun complaining about how he always had to walk her to class, never showing up to gatherings anymore because of some surprise or another.Â
haechan blinks at you. âdonât have one anymore. we broke up quite a few months ago.â at the guilt-striken look on your face, he shakes his head to reassure you.Â
âiâm over it,â he says softly. âdonât worry about me, okay?â
you canât imagine anyone breaking up with haechan â haechan who was so gentle. with his radiant smile and his arms full of flowers whenever he surprised her. haechan who walked her to her classes.Â
âiâm sorry to hear that. you deserved better iâm sure.âÂ
he smiles, and it looks kind of shy. âif you say so.âÂ
âhey y/n-â you look up at jaeminâs voice, and realize that somehow, the room had emptied out while you were talking to haechan. the only person left was jaemin, who had just finished clearing the bottles and snack wrappers. âweâre going to bed, iâm going to turn out the lights now.âÂ
âokay, thanks jaem.âÂ
he made to leave, but stopped abruptly. â y/n, remember-â jaemin looked at you sternly, one hand on the light switch, one pointed at you.Â
ârepeat after me: do not trust how you feel about your entire life past 9pm.â a pause, as he glances at the clock on the wall. âor 1am, for that matter.âÂ
you laugh. âthanks jaem.âÂ
ârepeat itâ, he insists.Â
âdo not trust how i feel about my life past 1am.âÂ
âgood.â jaemin nods in acknowledgement to haechan, flicks the light switch, and just like that, haechan and you sit alone at the kitchen island, illuminated by the moonlight through the glass doors.
suddenly, it is so quiet you feel like you want to sit in the moment forever.Â
you look over at him, and haechan raises his eyebrows. it is a look you know well. care to explain?
âsometimes i get really emotional at nightâ, you explain. âtend to overthink. jaemin knows that because iâm always calling him talking about one thing or the other.â thinking about how embarrassing it would be if you started oversharing, you quickly promise, âbut iâm working on it, donât worry. i wonât do that to you.âÂ
haechan smiles. âi donât mind.â he blinks at you and supports his chin with his hands. âwe have all night. tell me whatâs on your mind right now.âÂ
âreally?â you look skeptical. once again, you and haechan havenât really talked that much at all. you think this is maybe the longest conversation youâve had with him, with so many words.Â
âitâs okay if you donât want to. but iâm just saying, i wouldnât mind.â he smiles, and it warms your heart.Â
asking you softly if you would like something to drink, he gets up to make hot chocolate for the two of you. and youâre sitting there, not even trying, but suddenly the moonlight and the soft sounds of haechan padding around the kitchen are setting off a feeling of butterflies making their way to your throat from your stomach. there are shivers running up and down your spine because there is something tender and fragile in this moment that you canât pinpoint, and a deep feeling begins to crawl its way, spreading through your toes and fingertips. all you know is itâs the feeling you get before youâre about to spill your heart out to someone.Â
âhaechan?âÂ
he hums, and the sound could break your heart.Â
âdo you ever feel lonely sometimes?âÂ
you hear the smile in his voice without having to turn around to look at him â its the one that starts at the corners and spreads slowly across his face. âso this is what keeps you up at night.âÂ
âiâm serious, haechan.â running your hands through your hair, you are aware that you are beginning to sound like a rom-com protagonist, but you donât care.Â
âsorry.â you hear the clink of teaspoons against cups as he stirs the hot chocolate. âi mean, i guess i do feel a little lonely sometimes. but itâs notâŚan all-consuming thought.â a pause. âi guess it is, for you though, isnât it?âÂ
you hesitate, before nodding because fuck it, this has been on your mind for way too long and jaemin was rarely helpful. always with his arm slung over another girl, you had a hard time getting jaemin to admit he got lonely sometimes.Â
choosing your words carefully, you continue your spiel. âitâs justâŚitâs insane to me how we are told that life is so romantic, that there are so many wonderful moments in love we can look forward to, but none of that is happening to me and it doesnât seem like it will be happening any time soon.âÂ
haechan comes over to you, and passes you a mug of hot chocolate. soothingly, he places a hand on yours where it rests on the counter. âyou have to wait y/n. i promise, one day youâll find someone who loves you, and all the things youâre dreaming about will happen.âÂ
âyou canât know that for sure,â you press. âi mean, when will someone write a love letter to me? will we kiss in the rain in the park? will they run to see me at a new yearâs eve party?âÂ
âwoah woah woah, slow down.â he nudges your mug with his, indicating that you should drink, so you take a sip of chocolate: itâs rich and warm.Â
âiâm sorry. itâs just over the years things just keep getting added to this list of love, and now that i look at it it just seems ever the more impossible.âÂ
âlove isnât defined by actions and experiences,â haechan muses.Â
âbut i want to experience these things,â you say, feeling a little shy at how raw this conversation was getting. Â
haechan smiles at that, at the yearning hidden in your small voice. the two of you sit for a while, nursing your cups of chocolate, lost in your own thoughts. enjoying the warmth of his hand on yours, you look at the glimmering countertop and choose not to say anything so he doesnât move his hand away.Â
and suddenly, out of the blue, haechan asks you a question.Â
âjust out of curiosity, what are some things on your list?âÂ
feeling a little embarrassed, because really â sharing your romantic fantasies with someone was beyond intimate, you mumble, âjust simple things. going to the aquarium. being a couple at the amusement park, on the ferris wheel. watching fireworks together. cuddling while watching movies in my bedroom.âÂ
haechan thinks about it for a moment. you can almost see the wheels turning in his head. you sit in silence for so long, youâre about to ask him what heâs thinking about, or tell him itâs not that serious, when he speaks up.
âiâll do them with you.âÂ
you almost choke. âiâm sorry?âÂ
âiâll help you complete your list.â he looks at you, as if itâs a completely normal thing heâs just said.Â
âbutâŚbut i meanâŚâ you blink confusedly. you were supposed to do those things with a boyfriend or someone you loved, not just as friends. that would defeat the whole purpose.Â
reading your mind, haechan added âitâll just be like fake dating. iâll pretend to be your boyfriend so you can experience all that you want to.âÂ
youâre beginning to see a little bit of the haechan that you donât usually get to see, as he grins at you and thereâs suddenly something sharp to the smile you always found gentle. âthe full, personalised, boyfriend experience. just so you can have a go.âÂ
you laugh, but thatâs just a cover for all the questions running through your head. âi-i donât know,â you stammer. âdoes it even count if itâs fake?âÂ
âyouâre the one making the rules.â tilting his head to the side, his eyes glimmer almost teasingly.Â
âbut what are you suggesting? what do you have in mind?âÂ
âwellâŚâ haechan hums as he thinks about it. âi could do everything with you on the list, as your fake boyfriend. in the timeframe that weâre going about carrying out this activity iâll be fully and completely your boyfriend, yours to hug and kiss and hold hands with, until itâs over. then we can go back to beingâŚâ he smiles at you, hesitantly. âfriends? does that work?âÂ
this haechan makes your palms sweaty, and makes your breath catch. this haechan makes you feel jumpy, and nervous, and impulsive. you think youâd do anything he asked in that moment.Â
âokay.â you say slowly, and he smiles wide. âwait no.â you hesitate. âwait, fuck it, yes. letâs do it.âÂ
he laughs. âare you sure?âÂ
âwait.â his body heat is radiating off his skin as all his attention is focused on you. lips still pressed into a smile, his eyes bright and far too mesmerizing in the dim moonlight. and you canât help but wonder then, âwhat if we catch feelings?âÂ
tilting his head to the side in consideration, he leans in close, one arm reaching out to cage you in. the two of you are nose to nose. you can count his every eyelash, see the constellation of moles scattered across his face and neck. his breath so close to your own, that your eyes canât help but flutter shut.
âthen thatâs the best part.â he whispers.
xÂ
you try not to think about how you felt when haechan leaned in, or the way the circles he traced into the back of your hand were still burning. you couldnât help looking for the smell of his perfume on your clothes.
youâre way too easy, y/n. this is only the first real conversation youâve had with him.Â
youâre about to turn off the lights and call it a night, hoping to some power above that youâre able to reign in your emotions come morning, when thereâs a light tap at your door.Â
ây/n? are you there?âÂ
itâs him. you spend about 5 seconds debating whether or not to pretend youâve already fallen asleep, but curiosity eventually wins you over. crossing over to the door, you place a hand on the doorknob.Â
âhaechan?âÂ
you can hear him shift from behind the door, pushing it so it keeps shut. ây/n, wait, donât open the door. i just want to tell you something.âÂ
slowly, you remove your hand from the doorknob and the latch clicks back, shut.
 âokayâŚâÂ
heâs breathing softly, and in the quiet you can hear it as if he were in the room with you. ây/n, iâm sorry i sprung the idea on you just now. you can forget i said anything if it made you uncomfortable.â he shifts his weight from foot to foot, nervously. âespecially the part about catching feelings.âÂ
âitâs fine,â you say softly, but thereâs a little disappointment stinging at you. does he regret it?Â
âbut also, if youâd like, i would really love to do all those things with you,â the words come out in a rush, as if heâs trying to be brave. âas fake lovers. without feelings attached.âÂ
you donât know what to say, and you can tell that for each second you stay silent, haechan is growing less and less confident behind the door. you run things through in your head quickly. this plan meant that you were able to jump headlong into romantic experiences youâve dreamt of for what felt like your whole life, without the potential of them being ruined by a bad date, or waiting for years more to find the right one. and most of all, you trusted haechan with this.
haechan is leaning against the opposite wall, looking at the floorboards, but his head shoots up when you open the door.Â
taking a deep breath, you look him in the eyes. âletâs do it.âÂ
âreally?â shocked, he reaches for you â maybe to wrap you in his arms for a hug, but drops them, remembering what he had said about making you feel uncomfortable. putting his hands behind his back to resist the urge to swing you into the air, his expression of surprise melts into a huge smile. one that makes you laugh.Â
âyouâre more excited about this than me,â you tease, and because you just canât help it, you step forward and give him a quick hug. âthanks for doing this with me.âÂ
instantly, his arms loop around your waist, squeezing tightly. âthank you for trusting me.âÂ
the butterflies in your stomach, however, tell you that you were maybe being a bit too trusting. without feelings attached. because would that really be possible with him, whoâs currently making your heart race and your breath catch?Â
x
it was a week since the beach house. and while the opening of summer felt optimistic and hopeful, now everyone had to wander back to their lives and figure out exactly what they were going to do for the next three months. jeno and renjun had an ongoing bet that jaemin would be fired from his summer job within the week. and jaemin had a bet with you that jeno and renjun wouldnât find themselves a job that entire summer.
but you knew exactly what you were going to do for the season. and it all started with getting in the passenger seat of haechanâs car as he took you to a waffles place for breakfast.Â
âhey.âÂ
âhi.â he flashes a quick smile at you. âyou look nice today.âÂ
âreally?â you adjust the collar of your shirt self-consciously, checking on your hair through the rearview mirror.Â
âno, i lied.â he laughs, and the sound is all too fitting for the morning sunshine that flits in through the windows. âyes, i mean it. i like your shirt.â
âmy shirt?âÂ
âjust take the compliment.âÂ
you canât help a smile of your own. âokay. i will.â
for a while, he drives in silence. itâs a peaceful sense of calm that you think youâll come to enjoy. thereâs a lot of comfort in just sitting next to haechan, watching his hands move on the wheel, his careful eyes scanning the road.
âso, y/n, i took a look at your list,â he starts.Â
you had texted him a small list of the things you were thinking about doing. the classic dinner and a movie. going to the amusement park. sharing a kiss while watching fireworks.Â
feeling a little shy all of a sudden in his car, you nod. âis it a bit much?â
ânot at all,â he says quickly. âi was just wondering how youâve never done some of those things before. i wouldâve thought going to the amusement park was entry level honeymoon phase stuff.âÂ
you nod approvingly. âitâs sweet that you think so.âÂ
âdidnât you use to have a boyfriend?âÂ
âi did,â you muse. âi dated mark a while ago.âÂ
âour senior?âÂ
âyeah.â looking out the window at the cars passing by, you think back to your time with mark. âhe was always nice to me. but we never really went out and did things. we broke up because i was someone who loved romance, and he wasnât.âÂ
 âi see.â haechan hesitates. there was something about the way you talked about mark that unsettled him, but he couldnât pinpoint what it was. âdo you think you could get back together with him?âÂ
âtrying to pass me off onto someone else already?â you donât pick up on the shift in haechanâs tone, and mistake it for genuine curiosity. âi guess i could. maybe after these years apart he wants something romantic too.âÂ
although the morning was warm, haechan felt a sense of cold sweep through him. he tries to brush it off. âwell, thank your lucky stars you have me nowâÂ
looking over at him, his hair falling slightly over his eyes, the troubled crease of his brow, your thoughts of mark immediately clear. âthank you,â you say, a little too emotionally for the early morning and this car ride.Â
he looks over at you, and his chest eases up at the warmth in your eyes. âdonât mention it,â he says, and smiling at you is the easiest thing in the world.
x
the line for popcorn at the movies had stopped moving. fidgeting from the cold of the cinema, you wrap your arms around yourself as haechan stands by you, scrolling on his phone for a deal that he saw for a discounted drink combo. one arm slung casually over your shoulders, you lean into his touch just a little.Â
today he was helping you out by taking you for a date. specifically, the classic dinner and a movie idea that has been long since rendered obsolete, but you had never had a chance to do. standing in line, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, you recall how he had showed up 5 minutes early outside your apartment, holding a small bouquet of flowers, and doing the thing where he flicked his fingers to splay out the two movie tickets he had ordered early on. the two of you had dinner at a nice italian restaurant, and he had offered to pay but you insisted, since you were technically making him do all of this.Â
âare you cold?â drawing you out of your thoughts, you turn to see haechan, concern causing his eyebrows to furrow and his heart-shaped lips to form a slight pout. âwhy didnât you bring a jacket? you knew we were going to watch a movie.âÂ
the line moves forward by a fraction of an inch, and you take a step forward, haechan now standing slightly behind you. âi completely forgot,â you whined. âi just havenât watched a movie at the cinema in a while.âÂ
haechan bites back a smile, and slots his phone into his back pocket. the arm that is slung over your shoulder drops to your waist, while his other comes to circle around you from behind, and before you know it heâs pressed up against your back. you can feel the heat of his skin even with the thick hoodie heâs wearing over. dropping his head onto your shoulder, you feel him smile against your neck. âthere,â he whispers. ânow you wonât be cold anymore.âÂ
trying to steady your nerves, you stare resolutely ahead. âcouldnât have just given me your jacket like a normal person?âÂ
he shakes his head cutely, his soft hair tickling your jaw. ânope.âÂ
you make sure your voice stays resolutely calm. âthen what will we do during the movie? youâll be sitting next to me.âÂ
the line moves forward and haechan straightens, but his arms never leave your side. âguess youâll have to hold on tight.â
and so you do. he ends up draping the hoodie over you during the movie, and he clings onto your arm, head resting on your shoulder. you hold on after the movie when he drops you off at home, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself getting out of his car.
