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faegoddessog · 1 year ago

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Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch. 33/41

Chapter 33: Overwhelm in the Stars

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, fellatio, fingering, forced orgasm, unprotected PiV( play safy ya'll )

Series Masterlist

Series Summary:

You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, here there be lemons.

Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes involved here.

Chapter 33: Overwhelm in the Stars

Special thanks to @purejasmine who partially inspired the action in this Chapter!

April turns into May and temperatures start to drop. Which you find bizarre being from the northern hemisphere. But as long as you don’t think about the month, the fall is quite lovely and mild. Restrictions ease, Austin takes to walking the beach, listening to Elvis in his headphones. Sometimes you go with him, holding hands on the relatively deserted beaches. You like to find a spot to paint or read while he wanders for a couple hours. It always makes you giggle to see people’s reaction to him when he is practicing Elvis’ words or sounds. The best one by far was Elvis’ laughter. He was on his way back to you, laughing, stopping, listening, laughing again. As you watched, one guy with a surfboard walked by him, then turned around and gave him the funniest look. You just cracked up, Austin barely noticed at the time, but turned red when you told him about it.

Even though the situation is a bit scary and tedious at times, it has been kind of magical to have Austin all to yourself. Well, you share him with Elvis, but that doesn’t really bother you. Honestly it’s good that he has something to focus on.

You begin to email and text with Rita about her kitchen in Greece, getting roughly sketched floor plans and pictures and researching potential materials and construction regulations for the area. You enjoy planning and sketching all old school with graph paper, cuz you got nuthin’ but time!

June rolls in and, like the rest of the world, you are starting to get restless with the sameness of every day. He still wakes up early, still asks to slide into you often. Sex has been nice, but routine.

He comes out of his office room early one afternoon and firmly shuts the door.

“Kitten, I need a break.” he says seriously, knife-handing for emphasis.

You look up at him from the couch where you are reading a book with big eyes. Does he mean from you? from Elvis? What did you do? What did you not do? What is happening? Your heart is beating in your ears. Why the fuck are you reacting this way?

“I uh… Oh… Okay,” your voice stammers, frightened. Be cool, you said no hard feelings, shit, shit, shit.

“Don’t let me go in that room for like a week,” he says, rubbing his eyes, head down. He has not noticed your panicked reaction.

You feel like a deer in headlights, it takes a few seconds to understand what he said.

He blinks down at you, probably expecting some kind of reaction.

“OH!” you let out a shuddering breath you didn’t realize you were holding, hand partially covering your face, “I thought…. ” your voice sounds so small.

He looks at you in confusion, then realization dawns on his face.

“Oh baby no! Shit I’m sorry hunny! Not from you, not from us, from Elvis!” He closes the gap between you in two long strides, sitting down next to you and pulling you close to him. Tears you didn’t know were holding in spill out.

“I don't want to do this without you, baby,” he strokes your hair as you bury your face in his chest. ”No, no we are good…. Are we good?” he asks, suddenly looking down into his chest at you.

“Stupid inadequacy issues,” you puff out, shaking your head. You look up at his concerned face, with tear streaked cheeks and sniff.

“Oh Kitten, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking. That’s what I mean, I’ve not been thinking about anything other than Elvis for too long. And you’ve been amazing and I’ve just been obsessed. That’s what I need a break from,” his words tumble out, trying to reassure you. His thumb wipes away your tears, he kisses your forehead.

You take a big breath in, blowing it out, nodding your head. Apparently, you hadn't realized how deeply intertwined you two have become, when just the passing idea of him leaving brings you to tears. You are more upset that it affected you like this than you are about the misunderstanding.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I immediately jumped to that conclusion. This whole lockdown thing has me all….” you stick your tongue out to the side and roll your eyes. You look in each other's eyes for the space of two heartbeats. You start sniggering at your own ridiculousness, holding your hand over your mouth. He chuckles and shakes his head, holding you to his chest.

“Oh Kitten, I love you. I feel like I’ve been neglecting you and you’ve been so patient and caring,” he says, “and don’t tell me I’ve not been, cuz it’s how I feel. ”

“Ok,” you say simply.

“I wish I could take you out on a date, or lavish you with gifts or do something big for you right now,” he laments, his fingers rubbing on your forearm.

“Austin, gifts and dates and grand gestures are nice,” you assure him, “but I don’t need them. What I really could use is just some you right now, plain and simple.”

“You got it, Kitten,” he says, tilting your chin up to his mouth. His kiss is sweet and simple and present. You melt into him.

You sit, cuddled up on him for a bit, he is rubbing in long strokes up and down your back.

“How about we get out of here tonight,” he says.

“Ok, where though?” you ponder.

“Let’s pack some food and bring blankets and stuff and just drive until we can see the stars, we just can’t cross the border,” he suggests.

“Yes! I fucking love the stars! Let’s do it!” you sit up, excited for the first time in weeks, and throw your arms around his neck, kissing him hard.

Austin makes PBJ’s and packs some random food into a cooler. You gather pillows and blankets, toothbrushes and a quick change of clothes for both of you. You come out from the 2nd bedroom triumphantly holding a big thermos up high. Austin is filling water bottles and you start heating water to make some hot chocolate. The excitement in the air is palpable.

Thirty minutes later you are pulling out from the underground garage, Austin sitting in the seat next to you for the first time, instead of hiding. Who the fuck cares now anyway, plus no one is hanging around outside anymore anyway.

You insist on using your own non-Elvis playlists for music, Austin agrees, he really does need the break.

You drive west for almost two hours. It is marvelous and freeing to get away. No plan, just driving.

The sun is getting low as you pull up to a picnic area next to Lake Moogerah that is scattered with pavilions. You find one next to the lake and cuddle together on the picnic table, munching on PBJ’s and watching the sunset. You hear some crunching on the gravel behind you. You turn around to see a lady walking her dog towards you.

“G’day, beaut of a sunset yeah?” she says, stopping about 10 feet from you guys.

“Yeah it really is” Austin says.

“Oh yanks are ya, well ya know ya can't park overnight here. Do ya have a place to stay?" she inquires.

"Oh, no we didn’t know, thank you,” Austin is always so polite, ”we might just drive back to the city later, unless you have any suggestions.”

“I have a glampin’ tent just up the road there that’s vacant. It has a heatah and access to the bathroom in the main house, has a queen bed and a minibah. We just got the go ahead to open today. So it’s yours if you want it.”

Austin looks at you eyebrows raised. You are already nodding.

“We’ll be up after sunset then,” he says. She gives you directions and says she’ll meet you there in a half hour.

The tent is amazing. It’s set up just in front of a huge Queenslander rental house, which is where your bathroom is. It opens up to a gorgeous view of the lake and mountains. It is much larger than you expected, clean, warm and comfortable. It has a stocked snack and mini fridge bar and a coffee maker. There are little fairy lights hung inside for soft lighting. There is no one renting the main house tonight, so you can make it really dark for stargazing.

It’s not that cold out, just a chill in the air. Your sweatshirt would suffice, the blankets are just to make it cozier. Austin pulls out the hot chocolate and you snuggle up with your blankets and pillows to watch the stars, sipping the sweet hot liquid.

It’s so odd, because you grew up stargazing with your family, and these are definitely not your stars. You feel like you are on another planet. You open your phone app that helps you find constellations. It is magical, just being together under the stars, feeling so small in the universe, yet also expansive.

You are nerding out, finding several of the southern constellations including the southern cross and Canis major. Trying to point them out to Austin.

“Why does that one look so damn familiar?” you are pointing up. You hold up the phone above your head

“I’m a goofy silly girl! It’s fucking Orion, just upside down! My daddy always said heaven was in the middle star of his belt, see?” you point up then look over at Austin. He is just staring at you with soft eyes in the red glow of the phone.

“I think it’s closer than that,” he says to you.

Your heart swells, then melts.

Like the opposite poles of a magnet your lips are drawn together. Your leg swings up and over his body, bringing your blankets with you. Straddling him on his chair, kissing, hips pressed together. For a few minutes you are just teenagers making out, dry humping on the porch because your parents won’t let you be alone inside. You can feel his bulge through the double layers of jeans.

He pushes you away just a little and reaches down to readjust his hardening cock. The nice thing is, you are not teenagers and no one is trying to restrict your access to this gorgeous man and his willingness to fuck the daylights out of you.

“Why don’t you get that out for me,” you whisper in his ear.

You duck down, between his legs, as he undoes his fly and pulls himself out, lowering his pants down his hips just a little.

While he is doing that, you undo your own jeans under the blankets and manage to wiggle out of them, leaving your soft, stretchy undies on.

Holding him upright, you trace designs with your tongue on his shaft and up to his tip. You lick your lips under the dark blanket. Placing your tongue on the top, you use your lips to massage his tip. Retracting your tongue into your mouth and closing your lips around him, then dragging along his head as you push him out with your tongue. Saliva drips from your lower lip every time you push him out. You hear him groaning on the outside of the covers. You push him in deep, slurping up all the spit you dribbled along his shaft. You ride him with your mouth for a dozen strokes or so.

Then you emerge from under the blankets, kissing him with your wet sloppy mouth. You straddle him again, just below his now hard and exposed cock. His hands land on your bare thighs.

“When did that happen?” he asks, indicating your pants-less state.

“When you were distracted,” you smile.

“Well you are distracting,” he rubs you through the crotch of your panties, soaking your wetness through. He slips his fingers under the fabric, then pulls it aside, dipping his fingers into you.

“Mmmmmmm” a slow lazy moan falls from you.

“Oh Kitten, I’m so sorry I've been neglecting you. I’m gonna make it up to you, promise,” he says, his forehead pressed to yours.

“Austin, you don’t…” you start, but he interrupts you with a kiss and his fingers running circles around your pussy. Fore and middle fingers around your opening, pinky and ring fingers brushing your clit.

It shuts you right up because it feels amazing. Your hips drop forward toward his hand.

“Oh mon Roi, that feels good,” you murmur into his mouth.

His other hand drifts up your shirt and around your back, undoing your bra deftly. His cool fingers trace around to the front. You gasp through your nose since he was still occupying your mouth with his tongue. He rubs along the line where your bra was tight, heightening the sensations that much more. He massages your breast, nipple caught in the crux of his fingers, sending a needle like zing to your core. Still his other hand is steadily working your pussy. The familiar warm glow is building just behind your mons. You lift up, reaching for his cock to slide him into you. He sits up a bit, pulling his hips and mouth away from you.

“Oh no, baby, this is just about you right now,” he says, “look up when you’re close, Kitten, I want you to cum in the stars.”

Damn, how is it that he makes things that could be corny, sound so damn sexy.

“Keep talking Austin, tell me dirty things,” you moan. Your hands are on his shoulders, holding on. You realize there is more light now, the moon is beginning to light up the sky, threatening to rise over the mountains.

“God, I love seeing you worked up just from my fingers playing with your cunt,” his deep voice draws out that last, filthy word, enunciating the /t/.

“I love your long gorgeous fingers,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah? Do you want them inside you?” he almost whispers.

“Uh huh,’ you bite your lip, nodding.

“You want t’ cum on them?” he asks low, licking his lips.

“Please, yes,” you would do anything to have him inside you right now.

He starts pulsing the two fingers at your slit, but not going in. It’s driving you crazy. You try to grind yourself onto them with a closed-mouth pouting moan, but he won’t let you.

“Ah ah ah, baby. Just wait,” he admonishes you.

Pulling his fingers away and bringing them up to his mouth, he licks a long line between his fingers. You watch him like you are lost in the desert and he is the only water. You find yourself diving forward as his tongue reaches his fingertips. You press your open mouth partially to his upper lip, partially to his fingers, your tongues meet and play between his two digits, tasting of your slick. His fingers slide away and you keep kissing him, your hands on his face. You feel him sliding under your panties and along your labia again, wet from both your tongues.

He resumes his pulsing against your opening, still refusing to enter you.

He is pinching your other nipple, mimicking his pulses at the same rate.

You pull away from his face, head tilted up in a pouting whine to the sky. You are trying to be patient, trying to wait, but your body wants him inside you. Your hips rock back and forth, desperate for penetration.

“Oh Kitten, so wanton, wanting me inside you any way you can get me,” he chides, still pulsing at your entrance, “and I want you too, my gorgeous little hussy,” the last he breathes into the night air.

Finally, his pulses start sinking into you, a little further with each one.

“Oh- my- fucking- god,” your voice is rough and breathy with each pulse inside you. You are staring into his eyes.

“Yes, I am your fucking god,” he slides his hand out from under your shirt and to his mouth. His eyes burning sexy, maddening holes into yours in the diffused moonlight. A hint of that dark fae around his edges.

Sticking out his tongue, he slides the pad of his thumb over it. Watching you intently, he slips his wet thumb under your panties and onto your clit with a little roguish smile. He knows how it will affect you.

“Oh god, yes, right there,” your hips are shaking under his ministrations.

His fingers are fully seated inside you now, pulsing still, thumb rubbing in little circles.

“Don’t stop,” you moan.

“Oh, I won’t,” his tone is that of promise and threat.

Moonlight spills over the top of the mountains. Silvery strands of light laying themselves upon you both.

“Your naked skin would look so amazing in the moonlight,” Austin remarks, mostly to himself.

Without a second thought, you pull your sweatshirt and shirt off over your head, your bra tangled in amongst the fabric.

“Oh baby, you’ll get cold,” he says, concerned.

“Then you better keep me w–w-w-w-arm,” you moan out as his fingers find a particularly perfect rhythm. The glow inside you is on the verge of spilling over. You lean back, your hands on his knees, head tilted up. The blankets fall back, the cool night air makes your nipples pucker and your skin pebble. But you barely notice the chill, Austin has you so hot.

“Holy Mother, you are shining, baby,” he breathes.

You move rhythmically, grinding into his hands.

“The light on your throat, on your tits. It’s like the moon herself is cumming on you,” he says.

Fuck, that is a thought you’ve never had. Hot, especially from Austin’s dirty, sexy mouth.

Each push forward into his hand is accentuated with a moaning “ah, ah, ‘ah.” Then you inhale in a gasping breath, holding it in as everything tightens, your hips vibrating against him.

“Fuck yeah Kitten, cum on my lap, cum in those stars,” he urges you on.

It starts deep in your seed center and waves up your spine in a rippling shudder. Even your eyelids shiver as you struggle to keep your eyes open and pointed up. When you finally exhale, it’s in waves. You barely make any other sound to the sky.

You jerk forward, hunched over Austin, hands on his shoulders, pulling your hips away.

“Oh no you don’t dirty girl,” he says. His hands are on your hips, pulling you back to him, “you aren't getting away from me.”

He straightens upright in order to wrap one arm around your low back, hand pressing to keep you close to him. Austin immediately takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking with his tongue. His other hand is fliplped over, palm down, between you. The backs of his first and middle fingers like snake fangs pointing down on either side of your clit. The tips of those long fingers falling against your inner labia. The sensations go deep as he pushes in and down, in and down, milking your clit. It’s such a small movement with such a big impact.

You rut into his bent knuckles, clenching and releasing your glutes, your thighs, your pelvic floor. Your eyes are squeezed tight, head bowed to his.

“Open those eyes, look up,” he says, switching to the other nipple.

You tilt back, supported by his hand on your back. You do your best to open your eyes. But as his mouth pulls hard at your nipple, you are lifted, tilted over the next edge.

“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod,” you chant. Your eyes close and you are jerking to get your sensitive clit away from his knuckles. Of course, he won’t let you get away. He is always so much stronger than you assume. Holding your hips tight, his hand flips over and rubs light and fast over the surface of your clit. You writhe.

“Oh no, baby, you are gonna keep cumming,” he asserts, unable to keep his mouth on your twitching tits.

He refuses to give you any reprieve. He buries his fingers inside you again, pummeling your pussy with his palm. The switch in sensation is like an upslope that lifts you higher. You freeze, still for a long moment. Holding your breath, you let him finger fuck you hard. Sloppy, wet slapping sounds are the only thing breaking the night's stillness.

You didn’t think you could clamp down any harder, but as everything funnels down to your core, you tighten around his fingers. Your back arches and a high pitched whine careens from your throat. Your pelvis grinds down onto his fingers as your voice modulates low “OH! Fuck me, YES!” His hand drips with your juices.

Austin just chuckles low. “Not yet, Kitten,” he is watching your face as you cum with each dig of your hips.

Your hips come to a full and complete stop as does his fingers. Your ragged breath barely begins to even out. You lean down, hands on either side of his face and softly kiss him.

“Mmm, that was good, baby,” you murmur into his mouth. His hands disengage from your crotch.

He guides you off him, “Turn around,” he says, having made a decision.

You stand up wobbly, blankets and all. Austin takes the opportunity to pull off his jeans and underwear. You are expecting a good hard fuck in the grass as he reaches up and yanks your panties off. But he pulls your hips down to sit between his legs on the chair instead. The blankets spread over you both.

“Lean back and spread your legs, beautiful,” his voice is low and gravely in your ear.

You are not sure how he is going to get off in this position, his cock would be trapped behind your back, not in you.

‘Austin, I’m, I’m done, I’m good, what about you?” you say, turning a little to look at him and reaching for his cock.

“Oh hoh Kitten,” he laughs deviously, his gaze locking onto yours, “ I’m not done with you , I think I owe you a little more,” he pulls you back against him.

“Oh baby, you don’t-” you start trying to assure him once again, but his hand comes under your jaw. Thumb and forefinger spread, pressing just in front of the joint on either side, the rest of his fingers digging into the side of your neck. You gasp, hand going instinctively to his wrist. It’s the closest he’s ever come to choking you, although there is no pressure on your throat. You are immediately putty in his hands.

“Shhhh, Kitten, my darlin’,” he purrs in your ear, “you still haven’t cum in the stars for me. So you are going to take it, and like it and beg me for more until you can’t handle it.”

Your breath comes out in a shudder as your pussy drips. God, his voice, his words, his hands, how is this man possible? You didn’t know that was what you were in for tonight, but you fucking love it.

“Now, spread your legs,“ he says pointedly.

You do, looping your legs over his in the chair. Your wet pussy lips peeling apart under the blanket.

Austin reaches down and starts moving against your already swollen, sensitive snatch.

“There’s my good girl,” he whispers in your ear.

His fingers move in soft circles around your clit. You moan, eyes closing.

“You like it when I play with this pussy, don’t you Kitten,” his voice like honey, dripping onto your neck.

“Oui, mon Roi,” you answer in French.

“Should I have fingered you in the car on the way here?” honey dripping in between your breasts.

“Uh huh,” your other arm reaches up, your hand curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Oh this pussy is so wet, always so needy,” his fingertips push harder.

“All the time, always for you, mon Roi,” you moan.

“God damn, you make me want you so much,” his hips are pushing against you.

You are flushing with heat, you kick the blankets away, the cool air tingling on your wetness.

“Oh, such a naughty Kitten, you want to be exposed?” his breath hot on your neck, ”anyone could walk around the house and see me fingering you, watch me make you thrash. You would love that, wouldn't you.”

Oh fuck, you didn’t know you had a an exhibitionist kink until this moment. The idea of being watched kicks you up a notch.

“I would,” you moan, nodding.

“What if it was Loki,” he plays to your fantasies, “and I hold your legs open,” he wraps his legs on top of yours, holding them apart, “and let him fuck you, use you,” he disentangles your hand from his hair and pushes your own fingers into your cunt, “just like this, while I rubbed you the way I know you like it.”

Oh. My. God. The idea of a hot Tom Hiddleston with dark hair mercilessly sinking himself into you as Austin holds you. FUCK, that takes you to a whole other level.

“OH Fuck Austin… yes. Yes, YES!!!!” you are crying out, fucking yourself with your own fingers.

You are pushing back against him. His hand tightens on your jaw, holding your head tilted back against his shoulder as he works your clit. His cock, desperate for friction, is working between you, spreading his pre-cum on your low spine.

FUCK YES, It feels so fucking good, being held down by him, being so open to the sky, to the silky moonlight.

You skyrocket into the stars, your eyes shoot open and you are staring at Sirius, the dogstar. For long held seconds you are Sirius, with rays of light shining from your head as you ignite, lighting up the night.

“There she is, my shining girl in the stars,” he is humming in your ear. Jerking, you stop your barrage into yourself. Austin’s hand covers your pussy, pressing softly, soothingly, drops of your cum cooling on your inner thighs.

You get a long breath or two, shaking as you start to think about coming down.

“Thank you Austin,” you say breathily.

“Oh no, don’t thank me yet,” he growls in your ear. Your orgasm-addled brain is confused. Until Austin slaps your pussy, jolting you back to him. It’s not super hard, but it makes you jerk.

“I’m still not done,“

Slap

“Oh, I don’t know if-” you begin.

SLAP!

You gasp.

“What a filthy, naughty girl, to be so turned on by someone else’s cock,” his voice is not angry, but husky with desire.

“I think you like the idea too,” you risk, undulating against his cock, “it’s pretty wet back there.”

Austin’s gruff laugh puffs out with a shake of his head.

“Maybe, as long as I get to reclaim you as mine,” his fingers tighten on your jaw and neck for a long, pointed moment before releasing entirely to slide down to your breasts. His last word rumbles into your brain, sending shivers down your spine

“I’m yours, Austin, all yours,” your voice is light, airy, full of yearning.

“Mmhmmm, yes you are,” he kisses your cheek tenderly.

“Now, tell me you want more,” Slap

“OH,” you squeak and jump. You hadn’t expected it.

“Say it,” he demands. Slap

“Oh- I,” you aren’t sure if you can go more. ‘ Yes you can, you want it and you know it.” your demon says.

“Tell me,” he says through gritted teeth. SLAP

“I want more,” you squeal a little on the last word.

“Say my name.” SLAP

You don’t quite register that this is your out, should you need it until you are saying:

“I want more Austin.” Fuck yeah you do. That bitch.

“What do you want, Kitten?” he prompts you. SLAP

“Spank my pussy ‘till I cum again,” your succubus answers for you before you can think. Oh shit, that was your outside voice.

“Oh, my filthy little insatiable harlot,” SLAP. His voice is full of unmet desire, you know he is just as turned on as you are. His hard cock is throbbing behind your back.

He starts in on your mons, stinging slaps then rubbing your clit fast side to side. The combo is unhinging you.

“Holy shit Kitten, you’ve got me so,” SLAP, “fucking,” SLAP, “hot.“ SLAP. Each stinging smack a little harder than the last. Clearly it’s unhinging him as well.

Flicking light and fast over your swollen nub he growls in your ear “I’m going to fuck you so hard after this, you won’t have to open your eyes to see the stars.” SLAP. SLAP.

You meet each new sting with a gasping moan.

His hips are rutting against your back. You wish he was inside of you.

“Please fuck me Austin, I need your cock,” you whine and moan.

“Oh Hunny, cum for me and I will,” his voice vibrates against your back and into your brainstem. How is he so fucking good? With each flick, each smack, you vacillate between being hungry for more and wanting him to stop.

Immense pressure is building behind your clit with every contact of his hand. You are forced over the brink yet again. You cinch down onto nothing. Every muscle straining You curl and try to close your legs, writhing. But his legs are forcing you to stay open. He continues the actual onslaught of your pussy. SLAP. Rub. SLAP. Flick. SLAP. Rub.

It’s too much, and not enough all at once.

“Nononono,” you are trying to pull his hands away from you, to protect your poor, wanting pussy. He grabs your hands and holds them tight to your belly and keeps rubbing and spanking you. You are struggling against him in the most delicious way.

“Beg me,” he growls in your ear.

“Please, please, stop, Austin, stop,” you whimper weakly.

“I don't think you really mean it,” his chuckle is deep in this chest. He slaps you again, and again, and again. Then his long fingers plunge into your dripping slit, stirring at your g spot. It pitches you into a spiral. Dangling over the chasm in his grip.

You are keening; cumming. You are biting into the meaty part of your own thumb; cumming. You are dripping around his fingers onto the chair; cumming. Cumming so hard, you are bewildered, disoriented and also laser focused on his fingers rasping against you again and again and again. You thought you were cumming before, it’s nothing compared to this. This is celestial devilry made carnal. Only the gods orgasm like this. You feel as much as hear your sweet fluid squirt out of you.

“Please, I can’t, again” you beg, sobbing.

He ignores your plea, raking his hands from back to front in succession along your pussy, fingers digging into your slit as he drags them up, grasping and shaking your mons and clit in his palm at the top. Right. Left. Right. Left. Over and over again, triggering immense aftershocks. Your spine is undulating in time with his raking of you. Your screaming moans modulate with the motion of his hands.

With a final grip and shake on your vulva, he stops. You are still shaking.

“Oh lord baby I need to be in you,” he presses you forward, up and off his lap. You are unable to stand, fuzzy. You ooze onto the blankets that fell on the grass, lying on your back. He is on you in seconds, knees between your legs. You are brought back to sharp focus by his cock sliding into your buzzing pussy.

“Oh my god Kitten, you are so hot around me,” Austin moans.

It is nirvana to be filled with him at last. You wrap your arms and legs around him as he thrusts in and out of you, banging the hell out of you under the night sky. He isn’t holding back, chasing his own release. He is right, you see the stars whether or not your eyes are open.

Holy fuck you’ve never been pushed this far in so many ways. Your tight, clenching pussy feels so full, so stretched by his cock pounding into you. Nerves that have been overstimulated are on the verge of rebelling. Fuck you want him never to stop, and if he doesn't stop you may never recover.

“Come on baby, one more big one for me,” the strain of his lust evident in his low gritty tone. It washes over you and you fracture. Your full throated scream echoes across the lake. You twist, and turn and thrash under him, your whole body contorting in inscrutable pleasure. No, pleasure isn’t right. It’s higher than that, harder, vehement. It rocks the foundations of what you believe to be true. Only the gods fuck like this.

“Ohmigod, my Kitten, fucking mine, all mine,” he underscores each thrust with a word. You are violently shaking under him as he surges into you, every muscle straining.

Finally all motion ceases, you are crying into his shoulder, clinging to him as a touchpoint of reality. You aren’t sure who you are or where you are, only that Austin is here, keeping you from dying.

