#i’m gonna draw true colors soon guys it’s on my mind

[phibsies]

swap broppy doodles from last night bc i miss them 💔

[godlytransurfer]

HOW I MANIFESTED MY FIRST SP AND FOUND THE POWER OF IMAGINING AND PRAYER - PART 2

(PART 1 HERE)

At this point I was cackling in my head. All the good feelings and scenarios I had visualized were so factually, objectively true. Reminding you, I was a kid, I had no idea of what this would mean about my power later in life, but I knew God had amazing ways, and I was interested in learning them all.

I did date my main SP for two weeks or a bit more, but after a while I did start to think as a person, although he was very dedicated and sweet, absolutely obsessed with me, he wasn’t exactly what I wanted in certain aspects. It wasn’t anything he did that was inherently bad, just what me and my friends assumed of some ways in his personality that weren’t so in flow with mine. As for his other friend, we were friends and bonded over drawing and so on.

I unfortunately decided to break up with my SP, as I also decided to induce new changes in my life, aka my parents moving to another place. As soon as this happen, I didn’t exactly have the assumption that he would take it well, so he didn’t. He was angry but I understood it was because he was very heart broken, as I realized this was how you could completely consume someone’s mind. I always assumed I was the best, so that was the inevitable truth. As soon as this happened, his friend decided it was a good idea to try to hang out with me more often. I was flattered because I was so loved, but for some reason something in me told me it wasn’t worth it to insert myself in this any longer. I had gotten to understand the ways of god Anyways and I got to meet them. It was good enough for me, specially as someone who was soon moving. The next school year, he ended up failing a subject so he was put in the same class as I was supposed to be. He became friends with one of my guy friends, and my poor friend was always going back and forth to deliver me his messages because he was STILL obsessed with me. I then later realized this was a very strong thing we could create with our imagination, even though it felt so weird to feel the end of bonds with people. In a way, I could sort of feel the pain others felt when I left them over the years I learned to do this. I also realized the reason he even probably ended up in my class was something my subconscious did for me, in case I had stayed in that town. After that, I still occasionally went there for vacation to hang out with friends, but I was scared he was gonna find me irl and say some wild stuff, I was feeling bad and embarrassed, because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Because I focused on that so much, he did actually pass the same street as us one day. But because I told myself we would both normally move on and that he was going to be okay, he didn’t even have the guts to look at me and kept on walking. As a socially anxious person at the time I was very relieved neither of us went crazy.

Now you might ask me, why are you telling us a story of literal middle school times, what about now? What about 3P situations? Well here’s the thing people... it’s not as different as we like to think it is.

As I grew up and kept living my life, although I am extremely picky, I quickly assumed this was a thing that would always work, and that no matter who I saw or what was going on, as I asked god and swore he heard me, something always happened throughout those situations where my targets got their way completely cleared and became absolutely obsessed with me. It was like being a star, it felt amazing, specially at an age where so many people feel self conscious. I’m not gonna lie, I was always a stubborn person for the things I wanted. I had a lot of “audacity”. I quickly decided to celebrate myself, tell myself I was gorgeous, smart, the most interesting, and I would dress myself up as my own dream girl and do my hair, color it, whatever made me feel like I was THAT GIRL. That was basically kept the same for all my life. If there was someone else in the way, I always told myself I was better and that no one could compete with me. If I was insecure, I would tell myself I was loved, and that no matter who showed up as perhaps almost being “better” than me, I told myself: IT DOESNT MATTER. Because if I desire it, it means it desires ME. It means it’s FOR ME. AND NO ONE ELSE IS ME. So the funny thing is that we use beauty and hobbies to feel good, we use many things perhaps. But it’s not even that that makes us special and interesting, although it can seem like in in this material world. It’s because you believe you are what you want to be. That’s how you convince yourself, and how you convince others. I always still thought I had a few flaws but that despite them, I was still the one and only.

As I am now a young adult, I never really had many problems with SPs because I’ve learned this very young. However, I am a perfectionist, even if I learned to develop compassion for myself. Because of that, the few times it didn’t work for me, it was most likely because I was dissatisfied with myself even when I saw them completely head over heels with me. Or when I started to get dissatisfied about sharing my interests or lack of them, or thought about my success in jobs or school. Also I then started to realize just because I could get most of the people I wanted, it didn’t mean they were all people I would admire to have as a partner. Then I became more “closed off” until I found individuals with characteristics that rang a bell to me. This was obviously before I literally realized what law of assumption concretely was, or who Neville Goddard was. I just believed in god and had huge faith. I believed in a good happy ending for me. Now after the law I have 2 main SPs. I have many guy friends just because I’ve always felt comfortable with them, and it allows me to get to know them properly before I decide on anything, besides the assumption world. If I don’t want them as lovers, they are still amazing friends to me. My first SP I created from scratch, and although I don’t put him on a pedestal I love him to pieces because he just hits so precisely on everything. He even knows of the law. So everyone, if you think creating people from scratch is a lie, remember: for me that became one of the easiest things to do. You can even watch movies like Ruby Sparks if you doubt it. I can make people even remember me from things that literally “never happened” and prioritize a bond with me just because of it. I assume it’s burned in their minds. It is that easy. As for my second SP, I have been involved with him. Usually I wouldn’t have 100% gone for him, as there were some boxes that weren’t initially ticked, but I will be honest here, I did it because I found out you can revise and change certain aspects of individuals and I was eager to test it out. Please if you are doing something like this, make sure you have the persons feelings into account and that you will treat them well. Remember that although they were generated by you, they are still human beings. Don’t fall into the trap of disassociation with that one. I had to fight some resistance and change the old story, but I know regardless, that god hears me and he hears you. Things will always work out if you allow them to. The point of telling you this extensive story of my experiences, is the following: Believe God, yourself, your subconscious has heard you, no matter what. It will clear the path and make a way out of no way. Even if there’s no void methods involved. You deserve to be happy, you deserve to be chosen. It will never matter what’s out there that seems to intimidate you, because you are it baby. It is for you, and NO ONE ELSE WILL EVER BE YOU, AS THE HUMAN YOU ARE CURRENTLY.

[writingforyourpleasure]

I have a thing for Car wash

Genre: NonIdol!AU, SummerJob!AU

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Summary: You do car wash as a summer job each year. But this year , 7 new employees are added to the mix.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none

A/N: Thoses Butter's concept photoshoot are gonna be the death of me ...

______

Summer’s Job never been dreamy or appealing you always preferred to stay home and play games or hangout with your friends.

You were doing the same summer job from your high school’s years throughout your UNI years, this year was the last year where you could work at the same gas station you usually spent your summer’s at. You were quite happy about this news because your work there wasn’t really enjoyable to say the least.

You were working as car washer.

The staff was limited to you and Gladys. Gladys was an Australian grandma’ with an heavy accent and a loud voice.

You used to complain about the underpaid job and understaff issue to her each year , but even if she tried her best to pay you more each year, the problem of understaff was remaining.

Plus you had the marvelous advantage , note the irony, to be a woman. So of course you had some guy every now and then asking you for some porn kink including cars and water to you.

And of course as soon as you dared to say to them that it was not respectful of them to ask for such favors , well their ego feeling insecure will make them insult you ‘til Gladys will come out and try to dissolve any trouble. And if they didn’t leave… well then Tallulah will come help you out. Were Gladys was a true perfect cottage core granny , Tallulah her spouse, was a weightlifting Olympics coach. So she was , massive and looked very frightening.

But since she was often occupied most of the time Gladys would have to do the trick , and if too much persistent she would call her little brother Jeff a policeman always coming in and out of the shop to check on things.

It was nice, for a summer or two, but seeing as it’s been years since you were first introduce to this summer’s job to say it became painfully annoying was an understatement.

And this year would be the same…

Or so you though.

Gladys finally took your complains about the car wash job being understaffed and recruited a few people to help out .

When she said a few, you though she was talking about 2 to 3 people.

But no, no non no no no. Gladys took in 7 people !

She promised you your check wouldn’t take any damage by the presence of those new employees , but you sincerely doubt that.

And of course you’ll have to show them around and proceed to show them how to wash a car because of course it’s not like anybody could know how to do it by themselves.

You were moody when that tons of information’s felled down on your head, but now finding yourself in front of the 7 new employees changed everything.

Apparently Gladys misspelled car wash job for model’s photoshoot coz’ those 7 boys were for sure way too beautiful to need a car wash job.

It had to be a prank, right?

So being more self aware in what you’ve been for years you showed carefully those men of to do the job. And no it wasn’t cute or sexy, far from it.

You were dressed in your yellow hoodie and black jogging with flip-flop.

For once you wished you had were those fucking shorts looking like panties more than anything, and a crop top or something similar, like all those freaks watching too much porn often asked you to.

But no , and those guys were dressed in matching outfits in jeans and whites tee.

Even if they were very dreamy swoon over , you had more pressing issues to think about.

Like why one of them started a water fight with another one, and putting a stop to it before one of them put soap into their eyes.

“Okay guys!!! Please stop …? I don’t want to have to report you to Gladys on your first day okay? So keep that behavior for when you’re on your own okay?”

“Sorry , we didn’t meant to …” Said one.

“Huh sorry to interrupt , but none of us seems to have catch your name earlier ?” Said the guy with blue hair.

You liked his hair, it was nice, like blue waves , more darker on the edges and lighter on the center of his scalp. He had such beautiful eyes too, so sharp an-

Oh god , wait did you really lost yourself by admiring him?!

“Huh miss???”

“Y-Yeah !!! Haha my name’s Y/N !” You extended your hand , losing your mind for talking in a higher voice to him , good job at not being suspect Y/N….

And you hated yourself even more for being awkward by presenting your hand to him. But he, on the other hand sensed your discomfort and made your move seem completely normal shaking your hand lightly and giving you a cute smile showing off his dimples.

“Namjoon,…. And those two are Jungkook and Taehyung, and I hate to be the one breaking it to you but we’re probably gonna have a hard time keeping them calm.”

“Oh… Okay” You just ended , looking to the two guys involved in the previous water fight, and looking back to Namjoon’s face. He was calm and put you at ease. Hargh you were staring , good job on not being a freak Y/N .

The one all covered in jean from head to toe approached you, and ever so silently spoke to you.

“Hate to be a bother Y/N, but can I have a bucket to wring out my sponge, please?”

“Huh Yeah of course huh-hu….”

“Yoongi’s the name…”

“Oh huh well yeah let me get that from Gladys to you okay I’ll be back in just a sec Yoongi.”

He nodded very calm much to your dismay as you were starting to feel anxious about advising Gladys for more employees, maybe you should have just shut it.

You entered the store who basked in a sunny light as the morning was starting to begin for most of other people’s in the city.

At the register was one of the new employees, he wore a plaid skirt and converse’s with a white thee and jean shirt. You couldn’t believe how gracious his lips draw themselves on his face. They looked pillowy and as dreamy as the six other’s man out there waiting for you.

“Huh hello ? You might remember me from earlier ? Y/N the foremost employee?”

“Of course I do you’re the sweet mango! “

“I’m sorry what ?”

“The sweet mango ! The color of your sweatshirt look alike a mango!”

“I-I Yeah it does…”

“Would you like another nickname maybe? I’m sorry if this one doesn’t fit your style haha. What about little mouse ?”

“Do I look like a little mouse ?”

“No ,you look like a fucking rat”

Said another voice coming from behind you.

“I beg you pardon?”

You turn over to the masculine voice behind you to find yourself facing a chest. Your eyes flew up to the face of the stranger, ready to take down any bratty client. And you were surprised to face a smiling shit eating brunette man glancing down at you . He was snickering and looking at you like he was mentally undressing you with his eyes.

“Yah ! Jin ! Don’t be rude to our new friend!”

You look down to the content in his arms, some sandwiches squeezed between bottles of water.

“Wait your on job duty ! Why aren’t you with the others ?” You started to take over yourself and focus on your task, keeping everything organized.

“Some of us forgot to bring our lunch to work this morning , so I volunteered to go for it , but you’ve been blocking the line too preoccupied to talk to mister big flirt over there.”

He gestured at the cashier.

“We weren’t flirt-“

“You totally were!” Gladys interrupted you coming out from the back of the shop with several boxes of energy bars .

“Gladys I would ne-“

“Don’t lie to me girl ! Okay Jimin go fill up the shelves with those and Jin , you’re lucky you have a nice face, it’s on the house for today so go back to work will you now?”

“Sure thing Gladys! Thank you so much !” He offered her a wink before smirking down at you , going back to his devices.

“AND SHE DOESN’T LOOK LIKE A RAT! BUT YOU SURE TALK LIKE A BRATT!!!” Shouted Gladys at Jin, while a girl was approaching him to take care of her car and asking for his number. He was a blushing mess and Tae had to intervene to talk an eligible sentence to, the poor lost girl, after that.

“Now, Y/N what do you need sweetheart? I mean other than Jimin’s number of course?” She had said it loud enough for Jimin to hear it and bringing a cute smile on his face content of his accomplishments.

“Gladys please stop. “ You warned her with a tired face. She maybe looked old but she was fearless for sure .

“I need extra buckets for the boys, please.”

She leaved the register for what felt only two seconds before bringing over 5 extra buckets for you , to share.

“Thank you , you’re a life savior!”

“I know , should have started a sect when it was trendy.”

You left laughing to her dumb joke , but not before quickly glancing to Jimin. After that event you formed three distinct groups between all of you to get their heads in the game.

But with Jimin busy with helping out Gladys around the store, one of them was standing by himself.

“Okay since your alone I’ll help out for today.”

“Really? Thank you so much I was worried I’ll found myself alone when everyone’s having fun in groups.”

You looked around to indeed found them more busy playing around then actively work in silence .

“Yeah well normally having so much fun isn’t part of the job but I don’t want to kill the mood.”

“I’m Hoseok by the way but you can call me Hobi ! “ He said with a heart shaped smile.

“Y/N. Haha did you had to see Jimin assigning you a nickname too?”

“No this one’s for my crushes .” He said glancing up at you with stars shining eyes behind the comfort of his sunglasses.

“Yah! Hobi Does it mean I’m one of your freaking crushes?!” Yelled a not-so-speechless Jin , across the parking lot.

“Why don’t you come found out ?!” Yelled back a way too enthusiast Hoseok.

The day went by pretty quietly apart from those 7 agents of chaos you were stuck with from now.

Lunch came around pretty quickly and you all went to the back of the shop to have your break there , enjoying the nice breeze of the fan, while chatting.

“So , how come you’re all working here this summer?” You asked between bites of your meal.

“My aunt knows Gladys and told me she was recruiting , and since I was in need of a job I took it.” Said Jimin looking at you oh so charmingly.

“I have a thing for car wash.” Said Jin like it was completely normal.

“Your such a weirdo something hyung I swear… I was in need of a summer job saw the flyers by the campus and thought why not ? Here I am.”

Replied Jungkook slowly slurping down his noodles.

“We wanted to prove some sexist asshole that , no it wasn’t , a job only reserved to women.” Said a disgusted Namjoon swallowing quickly his part of the sandwich.

“I want to be a social entrepreneur.”

Said Taehyung leaving you with wide eyes.

“How is that related to bein-“

“If I succeed to make this place a rentable place from just the car wash then I could do anything.”

“And how would you do that ?” asked Jin dismissing his lunch to look over at Taehuyng.

“What about a photoshoot?”

[crackheadgeminibby]

first meeting

pairing: chris evans x black!reader

warnings: language, age gap, fluff

word count: 1.4k

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

“Chris! Come on, we’re already late!”

“Yeah, gimme a sec!”

“You said that 30 minutes ago, what are you even doing up there?”

You take off your heels and coat and climb up the stairs. As you’re approaching your shared bedroom with Chris, you can hear him groan loudly and sigh. When you open the door, you see that Chris’ entire wardrobe is spread out over the bed, dresser and floor.

“Jesus Christ, Chris, what the hell is going on in here?”

“All of my clothes are either old, dirty or ugly. I literally have nothing to wear. I can’t go meet your parents looking like a fucking dumbass!”

You snort lightly and start laughing but quickly stop when you see his face.

“This isn’t funny”, he says while narrowing his eyes.

You smile and laugh slightly and say, “I’m sorry, it just kinda is… The first thing you wore was literally fine, Chris. Just put it back on so we can leave.”

“No…”, he whines. “My shirt was a weird color, your parents are gonna think I don’t know how to dress myself.”

“Chris, it’s fine, I promise. We’re just going to dinner and my parents are going to love you. They literally couldn’t care less what you show up in.”

Chris looks at you with a desperate expression for a couple of seconds before sighing loudly.

“Fine, I’ll be down in 5 minutes.”

“Finally! I’m gonna wait for you in the car.”

You go back downstairs and go to your car when you hear a new text message coming in.

dad, 5:50pm:

Hi honey, is everything okay? Are you guys getting here soon?

You softly smile at your dad’s worry.

you, 5:51pm:

hey dad everything’s fine

i couldn’t find my wallet but we’re on our way over now

see you in 20

You’re turning your music on when you see Chris closing and locking the front door. As soon as he gets in the car, his leg starts shaking up and down.

“Chris, it’ll be fine, I promise”, you say softly, while smiling over at him.

He gives you a tight-lipped smile and nods his head slightly.

As you’re locking the car and walking over to the restaurant’s door, you take Chris’ hand in your own and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. You look over at him and ask,

“You ready?”

“Not really, but it’s now or never, right?”

As soon as you approach the restaurant, the hostess opens and holds the door for you. You slide into the restaurant while thanking her and immediately take Chris’ hand again, knowing that it calms him down.

The hostess smiles warmly at you and asks,

“Hi! Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes! Y/L/N for 4, there should already be two people here.”

“Yes, absolutely, let me show you to your table.”

You follow the hostess to the back of the restaurant.

When you had started dating Chris a year before, you were confused as to why he never seemed to want to go to the restaurant with you. After a particularly animated conversation, he had admitted that he didn’t want people to see you together at the restaurant because they would automatically start talking about you and he didn’t want your relationship to be as public as his previous ones had been. Since that day, you had picked up the habit of always asking for a table in the back of the restaurant whenever you went out together.

As soon as you see your parents, you feel your smile growing as well as Chris’ hand getting even clammier. You look up at him and smile warmly, trying to give him a final boost of calmness before meeting your parents.

Your dad is the first one to see you and as soon as he does, he gets up from the table and meets Chris and you in front of the table. You let go of Chris’ hand and engulf your dad in a bear hug. 25 years old or not, you were still a daddy’s girl, just like when you were a kid.

You normally saw your parents every month or so, but you had been so busy running around for work lately that you hadn’t seen them in over 3 months.

“Dad! I missed you guys so much, oh my god!”

“Hi, honey. We missed you too”, your dad answers while chuckling lightly.

You let go of your dad and reach over to hug your mom as you see that your dad is looking Chris up and down while Chris is just standing to the side.

“Mom!”

“Hi, baby. How are you?”, your mom asks as you’re letting go of her.

You smile warmly and put your hand on Chris’ arm.

“I’m doing great! Mom, Dad, this is Chris, my boyfriend. Chris, these are my parents.”

Chris smiles tightly and says, “Hi Mr. and Mrs. (Y/L/N). It’s really nice to meet you both”, Chris says while shaking the hand that your dad is holding out to him. He holds his hand out to your mom, but she smiles warmly at him.

“Nonsense. Come give me a hug!” Chris then awkwardly shuffles over to your mom and hugs her. You snort lightly at his clear but unnecessary discomfort.

After letting go of Chris, your mom walks back to her chair, followed by your dad. Chris takes your coat and then pulls your chair back for you to sit. You smile at him and softly thank him.

As Chris sits down, he immediately reaches for your hand under the table and starts to play with your fingers, as he often does when trying to control his anxiety.

Your dad clears his throat and asks, “So, how did you two meet?”

As time passes and drinks go by, Chris gets visibly more comfortable and even starts to crack some jokes. Despite your dad’s obvious overprotectiveness at first, even he had started to loosen up and laugh at Chris’ jokes.

As the waiter drops the check at the middle of the table, Chris and your dad both reach for it. Chris immediately smiles at your dad, “I’m the one who invited all of you to dinner. The least I can do is take care of the check.”

You see your dad hesitate before he gives his approval nod and removes his hand.

As Chris is paying, your parents start to get up and prepare to leave. You also get up and put your coat back on as Chris finishes paying.

Your dad smiles at Chris and shakes his hand, both clearly more relaxed than at the beginning of the dinner, while you hug your mom.

“It was really nice to meet you, Chris. Hopefully, we will see each other again soon, right (Y/N)?”

You playfully roll your eyes at your dad’s comment. “Yes, Dad, I know.”

You tightly hug your dad while your mom gives a warm hug to Chris.

“I’ll see you guys soon, okay?”

Both your parents smile back at you and tell you to get home safe.

Chris picks his coat up from the back of his chair and stretches before putting his arm around your shoulders as you take his hand in yours.

“You see? It wasn’t that bad. My parents literally loved you!” Chris scoffs lightly.

“Yeah, after your dad spent like 10 minutes giving me a death glare. I almost peed my fucking pants!”

You laugh heartedly at Chris’ comment before answering, “Come on, he’s just being protective of his little girl.”

“True. Can’t blame him for not wanting my beautiful girlfriend to be with just anyone.”

You playfully roll your eyes, “Yeah, wait until we have a baby girl. See if you won’t beat up any guy that looks her way.”

Your breath hitches slightly as you realize you just implied that you wanted to have a family with Chris.

He stops walking as you reach your car and lifts up your chin.

“Hmm… Is that so? A mini (Y/N) Evans. I think I can see that happening, yeah?”

A smile draws itself on your face as Chris’ words register in your mind.

“Yeah”, you chuckle as Chris bends down to kiss you.

[drabbles-mc]

As Soon As I Can

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Request from @alienstardust​:  Umm All the angst in those childhood prompts. I’m a fan! Yes! <3 Maybe something with Nestor? 💫 thank you

I went with this prompt from This Post: When Person A and Person B were kids, Person A broke their arm and had to wear a cast for a while. To make them feel better, Person B decorated it by drawing a bunch of doodles and quotes all over it. When Person A finally got the cast off, they asked the doctor if they could keep it. Years later, Person A takes the cast to a tattoo artist and gets all of Person B’s doodles and quotes tattooed onto their arm so they can wear them forever.

