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babytaes · 3 years

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†hê Ðêmðñ (the beauty of sin)

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You're a guardian angel who's never been tasked with protecting anyone. Since you've been here since Creation, sitting around in heaven hasn't brought you any rewards. You were looking forward to the day when you'd be assigned a human to look after. When that day finally arrives, things take an unexpected turn when you are assigned to Heeseung, a demon from the underworld.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: heeseung x female reader

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst, suggestive/smut

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 4k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: profanity, smut scenes, bad boy heeseung (lol),

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: click me before reading!

➳ part of the drunk & dazed series

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

Sin is a spiritual virus that invades the whole being. It makes you morally and spiritually weak. It’s a deadly disease that infects every part of you: your body, your mind, your emotions, and your motives—absolutely everything. Nobody has the strength on their own to overcome its power.

Nobody should ever commit sin, never giving in to their worldly and sinful impulses. It's unjust and wrong. However, what is it about sin that makes it so fascinating and enjoyable?

It gave you joy to see it in his smile or the way his hands caressed your body. What a lovely thing sin is!

Even though some sins are innocent and enjoyable, sometimes regulations are supposed to be broken. Everyone, after all, is a sinner.

“WHAT!?,?” You began to sweat as you worriedly communicated your concerns to your overseer, “You must be mistaken, High Lord.”

“I understand the protocol; angels are supposed to serve as "guardian angels" to beautiful or broken souls on Earth. You know we're expected to look after them and keep an eye on them to make sure they stay on track. With all due respect, ma'am, I don't believe I'm qualified for this position; at the very least, someone of level 10 would be ideal.”

Her cream-colored wings swept her off her feet as she chuckled and waved for you to follow her. You sighed as you flutter up and away with her, trailing behind her, feeling a twitch in yours.

As you eventually caught up to her, dodging angels left and right, you apologized to random angels in your path, uncomfortably smiled at the people you bumped into with your wings.

You retracted your wings closer to you and walked uneasily beside your overseer as you carefully stepped down on the golden road.

Before you could say anything, she quietly took your hand in hers and gently kissed it, assuring you that everything would be alright. As you approached the center of the commotion, you bit your lower lip and remained silent.

Looking around at the community, it warmed your heart to see so many people, young and old, out here. Some you've known since the beginning of time, while others were born only last week. Everyone had gathered to witness the masterpiece that would emerge in an instant.

“You know Y/N I have complete faith in you that this first expedition will be a breeze,” you smiled, looking up at her with excitement and a tinge of fear in your eyes. “We wouldn't have suggested you for the job unless we knew who you really are, and you've earned it.” Don't worry, you were expecting this; now have a look.”

With her finger pointing to the stage forward, you were treated to yet another spectacular show. They're known as the "Grand Turning" in Heaven. This is where a new or seasoned angel has completed his or her training with a human or demon and earned their proper place in the community.

It could be a badge, a ribbon, or something more unique, such as the opportunity to talk with the all-powerful, our God.

Despite the fact that you were assigned to him, you were determined to get those jobs because they were the only way for you to ever get that honor. You weren't going to allow Mr. Unperfect take away that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Nobody could and will ever be able to make you fail this assignment; you were meticulously prepped. You were taught the correct and only way to do things, and now was your opportunity to shine. You were not going to be a Lucifer, cast from Heaven

“I'll do it,” you said to your supervisor, a smile on your face and confidence in your eyes. She turned to face you and hugged you passionately, rubbing your wings with a motherly devotion.

“I knew you could do it; now it's time to get you ready.”

---

When people have a near-death experience, they always remark that life flashes before their eyes. Unfortunately for angels, it's the contrary; when we're approached with a high-alert danger or warning, it's more of a gentle whisper in our ears. Normally more attentive while traveling to Earth.

The best place to be humans say.. What is with these fickle minded words?

You take a deep breath and turn to face your overseer, who is polishing her wings to ensure that they are kept in order. When having wings, a routine is taught from the beginning to keep them in a good up do. Nobody wants to look simple when you can look stunning.

She took your hand in hers and walked toward the end of the route, issuing some documents to the Pearl City Gate guards. You noticed the circular orb while glancing around.

"How can some humans believe in the world being flat, we literally have an air-like view. To me, it's definitely round.” She chuckled as she pinched your cheeks and turned your puzzled face to her.

“When you get down to earth, you'll see a lot of that, people with a lot of opinions. But what did you learn in your training?”

Standing up and smoothing your wings, you calmly shouted out the words as if they were written on the back of your palm.

“Although humans are the destroyers of their own precious planet, everyone's opinion matters, regardless of race, gender, or identity.”

“Well, not all,” you began scratching your head, “I've seen some harsh individuals in our study books, God should strike them down-“

“Um no ma'am, let us put it aside for the time being and focus on what needs to be done.” She started going over a list of laws and regulations for your descent to Earth. As you gave her a thumbs up, you were attentively listening and mentally bookmarking everything in their designated area.

I believe I have a good understanding of everything, and I think I am prepared.” She offered you a short hug before letting you go, showing her affection for you. You were going to miss her, despite the fact that it was a mutually-surface relationship.

“Last but not least, this ordeal will be different in that people will be able to see you. But if you have to use your wings, the lad is the only one who can see you. When you arrive, he will be waiting for you. My child, best of luck and may God bless you.”

You let go of her and moved toward the road's edge, gripping your bag as you turned to face her and waved farewell as you stepped over the brink.

“Wait a minute, what if-“

When you felt a push from behind, you tumbled off the ledge and spun around in the sky, where you saw a smiling face as you glanced up. They didn't tell you that you'd have to be pushed. As you plunged to Earth, you closed your eyes, terrified. Oh, how nice.

Screaming, you descended into the atmosphere, your narrowed eyes seeing glimpses of land here and there. Not letting up you let your wings cover your whole body as you plopped down onto soft green grass.

You peered out from your wings, gasping for air, and glanced up.

“Oh, Heavens”

His physique was slender, active, and well-groomed, with a trace of bad boy behavior in his scent. The first thing that struck your eye were the rips in his jeans. How could a man-made mistake seem to be so appealing? As you raised your eyes, you noticed tattoos splattered across his arms and up to his neck. His black velvet-like wings fluttering in the breeze, he raised his palm to his hair and stroked through the old curls, deconstructing the pattern they had once formed.

“Did you just pull a Lucifer or was this all planned?” he coughed as he put out his hand to you, taking a good look at you.

Stuttering in your words you quickly got up and patted yourself off and finally looked him in the eyes, noticing his dark eyes.

“Well, that wasn't supposed to happen, I hoped to fly down here and appear more Angel-like, but I think my overseer had other ideas.”

He said, "Ah," with a bored expression on his face.

“My name is Heeseung, and if you don't mind, I assume you don't.” I guess my name is well-known in Heaven. You're probably the fifth Angel who has appeared in the last year to “assist me.” What a load of bullshit; you can't hide what's already there, you know.”

He made a pouty look as he smirked closer to you before covering his hand with his mouth and saying, “oh forgive me, I suppose I have a potty mouth.”

Panicking at this new light, you smiled and coughed loudly and suddenly, “Before you say anything else, I'd want to inform you that I'm not like those angels we don't talk about. I have a holy standard that I adhere to.

He rushed to your face, rolling his eyes at your innocence, and murmured to you, "well see about that little Ms. Purity."

As you moved back and shook your head, spurring out prayers, you tugged the strings of your bag close to you, seeming irritated. Looking up, you noticed him hovering in mid-air with his arms crossed, waiting for you.

“Whether you're coming or not, I'm in the mood for a cup of coffee. Allow me to go fetch you one so that this whole ordeal between us may be over soon and we can both return to our respective worlds.”

You instantly snap open your wings and shot up into the sky, scoffing at his rudeness, and dash by him, racing to the left.

“It's this way, dummy,” he cackled as he immediately shot out. Embarrassed and annoyed, you flipped over to his side and flew alongside him, praying to the Lord for peace as your rage subsided.

“Lord, so help me”

---

“So, what's on the agenda, Ms. Purity? There are a lot of things I'd want to do with you. You know, if you just ditch this whole act, we might be able to have some fun. He winked at you as he sipped his drink while peering across the table.

You shook your head and chuckled, gagging at his remark, "You must get all the girls, you appear really, what's the word, competent" I'm astonished since I assumed everyone down under was inept.”

He smirked and crossed his legs as he lay startled in his chair, cocking his head to the side. It's not that you were trying to be mean; it's just what you were taught. There are no hard feelings.

“Well, as much as I'd like to keep this delightful little date going, I have a commitment to fulfill. You know, duty calls.” You quickly got up and hurried after him, confused as to where he was going, as he shot up in the air and chuckled, waving farewell to you.

“Wait, Heeseung, you can't just go away like that. We need to figure out how I'm going to find you. You're being impolite by getting up and leaving.” You made yourself look insane since you didn't realize no one could see him. You wouldn't want to be labeled as one of these Earthlings.

You beckoned him down, mentally terrified, “Please can you just come down for a damn second.” Your jaw dropped as you hurriedly covered your mouth. Heeseung's jaw dropped when he appeared in front of you, stunned.

“Gasp, I'm hearing a term I'm sure they don't say in Heaven. Hmm, I suppose the Earth changes people.” He went closer to your ear, his warm arm bouncing on your skin as he giggled, his lips inches away from yours.

“I've already entered my phone number into your phone; you do understand what a phone is, right?” Doesn't matter, I have to get somewhere, and you can locate me later. Okay, I'll see you later.” He swept up in the air and rushed over to the bridge as he vanished into the horizon, rushing out in a haste once more.

You sat back in the coffee chair, wiped your brow, and focused mentally and spiritually, pleading with the Lord for help and forgiveness. You had a feeling this mission was going to be a disaster.

Whining, you threw your hands in the air and sat face down on the table, groaning as you realized this trek. It's no surprise that these honors are well-deserved; it takes a lot of effort.

You cautiously lifted your head and faced the barista after hearing a soft tap on your table. She smiled at you as she set down a piece of paper. You scowled as you inspected the weird set of paper.

“What a jerk, he didn't just leave me to pay for both drinks.” With a shake of your head, you reached inside your bag and drew out a wallet. Your overseer informed you that many people like flaunting and spending their money, so she provided some for you just in case.

As you cleaned up, you began to mentally map out your route through town, mentally picturing the locations and navigating your way home. As you walked over to the cashier, you handed her some money and thanked her before heading out the door.

At the very least, you landed in a fantastic location. It was in the heart of South Korea, and the city was called Seoul, a wonderful metropolis to be sure. You were taught to master specific languages for specific tasks, so communicating wasn't a problem. Despite the fact that you were new in a strange place, you were determined to make the most of it. The first step was to return home and examine the situation.

How to manage Lee Heeseung.

Arriving at your small abode was an adventure in itself; it didn't take long for you to connect your GPS and get going. It was actually fairly pleasant and provided a change of scenery to enjoy. It's not quite Heaven, but it's still lovely. When you finally arrive at your destination, you look up to see a little, charming apartment in front of you.

They really went all out for you, and it's very much in your style. You'd felt right at home as soon as you stepped inside, as it was more modern and sophisticated.

To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing, but it felt good to have your own little place to do anything you wanted. You could get used to this, no wonder why humans never leave their house. Who would want to leave when you have everything here. Food, entertainment, and a BALCONY!!

As you finished exploring the apartment and basked in its magnificence, you laughed to yourself as you made your way to the couch, sinking into its coziness as sleep took over your mind and body.

*Crunch, thud, bang*

As you lurched forward, you flew up your wings in defense mode, trying to understand what you'd heard.

“Who's there? I have a weapon, and I'm not afraid to use it.”

When you hear a familiar giggle, you look up and see the attractive intruder. Walking over to you and snatching the pillow from your grasp he took your hand and pulled you over to the island where he had prepared some food.

As you took it all in, you smelt familiar scents and smiled, completely forgetting about it until you were reminded again.

“Wait, what are you doing in my apartment, and how did you get in?”

He began to remove some pots and pans from the stove while he placed some food on a platter, saying, "I have my methods."

“I'm not sure what you eat up there in Heaven, but I'm guessing it's all healthy and nutritious food.” You laughed and shook your hand in disbelief while shaking your head.

“I don’t think out of all places we would be eating so strictly. It's basically whatever you can get your hands on.. It's guaranteed to be better food than what you'll find in Hell.”

Pulling the dish away from him, you began to pick at the fries, popping one into your mouth and savoring the flavor, “not bad.”

He bowed in front of you, wiped the sweets from his brow, and returned to sit next to you, grabbing a dish and feeding himself some. As the night progressed, you told him the rundown for the next three months.

“So, despite the fact that you're definitely one of the worst jerks I've ever encountered. For this to function, we'll need to create certain ground rules.” Aiming a finger between you and him. “I'm not sure whether you've ever had to do anything for anyone else in your life, but it's all about serving people around here, and that's why I accepted this assignment. Even if you don't want to help yourself, I want to help you.”

As Heeseung shuffled around in his chair, avoiding eye contact with you, the atmosphere became tense.

“Harsh, but keep going.”

Smiling you continued as you tried to wrap your head around this complex creature.

“I understand that we are supposed to protect and guide you to do good, but it appears that we have progressed far beyond that, and we need to start at the source of your problem, which is most likely your heart or mind. What's going on in both?

