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the-hidden-writer · 4 years ago

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And Into The Fire

Chapter 1: A Phone Call

Summary: Months after the Mitchells saved the world, Linda gets a phone call asking if she's seen two defective Pal MAX bots. Powerful people are after Eric and Deborabot 5000, and it's up to the Mitchells to protect them.

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A Phone Call

It all started with a phone call.

6 months had passed since the “robot apocalypse”, and the world had fallen back into normality. In fact, since the robot apocalypse was so brief, it was now nothing more than a memory and a conversation topic to use as small talk. Things like “Where were you when the robots took you?” or “What did you do inside the fun pods?”. All in all, life had gone back to normal.

But not for the Mitchells. No, their lives were probably changed for good.

Katie had settled well into college. Now that she finally had her Dad’s approval, she felt free to have as much fun as she wanted without the burden of letting down her family. She regularly sent them updates of her work, and it made her insanely happy when she heard that Dad had made an effort to watch them fully, even if he didn’t quite understand them. That was okay though. It’s the thought that counts.

Back at home, things weren’t the same without Katie. Every time one of them stared too long at the empty chair at the table, it felt like a little stab to the heart. The Mitchells were a team, despite their differences, and one missing member was enough to knock their whole household off-kilter.

But they’d still managed to form a similar routine to their old one, just with one less Mitchell. Just Rick, Linda, Aaron, Monchi… and Eric and Deborahbot 5000.

The addition of the two childlike defective androids to their family was the biggest change of all. Once Pal was defeated and everyone was free, the pair had simply stood and looked confused in the midst of it all. The Mitchells (still high on adrenaline) had turned to leave when Eric called out:

“Mother! Wait!”

When he had the family’s attention, he continued. “Are you… satisfied?”

“Huh?” Rick voiced all of their confusion.

“Are you satisfied?” Eric repeated in the same, dry (but strangely uncertain) tone.

When nobody replied, Deborahbot had attempted to clarify. “Are you satisfied... with our performance?”

It was at that moment that a feeling of dread began brewing in Linda’s gut. She knew little to nothing about robots, and less about computer language, but something about the way the bots were speaking resonated with her. Katie had gone through a stage a few years earlier where she needed validation to stay confident but was too anxious to directly ask for it. She wasn't even sure if robots could have anxiety, but...

The fact that this seemingly unrelated memory had sprung to mind was enough for Linda to make her decision.

“They’re coming with us.” She stated firmly, and that was that. Rick had tried to protest but his argument was weak and, after taking one look at the bots that helped save the world, he couldn’t say no to their wobbly faces.

So Eric and Deborahbot came home with them and unofficially joined the Mitchell family. Luckily for the Mitchells themselves, the bots’ shenanigans were enough to help fill in the void left by Katie. The family had found their routine, they weren’t being hounded by the press anymore, and they’d found their new normal.

And then one ordinary day, the house phone rang.

Before Linda (the only human in the house at that moment) had time to react, two identical shouts of “Unknown number!” came in from the living room.

Eric and Deborahbot announcing the caller had been endearing at first. Each time any phone rang, they would happily shout the caller’s name straight away.

However after a few months of it, as much as Linda hated to admit it, it had gotten old and more than a little annoying. But the boys couldn’t help it and it brought them pleasure, so Linda had decided to let it slide for the time being.

Then when the phone rang after a particularly exhausting day and the bots had called out the name of a work colleague, Rick snapped. He yelled at the bots in what Linda thought was a very harsh way- so harsh that she was certain that they would be crying if they could display human emotions.

Rick had felt extremely guilty later that night and apologised (due to Linda’s nagging) in the morning. The bots immediately forgave him, but Linda noticed during the following week they would fall silent whenever Rick passed them or when the phone rang. To try and make up for it, she promised them that they could shout the caller’s name whenever Rick wasn’t home. They’d hugged her when she said that, and Linda felt like she’d done something right. It was a nice feeling.

“Mother! The phone is ringing!” Deborahbot called, snapping Linda back to the present. She’d been lost in her memories for a moment, so she quickly ran to answer the house phone.

(The bots weren’t allowed to answer the phone for obvious reasons.)

“Hello?” She answered, smiling when she noticed Eric and Deborahbot peeking their heads around the door to watch her.

“Hi, uh, is this the Mitchells?”

The voice on the other end was familiar, but Linda couldn’t quite put a name to it. Was it a parent from one of her school’s kids? No, because then why would they have her house number. Then who?

“Yes, this is Linda Mitchell. Sorry, who is this?”

“Uh, hey, it’s Mark Bowman.” So that’s where she recognised the voice. It belonged to the man whose face had been plastered all over the news and had narrowly avoided jail time for causing the robot apocalypse.

“What can I do for you, Dr Bowman?” She asked, trying not to let the sneer into her voice. She also tried not to notice the way Eric and Deborahbot visibly stiffened (an accomplishment for them) at the sound of the name.

“Right, um,” the man sounded oddly hesitant, “as you probably know, I’ve been going through a lot of official checks, to prove that the robots no longer pose a threat and stuff.”

His hesitance made sense then. He was probably being held at gunpoint by the CIA.

“Mhmm.” Linda nodded while simultaneously using her free hand to shoo her boys away. She didn’t know whether they could listen in to phone calls or not, but her instincts were telling her that they would not want to listen to whatever their creator was about to say.

“Well one of those checks includes making sure that all the Pal Max bots are permanently offline, you get what I’m saying?”

Linda wishes she didn’t. “Yeah.”

“Let’s just say that one took a while. Each bot has a unique serial number and was designed to send out a notification to Pal Labs if they got completely broken. And since there are like, millions of these things it took ages to sort them out, haha.”

“Understandable.” Said Linda pleasantly, although her motherly instincts were firing off the charts.

“So, uh, long story short there are two of these Pal MAX bots still missing. The rest have all been accounted for from these distress signals, but these ones seemed to have disconnected from Pal servers before the mass shutdown. Since they’re still online I’m guessing they’re defective.”

Linda felt a sudden, impulsive urge to kill Mark Bowman. This was not a first-time occurrence.

“So this is basically a super long way of asking if you’ve seen any rogue Pal MAX bots still online anywhere? Maybe back when you were saving the world?”

She had to resist the urge to hang up right then and there. Instead, she put on her sweetest teacher voice. There was truly no better way to mask her emotions.

“Hmm, no, sorry I don’t think we did.” She paused. “Even if we did, if the robots are defective then surely they can’t be that dangerous?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Bowman exclaimed suddenly before clearing his throat and composing himself. “But uh… these people wanna be thorough. Can’t risk another apocalypse, y’know?”

Linda was about to respond when she heard a strange beeping sound on the other end, accompanied by shuffling.

“Uh, thanks Mrs Mitchell sorry again about the apocalypse bye-”

She’d been hung up on before she had time to react to Dr Bowman’s words.

On the inside, she was glad that he hadn’t pressed further about the missing defective robots. She’d been half-expecting him to already know their whereabouts and for there to be a confrontation.

But there hadn’t, and he’d hung up, and something about the whole thing seemed off.

She began to formulate a plan in her mind. Firstly, her robo-boys’ safety was the top priority of the situation. Once Rick came home she could tell him about the phone call and they could think of protection methods more clearly.

All she knew for certain for the time being was that the bots wouldn’t be leaving the house for a while.

~-.-~

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

If the beeping wasn’t startling enough, the aggressive hand signals the agents were sending him caused him to panic.

He decided to hang up quickly. “Uh, thanks Mrs Mitchell sorry again about the apocalypse bye!” It probably sounded rude, but he really couldn’t care at this point.

“So…” he nervously began, looking up from the phone screen but not wanting to make eye contact with any of the agents. “Did you find anything?”

“The call was intercepted by two separate individuals.” One of the younger agents seated at a computer piped up.

Mark gulped.

“It seems as though we were right, Dr Bowman.” Said Agent Ward, the CIA woman who had first initiated the search for the missing Pal MAX bots. “They’re targeting the Mitchells.”

Taking a deep breath, Mark tried to calm his nerves. He’d lost almost everything in the span of a few months- a good chunk of his self-confidence included.

“Now what?" He asked. "You’re gonna warn them, right?”

“Find them yet, Travis?” Agent Ward asked another of the agents, ignoring Mark completely.

“Hey! You didn’t answer me!”

“We’ve managed to trace the interception to its sources, Ma’am.” The other agent replied, also ignoring Mark. “The coding here does look like Pal MAX, but we can’t actually access it. Since they’re online, the defences are strong. It would take a few days to get through the firewall even with Pal Labs resources, let alone commence a rewrite.”

The agents only turned their attention back to Mark when he snorted when trying to hold in a laugh.

“Of course it’d take ages,” he scoffed, “these are Pal bots. They’re designed to be pretty much impossible to be hacked by humans.”

“Well then,” Agent Ward towered over him intimidatingly, “you’d better get to work.”

Comments make my day! :)

#the mitchells vs the machines #tmvtm #fic #tmvtm eric #eric tmvtm #deborahbot 5000 #eric and deborahbot5000 #eric and deborahbot #linda mitchell #mark bowman #and into the fire

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alison-anonymous · 5 years ago

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♡ i want you back ♡ t.l. pt 1

I Want You Back ♡ Tom Lucitor

Requested: nope, I came up with this one on my own! SEND IN TOM LUCITOR REQUESTS PEOPLE! LET’S GIVE THIS DEMON THE ATTENTION HE DESERVES! Guys I even proofread this to make sure it was good💖

Warnings: haha ANGST/sexual tension

Summary: sort of a continuation of Miss Understood in which Tom and the reader are undeniably, unconditionally in love, but when he begins to show her the true side of himself with his anger issues, the reader’s parents force her to break up with him. But Tom is not willing to give up that easily ;)

♡♡♡

Life had recently became hell for you.

The one person, or demon, that you loved more than anything in life was the one that your parents were forcing you to say goodbye to. They thought that having their human daughter date a demon prince with three eyes, fire powers, and an extreme anger issue was completely dangerous and something to be stopped immediately. The day that they chose to break the news to you was when you had Marco and Star over...

“Mom, please,” you had cried out, choking on you tears as Star and Marco hid in your room, silently listening to every word with tears in their eyes as well. “I love him!”

“You can’t love a demon, Y/n,” your mother threw her hands up. “You either end it now or you are no longer welcome in this household.”

You gasped, as did Star and Marco, feeling as if though a knife had been stabbed straight into your chest. “Y-you wouldn’t seriously-”

“I would,” your mother snapped, crossing her arms over her chest as your father stared daggers at you. “End it or get out.”

Tears of frustration and heartbreak streamed down your face and dripped onto the carpet as you stared in disbelief at your parents. They wanted you to break up with the person you loved more than anything. Tom was your everything, and you loved him even though he had problems - at least he was trying to get better! And you knew he would never dream of doing anything to hurt you! Your parents, unfortunately, thought otherwise. You drew in a shaky breath as you ran a hand through your hair, stifling another sob. What choice did you have? Leave home? Where would you go? You loved Star and Marco, but there was no way you would impose on the Diazes with another mouth to feed.

“Fine,” you muttered, feeling your heart shatter in your chest. “I’ll break up with him tomorrow.”

And with that, you raced up to your room as fast as you could, but the second you shut the door and saw the sorrowful faces of your two best friends, you crumbled to the floor in a heap of sobs as they wrapped their arms around you and held you tight enough so you wouldn’t fall entirely apart...

♡♡♡

This was it.

You had set up to meet Tom at the spot where he took you on your first date, by the Deadman's Cliffs where you could see the sunset perfectly as long as you didn't stand too close to the drop. You told him you had something to tell him and your heart shattered a little more at the thought of how he might react. You were staring in silence at the view when you heard the familiar sound of the dimension ripping, and the love of your life stepped out. The second he laid his eyes on you, all three lit up.

He levitated himself over to you through the fire from his boots and landed gracefully on the grass, holding out a flaming rose to you with a smile on his face. "Hey there, cupcake!"

Even just his mere presence made your insides soften as you tenderly took the rose out of his hand, watching with mesmerized eyes as the flames continued to flicker. It reminded you of the flame you carried for him... the one you had to extinguish. You turned back to him, only to find him staring lovingly at you and felt the tears begin to well in your eyes as you held the rose back out to him.

"I... I can't accept this," you choked out, staring at the ground out of fear your eyes might give it away.

"What? Why? Darling," he tenderly reached under your chin and lifted your head to meet his eyes. The second you laid your e/c orbs on his three ruby ones, you could almost feel yourself about to swoon. But instead, only tears welled up. "What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything."

"T-Tom," you stuttered, trying desperately to work up the courage but it was near impossible with his hand lingering on your cheek. You gently grabbed it and pushed it down. "I t-think that we n-need to..." You couldn't finish. You just couldn't. The floodgates began to crack as a tear slipped out of your eye, rolling down you cheek, causing Tom to panic, quickly wiping it away with concerned eyes.

"I think w-we need to- SHIT!" You suddenly snapped in frustration at your incompetence and stepped back from him, trying your best to ignore the hurt and confusion on his face as you broke his heart with your words.

"I think we should break up."

Shock and heartbreak flashed across his face as the flaming rose was extinguished and slipped through his lavender fingers, falling onto the ground, forgotten. "W-what? Y/n, you can't be serious. I thought things were going well, I-" he suddenly stopped with his hands thrown up midair. It was as if though a light bulb lit up atop his head as he turned his gaze back to you. "Wait... this is your parents, isn't it? They don't want you with me?"

He got it right on the head. He knew you too well... you tried your hardest to comply with your parents wishes and make it seem believable, but the shattering heart in your chest and the tears streaming down your cheeks and the sobs coming from your throat made it impossible to utter any words at all as you stumbled slightly, knees weak. He rushed to catch you, his hands warm to the touch. Even though you loved feeling his warmth, you forced yourself to push him away and wrapped your arms tightly around yourself as the tears dripped onto the grass.

"I-I'm sorr-" you couldn't even get out the last syllable as another sob ran through you. Tom reached out to you once more, only wanting to comfort the love of his life as she stood there, crumbling before him. But you couldn't let him.

"Y/n, please don't do this," his words came out tattered as tears welled up in his own eyes too. You had only ever seen him cry once before, and you most certainly weren't expecting the next words that came out of his mouth.

"I... I love you."

You froze. Wide eyed and completely in shock as even the tears had stopped at those three words. You had been dating for months, and this was the first time either of you had said it, you had agreed that you weren't quite ready yet.

He... he loved you. And as you looked over his adorable horns, lavender skin, dry palms, pointy teeth, and three gorgeous ruby red eyes, you knew that you were completely and utterly in love with him too.

"I love yo-" but... You couldn't say it back. "I... I can't, Tom."

His eyes practically showed you how you shattered his heart as he tried one last time, stepping closer to you and gently cupping your cheek, staring you deep in the eyes.

"Y/n," he whispered with half-lidded eyes. "Please."

Your insides felt as if they were on fire with his closeness. And no matter how much you wanted to pull him tight, kiss him passionately, and tell him you loved him, you knew you couldn't. So, you did what you had to do. You forced yourself to push out of his grasp, and ran off in the direction of Marco's house, trying not to let the tears blurring your vision cause you to trip and fall as Tom's shouts soon faded away.