He lifts off you. Standing. Leaving you in the cold momentarily. You curl around your core, crying in overwhelm. Then you are in his arms, floating. Crying into his shoulder. Being laid in a warm bed with his warm naked body protecting you. Holding you. Petting your head and rubbing your back. Whispering soft words of love. Pressing a water bottle to your mouth as your crying subsides into soft whimpers and then into shaky breaths.

“You are here my love, with me” Austin is saying,” just breathe. I got you.”

...........

You wake up in the morning to sounds of birds outside. Austin is asleep next to you, just where you like him to be. You sneak out to pee and take care of yourself, after last night's worship to Eros, you need a shower.

When you get back, Austin is still snoring. You climb back into bed and cuddle up next to him. You doze. You wake up to the smell of coffee and Austin, also freshly showered, bringing you a cup.

You sit up in bed and gratefully accept it. He sits down on the bed with you, sipping his own cup. He left the tent flap open and you can see across the lake. What a magnificent thing, to have that view while in bed, and this dreamboat of a man next to you. Bringing you coffee nonetheless! “Thank you for last night Austin,” you say, hands wrapped around the white steaming cup.

“You are so welcome, my love,” he says with a smile, obviously feeling like he has ‘made it up’ to you.

…............

As you are leaving, the owner is walking her dog along the road towards you. You stop and roll down the window to thank her for everything.

“I was comin’ to check on ya! Did ya hear that cougar screamin’ last night?” she says concerned, ”it sounded pretty close by.”

“Oh? I don’t think we did,” Austin says a little confused.

“Yeah,” she says, “a month or so ago, one was spotted a bit north of here, but have never heard it before. It were erie, echoed across the lake.”

“Oh, well we are ok, glad we didn’t see it!” you say.

You tell her thank you and that you’d leave a glowing review.

As you are driving away, Austin is shaking his head, “Wow, that is a little scary.”

You burst out laughing.

“What is so funny, we could’ve gotten attacked! Being just in that tent!”

“Oh baby, I’m sorry. That was no cougar she heard, it was me cumming last night. Cougars sound like a woman screaming.”

“No way, you think so?” Austin is smiling realizing the implications.

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard them back home, I would have recognized it.

“Oh my god, that is funny!” Austin joins you in laughing.

#Austin Butler #Austin Butler smut #Austin Butler x reader #Austin Butler fic #Austin butler fanfic #@purejasmine #@slowsweetlove #@richardslady121

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sarah-dipitous · 11 months ago

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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 355

Eve of the Daleks

Not posting yesterday felt weird. I can’t believe 2024 is gonna be like that for 366 days…

“Eve of the Daleks”

Plot Description: on New Year’s Eve, at an Elf Storage facility, Sarah is working—again. Nick is her only customer—again. Same old same old. Except this year, their countdown to midnight will be the strangest and deadliest they have ever known

(Before I press play, I do wonder if I’ll feel the same way watching this as Mary (potentially) feels every time there’s a Mary I talk about in one of these series. I didn’t feel it with Sarah Jane but that’s because she’s Sarah JANE)

…dude…read the room. She’s CLEARLY rather be AT those parties on nye than at work. I mean, just because you and I don’t like nye, doesn’t mean everyone doesn’t

Shut the fuck up, Nick. Yes, she deserves better than Jeff, but that doesn’t mean YOU

Also how does she stay in business if Nick is her ONLY customer??

They were promised a beach and the Doctor brought them to Manchester

Oh…Jeff isn’t her boyfriend, he’s a family member? Coworker? Truly not sure

Excuse me?!?! It killed Nick and Sarah, but then it also seemingly killed the TARDIS trio??

Are we in a time loop? Why is the Dalek sending them into a time loop rather than actually killing them?

Dalek: The inferior human is correct. Dan: who are you calling inferior?! Dalek: you. (I will never not love when the Daleks are sassy)

“We’re stuck in a time loop with killer robots” is the funniest thing to immediately make sense for two people who’ve never met the Doctor before

Nick, you need a better way to explain that. You can’t just say you’ve held on to stuff from all the women you’ve dated in a storage unit just in case they ever want it back…especially not organized this thoroughly. She can buy a new monopoly game. She’s harsh, but Sarah’s right, he should throw things away

They better not have killed Dan off. I know he’s the most random dude who just got real lucky to get brought along but…doesn’t mean he deserves to die

Sarah’s so fucking funny. Girl, you did not have to tell Nick you did not go looking for him in the second loop

So, how ARE Jeff’s rooms full of random shit going to actually end up helping?

I don’t want them to end up together but if they could be casual friends after this, I think it would be good for both of them. Sarah already said Nick’s crush on her for the past three years and coming to the storage unit just before midnight on nye is stalker-y. Don’t make them get together

So at what point did Yaz start feeling this way about the Doctor?? Graham and Ryan never picked up on it but DAN does?? UNLESS it was after the other two left

Dan being the best wingman for Yaz

Omg…it’s not elf storage…it was always meant to be self storage

You know…that was even more spectacular than when Rose’s workplace blew up. There’s fireworks this time

Uuuuuugggggghhhhhhhh they DID make Sarah and Nick a couple in the end…….wait. Wait. Wait. Their first date is traveling around the world together. PUMP THE FUCKING BREAKS AND GET COFFEE OR DINNER FIRST

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023

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vyragosa · 2 years ago

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if i start thinking for more than two seconds how they were acting hysterical this whole damn scene, funniest scene in the whole entire world “but it was so sad?”

nonono do you realize what the script was looking like? do you realize the kind of shit amelie was rehearsing? IT NEVER GETS OLD

do you realize this is how amelie scolded him on the beach right after? “stop moaning in front of sam and making yourself the damsel in distress i thought it was supposed to be my role here”

do you realize that was the reason amelie was mad like this gif right after? HOW HIGGS GOT SCOLDED FOR ACTUAL HOURS PROBABLY? IMAGINE GETTING SCOLDED ON THE BEACH WITH NO SENSE OF TIME AND NOT GOING CRAZY ? ?? ? ? ? and higgs was just kneeling in front of her the whole time. truly the worsties of all time, truly the absolute worsties of all times, besties who could cannibalize one another

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dryades-angeli · 2 years ago

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Pure Boredom

1. What’s your sexual orientation? Asexuell, - Heterosexual with tendency to being Bisexual.

2. What are you obsessed with right now? Santa Claus von Divine Gate, but Anime in generall.

3. Ever done any drugs? Nope. And I never would.

4. What piercings do you want? My five Earpiercings are enouh for me.

5. How many people have you kissed? Two. The Wheiro in my School and my first boyfriend.

6. Describe your dream home. A greek Villa with Pool near the beach.

7. Who are you jealous of? Of Artist´s who can better draw then me. But I don´t blame them, but take it as movitation to get better with my drawing skills.

8. What’s your favorite show to binge? I don't drink. So I have no idea. xD

9. Do you watch porn? I watched three Softporns out of interest.

10. Do you have a secret sideblog? Yes, I do.

11. If you could teleport anywhere in the world right now, where would you go? Straight to Japan and Egypt. May Greece, too.

12. What’s one of your fantasies? Becoming a famous Mangaka or Author, so I can support my family..

13. Do you have/would you get your nipples pierced? Eow. NOO!

14. How would you spend a million dollars? Giving the half to my parents, a little bit to my brother and the rest... I am wishless.

15. Are you in a relationship? Nope.

16. Do you follow porn blogs? A few NFSW pages dedicated to Anime&Manga couples. But other than that, I'm not a big porn fan.

17. Are you angry with anyone right now? Yes. With my mother. I have no idea how you can make so much fuss and one too many hung towels.

18. What tattoos do you want? More butterflys please. Or Angelwings on my shoulder blades.

19. If you could change your name, would you? What would you change it to? Nope. I am satisfied with my name.

20. What is something you’re obsessed with? My PC/Computer maybe.

21. Describe your best friend. I have none. But just very good friends.

22. Tag someone you think is hot. @mikotofubar xDDDD

23. Who are five of your favorite bands/musical artists? Evanescenes Sarah Connor Todrick Hall Citizen Soldier RIELL

24. What are three places you want to travel? - Japan - Egypt - Greece

25. Describe your perfect Friday night. Sitting in front of my PC, drawing and listing good Music.

26. What’s your favorite season? Summer. The hotter the better.

27. What’s your pet peeve? ...idk. Stones in the shoe

28. Who is the funniest person you know? Miss thousend names. One of my good friends and already engaged with her girlfriend.

29. What’s the most overrated movie? The Star Wars films. I´ve never seen a bigger shit than that. My father loved it, but telled me, Neflix´"Wedneyday" is something for kids.

30. Tag someone you want to talk to but have been too shy to message. My old school crush.

31. Do you like paper books or ebooks better? My dear mother gave me once a ebook. But it wasn´t mine. I already have enough devices that I have to think about charging. I don't need another book like that. I also love the feel of paper on my fingers.

32. If you could live in a fictional world, what world would you pick? The world of Divine Gate. I would marry Santa

33. If money was no object, what would your wardrobe be like? I think like now. Just stuffed.

34. What’s your coffee order? I really hate coffee. It was to bitter for me. I prefer cocoa.

35. Do you have a crush on anyone? Not now, if an Animecharacters doesn´t counts.

36. Do you still have feelings for any of your exes? One ex. And NO.

37. Have any tattoos? Yes. The devilish butterfly from the Gena Showalter books on my collarbone.

38. Do you drink? Just a little on special occasions. But I can't stand too much alcohol either.

39. Are you a virgin? It's really nobody's business.

40. Do you have a crush on any of your mutuals? No...

41. How many followers do you have? 123 on my main Tumblrblog.

42. Describe the hottest person you know. I like the actor of Gideon de Viliers, Jannis Niewöhner. Brown chinlenght hair, blue exes, tick eyebrows, broad lips and shoulders, ghigh cheekbones...

43. What’s your guilty pleasure? Reading erotic books and Mangas.

44. Do you read erotica? Yes. But I like it when a really nice love story is told around it and there is no mindless banging around.

45. What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on? I had never date someone.

46. How many people do you follow? 123 people, as I said. Why is that so important?

47. If you could marry any celebrity, who would you pick? No one.

48. Describe your ideal partner. Kind, playful, humorous, loves childs, protective instinct, honest. I like men who are a little bigger, broad-shouldered and maybe (not a must) have slightly longer hair.

49. Who do you text the most? Idk. I would say, my pack.

50. What’s your favorite kind of weather? Sunny days, warm weather.

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tomyo · 1 year ago

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Kingdom hearts 3, finally finishing it 4 years later

A game I honestly didn't think would be off this list for a while. I bought the game when it came out and then never finished it because I was using my roommate's PS4.

Recently a friend lent me his PS4 now that the PS5 exists and after months of con season I finally sat down with it. I had intended to start from scratch until I learnt the several hours I played on the guest account where erased and my sanity would not allow several hours of tutorial again.

In the end, I bought a psn membership and reached out to that old roommate which was a nice experience. I missed them but have always just been to much in my bullshit to reach out until apparently *this*.

Maybe the funniest thing to say about all of this is this is my first and only time I've played a kingdom hearts game meaning my gameplay expectations were average. I had a goofy fun time after not having to play Olympus a third time and I relate to smooth brained Sora a lot, vaguely I get what's going on but I don't give too many shits. Yeah the start of the key blade war was a mess but my little gay ass cried at every XIII trio and co moment. That ending CG cutscenes was too short but I could easily wax on about how these characters have constantly sacrificed and gone through tragedy often in the name of each other and the hope that those in front of them could move forward. The prequel trio went through tragedy, the main trio constantly just out of reach from each other, the XIII trio stuck in an amnesiatic limbo and so forth. The fact most of them got to literally do fun kind shit together was a nice miracle.

Also bawled at the union cross cameos even though I barely played it. I love tragedy and I did earlier this weekend stop to let my avatar cry scared at their own death in the middle of war so the idea that maybe some actual users got to see their names on screen attacking the enemies but hard. Even though I haven't played the series, it's a permanent part of my life just from the cultural zeitgeist it caused in my adolescence. I wish they gave it more impact if anything but I get it, it wasn't something everyone was for.

Obviously though the biggest issue is Kairi per usual. Utada's song are sort of like a thematic tone to each chapter in the series with a theory that Kairi's designs being inspired from Utada's image at each point. Chikai is not just a love song but a wedding song, the progression from an immature and insecure relationship in the first one to one stubbornly proclaiming it's now or never with your devotion to me. It's a song meant to stand at the end of everything, it's someone waiting for you to meet them in the distance. I remember desperately trying to avoid spoilers for these past four years but being suggested from what I couldn't avoid that Kairi had proposed marriage to Sora at the end. It's also usually Kairi who gets a lot of attention in the CG openings and endings. The natural idea of this all is that it's sealing the idea of Sora and Kairi recognizing each other as a couple and potentially a maturing relationship from when they were children even though like, I don't even think two years have passed in world??? Either way she gets worse than nerfed at the end. You don't get to play as her, she doesn't get to do A N Y T H I N G aside from being said to still believe in Sora and be his emotional angst. And then she is kidnapped and killed. The worst is it failed to make it matter to me. The are a lot of reasons why everything with Kairi just did not hit any emotional level whatsoever as a Kairi stan. Riku had more romantic tension with himself on the beach honestly. And yes, I acknowledge there was literally a gay rainbow bonded key blade. I didn't really ever ship anything with kingdom hearts but I now believe in Sora and Riku I guess. Also the old dudes probably making out. Yeah, wasn't even pissed at that anticlimactic heel turn with the big baddie. Side note, buying the game was 100% worth it to have the immersive experience of Goofy and Donald call out for my from the controller. A+. Just, man, Kairi was more blank than wood this game despite them trying to say she was important. I think for a series so central on the bond of it's trios, keeping her out of the main fights was such a bummer.

Also I am not paying $30 for the dlc when I have already given the game $70+ of my money. I will absolutely watch a video of that instead.

Either way I'm happy I can finally watch videos that sat in my YouTube watch later since 2019 and I happily look forward to KH4. Bitches who know me know I'm a sucker for Shibuya and honestly I should have bought the world ends with us in the ds when i had the chance. Might come on my lists because street style is so big in that game.

With that one of the two most intensive games on this list can be crossed off. The other being GTA 5 but I also don't really plan to jump on that anytime soon. More concerned with playing the Kinect games on my 360 lmao.

#kingdom hearts 3 #tomyo's backlog adventure #backlog

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supernovafics · 3 years ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change.

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

#dylan o’brien #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brien x fem!reader #dylan o'brien gifs

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nagdabbit · 3 years ago

Text

MY GIRLFRIEND'S COMMENTARY WHILE WATCHING HER FIRST AEW PPV

"my entire fitness goal is hook's shoulder-waist ratio, but with taz's extremely dense neck."

"the funniest thing about wrestling is that this fucking company is trying to make something called a stadium stampede sound both cool, AND serious."

gf: "if you cry listening to a crowd sing judas again, im divorcing you." me: "so that means youre gonna marry me." gf: "i've been bamboozled."

about brian cage: "this man is a huge dork. like, literally, i could fit me in him."

"i dunno what it is, but i would die to protect mr. hangman. he hunk, but he also baby."

thoughtfully, "i bet i could just catch you out of the air like that. i mean, i can squat you, i could probably even curl you like that, too."

because she is deeply in wrestling twitter now: "HOOK! babe, look, its hook! hook hive, rise up!"

"what i love about this feud is that all these men are fuckin' idiots. no brain cells, just shoes and fwiendship."

"what do you mean their tag team isn't just the wild boys, wtf? missed opportunity."

"those kicks are ugly, but i would steal them, too, honestly." *thirty seconds of silence layer* "for you, babe. i'd steal them for you, i mean."

"jon, no, the germs, jon, jesus christ, please dont drink that jon you dumbass."

"i love eddie, but i'm pretty sure we should never hang out. too much extremely new york energy, we would get arrested in like ten minutes. possibly less."

"diorsday device is the funniest shit ive ever fucking heard, how goddamn sad is that."

"max caster is gonna get murdered, but i love him."

"i wish bowens and his extremely attractive boyfriend the best in life."

"colt cabana and tay conti are tied for best smile in wrestling, but tay wins because i dont want colt to kick me in the face."

"penta is the only joker i formally recognize."

"today i found out that some people don't like stu and uno, and to them i say get entirely fucked."

after rush came out and i lost my entire shit: "i don't fully understand yet, but i support you." *one minute later* "oooooooooooohh. okay, yeah."

gf: "i enjoy that cody is pushing ogogo by being a dumb bitch with this america schtick." me: "you gonna say that when cody wins?" gf: "...fuck."

"ogogo got that guy ritchie movie ass music you love to see it."

"you were right about cody and i fuckin' hate it."

"aw yeah, its big boi season."

about miro: "i'm very gay, but the thing is, men with extremely jacked traps just do something to me."

"lance changed changed the color of his extensions and i appreciate that." *thirty seconds later* "are those... three crosses? tattooed on his back? jesus doesnt like murder, i don't think he likes murderhawks, either."

"britt baker is the only dentist i want in my mouth. no, wait, don't type that one!"

"oh, fuck, shidas getting teary i'm gonna fuckin cry, oh fuck, i get it now, i'm so sorry i made fun of you, i love her."

"oh fuck, shida knee me directly in the face."

"britt scares me. like the blood drip details on her gear are really cool, but i would legit believe its real blood from her."

"are you really crying about britt and the nice announcer man hugging?"

"hey, quick question, just real quick while ive got you here... why is the emo twink... like this?"

"darby's dad looks like my dad, and i'll never be okay with that."

"i like that darby just yeets himself around like that. he came in like a wrecking ball. a tiny, tiny wrecking ball."

"sting just tossing his son around the ring like that is very good, but, sir, that's bad parenting."

"the thing about sky and page is that these are the suburb guys i beat up at the beach on summer vacation. they have big "i robbed these guys at the pier" energy."

"damn, darby just feels his emotion with his entire face, doesnt he."

"okay explain the gambling thing and WHY it's a thing."

"orange rolling into the ring is so fucking good, that man is national treasure."

after me showing her the video of younger orange cassidy shitfaced and holding a fish for no reason: "i am shocked and appalled that you're only showing me this now."

after explaining the history of the jansport: "the range of this dumbass."

"i get that kenny is good and all, but his hair really fucks me up. it's upsettingly bad and i hope he knows that."

"pac is just. so much muscle. flippy beef man. a meateor." she did specify how to spell it for the joke because it was important.

"that man is a weeb, isnt he."

"something about a man breaking a hold by putting his hands in his pockets really gets me hype."

"fuck just murder omega and be done i hate this, put it on the beef man or the juicey boy already."

"babe, ill be right back i gotta murder this callis bitch."

screaming, "THAT'S MY FAVORITE REF, YOU UGLY FUCK!"

after kenny won: "i fucking hate wrestling, this is bullshit."

"holy fuck, babe, i forgot mark henry was a wrestle boy! i know him from the olympics!"

"hey, is mark henry bigger than large paul?"

"mjf is a dumb bitch and i love him."

"hey, quick question, who thought repelling down the stadium would look cool, they're so far away."

"there's wardlow, my sweet boy. this is cool now."

she laughed for a solid two minutes at tony schiavone saying, "here comes the little guy."

"i fuckin hate hager. kill him wardlow, kill that crispy maga ass bitch."

"okay what's with the chairs." *after a brief explanation of the chairshot heard round the world* "and, like, he can't just pick a new gimmick? it's been two years, bro. move on, shes not coming back."

"okay, i admit that this is great and i love it, kill that old man on the dancefloor."

upon learning this is technically the main event: "you mean it's over after this? theyre ending the show on THIS? not the triple threat match, this?"

"i just noticed mjf's bedazzled jeans, i'm not angry anymore, this is perfect."

"no, more wardlow. gimme the beef."

"christ, sammy guevara is kinda incredible and i'm fuckin angry about it. why cant inner circle be just sammy and santana and ortiz, fuck the other two."

"no, shut up! i refuse to sing along to this! whats wrong with you?! this is a bad song!"

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sundaysundaes · 4 years ago

Text

Remember Me

Mark Lee X Reader X Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) | Smut, Fluff, Angst | 14k | Soulmate AU, Friends-to-Lovers AU

CHAPTER 2 OF 2. Part 1 is here.

Summary: “The mysterious cuts and bruises that suddenly appear are actually injuries that your soulmate has obtained, and you share the same marks on your skin.” For Donghyuck and Mark, it's not just an old saying, it's not merely a concept, it's the truth. But as they grow older in a world where everyone puts their faith in the marks that attach their hearts to their soulmates, they have to stop believing.

Notes: This used to be an EXO Fanfic of mine called Remember Me but I want to share this story with my NCT family as well, so I rewrote several things and added more scenes to fit Mark and Haechan’s personalities better.

It takes Lee Donghyuck approximately ten times to ask Mark Lee to join their soccer game before he realizes that maybe Mark just really hates playing soccer. Or just doing sports in general, for that matter.

“I’ve told you, I don’t want to!” Mark shouts, cheeks reddening in anger. Donghyuck holds up both hands in the air, backing away. Mark is twenty-one years-old while Donghyuck is a year younger. Since Mark needed to be treated at the facility for his injuries back when he was in high school, he had to repeat another year and so he registered late in his new university in Seoul. Seeing how he’s a freshman like him with no friend other than Zhong Chenle in college, Donghyuck thinks they should get along better. Donghyuck has always been friendly and nice to anyone around him—Yukhei would agree on this straight away—but sadly, not everyone replies to him in the same way.

“Okay, okay,” Donghyuck says, laughing softly at Mark’s little burst of anger. “Chill, man. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought that maybe you wanted to play because, you know, you kept looking at us—”

“I wasn’t looking,” Mark harshly responds, tearing his gaze away from the other boy to glance at the girl who owns his heart since forever. “Well, I wasn’t actually looking at you anyway.”

Donghyuck furrows his brows at Mark’s last line that’s almost too quiet to hear. He’s pretty sure that Mark kept stealing glances at the field a moment earlier, so if it weren’t because of Donghyuck and Yukhei playing soccer with their upperclassmen, who was he staring at?

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck says anyway, and he means it even when his tone sounds too playful. “Well, if you ever change your mind, you can just come over, okay?”

“I don’t do soccer,” Mark bitterly responds as he picks up his book back and places it on his lap. “Now can you leave me alone, please? I want to read in silence.”

Donghyuck scrunches up his nose at his attitude but decides to be the better man. “Alright,” he says, giving him the space he needs. “My name’s Lee Donghyuck, by the way. Nice to meet you, Grumpy Pants!” he exclaims with a cheeky grin before he runs back to the field. Mark Lee is unapproachable, but that only makes him more interesting to Lee Donghyuck.

***

It takes eleven minutes after the whistle has been blown for Donghyuck to score his third goal that day and she cheers loudly with her hands in the air before she realizes that she’s supposed to stare at her crush secretly. She clears her throat and tries to calm her racing heart as she sits back on the bleachers. Her eyes are still following the boy with the number 66 on the back of his jersey and her heart warms when she sees how his fluffy brown hair flutters under the wind.

That boy’s name is Lee Donghyuck. He’s one year younger than she is and he’s probably the brightest, and the funniest person she has ever met. He’s a bit weird, though, because every time he talks to her, he always speaks like he has known her for his whole life. And he does look familiar somehow, but she can’t remember why.

Last spring was the first time she met him. She was looking around the campus’ ground, getting to know the environment better before she enrolled in the university by the next semester. And then a ball hit her on the head, making her tumble to the ground.

“Oh, shit! Sorry! Are you okay?” A boy ran to her with a familiar smile and beautiful sun-kissed skin that glistened slightly with sweat. He helped her stand on her own feet and kept apologizing for two times more until he saw her face and began to shout her name over and over again, voice getting louder each time.

“Holy shit, it’s really you! I can’t believe this!” Without permission, he suddenly leaned in and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet as he laughed wholeheartedly. “Jesus Christ, Noona, it’s been years!” He was crushing her with his hug and she felt strange, afraid even. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you again! I’ve been looking for you every—”

Out of fear and discomfort, she hastily pushed him away. “D-don’t touch me!” she said, backing away and a wounded look fell upon his face.

“N-noona, it’s me,” he said, attempting to calm her down by reaching out a hand. “It’s me, Donghyuck. We used to play together, remember? At the beach? In Jeju?”

Frowning was her response and nothing more, not remembering his identity at all and that made her sad because that boy seemed like he was really hoping for her to remember him. “I’m—I’m sorry but I don’t know you,” she said and the boy seemed heartbroken for a few seconds before he shook his head and smiled brightly once more.

“Oh wow, then this must’ve been super awkward.” He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head before he offered her his hand. She could tell he was shaken up by it but he didn’t make it seem obvious. “I’m Lee Donghyuck. I’m sorry for being so weird. You just remind me so much of my old friend. But I got your name right, didn’t I?”

She nodded her head once, shaking his hand. “How do you know my name?”

“Let’s just say I’m a bit psychic,” Donghyuck replied, grinning boyishly and something stirred in her heart. She felt like she knew him but at the same time, she didn’t. It was weird but Donghyuck never worried about such a matter. He kept on talking to her, sporting his cheery grins and beautiful eye-smile as he did and his presence somehow filled the pang that had been so hollow in her heart.

“Yo, Sleepyhead!” Wong Yukhei calls as he scurries over to her side. He’s breathing hard, beads of sweat forming and rolling down his temple. The man is 183cm tall with silky dark brown hair and a voice deeper than any man she’s ever known. “What’cha doin’, girl? Been here long?”

“Hey, Yukhei,” she greets with a smile, offering him her canned orange juice and Yukhei drinks it in one gulp without hesitation. “Just hanging out. Did you guys win?” she asks, trying to pretend like she wasn’t paying attention to the game (which is somewhat true because she only paid attention to Donghyuck).

“Oh, come on, we all know you were watching the game,” Yukhei says as he flops down next to her seat. “Or were you watching me?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Wong Yukhei is always blatant with his flirting but nobody ever takes him seriously. It’s common knowledge that Yukhei never wants to have a relationship with anyone other than his Soulmate. People tend to date anyone they want while they wait for their Soulmates to appear but Yukhei is a different case. Yukhei only wants the girl who owns the same scar as he has on his wrist.

“Hey, just a friendly advice here,” Yukhei says, “I know you really really really like Hyuck but fucking hell, woman, do you really need to stare at him all day long with that dopey, lovesick look on your face?”