As his words danced across your lips, he smirked and drew you closer to him.

“Now there's a secret.”

Smirking as your face felt warm, you cocked your head to the side and touched his shoulder before getting up and setting your dish in the sink, cleaning up as piercing eyes stabbed your back.

“I understand what you're thinking, and I've got it all under control.”

He approached you and said, "If you say so," as he put his head against your ear.

2 months later

Everything was certainly out of hand, and he was to blame. Your strategy not only failed, but it was only a matter of time until your overseer found out. And you didn’t want to end up like the last guy tossed from Heaven.

It wasn't all that bad, but who were you kidding, it was a disaster. It wasn't a major shift; rather, it was a series of modest changes. Things like accidentally cursing or hanging out with him at ungodly hours. You convinced yourself that everything was OK.

He drew you into your room and sat you down while hovering over you, gently caressing your body and kissing you.

You smiled and drew him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist and bringing him down on you, closing the distance between you.

Heeseung has been on a mission to damage your "innocent demeanor" for the past two weeks. He intended to show you that it was all a charade and that no one is actually perfect. Despite not knowing what he was going to do, you were up for the challenge. That core part of you didn't take long to succumb to his immoral impulses.

What was the problem as long as you were both happy?

“Heeseung,” you say as he draws you closer to him and unclasps your bra with his free hand. As you slowly rise to assist him, you toss the material to the ground and reach for his sweatpants.

“Someone a little needy, but we are not doing that today. Today is all about pampering my lovely angel. Is it all right?”

Nodding your head, you keep an eye on him as he goes between your legs, halting at the bottom as he eyes your breast and grasps softly as your body adjusts.

“Hurry up,” you grumble as you stare at his sinister grin. As you moan, he places gentle lips along your folds, leaning down to your core. As you twitch under his touch, his finger makes a fast dive between your folds, inciting dampness.

As you whine from the pressure, your eyes flutter shut as he switches his finger out with his tongue, softly licking up your surface.

“mm, close,” you exclaim, your lips wide open as he notices your clit, tongue flicking lustfully against it. As he presses harder on your sensitive region, he laughs as you break apart under his power.

“Oh God, right there.”

“Please don't involve Him in this.” He hits a place as your high comes crashing down on you, chuckling at your reaction. Heeseung is holding you down and watching you quiver wildly as you release juice, which causes him to swallow it before wiping his mouth. As you fall onto his body, overwhelmed and still sensitive to the sensation, he pulls you up.

He lays your exhausted body next to his and wipes any excess arousal from his mouth before kissing your lips.

You both lay in a comfortable stillness for the remainder of the night, your breathing slowly returning to normal as you sign into his arms.

“Perhaps you're right; we're all just horny, messed-up creatures; I mean, even though what we're doing is completely wrong, it was fun to break the rules. My entire life has been focused on doing the right thing and being this upstanding angel. It's fun to deviate from the norm.” As Heeseung witnessed you erupt in rage, you became agitated.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, also I told you.” You both chuckled as you pushed him to the side before coming to a halt in the middle of your conversation, looking concerned at him.

“However, I leave tomorrow and I don't think I'll be ready to see you off, and this was not in my plan.”

“Shhh, I figured it out; just stick to my plan and we'll both come out on top.”

You sat closer to him, nodding your head and clasping your hand in his as you allowed sleep to take over your body.

As you may know, angels and humans have quite distinct punishments; some humans are never punished for their wrongdoings, whereas angels' actions are usually discovered one way or another.

And you were terrified that they would find out. The person who fell from the edge was not the same person who was returning back and everyone was going to know it. Just not right now, you had to maintain your composure as you approached your overseer.

As you were greeted with the overseer and some guards, you held Heeseung by his chains and whispered something into his ear.

“I see you were having a good time?” You shook your head and looked down, worried. You looked up at her with sad eyes.

“Yes, High Lord, I am aware of my error and what needs to be done in order to be purified once more. I accept complete responsibility for this assignment, but I crack him first, and we have all the secrets we need.”

As he observed you return to the opposite side with the overseer, Heeseung's gaze shifted up in fright. Fearing for his life, he flailed his wings in an attempt to flee.

“What the hell, Y/N, I thought we were on the same team.” How could you betray me in such a way?” You walked over to his trembling body and pushed him down so you were above him, laughing loudly. You patted his shoulder as you cackled.

“And they said angels could be trustworthy. I know what I'm worth, and it has nothing to do with you. Heseeung, please accept my apologies. Get him out of here.” The guards grabbed his chains and dragged him to a chamber across the room from you.

As she began to compliment you on your efforts, the supervisor wrapped her arm around your shoulder.

“I'm proud of you, Y/N, even though you used some terrible techniques. I knew you'd be able to pull it off.”

You grinned joyously and thanked her for her faith in you as you looked up at her face. You cast another peek at Heeseung as she stepped forward, and he winked at you. Smirking before he disappeared into the room you chuckled at his behavior.

Everything was going swimmingly, and no one had a clue. I suppose taking over Heaven would be a simple task; if you can blow up the inside, everything will fall apart on its own.

"How could you hide this from all of us?" "Oh God, you underestimated me."

The Beauty of Sin.

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

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autumn leaves | l.i.b. finale

→ summary: and in the end, we fall because we have no other choice. some get up easier than others, and we bury the ones who never do.

→ pairing: ??? x reader → genre: angst, humor, fluff, lib!au → warnings: tae gets hurt a little but its an accident (he’s fine dw), small blood mention (from aforementioned accident), rage moments (rip lol), heartbreak (yum!), a happy ending (?) → words: 7.7K → a/n: oh my god we’re at the end?? after two months of SUFFERING?? how can this be happening?? lol but seriously thank you to everyone for going on this journey with me. writing lib was honestly so much fun, and it’s been a while since i’ve been able to kinda go “all-out” or whatever. i’m kind of nervous with this ending, but hopefully it’s something everyone will be able to enjoy. peace!!

prev // part 38 of 38 masterlist here. [series completed]

October 1, 2020 — 6:18 PM

Min Yoongi’s phone feels like it's burning a hole into his back pocket. It’s a heavy presence, weighing like concrete enough to bend his spine. His hands itch to reach for it, to check for messages he knows he won’t receive. But in the back of his mind, he thinks—desperately and senselessly, that if he wishes hard enough, then maybe it’ll come true.

I should be glad that she isn’t calling me, he tries to convince himself. The itch continues to grow, licking at the back of his mind like a fire begging to be extinguished. I should trust her decision. I should be proud of her. But there’s always been a difference, after all, to what Yoongi should do and what he wants. It’s a difference that he has fought to ignore for years now.

“Hyung,” a soft voice calls out to him, a hand placed gently on his shoulder. Yoongi blinks slowly out of his trance, his eyes dry from staring out his car window for too long. He doesn’t turn in his seat, refusing to face his companion in the backseat. “Hyung,” the voice calls out again, this time shaking him vigorously enough that Yoongi has no other choice but to turn lest his shoulders get dislocated.

“What do you want, Jimin?” Yoongi growls, sneering at the boy. Jimin smiles sheepishly, but he doesn’t back down under his glare.

“Sorry. You were gripping the wheel so tightly that I was scared you were going to break it.” Jimin shrugs nonchalantly, but there’s an edge to his tone, betraying his worry. Yoongi releases the wheel at once, switching to picking at the rips in his jeans instead.

“Didn’t notice. Sorry for snapping at you, I was just…” Yoongi trails off, expression glazing over once more. What was he trying? What was he doing here?

Jimin’s pupils flit all over Yoongi’s face, searching for something. “We’re not going to bring her home anymore?” he asks, but there’s a note of finality there. He knows that they aren’t going home with them tonight, at least not right now. They’ve been parked a block away from Namjoon’s childhood home for a few hours now, sitting in Yoongi’s car and waiting to see if you needed them to help you escape. Jimin has been watching Yoongi all the while, keeping track of the small changes in his friend’s expression.

They are hard to pinpoint sometimes, but Jimin sees them all. He sees the way Yoongi’s brow furrows slightly, sees the way his teeth nibble on his lips in worry, sees the way his head jerks every time he hears a sound, thinking that it might be his phone about to ring. Yoongi is like a pot about to boil over, hardly keeping everything together.

To many people, Yoongi often appears to be as unmoving as a rock. He hardly allows his emotions to control him, and he has always been proud to call himself a level-headed person. And for the most part, Jimin agrees with that. Yoongi is and always will be someone who thrives in times of turmoil, someone who relies on his wit to get him through adversity. He seldom gets angry, rarely raises his voice, never acts cruelly. He’s the person that everyone in their friend group often comes to for advice and support, as he’s always the one who seems to have the right thing to say.

But all those things begin to crumble, however, when it comes to you.

Yoongi is still human, too. He bends, he breaks, he yields—and he does so, especially for you.

“No, we’re not bringing her home,” Yoongi replies. The admission is there, hidden in plain sight. His words are laced with defeat, but it is a defeat that has been accepted long ago. Long before his text conversation with you.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Jimin asks, not unkindly. Even still, Yoongi winces. Jimin’s real question is there, hidden in plain sight as well. What are you waiting for?

Yoongi sighs, resting his forehead against the wheel. He hears Jimin shift in his seat, feels his presence get closer as he leans forward to place a comforting hand on his back. “Nothing,” he says. He breathes deeply through his nose and counts to three. Releases it. “We are waiting for nothing.”

Jimin hums and says nothing more. They sit there in silence for a bit longer, watching the sun’s final moments in the sky before the moon takes its place. The street lamps turn on, bathing the streets in its dusty yellow luminescence. Under the lights, Yoongi’s skin looks tired and worn, like a paper that has been crumpled and smoothed over multiple times.

“I wonder if they’ve finished speaking by now,” Yoongi says suddenly. He still hasn’t moved from his position, his face hidden from view. It almost looks like he hadn’t spoken at all, but Jimin had heard him. He looks at Yoongi in surprise but keeps his silence. Jimin can feel the beginnings of something about to break, and he is afraid that if he makes a sound, it might stop. Even stones break in the end.

“I doubt it. They have a lot of shit to talk about. Too much, in fact.” Yoongi sounds exhausted, his words slurring together like he’s falling asleep. But he’s never been more wide awake. “I’d have a lot to say if I were them. But I’m not them, nor will I ever be.”

Yoongi tilts his head high enough that he can rest his chin on the wheel instead. He stares blankly at the quiet street, listens intently to the sound of the wind beating gently against his car. Parked out there, in the middle of a small neighborhood in Ilsan, far away from the bustling streets of the city, he can almost trick himself into thinking that he’s the only person in the world—

“You love her.”

—but he isn’t alone.

Jimin says it without a shade of doubt. He says it like it's a simple truth of life, like there is no other possible way Yoongi could feel otherwise. The sky is blue. The earth is round. Min Yoongi is in love with you.

“Yes,” Yoongi breathes it out, the confession tumbling through his lips with quiet ease. It does not struggle; it does not resist. It just is. “I’ve loved her before I even knew it myself, I think.”

“I never thought you’d be the type to fall in love at first sight,” Jimin says it lightly, teasingly. There’s a shrivel of truth to it though, but Yoongi will deny it to his dying day; it’ll hurt less if he does.

“I think it started a year ago. When I was preparing for my junior year exhibition.” Yoongi remembers the long nights working until his hands bled, the recurring nightmares eating at his mind, the fear climbing his spine like a tightrope pulled taut. It’s one of the only times when he had bitten more than he could chew, piling impossible expectations onto himself. In those long three weeks of constant anxiety nipping at his heels, he had almost forgotten what it was like to be human. That is, until…

“She saved me. She taught me to slow down, to be compassionate to myself. She didn’t judge me or scold me or hurt me. She just… cared.” Yoongi exhales, clenching his eyes shut. He can see it in his head: your soft hands carding through his hair, whispering assurances and praise into his ears, guiding him to his bed and staying with him until he’d fallen asleep soundly for the first time in days. “Slowly but surely, I started to fall for her. There was just no other way. My heart refused to have it any other way,” he says.

Jimin hums. “I’d always guessed, but I never thought it was that early. You do have an awful habit of staring, hyung. Sometimes I feel like you have to remind yourself to blink.”

Yoongi laughs, hollow sounding. “I suppose I do.”

“Then why didn’t you do anything about it then?”

Jimin’s question is expected. It should be an easy one to answer, but Yoongi doesn’t quite know what to say. It’s easy to say that he knew Jungkook and you already loved each other long before he realized his feelings, and Yoongi was the last person on earth who would do anything to hurt either of you to fulfill his desires. It’s true, but it’s not the whole truth.

So instead, Yoongi responds, “It’s because I’m a hypocrite.” When he doesn’t elaborate, he sees Jimin give him a confused look from the rearview mirror.

Yoongi chuckles sardonically, shaking his head. His mouth feels like acid, as if bile had risen up his throat. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, but it would hurt more later if he didn’t suck the poison out right here and now. “Nevermind about that. The point is, I lost my chance and I don’t regret it. Yeah, it fucking hurts like a bitch, but what am I going to do? Cry about it? We’ve all known since the beginning that if anyone is going to get a happy ending, it’s certainly not going to be me.”

“Don’t say that,” Jimin says, frowning slightly. He had spoken so sternly that it impelled Yoongi to straighten up in his seat and turn to stare at him. It’s quite unlike Jimin to be anything but friendly and kind, so seeing him so severe is disconcerting. Though, it did manage to shut Yoongi up immediately.