♡♡♡

Needless to say, you and Tom both took your breakup very hard. While you stayed in bed most days with Star and Marco lying down next to you, trying to get you to say something (anything!) as they gabbed on endlessly about everything and nothing, Tom was taking his anger out on his people and then sobbing into his pillow before punching a wall and then sobbing into his bunny and the cycle of hatred and sadness only continued from there.

It took you a full 3 weeks with Star and Marco bringing you homework and such for you to finally leave your bed. Of course, your room was where your best friends spent most of their time because if you were down, they all were down. Unfortunately, you had only made it to the living room before you collapsed onto the floor and refused to get up, so Star conjured up a unicorn to carry you back to your bed. This process continued until after a full month you were finally able to leave the house. Sure, your eyes may now be dry and you may not look like a Raggedy Anne doll anymore, but your heart was still shattered. You heart belonged to Tom, and no matter what your parents did or said, he would always have it.

As the weeks drawled painfully on without you ever seeing Tom, you began going back to school with Marco and Star and you did your best to concentrate, to move on. But... You knew deep down that you couldn't. Marco and Star did the best they could to soften the blow, always sweeping you away to concerts or parties or get togethers with Pony Head (who threatened to kill your parents once you broke down after telling her about your breakup). But none of it mattered because he wasn't there.

But while you were desperately prevailing to move on, Tom was the exact opposite. After getting over his angry-sad fits and going through a hell of a lot of soul searching, he came to the conclusion that you were the only one he would ever love, he wanted to marry you someday, and he was willing to do whatever it took to get you back.

Little did you know how persistent a heartbroken Tom could be.

♡♡♡

His attempts to win you back first started after you, Marco, and Star had just gotten back from school. You and Star were chilling in her room, listening intently as she whispered in your ear her budding feelings towards Marco, who had escaped to the kitchen to make you all some nachos.

"I just... I don't know, N/n. I've never felt this way towards him before... I know he likes Jackie, and I just want him to be happy but," she bit her lip hard, her eyes beginning to swell. You quickly grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into a warm hug.

"It's okay," you mumbled into her hair. "Feelings can be... perplexing sometimes. I think that it's a bit too early now to start jumping the gun by saying you have a crush on him. You have been under a lot of stress lately."

She gently pulled back and offered you a warm smile, wrapping her arm around your waist and leaning her head on your shoulder as you both stared at her mirror. "How do you do it?" She asked.

"Do what?"

"Just... it!" She cried, switching so she was kneeling before you, eyes wide with her hands in the air. "I mean, you were just forced to break up with the love of your life, and you're still up and moving? If I had to leave Marco... I don't know what I would do." She tapped her chin, glancing off in the other direction. "I would probably just die!"

A grin spread on her lips at her conclusion, but it soon faded when she realized how dejected you looked at the mention of Tom. "Oh, I'm so sorry, N/n, I shouldn't have brought it up..."

"No, it's okay," you replied sincerely. "I'm going to have to get used to it."

Just then, Star's mirror began blaring with an incoming call. You both turned to see who it was and the name on the screen nearly sent you into shock. It was Tom. Why on earth would he be calling Star? Was he trying to make her his rebound girl? The very thought of it made your shattered heart sink even more into the pit of depression you were in. With just one look at your face, Star could instantly tell what was going through your head. She gently rested her hand on your shoulder.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'll just let it ring."

You sat there for a moment before you suddenly realized how much you missed seeing his face. It wouldn't hurt to have her pick it up just this one time would it? Besides, then you could see how loyal he truly was to you.

"N-no," you slowly shook your head. "It's okay. Answer it."

"Are you sure?" She raised an eyebrow in shock, but you nodded your head. She cautiously walked towards the mirror phone, and gave you one last glance before answering it with you safely out of view. The second Tom's image filled the screen, you and Star both let out a gasp. His ruby red eyes that were once flaming were now bloodshot with deep circles from lack of sleep. His lavender skin was now abnormally pale, and his spiky hair was messy. He looked like a mess, to say the least. Almost as bad as you had looked after all those days spent under the covers.

...was this what you had done to him?

"Star!" A grin spread across his lips as soon as he saw your best friend. She let a sigh escape through your lips as you stared at the screen. He couldn't see you, but you were pretty sure your eyes had tiny little hearts in them, as they always did every time you saw him. It didn't matter if he was a flaming ball of rage or all dressed up in a tuxedo, even just his image made you fall even more in love. And that was what scared you most.

"What do you want, Tom?" Star asked, rolling her eyes a bit. Even though they were now friends ever since the two of you had gotten together, Star made a pact with you that if you couldn't be friends or anything more with Tom, then she couldn't either. Marco tried to get in on it too, but you both knew his best bromance was better living than dead.

You turned your attention back to the screen, watching as he scratched the back of his neck, something he only did when he was nervous. He averted his gaze for a moment before raising it back to Star's image.

"Listen, I know things have been a bit tense lately, but..." here it comes, you thought, preparing your heart for the worst. This was it. He was going to ask Star out, he was going to choose her over you...

"I need your help. I want to win Y/n back."

There it was. He wanted St- wait, WHAT?

It was then that Star suddenly smushed her cheeks together and let out a fangirling squeal so shrill it caused Glossaryck to plug his ears. You slowly stood up with mouth agape, feeling your heart begin to pound as you attempted to make sense of his words. Star giggled, her irises turning into comical baby pink hearts as she came closer to the mirror.

"YES!" She screamed, causing Tom to jump back a bit. "You have to do it! You have to-"

Your feet moved before your brain could comprehend what was going on and before you knew it, you were in the frame too, staring with wide eyes at Tom's picture. The moment he saw you, his eyes softened and then perked up with excitement.

"Y/n, darling!" He smiled with those adorably pointed teeth. "I want you back ♡"

The butterflies went crazy inside your stomach and you were almost certain you were turning into a tomato from the flushing in your cheeks, but Star's wand was lying on her bed. Star wrapped her arms excitedly around you as she squealed again.

"Yes, yes, yes!!! Come on, N/n, he wants you and you still want him! Your parents don't have to know!" Star pleaded, looking you deep in the eyes with a pouty lip.

No matter how badly you wanted to say yes, you knew that you couldn't. Your parents would find out eventually. They always did. "I- I'm sorry," you whispered, slowly shaking your head. "I broke up with you, Tom. I can't."

But Tom wasn't ready to give up anytime soon. Instead of frowning, his smile only broadened, which brought confusion to Star's face and fear onto yours. Because the smile he wore meant only one thing - he was plotting.

And you knew that he was now plotting his greatest, most diabolical plan he had ever dared to plot before.

His plan to get you back.

Before he could utter another word, you swiftly ended the call before turning to Star. "Star, I love you, but please, you know I don't have a choice."

"But that's just it," she argued. "You could! He wants you back too! He clearly still loves you! Why won't you take him back?"

You let out a sigh in melancholy as you began heading towards the bathroom, throwing your response over your shoulder before shutting her bedroom door.

"Because he's safer without me."

♡♡♡

His first attempt at winning you back involved collaboration. Even though Star and Marco loved you with all of their hearts, they climbed aboard Tom's ship to win you back, telling themselves that they were doing what was best for you. They hated seeing you so miserable, as it was obvious you had been faking happiness.

For what Tom definitely had in charms and charisma, he definitely lacked in strategy. The whole "winning someone back" and being, well, desperate and crazy for you was completely new to him. He had never felt this way before. So, unfortunately, his ideas to get you back were pretty crappy. But thanks to your two BFFs, they were able to help him form a very solid Plan A.

Plan A was to start with the basics again, which was mostly just getting you and him in the same place at the same time so you had to acknowledge each other's presence. Parties were too overcrowded, and they knew there was no way they could get you to go to the Lucitors' kingdom out of your own free will, so Star and Marco did what any rational person would do.

They followed you around until they were able to form a table of your whereabouts down to the minute. This way, Tom could appear at the place you were heading and try to start a conversation. What Star and Marco didn't plan on was Tom's ironic klutziness. When it came to being around you, he would always get red in the face and have these butterflies that made him feel sick. It ruined his entire game. But they made him push through it anyway.

The first place he went to was the dog park...

You had offered to walk Star and Marco's laser puppies while Star was off practicing her magic with the assistance of Marco (though really you were just leaving some room for Starco to begin). While you knew that you main job was to just make sure the puppies didn’t hurt anyone else and got in some exercise, you also thought that you could stand some of the fresh air too. You had just settled down in a little spot under one of the big oak trees to shelter yourself from the sun beating down on the untrimmed grass. The puppies ran excitedly around your ankles, shooting their red lasers at whatever they looked at. You shortened the leash a bit and watched as they roamed around for a bit, sniffing dog butts and freaking out some of the other pedestrians. It only took about a minute or so for you to realize how lonely you were.

Shit, you thought. Dog walking was supposed to be fun and now all you could think about was wishing someone were here for you to talk to...

As soon as the thought left your mind, a rustling noise suddenly came from directly above you. Confusion riddled your mind as some stray leaves fell from the tree, one of them landing delicately on your nose before sliding onto the grass. You furrowed your brows. Was there some really obese squirrel up there?

You craned your head to look up into the cloud of green, definitely not expecting to see a person clinging onto the skinny branch for dear life as they looked down fearfully at you, as if though they had been caught doing something horrible.

“Tom?” You cried out. He let out a nervous chuckle, lifting his one hand off of the branch to give you a slight wave while his other continued to grip onto the branch with a death-grip.

“Hey, beautiful.”

God, how you melted whenever he called you that... But you knew you had a promise to stay true to. “Please don’t call me that,” you sighed, stepping a little closer to the tree so you wouldn’t have to strain your neck as much. “What are you doing up there?”

You weren’t expecting his face to turn bright red at the question. After Star and Marco had dropped him off, he WAS going to talk to you as soon as he saw you standing a couple feet away from him. But fear got the best of him, what if he screwed up? What if he said something that insulted you? What if he ruined the last chance he ever had of winning you back? So, rather than just walking away, he decided to climb up a tree so he could watch you from a distance. It couldn’t hurt, right? But when a squirrel fell on his back, things got a bit complicated and you were smart.

It was one of the things he loved about you...

He opened his mouth, then shut it again, his three eyes scouring the horizon as he tried to come up with an excuse. You cocked an eyebrow as you waited, you running through your mind all of the possible things he could have been up to. Then it clicked.

“Tom...” now it was your turn to blush as your cheeks turned a slight shade of crimson. “Were you... spying on me?”

“Damnit,” he cursed a bit too loud than he meant to. You forced yourself to look away, feeling the butterflies float into your stomach at just the thought. He really did want you back, didn’t he? Why else would he be spying on you?

But then your mother’s words rang through your ears...

“You can never love a demon.”

You sighed. She made it sound so easy. Like you can just pick and choose who you fall in love with. And even though you knew there was no way your parents could ever approve of it, your heart still rested in his hands. But he was better off without you. You had already hurt him enough.

You sighed, raking your free hand through your hair. “Look, Tom, this is sweet and everything, but I need to get going.” You pivoted on your feet, and felt the all too familiar treading-through-knives feeling as you walked away from the love of your life... again.

“Wait!” Tom cried. “Y/n, AHH!” He was about to hop down off of the branch to follow after you when an angry brown squirrel attacked his face. And even though you wanted more than anything to run back to him and to climb up into that tree with him, you forced yourself to keep walking.

But even though that spot didn’t work, Star, Marco, and Tom weren’t ready to give up just yet. So, they sent him to the next place on your list. They planned to keep doing this until they ran out of places, because one of them had to spark something… right?

So next, he went to the market...

You were off on your weekly trip to the market since your parents were often too busy at their jobs to do it. Not that you minded, because this way you could get the brands of food you wanted without having to argue Tyson over Banquet for thirty minutes straight with your father.

Shopping list gripped loosely between your fingers, you stood before the fruits section, trying desperately to remember how Marco had taught you know how a grapefruit is ripe just by smelling it. Picking up one of the citrus fruits, you turned it over in your hands carefully before raising it cautiously to your nose. It smelt just like all the other ones smelt, like a grapefruit. You were about to pull your phone out of your pocket to call him when a strange noise suddenly came from the barrel of oranges next to you.

I should just ignore it, you told yourself. Last time I investigated, it was Tom spying on me. In a tree.

You turned to continue down the aisle, but when the noise came again, you felt that familiar pull to investigate once again. You threw your head back in frustration at yourself, but backtracked until you were in front of the oranges. This was what being best friends with a magical princess from Mewni had done to you.

You slowly lowered your head towards the rustling noise inside the barrel, wondering if some animal had gotten inside of it somehow. Turning you head to the side, you tried to listen for whatever it was just as a head suddenly popped through the surface, causing you to jump back in shock. Stray oranges toppled down onto the ground, one bouncing off of your foot. You raised your eyes to see who thought it would be a good idea to go swimming in a barrel of oranges, and as soon as you saw Tom (again), with his guilty smile, nothing but disbelief filled your mind. Only his head had managed to break through the surface, as his spiky hair was a bit messed up and his ruby eyes were a bit watery from the fruits. But the thing that actually brought a slight smile to your face was the two oranges that had been impaled onto his horns.

You quickly wiped the smile away, and glowered down at him. “Tom!” You groaned. “Again? Seriously? What are you doing this time, spying on me in the oranges?”

He offered you a sly smile, which sent your stomach into somersaults. God, why did he have to be so cute...

“Not quite, cupcake,” he smirked. “This time I actually came to talk to you about something, but the portal got a bit messy...” He shuffled a bit in the pit of oranges, causing a few more to bounce on the floor as you stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

You could sense the stares of strangers as they passed by, wondering why on earth a girl was talking to a purple-skinned, three-eyed, horned head in the oranges. It didn’t phase you however, as being Tom’s girlfriend for so long, you had gotten used to the staring. You also knew that he wasn’t the one to give up so quick, so you decided to just hear him out on this one. Besides, if it was something stupid, you could just leave and he wouldn’t be able to follow you right away. Not with ten pounds of oranges to slow him down.

“Fine,” you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “What is it?”

Tom cleared his throat, and wiggled around a bit before setting his eyes on you, giving you The Look. Your eyebrows raised, already knowing that whatever he wanted to say couldn’t be good.

“Well, as you know, I am in the process of doing everything I can to win you back. And to start, Marco said a good way to get a girl back is to begin by listing your positive attributes. Firstly, I am exceedingly-” you quickly plucked an orange off of his horn and stuck it his mouth before he could say anything else. Wiping off the excess orange juice on your pants, you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration as he struggled to spit the orange out of his mouth without his hands.

“Tom, look, this all really flattering and everything, but we are done. I’m sorry,” you wrapped your hands around the shopping cart and began walking away from him. Of course, knowing you, you still had to look behind you one last time just to catch him successfully spitting out the orange as it hit a chubby kid riding in a shopping cart. He turned his head to you, and even though you were doing your best to run away from him, he still shouted loud enough for you hear:

“You can try to silence me as much as you like, darling, but I’m still going to be in love with you!”

Once you were out of sight, he shuffled around in the orange barrel before turning to the chubby kid he had spit an orange at, who was staring at him in disgust.

"Hey, kid, think you could help me out?

And when that place didn’t work, he went to more... and more... and more... and got pecked on by birds at the pier, got attacked by a bunch of cats in a back alley, and almost got mugged by a guy in the fucking bookstore before you slapped the dude across the face with your wallet. But Tom still persisted.

He finally went to the last place on the list: the gift shop.