“Hey!” She hisses, slapping his back. “Shut up, okay? And I wasn’t staring at him. I was watching the game.”

“Sureeee,” Yukhei slurs the last syllable. “Then what’s the score? No peeking at the scoreboard.”

She can’t answer. Seeing how Yukhei keeps on mocking her, she eventually sighs and buries her face in her hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“So obvious. Too obvious, even.”

“Do you think he knows?”

“Honey, I think even my grandma knows you have a crush on him.”

“Oh my God,” she sobs to her hands and when she lifts her face, her cheeks are in flame. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I can’t date him anyway, Not until I’m sure that he’s my Soulmate.”

Yukhei furrows his brows. “I didn’t know you were like me.”

“I just think it’s a safer option, you know?” She utters, huffing to the air. “Why would you waste your time dating someone who’s not your Soulmate when you know it’s not gonna work out in the end? Better choose the one so you won’t hurt anyone.”

Yukhei nods proudly and pats her head. “I feel you, Sister. I feel you.”

“Shut up, you’re gross,” she says, punching Yukhei playfully by his shoulder but the said man groans loudly and dramatically acts like she just struck his arm with a javelin. Yukhei stands up and barks, “Sure, when it’s Wong Yukhei, you go around and punch him like a sag of potatoes but when it’s Lee Donghyuck, you worship him like a freaking Greek God! Real fair, Sweetheart, real fair!” Then he throws a flying kiss toward her direction before she has the chance to actually kill Wong Yukhei. She just hopes that Donghyuck didn’t hear him.

She sits back on the bleachers, her heart thumping loudly but Donghyuck never stares back. He’s always like that when he’s too focused on his game. It’s part of his charm, really.

It’s only Mark Lee who does, staring at her from across the field. He’s a fellow freshman she once met at the library, helping her with finding her books. She always thinks he looks kind of familiar as well but she doesn’t know why. Perhaps some kind of a déjà vu?

She didn’t see him sitting there before (her eyes were too focused on Donghyuck, like always) and Mark never really goes out of his class at break times anyway. He used to always spend his days in the library, working there and reading suspense or science-fiction novels even when he’s read them a thousand times already. This is the first time she’s ever seen him out on the field. Perhaps he’s watching the game too?

She smiles and waves her hand at him. “Hey, library guy!” she mouths, grinning but Mark never mirrors her smile in the same way. He always seems sad, she notices, like he’s trying to achieve something but something forbids him from doing so. She wonders what he craves so badly that he has to force himself away from enjoying his life like he’s supposed to.

***

It’s twelve past twelve on a Sunday afternoon when Zhong Chenle passes a watermelon to Mark’s lap and speaks, “Bro, I know it’s not my business but your ex-girlfriend has a huge crush on that kid Lee Donghyuck.”

With a knife in his hand, ready to slice the watermelon into small pieces, Mark freezes and looks at Chenle with heavy pressure in his eyes.

“Whoa, dude!” Chenle immediately backs away, gulping when he realizes he just made Mark upset when the man is holding a knife in his hand. “Be careful with that shit, okay? You look like you’re about to kill someone!”

“Not someone, just you,” Mark replies, looking away and begins to slice the fruit.

Chenle takes his seat back with more caution in his steps, just in case. “Look, Mark, I don’t want to make you mad.”

“A bit too late for that,” Mark replies, jabbing the knife into the fruit, and Chenle almost shrieks, fidgeting on his seat. The Chinese boy winces a little as he prepares to receive a strike from his friend but it never came. Instead, his friend throws him a small smile and Chenle knows Mark’s been kidding around. Chenle can never understand his sense of humor.

“You have a terrible sense of humor, has anyone ever told you that?” He calms his heart down. “You’re still not over her, huh?” Chenle asks, receiving a freshly cut watermelon from the slightly shorter guy. Mark doesn’t answer him and instead, he grabs his own piece of watermelon and strolls over to lounge on the couch. The sun is blazing outside, sitting on its throne, and burns everything considering it’s the middle of summer and even with this thin layer of clothes he’s wearing, Mark just can’t stop sweating.

“Dude?” Chenle calls, following him to the couch, and steals a glance at him. Mark is just there, sitting and staring at the fruit without doing anything much other than breathing. “Hello? Earth to Mark, you alright there, buddy?”

Mark slowly moves his gaze back at him and for the first time in forever, he pulls on a gentle, but heartbreaking smile. “I would’ve gotten over her if I could but it’s hard.”

Chenle hums quietly. “You guys loved each other that much, huh?”

“Loved?” Mark chuckles, proffering his piece of watermelon to his friend’s hand in case Chenle wants more. He does. “It wasn’t just love. She was my everything.” The Chinese boy snorts at that but he can actually sense the truth behind Mark’s words, which is why Chenle chooses to stay mute. “I was about to propose to her, you know?” Mark confesses, crestfallen. “We were nothing but stupid brats going on about love and crappy things like that and I had this stupid ring with me that I wanted to give her. I was about to make a promise to be with her forever. I didn’t care whether she was my Soulmate or not. I didn’t care if we were too young to be engaged. I just loved her so much—I still do but…”

But she forgot about you, Chenle wants to say but he decides to keep himself in silence. While Mark was hurting physically during that period after the accident, she was losing her mind. She had recurring nightmares and she lost almost every part of her memories. She lost her childhood, she lost her friends, and most of all, she lost him. She couldn’t see Mark. He never existed in her world. Her loss of memories had helped her to recover quicker than him and her parents also made her go to many therapy sessions in her last few months at the hospital. She’s now healthy and happy and Mark is grateful for that but, of course, a huge part of him died with her that night before the first snow fell upon their smiles.

Chenle forms a question after a while. “Why don’t you try and approach her again, then? You know, start over. Maybe she could fall in love with you again.”

Mark absentmindedly touches the skin around his nape. “It’s better this way,” he says, smiling weakly to the ground. “She’s happier without me in her life.”

“But you’re hurting,” Chenle counters. “And I’m not sure you’re gonna get better tomorrow if you keep being like this.”

“You’re right, I’m never gonna get better.” Mark laughs softly. “I’m gonna remember this forever and I’m gonna live through this every day. When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I remember is how I agreed to go with her to town that night. If I hadn’t gone to her grandmother’s place, if I hadn’t gone with her outside—”

Chenle shakes his head. “You didn’t know what would happen—”

“It doesn’t matter!” Mark shouts breathlessly, his hand going over his heart. “It happened and I lost her. That’s it, Chenle. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Chenle looks conflicted and hesitant for a few seconds before he reaches out and pats Mark on the shoulder. “Everything will get better,” he says, trying to spread joy to his friend. “You’ll forget her when you meet your Soulmate. Try to live your life like me, buddy. No good will come from worrying over things that have been done.”

Mark returns his smile but his eyes stay cold.

His dreams always consist of her smile and how her eyes once turned crescents when she whispered, “I love you too, Mark Lee.” His dreams always reel in the way she held him close that night, how she wanted to make him feel happy, how she wanted to be with him, how much she missed and loved him.

It never happens in real life anymore. Mark Lee never existed in her life that way. And that is why Mark stops waking up with a smile on his face.

“Chenle,” Mark starts, “Are you friends with that guy?”

“Who, Donghyuck? Yeah, he’s cool. Gets pretty whiny and annoying most of the times, but—”

“There’s something I want you to tell him.”

“O… kay…” Chenle is startled by the sudden gravitas in his tone. “What is it?”

“She believes in Soulmates,” Mark says, smiling to himself and somehow Chenle can see the disappointment and frustration in his eyes. “She has a scar on the back of her neck. So if he doesn’t have the same scar, it’s better for him to just stay away since he’ll end up hurting them both in the future.”

Chenle analyzes his friend’s expression but he’s still left clueless. “And you’re okay if he turns out to be the one for her?”

Mark glances at him, smiling while his eyes show nothing but a pang of guilt and pain. “At this point, Chenle,” he murmurs, “I actually wish for it to happen.”

***

“So she believes in Soulmates too, huh?” Donghyuck asks, his shoulders are slumped forward in disappointment. It’s Friday the 13th and while everyone is feeling spooked out over the infamous urban legend, Donghyuck is feeling upset over an entirely different reason. “Damn it!”

Yukhei snorts. “Dude, everyone believes in Soulmates; it’s only you who don’t. It’s basically, like, written in the law or something.” When Donghyuck shoots him a look, Yukhei just huffs. “All I’m saying is it’s not just a myth, dude. This shit happens.”

Donghyuck knows that but he’s really interested in her—well, he’s always been interested in her, since back then when they were young even. Donghyuck didn’t think he’d be able to meet her again but well, luck is apparently on his side. Not that much, though, because she forgot about what they used to have. Donghyuck learned along the way that she’d gotten into an accident in high school and that was how she lost her memories. He understands the situation and he’s willing to restart everything again because even after all this time, Donghyuck still likes her. And for these past few months, Donghyuck has become so close to her once again and it’s like they’re back to that time where they used to play together on the beach with sands under their feet. She still smiles and gazes at him in the way she did back then and Donghyuck thinks her beauty lasts for eternity.

She even said one time, as he was trying to catch his breath after his soccer practice, that he reminded her of the sun, the way he shone so brightly when he played on the field, how his every movement and smile drew attention from the crowd.

“You should be called Haechan,” she said sheepishly, bumping her shoulder against his in a playful manner. “I think it fits you more. What do you think?”

His heart was racing for an entirely different reason. He couldn’t believe that even when she had lost her memories, she still repeated the same thing in the exact same way. So Donghyuck swallowed hard, trying his best to appear nonchalant, and said, “I think that’s the stupidest pet name someone has ever given to me, but it’s okay. You can call me that.”

It would be great if they could be something more. But well, if she believes in Soulmate and if Donghyuck turns out to not be the one she’s waiting for then they probably shouldn’t start anything to begin with.

“This whole Soulmate thing sucks balls!” Donghyuck whines, kicking a pebble stone to the side of the street as he walks next to his tall friend on the sidewalk. “I really want to try and be with her, you know? I didn’t try anything back then because we were too young to understand our feelings but now we’re older and I really, really like her but God-fucking-dammit, Yukhei, what if I’m not her Soulmate? What if she won’t accept me?”

Yukhei pats his friend on the back. “Well, you still have your chance, Hyuck. Maybe someday, she’ll fall and bruise her knees or something and you’ll get the same scar—her scar. Who knows, right? Maybe you are her Soulmate.”

Donghyuck doesn’t put a lot of wish on that. He’s never much of a believer anyway. “She doesn’t seem to have scars now, though,” he says, “So how can we tell who her Soulmate is?”

“But you don’t have scars too, do you?”

“Actually, I—”

“Donghyuck-Hyung!” A skinny boy with fluffy blond hair, calls from somewhere behind him. Donghyuck turns around and grins when he sees the boy approaching him. “Hey, asswipe! What’s up?”

“I told you not to call me that.” But Chenle reciprocated by giving him his personal high five. After a quick chatter, Chenle drops his smile and displays a solemn look on his face. “Hyung, there’s something I need to tell you.”

***

It’s on the next day, June 14th, when Donghyuck literally steals Yukhei’s key (he thinks Yukhei wouldn’t mind anyway) and drives his motorcycle for less than a mile, heading south. Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. Since he heard what Chenle told him yesterday, Donghyuck has been so anxious. He needs to see her now and he needs to see her fast.

That afternoon isn’t actually chilly, but Donghyuck brings his black leather jacket with him—just for luck. He wears a thin white shirt underneath it and a black full covered helmet on his head. He’s brought another helmet with him, not caring about the possibility of her rejecting his proposal of an impromptu date. Donghyuck has always been that confident.

Getting the address of her house isn’t actually easy, but it’s not the hardest question in the world either. When he stops in front of her house, his wristwatch says it’s 02.14 p.m. He still has enough time to go watch a movie with her and have dinner together—if she agrees to go on a date with him in the first place.

Jumping out from his—or rather, Yukhei’s—motorcycle, Donghyuck takes off his helmet and ruffles his short hair, pushing back his fringe with his lean fingers. He doesn’t say it often but he thinks he looks a bit hotter when his forehead shows and if he’s going to charm this girl off her feet, he needs all the luck he can get. And that is why he’s putting his RayBan sunglasses on too.

He picks up his phone and dials her numbers. She answers on the second ring and it’s cute that her “Hello?” sounds more like a panic shout rather than a friendly greeting. “Hey, baby,” Donghyuck jokes with a grin, but it makes her gasp. He hears her stutter out his name in return. “Can you go out to your balcony for me?”

“W-why?” she asks, a bit breathlessly for some reason. Donghyuck secretly hopes his voice is the reason behind it. He likes to think he has that effect on her, because sometimes, when she wears her floral blue shirt combined with her white skirt, she has that same effect on him as well. That feeling of needing to breathe when you’re already breathing. It’s weird but he likes it.

“Just do it, please?” he begs, even displaying his puppy eyes though he knows she won’t be able to see them.

“Umm... O-okay then…”

A moment later, she appears on her veranda, wearing a short, casual navy blue summer dress with a white collar that looks like a sailor’s. Her hair is untied, flowing over her shoulders and Donghyuck can already tell that she’s about to tuck some strands of her hair behind her ears. He always loves it when she does that. He’ll love it even more if one day she gives him the chance to do it for her.

“Umm, I’m already out,” she nervously mumbles out, pushing her locks to the back of her ear. Her phone is strapped to her ear and she examines her surrounding until her eyes land on the man who’s leaning on a (stolen) bike.

“Hey,” Donghyuck smiles that one smile he knows could drive women crazy. He adds this thing with his eyebrows just in case she’s not affected by his smirk. “So, I woke up this morning and I thought of you. Wanna go out on a date with me?”

She gapes, her cellphone almost slides down from her hand. “I-I’m—” Even Donghyuck can see her blush from under there. “Donghyuck-ah, I—”

“How many times should I tell you?” Donghyuck sighs, playfully sending her a glare. “Just call me by that name you gave me.”

“D-didn’t you say it was stupid?”

“It’s stupid because it makes me feel special.” And he doesn’t lie, not in the slightest. “You make me feel special.”

Her face burns even more. “Look, I don’t think I can go—” She takes a look behind her, worriedly glancing to her room. “I’m supposed to stay in my room and—”

“Have you ever broken any rules before?” Donghyuck asks and if she hadn’t lost her memories, she’d say yes and tell him that that’s the exact reason why she got into that accident. But this new version of her only gnawed at her lip worriedly. “Come on, Noona. You don’t need to tell your parents.” He’s extremely persuasive, especially with that signature eyebrow-raise of his with his eyes twinkling mischievously after he took off his sunglasses. “Just come with me. I’ll take you back home before they even know you’re gone.”

It’s tempting. Donghyuck’s offers are always tempting and he looks really good in that leather jacket while sporting his messy pushed-back hair. She once thought Donghyuck looked the best wearing his soccer jersey on the field because he appeared so young and boyish that way. But this. This exact style. He reeks of masculinity and pure sex—

“Are you coming?” Donghyuck snaps her away from her reverie. She continues nibbling on her lip in anxiety, looking back again before she glances at the boy once more. “Okay, yes,” she finally says and Donghyuck tries not to jump and stab the air in victory. “I can’t go down from the stairs, though. My father’s in the living room.”

“Well then, jump,” he simply says, walking closer until he stands just below her balcony and tries to be as quiet as possible as he strolls through the bushes. “Come on, Noona. Jump. I’ll catch you.”

“T-there’s no way I can do that!” Her cheeks spark bright red. “I’m wearing a dress!”

“Well then, I’ll close my eyes.” He spreads his arms wide to catch her and simply closes his eyes like he said. “See?”

“How are you planning to catch me when you can’t even see me?!” She protests and Donghyuck wants to laugh because her shrieking voice is so pleasantly cute.

“Hey,” Donghyuck says, opening his eyes again just to gaze straight into her eyes. “I won’t let you fall. I promise. Don’t you trust me?”

Something in the tone he uses lights a spark in her chest. “O-of course.”

“Then trust me.” Donghyuck smiles again and shuts his eyes closed. “Now jump.”

She still hesitates, thinking this over and over again with her hand pressed nervously against her chest. Finally, she decides to just get this over with. “I’m—I’m a bit heavy, though.”

“You’re not heavy, you’re pretty,” Donghyuck smoothly says and on any other occasion, she would have laughed because that’s probably the worst line to say at the moment. “Now come on. Jump.”

“But Haechannie—”

“Jump!”

And she does. With a rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins, she jumps in her sailor dress with only her phone being held in her hand. She’s about to yelp but the fall is too fast that it ends before she can scream. True enough, Donghyuck manages to catch her with his arms and she falls with a small ‘oof’ to his chest.

“Hello Kitty panties?” Donghyuck teases, his spine being pressed against the ground and although it does hurt a little, everything is worth it since she is now lying on top of him. “Really, darling?”

She gapes, blushing madly, and lands a small slap on his chest to cover her embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t look!” She makes too much rustling noises over the fuss, while Donghyuck tries to contain his laughter. He would’ve let her hit him again if he didn’t hear someone’s footsteps closing on them.

Her father is now walking through the front door.

Donghyuck does the most brilliant thing to do at the moment—according to him anyway—which is to roll to his side and hide both of their bodies behind the bushes. She ends up lying on the ground with Donghyuck’s body covering her. He holds her head close to his chest so she won’t knock herself on the ground. Her ear is pressed against his heart and she cannot focus when Donghyuck pulls her closer and warns her with a whisper, “Be quiet...”

Her father doesn’t take a detailed look around the place, probably wondering whether it was just the neighbor’s cat doing noisy things as always. He ends up leaving after picking up the newspaper that he forgets to retrieve in the morning.

When the sound of the front door being closed reaches their ears, they both let out a relieved sigh. “Holy shit, I thought I was about to die,” Donghyuck says, laughing when he sees her holding back her smile. “Your hair’s a mess.” He reaches out a hand and fixes her fringe and that’s when she realizes that she’s in such proximity to his face and she’s literally lying underneath him.

She immediately pulls away and stands up properly before she slightly bows with her face blazing hot. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you like that—”

“Hey, relax,” Donghyuck says, cleaning the dirt off his ripped jeans as he stands up as well. “It was my fault. And I was enjoying every second of it anyway so...” He grins that familiar boyish smile of his and although she pouts and pushes him playfully by the shoulder, inside her thumping heart, she feels alive.

“I can’t believe you saw my panties,” she mutters, fixing her hair as her cheeks continue to burn. “So embarrassing.”

“I think it’s cute.”

Her face is about to explode. “You promised you’d close your eyes!”

“I didn’t.” Donghyuck wiggles his eyebrow once in a teasing manner. “I only promised you I’d catch you. And I did, right? I didn’t let you fall.”

She looks away, trying her best to calm her racing heart. “Y-yes. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Now, come on,” Donghyuck says, taking her hand without permission (not that she’d mind) and guides her to his—Yukhei’s—ride. “I’m thinking of relishing our childhood memories and—” he stops when he sees her frowning and he looks flustered because, “God, I’m so stupid. Of course you wouldn’t remember.” His voice is quiet before he gets a grip of himself and clears his throat. “What I want to say is, there are two choices you can choose: First, it’s a safe option where we go out to the movies, choose whatever it is that’s lame enough so you’ll get bored and start talking to me during the play—hey, stop laughing!” Donghyuck pokes her on the cheek when she giggles at his words. “And then we’ll get dinner afterward before I take you home. Or second, and this is the more daring one, we go to the nearest beach and see whatever the hell that’s going to happen there and just let God decides where we go next.” He gives her another spare of his helmet. “So what do you wanna do?”

She thinks about it for a few seconds, just to build the hype, before she says, “I’ll go with the second option.”

“Well, I am hurt,” Donghyuck mutters. “You just thought talking to me during the movie would be boring, didn’t you? You’ve underestimated my interpersonal skills, woman.”

“It’s not that,” she replies, grinning as she sits behind him and wraps her arms around his waist. “I’m just worried that you’re gonna order pizza for dinner and I don’t think that’s gonna be romantic.”

“Ah, so you want our situation to be romantic, do you?” Donghyuck teases, her plan backfires. “I knew you’ve always had the hots for me.”

Her jaw hangs low on her blushing face. “That’s not what I—” And her words end up with a scream when Donghyuck suddenly drives off. She winds her arms tighter around his waist and Donghyuck laughs because she’s adorable in the way he finds to be the cutest form possible.

To her, this is the first date she’s ever experienced. She has never been with anyone before him and she likes Donghyuck so much because he seems so carefree and fun, while on the other side, dangerous and unpredictable. He’s a bit four-dimensional and she wants to know what’s hidden more under those multilayer personalities of his. But what attracts her the most is how she feels familiar and safe in his presence. She feels like she can trust him as if she’s known him for her whole life.

Had the accident never happened, she would’ve noticed how different Donghyuck is if being compared with her past boyfriend, Mark Lee. While Donghyuck is impulsive and daring, Mark has always been the cautious one. Mark is the guy who pays attention to every little thing that happens to her—even when she doesn’t realize it herself. While Donghyuck, on the other hand, is that person who desires simplicity. The boy who says, “I want you” instead of “I need you”. And that’s entirely different than how Mark, the boy who offers commitment and loyalty, had promised her once.

But memory is just a memory. Donghyuck used to live in the shadows of her mind, but now he’s alive and there’s no way he’s going to let her go for the second time.

It’s time for Mark to stay in the darkness and just let go of what he used to have.

This time, the table has turned.

***

Mark Lee sighs for the fifteenth time that day because his mother keeps on pestering him to go back to his daily therapy session but he’s not having any of it. Not today. He’s already tired of having to go to the doctor every day only to hear the line, “There hasn’t been many changes but don’t worry, we’ll get you better soon, Mark,” or maybe in some better days like yesterday, he got a “Good news, Mark! We can start the surgery by the end of the week! That is, of course, if you’re willing to follow the procedures and healthy enough to undergo the surgery.”

Mark is scared to his bones but he doesn’t tell anyone that. Being consumed with fear isn’t something he wants to be proud of and he knows that it won’t do anything other than making people worry about him more. He’s had enough of that. So he just smiles and tries to get better for his mother.

Not today, though. Today, he needs to let go.

This is why tonight, he puts on his sweater and strolls out of his house without telling anyone. He rarely breaks any rules but today, he just wants to get out and breathe the outside air as much as he wants to. He takes a deep breath and with trembles in his fingers, he reaches out for his brother’s bicycle. The memory of the accident is still clear in his head but he’s already promised himself he’d move on. And this is him, moving on.

He rides the bicycle slowly, still remembering to take care of his condition. He keeps pedaling until he reaches her new address. They used to live next to each other, but after the accident that happened with Mark, her family thought that it’d be better if they stay as far as possible from each other. But here he is now, standing in front of her gate with an anxious heart and shaky fingers, just like how it was when he picked her up for their first date.

Mark weakly smiles to himself. “Just say your goodbye and leave, Mark. Just do that and move on.”

He presses the doorbell and waits.

A moment later, she comes out wearing a knitted sweater Mark once gave her for their second anniversary and that sight of her made him feel like the earth is sinking below him. Why is she wearing that? He screams in his mind, as his eyes grow wide. As far as Mark knew, her parents tried to keep every little bit of Mark away from her, to keep her safe just in case it’d bring something painful to her shattered memories. Her mother probably mistook it for her own sweater and that was why she didn’t throw it away.

“I’ll call you later, okay, Haechannie?” she says, giggling to her cellphone as she walks toward the fence that separates her from him. “I know. Of course, I’ll brush my teeth. I’m not you.” She laughs quietly, muttering ‘one sec’ to Mark as she tries to drag open the gate. “Okay, hey, I really need to go. Someone’s here.”

Mark tries to stop the wounded look from appearing on his face. Someone, Mark thinks, smiling bitterly. She doesn’t even know my name.

“I’ll call you—” Then she laughs again, her cheeks getting red and Mark secretly hopes that it’s because of the cold, and not over Donghyuck’s words from the other side of the line. “Yes, okay, good night. I’ll see you later, Haechannie. Bye.” Then she shuts her phone and looks at Mark apologetically. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. My boyfriend just kept on babbling,” she explains, chuckling in embarrassment. “Hi, is there anything I can help you with?”

Her laughter still sounds as airy and adorable in his ears and Mark tries to erase the sickening feeling in his gut after knowing that he’s no longer the reason behind her laughter.

“Hi, uhh…” Mark rubs his nape, clearing his throat. “You probably don’t remember me, but umm—we’ve met at the library? I helped you with your books.”

She frowns for a few seconds before her eyes light up. “Ah!” She exclaims, smiling widely at him. “You’re the library guy! Hi, yes, of course, I remember you.”

Library guy. He can’t take it anymore. “It’s Mark,” he murmurs.

She blinks. “What?”

“My name,” he says, louder this time. His fingers are curling into fists on the sides of his jeans. “My name is Mark Lee.”

“Oh,” she says, throwing another heartwarming smile as she offers him her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mark Lee.” The way she says his name still feels natural to his ears, which only makes him suffer harder. She tells him her name, wanting to give him a firm handshake.

“I already know your name,” Mark says, and somehow his tone seems cold. She drops her hand with a surprised look on her face. Mark wonders whether she sees the dejected look he displays on his face because her smile vanishes completely and she seems utterly heartbroken. To her, Mark looks exactly like Donghyuck used to stare at her sometimes—that look when someone wishes to be remembered. She doesn’t know what happened in the past but she knows she’s hurting him somehow.

“I’m sorry,” she says, almost in a whisper. “I have… I have a bad memory so… If we’ve met before and I can’t remember you, I’m… I’m really sorry.”

Mark wants to slap himself on the face for being so selfish. He just hurt her again. She doesn’t even know him and he just hurt her again. “No, it’s not that,” Mark hurriedly explains with a reassuring smile. “I know you because I once saw you writing down your name when you borrowed the book. I work at the library, remember?”

She blinks twice before she lets out a relieved sigh. “Oh... Right…” she utters, smiling to herself. “Well, I… Thanks for helping me out back then.”

She looks just as beautiful as she used to when she snuggled up against him on the couch. Mark brings his hands into the pocket of his jeans so he won’t accidentally stroke her cheek or lace their fingers together. “No problem.”

“So, what’s up?” she chirps and Mark realizes he needs to find a better excuse than this is probably the last time I can see you and that’s why I want to say goodbye properly.

