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bakubub · 3 years ago

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Best friend rigs the Secret Santa for Bakugo and yourself to get one another...

A/N: Hullo everybody!! This is part 2 (find part one HERE) of this Pinterest Prompt and part 3 will (hopefully) be the final part. I honestly thought this would be a 800 word fic but now we're barreling towards almost 5k all together whoops lol-

Warnings: Just a few swears here and there, SFW, its literally all Bakusquad shenanigans.

Word count: abt 1.5k, ENJOY <3

"Soooooo~ Who d'ya get for the cringle?" Kaminari asks, leaning back on his chair dangerously to look back at me, sitting on the desk behind him. I raise my eyebrows, since I can't just raise the one, and flick my pen expertly in my hand.

"Mr. Aizawa," I answered seriously. "I'm thinking of getting him another sleeping bag. The musty yellow one isn't really his colour."

Looking genuinely confused, Kaminari looks around to see if anyone else overheard our conversation.

I laugh at him, and kick his chair forward, causing him to shriek as he sits squarely on his butt. I look down to see a folded note on my desk, opening to read it as Mr Aizawa tells us to settle down;

Lover boy was TOTALLY just greasing off Kaminari for making you laugh. I think someone's still jealous from the whole sleeping incident...

Catching Mina's eye, I give her an I don't think so look, which she promptly rolls her eyes at. Its been a whole weekend since the 'sleeping incident', where I had woken up with Kaminari's arms wrapped around my waist and his head nestled on my stomach. Accidentally of course. We, along with Bakugo and Kirishima, had fallen asleep on the couch in the common room, talking late last Friday night.

It really wasn't a big deal... Kaminari apologised several times. I got over it, he got over it, and I don't see why Bakugo, whom Mina just loves to call 'lover boy', would even care.

Plus, I have bigger problems. Like what to get said lover boy for the Christmas Cringle we were supposed to be exchanging this Saturday. He's literally impossible to buy for. Well, I could always just buy him a new pair of shorts or something, but since I've had a crush on him since literally the first day of school, it needs to be perfect.

So far I've thought of a cookbook, an apron, a scarf since he's always wearing the brown one, or maybe even a matching beanie; then again his hair has such personality I don't even know if he CAN put a beanie over those suspiciously natural spikes...

"Hellooooo, come on, Aizawa dismissed us," Mina says, nudging my shoulder.

I snap out of my daze and gather my things, following out of the nearly empty classroom.

"Decided on what to get monsieur Hothead yet?" I sigh, already having predicted this question.

"Nope," I say, popping the p as we walk to the dorm rooms. "I'm thinking of maybe getting-"

"Hey girls, wanna meet at the common room at 6 for a rematch of UNO?" Kaminari asks, coming up from behind us and slinging an arm over my and Mina's shoulders like he always does.

"Yeah sure, we're down." Mina answers, pinching him in the side so he lets us out of his grasp. We duck away, laughing and continuing our banter, before I catch Bakugo's gaze.

"You coming too, Bakugo?" I ask, walking up next to him, ignoring my heart trying to escape its cage.

"Coming where?" He grumbles, still looking disgruntled and angry.

"We're playing UNO around 6 today in the common room. Come on, it'll be fun," I say, trying to persuade him into coming, since he never usually participates.

"HELL NO! I don't have time to waste, especially with you extras," He yells at me. I huff, rolling my eyes and continuing to ignore the feeling of my heart beating in my eyeballs, as I grumble, "you never do," and walk back next to Mina, who was now somehow in a water fight with Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero.

Overall certain that I didn't let my nerves peek through while talking to him, I don't register what's happening as Sero grabs Oijiro's water bottle out of his bag, unscrews the lid, then promptly dumps it over my head.

With Mina, Kirishima, Kaminari and even Bakugo gasping in the background, I wiped the water off my face, before realising my mascara had probably smudged all over my cheeks and glared at Sero, who was slowly backing away.

I practically growl before chasing him, blindly grabbing my own water bottle out of my bag and drenching him, messing up his styled hair which has him shrieking "sorry, I'm so sorry!" and has me cackling in sweet, sweet revenge.

---

"PLUS FOUR?! AGAIN KIRISHIMA! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Mina screeches as she pounds Kirishima's arm from next to him, who is laughing and judging from his reaction, barely feeling her punches. I know from experience, that Mina punches hard. He has to be really tough not to show an inkling of pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just really have to win this one!" He says, shooting a guilty smile Mina's way. Maybe he just doesn't feel pain in general...? I stare at him with suspicion as Mina huffs and she rolls her eyes at him, promptly dropping a four plus for the next person in our circle, who just happened to be me.

"Hey! Not cool, hypocrite." I mutter.

"I had to get my anger out somehow. I'm pretending you're Kirishima. Go on, pick up those cards, you slimy rat," Mina says smugly.

Giving her a confused look at her weird logic, I continued the game, Shoji and Hagakure also having joined in half way.

Just as I'm about to announce UNO, Bakugo stomps through the common room and sits right in between myself and Mina, crossing his legs on the floor and leaning back on his two hands.

"BAKUBRO! YOU CAME!" Kirishima yells excitedly, Kaminari and Sero also whooping and cheering.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up. I finished my work and came to see what you idiots were doing." He says, voice gruff but not screaming for once.

I raise my brows at him, and he scowls and looks the other way, not being able to face me after he so rudely rejected my invitation a few hours ago.

"Oh please, you just couldn't handle the FOMO." I say teasingly, smirking at him without fully turning my face so the others can hear.

Sero stifles a laugh and Kaminari looks confused before the dots connect and he also has his hand clamped around his mouth.

"She has a green 7," is all he says, a sadistic look of satisfaction overtaking his features. It takes a moment for all of us to realise what he just said.

Mina cackles as she changes the colour to red, effectively stopping me from winning the game.

Shooting him a dirty look, I lean over to grab another card, simultaneously elbowing him hard in the shin, which he doesn't even react to.

What is it with these guys and their weirdly high pain tolerance?

Ignoring him now, we continue the game, Kirishima practically slamming his last card on top of the deck. "I WON, I WON, man that was so MANLY," He celebrates as I see Mina rolling her eyes and silently fuming. I begin to shuffle and hand out the cards deliberately skipping Bakugo, which doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"Oi, where are my cards?" He asks, annoyance evident in his tone as Kirishima continues to gloat in the background about how manly his win was and Kaminari complaining about how he never "gets the good cards." When I don't respond, Bakugo steals my cards from in front of me, leaning forward to play with the others.

Snarling, I grab my cards out of his hand, causing him to snarl back, until we're fighting for the 7 cards.

"What are you guys doing, there's a whole ass deck here, you know," Sero says, eyebrows raised and nudging Kirishima.

"These. Ones. Are. MINE." I gasp out, my knee coming around to jab him in his side as his hand pushes me down from my sternum. Oxygen knocked out of my lungs, I gasped for air as I tried to hold the cards out of his reach, my hero training kicking in as I snake my other arm around the back of his neck to hold him in an upside down headlock. Trying to push his forehead onto the ground, I give the cards to Mina, who laughs and takes them, after taking a photo of us.

Having apparently heard the camera click, Bakugo (after struggling a great deal might I smugly add) gets out of my head lock and zones in on Mina. "Delete that photo, Racoon Eyes," He snarls.

"Not in a million years. Awww, look Bakugo are you blushing?" She says, pointing at her phone.

Eyes widening and red creeping up his neck, Bakugo snatches the phone out of her hand and deletes the photo, before getting up and leaving.

"C'mon Bakubro, she's just joking," Kirishima says, following him out.

"Yeah man, you didn't even play a game yet," Sero adds.

"I HAVE STUFF TO DO!" He screams, seemingly going back to his old self.

"Didn't you just say that you finished your homework?" Kaminari asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"SHUT IT, CHARGEBOLT! I DON'T NEED TO EXPLAIN MYSELF TO YOU," he says a tad too harshly, turning slightly to glare at him with bulging eyeballs. Kaminari closes his mouth and shuffles his cards, trying not to set him off again.

"Bakugo-" I start, but when he doesn't turn, I find myself letting him leave.

Staring dejectedly at Mina, she gives me a giddy smile and grabs my phone, going onto her messages and smirking as she shows me the photo he just deleted.

"I sent it to you as soon as I took it. Thank me later," she says, winking, as she gets up to leave, dragging Sero and Kaminari with her.

I look down at the slightly blurry photo, seeing me handing Mina the UNO cards under Bakugo with a desperate expression. He has his hand pressed down on my sternum, straddling my waist and looking down at me, with an unmistakable smile gracing his features. Unless that's just a new way of scowling.

The phone dims and all of a sudden I'm confronted with my own expression on the darkened screen.

A lovesick fool.

That's all I can see.

A/N: Ngl pretty proud of that ending. JUst in case I'm not as slick as I think I am, she meant herself and Bakugo, hehe <3

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

Find part 3 HERE

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou fluff #bakusquad #mha x you #mha katsuki #bnha imagines #bakugo x female reader #mina mha

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diaco1968 · 4 years ago

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REQUEST!!!

@yeehaw87

Ok this took my lazy bottom so long to reply to! I'm sorry!!! And then I accidentally deleted the main request!!! Omg double sorry!

But! Very interesting request to be fair XD

Hope you enjoy.

@yeehaw87

Warnings! Suggestive themes, bj/oral sex, mentions of rude words, awkwardness!

Shoto

• He had taken you home with a cab from the fancy dinner, and you attempting to be polite invited him inside for a drink. His elegance was unnerving to you, making you feel small and trying harder than usual to not mess up. The look on his face. He usually looked unimpressed or just less than amused with everything in general. So, it didn't necessarily mean you were being boring... right?... These thoughts were running through you making your anxiety sky rocket and the butterflies in your belly to go wilder than usual when he leaned in gently for a kiss.

• All the feelings and thoughts doing their part to force your body to relieve you of the sexual tension they created, the simple kiss stirred into a heated makeout session, and that led to his hand sliding up your legs as he turned from his place on the couch to face you fully as he pulled you over and onto his lap, lips never disconnecting as they moulded together feverishly. His hands on your ass, pulled you closer, grinding you over his crotch And of course you wanted more contact on certain other areas so you started by unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off before slowly pushing him on the couch so he was lying on his back now with you straddling his hips. You pulled back from the kiss, panting lightly and straightened up to pull your shirt off over your head.

• Unbeknownst to you, Shoto was quite nervous too. He feared messing up anything with you. The way you always made his heart flutter with any simple thing you did. And surprisingly, when he was nervous he tended to blabber. Averting his eyes from your undressing, with a soft blush he looked up. And blabber he did.

• "Did you know the ceiling needs painting?"

• You already had your shirt off and numbly looked up to see what he was referring to. It sure did. But... were you so boring to him that he found the ceiling more interesting?... looking at the ceiling when you were taking your shirt off?! All your movements froze and tears started welling up in your eyes as you tried getting off of him. His eyes snapped back onto you, catching a glimpse of your watery eyes right before the tears spilled and you turned your head to hide them from him. A choked sob left your lips. And that was the moment he knew he fucked up. Grabbing your hands to prevent you from running off as he sat up with you still in his lap, wrapping you in his shirt and grabbing the sides of your face to wipe your tears off with his thumbs.

• "Oh shit! I'm so sorry! It's not-! I didn't-- I meant! ... I'm such a fucking idiot... I just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable by staring at you..."

• He wrapped his arms around you, pressing you flush to his warm bare chest, rubbing your back while rocking back and forth.

Dabi

• You were sore all over, but the warmth and the aftershocks of the pleasure earlier still running through your deliciously worked out body had you feeling amazing. Added to the way he breathed on the back of your neck and had his arms wrapped tightly around you from behind, his extraordinary warmth radiating off his body soothing your muscles, made your first ever experience such an amazing thing. Your emotions were in overdrive along with your sensations, all thoughts you had before this whole thing still lingering and mixing in with your new thoughts. You had been pretty new at this, so the idea of messing up embarrassingly, in front of Dabi of all people, who looked quite experienced in the sexual field.

• You did not mess up. He was kinda sorta patient with you, and it turned out pretty amazing.

• Remembering the whole thing, you got a little excited and biting your lower lip, you sneakily grinded your ass back onto his crotch, finding surprisingly that he was as excited as you.

"Wanna go again doll?"

He rasped in your ear making you shiver with a smile as his hips started moving, humping your ass, sliding his hardening shaft over and in between your cheeks.

"I'm surprised you would want to go again with me. I know I'm not that much of a pro at this."

"Are you kidding?"

You don't know why you decided to joke, you were emotionally not in the place to do so yet, or receive a snarky reply. Cause face it, Dabi is the king of snarky replies.

• "You're good enough to do this for a living."

• You blinked, halting as you tried to make sense of his words. And of course they registered in your head the wrong way. Do this for a living... this?! Did he mean you were only good for sex?... like ...

• You started to pull away as you tried to pry his arms off of you. He was surprised but he wasn't going to hold you by force. Until he heard you sniffle and his arms tightened back around you as he sat up.

• "What the fuck? Are you okay? Did I hurt you or something?"

• He was looking for any out of control burn marks he might've accidentally left on you.

• "No! Let me go, I better get to work then huh? Got to make a living..."

• He paused. A moment of uncomfortable awkward silence staring at your face with a pair of tear streams running down your face before he burst out laughing, much to your annoyance, and hugged you forcefully until you calmed down.

• "You silly little thing. It was a compliment! I meant to say you are good... maybe I said it wrong... sorry. You are sexy AND amazing."

Bakugou

• You were slightly older than him (...just... just imagine plz l...even one minute XD) and despite that he barged in right inside your life so boldly, you just had to give him what he wanted. You liked him, he didn't look younger and he definitely didn't act younger, so you were definitely interested in him. C'mon he was hot, who were you trying to fool.

• As you dropped to your knees in front of him seductively, sensually running your fingers down his biceps, hes pecs, his abs and his hips before cupping his ass, drawing a hiss out of him. You locked eyes with him as your teeth grabbed onto the zipper of his pants, pulling them down, holding his heavy gaze and fluttering your eyelashes at him. Your fingers moved and unbuttoned the pants, pulling them down along with his boxers, his hard cock springing out and standing to attention as it leaked precum.

• "Oh my, look how excited this little boy is by little old me."

• He rolled his eyes in annoyance, fed up with your snarky age comments. It wasn't like it mattered that you were older or anything. Annoying little brat that you acted like. And Katsuki being, well, Katsuki, he even took this age thing as a competition. And he couldn't really win it so it got him grumpy.

• "Shut up and put that mouth to good use, will ya?!"

• Seeing you chuckle his fingers tangled in your hair and guided you over to his cock, tapping the tip on your lips a few times before you opened your mouth to let him in. Your cheeks hollowed out around his length as your throat constricted around him, your hand fisting the length you couldn't fit down your throat in time with the bobbing of your head.

• "Fuck ..."

• Gods he loved what you did with that mouth. It was like magic. Such an expert performanc, always making him hiss and whimper and curse in pleasure. And pleasure is a distracting thing for common sense.

• "You definitely look younger than you feel anyway."

• With a surprised slurp you came to a sudden halt and pulled away. He tried to reach out and hold your head in place but you dodged his attempt and stared up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, what the hell did he mean you felt old?! What does feeling old even mean? Are you not fun enough for him anymore?! Your eyes glossed over and he could tell it wasn't just your gag reflex as tears pulled in your eyes, voice already strained.

• "The fuck did you just say?..."

• He opened his mouth and closed it again, too shocked by the outcome. He had never seen you this upset. He had meant to compliment you...

• As the haze of pleasure was chased away by your haunting sad expression and spilling tears he put the pieces together.

• And he grabbed your hands pulling you up on your feet and hugging you tightly, burying his nose in your hair.

• "Oh my fucking god I'm such an idiot! I meant you are so amazing with your mouth ... and experience comes with age ... and you don't look old... fuck I'm sorry I'll just shut up..."

#Request #Todoroki x reader #Bakugou x reader #Dabi x reader #Shoto x reader #Bakugou Katsuki #Shoto Todoroki #Dabi

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bumblebee-moreno · 3 years ago

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Awkward meetings (GN!reader)

Request: "Awkward first meeting for all the boys" and "Awkward first meeting and You lost something very important to you and they’re helping you look for it with Frankie Morales" for @luminescentlily

(Boys included are: Din, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, Frankie Morales, Max Phillips, Marcus P, and Marcus M.

Warnings: None?

A/N: Sorry this took so long to write. I had to leave a few boys out due to writer's block (Ezra, Tovar, and Zach Wellison), and I wanted to get this posted rather than continuing to stare at the screen in hopes of my brain miraculously functioning. To make up for my lack of inspiration at least a little bit, I added Marcus Moreno. Hope that's ok :)

Din Djarin

You feel a tug at your pant leg. Looking down, you are greeted by a pair of large watery eyes and big green ears. “Well hello there,” you smile, crouching down to be closer to the small child. “Where’s your family?”

He simply responds by lifting his arms towards you. You take that to mean he’d like to be lifted up. Scanning through over the crowded marketplace, you search for someone who the kid might belong to. You really have no idea what you’re looking for, having never seen anything like him, but you search nonetheless.

“Hey!” an angry voice calls out behind you. You whirl around, and before you know what’s happening, the child has been torn from your grasp and there’s a blaster to your head.

“I wasn’t going to hurt him I swear, I was just trying to find his family,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender.

The figure in front of you doesn’t respond at first, keeping his blaster pointed at you while he inspects the child for injury.

“Why did you have him?” The voice from under the helmet demands.

“I just found him by himself and I wanted to make sure he found his family,” you explain, voice shaking. “Are you his… Does he belong to you?”

“… yes.” He cautiously returns his blaster to its holster.

“I’m sorry,” you relax. “I didn’t mean to scare you. He’s just so… small. I didn’t want him to stay lost.”

The Mandalorian clutches the kid close to his chest as if he’s afraid they’ll be separated again. “Thank you.” He nods his head just enough for you to see the motion.

Javier Peña

“Shit, I’m going to be so fucking late,” you mutter to yourself, walking as fast as you can without sending the tall stack of papers in your arms flying.

On your way down the hall, you start going down your mental checklist.

‘Closed the window so the cat doesn’t escape? Check.’

‘Turned off the lights? Check.’

‘Locked the front door? Fuck.’

You stop in your tracks. How could you forget to lock your front door? You spin on your heel and run back towards your apartment, your one free hand switching between searching for your keys and adjusting the unstable tower balanced on your other arm.

In your haste to get your apartment locked so you can get to work on time, you fail to watch where you’re going.

Your body smacks into another. You fall backwards, losing your grip on the meticulously organised files. They scatter across the floor, completely losing the order you’d spent all night putting them in. The wind is knocked out of you for just long enough to hear the man you ran into grumping about how you should watch where you’re going.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m running late, I should’ve been paying more attention.” You pull yourself to your knees and start gathering your work off the floor. You’d normally stand and make sure the man you ran into is okay, but things at work are tense as it is, and being even later than you already are isn’t going to reflect well on you. Especially now that all of last night’s hard work needs to be done over.

You expect him to get up and walk past you. After his reaction to being practically tackled, you wouldn’t expect him to give you more than a second thought. But then a stack of papers lands on top of the one you’re already holding.

Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “You okay? You hit the ground kind of hard there,” Your neighbour asks.

You swallow thickly. “y-yeah, I’m fine,” you give a shaky smile. “How about you?”

“I’m all right, just running a bit late,” He offers a hasty smile before helping you to your feet. “I gotta get to work, but um, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, momentarily forgetting how late you are.

Agent Whiskey

‘Ugh I really needed this day off,’ you type underneath the photo before pressing send.

You place your phone on the edge of the tub before relaxing back into the warm water.

It isn’t long before your phone buzzes. Your eyes widen in horror at the response:

‘I think you’ve got the wrong number, darlin��.’ It’s paired with a photo of a man you’ve never met.

He is kinda cute though. You’d never think the whole “unironically cowboy” thing could ever work but… No. No. You can’t be thinking that kind of stuff. You just texted a stranger a photo of you in the bath for fuck’s sakes, you can’t be attracted to him after that!

You frantically scroll up to examine the photo you sent, breathing a sigh of relief when you confirm that the photo you sent didn’t have anything too revealing in it; between the angle of the camera and the bubbles in your bath, nothing too embarrassing is visible.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry, that was meant for a friend ’

You pick up the shred of paper your best friend scribbled their new number on while you were at lunch with them yesterday, to figure out what happened.

‘not a problem, It’s a nice distraction from this god awful meeting I’m stuck in’

You frown. ‘You’re in a meeting and you’re texting a total stranger?’

You return your gaze to the phone number in your hand. “what in the fuck,” you say aloud to yourself. The second to last digit. It’s supposed to be a 4. Not a 9.

A shaky photo appears on your phone. It’s obviously taken from peeking just the camera of his phone over the edge of the table.

‘Damn, that looks like a serious meeting, shouldn’t you be paying attention?’ If you were texting at work, especially in a meeting, you’d have your ass handed to you unless someone was dying (and even then, it would depend on what kind of mood your boss is in that day). And this guy is just casually texting you, a stranger, during a meeting with people who look like they make more money weekly than what your whole car is worth.

‘I’m a bit more concerned that I don’t even know the name of the person who texted me such a lovely photo 😉’

‘It’s Y/N.’ you send. ‘And please delete that picture, that’s kinda private’ you ask, crossing your fingers that he respects that.

‘Already done. Mine’s Jack, since you obviously weren’t going to ask 🤠’

A soft smile appears on your face. Maybe it is kind of okay that you accidentally typed in the wrong number. Or… it will be after you (lovingly) cuss out your friend for having such bad handwriting.

Frankie Morales

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself, searching through your pockets. “shitshitshitshitshitshitshit” You swear you just had them. Or… maybe you left them on the counter back at the library?

You turn around to run back, rifling through your bag. You only make it a few steps before you’re knocked backwards to the ground.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurt the moment you catch your breath again. Barely sparing a glance towards the man you ran into, you start gathering your books.

“No, no. I’m sorry,” the man insists. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He helps to gather your books.

“You okay?” he finally asks.

You look up at him and freeze. He’s really cute. In the ‘I give the best hugs in the world’ kind of way.

“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. “I just think I lost my car keys at the library, and I’m running late for lunch with a friend.” You mentally kick yourself. You just ran over the only attractive man you’ve seen since moving here, and then the first thing you do is overshare?

“Oh, did you want some help looking?” he immediately offers.

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs. “I’ve got lunch plans I’m desperately trying to find an excuse to get out of, so you’re helping me, really.”

“Okay, um… sure,” you nod. “an extra set of eyes looking wouldn’t hurt.”

“Cool. I’m Frankie.”

You introduce yourself and shake his outstretched hand.

The two of you make your way back towards the library.

“so…” you break the uncomfortable silence. “Lousy lunch plans, huh?”

“…yeah,” Frankie falls silent for a moment. “A couple of guys I used to serve with invited me out and I didn’t really have an excuse to say no.”

“Don’t get along with them?”

“We used to be friends, but I’m kind of rethinking that lately.”

“Oh,” you debate asking more questions. But then again, he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to, right? “Did… did something happen?”

“Convinced me to go to South America a while back, which would’ve been fine, except we kind of got stuck there, and my wife was left alone with the baby.”

Your stomach dropped at this. You’re not even sure why; you just met the guy, you really have no reason to be disappointed he’s taken.

“Was she at least understanding?” You ask.

“huh?”

“Your wife.”

“Oh,” Frankie chew his lip for a moment. “no. When I got back, she was… possessive. Searching my phone, never letting me go out with friends, that kind of stuff. Separated a few months later.”

“Oh,” you try to ignore the fact that your heart skipped a beat; you can’t be excited—that’s insensitive. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, actually. I was helping you find your keys, and here I am ranting about my whole tragic backstory as if you actually cared.”

“I don’t mind.” You actually like listening to him. But you keep that to yourself.

“You shouldn’t have to listen to all that though—”

“Shit!” you interrupt him. “I’m such an idiot.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Frankie looks like he’s assuming the worst.

“…I didn’t lose my car keys. I walked here. And lunch with my friend is next week.” You chuckle bitterly. “I was so lost in my head I completely forgot she rescheduled. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“It’s okay,” Frankie laughs. You can’t help but smile at his lopsided dimple. “Hey, since you don’t have lunch plans and I want to get out of mine… Can I take you out? You can tell me your life’s story since you already know mine?”

“Sure,” you smile, though half of you is screaming to just leave the country to escape the embarrassment.

Max Phillips

“Ew, no.” you scrunch your nose.

“Hey, you’re the one that lost the bet.” Eva insists.

“I am not kissing a random stranger.” You sweep your gaze across the crowded café.

“It was your idea.” Eva sips her tea.

“That was because I thought I was going to win.” You cross your arms across your chest.

“You don’t get to opt out just because you’re a sore loser.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know them, what if they have a disease or something? Gross.” Your stomach turns at the idea.

“Okay, fine.” Eva sighs. And, for a fleeting moment, you have hope that she’s given in. “Kiss that guy then,” she points.

You turn. “Oh my god, Eva. No.”

“What? He doesn’t look like he has a disease,” Eva shrugs.

“He looks like a frat boy.”

“He’s cute though.” Eva leans in a not-at-all-subtle way to get a clearer view of him.

“I hate you.” You stand up. “And when I’m done, you’re buying me an entire bottle of vodka to wash my mouth with.”

“Yes!” Eva cheers triumphantly. A few people shoot her expressions of annoyance at the outburst.