you hold on when he takes you for the next date at the amusement park; and when he tilts your chin upwards to press a kiss at the corner of your lips, your top-of-the-ferris-wheel moment, you squeeze his hands in yours and move so your lips slot against his. you tell him with your smile that itâs alright.Â
you hold on to him through your dates to the local aquarium, and to the beach. you let him pull you close as he drags you around the mall window-shopping, and as he guides you through clubs and restaurants.Â
and if some part of you gets scared that it might be getting too real, if some part of you feels a little hurt whenever he brings up the list or when he removes your hand from his, you ignore it as best you can.Â
x
âthanks for inviting me to this event,â you whisper, as you step into the doorway of the mansion, which really looks like a castle from the level of grandeur that meets your eyes. a man steps forward to take your coat, and you feel giddy.Â
ânah, sorry for stealing you away on some random summer night.â haechan smiles, and you feel a tug in your heart. in his suit, he looks like he belongs here with all this finery, the slopes of his shoulders and the slight cinch of the waist looking elegant under the chandeliers, the rings scattered on his hands catching the light in pretty ways. âbesides, itâs all part of the experience, isnât it?âÂ
right. kissing and fireworks. trying to disguise the squeezing feeling in your chest, you smile back. âwhy do you keep bringing that up?âÂ
âdo you not want me to?â thereâs something careful about the way he looks at you.Â
âi donât.â you say, quietly.Â
âthen i wonât.â he extends an arm for you to take. âtonight youâll just be my date.â and with your heart thundering up your throat, he steers you into the warmth of the room.
you spend most of the night in the same giddy spiral of emotions, as he twirls you on the dance floor expertly, and winces dramatically when you step on his toes. your hands never leave each othersâ grasps, as you stand around tables eating finger-food and drinking champagne. as the party went on, he introduced you through holding up your clasped palms to each of his parentâs friends, earning a lot of cooing and fussing about.Â
âhaechan, how well youâve grown up!âÂ
âis this your girlfriend? haechan is so lucky to be with such a beautiful girl like you.âÂ
âhaechan! come say hello to the kids, they miss you!âÂ
âthis wonât take long,â he mumbles sadly to you, as an aunt of his insists he meet his cousins upstairs. âiâll meet you at the bar, okay?âÂ
âokay,â you smile, inwardly dying at the idea of haechan interacting with kids. as if he couldnât get infinitely cuter. âhave fun!âÂ
âdonât let someone steal my date away,â he warns, as heâs pulled away. âi mean it â youâre mine tonight.âÂ
youâre mine. you feel like youâre floating on a cloud as you make your way to the bar, youâre sure youâre at least swaying on your feet.Â
âwoah.â a hand reaches out to steady you, helping you settle into a seat. âtoo much champagne?âÂ
you gape at the man whoâs sitting next to you now. âmark?âÂ
fidgeting with the collar of his suit and looking very uncomfortable, he nods in greeting. âdidnât know you were coming to this thing.âÂ
you look at him. he had gotten a haircut recently. but besides that in terms of appearance, he looked just as he did when the two of you were together, except for the fact that something about his demeanor was off. he looked tired, and there was something weary about his posture that hadnât been there before.Â
âi was invited,â you tell him. âhow are you here?âÂ
âone of the ladies there is my aunt.â he pauses. âyouâve never met her. are you enjoying yourself?â
you think back to haechanâs smile as he sways underneath the lights, holding your hips. before you know it, youâre smiling too. âitâs a nice night. this place is really beautiful.âÂ
mark studies you for a moment. âhow have you been?âÂ
âiâve been alright.â you figure since there arenât any hard feelings, you donât have to make anything up as you would for an ex you were bitter over. mark was still a nice person, and he had been good to you in the right ways.Â
âitâs summer, so iâve been going out more i guess. how about you?â
âiâve been alright.â he downs his glass of white wine and signals for another one in a fluid motion, and you raise your eyebrows. shaking his head, he changes his answer.Â
âokay, things could be better.âÂ
âwhy?âÂ
âjust been feeling a little lonely.âÂ
you are so taken aback, that you let out a laugh. he looks at you, affronted, and somehow the furrow of his eyebrows makes you laugh even harder.Â
âiâm sorry,â you calm yourself down. âi wasnât laughing at you, not really. itâs justâŚâ you take a sip of your own drink. âi was in the exact same situation say a few months ago.â at his bewildered expression, you gesture. âplease continue, though.â
mark shrugs and goes along with it. âi guess i was just realizing that i wasnât as happy as i could be. there were times where i would be â i donât know, having dinner, and iâd just think âdamn. really wish i had someone with me right now.â you know?âÂ
âi do know.â you nod. âitâs crazy weâre experiencing the same thing, after, you know, so many years.âÂ
âyeah.â he looks at you carefully. âcrazy.âÂ
âhey baby.âÂ
a hand slides possessively around your waist, and you jump. the next thing you know, a pair of lips are kissing their way down your neck, as another hand snakes its way around you until you are fully in their embrace. craning your head up, you already know who youâre going to see.
âhi haechan,â you say breathlessly.Â
âsorry for leaving you for so long,â he murmurs, intermittently, as he continues to plant wet kisses on your neck. âthe kids were going crazy.âÂ
feeling like you were about to burn up into a crumble of ashes, you splutter out, âwe have company.âÂ
pulling away from you, haechan turns and stares at mark, coldly. âsorry, i didnât notice.â his hand still draped over you, you can almost hear the forced normalcy in his voice when he asks, âand you areâŚ?âÂ
âmark,â mark supplies, awkwardly fidgeting with the coaster under his glass.Â
looking up at him, you see a flash of something race through haechanâs eyes, as he tightens his hold on you. âmark. well, hello, and goodbye.âÂ
he pulls you to your feet, and you set down your drink hurriedly and latch onto his arm. âsay goodbye to mark, sweetheart.âÂ
âbye mark. things will get better, iâm sure of it,â you say, still left breathless by the turn of events.Â
raising his eyebrows, he turns back to the bar. âsee you around y/n.âÂ
âi donât think so,â haechan chirps brightly, before tugging you away and past the throes of people, down a narrow hallway that was deserted.Â
âhaechan, what are you doing?âÂ
even in the dim lit of the hall, you can see his glower. âwhat were you talking to mark about?âÂ
âi donât knowâŚâ you shake your head, still a bit lost. âjust about life, i guess.âÂ
âdid he ask to get back together with you?â he blurts out, suddenly.Â
âwhat? no!â you splutter.Â
âi heard him say he was lonely. who the fuck says that to their ex unless they want to get back together?âÂ
you take the hard look in his eyes. hesitantly, you call out. âhaechan?âÂ
he huffs.Â
âhe didnât want to get back together, i promise.â he looks at you, warily. âand even if he did, i wouldnât want to get back together with him.âÂ
it is almost laughable how quickly his expression clears.Â
âyou wouldnât?âÂ
âi wouldnât,â you confirm. âi told you, iâm completely over it.âÂ
âokay,â he sighs, in something that sounds like relief. and before you could even register it, he pulls you into a hug, crushing you against him. âsorry, i guess i got nervous.âÂ
âthatâs alright,â you whisper, wrapping your arms around him firmly, feeling his heartbeat against your ears, and you smile when you realise itâs racing.Â
âhey itâs almost midnight,â he dips down to whisper into your hear. âdo you want to go to the balcony to watch the fireworks?â as you nod, he leads you gently away from the corridor and through a set of glass doors, stepping out onto a beautiful balcony. the night air smells like honey and roses, and the sky is clear and bright with moonlight. Â
you feel a tug at your fingertips, and you look to your side to find him smiling as he looks up.Â
âwhat are you smiling about?âÂ
he hums. âiâm smiling about the fact that my date is the prettiest girl at the party.âÂ
you pretend to wrinkle your nose, and use your free hand to hit him on the shoulder. âcorny.âÂ
âyou love it.âÂ
and because itâs been weeks, and haechan is slowly making a home in your heart, you decide you need to at least start acknowledging the honest truth of the matter, so you donât say anything.Â
as the night sky fills with fireworks and the people inside the party cheer, he turns to hold your face in his hands, the tenderness and warmth in his eyes unparalleled by the lights in the sky.Â
you tilt your face up to kiss him, and as his arms fall to your waist, with a jolt you remember his voice at the bar. hey baby. the term of endearment swirls in your chest, and makes you drape your arms around his shoulders and pull him just a little closer. the two of you donât break apart for what feels like hours, as you lose yourself in the feeling of his soft lips on yours, the brush of your noses, and the slight tremble of his fingertips on your cheeks. it feels and tastes as real as you have ever known.Â
x
except itâs not real. and you canât ignore it. so you avoid it.Â
keeping busy and finally diving into all the things you wanted to do for the summer was your only way of telling haechan you couldnât make it for the next âdateâ, or the next. you can tell heâs a little confused, but since the whole thing was your idea, heâs trying his best to respect whatever pace youâre deciding to go with. you push it all away, and you try to live life without thinking of him and his hands, the way he closes his eyes in bliss when the sunlight makes his skin glow, the way his hair looks after he tugs his hoodie off, and the feel of his lips when he presses his face into the crook of your neck when he thinks youâre not paying attention.Â
itâs late. you think youâve definitely just had the longest day youâve had all summer, running errands all around the city. all you wanted to do was lie in bed and put on a show that you could fall asleep to. lazily changing into your favorite pajamas, you set up your laptop on your bed, and youâre just about to press play when your phone screen lit up the dark room.Â
jaem: wru
one of jaeminâs summer house parties mustâve been today. you were so tired that you forgot.Â
y/n: too tired :( i donât think iâll go sorry
jaem: haechan needs you
youâre sure your heart actually stops beating for a second. haechan needs you. and just like that, your imagination kicks into overdrive, wondering what he could possibly need you for.Â
holding your breath, you watch the three dots on your screen indicating jaemin typing for what seems like ages before your phone buzzes again.Â
jaem: super hammered needs u to drive him home lol sry my bad that sounded weird
you let out a sigh of relief, but you canât shake the adrenaline that rushed into you when you first saw the message.
y/n: canât you let him crash at your placeÂ
jaem: he wonât stop ASKING for u itâs driving everyone crazyÂ
a voice message comes through. he plays it, and itâs someone breathing really heavily. youâre beginning to wonder if jaemin sent this on accident, when haechanâs voice, low and husky from the alcohol, murmurs through the phone.Â
ây/n can you hear me? i wannaâŚ.wanna see you⌠pleaseâŚiâll do anythingâŚâÂ
âYOUâRE NOT BEING KIDNAPPED,â jaeminâs voice rings out, his words a little slurred but doing nothing to conceal the impatience in his tone. âGET A GRIP MAN.âÂ
âPLEAAAAASEâ, he raises his voice in an impressive whine, and you wince in second-hand embarrassment because youâre sure the entire living room must have heard that. âI MISS YOU.âÂ
the voice message ends.
jaem: what a loser but yeah you get the gist of it
y/n: okay iâm on the way. can you get him on the phone?Â
jaem: do it yourself
x
on the drive there, you do call haechan.Â
he picks up halfway through the first ring of the phone. ây/n?â
âhi haechan. iâm on the way.âÂ
âdonât lie to me,â he mumbles. âhonk your car horn.âÂ
âiâm not going to do that!,â you hiss, as if he were right here with you. âthere are cars around.âÂ
âliar,â he breathes. thereâs a pause, and when you next speak youâre startled to hear his voice wobble. âliar. youâre not coming to get m-âÂ
you slam your palm into your car horn, feeling your cheeks burn.Â
on the other end, he sniffles, and you presume heâs nodding at you. âokay. stay safe.âÂ
âi will.â you hesitate. âis everything okay? did something happen at the party? are you hurt?â
he sighs over the phone. âeverything is not okay,â he sniffles again, âbecause youâre not here.âÂ
you swallow hard. you want to take a hand off the wheel and slap yourself, because you need to remember that heâs not himself right now, and he might regret this all in the morning. you calm yourself down before responding as lightly as you can. âhaechan iâll be there any minute now, okay? but you have to tell me if something happened and if you want to talk about it.âÂ
he breathes heavily into the receiver. eventually, he mumbles out, ânothing happened.â shuffling, a pause, and then⌠âjust miss you thatâs all. i want to do moreâŚmore experience-y stuff with you.â more to himself than to you, he rambles on. âweâre falling behind you know. how are we going to finish this by the end of summer?âÂ
a shot of pain twists at your guts, and you feel nauseous. so he really just wants to get all of this over and done with. you want to stop the car so you can throw up. you want to turn it back around. youâre suddenly regretting dropping everything just because he wanted to see you, because if this was whyâŚÂ
you keep driving on autopilot. the call has gone silent, but you can hear haechan breathing on the other end, and itâs driving you mad. you have no right to yell at him, but you almost do.Â
when you pull up at jaeminâs driveway, you clear your throat. your voice controlled, you say, âiâm here now. you want me to come in and get you?âÂ
âokay. iâm in the 1st floor bathroom.âÂ
x
the front door swings open, and youâre met with jaemin. at first, you think heâs going to tell you off for taking so long, but something in your face causes the words to die in his throat.Â
ây/n?â he asks. âare you okay?âÂ
and before you know it, youâre wrapped in his arms in a hug and youâre bawling like you hadnât for months. the built up pressure of avoiding haechan, of having to get into character as his girlfriend and having to get out of character just as often, and all your confusion at your feelings leave you sobbing and you just canât stop. jaeminâs running his hands down your back and making soft, soothing noises.Â
you realise that you just really, really, missed your best friend.Â
âiâm s-sorry,â you choke out. âi havenât come round to see you ever since the start of s-summer.âÂ
âitâs okay,â he shakes his head, and leans back to look at you, wiping tears off your face gently. âweâve both been busy.âÂ
but you shake your head. âi really need to talk to you. i need your opinion in my life.âÂ
he laughs at that. âi never thought iâd hear you say that.âÂ
you just go back to hugging him as you slowly calm down, and the constricting feeling in your chest eases. but after a moment, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and when you check it you see that haechan has spammed your text messages with a bunch of â?????????â and sad faces.Â
jaemin, ever the nosiest person in the room, is looking at your phone with a frown. âyou never told me you started dating haechan, by the way.âÂ
ignoring the twist in your stomach, you shake your head. âthatâs because iâm not.â jaemin raises his eyebrows, and you elaborate. âweâre just doing coupley things. for the experience.âÂ
narrowing his eyes because he knows you way too well, jaemin asks, âwas this something you decided in the middle of the night? itâs sounding very classic middle-of-the-night-y/n âŚ.â but at the look of frustration on your face, he immediately drops it. âokay, okay. not now. i get it.âÂ
ây/n? are you here?â
you still, as haechan shuffles into view. he squints, until he confirms that itâs you, and suddenly heâs rushing towards you giddily and unsteadily, his socked feet slipping and sliding on the floor of the hallway until hes collapsed in your arms.Â
and there it is: his damn face in your neck again.
