#he's just used to being stuffed into lockers upside down
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what-eats-owls · 1 year ago
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Today is A Certain Broomstick's birthday, and so I have put together a playlist accordingly. You can find it here!
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re-ikrmso · 7 months ago
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READ BELOW. Criticism and questions are very welcome!
PREVIOUS PART/ [MASTERPOST]
Akira followed as stealthily as he could, attempting to evade the patrols. No distractions. He needed to follow the blood. Drips of it, smeared across the floor. The only tangible thing Akira had as proof that Akechi was alive.
Then, it stopped.
A safe room...
Akira couldn't even hope anymore.
There was a good chance that Akechi was long gone, but if he really was inside--this nightmare could end. Or at least, part of it could.
Akira entered inside, sighing. He just had to keep his chin up. Akechi was capable by himself, he wasn't dead. Maruki doesn't kill people. At least, not physically.
"Akech-?"
SNAP.
The rope ensnared Akira's ankle, pulling him up, nearly slamming him into the ceiling-- the scream of pain squeezed past the doors, echoing through the halls.
Akira panted, hanging, swinging upside down, his blood rushing to his head. It was painful, being held up by a rope--no, it was a wire--a wire that dug itself snugly into Akira's ankle. Akira's traps were made of rope. But this...
He attempted to reach at the wire with his dagger, but no matter what, he couldn't seem to reach his own ankle. His entire body hung suspended with Akira desperately trying to cut himself down.
Akira's eyes flitted over to the door, hearing a patrol of shadows converge to the entrance of the safe room. Akira bit into his arm, trying to muffle his pain.
"Did you hear something? It sounded like a scream."
"Blood. An intruder has arrived."
"Perhaps we should bring the messiah to see for himself. There is blood everywhere."
No...! If anyone could see a safe room, it would be him, COULD be him-
"No. He is busy. We shall save him the work."
"A misguided intruder...They will be found, like the other. They will be saved from their own pain."
Hurry up and get away...!
"Perhaps it was the savior's newest personal patient. We must succeed in bringing him back."
"Yes. It matters not who comes to defy us."
A pause. And then, the sound of footsteps trudging away, those slow steps sloshing against the metaverse floor. Akira felt the air tense, the palace security rising. But for now, he was safe.
The trap still stung, burned. Akira was almost sure he'd pass out.
"Ar-Arsene."
Akira's mask burned away, and soon-
SNAP.
Akira landed as smoothly as he could, with Arsene softening and readjusting his fall. He cried out as his back hit the floor.
Thank god for avoiding that damn table...I don't know how well I'd fare if I fell headfirst or neckfirst onto that...
Akira choked up a little, his lungs feeling compressed and tight. Akira finally examined the safe room, allowing himself to stay crumpled on the floor as a treat.
It was ravaged.
Destroyed. Trashed. It was almost the only words Akira could use to describe this place. Discarded packages of foods, and medicines lay strewn--the walls were rended and locker doors torn asunder, from anger or desperation. Couch covers shredded apart, pools of dried blood present across the fabric and stuffing.
At the least, Akira recognized the tear marks on the wall. Definitely not Maruki's style, or Sumire's.
If so, then... Akechi has also been setting up traps? Akira didn't remember setting any up in the saferooms. Unless he did, and Maruki-
Shut up.
Carefully, and painfully, Akira took to his dagger and wormed it between the wire and his leg.
If only it was Maruki who had walked into this trap instead of him... But he still had hope that it was Maruki who walked into his other trap.
But if it was Akechi...
"Dammit...!"
Akira staggered over to the couch, wrapping an adhesive bandage over his ankle. Akira felt pretty lucky he accidentally left such a thing in his pockets, especially when his team had moved onto more effective healing items. He could just use one of his personas, but the sight and feeling of his own ankle's flesh gleaming in the light had sickened him too much to not provide SOME physical comfort.
Frankly, if Akira hadn't had the bandage, or any healing items, spells--he would've torn apart the couch further and made a makeshift bandage.
Now that Akira thought about it, this was most likely why the couch was in such a state in the first place. Patches of the couch covering were gone, and whoever was in here was out of healing items and resorted to using anything.
Could it have been Maruki? No, there was too much blood everywhere. Unless Maruki was the self-sabatoging type and purposefully allowed himself to bleed after somehow gaining an injury, didn't bother using his powers to just patch himself up--then it wasn't him.
Could it be Sumire...? Sumire had snapped out of the delusions Maruki granted her once before--but that was triggered by Maruki and he was most likely still sitting on that chair, waiting for help.
And so, once again. The only person who could have been here was Akechi.
Akira wanted to continue. He needed to see more. But palace security was already too high for his liking. Even with his healing, his ankle still ached. He was dizzy, fatigued, sleepless...
But Akechi was still here. He had to be. Akechi needed his help. Sumire needed his help. Maruki...
...
Akira dug through his pockets and send down a small collection of things. Water, some chips. An obscene amount of fried bread and some more adhesive bandages were set onto the still intact table.
Akira gazed longingly at the fried bread, taking one from the small stockpile.
Nolstagia flooded his mind as he nibbled on the loaf. His first days of Shujin were lonely but soon he was comforted and allied with his first ever friend.
But Ryuji wasn't there to help him. Not Ann, not Yusuke, Makoto, Haru, Futaba, Morgana-- Nobody was.
No one was going to help him but himself. So much for his own bonds.
Akira grumpily stalked out of the safe room, not bothering to stay concealed. Akira kicked at the non-existent puddles of the metaverse, watching the droplets of pink and black water splash up against his outfit and hem.
He looked up, feeling eyes on him. And just in case--
Akira glanced up, his disappointment piercing through the camera.
"Maruki? If you are watching. You are dead fucking meat. "
No response.
"You won't get away with this. You know you can't keep hiding forever."
"I know what you did to me."
There was a ringing in Akira's ears. A spotlight seemingly came out of nowhere, blinding Akira.
Akira felt his eyes grow heavy, his breath slowing. His head bowed suddenly, as the strings of sleep nearly pulled him to the ground--
"Akira, I don't want to fight..."
[DETOX CURED AKIRA OF SLEEP!]
--and Akira snapped awake, slashing his dagger around, hoping to catch that voice in his ear.
But there was no one around. And the spotlight was gone.
Akira ran the rest of the way out of the palace, deciding to continue his one-sided confrontation another day.
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letshearitforthespacedads · 2 years ago
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Twin Flame - Pt 2 All That Glitters Is Not Gold
Twin Flame: Pt 3
Being Steve Harrington’s twin had its perks. Okay, there were a lot of perks to being a Harrington. One downfall though was somehow getting involved with a group of Pre-Teens with a knack of finding trouble, a girl from the Hawkins Lab with superpowers, and whatever the hell just came out of Jonathan Byers’ wallpaper?! God, you were just trying to get through your Senior year. Who would have expected the biggest surprise of the year would be falling for Eddie Freaking Munson.
CW: Playing it fast and loose with the timeline baby, Twin!Harrington, gratuitous use of the devil’s lettuce, High Schoolers are jerks, lots of plot and dialogue (sorry, but I wanna see Eddie and Reader fall in looooove), mentions of past trauma, hints that reader has some PTSD from S1, even though Steve dresses like a sailor reader has the mouth of one, not Beta read, eventual SPICE, Minors please advert your eyes and hit the road–this one isn’t for you, time jumps, tried to write reader as GN! as possible but I think some things slipped by me, Story starts in-between S1 and S2.
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Gif not mine. Credit to the creator ;)
It had all started a week after all the nightmarish events that had almost cost countless lives. You hadn’t slept much. You hadn’t eaten much. You barely spoke to your parents, or to Steve.
Your grades were slipping. Your crush on Josh had completely evaporated overnight and you had continued to dodge his calls, you guessed perspective had something to do with it and just weren’t horny. Especially when every time you closed your eyes you thought of the monster.
The monster hunched in Jonathan Byers living room. The thing that was dripping and oozing god knows what. The thing with rows of teeth just ready to rip you and the others apart and damn, had it tried. 
You felt like you kept seeing them everywhere. The things from the Upside Down, the Demogorgon’s, as the kids had also coined them. Where did they even come up with this stuff? 
The Demogorgon’s were everywhere in your peripheral, you felt like you were going crazy. You felt like not only were the eyes of the other High Schoolers always on you as most had also noticed a change in you and had started keeping a wider birth. But that something from the Upside Down had escaped, or maybe had never left at all and it had its eyes on you, on all of you.
It gave you the chills. You were freaked out. Totally freaked out. 
After your third unsuccessful attempt to get into your locker, you let out a defeated groan and let your forehead collide with the frustrating contraption. “Jesus Christ, just open you piece of shit.” You mumbled weakly striking the ugly blue painted metal with the flat of your palm.
“Problem Harrington?” A familiar voice asked from next to you. Followed by the sound of them easily unlock and gliding their own locker open.
You jumped, heart skipping at least two beats maybe even three. Your exhaustion getting to the point where you had lost touch with your own reality and didn’t even know he had walked up next to you. Great! Totally ready, alert, and prepared for another Demogorgon attack.
“Shit!” You gasped, looking to the locker next to yours. Eddie Munson standing there in all his glory, signature lopsided grin on his face as he stuffed a large notebook into his bag.
“God, Eddie! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You squeaked. You readjusted the bag hanging off your shoulder. You turned back to your locker, trying to hide how hot your cheeks were by staring hatefully at the locked door in front of you.
“Sneak up? By sneak up do you mean, calmly walking to my locker before lunch. You know, I have a useful spell that could help you.” Eddie continued smiling at you, leaning casually against his locker after closing it shut. Moving his whole body to face yours.
You couldn’t say the two of you were friends. But you had always been friendly. You had started sharing small talk throughout the day once Senor year had started since your assigned lockers ended up being next to each other. Occasionally the small talk would turn into flirty one-liners, trying to see who could get the other to laugh first. You had also shared a few classes together. But never seemed to take that next step into friendship. You guessed Eddie wouldn’t want a friend like you, someone associated with Steve, or Tommy H, or Carol. The school bullies and you couldn’t fault him for that. Not like they made it easy for him, like ever.
“Yes ass, that’s exactly what I mean. What are you doing at your locker anyways? Don’t you like, never use it” You teased attempting to get into your locker again, at this rate you would just have to skip lunch probably.
“Not for school this time. We’ve got a game this Friday and I needed to check the campaign one last time. Can’t make it too easy for my sheep.” He paused for a moment, looking you over. “Hey, not to sound like some kind of dick. But ugh, you don’t look so good Harrington.”
“Thanks Eddie. Just what everyone wants to hear.” You mumbled. God, this was embarrassing. Is this what everyone at school thought? You were never one to care about anyone’s opinion of you, but you were vulnerable right now.
Your skin felt rubbed raw and sensitive to the touch. Everything just felt wrong. You especially didn’t want Eddie to think that about you. You didn’t know why, but you actually cared what he thought.
“No, I mean, you look sick? Do you need to go to the nurse? I can walk with you if you want?” He offered. Eddie had always been so kind, you never understood why everyone was such an insufferable jerk to him. 
“Not necessary. I’m fine, really. Just haven’t been sleeping well, or at all. I feel like Nancy from Nightmare on Elm Street right now.” You lied. You were not okay. And honestly you felt a little bad for lying to Eddie just now. You wanted to tell him exactly how you were feeling.
“You know I can help with that?” Eddie offered quickly, his eyes darting around the schools hallway that had mostly cleared out due to the lunch period starting.
“Oh yeah? How? And PLEASE don’t say anything super corny, I might just die. I’m already close.” You joked giving up on your locker completely for right now. You turned to face him, readjusting your bag again.
“Weed.” He said, wiggling his fingers like a magician who had just pulled the rabbit out of his hat.
“Seriously?” You couldn’t help but smile, your eyes joining his to look for any possible ease droppers in the hallway.
“Helps me sleep.” He said matter-of-factly. His grip growing a little tighter on his lunch box.
“I don’t know of any parties this weekend to be able to score. Guess no one wants to party after all the…disappearances.” You said weakly. Disappearances is what the suites wanted Hawkins to believe, and they made that very clear to you and your brother that night. Or else. You didn’t want to know what ‘Or else’ meant.
“Lucky you have me as a locker neighbor.” Eddie smiled, his chest puffing out slightly in a confidence you were used to seeing on him.
“Oh yeah? And what makes me so lucky?” You played along.
“I know exactly where you can score” Eddie smiled, lifting his lunchbox your eyelevel.
______________________________________________
You hit Eddie’s joint again, trying to keep the smoke in your lungs as long as humanly possible, before letting out a harsh and very unladylike cough. You weren’t a stoner but had dabbled from time to time during social occasions. Eddie was sitting in the driver’s seat of his van laughing hysterically at the story you were telling him, at Steve’s expense of course. 
“And then what happened?” He giggled, leaning back in his seat. Big brown eyes on you, completely absorbed in your story.
“Oh shit,” you coughed a bit more before continuing. “Well, our dad came home like, literally 30 seconds after that, and lost it. Like totally lost it. And once he saw the dog, I swear, it was like a cartoon, you could literally see the steam coming out of his ears. Then he started chasing Steve around the backyard. Steve stayed in the treehouse for like, 4 days before he agreed to come down. Oh my god, it was priceless.” 
“Who knew King Steve was such a badass little kid.” Eddie said before taking the joint back from your offered hand.
“Ooooo he was soooo bad.” You giggled. 
The two of you settled into a comfortable gap of conversation as Eddie took another puff of his joint. Dio was playing over the radio; the volume had been turned way down as you could properly tell Eddie your story. This was the first time in over a week, you actually felt at ease and comfortable. Eddie was so right.  
“You have a nice laugh.” He said, offering the joint back to you.
You declined his offer of the joint with a quick shake of your head. You were at you limit, anymore and the paranoia would set in. And you already had enough of that.
“Really?” You asked feeling a little self-conscious. “It’s not like, screechy? Steve always said I laugh like the Garbage Queen from Fragle Rock”
“Well, now that you mention it.” Eddie teased while he wiggled his eyebrows at you playfully, taking more puffs from the joint.
You gave his arm a gentle shove. “Don’t give into the dark side Munson.”
“It’s funny, ya know. You’re really nothing like your brother, but it you two seem close.” He observed, finally snubbing out the joint in his cars very overfilled ashtray.
“Yeah, we’ve always been close. Guess it’s a weird twin thing.” You offered.
“Most definitely a weird twin thing,” He agreed. He smiled at you slowly and you actually had to admit that damn, he had a nice smile.
“So, what about you? Any brothers or sisters?” You offered, trying to think about anything other than Eddie Munson’s smile right now.
“Nah, only child.” He answered. His body language changed, and he seemed uncomfortable. He tried to play it off by suddenly looking through the pile of cassettes stuffed into the van’s armrest. His smile now gone.
You immediately got the hint he didn’t want to talk about his family and decided to change the subject, quickly. “I’m not to lie to you Munson. I might be too high to go back to school.”
“Wanna ditch?” He suddenly looked up to you, there it was. The smile was back.
“Aren’t you at your ditch limit for the year?” You crossed your arms and quirked an eyebrow at him smile on your face growing bigger.
“I’m already going to fail Mr. Anderson and Mrs. Robertsons classes. It’s cool.” Since you hadn't said no outright to his question, he started his Van and threw it in reverse. When you didn’t say anything again to stop him or protest, he started backing out of his spot.
You didn’t mind leaving and spending more time with Eddie. Especially since you had also Mr. Anderson next period. You made a sour face thinking of the teacher before adding. “Mr. Anderson is such a dick. I swear he looked up my skirt last week.”
“He definitely did.” Eddie said while using his rearview mirror to reverse.
 “You saw!??” You squealed in shock. Your arm shooting out to grab the loose fabric in the sleeve of his denim jacket.
“Up your skirt? Or Mr. Anderson looking up your skirt?” He threw the Van back into drive but looked at you before hitting the gas to leave.
“Both? Either?” You asked, your cheeks burning hot with embarrassment. OH MY GOD.
“I don’t make it a habit to look up girl’s skirts if they don’t want me too. And yeah, Mr. Anderson is a total creep. Why do you think I stood on my desk and started reciting ‘The Raven’?” He questioned; eyebrow raised like it hadn’t it been the most obvious thing to do at the time.
“Oh my god, he gave you like two weeks’ worth of detention for that!” You yelled, turning your body completely in your seat to face him as he exited the Hawkins High parking lot.
“It was worth it, what he was doing was not cool.” He said simply before pulling a cigarette out of the pocket of his denim jacket. He placed it between his teeth and lit it with one hand, as the other kept driving.
Your grip on his jacket loosened as you moved your hand to his shoulder. “Thank you, Eddie. I uh, I really appreciate that.” You said sincerely. Besides Steve, no guy had ever stood up for you like that.
“Anytime Harrington. But let’s not hope more pervy old men try to get a look at the goods.” He laughed, offering you the cigarette.
“And a totally sweet moment, gone in the blink of an eye.” You made and exploding gesture with your hands before declining the cigarette.
“So where to? Movies? Book store? Record store?” Eddie offered, bringing the cigarette back to his lips.
“Record store, Mr. Freedman who owns the Movie Theater would absolutely snitch to my parents if he saw me skipping class.”
“Must suck that everyone in town knows your parents.”
“It’s the worst. Not the literal worst, you know? Because there’s kids starving all over the world, and there’s the AID’s epidemic, and War like, everywhere at the time. But damn, for my small-town rich kid ass, it SUCKS.”
“I don’t care what anyone says, you are definitely the cooler Harrington.”
You smiled leaning back into your seat, “I know.”
 AN: Do we hate it? Do we love it? Let me knowwww. Like, comment, reblog for a piece of my heart.
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bots-and-cons · 3 years ago
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K, so I was just bawling my eyes out so kinda angsty but very stereotipical idea. Reader is a dead teen(miko's age), they ask the bots for help to lay down and rest, in the process they become friends, so after various months,a year maybe. They find the missing item, a thing she was attached to in life, put it in the top of her grave in the forest(who is covered with forget-me-not flowers) and she finds also her ghost dog who is waiting for her and she is all like: "Hey pal, do you think mom is waiting for us? She will be mad we got late again" and vanishes while walking away. Headcannons for Optimus, Ratchet and Bulkhead. Pls
I freaking love this, this is such a great request and I love that it makes me kinda sad. I kinda made this so it was in the same au as the grim reaper stuff, so I tagged this with the reaper au tag as well. I’ve been watching Supernatural, so I kinda used the ghost trope from that with this, also only the Optimus one went like you wanted, but I like them anyway
~Bulkhead~
•You just kinda started appearing at the base, first it was just a glimpse in the corner of his optic or slight footsteps echoing behind him when there was no one else around
•You were pretty lost when you first started appearing, you didn’t know where you were or what had happened to you
•When you started to remember you were dead, you started appearing more frequently and one day you gathered the courage to ask Bulk for help
•You appeared before him when he was alone and explained your situation, Bulk was like “What?” and brings you to see the rest of the team, hoping they might have some idea on how to help you
•None of the other bots really know how to react or what to do, so Miko and Bulk start doing some research with the assistance of Raf
•You’re thankful for the help and you disappear somewhere for a while again, before appearing in front of them again
•Miko finds out the whole “being tethered to an object thing” and everyone starts turning the base upside down to find something you could be attached to
•No one finds anything for months, and you just have to adjust to living at the base, because the object is the and you can’t leave
•Eventually it turns out one of your parents worked at the base when it was still used by the military and Miko finds something of yours in one of the lockers, that your parent had kept after you passed
•When Miko shows it to you, you know right away that “this is it” and now it’s just upto them to find out where you’re buried
•You had forged a good relationship with Bulk especially, and he comforted you a lot when you were having some existential crisis about being a ghost, and never being able to move forward
•The rest of the team decided to let you pass on in peace, so Bulk and Miko were the only ones there when they placed the item on your grave
•You disappear with tears in your eyes and waving at them as you walk away from them
~Optimus Prime~
•He started hearing crying and whispers at the base, and he didn't really know what to think of it
•Miko of course was the first one to suggest the base was haunted
•Optimus didn't really take her seriously, but oh boy was he wrong not to
•When you first appear, your presence is pretty unstable, because you've died recently and have no idea what you're doing with the whole ghost thing
•Optimus learns how to sense when you're in the room and stuff like that
•When you first appear and start talking to him he is trying to stay very calm but in his head he's like "dear Primus what is happening?"
•He is tired, he is stressed, and he doesn't even really mind that you're a ghost
•What does bother him, is that you seem to grow more restless with each passing day, you want to be put to rest, you want to see your passed loved ones again and you're tired of feeling so alone
•Optimus does his best to help you find what you're tethered to and when he eventually manages that
•When you tell him where you're buried, he goes there, and places the stuffed dog toy on the grave
•A ghost dog appears, startling him a bit when it woofs at you and you pet it
•”Mom is gonna be mad at us for being so late again, huh?”