You storm over to the man and pull him in by the collar. His lips barely brush against yours before you’re stomping back to your friend. Though, for a moment, you actually consider staying to talk to him. Eva was right, he definitely isn’t hard on the eyes.

You push the thought from your mind and collapse back into your seat, scowling at your friend.

“You’re literally the worst human being on the planet,” you huff.

“You’re just being dramatic,” Eva laughs.

“Am not.” Okay… maybe you are, but Eva can’t know that.

“Fine. We’ll go get you a drink once I’m back from the bathroom.” Eva skips off, still laughing about your reaction.

She’s barely out of sight before her seat is filled by the stranger you just kissed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I lost a bet,” you don’t look up at him, instead choosing the glare at a stain on the wooden table.

“I figured as much.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I also figured I have the right to at least know the name of the person who just kissed me.”

You reluctantly introduce yourself, still refusing to make eye contact with the man.

“I’m Max. And, if you want to apologise for kissing me without my consent,” he throws a napkin with a phone number scribbled in red sharpie onto the table in front of you, “You can call me.”

Marcus Pike

You hum quietly to yourself, unable to stop smiling. It’s been so long since you’ve gone on a real date. You turn on your shower, but instead of water coming from the showerhead, it starts leaking from the base of the hose.

That can’t be good. You turn off the water and fiddle with the shower. Maybe it just came loose.

You reach for the handle to try the water again. But before your hand can even touch the cool metal, the entire shower head disconnects from the wall and clatters to the shower floor.

Letting out an exasperated groan, you start gathering your clothes into a bag. You really don’t have time for this today. Crossing your fingers your neighbour is home, you head next door.

You’ve never actually talked to him, but you figure he’s probably a safer bet than the crazy old neighbour on your other side; the way he looks at you whenever you run into him gives you the jitters. And not the “he’s a creep” kind of feeling you get when anyone else stares for too long. More like the “he’s probably got a taxidermy cat in his living room and a human body in his closet” kind of feeling. So the neighbour you’ve never even introduced yourself to will have to do.

Your knock echoes through the quiet air. Shifting from foot to foot, you wait impatiently for an answer.

The door clicks open, leaving you face-to-face with your neighbour, who is way cuter up close than you expected him to be.

“…hi,” He greets you as if he’s startled by your presence.

“…hi…” you bite your lip and tear your gaze away from his face to examine your shoe. “I… Well, I live next door, and well—”

“I know,” he interrupts.

“I-What?”

“I’ve seen you… around. We get home from work at the same time, so…”

“Oh.” You chew on your lip for a moment. “Look, my shower broke, and I have a date I have to get to, and well…” you drift off. Are you really asking your irresistibly adorable neighbour who you’ve never met if you can use his shower?

“Oh. Okay, did you want to use mine then?” You pretend not to notice how pink his face has turned.

“Would you mind? I just—I’m running late and I don’t have time to figure out what’s wrong with mine before I leave and still have time to get ready to go.”

“Sure, Come on in,” He shuffles out of the way to allow you space to enter. “Down the hall, second door to the right.”

“Thank you so much,” you smile awkwardly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a run to get to the bathroom, leaving Marcus frozen in the doorway.

This is not how he imagined meeting you. Not that he imagined that at all. And he definitely hadn’t spent hours trying to figure out how to ask you out. Because that would be weird.

And he just let you use his shower to go on a date with someone else.

Fuck.

Marcus Moreno

“Excuse me,” a voice speaks up from behind you, just barely audible over your music. You turn around to find that the voice belongs to a young girl.

“Hello,” you greet taking out your headphones.

“Do you see that guy over there?” she asks, pointing across the cluttered bookstore to a man struggling to balance a tower of books while skimming the shelves for more.

“The one in the glasses?” you confirm.

“That’s my dad,” the girl nods. “He thinks you’re cute, but he’s too afraid to talk to you.”

“Oh,” you say, unsure whether you should be flattered or amused.

“He says it’s ‘cause he doesn’t want to weird you out,” she elaborates, “but I think he’s scared you won’t like him back.”

The man glances up, and, upon seeing his daughter talking to you, rushes over. He pauses only briefly when he trips over a box of books placed in the middle of the walkway.

“Oh, here he comes, act natural,” the girl whisper-yells just before her father arrives. “Oh, hey dad,” she greets him nonchalantly.

“Missy, what did we just talk about?” he scolds.

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “I shouldn’t go up to strangers and tell them my dad thinks they’re cute even when he totally does.”

Missy’s dad freezes, a look of horrified embarrassment washing over his face. “You… You told them what?”

“I’m going to shop some more,” she walks away, winking at you.

“Hey, you get back here, young lady,” he calls after her, struggling not to raise his voice above a murmur in the middle of the peaceful book shop. His daughter ignores him.

He groans under his breath. “I’m sorry about her,” he turns back to you.

“It’s okay,” you laugh. “I’m Y/N,”

“Marcus.” He looks down at his armful of books. “I’d uh… I’d offer a handshake but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile. Marcus smiles back. You allow a moment of uncomfortable silence before speaking up again. “So… you think I’m cute?”

“What? No! I mean, Yes. I mean…” Marcus’ face scrunches up in embarrassment. “Yes? But not… not in a weird way. I wasn’t like… admiring you or anything. That’d be… weird.” Marcus hangs his head with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll just shut up now.”

You smile again at the flustered man in front of you. After a moment, you pull a pen from your sweatshirt pocket.

“Well, here’s my number,” you say, writing as clearly as you can across his forearm. “You can text me if you decide you do think I’m cute… In a weird way.”

You walk to the counter to pay for your books, sincerely hoping he decides to text.

---

Taglist:

@pascalisthepunkest @trashbin2 @anatanotegami @beesting77 @northernpunk @pumpkin-stars

#Din djarin #Javier Peña #Agent Whiskey #Frankie Morales #Max Phillips #marcus pike #marcus moreno #gender neutral reader #gn reader #pedro pascal

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hannie-dul-set · 4 years ago

Text

wc: 3.9k | warnings: swearing, some violence, cheating mentions

it was past noon when you and seolhee parted ways after eating lunch at an admittedly over-priced restaurant. you two decided to go out because she was leaving the school in two days. the whole jeno incident led almost the entirety of the student body to deem her not too fondly, so even if you wanted her to continue her education here, it would only be hard for her to cope with.

seolhee said that she did not expect jeno to apologize for the things that he did, but you still had your hopes up. which was why the conversation you two had over lunch made you feel a lot lighter inside.

("he said sorry! oh my god, i'm still thinking that it was a dream."

you let out a laugh at your friend's upbeat demeanor, reaching out to a napkin to wipe your lips. seolhee accidentally hit the table from her excitement, but luckily none of your drinks toppled down. "well, he could do more than apologize," you started. "maybe make it up to you by clearing up the situation that happened at the cafeteria so that you wouldn't have to transfer."

a slight frown tugged down the corners of her mouth. "an apology is enough for me, really. that much already means a lot considering his personality. and even if he does clear it up, i've already enrolled at eastwood so there's no undoing it anymore."

you placed down your fork, looking at the hazy expression on your friend's face, and then you opened your mouth to speak.

"do you still like him?"

seolhee choked on her drink.

"no!" she hastily wiped away the stray droplets that made their way onto her chin, staring at you as if you've just accused her of a crime. "of course not! oh my god, y/n—" there was a red hue that washed over her face, and you couldn't hold in your laughter. "i—i was just happy that jeno has the capacity to change. he actually seemed genuine, you know? it was the first time i've seen him like that."

seolhee droned on about how the confrontation went. you didn't get to listen even though you were on the line with seolhee— after hearing jeno's intentions of asking her to meet, you ended the call to respect their privacy.

"he told me that i could punch him if i wanted."

"did you?"

"i would've ended up with a broken hand."

giggles erupted and the clacking of utensils followed after. you finished your meal before her, taking a sip from the remaining liquid in your glass with the straw. it was still quite early, so you figured that you still had an ample amount of time to talk.

"i'm glad that everything turned out well for you, seolhee," you started, placing down your glass on the table. "but remember not to sell yourself short. you shouldn't be satisfied with the bare minimum."

"i know…" she sighed. "that's the most we could get out of him at the moment, and i'm satisfied with that. actually, i don't think he would have even done anything if you didn't reach out to him. so thank you, y/n."

seolhee held gratitude in her eyes as she looked at you, and you pressed your lips together into a thin smile.)

you stared at your phone as you sent your last message to seolhee, walking down the sidewalk on the way to the bakery that chenle and jisung always went to. they were close with the owners, apparently, but you've never gone there until now. the smell of freshly baked goods sent you the signal that you were nearby, and you confirmed upon seeing the lines of pastries displayed from behind the glass windows of a cream painted building.

it was a quick purchase, your hands now full thanks to the three boxes of assorted pastries. you were sure that they'd fight over it if you only got them one— so getting one for each of them would be much better. the other one was for you to bring home to your parents later.

"thank you so much, taeyong! i'll be sure to stop by often," you shot the handsome man behind the counter a smile before turning towards the exit.

"bring the kids with you too! they haven't gone here in a long time and i'm starting to think they've forgotten about me," you laughed at his words, nodding, before finally facing the glass doors that led outside. taeyong was nice, and you were already planning your next visit here. there was brightness in your face as you reached for the door handle, though with great difficulty considering the stack of boxes that you were trying to balance with your other hand.

you were about to push the door open, but you froze, brows furrowed, and the brightness of your face dimmed down. there was a scene going on from across the street— four people ushering themselves into an alleyway. normally you wouldn't be as affected, but you knew these people, and an ominous feeling buried itself in your gut.

"taeyong?" you turned around once more, eliciting a curious expression from the older male. "can i leave these here for a while? i'll be back, there's just something i need to do."

he was evidently confused by your sudden request, but he relented without any questions. you thanked him one last time before finally exiting the bakery, making your way across the street.

"had fun fucking my girlfriend last night, lee?"

it was difficult for donghyuck to maintain his carefree composure when he was shoved against the brick wall with his ribs and jaw throbbing in pain. sweat trickled down his forehead and his hearbeat rang in his ears. he wondered how the fuck was he supposed to get himself out of this situation.

"look, hyunsung. i get that you're pissed, but let's tone down the violence, yeah?" donghyuck let out a wave of nervous laughter, raising his hands in front of him in surrender. "i didn't know she had a boyfriend! so can you really blame me?"

that was a lie. donghyuck knew well that cheonhee (or whatever her name is) was, in fact, taken. someone from the party last night told him so but he didn't exactly give much of a fuck. he thought it would be fine because they were from different schools, anyway— but it looked like he was being too careless.

hyunsung still had him trapped against the wall by the collar, the bigger male's glare drilling holes into his skin. donghyuck knew he wouldn't make it out alive if he made a run for it. he wasn't that strong or fast, and the damned neanderthal still had two other friends to back him up. all donghyuck could rely on was to somehow fool him into letting him go.

but even that didn't seem easy.

"you think i'm gonna believe that, you little bitch?"

donghyuck's blood ran cold and the grin on his face twitched. he felt his lungs squeezing in suffocation when he was pushed harder into the concrete walls, even if what he was saying was true, hyunsung was seeing too much red to believe him. a fist was raised, and he prepared himself for the impact of the third punch.

"kim hyunsung, jung hayoon, and kang jiho."

a gentle voice somehow stopped hyunsung from moving. a mixture of confusion and relief washed over donghyuck, but that was quickly overturned by unease. he froze. he knew that voice, and he internally cursed.

oh my fucking god, were you stupid? at that point, donghyuck decided that being punched would have been the much better option. why the hell were you here? and another question— how did you know these people? worry was writhing inside his gut and he bit down his lip as he watched you walk closer to the scene.

"i didn't expect to see you again, y/n," hyunsung's attention was momentarily diverted to you, but he was still helpless pinned on the wall. jesus fuck, this guy was strong. your gaze quietly moved over to donghyuck, and he hoped that you got the message that he was mouthing. hyunsung leered at him, which brought donghyuck to quickly shut his mouth.

your lips tugged down into a frown. "and i expected that all those corrective sessions with the dean would've at least made a dent into that personality of yours."

hyunsung scoffed. "righteous as always. you know this fucker?"

"he's a friend," you calmly stated, and donghyuck narrowed his eyes. what were you planning? "and i suggest that you let him go."

there was a phone in your hands and the screen was open. he couldn't see what was on it, but then you flashed it over for him and the other three boys to see. "i believe you were already at your final warning before i transferred from daeil academy."

donghyuck could see hyunsung's jaw clench as the guy glared at your phone, and it caught his intrigue. on your tiny phone screen was what seemed to be an open conversation with someone, and on the message box were a series of similar pictures waiting to be sent. donghyuck couldn't see the pictures clearly, nor did he know who were you planning on sending it to, but he got the gist of situation.

"hayoon and jiho might not get any major punishments," your eyes flickered over to the two boys, and they froze upon your stare. hyunsung's grip tightened. "but you're already on your last thread, hyunsung. you'd be expelled once the dean sees this."

at that point, donghyuck concluded that you were very very scary. but you were also very stupid for getting yourself involved in his own problems. no matter how much leverage you had over hyunsung at the moment, a guy like him would still find a way to get back at you.

"you've already done a number on the guy. don't you think that's enough?" you reasoned. "this isn't my business in the first place, so i won't send this if you let him go."

hyunsung's glare was as cold as ice.

"delete it."

but you didn't seem to be shaken at all.

"of course."

you sighed, explicitly showing to him that you permanently deleted the evidence from your phone. hyunsung finally let go of donghyuck, and he released a long breath, hid hands gently nursing the bruise on his face. the pain on his jaw and chest was momentarily dulled by his fear that you'd also get pummeled, but it once again resurfaced and donghyuck flinched at the throbbing feeling.

"you're still the same, y/n," hyunsung let out a bitter chuckle, signalling the two other boys to start moving, and you sent him a nod and a smile.

the three eventually left, but donghyuck still hadn't moved from his spot. he stared at you who seemed to be frozen in thought, that is until you released a sharp huff of breath and your knees nearly gave in to the floor.

"oh dear god, i thought i was going to die," you exhaled, sauntering over to donghyuck who was ready to catch you in case you actually did fall over, but you shot him a glare to stop him. "don't move— you're hurt."

donghyuck gulped and firmly nodded in obedience. you found yourself before him, but you didn't say anything further yet. you didn't scold him or ask him if he was sleight. instead you had your yes locked on your phone, fingers tapping down before shutting it off and shoving it down into your pocket. you finally looked up to him, and your brow raised upon seeing his puzzled expression.

"what were you doing?"

"sent a message to the dean."

his eyes widened. jesus, you were seriously scary. before donghyuck could press on any further, you quickly snatched his hand, staring over to the only opening that led out of the alley. "c'mon, let's go."

you already started walking before he could even retort, dragging the flabbergasted male behind you. "w-wait, where are you taking me?"

there was no answer from you, instead you just kept on walking and donghyuck was left with no choice but to follow.

��will you two be okay?”

“mhm! thank you so much, taeyong!”

the both of you were hidden in the furthermost area of the bakery, donghyuck sitting on the available chairs with a pack of ice firmly pressed against his bruised jaw. taeyong had been generous enough to let you two stay here for a while (the ice was from his, as well), and you promised to buy another box of pastries to thank him, to which he firmly refused with the shaking of his head.

“just make sure you get the guy home safe, okay?” he told you before going back to man the store. you concluded that taeyong was perhaps the nicest person you’ve ever met, and you were suddenly worried by the idea that chenle and jisung might have extorted this man’s kindness somehow (the former, mostly).

“y/n.”

donghyuck’s voice— lacking the confidence and cockiness that it usually held— called out to you amidst your thoughts. your ears perked as you sat before him, leaning forward in your seat and your eyelashes fluttered as you waited for him to continue. he wasn’t looking at you though, eyes in a faraway daze as he looked at the bakery’s sleek wallpaper.

“thanks for saving my ass earlier.”

he muttered, a slight pout on his lips as he did. donghyuck couldn’t bear to look at you at the moment due to his stained pride, but he isn’t that prideful to miss out on actually thanking you. It was genuine, though the embarrassment of you seeing him so helpless was still present. he was suddenly afraid because you weren’t saying anything, but then the sound of your chair screeching as you closed in on him happened, and all he felt now was confusion.

“what are—” donghyuck was about to look at what the hell were you doing, but when your hand gently made contact with the non-injured side of his face, turning his head to look at your worry eyes, the words he was about to say fizzled into air in his throat, leaving his mouth agape in fluster.

“it’s fine, hyuck. does it still hurt?” the rapid pace of his pulse when you brushed away the ice pack in his other hand to examine the dark bruise somehow made him even sensitive to the pain when you mentioned it. he flinched, unable to say anything. “ah, this is gonna last a while. you should drink some painkillers in the meantime, okay?”

donghyuck gulped. oh my god, why were you so close. your soft voice flooded not only his ears, but his entire being and it felt like he was drowning in your presence. the pain that was screaming under his skin was blocked away, numbed into nothingness because all he could feel was how his heart was running to follow you even though you were already so, so close.

he wondered what the fuck was going on with him.

all of a sudden, he felt like an absolute idiot. how would people react upon seeing the rumored fuckboy, lee donghyuck, flaring up at something as innocent as this?

he needed to pull himself together.

“ah!" donghyuck made a hissing sound when your fingers brushed over the area again, instinctively jumping away from your hold, and your brows furrowed in worry. he pouted at you, pressing the half melted ice pack to soothe his jaw once more. "i don't think ice and painkillers would be enough to get rid of the pain, y/n."

instantly, your eyes widened in panic. "oh no, does it really hurt that bad? should i take you to the hospital? oh my gosh, what if it's broken? donghyuck, how much does it—"

"maybe you should kiss it better."

there was silence.

your voice stopped midway, mouth hanging open and you deliberately put it to a close. a cheeky grin was painted on donghyuck's face, one that made it look like he wasn't feeling any pain at all. he noticed the worry on your face being slowly washed away, replaced by your lack of emotion, and you stood up. once more you decided to move closer, walking up to him and barely hovering over and— wait a minute, were you actually gonna do it?

he didn't think about it this far, oh my god.

"wait. y/n, i was just— jesus fucking christ—"

"you deserved to get punched."

donghyuck let out a yelp of pain, hunched over as he hugged his torso. he forgot that he was also attacked on the ribs and was only reminded when you mercilessly jabbed your finger to his chest. he looked at you as you went back to your seat, letting out another groan. “did you just hope that i was also injured here or did you actually know and deliberately subjected me to pain?”

“the latter,” you hummed, crossing your legs. “i was watching from the beginning.”

“so you just let that bitch hyunsung attack me?”

“like i said— you deserved it.”

there wasn’t a hint of jest in your voice and features, meaning you really waited until the last moment before you decided to swoop in. donghyuck bit down his lip, unable to meet your eyes. you were there from the beginning meaning you knew why hyunsung was about to beat the living daylights out of him. suddenly he felt like he didn’t deserve to be saved by you.

"but why did you still help me?"

he was genuinely wondering why you did that. you let him get beat up for a while before deciding to finally get between, but why? it really didn’t make sense to donghyuck, and his heart hammered against his pained ribs while he waited for a response.

“did you really think i was just gonna leave you like that? hyuck, you’re my friend and i care about you.”

what was supposed to be an answer only raised more questions.

“but— but didn’t you say i deserve it?”

“i thought that two hits was enough.”

donghyuck was flustered by your responses and he didn’t even know why. people either sided with him or were against him yet you were situated at both boundaries at the same time. it was a kind of combination that brought him to a place in his head that he’d never been before. you probably noticed the flurry of emotions swirling in his face, so you decided to speak up.

“donghyuck, are you alright?”

“o-oh, yeah,” he shot up under your worried gaze, and he pressed his lips together before speaking. “thanks again for helping me.”

he felt like he wasn’t worthy of your kind smile. “a-also, can i ask a question?”

“go on.”

“don’t you think that i’m like… a shitty person?”

donghyuck was afraid of your response. he was afraid of hearing that you’d agree even though he knew that he was really a terrible person. more than anything, he was afraid of what you thought about him, actually.

“i don’t think so,” you said. “but maybe you’ve done a lot of things before that would be considered ‘shitty’.”

he was genuinely surprised by your answer.

“it’s never too late, hyuck.”

it was quiet for a moment, but it was welcome. donghyuck took this time to think for a moment, to actually get in touch with the mess that had been long ignored in his head. he looked at you as you silently busied yourself with your phone, lips pursed in a manner that had his chest tightening. as if you noticed him staring, you shut off your phone and faced him.

“i think we’ve been loitering here for too long,” you breathed, a sheepish smile on your face. “should we go?”

donghyuck nodded before scrambling to get up. he went over to pick up the boxes neatly placed on the table beside you, but you quickly smacked his hands away. “what?”

“do you think i’m gonna let you bring all of this while you’re injured?”

“y/n, my hands are fine. didn’t you watch as my face and chest got brutally assaulted?”

“you’re still hurt, hyuck,” you protested. “also i’m not letting you go home by yourself. what if hyunsung decides to come after you? do you have anyone to come pick you up?”

donghyuck bit down his lip at your question. he wasn’t planning on going home and he somehow knew that you weren’t going to let him off easily if he told you that. there were many options that flooded his head on what he should tell you— maybe he could say that he’ll head to his dad’s company so that you wouldn’t have to worry, or maybe he can call renjun or jeno pretending that it was his mom.

but for some reason he didn’t want to lie to you.

“um,” his eyes were trained behind you when he spoke. “i don’t really want to tell either of my parents to know what happened... and i don’t want to stay at home, either.”

surprisingly, you didn’t press any further.

“okay,” you assured, and he sighed. he didn’t think that one simple okay could make him feel lighter. “still, i don’t like the idea of letting you off on your own. why don’t we call one of your friends?”

wait a second—

“should we ask jeno? wait, maybe we shouldn’t bother him for now.”

donghyuck’s face paled.

“what about renjun? ah, he might be busy today.”

god, please no—

“oh, let’s ask nana! maybe he’d let you stay over at his to rest for the time being.”

he wanted to stop you, but you were already calling him, and his blood ran cold. there wasn’t a problem with him staying over at jaemin’s— he was actually planning on doing that, anyway. the problem laid on the fact that jaemin would probably kill him once he found out that you were with him. donghyuck was too dumbstruck by the situation to even realize that wait— how did you know jeno and renjun? you even had their numbers? what the fuck?

“thank you so much, nana! i’ll text you the address,” there was a smile on your face when you were talking to him, and donghyuck didn’t want to get rid of it by telling you that the person on the end of the line was probably scowling at your request right now. that would also mean that he’d have to tell you that jaemin had been trying to pursue you, and he didn’t want to get in the middle of that.

so all he could do was smile and nod as he waited for his friend’s wrath.

but much to his surprise and relief, it never came. because the moment jaemin arrived to drag his ass to his house, he seemed to be too distracted by you to even look at him. he noticed something different from his friend; the bright gleam on his face when he looked at you was something he had never seen before, and it welcomed a feeling that he had never felt before.

“thanks again, nana! i’ll see you two tomorrow,” when you finally parted ways, donghyuck expected to finally be berated by his friend for, once again, not listening when he told him to stay away from you, but all that happened was the dimming down of his previous elated demeanor.

“let’s go?”

jaemin uttered without a trace of anger or malice or anything— and donghyuck was more unnerved by this. he nodded in response, wordlessly trailing behind his friend as he went over to crash at his place for the umpteenth time that week.

AN EYE FOR AN EYE // A HEART FOR A HEART

as they say, what goes around comes around. so when you break a hundred hearts out of the selfishness of your actions— be prepared to get your own heart broken a hundred times, as well.

24 // kiss it better

a/n: it’s 12:30am as i’m typing this and i’m just about to shut down oh my god ayways i hope you enjoyed this part!! some hyuck action hehehehe i’d say more shit but i’m really so tired rn so good byE

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nah-she-didnt · 4 years ago

Note

I’ll just choose a random one! What about... 17? From the promp list xx

Hello! Thank you for the prompt, I’m sorry it took so long. I just could not get the right angle on it. I actually wrote an entire Hinny response to this, but I accidentally deleted it (womp womp). Anyway, please enjoy this Jily moment!

Read on AO3!

All Your Moments

The atmosphere inside the common room was like that of a poorly-attended funeral. Forlorn students milled about the room, still wrapped in Gryffindor scarves and clad in gold and crimson face paint. A lone banner with a large, moving lion lay crumpled in the corner, forgotten after the devastating loss to Slytherin.

Lily sat among her friends in front of the crackling fire. Peter hugged his knees to his chest as he stared dismayed into the flames. Mary and Dorcas began a sullen game of wizard chess, prodding their pieces around the board half-heartedly. Sirius and Remus sat in the same squishy armchair, Remus’ head resting against Sirius’ chest.

Sirius sighed loudly. “Thank god I got disowned, I don’t think I’d ever hear the end of this from Reg if I still lived at home.”

Remus laughed, but Peter’s face remained unchanged. “I can’t believe we fucking lost,” he muttered into his knees.

Remus threw a pillow in his direction. “Buck up, Pete. It’s not like you lost, just your team.”

Peter gaped at Remus. “You know, Remus, you’ve never really understood the beautiful game that is quidditch.”

“At least he understands his Transfiguration homework,” Sirius snapped.

“Boys, boys,” Remus sighed, throwing a sharp look in Sirius’ direction, “let’s not fight, yeah? Tonight’s depressing enough.”

Lily glanced towards the boys dormitory. James had disappeared up the stairs after the game and had not resurfaced since. She knew he had to be hurting right now. Quidditch had been a massive part of his life ever since he started at Hogwarts, and to lose the championship game as captain in his seventh year had to be devastating. At this thought, Lily hoisted herself up from between the squashy couch cushions and stood, shoulders squared, facing the boy’s dormitory.