âwondered where you were, angelâ you feel his hot breath against the base of your neck, and shivers shoot down your spine. âcan i call you that? is it allowed?âÂ
exchanging glances with you, seeing how this was slowly making you go insane, jaemin reaches out hesitantly to pry him off of you. âhaechan, maybe itâs best if you stay at my place tonight-âÂ
but haechan is quick to shrug him off, and with an agility that he shouldnât be capable of in his state he pivots behind you and clings onto your back. his face once again buried in your neck.Â
âdonât wanna,â he shakes his head vigorously. âwanna stay with y/n.âÂ
ây/n doesnât want to stay with you,â jaemin starts forward again, making eye contact with you as he confirms, âright, y/n?âÂ
haechan spins you around in his hold, with the most wounded expression youâve ever seen from him, or anyone for that matter. his eyes filling with tears, his cheeks flushed and his lip wobbling in an alarming way, he chokes out, âyou d-donât wantâŚto s-stayâŚwith me?âÂ
âi do, i do.â you assure him, trying to soothe him by drawing circles on his back with your thumb as he bites back sobs. over haechanâs back, you can see jaemin sigh defeatedly. âwhat am i supposed to do, heâs about to cry!â you hiss at him.
âhe can cry on cue,â jaemin mouths.Â
pause. what?
you look back at haechanâs face, but every expression seems to be genuine: his bottom lip caught between his teeth and the tears shimmering in his lashes, his hands â which he barely seems to be aware of â caressing your sides nervously, as if afraid you were going to disappear into thin air.Â
âhaechan,â you start. âare you lying to me?âÂ
x
but that was the wrong thing to say. the better part of the next hour was spent trying to console a weeping and sobbing haechan on his knees, who would not stop clutching your waist and biting jaemin when he tried to pry him off of you. and then it was guiding him to your car, and another round of consoling as you assured him that no, you werenât going to disappear as you were driving, and no, you could not drive one-handed so you could not hold his hand the entire way, but yes, he could put his hand on your thigh if he promised he wouldnât do anything else.Â
you end up reaching, and then driving away from haechanâs apartment, because he would not leave the car without you and you figured that you might as well get a good nightâs sleep at your own home. and somehow, you end up digging out some of markâs old clothes out from the back of your closet for him to wear. and now, youâre standing between his legs, brushing his teeth for him while he looks at you adoringly.Â
he mumbles something intelligible, his mouth full of toothpaste foam, and you shake your head tiredly at him.Â
ânuh-uh. rinse your mouth out first.âÂ
you hold the spare mug up to his mouth and his lips wrap around the rim of it obediently. turning to spit in the sink, he swivels back to face you, his arms never leaving your side.Â
âiâm sorry.â he says, quietly.Â
âitâs okay. i know youâd do the same for me,â you say, patiently, because itâs true. if you were drunk, haechan would definitely drop everything to make sure you were safe.Â
that you were sure of, because that was just the kind of person he was.Â
âno,â he tugs his bottom lip with his teeth again, looking nervous. âitâs not about that.â his arms remove themself from your waist and he wraps them around himself instead. all of a sudden, youâve never felt colder.Â
âwhat do you mean?âÂ
he doesnât look at you in the eye when he answers. âsorry for bringing up our deal. thatâs not why i miss you.âÂ
you think you could cry. âreally?â he nods, but his eyes are still on the floor. âhaechanâŚâ you press. âlook at me.âÂ
he looks up. he looks so pretty right there, his heart-shaped lips and moles scattered haphazardly over his cheeks and nose.Â
âso why do you miss me?â you ask, hoping against hope. his lips part, and for a split second you think heâs going to lean forward and kiss you.Â
but then his lips press together. he shakes his head. and again. and then he slides off the counter, brushes past you and out of the bathroom despite you calling his name. and when you break yourself out of your daze and walk, trembling slightly, to your bedroom, you see him tucked under the covers, fast asleep.Â
x
âi still don'tâ get this âquiet haechanâ thing you keep going on about,â jaemin chews thoughtfully on a forkful of salad. âbut okay, iâll bite.âÂ
youâre having lunch with jaemin for the first time in weeks. with nothing much going on in his life for the summer, him waving you off when you apologised again about not checking in with him, the two of you breezed past your usual topics and quickly moved on to the elephant in the room: you and your fake relationship with haechan.Â
nervously, you pick at your fries. âdo you think i should just tell him we can stop now?âÂ
jaemin shook his head. âthatâs not the main problem.â ever the mom best friend, he takes a pause for dramatic effect before leaning in. âthe main problem is that your catching feelings policy is completely shit.âÂ
you glare at him, but donât manage to keep it up. heâs right. âyou think i should ask him about that?âÂ
âof course.â jaemin shrugs. âbut you could also just confess and see what happens.â at your mortified expression, he raises a hand to calm you down. âyou never know until you try.âÂ
unwilling to address the fact that he assumed you were in love with haechan, and the fact that he was probably right, you argue back. âyouâre the one whoâs friends with the both of us. do you have any idea if he maybe likes me or not?âÂ
âiâm not telling you,â jaemin says, stubbornly. âyou have to make the decision and accept the risks it comes with.âÂ
you put your head in your hands. âi really hate you sometimes.â
xÂ
as it turned out, âsometimesâ turned out to be occuring quite frequently, because jaemin seemed hell bent on getting you to talk to haechan, even if it was through the most roundabout ways.Â
such as inviting the beach-house group of friends over for dinner the next day, just so you had a reason to talk to haechan.Â
and that led you to where you were, currently, jaemin putting the cap back on his black marker as the words âASK ABT CATCH FEELINGS POLICYâ scrawled over your wrist and palm.Â
âiâll remember to ask him, i swear,â you say impatiently, trying to wriggle your arm out of his grasp, but jaemin was a man on a mission.Â
âi donât trust you,â he insists. âthis way, even if you donât bring it up, heâll read it off your arm, and you will both talk it out.â finishing up with a few exclamation points, he caps his marker triumphantly.Â
youâre about to head to the bathroom to wash it off, when haechan shuffles into the living room, and embarrassingly itâs as if your mind is wiped clean.Â
between the night he slept over and now, the two of you had only seen each other once. he had called to apologize for bothering you the night of jaeminâs party, and you made plans to have lunch together, not dinner (because night time was always an emotional affair for the two of you, as evidenced in the past few weeks).Â
sitting in the sun, staring at him while he talked, the two of you eating in semi-silence, was enough for you to realise that no matter what time of day it was you would always be a little too giddy over him. the two of you, in some sort of mutual agreement, had left it at that â him bidding you goodbye with a pat on the shoulder, of all things.Â
and now, standing in front of you, his eyes just as confusing with their tenderness, you think that jaemin may be onto something.Â
âso how can i help?â haechan looks around the room, his mind on the dinner. âdo we have all the materials? orâŚâÂ
âeverythingâs in the kitchen, haechan,â you nod in the direction of the dining table. âiâll show you.âÂ
haechan nods, more to himself than you. then, hesitantly, he starts, ây/nâŚâÂ
something had to give. but not now, not as you felt everything in you crashing down, your heart threatening to spill over at the edges just at the sight of him again.Â
âweâre good.â you interrupt. âeverythingâs going to be okay, haechan.âÂ
he bites his lip.Â
âit will be,â you insist. âweâll talk later, okay?âÂ
his expression clears a little at that. âokay.âÂ
x
in the car on the way home, jaemin insisting haechan drive you, it begins to drizzle slightly. after the moment from just now, the two of you had almost been able to go back to normal, working side by side and sitting together during dinner. topics opening up between you, discussing what happened in the days you hadnât seen each other. things were comfortable, and you almost felt like you could go back to ignoring the aching feeling in your chest.Â
it slowly starts to end when the car peels into the street in front of your apartment. the two of you go quiet, and haechanâs body is tense as he looks straight ahead.
you realise you hadnât even brought up what you had meant to say.Â
âdo youâŚmaybeâŚwant to come inside?â you suggest. âwe could watch a movie?â
âitâs late.â he says, almost automatically. he looks over at you, and you look so hesitant and sad. fuck. something stirs inside his chest, and suddenly he wants to do anything to take that look away from your face.Â
âi mean, i could. just for a movie.âÂ
you smile, and haechan relaxes.
x
cozied up on your bed, haechan in a pair of sweats he had left over some other time, you slump against him as your eyes flicker between watching the movie on your laptop screen, and watching him. something about the way things were going tonight told you this might be the last time you could be with him like this, and you wanted to cherish it while you could.Â
the music swells in the random drama film you picked, and you are feeling that feeling again, the one that you get when youâre about to spill your soul out, and even with haechanâs warmth against you â his arm tucked into your waist and your head resting against his chest, the reality that he wasnât yours was crashing down all the walls in your heart.Â
he realises youâre crying before you do, as he registers the jagged breathing from your chest, and the soft sounds youâre making.Â
ây/n? whatâs wrong?âÂ
âi-i, i just.â you breathe, and your sobs wreck through your words, each one stabbing painfully at his chest. âiâm just s-so tired of not h-having someone who loves me that much.âÂ
running a hand up and down your back, haechan makes soft cooing noises as you bury your face in his chest. âokay. so watching this film was a baaaad idea.âÂ
youâre muffled sobs soak through his hoodie, and you press it closer to your face because it smells safe and it smells like him. your emotions running away from you, you splutter out, âmaybe iâll never find s-someone. maybe i just have to deal w-with it. these experiences are just t-temporary fixes, arenât they? iâll never find someone who l-loves me. i mean, right now i am so in love with you and you donât even seem to c-care ââÂ
haechan stills. he sits there, motionless, you still quivering in his arms, as his brain kicks into overdrive.Â
youâre in love with him?Â
incoherent, youâre still talking on and on, and suddenly he knows it isnât something he should be hearing.Â
âshut up.â he says, quietly, but you ignore him and ramble on. âshut up,â he insists.Â
âyou d-donât want me,â you sob, and somewhere in the back of your mind you know youâll be embarrassed about this later, but for now all you could focus on was the fact that haechan wasnât reacting because he was probably completely disgusted at the idea of even being with you. âi-i started to ignore you because it was too difficult to be around you, and suddenly you show up drunk and asking for me, and then you just act like nothing happened and i have the feeling that iâll never see you again-â
âfuck it,â he breathes, and suddenly heâs holding your face in his hands, moving you away from his chest. âshut up, y/n. please.â and then he is kissing you, his mouth moving on yours, begging you to understand. you think heâs drawing the breath straight from your lungs, and youâre sure your lips will bruise, but you kiss him back with even more fervor, settling your weight on his lap as you lean into him, and he groans.Â
breaking away from you, breathing heavily, he reaches for your hands and begins to press kisses to your knuckles, trying to ease you.Â
âhaechanâŚâ you start, because everything is so confusing to you at this moment. âdonât-you donât mean it-â
âwhatâs this?â he interrupts, as he flips your palm up, raking the sleeves of your hoodie upwards so the words âASK ABT CATCH FEELINGS POLICY!!!!!â, smudged but unmistakable, could be read even in the dim room.Â
âoh, y/nâŚâ he whispers, reaching to stroke your cheek. leaning into his palm, completely lost in his touch, you mumble on.Â
âjaemin said our catching feelings policy was shitâŚâ you blurt out. âand i agree. i want a new one. i want to be allowed to love you.âÂ
gently, haechan continues to whisper to you. âyouâre the one making the rules.â trembling, his arms wrap around you, and he rocks you in his hold tenderly. âyouâve always been the one making the rules. i would do anything you told me to. i would love you if you asked.âÂ
you donât understand any of the words heâs saying. âno,â you raise your voice a little louder, even though heâs still speaking in that low voice. âyou donât want me.â your eyes fill with tears, you can see it now: heâs comforting you, heâs lying to you because youâre crying, and haechan is nothing but good to you, a kindness and gentleness in everything he does that you just know youâll never feel again.Â
ây/n thatâs not true,â he shakes his head resolutely. âplease believe me.âÂ
his voice is patient and soothing, and itâs that tone which slowly calms you down. the gentle rhythm of his hands tracing circles on your arms allowing you to breathe easier, and relax a little in his hold to be able to really look at him. and itâs the worry in his eyes, and softness in the way heâs looking at you which makes something click into place in your head.Â
and so what if everything in your relationship with him was supposed to be fake â the dates, the moments heâs introduced you as his girlfriend. everything else in between had started to be real for you â the kisses, the time you told him not to mention the deal or the list or the experience at all and so he didnât, brushing his teeth for him as he sat on the counter, skin brushing against yours.
and so what if it was real for him too â the times where heâs held your hand or pulled you close when you werenât paying attention, the nights on the drive back when he would look over at you incessantly?
untangling yourself from him, you reach for the notebook and pen you keep on your nightstand. he doesnât stop you, tilting his head in confusion.Â
âwhat are you doing?âÂ
holding it out to him, your heart hammering in your chest, you gesture for him to take it. âwrite me something i can read when i wake up. itâs so i haveâŚ,â you take a breath. âitâs so i have proof that itâs real.â
something stirs in haechanâs chest. taking the pen in his hands, he begins to scrawl on the notebook, looking up at you as heâs writing.Â
âif you still feel the same way, call me as soon as possible, okay?âÂ
âokay,â you promise, breathlessly.Â
the yearning in your eyes is driving him crazy. guiltily, he reaches for you again, and slots his lips in yours, holding you tightly against him. as if kissing you was the last thing he would ever get to do.Â
you have half a mind to move into his lap, wrap your legs around his waist and keep him with you forever, but already he pries your hands away from him and heads for the door, reluctance making his movements disjointed and shaky.Â
âgo to sleep, y/n.â he says, gently. âiâll see you soon.âÂ
and with that, heâs gone, and youâre left on your bed, the note at your bedside burning a hole into your table. shutting away your laptop, you curl up under the covers, and somewhere in your mind you pray that the light of day doesnât treat you too harshly. Â
x
dear y/n,Â
last night you told me that you were in love with me. i donât know if it was the loneliness, or even if it was too late at night for you to be thinking straight. all i know is that i love you too. i didnât think you would want me unless we were playing pretend. but now i canât look at you without realising i am completely fucking in love with you. iâm sorry that you never knew, and that somehow i messed up to the point where you didnât believe me when i told you. if you wake up tomorrow and you still want me, call me. i will do everything with you again if it means itâll be real.Â
love, haechan
xÂ
itâs a little difficult to be around your friend group when theyâre all like this.Â
summer was drawing to a close, the optimism at the start and the feeling of endless days under the sun slowly fading to a blistering heat, which then slowly tapered out into a hazy sense of being in limbo. soon the seasons would change, the days get shorter and the nights grow longer, the loneliest parts of the year stretching out before everyone. the sense that this had been another summer of wasted potential, the sense of taking a deep breath before the dive, of holding love close to oneâs heart and hoping itâs enough to last through the winter, hanging in the air.