Warnings: language, angst, hospitals

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: I looooooved writing this. Writing has been tough for me lately but this just felt really right. This is my first fic where I’ve done a lot of time skips within the story so hopefully it flows alright. Hope you guys enjoy! xo

General Mayans Taglist: @garbinge​ @mayans-sauce​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @paintballkid711​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @queenbeered​ @sillygoose6969​ @sesamepancakes​ @yourwonkywriter​ @chibsytelford​ @gemini0410​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @plentyoffandoms​ @georgiaaintnopeach​ @twistnet​ @themoonandthewicked​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @encounterthepast​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @rosieposie0624​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @blessedboo​ @holl2712​ @lakamaa12​ @masterlistforimagines​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @crowfootwrites​ @redpoodlern​ @punkgoddess-98​ @black-repunzel99​​ @lexondeck​​​

You and Nestor were sitting in your back yard, sprawled out together under the one tree that managed to survive so many years in the California heat. You were laying on your back, cast-bound arm lying rigidly out to the side. You were staring up through the leaves as you listened to Nestor talk.

“At least they let you pick the color,” he was next to you, laying on his stomach as he dug through his backpack.

You laugh was heavy with sarcasm, “Yea, if I’m not gonna be able to move my arm for the next eight weeks it’s the least they could fucking do.”

“You sound bitter.”

You looked over at him, “I am bitter.”

He chuckled and shook his head, he was about to come back with a witty remark when he got distracted by finding whatever he had been looking for. He smiled as he pulled it out, “Aha!” he held up his pack of Sharpies.

“What’re those for?” you nodded towards the markers.

“For your cast.”

“You’re gonna decorate my cast?” you had to laugh.

“Yea,” he was carefully choosing a few different markers to start with, “Maybe it’ll make you feel better about totally eating it falling off your skateboard the other day.”

You laughed as you reached over and shoved him with your good arm, “Shut up—like you haven’t fallen a million times.”

“No casts for me, though,” there was a cocky smirk on his face.

“No casts for me, though,” you mocked as you tried not to laugh.

You watched him in semi-silence as he started at your wrist and slowly but surely made his way up your cast, covering it with all sorts of doodles and quotes. Sometimes you forgot how artistic he could be. You went back and forth between watching him and just resting your head back and closing your eyes. Neither of you kept track of the time as he stayed sprawled on his stomach beside you. the two of you probably would’ve stayed out until dark if your mom hadn’t stuck her head out and said that Nestor’s brother was there to pick him up and bring him home. Nestor threw all of his things back into his bag before helping you up.

Once he was gone, you took some time to actually look at the cast. You smiled at the amount of work he put into something that you were only going to have for a couple months. Your fingers traced lightly over the many marker lines that now covered your cast. Your mother looked over your shoulder at the artwork, a smile passing over her lips for a moment.

“Did Nestor do that?”

You nodded, not taking your eyes off of your arm, “Yea.”

She nodded, “That was sweet of him.”

You scoffed trying to suppress the smile on your face, “I guess.”

The next eight weeks passed by. And, despite the fact that having your arm in a cast was incredibly inconvenient, it could have been a lot worse. Nestor walked with you to all of your classes, offering to carry your backpack despite the fact that you told him that your busted arm had nothing to do with your ability to carry a bag. Whenever the two of you were together and things were quiet, he would keep adding onto the tiny mural that was your cast. Sometimes you wondered how much more he could fit on it, but he always found a way. For as much as you wanted it off, you were going to miss the bonding time for the two of you. And you were going to miss the artwork, too.

“So,” the doctor smiled and nodded at you, “you are all good to go. We can get the cast off and you’ll be as good as new.”

“Yea?” the thought of having your arm back made you feel giddy.

“Absolutely.”

You felt like a new person once your arm was free of the confines of the cast. Letting out a sigh of relief, you rotated your wrist a few times and carefully ran your fingers over the freshly-exposed skin, glad to feel like you were back in control of your own body.

“I can get rid of this,” your doctor held up the cast he’d just finished so carefully removing, “Unless you want to keep it as a momento.”

“Um, actually,” you felt your face heating up as you avoided eye contact with your mother, “Could I keep it?”

The doctor nodded, smiling as he handed it over to you, “It’s quite the work of art at this point—I understand wanting to hold onto it.”

On the drive home, you felt your mother glancing over at you every couple of minutes, a knowing smile on her face. You tried to ignore it but eventually you broke.

“What?” you were careful of your tone.

She laughed quietly and shook her head, “Nothing. Just, I think it’s nice that you’re keeping it, that’s all.”

“Mhm,” you tried to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks again, but that only made it worse.

You never told Nestor that you kept the cast. You never really knew exactly why you didn’t tell him—the two of you told each other pretty much everything else. The two of you spent almost all of your free time together, and as soon as he found out that your cast had been removed he was dragging you right back out to do things that could potentially break your arm all over again, and you let him. He never asked about the cast, so you never brought it up. There were moments, as the two of you got a little older, where you wanted to mention it to him in passing that it was something that you kept, but the moment never seemed quite right. Each time you went to clean out your room and your closet you would come across it, and each time you were faced with the decision of whether or not you wanted to keep it, and you always did. You always told yourself that you didn’t know why, but you knew.

--

“Alright,” you were trying not to let yourself get too emotional as you sat cross-legged on his bed watching him pack “You can’t do anything stupid while I’m not around to yell at you for it, alright?”

He chuckled as he shoved another shirt into his bag, “Trust me, there will be plenty of other people around to yell at me. That’s the whole point of—”

“But they can’t do it as well as I can.”

He glanced over at you, a small smile on his face. He knew how upset you were despite the fact that you were still being supportive. Him going into the Navy was something that you hadn’t seen coming. The thought of him being gone for so long after the two of you had spent so much of your lives practically joined at the hip was a bit jarring. You knew the ache in your chest was caused by more feelings than you were ready to admit to him, or to yourself.

“It’s not like you’ll never hear from me.”

You huffed, “Snail mail is not the same as bothering you in person,” you flopped backwards on the bed, “And for the record I still think it’s bullshit that you don’t get to call me.”

He laughed as he stood up and sat on the bed, looking down at you, “Don’t be dramatic. I’ll be in basic for less time than you had that stupid cast on your arm.”

“Yea but it’s not like you’re coming right home after that.”

He nodded, his expression sobering a little as he continued to look at you, “I know.”

“You’ll come home to visit me as soon as you can?”

He chuckled, nodding, “As soon as I can.”

For a moment you thought about spilling your guts—telling him everything that you were thinking and feeling. There was something about the way that he was looking at you that made you feel like maybe he felt the same way. But the confidence that shot through you went away as quickly as it appeared, and the moment passed as he continued to pack his things.

True to his word, you got letters in the mail. You saved each one, kept them stashed away in your closet alongside the cast that was still there collecting dust even after years of being shuffled around. You sent more letters than you received, not that you really minded. You figured that he needed them more than you did.

However as the months ticked by, you waited for him to say he was coming home, but he never did. It was one thing right into the next and the more time that passed by, the more you wondered if this was how he slipped away from you, even though he swore that that wouldn’t happen. He reached out when he could, when he had the time. And you knew that he had other priorities, and realistically you did too. But there was still part of you that felt like things were changing too much.

Your heart sped up inside your chest when you got a late-night phone call from him. You scrambled to answer it, “Hello?”

“Hey,” he sounded exhausted.

“Hey,” you pulled your blanket up to your chin as you spoke to him, “H-how are you?”

“I’m alright,” he sighed, “It’s good to hear your voice.”

You smiled despite the weight settling in your chest, “It’s good to hear yours too. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

You didn’t want to push and pry, but you couldn’t help asking, “When are you coming home?”

There was a long pause before he spoke up again, “I, uh, I don’t really know.”

“Don’t they give you guys leave or something?”

He let out a tired chuckle, “Yea. But, um, I’m not sure if I’m going to be coming home for leave anytime soon.”

Your heart crumped inside your chest, “Why not?”

“Got some shit that I’m working on lining up here. Doesn’t hurt to stay close.”

You hated that your bottom lip was beginning to tremble, “Right.”

He knew you too well and you could hear the shift in his tone, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” you replied immediately, “Fuck, don’t be sorry. I’m proud of you, really. Keep…keep doing your thing.”

“Thank you for always being there. It’s been…it’s been nice knowing someone is in my corner when no one else seems to be,” there was a beat of silence, “You seen my family lately?”

You took a deep breath, “No. Why, everything alright?”

He sighed, “Wouldn’t know.”

You pressed your lips together into a tight line—things had never been simple for him when it came to family, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ll be home to see you as soon as I can be, alright?”

Your breath was shaky as you exhaled, “Alright,” you were about to say goodbye but your brain betrayed you, “Hey, Nestor?”

“Yea?”

“I love you,” the words fell from your lips, free of their confines after so many years of locking them away.

It might’ve been you projecting, but you could’ve sworn that he let out a sigh of relief, “I love you too.”

--

That was the last thing that you’d heard from him. He went radio silent after that. You wondered if it was just you that he was ignoring, but no one seemed to have heard anything from him—his own family included. The only things that were running through your mind were terrible. All of your calls went unanswered, all of your texts went unopened. The letters that you sent didn’t get kicked back to you but you never got responses to any of them either. He had blipped off the radar seemingly without a trace and you had no idea why. You lost a lot of sleep over it but at the same time, life didn’t stop for anyone. You had to keep moving forward while a very large part of you was stuck in the past.

You were packing up your room, getting ready to move into your own apartment. You were throwing things from your closet into random bags and boxes—organization had never been your strong suit. As you were leafing through everything, pulling things down off the top shelf of your closet, you were smacked in the face with a stack of papers. You managed to catch them before they hit the ground, tears instantly springing into your eyes when you realized what they were. Your heart sped up inside your chest as you stood on your tip-toes, reaching for the very back of the shelf. The feeling of the plaster underneath your fingers sent a shock through your body as you pulled it towards you. Looking over it, you were bombarded with an onslaught of memories.

Packing fell by the wayside as you sat on your bed, reading through the letters and looking over all the artwork that was still holding up on the cast. How you managed to keep your tears from falling, you didn’t know.

There was a light knock on your door and you looked up, trying to make yourself look much less upset than you were. The smile immediately dropped from your mother’s face when she saw what you were doing, how it was upsetting you. She leaned against the doorframe as she tried to figure out what to say to you to try and make things better.

“I’m sorry, honey,” her tone was sincere.

You shook your head as you set your cast to the side, “Don’t be. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You hadn’t really spoken much to her about it all—there wasn’t a whole lot to say. You didn’t have any answers and with each day that went by it was less likely that you would ever get them. It was difficult to tell whether or not it was more reassuring for you that no one had heard from him, not just you.

“There’s nothing to talk about. He just fucking disappeared, I guess. I just need to accept it and get on with my life.”

“He was your best friend—you’re allowed to be upset about it, you know.”

Even though you knew it, it was nice to hear her say it to you. Wiping the tears from your eyes before they could stain your cheeks, you nodded, “I know.”

She lightly drummed her fingers on the door frame, “You keeping those?”

There was a long pause before you finally nodded, “I think so.”

She nodded, “I’ll go grab you another box.”

--

“This thing looks like it’s been through the wringer,” your tattoo artist chuckled as she looked over the cast you’d brought with you.

You managed a smile, “Because it has. I’ve had that thing since I was in, fucking, like eighth grade I think? Long time.”

“What made you decide to get this done now?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Figured it’ll be better than moving it from one closet to the next over the course of my life.”

You could tell by the look on her face, that she wanted to ask for the story behind it all. But the fact that you didn’t offer it up, made her not pry. You’d always been open so if you were keeping something to yourself, she respected that. The two of you talked about the logistics of it, and the changes you want to make to clean it up a little bit. You were excited to come back and get it done, though.

Despite the wait, your excitement and nervousness about coming back didn’t fade. You didn’t regret the decision, but it was still nerve-wracking as you got ready to sit down in the chair. She had you look over the pattern she’d drawn up, and when you gave her the okay she laid the stencil out on your arm and got to work. You watched her as she brought it all to life—it was a little cleaner and more grown-up than the original scribbles and doodles, but it felt right. Tears stung at the edges of your eyes but it wasn’t because of the physical pain of getting the tattoo.

She was wrapping it up in saranwrap as she gave you the run-down of taking care of the tattoo. You’d heard the spiel before but you still listened anyway. You had a hard time taking your eyes off of the artwork as you made your way back out to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you let out a sigh as you tried to inspect the ink as best you could through the wrap around your arm.

The next day, you were putting on a fresh wrap over your tattoo after your shower when you heard your phone buzzing in the next room. With a heavy sigh, you slapped a piece of tape onto the wrap and scrambled to get to your phone before you missed the call. Looking down at the screen, you didn’t recognize the number. But it was an off-hour for a scammer to be calling so you answered it on a whim. Worst case scenario you would just hang up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, my name is Rita and I work at Imperial Hospital. I’m looking for Ms. Y/N?”

“Um, speaking?” you had no idea where this was going.

“Good morning. Someone was admitted and you are their only emergency contact—no next of kin listed. Do you know a Mr. Nestor Oceteva?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach, “Yes,” you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, “Yes I do. Is he alright?”

“He’s going to be fine,” her tone was calm enough to give you the smallest sliver of reassurance, “But we do need you to come in and answer some questions for us. He’s been in and out of it and we need someone who can give us reliable information.”

“O-okay. Yea. Yea I’ll leave right now. It’ll be about an hour or so before I get there though. Is that alright? He’s going to be okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. He’s going to be fine. Thank you so much for your cooperation.”

You hung up the phone and started flying around your apartment to get ready. You had no idea what you were about to be walking into but at this point you didn’t care. All these years you’ve been wondering about him and he was two towns over. You were as angry as you were relieved.

The line of questions that the nurses asked you seemed endless. You knew that it was all important but there was nothing that you wanted more than to be in the room and see that it really was him, that this wasn’t just some cruel trick from the universe.

Finally, the nurse started walking you back. You only heard half of what she was saying to you about his condition as the two of you approached the room. You heard that he was stable and the rest didn’t really matter to you. your hands were trembling as she gestured to the door to his room, telling you that she would give you a few minutes to yourselves.

You slowly opened the door and a sob lodged itself in your throat as you looked at him. He was passed out, whether the sleep was genuine or from the meds you didn’t know. Truthfully, it was almost difficult to see that it was the Nestor you knew and loved—but you could still see it. Underneath the cuts and scrapes, beneath the braids and the tattoos, there was still your Nestor. The man you knew all those years ago was somewhere underneath it all.

Walking over, you collapsed in the chair next to his bed. You reached out and took his hand in your own, seeing the scars and scabs that covered his knuckles. Whatever he’d been doing all those years, it wasn’t treating him well. You let out a shaky breath as the tears started to fall. You tried to keep your emotions bottled up and quiet, but you couldn’t. There were too many there that you had been battling with and pushing down over the years.

Your crying made him stir. With a quiet groan of pain he opened his eyes and turned to look and see who was in the room with him. His entire body went stiff as his eyes flew completely open, unable to believe that you were sitting there with him.

“H-holy shit,” he coughed, trying to sit up, “Y/N?”

He was conscious and able to speak, so you punched him in the upper arm, “As soon as I can my ass, Nestor.”

He winced and smiled, and you could see all of the motions in his eyes, “I’m…I’m sorry.”

“You fucking should be.”

“I am.”

“Good.”

There were a few beats of silence and then he heard the crinkling of the wrap on your arm as you crossed them and he nodded towards it, “Fresh?”

Heat instantly flooded to your face and you fought the urge to get up and run out of the room, “Got it yesterday.”

“Can I see?”

You hated that he was talking to you like everything was normal, but you couldn’t lie and said that you didn’t miss it. Taking a deep breath, you laid your arm down on the hospital bed for him to inspect. A smile instantly took over his features when he saw what it was. He looked up at you, and when he saw the happiness and hurt both in your expression, his smile dulled a little bit.

“I’m so sorry.”

“What the fuck, Nestor?”

“I know, I know. I should’ve said something.”

“Uh…yea.”

“When they let me out of here, will you let me take you somewhere and tell you all about it?”

“I mean. I guess. But only because I’m nosey,” you managed a smile through the tears.

“I love you.”

The words made your heart skip a beat in your chest, “I love you too.”

“That’s way less clunky than a cast,” he tapped the plastic wrap.

You smiled, wiping the tears away, “Yea, I guess so.”

“I can’t believe you still have the same number after all these years.”

You paused, looking down at your hands, “I kept it in case your ass decided to smarten up and call me one of these days.”

“Hospital calling you on my behalf doesn’t count?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “No. No it doesn’t.”

He reached over and clasped your hand in his, “I’m really glad that you’re here.”

With a deep sigh, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his forehead, careful to miss all the scrapes, “Me too.”

There was so much more to be said, but it could wait. You tried to soak up the feeling of his hand over yours, smiles appearing on both of your faces despite the lost time and the gravity of the situation. A lot of things had changed, but as you felt the heat from his palm and the way his thumb traced back and forth over your hand, you knew the important things were still exactly the same.

[icequeenbae]

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~3.7k (Chapter 1)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist   >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: Yay, this is happening!!! My first BaekBaёk, oml I’m gonna-

Ok. I’ll admit right off the bat that I wouldn’t be posting this any time soon without my lovely beta @baekshoney​ 🖤 She’s the person I turn to when I think there’s a million little things I could’ve done better, because that’s what I always think. I had to give myself a cut-off date to finally give up editing this 😅 So, I’d really appreciate it if you guys could share your thoughts and opinions on this too. My asks, dms and comments are places where you’re always welcome! Now, let’s get into this!

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo @baeklightsx @wooya1224 @baekklove

Chapter 1. The beginning of the end 

It was all too sudden.

The words he’d said deafened you. Refusing to believe what you were hearing, you shook your head and took a step back, as if doing so could start the conversation you’d just had over. Or rewind the time and allow you to prevent the words from coming out of his mouth in the first place. But he was firm, unyielding in his stance.

‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘It’s my fault. I should’ve known better.’

Than to start this relationship, was what he meant. That he should have avoided getting in a relationship with you altogether, and breaking up with you would’ve never become an issue.

‘Why?’ You tried to speak, but your lower lip started to tremble, silencing you at once.

This was all wrong. It couldn’t have been true, what he was saying.

He licked his lips, looking away, hands forming tight fists at his sides as he tried to recollect himself and urge his body to stay frozen on the spot.

That did not work for long – the sight of you, so small, so stunned and defeated, with tears welling in your eyes while you tried to stifle them… He couldn’t. It was stupid of him to break his act so easily, but you were too precious to him to just leave you like this.

Sighing and cursing himself out in his mind, he took a stride towards you and gathered you tightly in his arms.

‘I am sorry, Y/N,’ he continued softly, hearing you hiccup in his unexpected embrace. ‘But I have to leave. We- I should’ve stayed away from you from the start. Forgive me for being so weak.’

You sobbed at his words, shaking your head stubbornly and clinging to his broad chest as an act of desperation.

‘I can come with you!’

‘No,’ he interrupted your crazy idea. ‘I’m leaving you behind. To keep you safe.’

‘Safe from what?’ You questioned, half-annoyed now.

He kept insisting that he wished to protect you, but how was leaving you all alone ensuring your security? And why would you even consider it, when you only felt safe while with him?

‘I cannot tell you. The more you know, the more dangerous it is.’

‘Baekhyunie, please,’ you wiped the tears and grabbed onto his vest as he moved to pull away. ‘You can’t just decide this on your own!’

‘Y/N,’ he took hold of your wrists, not removing them just yet. ‘I know it’s hard, and I never wanted to hurt you like this. But there’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind. I’d rather break your heart than risk your life, so it’s not really a choice.’

He looked around as if to make sure you were not being watched, and then leaned in to place a farewell kiss on your temple – his favorite spot. You sniffled, realization of the inevitable setting in.

‘Just let me go, flower,’ his voice lowered to a whisper, and you sobbed at the pet name. ‘You’ll be better off without me, I promise.’

‘No,’ you protested as he freed himself from your grasp, and took a step back. ‘No, Baekhyun, don’t leave,’ you clawed at his forearm, trying to stop him. ‘We can deal with it together, we can think of something! I don’t want to be without you,’ you whimpered sorrowfully.

He shook his head, shying away from your touch, while you desperately tried to hold him back.

But you couldn’t. He gently peeled your hands off to walk away, and you missed the pained crease between his eyebrows when he turned his back on you to escape your apartment.

‘Please, don’t do this…’ You whispered, voice breaking in anguish. Just as your heart was.

Yet, Baekhyun kept walking. Leaving you to weep in the unwelcoming emptiness of your home.

Leaving you for good.

***

Your relationship with Baekhyun started almost three years ago.

Still new to university life, you found yourself in the midst of a soap opera worth of drama when a bunch of transfer students joined all at once, some even in the same year as you. All highly attractive, they usually hung out together and spent less time than needed socializing with the outside world.

Not that you cared too much – sure, the excitement going around was making you curious, but they looked too handsome, almost to the extent that you found it intimidating. Ironically, the most intimidating you found Baekhyun. His then long dark hair with strands of red and a mullet hairstyle, the sharp green eyes, the pierced eyebrow, and the lip ring that made him look like a very attractive hooligan... The piercings turned out to be just as fake as the eye color, which did not disappoint you at all.

Funny enough, you only got to know this bad boy because he took a liking to retreating to the campus library. Hiding from all of the attention, of course. While some members of his clique actually basked in it, he preferred to disappear to the remote aisles of the quiet space and read a book, or, more likely, sleep with one on his chest. You saw him like that often, since you were stuck in there yourself – essays for different classes were piling up rapidly. As a diligent student, you were determined to do well in your first year of university, so dragging yourself to the library to stay glued to your laptop was the best option.

Coincidentally, you also preferred to stay in the less lively spaces, as you tended to seek peace and quiet to focus on your assignments. Your attention span… wasn’t impressive, to say the least, so you did your best to avoid any distractions. However, you didn’t count on a certain sleep lover to be one of them.