“This is not the end of the world. You are not going to end up unloved or forgotten. There are people who love you, people who will love you. Don’t you remember? Those were the same words you told me when I got my heart broken the first time,” Jimin says, his voice trembling ever so slightly. Yoongi’s gaze flies to Jimin’s fists, clenched tightly by his sides.

Of course, Yoongi remembers. It’s hard to forget the sight of Park Jimin sobbing relentlessly into his shoulder, fat tears falling like raindrops and down his flushed cheeks. He remembers saying the same words to you, too. He wonders, not for the first time, if his words are as ineffective to you as they are to him right now.

“I know,” Yoongi says. He switches the engine on and watches his dashboard light up. The radio turns on, the last notes of a ballad playing through the speakers. Yoongi puts his hand on the wheel, carefully not to grip too tightly this time. It’s a start, he thinks.

They go home, leaving without looking back.

x x x x x

October 1, 2020 — 9:20 PM

Kim Taehyung locks his bedroom door the moment he gets home, after casting a furtive glance at the closed door across from his. He does not know what he expects; the door across from him has been closed for almost a week now. The entire apartment is still, but he is not alone. The ghost who lives in the other bedroom still haunts him, in more ways than one.

He drops his bag to the floor, still cradling a small bouquet of camellias that was slightly crushed when he had bumped into someone in the elevator. He unpeels the plastic wrapping, gently placing them into the vase near his windowsill. He fingers the vibrant pink petals, but they don’t brighten his room the way they once did. It still feels dark, but he has a sinking suspicion that he had nothing to do with his lights.

It’s me. I’ve changed.

He shakes his head, banishing the thought. No, it’s okay. Everything is fine. You’ve done nothing wrong. And yet, the door across the hall begs to differ.

Typically, this shouldn’t be a problem for him. When everything is said and done, Taehyung is used to this happening. The closed doors, the unopened texts, the cold shoulders. It’s all a process that Taehyung has lived through for years.

Guilt: an emotion that Taehyung has become accustomed to. Abandonment: an action that Taehyung has learned to anticipate. Isolation: a lifestyle that Taehyung has mastered. Every relationship with Kim Taehyung will always lead to these three things, so it shouldn’t be affecting him the way that it is.

But over the last three years, he’d grown comfortable. The people around him had convinced him unknowingly, planting seeds of hope and optimism in a garden he had thought to be infertile. For once in his life, Taehyung had found a home in these people, and he’d do anything in his power to keep it safe.

Or at least, he thought he did.

His original intentions had been guileless; he wanted to help Jungkook because he was his friend. Jungkook had been his first friend in university—if he wanted to be honest, then Taehyung would even say that Jungkook was his first friend in his entire life. The boy was kind-hearted and supportive, wrapped perfectly with a goofy personality. Of course, Taehyung wasn’t blind to Jungkook’s faults, but he was sure that Jungkook didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He had decided back then that he could trust this one, and once he had allowed Jungkook into his life, the rest followed suit.

It was easy to empathize with Jungkook because he was just so… awkward. It was like watching a newborn fawn learning to walk for the first time, except Jungkook had long since outgrown his baby status and should have been independent long ago. Taehyung and everyone knew this about him, but they still gave him the benefit of the doubt. They mentored him, guided him, manipulated him in the wrong ways in hopes of hastening him to change. That was until…

Everything fell apart. Taehyung understood long before the fall that he had played a considerable part in Jungkook’s ruin. His negligence, his willful involvement in worsening the situation had exacerbated everything. He had ignored the signs, had barrelled through with his plans without another thought, all because he allowed himself to be blind to what he truly wanted out of this mess.

If he genuinely wanted to be a friend to Jungkook, he would’ve stopped interfering way before you had gone to Ilsan that one fateful weekend in August. He’d been aware he was doing more harm than good to everyone around him, including himself.

No, he stopped wanting to help Jungkook a long time ago. It had turned into his own personal agenda.

“Fuck!” Taehyung screams into the night sky, slamming his hands against the wall. He grabs the nearby vase, smashing it against the floor and scattering water, petals, and glass across the floor. The impact causes a few shards to imbed themselves into his shin, but he does not mind them, for he does not feel them.

He breathes heavily, gritting his teeth in unspeakable rage. He’s angry, so furious. This red hot searing rage builds up in his body until he starts to feel dizzy, his vision blurred with tinges of black. Why is he mad? Who is he mad at?

Is he mad at Jungkook? Yes, but that isn’t new. He’s been angry at Jungkook for a while now. It frustrates him to no end how lucky Jungkook is without even knowing. How easily love comes to him, how pain and misfortune had never been in his vocabulary until just recently. Jungkook had you, Yoongi, and Jimin for longer than he has. Jungkook has been swaddled in affection since the start but has always been too stupid to see. If he had just stopped being so cowardly, he could have easily gotten the person he loves without anyone’s help.

If he just learned to ask, if he just learned to stop fucking locking his goddamn door—

Just like Taehyung.

They are two sides of the same coin, and it scares him.

This raw, unadulterated rage is not about Jungkook, but himself. It was always about him.

He lets out one last defiant shout at the frigid sky before dropping to his bed in defeat. The fury subsides as quickly as it comes, but it only leaves a desolate landscape inside of him.

He does not know for how long he lies there. When he stands, he leaves bloody footprints in his wake. “Appropriate,” he mutters to himself. He limps over to his door, hobbling to the adjacent bathroom to retrieve a first-aid kit. When he opens the door, Taehyung does not notice the small white box placed in front of his doorway. He nearly trips over it, saving himself by latching onto the wooden frame. He glances down, picking up the box gingerly when he sees a small sticky note tacked on top of it.

If you need help, just knock.

Taehyung looks across the hall. The door is still closed, but the person behind it is not.

His grip on the first-aid kit tightens. The first step is always the hardest.

x x x x x

October 1, 2020 — 1:03 PM

When you had run the moment you spotted Jungkook, Jung Hoseok had chosen to stay behind. He had pushed Jungkook to go after you, had yelled at him when Jungkook had hesitated for that one split second.

“Go!” he shouted, jolting Jungkook to his senses. He sprinted off, but not before giving Hoseok one last look back. Hoseok put on his bravest smile at him, throwing a thumbs up. “Don’t give up yet!”

Even now, ten minutes later, his throat still feels scratchy from how loud he had been.

He sits by the curb where he had parked his parents’ car. Namjoon sits beside him, a few inches apart. The autumn wind sends chills down his back, the afternoon sun doing its best to keep him warm. Though, he reckons that half the cold is because of the weather.

Hoseok clears his throat at the same moment Namjoon does. They share a glance, the beginnings of a smile playing on their lips. They look back to the ground, avoiding each other once more. Hoseok taps indiscernible beats with his feet while Namjoon draws shapes in the air with his fingers.

Hoseok tries again. “Umm. Namjoon,” he mumbles tentatively. He doesn’t know where to start.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, you know. I’ve known you since before you even learned how to walk.” Namjoon beats him to it, like always. “I can guess what you want to say.”

Hoseok hazards a glance at him. His friend is tanner than he remembers, the summer months having done well on his skin. He almost giggles when he notices the line where the edge of his shirt sleeve meets his bicep, the stark contrast of color evident whenever Namjoon moves his arm. It has been a while since he has seen Namjoon with a tan line, as Hoseok was usually there to remind him to put sunscreen on before leaving the house.

Usually.

Hoseok sobers up, the momentary amusement evaporating just like that. How is it that in only one month, so many things have changed between them?

“What do you think I want to say?” Hoseok responds. He tries to keep his voice level and cool, but he knows that Namjoon notices the small ways in which he falters. Namjoon knows how he rubs his neck when he’s nervous, how his ears get red when he’s embarrassed. He memorizes the exact time it takes for Hoseok’s mouth to downturn, forming into his signature pout.

He knows all these things and more. And yet, how could Namjoon possibly know the traitorous things that he has done?

“I think… you got sidetracked,” Namjoon says slowly, carefully. When Hoseok glances at him again, he finds that Namjoon is looking back. He has a contemplative expression on his face, his jaw clenched in the same way that it does when he’s solving a tough problem. “I think you wanted to help me get together with her, didn’t you? At least, in the beginning.”

“I still do,” Hoseok admits, breaking his gaze once more. He stares up ahead, where the park is bustling with children and their families. He watches a small boy swinging on a swing set, while another boy pushes him higher and higher. “Do you remember?”

“Remember what?”

“When you texted me while you were freaking out over how you were falling in love with her?”

Namjoon huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. Of course. How could I forget? I’m still freaking out about it now.”

“I was just… worried about you, you know? I’m always worried about you,” Hoseok says. The boy on the swing set is still going, but one extra strong push from his friend causes him to tumble, landing face-first into the ground. The nearby adults begin to panic, but the boy rises unsteadily, dirt caked onto his scratched up face. But when he faces his friend, he’s smiling and laughing like he has just won the lottery.

“Not an unfounded concern,” Namjoon chuckles, causing Hoseok to put on a small smile. His laughter dies as quickly as it comes. “Was that the time you decided to help me?”

“I’ve wanted to help you since the beginning, but that was the first time I actually did something about it.” Hoseok’s heart is beating a mile a minute, his palms sweaty despite the chilly weather. “I only wanted to find out if Jungkook really liked her or not. I wanted to know if you had a chance before you fell any deeper because I didn't want you to get hurt.”

When Namjoon doesn’t say anything, Hoseok continues. “Even when he admitted that he did love her, I could sense that there was a huge chance things weren’t going to work between them as long as if some things were just… pushed in the right direction.” His voice grows smaller the more and more he speaks, the guilt feeling heavy against his windpipe. But Hoseok is determined to tell him, no matter what happens. It’s the least that Namjoon deserves.

“I suppose, in this case, it would be the wrong direction,” Namjoon hums, but he doesn’t appear angry or upset. Not yet, at least. From the corner of Hoseok’s eye, he sees him nod for him to go on.

“Yeah. I could tell he was insecure, and that insecurity was prone to growing into jealousy,” Hoseok runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots just to give his hands something to do other than to quiver. “I noticed that he shuts down whenever he’s cornered, so that’s what I did. I kept pushing him, forcing him to admit his wrongdoings but never berating him for them. So, in turn, he began relying on me for comfort instead of his friends.”

He keeps going, “I didn’t feel bad for it at first. I kept telling myself, ‘It’s all for Namjoon in the long run.’ But it didn’t take long for me to realize that I couldn’t keep helping you without hurting Jungkook in the process. I was manipulating this poor boy, and I didn’t even know it until it was too late.”

Hoseok waits for Namjoon to react. He can’t bear to look at him, far too ashamed even to consider turning. He’s sure he’ll find disgust in his kind friend’s eyes, and he isn’t sure if he’d be able to stop himself from running if he saw it. But Namjoon refuses to speak, probably not until Hoseok finishes his piece.

“Jungkook didn’t deserve what I did to him. All the things he did is nothing in comparison to the punishment I inflicted on him, especially when it was never my place to do so. I fed the monster inside of him when he was nothing but a boy who was just scared. Then, just when he still had a shot at redemption, when she was still willing to listen to him, it was also me who ruined everything. I told her about all the bad things he had done. I told her about—”

“The thing about Jungkook paying to spread that rumor,” Namjoon speaks so suddenly that Hoseok nearly chokes in surprise. He had been so quiet that he scarcely even seemed to breathe. “You told her about it, didn’t you?”

“I… Yes, I did. She told you about it?”

“Yeah. She never informed me who told her, but I suppose it makes sense. But there was something else you said, wasn’t there? Something even she wouldn’t tell me.”

Hoseok nods his head sadly. “Yes. I think she was probably more hurt to find out that Jungkook had been ignoring her in favor of hanging out with me. Indirectly, I fed into her jealousy, but instead of comforting her, I intensified her guilt.”

Beside him, Namjoon releases a shaky breath. “You brought me up.”

“Yes.” There’s no use denying it; after all, Hoseok has always been a terrible liar.

“Did you tell her..?” The question hangs heavily in the air, but Namjoon doesn’t have to finish it for Hoseok to understand.

“No, I didn’t tell her you love her. I just mentioned how she was hurting you by loving Jungkook. That’s all. I don’t think she even had the chance to understand what I meant.”

There’s a moment of silence. The two boys sit side by side, looking to all the world like friends just enjoying an autumn afternoon together. The sounds of children singing, of parents chatting, of lovers laughing try their best to fill the space, but the gap is already too big to mend. At least, not immediately.

“Okay.”

Hoseok startles once more, this time managing to gather enough courage to take a peek at Namjoon. He keeps his eyes low, staring at the mole on his chin. “Okay?” he repeats.

Namjoon shrugs half-heartedly. “It’s done. All we can do now is wait, I guess.”

“But… you’re not..?”

“Mad at you? No, I’m not. Am I hurt? Incredibly so.” Namjoon swallows thickly, his chin wobbling as he finds the strength to keep his tears at bay. “But I can tell you found your way back to the light, and I’m more relieved that you realized your mistake more than anything. I forgive you, but just know that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”

“That’s already more than I deserve, Joon,” he says shakily. He feels a hand snake around his own, and he looks down to find their fingers laced together. On Namjoon’s wrist, the bracelet he had made for him in the 7th grade is frayed and mangled, but still ever-present. “But… what now? If they truly end up fixing everything, will you be okay with it? If Jungkook is still fighting for her… why aren’t you?”