you had walked over to jaeminâs apartment for breakfast with everyone, practicing the entire way. you were going to tell haechan you wanted to talk to him. pull him away from the group, and talk to him in a separate room. the letter from last night, from him, seeming to burn right through your palms, words you wanted to echo right back at him.Â
but when you opened the door, you realise he wasnât there. instead, everyone else sat slumped around the living room, prodding at various snacks and cans, and waving at you lazily as you picked your way through them, looking for the familiar mop of brown hair and eyes you had come to love.Â
âjaemin,â you make your way to your friend, whoâs crumpled into the couch himself.Â
âhey y/n,â he smiles at you easily. âhow did it go yesterday?âÂ
âwell itâs still going,â you admit. âwhereâs haechan?âÂ
jaemin furrows his brow. âi swear he just arrived. i think he said something about getting us breakfast.âÂ
your body moves before you can think to, winding through the room and carrying you towards the front door and out into the driveway. and there it is â his car, slowing backing out. and through the window you can see him, looking over his shoulder, the familiar twist of his neck you knew so well. the arm he would throw over the passenger seat.Â
you call out to him, and by some miracle he hears you. he stops the car jerkily, and you rush towards him. he had just barely gotten out of the car when you fall into his arms â you think you never want to be separated from him again.Â
squeezing you against his chest, he murmurs next to your ear. âyou read my message?â you nod. âi meant every word,â he says, kissing the crown of your head. âi know weâve done this all backwards. really sometimes i just wish i could go back and ask you out like i should have done.âÂ
âi donât regret it,â you tell him truthfully. stepping back from his hold, you interlock his hands with yours, relishing the familiar feeling. âi donât regret any of the things we did.âÂ
âme neither.â he hesitates. âactuallyâŚmaybe i regret getting drunk at jaeminâs party.â he shuffles his feet. âi missed you a lot, and i feel like i should have just told you then.âÂ
âmaybe.â pause. âor you should tell me again now, because i donât think iâve heard you say it.â and itâs something thatâs a little teasing, because at this point you know he loves you just as much as you love him, but haechan takes it so seriously â straightening up, he holds your hands against his chest, looking deep into your eyes. you feel a little out of breath from the way heâs looking at you.Â
âiâm really sorry,â he starts. âfor everything. i love you so much. everything i ever told you, every time weâve touched, it was real for me.âÂ
âand if i believe you?âÂ
he smiles. and itâs a look you know so well, the familiarity in reading his expressions and talking to him without words hitting you full force.Â
âjust tell me you love me too,â he says, softly. ânot because itâs at night, and youâre feeling lonely, and not while youâre crying. was it real for you too?â
and even though youâre soon interrupted by jaemin, who urges the two of you to go get breakfast together. even though the two of you keep making lists of places you want to go, and things which feel like love to you â haechan presenting you with music to dance in the kitchen to, afternoons spent restaurant hopping and nights spent driving to look at the ocean and sit under the stars. even as winter eventually rolls around, and the two of you bundle yourselves up in the apartment, his cheeks perpetually a shade of red which makes you want to kiss him â
neither of you forget the way it all started. that first time he held your hand in the middle of the kitchen and warmed you all the way through. because everything was real. and in a way, it always had been.
#haechan fluff#haechan angst#haechan scenario#haechan imagine#fic: if i believe you#nct fluff#nct angst#donghyuck fluff#donghyuck angst
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Porcelain Steve - Part 4
Part OneđŚPart TwođŚPart ThreeđŚPart FourđŚPart FiveđŚPart SixđŚPart SevenđŚPart EightđŚPart Nine
"I don't think this is a good idea," Nancy says, a week later, as she takes a step back. She doesn't seem aware of the physical distance she's added between herself and Robin, but more importantly, herself and Steve in Robin's outstretched arm.
Robin frowns, pulling Steve back towards her body, eyes flicking to meet with Eddie's where he's been hovering awkwardly off to the side, feeling so very out of place. He was going to stay in the van, but when they arrived Robin had raised an eyebrow and said 'aren't you coming?' So, he'd climbed out and followed her into the Wheeler's living room, where he is now.
"What?" Robin asks.
Nancy crosses her arms and looks off to the side. "We shouldn't pass the doll around like this. The more we move it, the bigger chance of someone breaking it."
"It?" seethes Robin, "Steve is not an it!"
"Shit, no, Robin I know that. I didn't mean to say that out loud," Nancy says, then her face screws up as she immediately regrets saying that. "I don't mean that, either. I just, this is. Difficult. For me."
Eddie can't help the scoff that leaves him at that. As if Nancy is the only one taking this harshly. If she knew how long Dustin had cried into his chest two days ago she'd probably have a bit more perspective. Eddie's come to realize she's a badass with a shotgun, a great strategist in dire situations, but when it comes to being a person with emotions and feelings? He's not sure Nancy learned how to do that.
That might be unfair of him to say because he didn't know Nancy before spring break of '86 and didn't really get to know her before she packed up and went to college. This is the first summer since then, so still not a whole lot of 'hanging out and getting to know Nancy Wheeler time' has happened.
He did get to know Jonathan and Argyle, though. Got to hear about her past with Jonathan and Steve (Eddie feels a bit like an idiot for everything he said about Nancy to Steve during the worst week of his life, but he's used to being embarrassed by things he says and pretending he's not). So, he's heard about her steamrolling over people's emotions with her own logic and wants, though can concede it never seems to be intentional.
He tries to lower his hackles because Robin's already on the defensive and Eddie doesn't know Nancy. Just knows of her from people she's hurt, which is almost always a biased retelling anyway.
"Like it's not difficult for all of us?" Robin asks.
"No, that's not what I meant. Just- give me a moment!" Nancy whips around, so that neither Robin or Eddie can see her face. Her shoulders heave up and down like she's taking several deep breaths.
Eddie moves into Robin's space but hovers just beside her, unsure if she'd welcome a hand on her shoulder or not. She huffs out a sigh, as if able to read his mind, and the next thing he knows she's weaseling her way in between him and his own arm, using him as a leaning post like she might with Steve if he were, y'know, still a human and not a doll. He's not used to how touchy Robin is yet because she's only like this with Steve but he's getting there. He's not Robin's soulmate, and he's not trying to be, but he does want to be there for her while Steve can't.
"I'm surprised you're giving her space to think," Eddie whispers into the top of Robin's head.
"Yeah, well, Steve doesn't need to hear us arguing. It's like, all he hears lately."
He pats her arm with his hand since she's draped his arm across her shoulders.
Nancy finally turns around. "Can. Can we put Steve up in my room? I have to say some things that I'm not ready for him to hear yet."
"Oh." Robin says, before offering Steve out.
Nancy takes him, muttering a soft, "I'm sorry, Steve." before she disappears up the stairs.
"What's on your mind, Wheeler?" Eddie asks, breaking the silence that had settled uncomfortably since Nancy's return to the living room.
"I don't really think of Steve as an it. I don't. It's just- easier for me to think of the solution if I'm not thinking about how that's really Steve. I know that's Steve, that he's been transformed, but if I acknowledge that, think about it too much, I spiral. I've taken to just... thinking about some abstract magic doll instead of Steve. So, that was- it was an accident. I didn't mean to say it."
He feels Robin nodding her head, adjusting her stance as she crosses her arms.
Nancy continues, "I don't think Steve should spend time here. With Mike or I. We aren't- it's not going to be good for Steve. He's not going to feel welcomed or wanted here. Except maybe for with Holly, but she cannot know he's here. She'd try and play with him."
Eddie frowns. He understands that Mike isn't going to part of the Hang Out With Porcelain Steve rotation, because whatever beef they have can't be fixed while Steve's like this, and until it's fixed, that would just be torture for both of them. He's not sure why Nancy thinks she'd be just as bad, though, so he asks, "No Holly, no Mike. Why are you also a no?"
The look on Nancy's face is comical, a mix of indignation, sadness, and a bit of how can you seriously not already know the answer mixed. "Because I won't hang out with him. I can't be walking around my house with a porcelain doll that looks like my ex-boyfriend. He'll be left, probably face down, on my dresser, until someone else's turn comes around."
"You could put in the effort, you know. It's not going to kill you to pretend to care for a day," Robin says.
Nancy sucks in a sharp breath. "I do care! Just because I don't want to cuddle with Doll Steve and tell him all about my day doesn't mean I don't care. Just because I don't express my feelings and emotions the same way you do doesn't mean I don't have them."
"Ok, right, yeah, that was unfair of me," Robin concedes, "but what's the part you aren't saying? None of this sounds like something you had to lock Steve in your room for. It's understandable, and Steve wouldn't hold it against you, you know."
"I know! I do! That's why I can't. There's- Robin, you have to know. Steve and I aren't- we're still more like ex's than friends. It's... complicated. We're working on it, though, the being friends thing. But it's..."
"Complicated," Robin sighs, stepping away from Eddie now, halfway to Nancy before she stops walking, hands on her hips.
"That spring break, it fucked us all up, and the months that followed, but I was so- Steve and I were dancing around each other, and Jonathan and I were good, then not, on and then off and then on. And I-I led Steve on, because I would turn to him when Jonathan and I were fighting, or on a break, or whatever-" Nancy stops to take a breath.
Eddie feels something ugly rising in him, jealousy and anger. He doesn't have any right to be jealous. Steve and he are friends, and Steve's straight so it's not like Eddie ever even had a chance, but he's jealous anyway. That Nancy gets that kind of attention from Steve. That she can just keep pieces of Steve on a string, enjoying him when she wants and discarding him when she doesn't. Anger that she can just treat Steve like a yoyo and get away with it.
A little angry at Steve, too, for letting her do it.
"Did you and Steve have sex while you and Jonathan were together?" Robin seethes.
"No! No! There was one time, Jonathan and I were off-again and I tried- but no!" Nancy is pink in the face, and Eddie's surprised she even answers. It's not his or Robin's business if they did. He thinks she might only be answering honestly because it's Robin asking. "Steve said no. He told me he wasn't going to do that the Jonathan. Because he knew what it felt like to be on that side. And even now that Jonathan and I are done, moved on, Steve and I aren't- so it's complicated."
That's news to Eddie. He thought Nancy and Jonathan were still a couple. He's a little shocked to learn that Nancy is confirmed available and Steve didn't jump on the chance.
"Oh! I get it, now, why this is not a good idea," Robin says. Great that she knows, because Eddie still doesn't. "He said no, didn't he?"
Who said no to what?
Nancy's eyes snap to Robin. "What?"
"When you asked Steve to be your boyfriend again. He said no."
"He told you-?"
"No," Robin interrupts, "Steve would never, and you know that. I just know Steve, and the one thing he would never tell me about if it happened. That's why you don't want him here."
"You're in love with him!" Eddie blurts because he's also just figured it out and like Robin often does, has no brain to mouth filter.
Nancy looks to Eddie now, a small frown on her face. "Possibly. But it doesn't matter because I had my chance and it's over now. So, I can't have him here. Not while he's like this."
"I'll go get him," Robin says, leaving the living room.
"Eddie," Nancy locks eyes with him. The look on her face is pretty intense. "He told me no because he thought he was in love with someone else."
He blinks back at her. "Were you hoping he told me who? 'Cause he didn't. That's a question better left for Robin."
All he gets in response is an eye roll.
#steddie#porcelain steve#i think steve and nancy could become friends again one day#but like... maybe in 1995 or something like that#after plenty of time has past#its rough to stay friends with an ex you were in love with#wheres the rest of the wheeler family you might ask#good question. out somewhere doing something#my fic#platonic soulmates
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i would love to know ur dickhelena thoughts that might be controversial actually⌠i recently finished a bunch of huntress reading so sheâs been on my mind a lot
Idk maybe the most controversial thing is how much I care about the two of them as a pair. I think their friendship is more compelling than Dick and Babs as a relationship or Helena and Babs (whatever tf youâd call what they have going on). And I just wish that weâd gotten more of Dick and Helena together, I feel like their dynamic had so much meat to it. There was so much to dig into that was never full explored. And I think leaning into it would have been good for the development of BOTH of them as characters.
Iâm not saying I think they should be a couple, but it makes me sad that nobody seems to care about them as a pair. There are so many Dick Grayson fans and I feel like a large portion of them barely know who Helena is. And Helena fans generally donât seem to give a fuck about Dick (correct me if Iâm wrong, thatâs just based on my observations⌠also fair enough). But they make such interesting foils and you could do so many different stories with the two of them and their opposing viewpoints. And itâs always more interesting than pairing Helena up with Batman because Dick and Helena actually seem to care about each other on a human level and they have this unnamable tension between them that I think works so so so well.
The dynamic Iâm talking about is pretty contained to the 90s through to 2011. Dick and Helenaâs dynamic in Grayson is fun but it also feels like both of them (but especially Helena) are completely different characters there. And to be completely honest I donât know a lot about what their relationship looks like since Rebirth.
What I wanted from them was for their relationship/friendship/working partnership to get the breathing room to stretch and grow. I wanted it to be painful and sweet and difficult. I wanted their chemistry, their similarities, and their camaraderie to MEAN SOMETHING!! And it was pushed aside by people like Chuck Dixon who were very very keen on pushing Dick and Barbara as a power couple (Nothing against Babs, I absolutely adore her. Really donât like DickBabs tho) I also think a lot of writers at the time disliked Helena so they did their best to make it seem like she meant nothing to their precious Nightwing.
I think they work better as friends than as a couple. Theyâre both quite uncompromising characters with core values that donât line up. It could be interesting to explore a romantic relationship between them, but anytime thatâs been done it just feels⌠off to me. I donât mind the sometimes sexual aspect of their relationship, it works for me sometimes, but at other times I do think it feels a little bit forced (Devin Grayson why is Helena randomly shoving her tongue down his throat). Anyway.