It was not the first day you spent close enough to notice the tranquil expression he wore on his face as he was snoozing. It was, however, the first time he caught you staring mindlessly in his direction. Burning the deepest shade of red in your cheeks, you grabbed your books and quickly made yourself scarce, thanking heavens for the multiple aisles of books around. You walked around for ten minutes or so, actually placing your books back where they belonged and finding a secluded corner to check out what else was on the shelves. Squinting, you tried to read the name of the tome that had gotten your attention, and raised your arm to get it from the level that was clearly too high for you. Thankfully, someone reached over your head and helped you obtain the book. You turned around to say thank you but instead were suddenly pushed back into the shelf by the taller figure with neat red strands. Speechless, you only held your book close and gaped at him, as he leaned forward.

‘Ever heard about the cat killed by curiosity?’ He hummed, eyes piercing you from above.

You swallowed, knees getting weaker as you registered the fresh musky smell coming off of his brightly colored shirt.

To push your buttons, he decided to get even more scandalously close to you, arm holding onto the rack behind you to keep balance.

‘Nothing wrong with being curious!’ You jabbered. ‘In fact, if people preserved the curiosity they have as kids they would’ve had a much bigger learning capacity as adults.’

He huffed. You weren’t sure if he was shocked or amused, because your eyes looked anywhere but his face. In fact, they lowered enough to fix on your forearm, resting across his rib cage, and your fist pressing slightly into his pec to keep him at least at a minimal distance.

At this you gasped, eyes widening and returning to his face, only to catch an inquisitive spark in his retinas as he nudged the lip ring with his tongue. Sighing, he took a step back, finally allowing some space between you.

‘Can’t write a philosophy essay with this, little flower,’ he chuckled. ‘Or if you can… I’d be impressed.’

You looked down in confusion, understanding that the book you were holding was from a Botanics section. ‘The Oxford Book of Wild Flowers’, read the title.

But… How did he know about your philosophy assignment?

***

Only later had Baekhyun confessed that he had had an eye on you for a while by the time this incident took place, but the moment of your outburst was what got to him. When he looked down at your cornered form, holding a book to your chest so innocently, and keeping him away instinctively with one arm. He had to bite his tongue to prevent a smile from making its way onto his face. That was it for him, and even though he wanted to avoid you and keep interactions with you to an absolute minimum, he couldn’t help but find ways to draw your attention. Like that one time, when you walked out of the library because the loud noises from the outside made your concentration for the night crumble.

The source of that noise was, in fact, a certain convertible, blasting the music for the entire campus to hear. You would have come up to complain that your studying was cut short if you didn’t have perfect eyesight. It allowed you to see that there was a red-haired problem sat in the car, with a bare foot resting lazily against the panel. Ready to run the other way, you turned around, meeting a solid chest with your forehead. You discovered that it was a rather cheerful guy in the same year as you, Jongin, and the other one with him was Sehun. And those two stalled you long enough for Baekhyun to make an entrance.

It was the first time he tried asking you out. And got rejected.

However, as much as you wanted to take ownership of that and say that you were playing hard to get when you walked off and left him stunned by your refusal, that was not the case. This guy made your throat go dry at the mere sight of him! He was way too handsome, and he also looked kind of… well, he looked like he’d break your heart without thinking twice about it. And that you couldn’t allow.

But then again, good girls do tend to fall for bad boys. Or was he only pretending to be bad? You’d never heard anything that discredited him, except for the way he stared people down sometimes. That once happened to a fellow student in your class. After he sat next to you during lunch.

Actually, almost the entire week following that incident you had lunch alone because everyone kept making excuses to sit elsewhere. That was how you became friends with Jongin and Sehun. Having had a few classes together, you were more or less acquainted with each other, so you didn’t mind when Jongin suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a tray and asked you if they could join. He even had lunch with you when Sehun wasn’t around – you figured that it made Jongin even more chatty. So much so, that one day he leaned across the table to get slightly closer, and used his most clandestine voice on you.

‘You know, hyung could burn a hole in anyone next to you with his glare, but I’m immune to his ‘charms’, thankfully,’ he giggled and added, ‘Still, I think you should give him a chance. Baekhyun’s a good guy, and he’s kinda torn as it is. Asking you out was a pretty big step for him.’

Honestly, you had a hard time believing that. Baekhyun… was probably the kind of guy, who never even had to ask. You could look around and easily spot a dozen eyes that were fixed on him at this very moment. Why in the world would he want to date you, clearly not the ‘easy-going’ party type? He probably wanted to get into your pants just for sport, like the rest of the pretty boys.

‘Whatever you’re thinking, it’s far from the truth. Ugh, Junmyeon will kill me for this!’ Jongin cursed himself and continued, before you could ask. ‘Hyung looks rough around the edges, but he’s really a softie. Trust me on this.’

‘Are you his wingman or something?’ You snorted dubiously, getting a little timid from this discussion.

‘Ha, are you kidding? He’s gonna strangle me if he finds out. Like I said, he’s torn between staying away from you and persisting in his efforts to take you out. Just think about it,’ he ended with an attempted (but failed) wink.

As if to take away your chance to process the unexpected input, Jongin shoved Baekhyun in your direction the very next day. Disappearing from the cafeteria right after, of course. Envy his subtlety. But, apparently, what he said earlier had an effect, so you only nodded when a flustered figure asked for permission to sit with you. He looked quite different from the previous times you saw him up close – much less confident and intimidating. But he seemed sincere when he said he just wanted one chance.

And that was how your relationship picked up. It took a whirlwind course from the very beginning, and the hot summer before your second year of university was the most torturous time ever for the both of you. Still wary of getting played, you only trusted Baekhyun enough to get intimately close months and months into dating. And he was patient with you, going at a slow pace, letting you pull away whenever you wanted. Until you didn’t want to anymore.

That last leap of faith was a beginning in itself – a true beginning of you and Baekhyun. The final seal was broken, and you entrusted yourself fully to him, which he repaid by showering you in his affection and feelings that he himself had not come to acknowledge just then.

After a year together, you were not simply allowed into the inner circle, but also educated about the special abilities that Baekhyun and his friends had. You were first interrogated by their leader, Junmyeon, who wanted to make sure you had no ulterior motives and were not going to tell a living soul about them. He called it ‘a quick chat’ as he dragged you in a scarcely furnished room where he sat you down at the small metal table across from him. The leader asked you questions and tried reading your verbal and non-verbal cues, so it was clearly an interrogation. Junmyeon was pretty experienced in this, so he could instantly tell that you were harmless. And you also passed the test, answering the most ridiculous questions about Baekhyun – apparently, that was to make sure you were not ‘faking it’ – so, he accepted you into their family.

However, knowing too much was dangerous, so you only learned about their powers and how they came from the so-called EXO Planet when they were young (talk about dating an alien!), and that the organization they called ‘the Red’ amongst themselves wanted to hunt them down. They also used to be held hostage by these people – and that was just about as much you knew about the issue because Baekhyun kept you away from the ‘unnecessary details’. He only told you that they seemed to be hidden well in this town, surrounded by just enough people to blend in and disappear. And you worried, always, because you knew too little about the dangers surrounding the group, and even less about how you could contribute to their safety.

Baekhyun laughed when you once brought it up, finding your concern nothing but cute.

‘You don’t have to worry about it, flower. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, not the other way around,’ he then said, playing with the curly ends of your hair.

You frowned at that. Why was it not your job to take care of him? If you could help, you wanted to help. But he always brushed you off, saying that the only thing you should do to help is staying out of trouble. Like that was a challenge – you either studied or hung out with him and his friends, not much room to stir trouble. The only other person you talked to regularly was your roommate, and she was also pretty harmless.

As time went by, you got closer to your own graduation, basically, one year left before you had to figure it out for yourself again. Your boyfriend was always supportive, but you couldn’t help but wonder how he imagined your future. He was always up to something but never shared it with you since it was ‘nothing for you to worry about’. Had he not shown you his actual abilities before, you would’ve certainly thought that it was a crazy lie he told you to cover up for some kind of illegal activity. In reality, some illegal activities were going on, especially since hacking and cracking was one of Minseok’s specialties (but mostly because they needed to keep their identities out of sight). Another reason why they didn’t all go to the same school when they arrived, and also why they changed their appearance ever so often. The lucky mullet was long gone by the time you had your first Christmas together, and you had had the pleasure of seeing him in multiple hair colors throughout almost three years of your relationship. Notably, the first dozen or so make-out sessions you had with him took place when he had just cut his hair and dyed it pitch black. And he still wore his fake lip ring at the time, which was an experience in itself. He did know how to use his mouth…

Admittedly, you were kind of used to being the object of the boys’ shameless teasing every time you hung out together. The way Baekhyun kept you close and fussed about everything was, apparently, atypical for their usually chill and humorous hyung. He was their second-in-command, after all, the genius behind the strategic planning of the group, and the mind that kept them hidden for so long in one place.

Because of you.

One of the boys had previously let it slip that they hadn’t lived anywhere for that long before, maybe not even for one full year. But this time Baekhyun was determined to stay for a while, now that he had an anchor.

But the day came. When he found out that they might’ve been compromised, he got scared. The way he’d never feared anything before. And he’d been through a lot, to put it mildly. Baekhyun could maintain a cold and sharp mind at all times, that was his thing, but not when it came to you. Once he figured out that there was a real chance, that they could’ve found the EXO hideout and, thus, could connect you to the boys, he couldn’t think straight. Overwhelmed by a sudden panic, he sought advice from the leader.

‘You know it’s not me who’s supposed to decide,’ Junmyeon sighed, looking at his disheveled second. ‘I told you a relationship wasn’t a good idea. I also think that keeping her close means putting her life in jeopardy.’

His words were cutting through Baekhyun as he paced the room, long fingers grasping his own hair.

‘But it still may be a safer option than leaving her here,’ the leader added, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘We need to relocate fast, and you have the ‘better of two evils’ situation on your hands.’

‘I know I should leave her,’ Baekhyun stopped in his tracks, turning his head to the leader. ‘But what if they already know, hyung?’

‘Minseok had every trace of her erased, not a single camera in town had a glimpse of her with you. They might have found our footprints in the sand, but those don’t necessarily lead to her. I suppose they should move on as soon as they come here and realize that we’re nowhere around.’

‘Most likely, but what if-’

‘They can very well catch up to us while we run. Like I said, there isn’t a right answer, but a choice. And I think that you’ve already made it when you should give her a voice, too,’ the leader pushed.

‘I-’ Baekhyun turned away to hide the glassy eyes from Junmyeon. ‘I have to give her a chance, hyung. I cannot sentence her to a lifetime of running and danger. And I know she’s silly enough to throw herself into it if she has a say in this.’

‘And if you’re wrong? You’re going to break her heart as a precaution?’

‘She won’t die from a broken heart. Can you imagine what they’d do to her if they find out?’

Junmyeon bit his lip. This time, the choice was completely out of his hands. He thought his second was making a mistake, but it was not his place to decide. Exhaling again, he nodded.

‘Tell her in the morning. We’re moving out as soon as the rain starts.’

>> Chapter 2

A/N: So, what do you think? This is more of an introductory chapter, I know, but it covers quite a lot of their relationship with Baek. You must be excited to see where this goes and when Baёk appears? Or if Baekhyun is coming back? Me too, me too 🙈

[milliedazzledust]

Tell me you love me (Nick Scratch imagine)

Request from @starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies : Could you do a hurt/comfort Nick scratch fic? Like maybe the reader gets hurt by one of the villains in caos?

+ Request from anon: Just an INTENSE “oh my god thank fuck you’re safe” type of scene with nick 

---

“Okay, Y/N, that’s enough”

The girl turned her head to her friend. They were sitting on the stairs inside the Academy of Unseen Arts, talking about spells when the young woman had spotted Nicholas Scratch, talking to the weird Sisters.

“Enough ?” She repeated.

“Stop being distracted by Nick!”

“What ?” She straightened out. “What are you talking about, Brina ?”

“Are you kidding me ?” Her friend laughed. “Every time he walks in a room, your eyes go to him and your mind gets lost into this land of daydream you created to avoid telling him how you feel”

She puffed, averting her friend’s gaze before closing the book on her lap and getting up.

“Stop being so dramatic, Spellman. It’s not like that.”

“Oh yeah ?” She smiled. “Then why has he been staring at you with those love sick puppy eyes ever since he spotted us on the stairs ?”

Her eyes grew big and she took her friend by the hand, forcing her to walk.

“Spellman ! Y/L/N !” They hear Prudence called before they could disappear in the hallway.

Sabrina glanced at her friend, already annoyed, and turned back to the weird sisters and Nicholas.

“Hi, Prudence” She simply greeted her.

“And what is this book I see…” She pondered with a smirk. “Dark magic, huh ?”

“You do know it is forbidden to practice it” Dorcas reminded them.

“Who said anything about practicing” Y/N answered. “It’s called reading”

“Now if you excuse us, we have to go” Sabrina added.

Prudence looked them up and down before turned around, snapping her fingers at her sisters to tell them to follow her. And once again, before the two friends could go, someone stopped them. This time it was Nicholas. He grabbed Y/N by her wrist, forcing her to turn and face him.

“You’re not using any of those spells, are you ?” He asked.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you’re worried about me, Scratch”

“I am”

“Well, don’t be.” She smiled at him. “You know I’m powerful. And besides, we have everything under control”

He looked between Sabrina and her, not entirely sure he believed them.

“If you need my help you know you can call me” He insisted.

“I know, Nick.”

“Please be careful” He called before she could get away.

“You know I always am” She sweetly smiled.

He pursed his lips, half satisfied by her answer and decided against his best judgment to let them go. Sabrina grabbed her friend by the arm, both of them making their way to the mortal realm. Half an hour later, they were sitting inside Dr.Cerberus’ coffee with Theo and Roz.

“When exactly did you noticed something was different about Harvey?” Y/N asked them.

“About two days ago. He started acting … weird” Theo answered.

“Weird how ?”

“Talking to a wall, having those spasms and drawing symbols”

“You have them ?” Y/N inquired. “The drawings”

“Yes!”

Roz got a piece of paper out of her bag. As soon as she put it on the table, the witches recognized it.

“We were right” Sabrina told her friend.

“What is it ?” Theo said.

“He’s possessed” Y/N explained. “It’s a sigil he’s drawing. It represents a lock in ancient Greek. Typically, when one’s possessed, they’ll instinctively try to protect their mind by making this”

“How … how do we help him ?” Roz continued, talking to Sabrina.

“I don’t know how to perform an exorcism guys” She admitted.

“I do” Y/N announced. “I’ll do it”

“You know it’s risky” Sabrina reminded her.

“I don’t see any other choices, Brina. Unless you want your friend to die, which will eventually happen”

She sighed, knowing the girl was right.

“How do we help you ?” Theo asked them.

“Staying away is the best option for you” Y/N told them.

“Why ?!”

“Once I’ll do the exorcism, the demon will be forced out of Harvey’s body. There’s a chance it might jump in one of yours to hide from me”

They nodded, understanding what was at stake.

“We’ll be a phone call away in case you need us”

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be fine” Sabrina reassured them.

Once everything was settled, they made their way to the Spellman’s house. Sabrina had the idea to lure Harvey inside. The house would be empty that night so it was now or never. As the blonde witch wrote the message for her friend to come, Y/N started to prepare for the spell. Candles, cauldron with blood and ashes, a circle of salt and her book of Dark Magic were prepared for the ritual.

“As soon as he’s here, get him in the circle then close it with the salt” She explained to Sabrina.

“You sure about this ?” She asked one last time.

Her friend responded with a shrug. Before she could answer, her phone rang, distracting her. She sighed when she realized who was calling her and turned around for a bit of privacy.

“Nick” She answered.

“Hey! When are you coming back to the Academy” He inquired.

“Why ?”

“It’s almost midnight”

“So …?”

“Look, Y/N, I’m just making sure that you’re alright and not doing anything reckless”

“I told you I’d be careful, didn’t I ?”

“Yeah, well I’m aware of your definition of non-existent sense of self preservation”

“That’s offending”

“But true. Now when are you coming back ?”

“Later. I’ve got to go. Brina and I are kinda in the middle of something”

“Wait …”

She didn’t wait and hang up when she saw Harvey approaching the house.

“Ready ?”

“As I’ll ever be”

Y/N went to hide in the kitchen, waiting for Sabrina to give her a signal. She could hear them exchanged words and Sabrina kept talking to distract the possessed boy as she lured him in the living room. Everything was happening perfectly so far.

“Just sit here, Harvey” She told him. “Make yourself comfortable”

As he sat on the chair, she threw the salt she had in her fist, finishing the circle where he was now trapped.

“What is this ?” He asked, confused.

“Y/N!” She called.

The girl walked from behind him, putting him to sleep with a small incantation in latin. They exchanged one final look, ready to get to work.

“Once I’m inside, don’t come near me » She reminded Sabrina. « Do not touch me”

Her friend nodded. She took a deep breath and stepped inside the circle. Slowly, with all the patience she could conjure up, she started to prepare. Drawing signs on the floor with the blood mixed with the ashes, she started reciting a spell. Harvey started shaking, a small sign he was struggling. As she lit the large candle in front of her, she kneeled down, the last words of her spell pouring out of her mouth, sending her into a transe. Suddenly, she was gone. Her head thrown back, her eyes closed, she seemed in another dimension.

“Harvey!” She called inside her mind.

“The boy is not here” She heard a whisper behind her.

“Who are you, demon ?”

“You’re about to find out, witch”

And so her fight to free Harvey started. It was pitch black inside her mind and she could hear the demon laughing, waiting to attack. She tried to make a step but realized she could not move. Shaken, she look at her feet and saw a large pentagram, a witch trap.

“Shit” She murmured to herself.

She couldn’t reach Sabrina to tell her, she’d have to face him alone. Again, she heard him laughing. She turned around, trying to think of an escape but knew no spell would be efficient against a witch trap. Before she could realized what was happening, she felt what seemed like water on the floor. From outside, Sabrina knew something wasn’t right. Y/N couldn’t feel it in her mind but her body was shaking like crazy. Blood was rolling out of her nose and she almost seemed out of breath. Sabrina tried to call her but knew it was useless. She couldn’t help her, not from outside the circle and not by herself. Cursing, she knew who she had to call at their rescue.

“Nick, I need your help” She reached out to the boy through her mind.

“Where are you ?” She heard back seconds later inside her head.

“My house. Bring the sisters with you”

“Why ?”

“We used a spell and she’s not… I don’t think she’s alright”

“What spell ?” He asked.

“The exorcism”

“Who did it ?”

“…it’s Y/N. You have to hurry, Nick, please” She cried.

He didn’t answered back and she guessed he was rushing to get to the house. She turned back to her friend. Her eyes had turned wide. A large, empty white color staring back at nothing. It was like she had big electric jolts to her body. She could see Y/N trembling, the spasms so violent as she fought. Her body was in a tornado and Sabrina knew if she tried to even touch her it could have devastating effects.

“What the hell is going on” She heard behind her

When she turned around, the weird Sisters and Nick were standing there. The sisters stayed back, accessing the room, but Nick immediately rushed to Y/N once he saw her struggling.

“No!” Sabrina shouted.

He stopped right before crossing the line of salt encircling the young girl inside.

“What did you do, Sabrina ?!” He yelled back, his eyes glued to Y/N

“We had … we had to do an exorcism” She explained. “I didn’t know how but Y/N did. And once… once she started, her body just …”

“Why did you let her do it ?!” Nick cut her.

“Do you realize how dangerous this is ?” Prudence lectured.

“You have to help me” Sabrina said, ignoring their questions. “I can’t make her come back by myself”

Nicholas turned back to the girl, walking in front of her from a safe distance. He knew she couldn’t see him, but maybe she could hear him.

“Hey beautiful” He started to speak. “It’s me, it’s Nick. Can you hear me ?”

His heart broke when he saw her shiver more violently.

“I know you’re trapped, but I need your help Y/N”

Again, no reaction to tell him she was able to ear him.

“Try a memory, Nick” Prudence advised him.

He nodded.

“Do you… do you remember the first time we met ?” He knelt down in front of her. “You were on this rooftop, dancing by yourself. You were so beautiful. You looked like a mad woman, so I called your name but you didn’t hear me. I tried to come closer but I must’ve startled you, because you made me freeze on the spot with a flicker of your hand. I knew when you turned around that I was doomed to fall for you”

“Nick..” She whispered, almost as if speaking out loud was hurting her

“I’m here, Y/N, I’m right here love” He said back.

“I’m trapped with him”

“It’s alright, we’re here to help you get back”

“We need the demon’s name, Y/N” Prudence added, her sisters and her already in a circle.

The girl was looked straight ahead, distressed, almost conflicted by her choice.

“Once I tell you, you won’t have long” She told them.

“Why ?”

“He’ll do anything to keep us from casting him out”

“Makes sense” Agatha stated. “The power is in his name”

“Y/N” Nick called. “Which demon is with you ?”

“His name is …” She stopped herself, pursing her lips.

They could see her fighting a battle to open her mouth, to vocalize the syllable that could end her suffering.

“..B…Buka..vac” She murmured.

Prudence gasped, the simple name enough to horrify her and her sisters.

“What ?” Sabrina asked. “Who is it ?”

“He’s a demonic creature” Nicholas whispered, his eyes glued to Y/N. “He possessed people to torture them and drown them from inside”

Just as he said it, she started to hyperventilate. She opened her mouth to speak but only water came out.

“What’s happening ?” Sabrina shouted.

“Y/N, love, listen to me” Nick vehemently spoke, his eyes filling with tears. “You have to fight him back. Please, you have to…”

He couldn’t speak, his heart was breaking watching the girl he loved chocked on invisible water.

“C’mon Nick, get up” Prudence said. “Help us”

They formed a circle around her, locking their hands as they started chanting in an ancient language. Each of them in tune, they were giving strength to the young witch. Nick closed his eyes, keeping on reciting the words. He couldn’t watch her like this, it was too much. He could hear her struggle to keep the oxygen in her lungs, could guess the pounding of her heart and the fight in her head. In that moment he prayed Satan she’d keep breathing. There was a sense of urgency around them all that was more apparent than ever. They were close to losing their fight and all Nicholas could focus on was his love gasping for air. He let the tears freely roamed on his face, trying to shut the sound of her struggle.