•You disappear with a wave and a thank you
•Optimus feels oddly relieved and kinda sad that you're gone, but in the end he is happy you've moved on
~Ratchet~
•Ratchet thought he was finally losing the last of his neural network, because he was hearing and seeing things
•But it ended up being you, a ghost, which didn’t really make him feel any more sane
•When you appear on his shoulder or hand, he almost falls on his aft because you surprised him pretty badly
•He asks Raf if humans have the ability to just appear and disappear like that, even though he already knows they don’t
•When you start talking as a disembodied voice, that’s also pretty freaky, but that’s just because you don’t know how to make yourself appear for long times yet
•But when you learn how to and you’re able to properly communicate, you tell him what’s going on
•You tell him there is something in the base that’s keeping you there, even though you don’t know what it is or where it is
•Ratchet helps you find the item and brings it to your burial site
•You appear again and there is like this deep sigh, but it’s not coming from you, it’s more like in the air around you
•There is this calm feeling that comes over Ratchet as well when you disappear into a mist
•You’re crying and a faint “thank you” hangs in the air after you’re gone
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sallyf4ce · 4 years ago
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wolves
chapter IV
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-> sally face x f!reader
-> enemies? to lovers
-> previous | next
cw: drugs, cigarettes, violence, homophobia
*does not follow original plot of sally face*
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summary: (y/n) and travis make up (ish), (y/n) gets hurt again (you really shouldn’t be surprised), larry gets a little moody (i don’t think he likes (y/n) very much), sal makes a move on (y/n) (although he doesn’t know he did)
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“You’re (y/n), right? New kid?” Travis looks at you as you press the wet cloth to your nose. You nod.
“How’d you know?”
“Sal said it. he muttered. The disgusted look on his face was proven a facade by the blush on his cheeks.
“You’re in love, buddy.” you laugh.
“No i’m fucking not! You’re so fucking stupid, what the fuck? Who could love a faggot like Sally f-” you cut him off my shoving his head into the wall roughly. You don’t know what came over you, but being homophobic is still homophobic even if you’re in denial. You convinced yourself that it wasn’t about sally, it was just you being an ally. Way to kill the mood, travis.
“You pull that shit one more time and I'll leave you without teeth, blondie. Or would you rather i tell your dad that you hit girls?”
He squirms underneath your palm. “Sorry.” he looks at you with a pleading face.
You sigh and let him go. “S’fine. You need to learn how to control your anger, though, fuckface. You’re not gonna get anywhere with that attitude.” stuffing the bloody towel in your bag, you lead him out the door.
“I hate you.” Travis scoffs.
“What did i say?”
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><
“Larry, she’s already closer to travis than she is to us and they just met. Travis is a full-on dick, and they’re being all friendly! I didnt even know that was possible!” Sal chucks his bag in his locker. He hasn’t known you for long, but longer than travis! Plus he’s way nicer, too! Why’d you have to go and get all friendly with his bully?
“I don’t fucking like it either, sally face. Maybe we should just stay away from them.” Larry crossed his arms and leaned against the lockers.
Sal didn’t want to stay away from you, though. You were sweet, he was sure, just a little distant. Plus you just sort of intrigued him. He wanted to know why you were like this, what happened to you, why you had a prosthetic. Maybe it was hypocritical of him, though. He's only told Larry and Ashley about what happened to him, so he shouldn’t be picking at your trauma. you’ll tell him when you feel comfortable with it, but you’d need to be comfortable with him for that. and right now, it seems like you’re pretty comfortable with his bully.
“let’s go, dude. class starts in 5.”
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><
After grabbing your schedule with Travis, you set your stuff in your new locker (which smelled pretty good, surprisingly.) and began walking to your first class, math. Travis laughed at you when you read your schedule outloud and you gave him a whack on the head. What an idiot. He headed off to his first class, english.
you opened the door to the classroom and coughed to get the attention of the teacher, Mrs. Packerton.
“Ah, lovely! Class, say hi to (y/n) (l/n)!” she smiles as you awkwardly wave.
“You’ll be sitting in the back, right beside Sal.” an inaudible groan leaves your cracked lips as you make your way towards him, trying not to make eye contact.
“uh, here.” he moves over. you plop yourself down next to him and open your notebook.
“we’re doing a test right now. i’m pretty sure you won’t have to do it, since it’s your first day and all.” his blue hair bounces as he looks over to you again. it looks fluffy.
“you wanna touch it?” he chuckles. you don’t want to come off creepy, but he’s offering, right?
you reach out your prosthetic hand but quickly pull it back and switch it, realizing you can’t actually feel with it. he chuckles at your mistake and leans in to your touch.
you were right. it felt like clouds, puffy but still silky. it wasn’t combed properly, though.
“Mr. Fisher and Mrs. (L/n), you little lovebirds. hands to yourselves, please.” Mrs. Packerton laughs a little. “Ah, young love.”
you quickly pull your hand back and flush.
“stupid old lady.” you mutter.
“Mrs. P’s nice, she’s just a little… enamoured in her students’ love lives.” sal laughs.
“stop, you’re making her sound like a pedophile!” you cover your mouth to suppress your laugh and sal’s face heats up even more. He made you laugh!
You both quieted down as Sal continued his test and you doodled in your sketchbook.
“are you okay? after travis, you know.” he hummed, a mix of concern and jealousy swirling in his eyes.
“uh, yeah. i’m fine.”
“You sure? Your lips look pretty busted.”
“It’s all good.”
“why do you hang out with him, anyway?” he turned his test upside down and faced you again.
“what do you mean?” you’re confused.
“he hit you in the face first thing in the morning. If i was you, i wouldn't really like him.” sal gripped his pencil.
“are you jealous?” you question, a smirk on your face.
“No.” his expression is hidden behind his mask. you look into his eyes, trying to make him blush.
the blue is a different blue than the one you saw yesterday. it’s lighter, almost like a porcelain blue.
“whatever you say, porcelain face.”
“porcelain face?”
“your mask, and your eyes, i guess. they’re like a porcelain doll’s.”
he hums.
“what are you then? metal hand? cyborg? fist of steel?”
“you forgot iron fist.”
“iron fist?”
“sure.” you grin. sal’s heart flutters again.
“Alright children, please hand in your tests and nicely file out the class. The bell will ring any moment.” Mrs. Packerton smiles sweetly and starts collecting tests. You grab your bag and leave the class.
Sal looked around the room for a bit, looking for you. A flash of (h/c) hair leaving the room catches his eyes. He tries running after you, but you’re already heading towards your next class.
•Lunch time•
“Shut the fuck up, Trav. I said she was stupid, not stupid hot. I don't know where you got hot from! I literally never said it.” You shoved his shoulder. He just snickered and continued teasing you.
“Hey, (y/n)! Come have lunch with us!” Sal saw you walking with travis. He waved you over from the cafeteria. Travis immediately stopped laughing and sneered. He quickly began walking over to sal, raising his fist.
“Leave us alone, fucking fag-” travis swung at sal but you stepped in front of them, raising your arm to cover sal’s face since he was taller.
Travis throws punches like a wrestler, You already knew that. Maybe you shouldn't have used your real hand to catch it.
His fist slammed into your forearm roughly and you flinched.
“Fuck- travis, go cool off. Now. Leave.” you hold onto your arm. It stings, but it's not broken. You’ll be fine.
“You’re all a bunch of-” he stops mid sentence as you give him a glare. It sort of said ‘you’re gay too, dumbass.’ he scrunched his eyebrows and walked off.
“Oh my fucking god!” a girl with brown hair ran over to you and lightly grabbed your arm.
“This her, sal? Are you (Y/n)?” she looked at you. She seemed very sweet. Kind of reminded you of your cousin.
“Uh- yeah- can you let go?”
She smiles in apology and lets go.
“You didn't have to do that, (y/n).” sal scratches the back of his head. You’ve gotten hurt twice because of him. How are you supposed to be friends if the only thing sal does is hurt you?
“I think maple might have an ice pack in her lunch. Can you come sit with us?” He hopes you say yes.
“Yeah, okay.” you needed the ice pack and travis was nowhere to be seen, so you didn’t really have a choice.
“Hey, (y/n).” Larry grumbles as you walk to their table. It seems he’s upset with you.
“I just saved your buddy from travis. Not to your liking or something?” you look up to him. If something’s wrong, he should just fucking say it. Not beat around the bush like a pussy.
“Yeah. you and travis seem to be getting along well.” he finally makes eye contact with you. Sal and the girl seem uncomfortable.
“We all got our issues, asshole. Some of us just know how to deal with them better than others.” You sneer. He’s allowed not to like Travis, but he’s not allowed to be a bitch to you because you actually understand his actions and choose to help him instead of ignoring him.
“Whatever.” he spits. You turn to sal.
“I’ll get my own ice.” you begin walking away. “Also, watch your dog.” you hear sal chuckle as larry groans. He walks up to you before you can leave, Larry throwing his arms up in the air in disbelief.
“Hey, uh, (y/n)? I’m sorry you got hurt. Could- could i make it up to you somehow?” his hand is on yours. It’s warm, he’s probably blushing hard under his mask.
“Sure, sally. How would you do that?” you spin around to face him. You can see his mask rise a little and his smile peaks through.
“Do you have a phone?” he pulls his cell out. It’s just a simple black flip-phone with a few paint splatters.
“I do, it’s in my locker. I dont have my number memorized, though. Stupid area codes.” you mumble. “You wanna come get it with me?”
Sal looks back to his friends. Ash is nodding frantically while Larry twirls a cigarette through his fingers, still mad.
“Alright.”
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taglist: @purelydarling @deadpoetsandhoney @ghostfacefricker6969 @percyyzz @whatsurgamertag @kiillian @potatochic2003 @beingaweebishell @glitterydonutangel @izzydrawsandwrites @angellicbitch @elebeleb @dream-of-eros @mr-bombastic
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yarbz · 4 years ago
Text
cowardly game of rival — n.jaemin ( f )
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synopsis!
 ━ as the girl’s football team captain, you were used to the endless derogatory taunts, the wolf-whistling, the attempts at romance being boys telling you what they thought of barcelona’s starting XII. na jaemin fell into all those catergories, a detestable flea in your hair. as sworn enemies, there was not even an inkling of romance, and you were convinced that your attraction to him was ONLY physical. weren’t you?
pairing ━ na jaemin x female!reader
word count ━ 6k
genres ━ fluff, rival!au, football!au, comedy, romance, very little of the football game is described in detail.
warnings ━ profanity, football terms, dirty jokes, y/n and jaemin are literally just cowards
( author's note! )
this one came to mind when i thought of how i love female footballers and decided that jaemin would be the idiot in question to chicken out of confessing to their crush by being an ass instead. i really hope you like it !! other notes are sissoko is the name of like three different players and a cracker is slang for a really good goal.
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Football.
A sport of creatively insane wits, fancy footwork and incoherent celebrations. Those were all the things you loved about it, along with the ridiculously cute uniform.
It provided you an escape from the man's world, a chance to carve out your own story, free from the shackles of stereotypes. At least, that's what you'd initially thought.
Unfortunately, the boy's football team made it their sole objective in life to demean you. As captain, you took on the strenuous task of refusing to resort to physical violence when a stupid comment about your short length was made or when boys assumed you couldn't tell your Sissoko's apart (you could, quite well actually).
You had taken it as a sign of war, and refused to comment on their pathetic sneers. You did, however, feel as if Na Jaemin made a blood pact or something to be a parasite towards you.
He stood at the cusp of six foot, towering over you like an evergreen beanstalk, cheshire-cat like smile taunting you. Chocolate colour tresses fell over his eyes in straight lines, shielding his forehead.
It's not like you paid attention to his visage, but even you had to admit in your spite that he was attractive. And horribly so.
Today started like every other, going to your locker before heading to your homeroom. Luckily, you'd managed to get there before the freshmen started to pile in. Being a senior had its positives along with its various faults, one of them being the early access you got to the school.
You jammed your key in the lock, flinging open the locker door, making quick work of exchanging your books. In your fast-paced stupor, you didn't notice the figure leaning behind the door. You slammed the door shut, nail catching an patch of skin, scraping it.
"If you wanted me to leave, you could've been less catty." The voice wheedled, throwing a withering glare in your direction. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, arms crossed across your chest.
"Jaemin." You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Why are you hiding behind my locker? Are you looking for a death wish?"
He sat up slowly, soothing his reddening nose, suddenly regaining his smile as he leaned closer towards your face. "If I was looking for a death wish, I'd eat whatever food you just stuffed in there."
"Fuck off. Don't see you making any gourmet meals."
"I'm the gourmet meal." He slithered, breath fanning your nose. From this distance, you could see the wonder swimming within his eyes, breath caught in your throat.
Damn, he was too fine.
You tore your gaze from his eyes, "And yet, I don't feel inclined to taste it." He jumped back in surprise, eyes widening, giving you an opening to dash. Chuffed that you left him speechless, you walked towards your next class, resisting the urge to turn back to revel in his awe-struck face.
Jaemin's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, crooked smirk hanging from his lips. He watched you stalk away, cursing underneath his breath softly. You carried a fiery aura around you, burning him with every snarky remark — even though it beat him bruised ghastly lavenders, he could bear to play with fire if it meant you would pay him attention.
You see, Jaemin did not hate you as per say. The 'hate' which you believed in was merely his inability to profess his affections towards you. For lack of a better word, he was a coward.
A dashingly handsome one, but a fragile, chicken-legged coward all the same.
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You'd made it to class in record time, ego bared boldly on your shoulders, attracting the curious eyes of your best friends Yangyang and Donghyuck. Both were terrorists in their own right, but you couldn't help loving them all the same. Sure, they came as a dreadful pair, but love had decided to shackle your heart to them.
"What's got you so happy? Jaemin finally drop dead?" Yangyang joked, shifting to make space for you. Headband strapped to the pinnacle of his forehead, he grinned at you from beneath the base of stretchy ebony material.
"No..not yet." You hummed, sad lilt to your tone.
"Awh, didn't kill him yet?" Donghyuck teased, nudging Yangyang in their laughter. "I think it must be love stopping you from committing the crime yourself." You shoved both, peals of laughter tickling your throat at their whines of pain.
"If you don't shut up, I'll be killing you two instead, never mind Jaemin." You snapped. "Love is what I feel when I score a cracker from the halfway line. Seeing Jaemin makes me want to jump out of the nearest window."
"Are you sure it's not just unresolved sexual tension? I, too get antsy when I haven't jacked off—"
"Finish that sentence and you'll have no arms."
"I'm flexible enough to suck myself off." Yangyang mused, "You'll never stop my libido."
"You're disgusting." You and Donghyuck said in sync, swatting his grabby hands from flying at your shoulders. Quite frankly, you didn't want to hear about his freakishly boneless limbs, or his untameable sex drive, nor hear anything about his genitals at all.
"Does that count as self—"
"Yes, it does. Please don't be telling people that I'm your friend, or that you can do that. It's not a little icebreaker."
Friendship with these two had crossed all sorts of personal boundaries you didn't know existed, and it was starting to decompose you, like a rotting piece of cabbage infested by slugs, yet still hanging on for the glimpse of sunlight to regenerate.
Okay, so you were being dramatic. But, that didn't explain their dire need to over share certain aspects of their lives with you.
"Doesn't change the topic at hand —Did you get my pun?" He asked, looking for Donghyuck's reaction.
"I did. Not going to comment on it before she breaks my arms. Just know I enjoyed it very much."
"If I wanted to mess around with Jaemin, I'd put my hand in a beehive. It'd sting less." You snarled, slamming down your books. They winced comically, faces alert as the teacher walked into the class.
Apart from football, you enjoyed learning — how to make things, break things, self defense, people skills, and education fell not too far from that. Classes like biology interested you greatly, which is why you found yourself fully immersed in the process of respiration.
Your mind drifted for a second, thinking back to what he'd said. Was it actually sexual tension? Did you actually bare an emotion other than loathing towards him? Then, you thought of that face and how you'd want to do nothing more than break his pretty little nose—
Yeah. There it was. You were normal after all.
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School had come to her daily dreadful end, and you were happily striding into the ladies' changing rooms for football training. Nobody had gotten here yet, luckily.
You glanced over into the full body mirror, tugging at your shorts until they fell just above the bump of your knee, pulling your sock midway at your calf. Lean abs shone underneath the dim light, and you proudly paraded around the room, happy to be alone.
A knock on the door came, and you swung the door open with a feverish excitement. "Who is it?"
"Didn't take me as a bra kinda girl. Was thinking more spandex or a binder." Jaemin seethed, hands on hips, azure jersey hanging off his lithe frame.
"You're insufferable. Why are you here?" You groaned, choosing to ignore his taunt at your breast size. His eyes crinkled into upside down crescents, wandering lower to the dip of your frilly black bra.
"To see my favourite girl, of course." He whistled, eyes still glued to your unmarked expanse of skin. "I think those need a new owner." He pointed towards your chest.
"Preferably one whose face I can stand to look at."
"I'm roaring with laughter." You snarked, voice dripping with sarcasm, making no attempt to cover yourself up. Jaemin was still staring, face flushed a flaming cerise. "You gonna keep staring or are you gonna leave me alone?"
"I'm not staring. Why are you staring at me?" He shot defensively. Your eyes narrowed at him, watching his cheeks darken with every lingering stare.
"You're in the girl's changing room, drooling over two lumps of fat on the body of a girl that you hate. The real inquisition here is your lack of sensibility to stop thirsting after anything with a vagina."
Jaemin stayed silent, eyes boring holes into your full lips, tongue instinctively darting out to wet his own nimble, chapped ones. Rolling your eyes, you lead him to the door, hand clasped against the door handle.
Then, you heard loud footsteps approaching the room, incoherent rambling increasing in clarity. You began to conjure up a plan, wondering how on Earth you'd be able to kick Jaemin out without the girls knowing.
With the shouts of the team gradually getting closer, you panicked, chucking Jaemin into a locker.
"Fine, I'll leave! Lemme out!" He squirmed, trying to come out of the metal confines.
"You can't leave now, they're literally outside. Do you want to be stomped to death by Nike Mercurials?" You hissed, closing the door over, much to his protests.
"Don't wanna die with the last image being your breasts."
"If you survive this, I'll gladly provide you a new image."
He shut up at that, and you straightened, reaching for your jersey in a false calmness. The girls burst in, squeals of various greetings being thrown across the room.
You smiled gently at them, encouraging them to get changed, joining in to laugh at their jokes. The topic kept shifting from manicures to new boots before finally settling on Na Jaemin.
"Cap'n, what's going on with you and Jaemin?" One of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes softly. "A boy on the football team told me that you guys are dating."
Dating..that devil? A sin punishable by death! You repelled all instinct to shudder in disgust, instead choosing to maintain a neutral expression.
"I am absolutely not dating Na Jaemin. He's a despicable little mongrel and I'd rather eat my shoe—"
"Mon bébé chérie, why do you curse me like this?" Jaemin squeezed from the locker, voice like a wounded puppy.
"Did you hear that? I think it was—"
"No! It's my Jaemin impression. Isn't it so good?" You spluttered, voice rising in volume. You were sure that your face was a painful beetroot, breathing crazily as you over-exerted yourself.
"Cap'n, it was so good I almost thought Jaemin was in here with us!" She gushed, hands clasped. "You guys would be so cute together. Even if you don't like him, I think he most definitely has feelings for you."
The rest of the girls joined in at this, shouts of 'you should take a chance!' resounding in the hollow room. You'd already ruled out that as a possibility, chalking it down to his uncontrollable thirst for being a pest. Na Jaemin was your rival, the utter bane of your existence, a rodent that fed on robbing your spirits dry of any positivity.
"He'll get a chance when pigs fly." You muttered, noticing their eyes staring at you inquisitively, as if they knew something you didn't. Awkwardly, you smiled at the girls, ushering them towards the door, scanning the hallway after the last one had skipped out.
Jaemin untangled himself from the locker, straightening his limbs, pulling at his calves in a stretch. You peered over your shoulder, frown deepening at him.
"Did you mean what you said?" Jaemin breathed, walking into your personal bubble. He was way too close. His breath tickled your forehead, eyes dark with something you couldn't decipher.
He felt his heart pound against his chest, resisting the urge to pick the stray hair in your eye to the side. You were looking at him with a confused expression, nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to be the death of him. Devastated, he broke eye contact, feeling all forms of fight seep from his bones.
"You don't like me." You whispered, wincing at the wobble in your voice. "Everyone's just saying that....right?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"No. I want you to say no."
"I can't do that."
"Well, you have to say no. I don't want to hear the rest of your sentence — keep us as just this." You softly yelled, pointing between the pair of you. "Don't change anything."
"Okay. I'll leave, but only because you want me to. But, before I go..you've gotta start being more observant." He sighed, ruffling your hair before making his way out.
"I’m plenty observant. Wouldn’t be a good player if I wasn’t.”
"I’ll see it when I believe it. Oh, and the thing you said about pigs flying..”
“What about it?”
“Renjun’s working on it.”
You laughed heartily, locking the door behind you. So, Jaemin did in fact think of you as his Aphrodite — all those nicknames were genuinely created out of affections. 'Mon bébé chérie' held a lot more emotional weight than it did twenty minutes ago, and you had to breathe before your eyes prickled with saltine tears.
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Fresh air hit you like a loaded delivery truck, Mother Nature delicately wiping the tears from your eyes, shaking you with a cold flourish, roaring your cheeks to life. The team had already started their warm-up drills, as opposed to the boys' football team who were cooling down from their jog.
You ran over, tightening your ponytail, shifting into 'Captain' mode. The coach pushed you into the circle, encouraging you to take the reins. "Team, we've been doing nothing but straight work. Let's make this session count before the match tomorrow." You shouted, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline.