You were out shopping a week in advance for your mother's birthday, and to be frank, you had no idea what to get her. Figuring that you might be able to get some inspiration from the gift shop downtown, you soon realized that even with a bunch of glittering jewels around you, you still had nothing. You ran your hand along the rack of hideously designed dresses, and wondered if you would have better luck in Mewni.

While Star’s world may be completely different than yours, it did have a knack for giving you inspiration. So, you pulled out your cell and asked Star if she could give you a lift. On her end, it meant ditching her post with Marco to help Tom out with Plan A, Attempt 24, but she couldn’t say no to her best girlfriend!

So there the two of you were, your eyes scouring the tons of racks of clothing for something that might scream your mother’s name while Star drooled over a bunch of stuffed animals.

“This blows,” you sighed, until your eyes finally landed on a top that your mom may not instantly return. Funny, you thought. I’m buying the lady who ripped away the one thing I really loved a present.

You really did make yourself miserable...

Heaving a sigh, you were about to reach for the top when a head suddenly popped up from the other side, causing you to let out a scream in surprise. You would think that after being surprised so many times by Tom that you would eventually begin to suspect it was him, but time after time, he still caught you off guard. Tripping on your own too feet, you began falling to the ground before Star’s hands pressed gently against your back, pushing you back up before she got into battle position.

“What’s wrong?” She cried out. “Is it a burglar? WHERE ARE THEY?!”

“No, Star, it’s just…” You finally took a good look at the figure who had appeared and your suspicions were instantly confirmed. “Tom.”

You let out a huff, crossing your arms over your chest as he grinned deviously at you, crossing his arms over the top of the clothes rack. “Hey there, beautiful.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that,” you narrowed your brows in feign annoyance.

“Oh really? Well, I thought I told you to stop wearing so much makeup - you don’t need it, cupcake.” He winked at you, and even though every logical brain cell was telling you to ignore it, your cheeks heated up a bright shade of red. You did your best to hide it, but from the soft smile that still lingered on his lips and glistening in his eyes every time he looked at you, you knew he saw it.

Star suddenly pressed her cheek against yours as you both stared at the demon prince, and began to let out a very scary, very deep giggle. With just one side glance, you could already tell she was fangirling. You let out a groan in frustration and turned your attention back to Tom, who was still staring in complete adoration at you.

“Tom. You need to leave.”

Star let out a gasp, grabbing you by the shoulders and staring you deep in the eyes with her sparkling blue orbs. “Y/n! I am surprised by you! The love of your life is literally trying to win you back and you tell him to go home?”

Damn… You bit down on your lip. Hard. But before you could even muster out a word to explain your feelings once again, Tom had already stepped out from behind the clothing rack and was holding his hands up in the air in mock-surrender.

“No, no, I get it, she’s just not ready toda-”

“Hey, you!” An unfamiliar voice cut off Tom, making all three of you jump a foot in the air. You all whipped around to see who dared to interrupt you, laying your eyes on a slightly obese man with angry, onyx eyes and a plume hat that looked too small for his head. He stabbed his chubby finger in the direction of… Tom. “You there, monster! I don’t allow monsters in my store!”

Wait a minute… he thought Tom was a monster?

Shock washed over Star’s face as Tom’s fists began to curl into fiery balls. You, however, were feeling an emotion you had been trying to suppress for a while. Protectiveness. NO ONE got to call your Tom a monster. Sure, he may be a bit different, but he was NOT a monster. Before your brain even had a chance to stop yourself, you were already walking past a very angry Tom (whose features contorted from anger to shock the second you walked past him) and stood directly in front of the obese man.

“Alright, you listen here, asshat,” you snarled, stabbing your finger into his puffy chest. Star and Tom exchanged awestruck glances behind you. “Tom may be a lot of things, but he is NOT a monster. Do you hear me? HE IS NOT A MONSTER.” By now, you had the dude sweating and shaking in fear as it almost seemed like you were towering over him, a flare set to your eyes that only Tom ever had. “And if I ever hear you call him a monster again, I will hunt you down myself, and when I do find you?” You let out a slow, maniacal laugh that eventually escalated into a full blown evil laugh. Little did you know, that while Star was watching the exchange with fearful eyes, you had made Tom fall in love with you all over again.

Before you could continue to scar the scared shitless guy, Star gently pulled you away from him, uttering a sorry to the man on your behalf. You shook your head once to clear away the craziness, only for once, you had no regrets.

“Wow,” Tom’s voice broke through your thoughts. You quickly raised your gaze to see him walking dangerously close to you. Before you could make a move to stop him, he had already wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him, so close you had to rest your hands against his chest to distance yourself. You looked into his eyes, and the second you saw the adoration and love in his ruby irises, you knew you were in trouble. “You haven’t done anything like that since we first got together. You still care, don’t you?”

You could feel your face getting hot and your stomach twist in knots, and that was just from his closeness. His words sent your brain into spirals and your heart pound harder than a sledgehammer. You felt that all too familiar, undeniable urge to wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips against his, but…

Remember, Y/n. He is safer without you.

“T-Tom…” you stuttered, softly grabbing his arms and lowering them to his sides. You took a few steps back even though it felt like pulling yourself through knives, once again. It was uncanny how you and Tom didn’t even have the Blood Moon Curse, but you felt such a strong connection to him that you had never experienced with anyone else. “I… I…”

Star was fighting back a huge fangirling squeal as she bit her lip and crouched down, staring at you with wide, expectant eyes.

“I… have to go…” Tom’s eyes fell, but only for a second before they perked back up with that insanely persistent look.

“Alright,” he shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “But keep in mind, darling,” he swiftly stepped closer to you, so close you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. “I’m in this for the long run.”

And then, in a flash of fire, he was gone, leaving a very flustered you and a ship-angry Star.

♡♡♡

GO FIND THE SECOND PART FOR MORE💖

#tom lucitor #tom lucitor x reader #tom lucitor imagines #star vs the forces of evil #star butterfly #svtfoe imagines #svtfoe

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hxseok-honee · 6 years ago

Text

i found | part 16

a/n: uh,,, haha sorry? let me know what you think?? i love you all pls dont hate me??? <3

previous | next

___________________________________

you need to get down to the courtyard. now.

Y/n stares down at her phone, blinking lamely at it as she reads Jin’s message. She doesn’t know what’s happening, or if she’s done something to prompt a message so sharp from him. She doesn’t even remember the last time she saw Jin- she slept through breakfast today after being up so late with Yoongi. Either way, this is possibly the most urgent text she’s ever gotten from him, so she’s up and slipping on her shoes without even bothering to text him back.

She rushes out of the common room, on the verge of running once she reaches the top of the steps and can hear the sounds of cheering and yelling coming from just outside the Entrance Hall. Y/n rounds the corner and the courtyard comes into view through some pillars in the wall. What she sees has her blood running cold.

There, in the middle of the space, is Jungkook- she identifies him easily even from behind, so familiar with his frame and profile. She can also see he’s facing someone else, and by the tenseness of his shoulders and the way he throws his body around, she can tell he’s gotten into a fight. She starts to run a little faster, keeping her eyes on the fight as she makes her way down the corridor. But when Jungkook plants one foot behind himself and pivots his body, sending his opponent flying forward with the force of Jungkook’s hold on his robes, Y/n’s feet skid to a stop, her eyes widening as her heart pounds violently in her ears.

Stumbling to the ground, bruised and bloody, is Min Yoongi. His face is covered in blood, his shirt ripped and his knuckles all scratched up. He hits the ground with a sound that has Y/n yelling out to him, unable to stop herself as she stands there, rooted to her spot. She doesn’t expect him to hear her through the cheering and lewd comments of the large crowd that’s gathered in the time since the fight started, but his head snaps up as if he’d been listening for her.

His eyes meet hers, the expression in them pained and dark. The soft skin around his left eye is already turning purple and his lip is completely split in the middle, trickles of blood leaving his mouth when he opens it. He’s trying to call out to her, but he can’t find it in himself to say her name. He knows he doesn’t deserve to, knows that this day was going to come and that he was going to handle it himself, never wishing for her to witness it. He’s known from the start that her friends would never approve of him, that it might even be impossible for her to convince them not to start problems with him once they found out. He knew this would happen, and no matter how hard it is for him to let it happen, he can’t let her know how much it hurts. So he doesn’t. He closes his eyes and tries to pretend she’s not there.

When Jungkook reaches forward and latches onto the back of his head, gripping the hair there and yanking so hard that Yoongi goes flying onto his back like a ragdoll- that’s when her feet start working again. Y/n propels herself forward, through the entrance to the courtyard, and heads straight for the pair in the middle only to be stopped by the arms that wrap themselves around her waist and keep her from moving forward. She turns her head, trying to identify her captor, but she doesn’t need to. She can see the boys standing behind her, each wearing varying expressions of distress and disbelief, each avoiding her gaze as if she were the devil. The only one missing from the group is Jin, and she knows almost instinctively that he’s the one holding her.

“They know, Y/n. They know everything.” His voice fills her ears, stopping her heart as she realizes what they must be feeling. She doesn’t know how they found out or what she should have done differently to prevent this situation, but they know. And she can’t help the way her heart shatters at the thought of how betrayed they must feel, how much she lied to them about knowing Yoongi and where she was spending all her time these days.

She tries to free herself from Jin’s grasp, but his hold on her only tightens as she’s forced to watch Jungkook’s fists fly through the air and make contact with Yoongi’s body. He’s everywhere, kicking and pulling and punching through Yoongi’s defenses, ripping the clothes on the older boy’s torso as he beats him in broad daylight. Y/n can hear everyone else in the courtyard yelling, excited by the prospect of watching Yoongi lose a fight for once in his life, but all she can focus on is the feeling of heart-wrenching pain as she watches one of her best friends in the whole world pummel the shit out of this man who’s finally allowed her into his life and shown her the truth of his world. She turns again to look back at her friends, begging them silently to help her, but they’ve all chosen to steer clear of her and let Jungkook hurt Yoongi as Yoongi just lies on the ground and takes it.

Wait- why is he just letting Jungkook hit him? Why isn’t he fighting back??

Y/n watches more closely now, becoming more and more anxious as she realizes that Yoongi is indeed just lying on the ground letting Jungkook beat his ass. He has his arms crossed over his face, leaving the rest of his body vulnerable to the boy’s attacks. Jungkook has straddled Yoongi and is simply swinging down with all of his might, connecting his fists with as much flesh and bone as he can. She can see Jungkook saying something to Yoongi, but the crowd is too riled up for her to hear anything except Jin whispering in her ear to just let it happen, that they can figure everything out once it’s over.

Jungkook takes one more swing at Yoongi’s face, finally managing to break through the weak defense of arms and elbows and landing a hit on Yoongi’s cheek, snapping his head to the side, in the direction of Y/n and her friends. Y/n watches as blood flies from his mouth, staining the ground crimson red. She watches as Yoongi’s lips part to try to take in any form of air after the beating from the angry Gryffindor, watches as those very lips shake in pain and bleed from the split in the middle. She watches as his eyes flit over to her for just a moment, watches as his eyes find hers, and she almost feels like he’s trying to tell her something, but before she can figure it out he’s closing his eyes slowly and turning away from her again.

She sees Jungkook bring his arm back again, his knuckles already so bloody and bruised but begging for more, and she knows she can’t stand it any longer. Pushing against Jin’s hold with everything she’s got, she rips herself from his arms and rushes forward, almost stumbling in her panic to get to them.

“Jungkook, stop!!” Jungkook’s head whips up to look at her, eyes wide and arm frozen mid-air. She latches onto the front of his robes, dragging him off of Yoongi as the crowd watches with baited breath. She keeps a tight hold on him, pulling him away from the boy lying still in the middle of the courtyard, covered in blood. She almost leaves Jungkook there to check on him, but she can see Yoongi slowly curling in on himself and attempting to get up, so she chooses instead to turn on the boy in front of her.

“Jungkook, what the fuck are you doing? Why are you doing this?” He glares down at her, motioning back at the bloodied boy behind him.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/n? Why didn’t you tell us? We spent all this time worrying about where you’re running off to in the middle of night or why you don’t come to lunch sometimes and- what, you’re spending all this time with him? That’s Min Yoongi, Y/n, do you understand that?” Jungkook says all this while leaning in close to her, keeping his words away from as many curious ears as he can, knowing just how bad this could get for Y/n if anyone else found out. He can already feel a little guilt settling in, understanding that this is probably also very hard for her, but he couldn’t help the rage that overtook him when he saw Yoongi walking into the Great Hall that day. He couldn’t help the way he angrily admitted the truth of what he’d seen the night before to the rest of the boys, ensuring their support when he finally challenged Yoongi to the fight he’d been itching to start for years. Even now, his guilt is starting to fade back into anger at the thought of this man taking hold of his friend and potentially tricking her into thinking he wasn’t all that bad.

“Jungkook, don’t you think I know who the fuck I’ve been spending time with? I know you’re overprotective, and I know this is not something to take lightly, but did you really have to beat the shit out of him? Look at him! You’re using this as an excuse to start that fight you’ve always wanted with him, but he didn’t even fight back! Are you happy now? Are you happy knowing this is what you’ve done?” Y/n grabs Jungkook by the shoulders and spins him around, forcing him to look at the damage he’s caused. Yoongi has managed to get up in the time they’ve been talking, leaning heavily against the fountain that stands in the middle of the courtyard. He’s hunched over, blood dripping from his mouth and splattering against the ground softly as he holds his ribs gingerly with one arm. His shirt is torn in several places, revealing the bruising skin beneath it.

The arm that holds his ribs is covered in cuts and scratches, and his throat is beginning to show signs of a few times when Jungkook had chosen to choke the man, bright red fingerprints painting the sides of his neck. Jungkook can see that those angry red marks will fade to dark purple bruises by the end of the night, and suddenly his anger is becoming guilt again.

By now the other boys have pushed through the crowd and made it over to Jungkook and Y/n. Jimin has one hand on Y/n’s arm, his eyes begging her to tell him everything was a misunderstanding, but all she can do is look down at her shoes and try not to cry when she feels his hand slip away. Namjoon and Hobi are flanking Jungkook, apparently having decided that if he were to try anything else that they would actually step in this time. Tae presses a hand to Jungkook’s back, whispering gently that he should go inside and get cleaned up. Jungkook nods quietly, taking one last glance at Y/n before he turns away from her completely, the other boys following after him. Y/n tries to follow too, but Jin pulls her back, holding her there as the crowd starts to lose interest in the situation and go back to their normal happenings.

“Stay here, Y/n. Take care of Yoongi. I’ll try my best to explain everything to the boys.” Y/n blinks up at him, shaking her head slightly.

“I should do this… This is my fault, I should handle it.” She tries to follow after the boys again, but Jin’s grip on her elbow is steady.

“Seriously, I think maybe it’s best if we all aren’t in the same room right now. I’ll go upstairs with them, and then when they’ve cooled down we’ll text the chat or something. Just stay here. Take care of him.” Jin motions in the direction of the slumped boy, now sitting with his back against the fountain in his attempt to recover. Y/n stares at him, taking note of the state he’s in, before nodding once, knowing she’s only going to make matters worse if she follows the boys back now. Jin squeezes her arm reassuringly before letting go, running after their friends in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

Y/n sighs, running her fingers through her hair once before heading over to Yoongi. She can see his eyes are closed, his breathing labored and accompanied with some wincing. When she reaches him, she squats down next to him and stares down at him for just a moment, taking him in. It’s only a moment, but it’s enough for Yoongi to notice her presence, and when he does his eyelids flicker open, his gaze coming up to meet hers.