And suddenly, it stopped. No more sound of heavy breathing or coughing, just a heavy silence. Fearful of what he would see, Nicholas slowly opened his eyes. He could swore his heart stopped beating right there when he saw her body laying on the ground. Without even thinking or realizing it, he crossed the circle made of salt and rushed to her side.

“No, no, no, no, no…” He kept whispering.

Her body felt cold, too cold to be alive. She felt like a ghost in his arms. He placed a hand of her chest, praying whatever entities could hear him to make him feel a heartbeat. He waited, but nothing happened.

“Move aside, Nick!” Prudence forcefully told him, pushing him away.

She started to pound on the young witch’s chest with all the power she could muster. Her sisters behind her were silently helping with a spell.

“C’mon, Y/N, breath” She shouted. “Breath!”

With a powerful fist she banged on her heart. The reaction was instantaneous and the girl woke up, taking a tremendous gulp of air as she regain consciousness. In doing so, and just as she arose, so did Harvey who had been asleep during the whole process of exorcism. Sabrina ran to him, wanting to make sure he was alright.

As of Nicholas, he didn’t waste a second before taking the girl in his arms, nodding at Prudence as a silence sign to thank her.

“Oh my god, thank fuck you’re safe” He whispered, crying.

Weakly, Y/N reached for him and hugged him as hard as she could.

“Thank you” She said, her head buried in his neck.

“Never, ever, do that again” He answered, taking her head between his hands. “I thought you were dead, Y/N/N”

A tear escaped her eye as she clasped her hands around his wrists, a simple way to ground herself to him.

“For a moment there I thought so to” She admitted.

Slowly, he helped her to sit.

“Harvey, are you alright ?” She asked, turning her head to the teenager.

“Yes, yes I am” He reassured her.

She closed her eyes, sighing in relief as she put her head on Nicholas’s shoulder.

“C’mon, you have to rest” Nick said. “I’ll take you back to the Academy”

She nodded.

“Sabrina, stay with Harvey to make sure he’s alright” She told her friend.

“You sure ?”

“Yes, I’ll be alright”

“I don’t want to leave you alone, not after all this” Her best friend confessed.

“She won’t be alone” Nick answered her. “There’s no way I’m letting her out of my sight”

Sabrina smiled as she watched the young boy bending to take the girl he loved in his arms. Hands clasped with Harvey’s, she watched the Sisters follow Nick and Y/N on their way back to the Academy. Through the small journey, Y/N slept. Safe in Nick’s arms, she knew she could rest peacefully. She woke up, several hours later, disoriented, in her bedroom at the Academy.

“We’re home” She heard a voice comfort her in the dark.

When she turned her head, she saw him. Sitting on her bed, his back to the wall, his eyes glued to her.

“You know it’s creepy to watch someone sleep, do you ?” She joked.

“I needed to make sure you were still breathing” He seriously stated.

She sighed, getting up to match his position. Slowly, she put her head on his shoulder and entwined their hand.

“I’m alright, Nick”

“I know” He said, closing his eyes. “But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the sight of you so pale and… and almost …”

“Hey, hey! Nick look at me”

She moved, kneeling in front him.

“I’m here, I’m alive”

She took one of his hand, putting in on her chest.

“Do you feel that ? …”

With a little force, he hugged her as hard as he could. His head on her chest, his ear on top of her heart, he listened closely. She let him have a moment, knowing it must have been rough for him. They stayed like that, in each other’s arms, her hand playing with his hair, for what felt like only two minutes.

“I love you, Y/N” He whispered, admitting his feelings.

“I figured” She joked.

He playfully slapped her thigh, making her laugh.

“Aren’t you going to say it back ?” He asked.

“I guess so”

“You … I’m sorry, « you guess so » ?” He straightened up, pretending to be hurt.

“Is that ego of yours bruised, Scratch ?”

“Very much so”

She laughed before looking at him dead in the eyes.

“Then I should probably tell you a secret”

“Is it a good secret ?” He asked.

“I’ll let you decide on that one”

“Alright, I’m listening”

With a wicked smile she leaned into him, slowly putting her lips on his. It was the sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a short moment, a statement from both of them admitting what they refused to say out loud before.

“I love you too, Nick” she whispered in his ear.

“Best secret ever” he answered, smiling, making her laugh.

[1littleshippergirl1]

Teachers have lives, too

Percy/Oliver

Modern AU with magic. Teacher AU. Zoom style

Prompt 23 (I think) from my challenge: secret relationship

My first and only Percy/Oliver fic. Hope y'all enjoy it!

__

"What, no robes?" Oliver raised his eyebrows when Percy came out of their bedroom dressed in one of Oliver's muggle style t-shirts and casual trousers instead of strictly adhering to the dress code of wearing his teaching robes like he'd set upon himself to do since the start of online school.

"I didn't feel like it," Percy shrugged as he took a much needed gulp of tea. Swallowing, he added, "It's Friday and I doubt the kids will care."

Oliver propped himself up on the countertop by his elbows, simply adoring the way his shirt highlighted the muscles that his boyfriend was adamant didn't exist. "You're staring," Percy remarked idly.

"can't help it. You're irresistible, love."

Percy scoffed, but Oliver saw that tiny smile appear when he made to turn around. Grinning, he maneuvered around the counter to sneak his arms around the red-head's waist, pressing a kiss to his temple. "We should take the day off," he murmured into his ear. "Tell Minerva we're both sick."

"Much as I would simply love to," Percy turned to face him, "we can't and you know that." He moved away and Oliver sighed dramatically.

"Don't see why we have to keep it a secret, Perce."

Percy shrugged again. "I don't want our private life aired out for everyone. You know how nosy the kids are."

"I know how nosy Phoebe is," Oliver chuckled as Percy snorted and rolled his eyes.

Phoebe Wren was one of Hogwart's newest students, a Gryffindor and a complete and utter chatterbox. She had no qualms about asking personal questions or blurting out whatever came to mind, no matter how embarrassing it was to the other person. She was a nice enough girl, a real sweetheart but that mouth of hers needed controlling.

"Didn't she ask you to take off your shirt so she could see if that rumor about you having a tattoo was true or not?"

Percy groaned good naturedly. "Don't remind me. I've yet to figure out who even started that ridiculous rumor."

Oliver's eyes dropped and a broad, yet sheepish grin came across his face. "Well-"

Percy's jaw dropped but he was smiling as well and choked out laughter. "You didn't."

"In my defense," Oliver chuckled, "I was bored and Phoebe was willing to listen."

"You should be ashamed of yourself, spreading rumors like a third year," Percy had a sparkle of mischievousness and playfully swatted Oliver's bum.

"I should be," Oliver agreed, smiling cheekily. "But I'm not."

Percy rolled his eyes good naturedly and opened up his computer. "Quiet, now,' he ordered mildly. "I don't want her hearing you."

Phoebe had a tendency to bring up irrelevant subjects in class that had absolutely nothing to do with the lesson. Other times she was late to another class because she stayed on chat with Percy to talk about anything and everything she wholeheartedly believed he needed to know. So, being that she was in his first hour of the day, he let her get on early so she could get everything out of the way ahead of time.

In a very unPrecy like manner, he curled up on the couch, with his feet facing one way and the computer resting on his lap. He clicked on Zoom, waiting for his students to sign on. In the meantime, Oliver moved Percy's legs, raising them up a bit and sat down, laying them on top of his upper thighs. The redhead raised his eyebrows but his boyfriend merely smiled innocently.

He didn't buy it one bit.

Oliver began to gently rub Percy's legs, massaging them. The redhead would be lying if he said it didn't feel good. "I know what you're trying to do," Percy closed his eyes.

"I'm just giving you a massage, love," Oliver momentarily passed, grabbing Percy's hand to press a kiss to his knuckles.

Quiet, Percy mouthed as Phoebe's window screen popped up. Immediately, red came into his vision. A bright red. She'd dyed the ends of her hair red with some muggle beverage. Today, she wore her hair in two knots on top of her head with the end pieces sticking upward for the world to see. She beamed as soon as she saw him, bouncing in her chair. He couldn't help but smile back. She was contagious in that aspect.

"Hello, Professor Weasley!"

"Hello, Phoebe," he said, warmly. "I trust you had a good weekend?"

"oh, yes! Unless you count my mum's mood swings. I think she's going through menopause."

"I see," Percy said as he noticed Oliver trying not to laugh and waved him off for it.

"Your mum's still around, right? Is she going through menopause, too?"

That was just something he preferred not to think about. "Remember what I said about asking inappropriate questions?"

"Yes," she nodded, more like bobbed her head up and down. "But it's not like I asked something personal."

"Actually-"

"Professor Weasley, how old are you?"

"Excuse me?" Percy raised his eyebrows.

"You're like thirty five, right?"

Percy spluttered indignantly. Oliver was laughing in one of the couch pillows to keep from being heard. "I'm not even thirty yet!"

"Really?"

"Yes," he said shortly.

"Woooow. Talk about being unlucky."

Percy pinched the bridge of his nose. He loved his job....he loved his job....he loved his students....

His thoughts were broken through by an excited squeal. "Oh my gosh! You should totally let me give you a makeover! I read this magazine and I can totally make you look twenty."

"As kind as that is," Percy lied through his teeth, "I'm afraid I'll have to decline."

She pouted.

Percy inwardly sighed in relief when the rest of the class popped up. They said their hello's and he allowed the kids a few minutes to talk before he dove into the lesson. All the while, Oliver had a free period so he stayed where he was, poking and touching Percy. First it was his knees, drawing circles on them. Then he grabbed the red-head's hand again, interlocking their fingers. When they couldn't keep it like that, Oliver's hand slithered up to Percy's bum--to what he could reach anyway--and the red-head gave him a subtle warning look.

He let out a grunt when Oliver gave it a squeeze. Oh, he was so in trouble once school was over. If it weren't for the fact he was still in charge of twenty five students, he would toss the laptop aside and tackle Oliver now. Soon, he promised himself. Right after class when he had a bit of a break.

"Professor Weasley!"

"What's he staring at?"

"I dunno."

"He looks constipated. Professor, are you constipated? I can relate. See just the other day-"

"No, Phoebe," he said, cutting her off. "I'm fine. Sorry everyone, just spaced out for a moment."

Discreetly, he mouthed to Oliver, this is all your fault

Oliver looked pleased.

Percy rolled his eyes.

"Professor, I was thinking about something."

"Yes, Phoebe?" He said, warily.

"You totally need a date!"

He spluttered. "Excuse me?"

Some of his students snickered and giggled.

"Men your age need that companionship. And the sex. Unless you're like a virgin," she said with a thoughtful expression. "Are there virgins at your age? Oooh, if not you could be the world's oldest virgin! Do wizards have a record book? Muggles do. I think you get money for it...."

Oliver's face was fairly red now from trying to refrain from laughing out loud.

He sighed heavily. He did not get paid enough for this job. "That is inappropriate to ask-"

"Do you fancy anyone? I could totally set you up. I've seen a gazillion rom coms. I know what to do!"

Percy checked the time. No he couldn't leave yet. He sat up straighter, figuring that if he started the lesson now, he could salvage what was left of the time.

And his dignity.

Suddenly, someone--Phoebe, of course-- let out a gasp.

" Professor, you're wearing Professor Wood's shirt!"

Percy's head snapped down to look at it. It wasn't anything distinctive that could be traced back to his boyfriend. Nothing about Puddlemere or how much of a fanatic he was (he'd gotten a shirt like that as a gift for Oliver's birthday once). Just a plain olive green shirt. How did she-

Oliver was surprised too.

"How do you know?" One of his other students demanded.

"isn't it obvious? He's worn it before."

"You also said it makes his muscles pop," someone else pointed out.

Shamelessly, Phoebe agreed and added, "No offense, Professor Weasley, but that looks hideous on you. That is so not your color."

"It's a good thing I have you, Phoebe. Otherwise I might have worn the bloody thing outside," Percy deadpanned.

She nodded vigorously in agreement. Then something seemed to click in her mind. "Oh my gosh!" She let out another squeal. "Do you guys know what this means?!"

Her classmates simply blinked.

"If Professor Weasley is wearing Professor Wood's shirt....they must be together or something!"

Alarm was clouded over Percy's face. He was rendered speechless at how she'd figured it out. Oliver jumped to his feet and came around to the camera on the laptop so the kids could see him. "Hey, kids," he waved.

"No way!" Phoebe exclaimed excitedly. "Hi Professor Wood! I can't believe you hooked up with our History professor. This is so cool! Everyone thinks you're both hot. This is like double hot....like fire!"

Both men regarded her with amusement.

"I feel like I should warn you, Professor Wood, that if you break Professor Weasley's heart, there's gonna be problems."

"Oh?"Oliver chuckled.

Phoebe nodded. "He's the nicest professor ever and if you make him cry just know I'm good with a knife."

"I have no intention of breaking Perc-Professor Weasley's heart," Oliver reassured her and kissed Percy on the forehead. The girls awwed and the boys grumbled about how gross it was.

Percy was grinning broadly. He'd been wrong about all this. Perhaps they didn't need to hide in the first place.

__

After class was over with, Percy placed the laptop on the floor and laid on the couch with Oliver on top of him, his head resting on his chest. The red-head threaded his fingers through his boyfriend's hair, craning at his neck at times to nuzzle him.

"Do you regret telling them?" Oliver murmured.

"No," Percy decided, dropping a kiss on Oliver's soft hair. "Not one bit."

"Me either."

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Even if you are the world's oldest virgin."

"Oh shut up!"

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Four / Irish Coffee

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader

W/C: 3k

Warnings: alcohol, language, sexual harassment, physical fighting, Javi is a legend for this chapter/next lmao, reader wears makeup and heels but clothing is otherwise not described

A/N: HI I’m gonna forgo summaries for this series from now on, if anyone has an issue with that pls lmk and we can go back to it, I’m just sick of using like the same summary lmao! Hope you guys like it, idk when chapter 5 will come but somewhat soon!

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Irish coffee: a cocktail consisting of hot coffee, Irish whiskey, and sugar, stirred, and topped with cream. The coffee is drunk through the cream.

Four nights after you first kissed Javier, and now many kisses later, Javier insists he take you to the one place he knows in D.C.: a nice bar in the downtown area. You’d spent the days visiting museums and monuments, giving him a tour of the Georgetown campus too. He’d hum along to the radio in your shitty car while you drove place to place. He surprised you with how much modern music he knew.

If the past four days have been getting to know Javier, privately becoming acquainted with each other’s minds and lips, tonight is some kind of grand exposition. Your brief whirlwind of a romance has been contained to your coffee shop and small restaurants off the beaten path. Javier is a well-connected man; he’s sure to know people downtown. From what he’s explained to you, he’s somewhat of a powerhouse in the DEA. Everyone downtown knows a version of the man, who goes by Agent Peña, but all you know is your Javi, your Javi who kisses you goodnight after buying you cupcakes, who drinks your peppermint mochas like it’s the nectar of the gods.

So, it’s safe to say you’re nervous. If he’s bringing you somewhere where he will know people, which he offhandedly told you, you’re going to be the living legend’s date for the night. As you stare into the mirror, your brow furrows in concentration, drawing a line across your eyelid with a pencil of kohl, your phone rings on the vanity in front of you. It makes you jump and the eye pencil drag upwards across your eyelid- most definitely not where you intended it to go. “Fuck!” you shout in annoyance and toss the pencil down. When you pick up, your voice shows your frustration. “Hello?” You ask sharply.

“Hey, abejita,” a smooth voice answers: who else but Javier. 

“Hi, Javi,” you sigh as you press the button, moving the call to the speakerphone. “You made me fuck up my eyeliner.”

“Sorry. Just calling to talk.”

His words make you smile and your ears feel warm as they rush with blood. You aren’t picking him up for another hour. “What, you couldn’t wait that long to talk?” You ask him, biting down on your painted lips with a smile. 

“No. I’m bored and I miss you.” It’s true, he thinks to himself. He hasn’t seen you all day. After spending the last three days in nearly 24-hour contact, he misses the sound of your laughter and the way your soft lips feel pressed against his stubbled cheek. 

“Well, I suppose it’s been…” you trail off as you calculate, “about 20 hours since I’ve seen you. I”m practically going through withdrawals,” you laugh, and it makes Javier’s chest warm to hear that beautiful sound, even through the tinny receiver of the hotel’s phone. “You know, if you have a cute nickname for me, I need to have something equally cute for you.”

“There’s a difference, abejita,” Javier teases, opening the hotel window to smoke out of. “You’re cute. I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“I am many things, little bee, but I am not cute,” Javier chuckles as he sticks the cigarette between his lips and lights it up.

“Well, I think you are,” you refute in a stubborn tone. “You bought me cupcakes on our first date. That’s cute. You come to my work and bring me treats and kiss me in front of my coworkers. That’s cute too.”

Javier shakes his head. Sure, the things could be classified as cute, he supposes, but they’re not the normal Javier. Sexy, rude, intelligent, any of those words could describe him. He’s a playboy, a heartbreaker, and all in all is, by principle, a lone wolf. Well, he was. He’s been chasing Escobar for years and years… and now he’s dead. Maybe he can allow himself to start anew, and this new beginning has to have you in it.

He takes a slow drag from the cigarette, getting lost in his own thoughts and forgetting to answer. The silence makes you suspicious. “Javi? Did I lose you?”

The words snap him back to reality. “No, I’m here. I’m sorry, I… zoned out there.”

“Good,” you smile as you wipe off the messy eyeliner and apply a new, perfectly winged layer of the dark makeup. “I suppose I’ll just have to see what comes. Nicknames have to be earned, not given. Did you ever have any nicknames when you were little?” You ask as you brush a sparkling powder over your eyes.

Javier thinks for a second, almost to the point where you have to ask again if he’s there. That seems to be Javier’s biggest flaw so far. “No, not really. Sometimes the other kids would call me Peñita. Didn’t like that one,” he chuckles, and you can hear air rush past the microphone as he exhales the smoke into the ever-darkening D.C. sky. “My mom had all kinds of names for me, but they were the things you’d call a little kid.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you and you need to speak. “That’s cute. Tell me about your parents,” you ask him as you continue to brush various makeup products across your face.

Javier shakes his head. “That’s more of an over-drinks topic, I think.”

“When have you ever held back information from me?” You scoff lightly, as if you’ve known him a thousand years. It hits you as you say it, the whirlwind this entire thing has been. You’ve known Javier for five days, and he’s already everything to you. And he’s going back to Colombia in 3 weeks. It makes your heart sink in your chest, and anxiety creeps in, the realization that he might not be falling as quickly as you are. Maybe it’s time to pull back a little, you tell yourself. He won’t be here long.

“Ha,” he says dryly and takes another drag from his cigarette. “Well, I’m ready when you are, if you want to come get me a little earlier.”

His emotionless tone makes you panic. You wonder if you just went somewhere you shouldn’t have by asking about his parents, if you’ve just crossed some line you didn’t know existed. You desperately want to ask him, to reassure yourself and get rid of the worry slowly collecting in your gut, but you don’t. You can’t. You shouldn’t. “I’m still getting ready,” you tell him, and it’s truthful. “I’ll be there at 7, like we said. Is that alright?” you ask. 

Javier blows a breath of smoke into the night, the cloud of smoke mingling with the heat puff of his breath. “Sounds good to me. I’ll leave you alone to get ready,” he tells you with a small smile.

“Alright. I’ll see you then. You’re wearing something nice, right?” You clarify one last time. 

“Whatever you wear will be beautiful on you. Don’t worry about it.” Javier, ever the king of flattery, looks down and appraises his own outfit. “But yes, I’m wearing something nice.”

You smile at the reassurance, looking down at the swirling colors of your makeup palette. “Well, thank you. I’ll see you in a bit.” -

You have to say you’re surprised at the level of refinement of the hotel. You’d expected the DEA would’ve put Javier at some shitty little hotel, but it’s surprisingly nice. You remember a few days ago, the sheer terror masked behind a stoic face, but you chuckle as you consider that this famed agent had very few context clue skills. This hotel is nice, a couple of stars at least. Why would they put him here if they were firing him?

Javier stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray when he sees your car approaching, straightening his sport coat. You hold back a grin as he walks over, but the fighting ends when you see him smile as he opens the door and slides in. 

“Hi,” you beam at him, and he leans across the center console, stealing a kiss.

“Hey.” He sneaks one more kiss, one that lasts a little longer and dares to use a bit of tongue. He only breaks away when you do with a laugh. 

“My foot is on the brake right now; be careful but kiss me one more time,” you ask of him with a grin, and he happily complies, cupping your face and kissing you. When he breaks away, your eyes open slowly and you can’t hold in your happiness. “Alright, now we’re going. You’ll have to guide me,” you tell him, and he nods. 

“Sure. You’re just going to go out of here and onto that street to the right,” he says and points the way for you.

Your car follows the path, nodding along to Javier’s instructions. “Jesus, that’s a fancy place. How much does that hotel cost a night?” You marvel as you stare at the gorgeous building in your rearview mirror.  

Javier shrugs. “I’m about to find out. They’re only paying for a few nights for me, then I’m on my own. I’m guessing it isn’t cheap,” he chuckles as he looks over his shoulder. “Or I might switch hotels. Don’t know yet.”

Frowning, you take a turn he’d earlier instructed you to follow. The hotel fades from sight, the dark blue of the December night filling your rearview instead. “Well, I know of a place you could stay for way cheaper.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, adjusting in his seat to face toward you more. “What is that, pretty thing?” He asks, a hand resting on your thigh. 

“Stop,” you giggle and rest one hand atop of his. His fingers are much larger than yours, a fact that makes you shudder as his fingertips find bare skin there. “Pretty thing? That’s weak,” you tease, and Javier just rolls his eyes. “I was going to say you could stay with me, but now I’m not sure,” you say teasingly, eyes locked on the road and most certainly off of Javier. 

His brow furrows. “Well, I can pay you then.”

You shake your head. “Javi. We’re dating… aren’t we?” You ask, the hesitancy creeping into your voice. Now that you say it aloud, you’re not entirely sure that you are. “I mean, I don’t know, I just kind of thought,” you stumble over your speech, word-vomiting out whatever you can to backtrack. 

