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thefrogdalorian · 11 months ago

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Dincember Day 25: Holiday

Word Count: 1498 Rating: General Summary: Waking up before Din on Life Day gives you the opportunity to admire all the little details and features of the man you love so much. Content Warnings: Just some smooching :) Author's Note: This was so soft and I loved writing this for the last entry. Just reader simping for Din Djarin, what a mood. It also leads into Day 6 - Gifts. Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed my contribution to Dincember I'm a little stunned I managed to make it through but very proud of myself. Thanks to anyone who has engaged with my entries, it really means the world! Merry Christmas everyone!🎄♡

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

The cabin was entirely silent, except for the soft snores coming from the man whose arms you were lying in. You could tell from the light drifting underneath the blinds that it was early morning; the light was pale and weak and still a bright white, which indicated that the deep frost that the surface of Nevarro had been covered in had not entirely thawed yet. It would make the holiday all the more exciting.

Life Day was finally here. It was the first time you would celebrate it with Din and Grogu in your little cabin here on Nevarro, and the first time that Din would celebrate it altogether. You were so excited for the day that lay ahead for many reasons, but mostly you were excited to witness Din's reaction to the carefully-selected gift that you had secured for him.

Your gift was from his home world and you knew that it would mean a great deal to him. It was a cut of fabric called Aq Vetina Carmine that an incredible vendor at the market had been able to source for you. You were excited to see what gifts Din had for you, but you were even more excited to see his reaction to the red fabric that was sure to bring back so many memories for him.

But that was all to come later in the day. For now, you were simply enjoying the stillness and tranquillity of the moment, cuddled up to the man you loved, in your little home together. Din’s arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you, his large hands splayed out across your stomach. You felt so protected and warm in his arms, when Din held you like this you had never felt safer. His rhythmic breathing as he slept was tickling the back of your neck slightly, not in an unpleasant way, but it was a funny sensation. Mostly, it was a pleasant reminder that he was something tangible, not a figment of your imagination. Din was such a wonderful partner that sometimes you wondered if in your loneliness on your home planet, you had dreamt him up. But no, he was really here, holding you tightly in his arms.

Mercifully, Grogu was seemingly still sleeping peacefully, giving you the opportunity to enjoy this moment. He had not burst into the room with excitement and hauled you and Din out of bed so he could tear into the mountain of gifts that you had carefully wrapped for him. You and Din had both vowed not to spoil Grogu too much. After all, wherever he went in the galaxy he was spoiled by everyone he encountered, even without you and Din. People just found him too adorable to resist; you couldn’t blame any of them, you also thought that Grogu was the cutest baby in the galaxy. Plus, it was Life Day. He was allowed to be a little extra spoiled for one day.

You sighed and shifted in Din’s embrace carefully, turning over to face him, your head on the pillow next to his so you could admire his handsome features while he slept. His hair was tousled from sleep, the dark brown curls sticking up at odd angles. You noticed the flecks of grey that were beginning to appear more prominently in his curls. Rather than making him look older, you thought about how distinguished he looked. His tan skin was practically glowing in the pale light of the morning. Your eyes travelled down towards his facial hair, the grey flecks mixed in with the darker brown that most of his moustache and patchy beard was in colour. The wrinkles around his eyes and that lined his forehead were evidence of both the stressful life he had led and the many times he had smiled or laughed in joy. An emotion that had been so rare for him until he had found you and Grogu. Now, those same wrinkles were relaxed and smoothed out in slumber. All except for the permanent wrinkle that rested on Din’s forehead, just above his nose between Din’s dark brown eyebrows. It was a feature that you found particularly adorable, another stunning detail of the expressive face you loved so much.

Your gaze stayed admiring that part of Din’s face, around his eyes. You noticed his dark, impossibly long eyelashes were touching on his closed eyes. You were enthralled by him, so many details that comprised the man you loved. Even asleep, Din Djarin was mesmerising. Your heart constricted briefly as you noticed the small scab near his temple, evidence of the tumble he had taken while ice skating the previous day. He had given you such a fright afterwards as you were worried that he would not be able to enjoy Life Day. But fortunately, it seemed after Din had made it back to the cabin and had lain down for a while, he was not too badly affected, just a little shaken. Which was understandable, the apologetic man had hurtled into him at quite a speed. Although Din had complained of a headache last night, you hoped that a good night’s sleep would have alleviated the pain. It certainly seemed as though that was the case, given how restful he appeared in slumber.

You weren't sure for how long you remained lying there in your quiet reverence, admiring every inch, every crevice and tiny detail of Din’s face. It could have been hours or it could have been minutes, but but however long: it was never enough. You could easily spend the rest of your life admiring Din Djarin like this.

Your appreciative glances at the man you loved came to an abrupt end, when the eyelashes that you had just been admiring moved as Din's eyes flickered open. You smiled as the brown eyes you loved to gaze into so much were right there, sparkling in the early morning light. Din blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings and the light. But eventually his gaze locked with yours. The eye contact took your breath away. How lucky were you that this thoroughly gorgeous man looked at you in this way, with so much love in his eyes?

“Good morning,” You whispered, your hand coming up to cup Din’s chin and stroke his cheek with your thumb, the grey and brown stubble there was scratchy underneath your touch.

“Good morning, cyare,” Din replied, leaning in to kiss you softly. Din hummed happily at the contact, then added “Happy Life Day.”

“Happy Life Day, Din,” You murmured. “I hope you enjoy your first time celebrating it. I can’t wait to exchange gifts and eat some good food with you.”

“Me neither,” Din smiled happily. “And I’m sure I will. You’ve introduced me to so many traditions and we’ve had so much fun already together… I can’t believe we still get to celebrate the actual holiday.”

“Well, now you’ll get to see what everything was building up to,” You grinned. “How are you feeling now?” You asked, in reference to the ice skating catastrophe of the previous day.

“My head feels much better, thank you,” Din reassured you. You had been pretty upset the previous night, worrying that he would not be in a fit condition to fully celebrate Life Day in the way you had planned.

“Oh, Din. I’m so glad to hear that,” You breathed, before you pressed a soft kiss to the little scab on his temple. “Probably need to keep kissing you, though. Just to make sure your head heals.”

“Oh yeah?” Din said, raising one eyebrow questioningly.

“Yeah,” You breathed, closing the gap between you. You pressed a small kiss to the spot where his tumble onto the ice had left a physical mark. Then you aimed for his lips, kissing him softly.

The kisses started off gentle, but something between you shifted and the gentle kisses gradually became more and more needy. Din captured your lips desperately, one hand held the back of your head and the other the side of your jaw as his teeth grazed against your bottom lip. It was as though he suddenly had an overwhelming need for you, he was totally overcome with want. You grinned into the kiss, your lips curling into a smile against his facial hair. Din pulled away and buried his face against your shoulder.

“Love you so much, mesh’la,” Din growled into your neck.

“I love you too, Din,” Your reply was cut short, you gasped as Din began kissing the side of your neck.

You were stunned by Din’s sudden desperation, but you weren't going to complain. It seemed that perhaps the festive spirit had manifested in a somewhat surprising way for Din: it had ignited a need for you that you were more than happy to oblige. You sighed happily as Din continued pressing hot kisses onto your neck, now adding teeth to the equation.

It was the perfect way to start the holiday.

#dincember 2023 #din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal characters #my fics #ANNNNND THAT'S A WRAP!!#i will miss dincember so much #had so much fun <3

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kittykittyhunter · 2 years ago

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[Circa October 2019]

from the very beginning;

They're lying on the hillside, enjoying the dewy grass, staring up at the wide, wide universe and its endless stars when the first says, "I had a dream, a while ago."

"About what?"

The tone is light, inquisitive – befitting of a heroine who can at last revel in respite, having saved everyone who needed to be saved. The first smiles in the dark and fights to keep her voice measured rather than sombre.

"I dreamt that we'd met a long time ago. We were childhood friends and grew up together. We went to school. Trained. Got part-time jobs. We were there for each other. Through everything."

"Oh... wow. That would have been cool, actually. Really nice."

"Better?"

The second says firmly, "Oh some things, definitely. And easier. I wouldn't have had to fight so hard if I'd had you by my side from the very beginning. I'm just glad you came into my life when you did."

There's a long silence after that. Insects crawl over their forearms and the second contemplates falling asleep, secure in the knowledge that she is safe when in the presence of her equal. Nevertheless, she rubs the tiredness from her eyes and yawns, "Did you like the dream?"

"Not really."

"Oh." The second flushes, embarrassed.

The first sits up and tucks her knees under her chin. "It's not your fault. I'm not normally this sentimental, but when I woke up, I was angry that it took so long for us to meet. We could have had years and years. But up until now, all we've ever got are scraps of time, whenever our realities happened to collide. And that's... sad."

The second feels her heart splintering in her chest. She balls her hands into fists and squeezes them tight. "I'm sorry," she says. "There's not much that I can do about that."

"You already do more than enough. Never forget that."

"Why," says the second suddenly, bolting upright, "does this feel so terrible? Why do I feel like I'm losing you?"

A deep, deep sigh. The stars sigh in sympathy.

"Because I've got a world and a war to get back to."

"I'll come with you –"

"You can't," the first interrupts. "I won't let you. You can't drag yourself from place to place to fight other people's battles. You're not a weapon! You're –"

"What?" she demands, "What am I?"

"Too important."

"Have you ever wondered if the feeling's mutual? If maybe you're too important to be destroyed?"

A short, wry laugh. "I won't be destroyed so easily. Don't forget. I'm one of the best."

"That applies to me, too."

"It's different. You are the best. Here, anyway."

"I don't get it. It's fine for you to help me solve my problems, but it isn't okay for me to help you? What the hell is that? Don't you trust me?"

"I trust you," the first answers, "and I love you, which is why I need you to stay here, where it's safe. This is where you deserve to be. I'm not going to argue about it."

They both get to their feet. The air cracks. The gentle mood is gone, never to be recovered. The second hisses, "Newsflash, genius. This is an argument."

"No. This is a goodbye. Take care of yourself."

She breaks into a sprint. The second follows, howling the other's name. The first hurls something into the darkness and a portal opens up, its edges cast in blue flames. There's a shimmering, mirage-like scene on the other side: monsters dance through the skies, terrific and violent.

Before the first can vanish, the second catches her wrist.

"I told you, I –"

"And I heard you," comes the bitter reply, "and I respect you too much to completely ignore you, though it looks like you don't care enough about me to stop yourself running away.

"Three months," she adds, holding up the same number of fingers. "If you're not back by then, I'm going in there and murdering whatever murdered you."

The first struggles between a grimace and a grin. "Give me six."

"I thought you're one of the best? Three's plenty."

A small nod. They press palms for a moment, as though transferring courage. Then the second steps back and the first steps forward.

As the portal swallows itself, she glances back once, over her shoulder. She mouths an apology and is gone.

The second bites back her tears.

#prose #now here's the thing #writing while keeping the characters anonymous was kind of a drag #but it was also very necessary #i love these two #sigh sighs #2019

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fairyoftbz · 3 years ago

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jealousy | l. hyunjae

🌊 pairing: bf! hyunjae x fem! reader 🌊 wc: 1.9k 🌊 synopsis: at the beach, your mood suddenly swings, and your boyfriend is too oblivious to understand why you're feeling that way. 🌊 genre: angsty fluff, comfort, very cliché, fluffy end 🌊 tw: insecurities, self body-shaming, a petty fight at the beginning 🌊 a/n: yeah I went to the pool the other day and it was pretty much this, except that I didn't have a hyunjae by my side lol... and Spotify played this olivia rodrigo's song a moment after.. but happy birthday to Hyunjae in advance!!! 🥰 🌊 requested: no!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

“What kind of fuckery is that?” you ask yourself when you take a look around you at the beach while Hyunjae was settling your stuff down in the sand, trying not to get too much sand on the cooler. He removed his t-shirt to be more comfortable, girls built like models ogled at your boyfriend’s back and abs, giggling together and biting their lips as they saw his muscles move around.

The beach was filled with slim, fit people, either working out or getting that tan for Instagram. The girls were so pretty and looked like models that could sign with Marc Jacobs, which had the ability to make you even more insecure than you already were. A feeling of uneasiness settled inside your body, especially your heart, who felt heavy with insecurity when you took another great look at the people hanging out around you.

“Here darling, take a seat,” he said as he placed down a wide tablecloth on the sand with your towel on it, thanking him with a brief smile before guiding him to plant the parasol to let you rest in the shade together.

His shoulders and biceps glistened with sweat as he stopped digging to hammer the parasol pole in the sand, rubbing the grains off his fingers to finally sit down next to you. His smile subsided when he noticed you staring into space, gaze on the water, a weary look painted on your face.

“Y/N, is there something wrong? Don’t you want to go in the water?” he quizzed you, not really understanding your mood swing. You were so excited when he offered to go to the beach, and now, you looked sad, almost disappointed to be there.

“You can go ahead, I’ll join you later,” you said as you rested on your back, covering your face with your straw hat.

Hyunjae observed you laying down, frowning as you didn’t even remove your beach dress. Something felt odd, weird. You loved being there and having fun in the water. What was going on?

He looked around to see what could have upset you this much, but he couldn’t find anything. People, friends and couples were laughing and enjoying the sun, just like he had expected you to do with him.

You open your eyes and clench your jaw when Hyunjae lifted your hat off your face, a veil of concern forming in his eyes. Shifting his weight on one hand, the other caressed your upper thigh, the warmness of his palm contrasting with your shivering skin.

“Did I do something that made you mad?” he dared to ask another question, trying to get a glimpse of your thoughts to try to understand what was actually going on. “No you didn’t. I just don’t want to go in the water now, the wind is making me cold,” you lied and Hyunjae sighed, understanding that you wouldn’t share what was on your mind for now.

He kissed your cheek anyway, mouth lingering on your skin a bit longer than usual and stood up, removing his cap and sunglasses while looking at the people around you with a frown. You watch him calmly walk to the water, silently watching the waves crash against his feet, calves and knees the further he walked in the ocean, his glistening back muscles moving as he raised his arms to dive underwater.