The team chanted back, settling into their positions for the first drill — a penalty shoot out. You stepped to the ball, striding back to gain a better angle, socks hugging your knees.
Giving yourself a five second countdown, you charged at the ball, foot pointed, kicking it with a passion that rivalled Lionel Messi. It rolled in the back of the net, flying past Hyejoo, who could barely even process it.
"Still got those fire feet, I see, Cap'n!"
"Lady Luck gave them to me for a reason." You boasted, smugness slapped all over your face.
From the corner of your eye, Jaemin snickered, winking at you when you turned to make eye contact. At least he had the audacity to keep up appearances in front of everyone, even if you had probably made everything awkward.
"My granny could kick better than that, babes!" He boomed from across the pitch, teasing smirk on his lips.
"Your granny lives in a retirement home and still calls on you 'Nana Banana'..it's not very nice to lie." You retorted, eyes narrowed, nearing his hunched form.
"Doesn't mean she can't kick your ass. Granny was a little Aguero back in the day."
"She can't if I'm the Manè, can she?"
"But I'm a Modric. I'll beat your ass, any day, any time." He grinned, leaning in to you. "In any way you want."
You heard blood pumping in your ears, your cheeks filling with immense heat. He grabbed your cheeks softly, grinning even wider when you flushed even warmer, a human sauna. Pushing a lock out of your eyes, he searched your eyes for any sense of rage, face softening at your lack of that emotion.
"Any..way..I want?" You mouthed silently, innuendo catching your attention again as you mulled over the words. "Na Jaemin, you're a dirty boy."
"I think you're the dirty girl." He hummed, saying the next sentence in an octave that made your head spin, quietly enough that only the two of you could hear. "Sauntering around in your little Victoria's Secret bra, cozying up to me without even batting an eyelash or covering up."
"These boobs are mine. I'm allowed to show them to anyone I want."
"So you admit to showing them to me? You admit that you were trying to put on a show for me?" He pressed, purposely craning his neck over you.
"I was trying to change. If you didn't come into the room like a little pervert, you'd never have gotten a visual of these."
"And yet I know how they look now. There's nothing that can erase that image."
"Fuck you, Na Jaemin."
"I think you meant to say fuck me, but I'll allow the slip-up just because I'm so nice." You squirmed under his predatory gaze, heat in your cheeks akin to a fever. "Better get back to training, Cap. Your team's got a match tomorrow."
You hissed at him weakly, choosing to walk away from his provocation, going back to the team, who were all smiling at you with a glint in their eye. By the looks on their faces, they'd definitely taken that exchange as a form of flirting.
Not that you were disputing it, of course.
The coach rounded the girls up, calling them to grab bibs. You relaxed, running over to take the last bib once you'd calmed down. Na Jaemin was a little toe-sucking, filthy mongrel who only knew how to charm his way out of everything — totally not your ideal type or anything.
His penance for being blunt coupled with that honeyed voice was what was throwing you off. Not your physical attraction to him. At least, you hoped so.
The shrill shriek of the whistle behind you shook you out of your mind, bringing your attention back to the practice game. With every shot at the goal, you could see Jaemin taunting you, making kissy faces.
After the first half, you weren't sure if it was real or if you were hallucinating — almost like a mirage, he was wearing that stupid little smirk and there was nothing more you wanted than to slap those lips clean off his face.
Soon enough, you clocked that it wasn't just an illusion, as he'd shifted to the opposite end of the pitch, the other boys from the football team watching from the stands.
They'd started jeering at every pass, exaggerating their reactions, commentary toeing the border of sexual harassment. You volleyed the ball on your foot, battering it into the stands, grinning widely as it hit one of the boys in the face, leaving his nose lopsided.
"If you're gonna be a sexist piece of shit, just fuck off. My team doesn't deserve to hear your brain-dead commentary, nor see your fuck face." You smiled, bite in your voice. "Kindly take the opinion that nobody asked for and shove it up your ass."
Jaemin's eyes twinkled with respect, breath caught in his throat at the dark look in your eyes. He felt his chest warm in adoration, heart doubling in size. "You heard the lady."
"Includes you too, Jaemin. Better get home before Granny Na starts missing her little boy."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Fuck off." You said playfully, recovering the ball. He waved you bye, lugging his bag over his shoulder, fixing the collar of his jersey. A beam touched your lips, face lighting up.
Jaemin smirked back at you, taking his leave. He dragged the remnants away with him, leaving the girl's football team alone in the cooling dwindle of Autumn light.
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"Nice shorts." A tug.
"Oh? Na Jaemin complimenting me?" You mused in surprise, arms folded across your chest.
"You didn't let me finish." Jaemin whispered, standing on the sidelines of the pitch, pulling at the hem of your shorts. "Ooh, I can see your stubble. Better bring out the razor."
Your jaw tightened, feeling that rush of annoyance fill your veins again. The nerve.
"More stubble than you'll ever grow on that chin."
"At least I'm not a human Sasquatch."
"I've got hair in the right places—" You started, catching the innuendo, glaring at Jaemin's raised eyebrows. "—I know what I meant. Don't be such a dirty boy."
"Say it again. Love the way it rolls off your tongue."
You gaped at him, whole body blowing a fuse, skin reddening at his tone. Sweltering heat danced atop each fingertip, each muscle, making you jolt. His gaze was still glued to your face, relishing the quickly dilating pupils in your eyes.
"I—"
"—Would rather have you speechless after our first time, not for your championship final. When you win, I'll buy you fucking adorable ice cream with the little star sprinkles that you like."
"Going to ignore you on that first statement, but the second one sounds like a motive."
"Win the match, and I'll ask you out. Properly."
You saw his eyes flash with something passionate, flakes of gooey molasses swirling behind the irises. Before you opened your mouth to reply to him, he pleaded silently for you to just take it as it was. "Gimme a chance. Who knows you better than your enemy? Nobody."
"I mean..."
"Only you know that my grandma calls me those corny names or that I see her all the time."
"Or that you lose every game that's not football because you're too lazy to pay attention." You added.
"And I know that you broke a guy's jaw because he was bothering Yangyang." He continued. "And I also know that you know one thing I've never told anyone."
"Ooh, what's that?"
"That I like you."
You looked away from him sheepishly, goosebumps popping up on your skin, and whether it was from the cold or from his words, you didn't know. He was looking down at you tenderly, ruffling your bed of hair, pressing a small, wet kiss to your forehead as the whistle blew.
"Don't play with fire, Na."
"You're more like a carpet burn."
You sighed, defeated. "Fine. I'll give you an answer when we win. If you're playing me, I'll break your arms."
"Okay. Go get 'em, Lady Luck." He smiled, waving you off as you scurried onto the pitch, face glowing under the fluorescent lights. Jaemin felt his chest tighten with pride, jaw aching from all the strenuous smiling.
With that absurdly contented face, you reminded him of a cross between a kid at a carnival and a man about to kill another. Your hair gathered wildly atop your head, a wicked glare painting your face.
This was you at peace, he deduced. Even with the gruesome of expressions, you looked calm. The pitch was truly your home away from home.
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Two minutes into the second half saw you being carried off on a stretcher with a torn hamstring. You'd fallen to the grass, no sounds coming from your limp body. Jaemin swore he felt his heart plunge into his ass, and with a frantic flourish, he was coddling your head into his chest.
"Luck, don't die on me. I'm supposed to take you out for ice cream after this, and I stole Renjun's Baskin Robbins loyalty card to cut costs so if we don't go, I'll be getting beat up without having kissed your stupid face." He babbled, slapping your cheeks, scared that you'd genuinely lost your life.
You groaned, rolling slowly in the elastic. "Stop touching my face, I'll get acne." Mildly concussed, you soothed your throbbing headache, registering Jaemin's face looming over you. "Jaemin?"
"Oh, thank God. Thought I'd never see that unruly sparkle in your eyes again."
"Fuck off. My hamstring feels like a fried chicken mukbang and you're talking about my eyes."
"I can't cry before our first date. You'll think I'm a wimp."
"Already think that."
He hit your arm lightly, beaming at your focus on his face, meeting your eyes. You were glaring at him with a kissable pout on your lips, eyebrows furrowed — he wanted to pepper your face in balmy kisses.
The paramedic pushed him away, leading you to the ambulance. You flipped him off, yelling loudly as they wheeled you in, "Make sure you win! Won't forgive you if you don't."
The girl's football team had gathered around the door, all tight-lipped smiles and crumpled faces. They visibly brightened at your declaration, huddling together to recalibrate — the ref blew her whistle to call them back, summoning them back into position.
Yangyang and Donghyuck left the stands, rushing into the ambulance alongside you, closing the door behind them. Jaemin could faintly hear your loud curses, and sighed in relief, knowing that you'd be fine.
With two goals up, the team were at optimum working speed, playing loyally for your honour. Jaemin stood at the sidelines, holding your jacket in his hands as he recorded the match on his phone, wanting to send it to you later.
At 90 minutes, the girl's team had become the winner of the Division One Seoul Inter-district championship, and Jaemin was content. Not because it meant you'd go on that date with him, but because he could feel how much it meant to them.
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Everyone around him was cheering madly, chanting and spraying assorted drinks in each other's faces, an infectious joy lingering in his veins. Amongst all the commotion, he'd somehow been pushed into the middle of the team, feeling their gazes boring into his frame.
"You like Cap'n, right?" The brunette said, eyes bright.
"No. I don't like her. She's my rival." Jaemin lied pathetically, trying to escape their judgement.
"Why were you in the locker room then?"
"Damn. How do you know that?"
"Cap'n is horrible at lying, so she's always upfront. She also cannot do an impression so she never attempts it."
"Wow, you guys sure know your stuff. Bet she's glad to have a team like you. I know I'm feeling a little jealous."
"Cut the smooth talk. If you like Cap'n, just be straightforward. She's more innocent than she seems, and can get her heart broken easily."
"Got it." He nodded, "Well...ladies, I have to thank you for the advice."
"No problem, but if you break her heart.." They chorused, "We'll break that pretty little nose." Fifteen studded feet swung at his face, narrowly skimming the bridge of his nose.
He flinched, caught off guard, grin bared. "Now, I definitely got that message. I'll be going to check up on her, what do you want me to say?"
"We've already called her and shown her the trophy, so we have nothing left to say, you, however...take all the time you need."
"Since I have your blessing, am I allowed to—"
"Don't finish that sentence. Keep in your lane."
Jaemin promptly closed his mouth, and bid them a goodbye, dashing into his car towards the hospital, stopping at Baskin Robbins to buy the ice cream he promised. He hoped you’d at least be able to eat the sprinkles (the ones you liked were expensive, and if you didn’t eat them, he’d just wasted an extra 2,500 won.)
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In the hospital, you were now dressed in a medical gown, surrounded by the two idiots. It smelt like an experiment lab, and the spotless shades of ivory splashed on the walls made you feel a tad bit overwhelmed.
Your leg had already undergone the MRSI scan, and the nurses had told you that you’d definitely tore your hamstring, but surgery would fix it right up along with natural healing.
Of course, all those details lacked in comparison to your team finally winning the trophy you’d worked so hard towards — that excitement numbed the pain considerably.
“We thought you’d somehow died.” Yangyang confessed, grasping your hands in his clammy ones.
“You did.” Donghyuck sneered, pointing at him, continuing when he saw your face change in confusion. “Yang was convinced that you were invincible like Superman or something. He started blubbering about how you could definitely defeat the grim reaper in close contact and that should be enough to steal back your soul or whatever—”
“I’m just never going to ask questions again.”
“Jaemin was on the verge of a breakdown when he saw you fall. Never have I ever seen him run so fast towards a girl.” Donghyuck said, hand on chin in mock thought.
You blushed, remembering your promise about the ice cream and falling back into the bed in distress.
“What’s going on with you? I saw you two all friendly at the sidelines.” Yangyang murmured, eyes squinting in judgement. “Don’t tell me...you guys fucked before the game?”
Suddenly it was too hot in the room. You fanned yourself to cool down, slapping your own cheeks before pulling Yangyang’s ears. “Yeah, because I have the guts to just have my first time in a school setting.” You deadpanned.
“Naughty girl.” Both boys swooned, unable to note your sarcasm.
“Just because my leg is gone doesn’t mean I can’t harm you anymore. I’ll break your kneecaps.”
In the midst of your fight with your best friends, you spotted Jaemin opening the door, wearing that greasy smirk that made butterflies tickle your throat.
“I see a broken leg isn’t enough to stop you, is it?” Jaemin drawled from the door, hands behind his back. “Still threatening people?”
“It’s not threatening if they deserve it.” You mumbled, suddenly shy. Jaemin maintained his distance from you, arm outstretched, ice cream tub in hand. He was looking away from you, faint blush tinting his cheeks, lips squeezed in a puffy ‘o’.
“Not that I remembered or anything, but you did say something about liking these sprinkles.” He said, eyes darting around to focus on anything but you.
“I do...like these sprinkles..how did you know?”
“Everyone calls you star, and you’re cute. It’s your personality in an edible sugar shape.”
You rolled your eyes at his words, forgetting both Donghyuck and Yangyang were seated in the room. It felt like the two of you were just stuck in your own world, glaring at each other like a pair of lovers.
Unfortunately, that moment was cut short by your ungracious best friends, cooing annoyingly. They were squealing like little girls, incomprehensible screams of ‘our girl’s grown up!’ scraping your eardrums.
“Leave me alone!” You whined, face scrunched in discomfort, making futile attempts to push them away. “Jaemin...please get these two off me.”
“Asking your boyfriend to get rid of us? Already?” Yangyang hollered, one of Jaemin’s arms stopping him from jumping on you again.
“He’s not my boyfriend. As of now, he’s the only sensible one who isn’t mauling the girl with a broken leg, and that’s why I’m asking him for help.”
“Should I throw them out?”
“Yes —actually, do whatever. Let them go terrorise someone that isn’t me.”
“Your wish is my command.”
On that, Jaemin escorted both boys outside, shutting the door on them, cutting off the beginning to their long-winded rant with a smile. That left the two of you alone.
Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t stifling but rather a conversation of the mind — you were able to see what he wanted to say by looking into those mocha coloured eyes. You threw the ice cream tub in the bin, reaching for Jaemin’s hands shyly.
He’d sat down beside you on the bed, just staring at you like you were an abstract painting, a mosaic of a splendid array, unable to take his eyes off you. He took your hand warmly, running his fingers over your calloused knuckles, sharing his heat with you.
“Jaemin.” You yawned, head falling onto his shoulder. “I’m saying yes to your date. If I didn’t get injured, you could’ve taken me out today, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry. Being with you is enough for me, even if I do want to comment on your horrible tackles during the match.” Jaemin teased, grabbing your hand a little tighter.
“Haha...I’m dying of laughter.”
“Hey! None of that here.”
“Sorry. I’m just happy. My team won our first championship, which we’ve been trying to do for three years, and I feel on top of the world. All those years of boys being absolute dickheads to us about our abilities, trying to put us down have amounted to this moment. I’m at peace right now.”
“Don’t apologise. I should be sorry instead. It was easier to talk to you if I pretended I hated you. I shouldn’t have been like that.”
“I accept your apology. But..I think it was cute you couldn’t tell me you liked me! That’s so endearing.”
“Fuck off.”
“That’s my line! Well, you were always attractive to me, even when you were being a dickhead. Now that I think about it, you’re at your hottest when you’re being mean.”
“Is that so?” Jaemin mused, rolling onto his hands, dangling over you, lips eerily close to your own. “Do you want me to treat you mean, keep you keen?”
“Firstly, don’t ever say that again.” You stopped him, hand placed on his chest to push him away lightly. “Secondly, I’ve never had a boyfriend or my first kiss. That means no experience.” You slurred that last part, rushing the words so he wouldn’t be able to hear.
“Cap’n, you’re telling me that I’ll be your first?”
“Not if you don’t ask me out.”
Jaemin sat back beside you, looking up to the ceiling. This was the moment. He took a deep breath, standing up before you, hands rubbing his stomach softly to calm down.
“I wanted to do a real dramatic confession, but I rushed over here in fear that you wouldn’t be able to hit me again, so I’ll have to stick with my speech.” He cheesed, trying to ease himself of his nerves. You laughed, hissing in mock anger when he wore that stupid grin. “I like you. Like a lot. Sometimes, I come to school with a dirty scowl on my face, but then I see your face and start smiling like a love struck fool. You’re someone that I wouldn’t want to lose.”
“Jaemin, you little mongrel. Come here.” You waved him over, arms outstretched in a hug. “Even though I know your ego won’t let you ask me out properly, I would love to be your girlfriend. However, if my heart is broken..I’ll be stoning your car.”
“Thought you were gonna say that you’d break my face.”
“That too.”
He snuggled closer into you, peering up at you with shining eyes, not wanting to move too much to keep you comfortable. You grinned back at him, placing a soft kiss on his head, running a hand through his hair.
That familiar silence returned, and that’s how you fell asleep with Na Jaemin enveloped in your chest. Although you’d broken a leg, Lady Luck seemed to have twiddled her fingers to send you a ‘get well soon’ present, the ever cunning Na Jaemin.
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Five months later had you no longer hobbling around on crutches like a hobbit, but walking proud and tall. Jaemin drove you to school (using the excuse of carpooling) and helped you take your books to first period everyday — the alpha male in him winced seeing you attempt any ‘heavy lifting’, and he’d made it a routine.
“Can you fuck off? I can carry this.” You complained, pinching his side. “Just because I see a physio biweekly doesn’t mean I’m about as able-bodied as a monkey.”
“Got the hair to be a monkey.” He snorted.
“Look who’s talking, Mr.Sasquatch. Bigger feet than his prints, you little scoundrel.”
“Big feet means big—”
“Don’t finish that if you wanna keep the body part in question.”
“—heart. Dirty girl.”
You felt the honey pooling in your stomach, kissing his cheek in haste to escape his relentless teasing. He shut up at that, pulling you back to kiss you properly, attracting the attention of everyone in the hallway.
“Get to class.” He announced as he parted from you, enjoying your petulant face. You hit him softly, flipping him off from behind you, blowing him a kiss.
Ah, Na Jaemin. You still hated him. Just a little less this time.