“I’m going up there,” she said confidently and moved towards the staircase.

Sirius caught her arm. “Lily, no,” he said gravely, “you haven’t been dating Prongs very long, but let me tell you. He is an insufferable crybaby when he loses at quidditch.”

Lily scoffed. “Oh come on, he can��t be that bad.”

“No, he’s worse,” Peter grimaced, “remember when they lost to Hufflepuff in fourth year and he disappeared into the forest for four hours?”

“Maybe he needs a bit of cheering up,” smirked Mary as her knight decimated Dorcas’ pawn.

Lily glared at Mary. “I’m not going to shag him out of his misery, but thanks for the suggestion.”

Mary shrugged. “It would work, that’s all I’m saying.”

Lily very much doubted Mary’s words as she climbed the stairs to James’ room. She remembered that loss against Hufflepuff. James moped around the castle for a full week, barely speaking in classes, which at the time had been a blessing. Now she felt her heart drop when she recalled the look on James’ face as he dismounted his broom on the quidditch pitch, the Slytherin players celebrating and hoisting the Quidditch Cup in the background.

Lily reached James’ door and knocked softly. There was no reply.

“James?” she called tentatively, knocking, again, “are you alright? We thought you might like to join us downstairs.”

There was no response. She knocked again.

“James, I know you’re upset, but please come down. It’s not the same down there without you.” She pushed open the door, but the dorm was empty.

“That was fast,” Dorcas grinned as Lily approached the group again, “bit of a quick draw, is he?”

“Shut up,” she snapped, “Remus, I need the map.”

Remus frowned. “What makes you think I have it?”

“Because that map is like your baby, now hand it over.”

Remus grumbled but reached into his pocket for the map. Lily snatched it out of his hand and started to scan the corridors for James.

“He must have slipped out under the invisibility cloak,” she murmured as she searched.

“I’m telling you,” Peter sighed, “he’s off to the forest. Someday we’ll tell our kids, ‘oh yeah, I remember James Potter. He was a giant sore loser who marched into the forest one day, never to be seen again.’”

Lily ignored this, her eyes sweeping over the Hogwarts grounds. Finally, she spotted him. “Gotcha.”

She triumphantly stuffed the map into her pocket. Remus flinched at the way she manhandled his craftsmanship, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment.

“Right, I’m off to find my crybaby boyfriend, pray that I don’t get caught by Filch.” The others echoed calls of luck as she made her way out of the dormitory.

The castle was dark and silent as she crept along the walls. Every shadow was Filch, every squeaking mouse was Mrs. Norris. She realized about halfway to the entrance hall that she was in a stupidly vulnerable position. She knew that if she were caught she could just say she was out of bed on official Head Girl business. However, if she ran into any Slytherins on her way out, she would almost certainly be outnumbered. She forced herself not to think about that possibility and pressed on.

She stopped just before the great oak doors to the castle and pulled the map out of her pocket again. There he was, still sitting motionless in the middle of the quidditch pitch. Drama queen, she thought as she suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. No, she needed to compose herself and support him now.

The night air was crisp and warm, not quite the oppressive heat of summer but still pleasant enough without her cloak. She traipsed through the grass damp with mist and across the grounds towards the pitch.

She didn’t know as much about quidditch as some of her friends, but even she could tell that James had played badly that day. He seemed distracted, like he was always one step behind his teammates. In one particularly bad moment James had turned his head to bark orders at his keeper and completely missed the bludger that soared right into his throwing arm. He played out the rest of the game, but he hadn’t been able to make any more goals.

Lily halted at the entrance to the pitch and scanned the dark grass. The pitch appeared empty, but Lily knew better.

“Oi, Potter!” she shouted into the night.

A moment of silence passed. Then a floating head popped into view.

“Over here,” he called. She could hear the defeat in his voice.

She walked the length of the pitch until she was level with James, then plopped to the ground beside him. The water from the grass beneath them soaked through her knee high socks.

“You don’t play fair,” he muttered miserably, “I came out here to mope away from everyone, but you got the map off Remus, didn’t you?”

She grimaced. “I didn’t want you to be all alone.”

James glanced up to the goal posts in front of them. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I’ll never play another proper game of quidditch. The whole time leading up to the game all I could think about was winning, but I never thought to just enjoy my last moments up there.”

Lily nodded and reached out to clasp his hand. “I’m sorry, James. You’ll play quidditch again someday.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, eyes still pointed to the skies, “but it won’t be the same. I’ll get over it, I suppose, but I wish I’d played well enough to remember it fondly.”

Lily didn’t know what to say to this. She knew she couldn’t disagree with him. He knew as well as anyone that he played poorly that day, and any attempt to contradict him seemed feeble. She offered him a small smile.

“You know, you have your whole life ahead of you. You’re an incredible man. You’ll do things that are much more important than winning the quidditch cup.”

He laughed and squeezed her hand. “That doesn’t help as much as I’m sure you intended, but thank you.”

Lily tugged at him. “Come on, let’s get you inside. Everyone’s waiting in the Common Room.”

James shook his head. “No, I just want to remember this place for a bit. But could you stay with me? Honestly, after this shit day, I just want a hug.”

She nodded, and they laid back in the grass together, gazing up at the sky. She rested her head against his chest and draped an arm across his waist. They lay in silence for a few minutes, listening to the light wind whip across the open field. Lily could feel water soaking the back of her sweater now, but she didn’t care.

She never knew how nice it would be to share his failures with him as well as his triumphs. Here he was, solemn and dejected, but still open. She realized in that moment how much she wanted from him. She wanted all his moments, his great booming laughter and his silent disappointment. Every new emotion with him felt right.

James finally smiled over at her through the blades of grass that separated them. “I’m a real joy to be around right now, I’m sure.”

Lily laughed. “It’s alright, I like it out here with you. And you never stay down for long, you know. Even now you’re joking around like everything is alright. That’s one of the things I love about you.”

James’ smile slid from his face and was replaced with surprise. She’d never said that word to him before, but it felt natural in the moment. Even now she realized she did not regret her words.

“You love that about me?” he whispered through the darkness.

She nodded softly. “Yeah. I love you, James. I do.”

James blinked stupidly for a moment as if he were processing her words. Then he sat up quickly. “Wait,” he said, eyes narrowing, “you’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

Lily laughed as she sat up too. “No, I mean it. I love you, James Potter.”

James sat stunned for a moment. Then he jumped to his feet and whooped with laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she said, also clambering to her feet, “what exactly is funny about that?”

James dived at her, picked her up, and spun her around. When her feet landed on the ground once more he held her close and pressed his forehead to hers. “What’s funny, Lily Evans, is that I never in all my life thought you would say those words to me.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Don’t be daft,” she said, trying and failing to look annoyed, “you must have known.”

“Never,” he beamed down at her then kissed her gently. The wind tugged at her hair and clothes as they swayed for a moment, gripping each other tightly.

Lily suddenly broke the kiss. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What? Oh! I love you too, of course,” he grinned, “I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you.”

“That’s more like it,” she laughed, then tackled him back to the ground.

#Nina writes #jily one shot #jily #james potter #lily evans #sirius black #dorcas meadowes #mary macdonald #remus lupin #peter pettigrew

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jjuzoir · 4 years ago

Text

Match Maker | s. banri

request: “Hello! I personally really love your writing and your whole aesthetic is my dream lol 👉👈 Can I request a scenario where reader and Banri are best friends since childhood? You can turn it into best friends to lovers kind of thing if you feel like it. I’m personally a huge fan of best friends to lovers aus, they just,,, melt my heart 🥺 Thank you so much, please don’t feel like you have to rush it and take your time! 💞” from anon

a/n: i accidentally deleted your anon but i managed to save the request itself sooryy^^ i am so sorry it’s taken me so long omg 🥺 i love you sooo much anonie 💕✨ i love f2l so much too it’s so cute just seeing people who love each other being able to be with each other is !!! ahhh ✨💕 i really enjoyed working on it and i’m really happy with it hhhh thank you sm for requesting ilysm ahhh

word count: 2973

There were many perks to being friends with Banri, he was funny and nice when he wanted to be— he’d help you out with homework and never let you down; if there was one thing you could always count on Banri to be it was determined and loyal. But there were downsides to it too like the looks you’d get for hanging out with a guy with such a shitty reputation, the way he’d always get into fights, or seeing him waste his life away due to lack of interest. There were the multiple fights you had to endure, patching him after he got his ass beaten to a pulp the first few times.

But you wouldn’t trade him for the world. You had stuck with him through so many things, so many phases and bruises, beginnings and ends, you knew him like the back of your hand and you knew how hard it was for him to live such an “easy” life. He liked a challenge, something to work hard towards, something worth fighting for— so he could relish in the satisfaction, but that something never came. When everything comes easy you can never really bask in satisfaction; the afterglow after a succeeding.

Maybe at first, you guessed, Banri did enjoy it but he soon grew tired; everything was easy, too easy. How could he enjoy a life with no challenges when what he liked the most was a challenge?

That’s why when he joined the Mankai company you were ecstatic, finally a non-destructive hobby after years of fights and punches. It was why you didn’t mind distancing yourself from him, to let Settsu enjoy himself and get to know theater— you guessed you just didn’t know how far was enough, leading you to grow farther away than either of you expected; than either of you needed.

Looking back, Banri was somewhat grateful; he knew had you stuck around he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate with the growing feelings he had blooming in his chest.

He realized his feelings for you weren’t the same when texting you wasn’t enough, when meeting you at school wasn’t enough; when he realized that he wanted more. He never took into account how often you two would be together, it felt so natural, there was never a second thought or a minute to imagine what would happen if your routine were to change. After school and during breaks, you’d always be together chatting away; to not have you there by his side as often was weird. It wasn’t as if he never saw you but whenever you left he felt a bitter feeling in his mouth, it left him feeling unsatisfied. What was once a friendship that lasted 24 hours a day soon shortened into a relationship that would last as long as school breaks would allow.

He hoped that once he quit the troupe— after making his point known to Juza, he’d be able to go back to his routine with you, perhaps confess or just let it go, he just wanted to ditch acting and see where you two would go. But he never really quit and so the distance between you two became bigger.

You never grew estranged, neither of you would’ve been able to live without the other by this point— 14 years of friendship, of familiarity and comfort, can’t go down the drain like that. To you Banri was the need for a future, for excitement and adventure, and to him, you were home, nostalgic and known. But going from hanging around each other everyday to almost once in a blue moon, it hit hard and it hit roughly.

By the third performance, you and him could barely meet in person— you had joined clubs while he practiced, your classes weren’t the same and your part time job started demanding more attention; so all you could do was text. He hated texting, you could never really express your tone and feelings properly, but your relationship— or what remained of it, now hung on a thin thread of texts. It was weird, heart breaking almost, to see the shell that remained of your friendship.

It was around that time Banri realized he needed to act on his feelings for you, it was when he realized he could lose you.

He didn’t know how to confront you about it— the boy you had been hanging out around, he’d seen you two, heard the rumors of a possible romance, but he never confronted you. Blue eyes could only watch in confusion as the situation unfolded itself; you two were 17, not kids anymore, it’d be weird for him to pop in one day and demand for you to explain yourself to him. Banri wasn’t delusional, he knew you didn’t owe him an explanation.

Izumi noticed the uncertainty and hesitation in him, how something or someone was bothering him. It was soon after that his discomfort was known to the rest of the company and they grew confused and concerned— some more worried than others. It was her who ended up confronting Banri, she had to convince the dyed blond to not threaten the young boy with behavior and discipline.

Even through his short answers and cold stare it didn’t take the brunette long to understand what was bothering him.

“So, you like your best friend?” Izumi’s pink eyes were tinted with understanding and pity as she looked at the young boy.

However, Banri was too prideful to answer, instead opting to roll his eyes in acknowledgment.

“Well, why don’t you say something about it?”

“[Name] doesn’t owe me an explanation,” he muttered, he had thought about it but really— he was also afraid; if you were dating that boy then it meant his feelings were one sided and he could ruin your trust, make you feel like you had a babysitter or a possessive friend, and accidentally reveal the feelings he had only recently begun to acknowledge.

“I guess you’re right, but you owe yourself closure,” Izumi states straight into his eyes, “Just try talking to them about it.”

“Hmph…”

He stared at your contact name for a while before pressing it that night, he spent at least 14 minutes typing and re-typing what he wanted to send, never before had he been so self conscious when talking to you.

As he laid buried within his covers, only the soft light of his phone shining, he realized how important you were to him; he couldn’t fuck up.

‘Hey, our next performance is next week wanna come??????’

Once he had settled for a text and was ready to press send he heard a deep, and extremely annoying, voice coming from beside him.

“Delete some question marks, it makes you look desperate.”

“Fuckin’- were you reading my texts?” Banri barked at the golden eyed boy, what was that creep doing getting into his conversation with you?

“Kinda hard not to when you’ve got your ringer on, this isn’t a coming of age movie turn that shit off, iss’ annoying.” Juza grumbled before shoving his head between his pillows and Banri swore the small wooden panel separating both of their beds was suddenly asking to be used as a murder weapon.

“Fuck off, Hyodo.”

‘Hey, our next performance is next week wanna come over??’

“You are gonna give them their tickets, right?”

“Of course I am, I ain’t some sort of asshole!” Settsu could swear every time Juza opened his mouth he lost 10 years of his lifespan.

“Ya’ sure about that?”

“Say it to my fuckin’ face, eh?”

‘Hey, I got some tickets for our next performance if you wanna come??’

“Is that better, dick head?” Banri shoved his phone at the purple haired boy causing him to swat his hand away.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Whatever-? You know what, choke on my dick.”

“Come on, I’ve sucked candy bigger than your dick, Settsu, I ain’t chokin’ on a pickle.”

He was surprised that you answered so quickly a short and simple ”Oh my god!!! Yes!!” that had sent his heart into super sonic speed. He guessed that, if Izumi was right and he did like you, that it made sense- and if he had to be honest, really had to be, you could say he didn’t mind the way his heart fluttered around his chest.

‘Come over early and I’ll give them to you’

“And they say chivalry is dead.” Juza grumbled into his pillow, earning a smack from Banri.

A week later and you were standing in front of the Mankai dorm waiting for him, you had to admit that- although sudden, the invite did make you quite happy, even if you both didn’t talk as often you still cared deeply about him.

While you stood outside waiting, however, inside the dorm Banri was getting one final pep talk from Izumi before he asked you out- or tried to at least.

“I get it! Izumi, stop nagging already,” blue eyes rolled as the older woman went over the plan.

“I am not nagging, Settsu! I am simply making sure you don’t screw up!” She shrieked, she was this close to setting you up with Juza out of spite.

“Look, I’m fine,” he assured her, “I’ll just tell ‘em how I feel and if they say yes then good and if they say no then whatever- it’s not like we won’t talk if I’m rejected.” Right?

“Hey, Neo delinquent, you shouldn’t leave your date waiting,” Yuki grumbled as he nodded over to the door, “Poor thing’s been there for half an hour, let it in already.”

“Yuki! Don’t talk about [Name] like they’re a dog!” Izumi scolds the middle schooler.

“Whatever, just worried they’re gonna catch a cold.” He shrugs before leaving the room, if you ended up sick you’d only have those two to blame.

“Okay, now go- go!” Izumi pushed the tall boy before running off to hide behind the wall, just in case.

Banri takes note of his sweaty hands and scolds himself; keep it together. He shakes his head and opens the door to find you waiting for him.

In the second it took you to process the opened door, Banri felt himself fall in love with you. After not seeing each other in person since the start of the new semester, it dawned on him how much he yearned to be with you.

“Banri, I missed you!” You throw your arms around your friend, you were excited— it had been weeks since you’d last seen him and you missed him, even if you two didn’t talk as much there was never a day you didn’t think of him in some way.

“[Name],” he ruffled your hair, his eyes softening as he looked at you, “I missed you too.”

“I’m so excited,” you pulled away from him, looking him straight in the eyes, “I was so worried I wouldn’t get tickets, I really wanted to see you act again!”

“Tch, ain’t you a fan?” He teases you, making way for you to come inside the dorms and you gladly do. It had been months since you last came, but it still looked and felt the same; he felt and looked the same, he looked smarter though, more mature and put together.

“You’re talking as if I wouldn’t come see my best friend.” You smile up at him and he feels his heart clench in his chest at your words.

As he leads you to the living room he wonders if he should actually tell you— unlike most things in his life, you were always there, no matter what he was doing you’d always stuck around him. Ever since you were young, Banri can’t remember a time where you weren’t there and, honestly, he didn’t want to.

His silence catches your attention and you decide to speak up; “So, how have things been?”

“Ah, good, they’ve been good,” he coughs, he felt stupid getting nervous over this- he should just get it out as fast as possible, “and you?”

“Things ‘ve been well, kinda weird without you around.” You admit awkwardly as you sit down on the couch.

He nods, a smile gracing his lips as he thinks about how to lead the conversation where he needs it to be. He remembers Izumi’s words and advice, he deserved closure and, maybe it was selfish of him but, he wanted a relationship with you too. He really, really wanted a relationship with you.

“[Name]?” He speaks out, his voice wavering slightly and if he could he’d beat himself up for it. Hearing the uncertainty behind his words you almost shoot up from your seat in worry.

“Yeah?”

“I- I know it’s sudden and,” he takes a deep breath, “it’s gonna sound weird but I, uh- realized somethin’.”

You nod confused, you were listening to him and you wanted him to continue; that’s the moment he realized he’d need to fold whatever pride he had left and throw it in the air if he wanted to know the truth.

“It’s very weird and if it makes you uncomfortable it’s okay! It’s just, I've heard about you goin’ out with someone and I wanted to know if-?”

“Oh! You mean Rin, right? No, don’t worry, he’s dating someone; we’re just friends!” You laugh as you explain.

“Oh, good.” Even with his, albeit limited compared to other members, acting experience he couldn’t quite hide the relief that washed over his face and body at the revelation.

“Why do you wanna know? Worried you’re gonna lose me?” You tease but the words he uttered next made you do a double take his way.

“Yeah, actually- funny you’d say that.” He sighs before looking around the room, “I didn’t invite you just for the tickets, [Name], I-I wanted to tell you something… I like you.”

You feel the blood rushing to your ears and spread through your cheeks, you were sure you were practically heating up the room just from your blushing alone.

“You like me?” You ask him, you were extremely flattered and the thought that a guy like Banri liked you was nice. You liked him, you’ve liked him for a pretty long time but were too afraid to say anything so for him to, after so many years, tell you he liked you was straight out of a shojo manga.

“Yeah, it’s okay if you feel weird, I just wanted to say it, ya’ know?” He avoids your eyes and you quickly piece together the rest. He’d been acting weird, all shy and nervous, his texts were kinda dry, and even when you did meet in the hallway he had been acting off… was it all because he liked you?

“Banri, I- wow, me too,” you stutter, fidgeting with your fingers slightly at his confused face, “I kinda like you too.”

“Ya’ do?” It was his turn to jump from his seat at your words, his heart knocking against his chest as if it were about to explode from the override of emotions he was feeling at your words.

“Yeah, it’s embarrassing,” you laugh, “but I’ve liked you for some time now, I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

His signature cocky smile is back on his face as soon as you say it and you wish you could take it back so he wouldn’t tease you, but would it really be Banri if he didn’t make fun of you even just a little bit.

“Shoulda’ known, no one can resist me.” He plopped himself next to you and you shove him slightly.

“Yeah, no one can resist you and your bowl cut.”

“You said it looked good!” He glares at you but you know he isn’t angry at all.

“Yeah when we were like 10?” You ruffle his hair, the soft strands gliding through your fingers and Banri is sure that if he had a tail it’d be wagging.

“Ya? Well why d’ya like me if I got a stupid bowl cut?” He grabs your hand and levels himself to look you in the eyes.

“Because you’re smart,” you lean closer and peck his lips, “and cute, even with that shitty hair.”

“You can’t insult me and compliment me like that! You're gonna give me whiplash, geez.” His eyes widen at your actions and he blushes a deep pink, and you do your best to memorize that look knowing it was rare.

“Ew, the NEO delinquent is flirting on our couch,” you both hear a whine from behind you two and you jump startled, “Now we’ve gotta clean it up.”

“We’d appreciate it if you kept the PDA minimal with the kids here, Settsu.” Sakyo glares at the young man, you could almost miss the soft smile as he watched his leader finally look like himself again.

“So, [Name], you two dating or what?” Izumi pokes her head out of her hiding spot, going straight to the point.

“Please, he probably didn’t even give ‘em the tickets.” Juza makes his way through the small crowd and into the kitchen area.

“Yes I did-“

“No you did not.” You correct him, causing the actor to blush even redder at your words.

“Told ya’.”

“Cut it off you guys!” The director scolded everyone in the room, too excited at the newly formed couple to care about much else, “Are you two dating?”

“I think we are.” You look at Banri who looked back at you, his scowling face softening until a smile broke out.

“We are.” He confirms, giving you a kiss on the cheeks with a smile and you feel light on your feet with excitement.

“I should start a match-making agency or something.” Izumi giggles at her comment, proud to finally have helped the young boy.

“With your dating life? Please.” Sakyo laughs at the younger woman.

#—🎀 a3!#a3!#a3 #act addict actors #a3 x reader #a3 banri #banri #a3 banri x reader #banri settsu #banri settsu x reader #banri x reader #—✒️ sora’s scripts #—📨 request #—💌 mysterious messenger!

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mistymark · 5 years ago

Text

nct dream as college kids

RENJUN

works on campus til late

always asleep

likes to study in the library because its the only place he can get some bloody peace

texts jaemin to bring him food

went to the on-campus gym once and never went back

complains about parking on campus

complains about his friends on campus

but he loves them and always organises activities and catch ups

the glue that keeps everyone in touch despite their different degrees and campuses

laughs too loud and always gets stared at for doing it in class

once got kicked out of the library for his loudness

to be fair, he did accidentally fall out of his chair... and pull the table down with him

his id actually looks good

does half the pre-reading then just listens to lectures to understand the rest

o ve. r whe l me d

still maintains a brilliant GPA

his project group members always love him

JENO

wears hoodies and sweats to every class

still looks really good though

and distracts everyone in his classes

lives off free food at parties and tight-ass tuesdays specials

is in advanced classes bc he had the grades for them but doesnt understand shit

still manages to look bored in class even when hes confused and/or focused

sits in the back and then squints at the board bc mans cant see

carries like three things with him to every class

owns one (1) pen

he doesnt even write anything with it he just chews on it during class

everyone thinks its hot but the guy sitting beside him (jaemin) looks disgusted the entire time

has received many anonymous love letters on facebook but hasn't read any of them

not to be mean - he just doesnt find it interesting

drafted a love letter to someone in one of his lectures and then deleted it

hasn't looked at the page since

actually does the pre-reading

then gets bored in lectures when they just go over what he read about

JAEMIN

smiles 24/7 even when hes stressed

supportive af tho

always sporting the Cozy aesthetic

wears sweaters and vests in temperatures you'd think wouldnt be suitable but the boy doesnt appear to sweat???

wears rly cute glasses sometimes and !!!!!!!!

waves at people he knows

does not hesitate to run up to people and start conversations with them out of nowhere

attends Donghyuck’s parties to SpEnD TimE WiTh HiS fRieNdS

has never lost a game of beer pong

girls say he gets 10x hotter when hes drunk because hes way more flirtatious and fun

but he probably just flirts w Jeno the whole time

walks into lectures with sunglasses on and everyone knows what happened the night before

never leaves the house without food

his backpack is 30% necessities like laptop, books, phone, keys etc.

and 70% granola bars and fruit

doesnt want to spend money on food on campus

drinks way too much boba tho

is in Disney society and probably becomes co-president after a year

DONGHYUCK

throws parties for every no reason

wears the same outfit every day bc he knows he looks good

youngest kid in his frat

talks a lot of shit about how hes a player and can get any girl he wants but the second a girl looks at him hes a blubbering mess

in fact, hes probably got a huge crush on someone in his lecture that hes never talked to

attends online lectures so he can play video games at the same time

has to be told to turn his mic off during group discussions because hes eating really loudly

isn't afraid to talk in class

sometimes rocks up wearing something outside of his normal dress code because hes still discovering his style

but everything he tries suits him

basically started the bucket hat trend - he claims so anyway

won't let anybody touch his student id

no one has seen the photo but many speculations have been made over how bad it is

the only person who has seen it is one of the librarians

Chenle and Jisung made it their mission to see it but to this day they havent been able to get it

its a series on Chenle’s tiktok bET

CHENLE

became famous on tiktok over the summer so now everyone knows who he is ??

does wild shit bro

does vlogs with his friends

‘I joined the kpop dance club at my college and it went like this”

lots of videos of him and his friends going batshit crazy at night

wears expensive yet extremely tasteful clothing

catch him walking around campus in pressed shirts

never looks tired ??????? how does he cope ??????

tags jisung in love letters that are definitely not for him

tags jisung in love letters that are definitely for him

probably wants to start a youtube channel when he graduates

girls want to date him but more often guys want to be him

is super nice but

glares at anyone who says he doesnt need a degree to take over daddy’s business

did a kiss or slap challenge once and everyone kissed him and its very pure

maintains solid grades

everyone knows who he is whether they know him from tiktok or not

probably on really good terms with his professors

loves to send emails ?

