#it feels rushed even though it has taken me literal weeks to write it lol

[teddybeartoji]

˗ˏˋ AUTUMN - THE SMILE

a reuniun between a prince and a knight, filled with laughter, giggles and tears. you should've seen it coming.

☆. contains: prince!satoru gojo x gn!knight!reader; fluff, angst, just a tad bit of violence toward the reader but they can take it (right?), knight!suguru makes an appearance as always, talk of shoko and her childhood

☆. word count: 6k

☆. note: got very real in the end. it'll pass, though. surely. tagging my beloveds too bc i want to. @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat & @elusivemoon & @staryukis

+ here are the masterlist, the previous part & the soundtrack

it's autumn.

the yellow and red leaves paint the town in their warm colors. the people are wearing matching scarves, some already mittens too. the wind can be unforgiving during this time of year - it hides itself behind the last few drops of sunlight and reemerges the second a cloud appears.

it is sunny today, though. a few clouds here and there but not doesn't scare anybody. the town is as bustling as ever. and the prince is out on his daily walk again. he loves being outside, the castle makes him feel so restricted, so caged in. outside - whether it's the shadowy woods or the lively town, he feels free, even if it's a mere moment. he loves taking in the sun - he isn't wearing his blindfold again, aware of the hard fact that he'll get a sickening headache after, but he just can't help it. he wants to see the world around him without the silly restriction his eyes beg for him to wear. he wants to see the leaves, the vines growing on the houses, the river flowing along with the fish in it, the townsfolk. he knows the people, he loves the people; the old lady selling flowers on the corner, the blacksmith with one eye, the doctor, who taught shoko everything she knows, the kids playing ball, the cats nudging themselves against his calves. he loves it. and the people love him, too.

sure, there are many, who'd like to see him dead but those are just power-hungry dogs and the prince knows that. he loves his people and they love him. whenever he comes out, he always plays with the kids. always. he plays ball with them, he plays house with them, he even planned a tea party for them once. he always visits the flower shop lady to look and smells the flowers, even when they're the exact same ones from the day before. he always buys some, insisting that he pays when the lady says otherwise. he buys loads and loads – some for his own room, some for his mom, some for the dining room and some for suguru and shoko. they always roll their eyes at that but the prince knows they appreciate the gesture; he's seen shoko admire them on the balcony of her room, observing every single petal in detail and he has seen suguru smelling them, when he thinks the prince isn't looking. suguru's nose is sensitive, so the prince takes his time picking out the ones with a smell that won't make his nose scrunch up.

suguru walks with him often, but not today. his knight duties called – the king's guard specifically requested him. 'how fancy' the prince said with a grin, earning a punch to his shoulder. he's proud of his friend, though, always. suguru makes an excellent knight and he couldn't be happier to have his best friend with him at all times (at most times).

he likes to visit the blacksmith, too. and every single time he begs, begs, to try out the job. he wants to get his hands dirty, he wants to try new things. he gets excited; it's freeing. a few times, when the prince is alone, the blacksmith allows the boy to help him.

the doctor is someone he also visits regularly. just to check up on her and to talk about shoko – he is insistent on knowing everything about her childhood but she herself won't tell him all that much. he always brings the doctor freshly brewed coffee from the tavern across the street. from her, he has learned that shoko had a rather tough childhood. well, he did know that much. he did learn that the doctor took in shoko when she was just eight; gave her a warm house and a bed and made her into an apprentice. shoko never budged an eye at the blood and the screams, which threw the doctor off a bit but she supposed it's from the life on the streets.

he has also learned that shoko had a friend, who was ready to do anything for her and for others for that's sake. with a deep sigh, she confessed that she regretted not taking in the other kid. shoko was more quiet, more well-behaved in a sense but the other kid – they kept getting into fights with the knights of the castle. "i kept scolding them over it. but no, they just kept going. later i learned that all of those beatings and slashings were for other kids." her head hanged low as she spoke. "they kept taking the blame for the younger kids, so that they wouldn't get hurt. stole food, so that they wouldn't starve. i didn't know that."

the prince nodded along, surprised to hear about this noble kid. his age, too. "where are they now?" he asked in a whisper, a little scared of the answer.

"they left. around the time they were twelve, i think. shoko was miserable. brought me and her flowers and bread; the most polite troubled kid i ever saw." she sighed."i was stupid."

the prince never mentions all that he knows to shoko; of course, he wants to know more but if she needs time to tell it to him herself – so be it. he offered her a room at the castle after he and suguru made her patch him up after a little accident. it's funny really, one of the prince's fondest memories.

though, the prince can't lie about being very fascinated the mysterious kid, who left town. why did they leave in the first place? why take the blame? who is this person? where are they now?

it's an old conversation that popped into his head as he's making his way to see the very same doctor today. why today? a cold breeze makes a shiver run down his spine and he looks up at the sun. it's so bright. fuck, he's definitely gonna get that headache. a group of kids run by him, laughter filling the street. he thinks about how there are no street kids now – he made sure of that. his father wasn't a fan of his idea of lowering the taxes and building a house for the alleged troubled kids. he hired some people that take care of them and that's another place he'll visit later today. he loves the kids so much and he just wants them to have a good life in his town. he won't be like his father — he will be better.

a warm smell of pastries suddenly floods his nose and he hums – it's thursday today. it's when they bake the biggest batch of goodies. his mouth is already salivating just thinking about it. he'll have to bring some to his friends too. as he's reaching his destination, a familiar glint of armor catches his eye. it's you. standing before the doctor's house, looking up at her with what can only be described as hope, as she's pointing toward the castle with a small smile. you give her a small nod and go for a hand shake for good measure but the doctor grabs your hand with both of hers and holds it to her heart. she tells you something that makes your lip quiver just a bit, just a litte. nodding again, you bow your head and bid your goodbye. the doctor is left standing at her door, watching you walk toward the flower shop.

the prince is stopped in his tracks, only managing to stare at you from a distance. he hasn't seen you since your little meet-cute. not for his lack of trying, though. oh no, he's been all over town, trying to find his little knight but to no avail — gone like the summery wind.

but now. here you are.

you make your way to the flower lady, greeting her with another bow of your head. so polite. the woman just beams at you and the prince feels his own lips twitch into a smile. you two engage in conversation that he cannot hear but once in his life, he doesn't want to interrupt. the flower lady says something that makes your head fall before she bursts into loud laughter, something teasing he thinks. it's like she knows you, why else would she be so comfortable with a new knight in town? he catches a faint, the faintest, little smirk playing on your lips and his knees are ready to give out.

after the short conversation with the woman, you make your way through the town with the prince tailing you. he watches you take in the people, the kids, the houses. the familiarity of it all. many of the older people seem to recognize you, bowing their heads as you pass by them.

reaching the stream that runs through the town, you lean against railing and tilt your head toward the sun. you bask in it. the light warms your skin, accentuating the scar across your eye. it looks cool. you have the same cuirass on from the months before, the little specks of rust still there. he looks at your hands, the bandages covering your fingers and the back of your hand. he's so curious about them. how'd you fight? how'd you protect? who'd you save? where have you been? it's eating him alive, he just wants to fucking ask you about the—

"you do that often, your highness?"

hm?

you address him without turning your head and it makes the prince jump a little. you knew he was here? he looks behind him just make sure you are, in fact, talking to h—

"yes, i'm talking to you."

"wha— how'd you know i was here?" his voice is a pitch higher than usual, genuinely surprised by having your attention on him.

"well, you're bound to spot the royal idiot standing with his mouth wide open in the middle of the street, your highness." you tease.

"i was not standing in the middle of the street! i am perfectly on the side, i don't know what you're talking about." he takes a step toward you, so– so eager to finally have you here with him.

"that's what you took from that sentence?" your fist raised in front of your lips, surpressing a grin.

the prince is more observant than you'd think. his fingers twitch by his side, eager to remove your hand and let your smile shine.

"i haven't seen you around."

"oh, were you looking for me, your highness?" it's supposed to be another tease but it doesn't fall through becaus—

"yes." the prince deadpans. humming, you try to brush off his straigh-forwardness.

"missed me, your highness?" you decide to give it another go.

"yes." and it doesn't work. you feel heat crawling up your neck, so you raise a hand to massage it. to hide it from the prince's keen eyes.

...

"you're ridiculous. don't you have other people to play around with?"

"oh, tons and tons. but they're not you." he leans toward you, tilting his head, boring his pretty blue eyes into yours – he really does look like a puppy like this. you've never seen one, you've only met teeth-baring wolves in the woods. you don't know what to do with him.

"has anyone mentioned, you have a terrible staring problem, your highness?" you retort.

"i just can't help it. and, anyway, i'm trying to figure out whether this is a dream or not."

"why would this be a dream, your highness?"

"i was momentarily convinced that our whole little date was a dream after i woke up, too, actually. but thank god, suguru was there to tell me that you did, in fact, save me. and, and you – yes, you – kindly refused the money and even told me to go and buy myself a new outfit." it's so off-putting how matter of fact it sounds. like he really thought it was a dream. you wonder, whether that's a good or a bad thing.

"well, did you?"

"i did. it matches your eyes. if i had known my little knight was in town, i wouldn've worn it." he sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes before setting his gaze on the river below.

another breeze bristles through the two of you, rustling the prince's hair. the desire to fix it is weirdly strong, you push it aside. a cloud appears and moves in front of the beaming sun, casting a shadow upon you.

"i'm not your knight, your highness. nor am i little." straightening your back, you try to remind him of that. it's hard, he doesn't really take you seriously like that. it irks you.

"yeah– yeah." he brushes it off with ease. no harm done. the cloud moves a little and a few sun beams drop down onto the prince, leaving you behind into the shadows for a moment before lighting you up again.

"by the way, can you stop doing that?"

"doing what, your highness?" you inquire with a raised brow.

"that. exactly that."

"that what? use your words, your highness. you're a big boy, i know you can do it." it's funny to tease him. the honored prince.

he turns to you, his lips pursed. "your highness."

"your highness?" you push.

"you know exactly what i'm talking about and i need you to stop it."

"why would i, your highness?" of course, you know what he's talking about. he was crying about it the last time you saw each other. his name.

"because, because, because," he pushes himself off the railing, fully turning his body to you. "i want you to call me by my name."

"i won't, your highness." it's a statement. you won't budge. you won't.

"but why? i need you to say my name." his shoulders fall as he looks at you. like a puppy.

"why are you so hell-bent on that? i cannot do that, your highness. it's wrong."

"it's less wrong than calling me an 'idiot' every two seconds?" that — is a good point. you won't tell him that.

"what do you think will happen if you say it, hm? there's nobody here; nobody to shame you for it and even if somebody tried – i'd protect you." the last part tugs the corners of his mouth up, nailing them there, showing off his pearly whites.

"what do you think will happen if i say it, hm?" you shoot back.

his parted lips close. "other than world peace and an end to the famine? i just get to hear it, simple as that."

he's doing it again. kind of trying to claw inside your ribcage. thankfully you're wearing armor; you won't let it happen. you can't. it's crazy, how much his sincerity irks you. and his jokes. and his smile. and his eyes. and the way he won't leave you alone. and the way he keeps bugging you about the name. you won't, though. you will not.

"i can drop the 'your highness', if that'll make you leave me alone."

"yes!" he does a little celebratory movement with his fist and the urge to punch him is back. "that's a start. we're getting somewhere now." flashing you a smirk, he leans back onto the railing.

"we're not getting anywhere, stupid."

the prince smiles to himself as you two have another moment of silence. you're both looking at the same two fish in the river, swimming in circles with each other.

while you're distracted with the river, the prince decides to take another good look at you up close. his eyes scan you from head to toe. another glance at the scar – it's deep and it's old. your eyes look a bit tired, but the prince convinces himself that the little glint in them is because of him. there's an almost healed cut in your bottom lip. there's another scar on your neck. he looks over your cuirass, wondering how heavy it is. your sword hanging from its scabbard. how heavy would that be.

"what happened?" he asks, pointing to your bandaged fingers that you keep fiddling with.

"fought a bear."

...

"what?! you can't just casually say you fought a fucking bear and then just stoically look in the distance?" he's ready to bounce off the walls, three words filling his adrenaline gauge immediately.

"nothing special about it."

it's taking you everything to hold back your laughter.

"wha— what the fuck do you mean 'it's nothing special'? you fought a bear?!"

he's unbelievably naive, actually, because does he seriously think you fought a bear and got away with some scratches on your fingers and nothing else? he's deluded. just for you.

"how big was it? was it mad? did you kill its babies? oh, i hope you didn't kill its babies, that's so bad. wait, did you kill it? why'd you fight it in the first place? c'mon, please tell me. please."

it all comes out in one breath and he looks like he's about to pass out.

"well, i was sent for it actually."

"you were sent for it?"

you hum in agreement.

"a few days after being in town, the flowershop lady sought me out with a problem of hers. the knights of the castle didn't take her seriously, that's why she had to turn to me."

the prince nods, already hooked to your story. he knows the older knights, his father's knights, can be assholes.

"she told me – a bear, like a really, really big one at that, had visited the town on a quiet night. and that it'd stolen some of the flowers from her stand."

he nods again, albeit faintly this time.

"so i went to find it. for her. took me days, the journey was rough." you sigh deeply before glancing at him, almost stopping your false little story because of his confused expression. he's cute. no, he isn't. "t'was an easy fight, though. you know how good i am with the sword. i returned with its head just yesterday. that's why you haven't seen me around."

he looks at you blankly, like a kid, who's parents are trying to convince him that santa claus is indeed real.

"i'm just fucking with you, my liege. i didn't fight a fucking bear, s—" you bite your lip to stop the word from falling from your lip and for your sake, the prince doesn't seem to notice.

"that's so not funny, you know. i really thought you went and fought a bear." he dangles from the railing, sporting a jutted out bottom lip and big doe eyes. poor boy.

you just can't stop the small smile that spreads across your face.

"you thought i fought a bear and got away with a few bandages! it's your own fault, really. you're too naive."

his own lips begin to mirror yours. "so mean. i'm just being positive, okay."

"yeah, okay."

it's a second. where it's all quiet – just you and him, looking at each other and smiling. it's weird. and so good at the same time. you don't know what to do with yourself. he bumps his shoulder into yours before leaning back down. he stays close, an inch between you and you fight the urge to pull away. you're scared. not used to this. it was just a fleeting touch and he doesn't seem that affected. (he is). your eyes flick from the river to the fish to the flowers by the water and to the sky above you. you don't know what to do with yourself.

suddenly high-pitched giggles erupt from somewhere behind you, catching your attention. three little girls in their little pastel dresses, they all have flowers behind their ears. the prince turns around and takes the world's biggest bow possible, making the girls titter once more.

"well, hello to my very favourite girls." he's wearing that sickeningly sweet smile again. he kneels down and beckons them closer. all of their eyes flick over to you and the need to step away is killing you. but as if noticing your uneasiness, the prince tugs on your hand, pulling you down with him. he sends you a reassuring smile and motions for the girls again. this time, they don't hesitate.

one of the girls reminds you of shoko. it's a bit uncanny, really. brown hair and big brown eyes. and she even stares at you the same way, just like she did when you were small; with a sense of curiosity instead of the usual distain you were used to. you try to give her a cautious smile, so afraid she'll be frightened by your sharp teeth, by the scars.

she beams.

the little girl flashes you a grin as if she's ready to compete against the sun or the young prince beside you. her little eyes shine, her little hand reaches out. "can i touch it?"

"touch it?"

"th-the scar." she nods. she's excited?

"oh."

the prince is quietly observing you from the corner of his eye while braiding one of the other girls' hair. the girls taught him that. he's very good at it, too. the third little lady is talking his ear off about the next tea-party they're having. he loves them.

"uhm, you can. yeah." clearing your throat, you lean a little closer to her. the small hand stretches out, her fingers ghost over the long bump across your eye.

"does it hurt?"

you shake your head. not anymore.

"cool." she takes a step back, still looking at you.

the prince swears there are stars in your eyes, and he's determined to make them stay there.

"do you want a flower, too?" one of the other girls asks. she has on a purple dress and she has the biggest bundle of flowers in her hands. there are reds, there are blues, yellows and pinks. it's such a colorful bouquet, you wonder where she found them all.

"i– sure."

"i think..." the prince's hand reaches for the flower, his fingertips ghosting over yours. "this..." he raises it next to your ear. "should go here. what'd you think girls?" they excitedly nod their heads. "yes! yes!"

and to top it off, he whispers a 'be good' to you.

a grumble, is what escapes your tight throat but the quiet giggles that emit from the girls help it relax. the prince's nimble hand pushes a hair behind your ear and places the flower aside it.

"would you look at that, hm?" there's a teasing lilt in there somewhere, you're sure of it. you just can't hear it right now. surely. his eyes are glued to you, making your lips purse. the heat is back, back on its way up your spine and to your neck. this is so silly.

'so pretty' is what one of the girls whispers, followed by a small 'yeah'.

your eyes flick over to them, still waiting for them to just run off but they're there. admiring the knight with the flower behind their ear alongside their prince. the heat is now clawing its way up your neck and onto your face; the warm tint on your cheeks makes the prince coo. that's enough.

standing up, you glare at the prince, who simply cannot put away his smile. switching to the girls, you merely lean over them. "run along now." it was supposed to sound harsh, demanding, but once again you're greeted with their warm smiles and giggles. they wave to their prince and they wave to you before running off.

a tug on your bandaged hand makes you jump. "are you coming to the party?" it's the mini-shoko. tugging on your arm like when you were young.

your eyebrows raise – you don't know the answer to her simple question. it should be a no, but how can you say that to her? you just want her to smile, to keep smiling.

an arms slings over your shoulder, making you glance at the hand and then at the face. he's so close like this.

"they're coming!"

"really?" her eyes have doubled in size, genuinely excited and ready for another knight to attend the party.

"i promise!" he sticks out his pinky and waits for her to do the same. they link them together with mirrored smiles before she, too, runs off. the prince turns his head and your noses almost brush together, making your eyes widen.

"it looks good."

"fuck off." shoving him off of your shoulder, you give him a firm punch against his chest, loud laughter rumbling through it. god, he's annoying.

settling back to your spot resting against the railing and closing your eyes, you take another moment to enjoy the sun. you can feel his eyes on you; it's impossible not to.

"stop staring."

"i can't."

you slightly open one of your eyes and peer at him. his leaning on the thing, cheek mushed against the palm of his hand, eyes set on you. he looks beautiful.

"why don't you wear the blindfold?"

"i don't like it."

"how come?"

"i wanna see the world."

"and you don't with it?"

"yes and no." he rubs his eyes before closing them and mirroring your pose – head turned up to the blue sky. "yes, i technically see everything and no, in a sense that i want to look at people and i want them to look at me. i want to connect with them. with the world. with you." he tilts his head toward you, peeking at you. you shy away from his gaze, scoffing under your nose.

"i heard it gives you headaches?"

"it's worth it."

he means it. you hum.

"it's gonna rain soon." you say it more to yourself than to him.

"no, it won't." he opens his eyes and stares at the clouds slowly drifting in wind above him.

"yes, it will."

"what, you a psychic all of a sudden?"

pointing behind him, you gesture to the way darker clouds now moving in the town's way.

"oh..."

idiot.

"you sure you can be outside when it happens?"

"hm?"

"i heard that little boys like you get washed away in the rain. 'm jus' looking out for you." your eyes are glued to the other side of the river in a stoic manner, whilst the prince gapes at you like the fish in the water.

"i— am not a little boy."

oh, and his voice cracks.

...

his cheeks flush but it's worth it because the next thing he hears is like the sweetest melody in the world – you laugh. you actually laugh.

"right... not a little boy but a pretty little princess instead." and you can't help it, another chuckle bubbling up your throat.

he's in awe. the sun peeks from the grey clouds and soaks you in it's golden light. his knight.

"i—..." and he can't contain his own laughter. "okay, first of all – i'd make a gorgeous princess, for all you know!"

"oh, i don't doubt that." you scoff.

the prince takes a step from the railing and spins himself around, hands outstretched holding his imagenary gown, he bends his knees and bows his head like a true princess.

"the girls have taught you well, i see." your hand rises again to hide your foreign expression; rough, scarred fingers covering the softest grin. "you really are ridiculous..."

"just for you." his voice is always so confident, like he really means it. for you. but he isn't. he isn't for you – you seem to be forgetting that. mistakes like that tend to get punished.

he does another twirl but his feet can't keep up with him and he stumbles backward, a moment away from falling when cold fingers wrap around his wrist, steadying him.

"i don't understand how you're so good with a sword when you can't even stand up without the danger of cracking your skull open."

"you think i'm good with the sword?" he beams.

"that's not— that's... i mean, you're good for a person, who has been training for the most of his life, yeah."

it's the best compliment; you trying to conceal it under some fake little comment won't stop him from him writing it down in his little journal later.

his wrist is still caught in your palm and he doesn't plan on letting you go – swiveling his hand to properly grasp onto yours. it doesn't burn. with a smile he pulls you down the small hill, down toward the river.

"hey!"

your little complaint falls onto his deaf ears; he's determined to keep you with him. forever and ever.

the dark figure staring at you from the distance is hidden by the sound of the prince's addicting laughter. you've let yourself go for a minute and you're about to be punished for it. are you ready?

he drags you right to the calm stream, never letting go of your hand. it feels right. your hand in his. he bends down, you with him, to see what he's up to - only to be splashed right in the face.

"wha— you little fuck."

giggles emit from his throat as he takes a step back, watching you dip your hands into the water. "come here, boy."

it's so easy to forget with him. to forget everything. that you're not supposed to be acting like this. playing like children. especially with the prince. you're not supposed to be laughing. having fun. you're not supposed to.

you splash him back, child-like laughter falling from your lips with ease. it's your fault.

this little chase goes on for a couple of minutes before the prince takes another stumble, bringing you down onto the grassy bed with a thud!

this time – your noses really do bump together, an immediate flush spreading across your face. your armor is heavy on his chest but he doesn't mind. doesn't mind when it comes to you. when you try to get up, his fingers latch onto the metal, gently pressing down on your waist.

his blue eyes gaze up at you but you don't really know what is it that swims in them. you're not acquainted with stuff like this. you don't know what the fuck this man is thinking about right now, but you do know that this is inappropriate. you shouldn't be doing this.

"this is stupid." you try to push yourself up again.

"stay."

you glare at him, gauging the meaning behind his word. is he joking?

"stay." he whispers.

your eyes flick down to his lips. his flick down to yours.

his heart jumps in his chest when you don't push away a third time. he does sense a small scolding ahead though. and he's right because your lips part, curving just the right way—

he knows what you're about to say. what you're gonna start your sentence with. it's coming. he can almost hear it. the smooth 's' on the tip of your tongue—

"boy!"

...

your eyes widen and your lips sow themselves shut in the blink of an eye, forcing the prince watch you swallow his name; push it deep down – as far as it could possibly go. never to be seen again. the weight of your armor lifts from his chest, but another kind remains heavy on his heart.

"boy!" the same voice calls. the prince doesn't need to look to know, who it is. a big figure looms over the two of you, ontop the very hill you spent the last thirty minutes on. even though the man's voice is directed at the prince, his eyes are set on you. scrambling to your feet, your head falls into a shameful bow before the king's guard.

how dare you?

it takes no time to close the distance between him and you. the sheer size of the man hides the prince behind him. from you.

the prince's mouth opens – ready to defend his knigh—

a slap!

the man's back of the hand meets your cheek, jolting you, awakening some well-hidden memories deep in your body. your eyes shoot up to face your foe. you know this man. his eyes are cold; cold as the sudden autumn wind, a wind you know will give you a fever and nail you to your bed. your cheek throbs – a dark pink pool of shame; pure shame and digust of oneself.

"a thieving child dressed as a warrior? hah, this isn't the time to play house."

how dare you?

a sharp intake of breath and the prince is hurling towards you but a strong hand keeps him in place.

"don't." suguru. his arm drapes over the prince's chest, holding him back.

slap!

on the same side. the pink tint rapidly turning into a deep red one.

how dare you?

the prince thrashes in suguru's grasp. a raindrop falls onto his forehead, dripping down by his eyebrow, hiding his already watery eyes – 'a sensitive boy' his mother always said.

the heavy brash rain washes away the light that had been shining in your eyes, turning them back into a pair off dull ones; the beating heart behind your ribs rattling in its cage. stupid.

"never did have any respect for your superiors, did ya? you oughta kneel before your prince. and beg for his forgivess."

"no!" the prince barks.

a tch!

his heavy fist lands against your worn back, stumbling you forward. he doesn't need to tell you twice. you don't wanna hear it twice. with a throbbing red cheek you step before the prince and slowly fall down to your knee, into the mud. where you belong. you reach for the prince's hand, raising it to your face.

"forgive me, my prince."

after what seemed like entirnity, your eyes meet. it's not you. it can't be. chapped lips graze the back of his hand, trembling in your hold while you keep your cold gaze on him. the flower behind your ear has wilted, laying limp, just about ready to fall and sink deep into the ground.

the knife in his chest turns and he can't breathe. another tear brimms in his eye, spilling over the plump of his cheek and blending together with the rain soaking his shirt. it hurts.

"why don't you accompany the prince inside, his father is expecting him." the man orders the dark haired knight.

suguru doesn't look any better than the two of you; his lips indefinitely turned downward, guilt seeping from the hands holding his best friend. he knows he can't do anything for you and he's sure you know it too, it doesn't take away the god awful feeling, though. he feels the prince turning more into a puddle by the second, his grasp on him faltering.

he tugs him a step back, the prince's hand slipping from yours.

"please."

it's only for your ears, yet you don't know what he's asking for. you stand with a head held up high, the cold raindrops easing the burning in your cheek (but not in your chest). you watch them saunter away, watch the prince glance behind him exactly three times. three times too much because he just doesn't get it. he doesn't understand that this is it.

this won't happen again; it cannot happen again. he's just a boy — a boy, who wants to play house, knowing there won't be a punishment for his fun. a mere slap against his fingers that he'll respond to with a frown but nothing more. but a knight? playing house? it's absurd, laughable even. it is disgraceful.

who do you think you are?

who are you to touch the prince with your dirty hand? who are you to stain him with your tainted touch? how dare you muddy their little doll? their precious prince? you're some foul creature seen on the street; an agressive dog, ready to chew up the prince. he's not for you to touch, to have — he's theirs. he is everything and you are nothing.

and in the end — you're not even a real knight.

[jacksnwangs]

Lol, I don't mind long messages at all ;) Anyway, I wanted to request snapshots of Jihoon's perspective. You know how you rewrote the major scenes in Yoongi's perspective? I was wondering like, what was Jihoon thinking when he suggested that Jimin should date Yoongi, when he saw Yoongi come home crying, when they got married, etc. Thank you! ;) (Also I literally just read so many of your Yoonmins and I love your angst so much, I recced your fics on bantanficrecs, I don't know if you saw. xD)

does anyone even follow me anymore? i know it's been literal years since you asked this and unfortunately, i don't know that i'll follow through and finish all the scenes, but i did in the past couple years write a solid 6k of jihoon perspective so i thought i'd post a little bit just to honor this very very old request! and who knows. i miss writing a lot and even though i'm not really on the rpf/kpop fic train anymore, i love the relationships i created with jihoon as an oc so it's not impossible i finish this as a whole story one day soon ;)

you definitely need to read the original when you're in love all the lines get blurred for this one to make sense

i.

Jihoon is fourteen when he answers the phone, Jimin already partway through whining a complaint as the connection completes. There’s the rough crackle of static that he’s gotten used to from his old, hand-me down flip phone and then he hears, “… that I’m gay and she laughed at me!”

It’s said with that can you even believe it! kind of tone that makes it seem like Jihoon should know what’s going on and he should be on Jimin’s side. Jihoon, as is usually true, does not know what’s going on, and probably wouldn’t even if he’d caught the first half of Jimin’s sentence, but, as is always true, he is on Jimin’s side.

He tucks away Jimin’s casual announcement away to consider later, if he can remember to, and focuses on the more pressing issue: “She laughed at you?” Jimin makes an enthusiastic noise, which Jihoon hears clearly as thank god, you understand, before launching back into a rant about his mom and not being taken seriously. It gives Jihoon the same sense of pride he feels when a teacher calls on him because they know he isn’t paying attention and he gets the answer right anyways.

Jihoon follows the conversation, making vague sounds to express outrage and sympathy at all the right points until he hears a faint knocking through the line and Jimin hurries to end the call with a grateful and cheery, “love you, bye!”

Jihoon does not, in fact, remember to address the part where Jimin just came out to him.  

ii.

Jihoon is sixteen when he has to spend half a week needling Jimin to find out why he’s been using every free period to pout and stare longingly out windows like a weekday drama character. When he finally does get Jimin to cop to marathon moping, the two of them slumped against each other on Jihoon’s bed with their backs against the wall, Jimin still tries to get away with mumbling, “It’s nothing, just a… little argument with my mom.”

“Oh,” Jihoon says, because Jimin never fights with his mom, or anyone, really, and he can’t remember the last time Jimin was even annoyed with her. Until he does, and he says, a little too excited, “Oh! Did you try to tell her you’re gay again?”

Jimin blanches, immediately, and Jihoon can’t fathom why he’s got that wide-eyed, stricken look on his face. It’s not like Jihoon cares. He’s never thought twice about it, not once in the years since he found out, not even long enough to tease Jimin about how much he blushed and stammered when that one handsome teacher from the dance studio complimented him on his improving skill.

“I-I-I,” He stutters, and Jihoon briefly wants to make the joke about how nervous that guy makes Jimin now, but he waits, because he lives mostly to embarrass Jimin but there’s a time and a place and this probably isn’t it. Jimin abruptly scrambles away from Jihoon, nearly falling off the bed in his rush to create some distance, “How did you know?”

“What do you mean, how did I know? You told me!” It never occurred to Jihoon that it might be a big deal. The first time, Jihoon had accepted it just as casually and easily as Jimin had said it. If Jimin had sat him down to have a big coming out moment like they sometimes do in American movies, Jihoon probably would’ve said something at least vaguely nice to fit the moment. “Did you forget?”

“You never said anything!” Jimin accuses instead of admitting he totally forgot he came out to his best friend in the middle of complaining about his mom one time, like, two years ago.

“Why would I say anything? You’re the one who’s gay!”

“Stop saying that,” Jimin demands. Jihoon swallows back a petulant ‘but you are’.  No one is home, Jihoon knows, and Jimin probably does too, but he still glances furtively towards the door like someone might hear. There’s another sarcastic comment, as there usually is, on the tip of Jihoon’s tongue – something disparaging about his older brother, no doubt.

Probably also thinking about Yoongi, Jimin suddenly asks, without looking at Jihoon, “Did you tell anyone?” He’s so tense it seems painful, hands closing into fists around Jihoon’s wrinkled bed spread, smoothing Jihoon’s own defensive edge into something more sympathetic.

“Who would I tell?” Jihoon replies softly. Sure, he’ll whine and argue when Yoongi makes some passing comment about Jihoon only having one friend because Yoongi sucks, but it’s not like he’s wrong. He’ll pretend to be bitter about it, but, in reality, Jimin and Jihoon have been friends for sixteen years and Jihoon’s never seen the need for anyone else. And, contrary to popular (read: Yoongi’s) belief, Jihoon isn’t a huge asshole. If he did have someone worth telling, even if he thought Jimin wouldn’t care who knows, he wouldn’t have.

Jimin accepts this without further argument, maybe because he’s acknowledging that Jihoon is a better friend than that and wouldn’t spill secrets that aren’t his to share, but probably because he also knows they are an exclusive duo.

They fall into a long silence, Jimin panicking while Jihoon sits very still and hopes Jimin will come to his own conclusions. The facts are obvious – Jihoon has known for two years, and Jihoon has known while believing Jimin wanted Jihoon to know, and absolutely nothing about their friendship has changed. If Jihoon was going to care, if Jihoon was going to spread rumors and turn his back on his best friend, he would’ve done it by now.

Jimin seems to get there, eventually, but he still whispers, too full of doubt, “you really don’t care?

Jihoon drags Jimin back into his side by grabbing him loosely around his neck and yanking him into a headlock. He rests his cheek against the top of Jimin’s head, keeping him close, and promises, “You are the same person you’ve always been.”

iii.

Jihoon is eighteen when he gets a text from his best friend saying, apropos of nothing, “I’m an idiot.”

He doesn’t ask why. Jimin doesn’t explain.

Jihoon texts back, “i think you meant ‘a dumbass’ but ok.”

iv.

Jihoon isn’t sure exactly how long Jimin’s been lying next to his bed. He didn’t pay much attention when Jimin came in and shut the door with an irritated huff. In fact, Jihoon didn’t even look up from his phone, recognizing the sound of Jimin’s heavy footfalls on the steps leading up to his bedroom before the door opened. Jimin might have texted to say he was coming, the message buried somewhere in any number of notifications Jihoon has been ignoring for the sake of doing nothing else, but it’s just as likely he showed up unannounced.

