#me waking up: now we don’t have time to unpack all of THAT… funny as hell tho | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mymoodwriting · 2 years

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Request for Anon (Yandere Alien Jungwoo) 4.5k, yandere, smut, sex dreams, fingering, blow job, hand job, restraints, penetration, double penetration, tentacles, aphrodisiac, drugs, breeding kink

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

It had taken Jungwoo months of nagging to get you to finally move in with him. He felt it was appropriate after you had crossed that six months mark, especially as everything had been so perfect so far. He had certainly worn you down until you finally agreed, and of course you were both so excited. So maybe you had been holding up cause of your lease, but it was cute to watch him beg. Now that you were moving in you honestly couldn’t believe it. From now on you’d be sleeping in bed with him every night, and you’d have breakfast and dinner together. You couldn’t hide your joy for one minute.

“You’re so cute when you smile.” Jungwoo commented. “Shall we order something to eat?”

“Sure.”

“I know a place around here that has your favorite.”

While Jungwoo ordered some food you decided to lay down on the couch, catching your breath after all that hard work. There were a lot of boxes to unpack, but getting them all in here was good enough for now. After a moment Jungwoo came up and hugged you from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“You wanna take a nap before the food gets here?”

“So you can eat all the good parts first? No way.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I do, just not when it comes to food.”

“Meanie.”

“I guess I should start unpacking some boxes while I wait. Or else I might fall asleep on the couch.”

“Fine, but I will be helping.”

“Of course.”

You weren’t shy or embarrassed about Jungwoo helping you unpack things like your clothes and intimates. He had already seen you naked, and besides, two people were better than one. You had finished rearranging the closet when the food arrived, and you quickly ran out to get it, beating him to it. He complained but still, the two of you sat down to eat.

“Isn’t this nice? The two of us, together at home.”

“You’re gonna make me blush. I’m still processing.”

“I was thinking… since it’s our first night living together… we could… break in the bed?”

“We’ve already done that.”

“But tonight is a special night.”

“Hm… it sounds great, but I have to get up early tomorrow for work. This may be something big for us, but the world’s not gonna stop to let us enjoy it like that.”

“Awe, come on.”

“I need a good night’s sleep. I’m gonna get berated with questions about this tomorrow. Who knows what’ll slip out of my mouth if I’m exhausted.”

“Please, pretty please.”

“Aish, why does my boyfriend have to be so cute.”

“So is that a yes?”

“No. And don’t try to be funny or you’ll be sleeping on the couch.”

“Wow, you’re so mean.”

“But you still love me.”

Jungwoo huffed for a bit. “Yeah, I do.”

Jungwoo offered to do the dishes while you prepared for bed, wanting you to take your time and get used to the new living accommodations. His shower pressure was certainly better, but it was just nice to know he was nearby in case anything ever happened. He washed up after you, and by the time he got out you were already in bed under the sheets. Jungwoo happily joined you, pulling you into a hug.

“Easy…” You mumbled. “I did warn you…”

“Are cuddles not allowed?”

“Only cuddles…”

“Sleep well, my love.”

🖤

Sleeping well was a major understatement. After a relaxing shower you easily fell asleep, feeling warm in Jungwoo’s embrace. You drifted off, feeling like it would be a peaceful night. At first it was, and then you began to feel a heat between your legs. You still felt like you were dreaming, and given where this was going, you didn’t want to wake up. You rubbed your thighs together, soft whimpers escaping your lips. Soon enough you felt something creeping up your leg, and you knew exactly where it was going.

“Jungwoo… Jungwoo… Jungwoo!”

You jumped up as your alarm went off, startling you awake. You looked over to see Jungwoo asleep, his back towards you, although he was starting to wake up, slowly looking over at you with one eye open.

“Hm? Are you okay?”

“I… sorry… I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Your alarm…”

“Ah, right.”

You reached over and turned off the alarm on your phone, carefully getting out of bed. You washed up and prepared for the day, giving Jungwoo a kiss goodbye before you left.

“Have a good day, my love…”

“I will, now go back to sleep.”

“Love you…”

“Love you too.”

You went on your morning commute, getting into the office at your usual time. You greeted your coworkers and got settled in, suddenly remembering your dream last night. Maybe you should have slept with him.

“Y/n?”

“Huh? Oh, good morning, Taeyong.”

“What you zoning out for, way too early for that.”

“Nothing. So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

You went about your day like normal, no one asking about you having moved in with Jungwoo, which was a relief. They’d probably bring it up eventually. It wasn’t until you were on your way back home that you remembered your dream. It was odd for sure, but sex dreams weren’t uncommon. Maybe you were just so fixated by it because it was your first one, especially having it while sleeping peacefully with Jungwoo for the first time. Even if you two had relations before, you never slept together through the night, always having to get back to your own place to get some proper rest before work.

“Jungwoo, I’m home!”

“Ah, welcome back, my love.”

Jungwoo rushed over to greet you, picking you up in his arms and spinning you around before peppering your face with kisses.

“Aish, did you miss me that much?”

“Missed you so much more knowing you come home to me now.”

“Did you have a good day at work?’

“It was wonderful, as I knew you’d be here tonight.”

“Well, here I am.”

“Good. I made dinner, and then we can unpack some more.”

“Sounds good.”

You ate together, Jungwoo happily feeding you from time to time. Once you had full bellies you finished unpacking, and this place really felt like home.

“So, shall we take a shower together?”

“Hm, just a shower?”

“I might wanna do something else.”

“Maybe… we’ll see.”

This was your first time showering together, his place definitely had the space for it. Jungwoo was so adorable, being gentle as he helped you wash up your hair, and you did his. He enjoyed watching you, seeing you so happy in such a space. He had you stand under the shower head as he massaged your shoulders.

“So… shall my hands move elsewhere.”

“Hm… that sounds nice, but I think I’m too exhausted for late night activities.”

“Awe, I guess the shower is too relaxing.”

“Maybe…”

“Then let’s get you to bed.”

Jungwoo helped you out of the shower and wrapped you up in a towel, drying you off. You both got dressed for bed and settled in, Jungwoo pulling you into his arms again. He kissed your head.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

“Sweet dreams…”

🖤

Maybe your dreams were too sweet. You were lying on your back, splayed out with Jungwoo hugging you, the sheets halfway down your body. It was a cool night, but Jungwoo was keeping you warm, at least to some degree. You were deep in sleep when you felt a tingling sensation coming from your breasts. You let out a content hum, starting to feel good. A heat began growing between your legs, and you let out a whimper. You felt like something was traveling up your body, hands perhaps, and you knew who they belonged to.

“Jungwoo… stop it…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to fully wake up, liking the feeling too much. He probably didn’t hear you or just continued cause he knew deep down that was what you wanted. The hands kept trailing up your body, a cold wetness starting to come from them, making you shiver.

“Jungwoo… Jungwoo…”

Your alarm went off, and your eyes shot open. You looked down to see Jungwoo in the same place, and you realized one of his arms was under you, apparently you had slept on it all night. You carefully got out of bed and pulled up the cover for Jungwoo, sneaking off to get ready for work. You came back to kiss him goodbye, finding his mumbles adorable.

“See you later, love.”

“Bye… bye…”

It was another uneventful, but busy day at work. Taeyong had you running in circles and dealing with so many customers that by lunchtime you were ready to go home.

“So… you and Jungwoo…” Johnny smiled. “How’s living with the boyfriend? Should we expect an announcement soon?”

“Oh please, don’t start.”

“Just curious. Is the happy couple still happy?”

“Very much.”

“Yeah? Broken in the bed yet?”

“Shut up.”

“Come on, we’ve told you about our sexcapades before.”

“Well we haven’t done anything. Busy unpacking and work is driving me crazy, I’m too tired for anything else.”

“That’s all the more reason to have him take care of you.”

“I mean… I think he has…”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, nevermind.”

“No, no, spill, what are you talking about?”

“I just… I think I had a sex dream?”

“Oh, do tell.”

“It wasn’t really anything, just, the last two nights, when I’m sleeping, I feel like someone… like something is happening.”

“Wow, didn’t think Jungwoo was the type.”

“But I’m not sure if he did anything, or they’re just dreams. When I wake up, considering where he is in bed, it doesn’t seem possible.”

“Maybe he’s frustrated and acting out in his sleep. This is the first time he gets to sleep with such a pretty girl.”

“You think?”

“Maybe. Wouldn’t hurt to ask. Although I’ve heard he doesn’t move around in bed.”

“Only one way to find out I guess.”

You kept Johnny’s words in mind as you made your way home. You announced your arrival and Jungwoo ran over to greet you, another big hug and lots of kisses.

“How was work?”

“Boring but busy. And you?”

“Dragged too much, but I feel better now that you’re here. So how about dinner and TV, your favorite drama starts soon.”

“Sounds perfect.”

You ate on the couch while the TV was on, cuddling up after eating to finish up the episode. Afterwards you stayed put, cuddling for a while, and you figured now was the time to ask about the last couple nights.

“Jungwoo.”

“Hm?”

“Have you been sleeping well?”

“Yeah, why? You haven’t?”

“Well… I think I’ve been… having sex dreams…”

“Oh, dreaming about me? How sweet. What am I-”

“Not like that.” You sat up. “I feel like someone is touching me, and like… is that you?”

“What? No, you said you don’t wanna do anything, and I respect that. Maybe you’re the one who wants something.”

“Yeah, well I don’t have the energy for it. I’m gonna go shower and then go to bed.”

“Shall I join you?”

“Maybe next time.”

You trusted Jungwoo, and given the evidence you had, he definitely wasn’t doing anything. Maybe it was your subconscious begging for something you didn’t have time for at the moment. At this point, two nights in a row, it was getting a bit annoying. Still, you stayed focus on what was to come. You snuggled into the covers and soon enough Jungwoo got in and spooned you, giving you soft kisses.

“Dream of me, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, night.”

🖤

You thought after confronting the situation you’d have a normal night, but that seemed to be the furthest thing from your mind. You slept in Jungwoo’s embrace, using his arm as a pillow, happy and content. You were already warm and comfy, but soon you felt something moving up your leg. It was kinda cold which made you shiver, and before you could think too much of it you felt it between your legs, rubbing back and forth through your panties. You let out a whimper, pulling your legs up a bit. Soon enough you felt something else curling around your breasts and a moan escaped your lips.

“Jungwoo, cut it out…”

“Hm?”

“Stop it…”

“Stop...what?”

“Your hands…”

“What…”

You opened your eyes, beating your alarm by a few seconds. When you looked over at Jungwoo he was lying on his back, and you noticed your face outline on the arm you had been sleeping on. You shook your head and got out of bed, going to splash some cold water in your face. You had no idea what was going on with you, but right now you didn’t have the time to worry. You got ready and kissed Jungwoo goodbye. Of course Johnny wanted to know what went down with his advice so he got you to join him for lunch again.

“He said he didn’t do anything.”

“Hm, he is a deep sleeper.”

“Or maybe he’s lying.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Three nights in a row? That’s one too many to be a coincidence.”

“Then tell him to sleep on the couch.”

“What?”

“Just saying. If you think he’s doing something then have him sleep on the couch for one night or something.”

“I don’t think I could do that to him.”

“Then you sleep on the couch.”

“Hm… maybe…”

“Something does seem off with that not gonna lie. Although I wish I had that many sex dreams.”

“Oh, shut up.”

One of you sleeping on the couch wasn’t a bad idea, but you doubt Jungwoo would like it either way. Still, you needed answers to all this. When you got home Jungwoo greeted you as always, very happy to see you, although he could see that something was on your mind.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen at work?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know… I just had another weird dream last night and… I think something is up with me…”

“Another sex dream? And here I thought I was frustrated. Then how about I help you wash away your worries and give you what you want.”

“I’m not sure that will solve the problem.”

“Oh come on, isn’t that what your subconscious is telling you?”

“The fact you’re not worried here is saying a lot.”

“What are you talking about? Sex dreams are normal, and aren’t dreams supposed to tell you something. I can interpret this dream loud and clear.”

“Now I’m really starting to think you’re doing something while I’m asleep.”

“I said I didn’t.”

“Your attitude says otherwise.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m worried and you think this is a joke. How can I not suspect you?”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Can we just have dinner and go to bed?”

“I think I’m gonna eat out and stay with a friend tonight.”

“Y/n.”

“A night away from you should prove whether it’s you or not.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“You’re not leaving.”

“I’ll text you later.”

“I said you’re not leaving!”

Jungwoo ran over to you and pulled you into his arms. You were startled as he raised his voice, also a bit confused by the hug. Once you regained your senses you started to squirm, trying to break free.

“Jungwoo, let go.”

“You can’t leave.”

“Let go.” You managed to move a bit, but he just wound up hugging you from behind. “Jungwoo, this is childish.”

“It’s not my fault.”

“Then what is it?”

“I couldn’t help it…”

“What?”

Jungwoo sighed. “I worked so hard to get you here, I can’t just let you leave cause you’re upset with me.”

“Huh?”

“You’re staying here.”

“Jungwoo-”

You were suddenly lifted off the ground, Jungwoo carrying you off to the bedroom with ease. You knew he was strong, but this was beyond what you thought. Jungwoo threw you down on the bed, quickly climbing on top of you and pinning you between his thighs.

“Jungwoo, what the fuck!”

He wasn’t listening to you, and took his shirt off. You weren’t really liking where this was going, but things took an unexpected turn. Jungwoo closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief, and then your eyes went wide. You weren’t sure that what you were seeing was real. Six cyan limbs, or tentacles, sprouted from his back, three on either side. They seemed to stretch before settling down, almost giving the illusion of wings.

“You… you…”

“It feels nice to let them out. I’ve kept them hidden since you moved in, but clearly they’ve been trouble.”

“What…”

“Your little sex dreams… they have a mind of their own, but I can’t blame them.”

“You’re not… human…”

“No, I just look like one. This planet isn’t bad… but I prefer my home.”

“Then why… why are you…”

“Here? A little vacation and sightseeing, but mostly… I’m looking for a mate.”

“A… a mate?”

“Yup. I saw you and everything just clicked. I knew I had to have you.”

“So… all this time… you just…”

“Oh, no, no, no, I do love you. All that time spent together has been wonderful. And you’re so cute.” Jungwoo leaned down and kissed your cheek. “Which is why I can’t lose you.”

“This isn’t… love… you’re just…”

“Sh. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. I’ve been restraining myself as best as I can but… it is mating season for me afterall.”

“Mating… season…”

Jungwoo smiled. “You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”

“Wa… wait!”

Seeing those tentacles suddenly come to life sent a chill down your spine. Jungwoo let you get your arms free, but he quickly pinned them above your head, his lips moving to yours. He kissed you deeply, and then his lips trailed down to your neck, starting to suck on the exposed skin. While he gave you attention, his tentacles started going elsewhere. One immediately went into your pants, right under your panties and reached your core. It rubbed back and forth, the feeling made you whimper, and you recognized the familiarity of it. The last couple of nights, they started to make sense, even if all this seemed impossible.

Two other tentacles went under your shirt, pushing your bra up and wrapping around your breasts. They were all wet, but soon enough you began to feel warm. Despite everything your body was responding against your wishes, getting more stimulation than you were used to. That was probably why your head was getting fuzzy, or maybe that was something else. Once you seemed calm enough Jungwoo released his grip, although his tentacles kept your arms pinned as he began to undress you. He started with your pants, getting some help tugging them down, and then slipping you out of your shirt, tossing your bra off to the side.

“You seem happy.”

“Hm…”

“When I’m not holding back my pheromones can be quite overwhelming, plus the aphrodisiac my tentacles exude makes things very enjoyable.”

“You…”

“Sh, just enjoy yourself.”

Jungwoo gave you a quick kiss, he then went down to your chest, pressing a kiss between your breasts before taking one into his mouth. You let out a moan, losing any sense of self control, slowly but surely. The tentacle between your legs kept teasing you, and then it started swirling around your entrance, making you needy. One of Jungwoo’s hands also dove down there, playing with your clit. You were already so wet with a foreign substance, and before you could wonder about the taste, a tentacle softly pushed into your mouth. It felt like a gummy, and had a sweet cherry taste to it. You were already so lost in your own pleasure you were practically a rag doll.

“Do you feel good?” Jungwoo asked, before seeing what was happening. “Ah, I see someone got greedy. Shall I?”

You were more focused on gently sucking on the tentacle in your mouth, getting addicted to the taste, although someone wanted a taste too. The tentacle pulled out with a loud pop, giving you a second to breathe before Jungwoo was kissing you. His own lips were already shining, and just gave you a fresh taste of cherry. His hand moved away from your clit, wanting to hold your head and keep you close as his lips devoured you.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Hm…”

You had sex with Jungwoo before, but not like this. You couldn’t even fathom what it had been like for him, holding all this back. You thought to say something, but the words caught in your throat as you felt a tentacle push into you. They had been teasing for so long you didn’t see it coming, and it slid in so easily, stretching you out softly. A moan escaped your lips instead, and swear your eyes rolled to the back of your head. The tentacle went in as deep as it could, making you feel so incredibly full. You thought you had hit the ceiling until another tentacle started teasing your clit, adding another sensation.

“So fucked out already, love?” Jungwoo chuckled. “You must feel amazing.”

“Ye… yes… fuck…”

“So hot.”

You were barely getting used to the tentacle buried inside you when it began moving. Not as you thought, back and forth, but swirling around, stretching you out more and more, trying to squeeze more in. Your hands gripped at the bed sheets just as the tentacles holding your arms let go and grabbed your legs, pulling them apart to let the other get deeper.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

“I know, baby. We’re getting to the good part.”

You didn’t really know what he meant by that, but you were focusing more on the attention your body was getting. By now you were practically shining from head to toe, feeling warm and fuzzy all over. Jungwoo’s hand found his way between your legs again, two fingers shoving their way into you alongside the tentacle. He was looking around for something, and when he found it he started working it over. A new wave of pleasure washed over you as he kept hitting your sweet spot, plus the stimulation on your clit, it was too much. The heat that was building was suddenly ablaze and you knew you were seconds away from climaxing.

Jungwoo could see it too, stealing a kiss from you as your vision went white. You moaned into his mouth, your whole body shaking with impossible levels of pleasure, your hips shaking and greedily trying to get more. You didn’t even get any relief as you came down, the tentacles and fingers still moving and taking advantage of your sensitive state. Jungwoo reached over to take one of your hands and guide it down to wrap around his cock. You don’t know when he completely undressed, but it didn’t matter. He got your hand into a good rhythm as you pumped his shaft, feeling precum coat your hand and get smeared all over. You knew where this was going, and simply imaging it made you lick your lips.

“Easy love, soon.”

Whatever he meant by soon wasn’t fast enough but eventually you got what you wanted. You whined as the tentacle slowly pulled out, leaving you empty and needy. Jungwoo pulled your hand away and kissed. Since you were already stretched out it was so easy for Jungwoo to slide in. The tentacle was lovely, but feeling a nice cock inside, and squeezing down on it just hit differently. You moaned, a blissed out expression on your face. There was no way you fully recovered from your first orgasm as Jungwoo was already working a second one out of you. He started of slow, teasing you, before getting into a good rhythm, and getting rough.

“Fuck, Jungwoo… ah, fuck…”

“I got you, I got you. Just get ready for me.”

“Hm…”

You moved your hips in time with Jungwoo, not sure how you had the energy for it, maybe you were just hungry for him. You were stretched out so good, and then you felt the tip of a tentacle teasing at your entrance, wanting to go back in as well. Jungwoo leaned down to kiss you, whispering words of encouragement. He took another shot at your lips as the tentacle pushed its way in, stretching you out way more than you were used to. You whimper, needing a moment to get used to the size, but it felt so good regardless of the pain.

“You’re so fucken hot like this baby.”

“Jungwoo…”

“Sh, just take it all in. I know it’s too much for your mind to handle, but I got you.”

“Ah…”

Jungwoo held your gaze, looking at the expressions on your face. He had been looking forward to this so much, and he was enjoying every moment of it. Even as he was reaching his own climax he held your gaze. As he got close all the tentacles got relentless, wanting you both to cum together, and when you squeezed him tightly from reaching your high he spilled his seed into you. He kept pushing into you, wanting his cum to go deeper inside, and stay put to plug you up. You felt so warm inside, wanting to wrap your legs around him, but they were still held apart. All you could do was moan, trying to keep a blurry Jungwoo in your vision.

“I’m gonna take you home…”

“Hm…”

Jungwoo pressed his head against yours, the two of you trying to catch your breath. You were both sticky and covered in a mix of sweat and tentacle shine. In a strange way you felt so loved, more than any normal person could give you. At this point you might actually pass out, especially when Jungwoo started moving again, a wet sound filling your ears.

“You wanna come home with me baby girl?”

“Home…”

“You’ll love it. It’s like this world but better, especially for the little ones.”

“Little…”

Even in your haze that phrase seemed to pull you to the surface. You squirmed for a moment before your arms were grabbed again, and all the tentacles pulled your limbs taut, keeping you still.

“You… you…” Your eyes glanced down to see Jungwoo and a tentacle buried deep inside you. “I’m… I’m not on anything…”

“I know. I’m glad I didn’t have to worry about that.”

“No… you can’t… you’re not…”

“We don’t just look like humans, but have some other similarities.”

Jungwoo carefully moved back as the tentacle kept his cum in you. He leaned down and kissed at your belly, another tentacle coming over to gently rub it.

“You’re gonna look so beautiful soon enough.”

“No, no, no! You can’t!”

You tried to struggle, but you were held still, starting to panic. Jungwoo took you by surprise with a kiss, trying to calm you down. It didn’t do much so a tentacle pushed its way past your lips, the sweet cherry taste already acting like a sedative, the limb itself swirling around in a soft soothing rhythm. Soon enough you were lulled back into a blissful state, vaguely watching Jungwoo pressing more kisses to your belly.

“We have a long night ahead of us.”

#nct #nct 127 #jungwoo #kim jungwoo #taeyong #johnny #lee taeyong #suh youngho #nct au #nct 127 au #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct yandere #request

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starwalker03 · 1 year

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I have thoughts and questions on the au of WMLP where the league actually gets the kids out. Just the Drama of the league saving Kaldur and Conner only to find out Dick and M’Gaan are alive! And worse off! Artemis is fine?? She’s living with a internationally, wanted assassin, but not being abused, tortured or enslaved?? Kids thinks she’s fine.

What would Artemis do if her friends got saved? Would she come home? Drop the father bomb on Roy and Oliver and try to go back to normal? Continue with revenge?

It could be really funny if each time the JL rescued one of their kids, said kid complained and told them they should have saved another one. Save Conner and he goes “you need to get Dick out. Don’t work about me!” Try to save Dick and he complains “why are you bothering with me? You’re just tipping the Light off. You should have gotten M’Gaan out.” Like getting the jump on Deathstroke is simpler then taking on the Light.

I like to imagine they got Slade by hiring him from a shell company identity and jumping him and Renegade on the job with the entire Justice League. Batman pulling out all the stops. I also think Dick would fight with Slade until Slade ordered him to give up or abandoned him to escape. Even with the League calling his name and trying to tell him they’re here to save him. Can’t stop my love of angst and drama. Also idea of Slade ordering Dick to stand down with hand signals and Angry Superman jumping in Slade’s face for it.

These kids (who are no longer kids) are such a mess. Imagine Black Canary getting to unpack all that. She’ll need therapy. Comes out of a therapy session with Dick or M’Gaan right to Oliver like “I need you to convince me not to kill someone.”

kaafgbjkbelcna;kncioewnknvuwencnvioevbweonk man.

no but you're right that would be Conner's reaction. just immediately starts chewing out the nearest leaguer because 'you idiot! you just completely lost the advantage of surprise! the hell do you think you're doing oh my god- nope. no get out of my face i need to go stare at a wall because I'm gonna strangle someone this is ridiculous' and Clark in the background like 'buddy. buddy, can we talk? hey, you know Dick is dead right? you were at his funeral, remember?' which does not end well.

God, Artemis. if her friends were saved. now there's a thought. yeah she probably would come home. assuming this is around five years in and Jade has had the kiddo, I think she'd want to stay with Jade to help her with the baby but also she'd run home and hug Oliver and M'Gaan and Dinah and immediately drag Roy home with her by the ear. Then I think she'd gather the six of them all together and start plotting revenge.

That is definitely a good way to go about grabbing Renegade from Slade. God the idea of Dick desperately fighting to protect Slade while he's telling him to stand down and retreat and the league are yelling at him to stand down because he's safe. fuck man. Dick waking up and as soon as he sees someone in arm's reach socking them across the jaw. he has to be restrained and oddly enough it makes him feel better. the leaguers desperatly trying to get through to him, for him to say he doesn't want to be what he is, so they have grounds to not turn him over to the UN and throw him in Belle Reve. Dick refusing to comply until They get M'Gaan in and she tells him it's okay and they can get through this and maybe, just maybe, if they play this right they don't have to go back to how things were. AH. ANGST. amazing. I appreciate this.

#dick grayson #dc comics #fanfiction #angst #deathstroke #young justice #with morality like a polynomial #wmlp #artemis crock #conner kent

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wave-to-jenny · 5 months

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To Say “I love you” or To Show The Love.

Autobiography By Jenny Park

Like a routine, I wake up to the sound of my mom’s footsteps as she walks around the kitchen clanging pots and pans as she prepares a typical breakfast. I rose drowsily from my bed and dove head first into the cold morning dew that surrounded my home and sitting on the dining table was the usual fried egg, some type of soup, and kimchi that my mom had made. Just as a fresh bowl of rice is placed in front of me, the steam wafts over my face. And at that moment I think of the night three days before.

It was July 2023. A hot summer night when my mom arrived home right on the dot — same as always — at 9:03 PM. As I helped my mom unpack her stuff, she told me that there were more things in the trunk of the car. Usually this means she brought something big. And I was right. There were two bags of Chinese cabbage that looked as if it were to spill — or maybe even pop — out of the plastic any second. Carrying that in, I asked my mom if she was gonna make kimchi with all of this and she agreed.

When I was younger, at about 7 years old, the most that I could do to help was watch. I remember feeling useless watching my sister help my mom and keep her company while all I could do was sit idly. Now though, with my older sister off to college, and we having grown, my mom had asked me for help for the first time. I remember the pungent smell of garlic as it got on my hands for days due to the mincing, I also remember my eyes watering because of the chilli powder that got in my eyes. But above all else, I remember my hardworking mom who had beads of sweat, like tiny pearls, dotted on her forehead as she fed me the fresh made bite of spiced cabbage. Additionally, I will always remember her smiling when I had told her that it was delicious. And at that moment, it was not just her who felt satisfaction because I too had felt an emotion that I thought would be lost forever.

Because the amount of work and love she pours into us kids — me and my older sister — as a single mother is just insurmountable. And it is funny because back when I was younger, I struggled so much with my mom because she never expressed her love for us verbally. I would often think that she did not care or that she loved me less than my older sister when she would not pay me any attention and I would always ask my mom, “You love me, right?”

I remember my mom had no response to that and just kept showing me her love instead. Soon enough, I realized that my happy place was right in front of me this entire time, I just needed to look around better.

Opening my eyes, as the steam from the hot rice vanishes, I had asked my mom if she loved me again and her reply is one that I had wished I recorded to listen to whenever and wherever. “Of course I love you. That’s why I wake up in the middle of the night to tuck you in just in case you’re cold. I would cook you the food you really liked on days that you’re not feeling well and I would cheer you on in your hobbies and events even though I don’t always say it out loud. I would give you the best part of the food even before myself because I want to give you and your sister the better things. And that’s me saying that I love you. It doesn’t mean that I don’t verbally say the words that I don’t love you. Because you’re my daughter.”

Since then, for me, the meaning of loving someone has changed. Even words like “take care” and “eat well”, along with actions like preparing a meal can all mean “I love you.”

#literature #autobiography #i love you #actions #poetry #creative writing #creative nonfiction

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invisiblegarters · 2 years

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Eternal Yesterday Ep 2

Oh, they are really leaning hard into the undead thing then.

And at least now we know that Koichi's not going to start smelling up the place or like, losing pieces. Or start craving brains. I'm actually really really glad that we do know that, because honestly it would have haunted me. My brain just likes to think about these things.

Okay, Episode Two General Thoughts:

SO cute that Koichi's first thought on waking up was to make sure Mitsuru was all right. But also, my dude, maybe check yourself over first since you were the one who actually made contact with the evil murder truck.

The whole bit where Koichi gets up and starts cracking bones into place was unexpectedly hilarious. Koichi just like "la la let's just snap my neck back on straight" while Mitsuru is like "you were hit by a truck what is even happening right now" amused me to no end. And then how he just goes for Koichi's shirt buttons like it's no big he's just undressing another boy in the rain after he got slammed by a truck (Koichi was into it, but I feel like that's not saying much. Koichi is into literally everything Mitsuru does. Boy is just gone).

I know I already said this, but I appreciate how hard they're going on reiterating that Koichi is really, really dead. The blood coming out of his mouth, the way he spit out a mouthful. The way he had to fix his neck and Mitsuru had to fix his leg - those crunching noises! All the bruising and the fact that he doesn't bleed and doesn't feel it when Mitsuru has to stitch up the gash in his leg. HIs pale, pale skin and how cold he is. All of it is perfect and I am glad they did it. I imagine that none of that will get better, either, which means that that will probably be the last time we see him with his shirt off, lol.

I have to admit that I'm not gripped by Mitsuru's daddy issues, although I am a lot more interested in the dichotomy between his abilities vs. his clear desire to keep as far away from the doctory end of things as he can. I think we all know at this point that this doesn't have a happy ending in the sense that Koichi gets to stay, so I bet that we're also going to focus on resolving Mitsuru's issues outside of the whole zombie bf thing. There's a lot to unpack with his dad I bet. And I bet that it has to do with his mom.

I don't know why I found it so funny that Koichi basically asked Mitsuru's permission to let the class prez and Hashimoto touch him. I wish Sumi had been there - I like that trio of friends and I think she might be my favorite.

The handhold was adorable. Seriously everything about Koichi's utter adoration of Mitsuru just kills me. He's just so deliciously transparent about it. More and more I'm wondering if Koichi and Mitsuru had an understanding before the truck hit - I guess we'll find out soon enough. I want to think yes, because well. Preview for next ep is clearly a flashback. But the way Mitsuru acts, I just don't know. He's still pretty hard for me to read, if I'm honest, although I don't think that the feelings are one sided even without the whole "I can't tell him my feelings or I'll lose his friendship" thing he narrates in the preview. Dude gets up early every single morning so that he can walk to school with Koichi for no other reason than to be in his company - he's definitely not indifferent.

I'm also feeling utterly and completely smug because I called the first trailer kiss being a flashback. Yes, only to myself but I still called it. I'm a freaking genius even if I'm the only one who knows it

And now the waiting game. What idiot decided to watch this week by week rather than waiting and binging all in one go?

Oh, right.

#eternal yesterday #eien no kino #jbl

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spnae · 1 year

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Chapter 5 A New Leaf

A few hours later Buffy woke up to a knock at the door. Rubbing her eyes, Buffy opened the door to find Faith holding a cup of coffee and a bagel, “Hey, girls are going to be coming down soon. I brought these up for you. I want to introduce you to the girls at training this morning. Spikie boy too if he wants. Don’t want any of the girls thinking he’s target practice.”

“Humm, thanks, you didn’t have to do that.” She took a tentative sip of the coffee Faith handed her. It was disappointingly void of cream or sugar. But it’s coffee…

“One time only deal, B. Are you going to get pretty-boy up?” Faith asked, poking her head around the edge of the doorframe.

Buffy glanced over at Spike sprawled out on the bed with a pillow over his face. “He’ll join us later.”

“Right, whole creature of the night thing.” Faith smirked.

Buffy leaned against the door frame and took another sip of coffee, letting the unadulterated flavor wash over her taste buds. “Give me a couple minutes to get dressed. Which training room are we in?”

“The one by the library, it’s bigger. I want to get this done before Giles leaves with the older girls. They’re going to be gone for a few days.”

Buffy straightened up, a frown clouding her features. “I didn’t realize they were going to be gone that long. What’s he doing with them?”

Faith rolled her shoulders, stretching like a cat. “Taking them on one of those spirit journey things, it’s supposed to be the beginning of the end for them as they wrap up their training with us before they go on to their placements. He’s had this on the schedule for months. Gonna be gone most of the week.”

“I should have known. Giles did tell me he had some girls that would be ready to leave soon. I guess I just lost track of time,” she said with a sigh as she turned her face back towards Spike.

He had rolled over onto his side petulantly with the pillow clamped over his head. He grunted, “You birds keep it down, you’re waking the dead.”

Buffy couldn’t suppress a grin, “Oh good, you’re up. Faith wants us to address the masses.”

“Bugger all,” Spike huffed as he pulled himself up, the sheet slipping down precariously. “Can’t it wait? Not like we’ve got a big bad on deck.”

“Things have been a bit quiet,” Faith agreed, “can’t be good.”

“Always something brewing,” Spike added as he grabbed his clothes and started pulling them on.

Buffy shifted her body, blocking Faith’s view of Spike. “I saw a ghost last night.”

Faith redirected her attention back to Buffy with a confused look on her face. “Seriously? In here?”

“Yup, right over there,” Buffy pointed to the corner behind her where she had seen the apparition.

“Explains a few things,” Faith huffed, folding her arms over her stomach and leaning against the cool stone wall in the hallway.

“Like what?”

“Never saw anything, just heard a few knocks and bangs, couple of things moved when I was in here alone. That kind of stuff barely registers on my weird-o-meter anymore.”

“Tell me about it… “ Buffy said around a bite of bagel.

Spike snorted, making a poor attempt to cover it up with a cough as he walked towards them pulling on a clean dark gray t-shirt. “Humm, dusty in here…”

Faith tilted her head, “Right… anyway… I’ll let you two get ready and just meet you down there.” With that Faith turned and left.

Buffy crossed her arms and turned towards Spike, “Really?”

“Oh come on, Love. You have to admit. It’s more than a little funny that you, one of the most badass supernatural forces for good on the planet, got spooked by a wee little ghost.”

“I’m really trying to be mad at you right now.”

“How’s that workin’ for ya, Pet?” He replied with a knowing smirk.

“Don’t push your luck,” she grinned as she pulled workout clothes from her bag, “Ok, so first chance I get, I’m unpacking.”

“Add it to the list.”

******* ****** ******

“Good morning ladies!” Faith walked up and down as she addressed the girls in front of her. Giles, Buffy, and Spike stood behind her like members of a stage cast. “As you can see we have some special guests who will be staying with us for a while. Some of you might remember Buffy-“ Whispers rippled through the girls, a few of the older girls hushed them, “That’s right, the original slayer, is in the house. Buffy and I will be splitting training duties. With her is one of our closest friends and allies, Spike aka William the Bloody Slayer of Slayers. Vampire with a soul. Good guy. Teacher NOT target practice—“

“Wait— That’s William the Bloody? I thought you said he was dead. That he died in the Battle of Sunnydale,” one of the girls blurted out.

“Got better; still dead,” he answered.

Faith snorted, “Yeah well, he’s here now to help with your training. Buff, you want to say a few words?” She added as she turned to Buffy.

Buffy switched spots with her, “I know a few of you already and the rest I know through your progress reports. But those can only go so far. Spike and I are here because we agree it’s time we take a more personal role in your training. I don’t really have a lot to say, does anyone have any questions for me or Spike?” She gestured towards him as he placed a hand on the small of her back.

“Yeah, I got one. If he’s the Slayer of Slayers, how are we supposed to trust this guy?”

Buffy rolled her eyes, I should have expected this, “You can trust him because I do. I trust him with my life, and yours. But I get it. Trust is earned and even if you don’t trust him you should be grateful for the insights he can supply. Better to be prepared. I’ve learned a lot about what it is to be a Slayer from him, you can too.”

Spike adjusted his hand on her back as he stepped a little closer to her, “That and you lot got the advantage of safety in numbers.”

A girl standing in the front of the group cocked an eyebrow as she eyed the two of them, “Just how close of a friend is this guy?”

Spike tried not to grin at the blush coloring Buffy’s cheeks as she shifted a little before answering, “Spike is my… partner.”

That earned a few low snickers.

She rolled her eyes at how stupid that sounded, “Alright fine yeah, I guess it’s pretty obvious Spike and I have a lot more than just a working relationship.”

“Not like they weren’t going to notice we’re sharing a room,” Spike smirked.

She shrugged, and turned back towards Faith and Giles, “They’re all yours.”

Giles turned to the group of girls, “Level 4 girls with me,” he said heading towards the stairs.

Faith’s voice cut through as she stepped forward, “That means levels 1, 2, and 3 fighting stances. We’re going to jump right in.”

“Giles, can I have a word?” Buffy asked, pulling him aside.

“Quickly, we really must be off,” he gestured towards the older girls to go on without him, “I’ll catch up.”

Buffy moved Giles to the corner of the room, “I saw a ghost last night. Know anything?”

“I don’t, but generally they are innocuous. I can look into it when I return if you like.”

“I’d appreciate it,��

“Right then, upon my return. See you soon!”

“See you!” She called after him.

Buffy turned around and started walking around the room correcting stances and provided assistance.

“What’s with the level thing?” Spike asked as he sidled up to her.

“What? Oh that’s just the system they came up with. Helps to break them up into smaller groups by age and level of training. Sort of our version of martial arts degrees meets high school.”

“Got it.”

With that, the two of them got to work with Faith training and sparring with the girls.

***

After the first training session Spike went back to their room whilst Buffy and Faith took the girls for a run. Sleep seemed relatively pointless so he decided to give himself a tour.

The first thing he did was head upstairs, to the other two floors they hadn’t seen yet. The one right above them consisted of three large bedrooms and one very big communal bathroom that had been recently renovated. The top floor was nothing more than one large bedroom and an access he imagined went to the roof. He meandered around the castle until he found himself in the large training room and he made his way back up to Giles’ private suite.

“Now that’s more like it, Rupert,” Spike said out loud as he looked around. It was a large room with a sitting area on one side that reminded him of Giles’ living room back in Sunnydale.

“If I were a Watcher with a stick up my ass, in charge of fifteen underage girls and Faith, where would I keep the good stuff? Ah right then…” Spike opened the doors to the wardrobe and found a bottle of scotch and a set of glasses on the top shelf, “Predictable.”

He helped himself to a drink, put Billy Squire’s ‘Don’t Say No’ album on the record player then sat back listening. As much as he agreed with Buffy about the importance of the work they were starting at the castle, it was nice to hide away with a drink in hand. A trip to the liquor store was definitely in his near future.

Spike made his way back downstairs into the training room where he heard voices. The girls were back. The rain had started.

Spike peeked his head out from behind the screen blocking the staircase from view. Buffy was there with a smaller group of girls guiding them through some tai chi exercises as a cool down after their run. He stepped out from behind the screen watching them. Buffy didn’t break form, but she did give him a quick smile when she saw him. A moment later she finished the sequence, “That was great guys, thank you! That’s all for now, I’ll see you later.”

Buffy watched as the girls filed out through the library and down the stairs before turning to Spike, “What were you doing?”

“Havin’ a nip with Squire.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow, “Ah huh, what happened to punk rock?” She asked as she picked up a towel, dabbing sweat off her face and neck.

“You really got me pigeonholed don’t you, Slayer? Remind me to tell you all about Woodstock sometime.” He drawled as he came closer.

“I— Spike-”, she stammered a little before she realized he was teasing her, “Jerk.” Buffy swatted at him with the towel.

“Not like Giles has The Ramones or The Buzzcocks up there anyway. Got a point though don’t I?” He chuckled.

She sighed as she picked up the zip-up hoodie she had worn on her run and started towards the library stares, Spike followed. “Faith told me she put a bottle in the roll top desk in our room. And there’s a portable stereo in the kitchen. What were you doing up there anyway?”

“Just nosin’ about. That bit about the booze would have been useful information, but then I wouldn’t have discovered Rupert’s record collection. That’s one thing about a mostly nomadic lifestyle, I’ve lost more records than Giles has seen in his life.”

“Could always get you an MP3 player.”

“Two sides to that; Mobile, but vinyl is better.”

Buffy laughed, “Not really the point here.”

He nudged her shoulder as they went, “Oh come on, Love, just getting the lay of the land. Not like I trashed the place.”

“I just don’t like the idea of you being in there when Giles isn’t here. He’d be pissed.” She huffed.

“I wanted to sleep. I’m only up because you requested my presence.” He answered, as he opened the door to their bedroom.

Buffy stripped out of her workout tank and turned towards him. Standing in front of him in a pair of jogging capris and a sports bra she grinned at him, “I’ve got some time to kill, I can think of something that might help you sleep. Can’t have you cranky for the field training tonight.”

“Damn, I like it when you tuck me in,” he murmured in a gruff tone as he pulled her closer and kissed her passionately.

****** ****** *******

Buffy grinned as she watched Spike laying next to her on the floor. They’d made it to the bed this time but had fallen off of it at some point. When she made a move to get up, Spike grabbed for her wrist, “Leaving so soon?” He asked without opening his eyes.

“Yeah, Slayer training stuff I told Faith I’d come find her to train after a while. Met you in the entry hall at 9:00 alright?” She kissed him.

“Better get going then, don’t want to start something and be late. Nothing like shagging in the middle of your first day at your new job.”

“It’s not like it’s really my first day. I do the same thing in Rome, just on a much smaller scale, and not in a castle.”

“I love seeing you shine,”

“Now who’s trying to start something we don’t have time for? Get some sleep.”

Buffy made her way down to the second training room where Faith was working out alone using one of the punching bags. They often gave the girls the afternoon off now it was summer and they were dotted round the castle and the grounds. Faith looked up from the target she had been hitting, “Hey B, what’s up?“

“Nothing really, thought I’d practice my staff work. Figured you’d be in here since a couple of the girls were already in the other training room when I came down,” Buffy picked up a quarterstaff and squared up against the dummy closest to Faith.

Faith steadied the heavy bag, “Yeah, kind of a rare opportunity to have the place to ourselves. That rain didn’t last long, a lot of the girls are out in the orchard, sort of nice.”

“Yeah,” Buffy grunted as she hit the training dummy.

“So what’s Spikie-boy up to?”

“Getting some much-needed rest,”

Faith’s eyes twinkled and she gave a barely there a grin, “Ah huhh, I hear that. Damn that man is fine.”

“Yeah, well hands off,” she said as she struck at the dummy again.

“Already tested the waters there, he didn’t bite, not even a nibble.”

Buffy paused, dropping her fists and turned towards Faith who was still hitting the bag. “Wait, what?” Buffy asked.

“Flirted with him a bit in your basement back in Sunny-D. No big thing. Even if you hadn’t come in, I doubt he would have gone for it, that guy has a one track-mind and you’re it—“ she grunted the last word as she delivered a kick.

Buffy watched her a second longer before resuming her staff work, “I guess that sort of answers my question.”

“What’s that?”

“I was going to ask you why you are the only one I haven’t had to explain everything to,” Buffy said as she continued practicing.

“Because I totally get it. I mean the soul thing is a given, plus he’s super hot,” she punched the bag in front of her a few times and continued, “must be nice having someone who can keep up with you and gets the whole Slayer thing,” she paused, hitting the bag again, “vamp’s sex on legs and he only has eyes for you B.”

“Yeah…” she agreed as she struck the floor with a particularly hard strike.

Faith stopped to look at her, “Do we need to talk?”

“No,” she waved a hand dismissively, “It’s good. I got my guy, I’m happy. What about you?” She continued twirling her staff, plunging it into the dummy’s chest, “Opps…”

“Ehh, yeah, let’s try pulling our punches on the equipment huh?”

“Sure.”

Faith hesitated, “Anyway— You already know I tried to make a go at a real relationship with Robin for a while.”

“Mind if I ask what happened?”

“Might tell you if I knew. Just packed up one day and said he wanted to go back to New York,” she shrugged, “Hurt ya know… but, sort of made me realize maybe I’d been missing out too. Something I didn’t know I actually needed before. Probably sounds stupid…”

Buffy shrugged her head before delivering another strike, “No it doesn’t. So what now?”

“Oh I’m good… There’s a hottie in town I got my eye on, just— Slayer stuff and work and— damn, when the hell did I become responsible?” Faith paused, rubbing the back of her neck.

“I think it’s a Spider-Man thing.”

Faith resumed her stance, squaring up her shoulders, “And for the cool kids?” She asked.

“Xander… it’s this whole ‘With great power comes great responsibility’ thing… sort of comes with the territory,” Buffy shrugged.

“Kinda like it, is that weird?”

Buffy chuckled darkly, “Ohh yeah… super weird…”

They both laughed at that.

“Seriously though, I need to get laid, bad,” Faith sighed.

“Could always hook up with the Scottish hottie. What’s he like anyway?”

Faith walked over to the edge of the mat to pick up a towel and let out a little groan as she whipped sweat off her neck. She grabbed her water bottle, taking a drink.

Then sighed, “He’s really nice. Freaking gorgeous. Tall, broad shoulders, great head of thick black hair, the most gorgeous baby blues, and a smile that could melt a chastity-belt.”

Buffy’s eyebrows raised with interest at that. “Hottie got a name?”

Faith didn’t look up, “Callum, his name is Callum.”

She eyed her, “He doesn’t know you like him does he?”

Faith set down her bottle and the towel, still not making eye contact. “I’m- we talk. Every time I see him he’s working.”

The corner of Buffy’s mouth pulled into a half smile, “Bartender?”

“No… he isn’t.” Faith said a little heatedly and deflated quickly, taking a deep breath. “Alright fine, he works at the hardware store, and recently started a construction business with his cousin.”

Buffy’s eyes widened and she relaxed her staff at her side, “Oh my God, that’s what all the freaky remodeling stuff has been about! The training rooms and the girls' rooms upstairs and the girls bathroom. Faith!”

“I don’t want to make things… you know— I actually think I like this guy… he’s—” she stammered uncomfortably. She was showing more vulnerability than Buffy had seen in years.

“Wow, and here I was thinking you just jumped any guy you saw.”

“God I want to… trying to turn over a new leaf…”

“Wow.” Buffy said, letting her shoulders drop.

Faith sighed in agitation. “Don’t sound too surprised. This is hard… trying to be a nice girl for a nice guy.”

Buffy shook her head and held up a hand for her to stop, “You can’t do that, you have to be yourself.”

Faith sat down heavily on the mat with her legs folded in front of her. “That came out wrong. I just mean I’m trying to do better. I’m trying to be better and if I’m going to have a guy at all, then I want one that will help me do that. Sort of thought Robin could have been that guy…”

Buffy frowned, “And now you think this is the guy?”

“I didn’t say that. I just said he was a nice, really hot guy I like.”

“The fact that we are even having this conversation is kind of a big deal. Maybe just try getting to know the guy. Let him see the real you, the good you— before you jump him.” Buffy said as she slipped her staff back into the rack by the wall.

“Like dinner and a movie? I don’t know if I could handle that, B.”

She walked over to sit across from Faith. “Who says it has to be? Let him like you for you, whatever that is.”

Faith chuckled mirthlessly, “God that’s lame, you sound like a freaking shrink or a fortune cookie or something.” Then she shot Buffy a serious look, “Guess I sort of needed to hear that, thanks.”

Faith stood back up stretching, “It’s times like this that I really miss Angel.”

“You guys really got close huhh?” Buffy asked.

“He’s a good friend. Gave me a second chance and didn’t give up on me.”

Buffy twirled her staff slowly in front of her and cleared her throat. Never thought I’d see the day when Faith getting close to him wouldn’t bother me but here it is— wow… “Anyway, what's the game plan tonight?” She asked as she stood back up and went to grab her own water bottle.

“Taking the new girls out for their first field trip.”

Buffy eyed her over the bottle as she took a long drink. “Are you sure that’s a great idea? Leaving the rest of the girls alone?”

“I’m putting Ava in charge while we’re gone, they’ll be fine for a couple of hours.” Faith said, stretching out her shoulders.

Buffy shrugged. Faith knew the girls better than she did. “Humm, yeah, I can see that… as long as they don’t start a mutiny while we’re gone. We’ll come back to find Ava tied to a chair.”

“Oh come on, have a little faith,” Faith smirked.

“Oh now that’s lame.”

#buffy the vampire slayer #buffy fanfic #fanfic #spuffy #bound #spike x buffy #buffy x spike #fanfiction

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percontaion-points · 1 year

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It’s funny being on the internet and being able to read about the life experiences of complete and utter strangers. Even if it’s nothing more than a snippet of their live, and you never see these people on fb/tumblr/twitter/whatever again...

Today’s example is of sex ed. People sharing the valuable life lessons that they learned in the class.

Me, reading through their comments, knowing full well that I was raised in a religious, republican hellscape:

IDK if I’ve ever told the story of my “sex ed” before, but here it goes...

I was in junior high. They pulled us out from gym one day. Probably because it was a requirement, but considered kind of a dumb one. Not like English or math, which the state makes you do all of these standardized tests on. Nobody tests for physical health much these days.

So we go into this room off from the side of the auditorium, where there’s this lady there. And I know that she said a lot to fill up the entire hour of class, but I’ve repressed most of my junior high experience because it was such a goddamned nightmare for me. It’s only recently that the memory of this singular, 55 minute experience bobbed up to the surface.

What I do remember is that she had one boy come up and handed him a heart made from construction paper. She then got a lot of girls to come down and pretend to date the boy. For each girl that he dated, the speaker told us that he gave himself to her. And in doing so, he “gave away part of his heart”. Here, he’d rip of pieces of the heart and give it to her.

Finally, here’s one girl who’s kept herself pure. She got a giant, plywood heart with red felt glued on over it. She gave her giant, plywood heart to the boy. The only thing she got in return was a tiny scrap of red construction paper, which was all that was left from the boy’s “flings”.

At the time, the entire thing was nothing more than a boring waste of time. I went off to whatever class I had next, probably only grateful that we’d been allowed to skip out on basketball or running or whatever sport was thrown at us that week.

But revisiting the memory of that “lesson” through the lens of an adult is... um... interesting, to say the least.

And it’s not that I’m saying that guys or girls should go and fuck literally every single person that’s remotely interested.

But it was also kind of funny about how the speaker ever commented on any of the other girls that the boy slept with. About how loose that they were. That they were also giving their hearts to the boy, too. The only goal of her story was the girl at the end, with the giant, unbreakable heart.

And we don’t know that the boy truly loved any of those random girls pulled into the example. So it seems kind of weird to judge somebody when you don’t know the first thing about them.

Yes, giving yourself to somebody can be a special event. Especially when it’s your first time.

And yes, you can look back at your first time and think “I loved him back then, but then I realized that he was a shitty person.” I think that it’s perfectly normal to have relationships as a teenager, feel like you’re so mad for them... and then wake up one day and say “Wow, what was I thinking?” If you don’t mature and changed as you grow older, then what’s the point even?

Anyway, my sex ed was really messed up. And I’m sure that some others from our class, who didn’t have easy access to fanfics like I did, who had super strict, religious parents, walked away from that “lesson” feeling ten times of messed up. They probably unpack it a lot in therapy now. (At least, I hope that they do.)

Looking back, I wish that I’d been more with it, and had started to ask the “instructor” some hard-hitting questions. Not even about sex, but like... genital herpies. Or whatever. “You came here to tell us not to have sex. Are you or are you not a qualified sex ed instructor? Why did you come here if you’re not going to tell me about my cervix? Do you even know what a cervix is? Can we talk about rape?”

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lovemikage · 2 years

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— dear diary...: the worst confession.

back to the beginning (masterlist). / a brief intermission.

a/n: hi! omg we're done with the series...that's crazy...thank you all for being here and i hope you like the conclusion <3. this is kind of a monster n took me a lot of time to write and is also NOT BETA READ OR PROOFREAD so if there's mistakes my bad og. MWAH <3 also we don't find out how the letters are sent out but let's assume it's reader's little sister because i'm not creative enough to figure out sm else

wc: 4.78k

cw: none, just mildly suggestive stuff like twice. no outright smut, mostly toothrotting fluff and angst

summary: coming back to hawkins may have been the worst decision of your life.

This was the worst day of your life.

That title had previously been held by eighth grade picture day, when Michael Wheeler spilled chocolate milk all over your new white dress during breakfast.

Funny how that works.

You were wrong.

As soon as you get out of your mom’s car you’re frowning, the sight of a familiar black impala in the driveway next to yours making your heart heavy. He was home. You hoped he didn’t notice you were too, even if your mom had probably told Karen.

Unpacking your things was even more depressing; countless polaroids lined your walls, ones you’d been adding since you were little. The smiling faces of you, your friends, and your family tug on your heartstrings. You miss when you were younger and the only worry you had was whether Steve Harrington would be at the mall that day or not. You run a hand over them, fingers pausing over the ones dedicated to Max and Mike. Your heart hurts.

After a bit of unpacking and organizing (and a few small mental breakdowns), you decide that maybe a nap would do you good; you were starting to get annoyed by the constant sniffles.

It feels like the second you close your eyes Eleven, Will, and Dustin are bursting through your door, faces flushed and chests heaving like they’d ran here.

“Up, up! Wake up! Wake up, code red–” Dustin’s screaming and your eyes pop open, sitting up in your bed and rubbing at your eyes to try and assess the situation. Once you’re satisfied no one’s dead (which is the only reason they should be waking you up, as far as you’re concerned), you turn your murderous glare towards the curly haired boy, which seems to be the only way that gets him to shut up.

“Sorry,” He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with an open palm, “It’s just –”

“They found the letters.” El and Will say it in tandem, faces contorted in worry. You notice El’s fiddling with her fingers, something she only does when she’s nervous.

You swear you feel the entire room fall away – you’re launched into space and the world around you goes fuzzy.

You come to again and see your three friends looking over you, infinitely more worried than before. You distantly hear Dustin ask if they need to hide your body and you groan, a hand coming up to hold your now pounding head while the other swats him away from you.

“God, off, please, you’re smothering me –” You sit up slowly, running your hands down your face with a deep sigh. Of course this had to fucking happen now.

You pull one of your stuffed animals to your chest, pulling your knees up and practically curling in on yourself for some type of comfort, “Okay, so – slowly. They what?”

“The letters. They found them. We don’t know how, yet, but –” Will’s panicking more than you are (externally, anyway), his leg bouncing while he speaks.

“They all got them this morning. They asked us if we knew, and –” El spots your suddenly (even more) panicked expression and smiles fondly with a shake of her head, “I’m not mad. Don’t worry. Will explained everything to Dustin and I…”

“We’re so sorry,” It’s Dustin speaking now, his voice genuine. You know it’s bad when even he doesn’t want to make a joke, “But they all want to talk to you. The three of them, anyway.”

You know exactly who he’s talking about immediately. Your head dips down so you can scream into the plush bear. Was it too late to fake your death?

–

After lots of panicking, some yelling, and a bit of awkward clarifications (“Why the hell didn’t I get a letter?” “Dustin, you’ve been dating Suzie since we were like, thirteen.” “Oh. Yeah.”), the familiar sound of your doorbell rings throughout the house and the four of you look at each other like deer caught in headlights.

“Baby, Lucas is here to see you!” Your mom’s voice floats up the stairs and you feel your heart get caught in your throat. Fuck.

“Just – just send him up, mami!” You gulp down the lump in your throat and nod to the others, slowly rising from your bed and making your way towards the door. You let it click closed behind you, leaning back against the frame to take a deep breath. You can do this.

You smile as you watch Lucas ascend the stairs, handsome as always. He’s always been the one out of all of you with the most style and it shows, varsity jacket hanging around his shoulders and the coolest sneakers to match. You get why fourteen year old you had such a big crush on him.

“You’re back!” Is all Lucas can say once he gets to the landing, arms shooting out to wrap around you and bring you into one of the most suffocating bear hugs you’ve ever experienced. It’s the best feeling in the world.

You relax almost instantly, arms looping around him to hold him close, head resting on his shoulder. “I’m back,” You say through a laugh, tears brimming your eyes. You really missed him; he’d been the one to keep you sane for nearly four years, and a bond like that isn’t easily forgotten just by going to different schools.

You pull back and then you’re both silent for a few seconds; it feels like an eternity. You keep your head to the ground, too scared to look him in the eyes, and his hands are shoved into his jacket pockets – you’re both the picture of an awkward conversation.

But then you hear him laugh and you tilt your head up to look at him, eyebrows furrowed together.

“You feel butterflies in your tummy when I smile? Really?”

Your hands shoot up to cover your face, shaking your head in embarrassment and scrunching your nose, “God, really? I was fourteen! When you’re fourteen you’re always overdramatic!” Despite your words, you’re laughing, a full belly laugh that shakes your shoulders and makes your eyes crinkle up at the edges.

Lucas only chuckles with you, pulling you in for another hug and letting his head rest on top of yours. For a second, it’s just that – a comfortable silence, only pierced by periodic laughs.

He pulls away but keeps his hands on your shoulders, making sure you look up at him, “We’re okay, yeah? Promise. And – Max doesn’t care either. She’s got her own shit to sort out, but…” You know what’s coming next and you cringe. Shit.

“Talk to her soon, yeah? She’s home right now…” The boy trails off, averting his eyes for a second before turning back to you, face suddenly serious, “I’m not mad either. She wouldn’t tell any of us what the letter said, but it’s not really hard to figure out…I love you, yeah? Always.”

You smile, though this time it’s tinged with sadness. You didn’t think you were ever prepared to deal with this. You wished you’d had the choice of when to do so.

But you nod, trying to give him some form of reassurance even as the pit in your stomach grows, “Mhm – I love you too, Luc. Always.”

“Oh thank god–”

You hear a collective sigh from behind your door and roll your eyes. Lucas eyes you with a raised brow and you shake your head, pushing the door open and hearing the three behind it yell out various versions of ‘ow’.

“Nosy,” You chide, though your smile is fond, motioning towards Lucas to come into the room, “C’mon. I need a good pep talk if I’m ever stepping out of this damn house.”

—

You ended up requiring a bribe to leave your room – it came in the form of a strawberry milkshake Dustin made Lucas go get for you (after a lot of arguing as to why Dustin couldn’t drive yet).

The car ride to Max’s was mostly quiet. You told them that they could just wait outside for a bit, not wanting Max to think you brought all of them to listen; in reality, they were your only ride if things went south – which the knot in your stomach kept telling you they would.

You step out of the car with a heavy heart, ducking your head back in to address your friends, “If I'm not back in fifteen, assume I’ve killed myself and come get me. Thanks.”

The gravel road crunches under your sneakers as you make your way towards Max’s trailer, hands shoved in your jacket pockets and breath so shaky you can hear it. Once you finally reach her door you take a deep breath, slowly bringing your fist up to knock on the door. You can do this, you can do thi–

The door falls away from your hand and swings open. You jump back with a yelp, eyes widening and body tensing up.

“Sorry –” You’re met with a mess of red hair and a light smile, big blue eyes watching you in amusement, “You were taking really long. I heard you guys pull up – I’m not deaf, you know. Didn’t mean to scare you, though.”

Max pauses. Waits for you to laugh and tell her she’s fine. Realizes you’re not going to.

“Um –” She steps away from the door, motioning for you to come in, “Come in. Just – head to my room. Mom’s not home.”

You nod, gulping down the lump in your throat and walking towards your room looking like you’ve got your tail tucked between your legs. Unbeknownst to you she flips the car off, unable to stop the smile that curves her lips at the offended glares she gets back.

You perch yourself on the edge of her bed, entirely unlike the way you used to just plop down on it after school. You kick your legs out in an effort to distract yourself, hands kept neatly in your lap. Much too proper for Max’s taste. She eyes you from her place against her dresser, frowning slightly.

“Hey – who are you and where’s my best friend?” Her words come out playful – trying to be, anyway, but it just makes you realize how shitty the situation is, “Let her out for a bit, please? College couldn’t have changed you that much.”

You sigh, eyes flicking up to meet hers with a sad smile, “Hi, Maxie.”

“There she is,” The redhead can’t help but grin, pushing herself off of her dresser to sit next to you on the bed. She knocks her shoulder against yours, “I missed you, y’know. You didn’t even come back for Christmas. You love Christmas. And I didn’t know why, but after reading the letter…” It seems she has to steel herself before speaking, “It wasn’t ‘cause of me, right?”

Your eyebrows immediately scrunch together and you shake your head vigorously, eyes widening, “No! No – god, no, Maxie, it wasn’t you. It could never be you –” You grab her hands in yours, marveling at how soft they are and trying to put on a reassuring smile, “I promise, okay? I just … needed to be away. This place smothers me.”

She nods, and then a silence falls over the room. You’re both staring at your shoes, wondering where to go from here. The contents of the letter hangs over the both of you like an uncomfortably weighted blanket.

“Frisco’s really nice during Christmas, you know–” It’s a way to bring it up without bringing it up, “I’m glad I chose the university there…you’d really like it.”

“I’m sure I would –” You don’t look at her but you can hear the smile in her voice, “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but – for what it’s worth, nothing you felt was…wrong. I felt the same. I was just scared, and – you know I hate being scared.”

Your head actually does lift up this time, looking at her in disbelief. You’re so angry at the hope that stabs through your heart you almost shut down again.

But you can’t keep running away from this.

“You did?”

“Mhm, I did,” Max meets your eyes, nodding. Her smile is sad and her eyes are watery. Your heart hurts – Max never cries, “I think that’s why I told you first. You’re the only one I felt comfortable enough with…but then you left, and I really only had Will to relate to.”

“I’m so–”

“Shhh,” She shakes her head, finger pressed against your lips. It surprises you enough that you actually listen, “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? We were kids. And I’m gonna keep that letter forever, just so you know – it’s special to me. And nothing’s gonna take that away.”

You feel hot tears stream down your face. You hadn’t even realized they were forming.

“I wanna give you something, okay? As a welcome back gift. Maybe a bit of closure.”

You’re confused, but you nod, stock still while you wait for her to go grab whatever gift it was, expecting to see a bag or something.

But then you feel her soft hands cup your face, cold skin cooling your burning cheeks. She’s pulling you closer; your eyes go wide and you try to move back.

“B-but – Maxie, Lucas –”

She laughs again, and the furrow of your brows only gets deeper. What the hell was happening?

“He said I could do this. He figured it would help us both…accept ourselves, or something. I don’t know. He’s oddly supportive,” Max shrugs, the picture of nonchalance, but her hands on your cheeks are shaking. She’s scared, “We – we don’t have to. I just thought you might want–”

“Do it, Maxie–” Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper, “Kiss me. Please.”

She surges forward, your confirmation all she needs to press her lips to yours. It’s soft, but there’s so much passion behind it – years of pent up feelings bubbling back to the surface. It’s everything you ever thought it would be and more, your body immediately melting into hers. Your hands steady themselves on her waist, trying to hold you up. You swear you could faint.

It takes a bit before she pulls away – there’s no tongue and no touching, but it somehow feels more intimate, just your lips moving together and trying to say everything you both never could. When she pulls away you’re both breathing heavily, and your eyes are glassy. You feel dizzy.

You both stare at each other for a second, smiling like maniacs. And then you start laughing, girlish giggles similar to the ones you shared when you used to talk about boys with El. The weight on your shoulders gets just a bit lighter.

“Better?” She asks between laughs.

“Much.” You nod, lunging forward to tackle her in a hug. You’d missed her so much.

“Aye, tiger, be careful –” Max giggles, fiery hair splayed out on the sheets behind her. She looks so pretty, you think, but the heartache is gone. It’s just wistfulness, now. A bittersweet feeling.

She looks at you with raised eyebrows and a wide smile, “You wanna sleep over?”

You nod eagerly, toothy grin matching hers. You guys stay there for a second, hugging and cuddling like old times. It feels like you’re a little high schooler again.

“Did she kill herse– woah, jesus – when I said you guys could kiss, I didn't mean to go this far!” Lucas’s voice pierces the silence and you immediately roll off of Max, shaking your head.

“We’re clothed! Oh my god, we’re clothed–”

“...You told them they could kiss?” Dustin’s voice is laced with judgment, matched by Eleven and Will’s scrunched up faces.

“Oh my god, yes, Dustin, I’m a supportive boyfriend –” Lucas shoots back, removing his hand from covering his eyes, “God. Don’t scare me like that again, I almost regretted it–”

The four of them stop, then, taking the two of you in. Your smiling faces and glinting eyes.

“All good?” El asks, silently cheering inside that she has her best friends back.

“All good.” You and Max say it at the same time, nodding – before turning to each other and laughing, “Jinx.”

“Good.” Will says, clasping his hands together – that was two out of three, and you probably wouldn’t even have to deal with the third until tomo–

“Hello? Hellooooo?” The static voice of Michael Wheeler sounds through the old walkie on Max’s desk and you swear your heart drops into your ass. Fuck.

You all look at each other with panicked eyes, mouths agape.

“Earth to Max’s house. Look, you don’t have to answer, but – tell y/n to come talk to me? I know you’re all there, I asked her mom. Mike, over and out.”

“God, why does he still say that?” Max shakes her head, a look of disgust on her face.

“No clue – it’s stupid, right? I keep telling him it’s stupid,” Will shrugs, matching Max’s face.

They all look at you, then, and another silence falls over the room. This time it’s filled with dread, and you’re reminded of the remaining weight pushing you down.

Max looks at you with a soft, sad smile, her hand on your shoulder; you feel El’s smaller one on the other side.

“Guess no sleepover today.” You sigh, clasping your hands together before putting on a fake upbeat tone, “I’m gonna need another milkshake to get through it. Ice cream, anyone?”

—------

The five of you pull up to your house sipping milkshakes, your own already half done. Anxiety sipping.

You notice Mike’s impala isn’t in the driveway and your shoulders collapse in an odd sense of relief. Maybe you would be able to wait until tomorrow. At least then you could prepare.

“Want us to wait?” Max asks, expression concerned.

You shake your head, offering up a smile to your friends – it’s the opposite of reassuring, but they know you’re trying, “M’good. I’ll call you guys in the morning, yeah? Be by the phone.”

They all nod; your legs feel like lead when you get out of the car. They wait until you get in the door to drive away, and you watch them leave, processing how for the first time since all of this happened, you’re alone. Well and truly.

There’s a note on your bed from your mom when you get in your room: ‘Mike was over. Why haven’t you talked to him? Your dad and I are going to the casino tonight, so don’t wait up. We might not be home. Please don’t shut yourself in your room, okay? We love you. – Mom.’

You sigh, setting the note on your bedside table and plopping yourself down on your bed with an ‘oof’. You hate when she’s right.

You have about ten seconds of peace before you start hearing tapping at your window – it’s inconsistent and it sounds like hail. You know what it is immediately.

You walk over, parting your pink curtains and shoving your window up, narrowly dodging a rock in the process, “You know you’re supposed to stop when you see me at the window, right?”

“I didn’t see you!” The dark haired boy below you is whisper-yelling, looking at the handful of rocks in his hand before dropping it in embarrassment, “I thought I’d have to bring the boombox out or something, you’ve been ignori–”

“I’m not ignoring you!” You lie, irritation lacing your voice, “Just – come in, okay? I’ll go down and let you in, you’re going to get a co–”

Mike nods, already getting ready to scale the ladder at the side of your window before he registers you’ve stopped talking, looking down with a raised brow. He looks up with scrunched features, shaking his hair out of his face, “What?”

“They’re not home, stupid. Come through the front door.” You shake your head, shoving your windowsill down and closing your curtains again.

Shit, shit, shit.

It’s all you can think while you walk downstairs, taking two steps at a time before swinging open the front door. You’re greeted by the sight of Mike Wheeler, all lanky limbs and dumb doe eyes. You want to hit him.

“You weren’t supposed to be home.” You start, frowning.

“Wha–”

“Your car. It wasn’t in the driveway.”

“It’s in the garage. I figured you’d run if you saw it.”

God. You hate how well he knows you.

“Well – come in. The bugs are going to eat you alive out there.”

You step away from the door, gesturing for him to walk in. You’re already walking up to your room when you realize he isn’t moving, turning, “Are you going to follow me or not?”

“Oh, ri – yeah, yeah, cool –” He’s nearly tripping over himself to catch up to you, following you up the stairs like a lost puppy.

You settle yourself on the edge of your bed, feet kicking while you wait for him to figure out where he’s gonna go. Mike decides on your desk chair, gingerly picking up the stuffed animal that had been perched on it and holding it close in his lap. He knew better than to be mean to them.

“So –” You begin, hoping that if you act dumb this would be easier, “What did you need to talk to me about? Is it because I wasn’t answering your letters? I was just bus–”

“It’s about a letter, yeah, but you know it’s not about those ones,” Mike shoots back quickly, eyebrows raised in a knowing look. It shuts you up, gives him a bit more confidence to say what he does next.

“You’re in love with me?”

You have to breathe deeply. This sucks. You’d hidden it for years and it had to come out like this? You feel hot embarrassment flush your body and you try to deny it at first.

“I wrote that over a year ago–”

“And then you left and didn’t talk to me for that next year, so consider us back right where we left off. Are you in love with me, y/n?”

You contemplate lying. Or jumping out of the window and killing yourself. Both sound lovely right now.

But then you look up and meet his gaze – it’s one of a desperate man whose entire world seems to have fallen apart in the last week. One who needs reassurance.

And just like that, you feel yourself fold. You never were good at hiding things from him.

So you nod, the tears you thought you weren’t hydrated enough to produce welling up in your eyes, falling down into your lap.

“I–I am, Mikey. Always have been, you read it–” You sniffle, a sorrowful smile on your face. You don’t think you’ve ever been this embarrassed in your life.

“I–”

“Don’t. Please? Don’t try and let me down easy, or something, or say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’, just – just forget it? We can move on like it never happened, I swear–”

“Jesus, let me talk, will you?” He strides towards you in what seems like a flash, big hands cupping your cheeks and gently pulling your head up to meet his eyes, “You never let me talk.”

You nod, trying not to meet his gaze. Every time you blink another tear falls against his skin and you mumble a sorry, but then he’s shushing you, thumbs wiping at your tears.

“You look pretty when you cry,” Mike murmurs it under his breath but it’s loud enough for you to hear, and your teary eyes go wide for what feels like the twentieth time today. Pretty?

“You’re so dumb,” He continues, shaking his head and chuckling a bit while he pushes a strand of hair from your forehead. His voice is so soft, his touch so gentle. You feel yourself nuzzle your head into his hand, leaning into his touch. It’s addictive.

“I love you too,” It’s those words that make your breath hitch. You feel like you’re having a heart attack, your heart beating out of your chest and your stomach doing somersaults. He loves you too?

“And I wish you would have told me sooner. By the time El came around I figured you didn’t like me – don’t look at me like that, I was twelve,” He rolls his eyes, knowing that even if you aren’t talking you’d figure out a way to judge him somehow, “And then by the time we broke up, you were gone…they’d taken you. That’s how I saw it, anyway–”

He sighs, pulling you closer so your head is resting against his stomach, lean muscle underneath more comforting than you remember. His hands rub circles and trace shapes into your shoulders, your back, remembering how much it used to soothe you.

“And then when I finally realized that maybe I should get off my ass and do something, you were gone.”

Mike pauses, laughing almost bitterly to himself, “Wanna know a secret?”

When you nod against him he smiles to himself, “I figured it out that night, too. In my room. When I said you were my number one girl I wasn’t lying – haven’t even looked at anyone since then. Everyone else just started to look like you. – Look at me, please?”

You pull back, eyes glossy with tears, puffy and red. One of his thumbs strokes your cheek, his own voice sounding choked up, “There she is. You’re so pretty…god, we lost a lot of time, didn’t we?”

You continue looking up at him and he laughs, this time paired with a shake of his head, “You can talk now, nerd.”

“Finally, God, that was the worst – don’t you know not letting me talk is t-torture?” You glare up at him through your tears, bottom lip jutted out in a pout. He thinks it’s the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

“Can –” You hiccup, sniffle a little, “Can you kiss me now? If I have to go through any more embarrassing confessions today, I’m going to pass out from emotional exhaustion. I just wanna skip to where we’re happy and you’re my boyfriend.”

Mike rolls his eyes at you but nods, unable to stop the grin on his features, “We can do that. One question, though –”

You tilt your head in confusion, brow raised but still encouraging him to continue.

“My big doe eyes? My big hands? My shaggy hair? You were kinda whipped, huh?”

“Oh my god, shut up shut up, if you don’t kiss me in two seconds I’m going to punch y–”

And then you feel the soft press of slightly chapped lips against you. You taste the cotton candy chapstick he’d never stopped buying after you gave one to him when you were twelve. You finally understand what movies and books mean when they say fireworks went off after a kiss. Everything feels right, and Mike’s tongue sliding against yours feels like the most natural thing in the world. The way you both inch up the bed until he’s hovering above you feels like it was meant to happen, and the way you press your noses together and giggle feels long overdue. That weight on your shoulders falls away completely.

It’s perfect.

–

“Virgin still? Blink once for yes and twice for no,” Your hand shoots out to smack Dustin’s cap off of his head, rolling your eyes when he shouts ‘hey! No violence!’.

“None of your business, Henderson – what me and my boyfriend do is confidential.” Your words are met with a groan from the rest of the group – except for El and Will, who only give you happy smiles. They haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. You hadn’t stopped referring to Mike as your boyfriend for the entire day, too high on the adrenaline of finally being able to call him yours (and being newly deflowered).

You hadn’t had a movie night with your friends in the Wheeler’s basement in a long, long time. You’re mad at yourself for thinking you hadn’t missed it.

“He might be your boyfriend, but does he have great hair and really big muscles?” Steve interjects, flexing his arm and letting his hand squeeze the muscle that bulges out.

“Oh, or really pretty blue eyes?” Nancy smirks, eyebrows raised.

“But is he, like, the total package? Cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the kids?” Jonathan grins while he walks down the stairs, his arm draping over Nancy’s shoulders easily.

Your hands shoot up to cover your face and you curl up into Mike’s side, shaking your head fervently and squealing, “Stop it! Oh my god, you guys suck, I was a baby! Those don’t count!”

The sounds of breathless laughter fills the room and you peek through your fingers to look at all of your friends, for once feeling like you don’t have to run away from them. Like maybe you could stay a while.

✧･ﾟ — taglist (thank you for being here!): @dilflover3333 @bbymochi1 @amourrs @fentibeauty @moonylantsovs @sage111222 @ronaldiary @thel0v3hashira143 @livieweasley @larryrickardlover @littletroublegirl444 @fairyqueenxx007 @maxmayfieldsrealgf1986 @southernvamp @cybergiirl @softpia @the-great-himbo @honeydotc0m @honey-with-tea @sl0thsblog @stiles-stark @thecraziestcrayon @all-for-kpop @universce @73vyn @matthiashelvarsgf @ch4ot1ccoff1n @luv4mike @ihyperfixatetoomuch @queenelizabethsleftnipple @emilymay07

#mike wheeler x reader #mike wheeler imagine #mike wheeler x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #max mayfield x fem!reader #max mayfield x reader #dd.

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harlowhockeystick · 3 years

Text

In The Middle Of The Night - Quinn Hughes

request: can i have some soft quinn hughes smut maybe?? like maybe he just got home from a long roadie and he missed you, or maybe he was gone over some important date and he's gotta make up for it?

contains: smut (18+ MINORS DNI), cuss words, little plot,

word count: 1,764

tagging: @multistann @snidneycrabby @owenpowerstapejob @lorrmorr

“Hey baby,” Quinn’s voice came through the phone in the late hours of the night. Well, late for him. Quinn was currently on the east coast, playing a series of games in New York, Philadelphia, and then Carolina, making a couple stops in Toronto and then Detroit on the way back.

He was exhausted; long roadies did that to him. Being in different time zones in two weeks can take it out of a person. All of the hotel beds and food begin to blend together. He loves that he gets to live out his dream and play the sport he loves, with teammates he loves, but he sure does miss his own bed during weeks like these.

“I’m sorry I wasn't there today,” he said. Today wasn’t the most important date in the world, but you were looking forward to it. There was a charity dinner that you had to attend for the company you worked for, and Quinn had said yes to being your date. “I know you were looking forward to it.”

“It’s okay, there will be more charity dinners.” you assured, rolling over in bed, wishing he was right in front of you instead of across the country.

“You looked hot in your dress though,” he quickly added, making you giggle. “No i’m serious, you looked fucking stunning.” now you’re blushing, staring over at the wall and pulling his pillow close to you, which is something you often did when he was gone. “And if I were there it would be on the floor the minute we walked in the door.” Quinn kept going, making you push your face into the pillow and take a deep breath.

“Quinn you’re killing me,” you pleaded, your voice sounding more desperate. You could almost see the smirk on his face if you think really hard about it. You know he’s loving every second of this, teasing and prodding at you from afar. But there is a part of him that loathes it as well. Not being able to see the reaction of his words on you, and not being able to follow through with his words.

“I’ll make up for it when I get back tomorrow night, I promise.” His words make you roll your eyes back in your head. You don’t want to have to wait another twenty four hours to see him, nonetheless feel him.

He tells you more about his trip, the game and something funny that Elias said in the locker room during the intermission. He goes on about some other interesting things that happened while out and about, saying that his mom can’t wait to see both of you when he goes to play in New Jersey. By the time he gets through with his storytelling you’re fast asleep against the pillow, with Quinn's soft monotone voice helping you stay there, dreaming about tomorrow evening when he would walk through the front door.

The house was dimly lit, almost dark enough for Quinn to trip over the rug if he hadn’t been paying attention. He scanned the house and noticed that you had already gone to bed, the only light coming from the Christmas tree that still needed to be taken down. He unplugged it and made his way down the hall where he took quiet and light footsteps, careful to not wake you in case you were asleep. He doubted you were, when he is on long road trips like these ones he knows you always try your best to stay awake when he finally gets to come home.

Opening the door he finds you laying on your side facing the door, with nothing but a silk robe on, fast asleep. He grins to himself, only imagining what you had planned for him if you were in fact awake. He doesn’t take too long slipping into a long sleeve tee and keeping his boxers on. He leaves his suitcase for tomorrow, not in the mood to unpack it. Quinn carefully gets in bed, reaching over you easily to grab the remote to the television to find something quiet to lull him to sleep. It’s when he reaches over you once more to turn off your lamp that you wake up and notice his presence.

You hum lightly, picking up your arms and wrapping them around his torso. He looks down and smiles, leaning forward to give you a kiss on your forehead. “I wanted to stay up for you,” you mumbled, looping your arms around his neck as he rolled over onto his back, bringing you with him. He groans, noticing how the robe you have on is just inches away from falling off.

“I can tell,” he responds, his hands pulling you further up onto his body so that you’re now resting on his torso. He tries to be civil and keep his eyes on yours, but he’s having a hard time doing that. He slips his hands underneath your robe, his cold palms resting on your hips, threatening to bust your robe open. “I missed you, Y/N.”

You hummed and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips softly. “I missed you more,” you responded, tucking some hair behind your ears so that it wouldn’t fall in his face. The two of you stayed like that for a while, kissing each other with such intent.

“Why don’t you show me then?” he urged as you pulled away for a breath. Slowly, while keeping eye contact, he untied your robe and pushed the sides of the robe off your shoulders, letting it fall down your body delicately. Sitting up straight he leans against the headboard and takes in your body, the curves, the marks, the beauty of it all.

You pull at his shirt, indicating that you want it off. “C’mon Quinn, you’ve got too much on.” you whined. He pulled the shirt off quickly and tossed it to the side. As he did you spread your hands across his chest, leaning closer to him for a kiss. He pulled away for a second, keeping eye contact with you as he licked his hand and pressed it against your cunt. His fingers rubbed your wetness around, and soon his hand was covered and messy.

You spread your legs and leaned forward, lightly placing your right hand on his cheek and your lips against his. Quinn rubbed his fingers in a circular motion, his hand pressing hard against you. His fingers were rubbing against your pussy with intent, making your eyes roll back in your head and your mouth fall open slightly. He slipped his tongue in your mouth. With his free hand he lifted your head up to kiss you better.

Adjusting your posture you sat up straight, leaning your head back as Quinn continued to rub his hand over your pussy. His middle and index finger rubbed over your clit in tight circles. You let out light moans and closed your eyes, feeling your body tense up at the action. You took hold of his free hand and pressed it against your breast and without a second to spare quinn squeezed your breast, palming it and massaging it.

Both actions mixed together were enough to push you over the edge. Gently you moaned- moaned his name and whatever else came to mind. No matter how many times you tried to imagine it, his hand would never compare to yours.

Pulling his hand away from in between your legs he saw just how messy it was. Glistening with your juices you felt slightly embarrassed, even more when he kept eye contact with you and licked it off himself. Wiping his hand on the bed sheet he moved you closer to him. Opening his mouth around your nipple he sucked on it, his hands running up and down your back as he pulled your chest closer to him.

Your mind was cloudy, from the way his mouth was working on you and how his hands were so soft against your skin. You managed to reach behind you and pull back his boxers, letting his hard cock spring free. He pulled back for a second as the cooler air hit the most sensitive part of his body. “Can I ride you, Quinn?” you asked, your voice covered in lust as you pulled back a little.

The robe you were wearing was still on, only on your wrists. But you pulled it up to your shoulders and licked your hand, wrapping it around his cock. Making sure that he was wet enough you slowly sunk down on him, your tight whole being stretched at his size. He brought his hand up to your cheek, and a sudden dirty thought came to mind. Turning your head you took two of his fingers in your mouth and you moaned- there was still a slight hint of your honey on his fingers.

And he moaned too. The feeling of your mouth sucking his fingers and your cunt squeezing his cock; it was nearly too much. You started to move your hips just like you knew how, breasts slightly bouncing in his face. Quinn was loving every second of it. He didn’t realize how much he missed this until he was buried inside you as he leaned against the headboard. He took his fingers out of your mouth and rested his hands on your hips, slowly guiding them on his dick.

His hands then traveled to your breasts, gripping them as you hurried your movements. Both of you were anxious to cum, ready to cum. He tightened his grip and held your body down on his cock as he fucked up into you, closing his eyes and letting out a string of gritted teeth curses.

“Cum inside me Quinn…please i need it, fill me up Quinny,” you encouraged and that was all he needed. His mind became fuzzy as he came inside you. Moaning out as you felt his hot cum spill inside you, at the same time you came too, allowing your head to fall back and hold onto his hands that were still holding onto your boobs.

You both came down from your highs and made eye contact. He moved forward and pressed his lips against yours, moving his hands up to your hair and kissing you deeply. Quinn lifted you up and pulled out of you, both of you groaning at the action. You picked your head up and kissed him again, “don’t worry, we’ll do it again tomorrow.”

He smirked and kissed you again, “yeah, all damn day.”

・。♡.・゜✭・.・✫・゜✭・。. ♡・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜♡・。

- thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it. feedback and comments are always appreciated!

xo, j

masterlist | feedback | taglist

#j's writing #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #hockey #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagine

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tarobytez · 3 years

Text

disability in the Six Of Crows Duology; an analysis of Kaz Brekker, Wylan Van Eck, and the fandom’s treatment of them.

****Note: I originally wrote this for a tiktok series, which im still going to do, but i wanted to post here as well bc tumblr is major contributor to what im going to talk about

CW: ableism, filicide, abuse

In the Six of Crows duology, Leigh Bardugo delicately subverts and melds harmful disability tropes into her narrative, unpacking them in a way that I, as a disabled person, found immensely refreshing and…. just brilliant.

But what did you all do with that? Well, you fucked it up. Instead of critically looking at the characters, y’all just chose to be ableist.

For the next few videos paragraphs im going to unpack disability theory (largely the stuff surrounding media, for obvious reasons) and how it relates to Six Of Crows and the characterization of Kaz Brekker and Wylan Van Eck, then how, despite their brilliant writing, y’all completely overlooked the actual text and continuously revert them to ableist cariactures.

Disclaimer: 1. Shocker - i am disabled. I have also extensively researched disability theory and am very active in the disabled community. Basically, I know my shit. 2. im going to be mad in these videos this analysis. Because the way y’all have been acting has been going on for a long ass time and im fuckin sick of it. I don’t give a shit about non-disabled feelings, die mad

Firstly, I’m going to discuss Kaz, his play on the stereotypical “mean cripple” trope and how Bardugo subverts it, his cane, and disabled rage. Then, I am going to discuss Wylan, the “inspiration porn” stereotype, caregivers / parents, and the social model of disability. Finally, I will then explain the problems in the fandom from my perspective as a disabled person, largely when it comes to wylan, bc yall cant leave that boy tf alone.

Kaz Brekker

Think of a character who uses a cane (obviously not Kaz). Now, are they evil, dubiously moral, or just an asshole in general? Because nearly example I can think of is: whether it be Lots’O from Toy Story, Lucius Malfoy, or even Scrooge and Mr.Gold from Once Upon A Time all have canes (the last two even having their canes appear less and less as they become better people)

The mean/evil cripple trope is far more common than you would think. Villains with different bodies are confined to the role of “evil”. To quote TV Tropes, who I think did a brilliant job on explaining it “The first is rooted in eugenics-based ideas linking disability or other physical deformities with a "natural" predisposition towards madness, criminality, vice, etc. The Rule of Symbolism is often at work here, since a "crippled" body can be used to represent a "crippled" soul — and indeed, a disabled villain is usually put in contrast to a morally upright and physically "perfect" hero. Whether consciously on the part of the writer or not, this can reinforce cultural ideas of disability making a person inherently inferior or negative, much in the same way the Sissy Villain or Depraved Homosexual trope associate sexual and gender nonconformity with evil. ”

Our introduction to Kaz affirms this notion of him being bad or morally bankrupt, with “Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason”, etc. This mythologized version of himself, the “bastard of the barrel” actively fed into this misconception. But, as we the audience are privy to his inner thoughts, know that he is just a teenager like every other Crow. He is complex, his disability isn’t this tragic backstory, he just fell off a roof. It’s not his main motivation, nor does he curse revenge for making him a cripple - it is just another part of who he is.

His cane (though the shows version fills me with rage but-) is an extension of Kaz - he fights with it, but it has a purpose. Another common thing in media is for canes to be simply accessories, but while Kaz’ cane is fashionable, it has purpose.

The quote “There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.” is so fucking powerful. Kaz does not want nor need a cure - its said in Crooked Kingdom that his leg could most likely be healed, but he chooses not to. Abled-bodied people tend to dismiss this thought as Kaz being stubborn but it shows a reality of acceptance of his disability that is just, so refreshing.

In chapter 22 of SOC, we see disabled rage done right - when he is called a cripple by the Fjerdan inmate, Kaz is pissed - the important detail being that he is pissed at the Fjerdan, at society for ableism, not blaming it on being disabled or wishing he could be normal. He takes action, dislocating the asshole’s shoulder and proving to him, and to a lesser extent, himself, that he is just as capable as anyone else, not in spite of, but because he is disabled. And that is the point of Kaz, harking back to the line that “there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken”.

I cried on numerous occasions while reading the SOC duology, but the parts I highlighted in this section especially so. I, as many other disabled people do, have had a long and tumultuous relationship with our disability/es, and for many still struggle. But Kaz Brekker gave me an empowered disabled character who accepts themselves, and that means the world to me.

Keeping that in mind, I hope you can understand why it hurts so much to disabled people when you either erase Kaz’s disability (whether through cosplay or fanfiction), or portray him as a “broken boy uwu”, especially implying that he would want a cure. That flies in the face of canon and is inherently fucking ableist. (if u think im mad wait until the next section)

Next, we have Wylan.

Oh fucking boy.

I love Wylan so fucking much, and y’all just do not seem to understand his character? Like at all? Since this is disability-centric, I’m not going to discuss how the intersection of his queerness also contributes to these issues, but trust me when I say it’s a contributing factor to what i'm going to say.

Wylan, motherfucking Van Eck. If you ableist pricks don’t take ur fucking hands off him right now im going to fight you. I see Wylan as a subversion another, and in my opinion more insidious stereotype pf disabled people - inspiration porn.

Cara Liebowitz in a 2015 article on the blog The Body Is Not An Apology explains in greater detail how inspiration porn is impactful in real life, but media is a major contributing factor to this reality. The technical definition is “the portrayal of people with disabilities as inspirational solely or in part on the basis of their disability” - but that does not cover it fully.

Inspiration porn does lasting damage on the disabled community as it implies that disability is a negative that you need to “overcome” or “triumph” instead of something one can feel proud of. It exploits disabled people for the development of non-disabled people, and in media often the white male protagonist. Framing disability as inherently negative perpetuates ideals of eugenics and cures - see Autism $peaks’ “I Am Autism” ad. Inspiration porn is also incredibly patronizing as it implies that we cannot take care of ourselves, or do things like non-disabled people do. Because i stg some of you tend to think that we just sit around all day wishing we weren’t disabled.

Another important theory ideal that is necessary when thinking about Wylan is the experience of feeling like a burden simply for needing help or accommodations. This is especially true when it comes to familial relationships, and internalized ableism.

The rhetoric that Wylan’s father drilled into his head, that he is “defective”, “a mistake”, and “needs to be corrected”, that he (Jan) was “cursed with a moron for a child” is a long held belief that disabled people hear relentlessly. And while many see Van Eck’s attempted murder of Wylan as “preposturous” and overall something that you would never think happens today - filicide (a parent murdering their child) is more common than you would like to believe. Without even mentioning the countless and often unreported deaths of disabled people due to lack of / insufficient / neglectful medical care, in a study on children who died from the result of household abuse, 40 of 42 of them (95%) were diagnosed with disabilities. Van Eck is not some caricature of ableist ideals - he is a real reflection on how many people and family members view disability.

Circling back to how Wylan unpacks the inspiration porn trope - he is 3 dimensional, he is not only used to develop the other characters, he is just *chefs kiss* Leigh, imo, put so much love and care into the creation of Wylan and his story and character growth that is representative of a larger feeling in the disabled community.

That being said, what you non-disabled motherfuckers have done to him.

The “haha Wylan can’t read” jokes aren’t and were not funny. Y’all literally boiled down everything Wylan is to him being dyslexic. And it’s like,,,, the only thing you can say about him. You ignore every other part of him other than his disability, and then mock him for it. There’s so much you can say about Wylan - simping for Jesper, being band kid and playing the fuckin flute, literally anything else. But no, you just chose to mock his disability, excellent fucking job!

Next up on “ableds stfu” - infantilization! y’all are so fucking condescending to Wylan, and treat him like a fucking toddler. And while partly it is due to his sexuality i think a larger portion is him being disabled. Its in the same vein of people who think that Wylan and Jesper are romantically one sided, and that Jesper only kind of liked Wylan, despite the canon evidence of him loving Wylan just as much. You all view him as a “smol bean”, who needs protecting, and care, when Wylan is the opposite of that. He is a fucking demolitions expert who suggested waking up sleeping men to kill them - what about that says “uwu”. You are treating Wylan as a burden to Jesper and the other Crows when he is an immensely valuable, fully autonomous disabled person - you all just view him as damaged.

And before I get a comment saying that “uhhh Wylan isn’t real why do you care” while Wylan may not be real, how you all view him and treat him has real fucking impacts and informs how you treat people like me. If someone called me an “uwu baby boy” they’d get a fist square in the fucking jaw. Fiction informs how we perceive the world and y’all are making it super fucking clear how you see disabled people.

Finally, I wanted to talk about how the social model of disability is portrayed through Wylan. For those who are unaware, the social model of disability contrasts the medical model, that views the disability itself as the problem, that needs to be cured, whereas the social model essentially boils down to creating an accommodating society, where disability acceptance and pride is the goal. And we see this with Wylan - he is able to manage his father’s estate, with Jesper’s assistance to help him read documents. And this is not out of pity or charity, but an act of love. It is not portrayed as this almighty act for Jesper to play saviour, just a given, which is incredibly important to show, especially for someone who has been abused by family for his disability like Wylan, that he is accepted.

Yet, I still see people hold up Jesper on a pedestal for “putting up with” Wylan, as if loving a disabled person deserves a fucking pat on the back. It’s genuinely exhausting trying to engage with a work I love so much with a fandom that thinks so little of me and my community. It fucking shows.

Overall, Leigh Bardugo as a disabled person wrote two incredibly meticulous and empowered disabled characters, and due to either lack of reading comprehension, ableism, or a quirky mix of both, the fandom has ignored canon and the experiences of disabled people for…. shits and giggles i guess. And yes, there are issues with the Grishaverse and disability representation - while I haven’t finished them yet so I do not have an opinion on it, people have been discussing issues in the KOS duology with ableist ideals. This mini series was no way indicative of the entire disabled experience, nor does it represent my entire view on the representation as a whole. These things need to be met critically in our community, and talked about with disabled voices at the forefront. For example, the limited perspective we get of Wylan and Kaz being both white men, does not account for a large portion of the disabled community and the intersection of multiple identities.

All-in-all, Critique media, but do not forget to also critique fandom spaces. Alternatively, just shut the fuck up :)

happy fucking disability pride month, ig

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natashxromanovf · 2 years

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Blinded By Love Hate

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2599

WARNINGS: brief mention of the reader being on Cap’s side but nothing important for the story, a lot of dialogue, mentions of guns, mentions of a gunshot wound

REQUESTED: no, but part of @heloisedaphnebrightmore writing challenge, enemies to lovers

SUMMARY: A mission gone wrong leads to a confession none of you thought would ever be spoken.

A/N: vxhrqcbdsjth my first enemies to lovers, I hope y’all like it! I love this trope yet I never actually wrote it before, but there’s a first for everything, right? also, i'd like to thank @moreidsdaughter for beta-ing this <33

gif credits to @buckypascal

You and Bucky don’t necessarily hate each other; you just strongly dislike one another. It was always like this, ever since the Airport fight, and even though you were on Cap's team, just his mere presence seemed to annoy you. It’s not clear why, but there’s something about him - at least that’s what you tell yourself. Truth be told, you developed a crush on the man; you guessed it’s just easier to pretend you hate him than confess your feelings.

“Are you kidding me?” you say as you sit down, receiving the news mere seconds ago. You don’t know whose idea it was to send Bucky and you together on a mission but they sure aren’t very smart. And the bad news doesn’t end here; the mission is pretending you’re a married couple while gathering important intel, trying to figure out which of the soon-to-be neighbours is leading a dangerous organisation.

“Steve, we’re gonna kill each other before we even get there,” Bucky sighs, trying to persuade Steve to send someone else.

“Yeah, as much as I hate to admit it, I agree with metal arm here,” you confess, pointing to the man standing behind you.

“Look, I wish I could help but it’s already decided, and besides, you two have to learn how to not almost kill one another every time something happens.” he finishes, a desperate look on his face. You just sigh, standing up again and walking out after Bucky but not before Steve could whisper “good luck” into your ear, earning a smile from you. As much as you hate this assignment, maybe something good would come out of it.

Arriving at the neighbourhood you search for the given address only to stop in front of a huge house. And by huge you mean huge. Your eyes widen, mouth left agape. Bucky’s expression matches yours, almost wishing you could capture his face in a picture, using it for blackmailing later. A chuckle escapes your lips, waking him up from the trance he was previously in.

“Something funny, Y/L/N?” he asks, annoyance practically lacing his voice.

“No, not at all,” you lie, only to turn around and continue silently laughing. Your snickering is soon interrupted though, someone coming by and greeting the two of you. Quickly moving closer to Bucky you interact your fingers with his, a fake smile appearing on your face.

“Hi, nice to meet you!!” you greet back, shaking their hands, Bucky doing the same.

“You must be the new neighbours! I’m Karen and this is Russ,” the woman introduces, pointing to her husband.

“It’s nice to meet you too!” you reply, secretly nudging Bucky to show some excitement. He understands the hint, putting on a smile himself.

“Do you need any help with the boxes?” Russ asks, what would’ve been a nice gesture if he wasn’t just trying to get on your good side by wanting to help.

“Oh, no thank you,” you answer, the truck with all the items arriving as if the driver would know what you were just talking about. “We gotta go now, but it was fun meeting you!”

“You too,” she says as the two of them walk away, leaving Bucky and you to unpack.

After a couple of hours, everything is set up, from the surveillance gear to the normal stuff, you know, the usual stuff you bring when you’re moving. It isn’t much, since you aren’t going to be here for years but just enough to convince the neighbours you are, in fact, a “normal” couple.

“Do you think they are the masterminds?” you suddenly ask, pointing to the house across from you, gesturing to the couple you met before. Bucky shakes his head no, a focused pout appearing on his face.

“I don’t think so, I just think they are the usual American couple. You know, the one who pretends to like everyone but in reality really despises people,” he explains when he sees your confused expression. You bark out a laugh at that, quickly stopping yourself. It was the first genuine laugh you have ever let slip past your lips in the presence of him when it wasn’t laughing at him. That caught you off guard, leaving you confused for a second.

“I think we got different perspectives on what a basic American couple is. But I’ll take your explanation for these two, cause her name is Karen and let’s just say I don’t have many friendly encounters with Karens,” you smile, Bucky mirroring your expressions. “Also, you can bet that if she had a son she would name him Hunter or something like that,” you add, a chuckle escaping his throat. Oh, god. That sound. You would do anything to hear him do that again.

“Yeah, I can agree on that,” he replies, still not dropping the smile. You suddenly realise this is the longest conversation you have had with the man without fighting. It’s a weird feeling, he seems… less annoying now that you’re out of the compound.

“So, who’s going to be on the watch first? We know it’s one of these people living in houses around us, it’s just a matter of time before they make a mistake,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. He shrugs, saying he can start if that’s what you want. You’re surprised by his gentleness, how he just casually said “if you want to”, instead of bossing you around like he usually does. You’re slowly starting to get creeped out by all this, the Bucky sitting in front of you is not the one you know.

“Okay, sure. I guess I’ll make dinner then,” you state, cringing at the words leaving your mouth. He makes a face too, looking weirdly at you. “What, we have to eat!” you defend, Bucky raising his hands in defeat.

“I just didn’t think you were the cooking type, that’s all,” he mutters, earning an amused eye roll from you.

“There are many talents you don’t know I have,” you whisper with a wink, turning around on your heels and heading for the kitchen.

You head back to where Bucky is sitting with the surveillance gear, two plates in your hand. It smells delicious, at least to you. You decided to cook your favourite meal, thinking that if you can’t get anything good out of this mission you can at least eat tasty food.

Sitting down opposite of him you place a plate next to his arm, not disturbing his focus even a little. You turn to him, slowly starting to dig into the dish. There’s something on his face, a slight shade of discomfort that you can’t quite pinpoint the cause of.

“I’d say take a picture, it’ll last longer but I’m the one holding the camera,” he jokes, catching you in the act. You haven’t even realised you were staring until he called you out on it. You feel a blush creeping up your neck, so you focus back on eating.

“Eat before it gets cold,” you urge, pushing the plate a little closer to him. He obliges, picking up the fork and taking a bite.

“You know, this is not as terrible as I expected it to be,” he confesses, earning a slight slap on the arm from you.

“Hey!” you defend, knowing he was just teasing but giving him the satisfaction nonetheless. But when you think about it, that was a compliment. What the hell? Did James Buchanan Barnes really just compliment you? What is going on?

“Oh, that is not good,” Bucky warns, straightening up. You look at the monitor, your eyes laying on a female form, talking to a male, who’s just enough light up by a street light you recognise him as the informant for the operation the two of you are trying to take down. “Grab your gun and let’s go,” he quickly orders, and you obey. Running down the stairs to the door you point your gun at the ground, looking around the house just to be careful. After all, you wouldn’t wanna someone lurking in the house while you’re out.

Bucky looks over his shoulder to you, pointing to the side door, a silent order that means you should exit there. And once again, you do what you’re told, even though no one said he’s in charge but it’s not really the time for arguing.

Once you’re both outside you look at each other, trying to figure out what to do next without exchanging words. One look at you and you know what he’s thinking about. You both jump around the corner, where the two of them were supposed to be but the street is empty. You lower your gun, a sigh of disapproval slipping past your lips. You really thought you would solve this right about now so you can go home, away from all this weirdness.

“I know,” he says as he hears you, understanding what that was for. “Maybe they split up just as we left?” he suggests, trying to help with the disappointment.

“Probably,” you groan, turning around and starting to walk back to the house. You don’t even take five steps when shots start ringing out - even though it surprised you more than anything ever did, you duck down, your body reacts on its own. Just like the next couple of things are a blur, you somehow manage to lift up your weapon, shooting at the place where you believe the enemy is.

You can hear Bucky groaning, his body laying on the floor as his hand clutches his shoulder and after a minute when no bullets are flying around anymore you run to him, still on high alert. “Bucky!” you whisper-yell, kneeling down beside him. That’s when you see his bloodied shirt, your eyes going wide. “You’re hit.” you mutter, still not believing your eyes.

“I’ll be fine, it barely grazed me,” he assures, but you don’t believe him. Putting away your weapon you help him get up, walking back into the house. He’s practically leaning on you for support, all his power focused on not collapsing till you get to anything he can sit on.

You guide him to the kitchen where he sits on a chair behind the diner table. “Take off your shirt,” you order, already searching for gauzes and stuff to help stop the bleeding.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt, we have to stop the bleeding,” you reply in a worried tone. He obeys, taking off his shirt, hissing at the pain. You close your eyes momentarily, evening out your breathing. You need to be focused right now, your hands need to stop shaking. So you calm down a little, at least enough that you can help him with his wound. “We need to clean it up first,” you inform, swallowing hard when you sense the tremor in your voice. “This shouldn’t hurt, it’s only water,” you try to comfort as you turn to him, only now properly scanning the wound. It’s not that deep, it just grazed him as he said. The bleeding is also not that strong so it should be easy to stop.

“I told you I’m fine,” he softly mutters as his eyes lay upon your focused expression. You look at his face for a second before turning back to his arm.

“Yeah, well, I hope you know how damn lucky you are,” you comment through gritted teeth, anger now boiling inside your veins. The truth is, you don’t even know why you’re mad; he couldn’t predict the bullets, nor was it his fault one hit him. It’s just- everything is too overwhelming. The fact that you were almost shot less than a couple of minutes ago, that your partner actually was, and the worst part of all? You still don’t know the identity of the target.

“Y/N, look at me. I’m okay,” he reassures, suddenly feeling like he needs to tell you again upon hearing the rage in your voice.

“I know. I know,” you whisper, taking a couple of deep breaths. That calms you down a little, the anger disappearing, worry replacing it again. You manage to stop shaking, clean the wound and put on a bandage. He thanks you, a small smile on his lips. Now that the heat of the moment is over you realise what you did - in all the chaos you haven’t noticed you sat down on his lap, nor how weird it was, hearing him be nice to you. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay,” he a little awkwardly replies, also only now realising what you did. His reassurance is enough to make you stay put, allowing your eyes to drag along his body. Moving from the injured arm down his chest, his abs and back up to his scar, where his metal arm begins. You go to touch it but think better of it, knowing he doesn’t like people going anywhere near there with their hands. Truth be told all you want to do is run your fingers along it, or press kisses there, reminding him that The Winter Soldier is not something he has control over, kissing it better, letting him know that all those kills were not on him.

So you do. You touch the scar with the tips of your fingers, testing the water first. He flinches a little but does nothing to indicate he’s uncomfortable, making you look at his face. You stare into those ocean eyes of his, getting lost in the blue. Honestly, you’ve never thought you could ever admit even to yourself that you have feelings for him but when you look into those orbs everything seems so easy all of a sudden. Sighing you lean a little closer, momentarily allowing yourself to glance at his lips. It was so quick and so swift yet he managed to notice, finally seeing the signs that have been there since the moment the two of you met. The never-ending tension, the lingering glances, everything comes rushing to the surface.

“Bucky…”

“I know,” he mutters, crashing his lips on yours. The kiss is sweet yet passionate at the same time, all of your feelings poured into it. His hand is on your waist, the other in your hair - your arms are around his neck, trying to grip something, anything to ground yourself.

After a couple of seconds, you pull away, the urge to breathe becoming too much. You place your forehead against his, your eyes still closed as you take in what just happened. After so much time spent convincing yourself that there was nothing behind that teasing and those witty remarks, everything came crashing down. The tension finally exploded, the feelings were too much to bear.

“That was…”

“Yeah,” he agrees, still not opening his eyes. You laugh happily, still not fully believing all this. He soon joins in, finally looking at you with those beautiful eyes of his.

“I still don’t like you though,” you joke, moving away a little so you could see him properly.

“Yeah, I don’t think I do either,” he adds, pulling a couple more chuckles from you.

“I hate you,” you say, playing with his hair. You don’t really mean it, and he knows it - in fact, those words have a whole new meaning to them now.

“I hate you too,” he replies, pulling you in for another kiss. You smile into it, moving impossibly closer. He simply re-adjusts his hands, hugging you tightly, enjoying that you’re finally in his arms, that you’re finally his.

marvel taglist: @mahjaabeen @hallecarey1 @mirclealignr @cupids-crystals @mcufossilman

bucky barnes: @tenaciousperfectionunknown @pinkcloxds @jackys-stuff-blog @kimoralov3 @mollysolo @johnmurphyisqueer @fairydxll @msfandomfreak

i hope you enjoyed this! don't forget to like, reblog and/or comment, it really helps writers with motivation <33

taglist form

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #marvel fic #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #marvel fluff #marvel #mcu #james buchanan barnes #heloises3.5kcelebration

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Note

Please say more abt how Martin fits the closed off trait I'm begging 👁👁

Okay, so I got a bit carried away with this and it got quite lengthy....

I've put a TLDR above the cut and the details, transcripts, and general discussion below the cut!

TLDR: Martin is at his core a closed-off character who keeps his vulnerable feelings hidden and close to his chest. He instead focuses on caring for others and considering their feelings above his own, particularly in the case of Jon, who he cares for (sometimes to the point of self-sacrifice) throughout the podcast. His arc with the Lonely in season four and his interactions with Jon in season five demonstrate this lack of emotional vulnerability, and it's really only during the moments he spends by himself that we get significant insight into Martin's emotional state and inner thoughts.

Martin, to me, is a character who is very used to hiding how he feels. He tends to care for others at the expense of himself, has low self-esteem, and has a predilection towards the Lonely, all of which go hand-in-hand with somebody who is very used to hiding their emotions--particularly the negative ones--because they either think they're not important or that they're inconvenient and inappropriate for the situation. On a textual level, that's probably due to growing up with a sick (and likely unsupportive) mother who he had to take care of, where there was 'no time' for his emotions to get in the way or for him to prioritize himself in any way, shape, or form.

Martin is self-destructive, dislikes moments of emotional vulnerability, and (I would argue) genuinely struggles when he doesn't have somebody else to prioritize over himself. (His mother at first, but as the series goes on, Jon settles comfortably into this role for him.) Additionally, the biggest way that we, the audience, know anything about Martin's emotional state is when he's alone and self-reflecting (such as in MAG 170 and 186 or when talking to the tapes) or when he's forced to talk about something vulnerable (such as when Jon confronted him about his CV).

We don't get much insight into Martin's character between seasons one and three (at least not as much as we get in four and five), but I find myself drawn to this bit in MAG 118, when Martin is talking to Elias:

MARTIN

So what? I don’t get to be angry? I don’t get to burn things? Just, just run around, making tea, while everyone else gets to actually have feelings?

I think two things are important to note here. The first is that Elias is surprised (or least intrigued) that Martin is acting in this way--specifically, acting on his emotions in such a dramatic way. (And given that Martin is doing this as a distraction, rather than actually acting out because of his own emotions, maybe he's right to be surprised.) The second is that this line very much implies that Martin doesn't talk about how he's feeling, not like 'everyone else' does. He doesn't talk about it, doesn't act on it--just 'runs around, making tea.' And when Melanie comes back in after Elias is done, Martin immediately focuses on the plan and whether it succeeded, ignoring Melanie when she asks if he's okay or not. He closes himself off, and as far as we know, doesn't talk about it at all after that.

And then Jon goes into his coma, and we reach season four.

Martin is incredibly closed-off during season four. He's self-isolating, self-sacrificial, and approaching a state of genuine emotional numbness by the time he's cast into the Lonely. There's a lot to unpack there, but I'm going to focus on a few main things, many of which can be drawn from this bit in MAG 158:

MARTIN

It’s not him! It’s not anybody. It’s just me. Always has been. I…

When I first came to you, I thought I had lost everything. Jon was dead, my mother was dead, the job I had put everything into trapped me into spreading evil and I… I really didn’t care what happened to me. I told myself I was trying to protect the others, but… honestly we didn’t even like each other. Maybe I just thought joining up with you would be a good way to get killed.

And then… Jon came back, and… and suddenly I had a reason I had to keep your attention on me. Make you feel in control so you didn’t take it out on him. And if that meant drifting further away, so what? I’d already grieved for him. And if it meant now saving him, it was worth it.

When you started talking about the Extinction, though… you had me actually, then, for a while. But then – (laughs sardonically) then, you tried to make me the hero. Tried to sell me on the idea that I was the only one who could stop it. And that I’ve never sat right with me. I mean, I mean, look – look at me, I’m not exactly a – a chosen one. But by then I was in too deep. So I played along. Waited to see what your end game was, and here we are.

Funny. Looks like I was right the first time. It’s probably still a good way to get killed?

This monologue is a big insight into Martin's thought process during this season, and I'm mostly going to focus on two parts: the self-sacrifice and the prioritization of Jon.

Self-sacrifice

There's quite a bit of discussion about Jon's self-sacrificial tendencies, but less so about Martin's, both in this season and in season five. In my opinion, Jon's self-sacrificial tendencies originate from (among other things) survivor's guilt from his traumatic childhood experience with Mr. Spider, his increasing belief that he's less than human, and the fact that he prioritizes the lives of others over his own. Martin's self-sacrificial tendencies, while very similar, come from the fact that he thinks he only has worth if he can help and care for someone else and the fact that he doesn't think he's important enough to live. (For example, he says in MAG 158 that he's 'not exactly a chosen one' and says in MAG 198 that he's 'not important enough to kill.')

It's a subtle difference between these two things, and I would argue that while Jon's tendencies are more rooted in the 'help' (ie, 'I want to help other people and I will sacrifice myself to do it'), Martin's tendencies are more rooted in the 'hurt' (ie, 'I will sacrifice myself and other people will be helped in the process'). There is, of course, overlap, and it's not a black-and-white distinction between the two, but ultimately, I think Martin is so used to prioritizing others' emotions and needs above his own that when he's left mostly alone as he is at the end of season three, with the only person left to hold onto being in a coma (possibly forever), he falls back into the same patterns of self-destruction and closed-offness, only without the 'help' to go along with the 'hurt' because there is nobody left to help (especially after his mother dies). Ultimately, he joins up with Peter because he thinks it 'would be a good way to get killed.'

Prioritization of Jon

But then Jon wakes up from his coma, and now Martin has justification for his self-sacrifice again, because he can protect Jon by continuing to work with Peter!

... Maybe.

Jon isn't harmed by Peter during season four, sure, but he does climb into the coffin and visits Ny-Ålesund and is tracked down by Julia and Trevor and struggles emotionally and morally with his own humanity and is hurt, in a way, by the distance Martin puts between them. And I hesitate to place blame for the apocalypse on anybody but Jonah, but if we're going to argue in-canon that Jon was responsible for the apocalypse (he wasn't, but that's not the point of this post), then Martin contributed to that blame and responsibility because it was his actions and decisions that ultimately drew Jon into the Lonely and resulted in him getting the 14th and final mark. (Again, I don't think Jon or Martin are at fault for the apocalypse, but if we were to blame Jon, we could blame Martin as well.) It was only after getting that mark that Jonah was able to use Jon to end the world, something that was hugely hurtful for Jon. So did Martin really protect Jon at all by staying away from him and continuing to work with Peter? Or was that just a convenient excuse to keep self-destructing?

Jon and Martin, in my opinion, had very similar arcs in season four. Martin was sinking further into the Lonely and Jon was sinking further into the Eye. We hear a lot more about Jon's emotional struggle with this given that he's the POV character, sure, but Jon also talks about this with other people. He talks about it to Helen (MAG 152):

JON

…

When does it stop?

HELEN

(impatient) What?

JON

The guilt. The misery. All the others I’ve met, they’ve been – cold, cruel. They’ve enjoyed what they do. When does the Eye (inhale) make me monstrous?

And to Daisy (MAG 136):

JON

My – (large sigh) My memories of the coma are not clear, but I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die. But ever since then, I – I don’t know if I made the right decision; I’m stronger now, tougher, I can – (he cuts himself off) If I do die, now, or get sealed away somewhere forever? I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. And I don’t want to lose anyone else, so if I can maybe – stop that happening, and the only danger is to me, I – I’ll do it in a heartbeat; worst case scenario, the universe loses another monster.

But all we really get from Martin are the things he tells the tapes when he's alone and the monologue he gives in MAG 158. It makes sense that he wouldn't be as open, yes, given the nature of the Lonely, but I can't help but think of (MAG 154):

JON

The Lonely’s really got you, hasn’t it?

MARTIN

(no hesitation) You know, I think it always did.

Jon was always curious and hungry for knowledge; the Eye amplified it. Martin was always closed-off and isolated; the Lonely amplified that as well.

But then Jon pulls Martin out of the Lonely, they flee to the safehouse, and three weeks later, the apocalypse begins. Martin isn't as consumed by the Lonely as he was in season four, he's with Jon--the person he loves--for extended periods of time, and they're in an extremely stressful situation that's sure to be incredibly emotionally charged. There's a lot to be said about Jon's emotional vulnerability during season five and how Martin both pressures him for it and rejects it in different ways, but for the purposes of this post, I won't go too far into detail about the motivations behind how Jon is feeling and acting.

I will say, however, that in season five, Martin still continues to place a lot of focus on asking Jon how he's feeling, encouraging (or pressuring) him to share, and getting frustrated when Jon can't or doesn't (MAG 167):

MARTIN

Okay, so how exactly would you describe your current emotional state regarding all of this?

JON

I –

MARTIN

(overlapping) Go on, I’m all ears.

JON

I feel…

MARTIN

(go on) Mhm.

JON

(sigh) I feel… sad.

[Brief pause.] MARTIN

(flat) Sad.

JON

Very sad.

MARTIN

(*very* flat) Very sad.

[He sighs slightly as he says it. Their bags jangle.]

A few moments prior to this, Martin expresses displeasure that Jon is Knowing things about him, specifically pointing out his emotions (MAG 167):

MARTIN

It’s just – it’s weird knowing that you can know literally everything I think and feel. E-Especially since you’re not exactly the most open of people – emotionally, I mean.

I think Martin is making an effort to open up more to Jon. But I still think it's difficult for him to talk about how he feels so openly, and while he is completely in the right for not wanting Jon to Know things about him without his permission, I think it's interesting that the focus is on his feelings and that he brings up how Jon isn't emotionally open immediately after. It scares Martin to think that Jon could know, at any given moment, how he's feeling, and I think it's partially because he's not used to that level of vulnerability. He turns the focus on Jon, away from himself, and doesn't really make an effort to talk about how he's feeling about all of this, instead prioritizing Jon's feelings and mental state like he's grown comfortable with.

And when Martin bottles up his emotions--of which there are a lot, in such a stressful environment, they can explode out in hurtful ways:

MARTIN

(overlapping) I know! I know, okay, I just – (bracing exhale) Look, I j,just – don’t want to get burned, all right? It’s, it’s like my least favorite pain ever.

JON

Is that – a joke?

MARTIN

(a bit faster, a bit shaky) No, no, okay? I, I legitimately hate burns, alright? They’re, they’re awful, and they scar horribly, and they just – it – it just makes me sick; I, I hate it. Hate it!

I don't think Martin really thought about what he was saying when he told Jon, who has a large burn scar on his hand, that burn scars make him sick, and I don't think he meant it maliciously. But he'd spent the greater portion of the conversation talking around the fact that he didn't like burns and that was why he didn't want to go into the building, and so when it finally ended up coming out, it did so in an explosion of emotion rather than a conscious decision to share. Martin doesn't have a good handle on his emotions, and he doesn't have a good handle on sharing them.

(Is it too much for me to say that Martin was more emotionally vulnerable with himself in MAG 170 than he was with Jon when Jon finally found him?)

Throughout season five, Martin asks Jon questions, he expresses frustrations with Jon, he shows discomfort or fear at times, but for as much as Martin feels frustrated that Jon isn't talking about how he feels about their situation, Martin really isn't doing so either. The most he talks about his feelings is in MAG 170 and MAG 186, when he's by himself, and I remember MAG 186 in particular because before that, we really didn't know what Martin was thinking about for the majority of the season! And in this episode, we find out a lot of very important things about Martin's character. Like (MAG 186):

ALSO MARTIN

Look, I know what you know. Maybe I’m just a bit more… open about it.

Also-Martin acknowledges that Martin often doesn't say what he means and hides what he really feels, telling him that it's 'hard to be vulnerable,' and Martin is initially very resistant to the idea. And then, when Also-Martin suggests that Martin wants to stay so that he can be 'quietly sad,' we get (MAG 186):

MARTIN

We could talk to Jon about it.

ALSO MARTIN

We could. But we both know that loved ones make the worst therapists. They’re too wrapped up in trying to stop you hurting to actually help. But hey, we know all about that, am I right?

MARTIN

There’s nothing wrong with comforting people.

ALSO MARTIN

A cup of tea isn’t a resolution. At best it’s a… a plaster. At worst… a muzzle.

This is very interesting to me, because for all that Martin tries to help other people, he also believes that comfort doesn't always help and that you can't be your loved one's 'therapist.' I think this gives a lot of insight into why Martin doesn't share his emotions with the people he cares about, especially Jon; he doesn't want to put Jon in the position where he'll become his 'therapist,' and he doesn't necessarily think Jon can help. So instead, Martin just chooses not to be vulnerable at all, because he doesn't want to burden the people he cares about. But, when it's just him (MAG 186):

ALSO MARTIN

Don’t lie. You don’t need to. Not here. It’s just us.

He doesn't feel like he needs to pull his emotional punches. He can't accidentally hurt somebody or put them in an awkward position; it's just himself. But what's said to himself remains with himself, and (at least on tape), he doesn't discuss any of this with Jon. Not even the bit about, if it came down to it, Martin would have rather had Jon smite him than continue to rule over a domain. He goes right back to being closed-off around Jon, but now we, the audience, know what lies underneath, and how little of it reaches the surface.

In fact, the thing Martin's probably most vocal about is how Jon's feelings about himself bother him (MAG 199):

MARTIN

I guess that’s why it really bothers me, you know? I try, but I can’t actually imagine ever making a decision that I knew meant losing you.

And it… It hurts to know you can.

And I think he has a tendency to use anger and frustration to cover up hurt, shying away from the admission that something Jon's done has hurt him (an incredibly vulnerable thing) and instead relying on the less-vulnerable and more external anger to cover it. This is more speculation than true analysis, but I think that's a lot of what's happening in MAG 200, when he discovers that Jon has already assumed the position of the pupil and has, in Martin's eyes, broken his promise.

#tma #the magnus archives #martin blackwood #tma meta #jonathan sims #(because i do talk about jon a bit in this too)#i actually think martin isn't good with emotions at all #both his own and others'#i think he doesn't quite know what to do with them so he puts on a mask and defaults to things he knows will work #*thinks about the low empathy autistic martin high empathy autistic jon post with love in my heart*

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vethbrenatto · 2 years

Note

People immediately jumped to the “oh this is fcgs evil murder bot side!” but theres so much to unpack in those 2 minutes that proves that this is probably not the case at all starting with the stress points. The more stressed fcg is the closer they get to that breaking point. Them being practically abandoned by dancer pushed them past it. (This is abit of a long ask sorry)

There’s a few things we know about this state: fcg didn’t wake up and started attacking for no reason chet did hit him and in the state that he was in they saw him as a threat. Also something that alot of people seemed to overlook is the fact that fcg only retaliated against those who hurt him first, he could’ve yelled at the entire party but they didn’t. Ashton did grab fcg but didn’t cause them any harm and fcg didn’t retaliate at Ashton at all.

This is more on the theory side of things but the whole saying there insecurity things at them was probably a way to get the party to run away from him, saying things that they don’t like to hear would drive them away from them so that they wouldn’t get hurt anymore.

the funny yet sad thing is the party probably could’ve talked him down, they weren’t saying or doing anything to those who didn’t hurt him so if they just let fcg be grappled and stay there maybe they would’ve been able to talk to them. Also the violence made it much worse, since fcg seemed way more stressed out the more they got hurt.granted there was a lot more going on so not gonna blame anyone but hopefully one of them /probably Ashton/ will want a much different approach the next time this happens or just say it in preparation

hi same person who wrote the massive fcg anon sorry if that was abit long i just have alot of thoughts about this character and wanted to hear your own thoughts! /also im not the biggest fan of the "oh fcg turned evil" thing /

i'm assuming these asks go together! and no worries, i don't mind hearing people's takes as long as it's not like "you should have this opinion about this"

personally, i kind of disagree with this. i think FCG in the state they were in couldn't have been talked down- mechanically, it seems like they had been triggered in some sense and the only thing that would've stopped them was probably a successful save, being knocked out (like they were), or possibly a calm emotions (this was also tried, but only after FCG was knocked out).

i think you're right it's obviously deeper than "murderbot" because FCG's personality that we've gotten to know doesn't seem to be malicious, but the stress points and the backstory of FCG being triggered by other's negative emotions and absorbing their pain (a metaphor for unhealthy coping mechanisms) to me doesn't make it... not murderbot? it's just a reflavoring and recontextualizing.

also i think i agree that I don't think FCG means the things he said, he said them to be the most hurtful he could. it seems like from the narrative we're being give, those negative emotions he's swallowing from others fester in him, so that's obviously what comes out when he "turns"

to me at this point i think the most interesting thing that could happen (other than this all being a fakeout- that FCG wasn't the one-eyed monster, which i think is 10x better a twist than him being one, but i also don't think that's going to happen) is going to be learning FCG's Aeorian roots. what about their time with Dancer led to this "malfunction"? did she just program him to be a helper bot and being of his advanced intelligence he, just like a real person, couldn't live for just other people's emotional wellbeing. he has to learn to live for himself and consider his own feelings and now that i'm typing that out, it does feel like that is probably the most predictable outcome of all this and it kind of bores me dfgfjdklgkl so um. i hope something else happens? idk

#ask #anonymous #cr spoilers

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sundaysundaes · 4 years

Text

Falling

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Angst | NC-17 | 11K

Summary: In the absence of your warmth, Lee Donghyuck begins to reminisce the loving memories he’s shared with you in the past three years, regretting how your first fight turned into something that ended it all. Lyrics are taken from this beautiful song: Harry Style’s Falling.

Warnings: Unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!), oral sex, alcohol consumption, swearing

I'm in my bed

And you're not here

The small, barely prominent crack on the ceiling of his bedroom has always gone unnoticeable. It stands only as a silent witness of the meeting between a pair of plumps lips to redder ones, the breathless sounds of frantic moans, and the sacred exchange of loving words. But not tonight. Tonight, as he lays on his bed, sheets all crumpled but with the absence of your warmth, Donghyuck notices everything.

He notices how quiet his room—his entire apartment—feels when it’s only the sound of his own, soft breathing echoes through the air. The walls, the carpet, the bedsheets, the framed photographs that remind him of the joy that used to bloom on his face—everything feels monochromatic. Empty. Shallow. Because ever since you walked out of his life, you’ve taken all the colors with you, leaving him solely in black and white.

And there's no one to blame

But the drink in my wandering hands

With the bitter taste of vodka sitting on his tongue, Donghyuck closes his eyes, allowing himself to remember but not forgive the words he once said to you.

Regrets start to suffocate him at once.

Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left

What hurts from a break-up is not the parting of two hearts, but the memories that had been drawn deep within them. It’s not the kiss that he misses, it’s the taste of your lips—the faint scent of strawberry that sits pale in comparison to your natural flavor. It’s the way they move against his own, timid at first then consuming all at once. And how there will be no other girl that will taste the same, feel the same, or emit the same kind of feelings from him.

It’s funny, Donghyuck thinks, how he can only see your smile behind his closed eyelids these days. But he doesn’t find himself laughing. He can’t even remember the last time he found a reason to smile, now that you’re gone.

The moon was hiding behind thick clouds, he remembers, that night when fate walked in and introduced you to one another.

Donghyuck’s eyes were glued to the silver screen, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he witnessed the battle between the villain and the protagonist grew deadly. The thrill of it soon perished, however, when a scent of chamomile shampoo fleeted through his nose.

Your head was falling onto his shoulder as you waned into your dreamland. Unbeknownst to you, you had been leaning your weight entirely to a stranger whose bergamot perfume compelled you to focus on anything besides the movie. It was as pleasant as it was distracting. But after being sleep deprived for three days, exhaustion finally took over and you fell asleep so deeply, you didn’t even have the strength to dream.

Your weight on his body was unfamiliar but it wasn’t uncomfortable for twenty-two years-old Lee Donghyuck. As he took a glance at your face, it wasn’t your beauty that kept him frozen—except for the gentle smile that broke on his lips. It was how peaceful you looked, almost like an enervated child curling up after spending her time chasing butterflies on the field.

Donghyuck shifted carefully on his seat, attempting his best to give you comfort by providing more space for you to lean your weight on. Then he stayed still, his smile never faltered away, the movie long forgotten. He didn’t spare a glance at the screen even when people were gasping at the sight of the protagonist dying in his lover’s arms. He was more intrigued by the thought of your name, wondering whether it would sound as nice as the smell of your shampoo.

When the credits rolled, Donghyuck told Mark and Jeno in hushed whispers to leave without him, throwing icy glares at them when they grinned devilishly at the sight of you sleeping on his shoulder. He went as further as kicking Jeno on the shin when his voice rose too loudly, afraid that he’d wake you up, which made the other man complain because certainly, the background music was louder than anything else in the room.

Nevertheless, you were still deep in your slumber.

Donghyuck begged for more time when one of the concessions workers asked him to leave. Refused and left with no other solution, he sighed and turned his head toward you.

“Hey,” he whispered, heart palpitating in anticipation of finally hearing your voice. “We have to go.”

His voice was foreign to your ears but it was so soothing, almost like a lullaby, that you snuggled closer, wanting to hear more of it. It took Donghyuck three times more with his cheeks reddening to call upon you until you finally found the power to detach yourself from your stupor.

“Hey there,” a boy—beautiful boy—with glowing, sun-kissed skin; round, enticing eyes; and a voice as sweet as honey, beamed at you with a smile so warm, it nearly melted your heart, and you decided ah, I don’t ever want to wake up from this dream.

It was when the usher popped into your vision, stating, “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but we’re closing,” that you internally screamed oh God, no, this isn’t a dream, what have I done?

“So that’s what he said.” Donghyuck’s smile was sheepish with a tint of teasing, and your heart moved on its own, yearning for him to display you another one. “But if you still have time to spare, we can go get some coffees or something. I can fill you in on the details.”

“A—” Your voice was hoarse from sleep, embarrassingly so. “About what?”

“About the movie you just missed.” The grin he showcased grew wider and this time, it was so utterly mischievous that you had to break your gaze before heat rushed to your face. “The fact that you’re here watching a movie by yourself must mean you’re interested to see how it ends. I can help you with that.”

“Umm—” You rummaged your purse, pretending like you were searching for something when it was only a poor excuse for you to not be captivated by his eyes longer than you already were. “It’s fine, I can look it up online.”

“But then what should I do with this?” He brought his right hand in the air, pursing his lips. “My arm’s falling asleep. Shouldn’t you take responsibility for it?”

The horrified look on your face made him laugh, and his laughter became the reason why you decided to throw all common sense away and just went with what felt right.

Awkward conversations made you anxious but they died before you could finish your coffee. They were reborn into something that was supposed to only be shared between friends instead of strangers, but with Donghyuck, everything felt so natural, you didn’t even find the will to question it. His affable, carefree attitude was almost inspiring, breaking through your facade as easy as counting his fingers.

“So, how come you went to the movies by yourself?” Donghyuck asked, his coffee long forgotten on the table as he was more drawn to you and the little smile you retained on your lips. “Boyfriend too busy to come along?”

A bit flustered, you brought your head down, hiding your eyes behind your fringe. “I don’t... have a boyfriend.”

Donghyuck raised an eyebrow, lying his chin on his palm as he rested his elbow on the table. The way he stared at you made your stomach flip, and he reciprocated with nothing but a hum, tapping a finger to his cheek. His tiny smile held a thousand meaning.

You hurriedly took a sip of your coffee. “I, uhh, I had some free time today and it’s my favorite movie franchise—I just got to see how it ended. But all my friends have seen it, so…”

“They didn’t invite you?”

“They did. I was just busy with work.”

His voice dropped an octave lower. “And they didn’t wait for you.”

“It’s—” Your chest tightened. “It’s fine, really. I mean, it would only make me feel bad if they waited for me. My schedule is crazy. I haven’t been sleeping properly for three days because of my deadlines.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” He chuckled and you noticed how his teeth were a little jagged. “I could still smell your drool on my shirt, actually.”

“Oh my God,” you spluttered. “I’m—Please let me wash it for you.”

“And you expect me to walk home half-naked?” His naughty eyebrow raise made your skin tingle. “Or are you inviting me to stay over?” Seeing you part your mouth but lost for words, Donghyuck tittered. “I’m kidding. I would’ve waited for you. No matter how busy you were, I would. And even if I’ve watched it first, I wouldn’t mind watching it again with you.”

You shook your head, both in attempts to disagree with his words and to erase your blush away. “But that would be a waste of money—”

“That wouldn’t be a waste, and you know why?” He leaned closer, body almost halfway through the table. “Because for me, it’s never about the movie. It’s about watching it together with you. About us complaining about the plot holes, talking about the bad acting, laughing at each other when something reminds us of one of our inside jokes. That’s what makes it worth.” As Donghyuck realized how your eyes were locked with his, your breath hitching in your throat with the proximity, he quickly plummeted back to his seat, flushed. “I mean, it applies to everyone—not you, specifically.”

So he could be shy, you wondered. And what else could he be? Maybe buried underneath those mischievous grins, laid a caring heart. Maybe he could be the one who’d understand when you missed three of his calls as you tried to survive your deadlines. Maybe he would cook you breakfast instead of just reminding you to take one. Maybe he could taste sweeter than any boy you’d ever kissed.

So when his curiosity for you matched the intensity you had towards him, you let your walls crumble, welcoming him with open arms.

“It’s going to rain,” Donghyuck mentioned, eyes observing the night sky, dark clouds rumbling as they hovered above you. You were walking next to him, knuckles nearly grazing one another from how near you were though none of you was brave enough to close the distance.

Although obvious, you decided to humor him. “Yeah? How can you tell?”

“‘Cause I’m psychic.” The added wink in the end was a bonus but to you, it became the main reason why you had to drag your gaze to your feet.

Funny how for the past three hours, your smile never faltered away—almost to the point that your cheekbones began to hurt—when you could barely remember the last time you found amusement in anything.

“Are you cold?” he asked, and you promptly shook your head no. Unfortunately for you, your body betrayed you. Donghyuck chuckled softly when he noticed the shivers that ran through your spine. “Want me to lend you my jacket?”

“Oh—no, it’s fine, I’m—”

“It was a rhetorical question, dummy.” The body heat that was imprinted on his leather jacket made you well-aware of just how warm he actually was. The scent of his bergamot perfume was overwhelmingly delightful, but there was another scent underneath it—something that reminded you of summer, sunlight, and sandalwood—that made you wonder, maybe, if he wasn’t wearing this perfume, he’d smell just like this.

He pushed your hair away from your neck, straightening the jacket until it enveloped you entirely with its warmth. “Better?”

You eventually managed to snap yourself out of your reverie. “Were you always this smooth with women?”

“No, I just practiced in front of my mirror a lot.”

“Practiced what?”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “The art of seduction.”

“Is that so?” Your cheeks began to warm but it was probably because of the jacket. “Guess I should try that sometimes,” you joked.

“I don’t think you need it,” he cooed, bending himself down a little so you were eye-to-eye. “You already have me wrapped around your fingers from the second I laid my eyes on you.” When you became petrified by his words, his laughter reverberated through the air. “Now, that’s an example. How did I do?”

Ignoring your racing heart, you retorted, “Terrible.”

“Then will you let me practice on you so I can get better?”

Just like that, you found yourself sporting another smile. “Now, that’s smooth.”

Your life had been dull, repeating the same routines over and over again with your job taking most of your precious hours. Being with Donghyuck was a breath of fresh air—a stranger who was attentive to every little gesture you made, every little word that escaped your mouth, as much as he easily stole your attention away. His confidence was inspiring, his laughter was contagious, and you adored every little bit of his quirkiness.

“This feels like a date,” he professes, smiling diffidently to himself. “Would it be okay for me to think of it as a date?”

Suddenly, your vocabulary had diminished into nothing but his name. You nodded, and surprisingly enough for you, Donghyuck snickered, hand reaching out to playfully—almost childishly—ruffle your strands. “Thanks. Then a date it is.”

You wished time could go slower so you could savor the moment, memorizing the heart shape of his lips when he grinned.

You stopped in front of your apartment building, a breeze of cold night wind caressing your cheeks. “Umm, this is me,” you said, dismantling his leather jacket of your body. “Thank you... for this.”

Donghyuck’s fingertips grazed against your knuckles and it took longer than necessary for him to retrieve it from your hand. “You’re welcome.”

“And...” Your mind strayed away from forming the right words as you took notice of him wearing his leather jacket, how it fitted him so perfectly, how handsome he looked. “Umm, thank you for walking me back.”

“Thank you for giving me the chance.” His smile reminded you of spring, your favorite season, the way it blossomed on his face, so warm and beautiful. “I could’ve been a serial killer, you know. Showing me where you live isn’t too smart.”

“You don’t look like a serial killer to me.”

“Yeah?” His smile turned impish. “Then, how do I look like to you?”

You were fast to pivot on your heels. “I think I should go.”

His laughter filled the air. “Wait, I haven’t even said good night yet.”

“Then good ni—“ Your words died on your tongue when a pair of plump lips found their way to your cheek, just brushing lightly against the skin but your entire breath escaped your lungs at once. He retraced his steps before you could respond properly, biting the corner of his lip, looking somewhat unsure.

“Sorry if that’s—“ Donghyuck cleared his throat. “Umm, good night.”

You felt lightheaded, and you shortly blamed it on the amount of espresso you’d gulped too much during the day. “Good… night…”

Donghyuck was too bashful to meet your eyes, which was why you were brave enough to sneak a glimpse at his face. You decided that his sly, confident grins looked alluring on his face, but they were nothing compared to how adorable he seemed when he evinced that nervous, shy look on his face.

It took a few seconds before Donghyuck gave you a weak nod and walked away, taking the same direction from where you came. Something queasy grew inside your stomach, your grip around your purse tightening.

Is it all there is? Am I never going to see him again?

With a heavy sigh, you walked toward your building.

Maybe he doesn't like me that much... But what do I do now? I want to see him again.

I don’t want to let him go without knowing whether I could see him again.

God, for once, just do something for yourself. Do something that makes you happy, be brave!

Taking a deep breath, you chose to gamble.

At the same time you turned on your heels, shouting his name, Donghyuck was calling upon yours and you both met each other halfway, breathless when it didn’t even take you more than twenty steps to reach one another.

“H-hi,” you greeted, voice quivering but not as much as the fingers you curled around the hem of your blouse.

“Hey.” Donghyuck’s gaze softened. “I was wondering—”

“Can we meet again?” You didn’t intend to cut him off so abruptly, but the anxiety within you nearly made your heart burst that you ended up asking the question without waiting for him to finish his. “I—I mean—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“Yes, a thousand times yes,” he answered in one breath, with his sentence ending in chuckles. “You’re adorable, do you know that?”

Your heart was still about to burst but for an entirely different reason. “That’s…” You tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear—a habit that seemed to appear whenever you were too embarrassed to function. “That’s great. I mean, the fact that you want to see me again, not—” Oh God, okay, stop. “Well, then, umm, I guess I should leave now.”

He concealed his grin. “Aren’t you going to ask for my number or something?”

You mentally slapped yourself. “Y-yes, that would make it easier.”

The way Donghyuck was gazing at you made you feel like you were about to fall from the edge of your seat. He must think I’m an idiot. But had you been brave enough to see the gleam in his eyes, you would’ve noticed how he was staring at you so adoringly. “Give me your phone then.” When you just stood still, too busy trying to comprehend that a cute boy was really going to give you his number, Donghyuck added, “To add my numbers, Sweetheart. What, do I look like someone who flirts with pretty girls just to steal their phones away?”

“I wasn’t—” You quickly handed him your phone. “Here.”

Donghyuck’s smile grew playful again. “Care to make it interesting?”

“What?”

“I’ll add my numbers except for the last digit. You gotta guess it.”

“What? Why—”

“Because you’re cute,” he repeated, cocking his head as he returned your phone. “And it makes me want to tease you even more.” You unconsciously began to pout and he nearly whimpered at the sight. “Don’t do that, that’s not fair.”

You mumbled quietly, “I don’t like being made fun of.”

“I’m not making fun of you, I’m teasing you. There’s a difference.” He sighed, fingertips aching to reach out and swat your bangs away from your eyes. “A huge difference.”

You jutted out your bottom lip. “Feels the same to me.”

Donghyuck leaned in, calloused palm finding its way to cup your cheek, lifting your face so the streetlight could illuminate your features. “You need to wash that pout away from your face,” he whispered, eyes slowly going down to your lips that you had to remind yourself to breathe. “Or else I won’t be able to hold myself back.”

It was supposed to be another teasing, you knew he only meant it that way. But all trace of playfulness quickly vanished from his face when he noticed your eyes drifting to his lips—just for a split second—but that was enough. He saw the sign, he felt the chemistry, and there was no way he was going to let it pass just like that. Not when he had been thinking the same thing repeatedly for the last three hours you’d been together.

It wasn’t your first kiss—nor your second or third—but it was the kiss that mattered and you weren’t sure why. Three hours ago, he was a stranger. Now, he sent a trickle of electricity through your bloodstream, as if he was your first love. As if you had been wanting him for years.

A gentle rain began to pour over your heads, tiny droplets staining your cheeks but all you could think about was the way his thumb was caressing your cheekbone, how his lips were warmer and softer than anything you could have imagined, yet fierce and powerful at the same time.

“Am I going too fast?” He asked in a broken whisper, parting away just enough to murmur the question but close enough that you could still feel his words grazing your lips.

“Yes.” But you curled your fingers on the front of his shirt, tugging him closer. Donghyuck sighed into your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he let himself drown deeper in passion. What started as a chaste kiss became ardent, and you allowed him to taste you enough so that he would fall asleep thinking about your lips. Donghyuck took a hold of your wrist, detaching your grip from his fabric and moved it up, silently telling you to wind your arms around his neck instead. The second you did it, he melded his lips with yours in a passion that matched the blazing sun, entangling his long arms around your waist, nearly lifting you off your feet as he embraced you tighter.

You wanted to preserve this moment. Right here, kissing fervidly under the soft rain in the arms of a stranger, drowned in the feelings of excitement. Because if you were oxygen, then Donghyuck was dying to breathe.

When it ended, you wished it didn’t have to. Donghyuck’s eyes were deep and intense as they peered into yours, growing a bit half-lidded when he shifted them back to your lips. “Hey.”

You mirrored his gentle smile, forehead pressing against his. “Hi…”

“I don’t know about you,” he chuckled lowly, “but as far as first kisses go, I think that was the best first kiss in the history of mankind.”

You tried to suppress your laughter but failed instantly. “Hyuck?”

“Yeah?”

“Judging from that line, I think you need to practice harder on your art of seduction.”

“Let’s just go back to kissing for now. I like kissing.” He pulled you in again, exchanging muffled giggles between playful kisses.

And if happiness had a form, it would’ve had his smile.

What am I now? What am I now?

What if I’m someone I don’t want around?

I’m falling again. I’m falling again.

I’m falling.

It’s almost laughable that the memories that once sparked so much joy in his heart have taken a shape of javelin, striking him deep in his chest, right where he ached for you the most. It tasted like summer when he kissed you in the rain, and the pain that swells in Donghyuck’s heart whenever the memory of it suffices is harder than the storm. And now, it’s the silence of the room—the absence of your presence—that pierces his skin.

It was easy for him to fall in love with you. So easy, it frightened him at first. After his first relationship, the way his first love shed his heart to pieces, he thought he wouldn’t be able to love someone ever again. Wouldn’t have the courage to even try. But when you came into the picture, Donghyuck didn’t even have the strength to resist. You were everything he ever wanted, an epitome of the woman that graced his dreams. And he was a prisoner, trapped under your spell.

So, why does everything have to end?

Now that he’s falling without you catching him, what is he going to do?

He hates who he’s become. He loathes the fact that he can no longer easily smile like he used to. He despises how grimly he envisioned the world these days. As if you were his entire future, and now that you’re gone, his whole world collapses. Donghyuck no longer knows himself, as you were the one who defines him. The one who gave meaning to his life. The one who mended his broken heart.

What if I’m down? What if I’m out?

What if I’m someone you won’t talk about?

I’m falling again. I’m falling again.

I’m falling.

You must hate me now, Donghyuck ponders, bringing his arm over his face, nibbling at the corner of his lip. The things I said… How I let you go without even giving us a chance… I must have hurt you…

It all began that night, on the day of your twenty-sixth birthday. Two years had passed since you shared your first kiss. Little fights over your differences couldn’t be avoided, but they helped nurture the bond you had with him, making it stronger. And each forgiveness was sincere and was rich in kisses. Donghyuck always made sure of that.

As you were fond of movies, your perfect date must involve watching a movie together with him so Donghyuck, dressed unusually handsomely in a white button-up shirt and black khakis that caught you off guard, took you out to the movie theater—the place where fate once meddled in and brought you to one another.

Knowing your taste, he paid two tickets to see the latest romantic movie, two buckets of popcorn, and a coke for him but iced green tea for you, realizing full well how soda had become one of your biggest enemies ever since your diet started. He made sure that your seats were located on the corner top of the theater, private enough for him to snuggle close to you or steal kisses whenever he felt like doing. You didn’t mind because Donghyuck would only kiss you when you seemed bored, never wanting to bother you when you were too immersed in the movie. He simply kept his hand laced with yours the whole time to make up for the loss.

Complaining about the plot holes and making jokes that only you two could understand had become Donghyuck’s habit to keep you entertained during the movie and it was something you always looked forward to. But that night, he was quiet, his eyebrows creasing in irritation but because of what, you were clueless.

“Are you okay?” You asked as you exited the building, this time being the one who reached out for his hand first. Donghyuck stiffened but his shoulders soon relaxing as he intertwined your fingers together.

“I’m fine,” he assured. “Why, do I not look fine?”

You weakly smiled back, uncertain. “You just seem awfully quiet, that’s all.”

He rubbed his nape, somehow looking a bit perturbed. “I just… It made me remember something I’ve been trying my best to forget.”

“You mean the movie?”

“Yeah.” He sighed into the night, puffs of hot air erupting from his slightly chapped lips. “I don’t know about you, but I think the way the movie depicted their long-distance relationship is just bullshit.”

There was so much bitterness in his words that it nearly made you stop walking. Suddenly, there was a thick tension around you, one that made you aware that it would be wiser to drop the conversation. But curiosity was eating you from the inside. He looked so crushed, so angry, and Donghyuck was turning into a whole other person before you.

You asked him what happened.

“I don’t think I want to talk about my past relationship when I’m celebrating a special night with my girlfriend.” He forced himself to laugh about it, but it sounded hollow.

You unconsciously tightened your grip around his hand. “I just wanted to understand you better.”

“Hey.” He pulled you toward him so abruptly, you ended up falling on his chest. His smile was warmer when he looked at you. “Without even knowing my past, you already understand me better than anyone.”

You were still unsettled when Donghyuck kissed your lips to divert your attention, softly biting your lower one just to joke around to ease the tension. “Ah, I can’t wait until we’re home,” he whispered when all laughter had receded and he had his fingers tucking your loose strands behind your ear. “I want to make love to you.”

Your heart beat thunderously inside your chest. “You’re—you’re just gonna say it so blatantly like that?” He used to be so shy about it, asking you to join him in bed by pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck instead of using words.

“Just wanted you to know my plans beforehand.” He simpered. “Or do you not want to?”

Face aflame, you hurriedly took a couple of strides forward, leading the way with your hand clamping his wrist. “Where are we going?” Donghyuck frowned but followed you nonetheless. “The restaurant is right there.”

“We can have dinner after.” You threw a look over your shoulder, too nervous to smile, but hoped your words would deliver. “Aren’t we going to make love?”

His astonished look soon turned delicate. Donghyuck’s smiles were always beautiful, but the ones that were caused by you were the brightest.

As soon as the door clicked open, Donghyuck half-pushed, half-carried you inside his apartment that smelled pleasantly like him. He didn’t wait until it was properly closed before he latched his parted lips on your softer ones, fusing perfectly in the way no one ever could. A stinging pain erupted from the back of your head when Donghyuck drove you to the wall, not knowing his own strength, but when you groaned against his mouth, it was solely because you needed him as much as he needed you.

“I love you,” he breathlessly said against your neck, tearing your coat away from your body, fingers slipping underneath your dress. “I love you so much, it’s insane.”

It had been three months since you first exchanged the sacred three words, but no matter how much Donghyuck had whispered them to your ears, painted them to your skin with his lips, it still felt like the first time you heard him say the words. It wasn’t just because of how many promises he held underneath them, it was the way he said them—so sincerely, so desperately, as if you were running out of time and he needed you to hear them before you disappeared from his life.

“I—” You flinched, pulling him for another kiss again when Donghyuck hooked his fingers on the side of your lingerie, hastily pushing it down your thighs. “I love you too—Hyuck—”

The bed was not more than twenty steps away but it was long forgotten when Donghyuck, still with his teeth ghosting across your lower lip, hastily unzipped himself and pushed his jeans and boxers lower enough for your hand to find and stroke him to life. “God, baby—” he hissed when you curled your fingers around him, hot breath caressing your jawline. “I want—I need to be inside you—just—”

No one had ever wanted you the way he did. Every kiss was nearly bruising, every hug was almost suffocating, the thrill of it all was overwhelming.

It was almost a whine that escaped his lips when he vocalized your name. As soon as his desperate gasp and pleading moan reached your ears, the butterflies came alive in your stomach. Your skin tingled, even with the lightest brush of his lips. Your fingers found home in his hair when he kissed the valley between your breasts, tugging at his soft strands and earning a low grunt in response.

You gave him a sign, affirming that it was okay to continue and Donghyuck wasted no time. Pushing the fabric of your dress as much as he could until it pooled around your waist, he lifted one of your legs and wrapped it around his hips, one hand sliding down to prop up your thigh, the other one aligning his tip against your entrance.

The friction made you moan, both in pain and passion, as Donghyuck slid himself in one swift motion. The second he was sheathed deep inside, waiting for you to adjust to his size, he drew out a long sigh, eyes shut close as he relished the sensation. But when your gaze met, his half-lidded eyes were gentler than they had been the entire day. Careful fingers framed your face, his thumb rubbing comforting circles along your cheekbone. “Are you okay?”

You weakly nodded, smiling sheepishly. “Are you?”

His chuckles were light and bashful. “I’m feeling great,” he said. He moved his hips without warning, just a little, not too fast, not too deep, but the sensation was enough to make you whimper and Donghyuck swallowed every little noise you made directly with his lips.

A certain thrust made you squeeze around him and he drowned out his moan by mouthing against your shoulder, teeth prickling against the skin. “Fuck, do that again, baby, please.” And as he continued hitting the same spot, it was a given that you provided the same reaction.

Donghyuck was insanely good at making you feel good, and in return, you wanted to give him everything that he desired. “I love how you feel around me,” he confessed under his breath, as if he was talking to himself. “Perfect—you’re so perfect for me—”

Your arms were frantically clutching around his neck, trying to maintain stability when Donghyuck pushed you up the wall, now lifting both of your feet off the ground. He buried himself deeper, moved his hips faster, and kissed you with the desperation of a dying man.

You tried to hold back but you couldn’t. It was too much. His breathless moans in your ear, the frantic sway of his hips, the closeness of your bodies—everything was overwhelming and you came hard on his length, legs wrapping tightly around his waist as Donghyuck chased after your lips.

“Fuck,” he breathed heavily, his jaw hung low. The way you quivered and clenched around him sent fire through his veins. “Did you just come?” he whispered and you bit your lip in shame. The tiny laugh that broke free from his lips were both playful and filled with tenderness. “Already? That was fast.”

Flustered but not given the chance to react, you inhaled sharply when Donghyuck picked up the pace. He was almost growling when his lips grazed against the shell of your ear. “Actually, me too,” he moaned, “Is it—can I come inside?”

You nodded fervently, embracing him tighter and Donghyuck buried his head in the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he came.

When he let you slide down to your feet, your knees gave out under your weight and you stumbled back to his chest. He held you close, laughing as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m sorry, come here.” Bending down slightly, Donghyuck hooked one arm under your knees and another one behind your back. He carried you in his arms, teasing, “The sex was so good, you could barely stand, huh?”

You playfully slapped his chest. “Shut up.”

But all of his mischievousness dissipated as soon as you both slipped under the duvet, his bedsheets felt silky smooth under your spine. He cleaned the stain that dripped down your thighs with a warm towel, but dipped his head down to taste you directly with his tongue the second he was finished with it. Donghyuck’s eyes never left yours, placing gentle kisses on the inner sides of your thighs and two more on your clit before he slid his tongue along your folds, slowly, as if he had the whole time in the world to please you.

He was always gentler the second time, slower with more feelings instead of sheer passion. So when he slid himself into you again, his forehead was pressed against yours, lips curving up into an innocent smile. “I never want to let you go,” he chuckled between tiny moans. “I want to stay just like this with you, forever.”

“I don’t think it’s physically possible,” you giggled, raking your nails down his spine and he arched his back in response.

“Wouldn’t it be great if we could stay connected like this all the time, though?” Donghyuck broke away, sitting on his heels as he rested one of your legs on his shoulder. His fingers were kneading the skin of your thigh, hugging your leg close to his chest as he rocked his hips slowly, savoring every moment. “I mean, ah, doesn’t this feel good?”

You nibbled at your lip, sighing. Good was an understatement but you weren’t sure you could find a term to perfectly define how amazing he felt around you. From where you laid on the bed, you could take a good look at Donghyuck’s eyes—the way they drooped slightly, clouded with both affection and infatuation every time they met yours. How the muscles in his abs were flexing with every movement. The sinful, obscene sway of his hips. The little smirk that broke on his face when you accidentally moaned his name too loud—Donghyuck was... Beautiful. Irresistible. Sexy.

“Baby?” Donghyuck called, chuckling softly as he peppered open-mouthed kisses to your ankle that made you stare in a haze. “You okay down there?”

You pursed your lips. “Just enjoying the view.”

“Yeah?” He brought your leg down so he could fall back into your arms, mouth meeting your jawline before it moved to playfully bite the tip of your nose. “Well, I’ve got something else you could also enjoy.”

You hummed, trying your best to contain your moan when he suddenly brought his fingers down to rub against your clit. “And what’s that?” Though by the way he slammed his hips harder against yours served as an obvious answer.

“Some caramel pudding,” he answered, nipping against your neck as he grinned, careful enough not to leave any marks. “They’re in the fridge. You’ll love them.”

It was hard to focus when he kept hitting the spot that made you curl your toes. “Hyuck...” You pushed a loose strand of his hair behind his ear before you caressed his cheek. “I love you.”

His movements stopped, eyes peering into yours, stunned at first, then melted into something softer than the breath of summer. “I love you too.” His lips never left yours as they spoke each loving word with more sentimentality and less urgency. “And happy birthday, baby...”

When both of you had no strength left but to cuddle in each other’s arms, you gathered the courage to ask once more. “Hyuck?”

“Hmm?”

“I still want to know, after all. About what happened to you earlier. You looked so distraught—I can’t rest before I know what upsets you.”

Donghyuck’s fingers stopped momentarily from carding through your strands but with a heavy sigh, he surrendered.

It was his first relationship with his first love, back when he was sixteen. They were together for four years but knew each other for ten. She was a close friend that grew into something more. Even loving words didn’t need to be exchanged as they could practically finish each other’s thoughts. You felt a pang of jealousy gnawing at you from the inside, at the thought of him having someone so important in his life—someone who had stayed with him longer than you’d met him—someone whose name couldn’t be spoken as it triggered too many emotions.

But for the sake of understanding him, you cast your jealousy aside, no matter how much it hurt.

Donghyuck’s voice had lost its usual cheeriness when he reminisced his past. By the time they graduated high school, she decided to continue her study in Japan. Donghyuck let her go, supporting her plans and dreams like the perfect boyfriend that he was. They were committed to each other, faithful to one another. Donghyuck never doubted her, not even once.

Until one day, during a summer break, he decided to pay her a visit. He bought airplane tickets with the money he’d saved up for months, along with a thoughtful gift for her birthday. But the second he saw her opening the door to her apartment, he realized that she wasn’t alone.

She was never alone. He was.

“Why are you here?” She asked, as if his presence was a bother. Him, the man whom she claimed she’d loved with her entire soul for the last four years. The man whom she had made love to on his bed just six months earlier. Donghyuck would never forget the look she had on her face that day.

“It’s funny how you’ve been with this person your whole life,” Donghyuck breathily said, eyes locked to the ceiling. “And you thought you knew them like the back of your hand and then one day, they betrayed you in the way you thought they were incapable of doing.”

You couldn’t find your voice, blending in with the silence of the room.

But he didn’t hate her, Donghyuck confessed. He hated himself. He hated how stupid—how innocent and gullible he was. He hated how easily he let someone else carry his heart around and let them do whatever they want with it. He knew that she wouldn’t have the power to destroy him, if he didn’t give her the chance. Maybe, if his thoughts weren’t as clouded by his feelings, he would’ve noticed the little sighs she made whenever he told her he loved her. He would’ve noticed the way she sounded much brighter when she talked about her life instead of their lives together during their late-night calls. He would’ve noticed how distant she sounded whenever she spoke his name, as if it was just another meaningless word and not the one that she used to murmur in short gasps near his ear.

And maybe if I hadn’t fallen in love...

Donghyuck fell mute for a few seconds as if he was drifted to another time and space. The hurting look on his face was so vivid that it broke you just by seeing it. Attempting to wash the pain away, you placed a hand on his cheek and Donghyuck grew rigid once before he melted into smiles, leaning into your touch.

“I had to stay for a whole week in a country I didn’t know because I couldn’t refund my ticket. All alone, since my girlfriend cheated on me and didn’t even care to apologize about it,” he murmured against your palm, still sounding bitter but with more ease. “So yeah, I probably have some trust issues now because of that.” He tried to laugh it off. “But it’s all right. I don’t care. I have you now, right?” He laid on his side, facing you with a boyish smile that made your heart race just a little bit faster. “I’m starting on a new page with you. And as long as you’re here with me, I’m the happiest man in the world.”

You reflected his smile though your heart was unsettled. “You’re lame.”

“Excuse me, I’m in love,” he corrected, pouting. But when his hand found yours, his expression grew tender again. Kissing each of your fingertips, he murmured, “We’ll always be together, right? Promise you won’t do that to me, ‘cause I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He knew what loving you could cost him, but you were different. And he was different. He wouldn’t fall into the same trap. He knew how to protect himself this time. So he allowed himself to love you just as much, if not more, moving on but never forget.

Your eyes were focusing on the way he brought your index finger between his lips, the tip pressing against his hot tongue. “Yes,” you softly whispered, hooking a finger around his silver necklace, pulling him in for a kiss. “We’ll always be together.”

So when you received a job promotion a year later, you didn’t know what to say to him. It was your dream job, finally achieving that position after practically hanging on for dear life for five years working in the company. The salary exceeded your expectation, and you would be working under a senior that you admired. The company would pay for all your living expenses, give you your own flat to live with a balcony where you could see the sun rising behind the skyscrapers. It all sounded so perfect. Too perfect.

Except for the part where you had to move to another country that stood three thousand miles from where he was.

You knew you should’ve said something to Donghyuck the first time your director broke the news to you. But you couldn’t as you didn’t know how. During the three years of your relationship, both of you had avoided talking about matters that could lead to fights, only allowing yourselves to discuss trivial, daily things that would make the other pout in annoyance but not fury. The first time you noticed this happened, was when both of you became too busy dealing with your own lives. You had your job to think about, while Donghyuck had his thesis to work on and there wasn’t much time to focus on each other even when you were staying in the same room.

Donghyuck often released his stress by nuzzling his nose against your neck, pulling you into his lap, whispering, “I miss you,” and you reciprocated each time with a kiss but you both stopped before it got too much, with you patting his cheek, apologizing to him with both words and your eyes, “I’m sorry, but I have a Zoom meeting in an hour so I really need to get my presentation done.”

He just sighed, pressing a tiny kiss between your eyebrows. “Well then, I’m gonna go catch some sleep. Don’t work too hard.”

And as he walked to the bedroom, closing the door behind him, leaving you alone in his living room, you realized the distance that grew between you. He used to look back, peeking his head through the door, saying, “Would it really kill you to just join me for, like, fifteen minutes? I’ll be fast, I swear,” which you would answer with a laugh, assuming he was joking. “Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”

Now, he doesn’t even stop to say good night.

You knew you could fix it—he knew he could fix it too—but none of you ever said anything about it, afraid that it would trigger something bigger that neither of you wouldn’t be able to fix.

It didn’t mean that you didn’t try. Every weekend, you would commit yourself fully for him and Donghyuck would accept your unspoken apology with all his heart. You once attempted to drop some clues about your promotion during dinner when he made you your favorite dish, grinning from ear-to-ear as he waited for your reaction. Donghyuck’s Spaghetti Aglio e olio never disappointed you, but you know your words would. So when he was smiling at you, his thumb gliding along your knuckles as he took your hand in his, how could you tell him?

I just need more time to prepare myself. To find a better way to explain.

But before you could find your words, Donghyuck found your promotion letter.

“What is this?” He asked to your horror, body leaning against the doorframe, your letter in his hand.

The maroon dress you were trying to fold fell from your lap as you stood up abruptly, eyes widening in shock. “That’s—where did you get—”

“What is this?”

“It’s...” You trembled. “My promotion letter.”

“Are you planning to tell me about it?” He wasn’t shouting, didn’t even raise his voice, but to your ears, his voice was thunderous.

You fidgeted, fingers fisting the hemline of your shirt, desperate for comfort. “Of course, I—” But there were no words. Your brain was too jumbled to find a proper excuse. So when Donghyuck just lowered his gaze, eyes growing colder, and left the room, you could only call out his name.

He only stopped in his tracks when you grasped his wrist. “Did you say yes to this?” His voice was quiet, eerily so, that it sent shivers down your spine.

You nibbled at your bottom lip. “I was—”

“Yes or no?”

He only allowed you to choose, not explain. With a deep breath, you mumbled out, “Yes.”

There was a moment of silence where you could only hear your stuttered breathing but none of his. “Three months,” he murmured, voice deep and hoarse that you barely recognized it. “The letter is three months old. You had all this time to tell me.”

Panic was bubbling up your chest. “I was going to tell you but—”

The rest of your words died instantly the second Donghyuck slammed the letter on the dining table. Without another word, he stomped off to the front door, grabbing his coat.

“Wait!” You chased after his trails, knees wobbling. “Where are you—”

The door was shut close with a bang.

No matter how many times you tried to call him, he never answered. The only thing you could do was stay in his apartment and waited until he came back to his senses. Now that you were alone in the living room, you began to notice just how much of your belongings were positioned in every corner of his apartment. Your toothbrush was next to his, your clothes were hanging inside his wardrobe, your favorite books were on his shelf, and the walls were painted with more photographs of you than his own. In every picture, you could see yourself smiling in his arms, laughing at something he did or said because that was it, wasn’t it? Donghyuck was the only one who could make you smile so freely, without a care in the world.

So why are we in this position?

It was your first big fight and you had no one to blame but yourself. Hours had passed by and tears began to well from how frustrated you were with yourself, but the front door flung open before they could outline your cheeks.

“Hyuck,” you called out, heart breaking at the sound of his name. Donghyuck’s hair was ruffled by the wind, his nose and cheeks reddening from the cold night air. His hands were in his coat’s pockets, his eyes hiding behind his bangs as he kicked his shoes away. He walked past you as if you weren’t there, heading straight to the bedroom.

Judging from the scent and his droopy eyes, you knew he had been drinking. “Are you okay?”

No answer. He took his coat off, throwing it to the bed, along with his phone—which was clearly functional as always. You had expected him to dismiss your calls, but it still hurt being ignored.

Eyebrows knitting in concern, you went to the kitchen to make him a cup of coffee, hoping that a little caffeine would ease the tension as it was something you were both fond of. You stopped to catch your breath, noticing that it was one in the morning.

What should I do?

“Hyuck…” You carefully said, voice quieter than usual as you walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind you. “I’ve made you some coffee. It’ll help warm you up.”

Donghyuck was sitting at the edge of the bed, his phone in his hands, blatantly ignoring you.

“Can we…” You hesitated, fingers curling into tiny balls of fists. “Can we talk..?”

But the silence was deafening.

“Hyuck—”

“What?!” He suddenly roared, making you take a step back, flinching. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I…” You swallowed your breath. “I know you’re upset about me leaving and I’m sorry—”

“Oh, so now you want to talk about this? After I found out about your letter?” Donghyuck didn’t wait for your response. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this a secret from me! What else are you not telling me?”

Heart dropping to the stomach, you weakly replied, “Nothing, just... I was going to tell you—”

“Yeah? When, exactly?” Donghyuck stood up, throwing his phone to the bed. “When you’re about to go? When you’re about to disappear from my life just like her?”

Being put in the same position as the person who tore his heart to pieces was both sickening and infuriating. “Of course not, I won’t do that to you! I won’t leave you—”

“But that’s all that everybody fucking said!” He threw his hands in the air. “That’s what she said when—”

“Well, I’m not her!” The booming sound of your voice startled you both, but it grew weak in comparison when the eerie silence followed. “Hyuck, you can’t blame me for what she did. I’m not her. I’m not her replacement. Don’t compare me with her.”

For a moment, Donghyuck’s lips were pressed tightly until they grew white. “I never compared you with her,” he said through gritted teeth. “Not until now when you’re doing the same thing, saying the exact same thing to me.”

You cowered slightly under his gaze. The sound of the ticking clock had never felt so loud when you fought for words to say. “It’s my dream job, Hyuck. I’ve been waiting all my life to get this position.”

“Congratulations.” He scoffed, clenching his jaw. “I’m so glad you get what you wanted.”

“You don’t have to force yourself to say words you don’t mean.”

He clicked his tongue in vexation. “Yeah, well, I would’ve meant them, if you had told me about this sooner.”

“I wasn’t able to tell you because I thought you’d be upset about it—”

“Well, I suppose, postponing it until we’re counting days till your leave is going to make me feel fucking elated, isn’t that right, Sweetheart?” There had never been a day where you thought his adorable, warm laughter could turn into something so spiteful. “Let me guess. You’re leaving in like, what, a month?”

You rubbed your tears away before they fell. “Six weeks.”

“Oh, that makes everything so much better! Six weeks!” He cynically laughed, throwing his head back. “You know what? You’re right. I’m so happy. Never been this fucking happy in my whole goddamn life—”

“What do you want me to do?!” The frustration that welled inside your chest finally broke through your lips. “You want me to turn back time so I could tell you right after I heard the news three months ago?”

Donghyuck averted his gaze, his hand going to his head, pulling at his hair roots. “I just don’t understand why if this is so important to you—and if I’m so important to you—why don’t you talk this out with me? Don’t you care about what I think? About how I’d feel?”

Tears were running faster than you could wipe them off your cheeks. “I couldn’t find the right time to tell you.” You choked out. “ And you were busy working on your final thesis too, I didn’t want to bother you—”

“That’s your excuse?!” he gasped in disbelief. “I don’t fucking care about my thesis. I care about you! And you knew how I felt about this—about being in a long-distance relationship—"

“That was the reason why I was waiting for the right time until—“

“Until you can tell me that you’re leaving.” He sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m tired and we’re going in circles. Why are we even discussing this when you’ve made the decision all by yourself.”

Embittered, you asked, “Do you want me to choose between you and my career?”

“No. I don’t.” He finally peered into your eyes, and you could see how there was not as much anger as sadness that emerged in his eyes. “But I’m making my own decision.” When you frowned in confusion, Donghyuck looked away, staring at the wall that was filled with memories as he spoke. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“What?” It felt like the world was swallowing you whole. “What did you say?”

Exchanging stares with you, Donghyuck appeared more weary than furious. “I just don’t see how this is going to work.”

“You’re drunk.” You reasoned out, both in efforts to calm him down and to wash the fear away from your chest. “You won’t be saying any of this if you were sober.”

Donghyuck’s eyes grew colder. “If that’s what makes you sleep at night, sure. Go ahead and think that way.”

Dread was coursing through your veins, making you feel terrified of what was coming. “Wait,” you almost pleaded, “We need to talk about this.”

“I think we’ve talked enough.”

“Can’t we at least try—”

“I can’t.” The confession escaped his lips, his eyes were heartbroken, as if it was you who was breaking up with him and not the other way around. “You know I can’t do this. I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes. I don’t want to be that guy who constantly gets suspicious or overly protective of you because of my past. It won’t be fair to you.”

“I don’t care if you’re being unfair,” you replied shakily, “I just don’t want us to end what we have now.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice grew softer. “If we continue this, I know I’ll end up saying things I never mean to say. With three thousand miles between us, how often do you think we can see each other? With you being so busy with your new job, how often can we speak?” But the bitterness in his voice came alive when he added, “We could barely do that when we were in the same room before.”

“It’s about that..?” Realization washed over you like a wave. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Same reason as you,” he replied, “To protect our relationship. That’s what we always do, isn’t it? Pretending everything is fine when it’s not?”

“Hyuck, I’ve tried my best to spend time with you... I thought you’d understand that I have a job—”

“You’re right, but unlike you, I don’t.” Donghyuck weakly smiled. “I don’t have anything going on with my life except you. I don’t even know if I can graduate in time. But you’ve achieved so much. You’re only a few years older than me and yet you’ve already had everything figured out, and I admire you for that.” His words sounded sincere but it only tore your heart open even more. Donghyuck walked closer, his fingers pushing the bangs out of your eyes like the way he used to do but it didn’t feel the same. “You’re already perfect the way you are now. You don’t need me in your life.”

“No.” The desperation was so thick in your voice, that it made you wince but not regret. “You’re wrong, you—There’s not a day where I don’t need you, Hyuck. I want you to stay with me. Come with me. We still have time.”

You don’t mean that. Donghyuck brought his head down, unable to meet your eyes. If you did, you would’ve told me about this sooner. “And then what?” he sighed, sounding so tired. “What am I going to do if I come with you? I haven’t even finished my study, let alone having a job.”

“You can find one in—”

“In a country where I can’t even speak the language?” He bitterly smiled. “I doubt it. I’m not gonna let you pay for my needs—”

“Then, I’ll make some time for you, I promise. Better this time.” Your fingernails were sinking into your palms from how tightly you curled them. “No matter how far we are from each other, I’ll call you every day.”

“I don’t want that.” His words were laced with frustration. “I don’t want you to force yourself to do something for me. And I don’t want to spend my nights imagining whether you’re spending yours with someone else.”

“You...” You were so quiet, you wondered if he could hear you properly. “You don’t trust me?”

But Donghyuck shook his head, gaze softening. “I do. I just don’t trust myself.”

Your mind turned into a blank slate, unable to form a word. Donghyuck’s breathing tattered a little when he exhaled, walking to his wardrobe to pick out some clothes. “I’m gonna go stay at Mark’s for the weekend. Feel free to take out your stuff. Just drop the keys at the lobby when you’re finished.”

You stood still, frozen. It almost felt like a heart attack from the way your heart was hammering against your ribcages. “I don’t want to lose you, Hyuck,” you quietly professed, “I thought we could work this out...”

Donghyuck’s movements were put to a halt, just for a couple of seconds, before he continued shoving his clothes down his bag.

You stood on the side as he walked past you, his natural sandalwood scent had disappeared, buried under the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. “So, this is it…?” You fretted. “For us..?”

Donghyuck stopped walking, glancing at you from over his shoulder. “It’s better for both of us, don’t you think?”

But he didn’t wait to hear your answer.

When you dared to appear at his front door six weeks later, it was the night before your departure. He hadn’t called, hadn’t sent you a single text, as if he was a ghost, only living in your imagination. But knowing it was your last chance to see him, you decided to take the first step.

Donghyuck was wearing the same navy blue knitted sweater that he wore the first time you told him you loved him. You remembered how startled he was back then, unsure of what to say as he was afraid to love someone else after knowing how it felt to have his heart shattered to pieces. That time, he only responded with a hug and a small “Thank you.” As you laid in his arms later that night, you spent every second with your eyes closed but your thoughts awake, trying to figure out why won’t he say it back?

But when you left for work early on the next morning, one arm holding an umbrella over your head to protect you from the morning showers, Donghyuck was chasing after you in the same knitted sweater, his hair messy from sleep but soon be drenched by the rain.

“I love you too!” he shouted, breathlessly, both from running and the rush of adrenaline that pumped through his veins.

You turned around, eyes wide in astonishment, though you didn’t catch his words. “What—” You were about to run so you could shelter him from the rain, but Donghyuck reached your spot faster than you could reach his. “What are you doing? Why didn’t you take an umbrella with you?” You dropped your handbag to the ground, not caring if it got wet from the rain as you focused more on the man who was shivering in front of you. You rubbed his arm up and down before cupping his face. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine. I just have something to say before you go.” He broke into a tender smile, pressing his palm against the back of your hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back last night. I was afraid. Being in love with someone means you’re giving your heart for them to hold or to crush and I didn’t want to go through that pain again but—” He stepped closer, his temple nearly touching yours as he brought his head down. “I love you. I want you to know that I love you too. I don’t want to lie to myself anymore and I don’t care what’s gonna happen in the future. I just love you, so much, that both my heart and my head feel like they’re going to burst.”

And you could only stare, dumbstruck and in awe.

“Say something, please?” He begged, cold fingers caressing your cheek. “Otherwise, I might have to crawl into a hole and die from shame.”

You chuckled lightly, overwhelmed by the sheer happiness that washed over you. “I love you too.”

He seemed so relieved, almost as much as you were, and he twisted his fingers around your strands, chasing after your lips. The kiss was sweeter than honey but knowing him, even the sweetest kiss emitted so much passion, it left you breathless.

“I’m sorry, I know you gotta go to work,” he said, slightly pushing you away before his emotions defeated him once more and he slanted his lips against yours in a more frenzied manner. “God, I know you have to go,” he whispered between needy kisses. “But just—one more—”

When he finally had the strength to break apart from you, his eyes were conflicted, his thumb caressing your cheek, and Donghyuck wetted his already glistened lip as he stared at yours. “Must you go? I want to be with you today.”

It didn’t matter that the two of you just spent the entire weekend together. No amount of time would be enough to satisfy your needs for each other’s touch. So you answered him with your lips meeting his in a frantic kiss, casting your umbrella aside and it didn’t matter that it was cold, with big droplets of rain easily drenching you from head to toe, because Donghyuck was always ready to warm you up.

“Then take me home, Lee Donghyuck.”

But you realized as he tugged you back into his arms, soft lips pressing against your temple, you were already home.

Now… That memory felt like a fantasy, one that you could only dream of having.

“I…” You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I just wanted to get the books I left on your shelf.”

He didn’t say a word, only stepping to the side to give you some space to enter. A month had passed by since he broke up with you, and his apartment still smelled delightfully like him, but instead of making you feel joy, it broke your heart even harder.

“It’s in my room,” he said, all stern with no warmth like he used to have. You nodded, making your way to his bedroom. When you closed the bedroom door behind you, hot tears were about to spill and you tried your best not to be suffocated with the memories of the nights where you used to share your feelings with him, bodies tangled underneath the sheets, lips carving marks on each other’s skins.

You couldn’t breathe.

By the time you managed to collect yourself, you came out of his room with two of your books in your hands while you left ten more on his shelf. You didn’t need any of them. It was only a poor excuse for you to see his eyes once more before you bid your final farewell.

“I made you some coffee,” he said, leaning against the coffee table. “It’s cold outside so…”

You weakly smiled. “Thank you.”

You used to spend hours chattering behind a few cups of coffee, talking about the things that mattered and things that didn’t because everything felt special when you shared them with someone you loved.

But today, every sip of your coffee sounded louder than your voice as no words were shared.

You said you care

And you missed me too

And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you

“How are you?”

“I’m doing great,” he answered formally. It’s funny how he didn’t need spiteful words to hurt you. The absence of his affection in his sentences was more than enough to strangle you.

“Are you… still writing lyrics for Mark’s songs these days?”

“No. I’m busy these days.”

“Oh… With your thesis?”

“Sure.”

Donghyuck didn’t tell you the truth. Didn’t tell you how many papers had been written, scratched, discarded just so he could deal with the thoughts of you. Didn’t tell you the words he wrote about your pretty eyes, your pretty smiles, your kindness, your passion, your everything.

The reason why he let you go was because he knew, you would probably stay with him if he’d asked the question. He didn’t want you to have any regrets. Didn’t want you to choose him because you felt like you had no other way.

It felt like you betrayed him when you kept it a secret for months.

What else will you keep from me, if you can’t even tell me you’re leaving? Will you keep it a secret when you no longer love me the way you used to? Will you keep it a secret when you find someone new, someone better, someone who can stay to wipe your tears and hold you in their arms while I’m three thousand miles away from you? Will you pretend like everything is fine, when we’re straying further away from each other every day?

In Donghyuck’s mind, he thought you’d be better on your own. At such a young age, you managed to chase after your dreams while he was still unsure of what he wanted to have in the future. To him, you were always a step ahead. And tomorrow, you’d be taking your first step to another place where he wouldn’t have the strength to follow.

His thoughts about you were never-ending. And he wrote so much, poured every feeling down to papers, that now as you stood before him in person, there were no more words left to be said and he could only reply your sentences with silence.

And the coffee's out

At the Beachwood Cafe

And it kills me 'cause I know we've run out of things we can say

“I’ll be leaving tomorrow,” you eventually said and Donghyuck glanced at you from behind his bangs, but never stayed for a second longer.

He knew. Of course, he did. He had been counting the days, dreading every second of it. “Take care of yourself,” he responded in a way a stranger would say to another stranger at the end of their brief meeting. “Good luck with your job. I’m sure you’ll be fine, Noona.”

Noona... He didn’t even want to call you by your name or the sweet terms he’d once associated with you. You were truly strangers now.

“Thanks.” You forced yourself to smile, nails sinking into your thighs as you brought your hands to your lap. “You too. Don’t forget to take your breakfast every day. You always skip it.”

It was your job to remind him, who used to serve fried eggs and toasts on his plate and maybe Donghyuck remembered that too because he brought his head down, and simply replied with a hum.

When you took your leave, you handed him a note to your new address. “Just… Come visit whenever you’re in the country. I’d love to show you around.” It sickened you how formal you sounded, but you couldn’t say it any other way.

When Donghyuck took the note, your fingers brushed against his, it almost seemed like the time stopped, just for a little, and he wanted to pull you into his embrace, to tell you how much he’d been missing you the same way you’d been missing him. To tell you how much he wanted to be selfish, to have you choose him over everything in your life because that was how you meant to him. You were everything to him.

Just like how you are to me.

So when he dropped his hand, tucking it inside his pocket, you knew it was really over. Finally, the word goodbye took its true form.

And I get the feeling that you’ll never need me again.

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