JISUNG

that one kid in high school that became super hot over the summer

people from his school dont even recognise him

makes the older kids feel gross when they realise hes younger than they are and they've been thirsting over him for ages

people who wouldnt even glance in his direction in high school now want to be his friend

mostly keeps to himself and his studies

joins a few clubs and societies

got roped into Disney society by jaemin

had to attend the ball and wanted to die when he got crowned as the official prince

I dont think he did Disney society the year after

though he did think the dancing at the ball was fun and joined a dance troupe

gives his number to people in his project group then forgets to respond when they text him

does his work tho so who can complain

dies of embarrassment whenever he sees chenle has tagged him in love letters on facebook

at some point chenle has downloaded tinder onto his phone and tried to match him with people

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coffeecomicsgalore · 4 years ago

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A Little Rain, A Big Love Story

Ao3

This is my submission for the @luckycharmzine! I hope you enjoy the Ladynoir Identity Reveal Scene.

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Ladybug looked across the dark Parisian skyline, allowing the cool breeze to sweep over her. It was still fairly warm out, the heat of the summer day seeping into the night. The cool breeze felt welcomed against her exposed skin.

Chat Noir sat beside her as they relaxed on their favorite beam on the Eiffel Tower. As usual, it was an easy night of patrolling. There was nothing besides a stray cat stuck in a tree and two young boys arguing over a pack of trading cards. They didn’t have to stress over an akuma or deal with police-solving issues. So, when they have nights like this – quiet, peaceful, and relaxing – it made their conversations quite comforting.

While they couldn’t talk much about their civilian lives and risk revealing too much, they did enjoy giving each other a glimpse of themselves. It would only be little things, like favorite colors, snacks, or subjects. Things that were common enough that neither could guess easily, yet they still relished in those little tidbits of information.

Trusting yourself in your partner without knowledge of who they were underneath the mask was a risk, but Ladybug would risk her life for him on any occasion.

If he would let her, that is.

“You know.” Chat started, continuing to look towards the skyline as he spoke. “You would really like my friends. We are so close. I don’t know what I would do without them.” He ended with a satisfied hum as his lips quirked into a small smile.

Ladybug looked over to her partner and grinned. He looked so at peace tonight. It was a pleasant change to their last conversation where he seemed distressed and distracted. She missed it when her kitty didn’t ooze silliness out of his suit.

“I know what you mean.” She looked back out to the skyline as he turned to look at her. “Do you remember that boy I had that major crush on?”

“You mean the one that never gave you the time of day?”

She scoffed and pushed his shoulder teasingly. “Chat!”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright. Go ahead.”

Ladybug side-eyed him for a moment. When she felt like he wasn’t going to continue teasing, she proceeded. “Well, over the last two years, especially after me trying to get over said crush on him, we grew closer. I consider him to be one of my best friends. Like so close that he is a close tie to my best girlfriend. But I won’t tell her that. I enjoy my life too much to succumb to imminent death.” They both laughed. “But anyways, he said something today and it reminded me of you. I think you two could be close friends.”

“Why? Does he have amazing puns like moi?” He joked, bringing his hand to his chest as he mentioned himself.

“Actually, yeah. I didn’t even know he could joke like that. But you would appreciate his puns. Sometimes I think he could probably out-pun you.”

“Out pun the pun master? Never.”

“I know of one other person that could probably out pun you, chaton. But I can’t mention who.”

“I guess I will have to battle your friend in a pun duel then. I need to keep this knight and shining leather fighting by your side, puns and all.”

Ladybug shook her head. “I have enough room in my heart for all three of my pun masters. No dueling required. I promise.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment before Chat noticed that her face softened, but her eyes meant she was a distance away.

“You okay, bugaboo?” He inquired, just enough softness in his voice to allow her to talk her feelings through, but also enough to show her he wouldn’t pry.

She sighed, but decided to tell him. “Even though he’s my best friend, a part of me will always love him. Do you know how difficult it is to force yourself to move on considering he’s constantly in my life? Of all the people that have come into my life, no one has caught my eye or my heart like he has.” Ladybug turned to him. Chat could see the sadness in her face. “Actually. There has been one other person, but it’s just not possible. At least not right now.”

Chat eyed her with a mix of fondness and sadness. Seeing her feel like this broke his heart, and he knew exactly how she felt.

“I know what you mean.” He looked back towards the sky, the last two years crossing his mind. The relationships he had made and lost were pressing against his heart and he ached from the pain. “Letting go of the one you love, especially when they’ve made a significant impact in your life, is hard. But love has never been easy. No matter how much you try to move on, it still lingers.”

Ladybug turned to Chat and took his hand, squeezing the love she had for him through her fingers. “I love you, Chat, more than you can begin to know. But you have to understand, you were never meant to be second best. You deserve someone who will love you with their whole heart.” She looked down and laughed bitterly. “And unless luck is truly on my side, maybe the boy I love is really you beneath the mask. Once Hawkmoth is defeated, I want to know who you are. You will always have a place in my life and my heart no matter how this chapter of our lives end.”

They gazed into each other’s eyes as her words etched themselves into the spot in his heart reserved for her. Chat was the first to break the gaze, looking back out into the Parisian skyline as a comfortable silence mingled between them. When Chat finally swallowed the strangling pain in his throat, he confessed.

“You know. I’ll always love you, bugaboo. A part of me always had. It always will. I’ve tried to move on and date other people, but no one besides this one girl, my best friend, has ever caught my eye.”

Ladybug looked at him and smiled even as a twinge of jealousy ran through her body. She shrugged it off and placed her head on his shoulder. Their fingers laced together as they enjoyed the small embrace. If she couldn’t love him in the way they both wished she could, she could at least love him like this. “That girl is lucky to have your heart.”

They sat there in another comfortable silence before Chat scrunched his face and let out a breathy chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” She asked, lifting her head up from his shoulder to look at him.

“Well, it has something to do with that girl. You know, I don’t think anyone knows this, so I think I’m in the clear to say it.” Ladybug scrunched her nose, but then decided it would probably be fine. She gave him a nod to continue. “She became my first self-initiated friend when I started school. There was a huge misunderstanding. I almost lost her friendship before building one.”

“That seems extreme. What happened?”

“On my first day, she thought that I was trying to target her. She had always been bullied by one of my longtime friends, so she assumed I was the same way. Believe it or not, I’m socially awkward. I didn’t know any of the dos and don’ts of making friends.”

Ladybug could see his face visibly soften.

“It was raining and we were the only two standing outside as I was leaving to go home. I don’t know why, but something just compelled me to talk to her, to tell her that I didn’t have any friends, that everything was still so new to me. I almost left but then turned around. I told her I was sorry that I made her believe that I played a cruel prank on her. I told her that I only had one friend before that day and at the time, I didn’t want to lose that friendship either.”

Chat continued to look out at the skyline, but Ladybug had caught on to something interesting about his story. It was one that was strangely similar to her own story. One that no one else would know of.

“Once I apologized, I gave her the umbrella I had. I mean, my car was right there so it didn’t bother me to get a little wet. But I just didn’t want her to get soaked going home and I didn’t know how long the rain was going to be around for. I didn’t know where she lived and I didn’t realize that she lived so close to the school, but I couldn’t just let her get soaked.”

He let out a lovesick sigh and let out a chuckle before looking down at his claw to examine his ring. “Honestly, I think that was the first moment that I started to fall for her. I just didn’t realize it because I was so infatuated with you.”

Ladybug looked to him with such softness. Tears were welling up in her eyes and a blush donned her cheeks. Chat looked up at her and started to worry, afraid that he said something he shouldn’t.

“That moment is a moment too beautiful to forget.” She said, wiping the tears that started to fall in front of her mask. “She is lucky to have such a caring person in her life, chaton.”

Chat finally smiled. “Yeah, she’s so caring that I’m afraid to lose her. She’s shy around me sometimes. I’m afraid that she’ll reject me if I ask her out.”

“I think you should ask anyways. I bet she’ll say yes.”

He thought for a moment before asking her. “What about you?”

“I guess since you told me about your bestie, I should tell you about mine.” She snickered. “Every time I tried to confess to him, something went wrong. Like this scarf I made him, or the valentine I tried to send him, or the doctor’s note I gave him instead of a love confession, the video love confession that got deleted. Oh, and the beret... it just never worked out before.” She shrugged.

Guess it doesn’t matter now because she could finally confess without having to do it first.

“You see. I fell in love with this boy who I thought was a bully. I thought he put gum on my chair and was a prissy rich kid because he was best friends with the girl who hated my guts. But then he apologized and handed me his umbrella in the rain. That simple act of kindness and his laughter after I accidentally pressed the close button on the handle filled my soul with so much love, that I couldn’t let it go.”

Ladybug turned to Chat to see that he was wide eyed and jaw slacked.

“No wonder why I couldn’t let it go.” She smiled with so much love in her eyes that she could not contain the giggle that bubbled up within her. “I guess I was lucky after all.”

“Marinette?” He said so quietly, afraid that the conversation would crack and leave them in a different world.

“Hi Adrien.” She replied back softly.

Chat cupped her cheek with his claw and rubbed his thumb against the line between her mask and her skin. “It’s really you. I fell in love with you twice.”

“And I never stopped loving you. My love only grew.”

He leaned in and nuzzled his nose against hers. She sighed at the contact, her eyes pleading. He leaned in and kissed her lips, slow and soft but full of love and want. When they pulled back, they looked at each other as rain started to fall around them, the clasp of thunder bringing them back to that very first moment that sealed their fate.

“My lady. I love you.”

“I love you too, my chaton.”

#luckycharmzine #ladynoir #identity reveal #rain #umbrella scene #love confessions #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #ml

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gagmebucky · 5 years ago

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thank you to taylor @blessedbucky, mia @theamericanfalcon, liz @marvelous-mr-stark, raechel, shayla, lauren, courtney, em and tina for allowing me to write this content as well as my beta reader kat @angel-fire! love you all!

read the full synopsis and excerpt // read chapters snippets here.

o. in which you accidentally send your nudes to your brothers’ best friend. (includes reader’s pov, bucky’s pov, mentions of sexting.)

—

Initially, taking the photos—exposing yourself in such an intimate state to another—you were hesitant. It wasn’t the possible repercussions, i.e. revenge porn, that gave you pause but more-so an insecurity in your own body. Having never done something like this before, you briefly dithered between whether you should or not.

Ultimately, however, you do. The guy had spent money on you, went through the trouble of finding something you’d like and shipped it discreetly. And when you slip the racy number on, your insecurities wash away and leave excitement in its wake. Everything about it you love, and it has you preening in a solo photo shoot you’re eager to show off.

After a good time of selfie shutters bulking your phone’s storage—positions of you scantily-clad standing, sitting, a cross of both—you finally relent. There’s too many pictures to pick from, but you do. Three poses that optimize the best aspects of the outfit and that you think he’ll like the best have you buzzing in anticipation of his reaction.

Giddy, you tap them directly on the album app and click the share button; you input the letter B in the ‘To:’ slot. Since there’s only two contact names under that letter, his name shows up immediately, the first with the nickname Bucky beneath it. You gloss over that and in quick succession, you quickly hit the contact and press send.

For a split second, you’re proud: you’ve taken this e-relationship to the next level like he wanted, and he’ll be happy with you. Then it hits you like a brick through glass. A replay of your actions travel to your brain, and you belatedly realize what your eyes saw—your thumb smearing too low on the screen, so instead of Brock as the recipient, it’s Bucky.

“No, no, no!” you whisper as your heart hurtles like a jackhammer stuck in your rib cage.

A part of you insists it’s your paranoia playing tricks on you, and that’s a valid rationale because this whole thing does worry you about getting caught. Except, upon checking its legitimacy, you confirm what you accidentally did. There’s no mistaking it, now, because with your brightness turned up full, your partially nude figure stares you in the face underneath of a thread between you and your brothers’ best friend.

James Bucky Barnes—the man who’s nicknamed you bambi because the numerous times he’s seen you face-plant over your own footing, the twenty-four year old who still ruffles your hair when he greets you, the soon-to-be business owner who dates certified models—has a trio of your attempts to be seductive; bottom lined with text you hope comes off likewise seductive.

Mortification swallows you. Your skin burns hotter and hotter by the second. Sure, you’ve embarrassed yourself before: you fall a lot, and you’re awkward conversationalist. But never something of this magnitude, not something that makes you seem so desperate and pathetic.

You can imagine him opening the messages. He’d immediately assume, understandably, it’s a come-on; a girl trying to be a woman’s failed goal to enthrall a man like him, his best friend’s kid sister’s pitiful effort to be anything other than just that. As if you could ever measure up to the types of women he dates.

And, yes, there’s been a time where you had a crush on him. But it’s not your fault when he looks like how he does, a rugged example of masculine sex appeal, and treating you the way he does, teasing but with a twist of kindness, and the fact that he’s the only non-blood related man allowed near you.

But that time has passed. Even then, you knew the one-sided attraction was delusional to have. You were—still are—so sure about it that you never even dared to fantasize about him and the rumors that used to trek behind him about his sexual escapades. There’s no hidden desire to be with him, and that worsens it because it’s not like you’d feel any relief in knowing his reaction. You don’t care about his reaction in the first place!

Now, no matter how much you will insist it’s an accident, there will always be a dubiousness about it. With how close your families are, things are going to be tense. Because there’s no forgetting he’s viewed you like that, and there’s photo evidence of it.

It hits you then. The extremity of your fuckup douses you in ice, and your muscles freeze because you register that since he knows about your family borderline patriarchal values concerning you, he has to tell them you’re taking nudes, and it will be over for you.

It has taken you twenty years of your life to finally venture outside what your family has allowed, to sate your curiosity of what exactly your fathers and older siblings have kept so strictly from you: sex and all the goodness it entails.

It has taken you an additional six months to explore in-depth and build the courage to start something tangible, to wander the depraved side of the internet where strangers did things to each other that made you want to do things with someone of your own: stirring foreign but oh-so amazing feelings in your nether regions.

For twenty-six weeks you carefully treaded across in order to ensure your family had no clue what you’re doing, clearing your web history and using incognito mode, all your accounts anonymous, keeping your notifications on silent in case anyone becomes suspicious of who’s continuously contacting you.

One hundred and eighty-two days later—in the middle of which you started your sex-based communication—of preparing to lose your virginity, your family will find out what you’ve been up to, and your life will be hell.

Everything has been going so perfectly. You found a guy enough distance away he isn't affected by your family’s influence, middle-aged so he’s experience and doesn’t mind handling a virgin, and is willing to drive an hour to meet you at a specified hotel when the time comes.

All that hard work down the drain.

You toss your phone and jump to your feet. Panicked, your bare feet pad back and forth on your rug-covered wood floors. Your teeth gnaw at your thumbnail as different scenarios of how everything will transpire flit through your head. Each one is more terrible than the last, and your anxiety heightens.

Somewhere in your disquietude, it occurs to you. Your brothers are downstairs and so is Bucky, but it’s ten o’clock at night, and that means they’re gaming. That particular activity coined a rule that all players have to stow their phones in the guest room. The specifics are blurry but it was something about Bucky interrupting the session due to excessive texts.

It’s an opportunity. A chance that you can creep downstairs, swipe his phone and delete your mistake—hell, you’ll break his phone if you need to—before he’s any the wiser.

“And—” Bucky Barnes drawls out the vowel as the rough-textured ball hurls through the air and swishes sharply into the hoop. “—nothin’ but net.” He relaxes from the perfected basketball follow-through stance, hands dropping to his sides, while he regards his old friend with a cocky smile. “Beat that, Rogers.”

Steve snorts and catches the ball when it bounces onto the concrete. Palming it in one hand, he dribbles it twice and trades positions so instead of being stationed next to the hoop, he’s descended to the driveway curb where the established three-pointer line is.

“You still got it, Barnes,” the blond admits, loosening his shoulders and spreading his footing to be a width apart. His right hand balances the ball from below, elbow tucked underneath, while the left splays against the side as his knees bend, and he springs up. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he releases the orange sphere at the top of his jump. It catapults in a flawless arc and drops through criss-crossed netting with a similar swish. His lips curve with satisfaction as he adds, “But, so do I.”

Bucky laughs and seizes the ball as it falls free. “Callum and Henry have no idea they’re going to get obliterated,” he says, coming to slap his palm in an affable embrace. “Fair warning, they’re still as sore losers as they were five years ago so be prepared for that.”

Steve Rogers chuckles. The former fourth to their high school cliquè, he’s aware of just how bad sports they are.

After graduation, he left out-of-state to pursue a degree in technological engineering, which he acquired last month in May, prompting his return back to New York. Between the four of them, Bucky and Steve are the level headed ones so he’s glad to have the support to handle the wild children his childhood best friends are.

“Speaking of,” Steve starts, dirty blond eyebrows knitting as he glances around the neighborhood’s cul-de-sac. “Where are they? I thought Henry was supposed to be waking up Callum? If we aren’t starting yet, then can I get my phone back?”

Bucky clicks his teeth. “Yeah. They’re probably stuffing their faces right now. Their sister went grocery shopping and got a cake so. . .” He waves his hand in gesture before continuing in vehement passion on the second point, “The whole phone thing is bullshit, though. I miss a few winning shots ‘cause I was busy with some pretty little thing texting me, and now there’s a ‘no technology rule’.” He scoffs and folds his arms.

Now that he thinks about it, he could totally have his phone right now. And he’s more interested in having it than usual. There’s this girl he’s been seeing frequently at local parties—six feet tall with gorgeous brown skin, always done up in intricate eye makeup, silver tongued (he’s very interested in her tongue) when she speaks—and he’s finally gotten her number. She could be texting him, and he doesn’t even know it!

“You know, yeah, we should get our phones back if those assholes want to take all day,” Bucky decides, agreeing with steps toward the closed storm door, but opened front door until he hears the inquiry:

“How is Y/N, anyway?” Steve’s voice is genuinely and harmlessly curious behind him, and he stops in his tracks because Bucky remembers the poorly hid crush he harbored for you. “I saw her instagram the other day, and she must be quite the heartbreaker.”

Spinning around to face him, Bucky lifts a brow. “Huh?” Then he processes the implication that you’re out dating and such. The mere prospect has him surprising laughter.

With their dad and his girlfriend on a tour of the world, the three of them are the only ones in the household. Given you’re the baby of your siblings, despite being an independent twenty-year-old, your older brothers have taken it upon themselves to ensure you focus solely on school work. Callum and Henry know exactly how to threaten their message across that you are not to be bothered, and anyone who tries will end up battered and bruised.

He shakes his head. “Nah. She’s not with anyone, hasn’t been ever,” he tells him. “If you thought Callum and Henry were overprotective back then, you should see them now.”

Gunmetal blue eyes blink surprised at him, and there’s a faint battle between delight and disappointment. “Really?” He shoves his hands in his sweats and falters somewhat. “It’s gotta be hard considering the way she has grown up,” he says but Bucky’s face scrunches in confusion. “You can’t tell me you don’t see how cute she is.” Before he can respond, Steve adds, “Obviously I wouldn’t ever see or be with her in that way—I wouldn’t betray Callum or Henry like that—but objectively, you can admit she’s gorgeous, right?”

Bucky has to take a moment and genuinely consider it—consider you—because he hasn’t before. (Other than noticing the genetic similarities to Callum, who shares your eye and hair color but is a shade lighter than you, and Henry, who shares your complexion and eye color, but his hair is darker than yours.)

There’s no denying your looks are better than most: the structure of your face works beautifully, dazzling eyes framed by your lashes and occasionally accentuated by mascara, lips usually adorned in gloss or anything that keeps them hydrated which could be described as alluring, and your hair is almost always done, sometimes switched up in style. But there’s an inherent innocence there, a sweet and clumsy awkwardness, and maybe because he’s watched you grow up, four years your senior, but it just doesn’t do it for him.

You’re his best friends’ baby sister, for God’s sake. He’d never at you like that in the first place. Especially not when he’s been aware, in the past, you harbored a schoolgirl crush on him. It was painfully obvious, to your chagrin, but he found it adorable—flattering but unsurprising considering girls flock to him like seagulls to boardwalk french fries.

Currently, he’s sure you know he won’t ever pick you—under principle, under the lack of attraction. Other than pleasant smiles and occasional small talk mixed with teasing, you don’t gaze at him with starry eyes anymore, at least it’s waned significantly as you matured.

Back to the question: “Uh, no, not really. Even if Callum and Henry didn’t care, I don’t think I’d be attracted to her,” he answers truthfully. Your purity doesn’t provoke his sexual attraction although it does invoke a duty of protectiveness. “She just isn’t my type.”

Steve arches a brow, a surprised playfulness in his expression. “Oh? Then what is your type, then?” he asks, nudging him with his elbow. ‘Cause from what I remember you’re up for anyone and everyone.”

“That makes me sound like a whore,” he feigns offense but digresses into a fit of chuckles as he thinks back to all his various sex-capades and Steve flashes him a look that says aren’t you? “Yeah.” He nods with a prideful chortle. “But I’m into more frisky girls, y’know? Ones who’ve been everywhere and done everything. They’re brass and loud and just do whatever the fuck they want. I like to be one of those things.”

Behind him, his best friend, Callum’s orotund voice rings out between the pressurized shh of the storm door, “Buck’s into slutty girls, Steve.”

He cringes at the diction. “Don’t call ‘em slutty. Sounds degrading when you guys say it like that.” Most of the time, he agrees with him—and his brother—but when it comes to women, there’s usually a dissent and a need for correction. “But yeah. I prefer girls with experience,” he declares strongly. “They don’t get attached like girls with... less experience do.”

Callum rolls his eyes, bounding down the porch stairs to the recently pressure-washed driveway, and he plucks the basketball out of his hands. “Here we go again. Bucky and his ‘I hate virgin’s’ campaign,” he mocks, shaking his head. “Doesn’t make any sense to me ‘cause everyone knows virgins are the tightest.”

This time, Bucky is the one to roll his eyes. “Well, that doesn’t make any sense considering tightness isn’t dependent upon whether it’s their first time ‘cause, y’know, vaginas stretch, you morons.” Sometimes he has no clue how Callum passed sex education (then he remembers that he bribed the health teacher). “Meaning a girl can have sex, then after a period of time, her virgin ‘tightness’ eventually returns. The only reason virgins may seem tighter is because they’re usually nervous.”

The look on Callum’s face says that what he just said went right over his head. “Whatever.” He shrugs and starts dribbling the ball half-heartedly. “I just know the woman I end up with better be a virgin.”

“Right!” Henry’s likewise orotund voice, a pitch higher, speaks after he pushes through the glass door. He presses to the court-slash-driveway, wiping icing off his mouth. “That’s marriage material. I’m not fucking around in a relationship with no woman that’s been fucked already, y’know?”

Bucky’s eye twitches, jaw locking for a millisecond. “But you guys aren’t even virgins yourself,” he points out their hypocrisy. When they look at him to rebuttal, he automatically knows it’s going to run his blood pressure up and it’s not worth it. “You know, I’m gonna go to the bathroom. You guys have fun with your conversation.”

Swiftly, he whirls around and heads for inside. The last thing he hears is Steve’s ambivalent, “I get the appeal of virgins. But you know, I don’t think it really matters. I think it just matters if you’re into them, and if they’re into you. I wouldn’t care either way but. . .”

The air conditioned air greets him coldly, and he revels in it. The June sun is killer, though perfect weather for playing a game outside, and the chill dries the sweat beaded on his forehead. He pads down the foyer, turns the corner to the bathroom and enters to take a much needed leak.

Bucky has so much brotherly love for your brothers: neighbors since being in diapers, his mother the female figure in their life, and becoming and remaining best friends for over twenty years. There’s only one thing that grates his nerves when it comes to them and that’s their view of women is somewhat skewed. Sometimes—most of the time—went the topic comes up, he’s always one second away from throttling them.

Hopefully after he pisses, they’ll be talking about something else, and finally they all can play basketball. It.

Flushing the toilet, he goes onto wash his hands. He lathers up in orange antibacterial soap and rinses the suds off with hot water. There isn’t a towel, at least not a clean one, so instead he just lets the remaining droplets drip onto the floor.

Emerging from the bathroom, James pauses and absentmindedly wipes his hands dry on his mesh-polyester shorts. His attention automatically draws to the guest room’s closed door adjacent to his position. A decision strikes him, and he steps forward and casts a curious glance down the corner.

When boisterous and distracted laughter filters through the front door and down the empty corridor, it springs him into action. He figures there’s no harm in checking his phone while he’s here. He’d been especially resistant to giving it away because he’s engaged in a particularly stimulating conversation with a particularly titillating woman—popular in her own right, he can’t afford to miss his shot with her.

His fingers turn the knob, and he shoulders through. The furniture is decorated and accented in yellow and white, condition otherwise pristine, save for the phones littered across the king-sized poster bed’s fluffy duvet. He strides across gleaming light oak floors and hones in on the only golden-colored, rubbed encased titanium.

As he grips it, long digits curling around the back, pinkie supporting the bottom, thumb tapping the screen to life, he can hear the dwindling of high-spirited jesting through the en-suite’s rectangular horizontal slider window; a wondering of where he’s gone has him speeding up.

Although he’d been gone for under an hour, his screen is bright with various notifications, social media accounts and text messages. He ignores the former and searches for the latter, specifically the contact, Val 😛💦. Scrolling quickly, he comes to a stop but not because of his original intent.

His head cocks, and he knits his brows when he sees your name instead; formally nicknamed, bambi, due to your penchant for clumsiness and general fragility. You don’t text him—except for that one time you needed to be picked up from the library—and considering you know he’s just outside, his baffled curiosity is further spurred.