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dastardlydandelion · 3 years ago
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Max Mayfield and Tory Nichols in a horror film, what would be the plot/monster and would they survive?
this is it. this is the tumblr ask. the ask i've been waiting for my whole life. my time to shine, here we go!
filming begins under the cut:
tried and true creature feature, this is a werewolf movie. let's go with a werewolf between the van helsing (2004) and trick r treat (2007) variety. the beast once transformed is fucking huge, clearly both lupine and human, head almost entirely wolf, body primarily bipedal in shape, but robust, sinew shredding claws and big ass bone tearing teeth. also tails!! bc tails are cute!!! powers include monstrous strength, accelerated speed, healing factor. weaknesses silver and decapitation.
okay, so van helsing (2004) werewolves are mindless rage monsters and trick r treat (2007) werewolves are cognizant. for our max & tory creature feature, they're gonna of the in between variety. i chose a werewolf movie for these two specifically bc they both have their anger problems and the werewolf has long been a symbol of anger unleashed in the horror genre, even tho common gray wolves are just like. i mean, yk, animals, they hunt and howl and pee on trees and most of the time would rather avoid humans. but obvi horror genre werewolves are not common gray wolves, they need to be scary, and like, the remnants of traditional folklore influenced by rabies and discourse in the middle ages...wait, where was i going with this? anger, yes, max and tory both have anger problems and i think this works for what i'm gonna do with this theoretical movie.
who's the werewolf in town? terry fucking silver. bc terry is evil and dramatic and also, i think it's rly funny for a werewolf to have silver as a surname. he's fully cognizant in his transformation and he's purposefully biting kids and teenagers bc he wants more talented karate students. and like. yk, with the enhanced strength, speed, and regenerative recovery of lycanthropy, well. there u have it, more talented karate students.
do max and tory know each other, if so, how? okay, so in this 'verse tory is a lil older than max. that reflects their canon ages, i think. let's say max is 13 and tory is 16. billy has tory in some of his classes and he more or less makes a deal to spilt his allowance with her if she'll babysit max bc he's tired of neil riding his ass to babysit max. tory needs money so she's like, 'sure, why not.' max finds it rly stupid that she's 13 and neil thinks she needs a fucking babysitter but as far as babysitters go, tory is fun. she likes to show max what she's learning in cobra kai and they spar together a lot. max would actually like to join cobra kai but 1) neil would throw a fit on various fronts and 2) lucas is in miyagi-do. max knows there's some rly intense beef between cobra kai and miyagi-do. ofc tory's filled her in on the karate war, how could she not?
well one day tory takes max to the playground to watch a plane fly like she does with miggy in ck, and it's nighttime, ofc, and lo, the full moon is out. shining up in the sky. they hear a howl. they both look at each other. max is kinda curious but tory's like nah, nah, we gotta go. she grabs her, starts pulling her along. but the next howl is a lot closer and they can hear smth running and it just sounds fuckin big. they're running too now, legs pumping hard, but there's no escape once the beast is right behind them, hot, rancid breath blasting the backs of their necks and harvest gold eyes glowing in the dark.
max gets bitten first. tory tries to kick the big ass beast off of her and then it rounds and bites her too. the terror is real now. and then shockingly, as fast as it'd come, it leaves. neither girl has an explanation for wtaf just happened but tory takes max home. billy gripes at her for being out late but helps her patch up. when susan learns what happens she decides to take max to get rabies shots right away. loads her up in the car, runs her off to the emergency room-- but when the bandages come off, they are no wounds.
tory's bby bro tries to help patch her up too. but he's like 4 yrs old and his idea of "help" is sticking bandaids with cartoon characters up and down the wounds in haphazard fashion. tory plans to redo it all properly once she's put him to bed. sure enough after he's asleep, and she peels the bandaids off from every open mouthed pac-man to every green teenage mutant ninja turtle, the wounds are gone.
meanwhile there's missing ppl err day on the news. terry turns kids and teens but kills adults for the lulz.
tory and max know what happened to them was an event that tangibly, definitely happened but neither have any explanation for their wounds just disappearing. max, our resident horror fan, is the first to propose a real life werewolf as an explanation. she cites the missing ppl on the news. tory thinks she's tripping balls but reluctantly gives an inch when she acknowledges no, she can't think of any other explanation.
life goes on. max tells lucas what happened only she leaves out the part abt tory bc she's not gonna tell a miyagi-do student she's kickin it w the enemy. he doesn't rly believe her, like how she didn't rly believe him about the upside-down in their canon. he thinks the horror movies are rotting her brain.
tory almost tells her dojo but she gets distracted being pissed off by sam and that should be her priority, right? sensei kreese is always going on abt getting back at the enemy. she spends her shifts daydreaming abt revenge bc it's more comforting than worrying abt past due bills and her mother looking paler by the day.
full moon next month comes around. neither tory nor max are cognizant of or during their first respective transformations. max's first kill is neil. she's seven feet of fur and fury, tears his ribcage open with claws like daggers and sinks her teeth into his putrid, maggoty heart. susan isn't home. billy is, but he doesn't hear any of the fracas. he's unconscious on the living room floor, crisscrossing impressions of neil's belt buckle blaring red on his back.
tory's first kill is sam. sam larusso wants to think she's a bully?? fine, tory will show her a bully. she hops the miyagi-do fence after hours. she just wants a fight. just a fight, they always fight. but then she's sprouting fur and tory as tory gives way to smth else. she'd not aware of being a person when she doesn't have fur. not really, all she knows is rage and ravenousness and the morsel below her has bunny rabbit wide eyes.
neither of them remember what they did the next day. not vividly, anyway. it's there but it's cloudy and hard to discern, like a groggy fever dream more than a memory. but max burps up neil's wedding band and tory finds señor octopus (sam's stuffed animal) bloodied in her bed. it's apparent what happened. max accepts this more easily than tory bc 1) she always kind of suspected she'd turn, since she sincerely considered what attacked them was a werewolf and 2) max isn't terribly upset abt killing neil while tory is acutely horrified she killed sam.
max kinda had some smidgen of attachment to neil bc like, he's the only father figure in her life and here and there they've had their moments. but his abuse (psychological/physical toward billy, sexual/financial/psychological/emotional toward susan, psychological/emotional toward herself) outweighed any and all of those moments. she is genuinely concerned that she tore a human being to pieces and only vaguely remembers it but like, if she had to kill anyone, she figures neil was the best to kill. max is mostly concerned bc she can't kill neil a second time. she's worried the next time she turns it could be an innocent person, or one of her friends, or her mom, or billy.
tory is blindsided and scarcely able to comprehend the reality, holy shit, max was right, she's a fuckin werewolf. and she's sick to her stomach bc she hated sam but she never wanted to do anything like that. she didn't want to kill, she just wanted to break her face. scare her. rough her up. she didn't want to eat her. she just killed someone. she's a literal horror movie monster and she just killed sam. what's miguel going to think?
tory and max talk. they decide they need to find the werewolf who turned them. we get montages of them going over the news articles with a fine-toothed *ba dum tss* comb and searching areas where it seems like a werewolf would be. the woods. some caves. max all of a sudden has a freakishly tall man constantly hounding her to join cobra kai. neil's gone but she still hesitates bc of lucas being in miyagi-do. also he believes max now and with the proff, she's decided to let the rest of the party in as well. they also exist in this 'verse. she showed them the crime scene and the wedding band she burped up. billy isn't a roid rage racist in this 'verse bc that would be a giant buzzkill. he doesn't believe the werewolf shit either. he thinks max saw neil get attacked by some animal and that the carnage was so traumatizing for her, she subconsciously created a werewolf fantasy to cope.
tory meanwhile spirals downward. bc she passes sam's memorialized locker in the hall everyday. her memorial table in the other hall, full of sticky note condolences and mournful teddy bears, and a picture of sam right in the center always, always accusing her. miggy is heartbroken and distraught. hawk didn't care for sam but even he's freaked out by what happened, how the news said there were only torn up chunks and bones picked clean found in her bedroom. tory is terrified of herself. she's desperate to find whoever did this bc she wants to make them pay. if sensei silver has been asking her extra questions lately and presenting her performance to the class more than normal, she doesn't notice at all. aisha notices tory's fucked up but tory can't exactly tell aisha that she *ate* sam. aisha is also mourning, she and sam used to be bffs. so she doesn't say a word.
max has a theory that if u can learn to control ur anger, u can learn to control urself when u shift. she is, after all, v familiar with angry horror movie werewolves. and she's savvy enough to know it's smth she and tory have in common. neil is dead but that doesn't mean max isn't angry anymore. she's still angry at the damage already done and tbh also angry that there's some werewolf around turning ppl willy nilly bc she recognizes the danger in that and it wasn't smth she consented to. but controlling ur anger is an easier feat for max than tory insofar that max has a support system w her friends, and better relationships with the remainder of her fam. tory has two mentors actively, adamantly teaching her and her friends to be ruthless, view the world as ur enemy, use violence as ur go-to solution, and that mercy is weakness not to be tolerated.
when the next full moon rolls around, they decide to spend it together under the correct inference that they will transform. they think it's better to be together. they're hoping they'll be able to control each other, if not themselves. or that if they are both mindless rage monsters again, that rage will be turned on each other. this would be a better outcome operating on the presumption that one werewolf will be able to take what another can dish out, at the v least more so than a regular human being.
max is successfully able to maintain enough of her consciousness to control her actions once transformed. she feels aggressive and hungry, but not enraged and ravenous. she can keep it in check. tory, on the other hand, uh...tory can't do it. she throws her wolf head back in the most bloodcurdling howl ever and takes off like a bat outta hell. max goes loping after her. they can't speak like human speak in this form, but max tries to communicate with her. whimpers plaintively. tackles tory at one point, not out of anger but just tryna subdue her, licks at her ears and tries to get her to settle. tory bucks her off.
tory runs off again, max in pursuit. they wind up at the skate park where billy n robby are prolly up to some fuckery or another. i could easily see pre miyagi-do robby n billy getting up to all kinds of mischief. ooh, actually, they're prolly arguing abt that. now that robby's in miyagi-do he has another outlet for all his energy and he's getting the positive attention he craves so he's not participating in hooligan activity or shenanigans w billy anymore and billy is like. offended. except suddenly there's werewolves. fucking. snarling, gigantic, toothy, hairy ass werewolves.
let's say robby kicked miguel down two stories in this 'verse too and tory recognizes him in her werewolf form even if she isn't exactly cognizant of herself. she tears straight for him, jaws open. billy doesn't exactly *mean* to protect him but it's kinda an automatic reaction from putting himself in between whenever he thought neil was getting too aggressive w susan or max. and like, sure, robby's the better fighter (not that billy would ever acknowledge this) but it's not like he's gonna karate kick the motherfuckin werewolf anyway-- billy is bigger, he's bigger and it's instinct and the next thing he knows, he's in between robby and the thing w sharp teeth (tory).
and that's when max gets serious. she bowls tory over, away from billy before she can bite. they're rolling, tearing at each other with teeth and claws. lo and behold, terry silver is lurking in the background like the evil mastermind he is, just watching them shred each other and evaluating his experiment. it's a p close match and tory is the more aggressive of the two but she's also been going, going, going since she shifted and she's burning herself out. she's also fighting with the blind instinct of a threatened animal while max maintains more precision bc she has better control of herself. max also isn't wasting energy unnecessarily. max gets her jaws around tory's throat and tory just goes slack. but she can think and she doesn't want to hurt tory, so she opens her mouth and relaxes her maw, teeth grazing harmlessly thru tory's fur.
tory's being shown mercy. possibly for the first time. it's so unlike her conception of others' ruthlessness, so unlike the worldview that's been instilled into her that it startles her enough to crack thru to her cognizance. she does the wolfy deference thing where they tuck their tails and lick at the dominant pack member's muzzle. max responds in kind and lets tory up.
this is when they notice terry lurking (billy's already worked out the werewolf that came to his defense is max so he's just dumbfounded watching all this shit, and robby's not abt to leave someone who just saved his ass, so he's stuck unsuccessfully tryna pull billy away and inevitably watching too). terry calmly slinks over, sizing up his charges. he's pleased with the performance. but tory and max are anything but, another werewolf fight ensues.
so while they all get huge after transforming sheerly on the basis of being werewolves, i'm gonna guess the size is proportionate to their human forms. so tory is a little larger than max and terry significantly outsizes them both. terry is also the more experienced werewolf. it's two against one but it's not the curbstop it would be if this was some weaksauce werewolf, it's dramatic evil karate werewolf terry fuckin silver. terry's shredding tf outta these two. their healing factor can't keep up, he's dishing out faster than either of them can recover and tbh they were already winded from fighting each other first.
but it'd be a major buzzkill if our movie had a downer ending. and also, the power of determination and friendship and shit. terry's got his jaws around max's throat now. he's a millisecond away from tearing it open. tory's pinned under him but she thinks fast, frees a hind leg, and rips her claws down his soft underbelly as deep as she can and doesn't stop ripping, like pedal kicking almost for a human, but with her hind claws. his intestines shoot out like paper snakes from a gag candy can!! okay, well, maybe they don't shoot out w that much gusto, but still. the bowels are free, the bowels are hanging low and tory's tearing 'em tf up, fluids n fecal matter errywhere. on tory. i'm sorry tory. ur under him, that's just how gravity works.
terry dies. healing factor can't keep up with the damage done, it's too critical. but nobody knows it's terry until the dawn breaks and he reverts back to his human shape.
max is v much 'i told u so,' in billy's face. robby promises not to tell. he doesn't want to get mauled or killed or anything. tory's able to cope better with what she did to sam knowing that it won't happen again, that she won't hurt anyone else she doesn't want to be she can control herself now. tory believes in mercy now bc max spared her, she trashes kreese's philosophy and joins eagle fang when johnny and daniel join forces in this 'verse too. max also joins eagle fang, takes her place in the front row right between tory and lucas at her v first practice.
credits roll.
after the credits we see tory considering turning her mother in the hopes that having the healing factor would help her mom's condition improve.
is that a teaser for the sequel?
idfk.
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zerohawks · 4 years ago
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sugawara & 7 with suga saying it's just a chocolate bar kithes
MELTED CHOCOLATE.
featuring: koshi sugawara
prompt: 7
a/n: i know this was requested a week ago but i finished writing this weirdly fast. anyways i love suga and that boy deserves the world. this is in third person because i’m trying out different styles, we will see what i like better 😔
go back to masterlist
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Y/n was beyond pissed. She was seconds from being late to her class because of a stupid holiday to shove that she had been single her whole life. It’s not like she necessarily wants a boyfriend. It’s just that every year on the wretched date, February 14th, her mood always seems to plummet for god knows why. Maybe it’s just seeing everyone with their friends giggling about some stupid box of chocolates a guy gave them, who frankly couldn’t care less, they just had an extra box. 
Not only that, but people who were already in relationships flaunted their happiness in front of the whole school. Granted that couple would break up in a week, but it didn’t make it any better.
Y/n forgets the last time she was given anything for Valentine’s day. It was most likely elementary school when everyone had to give every kid in the class something so no one felt excluded. Well, in high school no one gave two craps if you felt excluded. Y/n had become accustomed to going to the Sakanoshita Market and buying herself a bar of chocolate. So the only upside was that she had an excuse to get chocolate. But knowing her luck, the chocolates already melted by the time she opened them. 
So here she was, the last period of the day. Dozing off at a boring lecture her teacher was so persistent about. Something about study methods or something, Y/n wasn’t listening. She just stared at the peach-pink eraser at the rear of her pencil. It was rounded and a little too smooth. Usually, Y/n wouldn’t fascinate over small things, but at her deepest point of boredom, she couldn’t help herself.
A small tap was placed on her shoulder, breaking her out of her trance. Y/n looked up from her eraser and turned around just to be met with the hazel orbs that undoubtedly belonged to Koshi Sugawara. 
Now Y/n would be lying if she said that she didn’t stare into his eyes when she was bored. But could you blame her? They were intoxicating, far more addicting than the melted chocolate bars she bought every year. 
“I dropped my pencil next to your desk, do you mind picking it up?” he asked sweetly. God, Y/n needed to stop looking into his eyes or she might look like she’s staring.
“Oh yeah,” Y/n managed to say in the most nonchalant voice she could muster.
She quickly reached to the side and picked up the sharp-pointed pencil and put it on the very side of his desk. She swears that she heard him whisper “thanks”, but she was too busy thanking herself for not falling into the romance novel trap by making contact with his hand. God knows what would happen if she did. But again, Y/n doesn’t have any particular interest in Koshi Sugawara. She’s just infatuated with his eyes.
She hangs onto her own pencil now noticing the many small scratch marks it had from the number of times she used to rub it against her desk at home. It was a strange habit she used to possess but she’s quite glad it’s gone. 
The class goes on for the longest twenty minutes of her life. At some point, Y/n felt a stare fall on her back but chose to ignore it and focus in class, a truly rare occurrence. The blaring bell that Y/n despised yet loved with her whole heart rang loudly causing the teacher to pause mid-sentence and dismiss the class. She headed right outside the door that was conveniently near the class she just finished. From the corner of her eye, she saw all her classmates exit the room, faces very much comedic. Most looked some form of exhausted. Y/n supposes Valentine's Day hype dies after a certain amount of time. 
Y/n couldn’t help but notice the way Sugawara stopped outside the door, his books tucked under his left arm, looking both ways almost as if he were crossing the street. His head turned towards the direction where she stood and they made unfortunate eye contact. Y/n’s head speeded to face her locker, face bashfully red as she stuffed her belongings into her school bag. 
“L/n!” she heard a light voice call. 
She hesitantly turned around to see Sugawara pushing past a few students to get to her.
“Sugawara,” Y/n said awkwardly. 
“I didn’t have any other time to give it to you, so I figured I would give it to you now—if that’s okay with you—” mumbled Sugawara. 
“Didn’t give me what?” inquired Y/n, she was so utterly confused. Her brows furrowed and couldn’t recall anything he owed her. 
“Oh—uh–this,” said Sugawara, presenting a chocolate bar in front of her, “I know it isn’t much but—”
Y/n just stared at the bar, and then at Sugawara, and then at the bar. A happy smile crept onto her face as she took the candy bar from his hands. Their hands brushed for a millisecond but Y/n felt it and the feeling would be embedded in her mind. To say Sugawara wasn’t just a tad bit confused about the reaction he received would be an understatement. 
“Calm down, it’s just a candy bar,” Sugawara playfully laughed.
Y/n chuckled, “Yeah, thanks.”
“No problem,” he smiled lightly, “Happy Valentines Day.”
“Happy Valentines Koshi,” Y/n beamed as she put the chocolate she would savor when she got home in her bag.
She got her bag out of her locker and slung it over her shoulders, turned around, and waved goodbye to the silver-haired boy with intoxicating hazel eyes. She strolled home, skipping the convenience store she usually goes to, to get chocolate. She had chocolate already in her bag, which was far more important than the annual melted chocolate she usually found herself settling for. Maybe Valentine’s day isn’t all that bad, or maybe it’s just luck because Y/n was ecstatic.
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nostalgic-pancakes · 4 years ago
Text
Room 73- Chapter 1/8
There is a being that lives in the chemistry building of Haley-Dove Secondary. It has been there longer than anyone’s living memory, and nobody questions it anymore.
Pairing/s: (Eventual) Romantic Prinxiety, Loceit and Pintroverts/Karrot Kings, Queerplatonic Intruality and platonic DLAMRT(N) with mentioned background Kailliot. Romantic (married!) Remile and mentioned Sanders Shorts characters.
Read on AO3!
Word count: 2950
Warnings: Mentioned bullying, allusions to the foster system, perhaps minor disassociation? Paranormal elements.
Other notes: So many thanks to my Beta (!!!) Juicyboxers for looking through this fic for me- and teaching me so much stuff about dialogue!! So if you notice that the dialogue here is better than the dialogue on my other stuff, than thank him!
Anyways, without further ado... (tinny drumroll)
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There is a being that lives in the chemistry building of Haley-Dove Secondary. It has been there longer than anyone’s living memory, and nobody questions it anymore.
It’s a strange one, a space completely fuzzed out by something resembling static, but if that static could exist, could take up space, be real in a way static really can’t be.
The being lives on the third desk to the right, second from top, room 73. It seems to be on friendly terms with the thing that sometimes screams in the courtyard and the witch who lives in the woods surrounding the town. It doesn’t seem to like the slamming locker much, but it doesn’t hurt anyone, so nobody cares.
It lingers, at that desk, watching boys and girls and everyone in between study the sciences as the years go on, seeing the building as a boy’s school, then a bomb shelter, then a public school classroom, watching. Nobody knows what the being is, really, but it’s there, so nobody will say anything.
Across the country, three people grieve quietly.
”BEEP, BEEP, BEEP”
“Shu-Shuddup, Pat...” Groaning slightly, Janus lifts his covers from his head, just a little, to flip the bird at his brother, who clearly understood the concept of ‘don’t wake someone up before sunrise’. “...lemme sleep.”
Pat doesn’t seem to realize this, clearly and he continues making obnoxious beeping noises at him. Stupid Pat and his relentless cheer never letting Janus brood enough to fit the aesthetic.
“Alright Pat, let’s get up then. Besides, this has to be better than middle school.” Janus feels bad almost immediately for bringing that up because Patton’s eyes cloud over some, before clearing themselves up and his brother smiles again, a little wider, beckoning Janus out of bed.
“Pat, could you pass me my cape?” asks Janus, holding out his hand expectantly. He’s moderately surprised when there’s nothing there after a few seconds. He glances over, and his brother’s looking at him a bit cheekily.
“Aww Janny, couldn’t you possibly go without it for our first day? You wear it all the time!” Patton replies, picking up the cape and throwing it to him, Janus catching from below. It’s routine.
“No, and you know it. Now, slacks or skirt?” asks Janus, sifting through the small clothes pile Patton kept out for the week
“Skirt, please! The one with the suspenders?” “You have no taste”
“Says the guy wearing the cape, Jan.” when Patton takes the skirt, it brushes against the wall first, promptly setting off a chorus of whispering flowers gossiping. Jamus is really, really lucky that Patton hasn’t realised that that’s a viable way to wake him up.
Deeming themselves acceptable, they both go downstairs, with Patton skipping down the steps more than anything, and Janus trying to avoid the cracks on the eighth, sixth, and second steps. The shadow in the creaks always snarled at him if he stepped on a crack, and it was, frankly, annoying.
Emile and Remy were already in the kitchen, Emile making (slightly charring) breakfast and Remy brewing coffee while simultaneously downing his fifth cup of the stuff, shifting from foot to foot to some mid-2000’s pop playing from Emile’s phone.
“Hey there, small fries! It’s eggs and toast for breakfast, so gobble up before you go- breakfast is the most important meal of the day!” Exclaims Emile, as soon as he catches sight of Patton’s yellow skirt in the stairwell. Remy looks up from the coffee pot, acknowledges Both Janus and Patton’s existence, then nods and brings out two more mugs, one yellow and black and one yellow and pink onto the kitchen island, next to the Steven Universe and ‘I’ll sleep when I’m Dead’ cups respectively.
“Hi, Emile! I’m so excited for today- do you think Jan and I could make some friends today?” asks Patton, still smiling as he elbows Janus for the latter part of that sentence. Janus turns around, knocks the perpetrator’s elbow, and grins, sitting down to accept his burnt eggs and coffee while Patton gets his burnt eggs and sugar concoction. Remy takes up the seat on Patton’s other side, grunting as he downs his sixth cup of coffee and Emile swoops into his husband's space, plucking the empty cup from Remy’s hands and not letting him get a refill. Remy grumbles a bit, but there’s no real malice- this is routine, always has been, as long as there have been witch-hazel plants growing along the house and as long as Remy and Emile have known each other.
Emile plops down with his breakfast and his coffee mug- always too much milk- and turns to face Patton, straightening his sweater vest, beaming in a way that fools a lot of strangers into thinking that Patton’s actually biologically related to him.
“I think you two can, Kiddo! With the right people, you and Jan could set the world on fire!” he cheers, and even though the smile’s a bit smaller around the end, the statement is sincere.
“Hey, arson is fun.” quips Janus, and Emile gasps, but clearly is holding back a grin, while Remy is straight-up (nah) cackling, as Patton chokes a bit on his eggs at the deadpan delivery. Janus doesn’t make an expression, just puts another bite of eggs in his mouth, scraping the edge of the plate with his fork. He cringes at the sound some, but it’s over in a second, thankfully.