They hold eye contact for a few seconds, long enough for Yoongi to understand the look in Y/n’s eyes. It isn’t pity or sadness like he had expected. It’s guilt. It’s guilt, and he almost hates it more than the pity he was anticipating. It has the pain in his body amplifying and hurting him even more, the realization that she blames herself hitting him harder than Jungkook ever could. He tries his best to change the look in her eyes, even for just a moment. Shifting lightly so that he’s pressed more comfortably against the fountain, Yoongi ignores the shooting pain in his body as he addresses her.

“You should have followed your friends.” Y/n blinks down at him once, clearly confused, so he continues, keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him. “I’m fine, Y/n. This isn’t as bad as it looks- don’t scoff at me like that, I’m serious.” He’s heard the way her breathing’s changed, the way she’s dismissed his words as if catching him in his lie. It doesn’t matter how hurt he really is, he can’t let her feel bad about this. “Listen, just go after them. Fix your friendships. Those are more important.” He can see Y/n reaching out to him, but frankly he’s too weak to push her away so he just closes his eyes and tries not to flinch when her warm hand makes the softest of contact with his cheek.

“You look like shit.” His eyes fly open, meeting hers as he takes in her comment. She’s obviously trying not to laugh. He rolls his eyes, the only functioning part of him at this point.

“Thanks, asshole.”

“Why won’t you let me take care of you?” He stares down at his shoes now, and she takes his silence as an opportunity to keep going. “I get the feeling you really won’t settle for me choosing you over the boys right now, but I really won’t settle for not knowing whether or not you’ve gone to the hospital wing once I leave. So will you meet me later? Let me clean you up?” Yoongi keeps his eyes on his shoes, suddenly very interested in the blood that’s splattered over them at some point, but he can feel she’s not leaving, so eventually he’s giving in to her.

“Fine. Meet me in the transfiguration classroom later.”

#bts texts #bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #min yoongi #yoongi texts #yoongi x reader

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stuffandnosense · 7 years ago

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All Of Us - Plance - Chpt 7

***Well the timing of this chapter worked out strangely well, considering season 6 haha. Obviously this is in a completely different continuity now though, so there aren’t any spoliers. ;) Trigger warnings for panic attack/ptsd in this chapter, though.***

Blue and Black are the closest lions, and Keith and Allura are the only ones to make it and take off as the fighters open fire. The rest of us are pinned where we are.

Hunk and his bayard canon and Lance and his bayard’s blaster are the only weapons we have that are useful at all against attack from the air. Both of them cover the rest of us with fire as Coran and I try to push Shiro under Red for more protection.

The rocky ground isn’t helping the wheelchair. Coran is reaching for Shiro as if to just carry him, and Red and Green are moving to cover us themselves when one of the fighters swings back around, and time seems to slow down.

There are two lions in the air and three fighters. Of course one is coming back while it can.

I see Keith break off following the one he’s after to fire at it. Hunk fires his canon at it from the ground. I know Coran with his Altean strength is more than capable of snatching Shiro up on his own but I reach to help anyway, because I can’t do anything else.

Hunk’s canon grazes one wing of the approaching fighter and Black’s lasers catch the tail, but even as the damaged ship spins to the ground it fires at us.

Shadows loom over us, not quite fast enough. Red and Green, as Lance spins around himself to warn us. To usher us under the lions. To do something.

“Pidge!” I see him coming at me. I see how wide his eyes are as the fighter goes down behind him. It’s final laser blasts glint toward us and the concussion and dust cloud it raises throw Lance into us, toppling us all to the ground under Red.

Everything is hazy, for a moment. My ears are ringing. I’m coughing and I can’t...breathe. Or see. Or hear, really. Dust everywhere…

Faint sounds. Groans? Coran cursing, I think. Lance...Lance is shouting. Why is he shouting? Where is he? Where is Hunk?

I manage to turn over, feeling every bump and bruise and scrape and hoping Lance isn’t far. I can hear him. Still so faint, but so close. Where…?

I almost roll on top of him. He’s right beside me, practically shouting in my ears. My hearing must still be recovering from the blast.

“Lance…!”

Blood. Red and scorch marks from the Galra fighter’s lasers, a swath across his left side and the inside of his arm. As my vision clears I can make out his wild eyes as I lean over him. The pupils blown out from the pain.

“Lance!”

“How bad is it!” Coran calls. He and Shiro have rolled to a stop several feet away. The wheelchair is on its side, wheels bent and twisted, but Shiro looks all right, just bruised and scraped from sliding across the rocks. Coran is bent over him.

“We need a healing pod!” I call back.

I focus on Lance again. His arms are flailing, hands closing and opening, hovering over the wounds as if he wants to do something about the pain but not wanting to touch anything. I catch one hand and hold it close to my chest.

“Lance, I’m right here! Come on, look at me…”

It take a moment, but he manages to focus. He squeezes my hand. His shouts have faded to quick, pained gasps.

“P-Pidge...Pidge...Pidge…”

“I’m right here…”

His other hand, his injured arm, reaches for me, fingers brushing my cheek. “Pidge…”

Is Coran coming? Movement, out of the corner of my eye. He’s coming.

“I love you,” Lance whispers.

“Stop it! You’ll be fine.” I’m already reaching out to Green, having her move with Red to keep us covered and provide a way to get to the castle.

“I...I-I love…” Lance cuts off and groans, and I don’t know if he’s really listening to me. I don’t know if he can.

My ears are still ringing. He was even closer to the blast. Can he even hear me? I reach for his face to make him look at me, forming my words clearly just in case. “You’ll be fine! It’s okay!”

His eyes are wide. I still don’t know if he can hear me but he’s paying attention, now. He’s watching my lips and his eyes are damp. “Pidge…”

“I love you, too! I love you...and you’ll be okay. You’ll be fine. Okay?”

Coran moves in at my side as Lance smiles at me weakly, but we all flinch when a new explosion behind the lions tells us another of the fighters has gone down. Still one more to go. I catch sight of Hunk, still out there, half hidden under Yellow and still firing at the sky.

“Green will cover you - you have to get Lance to the castle,” I say. Coran nods and scoops Lance up. At first I think he winces because Lance cries out, but then I realize how stiffly he’s moving.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Just a few bumps, Number Five. I’ll get him there.”

“Is Shiro all right?”

“As far as I can tell.”

“I’ll stay with him, I - Ah!” I try to get to my feet, but my right ankle screaming at me sends me right back down to my knees.

“-idge…!” Lance, gasping from Coran’s arms. I reach up to squeeze his hand briefly.

“I’m fine! It’s just my ankle. Coran, go!” Lance is getting weaker. His eyelids are drooping, There’s no time.

Coran goes, sprinting as fast as he can across the desert ground under Green’s cover.

I crawl back to Shiro, who blinks up at me, dazed. “Lance…?”

“Coran’s taking him a healing pod. He’ll be fine. He’s fine…”

So why am I shaking? I try to stay calm, but Shiro is looking up at me with that look that could always see straight through me, and I don’t know when I start to sob. Shiro can’t sit up on his own, but he takes my hands and squeezes them gently between his own.

“Lance will be fine, Pidge,” he’s saying. “He’s been through worse. He’s tough.”

Matt was tough. Matt had been through so much, too. That didn’t stop him from dying. That didn’t change anything. He looked at me the way Lance did before Coran took him. Smiled at me. Trusted me.

And he died.

“You...you...you don’t understand,” I gasp. I can’t breathe anymore. I can’t stop crying. I know what’s happening to me and I can’t stop it right now.

Shiro’s hands tight around mine. His flesh hand moves farther up my arm, as far as he can reach. Trying to hold on to me - to help. “Katie, it’s okay. Breathe…”

Of course Shiro knows what’s happening. If anyone would, he would. But he doesn’t know why.

“You don’t understand,” I whimper again, between gasps.

“Talk to me…breathe.”

He shouldn’t have to do this. Not here. Not right now. He just woke up. He shouldn’t be trapped under a lion in the middle of a firefight trying to keep me from coming to pieces.

“Pidge…”

I’m trying to breathe. I’m trying. “Matt...Shiro, Matt’s gone...I’m sorry…”

Sorry to tell him this way, sorry for everything I did to the other him, sorry I hurt Lance. Sorry for everything…

“W-we got him to a pod...almost immediately, but...but he still…”

Shiro swallows. “You found him…”

I nod. “For a while. And Dad. What happened was...was months later. In the war. He...I can’t lose Lance too,” I gasp. “I can’t.”

“I’m so sorry…”

I don’t decide to do it, but I bend over almost into Shiro’s chest, just trying to get enough air, and he lets go of my hands and wraps his arms clumsily around me, instead. His grip is weak, but it doesn’t matter.

By the time someone is pulling me up from behind, I can breathe. I’m still crying, silently, but I can breathe. Shay and Dad have come back for us. Shay picks up Shiro, and Dad becomes my crutch. With his free arm he reaches out to take Shiro’s hand briefly as we go. Something passes between them, but I know it isn’t my business.

Beyond the castle, the last fighter goes down and I can hear Hunk whooping, somewhere.

By the time we make it to the cryopod bay Lance is already under. Coran is scowling at the control panel and my chest clenches.

“Coran…?”

He glances up, blinking. “It’s...the pod is still working to stabilize him.”

“It hasn’t yet?” My voice tics up in pitch.

“It’s only been a dobosh or two,” Coran says quickly. “I’m sure we’ll know something in a few tics more.”

I hobble more quickly, effectively dragging Dad with me straight to Lance’s pod as he tries to keep up to help support me. I lose my balance anyway, almost colliding with the transparent front of the pod.

“Lance, come on…” Beyond my splayed fingers he still looks restless, even in pod-induced sleep. A flash of memory...the nightmares from earlier this week...and my throat tightens again. “Come on…!”

Behind us Shay deposits Shiro on the steps that ring the room and lead up to the pods, as Hunk catches up to us. Hunk crouches down to sit by Shiro, to help keep him sitting up. But when I glance over my shoulder they’re all watching me. Or watching the pod, maybe.

“Coran!” I call.

“No change yet, but not for the worse either,” he says.

This is...this is the same pod, isn’t it? I know Coran didn’t do it on purpose. It’s one of the closest pods to door and he was in a rush. But the realization hits me like a sledgehammer that drives me to my knees.

Dad is calling to me through a haze of sound - blood rushing in my ears and my own gasping.

“I can’t,” I’m saying. “I can’t...I can’t…please…”

Please. Please don’t take Lance, too.

“-atie! Katie...listen to me. Katie…” Warm hands on my shoulders, tugging me to look at him, at my Dad. I’m trying, but I can scarcely see him through my tears.

“He has to be okay,” I whisper. “Tell me he’ll be okay…”

“I can’t,” Dad says softly. Over his shoulder, I can just make out Keith and Allura barreling into the pod room and coming to a stop.

“Katie, I want that boy to come out of there all right as much as you do, but I can’t promise you that. Sometimes things don’t go the way we want.”

How is this helping? How…?

“But look around, Katie. Whatever happens today, you are not alone.”

I’m still shaking, but my hazy mind manages to recognize what he’s saying as almost the same thing I said to Keith...less than varga ago. Keith, who makes his way over to us now, tentatively, and crouches at my another side and wraps his arms around me and it’s not very Keith, or it wouldn’t be usually. But right now it’s the only thing that makes sense to me even though he doesn’t say a word.

Keith, who could have lost one of the people he cares most about today. If he had, the rest of us would have been there.

Just because Shiro is sitting over there on the steps, awake and with us again, doesn’t mean Lance will come out of that pod alive and well. I want it to mean that. But…

Six and a half years ago Matt looked up at me from this spot, on this floor, as we said our goodbyes. He smiled at me. It was okay, he said. There wasn’t any pain anymore. We talked like nothing was wrong for...maybe ten or fifteen doboshes as he weakened. The pod had given us that much time, at least. I can still hear that thready version of his laugh.

Lance never left. How could he leave now?

But somehow, I’m calm, held between Dad, and Keith. Over their shoulders are Hunk, and Shiro, and Allura, and Coran, and Shay. My family. And it’s quiet. Well. Coran is pounding at the console, but otherwise it’s quiet.

I reach out again to press a hand to the front of the pod.

Please.

Coran shouts something else and kicks at the base of the console. My breaths hitches, but then there’s a beeping and he lets out a whoop.

“There it is! He’s stabilizing!”

I sob. When I glance up at Lance’s face, I think I can almost see it smooth out into a more peaceful rest, but it may be my imagination.

“H-He’ll be okay?” I choke out.

“Just a tic...yes. Yes! It was touch and go there for a bit, but he’ll be fine!”

I don’t know whether I’m laughing or crying, or what is what in the cacophony of reactions from the others as Dad helps me back to my feet. Keith is still there, smiling at me, and at the pod. He squeezes my shoulder and I know he’s saying he’s glad none of us lost someone today. But when he opens his mouth nothing comes out, and I don’t blame him. I just hug him, instead.

Keith tracks back to where the others are on the steps, to sit beside Shiro, but I stand at the pod for a while longer, watching Lance sleep and balancing on my good ankle. Coan asks if I want to get into a pod myself, and I tell him maybe later.

“Number One?” Coran asks, turning to Shiro. “You could use a spell in a pod yourself - give yourself a head start on recovery.”

“I will, Coran, just…” He glances at Hunk braced against his back and Keith against one side. “Not right now,” he says, a smile tugging at his lips.

I join them before too much longer, taking up the space at Shiro’s other aide and tucking myself under his arm. He squeezes my shoulder a little, as much as he can I suppose, and doesn’t seem to mind at all. Allura and Coran sit beside us, too, while Shay and my Dad retreat from the pod room.

I think at first that maybe we’re going to talk more, but we don’t, not much. Not like we did back in the black lion. Instead we’re comfortable right where we are, just being together.

Allura gets up at one point, and disappears briefly. When she comes back she has news of what happened.

“Surviving members of one of the old factions managed to infiltrate one of the other ships,” she says. “They scrambled communications between the castle and the fleet before they attacked. We’ve re-established channels now...any threat has been neutralized,” she sighs.

It’s over, and after that we’re quiet again. The barely perceptible hum of Lance’s pod is the only sound. Shiro, soon enough, drifts off on Keith’s shoulder. Hunk falls asleep against Shiro’s back, and I find myself dozing, too.

***

This time, when I wake up on the floor of the pod room amongst pillows and blankets that weren’t there when I drifted off, I smile. Lance isn’t the one beside me - I’m sandwiched between Shiro and Hunk, and apparently at some point we all ended up horizontal - but Lance is safe.

No one died today.

I sit up slowly, trying not to disturb anyone. Shiro, Hunk, and Keith are all still here, Hunk snoring away. I suspect Coran and Allura of being the ones to pile the pillows and blankets around us. They left something else behind - the twins, curled up against Hunk’s other side. The three-year-olds must have wondered into the sleepover situation and insisted on joining in.

I don’t know how long we’ve slept, but when I looks up at Lance’s pod, his wounds are gone. At some point the process must have been paused, when he was healed enough for it to be safe. He’s been changed into one of the white and gray suits that can better withstand the pod’s processes.

My ankle still aches, but not as badly as it is did. It’s easier now to get to my feet and pad over to the pod...oh. My shoes have been removed and set aside on the steps. So have everyone else’s.