“It’s umm…” It’s painful for him having to lie straight to her face like this. He never once lied in front of her when they were together but now that they’re living separate lives with no connections to each other, it feels like that’s what he’s been doing all the time. Just lying, forcing himself to smile, distancing himself from everyone, and pushing himself to say her name effortlessly even when the pain in his chest is overwhelming. “Nothing important, really,” Mark says, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “I just came here to remind you that you need to return the book by tomorrow.”

“What? Oh!” She gasps, placing a hand over her mouth. “You’re right! Oh God, I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me.”

Mark only smiles back and his eyes are soft and gentle. “No problem. It’s my job anyway.”

She laughs a bit. “Such a hardworking young man. Next time you could just call me, you know? You don’t have to come over to my house. It’s freezing.” The way she talks is always fascinating to see and hear. Her smile never leaves her face and her hands are constantly moving animatedly every time she opens her mouth. Mark can actually feel his heart racing at the sight of her. “Oh, look at that.” She announces, glancing at Mark’s hands that are starting to go red from the cold. “You’re not wearing any gloves. Wait for a sec, will you? I’ll get you some!” And she hurries back into her house before he can stop her.

When she comes out a moment later, she carries a pair of her gloves (Mark remembers well the salmon pink color and the white stripes at the end of it) and her cheeks glow in a darker shade of red when she says, “These are mine but they’re a couple of sizes bigger on me so I hope they’ll fit.” She tucks his hands inside the gloves exactly like that time before Mark pushed her against the fence and poured his feelings against her lips. When she’s finished, she also asks, “There. Better?”

Mark can’t stop himself from feeling hurt. It’s like his heart is being ripped apart and he can’t do anything to prevent it. Before he knows it, his eyes grow hot and his vision starts to blur. He doesn’t let his tears fall though. He quickly covers it with a grateful smile. “Thank you,” he says and she smiles back, squeezing Mark’s hand in a friendly way before she lets go.

“You’re welcome,” she cheerfully says. “By the way, Happy Christmas Eve.”

Mark smiles while his heart is breaking. If he closes his eyes right now, will the earth swallow him whole?

“So, Mark Lee,” she begins, leaning her back to the fence. “Is there anything else you want to remind me of? Did I forget to pay for the book or something?”

There’s a lot of things he wants to remind her about. The warmth of his hand, the sound of his voice when he confessed to her, the taste of their first kiss, everything. But every little joyful memory he has of her will only inflict pain on her behalf so he holds himself back. Mark laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re okay,” he says, staring at her with a gentle smile constantly displayed on his lips.

After a while, she playfully raises an eyebrow in question. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

Mark doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, but at that moment, he reaches out his hand and pushes her bangs out of her eyes, just like how he used to do back then. She freezes on her feet, her eyes growing wide, her breathing stalls.

“I’m—” Mark splutters. “I’m sorry, I just—” He panics, his hand going over his chest, feeling his heart thumping fast and it begins to hurt—more than anything he can ever bear. “I’m so sorry.” And he turns around, carrying his bicycle with him before he pedals away through the night. His heart is screaming with more pain for the distance he puts between them.

She stands there on the ground with parted lips. Her eyes are fixed on Mark’s back as he drives away and then suddenly, a tear slips out from the corner of her eye.

“Oh…” She falls to her knees, hugging herself with her arms as she cries and cries and cries harder over something she doesn’t even know what. She just feels so hurt, as if something is tearing every bit of her heart apart. She covers her mouth as she sobs louder. Breathing becomes hard, just as hard as she tries to explain why is she feeling like this. Why does she feel like someone is leaving her? Someone very important, just like a piece of her soul. What is happening?

“Honey!” Her mother comes out with shock written on her face and cradles her into her arms. “Darling, what happened?”

But she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what to say. She just feels like dying. She just feels like she can’t breathe.

It’s as if a promise had just been broken and there’s nothing left of it to reminisce.

Mark stops and jumps off his bike the second he makes a turn a few meters away from her house. His hand is curling against the front of his shirt while the other one is holding him up from not lying flatly on the ground. He’s on his knees and he coughs to the cold night, gasping as if he was on the edge of losing his life. Her name is on the tip of his tongue and everything feels like knives, piercing through his skin.

He was so close. For a moment there, Mark saw her looking at him like she remembered him. She’s not supposed to remember him.

It hurts and Mark can’t fight his tears back anymore. He cries.

***

Donghyuck is staring at the latest episode of his favorite drama on channel 16 with drowsy, half-lidded eyes as he places his head on top of his girlfriend’s lap. They were in Donghyuck’s dorm room, specifically on his single-sized bed and she’s there, stroking his hair softly because Yukhei is out playing basketball with the new Chinese student and that means they can have quality time together.

Dating Donghyuck has been easy and she is enjoying every second of it. Donghyuck, that peculiar human being, likes to impersonate people as his daily jokes and it has become quite of a habit. From his usual Michael Jackson impersonation to something way more extreme such as creating new personas for himself.

It started a week ago when Donghyuck picked her up to campus wearing ripped, washed-out jeans, black boots, and a wifebeater underneath his black leather jacket. The weirdest thing was, he had a cigarette sticking on the side of his mouth but it wasn’t lit—Donghyuck never smoked anything in his entire life.

“’ Sup,” he said, lowering his voice to make it sound deeper after he spat to the ground in a manly way (based on his own opinion, of course).

“What on earth is happening to you?” She asked, staring at him bewilderedly from head-to-toe.

Donghyuck pretended to blow some smokes from his cigarette. “The hell are you talkin’ ‘bout, girl? I’m a gangster. This is what gangsters do. Now hop on my bike, you little shit.”

She just stared flatly at him. “I’m not gonna go anywhere with you talking to me like that.”

“But I’m a gangsta! Gangsters swear, sucker.”

“And you think swearing is attractive?”

Donghyuck snickered, breaking out of his character. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I’m just trying on something new,” he explained, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles once. “You look very pretty today. Now, will you please go with me? We’re going to be late.”

“And you look ridiculous.”

“I know,” he chuckled and then he began to get into character again. “But I’m serious. Get on my fucking bike, bitch.”

She sighed but rode away with him anyway.

On the next day, he dressed up in a pair of baggy pants, a shirt with the words “Nerds for life” written upon it, eyeglasses that were too big for his little face, and sneakers that were way too white and way too clean.

“Good afternoon, my fellow specimen!” He saluted, holding a Star Wars graphic novel in his hands as he sat beside his girlfriend on the bleachers. He was supposed to get ready for another soccer game that was going to start in another half an hour, but here he was, dressing like a dork and bugging her like always.

“Let me guess,” she sighed, rubbing her temple. “You’re a nerd.”

“A nerd, I am not,” he said, imitating Yoda from the Star Wars franchise. “But a beauty, yes you are.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous, I am not.”

“Will you stop it already?”

“Stop, I can not.”

“Shut up!” She was beginning to laugh when Donghyuck kept talking like that as he tried to kiss her. “No! Don’t kiss me! You’re gross!”

“I am Donghyuck Skywalker and you are my mate, Princess Leia!” He announced, suddenly standing on one of the seats and opened his arms widely above his head. “We shall roam the entire universe! Just us two, you and me, with your beauty shining brighter than the stars!” Then he jumped back down, placed his hands on his hips, and smirked as he spoke, “Now open up your hangar ‘cause my starfighter needs refueling—”

“HYUCK, OH MY GOD, JUST SHUT UP!”

That happened almost every day for at least an hour-long, but him dressing up like an idiot was enough to attract the entire campus and to make his girlfriend dying from either laughing too hard or drowning in secondhand embarrassment—the latter tends to happen more often. From being Hyuckcutio—the desperate lover from the medieval age (he wore a cape and had a rose between his teeth), Donghyucko Mucho—the Spanish guy who fell hard for his Rosalinda (he had a fake mustache on his face), to Donghyuck Dawson—the American dude whose heart still sailed for his Rose DeWitt Bukater even when the ship fucking sank.

She found him to be amusing and it was really entertaining watching him work hard to impress her. But if she had to choose, the moment she loved the most would be when Donghyuck dressed up in a plain white tee, washed-out jeans, and a smile that was bright enough to make other people look at him in a daze. His brown hair wasn’t styled in any way, and it looked so fluffy with bangs falling over his eyes.

He sat on the bleachers next to her and playfully bumped his shoulder against hers. “Hey, baby.”

His girlfriend smiled back, cheeks glowing in pink. “Who are you trying to be now?”

Donghyuck shrugs. “Myself.”

“Hmm…” She hummed before she kissed his cheek. “I think…” I like this one the most. “You look ridiculous.”

Donghyuck laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he ruffled her hair. “I know.”

“Something weird happened to me yesterday,” she confesses, playing idly with Donghyuck’s dark strands as she hangs around on his bed. Donghyuck’s head on her lap is a comforting weight she tends to miss when she’s alone in her room. “There’s this guy who came to my house late in the evening and he looked familiar but I can’t place who he was in my mind.”

Donghyuck turns around and looks up at her. “Maybe he’s an old friend?”

“Maybe,” she sighs. “He kept on staring at me and when I asked him why, he kind of brushed my hair and I just cried.”

Donghyuck raises his right eyebrow. “You cried?”

She nods, looking worried and dispirited so Donghyuck lifts his head off her lap and pats her head. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, giving her a playful smile. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“I don’t know what happened, it’s just—” She exhales heavily, lacing Donghyuck’s fingers with hers. “I suddenly felt so sad and there’s this pain aching in my chest. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Hey,” Donghyuck kisses her knuckles to soothe her down. “You’re okay. Nothing’s wrong with you. That guy was probably some sort of a voodoo believer or something and he tried to hypnotize you. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

She smiles, giving her boyfriend a flick on the nose. “Stupid. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sure, it does!” Donghyuck swiftly pulls her by the leg and she falls to the bed with a giggle on her lips. Donghyuck climbs up her body, kissing her cheek before he grins at her.

“What?” she asks, her eyes have that teasing twinkle in them. “You look like you’re about to kiss me.”

“No, I don’t.” Donghyuck snorts. “What, just because I’m lying on top of my girlfriend with my face being this close, you think I want to kiss you? Such confidence you have.”

She retaliates with a playful shove against his shoulders and Donghyuck laughs before he pins both of her hands to the bed. He leans close and kisses her lips, gentle like usual but also has that fiery spark behind it.

She tenderly smiles and lets him kiss her one more time before he sighs and trails his fingertips along the side of her face. “What now?” she asks, grinning teasingly.

Donghyuck’s playful smirk has vanished away from his face. “You know I love you, right?” he asks, his face serious as he traces her bottom lip with his thumb. This is actually the first time she hears him say those three words and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised.

She parts her lips to speak. “Why are you suddenly—”

“I just thought you should know,” Donghyuck says, his eyes are deep with sincerity and adoration. “I’ve actually been in love with you for a while. I guess I’ve even loved you from back when we were kids.” He chuckles quietly to himself when he sees her frowning. “You don’t remember anything, do you?” He twirls a strand of her hair around his finger. “Back then when I hit you with my ball and you just stared at me with that cute look on your face? You don’t remember that?”

“So that spring wasn’t the first time you hit my head with a ball?” she gives him a look and Donghyuck laughs before he kisses the corner of her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I guess I have the knack in running to damsels in distress and hitting them on the head with my ball.”

“Yeah, with you being the cause of their distress.”

Donghyuck pinches her cheek until she bursts out laughing. He rolls to his back and brings her forward to lie on top of him. She balances herself by putting her hands on his chest and Donghyuck tucks her hair behind her ear. “Do you love me?” he asks, quietly and she can see the insecurities in his eyes. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t but—”

“I do,” she hastily answers before he starts rambling nonsense. “Donghyuck you’re my Soulmate. Of course, I love you.” She bends her head down to kiss him deeply, tugging his lower lip with her teeth. “I do. I love you.”

Donghyuck groans lowly before he flips her back to her previous position, him hovering above her. He parts her lips with his and begins tasting every corner of her mouth, making her moan delicately against his warm lips. She cards her fingers through his hair before she rests her hand on his nape, touching the scar that has the exact same shape as hers.

A mark that indicates they’re both connected as Soulmates.

***

The clock indicates that it’s 05:17 p.m when his mother hugs him close to her chest. “You’ll be alright, Mark,” she whispers in his ear, her voice breaking. “I will just be right here and we’ll meet again in a few hours, okay?”

Mark Lee smiles brokenly to his family as he leans back on his wheelchair. His father pats him on his shoulder, “I’ll see you later, Son.”

His older brother gives him a familiar punch to his shoulder, teasing him although his concerned eyes betray him. “You’ll be okay, buddy. Think about it, we can play soccer again after this and I don’t have to hold back for your weak ass.” And Mark only chuckles softly before the doctor drags him away to the surgery room.

“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad,” Mark says, waving his hand and he can hear his own voice ready to shatter into pieces in the next seconds. “Bye, Hyung.”

And he dedicates his final farewell with a thought of her name.

“Everything will be fine, Mark,” the doctor says, eyes sparked with reassurance though his words mean nothing to Mark’s ears. The patient lies on his bed, taking a deep breath before the nurse injects a needle into his skin. “We’ll get you a new heart so you can ride your bike all day long again like you used to, okay?”

“Okay, Doc,” Mark simply responds, mirroring his smile that soon drops to the ground the second the older man glances away.

“Can you count to ten for me?”

The boy nods, beginning to count as the liquid runs through his veins, making him feel numb and sleepy.

“One.”

He remembers that one morning when he first realized he was in love. It was when she appeared in front of his room, breathless with a frantic look on her eyes, and screamed at him for not telling her that he was having a fever. She skipped school that day, no matter how many times her mother tried to drag her back there, saying that she wanted to stay at home and take care of her best friend.

“Two.”

Mark remembers the second month after they started dating. Of melted ice cream cones and chocolates they shared after school was over. And those secret kisses they stole from each other when their parents weren’t looking. Mark remembers how she used to compare him with summer, and when Mark pouted because he thought she was talking about how his pale skin easily got burned under the sunlight, she only laughed, kissed his cheek, and said, “You’ll always be my summer, Mark.”

“Three.”

He remembers how they used to speak those three words every night and every morning of every day. He remembers how they used to be so shy and he also remembers the day those three words became a promise. A promise, in Mark’s case, that lasts forever. But one that she’d forget in the near future.

“Four.”

Mark had only sung to her with his nervous fingers playing his acoustic guitar four times, but the adoration and the love she had in her eyes lasted for four years.

“Five…”

“There are five reasons why you should fall in love and stay in love with me, Mark Lee,” she once said with a smug smile on her face. “First, I’m a natural beauty.” Mark yawned and she threw her pillow at him. “Second, I’m a loving and caring person.” Mark rolled his eyes and he got a glare in return. “Third, I’m smart—like hella smart.” Mark began to bury his face in his pillow and she flicked him on the ear. “Fourth, I’m sexy.” Mark stared at her with boredom in his eyes as he clapped his hands nonchalantly. “What, it’s true! You said so once, don’t you dare lie to me! And last but not least, I’m your best friend and I’ve understood you as well as I know the back of my hand.” Mark secretly smiled at that.

“Well,” he said, “you know how many reasons are there for you to love me?”

Her eyes twinkled in a teasing manner. “How many?”

“Just one,” Mark said, lacing his fingers with hers.

“And that is?” she asked, looking up to him through her long, beautiful eyelashes.

“It’s because I love you,” Mark said. “Unconditionally and everlastingly. That should be enough reason for you, right?”

And he muffled her happy giggle with a kiss to her lips.

Mark’s eyes start to grow heavy. “S… Six…”

He remembers the way she blushed when he swatted her bangs away from her eyes. Remembers the way she warmed his hands, puffing her cheeks when he was risking his health for her sake. He remembers the way she gasped against his mouth, her spine pressed against the fence, her fingers fisting at the fabric of his sweater.

“Se…ven…”

“What are you doing, Mark?”

“I’m writing a song.”

“What’s it called?”

“Seven days.”

“Why?”

Mark went flustered and he nearly fainted when she stole his notepad and kept herself moving, dodging his every attempt in retrieving it, before she read on the lyrics he wrote.

“Surprisingly, a week feels really short. Any time spent with you, to end it, it’s a pity. I’m still curious about everything about you. I fall for you more as I get to know you.”

She sent him a look and Mark immediately babbled, “It’s not specifically about you, it’s about people in general—“ But she muffled the rest of his excuse with her lips, hands tugging around his collar, pressing him closer than ever.

“Eight…”

They just turned eighteen but Mark had her lying underneath him, fingers trembling and lips bruised from his feverish kisses. “I want to be with you. I want to make you feel good. Let me be yours.”

“Am I making you happy?”

“MARK, WATCH OUT!”

A tear slips away from his eye as he begins to close his lids. And the boy never gets to finish counting because his dreams stop there. And now, nightmares welcome him with open arms, just as darkness begins to envelop him once again.

Like an old friend.

***

“Don’t you think Yukhei will get mad?” she asks, giggling as she buries her face in her boyfriend’s chest, still peppering small kisses now and then. The clock’s ticking, showing the number 18.18 on the screen of her cellphone. They’re still mostly naked underneath the sheets—with her dressed only in her lingerie and Donghyuck only wearing his boxer—not caring that his roommate, Wong Yukhei, can come back there any second.

“What, because we just had sex on his bed and cuddled afterward?” Donghyuck says, and he chuckles when she punches his shoulder. “Hey, I did say I love you but easy on the hands there, Mike Tyson.”

She beams at him and giggles again when Donghyuck begins to hover above her and trails butterfly kisses from her neck to her collarbones. “Shouldn’t we shower? I feel so dirty,” she says, chuckling when Donghyuck licks a long stripe on the sensitive skin.

“Well, I’m about to do something dirtier to you so why bother?” He slides his hand down her stomach, making her fidget a little with his silky smooth touch, and hover his fingers above the line of her lingerie. Noticing how she nibbles on her lip, anticipating something to occur, Donghyuck smirks. “If I ask you to beg, would you do it?”

Her cheeks turn scarlet but she quickly retorts with, “No way in hell.”

He pouts, jutting out his lower lip. “I could make you feel really good, though.”

She can’t stand being the opposite of him when he’s being sinfully seductive like this. “I’m leaving,” she announces, attempts to wiggle herself free from his hold but he catches her with a snicker tumbling off his lips. Settling her down on his lap, he lays a hand on her spine while his other one sneaks around her waist, bringing her close until his lips graze the supple skin between her breasts.

“You’re leaving?” Donghyuck murmurs, landing another trail of kisses between the valley of her breasts, tongue darting out to taste her skin. “But I still need to worship my Goddess.”

She wants to send him a snarky remark but she’s too deep in pleasure to care at the moment. She sighs and runs her fingers through his hair. Donghyuck flips her around, laying her back to the bed, and spreads her legs apart so he can fit between them. She becomes nervous from the intensity of his gaze as if he’s being consumed by desire and he wants to drag her with him.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he says, bending down until she can feel his breath fanning the inside part of her thigh. “I’ve been wanting you for so long, you don’t even know.” His eyes never leave hers as he sucks bruises on the sensitive skin of her thigh. “And now that I have you where I want you, I still couldn’t get enough. What should I do?”

She swallows hard, instantly closing her eyes when he pushes her lingerie to the side, fingers dipping inside her warmth. His eyes glimmer with lust, wetting his lower lip once as he’s captivated with her sultry expression. “Fuck, you’re so sexy like this.”

Her fingers are twisting against the sheet when she hears his praise followed quickly by the heat of his tongue rubbing against her clit. She’s drowning, intoxicated by his every move, her orgasm nearing close.

But then Donghyuck suddenly stops and breaks away. His eyes are stern and wide, filled with horror.

She frowns as she follows his gaze, landing her eyes on the middle of her bare chest. There’s a long cut, fresh and red, that starts to appear inch by inch on her skin. It begins from a few centimeters below her collarbones to the skin between her breasts, until it stops just a few inches away from her navel.

“W-what is this?” She sits up straight, touching the cut with trembling fingers. She doesn’t feel any pain, which means—

She takes a look at Donghyuck’s chest—at the man who claims that he’s her Soulmate—and finds nothing. There’s no scar on his chest. The mark comes from someone else.

Donghyuck’s not her Soulmate.

Donghyuck’s gawks at the sight before he stares back at her without blinking. When realization appears vividly on her face, he gulps and stutters, “I-I can explain…”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” She screams, her eyes filled with hurt and betrayal. And when Donghyuck just gazes at her in shock, she pushes him away by his shoulders with so much force, he almost topples off the bed. “GET OUT!”

“W-wait—” Donghyuck tries to explain, standing on his feet with his eyes filled with fear of being thrown away. He looks like death is approaching him. “Noona, please, listen to me—”

“No!” She throws everything she can reach by her hands—his pillow, the sheets, his clothes—while her eyes begin to grow hot and the pain of being betrayed and blatantly lied growing more vividly behind her chest. “How dare you do this to me, you—”

“Noona!” Donghyuck holds her wrists and tries to keep up with her struggle. “Please, calm down and listen—”

“I HATE YOU!” She bites back, crying with her teeth gritting behind her lips when Donghyuck has her pinned back down to the bed. “I hate you…” her voice reduces into a softer tone but somehow it adds more fresh wounds to Donghyuck’s feelings. He knows she doesn’t hate him just like how he will never be able to hate her, no matter what she does. Soulmates or not, she truly does love him. But this... This new scar on her chest... This still changes everything.

Donghyuck’s eyes turn sorrowful—there’s no more light in them. No joy, no mischievous gleam, nothing but a disappointment he has brought upon himself. “Noona…”

“I believed you,” she sobs, staring at him with broken eyes and quivering lips. “I believed you, Haechannie—how could you do this to me?”

Donghyuck loses his grip, feeling all of his strength leaving his body. “I’m…” He swallows and reaches out a hand when she throws her wrist above her eyes. “Noona, there’s a reason why I’m doing this—”

“Your scar!” She suddenly yells, eyes filled with nothing but rage. “That scar on the back of your neck—is that fake?”

“Noona—”

“Answer me!”

Donghyuck freezes, his throat feels dry when he speaks. “Yes,” He finally admits and he can almost hear her heart shattering apart. “Yes, it’s fake.”

She lets out a breath, one hand going to the side of her head. “I can’t believe it…” Her breathing goes a bit ragged. “I can’t believe you’ve been lying to me—”

“Yes, but—”

“After all this time,” she says, staring at him with new tears in her eyes. “After all this time, Haechannie… You’ve been lying to me.”

Donghyuck endures the pain that comes every time she says those words. “Noona, please, you need to listen to me.” And when he tries to take her wrist again, she pulls back immediately.

“Can you please leave?” she asks between her quiet sobs but her tone is definite. “I’m… I’ll be away before you come back so just—”

“Noona, can we at least talk—”

“Hyuck, please,” she cries, fisting the sheets underneath her. “Just leave me alone.”

And Donghyuck does as she says because he feels that if he stays just a second longer, she’ll break apart even more and he never wants to see her like that. He’s supposed to bring smiles to her face—to make her laugh just like the old days, but look what he has done now?

Goddammit, Hyuck.

He hurriedly puts his pants on and he’s already standing at the door before he can even place his shirt back on. “Noona…” He whispers, taking a last look at the girl who’s now hugging her knees to her chest and crying miserably to her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

But she doesn’t hear him. She doesn’t want to hear him.

Just let me be alone.

Donghyuck brings his gaze down to the floor. “I’ll give you some time to get ready. I’ll make sure you’ve left before I come back,” he says, closing the door behind him. “Goodbye, Noona.”

This situation seems familiar but it feels way, way much worse.

***

Mark Lee

18: 01: 19

“Doctor, how is he?” Mark’s mother quickly asks the man when he steps into the waiting room. Her husband stands behind her with a stiff hand on her shoulder, praying for his child’s health. Mark’s older brother bites his lower lip, waiting anxiously for the moment he can breathe in relief because he knows his little brother will be fine.

But that turns out to be wrong when the doctor shakes his head and says, “I’m sorry.”

The surgery has failed. Mark’s body rejects his new heart and he can no longer be saved.

Life ends but their sorrow stays.

***

After passing twenty minutes of trying to calm herself down, burying herself under the sheets during those dreading minutes, she finally gets up from the bed. Her hands are still shaky when she collects her clothing and dresses properly. She stares at herself in the mirror, taking a glimpse of the new long scar in the middle of her chest before she buttons her shirt up. Something must have happened to her other half—she needs to find out what it is. She needs to know who it is.

She closes her eyes. Everything hurts and she doesn’t know why but that man’s face—the guy who stood by her gate last night—keeps appearing on her mind. But every time she remembers him, another wound breaks inside her chest, and tears begin to roll down once more.

Exhaling a deep breath, she searches for her phone. She quickly scrolls through her contact list and dials the numbers she’s been searching.

Pick up, pick up, PICK UP!

A woman’s voice comes through the line. “Hello, Yongsan Municipal Library, how may I help—”

“Yes, hi,” she hastily greets, voice still filled with quivers but with more strength behind it when she introduced herself. “I’m looking for this guy named Mark Lee—he w-works at your place a-and—” her voice breaks at the end, trembling with tears that’s about to flood her eyes. “Can… Can you please, let me speak to him?”

There’s a silence on the other side of the phone and she wonders whether that lady doesn’t understand the words she just said or for some entirely different reason.

Please let him be okay.

“You’re looking for Mark Lee?” she asks and she nods until she realizes she can’t see her. “Y-yes,” she croaks out.

“Well, he hasn’t come here since two days ago,” the lady explains while her heart sinks below her stomach. “He said he was about to go through surgery—”

“Surgery?”

“Yes, for his heart,” she answers and her hand unconsciously goes to her chest. It’s starting to make sense now. “I heard he got into the operation room a few hours ago. I’m still waiting for the news, actually. It’s—oh wait, I got a mail. Maybe this is it.” There’s a rustling sound going on in the background and she waits with her heart thumping loudly. A few seconds later, she hears a soft gasp, “Oh my goodness.”

“Ma’am?” she starts. “Ma’am, what’s wrong? Is he alright?”

Say yes. Please say yes.