It’s only about ten minutes later that he and Patton are at the doorway, book-bags packed and ready to go, with Remy and Emile waving, does Janus finally realize that yeah, High School is starting, and he’s terrified. A year without Patton at his side constantly is crazy- they only have two common classes, and that means this year will have the longest amount of time they’ve ever been away from each other since meeting every day. Patton’s scared too, Janus can tell, because the hand that he’s using to play-guide Janus around (“Because you’re a SLOWPOKE!”) grips tighter and tighter every metre closer to the bus that the two of them get, till it’s nearly bruising, the same colour of the whispering flowers down by the creek.
But they make it to the bus in time, and it’s good that Patton and Janus are holding onto each other so tightly, because of the swarm of kids piling in. Without that grip, they might not have been able to snag an empty seat to sit in together, right across a kid their age, sitting with his back ramrod-straight, wearing glasses and… going through this year’s textbooks? Nerd. But hey, Janus likes dissecting Shakespeare, so what can he say?
The bus starts going, from dirt paths in the residential area to a better built road as they all get closer to the main town, with the offices and shops and buildings and well, the school. Everyone looks a little exhausted, and some even look a bit excited, but nobody here is really memorable except for textbook-kid. Midway through the ride, as the view of the woods on everyone’s right starts thinning out a little, the witch who lives there waves, and her daughter, who’s apparently on top of the seats, in the luggage shelf (because buying buses from airports makes total sense), hangs upside-down, grinning wildly with her tangerine-colored hair falling out first, as she waves to her mother, still wearing her gathering-dress. She vanishes again soon after, lugging herself back up, but that’s no matter. She seems happier there anyway.
As the sun starts to rise in earnest, a lot of the night plants growing along the bus poles start shrinking away, letting the morning glories take centre stage for a while as the bus pulls over into the schoolyard, with the kids who took their bikes here already in their classrooms or on their way there, it’s a bit of a frenzy.
Janus takes a look at Patton, whose nerves that had been kept at bay for the moment while taking the scenery coming back in full force, and tries to smile for him. His brother deserves that much. Patton relaxes, and gives Janus’s hand one last squeeze before getting off the bus, and immediately hunting for his homeroom. 9-D, Janus thinks. He’s in 9-C himself. He sighs and trudges forward, seeing the witch’s daughter and glasses-guy enter the same classroom and hoping this doesn’t end like middle school.
Logan and Virgil Varma are in no way looking forward to school. Never have, really. Brings too much back about being too ‘weird’, or ‘scary’.
“Pssh, other kids are scarier” mumbles Virgil darkly under his breath while putting his bike away. He notices Logan behind him, fresh off the bus, putting his biology textbook in his bag (more like stuffing it, but Virgil isn’t about to say anything)
“Virgil, I do not think that you should say things like that when ‘other kids’ can hear you, especially if I could hear you-” Logan’s cut off by Virgil, who smirks.
“Three feet away, I know, L. But you have one thing nobody else does-”
“Superhuman hearing!” They finish off together, knowing this routine by heart and then some. Logan giggles, and Virgil automatically feels better than before for making that happen. His smirk turns into a bit more genuine of a smile as they finish the walk into homeroom together, in the same room for once, thank fuck. Virgil really needs to thank his Mom for pulling that off. She really pulled some strings for Logan to have a better year this time ‘round.
9-C. That’s his and Logan’s homeroom. When Virgil looks inside, he sees a… decently eccentric class lineup. There aren't many high schoolers in this place, so there’s only about ten people here. Hildi, who he’d hung out with in middle school, who waved at him enthusiastically, fiery hair flying about. It’s infectious, so Virgil smiles a bit back and waves too, albeit a little less excitedly. Well, there’s one person Virgil knows.
There’s a person just behind her who’s dressed up like a nineteen-twenties mobster, with the yellow-black aesthetic and cloak. He has a giant scar along the left side of his face which looks a bit like snake scales, so Virgil’s going to dub him ‘Snek Boy’ for now. There’s two people next to him, too. One looks like the ‘Chad from the horror movie’ archetype incarnate, and is flicking spitballs at the other kid in front of him, who smiles and passes him a stim toy. That person’s most likely an introvert, with all the pins on his stuff. Well then hello, fellow pintrovert.
Virgil inhales, knowing that he’s about to run out of time to stay at the doorway without looking weird, and takes the seat just behind Logan. Back row, no sun from the window. Logan turns back to face him, and Virgil does his best to smile reassuringly. He’s… relatively sure it worked, because Logan smiles as well, adjusts his glasses and turns back to face the front of the class, where the teacher enters. They look decently severe, tall, and wearing a tweed coat over a sweater vest, in extreme contrast to his dark skin tone. He puts his files down, cleans his glasses and turns up to face the class.
“Hello. My name is Corbin Robinson, and I’m your homeroom teacher for this year. I use he/him pronouns!” the severe expression tapers off into a bit of a smile as he finishes off his sentence. “Now, could all of you come up here and introduce yourselves? Preferably with your preferred name, pronouns and one fact about yourself that pertains to your personality!” he takes out a notepad, and steps to the side. Chad walks up and clears his throat after about ten awkward seconds.
“Uh, hi! My name’s Brian. Brian Cornwall. I use he/him pronouns. This is my boyfriend’s jacket! We’re wearing each other’s jackets for good luck today!” Ch-Brian finishes. He’s blushing furiously by the end of his statement, but the entire room (Virgil included) is clapping for him anyways, so he ducks down a bit to go back in his seat. Professor Corbin’s looking at Virgil now, and what is he gonna say what if he’s dumb and says something wrong and--
Hildi hops up to the front of the room, and Professor Corbin’s attention is on her for the moment. Thank god. She winks at him, and he smiles weakly back.
“Hi! I’m Hildi, the witch’s girl and I use she/her pronouns! Fun fact about me… uh, I once got to find out who’s hand the disembodied hand in plaza belonged to- Some guy called Andy from the thirties.” Hildi finishes with her hands crossed on her heart, the typical greeting that her coven uses. Virgil nods and crosses his hands as well.
Professor Corbin’s eyes wander around the class, to find whoever hasn’t spoken yet, and they land on Virgil. Since Hildi’s gone up, the eyes stay there. Virgil takes a steadying breath, and fiddles with a loose string on his hoodie.
“H-hi, I’m Virgil. Virgil… Sanders.” Great he’s already fucking this up why did he do this--
Okay, breathe. In two three four, hold two three four, out two three four five six seven eight.
“I use he/him and they/them pronouns, but I don’t really mind whatever you do end up using for me, and uh… fun fact about me?”
“I’m a twin, and my twin’s the coolest person on this planet.” he finishes, and tries his best to smile over the nerves. He feels good, though, praising his brother. Logan smiles, properly now, even as he burrows himself into his shirt best he can. Virgil smiles back, and makes his way back, trying to get his breathing back under control. It works, and he’s breathing just fine by the time Logan walks up, shoulders set.
“Hello,” he waves. “My name is Logan Ejiah Sanders, I use he/him pronouns and am Virgil’s twin. A fun fact about me is that I only use blue coloured stationery.” Logan finishes, clipped as ever. He’s careful with what he shares these days, and using solely blue stationary is something that can just be summed up as a personality quirk, instead of something wrong, the kinds of wrong that made teachers sigh and avert their gaze or puff irritably or what made him cannon fodder to other kids.
Logan’s nervous, and Virgil wishes that he could’ve done something sooner.
The introductions slip by after that, Janus, he/him, vitiligo scar, Nico Flores, they/faer, aspiring writer, because Virgil’s too floaty to care. Hildi passes him a floating earbud, and he takes it.
Roman really doesn't know what to expect from high school. In the stuff he reads and watches, it's portrayed as this ecosystem with really strict rules. His family calls it the most idyllic time of their lives. College students call it hell. So yeah, Roman's confused.
Remus is in a different class entirely this year, which isn't weird, so he doesn't know why he thought that? Stupid brain.
Roman was already in a shitty mood, having had to skip out on seconds of bacon because he'd already eaten too much this morning and might have to miss lunch later for club sign-ups, which is terrible. He's hoping that at least his class isn't too bad this year. Haley-Dove is a small town, but small doesn't always mean nice. He'd know.
(Roman can't get the words out of his head anymore.)
Both Mitchell and Croft were forced to change schools from Haley-Dove Secondary but what if there are new people?
Roman shakes the thoughts out of his head. School. First day. Homeroom. Class 9-D. This is doable. Just breathe, 4, 7, 8 and walk into the classroom. You can do it Roman, where's that confidence? Wait don’t answer that question just GO--
bump
“Hi! Sorry, I was so clumsy. Hey, I’m Patton!”
Roman first needs to decode that sentence before answering. Okay- Patton, sorry for bumping into Roman. Okay. Greeting, so greet back. Performance time, baby!
“No problem, Patton! I’m Roman!” Patton visibly cheers up in front of him, skirt swishing sideways a bit in the wind. Patton notices Roman looking at the skirt starts talking again.
“Uh.. he/him pronouns- but my gender is weird, yanno?” Roman did not know, but it seemed to matter to Patton, so he nodded and smiled a bit.
“Tis alright! I use he/him as well! Now, what homeroom address have you got, dear Patton? Let us make haste!” Patton giggled at Roman’s antics, meaning it was working. Good. Both of them fish into their pockets for a piece of paper they got at the entrance, unfolding it. Roman’s reads 9-D, as expected, along with Pattons’s.
“Hey- this means we’re in the same class! Woo-hoo! That means one new friend, huh kiddo?”
“Kiddo?”
“Sorry, I call my friends that.” Patton looks sheepish, as if he doesn’t expect Roman to react well.
“Oh no problem, dear Patton! I look forward to going through this year with you!” they both giggle, and Roman actually feels like they can be friends- Remus will be proud.
“Well, I am too! C’mon, let’s go- we’re already a bit late for homeroom.”
Roman looks at the clock- 8:02. They are officially two minutes late. Remus is probably in class already, if not just to pull a prank on the new homeroom teacher, meaning Roman had better get to class already.
“Yes! Onward! To academic achievement!”
The chemistry room is a little cold all of a sudden, and something has clearly woken up.
School’s in session, everyone. Hope you’re ready for this.
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chloelucia13 · 5 years ago
Text
Chapter 7: MADMAX
Pairing: none for the moment (currently Jonathan Byers x Platonic!Henderson!reader)
Prompt:  You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.
Chapter Summary: A year after getting Will back, things seemed that they were going back to normal. Well, almost everything
Warnings: angst, fluff, language, descriptions of medical procedures, it’s pretty tame this chapter (it’ll get crazier, trust me)
Word Count: 1947
A/N: We’ve finally reached season 2! This chapter is a little short, but they’ll definitely get longer. I’m gonna start a masterlist for this series so it’ll be easier to binge. I’m glad you guys have enjoyed it so far! I have a lot of plans for this season and the next, and I’m hoping to finish season 3 before the new season comes out (fingers crossed!). Anyways, enjoy!
Taglist: @just-my-fandom​ 
Catch up: Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6
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You were nearly half asleep when the bell rang, signaling the end of your math class. In an instant, you were out of your chair with your bag slung over your shoulder and running towards the door to catch up with Nancy and Jonathan.
Tina stood at the door of the class, handing out neon orange invitations to her yearly Halloween party that had a reputation for having the cops shut it down. You avoided her hand when she reached an invitation out to you, hurrying forward to walk in-step with Jonathan. 
A moment later, Nancy caught up to you two, handing each of you one of the invitations. “You guys are coming to this,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“’Come and get sheet-faced,’“ Jonathan read the invite out loud before scoffing. “No I’m not.”
“Oh come on,” she whined before turning to you. “Y/N, tell him he has to come.”
You sighed. “Nance, I don’t go to parties.”
“I can’t just let you guys sit all alone on Halloween. That’s just not acceptable.”
“Well you can relax, we’re not gonna be alone. We’re taking the kids trick-or-treating,” Jonathan explained.
“All night?”
“Yeah.”
“No, no way. You guys are gonna be home by 8:00, listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you hummed, letting out a chuckle.
“Yeah, that sounds like a nice night,” Jonathan joined in, playfully nudging your shoulder with his.
Nancy sighed and stopped at her locker. “Just come, guys. I mean, who knows, maybe you guys will like, meet someone,” she pleaded, opening her locker.
Just as you were about to scoff at her claim, Steve appeared out of nowhere and picked Nancy up, making her squeal in surprise. You and Jonathan exchanged a look and slipped out of there as quietly as possible, heading out towards the parking lot.
“Does Will have his appointment today?” you asked once you guys reached his car, sitting down on the hood.
He sat next to you, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I think so.”
You nodded, pursing your lips for a moment. “Should we go to the video store after school and get some movies he’d like? We could have a movie night?”
“Yeah, I think he’d like that.” He gave you a smile, but let out a sigh afterwards.  “But Bob is supposed to come over tonight.”
“Oh come on, Jonathan. Bob’s nice!”
“I guess. He’s just... off.”
“He’s just normal, Jonathan. He’s happy. It’s odd to us, but it’s not a bad thing. And besides, he makes your mom so happy, and I’d take Bob over Lonnie any day of the week.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He pursed his lips for a moment before turning back to you. “How have you been feeling?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know, really. Like, I feel normal, but I also feel... I feel like something bad is gonna happen. Like an sense of impending doom.” With a sigh, you rubbed your eyes. “And I’ve been getting zero sleep. I’ve been having nightmares for the past few weeks, and I haven’t had any in months. Maybe it’s because it’s around the same time when everything happened last year, but I don’t know.”
He nodded along to your words, listening intently. “Do you think that going to the party would help take your mind off things?”
“Jonathan, you know I don’t like parties. The loud sounds...” You shuttered. “I just don’t know.”
“Wouldn’t you want to have a normal high school experience before you graduate?”
“Wow, Jonathan Byers is trying to convince me to do something normal?” You chuckled and nudged his shoulder.
“Come on, nothing else about our lives is normal. Why shouldn’t we have one normal experience?”
You let out a sigh. “I’ll think about it.”
***
By the time Joyce and Bob got back with Will, you and Jonathan we’re nearly passed out on his bed listening to Joy Division.
You had shot up with a start at the sound of the door creaking open, forgetting where you were as your fight or flight kicked in.
Jonathan sat up right after you, resting his hands on your shoulders. “It’s just mom and Will, you’re okay,” he whispered, sensing your panic. “You’re safe.”
You let out a small sigh, rubbing at your eyes. “Right, sorry,” you choked out before taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. 
He took both your hands in his and rubbed soothing circles on your palms as you regulated your breathing. “Are you okay?”
You nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’m good.”
He arched an eyebrow at you. “You sure?”
With a shuddering breath, you squeezed his hands and gave him a smile. “Positive. I just... Had to realize where I was. I’m good now.”
He gave you a doubtful look, but nodded. “Okay.” He stared down at your linked hands for a moment, a small smile growing on his face. 
“What’re you thinking about?” you hummed, noticing the smile on his entranced face.
He shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. “Nothing, I just...” he sighed, shaking his head again. “It’s nothing.”
You rolled your eyes but took the hint to not push it, instead getting up off the bed and sifting through his cassette tapes. Your hand stopped on what appeared to be a new tape, one that you hadn’t seen before. With a hum, you picked it up and read the label. “’For her.’” you read aloud, your heart sinking a little. You turned to him, holding the tape up. “Who’s this for?”
His face immediately turned a bright shade of red as he scrambled out of his bed and over to you. “No one,” he rushed out, reaching out for the tape.
You arched an eyebrow at him and studied his movements for a moment before realization dawned on you. “Nancy.” You let out an incredulous chuckle. “That’s why you want to me to go to the party with you!”
“No!” He snatched the tape from your hands and put it back in the box. “Can we just drop it?”
“Absolutely not! You need to tell me, Jonathan! I’m your best friend, you have to tell me!”
He let out a huff and sat down on the edge of his bed, searching for what to say. “I... I like her, I guess.”
You rolled your eyes and sat down next to him. “Y’know, you could’ve just told me you wanted to go to that party for her and I would’ve caved a lot quicker.”
He turned his head to look at you. “That’s not why I wanted to go to the party.”
“Oh Jonathan, don’t give me some bullshit about how you wanted me to go to have fun-”
“But it’s true!”
“Jonathan, I’m not mad. You like her, and I’m happy for you. I’ll go to that party with you.”
Suddenly, Joyce opened Jonathan’s bedroom door and peeked her head inside. “Movie night?” she hummed.
You nodded, grabbing the three VHS tapes you and Jonathan rented and handing them to her. “We stopped at the video store after school today,” you explained, giving her a smile.
She scanned each movie before handing them back to you. “Awesome! I’ll make some popcorn!” She hurried away, leaving the door slightly ajar.
You let out a chuckle at her excitement, something that was very rare nowadays, and turned back to Jonathan. “You okay?” you asked, noticing the blank look on his face as he stared off into the distance.
He nodded, coming back to reality, and pushed himself to his feet. “Let’s go get Will,” he voiced, walking to the door without another word and leaving you to follow him. 
The two of you walked over to Will’s room and knocked on the door before entering. “Hey bud, we didn’t know what you’d like, so we got a variety,” Jonathan explained as you showed them to him before setting them atop his bookshelf. “Take your pick.”
“Whatever you want,” Will stated before returning to the drawing in his lap.
“Alright,” you hummed, sharing a look with Jonathan before the two of you sat on the edge of his bed. “What are you working on?”
“Zombie Boy? Who’s Zombie Boy?” Jonathan asked, sneaking a glance at Will’s drawing.
Will hesitated for a moment. “Me,” Will voiced quietly.
“Did someone call you that?” you questioned, voice laced with concern.
Will stayed silent, eyes focused on his drawing.
“Hey, you know you can to talk to me, talk to us. You know that, right?” you urged. “Whatever happened. Will, come on, talk to us.”
“Stop treating me like that!” he snapped back, making you furrow your brows in worry.
“What? Like what?”
“Like everyone else. Like there’s something wrong with me.”
“What are you talking about?” Jonathan spoke up.
“Mom, Dustin, Lucas, everyone. They all treat me like I’m gonna break. Like I’m a baby. Like I can’t handle things on my own. It doesn’t help. It just makes me feel more like a freak.”
You frowned deeply, clutching the bee pendant of your necklace. “Like we’re freaks,” you hummed in response, pursing your lips.
“You’re not a freak, neither of you,” Jonathan said, looking between the two of you.
“Yeah, I am,” Will argued. “I am.”
Jonathan clenched his jaw, letting out a huff. “You know what? You’re right.” Jonathan scooted up on the bed and turned to face Will. You turned around and tucked your legs under yourself. “You are freaks.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, and Will’s gaze rose from his drawing. “What?”
“No, I’m serious. You’re freaks. But what? Do you want to be normal? Do you wanna be just like everyone else? Being a freak is the best, I’m a freak.”
“Is that why you don’t have any friends other than Y/N?” Will asked, earning a laugh from you.
“I have friends, Will.”
“Then why are you always hanging out with me?”
“Because you’re my best friend, alright.”
“I mean, I’d rather be best friends with Zombie Boy than with a boring nobody,” you added, playfully nudging Will’s shoulder as Jonathan’s words sank in.
“Who would you rather be friends with? Bowie or Kenny Rogers?” Jonathan added.
Will made a disgusted face. “Ugh,” he groaned.
“Exactly! It’s no contest.”
“The thing is, nobody normal ever accomplished anything meaningful in this world. You got it?” you told him.
“Well... Some people like Kenny Rogers,” Will countered.
“Kenny Rogers?” came from the hallway, and Bob popped into the open doorway. “I love Kenny Rogers.”
Will and Jonathan exchanged a look and chuckled, earning a light slap to their legs from you.
“What’s so funny?” 
“Nothing,” Will brushed off, a big smile on his face.
Bob grabbed the tapes from off the shelf, looking through them. “Mr. Mom,” he whooped. “Perfect!”
As soon as he left the room, the two boys broke into giggles once more. “Hey, be nice!” you chided, letting out a slight giggle yourself. You pushed yourself off Will’s bed. “Alright, I guess we gotta go watch a movie now.”
Will nodded and set down his drawing pad and colored pencils before hopping off the bed and going out into the hallway.
“Hey Y/N?” Jonathan voiced, getting up off the bed and walking to you, stopping once he was only a foot or so away from you.
“Yeah?” you hummed, turning to face him.
“Thank you for helping me talk to Will.”
“Of course. There’s no need to thank me.”
He nodded, but there seemed to be something else on his mind. 
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go watch the movie.”
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hartigays · 5 years ago
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Ok so firstly I absolutely adore your writing! Not only is your characterization on point but the way you use words and create these beautiful sentences full of emotion? *chef's kiss* anyway, could you possibly write something where like Steve is triggered by something related to his homelife trauma (feeling dumb, ignored etc) and he starts to panic and billy has to calm him down? I know that's both super vague and too specific but whatever you decide to do I'm sure it'll be brilliant!! Thank u!