Just as I’m thinking about going back to the console to check the stats on Lance’s progress, the pod hisses. I almost jump out of my skin as it opens, and Lance stumbles out into my arms.

“Hey…!” I say. I’m trying to be quiet, but I’m smiling so widely I feel like my face might crack.

Lance latches onto me as his forehead lands against mine. I stumble back a step with his weight, and the pain in my ankle makes me overcompensate pushing forward again, sending us back to nearly slam into the side of the pod. That helps steady us and Lance is already shifting his hands to my face, as if he already had a plan. I wrap my arms around his waist as he kisses me, over and over, grinning.

“Hey,” he breathes, between kisses.

I don’t know how long we go on like that, and I don’t care.

Lance is alive. Lance is safe. Lance is mine, and I am his.

“Yeah okay I’m gonna have to get used to that…”

Lance breaks off at the new voice, and his cheeks so red. “Shiro…!”

I’m laughing. Lance is taking in the others, now, and I don’t think he realized they were there before. Shiro is the only one who’s woken up, at least. And he seems better. He can get his metal arm under him, at least. He’s managed go use it to push up into something like a sitting position.

Shiro chuckles. “I keep forgetting you’re not teenagers anymore.”

“And if we were what would you do anyway?” I tease.

“I’d separate you,” he answers, completely serious.

“Geez, Space Dad confirmed much?” Lance smirks.

We help each other over to where Shiro is. Lance notices my ankle halfway there and scowls at me for not saying anything.

“I just twisted it, and it’s already getting better, I’m fine.”

We settle beside Shiro, stepping carefully over the others. Lance sits against him so he can take the weight off his arm, but not before Shiro pulls him into a long embrace.

“You were both there,” Shiro says quietly. “All of you were but...you two...you were with me the most. I think I’m starting to remember now.”

“You could hear us?” I ask.

He smiles. “You kept me from drifting too far. Thank you.”

*** Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! I’d love to hear what you think! :) I appreciate any comments/feedback so much! <3 (Also, there will still be some fluff to wrap things up, I promise ;) ***

#plance #plangst #vld fanfic #angst #romance #vld lance #vld pidge #vld shiro #future fic #fanfiction #voltron team #voltron legendary defender #pidgeance #pance #flirtyrobot #tw: panic attack #tw: ptsd

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midnightghostwriter · 7 years ago

Text

me you

↬ summary: a bad breakup sends you reeling - both into despair and the arms of your best friend

↬ genre: fluff / friends to lovers

↬ pairing: jay park x reader

↬ word count: 9.7k

a/n: this was a request sent to me by the darling @kxxkiemonsterx ! i had such a good time writing this that it, uh, turned out pretty long i’m sorry haha. but thank you for the request dear & i hope it’s everything you wanted ;D

the title comes from san e’s song “me you” which you should totally listen to if you somehow haven’t yet~

For most people, 9:30 on a Friday night meant being out partying, most likely in the company of friends, or using the opportunity to look for a different kind company. It meant being out at some club and slamming drinks until the flashing lights and thrumming bass made your head spin faster than the disco ball over head. For others still, it was date night.

Unless your name was Jay Park.

If that was the case, most Friday nights (that weren’t spent at various events and parties attended in a mostly professional capacity) were spent in one of a myriad of studios mixing, recording, or reviewing new tracks and remixes. When you were the CEO of two different music companies with at least ten people each, your docket for Fridays tended to fill up fairly quickly.

This particular Friday, Jay was holed up in a studio at AOMG, most of the others having cleared out some time ago in the name of sleep or drinks to make up for a long, grueling week of work. Chase had insisted that he tag along, take a much needed break from the tracks they’d been working on for the better part of the last five plus days, but Jay insisted right back that the sooner this was done the sooner they could spend more than just one night celebrating. There hadn’t really been an argument for that, so Chase had left him to it, and taken Loco and the others along for good measure, since the younger guys had a tendency to goof off. Sometimes their enthusiasm made Jay remember what it was like to be their age (not that he was old enough to really be thinking like that), but tonight he’d allow for no distractions.

A mantra like that should’ve meant headphones on, phone on silent, doors locked until he decided everything was perfect. Or that when his phone rang the first time he sent it to voicemail and then put it on do not disturb like he should’ve the first time. And that when it rang for a third time, per the “emergency call” settings he’d put in place, he only spent a few seconds at best on the call to determine whether or not it really was a life threatening situation. But Jay had always had a soft spot where you were concerned, and the moment he heard your voice over the line – rough, tired, and distressed, all things not typical of you – he knew he’d be saving his work and dropping it for the rest of the night.

“Hey Jay. Sorry I’m sure you’re busy, but – “

“Don’t sweat it, I always have time for you.” He didn’t let himself think about how stupid that sounded, instead swiveling away from the computer screen with a frown. “What’s up? You sound awful.”

“Jay I’m sorry, I-I,” you hiccupped and it was then he realized you weren’t sick or anything, but that your voice was scraped raw and tight from crying, “I didn’t know what else to-to do, I’m sorry…”

“Stop apologizing and tell me what’s going on,” he prodded. Silence and he wondered for a second if the line had gone dead, but then, in a voice so small he almost didn’t hear you, you answered,

“It’s… It’s Euntaek. He broke up with me.”

“Wait, what? Didn’t you guys like just celebrate your thousand day anniversary last week? He bought you that fancy Swarovski piece and everything.” You hummed your assent but there was no heart behind it, which only drove home to him how shitty you must be feeling, though you were clearly trying not to show it.

“We did but… I don’t wanna talk about it all right now. But he was supposed to take me home, and now he’s gone, so I’m stranded in Hongdae, and I… really need your help.” You paused again. “If you’re busy I can ask one of the other guys, though. I wouldn’t want to take up too much of your work time. I just panicked after he left and called you first and…”

“Don’t bother, they’re probably all smashed. Stay somewhere safe and I’ll come get you,” Jay ordered, beginning to move around the studio to grab his stuff. Keys, keys, where were his keys…?

“Are you sure?” He finally found them hiding in a jacket that wasn’t the one he’d put on, and shoved the door open.

“Already on my way.”

Before you could offer any more objections, Jay had hung up. Well, it seemed you’d be getting your rescue after all. Now that your moment of panic had settled somewhat, the reality of the situation descended on you. It was all you could do to wrap your jacket tighter around yourself and lean against the wall outside the club instead of collapsing to the ground like your legs wanted so badly to do.

You had always prided yourself on being fairly strong, emotionally and physically. Things that had your friends worked up or in tears didn’t usually affect you the same way – you had always been a reliable rock in that regard, able to control yourself and not let things get to you so you could keep your cool. But this… this was far outside your usual realm of expertise. Never had you expected to have to deal with a situation like this one, and you were shaken, to say the least.

Eyes squeezing shut, your fingers wrapped tighter around the phone in your hand as you shook your head. No, no, you wouldn’t think about all that right now. It was too much too fast, and you feared that if you dwelled on it too long your head and heart might be so overwhelmed they’d shut down altogether. You just had to wait a bit and Jay would be here and everything would be okay.

It was almost stupid, you thought, that you should get so much comfort from that thought alone. Sure you and Jay had been friends for a while now, and he had always been your source of stability when things went to shit, but… it was a feeling you’d never really had with Euntaek. He’d made you happy once upon a time, made you smile, but nothing about it felt the same as the easy, free-flowing camaraderie you had with Jay. You’d always chalked it up to his own ability to befriend almost anyone, and not given it much contemplation, but now…

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car door at the end of the small side street, and after squinting a bit in the dark you realized it was Jay himself. There was a strange look on his face, like he was trying to decide between being angry and being worried, but it had more or less settled into the latter by the time he reached you. The sight of him made all your earlier anxiety and sadness wash over you again, and within seconds you were struggling to keep your tears from ruining even more of your makeup than they already had. Before your breakdown could draw the attention of the few club patrons gathered outside, he’d looped an arm around your shoulders and was guiding you back down the street.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

He continued muttering assurances as you clung to him, trying not to trip in your heels with your blurred vision. God, you probably looked like such a mess, but you were too tired and distraught to be embarrassed about it with him of all people. Once he was certain you were safely buckled into the passenger seat, he closed the door and moved into the driver’s side. Slumping into the warmth of the seat, you kicked off your shoes so you could hug your knees to your chest. You felt more than saw when Jay reached over and put his hand on your shoulder, and you glanced blearily at him. Though you were wrapped up in your own tumult of emotions, your heart still squeezed a little at the genuine concern written on his face. What did you do to deserve a best friend like him? It was silent for a moment, like he was deciding what to say, but instead he only shifted slightly and brushed some hair out of your face that had been in danger of sticking to your ruined makeup, and tucked it behind your ear.

Why did that simple act make your heart feel so warm and fuzzy all of a sudden? You marked it up as some weird, misplaced idea that the touch was filling some void for affection that Euntaek’s departure had left in you, and didn’t say anything about it. A second later Jay pulled back, taking the car out of park and maneuvering back onto the main road.

“Let’s get you home,” he muttered, and you hummed gratefully.

You were cognizant enough to get yourself out of the car, and for that Jay was grateful. But apparently not enough so to remember you’d removed your shoes when you got in in the first place, a fact he was very abruptly reminded of when you attempted to stand and a strangled sound escaped you when your feet touched the rain-soaked pavement. He tried not to laugh at the pout on your face as you huddled by the door.

“Why don’t you put your shoes back on, princess? We’re almost there.” You gaze slid to the stilettos on the floor by your seat and you grimaced, which he shouldn’t have found adorable, but did.

“But my feet hurt,” you grumbled, and he marveled at your ability to switch gears from panicked mess to pouty child during the short drive. “I don’t wanna wear them up all those stairs.”

“It’s two flights - two very very short flights - and then you can take them off forever if you want to,” he insisted and you huffed, making it clear just what you thought of the idea. After contemplating for a moment or two if it was worth fighting you on, he decided against it – you’d already been through enough tonight he could tell, even without the full story. He sighed.

“Fine. Pick them up for me at least, okay? Otherwise we’ll both forget about them, and you won’t remember they’re in here until next week.” When you’d hooked the straps around your fingers and adjusted your jacket against the chill, he locked the car. “Alright, gimme your keys.” You gave him a questioning stare. “C’mon, hurry up. It’s cold.” You acquiesced, and then squealed in surprise as he lifted you off the ground.

“J-Jay! What are you- “ He gave you a withering look.

“Be quiet or you’ll wake up everyone, alright? I’m not letting you walk up to your apartment barefoot.” Apparently there was no more to say about it, as he’d already started across the small parking lot to your building, leaving you to wrap your arms around his neck and tuck yourself closer to him so you didn’t go tumbling to the ground. Not that Jay would’ve let that happen, you knew, but you didn’t trust your own luck enough to risk it.

When the two of you reached the door, he shifted slightly so he could unlock it without dropping you on your ass, and stepped quickly inside. Warm air wrapped around you both, chasing away the chill from the night and drawing a happy sigh from you. After securing the lock behind him, Jay helped lower you so your feet could touch the floor, but your exhaustion had already seeped into your bones and gotten the better of you, and you ended up leaning on him more than standing upright on your own. An apology poised itself to exit in a mumble past your lips but he only put an arm around your waist to better support you once he had put his own shoes by the door. There was a question dredged up by the action, one that would ask what exactly his intentions were, but you couldn’t be bothered stringing the words together to voice it, and remained content instead to let him lead you down the hall toward the bathroom.

Cold tile met your feet before your eyes could actually pierce the darkness and see it, and you did your best to ignore the discomforting chill that ran up your body from the sensation. It only lasted a few seconds anyway, chased away by the firm squeeze of your eyes shutting against sudden fluorescence when Jay hit the switch. He mumbled an apology as your tired gaze did its best to adjust, nudging you in the direction of the stretch of counter by the sink.

“Sit here. Where do you keep your makeup stuff?” The question finally opened your mind to the vague notion of guilt that had been pressing itself upon you, and instead of answering your lips twisted in a frown at his back as he looked over the bottles and pots of various beauty products on your shelves.

“Jay, it’s okay. I only asked for a ride, you’ve done your due diligence or whatever. I’ll be okay.” The look he gave you was almost comically skeptical, and not unlike others you had seen from him before. A childish urge to reach out and poke at the crease between his brows reared its head but you squashed it in favor of raising yours right back.

“Will you though? Somehow I think that’s a load of bullshit bravado.” His expression eased, made gentler by a wave of concern that washed over it. You were beginning to feel something like remorse for the amount of times the emotion had appeared on his face tonight because of you. But there was no chance to voice it or argue before he continued. “Just let me help you, aight? Your night has been total shit, and you asked for my help. So just chill. Now, you’ve got makeup wipes right? Where are they? Your face is a total mess.”

The light, teasing edge to the words erased some of your own negative emotions enough to provoke a small smile as you directed him to the shelf in question where a packet of wipes hid behind your normal bottles of remover and face wash. You mostly used them at times when you were far too not-sober to be bothered with a full routine, but you were going to make an exception in favor of not letting him even attempt anything else. Boy might be grace and technique on stage, but he was one of the clumsiest idiots you’d met anywhere else, and you wanted to keep your vision.

You followed directions well enough, closing your eyes when he told you to, doing your best not to fidget as he slowly and carefully cleared away the signs of your meltdown not so long ago. When he had to venture near your eyes, he placed a hand on your hips to keep you steady, and you did your best to ignore the heat of his skin against yours through your dress, or the way your stomach flip-flopped at his closeness whenever your eyes were open. God, just how desperate were you right now? Clearly the alcohol hadn’t fully run its course yet. Or so you’d think, except you hadn’t had a single drink all night.

Breathing was done shallowly and sparsely until he backed away and nodded approvingly, depositing the filthy wipe into your small rubbish bin. He hovered for a second as you made to hop off the counter and you rolled your eyes, waving him away. You were much more lucid now, having somehow regained some of your calm and composure while sitting there, and fully capable of getting down by yourself. At least that was what you told him, and not that you weren’t sure you wanted to find out how your mostly-rational brain would react to that physical contact.

“I’ll just go change really quick,” you told him, and hurried out of the room. Jay watched you go until he heard the bedroom door shut, and figured you’d made it without collapsing into a messy pile in the hall. He believed you, mostly, that you were fine now, but he couldn’t help worrying all the same. He’d never really seen you as shaken up as you had been tonight, and something told him that you weren’t as “okay” as you wanted him to believe, that things weren’t quite settled just yet.

There was no sense in him standing around here while you futzed about your bedroom though, so he wandered his way toward your kitchen, reacquainting himself with the place as he went. It had been a while since the two of you had hung out somewhere that wasn’t a club he was already at, the studio he was holed up in, or in a corner booth some place between the two of you. Life kept you both too busy for things like movie nights or take-out hangouts that normal people did with their friends. Even so, it struck Jay just how lived-in your place looked - decorated with all kinds of touches that just screamed your taste, your likes, your interests. Various papers with notes to yourself, your laptop with a stack of documents that must be from work resting on the dining table, an unfolded blanket thrown haphazardly over the back of the couch to look at least kind of cleaned up. Even your kitchen had a few dishes (already rinsed, he noticed) in the sink, and containers of varying ingredients or miscellaneous items in varying stages of emptiness lined up on the counters and top of the fridge.

It looked like a home, more than just a place to sleep that had your legal name on it like his own. Sure yours lacked the animal inhabitants that made his slightly less spartan (you frequently argued that you couldn’t really spare the time or money for pet maintenance right now), but he could almost see how much time you spent in the place. Somehow, it made him wish he had more time than just an unknown number of minutes to spend here.