He’s been sighing at freakishly perfect one minute and forty second intervals – Jihoon counted the time between five in a row after the first dozen before getting bored – since he arrived and threw himself bodily onto the floor of Jihoon’s bedroom, which is certainly unclean.

Jimin will keep sighing and Jihoon will keep pretending he doesn’t notice, not because he doesn’t care, but because he knows better. If he tries to ask what’s wrong, Jimin will insist it’s nothing, and then worry about why Jihoon thought something was wrong, and then he’ll get self-conscious about how his face looks and what his voice sounds like and act weird and robotic because he’s trying so hard to make it seem like everything is fine and then it’ll take an extra three days for Jimin to actually talk about whatever it is he’s sighing about. It’s better to let Jimin huff and puff until he’s built up enough steam to bring it up himself.

The rhythm of Jimin’s angst becomes strangely soothing, turning into such a relaxing backdrop to Jihoon’s mindless scrolling that he’s somewhere near half-asleep by the time Jimin speaks.

“What am I gonna do?” The question prompts Jihoon closer to consciousness. Jimin keeps talking, but Jihoon only has the chance to process the word “boyfriend” before he’s dropping his phone and rolling away from the wall to glare at Jimin.

“You got a boyfriend?” Jihoon feels a genuine hurt, thinking that Jimin, who Jihoon has always supported without question and very few (genuine) complaints, would keep secrets from him.

“No,” Jihoon is pleased to see that Jimin looks as scandalized as he feels. “That’s the whole problem,” he continues, and then asks again, because it apparently wasn’t rhetorical, “what am I going to do?”

Jihoon suggests he fake a breakup, the easiest solution, but Jimin is right that it won’t work. Ending the life of a lie quickly is, of course, ideal, but lies are best when there are some messy loose ends that just can’t be tied up or explained away. Having a few holes in your story can make it more believable, as long as you’re careful about where you leave them.

Jihoon also suggests Jimin gets a boyfriend, which is a win-win. Maybe even a win-win-win. Jimin’s mom believes he’s gay, win. Jimin has a boyfriend, big win.  Jihoon’s best friend is happy, the biggest win of them all.

And, sure, Jimin has a point. If it were that easy to find someone to date, Jimin would have brought one home back when he was fourteen and his mom laughed at him, and Jihoon would not be counting the seconds between Jimin’s exhales at three in the afternoon on a beautiful spring Saturday, and Yoongi would have something to do other than sleep for twelve hours at a time and somehow still be the crankiest man alive.

Jimin visibly gives up when Jihoon declines to be Jimin’s fake boyfriend, easily the worst idea either of them has ever suggested. What should happen is Jihoon should be sympathetic and comforting, while they conclude Jimin will admit he lied and continue to live his life as he has been. If the two of them thought about it for maybe, like, fifteen more minutes they would realize that Jimin’s mom refusing to accept his identity is unfair and hurtful but ultimately inconsequential. That, eventually, Jimin will naturally find a genuine relationship and he will introduce that person to his mom because he wants to share his life with them, not because he wants this specific acknowledgment from his otherwise loving mother.

However, what actually happens, because Jihoon does not believe in thinking about things for more than one minute, and because Jimin looks kind of pathetic and more importantly, sad, and Jihoon simply will not stand for that, is Jihoon grapples for any other plan, just anything to get Jimin’s enthusiasm back. What actually happens is, Jihoon says, “My brother’s gay!”

Jimin doesn’t look like he believes Jihoon, even when Jihoon lays out his very strong evidence of Yoongi kissing boys sometimes like, five years ago. Yoongi never said he was gay, sure, but in Jihoon’s defense, Yoongi didn’t say much of anything, especially not to him, and especially not when Yoongi was in high school. The most they ever talked about it, Jihoon thinks, is after the third time when Yoongi came inside after saying goodbye to his friend and found Jihoon staring at him over the back of the couch. They’d held silent eye contact until Jihoon had pursed his lips to make kissy noises and Yoongi, before Jihoon could follow through, told him to shut up and left the room.

So, maybe Yoongi never said he’s gay, but he also never said he wasn’t gay, and that’s about as close to Jimin’s type as they’re going to get in the next sixty seconds – and as established, Jihoon does not plan farther ahead than that – so he suggests him.

It’s only meant to be that – a suggestion. Something that will get Jimin’s spirit back for a few more minutes until the new plan is inevitably foiled. Jihoon gives it, at best, a two percent chance Yoongi even entertains the idea. If it were him, ignoring the deeply problematic nature of asking your own brother to fake date you to fool your mom, he’d give it a solid zero. The odds of Yoongi doing something for another person are, by Jihoon’s estimation, astronomically low. The odds of Yoongi doing something for him are lower. But, in his roughly fifteen years of observation, Jihoon’s noticed that Yoongi has what one may call, if they were being generous, a bit of a soft spot for Jimin. Jihoon does not blame him. Jimin is very hard not to adore.

“You want me to date your brother?” Jimin asks, and that is not what Jihoon said. He gags, only a little on purpose, at the idea. It’s not clear if he’s more disgusted at the idea of Jimin dating his brother, or Jimin dating his brother, and he’s not going to consider it long enough to figure it out.

“I want you to fake date him,” Jihoon clarifies, and he doesn’t dwell on how, nothing better to do or not, Yoongi probably isn’t going to help. And he doesn’t dwell on how the entire charade is definitely dumb and unnecessary, because Jimin doesn’t need to prove anything to anyone but himself. And he doesn’t dwell on the mounting swell of unease when Jimin peeks his head around the open doorway to say, full of disbelief, “uh, he said yes, so I’m going to talk to him for a while.”

v.

“Stop telling people I’m gay,” Jihoon is startled but forces himself not to flinch when Yoongi suddenly speaks, catching Jihoon as he passes Yoongi’s bedroom to get to the bathroom.

Jihoon manages to take it in stride and says without looking, “Then stop doing gay shit.”

vi.

In a truly delightful turn of events, Jihoon catches Yoongi talking to himself in front of a pile of black t-shirts several hours before he’s supposed to fake meet Jimin’s mom for not the first time. It’s been a long time since Jihoon has seen Yoongi flustered and off-kilter like this and he’s going to enjoy it as much as he can.

“Aren’t you going to Jimin’s today?” Jihoon asks, squinting at the pile to try and see if he can guess what Yoongi’s current contenders are. It’s a pointless question. There are roughly two hundred anxious, nonsensical text messages clogging his inbox making him damn certain Yoongi is, unless Jimin’s clearly

unfounded fears that Yoongi suddenly changes his mind come true. Well, maybe not entirely unfounded, Jihoon thinks. Perhaps Yoongi won’t be able to pick a shirt and will cancel to avoid the shame.

Jihoon is not one to let such a wonderful opportunity go to waste, so he takes his time teasing Yoongi until Yoongi has physically removed him and slammed his bedroom door completely shut. He’s also not one to let Yoongi have the last word, making sure to yell back through the wall that Yoongi’s ridiculous.

Halfway through making good on his promise to tell Jimin that Yoongi spent all morning picking an outfit, standing in the middle of his room because he couldn’t hold it in long enough to flop back onto his bed, Jihoon pauses. It’s been a long time since Jihoon has seen Yoongi flustered and off-kilter.

The harder he tries to remember, the more he realizes he’s never seen Yoongi that flustered and off-kilter.

Jihoon erases the message and heads to his closet.

vii.

Jihoon isn’t waiting for Yoongi. He just happens to be downstairs. Did he watch Yoongi nitpick at his clothes through the window until he had walked out of sight? It’s possible. Has he spent the past two and a half flipping anxiously between channels because he can’t focus on any one show? Maybe. Is he waiting for Yoongi to come back from his first fake date? Absolutely not.

He does, when he hears the sound of a key in the front door, suddenly rearrange himself from his stiff, upright position into a (hopefully) casual-looking slouch and try to appear extremely invested in the baseball game he hasn’t been watching. Since he wasn’t waiting for Yoongi, he doesn’t look up when the front door opens and shuts, or when he hears Yoongi puttering around in the entryway.

After changing his shoes and hanging up his coat, Yoongi comes to stand behind the couch. Jihoon doesn’t really care, of course, but it seems impolite not to, so he asks, “How was your date?”

“Fake date,” Yoongi corrects absently, weirdly focused on the tv while Jihoon stares up at his chin. It seems like it’s all he’s going to say, which should not surprise or disappoint Jihoon, but kind of does. They don’t really talk, about anything. Yoongi doesn’t talk much to anyone, and they aren’t close, and Jihoon has learned to be okay with the ever-widening distance between them.

But, maybe Jihoon was waiting, and maybe Jihoon did think it would be different this time. Even though they’re brothers, it was starting to feel like Jimin was something they could have in common. Yoongi did agree to Jimin’s insane fake dating scheme, and if Jimin can be trusted, Yoongi did most of the actual planning. In the back of his mind, Jihoon thought, maybe if Yoongi was opening up to Jimin, and Jimin is an extension of Jihoon, then Yoongi could let Jihoon in too.

“How was your fake date?” Jihoon sighs, long-suffering, and hopes it hides any desperation.

Almost on cue, Jihoon’s phone vibrates noisily from where it’s fallen between the couch cushions. They both know, without looking, exactly who the message is from. Yoongi snorts before asking, “Hasn’t Jimin already told you?”

They both know the message is from Jimin, and they both know Jimin has been messaging consistently for the past three hours, and Jihoon could let this go. He could let it go like he always does. He can pretend he wasn’t waiting, and he can pretend he doesn’t care. Instead, Jihoon says, a touch too softly, “Yeah, but I’m asking you.”

The silence goes on long enough that Jihoon thinks Yoongi might really ignore him, which isn’t that strange, but normally he at least has the decency to leave a room if he’s going to act like Jihoon isn’t there.

Just before Jihoon gets uncomfortable enough to exit the conversation himself, Yoongi says, “You don’t like baseball.”

“Yes,” Jihoon agrees. He’s been staring up at Yoongi’s chin, watching Yoongi not-watch the game, Unexpectedly, Yoongi glances down and meets his eyes. Jihoon would feel exposed, but Yoongi doesn’t look long.

“It was fine,” Yoongi says.

viii.

Jihoon isn’t jealous. He totally doesn’t care that his best friend, his only friend, if you ask anyone, is suddenly spending his free time with Jihoon’s brother. Jihoon definitely doesn’t think they’re being excessive, with how much they’re suddenly hanging around Jimin’s house, even though Jimin’s mom has a job and probably isn’t even there half the time. It’s not like Jihoon wants to hang out with both of them and watch them do weird, fake couple stuff, either.

Jihoon isn’t mad. It doesn’t matter to him that his brother, the same brother that once took every opportunity to complain about the general existence of Jihoon as a person and Jimin as a permanent fixture, has all the time in the world to play happy couple with someone he acted like he hated three weeks ago. He definitely doesn’t want Yoongi to suddenly decide he’s worth his time and start playing happy big brother.

Jihoon isn’t disappointed. He doesn’t care that his best friend seems to have forgotten he exists, and it doesn’t matter that his brother chose his best friend over him. It’s not like he thought maybe the three of them would bond, like they would all laugh about Jihoon’s great idea and what a success it was, and Jihoon could fake third wheel until the three of them together wasn’t so pretend anymore.

Jihoon’s fine.

ix.

About a month after the whole stupid charade started, and no, Jihoon is not acknowledging that it was, technically, his idea, Jimin’s over for the first time in a couple weeks. He’s sitting on the floor next to the couch while Jihoon is stretched out across the cushions. A movie they’ve both seen about one hundred times is playing on the tv, so neither of them is paying much attention, but it’s nice. Jihoon thinks they should probably be talking more, given how little they have been lately, but there’s something to be said about companionable silence. Every five minutes or so, Jimin will lean back enough that the back of his head will press into the soft dip below Jihoon’s ribs and it feels familiar, like home. It makes Jihoon wonder if Jimin has been missing him just as much. On one of the touches, Jihoon reaches out to affectionately ruffle up Jimin’s hair.

Jimin shifts, pushing into the contact, so Jihoon leaves his hand there. He wants to say something, talk about how he’s doing, but he’s afraid it’ll all come out too honest – it’s been lonely, I wish I’d been more included, I wish things could be different between me and Yoongi, I wish I could be close to Yoongi like you seem to be. He wants to ask what it’s like, when he and Yoongi are together, what do they talk about, is he nice, does he talk about me.

He doesn’t say those things, but he does ask, hopeful things will go back to normal soon, “did you two fake break up yet?”

Unexpectedly, Jimin seems a little surprised by the question, even though Jihoon was pretty sure that’s why Yoongi went to Jimin’s house all weird and morose the morning before. Predictably, when he came back in the afternoon, he didn’t say anything, but he seemed normal, at the least, if not a bit happy. Jihoon hadn’t known if he should take it as the breakup being successful, or nothing happening at all, but he’d assumed the former.

Jihoon tries not to read into what Yoongi’s moods before and after may have meant, as Jimin tells him, “oh, um, no, we decided to continuing faking for a while longer.”

When Jihoon asks why, Jimin says, “Well, it’s not like there’s any reason we have to stop now, and, my mom seems to be really getting used to the idea, you know, so I think with some more time she’ll really accept it, and, Yoongi agreed we should continue, so…”

Jimin trails off and Jihoon lets him. None of it is quite a lie, but it’s not the truth either. Jihoon knows Jimin better than he knows himself, can hear him scrambling for another excuse, something to prove that he believes in what he’s saying, something to make it make sense to himself. It’s obvious that Jimin has no idea why, but Jihoon doesn’t call him on it.

They’re both idiots, Jihoon thinks. They’re both idiots, but they probably know what they’re doing.

Probably.

Right?

x.

They do this now, sometimes, have conversations. It’s not like Yoongi is spilling his darkest secrets and asking Jihoon about his and there’s no brotherly bonding but it is a step up from passing each other like strangers in the hallway or only communicating through insults across the dinner table.

He can ask “how was your day” and Yoongi will respond with something vague and uninformative but not overtly negative and let them lapse back into silence. Jihoon can then, in an intentionally bad approximation of his brother, say, “Wow, Jihoon, thank you for asking, how was your day?” And Yoongi will give him the stink-eye, and he won’t say the words, but he’ll wait around and actually listen when Jihoon does tell him. It’s progress.

Today, Jihoon finds Yoongi drinking juice straight out of the shared carton and calls him a heathen. It’s a Sunday, and its only early afternoon, so Jihoon is surprised to find him out of his room at all. In a big step up from their normal routine, when Jihoon asks what he’s up to, Yoongi says, “I went for lunch with Jimin and some other people.”

Jihoon knows ‘some other people’ can’t be ‘some other people Jimin knows’, because he’s the only other people Jimin knows. By process of elimination, then, these must be people Yoongi knows, and shocked, he says “You have friends?”

This earns him a very familiar dirty look, Yoongi mumbling something about how alike he and Jimin are before replying clearly, “I have more friends than you and Jimin combined.”

With a thoughtful hum, Jihoon asks, “Combined, do we have one friend or two friends?”

Yoongi smiles, really smiles, genuinely, and Jihoon has to tense up his whole body to keep from physically pumping his fist into the air at his success.

If they were any two other people, that wouldn’t be the end of the conversation, but they are who they are, so it is.

Progress is progress.

xi.

“That was nice of you.”

“What?”

“What you said to Jimin – it was nice.”

“I can be nice.”

“But you aren’t.”

“Are you picking a fight?”

“I’m just saying. You can be nice, but it seems like you only are nice to one person.”

“It sounds like you’re not saying anything.”

“I meant – “

“Jihoon, just drop it.”

Jihoon, in a rare show of magnanimity, does.

xii.

Jihoon swallows back the hurt, and the jealousy, and the anger, and the disappointment, just like he swallows back his desperate questions, why did you stop following us around back then and are you teasing, or do you really mean those things and what did I do wrong and can I fix it?

xiii.

It’s been at least thirty minutes since Jimin stammered out an excuse about needing to “ask Yoongi uh, something, about the, you know, fake boyfriend… thing.” Jihoon isn’t sure what they could possibly have to talk about. First of all, they’ve had plenty of time outside of the few precious hours Jihoon has convinced Jimin to finally pay attention to him. Secondly, how difficult can it be to pretend to be in a relationship for a few months. Has Jimin’s mom really not gotten it, yet? She seemed pretty convinced when Jihoon saw the three of them after Jimin’s last showcase, but what would he know.

Part of him hopes that they’re up there discussing how to break up, because then Jimin won’t do things like disappear mid-game to talk to Yoongi, or stop coming over for a week at a time because he’s hanging out with Yoongi at his own house, and he won’t get so distracted responding to texts that he doesn’t even notice Jihoon needling him about some handsome actor or another. That hope placates him for another fifteen minutes of getting angry at pre-teens who are much better at video games than he is, but Jihoon can only handle so much x-box live before he wants Jimin to be the one kicking his ass.

After almost an hour of waiting, Jihoon’s patience reaches its limit, and he tilts his head back to yell Jimin’s name at the ceiling. Nothing happens for another several minutes, not even a shout back or an irritated ‘shut up’ from Yoongi. He pauses the game to hear better and tries again. This time, immediately, there’s a heavy thud of something hitting the floor and a short burst of footsteps. Jihoon waits for the sound of the door creaking open, but it doesn’t come.

He presses his head back against the couch cushions until he can almost see the stairs and calls, “If you don’t come down, I’ll come up there!”

It’s supposed to be a benign, meaningless threat. In part because he won’t, Jihoon’s laziness outweighing his desire for Jimin to rejoin the game, in part because there shouldn’t be any real consequence if he does go to see what’s taking so long.

Apparently, there could’ve been, because Jimin comes rushing down the stairs already spilling out apologies. As he comes around the couch, Jihoon notices that Jimin’s face is flushed pink and his hair is unusually disheveled and his bottom lip is just a little swollen and startingly red and, “oh my god, did you just make out with my brother?”

“What?” Jimin is immediately too defensive, looking anywhere but at Jihoon, and, because he is a lying liar who lies, he says, “no!”

“You just made out with my brother!” Jihoon repeats, “You left me down here to go and make out with my brother! For an hour!”

“We didn’t make out for an hour,” it takes Jimin ten seconds too long to realize that his argument only proves Jihoon right. He looks sheepish, briefly, before falling back into defensive, “It doesn’t matter, anyways! You know we’re only faking dating.”

“You can’t fake kiss!” Jihoon bursts, incredulous and furious and disgusted. It doesn’t help that Jimin looks, behind the bravado, lost and a little helpless.

“It doesn’t matter, okay?” He insists, “It didn’t mean anything.”

Jihoon makes a high-pitched, frustrated noise meant to convey are you sure and does he know that and why would you kiss him and why would he kiss you and I don’t even know who I’m angrier at.

Apparently, Jimin is not so attuned to Jihoon these days, because he doesn’t get it, and he just says, quick and dismissive even though he’s still clearly anxious, “Really, don’t worry about it.”

Jihoon is well-versed in not worrying about it. Jihoon worries about very little. Jihoon lets things go, all the time, easy as breathing.

Jihoon is, whether he’ll admit it or not, a little worried.

xiv.

The first thing Jihoon thinks, when Jimin tells him he has a boyfriend, is that Jimin should probably sound happier about it. His whole story comes out uncharacteristically stilted and flat, Jimin’s smile looking so forced while he recounts the first date and jokes about some kiss they almost got seen having last weekend. It’s not like Jimin, excitedly recounting some fake couple outing he and Yoongi had under the guise of updating Jihoon on how successful the plan was going. Or when Jihoon caught on to his impromptu make-out with Yoongi, where Jimin was flushed and stuttering and embarrassed and every few minutes Jihoon would catch him fighting a smile in his peripherals.

That’s the second thing Jihoon thinks, what about Yoongi? He wonders idly if Yoongi knew. If that’s what that look Yoongi’s been giving him lately is for. Yoongi never intentionally seeks him out, but when they do cross paths in their shared house, Yoongi will stare at him, uncomfortably long and searching, like Jihoon knows something he doesn’t. The likelihood would normally be low, because Jihoon is not one for knowing things. However, the things Jihoon does know are usually about Jimin, and the things Yoongi cares about these days are also usually about Jimin, an unexpected venn diagram. So, in this one case, there’s a fair chance Jihoon has whatever information Yoongi is silently looking for.

Was this what Yoongi was waiting for him to know?

“So, you and Yoongi are over, or whatever?” Jihoon asks, a little nonsensically, but there’s a quiet bitterness that Yoongi never said anything. Sure, Yoongi doesn’t say much of substance to him, but he was starting to. And those looks – did Jimin tell Yoongi first?  

“We were never together,” Jimin replies stiffly, and Jihoon has that thought again – shouldn’t he be happier about this?

Before he can ask, Jihoon is struck with a terrible realization.

He and Yoongi were almost getting closer, because Jimin was a tether between them. If their thing is done, the progress Jihoon made will go too.

xv.

It’s pure chance that Jihoon runs into Yoongi. The shine of loitering around waiting for him after every visit to Jimin’s for the chance to pry into what the two of them could possibly talk about all those hours they spend together has long worn off, in part because the answer typically turned out to be we sat in silence like absolute freaks for most of it.

So, this time, Jihoon really isn’t waiting for Yoongi. He’s got his knee bent at an awkward angle so he can press his shoe, sole first, against the wall. Yoongi opens the door just as he’s leaning forward against his own thigh to adjust the laces and Jihoon immediately prepares to argue, because Yoongi hates when he doesn’t just sit down on the bench to tie his shoes, and always nags about how that’s what it’s there for  and you’re going to scuff up the walls and Jihoon finds great joy in how much Yoongi seems to care about something so inconsequential. The anticipation for the pointless but familiar routine is quickly curbed by Yoongi not acknowledging Jihoon’s presence at all.

Yoongi kicks his own shoes off roughly, throwing them into the normally pristine line of other pairs so that shoes scatter and knock noisily against the wall. It’s so deeply out of character, Jihoon doesn’t even think to take the opportunity to call him out on the hypocrisy. He’s not looking at Jihoon, either, and not in that usual you’re-not-worth-my-attention kind of way, or like he’s just so distracted by his own bullshit he’s genuinely not noticed Jihoon. The not-looking is intentional, like he’s trying to hide something. Jihoon leans so far back he almost falls on his ass, trying to look, thinking maybe he’s gotten a secret face piercing, or someone gave him a black eye.

What Jihoon sees, when he manages to peek at Yoongi’s face before Yoongi can rush himself up the stairs, is much worse.

[solarwonux]

10. I still remember the way you taste.

yoongi x f!reader

w.c: 3.8k (YES I GOT CARRIED AWAY SUE ME)

warnings: smut, semi unprotected sex, make up sex, some angst. Briefly edited.

note: lol i think I forgot how to write smut but anyway, hi, um, yes I got carried away lmao. But yeah let me know your thoughts. Send me a drabble prompt hehe. Thank you for reading I hope you enjoy.

drabble game

“I still remember the way you taste.”  Yoongi’s  knee is wedged in between your thighs as he attacks your neck in desperate open-mouthed kisses. “Yoongi, f-fuck, s-stop.” You say in between pants, placing your hands against his chest in an attempt to create some sort of space between the two of you. 

Yoongi smirks against your skin and lifts his head, eyeing you down, pushing his hips further into yours, showing you how much he needed you. “I’ve been holding back from you all weekend. The guys even have a bet going on to see how long I can keep my distance from you.” His hand travels down the side of your body, bunching your silk dress up to your thighs. “Safe to say Jungkook, Hoseok, and Seokjin have lost.” 

You roll your eyes. “God, don’t talk about them right now.” You run a finger down his clothed chest, stopping above the first button of his vest. “At least not when you’re about to fuck me in the bathroom of your best friend’s wedding reception” You pop the first button, earning an enticing low groan from your ex-boyfriend. 

“Hey!” He exclaims flicking your forehead lightly, “he’s your best friend too.” 

“Yoongi, I’m serious I hear their names come out of your lips one more time and I’ll leave you to take care of yourself.” You say as he apologizes with a nod of his head. You unbutton the next two buttons of his vest, stopping before pushing it off his body finally taking in the situation and your surroundings. The bathroom wasn’t dirty, nor was it clean. It had a musty smell making you wonder if someone had already done the deed before the two of you walked in.  “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.” You quirk a questioning eyebrow. 

He shakes his head in disbelief, “I’m not walking through the reception and the hotel lobby with a boner.” He grinds his hips against yours, proving his point. You let out a moan throwing your head back, hitting the wall behind you lightly. He felt so good, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the hand dryer was painfully digging into your back. You would’ve agreed with his statement. 

“Just stay behind me, I’ll cover you. Who’s room is closer?” You push him away, finally creating the distance you needed. You turn to face the mirror, fixing your smudged lipstick. Yoongi was shocked, staring at you. God, you were so sexy, the product of his late-night escapades by himself. Especially after the two of you had mutually called it quits. 

All throughout the weekend you were driving him crazy, reeling him in to then push him away. He suspects that was your revenge for breaking up with you. One you only agreed to because you knew that once his mind was set on something, there was no way to talk him out of it. 

He had almost survived. Almost. That small buzzword was thrown out the window the second you entered the green room where he and all the rest of the groomsmen were waiting in to let them know the ceremony was going to start in five minutes. The long silk lilac dress you were wearing left little to his imagination, one he didn’t have to use much because he had spent years memorizing every single part of your body. 

You giggle at his dazed look, sending him a wink through the mirror before turning to face him again, planting a slow sensual kiss against his lips, pulling away before he could respond. “Hurry up or I might change my mind.” You pat his chest and walk past him. “I’ll wait outside.” You say in a sing-song voice and Yoongi was now fully convinced you were messing with him. Exuding your revenge and he had foolishly fallen into your trap. 

The walk through the reception was a nightmare. 

Yoongi felt like he couldn’t breathe, his hand sweating in between yours. He sent glares into your back and they only got worse every time you stopped to talk about your new start-up business, with someone he barely recognized. He was proud of you for finally leaving your job. He had witnessed many of your angry breakdowns, his heart shattering every time you cried into his chest because of how unhappy you were working for your dream company. That when he finally got word that you had left and started your own company, boldly rivaling your old one. The sigh of relief he let out was monumental. He was proud of you and would’ve told you, praised you, as you happily explained your ideas. That’s if he was thinking with his head and heart not his dick, which was straining painfully against the waistband of his slacks. If it wasn’t for his suit jacket doing most of the work in hiding it he would’ve died out of pure agony and embarrassment.  

“We finally found an office and we’re moving in when Jimin gets back from his honeymoon. Sadly, he says I’m not allowed to start decorating without him, scared I’ll put an outside fountain in the middle of the whole place.” You say, prompting a booming laugh from Jimin’s dad. 

Jimin’s mom shakes her head, “he gets his perfectionism from my side of the family, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry, honestly, I don’t have an ounce of interior design in my body, so I’d rather he be there to supervise before he yells at me saying that I’ve ruined everything.” 

Yoongi could feel the sweat start to pool above his brow, tuning you and Jimin’s parents out. He had never felt this needy in his entire life. He supposes it's the adrenaline rush of seeing you in such a revealing dress or the fact that he missed you. The last year and a half without you had been awful. Everything reminded him of you and he had to fight the urge to just call you. He never did. Afraid you had found it in yourself to finally hate him for breaking your heart. 

“Yoongi, sweetheart, are you okay?” Jimin’s mom asked, placing the back of her hand against his forehead, making him flinch. “Oh dear, you’re burning up, maybe you should go lay down.” The worry in her voice was evident, melting his heart. Jimin’s parents always treated him like he was one of their own, welcoming him with open arms when Jimin had first invited him and the guys over for lunch after school almost ten years ago. When Yoongi’s parents had kicked him out for choosing to study music production instead of something ‘meaningful’ they had taken him and even offered to pay for his school expenses. He owed them a lot, and if circumstances were different he would’ve thanked them profusely, just like he always did.  

“I think he has a fever so I’m going to walk him back to his room.” You nod your head, letting go of his hand and looping your arm with his. “It must’ve been the shrimp appetizer, he’s never been good with seafood, right baby?” The evil glint in your eye was too much. You’re teasing was getting too much for him to handle. He’s never seen this side of you. It excited him. 

“Right!” 

“Oh please, hurry, we’ll let Jimin know you had to leave early I’m sure he’ll understand.” Jimin’s mom said, pushing the two of you towards the exit. 

Once the two of you were away, closer to the double doors of the reception hall you leaned in, “How are you holding up?” 

“Get me out of here before I drag you to the nearest bathroom again.” 

“Wait, wait, wait.” You hold your hand out before Yoongi can step any closer to your body. A sound of annoyance erupting from his chest. Once upon a time, Yoongi had prided himself in being patient. Tonight was not one of those times. 

The second the two of you were alone in the elevator, his hands and mouth were all over you. Painting beautiful flowers with his mouth against your skin. The noises he had elicited from you made his chest swell with pride and his cock throb painfully against his pants. Every ounce of self control he once harbored was long gone. He didn’t want to miss another second where he wasn’t touching you. 

Yoongi had almost lost his mind while you were fumbling to get the door to your hotel room open. Though, that was mainly his fault, he literally couldn’t keep his hands off of you. 

Yet, now that you were finally in the safety of your hotel room, Yoongi didn’t understand why you were still resisting him and it made him even more frustrated both sexually and emotionally. “What, what do I have to wait for now, I’m so close to coming in my pants please just let me fuck you.” He all but begged, even considered getting down on his knees and kissing the ground you walked on. Though, when he saw you smirk, he knew he had done exactly what you had hoped he would do. 

“Fuck you.” He closed the distance, sighing when you innocently took a step back. 

“I’m trying to but I need to take my shoes off.” You pouted, pointing to your heel cladded feet in front of you, arms behind your back as you swayed from side to side. Yoongi shook his head before taking you into your arms and walking you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed. You fell back sitting down as Yoongi got down on his knees in front of you. 

“Are you punishing me?” He asked with a pout on his lips. 

You giggled placing both of your hands against his cheeks and squishing them. “Yes.” You affirmed kissing his lips, “I think you deserve it for leaving me.” You gave his cheeks a light tap. “Now get to work or I’ll kick you out.” 

Yoongi scoffed, placing your left foot on top of his knees. His fingers unbuckling the buckle around your ankle slowly, his eyes burning holes into your soul. You swallowed nervously as he slipped it off, his lips connecting with the skin of your ankle, kissing the tiny stick n poke tattoo he had given you after a particularly stressful week of finals, almost three years ago.

 It was crooked. The points of the star weren’t as perfect as he would’ve liked them to be. But it had been entirely your fault. You kept moving, yelping out in dramatized agony every time he poked the needle into your skin, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. He knew you were just doing it to scare him. Your pain tolerance was higher than any normal human being, which is why he continued his masterpiece, ignoring your pleas to stop. Nevertheless, with a childish pout you had expressed your love for it in more ways than one and vowed to never cover it up no matter what. 

You had kept true to your word. 

“I didn’t mean to.” He sighed, kissing your inner thigh, then moving to the other one. He had long removed your other heel and was now showering you with all the kisses he hadn’t been able to give you in the last year and a half.  “I didn’t want to break up with you.”

His hands traveled up the side of your legs, pushing your dress up further until the white lace of your panties were visible to his soft eyes. He bit his lip, taking in how much of an effect he still had on you. In all honesty, it made him feel on top of the world that your body was still so responsive to his touch. 

“Why did you?” Your voice wavered and you blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Though, you had agreed with his decision to break things off. It had hurt more than you had intended it to hurt. You were left dazed and confused wondering how he could just wake up one day and decide that you weren’t enough for him anymore. 

“You stopped chasing your dreams because of me.” The guilt he had felt every time he held you while you cried out in anger spilled out. The tears now fell down your eyes while he laid you down, taking your dress with him, bringing it over your head and throwing it to the side knocking over the glass of water you kept on your nightstand every night. 

You jumped hitting his chest, “That dress was expensive.” You sniffed and wrapped your arms around his neck, “you’re the biggest idiot I know, I hate you.” You said, burying your head into his chest, mascara staining his pristine white dress shirt, while you unbuttoned it.

 He knew you weren’t crying because of the dress, but this was also not what he meant when he wanted to have you crying tonight. You were right, he was an idiot. 

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, grabbing your head making you look at him. His own eyes were now filled with tears as he wiped away your own. “I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t happy.” He kissed your cheek then moved down to your neck, tonguing the spot underneath your ear that he knew would have you weak in your knees. “I-I wasn’t happy.” He confessed against your skin. 