The man next to you tilts his head, but he nods. “I… I haven’t dated anyone in a long time,” he admits, his fingers starting to slowly grip your thigh rather than rest atop it. “Is this what dating is like to you?”

You nod too, knowing he’s watching you, staring down at the steering wheel. “I… yeah?”

A small smile cracks on his face, making the mustache there twitch softly. “Then I guess I’d say we’re dating. But that doesn’t matter, I don’t want to live in your place rent-free for three weeks.”

“It’s an extended vacation,” you chuckle and bring your hand back to the steering wheel to have two hands for a turn. “Don’t worry about it. I’d like having you around. We’ve already been together nonstop for a couple of days. What’s a little more?” You ask as you look over at him, seeing his eyes soften and his forehead relax from its tightened state. “And besides, any hotel is going to be painfully expensive right now. D.C. during the holidays makes the hotel rates skyrocket.”

He nods as you speak, processing the idea. “Well, do you have a guest room? I don’t want to invade your space, I can sleep on the couch if you don’t, or I can stay in a hotel.”

“Javier,” you chuckle, putting your own hand on his thigh to reassure him. “We’re not moving in together permanently. You’ll stay with me until you need to go back to Colombia, and that’s that.” Your mind has been made up. He can’t argue it, and he knows it from the firmness in your grip on his leg, in the way your body goes rigid as if the words are some formal deal that requires a handshake.

“How do you know I’m not some serial killer who does exactly this to lure you to your death?” Javier asks dryly as he looks over at you, lifting a hand to trace the side of your face slowly.

“Because you’re Javier Peña. Your name was in the newspaper next to Steve’s. You work for the DEA.”

“Some of the guys I work with could definitely be serial killers, that doesn’t discount anything,” Javier grumbles, which makes you laugh and makes him even grumpier. 

“The fact that you said that to me in the first place is my proof, Javi,” you chuckle and pat his thigh softly. “I’m an excellent judge of character. I just graduated from 7 straight years of studying psychology. Remember that?” Javier’s quiet and you know you’ve won. “Then tonight we’ll get your stuff after dinner and get you settled in my place. How does that sound?”

He’s quiet again, studying your face and the way your cheeks move with your lips, the way your brows rise and fall when he’s being ridiculous. He’s just as trained as you are, with 10+ years on you to prove his competence. You like him. You might even love him already, he thinks to himself. Your pretty lips purse at his silence and he finally cracks. “That sounds great, abejita.” Javier leans across the console to kiss your cheek, which makes you shiver softly, like any touch from the man does. “Thank you.”

“Thank me by buying me some drinks, huh?” You tease, turning back to focus on the road. 

-

The bar was nice. Really nice, you learned as you walked in. It projected the essence of Javier to you; naturally, you loved it from the moment you looked around. The room had a low ceiling and wood paneling around the walls, a floor that your short heels clacked upon as you walked to the only open stools- well, only one stool, you realized as you walked. Javier walked behind you, a hand on the small of your back, admiring your legs in the outfit you wore. 

When you finally found the available spot, where you’re now sipping a drink, you’d found that there was only one stool. 

“Do you want to go sit in the restaurant?” You asked Javier as you nodded with your head to the side of the establishment with tables and booths.

He shook his head and pulled out the stool. “You sit. I’ll stand.”

“Javi-”

“Just sit, abejita. I’ve been sitting all day. I can handle a little standing,” he chuckles and kisses your head, gesturing to the stool. When you sit, he smiles down at you and wraps his arms around you loosely from behind. You lean back against his strong chest.

Over the past few days, you and Javier have made infrequent contact, a hug in greeting or in goodbye and plenty of shared kisses. This, however, speaks directly to your touch-starved soul, the way his body practically encompasses you. He orders himself a whiskey and the drink you’d ordered on the first night you met him for you, then continues to stand there.

You crane your head around to look at him, smiling. “I love this place already,” you say, admiring the way you can hear over the hum of the other patrons and the quiet music playing. You’re much more accustomed to places your friends would drag you, where it was more for the cheap drinks than the atmosphere. 

The crow’s feet by his eyes are more pronounced as he smiles at you, but he looks even younger as his lips curve up softly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Shit, is that Peña?” A loud voice calls from somewhere else in the building, and Javier turns, his face falling flat then smiling as he sees the voice behind it. 

“Be right back,” he murmurs and presses a kiss into the top of your head. 

It’s someone he recognizes, that’s for sure, as the man and Javier wrap their arms around each other and firmly pat the other’s back. “No shit! When did you get back to D.C., man?” The other guy asks. “Escobar just died and they’re already sending you back?”

The bartender delivers your drink, and you turn your back to Javier, thanking them and sipping at your liquor. Over your shoulder, you can hear the man and Javier talk shop, about Colombia and their days as DEA trainees, about Escobar’s recent death and Javi’s recent promotion. You glance over your shoulder at him, smiling as he easily talks with the group. You’ve not had the privilege of seeing Javier with his friends- or what seem to be his friends- yet, and he seems fairly social but humble. You appreciate that.

The talking goes on for a while, and you sip at your drink and look around the bar, appreciating the wood that makes a nice noise as your fingernails tap against it rhythmically. 

When your drink is about half-drained, the bartender sets another in front of you. It’s different from what you were drinking, a fluorescent neon color surely made by a mix of ridiculously fruity liqueurs. You look at the bartender with confusion and they nod to a man at the end of the bar. He’s not looking at you, which makes it all the easier to stare at the drink in confusion and disgust rather than drink it. His tie is absolutely egregious, boldly patterned in bright colors. There’s not an ounce of taste about this man.

The drink goes untouched, sitting in front of you as you study it. There seems to be layers, maybe, or maybe the mixed alcohols just congealed awkwardly. You sip your drink and then Javier’s whiskey, refusing to drink whatever fucking concotion sits in front of you.

Five or ten more minutes pass of Javier talking with his friends. You don’t mind- you know the feeling of catching up with people you haven’t seen in a long time. In that time, the drink remains untouched, and you ask the bartender for a refill of your go-to drink.

Not long after the second one arrives, you feel a hand on the curve of your back. You turn, hoping it’s Javier, and instead find it to be the man at the end of the bar who ordered you the drink: Tie Guy. Panic sets in immediately and you arch your back to dodge the hand, which only follows your spine. “Hey. Thought you’d like this drink. You tried it yet?” The man asks, voice clearly showing that he knows you haven’t. 

“No,” you say with a swallow, turning away from him. “Not exactly my style.”

“I thought it was such a pretty drink for such a pretty thing.”

Pretty thing. When Javier called you that earlier, even though the name wasn’t one you liked, it was at least endearing. To hear it again, dripping with sleaze and ill intentions, you shiver and push it further away. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s not my type of drink. My boyfriend will be right back, and-” you try, hating the defense you try to pull.

“He drinks whiskey,” Tie Guy says and gestures to Javier’s ¾ full glass. “No fun. Boring. Too manly, pretentious. Real men can drink something fun like these and not need to worry about someone thinking they don’t have a set of balls,” he says and his fingers trace the rim of the martini glass the concoction sits in. Now you’re definitely not drinking it, now that he’s touched it. 

“Please, I’m not interested,” you try, turning around to face the man that towers over your seated body. “I’d appreciate it if-”

“Hey,” a familiar voice- thank fuck, it’s Javier- calls from behind you. “Excuse me,” he says and pushes Tie Guy out of the way, his arm wrapping around you. It’s a relief, a grip meant entirely for comfort and not for the coercion the man across from you had tried. You melt into it instantly. “She said to back the fuck off, or could you not fucking tell?” He hisses at the man. Javier pulls away from you, stepping towards the man who instinctively steps back.

“Whiskey drinker,” the man snorts and rolls his eyes. “So manly, so over the top. Gotta let everyone know that you’re the alpha, the dominant male, huh?” He asks, getting in Javier’s face. He’s taller than your Javier, but lankier. The fact that Javier could take him crosses your mind, though you hope desperately that it doesn’t come to that.

“What I drink doesn’t fucking matter,” Javier says and shoves his chest. “What matters is that you’re fucking harassing my girlfriend. Back the fuck off,” he says and turns from the man, back to you, his hand on your upper arm. “You okay?” he asks quietly, and you respond with a nod and a forced, close-lipped smile.

“Yep, go ahead, go back to your little prude,” the man laughs drunkenly, his voice full of vitriol. “Oh, no, I bet she loves to act all shy, but then she’s a kinky little thing in bed, isn’t she?” He asks, taunting Javier. “Ties your ass up and whips you, with that sass. I wonder if she-”

The sentence isn’t finished. Javier’s fist flies through the air and connects with the man’s face, followed by a loud, ringing thud as the taller body hits the floor.

-

caffeine rush taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @yooforia @oceanablue @sara-alonso @pedrosmustache @feelingmadclever @hnt-escape @radiowallet @obsessivelysearching @sugarontherims @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @linnie0119 @1800-fight-me @autumnleaves1991-blog @toilet-keeper @evelynseventyr @metalarmsandmanbuns @shannababyy @sambucky21 @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @theorganasolo @jagi-yaaa @mrsparknuts @tacticalsparkles

[ushidoux]

Be My Last - Iwaizumi x  Reader (Pt. 5)

Summary: You have trouble getting over a past relationship and it’s preventing you from moving forward. (~1.6 words)

Warnings: angst, mention of kid and implied marriage.

A/N: We’re at the end here! I hope you’re okay with the way this ended, and if not... *shrug* LOLLLL, we can talk about it. Thanks for reading up to now!! <333 See you in my next fic!!

Part 1|| Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

-

Iwaizumi returned late that evening to realize that you were nowhere to be found.

It shouldn’t have been this alarming for him to not see you hanging upside down off the edge of the couch watching tv, futzing around in the kitchen, maybe staring out off the small balcony or snuggled up under the covers.

But you were absent, and on top of everything, the sight of a dark home proved to be too much for him to handle. Moreover, the home hadn’t always really been his, had it? It was yours and Ushijima’s far before he’d even come into the picture.

He had just been filling a space, just as he’d promised you.

He checked his phone only to be further defeated by the lack of a text message to let him know you were going out. You always let him know.

Iwaizumi turned on his heels and went back to his car. The roads were clearer now and he needed to drive. He needed to go, somewhere. It didn’t matter where to.

Years pass.

“Hot cocoa, please!”

Your daughter collapsed in your arms as she made this request, having run in your direction from the opposite side of the sitting room. She grinned widely, her brownish-green eyes seeming to sparkle despite the low light of the room. She is truly the happiest child, you thought for a moment, smiling as you mussed her hair affectionately.

“Okay, baby, we can get some,” you agreed, pulling her close for a kiss on the forehead, because how could you say no to that pure joy on her face?

“Did you have fun with your new friends?” You asked, rising.

You’d been watching her for a while now, seated in an overstuffed armchair by a roaring fire, thankful to be insulated from the frigid winter weather (turned out the cold of Eastern Europe was an entirely different type of cold than you were used to). It was a pleasure to see her discharge energy, bouncing around the other little kids at the ski lodge resort you’d been residing at since this past weekend.

She nodded. “That’s why I’m gonna drink it really fast so we can play some more!”

You chuckled, and held her little hand tightly. At least someone was having fun.

You on the other hand had decided you hated skiing with a passion six hours into the vacation after spilling spectacularly more than enough times on one of the beginner slopes. Not wanting to ruin your husband’s fun, you’d convinced him to let you stay behind with your four-year-old so that she could socialize, you could have a break, and he could try one of the more exciting slopes. 

Everyone won.

Well, sorta. He’d pouted as he set out on his own, and now you felt a little bad. Maybe you’d try again the next morning for him after you left your little one at a kids’ event.

“Is Daddy coming back soon?” 

Your little princess’ legs swung excitedly as she sipped her hot cocoa with far too many marshmallows, just after you’d blown at it a little to make sure she didn’t burn herself.

“Daddy will join us soon,” you assured her, your own hands warm with a cup of tea.

---

“I’m sorry.”

Before you is a glass of water with too much lemon. You’re seated at a diner, the very diner where you’d first confessed your feelings for him, and he’s speaking to you but you barely hear him - all you hear is the rushing of blood in your temples. 

Why now? What do you do with sorry after all this time?

Wakatoshi sees your expression and cracks a weary smile. 

“I shouldn’t say that, should I? It’s too little, too late.”

He’s right but you don’t answer.

It’s weird to see him after all these years, seated just across from you as though you were on a date as usual. You can imagine a heaping stack of pancakes between you, covered in too much fruit and too much syrup and him chastising you before you force a berry into his mouth. You can imagine laughter. You can imagine gentle touches, kisses, hugs. You can imagine the words ‘I love you.’

Is that what he’s sorry for?

“To-... Wakatoshi, why did you message me?” You don’t mean to sound curt, but if you speak longer you feel as though your voice will give out.

He winces almost imperceptibly at the use of his full name. But he’s always been steadier than you, emotion-wise. At least you think so.

“I wish it had been different.”

“So do I,” you say, quickly before thinking. But you don’t really, do you? 

There’s a man who loves you, possibly more than he loves himself, than he loves anything in the world. And if it weren’t for this, for Ushijima ‘releasing’ you, no matter how harshly, you wouldn’t have had the experience to be loved by him.

“I was wrong.”

He was. He was absolutely wrong. But what’s wrong and what’s right no longer matters. What matters is what is.

He pauses and sighs. You can see his hands now grip the end of the table as though to keep steady. 

“Thank you for coming.”

There is another pause, one that is suddenly too great for you to handle, where you want to sigh but instead you draw in a double breath.

You’re embarrassed because you do not intend to cry. Not after all this. Not in front of him. 

“You didn’t love me enough to compromise,” you end up sputtering out.

Your tears aren’t falling yet but your eyes swim and you blink them back furiously. “Why all this? Why now?”

He blinks once and you can see his fingers tighten around the edge of the booth, knuckles white.

“I was stupid then. I’m different now.”

The fact that his eyes are so sincere makes your heart wrench. You know that he doesn’t lie, he’s never felt a need to.

It’s a response that infuriates you but your anger is cool rather than hot and it’s diffuse, deafening and directionless. There’s no one to be mad at except the very fabric of time.

What do I do with this? What can I do?

Your heart settles, and you measure your next words carefully. 

---

“Daddy!”

Your daughter’s eyes widened immediately as she saw him approach behind you, and in mere seconds, she jumped out of her chair to embrace her father, nearly knocking over her hot cocoa in the process. You managed to salvage it to your credit, and you turned in your chair to flash a teasing grin.

“How were the slopes?”

---

“There was once a time where I would have followed you anywhere if you asked me to. Maybe it was unhealthy, maybe it was naïve, but I truly loved you to that extent. I would have left everything behind if you asked.”

The solemn look he sports on his face, so stoic as a defense mechanism that it seems almost caricature-like, only confirms that he knew. He knew that every word you said was true, and yet... 

“I thought it was the best decision at the time. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Maybe he was right. That sort of reckless love, especially when not reciprocated in earnest could only result in pain. 

His intentions were good. They were good. That’s what matters.

He had a reason.

----

Hajime frowned at you, which in turn made his little princess, now perched on his hip frown as well. 

“Your mother’s not being very nice, now is she?” He murmured, as he approached, now settling her back in the chair across from you. “She didn’t even want to ski with me!”

His arms crossed over his chest as he stood beside you now, a pretend-grumpy look on his face.

Your four year-old gasped. “What?! Mommy’s mean? Are you a bully?”

“Hey!” You nudged Iwa in the ribs. “Don’t make me out to be the bad guy! I’m coming with you tomorrow!”

To this, your husband’s eyes lit up, and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, resting his chin on your head.

“You’d do that for me, my clumsy little penguin?” He whispered, just low enough that your little girl, who had now contented herself back to drinking her hot cocoa couldn’t hear.

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“If you keep making fun of me, you’ll be on your own again, and possibly so for the rest of this vacation,” you grumbled back, but he laughed in earnest to your threat, pressing a quick kiss on your cheek before dragging the nearest chair towards your table to complete your circle.

“So what do my favorite girls want for dinner?”

---

When Ushijima’s hands finally relax, and he places them clasped together on the table, you find yourself reaching for them. It’s no longer a natural, intrinsic movement of the arm and hand, the way it was years ago when you always yearned for physical contact. It’s now measured and intentional.

You squeeze his hands and they feel different. They’re larger, colder, rougher than Iwa’s are. It’s not a bad thing; just not the same. You can imagine that intertwining your fingers with his would feel imperfect, maybe even wrong.

You’ve changed. And he’s changed.

“Wakatoshi…”

You pause, and your hands linger. 

It’s hard to look in his eyes when you say this, but you do anyway. Their eyes are almost the same color, but Iwa’s are greener. An old idiom comes to mind and you banish it from your mind.

“You will always be my first love, but Hajime will be my last one.”

[mammons-tax-returns]

How would the brothers react to a very punk goth Mc like platforms and all black and just the whole shebang he’s very nice but also will throw hands (there’s not enough male Mc your doing the good work my dude)

BROTHERS REACTING TO A GOTH/PUNK MC

Perfect way to start off the new blog !! Thank you for requesting, hope this is what you had in mind <3 (and that it’s not too apparent that i’m not super well versed in punk or goth culture ACK)

I hope that you guys don’t mind some being shorter than others, I’m still getting a hang of personalities!

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Lucifer is probably one of the ones that’s into the style from the very beginning.

As soon as he sees MC, his interest is clearly shown on his face.

Sometimes, he’ll drop compliments on his fashion. Depending on his reponses, he’ll start getting more apparent with just how much he enjoys seeing his outfit everyday.

GIFTS!! He’s not mammon level of stacks upon stacks of gift wrapped boxes, but he’ll certainly stop by your room every once in a while with a new accessory he saw while shopping.

MC will probably notice that he is especially keen on chokers :).

Stares discreetly, but consistently. When Lucifer invites him to listen to music in his room, he waits until MC is occupied with something like a book or the music. Then sneaks glances at him to see how his clothing moves every time he reaches over for something, or how the necklace he bought the other day glints in the light radiating off of the fireplace.

He knows that MC is nice, and grows increasingly more and more worried for his sake because of that. The exchange program is important, but his treasure perpetually adorned in black garbs is significantly more prominent in his concerns.

So when he sees MC readily defending himself against some low level demon with no hesitation? Holy fuck. He starts to panic, but there’s nothing surpressing his respect for him, as it only grows stronger.

Although, it becomes very apparent that he’d have to do something about all of his brothers’ staring at MC.

Mammon is so into it. Like... So into it.

We all know and love that our tsundere boy has a problem with getting embarrassed, but how could he NOT get flustered everytime he’s face to face with an alternative KING

At first, he actually tries to tell MC how much he appreciates his aesthetic, but fails every time. Stuttering is a difficult thing to overcome when you can barely breathe out of embarrassment.

When he finally brings himself to actually get a compliment out, it’s accompanied with his signature bashful look. Downcast gaze and shifting posture and everything.

Upon recieving a positive response to his words, he takes it as a sign that he should start doing it more often. And so... That’s exactly what he does!

Compliments upon compliments, expensive outfits and accessories finding their way into his room, MC gets it all.

He ADORES the nice personality. So really. This MC is one of the people that Mammon can’t help but get along with. Nice, can throw hands, AND IS FASHIONABLE? Now you’re speaking his language.

They definitely get called a model power couple, even if MC isn’t a model.

Will definitely mention the idea of MC doing a photoshoot with him for work, but won’t press further if he says he’s not comfortable with it.

Levi geeks out so badly

So yeah, his initial interest in MC is kickstarted by his fashion reminding him of a badass video game character, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate him for who he is!!

He actually doesn’t know whether to be sad that he doesn’t have the same amount of fashion sense or to be happy that he has MC as his best friend that does.

But after a bit of positive affirmation from MC, he’ll surely settle with the latter. (and also hope for them to become more than best friends :). )

He finds himself subconsciously posting about MC in his socials. Normally it’s filled with “Lucifer just did (blank)” but now, it’s ALL about MC. Nothing else. MC fan account.

We know that Levi draws, and so I have no doubts that he would be drawing every outfit he sees MC in.

At first, he’s only drawing faceless figures in the clothes, probably adding his own personal flair. But as time progresses and Levi gets closer to him, he starts subconsciously conpleting the figure’s appearance (hair, face, stature, etc). And before he knows it, half of his pages are filled with doodles of MC.

But if he were to ever find out that MC saw his art, RIP Leviathan 2020

And who’s to say he’s not drawing him in... Risqué outfits.

But if MC says that he doesn’t mind getting drawn, then Levi will activate cute fanboy mode again.

He’ll ask him to model outfits for him as he draws, sometimes in cosplay.

MC would just be chillin’ with him in his room, and when Levi finally looks up from his tv after finishing an anime, he’ll sometimes gasp and immediately say, “Stay right there, I HAVE to draw this!”

Although drawing wasn’t and will likely never be his favorite thing to do in comparison to video games/anime, it gives him an excuse to stare at his best friend with minimal blushing.

Satan is good at hiding his appreciation for MC’s outfits. At least, he’s good at it to everyone BUT MC.

If anyone asks, he’s indifferent about MC and his dashing looks and fashion.

But as soon as MC confronts him... Oh boy.

Red-faced, he’ll compliment his clothing on occasion, then wave it off as “something everyone does”. Which is true, but we know that it’s more than just that.

Similarly to Lucifer, he finds himself staring at him secretly. Except, I like to think that he’s less careful about it. Often MC will look up to meet his eyes, before he ducks his head back into his book, acting nonchalant.

Not a single person can convince me that he hasn’t found a stray black cat and discreetly named it after MC.

He wouldn’t hide the fact, but instead would actually bring it up at the right time. Ex: Right before some dramantic moment like before proclaiming how much MC means to him. Both as the cat and human.

The cat’s collars are decorated similarly to the clothing that MC wears! Satan is a diligent worker (especially when putting lucifer through immense stress) and a lover of arts, so he’s pays attention to little details like that.

This is Asmo we’re talking about.

He ADORES the aesthetic.

It’s not something that he himself would wear, but damn is it appealing to the eye.

Once you get him started on all the things he’d do if given the chance to dress MC up in whatever he wanted, you’ll never hear the end of it.