“Same goes for you, I suppose,” Namjoon says simply. He doesn’t explain what he means by that, but Hoseok is honestly too afraid to ask. He’s always felt like Namjoon knew a little bit too much about things that he shouldn’t. He smiles, but there is a tinge of melancholy there.

Just out of reach, the way Namjoon has always seemed to be.

x x x x x

October 1, 2020 — 5:12 PM

At first, Jeon Jungkook is surprised to find the park more empty than when he was here a few hours ago. He supposes it is only to be expected, as dinner time is fast approaching and all the families have returned to their homes, preparing for the festivities. In another life, he might have been one of those families, sitting around a table with his brother and parents and eating to his heart’s content. Perhaps he might’ve asked you to join him, just like you had in the past.

He finds you seated on one of the benches near the entrance, kicking away fallen leaves absentmindedly. He takes this moment to observe you from afar, his breath getting caught in his throat when he realizes how long it has been since he last saw you.

His heart aches, the constant heaviness that has made a home in his chest growing tenfold. There are no words to explain the plethora of emotions flying through his head, but all he knows is that at the root of it all, he simply just misses you.

You hear him approach him before you see him. When he looks at you, Jungkook doesn’t know how you’re feeling. He used to be so good at anticipating your mood, always the first one to sense when you were upset or annoyed. Now, you just looked… blank, and for some reason, that hurts to see more than if you had been angry.

Jungkook stops right in front of you, his black boots crunching on dead leaves. You motion for him to take a seat beside you, patting the bench lightly.

“Hi. It’s been a while,” you say softly. You aren’t looking at him, and your hair obstructs him from viewing your face.

“Hello,” he replies, feeling dumb. He can’t think of anything better to say, all the things he had prepared in his mind suddenly blown away with the wind. The sight of you alone makes his mouth go dry, his hands to grow cold and clammy. He realizes, not for the first time, how terribly out of his depth he is.

“This has certainly been a long time coming, hasn’t it?”

“It has been,” he agrees. “It’s almost laughable how long it’s taken us to get to this moment.”

You bark out a laugh, the hoarse sound ringing in the air. “Laughable is certainly one way to put it, I guess.”

“Then why did you ignore me for so long? Why did you suddenly shut me out when you told me you wanted to talk? What happened?” He speaks without meaning to, the words flying out of his mouth before he can think of stopping. If his sudden inquiry startles you, you don’t show it.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You shrug, pushing back some of your hair behind your ear. He can see the slope of your nose, the outline of your lips, the shape of your eyes. He memorizes all these things about you, sees you in his dreams and nightmares, but nothing can ever beat real life.

“I’m sorry.” It’s a start: two words heavy with meaning. What does he apologize for first? The rumors? The jealousy? The betrayal? It wouldn’t matter which one he chooses to tackle first because he already knows sorry isn’t going to cut it, but he has to try at least. This isn’t really about him anymore or about asking for forgiveness. You deserve to know everything he’s done—if you wanted to know, that is.

You blink rapidly, but your eyes are dry. “I know.”

“You don’t have to forgive me.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to trust me.”

“I don’t,” you say, and it hurts the both of you when you do. Jungkook feels his insides clench, feels his heart collapse in his chest. “I don’t trust you, Jungkook,” you repeat.

“I…” Jungkook has to take a few shuddering breaths, his vision going blurry as he tries to keep it together. He waits for the pain to ebb, but it flows like a river down his veins. “I hurt you a lot. It’s only right that you don’t trust me.”

“I have a lot of regrets,” you say, sniffling. You still aren’t crying, but your nose is red from the cold. He wonders how long you had sat here waiting for him to arrive. How long have you been waiting for him in general?

“I have a lot of those, too,” he says. “I regret being unfair to you. For keeping people away from getting close to you, like a property meant to be hidden away. I tried to steal you for myself, but that’s not a very good thought, is it? I shouldn’t have thought that you were a thing to be kept. You should have been someone I treasured.”

“Then why didn’t you treasure me?” The question echoes loudly in Jungkook’s ears, as it’s the very same question that has weighed in his mind the moment he started to wonder where he’d gone wrong. Why hadn’t he loved you the way that he should have?

“Because I abused your love for me, even when I wasn’t aware of it,” he says plainly. He has known the answer for a while now but refused to accept it until this moment. It feels like a cork inside of him has burst, releasing all the foul, wretched things inside of him and out into the open. And once they start tumbling out, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop.

“I think we both knew we loved each other for as long as we can remember. We skirted around each other because we were scared of change, of losing the friendship we had built over the years. We purposefully ignored each other’s feelings and brushed off our friends’ attempts to help us realize something we already knew.”

“We did,” you say. “That was both our faults.”

“But I was never good at bottling up my feelings. It was only a matter of time before the love I had for you began to grow claws and fangs, and somehow along the way,” he pauses, a breath of sorrowful laughter escaping him, “I had gotten lost.”

Your expression morphs then, shifting from pain, to grief, to acceptance. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Your eyes look glazed over, like your mind is somewhere else. When you come back down, you already have another question for him. “Why didn’t you ever ask me out?”

He should just say something else, but he can’t help but wonder—”Why didn’t you?”

“I tried—a couple of times. You never noticed they were dates,” you shrug. A leaf from one of the nearby trees gets caught in your hair, and Jungkook reflexively plucks it out. You both freeze when his fingers graze your nape, gazes locking with one another. He jerks his hand back, but doesn’t look away—doesn’t dare to.

(It might be his last chance.)

“I’m sorry for being dense. For resorting to buying rumors so that I could pretend to date you when I could have asked for the real thing. I’m sorry for setting you up with… Namjoon,” he hesitates on his name, and you notice. “It must have confused you greatly, only worsening the doubt you must’ve had for me.”

“It did.” The corners of your eyes look wetter than before, tears dangerously close to the surface. “When I asked you if I should go to Ilsan the first time... You told me to go, even though everyone told me you were jealous of Namjoon. I was starting to believe them, hoping that maybe it was a sign that everything before then had just been a misunderstanding. But that was all you, wasn’t it? Why didn’t you tell me to stay?”

“It was a mistake,” he mutters. He shakes his head at the memory: a frequent recurring nightmare of his as he is forced to remember the moment everything had started to go downhill. “I had realized I was being a jealous asshole far too late, and I was trying to clear my own conscience. I thought that… if I let you go, then you’d think better of me. That I might be absolved of my sins if I took your trip as my penance. I didn’t think you were trying to see if I would stop you,” he explains, but it sounds like an excuse even to his ears.

You sit together, watching the sun begin to set, bathing the world in its orange hues. Jungkook feels empty, wrung out like a towel left to dry. The wounds inside him ache and throb, but he knows they won’t last. As surely as the sun will rise, he will also relearn to feel whole again—even if it means you won’t be there to see it.

“I waited for so long, Koo.” You shake your head, allowing a few traitorous tears to fall. You let out a watery laugh. “ I waited for this moment for so long, but I never imagined it would be like this.”

Jungkook studies his hands. He desperately wants to hold you one more time, but the ship has already sailed. “We’ve already sailed past each other a long time ago.”

You nod your head sadly. “We have.”

“Is it bad that I wish that we hadn’t?” he whispers, but he doesn’t really expect a response from you. He rubs his face, covertly trying to wipe his tears away. “I guess there’s a reason why you called me number two, huh?”

You can’t even force out a laugh. You sob unabashedly, cupping your face in your hands. This is the end.

This is the end of a great long adventure between you and him—the time for your roads to diverge closes in, like a shadow looming over their heads.

Jungkook wraps you in an embrace for the last time. You shake like a leaf in his arms, clutching at his chest like you don’t want to let go. He drinks you in, tries to commit everything about you to his memory. “Thank you for loving me, even if it didn’t work out. Thank you for being my first love.”

x x x x x

October 1, 2020 — 7:07 PM

Kim Namjoon opens the door to his childhood home the moment he hears footsteps climbing up the stairs. He’d done so numerous times already, spooking one or two of his neighbors at his sudden appearance. This time, however, he finds the person he had been waiting for.

“Oh, Y/N. Thank god,” he sighs in relief when he sees you, rushing out the door just as you finish taking the last stairstep. You wobble in surprise when you notice him, nearly falling over with a scream before he catches you by the waist to keep you steady. He pulls you close, pressing your face gently into his chest.

“I’m so sorry for everything. I’m so sorry for bringing you to Ilsan even though Yoongi told us not to go. I’m sorry for not telling you that I knew Jungkook and Hoseok were coming here, too. I’m so sorry for—”

“Namjoon,” you try to interrupt him, but he keeps going.

“—wanting you and Jungkook to reconcile even if you didn’t want you to leave me. You just looked so sad all the time, and I knew you needed to speak to him at least one more time so that you could find closure, but I should have asked you first like a decent person—”

“Namjoon,” you repeat. Namjoon pauses long enough to see that our eyes are red-rimmed from crying, further increasing the panic rising in his body.

“Oh god, I didn’t want you to be sadder! I just… God! I just wanted to help you for once, because you always helped me with everything. I know you deserve to make your own decisions, to be your own person, but I ignored that in favor of following my stupid gut—”

“Joonie, the neighbors can hear you,” you hiss, furtively glancing at the doors opening around them. You can feel many eyes on you, watching curiously at the red-faced idiot babbling like a man possessed. You motion for him to stop, but he’s too caught up in the moment.

“For a while, I thought I could stop myself from falling in love with you, but it was so hard! You have to understand how impossible it is not to love you. Believe me, I tried!” Namjoon all but shouts the last part out, shaking you by the shoulders. “I don’t deserve you! I’m just not a good boyfriend! I’m insecure to a fault, I’m boring, I have mild sleep apnea, I forget to throw out the empty milk cartons—”

You yelp as he continues to shake you, gently having to pry his hands off of you to save yourself from being shaken like a bobblehead. “Joonie,” you say, firmer this time.

He rambles and rambles and rambles. He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, hands gesticulating wildly like a human helicopter. He’s so wrapped up in his monologue that he doesn’t realize immediately when you take his hands in yours, forcing him to keep still.

“Joonie.”

“—and I’ve never been able to hold a relationship for longer than two months! My past girlfriend even left me after cheating on me the entire time—”

“Joonie.”

“I’ve never been good at being vulnerable and being myself, but you somehow managed to make me feel like I was worth something. You made me feel so so so incredibly loved. You made me feel important!”

“Kim Namjoon!” You shout, finally losing your temper and flicking him on the forehead. That finally manages to stop him, his eyes going cross-eyed like a cartoon character. You could almost see the flying stars orbiting his head. Properly silenced now, you push him back into his apartment, kicking the door with your foot before locking it for good measure.

When you turn back to face him, he’s still frozen where you left him. He stands in the middle of his living room like a robot, his mouth slightly agape as if his wires had been fried. Rolling your eyes goodnaturedly, you pull him to the couch, gently guiding him so that he doesn’t accidentally fall on his ass as he continues to short circuit in front of you. It takes him another whole minute to get his bearings together, but you’re a patient person. You sit in the adjacent armchair and wait for him to speak.

“Oh my god.” He swallows awkwardly, the color draining from his face. “What the hell did I do?”

“Welcome back to earth,” you smile, waving a hand in front of him. “Did you miss me?”

“I always miss you.” It seems as though Namjoon’s weird candor spell is still in effect. He has the presence of mind to be embarrassed this time, however, and you watch amusedly as his cheeks begin to redden. “I, umm…”

“Gave quite a show out there. I didn’t know you could rap,” you tease, your mouth curling up into a smile. The muscles in your cheeks feel sore, almost as if it has been ages since you last used them. This morning feels like it had happened eons ago.

“Sorry. I just… had a lot to say,” he replies lamely. He hangs his head, embarrassed to look you in the eye. “So… I’m guessing you spoke to Jungkook?”

He hears you hum in agreement, but you don’t say anything on the matter. Namjoon has never been one to pry, but his overactive brain can’t help but make connections out of nothing, trying to make sense of the world in desperation.

“I’m guessing you’re here to reject me, right? I’m sorry for confessing to you all of a sudden when you’re already spoken for. It was unfair of me, and you don’t need to try and spare my feelings at all. I’ve been prepared for this since August,” he speaks rapidly, nearly losing his breath in his haste. “It was my fault for thinking we could have happened. I mistook your kindness for reciprocation when I should have known better—”

“Joonie, my love. You’re rambling again.” Your voice snaps him back to reality. He turns redder somehow, sinking deep into his seat.

“S-sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” you huff, pouting in annoyance, but Namjoon catches the fondness in your eyes. “You aren’t unfair at all.”

“E-even so,” he stutters, heart hammering in his chest. “I shouldn’t have expected anything to happen between us. We were only going to fake date until the end of Chuseok, so it was foolish of me to try and… replace Jungkook, somehow. But I suppose, in the grand scheme of things… he’s a tough act to follow up to, huh? Seven years of loving someone is a long time. I don’t hold a candle to that,” he says dejectedly.

“But you do.” The words slip out before you can stop them. Your eyes widen, shocked by your own admission. Even so, you know what you said is true, and you wouldn’t take it back even if you could.

For a moment, you think he doesn’t hear it when he doesn’t react. It takes a second for his brain to buffer, but Namjoon had heard you, loud and clear.