He had never once said it out loud and now that he had, while you pushed his shirt off his shoulders, undressing him further,  he felt childish. “You could’ve just talked to me about it.” You sighed moving your hands down his chest, your manicured nails scraping his skin lightly. He shuddered, the coldness of your touch was something he had never been able to get used to. He had missed it. 

“I know.” He licked down your neck, his fingers playing with your bottom lip, taping it lightly. “I didn’t know how to approach the situation.” His eyes all but rolled back as you took his fingers into your mouth, moaning around his digits. Your mouth was so hot and wet. He wanted to be inside of it, fucking it until you were sputtering and crying tears of pleasure, his precum mixing with your saliva. But he decided he could wait to fulfill his fantasy, right now he needed to show you much he still loved and cared about you. 

Yoongi took his fingers out of your mouth, trailing his moist digits down your neck, painting a masterpiece until they wrapped around your nipples, pinching it, while his mouth kissed around your other nipple. The low sighs of pleasure you were making were astronomical. A beautiful melody he will never get tired of listening to. 

“S-So you decided to break up with me, f-fuck.” You gasped when he lightly bit down on your nipple. It was euphoric, enough to have you reaching your orgasm. You were overly sensitive, overwhelmed with the fact that he was so close to you again. 

“I thought we already agreed that I’m an idiot.” He joked and sat back on his knees, pushing your thighs apart with his hands. The only thing keeping you covered were your panties that were sticking onto you like a second skin and it was driving him insane. 

“Let me keep reminding you then.” You smirked and sat up on your elbows, lifting your hips from the bed to meet his. “Break my heart again and I’ll cut off your dick, and this time I sincerely mean it my love.” He shuddered, your menacing words filled with possibilities and hope. Hope that after tonight you and him could start over again. 

“Have I ever told you how much you actually scare me?” He tilted his head with curiosity, pushing your panties to the side. His mouth watering when he felt how truly wet you were for him. He wanted you in every single way possible. To drink you up like sweet honey dew juice. If he wasn’t so impatient he would’ve buried his face in between your legs, until you were cumming on his tongue. 

“Once or twice.” You lifted your hips as he slid your panties down your legs. He threw them to the side giving your hip a light kiss. “Maybe more than three times.” You gasped as he pushed two of his fingers inside of you. 

His eyes catching sight the other miniscule stick n poke tattoo he had given you after graduation. This time it was a beautiful cursive ‘y’ adorning the skin of your mound, the adrenaline along with the alcohol that was running through both of your veins that night, had numbed you out enough to have you lying still, giggling at his concentration instead of screaming out in pain. 

He moved his fingers, his cock aching to be freed from it’s constraints. He was so painfully hard, aching to be buried inside of you. “I think I told you more than that.” He curled his fingers, hitting the mushy spot inside of you making you gasp. 

“Yoongi, whatever, just please get inside of me before I kick you out.” You arched your back, lifting your hips as his fingers slowly teased you, opening you up for him. You hadn’t been fucked in such a long time. In fact, the last person you had sex with you was the one teasing you right now. 

He huffed rolling his eyes and took out his fingers. “Stop threatening me like that.” He said, bringing his fingers up to your mouth, painting your lips with your arousal. “It hurts my feelings.” 

“Then hurry up.” Your fingers reached over playing with the button of his pants, popping it open as you eyed him through lust filled hooded eyes, “We can play more another day, right now I need you inside of me before I die.” You pleaded. His eyes got wide, his mind ran faster than usual, making sure he had heard you right. 

Another time, you had said. He had heard you right. His hearing wasn’t as bad as he claims it to be, especially when it came to you and anything that leaves your mouth. He nodded and helped you push his pants along with his boxers down his legs. He kicked them away. A low moan escaped his lips when he felt your delicate hand wrap around his hard cock. Your thumb running over his red tip, spreading around the precum. 

“Do you have a condom?” He asked in a choked whisper as he tried his hardest not to cum in your hand. 

You shook your head no, a pout forming on your lips, “I don’t, I thought you would have one.” You kissed his chest lightly as you kept moving your hand around him. “I’m still on the pill though.” You pulled away and looked up at him giving him a knowing wink. 

He swallowed and pushed you softly, laying you down. “Honestly, I didn’t think this would ever happen again so I didn’t bring anything.” 

Your hand around him fell to your side as he climbed over you slowly. “Tell me if it hurts okay, I’ll stop.” He reassured before aligning himself up at your entrance. He ran the tip of his cock over your pussy gathering your essence before pushing himself in. 

“Y-Yoongi, oh my g-god, f-fuck.” You arched your back, digging your nails into the skin of his shoulders. You felt so deliciously good around him, your name falling out of his lips like a silent prayer. 

He buried his face into your neck, planting open mouthed down your neck, biting down lightly when he felt you clench around him. “Can I keep going?” He mumbled. “I need to feel all of you.” 

“Yes, please Yoongi please.” You gasped when you felt him bottoming out inside of you. The pleasure was mind numbing. Your pussy stretching over his cock after such a long time was otherworldly. 

His hands found yours and he intertwined your fingers with his, placing your arms above your head as he started thrusting into you slowly. His eyes burning into yours, refusing to let your gaze go.

Nothing was heard, except for skin slapping against skin. His low grunts combining with your loud moans as he fucked into you faster. The sound of your wet pussy motivating him to continue his ministries. Neither of you were sure how much time had passed, the only thing that mattered was the desperate chase of your highs. 

“Make me cum please.” You pleaded over and over again, as he pistoned his hips into you faster and harder. The knot forming against the pit of your stomach. You kept clenching around him and he knew you were close to the edge. He was too, he could feel the tightness of his balls as his thrusts became sloppy. 

“B-Baby, I’m close.” He bit down on your neck as you arched your back, your nipples brushing against his lightly. 

You dug your nails into his knuckles, raising your hips to meet his desperate thrusts. “Me too, I’m so close.” You gasped as he rolled his hips into yours. The change of rhythm had you screaming out in pleasure. 

He let go of one of your hands, not wasting a second in finding your swollen clit, rubbing fast circles against it with his thumb, “Gonna cum around me my angel, gonna let me paint your walls white.” He panted, his sweaty bangs falling over his eyes. He looked like a greek God, Adonis himself. 

“F-Fuck yes Yoongi, fuck I-I’m coming.” You choked out, the pressure at the pit of your stomach finally breaking. Your pussy fluttering around him, your orgasm taking over your body in pleasure filled spasms. 

Yoongi pushes into you harder, his thumb working against your clit as you ride out your high beneath him. Seeing you so fucked out was enough to tether over the edge, in a silent moan, his own orgasm taking over his body, painting your walls with his sticky substance, filling you up to the brink. “G-God, I love you.” He said after he had somewhat composed himself. 

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into your body. You didn’t want him to move yet, “I love you too Yoongi.” You whispered leaving innocent pecks against his jawline. He chuckled laying his head against your chest. You brushed his hair away from his face. Both of your chests heaving at the same time, as you tried to catch your breaths. 

“Was that okay?” He spoke after a long moment of silence. He rested his chin against your chest looking at you through worrisome eyes. “You don’t hate me anymore right?” 

“I never did.” You smiled, making his heart sore, “It was perfect, I missed you...a lot” You added kissing his nose. 

“I missed you too, maybe a little too much if I’m being honest. I really am sorry angel.” He cuddled into you further, feeling himself grow soft inside of you. You felt his arousal along with yours slide down your legs and you had to hold back from begging him to take you again and again. 

“I know just don’t do it again.” 

“I’d be actually crazy if I did.”

[pigeonp0st]

Hi :,) love your fics so so much and I have so many requests so you’ll be hearin from me a bit as long as your requests are open lol! Hope that’s ok❤️ I was wondering if you could write a Nat x reader fic where reader was kidnapped by hydra and tortured and the team finds her and bring her back to the tower but she’s different now she has powers and is extremely mentally scarred?

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #7

Words: 2,565

Warnings: Depression, trauma

Notes:

Thank you! I don’t mind at all, thank you for requesting and wanting to in the first place. I think this is my longest fic? Or at least one of...I did it fairly quickly though so sorry for any spelling mistakes and grammar errors.

———

Natasha is scared.

She is more scared than she has possibly ever been, and she’s reckless, and she’s determined, and she’s stupid.

But she finds you. She saves you, and everything else she’s come to regret about the ways she did it, and the way she handled it, doesn’t matter.

She pushes open about the fifteenth door she’s looked through and she sees you, trapped and bloody but alive, tied to a chair, and she’s so full of relief and happiness she doesn’t notice the new haunted look in your eyes.

She rushes towards you, feet pounding on concrete and uncaring of how loud she’s being, and feels tears rush to her eyes.

You’re okay. She saved you.

——-

Natasha is the last person to realize you’re not okay, but perhaps she’s the first to realize the depths of that truth.

She watches you, for the hundredth time since you returned two days ago, and the first ‘wrong’ thing she notices is the way your hand shakes around the spoon you’re eating with.

Then, a couple of hours later she realizes that you’ve hardly spoken.

She hates herself for not noticing sooner, but she has now so she tries to say something, not just about this but about all of the pieces of the broken image Natasha hadn’t allowed herself to see in the relief that she had felt after she had found you.

You’ve always been open and honest with her and she hadn’t thought there’d be a reason for that to change now, but when she asks and reaches out for you you jerk away so fast you almost fall off the bed.

“Don’t touch me, Natasha.”

You growl it out so venomously Natasha is momentary struck frozen. She wonders in the second before you speak again if she has done something wrong.

Then, you release a shaky sad breath and lower your head. “I’m...i’m sorry.”

Natasha says nothing, and so you leave.

—-

“Y/N...she’s not here.”

The mug of coffee Natasha’s holding drops from her hand and shatters violently on the ground. The room is deathly silent, with nothing but the beep from the finished microwave to fill the quiet, and Natasha see’s nothing but you tied and bloodied in the hydra base and hears nothing but the quiet and broken way you had told her you were a “monster now.”

And then she feels nothing but sorrow because this is her fault. She made you pull away, Natasha made you need space from the compound (she asked too many questions again earlier), but she also can’t let you have it.

She is scared again, and she hates how it’s becoming a regular feeling. She’s afraid you're going to get hurt again, so she can’t let you go. Not without her. Not yet.

“I’ll find her,” Natasha grits out, abandoning the glass on the floor and rushing to grab her keys from the kitchen cabinet. “If I don’t in an hour or two i’ll call so you guys can—” Natasha pauses, feeling stupid, “did you...did you call...or text?”

Wanda nods slowly, eyebrows furrowed together. “She answered.”

Everyone waits for Wanda to repeat what you had told her but she doesn’t. Not for a long enough moment that Natasha just considers leaving anyways.

It’s dark out, and it’s thundering, and you didn’t tell anyone you were leaving, so she’s worried. Natasha is worried.

“She said that she needed to escape for a couple of hours, to not come after her, to tell Natasha that she was still breathing.”

A pause. Natasha sets her keys back down.

“She said she was lost, and that she was tired.”

“Lost?” Natasha repeats, her heart stopping for a moment and then leaping into her throat.

“Mentally,” Wanda clarifies, huffing out a sigh.

But you said that you don’t want her to come looking for you, so with all of the will power Natasha can summon she stays, and she waits for you to come home.

——-

Lost, you had told Wanda, but can you be lost when you don’t even remember what you’re searching for anymore. When you don’t remember what it was like to feel ‘home.’

The rain pounds hard on your back, it soaks you wet and makes your clothes stick to your skin the way it did when they were soaked with blood, and it drowns out every noise that isn’t the beat of your heart and the downpour of rain

Hydra had experimented on you and tortured you, and you came out with nothing left of the old you and flames on your hand.

They gave you the power to control fire, to summon fire, to be resistant to it.

That’s what they gave but they took too much more.

The fire you’re supposed to master feels like it’s in you, like it’s burning you away bit by bit and leaving nothing but ashes in its wake, and you’re trying. You tried so hard. You tried to put it out, to stop the change, to reverse it, but you can’t. You can’t so you continue to burn and okay—that was manageable—but it wasn’t supposed to burn Natasha.

It wasn’t supposed to burn your friends.

They look at you now and they see it, Natasha is starting to see it, and you know, you know, you know, they can never love this new you. They will only ache for the loss of the past you—and you never meant to hurt them with change.

There is nothing you can do. All feels lost and hopeless, and you're helpless, so you sit in the rain and shiver with the cold seeping into your skin, and for the first time since you were kidnapped your heart and mind releases itself from the burden of its suffering.

For a moment, looking up at the sky, you’re the old you.

At peace.

——-

You walk into the living room, soaked and dripping water everywhere, and you see Natasha curled up on the couch sleeping.

It stops you in your tracks and has you looking around to check if anyone is there and then moving to crouch by her side to study her.

Even though it feels like every bit of you has changed the love you have for Natasha and the others is still the same. You hadn’t taken time to realize it but it’s such a great relief that you almost release a sob before you manage to bite it down.

The love you have for them is the same, they’re the same, the compound is the same.

As you think about the compound you glance around to see if it truly is the way it was and then you spot a shattered glass mug left on the floor.

It’s Nat’s favorite mug, you realize with a bit of sadness on her behalf.

It isn’t broken too terribly…it’s still recognizable, perhaps it can be pieced back together…

Like you. Maybe. If you still love the way you had, if you still have the memories that you had, maybe it’s enough to make your pieces recognizable enough to be pieced back together.

Or maybe it’s storming outside, and you're soaked to the bone feeling too poetic.

Thunder strikes outside and you jump so violently from both the sound and the images that flash through your head that you almost wake up Natasha.

God, you’re still so pathetic.

With an agonized sigh you push yourself up right again and try to remember where the Avengers keep the super glue.

——

Natasha wakes up slowly then abruptly when she remembers that you’re missing. Fuck, had you not come home last night, Nat wonders, are you hurt, did something happen—

“Y/N fixed your mug,” Clinton says from besides her on the couch, gesturing to the mug on the coffee table. Natasha settles back down. “She said that it probably can’t hold liquid in it anymore, but that if you want to test it and it breaks she’ll fix it again.”

“Where is she?” Natasha asks, ignoring the surge of warmth in her chest in favor of her worry. “Did she look okay?”

“In her room,” he answers, then winces, “or yours.”

“How is she?” Natasha repeats.

Clint thinks about it for a moment. “Physically? I think she’s coming down with a fever. Apparently she was out there in the rain for hours,” He sighs, running a hand through his short hair, “emotionally—”

But Natasha doesn’t let him finish before she’s jumping off the couch and rushing towards your room. You don’t go to hers anymore so when she doesn’t find you in yours she worries that you’ve run again...this time she really can’t let you go. Not while you’re sick.

She can’t—

There’s a note on your bed.

“Stop worrying. I’m in your bed...it’s more comfortable than mine.”

She wishes she could hate how much you know her.

———

When Natasha enters her room it’s to the sound of your raspy coughs and then an out of breath; “i’ve been expecting you.”

Natasha laughs unexpectedly and shakes her head at your ridiculousness. “You’re lighter than usual, despite circumstances,” she says quietly after her laughter dies down.

“Usual,” you repeat, the light in your eyes darkening in an instant. “Usual meaning the past week? Is my...is this me your new normal?”

Natasha doesn’t know what to say, and it seems to make you frustrated.

“You should expect more,” you tell her bitterly, “you should ask for more. You deserve more.”

Natasha steps forward and you physically jolt back. She stops. “You got tortured. What did they do to you?”

You shake your head, once, twice, “stop talking Nat. Stop.”

“You asked me to ask for more. You said I should.”

“I meant other things!” You shout angrily, fire in your eyes. Literally. “I meant you should expect more care, you deserve more than me avoiding you, you—”

“I just want to understand,” Natasha whispers, her shoulders dropping. “I don’t care about anything else, I don’t care if you need to avoid me to deal with things by yourself, but I feel like...like I'm lost too. Like I don’t understand the person I've always understood.”

“Natasha, I'm not ready for you to know me,” you whisper, the weight of her words and your sorrow wrapped around your throat and squeezing out secrets you’d rather keep in.

“You’re not a different person.”

“Yes I am.”

“Hold out your hand.”

You blink at her in shock and confusion but do as you're told. Natasha moves towards you, strides towards you, and you try not to wince, you try not to let the sound of her footsteps bring you to places you’d rather not be.

Her hand reaches for you, you close your eyes—expecting pain because it’s all you ever knew in your haunting week with Hydra—and when you open them again it’s because Natasha has interlaced your fingers.

Her hand...her hand looks the same against yours. It feels the same. She’s touched you since you’ve been back but you were too busy trying not to move away to remember that this used to be the only thing you wanted back when she was just a crush. To hold her hand...then when she became your girlfriend it was a comfort that you thought you’d always seek.

“Is your favorite color still the same?” Natasha asks, voice strong and almost as intense as her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Is your favorite song the same, is your favorite movie the same, is your—”

“All of those things don’t make me who I am,” you stutter, unable to hold her eyes. Where Natasha is strong you are weak. Her strength is the sun, and yours is just a dying light bulb.

“They’re small but they matter,” Natasha insists, looking at you so softly you wonder what she sees.

“Are you still trying?” She asks quietly, “do you still care too much?”

“Yes.”

“You’re in pain,” Natasha notes, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and despising the world for the things it’s done to you when you wince. “You’re scared, traumatized, you leave the room when people are being too loud, you constantly look around, you don’t like people being too close,” she stops, tilting her head. “Care to add?”

“I’m...tired. I don’t even want to get up in the morning for fear of what I'll face through the day—just while doing mundane things. I'm so weak it makes me furious.”

Natasha nods, closing her eyes, “you need to run sometimes, you try so hard to look okay around the others sometimes your jaw physically shakes with the effort, you’re hesitant in everything you do now—”

“Okay.” You cut her off, words shaky. “I get it.”

“I love you. Not loved. I love you. I loved you two weeks ago, before all of this, and I love you in this second just the same,” she cups your cheek and you don’t wince. “I hurt for you. I want to know what you’ve been through, I want you to open up to me, but you’re still Y/N, aren’t you? You’re still the woman I fell in love with.”

“Why are you so sure of that?” You ask, eyes watering.

“You fixed my mug,” Natasha says, breathing out a short huff of laughter. “Thank you.”

“You loved it, Nat.”

“You hated it.”

And okay. “I need time,” you whisper, “time to process and then slowly maybe I can…maybe I can heal.”

With all of the certainty in the world Natasha says; “you will”, and you believe her. “And if you need time then you have it.” She moves to step back, to drop her hand, but you don’t let her.

You grasp her hand where it is on your cheek and with your eyes you beg her to stay, and then you do with your voice too; “not from you. Just please don’t ask me questions about what happened yet. Can we just…” you sigh, glancing down. “Can we just exist together?”

Natasha looks at you, really looks at you, and she sees how vulnerable you are in this moment, how strong, She sees it in the way your hand shakes against her, in the way—

“Say something,” you beg, exasperated, “please.”

“I’m sorry,” Natasha says, chuckling at the glare you give her. “I just love you so much sometimes I need a moment,” and then, she says, easily like there is no other option, like she would want nothing else, “Of course i’ll stay.”

And the sorrow wrapped around your throat like a rope only getting tighter, and the trauma burning away at your insides like an imperishable flame, and the anxiety like boulders on your shoulder only keeping you down, it all goes away.

For a moment, you suspect, just like when you were outside in the rain, but the fact that you can feel this way here, with another person in the room this close to you, with nothing there to drown everything out, it gives you hope.

It’s the first time you’ve seen the light in the darkness, but you think that maybe it was always there.

“Thank you, Natasha. For everything.”

She smiles, softly and full of love. “Thank you for everything, too,” and what she’s really saying is; “thank you for giving me you.”

——

For Part 2 click here

(Takes place about a month later)

[page-doctor-bekker]

Human Error (transfemme!sarah)

(A/N) this really doesn’t actually have anything to do with sarah being trans, it just takes place in the same universe. this is literally just an event that happened in this au written out so i can write about effects surrounding it without people being confused lol.

-

-

“Reese, we’re slammed, any chance you can take treatment four?” Maggie pointed at Sarah Reese, and then at the fourth treatment room. Sarah looked up from the computer, before grabbing her tablet and heading to the treatment room.

“Hi, Mr. Nearling? I’m Dr. Reese, what seems to be the issue today?” Sarah pushed for hand sanitizer, rubbing her already-dry hands together until the gel had absorbed.

“Trouble breathing…” The man took a few labored breaths, “Cold sweat… I’m shaking, I can’t breathe-”

“Okay, I see, when did this start? Does your chest hurt at all?”

“I… I had a big meeting today and it just happened suddenly. I guess it hurts a little bit.”

“Can I take a listen to your heart?” Sarah asked, already taking her stethoscope off of her neck. The man nodded, and she pressed the drum to his chest. His heart was racing.

He started talking fast, “Are you going to be able to give me a doctor’s note? I’m going to lose my job…” He started breathing faster.

“Has this ever happened before?” Sarah asked, lifting the stethoscope from the man’s chest, “Any history of anxiety or panic disorders?”

“Never like this,” He choked up and coughed a bit, “But, I had social anxiety as a kid.”

“Do you have any family history of cardiovascular disease, diabetes, or high blood pressure? Do you smoke, drink?”

“No, none of that,” The man waved his hands, “I’m a healthy guy. A vegetarian, everything- everything is fine! I’m perfect, I can’t-”

“Mr. Nearling-” He was hyperventilating, and Sarah grabbed one of his hands, “Mr. Nearling, I think you’re having an anxiety attack,” Dr. Reese let go of his hand, and hung her stethoscope back around her neck, and tapped on her iPad, “I’m going to give you something to calm you down, then we can talk about coping strategies and I will refer you to outpatient psychiatry to continue care. April, push 1.5 milligrams of Ativan.”

April pushed the medication through the patient’s IV line, and Dr. Reese pulled up a round, spinning stool to the bed and sat down. April nodded at the doctor, and left the room, pulling the curtain shut.

Mr. Nearling calmed down noticeably, which Dr. Reese took as a success - Panic attack subsided. Dr. Reese smiled, “It’s normal to have some residual physical symptoms, mild tightness, shortness of breath, but as the medication works you’ll calm down more and more. Have you ever had a panic attack before?”

Mr. Nearling shrugged, “Maybe? I’ve never gone to the hospital for it.”

“After a severe panic attack you may have more panic attacks in the coming days or weeks, so I’m going to call in a mild benzodiazepine in case you need a bit of help,” Dr. Reese typed that into the tablet, “When you feel the anxiety and panic start up, you definitely want to try coping mechanisms before you take medication for it. The medication is just for if those coping mechanisms don’t work, which sometimes happens and is to be expected every once in a while.”

Mr. Nearling nodded, taking a deep breath. It was shaky going out, but residual anxiety can do that.

“So, a good first step, whenever you’re having a panic attack, is to recognize that you’re having a panic attack. If it doesn’t work to say it in your head, say it out loud,” Dr. Reese tapped the tablet against her leg with each coming syllable for emphasis, “I am having a panic attack.”

“I am having a panic attack.”

And just like that, it was no longer a panic attack. Mr. Nearling went limp, and the monitors started going crazy. Dr. Reese held two fingers to the man’s neck, and yelled out, “I need a crash cart!”

Everything moved fast after that. Sarah was pushed out of the way by two ED doctors, who started barking out orders.

“He’s in cardiac arrest, page CT. Reese, get on his chest-”

Sarah could feel blood pounding in her ears, and she clasped one hand over the other and started humming. Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive. Stayin’ alive. Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive… No matter how much CPR she performed, she still needed the song to keep her on beat.

“-Milligram of Epi.”

Ah, ha, ha, ha…

“Hold compressions,” Dr. Choi barked, holding two fingers to the man’s neck, “Clear!”

The man’s chest lurched as he was shocked, and Sarah’s heart jumped into her throat. Dr. Choi held his fingers back to the man’s neck, “Another milligram of Epi. Charge to 200.”

Sarah resumed compressions. Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’...

“Clear!”

Sarah held her hands up, shaking. This never got easier.

“Asystole,” April sighed out, preparing another milligram of Epi. She knew exactly what Dr. Choi was going to ask for next.

“Another milligram of Epi.”

Sarah reached to resume compressions, but Dr. Choi swatted her hands out of the way and did CPR himself. Dr. Choi did it slightly faster than Sarah did. He knew the man was dead.

Sarah squeezed her clammy hands together, shaking like a leaf.

Dr. Bekker rushed in almost immediately after Dr. Choi stopped compressions, and was floored when Choi called time of death.

“Alright, why wasn’t this patient taken to the cath lab as soon as his heart attack was diagnosed?” Ava’s tone was stone cold.

Everyone looked at Sarah.

“He uh… He presented with…” She cleared her throat, “With shortness of breath, mild chest pain, cold sweat, shakiness, and extreme anxiety as well as a positive history for social anxiety. He did not-” She cracked her knuckles, “Um… He also displayed signs of work-related stress and no- Uh, no risk factors for heart attack. I determined he was having a panic attack and ordered 1.5 milligrams of Ativan and started talking about coping strategies with him.”

“Whenever a patient shows up with chest pains they should receive a FULL cardiac workup REGARDLESS of history and risk factors,” Dr. Bekker took a step towards Sarah, and grew louder, “If YOU were in the emergency room with CHEST PAIN, would you be anxious?!”

“I- uh-”

“You did NOTHING you should have. ANXIETY is NOT a contraindication for a heart attack, and now this man is dead. Leaving him to die in the waiting room would be more effective,” She spat out, her tone venomous, “Psych residents, I swear. God, isn’t anyone in this hospital competent?”

Sarah was out of the room before she even knew she was moving. Her feet dragged her away and her heart was practically leaping out of her chest. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and she started chewing on her tongue to avoid letting them go. She clenched her fists as Dr. Charles called her name.

“Dr. Reese! I was paged to the ED, something about you?”

“I need to use the bathroom,” She pushed past him, and he grabbed her arm.

“Sarah,” He whispered, “Go sit in my office when you’re done. I’m going to finish rounds. We’ll talk when I’m done,” He started to walk away, before turning around, “You’re not in trouble, Sarah, I just want to understand what happened.”

Sarah pushed open the swinging door to the women’s bathroom, bolted into the nearest stall and slammed the door shut. She sat down and started sobbing.

I’m in love with her.

She choked on her own snot, and ripped off a piece of toilet paper to blow her nose.

I’m in love with her, and she hates me.

She let out a wail.

i’m in love with her, she hates me, and I failed her.

The bathroom door opened.

“Sarah?”

Sarah held her breath, pulled her knees up to her chest to avoid making any noise.

“I don’t think she’s in here,” Sarah heard April, a gentle voice amongst the madness.

Sarah heard a pager beep.

“Ugh, I have a heart transplant. Whatever, send a note to Dr. Charles and let him know I was looking for her.”

She wants to yell at me some more. She wants to hurt me. She somehow knows about me and I’m going to get fired. I’m going to get fired and be all alone. She knows about me and she’s going to hurt me and I’m going to get fired.

They left, and Sarah let out her breath and let her feet fall to the floor. She blew her nose again, and took a deep, shaking breath. She stood up, and leaned her forehead against the stall door. She took her hair down from it’s low ponytail, and shook it out. She grabbed a piece of her hair and started absentmindedly braiding it - an old anxious habit.

A few minutes and three braids later, she opened the stall door and stared into the mirror in front of her. She wiped away her tears, approached the sink, and splashed water on her face, soaking one of her messy braids in the process. She dried with a thin paper towel, took another shaky, deep breath. She grabbed a helping of hand sanitizer on her way out of the bathroom. Force of habit. Even leaving her bedroom at home she sometimes tries to push the sanitizer button, even though it isn’t there.

Sarah practically ran to Dr. Charles’s office, hurriedly taking her braids out and running her hands through her tangled hair.

She unlocked Dr. Charles’s office door with her key, and closed the door behind her. She did not turn the lights on. Instead, she made a beeline for the couch. There was a throw blanket stored under one of the cushions, and she pulled it over her after grabbing it. She covered her face with a pillow, and screamed into it.

“Sarah?”

She forcefully uncovered her face, before relaxing once she saw it was just Daniel.

“Sarah,” He inquired, sitting down at his desk, “What happened today?”

Sarah sniffled, “I misdiagnosed a heart attack as a panic attack,” She choked out, “Mid-30s male presenting with shortness of breath, mild chest pain, cold sweat, anxiety, healthy weight, vegetarian, panicking with a history of social anxiety, currently experiencing work-related stress, no family history of heart disease, nothing.”

Dr. Charles sighed, “Common mistake. Hardly something to have a-”

“He died, Dr. Charles,” She cried, “He’s dead.”

Dr. Charles’s face hardened, “I see,” He faltered.

“And- And Ava, God, Ava…” She pressed her hand to her forehead, “She yelled at me in the middle of the ED, and she said I was incompetent and-” She choked out a sob, “She hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you, Sarah,” Dr. Charles’s tone softened, “She’s just… She’s just angry. She won’t be angry forever.”

“I just really messed up today,” Sarah swiped her tears away with trembling hands.

“You did,” Dr. Charles agreed, “You did mess up today, but-”

“I’m going to get sued-”

“Sarah.”

“I’m going to lose my residency and I don’t have a fallback plan, I’m in so much debt and so much trouble-”

“Sarah, you’re not going to lose your residency,” Dr. Charles yelled, and Sarah fell silent. He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry for yelling at you, but you’re not going to lose your residency. Every single doctor has a misdiagnosis in their career, it’s just part of the job.”

“But he died. And it’s my fault.”

“Sarah, you are going to lose patients. And sometimes it’s going to be your fault,” He reasoned, “You’re a good doctor, Sarah, you’re a good doctor who made a mistake. You want to know what happened during my residency? I diagnosed a teenage girl experiencing vomiting and lack of appetite with bulimia,” He raised his eyebrows at Sarah, “She died of malnutrition. Autopsy showed she had ulcers all along her digestive tract,” He shrugged, “She was in too much pain to eat! But all I saw was a sickly thin teenage girl that was vomiting and couldn’t eat.”

Sarah stayed quiet.

“The point is, things happen. Death happens. Sometimes, conditions disguise as one another. Medicine is hardly ever an exact science,” Dr. Charles pointed out, “Human error is expected, you’re not going to get fired, and you’re probably not going to get sued. Mr. Nearling presented with no typical risk factors of a heart attack, and all the typical risk factors and symptoms of a panic attack. Did you purposefully ignore Mr. Nearling’s heart attack?”

Sarah shook her head.

“Boom,” Dr. Charles threw his hands up in front of him, “You had no malicious intent. You made a mistake, a common mistake, on a patient that didn’t present typically, and it had consequences.”

Sarah nodded.

Dr. Charles sighed, and looked at Sarah with a look of sympathy, “And now it will never happen again, right?”

She nodded.

“You’re going to take complaints with these symptoms more seriously?”

She nodded.

“You’re not a bad doctor, Sarah, you’re just a human,” He said, “In med school they always teach you what someone who has a heart attack looks like, just like they taught me what someone who has an eating disorder looks like. You just have to learn to get past that phenotype and look deeper.”

Sarah stayed quiet.

“Look... This is hard. I get it,” Dr. Charles sighed, “Just... go home, Sarah. Take a breather.”

“What?”

“Go home. Come back in a few days. Take a break.”

“Yes sir,�� She said, quietly, before standing up to leave.

-

-

(A/N) thanks for reading :) i’m going to build on this at some point and write a follow-up to this one shot. hope you enjoyed! this is a foundation for the parts i want to write, so it doesn’t have too much about sarah’s actual transition. i am so sorry for making ava be mean :(( EDIT: If you liked this, check this out bc I am continuing it!

[galacticlamps]

im sorry im sorry im sorry i know it’s been well over a year but i accidentally thought about Short Trips: Deleted Scenes (again) and it’s killing me (again) so i think im just gonna go ahead and post all these stupid thoughts that have been plaguing me about it since i first heard it & maybe that’ll help clear up some space in my head for like, real life things.

Spoilers I guess? It’s like a year and a half old but also high key the most recent 2nd doctor content i believe we’ve gotten which is like, the only negative thing I can say about it

The TLDR version is this:

I literally cant believe how sweet it is? Painful, but sweet. Like. I don’t honestly know what’s more likely - did they set out to write Jamie a nice little straight love interest and just fail miserably at it by constantly likening her to the Doctor AND paralleling the Doctor’s perspective with her ex’s AND putting Jamie’s relationships with both of them in direct tension with each other while constantly letting his with the Doctor win out?

OR - did they do a very 1960s thing and say hey we’re gonna write what’s essentially a story about how much Jamie and the Doctor love each other and release it on Valentine’s Day thinly disguised as a one-off romance with a french lady?