You sighed and rolled on your stomach, your back facing the shore as you folded your arms, using the back of your palm as a cheek rest, closing your eyes in the process. A single tear rolled down your cheek, captured by the edge of your sunglasses, followed by many more, letting the insecurities invade your mind. You didn’t even want to look at all the slim, IG models look alike smirking and eyeing your boyfriend up and down as he walked by. You already felt so uneasy to be here, you didn’t want to add fuel to the fire by looking at what you’ve always dreamt to look like being attracted to your partner.

But Hyunjae didn’t even notice those girls. His frown deepened even more when he only saw the back of your body, something quite usual coming from you. You absolutely adored the beach and the ocean, remembering one of your first dates where you told him that the beach - especially at sunset - was your solace, and now you were facing away from this source of comfort. Plus, there were occasions where you came here without really wanting to go in the water, just to enjoy the warmth and the sight of the ocean, happily waving at your boyfriend that was having fun in the water while you stayed in your seat.

He didn’t even notice them looking at him, because his eyes and mind were focused on you and you only, trying to find what had caused you to become this weary and down all of a sudden. He didn’t feel the same when you weren’t looking at him, when you shut yourself out and let your brain overthink on its own, refusing his help. A pinch of discomfort tightened his heart, regretting that he wasn’t as good at reading people as much as he wished to.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, what’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours,” he mumbled under his breath as he got out of the water, still not noticing that the source of your uneasiness were the ones staring at him, a few metres away from him as he walked back to you.

Droplets of salty water landed on your cheek and forearm as Hyunjae bent down to kiss your temple, forcing a tired smile on your face to try and not let anything show on your face.

“Is the water good?” you mindlessly asked as Hyunjae rested on his stomach, just like you, pushing his front pieces of hair back before putting his cap on.

“It’s a bit fresh at first, but once you’re in it, it’s good. You’d love it,” his voice trailed at the end of his sentence, eyes trying to probe your soul and bribe you to join him in the water.

“That’s great,” you nodded and sniffled, handing a bottle of water from the cooler to your boyfriend. He uncapped it but stopped, shifting on his side, resting his weight on his elbow.

“Babe, please, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting strangely since we got here, what’s going on?” he asked, voice ringing with frustration. You briefly looked at him before looking at the ocean, letting out a big sigh.

“Can’t you see anything, Jaehyun? Can’t you see that everyone around me, including you, looks like they just walked out of a Dior photoshoot by how slim and fit and pretty they look? That you have all the girls around us that ogle at you like you’re single? Yes I’m mad, yes I’m insecure, but I have my reasons, don’t you think?” you spat out your insecurities with teary eyes to your boyfriend’s face, who looked at you like he just saw a ghost.

That, was the last thing he had imagined. He never thought that you would get so insecure about this because you looked like the most beautiful girl in his eyes. He was about to speak up, but he placed himself in your shoes for a quick second, insecurities, as well as anger, started boiling in his veins as he imagined men looking at you like a fresh piece of meat.

You started scratching the skin around your thumb, a habit that you picked up when you were stressed and nervous and tears gathered in your eyes as you tried to ignore some girls still looking at and trying to flirt with your man. You wrapped your arms around your knees and pressed your chin on top of it, only to have Hyunjae positioning behind you to have you between his legs, wrapping his arms around your middle to press you against him.

He grabbed your hand to stop you from scratching it and he pressed his mouth against your shoulder, remaining silent as he tried to search for his words.

“No. I didn’t see any of those people, because I don’t care about how they look. I don’t care if the girls look like skinny models or if you find their faces pretty. Do you find the men here handsome ?”

“No,” you said in a wobbly voice, eyes glued to the ocean.

“Why?”

“Because I love you and I only have eyes for you,” you said in a shaky voice and Hyunjae remained in silence for a few seconds, knowing that you were smart enough to get what he was implying.

“So I don’t look at girls because?”

“Because you love me,” you said, voice wavering as tears rolled down your cheeks, Hyunjae holding you close to his chest, trailing salty kisses from your neck up to your cheek.

“Of course I love you, and with all my heart. I wouldn’t be with you if that weren’t the case.”

He grabbed your chin and you shifted to the side, sitting perpendicularly to him. His hands cupped your cheeks to make you look at him and he offered you a gentle smile, his thumbs wiping the paths the tears left on your skin when they rolled down your cheeks.

“I only see you, Y/N. You’re much more than looks, and you can’t say that you are horrible next to them. You are just yourself, someone more honest, prettier and funnier than all those girls around us. They don’t interest me at all, I only care about you. It’s not my problem if they think I’m handsome. As long as you’re in love with me, I'm at my happiest,” he caressed your cheek with tenderness, holding a huge amount of love for you in his eyes. You nodded, trying to make his words imprint in your brain and ignore everything and everyone that was surrounding you, but it was far from being easy.

You delicately touched his cheek and he kissed your inner palm while holding eye contact, assuring you that he only had eyes for you.

“Do you want to go in the water? Yes?” his eyes sparkled with joy as you nodded with a smile, your boyfriend springing to his feet and removed his cap, getting all excited when he watched you remove your beach dress.

“Stop staring at me like that Jae, we’re in public,” you giggled as you threw your dress at him, who hummed your perfume on the fabric before dropping it on your towel.

“I won’t. I want to let everyone know that I only have eyes for you,” he said as he grabbed your hand and started running towards the water, entering it with a big splash and laughter.

You dove underwater to get used to the salty water, reappearing at the surface a few seconds later, Hyunjae smiling at you. He wrapped your legs around his waist and held you close, pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss.

“Chill, chill,” you laughed as you pulled away breathless, Hyunjae’s hands caressing your body.

“No, no, I wanna show them that they don’t have a single chance against you. And that you’re taken,” he grunted the last part of his sentence, making you giggle and hugging him close.

“Thank you, Jae,” you mumbled and your boyfriend stares at you with a reassuring smile, pressing his lips to your temple.

“I love you Y/N,” you held eye contact again and Hyunjae was happy to see your smile, kissing your lips the following second.

Gosh, you were so in love with each other.

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wh6res · 4 years ago

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dreams come true | yuta

"soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks." — ny

[ part of the my bloody valentine collection ]

tw. gore, blood, murder, death, killings, mentions of illegal organ trafficking, violence, mentions of stalking, minor character deaths, weapons (a knife and a gun), almost (??) suggestive content but nothing happened

disc. this is rlly fucked up and yuta is unredeemable. i dont condone such acts. this is all a work of fiction and meant to entertain.

wc. 5k

every time you sleep, the void is sickening. it was all you could see, lightyears and lightyears away of pitch black that made your head dizzy and your stomach dry heave. you've always wondered when you'll start dreaming about your soulmate's memories. they were like little secrets, another way for two people to be intimate without even being together. their days were flashing before their soulmate's eyes in the form of a dream. it's as if you spent the day with them!

you loved it, the whole concept of it. it sounded so wholesome and sweet and jesus fucking christ, you've always been such a hopeless romantic.

it was sweet until it turned sour. you loved it until you hated it. it was romantic until it turned downright terrifying.

you wake up covered in cold sweat, panting and gasping as if you've run a whole marathon.

moonlight seeps through your glass window, slightly left ajar for the midnight breeze to pass through – you walk up to it, pull it shut, and draw your thick curtains together. you exhaled, breath shaking as you tried to anchor yourself back to the ground.

with the only source of your light disappearing, darkness envelops you whole. for once, you craved the void. you want that void back if it meant never seeing something like that again – something straight out of your worst nightmare.

"119, what's your emergency?"

"uhm, i think… i think i just witnessed a massacre."

you reiterate everything you saw in the dream – the mahogany door, paint chipping off the drywalls. the doorknob was rusty, so were the hinges, and it made an ominous creak when pushed open. the light switches on, the first you see was a bunch of dirty ice coolers in what should've been the living room, it wasn't even the slightest bit organized. they were everywhere, and the floor looked grimy and disgusting, like there's a stain they can't seem to scrub off. only when your soulmate has stalked closer did you see the labels haphazardly taped on top of the ice coolers.

kidneys. livers. lungs. pancreas. intestines – you nearly vomited on the floor, trying to relay everything you saw to the operator on the other end of the call.

then came the gruesome parts.

their deaths.

they were five people in total. men clad in cheap t-shirts and pants, wearing all these similar leather jackets. some were well-built, ripped in the arms and thighs, but some were skinny, the jackets hanging on their small frames.

they never stood a chance against him.

your soulmate is agile, quick on his feet with outstanding eye-hand coordination. only equipped with a butcher's knife, but it was all he needed to take them down and send them knocking on inferno's gates. he was skilled, knowing when to pounce and where to slash his knife to maim but never to kill. by the time your soulmate was through with them, everything is bloody red. all the victims' eyes widened as they sputtered and choked on their blood – not dead, but dying...

because your soulmate wasn't done yet.

a killer should have a modus operandi, should they not? so he took out a desert eagle, stood before the bleeding bodies, and shot two bullets straight into their eyes. the finishing touch? carving a frown on their faces with his butcher's knife.

the operator only told you one thing after she's made you describe the place for them to track the crime scene down.

"double-check all your windows and doors."

because you couldn't be too sure, not when you have been granted a front seat to the sad face slayer's most recent endeavors.

the detective eyes you with a certain pity. maybe that's why you don't bother meeting his eyes. you sit still on a chair, camera blinking red behind him, the interrogation room is freezing even with the thick jacket you're wearing.

seven billion people in the world and you're soulmate's a ruthless serial killer who took it upon himself to purge the world of evildoers – he was playing god, no wonder the detective is looking at you like that.

"uhh…" he's awkward, fidgeting in his seat. "and you saw this all in a dream?"

"yes."

you've known him only minutes ago. mark lee was his name and he seems to be a subordinate of a higher, more experienced detective named kim doyoung. you don't know whether to feel offended or not for having a doe-eyed newbie taking care of the case, but you pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing his superior is watching on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"did you have, like, other past instances where you dreamt of him? of what he…" mark looked like he was going to throw up. "what he does to his other victims?"

you shook your head. no. "i've mostly just heard of him on the news. i don't think i have the stomach to find out in-depth what the killer does."

mark takes out a folder, features walking the fine white line between looking apologetic or wanting to say me too. "i'm, uhh, really sorry to hear that."

there's a sudden pregnant silence encapsulating the interrogation room. it felt like you were mourning for something, the chains of dread dragging your heart to the ground as it pounded against your ribcage. mark looked like he wanted to say something, but you swore his eyes darted towards the camera in the corner and decided otherwise.

"anyway…" he trails. flipping the folder open in one swift motion. "past sightings have given us the sad face slayer's name."

he slaps down a picture of a man, his hair raven and a permanent scowl etched on his face. the quality was shitty. it looked like it was a screenshot taken from zoomed-in cctv footage.

"nakamoto yuta, twenty-five, japanese, and has slipped one too many times past authorities that at this point, it's practically a talent."

and just like that, it made sense why you're here.

your lips pursed in contemplation, palms quaking as your fingers reach forward to inspect your soulmate's picture. "and… you want to use my soulmate connection –" you glowered. never had a sentence sounded so fucking cursed and utterly wrong. "– to catch him?"

mark can't look you in the eye. "yes. he's very elusive. his killings have been happening cross-country and, as you can see, have garnered national media attention. the police are hanging by a thread here. a month in his case and all we got is his MO, name, and that he has this weird god complex on him. if we can't catch him by the end of next month…" he shrugs. "the feds are going to interfere, sooner or later."

"so…" you trail, urging him to continue.

"so, we need as much information about him as we can get and your dreams about him will be able to provide that."

fucking great.

the much newer revelations of precisely who it was on the other end of the soulmate connection put a significant damper on your mood. you'd like to think your new little cop buddy who follows you around gives you the least bit sense of security, but alas, it doesn't. not when you've seen first hand how yuta took down five men all at once without breaking a fucking sweat – you absolutely refuse to call him your soulmate, you'd never accept a person with his nature as a soulmate.

you try to hide the bracelet mark handed you last two weeks ago, during your time spent in the precinct's interrogation room.

"please have this on you at all times until we catch him, okay? this is for extra measures, just in case something happens to the cop assigned to guard you. just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?"

considering you're now probably being hunted alive for snitching on a serial killer? mark lee, that was not funny at all.

"do you have to get inside the lecture with me?" you whine, shielding your face with your hair when you notice people shooting glances at the rather handsome cop they assigned to you. "it's not like he'll attack in broad daylight! and in a fucking classroom, for that matter."

jaehyun looks just about ready to hurl you out the window. "lower down your voice," he scolds. "serial killers don't pick a time and place, sweetheart. he kills when necessary and if it's fucking necessary to murder everyone in that classroom to get to you? he'll do it in a fucking heartbeat."

you sigh when the chair next to you screeches against the floor, the aforementioned male taking his seat right next to you. jaehyun felt more like a babysitter than a cop, who seems to have a habit of constantly inputting his not-even-needed opinions on the most superficial things.

are witness protection protocols like this?

it was a good thing that overgrown bat doesn't come hanging around in your apartment, but he does have the police car parked right across the building's entrance. judging by how meticulous and thorough he seems to be, he won't miss any face that comes in and out of the building.

you didn't forget exactly why you're under witness protection. for the cops to waste one good officer to follow you around, you needed to be valuable and being valuable meant sleeping through nightmare-induced dreams of what your soulmate does for a living. the scenes are so gruesome, so graphic and utterly gory, that you dart towards the bathroom first thing after waking up in cold sweat, draining all of dinner down the toilet bowl.

after dreaming of him in action a few times, you've now completely understood what detective lee had said regarding yuta's god complex. it was unsightly, yet there was a twisted sense of heroism to it. if there's one thing, he only gutted the bad guys – but that didn't make nakamoto yuta any less of a bad guy, himself.

i need to ask you a favor [sent 2:05am]

JJH: what? [received 2:10am]

often the nightmares were too much. too much that you thought of escaping its horrors by never getting a wink of sleep ever again – until you realized you're a witness and is probably the only chance for the seoul police department to catch that bastard.

buy me sleeping pills? [read 2:08am]

when you peep out of the window, you find an empty spot across the road where jaehyun usually parks the police car. twenty minutes later, you answer the knocking on your door. he used that little "code" he did for you to know it was him. jaehyun was glowering and muttering about how he wasn't some errand boy when he shoved the plastic bottle in your hand yet, you still thanked him nonetheless.

the pills worked like a charm. you managed to stay asleep throughout the whole night, ceasing those episodes of yours where you jolt awake in the middle of dreaming about the sad face slayer's memories.

life continued for you. it became a little bearable, but that didn't mean the horrific murders you see in your dreams are something you can get used to – you don't think you'll ever get used to the sight of him slashing his victims, the blood trickling like a goddamned waterfall.

today the dreams were different. anticlimactic, per se, if you compare it to the violence so utterly present in his memories.

the first you see were black gates, then it shifted to him ordering coffee in a café (amazing what a simple black mask can hide). it switched to him walking on a sidewalk, then he arrives at his destination, an apartment building – it wasn't too rundown, nor was it extravagant.

the serial killer takes the elevator and walks up to a mahogany door –

your room number is a blaring sight.

you couldn't be wrong, not when the 506 with the missing zero in the middle was a sight you saw every day, going and coming home from university.

that was your front door.

he was at your front door.

you jolt awake, ignoring the icky feel of sweat making your clothes cling onto your skin. ice creeps up your spine and freezes you over when you notice with a sinking realization.

those black gates are from the university you attended. that café is your favorite study nook. and that sidewalk is a route you take every day.

you clamp your hands on your mouth as tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets. you pull the comforters up above your head, fear gripping onto you with a vice-like grip as you sob.

it was in the dead of night, moonlight grazing the confines of your room and hours away from dusk. you finally utter those three words in a frightened whisper.