“what are you, stupid? jesus. king steve, everybody. in all his glory.”
steve feels his cheeks burn bright red. tommy can be such a fucking dick sometimes.
no - not sometimes. all the time. every waking moment of his life is spent being an insufferable prick. steve has long since gotten used to it, but this? this just. sucks.
because he’s standing in the fucking hallway, surrounded by curious onlookers. his peers; the ones who used to look at him with stars in their eyes. now watching him be humiliated by the guy who used to claim to love him when no one else was around to hear.
same way his father always did. steve may be the former king of hawkins high, but his father still reigns king when it comes to tearing steve down in the most humiliating and public ways possible.
when he’s around, anyway.
steve glares at tommy, his throat working. it feels tight, like his comeback is stuck inside, the words packed tightly together. tommy just stares right back.
fucking dick. steve tries to remember what he’d felt all those years ago, when they were young and naïve and tommy didn’t care about his reputation or appearances. when they’d fall together in the dark, learning each other’s mouths and bodies and trading secrets in the quiet of his bedroom. stupid hormonal teenagers without a care in the world.
but that was before. before tommy got scared. before carol, or nancy. before steve’s world literally turned upside down.
steve can hear the snickering of his classmates, the hushed whispers. he just - it’s too much. his chest feels tight and his breath comes out in short bursts. he wants to move, to get the hell out of dodge and wash the feeling of tommy’s cruel gaze off of him. but he feels like he’s frozen in place, until. until.
a pair of curious blue eyes find his. billy, quiet as ever. he’s always quiet these days, that big personality and overbearing presence of his squandered by some altercation between him and max that steve had been too unconscious to witness.
billy’s not joining in, just trying to get to his locker. it doesn’t stop him from curiously assessing the situation before him. his clear, inquisitive eyes search steve’s face, his expression perfectly neutral.
he does that a lot these days. watches steve like a hawk, always around like a second shadow. it unnerved steve at first, put him on edge. constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
nothing has ever come of it. billy just watches him, observing. dissecting steve silently from a healthy distance, for reasons steve still doesn’t quite understand. they never talk about it - it’s another unspoken thing between them, one of many.
steve finds that it doesn’t bother him anymore, not the way it did at first. he’s grown used to it - is comforted by it, even. knowing that during school hours, no matter the place, no matter the situation, billy will be there. a silent observer whose eyes steve can find whenever he needs to ground himself.
a breath of fresh air when the world gets to be too much.
“this’ll be good,” tommy snorts, smacking billy’s shoulder lightly. his hand lingers against his skin for a moment too long. long enough for steve to notice. “you ever hear the story of how king steve lost control of his kingdom, hargrove? how he was just too damn stupid to keep it together?”
steve can’t help but think about how punchable tommy’s face has become over the years. how easy it’d be to close the distance between them, slam him up against the locker and take some of his pride back.
clearly, though, it’s not as easy as it seems.
“fuck you,” is all steve grinds out, before spinning on his heel and stalking down the hallway.
all he can think is about getting out. getting away, far away. away from the eyes of his classmates, away from billy still assessing him quietly. when he reaches the double doors leading to the parking lot, he can hear raised voices.
steve doesn’t turn back to see who they belong to, or listen to what they’re saying.
he makes it all the way to the beemer, his hands shaking as he fumbles for his keys. steve hates the way his hands shake nowadays, always a slight tremor even in his down time, made worse in high-stress situations.
the sound of his keys hitting the concrete is jarring. steve slumps against the beemer, turning his face up towards the sky and taking a steadying breath.
“you sure handled that well.”
steve jumps nearly a foot in the air, his eyes flying open in alarm. billy stands a few feet away, one hand holding a cigarette, the other stuffed in the pocket of his too-tight jeans.
“yeah, well. fuck you too.” steve bends down, grabbing his keys from the pavement. his hands still shake, his body wound too tight. on the verge of a full-blown panic.
he moves to unlock the beemer, but billy grabs his elbow. takes a drag off of his cigarette, then says, “let’s go for a drive.”
steve knows not to argue with billy hargrove by now. though, that doesn’t really ever stop him. but right now he doesn’t have it in him. right now, he’s still coiled tight, just on this side of a breakdown.
the camaro smells like billy. a heady mixture of cologne, cigarettes, stale beer, and the faint scent of laundry detergent. the scent makes steve’s head feel a little fuzzy, same way billy’s eyes do.
yeah, steve has a type. as much as it pains him to admit it.
“where’re we going?” steve asks after several long minutes of silence.
billy ashes his cigarette out his window, not even glancing in steve’s direction. “you’ll see,” is all steve gets.
they drive for a little while, the silence riding the line between comfortable and uncomfortable. steve feels a little suffocated by it, the weight of it pressing down on him.
soon, however, the camaro is rolling to a stop. steve looks out the window, his brows coming together in confusion. “the quarry?”
“get out.”
steve opens his mouth to object, not a huge fan of billy ordering him around. although - that’s debatable. he’s fully aware of how he feels when billy bosses him around on the court. but at least there he can blame his flush on physical exertion rather than the truth.
but billy is too fast, swinging his door open and climbing out of the car, slamming it back shut before steve can utter a word. he can hear him rummaging around in the trunk, and, well. steve is too curious for his own good.
he climbs out, breathing the fresh air deep into his lungs. billy’s scent had been getting rather overwhelming, anyway.
billy carries a box to the edge of the quarry, not sparing a glance back at steve. not even checking to see if he’s following.
steve still does. hurries after billy, his brows still furrowed in confusion. he watches the other boy stop at the cliff’s edge, then take a seat. a moment later steve joins him.
“here,” billy says, reaching into the box and pulling out a beer bottle.
with a snort, steve takes the offering. “this is empty. the fuck am i supposed to do with an empty beer?”
billy doesn’t answer him. instead, grabs one of his own. winds his arm like he’s throwing a baseball, then launches the bottle at the ground down far below.
they both watch as it falls. steve listens for the faint sound of it smashing at the bottom.
“get the gist?” billy finally asks, turning to look at steve with mild amusement.
steve makes a face. “yeah, dickhead. i’m not an idiot.”
“i know that.”
that has steve faltering, just a bit. the words make him feel warm. but. he’s been burned so many times now that the words are just that - words. anyone can tell him he’s not stupid. they can say it all goddamn day long, but it still won’t make it true.
in lieu of a response, steve pulls back the arm holding his own bottle before flinging it into the quarry. watches as it falls, feels that pressure in his chest lessen, just a little bit, when it smashes to the ground.
they continue on like that, until they’re down to the last few bottles. carrying on in silence, until billy pauses. turns to look at him, bottle in hand.
“you always let people talk to you like that?” he asks, rolling the bottle between his palms.
steve is about to toss another bottle. hesitates at the sound of billy’s voice. “what’s it to you?”
“just curious as to why you’re so content to let a dumbshit like tommy run his big mouth,” billy tells him, shrugging. “not like he packs a punch or anything.”
“you’d be surprised,” steve mutters. tosses the bottle, flinging it with more force than the others.
billy gives him an amused look. “do i even want to know?”
“wouldn’t tell you even if you did.”
“fair enough.”
a few more beats of silence. the last of the bottles are thrown, until they’re left with an empty box. billy stands, taking it to the camaro. when he returns, he takes his previous spot, though he’s a few inches closer than before.
close enough that their shoulders brush. steve’s fingers grip the cliff edge that he’s perched on, tightening at the feeling of billy situated so close to him.
“it’s not true, you know.” billy breaks the silence once again.
steve knows what he’s talking about. plays dumb anyway. “what’s not true?”
“you being stupid. you’re a lot of things, harrington,” billy tells him, “but dumb’s not one of ‘em.”
“yeah, well. tell that to everyone else,” steve mutters. turns his face up towards the overcast sky with a tired sigh.
their shoulders knock together. billy blinks over at him with an unreadable expression. “fuck everyone else. the fuck do they know, anyway?”
“a whole hell of a lot more than me, apparently.”
billy rolls his eyes. turns back to the quarry, starting to fling rocks into its depths. “so you let people push you around like a bitch, and you let ‘em tell you who you are. rookie mistakes, harrington.”
“when every fucking person in your life has told you that you’re stupid in some way or another, you kind of stop fighting it,” steve snaps. “look, i don’t need you telling me how pathetic i am. i get enough of that shit at home.”
he’s getting a little sick of billy’s unwarranted criticism. steve would rather he just call him stupid and go. he knows how to handle that, at least. but billy doesn’t. he just keeps throwing his fucking rocks, sighing like steve has disappointed him one too many times.
“daddy issues?” billy asks with a smirk. but there’s something underneath, something sharp and bitter. something like recognition. “figured a rich pretty boy like you would have that perfect white picket fence life.”
“you make a habit of taking everything at face value?” steve fires back, fixing his gaze on billy’s profile.
“guess we all have our faults,” billy says with a shrug. “but to be fair, i didn’t have any real reason to assume otherwise.”
steve doesn’t say anything. he looks out at the quarry. back at billy. traces the sharp angles of his profile. doesn’t look away when billy meets his eyes.
“whole world can tell you what’s what, stevie boy. fact of the matter is, ‘s not their life,” billy tells him, blue eyes burning with a near-electrifying intensity. “you decide who you are. no one gets to do that for you, unless you let ‘em.”
swallowing thickly, steve looks away. brushes some of the hair out of his eyes with a hand that trembles minutely. when he places it back at the ledge, his pinky brushes against billy’s. steve feels his cheeks heat up and their eyes lock yet again, his skin buzzing at the small point of contact.
billy reaches a hand up, brushing steve’s hair from his eyes more effectively than steve himself had. he chews on his lip, his gaze flickering down to steve’s lips. back to his eyes. back down again.
“my dad. he’s been telling me who i am my whole life,” steve admits, his voice soft. “never really had a chance to figure it out for myself.”
“tell me about it,” billy murmurs. still staring at steve’s mouth. “but you gotta break free eventually, harrington. else you’re all but guaranteed to grow into those shoes he’s been trying to get you to fill. mr. harrington 2.0.”
“that what you did?” steve asks, his own gaze flickering down to billy’s mouth. “break free?”
“trying to,” billy says, easily. his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “‘s not always black and white. but sometimes...”
steve swallows. shifts just a bit closer. “sometimes...?”
billy sucks in a breath. meets steve’s eyes one last time. “sometimes it’s pretty fuckin’ clear-cut.”
when billy kisses him, steve wants to feel shocked. he wants to feel stunned by it. blindsided. but he doesn’t. it just feels inevitable.
and this inevitability, it started the moment billy barreled over to him at the halloween party. pushing through a mass of sweaty, drunk teenagers to size him up. every choice they’ve made, between the two of them, have led to this instance. this precise moment. steve felt it, even when they were at each other’s throats. he felt it in every curious look that billy cast his way after.
he felt it simmering beneath every interaction, every word, every glance. billy had always been inevitable, steve just needed to clear out some of the clutter in his brain to recognize the signs for what they were.
billy helped him do that. with a simple gesture in steve’s time of need.
so. steve lets billy kiss him. kisses him right back. it’s a soft, sweet thing, the kiss. just a gentle press of lips, billy’s hand at his jaw. feather-light and completely out of character.
but steve is starting to realize that maybe the version of billy he’d created in his head is just that. a version he’d drawn up based on experiences he only saw the surface of, assumptions he’d made through judgment, and if he’s being honest, stereotypes.
there’s definitely a lot more to billy than steve ever would’ve thought. he’s softer around the edges, sweeter. still a fucking prick, and probably always will be, but. steve can deal with that, if it means he gets to keep learning more about the enigma that is billy hargrove.
“kissing me is how you’re gonna break free?” steve asks when billy pulls away, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“not completely,” billy tells him with a soft huff of a laugh. “but it’s a start.”
they stay at the quarry a while longer, throwing rocks, shooting the shit. they don’t kiss again, not until later. not until they’re back at steve’s big, empty house. with steve pressed up against the kitchen counter, his fingers knotted in billy’s hair.
it’s not a solution to all of steve’s problems, this thing he’s started with billy. not even close. and while it may not completely cast light over the darkness that shrouds both of their lives, may not fill the void that a myriad of bullshit has created for the both of them, there’s still a bit of truth to what billy said.
it’s a start.
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mxtantrights · 4 years ago
Text
✹ PART FIFTEEN
HAWKINS, INDIANA
MAY 21, 1984
It's my birthday. And I'm hiding out underneath the covers in fear that my mother is some weird memory erasing villain. I know I sound crazy, but it's not just me. It's also Dayton. He's called me almost everyday since the month of May rolled around, except for the past two days. He's on edge too.
I know the sun is out because I can see the light peeking though my comforter. I feel like I haven't moved an inch. Just to make sure. Not to give her any reason to come into my room and snatch my memory away.
But at some point this ruse has to come to an end.
My birthday falls on a Monday. School waits for no man or woman. Soon someone is going to come in my room and wake me up. Whether it be Mickey, My dad or my mom. And then my dad would have to start.
I don't think I play sick too well.
If I just jump out my window and book it to school I doubt I won't get reprimanded. Even if it is my birthday. Figures.
My dad has been throwing out things for me to do. Since I am turning 17 it is 'a lot of responsibility' and I should 'not take it lightly'. I don't know. I'm desperately wishing he brought me a car or something. It sucks having to be a junior and biking to school, or being driven by the parents.
I hear my door creak open.
Here we fucking go.
"Jessie? Are you up?" My dad's voice asks.
I slowly remove the covers from my face and take a look.
He's got a cupcake in his hand with a candle on top. The fire is dancing a little bit because I've got the window open. And I can't forget his partner in crime. Mickey is holding another cupcake with another candle.
Dad's cupcake as a one. Mickey's has a seven.
I smile. "Wow all for me?"
"It's your seventeenth! It's only up from here kid." My dad jokes and brings Mickey closer with him over to me on the bed.
They both hold up the cupcakes near my face for me to blow out the candles. If wishes really did come true, I really needed a miracle right now.
I wish to make it through my birthday without forgetting it.
I blow out the candle.
They cheer for me and put the cupcakes by my bedside. They don't say anything else as they walk out of my room and close the door. Looks like my day has begun already. If she doesn't know I'm up now, she'll know soon enough.
I throw the covers off of me and get out of bed.
Not even a second to spare and my bedroom door is being thrown open.
My mom looks at me with a smile. "Oh I didn't know you were up already. Well, now that you are I can ask what your plans are for today."
I need to lie.
I need to lie so well that even a part of me believes it.
"Well I'm going to school, there's an important test I need to take for math. And then after that is still up in the air. I'll think of something while I'm at school." I put lightly, walking to my drawer.
As I rummage though it to pick an outfit I can see her tense a bit. Wasn't expecting that now were we mother dearest?
"So you and me aren't doing our girl thing this year?" She asks, with a little pity in her voice. Like I'd have pity on her. She basically locked me in this house for two months. And after that it's like I'm on a leash with her. It's not fair.
And the whole, birthday thing.
I shook my head. "No mom. I just wanna try something new, something different. Don't mean to offend you."
I pick out a yellow tank top and some blue jeans. This will have to do. It get's hot here and it's not even officially summer yet.
She almost scoffs. I catch it at the last second but she turns it into a sigh. "Alright then. Happy birthday then Jessie."
She doesn't even close my door.
-
The bell that signals the end of last period rings. I can't get out fast enough because I'm flying out of my seat with my bag on my back. I don't need to linger here for any surprises. Today has been long enough with trying to keep a low profile with my mother.
Jonathan caught me at my locker and wished me a happy birthday, with a present in tow. It was a pick. Of course I had many at home but those were the ones that I had stuffed in my room from the old pawn shop. They were free with my guitar purchase.
He asked me if I was doing anything special and I told him no. I didn't tell him the whole truth, but some part of it. He's my closest friend here and I don't feel like lying to the only person who knows me well enough here.
Then Nancy caught me at lunch.  She wasn't with her usual posey. I don't know what happened with her and Carol and Tommy. But all I do know is that she just rolls with Steve now. It seems like he's really shaping up for her.
Anyways, she wished my a happy birthday. So did Steve, but it was kind of under his breath. Maybe he feels guilty about being friends with Carol and her goons. Or maybe he's was just trying to be polite for the sake of his girlfriend.
She then asked me what I was doing. And I lied. I told her that my family and I were going out to diner some place fancy. I didn't have to lie but I didn't want to air out my dirty laundry with her boyfriend standing right there. I know I can trust her because after all she was there that night when I went looking for Mickey and the gang.
I don't know it's just complicated.
My thoughts must have blocked my vision because I'm colliding with a body outside of the school building. I don't fall though, but I do wobble. When I look up to apologize to see who I bumped into I stand back up straight.
It was Steve.
"Uh hey, sorry I wasn't watching where I was going." I apologized- I was raised with manners. Surprisingly I remember them.
"It's fine." He nods his head once. I wonder where Nancy is? "H-"
My mother's station wagon pulls up right beside us with a skid.
SHI-
My eyes search the vehicle for any chloroform or anything that could knock me out but I don't see it. Granted I doubt she'd carry a tank of it, or of anything in the back of the car. It'd be in like a napkin or something.
Instead I find my brother.
He rolls down the window and leans over to speak to me. "Come on sis, we've got plans remember?"
I almost collide with Steve again but he moves me out of the way. "Jes- sorry."
I don't hear his response as I run to the passenger side of the wagon and hop in. I slide my bag off and place it by my feet.
"What are you doing back? I mean- I'm thankful of course but, whats happening here?" I ask him as he drive out of the school parking lot and onto the main road. His eyes don't go off the road for a second.
"I'm here to make sure mom doesn't take you on a birthday special. And because school is out and I'm here for the summer." He explains to me.
"Wow for the whole summer? Aren't you gonna be missing your significant other?" I couldn't hide the smirk on my face when he looked over at me for a moment's glance. He was so whipped! I can't wait to meet him!
He chuckles at me. "Yes I do miss him. But he's back home in Pennsylvania. We can still call each other though and it's not like it's long distance forever."
"Oh you're so whipped! Wow! I really do want to see just who has a acquired your heart like this! It's amazing!"
-
Since my parents weren't expecting Dayton back home so soon, they didn't clear out the guest bedroom. It's filled with boxes of untouched stuff and clutter that neither of my parents wanted to throw away.
That means Dayton is camping out in my room for the foreseeable future. And I really really need to thank whoever it is that grants birthday wishes because I have been blessed with a miracle on this lucky day!
He fell asleep a few minutes ago- his snores gave it away.
The door creaks open and in pokes in Mickey's head. I rest on my elbows.
"Hey sleepyhead, what's going on?" I whisper to him.
He comes into my room and closes the door behind him. He never really comes into my room at night like this. Usually he comes in here to bother me, annoy me, ask me weird questions or whatever. But he has never in the dark of night walked into my room.
Mickey quickly hops into bed with me, under the covers and all.
"I had a nightmare." He whispers back.
And he never tells me about his nightmares.
This must be about the whole upside-down thing. It has to be. It's the only nightmare we share under this roof.
I turn on my side to face him. "What was it about?"
"You."
"And?"
"And the accident you had a few years ago."
Accident? What accident? When did I ever get into an accident? I think I would re- unless it happened on my birthday. In that case I need to hear every single detail about this.
"Maybe talking about it will let the fear go, Mickey."
He sighs and shuts his eyes.
"You and me were out in the yard at our old house, in the tree house. You were going down to get something and then out of no where you just fell to the ground. I tried to wake you up but it wasn't working. You were just laying there until mom showed up."
Of course.
"But I'm okay now. I'm right here."
"I know that it's just that when El fell that night I remembered it again." He opens his eyes and looks at me.
Is that why he grabbed my hand? Because it was like reliving a memory for him? He got scared again?
I hold out my hand for him to take.
He takes it.
"I promise you I won't scare you like that again. I'm sorry Mickey."
"It's okay." he squeezes my hand as he says it. "At least you remember now."
"What do you mean?"
"When I asked you about it after mom showed you to the doctor you couldn't remember. And she said that because you hit your head, you wouldn't remember. A few things."
"Mickey, do you know what doctor I went to?"
If I can get the name, I can get the number. And I can ask for a file. A file that I can use to explain why there are so many gaps in my memory. I know that whatever fall I took can't be the whole explanation for it, but it could be what I need to spark a memory.
He shook his head.
He didn't know.
"You didn't go to the doctor. He came to you."
I don't remember my regular doctor ever going house calls. Yes we were a small town, but he had an office. And it's not like we personally knew the man. He was the whole town's pediatrician so he had a lot of patients. No one I knew back home got house calls.
I don't think it was my usual doctor.
I think it was my mother's memory eraser. Or something to do with it.
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mingiswow · 5 years ago
Text
Soulmate!au Series | Hyungwon
Pairing: Hyungwonx female reader
Summary: Soulmates were marked with matching tattoos when born, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that yours were something so vague as lips.
Words: + 2.2k
a/n: hey sweet cheeks, here’s another part of the soulmate series. I’m loving to write them so much and, so far, Hyungwon has been one of my faves to write. Hope you like this one and please help auntie Bruna and like, reblog and/or comment. Feedback is always welcomed. Love ya
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You liked your job, you really did, it paid your bills after all. But there were days that everything seemed too much for you to handle, especially when the hotel received famous people that’d leave the rooms upside down for you and your partner to clean.
It was 4AM when you left the bus, saying your usual goodbye to the driver, and walking slowly through the street, enjoying the quietness before the storm of cars, bus, people and construction. You walked past the hotel, greeting the security before heading to the back of the building, doing the same path you did every day before getting to the changing room.
“Morning, babe cakes” Martha, your coworker and partner greeted you, her usual smile on her lips. “You heard about who’s coming today?” her voice muffled from her uniform on her head.