Now, as a general rule, my attitude toward questions like that is usually “don’t know, don’t care, doesn’t matter” - and while I 100% stand by that, I also have to admit that this particular audio seems to pay enough attention to detail that I’d kind of think I was selling it short if I assumed too many of these things were just meaningless coincidences, you know?

Anyway, that’s the most coherent/overarching thought. And here’s a disorganized list of things I absolutely cannot get over about it (they don’t form any kind of argument, mind, they just all happen to live rent free in my head):

- Celine is first taken in by Jamie being an idiot (specifically him claiming not to speak French, in perfect French); likewise, her entrance in the scene where they actually kiss is marked with a little anecdote about her hat getting stuck on a doornail and her scolding it as she attempts to fix her un-tameable appearance, and the narration says Celine “would often clown for Jamie like this” - all of which, while undeniably adorable, don’t exactly strike me as entirely original traits to have been assigned to Jamie’s love-interest (but also Celine is so cool and her perspective on film/media/time is an excellent addition to the long list of dr who characters)

- When they’re in the present, describing Jamie’s relationship with Celine in 1908, they call him her “companion” and highlight his going nearly everywhere with her, which earns a laugh from the 4th doctor (and me as well, though probably for slightly different reasons - but like, is that really all it takes to have a fling with someone in 60′s era who? bc if so...)

- Celine’s ex-fiance is still in love with her and is jealously watching when she kisses Jamie ... and then the Doctor appears beside him, evidently doing the exact. same. thing. They have the following conversation:

“You know, it’s not prudent to spy on people. But then, people in pain can’t be expected to act prudently.”

“Pain, monsieur? You mistake me.”

“Ah, do I? Good, because I rather thought you’d lost something.”

“What would you know about loss monsieur?”

- I’m sorry doc but who do you think you are, saying stuff like that and smiling sadly at the floor to boot? I 100% had to pause it here the first time I listened, just to not throw my laptop across the room. 

- Then when I recovered continued, the Doctor closes the door so they can’t watch anymore and explains “Possessing things comes so terribly easily to some men that losing them can feel cruel, intolerably cruel. In my experience, only the very best of men cannot be tempted to answer that cruelty with more - I do sincerely hope that you are the best of men.” (guess who gets described as the best of men by the end of the audio?)

- Jamie and the Doctor apparently develop a habit of walking along the river in Paris in silence

- During one such walk, Jamie suggests Celine come with them since she already figured out about the Tardis - and when the Doctor’s worried by this, he says he only allowed Jamie & Celine to grow closer “because of Victoria.” Jamie takes offense at the ‘allowing it’ comment and also refuses to admit he knows what the Doctor means about Victoria, which leads the Doctor to say that he knows how fond Jamie was of her - he was too, of course, but with him, “it was different, wasn’t it?” Jamie only says maybe that’s true and maybe that’s not, but his voice catches until he changes the subject

- Jamie doesn’t see Celine for days both times that she’s recovering from the shock and depression of her work being destroyed. In contrast, when the Doctor’s not well, Jamie’s "afraid” and “guilty” and hardly seems to leave his side at all, if his being there “rushing to embrace him” the second he wakes up - after a period Jamie describes as “at least a week” - is anything to go by, anyway. so either bf writers need to learn how to write a committed straight relationship or admit that’s not what they ever intended in the first place

- Oh yeah, and the Doctor spends that week "asleep” in Jamie’s bedroom - no, there’s no explanation as to if that’s where he was when he first collapsed or if it’s where Jamie decided to take him bc why would they feel the need to explain him being there? why was it even relevant to tell us it was Jamie’s room in the first place?

- The Doctor somehow manages to control the Tardis enough to take Celine on one trip to an alien planet and then return to the correct time & place for her to use the footage she recorded there in her new film - and while the audio doesn’t do very much to explain how that was possible, it does treat this as A Pretty Big Deal, and immediately afterward the Doctor has to spend a week communing with his past self (and/or the Tardis?) debating how likely it is that the Time Lords could use this to trace him. When he decides it’s not worth the risk and they have to stop the film from ever being shown to the public, Jamie asks why he agreed to it in the first place, and all he can say is “Because, Jamie, you asked me to!” earning awkward stares from the crowd.

- Oh, but, lest we forget, that little outburst is also immediately followed by him putting his arm around Jamie’s shoulders, and, shockingly, apparently beginning to actually explain the truth about the danger from the Time Lords - until they’re interrupted, of course idk why exactly but the idea of a 60s dr wanting to come clean with a companion but not being allowed to bc the show demands the war games be something of a reveal hurts me in a very good way

- The mental image of “the Doctor and Jamie, resplendent in borrowed evening wear”

- The audio admitting that Jamie’s not very good at subterfuge, and the Doctor asking if he’s going to be alright with them having to steal the film back from Celine - and Jamie’s little “Aye, Doctor” as he feels a ‘glass arrow piercing his chest’ glad to see bf is reading all my letters about exactly how i feel any time something sad happens to james robert mccrimmon

- The Doctor’s anxious to get out of there for obvious reasons, but he hangs around bc Jamie wants to see Celine again - which doesn’t happen, because of her aforementioned shock & depression, but she does leave Jamie a note that ends “you and that Doctor of yours - look after him Jamie, he loves you dearly, as do I.” yeah, if you didn’t want people to draw a parallel there, you could’ve picked, like, any other wording in the world.

- In case you weren’t fully convinced I’ve been reading too much into this whole audio already, consider this: Celine dies in Long Island in 1968, three days before her birthday - 1968 is when this story would’ve taken place in the show’s history (between Fury & Wheel), and dying three days before/after a birthday in America seems a bit... well I had some deja vu from it, anyway

- Four of all people being the one to bring back the film - I know he does it bc Sarah Jane makes him, but personally, I often feel like despite the length of his run, 4 is the Doctor with which we might’ve gotten the fewest glimpses into his interiority, so the fact that it’s him and not one of the more overtly sentimental Doctors makes it feel like it carries even more weight somehow, to me anyway. I think I wrote a post saying roughly the same thing about 4 & Fate of Krelos/Return to Telos but maybe I only did that inside my own head lol. Still, I’m all for any opportunities for Jamie to be one of the few characters to draw some noticeable emotion out of Four, but in fairness I haven’t touched too much of his EU stuff to really be able to compare the frequency with which this happens with other past companions

- Is Four referring to Two or Jamie when he says he got the film from “an old family friend”? Two did the actual stealing, but he probably means Jamie’s involvement - either way, it’s an interesting way of describing old companions - or selves?

- When Jemima goes to call Jamie a thief, Four is “roused” to defend him: “he really was the very best of men” again, any time four freely shows he cares about someone, im over the moon about it

- Oh ha ha, there’s an audio called “Deleted Scenes” featuring the Doctor who’s most affected by junked episodes. And at the end of it, a character who’s spent her life researching and lecturing about a lost film gets to watch it be ‘rediscovered’ after it’s gone unseen for decades. I feel marginally less stupid for reading into the other details of a story like this when it ends up deciding to be to be clever & slightly meta like that

But yeah

all in all, it’s kind of amazing to me that this genuinely reads like they sat down and said okay boys it’s valentines day, let’s write an audio where jamie kisses a girl, since that hasn’t happened except as a plot device in one story in 1967 - but then when they got down to business they accidentally(?) wrote a story all about how important his bond with the Doctor is and how easily that can be compared to a legitimate love interest (even if the love interest in question is a one off character & the extent of the relationship appears to be like one kiss & then having Jamie spend most of his time around the Doctor instead)

I realize there’s something slightly illogical about writing the words “shipping aside” after a post like this but seriously - no matter how many categories you’re able to see two & jamie’s relationship fitting into, this is 40 minutes of big finish just hitting you over the head with how powerful/special/important that relationship is, and with them being two of my favorite characters, i really haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since

[themonotonysyndrome]

Hey i just want to know that if you still make headcanon holy quintet in twst series , if you not is okay ,but if you still make , i have several question ,

What if madoka transform to madokami i want to know boys reaction especially diasmonia boys ?

I want to know what if sayaka got corrupt and the boys reaction(especially adeuce) see witch form sayaka for first time and their think sayaka got overblot but they wrong it worst than that!

I want to know that what boys reaction if they see the witchs and Walpurgisnacht for the first time are they gonna fight or not?

What all boys(especially dorm leaders)reaction homura tell the truth of soul gem and she tell how she looping time to time for 12 years and 100 looping

And btw i am boy its weird boy love twisted wonderland(not really but i love the character design and story(i just hate riddle mom treat him to obey all rules, he need freedom:( ))

Sorry for making many question

Hello! I’m happy that you enjoyed the TWST x PMMM series! Most of my writing projects have taken a back seat due to work and since it’s currently the Ramadan season, I just don’t have a lot of energy to write anymore more than for work. I mean, it took me half a day to answer this ask. 

I definitely want to get back to writing for this crossover series and maybe even copied what I’ve written so far into my AO3 for easy reading and navigating but we’ll see. For now, I’m indulging whatever plot bunnies that come my way so I won’t stop writing altogether. 

So lay them on me, dude! Expanding the series is always fun. (Also, bear with me. This is gonna be a long post). 

@lionheartanotheraccount and I had discussed these actually on Discord! Some were pinned, some were not (I’m an idiot. I should have pinned all of our crossover texts!), so lemme explain what I still remember. Feel free to pinch in if I forgot something incorrectly or left something out, Lion! 

1. What if Madoka transforms to MadoKAMI, I want to know boys’ reaction, especially Diasmonia’s boys

After the anime ended, Lion and I talked about how not that she’s a Goddess, she has the ability to visit Twisted Wonderland on her own and she approached Malleus and the rest of the Diasomnia gang in her human disguise so as not to freak them out. Well, Lilia and Malleus could feel the divinity within Madoka and you can expect the immense shock that not only could Madoka travel across worlds, but she’s also no longer human too. It’s a teary reunion and Malleus’ and Lilia’s hearts break when MadoKAMI explain everything. They comforted her to their best ability but ultimately, it’s been done. There’s nothing else they could do for her. It’s bittersweet for Lilia. Why, a human child ascended into a Goddess so she could save the fates of her friends and every Magical Girls in the past, present and future - she grew up out of necessity and love. Both Lilia and Malleus is proud to be her friend. 

2.  I want to know what if Sayaka got corrupt and the boys’ reaction(especially Adeuce) see Witch form Sayaka for the first time and they think Sayaka got Overblot but they wrong it worst than that!

The existence of a Witch’s Labyrinth is enough to make the boys instantly wary and a bit frighten (not that any of them would admit it). Bad times for everyone. The boys so confused, wanting to help Sayaka. The girls are horrified at the truth of Witches and Magical Girls and Homura is rushing in to kill Sayaka. Chaos everywhere with Octavie shrieking and trying to kill them all, Symposium Magarum blaring in the background and the Witch’s familiars flying everywhere to make sure their Witch could enjoy the music. 

No one could fight Octavia so they had to retreat. Homura causing enough distraction for them to escape. By the time they went out of the Labyrinth, shouting and screams begin. 

Adeuce would the most horrified, Madoka of course, heartbroken. Mami is losing it (to which Homura’s getting trigger happy and refused to look away from her. She’s ready to put Mami out of her misery the moment Mami so much as flinch) and Sayaka is both furious and still in shock. At this point, Homura has no choice but to reveal the fact she knows the truth about Magical Girls in order to explain that no, they don’t Overblot. They... mature into Witches when their Soul Gems turn pitch black. Here’s a little gem(lol) from explorerofsy on Discord:  vil internally: mami is a gem 

vil later when he finds out about soul gems: 

when i said that mami is a gem, i did not expect that to be literal

It’s sad but it made me laugh sick. 

3. I want to know that what boys’ reaction if they see the Witches and Walpurgisnacht for the first time. Are they gonna fight or not?

The moment Homura explains that turning to Witches is irreversible and is the ultimate fate of all Magical Girls, some would deny it. Their magic is different from the girls, maybe they have a way to stop the transformation here in Twisted Wonderland. The academically-inclined students (Malleus, Riddle, Jamil, Vil and even Idia) would delve into hours of research, only to find nothing (I mean, Kyubey is akin to an Eldritch being, something beyond their comprehension so how on Twisted Wonderland would they push their magic against his strange abilities?). The other students are keeping a very close eye on the girls’ Soul Gems. I mentioned in a long-ago post that even Lilia would demand Madoka present her Soul Gem to him for inspection once every week since Madoka is still distraught over what happened to Sayaka. 

Will the boys fight the Witches? Well, in terms of Octavia, the Heartslabyul boys will struggle to kill her, even after Homura explains that the Witch is no longer Sayaka and it’s better to put her out of her despair and give her Grief Seed to Madoka (though Madoka would let Adeuce keep Octavia’s Grief Seed; it’s the only thing the boys have left of Sayaka after all. Madoka at least have years worth of memories of them together). 

In terms of Walpurgisnacht, Homura would debrief the girls and boys the strongest Witch to ever exist (Keeping Kriemhild Gretchen to herself. For now. She really, really doesn’t want to open that horrible can of worms) and showed them just how powerful and destructive she can be using her magic. Malleus would be intrigued in fighting her though. 

4. What would the boys’ (especially dorm leaders) reaction be when Homura tell the truth of Soul Gems and she tells how she looping time to time for 12 years and 100 looping

Characters like Leona, Lilia and Malleus would be shocked stupid. Time magic is already an insanely OP power and Homura, a human child, been abusing and looping time just to find a way to kill Walpurgisnacht? Leona will straight up spit out that Homura’s insane and Lilia will silently agree with him, wondering if Homura has gone mad. Malleus couldn’t help but applaud Homura’s will and her careful planning in making sure her Soul Gem remains pure. Kalim will cry for her; he couldn’t imagine what sort of pain Homura purposely gone through just to save her friends (cue Homura’s awkwardly patting him on the back, telling him not to cry because she made her choices) 

5. And btw i am boy its weird boy love twisted wonderland(not really but i love the character design and story(i just hate riddle mom treat him to obey all rules, he need freedom:( ))

It’s cool! Twisted Wonderland and its fandom are some of the very few fandoms I really enjoy. But then again, I tend to keep to myself and some close friends so I don’t really see the dramas. And you’re right, the story and characters’ design are what hooked me in. I was introduced to Twisted Wonderland when I saw a fanart of a little Azul holding hands with Floyd and Jade, looking disgruntled at being treated like a kid while the Tweels just smirk. That’s why Azul and the Tweels will always be my favourite in the fandom!

Yeah... when you think about it, most of the characters have unhealthy relationships with their family. Riddle with his Mum, Leona with his status and brother, Azul with his childhood bullying, and while we don’t know what exactly happen with King and Queen Draconia, Malleus probably knew them for only a short time (hell, they could even pass away before he was hatched). 

[hyuniebaby]

Pink Carnations

Pairings: Sehun x Y/N

Genre: angst

One shot. Y/N is sick but I can’t say what her sickness is... 🤐

A/N: I’ve had this idea for a while but I didn’t expect it to be this long. Honestly, I wished I could’ve made this shorter but I got too lazy to edit some parts... I didn’t want to write the death part so I cut that part out. I also want to take this time to applaud fanfic writers for dedicating so much thought and time to write their pieces. I almost gave up halfway because it got too long. I honestly think my max words when writing is 2k LOL 😅 Anyway I hope you enjoy this!

You were lying on your towel wearing your two piece bathing suit while you closed your eyes. It was summer and what perfect way to spend the day than to lounge under the sun after a tiring week, right?

It was perfect until your peace and quiet was disturbed by someone plopping down beside you. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know who it was. You know his faint but distinct smell.

“You know, if you just wanted to sleep, you could’ve just stayed at home and did that on the comfort of your bed,” Sehun says.

Without opening your eyes, you answer, “But there’s something different with the air at the beach! Plus, the sound of the waves calm me down.” There was a soft smile on your face. It was evident you were content right now.

When Sehun didn’t answer, you opened your eyes and peeked at him. He was staring right at you. He was looking at you intently as if you had the answer to the poverty problems of the world. You couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat because of his gaze.

You were about to say something when you both hear a girl shrieking. Both of you had trailed your eyes to the source of the sound. One of the girls playing beach volleyball landed on the wrong foot and she was cradling her foot in agony. Sehun was quick to approach and lend her a helping hand.

The sight made your heart swell with pride. You were proud of your best friend for having the sweetest heart. He was always willing to help anyone in need. You were extremely happy to have a best friend like him.

He offered helping the girl walk back to their cottage. At first the girl was leaning on Sehun while she was limping. But after a few steps, Sehun suddenly carried the girl bridal style. You knew he was just helping the girl, but the sight left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You frowned. Why were you feeling this way? Sure, you had this small crush on Sehun. He was sweet, nice, and attractive. But it was just that, just a crush. You didn’t allow it to bloom into something different because, well, he was your best friend and you knew he didn’t feel the same. It doesn’t bother you though, because, again, it’s just a crush.

Even when he had been in and out of relationships, you never felt jealous or bitter. You were always supportive in his love affairs. So why were you suddenly feeling this way? She was just a stranger on the beach who needed help. There’s literally no reason to feel jealous.

You clear the frown on your face when you see Sehun jog back to you after carrying the injured girl. You give him a smile instead. He goes back to his previous sitting position.

“You’re such a gentleman,” You coo while pinching his cheeks.

He immediately leans away and groans. “I would’ve done the same if it happened to you, dumbass.”

And there it was again, your heart was skipping a beat. Usually Sehun would just answer sassily when you tease him but every now and then he’d say something that would make your heart flutter.

You feel your blood rushing to your cheeks. Instead of acknowledging what he said, you mutter, “I’m not a dumbass!”

He snickers at your reaction. You scowl at him, ready to give him a punch but you stopped your movement when a female interrupted your bickering. “Uhm, excuse me.”

You both look up at the lady.

She faced Sehun. “I’m a friend of Anne, the girl you helped earlier. She wanted to give you this,” She hands a letter to Sehun. Sehun just smiles and the woman took it as a cue to leave. She goes back to their group of friends.

You watch Sehun as he opens the folded paper. You wanted to peek into it so badly but you respected Sehun’s privacy so instead of looking at the paper, you observe Sehun’s face. His curious look was replaced by a smile. He momentarily looks back at where Anne was. She didn’t notice the act since she was surrounded by her worried friends.

Sehun looks back at you and grins. “Come on, let’s get you home. You’re going to get sunburned.”

That wasn’t what you were expecting him to say but you didn’t want to dwell on it. You start collecting your things. Sehun stands up and waits for you. When you’ve gathered all your belongings, he offers his hand to help you stand up. You reached for it gratefully. He guides you back to his car and drives you back home. And just like that, you two were back to bickering best friends.

After that eventful day on the beach, you hadn’t spared a thought on what happened that time. It was unimportant anyway. Weeks had passed by already and it was so easy to forget about that particular day since none of you talked about it again.

Until one Sunday afternoon.

You were binge watching the TV series your coworker, Junmyeon, recommended. You were halfway through the fifth episode when Sehun sent a message telling you to meet up with him for dinner. Normally you’d decline, especially since you were getting hooked to what you were watching, however, you remembered you actually forgot to buy groceries. You literally only had chips and a bottle of juice left at your place, so you agreed.

Sehun had told you to meet up at the diner you both frequented. Sundays were your lazy days so you just opt to wear a hoodie on top of your shirt. You didn’t even bother changing your shorts to pants anymore. Besides, it was just Sehun you were meeting. And he’s seen you in much worse clothes.

You went to the diner on the dot. When you got there, you weren’t even surprised that Sehun wasn’t there yet. He’s always been late to everything. You got used to waiting for him.

After fifteen minutes of waiting, you hear a particularly loud laugh from a girl entering the diner. You looked up to see who it was. But instead of focusing on the girl, your eye immediately landed on Sehun. He sees you sitting by your usual seats and heads over to your direction, the girl in tow.

Typical of Sehun to tag you along on his first date with a girl. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at your best friend. He grins at you. “Hey Y/N, remember Anne?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t.” You smile sheepishly.

“Sehun helped me at the beach a few weeks ago. I, uh, got injured for twisting my ankle,” Anne says.

Oh. It was the girl he carried bridal style. For some reason, you felt a tug at your heart.

Despite the bitter taste in your mouth, you offer your hand to shake and a smile. “Oh, hi Anne! Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. Sehun’s best friend.”

She shakes your hand in return. “Sehun has told me a lot about you!” She beams.

Huh? Was this not their first date?

Confusion was evident in your face so Sehun explains, “We’ve been going out for a while now.”

He always tells you everything. It’s like he couldn’t hold himself back. So you wanted to ask him why he didn’t tell you about dating her for god knows how long. What’s so special with Anne this time?

You notice her blush at whatever Sehun whispered to her ear. There was something about the sparkle in their eyes that made you feel so uneasy.

You tried not to grimace or show any sign of discomfort when they subtly look at each other when they think they weren’t looking. What was absolutely difficult for you was when they both made an effort to include you in whatever they were talking about. Under normal circumstances, you’d be happy to be included in the conversation, because, well, you always had a lot to say in a variety of things. But this time, you felt like you were tongue-tied. Too occupied with the weird feeling you were getting.

You observed that they were getting along well. Sehun doesn’t open up to strangers quickly. It takes around two months for him to actually start warming up to people. This was one of the reasons why some of the girls he dated didn’t last long. Not only was he reserved, he also has an intimidating aura. So you were a little taken aback to see him be this close to someone who he met just a few weeks ago.

There were times when you caught Sehun gazing at Anne in some type of way. The type of look that could make any woman’s heart melt if you looked long enough. The sight made your heart ache so much. You really weren’t sure why you’re feeling this way, you’ve never really viewed Sehun as someone you could romantically be involved with. You thought you just liked his personality.

So when Sehun sends another loving smile at Anne and she blushes profusely, you suddenly feel so overwhelmed that you choked on air. It was so embarrassing. They both looked at you with concern but instead of brushing it off, you excused yourself, telling them you weren’t feeling good. They insisted on driving you home but you declined, not wanting to watch them ogle at each other for longer. But you don’t tell them that. You just assured them that you’ll be fine. Your home was just a few blocks away, after all.

When you got home, you immediately went to bed, hoping that this weird feeling goes away with a night’s rest.

Since then, you declined Sehun’s invites. It was embarrassing to admit that you felt jealous over something so simple. You spent your days and nights in the office to get Sehun out of your mind. This wasn’t new though. Your work required so much time from you especially during the end of the month and Sehun knew that. You had to work on multiple reports and presentations that sometimes you couldn’t go home if you wanted to. The only consolation for you was that you have Junmyeon and Jongin that helps you with your tasks.

When Sehun stopped inviting you to eat out or hang out with him and Anne, you felt relieved. At least you didn’t have to pretend to be okay in front of them. But you shouldn’t have been too complacent, because one Saturday night, Sehun came knocking at your door.

“Are you okay? Is there something wrong?” Sehun asks as soon as you open the door.

You were stunned to see him, but you knew Sehun, he wouldn’t just stop talking to you just because he was in a relationship. He wouldn’t accept any reason for silence on your end, except if it was work, and right now, your hectic days were over.

“I’m fine, Sehun. You know how busy I get during the last days of the month.”

“But it’s already a week after your busy days,” He frowned. “And you haven’t sent a single message to me at all.”

You winced. He has a point, whenever you’re done with your “busy days”, you always seek Sehun out — to party or to hang out, whatever. He was always there to help you destress.

Right now, you don’t have an excuse to Sehun so you remained silent.

“Is there something wrong, Y/N? You can tell me,” Sehun says softly.

“Just tired of work,” You sigh.

“Then let’s watch a movie? We can order pizza too!”

You contemplate, was it a good idea to have Sehun so close?

Before you could even respond, he spins you around and gently pushes you inside your home. He sits you on your couch and props your leg on the coffee table. You couldn’t help but smile at him. He even knows the exact position that you do when you’re watching TV.

He sits beside you and gets the remote so he can choose which film you’re both going to watch. You stare at him as he carefully scans the list of movies. He really looks breathtaking no matter what angle. You wonder why it took you this long to acknowledge the feelings you had for him. He has a girlfriend now and they look like they’re getting along better as compared to his previous lovers. It was too late. The thought sends another uncomfortable sensation. Your vision was getting blurry and you looked away from him before you could even spill a tear.

When he has chosen a movie to watch, he stands up and dials the number of your favorite pizza parlor. You sigh in relief as he moves away, subtly trying to rub your eyes and get rid of the tears that were starting to form. You have to clear out whatever feelings you have for Sehun tonight, otherwise, you might just have to say goodbye to your friendship with him. You have to get through this night.

When Sehun comes back from the call, he scans your face. You looked so sad and so much thinner now. “You must have been so stressed over work,” He notes sadly. He gently pats your head as he says, “Don’t worry, I’ll let you rest after this. We can hang out tomorrow again and go shopping or something,” He pulls you closer and gently pushes your head so you’re leaning on his shoulder. You feel your heart flutter. You can smell his cologne in this position, and somehow it gives comfort to you. You let him hold you for the rest of the night, deciding that this was going to be the last time you’ll let him. For your sake and for Anne’s sake. You didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

The night went surprisingly well. At first the both of you kept quiet while watching the movie but when the pizza came, the mood suddenly lightened up. You both abandoned the movie as you started arguing over which food was better: pizza or pasta. Of course, you were on pizza’s team while Sehun whose taste buds can’t appreciate the flavor of pizzas kept on proclaiming pasta as the best food ever. The argument ended when you asked him, “Why are you eating pizza then? The pizza parlor served pasta as well! If it was ‘the best food on the planet’ then why are you here stuffing yourself with pizza?” which shut him up. You grin as he got silenced. To celebrate your win, you get to have the last slice of pizza. The night ended as you laughed at him while guiding him out of your home. What you weren’t aware of was the smile he was hiding when his back was turned to you. He was happy to have made you laugh before the night ended. He hated when you were sad. He cared for you and loved you more than what you think, but just not in the way you wanted him to.

You start hanging out with Sehun and Anne more ever since you vowed to eliminate your feelings for Sehun that night. The only problem was that every time you spent together with them, you felt your heart ache. Yeah, it sure was easier to say you’ll get over your feelings for him rather than actually doing it.

As winter came, you found yourself becoming more attached to your coworkers, Junmyeon and Jongin, since you’ve been dragging them when you spent time with Sehun and Anne. They knew about your feelings for Sehun and it was much easier not to slip up when they were around. The downside was that they were always giving you sympathetic glances when the couple displayed their affection. When they did this, you really just wanted to punch them. One time you almost punched Jongin for it but for some reason you felt too weak to do it. In fact, when the season changed, you became sickly. This wasn’t new, you always had colds whenever there were changes in the weather, but for some reason, this time felt different. There were days where you couldn’t get out of bed. There were days where you couldn’t stop coughing too. Junmyeon suggested you get checked up by a doctor but you always found yourself pushing it for next time.

One cold afternoon, you were at work with Junmyeon and Jongin. The day was slow since you’ve all finished with your tasks on time. You were all chatting about how it was the first time in months that work wasn’t stressing you all out. At one point, the conversation went to sports and you’ve started to mindlessly scroll through social media since you weren’t particularly interested in their topic. One post caught your eye, Sehun posted a photo of him and Anne kissing. You felt a pang in your heart as usual. You’ve witnessed them do this countless times already within the months you’ve hung out with the couple but every time it doesn’t hurt less. You try to fight back the sob that was about to spill out of your mouth but you ended up coughing instead. You covered your mouth with your handkerchief as you coughed and coughed. Junmyeon came immediately by your side, asking if you were okay. You waved a hand and just nodded. When you were done with your coughing fit, you lowered your handkerchief. Normally, you would just automatically put it back on your pocket but you caught sight of a reddish color on your white handkerchief. Was that blood? Your eyes widened a little but you tried not to be a little obvious since Junmyeon and Jongin were looking at you with concern.

“I’m taking you to the doctor after work. You can’t put it off anymore, Y/N. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve taken a lot of days off. In fact, you’ve called in sick more times this month compared to the last three years.” Junmyeon gives you a pointed look. You noticed Jongin bobbing his head up and down in agreement. You sighed heavily but agreed nonetheless. After all, you were worried quite worried too.

When your shift ended, you, Jongin and Junmyeon went together to the hospital. When you found a doctor who was available to check up on you, you were grateful that Junmyeon and Jongin weren’t in the doctor’s room so you were also able to tell him about the coughing and the blood that you saw on your handkerchief. The doctor, Dr. Han, wanted to run a series of tests on you once you explained whatever symptoms you were feeling. You were beyond anxious at this point because you coughed out with blood! He was stripped off of any emotions while talking to you and you didn’t know what to make off of it.

In the middle of your conversation, you get a call from Sehun. You ask Dr. Hand if you could take the call and he nods his head wordlessly.

Initially, you wanted to stand up and leave the room so you could talk to Sehun privately but your body felt so heavy, so instead you find yourself angling your body so you weren’t facing your doctor.

“Hello?” You answered the phone call, your throat suddenly feeling dry.

“Hey Y/N! Junmyeon said you’re in the hospital, do you want us to come over?” He asks, voice filled with concern.

Us. Of course, he and Anne were a package deal now.

It took you a few seconds to answer and you could hear Sehun panicking on the line while Anne was trying to calm him down.

“It’s just a check up, Hun.” You heard them let out a breath of relief and you wanted to smile but you started coughing again. You can still hear them on the line but you couldn’t answer because you couldn’t stop coughing so you ended the call. You also felt like it was so hard to breathe suddenly. You were feeling lightheaded too. When you covered your mouth with your hand, you felt something solid coming out of your mouth. What was that?

Dr. Han rushed to your side, he tried to listen to your lungs using his stethoscope and you saw him with widened eyes then he rushed to the door to call a nurse before your vision turned black.

When you woke up, your throat felt so dry. It was so hard for you to breathe even with an oxygen mask attached to you. You look around the room and see Junmyeon and Jongin on the sides of your bed. When Junmyeon noticed your movement, he immediately went out to call for a nurse while Jongin held your hand.

“What happened?”

Jongin looked at you sadly. “You had a coughing fit while you were with the doctor. The next thing we knew, you were unconscious and they were hauling you out of the room… The lab results came out a while ago and…” he trailed off. “I think I should let your doctor explain…”

The way he worded it and the way he looked made you feel so uneasy. You were scared. Were you going to die?

When Junmyeon re-enters the room, the two males share a look of sadness. Junmyeon goes by your side and reaches out for something in his coat. You watch him curiously. He hands you a single pink carnation.

That was odd. Why would he hand you a flower? This was the exact same flower that Sehun gave as a corsage when he took you to prom. It was quite a special flower for you personally because that night was a magical night for the two of you. You smile softly at the memory of him telling you how pretty you were and how your dumb ex boyfriend was a fool to let you go. You remember slow dancing with Sehun and him holding your hand to help you as you walk in heels. That night, he made you feel so special. It might have been the night you started to have a crush on him.

“What’s this for Jun?”

He doesn’t say a word, just presses a kiss on your forehead.

As if on cue, a group of doctors come into your room. It was weird to find five doctors in a single room. Even weirder to find one of the younger doctors a little bit more enthusiastic than the others. And where was Dr. Han? Why isn’t he here too? You don’t know what to think. An enthusiastic doctor meant good news, right? But this much doctors must mean that you were in serious trouble. You frown at the thought.

The doctor with a deep dimple started relaying your name, age, and the symptoms you’ve told Dr. Han a while ago. The enthusiastic doctor gives the eldest doctor a set of envelopes with your lab results. He frowns upon looking at all your results. You gulp.

The eldest doctor wipes the frown on his face and reaches a hand to you. “I’m Dr. Jung, I’m the attending doctor assigned to you. This is Dr. Kim Minseok, my resident. The three over here are interns.”

You just nod your head at them.

“Before anything else, I just want to let you know that your case is quite unusual and rare,” Dr. Jung says. Then he turns to the interns and asks, “Someone describe and explain the results to Ms. Y/N.”

The enthusiastic doctor goes closer to you, “I’m Dr. Byun Baekhyun. This is your x-ray film. There is swelling on your lungs which was one of the reasons why you were feeling chest pains and difficulty in breathing,” You were confused because whatever he was showing you definitely doesn’t look like your lungs at all. Dr. Byun points at the film somewhere in the lower right part. “These are… roots. These are stems and these are flowers.”

Wait, what? Was he joking? Because if he is, it’s literally not funny.

He carries on and says, “As Dr. Jung said, your case is extremely rare. You have the Hanahaki disease. It’s a condition where a person coughs up or throws up petals and/or flowers when they suffer from unrequited love. There aren’t many studies about it since it’s very rare. The last recorded case was 12 years ago. Studies say that there are two ways for it to be cured, first is to have that person love you back romantically and two is to undergo surgery,” He pauses and looks at Dr. Jung, “Dr. Jung has operated on the last person who had the disease. He surgically removed the infection on the patient’s lungs.”