Dick canât love certain parts of her, (her willingness to kill bad people). Helena canât love certain parts of him (his rigidity, to put it lightly). And I think what they both need is a kind of freedom theyâll never be able to find in each other. Itâs crazy because both of these characters have a sort of wild and free personality at times but neither of them are free. Helena is bound by the memory of the slaughter of her family, her old mob ties, her guilt, her compassion and hatred in equal measures, her religion, Batman and Gotham. Dick is bound by his love for Bruce, the shoes he has to fill, the version of himself he needs to live up to, the version of himself Bruce imagines is real, the weight of all the people who rely on him etc.
Thereâs this dedication and commitment and fervor at the core of both of them and theyâre both orphans and theyâve both experienced so much violence and they both have a chip on their shoulder about Batman and yet they have so much to argue over itâs GREAT!!!!
Anyways love them a lot ok byeee!
#dick grayson#helena bertinelli#nightwing#the huntress#huntress#dickhelena#90s batfam imy#90s batfam youâll live in my heart forever#dc comics
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a bit dirty - ch4
in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch4 | next [masterlist]
// not the worst idea ~ á´sá´á´á´ x Ęá´á´á´
á´Ę ~ 9245 á´Ąá´Ę��s (ooo, long chapter yw)
a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, more bathroom fucking, casual osamu, meeting friends!~ ah! names names names pet names a million pet names, slight slowburn? like they fuck but-, this is the angst chapter, it's very small angst tho, fixes itself in the same chapter ily, developing feelings fr, afab she/her pronouns
join my taglist here!! ~~ ⥠Ęá´ĘĘá´É˘s á´É´á´
ÉŞÉ´á´á´Ęá´á´á´ÉŞá´É´s á´á´á´É´ á´Ęá´ á´Ąá´ĘĘá´
âĄ
the chime of the entrance bell rings as osamu pushes open the front door, two brown bags of groceries in each arm as he greets you with, âcanât believe youâre here before me.â
âmorning to you too,â you tease, rushing around the bar to meet him and take a bag or two from him.
âthanks,â he says as your fingers brush up against his forearm and your heart thumps a little too loud given that you literally just took groceries from him, but youâd argue that itâs not just the groceries, itâs the tone of his voice and his grateful look and the way that you swear his arm moves with your touch just to feel it a little longer.
âcourse,â you reply, walking back into the kitchen, osamu right behind you, and setting the bags down on the stainless steel countertop. you start pulling things out of the bag, vegetables and sauces and kitchen staples, and he starts putting them away in their respective pantry.Â
âthanks for closing for me last night,â he says as he walks back over to the central table where youâre placing all of the ingredients. Â
âno worries,â you say, shaking your head, âthatâs why you taught me,â you reason.
âthatâs true,â he replies.Â
you empty the last of the bags, folding them neatly and placing them in the cupboard. âhow was your brotherâs anyway?â you ask, genuinely curious.Â
âreally fun,â osamu nods, mulling over something in his head as he continues, âit was nice to just chill on a saturday night for once.â
âi bet,â you smile, âbet youâre glad that I offered to learn to close, huh?â
âdefinitely glad that i trust someone else enough to close for me, yea,â he says, slightly altering the phrase for the better.Â
youâve only been closing for a handful of months now, were taught a couple of weeks after you returned from the catering event, a couple of weeks after you had sex with osamu for the third time, but on the fucking clock. meaning, it has been a handful of months and some odd weeks since youâve mentioned anything about yours and osamuâs relationship and what the fuck the two of you are doing or not doing.
youâd think that not mentioning a boundary might be better, easier to navigate if no one has explicitly told the other that it shouldnât be happening, but the truth is that itâs actually much more difficult. neither of you are sure where the other stands, what their feelings are on the matter, and that fact has led to a standstill.Â
not for your job, of course. your job has never been better. youâre still learning every day, you and osamu are still working really well together on the shifts where youâre a team of two, youâre happily taking on more responsibilities and osamu is happily trusting you with them, you trust each other.
but the scope of your relationship, since you knew who he was, of the trust and the easy conversations, has only ever been within the boundaries of work, until he mentions, âyou should come next time.â
âwhat? to your brotherâs party?â you ask, and youâre sure you sound as in disbelief as you feel.
âitâs not really like a party,â he says, âthere arenât enough people there for it to be like a party. itâs more like just a small hang out.â
how is that better comes out more like, âthen whoâll close for you?â
âweâll just throw everything in a paper bag and deal with it the morning after,â he explains, because heâs thought about asking you and the intricacies of you saying yes before the words left his mouth, ââve done it plenty of times before.â you donât answer right away, mulling over the ramifications of accompanying him to an event like this.
âif you donât want to,â he says, and you recognize that hesitancy, the embarrassment, like heâs made a mistake by putting himself out there, by trying to progress your relationship and navigate this really weird time where the two of you donât know what the other wants.
âno!â you say, abruptly, maybe a bit too loud, âi do! i absolutely do.â
âare ya sure? i know sumuâs a lot, but he wonât be the only one there, sakusaâll be there and our friend, suna. theyâre way more chill. not sure we could all take it if we had someone else in our group like sumu,â osamu explains and excuses all at the same time, slightly rambling, but youâre looking at him like heâs the cutest thing youâve ever seen.Â
thereâs no mention of aran or any other coworker you know and itâs just nailing in how much of a non-work event this is, no social safety net to catch you or to lean back on. osamu will be the only one you really know there. he looks at you, patient for an answer.Â
youâve already made up your mind, know exactly the response youâre going to give, but he just makes it even easier as he says, âi wonât leave your side, swear.â
you laugh, head falling from your spine, goofy smile, youâre sure, on your face as you nod, âthen iâd be stupid not to, huh?â
/\ /\ /\
true to his word, the next time that atsumu has a small hang out, osamu invites you. he plans it all out too, schedules the two of you to work together that night, takes responsibility of driving you there and getting you home safely, double checks that you actually want to go, gives you plenty of time and a lot of grace to back out, but you donât. Â
the night of the small hang out, osamu is ready to leave onigiri miya promptly at 9pm. the checks are punched, the money is counted, and the receipts are safely stuffed in a bag for you to sort out tomorrow when you open. you change into more casual, less work uniform clothes in the bathroom, grab the bag of onigiris that osamu has packed for sakusa and suna, and then you head out.
âso which one of these friends is the one that was with you and atsumu at the club that night?â you ask as you wait for him to lock the front door. translation: which of these guys knows that we had sex in a dirty club bathroom?
âomi was there with sumu and i that night, but weâre all really close,â osamu answers, walking down the street towards his parked car. translation: they both know that we had sex in a dirty club bathroom.Â
âhow do you know them anyway?â you ask before offering a small thank you to osamu opening the passenger side door for you.Â
âomi started as sumuâs friend, really, but then the two became inseparable, and sumu and i are practically inseparable, so, yâknow,â osamu answers, âand then suna and i have been friends since high school. honestly, been the four of us for a really long time.â
âwell, iâm excited to meet them,â you say very truthfully, âespecially if you say that theyâre more chill than atsumu,â you add, even more truthfully.
osamu laughs, âdefinitely,â he says, âtheyâll love ya.â
the warmth rises to your cheeks, sweat to your palms, and you shift in your seat, turn your body slightly to face him just a touch more, to see the comfort in his features and the softness in his eyes. your heart a subtle drum, echoing in your ribcage, and as your fingers crawl against the center console, creep towards his resting forearm, the rumble roars reverberant. Â
the tips of your fingers brush against his wrist and itâs like heâs expecting it, arm overturning, thumb brushing against your palm before threading his fingers with yours like thatâs where theyâre meant to be. itâs without explanation and void of any reluctance or questioning, reciprocated and assured.Â
and you really wish you could make better sense of this.
/\ /\ /\
you assume that atsumu will answer the door given that itâs his place, but your assumption is wrong. when osamu knocks on the door, it takes only a few seconds for someone, you deduce suna, to answer it. he throws open the door, greets osamu with a wave and then you with nod. âyo,â he says, and then holds the door open for the two of you to step inside.
âsuna,â osamu says, gesturing towards you, âthis is yn.â itâs almost weird for your name to come out of his mouth. he doesnât say it very often. sure, he does say it, but he doesnât use it to get your attention and when he does refer to you, itâs not usually in front of you, so you donât normally hear it.Â
ânice to meetcha,â suna says, awkward smile and even more awkward body language as he steps further into atsumuâs apartment. âyou work at the restaurant?â he asks, and you know that he knows the answer to that question, but heâs just trying to make polite conversation, and you do appreciate it. you nod. âcool cool,â he nods back.
you already feel like youâre failing at socializing, that osamu is regretting inviting you in the first place, but then he starts talking, conversation directed towards you. âyea, the other day at work, this weird ass guy came in and was practically hitting on you while he was ordering,â he says, practically starting a story, and it works.
âoh my gosh, yea,â you say, nodding as you follow suna into the living room, âhe was ordering different dishes, but changing words in the titles to, like, make them pick up lines?â
suna laughs, furrowing his eyebrows, âhow does that even work?â
âwell, thatâs what i was thinking, right,â you say, âbut he was really creative, i donât even remember what he was saying, all i remember was that my first thought wasnât even oh this is weird, it was how long has he been thinking of this or is he a genius?âÂ
âwell, what happened?â suna asks.
âi basically called samu over pretending to be confused about what he was ordering because i really wanted him to hear what-,â you say and as youâre explaining, suna walks into the kitchen.Â
âkeep going, iâm listening,â he calls out.
âoh, yeah, so, samu came over and the guy just starts talking completely normal again and i even tried to call him out on it, like, repeated one of what he said before back to him and-,â you say as suna returns, three beers impressively held in one hand, one in another, reaching out and offering it to you. âthanks, -and he just looked at me like i was the weird one.â
suna passes one of the remaining beers to osamu and sets another next to sakusa who is sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone. âthatâs insane,â he says, shaking his head, âso weird.â
âreally weird,â you agree.Â
âi always feel like thereâs weird shit happeninâ over there at oni-,â suna says, but is cut off.
âhey! the star employee,â atsumu calls out as he enters into the living room and the loudness of his voice and the forwardness of his statement is unintentionally making you feel small very quickly.Â
osamu rests his hand on your lower back, a silent signifier of the promise he made to you in the restaurant when he asked you to come, that he wonât leave your side.Â
âhey atsumu,â you say, only attention given to his comment a small laugh at the end of his name, âthanks for having me.â
âi told samu that he should invite you over, hang out with you outside of work finally,â atsumu says, flopping onto the couch next to sakusa, arm flung around him, pressed up against his side, very in his space. âisnât that right, omi?â
âthe only good piece of advice i think youâve ever given,â sakusa says, deadpanned, but the corners of his lips curl upwards when suna chokes on his drink and throws a thumbs up his way.Â
âthatâs a point for kiyoomi,â suna calls out, âif weâre all keeping score at home, thatâs kiyoomi 162 and atsumu 1.â
atsumu sits forward, âthatâs because you guys never give me well deserved points. what about the other night when i said that really funny thing and then i was like see thatâs point worthy? and then you guys said-â
ânot if ya ask for it,â osamu says, âthatâs the most basic rule and has cost ya so many points, but ya still keep askinâ for em.â
âif he doesnât ask for em, howâll you guys know when heâs being funny?â you joke and the instant that it leaves your mouth, youâre so worried that it wonât land or that itâs too mean, but sakusa chuckles and suna laughs even louder than before and osamu smiles proudly.Â
âthatâs a point, thatâs gotta be a point,â suna says, nodding, head looking back from sakusa to osamu. sakusa nods shortly and thatâs enough for suna to laugh even harder. âtsumu, youâre tied for second, but sheâs gonna surpass you before the nightâs over i bet.â
osamu nods over to the couch as atsumu starts yelling at suna. he walks over with you and sits down next to you, arm draped over the top of the couch, just barely ghosting over your shoulders, and all you want to do is lean your weight into his side, but instead you stay upright, rigid almost as you hold the bag of onigiris in your hands.Â
sakusa spots the bag as it drags on the floor, looks down at it and then raises his eyebrows at you. âyou brought gifts?â he asks and you offer him the bag, leaning forward to hand it over. âthanks,â he offers, instantly rooting around to find his favorite and tearing it open.
âdonât get rice on the rug,â atsumu says, interrupting his argument with suna, clicking his tongue.Â
âfuck off,â sakusa answers, biting into the onigiri again.Â
âlook, at least eat it over a plate,â atsumu complains, standing up and walking into the kitchen to grab a few small plates. he hands one to sakusa and another to suna, grabbing the bag from sakusaâs feet and throwing it to sunaâs.Â
atsumu is starting to seem less and less scary.Â
/\ /\ /\
halfway through the night, atsumu is walking around picking up little pieces of trash and dishes that sakusa or suna have left, complaining loudly at every single one. âyou guys are horrible guests, yâknow that? yaâd think that iâd have ya over enough times and yaâd start cleaning up after yourself.â
sakusa and suna and osamu all ignore atsumuâs complaining while heâs in the living room, but the second that he disappears into the kitchen itâs more direct, âsamu!!!!! come help me with the dishes,â atsumu yells.Â
âdumbass, itâs your party, you clean up,â osamu yells back.
âyou always help me with the dishes,â atsumu whines.Â
he refuses to leave you alone. he made a promise. and you love having him here, sitting on the loveseat with you across from suna and omi, but theyâre talking to you and they are, indeed, much calmer than atsumu, not that you thought heâd lie to you, and youâre enjoying your conversation a lot. âyou go ahead,â you say, steady look thrown his way to prove how truthful youâre being and he hears it all loud and clear. he nods, smiling, leaving the three of you alone in the living room.
/\ /\ /\
a bit later in the night and the only two people in the living room are you and osamu, but there isnât any space to show for it. youâre pressed up against each other, legs draped over his thighs, practically in his lap, pointing at the frames on atsumuâs walls and the photos inside of them and the stories behind them, finishing whatever number beer this is.Â
you donât even really remember getting into this position. it was either gradual enough to not notice the shift little by little or the change felt so natural there wasnât a before and after, only a now. your spine is pressed up against the arm rest, backs of your thighs resting on the upper tops of his, your hand resting on the grasp he has on your knee, and the way that youâre pressed together isnât even the most intimate thing about the two of you right now.
because osamu has been telling you a story for the past twenty minutes about the first year that he opened onigiri miya. you knew the jist of it, the broad strokes, the big details. you knew numbers and dates and first recipes, but hearing about his soft open and how his regulars became regulars felt much more telling.Â
you didnât know about his somewhat rocky start or the fear of taking out a loan to fund this dream of his or how terrified he is of failing to this day, but you do now.Â
when he tells you, his voice is steady, genuine, and his eyes are comforting and grateful, and everything about the way that he speaks lets you know for certain that he isnât just telling this story to everybody. as he finishes, patches up all of the gaps in the story that he skipped over and any details that he might have missed, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his bicep. you rest your head on his shoulder, tucking your feet underneath you, knees resting on the side of his thigh, and he exhales, kisses you softly on the top of your head and says, âthanks for listeninâ, angel.â
you turn to look at him, to rest your palm against his cheek, to thank him for telling you, but you donât get that far, startled by the loud yell in the kitchen.
