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sopejinsunflower · 3 years ago

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Part 12

Warning: 18+

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The first time I actually talked to Kim Namjoon was during a team dinner.

We had all decided to go out for some BBQ and one of the staff had recommended this little mom and pop’s place that was pretty secluded and small. The chief had reserved the whole place for the night, all twelve tables in the small store, and the owners, an elderly couple in their sixties, had come down to help out, too. There were a total of five staff that night and they were running around like headless chickens. I almost felt bad. But the food was amazing and they did their best to serve our huge party. The owners became even more flustered when BTS arrived with their entourage fifteen minutes later, nonstop bowing and showing their appreciation for coming to their little space.

Sometime during the evening, Namjoon had occupied the seat next to mine, casually sipping on a beer and he went, “So why’d you make me like that?”

I had stared at him, uncomprehending. “Sorry?”

He laughed, putting his beer down, running a finger over his cupid bow, his cap low over his eyes. “My character in the Seven Petals. Why’d you make him dominating and intimidating like that? I don’t know if I can pull it off, you know.”

It was my turn to laugh. “You think you can’t be intimidating?” He nodded, an amused smile playing on his lips. I tilted my head at him. “You have no idea the effects you have on people, do you, Kim Namjoon?”

Though the smile was still there, there was a change in his eyes, a slight darkening, a infinitesimal narrowing of his eyes that I’d definitely missed if I hadn’t been looking at him just as closely as he was me. But then he shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I’m the clumsy one. God of destruction, the one that destroys stuff the second I touch it.” He takes a swig of his beer, chuckling slightly as if he found it funny or unbelievable.

I sat back in my chair, swirling my glass making the ice clinked together inside, the Coke almost finished. “Well, there’s that. But that’s not all of you, is it?” I watched him from the corner of my eyes. “Everybody’s familiar with clumsy Namjoon and that’s cute and all. But leader Namjoon, take charge Namjoon is…” I trailed off, suddenly feeling self-aware with what I was about to say.

“Is what?” he asked, turning to face me again, the same playful expression on his face. Suddenly becoming shy, I laughed, scratching my nose absentmindedly, the kind of subtle move you make when you’re trying to cover your face. He must have caught on that as he laughed too, turning his face away, one elbow resting on the table, two fingers covering the lower half of his face.

The conversation never really concluded and he had been whisked away by the others as the evening deepened; the group getting louder and more boisterous as the alcohol filled their systems. That was months ago, the whole night completely forgotten, pushed to the back of my mind. But tonight, as Namjoon undo the drawstrings of his pants, slowly and deliberately pulling on the knots one at a time, he suddenly asks me to finish my hanging sentence.

Blinking up at him, my eyes roaming his broad chest, his toned arms and pecs, I can barely focus on anything else. He repeats himself. “That night, at the BBQ place,” he says, pulling on the string slowly, unraveling it from its first loop, “you said clumsy Namjoon is cute.” He pulls on the other string and holds it there, “Then you said leader Namjoon, take charge Namjoon is…what?” The drawstrings come undone and he hooks his thumbs under the waistband. “I’ve been curious ever since.”

My brain is slow to react, processing at snail speed as I lazily look up at him through my lashes, growing impatient at how much time he’s dragging. I’m almost mad that the pants are still on. I whine but he doesn’t relent. “C’mon, baby. I know you remember exactly what I’m talking about. Take your time. I have all night.”

I twist the sheet in my hands, wracking my brain trying to think back to that night. To be fair, the team had gone for BBQs almost every Friday, and the boys had joined more than a couple of them, so it’s hard to conjure up the exact memory. I make a frustrated noise but Namjoon tutts, shaking his head. “No, baby. No excuses. That night I sat next to you and asked why you made my character the way he is. You remember?”

I shake my head, hoping that will be enough but he smirks, repeating the same line and asking me to finish the sentence. My impatience growing, I pushed myself up, hands reaching out to him. Namjoon catches me by the wrists in one hand, laying me back down, hands above my head. He is careful not to touch me anywhere else, leaning on his other hand, face inches away from mine. He uses his knees to pin me in between him, making it hard for me to move. I whine again. Why is he making this so hard? Just kiss me already, goddammit!

“You said,” he says, a little above a whisper, breaths tickling my cheek, “leader Namjoon, take charge Namjoon is…what, baby? Tell me what you were about to say to me that night.”

I squirm, turning my head this way and that, wriggling my legs to create some space but he doesn’t yield. His grip tightens on my wrists and I gasp, the skin there stinging. As if on cue, the memory rushes back to me and I blurt out the word. “Sexy.” I watch his eyes do the same thing as it did that night; the darkening, the narrowing as he regards me. Something in him shifts as his scents become heavier, stronger and I’m suddenly hyper-aware of his skin on mine, the cotton fabric of his pants, the weight of him above me.

“You think I’m sexy?” he says, voice turning rough again.

Annoyed, I reply a little vehemently. “Yes.”

“You think I’m sexy when I’m intimidating? You like it when I’m in charge?” he noses my neck, just a fraction of a touch, a whisper. I turn my head towards him but he retreats in the nick of time. I grumble, scowling at him. “Use your words, baby. Answer me.”

“Yes,” I hiss, baring my teeth.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos, brushing his lips against mine but not fully a kiss. “You know how hard it was to listen to you the whole day today? The noises you make, begging Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung like that, calling out their names when you’re coming all over them. You knew I was out there, didn’t you? Didn’t you, baby?”

I let out a whimper, struggling against his grip. My fingers are starting to get numb but the ache in my belly, the pulse starting in between my legs are much more crucial at the moment. Did I know he was out there the whole time? Yes. Yes, I did. But it was his own fault for not coming in earlier. He must have read the obstinate look in my eyes, the one that’s daring him, saying to him, So what? He lets out a low growl, the sound rippling from his chest but seems to be having an effect somewhere within me, making me press my legs together. He nuzzles the side of my face, grazing his teeth as he moves along my jawline. “I see my baby girl is testing my patience.”

He leans back, hand still tight around my wrists. He moves himself further up so that he’s straddling my chest, not quite sitting. I can clearly see the tent and I bit my lower lip as I imagine the size of him. I purr, the scent of his arousal excites me. Looking down on me, he says, “Why don’t you try and take off the pants for me.” I meet his gaze, one eyebrow raised. He jerks his chin in a go ahead motion.

Determined to prove him wrong, that he can’t deter me that easily, I take a mouthful of the pants right in between his legs, that space just below where his balls should be and pull. It’s harder than I thought but there’s no turning back now. His lips turn up at the corner but he doesn’t say a word. The pants manage to go down a little ways, just enough that his pubic area is exposed. One more pull and that should free the guy but because his member is rock hard and standing up straight, the pants get caught on it, refusing to move any further. I let out a frustrated shout before letting go, huffing against the bed.

Namjoon chuckles. “Let me help you there.”

With one hand, he pushes down the pants as far as it can go and his cock finally bounces loose, all red and veiny and weeping. My eyes are bright at the sight of it; his length rivaled Jin’s, more girth than Yoongi’s or Jimin’s. I clench myself, feeling the slick staining the mattress. His balls hang heavy and if I crane my neck a bit I can definitely run my tongue over it, feeling the rough skin of it, the small ridges.

“Like what you see?” teases Namjoon. With one hand, he lightly runs it across the length of his cock, making a bead of precum spill down the side. I moan, calling out his name. “Be a good girl for me and suck.” He angles himself to my mouth and grazes the tip along my lips. He taps it against my mouth lightly. “Open up, baby.”

I’m obedient, opening my mouth wide enough for him to slide his cock onto my tongue. I flick at the underside and he twitches, slowly pushing in until halfway when he stops. My mouth is full as I’m careful not to graze my teeth against him. He pushes in again, all the way until he hits the back of my throat and my eyes are watering, focusing to breathe through my nose. “That’s it,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re taking it so well, baby.” Then, he starts to move, sliding back out all the way before he comes back in. He starts to fuck my mouth, gradually gaining speed as he hisses and groans, saliva dribbling down the corners of my lips and down my chin. He pushes in deep and I gag around him and he quickly pulls out, sitting back and finally, after so long, letting go of my wrists. He leans down again and cups my chin, tilting my face up and meshes our lips together, roughly.

His kisses are rough and desperate, biting and pulling and sucking that I can taste blood, not sure if it’s his or mine, not caring either. In between kisses he says, his words punctuated, “I’ve waited so long for this. You’ve been driving me crazy with your sexy voice, calling out names that’s not mine, coming on dicks that’s not mine. I’ve been patient enough now, baby girl. It’s time I give you what you’ve been screaming for.”

“Namjoon,” I moan, my voice tiny. “Want alpha. Want now.”

“Shh,” he says, placing another kiss on my lips. “I know, baby. Just relax. Let me take care of you.” He starts to trail kisses down my chest, paying extra attention to my nipples, sucking and suckling, nibbling and teasing with his tongue. His tongue paints a strip down to my bellybutton before peppering wet kisses to the top of my inner thighs. He sucks on the skin at a spot there where I’m sure I’ll find the purple bruise if I look. He pushes my legs apart and looks up, his eyes fierce. “Spread yourself open for me. Come on. Show me how pretty you are.”

I use my left hand and run it over my dripping cunt, and, with two fingers, spread myself open as he requested. He lets out another growl. Without a moment to waste, he attaches his lips to my bundle of nerves and sucks. I scream, my other hand flying to pull at his hair. He inserts two fingers as he laps at my throbbing core. “I guess you don’t need prepping. The betas stretched you nicely for me.” He comes up, slick glinting across his face as he licks his lips. He positions himself, pulling me closer. He pumps himself a couple of times before aligning at my entrance. He looks at me, eyebrows dipping and for a second, I see a hint of Namjoon in his eyes, searching for something in my face.

With the last bit of sense I have, I nod at him. “Want. You. Namjoon. Please.”

That’s all he needs to push himself in.

He’s bigger than the others and I choke down a gasp, biting down hard on my lips as he stretches me further to his shape and size. I’m holding fistfull of the sheets beneath me, arching my back as I fight through the sting of him penetrating me all the way in. He pauses as I adjust to him, breathing in slow, shallow breaths. “That’s it, baby. Breathe. Just breathe.” His thumb caresses my inner thigh, drawing the figure eight in slow small loops. “Just relax, baby. That’s a good girl.”

Once the sting subsides, I look at him in between my legs through heavy-lidded eyes, the ache in my belly starting up again almost fiercely. The same hot and cold feeling washes over me, the shivers running up and down my arms but internally feeling like I’m burning up. “Joonie,” I mewl as I feel myself flutter around him, bucking my hips as a sign for him to move. He takes the signal almost immediately, hands gripping tight on my hips this time. He pulls out slowly before he thrusts back in, eliciting a soft emph from me, savouring the sensation. When he gradually picks up pace, the room is once again fill with loud erotic sounds, pheromones seeping through the walls.

As my body jolts with every stroke, I’m growing more and more aware of the power of the pack alpha. The strength of his presence, the force of his pheromones, the intensity of his scent wrapping me up in a mix of safety and intoxication, getting me high on both his arousal and mine. Every touch, every motion, even in the way he looks at me, makes me whither, like my sole purpose of living and breathing is for this alpha and this alpha alone. I’m fifty percent sure it’s the omega talking but holy shit, he feels so goddamn good inside me, purging whatever traces of Jin and Yoongi, purging all and any other men that had ever touched me in the past to leave only him; his scent, his shape, his fucking existence.

All I’m thinking is I want more. I need more.

Namjoon leans down over me, leaning his weight on his arms on either side of me, panting and groaning, baring his teeth as we lock eyes, sweat dripping as I cry out his name over and over again as he hits the right spot. I grab onto his arms, nails sinking into his muscles that flex underneath my hold. I’m close, my eyes fluttering shut, unable to keep them open anymore, my lips dry as moans spill nonstop from my mouth. “Fuck, baby, you look so pretty like that. Does that feel good, baby? Huh? Am I making you feel good?” I nod my head frantically, words failing me as I feel the tightness winding up. He can sense it, too, feeling me tightening around him. “Getting so tight and wet for me. Going to come for me soon, baby? Go ahead. I’ve been picturing your face, wondering what you look like when you come. Now I can finally see it. I want to see you come all over my cock, baby. Show me how good I make you feel, yeah?”

Namjoon hastened his thrustings, shallower but deep, the lewd sounds doubling as my pussy weeps more juice, a telltale sign of an incoming orgasm. He drives into that as I wrap my legs around him, egging him on, pleading him to take me all the way. He complies. I feel the pressure build and build until it hits a crescendo when it finally comes crashing down in waves so great it leaves me breathless, tensing and jerking my body up, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Namjoon hisses and he tenses up, too. Then something else happens. Something I have never experienced before during sex, and maybe it doesn’t normally happen among humans, anyway.

Something at the base of Namjoon cock inflates inside me, stretching me wide and I gasp. Namjoon buries his head into the crook of my neck, whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again. But as much as it stings, it also fills me up, giving me a sense of fulfillment that the betas didn’t, couldn’t. I’m still riding my orgasm, clenching and unclenching around him and this new extension to him when Namjoon’s comes, too, spilling warmth load after load inside my core. I moan, calling out his full name like I’m practicing out a spell. “Fuck, baby, fuck. Ah, shit.”

When the waves finished, we both lay slack on the bed, Namjoon’s full weight on me, his member still nestled in my folds, warm and safe. The swell of the base of his penis is starting to grow uncomfortable but I’m too exhausted to even move or say anything. Heavily, Namjoon pushes himself up onto his arms, gently removing my hair out of my face as they stick to my skin from the sweats. He kisses my forehead, then my eyelid, then my cheek. He grazes my lips with his thumb before he places them a kiss, soft and warm, a complete contradiction to how he was just minutes before.

“I don’t know how long it will take for the…” he murmurs, pausing to look down between our legs, “knot to…unknot?”

I scrunch my forehead at him, not believing what I’m hearing. He looks pained and embarrassed and before I can stop myself, the laughter that bubbles up leaking from my lips in little giggles. Namjoon looks more embarrassed and confused now as well, staring at me with his mouth slightly apart and my giggles turn into full on rumbling laughter, covering my face with my hands in a futile attempt to stop myself but I can’t help it. Just moments ago he, Kim Namjoon, was all dominant and in control, alpha presence sharp and strong, as he made me beg for him. Now, with the alpha sated and withdrawn, the contrast between the two personalities is more than amusing to me. It’s hilarious!

The knot finally deflates and he slides out easily, along with all other liquids, slick and semen combined. Namjoon sits up and awkwardly tumbles towards the bathroom. He rummages in the towel cabinet and brings back a small one. He starts to wipe down in between my legs tenderly, making sure he gets everything. I moan a little when he wipes my vagina which is still a little sensitive and his cock twitches. I grin up at him and he smiles shyly, moving to toss the towel into the sink. He sits back down by my head, one hand tangling in my hair as he looks at the destroyed nest. “How are you feeling, baby?”

I hum, assessing myself mentally. Apart from the soreness and the tiny bruises along my thighs and neck and chest, I’ve never been better. For the first time since this started, which isn’t all that long ago, the haziness and heaviness in my head is almost gone. My limbs feel heavy but the clarity of my mind is stark. It makes me appreciate being human more, rather than the simplicity of an animal who loses all senses when it’s time to mate. Why do people romanticise this? It’s plain torture! Not having a choice, your life dictated by your libido and hormones and shifts of the season. I only went through it for a little over two days and to think I might have to live with this my whole life…

“Shh, baby. It’s okay.” Namjoon is cradling me in his arms, wrapping me up tight, forehead against mine. “It’s okay. It’s over now. Shh. It’s over now.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” I choke out in between sobs, “I don’t want to live like this, Joon. I don’t want this to be who I am.”

He’s rocking me gently, shushing me but he doesn’t reply, not immediately. He holds me against his chest, my crying shaking us both. He pulls up a blanket up and over us like a cocoon and we stay like that until my sobbings turn to hiccups which then turns to quiet sniffles. He tangles his hand in my hair as he cups my face. He speaks into my ear.

“This isn’t all you are. This isn’t all that I am either. Or the boys. This is not who we all are. You know that, I know that, we all know that. You are a beautiful human being, talented, kind, funny. A writer I have the pleasure to get to know. Someone who I’m glad I crossed paths with. I’ve seen the way you laugh, how your nose crinkles up and sometimes and how you let out little snorts when you can’t catch your breath fast enough. I see the way your eyes shine when you talk about the things you love, the passion burning in them. I notice the way you act like an older sister to all of us and you let Yoongi call the shots because sometimes you don’t trust yourself and how you laugh at Jin’s unfunny jokes because you’d feel bad when no one else does.” He wipes at my tear-streaked face. “Just because some lunatic thinks he can change our DNAs doesn’t mean he can change who you are, who we are. He can’t and we won’t let him. I won’t let him. And I will remind you every single time if I need to, hold you like this when you feel like you’re falling apart because I won’t let you fall apart. And even when you do, I’m right here to put you back together.”

“And you have us, too.”

We both whip our heads towards the door which is suddenly open. Jin and Yoongi stand in the doorway, Jin carrying a tray of food. They both look freshened up; damp combed hair and, more importantly, dressed in clean clothes. The lights are back in their eyes, the glow of their skin is also brighter. ”And the rest downstairs,” says Yoongi as he closes the door behind him, “you have them, too, I mean. You get the idea.” He shrugs as he sits on the edge of the bed gingerly, careful to avoid the mess.

Jin puts the tray down on the desk and looks at me, hands on his hips. “You, young lady, need to eat. Need to put some meat on those bones.” He regards me through narrowed eyes. “A shower first sounds better, though. Get you cleaned up first.” He turns to Namjoon. “You, why don’t you go ahead and do that? You need the shower, too, Joonie.”

Yoongi stands up and starts to pull off all the nesting materials that are strewn haphazardly all over the bed, the nest long ruined. “Get your asses in the shower. We’ll clean this up in the meantime.”

Jin picks back up the tray and hurries to the door. “Yoongi will clean that. I need to make sure your food stays warm. Don’t take too long!” He then disappears out the door with Yoongi blinking after him, an impassive look on his face. Namjoon’s face contorts as he tries not to laugh. With the blanket still around us, he lifts me up bridal style and makes for the bathroom, Yoongi pulling everything off the bed with one swift motion of the bedsheet.

The warm water running through my hair and down my sore body feels like that first sip of cool water on a scorching hot day. I stand in the bath, one hand leaning against the wall, head down, eyes on the swirling water at my feet, the invisible dirt falling off of me in flakes and chunks, going down the drain. I take the loofah, press the soap pump three times and lather it in my hands before rubbing the loofah a little too roughly all over my arms and body, determined to scrub myself clean. My skin stings a little to my satisfaction. Good. I need to get it all off; the smell, the sex, the sweat and other liquids sticky on me, the traces of animal on me, the-

Namjoon grabs at my hand, stopping me mid-scrub. I look up at him, water running over my eyes and mouth, taken aback by the anger in his face, the flash in his eyes, his jaw clenching and unclenching. I withdraw a fraction, ducking my head to make myself small. He doesn’t say a word but the message is clear: stop. With his other hand, he gently pries the loofah out of my grip, turns me around and starts to scrub my back, tenderly as if I might tear if he puts any more pressure. “The loofah does its job enough,” he says almost nonchalantly, “you don’t need to press on it. It’ll ruin your beautiful skin.”

My chest feels like it might burst, my throat swelling and the tears threatening to make an appearance again but I press my knuckles to my eyes in a coverted attempt to wipe them away. When he is done, I turn and take the loofah from him and do for him as he did for me, washing his body as softly as I can. Finished rinsing, we both step out of the bath and he takes a towel to dry me off, wrapping me up in it once he is done. I step out of the bathroom to find the bed with a fresh sheet, the nesting materials in one big plastic bag. Yoongi stands by the desk with something in his hand. He looks up when I appear.

“Why do you still have this?” He lifts the thing in his hand and I see that it’s the piece of the CAD drawing. I shrug, making my way to the drawers of clothes. “Why are you going through my journal?”

“It was sticking out of the journal, sorry. I got curious.” He puts it back in between the pages but doesn’t close it, still looking at it as I put on my clothes. As Namjoon steps out of the bathroom with only his sweatpants on, drying his hair, he catches Yoongi looking at the torn up piece of paper.

“What’s that?” he asks, rubbing at his hair with the towel.

“The thing we found on the top shelf,” replies Yoongi, one hand on the back of his head. “It’s a CAD drawing.”

“And?”

Yoongi looks up at Namjoon. “I think it’s the house.”

Next part: here

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a/n: Hope you guys love this one! I'm going to take a short break while I enjoy the last week of my holidays and mentally prep myself for back to work T_T Also, the next parts still need polishing. I will start updating again by next Monday (JST), I promise! Lmk your thoughs in the comments! Don't hesitate to send me an inbox or ask, whichever you like because I love talking to you guys xx

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cathrrrine · 4 years ago

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The Other Romanoff

1 — NO LIES HERE

At first he thought you were crazy, and then he almost shot you when you tried to convince him otherwise, albeit a little bit too passionately. Then finally, after some long, long deliberation, he took you to a nearby café and you sat down on the furthest seat next to the window.

"How do I know you're not a psychopath?" Sam barely moved a muscle since we sat down, minus the part where he turned his head to talk to the waitress. He got himself an iced Americano and you settled for a cup of steaming hot latte.

"Would a psychopath get this far?" You sipped on your drink carefully, the warm liquid trickling down your throat with heavenly satisfaction. "Plus, I think a psychopath would've at least pulled some shit at this point."

"That's what a psycho would say."

You smiled at him playfully, "Only the best ones."

He leaned forward, crossing his arms and placing them on the table so his eyes were level with yours. "I still have a hard time believing your story."

A sigh escaped your lips for the thousandth time that day, "Listen, all I know is that I went to sleep in my own room, in my own bed, and then I woke up in a dark warehouse in the middle of nowhere. I tried to find my sister, just to discover that she apparently died. Months ago."

He pursed his lips, trying to piece together the information again. You've retold the story at least three times by now.

"And you're saying you didn't know she died?"

"Sam, I talked to her a few days ago. I know I'm not crazy. Everything here is so wrong and out of place. You didn't even recognise me in the first place!"

"Why?" He scoffed. "Should I have recognised you at all?"

"Yes!" You groaned, anger and frustration boiling in your chest. "Sam, this is what I mean. You're one of my best friends. We fought together in Monaco, don't you remember?"

A bewildered look crossed his face, "No offense, but I've never seen you before in my whole life."

A part of you cringed as you heard him say those words. It felt awkward and inappropriate. Even though you knew in your heart it wasn't really your Sam, he still looked and talked like him, and hearing him say that hurt, whether you wanted to admit it or not.

"Not gonna lie, that one stung." You pulled back, leaning backwards so you were slouched in your chair.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what else to tell you." He shrugged. "Unless you can prove it all to me in some way, I don't know if I can trust you."

Trust you. His words echoed in your head, bouncing around aimlessly off the walls of your brain before the wildest idea struck you.

"You do trust me. So much that I know almost all your secrets." You slammed my hands on the table, hoping your plan would work.

"That's creepy."

"I know. That's why it's going to work. No one in their right mind could make this up." You started, "When you were twelve, you ate a snail because you thought it would make you super-slow."

It was a shot in the dark. Who knew if your Sam and this Sam were even the same? There was a slim chance that they both shared the same lives, but you had to try.

His eyes widened, then they narrowed. "How the hell did you know that?"

Before he had a chance to ask another question, you cut him off. "When you were fifteen, you had a crush on a girl named Alicia and when you tried to ask her out to prom, you puked all over her shoes."

"Hey-"

"When you were nineteen, you wanted to be a professional dancer and enrolled in a dancing class, only to find out it was a ballet class for eight year old kids at the very last second." You paused for a moment to cringe playfully, "Embarrassing story by the way."

"That was not what happened-"

"And," you held a hand up, palm facing him. "You got beat up by Ant-Man once. Scott never stopped talking about it ever since."

The last one seemed to have shocked him more-so than the other ones. "How did you know that?"

"I was there."

That got his attention. "No, you weren't."

It was a frustrating game to play, retelling all the stories that only you or anyone close enough to him would know so that he would believe you. You nodded your head at him, trying to convince him of your truth.

"Yes, I was!" You exclaimed, earning a few glares from the table opposite you. You sent them a small apologetic smile before resuming your debate with Sam. "I was there. There was a breach at the Avengers Headquarters and you went to check it out. Scott shrinked down and ripped out all the wires in your pack. I was the one in your headpiece!"

The ice in his untouched drink had melted, creating a layer of unstirred water on the surface. Below the glass was a very prominent and newly-made ring on the wooden table, caused by the lack of a coaster. You felt like the drink somehow. Cold, and very close to your limit of having a meltdown.

"Prove it." He said, finally. "What did I say to you?"

"You told me to never let Natasha find out about it or else she would've never let you you live it down."

You thought that would seal the deal. That event only stayed between the two of you and Scott Lang. How else could you have known that?

"You're wrong." He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing yet again in confusion. "It was Cap."

What?

"I told the agent in my earpiece to never let the Captain find out about it. Not Natasha. And you were wrong about it all! I ate a ladybug, not a snail, because I thought it would make me fly. I asked Deanna out, not Alicia, and I got sick all over her shoes. And it wasn't a ballet class, it was a tap-dancing class!"

You slumped in your seat. You were right about one thing — this Sam and your Sam did not share the same lives. Similar, but not the same.

"Which is why," he raised an eyebrow, his face contorted into an expression that you couldn't decipher. "I believe you."

Your head snapped up, "Are you serious?"

"Yes. No one knew anything about those stories. A psycho couldn't possibly have access to that information because it's not written down anywhere, and a mind-reader wouldn't get all those details so incredibly inaccurately."

A flicker of hope lit up inside your chest, and comfort filled your being as he flashed you another one of his smiles, this one being much, much friendlier and familiar.

"I believe you, Y/N. As crazy as it all sounds." His hand reached out to grab his drink, stirring the coffee with his straw. The layer of ice-water quickly dissolved within milliseconds. "Now we just need to figure out how to solve this."

———

You ditched the truck you had stolen and hopped inside Sam's car instead. It was much more comfortable and it didn't make an unpleasant clanking noise every time you hit the brakes.

It felt oddly safe to be in his presence, like you were home, even though you were far from it. Maybe it was because of the fact that you weren't as alone as you were before, now that you had at least someone believing your story.

The ride was silent. Neither of you felt the need to talk. But then a very disturbing thought crossed your mind, and you had to ask the question you weren't sure if you wanted to hear the answers to.

"Sam," your voice was quiet. "If...if Natasha is dead. Who else is?"

He didn't respond for a good minute, and you wondered if you could take back the question and go on living without it. You weren't sure if you could move on from the impending answer. It could only be bad if he didn't reply right away, plus, he had that look he only wore when he had to deliver bad news.

"Tony. Vision." he gulped, "Steve isn't dead, but he's....he's not the Captain anymore."

It was like he had forcefully fed you rocks, no, boulders. Your heart dropped to your stomach at the sound of each of their names. Tony, one of your most treasured friends, was dead in this world. The man was like a father to you. It hurt just to even think about the fact that the version of him here was just...dead. And Vision was gone as well...God, how was Wanda? You wondered how they all died and how everyone else who didn't was doing.

Then your thoughts drifted to Steve. Steve Rogers, the man who basically trained you as an Avenger alongside Natasha. You'd even actually considered him to be like a brother to you, after all you've been through.