The tallest among the intern doctors pipes up and says, “The success rate for the surgery is quite high. However, according to studies, the surgical removal of the infection also removes the patient’s feelings for their loved one. In extreme cases, they could even forget about that person and the patient could lose the ability to love again…”

Dr. Kim Minseok then says, “We understand that this might be very hard for you so we would like to give you time to think on how to proceed with this. However, based on your tests, the carnation seeds have already spread out to your body and have attached to some of your tissues. This is quite the dangerous stage…”

“How much time do I have left?” You ask weakly to Dr. Jung.

He clears his throat and gently says, “Around two weeks to a month. The infection has spread throughout your body already. You almost choked from the carnation that bloomed in your lungs…”

You nod in understanding. “Thank you, doctors. I’ll… let you know my decision soon,” You gave them an unconvincing smile.

“If you need anything else, you may call for me, Dr. Byun, Dr. Park or Dr. Zhang,” Dr. Kim says as he points at the interns. They all bow their heads before they exit your room.

Once the doctors are gone, you feel Junmyeon and Jongin squeeze your hands. You almost forgot they were there with them being so silent all throughout the conversation. You take a peek at their appearances and notice that they both look so… dejected.

“Hey, don’t be sad guys. Everything’s going to be fine.”

They don’t look convinced but they tried to crack a smile just so you won’t feel bad.

“Does Sehun know?” You ask no one in particular.

“He came here a while ago. He looked like a mess so we told him we’d go look out for you tonight. He didn’t really want to leave you. I told him he could at least pack some of your stuff so you can have something to change into later. When he left, that’s when Dr. Kim came by to update us on your status and condition. He’ll be back here soon though,” Jongin answered.

“Please don’t tell him. This is embarrassing.”

“Y/N, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“He’s not going to magically fall in love with me, you know. And he’s in love with someone else. He’ll be burdened if he knew he was the cause of this!” You cried.

Even when you were this sick, you still thought of Sehun. You know he’d blame himself if he knew what your condition was.

Jongin looked softly at you. It’s his first time seeing you this vulnerable. Seeing one of his closest friends cry like this in a hospital no less, made him want to cry too.

“Le-let’s tell him I have lung cancer instead,” You sniffed.

Jongin nods wordlessly. He didn’t want to upset you further.

After a few minutes of silence, Junmyeon asks, “If you insist on not telling Sehun, I’m assuming you will be having the surgery then?”

“I’m going to think about it…”

Truth be told, you didn’t want to get surgery, if that meant possibly forgetting Sehun. You can’t bear the thought of not knowing Sehun. Sure, you wanted to get rid of your feelings for him for so long but you don’t think everything will ever be the same once it’s gone. Not to mention the possibility of not being able to fall in love again. How terrible life would be without knowing or remembering how to love?

You would very much rather die knowing that you’ve truly, deeply, genuinely loved someone than live without remembering how to love at all.

When Junmyeon saw the tears in your eyes, he knew then that no matter what he says or does, you won’t be getting that surgery. He, Jongin and Sehun will have to witness how you’re literally going to die from pain due to heartache.

[astralsweetness]

I can’t be honest (but neither can you) || Changkyun/Reader (m)

➣ I cannot believe this is my first contribution to Monsta X, this is really how I’m entering the writing side of this fandom OTL Also hello idk how to write short summaries?? I proof-read this at 4:30 AM so please tell me if I missed something lol. Fair warning I switch P.O.V.’s often in this and with absolutely no regard to any writing rules

➣ Changkyun/Reader | Angst[?] with a surprisingly happy ending that I didn’t mean to write | Showcases some bad coping mechanisms from both he and the reader | Mentioned Wonho/Reader, but it’s purely platonic in a sexual way | Smut warnings include: mentions of choking, pegging, fingering, mentions of a ruined sexual scene, sort of self-imposed edging if you squint, hair-pulling, facesitting

➣ It’s been almost a year since he called off the relationship and your name still tastes like a mixture between sugar and ash on his tongue when he says it, your picture is still saved in his camera roll, and he’s taken the plunge these last few months to reach out to you to be friends again. His hyungs tell him it’s a bad idea, and he tells them he knows, because he does, really, he swears he does. It’s just that his heart soars when he gets to talk to you and he can’t remember why he was ever scared of letting you in past that last wall he’d put up, and he’s going to your place and he hates himself because instead of “I love you” he says “please fuck me” and even now he can’t be honest to you about his feelings.

“I want you to fuck me.” He’s standing at your door, speaking in English with that deep voice of his, and you just blink blankly at him - he hadn’t called or texted to say he was coming over, and to be completely honest you hadn’t seen him in over a week. The silence is uncomfortable, but his eyes are intense, and he refuses to shift shyly under your blank stare.

“..well, come in I guess.” You invite him in with raised eyebrows - he goes easily, knowing your apartment like his own home. It’s been almost a year since you two broke up, but he hasn’t forgotten anything. That same stupid plant he hated was still on your table. He had no idea how it was still alive.

“So.. we aren’t together anymore, we haven’t hung out in a while, but you decided I’m the person you want to fuck you. Suddenly.” Your tone of voice conveys your lack of belief - this sort of feels like some very strange joke, but you have no idea who’d ever come up with one like this.

“You fuck Wonho-hyung all the time, and you aren’t dating him, so why can’t you fuck me?” His words are said in a rush, the first sign of nervousness, and you cross your arms and cock a hip. It’s your default power-pose, lets you feel like you’re in control when you have no idea what’s going on.

‘Is that really all it is?’ you want to ask, but you stay silent. He doesn’t seem aware that when you’re with Hoseok it’s more for the other man’s emotional well-being than it was just to get laid. Sometimes people needed to be broken apart and pieced back together lovingly just to feel okay. For Hoseok, you were a friend he trusted enough to let break him and then take care of the pieces that remained shattered on the floor.

“If you tell me why then maybe.”

“I’m not doing shit for a maybe.” He fires back instantly, gaze narrowing. His shoulders have tensed and he’s widened his stance, an unconscious reaction to the way your own body language had changed. Whether he actually felt it or not, at a subconscious level he believed he was being threatened.

You step forward and snag him by the forearm - the fight goes out of him instantly, replaced by pure innocent confusion as you lead him to your bed. He notices dully that you’ve redecorated your bedroom - though it makes sense considering he was the one who had helped you liven it up before.

“Sit - and try to relax. All the muscles in your shoulders are tensing up.” Your words have the opposite affect you wanted them to have - he tenses more, seemingly thrown off by your care, your notice of his minute actions.

You watch the way his gaze drifts over your room – it catches and lingers on a group picture of you and the rest of his group, tucked safely into the frame of your vanity mirror.

It’s a nice picture, though you really don’t remember taking it. You’re fairly certain everyone was drunk though, since you’ve got your arm thrown around Minhyuk’s shoulders in it, pressing your cheek against his.

It’s cute, even if looking at it is bittersweet. You can see the question on his face, the ‘why did you keep this?’.

“It’s not like I stopped being friends with them just because we broke up.” You feel defensive over your choice, face heating – you weren’t even near him in the picture, on completely opposite sides in it. He just murmurs a soft “oh” that sounds dejected, and you desperately don’t want to think about it.

“Anyway –“ You’re desperate to move on at this point, and he seems to feel the same because his attention snaps back to you. “You’re not really in a position here to argue and make demands, but fine -“ It was just sex, right? For you, anyway. “I can’t literally right now, I have a class in 30 minutes, but if you tell me why then we can negotiate.” You feel like some sort of fucking dealer.

He seems vaguely surprised you’ve agreed so easily, but he works his jaw and tries to figure out how to explain his reasoning to you - whatever it may be. You let him think and go in search of your computer bag. Online classes were a pain, especially those that required attendance in the form of a webcam. The bag has been thrown into a corner of your room, and you sigh and bend down to begin your annoying search.

“Well, we’re not together anymore, so..” You crane your neck to look at him, even as you continue to rummage through your backpack for your computer cord. Damn thing was in there somewhere, you knew. “I don’t have to worry about what you think of me anymore?”

He finishes his statement with an accidental upwards inflection that turns it into a question, and your hands pause before you turn back around and continue searching, mulling over your word choice carefully. ‘You never had to worry’ sits on your tongue, something that is desperate to be said, but you swallow it back down. He wouldn’t believe you and it’d cool the current mood.

“I see.” You finally settle on, standing and popping your vertebrae back into place as your prize - the fucking charging cord - dangles from your hands. Your two words could convey many meanings, and you can see from your peripheral that his brow has furrowed. It’s not the answer he was expecting, though you think he probably didn’t know what he’d been expecting in the first place. “Then - what is it you want?”

“For you to fuck me.” He answers again, and then swallows as he notices your blank stare has returned.

“I know that, you said that. I meant what specifically are you looking to get out of this?”

“I want it to hurt.” His words make your breath catch in your throat, emotions swinging between vaguely turned on and worried. Sure, he’d had some masochistic tendencies in bed before, but - “I mean - I don’t – not physically -“ He’s switched to Korean in the wake of your silence, a comfort language, and you wonder if he even realizes he’s done it.

“Okay.” You respond simply in Korean back and he stops his rambling, just blinks at you. You see the tension finally start to drain out of his shoulders and switch back to English purely for your own sake, because it was easier, definitely not because you wanted to be able to hear his voice speaking your native language. “So long as you promise to use safewords, I won’t ask. I’m not your therapist and I’m not -“

“My girlfriend.” He finishes your sentence quietly, back to English as well, and your mouth goes dry.

“And I’m not here to judge you.” You remedy - you weren’t going to mention anything about your past relationship, and he looks away quickly at that realization. “You mentioned Hoseok -“ His hand twitches at his side when you call his hyung by his real name, but you mercifully don’t call him on this. Maybe this was a bad idea, but you’ve gone this long purely on the denial that he regrets breaking up with you, and it’s too late to stop that now. “- so I’m going to treat this situation exactly like that.”

“Okay?” Changkyun has no idea what that means, his fingers curling into your bedspread. You check the time - 20 minutes until class.

“I’m your friend, and I want to help you. This doesn’t change anything between us, this doesn’t add some extra dynamic, some extra layer.” Your voice has gone business mode and he’s stiffened his back at it, an ingrained response from being in the music industry for so long. “I’m not doing this just because I want sex - if you are, that’s fine, but I’m just doing this to help you out. Is that clear?” He nods once, eyes wide. You think he’s cute. You’ve always thought he was cute, and it reminds you of how cute turned into smitten and smitten turned into perfection and perfection turned into love and love - well, he ended love. “Changkyun - do you promise this is just about sex or release of some kind and nothing else?”

Your tone had softened, and he’d been let out of whatever thrall your no-nonsense voice had put him into. The question hangs in the air heavily, dripping of a nectar so sweet it’s sickening.

“Yes. I promise.” His voice is hoarse, cracking and quiet - and you think he’s lying.

But you’ve held on to your denial for so long. He had said before that the spark was just gone - and what were you supposed to say to that? It wasn’t his fault; people fell out of love all the time. You could barely believe he’d ever been interested in you from the beginning and you refused to believe you were worth falling in love with for a second time. The fact that you had managed to remain friends is more than you could have ever hoped for.

“Okay.” You repeat his assurance, more for your own benefit than his. The room is quiet, and thunder rolls in the distance. Fuck - a storm meant spotty WiFi for your class.

You check the time again - 15 minutes.

“We can use the stoplight system -“ His gaze has blanked so you take the time to roughly translate it into Korean, explaining until his brow smooths out, and then you’re back to English. “Aside from that, though, I need to know what you’re interested in, what you want to happen or don’t want to happen. You can hang out here if you want during my class, or leave, I don’t care - but take the time to think over what it is you want in this session.” Your words are too clinical, you know this, but you can’t keep yourself from doing it that way. You know most of the things he’s into and not into, but if you don’t take this route then it all feels too intimate. Besides, he’d always kept a very careful hold of how much control he’d let go around you before, never wanting to slip too far into subspace, always wanting to seem in command, even when subbing for you. You wonder if that’s changed. You certainly don’t remember him ever blatantly asking outright to have something done to him before.

Memories flash across your mind eye, his back covered in your scratch marks, the way he moaned brokenly when you pulled on his hair, the way he came when you pressed your fingers to his throat. But he never asked for any of it - you had to ask if it was okay to do to him, and he always brushed off any of your attempts of aftercare.

You swallow again, feeling vaguely sick. Things had been broken in your relationship long before he called it off, but neither one of you wanted to admit it. Your heart hurts for multiple reasons, but when you glance at him out of the corner of your eye you know the biggest one: ‘I hope I didn’t hurt him by not talking about it’.

But he didn’t talk about it either. Did he care about whether it hurt you?

“Is that okay?” He’s been talking to you, and you startle out of your thoughts - a half-formed little smirk dances at the corners of his lips, one eyebrow quirked in amusement. He knows you well enough to know when you’ve been drifting. “I said, I’ll stay here if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, it’s fine - sorry, was just.. thinking.” It doesn’t really surprise you that he’s decided to stay - he’s confident to a fault, it’s true, but there’s a slash of shyness that strikes through his character, and you know that if he left he might not be able to come back. The thunder rumbles in agreement.

You half-watch him as you set up your computer on the coffee table – he’s looking around your apartment with thinly veiled curiosity, though you don’t really blame him. It didn’t really look anything like when you two had been together, and yet.. you felt it still had his subtle touch all over it. You wondered if he noticed that.

The class is boring, as it usually is – you’re watching the screen but your mind is far away, listening to your admittedly enthusiastic professor talk about the hyoid bone and articulations while your focus is on Changkyun. He lingers around you with a nervous type of energy, clearly not feeling allowed to roam around your apartment (it’d be kind of weird if he had, you admit) but also not feeling comfortable enough to sit on the couch next to you, even if he would have been off camera.

It’s almost like it was before, and you half expect him to sit down next to you anyway and throw his arm around your shoulder, always just off-screen, sitting next to you during your classes while he amused himself with his phone, just so he could be near you.

You’re just about to be able to feel the phantom warmth from the memory of his arm around you before he coughs and you startle, eyes snapping to him – he looks back wide-eyed, not understanding your surprise but murmuring a quiet apology anyway.

God you were so fucked.

.｡..｡.

“So?” The instant your class had ended you’d snapped the computer lid shut – you hadn’t retained a single thing said, what a complete waste. It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d skipped and focused on Changkyun in the end after all. “Did you decide on what you wanted?”

You’re so flippant with your question that he feels like he’s being asked about what it is he wants to eat instead of how he wants to have sex – the entire hour of your class he’d been nervous, and those nerves had by now tightened into a very tight ball at the base of his spine that periodically sent white-hot flames licking along his muscles.

“I –“ His mouth is so fucking dry and he hates how small he suddenly feels – he’d never felt like this around you before, but usually it had always been you asking if you could do something to him, hadn’t it? “I said it earlier. I want you to fuck me.”

He watches your reaction with pin-point precision – the small widening of your eyes, the way your gaze darts to the side like it always did when you were thinking something over – it wasn’t like you hadn’t ever fucked him before, but he’d never asked you to do so, and you clearly hadn’t expected him to come out with something like that so easily.

Why the hell could he say something like that and not something as simple as ‘I love you’, or even ‘I miss you’?

“Okay.” You’ve wrested your thoughts back under control – it wasn’t fair of him to say something like that, looking so utterly and effortlessly attractive. “As long as there’s no kissing I’ll fuck you any way you like, Changkyun.” You were over him and he was over you and this was just sex.

If you said it enough you’d start to believe it, right?

Changkyun just nods at your terms, looking a bit despondent – you can’t help the strong surge within you that says to fix it, fix whatever upset him, but you have a feeling you knew already. He’d always been a bit fixated on kissing you, but you knew if you let him this time then it’d all be over.

“I don’t remember you ever falling this far into the ‘submissive’ side of things, Changkyun.” You’re desperate to regain the upper-hand, and he flushes a bright red at your comment, grumbling out a weak “shut up” that has you smiling.

“Have you been experimenting?” You’re still teasing him but he bristles at the insinuation that he would have been with anyone after you – you had no reason to think he hadn’t been but the mere thought of being with anyone other than you makes him ache deep in his chest, in his soul.

“No.” He tries to keep his voice calm, but it wavers still and he digs his fingernails into the soft leather of his belt, pausing. “I haven’t been with anyone since –“

He can’t say it, but you understand regardless – he doesn’t like how surprised you look, ducks his head and lets his hair obscure his view of you as he refocuses on undressing. It’s not that you’d been wrong to be surprised with his decision for today, either – before you, he’d never really definitively considered himself particularly dominant or submissive, happy with having the choice to be either at the drop of a hat. That changed with you though – you had been so uncompromising with your power, beautiful and self-assured, and he knew without a doubt that if you so much as even hinted at it he would be on his knees for you every single time.

Not that he had ever told you that, of course. He’d never told you anything he really wanted to. Even now, with you looking at him softly, trying to see if you’d crossed a line with your little teasing jabs, the words ‘I’m happy being this for you’ get stuck in his throat and all he can do is tug his shirt over his head wordlessly, fingernails clicking nervously at his belt as he undoes it. You pretend not to notice the way your heartrate accelerates as he reveals his body bit by bit to you, slender waist but powerful figure, beautiful skin, beautiful body.

“Well, then – lie down.” You gesture to your bed and he swallows down the stupid fucking butterflies he gets at the gesture – he’d been on your bed before, he’d been in this position before, there was absolutely nothing to be nervous about.

And still, despite his nerves, a pleasurable chill runs down his spine when he hears the cap of the lube being clicked open, and he forces himself to exhale as he shifts and tries to get comfortable on a comforter he no longer recognized, in a room that had no trace of him in it anymore.

You look at him with a level gaze, always so calm, and he ignores the erratic beating of his heart and nods his assent for you to begin, immediately shifting his gaze to your ceiling.

Why the fuck was he so goddamn nervous?

(He tries to forget the way he instantly whimpers when he feels your finger, slick with lube, probing at his rim, tries to forget the way he gets hard in under a minute from your heavy gaze and one finger alone, and god he aches for more, aches for anything you’re willing to give him.)

“You’re taking this awfully well.” The teasing comes out unbidden, spilling past your lips before you can even think about the words – but it’s true, for someone who had claimed to not have been with anyone since you he was taking your fingers incredibly well.

“My own hands – fuck – exist..” His snarky response turns into a shaky moan halfway through when you decide to carefully – but quickly – add a third finger. There’s something erotic (and interesting) to you about that, thinking over the fact that Changkyun had been finger-fucking himself ever since you two broke up.

“You look good like this.” It’s an attempt to make up for the previous teasing but all it does is cause him to groan and throw a forearm over his eyes, legs spreading wider when you hit that spot deep inside.

“Fuck, jesus – fuck..” It’s a broken sob instead of an actual sentence (though he manages to stick with English), a familiar feeling already building deep in his gut. He’s not sure if it’s because it’s been so long since he’d been fingered by someone else or if it’s because it’s you doing it, complimenting him while doing so, or if it’s a combination of everything, but his back arches against his will and he knows he is seconds away from coming undone already.

“Stop – stop, oh my god –“ At his desperate plea you stop moving completely and he wants to sob as the pleasurable feeling slowly ebbs away, an almost painful drag as it settles back into a dull burn. He’s gasping, tiny whimpering sounds as he sucks breath back into his lungs, chest heaving – his eyes are wide, fingers curling into your comforter. He looks frantic, frightened almost, and even if it wasn’t your responsibility you knew you’d be desperate to fix it.

“Changkyun, ar –“

“I’m fine.” He bites it out angrily, doing his absolute best to look like he had been anything but moments away from an orgasm five minutes into.. whatever this was. He’s shutting you out again, before anything even begins, and it fills you with such an irrational anger that you have to suck in a breath of your own to keep from lashing out, taking gentle care to extract your fingers even as your blood boils.

“Stop fucking lying to me.” You can’t keep the ice from your words, even if you manage to control the volume and pitch – his dark eyes snap from the ceiling to you in surprise. There’s a panicked feeling bubbling up in his chest, because he really doesn’t know if he can handle you calling him on his true feelings for you right now, doesn’t want to have to admit he still loves you while he’s naked and so vulnerable.

“I’m not –“

“Stop it.” His mouth shuts with an audible click of his teeth, so sudden is your cut-in. Your brow has smoothed out, no longer angry, instead immensely sad, and he’s not sure this is any better. “You said you wanted to do this because you didn’t have to worry about my opinion. So why are you still doing it?”

He can’t breathe, and the lube is drying sticky on your fingers, and for a moment neither of you are aware of the position you’re in, the way the thunder has become your constant background music – he’s looking at you unblinkingly and you’re staring back, and it’s too intimate, too much, but neither of you look away.

“Please stop.” He speaks and it’s barely a whisper, the sound of someone’s heart breaking louder than his voice. You don’t know what to say but open your mouth anyway.

Lightning flickers outside your bedroom window and then your apartment is shaking from the resounding thunder, the power flickering and then plunging the two of you into darkness. Suddenly you can breathe again, and you’re quickly trying to slide out from in between his legs because he said ‘stop’ and he was fully coherent even if he hadn’t said ‘red’, because he said ‘stop’ and you have only ever wanted him comfortable.

“Wait –“ He is frantic, grabs your forearm with frigid fingers as he leans half off your bed to catch you from retreating too far. It’s hard to see him but you get flashes from the light outside your window, electricity reflecting off his dark eyes in starbursts.

“You said to stop.” Your voice is broken and you feel so powerless, sick inside because while you rarely manage to ruin a scene it still tears you up inside each time, and Changkyun wouldn’t let you try to fix it with aftercare and you don’t know what to do anymore.

“I meant –“ Stop talking, stop laying me bare and open, just fuck me and make me forget everything, stop being you so I can stop loving you. “I just want to be ruined.” He says instead, and his voice is so low but so weak that you barely recognize it.

“I can’t do that if you don’t let me.” Your clean fingers curl around his and gently pry them from your arm – but then you keep holding them, and you want to let go but you can’t remember how to tell your body to do so. “Will you let me, Changkyun?”

The air is still and silent aside from the rain slashing angrily at your windows – there is no thunder, your own heartbeat loud enough (or maybe it was his, you didn’t know anymore).

“I want to.” He answers instead, voice quiet but a bit stronger than before, and your eyes have adjusted so you can see the features of his face vaguely now, follow the line of his brow to his cheek to his lips, and you’re leaning in and you hate yourself because you had promised this was the one thing you wouldn’t do.

“Let me wreck you then, baby.” And oh that nickname was a mistake but you’d said it anyway, a ghost of a whisper against his lips, a proposition and a plea all in one. He moves forward the last centimeter and connects your lips as an answer, a sound that is almost one of pure relief being ripped from his throat.

It’s like he’s been waiting years for this moment, doesn’t even fight as you grip his jaw lightly and angle him into a better position so you can scope out the inside of his mouth with your tongue, relearning things you had known long ago but had thought were forgotten.

There’s a flighty feeling in his chest, one of nervousness and expectation – he doesn’t want to give you control so easily, he doesn’t want to be opened and laid bare in front of you, he doesn’t want you to see something you dislike in him – but more than anything he wants you to touch him and keep kissing him and god he fucking misses you, has missed this. He’d asked you to ruin him, you’d asked to wreck him, but he knew he was already both ruined and wrecked just from being near you again, from having your lips on his own.

You try to slide your hands back down his body but he stops you, continues to kiss you as his fingers curl around your own, and the act is so intimate it almost feels wrong.

“Just – hurry up, I’m ready enough.” He manages to say scattered between four different kisses, never apart from your lips for more than a few seconds. You hate yourself for not even trying to stop him, leaning into them each time.

“You can stretch yourself some more while I get ready.” You have to pull away from him completely to say this, and he follows you like you’ve got some magnetic pull on him before you’re off of the bed and the connection is broken.

Even with your eyes adjusted it’s hard to properly get the harness on, fingers fumbling with the straps but managing in the end. You can hear him breathing harsh, anticipating – you can tell from the sounds alone that he hadn’t taken your advice, but you’re not surprised. Always your little pain slut, even if he had never wanted to admit it.

When you approach him again his eyes are wide, brow furrowing as he notices you’re still fully clothed – he keeps his mouth shut tight though, gaze darting in the dark. The storm still rages on outside but neither of you even notice it anymore.

Your fingers on the inside of his thigh startle him – he jumps, trying to close his legs, but you force them back open again. Something about that simple action makes a moan trickle into his throat, but he swallows it back down stubbornly.

He can’t conceal the next sound he makes when you press the blunt tip of the strap-on to his opening, though, a rasping whine as you push in slowly, so fucking slowly. Even with all the lube he knew you’d slathered over the toy it still takes a bit of work to get it into him, and every slight stretch makes him grit his teeth in a masochistic type of pleasure, feeling so full by the end that it makes him so painfully hard his head spins. It hadn’t taken long to get him worked back up, but he’s not really thinking about that right now.

All he knows is that he wants to be close to you, wants to feel good, wants to make you happy – he wants so much that he doesn’t think he can even begin to put any of it into words. It always ends up at ‘I love you’ and he already knew that was a phrase that lodged in his throat like knives.

“Please.” This he can say – you don’t know what he’s begging for but he’s begging all the same, the word ‘please’ becoming a chant that slowly shifts back into his native tongue when teeth mark his throat, fingertips pressing insistently into his hips as you fuck him hard and rough. He hopes, distantly, that it bruises. He wants to be able to remember this for as long as possible.

If he was present enough in the moment he might have been embarrassed by the sounds he was making – his naturally deep voice has transformed completely into high breathy whines, all trace of his ‘savage rapper’ persona gone when you bite his lip hard enough it throbs before you’re flipping him, pushing his shoulders down into the bed with one hand.

The feeling of your palm, small but blindingly warm on his back, makes him weak enough that his thoughts stutter, head a chaotic mess of fractured thoughts and sensations. His eyes are open but unfocused – it’s dark in the room anyway, but he’s unaware of it, cognizant only of your presence and his, that warm fuzzy feeling in his chest competing with the white-hot fire you were stoking lower in his pelvis.

You want to cry at how beautiful and perfect he is for you, the way he arches his back instinctively, presents himself as your own personal plaything – but he wasn’t yours, you had to remember that, remind yourself over and over that this was just sex. (If you repeated it enough it started to stop sounding like real words, and that was equally as dangerous as forgetting them in the first place.)

The head of the strap-on teases his entrance and he groans, clenching his fists into your pillow – you’d taken it out when you’d flipped him and he was fighting against every fucking urge and want and need his body was screaming at him to just take the plunge and force himself backwards. (But another part of his brain is telling him to wait, to make you happy, to draw this out as long as fucking possible because he has no idea if he’ll ever get to experience it again.)

“Can you tell me what you want?” Your voice is soft as silk, quiet, and a fluttery feeling rises up in his stomach at the sound, at how you’ve modified an order to be a request. He doesn’t know how he feels at the realization that you were taking it ‘easier’ on him verbally, that you had at some point come to understand he was having trouble letting go completely.

“I –“ He tries, he really fucking does, but like always the words get stuck in his throat. He just can’t seem to bring himself to admit what he really wants out loud and it is destroying him. One of your hands smooths down his side, lingering at his hip, and he feels like you’ve left behind a line of pure fire on his skin, almost burning away the shame and hatred he feels at himself for his fucking inability to be vulnerable, his cowardice.

“Just fuck me.” He says instead, defeat coating his words – and he can feel you hesitating, because it was obvious he’d meant to say something else and hadn’t.

He opens his mouth to say something, though he has no idea what, at the same instant you decide to slide the strap-on back into him. Whatever he’d been planning to do is gone from his mind instantly, his world reduced to just the dull burn, the frustratingly slow drag against his innermost walls, the way you manage to somehow brush up against the spot that has him trembling and dropping to his forearms. He curses in a strange mixture of Korean and English and you laugh softly at the sound, even as you slide out and thrust back into him hard enough that he jolts forward.

He feels, in a sense, like he is being broken in all the best ways – all he can focus on is you, all he can feel is the way you’re fucking him, grabbing at his hips. His breath is caught in his throat and he just knows he is going to ache later, bone-deep and satisfying.

But it’s not enough, never enough – you’re not asking to do more to him like you had in the past and he can’t manage to tell you what he desires most (though, at this point, he’s not totally sure he could say anything coherent anyway). He reaches back with one hand, groping – your fingers wrap around his and he drags them up to his hair, a wordless plea. He hopes you understand what he’s asking for.

A broken moan is ripped from his throat when you fist your hand in dark strands and pull backward, forcing him into an arch – his mind has blanked into varying shades of white, electricity on his skin and molten lava running through his veins, your heat against his back overwhelming.

You know it’s a bad idea before you do it, but you lean down and press you lips to his shoulder anyway, teeth scraping over feverish skin – the hoarse whine he gives at the feeling makes wetness pool between your legs, uncomfortable and wrong because this was just sex, this was just supposed to be for him.

The urge to mark him up is so strong it’s almost distracting – your hips falter in the bruising pace you’d set as your mind drifts, Changkyun groaning at the sudden shift in speed.

“Let me –“ He’s gasping, feels like he’s been running a fucking marathon or drowning (and oh, he has, drowning in you, in his expansive and terrifying feelings for you) but he knows your hips have to be sore by now and to be completely honest he is just downright greedy, wanting to feel you deep inside, wanting to –

He just wants so much. He reaches back to press at you gently and you let him move you instantly, trying to figure out what had bothered him – as soon as you realize he just wants a change in position you’re grabbing at his hips again, tugging him over your legs. His cock drags against the fabric of your shorts and he nearly sucks in a breath, trying to focus on lining himself up instead of the way it throbbed (or the way you were looking at him, hair splayed out on the pillow and yet so in command still).

He thinks he should feel more in control like this, on top of you, hands braced on your shoulders – but he doesn’t, not at all, and he knows instantly that he isn’t when you snap your hips up to meet his and he falls onto you, moan vibrating against the skin of your neck. He can feel your fingers in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, can feel the infuriatingly teasing way his cock is rubbing up against your fucking shirt you never took off. It’s gone untouched for so long that it’s absolutely aching by now and he thinks he might actually be able to orgasm like this – but he doesn’t want to, not yet, even with how border-line painful its become. He doesn’t want this to end, doesn’t want to have to go back to a world without you in it.

His hips stutter on top of yours when you tug on his hair again, grinding hard against the strap-on, and you lift his face high enough you can press your lips to his, all hot breath and panted moans. He tastes of honey and heartbreak and you want nothing more than to make him cum and fall apart, trembling, on top of you.

“Am I ruining you properly, baby?” Your voice is dark red and sinful, and he trembles at the sound and tries to seek out your lips again, a whine lodged in his throat when you tighten your grip on his hair and keep him in place, rolling your hips languidly up to meet his frantic movements. “Tell me.”

“Fuck..” He responds instead, deep and rough in his chest – it cracks into a high moan when you punish him with a harsh upwards thrust, fingers curling into your shoulders. Your soft laugh, amused or delighted he’s not sure, makes a feeling like electric butterflies break out across his skin. If you had let go of his hair he’d have buried his face into your neck again to hide his expression – but you haven’t, and he knows you can see everything, every part of him, every expression he makes.

He thinks he must look stupid, embarrassing – but all you see is pure beauty. His brow has furrowed and sweat drips down to his collarbones, bruised lips parted slightly, glistening from where you’d kissed him earlier. Hazy eyes try to look anywhere but your face failingly, allowing you to see the foggy galaxy residing in their darkness. You’re not sure if what you’re seeing is his pupil or iris, but you find it gorgeous all the same, intoxicating.

“I’m going to make you cum, Kyunnie.” He shakes at your dangerous words, your knife-sharp gaze. You’re aware he never responded to your last question. “You’ll fall apart up there, ruined, just like you asked to be.”

Your words wrap around him, coiling tightly like chains – he feels caught, trapped, and he wants nothing more than for you to make good on your word, even if it sends a sharp trill of fear through his stomach.

The grip on his hair lets go suddenly and he sags forward, as if your pull on him had been all that was keeping him upright. He’s left a mess of pre-cum on your shirt, flushes a dark red when you drag your fingers through it thoughtfully.

“Messy boy..” You muse, heat spreading through you when you see the way his cock jerks at those two simple words, so red and aching, so fucking beautiful and desperate.

Fuck, you wanted so badly for him to be yours.

One of his hands flies to your wrist when you finally wrap your fingers around him – more of his weight is on you now but you can’t find it in yourself to mind, not with the way he’s breathing hot and wet against your neck, the way he doesn’t stop you when you move your hand, just clings to your arm desperately like he’s not totally sure he wants to be touched yet.