(^ especially when he starts talking about the undressing)

He loves a monochromatic color pallet, but every once in a while he’ll push for a pop of color in MC’s outfit for the day.

If MC wears minimal/no makeup, Asmo will constantly ask if he can use his face as a canvas for makeup experimentation while he rants about his nail tech.

Asmo’s favorite activity is going through MC’s closet. He gets to not only try things on, but he also gets to know what he has to work with when choosing MC’s outfits for their days out together.

Knows the perfect boutiques to bring him to

“You know, the color black really accentuates your figure... And if you look this good with it on, I wonder how great you look with it off~”

Beel isn’t interested in fashion or anything related to it. He isn’t picky about the presentation of things (namely; food.)

So he wouldn’t be immediately enticed upon first meeting MC.

But that is not to say that he doesn’t find him VERY pleasing to the eye.

Our sweet boy is not afraid to express his love for those boots!! For the destressed fabrics!! He hangs around him often just so he can sit and ogle at how cool MC looks!! All the damn time!!

Asks MC to come with him to work out just so he could have some motivation by seeing him. And his GAMES. He’s gonna love to see him cheering him on in the stands.

Beel would admit that he himself couldn’t bring himself to care so much about his clothes or ‘aesthetic’ , and couldn’t imagine having such a consistent style.

^ And because of that! He’s dying to see what he looks like in other styles. Of course, if he doesn’t want to change out of the usual attire, just seeing him wearing beel’s huge ass jacket is enough.

Wouldn’t care to buy clothing items for him, but will most certainly stop by devildom’s no. 1 bakery, grab some sweets with that signature gothic devildom appearance and bring it back to the House of Lamentation for him. (Given that he didn’t already eat them.)

In comparison to his personality, MC’s closet isn’t very important.

Beel loves his kind nature! But he will always be there to defend him in any sort of risky situation, especially when any low level demons would like to try and take advantage of MC’s niceness.

Belphie is taken aback the first time he sees him. In the best way possible.

It’s like he just knows that he’s going to be interesting to be with just by seeing his clothing style

He actually probably assumed that MC would be very different from what he’s really like. (Like how people will assume that everyone who wears dark colors often are always sad)

But both to his surprise and not, MC is nothing but kind to him! And he’s kinda like 😳. Damn. Alright. I can get down to this.

Fashion isn’t his expertise, so he isn’t as forward with compliments. It’s mostly, “As long as I’m comfortable when I lay on you, the clothes are fine. Right?”

“I had a dream about you last night... It was like you were some prince clad in black chain mail armor... I suppose we couldn’t make that a reality though, huh? You can be my prince in band tees and ripped jeans.”

The only reason he starts dressing similarly to MC is because of how many times he’ll fall asleep beside him. He knows MC will probably offer one of his jackets or extra shirts, and that he’ll likely get to keep it. (He gives it back eventually, it’s just nice sentiment.)

It’s also kind of entertaining to see some of his brothers go ballistic in response to seeing him adorned in MC’s signature clothes.

[konggodzuko]

Momtara & Dadko

Hello! Back with some more fics, just in time for Zutara month!!! This one is a piece of an old WIP on mine, modified a but and chopped down, but I still think it’s a cute fluffy thing. Ao3 link 

Story:

When the airship had descended to about twenty feet above from the snowy airfield, several crew members rappelled out to the ground, meeting the airfield’s ground crew.

“—and now, the they will work together to use the ropes the aircrew came down on to pull the airship a few more feet and then fasten it down,” Zuko explained.

There was a burble in response, then a small, yet strong hand grabbed his hair and pulled.

Zuko barely reacted, only readjusting the baby in his arms before pulling the hand away from his hair, and muttering, “No, Ursa, don’t grab Daddy’s hair,” before smiling, “Well, you seem to be in a better mood now, Moon Peach. Come on, let’s get back to Mommy and your siblings.”

The father and daughter left the observation deck and made their way through the ship to the royal family’s cabin.

Zuko opened the door and was relieved to see that things had calmed down a bit from earlier. Twelve-year-old Kya was reading a well-worn copy of Love Amongst the Dragons, while seven-year-old Haruki was working on a large drawing of… something he couldn’t see from this angle, and three-year-old Kiviuq was playing with animal toys.

Katara was sitting by the cabin window, and alternated between reading a document — Zuko was fairly certain it was a report on Nationalist movements in the Fire Nation — and staring out the window with a slightly giddy expression.

The entire family was dressed in Water Tribe blues, but the parkas had been foregone as the airship was still warm. Splashes of purple, red and gold accented the blues, to pay homage to the family’s mixed heritage.

The room itself was stately and well-furnished — reflecting the scaled-back royal aesthetic Zuko had come to prefer, with a distinct Water Tribe influence in the decor — but still rather cramped for a family of six used to having a full palace to themselves.

Zuko entered the room and Katara looked over at him, “How is she?”

“She’s fine, we were watching the airmen and ground crew bring the ship in,” he tickled Ursa under her chin, causing her to squeal happily, “And Ursa found Daddy very interesting, right?”

“Mama!” Ursa suddenly called out through her giggles, “Mama!”

Katara put her scroll aside and walked over to the pair. Ursa held out her arms and made grabby hands, so Katara plucked her daughter from Zuko’s hands and began peppering kisses all over the baby’s face.

“It should just be a few minutes before we disembark.”

Katara pulled away from Ursa and said, “I hope so, I want to be out there already,” she smiled at Ursa and started to coo, “isn’t that right, Moon Peach? Mommy is soooo tired of this cabin, and I bet you are too!”

Zuko gave his wife a quick peck on the cheek before leaving the mom and daughter and moving to look over the shoulder of Haruki, “What’re you working on?” The drawing was clearly supposed to be a human, or at least humanoid, but the head looked odd, even for a seven-year-old’s drawing, colored a green-blue with big red eyes. It reminded him of an insect.

“It’s my costume!” Haruki proclaimed, “It’s what I’m gonna wear to fight bad guys!”

Zuko raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Mmhmm!”

“Where’d you get this idea?”

Haruki turned, and looked at his dad with large eyes that sparkled in wonder, “Kya told me about the Blue Spirit and Painted Lady! And how they fought bad guys all over the Fire Nation after you became Firelord!” He gasped, “Did you ever meet them?”

Zuko glanced off to the side, internally cursing his oldest daughter’s obsession with history, then said, “Erm, once or twice.”

“Wow! How cool were they? Are they spirits? Or are they people? Oh! Or are they spirits and people combined? Oh—”

“Sorry, kiddo, but again, I only met them once or twice, and it was very quick. I know what they looked like, but not much else.”

Haruki’s face fell, “Awww…”

Zuko ruffled his son’s hair, then asked, “So why green?”

“‘Cause it’s my second favorite color besides blue! And the Blue Spirit’s already Blue, so I can’t be blue!”

“Ohhh, okay. Well, your drawing’s very, very good.”

“Thanks daddy!” He went back to furiously scribbling with crayons.

“Daddy!” Zuko felt a tug on his pant leg, and he looked down to see Kiviuq staring up at him, holding aloft a wooden dragon. Kiviuq smiled widely when he saw he had hid father’s attention, and then asked quietly, “Dragon breath?”

“Er,” he glanced at Katara who had shot him ‘The Look’, “sorry, Snowball, but dragon breath is an outside thing, remember? Ask me later, okay?”

Kiviuq pouted slightly (and boy could Zuko see Katara in their son’s pout) but said, “Okay…” and wandered back to his corner to continue playing with his toys.

Zuko glanced at Kya and grinned, but didn’t go over to her. She was nose-deep in a book, and he knew that any sort of “unnecessary” distraction would be barely acknowledged. It was how he used to get way back before his banishment, when he just loved to read.

He went back over to Katara, who was bounding Ursa on her knee, much to their daughter’s delight.

“Exited to be back home?” He asked, smiling.

Katara grinned broadly, “I’ve needed this for a while. Everything’s been so—” she waved her hand irritably, “everything in Caldera, I can already feel myself relaxing.”

“You realize that the Council will probably immediately request you to show up at sessions, right?”

She laughed, “That’s fine, I’d still much rather deal with fishery disputes than, well,” she gestured at the scroll she had been reading.

“It’s nothing new, right?” They had had a briefing about the current situation regarding Nationalist violence shortly before their departure. The scroll had arrived via messenger hawk about a day into their flight, along with several other documents that their ministers had deemed important enough to pass on.

She sighed, “Apparently they’re starting to leave the Fire Nation and set up shop in the Republic.”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, “Of course they are,” he shook his head, “Well, nothing can be done about that right now.”

“True,” Katara said.

Their conversation was interrupted by Ursa, who yelled angrily and patted Katara’s knee, which had stopped bouncing at some point.

The parents chuckled, and Katara resumed a gentle bounce.

The family sat in quiet peace for a while as the crews worked to secure the airship so they could depart. Ursa eventually tired out and fell asleep on her mom, but after a few minutes Katara transferred her to Zuko, who had donned a sling to carry the sleeping baby. As the Firelady went back to the report she had b been reading, her husband strode around the room, rocking the baby to keep her asleep.

Eventually, there came a polite knock at the cabin door.

“Come in,” Katara said.

There was a creak as it opened to allow Qibolin, the airship’s captain, to step in. He fell into an immaculate bow and said, “Your Majesties, I am delighted to report that we have officially arrived in the Southern Water Tribe. It also appears that Chief Hakoda has already arrived to greet you.”

“Thank you, Qibolin,” Zuko said, as Katara was already pulling out the parkas and bundling up the children.

It took a few minutes to get everyone properly dressed, but soon the family was moving through the passageways and arrived at the starboard hatch, where a gangway had been extended to the ground. And at the base of the gangway, chatting with a few of the airmen who had rappelled down earlier, was —

“Grandpa!” Kya and Haruki yelled at the same time and shot down the ramp.

Zuko and Katara shouted a simultaneous and useless “Don’t run!” Kiviuq — held by Zuko — shouted and tried to follow his older siblings, but there was no way Zuko was going to let his tiny son toddle down the ramp on his own. Ursa — held by Katara — paid no mind and just snuggled into her mom’s neck.

“Kids!” Hakoda yelled joyfully and leaned at the bottom of the gangway, arms spread wide. Kya and Haruki crashed into him and he wrapped them up in a big hug.

Zuko and Katara gave each other tired looks before continuing down themselves.

[reifromrfa]

Surprises: Vanderwood x MC | Mysme RBB fic

Hi guys! I’m sure you’ve seen this project in the fandom, there are a lot of talented artists and writers who are a part of it ^^ This piece is for the @mysme-rbb and it was such a thrill to write it! I’ve missed writing for the fandom and I’m glad I got this opportunity to do so <3 Even luckier that I got paired with two amazing artists! 

For this first collab, I got paired with the wonderful GLX ! Please check out their instagram HERE!  We’re super lucky to have collaborated on a character we both love: Vanderwood! So I hope you enjoy the story and I hope I can write for everyone again soon ヾ(@^▽^@)ノ PS: I’ll edit this post with the link to the art once it’s out! ^^

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Surprises

In collaboration with gl.artsy 

"Hurry!"

Vanderwood chuckles and closes the car door, hoisting bags and baskets on his arms and shoulders. MC laughs and hugs the beach towels to her chest, grinning widely.

"Sorry...I'm a little excited," her grin turns sheepish but Vanderwood shakes his head, his smile mirroring her own. Seeing her this happy makes him feel things he hasn't felt before --pleasant feelings. Feelings...that a secret agent just doesn't have the luxury to be thinking about, much less feel. But he's not a secret agent anymore --he has a legal job now, one where he doesn't have to risk his life everyday or dirty his hands. Hell, the dirtiest his hands can get with his new job as Jumin's bodyguard is cleaning up after his cat.

With his free hand, he reaches for hers and weaves their fingers together.

Today is their one-year anniversary and Vanderwood wants everything to be absolutely perfect. He's not one for grand gestures and romantic stuff, but he knows celebrations like these matter to girls.

In the past year he's been with MC, he's gotten used to watching those cheesy romantic chick flicks. Never in his life did he imagine he'd be forced to watch those kinds of shi--stuff. But he's braved through The Notepad, A Stroll to Remember, Crazy Silly Love...and he's learned a lot from those movies. For one, his girlfriend ends up crying every time they watch the shows together.

Every. Single. Time.

But he'd see how immersed she is in the scenes where the guys make a big move for the girl. Vanderwood would notice how she heaves a deep sigh and wipes her eyes, a dreamy smile on her face.

Ha...he's new to this relationship thing but he's not stupid; Vanderwood knows how this works. The bigger the gesture, the happier MC will be...

...right?

He's startled out of his thoughts when MC tugs his hand, pointing at a spot on the beach. "Over there! There's a free spot there!"

Vanderwood follows after MC and starts setting up their towels and beach umbrella. This is the first step in his grand surprise for MC today: spend the morning at the beach, a place MC rarely went to. The excited look on her face is all the confirmation he needs; he did good, choosing this as the start of their date.

MC sits on the towel under the shade of the umbrella and takes off her wide-brimmed hat, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opens them, she turns to Vanderwood. "Baby, this is perfect. The skies are clear, there's a breeze and there's not much people; it's almost like we have the beach to ourselves!"

Vanderwood chuckles, sitting beside his girlfriend and reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. "You like it?"

At his touch, she blushes and smiles, nodding her head. "I do, Vanderwood. I really do."

He leans forward, lips quirking up into a smirk. "Good...that's real good, MC." Vanderwood can see the blush on her face deepening as he inches closer and his own heart races, eyes darting to her slightly-parted lips. As he draws nearer though, he hears a whooshing sound through the air and a distant yell: "LOOK OUT!"

His reflexes kick in and Vanderwood pulls MC against his chest then pins her against the ground, using his body to shield her from whatever it is --MC doesn't even have the time to process what's happening. But she feels herself warming, eyes fixated on Vanderwood's tense expression, at the way he's hovering on top of her, holding her protectively against him.

A second later, their umbrella is knocked over and a spray of sand flies across Vanderwood's back. He turns away and shields MC's eyes, a million thoughts already flying through his mind.

"Could it be that some agents found me? How many are there? How am I gonna get MC safely to the car? The taser's in the bag, if I could just reach it in time

"Vanderwood turns his head to look for the target-

-when his eyes fall to the white volleyball lying on the sand near them.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry, that's my fault!!!" A kid with blonde hair is running up to them, waving his hand and trying to bow at the same time. Vanderwood's eyes narrow. Wait a minute...isn't that-

"Yoosung?" comes MC's voice.

Sure enough, Yoosung's purple eyes widen as recognition dawns and he laughs, running faster. Right behind him is the silver-haired actor and Jaehee Kang, all dressed in their beachwear. Zen smiles when he spots the two familiar faces but it only lasts for a second --the moment he realizes the position the couple are in...

"YA!!! Vanderwood! What are you doing!" Zen glares at Vanderwood, pointing an accusatory finger at the Silver Spoon's bodyguard. Vanderwood narrows his gaze at the actor but hurriedly straightens himself, his face feeling warm.

"Baby, are you okay?"

"I am...what was that all about?" MC takes Vanderwood's hand and he pulls her up just as Yoosung stops in front of them, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Sorry! Zen hit the ball too hard and I received it wrong so it went flying...I didn't know it would end up here where you guys are! I didn't even know you two were going to be here too!"

Vanderwood rubs the back of his neck, wishing they'd leave him and MC alone. It's not that he doesn't like them, but today he'd like MC all for himself. "Ha...yeah, what a coincidence."

"Ya, you!" Zen jabs a finger at Vanderwood's chest, eyes blazing. "What the heck was that!"

Vanderwood looks at Zen with a deadpan look on his face. "I thought there was a threat, so I was defending my girlfriend. Will you stop having perverted thoughts?"

MC giggles. "It's true, Zen! He was just trying to protect me~"

"That's very quick thinking." Jaehee pipes in, picking up the ball. "I suppose that's what makes you a great bodyguard, Vanderwood."

"Ha...thanks." Vanderwood feels awkward still, but for an ex-agent with no family and no friends...his life's shaping out real good. Still, friends or not, he wants these people to go away and let him pamper his girlfriend. "So, now that that's settled-"

"OH! Why don't you two join us in a game of volleyball? Please!!! I'm tired of picking up the ball all the time!" Yoosung begs them, hands pressed together in front of him.

"Aww, that sounds fun! We're game, right, baby?" MC says, winking at Vanderwood. To the others, she says, "The two of us will be in a team against you guys! You'll see, Vanderwood will carry our team!"

Vanderwood can't help but feel proud at MC's words. Okay...maybe one game of volleyball wouldn't hurt. After that, they'll go back to their spot and maybe he can go swimming with MC, or get some cool drinks.

~

Yoosung, Jaehee and Zen stayed with them the entire time. After volleyball, they took MC and Vanderwood to their rented cabin and shared their meal. Vanderwood and Zen ended up grilling meat and seafood for the rest but it was actually fun. The non-stop chatter and laughs, the volleyball games, seeing MC enjoy herself --okay okay, it's not so bad that their first date got interrupted. But of course, Vanderwood has more tricks up his sleeves.

A long drive and a shower later, Vanderwood and MC change into more semi-formal attire as he drives them to one of the fancy restaurants in town. The restaurant is situated atop a building, with the entire floor encased in glass windows so guests can dine with a view overlooking South Korea. It's fine dining and Vanderwood has never been to a classy restaurant while off-duty; to be honest, something like this kinda suits Jumin Han more...but Vanderwood doesn't want to take MC to their regular dining spots. No, for this special day she deserves something special too.

As they're led to their seats by the hostess, Vanderwood once again intertwines his fingers with hers. "I heard this place has the best seoullangtang."

MC tugs at his hand, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Baby, this place is really expensive...you didn't have to."

Ha...oh no, doesn't she like it?

"It's our anniversary," he tells her, lifting their hands and then turning hers so he can kiss the back of it. "Don't even think about that, baby."

MC turns red at Vanderwood's blatant display of affection. Usually, he's more reserved and careful when they're in public; she assumed it's because of his past and she didn't mind. But today, he's been more touchy and showy...MC has to admit, it's giving her heart a pleasant workout. They're seated right by the window and Vanderwood is the perfect gentleman, pulling her chair out for her and helping her onto her seat. MC feels shy all of a sudden as Vanderwood slides into his seat across her. With the dim lighting from the restaurant, the candle in the middle of the table casts Vanderwood's face in a warm glow and MC unconsciously swallows, entranced by him.

Their previous dates were never this fancy and she's not complaining --she loves wherever they are, be it the beach or the supermarket, a fancy restaurant or McFonald's. As long as they're together, she's happy.

But seeing her boyfriend all dressed up in a crisp button-down shirt and a coat, hair tied into a half-ponytail, brown eyes staring at her --she can't help but feel the depth and seriousness of their relationship. Today is their anniversary, which means she's spent 365 days with this man...more than that, of course. Ever since they met, her days have been full of color and life. MC reaches across the table for his hand and holds it tightly in hers.

"I love you, Vanderwood."

Vanderwood's glad it's kinda dark because his heart does that weird little thing and he feels his cheeks burn as a smile spreads across his face. "I love you too, MC."

She mirrors his smile and it's strange but MC feels like she did the first time she met him in person, nervous and intimidated, but at the same comforted by his presence and intrigued. This once mysterious man is hers and though she knows she's barely scratched the surface of all that he is, she can't wait to learn more about him everyday, for the rest of their lives.

"Baby, order whatever you like, okay? Haha, don't be worrying about the prices." Vanderwood says as they open their menus. MC's eyes are skimming through the dishes (half of which she can't even pronounce because they're in different languages) when she hears the sound of a familiar voice.

"I didn't expect to see you both here this evening."

Vanderwood tenses. No freaking way...

But he's been hanging around that voice for months now and he'd recognize it anywhere --his boss, Jumin Han. Vanderwood reluctantly looks at the man standing beside their table, the leader of the RFA at his side. Jihyun at least looks apologetic for barging into their date.

"Jumin! Jihyun! What a coincidence!" MC exclaims happily, smiling at them. Truth be told, she was looking forward to spending more alone time with her boyfriend, but she also doesn't want to be rude to her friends. "Did you guys just arrive?"

"Yes. A business colleague recommended this place. I would have asked for a private room but Jihyun preferred to stay close to the windows."

Jihyun laughs good-naturedly at Jumin's words. "This place is popular for their stunning view of the city, after all. We should get going to our table, Jumin, let's not bother them..."

"Have a good time, boss, Jihyun." Vanderwood gives them a little wave. "Nonsense. We haven't seen MC in a while. Perhaps we should ask for a bigger table and dine together."

You've got to be kidding me.

"Jumin-" Jihyun tries to interrupt, but Jumin is already gesturing for the host. In mere minutes, Vanderwood and MC are seated with Jihyun and Jumin. Of course...it's not all that bad. He didn't have to be so formal with his boss since they're outside of work, and Jumin knew his way around the menu; the meal Jumin ordered for them was mouth-wateringly delicious. Vanderwood had no idea which ones were good, so he's grateful for that part, at least.

But seriously...this was starting to get annoying. Would the RFA be popping up at his planned dates with MC? Vanderwood represses a sigh though, and fights the itch for a cigarette.

They enjoy their meal and, realizing he has no choice but to endure it, Vanderwood relaxes and allows himself to enjoy the company.

All of a sudden, they're bathed in a hue of colors and MC's eyes turn to the windows, widening with surprise. The sky is lit up by fireworks --something Vanderwood had arranged for. Her eyes are bright and her smile is priceless. As the fireworks paint the night sky with streaks of brilliant color, MC feels a peace inside her, knowing that's exactly what she was thinking of moments before. Vanderwood is like the scene outside, illuminating her life with the most dazzling colors.

And while MC gazes at the beautiful display, Vanderwood stares, enchanted, at the woman who brought light to his life.

~

The last stop of the evening is the last showing of the latest romance movie, a movie MC has been waiting for. Vanderwood settles into their comfortable lazy boy couches, glad he paid for these seats.

"I'm so excited, I've heard a lot of good reviews already!" MC whispers to him, leaning close. Vanderwood chuckles.