You couldn't bare the thought of it. All of it. But deep down, you needed to know.

"What do you mean he's not the Captain anymore?"

Sam sighed, a long deep breath that made his chest contract and constrict. "It's a long story."

You put your feet up on the dash, leaned back in the seat of your chair and put your hands behind your head. "We've got the time."

He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow as if to reconfirm what you said. You answered it with a single nod.

"Tell me everything."

#natasha romanoff x sister!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #tfatws #black widow #yelena belova #black widow imagine #yelena belova x reader #i would trade my soul for nat to live #if it isnt already obvious this is my outlet to comfort myself #Au #mcu #mcu imagine

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babyflash · 3 years ago

Text

wallaway but as the it (2017) scene

16(you’ll know which one when you read)

fair warning this is probably totally ooc and it also may not make sense but idc bc its fanfiction and i can write whatever silly little au i want SO high school setting that i shove all my little fictional people into.

find it on ao3!

prompt: For the writing prompts, maybe something about Wally and Hartley's friendship when Wally was Kid Flash? I love the potential of the two trying to keep it a secret that they're besties with a hero/villain from the team or other supervillains, and just the sheer chaos of those two as teens.

tags, warnings, etc.: just wally west being hartley’s manic pixie dream girl, no warnings! meet cute??? this doesn’t really fit the prompt but it’s wallaway and they sure do meet.

word count: 1,816

requested by: @mossycrumpet

Hartley hated new schools. He especially hated new schools in small towns. Keystone City, Kansas has a population of too-few and all the teenagers in the town attended the same high school. The same high school that Hartley’s parents moved him to over the summer. Junior year, hello Keystone City High! Luckily, he didn’t have to join in the middle of the semester and the Rogues are just a train ride away. All he has to do is get through the next two years without incident, get into some fancy school his parents will approve of, and then he’s free! Maybe. Hopefully. Hartley refocused himself, it was his first day and he had arrived. Well, it was everyone’s first day. That was a comforting thought. As he walked towards the suddenly very imposing doors, he tried not to think about how everyone here already knew everyone else and he was the outsider. He was a lamb entering the lions’ den, he’d be lucky to make it to first block alive.

Hartley counted his blessings when he saw the very clearly labeled front office as soon as he entered the building. He beelined for it, having not been in town for open house and therefore not having his schedule, and steeled himself before heading for the small woman sitting behind the desk. Wordlessly, and before he could speak, she held up a finger. A little shocked, Hartley obeyed and waited for her to finish her snail’s pace tapping on the keyboard. While he waited, he observed her and her red cat-eye readers, the faux-gemstone glasses chain hanging around her neck, she had an almost comical beehive. There were huge filing cabinets lining the walls behind her. Hartley felt like he’d entered a time bubble. After several agonizing moments, she turned to him and smiled.

“Hello, dear, so sorry about that wait,” she pulled the glasses off her face and dropped them, letting the chain catch them against her chest. “What can I do for you?”

“Uh,” Hartley’s brain felt a little like mush. The second she spoke and actually gave him her attention, the entire script he had for her had left his mind. Stupid traitor script. He remembered himself and pulled one of his earbuds out, fiddling with it. “Uh. Um, my name is Hartley and… and I need to pick up my schedule.” She stared a little bit. “I’m… I’m new in town.”

For a brief, terrifying moment, she remained silent and staring. Then, as if a switch flipped, she smiled at him again and picked up the phone sitting on the desk in front of her and pressed a couple of buttons. It made a strange crackling noise and she spoke into it without putting it to her ear.

“Mrs. Stevenson? I need you to send Mr. Wally West to the front office, I need his assistance.” She paused, listening for a response that Hartley didn’t hear and didn’t think she heard either. “Thank you.” She turned back to him and smiled again. “What’s your last name, sweetheart?”

He flushed. He thought he’d done a good job introducing himself, but apparently not. “Oh, um, Rathaway.”

She blinked, and a brief shocked expression crossed her face. Then, she schooled her expression back to the kind grin she’d had moments before and pushed against the desk to send her rolling chair to the filing cabinets behind her. She yanked on one of the drawers and it opened with a loud whooshing sound. Her bright red nail polish shined as she quickly sifted through the contents, giving a small “ah-ha!” as she brandished what she was looking for with a smile. The secretary rolled back towards him and placed a schedule in his hands. Then, she leaned in, conspiratorial. A little mesmerized by her, Hartley leaned in, too and she spoke to him in a whisper.

“Dr. Haven insists on a paper filing system, though,” with this she lowered her voice further. “Between you and me? I think he may be a time traveler from the fifties.”

He stared at her. Was she joking? Could she read his mind? She winked. He grinned. At that moment, a blur of color and fabric came bursting through the door. The blur nearly knocked a potted plant over and Hartley braced for an impact that never came. There was something achingly familiar about the way the newcomer moved, the chaos and simultaneous self-assuredness.

“Hi, Miss Darlene!” The boy (not a blur) spoke. “Sorry it took me so long, I was wrapping up a quiz when you called.”

Hartley looked at the secretary (Miss Darlene, his mind supplied) with what had to have been a bewildered expression because she laughed lightly at his face.

“Just the entrance I expected from you, Mr. West! Not to worry, I just need you to show our new student around. He missed the open house last week.”

When had he told her that? Miss Darlene winked at him again. What did she know that he didn’t? He narrowed his eyes at her, but before he could say anything, the kid grabbed his arm and tugged, a little impatiently. Hartley shoved his earbud back into his ear and followed his tour guide out of the office. The guide began chattering away as he led Hartley to what seemed to be a central area for the school. Some students sat on benches and picnic tables scattered throughout the area, and there were plenty of bulletin boards filled with flyers for events, clubs, and classes that wanted advertisement. Hartley observed the school with a bit of scrutiny. The walls were white, and the floor was checkered with dark green and a light gray, the school’s colors.

“... schedule?”

Hartley snapped back into focus, pulling an earbud out once again and finding his tour guide’s face.

“Sorry, what?” He asked.

“Can I see your schedule?” The kid - Wally West, as Miss Darlene had called him - didn’t seem upset at having to repeat himself. He smiled, pleasantly and a bit lazily. His smile was crooked, the left corner of his mouth rising higher than the right. He had freckles all over his face, and his cheeks were rosy. Hartley zeroed in on a small freckle on his bottom lip without thinking. Wally’s green eyes sparkled with vague amusement, and Hartley remembered where he was and what was happening in an embarrassing rush.

“Right!” Hartley said, probably a little too loud. A couple heads turned as he sheepishly handed the kid his schedule. “Sorry. About that.”

“It’s alright, new kid,” Wally’s voice was soft and tilted a bit when he spoke. Hartley felt the tips of his ears heat up. He really liked this kid’s voice, it almost had a musical quality to it. He watched with bated breath as Wally looked over his schedule. The crooked grin was back, and the schedule was slid back into Hartley’s hand. “You can follow me.”

So, Hartley did. He followed Wally West to his locker, studiously kept his eyes on the door of it as he deposited his things, he was led to his first, second, third, and fourth blocks, then shown the gymnasium, the cafeteria, the quad (which - what kind of high school legitimately has a quad?), and the athletic fields. The whole tour only took about twenty minutes, but Hartley hardly recalled anything. He was too focused on the kid’s voice, the intonation and the way he pronounced his words. Too focused on the sound of it to register what was being said.

“... got the same homeroom, so I’ll probably see you around. Do you have any questions? Need anything else?”

“Sorry, what?” He felt like a broken record.

“We’re in the same homeroom. And we have the same lunch. You can sit with me and Linda today, if you’d like.” That smile was back. “I’m Wally West, by the way. I don’t think I ever told you that.”

“I know.” He said it without thinking. Wally’s eyebrows raised, and Hartley felt like cursing himself for his lack of impulse control. “I… uh, Miss Darlene said it. A couple times, I think. I’m Hartley Rathaway, I’m -”

“The new kid?” Wally hooked his thumbs into the straps of his backpack.

“Yeah,” the word left Hartley’s mouth in a rush of breath. He smiled, feeling at ease in an instant. “I moved here in July, but my folks took me out of town last week, so…”

“So, no open house.” Wally nodded, not needing Hartley’s confirmation. “Hey, whatcha listening to, new kid?”

What was he listening to?

Step by step,

Ooh, baby,

Gonna get to you, girl!

Oh God. He was listening to New Kids on the Block. That was the most distinctly embarrassing music he could be listening to! Before Hartley could change the song, Wally had the free earbud up to his ear. Through his embarrassed haze, Hartley noticed that Wally didn’t put the earbud fully in his ear, which was appreciated. A small smile grew on Wally’s lips, and Hartley kind of wanted to curl up and die. Wally would think he’s a total dweeb for listening to an 80s boy band, and then he’d take back his lunch invitation and Hartley would sit alone and never make any friends because Wally totally had to be super popular and then he’d end up dying alone with only the Rogues caring. This was the worst case scenario.

“New Kids on the Block.” Wally’s lovely voice was thick with amusement.

“I don’t even like them! It’s… it’s a friend’s playlist!” Lies. Total bullshit lies. Hartley didn’t even believe himself, why would Wally?

“Right.” Wally drew out the vowel, and then winked. Actually winked! Hartley felt his heart beat a little faster. “Well, I gotta run.”

Hartley’s heart sank a little bit. He took the earbud that was handed to him back and held up two fingers in a peace sign. A peace sign?! Wally, somehow, found that charming, because he laughed a little bit and held up a peace sign of his own. His nose scrunched and Hartley’s knees went a bit weak.

“I’ll see you at lunch?”

The lunch invitation! Had not been taken back! A little starstruck, he nodded mutely.

“Cool, hang tough, new kid!” Wally threw another wink over his shoulder as he walked away.

Quick! Say something cool! Something suave! A voice in his head (one that sounded suspiciously like Lisa) whispered to him.

“Uh, please don’t go, girl!” Lame! Lame! Totally lame. He saw Wally’s shoulders shake as he disappeared around the corner, and maybe it was the light, but he totally caught a hint of that crooked grin, too. Wally was, despite Hartley’s brain’s best efforts, charmed. Hartley felt a bit of satisfaction as he straightened his messenger bag and started off towards his first block. Until he realized he had no idea how to get there.

#wally west #hartley rathaway #hartwally #wallaway #writing prompt #ask box stuff #cee writes #txt #mine

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ramzawrites · 4 years ago

Note

Ah right sorry! I dont know how but my brain was like 'yes discord is exists in minecraft'- Yes of course I dont mind! You can do whatever you want with the request :) Good im happy to hear that! And Thank you!

Original Request: Could I request a shy and quiet reader forgetting they're on a discord call and starts to sing a song that they are listening to? and whoever is on call with them joins in? maybe with Tommy, Wilbur and some other characters you want to write for :)

Remember to eat and drink water!

Secret Singing - Reader Insert

Pairings: none stated but can be read as Wilbur x Reader

Characters included: Wilbur, Tommy, Jack Manifold

Warnings: n/a

Series: a request <3

Summary: Wilbur was busy, but not busy enough to help Y/N set up their workspace at their favorite spot! Going off to fulfill his own errands only to come back to a nice and beautiful tune in the air.

Words count: 2125

Authors Note: Lmao you are valid, I mean after all skype is canon in the dsmp 💔 Skype my abhorred 💔

Also adhd went brrr again, I tried looking over it a ton but there might still be a few mistakes!

“Oh, wow! Need any help with that, Y/N? That’s a lot of wool you got there!” Wilbur was running through L’Manberg to deal with some errands but stopped in his tracks, having to do a double take as he just saw a mountain of blue wool on legs walk towards his direction. Only then did he notice that it was Y/N who was holding on to a basket with the wool in their arms.

With a concentrated expression Y/N turned around a bit so they could look at him. Pieces of loose wool was laying in their hair or was stuck on their flushed face “Oh! Didn’t see you there! And it’s alright! I’m just getting it over to my bench!”

With their bench they meant the wooden bench they set up themself next to a small pond. They loved working close by it hence the bench to make it a bit more comfortable. It was also still a minute or two off and with the way Y/N was already struggling with the basket, Wilbur couldn’t just stand and watch. How could he hope to be a proper president when he didn’t help people who clearly needed it?

He shook his head with a fond smile on his face, stepping closer to grab the basket from them “Nope, let me help you. Not taking no for an answer.”

Y/N let out a few weak protests but ended up just pushing it into his arms, not wanting to accidentally spill the freshly treated wool unto the ground.

“Hey, um, be- bend down a little, Wil.” their voice weak and wavering like usual. Their shyness getting ahold of them again.

Not even thinking about why they asked this of him, he obliged. They then scoped up the top of the soft mountain so Wilbur had actually a chance to look across. He might be tall but that didn’t help when you held something big in your own arms.

With a soft satisfied smile they begun moving again and for a second Wilbur just stared as he readjusted his grip on the surprisingly heavy basket that Y/N probably made themself. Following after them and making sure that no stray pieces of wool would fall off.

“So, what’s all the blue wool for?” he asked.

For some reason this seemed to amuse Y/N “Well, a lot of our clothes use blue wool. The flag as well! I need some blue thread to either stitch some more flags down on clothing or when repairing them. Same for the flags flying about. General stitching. Besides can’t hurt to have some extra, might even sell some!”

In hindsight this made sense. When this whole L’Manberg situation started out Y/N offered to help stitch together their torn clothes. Over time they got really good at it and nowadays they have kind of turned into the resident seamstress.

Wilbur once apologized for pushing them into this profession only for them to vehemently shake their head “No! It’s fine! I- I enjoy it! It, uh, it also gives me something else to do than worry about our existence.”

He couldn’t argue with that. It was something that he lacked. Everything he did was dedicated to this new nation after all and he would lie, and he did, if this didn’t take a bit of a toll on him sometimes.

Once they arrived at the bench, Wilbur softly placed down the wool next to the seating area as Y/N carefully returned the extra wool back on top. They then sat down on the bench while taking out their tools out of their inventory to turn the wool into yarn or thread.

It wasn’t unusual finding them working here, especially when the weather was playing nice. Often enough sitting together with other people in sometimes comfortable silence or happy chatter. Either making thread, stitching or whatever work they had to do and could do outside.

“Thank you, Wilbur! I’m sure you are busy so I won’t keep you longer but you are welcome to join me if you are done with work before me.”

Wilbur picked some of the stray wool off his uniform and sighed, not particularly looking forward to the work “Yeah. I’ll come around if I can. I’m going to meet up with Tommy in a bit so he might join as well, not sure though.”

Y/N nervously chuckled “Yeah, don’t worry. I know.”

They then begun to set up their tools to start working. Not even looking after Wilbur who begun walking off again in a snail’s pace. He really wasn’t looking forward to his work at the moment but alas it was very important.

It took a bit, but he soon arrived at the building he and Tommy set up as something of a headquarter. It was basically just a room covered in maps, scrapped ideas, plans and a few weapon and armor pieces.

Tommy was already waiting inside for him. He looked a bit annoyed with his arms in front of his chest. Before he could complain to him though Wilbur already threw his arm around Tommy and led him to his latest sketched out plan for L’Manburg. Trying to distract him with work.

They were mostly discussing how to ensure the safety of the new nation and how to create a functioning system inside that would ensure that everything inside would move along smoothly.

Hours passed as they schemed and begun setting a few safety measures up or helped the residents of L’Manberg where they could. Jack Manifold later joined them as well. Helping and even offering ideas of his own to incorporate.

“I think that is all we can do for today. I’m getting seriously tired.” Jack sighed, cleaning the dust off his hands on his own clothes.

“You’re going home?” Tommy asked.

Jack crossed his arms, his eyes wandered off to the side behind his mismatched glasses as he thought for a second “Mh, I was hoping we could hang a bit, you know, outside of work. Haven’t done that in a while.”

“Oh! I promised to maybe spend some time with Y/N if they are still at their pond!” Wilbur suddenly exclaimed, remembering the exchange from a few hours ago.

A happy smile appeared on Jack’s face “Let’s go together then! I haven’t seen them in a while, and it’s been even longer that I hung out with them while they worked. It’s always very calming for some reason.” The last part he muttered but Wilbur caught it.

He wasn’t the only one who thought like this. Most of the people in L’Manberg were drawn to them especially in this chaotic time. It was nice having someone like that around.

“Guess I’ll come with you.” Tommy suddenly exclaimed, pulling Wilbur back out of his thoughts.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, why not. I need to ask them to look at my coat anyhow.”

With that the group begun moving, it was slowly getting darker, but it was still warm outside, so if they were lucky, Y/N was still out.

They were chatting about what they were planning to do next or in Jack’s and Tommy’s case what they have been up to only for them to get interrupted by a tune that the wind carried over to them.

A bit surprised Wilbur looked at the others, hoping to see if they too hear it and true enough, they seemed to be just as surprised as them. Someone was singing but he has never heard a voice like this.

Frankly, it was beautiful.

The tune was sounding sad and yet the lyrics that accompanied it were hopeful. Wishing for peace in a time of turmoil. Promises of a better time filled with a deep love via the voice.

It was a song that none of them ever have ever heard. An original song perhaps?

But what really surprised them was from what direction the music came from.

It came from the pond. From Y/N’s bench.

Almost as if they were worried to scare away a wild animal, they begun to sneak towards said pond. Staying off the path and taking a wild berth. Hiding behind the trees, trying to avoid that if their hunch were right, that Y/N wouldn’t see them approaching.

Wilbur pressed his index finger against his pursed lips as they got closer, motioning for the others to keep quiet. To which Tommy just rolled his eyes, seeing how this was obvious.

Jack slowly moved around the tree and there he saw it.

Y/N was sitting on the bench, their legs crossed with a piece of fabric in their hands that they seemed to stich another L’Manburg flag into. Slowly moving their head from one side to the next to the rhythm of the song.

Wilbur followed suit, using his superior height to peak his head out above Jack while Tommy crouched down to do the same.

They were still intently staring at their handiwork, pushing the nail and thread into the cloth only to pull it out again. Their mouth turned into a happy little smile as they sang this hopefully hymn.

“Wow, I didn’t think they could sing like that.” Jack whispered, looking up to Wilbur.

He nodded, his eyes continuing to rest on Y/N’s happy expression “Yeah. It’s beautiful.”

“I guess it’s fine.” Tommy just whispered back. Of course, he still had to put on his cool dude persona.

Wilbur flicked Tommy’s head “Just say for once what you really think!” He still made sure to keep his voice down, not having heard enough of the song and Y/N’s voice yet.

Tommy scowled and jumped back so he was standing at his full height again “What do you mean? I say what I think! The hell are you talking about!” He tried to keep his voice down but at the end he got louder which made Wilbur panic and clasp his hand around Tommy’s mouth.

Though Tommy saw this coming and dodged out of the way by ducking, resulting in Wilbur to fall over. Crashing into Tommy and pushing him onto the ground, both of them letting out a startled yell.

The singing immediately stopped.

“Ah! Look what you have done!” Jack whined, helping the two reluctantly up.

“Well, if Tommy would have shut his mouth!”

“You attacked me!”

“I did not! I was trying to shut you up!”

“Guys?” a soft and unsure voice broke through their argument.

All three men slowly turned around to see Y/N clutching the piece of cloth they had been working on close to their chest. Avoiding any eye contact. Their face covered in a deep blush. Chewing on their lower lip.

“Are you okay? I- I heard a thud and- I just- I wanted to make sure-“ they stammered.

Tommy seemed to be confused at that “What? No. You were singing though, right Y/N?” Getting straight to the point apparently.

“Tommy!” Both Jack and Wilbur yelled out in outrage.

Y/N’s eyes widened, and they moved the cloth up to their face. Effectively hiding behind it “No. I- uh. I’m sorry?”

“What are you sorry for? Your voice is amazing! Why haven’t you told us you can sing?” Wilbur stepped closer. His eyes wide as well but in amazement.

Though Y/N seemed to cower down even more the closer he got “Because- Because I can’t. Please just forget about it.”

Wilbur wanted to know more, hear more of their singing but they seemed panicked. Hiding away and trying to clearly get out of the situation and he had to take a step back. Guilt welling up in him.

“I’m sorry. We just heard your song, and it was beautiful. I have never heard this song. I guess we got enamored by it especially since your singing was really amazing.”

Jack put his hand on Wilbur’s shoulder and pushed him back a few steps “Come on let’s drop it. They are clearly uncomfortable. I’m sorry Y/N.” He then begun pulling Wilbur along, grabbing Tommy in the process as well who just yanked his arm away from him stating he could walk good enough on his own.

“Wilbur?”

He immediately turned around again to see the nervous Y/N with a determined expression on their face. The cloth now back down.

“The song! I mean, uh, my parent taught me that song when I was a child. Apparently, they wrote it.”

“It’s a really beautiful one. Your parent must be very talented. If you feel ever more comfortable enough I would love to hear the full song.”

Y/N took a deep breath in “I know how to play it on guitar and keyboard? I could, uh, you know. Teach it to you?”

Wilbur’s smile returned to his face “Sounds like a plan.”

#mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x Y/N #mcyt reader insert #dsmp reader insert #dsmp x Y/N #dream smp reader insert #dream smp x Y/N #wilbur soot x Y/N #ramza writes #anon request

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babyloposts · 4 years ago

Text

Sleepwalker

OneShot

Pairing: Soul x Maka

Fandom: Soul Eater

Warnings: fluff, nightmares, nudity, language

WordCount: 1.4K+

Summary: Soul has been having unexplainable nightmares as of late and finds that the only way to soothe them are from thinking about Maka. One night his subconscious takes things a little too far and he some how winds up waking up in Maka’s bed.

A/N: I love platonic SoMa almost as much as I love them romantically, but just them caring for each other is so fucking cute in any sense. So enjoy this cute fluffy stuff cuz I’m in that kind of mood

Darkness encompassed everything for miles. Shadows ran amuck against the walls that dripped black blood. Soul looked down at his legs. They were stuck in place. No way of getting out of the tar like substance his lower body was trapped in. This couldn’t be the end it just couldn’t.

Suddenly a voice eerily familiar echoed off of every building in the darkened city and rattled through his brain. “Don’t fight it anymore Soul. You’re not allowed to have nice things and you know that. Why don’t we get rid of that little Meister of yours so you can remember what your destiny is.” Soul searched everywhere for the source of the voice, but it was disembodied. There was no one out here for miles.

That is until Maka emerged about 50 feet in front of him almost drowning in sticky black ooze. Soul’s breath caught in his throat. How could she be here? She wasn’t apart of this.

“Soul!” The blood curdling yell struck a nerve jolting Soul into action. There was no way this was how it would end. There was no way he could lose everything like this. Using all the might he could muster he began to move his legs. He was moving at a snail’s pace even though he was sprinting with everything he had in him. His feet stuck to the ground with each step and pulled him back to the darkness from which he once came. He wouldn’t go back, couldn’t go back. Not until she was safe.

“Soul! Help Me!” She sounded like she was drowning and crying. So was he. Tears streamed down his face as the end looked closer. He wouldn’t make it in time. She was sinking and he was too fucking slow. No this couldn’t be it, he could go faster.

Soul tried, and pushed, and screamed. It was down to the wire. She was sinking fast and there wasn’t much left he could do to save her. There was only a few feet left, but he couldn’t make it. The blood was already seeping from her mouth and her tear ducts before he even reached her.

“MAKA! NO!”

“S-soul... please Soul... Soul!”

His eyes jolted open as he took in the new scenery. It was familiar in a comforting way. The floors and walls covered in books and plants only bringing warmth to the man still coming off a terrifying high. He breathing stilled as a hand was brought up to his chest, that hand belonging to the owner of the room.

“Soul?” She spoke softly not trying to provoke the fragile giant in her bed.

“Maka...” Soul’s cognitive skills were finally coming back to him as he realized this was not where he had fallen asleep. Somehow in the time it took for him to pass out in his bedroom and have that nightmare he had ended up... in his meister’s bedroom. “How...?”

Maka shook her head and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “I’m just as surprised as you apparently, but...” Maka shied away. She had awoken to Soul quivering by her side. She didn’t know how long he had been there, but... there were tears.

Soul sat up fully and dropped his head into his hands. Why now of all times? Right before a big mission. It didn’t make sense. He hadn’t slept-walked since he was a child and now all of a sudden he starts up and climbs into his best friend’s bed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I haven’t... done this, in a long time.”

“You didn’t scare me. I’m just worried about you.” Her palm moved from his chest to his cheek, doing anything she could to be comforting. Soul sighed, he felt like a baby and how could he not. He was basically crawling into “mommy’s” bed after a bad dream. He was fucking crying. His disdain for himself replaced all the fearful and vulnerable emotions from before.

“Soul. What was it about?” Maka questioned hesitantly.

“Nothing. Just had me scared a little.” He brushed off, but Maka wasn’t buying it.

“Nothing? Really? You crawled into my bed at 3AM.”

“Well if you wanted me to leave you could’ve just said that.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Maka outstretched her arm to make him stay, but not before realizing the actual elephant in the room. “S-Soul you’re... naked.” Maka pulled away quickly and covered her eyes.

If Soul wasn’t embarrassed before he certainly was now. His cheeks burned red hot and he grabbed the closest thing he could find to cover himself. Wrapping Maka’s towel around his waist he sat himself on the edge of the bed and prepared for the scolding that was sure to ensue.

“Are you decent?”

“Y-yeah.” He sighed. Maka opened her eyes to see him facing away from her with his head held in his hands.

“That’s my towel.” She chuckled.

“I’ll wash it.”

Maka laughed at the hint of annoyance in his voice, but quickly regained her worry for the boy. He wouldn’t sleep walk into her room, or cry if that dream was just “a little bit scary”.

“Seriously Soul, what’s wrong? You can tell me anything, you know?”

Soul sat pouting for a minute more before giving in. He barely had any dignity left anyway.

“The dreams. They’re about you.” He sighed. He couldn’t look at her, wouldn’t dare try to gauge her reaction now. She probably thought he was pathetic. “I keep seein you, all surrounded in black blood and drowning. And I can never save you. I’m never fast enough. I usually wake up around the time that you die. And for my own conscience I come and... check on you.”

Maka stayed silent allowing Soul the space to say what he needed. She didn’t know how to feel. Dream analysis usually says that if someone close to you dies in a dream that could mean good fortune, or the start of something new, but she doubted Soul’s dreams were anything less than literal.

“I know it’s stupid, but I always check. To make sure you’re still okay. And I guess... I don’t know. They say old habits die hard, hence the sleepwalking and I’m sorry. You’re just the only thing that can ease my mind when I get like this.”

No words were passed between the duo, just Maka’s arms coming to rest around Soul’s shoulders and her head lodged in the crook of his neck. “I’m right here.”

Soul felt like it was the first time he could breathe that night. Finally he felt that comfort he had been looking for. He moved a hand back to pat Maka’s head as a ‘thank you’. “Thanks Maka. I needed that.”

Maka released soul from his captivity within her embrace. Reluctantly he stood and started for the door. “I’ll get you a new towel.” He chuckled awkwardly.

“You’re leaving?” It was the first time he was able to catch her gaze since the admission. He studied her face. Those bright green eyes luring him towards her.

“W-well, I figured I might as well try to get another hour of sleep in while I can.”

“What if the nightmares come back?”

“Are you asking me to stay?”

“Only if that’s what you want.” That’s exactly what he wanted. To have Maka right beside him assuring them both that they would be okay. Soul smirked at Maka before turning to leave her bedroom without another word.