A choked sound leaves his mouth, lips bitten bloody, and you turn your head so you can breathe against his ear, let him press his face further into your neck. “Such a little whore..” You murmur, and he sobs open-mouthed against your skin and thrusts weakly into your fingers and then back onto the strap-on, unsure of which feeling he wanted more of. “So beautiful. So perfect.”

A part of him feels like he’s dying, unsure if he was really okay with being so vulnerable with you – but another part of him, the larger part, feels like he is fucking soaring, like this is all he had ever wanted and more. There are flames licking at his body, coiling tighter and tighter in his stomach, and he’s not sure how much longer he can last like this.

“You can fall, Changkyun.” Your voice is in his ear, like the sound of silk sliding over skin, fingernails tracing lightly along the back of his neck. He hates the way he reacts so viscerally to it, climax surging forward at the sound, at the way your fingers slide wetly over the head of his cock pinned in between the two of you. “It’ll be okay, you can fall to pieces. I’ll catch you.”

He orgasms with a wail that makes him flush a dark red, and he would have been mortified at the sound if every nerve ending in his body wasn’t currently sparking, his muscles spasming as he tries to keep thrusting into your fist even as the lightning bolt sensations turn from overwhelming to painful. He doesn’t even realize tears have slipped from his eyes until he feels your lips kissing them away, and he is hit with such a wave of emotion that he can’t breathe all over again (and it is just pure emotion, he couldn’t identify a single one of them if he tried).

After you slowly pulled out and settle him on the blankets he watches, distractedly, as you slide the straps down over your hips, leaving it on the floor to be dealt with later. Impulsively he reaches out to catch the edge of your shorts when you try to head to the bathroom, tongue sliding over chapped lips when you turn that powerful, beautiful gaze of yours on him. One of your eyebrows has raised, appraising him as he slowly tugs you back to the bed until you’re resting on your knees next to his waist. Sweat is drying sticky on his skin and he’s trying not to feel like he’d done something wrong, reacted in some undesirable way that you’d remember and relate to him for the rest of your life - but above all that, he wants to taste you. It’s the only consistent thought running through his mind, more prevalent than the lingering unease at having bared so much of himself to you.

“Please.” Again, it’s all he can say, eyes so dark and wide, pleading – his fingertips rest lightly on your hip, over the waistband of your shorts, lips parted ever so slightly. It’s so obvious what he’s asking for, and you want to say no. You’re pretty sure you need to say no. “Babe –“

You surge forward to cut him off mid-sentence with a brutal kiss and he gasps – you didn’t want to hear that, and you can tell from the way he’s frozen that he hadn’t meant to say it, even as his body returns the kiss on pure muscle memory alone. This entire experience had been a mess, a mistake, and yet –

“Okay.” It’s more a breath against his mouth than a word, but the way he smiles at your soft agreeance makes your heart hurt. You were in so deep, had fallen so far – how foolish of you to think you had been over him. How fucking stupid you’d been.

He wastes no time, pulling your shorts and underwear down like he’d done it hundreds of times before – because he had, you note dully – fingers wrapping around your thighs. When you sink down onto his face a tension drains out of his body that neither of you had even noticed was still lingering.

All he can smell is you, all he can taste is you – you surround him and this is all he’s ever fucking wanted, to be possessed by you, to be as close to you as possible. He’s not even totally sure what he’s doing aside from the fact that he’s putting his absolute all into it – he’s just trying to taste every inch of you he can, tongue delving as deep as possible before switching to suck on your clit. There’s no rhyme or reason to his method and it has you letting out a quiet sigh that borders on a gasp. He tries to memorize the sound instantly – any sound he could get out of you was a treasure in itself, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to hear them again after this.

There is no particular build-up to your orgasm – it’s at first lingering briefly bone-deep and then suddenly it is upon you in streaks of lightning, hips grinding against his face but mouth stubbornly shut. You can’t let this be any more intimate than it already was. (And yet you instinctively reach down and lace your fingers with his, and his thumb smooths across the back of your hand as he continues to mouth at your cunt, drink up your fluids. You are so utterly and completely stupid, your heart in your throat.)

There is a moment you want to carve out afterwards, a small bubble in time where the two of you could just bask in the afterglow and pretend like nothing had changed from a year ago – but you can’t let yourself do that, pushing yourself up off the bed even as every fiber of you begs to remain beside him for a moment longer. His fingers remain holding yours a moment too long before dropping to your bedspread, defeated.

Your heart suddenly felt like it was three sizes too big for your body, filled to the brim with love for a man you knew you’d have no second chance with, and you clench your teeth tightly to keep it from oozing out between your teeth like bittersweet sugar.

He’s still panting when you return with a damp cloth, reaches for it as if he really expects you to make him clean himself off. You scoff and catch his hand with your own, setting it back down on the bed as you begin to clean off his face first. Whether you wanted to avoid intimacy or not there were things you simply refused to throw to the wayside just because you wanted to remain distant, and one of those was taking care of him after sex. (He’s more receptive this time than he used to be, not fighting you and claiming he was fine, letting you dote on him with a sort of hesitant and soft acceptance. It makes your heart hurt all the more, the pure ache and want almost unbearable.)

“You’re always so messy..” It’s meant to be a light comment but the two of you accidentally lock gazes when you say it, your hand stalling in its motions. He looks like he wants to say something, lips parting – your breath catches in your throat, waiting, but he ultimately just shuts his mouth, gaze darting away from you. Your breath leaves you in a small burst. “Just relax, Kyun, I’ve got you.”

It’s the typical words you say to a sub after an intense session (with an accidental affectionate nickname that you bite the inside of your cheek for), but you mean them, and you don’t want to, but you do, irrevocably. You know that if he needed it, if he asked for it, you would let him stay here for as long as he wanted. You knew that tonight you wouldn’t be asking him to leave. And for that you are so, so incredibly fucked. (You wonder if he is too, judging from the way his eyes widen at the nickname and his breath stutters – but you crush that thought instantly, don’t dare to get your hopes up.)

He’s surprised that you take the time to clean him up, bring him water and a change in clothes – they aren’t his but they’re clearly a man’s, and he wonders if they belong to Hoseok considering the size. Something deep in his chest hurts at that thought. He’s even more surprised when you pull on an oversized shirt instead of telling him to leave – he faintly realizes that he recognizes it, a soft violet that hung down to your lower thighs and always felt soft against his chest when he’d hold you – crawling into bed next to him after changing into it, though he’s automatically moving to accommodate you, perfectly content to throw the thick comforter to the floor to be dealt with in the morning.

“Is.. this okay?” Your voice is quiet, so tentative and soft and hesitant, and all he wants to do is tell you yes, this was more than okay, this was everything he had ever wanted.

“Yeah – I mean, it’s your bed, so..” He hates himself for the way he responds, swallowing hard but taking the initiative to slide his arm over your side, nose in your hair. He can feel the way you tense, but you don’t say anything against it or try to pull away. “And.. this? It’s okay too?”

“…it’s okay.” It’s a small response but he inhales deeply in relief, drinking in your scent half by accident. It’s the same smell he had missed for so long, the one he’d dream of and wake up thinking there was a chance it still lingered on his pillow, heart dropping through his ribcage when he realized it wasn’t.

Despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach you fall asleep fast, mentally drained and physically exhausted - his fingers trace the line of your shoulder, head pillowed on his own arm as he watches you sleep. There is a purely warm and happy feeling trying to spread through his body, but it doesn’t make it very far before the remembrance that you still weren’t his and he still wasn’t yours freezes it in its tracks. He feels like his heart is melting, dripping through his ribs and oozing into his stomach and making him sick.

He’s shaking your shoulder before he even knows what he’s doing, and you’re half-awake and groggy but so fucking beautiful and every single one of his nerves feels like a live wire underneath his skin, buzzing and loud and painful, and he is so scared, but he is also tired. Tired of hurting, tired of missing you, tired of the way Kihyun will be talking about you but stop awkwardly when he notices Changkyun listening, tired of the way he smiles so big his cheeks hurt when the two of you talk on the phone, tired of how he swallows down the words “love you” every time you hang up – and he’s fucking tired of being scared most of all.

“Changkyun, you better be fucking dying..” You’re angry, always angry when woken suddenly, and he just wants to kiss you.

‘I love you, I’m stupid, I was scared, I always loved you, I never fucking stopped, did you know I would dream of you? Did you know that you were the only thing on my mind? On plane rides, in the vans, backstage, all I could think about was you and my hyungs all told me I was just hurting myself and I knew that but I still hoped that somehow you and I would end up happy together.’

Like always he can’t say any of it. It sits on his tongue and he just utters a quiet ‘fuck’ instead, throat tight. Why couldn’t he fucking do this?

“..Kyun?” He’s sitting up now, and you are too, side by side – your expression is open, sleepy but worried, and he has a sudden urge to take your face in his hands and kiss your eyelids.

The scariest part of telling the truth, of laying yourself bare for someone, of letting them in, was that they could take one look and never come back. And maybe he’s not afraid of loving you – maybe he’s never been afraid of loving you, with your eyes that hold the only stars he ever wants to look at. Maybe he’s been afraid of not being loved back.

He swallows hard, reaches for every bit of confidence and courage performing has ever given him, forces himself to be brave the way the industry has taught him to be. Moonlight filters in through the window and he thinks your eyes might actually house the milky way in them somehow.

“I love you, still – always. I never stopped.”

He can’t breathe because you’re just looking at him, stunned and disbelieving, tears collecting on your lash-line but not falling, never falling, and he feels like the fucking worst for telling you now, this way, this bluntly – but he knows if he didn’t say anything he would have never said anything, and he’s not sure he could have survived that, so the words had fallen from his lips hard and heavy and desperate to be said. (And a part of him is still surprised he even managed to say them at all, rushed and frantic as they were.)

“I –“ Your brow is furrowed and your voice is thick, but when he reaches to brush your tears away you let him and his lungs start to tentatively fill themselves with oxygen again.

When you smile it is watery and weak but it is there, and he feels like sunlight has reappeared in the lining of his skin, bright and blinding and warm.

[if-found-return-to-gusu]

Saturdate With Lan Zhan Pt. 1

So in order to get things off on the right foot, I got up EXTRA early on Saturday. On purpose. Of my own free will. 

I wanted to get a full day of this. SO I told Lan Zhan to meet me at that hobby shop we met at before for that walk we took at 9 in the morning. Oh that seems so long ago now but it wasn’t. 

So much has been happening in my life lately it feels unreal. 

Anyway, 9AM. That meant I had to get up early enough to get ready and walk there (Hell if I was lettin’ my skateboard ruin my hair that day).

I had wanted this day to help Lan Zhan unwind from last weekend. I know how tough that was for him. I wanted this to be a GOOD day. I think I succeeded.

Well… I wanted that… but also… I kinda just wanted to go on a date. Which really… I mean… it wasn’t a date. And I shouldn’t have treated it like one. Especially since…. 

Well at the very least if I wanted it to be a date I probably should have TOLD him that. But I was being selfish. I doubt he would have said yes if I asked him out as a romantic thing. But as friends… then I could just pretend for a while. And I did. Hardcore. I’m… a bit ashamed of how I acted. But what’s done is done. (Despite the common opinion I do actually feel shame sometimes. A lot of times actually….)

The point of all that is that I decided to dress up some even. I put on my nicest jeans (the ones that make my ass look fucking amazing), and this nice like jacket/scarf combo. The scarf was a gift from Shijie way back when. She knitted it herself for me with this SUPER soft yarn. Its’ this nice deep red and nice and big. I love it so much. I’d wear it all the time if it weren’t sure to give me heatstroke in the summer. Well that and I want it to last as long as possible. 

(I think I actually stole the jacket from Jiang Cheng way back when but eh details details). 

So I got up early to get dressed and like actually BRUSH my hair n shit. Again, though many would ne’er believe me, I do, in fact, own a hairbrush thankyouverymuch. My hair’s just still short enough that I don’t normally need it. Besides the messy out of bed look is sexy right? Right??

AAAAAnywaaaay

I managed to wake up on time and got out the door after all my primping with enough spare time to get a coffee! I actually timed it perfectly. It’s easy when Lan Zhan is always perfectly punctual. (It’s impressive really. Neither late nor early. Just perfectly on time). I got a coffee with like ALL the caffeine for me so that I didn’t hate life when Lan Zhan showed up, and I got a tea for him. And I timed it so it’d be the perfect drinking temp by the time he showed up!

Sometimes the best laid plans actually work ha!

Admittedly I probably should have started drinking my coffee sooner, heat be damned because I was probably a little more than half asleep by the time Lan Zhan showed up to pick me up. Heh. But nothing better than waking up to see Lan Zhan’s face no matter what the circumstance!

Didn’t spill our drinks so still counting it as a win. 

I was about to get up and just jump in the car but this perfect human being got OUT to greet me and gave me a nice warm hug! (It was only a bit chilly but I was tempted to complain about how cold it was so he’d hold me tighter. Resisted. Barely.)

I will never get enough of the feeling of being in his arms. Never. 

Anyway we climbed back into the (nice and toasty) car and got ourselves all buckled in (safety first folks!). And then idiot that I am I realized that my map was still in my pocket, unbuckled my seatbelt to get it out and buckled up again before I smoothed it out. 

Lan Zhan raised a perfect eyebrow at me and tried to sneak a peek at my paper but I snatched it away before he could ruin the surprise. 

Told him no peeking allowed!

He pointed out he could punch in the address into his fancy car GPS like a normal human but that would spoil it!!!

I told him he was just gonna have to trust me. He looked a bit dubious (fair) but consented. 

Okay so… turns out I actually DO need to be more careful when I’m writing. There were a few instructions that even I had trouble reading what with the paper being so crumpled and having written in a rush because I almost forgot this morning. Smudged the ink a few places too. 

Lan Zhan probably lost a bit of confidence in me after we nearly missed our turn offs the second… and third…… and…  well either way! No peeking means no peeking! 

And I got us there JUST fine in the end!

I think for a moment Lan Zhan lost ALL confidence in me when I made him pull into this parking lot that was really just a large field. There were other cars parked there but other than that all you could see was corn and hay bales. 

And a giant sign of WELCOME. It was cute! We got out of the car and I took a deeeeeeep breath. It smelled like leaves and pumpkin and apple cider and mini donuts and just oooof. The best of all the Autumn aromas. 

Lan Zhan asked where we were, but I just grinned at him and told him to trust me again. We got in the fortunately very fast moving line to get in. There was an entrance fee but I was prepared! I already had my money in my hand so Lan Zhan couldn’t be sneaky and pay for it instead. He likes to do that but I was adamant that today was going to be my treat! This was for him after all and I wanted to treat him.  

He looked a little put out but I grinned at him and told him “Everything is on me today. Anything you want, you tell me!” and then I STARED HIM DOWN basically DARING him to disagree.

He stared back for a long moment but eventually signed softly and agreed. 

VICTORY!!!

Before he could change his mind and start fussing, I grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. My heart was going a million miles an hour because now was the moment of truth. 

I stepped away from him and spread my arms wide like I was some weird person showing prizes on a game show. 

“Ta-Daaaaaa! It’s a Corn Maze!!!” 

And it was.

Lol

Have y’all ever been to a corn maze? I only went once with the Jiangs shortly after I was taken in by them. I think Uncle Jaing wanted to make a good impression. We all went as a family. Even Madam Yu.  (She pretended to hate it but I know she enjoyed being able to spend time with her kids without anything else going on. Even if she had to deal with me being there too.)

I’d been looking for a place for a while when I stumbled across this one. It isn’t the same one I went to as a kid. Actually I think this one’s even bigger. It had everything!! Music, food, a petting zoo, crafts and games and just everything! And an apple orchard out back! 

I kinda stayed there with my arms up, probably looking like the world’s stupidest scare crow. I was trying not to be disappointed because he looked… well more confused than anything. 

“It’s a pun. Get it? A Maize Maze. Corn Maze. Maize…. Pun…” 

He nodded at me (i finally put my arms down) and asked me what we were supposed to do. 

I’d thought it was a bit self-explanatory but then the poor man hadn’t even been to the movies before a couple of weeks ago. (We went together on one of our saturdates and it was wonderful)

So I started pointing out all the things we could do. There was the maze, of course, but also live music and the petting/feeding zoo. I pointed to the crafting section and the orchard and there was even a corn bath! 

I think.. He kinda broke at that. XD The look of a man who was completely lost. 

“A corn… bath?”

“Yeah it’s literally just a pit filled with corn.”

He gave me this LOOk then. Oh dear god I just wanted to kiss him. He looked so adorably perplexed. But he just nodded like he was accepting it. 

I started to lose confidence as I was talking about the apple orchard and the hay ride. 

I started to give him an out because clearly this was a horrible idea and of course he wouldn’t be interested in such a childish bunch of activities. I said we could leave if he wanted. 

He assured me that no it was fine and that he wanted to do all the activities with me. Told me he’d just never done anything like this before. I kinda knew that already but every time I realize how limited his childhood was it just breaks my heart.

TBC.

[littlepurinsesu]

V Watches MagiReco - Episode 13 Review

*Spoilers for Magia Record Anime Episode 13*

(This review will focus on Episode 13 only. I will be writing a separate review for the anime season as a whole!)

I have so many mixed feelings about this episode that I honestly don’t even know where to start LOL xD There are some parts that I hated and some that I loved, and so many reactions ranging from “WTH WAS THAT?!?” to “UH OKAY...” to “OMG YASSSSS!!!!!”

I’ll going to try my best to unpack my thoughts as coherently as possible, but this review will probably still end up being the most incoherent of them all because of all my mixed feelings for all the changes the anime made xD

To start, Mifuyu is definitely more antagonistic in the anime compared to what I remember of her in the game lol. And honestly I feel cheated that they always seem to tease us with some kind of confrontation between Yachiyo and Mifuyu, but the latter always summons that giant moon and escapes before anything can happen. It’s honestly a little anti-climactic and a bit of a waste, what with all the tension they’ve been building between these two, but then again, it doesn’t really happen in the game, either, so I guess it’s not really the anime’s fault for not “delivering” haha :P

Alright, since I’m going in chronological order, may as well get the biggest disappointment out of the way first: Iroha and Yachiyo’s argument. I don’t think I can even begin to put into words how utterly disappointed I was with this part, seeing as it was one of the most crucial plot points in the game and definitely one of Iroha’s most shining moments. Firstly, the way Yachiyo revealed her wish lacked emotion and impact for me. The music didn’t even change, and there was no sense of this being the revelation of a huge secret/mystery that the story has kept under wraps all this time. At least they added a nice flashback sequence to show Yachiyo’s past and the reasoning behind her wish, rather than having it all just come out of her mouth verbally, so props to them for that, but I was still quite unimpressed with the way they went about this pivotal moments.

Next up in my complaints is the Rumour. I was so, so, so ready to see my girl Iroha finally standing up and holding her own in a battle, especially considering how weak she’s been portrayed throughout the past 12 episodes. I was expecting an intense fight with the Rumour--some struggle, some more determination, anything. But no, another case of what I call the “one-shot curse”. Iroha literally just ran up to the Rumour, aimed her arrow, shot, and BAM it’s gone. One of the most crucial battles in the story lasted about 20 seconds in total (yes, I was so petty and pissed off that I went back and counted lmao), and the way Iroha suddenly “powered up” so drastically made no logical sense to me at all. We never even saw her gradually increase in power or fighting capability throughout the story so far. Heck, she’s hardly even done anything in the past battles, and suddenly she can one-shot a Rumour all by herself? How. Pray tell, how.

And the final major complaint that follows on from this chain of unhappy ranting: Iroha and Yachiyo solidifying their friendship. I did like the way the screen melted away to reveal Iroha standing in front of Yachiyo, almost like a mirror image. Sadly, that’s the only thing I liked about it LOL. Iroha getting angry at Yachiyo was such an important development and such a huge moment for our protagonist, but here it just... doesn’t happen? She’s still the same smiling and gentle Iroha we always knew. Which is nice and all, but in my opinion, we really needed to see kindhearted and soft-spoken Iroha truly snap. We needed to see Iroha speak up and tell Yachiyo to cut her bs and to declare herself the leader. And the way Yachiyo accepts so quickly and hardly even tries to put up an argument is just... I don’t even know what to say anymore apart from constantly question why they had to rush so many crucial moments, to the point where they had zero emotional impact. I often wonder if I’d still have these complaints if I didn’t play the game and have expectations of how I wanted/wished/expected certain things to be adapted. So I dunno, maybe I wouldn’t have a problem with these things at all if I went into the anime blind ^^;;

Oh, and another thing that made zero sense to me was how Iroha went from being perfectly normal to unable to walk or talk within the span of about two seconds. Logically, I get that she probably used up too much magic one-shot-ing that Rumour just before, but they could’ve at least had her show some signs of physical strain during her talk with Yachiyo so that the sudden transition of her physical state doesn’t feel so abrupt and out of nowhere. I guess this is a minor detail that I can let slide, but it just reminds the viewer again and again of the problems that come with rushing. And rushing for what? Well...

The second half of the episode is an obvious answer. They were clearly rushing these game-story moments to fill up the rest of the episode with anime-original content. And while I’m still bitter at what the cost was, I will ironically say that the second half of this week’s episode had some very pleasant and interesting surprises! (Apologies for all the salt and negativity so far ^^;; Finally, onto the positives!)

I’d been wondering for a while if we were going to meet Holy Mami this week, even though the anime had already established Mami as a member of the Wings of Magius earlier on. And I did genuinely like the way they portrayed Mami in this scene. She legitimately looks out of her mind at some points, and it’s clear that the truth about Magical Girls has taken a huge toll on her mentally. Her mini battle with Yachiyo was short but sweet, with lots of nice movements and imagery, especially this shot right here:

The ribbon concealing her eyes and her Soul Gem (aka her soul and her actual self) is a really, really nice way of depicting that Mami is not really in her right state of mind, and that her current actions aren’t really her. I know a lot of fans didn’t like the brainwashing thing in the game, and even though it looks like they’re still keeping that in the anime (judging by Mami’s behaviour, she definitely seems brainwashed to me), at least they’re portraying it in a nice way. By the way, I applaud Yachiyo for being able to defend herself against Mami for so long with a whole person on her back xD

Sayaka was probably my favourite thing out of the entire episode. Again, like with Holy Mami, I was really hoping we’d get to see her this week ^^ I loved how her entrance parallels the way she saved Homura from Mami in Rebellion, and I’m sure hardcore fans will pick up on that before her identity is even revealed ;) Sayaka was never my favourite character out of the Holy Quintet (even though I still liked her a lot!), but oh my gosh she was amazing in this episode. I think it’s something to do with the cape? Maybe it’s the cape LOL but gosh she really did seem like a knight-in-shining-armour askjfha;sj (♥ω♥*)

And back to Mami... that part with her losing her mind (literally) after Sayaka shows up was creepy but also perfect. I like that she seemed to temporarily regain her sense of self when talking to Sayaka, but then just the talk of her guilt and shame and everything just comes back to haunt her again, and we see her succumb and lose herself once more. I didn’t think her transformation into Holy Mami would be portrayed in this way, but this is better than what I imagined. You actually get a sense of how painful the process is, and feel how much against her will it is to fall to a point where she’d hurt her friends and other innocent people. The whole idea is disturbing, but each time I think back on her reaction to finding out the truth in the original anime, this really doesn’t seem too far-fetched at all.

That entire battle between Mami and Sayaka/Yachiyo was kind of cool and kind of weird at the same time xD Honestly I can’t imagine Sayaka and Yachiyo to be able to run around freely with that many bullets flying all over the place, much less repel all of them, which Sayaka is shown doing at one point xD Iroha using her Doppel again is another thing that I didn’t really like, though. I just really don’t like how Iroha is always shown to be utterly useless fighting in her Magical Girl form and always has to end up relying on her Doppel to do anything. (Except for that previous battle with the Rumour that I discussed just before. Let’s not get me started on that again lmao.) But it’s nice to see Yachiyo using her Doppel as well (it looked really cool!), and I really liked that minor detail about how easy it is to lose yourself when using your Doppel. It’s not something we think much about when playing the game because of the game mechanics, so it’s always interesting to think about what the Doppels entail from a story perspective :) Anyway, despite some logical inconsistencies and Iroha resorting to her Doppel yet again, I did really enjoy this battle, and it definitely made up for the lackluster “battle” that we got with Iroha and the Rumour. We can really see where the budget went this week, huh xD

I also really loved how Touka literally just sits there sipping tea and ignores all the chaos happening around her. She shows no desire to help Mami or step in just in case something happens to her (since Mami’s on their side now and all), which, to me, really goes to show how purely cold-hearted Touka is. Or has become. (Shhh game spoilers xD)

And while we’re on the topic of Touka, I’m going to talk about how much I absolutely adored that final scene. It’s hard to visualise it while playing the game, so seeing the scale of the Wings of Magius was possibly frightening. We’ve always known that there are heaps of Feathers, but just seeing them all packed together in one big creepy dark hall, all cloaked and hooded, really goes to show the immense size of this cult. It’s not just some small club created by a few girls. The scale of this cult is insane. As for Touka’s speech? Inspirational. And I say that with full knowledge of the Magius’ crimes and wrongdoings. Honestly, with the way she speaks, I can’t imagine many Magical Girls being able to say no and walk away if they knew The Truth already. Touka is one amazing and charismatic speaker, and even though we’ve always known that she had to be to some extent to get so many Feathers, seeing it in action was truly a different experience. Terrifyingly persuasive and frighteningly charismatic, that child.

And that is why I applaud Rena. She’s able to stand among so fellow Magical Girls, listen to someone preach about salvation after literally just finding out the truth and learning about her own inevitable fate, not know of the dark side of the Magius, and still be able to walk away. Rena gained a new level of respect from me with that one simple decision, and I already loved her heaps before this. And Kaede really did join the Wings of Magius, huh :O We even got a shot of Kuroe! Welcome back (?), girl! xD

I quite liked how they showed the rest of Team Mikazuki joining in such a subtle way. It’s much more impactful to tease it like this rather than straight-up showing you the process of them joining right from the get-go. The way they end the season like this leaves a very haunting and unsettling feeling, especially considering that Iroha gets taken away from Yachiyo as well! Now that definitely wasn’t in the game!!! xD I was expecting the season to finish with Iroha and Yachiyo back at Mikazuki Villa alone and swearing to save the rest of the team, so this definitely came as a HUGE surprise to me. I’m really curious as to how they’re going to go about this change, as well as the change with Kaede joining up and the obvious Kuroe thing. (Btw Sayaka literally sweeping Yachiyo away like Prince Charming almost had me swooning LOL Sayaka was seriously SO COOL in this episode!)

And finally, we have Alina. I’m honestly still pissed off at how they handled her introduction, and wonder if anime-only fans can even tell that she’s a Magius and not just a Feather or some other kind of position (like Mifuyu), but I did enjoy the final scene of her. I think it makes it quite clear that Alina is going to be one of the Biggest Bosses, even among the antagonists, and the way she name-drops Walpurgisnacht was not what I expected but a pretty good decision, in retrospect. Anime-only fans will definitely feel that sense of familiarity they want just by hearing that name. Since this Witch is so iconic to the original anime and we probably won’t be seeing her until the very end of the next season, I think it was a nice idea to drop the name here to keep those anime-fans who expect lots of explicit PMMM references happy and hooked. In fact, the combination of Holy Mami and Sayaka’s appearance and the mention of Walpurgisnacht all in one episode makes me think they packed them all into the season finale to ensure that these anime-only PMMM fans will be back again for the next season (since us game players will almost definitely be back anyway haha xD).

Oh, and that ending song is so good! I loved “Alicia”, but this song was a really nice way to end the season and had a definite kind of “season finale” feel to it.

So yeah, that basically sums up my thoughts for this jam-packed episode xD Lots of stuff I feel could have been handled A LOT better, but also a lot of stuff that was absolutely amazing. The second half was significantly better than the first; that fight with Holy Mami and the ending with Touka and Alina were definitely the best parts.

I’ll be writing up another review post for the season as a whole and posting it separately, so I’ll end this one here and save my overall impressions for that one ^^ If you’ve read to the end, thanks so much for reading and I hope to see you there as well ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

[halfbloodglader]

A Heavy Burden - Gally

Gally x reader - 2,708 words

Request; hey! can u write a gally fic where he likes the reader but is too shy to tell her...some of the other gladers find out and in order to stop them from saying anything gally makes a deal of some sort where he gets beat up every night? It goes on a while but the reader finds him?

lol this one is kinda long. Poor Gally awh man. Just tryna be happy and protect other people

Nothing made sense to him—why he was so angry all the time, irritated by the most minuscule of things and thrown emotionally overboard every time he tried to sleep. Gally wondered if he'd ever feel normal. Though, he also questioned if normal was a thing a person could feel because ever since showing up here three years ago, it certainly wasn't something he'd ever experienced.

Gally walked in the shadow of his peers. He followed in their footsteps, seemingly a mile behind, always calling out to them but nobody ever heard him.

Walking in that empty space between the other Gladers and himself was Y/N. The one person here Gally had fallen in love with at a distance without saying anything. In complete silence, he'd fallen for the kind, selfless and mischievous glader. She herself had reached out and said more hellos to Gally than he'd been brave enough to wave across the Glade back at her. The few conversations they exchanged were short, awkward and blunt. That didn't stop her from always being caring toward him, though. Somedays, she'd bring him water. Others, she'd spend her evening staining the wood he never finished during the day.

Sure, she did these sorts of things for lots of other people. But she was the only one who did those sorts of things for him. The only one here who treated him like he was human.

Maybe, he was completely swept off in his own imagination. He had hopes and dreams that were more than likely beyond unrealistic. What else though, was he supposed to do with these feelings? He was trapped in a stone box with no memory of his former life or hope for a future. Escaping into his imagination and having one single positive part of his day, or person, to think of made life bearable.

Said life though, had gotten a lot worse the past few weeks.

Gally's biggest current regret was not having gone to find Y/N that day she had called out for him. He'd been a coward and hid in the deadheads from her instead of going to find out what it was she wanted him for. Staying in those woods landed him in a far worse situation than he could have ever imagined.

That day, instead of going after Y/N, he hid in the woods with some paper and a pencil. He hid amongst the trees and found his peace in the silence and cold from the fading sun. Of all things to keep his mind off of its own ongoing war, he drew Y/N. Simple drawings, pictures such as the girl with a soft smile crossing her features. Or, her helping Newt in the gardens.

Harmless sketches of this girl who he hardly spoke to on the daily but the thought of her held off that heaviness on his heart. Everyday, the impossibly strong grasp someone or something had on his heart which tried to bend him over forward into to the dirt got stronger. But the few hours of peace he'd spend alone drawing were the moments he felt as if that force dragging him down took a slight break.

That night, Gally was shaken to reality by the sound of boys whispering and trampling over leaves and twigs. They were close. Too close. In a panic, Gally tossed the papers on the ground and kicked as much dirt and debris over them as he could. His efforts probably weren't enough and he knew it.

"Gally!" One of the guys gibed. "We were wondering why you weren't a dinner!"

The builder raised his brows and took a breath. "Don't kid yourselves, you didn't even notice I was gone."

The boy and his fellow slicers snickered.

"Well, he's not wrong." Another added.

Gally rolled his eyes and went to walk away. These slicers had always been out to cause trouble and they weren't worth his time. He wanted out before something boiled up.

"Woah man," The loudest, most aggravating of the boys called out to Gally. "What's this?"

He plucked the papers out of the dirt with stringy fingers and held them up in the dim light. A disturbing smile smeared the moment he recognized the face on the paper. Then, he looked up to Gally and the builder knew he was done for. That heavy weight in his chest completely went away and was replaced by a sickness in his stomach.

Sauntering toward him, Gally felt like he stood in place for hours. His heart was trying to escape.

"Now Gally, I want you to be honest." The boy smirked and flipped the paper around so Gally could see. "Are you an artist and none of us knew? Or is this something you stole from someone else because, y'know, you needed it for something?"

His friends laughed. "Or, maybe both?" He eyed Gally up and down.

The gaze burned at his skin. It was painful. His lungs were creaming and heart was sobbing.

"Fine, I draw. That's it." Gally snapped, his voice breaking. "Now forget about it."

"Oh!" The slicer howled. "You think we're just gonna let you off? What do you think, should we tell her? Show everyone your little secret? How do you think Alby will feel?"

"I don't—"

Stepping closer, the slicer held up the paper right to Gally's face and pointed to Y/N. "I bet she'll be scared as hell of you now."

Gally closed his eyes. He never wanted this to happen. All he wanted was a break for his soul. And sure, drawing someone without their permission wasn't the best way to go about dealing with his problems, but it was all he knew.

"Don't tell anyone." Gally pleaded. "I'll do anything."

"Anything?" The guy questioned, surprised. That was a bold move, even coming from Gally. "There's a lot I would ask, but I don't want trouble with Alby..."