âyouâre fucking so dumb,â suna laughs, the metalic sound of keys jingling follows, gets louder and louder until sakusa and suna and atsumu all emerge to pass through the living room to the front door.Â
âidiot hosted a party and ran out of beer,â suna explains to the two of you as he pushes atsumu towards the front door, âweâre headed out for a refill. need anything?â youâre increasingly grateful that no one, not even atsumu, has made mention of how entangled the two of you are on the couch.
âare ya sure youâre okay to drive?â osamu asks, look thrown over his shoulder to atsumu.
âomiâs drivinâ,â atsumu says, pressing an obnoxious kiss into the side of his cheek, âonly had like 2 beers all night, first one was hours ago.â
âiâm cool,â sakusa says, nodding, and osamu doesnât press a single second more, evidently trusting him.Â
âsee ya in a bit,â atsumu calls out, back towards you, waving as the door is pulled open and suna and sakusa leave in front of him.Â
when the front door closes, despite the alcohol in your bloodstream clouding your thoughts a tiny bit, the realization hits both of you that you are alone, off work, not at work, and you both really love the way that the spots on your skin in contact with one another feel. you donât say a word, let the silence settle in, too occupied with your own thoughts to try and formulate them into sentences, too worried about whatever might be going on in osamuâs head.Â
his touch pulls you out of it, a gentle finger coaxing you to look up in his direction, dull nails scraping against your jaw, thumb nudging your chin, and this is the first time that a moment like this isnât brought on the forwardness of your words. you melt against his warmth, push your cheek into his palm, turn your head and kiss his thumb. thereâs no timer counting down in your head, no rushing to get this moment over with in time, even though there maybe should be some urgency, you just want to be here, present.
he moves you slowly, but confidently, reaching over to guide you by your hips until youâre seated in his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs. this position is so new for the two of you, you on top, him looking up at you, the softness of cushions beneath you.Â
you wrap your hands around the back of his head, thread your fingers into his hair, pull down gently on the locks until his neck is completely stretched, lips are as close to you as they can be without you having to move. he looks so pretty, waiting, expectant, patient, needy. you like this position very much.Â
the slight pressure where your fists reside in his hair, this faint lost look in your eyes from having this tiny inkling of control, the weight of you in his lap, how your head tilts back as you pull his back, mirroring the motion youâre trying to achieve. you look so pretty, trying, out of your comfort zone, longing, restless. he likes this position even more.
he tugs you forward, shifts your balance, and youâre crashing into him, arm reaching out to brace yourself on the back of the loveseat, face inches from his. all he has to do to close the gap is sit up. your lips are soft, kiss is hard, and you shift your arms to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him deeper into you.Â
you feel like a teenager, kissing your crush on a living room sofa, giddy and sappy and smiling as he wraps his arms around your lower back to press you closer into him. you smooth your hands down his chest, his stomach, press your fingertips into the inside of his thighs, nails scratching against the fabric of his jeans.Â
âmissed you a lot, samu,â you admit, forehead against his for a tiny breath break.Â
âand i missed ya even more, love,â he shoots back, one peck pressed into your lips and then another. âi donât think i can wait this long to kiss ya again.â
you shake your head against his, âplease, donât.â you kiss him again, more passionate, breathless. you need him to feel how much you need this, how badly you need for him to not leave you alone for this long again. âpromise me,â you mumble against your plea.Â
âpromise,â he says, pulling away to look up into your eyes, âwasnât planninâ on it.â you claw your fingers into his thighs harder and osamu bucks his hips up into you at the touch, a soft groan leaving his chest, a knowing smile on his lips in response to your devilish one.Â
âweâre right by the front door,â osamu warns, leaning into the crook of your neck, kisses placed against soft skin, fingers molding around your hips, dipping down the back of your skirt.
âyouâre strong,â you reason, half-joking, âyou can fix that.â
one second you are on the couch and the next second, you are not. you are in osamuâs arms, tiny squeal as he lifts you effortlessly and walks with you down the hallway. when he pushes open a door with your back and sets you down, itâs not nearly as plush as youâre anticipating it being. you let out a small laugh, shaking your head.Â
âyou really want to fuck in your brotherâs bathroom?â you ask, curious, but impatient smile on your face.
âyou really want to fuck in my brotherâs bed?â he shoots back. osamuâs laugh tells you everything that you need to know, an easy nudge that just says, trust me, and you donât have to walk down the hall and take a peek into atsumuâs bedroom or have osamu spell out all of the reasons that he thinks fucking in the guest bathroom is a better idea.Â
itâs clean, really clean actually. neatly decorated, virtually untouched. small, sure, but you and samu donât need an oceanâs worth of space, the two of you could make do in a stall. the glass of the shower is residue-less and the white solo-standing sink across from it is practically sparkling. the window is slightly cracked and the carpet on the floor in the middle of the room is soft.Â
âyea,â you lean forward after a minute of surveying the area, hopping down off of the edge of the sink, âyouâre right.â you rest your forearms on his shoulders, fingers clasped behind his neck, pulling him into you.Â
you canât move osamu like he can move you, not even close. you pull on his neck, one hand on his shoulder, trying as best you can to wordlessly guide him into the position that you want him to be in, but heâs too engrossed in kissing you, in feeling your soft lips and tasting you. if the roles were reversed, youâd already be turned around right now, moved with strong hands in steady positions, but youâre struggling to silently communicate that you want him to be up against the sink right now.Â
âsamu,â you whine against his lips, forehead pressed against his and now heâs kissing your pout, âlemme move you.â
oh my god, if he couldnât have snapped right there, kissed you until you couldnât breathe, fucked you until you couldnât walk, given you everything in the entire world, every last grain of sand and drop of water, told you that he loved you or that he needed you or just that he wanted you to stick around forever. instead, he nods, canât hide his smile as he moves in the soft direction of your pull, focuses on your gentle coaxing touch.Â
he moves until the pressure stops, your hands drifting down his chest and then his sides, palms digging into his hips, driving his lower back against the sink that you were just sitting on. osamu doesnât ask any questions, isnât the slightest bit curious as to why youâre moving him or what you have in store. he can see it in your eyes and your assured movements, the unfolding of desires and plans, and heâs very happy to just be along for the ride.
youâre slow to lower to your knees, even slower to place your fingers on his belt, ghosting touch skimming over the leather and against the cool metal buckle. osamu is filling in everything in his head, swallows harshly before a shaky exhale, âfuck.â
you look up at him with doe-like eyes, happy for once to be the one seeing the ruin in his lust-blown eyes and the anticipation on his face. âhavenât been able to get the feeling out of my head,â you say, eye contact steady as you pull his jeans down over his thighs, watch him watch you as you inch closer to his heavy cock, jaw falling open and his eyebrows furrowing in response. âof your cock on my tongue.â his response comes in whimpers and tensing forearms and a tighter grip on the edge of the sink.
fuck, he looks so pretty waiting like this, trusting you like this, hips pressing forward the slightest fraction just to get that much closer to your lips. his lips are slightly parted, bottom one moving with every unsteady exhale, a subtle blush in the highs of his cheeks. you canât tear your eyes away from him, not as you take his drooling head into your mouth, slide the underside of his cock against your hot tongue.
âangel, fuck,â he grunts, âmouthâs so perfect.â he wants to touch you, to grab you by your hair and sink deeper into your mouth, but your hands are soft on his hips, fingers tucked up the hem of his shirt so he can feel your nails scraping against the skin, and youâre being so slow and so caring and savoring every drop of precome and twitch of his cock.Â
his knuckles are practically white, all restraint shown in the grip he has on the edge, because your mouth feels so warm and so wet and so good, but it feels even better knowing that youâre taking care of him in exactly the way you want.
you wrap your lips around his head, tongue laving over the slit and spongy tip, spit and precome gathering in your mouth, swallowing as you take more of him. your lips get tighter as you swallow, tongue slips against his length. itâs harder to focus the deeper you take him, the further his fat cock causes your jaw to open, the farther his thick head hits the back of your throat. moving your head back and forth on his throbbing cock, the image of him blurring as you move faster, but youâre determined to watch him unravel even heavier.
heâs leaving it completely up to you, the pace and the depth, and itâs so different for him to give up control and just let you do exactly what you want to him, but he misses the feeling of some part of you in his hands. itâs like you can read his mind, eyes flickering to his uneasy hands itching to feel something much more human underneath them. you slide your hands down his tense forearms, moving one to the side of your face and threading your fingers in the other. he doesnât take advantage of this, this closeness to your mouth and your movements, only curls his dull nails against your warm skin.
you hum at the touch, vibration from your throat sending shivers up his spine, and if he watches you care for him so sweetly just another second longer heâs not going to be able to stop himself from coming down your throat.Â
âsweetheart,â he mumbles, low and whiney. you hear him, but you donât want to, too enveloped in the heft on your tongue and the fullness of your throat and the familiar taste. he mumbles again, tapping two fingers gently against your cheek to get your attention, âbunny, hey.â
the air is cool compared to your encompassing mouth and tight throat, and osamu silently curses himself for saying anything at all. âhm?â you ask, side of your palm coming up to your bottom lip to wipe away the gathering sheen. he pulls you back up to your feet, hand strong on the back of your thigh as he presses you against him, heavy cock nudging into the fabric of the skirt between your legs.Â
his lips skim yours, not completely a kiss, as he speaks, âyâknow what i canât get out of my head, doll?â you shake your head, pleading eyes flickering to his lips, hanging onto every word, âhow pretty you looked on top of me earlier.â the whimper this elicits from you drives osamu mad, large hand spanning your other cheek as he pulls you into a deep kiss, moving with you to the floor.Â
sitting with you in his lap, one knee bracketing either side of his hips, osamu is now very grateful for the stupidly expensive, surprisingly soft rug that he failed to convince his brother not to buy. the heel of the palm of your hand on his sternum drives him down to the floor, looking even more up at you now as you circle your hips, rubbing the thin cloth of your panties against his leaking exposed cock. âlike this?â you ask, breathy and somewhat timid to be in control despite the fact that osamu was patient putty in your hands mere seconds ago.
he nods, hair messy against the rug beneath him, and you can only assume that another part of your slight discomfort is that, sure, youâve had sex with osamu in bathrooms, more times than you shouldâve to be honest, but youâve never had sex with osamu lying on a bathroom floor, and for some reason, this feels even more filthy than any times before.Â
but osamu rests his hand on your thigh, pushes the fabric of your skirt up so that he can look down at the dark spot on your panties and the way they bunch and tighten as you slide your covered pussy against his throbbing length, bucks his hips up into you, lifting you off of the ground just enough to make you gasp, and yea, no, this feels incredibly right.Â
you brace yourself on his sternum, lift yourself up slightly to move your panties to the side, no patience or want to climb off of him and take your panties completely off, you want him inside of you right now. âcould eat you out so good like this,â osamu says, eyes drifting up your body before settling on yours.Â
you shake your head. you want him inside of you right now. ânext time,â you mutter, sinking down onto him slowly, inch by inch, and it just keeps fucking going. you tilt your head back, chin to the sky so that your moans have a better path to leave you. âsamu, baby, fuck.â
when youâre finally seated completely on your cock, itâs like you can feel it in your stomach and in your throat, youâre so fucking full, heâs so fucking deep inside of you, you can barely fucking take it. youâre whimpering, tiny tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you babble, âfuck, i- youâre, mmm,â you shake your head, hand frantic to interlock with his as you circle your hips, not wanting to be without a single inch, âsamu, fuck, so deep, youâre- iâm- i canât- youâre so fucking deep inside of me, baby.â
he can barely take it either, so deep inside of your tight, clenching walls, completely surrounding him. every one of your tiny movements, every shift and circle and squirm, forces him to show restraint. he loves this view, this feeling, will continue to wait as you get adjusted and continue your fucked out babble no matter how badly he wants to flip you over and fuck you as hard as he can until youâre squirting all over the rug beneath you. âi know,â he chokes out, âi know, babygirl, i know.â
when you start to move, itâs nothing drastic, miniscule movements that donât require much effort, pushing your hips forward, pulling them back, leaning towards osamu, tilting away. you can feel him move inside of you, but he stays this deep. all the while, youâre slurring nothing to him, tidbits of gratitude and cries of pet names, and if youâre this ruined already from this little, god he canât wait until youâve reduced yourself to tears, until he has to pick up the pieces and coax you through orgasm after orgasm.Â
he presses his fingertips into the fat of your hips, helping you along, picking you up a tiny bit more every time until youâre forced to follow the motion, pushing up onto your knees and letting yourself fall back down, skin clapping harshly against the tops of his thighs. you push his shirt up, desperate to feel the tiny prickles of sweat forming on his soft stomach and his heartbeat against your palm closer. every crash back down, a tiny exhale expelled from your lungs, out your quivering lips, so fucking cute.