Maka sighed and flopped down onto her back. Soul was so stupid sometimes. He wasn’t the only one who worried. She worried about him being safe all the time. If only he would let himself be vulnerable sometimes, at least around her.

Approaching footsteps brought Maka out from her thoughts. Soul appeared in the doorway again, now with shorts on. He closed the door behind himself and slunk in next to Maka on the bed. He sighed to himself before meeting her gaze with a small content smile on his face.

“Thanks for worrying about me.” He smiled.

“You’re not the only one who worries, Soul. I just wanna be here for you okay?” She let a delicate finger trace along his jawline in reassurance. He nodded and sighed at the comforting touch.

“We should get some sleep.” He suggested. Maka agreed, but she still had one last thought lingering at the back of her mind.

“Yeah we should. But Soul...”

“Hm?”

“You sleep naked?” Maka couldn’t even try to contain her giggles as Soul groaned in annoyance. He turned so that his back was facing her to hide the embarrassment prevalent on his cheeks.

“Shut up. I get hot at night!”

#babylowrites #soma #soul eater fluff #soul x maka #black writers #soul evans #soul eater soul #soul eater maka #soul eater imagines

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unknown-writing · 4 years ago

Text

The boys reacting to their s/o pulling themselves out of a Bad Depressive Relapse:

Warning(s): Mentions of depression, Intrusive thoughts, self-destructive behavior’s

A/N: I’m very proud of myself for pulling myself out of my bad depressive relapse episode this morning so, it’s time to write some comfort!

This man is pretty dense when it comes to dealing with other people’s internal suffering tbh.

Like, unless your outwardly showing signs of pain, he won’t fully get it.

He noticed that you were...Not your usual self for a while. A long while at that, it started to worry him that you weren’t laughing with him anymore for that period of your slump.

But, one morning, an early morning that is, you had snuck out of your room that you shared with the girls to find Luffy for some much needed Cuddling.

Ever so quietly moving towards his bed, you slowly climbed in. Him feeling movement on top of him startled him awake but, he kept quiet.

Seeing that you were the one crawling in his bed, literally made him have the biggest grin on his dorky face you’ve ever seen.

“Welcome back y/n-san” He whispered as he pulled you in for a tighter cuddle session, you couldn’t help but chuckle but, you kept quiet to avoid waking the other boys.

Soon enough, it was morning, and the rest of the crew saw that you two were finally cuddling again after your depressive slump.

Nami so took a picture with the Camera-snail for blackmail evidence to tease you with.

Seeing you severely depressed drove him Mad.

Not because he was mad /at you/ But because he was mad at /himself/ for not noticing it sooner than he should have.

Robin tried telling him about your depressive slump but, Zoro was completely clueless on what she was getting at.

“My y/n? Depressed? Why? She looks perfectly fine to me.”

That line was a big mistake on his part since you accidentally heard that, which sort of drove you over the edge again

Ngl, it took him quite a while for him to start making it up to you again after that night. His guilty conscious refused to let him rest peacefully until things where settled between you two again

Weeks went by, and even though most of the Straw Hats assumed you where still depressed, Zoro sensed otherwise.

It seemed like to him that you were finally starting to shed your light again, even if it was a slow start at first.

One day though, while the two of you were on grocery duties to help Sanji since he took the role of guard duty this round. You grabbed his arm and hugged it tightly.

it startled him at first because he thought he was being kidnapped or something, but once he saw that you had just grabbed onto it and acted so casually about it

This mans started to blush a pink hue. A brief silenced filled the air between you two before he spoke up,

“...Y/n-san....” He paused before turning towards you, “Is everything ok now? And I don’t mean that fake bullshit ‘Ok’ either...” he asked while looking concerned

You looked up to him, with the biggest smile he’d ever seen. Even if it was a small one, the fact that you smiled again after so long of not smiling, it drove him Wild.

“Yeah...........Yeah.......Everything’s gonna be ok now.” You started off before holding his hand firmly, “I have my Nakama...And I have you by my side. So, I’m no longer alone anymore.” You smiled again while looking up to Zoro, who still had the blush but, a genuine smile back

“That’s my girl.” Zoro just says while bending down to give you a quick peck on the forehead, which made you blush a deep crimson red seeing as you two were in public still.

Okay but, you /KNOW/ this idiot is gonna think it’s his fault your depressed.

He’ll constantly blame himself for your sadness, as it’s not something that could be easily cured with affection or food.

He’s even more sad when he can’t dote on you so much because it makes you feel even worse.

You have to keep reminding him that this was just how your brain worked sometimes.

It wasn’t until Nami and Chopper explaining it to him properly, is when he started to finally understand that some people just feel down and needed some space for a bit.

Even when he was giving you your personal space, he still made you your favorite foods, making sure that you had stuff to drink and eat even if you were cooped up in your bedroom for a long time.

He won’t admit it directly but, he genuinely misses you. He misses your smell, your touch, your face, your body, your everything.

He especially misses the way you can easily fluster him and make him feel like a King, but he’ll deny those feelings if you asked him though.

A couple of month’s had gone by of this depressive state of yours. it was starting to take a mental tole on himself, knowing that you were stuck in those same four walls, missing everything that was happening, being unable to help you at all during this.

Just as he was about to head towards the sleeping cabin area to drop off your next meal, he’d noticed that your door was slightly open. He blinked, confused and worried that somebody had tried sneaking inside of it somehow.

But soon enough, you had popped out, yawning as you’d just woken up that morning. Nothing had harmed you physically from the looks of it, he looked up and down for a while before placing the food tray on a nightstand to avoid spilling the food.

You turn after hearing the tray clink against the wooden surface, “Oh? Morning Sanji-sa--Ouf!” You where cut off from a tackle hug.

Sanji had wrapped his arms around you tightly, holding you so close to him you were practically choking on his hair. “S-Sanji?? Is everything alright?” You asked, patting his back gently

Your eyes widened as the next thing he did was give you a big passionate kiss on your lips. You felt salty fluids on his face. “Oh.” You thought as you realized what was happening

“I missed you so fucking much y/n-chan.” Sanji says after the kiss. Hearing him say that so bluntly made /you/ turn red-faced and start to stutter.

“....Yeah....I missed you too Sanji-san.” You admitted while smiling again after so long of not showing your smile to anybody. Poor Sanji nearly fainted.

Law knew something was off about you even before you realized it yourself.

You were grumpy, snippy, more “tired” than normal. You had constant mood swings that showed up out of the blue. Everything was just...Off.

It didn’t take much for him to realize that you were dealing with Depression. Although he knew very little of your past, he knew that something was eating at you.

Once your downward spiral of your mental suffering began, you stayed in your bedroom for the majority of the time, refusing to go out even if it was for a general meeting for a mission, or even for food.

Law wasn’t the best at communicating his own feelings towards somebody, so helping his crush with her depression was a little bit harder to do than he thought.

He didn’t realize that you would get so bad that you just woke up absolutely /screaming/ at the top of your lungs during a nightmare. The only reason he knew what was happening was because Bepo went to drop off some food for you, and then ran once he heard the screaming.

After a while of some studying on Depression, Law tried everything that he could to at least /try/ to get you to speak with him...But, after a few weeks of this, he started to get tired of chasing you.

“Y/n-ya...At least let me check for injuries.” He said as he sat on the floor, leaning against your bedroom door with a frown....No response.

He could hear silent sobbing and hiccups behind him, which hurt because he didn’t know how to help you! it drove him Mad!

He was about to give up, sighing in irritation. As he started to walk away, he heard the bedroom door start to click open. You peaked your head out tiredly, face stained with dried and fresh tears, your face all red from not just crying but from stress as well.

Seeing you so Broken hurt him. He’s been there before, he’d never wish to see his friends be broken like this...Let alone his crush.

You opened the door wider so that way he could come in, “...sorry....For the mess...” You weakly spoke, allowing him to enter your room.

Once the two of you were in your room, you had shut the door, then locked it behind you...Eventually turning to face Law, the next moved startled him

You were so tired from the depression night terrors, the screaming, the crying and well...Everything else...That you just fainted into his arms! “Y-Y/n-ya??” He questioned as he stood still. No response...Well, nothing with words anyways. A soft snore leaked passed your slightly open mouth

You had fallen asleep, quite literally in his arms. And he didn’t know how to handle it. You were his crush after all! What was he supposed to do!? Move you away!? Fuck.

He calmed down and carried you bridal style in his arms, thanking God that you were a heavy sleeper, and shuffled his way onto your messy bed, kicking his shoes off at least before getting comfortable.

Another week had passed since that night, and throughout that week, law would give orders to Bepo and Penguin to take control of the ship while he stayed put. he would only move to take a piss/shit or a quick shower before rushing to your side again. He’d forgo the shower if waking you would cause you to feel alone and start crying again.

Once that week had passed though, you had woken up to feel a body underneath you. Blinking, you were confused as to what was happening. You then blushed a deep crimson red seeing Law underneath you, holding you so tightly to him that you could hardly breathe properly because of it.

Law had woken up after feeling your movements to try and get out of bed and take a shower, since you hadn’t taken a proper one in the past three weeks due to your depressive state hitting you like a two ton truck.

You then felt an arm snake around your lower waste, pinning you down of sorts, which made you jump a bit and turn to see who’s it was. Only to see Law wide awake and looking upwards at you

A brief silence filled the room before Law had spoke. “Y/n-ya......You’re Ok.” he says quietly, trying not to startle you...Soon, the memories of what you went through during your depressive state had hit you. You saw everything that happened. And then you saw that Law had tried his hardest to get you to feel ok.

You started to cry again, which made him frown in worry, only to . be taken aback by the sudden tackle hug you were doing, “Law!” You kept muttering in between your hiccupped sobs as you held him.

All Law did was rub your head gently and held you close to him again. He didn’t know how to respond. “....You saved me.....” You commented, now hovering over him with a shaky smile.

Those words. Those three single words made his heart melt with pure happiness. A feeling he hasn’t had in a LONG while. Despite the fact that he hated being called a Hero, if he could save /you/ from death? Then he’ll take being called a Hero by you any day.

You just kept hiccupping as you cried of happiness, but that was easily silenced with Law’s next action. You felt Law’s rougher lips against your own, which easily made you stop crying. He broke the kiss after a while and smiled back, “...I’m glad that your Ok y/n-ya.” he says before pulling you down for another kiss

#luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #law x reader #holy fuck this got long #sorry that law's was long but listen #I love Law ok #tw// depression

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hoseokisgucci · 4 years ago

Text

You Lift Me Up

GENRE: Fluff and Smut

WORD COUNT: 5K

PAIRING: Taehyung x Reader

SUMMARY: Taetae here sees OC at the gym, one day helps her out a little when she gets injured and somehow ends up in her bed.

WARNING: Tbh there’s some oral in there (fem receiving), some body worship, a lil of undiscovered kinks showing a sneak peek, penetrative sex, a little dialogue heavy, Taehyung being softboi max.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I originally uploaded this without the smut, but then deleted it, and now I’m putting it up again because I finally got around to finishing it. I definitely wanted to write something gym related because its my safe space but I really also wanted to make it soft because IM AN IDIOT FOR PEOPLE FALLING IN LOVE/FINDING THEIR PEOPLE.

“How different would it be anyways? I’ll just ask someone for help if I need it. It’s not like I’ll be abandoned by everyone just because I don’t have a partner.”

“Hey! We didn’t abandon you!! We have exams. Our university made you lonely, not us.” Your friend squawked over the phone.

Taking advantage of this new found chink in her armor, you added, “Yes. An institution is more important than I am. I see how it is. Hungry, partner-less and overcome with despair. That’s my life now.”

She huffed, and you could just imagine her shaking her head at you. “You’re a heathen. I’ll buy you food. Now bye. Duty calls.”

You laughed out an affirmative and slid the phone into the side pocket of your gym bag. The university gym was located close to your dorms, which made it easier for you to haul your ass to the gym even on your lazy days. You were already wondering what it would be like without a partner. You always had friends with you at the gym, be it one or two. You never had to worry about spotting or support ever before, but now these questions crossed your mind. Scenarios where you dropped a dumbbell on your toe or worse, your face flashed before your eyes. You shuddered when a haunting crack resounded in your ears, the sound reminding you to be wary of heavy lifting while you were on your own.

Getting started on your workout was easy enough. A little warmup here, a bit of running and cycling there. The music pumping through your ears helped you keep up the pace as you cycled, body starting to sweat, lips mouthing the words of the song playing through your earphones. When you hit the 15-minute mark, you figured it would be alright to cycle for 5 more minutes.

Just as the song changed, and you looked down to check if the lever for your seat was proper, your heart came up to your throat as someone tapped you. With your hand over your heart, legs coming to a stop, you turned to see the most gorgeous man ever. Scratch that. The most gorgeous being ever.

Lost in your head, you only came to when you realized that his lips were supposed to be forming coherent sentences. That were aimed at you. Raising your hand, your palm faced towards him, you said, “Wait, I can’t hear you.” His lips grimaced, as if embarrassed and he nodded his head. When you turned off your music, paused your timer and turned to look at him, torso twisting in his direction, his eyes quickly snapped to yours, as if he wasn’t just checking out the swell of your ass perched on the tiny cycle seat. You raised your brows at him, which probably kickstarted his brain again. He gulped and said,

“How long will you take?”

You were about to retort and tell him that there were other cycles too, but when you turned the other way, you saw that all of them were occupied.

“Maybe around 4 more minutes.” He nodded in response, gave a quick smile, and when he was about to turn away, you tapped his hand, grabbing his attention once more. You didn’t know why you felt good, having those eyes on you. You were probably going crazy, you imagination making you see the electricity in them.

Rethinking about your situation, you said, “Actually, I’ll get off. I was just going to do some extra cycling, but you can get started.”

He shook his head, curly hair bouncing around as he said, “No no, please take your time. I’ll just stretch some while you’re getting done.”

You nodded your head and smiled at him, hoping that he could understand how grateful you were. You got back to cycling, starting up the movement of your legs once again. Without the music to keep you occupied your eyes wandered to the mirror in front of you. As you scanned your surroundings, you noticed the guy from before, stretching his arms, gazed fixed on your form. The intensity with which he kept looking at you almost made your legs flounder, but you concentrated on maintaining your momentum.

Sighing inwardly, your eyes moved backed to him. He hadn’t noticed you looking at him, because he wasn’t focused on your face, but rather your ass. Wanting to add fuel to the fire, you stuck your ass out a little more and arched your back a little more, making your body look a little more tantalizing. As you did this, you could see his eyes widen a little, hands now hanging limp. You discreetly kept looking at him, and could see him scan your form, his gaze focusing on your face. You cycled a bit more aggressively, the motion moving you from side to side.

If he was watching, you might as well give him a good show. When you eyed him again, he was bent over, legs spread wide, hands touching the ground, stretching. But his eyes, they didn’t leave you, or rather, your butt, even once.

Your timer beeped, signaling the end of your 20 minutes. You slowed down your legs and sat there, catching your breath. When you looked at yourself in the mirror, your cheeks were flushed, sweat dotting your forehead and your face glistened. You looked thoroughly wrecked. He was still looking at you. You got off the cycle, walked to him and said, “Its all yours.”

He nodded, and you walked away. You breezed through the rest of the workout, mind occupied with thoughts of big hands and one beautiful man.

Through the next week, you kept seeing him at the gym, on a machine or doing a rep. You weren't ignoring him, per se, but what the hell would you go and say to him? "Hey I think you're pretty hot, come over and choke me?"

Definitely not.

A week without a partner goes by with no problems, but its like your beginner luck in the world of solo exercising has run out when you lose your balance while doing weighted squats. Even before starting the set, you were a bit worried, because the rod itself weighed 32 kgs, and you had added plates of 10 kgs. You never imagined that you'd get injured at the gym out of all places but, alas! Your time had come. When you felt that you had no control over the bar and your body anymore, you tried to brace yourself for impact, but two hands lifted the bar off of your shoulders, which allowed your body to gain some balance. When you looked at the mirror, you saw cycle dude holding the bar in his hands. You quickly turned around and helped him rack it.

With frantic eyes, he scans your body for any apparent injuries and asks,

"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Uh no, I don’t think so. Just that, my knee might be a little sprained."

His eyes focus on your knee, hands out in front of him, ready to support you. You start walking, but you can feel a slight tinge in your right knee when you put pressure on it. The discomfort might show on your face, because he wraps your arm around his shoulder, and urges you to put your weight on him. He walks you to the bench and sits you down, your leg extended in front of you.

Squatting near your leg, fingers brushing the hair our of his eyes and off of his forehead, he asks,

"Can you call someone to take you home?"

You take a minute to think if there's anyone who actually could take you home at this moment. And you come up with no one. You tell him so.

Tentatively, eyes now darting here and there, he says

"Uh, would you mind if I dropped you off?"

You blurt out, "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why would you do that? You don't even know me."

"Well I, uh, might have a small crush on you. Not in a creepy way! I just think you're kinda cute. And I would feel better if I knew you'd get home safely."

Welp. That's kinda endearing.

"Okay. Let's go."

He asks for your locker number, goes and gets both of your bags and comes to get you. For a few minutes, you walk with your arm around his

shoulder, half of your weight held up by him. Your pace is probably slower than a snail, what with you trying to clumsily hop and him trying to support you. He stops and says,

"Okay, let's get you on my back. You can point in what direction you wanna go and I'll carry you. It'll be faster and way better for you."

You try to protest but he's already hanging both of your bags around his neck and getting on his haunches in front of you, hands ready to hold your legs. So you climb on.

As he starts walking, he says,

"I'm Taehyung by the way, your beloved servant."

"Well, my dear servant, you shall call me princess then," you cheekily reply as you tighten your hold around his neck.

He laughs and shakes his head, huffing out, "Wow, the audacity."

"I'm sorry. Thank you so much, I'll be indebted to you forever. You're too kind," you sincerely say to him.

He just hums in response, so you leave it at that. Your dorm building isn't that far, so you make it there in no time. You get in the lift, and once it opens on your floor, you tell Taehyung your dorm number.

You tell him your door code, and he walks you in, going straight to your couch and sitting you down. He takes the bags from his neck and puts them aside. Next, he takes off your shoes and puts them near your door.

"Okay, do you mind if I check your fridge? Is there anything like an icepack? To put on your knee?"

"Yeah, there is an ice pack."

He grabs the ice pack, fills it with ice cubes and holds it on your knee. The freezing sensation

sends a twinge down your knee. He urges you to hold the ice pack and goes to the kitchen. When he comes back, he presses a glass of water to your lips, and you drink.

Once you're done, he sets the glass on the coffee table, and settles beside you, grabbing your leg and gently getting it on his lap, urging you to lie down, with your head resting on the armrest. He holds your leg with one hand, and tenderly ices your knee with the other. The action makes you relax your body, all the stress unwinding. Taehyung doesn't say anything, his eyes concentrated on your knee. Feeling the pain in your knee numbing, you close your eyes.

The next thing you know, Taehyung in shaking you awake, calling out your name in his low baritone. When you gain some semblance of consciousness, the first thing that you register is the fragrance of food. Your stomach grumbles, and Taehyung chuckles at you. He helps you sit up, and shoves a takeout box in your hand. You thank him and dig in. Once you're done, he cleans up and comes back to sit beside you.

"How are you feeling now?"

You flex your leg a little, and when it doesn't hurt that bad, you say, "It feels better. I'll just take a painkiller and knock out."

He nods his head, hand reaching out to feel over and around your knee. After being satisfied, he rests his hand on your knee, and looks at you. "I'm glad. Just be careful."

In a moment of courage, you rest your hand over his and say,

"I can't thank you enough. For getting me home, taking care of me, feeding me."

His eyes crinkle as he smiles, and he rests his other hand over yours, your palm now sandwiched between two of his. He leans closer to you, and whispers,

"You don't have to thank me, doll. But I can think of a few things you could do."

The way he says these words makes tingles run up your spine, the intent clear in eyes, made clearer by his words. You close your eyes and lean back on the sofa, knowing that Taehyung's eyes are fixed on you. The knowledge that this kind, breathtakingly beautiful man has a crush on you, and moreover wants you, gives you the confidence to act a little, if not more coy. With your head now tilted towards the ceiling and your eyes closed, you channel your inner heathen and say,

"And what would they be, hmm?"

When you hear him suck a breath in beside you, you smirk inwardly. You wait for him to say something, but he just retracts his hands from yours. This action makes you open your eyes and tilt your head to look at him, question clear in your gaze.

Just as you're about to sit up and say something, you're hit with a face full of Taehyung, and suddenly his palms are grabbing your face and his lips are on yours. The shock makes your eyes widen, but as you register what's going on, your eyes close and your hand fists his shirt as you kiss him back.

Taehyung's lips feel way better than you could ever imagine, and the warmth seeping into your skin from his palms makes this experience feel real, and not just fantasy. When his lips suck on your lower lip a little harder, you arch your back, your upper body lifting off the couch. This makes him slide one hand off of your cheek and around your waist, and he pulls your body closer to his.

At this point, he's basically straddling you. When his tongue probes your mouth, one of your hands grab the back of his hair and pull. The low groan he lets out as you disconnect from his mouth and start sucking on his neck makes you quiver, the thought of hearing the same baritone in your ear as he pounds into you making you want him even more. He parts from you, and as he sits up, your hands leave his body.

"What do you want?"

You bite your lip, and instead of answering, one of your hand rises to his waistband. Instantly, his hand grips yours, and as he smiles, he leans down to kiss your palm. Against it, he whispers,

"Want me to eat you out? Wanna cum on my tongue?"

You gulp at the thought of this man between your legs, and nod at him. Something in his face hardens, and he drops your hand, only to lean over you and grip your chin.

"Use your words, baby doll. What do you say?"

You maintain eye contact with him and whisper,

"Yes."

Though your answer makes him loosen his grip on your jaw, only makes him move closer to you.

"Yes what?"

"Yes sir."

At your answer, Taehyung's eyes widen, and then a smirk spreads across his face. His hands urge you out of your top, and he throws it over his shoulder, uncaring as to where it lands.

His eyes take you in, and in a second he's getting off you and pulling your leggings and underwear down your body. You struggle a little to lift your ass off the couch, a little pain shooting through your knee at the pressure. Taehyung makes you rest your injured leg straight on the coffee table. After making sure you're comfortable, he leans down you kiss you, on of his hands making their way to your tits. When he squeezes and twists a nipple, your body arches off the couch, legs spreading wider.

Once Taehyung's satisfied from claiming your mouth, he gets down on his knees in between your legs. For the first time, you see hesitation cross his eyes as he nibbles his lower lip. You lean up, and say,

"I want you. Please make me cum, please."

A smile blooms on his face, eyes lighting up as his hands move up your thighs. He leans forward, kissing up the inside of your left thigh, his hands squeezing where they hold you. After a few kisses, he suddenly bites, which makes you reach out to grip his hair as you moan.

Indifferent to your reaction, he moves forward, his hands widening your legs as he comes face to face with your core. Sounding absolutely wrecked, he says,

"Fuck I can't wait to taste you."

With this, he kisses your mound, and then spreads your outer lips.

"Holy shit, darling, it's all for me, right?"

You card your hands through his hair as you whisper an affirmative. Happy with your response, Taehyung leans in and envelops your clit in his lips, and sucks. Slowly, he starts making strokes with his tongue, delving deeper. He speeds up the motions of his tongue, now moving it in and out, and puts a finger in your core. The slide is tight, and it makes you both moan. But he doesn't stop, if anything, he gets even more determined.

Soon, he adds another finger and his tongue moves onto your clit. The added stimulation makes the knot in your core tighten, the arousal pulsing stronger in your veins. He takes his mouth off of your clit with a pop and leans back to see his fingers scissoring as they move inside you. You tilt your head down to take a look at him, and dear God above, he looks wrecked. His hair is all messed up, thanks to your fingers, and his lips are swollen and glistening, and you're pretty sure his chin is too.

Fuck.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as this visual ingrains itself in your eyes, a whimper falling from your mouth as you say,

"Fucking God, please fuck me. Want you so bad, please."

"I'll think about it if you cum like a good girl first."

His fingers speed up, and he leans down to capture you clit in his mouth again. This time, he's absolutely brutal with the way he goes at you, nothing gentle about his mouth or his fingers. Just as you feel yourself climbing up to a climax, he adds another finger, his tongue now flicking across your clit.

As you get closer to the finish line, your moans turn into curse words, your voice getting louder.

"Fucking Hell, Taehyung, don't stop! Shit! I'm s-so close, please, please, I'm gonna c-cum!"

Saying nothing Taehyung curves his fingers inside you as he lightly bites on your clit, and that's all it takes for you to let go. Your body pulls taut, legs shaking around him, hips riding his fingers. His fingers and his mouth guide you along your high, and even after you've come down, his mouth still keeps laving over your clit. You moan in oversensitivity and that's when he deems it enough.

He gets up, but groans out while straightening his legs. You giggle at his facial expression, and he stands over you, hands on his hips, mouth drawn into a pout.

"I just ate you out but you're laughing at me, huh?"

This makes you laugh out loud, and you say,

"Can't believe you're a grandpa."

His mouth falls open, flabbergasted. His mouth tries and fails to form a word, and his mouth just bubbles out a laugh. He's shaking his head as he takes off his tee, and throws it on the couch beside you. Oh you're definitely not laughing now.

"Well, this grandpa did get you off, baby doll. Now, where's the bedroom?"

He leans down to pick you up, his hands urging your thighs to wrap around his hips, your arms wrapping around his neck. You hold on tighter when he stands up straight with you in his arms. He leads you to the bedroom, kicking the door open and walking in. He lays you down on the duvet slowly, mindful of jostling your leg.

Once you're lying on the bed, he goes to get a pillow and puts it below your knee. You make eye contact with him, hoping your smile conveys how grateful you are. He smiles at you, expression shy. Pointing at the bedside table, you say,

"The condoms are in here."

He raises an eyebrow, but gets a condom and climbs on the bed. Once he's in between your legs, one of his hands knead your thigh, the action relaxing your muscles, making you let out a sigh. Seeing your reaction, he leans down to kiss your tummy, trailing light kisses down to your pelvis.

"You look so beautiful like this. So lovely."

His hand glides up your inner thigh, two fingers plunging into you without warning. He pulls out, only to push back in, your soft wet walls accommodating to his ministrations easily. When he doesn't hear you making a sound, he scissors his fingers, and starts sucking a hickey on your hipbone. A shiver runs through you, and you let out a whimper at the sudden influx of stimulus.

"Such a sweetheart, huh? Always ready to let me know how good I'm making you feel."

As he says this, he adds another finger, and the added stretch makes you arch off the bed. Soon, Taehyung has you moaning his name, your hands reaching out to hold onto the bedsheet. Taehyung slows down his fingers, and asks you,

"What do you want? Tell me. Tell me and I'll give it to you."

The husk in his voice makes you groan, the timber of it sending trills of arousal shooting through you.

"Want you to fuck me. Now. Right now."

Pulling his fingers out of you, he whispers, "Then that's what you'll get, baby."

He takes off his gym shorts and his underwear, his cock standing hard and proud, the tip glistening with precum. While stroking his cock, he says,

"Although everything in me is telling me to fuck you like the devil you are, I don't wanna add to your injuries. So let's have you wrap you legs around me, okay?"

Actually processing what he said, you try to move your leg, but the twinge of pain has you nodding your head in agreement.