"Baby, it's gonna be amazing." He leans closer to her, stealing a quick kiss in the dark theater. MC bites her lower lip as he pulls away, wanting to tell him how much she loves him. But the movie starts and MC has to stop herself from squealing in excitement. She keeps her hand locked with his, eyes focused on the screen.

Vanderwood feels relaxed now, knowing no one can interrupt them, knowing he can enjoy this moment with his girlfriend and sneak glances at her cute reactions.

But just thinking those thoughts has jinxed the situation. The doors to the cinema creak open and Vanderwood picks up the sound of popcorn bags and two hushed whispers. He glances at the empty seats beside him and sighs.

"Oh! If it isn't Mary and MC!"

Vanderwood curses inwardly and almost slaps his hand to his face. No. No freaking way. No damn way.

But after some shuffling sounds, Saeyoung plops down on the seat beside Vanderwood with Saeran occupying the other.

"Ohoho, I didn't know you were into romance movies, Vandy~" Saeyoung whispers before leaning forward in his seat and waving at MC. "Hi, MC! Thanks for restarting this guy's heart! If you ask me, you should have used a tase-"

"Ya! Shut up!" Vanderwood says, a little too loudly. The audience shushes him and Vanderwood slinks into his seat while Saeyoung covers his laughs with a hand.

For the duration of the movie, Vanderwood has to put up with Saeyoung's reactions and his hushed side comments. At some point, popcorn starts to fly towards the brown-haired man too, bouncing off his hair. Saeran shakes his head, heaving a sigh as Saeyoung takes another popcorn and throws it subtly to Vanderwood. The ex-agent was ready though; he catches the popcorn and throws it back to Saeyoung, who slides down his chair dramatically.

"I've been hit...Saeran ah, save yourself~~~"

Vanderwood glances at MC's face to watch her reaction and he's surprised to see her eyes fixed on him. She's biting her lower lip, trying to stop herself from laughing. Vanderwood smirks, reaching out and freeing her lower lip from her bite.

"You want a shot at the idiot?" Vanderwood murmurs near her ear. MC nods and takes a piece of popcorn then tosses it to Saeyoung, who's crawling up his chair as quiet as he can.

Saeyoung gasps and flops back down on the ground, holding his chest as though he's wounded.

"Sneak attack! Saeran, help m-"

"No."

"Okay no ;;;;"

~

Vanderwood stirs, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn.

Damn, what time is it?

Yesterday felt so long --with all that happened, Vanderwood feels exhausted and a little disappointed at himself for failing MC. Everything should have been perfect, but as luck would have it, the RFA just had to meddle in all his plans.

He lays in bed, blinking away his sleepiness, wondering if he can do anything today to salvage their anniversary. Absently, he reaches beside him, wanting to pull MC to his side and wake her up with kisses --but his hands come up blank.

"What the-?"

His head whips to the empty space beside him and Vanderwood sits up just as the door opens. MC comes in, balancing a small tray table filled with food.

"Baby, what are you doing?" Vanderwood asks, bewildered. He starts to move from the bed but MC makes a sound and continues moving towards him.

"No no, you stay right there," she says, eyes staring at the orange juice sloshing inside the glass. "Don't get off the bed, baby!"

Vanderwood freezes, unsure what's happening. Finally, MC lays the tray table on the bed and beams at Vanderwood. "Happy anniversary, baby!"

The brown-haired man blinks, surprised. Then a soft chuckle escapes his lips. "MC, baby...did you do all this for me?"

MC shrugs, her smile wide enough to light up the room. "Maybe~"

She carefully sits on the bed closest to Vanderwood, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Baby, yesterday was amazing! I wasn't expecting those surprises at all."

Vanderwood's brows furrow. "What do you mean..? MC...I...was gonna apologize-"

"What? For what?"

Vanderwood awkwardly scratches his cheek, not sure what to say. "Uh...ha, 'coz I didn't intend for the RFA to show up. And I mean, anniversaries aren't supposed to be celebrated like that...right? The movies we watched, the celebrations ain't like that."

Giggling, MC leans towards her boyfriend and kisses his cheek. "Oh Vanderwood, it was perfect. I had so much fun, even more so because our friends were with us celebrating our special day with us.

Without the RFA, you and I would have met in a different way. But I like our love story, because everything that has happened so far has led us to this moment, baby." She holds his hands, cheeks turning red. "I loved watching you play volleyball and grill our lunch, I loved listening to you talk with our friends, I loved catching my boyfriend all dressed up to take me on a fancy dinner, and I loved that you sat through another romance movie with me, all the while having a popcorn battle with Saeyoung."

MC squeezes his hands and all of Vanderwood's doubts vanish; his eyes fix on her, his heart beating loudly against his chest.

"Vanderwood...the girls in those movies we watch get one big gesture per movie but I got three amazing dates in one day. My friends were there to celebrate a special day with me: the anniversary of the day I promised forever to the love of my life. And I-"

Before MC could finish her speech, Vanderwood closes the gap between them and meets her lips for a kiss, pulling her close to him without toppling over the tray. MC's hands clutch the front of his shirt and her eyes close, her body tingling as he pours his emotions into their kiss.

"MC," Vanderwood says breathlessly, leaning his forehead against hers, "I love you. I'll keep takin' you out for dates, keep celebrating this day with you every year. 'Coz it's the day you and I got together, the day my life started to make more sense..." He gives her another peck and pulls her closer, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "But every day you remind me that there's more to life than fighting and running. Every day, I wanna see you smile and hear you tell me you love me."

MC giggles and wraps her arms around him. "I love you, Vanderwood." She lays her head on his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart, a heart that's tied to hers. "Yesterday was amazing but today I'm keeping you all to myself."

Vanderwood chuckles, reaching for a piece of bacon and holding it near her lips. MC takes a small bite from it and Vanderwood takes a larger chunk. "You and me all day, huh?"

MC nods, reaching for her phone. "You and me, all day, everyday." She holds the phone away from them, opening the camera app. "Happy anniversary, baby~"

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Thank you so much for the opportunity to participate, @mysme-rbb :) I had fun and kudos to the mods for an amazing project! 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Check out my other Mysme writings here!

Mango Shake/Ko-fi is always very much appreciated (ᵔᴥᵔ)

I’d be honored to write your story <3 (Commissions are full and closed atm ;A;)

[evienyx]

lmao seems like you're becoming an mcyt blogger too. anyway i was wondering what are your thoughts on wilbur??? like the character, i mean

I’m expanding my horizons. I’m an incredibly versatile person.

Anyway, you want my thoughts on Wilbur? Oh, I can give you my thoughts on Wilbur.

First off, I would say that, as a character, Wilbur is probably my second favorite, right behind Techno. My favorites tend to differ from the norm, largely because of the fact that I’m a writer, and I look at everything with a bit of a different lense. Even subconsciously, the first time I watch the streams, I’m analyzing the story and the characters, thinking of ways it could have been improved, and admiring what’s done well.

And, damn, Wilbur’s character is done so well.

His descent into madness was, obviously, terrifying to see, but what’s most interesting about it to me is the fact that he feels so justified throughout it. His character is consistent, and what he wants is also consistent. Wilbur stated in his conversation to Phil that he’s come back multiple times to the button, that he’s almost pressed it so many times. Just that statement, the realization of how many times he’s come close to it, despite everything he’s said to Tommy, despite the way he’s been seemingly all for the revolution now,is terrifying. It’s seemed to us for quite a while now that, through the madness, through the insanity, he does believe that L’Manburg can be taken back.

It’s at this moment, though, in the button room, that the truth slowly dawns. All this time, Wilbur did believe that they could take L’Manburg back.

And, all this time, that hasn’t mattered in the slightest to him.

Win or lose, live or die, Wilbur was going to press that button.

If we ignore the fact that the button was a Chekhov’s gun, if we fully analyze this in character, it’s absolutely groundbreaking.

Because here we see a man who once would have done anything to save L’Manburg, now doing anything to destroy it.

One of the ways Wilbur’s arc over the last few months of story (since the election) can be well-represented is, in my opinion, through observation of his relationship and interactions with Tommy.

More specifically, though, in the way that he uses his power over Tommy, what value he places on Tommy’s wellbeing, and how Tommy views him.

At the L’Manburg election, they’re thick as thieves. They’re brothers, at that point, because in this household we roll with SBI family dynamics. Tommy looks to Wilbur for guidance, and when they lose the election and Schlatt exiles them, they run together. Wilbur calls for Tommy to run, they make sure the other is safe (ignore Wilbur’s death, lmao). They leave L’Manburg together.

When they start Pogtopia, when they start thinking about how they’re going to get their country back, Wilbur tries to cheer Tommy up. He jokes with him, references Tubbox. They brainstorm together, they share ideas. They plan, and they work as equals. Wilbur has Tommy drop the ‘President.’ They’re in this together, and one of them is not above the other, anymore. Wilbur does his best to make sure that Tommy is safe, and that he is as happy as possible in the current situation, despite how dark and dreary their prospects appear to be.

Skip forward a bit, and we come to the announcement of the Manburg Festival. Now, up until this point, the dynamics have been rather consistent since the election. We’ve seen Wilbur rise up and take charge a bit more when necessary, like with Tubbo and the whole double-agent business, but ideas are shared and they treat each other with both respect and love.

When Schlatt is making the announcement, with Wilbur and Tommy looking on from above, Tommy draws back his bow to take the president out, and Wilbur stops him. Tommy listens. Had the roles been reversed, this would not have occurred, but mostly because Tommy wouldn’t have questioned Wilbur’s judgement in the first place. Tommy has complete and utter faith in Wilbur and his decisions at this point. That is the power that Wilbur holds over Tommy. Tommy trusts him. Wilbur uses this power over Tommy to ensure that the outcome of each and every decision they make is optimal, and to make sure that both of them stay safe and the rebellion stays strong. It’s a relationship of faith and trust.

Then, though, the announcement of the festival. And, mainly, the aftermath of the announcement. As they walk through the forest, for the first time, we see Wilbur question his motives. We’ve never seen this before, and neither has Tommy. Wilbur wonders if his morals are correct, or if he’s just been assuming he’s in the right. He decides to be the bad guy, and the relationship with Tommy shifts. The trust and faith that Tommy places in Wilbur is turned right back on him as Wilbur tells Tommy that he’ll never be president. Wilbur uses the relationship that he has with Tommy, uses the subconscious trust Tommy places in him, to manipulate him.

At this point, they are no longer equals. Wilbur no longer values Tommy’s input, as Tommy isn’t on his side on this issue, and Tommy doesn’t share with Wilbur anymore, as the faith is gone. Still, Tommy continues to trust Wilbur, he just doesn’t have faith in him or believe that he’s doing the right thing. Additionally, Wilbur’s care for Tommy’s wellbeing deteriorates a bit, but he still does care. Just... not as much.

The next big shift would be the day of the Manburg Festival.

What is interesting about this day is that it is the one time that Wilbur and Tommy agree on whether or not to blow up Manburg, because, as Tubbo is executed by their ally in a shower of colorful sparks, Tommy calls for Wilbur to blow the place to smithereens. Wilbur’s failure here is one of the best things for the story, but we can talk about that another time.

While the dynamics don’t shift in any notable way at the festival, what with Tommy and Wilbur showing up together, fighting and working together, they do change dramatically after the festival is over.

We can see this mainly with two events: The Pit, and Tommy, Tubbo, and Niki’s talk.

Wilbur is the one who coaxes Tommy into fighting Techno (a fight that, logically, Wilbur knew Tommy would lose). He pushed at Tommy’s emotions, manipulated him, into fighting a battle that he had no hope of winning. Any care he had for Tommy’s wellbeing is out the window at this point. He willingly sent him into the Pit to die.

Additionally, this is the first time that Tommy explains that he isn’t fighting for Wilbur anymore. He fights not for Wilbur, but for vengeance for Tubbo in the pit, and when he talks with Tubbo and Niki, it becomes clear that he no longer has faith in nor trusts Wilbur.

The next turning point comes very soon, when Wilbur is in the button room with Tommy and Quackity.

Tommy convinces Wilbur not to press the button, and Wilbur says that he’ll trust in Tommy for now, and breaks the button down as well.

The thing about this that is most important is that Wilbur is lying, and Tommy doesn’t realize that until it is far too late.

We don’t realize this until much later, but Wilbur didn’t care about what Tommy said. He explained to Phil that, despite his words to Tommy, despite what he claims about trusting Tommy’s plan, he’s still come close to pressing the button again, and again. He doesn’t trust in Tommy’s plan, and even if he does, it doesn’t matter, because Wilbur doesn’t care. He’s going to press that button regardless.

What does come from this, though, is that Tommy begins to trust Wilbur again. He feels like Wilbur cares, like Wilbur has his back. He places Wilbur back as leader, in his mind, and all of these things come to a climax on the day of the battle between Manburg and Pogtopia.

The War for L’Manburg shows the two of them relatively trusting of one another on the field, despite Wilbur’s constant jokes about being the traitor (which we later find out to be true, but that’s not what this is about). Tommy trusts Wilbur on the battlefield, and listens to what he says. They fight together.

Wilbur then places Schlatt’s life into Tommy’s hands. He gives him an incredibly difficult decision to make, plays with Schlatt’s life just to rise conflict within Tommy. It doesn’t matter in the end, but I thought it was interesting to see.

Anyway, Wilbur then places Tommy as president-elect, while Wilbur plans to go and detonate the bombs beneath the country while Tommy speaks of plans to rebuild. Then, though, Tommy calls Wilbur president again, and Wilbur renames the country before passing it off to Tubbo.

Wilbur had called Tommy up to the podium to speak, right where a large part of the bombs were placed. His intent was for Tommy to speak there while Wilbur pressed the button and blew the country sky-high, with Tommy at the center of it all.

Any care Wilbur once had for Tommy’s wellbeing is gone, and nothing makes that more apparent than his attempted appointment of Tommy to the presidency, where he would have been in the most danger as he gave a speech while standing on a minefield, facing a crowd containing a man who lived only for chaos and another who vowed to watch the country burn to the ground along with any government that may wish to form.

We can see, as well, the moment Tommy realizes what’s going to happen. We can see when he begins calling for people to find Wilbur, muttering “no” as he searches desperately, and then screaming as his worst fears are realized and his brother Wilbur blows everything that he’s ever worked for into nothing more than a crater.

Wilbur’s character development, his arc, his consistency, is incredible to watch. It’s one of the most impressive things of the entire Dream SMP story (which, honestly, isn’t much of a surprise, since Wilbur’s been directing it this whole time, anyway). There are so many more things that I could say about this, but this post is long enough, so I’m gonna end it here.

I’m always up to rambling about Dream SMP things, especially analyzing characters, plot, motivations, and the like.

I’m a nerd, sue me.

[sunflowerandco]

After the Fact: Act III

Rating: T just ‘cause it is.

Act I

Act II

-3 years after Act II-

          Courtney arose to the sound of her persistent alarm. The morning sun poured all of it's essence into the city that morning. She stretched her legs under the covers, her thighs still sore from the night before. The alarm sound gave Duncan enough consciousness to drape an arm around her followed by his groggy words, leaving her trapped.

          "Good morning, Princess." He pulled her in closer and she felt her heart jump out of it's own slumber, causing her to smile instinctively.

          "Duncan... I need to start getting ready for class." She pulled on his arm enough to wake him, freeing her from his hold.

          She slowly trudged into the bathroom to brush her teeth, and soon she heard his own alarm go off for work. He appeared in the bathroom mirror and plopped the toothpaste filled brush in his mouth.

          Their conversations, while mostly unintelligible, were an occurrence whenever Courtney stood over at this place instead of her dorm room. They spoke over the toothbrushes in their mouth.

          "Hungry?"

          "Mmhm"

          "Eggs?"

          "Sounds good to me."

          Their brushes were put back in the holders one after the other. Courtney made her way back into his bedroom, looking through his drawers, and Duncan sat on the foot of the bed.

          "Okay. Perfect. Now if I could just find a shirt so I don't have to walk around here naked."

          Duncan truly couldn't help what came out of his mouth after seeing his girlfriend in front of him in this state. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

          She turned back to see him gazing at her in amazement, and her cheeks began to glow in scarlet red. "It never turns off for you, does it?" She turned back before Duncan responded.

          "As long as you're around, no."

          Courtney scoffed at his comment. She found a shirt of his, and underneath it was a plain, black book with Duncan's name on it. She took it out along with the shirt and draped the shirt it over her body. She held it up when she questioned him. "What's this?" Duncan studied it before answering. "Oh... it's my sketchbook."

          "Your sketchbook? I haven't seen you draw in such a long time. Can I see?"

          "Yeah, go ahead. I, uh, just started seeing designs around town, on busses. I just got inspired to make some of my own."

          She flipped through a collection of completed sketches all equipped with detail and color. She had seen his notebook doodles, but they didn't compare to the amount of effort and skill these drawings took. She looked at him in awe for hiding such a gift. "Duncan, these are amazing. You have true talent."

          Duncan said nothing as Courtney flipped through each page.

          "Have you thought of becoming a tattoo artist? You love the shop right down the street, the artists even know you by name."

          "I always have, but I'm better off sticking to the repair shop." "Why not stick to something that I know can pay me?"

          She looked up at him, her hands firmly placed on her hips. "Duncan-"

          He took the book out of her hands and placed it on top of the drawer. "I'm gonna go start on breakfast."

          Courtney watched him walk out of the bedroom until one footstep grew fainter than the last. She couldn't help herself as she inched closer to the sketchbook. After eyeing her messenger bag at the foot of Duncan's bed, Courtney swiftly grabbed the sketchbook and wedged it in between her laptop and textbook before heading to the kitchen.

          "So, what are you in the mood for?" Duncan asked from the refrigerator door. "Omelet, scrambled?"

          "I think we can do omelets today. But, I have to go to the library as soon we're done. I barely had time to study last night thanks to you."

          Duncan closed the door and faced Courtney, ready to fire back. "Oh, I'm sorry. I could've sworn it was you begging for round two?"

          "Shut up!"

          "I will once you admit it!"

          Courtney grabbed the carton from him and started cracking eggs into a bowl. "No, you won't."

          "Very true." He smiled as he got started on greasing the pan. "What are you doing after class?"

          Courtney shuffled through a list of things she could tell him that were far from the truth. "I...have a...Debate Guild meeting after my classes."

          "Okay. As long as you come back here tonight."

          Courtney questioned Duncan as she got closer to him. "For what?"

          "I thought we could just have a night in?"

          "Just like last night?" Courtney asked, smirk on full display.

          "I've got a few ideas." He snaked an arm around her waist, and the gap between them diminished when he pulled her into a slow, drawn out kiss.

          Afterwards, she opened her eyes and Courtney swore she saw the sun shine brighter through the windows of his apartment.

                                                         ***

          Courtney took a deep breath and eyed the sketchbook in her bag. She took a minute to button up her blazer and before walking into the tattoo parlor.

          You've got three years of pre-law under your belt, Courtney.

          She opened the door to see this open space of creatives in a room adorned with huge windows. She was thrust into an array of stations dedicated to each artist, some were occupied by clients and some empty. Her heels stood out as each step made its rounds on the wooden floors.

          She walked up to the front desk and approached a rather young guy. He didn't look old enough to work at the shop.

          "Good Afternoon. My name is Courtney Álvarez, and I'd like to speak with the owner of this establishment."

          Without saying a word, he got up and entered a room behind him. She turned away from the desk to take in the view from the outside, before hearing a voice from behind the desk.

          "Hey? We in trouble or something?" Courtney's attention diverted when her eyes met a petite woman covered in tattoos.

          "No, nothing like that." Courtney handed her a business card with her name and number on it. "I assume you're Anya Tremblay."

          "I've heard this name somewhere..." She looked up from the card and at Courtney. "Oh, you're Duncan's girl. He talks about you a lot. You are exactly like he described."

          Courtney decided to take that as a compliment before continuing her introduction.

          "Right now I'm not his girlfriend. I'm his... advocate." Courtney smiled before reaching a hand out to shake Anya's.

          Anya shook her hand with skepticism. "Advocate?"

          "Yes. I'm very passionate about cultivating his interests to render them beneficial to his life." She reached for the sketchbook in her bag with a few color coded sticky notes attached to certain pages.

          "Now, you may know Duncan as a regular to your shop. However, he's also your potential new artist." She held the book out on her arms facing Anya, opening to the first page she highlighted.

          "See here.” There pictured was a fully rendered sketch of a compass drawn in the usual Traditional fashion. “Duncan’s well versed in Traditional. I've witnessed him drawing in class since we were in junior high.”

          Anya looked pleasantly surprised as Courtney flipped through various pages. Some of the same style Courtney highlighted at the beginning of her presentation of Duncan’s work. Other drawings included skulls drawn in the style of realism. Courtney closed the book to begin her closing arguments.

          “To conclude, Duncan has immense potential. He’s passionate, young, and strong-willed. You’d be missing out on this city’s next best artist if you turn him away.” Courtney hoped Anya had questions, which was always a good sign.

          Anya’s stoic stance remained, but her voice seemed communicative. “Has he worked on skin before?”

          “No. That’s actually where you come in. Duncan’s a pretty fast learner. And, with your extensive knowledge and history in American Traditional he’ll do just fine.” Anya looked inquisitive after hearing Courtney's counterargument.

          “How do you know I do Traditional?”

          “Your Instagram profile is public, you’ve done some of Duncan’s sleeve, and I’m pre-law." She placed a hand on her chest, gesturing to herself proudly. "I do my research.”

          Anya's voice returned to a tone with incredulity. “How did you guys even manage to find each other?”

          “We’re more than just what’s on the surface. Any more questions?”

          "One more," Anya answered. "Why didn't Duncan apply for the apprenticeship himself‽"

          "Duncan's apprehensive at the thought of taking a chance on his dream job, but that doesn't mean he isn't capable-"

          “Alright, alright. Tell him to give us a call. Tomorrow. 10AM.” Anya made her way back into her office.

          Courtney triumphantly strutted her way out of the shop when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Duncan's name flashed on the screen. She answered, sounding more enthusiastic than she meant to. "Duncan! Hey!"

         Duncan caught on to her tone. "Hey, babe. You sound like you had a pretty good meeting."

         She quickly remembered what she told him that morning, and followed along. "Oh, yeah! I... won the practice rounds! So, anyway, what's up?" 