Wow, what an incredibly and grossly domestic thought to have.

He shook it off in favor of raiding your cabinets, humming appreciatively when he found a half-bottle of Jack in one and shot glasses in another. He could apologize or buy you more later, he reasoned, as he filled the glasses, downing one on his own and leaving the other waiting patiently on the counter. Feeling restless now, and less like he could also lay siege to your fridge without repercussions, he had the sudden realization that it was taking you an awful long time to change. Even he had his ego enough in check to know it wasn’t because you were agonizing over what might impress him (the two of you had seen each other in sloppy loungewear on multiple occasions by now), so the idea that you had taken more than ten minutes to do anything set off an alarm in the back of his mind that had him assuming the worst and praying for the best.

Shot glass forgotten, he wandered back toward the hallway that led to your still closed bedroom door. Fingers crossed you’d forgive him for being kind of a creep, he took a few steps until he could make out any sort of noise from beyond the faux wood, and what he heard sent his mild concern into anxious overdrive. The sounds you were making resembled something close to choked hiccups mixed with subdued caterwauling, and it set him on edge. Notions about decency and invasion of privacy went out the window as he put his fist to the door in a hurried series of knocks. The sounds cut off with a hiccupping breath and then dissolved into faint sniffling.

“Hey… everything okay in there?” He called when you offered no other reaction to his intrusion. Another bout of sniffles, then your wobbling voice responded,

“Y-yeah, just fine. S-sorry, I’ll be out in a m-minute, okay?”

“You don’t sound fine,” he pointed out rather obviously and a strangled sound - an attempted laugh perhaps? - was your response.

“Seriously, it’s fine. J-just give me a sec…” You trailed off and Jay resolved himself that he would make this up to you tenfold later as he put his hand to the door handle and shoved it open despite your request. He was only mildly surprised when you didn’t react in outrage or irritation, and instead veritably ignored his entrance entirely.

He had been right to guess you hadn’t bothered with more than simple loungewear that should’ve taken you all of three minutes to throw on, and that something else had kept you in here making sounds like a dying cat. You were huddled on your bed, hair in a messy bun and oversized sweatshirt nearly covering up your sleep shorts, surrounded by a mess of other clothes that were distinctly not yours. Or at least he assumed not, given they all looked to be articles meant for someone more of Sunghwa or Kiseok’s build than yours. His grim assumptions were confirmed when he found that you were staring at a photo frame, and though he could only see the pins on the back, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be hard to guess what it held behind the glass front.

The features he’d so delicately helped clear of makeup earlier were stained again, this time with tear tracks and blotchy red, eyes puffy not from rubbing off your eyeliner but from the saltwater that still lingered on their rims and threatened to spill over at any given second. He wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but the damning evidence made it pretty easy to piece together. When you didn’t attempt to throw him out, he crossed the room and sat down next to you.

His guess as to what currently held your attention had been correct: clutched between your bone-white fingers and splashed with your tears was a picture of you and the boy - Jay refused to use the word “man” with someone like him - who had caused this whole mess tonight. You were glued to his side, smiling wide like the cameraperson had just told a hilarious joke, clearly having the time of your life. He vaguely recalled seeing a photo like this on your feeds not that long ago, when you had gone sauntering off on a much-needed vacation while Jay was busy with stuff for the new label. He remembered it crossing his sight after a few drinks one night and being irrationally jealous that you looked so damn happy without him - and had immediately downed more drinks to forget the feeling because who the fuck did he think he was to be having thoughts like that?

“I can’t believe how naive I was,” you whispered after a few moments of silence. “I was so busy being starry-eyed at him I didn’t even see the signs. Or maybe I did and I didn’t want to believe it.” The picture hit the duvet with a dull thwumpf and you wrapped your arms this time around your knees, curling in on yourself as you stared without seeing at the floral patterns beneath the two of you.

“Do you…” The words stumbled haltingly out of Jay’s mouth, hesitant to push you but he could see just how painful holding everything in was becoming. “Do you wanna tell me what happened?” A shaky breath rattled your frame next to him, but you nodded after a moment’s consideration. It was better to get it out, wasn’t it? And he deserved to know just why you were freaking out over this so much more than any of the other breakups you’d gone through.

“Apparently,” you started, voice small, “apparently Euntaek has had another girlfriend. For about three months now.” You studied your feet to avoid seeing the flurry of emotions that twisted Jay’s features, or the way his eyes widened and his hands clenched the blanket to avoid breaking any of your valuables.

“That long?” He finally asked when all other words had failed to come to mind or be anything but expletives. There was a pause after you nodded, and another shaky breath, while he waited for you to continue.

“Tonight was supposed to be his friend’s birthday, and they wanted to go to this club. I had to work a little later so I said I’d meet him there and he said okay. But when… when I showed up…” Your bottom lip slid between your teeth, a desperate attempt to hold it together, to prevent more tears from falling and drowning out your words. “When I got there, he was with this girl I’d seen a few times, but he’d always insisted she was just a friend from work, and she was never around me long enough for me to question it. And she was all over him, with her tongue down his fucking throat…” You were shaking now, a nauseating mixture of rage and sorrow swirling through your insides. It took a few seconds for your tumult to subside enough to register that Jay had started a comforting path across your back with the hand that wasn’t holding for dear life to your blankets.

“I couldn’t even say anything at first, I was too shocked. It wasn’t until he saw me that… We started screaming at each other, right there in the club like some kind of animals - it was mortifying, but I couldn’t think past how upset I was. He tried to say something like he’d meant to break up with me before our anniversary… Then she stepped in and said some shit about how I was being a child and I should leave, but he said no, they’d leave instead. And then he just… told me not to talk to him ever again and left.” Before you could say anything else, something to lighten the mood, to make such a monumental disaster seem a little less destructive, the fresh tears your story had brought to your eyes were falling, and any further words were lost as you broke down again. You didn’t have the presence of mind to object when Jay pulled you from the ball you’d curled into and pressed your face into his shoulder, holding you there as you shook and sobbed, accompanied by the occasional murmur of his voice in your ear.

You couldn’t say how long it took for your newest outburst to dissolve into sniffles and gasps for air, just that when it was over you felt drained, scraped raw. Jay was still tracing circles on your back and shoulders, not saying anything as you finally started to get yourself together. You didn’t realize you’d been clinging to him for dear life until you tried to move your hands and realized the joints were stiff from clutching his shirt. A forced chuckle rasped out of your mouth, followed by a sweep of heat across your face signaling your utter disgust with yourself at the situation.

“I guess I owe you a new shirt,” you tried to joke, but it felt flat even to your ears.

“It’s fine,” he assured, not making any move to push you away as your breathing finally began to even out. “Feel better?” You nodded mutely, taking another shaky deep breath.

“Y-yeah. Thanks. Sorry.” It was all you could manage in the moment to encompass the things you felt about the patience and caring he’d demonstrated ever since you called him a few hours ago. Jeez, had you really been a pathetic mess that long? You sighed and pushed a few stray hairs out of your face. “You, uh… You can let go of me now. I think I’m okay.” Like you’d pressed some sort of release switch, Jay’s hands jerked away from you, his entire being springing away from you at once, leaving you to nearly tumble to the bed in their absence. You stared at him in surprise as his own face tinged the faintest shade of red.

“Sorry!” His eyes were wide, a kid caught with their hands in the cookie jar or browsing a site they shouldn’t be, though you couldn’t fathom why. You’d only meant for him to let you go so you could stretch out your stiff limbs with a walk to the kitchen - you were severely dehydrated and in need of something to help ease your tender heart. You didn’t bother with saying so out loud, instead offering a shake of your head before you were padding out of the room, trying to hide the hint of a smile lingering around your lips.

It hadn’t taken you long to find the shot of whiskey Jay had left on the counter before he’d found you, and even less time for you to throw it back, refill it, and down another. You weren’t all that eager to get drunk by any means, but you had decided you needed something a little stronger than tea or hot cocoa to take the edge off the prickling emotions in you.

But shots of Jack had turned into three sips of tea and then breaking open a bottle of some red you’d been saving for… something else but decided fuck it, this was more important. In the fashion of a true gentleman, Jay had catered to your request to talk about literally anything please God I need a distraction splendidly until your second glass of wine had you wound down enough to actually join in.

After your fourth, you had reverted to simply listening, humming at the right times and offering infrequent comments, as he told you about the things you’d missed the last few months - the trips between the States and Korea, the overcomplicated insanity of helping manage so many schedules, the long sessions spent in studios making the magic he hoped would help his people succeed. Head against his shoulder and warmth buzzing through your dulled nerves, you found yourself finally approaching a state that might have been peace and comfort.

If Jay was ever bothered by your shift in attention, he said nothing about it. Truth was it didn’t bother him at all. Sure it would’ve been nice to hear about your shitty coworkers (was that one guy still cranky, had your boss said anything about the raise you’d asked for, was the workload still bordering on too much?) or if you were still marathoning your way through seventy plus episodes of that ridiculous Taiwanese drama you’d told him about a while back, but he was content with doing the talking if that was what you wanted. People had told him often enough that he was good at not shutting up.

He’d just finished some story about the A6OVE pop-up store promotion that you had missed when he finally took notice of your slowed breathing and the way your lashes had met your cheeks. He wasn’t sure if you were actually asleep, but you were certainly on your way out if the dangerous tip of your glass toward the floor told him anything. Knowing you would be less than thrilled by a new scarlet stain on your carpet, he removed the glass from between your fingers and set it on the table with a quiet sigh.

The whole time the two of you had been sitting here, he had been doing his best to ignore a crazy stupid notion that he could really get used to this. If he was being honest with himself, he’d imagined doing simple shit like this with you more often than he cared to admit. Even when he was home by himself, he’d thought about sharing his scarce meals with you or the way you’d probably read or something equally mundane while he watched some sporting event you didn’t care about but watched with him anyway. It was something he tried not to think about, tried to push away in an effort to not ruin the friendship you already had, but it had haunted him for most of your relationship.

But then you had started dating Euntaek. And though he could see how happy you were (at first), and boy did he want that for you more than just about anything, he couldn’t help the ugly seeds of jealousy that planted themselves in his heart. Maybe he had been seeing what he wanted, but he hadn’t been all that surprised to hear that Euntaek was cheating on you with some harlot, had thought that just maybe he had seen the signs, but had the awareness to know that saying it without evidence would only hurt you, and that was unacceptable. Even so, he’d had a feeling, one that grew stronger as your one hundred day anniversary turned into your one year and then more, this guy wasn’t good enough for you. You deserved someone who paid attention when you spoke, who didn’t take you places just to distract you from problems between the two of you but because he wanted to share that exotic world with you, someone who actively cared about you, someone just… better.

You deserved him.

The second the thought crossed his mind, he shook it off and drained the rest of his own cup before setting it next to yours, a weary sigh gusting out of him. Here he was, sitting on your couch at past two in the morning, with you asleep or nearly so on his shoulder, and letting a nasty little part of his heart be happy that you had finally ditched Euntaek. It was sick, twisted, and made guilt turn his contentment sour. The irrational fear that you might know what he was thinking ran through him when you shifted, but you settled a moment later when you had situated yourself more comfortably against him. God, what a mess the pair of you were tonight.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, even though there was no way you would offer a reply or any words to assuage his guilt. “You’re hurting and I should just be sorry for that. But I’m sorry for not telling you what an asshole I thought he was. And I’m sorry you had to waste time crying when he’s probably off fucking that hoe - I hope they both get the clap or some shit by the way. But mostly…” He hesitated, reaching out to push some of your hair out of your face. What the fuck was he doing? “Mostly, I’m sorry that I’m so grossly into you that I’m happy you’ve finally left him so I might have a chance to make you happier.” Another sigh and he let his head hit the back of the couch and the hand that had been resting on your head move to the safely friendly zone of your arm. He was maybe a little drunk and definitely rambling a lot, but the words kept coming, like some sort of dam for all the things he wouldn’t normally say had broken.

“You’re gonna wake up in the morning with a pounding headache, and piss out all this alcohol that won’t have helped a damn thing except you’ll maybe be a little less sad for a few weeks. And you won’t even know I said any of this, so what the fuck is the point after all, but I’m sorry and I love you, I guess.”

Silence met his words and Jay groaned, this time launching the back of his skull into the couch with enough force to make himself wince. He really needed to stop letting Hyukwoo convince him to watch sappy dramas - clearly that shit was getting to him. When he couldn’t sit still anymore (and his arm had started to go numb from you leaning against it) he stood as carefully as he could, picked you up for the second time that night, and decided it was time to put some distance between you until the morning, so his heart could catch a damn break.

The morning dawned bleak and gray but with enough dull sunlight to pierce through your blinds and rouse you about as willingly as a rock. Your mouth was cotton thick with the dehydration of too much alcohol consumed the night before, and a dull, pulsing ache behind your eyes reminded you of the same. Sluggish thoughts struggled to place why, exactly, you’d even been drinking when you had left the club before touching a single sip of anything. But recalling the club brought up the exact events that had transpired, the panicked call you’d made, and everything that had happened after. Right, you had Jay to blame for the drinking, then.

Wait. Jay.

Considering your last memories were the two of you on the couch (and a second, more fuzzy memory you were refusing to acknowledge of something he may or may not have said) you were more than a little surprised to realize you were in fact sitting in your bed and not on the aforementioned couch. That had to mean he’d carried you to bed when you’d fallen asleep… But where was he? Not like you’d expected to find him laying next to you or something that would be weird, definitely weird and not something you were the least bit disappointed about for any reason whatsoever. No, it was simply disconcerting to fall asleep next to him and then to find him absent now.

Gathering your fractured consciousness, you slid out of bed and pulled your sweatshirt back on (you could only assume Jay had probably helped you out of it so you wouldn’t overheat while you slept), and shoved your feet into slippers to guard against any morning chill lingering in the house. The place was dead quiet, no signs of any life except yourself present to provide any hints as to where your friend would be. So you went with your last memory, and wandered down the hall toward the lounge.

Sure enough, aside from two glasses holding dark red reminders of your attempts to cope sitting comfortably on the coffee table, you found Jay sprawled somewhat awkwardly on your couch (even for someone whose height wasn’t far off from your own it was barely long enough to fit him), a blanket drawn haphazardly across himself. Though it had to be far from comfortable, the relative peace settled across his features made you loathe to wake him. You couldn’t imagine the poor guy had gotten much sleep lately, especially not with the way you’d taken up his time the night before. So instead of shaking him awake, you rearranged the blanket more securely around his person, patted his cheek, and gathered the glasses to take with you to the kitchen.

You hadn’t had much time to go grocery shopping lately, so your breakfast options were limited, but there was plenty of coffee and its peripherals to get a steaming pot going while you scrounged up some eggs, toast, and fruit. A minimal meal to be sure, but still delicious - you hoped. It was hard to mess up such simple dishes, after all, but when it came to guessing at seasonings and all that you weren’t the best judge and could only hope that it would taste decent.