"he's stalking me."

as if having the overgrown bat jaehyun following and annoying you around wasn't enough, you now have another person keeping watch over you. mark lee, unlike jaehyun, may not be as ripped with muscle, but you heard from your cop buddy that the young detective has a few black belts under him. people at the precinct said that if they have to choose one person who can ever come close to the sad face slayer's agility, mark lee's your guy.

"you gotta be shitting me," you mutter, leaning close to jaehyun to whisper like high school girls talking about gossip. "he doesn't look the type!"

jaehyun, in turn, plays along and copies you. "yeah, true. he gets that a lot, i think,"

"guys, i'm literally in the back seat. i can hear everything."

the change hadn't been too drastic. at least mark was there when jaehyun proved to be difficult, pulling him towards the other way when the older male tried waltzing into your class again. "you don't need to sit next to her in her class! are you serious? there's one exit and entrance and we're on the fifth floor. breaking into that classroom will be the end of nakamoto's serial killer career!"

you shoot mark an appreciative smile, one he quickly returned before hauling jaehyun around the hallway. "we'll just be at the canteen, okay? press the 'lil button on your bracelet and we'll be right there!"

shaking your head with a slight smile on your face, you entered the classroom, sat in your usual spot, and did some of your readings from our other class to kill time. you hardly hear the screech of the chair next to you as it was pulled back. not like you cared much for whoever sat down next to you, but you can't deny there's that feeling of missing jaehyun when he used to force his way into the lecture.

"settle down! settle down, people!"

the professor enters and the class begins.

you were meticulous with your note-taking system. it's thorough, leaving no room for information to slip you. having already printed hard copies of the powerpoint presentation and simply jotting down some extra key points mentioned by your professor.

you were just about to raise your hand for a question when you feel something warm graze past your arm. you absentmindedly look down.

the breath is sucked right out of your lungs.

hi, soulmate

there, scribbled with an ominous red crayon on a small piece of paper. it was almost laughable how innocent it looked but when you follow the ring-clad hand, up the black hoodie he's wearing, and finally to his face—

"hi! i'm yuta."

his cheshire smile spikes up your heartbeat. it makes you want to throw up, makes you want to slam your head against the desk. the fight or flight hormone you have is making you restless, eyes pinned on the serial killer sitting next to you, scared that if you avert your gaze, he's going to take out that desert eagle and shoot you until your skull caves in and the bullets in his magazine empties.

"but judging by your reaction, i don't think introductions are needed, hm?" his tone is easy, conversational even and it shoots a freezing jolt of fear right up your spine. it makes you sweat profusely because you don't fucking know what to do, your thoughts in complete and utter disarray.

"just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?" you swallow, sneakily pressing the button without breaking eye contact with the serial killer sitting in front of you.

"look upfront. now." yuta orders and you nearly snap your neck as you turn your head with lightning speed.

"i thought i was above the soulmate rules, but here we are. my soul is either too tainted or too great to be tied to such trivial things, but oh well, we learn to work with what we have. surprisingly, i learned to like dreaming about how your day went."

you feel something sharp poking at your thigh and when you look down, he has a silver butterfly knife pointed against you. the precision of the angle he held it with doesn't slip your notice. one slice of that knife, no matter how small, and he'll be spilling your guts in this classroom.

a fat tear rolls down your face.

"can you imagine how much my heart broke when i learned you were spying on me? leaking information to that snobby detective? to those incompetent cops? bad baby, that was very bad of you."

"yuta—"

"you think the cops can save you from me?"

his other hand comes in contact with the nape of your neck, holding your head in place as he leaned down to invade your space. he scoffs, and you can picture that terrifying cheshire grin you've seen one too many times in your dreams.

the knife digs through your coat, the tip hardly poking your skin only because he doesn't want to drive it into you yet. how did he even manage to get inside the university? not to mention the weapons he possessed? shouldn't anyone be suspicious when they see a man dressed in all black, clad in jeans and a hoodie, into a university—

he even dressed the part. with that hood drawn up and carrying that one notebook, he looked fairly normal. someone who can easily blend in with the crowd.

you eye your professor, willing him to look at you but your soulmate is having none of that. you squirm when he drives the knife further, at the base of your stomach. with his other hand, he twirls a lock of hair around his finger. "now, now, soulmate. you don't want half the people here to get hurt, do you? unless... that can easily be arranged—"

"no!" you whisper, head jerking to the side to look at him humming in satisfaction. damn. out of all the faces he's seen contorted with fear, yours is his absolute favorite. with those pleading, glassy eyes and parted lips, yuta is tenting in his sweats.

"thought so," he chuckles. "let's get up. we're leaving. that old crook doesn't care if students just up and went in the middle of his lecture."

you don't want to think about how he even knew that because it implied attending the lectures a good amount of times. it's with sinking realization that jaehyun was right. if it weren't for him insisting to sit next to you, nakamoto yuta would've long gotten you in his claws.

you tried gathering your things until he purred into your ear.

"ah, ah, ah. you wouldn't be needing those with where we're going."

the hallways were empty, not that you had much time to scream for help when he had a knife pointed up your back, shoving you into the fire escape stairs. within the tranquil confines of the staircases, the sad face slayer couldn't fucking care less for your personal space.

he disgusts you greatly, he needn't do anything but stand there in front of you but you can already smell the long blood trail from his path. it reeks of rotting flesh and that infuriating god complex he had left a sour aftertaste.

"you know, i genuinely wanted to get to know you," yuta pouts, shaking the hoodie off his head. his hair raven, it's ends kissing the nape of his neck. he looked like he came right out of a shounen manga but the bloodlust in his eyes is something that can never be masked. "i detested the soulmate connection at first, i thought i should just kill you off because you could be my loose end."

his humorless smile is enough to give you nightmares.

"but seeing how sweetly normal and untainted you are made me hold back," the butterfly knife appears before your line of sight, yuta teasingly dragging the tip right down your cheek to trace your tears. "so, why did you snitch, baby?"

you shiver when he noses the side of your neck, inhaling your scent as his other hand hooks underneath your top, freezing fingers making you jolt. when you don't reply, his patience starts to dwindle. then again, he was never a patient man.

"answer me, you bitch. why did you rat me out?" gone is the playful lilt in his voice. the vibrations surge through you as his deep, demanding voice scares you shitless.

you feel, hear, and smell him everywhere. this wasn't like any nightmare. this is real, and you won't magically wake up on your bed, sighing in relief, knowing he isn't there, that it was all just in your head. no, this was very much real and there's absolutely no escape.

"i didn't," your voice cracks. "i didn't mean to—"

"bullshit!" he yells. you wail in pain when he slams you against the wall, head aching as it came in contact with concrete. "because of you betraying me, i nearly fucking got caught, and i never get caught!"

you were full out sobbing at this point, noisy and unsightly as the snot mixes with your tears. your only hope now is he gives you a quick, painless death and that he doesn't carve and mutilate your face like what he always does to his other poor victims. "i'm sorry! please... i'm so sorry. i was scared—"

he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side as he inched his face closer. "aw, scared? my sweet little soulmate was scared?" he places the blade flat against your neck. as humiliating and degrading as it was, you almost peed on your clothes. "how about now? i'm sure as hell that you're fucking terrified for your useless life right now."

you cringe when his hand abandons the expanse of your stomach, no longer inching higher, finding its purchase on the hair sitting at the crown of your head. he holds you in place like that, forcing your head parallel against the wall, with his whole body pressing up to you that it's nearly suffocating.

"just one quick little slice," he taunts. you hiccuped when you feel the feathery light scrape of the blade moving against your skin. "you won't even have time to scream… but i'm sure we don't want that, do we?"

you forgot how to speak. forgot how to breathe. whenever your mind wanders, you've always thought about how you'll give this killer a piece of your mind, with the amount of fear and sorrow he inflicts upon other people. but you guess realities were a lot more different than expectations. the yuta you dreamed of meeting is in handcuffs, but fate is a fickle little thing.

"do we?" he repeats, slicing ever so slightly at your skin. enough to draw blood in droplets, never a waterfall.

"n – no."

he smiles. "you can make it up to me. do you want to make it up to me?"

the butterfly knife digs even further. a warning. and if you value your useless life, you should be smart enough to know what to answer. drawing a shaky breath, you tried forcing the ends of your lips up to a smile. "of course, yuta."

your voice breaks as your sobbing grips your body whole. the fear consuming your entire being like a parasite consuming the host. you would've shut down altogether if it weren't for the calloused hands gently gripping your face. "i know, i know. i see how regretful you are, baby. don't worry, i won't hurt you. you'll make it up to me."

anyone would be fucking stupid if you believe those words coming from a serial killer.

in your wrecked state, you barely register that he's pushing you down to your knees. skin coming in contact with the freezing linoleum floor as you refuse to look at what his hands are doing. yuta has pocketed his knife. the sound of a belt unbuckling in itself added insult to injury.

you stare blankly at his shoes as he shoves his bottoms down enough for his cock to show. if you squint hard enough, you'll see tiny splatters of blood in the shoelaces. whether or not he feels you're unresponsive, he doesn't show. maybe he doesn't care entirely. he takes one of your hands and used it to wrap around himself. he gasps, sharp, followed by a hiss.

you feel it throbbing and it strengthens the disgust you feel. no way you're going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact when you're already forced to blow this psycho.

"eyes up."

you sniffled, vulnerability present in the tone you speak. "i don't want to. please, don't make me."

if words alone aren't enough for you to follow orders, maybe you'll feel more motivated if held at gunpoint. it's unmistakable, the infamous desert eagle you've only seen in your nightmares. the last thing you ever expected is to be on the side where the bullet comes out.

the barrel is freezing as he digs it into the crown of your head. "soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks."

your eyes looked up then. glaring as the tears rolled down your face. "you're a monster," you mutter under your breath. where you got the confidence to fight back is unknown.

"i've heard that before, be more creative next time," he holds your hair tight in one grip, shoving you forward, eye-level to his throbbing dick. "now… suck, baby."

"freeze!"

you knew that voice, you've been hearing it for the last two weeks. "jaehyun–!"

yuta cuts you off, shoving the gun into your mouth. the safety clicking off resonating in the tranquil room. it's deafening, and it makes you immobile.

"hands up. step away from the civilian." whether or not mark is nervous as he points the gun at the serial killer, he's doing a damn good job of hiding it.

yuta sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. his raised arms came down to tuck himself back in his jeans, and the action made jaehyun's calm exterior crack. "i said, hands up, asshole!"

"chill out, motherfucker. i'm just trying to wear my pants." the serial killer hisses, glaring at jaehyun over his shoulder.

"mark, call back up already. what are you doing?" jaehyun mutters, side-eyeing the young detective whose gun shakes as he holds it up. the taller cop takes a step forward, eyes never leaving the notorious killer as he addresses you curtly. "(name), come here."

just as you plant your palms to the ground to push yourself up, one of yuta's hands shoves you down quick as lightning. "no. she stays here, with me."

jaehyun scowls, takes another step forward. "and what makes you think i'm going to let that happen?"

"i don't think. i know."

there's a constant ring in your ear as the gunshot temporarily renders you deaf. you've shut your eyes in utter fright, hands shooting up to cover your ears but it was too late. you refuse to open your eyes, you didn't want to see a dead body lying before you, even if it belonged to a heartless serial killer.

but when your eyes fluttered open, it's not yuta bleeding out on the ground.

"no, this can't be – jaehyun!"

it was a bullet straight to the head, no one could've survived a shot like that. his eyes are empty as he stares at you, unblinking, stoic. the color is yet to drown away from his milky complexion. but you can't even manipulate yourself into thinking that jaehyun's still alive. not when his eyes are empty, not when he just looks so lifeless.

it couldn't have been yuta who pulled the trigger.

his weapons were on the ground and the shot rang too fast. the sad face slayer couldn't have crouched down for his gun to shoot the cop, it would've taken too much time. and among the three men, there's only another person holding a weapon, and that was –

"great shot, mark."

the detective smiles, but with the blood splattered on his face, it looked cold. "told ya i've been practicing."

yuta hauls you up by the arms, addicted to how frail your body feels as it collapses against him. he's finally got his little soulmate in his arms. and he will never, ever let you go.

the cops lost – you've lost.

yuta, with a sense of victory coursing through his veins, took the liberty of trailing little pecks down your neck as he mutters, "mine, mine, mine!" but you couldn't care less about his display of mocked affection. not when the other person meant to protect you, turned out to be everything you think he wasn't.

mark must've felt the gravity of your stare as he crouches before jaehyun's bleeding body. grabbing the fallen cop's gun, he took it upon himself to empty the magazine. the lopsided grin he sends you broke your resolve more than yuta ever could.

"i'm sorry. it's nothing personal."