âgoinâ so slow, angel,â he says, not an objection or an issue, tone steady and in awe, practically an admiration. you nod at his words, barely any room in your head for them amidst the so full so full so deep so fucking full and deep and so full so deep inside hes so deep inside of me im so full of him.Â
your thighs are starting to shake, barely even breaking a sweat, but your core is tight and you can feel how sloppy you are around him and how all of your juices are dripping down his cock, can hear the sticky sound of slapping skin when you fall back onto him, and, ââm so- gonna-,â you whine, âsamu,â you whine louder, fat tears falling down your cheeks because you want more, need more, but you can barely even think straight, âplease.â
he loves looking up at you, so pretty and needy, wouldnât trade it for the world, so heâll give you everything you want from down here. he drives his hips upwards, hands on your hips to move you against the weight of gravity as best he can. heâs barely even started fucking you when you tighten around him, flooding even more, soaking his cock, a throaty, âcomingâ matched with your eyes rolling back, fist forming around the fabric of his shirt.Â
you reach out, bracing yourself on the edge of the sink, other hand plastered against the glass of the shower door as bounce up and down on his cock. your movements are unpredictable, not as steady as his thrusts nor as rhythmic, but driven by instinct and whatever you think you need right now.Â
âwanna-,â osamu says, looking up at you, out of breath, pushing up the hem of your shirt to expose your stomach, âhave to see your tits, pretty girl.âÂ
your shirt is gone, bra undone, and as you continue moving yourself up and down on his cock, you realize this is the most undressed youâve ever been fucking osamu. youâre not sure exactly how that makes you feel, but you figure youâll have time to deal with the feelings later, because right now, osamu canât keep his hands off you and youâre newly exposed skin.
heâs running his hands up your sides, hands groping your bouncing tits as they follow the quick, harsh movements that osamu is causing. his thumbs flick over your nipples, fingers dig into the fat, and he really canât believe heâs never gotten to play with your tits before.Â
you can feel him everywhere, under the backs of your thighs and deep inside of you and over your chest and youâre coming again, clenching around him, grip tight around the sink as your thighs shake even harder, your movements weaker, slower, doll-like, as osamu fucks into you faster.
youâve barely come down from your high before youâre ready to come again, thick cock splitting you open, hitting the deepest parts of you, filling you so perfectly. youâre so tight around him. you can feel every single throb, every strong pulse, and when osamu sits up, braces himself on his arm behind him, pulls your chest into his face with a gentle hand on your shoulder, you canât help but cream all over his cock again, his name falling off of your tongue repeatedly.Â
he canât fucking take it, how tight your walls are, how creamy youâre making his cock, how sticky the tops of his thighs are. âprincess,â he says, a warning, âwhere do you want it?âÂ
âon my-,â you breathe, you know exactly where you want it, âwant it on my pussy.â
âfuck,â he says, shaky, âof course, baby, fuck.â he pushes forward further, creates a gap between the two of you as he leans you back, making sure that youâre able to brace yourself in the same way that he is before letting go of your lower back. he pulls out of you, thick cock resting on your sloppy pussy, hips bucking to slide the underside against your sensitive clit and soft skin.
he wraps his fist around his cock and you watch in awe, pupils wide as you stare down at his tight grip around his throbbing length, the way his thumb swipes over the head as he gets to the top. you reach forward, wrapping your own smaller hand around his cock. heâs so thick, so weighty in your hand, and every pump of his cock coaxes a throaty grunt out of osamu, eyes floating from place to place, on your cute hand around his fat cock, on your pretty tongue swiping over your bottom lip, on your bouncing tits as you stroke him faster.Â
if it hadnât been so long since heâd fucked you last, heâd have forced himself to last all night, just to watch you jerk him off all night, until your arm got so tired that he had to take over for you and all you could do was watch or use your other hand, awkward movements and slower pace, but different grip to get used to.Â
another time, he thinks to himself as he thrusts up into your hand slightly, spilling over the side of your fist, thick load leaking out of the tip of his cock and onto your already messy pussy, creamy ropes landing on the insides of your thighs and on top of your pretty cunt and cute clit. you lean back, fingers still wrapped around his cock loosely as you use your other hand to smear his come between your legs, mixing his mess with yours before sticking your fingers into your mouth.Â
your fingers are barely out of your mouth as osamu kisses you, hard, so hard that he nearly knocks you backwards, sitting up onto his knees to angle your head up towards him. he wants to tell you so bad, wants to say fuck it to all the voices in his head and the fear in his bones and just admit it to you. the look in your eyes when you pull away doesnât make it any easier.Â
but your hoarse voice and your giddy smile and your shy, âshould probably clean up before they get back, huh?â pulls him out of it. he laughs, short and airy, presses another small peck into your lips because he can, and then helps you to your feet.Â
âmaybe one day weâll be able to, like, actually clean up with a shower or something instead of just,â you gesture to the toilet paper in his hand, âthis everytime.â
osamu smiles, grabbing your shirt in the corner of the room and extending it to you. âmaybe that one day could-â
you didnât hear the key in the lock or the door open, but you do hear atsumu throw his shoes against the wall and very loudly call out, âweâre baaack.â you look at osamu because youâre not sure what to do, half dressed, still a mess, rug undealt with and very loud evidence of something happening in the guest bathroom.Â
âitâs so late, why are you being so loud,â suna retorts. you can hear the three sets of footsteps as they move in the opposite direction towards the living room.Â
âwhere are they?â sakusa asks, and now you can hear the footsteps spread out, all beginning to look in different areas of the apartment, bags set down on coffee tables, doors opened.Â
âhow do we play this?â you ask, eyebrows furrowed, chewing on your lip thoughtfully, and osamu wants to just forget about making a smart plan and stay here and fuck you again instead or maybe just kiss you until everybody leaves or falls asleep. âsamu,â you say, waving your hand in front of his face, âdo you want your brother to know we had sex in his bathroom?â
no, no he most definitely does not. he shakes his head, thinking just as hard as you are on a good solution, on maybe sending you out first or walking out together quickly and hoping they donât notice where youâve come from or sneaking out of the window perhaps. you throw your shirt back on, straighten out your skirt, clean yourself up as best you can as osamu continues cycling through plans in his mind.
âthey fuckinâ bolt?â suna asks, probably in the kitchen or atsumuâs room, you canât quite place the footsteps.Â
âmaybe a good night for samu,â atsumu jokes, and you can hear the pop of a can opening and a soft oof as he throws himself onto the couch, unbothered now by wherever the two of you have gone.
âfuck off, miya,â sakusa sighs. âprobably just left because they didnât want to be around you anymore. wish i fuckinâ could.â
âanother point for omi, count it,â suna says.
âwhat?â atsumu laughs, breezing past the taunts thrown in his direction, âiâm just sayinâ it must be nice to have an employee fuck buddy.â
your heart is thumping louder, harsher. you feel trapped in more ways than one, deeper than just not knowing how youâll leave or get home, but in your own mind. youâre not looking at osamu now, embarrassment spreading through your entire body, showing evident on your face and in your shrinking posture.Â
âyou fucking serious?â suna asks, âyou think theyâre stillâŚ?â
âcâmon, heâs gone, fuck you think they went?â atsumu jokes, and you wish his words werenât as firm or loud or correct.Â
âi never said that,â osamu says, quietly enough to not breach the barrier of the door, âiâve never called you that, or said anything like that, i sw-.â
âi should probably go,â you say, not hearing or not listening to whatever osamu is saying right now. it didnât really matter what osamu said or didnât say, itâs the perception that you didnât want skewed in the first place, and here it was, twisted and contorted and confirming your biggest fears about falling for osamu as you did.Â
âwait,â osamu says, hand reaching out to softly wrap around your wrist and as comforting as the touch is, as much as you want to melt into it or ask for more, you wriggle out of his grasp. âhey,â he says, softer now, just trying to get your attention. âhow do you think youâre going to get home?â he asks.
âiâll just get an uber or something, i donât know,â your voice is shaky, weak, confused, hurt.
âno,â osamu says, taking a step closer to you, âno, you wonât. iâll drive you back.â you shake your head. surviving an entire car ride with osamu after hearing whatever atsumu just said seems like an impossible feat.Â
you donât want to leave, but you donât want to stay here. you canât listen to another word, donât want them to continue speaking or hear what else atsumu thinks of you. you donât want to face them, god, you donât want to face them, but hearing the rest of this conversation seems somehow even worse. you turn, opening the door to the bathroom, face warm and palms sweating as you take a step out into the hallway.Â
osamu moves to grab your hand, to pull you back in, to just talk to you for a minute, but the second that youâre in the hallway, despite how badly you just wanted to quietly tiptoe to the front door undetected, youâre noticed. âshit,â suna says, under his breath, but loud enough for everyone to understand the gravity of the situation.
âthanks for having me,â you say, not looking at anyone, not directing the sentence towards anybody, shoes slipped on quickly, door opened quickly, and bounding down apartment stairs as you hear your name being called from behind you.Â
the commotion behind you starts, an âare you fucking kidding me?â muffled by the closed door, rushed footsteps down the hall, and then the noises of the apartment becoming louder as the door is opened once more. youâre outside by the time osamu calls your name again.Â
the instant breath of fresh air that fills your lungs is already calming your nerves, sending signals to your brain that itâs okay to start sobbing, the wind will dry your tears. youâre grateful that you donât listen right away, that it takes a few seconds for your muscles to catch up with your thoughts, because the door flings open behind you, a huff of breaths following the sound of it closing, and jogging footsteps running to catch up with the distance youâve created.
âwait,â osamu says, but you donât stop, not sure you could even if you wanted to. you donât know where youâre going or why you wonât just stop and talk to him, but you keep walking, one foot in front of the other down uneven pavement. âyn, wait, please,â he calls again, voice closer, projecting over urban noises and passing cars. when his fingers wrap around your wrist, the feeling of warmth and the beat of your pulse in his hand scream louder than anything youâve heard tonight.Â
you turn around and the thoughts and signals have caught up with you, blurry vision amidst a lash line of tears, and you wait. youâre grateful for the distortion, for the unclear picture of osamu standing there, face solemn and unsure how to proceed, how not to lose you, and you canât wait anymore, âfuck, samu, what are we? what is this?â
the words are tumbling out of you now, every worry and clouded judgement from the moment you walked through the doors of onigiri miya, âfucking one time in a club before i even worked there, thatâs fine,â you shake your head, pulling your wrist out of his grasp softly, âfucking once at work after close, okay maybe less fine. fucking in a hotel bathroom in the middle of a catering shift? definitely crossing a line there.â you list off your endeavors, remembering them all perfectly well.
ânow, weâve just fucked in your brotherâs bathroom, off the clock and not work related. and your brother referred to me as an employee fuck buddy,â you say, chest aching as the phrases leaves you, âi mean, am i? what is this?â
he doesnât leave you waiting for an explanation, doesnât speak over you, heâs kind and attentive like that. âi never called you that. i never said that about you, yn.â
âfuck, samu, it doesnât matter,â you say, though you suppose itâs a slight lie. the weight on your shoulders and your chest is a bit lighter now, but not entirely gone, âthatâs how they see me.â
âthey donât even know about any of those times after we knew each other, only the first time, only that first night,â he explains, but theyâre not the right words. theyâre soothing some anxieties in you, but not the right ones, but you donât know which anxieties are the right ones.Â
you close your eyes or turn your head, it doesnât really matter, you just canât see him. itâs dark outside and you canât focus on much despite there not being much to focus on, and your voice snags as you say, âif i wouldnât have made a big deal about this,â you swallow, even softer now, âwould we have left that bathroom and skated around the idea of fucking each other until something snapped?âÂ
the tears have breached your lash line, have fallen down the inner corner, dripped off of your chin and onto your shirt below. âand what?â you laugh, âthen weâd just repeat the cycle again? and then again? and iâd never be anything other than your employee fuck buddy, i mean fuck, samu, come on.â your voice is desperate now, cracking and confused, and heâs just standing there, patient and listening.Â
âitâs never been about how you view me or how you feel about me,â you shrug, back of your hand smearing tears and mascara against your cheekbones. âor it has, but just,â you groan, frustrated, âi know you care about me somewhat or in cyclical doses, iâve never doubted that, i just want to know that even though you havenât called me that, thatâs not what you think of me too?â
âof course not,â osamu says, instant and assured. he reaches out again. you let him this time, cup the side of your face, wipe the few remaining tears, pull you closer to him, but not into him, thereâs a difference. he just wants you to look at him. âiâm sorry,â he says, eyes darting around your face, not knowing where to land, âi didnât mean to make it this difficult. i was trying to be respectful and do it right and-,â he takes a deep breath, âall i want is to be with you.â
he continues on, voice soft and thick, soothing all of the right anxieties, âiâve been thinking about you nonstop since that night at the hotel and i swear to god if we stayed another night, i wouldâve spent it with you in my bed, in my arms, but we left and i didnât- we didnât-â he takes another deep breath, talks softer now, a tiny scoff preceding his words, âitâd be easier if i could just kiss ya right now.â
youâre nodding because heâs right and because your shoulders feel light enough for you to do that now and because everything that heâs saying is the everything you want to hear, but thatâs not the reason heâs saying it. âno oneâs stopping you,â you breathe.
you donât have to meet him halfway, he comes to you. presses his lips against yours, snakes his other hand up to the other side of your face and holds you still as he takes a step into you, body close, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you even closer if he can.Â
he pulls away, breathless and the question is already leaving his lips before theyâre off yours, âcan i take you out?â
your first instinct is to laugh, and you do, because you know his schedule and his next planned night off. âyou? get a night off?â you scoff, shaking your head, âwho are you going to have close for you? me?â
he laughs, huge grin accompanying it because itâs so easy when youâre around, âno, no, iâll figure something out,â he breathes, shaking his head harder, âit doesnât matter, all that matters is that you say yes and that i get to take you out on a date, a real date, and then we get to do real date things, and after date real date things.â
your laugh is louder now, lowering your head into his shoulder as you joke, âi donât know if i can get the weekend off. my jobâs pretty important to me.â
he kisses you again, absolutely beaming as he pulls away. âplease just say yes so that i can start making plans.â when the joking fades and youâre standing there under shitty streetlight and nonexistent moonlight and you can see the seriousness in his kind eyes, you donât want to keep fucking around, you just want to say yes.
you want to cross the boundary of hooking up and weird feelings and move forward to kissing at work and carpooling home together. you want to break this cycle and start new ones, ones with less confusion and more domesticity. you want definitions and declarations and dates and labels.
âalright, alright, yes, god,â you say, furrowing your eyebrows, waiting a beat before taking a breath and then his face into your hands to place a soft kiss onto his nose. âi would really love to go out with you finally.â
seconds pass and then minutes and osamu is just happy to be out here on the sidewalk with you in his arms kissing you every other second, and youâre just happy to finally be in a place where you donât have to worry about the next time you get to kiss osamu again.
youâre the one that breaks the silence, a soft smile on your face unmatching the tone of your sentence, giggly and giddy and somehow just as needy. âcanât believe iâll get to fuck you in a real bed.â
youâre expecting some form of scoff or laugh or half-joke or disbelief, but he grins at you, drags his lips against the side of your face, and says low in your ear, âi know, angel, canât wait.â
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â MAKE IT RIGHT THIS TIME
PAIRING â Erik Lehnsherr x fem!Mutant!Reader
SUMMARY â Youâre a teacher at Charlesâ school where you live with your daughter but the life youâre living is far from what you want it to be. After a disagreement with Charles about your role in his institution, you pay your husband a visit. Maybe thereâs still a chance to make the things right.
AUTHORâS NOTE â I wanted to write it for MONTHS ??? and I finally did in one sitting and Iâm so proud of myself! I know that not many people are into XâMen fics anymore (???) but honestly, I just had to write it and get it out of my system đ Itâs based very very loosely on the plot of the movies and takes place more less when Dark Phoenixâs plot is. Readerâs mutation is NOT specified.