“What do you mean?” His tone is soft, hesitant. Afraid, but hopeful.

You shrug your shoulders. You want to tell him everything, but you are impossibly tired, your eyelids like sandbags just waiting to fall. Namjoon must have noticed because he stumbles out of his seat with his arms outstretched, ready to keep you from slumping over.

“Woah, there. I’m sorry for interrogating when you must be exhausted. Do you want to take my bed instead of the couch tonight?” he asks, kneeling in front of you.

You blink sleepily at him, nodding with a large yawn. “I wanna talk to you but I’m tired,” you say, before promptly toppling onto him. He doesn’t flinch at your weight, catching you in an instant. He lets you nestle your face into his neck, and he grabs your arms until they’re laced around his shoulders. Slowly, he gets up with you in his arms, a feeling of weightlessness filling your senses. Safe.

When he tucks you into his bed, the sheets smell familiar and homey. Namjoon sits by the edge, brushing a few strands of hair away from your forehead. “Namjoon?” Your voice sounds muted to your own ears, as if you were underwater. But you don’t feel like you’re drowning, not at all.

“Yes?” He watches you with kind eyes, the same ones he has always had. To you, he looks like a prayer come to life, a promise ready to be fulfilled.

“You’ll be here? When I wake up?”

Namjoon exhales out a laugh, smiling sweetly. I love your dimples, you want to say, but your body feels heavy. Tomorrow. You’ll tell him for sure.

“Yes, Y/N. I’ll always be here. For as long as you want.”

You close your eyes. Tomorrow.

It’s a promise.

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belleta · 3 years

Text

The Forest - Part One

Consists: Supernatural, SKZ as different SN creatures, adventure, romance, drama, action, ......still trying to figure out all the details....lol XD

"Come on Y/N!", I was racing around the house. Trying to make sure I had everything for this trip. "Omg Y/N, let's GO~!" I swear to the universe she's going to thank me later. " I'm coming child!" I screamed back. Alrighty I just need my retainer. I bounded up the stairs and glided down the hallway with my cotton socks. Bursting into my room, I quickly scanned it for the sparkly emerald case. I caught sight of it out of the corner of my eye, "Boom!" I ran forward and snatched it off my windowsill. While leaping for my door, I paused and turned back to what I call my sanctuary. Call me paranoid but I'm kinda afraid of camping in the middle of the woods. Ever since I watched "The Blair Witch Project", I've been creeped.

It doesn't help that Jazzy forced us to watch the film, previous to this morning. I was drifting in the fairy floss clouds of my mind when a loud honk poured water on them. I sucked in a breath, blowing raspberries. Padding back over to my bedside, I grabbed my Ice Bear plushie. Giving it a quick squeeze and finally deciding that he's coming with me. Galloping back through the house, I made it out, locked the door and hopped in the back seat like a spring rabbit. "What took you so long?" I gazed up through my fringe at my girl bestie Jazmine. She had long beautiful honey blonde hair, and a mousy nose. Her blue eyes were alike with pebbles under a lake, with cheeks connected by a dash of light freckles. "I swear I just aged waiting for you" and Danny, our guy bestie. I've been best friends with Danny, since 3rd grade. Jazzy moved over during the 5th grade. All three of us have been with each other through thick and thin. Daniel was Hawaiian Japanese descent, had perfect colorful nails and absolutely gorgeous eye makeup. We were all dressed in casual, comfy clothes for the trip. Jazmine, or Jazzy as people call her, as the oldest. She was driving Danny's dad's truck. It was spacious and definitely was fit for the environment. Danny, second eldest was in shotgun and I, being the "baby", was in the back. "I was just making sure I have everything." The two rolled their eyes. Danny looked back at me "Girl, you need to chill. We've got everything and more" the boy stated. "I know, I know.....I'm just paranoid, you know.....being in the woods for a week" I looked down at my feet and played with my fingers to cover my embarressedness. "Awww, is the baby scared", Jazzy giggled, imitating a child. I swatted at her, "Let's just...finally go" I grumbled, reaching inside my bag to pull out my headphones. "Fine" they answered teasingly. While Jazzy was pulling out, I fastened myself and slid my headphones on. Bluetoothing them and unlocking my phone, I scrolled through my YouTube Music playlist finding the one named 'Bell Mix'. After that, I went back to the truffula trees and fairy floss. Just listening to my music and thinking about things. There were a couple times, where I thought I might get sick, but I had remembered my motion sickness bracelets. In your face! It's better to set out a little later, rather than having our vehicle reeking of my insides. 2 or 3 hours went by, or something. I'm not really sure, my brain doesn't really have a sense of time when I'm inside of it. We stopped to use the bathroom, get food and fuel at a gas station, maybe 2 hours away from the forest. "Can I, can I, can I, can I PLEASE?!?" I had been begging Jazzy to let me buy a bag of Haribo for 10 minutes now, and she was starting to break. I'm very persuasive as you find out, and I happen to be a very prominent weakness to many throughout my life. She finally gave in and I bounced away to the candy isle with glee and happily picked out a bag, promising to share. Jazzy just rolled her eyes and paid for our things. We trotted back to the car and continued our journey. It was nearing the end of 2pm when we finally arrived at the edge of the forest. It's lushes were absolutely perfectly splendid. The road continued for a hot minute, until it gave away to dirt and rocks. We didn't want to stray too far from the dirt road, so we slowly kept moving in until I suddenly exclaimed at the sight of a pretty little clearing. It had a few little bushes marking the edges, thick but soft looking grass, and a little dirt patch at one side that should be perfect for a firepit. We pulled over to take a look around, flattening a few bushes in the process. As soon as the truck came to a stop I shoved the door open and sprung down onto the flourishing forest floor. The first thing I did was take a deep breath to soak in the sweet scent of the untouched earth. I reached up, stretching and cracking a few of my bones in the process. Then I raced through the trees and undergrowth, toward the beautiful glade. It felt so nice to get away from civilization, I had always loved

getting away like this. Being able to recharge away from annoying people and sounds, my fears of the night were long forgotten. I was two steps away from the grass when I suddenly tripped over something. Tumbling forward and scratching my cheek. I landed on my face, but on the bright side it was luckily with no rocks around. The dirt however spared me at nothing, crawling into my fresh scrapes, was a sharp and quick stinging as I grabbed my face. "Seriously Y/N, we haven't even completely left the car yet and you've already managed to hurt yourself" Jazzy declared. Danny chimed in, "Did you hurt yourself at all?". Quickly inspecting myself, I responded "Yes, a tiny bit on my cheek, hands and knees", I could hear them muttering to themselves about how reckless I was sometimes. They started toward me and as I waited for them to catch up, I decided to look around and figure out where to put things for these next few days. While ogling the decently wide stretch that was conveniently shielded by a mighty sugar maple. I thought I saw something in the undergrowth a few meters away from me. I grabbed my glasses and narrowed my eyes, but right when I thought I saw whatever it was, two flashes shot in the opposite direction between the ferns and disappeared. They were kinda hidden but I could sorta make out one of the shapes was darker and slightly bigger. The other was a little bit easier but still was difficult, it was kinda brown, or maybe reddish? At that moment I felt two hands on my shoulders, "Let me see", it was Jazzy. She inspected my injury. "It'll be fine, just wash it off", "Okie-Dokie-Artichokie", she laughed and ruffled my hair. I gazed back at where I saw the two shapes but not even the bushes were still moving. "Hey!" I cocked my head back to the voice "Can you help me?" Danny was struggling to unpack from the back. "Sure thing Danny-O" I quickly stood up, maybe a little too quick. My vision went funny and I almost stumbled. "Oh my god Y/N! Be careful!" Jazzy scolded, "My bad!" I was a little all over the place at the moment. Finally we were on this trip! I mean, I waited 6 months for this and it's finally here! I'm not all childish, I'm actually very 4D. I'm just really excited okay? I more carefully walked back to the truck, where Danny was struggling to keep ahold of what appeared to be the tent. Over the course of the next hour and a half we set up everything. Goofing around and laughing. Danny had been pulling too hard on our sleeping bags, to wedge them out of the trunk. And had accidentally fallen onto the slightly wet dirt, causing a very prominent brown streak across his gray sweatpants and sky blue tie dye hoodie. I was currently on my way to find the stream that is supposably close by, with a screenshot of google maps and a compass. Service wasn't exactly a 5 star out here, but I didn't mind too much. I brought a portable WiFi router with me, so if Jason Vorhees just decided to pull one, we could call for help. Every so often I would hang a wooden heart ornament on one of the tree's branches, so if this was the correct way then we would never get lost. Also so that I didn't get lost right now. I had been making these last night, for these exact reasons. I swear only dumb people don't mark their surroundings, this is one of the main reasons why people disappear and are never found or get lost. There are no traces of where they've been, like these fruit loops really-...... After about another 20 meters I started hearing the sounds of water. It became louder and louder really quickly. Is there a waterfall here? I pondered, while quickening my pace with curiosity. 35 seconds later I came across a thinning in the trees and beyond a clear water stream. I finally broke out of the shelter provided from the thick leaves, the sun kissed my skin with it's warm touch. I looked around and sure enough, there was a small waterfall that looked straight out of a fairytale. It had multiple uneven levels, with smoothed boulders everywhere. And to top it all off, it had little water plants scattered around it. Absolutely

beautiful.... I scanned around and spotted a few giant boulders poking into the stream. I carefully picked my way over to them, clutching onto Danny's muddy clothes. Hopping onto the sunlight warmed stones, I positioned myself perfectly so that I could reach the water but wouldn't fall in. I reached into my pocket for my zip lock of natural soap, of course I didn't want to hurt this literally untouched land. I leaned down to dunk the fabric into the stream's crystal-like water and kneaded the brown smudge. It was decently cold, just perfect for a stream. I turned back to the small bag with a green bar wrapped with brown paper and a little herb decoration. I unzipped it and reached for a tiny hand towel I brought with me so that I would have a better grip on the soap, even if I got wet. After dunking the clothes in I took the bar of soap and swiped it all over. I dipped it into the water once to help the bubble come, then I started aggressively rubbing it. Once the outfit was foaming with suds, I slapped it into the brook. Holding onto the sleeve I rub it harshly all over to get the stains out. It was relatively still easy because the events of cause were only moments before. I was starting to disappear into my thoughts, getting deeper and deeper and deeper....... And just then a crash and from the trees, followed by snarls and barks. I was so lost in my thought that this jolted me into the canal. The water suddenly became ice cold, my scream had been washed away. A surge of water filled my lungs from the way my mouth was open to yelp. I could still hear the sounds of fighting every so often, when I would surface. My head was hurting, my skin was stinging and my lungs were screaming. Someone.....please help..... It was hurting so much, I was trying not to panic. So I could find the surface and get back to shore. I would break through it's crisp arctic clutches every so often and would cry out for help but then get cut off by the now frosty darkness. I was giving up to the stream and submitting to the coldness. Letting it swallow me whole. I was numb, I couldn't feel my body being thrown around anymore, Is this how my story ends? No! I don't want to! I still have things to do! I need to graduate, and find my passion! I need to find a man who will love me as much as I do! I need to birth young and care for them! I want to grow old with my partner happily! I can't die yet! I just can't! But it was just so cold. I had stopped moving violently, so I guess I had been poured into a lake or something. I didn't care anymore. My blood felt frozen, I couldn't even bend a finger. That's when I felt a force near me, it parted the waters. Moving me in a different direction with its power. Then not long after I felt something grab hold of me in an awkward way. I was starting to be pulled into another direction, as the water streamed around, parting to let me and whatever that was saving me through. Then I broke through the surface and that was the last thing I felt before slipping into a comfy unconsciousness.

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dontcrywrite · 3 years

Text

find the word tag

thank you so much for tagging me @ashen-crest and @dontjudgemeimawriter!! <3 i'm gonna put this under a read more because it got a little long lol

Sweet -couldn't find

Sharp

Moss let out a wordless cry, whipping their violin case off their back and through the air. It connected with a sharp crack, forcing the man to stumble back as he clutched at his nose. Helen stepped forward, ready to jump in and lend Moss a hand, but they were already ahead of her. In one smooth motion, Moss brought the case up through the air and slammed it onto the man’s head. He crumpled to the ground, out like a light.

Helen gaped at Moss, who was preoccupied with opening their case and pulling out the violin inside. It was clearly battered - the neck was bent and there were a few small cracks in the body. It could be fixed, but they weren’t exactly anywhere near a town where it could get fixed up. “Your violin,” she said, wincing.

“It’s fine,” Moss said with a shrug. They plucked one of the strings; it let out a warbling, off-key note. “I always liked my flute better anyways.”

Salt(y) - couldn't find

Stick(y)

Helen gazed mournfully into her cup and thought to herself, this might as well happen.

Things had been going wrong ever since she started on her quest. Had she done something to piss Alea off? She’s never had a mission gone this badly before. It was like she’d been destined to fail.

Helen let her head drop down to rest on the bar in front of her. It was sticky, the residue from split drinks still wet and soaking into her hair, but Helen couldn’t find the energy to care. Maybe she had been destined to fail.

Ausburn couldn’t be working alone in the palace. Clearly something bigger was happening behind the scenes. It seemed too easy for Frisk to be framed - because he had been framed, that much Helen was sure off. Just how deep did this run?