With a sideways swipe of his thumb, your thread enlarges on the high-definition display. He isn’t sure what he expected, but this? Oh, this, definitely is not it. His eyes widen as the content loads, and reveals you, in all your half-naked glory.

“Shit,” he breathes out raggedly, blinking multiple times because he has to be seeing things. But, nope, it’s still you—looking like that, wearing that. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Your brothers are beginning to call his name, demanding his attendance, and he froze in shock, unable to tear his stare away from the girl who’s tripped over her own feet more times than he can count; the wallflower who spends all her time studying in her room; the forbidden fruit who’s innocent has always stirred a vigilant feeling inside him—now stirring something hard between his thighs because there you are.

Like always, your hair is done prettily, wispy-lashed eyes big and inviting, a saucy pout to your glossed lips. Your flawless complexion seems to glow in the reflection of the mirror, and he doesn’t know if it’s because of the warm lighting, or if it’s the confidence you exude in your faux-innocent expression from where something so sinfully sexy.

Three photos, and every single one is like a punch in the gut; displaying your usually hoodie-hidden figure in its bare, exquisite form. The skimpy white two-piece caresses your breasts in a lace halter top, leaving a teasing amount of cleavage. Your navel exposed, he becomes aware of how soft your skin would be. Moving lower, your untouched flower is wrapped in a thin thong with a bow on the center of the waistband.

A million things flit through his head; a million disgusting things he never thought he’d think about you.

The main one is every sort of attraction these snapshots arouse. A laser slices down his center and sears him to the core. The multiple poses calls every hungry part of him to attention, the curve of your breasts, the contours of your hips and the jut of your ass. And he shoves to the darkest recess in his mind because that’s just an innate reaction to lingerie. (Right? Right.)

He combats your images with that of Val: knows-what-she’s-doing and equally promiscuous as him Val. The anthropology major who downs beers within seconds and tongue kisses the first person she sees afterwards.

The next is the one he focuses on, that you would take these and send them to him—as if he’d betray your brothers like that. Second-hand embarrassment strikes him because he knows if you’ll send something as risky as this, he’ll have to formally reject you and break your unreciprocated pining heart.

He grimaces at the thought. This is why he doesn’t do virgins and the less experienced in general. The inherent strings are a killer, and he resents the drama; and it’d be ten times worse with you because of the added complications of your siblings.

In fact, he hears something beyond him, coming down the hallway, and it’s probably them, but he can’t stop rereading your text accompanying the photos, partially imagining how it’d sound in your delicate voice:

bambi (4:21PM): is this as pretty as you imagined? did i do good? just tell me what you want, and ill do it. i want you. soon, please - and yes, ill beg. i promise itll sound even better in person.

[read it in its entirety on my patreon - one time fee of $5 to access!]

#bucky x reader #bucky x you smut #bucky barnes imagines #marvel imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel x you #bucky smut series #marvel chaptered fics #my writing #tva

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sdottkrames · 4 years ago

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The World was Wide Enough

@comfortember prompt 8: lashing out

Summary: Peter finds out about Siberia. He’s not very happy about the way Captain America treated his dad mentor. So when he gets hurt on patrol and it’s Cap who comes to help him? Some words are said.

Notes: I’ve had this idea in my head for a long long time, and finally worked up the nerve to do it. I hope y’all like it!

Also, I do NOT hate Steve. I hated Civil War and how they portrayed Tony with a passion, but I adore Steve Rogers with all my heart. Mkay?

Read on AO3: Here

Peter hadn’t meant to hear. He was simply walking by and heard Tony’s voice. He sounded agitated and Peter had just wanted to see if he was okay.

“Listen, guys, I appreciate you apologizing, but what’s done is done. Give it a rest.” Tony said.

“I just...I’m sorry, Tony.” That was Steve. What were they talking about?

“I am as well. Tony, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know they were your parents,” Bucky said.

Now Peter was feeling guilty standing there. He definitely wasn’t supposed to hear this conversation. But like a train wreck, he couldn’t look away.

“Barnes, it was mind control. I’m not saying we’re going to be best friends, but I don’t want to kill you anymore, so it’s a start, alright? Here.” Tony pressed a button and a video pulled onto screen. It played for a second, the sounds of fighting filling Peter’s ears. It took a moment to register that it was Tony and Steve and Bucky fighting. Tony paused the video and clicked delete, but not before it showed Steve drive his shield into Tony’s chest. “There. I’ve been meaning to do that. It’s cathartic, you know. Miracle of forgiveness and all that. Now go. And stop apologizing. We’re cool.”

But Peter was anything but.

His ears were still ringing with the clank of a shield slamming into an arc realtor, his eyes so full of Tony’s scarred, crumpled body, too similar to another scarred, crumpled body from years earlier.

Steve and Bucky turned towards the door, meeting Peter’s eyes, and realizing for the first time that he was there. They’d never seen the normally mild, kind boy look so angry. Their hearts dropped as they realized just what he had seen, how it looked, how it had made him feel.

“How. Dare. You,” Peter spit out before turning on his heel without a second glance behind him at the others who were staring at his retreating back in shock.

***

Peter flipped over the gate at the front of the school, and rushed into a nearby alleyway to change into his Spider-Man suit. The feeling of the suit instantly calmed his anxious energy.

Gosh, he loved being Spider-Man, especially when it allowed him to avoid thinking.

Peter had been avoiding Captain America ever since accidentally seeing the video a few weeks ago, when his world had been shattered. The kind Cap who had taught him how to cook and made him laugh with funny stories had morphed into a cold, heartless man who had nearly killed Tony. Tony might’ve forgiven Cap, but he’d had five years to work that out. Peter was still angry.

Realizing he had worked himself up again with his train of thought, Peter firmly yanked his mask over his head to focus on being Spider-Man.

“Good afternoon, Peter.”

“Hey Karen,” Peter said, grateful for the distraction and friendly voice. “Whatcha got for me today?”

“There’s a robbery happening at that electronics store on 69th street,” she answered.

“Lead the way!” Peter shot a web and followed the route Karen projected to him.

It was a routine, even simple job. Two shots of his web, a couple trademark snappy one-liners, and Peter was out of there. He’d even gotten some free headphones from the store owner.

Then he’d helped a young girl find her mom, rescued a dog that had fallen down a storm drain (the dog’s name was Mina, and she was very cute. Mina’s owner had been beyond grateful), and stopped three different muggings. Overall, it had been a pretty awesome night. Peter was just about to head home when everything went south.

“Peter, there appears to be a lady in distress in an alleyway between 75 and 76th streets,” Karen said. “Would you like me to direct you there?”

“Yeah. I’ll go help, then let the police handle any more situations.”

He should’ve just gone home.

Peter got a few good webs in. He surprised the two muggers, and the lady used his entrance as a chance to grab her purse and run away.

“I’d say see you around, but I honestly hope I won’t,” he quipped to the men stuck on the wall. He was about to shoot a web to swing out and let the police take care of the two criminals, but stopped as a tingle raced down his spine. It was too late. Before he could move, a gunshot tore through the alleyway.

Instantly, pain exploded in Peter’s right shoulder. He turned to see the gunman, a nondescript man wearing a hat to shadow his face. Peter forced back the nausea and pain to web him up next to his friends.

“Shooting people in the back? Not cool man,” he said, gritting his teeth and swinging to the top of a nearby building before collapsing against the wall. “Karen,” he gasped. “Call Tony!”

Peter was starting to see spots. He could feel the blood coming from his shoulder and the pain was radiating all over.

“Pete!” Friday must have alerted him already, because Tony's voice was frantic. “Hang on, buddy. I’m coming, okay? Just sit tight. I’m on my way!”

“It hurts.”

“I know. I know. Just hang on.”

Tony's panicked voice was interrupted by another one, equally as panicked.

“Peter?” Steve Rogers stood on the rooftop, staring in shock and worry at the boy slumped against the wall.

“Is that Steve?” Tony asked.

“Yeah. I’ll see you soon.”

“Wait, no, Pete!” Tony called, but Peter had already hung up.

“What’re you doing here?” Peter glared at Steve, the anger seeping in and turning his voice into daggers.

“I was out following a lead on a hydra base when I got a notification from Friday saying you were hurt and I-“

“You what?” Peter asked harshly. “Thought that you’d play hero and I’d just forget about the fact that you never cared about me, or about Tony!” Peter was crying now, and he thoughtlessly tried to wipe the tears away, but cried out as the movement made a sharp stab of pain shoot through his whole body. The pain became too much, and Peter started slipping into darkness. Steve’s frantic face was the last thing he saw before he was totally unconscious.

***

“-wouldn’t let me anywhere near him. Tony, I need you to know that I’m sorry. I never meant for a rift like that to happen.”

Peter heard Tony sigh, heard the rustle as he ran his hands through his hair. “Listen, capsicle, I know. We’ve put that behind us. I’ll talk to the kid. He just...he lost his dad and his uncle before, and I think he’s a little protective. He’ll come around, though. He won’t admit it cause he’s nearly as stubborn as I was at his age, but I can tell he misses you.”

“Okay.” Steve sounded dejected, and Peter’s head and heart declared war.

On the one hand, it killed Peter to hear the man he’d admired for so long sound so dejected and to know that he was the cause of Steve’s distress. He never wanted to hurt anybody, let alone one of his heroes who had become family.

On the other, Peter’s head was holding tenaciously to his absolute loyalty to Tony, and the anger and hurt he felt that Steve, his “uncle” Steve, his hero had nearly killed his dad. Because, honestly, wasn’t that what Tony was at this point? There was no use denying it anymore. And Peter just couldn’t lose another father.

As he battled within himself, he heard Steve leave, and Tony came and sat in the chair beside his bed.

“I know you’re awake.”

Shoot.

“Playing dead isn’t going to stop this conversation from happening, Peter.”

He opened his eyes.

“Yeah, hi. First off, how are you feeling?” Tony's voice softened.

“Hurts, but I’m feeling better,” Peter said, wincing as he shifted into a more upright position.

“Careful there,” Tony fussed. “Don’t pop a stitch. Cho says you are incredibly lucky. The bullet hit just the right spot to miss the bones and arteries, so you should be alright in, oh, a day or two.”

“Okay.”

“Second, that's for scaring me!” Tony hit the back of Peter's head gently. “And third,” Peter looked away, but Tony gently pulled his face back to look into his eyes. His voice was incredibly gentle. “You need to let it go with Cap, okay? The guy’s apologized about 30 times to me, and i know he’s only refrained from apologizing to you because he doesn’t have a phone and you’ve been avoiding him like the plague.”

Peter couldn’t deny it.

“I’ve forgiven him, okay?” Tony continued. “Now, and I know it’ll take some time, and you are entitled to that time, but now you need to forgive him, too. I wasted too much time holding onto anger and grudges. I don’t want you to go through that.”

Peter felt the tears running down his cheeks, leaving a scalding trail, and Tony gently wiped them. Peter gave a small nod.

“Okay, Tony.”

A noise from the doorway made both of them look up. Steve was standing there, looking unsure of himself as he shuffled from one foot to the other.

Shooting Peter a look, Tony stood up. “I’m going to go get some coffee. I’ll be back in a little bit.” He patted Steve’s shoulder as he left, and gently pushed him towards the bed.

Peter was suddenly very interested in the plain blue hospital sheets that had been there for years, and he picked at them for a couple heavy seconds before taking a breath.

“You can come in and sit down, Steve,” he said softly.

“Thanks.”

The chair squeaked as Steve sat down, and for some reason, it made Peter smile. He looked at Steve and saw a matching smile forming in response on the older hero’s face. At the small, mundane moment, something unlocked inside Peter.

It’s said that a journey of a thousand miles starts with one step, or that forever is made up of tiny moments. That tiny moment was the first step, and Peter took a breath as he began to let go of the anger he’d been holding on to for weeks and let himself face it.

“Listen, Steve, I should’ve come and talked to you before. I was just so angry, and afraid.”

“I understand.” Steve’s voice was so soft and gentle, and Peter felt the last of the fight leave him. “I know that you lost your father and your uncle, and it kills me to know that I was almost the reason you lost another one. I’m so sorry.”

Peter measured his next words carefully, searching himself to make sure he really meant them. “I forgive you. I forgive you, Steve. If you and Tony are good, then we’re good.” Peter hesitated. “Or we will be. I mean, I’d like to try. If you can forgive me, too?”

Steve didn’t hesitate. “Of course I do, Pete. And I’d like to try, as well. I’ve missed our cooking classes.”

Peter smiled, and ever so carefully moved over a little. He patted the bed next to him and Steve, eyes as big as saucers, climbed in slowly, mindful not to jostle Peter’s wound. Peter leaned into his side.

“I’ve missed you, too, Uncle Steve.”

Tears filled Steve’s eyes at the name, which he hadn’t heard for weeks. His heart swelled, knowing they really were on the way to forgiveness.

Soon, Peter was snoring softly, the pain and medication dragging him back into unconsciousness quickly. Steve was trapped, immobilized by the common knowledge that one does not move when a puppy (or would Peter be more of a kitten?) falls asleep on you. But Steve didn’t mind. He was just grateful to have his nephew back again.

#comfortember #comfortember 2020 #mine #i love my iron dad and spidey son #Peter and Steve friendship needs to be more common #oh captain my captain

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nope-we-are-friends-now · 5 years ago

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Soulmate AU

Reposted because I accidentally deleted it.

Title: Traveled the Universe Just to Meet You.

Tenth Doctor x Gender Neutral Reader, featuring Donna Noble

A/N: This fic took three weeks in total to write; the first 3,600 words took two days to write and the last 700 words took two of the three weeks. hahahaha…….why?

Also, I wanted to add more like include adventures and develop the readers and the Doctors relationship but it was already too long. Thinking about writing a part 2 but I also have a few other fics I wanna write soo…

Word count: 5070

Soulmate. Someone who understands, believes in, and inspires you. Someone once a stranger becomes a person you can’t imagine live without.

As children, a soulmate’s presence isn’t all there. A numbness resides in the Soullux, the organ that handles feeling one’s soulmate. In childhood, it isn’t mature enough to project one’s soulmate emotions. But, every so often a child would feel something like a light breeze on a hot summer day. The phenomenal sensation of stretching after waking up. The feeling one gets after cleaning out their room.

You were a bit different from other children. See, you were born with Lonely Soul syndrome, a disease that affects one out of 14,530,000 people. Now, this syndrome doesn’t mean you don’t have a soulmate. You were born with your Soullux fully formed, meaning you constantly felt your soulmate. Doctors gave it such a saddening name because of the effects. Children suffering from this often are forced to mature earlier, they struggle with emotions, and experience periods of desolation. Doctors recommend therapy and if needed, medicine.

You were five when you went to your first soul therapy session. Your family didn’t think you needed it, seeing as you were a typical child. Happy some days, moody others, but they promised you a present after the appointment, so you went.

The therapist’s room was bright. There were small toys on small shelves, posters with words you couldn’t quite read, but knew you’ve seen before. On the ground was a rug with houses and roads on it, you thought it was cool.

The therapist walks into the room and smiles at you, “Did you find a toy you like, Y/n?” She asks, she only just told you her name, yet you forgot it and didn’t want to make her feel sad, so you didn’t ask. Instead, you nod and point at the Lego box sitting on the rug.

You were building a house when she speaks again, “how are you, Y/N?”

“I’m sad.” The therapist said earlier that you could talk to her about anything that was on your mind, so you did.

“Do you know why?” She’s sitting on the rug with you. It’s odd, adults don’t sit on the ground and they certainly don’t play with Legos. You decide she wasn’t an adult, just a big kid.

You’re not sure what to say so you let your mouth run, “My soulmate,” you begin. With the blue house finished, you start to reach for the Lego people, “isn’t an animal.”

She doesn’t say anything, but she does hand you the last Lego person. With the perfect amount of people around the house, you start to work on a car. Cars have always been difficult for you to build.

“It sucks. I heard that some people have animals as their soulmates and I was hoping I would too. But I don’t.” You huffed.

“Why would you want an animal as a soulmate?”

Shocked with disbelief you dropped a Lego piece. Maybe she really was an adult? “Because animals are cool. At first, I wanted them to be a horse, ‘cause that would be awesome, but then I realized that if they were a cat or dog then I could cuddle with them every night.” Excitement washes over you. Yet, when reality hits, you feel like the car you stopped building, unfinished and misshaped.

“Well, who says you can’t cuddle with your soulmate?”

“Pets have fur. That means they’re always warm and soft. People don’t have fur.”

“Y/n,” She says softly, you like the sound of her voice. It’s not wheezy like your neighbor, Ms. Henson’s nor is it high-pitched like your babysitter. “Do you like to cuddle with from your family members?”

“Yeah,”

“So, why do you think it’s different from your soulmate?”

Well, you think, my family always acts weird when I talk about them. You’re not sure why though, your soulmate feels like blowing dandelions and eating your favorite fruit. What could be so wrong about that? You don’t tell your therapist that though. “Maybe,” you start hesitantly, when she nods her head, you’re back to being excited, “maybe we could get a pet too? Then I could cuddle with both at the same time.”

“Maybe,” She agrees with you, “Y/n, that’s a lot of people at the blue house. Do you think we should build them another house?” Looking at the blue house you see the eight people surrounding it.

“No.”

It happened after dinner. At first, you didn’t know what it was, you only knew it was something coming from your soulmate. Lately, your soulmate has been like an ocean, waves of strong emotions crash down on you. It leaves you wanting to crawl into bed and stay there all day. Every time it happens you could hear your family whispering through the door. You knew it wasn’t normal, but you couldn’t control it.

You head to your room and shut the door. Everyone always found out when you have an ‘episode’, but sometimes you could hide how long it went on. You expected it to be the same as the other times. This, however, was nothing like you ever experienced before.

It starts with a spicy taste in your mouth. A ringing in your ears. Underneath your skin, something wants liberation. You try to hold it in, but it burns.

You blink and the next thing you know your bedroom is a wreck.

On the floor near your desk was a torn paper with a smiley face. Bending down you picked up the paper to see that it was your math test. You had practice from the moment you came home until dinnertime for it. You didn’t ace it, but it was the highest grade you got so far, and you were so proud you put a smiley face on it. It was ripped up into three pieces. Really, it wasn’t a big deal. You were only seven years old and you would have many other tests this year alone, let alone for the rest of your academic life. It isn’t a big deal. So, why were you kneeling on the ground with tears blurring your vision? Why were your hands wrapped around yourself, silent snivels escaping you? Why were you pressing your face to the floor in hopes that your family wouldn’t hear? If it wasn’t a big deal, why does it hurt so much?

Someone opens up your door and gasps. They hold you as you try to remember how to breathe.

(Afterward, they help you tape up your test and you wonder if taping your heart back together will be as easy.)

They hand you a broom along with trash bags and tell you to face the consequences of your actions.

Bed overturned, clothes ripped apart, posters and old homework assignments shredded up.

The burning sensation lessens to a simmer and you’re left all alone.

With a look, around the room you think, Anger. This is what anger looks like.

Months pass by, and you grew an inch. The sun brings heat and with it comes water balloon fights and laughter. With a group of classmates, you compare birthmarks and scars. With the sun shining down on you, you think, happiness is bright.

You had finished brushing your teeth and were pulling silly faces and grinning at the mirror. That’s when you felt it. This new emotion is bitter and cold.

The you in the mirror starts to glare at you, baring their teeth like a wild animal. They mouth words that feel like ice water. “Stop it,” you say, “go away.” You glare back and mirror you smiles. “You’re my reflection. If I leave, you’ll be nothing.”

Mirror you silently laughs at you and you punch them. “I hate you.” You shout. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate-” You punch at the mirror repeatedly and mirror you starts to bleed. The glass shatters. A piece of the mirror slightly larger than your hand sits in the sink with drops of blood resting on it and you smirk. Only then do you see your fists. Bruised and bleeding, your blood stains the bathroom floor. You close your eyes in hopes that you don’t see your reflection.

When someone comes to check on the noise and see you there, they carefully drag you out and scold you. They clean your fist and check for glass, then they bandaged your hands and sigh. As they clean up, you sit in your room.

(“why are you so broken?” Mirror you shouts. “Why can’t you be normal?”)

Staring at your bandaged fists, you think, hatred is a violent emotion.

Nearly a year passes by when the next wave hits. Unlike anger, this emotion does not burn you. Instead, it lingers in everything you do, every day, every moment. It waits. It makes you silent at the moments you want to speak, and it makes you cry when you want to laugh. It waits. You can’t explain it to anyone, they don’t understand. This emotion waits until you are truly alone when it strikes.

At eight years old, you learn a hard fact.

(If anger burns, happiness shines, hatred bruises, and love heals. Then sadness takes it all, swallows it whole, leaving you to wonder if anything was there in the first place.)

The increased therapy sessions and nervous glances from family members lets you know something is up. With a little snooping around, you find out what. Hurrying back to your room you lean against your door and stare at the pamphlet. “Why choose Soullux removal?” The pamphlet shows happy people doing everyday things. You read the pamphlet three times. Each time deepens the sick feeling you have.

Soullux removal.

Doctors found out that humans don’t need a Soullux to survive. “The organ is not like the Heart,” the pamphlet reads, “one could live a healthy and even happy life without a soulmate.” It goes on and on talking about how many famous and successful people have removed their Soullux so that they can “focus on more important things.”

Seconds later, you realize your family wants you to get the surgery.

No, you think. Never.

Angry you make your way to the living room and seeing as everyone is there, you erupt.

“No. It’s not right. I won’t do it. You can’t take them away from me.,” You shout. “I won’t do it. You all have your soulmates. If you want Soullux removal, get it yourselves!” By the end of your speech, you’re panting, your vision is blurry, sniffs do nothing to help with the snot dripping out of your nose.

“Soullux removal?” One of them says, “Y/n, we would never.”

You throw the pamphlet on the table. “Yeah, right.”

“That was in my room. Y/n, you know you not allowed in there.”

“And you not allowed to steal my soulmate from me, but that’s exactly what you were planning.”

“Y/n, you-”

“-Even though it was wrong of you to sneak into their room,” a different family member interrupts, “Y/n, it’s important for you to know we would never do that without talking to you.”

After all the emotions cooled down you all talked. They handed you a different pamphlet. This one talks about pills you could take to “lessen the intense feelings your broken soulmate forces on you.”

“Broken” soulmates are soulmates with such mental and/or physical “problems” that causes their soulmates to feel the pain of their disorder. These pills eventually block you from feeling your soulmate entirely.

As you read the pamphlet, you note all the times it says broken. Three.

Broken. Like that time, you accidentally dropped a bowl and it shattered. Broken. Like when your classmate broke their arm, and everyone wanted to sign it. Broken.

They think your soulmate is broken. They want you to abandon them.

You want to throw up.

No. You think, you can’t take them from me. I won’t abandon them so please don’t take them from me. Please. Please. Don’t. They’re not broken. Please don’t take them from me. I’ll do anything, please.

“Please,” you say, “Please. Don’t. Please.” And you repeat those words over and over.

At the age of thirteen, you give up on your soulmate. You tried, honestly. You read every book, watched every video, and even posted on all kinds of forums online in hopes of finding a way to help, but nothing was working. You were useless.

Really, it was your soulmates’ fault. No one could constantly be sad, angry, and full of self-hate, right?

It makes you wonder though. What was it about your soulmate that they only felt those three emotions? Was someone doing terrible things to them? Or were they terrible people?

You didn’t know. What you did know however was that you couldn’t help them. You wanted to continue listening to music on your bed thinking sad thoughts, but you needed to clean out your room. You’ve been putting it off for weeks. And that’s what you did, for about the first fifteen minutes, but then you found an old shoebox in your closet. You couldn’t leave it, could you?

In the shoebox were tiny trinkets and a stack of letters all addressed to someone you’ve never met.

You remember when you started going on little adventures after your soulmate started to feel down. You were only seven then.

The idea was you would go on fun adventures like those happy kids on TV. You figured that your soulmate had Lonely Soul syndrome too, then they would feel your happiness. If they couldn’t be happy themselves, you would share yours. Then you thought that if you saved tiny gifts and letters when you finally meet them you could give it to them. If they knew you cared for them, maybe, just maybe, a bit of their sadness would go away.

You didn’t think about the shoebox in months. You wonder what younger you would say if they knew you gave up on your soulmate just like everyone else.

You open one of the letters.

Dear Soul Mate,

Hello, it’s me.

I’m seven now, but my birtday is in a few weeks. You’ve been sad lately and I’m here to tell you that won’t do.

That won’t do.

See ya, Y/n.

That was all the letter read. No adventure no nothing. You shoved the letter back in the envelope and grab another one.

Dear Soul Mate,

My family thinks you’re broken. I don’t know if your family thinks that about you too, and maybe that’s why you are sad all the time. But you should know that I don’t think you are. I don’t think people can break. Sometimes it might feel like it though. Sometimes it might feel like shards of who you used to be are missing and no matter how many times you try to piece yourself together again you don’t fit. You might feel defeated and completely alone. But you are not an object. You are not glass that can be shattered. Broken means that you’ve given up, and you haven’t. You’re still, living, breathing, feeling. As long as you are still alive, you are still fighting. You’re not what people define you as, you’re just you and that’s all you need to be.

I wish I could promise that I would always be there for you, but I can’t. I wish I could tell you that I believe in you, but I’m not sure you care about what a stranger thinks. I can promise you that I’m telling the truth when I say that you are the strongest person I know. Everything you feel is whole and true. Your anger, your hate, and your sadness feels like it consumes you, but underneath it all, you have pure wonder, unconditional love, and constant kindness. You amaze me. Despite never meeting you, I know you. And I am proud to have you as my soulmate.

See ya soon, Y/n.”