Another silence before the lady comes to answer her with a voice so quiet she almost mistakes it as a whisper. “Mark Lee has passed away, just a few minutes ago. He was—”

She drops her phone to the floor in panic and quickly unbuttons her shirt again. She runs to the mirror, focusing her gaze at her reflection and she finds nothing.

The scar on her chest has vanished, not even leaving a trace of it behind. Just like the memories she had with him.

Donghyuck doesn’t really leave the room even when she has screamed at him to do so. He’s closed the door behind him but he doesn’t walk away. Instead, he slides down to the floor, pressing his back against the wooden surface, and waits. The hallway is empty and Donghyuck shivers from the cold.

God, you’re so fucking stupid, he thinks to himself. You shouldn’t have agreed with Chenle. You should’ve known this wouldn’t have worked.

Donghyuck traces the scar on his nape—the fake scar that he made to make her believe. To make her think that he was her Soulmate.

He feels like he’s about to vomit. He’s so sick of himself. Disgusting, he thinks, you’re a piece of crap, Lee Donghyuck. He closes his eyes, biting on his lower lip as his mind flashes back to his conversation with his younger friend, Zhong Chenle.

“Hyung, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“You said you wanted to get close to her, right?” Chenle had once said to him. “She has a scar on the back of her neck. That’s the clue.”

Yukhei reached out to see what was hidden behind Donghyuck’s collar. “Shit, dude,” he said, hissing, “You don’t have it. The scar—you’re not her Soulmate.”

Donghyuck’s heart flopped and it took a moment for him to recover. “W-well…” He barked a laugh, masking his disappointment though he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Well then, there goes my chance.”

“No, you still have a chance,” Chenle corrected. “I know who her Soulmate is. And he’s dying.”

“W-what?”

“Mark Lee,” Chenle said with sorrowful eyes and a broken heart. Donghyuck knew perfectly who he was—that guy, the owner of prominent cheekbones, thin lips, and pale skin who constantly refused his offer to play soccer together. “Mark Lee is her Soulmate, Hyung. But he’s... He’s dying. His heart is weak and that’s why he doesn’t want to get close to her. He knows he’s not gonna last long.”

“B-but—” Donghyuck splutters, frowning. “Does she know about this?”

“No,” Chenle shook his head once. “They used to date and she didn’t even know it back then. They didn’t know it back then. Then they got into an accident and she lost her memories. Mark thinks it’s a chance for him to stay away from her.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Donghyuck shouted angrily. “He’s her Soulmate! She deserves to know! They deserve to be together even just for a while—”

“He doesn’t want to. He’s given up, Hyung. He wants me to tell you that.” And his next words were the last thing Chenle said before he left with an apologetic look on his face. “I know you want to push Mark to be with her but I think you should stop. He thinks it’s better this way.”

Donghyuck hissed under his breath, pushing his hair back in frustration. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Yukhei gaped before his friend confronted him and asked, “Yukhei, what happened when your Soulmate dies before you know them?”

The tall boy realized where Donghyuck was going with this. He remembered how Donghyuck hadn’t gotten any scars on his body yet.

“You’ll find yourself another Soulmate.”

With that in mind, Donghyuck ran through the corridors, stepping into the faculty he knew Mark Lee was in. The paler boy was in the middle of his literature class and Donghyuck just went in, blurting out, “Sorry Prof, it’s an emergency!” to the lecturer before he yanked Mark out of his seat. The older one was quiet, following him without asking questions until Donghyuck shoved him against a wall in an empty hallway.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Donghyuck asked through gritted teeth. His hands were grasping tightly against the fabric of Mark’s collar.

Mark stared at him back with cold, almost challenging eyes. “I should be the one who asked you that. You’re the one who suddenly dragged me over here.”

“She’s your Soulmate!” Donghyuck nearly screamed at him. “Do you know how rare it is to find your Soulmate at such a young age?”

Mark only kept his face straight when he replied, “So you’ve heard.”

“Yes, I’ve heard, you asshole,” Donghyuck spat back. “And from your friend too because apparently, you’re too busy being such a fucking coward to tell me yourself!”

Mark’s eyes darkened at his degrading words but he didn’t say anything.

Donghyuck exhaled in exasperation. “Look, Mark. do you know how much she wants to find her Soulmate? How much she wants to be with you? You’ve known all along and I know you guys had a history together so why the hell aren’t you two together now?”

Mark’s jaw clenched before he broke their eye contact. “It’s better this way.”

“Why, because you’re dying?”

Mark’s eyes grew hard before he closed them. “Among many reasons.”

Donghyuck was on the verge of punching him so hard across his jaw but when he saw the wounded look that flitted through Mark’s eyes for just a few seconds, he restrained himself. Instead, he just asked,” How could you be so selfish?”

Mark immediately turned to look at the other man with a hard glare, his heart beating fast from his rage. “Selfish?” Mark asked, his tone sounded almost as sharp as a knife. “I’m selfish? Donghyuck-ah, I’m letting the person I care about the most in the world fall into another man’s arm because I don’t want to hurt her! If I die, she’ll—”

“She’ll what? She’ll be sad? Devastated? Well, hey, news flash, Mark. Everybody dies!” Donghyuck exclaimed. “You say you’re dying but you can never know when you’re actually going to die. My condition is as good as a person can be but who can guarantee I’m gonna live long? What if I get into an accident? What if I suddenly get sick and die the next day? You can never know so don’t use that as an excuse, you coward!”

Donghyuck had a point; Mark knew that. But it wasn’t easy.

Mark just shook his head. “I can’t do this.”

“Of course.” Donghyuck scoffed. “And that’s why I said you’re being selfish.”

“You want to talk about being selfish?!” Mark was losing his patience. “Try to look at yourself! You’re here, pretending like you care and want us to be together when it’s obvious that you’re happy with all of this because you get to have her for yourself—”

Donghyuck punched the boy with his right fist. He couldn’t help it. He snapped.

The punch wasn’t hard enough to knock the teeth out of his mouth but it was hard enough to make Mark feel lightheaded and fall to the floor. He hissed, rubbing the pain off his jaw, and leaned his back against the wall.

“Fine,” Donghyuck said, staring at the boy who looked up at him with a new bruise forming along his right jaw. Donghyuck could see how much Mark wanted to be with her and how much he tried to convince himself to do so. But he could tell how Mark was afraid. That boy almost lost everything once—he knew how awful it was to be left alone. He didn’t want that to happen to her and though Donghyuck understood that, he just couldn’t accept it yet. “If you want to give up on her,” he said, “Then go. Do it. I’m not you so I don’t know how you feel but I can see that deep down inside, you still don’t want to let her go. But the thing is, Mark, I’m gonna fight for her. I’m gonna make her happy. Soulmates or not, I’m gonna try to make her feel loved because I am—I’m in love with her. But I am not happy taking her away from her Soulmate—from you. That’s your fault. You had two options and you chose to leave. That’s your own decision, so don’t try to make yourself feel better by telling me how I feel. You don’t know me.”

Mark brought his head down, nibbling on his lip. His eyes felt hot and he felt downright awful about himself. He didn’t mean to insult Donghyuck—he was just angry for a second there. His emotions had gone over control.

“Then go make her happy,” Mark said, picking himself up from the floor and walked away. Donghyuck stared at his back and nodded with a sincere promise even when the boy could no longer see him.

“Stupid,” Donghyuck murmurs to himself as his flashback ends. “Mark’s right. You’re selfish. You’re such an idiot.” He punches the ground beneath him a few times out of frustration before he slides his fingers through his hair and pulls on the roots. He doesn’t notice how he just cut himself along his knuckles, his skin breaking and bleeding slowly through a thin layer. “You can’t even be sure you’re her next Soulmate, Hyuck. You’re just an idiot. An idiot and an asshole and you just lost her for the second time in your pathetic little life.” He closed his eyes and leaned back to the door.

Noona, please forgive me.

She slides down to the floor and hugs her knees to her chest. Pressing her temple to her knees, she sobs until her entire shoulders begin to shake.

Mark Lee was her Soulmate. And he knew—that’s why he came to her house that night. Why didn’t he just tell the truth? And why did he look so familiar? So familiar and yet she doesn’t remember anything. Why can’t she remember him?

God, I beg you, please. Let me remember him, she prays under her muffled sobs, if he ever meant something to me, please, let me remember him. I don’t care if it’ll hurt me, I don’t care. I just want to remember him. That’s all I ask.

Mark…

But as Mark dies, the permanent scar he gets on his chest before his final moment dies with him as well. The memory of him never suffices and Mark is just a shadow, following her everywhere but one that she cannot see.

She braces herself to glance one more time at the scar on her chest but there’s none. The cut has disappeared. She’s just as good as new.

Except for the faint cut that recently appears on her knuckles.

***

270 notes · View notes

insomniamamma · 3 years ago

Text

“Surf City Goodness”: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

A/n: This is the same AU as “Ferris Wheels Are for Old People” and “Liminal” but you don’t have to read those to read this one. Ezra loses his arm in an automobile accident which kills his brother, Damon and orphans his niece, Cee. Reader lives across the street from Ezra and they’ve been friendly for sometime but now it’s something more. Set after “Ferris Wheels Are For Old People” This is for @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape ‘s Writer Wednesday.

Warnings: Language. Mentions of sex. Mentions of drug abuse. Mentions of traumatic injury/surgical scars. Mentions of Reader’s ex. Cee needs her own warning, but mostly this is just fluff. Ez and Cee and Reader enjoy a trip to the beach. I will include some songs from Cee’s playlist at the end.

Iggy Pop's voice warbles out of the speakers. "I wanna go to the beach, I don't care if it's decadent, I don't know where my spirit went, but that's alright..." "This seems a bit bleak, Birdie," says Ezra. "Quit your griping, you'll get your surf city goodness soon enough," says Cee and grins. Part of the deal they've worked out is that Cee gets to pick the music for any road trip longer than two hours, otherwise it's NPR until the signal fades and then whatever classic rock they can pick up. The three of you are crammed in the cab of Ezra's battered Ford Ranger. Cee is the smallest so she sits in the middle. The truck's bed is full of gear, air mattresses and sleeping bags and towels, a cooler filled with food and another filled with beer. I don't know what conditions we'll find exactly, Ez told you, We haven't been back here in some time. "If there's spiders I'm sleeping in the truck," you said and Ezra smiled, and pressed his remaining hand over his heart. "Never fear, Sunshine, I will protect your from our arachnid friends."

"Hey Sunshine!" Ezra calls from his front porch. You look up from your laptop to see Ezra and Cee laden with grocery bags. "Hey, Ez, you need a hand?" He smirks. This is an old joke between the two of you. When Ezra first came home, with Cee and without his arm, they were unloading Cee and Damon's things, bags and boxes and you, without thought had asked if he needed a hand, it just came out and you'd clapped your hands to your mouth, and then spluttered, I'm so sorry I didn't mean--and Ezra laughed, of course I need a hand. I'm down to just the one. "Always," he says. You loop the plastic bags over your arms, sweating packages laden with ground beef and bratwursts and chicken thighs. "You all having a party?" "We're going to the beach," says Cee. "You should come with us. It'll be fun." "Jesus, Cee," he mutters and then collects himself and smiles, "I had meant to ask you before this one jumped the gun-" "It's fine. Really." "You still working remotely?" asks Ezra. "For now. There's some talk about keeping my department remote." "Good thing or bad thing?" "Good thing," you say, "I like working in my pajamas." "Good thing because you could come with us," says Ezra. "Ez--" "I'm dead serious," he says, "Cee's got a four day weekend. We've got decent internet. Damon saw to that before...well, before. Mind you, this will probably be something of a working vacation. Ma's house has stood empty sometime. Damon used to keep it up but..." Ezra trails off. It's a small town. Damon's drug problems were more or less public knowledge. You think of the files you still need to edit, but for once you're ahead of the game. None of that is due until midway through next week. You've got some wiggle room if things go south. "Yeah? Yeah, fuck it. I'm coming with." Ezra smiles wide, revealing his dimples. And that's how you end up in the cab of Ezra's beat-to-shit truck listening to Cee's fun and somewhat baffling playlist.

"Talk to me, baby,I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh, Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy, I-I-I-I-I keep on hopin' we'll eat cake by the ocean..." "Is this a parody?" Asks Ezra, "Like a Weird Al Yankovic thing?" "No," says Cee, "It's an actual song. One of the Jonas brothers did it." "Someone greenlit and recorded this on purpose." "Yep." "A song. About eating cake on a beach." Cee gives you a sly look. "It's a metaphor, Ez," she says, "They're eating something but it's not cake." You have to hold in a laugh, watching the gears in Ezra's brain grind, watching his eyes go big. "Ohmygod! Cee!" Cee cackles and you snort laughter. "You are fifteen years old! You are a minor child! You should not be going there! You should not even know that there exists!" Ezra's cheeks go red. Cee is wheezing, eyes screwed shut with laughter, her own cheeks flaming, "You. Should see. Your face," she says. "It's not funny!" "Oh, it's funny," you say, "She got you good." "Come on, Ez," says Cee, "You think I can't recognize a poorly veiled sexual reference when I hear one? It doesn't take a genius--" "You are a terror," says Ezra, and Cee grins, proud of the title, "And you--" he arcs and eyebrow in your direction--"Are not helping matters." You give him your brightest smile. "What can I say? I thought it was just a song about some goofballs eating cake by the ocean." He huffs, but you can see the smirk creeping up his cheek as he drives.

The house at the end of the driveway is small, a cottage really, single storied and built up on stilts like the others around it, painted a faded robin's egg blue with white trim. The garage is underneath the house, room enough for one car and next to it is a room built to shelter the water heater and plumbing. A wooden staircase snakes up to a deck that wraps the entire structure. Sea grass sprouts in clumps from the sand. It's hot inside, a stale heat, and the first thing you do is open all the windows. "I think there's a couple box fans in the storage space," says Ezra, "I'll go fetch them." The back deck overlooks the ocean, pale expanse of sand and the gentle lap of blue-green sea, a wooden staircase reaches down to the sand below. The day is bright and hot and shot through with high cirrus clouds. You and Ezra have stripped the sheets from the beds and popped them in the washer, loaded the dishwasher, put fans in the windows. "This is cleaner than I expected," says Ezra, "Maybe Damon cared more than I gave him credit for." Ezra's face clouds. You take his hand, squeeze his fingers in yours. You know little about Damon other than the town gossip and what Ezra himself has told you. You don't understand the convolutions of their relationship, you just know that Damon is a slow-healing wound, and that it does Ezra no good to pick at it. You tug at him. "C'mon. Let's get changed. Cee's already got her suit on."

"Turn around, Birdie, let me get your back." Cee rolls her eyes but does as she's asked. Ezra sprays sunscreen across her bony shoulders and rubs it in. "I found a boogie board under the deck," says Cee, "And some toys from when I was real small. I found those floaty things you all used to put on my arms, remember those?" "I do," says Ezra, "Damon chucked you into the surf without so much as a by-your-leave. It scared the hell out of Ma but you laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. You're good to go, Little Bird." "Thanks, Ez." And she's down the stairs, heading towards the surf. "Your turn, Sunshine," he says and you turn your back to him. He presses a kiss against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, that one place that makes you squirm and shiver, right on the line between erogenous and ticklish. "Menace--" you say and then squawk when the cold spray hits you, soothed by the passage of his calloused palm across your shoulders, gently gripping the nape of your neck, and you lean back against him briefly, relishing his solidity, his warmth, his hand rests lightly on your hip. "Let me get your back," you say. Ezra turns his back to you and shucks out of his t-shirt. He's already ditched his prosthetic arm. Don't know how seaworthy it is, he'd said, as expensive as it was I don't care to find out. You shake the can of sunscreen and blast him with it. "Christ! That's cold!" "We gotta make sure Cee reapplies after a couple hours," you say, smoothing your hands over his broad back, relishing the slide of his tanned skin beneath your palms, "She'll burn to a crisp otherwise." You press your fingers into the tight muscles of his neck and he makes a contented sound like a purr in his chest. "You're always so tense right here," you say and dig your fingers in, feeling the thrumming muscles loosen somewhat under your touch. Ezra leans back into you as you did to him moments ago, your arms snake around his shoulders, tuck your face against the side of his neck. This thing with you and Ezra is soft and languid and you're not sure how to define it. This is not the fevered, clawed territory of young lovers, the sort of push and pull you had with your ex, the idea that love had to keep proving itself somehow. With Ezra there is nothing to prove. He seems content to ride this gentle wave, to let things play out in their own time. "Turn around," you murmur against his skin, "Not done with you yet." "Now, I am perfectly capable of applying--" he starts, but you see his eyes drop, and know it for what it is. You've known Ezra for a while. The two of you were always friendly, since you moved in across the street from him. Ezra before was even more exuberant, had a swagger about him, confidence in his own skin that is only just now trying starting to return. Ezra before would preen under your gaze if he caught you looking at him while he repainted his deck or put down mulch in his garden, Ezra now shrinks from your eyes. You can see the self-doubt seep in. The worry about his scars, that the loss of his arm makes him less, somehow. "I know," you say, "Maybe I just want an excuse to get handsy." He arcs an eyebrow at you, that brief flash of doubt replaced with his more familiar smug smirk. "Well, have at it, by all means," he says. You spray him with the sunscreen and start rubbing it in, smoothing over his freckled shoulders, down his upper arms, mindful of the tender skin at the end of his stump, the dips of his clavicles, his broad chest, littered in angry pink scars that shout in contrast to the rest of his skin. Punched indentations along his ribs where they'd stuck in tubes to drain the air and blood out of his collapsed lungs. You work your way down along his soft belly and back up his sides, a hissed intake of breathe and you stop. "Does that hurt?" "Nah. Tickles." "Mmm-hmmm. I'll have to remember that so I can use it to my advantage later." "Oh and I'm the menace," he says, his arm curls low around your hip, pulling you nearly flush with him, and you complete the motion, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him tight against you, your chin notched over his shoulder. Cee is creeping up the stairs with a battered plastic bucket in her hands. She shoots you a grin and you know exactly what she has in mind. You back up a little, cup Ezra's stubbled cheeks in your hands and kiss the tip of his nose. "Surprise," you say and take a big step back. There's just time enough for that little furrow to start between his brows and then Cee dowses him, a whole bucket of seawater poured directly over his head. He splutters. His eyes go big and round. Cee is doubled over laughing. "Oh," he says, blinking salt water out of his eyes, "Oh that's it. Today's the day, Cee! I am going to drown you!" "Gotta catch me first, old man!" says Cee and pelts down the beach. You run after them, their bright laughter peals through the warm summer air. Ezra grabs Cee and dunks her into an oncoming wave. She emerges splashing great fans into Ezra's face. "It is only proper that I took my vengeance," says Ezra, holding his hands out to deflect the spray. "I don't think the Geneva conventions apply here, you douche-canoe," says Cee. "Oi! That language--" This is your opening. You grab Ezra around his waist and push off backward into the oncoming wave, pulling him down with you. The two of you come back up, coughing and laughing, arms slung around each other. There's no shadow in Ezra's eyes now, you press your lips to his, the waves roll over you, the tide dragging at your bodies while you and him remain still. Press of your lips to his, your tongue licks out and tastes salt on his lips and he opens for you, his hand cupping the back of your head, guiding you against him, his tongue stroking against yours, no battle for dominance, this, just the plush heat of his mouth, the heave of your chests when you finally break apart, waist deep in the ocean. "I--" says Ezra and Cee's splash hits at face level. "Gotcha!" she crows, and starts running. "You miserable little rat!" He hollers, chasing her through the surf. You stand hip deep in the water and laugh. You're not sure what you and Ezra are to each other. Lovers? Friends? Family? Whatever it this is, it feels right and good. It feels like being home.

A/n: Here is a sampling of Cee’s beach trip playlist:

“I Want To Go To The Beach” by Iggy Pop

“Telstar” by The Tornados

“Cake By The Ocean” by DNCE

“Rockaway Beach” by The Ramones

“Misirlou” by Dick Dale and his Del-Tones

#writer wednesday #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra (prospect) x f!reader #ezra and cee #prospect au #prospect contemporary AU

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yourdaddychan · 4 years ago

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wow-

literally just wow- i genuinely have nothing to say about this please- i cannot explain how much this means to me- there's 1000 of us- *hugs all of you* [ especially the porn bots ] *turns into formal luna asf*

i remember when i started in may, just a tiny chatbot with only one mutual, only known to you guys as [ answer : admin ]. and now, almost a year later, i have 1k of my chainsaw eating demons who are metal as fuck 💪ive learned so much being on tumblr, as a part of both the skz writers community and the chatbot community. ive made a bunch of friends, lost a bunch of ones, and 1k of you stuck with me. i cannot begin to express my gratitude to all of you, and how much all of you and your interactions with me mean to me. all of the simping, the random stories, everything. i cherish all of it, and i love all of you. aight so letz get to the personal thanking asf

alsoer i kinda wanted to do something sexy so imma do what color they remind me of :D most of them can be found at this link : https://louisem.com/29880/color-thesaurus-infographic

@kvinly linn bb 🥺through all the drama we've been through and shit im so glad we ended up becoming friends again cause we're kinda sexy together 😉thank you so much for being my 1000th follower bb you mean so much to me and if anyone hurts you im about to *turns into jennie and kachows them* licherally lets nevah fight again

-> you remind me of the color punch , and not only because of the name- underneath that grr me edgy grr me bully you're just a softie simp and that reminds me of punch :D

@undeadbots steph 🥺lemme be your personal broken chopsticks pls :( KLDSKLD anywayz we've also gone through some sexy drama and thankfully you saw da light 😉and now look at us, with our own band, and our own producing line 🥺brohemian rhapsody for life bro 🥺 *big kithie for da best dad in da world :D*

-> you remind me of the color viridian , because it gives me confident vibes :D you carry yourself proudly and confidently as you should tbh go steph

@binniesthighs oh look its a cutie *pushes you to a mirror* right there :D RORORO YOUR BOAT :DD we havent talked too much, besides my simping for jisung- but you give me very sexy energy so imma propose rq *gets down on one knee* will you be the rororo to my boat 🥺thank you for being my moot :D

-> you remind me of the color espresso , because espresso looks like the color to be pretty chill and laid back, and you're all of those, and calming to be around

@toshis-flower BAYBEE BEBE BEEBEE :D thank you so much for being my moot and making me a wifey asf ‼️ you're literally so much like me whats not to love <3 JKSDJKD JKJK you're really sweet and really just a good person to rant to, i love you so so so much and i think im going to remarry you :D

-> you remind me of the color taffy , because you're sweet, cute, and bright :D *eats you* yummy

@lov3ric seyoung. i love you. so much. MY SOULMATEEEE :DD even though we tell the story over and over like a bunch of grandmas, ill still never forget how we became soulmates and then bonded over boba 🥺im licherally going to marry you one day like ez 💪also i wanna eat you can i eat you youre really cute *eats you*

-> you remind me of the color daffodil , because it reminds me of banana milk which reminds me of you tbh- buuuttt did you know that daffodils are one of the first flowers you see when spring starts? that definitely reminds me of you because through all of the cb drama, you've always been there with me, like literally always- i cannot express how much i love you *kithie*

@simpchimp LIDDLE CHEESE FUCKER THEMBO :DD drink water *spank* i love you so much you cutie 🥺you're also licherally the funniest person ever like stop bae i kinda need to be the funniest but noer its you 😔alsoer i love how random you are KDSKLD so nevah stop that because then *revz up arm* youre going to get luna-ified

-> you remind me of the color jam , because even though you seem kinda scary at first [ yes i was 100% scared of you ] you're really soft :D

@berrywoo the sun themself 💪you are easily the purest person ive met, and im so happy i somehow became moots with you :D you literally hit diff, yk? theres something about your personality and the way you act thats so comforting, and that means i eat you because youre too cute :D you cant just be a wholeass teacher for kids and expect not to get eaten kids are licherally demons whoever deals with them properly and treatz dem nicely gets a nom asf

-> you remind me of the color honey , because you're a sunshiney yellow, and you're sweet like honey :D i think you need to hear that its okay not to be okay bb, and you can come to my dms anytime you want to rant 😎

@yourchungha MS OG CHUNGHA MS IM KINDA SCARED OF THE SHIT YOU DO MS FURREH LOVER 101 MS ANNA BANANA :D yeah youre like really nice- thats all i have to say- like how tf do you deal with [ redacted ] like eggsplain- ALSO YOURE CARRYING OUR CONVERSATIONS BECAUSE IDK HOW TO TALK TO PEOPLE DKSJKD I LOVE YOU FOR THAT AND WE SHOULD HAVE LIKE ACTUAL CONVERSATIONS MORE OFTEN

-> you remind me of the color scarlet , because youre a sexy bitch tf and scarlet gives me 'idc what you think im hot' kinda vibes which is like exactly you

@satosimp WINTER DADDY :DD i lub you asf *insert we dont talk anymore by charlie daddy* ugh the way your personality matches mine is kinda sexy or whatever im also kinda in love with you but lets ignore that part 🙄 💪 *big kithes* *eats your cats casually*

-> you remind me of the color lilac , because it just gives me tsundere vibes, you act like you dont care but really do care :D you liddle sawftie *noms your cheekie*

@nightshade-minho DUCKIE :DD *insert we dont talk anymore by charlie daddy pt 2* licherally bae where the fuck are you i miss you you bettah be doing well in school otherwise im going to smack you with a chappal asf DSJJKSD *eats your cat because hes such a cutie*

-> you remind me of the color marigold , because you're adorable and sunshiney :D

@onigirimeeya MICHIE MICHIE MICHIEIEEIEI MY DAD :DDD i like you mucho much if you didnt know *kithes you* you're like one awf da best listeners ever- which is such a weirdass compliment but its true- you're really good at listening, and just being a comforting presence in general, like when you go to the beach and youre just staring at the waves all edgy mode, and it calms you down a fuck ton

-> you remind me of the color mint , for obvious reasons- mint choco chip cookie michie :DD

@hhjs bae we dont talk a lot but im kinda lurking on all of your posts- JKDSJSKD bae remarry me please youre really fucking hot 😭and the way you have with words is like damn- teach me oppar asf

-> you remind me of the color wine , because you're refined, and carry yourself in a way that makes everyone want to be you. the color wine is rich and deep, which reminds me of the way you write :D