Reason

“You can’t!” Sherridan shrieked. All composure he once had was gone, and all that was left behind was a furious, raving man. “Give me your power! I control you!”

“I’m afraid that is a rather outdated misconception,” Estrel said, always the voice of reason. “The staff doesn’t control our power. It merely channels it, whenever we freely choose to offer our services. I suppose that bit of information got lost in translation.”

Helen’s lips twitched upwards. This was the goddess Tabby was talking about, calmly spouting facts and figures with a smug look on her face.

Remove

Helen grinned and walked over, placing her foot on the man’s chest and pushing down just hard enough that he could feel the pressure. The crowd let out a cheer.

“Time,” the man grunted, hitting the ground with the palm of his hand. The motion sent a small puff of dirt flying into the air.

Helen removed her foot, nudging the man slightly in his side before moving back. “Good fight,” she said, grin etched firmly in place. Her hair, which she had previously tied up and out of the way, had fallen out of it’s bindings and was now sticking to the back of her neck. “Maybe next time you’ll beat me, Jonathan.”

Ready

“The kingdom is yours now,” Alea added, brandishing her hand in Levi’s direction. The crown, which had tumbled off Sherridan’s head when he fell, appeared in Levi’s hands with steady certainty.

Levi swallowed, gingerly holding the crown as if afraid it would break apart in his grasp. “I’m not ready to rule.”

The hard lines of Alea’s face softened. She walked over to where Helen and Levi knelt, only needing a few steps before she stood in front of him. With a gentleness Helen didn’t realize the goddess possessed, Alea lay her hand on Levi’s head. “You will be a fine ruler, little king.”

(B)risk (i couldn't find risk by itself, lol)

When Helen gets outside, she pauses on the top steps, determination wavering. She wants to see Cory, she does, and yet she couldn’t bear to see her if there was only bad news to follow. But - Emory wouldn’t have pointed her in this direction if the way only ended in tragedy, so Helen takes a steadying breath and walks briskly down the stairs.

There’s less people out here. Only a few groups are huddled in the courtyard, heads bowed together as they nervously glance around. For a moment, Helen can’t find Cory - or anyone, for that matter. Maybe they moved on, thinking they’d meet Helen somewhere else?

A spark of purple magic crackles in the sky at the edge of Helen’s vision. Her head snaps to it, watching as it falls back to the ground amongst a small group of people. Even from far away, Helen could see the glint of blonde hair in the sunlight that she knew so well.

tagging (with no pressure!): @drippingmoon @nikkywrites @charlesjosephwrites AND anyone else who wants to do this!! <3

your words are group, green, gloom and groan

#wip: akb #find the word tag #i think i've posted remove before #BUT i'm v proud of reason and ready #also sharp bc it has moss and i love them so much #featuring my inability to choose either past or present tense #tbh that's a problem for future me who is writing the second draft bjvsbvbhfv

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kimnjss · 4 years

Text

the hardest part | requested

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader ⇢ fic type: one shot ⇢ genre: angst ⇢ word count: 2.5K ⇢ theme: bestfriend!jungkook + friend zone ⇢ warnings: i don’t think there are any?? its kinda sad lol. ⇢ synopsis: for years, you have been in love with your best friend. you regretted not saying anything about it... and it only gets worse when his wedding is just around the corner. ⇢ A/N: hope you like this! wrote the entire thing listening to the the hardest part by roy kim, listen to it while reading it... it’s even sadder that way :(

It was so hard to see him with her. Happy with her. Jungkook and you have been best friends basically your whole lives. You met in first grade and ever since then your parents made sure that you had the same teacher, same classes, same lunches. They didn't want to separate you.

Even back than Jungkook was a bit of a hothead, snapping at any one who dared to cross him. You were way more calm and thoughtful, managing to put the fire out every time. You balanced each other out.

The closeness between you only grew as the years went on. You never spent more than a few days apart. When family trips came around it was always: 'Can Jungkook come too?' or 'Y/n's coming, right?'. You two were the definition of inseparable.

You fell in love with Jungkook your freshmen year of high school. He had taken you to winter formal after Yoongi Min dumped you with no explanation. Of course, you were surprised when Jungkook broke his date with Seulgi Kang to take you.

You danced the entire night and then he walked you home. You still remembered how often you thought about him in that suit that night. He looked so good all dressed up and matching you. When you got to my door, he smiled his brace-face smile at you, giving you a kiss on the cheek before telling you goodnight and walking off.

That's when he had you. You started to notice things about Jungkook that you're not supposed to notice about your best friend. The subtle dimples on his cheeks that appeared only when he smiled real wide. How he snorted quietly if he laughed too hard. That tiny vein that stuck out on his forehead whenever he was pissed. How he treated his baby sister like a little princess.

Each time noticing something new, you fell deeper in love with him – until it was too late. You were in too deep and you had no idea what to do.

It had been years since that first realization. Nine to be exact. You had kept your feelings a secret for nine whole years. Now he was engaged. To his soulmate as he liked to call her. You liked to stick to just referring to her as the 'stupid bitch that stole my best friend'.

Her name was Eunae. Eunae Choi. She looked like a freaking Victoria Secret model. Long pin straight jet black hair, porcelain smooth skin, high cheek bones and an amazing body. On top of that she was a genius. She was working on her Master's in Psychology.

It was no wonder he fell for her.

“Hand me the banana peppers,” Jungkook nodded his head towards the jar and you slowly reached for it. It had been a long while since we had a pizza-building-movie-bingeing-sleepover.

You figured it had been just as long as him and Eunae had been together. What was it? Two years, five months and thirteen days? Yeah, but who's counting?

“Can you believe I'm getting married in a week?” Jungkook spoke as he scattered the peppers around the pie.

“Hardly.” He only mentioned it every half hour.

“You got your best ladies' speech ready?” Having Jungkook ask you to be his best man but call it a best lady was the epitome of friend zone. You nearly cried yourself to sleep after that. Nodding your head, you plucked a pepper from the jar and shoving it into your mouth.

“Eunae sent you the dresses, right? She wanted you to wear a bridesmaid's dress even though you're not one of the bridesmaids, it would just make more sense.” Eunae had sent the picture to you and that entire sentence. You nodded once again.

You loved the dress. It was a dusty rose long halter neck dress. “I still can't fucking believe it,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as he pushed the pizza into the oven. He tapped a few things on the screen before coming to sit next to you.

“Have you found a plus one yet?” The two of them were threatening you with the single's table if you didn't find someone to bring to this wedding. The thing was, you didn't want a date. It would just be a waste of time to find one. It wasn't like you would even be interested.

You honestly hated yourself for not speaking up when you had the chance. You should've just sucked it up and admitted your feelings to him. Maybe he would've rejected you but you wouldn't be in this situation that you were in right now. Watching him get married to someone you knew he loves while you're sitting there in love with him. It was pathetic.

“No, I'm gonna go stag and I'm completely okay with it,” You put extra emphasis on the last bit hoping he'd get the hint.

“Alright, alright. Go pick the first movie, I'm going to give Eunae a quick call.” You almost rolled your eyes. Of course he'd find a way to bring her into your night. Plastering a smile on your face you headed into the living room, scrolling through the movies on Netflix before deciding on a comedy.

You waited for him with the bowl of popcorn in your lap. Jungkook didn't find his way back into the living room until twenty minutes had passed. He sat down beside you, stealing the popcorn off of your lap before shoveling a handful into his mouth.

“What did you pick?” He spoke through his mouthful.

“Sausage Party.” You laughed as Jungkook's eyes widened. “That movie is so bad!” He chuckled, leaning back against the cushions and turning his attention to the screen.

As the movie progressed, Jungkook had managed to pull you against him. Your pizza laid half eaten on the coffee table and the popcorn bowl empty. His arms were wrapped around your shoulders, the tips of his fingers tickling the skin on your bare arm.

Him doing things like this is what fucked you up in the first place. Shifting away from him, you tried to calm the racing of your heart. He gave you a weird look, confusion written all over his face.

“What's the matter?”

“Nothing,”

He looked as if he wanted to say something else but refrained from doing so. You watched the rest of the movie in silence.

All these thoughts were bubbling in your head. You wanted to tell him, you wanted him to know how you felt about him before he went and got married. You couldn't form a sentence for the life of you, though.

Would it be wrong? To tell him this ten days before his wedding? What if he changed his mind? What if he called the entire thing off? What if he changed his mind? What if he called the entire thing off?

You sighed, watching as he turned the couch into a makeshift bed, dusting the popcorn bits off and onto the floor. “You heading into your room?” When you were younger he use to sleep up in your room with you. Then puberty hit and morning wood became a thing. It was safer for everyone if you slept in separate areas.

“In a little bit,” You paused, eyeing him as he laid back on the cushions. “Why? Are you tried?” You questioned and he shook his head.

“Nope.” A smirk grew on his face. “Remember when I dared you to streak around the dorm?” Of course you remembered that shit. You tripped and fell into a pile of mud. Had dirt in your cooch for days.

“Yes, why?” You laid my body down beside his, staring up at the ceiling as he spoke.

“Jimin Park saw that. He thought you were hot and asked if you were single. You weren't at the time but now you are. Would you like me to give him a call? Maybe he could be your plus one?” He suggested and you scoffed.

“No thank you.” Jimin was the king of the douche bags. Fraternity president and ignorant as fuck. You wouldn't waste a second on him.

“I don't want you to have to go alone,”

“I am choosing to go alone, Koo. If I wanted a date, I would've gotten one.” It was lost on you why he was making out of you bringing a date. Him and his bride wouldn't leave you alone about it.

“Okay, fine.” He made it seem like he was letting it go, but he was far from letting anything go.

“You're gorgeous, you know that right, Y/N? Any guy would be lucky to have you if you just gave one a chance...” You glared at him, warning him to shut up about it. You were in no mood to hear this speech for the thousandth time.

“In all the years that I've known you, you've only ever had one real boyfriend and that was a few years ago.” He pointed out. “Guys approach you too, I've seen it. Why don't you give any of them a chance?”

You sighed, running my hands over your face. “I'm just not interested.” This had become a mantra of yours.

“Yeah, but why not?”

“They're not my type.”

“You have a type?” He sounded surprised, a chuckle dying on his lips.

“Yes, I have a type.” You were quickly growing annoyed with this conversation.

“No you don't.”

You scoffed. “Yes, I do.”

“What's your type then?”

“You.” The word left your mouth before you could pull it back. Jungkook was sitting up, staring down at you with wide eyes.

“What did you just say?” He sat there staring at you. Your heart was beating in your ears. Slowly, you were sitting yourself up. Preparing yourself for what was to come next, there was no backing out now. You needed to finish what you started.

“You. You're my type, Jungkook. I'm in love with you, I have always been,” You could feel your throat closing up. But you weren't able to stop the word vomit from tumbling from between your lips.

He sat there silent for a minute. You just dropped something huge and the impact was written all over his face. He opened his mouth as if he finally came up with an answer, did that twice before his face furrowed in confusion.

“You're in love with me?” He repeated, just to clarify. You nodded.

Jungkook just continued to stare at you. Forcing your eyes shut, you cleared your throat. You couldn't look at him. There it was right on his face, how much he didn't love you. Had you expected him to admit the same, call off the wedding so you could ride off into the sunset? Yeah, right.

Maybe.

You started to head towards the stairs, quickly coming to my senses. He was getting married! “Holy shit, forget I said anything... I-I...I don't know what I was thinking. I'm going to head up,” Avoiding his gaze you rushed towards the stairs and into your room, slamming the door shut.

Overwhelmed with humiliation and the sting of rejection, tears began to stream down your face which only intensified when you heard the front door slam.

Ten days had went by and you hadn't heard anything from Jungkook. A brief message from Eunae this morning was what confirmed that you were still invited to this stupid party. You got dressed in the bridesmaid's dress, did your own hair and makeup and showed up at the church minutes before the start.

Not wanting to leave any time to mingle.

It was unbelievably hard to stand there with a smile on your face as you watched them recite their vows, staring all lovingly in each others' eyes with these dopey smiles on their faces. 'I do's' were said and they were kissing.

Not the sloppy wolfish kiss that they often displayed in front of their friends, this one was elegant one that dragged an 'awe' from the lips of the crowd. You inwardly rolled your eyes.

Your speech was quick and extremely general. You avoided getting into too much detail and you didn't tell any stories. It was the type of speech you could copy and paste and recite at any wedding. You weren't up for anything else.

Nursing your third glass of Chardonnay, Jungkook approached you. “How you holding up?” You felt yourself swaying, but you were certain you were standing still.

“I'm fine,” Another mantra.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“I liked your speech,” He tried.

You laughed. “Okay,” Gulping down the rest of your drink, you set the empty glass down on the table. “I'm going to grab a cab. Great party,” You commented, shooting him a thumbs up before exiting the hall.

It was raining very hard. You were soaked the second you stepped outside. Not letting that slow you down, you made your way to the sidewalk, calling for a taxi. A hand on your shoulder stopped you from entering the first one that pulled up.

“Why are you pissed at me?” Jungkook stood, tux soaked and hair sticking to his face.

“I'm not,”

“Yes you are, Y/N. I know when you're pissed.” He spat. “Did you expect me to call off the wedding?”

“No,” Yes.

“I'm sorry. I hate that this hurts you but you got to understand how I feel about Eunae. She's it for me, you know? I wish that it didn't hurt you so bad,” He looked sincere, it honestly hurt him that he was hurting you.