Seeing your approval, he gives you a smile and tears open the condom. Your eyes trace him as he kneels between your legs. The soft curls falling into his eyes, the slope of his nose, adding to his charm. The strength visible in his shoulders, all the way down to his arms, makes you want things that can only be done behind closed doors. The thoughts of being manhandled, being pushed into the mattress as he takes you run through your head among other lust-filled scenarios, and these make you gulp.

Your eyes follow when he rolls the condom onto himself and strokes his cock in long motions.

His eyes, fall onto you, and seeing how you're entranced by, well, his dick, he chuckles. The sound makes your eyes flit to his, your cheeks already filling with colour, embarrassment flooding your mind.

Taehyung doesn't say anything, just urges your legs to wrap around his waist as he leans over you. That one moment of silence, where you and him are just two people, closer than ever, closer than any galaxies, any stars, seems to last for a lifetime. When he slightly smiles, one of his hands coming up to stroke your hair, you feel a storm brewing where you heart is meant to be. You smile back, and then Taehyung is thrusting into you, the stars in his eyes now clouded by lust.

The first few thrusts are slow, languid and have Taehyung's eyes flitting over your features, looking for any signs of discomfort. But when he finds none, he gains confidence, his hips moving with more purpose, plunging impossibly deeper into you. Your eyes close, head tilting up as your mouth lets out little moans mixed in with whimpers.

Taehyung's thrusts slow down into him just grinding his cock into you, and he grabs your chin to make you look at him.

"Look at me, baby. You feel so good, like heaven. Maybe even more divine than heaven itself."

The sincerity in his eyes as he says this makes your clench around him, throat choking on the words you want to say. You reach out a hand and put it on his shoulder, which makes him pause his movements. Worry flickers across his face as he waits for you to say something.

"G-go faster. Wanna cum. Right now. Please."

The worry on Taehyung's face quickly dissolves into cockiness as he positions himself to pound into you better. His smirk grows as his thrust gets a moan out of you. Continuing with his ministrations, he manages to grunt out,

"This good enough for you, doll?"

When you don't answer him, too busy whimpering, he leans over you and one of his hands reach out and twist your nipple in warning, hips maintaining their momentum.

"Think I asked a question, darling. Come on, now."

The hand you had on his shoulder moves up to the back of his head, and as your fingers entangle in his locks and pull, you say,

"Yes! Yes! Dear God, yes! F-feel good."

He doesn't verbally reply to you, but he hums, the low rumble of his voice making you feel some type of way.

One of his hands land near your head, the other one grabbing your thigh, and its pound town from there. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping on skin mixed in with Taehyung's grunts and your moans. The boy in between your legs turns into a beast chasing just one thing, and he doesn't slow down. The sound of sex resounds in the room, making you feel downright dirty.

Your eyes focus on Taehyung's face contorted in pleasure and his body glistening with a sheen of sweat. Maybe it's this realization, that you have this beautiful man fucking into you that pushes you closer to your climax.

When your walls start clenching around him, the ball of fire in the pit of your stomach so close to bursting, one of your hands reach down, two of your fingers rubbing your clit in desperation.

"That's it. Make yourself cum on my cock. Let me see you cum, baby. Wanna feel you cum for me."

His words are accompanied by his hips moving faster, hitting the spot inside you, making the fire in you unravel. Your back arches off the bed, mouth opening in a whimper as you cum, body drowning in pleasure.

Your walls tighten around Taehyung, making him let out a choked moan. With two, three more thrusts, Taehyung is cumming in the condom. He slumps on you, letting out puffs of air, catching his breath. When Taehyung taps both of your legs gently, you remember that they've been there this whole time, and, holy shit, your fucking knee was fucking sprained. Taehyung, apparently has the same realization, because his concerned wide eyes lock with yours and he slowly untangles your legs. Your knee gives a twinge in protest to movement but as soon as it's straight and on the bed, you feel fine. Taehyung pulls out, and ties the condom off, getting up to go and throw it in the bin.

When he comes back, it's to you playing with your fingers running circles on your navel. You stop your actions when you realize he's back in the room, your cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment. Taehyung mumbles a 'cute' but doesn't say anything else.

Taehyung has a wet towel in one hand, with which he gently wipes between your legs. And when he's done, he leans down to leave a kiss on your forehead, and then he's gone again. Your eyes follow his bubble butt as he leaves the room.

Exhaustion seeps into your bones, and your eyes close. They only open to the sound of something being set down on the bedside table. You open your eyes and turn your head to see that it's a glass of water, and Taehyung, Taehyung is wearing shorts again.

You sit up, grabbing the glass and gulping down the water. The thought that you're still completely naked makes you feel shy, even after all of the things you just did. Taehyung sits

beside you on the bed, taking the glass from your hand and putting it on the table.

"Uhm.."

"I ju-"

Both of you shut up, but when you lock eyes with each other, laughter spills out of you. With a smile on his face, Taehyung speaks first.

"What were you going to say?"

You think for a moment, wondering if what you're about to say will sound weird or not.

"Uh, just that, do you want to stay over?"

With disbelief painting his face, Taehyung asks, "You want me to?"

You try to keep the endearment out of your voice as you deadpan, "Oh no, the monster under my bed just liked your feet and told me to ask you to stay longer."

It takes a moment for your words to register, but when Taehyung realizes what you just said, laughter tumbles from his lips.

Your concerned friends knock on your door the next morning, and a clueless Taehyung opens the door to let them in. Your friends barge in to find you wrapped in a blanket, lying on the couch, Haikyuu! playing on your TV. Taehyung just stands there, neck full of hickies, rampant sex hair, smelling like your body wash.

Your friends look at you for a moment, then turn to Taehyung only to turn back to you. When one of them asks you what the hell you've been doing yesterday and where you've been, you lock eyes with Taehyung as you smugly say,

"What can I even say? It was one heck of a workout."

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfiction #taehyung x you #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #bts fluff #smut and fluff #kim taetae #this is filth #this is also cute #taehyung #bts tae tae #bts #bts fic #bts fanclub #dont hate me

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castthy-nightedcolour · 4 years ago

Text

One- Shot: A Different Side (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the post as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Crowley, a very annoying mouse

Warnings and Tags: snakes, animal death/ harm, swearing, uh oh we have a pest control problem, snake crowley, comfort , are they aren’t they

Summary: mouse traps, a skip full of rubbish and a broken down bus. not exactly your dream day, but your favourite demonic entity has a trick up his sleeve and behind his glasses to help you.

Word Count: 2778

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/81050182

If there was one word to describe your mood, that word would be vile. Tiny little irritants throughout the day had built to a simmering anger:

-Firstly, your bus into town had broken down about ten minutes away from your stop, meaning that you were forced to trek your way to the shops.

-Secondly, your trip to said shops wasn’t for any kind of retail therapy, but was instead to buy mouse traps. Your usually serene flat had been taken over by a little grey rodent who despite any humane efforts, was refusing to leave. You weren’t usually one for violence towards any living thing, but the little shit was out staying its welcome and had most recently been seen taking a bite out of a loaf of bread.

-When you did eventually get into town, it seemed to be the day for the world’s slowest walkers to take to the streets. Everyone was moving at about two steps per minute and you, being naturally speedy, were constantly waiting for gaps on the pavement to overtake. When you did manage to do this, there would be a whole new couple walking side by side, plodding along at a snail’s pace. You weren’t getting anywhere quick.

All in all, not your finest hour. This all came to a head on Oxford Street, or as you liked to call it, hell.

Your brain felt as though it were made of jelly, your temperature was rising, and someone stopped right in the middle of the street to check their phone. Slamming right into the back of them, you immediately let out something resembling a howl before running to your side off down Old Cavendish Street, somewhere slightly quieter. You leaned against the nearest wall, hot anger bubbling within you for what at the time, seemed like a life or death scenario of you getting out of town with the mousetraps, but in retrospect was just the culmination of various shitty things.

The last thing which you wanted to hear was any sign that you were being perceived, but a teenage boy riding past you on a bike shouting an obnoxious ‘WAHEYYYY’ at you was enough to tip you over the edge. You bashed your head back on the wall, feeling acid tears of anger falling, pedalled down your face by your short temper. Then, another shout came towards you from across the street.

‘Y/N? Is that you?’

You were ready to push yourself off the wall to lunge at this person until your brain caught up with recognition. Tilting your head forwards, your suspicions were confirmed when you saw floppy, ginger hair bouncing over the street atop a leather-clad frame. The sunglasses perched on his nose brought you a feeling somewhere between relief and fear.

You and Crowley had a relationship which can only be described as ‘are they? Aren’t they?’

You sure as hell couldn’t tell if he had any romantic feelings for you, and he gave off vibes so mixed that they were jumbled by this point. People always commented on the electricity between the two of you whenever you were together, but you tried not to get your hopes up and usually just put this down to his magnetising nature.

He’d told you about himself, and you thought that he must have trusted you somewhat to be able to disclose that he was a demon to you.

Then again, maybe he was just overly confident.

In the state you were currently in, you couldn’t decide whether to run into his arms to scream, or run as quickly away from him as was physically possible.

Your body chose neither and just stood there, open mouthed and gawking as the tears continued to fall with no effort from your eyelids. Crowley examined you, peering over the top of his sunglasses to try and decipher the scene before him.

‘Don’t tell me someone’s upset you, because I will find them for you, Y/N’ he started, rearing himself up as he spoke. You jumped in.

‘No, no. Not upset. I swear. Just… pissed off. Massively, massively pissed off. Short fuse today, y’see.’

‘Oh. Well, I know all about that. I’m quick to anger at any given moment but then again, ‘s in my nature. What exactly are you doing down here?’

You looked to your side at the gigantic skip full of building waste, then down to your feet where someone’s puke sat. You looked back up to the demon.

‘It was a quick escape, one that was made before I slapped someone in the face.’

Crowley looked slightly taken aback, not expecting any expression of violence from you considering your usually placid nature.

‘Ooookay. Well, I won’t ask for details but, here.’ He leaned over slightly and brushed away some of the tears which were still running down your face. You could swear that you both stopped breathing for a moment as he touched you but then again, you weren’t in a fit state for rational thinking.

‘Thank you,’ you breathed out. ‘I’m all good, I promise. Just need to breathe.’ You gave a reassuring smile to the demon and noticed him looking down to your hand, holding a flimsy plastic bag containing the mouse traps.

‘What you got there? Looks interesting.’ He said, tilting his head to try and get a closer look. You brought the bag up to your chest.

‘Oh, mouse traps. There’s a little shit thinking that he owns my flat who’s probably currently in my bread bin. Thought I’d stop the problem while I could, considering there’s that saying about seeing mice. Y’know, for every mouse you see, there’s always another one somewhere. Can’t wait to clean that up!’ Your words had somewhat of a bite, being spat like venom.

‘Woah. You really are pissed, aren’t you?’ Crowley responded, half smirking. For some reason, this set you off again.

‘Yes. Yes, actually I am. Because y’know what? This day has been fucking horrific! I genuinely don’t think that I’ve had two consecutive minutes of peace since the second I woke up. I can’t relax because of the mouse, then there was the bus, and the walking, and the pain in my feet, and the twat who decided to check his phone in the middle of Oxford Street. Sorry, who the hell does that? I just feel like I’ve been left out of any plans that the universe had to let people go about their day without a care in the world. So yes, I’m fuming.’ You gave a huff before realising that you were now crying again. Crowley stood slightly dumbstruck, shifting his weight between his feet. You glanced off to the side, watching the shoppers propel themselves down Oxford Street.

The demon then spoke, his voice low and sincere.

‘Can I give you a lift?’

—

After what felt like a windswept journey in the Bentley, Crowley screeched to a halt outside your flat. Jolting forwards slightly, the plastic bag containing the mouse traps crinkled between your legs.

You’d calmed down quite significantly, but now felt a combination of complete embarrassment that you’d had such an outburst in front of the being that you completely adored, and absolute excitement that he’d even offered you a lift. This wasn’t helped when you heard him say,

‘Let me walk you upstairs. Check that you’re okay.’

You felt fizzy, and as the two of you trudged up to your flat, you felt as though you could lift off any second. As you unlocked your front door, Crowley leaned on the doorframe, peering in to the hallway as you threw your bag on the floor. You suddenly regretted this as when the bag hit the floor, there was a scuttle from under your bedroom door, and the little mouse took one giant sprint off towards the kitchen. You screamed in shock as the little bastard took itself away, and Crowley grabbed onto your arm. This made you jump for a second time.

‘Woah woah there, calm down. It’s just a little mouse, we’ll sort this,’ Crowley sweetly spoke, lulling your heart back to a slightly normal rate. You looked down to his arm resting on yours and couldn’t help but smile slightly.

Crowley had a look on his face which would have read from ten miles away as one with a scheme brewing.

‘Look Y/N, I’m going to do something here which I don’t do very often, and all I’m asking is that you don’t freak out,’ the demon announced.

You couldn’t help but make a sarcastic joke.

‘What’s that then, the housework?’ Smirking, you looked up at Crowley who glared at you through his sunglasses.

‘Fine, you don’t need my help!’ He huffed, obviously taking the piss but you couldn’t help but tease him back into good spirits.

‘No no, sorry Crowley. What have you got for me?’

‘Snake.’

You stood there for a second, trying to make any sense of what he just said and burning up slightly as you wondered if this was perhaps his way of flirting.

‘A… a snake? You have a snake?’

‘Yes. Well, no. Well… yes. Look it’s complicated, can I just show you?’

Uh oh. Maybe this was him flirting.

You thought for a second before hearing an almighty crash from the kitchen, and from down the hallway you saw an entire loaf of bread fall to the ground, followed by a small army of mice. Again, you let out a scream as Crowley slammed the door shut behind the both of you.

‘How fucking many are there now?!’ You exclaimed, turning to face Crowley who was now quickly shifting between his feet. He suddenly grabbed your shoulders.

‘Look Y/N, tell me quick, do you have a phobia?’

‘Of mice? I think that’s pretty evident Crow-‘

‘No, of snakes. Are you scared of snakes?’

‘What is it with you and these snakes?’ You laughed. The demon then stood dead still and stared right at you.

‘Stay still. Don’t freak out please. I promise this will help.’

Before you knew it, Crowley’s hands had disappeared off your shoulders and he seemed to disappear entirely from before you. Confused, you looked down at the floor.

What you saw took your breath away for what felt like forever.

Rows and rows of black scales suddenly lined your hallway, flowing from side to side as the form made its way towards the kitchen. This didn’t take long, considering the snake’s body seemed to run on forever, there must have been at least 10 metres of the creature occupying your apartment.

You’d never really considered Crowley’s powers before. While you were aware that he was a demon, this thought didn’t control your every interaction with him. He was just Crowley- your friend Crowley- your possibly more than a friend Crowley- your Crowley. Shapeshifting had never been part of the picture.

But it was so, so beautiful.

Moving.

And snakes were never your favourite but this was just something else.

Squeals of mouse terror came from the kitchen as a massive shadow rose up throughout the whole apartment. Crowley was sitting up on his body, his head pointed towards any mouse that he could detect and a razor sharp stare in his luminescent eyes.

Your favourite part of this whole scenario was laying on the floor in front of you- Crowley’s sunglasses, sans Crowley for the first time ever. You smiled as you bent down to pick them up, your feet planted to the spot due to the inherently overwhelming nature of what was happening. You ran your fingers over the frames feeling the heat that was stored in them.

There was something so human about the lingering warmth to the metal, but that thing that made it so distinctively Crowley was the fact that the heat never seemed to fade.

The floor seemed to move as the scales once again shifted, with Crowley turning round to come back towards you. Cold fear seized your entire body, despite the oddly comforting and protective energy of this gigantic creature. His yellow eyes were right in front of your face before you’d even managed to properly react to him moving towards you.

You blinked and the Crowley that you knew and … ahem… was standing in front you, a live mouse swinging from his hand by the tail.

‘Consider those rodents dispatched.’

The mouse in his hand was thrashing wildly from side to side and while you hated the little shits, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for it. You went to protest but no words came out of your mouth.

You’d just witnessed something- something that couldn’t exactly be described as a miracle but to you- maybe?

Crowley noticed the panic in your eyes directed towards the mouse and realised what he needed to do. The mouse disappeared in another of your blinks.

There were so many pressing questions on your mind, but you only managed to actually articulate one of them.

‘Please tell me you didn’t eat those mice, Crowley?’ Your tone was somewhere between intrigue and massive concern.

The demon scoffed, ‘I prefer oysters normally, Y/N. No, I didn’t eat them. I can assure you though, they won’t be back any time soon.’

Palpable silence hung between the two of you. You naturally seemed to hold out Crowley’s sunglasses to him, staring directly into the eyes which served as a reminder of his other form as you did so.

Crowley went to slowly take the glasses off you, but in a snap decision, you snatched them back. Crowley wasn’t exactly thrilled by this.

‘Hey, don’t play games with those. They’re my-‘

He didn’t stand a chance of finishing his sentence before you jumped in, with your subconscious mind taking a grasp on your mouth. Maybe this was a trick of Crowley’s, but at least some of it came from your heart.

‘Do it again. Turn back.’

The two of you stared at each other as a smirk took over the demon’s face.

‘Really? It seemed to terrify you, dearest.’

The cockiness in his voice only persuaded you to carry on pushing.

‘Not at all! No no, it was just... well it was a shock at first. Obviously. Like who the hell else can do that? But no, not terror. It’s intrigue. I swear.’

You made sure to assert yourself in your voice as your brain convinced you that you would never rest again unless Crowley turned back into a snake. It was almost like the sheer shock had morphed into utter obsession in a matter of seconds.

And maybe you just adored every part of Crowley and him being vulnerable in showing a new side to you? Well...

Again, you blinked and he was gone for a moment, before the black reptile rose up to meet your gaze. He hadn’t continued to question you.

The presence was unexplainable, physically so big in the space but even just the idea of him just seemed to fill up every corner of the place. Moving the sunglasses into your right hand, you tentatively raised up your left.

‘Can... may I? Can I touch?’ You softly asked, mimicking a petting action in the air. Somehow, Crowley let you know that it was okay, pulling your hand towards him with some kind of magnetising energy.

Your fingers lightly brushed the scales on his head and you took a breath so deep you almost triggered hiccups. The texture was confusing, it almost seemed like it was shifting forms by the second- smooth then rough, hard then feather soft, but still always cool as marble. You fully rested your hand down as you glanced along the entire body, once again filling up the entire hallway.

‘Crowley, this is beautiful. I mean that.’ You whispered, transfixed on what you were seeing.

Then, the unimaginable happened. Your hand which had ended up resting on the snake’s head suddenly felt warm.

Was... was he blushing? You decided to test the water slightly more.

‘I didn’t even imagine that anything could be so magnificent but, well. Here you are. So gorgeous.’

Sure enough, another flush felt through your hand.

‘Crowley, are you blushing?’ You giggled. The heat on his face then took another rise, this time enough to hurt you slightly. You drew your hand away instinctually, but with a smile still on your face.

This was now a day worth noting. The day that started with a mouse in a bread bin and some unfortunately placed anger, and ended as the day that you made a snake blush.

And of course, he made you blush too.

A new side of Crowley. One that you couldn’t help but adore.

#good omens one shot #good omens #good omens x reader #crowley x reader #snake crowley #good omens fanfic #reader insert

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

Text

...surprise part 3

{part1} {part 2}

I got there in the end!!!! sorry I felt like this dragged quite a lot but just quite happy to get it done ahah. Any feedback / advice would be greatly appreciated :)

TW: this is pretty heavy angst, miscarriages / thoughts of self harm / death pls don't read if this could strike a cord x

Summary: Y/n has absolutely not a clue how to tell Tom and that only strains the both incredibly.

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The drive home was deathly silent. Tom’s Audi seamlessly drove down the near-empty roads on a sleepy Sunday evening. The whole time Y/n sat with one leg curled up by her chest as she absently stared out of the passenger window. Honestly, though, she was not taking anything of the view in, all processing power in her brain was in overdrive. Souly focused on how the fuck she was going to tell Tom what she had done. She knew Tom kept glancing over at her, with the panicked hint to his eyes- no matter how comforting he was trying to appear. His grip on the steering wheel was every tightening, he felt as though right now that was the only control he had. Still with no idea what was going on - but this time his mum knew too. And his mum when she came to get him from the living was not calm either.

Something he always admired about his mum was how cool she was in a crisis. Even if Paddy likened her to the ’rage monster’ at times when she was pissed because he’d left the freezer door open, or something equally as stupid, when it came down to it, when there was a really serious issue… she was composed. Calm and collected. So when she came in and called Tom, taking him away from his brothers, he could tell something was wrong by the look in her eye. She was upset, that was clear to him, but there was something more. It wasn’t straight up panic (not like if Y/n had passed out or something) but it was… it was a quiet urgency.

It meant it was bad.

Without the need to ever consider it, Tom knew this wasn’t anything to do with Y/n being unfaithful. It hadn’t even crossed his mind. And that meant, something must've happened personally to Y/n - which maybe scared him even more. If it was a betrayal of him, that would principally hurt Tom himself - which would kill him, but he would deal with it. It was the fear of the unknown and the complete powerlessness in this situation that had Tom wishing the drive away so he’d finally understand.

The drive felt painstakingly long for Tom… yet far too short for Y/n to come up with a plan.

When the pair finally pulled into the driveway, they both didn’t even exchange glances before heading out the car and slamming the doors shut. The crunch of their shoes on the gravel path to the front door was deafeningly loud as Tom fished the keys out of his pocket - this time with a sense of dread that contrasted so strongly the excitement he’d felt less than 24 hours ago doing the exact same thing.

Tom held the door open for her, as she fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve; eyes still glued to the floor. He flicked on the light to illuminate the hall as she slipped off her shoes. He mirrored her action and then for the first time since his parents' house looked her in the eye. Just that action had him near spilling his guts about how worried he was about her, before Y/n beat him to it.

“I’m…I’m gonna take a shower.”

And it had him floored. How could she just ignore the bloody massive and luminous elephant in the room? He couldn’t even respond, his brain was so confused as to what the fuck was going on. So she just nodded smally and headed straight upstairs. Leaving him in a stupor by the doorway.

Meanwhile, Y/n was just about holding it together until she got behind the locked door of their ensuite. Then it broke. She broke.

She pulled the clothes that drowned her off frantically, scratching and grabbing until the garments ripped off her body and were thrown across the room in haste. In the mirror, the reflection of the person that stood there somewhat had her transfixed. Tilting her head to the side, Y/n took careful steps up toward it - her eyes transfixed on her exposed abdomen. She was hollow. So very empty and it had her hypnotised. How barely weeks ago she was growing a real human inside there - creating something that should’ve gone onto laugh and smile and grow and learn. And love.

Now she was empty.

The poor thing though had been so deprived by their own mother; so unwanted and hated. They had been starved of all love by the person who was supposed to love them the most. The person who was supposed to be half their world for the first few years at least.

It was her fault.

Y/n hated herself, heck she wanted to punish herself for what she’d done. And yet, there was something so pure about her stomach, about where that angel had been. She wanted to punch herself, to kick and hurt, to make her feel pain. Except for this little life force, or the remnants of them - had her respecting it. Instead, she gently rubbed her stomach, which was flat rather than full like it should’ve been, and yet it felt like a relief. At a snail's pace, she trailed the tips of her finger across her belly just drawing (what she thought were) random patterns - however to anyone else they would have noticed the silhouette of a small human.

She took her time int the shower, having the water close to blisteringly hot but not quite there - using it as an attempt to purge her body of the thoughts, of the guilt. Eventually, though she couldn’t drag out the bathroom routine any longer, she had to go and face him. In reality, Y/n was well aware of how unfair this was on Tom - he had been terrified on the way back here, she knew that. But the thought of admitting to him this truly abhorrent thing she’d done, selfishly she didn’t want to tell him tonight. Just one more night sharing a bed with him, one morning of seeing his puffy eyes and bed hair, one last time hearing his gruff morning voice. Before he found out the real her and before he left.

Thankfully, when she finally drew the courage to unlock the door and leave her sanctuary, their bedroom was empty and she took that opportunity. As fast as she possibly could, Y/n changed into an old nightshirt before huddling under the covers. Tom had been so careful with her feelings today, he might just leave her be. Delay the conversation till tomorrow. It was the dream.

And dreams don’t come true.

Tom walked in, she could hear the soft pad of his feet on the cream carpet as she tried to act fast asleep - regulating her breathing and relaxing every muscle she could. When in fact that the whole process was the opposite of relaxing, she was on such high alert, waiting for a sign of him leaving her alone for the evening. Quite expectedly though, it didn’t quite go down that way. She heard him sigh, felt him sit on his side of the bed as her body rippled with the dip on the bed, felt his eyes piercing her.

“Y/n…” the tone of his voice had her wincing internally, he was hurting. “Y/n please… just talk to me?” She was too scared to move. “ I know your awake Y/n we both know who’s the actor here” Y/n knew Tom was trying to lighten the mood, trying to make her feel a bit more comfortable but then he switched back to an underlying hint of desperation. “Please talk to me.” She didn’t have a choice, he wasn't going to let up - Y/n could tell. So she rolled over and opened her eyes facing him.

“I’m tired, Tom. Can we do this tomorrow?” His face completely morphed and she knew she fucked up. He wasn’t upset or worried or scared any more.

“I’m sorry but that is not fair.”

“Please just-“

“NO. ah” He sighed, as if disciplining himself for the instinctive angry tone. “Look- I-I’ve been going at your pace. I’ve been treading on eggshells all day. I didn’t want to push you but I’m bloody terrified! I mean you told my mum! And she’s worried so that means I’m even more stressed and-…. Just please Y/n. You know I’d never judge you I’m just worried because I care.”

And just like that, she didn’t have a choice. She was really hurting the man she loved.

As a result, Y/n pushed herself up into a sitting position, still hugging the duvet around her in a protective blanket as she looked into his glassy eyes. It tore her heart out.

“I’m really sorry” she pursed her lips blowing out an exhale, trying to collect all her thoughts, feelings and emotions together. “I’ve been trying to all day but-.. it’s just I’m finding this really hard to express in words.”

“I don’t mind if it takes all night, just I-I want to understand.” He was just too kind and she didn’t deserve it. So picking at the duvet while pulling her legs closer in protection she nodded.

“Okay, so-so I just take you through it chronologically? And-and then I can go to Y/f/n’s place so.”

“Why would you got to hers?” He asked, his eyebrows drawn tightly together in confusion. He knew you hadn’t been unfaithful - his mum most definitely wouldn’t have reacted in the way she did had Y/n betrayed Tom.

“Just… just listen first.” She didn’t want to answer that question, to speak it into existence. Him kicking her out, in a rage of fury and anger at how evil she could be. She thought he’d just reply and accept it, not feel the need to calm her.

“I could never ever hate you Y/n please, it’s a bit insulting to me that you think I would.”

His words had her a little shocked - she had definitely not expected that reaction. His offence.

“Umm okay just… just don’t promise till you hear.” He gave her a stern look, not enough to make her back down or change her mind from what she thought was inevitable. “So. So it was when you were away. You’d just gone to Atlanta I think and-and I woke up one morning and was sick and it was weird I don’t know… um so I took the day off but I was okay until the next morning and-and I was sick again. It was weird so I took the next day off because you know Elliot I work with? He’s-he's got some broken immune system or something so we really can’t go in if we are ill. But I was fine until the next morning again and-and then it kind of hit me. I hadn’t had a period in ages and-and yeah.”