@nsfw-stay MY LICHERAL BABIE YOUVE BEEN AN ANON FOR SUCH A LONG TIME AND WEVE TALKED ABOUT SO MUCH SHIT TOGETHER [ a lot about seungmin and jisung but shhh ] I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BB AND I WILL NOM YOU >:( BUT SOFTLY AND OUT OF LOVE *nomz yew* :D

-> you remind me of the color cerulean , because its a baby blue and what fits better than a baby blue yk? you're adorable and squishy and i want to nom you 24/7

@secretary-yeji *iz chan ig cause we dont talk admin to admin* oh erm gee is uncle chrith 😉DKLSKLD my liddle koala :D my liddle burgah :D my liddle aussie :D my besth frien :DDD evah since may i think we've been friends, and i think one of the highlights of that day was me marking you as spam twice and on accident too- LKSDKLSD WE DONT TALK ABOUT THAT anywayz thank yew for being uncle chrith's friend *kith*

-> you remind me of the color seafoam , because it's a very soft and light color yk, you're delicate asf which sounds like a bad thing now that im typing it BUT IT ISNT DSKLDSLK YOURE VERY CUTE YOU AND YOUR FLOOFY COWS :D

@ayolistenupp im kinda... in love with you? wtf? KDSDKSL MY DESI DADDY ASF I LOVE YOU SOER MUCH :D our music nights™️ mean so much to me, like theres just something so personal about listening to what the other person likes to hear even though half of your songs are sexy asf KLDSKLD

-> you remind me of the color ocean , because the ocean is loud but calming yk- like you're full of energy but you're also calming :D

@yanderexchungha OH ERM GEE YEW :O YOU PROBABLY WONT SEE THIS IN LIKE 10 MONTHS BESTIE MERRY CHRISTMAS IG KLDSLKD anyway i love you dad your lessons about vape >>> to quote your drunk ass exactly "vape isnt cool" JKSDJ anyway its gonna be sexy if we accidentally run into each other in the hallwayz asf

-> you remind me of grey cause youre a hag- JKJK KDJSD you remind me of the color caramel , because you're sweet, and licherally addictive caramel isnt good for my braces but i keep eating it 😰but youre addictive in a good way :D

@yanderelee literally only doing this because you were moping about not having a simp sunday and im such a good person 🥸you're cool 💪and unfortunately, you're funny too 😥and even though i bully you asf dont take it personally because i dont mean it asf

-> you remind me of the color dijon mustard because you just give those hacker vibes please dont hack me after i said this i like to keep my location private

@kpopswitchbot BESTIE 😏MY FIRST MUTUAL 😏 LICHERALLY DA BEST CUTEST FUNNIEST SMARTEST SEXIEST KEWLEST I CANT EVEN EXPRESS WITH WORDS FISHIE IN DA WORLD :D LICHERALLY STOP OUTDOING ME WITH YOUR GOODNIGHTS LIKE *spankz yew* YOURE LITERALLY TOO GOOD WITH WORDS ITS NOT FAIR- AND THE DAY YOU JUST TALKED TO ME IN SHAKESPEAREAN BECAUSE I FELT DOWN- AND EXPRESSED YOUR LOVE THAT WAY LIKE- PLEASE I ACTUALLY ADORE YOU AND I WILL LITERALLY EAT YOU ONE DAY

-> you remind me of the color coffee , not only because youre addicted to it but also because of the way you act, you're like the definition of an old soul- with the words you use, the drama kid you are asf, etc- you're a talented bitch *mwah* i love you so much you also remind me of those movies where they find an old ass book and they kinda hafta dust it off and it gives you treasure or something cause yeah that reminds me meeting you

AIGHT DAS IT ASF MWAH I LOVE YOU ALL :DDD

#if you wanna know more just drop an ask asf #would be cool if i had 1k for 1k but NOOOOO #i have more btw #*dabz*#THE WAY TUMBLR KEEPS GLITCHING BECAUSE THERES TOO MANY WORDS #NOT SEXY TUMBLR

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years ago

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Such Selfish Prayers

Warnings: Blasphemy, Catholic high school setting, teasing, inappropriate use of a chapel AO3

Friday morning mass had to be the most boring part of the school day. Listening to the priest go on and on about some bullshit parable made you want to run into traffic. You had zoned out until your head of year got up to make an announcement. “Ladies, those of you in Mr. Jones’ theology class are expecting some new students. Due to timetable clashes, some of the boys from Holy Cross will be joining your lesson until your exams. Please do give them a warm Sacred Heart welcome, and do not forget we are good catholic schoolgirls, so behave.” You rolled your eyes and tried not to huff. That was your theology lesson that was about to be invaded. The boys of your brother school were known for their abhorrent behaviour. Of course, the girls in your school weren’t angels, but you knew when you needed to behave; you had a reputation to maintain. You hoped they wouldn’t be too disruptive; you were already re-sitting final year and could not afford any fuck ups. //// Catholic theology; final period. The last hour between you and spending the weekend stoned or drunk, whichever came first. You were stopped by Sister Catherine on your way up to the lesson. “Y/N if I have to tell you one more time to pull your skirt down, that’s two weeks of afterschool detention, you know the rules.” You rolled your eyes and muttered a quick ‘yes sister’ and pulled your skirt down. As you walked into the classroom, you noticed that your friends were sitting in different spaces than usual. Mr Jones explained that he had rearranged the seating plan, to immerse the new boys into the classroom, and prevent a divide. You knew what he meant, you Politics lesson had a clear split between boys and girls, hurling insults at each other across the central aisle. You would be sat one boy and one girl; your seat being in the back corner, just behind your best friend Claire. You sat down and began to chat to the girl in front of you, the lesson couldn’t start without the boys and they were late. 15 Minutes had passed before they decide to show up. “Ah gentlemen, I’m glad you could make it,” said Mr Jones. “We’re sorry we’re so late sir, we got lost,” said the boy. The conversation in the room stopped at hearing his honey like voice. An American accent? Rare in your small English town. There weren’t any official government offices here so he couldn’t have been a diplomat’s son. Strange. His blond hair was perfectly styled, his uniform pressed to perfection. He looked so much more put together than the rest of his peers. You should know, it was the same school your younger brother went to, they never enforced uniform rules. You were surprised the boy wasn’t bullied for how nice it looked. “Well, don’t let it happen again, I can enforce detentions,” finished Mr. Jones. He started reading names and assigning them seats. The American boy was the last one standing and the seat next to you was the only empty one. You knew already he would be difficult; you weren’t here for it. “And finally, Mr. Langdon you will be sitting next to Miss. Y/LN. She just has a resting bitch face but I’m sure shell take good care of you,” said Mr Jones. The boy smirked at you and sauntered over. He sat down and unpacked his bag, taking over almost the whole desk. He finally turned to you, holing out his hand for you to shake. “Michael Langdon, nice to meet you.” You stared at his hand before shaking it, it was surprisingly soft. “Y/N,” you replied, tuning your attention back to the teacher, taking back your half of the desk by pushing his things to the side. You felt him staring at you. This was going to be a long lesson. //// Finally, the lesson was over. Michael had spent the whole time elbowing you and loudly bantering with his peers. If it wasn’t for you being in class, you would have hit him. You began to pack your stuff to leave, Mr Jones mentioning homework for Monday. Fuck, you’d have to see them first thing on Monday too. You resisted the temptation to leap through the window. The boy sat next to Claire turned to you,” your brother said you’d be a colossal bitch.” You furrowed your brows, “I haven’t even said anything to you, where’s this coming from? Also, my brothers in year 10 what the hell are you doing talking to him?” “You’re sat next to boy wonder over here and you haven’t said a word, he can pull conversation out of anyone,” replied the boy. You shook your head, “this is by far the stupidest conversation I’ve had in this classroom. Even stupider than the ‘is the anti-Christ sexy?’ one that we had last week.” It was Michaels turn to speak, “and what was the conclusion of that one.” Claire replied, “okay so, we thought ‘yes’ because he’s supposed to lead people into sin, right? So, you have to be sexy if people are lusting after you. Also, Satan was an angel so there’s that factor too.” “Girls!” shouted Mr Jones, “do not start that debate again we wasted a whole lesson on it already, go home its Friday I have shit to do.” You both laughed and left the classroom, not paying any mind to the boys behind you. //// Monday had arrived; the worst day of the week. To say you were hungover was an understatement. You walked in just before the lesson started, saying your good mornings before taking a seat. “you look like shit,” said the new boy. “I didn’t ask,” you replied. Mr Jones started talking to the class, “as the boys were late last week, we didn’t get to do introductions properly, so turn to your partner and tell them three things about you. Not including your name.” You rolled your eyes. “If you keep rolling your eyes, they’re gonna get stuck to the back of your head.” “again Langdon, I did not ask,” you huffed. She shot you a sarcastic smile, clearly annoyed by your short answers. “well then, what three things do you want to know about me?” “preferably nothing, but to make it go faster, where are you from?” “Los Angeles,” he replied. “ooo, California beach boy, are we? What brings you to this little catholic school in England then?” you asked. “My father sent me here, as for what he does, that’s classified.” “I wasn’t going to ask. Anyway, what’s your favourite food then?” “French toast,” he smiled. These three answers told you nothing about him, you didn’t want to admit it, something made you want to know more. “what do you want to know about me then?” you asked, not really wanting to give him any personal information. “what’s your favourite food?” “fettuccini alfredo.” “here’s what I really want to know,” he started, moving closer to you. “Who shoved that pole up your ass?” You raised your eyebrows and blinked slowly. Who did he think he is? “Why? Do you have something better?” “I might,” he replied, trailing his tongue over his teeth. “sorry. I’m not into blonds,” you finished. Turning back around to face the board. “I’m not finished asking questions,” said Michael. “I’m done answering them.” Mr Jones interrupted the class before he could argue. You hoped the class would fly by. You sat resting your chin on your hand, trying to listen to Mr Jones. Suddenly, your arm was elbowed out from beneath your chin, making you smack your chin off the table. Michael had elbowed you. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” “MISS Y/N!” “Michael elbowed me!” you said. “actually sir, her hand slipped,” Michael interjected. Mr jones looked pissed, “You know what? I really don’t care. Both of you are going to clean the chapel after school on Friday.” You sat there; gob smacked. You really did not want to spend any more time with Michael at all, but this was your final behaviour warning. Michael seemed surprisingly giddy; he was enjoying this far too much. //// Throughout the week, it seemed that Michael was doing anything he could to piss you off. Pushing you in hallways, taking your usual seats at lunch and in the library, even sitting behind you in mass, kicking your seat. “listen here you little blond bimbo bitch, if you don’t stop kicking my seat, I swear to god I’m gonna kill you,” you seethed. “Y/N! turn around were in the middle of mass!” your head of year whispered to you, trying not to disturb the priest. Michael kicked your seat even harder for the duration, even pulling your hair on occasion. How old was he? This wasn’t primary school. //// You were dreading the theology lesson today; it was the beginning of the two hours you would have to spend with the boy wonder. You took a breath to calm your nerves before walking into the classroom. ‘Revelations’ written on the board in red ink. You thought this was the most exciting book in the bible. Michael was already seated, grinning at you as you made eye contact. You moved to the other side of the aisle so he couldn’t attempt to trip you over. “Are you excited Y/N? you get to spend the next two hours with me you lucky thing.” “As soon as I see you outside these school gates it’s on sight mickey,” you replied. “Mickey?” “You look you’re an intellectual property of Disney,” you argued. “so, you think I look like a Disney prince then. I’ll keep that in mind princess.” “More like a prince of darkness, you’d be the villain actually.” He looked at you like you’d told him the funniest joke in the world, “you’re not far off,” he finished. What the hell did he mean by that? You decided not to press any further. “How do we think the world will end? Using biblical references,” Mr Jones’ voice broke through the silence. Michael had a glint in his eye, as if he knew something the rest of us didn’t. “how about Y/N? what’s your answer?” Had God decided that you were going to spend the rest of the year getting picked on? It seemed like it. “Erm well, the revelation about wormwood could easily refer to a nuclear bomb or something, looking at it in a modern context,” you gave your answer. “That’s a really good answer, nice to know your listening,” Mr Jones turned back to the class, leaving you be for the rest of the lesson. //// The lesson had ended. Mr Jones was walking the pair of you to the chapel in the convent that was connected to the school. It was silent. Just before you could walk in, Sister Catherine had spotted you again, “Y/N! SKIRT! PULL IT DOWN!” she shouted at you. You looked her in the eye, and slowly pulled it down, finishing with a smile. “This is a catholic school, I don’t know where you girls got the idea that short skirts were now acceptable,” she huffed, before leaving you alone with Michael and Mr jones. The chapel was beautiful. It was all white marble, stained glass and hardwood pews. Fresh flowers and statues of the virgin decorated little alcoves. Above the alter, the image of the crucifixion. You felt judged under his sombre gaze. Mr Jones handed you both the materials and gave you instructions on the cleaning. He’d be back in an hour. You were left alone with Michael. He made his way to the pews and sat down, putting his feet up and his hands behind his head. You rolled your eyes and got to dusting your side of the chapel, no way in hell were you going to do his work for him. You could feel his gaze on you as you dusted away. You stopped briefly to remove your blazer. You bent over to pick up a prayer card dropped by the alter. The prayer to Saint Michael. Unfortunately, the Michael in the room was anything but. “wow, your skirt really is short,” he said. You tried to get up to pull it down, but he was behind you. “Don’t be a perv and do your tasks!” He pulled you back against his chest, his arm around your waist and you head on his shoulder. “what the fuck Langdon!” you shouted. “You are far too mouthy princess,” he brought his hand around your throat, squeezing as a warning. He started to trail his fingers up from your knee. “You know,” he started. “I never got to ask that third question last week.” His fingers reached the hem of your skirt, slowly making their way underneath, making you shiver. You swallowed. “w-what did you want to know?” He had bunched your skirt up around your hips, exposing your legs. His fingers started to trace the hem of your panties. “I want to know if you’re a virgin y/n? Is he the only man you’ve ever gotten on your knees for?” he asked, nodding to the image of Christ. You had had ‘almosts’, but never the whole nine yards. His palm came across your ass and you squeaked. “Answer the question princess.” “Y -yes,” you replied, your skin heating up. He let go of you and you breathed a sigh of relief; reaching to tug your skirt back down. He gripped your wrists before you could, turning you around to face him. “I’m not finished with you yet.” His face was so close, you could smell the mint gum he liked to chew loudly. Something made you want to lean in a little further and kiss him, but you hesitated. “I’m going to be your new messiah from now on Y/N,” he said, pushing you onto your knees. His thumb stroked your cheek, before putting it in your mouth. “Don’t bite, or there’ll be consequences,” he warned. He ran his thumb along your tongue, before replacing it with two of his fingers; thrusting them in and out your mouth. You were too captivated by his eyes to respond. The low lighting of the chapel illuminating his golden hair like a halo. He finally pulled his fingers out, connecting to your lips with a string of spit. “Keep your mouth open,” he ordered. He reached for his belt, unbuckling in. You started to shift around, the marble hurting your knees and your arousal begging for attention. He said a quick ‘sit still’ before finally pulling his cock out. It was actually really nice to look at. He gripped your jaw, forcing you to open your mouth even further, before slowly sliding it in. He hissed at the sensation of your warm mouth. “This is the best was to shut you up.” He pushed until you gaged, the sensation so foreign to you. “C’mon princess, use your hands, I’m not here to do all the work,” he said. You took the base of his cock in your hands, moving it in time with your mouth. Michaels moans echoed throughout the chapel, adding fuel to your own arousal. You felt him twitch in your mouth. He grabbed your head and pulled you off, panting. You watched his wet cock bob against his clothed abdomen. “Get up” he ordered, so you did. He pushed you back, so you were lying on the alter, looking up at the frescoes on the ceiling. The image of God looking at you in disgust. Michael put his hand around your throat, “Look at me, I’m your god now.” He peeled your panties off, pocketing them. Pervert. His hands held your thighs apart, inspecting the wetness of your folds, before running his finger through. The sensation made you jolt and whine. “Keep quiet or they’ll hear you.” You nodded. He brought his fingers up to show you your arousal, you tried to turn your head away in embarrassment, but he had gripped your throat again. He continued to toy with your clit, bringing little gasps out of you. You cried out as he thrust two fingers inside. It felt so good, his touch was electric. “You’re so tight, I think I might break you,” he grinned. He noticed the prayer card still in your had, getting an idea. “Read that little prayer out while I defile you on the alter, your final prayer to your old god,” he commanded. “I- I can’t,” you managed to squeak out. Tears were welling in your eyes. He pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean before humming. “You will,” he stated. He lined himself up, looking at you, waiting for you to start. "S-Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us i-in battle.” He pushed in, groaning as he did so. “Be our protection against�� against the wickedness and snares of the d-devil.” He began to move, thrusting into you, making you forget your words. “You’re so tight, like you were made for me,” he panted out. “May God rebuke him, we humbly pray,” you managed to get out. Michael squeezed his hand around your throat. “And do thou, O Prince of the H-Heavenly Host.” He gripped your hip hard enough to leave bruises, picking up the pace. “By the power of God,” you couldn’t think anymore. The only thing on your mind was him. He slapped your ass, “by the power of god? Finish it.” He brought his hand down, rubbing circles around your clit, you squeezed around him. “Thrust into hell S-Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the r-ruin of souls.” Michael grinned, his eyes turned black and his skin pale. You were too far gone in your pleasure to scream at his demonic face. He reached under your shirt collar, yanking your gold crucifix off your neck. You could feel your release coming on fast, Michael could too. “Let’s finish the prayer together hmm?” “Amen,” you both moaned at the same time. Your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Michael wasn’t too far behind, coating your insides with his seed. Slowly pulling out of you, watching your mixed fluids drip onto the alter. Coming out of your haze, you finally realised where you were and what you had done. “What are you Michael?” you whispered. “You read about me an hour ago,” he said, tucking himself back in, his face back to its normal state. Your eyes widened, it finally clicked. The Anti-Christ. You looked up to the crucifix above you, the statue crying blood. The faces in the stained glass twisted in sorrow. The statues of the virgin weeping blood. A wave of nausea hit you. Michael pulled you up, putting your skirt back in place. He smirked at you and pulled you in for a kiss, his tongue invading your mouth. He took your hand and placed your necklace in your palm. The cross had been inverted. “I’ll be over tomorrow, just introduce me as your boyfriend. You still have some more repentance to do.” With that he left you in the chapel. Leaving you clean up the mess, alone.

#my writing #Oneshot #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader

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generallybarzy · 5 years ago

Text

smile like sunshine

Introduction: ~7,600 words

mat barzal series

summary: A lot changes in ten years, and a lot changes when someone grows used to having constant attention, fans, and fame- so surely the boy you knew back then was long gone. Even if you had been the closest of friends that one month back in 2008, there was no way he remembers you, or even wants to talk to you anymore...

an: Here it finally is!!! I know, I know, it's super long. I was gonna split it up, but it made more sense to keep the intro in one part for the backstory and setting up the main plot and then have the rest of the story on the beach. I really hope this comes together like I want it to!

From the moment you first saw him, you knew you were going to be best friends; but what you could never know, at only nine years old, was that you were going to fall head over heels in love with him one day.

Looking back now, he was adorable as a child, but that wasn’t what your little nine-year-old mind was thinking at the time. All you were focused on back then was the sheer awesomeness of that sandcastle he was building and the overwhelming amount of loneliness that was overtaking you on what was supposed to be a fun, month-long family vacation. He was just a boy, caked in sand from crawling around on his hands and knees to construct what you thought back then was the most complex structure of architecture in existence, and you were just a girl, your desperation for a friend to play with outweighing your shyness. Your parents seemed too busy with the new babies to pay attention to you, so you had to find someone else to hang out with, and here was this boy. You had approached him hesitantly, just really wanting something to do and someone to play with other than your annoying siblings, hoping that he wouldn’t turn you away.

“Did you make that?” Your first words to him were spoken shyly, hesitant, and had him looking up at you, squinting from the sun through his dark locks of hair.

“Yeah.”

“All by yourself?” He nodded again, looking proud. “It’s awesome!”

“Thanks!” He glanced back to his work for a second before pushing himself to his feet and offering you a sand bucket. “You wanna help?”

“Yes, please.”

“Cool.” He smiled brightly, showing off a missing tooth, and you smiled back, it was impossible not to with how full of sunshine this boy seemed to be. You followed him out towards the water to scoop up some wet sand. “I’m Mat.”

“I’m (Y/N).”

It was really that simple to become friends. You soon came to find that Mat was really funny, one of the funniest people you’d ever met- and still to this day you couldn’t forget how green his eyes sparkled in the sunlight while he was laughing, even if he was just laughing at his own silly jokes. The two of you slaved away at building your sandcastle in the hot sun and laughing at each other’s jokes for what seemed like hours before your parents came over to find you playing with a new friend. Your parents and his talked- about nothing you cared about at that age- while you and Mat sat with your feet in the water, eating ice pops and getting sunburned without a care in the world.

You still thought back to that month to this day. It was still one of your happiest memories: those hot watermelon and ice pop summer days giving you sticky faces and hands and sunburnt skin, eating ice cream on your tenth birthday and skipping along the pier next to him with your moms chatting behind you, collecting shells and messing with crabs together, being splashed with seawater and laughing even though you wanted to be mad at him. That was your happy place.

One conversation you remember distinctly from later that month was when you and Mat were sitting on the beach, sifting through the sand and collecting shells. Well, you were the only one actually collecting shells; Mat thought it would be funny to sit there and throw little crustaceans at you and make you shriek. Eventually, a hush had fallen over the two of you, and Mat spoke up. “I’m gonna be in the NHL one day.”

“The what?” Mat laughed at you, but you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking about. You laugh at yourself today, looking back.

“Do you know what hockey is?”

“Duh. My dad watches it.”

“I like to play hockey. I’m going to as a job one day.”

“That sounds cool!” Your young mind couldn’t even comprehend having any adult job, let alone knowing at this age what you want to do for the rest of your life Obviously, Mat was a boy who had plans. “It looks dangerous, though, do you get hurt?”

“I don’t really get hurt much.”

“I bet you’re good at it, then.”

“I am!” You smiled and laughed with Mat and leaned over your pile of shells to hug him, the deepest form of showing affection you knew at that point.

“I’ll come to see you play one day. I promise.”

Remember when life was so simple that a sandcastle was all that was needed to spark the beginning of a wonderful friendship, even if it only lasted a month? Remember when we didn’t have to worry about grades and work and money and taxes? Sometimes you wished you could take yourself back to that month, so you could have a distraction. You’ve been looking for a distraction like Mat had been all your life- while your parents fought from the other room, while you stressed over tests in school, during heartbreak after heartbreak, while you dealt with pressure taking standardized tests or getting your first job, or moving to New York City alone only weeks shy of your 20th birthday during the summer before you started college. Every now and then you would forget about that summer, but the moment you’d stress over something, your mind just drifted off and daydreamed of that lighthearted smile, and those shining green eyes, and you hoped he was happy wherever he was.

Mat.

Damn it, you would have tried years ago to google him or something if you knew his last name, or even where he lived. Unfortunately, those aren’t topics of interest to children, so they never popped up in your conversation, and neither your mom or dad seemed to care enough to remember what they talked about with his parents, probably too busy fighting all the time, you mused.

The fall after you’d moved to New York for college, your roommate Amy, who was extremely welcoming and always made you feel at home, decided to introduce you to the sports teams of the city in an effort to get you out of your apartment and away from your work. It was just your luck, you realized later, that she was especially into hockey. You were vaguely familiar with hockey, your dad used to be a huge hockey fan in your youth, but stopped many years ago in the midst of your parent’s marriage practically falling apart. Now he only watched it occasionally, a few years behind on who was up-and-coming. “Hey, might as well learn the sport. Maybe one day you’ll reconnect with that boy from your long-ago summer romance!” She spoke teasingly, lightheartedly, always loving to hear the sweet story of your childhood best friend who had slipped away and may have disappeared forever. She was always one for cliches. You had told her many things about your time with Mat, but never used his name; no, that felt too personal, as if he was a secret for only you to know about.

“Oh, come on, Ames!” You laughed, but you couldn’t help but hope. “We were, like, ten! I don’t think that qualifies as romance.”

“Maybe not, but the way you describe him… If you would’ve met in your teens, that story would have ended with some cute, awkward first kisses.” She loved a good love story, and you smiled and shook your head. Yeah, honestly, you wish you’d known him later in your life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

So, eventually, she took you to an Islanders game, letting you borrow a blue hoodie of hers from her large collection of NHL merchandise so that you would look like more of a fan. You sat through the game with her, excited and interested and eager to learn as she kept pointing things out to you to help you understand the game. Despite it being an NHL game, you hadn’t thought of the boy that sparked your interest in the sport all night, until, about halfway through the game, you saw a name mentioned overhead.

Mathew Barzal.

You knew it was nothing. Literally nothing. There are plenty of other people named Mathew, idiot. But you couldn’t help the soft spark of memories in you. You pushed it out of your mind and went back to the game, even though something, just something was nagging away in your head. When you looked up to the screen above the ice, you caught a glance of the name again. Mathew, spelled with one ‘T’. A vivid memory pops to your head- you and Mat tracing your names and other words into the sand with sticks, just for fun, because that’s what entertains a ten-year-old apparently.

“I’m gonna be in the NHL one day.”

Mathew. One ‘T’. NHL. You knew it wasn’t that big of a deal, plenty of people probably spelled it that way, and you were probably grasping at straws, but hey what were the odds? A hockey player, Mathew. If only you could get a good look at the guy. Or… or something. You probably wouldn’t even recognize someone after ten years of not seeing them; you could hardly recognize ten-year-old you in photos! In your head, Mat was still eleven years old. Honestly, was there even a way to figure out if it was him or not? Ask him if he happened to meet a girl on a family vacation a decade ago? Yeah, and when would you get the chance to ask a professional athlete such personal questions?

...Well, tonight, apparently.

As you left your seats after the game, everyone happy and celebratory after a win, you almost had a heart attack when Amy grabbed your arm and shrieked. “Oh my God, oh my God, (Y/N)!” She pointed to her phone in shock, and you still couldn’t tell what she was reacting to, but calmed down, realizing it probably wasn’t life-threatening.

“Holy shit, Ames, are you trying to kill me?”