Now you felt bad. “You deserve to be happy, Koo. You shouldn't have to apologize. It's just hard to see you with her... I'm just going to stay away for a little bit,” You actually planned to stay away for more than a little bit.

Yesterday morning you were getting a call about a job in Boston. It paid a lot more than the job that you had now and it was actually related to what I=you got a degree for in the first place.

“Okay,” He was so understanding. How can someone break your heart and make it swell all at the same time? “I love you, Y/N.” You nodded, knowing the exact way that he meant. You called for another cab, slipping in without him stopping you.

Telling the driver your address, I sat back against the seats. You forced yourself not to look back. He wasn't going to be standing there waving you off. This wasn't like a movie. He wasn't going to realize that he had been in love with you all along and you'd live happily ever after. Nope.

Jungkook was to go back inside, dry off and live his life with his perfect wife. You were to go to Boston, study the behavior of the animals and their environment and that was it. Maybe you'd cross paths in the future, but for now – that was it.

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sojourner-between-worlds · 3 years

Text

Weight of the World

Fandom: Alex Rider/ Hawaii Five-0

Summary: Healing is an upward battle; taking the first step is an act of bravery. OR Five times Alex didn’t want help but got it anyway plus the one time he did ask.

A/N: I have been working on this for, like, three months. I hope it reflects that, lol. Title(s) from Citizen Soldier’s Weight of the World. Set early in the series, beginning the end of January and running through the middle of March, during the first year Alex is living with Steve. Those content warnings below are not there for funnsies. Proceed with caution.

Series: Don’t You Worry, Child

Content Warnings: self-harm, panic attacks, depression, general self-depreciation

. . . .

i. sometimes it’s so hard to breathe

Alex stared blankly at the screen of his laptop, the letters of the text he was supposed to be reading blurring together. Some days he felt like he was living under water, and apparently today was one of them. Everything felt distorted and not quite real, like he was simply drifting along wherever the tides felt like taking him. He was more grateful than ever on days like today that Steve wasn’t forcing him to attend school in person so it wasn’t a big deal when he couldn’t seem to focus on anything.

The front door clicked open then closed again and Alex only half-registered the greeting that accompanied it. Steve appeared in the doorway a moment later, a frown creasing his brow as he glanced at the laptop on the dining table. “I’d ask how school is going, but I can see for myself. You haven’t made any progress?”

The words were spoken softly and the logical part of Alex’s brain knew Steve wasn’t upset with him. Regardless, anger flashed hot his chest and he slammed the screen down over the keyboard with far more force than necessary. “Obviously.”

Steve sighed. “Alex --.”

“Look, I don’t need a lecture,” he snapped, standing up with so much force he sent this chair topping over behind him.

Steve held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Hey, I’m not upset; I’m just trying to understand.”

“Well, you can’t, so stop trying. I couldn’t focus so I didn’t get anything done. That’s all there is to it.”

“Okay.” Steve’s voice was still soft, gentle. “That’s all you had to say, buddy. It’s alright.”

Alex knew his anger was irrational but he didn’t know where it had come from or even why it was there. He did know that it was making his chest tight and it was getting harder to breathe.

Oh. Oh no. Not now.

He needed to sit back down but his chair was on its side and he was frozen in place.

“Alex, are you okay?”

Crap. “‘m fine.” The words came out in a wheeze that he wasn’t even sure Steve heard.

“Clearly that’s a lie.” Oh. Steve had heard him. “Let me help you --.”

Nonononono. Before he knew what he was doing, Alex had reached out and pushed Steve away from him, stumbling back a couple of steps himself, only keeping from tumbling to the floor by catching the edge of the table with one hand. “Don’t!”

“Okay -- hey, it’s okay. I wasn’t going to touch you and I won’t if you don’t want me to, Alex.”

Oh. Alex tried to suck in a breath -- tried to stop this from getting any worse -- and choked on it instead. Still, he had done this a hundred times on his own; he didn’t need help.

“Tell me five things you know, Alex.”

“What?” he asked, brow creased in confusion.

“Trust me. Tell me five things you know -- doesn’t matter what they are, just any five things.”

Without thinking, he blurted out the most prominent thing on this mind: “I’m having a panic attack.”

A soft huff followed by, “Sure are, buddy. That’s one; four more.”

Four more things he knew; what else besides that? Now that he was aware of the problem, it was difficult to think of anything other than that he couldn’t breathe. “I’m...in Hawaii?” Lame; that was lame but it was all he could come up with.

Despite his answer, Steve’s voice was still steady, unmocking. “Yes, you are. Three more.”

His thoughts were scattered and it was difficult to pull anything out of the incomplete bits floating around. He would have to make do with the ones he could catch. “I’m way behind in school…”

“But you’re trying. Two more.”

“I love living here.”

“Glad to hear it. One more.”

“I’m terrified of having to leave.” What. No. Why would you say that --.

A soft sigh. “Not if I have anything to say about it. That’s five. Now, open your eyes and tell me four things you can see -- other than yourself and me.”

Open his eyes? ...Oh. Alex had no idea when he had closed them, but they definitely were. It took more effort than he thought it should to peel his eyelids back, but he finally managed after what felt like a very long time.

“There we go. Four things you can see, Alex.”

Glancing around, this was decidedly easier. “The chair, the table, my laptop -- uhm.” Maybe not. It was a simple request; why couldn’t he even do that much?

“It’s okay. Look a little farther away from you. One more thing.”

Swallowing around the tightness in his throat, he turned his head slightly and lifted his gaze. “The desk.”

“Good. Three things you can feel.”

The first one was easy. His left hand was still gripping the table from when he’d stumbled back. “The table.”

“Can you describe how it feels to me? It doesn’t have to be a lot.”

Alex brushed the pads of his fingers over the surface. “Smooth but you can still feel the grain.”

“Two more things you can feel.”

Alex sucked in a breath that still rattled in his lungs, still not enough air but at least it was something. “My sock is bunched up in my shoe. It’s uncomfortable.”

Steve snorted. “Then why haven’t you fixed it? Nevermind; don’t answer that. One more thing.”

“Uhm, my shirt? It’s one of the new ones so it’s still soft.”

“Good. Two things you can hear.”

He paused, forcing himself to listen for something outside of this own pounding heart and rasping breaths. “The clock in the kitchen...and the ocean.”

“And one thing you can smell.”

He took another breath -- through his nose this time -- and while his chest was still tight, he found that he could. “The stew in the oven.”

“It does smell good. Thanks for making it by the way.” A pause. “Feel better?”

“A little. Still hurts to breathe, but I’ll live. I’m sorry for snapping.”

“You were panicking. It’s okay. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

There was, but he didn’t want to admit it after what had happened. “A hug?” If he were honest, it would have helped sooner had he allowed it instead of having a visceral reaction to the idea of being touched. He wasn’t sure why he had reacted that way, but he could mull it over later.

“I think I can manage that. Come here.”

For once Alex didn’t hesitate to step around the table and accept the comfort he was being offered. He hadn’t realized just how much he needed this until Steve’s arms closed around him, one hand at the back of his head, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe again -- not because he was panicking; oh, no -- this time because he was crying. Much to his horror, he couldn’t stop.

The tears didn’t last long, but Alex was still beyond embarrassed. He was mortified and exhausted and wanted nothing more than to stay right where he was forever, but he knew he would have to move sooner rather than later.

Steve sighed above him. “I feel like there’s a whole lot going on here. You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Alex mumbled. How could he possibly talk about what was wrong when he didn’t know that himself?

“Figured as much, but that wasn’t really a request, buddy. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Can’t tell you what I don’t know either.”

“Okay. How about I make you some tea, you can relax for a bit, and we’ll try to figure this out together.”

Taking a deep breath, Alex pulled away and picked up the chair he had knocked over. “I think I’ll sit outside if that’s okay.”

“Of course. I’ll join you in a bit.” Steve turned for the kitchen but hesitated when Alex spoke again.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Are...are you mad?”

“No, I’m not mad. Why would I be?”

“I didn’t tell you that I’ve been having panic attacks still.”

Steve’s face softened. “Honestly I should have known because you did tell me once before. I should have been paying more attention and noticed you were struggling before now. So, for that, I’m sorry. I do wish you would have talked to me, but I understand why you didn’t. That level of trust takes time to build, but I’m here for the long haul, so you can tell me things when you’re ready to. When the time comes, I’ll be here to help however I can. Alright?”

Alex could only nod in relief. Logically he knew he should have expected that answer, but he was still getting used to this -- didn’t know if he ever truly would get used to having someone around who cared so much.

So many days it was still so hard to breathe but maybe, he thought, with enough time it would finally get easier.

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ii. too worn to fight

Alex knew it was going to be a rough day when he slept through his alarm. Even though he didn’t have to go anywhere, Steve still insisted that he not sleep too late, and normally Alex did fine with it.

But not today apparently.

He lazily watched his phone vibrate with an incoming call from Steve and, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should answer it. The call went to voicemail and he could see he also had a handful of texts from his guardian -- the usual, he was sure, things like ‘did you eat’ and ‘how’s school coming’ -- and the fact that he hadn’t replied had prompted the call. Steve would be worrying about him right now but somehow he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

No, that wasn’t quite right. He did care. It was more like...he didn’t feel anything at all. The fact that Steve was worried seemed to exist on another plain parallel to his own. He cared that Steve was worried, but it was like that worry couldn’t reach him.

His phone vibrated again -- once, short -- to notify him he had a voicemail. He knew he should pick it up and text Steve. If only his arms didn’t feel like lead. Some days he could fight this overwhelming exhaustion that settled into his bones; others, it didn’t seem worth the effort.

Alex didn’t know how long he laid staring at the wall but it was long enough that his plone began to vibrate with another call from Steve.

Again, Alex didn’t move to answer it. Even if he could have summoned the energy to do so, what was he supposed to say? That he hadn’t gotten out of bed yet and couldn’t seem to muster the will to move? Steve would surely drop everything to come home. As much as Alex wanted that -- because he suddenly realized that he did -- he couldn’t stand the thought of the man abandoning his work when there was nothing objectively wrong. At least this way maybe Steve would stay at work.

The call went to voicemail again, and Alex let his eyes slip closed. Maybe if he could sleep just a little longer then he would have the energy to text Steve back…

The next thing Alex knew, calloused fingers were running through his hair. Sighing contentedly, he was happy for the moment to believe that it was now late enough in the day that Steve should be home by now. He didn’t want to consider that Steve had left early because of him.

“You awake, bud?”

“Hmm.” He didn’t want to be. Somehow he was still exhausted.

Steve was quiet for a moment. “I can see you’re having a hard time right now, but I can’t let you stay in bed all day.”

Alex knew it was childish but he didn’t care; he let out a whine anyway. Now he wished he had managed to reply to those texts. He could have bought himself at least a little more time.

“I know, I know. But trust me: you’ll feel better for it. So I need you to get up, get changed, and come downstairs. I’m going to make you something to eat, and then we’re gonna marathon those movies you keep telling me I need to see. Okay?”

He blinked his eyes open and noted that Steve at least had the decency to look remorseful for doing this to him. “Can’t move.”

“I’ll help you. You don’t have to do this alone, Alex. We’ll get you through this together.”

Alex sighed as Steve gripped his arm and pulled him up. He couldn’t fight this alone, but maybe with Steve’s help, he could still get through it.

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iii. hope you know I tried

Alex stared out the window as Kukui High came into view, swallowing around the lump in his throat. This had always been the plan -- that he would take some time “off,” learning remotely, before eventually returning in person -- but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Steve hadn’t said a word about it, but Alex knew the school was putting pressure on the man to get Alex back in the classroom. Trying to relieve some of the stress on Steve’s shoulders, Alex had resigned himself to his fate.

He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as Steve pulled up to the front of the building. He really did not want to do this.

“Alex? Are you sure you’re ready to go back?”

Taking as deep of a breath as he could manage, he reached for the bag at his feet with one hand and for the door handle with the other. “Yeah. See you later,” he said, jumping out and slamming the door behind him before Steve could protest.

He could do this -- he had to do this. If he wasn’t able to be physically present by the end of the semester, they would have to find another option for the next year. Most likely he would end up in a homeschooling program, which honestly didn’t sound half-bad to him but… He needed to do this.

He needed to feel normal again.

As soon as he had stepped into the building, Alex knew he had made a mistake. There were only a few minutes until the late bell would ring, and the hallways were crowded with students, rushing to their first class of the day. Alex felt his heart hammering against his ribs as his anxiety spiked. There were too many people and not enough exits. Someone brushed against his arm as they passed and his skin burned from the brief contact. There were too many people, and he was suffocating.

Alex ducked into the restroom, thankful to find it empty. He dropped his bag to the floor and slid down the wall until he was sitting, his head falling back as he tried to take deep breaths. The empty space around him helped, but with the clarity came the horrible realization: he couldn’t do this.

The bell rang loud and shrill in the silence.

Great, now I’m late. Not that it matters, he thought bitterly. You tried, and you failed. What’s Steve going to think of that, huh?

He wanted to tell Steve even less than he wanted to make another attempt to get to class. But he also knew he couldn’t just sit here. Steve had told the school Alex was coming in today so if he didn’t show up -- if he just skipped -- they would call Steve and he would find out anyway.