WORD COUNT â 3,150
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
MAKE IT RIGHT THIS TIME
Raven was pissed. You knew her long enough to see it in her eyes and the way her fingers twitched nervously now and then. Everyone focused on Jane after the weird incident in outer space but from the corner of your eye, you could see Ravenâs anger. And you were observing her because you were pissed, too. You knew she would be on the same page with you.
Risking your life for Charles was supposed to be over now. You didnât sign up for any of that â tight, pathetic superheroâs suit and journalists taking pictures of you leaving the ship, asking you questions; all the sensation and headlines. You never wanted to be a hero. You just wanted to be with your people â with other mutants â safe and happy. You wanted peace.
Charles mostly cared about his schoolâs PR in front of the humans and it was exhausting. It was nothing like you had been imagining your life to be. Especially now, when you had so much to lose.
Raven went to Charlesâ office to argue with him but you didnât join her. You had your disagreements in the past but you knew she was tough enough to do it without your backup and you were needed somewhere else anyway.
You passed a bunch of kids â your students â congratulating you on the staircase.
âThat was so cool, Mrs. Lehnsherr!â some boyâs cheeks blushed as he gasped like he was choking on air. You faked a kind smile at him.
You didnât want him to think that risking your life for Charles was something admirable. You didnât want to raise these kids to be superheroes. You just wanted them to be mutants capable of controlling their forces; future adults feeling comfortable in their own skin.
âThank you, darling,â you whispered before opening the wooden door and disappearing inside the room. You took a deep breath out of relief when all the outside noise became muffled behind the door.
âMum!â a young girlâs voice whined and you smiled at the girl laying on the bed. She took her headphones off and pouted at you, âYou havenât knocked!â she scolded you.
Edie was eight years old now â big enough to want her privacy and you hated that. Not because you didnât want her to have her own space but because you hated to see her so grown up. You wished her to stay little forever like she was when she was two or three, giggling in her fatherâs arms when he was throwing her in the air in the kitchen.
You smiled sadly at the memory.
âIâm sorry, Edie. I had to hide from them as fast as I could,â you sighed and sat on the edge of her bed. She turned off her walkman and put the headphones away. âWhy werenât you waiting for me downstairs? I couldnât wait to see your face.â
âYou know why, mum,â she sniffled and you furrowed your brows before looking at her face. Then you spotted the dried out tears on her cheeks.
âOh, Edie,â you gasped before pulling her closer and hugging her tight. She pressed her face to your chest and you hid your face in her hair before kissing the top of her head. âMummy will always come back to you, little Edie.â
Edie hated you going on missions. She was terrified that you wouldnât come back to her. She often refused to watch anything related to them on TV (which was difficult) and she would just sit in her room and block out the noise with her headphones.
âIâm back, Iâm fine,â you caressed her back.
âI know that you all almost died today. I was nervous and I changed the radio station to news,â she admitted and sobbed as her small body trembled in your arms. Your heart broke.
âI promise I wonât ever go again,â you bit on your lower lip as your eyes filled with tears, too.
âYou always say that and then uncle Charles asks you for one last favour.â
You didnât answer her. She was right.
âI miss dad,â she added and you froze at that.
âI miss him, too,â you only admitted, almost inaudibly.
âWhy canât we be with him?â Edie looked up to meet your gaze. You caressed her wet cheeks and sighed.
âYou know why, Edie. Itâs not the kind of life Iâd want for us.â
âAnd this is?â she asked innocently but once again there was no answer from you.
You just didnât know what to say.
âYou can visit your dad tomorrow. How about that?â you proposed to make her feel better and she nodded eagerly while giving you a wide smile.
âYouâre driving too fast, mum,â Edie giggled and her voice brought you back to reality. You slowed down immediately after realising that she had been right.
âIâm sorry,â you sighed. âIâm angry.â
âBecause weâre going to see daddy?â
âNo. I had a fight with uncle Charles this morning,â you admitted.
âAbout yesterday?â
âYes,â you nodded but refused to share the details. Edie was too young to be burdened with things like that.
âDo you think dadâs gonna like my new trick?â she grinned at you, playing with the metal balls inside her hand. She had recently learnt how to make them float in all sorts of ways and even change their shape. Sometimes it was funny and sometimes it was visually beautiful.
âI think heâs gonna love it,â you assured her and parked the car on the roadside near the trailer park where Erik and his followers lived.
Of course he refused to call them followers. These days, they were just comrades or whatever. But you werenât a fool. Youâd known him for years. He always had followers.
Edie was practising her tricks while walking alongside you all the way to the trailer park and you were smiling at her and pretending to listen to her rambling but, in fact, you were far away with your thoughts.
You were looking around and caught yourself wondering⌠Would it really be that bad to live there? Of course the standard was way worse than Charlesâ huge mansion and you had your responsibilities back at school â all your kids to teach. On the other hand, they werenât really your kids and there were other teachers, while Erikâs trailer park just felt more free and you knew that it would make Edie happy to live there.
Of course only if Erik wanted you there as well, which wasnât so obvious.
The forest path ended and you found yourselves inside the trailer park. Edie ran off ahead and you tried to stop her but it was pointless. She felt comfortable there and seemed not to notice all the curious and suspicious eyes. People living with Erik knew who you were but they always stared at you like you were actually sent there with a military squadron supposed to arrest or kill them. After all, your kind â mutants living with Charles â was known for working with humans for the sake of the friendship between the species.
âHey, little one!â a female voice greeted Edie and you turned around to see a young woman patting your daughterâs head. You had seen her before while taking Edie to Erik or picking her up. That womanâs name was Monica and she seemed to be close with your husband.
Husband by name only. For some reason you had never divorced. There was never any occasion to do so.
âHi, Monica!â Edie smiled at her and you squinted your eyes at them. Edie had never told you much about Monica. Only that she had been nice.
You had your reasons to believe that Monica was actually Erikâs girlfriend and Edie just chose to cover up for them.
But there was nothing to cover up. It was Erikâs right to live his life without you. It was your choice not to live with him. It was your decision to split up for Edieâs good. Without Edie, youâd go to the end of the world with Erik back in the day. Youâd burn the whole world alongside him. You almost did once anyway.
Edie changed everything. You didnât regret her, though, not even for a moment.
âHi, Monica,â you stood behind Edie and put your hand on your daughterâs shoulder. Monica looked at you with a smirk. âIs Erik around?â you asked.
âYeah, let me get him,â she answered before turning around and disappearing inside one of the small houses.
He went outside a short moment after.
It had been years now since he changed so much but every time you saw him after a long while of not seeing him, you felt weird because he looked so different than at the beginning of your relationship. You didnât mean his face getting older but he used to be such an elegant man in his turtlenecks, jackets, sunglasses and haircut. Nowadays, he was just wearing T-shirts and didnât shave for days when he didnât feel like it. Edie would often complain about his stubble scratching her face when they were hugging.
âHi,â you greeted him awkwardly.
âHi,â he looked a bit surprised and opened his arms for Edie. She ran into them and jumped on her dad. He picked her up and kissed her cheeks. âI didnât expect you.â
âEdie wanted to see you,â you approached them and rubbed her back. âIâm sorry. Should have called⌠But you donât really use your phone, do you?â
âI donât know where it is,â Erik admitted.
âYeah, thatâs what Iâm talking about.â
âBut you havenât been here with her in such a long time. I thought Iâd never see her again,â he said and you felt guilty.
âDonât be stupid, Erik. Itâs just⌠I was very busy,â you looked down.
âMum saved the world yesterday,â Edie giggled as her dad put her down on the ground. Erik furrowed his brows at you.
âI didnât. Jane did, actually. KindaâŚâ you chuckled nervously.
âThey almost died, daddy,â Edie lowered her voice and swallowed thickly. You took a deep breath in.
âI know. Iâve listened on the radio,â he confessed and you looked up, surprised. âEdie, can I talk to your mum for a while?â
âBut daddy, I wanted to show you a trick!â
âYou can show me later, okay?â He caressed her hair.
âShow me first!â Suddenly, Monica appeared next to you. You almost jumped at that. Apparently, superhuman speed was her mutation.
âOkay!â Edie followed Monica to one of the houses and you watched them with terror in your eyes.
âSheâs safe. I trust Monica,â Erik assured you. âI trust everyone here. Believe me,â he insisted and you nodded your head before walking away with him to go inside his place.
You sat on the couch and looked around since you hadnât been inside much before. The place was quite messy and you spotted that there were some pictures on the wall and most of them were of Edie. On one of them it was all three of you when your daughter was a few months old. You stood up again and approached that picture to caress it gently with your fingertips through the glass of a frame.
âWe were so young, huh?â you cracked a smile.
âYou still are,â Erik stood behind you.
A long silence occurred between you two.
âWhat did you want to talk about?â you asked in a whisper after swallowing thickly.
âYou shouldnât risk your life anymore for Charles. I mean, I have never wanted you to but now we have Edie.â
âYou have never wanted me to risk my life for Charles,â you turned around to face him, âbut you have never minded me risking my life for you, Erik.â
âAll I did was to protect you and you know that,â he furrowed his brow.
âThatâs the excuse that lets you sleep at night?â you snorted at that.
â(Y/N), come on,â Erik grabbed your wrist but he wasnât squeezing it so you didnât fight him on that, âdonât pretend to be better than me. Donât play pretend to be a bigger person. We both know you are not. You joined me because you made a choice. I didnât force you to join the Brotherhood.â
âI joined you because I loved you,â you gritted your teeth and he clenched his jaw at your words, âand I hated every moment of it. Thereâs blood on my hands but it was all for love. Thatâs the excuse that lets me sleep at night.â
âI donât want you to die for Charlesâ ego, do you hear me? Edie needs a mother,â Erik changed the subject and pushed your wrist away. You knew it was a sensitive matter to him. He didnât want Edie to lose her mother like he had lost his.
âShe still has you. Youâre going to take care of her if something happens to me, right?â
âOf course I will but I didnât know you wanted me to. I thought youâd want her to stay at school if anything happens,â Erik sat down on the couch and you took a deep breath in.
âI donât. I mean, what for? So she grows up to be another XâMan? So they put her in a tight suit and make her risk her life to save humans?â you rolled your eyes. âFuck that, Erik. And you have the same mutation. Youâre every teacher sheâd ever need.â
âWhat do you mean by that?â he looked up and you bit on your lower lip nervously.
âI had an argument with Charles this morning. I know what you think but I donât want to do the missions for him anymore and itâs been like that for a long time now. I agreed to join his school, to be a teacher, to secure Edieâs future⌠But I never agreed to that, all that saving humans shit. He always sweet talks me into doing that. He tells me that he needs me. That there arenât many original XâMen around anymore⌠Me, Raven, Hank⌠And Iâm too fucking sentimental to say no to him. But itâs over now. I told him this morning Iâm not doing it anymore and he⌠He brought back the past. He told me I probably still have hatred towards humans in my heart, from the times when I was in the Brotherhood. That was too much, Erik. I split up my family for this man⌠I ruined what was between you and I to join him and thatâs how he repays me?â you sniffed your tears back and looked away. âI donât want to be there anymore. Heâs not a better life for me and my girl. I thought he would be but I was wrong.â
Erik examined your face for a while and he was visibly confused after hearing your little monologue. You quietly hoped heâd offer you a place to stay but he remained silent.
âI was thinking⌠Maybe we could move in⌠Edie and I⌠I know you miss her and she misses you, too. Not here, of course,â you looked around his house. âIâd get us our own place. I mean, my place⌠She could stay here for a while and then for a while with me. Whatever, weâd live close anyway. It wouldnât matter to her anyway. But I mean⌠When youâd want some time with Monica for yourselves, no problemâŚâ
âWhaâ Wait, wait, wait,â Erik stood up and shushed you before walking up to you. âWhat are you talking about? Some time with Monica? What?â
âI know you two are like⌠together,â you shrugged your arms, pretending that it didnât bother you.
âHave you lost your mind⌠Whoâs told you that? Edie?â
âNo,â you shook your head. âIâm observant.â
âNo, youâre not observant, (Y/N). Youâre jealous,â he laughed and you made an angry face at that. âYouâve always been. Should I remind you about Raven, EmmaâŚâ
âYou actually fucking kissed Raven,â you interrupted him.
âBecause you were giving me mixed signals.â
âThatâs no excuse!â you protested and then he shut you up with a kiss.
You gasped at first, still trying to process what had just happened. And then you gave in, you cupped his face and kissed him back so hard that your teeth clashed, like there was no tomorrow. God, you missed him.
Erikâs hands rested on your hips as he pulled you even closer. After a while, you lost your breath and had to break the kiss.
âOf course you can move in, just let me clean up a little,â he smiled with his face still only inches away from yours. You giggled at that.
âYeah, you should,â you nodded. âEdie and I are taking the bedroom. You can sleep here,â you took a step back and fixed his hair gently, âfor now,â you added. âI think we need some time. We canât just⌠Suddenly pretend that the past few years haven't happened. We lost many years,â you explained and he nodded his head.
âBut itâs nothing compared to all the years we still have ahead,â Erik raised your chin with his finger. âAnd this time, I promise, Iâll make it right.â
âYeah, I wouldnât survive you going to jail again,â you laughed and pushed him playfully.
âEkhem,â someoneâs voice made you both turn around and you saw Monica with a huge smirk on her face leaning on the doorframe. âYour kid is becoming very impatient to show you the trick,â she announced and winked at you.
âHow long have you been standing there?â Erik asked her.
âDepends on how long the kiss actually was. Iâd say⌠somewhere the middle of it but perhaps it was the ending. Didnât want to ekhem at you earlier, it felt off, you know?â
âOh for fuckâs sake. Thereâs no privacy here, is it?â you sighed.
âBetter get used to it,â Monica shrugged her arms, âand you, good luck at getting your old back used to sleeping on that shitty piece of couch,â she looked at Erik. âCome âere, Edie,â she called your daughter from the outside.
âWhat took you so long?â Edie whined after walking inside with her metal balls floating behind her like dogs taken out on a walk.
âYour parents wereâŚâ Monica started and Erik gave her a deadly look. â...talking,â she finished.
âAbout your new room,â Erik added. âWhat would you like in your new room?â
âMum, what does dad mean?â Edieâs eyes widened at you.
âWeâre moving in,â you announced nervously. âI mean⌠Only if you want to.â
âAre you kidding me?â she gasped and all the metal balls fell to the floor dramatically. âThatâs the best day ever!â she ran into her fatherâs arms happily. âDaddy, itâs my favourite day I think! Is it yours, too?â
âNo,â Erik shook his head and rubbed his nose with hers, âmy favourite day was the one when you were born.â
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