“Listen, listen.” She calmed down a bit, letting out a small laugh. “So let's just say someone I know, knows somebody,” You laughed a bit, knowing this was gonna be some new interesting gossip. “And they know where the players are going out to celebrate tonight.” She sent you a suggestive, winking look.

“No way. You want to go and… interact with them? Professional athletes? Us, talking to professional athletes?”

“I mean, yeah. Are you telling me you don’t want to flirt with a hockey player?” She saw the look on your face and shook her head. “Or! Or not even flirt. Just talk. Get a picture with them, or a signature? Or just let me talk and you can wave to them. I can promise you they’re all pretty nice to their fans.”

“You sound as if you’ve talked to them all before.”

“No, only one. And it was more of me talking and him saying ‘cool, cool.’ while he signed my jersey. But I always hear that they’re really sweet.”

“Well,” you thought for a moment. It would be pretty freaking cool to try and befriend a professional athlete, or even just pretend for a night that you knew them. You definitely don’t go out enough, you hadn’t really been to many bars- you had only turned 20 a few months ago and couldn’t drink yet, so what was the point? In fact, you’d barely left your tiny apartment since moving, and even though you weren’t one for bars or clubs, you were in New York City, for fuck’s sake! Might as well go out and live, right? “Alright, let’s go. But if we actually see them, you have to be my wing-woman.”

“Oh, hell yes.”

The bar you were going to wasn’t far from the rink, and according to a google search of the place, it didn’t seem too sleazy or gross- that was good. Of course it’s not sleazy, why would someone as rich as a bunch of professional athletes go to a sleazy bar? Because it was only a little further than where you had parked, the two of you walked together. As it settled in your head that you might actually see professional hockey players tonight, you started feeling a little nervous. Partially because you’ve never been in a place with that many famous people at once, but also because of the name that was still circling your brain.

“Hey, so I’ve had something on my mind because of this game.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re gonna think I’m completely crazy, but listen.” She looked up with a face, ready for your story.

“Give it to me.”

“Okay, so... this kid I told you about, that I met that summer? His name was Mathew. Spelled with only one ‘T’, I remember that clearly.” You laughed a bit, wondering how crazy you must have sounded to her. “And he told me he was gonna play in the NHL, right?”

After a second, you saw it click in her head. “No fuckin’ way. You think it’s Barzal?”

“Ames, I don’t know, I don’t know! There are plenty of Mathews who play hockey, right? But maybe he doesn’t even play hockey after all. Kids aren’t great at choosing their career paths, ya know? I just never learned his last name. I need his age or... something to identify him with.”

“He’s… like, 21, I think.”

“Yeah?” You paused. Why was this all actually matching up? “Yeah. So ten years ago he would’ve been eleven.”

“Holy shit, hoooolllly shit.”

“But I’m sure there are plenty of Mathews who are 21 right now.”

“Girl, holy shit. Look up a picture of him right now. If you had a summer romance with Barzy, I need to know immediately.”

“Okay, it still wasn’t really a romance, but same.” You pulled out your phone and typed his name into the search bar. “I don’t even know if I’ll recognize him after ten years.” Immediately after you opened the images tab, the first thing you noticed about him was the hair. Dark and thick and kind of wavy and looking extra soft in a few pictures, it did remind you of your Mat- whose hair had been full of sand and salt water and kept drying softly as he ran around in the sunlight- but you still couldn’t be 100% positive. It was after you scrolled past all the on ice pictures where you couldn’t really see his face well behind the helmet and found a picture of him- unstaged and off the ice and genuinely smiling- that you felt a strange spark ignite inside of you. Sunshine. His smile felt like sunshine. Maybe. Just, maybe.

Scrolling through other photos, your eyes caught one in particular. You opened a close up of his face and zoomed in a tiny bit more. Those eyes, shining all pretty and green in the sunlight. You could never forget them- not after ten years, and not after a hundred. His eyes, his chin, even the size of his goddamn nostrils, all the tiny, stupid details in his face… was this actually him? “Biiiitch....” Amy leaned closer to you and bumped shoulders with you in acknowledgment.

“What? Do you recognize something?”

“Kinda, yeah. It’s so weird.”

“So you think it’s seriously him?”

“I don’t know. But the last picture of his smile, I’d recognize that smile anywhere and… this. His eyes- that eye color…. I remember thinking it’s so pretty… even his fucking nostrils, Amy!” The fact that you took note of his nostrils might have been funny at another time, but you were currently having a crisis as to whether or not you were once friends with fucking Mathew Barzal.

“Yeah, I mean, they’re kinda big…”

“I… I don’t want to say that I think it’s him, that might just be me being too hopeful. But...”

“Holy shit. You might have been Barzy’s friend at one point. You could reconnect with him, and we could hang out with the players!” You shot her a look, and she knew to calm down. “Sorry. Alright, whether or not it was him, I’m still gonna get you to talk with him tonight.” You hadn’t realized that you had basically arrived at the bar, and you felt your heart start pumping you full of nerves as she opened the door. “You have my word.”

The bar wasn't too crazy- there was music playing overhead and that weird hazy bar feeling lingered in the air. Immediately you could see that there was a celebratory group of of tall men, some standing at the bar talking with each other, others talking with girls- some shared wedding bands with the women they were talking to, their wives apparently. So you figured those were the players.

“I can’t believe it.” Amy was still in shock next to you; you were too, but you needed to pull it together. “You and Barzal…”

“Well, we don’t actually know yet.” You pulled her into you by the elbow. “But please please don’t mention that to them, I don’t need them to think I’m crazy before I even talk to them.” She nodded back, but before either of you could comprehend what was happening, somebody- obviously one of the hockey players- seemed to catch her eye as they came into view near the bar. “A player you like?”

“Anthony Beauvillier.” She pronounced his name with an obvious swoon and you laughed. Oh, so this was that favorite player that she kept talking about. “Tito. Yeah. He’s cool.” She nudged you, smirking. “Oh! And he’s besties with Mat! I bet I could get him for you.”

“You? Talking to them?” As much as Amy liked to talk and wanted to meet the players, you knew she wasn’t the type to just go out and throw herself into conversation with somebody, and you knew she easily got tongue-tied- that’s where the two of you were most similar. But maybe it was just the fact that she was trying to help you out that gave her the boost of confidence to begin chasing after him. “Hey, actually, maybe we shouldn’t bother them. I’m sure they’re tired of dealing with fans.”

“We won’t pester them or anything. I’m sure they’ll see we’re not like, crazy crazy fans. Anyway we have a mission.”

“A mission?”

“Operation… I don’t know, Operation Find Mat Barzal for (Y/N).”

“Wow. Creative.”

“I know.” She laughed and smiled at you reassuringly. “Come on, both of us need to learn to be more assertive, don’t you think? We’re not annoying them, just telling them we think they’re cool, and maybe getting a picture. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.” There was nothing you could say before she was- to your horror- reaching out and tapping Anthony’s arm. You were sure you looked nervous as he turned to look at the two of you, and your friend started rambling with a big starstruck smile on her face. “Hi, uh yeah. You’re cool.” You weren’t only feeling embarrassed yourself, but also for her. “I’m a big fan!”

To your surprise- or maybe not, he seemed like a sweet guy- he smiled back at her, and you almost melted under kinda his blue eyes as he looked between the two of you. He thanked her as she complimented his performance tonight and motioned to the phone in her hand. “You want a picture?”

“Yes please!” You took her phone for her to snap a couple of pictures of the two of them, glad that this guy seemed so chill and friendly. After the picture was taken, Amy still didn’t let him leave, no, to your absolute horror, she motioned to you. “My friend here, (Y/N), tonight was the first game she’s ever been to.” You could feel your cheeks heat up when he looked over at you, but couldn’t help but smile back up to him. Oh, he was kinda really cute...

“Oh yeah? Hope you enjoyed it.”

Oh. Oh, he was actually talking to you! “Yeah, yeah. I didn’t understand everything that was happening, I’m still learning, but.. it was still really fun!”

“Actually,” you felt Amy’s arm fall across your shoulders, and you looked over at her. God, what was she planning now? “(Y/N) happens to be a big fan of Barzy.”

“Oh God, Ames stop…”

“And I’m sure she’d like a picture with him. So if you could, I don’t know… point her in his direction, please? If he’s here? And if you think he’s got time for it?” You were in the middle of burying your red face in your hands in embarrassment when you heard him laugh goodheartedly.

“He wouldn’t mind. He likes talking to his fans.”

“Really?”

“I’m sure he’ll be especially happy to meet a new fan. He loves the praise.” All three of you laughed a bit, and you couldn’t believe that you were currently chatting with an NHL player. He looked behind his shoulder for a moment, before moving aside and motioning to the bar. “He’s over at the bar somewhere, by himself for the moment. Better hurry before someone else beats you to it.” There was a certain lilt in his voice, was… was he teasing you? You smiled- but it probably looked pretty nervous- and glanced over to Ames.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She winked at you and nudged you in the direction of the bar. “Go!”

You bit your lip to hold back the growing smile at the thought of getting to talk to him, whether or not he remembered you at all. You looked up at Tito with a quick “Thank you!” before snaking around him and finding your way to the bar.

It didn’t take you long to notice him- he had a recognizable face, and you’d recognize him anywhere after looking at pictures of him for the whole ten-minute walk from the rink to this bar. He was standing at the bar, drink in his hand, and scrolling through his phone, a lock of dark hair drooping onto his forehead. His skin looked so golden in this light, as if he was back under the sun on a hot summer day- and it gave him a striking resemblance to the boy you knew ten years ago. There was something so different about seeing him in person rather than as a photo on your phone- it sparked up a weird feeling inside of you. If this was really him, it had been ten years since you last saw him, and a lot changes in ten years of somebody’s life. It may have been a strange thought but, wow, puberty really hit him in all the right places. He looked… wow. His cheekbones, his jawline,…. Okay, maybe it was kinda thirsty- ogling him like this- but you couldn’t help it.

Not only had he obviously changed physically, but he might be a completely different person. He was a professional athlete now- why would he need you anymore? That much attention changes a person. He might not be as kind as he was back then at eleven years old, he might not want to be friends with you or reconnect.

That is, if this even is him.

You swallowed down all your nerves and slid up next to where he was standing.

“You really made it to the NHL, huh?” No shit he made it to the NHL, you thought. What the fuck kind of conversation starter is that? It was a painstakingly slow moment as he directed his full attention away from his phone and towards you, and could practically feel the shot of confidence and adrenaline draining from your body when his pretty, confused eyes met yours. Oh, they’re a lot more light brown than they are green, you noticed, and you wondered if maybe all your memories of his “dazzling, gleaming green eyes” were wrong. You realized how strange you must look to him- you were just a random girl, approaching a super successful, let alone attractive, professional athlete at a bar. He probably thought you were trying to get a drink off of him or get into his pants for the clout.

Maybe you were expecting him to look up and immediately recognize you after ten years and sweep you up into a hug like in the movies, but it certainly didn’t seem like that’s what was coming.

“Yeah…?"

He looked confused- his eyebrows furrowed up a bit as he looked you over, sizing you up or checking you out or just trying to figure out why this stranger was approaching him about his career choices. Suddenly, you found it difficult to hold eye contact. Of course he didn’t remember you. Who needs to remember their one-month-long friendship when they’re busy getting into the NHL? This was really starting to make you feel pathetic for holding onto the memory of your super short friendship for so long.

Well, you officially wanted the floor to open up and swallow you. Right now would be great. "Okay… that probably sounded really, really strange if you don't remember me. Or if it’s not even you. Umm, we hung out together in 2000 something…. 2008? The summer of '08?” You laughed awkwardly, trying desperately to lighten the mood. “We were, like ten, eleven?" He still said nothing, just watching you with a strange, unreadable look in his eyes. Oh god, you wanted lightning to strike you dead, NOW. Literally anything would be better than standing here waiting for him to say something, anything! Even if he just says 'Who the fuck are you?' It would be better than silence. The silence was humiliating. "Okay, I’m so sorry. I probably got this all wrong and look like a weirdo." Right as you started to back away to run to find Amy and get the hell out of here, he held out a hand.

“Wait, wait!" His eyebrows shot up as if he couldn’t believe something, his outstretched hand reaching back to run through his hair. "Holy shit. Is it… (Y/N)?" Your heart almost stopped right there, the moment he said your name, either that or it was beating so fucking fast you couldn't feel it. He said your name. Your name. He knows your name.

"Yeah.” You watched his face relax into a gleaming smile. Like sunshine. It’s him. You knew it now. “So I’m not crazy? It's… it’s actually you? Mat?"

"It's actually me." For the first time since you set foot in the bar, you felt yourself relax completely, and although you hadn’t had any alcohol, you felt all warm and fuzzy inside. Jesus, it was actually him. You crossed your arms on the bar and lay your forehead down on it. "Sorry, I just, it took me a second. I should have recognized you sooner.” You laughed a little bit into your arms at the sheer craziness of the situation. He still had that same warmth to him, the way he was always able to make you feel happy and safe, like when he distracted you on the beach while your parents were yelling inside or when he went too far trying to scare you with crabs and had to hug you and promise you he’d protect you from them.

“I can’t believe this.” You lifted your head to look back up at him, and he had a wide smile spreading across his face. “We actually ended up in the same city ten years later without even knowing each other’s last names.”

“Holy shit. Ten years? I feel old. Sometimes it feels like just yesterday.” Your heart soared at the idea that he still thinks of you- of the fun you two had together that summer. He took a sip from his drink, going quiet and just staring at his glass with a smile.

“You still think about it?”

“Sure, sometimes. I wonder how you’re doing, and where you ended up. I guess you ended up in New York.” He looked back up at you, eyes catching yours and gleaming all honey-hued golden brown and sending butterflies straight to your stomach. You could barely contain yourself, it didn’t matter that this was Mathew fucking Barzal you were talking to because to you he was still just your Mat, and that was even better. The sandy little boy with scraped knees. You couldn’t help but imagine how many people would kill to be in your position right now.

“I guess I just thought you would have forgotten about that summer, considering how successful you are now and stuff.”

He shook his head, smiling softer and reassuringly. “C’mon. I could never forget about that. It was my favorite summer to date.” He extended an arm and dropped it across your shoulder, pulling you in closer- no closer than two friends should be, but much closer than you ever thought you’d be to someone of his "social rank". It wasn’t any closer than you’d been in the past, but you were children back then. Now, you were young adults with hormones. He was a man. You would be crazy not to notice how warm and built he felt under his hoodie from obvious years of playing hockey, and there were dirty thoughts spinning around your head as soon as his large hand dropped to your arm and the dizzying scent of his cologne hit your nose. “You want a drink?”

You blushed and stuttered, shaking away any indecent thoughts. “Uh, I- I can’t. Yet.”

He seemed confused for a moment before laughing. “That’s right! You're a year younger than me, right? Aww, you’re still a baby. Can’t even drink yet.” He ruffled your hair gently, careful not to actually mess it up, and called the bartender over and asked for a glass of water, making sure to let him know that you weren’t old enough to drink yet. You could only laugh, remembering how much he loved to tease you back then. He obviously hasn’t changed in that department. “Ya know, you could’ve just DM'd me or something as soon as you found me. You didn’t need to dramatically approach me in a bar.”

“Well, I did kinda only find you tonight,”

His eyes went wide with a smile. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, like an hour ago. Listen...” You launched into your story as to how you came to realize that your long lost friend was NHL star Mathew Barzal, and how you didn't actually know who he was as a player. He actually listened intently, unlike any of the disappointing boyfriends you’d had in the past. Man, whatever girl he gets is gonna be lucky. “I wasn’t sure if it was you or not. I spent the entire walk here looking up pictures and trying to decide if I actually recognized you or if it was just my brain being hopeful.”

“Wow. I guess I’ve changed, huh?” He rubbed a hand across his face, still smiling that stupid, beautiful smile that made you all nervous, and your eyes followed, tracing over the familiarity of his features- from his eyes up to his hair and down to his chin, maybe lingering for a second too long on the way his lips looked so soft and tender right now, curled up at the corners into a little smirk.

“Not that much, actually.”

You hadn’t realized how intimate that moment seemed until he caught your gaze, smiling cheekily, and you were pretty sure he knew you were just checking him out. “Lucky for you, you got to skip past my awkward teenage years.” He lightened the mood, poking fun at himself like he knew how to do. Brushing the hazy hot feelings out of the air and blaming them on the rush of meeting your childhood friend after all these years, you reached for your water in order to cool the fire inside of you and the blush on your cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sure I would’ve loved to see that.”

You and Amy were over the fucking moon when you went home that night. You had exchanged Instagram handles and said your goodbyes to each of the men you had been talking with- she claimed to have been talking to Tito for the rest of the night and honestly, you’d believe anything at this point, after learning that your childhood romance- ahem, friendship- was with Mat Barzal. It took everything in you not to shriek like crazed fangirls. As soon as you got out of the bar, the realization finally hit you that you finally found Mat, and meanwhile, Amy was starstruck, having spent the night actually talking to NHL players and actually holding solid conversation.

“Holy shit please tell me everything! Right now!”

“Ames…” You could have told her what it was like to talk to him, disregarding anything in your past, the way he listened intently and made you feel like the only person in the world when his eyes were on you. You took her hands and looked into her eyes seriously, “Ames, we were right.” Okay, so much for not shrieking. Your friend threw her arms around you, jumping up and down for you. You couldn’t blame her, everything that happened tonight was crazy.

“You’re telling me that the kid you hung out with at ten years old has evolved into the one and only Mathew Barzal? Did he remember you?”

To be honest, it had taken everything in you not to try and drag him home with you or go home with him. He was intoxicating in all his warmth, the way his nose scrunched up, and his eyebrows arched when he smiled. The way he threw his head back when he laughed. The scent of his cologne had buzzed around your senses all night, clouding your judgment and making you want to say “fuck reconnecting as friends” and jump him right there. In fact, it still lingered around you after being pulled against his chest all night, and part of you wondered if it was the alcohol in his system, though not enough to make him drunk, that caused him to wrap his arm over your shoulder. If you had maybe harbored a tiny crush since your summer with him, it was heightened times 100 because of tonight.

You could tell that reconnecting with him- and eventually becoming friends again- was going to take a lot of self-control if you were gonna feel like this the whole time.

“Yeah. And he wants to catch up tomorrow. He said he’d DM me.” Amy was in the middle of shrieking in joy for you when, as if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and the first thing you saw after opening it was a message.

barzal97: Get home safe :)

“Girl, he loves you!” You laughed and shook your head as she shook your shoulder and patted your back, “You snagged yourself a hockey player!”

After you left, Mat didn’t see any reason to stay out longer. He almost couldn’t believe it- had someone slipped something in his drink? Was this just a dream? But then he opened Instagram and scrolled through your Instagram momentarily after DMing you and stopped on a picture of you and your friends, it was clear- he’d found you. You’d found him, more like. After ten goddamn years. It felt like a movie. You still had the same vibe, he could feel it in him the moment you were beside him. What was it…? Familiarity. Warmth. Comfort. Nostalgia. Whatever it was, it was you. After taking a moment to reflect on everything that had just happened, he was quick to finish his drink and find his friend, wanting to head home and prepare for his little meetup tomorrow.

As he was heading out the door with Tito, Mat knew he needed to confide in somebody. “You’ll never guess what happened.”

“Does it have something to do with that girl I sent over?”

“(Y/N)? You sent her over?”

“Yeah, I was talking with her friend. I noticed she didn’t come back after going to look for you.” Mat noticed the suggestive tone in his friend's voice and felt his face go pink at the thought of hiding away in a bathroom to make out- and maybe more- with you.

“No! Nothing like that. She was my friend when we were kids.” He had a serious look on his face, and Tito knew that Mat wasn’t kidding about this. “Really. We have a crazy story. We met ten years ago on vacation. We hung out for a month, and I haven’t heard from her since. I didn’t know her last name or anything, and she didn’t know mine, so it’s not like we could look for each other. But she found me.”

“Wow. She just said she was a fan.”

“Well, wouldn’t you think they were crazy if they told you that story.”

“It does sound like a movie.” He laughed a bit, patting Mat’s back. “So, what’s the deal with her now? Friend? Do you liiiike her? Do you like-like her?” The teasing tone in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“What are we, in middle school?” But he still shrugged, sighing. “I don’t know. We’re going out to catch up tomorrow.”

“Ooh.”

“Shut up.” He went silent for a moment, wondering over his question. Did he like you? He wasn’t sure. “Ya know, she’s with me in almost every photo from that summer. That’s how much we were together.”

“Well, if you guys hit it off, you should date. I don’t need a competitor for best friend.” It was a joke, Mat knew and smiled at it, but he honestly couldn’t shake the idea of dating you. No, no, he’s only feeling this way because he hasn’t seen you in a while. It’s nothing but a bunch of resurfacing memories.

Hopefully, anyway.

The two of you really did hit it off the next day. And the next. And the next. And the next. You still got along just as well as you did when you were young, and maybe even better, now that you were adults and had more interesting things to talk about. He was funny, even funnier than he was as a child, and despite your original thought that the fame of being in the NHL must have changed him, he was actually kind of modest and shrugged and smiled with a pink flush on his face when you brought up his accomplishments. It was easy to be with him. He could talk and talk about his life and still keep you comfortable, inviting you to tell your own story, gushing over accomplishments that felt so small to you.

And that one catch-up date ended up being months and months more of friendship.

Friendship with Mat was one of the best things that ever happened to you. He was the ideal friend, he listened to you and kept an eye on you and pushed you out of your comfort zone when it was necessary. He loved hearing you talk about things you enjoyed and tried his best to find joy in your hobbies, even if he thought some were funny or boring. He was sweet, endearing, teasing. And it wasn’t long before he began bringing you out on casual outings with some of his personal friends, gushing and getting really into telling the story of how you were separated for ten years and reunited by maybe fate, maybe luck, who knew.

The only problem was that you wanted him to kiss you.

You wanted him to kiss you when you went out with him and Tito and Amy on Christmas, singing carols together and teasing him, asking him to sing louder because you loved the sound. You wanted him to kiss you on New Years, when you stood hand in hand in Times Square, shivering and smiling with red cheeks, but instead settled for a hug. You wanted him to kiss you after returning from his first All Star game in January, you wanted to congratulate him on being an All Star, because he spent so much time praising you and you wanted him to know he was just as amazing. You wanted him to kiss you when he was drunk on his 22nd birthday, all red-faced and giggly and dancing in the nightclub with a red solo cup in his hand and that stupid snapback on that made him look like a frat boy but suited him so well. He was hugging you to his side with one arm and, even like this, you were just praying that he would lay a messy, drunk kiss onto your cheek.

You just wanted his lips on yours. So, so bad.

But despite that, behind Amy, who was still holding onto the title of best friend, he was always the one you went to when you needed comfort or a companion or a distraction, or just to talk about certain things. Things like this.

A week after his birthday, seven months into your friendship, you showed up at his door without warning, slumping against the doorframe when he opened it. “I have a problem.”

“With showing up unannounced? Yeah, I know.” He was joking and smiling, but maybe you missed it with how stressed you were. When you didn’t respond, he must have noticed the tired, strained look on your face and his happy expression dropped. He let you into his apartment, snaking an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. It wasn’t an odd thing in your friendship, he was always a touchy guy, especially when you were down, and you always welcomed it. He pulled you over to sit at the island in his kitchen and sat across from you. “What’s wrong?”

“I got a voicemail from my parents today.” You were already pulling out your phone to play the voicemail for him. Ever since that one month on the beach eleven years ago now, you and your family had been going back every summer for a week, up until four years ago, when you suddenly had a summer job and couldn’t afford to take a week off. You missed the beach, sure, but you definitely didn’t miss the way your parents would always find a way to argue and fight. Now, they were calling you and asking if you could come along this year.

“I think I’m missing the problem here. What’s so bad about a beach trip?”

You sighed and lifted your head. “Well, I want to go, and I already got my boss’s okay to take that week off. I really miss the beach. But my family is just… so overwhelming sometimes. I could try to hang out alone the whole time, but I’ll go crazy before the week is over.” There was a pause as Mat leaned back in thought, considering his options. Was this crazy? Was he crazy for doing this? Definitely. But, fuck it, ya know?

“I can come with.”

You scoffed. "No way, I'm sure you have other plans."

"Not really. Not that week." He saw the look on your face, and he really didn’t want you to have to deal with your family all alone for a week. "Look, I'll pay for my share of the trip, and I won't bother anybody." You laughed. There's no way Mat could go a week without bothering anybody. He laughed along, glad to see you happy. "Seriously. If you need somebody, I'll be there."

And that was it. That was how you ended up on a beach trip with the one and only Mathew Barzal, eleven years after you first met..

The first few hours of the trip down were blurry. Your family, in true vacationer nature, decided that all of you, your parents, siblings, you and Mat, should carpool together. So, at 8:00 AM, you loaded into the car, your parents up front, obviously, your younger twin siblings behind them so they could be monitored, and you and Mat in the very back. This was definitely a bad idea, 100%, but you couldn’t help the giddy feeling that sparked up inside of you when you told your family you would be bringing a boy along. Or the feeling you got when you looked at Mat sitting next to you, looking worn out and sleepy after six hours of travel-rest stop-travel-gas stop, with four more hours of travel left and suggested he try to get some sleep. You slept through the rest of the day, only waking up for bathroom breaks and rest stops, until eventually, you woke up around six in the evening with your head on Mat’s shoulder and his body angled towards yours, snoring softly and looking ever so soft.

“Mat, Mat wake up.” You shook him gently, laughing at the way he was drooling a little bit. He blinked his pretty eyes open and looked around, a little dazed.

“Are we there?” His sleepy, mumbling voice was so cute.

“Technically, yeah. But we can’t get into the rental house until tomorrow morning. So we found a place to sleep.” He groaned, his eyes slipping shut in protest, and showed no sign of moving from his seat. “Come on, you’d rather sleep in a real bed than this car, right?”

Those words had him slipping out of the car, his eyes half shut and holding your hand loosely, dragging his feet the whole way as you led the way to your shared room. He looked so cute in this outfit, grumpy and soft in a tee shirt and shorts and his hair looking extra messy. There was nothing you wanted to do more than sleep, but one detail had you stopping in your tracks as you opened the door. Your parents had paid for three rooms- one for them, your siblings, and you and Mat- and of course, since your parents hated each other and apparently can’t stand to sleep in the same bed anymore, you and Mat got stuck in the room with one bed. Mat didn’t seem to care though, as he dropped his slides by the door and immediately collapsed in the bed, falling asleep almost immediately after mumbling for you.