You don’t remember writing that. You didn’t even know you could write like that. Honestly, you were expecting all the letters to be like the first one.

It was harder these days to feel the emotions younger you talked about. These days all your soulmate felt was sadness and hate.

Maybe writing one more letter couldn’t hurt, right? Beats cleaning your room.

Why the heck were you in the park? You have an essay that’s due soon and yet here you were sitting on a park bench.

A quick look around shows an average park. Trees, benches, grass, and a playground with a group of teenagers.

They had to be older than you by a good three years.The way they were standing was weird.Four of the five teens were facing the last one, a girl. You didn’t like the smug looks on their faces.

The girl was shouting. Her back rigid and arms crossed.“We’re soulmates.” She practically shouts. “What do you mean you don’t need me?”

You should leave.

“It means I would rather get that surgery everyone talks about than have you as a soulmate. Look at you, you’re worthless.” He says. You could see his hideous smirk from where you stood. His friends holding onto one another as they laugh.

Her shoulders shake and-

“Hey,” You don’t even register the fact that you’ve spoken until everyone’s looking at you. “Don’t you think this is a private conversation between the two of you, you know, in private?”

“Who the hell are you?” Of all things, you didn’t expect the girl to shout at you full force.

“I’m just your common citizen trying to run away from my responsibilities, so if you could quiet down that would be great.”

“Kid, why don’t you mind your own business?” Jerk face asks.

By now you are standing face to face with Jerk face and his groupies. You turn to the girl who looks like she’s in complete shock. Her face is red and eyes puffy. “Normally I would. But I think you should leave.”

“Or what?”

“Run.” You tell her.

“What?” She whispers.

Jerk face is still smirking. You want nothing more than to punch him in the face, but you can’t. Instead, you kick him where it hurts and with the girl in tow you dash out of there.

After a while, you two reach a neighborhood. You didn’t recognize it, but it seemed like a good enough place to rest.

“Why did you do that?” The girl asks.

“I know, I should have punched him, but,” you hold up your dominant hand, “I need this hand to write my letters, they’re important.”

“Letters? how old are you?”

“I’m Fourteen.”

“And you write letters?”

“Yeah,”

That’s all it takes to set her off. She starts to laugh and can’t stop. Bent over, hugging herself, she laughs until she can’t breathe.

You don’t mean to ruin the moment, but you do. “Your soulmate is a jerk.”

“Lance,”

“What?”

“His name is Lance.”

“Yeah, well, Lance is a jerk, and as your friend, I suggest slapping him the next time you see him.”

“Friend?” Her laugh turns a little hollower, “you don’t even know me.”

“Well then, let’s get to know each other. Name’s Y/n.”

She looks at you, stares as if trying to decide whether or not you’re screwing with her.

She nods then, “I’m Donna,” she says, “Donna Noble.”

You decided to walk Donna home. She’s quiet; a direct contradiction to earlier. You understood what it was like to have a lot on your mind, so you tried to stay quiet as well. It was Donna who ended the silence.

“I always thought that I would find my soulmate and we would fall in love. That I would get what my parents have. My mom always told me ‘your soulmate is exactly what you deserve and everything you’ll ever need.’” Tears fall from her eyes, but with a deep breath she continues, “He is exactly what I deserve. My one and only soulmate.” She laughs bitterly.

You wish you knew what to say. You wish you could pluck the right words out of the air and weave sentences so beautiful Donna would stop laughing and start smiling.

Over the years as you watched friends and family find their soulmates you learned that just because people can feel their soulmate doesn’t mean they truly understand them or their life experiences. That takes work and commitment. It is odd to think about however; knowing someone deeply, yet at the same time not at all.

“Maybe, soul- people,” you correct yourself after Donna flinches at the s word. Yeah, there were some days where that word burned you as well, “maybe, people aren’t supposed to fill a missing hole in you. Maybe they’re just the cherry on top.”

You reach her house and she points you towards her kitchen when you ask for a glass of water.

In the kitchen, are who you assume are Donna’s parents. Music and laughter fill the air and the two of them are eating. With such soft smiles and tender touches, you could tell they were deeply in love. It was as if they were the only ones in the room.

“Here.” Donna hands you a glass of water.

You were so captivated by her parents you didn’t notice Donna slip pass you. A glance at the two eating shows they haven’t even noticed two people in the room with them.

“Thank you, Donna.” You practically shout. Everyone looks at you oddly, but at least your plan works.

The day you turned thirty, your life took an odd turn.

Technically it started six months before that.

See, Donna started a temp job at the same place Lance the Jerk works. Apparently, as Lance claimed, he was a changed man. He said he wanted to start fresh with Donna. Donna was all for forgiving him. (“Y/n, he brings me coffee every day. Me. Coffee!”)

You felt there was something odd about the whole thing though.

It wasn’t the fact that the best friend rulebook states that you have to hate him for how he hurt your best friend.

It also wasn’t because he never once apologized to Donna. (Saying “I was only a kid at the time,” is not an apology.)

The problem is you didn’t think Lance was the right person for Donna, ironically enough. Donna is full of life, she’s loud, kind, and slightly ignorant, Donna is passionate. Lance is indifferent, he’s judgmental and arrogant.

Seeing the two of them together puts a sour taste in your mouth. Aside from a few subtle comments, you haven’t really talked to Donna about it. How could you tell her you thought her soulmate wasn’t right for her? Maybe you were reading too much into it? You hope Donna sees something in him that you are overlooking, you hope Lance has a better side of him that he shows Donna.

You wanted nothing more than for Donna to be happy. If it means holding your tongue around Lance, you would duct tape your mouth shut.

Donna tells you she wants to marry him, and you play the role of the excited best friend.

It happens on the day of your thirtieth birthday, two weeks before Donna’s wedding. Donna throws you a big surprise party, but halfway through she disappears. Nerys-why is she here? You don’t even know her, and Donna hates her- tells you that she vanished into golden dust, but you figured she was wasted. You ask around, but no one’s seen Donna.

Soon, the party is over, and you still don’t know where Donna is.

When you get home, you find Donna sitting in your kitchen, a cup of tea in her hands. Her hair is a mess, clothes tore and she was soaking wet. How in the world?

“Donna? I was looking everywhere for you. I almost punched like three people when they said you were-”

Donna rushes into your arms. She’s shaking, holding you as if you are the only thing in life that makes sense.

“Donna?” Sighing, you hug her back. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

After Donna is clean and in dry clothes she talks.

She tells you that Lance was lying. That he was in love? With a spider? And there was a doctor trying to help. The spiders died. Lance died. Thames flooded? Or was it drained? Honestly, you couldn’t really make out much of what she was saying with her face buried in your shoulder, tears staining your clothes. All that matter was that your best friend needed you. You held her until her sobs turned to snores.

Donna spends the next year traveling, learning, and looking for trouble.

You spend the year working, paying bills, and wishing you could do the same as Donna.

When Donna calls you to excitedly tell you that she’s speaking Latin of all things, you decided enough was enough.

Three hours later, you meet up at a small café.

You see Donna the moment you walk in the café. She’s sitting at a table for four with a man beside her. Both of them seem to be having an interesting conversation because both of them can’t seem to stop laughing.

The sight brings a smile to your face.

When someone walks into the café, Donna glances up and meets your eye. She stands, waves her hands in the air, practically shouts your name.

Before the temptation to act like you don’t know her kicks in; you rush to her. The hug she pulls you in is unexpected but nice.

“Oh, I haven’t seen you in months!”

You don’t say anything. Instead, you run your eyes over Donna. Taking a step back you notice that the Donna before you is different from the one you saw a few days ago. There’s something about this Donna that makes her shine. Maybe a new haircut?

“Did you get a tan?” You notice it then; Donna definitely got a tan but… a quick look at the window shows you that it is still pouring out just like it has for the last week.

Donna laughs and drags you to the table. She introduces you to the man whose name is the Doctor and you say hello. It’s as he’s about to reply that you feel it. A wave of happiness hits you like a smack upside the head and spins your world around. Colors are brighter and what once was gloomy rain is now the water that brings life to mother nature. Too busy looking around you miss everything the man, the Doctor, was saying.

“Sorry about that.” You give a sheepish smile. The Doctor grins. With one hand ruffling his hair, he leans towards you from across the table.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Nothing, I think it’s just my soulmate.” The last bit of the sentence comes out as a question.

“Them again? Listen Y/n the second I meet this bloke, I tell you what, I’m gon- ”

“Donna you are not going to assault my soulmate.” Donna ‘offers’ to slap your soulmate every time they feel something other than happiness. You can’t help your smile grow though; before Donna you never really had someone who was ready to fight anyone who hurts you.

“What’s wrong with your soulmate?” The Doctor raises an eyebrow. “I think your soulmate is perfectly fine. In fact, I’d go so far as to say this is one of the greatest days of their life.”

“And why is that?” You don’t notice that you are leaning towards him.

“Well,” he drags the word out, “I think he just met his soulmate.”

It takes a moment for your brain to process what he said. When you do, you jump from your seat spinning around to search for him. “What? Where is he?” Your heart is pounding.

From a distance, you hear Donna whisper an “Oh my God.”

“If my soulmate is here why doesn’t he come up to me?”

You turn to Donna after she calls your name, “your soulmate is right in front of you.”

Looking from Donna to the Doctor to Donna again you open your mouth and- “Donna,” you sigh, “you are not my soulmate.”

Slumping down into the chair, you rest your elbow on the table with your chin in your hand.“You guys really got me excited for nothing.” You pout. Your other hand plays with the teacup in the center of the table.

“Um, if your soulmate was right in front of you what would you want him to do?” The Doctor asks.

“Anything really. A simple ‘Hello’ and their name is good enough.”

“Hello. I’m the Doctor.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve already introduced yourself.”

“You spend all this time waiting for your soulmate and now that he’s in front of you, you can’t see him? Y/n you are an idiot.”

“What are you talking about? The only people in front of me is you tw-ooh.” Looking at the Doctor, you don’t know how you feel. The best way to describe it would be dancing. It’s like back when you were a teenager listening to music in your room. The music turned on loud, your door closed, and you start to dance. Jumping around, singing, and having fun, the joy you feel from hearing your favorite song runs through your veins; nothing could ruin the moment. As you spin around, in the midst of singing your favorite verse, someone opens the door. The two of you stare at one another as you wait for them to decide if they want to embarrass you by walking away or join in on the dancing.

That is the best way you can describe how you feel.

That happiness with a side of embarrassment.

The Doctor and Donna spend the next few hours explaining who the Doctor is, what they do, and all the places they visited. They told you about the chaos, the fun, and the universe. If you were anybody else, you would have gone into shock and cancel the whole day. However, you are you and so the only thing you can do after discovering that aliens exist is laugh. Because your soulmate is an alien who travels all of time and space in a phone box and your best friend, Donna Noble-

“My best friend traveled across the universe and brought me back my soulmate.”

#Tenth Doctor #doctor who #the doctor #Donna Noble #x reader #doctor x reader #gender neutral reader #general neutral pronouns #male reader #female reader #soulmate au #soulmate #Doctor Who fanfic #doctor who x reader #10th doctor x reader #ten x reader #dw

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supergraphicultramoderngirl · 5 years ago

Text

i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you

summary: cyrus and tj are childhood best friends. tj’s there for him when cyrus comes out to his family and it doesn’t go well, he watches him grow up and be proud of who he is, and he may or may not fall in love in the process. the only issue is, he’s not nearly as proud of himself as cyrus is. and yeah, cyrus is always gonna be there for tj, but now, a recent college grad, he’s done hiding. will they make it out together?

word count: 6.2K

(hey so i kinda accidentally deleted the whole thing and lost all of my formatting so other than the major flashbacks the previously italicized things aren’t anymore and it bugs me too but just like,, deal with it)

taglist: @citrus-thelonious @heart-eyes-kippen @danceacademys @kippenmittens @vi-the-best-you-can @tjskipping @simplycyrus @luzawithoutu @lizzybeth-eleventyseven @green-lemonboys @oblivioustj @theobligatedklutz @nineteenohtwo @theconfusedravenclaw @i-swear-its-just-me @bambiandambi @isisisak @fallout-of-my-chair

“TJ?” Cyrus’ voice shook, cracking from the tears, but whispered from fear of his parents overhearing.

TJ may have been asleep before, but he sure as hell wasn’t now, hearing that tone in his best friend’s voice. “Cyrus? What’s wrong?”

His tone remained hushed, even less stable than before, “Can I stay over at your house tonight?”

TJ glanced over at his clock. 2:38am. Why now?

“Please,” Cyrus choked out.

TJ didn’t even hesitate in answering, “Of course. Come in through my window, okay?”

Not even ten minutes later, Cyrus crawled through the window and stood for a moment before body racking sobs erupted from him. It was painful to watch, and TJ wanted to burn alive whatever could’ve possibly made him feel that way. He didn’t deserve that. He never could.

Cyrus collapsed into TJ, who gripped him like he was falling off the edge of the earth. He knew for a fact then that he would always be there to catch him.

But Cyrus was gone before TJ woke up that morning.

———

“Hey,” TJ caught up to Cyrus while walking in the hallway towards their history class. To say that he was scared for his friend after what happened the night before was an understatement. “Are you okay?”

Cyrus laughed incredulously, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He hoisted his textbooks closer to his chest.

TJ furrowed his brows. “Last ni—“

“I don’t want to talk about it.” The look on his face was something terrifying. His lips were pressed into a tight smile, but his eyes told three stories at once. They told him to shut up, they told him he was angrier than TJ had ever seen him, they told him that he was still aching, still crushed from whatever happened.

“Okay,” TJ spoke slowly, “but you know I’ll always be here for you, right? No matter what’s going on?”

Cyrus’ hard visage almost melted for a second, like he wanted to cave in so badly, but after a flicker of fear sparked in his eyes, he shifted his gaze to his feet and continued walking.

“Yeah. I know.”

———

“What do you mean you’re ‘not gay anymore’? That isn’t exactly something you can just switch on and off, you know,” Buffy retorted, bewildered by the words coming out of her best friend’s mouth. Andi sat beside her, equally surprised and confused.

“I mean, I’m not gay anymore. It was a mistake, I probably just judged my feelings wrong or something,” Cyrus mumbled, then sighed, straightening up in his seat. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, alright?”

“Too bad, because something obviously happened if you went from total heart eyes with Jonah and TJ and running away after kissing Iris to suddenly being straight, so spill,” Buffy pushed back, trying to make sense of her friend’s behavior.

Andi leaned forward, taking his hands in hers. “Look, Cyrus, you don’t have to tell us anything, but we’re here for you no matter what, okay? We’re always gonna be here for you.”

His eyes grew misty despite not losing their closed-off demeanor, and he threw them a watery smile. “Thanks. I...” he trailed off. “I want to tell you, but I can’t. I want to tell you so badly, you know.” He stood up then, grabbing his coat. “I’m just gonna take off and head home,” he paused, “see you guys later.”

Andi and Buffy shared a worried look, shoving their baby taters away from them a bit.

They lost their appetite.

———

Sophomore year just began, and yet TJ was swamped with homework already, which became his primary focus on his walk home from school. This explains why he ran directly into someone while trying to think through his schedule, and how the hell he was possibly going to handle math this year.

TJ quickly moved to apologize, “Oh, sorry— Cyrus? Hey, what’re you doing?”

Cyrus gave him a tight-lipped smile. It’d been two years since they last talked, two years and a little bit more since that night. “I’m on my way to Andi’s,” he explained.

TJ looked down, squinting. “With two suitcases and a duffel bag?”

Cyrus nodded, yanking his jacket to cover his torso more. “Yep.”

TJ grew even more obviously concerned. “Is everything alright?”

Cyrus closed his eyes and took a terse sigh. “Everything is fine, TJ. Mind your business, please.” He shoved past the taller boy, making his way to, presumably, Andi’s house.

•••

“For two years, I’ve let you all do this to me. I’ve tried to be the mediator, I’ve tried to repress it all, but for god’s sakes, you’re all the therapists here! This is your job! Not only as a therapist, but as a parent, you should support and be there for your kids!” He took a sigh. “This is not just something I’m confused about, alright? This is a part of me that I’ve known for years, and a part of me that I’ve had for even longer. You don’t get to choose what parts of me you want around, you get all of me, or none at all. Take your pick.”

His mother closed her eyes, while the other three adults stared at him with disdain and pity, something you should never be getting from your fucking parents. “If you’re going to choose to continue living this way, then I guess we’re forced to say none at all, Cyrus.”

Cyrus’ hand shook as he pointed at her. “You are not forced in this situation, Mom. You are the one making a choice, not me.”

“Just make this easier on everyone and start packing your things,” his father interjected.

Cyrus did so, body-racking sobs overtaking him all the meanwhile, reminding him of the first time he’d tried to bring this up around them, the last time he had his rock still around.

The four adults watched him leave, they watched as he stopped himself in the doorway and turned back to say to them. “If you really think I’m going to hell, I’ll see you all there.”

The door slammed shut, and yet it was the most silent moment that house had ever had.

•••

Two weeks after their run-in, TJ spots Cyrus waltzing into school with a pride pin adorning his typical polo shirt.

Cyrus may have been proud of himself, but TJ was almost prouder.

———

The first time Cyrus got a boyfriend was when TJ really noticed it. The weird aching yet stabbing feeling in his chest, that wait, something is wrong here feeling.

That green-eyed monster feeling.

Had TJ thought it was weird he’d never really gotten a crush before while all of his friends would talk about girls all the time? No, maybe he was just a late bloomer, he presumed. Did he feel off whenever one of his teammates comments on how hot a girl is and he can’t bring himself to understand why he thinks that? No, he probably just didn’t think that specific girl was cute. Right?

Did TJ notice a weird fluttery feeling, a swoop in his stomach, something his friends only associated with their girlfriends, every time he saw Cyrus as of late? Hell yeah, he did.

And it was terrifying.

When Cyrus got a boyfriend, it made it even worse. Especially when everyone kept saying that they were shoe-ins for homecoming royalty, and that they would be the two to make it all the way past college, that they were perfect for each other. Especially since this was the period of time that Cyrus chose to become better friends with TJ again, because he “missed his company”.

Yeah, okay, guess he’ll just deal with it then. Right?

———

The universe was now obviously out to get him. That had to be it.

Two more years passed, TJ’s crush didn’t let up, and neither did his guard. He remained heavily in the closet, and was prepared to stay there for potentially the rest of his life. It’s not like people wouldn’t support him, I mean, there’s only two homophobic assholes at their school and TJ could definitely handle them, plus, his mom seemed pretty open-minded with things. The whole concept to him was just terrifying. Too many layers of different.

Anyways, two years passed, and TJ received a text from his best friend that would either ruin or save his life.

Him and Cyrus got into the same college. Cyrus’ boyfriend did not.

The universe had to be fucking with him, at this point, like come on.

———

TJ’s night before graduation was surprisingly filled with pints of ice cream and cheesy romcoms that were easy to make fun of.

Oh yeah, Cyrus’ boyfriend broke up with him that day, something about not wanting to deal with an LDR, and that he wasn’t expecting it to last, anyway. Naturally, TJ stepped in to his role as best friend and offered a place for him to sleepover.

After Cyrus threw popcorn at the screen in anger for the third time that night, he huffed and grabbed the remote to pause the movie. “I’m over this. I can’t watch this anymore. It’s unrealistic.” He looked over to TJ, who was already looking back at him. He always was, wasn’t he? “You know what I’m talking about, right?”

TJ shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been in a relationship,” he pointed out.

Cyrus sat in thought for a moment, drying tear stains shining from the glow of the TV. “Oh, wait, wow, you’ve never been in a relationship. Why the hell have you never been in a relationship?”

“I... don’t know,” he replied, but as he looked at the boy in front of him, he realized he knew exactly why.

It had always been him.

•••

A small brunette boy walked up behind the sandbox timidly. He asked with a small voice, “Can I help you make sandcastles?”

The blonde boy already sitting in the box, knees already covered in sand, turned around to see the other boy. “Yeah, of course! Do you wanna make the moat?”

The brunette boy nodded and knelt down to play with the blonde. From a distance, some of the blonde’s friends pointed and laughed. “Look, Kippen’s playing with the baby!”

As the brunette’s face dropped, the blonde knew then that he would make sure he never felt sad like that. He turned to look at the boy and said, “Don’t listen to them, they don’t know what they’re saying. They’re just a bunch of butts.”

The brunette laughed, and the blonde already loved the sound. “I’m TJ.”

“I know.” The brunette threw him a small smile. “Cyrus.”

•••

“I don’t know, TJ, something just feels off, you know? Like, I should like her, she’s my girlfriend, but I don’t know,” Cyrus ranted.

TJ internally huffed. For some reason, he always hated it when Cyrus talked about his girlfriend, Iris. He didn’t exactly know why. “Maybe you just don’t like her, Cy.”

“But she’s exactly like me! She’s like the perfect girl! And yet, nothing,” Cyrus rambled, exasperated.

“Maybe that’s why. I mean, they do say opposites attract, right?” TJ shrugged.

Cyrus squinted at him in thought. “Maybe.”

TJ couldn’t help but notice that the two of them were almost complete opposites and yet they were the best of friends.

•••

To say that TJ was jealous was an understatement.

That day was the third day in a row that Cyrus blew him off to hang out with Andi and Buffy. It was obvious he had a crush on one of them, and that’s why they had so many closed meetings. It had to be. He had just broken up with Iris, maybe he realized he actually had a crush on one of the two girls he’d grown close with over the course of middle school. TJ just wanted his best friend back.

TJ slammed his locker door shut with a huff, turning to nearly run into a confused Cyrus. “Hey, what’s wrong, Teej?”

TJ closed his eyes for a moment. “It’s nothing.”

Cyrus only grew more concerned. “It’s obviously something if it’s bothering you this much.”

TJ sighed. “Do you like Andi or Buffy?”

Cyrus’ eyes widened. “No, of course not! What in the world could possibly make you think that?!”

“You keep blowing me off for them,” TJ replied in a small voice.

“Ohhh,” Cyrus’ doe eyes widened more in realization. “Believe me, TJ, there is no way that I like either of them. I just really needed to talk something through with them.”

“What could you talk about with them and not me?” TJ asked.

“School project, that’s all. I’m really sorry for blowing you off, TJ,” Cyrus replied, patting TJ’s shoulder, then making his way to class.

———

College was underway, and with more and more work piling up and super conflicting schedules, TJ and Cyrus drifted apart again. It wasn’t intentional this time, at least, they just didn’t have enough time to see each other.

Despite not being around each other anymore, TJ still watched Cyrus thrive. He watched Cyrus join the college’s GSA and soon become president of it, he watched Cyrus put out his first short film as it quickly became a big hit, he watched as Cyrus’ film became a stand out piece in a local film festival— the first one to feature a gay main couple, and he watched as Cyrus headlined his own float for LGBT+ members of the film industry at their local pride parade. He watched Cyrus come into his own.

And yet, TJ was still trapped himself.

He studied education with a minor in history, he was a star player on the school’s basketball team, and he had a few friends. A couple friends. A friend. A roommate. Who was gone half the time with his girlfriend.

He wanted to be out, god knows he wanted to be out so badly. He wanted to confront and yell at himself, asking, why the hell aren’t you being who you are?! What’s your excuse?! Why’re you such a coward?!

Because if he truly lived as he was, maybe he would be that much happier. Have some actual friends. Do something other than work.

But god knows he couldn’t do that.

So he watched Cyrus do it instead.

———

They graduated.

TJ had a job now, he’d become a guidance counselor at a middle school maybe ten minutes away from Shadyside. Not exactly his intention going into education, but it worked well enough.

He couldn’t help but think that a certain brunette would be much better at breaking down young minds than he would be, but that certain brunette was debuting his first major film in a local theater that weekend. It was a memoir type story, about his life. TJ was too busy to see it.

It was mid afternoon in late October when it happened. TJ had been walking to his apartment, headphones in, when he ran into a stranger walking the opposite direction. He turned to apologize, “Oh, sorry— Cyrus Goodman?”

The man turned to look at him. “TJ Kippen?”

TJ smiled. “Hey, long time, no collision.”

Cyrus gave him an easygoing smile. “Yeah, I guess so.”

TJ shrugged his jacket on more, the cold biting at his spine, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I heard you’ve got a movie coming out this weekend?” At Cyrus’ proud nod, he continued, “I know how much you’ve loved doing that stuff. I’m really proud of you.” You have no idea how proud I am.

“Thanks, TJ,” Cyrus replied, his countenance only growing softer. Then, suddenly, he grimaced. “I guess we lost contact again, huh?”

It’s not like I wanted to. “Yeah.”

“How about I get your number and socials so that doesn’t happen again?” Cyrus said, an apparent teasing lilt to his voice.

TJ smiled softly. “Of course.”

———

Within weeks, the two became inseparable again. Yeah, they had busy schedules, but they were adults now. Priorities.

And apparently, these priorities included binging Netflix on a Friday night and ordering pizza at Cyrus’ house.

Everything that had happened between the two of them over the course of the time they had reconnected reminded TJ so vividly of the last two years of high school, it was like his giddy schoolboy crush had come back tenfold, like he had his favorite elementary school buddy back. They had both matured, sure, but they were still the same. They were still TJ and Cyrus. Attached by the hip.

“Everything on here is shitty, let’s just talk,” Cyrus suggested, turning to face TJ while they both sat on the couch.

“Okay,” TJ shrugged. “Talk about what?”

“Don’t know, didn’t think I’d get that far,” Cyrus joked, the two of them sharing a small laugh.