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cat-fire · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! It's me again (lol) Thank you for your analysis to my last question I really appreciated it and enjoyed reading your answer. Anyway this time I waned to ask you about the deliberate changes in Yashiro. We know that Doumeki has changed and matured. But wbt Y? Even do he claims he hasn't (and D thinks so too). I just don't buy it, after all he's still a person. And people change, and there's no way he didn't change at least a bit after his encounters with Doumeki. But how exactly? Idk we haven't gotten much of him after the time skip to know for sure how he has changed. I'd say he's lost some interest in sex, evidence? He wasn't really exicited when Misumi got violent. He just laughed his ass off. And when Inami called him to meet up, he wasn't really in the mood responding to his call with "nope I'm going to sleep now, do you have info worth my time?" And then arriving with a not very enthusiastic mood saying "Let's get this done and over with" sounds like he wasn't really looking forward to it, and saw it more as a nuisance. I don't think he's gone celibate (sobs 😪) but I don't think he's having as much sex as before.

Hiii! ❤️ So I just started rereading (probably for the millionth time in a row) the whole manga and I was focused several times particularly on Yashiro's dynamic and the changes in himself. I find it so interesting too how his sexuality shifts post time skip. If Yashiro changes? Well...

I do believe he has changed a lot on the inside, not only as a result of sex with Doumeki, but also from their separation. I mean... Yashiro couldn't forget him which brought a lot of his softness on the surface: he is dreaming about him and then wonders 'what does he look like, again?' I think that question is posed on a self mocking tone, just like many times Yashiro thinks to himself 'what is this?' (when he is jealous on Kuga and Kageyama going out with Doumeki) or after Doumeki blows him in the hotel room and he is taken aback by his mouth and touches and he is crawled on the bed saying again 'what is this?'. I don't think that he forgot Doumeki's face at all, he just comments on his dreams as he is shocked he never dreamt about someone else in the same way. He is maybe surprised to feel these things, and questioning himself like “why do you dream about him? What is it about him that makes me so restless?” is one way to face the feelings that won’t fade with physical separation. I think he could not forget about the tender moments that they shared, so Yashiro had, in these 4 years, to eventually come to terms with the fact that he discovered how love feels, even though he decided to run away from it.

Now, without mere intention, he has a new way to see things and refer to things through the lenses that Doumeki brought in his life. Since he felt romance once, and it impacted him, how can he go back to mindless fucking? It doesn’t taste and feel like it was with Doumeki. What if his mind wanted to get over it, but his body just ached to be touched and loved in that way that he just discovered through D? I really wouldn't be surprised if Yashiro, in all these years, was mostly doing it alone, thinking of Doumeki and his damn beautiful eyes, rather than go for random guys. Or maybe he subconsciously looked for Doumeki in everyone. I really refuse to believe that Yashiro did not change one bit in this time.

With Misumi, I think the panel where Yashiro is teasing him was made to show us that their relationship is 'homie' like, and Yashiro is comfortable with him, but not anymore into harsh sex. After all Misumi is like a dad to him, and he shaped his character a lot, regardless of what Yashiro chose in the end. But it’s so clear that Yashiro at 40 has settled a lot. And about Inami, honestly, I think Yashiro was never really into him. I just feel my skin crawling thinking of how terrible Inami is.

Ever since Doumeki is back into his life, I also think that Yashiro is hungry for more affectionate touches, going slowly towards accepting that he isn’t into harsh sex. There isn’t much evidence, indeed, about how much sex Yashiro has, but we haven’t seen any scene with anyone else than the steamy moments with Doumeki. Maybe he has no desire for someone else? Ahhh this is exciting. I really wish that in the future I’d see a Yashiro that takes Doumeki’s gloveless hands and asks him to touch him exactly the way that he did 4 years ago. Because I really think that Yashiro, even though he has to process a lot of things, he did change and has a lot of potential to make sex a pleasure thing, and not only associate it with pain and trauma. I really hope that I won’t be wrong and that there is space for healing.

#doumeki x yashiro #saezuru tori wa habatakanai #twittering birds never fly

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notanacousticsetcal · 4 years ago

Text

betty - calum hood

summary - a story based off of the song betty by taylor swift -- one of my absolute favorites from folklore and the most beautiful little story :) (y/n) in the role of the icon betty.

warnings - cheating

word count - 3k ish

mood board

a/n - check out the other 3 installments of the song series too! this piece is kind of out of the blue because I actually started it and finished it today which is extremely rare for me but I actually really like how it turned out. hope you guys do too. :) (def listen to this song -- its amazing). (btw this isnt the calum fic i was referencing in one of my previous posts, that one is still in the works.)

Betty, I won't make assumptions about why you switched your homeroom, but I think it's 'cause of me.

Calum sat in the back row, staring at Missy Grenshaw’s head feeling the hole in his chest grow larger. He glanced at your empty seat and frowned, his eyebrows scrunched together.

He heard Mrs. Martin start attendance and when she skipped over your name, the hole grew impossibly larger.

Calum tried to convince himself you switched because Mrs. Martin was a hard grader, but he knew that wasn’t the real reason.

He knew it was because you couldn’t stand to see his face.

Betty, one time I was riding on my skateboard when I passed your house. It's like I couldn't breathe.

Calum listened to the sound of a distant lawn mower and the rustling leaves and inhaled the smell of someone barbecuing in their backyard, trying to calm himself. He almost turned around and went home, his stomach grumbling at the idea of dinner waiting for him on the dining room table, but he didn’t.

He was only a block away from your house now. He pretended like he was riding down your street because it had the smoothest road, but Calum couldn’t lie to himself. Just knowing your room was in that house and knowing you might be sitting on your bed was enough to draw Calum near.

He didn’t let himself stop in front of the brick fronted modest house, but he wanted to. His legs ached as he kept pushing. He secretly hoped the sound of his wheels would draw you to the window. He held his breath in anticipation, but nothing. Not even a subtle shift in the curtains.

You heard the rumors from Inez. You can't believe a word she says most times, but this time it was true. The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you.

“(Y/n)!” A familiar voice chirped from behind you. You turned on your heel to face your friend, Inez. She was your source of gossip always, even if it was almost always speculation and barely ever accurate.

You weren’t expecting her sad features -- it alarmed you. “Are you alright, Inez? What happened?” You linked arms with her as you continued forward, heading for first period.

She nodded softly. “You aren’t going to want to hear this, (y/n).”

But if I just showed up at your party, would you have me? Would you want me? Would you tell me to go fuck myself or lead me to the garden? In the garden would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing? I'm only seventeen, I don't know anything but I know I miss you.

Calum tossed the tennis ball up and caught it. He laid on his bed, absentmindedly continuing to toss the ball up and down, his mind plagued with thoughts about you.

Your birthday was a week away. Calum let his mind wander off in endless possibilities.

He knew how much he had hurt you and the guilt ate at him constantly. A day didn’t go by that he didn’t beat himself up for being so stupid.

Nothing was worth more to him than your happiness and he knew that now. He would do anything in his power to fix what he broke, if you’d let him.

He wondered how you would react if he showed up on your doorstep that evening, a bundle of flowers in hand and an apologetic smile on his face.

He wondered if you’d slam the door in his face and ignore his knocks and desperate pleas.

Or if you’d hesitantly let him come inside, your guard up, and lead him to the garden to talk alone. If you’d let him ramble on about how stupid he was. About how badly he messed up.

About how much he fucking missed you.

Your soft smile and your positive, bright disposition and your generosity and selflessness. The way your eyes squinted when you laughed and the way your hair smelled.

Calum really fucking missed you.

But he knew he didn’t really deserve a second chance. And he was asking a lot begging for one. But he thought he at least had to try.

Or this mistake would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Betty, I know where it all went wrong, your favorite song was playing from the far side of the gym. I was nowhere to be found, I hate the crowds, you know that. Plus, I saw you dance with him.

Calum walked into the school alongside you, your hand in his and a bright smile on your face. You loved dances and seeing all your friends dressed up -- Calum felt claustrophobic, but he would do anything to keep that smile on your face, so he tagged along anyway.

Immediately, you tugged him towards the dance floor and he followed hesitantly. After only a few moments on the dance floor, Calum excused himself to the sidelines. He watched your expression fall, but you understood. You would never pressure him into anything he was uncomfortable with.

Calum felt like he could finally breathe properly from the edges of the gym.

He watched solemnly as the DJ began to play your favorite song. Your features lit up and Calum couldn’t help but smile, too. He wished he could go in there and dance with you but just the thought of being squished in between so many people made his pulse speed up and his palms sweaty.

He watched Dean approach you, clearly nervous, and his hands turned to fists. Calum had half a mind to go over there and punch him square in the face.

Calum knew he couldn’t do that, but he had fun imagining it.

Dean grabbed your waist, pulling you close, and Calum’s heart practically stopped.

He couldn’t take anymore, so with one last glance at your soft smile, Calum stalked off in an angry blur.

Calum knew if he had just asked, you would’ve reassured him it was only a dance.

Calum knew if he had just asked, everything wouldn’t have gone the way it did.

I was walking home on broken cobblestones just thinking of you when she pulled up like a figment of my worst intentions. She said "James, get in, let's drive,” those days turned into nights. Slept next to her but I dreamt of you all summer long.

The sun beat down on Calum’s back and he couldn’t wait to get home. He’d run out of water long ago, riding his skateboard in the early summer heat.

He stumbled home, skipping happily over cracks in the concrete, skateboard in hand.

He thought about seeing you after dinner. Taking you to your favorite tree and watching the stars. Or… looking at you while you looked at the stars. He thought about the way you danced with Dean. He still hadn’t told you how much it bothered him so he just let the resentment boil up until it stung the back of his throat.

Calum heard tires screech next to him, a familiar face in the driver's seat. Her red lipstick shimmered in the direct sunlight. Her sunglasses reflected Calum’s awestruck face.

“Calum, get in. Lets drive,” She said. Her lips quirked up into an inviting smile and Calum swayed hesitantly. “Aw, come on. I’ll drive you home.”

Calum looked around at the neighborhood once more, checking for witnesses, and then finally climbed into the silver convertible. As soon as he got in, his heart fluttered with guilt. His eyes filled with images of you, hurting, and he almost got out. Almost.

There was Dean again, haunting Calum through memories, smiling down at you, holding you. Calum gripped his skateboard harder, his knuckles growing white.

Her voice was so inviting and her car smelled so nice. The air conditioning hit Calum’s warm skin and soothed it instantly. Calum stayed.

Calum didn’t just stay, though. He could’ve forgiven himself for that.

Betty, I'm here on your doorstep and I planned it out for weeks now but It's finally sinking in. Betty, right now is the last time I can dream about what happens when you see my face again. The only thing I wanna do is make it up to you.

Calum tossed and turned in his sleep, getting more and more frustrated with the nerves. He would face you tomorrow. It would determine the outcome of everything he had been wondering and worrying about for weeks.

Tomorrow meant everything. He had one last night to drift into dreams about how you might react. The forgiveness or resentment. The smile or the tears. The hug or the shove.

He drifted to sleep with images of you playing in his mind. In your favorite sweater, his hand in yours.

Calum hoped with everything in him that you could see past his stupid mistake. But he prepared himself for the worst. You didn’t owe him anything.

So, I showed up at your party. Yeah, I showed up at your party. Yeah, I showed up at your party. Will you have me? Will you love me? Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends? If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? Will it patch your broken wings? I'm only seventeen. I don't know anything, but I know I miss you.

Calum straightened out his button down and shifted the flowers, watching a few stray petals fall loose and hit the pavement of your porch. He cleared his throat and listened anxiously while his heart pounded ferociously in his ear.

He could faintly hear commotion from within the confines of your home but he couldn’t make out anything they were saying.

His shaky hand extended towards the dark wood door and he knocked twice.

Cars were parked a block or two down the street -- all of your friends had already arrived.

Calum could lie and say he meant to be the last person, but in reality, he sat in his car for 30 minutes gathering up the nerve to come over there.

He could see multicolored balloons lining the walls inside. He watched as a figure appeared through the window, the tint making the figure only a silhouette.

The door began to open and Calum thought for a moment about running, but it was too late. Before he knew it, he was face to face with you again. For the first time in 2 months, you were looking at him and he was looking at you.

He watched as confusion and shock filled your eyes, and then disappeared, filling with pure curiosity. He didn’t notice any anger yet.

“Calum?” Your voice was like sugar. Calum’s knees felt weak.

“Yeah, hi (y/n).” Calum coughed. “Happy birthday.”

There were a million things Calum wanted to say and that wasn’t necessarily at the top of his list. He mentally face palmed. Your eyebrows knit together. “Thank you?” You looked down at the bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Are those for me?”

Calum looked down at the flower he almost forgot he was holding, too lost in your eyes to care about anything else. “Oh, yes. Yeah.” He stumbled, holding them out to you.

You took them without a word.

“So um…” Calum started, wringing out his sweaty hands. “I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute.”

You turned around for a moment towards the chatter coming from the kitchen and then turned back to face him with a sigh. “Why should I say yes?” You didn’t look angry… just tired.

Calum scratched the back of his neck anxiously. “You don’t owe me anything, I know that. I was hoping to apologize, if you’d let me. I know that I’m the biggest idiot on the planet and I broke your heart and there's no way I can go back and undo that, but I owe it to you to at least try to fix what I broke. You don’t have to let me, though. I wouldn’t be mad if you cursed me out or slapped me or slammed the door in my face. I deserve it. I hurt you, and I suck for that.” He took a deep breath staring at the ground.

Your eyes softened and you sighed. “Come on.” You grabbed Calum’s hand and tugged him into the house, shutting the door softly behind him.

Calum followed your lead as you stepped through the back door into the garden.

You’d planted more of the flowers you told him about months ago and Calum thought your vision was really coming to life. You pulled him to a small metal table in the corner and sat down.

Calum looked around again, taking in all you’d accomplished since you two last spoke. “It looks beautiful, (y/n).”

You sighed, proudly admiring the shrubs and greenery that surrounded you. “I needed something to take my mind off things so I kind of poured my soul into it.” You fiddled with your rings.

Calum knew he was what you needed to take your mind off of and that made him feel even worse. “What I did to you… it was unforgivable. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. I betrayed your trust and I hurt you in the worst way imaginable. That girl… it was nothing. It meant nothing.”

Calum watched you carefully as you took this in. Again, you didn’t look angry or sad — just emotionally drained. Numb. “I just… I guess I kinda just wanna know why. Was I… was I not enough?” Calum watched the tears well up that threatened to spill over and down your rosy cheeks.