“C’mon, (Y/N), get in...”

As you dropped down beside him in bed an appropriate distance from him and tried to ignore the sleeping beauty beside you, you began wondering if this whole trip was a bad idea. No, no way, you quickly pushed that thought away. This was Mat, your Mat, and you’re actually on the beach again with him. You fell asleep that night with a smile on your face, listening to the soft snores of the man beside you and trying to imagine what your week had in store for you.

Realistically, there's only one thing you can predict about this trip- it’s gonna take a lot of self-control.

#i feel like im really gonna be proud of this fic #smile like sunshine #mat barzal #mathew barzal #nhl writing #mine #my post #op #fanfiction #imagine #fic

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orionsangel86 · 4 years ago

Text

Hey Everyone,

As you have probably noticed, I have neglected this blog for a long time now. I haven’t been on any fandom related social media at all actually. But I figured since I am currently in a good mindset, I want to write a post just outlining some things which basically boils down to a goodbye letter to Supernatural fandom.

Long rambling post below the cut...

This year (and the last) has just taken it out of me in terms of general negativity online both in fandom and in the real world. At first I got tired of fandom (mostly because Twitter is a cesspool of policing and bullying) and then I got tired of everything else (the world sucks right now, and my mental health basically stopped me from being able to participate in any form of online activism – just because I’m not blogging about something, doesn’t mean I don’t support the cause ya know?). Earlier this year, right around the time of the UK lockdowns, I had surgery and a recovery period in which I spent a lot of time with family, and just reacquainted myself with the real world. I think perhaps the coronavirus pandemic made me realise that long before lockdown began I had already been isolating myself from my real life and diving further and further into an online black hole.

It was years in the making. Supernatural fandom preoccupied my thoughts for such a long period of time it got to the point where every moment of my non working time seemed to be spent either online scrolling my tumblr dash or twitter feed, or reading fanfic or doing something fandom related. I invested so much of myself into this show and fandom that I think I forgot who I was before I was a Supernatural fan completely.

After my wake up call in late 2019, which lead me to break free from an extremely nasty clique, I have tried to re-enter fandom on my own terms, as well as attempt to enjoy the source material and the fandom creations to ignite some new spark of love and interest in the show. Yet as much as I have tried, I have failed to do so.

I was thinking recently about someone I used to follow years ago before I ever created a blog. When I was still just lurking in the tumblr shadows and followed the likes of Mittens, Lizbob, and other meta writers of the period, there was a blogger whose name I can’t remember but she was the funniest blogger I had come across. But when the show killed off Charlie Bradbury, she quit. I had never even interacted with her, as I was barely getting my blog started at the time, but I’ll never forget a post she wrote about her feelings on the show. She had recently started watching something else (I think it was Sense8 but can’t recall entirely), and that this new show had given her everything she had never thought she could have from her fave before. She wrote about how her relationship with Supernatural had become abusive. That for years the writers of Supernatural continued to throw punches at fans like her – women, LGBTQ+ people, people of colour, and yet she continued to give it all her time and attention, brushing off the punches because she was so damn devoted to the characters. Then this new show had come along, and it was like she had seen the light. The killing of Charlie Bradbury was the last straw, and she dumped Supernatural’s ass and fled into the arms of her new love.

I hope she is doing fantastically today.

What she wrote has resonated with me for years. I was a fairly new Supernatural fan at the time, and therefore didn’t really understand what she meant. A TV show can’t be abusive. Can it?

Of course, we are speaking in metaphor here, and in no way are these metaphors meant to reduce or limit the truly serious situation of actual abusive relationships, but every now and then, when a new episode of Supernatural has left me feeling upset, disappointed, frustrated and grossly let down, in some cases affecting my mood for days at a time, and therefore my mental health. I have thought back to those words she wrote and quietly agreed with them in my head. Yes. This is a metaphorically abusive relationship.

When I discovered earlier this year that Castiel was most likely going to be killed off in some sort of bullshit self sacrifice before the end of the show, I was extremely distressed. When I found out that my favourite person of all time Misha Collins, supported this ending for Castiel, and may have even been the one who pushed for it, I was more than distressed, I felt betrayed by the person I cared about most. I’ll admit to you all now that in my weakest moments I have fantasized about standing in front of Misha and screaming at him exactly just what kind of affect his “ideal ending” for Castiel will have on his fanbase, on their mental health, and potentially their own safety. This fantasy has me guilt tripping him and doing everything in my power to make him feel utterly shit about the decision. I know what you are thinking – don’t blame Misha, the guy has his own problems and we all know he projects his own self esteem issues onto Cas – and yes, I know this, like I said its only a fantasy to get me through my darkest moments. I don’t hate Misha at all. But perhaps I do love him a little less nowadays than I did back at the height of my fandom life. That’s at least still a little bit more than my feelings for Jensen and Jared which now I can only describe as complete indifference.

I am admitting all of this now knowing full well it will ignite shock and anger among the more die hard fans of J2M, to explain why I need to just leave this fandom completely, or more accurately, why I have already left fandom.

Over the past 10 months of 2020, I have watched a lot of TV (there isn’t much else to do during a lockdown when you are on crutches with your foot in a cast!) and the one thought that occurred to me over and over again was “this show is so much better than Supernatural”.

I kept comparing everything I watched, from the quality of the scripts, the actors, the special effects, to the inclusiveness of the shows. Just so many beautiful and interesting stories that seem to understand their audience, and understand how to entertain and impress without resorting to cringe humour, outdated jokes, and prejudice, not to mention misogyny and queerbaiting – yup, I said it.

The thing is, I think these thoughts have been creeping over me slowly for longer than just this year, but I have been desperately batting them away the way Dean Winchester bats away his own gay thoughts. Unlike Dean though, eventually I couldn’t ignore them anymore. I cannot continue to carve out space in my own soul for this show, which incessantly beats me down regardless of my devotion. The creators, the network, the writers, and sometimes even the cast, have all shown that they don’t care about me as a fan. I’m not some gun toting dudebro living in middle America, so why should they give a damn about me? I’m clearly not their target audience, nor have I ever been.

I know many of you will vehemently deny my personal opinion of Supernatural now. That is absolutely fine. I am sorry to be admitting it, but I had to. I feel like once I finally write out these words, I have got it off my chest and can close and lock the door on Supernatural for good.

Without Supernatural, I am able to focus on my real life, I am able to find pleasure in other things, new things, interesting things, that bring me joy and joy alone – not disappointment and frustration. I found a new job this year, which has been a huge accomplishment as I was stagnating in my old one, and several new hobbies under my belt. I moved to a new flat, I have a lovely flatmate who has been a godsend throughout lockdown, and I have rekindled friendships that I was neglecting due to my Supernatural obsession.

All in all, I am finding post-Supernatural life far more rewarding and content than my life in fandom. It has taken me a while, but I am over the show. And whilst I will always hold a special place in my heart for Castiel, it will be as I know him in my own mind; as the wonderful, strong, powerful and determined angel with a soul, who loves so strongly, and who is worth so much more than his own creators give him credit for. He is up there with Aziraphale and Crowley, with The Doctor, and Buffy, as one of the greatest characters of all time.

So the Supernatural writers and creators can take whatever ending they have decided upon, and shove it up their asses. I am sorry to say that Sam and Dean Winchester are also lost to me. Any love I had for them was destroyed by their later season depictions. Castiel alone is the only character worthy of that space in my heart now. If in time he longs for a companion, I will find one for him, but it won’t be the Dean Winchester of the canon show. Canon Dean hasn’t been deserving of Cas for a long time now.

Perhaps I am still a little bitter about the ending. Perhaps the finale won’t be the disaster I expect it to be, perhaps Dabb will somehow turn it all around last minute following whatever travesty Bucklemming have given us in 15x19. Either way, I won’t be watching.

So this is me saying goodbye to this blog, at least until I have decided what else to do with it. It certainly won’t be a Supernatural fandom blog anymore. It wasn’t all wasted though. I did get a wonderful friendship group out of this fandom, and I have certainly expanded my knowledge of film and television analysis, as well as having enjoyed a great many memes.

I guess in the end, my internal war with my inner bitter Cas girl finished with her winning, and writing this post. Once it is posted however, I will put her to sleep with thoughts of a happy Castiel, who has swapped his wings for a beating human heart, and is living on a beach somewhere beautiful, refurbishing an old Victorian house, and greeting his kindly elderly neighbours. There’s a gay bar on the main strip, and the bartender is quite a dish. Green eyes and light brown hair with a killer smile. Castiel thinks he looks familiar, like a memory from a past life, but they’ve definitely never met, because this man is kind.

Now that she is asleep, there is nothing left for me here. Goodbye everyone. Whether you manage to enjoy the finale or not, I truly hope you too, find your peace.

#personal #a goodbye message to fandom

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uwua3 · 4 years ago

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yoohoo!! may i ask for some soft hcs of tenma and his s/o on a summer night? thank u n ily 🥺💕

MELELELELELEL 🥺 i,,, i Love You. of course i will write this for you because i Love You ♡ I LOVE YOUUUUUUUU 🥺🥺🥺

summary: school’s out! that means a beach day with your boyfriend, tenma!

author’s note: everyone go check out nervwrecked right now she’s the Funniest Person on the Planet i promise you!!! she is the best i love her so much ♡ this turned more into a beach day into night hc so i hope you don’t mind, mel !!!

Tenma Tenma Tenma Tenma Tenma. that was my entire thought process, i just love beach!tenma so much and i went a little crazy. sorry about that~ tenma has such a specific, chaotic energy to me and i had to write about it

word count: 3,632

music: lightning in a bottle – the summer set (please mel this is the most perfect song ever, you’d love it!)

summer nights.

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

school was out and life never felt so good!

the moment that last bell rang, tenma sprinted outside of the academy with his emerald green uniform blazer flying behind him

“freedom! no more school!” tenma shouted into the horizon, ignoring the judgemental looks he got from students who were, you know, leaving normally

“tenma! wait up!” you sprinted after him, jumping onto his back as tenma instinctually caught you with his arms supporting your legs around his waist

(you did this so much, he started purposely turning his back towards you so he could catch you)

looking over his shoulder, tenma grinned as he adjusted his grip and started heading out to the sidewalk to walk home

“how was your day?” tenma asked, feeling you hum as you rested your head against his shoulder. tenma almost tripped over nothing, his cheeks burning as he averted his eyes to the clear, sunny blue sky

“okay, better now i have my boyfriend to carry me wherever i want.” you held onto his dress shirt loosely, your nose fitting perfectly with the curve of his neck. he smelled sweaty, he obviously tried way too hard in gym and it showed

tenma grinned, pretending to yawn as he lightly loosened his hold, making you slip down out of no where as you squeaked, tightly holding onto his shoulders

“my bad, sunshine. seems like i’m a bit rusty at piggyback rides.” tenma nonchalantly teased, but tensed when he felt you freeze against his back. did he say something wrong?

tenma puffed out one cheek, wondering if he should push aside his pride and apologize before you reached over and pinched his cheek, smiling sweetly

“sunshine?” you watched as tenma’s face turned red and he nudged your hands off. tenma huffed, wanting to die and fall into a black hole on the street so bad. he could say he didn’t mean it—

“i like it.” you whispered, returning your head on his shoulder. you couldn’t stop smiling; tenma was so precious even if he acted like he was some hotshot. tenma was just so cute when he acted like he didn’t care about romance (he did, very much. he tried very hard)

“it’s been so sunny recently, too. i miss going to the beach.” you mumbled, absentmindedly playing with his tie. you two reached the part of town with plenty of trees, providing shadows to cool down from the summer heat

tenma slowed down by the vending machine, popping in a coin to pass you your favorite drink. you couldn’t see his face, but you knew it was blushing as his hand slightly shook passing you the can

(he remembered, how cute)

“let’s go then.” tenma coughed into his arm, rushing the words so they were hard to hear. you tilted your head, staring at his face as he stared directly ahead of him. tenma pressed a button at the crosswalk, waiting for the walkimg light to let him pass

“what?” you asked, pretending like you didn’t hear him the first time just to poke fun at his shyness. tenma kicked at a stone beneath his shoe, rolling his eyes as he looked at your shit–eating grin

“you heard me the first time. we can go now if you want.” tenma raised his eyebrow, knowing he had you hook, line, and sinker. the predicament was perfect: there was no more homework to keep you both up stressed, no more finals to cram for, and certainly no more classes keeping you guys apart. it was time to catch up on all those dates you missed from school events

“have i told you you’re the most perfect man ever?” you teased, but genuinely laughed when his face got even redder. of course, child star tenma, who got compliments and praise everyday couldn’t handle it when you said something nice. it was endearing to see what an effect you had on him

“shut up.” he muttered, letting you down gently as he phoned his private driver an update to his plans

you sat down on the bench, innocently drinking your drink as you glanced around at the sunlight streaming through the leaves

(tenma mid–conversation blanked, turning to see you completely at peace. he softly smiled, admiring the way you glowed in the summer sun before his driver called his name, making him jump slightly before stammering back a quick response)

(you caught his eye and you both tried your hardest not to laugh like two crazy teens in love)

you arrived at the beach with excitement to match your beloved boyfriend’s rare enthusiasm

(tenma kept asking if they were there yet, backing down when he noticed his driver send him a sharp glare. he leaned on you for reassurance, pouting like a little kid)

tenma wore his classic pair of oversized sunglasses that did nothing to hide his identity, passing you your own, from the trunk

(yes, you even had matching ones! he had bought them one day after throwing a whole tantrum about losing them. when they arrived, tenma acted like he just found his “lost” pair when in reality, he just liked matching with you)

(he’d never admit it, though. no matter how much evidence you had against him, he was a stubborn soul)

in case of long rides, you two liked singing your heart out to the top 50 songs on the radio. the driver always turned it up so he could block out tenma’s terrible attempts at hitting the high notes as you hyped him up

(yes, it hurt your ears. but you were just as bad just to make him hold his stomach, hunched over laughing and wheezing)

this time, you two fought to see who would get out of the car the fastest just because. you made a rule to wait until the driver completely stopped the vehicle at the beach’s frontier

“i don’t want you to die on our beach date, tenma!” you reasoned, seeing him internally malfunction from realizing it was really a date

(he agreed, like immediately)

(“you’re so right.” tenma said, like he wasn’t aware of his own actions and nodded very, very seriously)

“alright kids, we’re here—” the driver started before both of you immediately lunged for the car handle like 5–year–olds. screw the rules!

“last one to get out is a loser!” you yelled, trying to open the door before you felt your window hit something very tenma–like

“why?!” tenma yelled as he fell back onto the fence, pretending to pass away as he stuck his tongue out, laying his arm across his forehead

“leave me here... don’t look back... even though you’re a loser for getting out last.” he choked out, coughing for the dramatic effect. all he got was a kick in the shin

(“ow! will you do this when i get best lead actor?!”)

“come on winner, time to not embarrass me in public.” you joked, pulling him up by his jacket collar and—oh. you frowned, looking down at your own uniform

“tenma.” you said carefully, watching as he owlishly blinked up at you. this kid was seriously the embodiment of “no thoughts, head empty”

“yeah?”

“we’re still in our school clothes.”

tenma quickly grimanced, letting out a very loud “ew!” as he shook off his blazer and threw it behind him without thinking. it tumbled into the sand dunes, rolling away

“and that’s for making me feel stupid, school!” tenma yelled, standing proudly on top of the stone ledge as you slapped your forehead. this kid...

“tenma... you still need that for next year.”

(you two had to spend five minutes running after a blazer that seemed to have a mind of its own. tenma winced when he pulled it out of the ocean and it dripped with sea water. his parents weren’t gonna be happy)

(you didn’t have the heart to point out his wet pants as well)

you two came to an overpriced beach shack as you thumbed through hawaiian–themed dad shirts and revealing swimwear. you decided to choose something for tenma, finding the most questionable denim jacket that would fit tenma’s taste perfectly

you snuck behind him, about to give him the biggest scare of his life before you saw a flashy shirt in his hand. tenma seemed to have the most oblivious face ever, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked over the design

(he was holding two shirts and you realized it was in the couples’ section)

“would they like this? maybe i’m being gross...” tenma sighed, about to put the shirt back before you tapped his arm, holding the denim jacket in front of your face

“ta–da! we can match!” you cheered, knowing you would wear this very peculiar jacket if it meant tenma would be happy

(it did. his entire face lit up like it was christmas in july)

“yeah! i mean, yeah.” tenma lowered his voice, clearing his throat as he debated between showing the shirts before tossing one to you like it was the most coincidental thing in the world

“i mean, only because you want to.” tenma pretended like he didn’t care, but only looked away when you didn’t buy it

you shrugged, tucking the clothes under your arm as you gestured towards the mannequins wearing snapbacks

(tenma loved snapbacks)

“oh? you don’t want to? i thought maybe we could’ve gotten matching snapbacks but...” you were about to head to another display before he grabbed your shoulder, his eyes wide and face about to have a breakdown from admitting his own feelings

“don’t make me say it...” tenma begged, but you weren’t backing down, just smiled as he dramatically refused to say what he wanted and went to go retrieve two snapbacks without another word

you two went in opposite changing rooms and he came out first, smacking the beach hut door against the wall loudly as he struck a runway–worthy pose

he looked ridiculous. the denim jacket was luckily thin so it was breathable, the patches were just too loud and had so many out of date slang terms that were only popular in 60s america. the shirt was white with a neon rainbow palm tree with a wave and the snapback had a rim around it like a hula skirt. it was very fun in the sun

tenma was about to complain about how much he looked like an idiot and you had no fashion sense before you stepped out, and he was breathless

you looked just as dumb, maybe even more, but the fact you two were matching was enough for tenma

(tenma didn’t even say anything. he just stared, came back to his senses, and quickly shuffled to the cashier)

(he paid willingly. your jaw dropped. he didn’t even flinch when he heard the price)

you two strode out onto the sand confidently. seconds later tenma started hopping up and down

“why is the sand so hot?!” tenma yelped, forgetting he was wearing sandals in deep sand as repeated, “ouch. ouch. ouch.”

you sighed. he was such a big baby

you moved closer until you swept him over your shoulder, carrying him fireman–style with ease as you marched through the sand to an available umbrella the driver reserved in advance

tenma recovered from his moment of shock before he started smacking your back lightly, kicking his legs wildly

“let me down!!! i can walk!” tenma tried to roll off, but you just laughed. better this than hear him complain the entire walk over

you suddenly noticed the ocean that wasn’t very far away

you tried to walk normally to avoid suspicion, but tenma started connecting the dots when he saw the umbrella and towels in his view

why were you were going further away?

“hey, isn’t that—” tenma got cut off by a loud splash! as he quickly resurfaced, a defiant determination to his face for a split second before he faked a convincing frown

(you were doubled over losing your mind, unable to believe he fell for it)

“sunshine~ it’s so cold, help me!” tenma whined, reaching his arm out as he pretended to shiver. you paused, considering your options before you sighed (you definitely didn’t do it because of the endearment). you swam out a little more, putting your hand out. tenma grabbed your wrist with vengence

splash!

now both of you were in the ocean as you gasped in air, about to accuse him of tricking you before more water splashed in your face

tenma swam across from you, his snapback at the coast and denim jacket very heavy now

“tenma. stop.” you warned but more water hit your face, again

he watched you with a mischevious grin, you wanted to wipe the smirk right off his face

you smiled, moving in closer as tenma’s breath hitched, your lips just inches away before you dunked his head underwater

he pulled you with him, laughing even though he was supposed to use as little oxygen as possible

his hair floated around his head, the bright orange resembling coral and vivid purple eyes gleaming with childish euphoria

(you finally gave him the kiss he deserved when he made a heart with his hands)

(he made a surprised sound and bubbles floated out of his mouth when you pulled away)

(you literally made him speechless)

when you two came back to land, you insisted on drying tenma’s hair as he spluttered, unable to form intelligent words for the life of him

(you dried his hair with a crab towel, liking the way he sighed comfortably and leaned into your touch)

after settling down, you chilled out on the beach chairs with fresh coconuts

(tenma insisted he could crack one open. you didn’t bother telling him they already had holes in them)

lazing about on the beach, you two talked about how awful school was as you ate tropical fruit that came in the bag the driver took out from the back

(tenma denied ever planning a beach date, but you gave him the “really?” face when you held a beach ball up to him)

(he just shrugged, looking at his nails. “i love playing volleyball anywhere, what can i say?”)

it was so relaxing to spend the whole day on the beach! you went looking for seashells and tenma trailed behind you obediently, holding your pail out every time you excitedly yelled “look!” when you found something

(tenma didn’t get the hype, but he tried to match your energy)

tenma liked the sea glass though, proudly showing it off unprompted and believing 100% it came from a secret, undiscovered civilization like atlantis

(tenma must really not pay attention in school if he didn’t know about littering)

you two even had a sandcastle collecting competition! it was clear tenma didn’t know how to make one for the life of him, so you two worked together to create one

(he fantasized about mermaids. when you wrote your name and his at the base of the castle, he swore sirens were real when you sang off–tune a random melody while putting seashells on the sand)

later on in the day, you two were chatting about your plans for the summer as a seagull came up, staring at the bag of chips in your hand

tenma was about to point out the bird (he never noticed them before) before it snatched your chips, happily waddling away with its newfound treasure

before you could even react (or tell tenma this was normal), tenma used his athletic skill to absolutely outrun the seagull, yelling nonsense about rights to food as he nearly jumped onto the seagull

“tenma!” you called his name, wide–eyed as you watched tenma chase a singular seagull around the beach shouting profanities about giving back your chips. yep, that was your boyfriend

(at the end, tenma got them back even though most of them fell out when the seagull tried flying away. tenma caught the seagull with his two hands, holding it tightly as he shook it, demanding it released your chips)

(it didn’t, and tenma had to yank them from the seagull’s beak)

everything after that, went smoothly. definitely a lot more relaxing after witnessing your boyfriend almost fight a seagull in your honor

you guys even had a friendly game of volleyball at the beach’s public net, forcing his driver to be the referee that seemed to be in your favor

(“the ball was totally out!” tenma protested [it was] as you scored the point, leaping up to high–five the driver. stick it to the man!)

(you won with a landslide. you got a double popsicle as a prize, and you split it to offer tenma the other side. it made you smile seeing your favorite orange–haired boy with a popsicle that looked exactly like him)

time passes when you’re having fun! night began to settle in, as you yawned and rubbed your eyes tiredly. you were dozing off in the beach chair, trying your best to stay awake after a long day at school

“tenma, maybe we should go home?” you suggested before you heard two sticks being scraped together. oh no, tenma was up to something again

you weakly opened your eyes, seeing a very frustrated tenma trying to create a fire

“tenma?” you questioned, sitting up from the chair to see a bunch of sticks surrounding your boyfriend who looked just as confused as you were

“uh... i don’t know how to start a bonfire.” tenma admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood up, kicking the sticks with no remorse

“that’s okay! we can just head back—” you started but tenma furiously shook his head, very opposed to the idea

“no! i mean... let’s stay a little longer, okay?” he offered no explanation as he tried again, but to no avail. you didn’t know what to do when he kept glancing at his watch and up at the sky

“ok, you know what.” tenma held your hand as he pulled you to the coastline, stopping as the water surrounded your ankles

you were about to ask if he was okay, before a boom! electrified the sky

it was summer, alright. colorful fireworks exploded before you out of no where as you couldn’t help but gape at the sight

(the timing was too convenient)

“you planned this... for me? why?” you were amazed by the fireworks show, wondering how many contacts tenma had to reach out to

your face was illuminated by every color possible, the fireworks reflected in your eyes as tenma stared, wondering how he got so lucky to share his first summer day with you

(tenma would have gotten you fireworks everyday if it meant you were this excited)

you were about to say something, anything to remember the moment before tenma squeezed your hand

“i like you so much.” tenma whispered, staring at the way you impulsively blushed, turning to look back into his eyes

tenma got on one knee

“oh my god...” you were shell–shocked. was tenma proposing? you guys were both still in high school, how would this affect his career? you were about to pull him up before he popped back up with a seashell between his fingers

“look! it’s a big one, too!” tenma shoved the sand dollar in your face. you blinked. and took it out of his hand, flabbergasted

“thank you.” you slowly said, trying to wrap your head around his denseness as he proudly rambled about how he was able to find such a cool seashell

“kidding.” tenma teased, giving you a thin ring with your birthstone in the middle. you froze, staring at the jewelery as he looked up at the sky, listening to the distant booms and wondered how many people were staring up at the same sky

(tenma sneaked a peek at your face. he knew he had the best view, though)

“i saw this and thought of you. maybe it can be our promise ring, to be together.” tenma’s words left his lips hesitantly, ignoring the one thing he wanted to finish with. he wanted to promise to be together, forever

you were about to respond, speechless from the romantic gesture before a rather large wave almost knocked you off balance

you let go of the ring and heard it drop into the ocean as you and tema stared at each other

“um. the promise is still on right?” you asked, nervously laughing as he looked back down at the ocean and up at you

“uh... this kinda ruined the moment, didn’t it?”

(you two bent down immediately, digging through the sand for the ring as the fireworks began to die down. as a firework blew up, tenma breathed a sigh of relief as the ring glinted in the orange light)

(he wouldn’t admit it, but it was very expensive)

he slipped it onto your pointer finger, admiring how your hands perfectly fit his. it was like he was born to be in the ocean with you, watching the summer night sky

tenma was about to say something about how he actually got the ring size right before you pulled him towards you, grabbing his god awful neon palm tree tee shirt. you kissed him under the glow of the last firework of the night

tenma squeezed your hand again, smiling into the kiss as you ran your thumb over the palm of his hand

(if mermaids weren’t real, they were super jealous of him right now, they had to)

(the most beautiful person alive had two legs and was walking on land, and was kissing him! out of all the people!)

you leaned back, savoring the moment as the stars shined above you in the deep blue sky

“sparklers?”

(tenma looked like he was having flashbacks)

“i really like you, but no.”

#sumeragi tenma #tenma sumeragi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #tenma x reader #a3! tenma #a3 tenma

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