“Morning. Yeah, heard that they are some international singers, but not much more than that” you took your clothes off, folding them neatly and storing in your locker.
“Hey! Your tattoo is shining!” the woman spoke, getting closer to you and gently touching the drawing on your chest. “There are even the flowers blooming around! Do you think you’ll meet your soulmate soon?” your eyes trained to the spot, the reddish lips indeed glowing as the cherry blossoms grew around, closing the tattoo inside a heart-shaped frame.
The legend says that every human being in the world was destined to someone and those who two souls would connect through their complementary tattoos, placed on the left side of their chest, right on top of the heart. When your true-one love is close, the marks took a neon coloration, as they seemed to shine, and little flowers would grow around it, signaling the bloom of a new life. You never understood how they worked since they were complementary, not matching marks. Your mark could match with anything minimally related to lips, it could be a lipstick, some food, an instrument, musical notes. It could be so many things.
“It’s what it looks like” you simply said, covering the tattoo with your perfectly-white t-shirt. “Besides, you know I don’t have time to date or whatever right now. I have to work, study and take care of my dog” your coworker laughed.
“Oh, come on! You need to accept that one day you’ll meet them and God knows what you’ll have to do about it” you rolled your eyes to her.
Shaking away those intrusive thoughts about your future, you two finished putting your uniforms before heading to the kitchen to have breakfast with your other coworkers from that shift and start cleaning the rooms.
Being a maid in a hotel wasn’t what you dreamed for your life, whoever, you liked that place and the people who worked with you. You always had a great time with those people, especially Martha, who became like a mother to you since you were so far away from your own. When you left your hometown to go to the capital to try to become a model, everyone was against you but you decided not to listen to them and follow your dreams. It didn’t turn out very well, yes, you did a few photoshoots here and there, but it wasn’t what you imagined. But still was better than nothing.
The morning seemed to crawl as slowly as a slug. A weird pain on your body like someone was pinning your voodoo doll, especially your heart, but you decided to let it aside, it was probably just anxiety since you couldn’t take your conversation with Martha out of your mind and she wouldn’t shut up about your future lover and how they’d look and be.
“What if they are some royalty? Or what if they are some rich CEO?” she kept speculating about as she neatens up the wrinkles in the bed cover. “What if they are the homeless in the street? Would you love them anyway?” you simply rolled your eyes at her hypothesis, letting her speak alone. 
It was about midday when your boss called you through your intercom. She seemed a little… exalted. You looked over to the woman as a plead for her to not let you go, but she couldn’t do a thing. You left her and the room you were cleaning behind to meet your boss at her office. You just wished no one complained about you and your services, you had a dog to raise.
You knocked on the door three times before you could hear some laughs and the woman speak with her usual happy and deep voice telling you to enter.
“Excuse me, Miss. Did you c-” your heart stung as you stepped inside the room, making your best effort to not let the pain show.
“Y/N? Is everything okay?” the concern in her voice made you look to the floor, embarrassed for some reason.
“Yes, just a little pain but I’ll be good. Do you need me?” you recomposed yourself, your eyes meeting seven gorgeous men. Not any seven random men, but Monsta X members. Your heart started racing, your eyes never leaving them. You probably were making a fool of yourself. Your ultimate group was in front of you and you were all messed up from working, smelling like sanitary water and disinfectant.
“Oh yes, darling” the middle-aged woman clapped her hands. “This is Monsta X, but you young people might know already” she giggled excitedly and nodded to her, bowing to them as a greeting. “They are going to use our master suite for a photoshoot. Is everything clean there, sweetie?”.
“Yes, Martha and I just finished. I believe they can start taking the equipment and props to the room, miss” you answered trying to ignore the growing pain in your chest. You felt like you were about to fall, you couldn’t feel anything but the aching pain in your heart. Trying your best to hide the pain in your face, you bowed before leaving the room. 
Your heart felt like leaving your chest, thumping hard, muscle against bones against muscles. Never in your entire life you felt such pain. It wasn’t bad though, it was just a sensation you had never felt. It was almost warm, welcoming. You decided to let it all go and go back to your work, it wasn’t time for you to daydream about those feelings.
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You watch warned you and Martha that the morning shift was over and you were free to lunch, your stomach growling inside you.
“What do you have today?” your coworker asked sitting by your side and spying on your packed lunch.
“Just a sandwich, I’m not very hungry” you lied. You didn’t have much food left at home, and the money that you earned this month was already gone with the bills. Your stomach growled again and the woman looked at you, eyebrow raised form your lie. It wasn’t the first time that happened.
“Y/N… You need to stop lying to yourself” you looked over the triangular bread, it barely had some jelly on it. “You didn’t get any modeling work this month?” you denied, stuffing the dry bread on your mouth.
“It’s hard to get some when you have no agency and don’t look fancy and rich like the others” you sighed, looking over to the woman. “Nobody wants to hire me because I’m a nobody, I have nothing left, Martha, no food, no money, no family, it’s just me and Mong” Martha’s arms wrapped you in a tight hug, helping you through your tears.
“I’m so sorry dear, I wish I could help but you know that I have children on my own” you nodded.
“You don’t have to, you’re not my real mom” you kept crying on her embrace as the pain in your chest kept growing.
“Y/N” the voice of your boss startled you and you turned around to meet her and the boys again. “It’s everything fine?” you nodded, wiping the tears away. 
“Can I help you with anything?”.
“You’re a model, right darling? The girl hired by the boys called it sick and now they need someone to be their model” your eyes sparkled, was she saying what you were thinking she was saying? “Can you do this? I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t know you are good at it” you smiled, both from happiness and nervousness.
“Yes, I sure can do” you lifted yourself from the chair and look at your state. “I just need a shower first” your cheeks reddened and, if it was possible, your chest seemed to hurt even more.
You quickly ran to the dressing rooms, taking a shower and making sure to take all that cleaning products’ smell out of your body, put on the clothes you arrived earlier. 
You had never seen that suite so full of people and things. And, look, there were rock stars staying there. Cameras, scenarios, backgrounds, props, lights. It all made you more nervous than you already were. You were going to model. With your ultimate group. Smelling like cleaning products.
“Hello” you spoke, calling the people attention to yourself. You were sure that your chest was going to rip it open. “I’m Y/N… The new model” your voice sounded hesitant. Great. They were going to think you were unprepared. A woman came close to you and circled around your body, eyeing you up and down, before stopping in front of you.
“Let’s start with the leader” she simply said, a plain tone in her voice and no facial expression at all. Soon enough there were at least four people around you, putting on the clothes and making the adjustments for them to fit, doing your makeup and hair. “Are you ready, sweetie?” the woman came back, a camera on her neck, as she guided you to the first background, Shownu already positioning himself.
“Hi” you greeted him, bowing a little bit to the huge man standing in front of you. He smiled, greeting you back.
You two took enough pictures for a lifetime and it was just Shownu. As time was passing by and you were getting more confident on your poses, interacting with the leader, taking more intimate pictures.
“Ok, who’s next?” the photographer asked, seeing a very handsome Hyungwon lift his hand. You thought you’d never see him getting more perfect. But at that moment, with him in flesh and bones in front of you, wearing those flowy clothes that made him look with nothing but an angel, you were sure that you’re entire life was a lie. Hyungwon could get more perfect. “Great. Guys, dress Y/N up for Hyungwon concept” and soon again the stylists were around you again.
If for Shownu you were looking fearless and sexy, for Hyungwon you were ethereal. Your hair was curled to perfection, falling down your shoulders, they even put on some clip-on extensions to make it look longer and fuller. Your makeup was glittery, shades of light blue and pink perfectly mixing together. But nothing compared to your two-piece dress. The top was shoulderless, making your collarbones and soulmate tattoo show up, the sleeves were as flowy as the boy’s own shirt, a beautiful shade of off-white. The skirt was long, a long tail following behind. You looked like a princess angel. You were feeling gorgeous.
As you took your steps closer to Hyungwon, the chest pain started to increase, causing you to almost fall, your vision getting blurry.
“Ahn… What is going on?” Changkyun asked, looking over to both you and Hyungwon. “It’s what I’m thinking?” you didn’t have time to ask what he was thinking when a strong body grabbed yours and dragged somewhere.
Your pain started to warm up your whole body, and suddenly it wasn’t pain anymore. It became a soothing sensation like you were home in front of a fireplace and wrapped in a warm blanket.
You slowly opened your eyes to finally see what was going on. The sight got you by surprise. Your hands were wrapped around Hyungwon ones, a tiny red string tattooed around your ring finger as well on his, Your soulmate tattoo shining as bright as ever, a new design added to it: a green straw between the lips. Your eyes trailed from your chest to the boy’s one. Under his shirt, you could see the silhouette of the same tattoo glowing.
You blinked several times, not believing that. Destiny was motherfucking crazy. 
“They’re soulmates” Wonho stated the obvious, his mouth hanging open, as well as everyone else. 
“I…” the words didn’t leave his mouth, he was as surprised as you. “Hm… Hi… I’m Hyungwon” he shook your intertwined hands, his eyes fitting yours. 
“I’m Y/N and I think I’m your soulmate” Martha squealed behind everyone and you all turned to her.
“OH MY GOD, Y/N! YOUR SOULMATE IS YOUR BIAS!” she screamed genuinely happy for you, your cheeks and ears burning red when he turned his eyes back to you.
“No words about that right now” you said. “I need to first digest the idea that I just met my soulmate and Gosh! You’re gorgeous” he chuckled at your sudden confession.
“If I can say so myself, you as gorgeous as me… soulmate” the words felt beautifully from his lips and it all felt like a dream.
You two lifted from the ground and his arms instantly hugged you, your chests touching your tattoos, the warmth radiating from it felt like home and the phrase “home is where the heart is” never felt more right in your life.
He left the embrace, his hands gently touching your cheeks, caressing them before bringing his face close to yours to finally kiss you and seal your future together. 
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Shownu | Wonho | Minhyuk | Kihyun | Hyungwon | Jooheon | I.M
Requests are open
Masterlist
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joshslater · 6 years ago
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The Man
Let’s do hypno!
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Sam was honestly happy the event was over. Sure, it was great to be acknowledged with this years young entrepreneur award, but he didn't like to be in a formal setting. It always made him self conscious, though he was pretty sure that was by design. He headed down from the conference floor of Sheraton, through the lobby out on the street, and had a light jog a block away to where his sporty bicycle was parked. He was, as always, wearing sweatshirt and sweatpants with the company logo, and a backpack. It was mentioned more than once in the award ceremony how he never lost an opportunity for advertisement and branding. Dashing through the city on his needlessly rugged off road bike made him reflect on just how far he'd come.
He couldn't remember anything about The Man. How he looked. How old he was. But he could clearly remember some of the phrases from the session. There could have been more than one, but how could he know?
He'd blink into existence and asked him "Do you know who I am?". "No", Sam had answered, truly having no clue. "Do you know where you are?" he followed. "No", although clearly sitting across the table from The Man in someones kitchen, he had no recollection of the place or how he got there. "And you have no idea who else lives here" he said and pointed at some clothes on a chair. "No", Sam answered again, surprisingly calm given the circumstances. He could only remember being on his way back home from school before appearing at this table.
"Good. Let's keep it that way. You've been a bad boy Sam, but perhaps it is best everyone forgets about that. But you should have some punishment, and some way of making sure it doesn't happen again." Sam didn't follow what he meant. Bad how?
"There are two main drivers for how to change behavior. On the negative side we have dislikes, fears and phobias. I can easily make you afraid of country music, make you think chocolate is disgusting or make underwear itch unbearably. But I much rather like the positive side. Where you love doing things. Those tends to stick much longer, because you can make a positive feedback loop. If I made you really like soccer, I might add wearing football socks all the time as an obsessive compulsive trait. Every time you put them on you'll get a shot of positive feeling, making it even more likely you'll do it again. 3, 2, 1, sleep."
Just a blink later Sam was standing in front of the front door of his house, as if nothing had happened. It was late and the walk from school that usually only took 15 minutes had taken several hours. He somehow knew that The Man, whoever he was, had done a lot of changes to him, but he couldn't remember any of them.
The first one was almost immediately apparent as he entered the house and sat down for dinner. "I was almost about to get worried", his mother had told him. But he wasn't hungry, and throughout the meal he had a nagging, discomforting feeling that he didn't know what the food was. He had excused himself, saying he wasn't feeling all that good, gone to his room and spent many hours reading up on carbs and fats and proteins and meal plans and macros.
Next morning was much better. Not knowing the day would end downhill, he had started happy, with a sense of accomplishment, and a bowl of oat meal porridge. One cup oats and two cups apple juice, microwaved. He had however problems concentrating on classes all throughout the day, and felt very picky on what to eat and not during lunch. Then PE. In all of school he had never liked PE. He was good enough of a student to at least make an effort, but he would jump on any opportunity to skip. But today it was amazing. It went better than it ever had before. He'd never felt so much energy, such a drive to perform. He couldn't do everything he wanted, but that was his body failing him, not his determination. He just needed to be faster, stronger, more flexible.
As he got dressed after, in the locker room, he realized that something had changed. A shift had happened in his brain.  He didn't know how he knew it, but he knew that he could no longer wear clothes unless someone else had been sweating in them. The realization came to him fully formed as he started to get dressed after shower. How his skin started to crawl and itch. He recalled what The Man had said about getting people to do or not do things. This was one such thing he realized. This had been done to him.
In panic he grabbed his and Peters gym clothes, both lying next to each other on the bench, and stuffed them into his bag. Wondering how long he could stand before he had to strip out of all his clothes he rushed into the storage room, jammed the door with a broom and almost tore his clothes off, trying to get naked again as fast as possible.
Standing nude he was almost surprised to not see any rashes on his body. Intellectually he knew that it was just his mind playing games with him. Some irrational thought, planted in him, that he made real. But it was so very, very real to him. Still slightly panting he started to go through the last and found bin and putting on clothes. Someone else trunks and socks, T-shirt and sweatpants. He made sure to only pick common brands he could have bought himself at some point, to not be accused of theft. He skipped the last class for the day, saying he didn't feel well and walked home.
The next month was in turmoil for Sam. Perhaps it was stress with everything else going on, but he had troubles concentrating on anything. Food was a constant source of anxiety. He needed the right macros, the right amounts at the right time. He started to carry food with him, fruit and hard boiled eggs, to the surprise of his mother. His biggest problem however were the clothes. He started to hide dirty clothes in his room, so they wouldn't be accidentally washed. He had successfully made a few swaps with Peter's gym clothes, replacing his damp ones with ones he had previously stolen, worn and washed by his mother. The lost items bin long since raided for anything useful, he was running out of options. Tell a friend that he's a weirdo? Tell a parent? Not a chance.
The only time he wasn't stressed out by all of this was when he was actually participating in PE, or exercising himself in any other way. That's why he started to jog to school and run detours on his way back home. This was what set him on a path to a solution. He realized that to stay focused he needed to exercise more. That was the only way he wouldn’t completely flunk school. Ideally he would need multiple passes a day, but anything would be better than nothing. He'd never given gyms a second thought before, but not only did he turn up to the the nearest gym, fully intent to become a paying member. He managed to convince the owner to work the reception part time after school for free in exchange for membership. He still had his looks and charm.
Not only was the workout secured, but he had a source for clothes. Not just the lost and found either. With a bit of observational skill he could easily purchase the right items and swap them out when regulars were in the sauna. Tommy, a few years older but of similar build and size, and he practically shared a wardrobe of duplicate clothes two weeks later.
He’d come such a long way in just a few years. Winner of the young entrepreneur award and owner of three gyms in the city. While perhaps not a cash cow, his concept of gym clothes that they launder themselves had found a niche clientele. His impeccable technique, vast knowledge, and ability to translate that into real progress for his customers is what made him the most sought after PT in the entire area. Years of diligent workout without a single cheat day made him a walking billboard, which continued to pull in customers of any sex. Guess that’s the upside of being revolted by anything that would upset his macros. He still didn’t know if he’d gotten a revenge on The Man, or if everything had worked out as he planned.
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she-is-tim · 6 years ago
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I love hating you | Elu enemies to lovers AU | Chapter 6.5
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Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
Lucas is an angry, closeted and frustrated gay teenager, while Eliott is the handsome, smart and popular guy in school. They hate each other… but not forever.
 There will be Angst in this one too, so just careful with the reading.
This is the best for both of us
His living room smelled like the backroom of a night club now. Air filled with smoke, making his eyes burn even more. His tears stopped somewhere around the second joint, leaving dried traces on his face as reminders. He let out a deep sigh with a load of smoke and put the cigarette into the ashtray. This was the last one, which meant that he had to smoke actual cigarettes. But where did he put those? He looked around in the living room, his head hanging upside down from the couch’s armrest. He could only hope that his sister didn’t find it and took it with herself. 
His limbs felt heavy, his head dizzy thanks to the weed, but all he felt deep inside was numbness, eating its way to his heart. He couldn’t forget Lucas’ face as he left his apartment. He was crying, but he moved like he wasn’t even here. Eliott knew that feeling too well, but he couldn’t let himself into this. He got hurt so many times and Lucas proved him that he can’t trust Eliott, can’t trust his feelings towards him. It was the most painful thing he had ever done in his life. Letting go the person he loved more than anything. He was watching Lucas from afar for so long, wishing to change the boy’s anger into friendship or even more than that. He couldn’t believe it when they kissed, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever experienced. 
He shook his head, closing his eyes angrily, trying to push back the memories deep into his mind. Even smoking didn’t help him forget all those things they had done together. He hated that. His whole apartment reminded himof Lucas. The kitchen, the bathroom, the living room... He couldn’t sleep in his own bed since days now, because his pillow still smelled like him. He could just wash the sheets and everything, but as much as he wanted to get rid of the memories, a little piece of him were holding onto Lucas so hard, he wasn’t able to do it. So he just avoided his bed and only went inside when he needed clothes. 
His phone was buzzing on the coffee table, but he didn’t wanted to see who is calling. It was either Sofiane or Lucille. He knew he wouldn’t be able to talk with them. Not without making them worried, which would mean they will be coming over. Eliott just wanted to be alone, drowning in sorrows. His mind was somewhere in a really dark place. 
When he got annoyed, feeling his blood boiling under his skin, he got up and grabbed the ashtray, throwing it across the room. Thankfully it was made of a hard material, only cracking a little when it met with the wall, ash and cigarette butts covering the floor around it. Eliott opened the window to let out all that smoke and get some fresh air without leaving the place. He was mad at himself. More than ever before. He wanted to give a chance to him and Lucas so badly, but he couldn’t. 
During the weekend with Lucas his deepest wish was to tell his secret, to let it out and make sure the boy knows what he has to deal with when things get serious. Now he was glad he didn’t tell him, it would wreck him completely to hear that Lucas doesn’t want him because of his illness. It’s better like this, letting him go, telling him about his bipolarity after they split up. He would be lying if he’d say it was easy. He was always scared when it came to that topic. He lost most of his friends, even his girlfriend after he got diagnosed. Only Sofiane and Idriss stayed with him. He couldn’t wish for better friends, honestly. They were supportive, ready to learn about his illness and help him through the dark phases. But sometimes they couldn’t help. Sometimes it just got so bad that no one could drag him out until it was over. 
He felt fresh tears streaming down on his cheeks, making him even more angry. It was always like this, during depressed times he got mad easily, saying things to his loved ones he would have never said. His mind were fucked, ignoring any kind of sense, just letting the anger drive it. He looked at his phone, it was buzzing again. Ignoring it would be better, but he saw Lucille’s name on it, so he dragged himself to the table and picked up the call.
“Eliott, thank god! Why aren’t you answering my messages? I was worried.” she said, sounding just like their mother. Eliott sighed, letting the cold breeze freshing his body.
“I don’t wanna talk right now.” he said quietly, voice completely hoarse thanks to the amount of weed he smoked and the crying.
“What is going on? You’re having an episode?” she asked now even more worried than before.
“Lucille, just leave me alone!” he said, raising his voice a little. He had no patience for this bullshit right now. Can’t he just lay down on the couch and wait for the end? He didn’t wanted this, he wanted Lucas, but it was impossible.
“Eliott, listen here, I am your sister and I’m just...” 
He had enough, hung up on his sister and threw the phone on the couch, kicking into the coffee table. He ignored the pain that spread in his feet. Even that was better than the aching in his chest. The voice in his head was screaming Lucas’ name over and over again. 
He didn’t remember when he fell asleep, but he woke up laying half on the couch, half on the floor. His back was hurting like a bitch, just like his neck. This wasn’t the ideal bed for such a tall person like him, but he couldn’t care less. Walking to the kitchen was fairly easy this time, the force that was pulling him down yesterday seemed to be almost gone. He made himself a strong coffee, then lit a cigarette. He wasn’t hungry at all, being sure that if he would force anything down, it wouldn’t stay long. 
After he had his little morning routine, he walked back to the living room, sitting on the couch. He had to get up for a second, since he felt something under his butt. It was his phone, still being where he threw it last night. He sighed, putting on the table, not even bothering to check his messages or missed calls. As he lit another cigarette, putting it between his lips, he grabbed a sketchbook and a pencil, starting to draw. It was his only way to let out his emotions without talking to anyone. Art was his way to speak into the world.