“Any boys?” TJ asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Cyrus shoved him with his elbow, laughing, “What is this, a middle school sleepover?”

“You didn’t say no,” TJ teased.

“No, there are no boys,” Cyrus replied, rolling his eyes. “What about you, any girls catching your eye lately?”

TJ laughed, mildly nervous now, the same as he always was whenever the topic of girls came up. “N-no, no girls.”

Cyrus scoffed, mouth full of pizza. “Please, a guy like you’s gotta have tons of ladies falling all over you.”

TJ shrugged again, more falling in on himself now, “I guess, I just don’t like any of them, though.”

Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “Did you have a girlfriend in college or anything either?”

TJ shook his head, crossing his arms to hide his now fidgety hands.

“TJ, have you ever even liked—“

“Cyrus, just... drop it.”

Cyrus just furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed the remote. “Ohhh...kay.” He switched it over to Hulu and picked a random show for them to watch, the comfortable silence from before having shifted into one of tension.

———

To say TJ was nervous was an understatement.

Why was he so nervous? He had no reason to be this nervous. He had 23 years to prepare for this moment, and yet he was still fucking nervous. His hands shook as he slowly took a seat on a park bench, the one nearly twenty feet away from the swing set. Their old swing set.

TJ had arrived 20 minutes earlier than he asked Cyrus to meet him, as an attempt to try and calm himself down. So far, it wasn’t working, all he could think about was how horrible this could end; how once he said it, he could never go back. It would be real.

Cyrus, being Cyrus, got there ten minutes after TJ did, slowing his pace of approaching when taking in TJ’s nervous state. “Hey, Teej, you alright?” he asked, taking his seat next to TJ.

“No,” TJ mumbled.

“I know you wanted to tell me something, but if it stresses you out this much, you don’t have to,” Cyrus said, placing his arm on his friend’s shoulder. He removed it quickly, however, when TJ flinched away. “D-did I do something?”

“No,” TJ jumped to respond. “I just, I don’t know why I’m so nervous about this, I have no reason to be, I—“

“But you are, and those feelings are valid, alright?” Cyrus said softly, as if approaching a small animal. TJ hated it. He wasn’t some fucking bunny, why couldn’t he just say it?

“Cyrus,” TJ started almost breathlessly, then took a deep sigh, looking at the ground. “I’m gay.”

“Teej.” Cyrus took TJ’s hands in his, forcing him to look back up at him. “I am so proud of you, you know that, right? I know how hard it is to come out and say it— no pun intended. Thank you for trusting me with this,” he continued, a soft smile ever present on his face.

“Of course I trust you,” TJ replied in almost a rasp. “I just feel bad that I never told you earlier.”

“You know when it’s the right time, TJ.” Cyrus let go of his hands then, and TJ did his best to mask his disappointment as he leaned back in his seat. “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you known?”

•••

“Don’t listen to them, they don’t know what they’re saying. They’re just a bunch of butts.”

•••

“I mean, they do say opposites attract, right?”

•••

“I know how much you’ve loved doing that stuff. I’m really proud of you.”

•••

TJ closed his eyes. As long as I’ve known you. “I don’t know. Maybe I always have. Just didn’t wanna face it, I guess.”

Cyrus looked down at the ground, at his feet, nodding. “I can understand that.”

TJ looked over at Cyrus, not moving his head, and seconds later Cyrus did the same, causing them both to break out in small laughter. “Hey, now we can watch gay movies together and I can tease you about boys!” Cyrus quipped.

TJ laughed along, the two boys leaning into each other with their shoulders, and TJ tried his best to hide the small blush appearing on his cheeks.

Maybe coming out wouldn’t be that bad.

———

So maybe coming out was that bad.

It wasn’t him, necessarily, instead it was his sister, Amber. She’d brought her girlfriend home to introduce to their parents the past weekend, and apparently it hadn’t ended well, considering TJ heard nothing about it until he visited home the following weekend.

“What do you mean I shouldn’t talk to my sister anymore? Did Amber end up in jail or something?” TJ asked, sitting by the kitchen island while his mother made herself a salad.

The woman set the small knife in her hand down on the counter and turned around to face TJ, a horrifyingly icy look etched into her eyes. “Did you know that she was a homo?”

And that’s when his heart dropped into his feet.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and hoped to god that his mother didn’t notice how his face paled at her statement, saying, “No, I had no idea.”

He stared back down at the marble on the kitchen island, memorizing every crack and crevice held inside while his mother talked about who knows what— it all sounded muddled as if he was underwater to him, and he quickly escaped the confinements of the house that no longer felt like home after dinner, pulling the excuse of having lots of extra work to do out of thin air.

That’s what it felt like he was breathing. Thin air, less and less and less of it. He was suffocating.

———

Cyrus and TJ grown a lot closer since TJ came out, their glances just a little longer and their smiles just a little softer, and their Friday movie nights almost became a unspoken mandatory thing. But Cyrus noticed that TJ had been more closed off that past week, and it especially showed when he came over to watch some movie that Friday. They settled down to the couch, but significantly further away than usual.

“What, are you not going to let me use the blanket tonight or something?” Cyrus teased with a small laugh.

TJ almost snapped out of whatever dazed state he was in and tossed Cyrus the other end of the blanket with a “Yeah, sorry.”

Cyrus looked him up and down, then put the TV remote back on the table. “You know what? No movie tonight. We’re talking about whatever the hell is throwing you off.”

“Cyrus, I don’t wanna talk about it,” TJ sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, fine,” Cyrus replied, turning his body to face TJ completely. “Then we can talk about something else.”

TJ knew what he was doing, they would talk about something else and then he would pull his psychoanalyzing shit and maneuver the conversation to what was bothering him because it’s not good to bottle things up. He knew that. Maybe TJ did wanna talk about it, but he couldn’t.

“Fine, whatever.”

Cyrus fiddled with a tassel on the blanket. “Any boys?” he asked, causing TJ’s breath to hitch.

Yeah, you, but it’s not like you or anyone else can ever know that.

“TJ,” Cyrus whispered, putting his hand on TJ’s, “talk to me.”

Goddamnit.

TJ looked up into Cyrus’ eyes, trying to say something, anything, but he was frozen still. At least, he was until he noticed Cyrus looking at him with the same intensity he had. He found himself leaning in and Cyrus doing the same, the closeness almost becoming overwhelming.

“Cyrus, I—“

And then they were kissing.

It was perfect, really, the feeling was amazing and the massive choir of anxiety that seemed to hover over TJ all the time lately faded in the background for a minute. He let himself enjoy it, because the second it was over, he would have to deal with it all, with all the consequences that come with it.

After Cyrus pulled away, TJ’s eyes remained closed before slowly fluttering open. Trying to form a coherent sentence at Cyrus’ expectant gaze, the best thing he could come up with was, “Are you pitying me?”

Cyrus grew an incredulous face. “What? No, TJ, I like you.”

I like you.

Oh my god, he likes me.

“I like you, too, Cy.”

The two boys shared a soft and private smile, before Cyrus mumbled, “So, what does this mean, then?”

TJ shrugged, “I don’t know, what do you want it to mean?”

Cyrus looked at him with an incredibly adorable hopeful smile that was hard to look away from. “Boyfriends?”

Ah, shit.

Cyrus obviously could see his face drop at the word, notes by his “What?”

TJ sighed. “Cyrus, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to ask me that, for any of what’s happened today to happen. But...”

“But what? What’s the problem?” Cyrus scoffed.

“I’m still not ready for any of this. I thought I would be, I mean, I should be by now, but I’m not. I can still barely say the fucking word out loud, let alone have a public relationship and ask someone else to deal with my bullshit fear. I really, really like you, Cyrus, but there is no fucking way that I can be any form of out right now. So unless you’re cool with, like, a secret relationship, then I can’t let anything happen right now, no matter how much it devastates me.”

Cyrus just sat in silence in front of him, eyebrows furrowed in thought. TJ watched him as the warmth slowly drained out of his eyes and was replaced with ice, the one face he never thought he would see from the brunette. Cyrus started speaking, a steady yet terrifying tone to his voice, “You think I haven’t been waiting for this, TJ? Are you kidding? I’ve liked you since, like, middle school. But I can’t do that for you, I can’t have a secret relationship. I’m not going to shove myself back in the closet just because you’re scared. I did that for way too long for too many people, and there’s no way I’m doing it again. I’m too proud of who I am now to do that.” Cyrus scooted away from him on the couch, biting his nail, before adding, “I hope that one day you are too.”

“Me too,” TJ whispered, before quickly gathering his things. “I’m gonna head out.”

“I think that would be best,” Cyrus replied quietly, tone filled with disappointment.

Shutting Cyrus’ front door felt like severing a limb.

———

Two days later, TJ got an email.

It was an automated email, from Cyrus to a bunch of his closest friends, inviting them all to watch a filming of a scene for a movie he was directing. Cyrus probably forgot to remove him from the list after what happened. He wouldn’t still want him to come, would he?

He decided to go.

He showed up the next day to the set mid-scene, probably ten minutes late, and immediately took note of Cyrus sitting in his chair. He looked drained, paler than usual, irritated. TJ hates that it was probably his fault.

He stood a distance away from the rest of the standing audience, spotting Andi and Buffy across the room, older than he had last seen them but still just as lively. Andi had grown out her hair to her shoulders with a few blonde streaks in it, and Buffy donned business attire, a large briefcase next to her suggesting to him that she’d arrived there from her job. He wondered what they’d ended up doing with their lives, but he was snapped out of his reverie by Cyrus’ exclamation.

“Oh my god, are you kidding? Can’t you see the level of emotion this monologue is supposed to have? Do you need me to act this out for you?” Cyrus shouted, getting up. “Here, give me the script,” he continued angrily as he marched toward the actor, who handed him the script fearfully.

Cyrus began reading, fully in character, not taking his eyes off the paper at first. “I know it’s gotta be hard for you, right? I mean, you have all these expectations to live up to, most of which come from your own head. I know you’re scared, Tyler. But don’t you think that I am, too? I’ve got expectations, too. I have so many people that hate me for who I am without even knowing who I am. I used to be so fucking terrified of it all, for god’s sake, my parents hated it too. But I’m proud of myself now. I don’t hate it anymore, I can’t hate something I can’t control. You can’t either.”

Cyrus looked up from the paper, locking eyes with TJ. TJ didn’t think those eyes could possibly get any deeper.

“You could be up here with me, above all of those shitty high school bullies and annoying parents and idiot strangers. I know that you have it in you, Tyler. You should give yourself the ability to be whoever the hell you want to be. You deserve to be yourself, don’t you understand that?”

Cyrus took a step forward. He was speaking to TJ now, it was obvious to anyone watching. But for some reason, it felt like no one was.

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

And damnit, TJ broke.

He stormed out quickly, not angrily, but instead trying to hide the free flowing tears dripping off his face.

Inside, Cyrus dropped the script, saying quietly while moving to follow TJ out, “Uh, just excuse me for a minute.”

TJ had made his way well down the sidewalk, but Cyrus caught up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. TJ whipped around, wiping his face, to which Cyrus responded softly, “You came.”

TJ closed eyes for a moment before mumbling, “Of course I came.”

Cyrus launched into a ramble, “TJ, I didn’t mean to make that about you, I just’ve been so hung up over this, the movie isn’t even related to what’s going on and, god, I’m sorry I didn’t remove you from the goddamn email list, I—“

“You were right, though,” TJ interrupted.

“What?” Cyrus froze.

“You were right.” TJ took a step closer to him. “I shouldn’t be afraid anymore.”

“But what about what you said? About not being ready?” Cyrus whispered, also inching closer to him.

“I’m still not, Cy. I’m terrified,” TJ admitted, “because once I face it, it’s real, I can’t hide it away anymore.”

“Oh.”

“But,” TJ continued, taking another step forward, “if you’re willing to wait just a little longer, I will be ready. I just need time.” At Cyrus’ speechless gaze, he added, “I promise it won’t be another ten years, though.”

“TJ, I’m not hiding again,” Cyrus stated, the most sure he’d been this entire conversation.

“You won’t be.” TJ took a hold of one of Cyrus’ hands. “Just be there for me like you always have been, and I promise you, it’ll happen. I like you too much for it not to.”

“You promise?” Cyrus asked in a whisper.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” TJ replied, his voice raspy and smile soft and small.

Cyrus closed his eyes, sighing. “Alright.”

“Good.”

———

“How about we do something different tonight?” TJ suggested, only two weeks after he made his promise. He had a plan to fulfill it that night.

“What, do you want to watch Hulu instead of Netflix or something?” Cyrus asked, confused.

“No, I mean, let’s go to the movies,” TJ suggested, a wide grin on his face.

A hesitant smile slid its way onto Cyrus’ expression. “You never want to go out, why?”

TJ shrugged, the grin not leaving his face. “Thought it could be fun.”

Cyrus squinted, then smirked. “Drive-in?”

“Like you even need to ask,” TJ scoffed. “Let’s go.”

•••

They had pulled into the lot playing Love, Simon and Booksmart, a hazy glow setting the mood as dusk settles over the crowd. Small fireflies dot the sky, and Cyrus watched them with amazement. TJ looked with amazement too, but not at the fireflies, instead at the brunette boy next to him, wrapped under their shared blanket in the trunk of TJ’s car.

It was in that moment that TJ really got a good look at him; maybe it was the streetlight making his hair glow with a golden tint, or the way the moon reflected in his eyes, but he noticed something here never really had before. There was still his classic smile and the same cheerful brown eyes, but he was no longer the person that TJ had met long ago in middle school. He had grown into his figure, no longer lanky like he was in high school and stood only an inch shorter than himself. He wore less button ups than he used to, especially those with patterns, and TJ couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a cardigan. He held himself differently than he used to, as well; he seemed more confident, less falling into himself and more chin raised up with somewhat of a sense of pride. He wasn’t the person TJ had gotten to know. He had changed, and TJ got to witness it, he got to see him truly come into his own.

He realized then that this was his chance to do the same.

“Cyrus?” TJ whispered, causing the brunette to tear his eyes away from Simon having a heart to heart with his mother.

“Hm?”

TJ’s voice was caught in his throat, not knowing what to say, where to start, and it was apparently enough for Cyrus to notice, as after a beat, he asked quietly, “Is there something you wanna tell me?”

“Yeah,” he rasped out, inching his hand ever so slightly towards Cyrus’.

Cyrus scooted closer to him, took TJ’s hand in his, and intertwined their fingers. “Then say it.”

TJ’s hand was practically burning, and if he turned his head just a smidge, their faces would be a mere inch apart. It was as if every molecule in his body, every force in the universe was screaming at him to just do it, just say something. “I can’t,” he whispered.

“Why not?” Cyrus asked, matching tone, and this caused TJ to turn his head.

The two boys looked at each other for a moment, as if they were both mapping out every detail of the other’s face, committing every scar and freckle to memory— that is, until TJ shifted his gaze down to Cyrus’ lips, for only a moment, a millisecond.

That must’ve been what did it, what made him snap, because then they were kissing.

It was nothing like the first one, really. The first one was questioning, a puzzle piece sliding into place, figuring out that yes, this is what I want. But this one, this one was passionate, it was I never want to lose you again, it was you’re what was meant for me this entire time, I need you, I love you...

Okay, maybe a little early for that one.

Regardless, it was perfect, and he could see the slight fear in Cyrus’ eyes when they pulled away.

“I have never wanted anything more than to be with you, Cyrus. You know that, right?” TJ mumbled, slightly out of breath.

Cyrus nodded, taking a long blink.

“And, I...” TJ looked down, fiddling with his fingers. He continued, “I’d love to be your boyfriend, if you’ll take me.”

Cyrus smiled at him, almost blinding, filled with affection and pride. He nodded, throwing his arms around TJ’s neck in a tight hug, and TJ held him back just as tight.

———

TJ never told his parents, he never felt like he needed to. He never told his parents when him and Cyrus had started dating, and he never told them three years later that the two of them had gotten engaged. Which is why some may have found it odd that he sent a wedding invitation to them with no warning. Needless to say, they never RSVP’d.

It might’ve been weird to that same some that neither of the two men’s families were at the wedding, no parents of either groom present for slow dances, only many, many friends that they had made throughout the years, old and new. But it was perfect to them. It was theirs.

#andi mack #tyrus #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #my fic #my writing #fic #jtky universe

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hobiwonder · 6 years ago

Text

~Surprise~ | (m)

read insomnia first if you would like to get a contextual background

accidentally deleted the text when editing dggfdfdfdd.

Words: 2k

pairing: tae x reader

warnings: oral

You were nervous. To say the least. It’s not like this was the first time you had gone to the waxing salon but it definitely was the first time for you to get waxed down there.And for a boy no less? Yeah, even more rare. Usually you just used a razor and called it a day when the situation down under got a little too prickly. More so to stop Taehyung from whining like a baby being inconvenienced when he went down on you despite your protests. But of course, you too, were selfless sometimes and decided to alter you au natural state for your boyfriend. This Saturday would be your and Taehyung’s one year anniversary. Well, technically you’d only be dating for half of this duration but Taehyung refuses to not count the times you both had been friends with… benefits of sorts, claiming that you were smitten with him from day 1. Yeah, you couldn’t believe either that you were dating this man.

Nonetheless, you very much adored that man-child hence the mowing of the garden down there. While Taehyung never explicitly asked you to shave yourself clean, you could tell that he would enjoy that immensely. Especially from the way his eyes had glazed over when he had been reading the pricelist for the salon you usually kept on top of the fridge amongst other takeout menus. At first you’d laughed it off calling him a horndog for getting turned on by reading about Brazilian waxing. Then he had just let out a weirdly squeaky laugh and scurried out of the room to take a shower which was a million times odd in itself. Taehyung and no snarky remark or excessive pouting? Weird of course. But you being the receptive person you were had finally admitted that perhaps he was too much of a gentleman to request something like this from you. It was different when both of your brains were clouded with lust and carnal desires were being fired from his mouth left and right. But consciously asking you to wax yourself for him? Yeah, he wasn;t going to ask you that now. Maybe when both of you had just started dating? But certainly not now. He’d matured quite a bit since then frankly or maybe he just respects and likes you that much more now. Which, the thought of, brought all sorts of butterflies to your stomach.

And back then, you would’ve laughed in his face and would have said no in a heartbeat. Now? You’d frankly do anything for him. And so you had. Your boyfriend wanted your vagina bald, secretly of course, so you had gone and went through the painful experience to give him bald. And that wasn’t the only reason you were walking slowly towards your dorm, being sensitive and tender down there and all. Just the thought of telling him about it was mortifying. How does one even go about doing that? You’re mulling it all over in your head as you go to unlock the door but find it already open, only hinging it slightly to enter. Taehyung was sitting on the floor, playing overwatch on the computer that he’d set up in the corner of your room because he couldn’t live without playing the damn game at least once a day. You swear you were his sidepiece and the game was who he was actually dating.

“H-hey. Already back?” He was half listening to you as he frantically clicked his mouse and spoke in to the mic attached to his headpiece.

“Jungkook you fucking prick! We were so close to topping the leaderboard. Try to remember these are cartoon tits, not real!” Yeah, this was pretty normal.

“No I’m not going to calm down Jimin-ah. Not since I did all the killing! God, fuck.” Okay he did need to chill.

“Tae? You need some water?” Leaning down to kiss his reddened cheek you can hear the laughter coming from the headset faintly – the boys most likely laughing at him.

“No babe. What I need is for Jungkook to not get distracted by D.Va’s tits.”

“Hey these are actual girls playing those characters!”

“Do you realize how sad and pathetic you sound kook?” Jimin’s airy laugh is the last thing you hear before you straighten up and put down the containers of takeout you’d brought for dinner on your way back. Taehyung still immersed in the game, laughing along, bringing out a smile on your own face.

God. You’d become so different now. Too smiley. Taehyung could just sound happy and you would want to smile and hold his hands. Eugh. What had he done to you.

“Why are you looking horrified at the food? Is it not what you ordered?” Snapping out of your inner monologue, you just leave the containers packed to sit on your bed and wait for Taehyung to finish his game. There was no way you two were going to eat before he finished whatever round he was doing.

“Nothing. I-I’m fine.” Your wince doesn’t go unnoticed when you cross your legs to try and get a little more warmth around your centre. Your appointment was barely 3 hours ago. Right then, Taehyung is cursing at the monitor before he takes off his headset and looks back at you.

“I swear, I’m going to kill him one of these days.”

“Tae,” you deadpan, “It’s important to separate virtual reality from actual reality. Are you aware?” He’s sauntering over at you to tower above, cocking his head to the side before he leans down, placing his hands on either side of you on the bed.

“Where were you? I thought your waxing only took an hour?”

And everything was rushing back in to your head at the speed of light. You’d done something for your boyfriend which you were so excited about but so nervous to admit. Would he think you were trying too hard? Maybe you just read in to things too much and he is ambivalent to the whole concept? Oh god. Yu hadn’t prepared enough for this. Okay, it was now or never. You were no little bitch.

Just kidding. You just couldn’t keep your mouth in check. “I got a Brazilian wax.”

There. You said it. The cock in his eyebrow doesn’t tell you much.

“A Brazilian wax? Is that a type?” He was adorably confused and you couldn’t believe he didn’t know.

“Y-You really don’t know?” When he’s still just blinking down at you – yeah, this was even more unexpected.

“I got waxed… down there.” His eyes are all but bulging out of his head and you sigh internally. Okay, there we go.

“You waxed your pussy?!” This sounded way less sexy than you imagined and his disbelief has you rolling your eyes. Taehyung drops to his knees suddenly, still looking up at you. “For me? Really?”

You couldn’t believe the amount of adoration in his eyes. Really, this is all that was going to take to have him on his knees? You had to bite back the snort. God, your boyfriend was a simple, one-track minded man. A simple, horny man.

“Yeah. It hurt like a bitch so you better be thankful punk.” Taehyung isn’t returning your playful glare. In fact, he looks way too serious. You recognised this look and it was finally showing. But even after seeing him with such unabashed need apparent in his expression countless times – it never failed to have you tightening your legs, crossing them as you felt the arousal leak.

“Y/n… Baby?” His hands were searing your skin that wasn’t covered by the shorts, massaging your legs and brushing inside your thighs ever so slightly.

“Y-Yes?” your voice was small. Nervous but excited.

Taehyung glances down between your legs, taking a salacious little bite of his pink lips.

“Can I have a look?” Your panicky brain wants to smart mouth him but your ever growing wet pussy wants to shove his face in there. “Can I please see your pussy baby?”

His mouth is sin and his whisper is the silver platter he’s delivering it in. And you’re gladly taking the bait when your legs fall open, muttering a shy, ‘okay’. He looks like he’s about to open his most prized present as he carefully slide down your shorts, rubbing his thumb over your damp panties before shooting you a lascivious look that makes you shiver.

The small moan you suppress only develops in to a bigger one when Taehyung presses down on the button of your clit before sliding off your underwear completely, cursing under his breath.

“Fuck…. so pretty.” The way he looks between your legs makes you want to close them. He’s so focused and almost looks like he’s in pain. “You did this for me baby?”

“I-I wanted to surprise you for our anniversary.” You keep glancing between looking at his handsome face and his strong veiny hands kneading the soft flesh of your mound around your sex. You held back a wince when he slides his thumb down the sides of your nether lips.

“I love it. You’re so pretty,” he suddenly leans down and gives you a little kiss above of your clit, making your body jerk forward.

“Does it still hurt?” Taehyung slips his finger downwards to gather some of the wetness that had been leaking and you’re mortified. He hadn’t even done anything yet.

“J-Just a little tender.” Your voice is small and he can tell you’re still shy.

“You’re so pink and pretty, y/n. No need to be embarrassed.” His teasing little chuckle has you hitting his shoulder when your foot which he effectively secures on his shoulder.

“Be thankful I did this for you. I would’ve never gotten waxed.. there otherwise.”

“Gladly. All I want to do is thank you baby.” His cheesy line doesn’t get a retort when he starts kissing all around your core with his addictive mouth, shutting you up and instead making it difficult for you to breathe.

“You’re so wet baby. Do you want me to clean you up, hm? Fuck… your pussy looks so pretty I don’t even want to put my cock in here and ruin it.” That makes you whine in protest and Taehyung just chuckles away before giving your mound a hot lick.

“Mm. This is even better with you all smooth like this… I can eat you forever babe.”

You’re biting your own lips and looking down at Taehyung who looks so sinful you can feel the arousal dripping out of you. Gosh, he was so hot. His tongue had started to lick fat stripes all over your pussy now, catching your arousal in strings on his tongue.

“Does it feel better if I lick here now? Hm? How about this.” His tongue rests heavily beneath your entrance before he drags it upwards to your slit and stops at your clit, making you lose your mind as your whimpers get louder and more frequent.

“S-So good- ah.” He’s watching your expression as he licks and prods at the folds surrounding your clit – your labia, lips of your pussy. When he starts to moan along with each clit you can’t help the gush of liquid pouring out of your clenching pussy.

“You’re so sticky and wet baby. I love eating your cunt. All mine.” He’s growling his possessive words and your legs are coming to together to trap his head in as your hands find purchase on to the bedsheets underneath you. But before then can clamp shut, he’s pushing them apart and pinning them down while continuing to gorge himself on you. His chin was wet with your arousal and you were so close to cumming – you wanted him to get inside you already.

“T-Tae, please. I need you.”

“And I need to eat this cunt y/n. Don’t deny me.” He’s latching his lips on to your clit, forming a vacuum like sucking before he pulls back his mouth, dragging your flesh with it. The pressure is so intense you thought you might start hyperventilating soon.