Doing your best to be quiet while you shuffled about, you hummed to yourself, some song by Jay’s friend-ployee Hoody that you’d heard on the radio the other day. The coffee maker ceased its bubbling chatter to simply keeping the pot warm while you let the eggs finish cooking, and buttered the bread when it popped out of the toaster. You were so preoccupied with your tasks you missed the shuffling sounds from the direction of the couch, or the footsteps preceding the arrival of your houseguest before he was rummaging in your cupboards and startling you bad enough you nearly dropped the knife you’d been using to chop a myriad of fruits onto your feet. He cast a raised eyebrow in your direction but the effect was lost with the way sleep still claimed his features in the form of bleary eyes and unkempt hair. Your heart did that odd twisting thing again, entirely unrelated to the fact he had just scared the daylights out of you.

“Sorry, I just - I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you yammered and he shrugged before extracting two mugs from the cupboard and moving carefully around you to the waiting coffee.

“I think it was less your clattering around in here and more an internal clock thing, but it’s chill.” With practiced hands he divided the coffee between your mugs, then stopped to look at you again. “Cream or sugar?”

“Uh, creamer’s in the fridge, but I’m good on sugar, thanks.” He nodded and went back to fixing up the cups of coffee, while you tried desperately to get your head and heart back on track. You couldn’t say why it was that the incredibly mundane sight of him making coffee for the two of you sent your heart into a sickly sweet overdrive, but it was freaking you out. Maybe it was just weird because you’d never really been in this situation with him before? But that was a weak excuse and you knew it - there was hardly a thing the two of you could do together that would be awkward.

Maybe it was because you were finally… properly paying attention to him? Without the lens of i’m happily not single? It wasn’t like you’d never noticed things about him before - you knew he was attractive but it hadn’t fazed you; you’d seen firsthand that he was thoughtful, caring about other people almost to a fault; his goofiness and sense of humor had rarely failed to make you and your friends smile or laugh outright. You’d seen all those things before when he was just “your best friend Jay Park,” but now…

Now you noticed other things. Like the exact way all the ink he’d filled his skin with - pictures and words he’d insisted held sentimental or powerful meaning to him - followed the lines of his body. Or how careful he was in mixing the creamer into your coffee, like it was the most important thing he’d ever done. You watched as some of his hair, mussed from sleep and lack of a shower, fell into his face and the way he pushed it out of his vision in a move that had been so normal before but now made your cheeks warm. And you had to pretend extra hard not to notice when he turned and caught you staring and, instead of calling you out, smiled at you like this whole situation was the most normal thing.

I’m sorry and I love you, I guess.

Your heart thumped uncomfortably in your chest at the echoed words of what may or may not have been a drunken dream, and suddenly the room seemed way too warm and way too small.

Oh fucking fuckity fuck fuck - were you attracted your best friend?

“You just about done there?” You followed his gaze to the pan of eggs and plate of toast, jumping at the chance to move and do something rather than stand there and stare at him like an idiot.

“Y-yup! Wanna grab plates while I take this to the table?” Without waiting for an actual answer, you grabbed the dishes and darted off, wishing you’d bothered brushing out your hair instead of just fixing your bun so you could hide your burning cheeks.

When you’d left the kitchen, Jay let out a sigh and ran his hands through his hair. He had been expecting that things might be weird this morning, but had assumed it would be because of him. The foggy memory of his delirious confession the night before sat on the edge of his consciousness, but he attempted to squash it before he died of embarrassment on the spot. That would be even more suspect than his over-the-top attempts at helping you in the kitchen. Speaking of… he’d probably been spending way too much time panicking over how he should be acting around you. Grateful for the distraction, he rifled in one of your other cupboards to grab plates, piling silverware on top and then carefully grasping the handles of both mugs in his free hand.

At the table, you were very studiously staring at your phone and chewing on one of your sweatshirt strings, the perfect picture of a lazy Saturday morning. The only recognition he got for his appearance at the table was you peeking around your screen at the sound of the china being placed on the table in front of you. When your eyes met, red swept through your features again, and you went back to pretending to be busy. Though he assumed it was nothing personal, Jay couldn’t help being a little bit hurt at your persistent attempts to pretend he wasn’t there.

But clearly you weren’t in the mood to talk about whatever was bothering you, so he let it go for now. Eggs and toast made their way onto his plate, assorted fruit adding a disjointedly cheerful splash of color, and he was content to alternate between bites of food and sips of coffee as he flipped between social media and emails and other inane shit that normally wouldn’t get more than a cursory glance. He’d never been good at handling silence, and several times he considered breaking it with some sort of innocuous, safe topic, but nothing felt right, so he kept his mouth shut.

He was going through his mentions on Twitter when he heard your silverware hit your plate, and an awkward clearing of your throat sounded. Well, the silence was clearly broken now. A glance up from his own screen revealed you had set yours down, but still studied your hands where they rested on the edge of the table rather than looking at him. Rather than push you to speak, he waited as patiently as he could (which wasn’t very) for you to do it yourself, and after a few agonizing moments he was rewarded.

“So,” you began lamely and grimaced, “we need to talk about last night.” If this were a football game, Jay imagined, your words might as well have just tackled him to the ground like a full-sprint defensive lineman with all the force with which air left his lungs. But he could not, absolutely could not, let on that anything was amiss so he cleared his own throat and did his best to look nonchalant. He had no idea if you would be fooled but it was the best he could do on the spot.

“Do we? I already told you I didn’t mind helping you out. Didn’t think we had anything else to talk about.” Instead of reassuring or discouraging you like he’d intended, it seemed you grew even more awkward at his words, beginning to fidget in a way he recognized as a tic for when you couldn’t figure out how to say what was on your mind. He also knew it rarely ended up some kind of easy, breezy conversation.

“It’s… not that. Um- “ Your lip slipped between your teeth again, and if the situation weren’t so tense Jay might have made an offhand, teasing remark about how cute you looked. As it was, he reined himself in long enough to give you a questioning look you barely glanced at.

“Then what is it?” He prodded when silence had threatened to overtake you two again. You sighed heavily.

“When I woke up this morning… I had this memory, only I wasn’t sure if it was a dream or if it actually happened, and it’s been really bothering me so I just, I really really need to know if…” A quiet deep breath, and it was like he could literally see you steeling your nerves against whatever was about to come. “Did… did you…” Oh no. “Did you say you were in love with me?”

I’m sorry and I love you, I guess.

The dead silence that followed was so complete you could hear the slick sound of Jay swallowing nervously, and you focused on the rise and fall of his adam’s apple rather than on his face because you weren’t sure you could take what you would see there.

If you were wrong, and it really had been just a dream, he’d most likely give you that “you’re crazy” look and then everything would become irrevocably more awkward than before. And then what would it say about you, that you had dreamed up something like that? You weren’t sure you could face the possibility that lay at the end of that path either.

If you were right… Well, no, you still didn’t have a solution for that. Would you say something to affirm his feelings? Would you kick him firmly into the friend zone and risk losing him that way? The latter would be the kind thing to do, right, when you weren’t even sure how you yourself felt? After all, you’d just gotten out of a two plus year relationship you’d been fairly certain about until it crumbled beneath your fingers. Could you risk heading down the same path with Jay? But that all begged another, bigger question that made your insides curl in on themselves and your heart knot up in confusion:

Were you properly in love with Jay, or did you just care about him because you needed him as a friend?

It felt like eons before anything happened after your question settled in the air over the remains of breakfast. Eggs and toast alike had gone cold, fruit soggy, coffee all but untouched as you waited for him to say something, anything, that would put this whole thing to bed. Any answer would be better than none, you reasoned, because at least then you’d have some closure and you could think of a plan. You moved your gaze from his neck to his hands, tense and clenched into fists against the dark wood. You’d seen him do it before, when he was nervous or unsure about something, and the sight only made your own anxiety worsen. Then, at long last, he coughed and you almost missed the quiet words that slid from his mouth.

“What?” You inquired with all the intelligence of a goldfish, and he groaned. Curious eyes followed his hands as they moved up to his face, dragging across his features in a gesture of frustration.

“I said,” he muttered into them, “that you’re right. What you think you heard… is what I said.” The seconds your brain needed to process his words, really let them sink in, gave him time to slowly tilt his head back down and lower his hands until they were pressed together in front of him, rather than obscuring his face. When he spoke again, his words were as sure and determined as the look in his eyes that made a swarm of butterflies erupt in your stomach, disturbing your breakfast. “I told you I love you, and I thought you wouldn’t hear it, but that don’t make it any less true.”

“Jay,” you started, then stopped as words struggled to form sentences in your head that would properly convey what you wanted to say, “I… I don’t…” Unfortunately, though he was your best friend he was not a mind reader, and there was really only one way for him to interpret your stuttering. Just like that, the fire in his eyes dimmed out, all the life leaving his features in a heavy sigh. You watched the weight of his resignation at your apparent rejection press into his shoulders, and again as it reached with toxic fingers to pull his lips into a self-deprecating smile.

“Don’t worry. It was just a slip because I was a little drunk, okay? Not worth getting torn up over. Probably just came out weird.” You wanted to believe him, to think it was that easy - that you two could just forget he’d ever said anything at all of any consequence and pretend things were normal again. Yet you knew you couldn’t. Not when his attempt at writing the whole thing off made you so irrationally upset. Or when that led to the question of why the fuck were you even against the idea in the first place, which in turn had you slamming headfirst into the realization that wow, okay, you really were actually, properly and entirely in love with Park Jaebeom. Or, at least, you thought you could be. And you certainly weren’t about to let him pretend like he had never said he might feel that way about you. So you smacked your hands onto the table to get his attention, glad when the action made him twitch and brought his wide eyes to yours.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Nuh uh, you are not just gonna try and sweep this under the rug so we can go on with life like we’re just two best buds again,” you snapped, and his eyebrows shot up into his hairline at the venom in your tone and the way you flopped back into your seat, arms crossed tight about your body.

“What are you saying, then?” He demanded, throwing his hands up in frustration. “That you love me too or that you just don’t think we can be friends because I fucked up a little?” You faltered.

“I- I don’t know! Not about that last part, I’m not shallow enough to ditch you just because of something you said that may or may not alter our friendship as we know it. But I’m… not sure how I feel right now. You’re my best friend, Jay, and you don’t get to just walk away from me whenever you feel like it.” He almost smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“That’s the thing. Accepting that I said that means accepting that I don’t just want to be your friend. I don’t want to stand by and watch you fall in and out of love with ten other guys who treat you like shit, or to be your crash pad every time they let you down. It means knowing I want a chance at you just like them, and that if I get it I’ll take it and run. Are you really okay with that?” Silence stretched between you two for a few beats, and then you sighed and put your cheek on your hand to stare at him for almost the first time all morning - really, actually stare at him. You took a few moments to consider him, everything you knew about him, as objectively as possible, without your “friendship goggles” on so to speak. Knowing what you did, and the way your mind and body reacted to him, could you keep being just friends with him? Is that what you wanted? Or could you allow yourself to feel more strongly, to even attempt to let him in the same way you had Euntaek?

You almost shouldn’t have been surprised the answer was every form of fuck yes you could think of.

“I am. Okay with all that, I mean. In fact…” You hesitated, then reached over to lay your hand on top of his. He seemed surprised but didn’t pull away. “I’d like to offer you that chance, if you want to take it. Because the truth is… I love you, I guess.” He didn’t respond right away to the way you’d echoed his words, instead flipping his hand over under yours so he could run his thumb across your knuckles. The sensation sent a pleasant shiver up your arm and throughout your nerves, and you thought that if that was what touching him would always feel like, you could get used to it.

“You’re not trying to fuck with me, or say some shit to be nice and avoid saying something hard, are you?” The genuine emotion in his voice (and dare you say fear?) made your heart squeeze, and you manifested it in doing the same to where his fingers held yours. He was just as worried as you, you realized, that you might reject him, or, even worse, lead him on. Before you could think too much about it, you shook your head vigorously.

“No fuckery. I… I’m pretty sure I mean it.” The dubious look he gave you made you quick to elaborate. “I just broke up with a guy I’d practically sold my heart to for over two years. Everything is kind of a mess right now, me especially, but… But if you’re willing to wait a bit and stick around, I think it might work out in your favor.” Heart in your throat, you watched him turn over your words. Then with a quickness that surprised you not because he possessed it but because he used it for this purpose, he grasped your other hand and squeezed, leaning toward you over the table.

“Fo’real?” You nodded, pink beginning to trickle into your face at what you had said and the implications of this entire situation, and especially at the way his expression radiated a kind of hope that warmed your heart to melting.

“Fo’real,” you echoed. And then he was grinning like the happiest kid on Earth, and swooping down to press a sweet kiss to the back of both your hands, making your heart flutter in a way that was entirely alien to you.

“I promise you won’t regret it,” he insisted, like he had to make the idea of being with him some kind of sales pitch. You giggled, the sound born out of amusement and adoration for his enthusiasm as opposed to any sort of mirth at his expense. He didn’t need to sell you on anything - you were already fairly certain that it would be one of the best choices of your life to entrust your fragile heart to Jay Park. All you really needed was the time to begin to pick up your broken pieces and start fitting them to his.

And if the way your heart felt a little more full as he pulled you from your chair to press you as close to him as possible was any indicator, you were already off to a great start.

#aomg scenario #aomg fluff #jay park scenario #jay park fluff #khh scenario #khh fluff #friends to lovers #fluff #not rated #hallyuwritersnet

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cutegirlmayra · 8 years ago

Note

Hey amiga! I was wondering if you could write a Sonic Forces thingy based on your post where Sonic makes the first move in the romantic things instead of Amy ;) Happy writing!

Everyone writes me in spanish, and I don’t know what they’re saying cause I’m a white girl that only knows some sign-language xD But I think amiga means friend, right? Like Amigo? anyway, I looked back at the post (x) and have decided to do different ‘mini-scenes’ where this may happen xD It’s probs AU though, but as always, I’ll do my best to try and stick to In-Character Portrayals of the Sonic Cast :)

(x)

1. hug, 2. flirt, 3. says ‘love’. 4. Anything first.

Prompt:

After defeating a giant robot, and having thought maybe that was the end, Classic and Modern Sonic stare up at the robot, before watching it fall and cause a domino effect on the other robots around it, traveling down for hundreds upon hundreds of miles.

They ‘yahoo’! as Classic Sonic spins up to belly-bump his older self, and then Modern happily turns around to Amy, who sighs and places a hand on her chest in relief.

“We did it…”

“We made it!” In his excitement, and having been secretly worried about her, he lifts her up and spins in the air, embracing her by her waist area before pulling her down and then dashing off to congratulate the others.

She’s a little dizzy and disoriented, but smiles in a humorous matter, dipping her eyelids down. “Hehe~ I knew it.” she gloated slightly, having been suspicious of his behavior before, but was still wobbly from the spinning.

Classic didn’t understand what she meant but tried to catch her as she fell over, also holding her a moment before she caught her bearings.

—-

“There’s no way we can take down that many invasions!”

“Not unless you have someone speedy to accompany you.” Sonic flicks his finger up just by her nose, startling her to moving backwards as he leaned forward to purposefully get her to stop talking and out of the conversation.

He then leans up and thumbs up Tails with a wink. “We’ll get the west-side invasion. You guys head on over to Park Avenue with the new recruit. Shadow? You take your team North. Silver? You’re South-end street. Everyone ready? Break a leg!”

Sonic took off, as Amy was covering her nose in a bit of flustered surprised before he whammed an arm into her to take her with him, making her ‘offph!’ as he went by.

“Hey! What happened to holding me like a lady!?” Amy argued, complaining a bit at how much he’s changed since she last saw him.

“Lady? What lady?” He comically looks around, as if innocent as she starts flailing around.

“Heeeyyy!!!”