Hours passed, the living room floor was covered with crumpled papers. Eliott was crying again, throwing the sketchbook away and curling up on the couch. He couldn’t stop drawing that crying hedgehog, like his brain tried to make him feel guilty. It required a lot of self control to not pick up his phone and call Lucas immediately, begging him to come back. He was the only one that could ease this pain, but Eliott was sure that the boy could never handle his bipolarity. Especially not these days when he was mad, sad and just not himself. He can’t let Lucas suffer even more. It was already painful enough knowing that he got bullied in school because of him. 
He fell asleep on the couch yet again, but this time he had a dream. A dream that showed him moments from his past. It hurt him, but at least he could see Lucas again. That adorable face of his, with that sweet haircut.
Eliott walked into school, he wasn’t really in the mood to talk to anyone, but he had to put on a fake smile. The worst side of being tall and handsome is that girls will always find the way to cross your path, even if you try to avoid them. And Eliott tried his very best for sure, but the girls in this school were like octopuses, sticking to him without letting him breathe. 
“Good morning, Eliott!” jumped in front of him a very, very blonde and smiley girl. He tried to remember her name, he really did, but at this state of mind, he couldn’t give any fucks. 
“Hey!” he said, trying not to sound as bored and frustrated as he actually felt. 
“I was wondering if you wanted to join us to the first common room meeting.” she said, handing him a little leaflet. It was really well made, pretty background, readable letters and just nicely put together. Eliott took it and stuffed in his pocket without reading it. 
“I’ll see if I have time.” he mumbled and walked past the girl now. 
As he stepped into the building, he saw him, that beautiful boy. He was packing his books into his locker, not realizing that Eliott watched him, so he used his chance to check him out. He was short, looking almost like a kid with that spikey haircut. He had a pretty face and Eliott couldn’t imagine how soft his skin could be. But the thing that catched his attention were those bright blue eyes. He felt like this boy wasn’t even real. How can one human being has such unnaturally bright blue eyes? Like the ocean. And Eliott was ready to jump into it and swim around. 
He got stratled when someone smacked his back with a loud “Hey, dude”. He was ready to punch that person right in the face, but his eyes met with Alex, his school friend. This guy could be a bit annoying and sometimes as smart as the rock on the bottom of the ocean, but Eliott liked his company. They got closer after his best friend, Charles went off to London with his girlfriend. 
“Morning, dude.” Eliott replied with a small, but this time totally honest smile. 
“Oh, hey, Lucas!” Alex yelled now and walking past Eliott went right to the short boy. He got really pissed now. He was aware of that they were friends, but it still made him mad that Alexandre could just walk up to Lucas, have a handshake and be all cool with it. And the way Lucas smiled at him was not helping him calm down. That sweet, toothy grin was something Eliott could kill people for.
“Alex! You’re gonna be late.” he yelled a bit too angrily, walking to his friend and grabbing his arm, avoiding to look at the short boy. He would get soften from those big blue eyes. It was best to avoid awkward situations like that.
“Damn, you are really grumpy today, huh?” Alex said, raising an eyebrow and still not moving from Lucas, who was holding a book to his chest. 
“Just go, Alex. I don’t wanna see your asshole friend anyways.” Lucas said suddenly, his words spreading like venom in Eliott’s chest. Yeah, he kept forgetting that his crush hated his guts.
“Not like I wanna talk to someone who can barely peek through grass.” Eliott spit out suddenly, cursing inside his head for saying such things, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m shocked they let you in without supervision.” 
“What did you just say?!” Lucas huffed, sounding really angry. Eliott looked at his face now, he was frowning, his hair reaching straight up to the ceiling. He looks like a cute hedgehog. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you have hearing problems.” he said now, playful grin appearing on his face. Maybe he can just tease him like this, having a little fun and still staying away. 
“Okay, calm down, Lucas!” Alex said, stepping inbetween them. Eliott was a bit disappointed, he would love to see Lucas coming at him. Like a baby hedgehog.
“Yeah, I don’t want you to get hurt, little one.” Eliott said, fueling the anger in Lucas even more, but Alex turned around and grabbed his arm now.
“Come on, Eliott. We’re going.” he said now seriously and pulled him away, making sure that he stays between the boys as they leave.
Eliott looked behind him as he got farther from his sweet crush. Lucas smashed close his locker and leant to it, looking really upset still, and it really hurt the tall boy’s heart to see him like this. He wanted to run back and hold him in his arms until he smiles again, but it was impossible. Not just because the boy hated him, but because he can’t let himself fall in love again. His heart broke once, it can’t happen again. No one can love him. He was crazy, not able to make someone happy.
Eliott’s eyes opened so quickly, he started to feel dizzy and almost fell off the couch. His head hurt, so did his chest still. He felt a tiny bit hungry, so he walked to the kitchen, making some toast. It was just so exhausting to grab two slices of bread and put them in the toaster, waiting for it to be ready. Minutes went like slow hours. His brain was spinning around, keep showing him Lucas’ face. His soft smile, his messy hair in the morning, his ocean eyes. He could remember his smell like he was standing right there in front of him. 
He noticed that the toaster made a little noise, shooting out the roasted bread slices. He grabbed one and started to slowly much on it. It had no taste, like he was eating ash, but his body needed some food, so he ate both slices. He could feel sweat covering him, his face felt weird from all the dried tears, so it was time to take a shower. 
Every step was an eternity, it took him long minutes to take off his clothes and stand into the shower. He turned on the water, letting the warm drops soaking his body. Everything felt so numb. He closed his eyes to protect him from the water, not moving to get the shower gel or anything. He eventually got out when he was feeling cold. Grabbing a towel and wrapping around himself. He looked in the mirror, not recognizing the face he saw there. Dark cirles around his eyes, the bruise on his left cheek seeming blue-greenish, skin pale and looking thin like paper, his hair more chaotic than ever, water dripping from it. 
He sighed, closing his eyes and falling to the bathroom floor. The pain in his bones resonated with the aching in his heart. He pulled up his knees, wrapping his arms around them, crying uncontrollably. His body was shaking from cold and the gapsing between ugly sobs. 
He was in his bed now, hearing noises from far away. He slowly opened his eyes, feeling like the sun is blinding him. He turned away from the window, looking at the door of his room. Lucille was stading there, arms crossed, eyebrows frowned. She looked both mad and worried, it was her speciality to show those emotions at once. Eliott groaned, knowing that he won’t have a free minute without her supervision.
“Don’t groan at me, Eliott Demaury!” she said, walking to the bed. “I’m here to help my stupid brother and that’s what I get?” 
“I didn’t ask for your help.” he mumbled, pulling the blanket over his head.
“Well, you have to deal with it, because I’m not going anywhere.” she said seriously. “Sofiane and Idriss are worried themselves sick. They called me five times today just to know if you’re okay.” she sighed, it was kinda reassuring that his friends still cared even if he was completely ignoring them. “Sofiane told me about the boy. What is his name? Isak?” 
“Lucas.” he mumbled from under the blanket. 
“Yeah, Lucas. He told me what he heard. I can’t believe you got yourself into this again.” 
“Can you shut the hell up?” He yelled now, pushing off the blanket, looking furiously at his sister. “I don’t need your lecture right now, Lucille!” 
“Oh really?” she raised her eyebrows. “Look where it got you. Being a mess yet again.” 
“I can’t fucking help it! I’m not controlling my damn heart, you know! I tried to stay away! I really tried, but I couldn’t. I screwed up.” he said, voice getting quieter with each word, eyes filling up with tears again.
“Oh, Eliott...” she sighed and walked to the bed, sitting next to her brother, pulling him into her arms. Eliott took a deep breath, burying his face into her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her hands were slowly running up and down on his back, helping him to calm down a little. 
They stayed like this for long minutes before Eliott laid back on the bed. His sister tried to make him eat something, but he wasn’t hungry at all. His body was craving for sleep, but his mind just couldn’t stop. He was laying there, eyes half open, suffering from Lucas’ smell that was sticking to his pillow like a stubborn stain. 
It was friday morning, he forced himself to go to school, since he was feeling fairly okay yesterday. He hoped that none of the girls wants to talk to him this time. He was feeling like shit and not ready to even see a glimpse of Lucas. But he couldn’t miss too much days, or he would have to repeat the year. It was already hard for him to start over his first year at a brand new school, but since he basically had an episode in front of his class, he couldn’t stay there. People were laughing at him, making fun of his breakdown. If it weren’t for Sofiane and Idriss, he probably would have killed himself then and there. It was just too much.
He walked to the school yard, people were talking, laughing even, but he could hear some whispers and some students carefully glancing at him. He ignored them, trying to make it to his locker without freaking out. They are staring because of the incident with Lucas. They don’t know about your illness. They don’t know. 
He was standing at his locker, his body moving on its own, packing books in his bag and out of his bag automatically. He got scared when someone tapped his shoulder gently. He looked behind, eyes meeting the worried face of Alex. He studied Eliott’s face, spending long time to examine the bruise on his cheek, then he started talking. 
“Are you okay, dude?” he asked softly, putting a hand on Eliott’s shoulder. 
“Yeah, of course.” he said, voice sounding so robotic and fake, but that was all he could force out of himself. 
“Listen, if you need someone to talk to, I am here.” he said seriously, squeezing his shoulder a little and then letting go. “Breakups are tough shit, but you will manage it.” 
“Everyone knows about it, huh?” he asked, surprising Alex with the sudden bitterness. 
“Pretty much, yeah. Whoever took that picture made sure that everyone sees it.” he said honestly and got startled when Eliott slammed his fist into the lockers. “Bro, calm down...”
“What about Lucas?” he asked, hoping that Alex knows anything.
“He’s pretty fucked up, he doesn’t talk to anyone, not coming to eat at lunch break... But he had been to school everyday.” he said, shrugging a little. “People try to pick on him, but when they noticed that Lucas is not listening to them they stopped.” 
“Good. Good.” he mumbled to himself. 
“Listen, dude, I know Lucas can be too much. Hitting you was pretty shitty of him, since you had nothing to do with those damn pictures, but he cares about you a lot. I’ve never seen him being so down before...” 
“This is much more complicated than that, Alex.” he said seriously, looking into his friend’s eyes. “I’m doing this for the both of us.” 
And he had to believe that this is the best for him and Lucas. They could never be happy together. The boy couldn’t trust him even when he gave him his whole heart, and he couldn’t trust Lucas not to leave him after he sees him at his worst state. This was safe, less painful. Cutting things off before it gets too serious. This is the best for both of us.
Okay, I hope you guys liked this short chapter from Eliott’s POV. I am sorry that it’s full of angst again, it will be better soon, but I felt like I had to write this to make it clear that not just Lucas, but Eliott is hurting too. His decision was the best for them, at least he thinks it was. Feel free to leave any comment about this, I always love to read your reactions to my new chapters.
Bisous
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Text
Pt16
(Hints of citrus. More technical & discussions around consent. No action beyond pg-13)
Forgot an overnight bag.
16:03
I can bring my shoreleave bag to your place?
16:05
K. Have a drawer for you.
16:05
Meet me by the lockers?
16:06
NP.
16:06
Shiro heads in, exultant. The Holts scold him, and Iverson just shakes his head and gives him dirty looks over Colleen's shoulder. Shiro technically isn't his to scold anymore.
When the Holts are done, Shiro gives Iverson a rueful look. "Sir?"
"You're retired, Shirogane. I don't yell at civilians."
Shiro tilts his head a bit and raises an eyebrow.
"Leastaways not the ones that have earned my respect."
"Well. Thank you then, sir. For not taking the piss out of me, sir."
"Shirogane, you were my commanding officer on the Altas. You can dispense with the sir nonsense."
Grinning, "thank you sir."
"Get out of here. Your boyfriend is waiting."
Shiro does a little mocking salute, and heads inside. Matt joins him on the way.
"You gonna push Curt up against a wall and take him, or will it be safe for me to get in a shower? I'm dusty and sweaty."
"It's safe," Shiro says dryly. "We would never do that in there anyway."
"You and Adam did plenty of things in plenty of places, and half the cadets knew."
"Not the locker room," Shiro protests. He doesn't want to explain to Matt why they'd done whatever whenever. With the degenerative disease, and the medicine messing him up... He hadn't been able to get an erection with any reliability. So they'd taken advantage of it whenever it happened. Which meant they had visited several broom closets and on one notable occasion, the roof. Just like he's sick of people wanting to know how sleeping with Curtis goes. They're not. So far Shiro is pretty sure he has gotten it up maybe twice since he was first captured by the Galra.
It had certainly been impossible in captivity. Not that he'd tried. And then after, he'd been busy. And had almost no alone time. No time to try. And no interest, if he's being honest. He'd never felt like it. And now with Curtis, his body still isn't working. It had once, maybe he's pretty sure. Maybe twice.
"Not the locker room... But the roof? Most broom closets... An empty classroom. One of the teacher's offices...and apparently some bleachers?"
"The bleachers was rumor and hearsay. And the office... Was Adam's."
"That doesn't make it better," Matt makes a face. "You guys were disgusting."
"Well. I suppose Curtis and I have a low bar to step over in terms of not upsetting you."
"Sorry. I didn't think about it. Are you okay to even talk about Adam?"
"Yeah. I can handle it."
"Oh. Quiznak. Shiro is... Is Curtis okay with it?"
"Yeah," Shiro grins a little. "Curtis kinda knew him. It's not like we compare our exes to each other. It's just nice sometimes to be able to talk about the good stuff. And we've talked about why Adam and I broke up."
Matt nods a little. He knows Curtis and his previous partner had been very serious. And knows how he died, too. So there's less negative notes to compare on Curtis' side. He wonders how Shiro feels about it. "You guys were good until you weren't," he shrugs.
Shiro shrugs back. He doesn't want to talk about it with Matt. He's told Curtis that he'd put himself first. Adam had been supportive until he'd wanted to come first once in a while. Shiro doesn't regret going to Kerberos. For all he wishes they hadn't been caught by the Galra. Voltron... Doesn't make the torture and blood and death worth it, not really. But it was amazing. The Atlas was amazing. The Coalition. So much good coming out of so much bad.
So many amazing experiences. The views from the bridge of the Castle of Lions. Sitting with Allura just watching the stars. He's seen entire galaxies they didn't even know existed. Met aliens. Seen planets with names he can barely pronounce. Beautiful flora and fauna...
But it was good to feel the wind in his hair. The grit and sand scrape across his skin. It's nice to be home.
Choosing to focus on that, he pushes the door open to the locker room, nose wrinkling at the familiar stench of sweaty bodies. rank flight suits, old socks, and swamp crotch.
Curtis is half changed into civvies and his bag is on the bench ready to grab and go.
"That's a face," Curtis teases, finishing pulling on his pants and fastening them. Stuffing some things into his bag and zipping it shut, he goes over to Takashi and kisses him. "You smell like you belong in here anyway," he teases gently.
"How can you tell?" He points out.
Matt makes a face at both of them, and heads to his locker. "I'll catch you guys later, I need to wash up."
"Yeah, see you soon?" Shiro suggests.
"Definitely. Don't be a stranger."
Curtis kisses Takashi's cheek. "You okay if I shower at your place? I hate the showers here."
"You're welcome to treat my place like your own," he points out. Leaning into Curtis he feels warm when Curtis puts an arm around his shoulders. It's nice to be openly loved.
They walk out. It takes a bit, some people wanting to greet Shiro. Some people happily ribbing Curtis about what he's going home to.
When they get to Curtis' car he squeezes Takashi's hand. "Does it bug you when they tease us about sex?" He's noticed his partner get more withdrawn as it went on.
"It seems good natured," he shrugs. He doesn't want to talk about the embarassing reason it makes him uncomfortable. For all Curtis kind of already knows. He hasn't just said right out that he can't get it up. They talked about how he feels like his body maybe doesn't work right and he's uncomfortable in it. For all that's far less true now. Between Curtis, the 'family' reunion the day before, pulling off the cliff stunt on a whole new piece of technology. He feels pretty good. He feels more like himself.
When they get back to his place, Shiro makes a face at Curtis when he plugs his nose. "I can smell you in here, now, for sure. In the locker room it was hard to tell."
"I pulled off the impossible today," he counters, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I think a little smell can be forgiven." He leans in to kiss Curtis, who kisses him back.
Curtis kisses him back, wrapping his arms around Takashi. He's never seen him seem so alive and thrilled. Nuzzling his neck, Curtis smiles. It's not that he hasn't seen Captain Shirogane electrified and in charge. He's seen him flush with a succesful military manouever, seen him cheer after winning a pitched battle. But there was always something behind it. Some darkness, or guilt... Pain. Not this. Not this time. This is different. The victory is open and innocent. Takashi is obviously pleased with himself.
"Hm. Reminds me," he pulls away and swats Takashi upside the head. "Don't you dare just drive off a cliff with no warning ever again, you jackass."
"I knew what I was doing."
"I knew you'd have no problems driving that thing. I just didn't expect you to do that. No one did!"
"It was kind of hot though, right?" He starts kissing Curtis again. They end up against a wall. He's pushed Curtis into it, not thinking.
"You're always hot," Curtis reminds him. He kisses along the other man's jaw.
Shiro's breath catches and he pulls Curtis in closer. Kissing harder, he wishes Curtis would let him move in closer. Their hips aren't close together and he wants them to be. Wanting to tug up Curtis' shirt, take things further, he's barely thinking.
Curtis reaches down to tug Takashi forward by his belt loops, bringing their bodies flush. He moans a little, pushing into his partner a little harder.
Shiro whimpers a little, needing more. It sort of pops into his brain that he's rock hard and trying to figure out how to grind on Curtis without really being able to move. Curtis has him trapped, fingers still hooked tightly in his pants.
"Takashi," Curtis pulls back. "Hey, slow down." He knows a big part of his reluctance to go past kissing with Takashi is how uncomfortable and miserable he's been. Curtis doesn't want sex to become a coping mechanism or crutch in their relationship.
"Curtis," he protests, confused.
"I will kiss you all you want," Curtis promises. "I just don't know if we're ready for the next step."
"Curtis," he turns red. Taking his hand and tugging it close to his groin, he looks down. He doesn't bring their hands to even touch. Just. Close. "I might... I might not be able to, when we're ready."
Pulling his fingers free of Takashi's belt loops, he gently slips them under his chin and lifts. Gives him a wicked grin, "oh trust me. That won't be an issue."
"This... The...I haven't...I haven't since...you don't understand," he stumbles.
It takes a few more seconds of incoherent rambling before Curtis understands what Takashi is trying to tell him. "That long?" He asks, almost concerned. "Oh wow."
"I don't... It just doesn't happen anymore. I... I want... I want to be with you," he says almost plaintively.
"You can't....?" Curtis makes an obscene gesture.
"No..." He turns a darker red, and can feel the heat rising off his face. "Maybe now? Without the arm, and my shoulder healing? I don't..." He shrugs. "Too late now," he points out, glancing down.
"Well we both need to shower," Curtis shrugs. "Maybe I could help you out a little?" He suggests, kissing Takashi's neck and catching his earlobe for a second.
Shiro feels like his whole body is electrified. "You won't be disappointed when it doesn't work?"
Giving him a wry look, "I want to have sex with you. I just think we need to have several conversations before we do any of it. There's some stuff I hate and there might be things you don't like. And for both of us, one wrong move could be a serious trigger. So. Do I want you? Yes. Gods yes. When it happens will I rock your world so hard you forget your own name? Hell yes," he grins when Takashi turns red again. He'd just almost faded to a light pink. "But, I want to wait until we've both talked extensively."
"I'm gonna hold you to that," he mumbles. "Do you wanna order take out or should we cook something?" He resigns himself to nothing happening.
"Let's see how we feel once we're both clean?"
"You're a pain."
"I'll help you through it, you just have to do the work yourself," Curtis says patiently, and watches understanding dawn on the other man's face.
"Won't that be some kind of torture? I don't think I'd have the willpower if I was in your place," he points out, for all he has butterflies in his stomach.
"It'll be fine. Who said I was just gonna watch and not handle myself?"
Swallowing hard, he feels a few minutes of panic. "Curtis... What if I just can't?"
Curtis' first instinct is just to dismiss it. But he can see it's genuinely stressing his partner out. "Let me worry about that. That's my job," he kisses Takashi gently. "And if it doesn't work, we'll try a bunch of different stuff until it does." He kisses over his neck, catches his earlobe, and gently starts to tug his shirt off. His hands wander up and over Shiro's scarred chest, before slipping around to his back to pull him closer. His shirt slides back down, covering Curtis' hands.
Kissing him slowly, and gently, he holds him close. It's not about how hard and fast they can kiss. It's about how much they love each other.
Eventually, Curtis pulls back. Takashi's eyes are lidded heavily as he looks at Curtis with a mix of affection, lust, and contentment. He's completely out of it. Leaning back in for more kisses, his lips feel swollen and they were being gentle. He vaguely wonders how long they've been at it.
He's trapped in some limbo between utter peace and desperate lust. "I need you to kiss me like that more often," he says against Curtis' lips.
"Of course," Curtis promises. Gently pulling Takashi's shirt off, he kisses along his collar bone. Soft. No demands. Just enjoying the feel of his partner's skin under his lips and tongue. Hooking his fingerips into the front of his waistband, Curtis starts moving slowly backwards towards the bathroom, tugging Takashi with him.
(I might just delete it all? I dunno.)
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