He thought for a while. He conversed with his friends. Ultimately, he decided.

"Alright," He shoved the paper against Gally's chest. Immediately, he put it in his pocket. "I want to see how long it takes to break the toughest looking guy here. Every night, you're going to meet us here. We're going to beat you to the ground."

Gally took what he was saying as fact. As part of his life now. It was his only way out.

Stepping closer, the slicer picked up a large stick and swung it back and forth. "Don't worry, we won't leave bruises on your face. Only where they can't see."

"...Don't say anything, and we won't say anything either." He looked to Gally questioningly.

"Deal." He quavered.

Gally braced himself for the first hit.

That began three weeks ago.

He thought about what had happened that night as he lay on the burning cold ground. It burned because his skin felt like it was on fire from all of the hits it had taken. It felt cold because the ground quite literally was cold, seeing as he'd been here all night and dawn had just broken.

His body couldn't be brought to its feet this morning. He'd been getting beaten up for three weeks straight. But, he had to keep to his word and not let anyone know. They couldn't know. It would destroy how everyone here perceived him and his reputation. The reputation that made everyone else keep their distance was something he wanted to keep.

"Oh shit!" A quiet voice snapped as the faint footsteps Gally was hearing came to an immediate halt.

The fear of a body laying unmoving the woods at dawn apparently wasn't enough to stop this person though, because they came rushing to his side. He knew who it was the moment they crashed to their knees right in front of his eyes and put their hands on his face.

"Gally! Are you okay? What's going on?" She shuddered as she felt his forehead for signs of illness.

Unable to speak or move, Gally was just able to lift his arm enough to gently point to his side. His eyes were glued shut from the agony of moving his arm and all he hoped was that she caught on. If anyone were to find him like this, he wasn't exactly enthused it was Y/N, but he needed help and he knew it.

Carefully, the girl lifted his shirt to find a black and blue bruised body. There were wounds new and old still seeping blood. His breaths were shallow, so it was evident he had broken ribs.

"Oh shuck. Don't move. I'll be right back." She sprinted off fasted then he'd ever seen her run. That said a lot because she was fast.

Between the time she'd run off and now, Gally had passed out, probably for the better, and been moved to the medjacks. He'd just woken, but chose to keep his eyes closed for a while longer. He wasn't yet ready to face the world again.

"This doesn't look like it happened just last night. These wounds are layered, some of them a couple weeks old at least." Jeff muttered to Alby.

Alby ran a hand over his head. "Could he have been hurting himself?"

"No," Jeff shook his head. "These couldn't be self inflicted. Someone did it. Someone has been hurting him for a long time."

"Let me know when he wakes up." Alby demanded. "I'm going to find Newt."

Knowing he'd left, Gally slowly opened his eyes. The sun was evidently now fully risen as the medjack hut was well lit and warm. He blinked a few times and the headache crushing his skull was so overbearing he could hear himself blink.

When he turned his head to the side slightly, he was met with a wide-eyed, speechless Y/N. "You're o—"

Y/N's face suddenly fell. "Who did this?"

Her expression changed extremely quick. It went from relief to vexation in a split second.

Gally didn't want to answer that to her. What he could do though, was reach down for that crumpled paper he'd kept with him since the first night. He agonizingly grabbed it and held it up for the girl to take. That one single move required all of the energy he had inside of himself and was more painful than he'd hoped.

At this point, he didn't care anymore. He'd been trying to keep it a secret and was afraid that if Y/N found out how he spent his free time, she'd be disgusted and afraid of him. Besides, he tried to tell himself, that if he really knew the real Y/N, there was no way she'd judge him for this. Y/N wasn't that kind of person.

The girl took it gingerly and unravelled it. A small smile, one Gally knew all too well, lightened her features as she scanned over the paper. "Gally, you're amazing."

The next she looked up, Gally's eyes were already shut and his breathing had steadied. He'd fallen back asleep. For now, she had to let him rest. When he woke though, Y/N was going to be a part of finding out who had done this to him.

Alby and Newt fell into the medjack hut just a little too late. Newt sighed in agony when he saw his friend.

"Did he tell you anything?" Alby asked, putting a hand on Gally's bed.

"No," Y/N shook her head. "He gave me this though. It might have something to do with it."

Newt took the paper and smiled. "Who would've guessed he was such a good drawer." He then passed it off to Alby.

"I think I know who did it." Alby grimaced at the paper. "A few weeks ago, I heard some of the slicers talking about some 'stupid drawings' and then they mentioned Gally over dinner."

Vexed, Alby gave Newt back the paper and turned on his heel as fast as he could.

"Woah!" Newt called out. "You're not going to accuse some boys of a bloody mess like this before we hear it from Gally first. We wait here until he wakes up."

With a deep breath, Newt continued. "He's safe here until then."  

Hours had passed before Gally found himself waking again. The medjack hut had begun to cool off and Gally felt the hair on his arms raise from the chill running down his spine. He wanted to get up, move and finally get some food. No injury or illness in the world could stave off Gally's hollow leg.

Slowly, the boy raised himself to a sitting position. He felt lighter despite the fact his body was close to disintegrating. Curious, he lifted his shirt to see the massacre that had been committed on his body.  It was just as bad as he'd guessed. The past few weeks, he'd refused to look at it but now was the time. The sight made him sick but the moment he let his shirt down, he forgot about it.

Taking a few deep breaths, Gally prepped himself to stand. He was going to get up and out of this cramped room and face whatever it was outside of that door. Luckily for him, he wouldn't have to do it alone.

Just as he swept his legs over the edge of the bed, a pair of soft eyes peered around the corner into the room Gally was in.

"Hi." She whispered.

Gally smiled sadly. "Hi, Y/N."

"I thought you might be getting cold," She said as she stepped into the room with one of Gally's hoodies. "And thought you might be starving, so I came to ask if you wanted to have dinner with me?"

She paused. "I mean, come get dinner. With all of us. The normal. I don't know what I'm saying."

"That sounds good to me," He tried to laugh but stopped himself from the ache in his ribs. "I'd like to have dinner with you for once."

Y/N smiled awkwardly and handed Gally his hoodie. And though he tried, there was no way Gally was getting it onto his body. In sympathy, Y/N finally reached out and took the pile of fabric back. She reoriented it and then put it over his head and guiding it over his shoulders. By that point, he was able to get his arms in the sleeves and stand himself up.

Slowly, Y/N helped him out of the medjack hut. The air hit him in the face with a startling force. This was the time of day he'd normally head off to the deadheads to meet his nightmare. Y/N noticed him tense.

"You okay?" She asked.

Gally looked down to the girl and blinked a few times. "Yeah."

Y/N locked her arm with his to help hold his balance. "You don't have to worry, alright? There's a bunch of people looking out for you right now."

Gally walked alongside Y/N at a deathly slow pace. Partly because it really did hurt that much to walk and because he wanted to make this moment last as long as possible. "What did Alby do? How much does everyone know?"

"He hasn't done anything yet, me and Newt made sure of that." Y/N explained to dampen his worries. "No one else knows. Alby told them all you came down with a nasty bug. We're going to make sure this stays between the few of us and that's it."

"Thank you, really." Gally said. "It almost feels like you guys know me. Know I wouldn't want the others to find out."

Y/N stopped walking for a moment and made Gally look at her. "It's because we do know you. You're our friend, Gally. And we respect how you feel."

"You think I'm your friend?" He questioned self-consciously.

"Are you crazy?" Y/N scoffed. "Of course. It sucks we don't spend more time together."

"Well, I had a reason for the past few weeks." He admitted. Y/N nodded in agreement with that. "But maybe we can change that now? Once all of this blows over."

Y/N smiled lightly and Gally took that as a yes. He still had a lot to worry about as this whole situation got sorted out. Now though, he realized that he did have people on his side. People he could trust.

[movedvalkyriesryde]

Place Your Bets 7/?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Money is on the line and the months are counting down so who will win in the bet to when Bucky and Y/N finally get together? And will they figure out what’s exactly going on

Warnings: Swears, references to sex

A/N: this began as me trying to write an angsty multi part but I’ve accepted that it’s actually a full blown comedy and I’m sorry but also I’m not lol

Word Count: 2,330ish

Masterlist

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Steve opened his mouth but nothing came out, he rubbed his hand over his face, trying to push back the smile that was trying to break through. Bucky sat patiently in his seat watching as Steve leaned forward and started typing on his computer. 

“Would you stop working for once in your life,” Bucky couldn’t help but raise his voice, he was all but freaking out right about now, “I’ve just fucked up and you’re sitting there doing your emails!”

“Well you fucked something,” Steve definitely couldn’t hold in his laughter any longer.

Before Bucky could get a word out, the door to Steve’s office swung open and a red faced Sam ran in and slammed it shut behind him.

“ONE WEEK!!!” Sam yelled as he paced the office. Bucky looked questionably at Steve who was largely amused by Sam’s antics. “SEVEN DAYS - YOU GET THAT SHIT EATING GRIN OFF YOUR FACE ROGERS!!” Sam fell into the chair beside Bucky, quickly turning his attention from Steve and back to Bucky. “SEVEN FUCKING DAYS YOU COULDN’T KEEP YOUR DICK IN YOUR PANTS!!!” 

Bucky rubbed the spot on his chest where Sam had smacked his hand. 

“How do you already - Steve what the hell I JUST told you!” But Steve wasn’t listening, he was much too busy trying to control his breathing and stop his fit of laughter.

Sam crossed his arms tightly and mumbled to himself about how this was “absolute bs - can’t believe I lost - so fucking close” Bucky had no idea what was going on, to him, all that was going on was he had stuffed up any chance he had with Y/N by being a desperate drunk and, in response, his best friends were laughing at him. 

“Sorry, sorry” Steve began to compose himself as he saw Bucky’s face fall, “look, Buck, you didn’t screw up.” Bucky rolled his eyes and stayed quiet.

“Wait what are you talking about?” Steve’s comment was enough for Sam to quit complaining, he sat up straighter and turned between the two men confused.

“We were drunk Sam,” Bucky leaned forward and put his head in his hands as he told Sam and Steve about the night before, “I wasn’t thinking, I just kissed her and I - oh god why did I say that!” Bucky stayed there with his head in his hands shaking it slightly as he went on about saying the wrong thing, why did he have to say that?!?

“Say what?”

“What?” Bucky’s head shot up, he wasn’t sure if he should tell them or not. Bucky’s reputation was that he was a hard shell that nothing could get through, if Sam found out that he had practically begged Y/N to pretend he was the guy she liked he would never hear the end of it. He needed as much help as he could get at this point though.

“What did you say Buck?”

“Uhh nothing, I mean ya know we were drunk and so there was some drunk dirty talk and that’s kind of embarrassing. That’s all.” Steve and Sam raised their eyes at Bucky as he fumbled over his words, “now are you going to help me fix it or what?” He couldn’t do it, if he did he would have to explain her birthday wish, he promised he wouldn’t tell and he would keep that promise. 

“You were drunk?” Sam asked, a small smile on his face.

“Yea”

“And she was drunk?”

“Yes Sam that’s the fucking problem! We were both drunk!” Bucky rubbed his face in frustration, this was not helping.

“Drunk sex doesn’t count,” Sam smiled widely at Steve who wore a shocked expression.

“Yes it does!” Steve shot back. 

“Nooo they didn’t do it because they like each other!” Sam stood to his feet and shot an accusing finger at Steve. “They did it because they were HORNY! HA” 

“That still counts!” Steve stood up and fired back as Bucky just watched his friends with an open mouth.

“Would you two shut up!” He yelled, “I feel like I’m having two conversations here and I’ve no idea what either of you are on about!!” 

The two arguing men lowered into their seats, they shared a look, a silent conversation while Bucky went back to holding his head in his hands again. This was that conversation;

“Do we tell him?” Asked Sam.

“It’s over, he’s allowed to know,” replied Steve.

“Drunk sex doesn’t count!” Sam narrowed his eyes.

“This is more important than the bet,” Steve raised his eyebrows.

“Fine.”

“Bucky?” Steve leaned forward, “there’s something you should know.”

“But promise you won’t get mad,” Sam added quickly.

“What is it now, you gonna tell me she doesn’t actually like me, I already know that.” Bucky threw his hands in the air and looked at Steve who took a deep breath.

“We’ve been betting on when you and Y/N would start dating.” he rushed out in one breath.

“Or sleep together, whichever comes first,” Sam added again just as quickly as Steve. Bucky’s eyes widened at the new information, his face showing pure shock as his head moved frantically from Sam to Steve and back again. 

“YOU WHAT?!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Y/N moved slowly around the laundry room, moving piles of clothes into other piles of clothes and into the machine. She reached for the water bottle by her feet and gulped down as much as she could. Her mouth was dry from the night before, but luckily her head wasn’t too sore. She’d sobered up enough by the time she went to sleep to avoid a hangover. 

She wasn’t quite sure what to think about the night before. As soon as she had woken up and realised she was alone her mind started running with images of the night before, images of Bucky, so she busied herself with whatever she could find. First was one of the quickest showers she’d ever taken, then she changed her sheets, cleaned her desk and vacuumed the entire room. Now she was finishing up putting on the laundry and she was starting to run out of ideas. 

“The kitchen,” she mumbled to herself, pressing the start button on the machine and running out to the communal kitchen. 

When Y/N entered there was no one around, it was a day off in the compound, as per usual after someone’s birthday so everyone had taken the opportunity to sleep in or get things done. She immediately began unloading the dishwasher and then moved to wipe down the countertops. 

“If this is how you deal with a hangover then you should be classed as a god” Wanda walked in yawning and moved to make herself a much needed cup of coffee, Vision and Nat trailed in after her and began making their own food and drink.

“Not hungover, just taking opportunity of the day off,” Y/N answered quietly and slowed her movements. 

Natasha groaned as her phone continued to buzz and ping every few seconds, “shut up” she muttered before turning it onto silent and rolled her eyes at Wanda who just laughed.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The kitchen had quickly become too crowded for Y/N’s liking, not only was she trying to block out the thoughts in her head but everyone had been chatting loudly and it was slowly giving her a headache. That’s what brought her into the gym and onto the treadmill. No one was around when she started the treadmill, the only sounds were the whirring of the machine, a part of Y/N was thankful for that, it seemed to be grounding her, making it easier to collect her thoughts in the moment. 

So here’s the gist, Y/N and Bucky had had sex, somewhat drunk, but incredible sex. That much she was sure off. She was also sure that there would be no mistake that both of them remembered what had happened, that part was important. The thing Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about, apart from the obvious image of Bucky naked and in her bed, was what he had said before they’d even kissed. 

His words continued to play over in her mind, ‘I can be him’ he had said, ‘pretend I’m him’. She knew who he was talking about, well not knew, but she could take a guess, it was unknowingly himself. Bucky was talking about himself because he thought that she liked someone that didn’t liked her back, because that’s what she had told him. At the time, she was telling the truth, she thought he didn’t like her back, but after last night she wasn’t quite sure what Bucky’s feelings were. She thought that was crazy, there had to be another explanation for all of this. There’s no way Bucky had any feelings for her, they’d barely spoken outside of missions, he never gave her the light of day! 

Maybe he felt sorry for her? Maybe that’s all this was, he felt sorry for her. As Y/N’s pace slowed to a halt and she wiped the sweat from her face with a towel she decided two things; the first decision she made was that she wasn’t going to tell anybody about this until after she knew exactly what and why it had happened. Her second decision, her and Bucky needed to talk and they needed to talk as soon as possible. 

With a small nod to herself she turned from the treadmill and made her way to the door to find Bucky walking in. 

“Uh hey,” Bucky let the bag drop off of his shoulder as Y/N nodded a quiet hello. She made a point to keep her head low while taking an extra step around him towards the exit. 

As soon as she got around the door and into the elevator she leaned her back against the back wall and let out a long breath. Seeing Bucky had taken her breath away, quite literally, all of her thoughts about the night before disappeared and she just wanted to run up to him and kiss him again like they had last night. But that’s not what was needed, they needed to talk about what had happened and to do that easily she needed to come up with exactly what she was going to say before she went and said it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Right so we’re seven to three then are we?” Tony leaned against the counter in the kitchen as his teammates were spread across the room in similar positions. Steve, Wanda and Natasha stood together as they shook their heads at the outcome.

“You can’t be serious right?” Steve threw his hands in the air, “this wasn’t in the rules.” That started up the rest of the team’s arguments again, it seemed like both had good points to make. 

In one corner, Steve’s corner, we have the argument that, in fact, the terms that were set only stated that the pair had to sleep together for someone to win, which was true. They also argued that the action of Bucky and Y/N sleeping together would ultimately lead to them talking and confessing their feelings for each other anyway. So therefore, Steve should win.

In the other corner, lead by Sam, there was the argument that intoxicated sex does not, and should not, count. The reasoning? Well it started with Sam yelling ‘BECAUSE THEY WERE JUST HORNY’! But that was quickly followed by, surprisingly, Tony stepping in and claiming that, because of the pair’s intoxication, there was no way to determine whether or not they were in the right headspace. He stated that ‘you said it yourself Steve, Bucky said they were drunk and he wasn’t thinking’ and that seemed to be enough to persuade more of the team. Bringing the final vote to; three in Steve’s corner (counting Steve) and seven in Sam’s (counting Sam).

“So that’s that, the bet is still on, drunk sex doesn’t count,” Sam said with a sigh.

“I guess so,” spoke Steve.

Y/N stepped back from the corner with her mouth agape and her eyes wide. Her friends were betting on when her and Bucky would sleep together! What the hell! How long had this been going on for? Did Bucky know? Was that why he did it?!? She heard movement from the kitchen and quickly darted back towards the elevator and pressed the button to go back towards the gym. 

Fuck coming up with a speech she thought as she marched back into the gym to see Bucky sitting on one of the benches. She needed answers now.

“Bucky,” he turned around as soon as he heard her walk in, Y/N marched towards him, only stopping just before she reached his legs, “were you aware that our friends are betting on us sleeping together?” Good, straight to the point, don’t give him any opportunity to get out of it. 

Bucky raised his eyebrows before realising she must have overheard Steve and Sam arguing like how he had left them.

“Uh, yea,” his eyes locked onto his hands, “but I swear I only found out this morning!” He quickly stood up and reached out for Y/N’s arms as he searched her face. 

“You promise?” she whispered.

“I promise. It’s just Sam and Steve I swear.” Though not true, it’s what Bucky was told, and Y/N had only heard the two men as well.

“Well, they’ve come to a decision,” she said, Bucky stepped back slightly, letting go of Y/N’s arms and nodding his head. “Drunk sex doesn’t count.”

Bucky scratched the back of his neck, a quiet okay coming out before he sat back down. “Next week is Sam’s month, the bet isn’t just us sleeping together, the other option is going on a date,” he noted.

“I guess we get to pick who wins then don’t we?” a smirk began to appear on Y/N’s face as Bucky looked up at her.

“What are you thinking?” a small smile started to spread across his face as well. 

“Well Sergeant Barnes, who would you like to win?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

and a big thank you for reading! Let me know what you think and requests are open!

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine

Taglist (open): @little-brown-foxx @ibookishqueen @jacelynenursalim @buckyos @marcelaverzani @winters-history @happywobble @allonszassbutt @wiplop @pantamemes @emotionallysalty @jsmith509 @acf2510 @ashleyhearto @starklokison @annimalq @cautiouscalum @gabyer0309 @rorynne @tuliptx @redmachetecrossbow27 @sleepingspacedragon

[izzy-b-hands]

Whisper

Prompt-Kiss: Fingers 

From the DL discord server Bingo Card I was given (thank you to the folks on there for this; I’m loving the prompts I got!) 

Set in about 1976 because...no real reason other than I wanted it to be lol. 

Did not exactly intend on this going smutty and romantic, but here we are all the same! That said, it is a bit NSFW! 

Haven’t written for this ship before (Maycury I think is the ship name?) and as always when I do write things like this (like w/my Sledgefu stuff) it is written solely as a work of fun and fiction, with no ill intent meant towards the actual folks. I think p much all of y’all that read my work know that already, but since this is my first fic like this, I felt it was better to note the disclaimer, just to be safe!

Also this song works for so many of my more romantic fics, but I borrowed the title of it to title this fic and it vibes v well with this piece, so give it a listen! 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“Are you going to stare at me the entire time?” Brian laughed. 

“Would you hate it if I did?” Freddie asked back with a smile. 

It was just the two of them in the rehearsal space; Roger and John had gone to get food since they’d managed to completely forget about lunch, and had only now broken for a late dinner. 

Despite that, the room felt incredibly full. Of tension, rather than people this time, but neither one of them were addressing it. 

Because really, how did you address something like this? 

The kiss had been brief, last week, during a night out with all of them plus the crew for the next tour. A ‘get to know you’ sort of night, so the drinking had been minimal, and by the time they’d walked everyone else home, they were both stone cold sober. 

Which was maybe what had made it more surprising. If they had been drunk, it could have been brushed off. An accident. An outburst of a mash of feelings, taken out via affection with the closest trusted person. 

But that wasn’t what it had been. It had been a deliberate, slow, move to duck into the alley just before Brian’s home, to kiss hard enough that Freddie ended up backed against the brick wall, hands looped around Brian’s shoulders, fingers tangled delicately in his curls. To be out of breath enough that there was, for a second, the muttered question from Brian asking if Freddie wanted him to come home with him, if he would have him go home with him. 

But then the moment had broken and reality had come crashing back in, and Freddie had finished dropping Brian off at home with both of them blushing brightly enough that it was easily seen despite the darkness. 

And now, this. The not exactly uncomfortable tension, but tension that needed addressing and relief all the same. 

“I don’t suppose I would,” Brian replied. “If it makes you happy to watch me, go for it.” 

He wasn’t playing anything in particular, just bouncing around from idea to idea, threading them together into something that perhaps wouldn’t be cohesive enough for a radio single, but that was beautiful to hear all the same. 

“That’s lovely,” Freddie murmured as he leaned against the back of his chair. “No idea how we could use it, but I like it.” 

“Which part?” 

“All of it.” 

Brian smiled. “I don’t think the other two would want it in anything. How would we add them into it?” 

“I don’t know,” Freddie admitted. “But you’ll have to do something with it when we let you solo. The fans will like it.” 

Brian shook his head. “I don’t know. Too much of my fingers flying about, not enough to keep their attention.” 

“I think they like watching your fingers move as much as the music they make,” Freddie said. The ‘and I do too’ went unsaid. 

But Brian blushed anyway, as if he’d somehow found a way to hear it in Freddie’s head. “You sound like Chrissie. She says that’s what the girls all watch.” 

“Not just the girls,” Freddie said, meaning it much more nonchalantly than how it came out. The room was starting to feel unbearably warm. 

“I’ve noticed,” Brian said, but his head raised to meet Freddie’s gaze before he could turn away. “It’s really nice, all the attention. From whoever it comes from, you know?” 

Freddie nodded, biting back the thousands of things he wanted to actually say. “Makes you feel special, standing up there, all those eyes on you.” 

“Something like that,” Brian said. His fingers had slowed in their playing, but the tune was as beautiful as before. “Off-stage, too.” 

The urge to stand up and deposit himself in Brian’s lap (after carefully removing the Red Special, of course) was ridiculously strong, but he fought it. One kiss didn’t mean anything. One kiss was nothing, a mistake, a moment meant to be history-

“You know,” Brian interrupted his train of thought. “I’ve always thought about the playing about some singers have done with their guitarists, do you know what I mean?”

“Not exactly, no,” Freddie replied, though he had ideas rapidly running through his head. “What do you mean?” 

“When they have their teeth all in the way,” Brian laughed. “How do I describe it better? On their knees, mouth right over the strings...” 

Freddie knew exactly what he meant, and exactly what that action was meant to simulate, and he knew exactly how to say it so Brian would know he was on the same page. 

But the tension was at a breaking point, and that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as showing him that he knew what Brian meant.

“I think I’ve got it,” Freddie said, and stood up from his chair, motioning for Brian to do the same. “Go on, do your thing. I’ll try it, and you tell me if I’ve got it right.” 

Brian stood, strumming slowly, eyes locked onto Freddie as he approached. 

“So, in the middle of it all,” he said softly. “I drop down like this.” 

He dropped to his knees as carefully as he could in front of Brian; the floor was not soft but it hardly mattered at the moment. 

“And go like this,” he moved so his lips were just over Brian’s hand. “But faster, more violent when we’re onstage, right?” 

Brian made a sharp noise that sounded like yes, but more like a whimper. 

He wanted so much to happen right then. For Brian to set aside the Red Special so he could get to doing something else while he was on his knees, for Brian’s hand to gently grasp at the back of his head (and it would be gentle, Brian didn’t have it in him to be too rough, he was certain, and that wasn’t a bad thing at all, it was sweet.) To lock the door to the room so they couldn’t be interrupted when Roger and John returned (because he was hungry, but not for food anymore.) 

But he fought it again, and instead pressed a soft kiss to Brian’s fingers as he stopped strumming. 

And that was what finally made the tension break. 

Brian moved quickly, setting the Red Special carefully aside on its stand by his chair, then pulled Freddie to his feet. 

“I need to have a talk with Chrissie, don’t I?” he murmured and settled his hands on Freddie’s hips.

Freddie nodded. 

“I’m not as straight as I thought I was, am I?” 

Freddie shrugged. “I can’t say yay or nay on that for you, darling. Only you can. But if I had to give you an opinion-” 

The crush of Brian’s lips against his interrupted him, and he longed desperately for another brick wall to be pushed up to. Leaning more against Brian, letting him hold him up and close was fine enough, but his legs were absolutely shaky in the most wonderful way even so, and he didn’t relish the idea of literally melting and falling all over Brian. 

“They’ll be back before we know it,” he gasped when Brian finally gave him more than a moment to catch his breath. “We could continue this-” 

“In the tapes closet,” Brian nodded. “Good idea.” 

He had actually meant to say later, figuring that’s what Brian would be more comfortable with. “Brian May, you continue to surprise me. Fucking in the tapes closet, not what I thought I’d hear you suggesting.” 

“Maybe not fucking,” Brian admitted. “But only because I want to do that right, in a bed. And with more time, because god knows I don’t really know what I’m doing here, and I barely know what I’m doing with women, and god how on earth am I going to talk to Chrissie about this, how do I start that conversation and-” 

Freddie kissed him gently. “Breathe. We’ll figure that all out later. For now, there’s a closet, and I would very much like to be in it with you, doing whatever all you’re comfortable doing in there.” 

Brian nodded, and took him by the hand to the closet. “Thank god this thing has a lock.” 

“Thank god Roger locked himself in here once already, otherwise we might have never known until now that it did lock,” Freddie said. “I didn’t think that knowledge would be useful like that, but here we are!” 

It was incredibly dark, and instead of calming Brian it had given him the giggles as he wrapped his arms around Freddie again. 

“Are you alright?” 

It was adorable, the soft little giggles, the feeling of Brian’s head dropping to his shoulder. “I am. Just...a lot running through my head at the moment. Going a million miles a minute.” 

“Isn’t that the usual speed?” Freddie smiled, and let himself take over, pressing kisses to Brian’s neck, a hand pushing his curls out of the way. 

“Might normally be only a thousand,” Brian said, then sighed delightfully. “Slowing down some now, I’m rather happily distracted.” 

“Good,” Freddie said. “Allow me to distract you more, if you’d like.” 

“I would very much like,” Brian said, then gasped at the sound of the door to the room opening. “Fuck.” 

“No, you said later for that,” Freddie whispered. “I think it would be best if I showed exactly what that little move with your guitar is meant to simulate, don’t you? So we can do it more effectively onstage.” 

“But-” 

“If you don’t want me to,” Freddie said. “I’ll stop. We can go back out. There’s no rush, and if you’re uncomfortable with this while they’re out there, then we don’t have to do anything. Just say the word.” 

He could hear John and Roger, baffled, talking with each other and questioning where on earth he and Brian had gone. For another moment, there was only silence and the sound of them. 

“Don’t stop,” Brian said. “I can be quiet. I think. I’m going to try to be, at least.” 

“Truthfully, I’d love to hear you be loud, and I fully intend to hear that later,” Freddie said as he got down to his knees and undid Brian’s trousers. “But for now, that would probably be best, if you can be quiet.” 

“Oh my god, is this the worst thing you think anyone’s done in here?” Brian fussed, even as he slipped his cock out from his underwear. 

“Oh Brian,” Freddie sighed, then licked a stripe up Brian’s hard cock. “This is probably one of the most innocent things anyone has done in this closet. And that’s counting Roger, who claims he had a wank while he was locked in here. But he may have been making that up just to to get on me about that time, I don’t know for sure how true that is.” 

Brian nodded, then clapped a hand over his mouth as Freddie swallowed him down fully. 

He gave Brian a warning glance that he knew he likely couldn’t see, but at the moment it was all he could manage with his mouth preoccupied. 

Besides that, it was fun to feel Brian squirm, to hear the tiny whines that escaped as he sucked his cock, the needy whimpers when he paused to kiss the barely available bare skin of Brian’s hip. He doubted Roger and John were paying enough attention hear them (in fact, it sounded like they’d started practicing again with just themselves), but the idea that they might was wickedly wonderful. 

It was only another minute or two before Brian was gently tapping at his shoulder, and he knew why. It wasn’t every single time that he felt like swallowing, but if there was ever a time to put in the effort and take someone as deep as he could while they came, it was certainly here with Brian. 

“Fucking christ,” Brian whimpered, a hand resting at the back of Freddie’s head. 

“No, just me,” Freddie grinned as he let Brian’s cock rest soft against the fabric of Brian’s trousers. “But thank you for the compliment.” 

Brian giggled again, and it was the best and sweetest noise, almost as good as the kiss Brian gave him as he tucked himself away. 

“I don’t know how to pay you back for that, here,” Brian admitted sheepishly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do that as well as you can.” 

“You’ll get there,” Freddie said. “It’s enough now that we got to do anything at all.” 

“Maybe tonight?” Brian asked. “After the rest of rehearsal, I mean.” 

“Tomorrow night,” Freddie said. “After you talk to Chrissie.” 

His eyes had adjusted enough to the dark that he could see Brian nod. “Right. That has to be done first.” 

“It does,” Freddie said, and kissed him softly. “After that? There’s room at mine for you, if that’s what you want.” 

“It is,” Brian said. 

“You can think about it, I mean right this minute might not be the best time to make the decision-” 

“I didn’t make it now,” Brian interrupted. “Made it weeks ago, months ago. But was too scared to bring it up or say anything, or act on it until last week after the pub.” 

“I had wondered,” Freddie admitted, and suddenly the months full of oddly tender moments with Brian, that had sat right along the edge of being boyfriends rather than just friends, made sense. “But I didn’t want to push anything, since I didn’t know if I was fully right in what I was thinking.” 

“You were right,” Brian said, and kissed him deeply, a hand at the back of his neck. “I think we have to find a way to go back out there now, without it being weird.” 

“We’re dating, and I just gave you a blowjob in a closet,” Freddie said gently. “There isn’t a way for us to walk out together to them without it being a little bit odd. But that’s okay. Own it. We’d have to tell them too, eventually. Might as well be right now.” 

Brian nodded, the unlocked and opened the door. 

“See! I knew they were fucking in there,” Roger scoffed. “A tenner you owe me, John.” 

“It wasn’t fucking,” Freddie said. “Only a blowjob; you don’t owe him anything, John.” 

“I don’t have that much on me anyway,” John said, bouncing in place, continuing to play as he talked. “Wondered how long before it would finally happen. Congratulations.” 

“I thought I was being subtle about it all,” Brian said. 

“Subtle as screaming fire in a theater,” Roger chuckled. “Good for you two, though. Does Chrissie...” 

“I’m going to tell her tomorrow,” Brian said as he walked back to the Red Special and picked it up. “I’m not exactly worried, but-” 

“It’ll go how it goes, and she has every right to feel however she does afterwards,” Freddie interrupted as he made his way to the piano. “Just be honest, and it’ll be however it is. Nothing more you can do about it.” 

“...I’ll pack up my things once I get home tonight,” Brian said after a thoughtful pause. “For the best, since I’ll be at yours anyway.” 

“Lovely, now you can be late to practice together,” Roger said. “Very romantic.” 

“We’ll set an alarm or something,” Freddie said. “No belief in us whatsoever...” 

“Stop being late, and I’ll start believing,” Roger teased. 

“Speaking of late,” John said. “Are we going to get to it, or shall we call it for the night?” 

“Could we call it?” Brian asked, already packing up the Red Special. “I think I’d rather talk to Chrissie tonight, and if I get home soon she might still be awake.” 

They all nodded and started to clean up. What food Roger and John hadn’t tucked into was divvied up between the three of them, with Freddie taking Brian’s share. 