         "Think you could pick up the takeout I ordered from around the corner on your way back?"

         She looked to her right to see the restaurant right down the street. "I can do that. See you soon."

         His tone indicated he was smiling. "Okay. I love you."

         "I love you, too."

                                                            ***

         Courtney called for her boyfriend as she closed the apartment door behind her. She was still undoubtedly giddy, and she couldn't wait to deliver the news about his interview. "I'm heeeere! They gave us an extra egg roll because-" She stopped in her tracks to see Duncan quietly standing in front of what used to be an empty corner of his apartment; now adorned with an ambient glow of warm fairy lights. She slowly placed the takeout on the table, gradually making her way toward him. "What is all this?"

         "This is for you." Duncan stepped out of the way and Courtney noticed a white desk decked with two bookshelves of the same height. Some of the books she'd leave at his place were on the shelves. Her voice grew soft as she struggled to find words. "Duncan..."

         "I thought you'd want a good place to study here for when... you move in with me?"

         She pulled him into a hug, burying her face in his chest with Duncan placing a hand through her hair. 

         "Duncan, I'd love to live with you, but I don't have job, I can't pay rent-"

         "It's not about rent, Princess. I can afford this place on my own. All you need to do is study your ass off." He lifted her head up by holding her face, possibly in the gentlest way he'd ever done. His fingers ran through her hair once more. "Move in with me?"

         Courtney took Duncan's arms to interlock her fingers with his, their hands turned down to the floor. She tilted her head up toward him and leaned in, their eyes closing slowly before Courtney lightly pressed her lips onto his, and slowly elongating with every draw of her lips. Duncan returned with warm and vehement intent while his hands broke free of their joining. His arms instinctively pulled her in by her waist; close enough to have their bodies one against the other. Courtney lost her breath at the pull, and her hands found their way around his neck. She felt a warm aura gleam to her core before slowing the pace enough to stop. She repeated herself one more, but with assurance in her words.

         "I'd love to with you, Duncan."

         Duncan felt lighter at her change of heart given his reassurance. He couldn't wait for days with her to be his new normal. He reveled in the idea of coming home to her sitting at this very desk, buried in her work. Or welcoming him into open arms on the couch. And dinners with her after such a long day. He quickly remembered the takeout on the table. He figured now's the time to start these memories. "Wanna eat some takeout?" Courtney nodded, just realizing how hungry she was. His hands dropped from her waist and she made her way back to their little round dining table just for the two of them, and he realized how formal she was dressed.

         "Do you always dress this fancy for meetings?" Courtney froze before she remembered how excited she was to tell him about his chance at his dream job. "Actually, no. I wasn't at a Debate Guild meeting today." Duncan walked closer to the table, still confused. She retrieved her bag to show him she had his sketchbook. She couldn't hide the elation in her voice even if she tried. "I went to Anya's shop, showed her your work, and she wants you to be her apprentice."

         Duncan truly couldn't believe her words. "What?"

         Courtney began to repeat. "I went to-"

         "No, no I heard you. I just- How?" When realization hit him, it grew harder to hide his grin.

         "I didn't do anything! It was your work that got you in. It wasn't hard to make a great case with strong evidence."

         "Courtney, you didn't have to do all that for me-"

         "Well, too bad you feel that way," Courtney countered as she wrapped her arms around his torso. "Because you have a girlfriend who loves and sees the best in you, and a phone call scheduled for 10AM tomorrow."

         Duncan looked down into her eyes with incredulity, and his arms made their way to her waist as well. He couldn't take moments like these and his girlfriend for granted. "You're unbelievable." 

         She smiled, still proud of the both of them. "I like to keep you surprised in more ways than one."

         "How can I ever repay you, Princess?"

         She teased him, recalling his words this morning. "I've got a few ideas." She giggled lightly.

         They parted, sitting in their respective seats at their table, in their commitment to making more memories together.

A/N: HI!!!! I hope you liked it if you made it this far! Let me know what you think. See you in act iv!

[ukiyo-jaem]

my timer didn't go off to post this at 0:00 i am so sorry~~

warnings: smut (it's tasteful), mean parents (??) that's about it. it's got fluff in here. NOT PROOFREAD

words: 4.1k (there's a plot, trust me)

domestic!mark lee ugh a fan favorite~

I listened to Fool for You by Zayn while writing so...yeah. alrighty, let's go~~

---------------

Fool For You

summer breezes and fresh flowers. the first big stretch when you first wake up that has you reeling back into the euphoric feeling of your warm sheets. taking a bite of your favorite dessert that reminds you of home. that scent that carries you away to your childhood of good memories and make-believe scenarios; where the worst disaster was your parents calling you in for dinner.

that's what it felt like to be in his presence.

the late night summer dates with Mark were what felt like true heaven. the nights where both of you would stay up till the early dawn holding each other so closely. the stickiness of one's skin from the morning humidity was beauty in his eyes. your natural form where no one could take you away from him.

"no matter how much i say that i love you, i will always love you more than that."

his words held so much depth when he spoke to you. he treated you like his queen and he truly was your king. he was the love of your wildest dreams. but he was way better...because he was real.

both of your families condemned this love and thought of it as useless and a waste of time. yet, it was all the time for both of you. you didn't need anyone else except mark and mark alone.

but every knife has it's point...and you've both been reaching it slowly but surely. the calls to one's family becoming longer and less loud.

"i don't want to go to dinner with your family though." your words were heartbreaking to his ears but he had made his decision. "i know. please. i know you hate them-" "i could never hate anyone, mark. it pains me but i'd never let it turn into hate" you said and his shoulders dropped. "you're so strong. just one night and i will never ask you to go near them." his eyes pleaded from where he was laying on the bed. your body positioned at the end of the comfy and warm bed.

your mind was lost in thought until you felt his hand grab yours. "pretty please?" he pouted and you groaned laying down. "that's so not cool to pout." you said turning towards him. "but i know it works." he comes closer to lay soft kisses all over your face, ending with a meaningful kiss on your lips.

"fine." you breathed after he finished his moment of passion. "and that is why you're the best." he grabbed your body and pulled you on top of him.

"we have to leave soon." you complained and he groaned. "you wanted me to go so bad and now you're gonna make us late." you said straddling his waist. "yeah yeah yeah." he held your waist and sat up.

you rolled off as he puckered his lips, leaving your boyfriend waiting. "what are you gonna wear, handsome?" you opened the closet. "nice shirt. blazer. pants." he listed off the most vaguest items. "well duh but what color?" you looked at your dresses. "black." he said and you wanted to bang your head on the closet door.

"okay tomorrow we're going shopping and i'm making you add some more color into your wardrobe." you said taking his blazer and dress shirt down. "yes dear." he dragged out.

"i'm going to go get dressed and do makeup." you waved him off and disappeared into the bathroom.

makeup was simple as you were left alone. yet, once you were starting your hair, mark thought it was an amazing idea to come in and try to dance the time away.

music had been playing for the past 20 minutes through the household speakers. it was a usual occurrence and a well loved routine. say you won't let go by james arthur had been sweeping through the house for the past couple of minutes.

his arms wrapped around your waist and his cheek rested against your shoulder.

"you look as beautiful as ever, and i swear that everyday you get better. you make me feel this way some how-" his soft voice carrying you away from the daily task.

"im gonna love you till my lungs run out, i promise till death to us part like in our vows-" his hands gripped yours, twirling you around in the small bathroom, ending up with you both pressed up chest to chest, slow dancing on the tiled floor.

"dont cry." he pouted as he saw your eyes fill with tears. He gently wiped them before they could fall. "then don't be so freaking cute." you pouted and his smile stretched across his face. "ugh you're so cute." he kissed your cheek ever so gently as to not mess up your makeup.

"and you're looking as dashing as ever." you brushed your hands over his dress shirt, the first few buttons still unbuttoned, his silver chain still laying on his exposed collar bones.

"want me to do your hair?" you asked and he didn't hesitate to sit on the toilet lid and wait patiently.

he always seemed so relaxed with your fingers running through his hair; the requests at 3 am after he awakes from an unpleasant dream never making you angry.

his hair was so soft and fun to play with. but with a little touch of magic and hair product, he would transform into his model-like man.

you finished up and let him go relax in the bedroom.

your dress hugged your body so nicely and flattered every curve you thought you never possessed. when paired with the jewelery mark had gotten you for your guys' anniversary, a goddess was being put together in human form.

"ready?" you asked walking back to the room to get your shoes. a whistle made you scoff lightly at the behavior. "ready to come home already and have you all to myself." mark sighed but you walked over to put your phone in your hand-purse along with extra lipstick and perfume.

he started to look nervous about the whole situation. "relax. i'm here for you and you alone. if you want to leave as soon as we get there? we'll just go to a different restaurant." you put a hand on his chest comfortably. "you got this." he smiled as you knew all his emotions at once.

"now let's go. i'm hungry." you kissed his cheek quickly and wiped away the mark of your lip color.

both of you walked hand in hand out of the house and to his car where he nervously drived you both to the restaurant.

"here we are." was all he said as he parked facing the restaurant. inside the window sat his parents and brother. his brother was with his own partner as they all laughed. mark knew he didn't have to worry about his brother not accepting his love. it was all his parents.

"let's go. try to look happy. they're your parents." you defended them. something he never understood about you. when facing backlash from his parents, you just let it go and never returned the hate. you were so loving while they did nothing but try to bring you down.

"but they're raging assholes to you." he turned towards you and you shrugged, wiping something on his cheek away and keeping your hand on the side of his face.

"and that's fine. but you're their baby. they just want the best for you. they'll never be happy with anyone." you tried to put it into perspective but it never helped.

he took your hand off his face and held it tightly. "tell me you want to leave. and we're gone." he said and you laughed lightly. "fine." you agreed and his smile made everything feel better.

"let's get this over with." he exited and ran to get your door like the gentleman he was.

he hooked your arm in his and lead you both towards the entrance.

"try to make memories. they're your parents. they love you." you reminded and he rolled his eyes. "yes, dear." he opened the door for you and didn't let you enter without a quick and cheeky smack to your ass. he acted innocent as he lead you to the round table.

"Oh, Markie!" his mom called drawing all attention to both of your presences. his parents hugged and pinched his cheeks as you greeted his brother and his brother's partner. "you look amazing tonight, y/n." his brother's partner smiled. "oh thank you so much. you look even better though! are those Cartier earrings?!" you rejoiced at their exquisite tastes.

"Only the best for them." Mark's brother smiled and you coo'd at the pure love.

"Here sit next to me." The 2 seats were next to Mark's father and Mark's brother's partner.

You gladly accepted the seat and Mark sat down not long after you. "We already ordered for you guys not knowing when you would show up, I apologize." Mr. Lee smiled at Mark. "Oh that's alright. What's on the menu tonight?" Mark asked, his hand finding yours underneath the white dining cloth. "Well I thought with all your work that we'd treat us all to steak." His mother smiled and you could hear a sigh come from the girl next to you.

"But I haven't seen y/n's figure in a while so I made the exception for a plain salad for you." Mrs. Lee forcibly smiled at you. Mark's hand squeezed a little harder than normal. "Oh thank you for the consideration and accomodations, Mrs. Lee," Her eyes squinted as what seemed like spite. "and might i add that you look amazing tonight." your genuine sincerity broke almost everyone's hearts at the table. "oh why thank you but i'm not one for meaningless small talk." she took a sip from her dark red wine.

"it's alright. i completely understand." you smiled and and she rolled her eyes. "of course you do." she muttered and turned towards her youngest son. "so, mark, what is new at the company?" her eyes held eagerness for conversation, something you'd wish to see atleast once.

"don't listen to the old bat." the beautiful woman said that sat next to you. "it's her baby. nothing is ever good enough for him." she rolled her eyes. "i know. i understand where her heart is." your fingers toying with the dainty necklace resting on your collarbones.

"you can have some of my meal when it comes. i didn't know what they were going to pull so i made sure to eat a burger before i came." you both giggled at the matter as someone cleared their throat. you both looked up to see Mr. Lee sending daggers towards your direction.

"i apologize." you said straightening yourself up in your seat. "what was so funny?" he asked sternly. "we were actually talking about her new line coming out in a couple weeks. something with one of the models. you know how that is." she swooped to your defense. "by the way, how is it coming?" she asked, takin a sip of the ice water infront of her.

"it's..uh..going very well actually. i have some investors coming to my fashion show to see if they'd be interested in investing. if they invest then i would be able to organize shows in other parts of the world. milan, london, paris, beijing, new york, tokyo-" "but are you going to go back to school for business or just dilly-dally until something goes wrong?" Mrs. Lee asked quickly.

"well my father and mother are both ceo's of their company so they help guide me in what i have trouble with." you smiled. mark's hand has become steel as he hasn't let go yet. the waiters brought out the food one by one with a small and plain side salad being placed infront of your body.

mark stared at the bare plate in front of you and wanted to hurl at that being the only food you were going to eat tonight.

"i'm fine." you leaned over to whisper in his ear. "eat so they don't ask you questions." you nudged his elbow.

"sharing food is prohibited." Mr. Lee cut everyone off. "we're not." mark muttered defeated. you swallowed your pride and ate a leaf at a time to try and curb your actual hunger.

mark ate a couple bites but you could tell he was taking his anger out with chewing; jaw clenching was one of his tell-tale signs of anger...and this steak didn't look like tough meat.

"markie. we went to church this past week and there is this lovely graduate student new in the congregation." his mother called as she ate her own food. you could see most of the people almost choke on their food but you remained steady in eating.

inside though, your tears were building up behind a wall that you would try to make stand till tonight when you were truly alone.

"yeah?" he asked, not knowing what else to say.

"yes. and she's not seeing anyone right now. her parents agreed to an arranged marriage if you weren't opposing." the killer was that mark didn't say anything. yet, you could hear his knuckles pop as he gripped his steak knife.

the wall was slowly crumbling as you suddenly felt full of the plain watery vegetable. you put your fork down and could only stare at your lap where a napkin laid.

"say something, dude." his brother coughed weakly.

"hell no." mark bursted and everyone could see him try to reel in his words again.

"excuse me?!" Mr. Lee bellowed, causing other dining patrons to look over.

"I'm not going to marry anyone except the love of my life." mark steamed, dropping his utensils.

"you don't know who that is yet, mark. you can't screw around with marriage and get it wrong. especially waste it on a-" mark interrupted his mother, "a what, mom?" he asked and she suddenly lost her words.

silence fell over the table as your napkin had a single ring of wetness appear suddenly. "oh no, not here. not here, sweetie," the gracious lady beside you got up "come on, we're leaving." she said to her husband and lead you out of the restaurant quickly.

as soon as you were out of eye sight, you immediately broke down in ugly tears. "don't listen to them. you are absolutely gorgeous and are a match-made-in-heaven for mark." she rubbed your back sweetly.

"you are so nice to them for no reason. you will be more of a better person than they will ever be-" "we should go. it's gonna get ugly really quickly." Mark's brother nudged you both.

you looked in to see mark and his father standing neck to neck. then as quickly as it started, it ended with mark being the bigger man and leaving. yet, a tearful mr. and mrs. lee following him at a distance.

he wasted no time in taking you in his arms and holding you as you tried your best to cover your cries. "we're going to go before dad follows. i'll stop by tomorrow and check in on you guys. get out of here before dad goes crazy." Mark's brother shouted from his car window.

mark took your hand and dragged you to the car. he put you in and got out of there as quickly as he could.

he was as angry as you had ever seen him. you didn't try to touch him or do anything on the silent ride home. yet, his hand quickly grabbed yours.

"i should have never brought you to them. im so stupid." he groaned as he hit his wheel. "no you're not." you fought with him and he didn't have the heart to go against you.

"you are the best thing that's ever happened to me." he said, a glaze setting into his eyes that you had never seen before.

"and i could never imagine life without you." he swallowed hard and you stayed there in shocked silence.

"you make me better." tears started to roll down his cheeks as he pulled into the driveway.

"please don't cry." yet your empathetic heart made your eyes spill. you both looked at eachother and laughed at the messed up states.

"then you stop crying." he defended and you looked to you lap again. he got out of his side and trailed to yours quickly.

"im gonna show you how much i love you." he said and this sparkle in his eye gleamed so brightly, everyone would've thought he was crazy.

"okay." was all you could respond with, a small smile gracing your perfect face.

he grabbed your legs and carried you all the way to the door. he crossed the doorway and it felt different. it felt more hot and flustered and more passionate.

he closed the door and immediately had you against it. the kisses were hot and filled with lust. yet, you could tell he was getting flustered and trying to rush things. the feeling of two hands on his face made him take a breath of fresh air. "let's just take it slower tonight." you whispered but he heard you loud and clear.

he picked your legs up and put them around his waist, taking his blazer off and throwing it somewhere in the living room. you dress hugged you so perfectly but you wouldn't be needing it anymore tonight.

he navigated the house as if it were you; the back of his hand. your back was now pressed to a cool matress. his hands were rough yet slow as he pulled the black fabric off of your body. his shirt was eventually off and nothing was left between your torsos besides skin.

the moonlight cascading through the window reflected off his chain and it was no longer the soft and loving without a care mark you were used to.

he was going to make you feel his love for you. from the way his fingers played with your clothed core slowly to the heavy breathing between kisses made the night air intoxicating.

his lips were against your neck making imprints of red and purple that were sure to last for a week. both of you rocked against each other in such a rhythm that would have the ocean asking for lessons on harmony.

he picked you up and situated your body at the top of the bed where he wasted no time in shimmying the dress off of your hips so he was met with nothing but you in your panties.

those were long gone as he grabbed and ripped.

"spit." he held his hand out. you obeyed and he wasted no time in running his hand up and down your already wet core.

the kisses were rushed and heated yet you both remembered to slow down as he trailed slowly down your body, kissing every part he could see and praise.

"so beautiful." he whispered, licking a bold stripe up your pussy. you gasped and tried to readjust yourself yet his strong grip on your thighs kept you ground. his arms were hooked around you upper thighs as his hands held your hips and waist down to the bed.

his dark eyes still held that shimmer in them that made you even weaker in the knees.

he wasted none of his time with teasing and gave you exactly what you wanted. "please don't stop." your hands getting lost in his hair.

his hips grinded into the mattress steadily. "im so close already." you whined as he continued his relentless pleasure. "let go for me, baby." he pleaded and if drove you so close to the edge. it made him even more excited as you were blissed out.

it was the perfect time to take advantage of your love, yet, he was going to take care and love you till both of you couldn't.

he took off the confines of his pants and met you at the top of the bed, where you were still completely gone in the euphoric wonderland he pleasured himself to sending you into.

he was slow at first but quickly got lost in this intimate feeling of being so close to you and feeling you in a way no one could relate to.

"faster." you whined but he slowed down. "no, babygirl. we're going to do this right." he cleared the hair from your face and quickly pressed your lips together in a heated kiss.

your leg now over his shoulder as he slowly pounded into you. the knot in his and your stomach felt so much more different and pleasure filled.

your fucked out moans were like angels singing in his ears as your jewelery shined in the moonlight. both of you got sloppier as you were so close to climaxing.

"please cum in me." you begged, grabbing his hand and interlacing your fingers.

he dropped your leg and got closer, sharing a kiss that left both of you breathless. then the explosion. it was as if a bomb of stars had gone off behind your eyelids as you could only feel your back arch with the unexplained feeling of being... full.

both of you laid breathless and sweaty as you tried to regain your composure and drift down to reality.

mark laid on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as he could feel his own match yours.

once he felt your fingers start to dance through his hair, he knew that he needed to be like this forever. he needed you and only you. he couldn't miss this opportunity on his soul mate coming to him from the beginning.

his arms hooked around your body as reality was hitting.

"i love you, y/n." he said and he could hear your heart begin to beat faster.

"not as much as i could ever love you." you pinky traced up his nose bridge as he slowly drifted into sleep holding the one he cares about most...so close.

~~~~~~

"mmmmm steak." he watched as your eyes lit up at the treat in front of you. "it wasn't even enjoyable yesterday. it's amazing today though." mark's brother admitted from right next to him.

his brother and his partner came over to check up and brought take-out steaks to treat everyone with. just a relaxing night at home with everyone he truly loves and can feel the love from.

he watched your happiness and was automatically taken away~

"she's nothing to you!" his mom yelled as you were lead away from the scene.

"she's everything FOR me." mark retaliated. "but we just want what's best for you." his dad pleaded. "but happiness is all I need. why can't you see that and how she makes me the most happy." mark was at his wits ends.

he needed you and was going to have you as long as you both were breathing.

"it's only going to be a problem in the end that we have to clean up." Mrs. Lee had tears coming down her face.

a brief silence plagued the table. "so are you going to show up to the wedding or no?" he asked and if pure shock could kill someone, his parents would have been 6 feet under.

"no." spoken of disbelief.

"i will not bless the marriage!" his father screamed and stood up, causing mark to chest up to his own father. "you don't need to. I am going to marry that girl out there whether it kills me or not." mark pointed to your crying being not even 100 feet away.

"you're a fool if you believe you actually love her. you're young. you don't know what love is!" Mr. Lee had Mark's collar in his hands.

yet mark broke his grip and straightened his collar.

"then I guess I'm a fool for her and her love." and with that he left to comfort you and try to rebuild you diminished character.

~~~

"earth to Handsome." he was shocked back to reality by your smile and everyone's concerned faces. "i thought you stopped breathing or something." his brother laughed as he saw you clutch your chest and laugh lightly.

"scared us there for a minute." his brother's partner laughed along with you.

"so what was so nice going on in la-la land?" you asked taking a bit from your steak. mark shrugged, taking a sip from his wine glass.

"just...thinking." he smiled.

"well don't do that again. you scared me, you fool." you laughed.

he didn't want to admit that he had been daydreaming of you walking down the aisle in the most beautiful of dresses; something that still could never compare to your beauty. but that will be for a later confession at a later date. one where you'd know his secret: there's an engagement ring with your name on it hiding in his dress shoes in his closet. waiting for the right time in the near future.

he could only smile at your cute expression in the moment.

"then i guess i'm a fool for you."

-fin-

**these are all my opinions on how i read the boys and how i watch them interact with others. this is my own personal opinions and are in no way facts unless cited to proof. thank you®