“Your pregnant?” Tom asked, trying to wrap his head around the current situation and what she was saying.

“Was…” Her voice wavered and she paused a second “ I-I was. I was shocked you know? We…we weren’t ready.” Y/n shifted uncomfortably, pushing herself closer to the headboard. “You said you didn’t want kids now and I mean … we- we are barely adults ourself right? It-it was so stupid but I couldn’t tell you could I?… Phone you up and say by the way I’m pregnant with a kid you don’t want!...” She dared to look at him, only for a second, seeing the way he just stared at her as though transfixed. She couldn’t keep looking at him.

“So I was waiting till you would get back … er next week, well when you were supposed to be back anyway.” She scoffed lightly at that, how the whole entire situation had been completely flipped on its head. “I would have had the scan then. And-and I went and it so stupid because they were a blob but-shit. They were so beautiful.” She hadn’t even noticed, suddenly absorbed in what she was saying but Tom leant over to grab one of her hands because it was trembling so vigorously. It wasn’t that he wanted to comfort her, he needed to. Because really? When it mattered, he hadn’t and that was already eating away at him.

“And I stupidly…. So fucking stupidly… I thought what if? I got excited and in my head… I don’t fucking know I just thought that I-it, it might work. I really - really thought it could work.” She couldn’t feel it but Tom wormed his arm around her shoulder, squeezing her into his side. “But by that point, I’d already filled them with so much hate. I wanted them out for so long and…and then I just- well I got what I thought I wanted.”

For the first time since she started her speech, Y/n wasn’t absorbed in retelling the story. Noticing her position with Toms arms protectively wrapped around her, she dared to look up into his eyes. And they weren’t right. It was wrong. Because here he was still looking at her with these incredibly soft warm brown eyes, his thumb rubbing up and down on the back of her shoulder blade.

“Love, I’m so so sorry.”

She was bemused. What the hell was he doing? Was this just a double bluff, acting all soft before he was about to rip her heart out - even if it was what she deserved, that was exceptionally cruel?

“No Tom your not listening. I-I couldn’t keep your baby alive! I-I wished them away… I wanted them gone!” Now she was plainly hysterical, shouting and yelling at Tom as her hands shook.

It broke Tom’s heart. He knew this was his fault - at least a little. Clearly, she should never have been in a position to have to deal with this herself, that was obvious. And it made him guilty… but what hit harder? She had very clearly implied she was worried about his reaction, he should never have let her worry. Because Tom knew he loved Y/n unconditionally, at this point that should be a given - for all he cared there was nothing, within the limits of reason, she could do that would make him seriously reconsider his opinion of her. Even then, if his opinion were ever forced to change so dramatically... he still knew he wouldn’t be able to stop loving her. Loving isn't an option, it is not a choice. You helplessly surrender yourself to it. And yet she was apparently less sure of this fact.

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with this by yourself.” And he meant it. He truly meant it. However, Y/n was not having it at all - in her state, in her frame of mind, this was him just torturing her; acting it out only to break her heart. His words and her position wrapped protectively in his arms dawned on her. It had her leaping up from the bed, tears streaming down her face as she gestured wildly.

“Tom that’s not fair! Don’t you get it? I KILLED YOUR BABY! They were alive and then I wasn’t enough for them! IT’S MY FAULT!” To put it simply, she looked insane. Screaming, with tears streaming down her face, arms flailing about as she yelled at Tom, who was still sitting on the bed.

He’d never seen her like this- with so much anger. What was even more disturbing was the fact that it was targeted so inwardly at herself.

“This isn’t your-“

“BE ANGRY TOM. For fuck sake… I-“ She choked out a sob “I murdered your kid! RAGE AT ME SHOUT AT ME it’s-it’s what I deserve.” It was insane but the look in her eye was one that seemed to Tom as though she needed him to hate her. As if in some fucked up narrative that was how the story should end.

He was not having one bit of it, tearing his eyes away from her maniacally shaking frail frame and instead to the corner of the ceiling. There was no precedent, no guidebook on how to deal with this, no past experiences to rely on. Unlike if Y/n had had a shit day, Tom knew then to subtly keep her within reach, to silently be there so she could literally and figuratively lean on him when she was ready; unlike when she was angry at ignorant politicians, he knew not to argue but prompt her to explain more, give a more reasoned argument so anger became thought through intellect; unlike when her grandma had died, when she just needed his contact, she needed his thumb rubbing against her hip, needed to sleep listening to the rhythmical thumping of his heart. None of these were applicable - his touch seemed to make her worse; his words seemed to anger her more; his mere presence didn’t seem to be doing an awful lot of good.

And yet, he couldn’t leave her even if it seemed to be the most logical option. Because she was wild, not herself and not logical and he, for the first time, was terrified of the danger she could be to herself.

Y/n stared at him, wide-eyed, waiting for him to react. She saw his Adam's apple bob up and down - readying his voice to scream at her. She saw his brown eyes collect a sheen of tears of rage - ready to bore holes into her skull as he degraded her to what she was worth. Which was very little. Then, as if in slow motion, his sharp jawline tilted back level and his eyes met her. He was frozen as if a statue, ready to rage at her.

“I love you both. So much and equally.”

Tom was pretty sure he could imagine Y/n’s runaway train in her head slam on the breaks. Her eyebrow twitched a little, as she stood completely still trying to analyse his words. Because to her, it didn’t make sense. So he took this moment of (at least surface level) calm to smoothly and slowly stand up, actions much like mirroring how someone approaches a spooked cat on the streets. Movements slow and preplanned, trying not to set off the fight or flight response on the women in front of him.

“That little baby you made… I didn’t know he ever existed till minutes ago but…but I know for a fact I love them.” He was trying to both figure out and decode his own emotions while explaining them in a way Y/n would accept and understand.

“I love them because… they are made by the love of my life. And that’s incredible and indescribable and just… just part of you, an extension of everything you and me together are… They would never have been perfect right?” Tom softly asked, though realistically knowing he wouldn’t get a response from a still motionless Y/n - besides a single tear, which appeared to have a mind of its own, escaping over her bottom lash lid. Tom watched it roll down her cheek as he composed his next words. “No they wouldn’t, no ones perfect… neither me nor you. But they would’ve been safe and have been loved. They were loved, you-you loved them right, even if you didn’t think you did or when you were terrified?” This time Y/n nodded minutely and Tom mirrored this, taking a small step a little closer to her. “And I did love them while they were in your stomach because they were part of you and I always always love you…. So they were so full of love okay? There's no rhyme or reason to why what happened happened but it’s… it’s definitely not because they were starved of love okay?” Y/n still didn’t have appeared to have released a single breath since Tom stood up, so he made a calculated and risked assessed movement to reach his hand out to touch her upper arm. In reaction, she sucked in a sharp shaky breath and then expelled it just as quickly - just like Tom knew she would. He physically felt a pull in his chest seeing the torment in her glassy eyes, now barely a rulers length from her.

“This, it’s an awful… awful situation. It’s sad and heartbreaking but I really need you to know that it changes nothing about how I feel about you. I need you to really understand how much I love-and always will-love you, and how I love them too.” Another tear escaped the same eye and Tom reached up with his other hand so his thumb could brush it away before the glassy orb met her pronounced jawline. To be honest he was quite grateful for the moment as he felt his voice getting a bit sticky in the back of his throat. She still wasn’t ready to speak yet and he was okay with that.

“We’ll never forget them and we will always love them, but I want to do that with you, as we get older together. They tie us closer and I refuse to disrespect them and force ourselves apart….a-assuming you don’t want to either?” Still cupping her cheek with his left hand Tom felt as well as saw her nod, this time more emphatically, her eyes darting between focusing on his left and then right eye - as though she was just checking they were saying the same things as his mouth.

“I’m sorry I-“ Finally feeling the connection between her brain and voice box, Y/n stated to jiltedly speak but was interrupted as Tom tentatively feathered his lips on hers. “You can be sorry for scaring the crap out of me today, you can be sorry for shouting and you can be sorry for not telling me at all… I don’t think you should, but if you’re staying sorry that’s all you can be sorry for.” He was barely speaking, more like just moving his lips against hers, yet they knew and understood each other completely Y/n got everything. So she sighed and repeated.

“I am sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for you not having the faith to know I’d be happy, that was my fault. I’m sorry for not being here and not noticing when you were struggling on the phone. I’m sorry I crept up on you last night. But I don’t think there’s anything else for either of us to apologise for.”

“Okay” Y/n then pressed her lips firmly and almost desperately against his, feeling his warmth wrap around her, as he literally wrapped his arm around her waist, from where it had been on her upper arm. And really she was very incredibly desperate since it was very very incredibly clear now with him pressed against her that he might’ve been all she needed this whole time. Tom went with it for a couple of moments, but then broke them both apart - it sounds odd but he sort of felt like he was taking advantage of her.

“Darling you’re grieving. We can tackle this together …. But your grieving so we need to look after you first. And, and we’ll remember them and face this. But we gotta look out for each other too and…”

“I’m ill aren’t I?” He was oh-so relieved that she could see it too.

“I’m not a doctor but I think so… think we need to get you eating properly.”Y/n nodded and Tom kissed her forehead, pulling her completely against his chest - only exacerbating and exaggerating his awareness of how boney she felt. It hadn’t gone unnoticed how she’d spent the whole of Sam’s dinner pushing the meat round on her fork - rearranging it numerous times- whilst picking at a few carrots. “We can do whatever you feel will help you this evening but you need to tell me what you want to eat.”

You agreed but you still felt incredibly nauseous, so managed to put off the whole snacking thing in lieu of cuddling up on the sofa with Tom. You were still incredibly confused, feeling slightly detached from reality if you were completely honest. And you knew Tom was a good actor, his career kind of speaks for himself yet, all the same, the sheer truth in his eyes, voice, heart. It had you feeling safe. He no longer felt a flight risk and although you still couldn’t understand why he was forgiving you so easily, you believed he was. In the softest voice, he kept just saying ‘your grieving’ when you tried to challenge his logic- admittedly proving difficult in your scattered and hazy mind.

So you found yourself lying almost completely on top of his right side, your head tucked underneath his chin, a fluffy blanket weighing down on your back to keep you nice and toasty. Silently Tom had trailed his fingertips tentatively, under the hem of your t-shirt, round over the top of your hip to his stomach. Initially, it had felt like the worst and most alien feeling in the world- but he told you to relax and you listened; he told you to take deep breaths and you listened; he told you he loved you and you listened.

It must’ve been incredibly boring for him, I mean the TV wasn’t on neither was the radio and you knew his phone was in a pocket you were currently lying on. He didn’t complain though, he just let you lie there. Just sort of being with him.

At some point Tom realised she’d drifted off, after a long time fighting exhaustion, as though she were worried about what Tom would do once she finally gave in to sleep. It wasn’t surprising though, considering her energy intake from food for today was limited to a couple of roasted carrot slices, Tom knew her falling asleep on his chest was inevitable. The time it took had also given him enough time to fully digest and process the whole day as well as for deciding what he needed to do. So once she appeared fully out of Tom dared to worm his hand between their bodies and, with a few muted grunts of effort, phish his phone out his back pocket.

‘Hi, I know this asking a lot but would you mind getting Sam to make that pasta bake Y/n likes and dropping it round? Just she’s asleep but I don’t want to leave her alone but could do with getting something in her?’

‘Sams already on it and it doesn’t take long. I’ll be at yours in about an hour, shall I just let myself in?’

Tom was so grateful for his family, and for how they’d taken Y/n in to. Although she’d never admit it, her tougher than average upbringing always had her feeling a bit isolated- she never had ‘her’ people. The people who completely accepted her for who she was and never judged her. But as soon as he’d introduced her to them, it was as if she'd always been there. He endlessly appreciated the talks Nikki and you had, the way his Dad would come over when she was home alone to help with the simple stuff like knowing what lightbulb to buy for the lamp that had blinked out.

She had a place in his family.

Quite impressively, Sam had managed to bake the dish and then Nikki had managed to drive round before barely three-quarters of an hour had passed. Y/n was still completely out, so when he heard his mum unlock the door with her spare key, he felt able to wiggle out from under her without disturbing at all. He met Nikki in the kitchen, leaning against the door frame as he watched his mother fly about the kitchen - preheating the oven on a low temp to keep it warm while pulling plates and cutlery out the drawers so it was easier for Y/n and Tom when you woke up.

“Thanks for all this” Tom announced his presence with a soft sigh as he padded further into the kitchen. Nikki instinctively threw her arms round her eldest’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly.

“You guys okay?” Tom replied with a rather uncertain hum, before recounting the evening to his mum in a low voice - as though Y/n could be disturbed from the other side of the house. Nikki was in two frame of minds at this point, clearly heartbroken for the pair; but also incredibly proud of her son because it appeared he’d reacted and said exactly the right things.

“And you?… it must’ve been a shock?” To be quite honest, Tom hadn't thought about his own emotions yet, he’d put himself on the back foot for the time being.

“I mean it’s just a bit surreal… I don’t know I didn’t really have anything to do with it but - I just know that it's made me so certain that one day we will... you know?” Nikki hugged her son again with a little nod.

“Well I won’t outstay my welcome but I do want you to give this to Y/n too.”’ With those words, she fished a square box out of her handbag - it was about the size of two matchboxes and Tom raised his brows in curiosity. “She’ll understand when she sees it.”

And with a brisk parting gesture, Nikki left, Tom tucking the box into his side pocket before getting the pasta ready.

////////

Waking you with a gentle rub on your upper arm, you mewled a groan and pushed your head hard into the sofa below you in an attempt to alleviate the tension that instantly rippled through your skull. With hazy eyes, you blinked heavily, slowly focusing on the pale yet soft skin of the boy crouched opposite you.

“Hey darling, nice nap?” Nodding gradually, you still tried to completely recollect and piece together everything that had happened today “… you need some grub before we head upstairs yeh?” Again you nodded in compliance because at this point, even having been asleep for the last however long, you really didn’t have the energy for any conflict or disagreement. With a little prompt and poke from Tom, you reluctantly sat up, grasping the plate he offered to you while still rubbing one of your eyes. Busying himself with running back to the kitchen and grabbing his own plate and drink, you had time to look at the food and notice what was served to you. Tom plopped himself next to you and turned his head with a small smile, meeting a bemused and slightly suspicious look from you.

“You didn’t cook this…?” Really it wasn’t a question. You knew for a fact Tom was not and would never be a good chef. No judgement though, since neither were you, meaning the pair of you heavily relied on the ingenious invention of uber eats most evenings. Tom chuckled at your perceptiveness and admitted defeat without even trying to feign it.

“Nah mum dropped it round. Though I think Sam cooked it so a joint effort.”

“-didnt have to-“ You hated feeling like a burden. You hated people worrying because you just felt bad. Not worth the attention and effort. And Tom hated you feeling like that - naturally then, he had the need to shut you down instantly.

“No, you’re right. But they did.”

The air was filled with the quiet clinks of ceramic against the silver or the cutlery as you forced mouthful after mouthful down your throat. He was trying to be subtle, and yet you could feel Tom’s concerned glance checking you were eating. Truthully, you really didn’t feel like eating at all (even if it was Sam’s gorgeous tomato and sausage pasta bake - an odd combination but it worked). However, what more crucial in that moment was not disappointing your incredibly sweet boyfriend.

After having consumed as much as you physically could - which Tom deemed suitable with a small nod- he took your plates away and came back to sit beside you. More and more silence.

“Are-are we okay?” Whispering quietly you felt Tom’s body seize up into a rigid state, his face whipping round to look at you. He chose to reply with actions first reaching up so that his hands cupped your cheeks, he turned your head and then slowly leaned into to press his lips softly against yours. Once retracted, he pressed his forehead onto yours.

“Of course. I bloody love you and we’re going to get through this together.” His eyes were almost intimidating, with the seriousness he placed in his gaze - just to make sure you knew he meant it.

What you had done to deserve this boy you’d never know. But you were so incredibly grateful for him.

It gave you the confidence to take the first move this time, pressing your lips against his, holding for a moment before arching away - a small yet real smile on your face.

“Oh… nearly forgot” He muttered, leaning forward and grabbing a black leather box that you’d failed to notice had been placed on the coffee table. For the second time this evening, you were caught off guard and bemused as to how he’d sourced this item within the time frame. “It’s from mum… she wouldn’t tell me what it is but said you’d understand.”

His words had you biting your lip, in a weird way eager to see, purely because you knew Nikki understood you. And understood what you were going through. With one last look to Tom, you reached out and grabbed the box, thumb running over the sleek leather exterior. Once your thumb reached the bottom you flicked the lid up, unveiling a simple silver chained bracelet. It had five dainty silver charms hanging off it, they looked a bit like leaves but were kind of too small to tell. Moreover, it looked a little worn and preloved but it didn’t stop your eyes from watering when you saw at the bottom another charm, not yet attached that looked newer and pristine.

5 charms already attached and 1 new one.

“Oh” Tom muttered, also clearly very much intrigued, hovering off you left shoulder to see properly. ”That’s mums bracelet. She never really takes it off… that’s nice I guess?” He was obviously confused and it had you chuckling wetly, at how oblivious he could be. You did love your dear idiot.

5 charms for her 5 pregnancies… and now one for yours. One to wear forever, to love, to keep close to your heart.

They were tears of happiness, you were certain of, however, Tom was not at all sure why your flood gates opened again and was worried.

“You-you don’t have to take- I mean if you don’t like it don’t worry-“

“I love it” You breathed, looking up at him with glassy eyes before hastily picking up the extra charm and with shaky fingers clasping it onto the chain next to it. Tom perked up, if still bemused, wrapping his arm around your shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t know how you convinced her to take it off, I’ve been trying to buy her a new bracelet for years but she’s always stuck with this old thing.”

“Because it’s beautiful!” You yelped in argument, making him laugh at how suddenly you’d switched into a happy and overexcited mood. Though don’t get me wrong, he was loving it.

“You Holland women I will never understand.” He whispered into your ear whilst you looked back at the chain, fixing it round your wrist. His comment made you freeze up, as you felt his grip tightening on your waist as he realised exactly what he might have just let slip out. “No I er- I don’t mean… but-but one day maybe if-if you wanted.”

“I love you” You sighed, kissing him once again to save him the embarrassment of watching his cheeks flush and ears pink up.

“I’m serious though… one day because… because you’re my family and when it happens our family will grow too.”

He was right. And you would, one day,

But you would never forget the two little lives remembered on this bracelet.

tagging people that might be interested (sorry if u don't care ahah): @wayfaring----stranger @vanillanestor @333dolans @thevelvetseries @whitewolf51

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #dad!tom #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland x y/n

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years ago

Text

with this unruly heart of mine

in which we all wish our parents reacted the same way as Alcina does when one of her daughters comes out to her

title is from Unruly Hearts from The Prom because it fit

-----------------------------

MERCUTIO

If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. Give me a case to put my visage in. A visor for a visor. What care I What curious eye doth cote deformities? Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.

Alcina read that line over and over again, but she still had no idea what the hell any of it really meant. She sighed and leaned back into the cushions of her seat. If she kept getting caught up on the literary meaning of every other paragraph then she would never finish this damned book.

She picked up the teacup sitting on the stand beside her chair and took a long sip. The tea was of sweet cinnamon on her tongue. It left a much better taste in her mouth than the rather gross relationship between Romeo and Juliet in this book. If the short amount of time the two knew each other wasn’t bad enough, the age gap made her teeth bare and nose wrinkle in disgust. What the hell was this William Shakespeare guy thinking when he wrote this?

The soft sound of bare feet padding against hardwood brought her back to the surface of complete awareness, her focus shifting away from the book and to the late-night arrival watching nearby.

A certain fly child stood, arm on the doorway. Her hair was shaggy from seemingly just waking up--or maybe she hadn’t slept at all in the first place. Unruly blonde locks were sticking up in various directions around her head, framing her face like an adolescent lion’s mane. The nightgown she wore was a size too big and drowning her thin frame.

The light from the fireplace made her golden-amber eyes look hollow.

“Mother?”

“Yes, dear?”

“May I sit with you?”

“Of course.”

Slower than she’d ever seen her move before, Bela inched her way onto the cushioned chair beside Alcina’s. She pulled her knees up her chest, bare toes poking over the edge of the seat, and Alcina regarded them with a scrunch of her nose.

“What have I told you about going around the castle barefoot?” Alcina chided gently.

Bela didn’t look away from the flickering fire in the fireplace. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

Something was bothering her.

Bela was a rather fickle little thing. Some days, she wanted to tell Alcina everything, every little fact of the new knowledge she had obtained from her books, all the small details of her latest stories or ideas. Other days, she put up walls and gave vague answers to questions prodded into her sensitive skin, curling into herself like a frightened snail afraid of being interrogated. This seemed to be something of the latter, and Alcina made a mental note to tread lightly to avoid upsetting her daughter.

“I don’t understand this at all,” Alcina said, waggling the book in her hands, trying to make small talk with her distressed child. She didn’t want to pry and further put Bela on edge more than she clearly was, but she couldn’t not do something about her bitter mood. What kind of mother would she be if she didn’t at least attempt to help with her kids’ problems?

“I can hardly make heads or tails of anything they’re saying,” she continued, hoping she wasn’t laying it on too thick.

Bela raised her head from her knees slightly. “What book is it?”

“Romeo and Juliet.”

There was a morbid snort. “How coincidental…”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Bela shook her head. “Lemme see. What part are you at?”

Alina pointed out the current line she had reread at least five times over without being able to discern the Shakespearean into modern-day language. Bela, however, looked it over once, scanned the other pieces of dialogue for context, nodded, then explained, “In this scene, Romeo, Mercutio, and Benvolio are sneaking into a party thrown by the Capulets by wearing masks to disguise themselves. Romeo is upset over Juliet and says he isn’t going to dance. Mercutio then teases him over this and turns all of Romeo’s words into gratuitous sexual metaphors to poke fun at him. Mercutio ends up going on this whole rant about Queen Mab of the fairies, who visits people in their dreams until Romeo and Benvolio cut in to get things back on track. Romeo also kinda foreshadows the entire play at one point. See? Right here: ‘I fear too early, for my mind misgives Some consequence yet hanging in the stars Shall bitterly begin his fearful date With this night’s revels, and expire the term Of a despisèd life closed in my breast By some vile forfeit of untimely death.’ I do believe that is hinting at his eventual fate of death.”

Alcina blinked at her for a moment before smiling fondly and rubbing her head. “Such a smart girl,” she cooed. “I could have never gotten that out of this .”

Bela smiled, but then it quickly disappeared, and she leaned back into her chair, curling up and watching the fire once again.

Now Alcina was really concerned. Bela was never one to let go of praise and affection so easily. Usually, she savored it a bit longer before moving onto something else, but here she was, brushing off Alcina’s words and touch as though they were nothing.

Something was very, very wrong.

However, before she had the chance to take the risk and attempt to ask questions, Bela spoke up.

“Have you ever been in love, Mother?”

Surprised, Alcina asked, “And what brought this up?”

Bela shrugged, not making eye contact. She kept looking at the fire as though she wanted to throw herself into it. Her voice was small, so small. “Just curious.”

“I see,” Alcina nodded. She looked up, thinking for a moment as she wracked her brain of the memories of her past life. “I have been in love before. Many times, actually.”

Bela gave her a curious look, finally pulling her gaze from the flames. “Really?”

“Indeed,” Alcina confirmed. “Though, I do believe that just comes with growing up. You gain lovers, you lose lovers. Some were real, some were fantasies I made up. Some lasted a few days, some a few months, some a few years.” She took a sip of her tea again. “None of them really mattered in the end, though. Clearly.” Another sip.

Bela nodded faintly. “Okay.”

“Have you ever been in love?” Alcina decided to ask.

Strangely, Bela went rigid. Her claws clenched around the sides of her calves as she stared forward with pupils that were constricted into pinpricks. Sweat beaded along the golden crown of her head.

“I-I-- umm…”

Alcina furrowed her eyebrows in worry. She closed Romeo and Juliet with a bookmark to mark her page, then set a hand on Bela’s back. Her daughter was trembling.

“Bela?” Alcina said, keeping her voice soothing and low to avoid setting off the poor girl even further. “Is everything alright? You don’t look well.”

“Yes, yes,” Bela answered her, much too quickly for it to be convincing. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Before Alcina could prod further, Bela shot up to her feet. She began to chew on one of her claws, flexing her free hand at her side in visible agitation. Pieces of her skin broke off into flies and buzzed around her head madly. She seemed to be dissociating in panic.

“Bela,” Alcina rose to her feet slowly, not wanting to accidentally frighten her daughter. “Bela, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Bela said, even when she was so obviously far from fine. Her chest was beginning to heave.

“Darling,” Alcina said, and that seemed to get Bela to crack a bit.

With a tight whimper, Bela shook her head. “Hard-- hard to breathe--”

Instantly, Alcina loosely took Bela by the arms and lowered her to the ground. In the firelight, she could see the pallor of her daughter’s increasing panic as it morphed into a complete attack on her anxiety. Bela grabbed her wrists with her claws dug in for desperate grounding, and Alcina let her, even when it stung her skin. Her comfort was far from important in that moment.

“Alright, honey,” Alcina said. “We’re going to do the thing we’ve been practicing, alright? Do you think you can do it?”

Wordlessly, Bela nodded.

“That’s my strong girl,” Alcina said. “Alright, give me five things you can see.”

“Y-you,” Bela stammered. The words shook when they left her lips. “Your hair’s kinda bushy.”

Alcina rolled her eyes in a good-natured way. “Thank you for pointing that out, Bela.”

Bela’s fight instantly gave in at that and she hunched her shoulders in, looking ashamed. Quick to correct herself, Alcina lifted her chin so they could make eye contact.

“I was only teasing you, honey,” Alcina said. “Keep going.”

Bela nodded. “The fire; it’s really pretty. Your-- your, umm, chair; it looks soft. The book; not the best of Shakespeare’s works. And, ah-- the teacup; it has doves on it.”

“Very good,” Alcina praised. “Four things you can feel.”

“The fire’s-- the fire’s warmth. My heart in-- my heart in my throat. The floor under me; I should have worn socks.”

“I told you,” Alcina cut in playfully.

Bela swallowed thickly. “A-and, umm-- and my anxiety. It’s like a Lycan in my chest.”

Alcina frowned at that but quickly wiped it off her face for now. She stroked Bela’s cheek, gaining a spark of hope when Bela leaned into her hand.

“I feel you, too,” Bela said.

“You only needed to name five, little moth,” Alcina said, bopping her on the nose.

Bela just shrugged.

“But you’re doing so well. Can you give me three things you can hear?”

“My heartbeat in my ears; it sounds like thunder. I don’t like thunder. Umm-- the fire crackling; I like that. And-- and a raven outside. I think that’s Merlin. His cawing is kinda raspier than the other birds’. I think he may have hurt his throat at some point.”

A small smile grew onto Alcina’s lips. She continued caressing Bela’s cheek as she talked to her. “Now two things you can smell.”

“Fear,” Bela said almost instantly. Her nose twitched. “I smell fear.”

Alcina could smell it, too. The thickened dread wafting off of her shaken daughter was acrid, bitter, and unsettling.

“Umm--” Bela’s claws fidgeted, clicking against each other softly. “And your tea. Smells like cinnamon. Cinnamon makes me sneeze.”

“One more. One thing you can taste.”

“Fear.”

“Fear?” Alcina echoed, one eyebrow raised. “Again?”

“Yes.”

“What does fear taste like?”