He shook his head instantly. “No, no. Of course not. I spent a lot of time thinking about it because at first I didn’t even know. But I think I was just… jealous.”

You scoffed. “Jealous?” Calum blushed. “But of who?”

Calum inhaled deeply, prepared to completely embarrass himself. If it meant getting back on good terms with you. “Dean,” he muttered.

You couldn’t help but laugh. And not just chuckle — really laugh. “Dean? Dean Marshall. You were jealous of Dean Marshall?” You put a hand over your mouth to stifle the laughter. It felt nice to laugh after so many weeks of pain.

Calum rolled his eyes playfully. “Yes, Dean Marshall. When he danced with you at the formal I was pissed.”

You stopped laughing, seeing the hurt in Calum’s soft features.

“You didn’t really think I was interested in him?... Did you?” You asked.

Calum looked down, playing with a loose thread on his trousers.

You let out a heavy sigh. “Oh, Cal. I never had any feelings for Dean.”

“Deep down, I did know that. It was some petty revenge thing in my head. I should’ve just voiced my pain and I know you would’ve reassured me. I was so dumb. I’ve never regretted anything so much in my life.” Calum finished with an exasperated breath and you smiled at his passion.

“Do you want to come in for cake, Cal?”

Calum’s eyes shot up to read your face. You couldn’t be serious. You laughed at his eagerness and joy. “I would love to come in for cake,” Calum said easily.

You grabbed his hand, guiding him towards the back door and inside.

You ignored the series of gasps from your unsuspecting friends and found Calum a seat around the table. Nobody asked questions. They just smiled. If you were happy and safe, then they were happy too.

After some time, the sun was nearing the horizon and friends were bidding their goodbyes.

Calum hadn’t taken his eyes off you all night.

Your stomach tingled in anticipation whenever you caught his gaze.

Calum got a text from his mom saying she needed him home, so he begrudgingly headed for the door, his hand in yours.

“Happy birthday, again,” he whispered in your ear.

“Thank you for coming today. It must’ve taken a lot of guts.” You laughed at Calum’s expression.

“You have no idea. But I'm so glad I did it.” He looked down at you fondly and you felt as if your knees might give out.

Before you could stop and think about the consequences, you were leaning closer and so was he.

Your noses barely brushed and the air around you was heating. It felt like everything between you two was leading up to this very moment — this very kiss.

He stooped down a little lower, pressing his lips gently onto yours. You felt a rush of emotions. You had missed him all this time. You felt ready to try again - slowly building a mutual trust between you two again.

His lips folded over yours at a steady pace. It was soft and not rushed. It was perfect.

When he pulled away, your lips tingled at the absence of his.

You were startled by the sudden applause.

You friends had gathered in the hall and watched the entire thing. You hid your face in Calum’s shoulder.

Standing in your cardigan. Kissing in my car again. Stopped at a streetlight, you know I miss you.

You slipped into Calum’s car and he smiled fondly. He hadn’t been this happy in so long.

You grabbed his sweater -- the one that had once been yours -- and felt it between your fingers. “You still have this old thing?”

He smiled, his cheeks glowing a faint pink. He looked adorable with his curls tumbling down across his forehead. “It smells like you.”

You planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He had missed you. But he didn’t have to anymore.

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jungnoir · 5 years ago

Note

hello!! truth be told, i am not entirely certain if your requests are open and stuff, if they aren't, please forgive me, it's honestly my first time requesting so i'm really worried that i am gonna mess up, please don't hate me :((( do you think there's a chance that you'll write some youngk or wonpil fluff (or rival!au,,, or anything would be great,,, honestly) any time soon? if not, that's totally okay, i hope i didn't bother you, thank you regardless and have a great day!!

anatomically correct heart-shaped pretzel;

kim wonpil | food service is way more competitive and romantic than you’d think, believe it or not. rival!au. mall!au. | 1.6k words. | fluff, humor.

a/n: ahhh you’re okay!!! thank you for being so polite. I’m not officially accepting requests as I’m sort of just writing whenever I want to and dropping in. usually, I will announce that I’m writing requests on my blog and leave it open for a certain amount of time. however, I’m being pretty casual with things so I totally don’t mind this request at all! here’s rival kiosk workers at the mall with wonpil

“He’s at it again. Look at him; he’s got an evil look in those puppy dog eyes, that dead customer service smile, that high-pitched “have a good day!” pep in his step. I want to wring his neck like a Shake Weight.”

Your coworker, Dowoon, pauses in the middle of refilling the fruity pebbles toppings to give you a disturbed look, “Okay, Jesus. What is wrong with you?”

You glare right back, “It’s fucking pretzel boy Wonpil showing off again.”

“You mean doing his job?”

Grumbling a “showing off” under your breath, you turn around again to continue your angry brooding when you happen to catch Wonpil’s eyes between serving customers. His friendly smile quickly turns malicious, the boy having the audacity to drop his eyelid down in a wink before going about his business again, annoyingly unbothered by your seething not 20 feet away.

Dowoon was convinced that you were paranoid. Ever since that new pretzel kiosk popped up next to your once very thriving frozen yogurt shop, you’d been noticing business trailing elsewhere. People were trading gummy bears for salty bread and Wonpil’s “personable” attitude, something that you couldn’t quite get over. He wasn’t personable at all. You knew the real truth and yet no one believed you.

It had all started two months back when they’d first opened. You had thought Wonpil to look actually pleasant to talk to, deciding to befriend your new competition to be friendly which, unfortunately, massively backfired. Perhaps you were too bubbly, too optimistic on the first go, because Wonpil seemed to immediately bristle upon greeting. That was your first sign that things were going steadily downhill.

Your next sign was how aware you were that you were dominating the conversation. It seemed like no matter how much you tried to fish out of Wonpil, he wouldn’t budge. His answers were short, blunt, and disconcerting to say the least. After a few failed attempts, you’d promptly agreed with yourself that perhaps Wonpil was just one of those people who went to work, did their job, and left it at that. But then the customers came rolling in.

He was a totally different guy, the bastard.

Everything. From the way he lit up to the way his voice rose several octaves to the way he laughed out loud at every terrible customer joke. It was a pang to your admittedly offended heart. Was there something wrong with you? Did you smell? Was he just having a bad day earlier? It had thrown you pretty off for the rest of your shift, even catching the attention of one of your other usually aloof co-workers: Sungjin.

You just couldn’t place it. You obviously didn’t want to think he simply disliked you and only you, but it was all you had to go on. Why was he so averse to you when you’d done nothing to him? ...as far as you knew, anyway.

He was even nice to Dowoon! What did Dowoon have that you didn’t?!

And then, then, Wonpil started to notice you, but for all the wrong reasons.

It was through knowing smirks and condescending winks that you began to kindle your delicate hatred-baby for Wonpil. He knew he was peeving you off. He knew that when you’d watch him with that barely veiled look of yearning in your eyes for acceptance that he could simply look your way and you’d fluster. He wasn’t kind. He was a jerk. Wonpil was an absolute asshole and no one seemed to think so except you.

Your co-workers called it a friendly rivalry. You called it war.

He was super keen on stealing your customers too, drawing them in from your shop to get them to buy those damn pretzels, just to see you squirm and fumble to turn their attention back. When he’d win, he’d get this smug look on his face and gnaw his bottom lip with a hooded gaze cast your way, practically relishing in your anger and humiliation. You’d dreamt of all the ways you could make that little pipsqueak sing for mercy-

“Hey! Can you do your job or do I need to stand you on the other side of the counter as a cardboard cutout?” Dowoon’s annoyance is not easy to ignore even in the midst of your daydream, and unfortunately, that meant that you would have to come back to your reality. Your cold, Wonpilly reality.

With a lack of vigor that could rival a pubescent boy in band practice, you continue your shift in a disgruntled haze. You don’t want to think you’re being childish about it, but you can often feel Wonpil’s eyes on you while you work, and it’s enough to make you rightfully paranoid. You know the minute you look up that he’s going to have some patronizing expression on his face and, honestly, you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back from punching it clean off. Only fifteen more minutes, you think to yourself, counting down til the end of your shift. Fifteen more minutes and then I’m out of here.

Dowoon eventually leaves early, mentioning he has a date tonight and that he doesn’t want to be late, and you mumble an affirmative to clean and lock up for him. You’ve got no such plans for the evening, instead planning to relax and enjoy the weekend Wonpil-free. As customers slow to almost nothing, you decide it’s a good time to start closing up.

As you’re sweeping away the debris on the floor, you hear the sound of a fist knocking against glass and decide to look up, ready to shoo away a customer who came too late. Instead of a customer, it’s something much worse.

“Hey,” Wonpil says, one hand in his puffy jacket pocket, the other holding a small take-away bag from the pretzel place, “heading out tonight?”

You’re so stunned by his attempt at casual conversation that you forget to be mean, staring at him in confusion, “Uh... no. Why?”

Wonpil looks both relieved and surprised, clutching the bag a little closer to himself, “Oh... uh, well it’s just that... you know, it’s Valentine’s day. I assumed you had a date.”

Your brain is a Windows blue screen right now. Was it... oh, fuck, how could you have missed it? Today was February the 14th. You flush soon after. No, you had no date. “Nope... but I bet you do. If you came here to gloat about it, don’t even bother. I’m too tired to deal with you right now.”

A look of hurt flashes across Wonpil’s visage, “I didn’t... that’s not why I came over.”

“Then why?” You can’t hide the tired exasperation in your voice, “You closed up already, didn’t you? Just go home. I’m not in the mood.”

That same hurt flashes again and part of you almost wants to feel bad about it.

Wonpil reaches into the bag with a trembly bottom lip, “I-I came over to apologize. And to give you this.”

In his hand now is a heart shaped pretzel, but not just the traditional heart shape. No, it was anatomically correct. Scarily so. It was also piping hot and looked rather tasty after a long day of work. You rarely indulged yourself in the enemy’s goods, but... “What do you mean, apologize?”

“I uh... I kinda totally screwed up. The thing is, I don’t hate you like you think I do. I actually really like you. I know that I don’t show it and it’s not much of an excuse, but it’s just... when I first met you, I was really, really nervous. You were so kind and funny and attractive... I froze up,” your eyes begin to bulge as he holds the pretzel out to you, “and I couldn’t act normally around you. Then people started saying we were rivals so I ran with it. Anything to get you to look at me.”

You check Wonpil’s face to see if he’s lying. He’s not, as far as you can tell, but you’d been a bad judge of his character before, “That’s really stupid, Wonpil.”

Instead of looking upset however, he laughs lightheartedly... like you’d kinda hoped he would laugh around you all along. It’s a sweet sound. You don’t even want to wring his neck right now. “I know. I don’t expect that to fix anything, but I still wanted to give you something. You can stomp it or throw it in the trash or feed it to the raccoon couple near Macy’s, I don’t mind. I just wanted you to know that I’m a really stupid guy who has a kind of embarrassingly huge crush on you. Happy Valentine’s day, (Name). I hope... I hope that we can at least be friends. Or enemies with a truce.”

Sincere. He was actually being sincere right now.

You drop the dustpan and push the swinging half-door open to leave your little kiosk, watching Wonpil as he turns to face you, pretzel still outstretched. You take it form his hands and watch his shoulders deflate in relief. A little overwhelmed with the fact that he’d just confessed to you, you test the waters, “So uh... you busy, Wonpil?”

The boy blinks rapidly, “N-No. Why?”

You take a bite from the warm pretzel and almost let out a humiliating moan in content. Goddamn, this boy made some mean pretzels. How could you ever turn that down? “There’s a movie playing in the theater upstairs in an hour. You know, that really bad remake? You wanna catch it together?”

Wonpil lets out an immediate “Yes. But... what do you wanna do until then?”

For the first time in two months, you allow Wonpil one real, warm smile once more, “You can start by finally answering all those questions I asked about you two months ago, for a start. I’d like to get to know my rival a little better.”

#wonpil scenarios #wonpil imagines #wonpil x reader #wonpil fluff #kim wonpil #day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #day6 x reader #day6 fluff #day6 #majwrites #i'll... put this in my masterlist later its 2 am #askfjasijf

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chadbaegel · 5 years ago

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The First of Many

Chad Gable/Shorty G Fanfic

SMUT 👌

BACK STORY: Chad Gable has long been friends w/ a nurse that is on duty at WWE events, but the tension has reached its pinnacle. What will Chad do about it?

*cell phone buzzing*

As I glanced in the direction of my phone, I couldn't help but feel a little anxious. It was Friday night and I'd just gotten home and showered after the Smackdown taping. Chad had kicked Sheamus' ass in the ring tonight after a long drawn out feud between the two. He'd been so happy and been surrounded by fans and other WWE Superstars, that I didnt wanna butt in. I didn't get to talk to him like we normally did on Friday nights. Our usual routine was for him, Otis, and I to hang out and watch a scary movie or two in order to relax after Smackdown. I figured tonight would be different and that he'd be out celebrating, but as I scrambled to get my phone I desperately hoped that I'd see Chad's name popping up... Nevertheless, it was him.

I don't know why I was so nervous. We'd been friends ever since his American Alpha days, but it wasn't until the past year or so that something had changed. I guess I never thought I had a chance before then, but sometimes the way our eyes met across the hall or how he eagerly listened to me babble on about God knows what made me feel like there could actually be something there...

"Hey, Chad!" I said a little too eagerly as I answered his call. I heard him chuckle on the other end of the line. "Y/N, I didn't see you after my match. Where were you?" I frantically tried to explain, worried that he might think I didn't care about his win. But again, I just heard him chuckle. "Y/N, come on. You're my girl. Who else has had firsthand experience seeing and treating the bloody-eared mess Sheamus' has left of me in the past few weeks. Of course I wanted to see you and celebrate with you of all people!" I laughed and before I could answer, Chad continued. "Anyway, are we still down for our horror movie of the week tonight? Otis can't make it. He's... Dealing w/some Mandy stuff." (😭) "Yeah, poor Otis... Fuck Ziggler. But yeah, I'm still down. You sure you wouldn't rather do something else tonight though?" I was so shocked he'd still want to, tonight wasn't just any typical Friday. "Of course, Y/N. There's literally nothing else I'd rather do... Well, actually there is one other thing..." I heard him clear his throat nervously before continuing. "Anyway, I'll be at your room in a few minutes!" I was dumbfounded, but so freaking happy. Chad and I were actually going to spend some time alone together. My nerves were killing me, but it was so worth it.