“Haha! Hold on, Ames.” He turns her in the right way to hold her bridal style, “Oh, now there’s young woman.” he blinks as he looks directly at her, and then laughs.

“I’m only teasing, Amy.”

She tilts her head, not used to him acting this way, but smiles a little and blushes lightly, laughing a little with him. “Oh, Sonic..~”

—-

“We’re not gonna make it without backup!” Amy ducks, having an explosion going on over the trench she was hiding in, a lower level to the upper ‘no-man’s land’ above them.

Her walkie-talkie spurts some static for a minute as she hits it. “Hello? Anyone copy me?”

“Amy!”

She looks up from the trench and gasps. “Sonic!!!”

Sliding into the trench, he breathes heavily, gripping his chest as Amy drags the rest of him down towards the trenches safety.

They duck their heads as more explosions fly dirt out all over them.

“What on earth are you thinking!?”

“I heard you.” He smiles, panting, and then closing his eyes.

She suddenly realizes…

She looks down at where his hand is.

She removes the hand and holds one over her own mouth, “Oh my gosh! Sonic! You’re hurt!”

“You said you…er… needed backup…” He flinches forward a minute, wincing at the pain from the hit, but lifts a leg up to try and muffle any sound coming out of him.

“You can’t help me like this!”

“Says you…Ah!”

“Sonic!”

“I’m… I’m fine.”

“Why..? You were safer over there.” She looks up from the trench, seeing where the rest of the different teams lay and fought the gunfire.

Sonic pulled her back down, making her startled a second as he strained to speak.

“We’re all…. in this… ack-ssss…… t-together.” he breathed and winched hard, but kept speaking.

“But you got hurt…” Amy teared up, looking into each eye.

“Heh.” he smirked, weakly, before gently moving his hand from gripping her down to moving some hair out of her face, a gentle stroke of genuine care.

“That’s how.. some people… show their love… Amy.”

Her eyes shook at his words, before he gripped his stomach again, in extreme pain now.

In panic, she removed herself from him and took the walkie-talkie again. “Sonic’s down. Send the little guy in!”

But then the custom character and Classic Sonic swooped into the trench, landing in style as they both looked back up at the trench’s top, glaring from the battle they perfectly evaded to get there.

“Everyone..” Her eyes continued to swell with tears.

Classic Sonic turned to her, winking a reassurance that it would be alright, along the Custom character nodding to her a confident comfort as well.

—

After the battle, Amy held onto Sonic, as they watched the new recruit take down one of the major power towers that Eggman controlled, and converting it to Chaos Energy they could use, meaning they reclaimed some territory.

Classic was by his side, and Sonic figured that was a big help too.

He smiled before leaning his head back to her, frowning deeply that he was useless in this battle.

Though he had fought countless others.

“All seven chaos emeralds… I can finally feel them again.” He closed his eyes, as Amy worriedly looked down, lightly tapping the side of his face.

“Sonic..? Sonic, stay with me! You can’t rest just yet, you just got back! You can’t leave me again!”

She ducked her head, as Sonic opened his eyes, blinking in confusion.

“You act like I’m dying.” Sonic thought her a bit over-dramatic, placing a hand to the side of her face to get her head to go up, off of him. “What’s wrong, Amy..? I’m right here.. I’m not going anywhere.”

He smiled, as Amy continued to cry, making him think she didn’t believe him.

“I believe you, Sonic…” she admitted, as she leaned her head into his soft, gentle stroking before he stopped with his hand, and looked at her a little more concerningly. “I just worry… that if you leave again… you really won’t come back.” She turned back to him, as his eyes scanned hers, and suddenly he leaned up through the pain of his injuries and held her.

Her eyes shook in amazement, before she heard him gently say-

“Never again, Amy… I’m sorry. I’ll never leave you alone, without a hero, again. No one’s getting left behind again. I promise.”

She couldn’t help it, the tears came too fast.

She embraced him and cried, as he closed his eyes and let her release all the feelings she’d held in for so long.

He then turned around to see the Custom Character and Classic Sonic coming up over the hill. Seeing Amy crying in Sonic’s arms, they held back a moment, Custom smiling, thinking it was right to cry over a happy moment of victory, but Classic seemed confused; not sure why his older self wasn’t pushing her away. He leaned forward with his hands on his hips, scrutinizing over the situation and silently judging, though not making it hard to see, his older self.

Sonic just awkwardly smiled at the ‘company’ and then moved Amy away, smiling kindly to her and gesturing to the unwanted eyes.

Amy looked to Sonic and then the crew, before rubbing and wiping her eyes, smiling back, and helping Sonic to his feet.

Letting him lean on her, he happily shared her grin, and turned to the others. “Great work, team. Now… let’s go find the others. Tell them everything.”

They nodded, wanting to share this happy moment with them.

And then-

The earth began to rock.

“Sonic!” Amy held him tightly upwards so he didn’t fall over, still weak, when a robot came bursting from the ground.

“Amy! Look out!” he threw her to the side, as the robot shone a light to detect movement, and seemed to swallow Modern Sonic whole, digging back into the ground.

Amy held out her hand, turning around from where she had fallen, “Soooniiicc!!”

The two went down after him, following Amy into the tunnel below….

(It’s a happy ending, overall >w

#sonic forces #sonamy #sonamy forces #sonic #sonic and amy #amy rose #sonamy prompt #sonic prompt #cutegirlmayra #sonic the hedgehog #amy #sega #sonic game #sonic project 2017

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heartbxnd-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Back in our days

This is a discord thread with @auraguardians

Part 1 | Part 2

Part 3/3

Description: Their fateful encounter, that soon evolved into a Summer romance. Morty is nothing more than another teen living in the streets of Johto’s cities. Meanwhile Riley, who tagged along his uncle’s business trip, finds himself in this new region to him - in an attempt to escape from his dreadded memories assosciated with the Summer.

Once they were both actually completely clean and dressed again - Riley in the shorts and button-up shirt he'd picked out, and Enoki in a pair of Riley's jeans and the shirt Riley had worn the previous day - Riley tossed his bedsheets and Enoki's (still soaked) clothes in the wash and had set about making some breakfast for two.

It was... a strangely nice taste of a domestic setting. Riley was beaming as he got the jam out, to spread on their toast.

"Hey - what's your favorite flavor?"

Yet again they find themselves acting- completely wrapped up in this fantasy. A comforting setting for these two.

Morty was feeding their pokemon- having set Riolu's bowl down while he held out his ghosts' snacks. Both Misdreavus and Haunter were cheerfully chirping and giggling while eating off their master's hand.

"Ah-! Y'know I'm not quite sure, it has been awhile since I've had any..."

His voice trailed off, as he keptfeeding the ghost types.

"Oh hold on! I just remembered it- Pinap berry jam! I ate it all the time when I was younger!"

Now that he is done tending to his pokemon, he could return to Riley- this shirt looked quite oversized on his small body. So much so that one of his shoulders was even completely exposed, Morty was smiling as he watched over the toast being prepared.

While waiting on Enoki's answer, Riley would take out the whole set of jams his uncle had stocked in the fridge, spreading his own favorite blend on the first piece of toast. Payapa Berry...

"Aha, here we go - we have it! You're lucky, Enoki - Riolu here loves spicy food. And my uncle, he... spoils his Pokemon rotten, really, but they're contest pokemon so - psh. Such divas."

He laughed as he spread the jam out and passed the toast to Enoki, a little content sigh leaving him.

"So - not to... make things weird. But - would there be a way to keep in touch? Like... letters?" As soon as it's out Riley feels a blush spreading on his cheeks. Letters - thanks for that suggestion, uncle Aaron.

"I mean - we can talk about that later. There's still two days. I just - want you to know..." I'm still interested.

"Divas? Gee I can't imagine your uncle participating in contests..."

Morty chuckled lightly before he took the first bite out of his toast- that crunchiness, the taste...He wished he could wake up to this everyday.

His attention averted from the food- and went to Riley at his question, is this the part where he tells Riley to forget about him?

"Hah...Letters?...Yeah sure send them to me through the trash can..."

He tried to poke fun at it, but it wasn't quite working- now was it? Morty goes silent as he takes another bite and keep quietly chewing on the toast.

"...I'm heading to Kanto tonight, so..."

Morty sighed as he stopped eating- suddenly he couldn't bring himself to eat anymore of it.

"Riley-- maybe-"

The teen went silent as soon he heard a noise coming from the outside- was that the sound of a car?! It immediately prompted Morty to stand up straight, ready to dash out of there.

"Shit! Is that your--?"

Even Enoki's little comment didn't lighten the air at all - not with the blow Riley was sure was coming. Riley, maybe... we should just end it.

But even as he was steeling himself for that - Riley also heard the sound of the car pulling into the drive, and he didn't even need to tap into aura to know that sound.

"Ah - yeah, that's my uncle...! Quick, this way!"

Riley grabbed Enoki's hand to lead him through the house to one of the back windows, managing to give a soft laugh as he opened it all the way. "Here - go on."

He would tug Enoki up into a kiss, only hesitating briefly. "What time's the train? That is how you're leaving, right? Our ship leaves tomorrow night, so..."

Morty was quickly and easily dragged by the arm, thankfully the Haunter had picked up his belongings- unfortunately he had completely forgotten about his clothes which were being washed up.

Regardless of it- the teen had climbed up the window, and flung his body- he was about to jump. That is- until Riley pulled him in for one more kiss.

"Mn- don't worry about the train...! I...I promise I will show up there...! You will take the ship in Olivine city right?..."

He asked in a raspy tone, as he tried to muster a grin at him. He swears he can hear the uncle calling for Riley.

"Mm... yeah - 6pm departure. I'll... I'll see you there, Enoki."

He pressed in one more quick peck before letting him go, with the Pokemon following. Ah, shit, no time to clean up the kitchen...

"Haha, welcome back, uncle!!"

___________________________________________________________

The next night, Riley would be waiting by the docks - in a carefully chosen visible location with only his little Riolu and a oddly shaped bundle.

This might be a dumb idea but Riley will only really feel dumb if Enoki doesn't show up at all.

Riolu, in tune with Riley, kept whining and nuzzling up next to him every time the boy got choked up. He'd never admit it, but he'd been crying on and off all day - ever since leaving the house in Goldenrod behind.

Even Aaron was suspiciously quiet - only offering a blanket-y sensation of you'll be ok, kid.

"Yeah, bud... I know he'll show up."

The train was just some bullshit pulled out by Morty to try and get some time for himself.

See if he could get his mind straight, maybe return sooner to the streets. Admitedly, he didn't want to show up- he didn't want to create yet another painful memory that will only torment and fill him even further with guilt- of leaving Riley.

Many tears were shed, as the boy found himself at a loss- even his pokemon could feel it coming from him. If only he could be honest with Riley- speak exactly what he wanted all along.

Despite all the odds, he didn't break his promise- his way to the city was just painfully slow. His heart and chest ached, the moment he spotted Riley while still hidden in an alleyway- it hurt so badly. He just wanted to cower himself there, until his boyfriend was gone.

After about 5 minutes or so- he showed up, still wearing Riley's clothes- and still looking way too large for his body's size. He wasn't sure how to present himself to him, should he have a sad expression? A cheerful one? He decided to go with a neutral one- although his face did give signs that he had cried not too long ago.

"..."

The blond is at a loss for words, as such his gaze is quickly drawn into- whatever he has in his possession.

Riolu noticed Enoki first, and Riley would quickly wipe his face again before forcing himself to grin at the other boy. "H-Hey... You made it!"

He quickly took in everything - but most importantly, the fact that Enoki's eyes lingered on the little bundle Riley had with him. Of course. He cleared his throat and gave an anxious laugh.

"Uh - this... this is just some stuff... I've been meaning to give you, before I left. I just - I've been trying not to think about it, so. It's all here. Everything - um. Except your clothes, those... are probably packed up with my bed sheets. I forgot..."

Oh boy, not again.

Riley quickly wiped his eyes dry and laughed. "Sorry. You - you can keep mine, too. It's ok. They... look good on you, anyway." He teased, giving Enoki a little pat on his chest.

No, no- what are you doing?

The thought ran through his mind, as he seemingly accepted the bundle- reaching out for it, and bringing it back to his chest. So far Morty hasn't said a thing, he has been avoiding to look straight into the other's eyes- to establish a visual contact with him.

There is- another urge to cry, as his hold on what he has in his hand- tightened itself.

Morty took a deep breath- as he finally looked up at Riley's face, still no words- instead he was pulled into a tight hug- his head rested on his shoulder and he couldn't hold them back anylonger.

"...Riley..."

"I'm...I'm so sorry..."

His voice comes out raspy- cracking up by the sobs and sulking, as he tries to cling onto Riley for as long as he can.

"...I love you..."

And I will be back to my loneliness- from where I shouldn't have ever left to begin with.

For a moment, Riley was sure Enoki was just going to panic and reject him, but instead... here they were, hugging tightly while Enoki sobbed.

I love you.

Those were words Riley had not steeled himself for, and as such they set off the waterworks all over again. He held tight to Enoki, his face ending up buried in his beautiful soft hair, little hiccup-y sobs the only noise he could make for a while.

"I... love you, too. Enoki..." He sniffled and pulled back enough to meet Enoki's eyes. "Thanks for... making this the best summer ever. Maybe - um. Well. Have a safe trip - mind the weather. Don't want to... find out you got sick or something. Hah..."

Clearly, Riley was still holding on to that tiny shred of hope he'd hear from Enoki at all. He wiped his eyes again and sighed as the ship's horn went off and he heard his uncle calling for him - and with that, Riley cupped Enoki's cheeks and pressed in one more quick, hot kiss.

"What I mean is... Stay dry, honey."

He stayed back and watched his beloved Riley get on board of the ship, he stayed there hugging his gifts until the ship was gone- silently weeping.

Isn't this what you wanted? Needed all along? Back into being a nobody, a no one out in this world. Doomed to remember these better times.

With Riley gone- Morty was at a complete loss, he didn't know where to go next- or what to do. His mind was left in a numb state, as he wandered the streets and road- seemingly without any destination. Every inch of his body hurts- depite visibly giving signs of pain, tears shedding from his eyes- no one even batted an eye.

Back into being nothing- invisible.

He doesn't recall how he got to Goldenrod's train station- by now it is evident his body is moving in some kind of autopilot without any thoughts at all put into it. He just wanted to get out of here. Once on board of the train cart, he finds himself a corner within it to sit at- away from the very few lost souls in that place.

The trip would take the entire night, he had plenty of time to stare out at the night and the bundle- by his side. At some point- late into the night, all that the boy could really think of was Riley' face- his voice...Almost as if the bundle were beckoning him to open it. Finally he succumbed to it, and actually opened the thing up.

Right away he was greeted with a jar of Pinap berry jam - and the picture of that morning hit him. Next item- the teen desperately kept yanking the objects inside of it, each one bringing forth a memory. He only stopped when he found a letter.

By the end of reading it, tears no longer were being shed- because of how drained he felt. His fatigue had caught up to him- Morty had put everything back into the bundle, and he proceeded to put it on the floor next to his satchel- so he can spread his legs on the empty seat.

"...I'm not Enoki..."

The boy muttered to himself in a low tone, while drifting to sleep.

#☆.｡.:* ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴅᴇɴʏ ɪᴛs ᴇxɪsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ .｡.:*☆ Riley & Morty #[ saved ]#auraguardians #hi this is my favorite thread and I still weep over it y-y

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