Bela stared down at her claws, which she splayed open before herself. “It-- it has a slightly dull metallic taste that’s mixed with urea, I think. Sometimes it tastes like popping a bloody, pus-filled blister in your mouth and squeezing every drop out with your teeth and savoring it on your tongue. Sucking the wound clean and swallowing it down.” She clenched her fists. “But it doesn’t get clean. It doesn’t dry out. The blister just keeps oozing and oozing until all the discharge comes pouring out of your mouth, but even then it doesn’t stop. Because you can’t force it all down. You can’t just swallow and think it’s done. That’s not how anxiety works. It keeps coming, even when you thought it was gone, and it leaves behind this awful flavor of bitter bile. It’s acidic, too, you know? It melts your chest and stomach and makes you feel like you’re sinking in your own skin.” She looked up at Alcina, and her eyes were shiny and blank. “I taste fear, Mother.”

There was silence between them for just a moment. Bela wasn’t looking at Alcina anymore; she seemed to think the floor was very interesting at that moment. Alcina was still considering her daughter’s dark words, replaying them over and over again until the subtle taste of sour gall spread across her tongue. She swallowed it down and winced when it drooled over the back of her throat like rancid molasses.

“You did it, baby,” Alcina finally said, smiling despite her worry, despite the flavor of fear in her mouth. “I’m so proud of you.”

Bela just nodded. Though she was no longer having a panic attack, she didn’t seem any less upset. Alcina considered letting it go, especially after just having calmed her down, but if something was bothering her daughter so much that she couldn’t breathe when she thought about it too hard, she knew she couldn’t just leave it be. It could escalate into something much, much worse, and she knew damn well that Bela was willing to go to such extremes, if her explanation of fear and the way she kept looking at the fire wasn’t enough proof of that.

“Now,” Alcina saw Bela tense, but she plunged anyway. “I need you to tell me what’s bothering you so I can help.”

Bela shook her head with a strangled whimper. “I can’t tell you.”

“Bela, I’m your mother. You can tell me anything.”

“You’ll hate me.”

“I won’t hate you.”

Bela was quiet. Then, slowly, she dragged her gaze up to Alcina. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise, Bela. I would never hate you.”

Bela nodded. “Okay.” Her claws clenched into fists against the floorboards, knuckles shaking and turning white. She took several deep breaths before forcing out, “I-- I don’t-- I don’t like people like that. Like how I’m supposed to.”

Silence.

Tears flowed freely from Bela’s eyes and she choked on a sob. Her head hung in shame as her entire body quaked. The poor girl looked terrified, and the sight hit Alcina right in the heart--though she didn’t quite get it.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said.

“No, no-- you don’t understand,” Bela’s breath was coming out thin and raspy again. She sat up straight, claws now knotted in her nightgown, tensing and pulling. “I don’t-- I don’t like people, Mama. The way other people do. The way everyone does. I’ve-- I’ve tried, but--” She cut herself off with a whimper, tears pouring down her cheeks.

“What do you mean?” Alcina asked. Trying to discern Bela’s vague words was like trying to discern Shakespearean. “Do you think you can explain it to me, hun? Like you did with the book and the fear. I want to help you.”

Bela sniffled, then nodded. “I-- I, umm-- I don’t feel anything towards people. Like-- like that. Romantically. And sexually.”

Finally, it dawned on Alcina.

“When I read those cheesy romance books Daniela likes, I don’t get the characters’ feelings at all. Just the thought of being in a relationship like that makes me so uncomfortable and I don’t know why, and that scares me, Mama.” Bela continued, her anguish oozing into every word she spoke. “I don’t like the thought of being tied down to someone like that, but it still feels like something has been stolen from me. That promise of a future with true love and marriage and a fairy tale ending that Daniela always talks about is gone, even though I still want it. Or, at least, I think I want it. I don’t know what I want.” She sniffled, looking miserable. “It’s the same for sexual stuff. When I come to scenes with sex in them in books, it makes my skin feel all weird, like severed hands are crawling all over my body. I get embarrassed and awkward and uneasy, and I don’t understand that, either. It just makes me feel so sick to my stomach.”

There was a pause. Bela was taking several shallow breaths and digging her claws into her legs, so Alcina reached out and took one of her hands, stroking her knuckles with her thumbs.

“Breathe, baby,” Alcina murmured. “Breathe.”

“I’ve-- I’ve tried to force myself to be like everyone else before,” Bela said unexpectedly.

Taken aback, Alcina said, “What?”

Bela swallowed thickly. “With-- with a maiden. You know how I am with them- too nice, too polite. I befriended one of them. We were kinda close. After a while, she started making moves on me. I knew what she wanted for so long, but I kept avoiding it because I was uncomfortable or scared. But then I had this revelation: maybe if I did this with her, I would finally feel something! I would be like everyone else! So I did. With her. And I didn’t like it.”

“Bela…”

“It hurt,” Bela whispered. “Like I was being scraped raw. Or my body was being turned inside out. I felt so sick. Humiliatingly, I started crying during it, but I don’t think she noticed. If she did, she didn’t stop. Not until she was finished. When she was, I threw up after she left. I was so sore.” Alcina squeezed her hand, and she sucked in a sharp breath, “But-- but I had to have liked it! I got, umm--” Her cheeks began to turn red with embarrassment, though Alcina didn’t blame her. Having to explain your sex life to your mother would be awkward for anyone. “I got…wet. And-- and that happens when you’re aroused! So-- so I do like sexual stuff!”

“Oh, sweetie…” Alcina sighed sadly.

Bela hunched her shoulders in. “R-right?”

“Honey, ‘getting wet’ doesn’t always mean you’re aroused,” Alcina said gently. “Simply viewing something erotic, like a naked woman, for example, could trigger this bodily response. It’s also a way for the vagina to lubricate itself to help dull the pain of penetration. You can be in a sexual situation and be wet, but not want to have sex. That’s completely normal and one hundred percent okay.” She lifted her hands to cup Bela’s cheeks. “Wetness is not an acceptable body language for consent. Who were you trying to convince: the maiden or yourself?”

Bela stared at her for a long moment, eyes wide and damp, breath hitched in the back of her throat. Then, she began shaking her head, pulling her hair, and weeping, “No, no-- I wanted it, I wanted it-- I know I did. I’m normal, I’m normal--��

It was truly heartbreaking to see her child in such a way. Bela seemed downright devastated over her own sexuality, to the point where she thought she was disgusting and unnatural for something that was actually completely normal.

Taking her daughter’s hands to keep her from hurting herself, Alcina went to say something, but Bela cut her off, getting to the words first.

“What’s wrong with me?!” Bela cried. “Why-- why am I like this, Mama? Am I broken? Am I heartless? I-- I love you and Cassandra and Daniela! I love Uncle Karl and Uncle Moreau and Auntie Donna and Angie and the Duke! I love reading and animals and writing, but-- but when I-- when I try to-- when it comes to sex and romance, I--” She finally gave up and sobbed.

“Oh, Bela,” Alcina said sadly. “Oh, my poor, sweet girl…” She pulled Bela into her lap and held her close, rocking her back and forth to help comfort her. Her fingers gently ran through Bela’s messy hair. “Shh, shh… You aren’t broken or heartless, sweetheart. This is an okay thing to feel.”

“You-- you don’t think I’m wrong?”

Alcina’s heart twisted at the way Bela looked up at her to say that, her eyes holding so much sadness and pain. She tucked her daughter’s head back under her chin and tightened the embrace.

“Absolutely not. Do you think you are?”

Bela answered in a strangled whimper. Alcina couldn’t help but wonder what put such a thought in her daughter’s brain--though, this was Bela she was dealing with. her anxiety was a wild, bestial thing that made her worry about the most obscene things.

“Did you really think this would change anything?” Alcina asked. “That I could ever possibly love you any less?”

Bela shrugged weakly.

“I-I just…”

That deep shame from before seemed to return and Bela’s head dipped. Alcina felt like she was going to try and pull away, so she tightened the embrace and used one hand to lift the girl’s chin.

“Hey, hey,” Alcina murmured, brushing away fresh tears on Bela’s cheeks. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this, sweetie. There’s nothing wrong with you, either. And if anyone says otherwise, tell me. I’ll eviscerate them.”

That got a tiny, watery giggle out of Bela.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Alcina went on. “Sex and romantic relationships… They aren’t for everyone. And that’s okay. It certainly doesn’t make you broken or heartless.”

“B-but--”

“Hun, look at me. Do I really look like someone who will judge you for being this way?”

Bela shrugged a little. Her little body seemed to have exhausted itself of all its efforts to argue.

Alcina rocked her gently, stroking her hair the way she knew she liked it. “How about I explain something to you, hm?”

Bela looked up at her blearily.

“Your love may not be arousing or romantic, but you want to know what it is like?”

“What?” Bela asked softly.

“Your love is warm and fuzzy, like being wrapped in a blanket during a blizzard. It’s safe and reassuring. Your love is security and shelter. Your love is noticing all the little details, like my bushy hair because it’s late at night or your Uncle Karl’s finger twitching because he’s nervous at the meetings with Mother Miranda but is trying to hide it or Cassandra’s leg bouncing because she’s full of pent up, restless energy. Your love is knowing what makes each of us tick and doing everything in your power to make us feel better when we’re upset. Your love is like the first flower showing up in the snow as winter melts away and the beginning flickers of a tender flame and the gentle fluttering of bird wings.” Alcina let out a soft laugh. “I’m nowhere near as good at details as you are, my darling. But, most importantly, your love is normal and natural and what makes you you. And you shouldn’t have to try and change that for anyone, no matter what.”

Bela stared up at her in silenced awe, tears trickling down her cheeks. Alcina squeezed her reassuringly.

“I want you to know that I’ll always support you, okay?” Alcina said. “I’m always going to be here for you.”

Bela nodded, hiccuping softly. “Thank you, Mama,” she whispered through tiny whimpers. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Bela,” Alcina said. She kissed the top of Bela’s head and purred to her softly. “My perfect, perfect girl.”

#resident evil 8 #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #resident evil fanfic #dimitrescu family #with this unruly heart of mine

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moonbeamwritings · 4 years ago

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Imagine a scenario based off a dream I had, modern AU where DIO is like 28 a single father, Lawyer to the Stars on the Coast of California with little 7 year old Giorno.

The Reader, Tired- maybe coming off an over night shift, half asleep is casually walking down the busy sidewalk, catches sight of a distracted Giorno not waiting at the cross walk (on his Gameboy or something) and in an instantly the reader pulls Giogio out of the way of an on passing car.

Boom. Dio saw it all and starts scolding Gio. I woke up after that bit.

Point is... I wonder what would have happened next 🤔😕��

this is cool as hell, anon. cool. as. hell. i’m here for it and i will definitely try to deliver !! it got very out of hand, but i hope you enjoy!!

part 2

Your day had been long, having worked open to close at the coffee shop down the street from your apartment. As your shift came to an end, you blearily worked through the closer checklist, puttering around the store as you cleaned and closed everything down. With one last turn of a key, you finally, finally, began your trek home.

As you came up to the crosswalk, you noticed a little boy toddling along, gaming system in hand as he went. He was so wrapped up in his game that he barely gave the busy street a second thought as he stepped a foot off the curb.

It was like you were watching the situation in slow motion, his foot moving at a snail’s pace right in front of a moving car. Acting on adrenaline alone, suddenly far more awake than you’d ever felt in your life, you gripped the handle of his backpack to yank him up and into your arms.

With him back on the sidewalk, you placed him back on his feet as you knelt in front of him. “Jeez kiddo, you alright? You have to pay better attention around here.”

As the small boy opened his mouth to say something, a man with a thick british accent came hustling over. “Giorno! How many times do I have to tell you to put that thing away when you’re walking?”

The man, who you could only assume was his father, pulled the device from the boy’s hand before lifting him up into his arms. “Don’t do that again.”

His son nodded meekly, eyes shifting down to his father’s shoes.

“I’m sorry about him. I thought he was right next to me.”

You waved the man off as your gaze finally moved to meet his. He was handsome, like something out of a fairytale, all muscle with perfectly styled blond hair and an impeccable, no doubt expensive, suit. In the back of your mind, you felt as if you’d seen him before, but, being unable to place it, you brushed the thought away.

Saving yourself the embarrassment of ogling at the man for too much longer, you excused yourself. “It’s no problem. Have a nice night you two.”

With the situation over with, you continued your walk home.

Upon your arrival, you did everything you could to decompress: showering, changing, and situating yourself on your couch to watch mindless television. As you flicked through channel after channel, you finally landed on a celebrity gossip station, half listening as the host worked through this week’s hot topics.

You rolled your eyes.

She went on to describe yet another celebrity’s messy divorce, among other criminal charges apparently. Your attention was quickly piqued, though, when a familiar face flashed onto your screen. There he was a perfect combination of muscle, confidence, and style.

Dio Brando.

The man whose child you’d saved, who you’d embarrassingly checked out in a tired stupor, was Dio Brando. It took everything in you not to bring a hand up to smack at your own forehead. No wonder you’d recognized him, he was any celebrity’s dream lawyer and had his own fair share of scandals and nonsense.

Yikes.

With one final look at the man in question, you changed the channel, hardly able to bear the gritty details of a court case you didn’t care about.

The whole incident with him and his son became nothing more than a blip in your day-to-day life, telling a few work friends and leaving it at that. Did you sometimes check Dio’s Instagram out of what you explained away as genuine curiosity? Well, yeah, but you were only human after all.

The weekend after your run-in with the famous lawyer, you were tasked with another long shift slaving over coffee orders and dealing with rude customers. The moment the morning rush ended, you jumped at the chance to take your lunch break, situating yourself in a corner of the café. You watched as only a few customers filtered in and out, thankful that the worst of the day was now over.

Losing yourself in your Twitter feed, you mindlessly sipped at a cup of tea as the remaining time of your break ticked away, only snapping back to reality at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Mind if I join you?” Looking up from your phone, you locked eyes with Dio.

“Oh! Uh, sure!”

You watched as he delicately sat himself in the chair across from you, ankle perched on his knee as he shot you an unwavering smirk. As he got situated, he stuck a hand in your direction.

“Dio Brando.”

Biting back a snarky quip about how narcissistic his introduction alone made him seem, you gently placed your hand in his as you gave him your name.

“I wanted to thank you again for what you did for my son.”

“It’s really no problem. I think anyone would have done the same.”

He eyed you carefully, fingers dancing against the mug in front of him. “So, what do you want?”

“Excuse me?”

“As repayment.” He explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you want money?” Dio leaned across the table to mumble, “Sex, maybe? I don’t like leaving debts unpaid.”

A look of disgust crossed your face as you put both your phone and drink down on the table, moving to sit on your hands to resist the urge to smack him upside the head. “What are you talking about? I don’t want anything. I was being nice. You don’t need to pay anyone off for being nice.”

“Hmm,” He seemed deep in thought, eyes drifting up and down your face, lingering on your lips for only a split second, “nothing at all? You do know who I am, don’t you?”

With your break coming to an end and your patience wearing thin, you started to collect your things. “Look, pretty boy, I don’t really care who you are. You’re honestly kind of insufferable. I helped your son because he was in trouble. I don’t want your money and I don’t want to have sex with you.”

You hadn’t meant to be quite that biting, but you couldn’t help yourself. How dare he come into your work, assume that he owed you something, and then have the audacity to tease you about it? What the fuck?

“Pretty boy?”

“I need to get back to work. I’d really appreciate it if you didn't come back in here if you’re just going to pull more of this shit.”

Without sparing him a second glance, you made your way back behind the counter, placing your stuff in the back before returning to your place at the register. By the time you returned, he was gone. Good riddance.

You could only assume how warped his worldview was if he genuinely thought he needed to pay you off for helping his son. A creeping feeling of sympathy worked its way into your brain, but was quickly swatted away by the image of his smug smile.

You didn’t see him again for another week, this time armed with a grin that was a little less playful and a little more genuine, almost sheepish.

Taking his order with little fuss, you got to work pouring his coffee and adding specific ingredients. He attempted to make idle conversation with you, asking about your day and how you’d been doing with work. You humored him, if only to be polite, answering his questions with little enthusiasm.

Days passed much the same way. Dio would come in, make small talk, and then leave. No further incidents like that first meeting, no more overt attempts at getting in your pants. Nothing.

It was all… strange, to put it simply. It was like dealing with two different people: the overconfident, well-dressed Dio Brando versus the charming single dad Dio. You were left conflicted, wrestling the two images in your mind to decide how you truly saw Dio.

One night, he’d offered to walk you home after another of your late shifts with the promise that he’d get up to no funny business, as you’d put it. The conversation had lulled as you both became enraptured with the noises of the city, your faces bathed in warm neon lights. The silence was nice, welcomed even, as you thought about how to phrase your feelings.

You’d come to like Dio, in your own silly little way. You had memorized his order, knew more about his job and his son, knew him more intimately than you had ever expected to, but one question remained. One question loomed in your brain, clouding any positive thoughts you may otherwise have: Why? Why did he suddenly come into your work? Why did he take such a liking to you? Was it all a ruse, a sick way of finally repaying you?

“You look like you’re about to throw up.” He commented lightly, watching as a crease formed between your eyebrows, as your face twisted in discomfort.

“I-” You took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at him in order to actually get the question out. “Dio, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He spoke earnestly, eyes still tracing over your side profile.

“Why?”

“Why what? You’re going to need to be more specific.”

“Why would you keep coming into the store after I told you off? I just can’t shake this feeling that you’re still… ugh,” you groaned as the words left your mouth, deciding that this was actually a very bad idea, “I don’t know, buttering me up. Like this is all some dream where I’ll wake up to you laughing in my face, telling me that you were only being nice to me to repay me or sleep with me or something.”

Wordlessly, Dio grasped your arm and led you under the awning of a nearby business, not really wanting to stop sidewalk traffic with whatever confession he may find himself making. He looked deathly serious, like you’d just promised to ruin his entire life. Maybe, with all of your questioning, you had.

“Look,” he sighed, “Did I initially come in with the intention of repaying you by whatever means necessary? Yes and I think we both know that, but it’s different now.”

He paused, clearly choosing his next words very carefully. “You’re one of the only people to actually try to put me in my place, to show me that I was being an asshole. It’s different with you. Hell, you kept me up that night. I couldn’t get you out of my head. It was like you were haunting me, driving me crazy. I had to get to the bottom of why I was so taken with you.”

You felt your mouth drop open at his admission, feeling as though your feet were swept right out from under you, sending you tumbling, “Oh.”

“Oh.” Dio mimicked, his voice lilting up to tease you. “Does that answer your question?”

“Uh, I-... Yeah, I guess it does.”

“Good then let’s go.” He tugged you along, guiding you back out onto the sidewalk and towards your apartment. Dio’s hand didn’t leave yours until you arrived at your doorstep.

“Goodnight.” It was quick, uttered as soon as his hand left yours as he moved to turn around and make his own way home.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Home. I have a kid, remember?”

“Well, of course I remember, but don’t you want to hear what I have to say?”

The smile that graced his face was nothing short of teasing, a small quirk of his lips as he looked you up and down. “Only if it’s interesting.”

“Ugh,” you grumbled, stomping down the stairs of your apartment complex to come face-to-face with Dio, “you’re relentless.”

“So I’ve been told.” He watches as your lip twitches in annoyance. God, did he love to push your buttons. “Spit it out, then. What’s still on your mind? Eager to ask me more questions?”

In lieu of a verbal retort, you took his face in your hands and all but yanked him down to connect your lips with his, eager to finally shut him up. His response was immediate, moving his lips against yours as a hand weaved around your waist, another resting just above your ass.

As you moved to break away, his lips followed yours, pressing another needy kiss to your mouth. Finally satiated, he pulled back to take in the dazed expression on your face.

“I do have one question.”

Dio let out a barking laugh that had him pulling you closer, gripping at your waist, “What is it?”

“Is sex off the table now that you’re not trying to repay me or-?”

He rolled his eyes, leaning in so his lips barely touched yours as he spoke. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

#moonbeam answers #dio brando x reader #dio brando imagine #dio x reader #dio imagine #jjba x reader #jjba imagine #thank you for sending in!!#all of my dio fics end up being too long #a curse #this fic was purely a lady gaga fueled fever dream im so sorry

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xiaomoxu · 4 years ago

Text

LUCIEN - Taste Date

SPOILER ALERT!!

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

The projector in the living room flickered, and the music at the end of the movie was intertwined with the warm sunshine. In this space that belongs to me and Xu Mo, there is a warmth day after day.

I looked at the scrolling subtitles on the screen and yawned.

Xu Mo: Do you think the movie is boring?

Xu Mo turned his head and looked at me with a faint voice as always, but the smile in his eyes was a little bit more than usual.

MC: Nope. The movie is very interesting. I especially like narration, music and mirroring.

MC: It's the movie you picked.

As I said, I leaned against Xu Mo again, leaning my head on his shoulder.

MC: I just relax suddenly and feel like I'm lazy

MC: Obviously I did all kinds of imagination before the holiday, but when I could really rest, my brain went on strike, and I didn't even bother to think about the plan.

Xu Mo: However, if you don't plan well, this rest day will also slip away unknowingly.

MC: There is nothing wrong with this principle

MC: Then we will discuss how to spend a full and rich rest day tomorrow.

MC: But right now... just rest with nothing to do for one day, okay?

When I looked up at him, I was amused and blinked earnestly. Xu Mo seemed to squeeze my face helplessly.

Xu Mo: You...

Xu Mo: Do you want to watch another movie?

Before I had time to agree, Xu Mo's phone on the table rang untimely.

The caller is Aming.

Xu Mo pressed the hands-free button after answering the phone, got up and walked to the cabinet where the discs were stored.

Aming: Professor Xu, sorry to disturb you.

Xu Mo: what's happening?

Aming: Do you have any arrangements for today? The previous experiment has made some progress, I would like to trouble you to follow up.

Xu Mo paused when he picked the DVD.

Xu Mo: is it urgent?

Aming: It's not actually too late after the holidays.

Aming: However, there will be a few academic conferences and postgraduate papers that you need to check. Time will be a little tight.

Xu Mo: I know. Leave it until after the holidays.

Aming: Alright professor, take a good rest.

As the phone hung up, Xu Mo also chose the DVD. And I, who was listening silently beside him, suddenly had a thought.

MC: Xu Mo, I have a plan!

Xu Mo: Yes?

MC: Since it's a holiday now, there shouldn't be many people in the research right?

Xu Mo: Well, that's right.

MC: Then I will go to work with you!

As if shocked by my sudden suggestion, Xu Mo raised his eyebrows and said again to confirm.

Xu Mo: Go to work with me?

MC: Yes! This way you can spend the rest day with you without delaying your work.

MC: And it satisfies the condition of "fullness and richness" very well. Isn't it a great idea?

Xu Mo: I do not deny that this is a feasible method....

Xu Mo: But my work is probably not as interesting as you think

I shook my head vigorously.

MC: It is not an opportunity every day to see Professor Xu's work side up close.

MC: This holiday plan will definitely be the one I wanted to start a long time ago.

MC: "Professor Xu Mo's Ecological Observation" project adds an important record!

Although I have “sneaked in” here many times because I gave Xu Mo a lunch box or helped him take care of the plants in the office...

But walking into the office with him in this way and watching him sitting behind his desk up close is still a new experience.

MC: Xu Mo, you just treat me as if I'm not here, just do your usual work normally!

Seeing that I had quite taken out a notebook to record his daily momentum of work, Xu Mo gently tapped on my head.

Xu Mo: Well, now that producer MC is fully prepared, then I will cooperate well.

Xu Mo: But say it in advance, even if you feel boring, you can't run away.

MC: Pftー don't worry, I won't!

I hope our "cooperation" today will be turned well.

I held back a smile, sat pretentiously on the sofa in the corner of his office, and waved to him.

The so-called "Professor Xu Mo's Ecological Observation" project, only "observing Xu Mo" is my real purpose.

The person in front of me always seemed to be able to cooperate with my careful thoughts, and would not pierce easily.

For me, seeing Xu Mo's work in a rare way is already the most interesting thing for me.

Xu Mo sat behind his desk, his narrow eyes could not see emotions, only the light spots on his face swayed playfully with his breathing rate.

We didn't speak for a while, and typing sounds regularly echoed in the office where only the two of us were alone.

Xu Mo: Is it connected to the intranet?

Xu Mo didn't stop his hand movements and spoke naturally

MC: Yep, it's already connected.

MC: However, the network speed of the highest biotechnology institute is really fast

??: After all, we have a lot of data to process, and it will be troublesome if the network cannot keep up.

With a soft knock on the door, a familiar voice heard outside the door.

Researcher: Amin told me that the professor was not coming today, and he was probably going to accompany MC. I saw that the office light was on, and it was strange.

Researcher: Unexpectedly, you came together.

The other party was one of the researchers who followed Xu Mo as a researcher, and I had met Xu Mo several times before.

Xu Mo nodded lightly in response, and I also smiled politely at him.

MC: Do you have a job to talk about? Then I first

Researcher: No, no, I will go back to the lab now. Professor, you are busy, I won't bother you.

The researcher winked at us jokingly and waved away.

Xu Mo raised his eyes and looked at the direction the person was leaving, then smiled and said to me.

Xu Mo: It seems that when I didn't know, the researchers around me had a better relationship with you.

MC: Because everyone is very kind.

Xu Mo: A lot of things have been added to the office unknowingly.

Xu Mo smiled and pointed to the blanket on the sofa.

MC: Of course. My goal is to make it comfortable and easy to work with!

Xu Mo: Then I will wait and see.

In the next few hours, Xu Mo's typing sound never stopped.

Occasionally, a few researchers came in to submit materials, and because they were all familiar people, they directly handed me the documents that needed to be sorted out.

In this way, I also feel a little happy to be around Xu Mo and do something for him.

But....

Xu Mo: Ugh...

Hearing Xu Mo's sigh for many times today, I walked behind him and massaged his shoulders and neck.

You keep sighing, is your work today not going well?

Xu Mo: Is not. It's just that the efficiency is not as high as usual.

MC: Is it too tired?

MC: Xu Mo smiled and took my hand, leaned a little later, half leaning on me.

He took off his glasses and put them on the table. The eyes that looked at me were full of clarity, and there was no fatigue.

Xu Mo: If you are here, I will be distracted.

Xu Mo: Are you hungry, do you want to eat first?

The noon daylight gradually slanted, and the crisp keyboard tapping in my ears stopped.

Xu Mo stood up and moved his shoulder and neck slightly.

The work is more cumbersome than I thought, and it may take more time.

Xu Mo: Why not we have lunch together?

MC: It would be nice if Professor Xu Mo could eat as well as he did today in his usual work.

Xu Mo: With your strict supervision, I am getting healthier day by day.

Xu Mo got up and put on his coat, and naturally brought me a coat and hat.

Xu Mo: For the restaurants nearby.

Seeing Xu Mo's thinking, I interrupted him first.

MC: Today I am here to do "Professor Xu Mo's Ecological Observation", so just go to the place where you usually eat.

Xu Mo: But I usually.....

I can probably guess what he said subconsciously. I squinted at Xu Mo.

MC: Did you really eat well under my supervision?

Xu Mo: ....

Xu Mo: Compared to before, my life is indeed much healthier. Especially the love bento you sent, I ate them on time.

MC: Huh?

MC: What about when I didn't send it? Is it not on time?

I did not let Xu Mo go, but further "questioned" him.

Xu Mo: Overall.... it is on time.