“I’ll leave the light on for you,” he said softly as he walked with Brian outside. “I don’t have an extra key, but if you ring the bell, I’ll let you in.” 

“I don’t want to wake you if you’re asleep,” Brian said. He adjusted his grip on the Red Special’s case nervously. 

“I’ll be doing my best not to sleep anyway,” Freddie said. “Waiting up for you. No matter how long it takes, and don’t you dare rush that conversation with Chrissie on my behalf, alright? Let her say what she needs to before you go running out the door.” 

Brian nodded. “I’ll see you at home?” 

He kissed him gently, quickly, mindful that someone could happen to be looking outside and see them. “See you there, love.” 

He didn’t quite skip home, happy though he was. The whole thing wasn’t without pain, and he hoped desperately that Chrissie would be okay. Flowers wouldn’t make up for the massive announcement and change to her life, but if nothing else, perhaps some sent to her might soothe things a little. He wanted to try and do that for her, if he could. 

And for Brian, even more. He wanted him to feel fully at home as soon as he got there, and if he worked fast, he could clean out room in the dresser for Brian’s things, create a safe space for the Red Special to be put whenever they weren’t out rehearsing or touring or Brian didn’t feel like wandering about with it and working on whatever ideas were in his head. There was an extra pillow in the closet to put on the bed, and a slightly longer blanket that he would put out (though it still might not cover Brian completely, but it would be better than the current one if nothing else.) 

It wasn’t how he had seen rehearsal ending for the night, if he was honest. It was so much better, and the idea that every rehearsal from now on would end with Brian coming back home with him, made it perfect. 

[trethepoet]

Contrary to unpopularity Kanye West is still my favorite rapper. No one asked me, but I am writing the story sooo I’m just giving you a little intro before I get into it…

Now...anyone that knows me well (about 18 people) knows that my favorite quote is from a rapper that is NOT Kanye West. “You can do it put your back into it” is my absolute favorite lyric/quote/mantra what have you. YeahEYeaheeee (is that how you spell that?). Anyway I repeat that Ice cube quote literally everyday. I have another favorite quote. I don’t know how many favorites you can actually have but Spellman University’s (an HBCU not as great as NCCU, but I’m biased) motto- “Find a way or make a way”- have been so inspirational to me daily.

Light the sage and tell Alexa to que Jazmine Sullivan - any song because they’re all my mood right now- and listen to this shit...

Have you ever? Hypothetically of course...

Have you ever been served a civil suit for temporary and full custody of your infant breastfeeding daughter by your fiancé with whom you share a residence?

Have you ever been told repeatedly that “nobody likes you”, “you’re mean”, “you’re unkind”, “you don’t answer the phone pleasant enough”, “you’re a horrible mother because you allowed your four-year-old child to call another man (that’s living under the same roof) dad?

Have you ever been told “I wish you would die” as you hold your beautiful one-month old baby daughter by the man with whom you thought you grow old?

Have you ever been accused of “trapping” someone with a baby and only wanting their money even though you went through the entire IVF process to create a child together by the person who paid for the treatment?

Have you ever been sitting in a room and overheard your boyfriend at the time tell his best friend that you were harassing him about a baby? ...He can’t be talking about the same baby that he just paid $12,000 of his own money to have his ish placed in a Petri dish with my eggs because his count was drastically low.

Have you ever been cheated on so many times that you can’t even gather the tears to cry?

Have you ever been told that you should expect cheating from a man that pays all the bills?

Have you ever been told you should allow disrespect from a man because he’s not a “regular nigga”…he’s wealthy?

Have you ever come home from grabbing a milkshake to find your friend disheveled and flustered, rushing to her car barefoot saying she has to get out of your house?

Have you ever left your drunken friend in your daughter’s bed to keep her safe only to have her accuse your boyfriend of pulling off her panties and giving her a vagina a kiss without her consent?

Has one of your closest friends ever accused your boyfriend of sexual assault/ pretty much rape?

Have you ever had proof that someone was cheating on you and you show that person their own dick pics and they say they didn’t do it?

Have you ever read text messages to another woman from your fiancé and the other woman mentions your name, your daughters name annnnnd knows that your pregnant?

Have you ever heard a rumor that someone from your fiancé’s church was having sex with your fiancé while you were pregnant and find out that it was true?

Have you ever uprooted your small child’s comfortable life to move to a state that you don’t wish to live for a man who picks apart everything you do?

Have you ever been told not to work and then work part time during a global pandemic while you’re pregnant and homeschooling two kids in two different grades and then told months later that you “only came down here and got pregnant for the money”?

Have you ever had your boyfriend curse you out in front of your friends?

Has your boyfriend ever cursed out one of your friends?

Have you ever had lies told on you by your own fiancé in order for him to make himself look good to others who don’t ever care about him?

Have you ever decided to leave and start over with virtually nothing and have a millionaire who is also your child’s father accuse you of stealing lamps al while calling you several “broke bitches”, a monster thot and telling you he doesn’t care if you sleep on the floor but then wants to be friends?

Have you ever had to take your infant daughter and six-year-old to the damn Doubletree hotels and suites to live for 13 nights because the verbal and emotional torture was turning into minor shoving and more intense arguments over nothingness?

Have you ever been accused of not allowing a person to let them see their child when you sleep under the same roof?

Have you ever been accused of using your child as a pawn by someone who was using your child as a pawn?

Have you ever been sent photos of about 20 onesies in a closet telling you that you’ve taken all of the baby shower gifts when you also have the baby?

Have you ever feared for your child’s safety?

Has anyone ever tried so badly to make everyone the introduced you too hate your guts?

Have you ever lost 20lbs of weight in three weeks due to stress?

Have you ever had to move three times with an infant child and a six-year-old in a two-month span of time?

Have you ever been so tired you forget to eat?

Have you ever just been so freaking tired?

Have you ever given up everything and trusted someone and then left with virtually nothing but your clothes and your daughters clothes and toys and still get accused of taking a fucking $79.99 dollar throw rug from Homegoods?

Have you ever felt inadequate?

Has someone ever made you feel like you don’t deserve love?

Has someone ever made you feel like a nutcase for feeling hurt?

Has anyone ever tried to tell everyone that you’re crazy in order to discredit everything you say?

Has someone ever offered to buy you a purse when a random girl found your private Instagram account to tell you the person you love was sucking her pussy in Miami?

Has anyone offered to buy you a bag in order to shut you up about a realtor with very split ends?

Has anyone ever made up lies and woke you up out of your sleep to tell them to you?

Have you ever felt so low you can’t do anything but cry your grown ass to sleep at night?

Has it ever taken you two years to realize it’s not you?

Have you ever been imperfect?

Have you ever just needed to breath and think? …You can do it, put your back into it (lol corny AF, but seriously).

Have you ever had to spend nearly 40K cash (every penny you fucking had) in the span of two months to make sure you and your daughters have a roof over your head and some forks and furniture?

Have you ever been thankful that you were able to do so?

Have you ever had to accept every helping hand extended to you?

Have you ever been postpartum and delirious?

Have you ever wanted to scream fuuuuuckkkkk?

Have you ever just wanted to call/hug your mom or dad and can’t?

Have you ever cried Pink Himalayan Sea Salt tears to one of your best friends over French toast?

Have you ever felt like why is this happening to me?

Hopefully you haven’t…but if you had I would hug you. I would scream the ICE Cube quote obnoxiously over an imaginary mic. I would encourage you to have the strength to leave. I would tell you to seek therapy. I would tell you that you aren’t crazy. I would drive all the way from Philly to help you build the crib for your daughter, I would babysit your oldest daughter while you pulled extra shifts, I would watch your oldest daughter for an entire weekend so she just walked into her new home, I would keep your daughter for two weeks while she was in virtual school so she didn’t have to see her mom in such a low spot, I would buy you groceries, I would come and wipe down your hotel bathroom and all the other surfaces b/c duh coronavirus, I would tell you that just because you aren’t getting physically hit doesn’t mean you aren’t experiencing abuse, I would have a bonfire and give you a candle and some flowers and some very tight hugs, I would make you three fire ass playlists, I would encourage you and tell you that you are valuable and loved. I would check on you weekly, I would go to brunch with you, I would pay your phone bill, I would let you and your daughters spend the week at my house and make you watch that horrible meek mill movie on volume 100, I would book you a hotel room and invite all of your closest friends to have a spa day, I would take a half day off to let the movers into your storage unit, I would let you ship furniture to my house, I would make you share your location with me so I knew you were safe, I would help you literally unpack your entire house, I would help you find an attorney, I would give you free legal advice, I would order you wallpaper, I would just listen, I would help you wash all of your new dishes and sheets, I would walk through ikea with you for hours, I would love you…I would do anything I could, I would be the friend all of my friends were to me.

How could I even question my self worth, my energy, my spirit, my personality when I am obviously getting back all of this positive energy and love. Who were you to think that you couldn’t find a way or make a way?

[bow-woahh]

Spop Fic recs (Catradora)

(finally)

Hello Catradora trash can's today I finally give you what I've been promising for MONTHS - a fanfic rec list. Because, if you didn't already know, I read A LOT of Catradora fanfic, probably too much and although I'm definitely not the best judge of...anything, I really wanted to make this post, so here it is, weeks late.

(it's a long one though)

I’ve written my full opinions n shit on like the first 10 multi chapters and one shots because there’s a lot lol, and some I remember better than others (tbf I've re read all of them at this point), but yeahhh. For the others, I’ll describe it in less detail and a bit more jokily lol.

I'm sorry I haven't just linked all the fics bit I just want this to be out of my drafts loll, and I can assure you most of these are pretty easy to find, I apologise for the laziness though haha

Also I’ve tried to find the all the authors tumblr or other social media, but I couldn’t for all of them which sucks, so if you happen to be the author and I left you out, please comment :)

Anyway, Y'ALL NEED TO GET ON MY LEVEL SOOO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO HERE YOU GO:

(here's a key first)

Key:

(o) = ongoing

(f) = finished

[G]=General

[T] =Teen and up Audiences

[M]=Mature

[E]=Explicit

Multi-chapters:

1. Upper West Side by ceruleanstorm (o) 100,000+ words

@princessofgayskull

[Modern AU] [T]

This fic is so amazing!! It goes so deep into their psychology and past and damn is it hilarious at time. Also, I love the premise of it - Catra is a Uber driver and Adora ends up as her passenger. It's a fairly slowburn as it goes deep into the two girls' lives and really gives time for the relationship to develop naturally and that is honestly really appreciated because it makes the good moments between the two even better and more rewarding if I'm honest. A lot of angst though. All the other characters we know and love are also written amazingly in it too, and are made equally important. All in all, I love this fic and everything about it!

As of writing it has fairly infrequent updates, but each chapter is 10-20k+ words and has 9/12 chapters so...there’s a lot.

2. For my Sake by doublepasse (f) 100,000+ words

@doublepasse-writes

[Canon Compliant][E]

The story and world building is just - WOAH. This one is quite the slowburn but boy is it worth it. It's set a couple months to a year after season one, where Catra finally captures Adora but the tables turn very quickly when capturing her nearly results in her death, which Catra (unsurprisingly) didn’t want. The story has some BIG plot twists and is definitely one of the best canon universe Catradora fics I’ve ever read and the ending was very satisfying, but also open ended, BECAUSE there’s a part 2 coming and I couldn’t be more excited!

(Also, there is one chapter with nsfw content in it, but it has a sfw version)

3. Skinny Love by Maychup (o) 89,000+ words

@maychup

[Canon Compliant][M]

Another amazing fic that takes place in the canon universe that has such great world building, and is very plot heavy. It takes place days after the S1 finale and goes from there basically. The premise of it is similar to many fics and one shots you’ve probably read - sleeping with the enemy. From the first chapter it seemed like it could have easily been a five chapter easy redemption fic but nooooooo, it goes a lot LOT deeper. I feel like this fic did such a great job on character development, Catra’s specifically, she grows so much throughout the fic. She is also such a mother to all her Horde pals in this and I love that haha.

At the time of writing, it’s still ongoing, and boy am I excited to see where it goes. It’s also super angsty and has a fair-ish amount of smut so be warned!

4. The Heiress and The thief by Fuhadeza (f) 58,000+ words

@fuhadeza

[Regency AU][M]

As it says in the fic summary, it is literally the She-Ra regency AU I never knew I wanted likeeee, it’s so good! Premise - Adora is taken by Lady Brightmoon, leaving her boarding school, and her best friend behind, Catra, and everything is fine until her old friend face resurfaces. This one had me screaming at times (most of them did, but this especially). It was a really enjoyable read and I honestly loved the way the author dealt with love and the way Adora dealt with her feelings and just ahhh- read it.

5. Faded with feelings by yesimgay (f) 24,000+ words

[Roomates AU][T]

This fic. I read this a WHILEEE ago but to this day this is one of my favourite fan-fics ever like it’s hilarious, and fluffy and unproblematic and sometimes you need that tbh. Everything you need to know is established in the first chapter but the way it is done feels so natural, as if it’s just Adora‘s or Catra’s thoughts and I love it. Also the premise is GREAT - Catra has ADHD and smokes weed to help with it, and Adora accidentally takes an edible, which is when shenanigans start to ensue.

6. Dream of Me by DBsean (f) 18,000+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

Although it is on the shorter side with only five chapters, this was another fic that was so so good in quality and premise. For whatever reason, Catra and Adora start sharing dreams, enabling them to share moments together that they (unfortunately) can't have in real life, due to them being on opposite sides of the war, and in turn - enemies. The angst in this fic literally KILLED ME, and the characters dialogue is so good as well! I also recommend you check out some of the authors other fics, they're all great!

7. we've been making shades of purple out of red and blue by darklady21(o) 19,000+ words

[Roomates AU][M]

Another Roomates AU, bUT instead of being best friends, the two barely know each other, or interact at all...GREAT RIGHT?!? Honestly though, I think the author did a great job in making it not seem too rushed, especially in the setup and establishing how although they know each other, they DONT know each other, so the first couple chapters are basically that stage where they are learning more about each other and leaving stupid post it notes around the house, and it just feels so natural and great! Updates aren’t super regular, but there’s already nine chapters (as of writing) so definitely check it out, as well as their other works too!

8. Razorback by Starr_Reborn(o) 22,000+ words

[Canon Divergence AU][M]

Apparently, the author wrote this with the intent of it being fluffy. From the title you can tell that is NOT the case. At all. This one HURTS. This is very very angsty, and also has some themes of rape in it, so if that kinda thing triggers you I might wanna skip out on this one. It is a really good fic though and stands out from a lot of the others because of the way it is written. Chapters aren’t usually longer that 1000 words and the writing style is quite disjointed at times, and it a lot of the time a stream of consciousness. At times it can even be a little confusing or hard to follow, but I find it makes it even more interesting, and also means it will probably be a fic I come back to once completed. It is genuinely so unpredictable, I have no clue where it’s going, but I really love it for that!

9. Sunflower by TechnoSkittles (f) 6000+ words

@technoskittles

[High School AU][G]

Oh, BOY. Oh boyyy. This fic - it's 8 chapters and only 6000 words yet the story is just- Ahhh READ IT. It's so good! And like the author in general is so amazing at writing like check out all their works (especially their latest one shot omg I loved it). Anyway, read this, it's not too long, it's cute and also genuinely surprising, the ending was not something I saw coming AT ALL, so YEAH!

10. I like me better when I'm with you by lesbians_harold(f) 22,000+ words

@lesbians-harold

[High School AU][T]

Just a nice, fun, fluffy high school, friends to lovers AU. Catra moves to Adora’s school senior year and the twos friendship is quickly rekindled, after a rocky start albeit. Adora is a big ol’ jock and Catra draws which is a headcanon I LOVE. It’s written so well, and the characters are also written well too! It is a lil angsty at times, but not to worry - but it does pay off, I assure you.

11. I thought we were best friends by vanilla107 (o) 45,000+ words

@vanilla107

[University AU][T]

Breakups. Lots of breakups, and angst. This one will mend your heart then hurt you. BE SCARED. But go read it. I mean it. It's good!

12. Dirty Dancing by LilLegalLoli94 (o) 9000+ words

@lillegalloli94

[Dancing AU][M]

Basically lots of (sexual) tension after years of not seeing each other because Adora moved to Brightmoon Dance Academy. It's good. Real good.

13. Back to Black by eveynull (f) 6000+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

(Post War) Gays go and visit their past, staring angst, and featuring your favourite co-star - fluff!

14. how things are supposed to be by maggiesbombshell (o) 11,000+ words

@yeunslegacy

[High School AU][M]

A jolly slowburn that will hurt your soul because (internalised) homophobia and gay.

15. Some things you don't see coming by Trashibesensei (o) 20,000+ words

[High School AU][T]

Adora being a big ol' jock, and Catra being a big ol' gay. I’m not even gonna explain it, you have to find that out yourself.

16. A quarter after three by Maychup (o) 11,000+ words

@maychup

[Youtuber AU][M]

Adora's gay panic settles in when she bumps into her childhood bestie, Catra, live streaming in the streets of LA. My favourite part of this fic has to be the YouTube comments she gets. This one will make you laugh. And go AWWW CUTE.

17. A Song to My Heart by DemiRebel (f) 8000+ words

[Neighbors AU][G]

The cute girl next door keeps singing loud, and it sounds BELLE, so what else would you do other than creepily listen?? 10/10 for premise.

18. Occupied by Nny11 4000+ words

@nny11writes

[Modern AU][T]

The most hilarious soulmate AU I've read tbh. One word - bathrooms.

19. Whispering Dreams by dragonesdepapel (f) 7400+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

Adora finds a wounded and sick gay so obviously, she helps her out, much to her protesting. This fic will honestly make you go through the five stages of grief. Big ol' oof.

20. Why you SHOULD bring in your untrained cat to the rebellion by locuas (f) 6800+ words

[Canon Divergence AU][G]

This fic is a literal joke. But it will probably be the best crack you will ever read, so. READ IT.

ALSO HERES A LIL SELF PWOMO OF MY MULTI CHAP:

What drove her insane, 13,000+ words (f)

One shots:

1. hang tight (all you) by TechnoSkittles 9000+ words

@technoskittles

[High School AU][T]

This is a fic that will break your heart and mend it. It's about Adora coming to terms with her sexuality throughout high school in a pretty unsupportive environment, added onto the fact she has a crush on her best friend. It's paced so well, nothing feels rushed and although it's only 9000 words, it manages to flesh out characters that aren't even in the show, and it obviously does a great job with the topic at hand - sexuality and homophobia. Like it honestly touched my heart, reading it I genuinely wanted to cry. I loved everything about it, from the moment it started to the last line. It's just written in a way that is probably relatable to so many people who are or have struggled with coming to terms with themselves, and shows how for some it's really not an easy thing. It's also written beautifully, and I PROMISE you won't regret reading this! Definitely check out some more of their works too, they're all great reads!

2. you're my favorite song (and it's stuck in my head) by artemiswords 16,000+ words

@artemisbye 

[High School AU][T]

A belle valentine's day fan fic which I just,, ahhhhh this is some of the best 16k words I've ever read, it's so nice and fluffy! Premise - Catra has to take the bus to school, and ends up sitting next to this cute girl on the bus, Adora, and listening to TayTay (Swift), sharing earphones with this complete stranger. Obviously, Catra develops a crush, but she is sure Adora is straight. It's written so well, and is such an enjoyable read, with so many great moments and dialogue. Music is a very prevalent theme (which you can tell from the name tbh) in it, and the amount of song references in it also make it feel so fleshed out in a way, like their both just teenagers with somewhat questionable music taste. Just all the exchanges they have are great, especially the ones over text and social media, there were so many funny moments too. DEFO, recommend if you wanna read something nice and lighthearted!

3. The Interlude That Never Ends by FMLClexa 2000+ words

Twitter: catrxs

[Historical AU] [M]

Angst. Quite angsty. But also fairly fluffy, it has a good balance. And the writing style is just so - it gets your heart wrenching despite being fairly short, and is also very poetic, and I don't know about you, but I love things like that! The fic is a historical/soulmates AU where they are bound to fall in love, no matter the period they're reincarnated in. It's one of the most creative fic ideas I've ever read, and the concept is executed so well, which makes it even better. And it's, so so damn sweet ahh, read it read it READ IT!

4.  is there a knife in your bed or are you just happy to see me? by ceruleanstorm 6000+ words

@princessofgayskull

[Canon Universe][T]

This fic was everythinggg, it is so cute, like it’s basically 6k words of fluff! Also, if you didn’t already notice, the title (and the fic) heavily references the fact Adora keeps a knife under her bed (I DIED when that happened in s2).  Set post war, Catra sneaks away from her post to visit an overworked and stressed Adora in Bright Moon and cuteness ensues. I honestly just love everything about this fic, we need more fluffy and funny fics like this! The dynamic the two have in this is perfect and the dialogue and general writing style of it is great! And Adora’s internal dialogue in this honest to god had me dead. Needless to say this is one of my fav Canon Universe one shots.

5.Girl’s Become Lovers (Who Turn Into Mothers) by A_Zap 2000+ words

@azapofinspiration

[Canon Universe][G]

This has to be one of the cutest, well written, fic I’ve read! Catra brings home the only survivors from a tragedy her and Scorpia stumbled upon, but one thing Adora doesn’t expect is for them to be children. The,, emotions in this are so raw and powerful. Even though they obviously have these new little people in their life though, their problems don’t just go away, they still have their own issues, and have to deal with them while looking after these kids. In general they handle mental health so well, and Shadow Weavers lasting effect on Catra SHOWS and it shows hard. Honestly, it made me want to cry at some parts and the ending was EVERYTHING, so reAd IT.

6. baby, i'm a house on fire (and i wanna keep burning) by wittchers 7000+

@huremsultan

[Medival AU]

A really fun fic to read, with a very original premise: after the Horde defeats the kingdom Bright Moon, Hordak is crowned, Queen Angella was killed, and Princess Glimmer is missing, which leaves Lady Adora forced into an arranged marriage with Lord Catra, to keep her people happy. Obviously, being an arranged marriage, with her enemy, she ain’t too happy about it, nor is Catra. But they have to put up with it, and each other. Honestly, like the development of their relationships is sooo good, and there is the perfect balance e of angst and fluff (if you can call it that?) so don’t worry it won’t kill you! Like ahh, the emotions in this - so well described with so little words. And the ending is great, in general it’s great!

7. Adora Casts: Zone of Truth by Hemogobbler 2000+ words

@hemogobbler69

[Canon Universe][T]

Literally just 2000 words of utter cuteness and hilarious dialogue haha. Premise - Catra has just defected recently, and is still warming up to Adora, is still slightly shut off from her. So, to try remedy this, she gets a truth serum from Madame Razz, and slips it into their food, leading to them talking honestly about their feelings for the first time in a while. I just love it so much because I feel like this is genuinely something Adora would do, and also something I’d probably do in her situation - Catra opening up is a rare occurrence! Also, as I said, their are some really funny, laugh out loud moments, which out of context are so weird, yet somehow manage to make a lot of sense. Anyway, if you just had a bad day, I think this fic would definitely lift your spirits.

8. bloom by kimah 4000+ words

Twitter: whitehotmoons

[Modern AU][G]

A post break up fan fic where Catra's therapist suggests Catra write down her feelings, which leads her to write the things she hates about Adora, and their interactions they've had since their break up. The way it's written is so... angsty but like, not? I'm bad at this. Literally, reading this I really felt Catra's pain, and I just wanted to give her a hug at times. Adora too. The small details the author outs into the characters makes the characters all that more realisitic too, and I love it! Seriously though, the angst, will, get, you.

9. I do adore by thankskelley 6000+ words

Twitter: cosmicsporks

[Modern AU][G]

A Catradora fake dating AU. Is there anything more you need in life? Catra and Adora are are roomates, and one day, Adora bursts in, saying she finally came out to her parents, and also that her parent had assumed they are dating... leading her to ask if Catra could pretend to be her girlfriend for while. What could possibly go wrong? Hmm?? I've always loved the whole fake dating premise (to all the boyss) and with characters like Adora and Catra, (especially Catra like she is a TEASE) I always thought it'd be great. Who doesn't love oblivious gays? Their dynamic in this is also great, especially all the flirting and teasing. BUT, of course, it also a bit angsty too. I can promise you you'll love it!

10. Chocolate and Roses vs. Heartache by Trashibesensei 9000+ words

[High School AU][T]

Another high school AU...I know I have a problem leave me alone. This time, if you couldn’t tell by the title, there’s some heartache involved, because: this Valentines Day, Adora doesn’t spend it with her best friend (now ex bestie) Catra. Even despite her popularity that she now has due to being the star player of Bright Moon’s soccer team, she can’t shake of how much she yearns for her old friend. Somehow, even with all the angst, it is still sO fucking FUNNY, the way Mermista was written was great, and she had some of THE best lines. But yeah, it’s so pure and just - Catra needs a hug, Adora needs a hug, they need to hug EACH other tbh! It had a very nice and hopeful message, and also kinda surprised me with the end.

11. someone you like by caela 5000+ words

[High School AU][T]

As a gen z, or x, or whatever the fuck I am, I always appreciate a fic where the characters say stupid shit over Instagram to their crushes which results it getting a date to prom. Although I can assure you that would never happen to me. But this So FUCKING cute and funny so READ.

12. this is what it's like when we collide (this is how you bring me back to life) by azul (7daysoftorture) 5000+ words

@bluelipgloss

[Canon Universe][G]

This galaxy brain fic is amazing and that’s ThE TEA. Catra gets a wish stone from Hordak and we all knowww, WHO she (subconsciously) craves - Adora, which obviously leads to hell breaking loose, because, disaster gays. Anyway read this it’s great and made me feel forget about the cruel world we live in.

13. Five Times Catra was a Cat and One Time the Cat was Catra by sunscreams 2400+ words

@catradoramma

[Canon Universe][T]

A BELLE, well written 5 + 1 which is just pure fluff (some hurt/comfort too) and Catra being Catra (so a loveable pain in the ass) after joining Adora in Bright Moon.

14. Vital Signs by SereneKarma 2000+ words

@serene-karma

[Modern AU][G]

Like a dumbass Catra breaks her leg and gets put in hospital, but hey - it’s okay as long as she’s got a cute nurse to look after her! It’s pretty funny just based on the concept alone so read ThIs BiSh.

15. You put the cracks into my moral code by Littleamethystc 3000+ words

@littleamethystc

[Gang AU][T]

Catra is a hotshot mafia member, Glimmer and Bow are the PoPo, and Adora is underestimated as HELL. It’s also pretty funny, like the whole concept is just perfect, so check it out!

16. The Best Gift I Could Ever Ask For by blueninjasharpshooter 1500+ words

[Modern AU][G]

Just a short n sweet fic of Adora celebrating her birthday which she forgot, and also Adora has a pocket knife in her boot, which is so accurate lmaooo. As well as having the most accurate character portrayals, AWWWWwwwww, was my reaction to the end of this fic, so read it to find out wHY.

17. but i still don’t wish death on ‘em (i just reflect on ‘em) by ayushi_writes 1500+ words

@ayushipop

[Canon Universe][G]

(Post S1) A year after the battle of Bright Moon, Adora and Catra are standing on a cliff, and Catra finally has a chance to end it all. But WilL she?!?!  Let’s just say, Catradora are the queens of promises.

18. Whiskey and Eggnog by briony8969 3500+ words

@briony8969

[Modern Christmas AU][G]

A cute Christmas fic where a nervous Adora goes home for the first time in months with her new friends from college, scared of what they’ll think but more scared of a certain SOMEONE she hasn’t spoken to in months. So basically: sexual tension gAlore.

19. She's a Regular by BaronVonChop 1500+ words

@baronvonchop

[Coffee Shop AU][G]

Adora is gay. Catra is gay. Catra works at a coffee shop (badly), and Adora goes to said coffee shop soo much, that it gets on her friends nerves, coz she very obviously likes to flirt with a Catra. It’s funny too. That’s it. That’s the fic and I love it.

20. Hand in Hand, We Make Our Way to The End by thethirdphiladelphiavireo 6500+ words

[Canon Universe - Soulmate AU][T]

Catra and Adora figure out they are soulmates after years of not knowing what it meant, but OBVIOUSLY, cannot communicate like mature humans, because - same.

21. How Do You Tell A Girl You Really Like Her Eyes? by Gay_Panic 1000+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

(Pre Canon)Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, a very gay, very wholesome, very nice first kiss fic. They are very gay for each other in this one, they don’t even care if KYLE catches them kissing.

22. Tender Moments by yesimgay 1500+ words

[Canon Universe][G]

(Post-war) Catra still feels guilty about everything she did to Adora in the past, so instead of sleeping at the foot of the bed as usual , she decides to sleep next to Adora...So there’s fluff, lots of fluff, and it is very tender.

23. Perfectly intertwined by dragonesdepapel 2000+ words

[Canon Universe][G]

On Catra’s first official day in Bright Moon, Adora drags her to a festival and they do cute things and it’s cute, and you should defo read it.

24. a girl without freckles is like a sky without stars by dear_universe 900+ words

@catralovesgirls

[Canon Universe][G]

More bed sharing because I CANNOT help myself, I love fics like these! Catra can’t sleep without Adora on her first night at the rebellion, so, she knocks on Adora’s door and things go from there.

25. Something to remember you by by DBsean 3000+ words

[Canon Universe][G]

Adora sneaks back into the fright zone in attempt to retrieve something, when Catra catches her. It’s cute af. Despite the circumstances.

26. Skiffs & Ships by mysteryinc 900+ words

[Canon Universe][G]

(Pre-show) Just two gals being pals who missed each other a fuck ton while on separate missions. It’s pretty cute.

27. Starstruck by InvisiblePinkToast 2500+ words

@invisible-pink-toast

[Canon Universe][G]

(Pre-show) A lil bit of angst, and nightmares, and a little bit of fluff, Stargazing and bed sharing - what more could you need?

28. a truth so loud you can't ignore by adverbialstarlight 2500+ words

@adverbialstarlight

[High School AU][T]

Catra ignores the growing feelings she has for her best friend, until the truth is so loud she can’t ignore it (see what I did there?) But for real tho this fic really gave me angst that hurt my soul then fluff that healed it, so we StAN.

29. Horde kids are just Like That by gerti 1500+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

(Canon Divergence) What would happen if when Adora defected the Horde, her and  Catra where still girlfriends? Read this to find out because it’s FUCKING hilarious lmaoooo, like it’s so absurd but somehow still makes perfect sense.

30. The First Step by oldmountainsoul 2900+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

(Post S1) Apologies which end in getting shoved out off trees are now exclusively for the Catradora fandom only.

31. (You’re My) Haven by giraffewrites 400+ words

@giraffewrites

[Canon Universe - Pre Canon][G]

(Pre-Canon) Adora only kisses Catra when she thinks she’s asleep, but my girl Catra ain’t playing no more so one night she just goes in for the KILL, Aka, cute dorks just being cute dorks.

32. Beyond the Screen by SereneKarma 5000+ words

@serene-karma

[Youtuber AU][G]

If you can't tell I really like YouTuber AU's. Catra being the angsty gal she is starts a YouTube channel to rant about her old best friend who practically vanished when she was 15, and her viewers (who definitely have no life) end up finding her.

33. come on, sugar, don't you leave early by thesqian 1500+ words

Twitter: @crnkgmeplys

[Modern AU][G]

Two gays at a gay wedding, who clearly have some shit going on, but it’s okay because gay weddings always bring gays together. I said gay a lot in that sentence. Read the fic, it’s short n sweet and cute, so you can’t go wrong!

34. but we could never stay away (from each other) by adorassword 1500+ words

[Canon Universe][T]

Catra and Adora have a nice, not so nice chit chat on Adora’s balcony late at night, - these two need LOVE, and I needed a hug after reading this coz damn. Damn.

35. bad ideas by ranpoandpoe 1000+ words

[University AU][T]

How we all wish thinking about your crush at 2am would go. That’s the only context I’m giving, so READ IT.

Also, here are some of my fav one shots I’ve written:

Two Sides Of The Same Coin 1000+ words

[Gang AU][T]

If I was perfect 2500+ words

[Modern AU][T]

And check out my Catradora week series, however my fav is:

damn you, unrequited love 7000+ words

[Modern/Sixth Form AU][T]

Here are some more series packed with fics that I’ve really enjoyed too!

Catradora Oneshots by clicheusername5678 @hey-adora

Catradora Tumblr Prompts BY sunscreams @catradoramma

if I grind my teeth at night, would you hear it? By poetroe

in the bottom of a coffee cup  + pieces by inkwelled (their stuff is great)

Twitter: adorascatrq

Anyway, I hope you guys appreciate this, it took quite a while lol. I had a lot of fun making it, and I hope you check out some of the fics on the list (maybe all if you're a crazy mf)

Until next time (: