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swinterr · 4 years ago

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fic rec vii ♡

hi!

this is a another new set of fic rec and i’ll probably do a compilation of genre (?) just like the first ones.

read and support the fic and authors here: the fic rec ♡

made some changes like tidying up a bit and adding summary, for those that doesn’t have any summary i’ll try my best to add my own summary (it will probably be shit tho, i ain’t making a smut summary guys, i’m not confident in my describing a fic ability but i’ll try my best. if its in italic it means i made the summary hehez ) if the summary is shit, i made it okay.

a for angst

f for fluff

s for smut

// for series or list

kpop oc/s

1. jane by @baejiyeonz

2. bee by @purpleyellow

3. lian by @nct-lian

4. taehui by @jeontaehui

nct

sungchan

1. [10:47 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

haechan

1. [5:21] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

2. you’re warm by @dreamystuffers | f

- a drunk hyuck can only mean a clingy hyuck.

3. you’re short too by @pastelsicheng | f

- 5 times hyuck teases u for ur height.

4. no title by @heychan | s

- dirty thought cockwarming haechan and johnny comes in to the room while you are trying to hide it but haechan doesn’t care.

5. wishes by @lucaswithnoshirt | a f

- standing on stage is everything you’ve dreamed of. except in the time it’s taken you to get there, you’ve been dreaming about other things, too.

jaehyun

1. moving in: the series by @jaehyun-ified | f

- after agreeing to move-in with jaehyun, you decided to curate a little series on your channel to both give in to your viewer’s request to have jaehyun frequently on your contents and to document your moving in process with the love of you life.

2. [8:14 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

3. boyfriend by @simpsiren | a

- a relationship with jaehyun wasn’t always perfect. there wasn’t a definite label on it, which only sent the relationship down a complicated pathway as we tried to find the meaning of our love once again.

4. best part by @okayoongii | f

- don’t know how to describe this tho, just read it. also 10/10

5. can i help you? by @sugarjaee | f s

- when working an extra long shift at work, your boyfriend surprises you with a visit.

6. stages of love by @biletdoux | a f s

- a playlist for the trials and tribulations of a beating heart.

7. [9:04 am] by @jeongvision | // f

- domestic fluffy blurb. 10/10!!

8. suds by @kim-taehung | s

- first person to move does the dishes for a week. nothing is off-limits.

9. promise by @bvbyxuxi | f a

- jaehyun has loved you since you were both kids, things were going well until he messed everything up; meeting again as young adults, he refuses to let you go again but would you give him another chance?

mark

1. one minus on plus one by @wonjaekook | f a

- in all of the years you’ve known jungwoo, you should have figured out to not take his words at face value because, though you haven’t even met, mark lee seems to hate your guts.

2. [12:03] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

3. pretty boy by @epinebleue | f a

- fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, the reader is two years older than mark, jaehyun makes an appearance as the reader’s fuck buddy, use of alcohol and drugs (marijuana), mentions of violence (mark punches someone), smut (protected sex, inexperienced!mark, dry humping).

4. camera flash by @morkleemelon | f

- mark taking a picture but forgot to remove flash waking up oc, pretty fluffy and cute! 10/10!!!

5. retrouvailles by @kireimarkeu | f

- counting down the days until you finally see your long-distance boyfriend.

jungwoo

1. [1:14 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

johnny

1. man-icure by @haejunehui | f

- based on jcc ep. 26

taeyong

1. reverb by @lovingonrepeat | s

- taeyong + studio sex.

2. unspoken by @bvbyxuxi | f s

- you had never thought to see taeyong again after your one night stand with him until this year where he takes you by surprise; turns out he wasn’t the guy you sought him out to be after all.

ten

1. [2:32 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

lucas

1. [4:31 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

2. king of hearts by @raibebe | f s a

- a little bit of everything, a chef’s kiss.

yuta

1. [5:51 pm ] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

doyoung

1. redamancy by @heavenlyhaechan | f

- this is just so fluffy! i wished to be doyong gf please.

2. fools together by @yongiefilms | f

- two fools in love with each other?

3. acedia by @jaeminscoffee | f

- a day in the life of yours and doyoung's love life.

4. our little secret by @haejunehui | f

- read to know their little secret. hehe.

5. caught red handed by @hannie-dul-set | f

- all you wanted to do was take a picture of the handsome law student during your train ride home. you did not expect things to end up like this.

jeno

1. i see red by @0097linersb | s

- pure filth 🥵10/10 tho.

2. addiction by @love-mi | s f

- you and jeno keep your relationship a secret to avoid backlash from your companies and fans; but keeping himself away only makes him want you more.

3. surprise visit by @nakamotonudes | f s

- you hadn’t seen your boyfriend for over a month because of his hectic schedule so when he suddenly shows up at your place one night for a surprise visit, you both have to make every second worth it.

bts

jungkook

1. the pitter-patter of the heart by @koorara | f s a //

- pieces of newlywed domestic moments with jungkook, your husband. the young film and literature lecturer and his wife, you, who works as a journalist of a web magazine. both of you managing the career, the time for each other and the new house. not to forget, chip, the cat that has been with you for years.

2. please love me by @ahundredtimesover | // f s a

- as the only unmarried jeon and kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. but despite developing an affection for jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. you’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.

3. first love, last love by @floralseokjin | f s //

- a collection of drabbles following the longterm relationship between jungkook and you...

4. second chances by @parkhabits | a s

- work. one of the most important things to him. It kept him company at night, it was all he thought about, all he put his attention to. his work had become the mistress within your marriage. years after you left him you’re back with only one goal in mind. get him to sign the damn divorce papers. yet you should’ve known that your husband wouldn’t let you go that easily.

5. crush by @jungxk | f s

- jungkook woke up with amnesia (?) he totally forgets that he has a wife and child. and he totally has a huge crush on his wife.

6. bare necessities by @gguksgalaxy | f s a

- when you ask your boyfriend for a relaxing vacation you don’t exactly expect him to take you to disneyland out of all places. luckily, jungkook knows just how to get you to relax — being needy is definitely not the way. or is it…

7. krampus for christmas by @ddaenysus | f

- when your daughter overhears your nightly activities close to christmas, jungkook takes it upon himself to convince her it was the sounds of the legendary demon goat.

8. a date with destiny by @imjustfanfictrash | f s

- you are a boss lady in the tech industry traveling to world for work. he is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

9. stranded by @gguksgalaxy | f s a

- jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. his entire presence is unwelcome. you don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. it’s annoying — he is annoying. from the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. nope, you definitely can’t stand him.

10. sprout by @v-hope | f

- after a nice evening out with your friends, you find yourself coming home to your sleeping toddler and the new hairstyle she had tried on your husband.

11. friday nights and take-out by @ahundredtimesover | // f s a

- you meet pop star/idol jeon jungkook at the café, you get close, and as hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. but you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

12. jealousy by @ephemeralkookie | f s a

- jungkook’s closest friend, namjoon is getting married and he invited you three to his wedding. the only unexpected thing was jisoo, his ex, and we’ll just say that you were not too happy to see her flirting with your boyfriend right under your nose

13. a quarter past us by @jjiimin | f a

- when you break up with him out of fear of losing your freedom in university, he finds himself showing you why leaving him isn’t the answer.

14. pretty boy by @angelguk | // f s a

- alternatively known as the jock!jk universe drabbles in vague chronological order.

15. summer solstice by @boulevardk | s

- down on your luck and desperate for a successful harvest, you pray to the gods. you figure no one in heaven was listening to your prayers when nothing happens immediately. but one fateful night, your prayers are answered. are you willing to pay the price? the sacrifice might not be what you were expecting….

16. lilac wisteria by @blushoseoks | f a

- over the years, things change - but the one constant is your love for lilac wisterias.…okay, maybe jungkook’s been there too.or, alternatively:the first time jeon jungkook says that he is going to marry you, you are five years old sitting underneath a large wisteria tree.

17. obsessed with your ass by @kooklovesu | f s

- jungkook has an obsession with your body he cant get enough of praising you. he wasn’t comfy showing the world his affection towards you in public because he’s a private guy, but when he finally did, good luck.

18. from home by @gyukult | // f s a

- jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class?

19. black card by @minsprings | // f s

- black card fic and drabbles, also a chef’s kiss.

20. oh my god, they were (quarantined) roommates by @ot7always | f s

- what do you do when you’re quarantined for months on end with jeon jungkook - s tier cuddler, workout robot, and thirst trap extraordinaire? fuck him, you guess.

21. let the games begin by @venusiangguk | s

- just another fic where oc rides jk in his gaming chair pls still read it tho lmao its hot i promise

22. the probability of us by @jiminrings | f s

- jungkook’s the son of the university’s president, y/n’s cardigan is everyone’s favorite, and adjacent walls mean shared victories.

23. open when by @iluv-hobi | f

- jungkook likes to write letters to you, especially ones with purposes, like “open when ___”. one day, on a particularly bad day, you open, “open when you’ve had a shitty day”.

24. good day by @ilikemesometaetaes | f s

- his motive was made quite clear once he called you out of work. he just wanted to spend a nice day with his girlfriend. is that too much to ask for?

25. calculated by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // s

- some people would call you far too serious. some would call you stuck-up. and some would call you a bitch. but to freshman jeon jungkook, you’re the head calculus I TA noona – and he’s determined to fuck you.

26. brat taming by @sugasbabiie | s a f

- jungkook has been your roommate for almost a year. since the day he moved in he has acted like nothing but a spoiled little brat who is used to getting anything and anyone he wants. he eats your food, he doesn’t clean, he’s loud, oh and now he has colored his hair the exact shade of blonde as you. He’ll do anything to get under your skin. you’ve had enough of his filthy mouth and his fuckboy ways. it’s time to tame that bratty little roommate of yours. think you can handle it?

27. sugarplum energy by @bymoonchild | f s a

- you know no bounds nor depth with jungkook. while your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on soundcloud. all’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. or, jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

28. ancient history by @moononthejoon | a s f

- there is no way to deny that you and jungkook have chemistry. the two of you used to be a couple, after all. what happens when after a not-so-amicable breakup the two of you are cast as opposite leads of a movie?

29. that’s not daddy by @nochuobsessed | f

- jungkook comes home with a new hair color and his sons can’t tell if he’s appa or not. pretty cute! 10/10

30. no title by @himbojk | s

- jk got a blowie from his oc while on a zoom class meeting, like cam on with a whole set up but his oc under the table sucking the life out of him while he sits and tries to take notes .

31. dilf jk by @himbojk | // s f

- dilf jk drabbles.

32. no title by @himbojk | s

- blond jk with full tattoo sleeve who looks like the baddest boy but is actually baby and just wants a handie in the library while studying with his oc because she aspires to have those high grades.

33. no title by @noteguk | s

- bf!jungkook going down on the reader while they watch anime.

34. silent treatment by @blu-joons | f

- baby kook asking daddy kook to say sorry to mommy. 10/10 too!

35. getting railed by @dearlytea | s

- getting dicked by your boyfriend during a train ride.

36. the view by @koyamuses | s

- jungkook knows exactly what turns you on; every kink, every dirty fantasy that’s buried deep within your mind. he knows exactly how to make you beg for it.

37. let’s play: dirty by @jungkxook | f s

- on today’s stream, watch as the king of gaming jeon jungkook gets totally pwned by some newbie player on overwatch (he swears he was stream sniped)! to make matters worse, he can’t seem to focus anymore when you’re in the room but he promises that’s not because he’s in love with you or anything. use code ‘jungkook’ on any game purchase through steam at checkout for 25% off so that jungkook has something to feel better about! iloveyou btw!

38. more dilf!jk by @cutechim | s

- oc thirsting over jk, talk about finances, jungwoo is an innocent cock-block as infants are, disrespect towards a major film franchise.

39. you are inherently beautiful by @ggukachuwu | f a

- when y/n and jungkook accidentally reveal their relationship to the public because she walked in on him doing a vlive and now netizens and kmedia are tearing apart her appearance because y/n is chubby from struggling with pcos. jungkook takes it upon himself to cheer her up because he absolutely adores her.

40. morning with jk by @min-arya | f

- jungkook drabble of him catching his s/o admiring him in the morning with soft sleepy cuddles.

41. even a forest fire dies out by @9uk | a s

- it became from “grab a coffee with me?” to “why should I grab a coffee with you?” too fast for your liking. you had thought the both of you were so in love with each other—only to realise it was only you who had fallen into this trap of feelings. and as for jungkook, he might have just been as confused as you are.

42. all that we had by @starlightauroras-writes | a s

- four years, two months and five days ago, you lost the love of your life with no explanation. living with a failed marriage at such a young age without knowing why was impossibly hard, and when you’re invited to your high school reunion, knowing he would be there, you really don’t want to go. what happens when you do leaves you questioning fate.

43. aquarium by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // a

- life after jeon jungkook was grey. you had to find your own color, grow your own rainbow. but what would surprise you the most is the appearance of white cosmos, seven of them clutched tightly in kim taehyung’s hand.

44. contentment by @btsqualityy | f s

- oc’s using jk’s card to buy rug and the rest is history. 10/10!!

45. heartbreaker with a heart of gold by @filmflowersbangtan | a s

- love this!!! you know i love me some angst! 10/10!!!!!

46. the ikea test by @mercurygguk | f

- you and jeongguk face the IKEA test. successfully? sure!

47. before you universe by @ephemeralkookie | // a f s

- jungkook has taken a huge place in your life after he tattooed you, and you can’t even picture how life was before him. he has always been there for you since day one. but how will things change after you find out you’re pregnant?

48. christmas cream(pie) by @smoochkooks | s f

- a day before christmas dinner with your boyfriend’s parents, you discover another alternative way to use the chocolate cream you’re making. jungkook is more than willing to indulge in your little fantasy.

49. last minute by @moononthejoon | f s

- christmas day had gone by, and now you were back home after holidays with your family. your friends had agreed to have a late christmas party, but as always, you and jungkook procrastinated gift buying.

50. you go in knowing bros together by @blu-joons | f

- a cute fluffy knowing at knowing bros moment.

51. no title by @v-hope | f

- the way y/n would react when someone else flirts with jk and how he’d handle the situation.

52. hair dye by @mercurygguk | f s

- jungkook got his hair dyed while at work. you lose your mind the moment he steps through the door.

53. stay gold by @yeojaa | s

- blond!jk being a good boy?

54. crystal snow by @honeyj00ns | f

- when you join Jungkook and the rest of the guys for some fun in the snow, he can’t help but feel jealous.

55. 6:21 am by @sincerelyourfangirl | f

- in which he makes your morning extra special.

56. plan b by @btsracket | s

- dressing room quickie, unprotected sex request, use of Plan b pill

57. possession by @bngtanah | s

- jungkook is your boyfriend, sometimes you have to remind him what that means.

58. puffs and touches by @mintseesaw | f s

- “Stop doing that with your face, someone else is going to snatch you up”

59. the quiet things by @btsracket | s

- sleeping bag sex.

60. good boy by @ephemeralkookie | s

- secret, read to find out AHAHAHHA.

61. make it right by @jungkxook | a s

- you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

62. it takes two by @junghelioseok | s

- struggling with the idea of your ex-boyfriend moving on, you enlist the help of your quiet roommate in a scheme that quickly spirals out of control.

jimin

1. picking petals by @cutechim | s

- you asked for a baby, so a baby is what you’re going to get.

taehyung

1. daddy by @btsracket | f s

- there’s only one choice when this happens on a date out.

2. love me or we both go down by @gukyi | f s a

- after going through with an arranged marriage to please his parents and secure his inheritance of the family business, kim taehyung thinks he’s got it all figured out. he doesn’t. apparently just being married to you isn’t enough, not when everybody and their mother can pick up on the fact that the two of you absolutely loathe each other. but taehyung wants his inheritance one way or another, so he decides that desperate times call for desperate measures: the two of you need to fall in love, and you need to fall in love fast.

3. saudade by @jiminssthetic | a s f

- a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it’s time to find out why.

4. ineffable by @99liners | f

- boyfriend taehyung takes care of his sick s/o.

5. tease by @caiuscassiuss | s

- you knew you were hot. you saw how the guys looked at you, how their eyes were drawn to a tight t-shirt or short skirt. and maybe this would fail epically—crash and burn like a failed experiment—but you wanted to get under kim taehyung’s skin the only way you knew how.

6. aquarium by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // a

got7

yugyeom

1. yugyeom as you boyfriend by @sunshinekookie | f

- i need more yugyeom fics in my life.

astro

eunwoo

1. rainy say saviour by @imsarahbum | f a

- upon seeing you getting bullied after school for being short, dongmin can’t help but step in and defend you - despite both of you not really knowing anything about each other.

anyway, thank you again for the writers please take care and be safe!

please free to recommend your favorite fic that i haven’t feature yet.

if the links won’t work and i labelled some fics wrong please let me know and i’ll try to fix it as soon as possible!

support the fic and the writers!

1K notes · View notes

heejojo · 3 years ago

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Love Isn't Beautiful But With You It Was

✰ summary: y/n and niki's journey from being enemies to friends to much more than that.

✰ pairing: Niki x fem!reader (and a Jay apperance)

✰ genre: fluff, angst, enemies to childhood friends to lovers

✰ warning: a few sad scenes but I'm not sure they'll be too bad! death

✰ word count: 1.8k (the most so far tbh)

a/n: this is my first fanfic so please leave comments about what should be improved. if you have any requests feel free to leave them! it's past 12am now and I need to sleep but I hope you have a nice day!

prompt gotten from @moonlight-chi77 thank you!

“Love isn’t beautiful but with you it was”

Life disappears in the blink of an eye, but the memories created and the human connection formed does not. The memories created are embedded in our hearts and follow us through different paths of life. Whether those memories are good or bad, they become something we reflect on in later moments.

Nishimura Riki couldn’t exactly remember the first time he met you but all he knew was that he had never hit off with someone the way he did with you.

September 2012

Although Niki couldn't pinpoint the exact date you guys started talking, he knew it was in September of 2012. He knew at first he disliked you and wanted nothing to do with you because you had stolen his spot on the swings.

“That's my spot, I told Jay I was going to stay here forever,” he said while his friend who was behind him nodded enthusiastically, backing him up.

“Your name is not on it and you didn’t buy it so why should I leave?” you asked him without coming down because you got there fair and square.

“I called dibs on it,” he said while puffing out his chest.

“Dibs are for babies,” you say while continuing to swing. “I’m not a baby,” he retorts.

“If you say so, then why are you wearing a Talking Tom T-Shirt?” you ask and his face begins to turn red. “It's cool, isn't it Jay?” he nudges his friend asking him for support. “Cool man, girls just suck” Jay responds and they both leave. “At least I dress myself!” you yell at their retreating figures

After that day, Niki made it his mission to disturb you every day and never wore his Talking Tom shirt again after that day.

August 2016

“Niki!!” you screamed as you felt another water balloon hit your leg. At this point, your entire body was soaked. The young boy continued to laugh and run as you chased him. You were beginning to regret spending your summer break with him when you could be watching TV instead. Eventually, you give up chasing the blond-haired boy and go into the house to dry off. Thirty minutes later, Niki comes in with a bottle of orange juice as a form of apology. You snatch it without further thought and drink it. Looking up at him after you finish drinking it, you both burst into a fit of laughter. “You’re lucky I love food,” you say. Maybe spending the summer with him wouldn't be so bad.

December 2018

Your crush on Niki was painfully obvious to everyone but him. Your friends teased you, his friends teased you yet when you were together you denied it with so much vigour. Niki had liked you for a few months now. Everyone was enjoying the slow burn that was going on between the two of you; the soft glances across the room, the way you always looked for each other among crowds, the way he knew where your secret birthmark was even though your close friends didn’t.

It was the way you complimented each other that made everyone cringe and aw at the same time. The jacket you got him for his birthday was his most prized piece of clothing and the only person he let touch it was his mum. This year though, you gathered enough courage and told him how he meant to you and how you were content with being just friends even if it hurt a little. But you weren’t expecting Niki to say he felt the same way, even more so. Your friends heaved a sigh of relief and choruses of ‘Finally’ were echoed.

It felt good being with someone.

January 2019

Everyone argued with people they loved right? Your parents did, the old lady that sells fruit and her boyfriend did so you and Niki weren’t an exception. After being childhood friends for so long you’d think you could trust each other enough to talk about the things that bothered you but he refused to, claiming that he didn’t want you to see him in a different light and how it would hurt his pride. You would tell him that no one knew him more and cared about him the way you did. At times, you’d let it go not wanting to push him but that day you couldn’t take it.

“We need to talk. Why have you been avoiding me these past few days?” you asked him.

“I’ve just been busy” he replied.

“No, you’ve been avoiding me. I know you well enough to know when you're hiding something” you said.

He wouldn't budge, he never did especially when you cornered him like this. He started to get irritated and said, “I said I’ve been busy so forgive me if I can’t give you attention all the time. Not all of us are as clingy as you” You winced; it was your fault for pushing him to the edge like that. Nevertheless, you wouldn't give up. “ I just want you to say how you feel and what bothers you. I’d never look at you in a different light and you know that. You might want to be strong but it’s okay to show some sort of emotion, it doesn’t make you weak rather it makes you look like someone that acknowledges what is wrong and doesn’t try to ignore the problem or solve it on their own” you comforted him. As the words entered his ears, you could see the walls surrounding his heart crumbling. “It’s okay to ask for help or just to rant to someone. Even if we won’t be able to provide an immediate solution, it should help” you added taking a few steps forward and grabbing a hold of his hands. You squeezed them tightly.

“I...I’m just scared you’ll leave once you see the not so perfect side of me” he managed to say. “I will stay with you, why don’t we make the best of everything without worrying about the future?” you asked while smiling. He returned it and pulled you in for a hug. “Thank you, truly,” he said and you smiled under his embrace.

After a few minutes you spoke up, “Oh yeah, Niki?” you called his attention and he hummed in response. “Don’t ever shout at me like that again, I can deck you and you know it” you said.

“Got it, boss. Sorry for being a jerk”

June 2020

You usually went on diets and exercised a lot but you were losing weight at an extreme rate and you weren’t even on a diet. Niki was worried but you brushed it off telling him it was stress from school but it got worse. You found it difficult for you to balance yourself, you felt nauseated, getting even more frequent headaches and being tired all the time so Niki decided that enough was enough and took you to the hospital. Neither of you had expected the result of the scans that were run.

“I’m sorry but there is a tumour in your brain,” the doctor said. The air left your lungs. “You can choose to get the surgery and live in the hospital for 8 months or live with the tumour for 3 months” he continued. You thanked him and left the hospital. The elephant in the room was very much alive and neither one of you wanted to address it. Did you want to stay in the hospital for the rest of your life or did you want to say with your loved ones? You thought that they would go through and that won’t be worth it.

“Niki” you called out.

He looked at you with a sad smile and just pulled you in for a hug, careful not to hurt you. “Do you want to tell your parents?” You nodded. You couldn’t just leave without saying anything. Picking your jacket, Niki drove you to your parents house.

“I just wanted you guys to know, I couldn’t just leave without saying anything,” you said with your eyes cast downwards. You couldn’t bear to look at your mom who was already crying or your dad who was blaming himself even when it wasn’t his fault or your sister who was basically your best friend. Niki had given you guys privacy but you knew it was just an excuse for him to be with his own feelings.

“I’m going to stay close to home in the meantime so I can be closer to you guys,” you said. Your eyes were already becoming glossy with tears. You inched towards your mom, taking her hand in yours and said, “You did an amazing job of being my mom and I love you so much”. Moving to your dad, you said “You did a good job of protecting me so don’t think otherwise. Let’s make all the memories we want to now without any regrets”. At that, your sister burst into tears “I… I can’t bear to lose you” Your heart clenched. “I can’t bear to lose you too” She continued crying. Your mom wiped her eyes and said, “From today, live the way you want to. Eat what you want and do what you want.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Niki staring watching the whole scene. After an hour, I stood up and went home with Niki. The car ride was a long and awkward one. When we got home, we just slept hugging each other.

Starting tomorrow I was going to live.

July 2020

The pain is getting worse but the smiles on my family and friends faces are enough to keep me going. I wrote letters and got gifts for them. Niki looks at the calendar every day, I can’t tell him to stop because I can tell he’s hurting so much. Why can’t I just be okay for everyone?

August 2020

The time comes faster, Niki and I went on a getaway for a few days. He deserved a break from everything that has been going on.

September 2020

I never thought I'd die as silly as that sounds. I asked my parents and sister to leave when I got to the hospital. Niki refused to leave and stayed there till I took in my last breath. He kept crying begging me not to go and how he’d do anything.

“Does it hurt a lot?” he asked between sniffles

“No it doesn’t, it just feels like a needle” it hurt like a truck.

“Liar”

I chuckled and held his hand till I couldn’t anymore. “I love you’’ I say as the lights fade.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

Dear Nishimura Riki,

When you see this, it means I’m already gone. First of all, don’t beat yourself up too much. I could write for ages about how much I love you but now that I need to, my mind goes blank. You’ve done so well for putting up with me, hats off to you. You might not want to but move on, even though id like you to remember me; let your heart heal and be happy.

Take care of yourself and don’t skip any meals. Eat well and be happy, make sure you visit the places we never got to visit and enjoy yourself. Live life the way you want it every day. Be nice to people and smile more.

Thank you for all the happy memories, my love, I’ll be forever grateful for you. You made my life colourful and worth living.

Love isn’t beautiful but with you it was.

Yours truly,

Y/N.

#enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #character death #enhypen fluff

120 notes · View notes

hinaaspanda · 4 years ago

Text

scrawny | pjs

Pairing: Bad Boy! Jisung x Chilhood Besfriend! Reader

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, a lot of beating people up, **TW: minor instance of sexual battery, stops really early on**

Genre: Angst, some hints of fluff?

Word Count: 10,805 whoops

It was expected that guilt etched itself into your heart. You were the reason Park Jisung was so beaten up, after all. You always were.

inspired by the song Scrawny by the Wallows!

a/n; I apologize if the contents of this fic personally harm you in anyway; I really never meant to hurt anyone, I just wanted to write a more mature-themed fic.

08 . 07 . 12

“You can’t beat me! I’m older and stronger than you, Sungie!” The high pitched voice of your prideful older brother irked your ears as you timidly picked on the weeds below your crouched knees. His hollers, coupled with laughs from his twin always ruined the calmness the breeze brought you. Your eyes glance towards the poor boy on the receiving end of the torture, none other than the boy next door, Park Jisung. You huffed out a sympathetic sigh. No matter how annoying your brothers get, that poor kid just a few feet away from you always had it worse.

Donghyuck, your first older brother, started at the neighbourhood weakling first. His fist hurled towards Jisung’s lower waist before the second member of this cursed partnership, Jeno, trapped the poor kid’s skull in a headlock. Jisungs figure plummeted into the grass, his small fists punching the air as he failed to fight back. Donghyuck belts out another one of his ear shattering howls before turning to your once peaceful frame.

“Y/N! LOOK! WE BEAT JISUNG AGAIN!”

Your hands find themselves tugging at the grass a little harder than you wanted to, the green residue staining your palms once you finally let go. You were almost at your limit with Donghyuck and Jeno, the two buttheads you had to call family. You had enough of it all. You stomp towards your brothers as rays of irritation emitted from you.

“You two are so annoying sometimes! Can’t you just stay put and be quiet for ONCE?” you pleaded, your demanding voice throwing everyone at the park off, especially your two brothers. After all, you were always quiet, always patient with them. They watched fearfully as you gestured towards the poor Jisung lying limp on the grass, bloody bruises and scars covering up his once innocent skin. The air froze still as everyone on the playground waited for your next words. “And please stop hurting Jisung already! He’s younger than you, it’s not fair!”

Jisung winced at your words. He knew you'd say that he wasn’t strong enough. He rubs the fresh scab on his knee, his eyes concentrating on the drops of blood dripping down from it, in the hopes of distracting himself from his own confusing feelings. He knew he was weak, more than anyone else on this playground. But hearing it from you hurt just a little bit more.

The air between the four of you grew silent, the only thing making any noise was the wrestling leaves caught in the spring breeze. In any other occasion, you would have taken your time to relish this moment, but now you had your dumb, older brothers to take care of. You scan their seemingly scared figures before Donghyuck once again lets out an aggravating chuckle.

“You can’t talk to us like that!!” Donghyuck suddenly gave you a stern look, slightly shaking his head in disappointment, as Jeno stepped beside him. “You better watch your mouth, y/n. We’re older than you, remember?”

Fear shot down your spine. What were you thinking? You’d practically be dead meat once your mom finds out you yelled at them! You sealed your eyes as you braced for impact, impact of your brothers lecturing fists breaking your frame. Impact that, also, never seemed to actually occur. Slowly your eyes opened, revealing something jaw dropping.

Jisung’s back faced you, his stance showing an essence of power his 10 year old figure never showed before. His hands, already bruised and crumpled into fists, lowered themselves to his side as your older brothers both took their turn laying defeated on the beat up grass. Groaning in pain, Donghyuck cuddled his newly injured torso, while Jeno soothed his side with the back of his palm.

“Don’t talk to y/n like that, Donghyuck.” Jisung boomed, his eyes never leaving the sight of the two conquered 12 year olds still drowning in pain.

Later that night, you watched as all three boys sunk into an endless night of lectures about not getting into fights, a night you were luckily allowed to skip. Your mind runs back to that earth shattering scene, your brothers lying below the neighborhood weakling, his stance more powerful than those of superheros. You watched Jisung trot home from your bedroom window

Maybe Park Jisung isn’t so weak after all.

...

05 . 16 . 15

“Zhong Chenle, If you make us late to class ONE MORE TIME I swear I will hurt you.” You threaten your new neighbour on the phone. You rubbed your temples with the nimble pads of your fingers, knowing full well Chenle hasn’t even brushed his teeth yet.

“Hold on! I’m almost ready, just give me like five more minutes!”

“You said that ten minutes ago!”

“I mean it this time! I swear!”

“Just hurry up, ok?” You pleaded before cutting the call. As you hastily shoved your phone into your jacket pocket, a disheveled Chenle emerged from his front door, the piece of toast hanging from his lips reminiscent of those anime girls Donghyuck always drooled over.

You could still remember the day Chenle came into your life, taking over the vacant house beside yours. His bubbly, cheerful demeanour taking over your entire summer with all these trips to the basketball court and raids at the neighbourhood convenience store. In your eyes, he was the perfect addition to your neighbourhood friend group, which at that point in your life, only consisted of you and the neighborhood scrawny boy, Park Jisung. Well, that’s what you thought at least.

As the days diverted from bright and sunny, to cold and frigid, and as the three of you grew more overwhelmed with middle school, Jisung grew more and more distant. As for the reason? Well, you wanted to know more than anyone, but that puzzle was harder to crack than any of your grade 7 homework. These days, it was so rare to see his face, you almost forgot he shared a class with you, or still resided six steps beside your house.

“When do you think Jisung’s gonna hang out with us again?” Chenle’s abrupt voice awoke you from your sorrowful slumber. Your head sinks down, your eyes watching your feet on the subway floor. “I don’t know, Chenle.”

Your ears couldn’t help but drown out your teacher’s voice as they taught today’s lesson. You had other things to worry about, anyways. Like what you were going to eat today, or how your hair looked tied up like how it is now. But more importantly, what was going through his mind from across the classroom. It wasn’t long before the bell finally rang, signaling the student’s freedom. Your exhausted eyes watched as the herd of teenagers crowded the exit, leaving three figures inside and all alone; you, Chenle, and Jisung.

From the corner of your eye, you watch Chenle slumps his bag over his shoulders as he, with overflowing panic, shuffled towards the brooding teenager, who looked like he was just staring at you a minute ago. Off to the side, you prayed for Chenle’s success. Or more accurately, his safety.

“H-hey Jisung, do you wanna, uh, walk home with us?”

Jisung pondered for a little bit, then continued.

“...us?”

“Yeah, me and y/n.” Chenle raised a palm in your direction while Jisung’s eyes followed almost instantly. All while you tried your best to hide the fact you were watching all of this go down.

You sensed a shift in Jisungs mood just then, going from simply tired and wanting to head home already, to… anger? Why would he be angry?

“No thanks, you guys can go ahead”

Jisung shot up from his desks, various chairs and classroom furniture shivering in fear. Jisung winced at those words. The same sting he felt all those years ago at the playground with Donghyuck and Jeno, ripped through his chest. But it wasn’t like he was being called weak, or that he needed to prove his worth. No, it was simply that you were with someone else. Not with him. “But we all live on the same street.”

“I’m fine, Chenle”

“Come on, man-”

Suddenly, Jisung whipped around, facing the innocent transfer student. He shot him one last glare before sending his figure to the ground with his fist, faster than the bullet train that provided you a ride to school this morning. Chenle let out a howl of pain as you bounced out of your seat, coming to his aid. Jisung watches as you hold Chenle’s body close, closer than he would’ve liked, before sending you a glare as well.

“Stay away from y/n” He huffed before trekking away from the scene of his own crime. You follow closely behind, the zipper of your bag opening wider as you drag it along.

“Jisung!” You cry, your eyes scanning the halls for your neighbor, your neighbor that was always full of surprises. You finally find him slowly making his way towards the school doors before he stops, turning around to face you.

You never really noticed how much he grew over these few years. Now, his figure was taller, much taller than yours ever could be, easily towering over your small frame. His shoulders were broader, he looked meaner. This wasn’t your scrawny neighbourhood friend any more.

“What?” He muttered, his face noticeably softer now that Chenle was out of his sight. His fingers gripped the strap of his bag as he stared you down, watching you fumble with your own words. He would rather die than admit it, but you looked cute, all nervous like that.

“Why’d you hit Chenle?”

“I-” Now he was the stuttering mess. “I don’t know”

He paused, his suddenly guilty eyes meeting yours. “I didn’t like him being with you.”

You could almost laugh in disbelief. Was he being serious? Your head cocks to the side while your arms cross into themselves. “Jisung, please”

Jisung held his head down, knowing full well of how lame he was right now. Your eyes however, tried finding his again. Reassurance etched in each of your pupils as you lightly nudged his shoulder.

“Don’t worry Jisung, I’m not gonna leave you.”

His frame brightened up instantaneously as you watched him practically jump for joy at your words. So after all those years, Jisung was still a big softie, huh?

“Now, go apologize to Chenle and let’s all go home together, ok?” You spun around, back to the classroom. Jisung swiftly trailed behind you. Of course he didn’t think twice about his apology. Sure, his pride was at stake, but for you? Park Jisung would do anything.

...

04 . 10 . 17

“Get off me, you freak!” The pinned down middle schooler scowled under the grasp of Jisung’s bloodied knuckles. He gasped for air as Jisung clamped his hands down in a chokehold. Jisung tired his best to shoot him a mean glare through his bruised and blackened eye.

“Don’t you dare touch y/n like that, got it?” He growled, his eyes never leaving the sight of the suffering student. Jisung watched as he desperately pried himself away from Jisung’s grasp. He deserved this, though. That moron had zero right grazing his against your thigh. Especially not on his watch.

“It was an accident!” The student dizzily coughed out, his neck still trapped between Jisungs strong palms. “I won’t do it again, alright? Just let me go already!!”

Like the parting of the red sea, Jisung’s palms subsided from the student’s neck, finally setting him free. The student collapsed to the ground, hissing in pain before sending Jisung a dirty look. The various students that once crowded around the scene rushed away to the sounds of an irritated teacher, leaving an awestruck Chenle, a damaged Jisung, and your guilt ridden self behind in the third year hallway. It was expected that guilt etched itself into your heart. You were the reason Park Jisung was always so beaten up, after all. You always were.

Your sorrowful frame couldn’t muster up the courage to spit out a cohesive sentence before the P.A. system blasted through your ears. The next words that deadpan, robotic voice would utter were terribly easy to predict.

“Park Jisung to the principal’s office, please. Park Jisung to the principal’s office. Thank you.”

“Ow! That stings!” Jisung seethed, his hands, newly patched the moment you retired home for the night, digging into your teddy bear’s flesh as you applied the medicine to his wounded cheekbone. You scoffed beside him, picking up more medicine with the q-tip in your hand. “Well, it wouldn’t have to sting if you didn’t beat up that kid in the first place!”

“He touched you weirdly!” He groaned in pain as you plopped another layer of that ice cold medicine he hated.

“It was an accident! And he apologized before you choked him to near-death!” You shot back, your grip on the q-tip growing tighter. A sensation you noticed only happened whenever emotions overflowed in your heart. The pads of your fingertips gently spread a bandaid over his callous skin as the air in your bedroom grew tense. Your chest pushed out a heaving sigh. “I’m sorry, y/n.”

“I can take care of myself, Jisung.” You glanced down, cleaning up the mess from your first-aid kit. “So please, stop hurting yourself for me. I hate seeing you all beat up like this, Sungie.”

Sungie. Sungie. It sent butterflies to his stomach. That simple childish nickname, pulling him back to that playground. The start of his fighting career. He didn’t care if that was some random nickname from Donghyuck. It sounded better when you said it. Much, much better.

Jisung awoke from his daze as he felt a pair of lips softly graze his newly mended cheek. His head whipped fast to face you, but barely catching up to the record breaking speed of his ears turning pink. With his cheeks soon following after. His eyes, wider than any body of ocean found on this planet, flusteredly stared you down with only one question in mind. What. Was. That.

You held your clumsy eye contact as you leaned away from your rushed, but sweet, kiss. “Please?” You barely let out in a whisper. Jisung let out a soft grin, his hand hesitantly brushing yours.

“Alright.”

You once again watched Jisung trek the four steps to his front door before freefalling onto your bed, a full on, red-cheeked, flustered mess. Lee y/n, what the hell is wrong with you.

...

07 . 23 . 17

The ice cream melting at such a rapid pace underneath the scolding summer heat was the least of your and Chenle’s concerns. Not with the moving truck parked outside the house of your childhood neighbor and friend?, Park Jisung. After sending flabbergasted looks to each other, the two of you bolted to the front door, disregarding any need of cleaning up after yourselves.

You couldn’t keep still as Chenle banged his fist on the door. Was he moving out? You thought back to this summer. The countless nights the three of you would relish in each other’s company, whether it would be just resting on one of your beds, scrolling through your phones, or at the playground, taking turns on the ancient swings. You smiled to yourself, remembering how Jisung would never swing himself, opting to just push you instead. Would you ever see him again? Your heart cracked open just a little bit at that last thought. The possibility of him leaving you? It hurt more than any punch or chokehold could.

Suddenly, the tired figure of Jaemin, Jisung’s level-headed older brother, emerged. His irritated expression contrasting his welcoming gestures as he allowed the two of you inside without saying a word. And while you had nothing against Jaemin, you really wanted to see Jisung. That boy had some explaining to do.

“Boarding school!? Overseas!?” You and Chenle collectively yelp in surprise, the lemonade Jaemin generously provided you quivering in response.

“Yeah, our parents thought it was a good way to calm him down, get rid of that fighting habit he got over the years.” Jaemin informed. “He left yesterday, didn’t he tell you?”

Your lip bled as you bit into its flesh. No, he didn’t tell you. But you had a strong gut feeling you were the very reason for that hiatus he was taking from your life. You couldn’t help but lock yourself in your bedroom for the rest of the night, against poor Chenle’s wishes. All of it, everything was your fault. Park Jisung wasn’t the weakling, now. You were.

...

03 . 18 . 19

The azure sky looked almost haunted at night. Chills raged through your spine as you, and an exhausted Chenle, shuffled your way home. Your plastic bag of trophies, commemorating another shop raid, hung loosely from your fingertips. Your figure gravitated towards the worn out playground bench as Chenle let out another ear piercing yawn. You were glad he didn’t retire to his own home just yet, though. You enjoyed his company.

“God! My brother’s stuff was such a pain to lug around!” Chenle screeched, soothing his lower back with his palm as you opened one of the few soft drinks you earned from the convenience shop. “Why’d he have’ta move out for college now?”

“It’s not like he had a choice, you know.” you fought. “School does start back up tomorrow.”

“Don’t start with that now, y/n.” Chenle enveloped his forehead in his hands in a petrified manner, as you tried your best to stifle your laughter away. “uGH! SCHOOL’S SUCH A PAIN!!”

You took another sip of your ice cold drink, the can so frozen, it felt hot against your skin. You, however, didn’t really hate the idea of highschool starting up again. You weren’t some measly, small first year anymore. You actually had friends now. But of course, it was a good distraction from the 2 year childhood-neighbour-sized hole in your heart.

“You’re still thinking about him, huh?” Chenle leaned on the opposing side of the wooden park bench, taking a monstrous bite of the chocolate bar he threw aside his 2 dollars for. You sent him a stare, one conveying an emotion even you couldn’t pinpoint. “You already know what I’m gonna say, Chenle.”

Chenle let out a light scoff before softly tapping the exposed skin of your forehead with his knuckles. You squirm, interrupting the calmness that was sipping your drink. You hated that out of all the habits Chenle could have developed, flicking your forehead was one of them. “Don’t worry! All you need to do is distract yourself, and I bet you’ll find one once school starts!”

You tilted your head up to the stars, your eyes shifting to the left as they gazed upon a familiar set of navy window curtains. While Chenle’s harmless habit did nudge you a bit, your own habit of missing Park Jisung, was more detrimental to you than any weak forehead flick could be.

...

“We have a new student today…” The monotonous voice of your newly appointed teacher for the year already blew your ears dry with boredom as your eyes dug through every corner and crevice of this bland classroom for a way to keep you awake. But you deserved some slack to be cut in your favour. It was 9 am in the morning, you would rather be anywhere else but here at the moment. Your eyes were about to roll back in pure exhaustion as your teacher gestured towards the classroom door.

As if on cue, a towering figure sauntered in, woahs and gasps bouncing on the beige walls. You could feel Chenle’s stupefied look burning through the nape of your neck, but you were too trapped in your shock to give him a reciprocating stare. Not with him right in the center of your view.

His uniform wasn’t remotely set on his frame correctly. The paper-like school blouse, which was supposed to be fully buttoned, was opened up, exposing a black graphic t-shirt splattered with text you never considered to be school-appropriate. In place of the faded-plaid, beige trousers that coupled with your uniform, tight black jeans hugged his legs, the gaping rips showcasing old and newer bruises and scars. A small chain hugged his left hip as your teacher once again gestured to the center

“Everyone, please welcome, Park Jisung!”

You knew you were just scanning and processing his appearance like two seconds ago. But finally having that name rip through your ears, you could almost explode from the overwhelmness.

God, can I just pass away now?

...

“Y/n, I won’t ever leave you again.” Jisung’s husky voice brushed through your ears softly, as he cradled your frame, your faces just centimeters apart. His eyes, with all the stars in the sky trapped inside, gave you a look of sincerity you haven’t properly felt in such a long time. He scooped your hair behind your ear before letting out another heart fluttering whisper.

“Be with me, y/n. Let’s run away together, hm?”

“Y/n? Y/N!” The dolphin-esque hollers of Zhong Chenle, combined with the faded ruckus of your school’s cafeteria, jolted you awake from your fantasy as cheap bronze tinted soft drink catapulted itself into the innocence of your white school uniform. Snorts and giggles filled the chests of your friends, especially Chenle’s, as he skipped away to get you a paper towel.

“You seem so out of it.” The voice of a concerned Sungchan your一classmate and resident caretaker一notices, handing you the towel Chenle oh so urgently retrieved.

“When am I ever in it?” you scowled as you began destroying the fabric with the white cloth. It earned a sweet chuckle as Sungchan discreetly slid the bottle of pop away from your grasp, avoiding another image-wrecking incident. He shined a refreshing grin in your direction as Chenle bounced back onto the lunch table.

“She was probably just bein’ emo about Jisung again, leave her be, Sungchan.” Chenle leaned in to inspect your once again dazed figure, the clicks of his judging tongue just pissing you off a little more than it usually did. “Weren’t you, y/n?”

Of course you were, you always were.

“Park Jisung? The new kid? He was an asshole to her, she's allowed to be mad, right?” The other new addition to this weird clique (and your saving grace), Shotaro, chimed in.

Chenle let out another snort, his knowing eyes now glaring at yours. “You would think so, Sho, you would think so.”

“Okay. But he still outright ignored her, right? That’s still a pretty bad move” Shotaro rebutted. Chenle’s eyes went from devious to anxious in a heartbeat as the air around you grew silent.

Yes, Park Jisung一your friend and neighbour for almost all of your life, did indeed ignore you after two whole years of little to no contact. And yes, you were bitter about it. Hell, it broke your heart, smashed it into pieces better than any one of his anger filled punches could. The way his eyes never fully reached yours, his cold, irritated expression. His back turned away from you, this time in an effort to hurt you.

Although, he shouldn’t have this effect on you. For two years, you were deprived of his dangerous yet heartwarming company. You were left alone, ignored via text, forgotten. You could handle this. You watched as he shuffled past your table silently, earning gasps from the audience of students as the delinquent character he recently shifted into. You could handle leaving Jisung. Right?

“I know what could get your mind off that asshole!” Sungchan suddenly chirped beside you, earning the eyes of a curious Shotaro and a confused Chenle. You however, tuned in as fast as humanly possible, praying for any decent distraction you could get.

“Let’s go on a date.”

Jisung couldn’t pry his eyes off your figure, glistening under the afternoon sun that peeked through the cafeteria windows. Your attention, laid on anything else but him as you chatted away with your new friends. He stabbed the stale food with the flimsy plastic fork as he watched you, from the other side of the room, let out your signature laugh; a window-wiper sounding chuckle that you always shielded with your hand. He hated that hand part, though, your smile was too pretty to hide.

Despite your upbeat demeanour, he knew you. Confused at his lack of connection, the barren text threads on your phone. He knew you were probably furious at him right now, for not even sparing her a glance throughout class. And despite how much he just wishes to just stomp on over to you, pick up your precious frame, and kiss you right then, he couldn’t.

He scans his morning old text threads, finding any way to distract himself from the fanservice playing in his thoughts. He clicks the most recent thread, a thread that only made him regret his decision to pick up his phone ever.

Jaem Bro [8:46am]: have fun at school :)

Jaem Bro [8:46am]: remember what mom said, too. don’t talk to y/n

Jaem Bro [8:47am]: she’ll only bring back your bad habits

Jisung scowls as he shoves his phone away.

Piss off, Jaemin.

...

“I had fun today.” Sungchan hummed as he practically skipped beside you that Saturday night. His towering figure shielded you from the glaring light of the street lamp as you softly hummed a response. “Yeah, I had fun too.”

Of course you weren’t lying. All in all, you truly did have a good time on your date. Sungchan kept his promise, all while enjoying kittens at a cat cafe, demolishing your self esteem at the arcade, and even feeding you food you never thought a 17 year old could afford. For the whole day, it felt like that Jisung-shaped hole in your heart was filled, simply retiring into an afterthought. And that would be true, if you hadn’t passed by an all too familiar bedroom as you walked home that night.

It was an all too familiar feeling, the clenching of your heart as you gazed upon those curtains. His bed, which was also in view, sending you memories of patching that clumsy boy up almost every day. It all washed back to you. Sungchan suddenly nudged your side, waking you up from your cursed thought train. But after seeing what he saw, all you could do was yearn to return back to your dreamland.

To say that Jisung’s eyes simply widened at the sight of you, grinning sweetly at another guy, would be a definite understatement. He came so close to dropping his newly opened soda can as a series of texts shifted into his mind

Don’t talk to y/n, she’ll only bring back your bad habits.

Jisung clenches his jaw watching you giggle at that asshole’s (presumably bad) joke. Maybe Jaemin was right. Maybe he shouldn’t talk to you anymore. You clearly didn’t need him now.

“Jisung?” You yelped, stunned. Jisung watched you slowly inch back closer to that beanpole. He felt his limbs being pulled back into his fighting habits, jealousy burning through his lips. His hands, still off to his sides, balling up into fists. Someone was gonna get hurt tonight.

“Were you guys on a date?”

“We-”

“Yeah, we were'' Sungchan cut in, his arm shielding you from Park Jisung’s wrath. “Got a problem with that, buddy?”

Steam puffed from Jisung’s ears as he stalked towards Sungchan. “You got some nerve talking to me like that, buddy” Jisung hissed. He was at his limit. He gave Sungchan one last nasty look. Target: Acquired. Except, with the last two years of zero practice under his belt, his aim wasn’t exactly good. It was horrible, actually.

It all happened too fast for you, one second you were safely guarded by Sungchan’s shoulder. The next? Lying limp at the mercy of Jisung’s hatred-filled fist. His knuckles jabbing deep into the crevice of your cheekbone. Deep down, you knew it was probably just an accident. But your heart didn’t listen to you. It never did.

“Ji-” You could barely muster through your own tears. You wanted to scream from the pain. But not just the physical pain.

Jisung stood frozen before your defeated figure. Shit. What the hell was wrong with him. All he wanted was to knock out that asshole for a little bit.

“I-” Jisung stammered

“Forget it, Jisung. Quit being an asshole and leave me alone!” You spat out those last few words a little louder than you intended to as you wobbled up, storming away. Away from him, away from Sungchan and your own home. You didn’t care how far you’d go. You didn't care about the sudden rainfall pouring on you. Your mind just told you one thing and one thing only. Run

I hate you so much, Park Jisung.

Jisung waited for the sky to dress into its daily midnight attire before finally ducking into the comfort of his own home. He was overwhelmed, to say the least. Pissed, definitely, with that Sungchan asshole just existing around you. Tired, for staying out till 1 in the morning again. But mostly guilt, for being the very reason your eyes weren’t completely dry that night. He knew he was gonna regress into his fighting habits soon enough, but never like this. His eyes glazed over his screen clicking on a familiar contact.

“You WHAT?” Chenle shocked what was left of Jisung’s poor eardrum as he gawked in full astonishment. Jisung couldn’t see Chenle’s face, but he knew for a fact it was scrunching up in confusion. Jisung watched the still streetlight from his bedroom window, guilt still welling up in him. “Man, what am I gonna do?”

“Oh, I don’t know? Apologize?”

“How am I gonna do it? She’s not gonna wanna talk to me after this! I’m screwed!” Chenle grew silent on the other line, his brain striking an idea harder than the sudden rain pour. “That’s it! Sung, what’s y/n’s favorite thing to buy at the shop? The one down our street?”

Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed. “...She likes their ramen a lot, but what’s that got to do with any of this?”

“Meet me at the shop tomorrow morning. I know how to fix this.”

...

“SUNGIEEE!” Donghyuck shrieked, throwing Jisung off of his caution-filled thought process as the front door blew wide open. Although, it wasn’t much of a thought process, but rather just the repeated question of What the hell am I doing here, and you, of course. But no matter, you were always running through his mind anyways. Donghyuck pulled Jisung into a tight, brotherly hug. “Where have ya been?? I missed you!”

Jisung shined a bogus smile at his childhood bully. This better fucking work, Zhong Chenle.

Jisungs legs drowned in a pool of hesitance as he shuffled into your home, his ears shielding the irritable rambles of Lee Donghyuck, one half of the annoying Lee Twins duo. He didn’t care if he hadn't seen Donghyuck’s face in over two years, the only thing he searched for was you.

“You’re here for y/n right? She got a cold from the rain last night, but I could probably let you in.” Donghyuck informed, as if he could read Jisung’s mind.

“You should hurry up and be our in-law soon, Sungie!” He nudged Jisung’s arm a few times, a mischievous grin suggesting that he either read into his mind a little too much, or that Jisung was just blatantly obvious about his feelings. He prayed that it wasn’t the latter. Another figure suddenly emerged from the kitchen, giving Donghyuck a nice, crisp slap on the nape of his neck.

“Oi, quit bein’ such a creep, will you?” Lee Jeno, the other, more down-to-earth half of the Lee twins, defied. “He’s 17, dumbass.”

Donghyuck jokingly wailed in pain, a habit he's kept since childhood, apparently. Jeno turned his attention to Jisung, a sympathetic stare shining in his eyes. At least he turned out half-way decent.

“Y/n’s upstairs if you need her, but uh-” Jeno scratches his head. “I don’t think she wants to see you, or anyone, really.”

“That’s fine,” Jisung’s eyes ducked to the bag of snacks hanging from his hand. “I’ll just drop these off and head out.”

“Don’t have too much fun, Sung-OW!” Donghyuck chirped, irking Jisung as he earned a slap on the shoulder from his twin. Thank god for Jeno.

Your aching head actually didn’t hurt that much, at least compared to the pain of your brooding heart. You watched a leaf fall to the ground from your bedroom window. The pain still piercing through your side, the guilt for leaving Sungchan behind at the playground, or the confusing monstrosity of Park Jisung, it all overtook you. Your measly little brain couldn’t handle it.

The creaking of the door wasn’t enough to spin you back to reality, but apparently, his cautious footsteps were. Your head snapped forward, your eyes meeting the view of his ripped jeans, and a plastic bag littered with snacks. Of course.

“Jisung?”

“H-hey”

You watched as Jisung stammered under his breath. He looked so nervous facing you, worlds more nervous than moment’s before one of his brawling sessions.

Jisung’s eyes kept rejecting yours as he fumbled with the plastic bag amidst his grasp. To be completely honest, Jisung was sure you wouldn’t even let him in, much less talk to him. Even if it was in such a cold manner. He shuffled towards her laying figure, his eyes still glued to the wall as he hands her the plastic bag.

“I, uh一no, my mom wanted me to give you this.” Jisung stuttered.

You dig through the bag, the only thing trapped within it bound to give you diabetes. You scoff. “Your mom wants me to eat instant noodles?”

Shit, right. That doesn’t make any sense.

“Ahaha, yea” Jisung trailed off, backing away from you before proceeding to brutally stab his elbow onto your door handle. Who’s dumb idea was it to name it the funny bone, anyways? Nothing about it was funny. He lets out a soft hiss after finally turning away from you. Well, maybe Jisung himself was, he was a clown, afterall.

“Wait.” You suddenly squeaked, making Jisungs' shoulders jerk up. Was she gonna-

“Come help me.” You handed him the cup noodles, wanting nothing but to laugh at his stupid, stupifyied face. You sniffled. “I can’t make noodles by myself like this, you idiot.”

“Oh, right.” Park Jisung, you absolute clown.

...

Out of all the situations you could get stuck in, the last one you expected was in your bedroom, trapped in an annoying cold whilst being fed instant noodles by your childhood neighbor, Park Jisung, three whole days after that incident. You watched as his plastic fork, etched in a tremble that had you thinking he was going to die that instant, hastily scooped the processed food before making its way to your mouth.

However, and you would rather die than admit it, but you missed this warm sensation. You missed the company Jisung provided, the way he would grow soft just for you, moments after beating up some stupid kid. The countless bandages you used in his favour as you patched him up almost every night. You missed it all. And despite having him back in your street, he never really came back to your life. It was all different now.

You watched him chuck the fork into the now empty noodle bowl, his next few actions sending you on the verge of cardiac arrest.

With a tissue in hand, Jisung suddenly leaned in, his eyes still veering away from yours as he wiped off some stain on your cheeks. There could have also been no stain at all, and this was just a ruse to get you flustered. Park Jisung has gotten good at playing with your heart lately. His chest was just centimeters apart from yours, any closer and your thumping heart would be completely exposed, not that your vermillion cheeks weren’t a dead give away already.

“A-am I too close?” Jisung barely whispered. Half of you wanted to say yes, while the other half wanted to pull him even closer. You couldn’t handle this anymore.

“Why are you here, Jisung?” You suddenly blurted out as you grabbed a hold of his gentle wrist. “And I know it wasn’t for some stupid noodles.”

Jisung’s chest caved in as he let out a sigh. “I, uh wanted to say sorry.”

Your mind flashes back to that night, the image of his fierce, cold eyes still sending shivers down your spine. Jisung continues, his eyes finally holding yours hostage. Here goes nothing.

“I'm sorry for punching you, for making you run away like that.” His guilt ridden eyes scan your bed-ridden frame. “All of this, it’s all my fault.” His eyes collected the stars that hid beneath the afternoon sky. “If you wanna stop talking to me after this, I understand. I’m not good enough for you.”

There goes your heart again, clenching at anything related to Park Jisung. You hated how he had that effect on you. Yet you also loved it. You let out a soft chuckle sending waves of hope to him. You could never really reject him, could you?

“You really are annoying, sometimes.” You gaze at him, a small grin lining your lips. “But, I don’t think I wanna stop talking to you just yet.” The way Jisung’s frame brightens up the same way it did all those years ago, didn’t fail to warm your heart. “I’ll forgive you, Park Jisung.”

Without thinking, Jisung pulls you into a gentle hug. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, Jisung softly smiled. No matter how many times Jaemin could nag him, Jisung could never stay away from you. His life was finally back to normal.

“Oh! one more thing!” You murmured. He smiled at you sweetly, giving you the signal to continue.

“Sungchan’s one of my good friend’s, so please, don’t try and beat him up? And maybe you could even hang out with Chenle and them at school! There’s some new guys there that I think you’d get along with great!” You suggested, your bright demeanour too strong for Jisung’s poor eyes. “Would you at least try? Promise?”

Jisung shrugged. I mean it wouldn’t hurt. He sends you another soft smile. “Yeah, I promise.”

...

“That’s why you ask for help, dumbass!” Shotaro barked at Chenle, who was currently slumped on the lunch table, brooding about his not so stellar math grade.

“You, good sir, have NO right to talk.” Chenle proudly clapped back. “Mr. ‘35% in english’.” Chenle heaves out an over-exaggerated sigh. “If only y/n was here today, she is the smart one.”

“Yeah, but it isn’t that hard being the smart one around you, Lele.” Jisung shielded Chenle’s incoming offended slap to the shoulder as he nibbled on the plastic straw drowning in his vending machine soft drink. It alarmed him how fast he mended with your friend group, even if it did just consist of that dolphin brat he’s known for years, and probably the sweetest guy he's ever come across, Shotaro. Then again, maybe he shouldn’t beat up every guy he comes across.

Jisung glances around the table, where only three chairs were actually occupied. Doesn’t that Sungchan guy hang out here?

“Where’s Sungchan?” Jisung drew in the attention of his new friend. Shotaro’s fingers tapped the plastic table. “It’s weird, he only hangs out with us sometimes, whenever he feels like it, I guess.” Whenever y/n’s around, you mean, Jisung corrected in his head.

“Or...” Chenle pitched in. “He didn’t wanna hang out with someone who was about to punch him.” Crap. He should probably apologize for that.

“Wait what?”

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it! Ahaha!” Jisung quickly cut off Shotaro, the fear of getting incredibly embarrassed riling through him. He hoisted the empty soda can in between his fingertips before standing up on his two feet. “I’ll, uh, get another one.”

Jisung couldn’t have felt more creepy than he did at that very moment, peeking through the heads of various students as he eyes Sungchan. His mind flashes a very cute image of you, smiling just as softly as you do both three days and two years ago. His breaths grew heavy. This was gonna be easy, just apologize to Sungchan and maybe become his friend, then y/n can really be happy. Jisung let out a deep sigh. For y/n.

He hesitantly sauntered towards the beanpole currently reaching for his newly paid drink at the vending machine. From the looks of it, this Sungchan guy couldn’t hear Jisung’s calls, making him yell louder. He could feel the stares of the confused highschool students burn through him. God, how annoying can this asshole get?

“Here to finish what you started, Park?” Sungchan suddenly sneered, his eyes narrowing nonchalantly at the Park in question. His laid back posture screaming 'you don't wanna mess with me.' Jisung raised an eyebrow, scanning Sungchan's current figure, which didn't match with his image from that night. Taken aback at the sudden mood shift, Jisung stuttered. “No, uh, I wanted to say sorry about that, actually.”

“Save it” Sungchan spat. His eyes fully locked in with Jisung’s before ripping them away at the last second. He encased a white box in his hand before pivoting on his heel. “I'm going for a smoke.”

Jisung eyes go wide. Who the hell is this guy? Sungchan didn’t spare the poor boy a glance before slipping through the school's only emergency exit. Various phrases, all containing the word ‘asshole’, ran through Jisung’s mind as he followed Sungchan, trying his best to remind himself that this was all for you.

The outdoor air brushed lightly against Jisung’s skin, coating him in a refreshing hug. With the pearly blue sky above him, and the lush green trees shading his face, he would’ve relished in the afternoon breeze. He would’ve, if it weren’t for the cigarette smoke overtaking him, all coming from that damn beanpole.

“What the hell do you want from me, Park” Sungchan hissed, a cloud escaping his lips before whipping around. “Are you here to make friends or some shit?” Jisung threw a hesitant nod at his direction.

“Look, Sungchan. Let’s just try to get along. For y/n’s sake. That's all she wants.” Jisung extended a hand to Sungchan, only to earn another annoying ass chuckle. “Why would I wanna do something like that for y/n?”

“Don’t you like her or whatever?”

“No, are you stupid?”

Jisung’s eyebrows stitched together in confusion. “Then why-”

“Isn’t it obvious, Park?” Sungchan, stenchy cigarette breath and all, leaned in. God, Jisung wanted to puke right in front of him. “She's hot. I want her.”

Jisung pondered for a few minutes, and honestly? He wished he never put two and two together. He couldn’t help but hiss under his breath as his hands balled up into their iconic fists. The random dates? The nice guy image? It was all for that? This bastard wanted to take your innocence away. And this bastard had the audacity to hurl another snicker at Jisung.

“You do know what I’m talking about, right?” Sungchan kissed his cigarette one last time before tossing it to the gravel, the poor paper feeling the wrath of his sneakers. “I wanna have sex-”

Jisung didn’t give him the chance to finish before crushing his gut between the school’s brick wall and his iron fist. Jisung leaned in, his eyes burning with a fury he hadn’t felt in nearly two years. “You’ll be dead before you get the chance to even touch her, got that?”

Sungchan let out a mighty growl of pain, bending away as Jisung reconnected his fist to Sungchan’s right cheek. The beanpole flew to the ground, red blood spewing from his nose. Jisung scoffed, standing tall with not a single scratch on his skin. For a little while, at least.

Suddenly, Sungchan flung himself back to his feet, his bruised fist upper-cutting Jisung’s jaw off its course before pinning him down to the stiff hard rock of the pavement. His hands pressed themselves onto each side of Jisung’s neck as the boy underneath gasped for air. Jisung’s fingers clamp onto Sunchan’s wrists, pulling for an escape as Sungchan spits out another irking laugh. “You’re not the only one who can put up a good fight, Park”

Jisung sounded off shallow breaths beneath Sungchan’s grasp. “Why would you...y/n…”

“I’m only human, Park. I got needs. And y/n? she was all depressed, just begging for the attention. It only made sense.”

Jisung sent a knee through Sungchans chest, rolling on top of him before staining Sungchan with punches all over his skin. Jisung’s fingers tense up around Sungchan's shirt collar as brings him closer, hissing at his leftover cigarette breath. “That doesn’t give you any damn right to fuck her.”

“Why do you care so much? Last time I checked, you left her without saying a word! Looks to me like you're the last person who she would care about.”

Those texts he left unopened abroad, the missed calls, the wanting stares you sent him on his first day back. It all washed back to Jisung like a typhoon. This bastard was right, he couldn’t protect you like this anymore, he didn’t have the right. He broke your heart over and over again. He was the last person you needed. But no. The bastard needed to be taught a lesson; don't ever mess with his girl.

“Cause I love her, and I won't let you have her.” Jisung suddenly blurted out, praying that the redness on his cheeks was simply blood. Sungchan let out a heaving chuckle. “Oh? Even more of a reason, then!”

Jisung hissed one final time before trapping Sungchan between his legs, throwing heavy punches left and right, staining his shirt, his fists, Sungchan’s face, and the ground with blood. Like a bomb moments before its explosion, there was no stopping him, he was trapped by his own haze of violence. The only thing pulling him back to reality were Shotaro’s arms as he and Chenle guided the two bruised bodies to the nurse’s office.

I’m sorry, y/n. I really am.

...

The image of a bloodied Sungchan, alongside an equally bloodied Jisung, was the last thing you wanted to wake up to from your hefty slumber. Your phone practically levitated from all the buzzing. People you faintly knew, and even some you didn’t, all came to you in utter fear. God, and to think you were on a break.

Y/N!! Sungchan and Jisung were fighting in the parking lot!

Y/N!! You need to come over here asap!!!

You need to control your boys y/n, someone could get seriously injured!!

You couldn’t help but laugh at that last hasty message. It’s too late to worry about someone getting injured. Especially if it’s Park Jisung in question. You glance at probably the only contact that hasn’t, well, contacted you. Your finger, laced with anger, clicks the screen. Park Jisung, you’ve got some explaining to do.

“You don’t understand!” Jisung’s mighty croak pounded through your phone speaker. However, your attention slowly began to drift away. It only made sense, that’s the fifth time he’s pulled that excuse in this call, alone. “That Sungchan guy is a complete asshole!!”

“You say that about every damn guy I talk to, Jisung!” You nagged, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head in disappointment. Some things just couldn’t change, could they?

“Y/n, I’m telling you!! He’s not as nice as you think he is!” You clenched your phone, agitation seeping through your teeth. Couldn’t he just listen to you for once? “He’s got bad motives, y/n, you don’t wanna hang around someone like him. There’s so many bad things he's hiding from you. The bastard smokes, fights regularly, too, and…”

You heaved out a deep sigh, your knuckles turning white from your angry grip on the bed sheet. First, he pulls the same damn excuses, and then he lies? You couldn’t take it anymore.

“And what? Jisung? What other lies are you gonna tell me?” Silence cuts through your speaker, finally giving your irritated heart a chance to breathe before Jisung continues.

“Wait...you think I’m lying about this?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re saying that a highschooler smokes! Jeez, if you didn’t like Sungchan you could’ve just said so!”

“You know I wouldn't lie to you, y/n!” Your buzzing figure leans back into your castle of stuffed animals as your bellows gradually get louder with each passing argument.

“I thought I knew, but you’re really making me second guess things. I’m tired of this, Jisung.” You finally hiss before ending the call, leaving Park Jisung suffocating in yet another guilt-filled haze. Just as you click away from the contact, a notification catches your eye, craving for any sort of distraction from your anger.

Sungchanniee :) [6:37pm]: hey :)

Sungchanniee :) [6:37pm]: you wanna call?

...

"I’m not so sure about this, Sungchan.” You fumbled with your fingers in the passenger's seat of Sungchan's car.

“C’mon! It's a party! It’ll be fun! Think of it as like a way to pay you back, for making you worry so much before.” You think back to your phone call, where you mostly vented about Park Jisung, while all he said was ‘calm down’ like ten times. Maybe he was right. You glanced out the car window, the greyish skyline growing darker and darker with each hour. God, your parents are going to kill you for staying out so late.

“Who is this YangYang guy, anyways?”

“Oh YangYang? That dude’s the best at parties, you’re gonna love him!” Sungchan beamed. You huffed. Anything to get your mind away from your childhood neighbor.

The bass-boosted, trap noise someone had the audacity to call music shook you to your core the moment you entered the party house. You met familiar faces, sure, but none you wanted to talk to. How did anyone have fun like this? Heck, where did Sungchan go? Your now curious eyes glance back to the bar, shiny bronze liquids all dazzled up in their own glass bottles. Nothing like your neighbourhood child self had ever seen. You found yourself drifting closer. What kind of house party was this?

The liquor slid down your throat with an extra sting. Too many flavours, all clashing with each other in the wrong ways. And yet, you found yourself coming for more. You’re already halfway done your first cup of the night when a figure comes up from behind you.

“Hey! I’m YangYang! Sungchan brought you, right?” He extended a hand out to you as you exchanged greetings. He carried your attention to the top of the stairs as you desperately tried to hear him over the music. “Uh-yeah, I’m y/n.”

“Just to let you know, we have a chill out room if you ever need a quiet place to stay.” YangYang informed, his smile radiating welcoming energy. “It’s up on the third floor, just to your left. Have fun!”

You bid him farewell before you resumed staring intently at your drink, hoping no one else would spare you a glance.

45 minutes and probably 2 drinks (though it really felt like 6) later, Your head starts banging with a sharp pain you never felt before, clenching at your brain. You hiss in pain, the bass pounding music only making you feel sick. You wobbly retreat up to that chill room YangYang mentioned. That would calm you down, right?

“Hey” The sudden yet comforting voice of Sungchan alarmed you as you creaked the door open. He was perched onto the bed, the light of the lamp setting his skin on fire. Your eyes couldn’t look at him for long, though, not with your heavy eyelids drooping. Sungchan scoots aside, patting a now vacant space on the guest bedroom, just for you. “You should rest, you look exhausted.”

...

Chenle slammed the car door shut, shoving his car keys in his pocket as Shotaro followed swiftly. The evening breeze swayed the flaps of Chenle’ jacket as he shivered. “We’re at the party now, Sung.” He muttered to his phone.

“Alright.” Jisung could barely breathe as he perched his head on his damp pillow, not with the guilt still rushing through his body. His eyes, still red and swollen, watched the bright stars contrast from the midnight sky. It was the first time he's stayed in at night. Yet he was in no condition to go out. Sure, the stars shined bright tonight, but his star was forever gone. He’d lost you.

“You just want us to check on her, right?” Chenle implored as Shotaro greeted the party, putting up his best ‘I actually want to be here!’ face. Jisung huffed softly through the other end. “Yeah.”

“Take care of y/n for me.”

...

Like a magnet, you flew onto the bed, positioning yourself for a good night’s rest. Sungchan swiftly laid beside you, a groan escaping his lips as he positioned himself too. You inhale, the air around you smelling faintly of…cigarettes? You brush it aside, this is a highschool house party, afterall.

Sungchan watched as your eyes struggled to stay open, his face merely inches away from your peaceful one. His heartbeat grew faster and faster, his heart racing as he pushed your hair behind your ear. A sly smirk lined his lips.

He started off slow, peppering kisses all over your sleeping figure as he made sure you weren't fully awake. Softly, he pinned you down, the blades of your shoulders digging into the mattress as he got on top of you, fully encasing your frame in his. YangYang's a genius, letting him use the guest bedroom like this. Sungchan felt you tremble under him, wriggling around as you send whimper-like sounds in his direction. He grew hot, practically salivating. Park Jisung can finally piss off.

"mmph, Jisung stop it" you uttered unconsciously, throwing Sungchan off his course. Anger ruling through him as he gripped the bedsheets, trying his best not to lash out on your peaceful figure. After all this time? You still thought about him? That asshole? His hand grabs a hold of the bare of your thigh. He was glad you only wore a skirt today.

The touch of a cold palm shook you away from your drunken slumber, only to find Sungchan, pinned on top of you with rosy, flustered cheeks. He stared you down with the hunger of a lion, moments before devouring its next meal. Your eyes widen, the sudden realization of Sungchan's current doings striking you like a flash of lightning.

Jisung was right, he was dangerous.

You pushed Sungchan's chest off of yours as you shot up from the bed, terror dripping from your eyes. His eyes still contained that hunger. A hunger that you were never going to solve. "Get off of me!"

You raced through the door, not sparing him a chance to answer. While sliding down the stairs and slithering through the crowds of drunken teenagers, you barely noticed the tears welling up in your eyes. All of your trust, all of your faith, brutally destroyed right before your eyes. Who could you turn to now??

"Y/n? Where are you going?" Chenle, who arrived late to this horrid party, tugged on your sweater lightly to get your attention. You, however, only responded with a stronger pull away.

"I'm going home, Chenle. I need to get out of here." You huffed breathlessly before escaping, not sparing him or Shotaro a glance. Chenle gave Shotaro a concerned stare before following your footsteps.

Sure, you had the willpower to get as far away from that monster as possible, but your legs didn't. They were weak, wobbly, and the mercy of gravity's pull. Your running form grew sloppy as your arms dragged themselves through the air. You were so beat, that it didn't come to your surprise when your sight switched to black and a thump of hard pavement striking your head before you laid limp underneath the streetlight.

“Y/N!”

...

You convinced yourself you were peacefully floating away on a cloud, so imagine your disappointment when your eye’s flutter open to see your bedroom curtains, followed by your comforter which you drowned in. The sunshine shot your weak eyes as you shifted around, wondering how you ended up back home in the first place. What happened?

Jeno sat right beside your sleeping figure, lazily perched on your desk chair as his eyes abruptly ripped away from his phone screen and onto you. He sent you a heartwarming smile, his once tense expression relaxed at the sight of you, alive and well. You never seen Jeno smile like that before. It was nice

“How are you feeling?” He soothed, patting the back of your hair softly after scooting closer to you. You murmured a half-assed response, the shockwaves of a major headache starting. God, you were never going to drink again. “I’m alright, I think.”

Jeno huffed out a relieved chuckle, pulling the blanket over so it would cover more of your cold looking frame. He gave you another bonk to the head with his knuckles, something that helped your headache. Helped it hurt, at least.

“That’s good. Well, you passed out last night, Chenle had to take you home. And don’t worry, I didn’t tell Mom and Dad about the party. You should watch out for Hyuck, though.” Your eyes widen at Jeno’s words, ‘party’ specifically shaking you to your core. The deafening music, the soul-irking booze, the unknown faces. You hated it. Jung Sungchan pinning you down on the guest bed, closing the distance between you without your approval. You hated it. Utterly disgusted by it. All your trust, your respect for him, thrown out the window. Your mind trails back to a certain phone call, your heart now drenched in guilt.

“That Sungchan guy is a complete asshole!”

“He’s got bad motives, y/n.”

“You don’t wanna hang out with someone like him!”

Park Jisung. Your childhood neighbor. The one who was right all along, and the one you foolishly disregarded. You clenched the fabric of your shirt, your heart pulling on your weakened frame. How could you be so blind, and still have the heart to blame him? Park Jisung. Your protector, your knight. The one who truly held your heart. That last thought sent butterflies straight to your stomach. Of course, He always had that effect on you. You’ve just never believed yourself. Always brushed it aside. If Jisung could tell you the truth, so could you. You love him. You’re in love with Park Jisung.

You scrambled out of your bed, your speedy figure scaring the living shit out of Jeno. “Woah, slow down! Where are you going?”

Your eyebrows wrinkle, etched in determination. “I need to find Jisung.”

“Can’t that wait? You need to rest!”

“I need to tell him the truth.” you murmured. “My heart can’t take it anymore, Jeno.” he sent you a knowing nod, stepping aside as you rushed out the door.

Your brother did have a point, though. You shouldn’t be scrambling away like this, not with your knees about to buckle up from exhaustion. Your eyes, however, shot straight ahead, your pulse going through the roof. No more lying to yourself anymore. You race through the kitchen, not paying notice to a distraught looking Donghyuck, protecting his full cereal bowl from a fatal accident.

The grass still felt damp from the week-old rainfall as it hugged your bare feet. You raced through the sidewalk, your chest heaving as the wind pushed against you. Where was he?

The creeks of the ancient swingset didn’t fail to irk the ears of Jisung and Chenle as they sat in a comfortable silence, with a few (but very opinionated) comments thrown in by Chenle to help lighten the mood. It was the only thing Chenle could think to do, with a guilt-ridden, messed up Park Jisung at his side.

“I couldn’t protect her, Chenle.” He barely whispered, breath shaking. “I was too late.”

“You did everything you could, man. You can’t protect her all the time.”

“I wasn’t even there when she needed me most!” Jisung shouted, his voice booming as he shot up from his swing. “If I can’t do something like that, how am I gonna…” He trailed off, his figure slumping back to his swing.

“How are you gonna...what?” Chenle’s curious eyes scanned the brooding figure. His hands, fully enveloping his head, ruffling his hair in the process. If Chenle hadn’t leaned in right beside Jisung, he would’ve never caught his little一yet electrifying一confession. “...How am I gonna be her boyfriend?”

“JISUNG!” The two teenagers jolted back into reality, the sounds shallow, exhausted breaths hurling their direction as their whip in unison. Your disheveled figure一complete in its oversized t-shirt, tousled hair, and lack of proper footwear一bolts towards them. Despite the energy surging away from you, you wouldn’t rest until you reached them. As you got closer, your eyes finally locked with Jisung’s, mirroring your guilt ridden expression as he towered over you.

“Jisung, I-” You began, not sure if your shaky breath was caused by the immense amount of cardio you just did, or your rapidly thumping heart about to explode in your chest. “I’m sorry for blaming everything on you, not listening to you about Sungchan, everything. I was being stupid and selfish and一” You cut yourself off, not daring to look up at the dumbfounded Park Jisung, ear’s more red than the red scrunchie on your wrist.

“I-I need you in my life. You’re the one that keeps my life together, the one who kept me safe, ever since we were kids.”

Your eyes finally had the courage to look at him, your fingers wrinkling the hem of your shirt as you bite your lip in pure anxiety. Your heart was racing, was this what a heart attack felt like?

“I’m in love with you, Jisung.”

Jisung froze, his lips parted in utter shock. It all hit him too fast. His brain lagged behind as his hands, etched with a sense of impatience, roughly cups your cheeks, bringing them inches before his face. Eyelids fluttering shut, he molds his lips onto yours, his arms clasping around your waist in an effort to hold you close, so you never leave his life again. You reciprocate, your arms wrapping around his neck, trying your best to hide the butterflies stuck in your stomach. A sensation only Park Jisung could achieve.

The two of you finally part lips from your breath-stealing kiss, your eyes never letting each other go as vermillion stains your cheeks. Jisung quietly stuttered out his reply. Don’t get Jisung wrong, he wasn’t hesitant to answer at all. In fact, you were pretty sure you already knew his. Jisung shined a heartwarming smile.

“I love you too, y/n.”

...

“Did you really need to punch that guy that hard? I think his nose started bleeding!” Shotaro yelped, still slightly out of breath the four of you running away from the shop security.

“That asshole deserved it! He shouldn’t be flirting with my girlfriend in FRONT of me!” Jisung laid back on the playground bench, an arm hugging your waist from behind as you lazily perched next to him.

“That asshole was the cashier, and your girlfriend was paying for our drinks, dumbass.” Chenle uttered with a deadpan look. He tossed another ice cold, convenience store drink. “Tell him, y/n!”

“Chenle’s right.” You responded automatically, softly smiling to the feeling of Jisung’s arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace, his head hiding in the crook of your neck. This boy really softened you like putty. You glance back at him, your eyes holding the stars above.

“Besides, I already have you, I don’t need anyone else.”

As you and Jisung both blissfully ignored the fake retching sounds emitting from a sarcastic Chenle, and the contrasting, supportive cheers coming from Shotaro, you sent Jisung a swift, sweet peck on the cheek. Turns out you could melt him like putty, too, judging by his embarrassed reaction. You didn’t need the questionable comments. You only needed him. Park Jisung. Your (scrawny) knight and shining armour.

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voidstilesplease · 4 years ago

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Swords and Arrows

or That Summer When The Ares and Athena Cabins Finally Allied For Capture The Flag part 1 of 3

⚔️🏹⚔️🏹⚔️🏹

(A Steo Demigod AU) || For @anonymous's prompt: "Scott as a Roman demigod instead of Greek" || word count: 2,647 || The Entire Demigod Series -> [AO3][Tumblr] (it's finally a working link tfg)

Stiles pulls back, "I was going to ask if you missed me," he says, face flushed and beaming. "But it appears I don't need to."

"You never need to."

🏹⚔️🏹⚔️🏹⚔️

"Why the long face, little brother?" Tara asks cheerfully, wedging herself on the bench between Theo and one of their half-siblings, and placing down her tray brimming with colorful food as opposed to Theo's bleak and half-empty one. She grins at Theo, but he's not in the mood to return the goodwill.

Theo pokes half-heartedly at the contents of his tray: a lonely sealed bag with a couple squares of ambrosia inside - the food of the gods - some cheese and two slices of wheat bread. "Don't call me little brother," he mutters with little heat, leaning to the table to whisper a request to his goblet, which immediately fills up with sparkling water.

Tara looks over Theo's head at Fred, their Head Counselor, sitting on Theo's other side. "He's not back yet?"

Fred shakes his head, wiping the bbq sauce at the side of his mouth. "Nope," he replies, popping the 'p' and catching on to the question without much elaboration. By now, there's only one 'he' that reduces Theo to a brooding and sulky man-child. "He hasn't answered Theo's last IM, too."

"Try the last five Iris Messages," Theo grumbles in annoyance. He turns to Tara, face contorted in a sour expression. "I mean, how difficult is it to take my call? He always has drachmas in his pocket exactly for this reason."

"He's probably busy disintegrating monsters," Fred says reasonably. Which, of course, makes sense. Monsters make the most infuriating and persistent roadblock of all. They make any journey twice as long for demigods - if they don't manage to kill you, that is. "Or, you know," Fred adds, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "maybe he's being an accomodating companion to the Son of Jupiter."

Theo grinds his teeth hard and fixes his head counselor with a death glare. Fred only shrugs at Theo's reaction, obviously aiming for the exact response, and chuckling through a bite of ambrosia. Theo has half a mind to punch him in the jugular. He doesn't need a reminder of who Stiles is with, thanks. Spitefully, he harshly impales a piece of grape from Fred's tray with the tines of his fork and shoves it to his mouth in the most menacing manner he can project.

It only makes Fred guffaw, spraying bits of food onto the table. The campers across from him slide their trays away protectively, shrieking an indignant chorus of "Fred!" as they make sure no stray bits made it into their platters. Fred raps at his chest as he reaches for his goblet, still laughing his dumb ass off while trying to wave his hand in apology.

Their neighbors also share their opinion on the appalling table manners of the Ares brood - spitting out food may slightly be a common scene from their lot, unfortunately.

Brett from the Apollo cabin throws corn kernels at Fred, a strange display of solidarity if you can believe it, while Ara, the half-Korean junior counselor of Athena cabin, gives the Ares and Apollo tables a look of disapproval. She's a pretty terrifying 15 years old, which is why Stiles is extremely fond of her. With Stiles gone to New Rome the first week back to camp, Ara is doing a kickass job taking over the head counselor duty. (But, to Hades with it, Theo would much prefer Stiles to be scowling at their table.)

"Okay, first of all," Tara says over the little chaos. "Fred, you're disgusting. Second," she holds Theo's chin to compel him to look at her, then smirks, "Stealing a piece of fruit is not a cabin 5-worthy intimidation tactic."

Theo opens his mouth for his scathing retort, but at the same time, one of Stiles's younger siblings points in the direction of the cabins. "Hey, it's Stiles!"

Many heads look up, but Theo springs to his feet instantly, scanning the area for Stiles. He catches sight of him almost immediately, bounding to the Mess Hall in his orange shirt, face bright under the camp's enchanted borders, as radiant as the last time Theo saw him four long months ago. Without much thought, Theo finds himself carried by his feet towards Stiles.

Stiles sees him coming too, and his smile broaden. Theo sprints, forgetting himself and where they are. They meet halfway, by the entrance of the Mess Hall, with Theo knocking into Stiles's open arms strong enough that it's a surprise they're still upright on the ground.

Theo squeezes him to make sure his mind did not conjure a Spectre to appease his longing. Stiles feels solid under his hands, if a little sweaty, and he smells as if he was run over by monsters. But underneath the grime, he catches the scent of Stiles's favorite body wash. He feels himself sagging in satisfaction.

Stiles pulls back, "I was going to ask if you missed me," he says, face flushed and beaming. "But it appears I don't need to."

"You never need to."

Theo doesn't know how long they stood just smiling at each other, but they break apart at Chiron's pointed clearing of the throat. It's not even in Theo's head to be embarrassed by his actions despite the cackling and many leering faces of the other demigods. Mr. D merely raises an unimpressed eyebrow, though the twinkle in his eyes can only be from amusement.

Chiron is sitting on his wheelchair today, hiding his horse's ass behind the illusion of human legs - why he still does it is a wonder - and rolls forward to them.

"Stiles Stilinski," he greets merrily, the lines of his eyes crinkling when he smiles. "Welcome back." Chiron gazes a little behind them, then, nodding kindly towards another boy Theo only notices, is standing patiently at a distance.

The boy, Scott McCall, son of Jupiter and a praetor of the Roman demigods' army, the Twelfth Legion Fulminata, steps forward to bow his head in respect of the centaur. "Chiron," he also acknowledges Mr. D who didn't bother to get up from the head table. "Lord Bacchus."

"Hm," Mr. D hums without correcting the demigod, sipping on his diet coke dismissively.

Theo doesn't hate Scott, but he also doesn't like him - strongly, irrationally, dislikes him. Instinctively, he shuffles closer to Stiles as if his boyfriend is going to dissolve into the Mist if he isn't close enough to pull him back.

Theo's been agitated since Stiles told him, a week prior, that he was flying to New Rome in California where Camp Jupiter is, the Roman camp, for a 'friendly' visit. Everyone's allowed to cross borders, but no one has really done so just to tour around. After all, the camps are on opposing sides of the country and monsters don't pause to consider not killing vacationing demigods.

A couple of times before last week, when Theo visited Stiles in his Manhattan apartment, he'd, out of the blue, mentioned the varied courses and scholarships that New Rome University offered, as Theo laid his head on Stiles's lap while the latter read. Theo hadn't minded it at the time, as Stiles quickly dropped the subject. But another month passed and Stiles mentioned it again, randomly, during one of their IMs, adding that he might check into the enrollment requisites. Theo started to worry, then.

If Stiles goes to New Rome for college, Theo can't follow him. He never even got to finish eighth grade. And Scott, he's one of the Romans, their leader, and grudging as he is to admit, one of Stiles's friends now the more he visits Camp Half-Blood. He will eagerly encourage Stiles, telling him of the countless perks that Camp Jupiter has. He will be as big a hero there as he is in Camp Half-Blood, and he can rise to praetorship alongside Scott if the Legion so wishes it.

Scott is not a bad person per se, but he wears the color and insignia of the place Theo might lose Stiles to. And if Theo blinks the wrong way, he might not see quick enough that Stiles is being whisked away to the other side of the coast, leading a life without him.

⚔️🏹⚔️🏹⚔️🏹

After officially welcoming the son of Jupiter to the camp, feeding him, and getting him settled in Cabin One, the campers go about their daily routine of training.

The blade vibrates when it hits the shooting log, right on the marked spot. Then it disappears into thin air and reappears in Theo's hand only to be thrown back to the same spot. He does it repeatedly, unrelentingly, until Tara aims with his bow and hits his blade with an arrow to send both weapons clanging to the ground, a few meters away.

Theo heaves; he doesn't even know he's breathless just from throwing until then. Wiping beads of sweat from his forehead, he nods appreciatively at the bow in Tara's hands when his sister stands beside him with a smile. "If we aren't siblings, I'd mistake you for a daughter of Apollo."

"Please," she laughs, opening her palm, gesturing at the fallen weapons. Both her arrow and Theo's blade fly to her hands in a matter of seconds. "I don't want to light up like a glow stick while waxing poetry during a fight." Children of Apollo don't actually do those in the middle of a fight, but they do glow when they're healing, and they can make others speak in rhymes just for fun. Tara offers the knife back to his brother. "Also, we're children of Ares. By birthright alone, we should know to wield any weapon of war."

Theo takes the knife and snorts, "And yet, I suck at archery."

"I can't summon weapons out of thin air," She points out, grinning at him as she puts the arrow back to its sheaf. "I guess we just can't have it all or Zeus would be zapping us one by one."

Theo scoffs, leaning into position to begin throwing again.

"Speaking of Zeus," Tara says, a playful tone in her words. "Where's your favorite son of the Sky God?"

Theo spares her a glare before flinging his knife and burying it onto the battered practice log. He purses his lips before answering, "He's at the Big House with Chiron, Mr. D, Stiles, and the other head counselors." He clenches his fingers around the blade's hilt when it returns to his hands. "They're talking about a little orientation on New Rome University's scholarships and handing brochures and study guide for the DSTOMP." Theo doesn't bother hiding the acid in his voice from his sister. She'll recognize it anyway, even if he masks it with neutrality. He can't mask it with neutrality.

She quirks a brow, "You don't sound too eager," she notes. "Are you still jealous of Scott, little brother?"

"I'm not jealous of Scott," he says, gritting his teeth. "And don't call me little brother."

"Why are you so strung up, then, if you're not baselessly jealous?"

He finds his reply being interrupted for the second time that day, this time by a distant rumbling coming from the sky. All activities on the ground cease as everyone turns to the increasing volume of an invisible running engine. Theo scans the space above them, at first not grasping anything in motion, until a burst of light reveals a flying, glowing red bus coming down fast to the ground.

🏹⚔️🏹⚔️🏹⚔️

Someone goes to alert Chiron as the rest of them scamper to the landing site by the amphitheater. The bus landed surprisingly smooth, despite its breakneck descent.

"Is that a Ferrari bus?" One of the campers points out.

Sure enough, the logo at the front of the vehicle, a black prancing horse on a yellow background, is of the famous luxury sports brand. But why would there be a flying Ferrari bus at Camp Half-Blood?

"Oh gods," Lori gasps somewhere on Theo's left. "Is that dad's sun chariot?"

As if on cue, the bus door opens, and a teenager who looks about Theo's age exits, wearing what he can only describe as a hipster look. He flashes a blinding grin - and quite literally at that, since they have to shield their eyes momentarily from the glimmer of his teeth - clears his throat dramatically, and announces:

"Hello demigods

The sun landed on your grounds

I am so awesome."

There's silence at first, then a series of enthusiastic applause from Brett and the rest of cabin seven comes next. The teenager bows theatrically, although Theo finds nothing extraordinary about what he just said. But soon, the others join in with half-hearted claps, recognizing the powerful aura suddenly seeping into their skins that could only mean there's a god among them - well, another god, aside from Dionysus, their Camp Director. And with the terrible haiku, there will be no mistaking who graced their camp today. The last time Theo had seen him, during the almost war on his first year at camp, the god had worn the body of a muscular mid-20's blond man. Now, it seems he favors to look even younger despite his four thousand years.

"Lord Apollo," Chiron's voice drowns out the applaud as he trots forward, now in his form as a white stallion from the waist down. "It's a pleasant surprise. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood."

Mr. D isn't as warm. He snorts, rolling his eyes. "Oh, bother, what brought you here now?"

Apollo's bright persona doesn't falter as he gestures at the bus - that is apparently his sun chariot. Theo remembers the time when he almost drove Apollo's chariot, if the Hermes cabin did not snitch it from under their noses, and thus putting three cabins grounded after a severe prank war. He had to take Liam's dish duties and pay him just so his present for Stiles could be delivered in time for Christmas.

"I'm here at the request of my little sister." The god says proudly, as the door opens again, this time with grumbling teenage and prepubescent girls coming out from the bus. All dressed in the same outfit: silver jackets, silver camo pants, and black combat boots, and they carry at their backs a quiver of sharp silver arrows. They glance at Apollo with apparent distrust, standing as far away from him as possible, as the god continues, "To deliver her hunters safely while she's away on a personal errand."

Several demigods groan in displeasure at the news, and even Chiron's lips form a thin line, though he tries to smile through the tension. Mr. D seems to be delighted now, though, happier to see the strange, vicious-looking ladies than his own brother. Personally, it feels like an omen of danger. Mr. D is never happy unless something perilous is about to descend upon his campers - even if his own daughter, Malia, is among them.

"Thank you, Lord Apollo." One of the hunters says albeit she looks physically pained by her words. She stands at the front of the group, a silver ring headwear around her head, with bouncing black curls, a pointed nose, and a strong chin. The other hunters also look at her when she speaks. It's easy to recognize her as the group's leader. "And thank you, Lord Dionysus, Chiron, for accomodating the hunters of Lady Artemis."

Chiron nods at the girl, eyes softening with kindness born out of familiarity, "You're always welcome, Allison."

Mr. D laughs boisterously, then. Like his punishment has just been lifted and he can go back to Olympus and away from the brats, celebrating by getting drunk on wine after years of prohibition. "Well, at least, Capture the Flag this Friday seems more enticing now, don't you think so, Chiron?" He gives a wicked grin at his campers, not waiting for a reply, his change in demeanor promising a torturous next few days for the demigods. "Ready to lose the Camp Half-Blood banner to these little girls for the 58th time in a row?"

~•~

#steo #steo fic #demigod au #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #stiles x theo #so idk what the heck happened #but i wrote 1k words more than my target word count #ahdbdjdjskxb idk #also for the demigod anon here's a response to one of your prompts!!#it took a hot minute but i hope you see this #scott mccall #brett talbot #tara raeken #allison argent #fics tag #demigodseries

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timextoxhajima · 4 years ago

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GEN Z SERIES, HYUNJAE: The Third Eye

"Will you choose to believe what you see or what you feel?”

Member: Hyunjae

Genre: Fantasy / Slice of Life / Supernatural / Angst / TW

Trigger Warnings: Rape, Self-Harm

Word Count: 5.8k

Taglist: @yn-am-pm @fleurseoul @sunwoowuvbot

The first time I knew I saw something that wasn't there, I was scared. How was an eight-year-old supposed to treat an elderly man who looked closer to a skeleton than a human being standing in the corner of the room... of an elderly's home?

I remember my mother combing my grandmother's hair while my father was helping me pick up my crayons off the floor when I saw him. Nurses were walking down the corridors in a hurry. I remember nobody noticed -- or at least, unlike the conventional way of death that has been portrayed in movies and books by the very cliché usage of the flatlining on the monitor. He had a good amount of hair for an old man in his nineties.

Then again, it might've been his deteriorating health that made him look older than he actually was when he died. Time seemed to pass a lot slower when they let me see them. Unlike the way his skin seemed to sink in between his ribs and wrap around the bones of his arms, his eyes were full of light. The kind that I recognised when I was at school. I didn't know then, because I was just a child he realised could see his soul. But I will never forget the blessing he placed on the top of my head. Every single word etched into my mind like carved into stone.

I told my grandmother about the man I saw earlier that day when my parents went to talk to the nurses of the elderly home. She was scared at first, when she realised her grandchild had abilities that not many had. Yet, she never told my parents, because she knew they would convince themselves that they could do something about it -- as if one could really remove the powers of a third eye all so easily.

Angels are not beings with wings or halos but instead, a bright orb of gold and white. The old man waved so dearly to me, after giving his children and grandchildren a kiss atop their heads though they couldn't feel it. He was 88, auspicious numbers in many cultures. Then when the orb of light drifted in through the window, I remember I could almost hear the sounds of kittens and puppies. But just as it neared him, I heard the familiar sounds of laughter from his children and grandchildren, then static sounds of radio and music I didn't recognise. I will later find out that the music belonged in the 40s.

The orb presents you with everything you've loved and enjoyed and held close to your heart in your life, and should you be content with what the orb has to offer you, then it must be time for you to go.

But where there is light, there is darkness. Where there are orbs of smiles and flowers, there are daggers of blood and evil lurking in the shadows. I was 13 when I saw evil in one of its many forms. I had a headache the entire day, a sign to tell me that my third eye is in close proximity with something that did not align with my believes and morals.

I had expected something to jump out at me through the reflection off the mirror, or a hand to burst through the ground and grab me by the ankle. But no, evil in one of its many forms does not need it to be horrifying and scary.

Her hair was long, and her face was covered in what looked like burn marks.

Does Hell burn through you so quickly?

She looks human, but her fingers were split down the middle, thorns sticking out every finger, in which on each hand she has ten.

As she graced the corridors of school, she sheds these thorns that drop like nails to the floor, waiting for someone to step on those facing upwards. Have you ever gotten a sharp ache or pinch in the soles of your feet when you're walking sometimes?

If you have, then you would've probably stepped on a Hell's Thorn, or at least, that's what I called it. I never found out if she could see me, but when I realised I could touch the thorns and kick them out of sight, they'd roll off into some corner before dissolving into red ash.

Over a decade of being stuck between two worlds. I've done enough reading to understand the dangers of prancing along this line, not being able to shut one side off completely. So, when the ghosts, demons and spirits hide in the shadows of my room, or stare at me point-blank in the middle of the day like a normal human being would, it becomes normal.

They are everywhere, even when you cannot feel them. It gets confusing, when they look more human than some human beings.

Just how much longer... or how much more can I stay like this?

"I don't know where your diary is. If you're telling me it's here, then I'm telling you it's gone."

You are standing right smack in the middle of the school field, afternoon sun beaming down onto your hair. Squinting your eyes, you look around the large space of artificial grass and beyond that, the tracks, where students were finding some fun in running laps in the summer heat.

"But..."

"Lee Eun," Your heart breaks, more than necessary, because this is not the first time you've done it. "What you're looking for isn't here. The building your locker was in was torn down 20 years ago and if it was there, it's gone now. Or at least..." She watches you turn around and stare at the ground beneath your feet. "It's not here anymore."

Lee Eun was a student from your school that graduated in 2000. But she lost her life the day she graduated, only because she hadn't seen the brick falling from the nearby construction site where the school building you attended now was being built.

The silence becomes unbearable so you look up, but you only see the two male students jogging along the track and nobody else in sight. The orb did not come to collect Lee Eun's soul; this is not over.

The sweat has stuck your uniform to your back when you return to class, and it becomes apparent to you that a particular shadow has not shifted an inch since you've stepped into the classroom. You weren't in pain, so this entity is not a demon. Yet, you cannot identify its gender. It had no face, no hair, just... a volume of shadow and darkness and if the girls sitting before it knew it was there, they'd probably scream their head off.

You know its staring at you with every intention in its spirit, though you cannot see its eyes. And it stays when the teacher enters the classroom with a new student trailing behind him. For a moment, your attention is diverted to Jang Jun Hyuk, hair brown and skin fair. The girls in the class were already ogling over him, it's not a surprise anymore. But the shadow turns to look at him, then at you, and the darkness dissolves into the beige wall behind it, vanishing as Jang Jun Hyuk bows and introduces himself.

Then the king of the class speaks at a volume you know you weren't supposed to hear, but consider it a special talent now that you've honed the skills of your third eye.

"Strange vibes," Lee Hyunjae was probably talking to Younghoon. "Don't you think there's something off about him?"

"Are you sure you're not just threatened that there's someone who rivals our popularity?"

Jang Jun Hyuk bows to the class, then is instructed by the teacher to take a seat diagonally behind you, right in front of Lee Hyunjae.

"Hey, new kid."

A frown gently presses itself into your forehead when you can hear Younghoon give Hyunjae a gentle whack on his shoulder.

"Where did you move from?"

"Ah, I moved from another city. My father was transferred."

The shadow was now standing by the door of the classroom, watching the teacher scribble on the whiteboard.

"Cool," Hyunjae offers a friendly laugh. That's more like him. "Join us at lunch, provided you don't have a crowd to hang out with yet."

“Uh, sure.”

The shadow turns to look at you -- even without eyes, you know it’s watching you.

By the time you have been dragged to the cafeteria by your friends (though most people tend to think you’re weird for talking to yourself sometimes), Hyunjae has doubled over on some bench cracking up at a joke Jun Hyuk made.

Your friends can’t help but to draw your attention to the new addition to the group of popular males.

“Man fits right in, doesn’t he?”

“At least he looks like one of them.”

“y/n,” One of the two call out to you. “What happened to... what was her name?”

“Lee Eun.”

“Right, the ghost from twenty years ago. How is she?”

The two look at you with wide, glistening eyes. Most people aren’t as accommodating to your abilities, so it’s a blessing to have them by your side.

“I haven’t seen her since earlier today. She said she had a diary in school but she never found it.”

“Well, maybe it is still in school somewhere, locked up in some lost and found box or lost in some locker. Why else would she still be here and can’t... you know, move on?”

You shrug. I wish I knew.

The library was always comforting. The silence, the sound of pages being flipped and the occasional clicking of someone’s keyboard. And strangely enough, the library’s never really a hotspot for other beings except humans.

The peace was, unfortunately, disrupted though, when Jun Hyuk shows up with his backpack and tie neat around his collar. You greet him subtly before returning to your notes, but he sits down opposite you and renders your desire to be alone useless.

“Hyunjae and Younghoon told me you would be here.”

The pen in your grip gets lowered into the ivory sheets, gaze travelling up to look at him through your lashes. “Lee Hyunjae and Kim Younghoon? Why would they tell you where I am?”

Jun Hyuk offers a shy smile, diverting his brown irises away from you for a second. “Because I asked.”

The cold air stings your nose when you suck in a deep breath. “Why, do you need help with work? Because I’m literally the worst person to ask--”

“No, I just needed to know where I could find you so I could spend time with you.”

Your heart begins to thump madly, because it’s not everyday that a guy is so straightforward with his intentions to someone he just met.

“Uh--” You purse your lips in a bid to form a coherent sentence. “That’s really... honest of you.”

Jun Hyuk grins sweetly, eyes halving into crescents and creasing his skin around his lids. He has a dimple in his left cheek, a detail that you wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t sitting directly opposite you.

“So, can I?”

Confusion strikes you, only because assumption is a dangerous thing we like to do.

“Can you... what?”

“Hang out with you.”

The whir of the air-conditioner in the library becomes a little louder alongside the thumping that was now difficult to ignore in your head.

The blood rushes up to your cheeks and you can feel your face catching fire, so Jun Hyuk eases it by restarting a conversation.

“Anyway, have you done the work from today?”

“I--” You look down at the worksheet he was taking out from his bag. It’s barely filled. “I’ve been staring at it for awhile now--”

“Not good at Math?”

“I’m better at...” Jun Hyuk takes the worksheet and gets up, scooting over to the seat next to you. A gulp finds a way down your throat. “...English and Literature...”

“Well, it’s your lucky day because I’m great at Math.”

Up close, Jin Hyuk smells like fresh linen.

Not a great sign. He knows what makes a girl tick.

Jun Hyuk spends the rest of the afternoon helping you with the worksheet, and the glimmer in his eyes...

“Are you listening?”

Your jaw slacks in surprise, blinking your attention away from staring at him. A chuckle sounds from Jun Hyuk, who looks away with the slightest hint of pride.

Jun Hyuk makes you feel like you are prancing on clouds for the next few weeks. The little notes he passed in class that earned the attention of his new friends, Younghoon and Hyunjae. The sweets and treats that he’d leave on your desk before school and the after-school study sessions were your favourite part of the day.

He’d expected you to be calm and collected when he took the initiative to hold your hand under the table, but he could read how nervous and anxious you got, so he thinks it’s a good idea to ease that anxiety with a kiss on your cheek.

Lee Eun was no longer around to ask you for her diary, but the faceless shadow was still tailing you when you were in the classroom. It’s never interfered with your daily routine though, thus you choose to leave it be and enjoy being a normal teenager for once.

Three months after you met Jun Hyuk though, you could tell Hyunjae was deliberately steering away from him, dragging Younghoon along with him. You can’t help but wonder if it was because you and Jun Hyuk were now romantically involved and that Hyunjae had probably caught wind of the fact that you could see things that weren’t there, leading him to ostracise Jun Hyuk.

Not that it had that much effect anyway, Jun Hyuk was a charming boy on his own; he didn’t need Hyunjae’s help to ‘make it’ in school.

The day carries on as per usual with Jun Hyuk staying in school to study with you. Hands busy scribbling away and eyes darting across worksheets, you’ve always admired how focussed he gets when he does his work.

In attempt to pull him out of his stress-bubble, you cap on your pen and lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder after making sure there was nobody else left in the library.

“Do you want to take a break? You’ve been going at it for quite some time now.”

“I’m just about there, just hold on a minute, would you?”

A pout surfaces on your lips. “I know. I just... do you ever feel bad that Hyunjae and Younghoon aren’t as close to you as before?”

Jun Hyuk finishes the line he’s writing and looks up at you. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know, I just... you must’ve heard the rumor that I can see ghosts. Aren’t you upset that they might be leaving you out because of that?”

“You can see ghosts?” He scoffs. His attitude feels strange today, though he hasn’t said anything wrong. “That’s just stupid. And no, I don’t really care.”

“Oh,” A pause halts you, so you can think of an appropriate response. “You don’t... believe in ghosts or spirits?”

“No, that stuff is for kids.”

The thought of Jun Hyuk not believing in something you were known to be able to see was strangely more discomforting than not.

“Why’d you ask about Hyunjae and Younghoon? I thought you weren’t close with those guys?” He’s placing his pens into his pencil case and keeping his worksheets in his file. You start doing the same.

“I-- I’m not, I’m just asking for your sake.”

“My sake?” He clears the table of his items and leans back in his seat. “Why would it bother me? Is it because you don’t get to talk to them anymore?”

“What? Why would that matter to me?”

“I don’t know, you were pretty smitten with Hyunjae just a few weeks ago.”

“Since when?”

“You think I didn’t notice when you were smiling at him when he was making those jokes-- they weren’t even that funny?”

A frown has finally cemented itself between your brows. “I’m sorry, where is this jealousy even coming from? Why didn’t you just tell me when you saw it?”

Jun Hyuk goes silent, and you can tell he’s upset just by thinking about it. Sighing, you rest your head on his shoulder again in a bid to appease his anger.

“Alright, I’m sorry, okay? I was just concerned that you might feel left out or anything. And rest assured, I wasn’t flirting with Hyunjae.”

Jun Hyuk hums in response, reaching your chin to pull you closer. Your heart starts to pound in your ear when he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips against yours, the sudden intimacy catching you off-guard and sending chills down your spine.

Something doesn’t feel right.

“Jun--” You manage to cough out, just as he starts to bury his nose and lips into your neck. “Jun Hyuk, not here.”

“Come on, there’s nobody here. Isn’t it exciting?” He smirks into your skin but it makes you feel dirty.

“Jun, we really shouldn’t. I’m tired today so...” Gently pushing him off, his eyes are now filled with the ache of rejection. Somewhere inside you, you hope that he understands. But you also hope he knows he’s being an asshole.

“I... I think I’m going to go,” Backing away, you can hear your heart in your ears as you reverse, returning to the table to clear your stationery. His footsteps come dangerously close behind you before you are yanked around violently, each of your elbows coming into tight restraint in his palms.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going home,” When your eyes meet his, they are dark under the lighting. And even then, it seems like the man you trusted had turned to dust and blown away in the wind. “Please, let me go.”

“But don’t you trust me? Didn’t you say that you didn’t know what you’d do without me?” It’s horrifying when his nose comes dangerously closely to yours, his lips that were once part of a daydream now slowly being torn to shreds, forming an idea of a nightmare in your mind.

If you could feel darkness, you were sure you could hurl out nothing but black masses, when he aggressively pastes his lips to yours. There’s a stark difference being in love and being trustworthy... and being this person who was cutting off the blood supply from your face to your mouth now.

“Let me go, please!” Your strength is rendered useless in his tight grip around your wrists, and now he decides to shift his tongue to your neck, harshly sucking on the skin and flesh and making you want to hurl and sob instead. The struggle you offered was of no use to Jun Hyuk, not when he is able to shove you backwards and plaster your back to the study desk with all your pens and pencils under your back.

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?!”

“You should’ve thought about that before you kissed me first in the garden the other day, no?”

The tears finally stream when the betrayal sets in. Not even prayers would work anymore, would they?

Using his upper body weight to hold you to the table, the metal clinking of his belt comes like a warning when you can feel the tears wetting the strands of your hair.

“Jun Hyuk, please...”

“Shut up,” Ice cold fingers run up the length of your thighs and around your hips under your skirt, scratching your skin as he removes your underwear. “Isn’t this how much you trust me?”

Sobs run through gritted teeth as your chin tilts to the ceiling, his body absorbing every ounce of struggle and force you were exerting on him. But, it was so easily drained into him that you were gradually turning limp and lifeless. Hearing him undo his zipper while he wets and marks your skin with his tongue and teeth shuts off all your senses. Your eyes flutter shut with resignation, the shivering and trembling seeping away with your need to escape.

Help me.

Something fuses loudly. The lights go off.

“Who’s there?! Motherfucker!”

The zip goes back up, and the weight on you shifts away.

“I’m going to kill you!”

His voice wears away, getting softer with his footsteps.

Still crying, you pull up your underwear that was dangling at your ankles and push yourself off the surface of the table. Everything on the desk gets swept into your back before you stumble out of the secluded study area, the light of the late sunset greeting your tear stained face.

Reaching home feels like reaching the end point in a marathon, just that instead of feeling pride and glory, you were feeling nothing but worthlessness.

The lukewarm water feels like a gentle hug around your body when you sink into the cold marble, knees propped up and surfaced with your feet flat against the base of the bathtub.

Swollen eyes from crying but too tired to cry somemore, and you find difficulty in even remembering why you even fell for Jun Hyuk in the first place.

It was my fault for bringing it up. I shouldn’t have brought it up.

Maybe if I didn’t have this gift then I didn’t need to ask or worry about Jun Hyuk being ostracised. Maybe it shouldn’t be called a gift after all.

This pain is temporary, right? This small blade can do more than ease the pain. This blood that colors the water can do more than dry the tears from my eyes.

I wish I wasn’t born with this gift.

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into the tub, under the surface of the water. The water starts to feel thicker, and before you can count to five, it starts going up your nose.

But then it feels like you’ve been sucked into another dimension and thrown back onto your bed when you gasp, sitting up and choking out what feels like water in your throat.

Your hands fumble around yourself, and you wince when you look down at your wrists. The vertical cut looked more like a scar that’s already healed, rather than an injury you had chosen to inflict on yourself just hours before.

The clock strikes 3.33am, and while you would usually be kind of freaked out because 3 is not an auspicious number, you can’t help but to feel some kind of relief when you realised you were still alive.

The next few days you spend in the shadows. Jun Hyuk tries to apologise to you on more than one occasion, but when you glitch and nearly break down when he gets anywhere near you, your friends start to understand that something had happened.

Why would you want to take your life all of a sudden?

Mr. Shadowman doesn’t leave you alone though. Instead, it starts following you more aggressively, showing up in the strangest of places and in the most horrendous positions. You had seen it standing with its feet planted to the ceiling of the cafeteria, then again standing perfectly still behind the classroom door when the teacher closed it.

Then it finally follows you into the bathroom after school. You’ve changed your studying location to your classroom, so you wouldn’t need to worry about being alone.

But no matter how many times you see this shadow, seeing it curled up under the sink in the female’s toilet makes you yelp and jump backwards, not even enticing a reaction from it.

“You...” Gripping the edge of the sink, you squat and stare at it. “What do you need from me?”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere nearer to it if I were you.” Your eyes dart up into the broken glass above the sink. Seeing Hyunjae staring at you through the reflection, with the pillar hiding the rest of his body was surprising.

It dawns on you that whatever you were seeing, Hyunjae could see it too.

The shadow remained still under the sink, crouched into a mass like someone holding its knees to its chest. The water dripping from under the sink slips through the mass like it wasn’t there. Hyunjae spares you a few seconds to stare at it some more until he grabs your arm and pulls you out of the toilet.

“What the-- don’t touch me--” Yanking your wrist out of his hands, you jerk away from him. The impact pulls your sleeves upwards, revealing the bruises that Jun Hyuk had left on you just a few days ago -- and the scar of the cut down your forearm.

His attention is stolen by the marks, cuing you to nervously pull your sleeves back down as you steal a glance at Hyunjae’s face.

“Don’t interact with that thing,” He advises after a few moments of silence. “It’s been following you.”

Looking up with a harsh frown on your face, confusion and anger starts to seep through your bones.

“You mean to tell me you could see these things all this while?”

Hyunjae’s eyes fill with a tiny pinch of guilt, but he doesn’t look away.

“That thing is harmless,” Your thumb brushes across the area where the bruise was hidden under the material of your sleeve. “It saved me.”

“If it’s harmless or any bit human then why doesn’t it have a face? Or eyes or hair or a mouth?”

“So, you can’t see what it is either. Have you seen others? Ghosts, the angel orbs, demons--”

“Get this clear in your head, I am not here to discuss what you can see,” Hyunjae takes a step closer and looks at you with an expression you can’t read. Was he angry? Frustrated? Worried? Concerned?

“But do not engage with whatever that is. They only stick around if you entertain it, and right now, you are just short of becoming friends with it.”

“You make it sound like you know everything about that other world.”

“And you make it sound like you haven’t seen a demon and that there are no dangers of it.”

The proximity starts to make you anxious; his build is similar to Jun Hyuk’s and the physical confrontation starts to knock on your skull is all the ways possible. Hyunjae retreats when he notices your eyes are unable to meet his now, and he walks away with his fists clenched.

That night, you are unable to fall asleep. Not with the new revelation that Hyunjae can see the same things you do. Or was it just the shadow that he can see?

Has he seen the orbs or angels or demons?

You sit up in your bed, eyes adjusting to the darkness when a thud wakes you up. The crickets outside are loud in the silent night, but it takes you just a split second to recognise the shadow standing in the corner where the door meets the corner of the room.

Keeping your eyes peeled, you fumble around at your nightstand, searching for the button of the lamp. It doesn’t disappear though, when the amber light illuminates the cream-pink room.

“What do you need?” The query comes out more like a whisper, because most spirits you meet are ghosts who need your help or are willing to talk to you -- most of them have faces and eyes and have some resemblance to being human at some point of time in their life.

The shadow pulls itself off the wall, and turns from a flat, regular shadow into a mass of darkness; the same way it was in the classroom when you first saw it, then later under the sink in the bathroom.

This is the first time this has happened -- a shadow that was very obviously a being and yet you cannot decide if it was something harmful or something that once walked the Earth.

By now, the shadow is just about two metres away from your bed, yet you find yourself inching backwards because you cannot predict what it would (or could) do to you.

Then it lifts an arm that reaches out to you, darkness flowing like steam off its limbs as it gets closer to you. But just before it can touch you, a flash of brightness interrupts your interaction.

“Stop.”

Your room is brightly lit up for a split second, blinding you from seeing the shadow. So when your eyes come back into focus, your eyes are about to fall out of your skull when you recognise the back of someone you know.

Hyunjae was standing right next to your bed, between you and the shadow, now visibly a physical blob of darkness.

“You have no business here with her. You don’t even need to be here.”

Silence.

Hyunjae looks at the shadow intently. He is listening to it talk to him, but you hear nothing but the crickets chirping outside.

“Jang Jun Hyuk will be mine to deal with, not yours. You do not need to be here.”

Lee Hyunjae... just what are you?

“Seer but is she a...”

“What did you just say?” You blurt out when the strange croak gets to your head. Hyunjae flinches and turns around to look at you, eyes flickering with worry before turning back to the shadow.

Now, you can see blue orbs for eyes and skin pulled and stretched like it had been worn out through hundreds of years. It was neither a ghost nor human.

It didn’t look like Lee Eun or the elderly man you saw when you were 8, nor did it look like the female demon you saw at 13.

“Leave, you do not belong here.”

“To deserves she know.”

“Know what?” Impatience and fear was getting the better of you, and if Hyunjae was more than human, he would know. “...That I can see you?”

“No, she cannot know!” Hyunjae tries to block you from the ghoul. “That is not your place to tell her!”

The ghoul proves more powerful than Hyunjae and reaches right through him, creating a bright outline of his limb through Hyunjae’s chest.

“No!”

That was the last thing you hear just as the shadow touches your forehead, snapping your neck backwards and sending your memory into a dimension you cannot recognise.

“You will be blessed with eternal protection.”

That was the blessing the elderly man offered you when you were eight. Little did you know that he was merely reading a blessing pinned to your existence on its own.

"The son of Saint Michael had fallen in love with the fairy of the mortals. Saint Michael hadn’t offered the tiniest bit of worry or concern over his son becoming star-crossed lovers. Angels were meant to be with angels and fairies with fairies... Granted that even if you did know about his son’s feelings, you would eventually realise that it was against the laws of the world, for you were a gateway for the Good to seep into the mortal world. But what Saint Michael did not know was that the fairy his son had fallen in love with had stored the same amount of love he had for her in his heart.”

“The Heavens forbid star-crossed lovers between the two breeds of beings. Saint Michael himself couldn’t believe it when his son caved into his feelings right after you did. Fairies were fickle-minded; the only beings of the world of immortals that once walked the Earth as human beings. It was expected that you would provide the same love to the Archangel’s son -- but when he decided to embrace you in his all-gold halo of light... Saint Michael knew he could not afford losing the bearings of his son. He had decided that mortalising you would be a smart decision; keeping you close by letting you protect your ability to connect with this world but restraining you from ever returning to Hyunjae’s side.”

“Yet, like mortals, even immortal beings are unable to fight the strength of love. Hyunjae had decided descend to the world of the Humans and Mortals... to protect you by your side in your second life, allowing you to see him, touch him.”

The day you were reborn was the day Hyunjae had decided to humanise himself, albeit the process was draining and set him on a ticking clock from returning to the other world.

The ghoul looks at you, his blue eyes now revealing himself as a fairy who had disguised himself, in a bid to warn you before you had sold your heart to Hyunjae, something you cannot be with.

“You are paying the price for a fault that was his, do you not bear any resentment?”

The memories return. Flashes of Hyunjae smiling at you because he knew you could see him. The kisses that stained his skin because you were a mere mortal with abilities, and he was a being that was meant for more.

“How is this his fault?”

The fairy is silent, thinking of the words to say.

“Had he lived up to the responsibilities of being the son of Saint Michael, he wouldn’t have caved in.”

Your hair feels light around your shoulders, watching the fairy slowly morph into something less ambiguous.

“What would have happened if we didn’t fall in love in my first life?”

The fairy had grown wings that looks like glass, reflecting light into seven colors into the abyss beyond you. He looks at you, blue eyes never faltering.

“You would’ve become an Undine Fairy, and Hyunjae would’ve had to return to the world of the Skies--”

“And I would never see him again.”

He can see that you’ve had a glimpse into your past life; the forbidden love you had for Hyunjae now buried deep inside you. It feels like someone had just stuck a shovel 6 feet into your heart and dug out every remnant he could find.

“Would you have let him go, had he been true to his existence and you had become an Undine?”

“There’s no way I can answer that, can I?”

The fairy blinks and starts walking backwards. “The rules between the two Worlds are forged in stone, but everybody knows that the matters of the spirit and soul cannot be bound by tangible logic. Your choice depends on what you believe: will you choose to believe what you see or what you feel?”

The question echoes inside your head, and the world around you flashes brightly like you had just died and walked into heaven.

Your consciousness returns to current time, eyes fluttering open as your alarm clock rings you awake. Sitting opposite you, eyes closed as you watch him snoozing lightly despite sitting in a chair, you feel a pinch in your chest.

It’s not his fault, and never will be.

#hyunjae imagines #the boyz #the boyz hyunjae #hyunjae #the boyz imagines #the boyz fanfic #the boyz scenario #tbz imagines

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lupin-for-president · 4 years ago

Text

Pretty Pink Paper

(Jeddy)

—

James Sirius knew it was foolish, falling in love with his blue-haired best friend, who also happened to be seven whole years older than him. It was the type of situation that would only end up hurting James in the end, he knew that better than anyone.

But he just couldn’t help it.

It was impossible for him not to fall in love Teddy—especially with the way Teddy acted around him. The way Teddy spoke to him. The way Teddy touched him. The way Teddy smiled at him. The way Teddy looked at him.

Teddy treated James like he was the most important person on the entire earth.

And James drank it up like honey.

Everything about Teddy was so addicting to him. There wasn’t a single thing about the scrawny little punk that James didn’t wholeheartedly love and adore.

The way Teddy always laughed —a little too hard— when James would be the one to tell him a cheesy joke.

How Teddy would always match his eye color to his outfit and make sure to ask James’ opinion on it before leaving the house.

The way Teddy’s nose would scrunch up whenever James would be applying his blush and eyeliner for him, muttering a “Hold still, Ted” as he held the cap between his teeth.

How Teddy’s arms felt draped loosely over James as he leaned over to show the boy how to play a certain piano chord correctly.

The way Teddy would struggle to stay awake throughout an entire movie —no matter the time of day— and always ended up falling asleep on James’ shoulder.

How Teddy would use any spare minute of his free time to teach James more new tricks to do on his broom so that he could impress his friends.

The way Teddy would stick out his lip —and beg and plead— until James finally caved in and played with or braided his hair, Teddy smiling smugly at the tiny victory.

How everytime Teddy was upset, the first person he would go to would be James, and he would bury his face into his chest and cry until he felt better.

The way Teddy would interrupt James’ reading by running into his room and playing air guitar while singing at the top of his lungs.

How Teddy made a chocolate cupcake for James’ birthday every single year —refusing help from anyone else in the house— and ended up burning it each and every time.

The way Teddy ruffled a hand through James’ messy brown hair every time he walked past him, flashing him a cheeky closed eye grin as he did so.

How Teddy was always there, no matter what.

It wasn’t James’ fault that he fell in love with Teddy. It was the cruel fault of the universe for having put someone so exceptionally perfect into his life, then expecting him not to be affected by it.

It was James’ fault, however, that Teddy happened to find out about these feelings.

Teddy shouldn’t have been sneaking around in James’ room, sure, but James was the one that had forgotten to put the old, tattered brown shoebox back in its hiding place under his bed.

That exact brown shoebox was the very gateway to the most extreme form of embarrassment that James Sirius had ever had the displeasure of facing throughout his entire sixteen years of life.

It was the shoebox full of his love letters, all of which were —very blatantly— addressed to Teddy.

He had just celebrated his birthday a week prior and he was more than thrilled to be lounging at home during his summer break from Hogwarts. He and Teddy had been basically inseparable since the beginning of summer —not that that was anything new— and James was genuinely very happy.

That is, until he came back up to his room from having grabbed a plate of cookies in the kitchen, only to find Teddy —sitting on the edge of James’ bed, a brown shoebox in his lap, and pink slips of paper in his hands— with furrowed brows and his lip tucked between his teeth.

Teddy hadn’t heard James come in at first. In fact, he didn’t even know he had entered the room until the sound of glass shattering pierced through the air, James having dropped his plate full of cookies due to the sudden trembling of his hands.

A small piece of James was hoping —praying— to whatever gods above that maybe Teddy hadn’t really read any of the letters at all. But from the wide eyed, red faced look that Teddy gave him upon getting caught, what little hope James had flickering inside him was immediately distinguished.

He felt sick, nauseous, and insanely lightheaded as he bolted out of the door, making a beeline for the bathroom. A singe of pain surged up from the bottom of his foot as he realized he had stepped on a shard of the broken plate during his hasty escape, but he didn’t dare pause to check it.

He could hear the heavy footsteps following quickly after him —and the faint shouting, too— though it was muffled from the pounding of his heartbeat ringing in his eardrums. As soon as he made it to the bathroom, he shut the door and pushed his foot up against it, turning the lock just in time to be greeted by a chorus of loud banging.

“Jamie! Jamie, open up!” Teddy shouted from the other side, hands bashing against the wood.

James couldn’t answer due to him falling to his knees in front of the toilet and emptying out the contents of what was —most likely— his breakfast from earlier. He didn’t stop hurling until there was absolutely nothing left, his forehead drenched in sweat as he panted to catch his breath.

“Open the door, Jamie! Come on, it’s me. Just open the door, we can talk this out!” Teddy blurted, his hard knocks not missing a beat.

“Go away,” James answered back weakly, his voice strained.

Rivers were trailing down his cheeks now, dripping into the corners of his cracked lips. As the sobs wracked through his body, he pulled his knees up firm against his chest, fingers digging deep into his upper arms as he tried to calm himself down. A small pool of blood started forming under his right foot from the cut, which only caused his blood pressure to spike even more as he glanced down at it.

It had been a while since he had experienced a panic attack that was this bad. It had actually been almost a full year, in fact.

Normally, the only thing that would successfully calm him down was if Teddy cupped his face firmly in his hands and whispered countless soothing words to him as he forced him to maintain eye contact. Teddy would always constantly switch the color of his irises —sometimes even making them swirl— in order to make James’ attention focus on anything else but the initial cause of the attack.

But this time, Teddy was the cause of it.

And now James was having to calm himself back down all on his own.

And it wasn’t working.

And he couldn’t breathe.

And his chest hurt so bad.

And all he could think of was the sight of Teddy.

Brown shoebox sitting in his lap.

Pink slips of paper in his hands.

Reading each and every one of James’ sinful and foolish desires.

And the thought of Teddy being absolutely disgusted with James for even daring to think about him in even the slightest bit of a romantic way plagued James’ poor mind.

It was all too much.

And the world felt like it was spinning.

And the only thing keeping him rooted was the pain from his nails digging into his skin and the sound of Teddy’s worried screams.

It felt like it went on for hours.

But that’s because it did.

Ginny finally came home from training four hours later to find a shaking and stressed Teddy, tear tracks tattooing his flushed cheeks as he hysterically explained what had happened and how he had tried to use a spell to unlock the bathroom door but that he couldn’t even think straight enough to use it and James had been quiet for a long time now and he was so bloody worried that he had done something while locked in there by himself and he couldn’t break into the bathroom to check on him and his mind was reaming with the worst possibilities and—

Ginny cut him off with a hug, giving his torso a quick squeeze before pulling back and asking which bathroom James had locked himself in. Teddy shakily informed her it was the guest bathroom on the second floor, and the two of them raced up the stairs to see what could be done.

Of course, Ginny was able to cast the spell perfectly on her first try —it was a spell she had learned in her first year at Hogwarts after all— and the pair both let out the greatest sigh of relief when the door creaked open to reveal a sleeping James, seemingly unharmed apart from the gash on the bottom of his foot.

Ginny crouched down beside him, pressing a hand to his forehead gently before brushing away some of the hair in his eyes.

Teddy recognized that helpless and drained look of James’ unconscious body instantly. It was a look only he was exceptionally familiar with. He had seen it quite often —more often than he would like— whenever he would cradle James after he had tired himself out from an attack, immediately falling asleep against Teddy’s chest. Teddy was always the one there to make everything better.

But this time, that wasn’t the case.

“It’s all my fault,” Teddy whispered, his voice raw, “This is all my fault.”

“Teddy, honey, no,” Ginny shook her head, standing up to place a hand on Teddy’s flushed cheek. “It was an accident. You didn’t know what was going to be in that box.”

“It doesn’t matter what was in the fucking box,” he breathed, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have been snooping through his stuff anyways. If I hadn’t, then he wouldn’t have caught me, and then he wouldn’t have had a panic attack without anyone here to—”

“Teddy,” Ginny cut him off, “We can play the blame game later, alright?”

“But—”

“No.” She shook her head. “Not right now. Please, can you just carry James to his room? Then you need to go get some rest, too. Before Harry comes home with questions as to what’s going on with his sons.”

Teddy stared at her for a moment before nodding, stepping around her and towards James’ sleeping form.

Regardless of being a grown man, he still found himself always listening to Ginny’s orders, no matter what.

He knelt down and looped an arm under James’ legs, his other wrapping securely around his back. He rose to his feet slowly, not wanting to wake the snoozing boy in his arms. Much to his surprise, James subconsciously buried his face into the front of Teddy’s sweater, releasing an incomprehensible string of murmurs before relaxing in Teddy’s arms once again.

Teddy nearly started crying again right there.

He silently brushed past Ginny and down the hallway, towards James’ bedroom. Upon entering, he made sure to stay clear of the broken glass littering the doorway.

He laid James down in bed gently, pulling his wand out of his back pocket and waving it strategically at the wound on James’ foot, watching as it immediately scarred up, all traces of blood vanishing. He then turned towards the broken plate and crumbled cookies on the floor, flicking his wand to gather the remnants up and —ever so gracefully— discarding them into the trash can.

Running a hand through his bright blue hair, he turned back to James, his eyes trailing all across his young, peaceful face. He tugged the blankets up over his sleeping form, tucking him in nice and warm. Brushing his fingertips along James’ forehead, Teddy leant down, moving the messy brown curls away to expose his smooth tan skin.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered —hardly above a whisper— as his lips ghosted against James’ forehead, “I am so sorry, James Sirius.”

When he pulled away, the cause of this entire dilemma caught in the corner of his eye. The brown shoebox that was still placed on the corner of James’ bed. Teddy knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but to reach out for it anyways, his hand diving in and grabbing the first piece of pretty pink paper that was sitting right on top.

All at once, Teddy felt his world shatter as his eyes took in the messy scrawl. He even had to place a hand over his mouth to muffle the sob that threatened to break through, a single tear descending from the corner of his eye.

The last part of the love letter read:

“One of these days you’re going to find all of these, and I need you to promise me something when that time comes. Please, don’t blame yourself for the attack I have afterwards, because I can assure you it isn’t your fault.”

Teddy shoved the note into his pocket before closing the box and sliding it back under James’ bed. Sending one last glance to his sleeping best friend, he silently left the room, doing his best not to blame himself for everything that had happened.

Just like James had asked.

#do you want the slightly less sad part two?#this is my most favorite thing i have ever written #honestly starting to like jeddy just as much as i like wolfstar #theyre just so fuckin cute #james sirius x teddy #teddy lupin #teddy x james #james sirius potter #edward remus lupin #harry potter next gen fic #harry potter next generation #hp next gen #teddy lupin x james Potter #jeddy headcanon #jeddy #jeddy fic #jeddyfest

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bloodys44 · 4 years ago

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Silence and Cigarette Smoke

Original story and bonus content found here! ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

I just posted chapter 9 on FF.net so please feel free to read ahead if you enjoy :)

Chapter 6: The Letters To A Ghost

788

(25th day of summer)

Mom,

I helped Natsu dig a grave for Lissana today. He was extremely adamant about it even though we were never able to retrieve her body. Not to mention that we already held a service for her weeks ago. He dug it by hand at her favorite lookout, told me he wanted her soul to rest where she would never miss the sun rise or set. The headstone he made her read "An angel who falls may now pass to the home of their gods. A forever sunrise to lighten the lives of the dark." It was beautiful Mama, Natsu worked really hard on it.

He didn't sleep in my dorm last night for the first time since we came home. I went by his room to check on him but I heard him crying. In all the years I've known Natsu, I've only seen that once, when we lost her initially. He sounded so sad, It broke my heart. I was too scared to go in so I left him for the night. I really miss her too.

Remembering your warm hugs,

Lucy.

(86th day of summer)

Dear Mom,

Today was really hard, I miss you.

It's been two months since I last wrote to you. Natsu went out on his first job since Lissana today. He wouldn't take me with him no matter how much I begged. He's never left me behind before, I know it was only one job, but it still stung. He barely speaks anymore, just follows me around silently. I feel like I'm losing my partner. Gray and Levy say I need to give him time and space, that he likes to grieve alone. I get that Mama, I really do, but he isn't the only one grieving. I feel like he died with her in the mine. I miss him too.

He still gave me some of the reward money even though he did the request alone. I wish he wouldn't, it feels like pitty. I don't want his pity, I just want to talk to him like I used too.

Mira is still having nightmares. I've been sleeping on the terrace by my room. Her crying breaks my heart and I fear it will never heal if I keep listening.

This was a bad letter, sorry Mom,

Lucy.

(43rd day of fall)

Mom,

I almost destroyed grandmother Anna's book today. The sight of it turns my stomach, and I haven't been able to open it yet. Natsu wouldn't let me ruin it though, he told me if it was gone the whole trip would be worth nothing. He's right, I know. I just want the hurt to stop.

Fall is here now, I love how the grounds look with all the autumn colors. Though I miss the pink cherry blossoms, they remind me of Natsu's hair, but I think his shade is fading too. He stresses too much. I think you would still like it.

Love always,

Lucy.

(58th day of winter)

Mama,

Today was good. It was Juvia's birthday. The guild held a small party for her, it was perfect considering the mourning mood that's dulled the air. There were smiles and cake, and everybody was laughing again, just like old times, I loved it. Gray asked her to be his girlfriend, finally. I think that's the part she loved the most. They're leaving on a mission that's supposed to take around four months. Knowing her, Juvia will treat every second like an extended honeymoon. She really was ecstatic mama, I wish you could have seen the joy on her face. I think everyone could feel it, I even saw Mira dancing slowly in the corner with her husband Laxus. She hasn't left her room since we told her what happened. I hope she's starting to feel like herself again. It's almost the new year, so maybe things will start to get better for everyone.

Natsu didn't show, of course. He hasn't been around much lately. He's always working alone or hiding around the castle where I can't find him, not even at our special clearing in the forest, the one he found me in. That's where he always used to hide. I haven't spoken much more than a sentence to him in weeks. I really miss him. Even with the happiness of today, I feel really alone again. He doesn't stay the night with me anymore.

Lucy.

(64th day of winter)

Dear Mom,

Gray and Juvia left on their job this morning. We all went down to the gate to wave them off. Even Natsu showed up, rare but welcomed. Gray is his best friend, and even though they haven't talked much either, I think he's going to miss him.

I asked Natsu if he wanted to take a job with me. It's been a while and I'm running out of money and I refuse to accept any more of his. I keep having to pick up extra shifts with the infirmary to keep up with my guild fees. He said no. I got mad and stormed off like a child.

He came to my room later in the night for the first time in months. I thought he was coming to tell me he changed his mind, that he wanted to take a request with me, though it ended up being the exact opposite. He came in yelling, spouting off that he couldn't take me on a job because I couldn't protect myself and he wasn't capable of doing it either. He rambled on for almost an hour, he's never yelled at me before, and mama he was screaming. But I decided I really didn't mind, its the most I've heard him speak in months. It wasn't near as bad as father used to make it. I was just happy to hear his voice again.

Merry Christmas,

Lucy.

-789-

(74th day of winter)

Mama,

He's gone.

He really did it. He left me alone for real. And god Mama, winter is so cold without him.

He visited me last night, I woke to him sitting at the end of my bed. It startled me since he hadn't been back to my room since he came in yelling. He looked so sad, his lips were pressed together like he was scared to speak the words trapped in his head. He crawled up beside me, just sitting there staring as if he could see right through me. He was so close, I could feel the heat of his breath over my nose. His eyes so dark they blended with the night. Eventually, I tried to ask him what was wrong, but he didn't answer, instead, he leaned in closer. He tried to kiss me, but I moved away. I really couldn't believe it, that he would have the audacity to try something like that after months without so much as a word. This visit was my turn to yell. I said things I would have never imagined saying to him, to my favorite person alive.

I went to his room later, I felt so bad for how I had spoken to him, I wanted to apologize. When I got there his room was empty, mattress stripped clean and drawers pulled open and bare. I think he was trying to kiss me goodbye. I'm so scared he won't come back Mama. I think he really did die that day in the mine.

Lucy.

(76th day of spring)

Hey Mom,

Gray and Juvia came back today, half a month early. They ran into some trouble, a man with metal clawed gloves dipped in some sort of poison. Gray's okay, but Juvia is really sick. He says she hasn't woken for three days. He's really worried about her, I can tell from the way his hands shake. He hasn't left her bedside all day. It's sweet, but it reminded me of Natsu. I miss when he used to spend the night.

I haven't heard from him, not even a letter. I hope he's okay.

Love from your dearest,

Lucy.

(86th day of spring)

Dear Mom,

Spring always reminds me of you, I remember how much it was your favorite, even though I always preferred summer. I miss when we strolled the garden together and the only thing to worry about was not fraying my gown or scuffing my shoes.

Juvia still hasn't woken up yet, and I think Gray is starting to panic. He's going on lots of jobs, says he can't stay on the grounds too long or he starts to worry about her. I offered to be his new 'in-term' partner while he waits for her to get better. I really need to make some more money, and I don't think Natsu is coming back anytime soon.

We leave tomorrow morning and I'm kind of excited, I've never been on a job without Natsu before. I think it'll be a good chance to prove myself. I just hope this doesn't make me miss him any more than I already do.

Love,

Lucy.

(32nd day of summer)

Mama,

Working with Gray has been really nice. He's actually a lot more kind and sweet then his cold persona would suggest. I think I can see why Juvia likes him so much. Gray listens, he's a good holder of information, a place to vent. He's held me while I cried and talked me through my nonsense brain. Sometime's he even shares his cigarettes with me. He's a really good guy, and I can see how much he loves Juvia. I really hope she wakes up soon, Porlyusica started warning of impairments the longer she's unconscious.

I'm glad Gray has been so good to me, it's nice having a friend to talk too again. I know Levy's here too, but she's always busy with guild work. The rest of the members are all amazing and accepting but it's just not the same. I hope he doesn't forget about me, or how close we've gotten when Juvia wakes up.

I'm really worried about Natsu. Mira says he's never been gone this long without at least a letter. I've been reading as many of Fiore's damage and crime reports as I can get my hands on. I pray that all the flame-related incidents are him. It gives me hope that he's alive.

Lucy.

(84th day of summer)

Hi Mom,

It's been a really long time, Summer's almost over now.

Please Mama, don't judge me. I think I made a mistake. Gray and I went too far, we slept together. I gave him all my firsts, and I think he gave me some of his. I regret it all, and I can tell he does too. We had an awful day, our mission was a complete failure. We spent the night at some shabby inn, the bed smelled like rot but we honestly didn't care. We both cried after and pretended we couldn't hear one another. Juvia's been in a coma for almost half a year. I think he's trying to process the thought of actually losing her. I swear I could taste sadness on his lips. I think we're both grieving the loss of someone significant.

I thought about Natsu the entire time, I could picture all his scars over Gray's skin. I pretended his icy breath smelt of cinnamon and ash. It's been so long, but I still think about him every minute. I wish he had been the first to touch me. I love Gray, I really do, but not like that. My body feels dirty even after scrubbing my skin raw.

I can't pick out any damage or crime reports that I could even remotely relate to Natsu, and his mattress doesn't smell like him anymore either. I sleep there every night. If he's with you Mama, please take care of him.

I love you, so much,

Lucy.

(49th day of fall)

Dear Mom,

I asked Gray if he thought I should dig a metaphorical grave for Natsu. He told me I was crazy, said he would know if that 'cocky fire pit went out'. I hope he's right. We don't talk about what happened. Ever. We just pretend it never did.

I've been studying telepathy, and I'm getting pretty good. And yes, I learned it from great grandmother's book. I finally opened it. I feel dirty knowing the thoughts of my teammates sometime's so I don't use it often, however, my new favorite trick is dream diving. I do it to Gray when we're out on missions and he's gone to bed for the night. I hope he doesn't feel violated, his dreams aren't very interesting anyway. The only constant is the cold. Don't ask me how somebody dream's in temperatures, he just does.

Other time's though, I try to reach Natsu. I'm not really sure how far my range is and I have no reason to believe it could ever reach him. I still try though.

Lucy.

(73rd day of fall)

Mama,

Juvia woke up. I'm not sure if this is good or bad news. She's unresponsive, constantly staring at the ceiling. Porlyusica says there's a good chance of more function after a few days. But the sight of her, so sunken and lifeless is nothing less than disturbing. It's shattering Gray's heart, and watching it shatters mine. He won't eat, it's been four days. I don't want to lose another friend. This year has been the worst.

Job requests are coming in fewer and fewer, all of Fiore is under such a heated eye. Royal guards on every corner, in every continent. It's nerve-racking to hire mages while under constant watch, and nearly impossible for said mages to complete missions unsaved. The streets are war zone's, the anti-magic forces haven't been this strong since the initial banning or the day you died. One day, I want to fix it, this awful divide of man and man. I tell myself your death wasn't for nothing. I hope nobody dies for nothing. Too much of valuable human life is wasted. Humanity is cruel I suppose.

Your's truly,

Lucy.

(50th day of Winter)

Mom,

A very merry Christmas to you, and to Natsu. I hope he's with you and not lost in the stars. Things have been getting better. Juvia is up and talking, she can even walk around a bit with a sturdy shoulder from Gray. My heart hasn't felt relief like this in far too long, I feel like it could burst. I couldn't help but cry when I saw Gray smile again. All it took was Juvia's mangled stutter of his name. It was such a pure smile, like he had decided to donate his soul to her. I don't blame him, Juvia is an amazing woman. I feel like I stabbed her in the back and I don't think the guilt for my excursion with Gray will ever go away. I wonder if he plans to tell her. I thought about doing it myself, but it feels unfair to confess how another tried to mend their grieving heart.

It's almost been an entire year since he left. I don't think I really believe that he's dead but sometime's it's easier to lie about it. Natsu showed me a whole new world, took my hand and cherished me with such open arms. I can deny it all I want, but I know I fell in love with him, his every feature is burned against the inside of my skull. If he really is gone, I won't forget him, but I think I'll be okay eventually.

Sending you love filled with holiday warmth,

Lucy.

Original story and bonus content found here! ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

#natsu #natsu dragneel #lucy #lucy heartfilia #Nalu #nalu fanfic #nalu fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser

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barnesandco · 4 years ago

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The Greater Good

Carrying the shield isn’t an easy job; it often requires a great deal of sacrifice, and that can be difficult for Bucky to come to terms with.

Based on the “Where’s my supersuit?” scene from The Incredibles.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo 2020. Word count: 2044. Square filled: “Free Space”

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Mentions of injury, wounds, blood. Mentions of drinking alcohol. Mild angst, slight separation anxiety.

A/N: Idk what to say, y’all. I wish I had the decency to apologize for writing a fic I’ll probably regret posting instead of working on my WIPs, one of which is on hiatus bc I’m a lazy jerk, but such is life. Blame The Incredibles (which I’ve never seen -- I’m not sorry) and @samingtonwilson 's anon. Also, while you're there, go check out Taal's masterlist because she's an incredibly (pun intended) talented, amazing, fantastic writer and every. single. one. of her stories is a must-read.

Honeysuckle and mango, the scented candles on each bedside table flicker in the light breeze drifting through the open window, a sea of dark ink dotted with stars visible beyond. Late summer is cooling into autumn, and the leaves of the tree that shades their bedroom on hot days is slowly turning into an early shade of yellow-orange, that glints in the glow of streetlights to remind Bucky of the specks of gold that set Sam’s eyes alight like a September sunset. It’s been two weeks since Bucky’s seen those eyes, two weeks he's been awake before dawn with more worry than he knows how to run off.

He’s due back today, his husband, after a fortnight of radio silence thanks to a stake-out in the Canadian wilderness, in wait for a lucrative arms deal to occur, and for the team of Avengers to prevent. The mission had been called a day after Bucky broke -- no, shattered -- his arm during a drug bust in California, thereby disqualifying him from participation, and sentencing him to this torturous wait. A wait that has now, finally, come to an end. Almost.

Bucky lets out a quiet sigh on his way back to the kitchen. Placing a second plate of homemade ravioli and the necessary utensils on a tray table, he returns to the bedroom, putting his food next to where Sam’s waits patiently. Wrings both hands, one made of metal, and the other with a cast on it. Any minute now, he thinks, pulling out the first aid kit from under the bed and putting it on the dresser, ready to use under the bright glow of the lamp next to it. The room is filled with soft light, the smell of pasta, and the ache of Bucky’s heart as he tries to quell the unreasonable nerves that tug at his diaphragm.

Nearly a year of falling asleep with the feel of Sam’s wedding band under the stroking of his thumb, nearly two of being intimately familiar with the texture of his lips, and nearly three of being perfect partners in combat and good friends out of it, yet Sam still makes him nervous. A good nervous, the flutter of nerves in his belly, Bucky determines as he paces the hallway, stopping in front of the mirror to push his hair back. Maybe he’ll ask Sam to cut it tomorrow, once he’s recovered. From his wounds and Bucky’s... affections.

The thought has only just crossed Bucky’s mind when the tap of boots alerts him to someone’s presence at the door. Keys jingle, but he’s too quick, already unlocking the door and throwing it open as Sam lifts his hand to the lock, where it, and the rest of him, freezes at the sight of Bucky, cheeks dusted with a rosy pink already.

Words stay unspoken, and the sentiment of longing, of unimaginable relief is transferred directly from Bucky’s mouth to Sam’s. His metal arm rises to grip Sam’s suit-clad waist, and Sam’s gloved hands cradle Bucky’s head gently, so at odds with the pressure with which he seeks to draw forth pleasure. Soon, the kiss turns to open mouths, just resting over each other, elevated breaths colliding in the margin of air between them. Bucky breaks away with a sigh, arms around Sam, and forehead against his, eyes closed.

“I missed you, too, Bucky.” Sam smiles, split lip rasping over over Bucky’s, and he pulls back to look at him. Keeps ahold of his hand as he leads him to their room -- taking note of his limp -- and silently begins to peel the suit off his husband’s tired, burdened shoulders. Sam’s sees the trays on the bed and raises an eyebrow at him in question, but Bucky’s spotted the gauze covering the lower left side of his ribs.

“You were shot,” Bucky says lowly, kneeling, and bringing the first aid kit with him to the floor, unfortunately too used to this sort of thing to really be fazed by it. Besides, he doesn’t want to waste any time chewing Sam out for getting hurt, not when he can be sitting next to him with good food and even better laughter, something sorely needed after ages of quiet. He’ll allow the delay in those plans for their evening just enough to redress the wound that has started to bleed through the bandages.

Sam shrugs with the confident nonchalance of someone who knows he isn’t getting told off. “It happens,” he says with a grin. “What’s with dinner in bed?”

“Thought you’d be more comfortable,” Bucky answers. “And we can get down to business quicker,” he quips, ignoring the scoff elicited, as they’re both well aware that Sam’s in no condition for such at the moment.

While Bucky starts cleaning the blood that has seeped out through his staples, Sam takes off the light chain that carries his wedding band, and puts the ring back in its rightful place, on his fourth finger. By the time he’s reached for a shirt in the dresser next to him, Bucky’s done, and he stands so Sam can lean on him while he puts on his favorite pair of sweatpants.

“Hurry up, old man, the food’s goin’ cold and I worked real hard on it,” Bucky says, getting Sam settled in so he’s leaning on the pillows against the headboard, and pours him wine.

Sam’s eyes widen, shocked. “Old? You’re one to talk.”

“At least I can walk straight,” Bucky retorts, and Sam gestures towards his stomach.

“I was shot.”

“And whose fault is that?” Bucky jokes, and Sam’s mouth snaps shut, his shoulders shudder to contain the building amusement, until they both burst into laughter. Bucky watches Sam’s eyes scrunch tightly shut as he laughs, and he lets the sound spill into his soul like an essence of life. It’s been a while since he heard it, and it sounds just as sweet, as effulgent, as he recalls.

Recovering from the outburst, Sam breathes slowly, trying not to laugh again. “Okay, alright, I’m sorry. You’re not old, you’re just--” he bites his lip, and Bucky tries not to wince in anticipation of the wound on his lip reopening. “-- mature.” He smirks at him, and Bucky rolls his eyes, putting another piece of ravioli in his mouth. The room goes quiet, and they relish the food and each other’s company. Bucky drinks in the content, relaxed features of Sam’s face. He’s radiating goodness, and that energy that can only be described as unapologetically Sam.

The golden, shining bubble of a moment is burst by Sam’s phone ringing outside, from the chest of drawers in the entrance, and Sam gives him a look, before going to retrieve it. Bucky recognizes the Captain-voice Sam’s using on the phone, making the gears start to turn in his head, a process that results in him going to pick up the shield lying next to the bed, and hiding it behind their tuxedos, the ones they wore to their wedding, in the closet. Luckily for him, Sam’s call ends just as he’s gotten back to bed, half-eaten plate of pasta in front of him like he never moved.

Bucky’s gut instinct was right. Nobody could have any reason for calling Sam at this hour with the exception of Nick Fury. “Robbery on 9th ave. They’re using Chitauri energy cores,” he says, pulling off the loungewear and putting the suit back on. Zip, boots, gloves, and then--

“Where’s my shield?” He asks, turning to look around the room. “I put it right here.” Sam looks at Bucky and he averts his gaze.

“I don’t know,” he says, entirely unconvincingly, and Sam clenches his jaw in understanding, putting his hands on his hips in wait.

“Bucky.”

Bucky traces the gold veins running along his metal arm. “What?”

“I need my shield,” Sam says softly, stepping forward.

“Why?” It’s Bucky’s turn to put his hands on his hips, and Sam throws his in the air in frustration. Bucky tries to avoid thinking about the veins that protrude along his neck at the movement. This is not the time, Barnes, focus.

“Why? What do you mean, why?”

“Ask them to send someone else! I've been waiting to see you for two weeks. You can't just leave again.” But Sam’s already on his way to the closet, rummaging, searching first through an unhealthy amount of running shoes -- Bucky’s new vice -- and then his outrageous collection of compression t-shirts.

“The public is in danger, Bucky,” he says, voice muffled from the closet.

"My evening is in danger," he replies, crosses his arms and leans in the doorway.

“Come on, man. I have to go. For the greater good and all.” He looks up from the underwear drawer to send a pleading expression Bucky’s way, and Bucky fixes his glare on a spot on the wall above Sam’s head. Aims his next words at that spot, too.

"”I'm your husband. I'm the greatest good you're ever going to get,” Bucky responds sharply, but Sam continues searching, and soon, Bucky drops the act. “You're injured, Sammy. You're not well enough to go,” he says, pushing off where he’s leaning and stepping forward. Somehow, he lets his arms uncross and clench slowly at his sides, fists that he works to reopen, feeling the stretch of tendons accompany the strain in his voice. Sam helps, taking a hand in each of his, thumb sliding over the base of each of his fingers. The knuckles of his broken arm are covered in plaster, and the metal one whirrs, almost purring.

“Bucky, look,” Sam says, voice so quiet it’s like he’s relaying a secret in a crowded room, rather than an explanation in an empty one. “I know it's hard, and I'm sorry, but you know that this is what the job takes.” Bucky watches Sam press his mouth thinly together, tries to ignore the logic he knows is present in his partner’s words, but Bucky was never one for ignorant bliss. He’s making an ineffectual effort to suppress the natural conscious that’s telling him to send Sam off, and it isn’t sustainable. “I'll be back before you know it.” Sam’s smooth, low timbre pierces the conflict Bucky is striving to resolve, and the turmoil, the unreasonable bid to restrain Sam from leaving settles like dust after a sandstorm.

Sam’s hands tighten around Bucky’s and he can feel the pulse in them, in the safe, warm skin the touch of which is his home, the surface that brings him back to Earth no matter where his head is going. However, now, Bucky lets go, and retrieves Sam shield. Gives it to him without another word, and accepts the grateful nod of thanks.

He’s almost to the door, Bucky trailing a few steps behind -- resolutely brushing aside the analogy of lost puppies -- when he stops and turns. Gives Bucky a look that would be abstruse if not for years of conversation, of moments that enable Bucky to tell that Sam’s frown, the shine of his eyes, that anxious hand running along the edge of his shield, means only that he’s reluctant. Bucky’s hunch is proven right when Sam comes forward to stand toe-to-toe with him, eyes locked on his.

“Thank you. I’ll be home soon,” he says, leaning to place a kiss on his forehead. Just a touch, a whisper of reassuring force, before he’s moving away again, eye contact only broken when he leaves the threshold of their house, stepping outside.

Bucky holds the back door and watches him deploy his wings. Sam traces a flight path on his arm panel as Bucky looks on, watching the lights shine on his skin like shimmering topaz, beautiful, glowing, alive, and prays that he’ll return to him that way. Again.

Once he’s done reading mission details and ready to go, Sam looks up again, eyes dancing with mirth and adoration, the former of which he voices in a joke that is meant to disguise his concern for Bucky, even though he’s the one leaving for battle. “Don’t wait up for me. You need your rest, grandpa,” Sam calls, laughter trembling in his throat, taking off in a flash of red, white, and blue.

#ayesha writes #SSB2020 #sam wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sam wilson #sambucky #captain america #the falcon #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sam wilson fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #avengers #fluff #angst

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kyber-kisses · 4 years ago

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I, Alone

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: cursing, canon level gore, character death. . . angst.

Summary: when a simple hunt goes terribly wrong, y/n is the only person who can attempt to fix it. . .but at what cost?

A/n: had this idea rolling around for the past few days, if it gets enough likes I’ll write a six part story for it! Hope y’all enjoy and feedback is appreciated! I was also listening to Ashes by Claire Guerreso so if you really wanna vibe with this fic. . .

Pacing back and forth across the old frayed carpet of the run down motel you gnawed almost mindlessly are your nails, eyes darting across the darkened room to the two motel beds. The silhouettes of two bodies making your stomach churn. Your tears had long since dried on your cheeks, your energy drained to almost nothing.

It was never supposed to go like this.

It was supposed to be a simple hunt. Three hunters against a couple spirits. No big deal. Ghosts where practically a milk run case at this point in your career. . . So why did it end the way that it had?

You had to think of something. Anything to fix what had happened.

You paused your pacing at the foot of the nearest bed, eyes falling over the now cold corpse of one Dean Winchester. Through the darkness you could still easily make out the massive tears in his shirt, now darkened with drying blood. A few feet away his brother lay in a similar position, chest still and unmoving.

You wanted to cry, scream, anything to release all the emotions bubbling up inside you, but you remained stoic, too tired to even attempt a lone shriek.

They were gone. The closest thing you ever had gotten to a family now lay lifeless and cold on faded cotton sheets. Hazel and green eyes now permanently shut to this earthly plane-

No. No- quickly shaking the thoughts from your head you ran a bloody hand through your hair, sinking to the balls of your feet between the two mattresses.

“Please forgive me.” You whispered, popping back up on your heels and reaching for the impalas keys.

You had one card left to play, and damn if you weren’t going to use it.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Emotions were an annoying thing.

They always found a way of weaseling through the cracks in the walls you put up to keep yourself steady. They gnaw at your insides and make you lose control of what little you did have reined in. But right now you were trying harder than ever to force them back down your gullet.

This was for the best. . . Even if it meant giving up your days to make sure they had some left.

The countryside lay dark and quiet as you walked across the ground, boots crunching against gravel while you shifted the small box in your arms. The air was thick with the scent of yarrow flowers, almost to the point in which you believed you could wrap yourself in it. Jaw clenched like a shock absorber for your emotions you knelt down to place the old shoe box in the ground.

It almost seemed too simple- at least for something of this scale. The contents of the box rattled as you set it down. Grave dirt, the bones of a black cat and a picture of yourself. The three small ingredients that would cook up your fate.

Quickly burying the box, you said the words before waiting patiently. A soft summer breeze blew across the crossroads making a shiver crawl up your spine. You weren’t scared though. You were just eager to put things back together.

If Dean were here he would be telling you that you were blinded by grief, that you weren’t thinking straight. . . But then again if he were here you wouldn’t be doing this in the first place.

Dean was gone. He was laying lifeless in a cheap and darkened motel room next to his baby brother. . . But he wouldn’t be that way for long- not if you could help it.

Growing impatient, you threw back your head “You really gonna make me wait here all night?!”

“Careful Sugar, you’ll wake the neighbors.”

At the sound of the new voice you dropped your shoulders, spinning around on your heel to meet the black eyed gaze of the crossroad demon before you. Long black hair cascaded down her shoulders, red lips twisted up in an amused smirk.

“You normally keep people waiting like that?” Shoving your hands into the pockets of your coat, you took steady strides across the empty road towards her, showing her that you weren’t afraid.

“Only ones with an attitude like yours.” Tilting her head she stepped forward, heels grinding against the loose gravel as she circled you. “Now tell me, what is Nancy Drew doing all the way out here? I doubt the Hardy boys would be pleased to hear you’re out in the dark with a demon. . .” She paused, eyes scanning over your face. “That is unless they’re d-“

“I need you to bring them back.” Your words coming out sharp as you glared back at her, jaw still clenched.

“Oh and why would I do that? If the Winchesters are really dead- then it’s best for my species if they stay that way. Doesn’t make much sense to bring our biggest threat back onto the playing field.”

Taking a deep breath you continued to try and keep you emotions under lock, but unable to hide the waver in your voice. “Please. They’re all that I have.”

You watched her expression shift momentarily, pausing her steps to think. After what felt like an excruciatingly long minute, the corners of her lips turned up in a smirk.

“Alright, fine. I’ll bring back your precious Winchesters. . . But you will not be around to see it.”

You wish you could say you were shaken by her words, but wasn’t that the whole reason why you came out here in the first place? To pawn away your life in exchange for the people you loved most in this world?

“Fine by me. My soul is yours for the taking.”

“Oh I don’t want your soul.” She cooed, moving to drag a single perfectly manicured nail along your jaw. “Seeing as I am bring back the Winchesters of all people, I thought I would make it a little interesting.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that instead of marking your soul for hell, I’m going to strip all memories of you from their minds.” She explained, watching in amusement as your face fell. “They wont remember you and you will have to live the rest of your days knowing that.”

“Why?”

“Oh I think you should be able to piece that together for yourself. Yes I could always physically torture you in the pit- but mental torture is so much more fun.” She grinned. “That is the price if you want me to bring your beloved Dean Winchester back from the great beyond.”

Her last words successfully made you freeze, your entire body going rigid as your wall keeping your emotions back began to crack.

“Oh yes, I know about that too. It’s so easy to see in the way you look at him.” She cooed, clearly finding your pain amusing. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N. . . In love with the righteous man. Too bad he’ll never know.”

Push them back down Y/N, push your emotions back down. She’s trying to break you. Don’t let her.

“Deal.”

And with one quick step she had her lips against yours and your fate was set in stone.

“Oh, and best be gone before they wake up. You wouldn't want your deal to go bad so soon.”

*. *. *. *. *.

The air felt heavier from the moment you slid back out from behind the wheel of the impala. Maybe it was the fact that you knew it would be the last time you sat on the worn leather seats- or maybe it was just the utter weight of emotions still rising inside you.

Rolling the keys in your hand you slowly eased open the door to the motel room, stepping back into the poorly air conditioned space. You didn’t bother turning on the lights, the neon sign just beyond the moth eaten curtains illuminating the area just enough. All you had to do was grab your belongings and high tail it out of there before they woke up.

Quickly crossing the room, you placed the keys of the impala back on the nightstand where Dean had last left them before crossing over to the small table and haphazardly tossing all of your things into your duffel and shouldering it.

It was best if you moved quickly and didn’t dwell on your emotions. If you stopped you were sure to break. No second glances or momentary pauses. Eyes on the road ahead. Don’t look back.

Unfortunately you made it all of five steps to the door before that entire plan flew out the window. Your steps faltered and before you could stop yourself you were looking back over your shoulder at the occupied beds.

Even from your spot you could see that your deal was already taking affect. Their shirts were no longer in tatters and the blood was gone, almost as if it had never been there to begin with. In the dim light you could see the slow and steady rise of Deans chest telling you that he was alive. That’s he was okay. And that your work was now done.

Slowly sinking to sit on the side of the bed, you folded your hands, finding it difficult all of a sudden to look up. You had to say something- even if he couldn't hear you.

“Goodbyes are never easy, are they? And it isn’t easy to leave when it’s the only option available.” You words coming out in almost a whisper as you spoke. “I have so many things I want to say to you- but they fall short knowing that you won’t hear them.”

Another crack in your wall formed when you looked over at the relaxed facial expression on Dean, his eyelashes fluttering in his sleep. It was rare to see him this peaceful- this calm. But you drew comfort knowing you had helped make him that way.

The crack was enough to fill your eyes with tears. “And here I am having to say goodbye to the only person that I felt cared, the only person that I felt happy around.” You paused, finding the words stuck in your throat. “How am I supposed to just do that without feeling like I’ve lost a part of me?” Your voice finally cracking as you felt the first wave of hot tears run down your face. “All those times we would just laugh and talk and do normal things that normal people did- I had never been more happy.”

As much as you know it’s best for you, and him- and everyone you can’t ignore the inexplicable pain your carrying in your chest. Even though you want to hug him and stay by his side longer, you can’t. Waking up to a stranger would be a confusing feeling for him and a painful one for you.

“I never expected our lives to separate one day. We’ve known each other since we were kids.” You continued, delicately lacing your hand through his now warm one. “But I’ll never forget the moments you laughed with me, cried with me, helped me. . . And vice versa. But you’ll still have Sam and Cas. . . And in the end you’ll be okay.”

Pushing yourself up from the bed, you let go of his hand, using the back of it to wipe away the tears. Before you could walk towards the door though you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, paying no attention the the stray tear splashing down onto his face.

“Just know that whatever comes next, I love you.” Your whisper barely audible to your own ears. The words were pointless though. He wouldn’t hear them or remember them.

And before you could realize it you had your duffel back on your shoulder and you were slipping out the door. Leaving everything you called home behind.

Crossing through the almost empty parking lot you set your sights on the future. The next course of action was to hot wire a car and get back to the bunker. You still had belongings there that you needed to pack up before the brothers returned home.

Walking across the street you could feel the rough cracks in the asphalt through the soles of your boots, each steps feeling as though you had lead strapped to your feet. It was only when you reached the alleyway close ahead that you stopped once more, the magnetic pull of your family tightening around your core as you looked back, just in time to see shadows pass by the now lit up room you had just exited.

And the remaining pieces of the wall you had tried so desperately to fortify crumbled, taking you with it. A choked sob left your throat and your hand flew out to steady yourself of the brick wall- but the support didn’t last long before you knees buckled and you slid down the wall, sobbing into your hands just beyond reach of the nearest street lamp. Tears of both relief and anguish soaked your cheeks and you didn’t try to stop them.

They were alive. But you weren’t so sure about yourself.

SPN Taglist (Still open)

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @neerness @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler @heyyy-hey-babyyy @idksupernatural @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn x reader #bi-danvers writing #dean winchester series #dean winchester angst

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geraskier-hell · 5 years ago

Note

if that reblog was a permission for prompts, Geraskier #39 + #102 pretty please ❤️

Thank you so much for the ask! Read here or an AO3

Prompts: “Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?” and “I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.”

“So, guys, tell us what you’ve been up to these past ten years.”

Jaskier takes a gulp of his wine as he already regrets going to a reunion with his high school classmates. He was friendly with all of them but close with very few. If he has to be honest, he’s there only to see a certain someone, but they’ve been at the pub for twenty minutes and there’s still no sign of him. Whenever the door opens, his eyes automatically rise, but the continuous disappointment makes him question his hopes.

“I heard he’ll arrive a bit late,” Triss says next to him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jaskier replies, looking away from the pub’s entrance.

Triss gives him an eloquent look and turns to listen to the rest of the group. Jaskier curses himself for being so obvious and lame. Why is he even eager to see his high school boyfriend so much? There was a reason why they broke up, but right now it seems like it was a very stupid one, and all he can remember are the happy days spent together.

He pretends to pay attention to the people around him for another half an hour, glass always full, before the door opens again and he idly looks up, more out of habit than with real hope, but this time he is surprised, this time a man with white hair and a brooding aura enters into the pub and renders him speechless.

“We’re here, Geralt,” someone calls him, and the man looks towards them, nodding in acknowledgement as he makes his way to the table.

Everyone greets him and as per usual Geralt replies without enthusiasm. He hasn’t changed much since their high school days, he’s as hot as he was back then only with more muscles and a few more tattoos on his arms. Jaskier checks him out, safely hidden behind the rim of his glass, but as his eyes land on the fifteen people around the table, Geralt inevitably spots him.

He simply nods at him too, nothing that could imply a romantic relationship in the past, and Jaskier can’t help but be disappointed. He knows it’s silly of him to feel that way - in the end, they did break up - but he has always kept a special place in his heart for the times spent together with Geralt, and hoped the man had too.

The evening goes by slowly and painfully. People keep talking about things he doesn’t care about, and Geralt keeps ignoring him. He is more bothered by his behaviour than he has the right to be, and he contemplates going home more than once. Triss tries to have a conversation with him, but he isn’t in the mood, he just wants to be mad at Geralt for his indifference, an issue he faced when they were dating too.

After a second round of drinks and snacks, Jaskier notices Geralt leave the pub with a pack of cigarettes in his hands. He waits just a few seconds before following him outside where the summer heat covers his body like a second skin.

“Hey,” he says, stopping near Geralt. Under the light of the streetlamp he spots the piercings in Geralt’s ear.

“Hi,” the man replies, lighting up a cigarette.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“I didn’t have many clients today.”

“Oh, what do you do?”

Geralt blows out the smoke while throwing him a glance. “I’m a tattoo artist.”

“Wow, that’s cool.”

Geralt hums but doesn’t add anything else.

“Can you believe it’s been ten years since high school?” Jaskier says. “It feels like we graduated just yesterday, and you haven’t changed at all.”

“You haven’t changed much either,” Geralt replies. “Still as chatty as ever.”

“And you’re still as quiet as ever. And cold.”

Geralt looks at him with a slight frown. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t even say hi to me earlier despite our past.”

Jaskier can swear Geralt smirks for half a second, but when he speaks again he’s as calm as before. “What would you have wanted me to do?”

“I don’t know, something less indifferent.”

Geralt takes the last drag of his cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray. “Something to remind you of the past?”

Jaskier bites his bottom lip. “Maybe.”

Geralt moves in front of him, so close Jaskier can feel the heat coming from him. He gulps as his eyes meet Geralt’s golden ones, piercing through him in the light of the streetlamp.

“Maybe, huh?”

“I’d gladly show you how much I’ve missed you these years,” Jaskier replies in a low voice.

“Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

“Both?” Jaskier teasingly smiles.

“You really haven’t changed.”

Before Jaskier can reply, Geralt has pressed him against the wall and is leaning forward, mouth only inches away from his. His hot puffs fan over Jaskier’s face, and the night heat brings blood to Jaskier’s cheeks as Geralt holds his hips and closes the distance between them.

The kiss is better than anything Jaskier desired, and it takes him back to ten years ago, to the first time he kissed Geralt at school, hidden behind the stands of the football field. He feels young once again, a fool dealing with his first crush and wanting nothing more than to live that moment over and over again. It’s like all those years of radio silence have never happened, as if he and Geralt have been dating for twice as long; being with him feels so natural he can’t believe they have ever been apart.

Geralt pulls back way too soon, but on his face there is the same mixture of fondness and arousal that is on Jaskier’s.

“I live nearby,” Jaskier says. “Why don’t we move there?”

“My bike is parked right around the corner,” Geralt replies, and if Jaskier wasn’t turned on before, he definitely is now.

They say goodbye to their old classmates between mild protests for leaving so soon and little grins that show no one is fooled by their sudden departure. Geralt’s bike waits for them in a parking lot in the neighbourhood, and as they ride it to go to his apartment, a fun excitement bubbles in Jaskier’s stomach. He clings onto Geralt’s back, and much to his benefit the black T-shirt the man is wearing does very little to hide the defined muscles under it.

As they make their way up the stairs to Jaskier’s place, neither of them can keep their hands to themselves, and by the time Jaskier opens the door, their lips are already on each other with the same fervour as before. The air conditioning helps with making the room more inviting, but it does nothing to cool down Jaskier’s heated skin. Geralt’s touches set it aflame every time he brushes against him, every time his tongue glides on Jaskier’s, and his hands sneak under Jaskier’s shirt.

“We’ll leave the talking for later, okay?” Jaskier pants while Geralt kisses down his neck.

“Yeah.”

Jaskier takes him to his bedroom, pulling him down on top of him as they fall on the bed. He wraps himself around him as he used to do in high school and doesn’t let go of him while they kiss. Once more Jaskier is surprised by how comfortable he still feels when he’s with Geralt, his body remembers those skilled hands sliding up his sides, caressing his skin, and making him shiver in anticipation.

They pull apart only to undress, but once they’re both naked again - Geralt a lot bigger than Jaskier recalls - they’re once again on each other. Geralt wraps his fingers around Jaskier’s cock and gives it a tentative tug while kissing down the brunet’s chest. Jaskier gasps and twist the bedsheets.

“God, you’re still as good as in high school.”

“I’ve learnt a thing or two during the years,” Geralt replies with another kiss. “Do you have lube?”

Jaskier takes the half used bottle from his night stand and tosses it to Geralt who coats his fingers with its content. He circles Jaskier’s hole, teasing it for too long before plunging inside. Jaskier has to admit that his movements are way less stiff and clumsy than when they were in high school, and his tongue knows exactly what to do as he sucks him off. Jaskier’s body complies as it used to do; it meets his fingers with the same zeal and thrusts into his mouth, equally desperate for more.

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding before,” he moans when Geralt licks his precum away.

Geralt looks at him with a satisfied grin that is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen.

By the time Geralt is done with him, Jaskier is already begging him to fuck him. Geralt's own cock looks painfully hard, so it doesn’t take him long to convince Geralt to get to it, and after wearing a condom, Geralt lines himself up with his hole.

He really is bigger than Jaskier remembers, filling him up so good he’s gasping for air after mere seconds. He clutches Geralt’s shoulders as the engulfing feeling makes his head spin, and he throws his head backwards on the pillow while he bites his lip. Geralt takes things slow, pushing inside little by little and kisses his exposed neck, leaving bite marks behind him.

When Jaskier gets used to him, Geralt starts with shallow thrusts, pulling out before easing back in. Jaskier can feel his entire length leave and enter him again, stretching him wide every time and never failing to make his body quiver. He groans as he clamps around Geralt and digs his nails in the man’s back while he tries to keep his mouth shut.

“C’mon, Jask,” Geralt says, biting his ear. “I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.”

“And I know for a fact that you can fuck me a lot harder than that.”

“As fussy as ever,” Geralt smirks but holds onto Jaskier’s hips tighter as he picks up the pace.

Jaskier’s moans get louder too while Geralt pounds into him, reaching deep inside him. He meets his every thrust, greedy for more and Geralt doesn't let him down; he keeps hitting his sweet spot, taking him closer and closer to his orgasm, furrowing his brows for the effort. He looks as good as ever, time has been very kind to him, and Jaskier pulls him down for a sloppy kiss, clenching around him as their tongues tangle with each other.

Gasping for air, Jaskier breaks their liplock and fills the room with his moans while Geralt pushes him against the headboard. He is panting too and soft grunts are leaving him. At least something hasn’t changed since high school. It makes Jaskier’s heart tug with fondness, and he cries out Geralt’s name in a sweeter tone. He keeps Geralt close to him when the man leans down to kiss his chest, and his hands get lost in the white locks that tickle his skin.

“I-I’m close,” he warns in between moans.

Geralt grunts and fucks him harder, hitting his prostate again and again until Jaskier is coming after quickly stroking his cock. He’s completely spent when Geralt cums too and doesn’t move as the man slumps near him on the bed, trying to catch his breath as well.

“I think the last time sex felt this good was in high school,” Jaskier pants after a while.

“High school?” Geralt asks in a surprised tone.

“Yeah, no one has ever compared to you.”

“You must have had really shitty partners. I didn’t know what I was doing in high school.”

“I wouldn't call that not knowing what you’re doing.”

Geralt huffs but doesn’t say anything.

“Why did we even break up?” Jaskier asks, looking at him.

“You got mad because I offended your singing and then moved out to go to college without telling me anything.”

“Wait, no, I’m sure we had a conversation about it.”

“If you call you storming out of the room, telling me not to contact you again and then changing your phone number a conversation then I guess we did.”

“Fuck, really?” Jaskier says, ashamed of his past self.

“Yeah.”

There is no accusation in Geralt’s tone, but Jaskier can tell he thinks he behaved like an asshole too.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises. “I didn’t know I could be that much of an idiot.”

“It’s in the past,” Geralt shrugs.

“No, it’s not, at least not for me,” Jaskier replies, sitting up. “I’ve never been able to forget about you, no one has ever made me feel like you did, but when I realised that, it was too late, we had broken up for too long and I didn’t know how to contact you.”

Geralt sits up too and bores his eyes into Jaskier’s, something that looks too much like hope in them. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m sorry for what happened between up, I hope you can forgive me.”

A tiny smile lights up Geralt’s face. “Holding grudges for so long isn’t for me.”

“Does this mean we can maybe pick up from where we left off ten years ago?” Jaskier hopes.

“Why do you think I even came to that stupid reunion?”

Jaskier’s lips open up in a wide smile. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

A corner of Geralt’s mouth quirks up, and he cups Jaskier’s face before muttering, “Me too.”

Jaskier doesn’t have time to reply as Geralt’s lips are soon on his, giving him all the reassurance he needs.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #my writing #answered #prompts

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ridiculousyoungicarus · 3 years ago

Photo

i wanna hide the truth, i wanna shelter you

a love letter to luxor’s zander driskell

I want to start off with a disclaimer that there’s a bunch more pre-Luxor content on this one compared to the girls’, but with Zander it felt extremely important to explore that aspect. There’s a note on the section where I’m finally playing him in the roleplay due to that, but anything before that point is before I started playing him in the group. Anyway, I’m proud to present a 3 hour Zander playlist, come help me judge him for the amount of references to his dad and Ches throughout this entire playlist.

Yet again I’d like to thank Lex for help throughout this process, and warn everyone that the usual Zander trigger warnings are all over this playlist (mental health, violence, abuse / child abuse, etc etc). Anything additional is noted on the sections.

‘cause i had a fire, passion and desire. now all i require are circuits and wires | pre-luxor:

zander before attending luxor additional tws: potential self harm (breathe me)

iRobot (Jon Bellion) [ I was a human, before you killed me and ripped my heart out. ] // Breathe Me - Acoustic (Jonathan Roy) [ I think that I might break and lost myself again and I feel so unsafe. ] // Tell Me Why (Taylor Swift) [ Why do you have to make me feel small so you can feel whole inside? Why do you have to put down my dreams so you're the only thing on my mind? ] // Weight Of Living, Pt. II (Bastille) [ All that you desired when you were a child was to be old. Now that you are here, suddenly you fear you've lost control. ]

happiness is beautiful to see, won't you box it up for me? | sophomore year:

zander’s sophomore year at luxor, and the introduction to one ches elswood. additional tws: bleed out can be extremely uncomfortable to listen to with the whole, bleeding out theme. please skip that song if you feel you need to

Cop Car (Keith Urban) [ You were thinking that running for it would make a good story; I was thinking you were crazy as hell. ] // Don't Trust Me (Phillip Phillips) [ So when I say I'm okay, don't trust me. ] // Burn Out (Imagine Dragons) [ Oh, give me strength, and give me peace. Does anyone out there want to hear me? ] // Crawling (Linkin Park) [ This lack of self-control I fear is never-ending. Controlling, I can't seem. ] // Bleed Out (Blue October) [ Will I bleed out? I gave it all, but you can't stop taking from me. And way down, I know you know where to cut me with your eyes closed. ] // Don't Sing the Blues (Bohnes) [ I was ridiculous, young Icarus. I flew too close to the sun. ]

do you remember all the plans we made? | helena:

a section dedicated to zander’s relationship with helena additional tws: sex (carry your throne), alcohol (tonight I wanna cry)

Carry Your Throne (Jon Bellion) [ If you're lost in this darkness I'll carry your throne. No, I won't let it swallow you whole. ] // Snake Eyes (Mumford & Sons) [ It's in the eyes. I can tell, you will always be danger. ] // Halfway Gone (Lifehouse) [ You were always hard to hold, so letting go ain't easy. I'm hanging on but growing cold. ] // The Promise (Andy Black) [ Tell me what ever happened to the love we gave, the promise that we both betrayed. ] // Tonight I Wanna Cry (Keith Urban) [ And I thought that bein' strong meant never losin' your self-control, but I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain. To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain from my eyes, tonight I want to cry. ]

i say one day the valley is gonna swallow me whole, i feel like a photo that's been overexposed | junior year (‘18-‘19):

junior year of high school, fairly self explanatory additional tws: smoking (antisocial)

Flaws (Bastille) [ You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve and I have always buried them deep beneath the ground. Dig them up. Let's finish what we've started. ] // Battle Cry (Imagine Dragons) [ Just one more time before I go, I'll let you know that all this time I've been afraid, wouldn't let it show. Nobody can save me now, no. ] // 12 Rounds (Bohnes) [ I'm coming home, I've got some things to say. My gloves are on and my shoes are almost laced. ] // Novocaine (Fall Out Boy) [ Don’t mind me, I’m just the son of a gun. So don’t stop, don't stop 'till your heart goes numb. Now I’m just numb, I don’t feel a thing for you. ] // Machine (Imagine Dragons) [ 'Cause I've been wondering when you gonna see I'm not for sale. I've been questioning when you gonna see I'm not a part of your machine. ] // Antisocial (Ed Sheeran feat. Travis Scott) [ So antisocial, but I don't care. Don't give a damn, I'm gonna smoke here. ] // Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea (Fall Out Boy) [ Seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind and all my childhood heroes have fallen off or died. ] // Never Going Back (The Score) [ I'm never gonna follow just because they say so. ]

consign me not to darkness | summer 2019:

the summer after the merge, where zander is stuck at home working for lance additional tws: alcohol (if you’re going through hell)

Two Evils (Bastille) [ I'm the lesser of two evils or am I tricking myself nice? ] // Man or a Monster (Sam Tinnesz feat. Zayde Wølf) [ When you look at yourself, are you a man or a monster? ] // DNA (Lia Marie Johnson) [ Are the pieces of you in the pieces of me? I'm just so scared you're who I'll be. When I erupt just like you do, they look at me like I look at you. ] // Broken Crown (Mumford & Sons) [ So crawl on my belly 'til the sun goes down I'll never wear your broken crown. I can take the road and I can fuck it all away, but in this twilight, our choices seal our fate. ] // If You're Going Through Hell {Before The Devil Even Knows} (Rodney Atkins) [ I've been deep down in that darkness, I've been down to my last match. Felt a hundred different demons breathin' fire down my back. ] // Mud On the Tires (Brad Paisley) [ 'Cause it's a good night to be out there soakin' up the moonlight. ] // Pray For You (Jaron And The Long Road To Love) [ I pray your brakes go out runnin' down a hill, I pray a flower pot falls from a window sill and knocks you in the head like I'd like to. ]

but all the scars they prove that i fought my way through so, i always keep 'em showing | senior year of hs (‘19-‘20)

finally, the point in the timeline where zander is actually getting roleplayed by me. includes summer camp fun too

The Silence (Bastille) [ Tell me a piece of your history that you've never said out loud. Pull the rug beneath my feet, and shake me to the ground. ] // Stand Up (The Cab) [ Yeah, all of my demons are kicking and screaming but I'll never leave them behind. Yeah, maybe I'm crazy but don't try to save me, 'cause I've never felt so alive. ] // Only One (The Score) [ Tell me how it feels to know I'm not a puppet under control. I cut the strings a long time ago. ]

running from the devil, but the devil takes hold | fall & winter 2020:

a new school year, increased disdain for his father, a certain set of posters, and the start of realizing there may be something wrong with him.

Gold (Imagine Dragons) [ But now you can't tell the false from the real. Who can you trust? When everything you touch turns to gold. ] // Just Like You (Three Days Grace) [ You thought you were standing beside me, you were only in my way. You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you. ] // Bad Blood (Bastille) [ All this bad blood here, won't you let it dry? It's been cold for years, won't you let it lie? ] // Middle Finger (Bohnes) [ But I refuse to let you make me feel like I can't fly. Not only will I soar again, I'll own the fucking sky. ] // American Beauty/American Psycho (Fall Out Boy) [ You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out, and you can kill me, kill me or let God sort 'em out. ] // Homecoming King (Andy Black) [ You're standing there with the homecoming king; turn the silver spoon into a diamond ring. Can he make you disappear without anyone noticing? Yeah, fuck the homecoming king ] // Monster (Imagine Dragons) [ I'm only a man with a candle to guide me, I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me. A monster, a monster, I've turned into a monster. ] // Animal I Have Become (Three Days Grace) [ Somebody help me through this nightmare I can't control myself. Somebody wake me from this nightmare, I can't escape this hell. ] // Gallows (The Score feat. Jamie N Commons) [ Been turning my back on the sun these days, trying to walk the line but I'm losing my way. ]

i'm sifting through the sand, looking for pieces of broken hourglass trying to get it all back but it back together | spring 2021:

continuing to take a good look at his mental health, a desire to improve, and an appreciation for his support circle. additional tws: sex/masturbation mention (All Time Low)

All Time Low (Jon Bellion) [ I've been trying to fix my pride but that shit's broken, that shit's broken. ] // Bishops Knife Trick (Fall Out Boy) [ These are the last blues we're ever gonna have, let's see how deep we get. The glow of the cities below lead us back to the places that we never should have left. ] // Demons (Imagine Dragons) [ They say it's what you make, I say it's up to fate; it's woven in my soul, I need to let you go. Your eyes, they shine so bright, I wanna save that light, I can't escape this now, unless you show me how. ] // I'll Be Good (Jaymes Young) [ I never meant to start a fire, I never meant to make you bleed. I'll be a better man today. ] // The Anchor (Bastille) [ You were the light that is blinding me. You're the anchor that I tie to my brain. 'Cause when it feels when I'm lost at sea, you're the song that I sing again and again. ] // Ungrateful Eyes (Jon Bellion) [ Still lost, still feel depressed like I'm try to find a way in. I'm trying to figure this out, but my God I'm so human. And so I turned to my sister and smiled and asked this question, “all we wanna know is where the stars came from, but do we ever stop to watch them shine?” ] // Rise Up (Imagine Dragons) [ The darkness right in front of me, oh, it's calling out, and I won't walk away. ] // Bless The Broken Road (Rascal Flatts) [ Every long lost dream led me to where you are, others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars, pointing me on my way into your loving arms. This much I know is true, that God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you. ]

#musing ( playlists )#no chains won't hold me down ( musings )#violence tw #Smoking tw #alcohol tw #abuse tw #child abuse tw #self harm tw #blood tw #stabbing tw #bc implied

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lycorogue · 4 years ago

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A Family Tradition: Giving Thanks Tree

Tina Belcher - Image care of “Bob’s Burgers” on Fox

When I was a kid - I can’t even remember how old I first was - my mother would tape a cardboard cutout of a bare tree onto the attic door. Along its trunk were the words “Giving Thanks Tree”. She would then hang up a manila envelope filled with leaves cut out of red, orange, and yellow construction paper. Our goal for the month of November, leading into Thanksgiving? Write just one thing we’re thankful for each day and then hang it up on the cardboard tree so it is full by the end of the month.

As a child I HATED this tradition. It was so hard for me to think of 30 unique things I was grateful for, and usually ended up with generic things like “food” or “a home” or “boys” (I was a bit like Tina there). It wasn’t until college did I truly get the value of taking a few minutes each day to think about a blessing in your life you may have otherwise taken for granted. It was hard for me my freshman year of college to know I couldn’t participate in the family Giving Thanks Tree, so, with a new appreciation for the tradition, I made my own cardboard tree, hung it on my dorm room door, posted a sign explaining the tradition, and put out my own envelope of paper leaves for my floormates to join in. I was a naïve 18yo, but thankfully no one posted joke leaves. I was surprised at how many joined in on my tradition as I filled my tree with gratitudes. (I later brought my leaves home to post on the family tree).

In 2011 I got married and officially moved out of my mother’s home. I have yet to find a good wall or door to hang a big ol’ cardboard tree, so instead I switched to a digital list. This year I had decided to share to more than my personal Facebook page. I tried posting daily on Twitter as a month-long thread, but... well, it didn’t go so well, so I stopped after day 13, I think. I did finish the thread over on Facebook, and I decided to bring the complete list over to Tumblr.

So, for any who are interested, below the break is my list of 30 things I was grateful for this past November; things I hope to remain grateful for well beyond the next year. Always remember to stop to count your blessings. If you really try to find them, you will discover you have more than you might have realized.

1. I am grateful that my friends and family have been (mostly) safe and healthy this year, and that those who did contract COVID-19 were able to recover. ❤ (*proceeds to knock on wood*)

2. I am grateful for the amazing support system I have. I know I am one of the lucky ones, but between my husband, my family, my friends, and even my readers, I have so much positivity lifting me up, and I want to make sure I never take that for granted.

3. I am grateful to have a stable roof over my head. It's a decent size for two people (we just have a LOT of things). It has sturdy walls & a secure roof. We can keep it warm in the winter and cool in the summer (not cool enough for Hubby, but nothing outside a meat locker would be). We have an attentive but not intrusive landlady. She repairs anything that needs fixing ASAP, and is a lovely woman we can just pal around with on occasion. Those are things I know a lot of people can't say about their landlords/ladies. We also have welcoming neighbors that are a joy to run into in the parking lot. If we have to be "stuck" somewhere until we can buy our own place, where we are works wonderfully.

4. I am grateful that we are no longer hurting for money. We can splurge on smaller purchases (under $50) without much second thought. We can now pay off ALL of our monthly bills after just the first paychecks of the month. And then the rest of the month is building up funds for the next month's bills and savings. Speaking of, we have a little nest-egg of a couple grand, which is still relatively new for us. I'm also over-paying my student loans and car payment. Not by much, but enough that my bills are a couple months ahead, so... cool. I know that during this year in particular, having any sort of financial security is hard to hold onto, so I want to count our blessings that we're doing alright. *proceeds to knock on wood again*

5. As silly as it seems to say, I am grateful for all of the election memes. It was a super stressful time for most of us, and to have some sort of humor that most of the country could relate to (such as Flash from Zootopia being in charge of counting Nevada's votes) was a great stress reliever and bringer of much-needed smiles. So, thank you, Meme Lords/meme creators for bringing us such fantastic content to help ease that wait and stress.

6. I am grateful to see that my Muse is slowly returning to me, like a groundhog after a long hibernation, poking its head out just enough to acknowledge it's there before scurrying back into its burrow to hide again. It hasn't been much, and only one story was actually written in November, but I have been playing with a handful of plotbunnies. It's nice to be able to de-stress via plot-building and playing with character growth again. 😊 ❤

7. I'm sure you all saw this coming, but I am grateful that T**** lost the election. Not so much that Biden/Harris won, because there's issues there too, but that T**** will be out of the White House. Mostly, I'm grateful because that means so many that I love - and those online personalities that I respect - are going to be in a safer America (and world) as of January 20th. For those who suffered through physical, mental, emotional, financial, and maybe even spiritual hardships over the past 4 years - both Americans and international citizens alike - I am grateful that you get to take a breath and relax (at least, for a little bit) now. I don't know if Biden/Harris will (or can) do anything to actually help heal what caused my loved ones' suffering, but at least they won't be actively adding to it.

8. Getting away from the political, I am grateful that Hubby and I can eat whenever we want (outside of work). We may grumble about what we have available, but that's mostly due to not having the energy to turn ingredients into meals, or we've had the same meal 3x in a row already. Regardless, we CAN eat whenever we are hungry, and I am grateful for that.

9. Keeping with the "things people can take for granted easily" theme, I am grateful for my wardrobe. It may be simple and repetitive, but it is enough to wear something clean each day for anywhere between 7 and 12 days before needing to run to the laundromat. Nothing has holes or ratty edges (unless it's a beloved shirt I refuse to give up). My shoes have good soles to them, and I rarely have sore feet. When my feet DO get repeatedly sore, I have the funds to either fix my shoes via new insoles, or I can simply buy new ones. My coats are warm and, aside from one missing the grip of the zipper (but the zipper itself still works), they are still in good condition. I may not be the most fashionable, and I'm sure I'm not picking the best clothing to fit my body shape, but over-all, I'm protected from the elements, my body is protected, and I am well-kempt.

10. Kept me too long to mention this, but I am grateful that I was able to marry my best friend. There are those out there still looking for companionship. There are those who found it, but, in some cruel twist of fate, lost it. There are those who love their spouse, but may not exactly be friends with them. And yet, here Hubby and I are: two people who would gladly spend every waking moment with each other. I found someone I could chat and cuddle and laugh and cry with every moment of every day. Someone I share interests with, and someone who expands my list of interests. Someone who also expands my view of the world; who makes me wish to be more understanding and accepting, and just... better. I am lucky, and I never want to see a day when I forget that fact.

11. I feel a bit silly with this one, but I am grateful I don't have any major allergies I have to worry about. Specifically, no food allergies. I've seen how difficult it is for people to navigate around food allergies or intense airborne allergies. To have to not think about those sorts of things is such a privilege, and I'm truly grateful for it. I have enough issues with lactose intolerance.

12. Another kinda silly one, but, I'm grateful for @dragnime living next door to us. Same was true for when another friend was our neighbor. There's just something about seeing dragnime’s car when I come home (again, same with the other friend and his car) that makes me smile. I don't have to actually socialize with dragnime that day if we're both busy, but to see his car and know he's there should I want to reach out is just a weird sort of comforting. (Man, I really need Hubby and I to win the lottery so we can build our commune already....)

13. I am grateful for publicly announced self-appointed deadlines. Last year I started up my own tradition within the Miraculous Ladybug fandom: Friday 13ths should be Plagg Appreciation Day. Plagg is a character who, I feel, doesn't get nearly enough love or screen time. He's also the kwami of bad luck and destruction, so... Friday 13th seemed fitting. The final bit of writing I had actually finished and posted prior to November was for this fandom holiday back in March, and at the end of that story I told everyone "see you in November!" so I felt silly if I'd let this poor-writing year defeat me. I was determined to have at least THIS story written, and that determination paid off. It ended up taking almost literally my entire day off, but I was able to become inspired enough to write SOMETHING, and it seems to be received well, so... added yay. 😊

14. I am grateful for my relatively easy life. I have been loved and supported my whole life. I never really experienced abuse or prejudice (or even really bullying) personally. I was able to fully experience college without much personal trouble (my student loan debt notwithstanding). Aside from a single 6-month stint right after moving to NY, I have been able to find work easily enough. I haven't had to struggle for food or clothing or housing (stretch budget, yes; struggle, no). I haven't had to live without electricity or clean running water. I've never lost loved ones or valuable items (even sentimentally) through natural disasters. *knock on wood some more* There have been struggles in my life, to be sure, but, on the whole, I've had a happy, safe, supported, and relatively easy life.

15. I'm calling out @chibisunnie specifically. I am so SO very grateful for her. I mean, I always am, but this year in particular she's been such a pillar of strength for me. I can't even imagine the stress and panic this year must cause her, and yet she's still always there to comfort ME. (I mean, I hope I comfort her too, but this year in particular I feel it's more her comforting me.) She's been the main one (right behind Hubby) to remind me to be kind to myself this year and that it IS an unusual year; my "failings" in 2020 don't define who I am seeing it's an outlier year.

16. I am grateful that my sister is seeing her true self-worth. She’s worked so hard to improve herself and to find out who she truly is, and it's been fantastic to see her continue to evolve. It's also great to see her find someone who builds her up, so a side bit of gratitude to her boyfriend. And, yes, her perseverance, strength, and determination (as well as her mad crocheting skills) are still things that I greatly admire in her. I'm just so happy and proud and grateful that she seems to be in such a good place. ❤

17. I am grateful that my mom has discovered how capable she truly is. This year has been undeniably hard on small businesses such as hers. It must be such a struggle to keep everything afloat and to stay positive, and yet she is. She's pushing herself to improve her business and marketing. She's dealing with modern technology – basically the bane of her existence – nearly all day long between Zoom meetings to network and learn and grow, to working remotely, to making videos to help promote herself, to reworking her business's website, etc. She's grown so much over the year and I'm so proud of her.

18. Since I mentioned it, I am grateful for video conference programs such as Zoom. Unfortunately, due to scheduling conflicts, exhaustion, and my right knee getting worse, I had to stop doing Zumba (I'm hoping to work my way back into the routine again sooner than later). However, before June screwed me over, Zoom was how I was able to keep up with this exercise routine post-shutdown. It's how I've been able to see my family. It's how so many have been able to continue working. It's how YouTubers I enjoy manage to still interact for their videos. It's fantastic that this technology is not only available, but it's also accessible to so many.

19. Speaking of which, I am grateful for the Oxboxtra crew, Dicebreaker, the Theory Family (yes, I’m aware people find MatPat problematic...), SuperCarlinBrothers, OSP, Hello Future Me, and The Warp Zone. In total, that’s nearly a dozen different YouTube channels I routinely watch – focused mostly on OutsideXbox, Outside Xtra, Film Theory, Game Theory, Food Theory, and SuperCarlinBrothers – and these channels have really helped me keep my sanity. The fandoms specifically for OutsideXbox, Outside Xtra, and SuperCarlinBrothers are just so sweet and supportive of even fellow fans. The YouTubers have such big hearts and are so delightfully goofy, it's almost like welcoming friends into my home whenever I watch them. I even started checking out stuff on Luke Westaway's and Ellen Rose's private channels on YouTube because I enjoyed these entertainers so much. So, thank you, YouTubers, for helping me find something that lets me forget what's going on in the world for 2hrs and just have fun. ❤

20. Along those lines, I am grateful for games such as Animal Crossing: New Horizons and Among Us. Both of those games, and similar ones that were available this year, were great distractions from the chaos of 2020. They have provided fantastic and unique gameplay content for the YouTube channels I follow, which, in turn, provided great video content for me to watch. These types of games were also, and most importantly, great ways for people to stay connected. I've been able to bond and joke around and preoccupy myself with games and gaming streams, and they have certainly been such great lifelines.

21. I am grateful for quiet cuddle moments. Be it in the evening while Hubby and I are watching TV, or while we're actually snuggled in bed watching Disney+ or Netflix, or after hitting snooze in the morning and just wanting to stay cuddled together for another 5 minutes, or even when one of us (*cough*usuallyme*cough*) is feeling super stressed and we just take a couple-minute time-out to just hug, I am grateful for all of them. I know not every couple gets to have these physical contact moments for various reasons, add in my own experience of having an 8-year long-distance relationship, and I try so hard to not take those quiet moments of just simple hugs or hand holds or back scratches for granted.

22. I am grateful for music and the ability to experience it. It motivates me. It inspires me (I have so many stories/chapters written because a song made me think of the plot). It helps with cathartic release. It gets me moving and exercising. It keeps me focused. It allows me to just zone out. Music is just so important in my life and the life of so many more. Bless all the music creators and performers.

23. I am grateful for Anime Night. It's a bit of normalcy in this year of anything but. It's a way to stay connected with a couple of my friends, and the little bits of socializing we do outside of watching has really allowed me to get to know both men more, as well as learn more about the other people really important in their lives.

24. I am grateful for the experience of turning fans into friends (and also being allowed to evolve from fan to friend). One of the best things about fanfiction is the ability to see people interact and react with your work, and to then respond in kind. It's sort of a silver lining to the relatively small number of views and comments on most fanfiction (compared to most professionally published work, that is), since it means you aren't too overwhelmed to truly experience each comment, follow, fave, like, reblog, etc. Through people gushing about my work, and me gushing back at how happy they've made me, I've been able to build up some really sweet friendships. I've also made two new close-acquaintances (we don't interact QUITE enough to be “friends” just yet) from my own gushy reviews and their responses to how great my reviews made them feel. So, to @chibisunnie, @thetauruspixie, @livrever, @tlos21, @chanceuseladynoire and @zenmisery (I hope that's all of you), I am so grateful for the bond we've had over fanfiction. Love all of you so much! ❤

25. I am grateful for members of minorities and other marginalized peoples for taking the time and effort to try to educate others; making it easier on us when they are in no way obligated to help us understand at all (it's really on us to put in the effort to try to understand them). This year alone, via personal posts on social media, infographics, comics, people posting reference sheets of hotlinks to research/source materials, etc, I was able to learn so much. I was able to grow and try to overcome my own prejudices, misunderstandings, and misinformation. All because people decided to share their raw experiences or do the research for me. It was something each and every one of them volunteered to do in an effort to help educate, and I am so grateful for the lessons they've taught me.

26. I am grateful that people find me a safe person to talk to. It is one of the few things I want in life; to be a safe haven for friends, family, and even strangers who are hurting. I realize the amount of trust people put in me and the vulnerability they are allowing themselves. It is humbling, to say the least, but also such an amazing feeling. I will try to keep learning and keep growing to keep earning the trust warranted me being this safe haven, but in the meantime, I'll continue to be grateful that people do find me as someone they can be safe with.

27. On the flipside, I am grateful to have friends who allow me to just be who I am. I can be obsessed with a cartoon aimed at 10 year olds (Miraculous Ladybug), and my friends not only don't judge, but they also happily let me know when their young children start to enjoy the show! I can be goofy or forgetful or screw something up, and, again, there's no judgment. They just accept me as I am, and I am blessed.

28. I am grateful for the support my friends and family have (outside of me) in their lives. It does my heart well to know that even if I disappear due to my own mental health issues, that my friends and family still have great support around them. They are all kind people surrounded by more kind people, and I nearly cry whenever I read or hear about my friends getting support they need and the outpouring of support. YOU ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE AND I LOVE YOU ALL AND EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU DESERVE THE OUTPOURING OF SUPPORT YOU'VE FOUND. ❤

29. I am grateful for the continued bonding we've had with my sister-in-law this past year. I miss having the post-Zumba walk where we can just talk, but, largely through effort on her part, we've been having some time every Tuesday when she comes over to work after dropping the kids at school. We also had a whole evening with her on Black Friday. She's also texted and called a few times to chat, and we are getting closer and closer each year. Not everyone thinks of their in-laws as family despite what the law says, so I'm grateful that we have always thought of each other as family, and that we continue to bond and grow as siblings.

30. I am grateful for this family tradition. It allows me to really focus on what is important in life, and all the joys and blessings I've experienced. It's especially important during this trash heap of a year. I love that I can find silver linings in my life and appreciate what I have. This tradition is also a reminder to not take things for granted. I am so SO grateful that my mom introduced us to this tradition and forced us to participate as we grew up. It's a lesson that will stay with me, and it's such an important one. Thank you, Mom!

#Thanksgiving #Giving Thanks Tree #Gratitude Tree #family tradition #LycoRogue original #30 blessings #long post

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pattonsperfectfamily-asks · 4 years ago

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Chapter 14- A Very Long Goodbye Chapter from Mod Iva

Masterpost

TW: past stalking (so much. so. much.), nonconsensual recording, crying, forcing someone to hit someone else, r slur, mention of almost forced contact, pushing someone into water, past kidnapping, murder, torture, flashback, breaking into someones house, brainwashing, electrocution

“98.2!” Patton cheers as he pulls the thermometer out of Damien’s mouth. “Now you’re all better!”

Damien sniffles, forcing his head down, his glare aimed passively at the floor. “I wouldn’t have gotten sick if you hadn’t been an idiot and put Virgil in the damn ice bath.”

“Don’t be rude to your father.” Logan scolds, watching the angry look in Patton’s eyes as he pulled Damien closer to him. “And we do not swear in this household.”

“Ohh what, so you’re fucking brainwashed as well?” Damien snaps. “You know, Virgil is one thing, but you’re a grown-ass adult. What’s your excuse?”

Logan froze, tears welling up in his eyes. “I-”

“Punish him,” Patton says curtly. “Do it. Damien, your father is going to punish you for talking back and swearing.”

“W-What?” Logan was shaking. “What would you want me t-to do?”

Patton mimes a harsh smack, his eyes cold. “Do it, Bunny. Or we could go into my room to cuddle if you don’t want to…”

Logan’s eyes widen as he faces Damien nervously.

“Really?” Damien snarks. “Maybe you deserve to be here with Patton, seeing how you like bending to his fucking will 24/7.”

“Glasses, now Logan,” Patton said firmly.

“Sush, we’re just cuddling. This could be much worse, couldn’t it Logie?”

“Get in the box Bunny.”

Alex didn’t take his eyes off him.

“Just shut up and go back to sleep,” Alex says forcefully.

“If you tell, well I won’t be able to go back up and give them food,” Patton says cheerfully. “They’d starve up there, and it’d be all your fault.”

“Husbands are supposed to be faithful, Lolo.”

“You won’t be taking this ring off.”

Logan makes a noise in the back of his throat, a mix of a scream and a sob, and slams his hand down on Damien’s face.

Damien drops to the floor and Patton moves over to Logan, wrapping his arm around Logan’s waist. Damien gingerly touches his cheek, looking up at Logan in shock, who hid his face in Patton’s shoulder and sobbed.

“Shh, it’s okay bunny. You’re okay…” Patton presses a kiss to the top of Logan’s forehead, moving to sit him down on the couch.

Roman watched as the sun slowly set.

Dinner had gone quietly, and Damien sat across from Roman on his bed, sitting silently as Roman peered out the window.

“I think Patton will be asleep soon.” Roman muses.

“I hate him.”

“We all hate him, Dami.”

“Not Patton, I loathe him. I hate Logan.”

Roman looked over at Damien in shock. “He didn’t mean to hurt you Dami, you know that.”

“Yes, he did.” Damien crossed his arms, staring at the door, a seething look in his eyes.

“Logan is just hurting,” Roman says quietly. “He’s doing what he thinks is best for his survival. And Damien, if you hadn’t noticed, it’s working. You shouldn’t have sworn at Patton.”

“But I-”

“No.” Roman cuts Damien off with a shake of his head. “You need to control your attitude around Patton. You know how he’s like, if you act like a happy kid, he won’t bother you. He’s not the problem here.”

“Jason’s only a problem for you,” Damien mutters.

“That’s not fair. That’s not fair, and you know it, Damien.” Roman says quietly. “Patton only bothers you because you argue with him, Jason hurts me no matter what I do. You could ignore Patton for the most part, you just chose not too.”

“Because I’m supposed to be in college right now!” Damien protests, “Which, by the way, I had to work for all summer because I missed most of high school because I was kidnapped by a sociopath!”

“We’ll escape,” Roman says quietly. “We did it before.”

“We got rescued. When we were in the state we were taken from, and in a house that Patton owned.” Damien argues. Roman hides his head in his hands.

“Let’s just go, they should be asleep by now.”

Damien begrudgingly grabs the flashlight they had taken, and carefully follows Roman out into the hallway.

“The closets the only place he could hide something…Besides the basement.” Roman shudders, quietly opening the door and beginning to pull boxes out.

Damien shines the light for him as he opens the first box and began to rifle through the contents.

Inside was a small photo album, which Roman grabs and sets aside. “Old receipts…But they’re from all over America…Some pins…A children’s book, maybe we could convince Patton to give that to Remus? Some old glass figures…barbies…”

Roman gasped, hurriedly grabbing a camcorder and holding it to his chest. “Hurry, help me put this stuff back.”

Damien and Roman quickly shove the box back into the closet and hurry back to Roman’s room, the photo album, and camcorder in their hands.

“So what exactly are we looking for?”

“Maybe one of the pictures will have an address or a map. Something to tell us more of where exactly we are.” Roman says hopefully.

“Sure.” Damien rolled his eyes, beginning to flip through the pages. “There’s just normal pictures of small Jason, and what I’m assuming is his family. This one has Jason and that priest that’s also named Jason…And here’s one with Patton, Amelia, Jason, the other Jason, and Alex. All of them together.”

Roman shuddered at the reminder of Alex, looking at the photo curiously.

The five kids, around twelve, sat together in a treehouse, their arms around each other’s waist. Patton, priest Jason, and Amelia all had big smiles on their faces, but Jason and Alex looked like they were plotting something. In the back, a smaller figure with long hair and a blurred face laid curled up.

“They look like they were in a club.” Roman hums. “Who’s the girl in the back…?”

Damien shrugs, turning on the camcorder and going to the back of the gallery, to the first ever video.

“Here she is! Little Miss Amelia, all done with her initiation!” A female voice from off-camera spoke, and Amelia giggled, clumsily curtsying.

“Doesn’t she look gorgeous!” Another female voice compliments. “You two are so lucky!”

“Amelia, say hello to the video.” A male voice prompts.

The young Amelia tugged at one of her braids. “Hello.”

“Do you know why we’re filming?” The first female asks. Amelia pauses, her face falling as she shook her head.

“We’re filming this to celebrate darling! One last little test, alright?”

“Okay, Daddy!” Amelia smiles once more, and the camera shakes as it’s set down on a table.

An older woman appears in the frame, her hair and eyes dark, wearing a fancy silver dress. “Go ahead and sit down Amelia.”

Amelia sits across from the mother, her legs kicking slightly as she smoothed out her pink dress.

“Amelia,” The man rummaged in a box and held out a photograph. “Do you know who this is?”

Amelia peered at the man and woman in the photo closely. “No.”

“Do you know any girls at your school named Sarah Jonas?” The mother prompts.

“No.” Amelia giggles.

“What’s your full name?” The woman offscreen asks.

“Amelia Marie Lebent.” Amelia says with a little nod of her head.

The mother and father beam and the video ends.

Roman stares down at the frozen screen in confusion, worry growing in the pit of his stomach. “This belonged to Amelia’s family…?”

“But why were they asking her what her name was?” Damien asks. “Was she in an accident?”

Roman looks at Damien, deciding not to build off of anything, and instead playing the next video.

“Look! It’s huge!” A young Patton struggles to hold up a fish to the camera, his fishing pole knocking off his bucket hat.

“Careful!” The offscreen voice of a young Alex snaps as Amelia grabs Patton’s hat and puts it back on his head.

The group of kids were on a boat in the middle of a lake, a town in the distance.

“Mummy said we had to come home soon.” Amelia pouts, looking seasick as she tried to read her book amongst the chaos on the boat.

“Look at my fish!” Patton appears in front of the camera again, holding up the same trout.

“You already showed us the damn fish, stupid.” A young Jason snaps.

“Isn’t it cool?!” Patton asks excitedly, showing it again to Jason.

“Patton, you have to put the fish in the cooler, remember buddy?” Priest Jason says gently, guiding Patton off-screen.

“Patton! Come'ere, lookit this!” Alex says excitedly. From behind the camera, Jason snickers.

“What?!” Patton practically trips over his own feet as he rushes to Alex’s side of the boat.

“Look, do you see that fish, it looks like a shark!”

“Really?!” Patton hurriedly bends over the side of the boat.

Alex quickly pushes Patton in, who falls with a big splash.

“Alex!” Amelia yells, snapping her book closed and jumping up. She and priest Jason hurry to the side of the boat where Patton was pushed, while Alex and Jason laugh.

“It’s not my fault his parents fried his brain and made him a r*tard!” Alex laughs as Patton surfaces.

“You’re so funny!” Patton laughs, looking panicked. “Can I come back on the boat now…I don’t wanna get bit by a shark…”

“There’s no shark.” Priest Jason reassures him as he, Amelia, and Alex pull Patton back onto the boat. “We’re on the lake. Sharks are in oceans.”

Patton shivers. “Can we go home now?” He asks, his voice small. His entire chest was shaking.

The video ended.

"He deserved it.“ Damien had laughed when Patton fell in, but Roman simply looked horrified at the video. "What?”

Roman’s mouth stayed open in shock as he played the next video.

A girl with brown hair was on the screen.

“She looks like the girl from the picture…” Roman notices.

“What’s your name?” The mother from the first video asks.

“…Olivia…” The girl can’t even manage to get out her last name as a button is pressed. She writhes around in front of the camera, sweat pouring down her face as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

“Your name is Valerie, say it!” Amelia orders, marching over to the girl. “Say it! Your my sister Valerie!”

“That’s enough Amelia. Come back over here please.”

Amelia quickly complies as the girl tries to catch her breath.

“I…I want to go h-” She cuts off with another scream.

The video cut off, and they began again, now outside, where Patton and priest Jason peeked out from inside a large hole in the ground.

“Get out boys.” A man demands.

“But we’re playing Pop!” Priest Jason complains.

“This is a funeral! Out!” A woman says firmly. The two boys groan and pull themselves out.

“I still want a sister.” Amelia’s voice says from off-camera. Amelia’s dad appears in frame, holding Olivia’s body.

“We can try again next year darling, mummy can’t invest in another one right now.” Amelia’s voice says.

The man lays the girl down in the hole and begins shoveling the dirt back in as the camera moves to face a small seated crowd.

“That’s why I tell you, you go younger. My Alex never gave me any problems.” A woman holding a toddler in overalls says to Amelia’s mother.

The mother sips at her champagne in thought. “I don’t know, I think we might have only the one.”

“But I want a sister!” Amelia protests again.

“Daddy will get you a pony instead darling.” Amelia’s father promises.

“I already have a pony. I need a sister to play with.” Amelia pouts. “I’m the only girl except for baby Madeline.”

“Madeline won’t be a baby forever, and you have fun playing with your cousins.” The mother waves offhandedly, taking another sip of champagne.

The video ended.

“They…They tortured her…” Damien gasps. “Ohh my god she was Virgil’s age and they fucking killed her!”

“I think Alex said they did that to Patton too…I think they did that to all of them…” Roman switches to the next video, before gasping.

“Careful!” The camera shakes and then straightens out, zooming in on a thirteen-year-old Roman and Remus, playing together in the river.

“Sorry, dad,” Fourteen-year-old Patton says quietly, laughing when Remus shoved Roman under the water.

Roman spits water in his brother’s face in retaliation.

Roman switches to the next video, cutting off Patton’s voice.

“Look, Virgil, I borrowed this camcorder from my friend!” Twenty-four-year-old Patton says, pushing it closer so that Virgil’s face took up the entire screen.

The five-year-old giggled, gently pushing the camera back.

“Can you show me your drawing?” Patton asks.

Virgil carefully grabs the blue piece of construction paper, showing the camera. “Isa puppy!”

“It’s so good!” Patton praises, “You did such a good job Virgey!”

Virgil giggles, bouncing in place. “When Kai an mommy an daddy gonna get bac’?”

“Don’t be silly Virgey, your dad’s right here!” Patton says cheerfully.

Virgil giggles. “You na my daddy Pat-Pat! You my fwend!”

“Aww!” Patton shifts the camera, holding it away as he quickly came into view, kissing Virgil over and over on the head, which made the boy giggle. “I love being your friend, baby!”

The video ended.

“I feel sick,” Damien says quietly. “That video…It’s creepy, I don’t want to watch anymore…”

“They’ve been watching us this whole time…Patton knew about Remus and me since we were thirteen, maybe sooner.” Roman hid his head in his hands. “Holy fuck…We have to get out of here.”

Damien stands, backing towards the door. “I’m going to bed…I…I can’t finish watching…”

He hurriedly leaves, and Roman skips a few of the videos of Patton babysitting Virgil, his heart sinking when he saw Damien on one.

“Just ignore the camera.” Patton encourages.

“I don’t think I can-”

“No you’ll be great! I have to document this!” Patton laughs. “C'mon Dami, you’re so talented.”

Damien looks up at Patton then nods, blowing out a slow breath of air as he placed his fingers over the piano keys.

The video plays silently as Damien plays a classical piece, Patton cheering loudly at the end. “You did so good kiddo! You could win the competition next week!”

“Competition?” Damien looks up, confused.

“That must have been a few days before the first kidnapping…” Roman says to himself.

A quiet creak sounds from the hallway and Roman covers his mouth, hoping whoever was in the hall wouldn’t be Jason, and wouldn’t open his door.

Footsteps pad down the outside, and suddenly stop.

Roman’s door swings open, and Logan stares in at him.

“Why are you still up?” Logan asks, suddenly noticing the camcorder, “Where did you get that?”

“Why are you still up?” Roman asks as Logan sits next to him on the bed. “And why are you upstairs?”

“I couldn’t sleep after what I did to Damien…” Logan looks down in shame, fighting back tears. “I came up to apologize…But I couldn’t do it…What are you doing with a camcorder?”

Roman looked miserable at the question, holding the camcorder out to Logan and switching to the next video.

“Is that me?”

Roman grabs it back and looks. Sure enough, you could see Logan from through a window next to a door leading into his old classroom.

Roman plays the video.

A few moments pass in silence as Patton zooms in on Logan, seemingly grading papers.

“We’ve known each other so long…” Patton says wistfully. “I…Today I’m gonna do it!” He hurriedly moves away from the door and heads down a hallway. “We’re the only one’s that teach on this side of the building…I’ll just run into him, and he can help me pick up my stuff!”

The video ended.

The next video played.

Patton zoomed in through a window, the camera shaky.

Logan, maybe seventeen years old, sat down at a table with his family, eating with one hand and reading a book with the other.

“Ohh my god.” Logan chokes back a sob.

The next video played.

Fifteen-year-old Logan laid fast asleep in his bed, and the camera stayed on him for a minute before Patton began walking around the room.

“He likes science, and the planets, and pluto!” Patton giggles quietly, gently touching Logan’s space poster. “His favorite food is Crofter’s jam, and we’re going to have it every day on toast for breakfast!”

Patton returns to Logan’s bed and gently kisses him on the forehead. “I promise Bunny. We’re gonna have the most perfect little house, and kids and my brother Roman is gonna live with us!”

Logan stifled a sob, silent tears rolling down his face. “Ohh gods and goddesses…He…He ran into me on purpose…He snuck into my bedroom…Roman, he could have done anything when I was asleep, what if he-!”

Roman wrapped his arms around Logan, doing his best to comfort him. “We have to get out of here. I…I always just thought I was in the wrong place at the wrong time…Fuck…I never should have let him sit with me at the damn cafe!”

Logan sniffed, pressing the button to start the next recording.

Logan, only seven, sat on the swings at the park, reading a book and lazily kicking his feet.

“Are you sure Patton?” Patton’s mother asks, looking down at Patton. Patton smiles up at the camera.

“Yeah! I really really love him, Mama!” The boy giggled, and Jason shoved him lightly.

“Patton’s got a cr-ush, Patton’s got a cr-ush!” Amelia sand teasily. Alex said nothing, simply stared ahead at Logan deviously.

Patton went red. “Stop it!” He whined. “Mama, please can he be my husband when I’m big?”

“Of course love, whatever you want. Only the best for you.” She says. Patton beams.

“We’re gonna get married and live happily ever after!” Patton sighs happily.

“Only if you do what I say love, adults are tricky.” The mother reminds him. “You must go slow.”

“But he’s gonna love me forever and ever?” Patton asks innocently.

“Of course.” His mother repeats.

The video ended.

“I-” Logan choked up, staring at the ending screen. “At least he wasn’t in my room, right?”

Roman smiles sadly. “Yeah. I don’t think he did anything. I think that was the only time he went in your house.”

Roman shuts the camcorder off before Logan can look through the rest of the obsessive stalking videos, hiding it under his bed and turning to Logan.

“Why don’t we make a plan, okay Logan?” Roman says gently. “We’ll do that, but first you have to be very brave and go sleep with Patton, okay?”

“Okay…” Logan nods.

Roman stares up at him sadly as Logan stood. “Goodnight, Logan.”

“Goodnight…” Logan whispers. “R-Roman…Can you do something for me?”

“Of course.” Roman nods. “Anything, what?”

Logan hurriedly sat down and stared Roman in the eyes for a few seconds, pulling Roman into a tight hug, Logan chokes out a “Goodnight Remus” before crying more and hurrying downstairs.

Words: 3150

Taglist

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#past stalking #stalking #unsympathetic Patton sanders #r slur #r slur use #crying #implied past kidnapping #murder #torture #flashback #brainwashing #electrocution

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