Xu Mo turned his gaze away with a rare guilty conscience, and gave an ambiguous answer.

MC: Then take me to the place where you usually eat now.

MC: I have to supervise the cunning big fox Professor Xu!

Although I am always amused by him accidentally, I will never compromise in this kind of place.

Xu Mo: Alright, I get it.

Xu Mo: In the future, I will follow MC's requirements more strictly and try to ensure that I work and rest regularly.

Seeing that I couldn't help but Xu Mo could only sigh and surrender.

Xu Mo took me to a small restaurant near the research center.

Most of the diners who come and go in the store wear badges from the research center.

MC: It seems that this is still a popular meal of the research center.

Xu Mo and I stood at the end of the ordering queue, looking up at the short menu. The dishes were almost occupied by sandwiches, burgers and pizza.

MC: But the food does not seem to be too rich...

Xu Mo: Yes. After all, people usually think more about how to make eating time the most efficient than enjoying food.

Xu Mo: If you have not forgotten to eat, you will choose food that is portable and can be eaten as quickly as possible.

Xu Mo: So you can finish a meal while walking or working.

Xu Mo didn't look at the menu and ordered a sandwich when it was our turn.

It seems that he does come here often.

The clerk clearly placed the order and settled the bill. The smooth and streamlined movements are in line with efficiency aesthetics.

MC : I'm going the other way with you, and I will never give up any chance to enjoy food

MC: Occasionally, I ran for a cup of coffee during my lunch break.

MC: After all, eating is a very happy thing.

Xu Mo: Yes. Indeed it is.

MC: Xu Mo looked at me as if he missed and said with joy.

Xu Mo: I didn't think three meals a day were important or pleasant.

Xu Mo: But I found it now.

Xu Mo: This feeling is especially strong when you eat the rice cooked by this "Snail Girl".

Almost as soon as I was seated, the clerk had already delivered some nice sandwiches.

MC: Huh? Is this restaurant serving food so fast?

The sandwiches on the tray are very rich in content, some vegetables and meat, and it seems that there is an egg in it.

MC: Is this your usual lunch?

Xu Mo nodded and unpacked.

Xu Mo: The sandwiches in this shop are very popular in the research center.

MC: Is it because the nutrition is balanced and delicious?

Xu Mo: Would you like to taste it?

Xu Mo smiled and split off a corner of the sandwich and handed it to me.

While talking, other meals were also delivered over.

In such a comparison, I always feel that the sandwich in front of me looks very simple.

But as the saying goes, the food is not good.

MC: Well.... the nutrition seems to be very balanced.

I returned Xu Mo with a bright smile.

Xu Mo: Doesn't it taste good? It's better to say that it was just enough to swallow it just now.

MC: ....

MC: It must be that the ingredients used in the store are more particular, right? It can add rich nutrition.

Xu Mo: It's just ordinary ingredients.

Xu Mo: From a nutritional point of view, meat is somewhat insufficient, and the intake of carbohydrates and protein is definitely not enough.

I tried to maintain the smile on my face, somewhat worried whether the store would hear this straightforward conversation and swept us out.

Xu Mo: However, it has a unique advantage that it can become the favorite food in the hearts of researchers at the research center.

I opened my eyes slightly and listened carefully.

Xu Mo: High speed.

MC: What?

Xu Mo: The serving speed is very fast, if it is taken away, the speed is even faster.

MC: So that's all...

Xu Mo: Someone once did statistics...

Xu Mo: If you order this sandwich in this restaurant, you can save at least 13 minutes and 22 seconds even during peak dining periods.

As I listened to this so precise and unnecessary data, my brain gradually emptied.

Does the research scope of the research center cover this kind of place?!

Xu Mo: This statistical report covers all shops within a walking distance of 20 minutes, and the credibility is very high.

MC: That's it, everyone at the research center are so strictㅡ

Xu Mo was amused by my lack of emotional ups and downs, and he pushed my burger toward me.

Xu Mo: But the taste of other dishes should be normal and worth eating.

Sure enough, the beef Hamburg, which looked very tender and juicy, basically reached the standard of "delicious".

Compared with the tasteless sandwich just eaten, it can be called "delicious."

MC: So, do you usually eat this kind of food for lunch?

Xu Mo: Yes. This is considered to be one of the most optimal in all aspects

Xu Mo bit the sandwich in his hand and explained the facts calmly.

MC: Although time is important and this sentence is also very long-winded, I still think three meals a day are very important

MC: After serious work, it is worth rewarding yourself with delicious, nutritious and balanced food.

MC: Eating enough and sleeping well is not only a guarantee of life, but also a statement to myself: Today I am also living seriously.

Facing my serious "preaching" Xu Mo stretched out his fingers to smooth my frowning brows, and smiled a little happier than before.

Xu Mo: It is as expected.

Seeing me looking at him a little puzzled, Xu Mo smiled and fed me a piece of French fries, and continued to speak.

Xu Mo: Several times, when I ate sandwiches from this restaurant, I wondered how you would react if you came here and ate the same food as me.

Xu Mo: When you taste the taste, you will definitely hesitate to say it bluntly.

Xu Mo: You will definitely tell me after listening to my reasons for choosing it, to eat well and take care of yourself.

Xu Mo: My guess was not wrong.

MC: Hm....

MC: Why do you think of me at this time?

Xu Mo: When you encounter all kinds of things, you will always share with me

Xu Mo: Every time I receive a message from you and learn about every bit of your life, I am very happy.

Xu Mo: Of course I would want to do the same thing.

Xu Mo: Rather, it is the most normal thing to unconsciously think of the people you care about in every bit of your life.

Xu Mo's tone was light.

This is indeed an ordinary thing.

But this kind of thing, being said so bluntly and seriously by him, still makes my cheeks hot.

MC: You, why don't you hurry up and try other foods?

MC: This pizza looks delicious. Would you like to try it?

As if to conceal my feeling of making a fuss about "normal things", my body has already taken a step before my reaction.

(karma CG included)

I picked up the pizza just baked and handed it to Xu Mo.

MC: Is it a sweet pizza that you haven't tried before, try it?

Xu Mo didn't take the pizza I handed over, but just bent down and bit the tip of the pizza.

His snort rubbed my fingers, it was warm and a touch of humidity.

The reduced distance is like a switch that flashes a similar scene in my mind.

Xu Mo: is good?

Xu Mo who bit the pizza opened his eyes slightly.

MC: Is the pizza with cheese, blueberry and honey taste too weird?

I looked at Xu Mo's face and tried to find the answer in his expression.

Xu Mo moved closer to my side and bit off the cheese.

Probably the pizza that was just out of the oven was still a little hot, Xu Mo didn't speak immediately, but motioned for me to try it too.

MC: It is good!

On the first bite of the pizza, I also opened my eyes wide and nodded to Xu Mo frequently.

MC: it's nice!

MC: Unexpectedly, there is such a delicious thing hidden in a place so close to the research center!

The little beauty and surprise that I suddenly found, the joy that I shared with my favorite person the first time...

The scent of blueberries and the sweet taste of honey are intertwined, and the heart is full of satisfaction.

Xu Mo: It seems that I am too underestimated and I am too used to this restaurant.

MC: Coming with you today is really rewarding!

Xu Mo: Indeed it is.

As Xu Mo said, he picked up another slice of pizza and handed it to me, his eyes were softer than the lemon-colored sunlight outside the window.

Xu Mo: Even if I'm very familiar with the things I am used to, when I'm with you, it will always be different.

Xu Mo: It seems that as long as I look at you, I won't miss all the beautiful things.

Xu Mo's voice is still so faint, with some warmth and softness in the heart.

MC: In the future, I will continue to work hard to discover the little beauty in life.

MC: So Professor Xu will continue to rest assured with me.

He did not speak any more, just smile and stretch out his finger and wiped the corners of my mouth.

There have been many times when he used the same tone and tone to explain a certain theory and a certain truth for me.

Just now, he told me more facts about himself.

Small, ordinary facts have not been verified by large sections of papers, nor are they new discoveries that shock the world.

But it is absolutely correct and constant like any other law that constructs this world.

It was enough to make my heart beat faster than usual.

--- END ---

I’m sorry if there’s some mistranslation. Kindly tell me if you found some :) thank you for read it~ ^^

#mlqc spoilers #mlqc translation #mr love spoilers #mr love translation #mlqc lucien #mlqc xu mo #mr love lucien #mr love xu mo #mr love date #mldd date #mldd lucien #mldd translation #MLQC

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basicallywhiterice · 4 years ago

Text

on top of the world (dong sicheng/winwin)

pairing: sicheng/winwin x reader

genre: angst, fluff, flangst. friends to lovers, highschool!au, dancer!sicheng, spring break trip

summary: The fall to the ground doesn’t seem so daunting when you’re living on top of the world.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: cussing

a/n: if enough people get mad at me i’ll write a part 2

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

this can be read as a standalone, but it is part 1 in the on top of the world series. crossposted on ao3 here!

Chinatown, Washington, D.C., 7:01 p.m.

“Honest Abe? More like, honest babe,” Lucas hollers to Kun and no one in particular, drawing a few disgruntled looks from the pedestrians waiting for the walk signal to flash again. He winks at a man in a navy suit, who rolls his eyes and looks away. Yangyang reaches over for a high-five.

“Dude was 6′ 4″, of course he’s a babe,” Sicheng whistles, leaning behind Yangyang and craning his neck to steal glances at Kun’s phone.

To your right, Ningning flits around, snapping pictures of the street displays and assorted neon lights on the storefronts. You watch her alongside Giselle, who pops her bubblegum, periodically glancing at the traffic light at the bustling intersection. Standing shoulder to shoulder with you to your left, Kun rattles off a hodge-podge of facts about Abraham Lincoln and Ford’s Theatre, which you just passed by, from his phone screen to a faux-enthused Yangyang, who shakes Sicheng by the shoulders every time Kun reads a new fact. He occasionally gets pushed into Lucas’s side, rolling his eyes while doing little to hide the growing grin on his face.

“... and apparently they planned his assassination in the building the Wok n’ Roll restaurant we passed used to be,” Kun remarks.

“OH MY GOD SICHENG ISN’T THAT SO CRAZY?” Yangyang all but screams. “IT WAS IN THE WOK N’ ROLL!”

As you glance over fondly, your eyes linger on the orange hues and kaleidoscopic shadows the nearby “do not walk” signal spills over Sicheng’s face. After a moment, he looks away from Yangyang’s exaggerated bouncing. His gaze flits upwards, meeting your stolen glance with his own.

The world grinds to a halt beneath your feet when a strong gust of wind blows through your hair, propelling you into free fall into the depths of his eyes until Giselle tugs on your arm, pulling you back into the present.

She gestures toward the “walk” signal on the traffic light, and you fall in line with her quick footsteps as you stride across the crosswalk.

“We should go there later,” she suggests. “Try summoning Lincoln’s ghost or something.”

“The Wok n’ Roll?”

“Yeah. Do you think his ghost would have his top hat?”

“I thought ghosts were just spirits and didn’t take material possessions with them?”

“Yeah, but then every ghost would be naked, which would be hella inappropriate.”

Ningning overhears, skipping up to you and looping her arm through yours. “You have to prove the existence of ghosts and take them out to dinner before you get them naked, you pig.”

“I made yo momma sound like a ghost last night,” Lucas quips. “I skipped the ‘getting dinner’ part, though.”

“Goddamn,” Giselle exclaims as you burst into laughter, throwing jokes and jabs at each other for the rest of the trek to the ramen restaurant where you eat dinner.

Hilton Garden Inn, Washington, D.C., 9:13 p.m.

After helping Giselle and Ningning unpack, you knock on the communicating door between your hotel room and the boys’ in order to bother Kun.

Sicheng answers, moving aside so you can step across. Their room is surprisingly clean, although you chalk it up to the limited amount of time they had to unpack earlier today. Lucas sits at the desk in the corner near the window, hunched over his laptop while Yangyang peeks over his shoulder. You glimpse a few pictures of the Washington Monument on his screen before he scrolls down to other marble structures.

“Are you looking up other places to visit?” you ask him.

He glances up, cracking his neck before responding. “Yeah. I can’t find anything special that we don’t know about, though.”

“It’s boutta be lit,” Yanyang chimes in.

“Ayeee,” Lucas responds. They start aggressively patting each other on the back and arms, and you take that as your cue to leave before they wrestle you into whatever weird ritual they’re performing.

Turning, you see Sicheng flop down onto the bed closest to the windows where Kun lays, sprawled out. “Hey,” Kun greets, lifting his head from his pillows.

“Hey,” you reply, remembering the reason why you came to the room in the first place. “Oh yeah! I found a stop sign a few blocks from here on a decently busy street. It’ll take ten minutes to go there and back, tops.”

He groans. “I would love to go, but I just got a stomachache. Tell you what. Sicheng,” he says, propping himself up at a snail’s pace and clasping Sicheng’s shoulder, “you can accompany her there, right?”

“To a stop sign?” Sicheng asks, looking up from his phone.

“A hand-picked, top tier, magnificent stop sign,” you proclaim. “Whenever me and Kun travel, we always get a random passerby to take our picture in front of a stop sign like it’s a tourist attraction. Are you down for potential social awkwardness?”

The corner of Sicheng’s lips tugs up into a grin. “You know it. I’m not ruining your tradition with Kun, am I?” he asks, glancing sideways at Kun for confirmation.

Kun flops back down on the bed. “Nah. If I went right now, I’d probably ruin the tradition by shitting my pants there or something.”

Sicheng chuckles. “Promise? We could print out those pictures and mail them back to your parents like a postcard.”

“I like the way you think,” you say with a scheming smile, nodding at Sicheng before turning back to Kun. “Anyways, drink some warm water to help with your stomachache, maybe? What do you think caused it?”

He shrugs. “Not sure. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten that trashcan pizza slice in the subway.” Sicheng reaches over and flicks his forehead. “Ow! I’m kidding! Why would you torment a sick man like this? Go away and take your pictures already.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you ask as Sicheng asks, “You sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. Worst comes to worst, I’ll take a Pepto-Bismol in fifteen minutes. Go and have fun.” He waves you off, grabbing a spare pillow and lightly smacking Sicheng with it.

“Fine, mom.” Sicheng stands, pocketing his phone. “You ready? I just need to put on my shoes.”

“Yeah.” As he walks over to the closet, you sneak a peek at your reflection through your phone screen. Fighting back a sudden bundle of nerves, you discreetly smooth your t-shirt down, running a hand through your hair. Kun wiggles his eyebrows when he notices, and you flip him off, silently warning him to stay quiet.

He doesn’t. “Have fun on your date with loverboy,” he whispers.

“Shut up.”

“After you leave, should I check out the pool?” he murmurs. “Lucas and Yangyang said they don’t feel like swimming tonight.”

“What, isn’t your stomach—”

“Oh my, would you look at the time? Off you go!” He shoos you away, almost standing up to push you away and laying back down before Sicheng can turn around. You’re almost impressed by how well he set you up.

Still, though. If Kun weren’t your best friend, you’d shove him into the hotel’s fountain.

H Street Northwest, Washington D.C., 9:40 p.m.

Half an hour later, you give up on the facade of collecting anti-tourist pictures after the third stop sign, stopping by the Chinatown Express to grab a bowl of noodles with roast duck to go. You walk for a few blocks before finding a bench to sit and split it at, slurping them up in an appreciative silence.

“Oh my god,” Sicheng intones around a mouthful of noodles. When you look over, his cheeks are puffed, an empty spoon descending to rest inside the soup container.

“You look like one of those baby birds eating scraps,” you giggle.

“I’m certainly skilled with chicks,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, then scoot closer to pick up a piece of roast duck. Your knees touch, but neither of you move away. “Do you think there’s a more advanced form of life than humans, like aliens, and they view us how we view animals?” you ask, resuming the conversation you had about the meaning of life before you sat down. “Like we don’t think birds could become self-aware, no matter how intelligent they are, so then we can’t achieve the alien version of self-awareness no matter how philosophical we get.”

“Good question. Uh, alien self-awareness would probably relate to the meaning of life or something, right? Or the secrets of the universe and breaking the laws of physics. And because they’re so big brained, they could control things with their minds and be enlightened with telekinesis. So hypothetically, if I were a wise, sagely alien,” he says, gently picking up your hand and laying it flat against his palm, “I could make my hand pass through yours if I had enough brainpower.”

His hand is warm, and you hope furiously that your palms aren’t sweating. “Was this another excuse to hold my hand?”

“Well, did it work?”

You raise your eyebrows and fail at biting back your smile. “You already know, you just want to hear me say it.”

He grins. “Then say it!”

“Yes, Sicheng, it worked.”

“Awesome.” He moves his right hand to pick up his spoon, briefly tugging your hand with him until he realizes. “Fuck. Sorry, I have to let go of your hand while I eat. Unless you wanna see me struggle with my left hand.”

“As much as I’d love to watch you do that, I feel like that’d be an insult to the rest of the noodles.”

When you finally remember to stand up and throw away the long-forgotten remnants of your food, he holds your hand carefully but firmly as you walk past the White House, and you imagine his hold on your heart must feel the same.

Lafayette Square, Washington, D.C., 11:16 p.m.

“Dance with me,” Sicheng pleads, pulling you under a streetlight. You nod, but your feet stay cemented on the brick-paved sidewalk.

“I don’t know how to.”

“That’s fine.” You place your hand in his outstretched one, and he lifts your other hand to rest on his shoulder. “No one’s around to judge, so just do whatever.”

“Wise words,” you deadpan, but you let his hand on your waist guide your swaying.

He’s right, though. After the initial awkwardness fades, you find that waltzing around isn’t so bad after all—especially when he twirls you around the pocket of light underneath the lamppost so gently it feels like you’re dancing on air.

And when he dips you as you throw your head back, laughing, you think you finally understand why his eyes light up every time he finishes a dance performance.

“Is this what you love about dancing?” you ask once you’ve come back up.

He nods, eyes closing briefly. “Partly. The grand choreographies are the showstoppers, but the simpler moments keep me sane.” His eyes flutter open. “I haven’t let anyone see me dance with such bad technique in a while. I’m usually not this bad, I promise.”

“I know,” you grin. “I saw you at the winter showcase. You were amazing.” Then you take a deep breath, and brace for the worst. “The lyrical piece you closed with was the one you used for your audition, right?”

“Yeah, I—yeah.”

Abruptly, he releases your hands and steps back. You allow yourself to feel a twinge of guilt for mentioning the elephant in the room before you steel yourself for the impending conversation.

“We should probably talk about that,” he says.

“We should. Do you want to walk around the National Mall? You said you liked it earlier today.”

“Sure.”

The walk is quiet enough for you to overthink. Sicheng got accepted by a dance studio in Korea, after months of submitting auditions and traveling back and forth between countries. He’s leaving soon, even if he says he’s still waiting to hear back from Juilliard and keeping his options open. You see it in the goodbyes he keeps subconsciously saying and the memories he drinks in like it’s his last chance to, and you’re terrified of what your life will look like without him.

You glance over at him periodically, and he seems to be lost in thought too, staring straight ahead down the well-lit path. His eyebrows furrow as you pass under a streetlight, and you wonder if you brought it up the wrong way.

You’re disappointed in the crude way you shoved the future into a perfectly happy moment, then mad that you’re disappointed. It was inevitable that you’d have to talk about what would come after graduation, and it was inevitable that he’d have to remove himself from your side to chase after his dreams. It’s a wonder he hasn’t pulled away already.

Stupid, you chide yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid, loving so hard that your chest implodes from all the weight it carries, already drifting through the pangs of hurt and the wisps of melancholy bringing about a premature nostalgia.

“I’m really going to miss you next year,” Sicheng confesses out of the blue.

You glance up. His hands are shoved into his pants pockets, his eyes roaming over your face like he’s trying to remember all the secrets it hides.

You think you might always run back to him. You’re not sure how to feel about that.

National Mall, Washington, D.C., 11:33 p.m.

“So.”

“So,” you echo. “Have you looked at decisions yet?” It’s a pointless question. You know he’s not going to Juilliard.

“Yeah, I looked at them this afternoon in the theater.” He clears his throat. “I got waitlisted.”

“Ah.”

“I’m not going to accept a spot on the waitlist.”

“Why not?”

He shrugs. “I had made my decision anyway.” Then he sighs, his nonchalant facade dropping for good. “You can probably guess.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m accepting the studio’s offer,” he whispers, as if the air is glass and the moment could shatter at any moment. The words float there, above your head, and you imagine grabbing them and hugging them close to your chest before they slip away.

You don’t. “I figured.”

“Yeah. You knew.”

You stare ahead and will the tears not to fall.

“I’m leaving as soon as school ends,” he says, with the sideways glance that marks the start of his rambling distraction process, “and flying there on—”

“I’m gonna miss you,” you blurt. He pauses mid-sentence. “I’m gonna miss you like crazy. Can we talk about this, for real? You can tell me all the details later, I just—please,” and your voice cracks, “don’t dismiss this.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

A blink, and the first teardrop traces its way down your face.

You waste away the hours of your stolen youth with a boy who wipes your tears away and comforts you over the future that you’ll no longer be a part of.

National Mall, Washington, D.C., 11:57 p.m.

“Before I leave,” Sicheng says, scuffing the heels of his shoes on the gravel pathway, “I know I’d regret it if I didn’t say something. I mean, I’m going to leave anyways, so why not, you know? I have to say something before I’m gone. Um, so, you know this by now, but I… I—” and you already know what’s coming.

“Stop. I know what you’re going to say. Give me a minute to think.”

You make the mistake of glancing up at him, his eyes wide and shining. “Yeah. Alright. Take all the time you need, please.”

In half a year, Sicheng will be gone and you will be left to pick up the pieces of your life that don’t involve him, piecing them together the best you can and carrying on like there isn’t a hole in your heart.

“I’m in love with you.” One thud of your heartbeat. Then another. “Sicheng.”

In half a year, this chance will be long gone, and if you let it slip through your fingers without grabbing on, you’ll never forgive yourself for letting Sicheng become your biggest what-if.

“I’m in love with you too.” He raises his hand to cradle your face in his palm. “Y/n.”

“I’ve wanted to say that for a while now.”

“Me too. It’s not just because I’m leaving, you know.” You nod, his palm momentarily pressing against your cheek. “You knew.”

“Yeah.”

You stare up at him, the boy who wears his heart on his sleeve and holds entire galaxies in his eyes.

“What are we?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“How do you feel about dating?”

You freeze like a deer in headlights. “Dating?”

“Yeah, would you? Like to date me?”

And then Sicheng turns into a what-if again. “I don’t know,” you confess. “I don’t know if I could handle the split.”

“We don’t have to break up when I leave. We could do long distance,” he suggests, but it sounds flimsy even to your ears.

“I don’t know, Sicheng. I don’t want to end up losing you.”

“I know. We don’t have to, especially if you don’t want to.”

You nod once in acknowledgment, and then you’re stepping into his arms again. He holds you securely, stroking your hair and waiting for you to collect your thoughts.

“I wish we had more time,” you whisper into his shoulder an eternity later. “Could we have been doing this earlier?”

“It would’ve been too fast,” he reasons, and you’re inclined to agree. “We didn’t really… not until this year…”

“Yeah.” You’ve known Sicheng for years and have been close with him for months, but you only fell in love with each other when it was too late. “I wish we started hanging out sooner.”

“Maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way.”

“Maybe.”

You pull back enough to glance up at him, gaze dropping to his lips at the close proximity before immediately bringing it back up. His eyes follow the movement, a smile creeping up his face.

“One kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?” he asks, and he says it so earnestly that it’s hard to believe he’d be wrong.

“It wouldn’t,” you agree. His nose bumps with yours and you blink up at him once, twice, and then you’re leaning in until the faraway sounds of the city fade away. He’s purposeful and patient and when all you can think of is the brush of his lips against yours, it’s just you and him against the world.

One kiss might not hurt, but one turns to two and two turns to too many and when you finally pull away and stare into his eyes, dazed, your lips tingle from the ghost of his mouth on yours.

At that moment, the way his mouth slowly stretches into a grin does something to your heart, and you think you’d let it break a million times just to be the cause of his smile.

“Yes, Sicheng. Let’s date.”

He kisses you again, beaming so wide that his teeth knock against your lips and pulling you closer, almost picking you up in the process.

You wonder if you made the wrong decision.

66 notes · View notes

angelikook · 4 years ago

Text

Pas de Deux

Pairing(s): Dance teacher!Hoseok x reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff

Word Count: 6.7k

Warning(s): Profanity

Summary: Your dance teacher, Hoseok, might teach you a bit more than just dancing.

A/n Moral of the story, never seek validation from anyone. You can do whatever you want as long as you're happy and you're not doing anything wrong.

There will be a mention about Blue Side and its meanings. Check this link for the complete analysis (it's in Indonesian). Shout out to the writer for the in-depth analysis.

There were days when you wished you were more flexible. Or athletic. Or both.

Like today for instance.

Your weekly Friday-night private dance class didn’t look too good as usual. First of all, you had a literal dance God stood in front of you as your dance teacher. In front of him, you looked like a baby giraffe learning how to stand on four wobbly legs.

During the past few months you’ve been his student, through ups and downs that had more downs, his smile never faltered, his energy never died out, and his patience never ran out.

Every time you fell on your bruising butt, he only held out his hand to you and put on that million-dollar smile of his. Sometimes- Scratch that- Most of the times, you felt bad when you fell for the nth time in the span of an hour. Other times, you felt bad after your first fall. You definitely didn’t want him to think you were unworthy of his time and attention. That was the worst way a person can embarrass themself.

Your teacher, who went with the name Hoseok, and stage name j-hope, once again danced real slow in hope you could follow him. You both moved at a snail’s pace, but of course, your lack of athleticism wouldn’t let you go for 10 minutes without falling.

Out of nowhere, one of your feet caught up in the other one and made you stumble. And with that, your body unceremoniously collapsed. It was like any other times you had fallen, but unlike those times, you heard a loud crack coming from your foot.

“Oh, shit! Are you alright?” Hoseok stopped instantly and squatted beside you. “Of course you’re not fine. Why did I even ask that?” He mumbled more to himself.

“Which foot was fractured? Can you try moving them?”

You, ever so carefully, tried to move each of your feet. Weirdly enough, you were pretty sure your left one was the one fractured, but you felt a sharp pain when you moved your right one.

You voiced your thoughts, “Umm… I’m not sure which one is fractured. I think it’s the left one, but the right one is more painful.”

Hoseok sighed. “We need to go to the hospital. Here, let me carry you.”

“Wait, I-”

Like you weighed nothing, he heaved you and carried you bridal style. Instinctively, you circled your arms around his neck, his very sweaty and veiny neck. But during this critical moment, a sweaty neck wasn’t on the top of your priorities.

“I don’t think this is necessary,” you said even though the pain on your feet had subsided a bit from being lifted off the ground.

“Absolutely.” He grabbed your bag and turned off the lights. “It would be better if we can use the stretcher, but since I’m alone, we have to settle with this. Sorry if this is uncomfortable.” He walked out of the studio and locked it before walking off to the parking lot.

You estimated that the entire walk from the studio to the parking lot must’ve taken around 10 minutes. At this point, you were 100% sure you felt like a dead weight for him. Yet, he still kept walking while holding you as if it was nothing. It was either you overestimated your weight, or he was stronger than you thought. Your bet was on the second one.