When he came to my door he had the biggest smile on his face and he immediately swooped me up and spun me around. He was in such a good mood and I was loving every second of it. He proceeded to sit me down on my bed and we sat next to each other as I scrolled through our movie options. I felt him watching me and as I turned towards him our eyes met and he smiled warmly. My heart melted. I struggled to meet his gaze and as I started to turn away from him he spoke up. "Y/N, can I ask you something?" I looked back at him and nodded curiously. "Well... Why have we been tiptoeing for so long?... I know I'm equally to blame here, but still... What's holding us back?" I was absolutely stunned and I felt my face getting warm. "I... I'm not sure what you mean, Chad..." A part of me was still in denial. Maybe he meant something else?? "Come on Y/N, you know what I mean." He smiled as he reached for my hand, tracing my fingers as if they held the answers to his questions. "We've been friends for so long and up until now I was content w/ it being just that. But I got too comfortable in that little bubble of ours and now I'm realizing there's nothing at all holding us back. I mean, assuming you've felt the same way... About me." I leaned towards him, grabbing both of his hands. "Chad... I've felt the same way, but wasn't sure... If you saw me like that..." He let my hands drop gently and cupped my face with his hands, then softly pressed his forehead against mine.

I could feel the warmth of his body close to mine and the smell of his skin was simply intoxicating. I kept my eyes closed and wanted to take all of this in, so I'd never forget a minute of it. "Y/N, how could I not have feelings for you. I adore you..." He pulled away slowly, but only for a moment before he leaned back in and placed a kiss on my lips. I kissed him back and it all felt so natural. Before I knew it, he'd carefully positioned me on the bed and he hovered over my body, his kisses picking up pace and exploring the curves of my neck. My body responded to it, twitching ever so slightly, but enough for him to notice and begin to act on it. He pulled away to take off his shirt and then continued with mine. He stopped and bit his lower lip as he admired my pink lace bra. He then made eye contact with me and his eyes looked ravenous, for me. He quickly unhooked my bra and continued where he'd left off at my neck, his kisses forming a path down to my breasts. He cupped them with his warm hands and then took one in his mouth while he thumbed the nipple on the other. My entire body was radiating heat and I started panting. This encouraged Chad.

He licked my nipples and my body shook. Chad made his way back up to me and kissed me hard, slipping his tongue in my mouth. Oh how I'd dreamt of this. I kissed him back passionately and I felt his hard on pressing against me. We couldn't prolong it anymore. He got up to take off the rest of his clothes and then slid mine off. I was so wet for him and he knew it. My hips swayed with anticipation, my body needed him just as much as his needed mine.

I could feel both of our hearts pounding as he kissed me and before I knew it I felt him slide into me. I let out a gasp and I could feel my walls clenching around him. He started off slowly, picking up the pace as he directed his kisses on my neck. I moaned his name softly as I ran my fingers through his hair. My moans triggered him and caused him to speed up. Our bodies crashed into each other repeatedly with each of his thrusts and our body heat felt like our flesh was on fire. I couldn't help but pant and let out small moans. I could feel him swelling inside of me and I knew I would cum soon. "Chad... Ch... Oh Chad..." I whispered softly in his ear as my body was just about to reach climax. Chad continued to ram into me and I lost control. My toes curled and a wave of heat rolled through my body. My body became a puddle of love for Chad and I held on for the ride as he began to climax. I kissed his neck, nibbling on it and he let out a moan as he orgasmed. We kissed feverishly and I felt him slide out of me. He laid next to me and I curled up against him as he wrapped his arms around me, kissing my forehead. I looked up at him and his smile flooded my chest with warmth. "I love you so much, Y/N." "I love you too, Chad."

#chad gable #shorty g #wwe #smackdown #wwe smackdown #wrestling #wrestler #smut #wwe smut #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #chas betts #charles betts #chad baegle #this was my first attempt at smut lol

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found-in-another-me · 5 years ago

Text

BACK IN BLACK - Tony Stark x Reader

Oh my god. This one was weird. But we still go on with that Fifty Shades of Grey stuff. Will I ever be able to get away from it? Probably not.

After all I started this one after a talk to my best friend where I mentioned I would write the 50 Shades of Stark.

Whatever, let me know if you want to be tagged. I will upload shit as often as I can.

Warnings: Drunk!Reader, eehhhh... let me know if there are triggers.

Taglist: @tiphareth2018

Chapter 4 - class reunion

After Happy brought you home, you sat on your bed, unsure what to think about what he just said. Becoming his sugar babe? Many women dreamt of this, probably, but not you, actually. Apparently. You wondered why he wouldn’t want a proper relationship. Maybe he was afraid to get hurt, just like you. You cuddled into your blanket and let yourself drop down on your side. Right when you closed your eyes, your phone vibrated twice, the signal for a message. You took your phone to check it. A message from an unknown number.

“Hey, darling, I hope you’re alright. I wish you'd say yes.

- Tony"

You just tossed it into the next corner, trying to ignore him. He only made it worse. And how did he even manage to get your phone number!? As your phone vibrated again, you were about to turn it off, but instead of another message from Tony, it was one from your best friend from school.

“Hey, don't forget our class reunion tomorrow! Love ya!

- (F/N)”

Right. The class reunion. You already forgot about it, because of a certain someone. You turned off your phone for now. You needed sleep, more than that. Actually you just wanted to sleep forever. Slowly your eyes closed again, until you finally fell asleep in the small blanket-burrito you were rolled in.

The door bell made you wake up. How long did you sleep? Long enough so Tony forgot about you already? You took a look at your clock to realise it were only almost 11 hours of sleep. You needed them. There was no excuse needed for sleeping this long. Slowly you got up and walked over to the door, still in your pyjamas.

“(Y/N)!” Your best friend grinned at you and waved. You just blinked at her, before you took a look at your clock again. “Am I wrong or is the party tonight?” – “I know I’m early, but I’m sure, you need decent clothes for it. Let's go shopping.” Your inner couch potato immediately shook its head. Damn, you needed rest and people still wanted you to do stuff with them. You felt stressed out. “I'm not in the mood...” you mumbled, looking at her. “C'mon! You need to get out of your cave.” If she only knew that you already tried that and only got weird paperwork for a materialistic relationship. “Naahhh...” you shook your head, as a yawn escaped your throat. But she didn’t seem to give up and after some discussion you finally gave in, so she would stop trying to convince you. You couldn’t be convinced, but you did it anyway.

After getting ready for heading into the city, you already regretted going out with her. Actually you loved spending time with her but you wouldn’t want to be seen by anyone right now. You took a look at your phone, checking for notifications that could be important in any way. Some messages from Tony who desperately tried to comfort you when you were sleeping. Every message sounded more worried than the one before. You sighed and dared to answer.

“Mr. Stark, am I allowed to remind you, that I’m a human being that needs to sleep at times?”

Right after you sent it, an answer popped up.

“I’m sorry, darling. You seemed so bothered, so I got worried.”

You cocked an eyebrow at this message, not sure how to deal with it. “Who is that?” your best friend watched over your shoulder at your phone, trying to get a look. “No one important.” You turned your phone away from her, before she turned back again. You decided to give him one last answer.

“You worry too much. I’m busy now, Mr. Businessman, need to get some clothes for my class reunion.”

You put your phone back into the pocket of your jacket, burying your hands in them on each side. “Did something happen to you lately? You seem so stressed out.” You peered at your best friend from the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t tell her. Not yet. You didn’t know how to explain it to yourself, so how would you be able to tell her? You shook your head. “Just work.” – “We need to find you a good man... who distracts you.” Once again you wished, that she knew, but she didn’t and it made everything more difficult. “Please, don't play the matchmaker.” You sighed, laughing lightly, when she elbowed you into the side.

After walking through tons of shops, you were done and exhausted, but you seemed to have found what you searched for. Maybe you should send Tony a picture later so he would know what he could get. If you decided to become his sugar babe.

“Well then, (Y/N), I will see you later, right?” You just nodded, smiling, because it was a good decision to go out with her.

Once you were home again, you took a long and warm shower, before you started getting ready for the class reunion. You were proud of your make-up, because it looked like never before and your outfit – consisting of a pair of hot pants, nylon pantyhoses and a black blouse – looked inviting. You took a quick selfie, before you sent it to Tony. You threw your phone back to your bed, to make yourself a sandwich.

Your best friend picked you up in the early evening. You two even booked a hotel near the location so you didn't have to drive home later. When was the last time you went out to drink? Ugh, you didn’t know either.

The whole party was great. Your former classmates greeted you and complimented on your outfit. You drank a lot and danced with a lot of people. You felt free, nothing could ever stop you. You could impress the people here by what you did and what you were able to do, not like certain other guys who impressed you with everything they had. The sudden snap of Tony in our mind made your mood drop immediately and you stormed out to get some fresh air.

A look at your phone showed, that he still didn’t reply to your selfie. Your inner you huffed again. Why wouldn’t he answer? As drunk as you were, you got the wildest ideas. Was he with another woman? He was allowed to, right? You didn't even notice how your fingers danced across the screen, searching for his contact entry. And there you called him.

“It's late.” Was his greeting. Was he asleep? No, he didn’t sound like he was sleeping. “You're with another girl, right?” Tears were filling your eyes. A moment of silence lingered between the two of you, before he cleared his throat. “Darling, are you drunk?” – “Answer the question, Tony.” – “I'm working, where are you?” His voice sounded worried. “None of your business~ you would have to find me on your own, you little stalker.” He just sighed at that. “C'mon, why do I have to sign a contract to see you?” you didn't care if there were people that could hear you. “(Y/N), where the fuck are you?” You hung up the phone. No, he wasn't allowed to see you. For some reason you were mad. You wanted to leave. Wanted to be alone again.

Walking through the streets in the middle of the night, you just tried to get back to your hotel room. But you had to find the hotel first. It felt like you were walking for hours already. A car was right behind you, following you for maybe 10 minutes, before you turned around. It stopped and the engine turned off. When the door opened, your eyes widened. “Toooonyyyy~” you threw your arms into the air. “The busy man came to save me from my misery.” When he approached you, you took a step back. He cocked an eyebrow at you, apparently not sure how yo deal with a drunk you. “What are you doing here, Tony...?” You hoped your eyes were like daggers, even though he didn’t do anything wrong actually. “I’m here to bring you home, come with me.” Again he tried to approach you and this time, he succeeded. He just grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you closer – right into his arms. “You look good today...” he whispered into your ear, before he picked you up bridal style, to carry you to the car.

#tony stark x you #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x reader #tony stark #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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rogue-barnes-16 · 6 years ago

Text

CAREFUL, SWEETHEART (part IX/?)

Summary: sadness and alcohol can lead us to make a mess of a situation, and a mess can lead us to the biggest mistakes, but can the biggest mistakes lead to something else?

Pairing: Tony Stark x enhanced young!Reader

Genre: angst-fluff (with a bit of fun)

Tags:

Careful, sweetheart:

@tone-stark @mugglebucky @sofreakinmanyfandoms @cryforfandoms @lilulo-12 @rebeccaitsnotwhatyouthink @vxidnik @edwisenpai

Permanent taglist:

@notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace

Warnings: language, mentions of injuries (this part is lame, sorry guys)

A/N: remember when I said there were just 1-3 parts left? Well I'm not sure anymore lol. Just enjoy my chaotic series, sweethearts (^3^). Feedback is always appreciated <3.

Careful, sweetheart masterlist

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

TONY'S P. O. V.

“... Tony. I’m sorry for...”

“... I promise... ever again. Not even...”

“... said ‘I love you’, I meant it...”

“... sweetheart.”

I opened my eyes slowly, just to shut them again due to the painfully bright light of the room. I rolled to my side, wincing in pain. Goddammit every part of my body hurt.

I opened my eyes again, and this time I noticed it wasn't a bright light, it was just the sunlight.

I blinked a couple of times, thinking about what I heard. It had seemed Y/n's voice, but I highly doubted it. Maybe it wasn't even real, maybe I dreamt it. "Good Morning, Tony."

"Doctor Cho" I greeted her. I had to have been in a very critical condition if Dr. Helen Cho herself came to the compound. I tried to turn around again, but I was feeling too much pain. "so... That bad, huh?"

Helen walking to the opposite side of the room, so she was able to see my face. "well, it sure wasn't a scratch." for her scolding tone, I could tell she wasn't in the mood for a joke. "you fractured your cheekbone, badly." she added the last word looking into my eyes. "you even needed stitches. You also had two fractured ribs and a thoracic contusion."

I scoffed, which was a bad idea, since it only made my pain increase. "just a fractured cheekbone and a couple of bruises?" she darted me a deadly glance. "c'mon Cho, I came back with much worse things than that"

She pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing tiredly. "you had internal bleeding and an almost second-degree burn over your ribcage."

"wait" I frowned, placing my hand over my side, feeling the bandages covering said burn. I understood the fractured ribs and cheekbone, and even the thoracic contusion. I didn't really know why I had had internal bleeding, but the weirdest thing was the burn. "what exactly happened to me?"

Helen started to write down some things, checking her tablet while doing it. "Sergeant Barnes told me your suit shut down, and Wanda had to stop you from crashing. However, she ended up throwing you into a lake." she explained distractedly.

"what about the- fuck!" I hissed, trying to sit up and failing. Helen sent me a warning glance before going back to her notes. "what about the burn."

She shrugged, turning of a couple of devices in the room. "they didn't say anything" she walked to the door, disappearing from my view. "God morning, Natasha"

"Morning Helen" Natasha said. "is he awake?" I guess Dr. Cho nodded in response, because Natasha murmured an 'Okay' before I heard the door closing, followed by a few steps toward the bed. "you gave us quite a scare."

Natasha sat down in front of me, and I just grinned. "isn't it my whole purpose?" I asked jokingly, but I just earned a sad smile from her. "how did I get the burn?" I asked, every joking tone fading from my voice.

Natasha crossed her arms loosely, leaning slightly and resting her elbows against her thighs. "you were choking, so Y/n and Barnes broke your suit." I knew there was more, so I just waited for her to finish. "Y/n had to use her pyrokinesis, and her hands reached your skin."