“I’m so close,” Your whimper doesn’t make him speed up though. He’s taking his time, enjoying his leisurely pace, licking deep inside your folds until they were wet again with your juices to start all over again. You were whimpering with no apprehension now, bucking your hips in his mouth as you clutched the sheets for dear life. Being completely bare down there made every lash of his tongue all the more concentrated.

“Stay still y/n. I can’t eat you properly if you keep moving.” He almost sounds menacing as he growls for you to stay still, tightening his hold on to your legs even more.

“Y/n.” He warns again when your hips don’t stop jerking.

“I-I can’t. I’m so close Tae. Make me c-cum. Please.” You’re crying out louder when he starts to drag the flat of his tongue over and over on your clit. His movements are fast and rough, shoving so much desire inside your body as you try your best to keep still.

It’s when he slides his tongue as deep as it can go, caressing your inner walls that you gush all over his face.

“Fuck! You squirted babe. So hot.” His face is still shoved deep between your legs as he keep licking all over your trembling pussy. You’re twitching and crying as your grab on to his hair, not knowing whether you were pushing him back or pulling him forward. Him not backing away was not helping.

“Cum again for me baby. I love your smooth pussy. I just wanna keep licking you. God, you’re so addicting. Give me some more y/n. Come on.” His head is moving frantically between your legs, almost disappearing out of your view each time he dips low to start his tantalising licks from the bottom to the top where he sucked your clit for a few seconds before doing it all over again. You were too far gone to keep watching him at this point.

“Tae, e-enough. Oh my god,” you’re squeaking embarrassingly before you cum again, back bowing off the bed as Taehyung continues to drink you in. Making loud messy noises as he gulps noisily.

You’re sure you’d blacked out for a few seconds because you don’t remember when Taehyung had climbed on top of your trembling body.

“Best present ever.” You’re too tired to respond so you just pull him on top before falling in to a comfortable sleep.

a/n: thots?

#bts smut #taehyung smut #insomnia au #taehyung

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dragonrajafanfiction · 5 years ago

Text

Dragon Dancer Chapter 12: Catch - 22

Minutes after fleeing the opera house in the middle of a Chicago winter in nothing but my tutu, my extremities grew painfully numb. I had no money for a cab or bus fare and begging would be a bad idea for a lone young girl.

The dragon, my father, said if I just closed my eyes and thought of a place, I could go there. Getting back to my family's house or to Cassell was an impossible distance. Even if I could find my way there, who knew what could happen if I accidentally ran into myself from the past.

Previous Chapter

Go Back to the Beginning

There was a broken latch on the basement window in the laundry room. If I could get there, I could get in my house. I closed my eyes and focused my mind, imagining the alleyway next to my house. The image took shape, as clear as if my eyes were open. I took a step forward, reaching out with one hand. Immediately, the world went silent and dark, colder than the winter night air. When I opened my eyes again, I was in the alleyway. My ears filled with the sounds of the street.

I had moved miles in a single step. I was exactly where I wanted to be. My father was true to his word.

I knelt down and checked the latch on the basement window. It was still broken.

It was dark in there, but Ielia emerged from the dragon’s scale, her luminous form lit the way for me as I squeezed inside, stood precariously on the wobbly washing machine and then jumped off to the floor. There were no voices, no footsteps above me. Everyone had gone to the opera house to watch me dance. I climbed the creaky wooden stairs and into the kitchen.

When I switched the light on to the old kitchen I saw its curling vinyl, chipped countertops and dated finish. I took a deep breath against my wave of emotions and memories, deliberately passing the refrigerator with its gallery of children’s drawings and photos without looking at it. The night before this I didn’t eat Mom’s cooking. I looked up into the sky and wished to be anywhere but the frigid seat of Robbie’s car.

I hated how much I had wanted to leave here, how I couldn’t wait to pack. How I watched all their promotional videos and read up on Cassell College and grew more excited by the promise of posh surroundings and decadent amenities. I wiped my eyes, my quiet whimpering audible over the rattling of a rickety furnace. “I’m an idiot.”

Now all I wanted was this simple life, surrounded by love and family.

I entered my room and turned on the light. What supplies could I take with me?

There were a lot of clothes that I didn’t wear any more that were boxed up as hand me downs for future kids. I opened the closet and carefully opened the boxes. I hurried through the clothes, picking out three days worth, closed them back up, replacing the tape. I found an old wrinkled pinked vinyl backpack to haul my things in. I changed out of my tutu. “I have two of these now…” I said to myself, staring at it. I would get rid of this one in the garbage outside.

Next, I would need some money to get around and maybe find a place to stay.

I raced to Mom and Robbie’s room. I felt a bit bad about doing this, but I also knew that more money was coming after I left for Cassell and we would have plenty. Lifting the mattress, I undid the button on a small seam in the mattress and reached inside feeling for the cash kept there. I decided on only taking a few hundred dollars. Hopefully, if everything worked in my favor, that would be all I needed.

Back to the kitchen I went, stuffing a half dozen granola bars in my jacket.

I tried to imagine going back to Cassell now, explaining to Anjou everything that happened. Would they even let someone with as insane a story as mine through the front gate? They didn’t know me yet. It would be a week before they picked me up in a limo. I chewed on one of the granola bars, reluctant to go back into the cold if I didn’t have to. I glanced at the clock.

I could comfortably have maybe fifteen minutes left.

I wasn’t sure how much I could affect my past life events, having apparently gone back in time. People already saw two of me onstage. Anjou would probably know what that meant, more than anyone else. Besides the dragon scale necklace, that may have been what prompted him to approach me in the first place.

No wonder my dance teacher freaked out. Maybe she thought I had pulled some sort of prank.

I typed in the URL for Cassell College and clicked on Contact Us. There was a 250 character limit. My hands hovered over the keyboard. My mind went over what I knew was going to happen.

Isaac… if I never met him. Would he survive? Could I somehow prevent his death from happening? Prevent all those other people from dying? Maybe if they hadn’t seen me kill him they would have never sent me to Japan. They may have even sent me home.

Urgent: I was recruited by you but my talent is unstable. Two days after my recruitment, a student named Isaac will take me to a place to see my abilities. But he doesn't survive. When we come back from it, he turns into a servitor and I kill him. Th-

Out of characters.

My stomach twists. What if it's not enough? What if he got this message and it was not enough.

“I have to do something different. If Anjou sees this, sends Nono and Caesar and that still fails...” I looked at my ethereal twin. She was pointing to the clock with growing urgency. “Is there nothing I can do?”

She looked at me with an exaggerated helpless shrug. I was out of time. I decided to take a shot in the dark without fearing the consequences. I hit send.

“Okay… Now plan B.”

Next was the website for Comemnus Corp. I clicked the contact us page and started to try to explain that Isaac was going to die at Cassell. As I typed, it dawned on me that this might sound like a threat. I remembered his bodyguards that followed him everywhere. Did he come with bodyguards because of my message?

“I could be setting up all of this.” I deleted the message. If Isaac had to die, the least I could do was keep his bodyguards from being there. I retyped it, saying that Isaac would die, adding that Isaac should not come with the bodyguards because they would die too.

Even if it didn’t work, I tried. I warned them.

“What else?” I rested my chin in my hands.

It occured to me that if Isaac didn’t die and I was not sent out to look for a cure, maybe Caesar, Lu and Johann would fail their mission. Maybe Japan would be overrun by monsters. Maybe they would die in the cave because he would send someone else and things would go wrong. Maybe he would send Nono instead of me. Maybe Nono would die.

If the past could be changed, there was no guarantee that I would change things for the better. I sat staring at the clock, remembering Anjou’s kind eyes and words about courage and hope. I still had some time. I was tired, but I knew that once I walked out of this place I wouldn’t be able to come back.

I took my last few minutes, gazing at photos of us all together, my foster family. “I’m sorry everyone. I was happy here. I know you always told me to dream big.” I stared at myself as a little toddler, still smiling, still in her leotard. My voice with emotion. “Maybe not this big.”

That little girl in the photo had one living relative: an enormous glittering beast with the power to erase people from existing at will. He was watching me now. I didn’t have any real feelings for my birth family. The people in this photo were my family. I didn’t want anything to happen to them. One wrong move and everyone I loved could be gone in an instant.

My computer sang out a notification from my inbox. The message title was simple.

“Stop Immediately. Stay where you are.”

It was from EVA at Cassell. But I couldn’t stay where I was. The sound of car tires screeching to a halt next to the building spooked me. I deleted the email, grabbed my backpack, and made my way to the basement as doors shut and footsteps and voices were heard outside.

As I climbed out of the window, strong gloved hands reached out and grabbed me by both of my arms, yanking me out the rest of the way. A bag was forced over my head, my pack was yanked from my hand and I was half dragged and half carried down the alley.. “Help!” I cried as someone picked me up and shoved me into a car.

Something cold and hard is pressed against my temple, forcing me into silence. The car peeled away.

“We’ve got the target. Returning to HQ.”

I sat shaking, my breath moving the fabric of the bag in and out. The gun stayed pressed to my head the whole ride. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on a vision to get me out of here, but the car careened around corners and I was without a seatbelt...

The car slammed on the brakes, the door opened and I was hauled out, hitting my ankle against the curb, crying out at the pain shooting up my leg. I was dragged from the cold outside to the warmer inside where I was put into a chair, the bag removed from my head. A heavy metal door screeched, closing with a deafening slam. It was dark other than the light from a flashlight shined in my face.

A man and a woman stood in front of me, prim and proper in suits, a table between them that held small silver utensils I assumed to be torture devices. My two kidnappers were at my side. We were in some sort of garage or warehouse, a dimly lit space with metal walls.

“You’re going to tell us everything we ask you to.” The one speaking is a burly man with a pale, clean shaven head. He fixed his steely eyes onto mine and I nodded in deference.

“I know…” I said. “You’re from Comemnus Corp… right? It’s okay. I’m just trying to warn you.”

“You sent us a rather curious message. Who’s after the heir?” He asked.

“No one’s after him. He dies because… he loses control of his powers. He turns into a Servitor. I know because...” I took a breath because I knew how insane this would sound. “I know because I’m from the future.” I flinched, expecting a negative reaction.

There was a moment of silence while they took in my words. “Is she out of her mind?” asked the kidnapper to my left.

The woman, in light blue pantsuit and heavy eyeliner rubbed her chin. “Here we have a…” Her eyes looked me up and down. “Poor Chicago kid that we were instructed on an urgent high priority basis to kidnap and interrogate. A kid that knows about Isaac and his entry into Cassell and claims he will die within days along with his escort. This is already strange.”

She brought up the message I had sent to the company on her own phone. “In a few days time, Isaac will die after becoming a servitor. Try to keep him home. Don’t send bodyguards with them. They will die too.” She looked at me. “Strange for the bodyguards to die. Who kills them?”.

I tried to answer carefully. “Isaac becomes a servitor.” Who knew what would happen now that I’d fiddled with the events in the timeline. Maybe Isaac still dies but I wouldn’t be the one to kill him.

“Why?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Because…” I hesitated to answer, my mouth drying up, my voice squeaking. “I…”

“You have one chance to answer this honestly, my dear. My dinner is getting cold.” She picked up one of the silver instruments, it looked like a pen with two hooked prongs at one end. She turned the end until it lit green and let out a high pitched whine.

“Okay. The truth is, I’m going to meet him there. At the party for new students. He comes on to me pretty hard so I leave. The next day he takes me to some secret place to train.”

Her eyes snapped to mine and widened. “Stop talking.” She turned to my kidnappers. “Stand outside the door. The rest of this interrogation is classified.”

The kidnappers' footsteps receded. A door shut.

“He takes you to a secret place.” She repeated, once the others were gone.

I nodded. “Yes. He … teleports me there, through some sort of magical gate.”

She looked at me a little longer before leaning over to the bald man and whispering in his ear. He nodded, then marched to a far corner of the warehouse and reached into his pocket for his phone. The woman continued to stare at me, arms crossed, glaring. I looked between the man and her.

“And what happens? After you go through the gate?” She asked me.

“He … gives me this black stuff to drink.” I said.

Her narrow-eyed expression deepened.

The man returned. “The boss wants to talk to her herself.”

She strode up to me and bent over until her face so close I could feel her breath. Her black eyes flashed to yellow. “Speaking Spirit - Chains.”

Instantly, I was unable to move or speak, paralyzed. The image of those eyes transfixed me and they were all I could see. I could feel myself being picked up from the chair and carried away, while I gasped in a panic.

The world spun and went dark and silent. The next thing I knew, I was lying on my back. Time must have passed but, how much time, I didn’t know. I could hear more voices.

A man said, “Studying this genome will take months. Maybe even years. We can’t keep her sedated that long. The fact that Weizhen has kept her down with a B ranked talent…? She deserves a raise.”

A woman’s voice, “What do you suggest?”

“We only need the genome for study. With a few stem cells, we can have an endless supply of samples…”

She interrupted him. “...samples. Really?”

I tried to open my eyes but they remained firmly shut. My fingers stayed relaxed on the bed.

“You had something else in mind?” said the man. “Mind you, Cassell is likely looking for her even as we speak. Keeping her here is risky.”

The woman replied. “We don’t deal in relics. It doesn’t matter how beautiful her genome is if she can’t produce viable offspring.”

He responded. “My goal as a geneticist is quite different. Someone with her level of dragonblood purity doesn’t just come along. We’ve stumbled upon a treasure and an opportunity that will not come again. A substandard sperm donor would be a complete waste of time! It would only corrupt the results of our research. Her genetic purity exceeds even that of the much lauded Johann Chu! Where are we going to find someone else like that? If offspring is what you’re after we could try cloning first. If we find a suitable donor, we can try breeding.”

I tried to move my head, but I was held fast. I cried out for help in my mind.

“What about Herzog?” She asked.

“That fanatic? You’re welcome to ask, but last we were in contact with him, he was creating monsters.”

“He has no connection to Cassell...”

Someone else spoke, a woman close to me, just behind my head. “The girl is struggling!” She gasped.

“Quick, give her another dose of ketamine!”

My body grew hot, my eyes twitched. I gasped. When I raised my hand someone pinned me down. “Hurry!”

My eyes flew open. The bright lights of the room made me squint. I could see people, but I couldn’t focus.

“You’ve done well, Weizhen, but now, we’re going to have to find other means to restrain her. Take the samples now. This may be our last opportunity.”

Next Chapter

#Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Writing #Anjou #Johann Chu #caesar gattuso #nono

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killian-whump · 5 years ago

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I know you weren't a big fan of s6, so if you could rewrite it, what would you change?

Everything.

No, I’m kidding. I mean, there were some things I liked about S6 and would definitely keep around. I thought the S5 finale set everything up for S6 really well. I was excited for the Land of Untold Stories, and all the tales that were hinted at in the scenes that took place there, and I love Regina, especially when she’s the Evil Queen in flashbacks, so I was all amped up for the dual Reginas storyline. S6 looked great from that point.

Then it all went to shit.

The Evil Queen thing was SO over-the-top, and Lana was playing her in a campy and ridiculous way that didn’t appeal to me at all. In hindsight, I can see that they were trying to keep her “redeemable” and play up the whole “still Regina, even as the Evil Queen” thing for the storyline resolution, so they needed her to only be quasi-evil instead of evil-evil. Okay, fair enough, but it was still super disappointing and even downright cringey, and I will never forgive them for turning one of my favorite parts of the show into a circus act. Honestly, if they weren’t going to do the Evil Queen justice, I would’ve rather they hadn’t gone anywhere near her. So that would be change #1: Drop the camp or drop that storyline entirely.

And they could’ve dropped it entirely. That exciting land of Untold Stories they teased us with in the S5 finale was... a let-down. Yes, we got Jekyll and Hyde and Captain Nemo... but the Aladdin stuff they gave us was more fairytale than literary classic, and wtf was up with the ridiculous one-off shit like the Count of Monte Cristo? There were SO many classics they could’ve visited, and greater detail they could’ve gone into with the ones they DID visit... and the Land of Untold Stories was so COOL looking, with its wild mix of architecture and dirigibles and steampunk style. WHY would you create such a fantastical and fun-looking world, and then take everyone from that world and put them in OUR boring ass world? S6 should’ve taken place IN the Land of Untold Stories and brought us a lot more fresh takes and characters from that land than the pittance we got. AND MORE STEAMPUNK, FOR FUCK’S SAKE.

I’m also still angry that they teased me with an asylum plot in the press before the S5 finale, then gave me a taste of it IN that finale... and then ripped it from my greedy, hot little hands. They didn’t even put Killian Jones in a straitjacket while they were there. What the fuck, guys? Who does that? That man was born to be put into a straitjacket for my enjoyment and you had him RIGHT THERE and even put someone in a straitjacket, but it was the wrong fucking someone. Had S6 stayed in the Land of Untold Stories, we could’ve had untold opportunities for more asylum whump, and they could’ve put Killian in a straitjacket and made all of my dreams come true.

And why the SHIT did they actually kill off Hyde when Sam Witwer was the best thing to happen to that show since Colin, himself?! I mean, yeah, the Jekyll and Hyde storyline was probably planned from the get-go to end in their deaths, but when you see what a complete GEM Hyde is, what with his penchant for the Evil Queen’s cooking and his ridiculously awesome facial expressions and his dashing dapper-do and Sam Fucking Witwer’s everything... change whatever the fuck you need to change to somehow keep this man on your show. And then they even went and full-on made this man redeemable and gave him a heartbreaking backstory right before they killed him. Like, fuck you? Seriously. Fuck everyone for that one. I will never forgive them for killing Hyde.

Okay. Moving on from my general complaints, we come to my Killian-specific complaints. And there’s a lot of them. S6 did that character SO wrong SO many times... I really just want to take it out back and beat the shit out of it.

For starters, his relationships were ALL thrown in the shitcan. It was like S3-S5 just never happened and he was right back to Square One with everyone, being that dastardly pirate that can’t be trusted and that no one could ever care about. People who clearly cared enough about him to go to the fucking Underworld for him in S5 were suddenly calling him a pirate like it’s a foul word, and blatantly telling him he’s not good enough to be part of the family. Yeah, I get it, they wanted some dramatic negativity before showing these characters fully accepting and embracing him as part of their clan... but you know what makes for really awesome storytelling? Realistic relationships that grow and evolve over the course of several seasons - which was what they fucking HAD before they threw them all in the shitter for fake “developments” that had already happened. And FYI, Henry was actually nastier to Killian in the beginning of 6x06 than he was during the Spell of Shattered Sight. Like, did no one at the writers table even pause in their pursuit of drama long enough to realize that if Henry really ever had that much animosity towards Killian, it would’ve come out THEN? Or, you know, at any point in the course of the last four seasons?!

And it goes without saying: I would never, ever, ever have had Killian be the murderer of David’s father. Or, at the very least, I would’ve never had the murder go down the way they showed it in the flashback. Have it be an accidental death. Have it be a pirate duel. Have it be anything but cold-blooded murder. First of all, it’s just not believable that David could forgive him so easily and so quickly for depriving him of a loving father for no fucking reason. Secondly, they spend four whole seasons showing us flashbacks of a pirate with a deeply-buried heart of gold, who kept wanting to make the right decisions... but ended up making the wrong ones time and time again. They never showed us, before this ridiculously cheap dramatic ploy, a man who willfully murdered people just for shits and giggles. Finally, Killian Jones is a motherfucking pirate. Stealing from the King is par for the course, but the whole “Dead men tell no tales” thing makes ZERO sense. Pirates thrive by striking FEAR into the hearts of their enemies, and you don’t get a solid reputation for being a cut-throat villain to be feared by literally killing off all the witnesses to your evil deeds. Pirates are like, one step short of going “BEHOLD! It is I, Captain PirateGuy, here to steal your gold and seduce your ladies! Be sure to tell all your friends and neighbors about this when we’re through.” So... yeah. Way to throw a completely nonsensical spanner in the works that makes literally NO sense and flies in the face of everything else you’ve said and shown about this character in the past. It’s shit, and I refuse to accept it, and they should be sorry for its very existence.

And then there’s Captain Swan. *sigh* This relationship fell prey to the same shit that ALL of Killian’s relationships were destroyed by throughout S6. Only it was much, much worse here - because this is supposed to be (and has been!) his closest, most important relationship. And yet... We see Emma blow him off and then lie right to his face in the very first episode. Then she lies some more in each of the next few episodes, and when her lies are finally revealed, she doesn’t even seem to give a shit about the trust she’s betrayed or the hurt she’s caused. And the fact that they even filmed that deleted scene with Emma giving Killian a flippant “I said I was sorry...” just shows how fucking tone-deaf those writers were. If someone lies to your face, repeatedly, over something of life-or-death importance and for a lengthy period of time, then basically gives you a “I said I was sorry, what more do you want from me?” twenty minutes after their lies are revealed, because you’re still sore about it... get the FUCK out of that relationship immediately, because that person does not give two shits about you.

Things only got worse when she snooped through his belongings, pushed him to propose on her terms and when she wanted him to (despite the fact that he was clearly drunk and troubled by something at the time), called off their engagement when he dared to keep something from her (despite the fact that she’d just recently spent weeks lying right to his face), believed that he would just abandon her completely despite everything they’d been through, lied to him again right before their wedding in the course of once again shutting him out and not letting him help her with something (even though that’s literally the EXACT reason she ended their engagement when HE was the one doing it)... I mean, come on. That is NOT the CS I signed up for, and I refuse to accept it as the CS that is my OTP.

Hence, the Dark Emma explanation was born in my head. And when it comes to changes to S6... I’d either completely re-write about 90% of S6′s CS storylines... or make my Dark Emma theory a reality. The theory is as such: Since Emma did not die in 5x11, but merely had her Darkness sucked into Killian/Excaliber before HE died... some residual darkness remained in her. Nothing much was seen/noticed in 5b (though Killian DID make a comment about her not sleeping...) because she was too focused on saving Killian. However, once she was back home, safe and sound with her man, the Darkness started showing itself. She lied to those she loved. She made uncharacteristically selfish decisions. She hurt people. She eschewed all she’d learned about letting others in and getting help from the people who love her. And it wasn’t until her literal and figurative death at Gideon’s hands that the Darkness was truly eradicated from her - and only THEN could she truly find her Happy Beginning.

Oh, and by the way, I also hate the writers for even HAVING Killian walk to the docks with a packed bag and even consider boarding the Nautilus and leaving town. No. Just... no. Having him even CONSIDER doing that is even worse than having Emma believe he WOULD do such a thing to her. It’s like they got the S6 writers out of a Cracker Jack box and not a single one had ever watched an episode of the show or seen this couple before in their lives. Their whole fucking SCHTICK is that he would NEVER abandon her, that he would follow her to the end of the world or time itself... and that, despite a lifetime of fears and abandonment issues, Emma Swan has come to TRUST that he would never leave her. YOU CAN’T JUST GO “LOL, THAT’S NOT TRUE NOW” AND EXPECT ME TO ACCEPT THAT SHIT. No. Fuck you. Fuck your entire season AND the boat it rode in on. Just... fuck, man. FUCK.

The wedding was nice, though. I loved the musical aspect. Everyone did great in it. It was a truly lovely episode in almost every way, although I didn’t care for Emma’s dress and especially not her hairdo. It was too stark, too severe, but somehow too fancy at the same time... and it seemed more Jen Morrison than Emma Swan to me. Other than that, though, it was lovely. Everyone looked lovely. The singing was lovely. The vows were lovely. Shame about the whirling black vortex of doom, though.

Speaking of things that suck, I would also like to set that fucking doily shirt that Emma wore in 6x17 on fucking fire. And she actually DARED to rescue my man in that atrocity. Did she not realize I would need to SEE that shitty article of clothing every time I admired that dashing rescue? Did no one think of the KWs of the world who would suffer from this fashion faux pas?!?!

Oh, and I hate that they literally had Emma burn Killian’s image in the curse and not have any kind of recollection. I mean, I get that they wanted Henry to make her believe, and the way they got him to do that was cute, but did they HAVE to show Emma looking at Killian’s picture burning in the fire and being like, “Eh, he might ring a bell, but not enough to bother thinking about for more than a second or anything.” I could’ve done without that scene, honestly, because it just comes off like, “This love isn’t strong enough to break through this curse!” and EXCUSE ME, but where’s the fucking fun in that? Haven’t any of those bitches ever read a goddamn fanfic?! LOVE BREAKING THROUGH A CURSE IS ALL THE RAGE, GUYS. That’s the kind of shit we like to read and see in our OTPs. What’s with this “Eh, let that handsome fucker on page 172 burn” shit??

Oh, but that scene where Fiona serves the charred remains of the book to Henry on a platter would need to stay. That shit was stone cold savage. That bitch came to play, and that scene straight up told you that she was NOT going to be sitting at anyone’s Thanksgiving table next year, asking someone to pass the potatoes like she was just named People Magazine’s Redeemed Villain of the Year or something. She meant business.

Finally, I think I would’ve ended the show with the S6 finale. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed S7 and I loved KnightRook and Wish Hook and all the excellent Colin content we got that year... but in hindsight, the Hail Mary play of rebooting the series really just didn’t work, and S7 ended up as the “extra chapter” the series itself didn’t need. It’s not that I would want to give up the awesomeness of what we had... It’s just that I feel like if we hadn’t had it, we’d be unaware of what we were missing out on anyway, but the series as a whole would’ve maintained more of its impact and dignity.

But then, we were blessed with Wish Hook and the wonders of S7 Hooked Queen, so... :D I mean, coulda shoulda woulda, I’ve got ‘em now and you can’t take that away from meeee...

#ouat criticism #season 6 #not whxmp #anonymous #kw ask box

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