During the ride to the hospital, you racked your brain for a way to say thank you while actually sounding like you were grateful instead of just for formality. But after minutes had passed, you came up with nothing so you just settled with the old “thank you so much”. You just prayed he could see your sincerity through you.

“Don’t mention it. This is what I always do every time someone is injured.”

True to his words, when he entered the emergency room with you in his arms, a nurse yelled his name and directed you two to an empty bed.

“What happened?” the nurse asked as Hoseok carefully lowered you on the bed.

In an instant, the comforting heat radiating off of him disappeared. In exchange for his warmth, you felt the cold mattress and the typical freezing hospital room.

“The usual. But she said that both her feet hurt.” He gestured to you.

“I’m going to call a doctor, okay?” Without waiting for an answer from you, the nurse left.

Once the doctor came, you explained in detail what happened with Hoseok butting in sometimes to add completely unnecessary details. He said things like, “we were almost done with the class”, or, “we were alone there.” Lucky for him, your pain stopped you from wanting to strangle him.

You talked more about possible treatments, how long it would take, and most importantly, how much it would cost. In the end, it was decided that you needed an x-ray.

“You can leave now if you want. I’ll be alright,” you told him right after the doctor told you to wait for the x-ray. The guilt of making him do all of these was starting to eat you inside out.

You had felt guilty from falling multiple times, and now you fell to the point you broke your ankle. If it was possible, you felt ten thousand times more guilty. And the fact that he wasn’t even complaining at least once made you feel like a disappointment.

Maybe it was better if the earth swallowed you whole right now.

He shook his head as he sat on the chair beside the bed. “No way. How will you get home?”

Crap, he was right. There was no way you could walk by yourself after all this. Or call a taxi. Just imagining you had to wear a cast and a crutch already made you shudder. This was going to be a long month, or months, for you.

“You must feel tired now. You’ve been here for-” You glanced at the clock behind his head. “-around an hour now.”

“Do you have a friend you can call over?”

The question hit you more than it should’ve. Your friends, the same people who indirectly forced you to try dancing, all lived across the city. You knew there was no way they would be willing to spend their Friday night at the hospital with you. In your mind, you could already imagine them going out on a fancy dinner, cuddling with their partner, or watching a movie.

Your lack of response was an answer in itself.

“It’s okay. I don’t have anything to do anyways.”

“You don’t have any more students? Tonight? Tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “You’re my last student for the week.” He stopped for a while before continuing, “And my most interesting one.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Interesting? How?”

“You made me think of… things, basically, clearly.”

“Like what?”

He took a deep breath before answering, “I’ve been the best dancer, performer, whatever you wanna call it. And after I started teaching too, I became the best dance teacher in the city. Like, you must’ve already known that from the tariffs of my classes.”

You nodded.

“But since you came to my class a few months ago, things have changed. I just lost… my confidence in my teaching. Maybe my methods are wrong or I need a different approach or maybe-” His words caught in his throat. “-I don’t cut it to be a teacher.”

Your eyes widened at his words. He had mistaken your inability to do athletic stuff for his bad teaching.

“I think you got it all wrong,” you said urgently.

You didn’t want him to think he was a bad teacher. He was, in fact, far from that. So far, you’ve never met a teacher even half as nice as him or half as understanding as him.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “How?”

You hesitated for a moment. Were you really going to out yourself? Your heart screamed, “yes!” at that.

“Well, you see, I’m not the best at, you know, physical stuff. I was actually setting myself up for failure by trying out dancing.” You saw him frowning even further. You let out a nervous giggle. This was a bad idea, but you were already in too deep anyways. “I know this is confusing. My friends have told me that a lot of times.”

A few seconds of silence passed. Hoseok just stared at you, probably trying to figure you out, who knew. You were just weird like that.

Finally he broke the silence. “Can you drive?”

The question caught you off guard. “What?”

“Driving?”

“Of course I can.” You looked down on your injured feet. “Well, not for a while, I guess.”

“And I take it you never accidentally kill someone, right? Or else you wouldn’t be here, you’d be in jail.”

This time, you were the one frowning. Where was this conversation heading? Nonetheless, you nodded your head, answering his question silently.

He, for the first time after you broke your ankle, broke into a grin. “Then you’ll be fine. And I don’t think you set yourself up for failure.” He pouted. “Don’t ever say that again.”

You smiled back at him. “Okay.”

A few moments later, you were called to do an x-ray.

Wordlessly, Hoseok hoisted you up and put you on a wheelchair he found nearby. With that, he pushed you towards the x-ray room. You weren't going to lie for the fact that it kinda felt nice to be pushed by a handsome guy. On the other side, it only made you feel even more guilty.

Once you arrived in front of said room, a nurse took you in and told Hoseok to wait outside.

With your clumsiness, this obviously wasn’t your first time getting x-rayed. So you didn’t really feel nervous, not at all. Plus, you were significantly older than the last time you got x-rayed. There was nothing to be scared of, right?

Who were you kidding? Of course you’d be scared. Your heart thumped loudly against your chest, you wondered if the nurse could hear it. Probably she could, but even if she could, she didn’t say anything.

Okay, then. Maybe you should focus on something else. What about something to tell Hoseok about his fear? You didn’t do a great job of comforting him. Instead, he was the one comforting you. The hell was that about, Y/n?

Without you even realizing, since you were so focused on Hoseok’s fear, the x-ray was over and you were pushed out of the room. Phew… Wasn’t that easy? But you still haven’t thought of something to tell Hoseok, though. Nevermind, you’d probably be better off improvising.

Hoseok sat on the long bench in front of the x-ray room with a small plastic bag in his hand. You were sure he didn’t have that before. Beside him, sat the nurse who accepted you into the emergency room who now was talking animatedly to him.

For the first time since you entered the hospital, you got the chance to take a good look at the nurse.

Her outfit hugged her curves perfectly, no weird bumps or creases. It was as if the fit was tailored just for her. Her hair was up and away from her face in a tight and neat bun. Her makeup faded here and there from the long hours of working, no surprise there. And her glasses only complemented her whole look, making her look beautiful yet strong at the same time.

Looking at her made you wonder about how you looked in comparison.

You were still in your work out clothes that you designated for dancing. They were saggy in weird places as a sign of old age and definitely had been left forgotten in your wardrobe for a long time because you didn’t work out. The leather in your shoes also flaked in some places, indicating that you needed to buy a new pair. You knew not to buy them, though, remembering you weren’t athletic.

As you looked down on your clothes, you realized there was a giant blob of sauce stain just in between your boobs. Where- What? How did you get that? And why hadn’t you realized it until now?

You abruptly stopped yourself from self pity as the nurse pushed you closer to them. If you didn't have beauty or grace or sexiness, at least you had confidence.

The nurse Hoseok was talking to was the first to notice your arrival.

She stood up and asked you, “Are you alright? Do you need a painkiller?”

She was nice, too. No wonder Hoseok would be interested in her.

For a second you imagined what it felt like for someone to be interested in you. You haven’t felt that in a long time. Not that you missed the feeling, you were content with being single and had no intention to date anyone. At least not while your ankles still hurt.

You shook your head. “It’s not that painful.” You turned to the nurse who pushed your wheelchair. “When will the result come out?”

“In a few minutes. For now, you can wait here or in the emergency room.”

You looked at Hoseok, expecting him to answer for you.

He immediately took the cue. “We’ll wait here. Thank you.”

“Alright. I’ll direct you to the doctor’s office once the results are out.”

You mumbled a “thank you” before the nurse left.

The other nurse, who talked to Hoseok earlier, though, didn’t leave as much as you wanted her to. Instead, she sat back beside him and continued the conversation like nothing happened. Like you weren’t even there.

“When I get off my shift later, do you want to grab supper?” she asked while batting her thick lashes. Were nurses allowed to wear fake lashes, you wondered.

Just like the Hoseok you knew, he turned down the offer politely. “Sorry, I don’t really eat supper.”

She pouted in an attempt to look cute. But honestly, with the makeup and sexy clothes, her cuteness was uncalled for.

Gosh you wished you were as sexy or pretty as her, surely you could get any man you want. Nope, you were still happy with being single.

“What about tomorrow? I get bored on Saturdays.”

“I-” His eyes flicked around the room. “I need to check my schedule first.”

Her face lit up. “Text me, okay?” And just like how she didn’t wait for your answer earlier, she left without waiting for his.

You grimaced at their awkward conversation. “She seems… nice.” It came out more like a question.

He exhaled long and hard as if he held his breath the entire time. “And too much.”

“What-?” you sputtered. “She was blatantly asking you out.”

“Yeah, I know that. That’s why she’s too much.”

A question crossed your mind. “Have you known each other for a long time?”

“Not really. But since the number of my students blew up, injuries became more common, so...”

“Oh.” You nodded understandingly.

You suddenly remembered that you had to comfort him.

“You’re actually a great teacher, you know. At least that’s the review from Google. You have 4.8 stars! That’s awesome.” At this point you just blurted out anything nice to him. “My favorite restaurant only has 3.6 stars.” And by anything, you meant everything.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Thanks?"

“No problem.”

“What about you, though? What do you think of my teaching skills?”

Once again, his questions caught you off guard.

It was still fresh in your mind about the day you signed up for a class with him. How he answered all your questions with his smile never leaving his face. The day of your first class with him, he explained the basics with so much patience. He never said no whenever you asked him to show the moves again and again and again. And today, he took you to the hospital and even waited with you through all the procedures.

He was an extraordinary teacher. And person.

But there was no way you could say all that. It would only embarrass you more.

“I think you’re… nice.”

He furrowed his eyebrows deeper at your words. He surely would get wrinkles early if he kept frowning like that. And that would be so bad for his handsome face.

Okay, maybe it was better if you said all that in the first place.

“I mean,” you spoke up again, trying to redeem yourself. “You’re the best teacher I’ve ever met. You’re nice, understanding, and patient. Something I rarely see in other teachers.” And handsome, you wanted to add, but it was a story for another day.

He finally no longer furrowed his eyebrows.

“May I ask you a question?” he asked quietly.

Another question from him wouldn't hurt, right? “Sure.”

“Why did you decide to try dancing if you knew you weren’t good with ‘physical stuff’?” He did the airquote thing. “Sorry if it’s too personal.”

“No, it’s alright.” You chuckled. “Remember the friends that kept telling me I’m clumsy?”

He nodded.

“Well, they were kinda the reason.”

“Okay…”

You took a deep inhale. “We’ve been friends since the third grade of primary school. We’re basically inseparable. But as close as we are, we have different lives.”

“I understand.”

“One is an athlete. She’s a swimmer and takes part in a lot of national championships. The second one is not as athletic, but she does golf in her free time. She’s extremely good, though. The last one is a pole dancer and she really takes pride in it. So far, I’m the only one who doesn’t really do physical things. In fact, I’m not into physical activities at all.”

“That’s alright. Everyone is different. What do you do?”

“I loved studying.”

“Loved?”

You took multiple deep breaths to prepare yourself to come with the truth. “They always make fun of me for liking reading over physical activities. Until one point I can’t even look at books anymore.” You bit your bottom lip. “They even made a different pact and left me out.”

Books were an important part of your life. And reading was the only time when you could let yourself go from the harshness of the world. The time when you could forget your problems, or even who you were, for a little while. Knowing your friends didn’t like that made you question yourself.

“I think studying is important.” He commented. “If no one is studying, no one will get to be anything.”

“I know that. And I wanted to learn how to be more physically active. That’s why I took this dancing class.” Then you added, ”It’s actually my last resort. I’ve tried and failed other activities.”

“I don’t think you should listen to them. Even your oldest friends can’t be right all the time.” He smiled reassuringly. “Thanks for sharing your problem with me. I’m gonna show you just how amazing non-physical activities can be.”

He looked down on his lap and immediately handed you the plastic bag he'd been holding. "The nurse gave it to me, but you can have it instead."

You accepted the bag and peered inside. There was a loaf of bread, still looking fresh and warm.

After that, everything just flew by. Maybe because you were tired and the day was almost over, or maybe because you had Hoseok beside you, who made waiting felt fun. Or maybe both, who knew.

Soon the results came out and the nurse took you to the doctor’s office with Hoseok following in tow. The doctor explained everything and helped you, along with Hoseok, to get used to walking with crutches. You were also given some pills to ease the pain. And after all that, off you go.

You were back in Hoseok’s car, heading home. Somehow, the smell of his obnoxious orange car freshener smelt comforting compared to the hospital’s disinfectant.

“You really shouldn’t have waited for me.” You glanced at the time on your phone. It was almost midnight. “It’s really late now. I’ll have to give you a big tip later.”

He laughed. It sounded like heaven in your ears. “There’s no need for that. I’m just concerned with your health. Plus, I do this to all of my students. Think of it like part of my service.”

You giggled. “Alright, if you say so.”

He snorted. “One time, a student was even left all day in the hospital by their parents so I had to wait overnight until they came.”

“That’s horrible. Don’t they care about their kid?”

"They do. But they care more about their alcohol."

"I take it they were drunk while their kid was injured?"

"Apparently their stress response is getting drunk."

"Oh my…"

"When I say you're not even half bad as my other students, you have to believe it."

Proving to you one more time about how much of a gentleman he was, once you arrived at your apartment building, he parked his car and helped you out of the car. He guided you all the way to your apartment, making sure you weren't hurt on the way. Maybe you really should find a man like him. Or maybe… him himself?

Nah, you weren’t looking for a partner, remember?

He helped you settle down and was about to leave when he stopped in the middle of the doorway.

He turned around. “Wait. Do you live here alone?”

“Why?”

Instead of answering your question, he blurted another question. “Does your family live nearby?”

“They live outside of the city. Why?”

He looked like he was deep in thought before shaking his head. “Nothing. I’ll just come back tomorrow to help you since you’re alone.”

You weren’t one to stop a handsome guy from helping you, but you already owed so many favours for him.

“You have a date with the nurse, remember?”

He scoffed. “I told her I need to check my schedule. Looks like it’ll be full.”

Okay…

A question suddenly came out of your mouth, "Why do you keep helping me? I have no use for you. I can't attend your classes anymore."

It was true. You wouldn’t be able to do any physical activities, including dancing, for a few months. Not to mention your lack of athletic abilities that would demotivate you from trying to dance again even after you recovered.

At first, he looked startled. His eyes widened and mouth agape. But then he quickly regained his composure before answering, "Is it wrong if I think of us as… friends? Are we not friends after all of this?" He gestured to your leg.

You gestured to your surroundings. "But friends don't do this. My friends don’t do this.”

"Don’t base your understanding on them. They're not good friends, Y/n. I'm sorry.”

“But-” You really wanted to counter his argument, defend your oldest friends. But you knew deep down that he was right and there was nothing you could do.

“Let me be a good friend for you, okay?" he said as he linked his pinky to yours. Marking his promise and the start of your friendship.

He wasn’t one to break promises and you knew it firsthand. Had you known him before, you would’ve tossed your friends long ago.

Over the course of a week, he’d shown you care more than what you��ve gotten from your friends your entire friendship.

He cooked you breakfast, because he said that you had to stop eating junk food if you wanted to recover fast.

“Athletic or not, health is very important,” he said.

“Yes.”

“That means you need to eat healthy, Y/n.” He rolled his eyes. “And don’t even try to give me the puppy eyes, it won’t work on me.”

He force fed you your meds when you intentionally forgot about them.

“I put your meds directly beside your glass and you still managed to forget?” he yelled. “Drink it, or I’ll leave this instant.”

At his threat, you immediately took them. You enjoyed his company and weren’t ready to have him leaving you.

Because he noticed how sullen you looked when you realized you couldn’t go out, he tried to cheer you up by dancing crazily to a song playing on the TV. He waved his arms randomly and went around you while yelling incomprehensibly.

“Can you feel the energy, Y/n?” he asked in between his yells.

“No. Stop before the neighbors complain! You’re too loud!” You cupped both ears with your hands.

“Tell me you feel the energy then I’ll stop.”

You chuckled. “Fine. Yes, I feel the energy. Now, stop!”

He abruptly stopped and threw himself beside you on the couch.

“Ew, you’re sweaty. Get off of my couch!”

Among everything that Hoseok had to help you with, adulting was the hardest. In particular, the working part of adulting. Obviously, you needed to take a leave for a month and in order to do that, you first had to go through your boss’ wrath. Fortunately, a certain man with the stage name j-hope was ready to help you.

“It’s gonna be easy. I mean, how scary can bosses be.” He dismissed your worries with a wave of his hand.

“Very scary, I warn you.”

Contrary to his belief, after the phone call with your boss ended, Hoseok was scarred for life. Bosses were indeed scary, especially your boss.

With wide eyes, he whispered, “Never ask me to call your boss again. He’s literally a devil in disguise.”

“But did I get permission to take a leave?”

“Oh, shit! I forgot about that.”

“Hoseok!”

When he had a class to teach, you tried to fill the void by texting your older friends. But as expected, they instead made you even worse.

One said, "Hope you get well soon. We'll come back once we're not too busy."

What about the two others? Well, they only read and liked your messages.

That was alright, right? They all had their own lives and were probably busy. It wasn’t like your injury was a big deal anyways… right? There was no need for them to be worried about you or shower you with attention or visit you. Yeah, that was absolutely normal… not.

There was no need for moping around, though. The next day, your old friends and your knight in hypebeast clothes came over. Yes, said knight was Hoseok. Yes, they came at the same time. It was okay to have a handsome man and your way-past-hormonal-stage friends to be in the same place at the same time. Or at least that was what you initially thought.

"Y/n," one of your friends said with a frown on her face. "What happened? We were so worried."

You almost wanted to roll your eyes. They didn't seem that worried when you texted them yesterday.

“And who’s this?” another friend asked while staring at Hoseok. And it wasn’t a nice stare either, more like a judging stare.

You scowled, but still tried to keep some decency. “This is my friend slash dance teacher, Hoseok. Hoseok, these are my friends that I told you about.”

The last one of your friends was the first to shake his hand. “Wow. Is that so? I hope you only hear nice things.”

At that, both you and Hoseok faked a laugh. Your friends didn’t seem to realize though.

“Yeah, nice things indeed,” you commented once your laugh died down.

You were in the middle of talking and catching up with your friends while Hoseok interjected here and there when you needed to go to the restroom. Both to relieve yourself and to hide from the awkwardness for a while. It always felt weird to merge two friend groups.

“Guys, Imma go pee for a bit, okay?”

Hoseok instinctively stood up to help you, but you gestured to him to sit back down. “I got this, don’t worry.” You gave him a small smile and went to the bathroom.

Sure it did take longer for you to just pee compared to when you weren’t injured, but it still didn’t take too long in your opinion. The cast made everything more complicated, but not particularly harder. However, when you were flushing down the toilet, you heard some talking noises, way louder than usual. It sounded more like angry yellings. And as you were washing your hands, you heard a slam of a door. What was happening?

Couldn’t stand to not know what just happened any longer, you quickly finished your business and went out, only to find your once full-of-guests living room now bare with just Hoseok in it. All the while, Hoseok was cleaning up the coffee table while humming a tune.

“Where-?"

You didn’t even get to finish your question when he answered, “Your friends left.“

“So soon?”

He shrugged as he tossed away the cloth he used to clean. “They probably have things to do.”

“And they didn’t even say goodbye to me.” You sighed and plopped yourself on the couch. “I only heard loud noises and a door closing. They didn’t say anything to you?”

“Nope. But, I told them to get their life together before criticising people.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Never in your friendship with your friends had you ever told them off like that. Sure they weren’t that nice, but you didn’t feel it was right to do that. Yeah, you were pretty much a coward. You scared your friends would leave you.

But to have Hoseok said that? Sure it was nice for your friends to know they were jerks, but you were surely going to lose your friends now.

You huffed and your shoulders sagged.

“What did they even do?” you asked as you watched him taking a seat beside you.

“You’ll find out. It’s better if you know it first from them.”

His answer only made you more curious and mull over what could have happened. What did they do that made a nice person like Hoseok say such a thing? Why did they leave abruptly? Would they end your friendship because of that? Would they ever explain to you what happened? So many questions were running through your head, but you couldn’t even guess the answer for any of them.

Hoseok knew how much you were distraught by what happened, so he, being the sunshine that he was, took you to watch him teaching dance to little kids.

“I’d be the oldest student there,” you whined.

“You come not as a student.” He laughed. “You come as my friend.”

“They’d be embarrassed if I watch along.”

“No way. They’re cool with it.” Then he added, “And cute.”

He wasn’t one to lie. The kids were indeed adorable. And their parents were also nice. While you were talking to the parents, the kids occasionally went to you to show you or ask you something. Mostly to ask you what happened to your foot. But one asked you a question that made your cheek heat up for the rest of the class.

“Are you Uncle Hobi’s girlfriend?”

“Oh- Umm…” you stuttered. “I-”

The parent quickly cut it before you could answer. “Don’t ask a question like that!”

“But I’m curious since he said he likes someone.”

You wondered who he liked, but you knew better than to gossip about romance with a kid. So in the end, you refrained yourself from asking.

Once the class finished, Hoseok came up to you with a proud grin and a sweaty body.

“How was it?”

“You were right. They were cute. But one little birdie told me something.” You smirk.

“Oh, no. I don’t want to see that face.”

“C’mon. Just answer me. Who are you crushing on, Hobi?”

He groaned. “You knew about my crush and the nickname. I shouldn’t have brought you here. This was a bad idea.”

“I think it’s fun,” you teased. “Now, entertain me.”

He sighed. “It’s a girl I know from one of my classes.”

“Not the nurse, huh?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Never the nurse. Did that answer your question?”

“Not really. But I’ll take it for now since you’re stinky. Go take a shower!”

“Yes, ma’am.” He laughed.

His Friday schedule, that used to be filled with a class with you, was now empty. He was a high-demand teacher, his empty classes were almost instantly filled, but no one really wanted to have a class on a Friday evening. That was reserved for laying in bed and nothing else.

So, instead of letting you mope around during the time which you should have been having a class, Hoseok took you to his secret space on the other side of the dance studio. Secret space because no one in the world knew what was inside aside from him and one curious student that accidentally found it.

Hope World was the name. Such a fitting name for a place with a warm atmosphere, two huge speakers, several smaller speakers, and two giant monitors. There were also a lot of hypebeast plushies and decorations. On the couch, on the table, even on the floor, covering most of the surface in the room.

You took a seat on the couch while feeling its soft surface beneath your hand. “What is this place?”

“This is where I make music. I’m a dance teacher by day and a music producer by night.” He grinned.

“Why did you decide to show me this? This seems… personal.”

“Because I want you to know that there’s nothing wrong with doing the things you like.” He turned on the computer and played a song.

“The song is called Blue Side. For a long time, I have had problems finishing this song. But then I found the final piece.”

“What was it?”

“I needed to let go of my past happiness for a greater happiness,” he answered without hesitation, as if he already rehearsed that. “That’s kinda the gist of the song, too. And I think you need that advice right now.”

He was right. Sacrificing your past happiness that was your old friends would probably change your life drastically. You needn't seek their validation in anything you do. Only you mattered because you were the one living your life. Question was, were you ready to let them go?

You looked at him in his eyes. A small smile played on your lips. “Thank you.”

He smiled back before going back to his computer to change the song.

“Okay enough of depressing shit. Let’s dance!” He carefully took your hands in his and pulled you up on your feet.

“I can’t dance,” you whined. “With or without the cast.”

“We’re not doing that kind of dance, you doofus. We’re just swaying along to the song.” He wrapped an arm around your waist so you could follow his sways easier. On instinct, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

He swayed ever so slightly, following along the rhythm of the song. The melody filled around the room, into your ears, and out of it again. Hoseok’s strong hands held you, making sure you were steady and wouldn’t topple over. The smell of the room that was so Hoseok, you were pretty sure he used his own perfume to freshen his room. Yet, among all of these foreign things, you felt just right. You felt home.

Once you got the hang of it, you laughed. “This is the easiest dance move you’ve ever taught me.”

“Glad you think this is the easiest because I don’t know any other easier moves.”

“Well, I’m sorry for being unathletic,” you defended yourself. “I didn’t ask to be born like this.”

“What? Born naturally gorgeous?” Soon after those words left his mouth, he looked anywhere else but you, totally pretending like nothing happened.

With cheeks burning, you complained, “You can’t say that and pretend nothing happened.”

He looked back at you and laughed. “Why? Are you shy?”

You punched his chest in a joking manner.

It was when the song stopped when you realized how close you were to Hoseok. You could even smell his cologne, see his tiny freckles scattered on his face, and feel his breath that smelled like mint, a sure sign he ate too many mints. If he was handsome from a distance, he was mesmerizing up close.

Your eyes found his and you saw how captivating his eyes were. Pools of warm brown eyes, deep enough to drown and hypnotize you. And when he smiled, they turned into crescents with wrinkles at the side. Simply put, he had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen.

Your mind snapped back into reality and you immediately let go of him in a panic. Just as you let him go, he also let you go on instinct, making you unable to keep your balance and struggle to find your footing.

“Oh, shit!” He steadied you again with his hands on your waist. “Are you alright?”

Your eyes widened at the event that just unfolded. “Yeah. Thanks for saving my life again.”

“Just so you know, I don’t mind saving you repeatedly if that’s what I need to do to keep you alright.”

It was safe to say that his words echoed in your mind for the rest of the day.

The next day, your questions from the previous days were answered.

“We’re very sorry about what we did,” one of your friends said as soon as they entered your apartment.

“Is this about when you guys left a few days ago?”

“Yes. But we have a reason for that,” another friend answered.

“And the reason being?” You raised an eyebrow, anticipating what was coming next.

You were no longer sure if you wanted to hear it.

“We-”

“We talked shit about you to Hoseok,” the last one interjected. Always to the point, that one.

“We’re very sorry. I know it was wrong and stupid of us to do that. We get it if you don’t want to befriend us anymore,” the first one spoke up again.

Sure you felt sad, but a part of you knew that this had been happening long before. It was more like you waited for them to finally come clean and confess to them, so you weren’t surprised at all. And with them coming clean, you were relieved. You could finally let them go in peace. Just like what Hoseok had said.

You nodded your head slowly. You didn’t have the strength to even look at them in their eyes. “Thanks for being honest with me and for being my best friends all this time. But everything has an end and I think this is ours.”

“I assume they have apologized?” Hoseok asked after looking at your bright smile. The smile of a person who could finally let go of their burdens.

It was Sunday, the day after your friends confessed, and you were stuck in the library with him. While you wanted to listen more to his songs, he wanted to take you to the library. It took a bit of bickering, but he won in the end since you both had never been to a library together before.

“Yes. Thanks for defending me. You didn’t need to do that.” You reached for a book that was too high.

Hoseok came behind you and grabbed the book before handing it to you. “Hadn’t I done that, they’d still walk all over you.”

Oh how true his words were, but you weren’t going to admit that.

“Whatever. I’m still grateful, though.”

“You’re very welcome.”

You sat at a corner and he followed suit, sitting right beside you.

“And what did you say to them?” he asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t remember, but what’s important is that I cut ties with them. I did exactly what you had taught me.”

“I know you’re a good student. Always diligent and curious. And a fast learner, too.”

“Aren’t you proud of me?” You grinned at him.

“I’m always proud of you, ever since the first day you joined my class.”

Sure, there were days in which you wished you were more athletic, but if it weren’t for your lack of athleticism, you wouldn’t have been this close with Hoseok. Or ending your toxic friendship. So you gotta give the credits where it was due.

“Last lesson, enjoy the things you love to do unapologetically.”

“One question, what was your past happiness?”

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