"Oh" she had saved me. I didn't care if I had a burn, she had saved my life. Maybe, after all, I didn't imagine those words. Maybe Y/n had come here, and maybe, just maybe, she had said those three words.

"Anyway" Natasha got up from the chair smiling at me "you have to rest. Doctor Cho said you had to stay here for a few days" as soon as she said that, she made her way towards the door.

"Natasha" I heard her steps stop, and a questioning hum coming from her. "has Y/n come to see me?"

There was a few silent seconds before she replied. "No. She went to her room as soon as we came back."

Okay, so I had dreamt it. I don't know what I was expecting, though. After all, I had pushed her away, I had shut her out, and I had avoided her for a long while.

She probably had moved on, since it was supposed to be something temporary, something passing. We weren't supposed to fall for each other.

But I had fallen so damn hard for her, and I didn't even know when. Maybe she figured it out, and that's why she didn't try to talk to me again, she was really smart after all.

"Okay" I said, closing my eyes "thanks Natasha"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Did Helen let you get to work already?" Bruce asked. He came in to the lab with a frown showing up in his face.

"Nope" I stated plainly, discarding one of the parts of the hologram's left side. "But I don't work for her. I'm a free man who makes his own decisions"

"what the..." I glanced at Bruce, catching a glimpse of his shocked face "Tony, are you listening to yourself?" he got closer to me, however, I didn't look at him, but I noticed how he stared at my current project "that's Y/n's suit?" he asked confused. "I thought you updated it a couple of weeks ago."

I darted a glance at him "are you spying me now, Banner?" I questioned, more bitter than I meant to. "Sorry. Yeah, I did, but it needs more improvements" I explained distractedly redirecting my attention to the now incomplete design. "Wilson took her to the medbay this morning. He said one of her suit's external protections got burnt"

I saw how Bruce opened and closed his mouth a few times. "how do you know that? I mean- you know- I" he sighed, walking to his own work space "I thought you two didn't talk anymore?"

"we don't" I tried to sound emotionless about it, I tried to sound like I didn't care if we talked or not. And I prayed for Bruce not to notice. "I just saw her there when Cho was checking my stitches."

A few minutes passed by in a comfortable silence, until Bruce broke it "You know, I think you should talk with her." I looked up confused. "with Y/n, I mean."

"That's not happening" I replied, finishing with Y/n's suit and starting with Steve's shield's new prototype.

"you two are so..." Bruce let out a tired sigh. "you know, maybe she's just feeling guilty because she caused you a second-degree burn." he kept talking, turning on his laptop. "so go and talk with her." he stared at me before speaking again. "Now, Tony. Go to talk with her now."

I nodded, leaving the prototype over my table, and heading out of the lab, walking to Y/n's room. Probably Bruce was right. Probably she was feeling guilty and I was being an ass by ignoring her.

I knew talking to her would be awkward, but before anything else, she was my friend, and friends are there for each other.

I knocked her door a couple of times before she answered. "it's open" I took a deep breath before turning the knob and pushing the door, getting in her room.

I didn't look at her. Not while I was getting inside, because I knew if I did, I would probably back out, and I couldn't.

So when I closed the door, I turned around, realizing she had her eyes closed. It was logical, she was probably resting since she had gotten hurt earlier that day.

"Hey, sweetheart"

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cloversreblogs · 7 years ago

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Brass in the grey- Chpt. 9

Previous chapters (AO3 only): 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 Links: FFN.net, AO3, Wattpad Read on Tumblr: 7 / 8 / X / 10

Francis and Arthur apologise to each other

Pairing: FrUK

Genre: Modern AU, Artists AU

Chapter rating: T

Chapter warning(s): Arthur has a bit of a nervous breakdown at one point

He decided to rest for the rest of the week.

After a couple of days of resting and thinking instead of constantly having to push himself out to busk, he actually felt… better. Not completely healed, but better. Pretending to want to busk was tiring, anyway.

Over the past couple of days, Francis had reflected. He busked so that he could feel useful. Other than that? It was mostly because of the fear of doing nothing, being nothing, even. After he realised that those thoughts were irrational, it was easier to think about the problem.

Francis sipped the mug of coffee that rested in his hands as it rained outside. It was a calming silence somehow.

It was not uncomfortable like the silence of the park. The park's silence was a void that consumed anything and everything. Maybe it was something to do with the addition of the pitter-patter of the rain, the refrigerator's low hum, or the ticking of the clock, but it was soothing.

When he finished his coffee, he placed the mug into the sink, and sat onto the couch. He soon realised that he had sat on his folder, and pulled it out from underneath him.

It was quite bulky, so much so that the pages were sticking out. He had bought it sometime during June. As he flipped through the folder, he noted that there were only three empty pockets left.

Francis leafed through all the adagios, the concertos, and the gavottes before pulling them out of their pockets.

Without a second thought, he closed his eyes and ripped them. All of the music sheets that he had printed, marked, highlighted over the course of weeks, months even, gone in a matter of minutes.

At last, he let go of the last piece of paper. Ripped paper littered the floor around him. Only two music sheets, Autumn Leaves and In a sentimental mood, remained in the folder's front, pieces that Francis had never found the heart to throw away, despite the age.

He didn't know how to feel after tearing apart the music sheets. One one hand, he was irked at how he had destroyed so many perfectly good music sheets. On the other… he was… relieved.

As he cleaned up the scattered mess of sheets, a thought crossed him that maybe he should apologise to Arthur. He had toyed with the idea of doing so, but it had only remained as an idea. Even now, Francis wasn't sure if he was ready to apologise.

On the other hand, today he had been feeling much better today. It wouldn't hurt too bad, right? He grabbed the keys and left the apartment. Now would be a good time to do so.

Since that encounter with Francis, Arthur had found that his writers' block had returned.

His head was clouded by regret, so much so that the fuse refused to light. No matter how much he turned his thoughts away, it was still there. The regret hung onto the fuse, like glue. He knew why- ever since the last time they had seen each other, Arthur couldn't help but feel guilty.

He should've stopped himself just before the actual argument happened. Was he the reason that Francis had actually been forced right up to the edge? In fact, was Francis even unwell in the first place? He was disgusting. He shouldnt've intervened at all.

Arthur shook his head, and focused back onto the computer screen. To his dismay, he found that he had wasted 15 minutes from thinking about Francis.

He growled and slammed the laptop screen shut. Writing had always been a source of comfort for him. Back when he was a kid, so why couldn't he do that-

A quiet knock pushed him out of his trance. Who was that? His mind mingled with the possibility of Francis, but he shut it down. Why would Francis want to see him at all, especially after how he treated him?

A peep through the peephole proved otherwise.

On the other side of the door was Francis.

Panic started to rise up within him. Sure, he knew that one of them had to apologise to one another sooner or later, but never in a thousand years could he have dreamt for it to happen at all! Nevertheless, he took a deep breath in, straightened his shirt, and answered the door.

Francis glanced up, and smiled at the sight of him, but forced it down.

"I know you're mad at me, but-" A raise of a hand by Francis signalled him to stop. Francis took a deep breath in.

"I'm… I'm sorry… e-excuse me." Was he going to apologise? He said it so quietly, Arthur thought that his ears were playing trick on him. "For..." He took a deep breath in and cleared his throat. After he raised his head, Francis made eye contact and said:

"I'm sorry for yelling at you the other day. I- didn't know what got into me, so… so yeah."

Arthur was stunned. Francis apologised for something he wasn't even responsible for! He glanced to the side. How should he respond? He couldn't just say "apology accepted" and leave it like that, especially when Francis had mustered up so much courage to come apologise. That would be cheap and assholish. Jesus, why couldn't he think straight in these situations?

"No no, it's not your fault. I… we were probably both at faults, but honestly it's not your fault that you, e-exploded and whatnot. Erhm, it's natural? Jesus Christ, I'm sorry, I…" He took a deep breath in as he rubbed his temples. All the things that he had felt over the past couple of days were building up, and his nerves were starting to get the better of him. If he wasn't careful, his emotions would build up like water in a dam and overflow. "I shouldnt've stuck my nose out of your business and shit. I'm sorry for being a such bloody arse and judging you and seriously, I-I was so scared that I fucked you up permanently, ugh, I'm so sorry, Jesus, ugh fuck!"

A wave of panic crashed onto him as the dam walls burst.

And once it burst, it just wouldn't stop flowing. LHe could feel his breathing become more and more shaky as he took deep breaths in. His head started to throb, his heart was hammering against his chest, and his hands were clenched so much that they shook violently, his whole body shook, in fact. But those were all overshadowed by the sensation of tears pricking at his eyes.

He hung his head down. He was crying. He was actually crying! The disgust of it just made him cry harder.

At this point, everything around him started to close onto him, and his surroundings started to spin as nausea overcame him.

Suddenly, he felt himself being lead away from the hallway back into his apartment. He felt the couch's edge at his knees, and collapsed down onto the couch. The couch shifted as he felt someone else sit next to him- Francis.

"Try taking in deep breaths, OK?" Francis instructed as Arthur sat down. He drew in a deep, shaky breath before exhaling, and breath by breath, he felt more and more in grips with himself.

Breathe in, breathe out.

"That's it. It'll be over soon, I promise, I'm here for you."

He repeated it like a mantras until slowly, but surely, Arthur's crying slowed down.

By the time he was done, he was absolutely exhausted, and his cheeks were probably red hot. He must've looked like a mess right now.

"Here." Francis passed him a handkerchief which he took.

"Thanks," he muttered as he wiped away his tears and mucus with it.

Francis stood up, and grabbed a folded blanket that sat on the other end of the couch before unfolding it.

"Lie down," he calmly instructed. Arthur lied down, and Francis laid the blanket onto him.

"Sorry, I tend to get terribly emotional."

"It's OK, it happens to all of us. Rest for as long as you need to, OK? Do you want a drink or…"

"Sure," he muttered. "The tea's in the first cabinet at the right." At this point, he was too tired to care about his pride and whatnot. He heard Francis walk into the kitchen, and rummage through the cabinets.

"Which kind?"

"Chai."

As he lied down, he could hear Francis busy in the kitchen.

He sighed. It had been awhile since he had been taken care of like this.

A thought crossed into his mind. Was it fair? Francis had came to apologise, and now he was making tea for him. Christ, that wasn't right at all.

Furthermore, why did Arthur cry when the situation wasn't even about him? Who even did that?

Maybe he shouldnt've just let his emotions loose like that, and make everything about himself. He should've controlled them more, and then they could've left the apology cleanly.

When Francis came from the kitchen carrying a mug of tea, he sat up, and took it.

"Thanks."

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah. Thank you." He was about to take a sip when he stopped. When Francis cried a couple of days ago, he just left him without another word. This time, when he himself cried, Francis not only lended him a handkerchief but led him inside and took care of him, even after all the shit he put him through.

He snapped out of those thoughts. But what if those thoughts were wrong? What if it was just his habit of overestimating situations? Arthur's head started to spin. Drinking the tea would be ignorant. Rejecting the tea would be rude-

"Are you alright?"

Arthur glanced to his side at Francis, who looked at him, concerned. By then, he realised that he had been staring at the tea for awhile.

He placed the tea onto the table, and sat up straight. After taking a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and thought of what to say.

Arthur took a deep breath in, and fiddled with his hands. "It's… it's just not right for me to make you cry last week, and now you're here apologising for something that's not even in your control. And... now you're making me tea and lending me your handkerchief and overall just being much more kinder than you needed to be and just treating me decently even after all the shit I put you through last week." Frustration started to pent up inside of him as Arthur held his hands tighter.

He felt a pat on his shoulder, and glanced up towards him. Francis smiled at him reassuringly, with no hint of disgust whatsoever, and he felt a bit relieved.

"Arthur, look. Oh one hand, I did all this, because honestly, nobody wants to be left alone and uncared for, everybody needs a shoulder to cry on and…" he stopped his words when he remembered about Arthur's earlier words.

"Alright, you made a mistake the other day, but I understand. To be honest, I-I don't think that I would had accepted an apology from you after I broke down and such, anyway."

"Ah." Arthur nodded at his words. "Makes sense. But it doesn't dismiss the fact that I've been practically verbally harassing you and whatnot."

"Harassing?" Francis gave out a small chuckle. "Bit extreme, don't you think?"

"Hm. I, I suppose. Excuse me, I'm sort of at this shitty level of asshole and care-too-much, so… yeah. I just overjudge things too much." There was a brief pause from Francis after he said that.

"Arthur, look, I… forgive you. It was a mistake that you made the other day and so on and so forth. Erhm, maybe I was at faults as well since I should've been more… more clear about what I was feeling. Point is, it's past us now, alright?"

Arthur was still hesitant. Here Francis was trying his best to give him advice and such, but it wasn't working as effectively as the other had hoped.

He heard Francis sigh, and he looked towards him. Francis looked down, dejected.

"To be honest, I probably needed to face what I was going through, anyway."

"What?"

"You were right the other day, I couldn't just bottle up my emotions and problems and expect them to go away. I… bottled them because I thought that I'd hurt people if I was open about them. And now…"

"Wait, no no, it's not your fault either. It was something you couldn't control at the time…" Arthur remembered about how he was upset over his mental breakdown. It was something that he couldn't control either, and somehow, he felt… better about it. "Sort of like how I broke down today." Francis nodded, and he stroked his chin as he thought.

"You exploding and me exploding as well were out of our abilities, so maybe we could apologise over the things we do have control over. Hang on." Francis cleared his throat, and waited a bit before starting. "I'm sorry that I wasn't clear about how I was feeling. I was scared that talking about the bad things I've been feeling would, well, scare people away if you know what I mean. And… maybe I could've told you that I didn't want to talk about it." Arthur nodded.

"I'm… sorry for judging every single thing you did and pressuring you. I did it since it worried me alot to see you clearly bottling up your emotions, since…" he paused. He glanced over to Francis who listened on. Good god, this was going to be embarrassing. "You're… a… well, erhm, friend of mine, and I… hate to see you like that. I… sort of have a fear of being ignorant, so... that sort of adds to it." Friend. Huh. He had never thought that he would use that word.

"Well, maybe if you're worrying too much over me next time, you could ask "are you alright?" or something like that."

"Yeah, and you could reply with "I don't exactly want to talk about it" if you have to, cause honestly, we only just met two weeks ago and such and such." Francis snickered a bit.

"Feeling better now?"

"... A lot!" Talking about how he felt actually made alot of progress. "Though… there's still the thing about your job, and me about constantly overjudging everything. I… couldn't help with that, I apologise."

"Arthur, look, I think that it's OK not to be always be informative since, well, we are people, and there are things that we don't know. Besides, you tried to help all you could over the last week, even if it doesn't always turn out well. Well… I could go see a therapist if I have to."

Arthur thought. "Hm, I know this one therapist near here. Here," he grabbed a loose leaf of paper and a pen before scribbling down an address and passing it to Francis. "She's quite nice to talk to, and her office's really close from here. Actually, I think that I'm overdue for an appointment, anyway."

Francis looked at the address, and smiled. "Alright, I'll think about it!" The whole room seemed to lit up as Francis smiled, and Arthur actually felt… happy.

Francis and Arthur bit farewell. As Francis walked up the stairs, he let out a content sigh. The conversation with Francis today had cleared, dissolved the solid weight that had built up over the last couple of days, until it was lighter than air. The freedom from it was as if he had taken flight, as if he was free.

Too long had it been since he had felt this way.

When he headed back for the tea, it was lukewarm. Arthur didn't like cold tea, but he could let that pass for now.

Dinner was tense.

Over the past few days, he had been more clear of what he had been feeling. As a result, Gilbert and Antonio, usually loud people, became more and more quiet.

What was usually a time of hearty conversations and recounts had turned dead silent. Francis knew that it was because though he tried to hide what he had been feeling, it radiated a poignant air that you'd have to be blind to miss.

He put down the fork, to which they looked up towards him. It was so quiet, even the tap of a fork was enough to catch Gilbert and Antonio's attention.

"Francis? W-we've been, erhm, noticing that you were…"

"I know." Toni had never been the type of subtle comfort. At those two words, Gilbert and Antonio perked up. He sucked in some air, which helped ease tension. It was now or never.

"I've been feeling a bit depressed-"

"What?!"

"Look, I've been… been, ugh." He started to feel tears prick up in his eyes. Antonio handed him a box of tissues, which he gladly accepted.

"Thanks." After taking a moment, Francis said: "I've just been feeling a bit, well, erhm, u-useless?" It was much harder to say the word, especially since Gilbert and Antonio were the literal reasons he felt that way. "It's just the way that I get to hear how your days are going, while I don't have a job and such. I-I'm much better now, but… yeah. I've been feeling this way for awhile now."

"Fran... " Antonio was about to say something, but all words were lost. "W-we're so sorry."

"To be honest, I should've told you this earlier." They nodded, though there was uncertainty in their eyes.

"Is there anything, anything at all that we could do to help?" Gilbert asked.

"Well… maybe… you could try not to talk as much about your jobs…" he started to realise a flaw. In turn of him having to not feel as bad, he was asking Gilbert and Antonio to hide their emotions- the very thing that made him depressed. "But it's more regarding to me as it is regarding to you all, so, erhm, try not to take it too personally. Hm, maybe… maybe I could try out therapy for awhile."

"Ah. Sure. We'll think about it."

It's important to talk about your emotions with close friends/family in terms of mental health, since bottling them up just causes bigger problems later on.

#fruk #brass in the grey #aph fanfiction #aph england #aph france #my writing

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randomnessunicorn-imagine · 7 years ago

Note

U're a kind & bubbly flight attendant who puts everyone including ut/us skelebros into good mood whenever u serve food & drinks. The plane begins to descend so u go around aisle to tell people to put their tray table up; not far from skeles, a woman refuses to listen to ur instruction. She says, "in my country, i'm called a princess & i take orders from noone." Then u say, "well sweet-cheeks, in my country, i'm called a queen so i outrank u. Tray-up, bitch!" How skeles react?

{ Thug reader again ~ }

✈️ Sansy ;

He still felt stressed for the flight so he was not in the mood to hear arguments from strangers. His head was exploding because of the airsick.Why Sans was in this airplane, in the first place? Eh, it’s impossible to explain, so absurd!Sans was confused and he did not know why he was here, he teleported himself in this place, simply. Something went wrong in the teleporting process. Now he was here, seated next to a weird woman who said to be a princess and another person who said to be a queen, instead. He did not tolerate royal persons in general, so he felt very unlucky right now. Actually, he did not give a fuck about this situation; he was not the kind of person who interfered in other business (sometime he did not even care about his own problems). Do you think he is going to do something anyway? Obvious, no! Someone of your colleagues could see he was an abusive passenger here –he did not pay the ticket-, so he stayed silence during the entire flight. He did not want to be lecture by you so furiously because of his personal problems he cannot resolve!

✈️ Pappy ;

Papyrus was a person so gentle and calm, but he could not tolerate rudeness so you would not expect positive reaction by him, even if Papyrus was polite in everything he said. This was the first time he took a flight so he was so excited doing this new experience. That you and that woman ruined because of your bad behaviours. He was not a fun of the thug life, so he did not think all this stuff was cool. At all!Papyrus lectured you and the woman during all the flight telling you that you should do your job better because flight attendants must be gentle and smiling even when they met a rude person, so he was truly disappointed.

✈️ Blueberry ;

Sans was so excited for this trip because he has always dreamt to fly like a bird even if this was an airplane so he did not have wings. It was interesting, anyway.Sans was an educated skeleton so he was not going to sink to your level, you appeared so rude acting like this with a client even if this client was acting bad. Sans will show you how a real flight attendant behaves, so you should take some notes because Sans won’t repeat himself. Watch and learn!He took your place, simply and you will be so surprised by his actions, it was like he did this job before. Sans spoke with the princess woman with a sweet and polite tone of voice. He also used this tone of voice when he had to explain things to someone, or when he discussed with a person who misbehaved. It was possible, he was telling to the woman not so much good things but nobody could understand it because of his genuine smile (remember, he was not so innocent as you might thought but Sans knew very well how to use words and facial expressions).The rest of the flight proceeded very well with him as flight attendant, and nobody complained anymore.

✈️ Stretch ;

We could say he was here by mistake but he did not teleport himself here as Sans did. Papyrus was able to come into this airplane without being seen by the security. It was the greatest mystery of the universe. We’ll never know the dynamics of this crazy thing!Now he was eating some nuts, scratching his own arse. He was still wearing his pyjamas and someone looked at him with confusion, they thought he was a tramp or a homeless, and he smiled lazily at them with his dorky face, we could say he was high too. People were thinking the worst, honestly. Papyrus was too lazy to intervene because you seemed badass enough to handle the princess woman, so he enjoyed the show smoking his cigarette. Yes, he smoked in a plane. He would be the next one you will yell at, and he really deserved it. You were still unaware of his presence because you were too busy with the woman, but you noticed Papyrus when he started playing some thug life music on his phone, because you made him think about it. No, it was enough. Somebody stop him!

#randomnessunicorn-imagine #anonymous #ask #undertale headcanons #undertale scenarios #imagines #undertale #underswap #sans #papyrus #x reader #thuglife #thug life reader #badass reader #bossy sassy reader

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kalimarsdreamlog · 7 years ago

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Dream 137: I'm Not a Vampire, Really! Aka Double Spirits

This one gets a tad weird and rambly, but this is another one of my favorites, enough so that I’ve drawn soooooo much stuff for it. Only a few illustrations are here for the time being because a lot of them are crossovers, but all will be posted in time! Why are the others crossovers? Well, actually, I’m writing a story based on many of my favorite dreams, with this one happening to form the main structure. Anyway, moving on!

Oh, and by the way, I had this dream BEFORE I got into Yu-Gi-Oh. Just putting that out there.

So I dreamt that I got killed by some tribe of people way long ago, but they put me on this altar that brought me back to life. I think it was punishment for offending them, though I don’t remember how. Granted it had come down to a fight, me vs four or five of them. They had these two-pronged spear-looking things and wore very little armor. I can infer that they did not fear death, between their little armor and the fact that they made me immortal as punishment for my alleged crimes. Anyway, I came back after bleeding out, but my spirit split into two different parts. (More under the cut)

(Excuse the gore. Couldn’t get this out of my head until I drew it. Somewhat ironically, this was done on the back of a forensics worksheet. I had already taken the blood unit in forensics so the spatters are all meticulously done to tell a story. Anyway, moving on.)

Each half got different powers. Since we were already dead, we both basically got immortality. It was a middle-earth type world that we were in, just to explain why I got killed by a tribal people and why stone altars worked. (I was confused about why they just let me bleed out on the darn thing instead of just getting it over with) I was also very male because back then women weren’t allowed to go out adventuring or to war. Anyway, I was the more serious of the two halves of my spirit, and I came out of the ordeal looking younger than I had before, while the half who actually had a sense of humor (but not obnoxiously so) came out looking the same age as before I was killed. For some reason, he became a vegetarian. Also for some reason we both had to consume different things to keep up our powers and our health. My powers (other than flight) were all oil and plastic-based. It was weird. I sweated plastic and could control engines because I could control the oil, and I could melt and re-set plastic at will. I was also pretty good at fighting because of the time I came from. My other half though? I have no idea. He was really smart and for some reason I looked up to him, but I don’t remember what his powers were. We could normally read each other’s feelings if we weren’t too many miles away from each other because we were both originally the same person.

My other half was better at faking our way into records in society. He was smarter academically and strategically. I was stronger, had more common sense, and relied on my instincts. He got the positive emotions, while I got the negative ones. It didn’t normally matter when we were together though, since we shared each other’s feelings, and between the two of us we had a full range of emotion. One thing that I had that he didn’t was the power of flight (because I can always fly in dreams) and a weakness to sunlight. We couldn’t figure out why.

Years, decades, at least a century passed. We had gone through schools, orphanages, families, wars, streets, and lots of houses over time. I looked about sixteen, and he looked eighteen to twenty. Of course we aced our history classes when we took them. Some time in the middle I lost track of him. I couldn’t even feel his emotions anymore. I was alone. For someone as old as I was it wouldn’t have been so bad, but we had just been sparring in the street and even though I was more powerful he STILL beat me in one tough hit.

(Ignore the bad math grade on the other side please)

He was the only one who could do that. My powers exhausted me quickly, so when we were faced with a semi barreling down the street all we could do was hang on to the underside until it stopped. Well, I was weak from exhaustion (and losing the fight) and couldn’t hang on, and I rolled to a stop on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I yelled for him to let go until I passed out.

When I woke up it was dark and I couldn’t feel his presence. I had been on the side of the road in the sun for hours, and I feebly flew around in an effort to find my other half back. Without him I was only half a person. I eventually got lost and checked myself into an orphanage to have a place to stay for the night since I didn’t know the way “home.“

I was sent to school the next morning, where people thought I was a vampire because of my aversion to sunlight and the fact that I knew so much more about the last wars than I should have. On the bus afterwards I was eating some candy and someone pointed at me and said, “Hey! The vampire’s got blood in his mouth! He must have bitten someone!”

“I don’t have blood in my mouth…” I put my hand up to my mouth to check and it came back covered in red. I THOUGHT it was the candy, but you know it was starting to taste an awful like blood… “What the shit?” Everyone took that to mean that I was indeed a vampire, and INSTANT SOCIAL OUTCAST. I guess my answer to this one girl’s question didn’t help either.

“What does it taste like?” She asked.

“Haven’t you ever tasted blood before?” Was my ever tactless response. Seriously though, most people know the taste of blood, right? Sucked on a finger with a paper-cut, accidentally bit your tongue, got hit in the face or some lethal wound that left you coughing up your life? No? Oh wait that was just me. Well then.

I eventually left that orphanage (and school) before they could notice that I wasn’t aging. I wasn’t sure where to go next, so I was on the streets for a while. That was fine. I got by for another couple years. I found one of our old houses from when we could still blend in enough to have friends. It was old now, very old, having been from a time when places like the Shire were considered modern. (Some decades since then the world modernized a bit. The bus is a good example.) Anyway, I lived there for a little bit which was a fairly happy time. Someone bought the house though (I was basically squatting on the property) who happened to be a priest. Being a good Samaritan, she said she needed some company anyway and would be happy to share with me if she could be my surrogate parent. A bit of an odd request, but who was I to refuse?

So one day I left the bathroom after a shower and sneezed. She politely said, “bless you,” and since she was a priest suddenly the water in my hair turned into holy water and GOD DANG IT FELT LIKE MY SCALP WAS ON FIRE and I was reduced to screaming profanities while trying to dry my hair as fast as possible without burning my hands too.

“Thanks, ‘MOM!’” Augh! I really wasn’t a bloody vampire, why did holy water hurt me?! Dang stupid tribe.

After drying my hair enough that it only felt like it was being sunburned I hurriedly pulled on some clothes and fled from the house. It was nice but now the head of the church thought (correctly?) that I was some unholy demon and I did NOT need an entire church after me. I started up the engine of the nearest car via petroleum-powers, hopped in and then turbo charged said engine using said powers to make my escape as fast as possible. Some miles away I was boxed in by four other vehicles and forced to stop in, surprise! The middle of nowhere again! Way more people than I expected poured out of the cars, all armed with fists, knives, and several classic anti-monster things. I could take the former. I was a decently skilled fighter back in the day after all, now with countless lifetimes of practice. But could I fight them all off without exhausting myself, in the sun, with no weapons and probably against things I didn’t even know could hurt me yet? I was filled with determination not my own, and threw the first punch.

I heard another engine pull up and hoped it wasn’t another car of enemies to fight. But when the door opened I was hit with a wave of emotions I hadn’t felt in a long time. My other half!! He had…grown? I thought about it (still fighting of course) and realized that I had probably aged a bit in his absence as well. If we had aged while we were apart, albeit slowly, then being together must have stopped that somehow before. So we were stronger when we were together, huh? With him back, this fight was sure to be easy!

Oh so he got stabbed at some point during the fight and it looked like liquid nitrogen poured out and froze his enemies. So I guess he had either air or ice powers? Actually I think it was air. That would explain how he was able to take me out with one hit so easily. He must have used air pressure to power the force behind his hit.

This dream left me in a weird, quiet mood for a long time after having it. I got so used to waiting and watching the world go by in the dream without really interacting or getting involved with the world that I was pretty spacey once I woke up. To be fair, I had spent what felt like years as a different person. People kept asking me what was wrong. Oops?

If you’re curious, the other drawing was of me/him on the bus discovering that the candy looked like blood.

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