Reluctantly, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. But what was he supposed to say? I’m sorry but I didn’t even make it to first period? Steve had been placing an emphasis on being completely honest lately, but this… He had promised he would be fine, that he could do this. How was he supposed to admit that he actually couldn’t?

With a huff, he quickly typed out a message and hit send before he could think too much about it. He shouldn’t have been surprised when his phone vibrated less than a minute later, Steve asking if Alex was able to call. He wanted to say no, but he didn’t have a reason to do so.

Steve picked up on the first ring. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

“Would I be calling you in the middle of class if I was fine?”

Static echoed over the line as Steve sighed. “I’m on my way back. Can you tell me what happened?”

“Rather not. It’s stupid.”

“I can promise you it’s not.”

Alex hesitated. How could he still be honest without having to admit he’d almost had a panic attack? “Guess I’m just not ready after all.”

“Okay. That’s okay. We can try again another day.”

Alex chewed his lip for a moment. “I’m sorry. I tried -- I really did. I just -- I don’t know.” This was so stupid. Why couldn’t he do this one simple thing?

“I know you did, buddy. It’s okay. I promise.”

He wasn’t convinced, but he could deal with his feelings later. “Okay.”

“Alright. Think you can get yourself down to the office?”

The halls were clear by now; everyone had gotten to class long before. “Yeah.”

“I’m five minutes out, so I’ll see you in a bit.”

As Alex hung up, he let out a defeated sigh, his head falling back against the wall again. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as he had thought after all.

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iv. I can’t forgive

Alex had been cornered and he knew it the moment Steve cleared his throat. Sitting at the dinner table, meal only half eaten, there was nowhere to run.

“Care to explain why I got an email from the school today saying that you failed to take some careers survey thing by the due date?”

“I don’t do due dates?”

“Wrong answer. You’ve known you needed to do it since they agreed to you learning remotely back in January. And I know you didn’t just forget because they said they’d sent you several reminders. Wanna try again?”

Alex shrugged. What was he supposed to say? The truth wasn’t particularly easy to swallow. “Looked at the questions, didn’t know how to answer. So I didn’t.”

“Alex.”

Crap. So much for going with the half-truth version. He should know better than that by now, really. Still… “It’s the truth. What else do you want me to say?”

“It’s only half the truth. We’ve talked about this.”

They had. At length. Multiple times. Didn’t make it any easier, though. Just thinking about it had the anger swelling up in his chest, and he set his fork back on his plate with more force than strictly necessary. “What do you want me to say, then? That MI6 ruined my life and I have no prospects because I’m going to be lucky to pass this year, much less graduate? I couldn’t answer those questions because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do!”

Silence hovered around the table for a moment, Alex staring down at this plate as if the peas there had somehow personally offended him, before Steve spoke again. “It’s alright to not know, Alex -- you do know that, don’t you? You could have put down that you’re undecided. That survey is just meant to give an indication of where you’re at, so it’s okay to not know. You’ll get there, Alex; you’ll figure it out. You’ve got time.”

“And if I never figure it out? What then?”

“You will.”

Alex slammed his hands down onto the table, standing abruptly, his chair screeching against the wood floor from the force. “No, I won’t.”

“Alex --.”

“No!” Alex was yelling now, but he didn’t care. “You don’t know what it’s like, okay? You don’t. They stole my whole life from me. Everything! My family, my friends, my future; and now I’ve got nothing left. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be or what I’m supposed to do, and it’s all their fault!” He was vaguely aware of the angry tears building in the corners of his eyes, blurring his vision, but again he couldn’t find it in himself to care. “Every time I tried to fill it out, all I could think about was them, about how I’d been trained growing up, how my life has never been mine, and I’d just get so angry. I can’t let this go, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Steve was silent for a moment before rising to his feet and slowly embracing Alex, who couldn’t help but melt into the offered comfort. “You’re wrong you know,” Steve started softly. “They haven’t taken everything from you -- not yet, at least -- not if you don’t let them. I know it’s hard to let go of the things that have hurt you, but the only way they can keep stealing from you now is if you hold onto your bitterness and anger. That doesn’t mean you have to forgive them for what they did to you; it just means that you refuse to let it control you. You still have a future, Alex. You can take it back from them.”

Alex pressed his forehead harder into Steve’s shoulder, two years of memories and emotions flooding his mind. How was he expected to let go of the hatred and regret? How was he supposed to let go of the things that made up so much of who he was now?

Truthfully, he wanted to. But he didn’t know how.

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v. but it feels deserved

Alex wasn’t stupid; he knew that Steve knew even if his guardian hadn’t said as much. Steve was a cop after all; of course he would have noticed the scars on Alex’s arm after more than two months under the same roof. Steve had never said anything, it was true, but Alex figured since the marks were old and fading, Steve wasn’t concerned.

Then again, maybe he was stupid after all. Because there was no way he was going to be able to hide this, whether Steve already knew or not. It was a bit...glaringly obvious.

Sighing in frustration, he watched the blood drip slowly off his arm and into the bathroom sink. He hadn’t meant for this to happen; he had been doing so well for months now. He wasn’t even sure what had triggered this. One moment he’d been working on school stuff, and the next he had found himself craving the release that he had only been able to truly sate one way. Now his wrist burned and he was left to wonder if it would be better to tell Steve directly or wait for the man to notice and bring it up.

Surely Steve would understand...wouldn’t he? He had been so calm and collected about everything so far, but what if this was the last straw?

He didn’t want to tell Steve -- didn’t want to have the same conversation he’d had so many times already. But he couldn’t hide it either; there was no way.

No matter what choice Alex made, Steve would be disappointed. Disgusted? Put off. No one wanted to deal with this sort of thing; that was why he had tried so hard to stop in the first place, but apparently he hadn’t tried hard enough.

If you’re getting kicked out again, then it doesn’t matter if you keep going, does it?

It was a tempting thought, to let himself go back to his most effective (and worst) coping strategy. Alex took a deep breath, grip tightening around the handle of his pocket knife.

And then the front door slammed closed, followed by the ever familiar voice calling out, “I’m home.”

Crap. He lost his grip in surprise and the knife clattered into the sink, his breath getting caught in his throat. Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Alex knew he needed to work fast to get himself cleaned up, but he was frozen in place, heart pounding.

“Alex? You up here?”

“Bathroom.” His voice was shaking and he prayed Steve wouldn’t notice.

No such luck. The footsteps came closer, and when Alex glanced up to the mirror, he could see Steve through the gap, knew Steve could see him too, though not the blood staining the porcelain.

“You okay, kiddo?”

Alex took a deep breath, tried to steady his voice as he spoke. “Fine.”

Silence, then: “You know that wasn’t convincing, right? What’s wrong?”

He could lie -- or try to, at least, but Steve could always tell somehow, even when his voice wasn’t shaking the way it was right now. He couldn’t lie, but he couldn’t tell the truth either.

“Is it okay if I come in?”

Alex knew he could say no and Steve would respect that, but was there any point in refusing? If Steve was going to find out anyway, it might as well be now. “I guess.”

As the door swung open behind him, Alex closed his eyes and waited with baited breath for the inevitable reaction.

But it never came.

A heavy hand landed between his shoulder blades and began to rub back and forth, and after a moment, Steve finally spoke again, voice gentle and without even the barest hint of condemnation or disappointment. “Okay, buddy, this is what’s gonna happen now: we’re gonna get you cleaned up and then we’re gonna go downstairs and relax for a while. You can tell me what happened if you want -- or not; it’s up to you. We’re gonna do whatever we need to in order to get you back to a better headspace, okay?”

Alex felt like crying; he should have known by now that Steve’s response to everything related to him was to help in whatever way was needed, but he still hadn’t expected it. Somehow he had still thought Steve would be done with him after this, that he’d call Mr Kent and Alex would be alone to deal with his demons once again.

He didn’t deserve this though -- the help and care Steve constantly offered. After everything he’d done -- everything he’d been a part of -- it didn’t make sense. For all the hurt he’d caused, pain was what he deserved.

But he couldn’t say any of that; for now, all he could do was nod.

Ten minutes later, wrist cleaned and wrapped, Alex found himself comfortably smushed between Steve and the back of the couch, head resting on the man’s chest, feeling much calmer than he had before.

Despite it all, the urge was still there, itching uncomfortably underneath his skin. He hated it -- hated that the only thing keeping him from scratching it was Steve’s presence.

He didn’t realize he was aggressively rubbing his thumb over the bandages until Steve gently pulled his hands apart.

“You’re going to make it bleed again doing that.” The words were soft, without condemnation, and Alex hated them. He didn’t understand why, but some part of him wanted Steve to react any way except the way he was. Surely he deserved it -- deserved anything other than gentleness and care.

“You still want to.”

The statement caught Alex off-guard. He swallowed thickly around the threatening tears. “Yes.”

“Okay. Tell me what you need from me, buddy. I want to help.”

Alex shrugged. The one thing he needed was exactly what Steve was trying to help him avoid. How could he possibly admit that what he needed most was to hurt himself? It was the only thing that brought the relief he needed. He had only managed to hold off as long as he had by substituting -- digging his knuckles into his thigh hard enough to bruise, snapping a rubber band with enough force to leave welts -- but even then those things had never completely released the pressure, only dulled it enough to keep him from bleeding instead. He knew it was messed up, but that didn’t stop him from needing it.

Steve’s arms tightened around him. “That’s alright. We’ll figure it out. We’re gonna get through this, buddy.”

For the first time since Christmas, Alex wasn’t so sure he believed that.

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+i. leave on the light

Alex sat at the table, staring blankly at the laptop screen in front of him. He was never going to get caught up at this rate, but he couldn’t help it. Focusing was impossible, and he found himself absently running his thumb over the still-healing cuts on his wrist. It might help him refocus -- it had in the past -- but Steve was already worried enough about him. His guardian tried to hide it, but Alex knew better; he knew Steve was keeping an eye out for anything new. There was an obvious solution to the man’s watchfulness, but moving to a different part of his body would make it less accessible, not to mention the guilt he would feel about hiding it after the conversation they’d had.

Steve wasn’t forcing therapy on him but, in exchange, he wanted Alex to come to him when it got bad. Alex didn’t have to talk, but Steve wanted to help him “ride it out” -- whatever that meant. Alex had accepted the compromise, so he couldn’t very well go back on it without feeling guilty. Not to mention that, deep down, he didn’t actually want to keep doing this. It helped, sure, but that didn’t mean he liked doing it.

But he couldn’t seem to stop, either.

All of his life he had never been in control of anything -- from the death of his parents to MI6 to ending up in Hawaii -- but this he’d always had control over. He couldn’t control what had already happened, but he could control how he coped with it all.

Or so he liked to think. But maybe it was time to admit that he couldn’t handle this on his own anymore. That, despite his best efforts, he still had no control over anything. That he needed help.

And, for the first time in forever, he actually knew where to go to get it.

Before he could change his mind about what he was going to do, he stood up, closed his laptop, and walked out the door, barely remembering to grab his keys on the way out. He debated on taking the bus for a moment but ended up grabbing his bike instead. He used to bike all across London; here to the Palace wouldn’t be all that bad, his phone confirming it to be about a forty-five-minute ride. Besides, he could really use the exercise and the distraction from what he was about to do.

As it turned out, forty-five minutes was still too short of a time, and before Alex knew it, he was staring up at Iolani Palace, hands shaking with anxiety. He wasn’t sure what to do now that he was here. He had only been here once before (excluding the ordeal in December) and he’d been with Steve then. Was he supposed to walk in the front door and ask for Five-0? What if they wouldn’t let him in? What if Steve wasn’t even here? What if --?

“Alex?”

Thoughts interrupted, Alex whipped his head around. Steve and Danny had come out of the side door and were now standing there, staring at him.

“What are you doing here? Are you alright?”

Alex opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out. Diverting his gaze to the pavement, he stood in embarrassed silence. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say the entire ride here, but now the words were lodged in his throat, determined to stay there. He didn’t realize Steve had moved closer until he felt the man’s hand on his arm. Looking up from the ground, he found the same caring and concern that was always there. And then the dam broke, tears falling that he hadn’t even realized were building.

“I think I need help.”

Steve pulled him into a tight hug, Alex letting his head fall against Steve’s shoulder as the tears continued. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been standing there before he managed to pull himself together and lean back, wiping away the wet tracks from his cheeks. When he looked up, Steve gave him a small smile, sad but warm, and Danny was nowhere to be seen.

“Let’s get you home; then we’ll talk, okay?”

Alex nodded as he grabbed his bike and turned towards where Steve’s truck was parked.

The ride home was silent, and Alex was grateful for that; it gave him time to calm down and collect his thoughts again. As soon as they arrived home, Steve steered Alex straight to the couch.

“Okay, we’re home. Tell me what you need, Alex.”

“I don’t know -- and I’m not trying to be difficult. I just really don’t know. I just -- I need help. I can’t do this anymore.” Alex was frustrated -- always frustrated -- but as always, Steve was calm and endlessly patient.

“Okay -- that’s alright. Can you explain why you decided you need help?”

Alex didn’t want to do this today any more than he ever did, but he knew he needed to. If he wanted help, he was going to have to open all the dusty boxes tucked into dark corners that he had hid away for so long.

But, maybe for now, opening just one would be enough.

Taking a deep breath, he willed his voice to be steady. “My entire life has been one thing after another that I have had no say in. I need to be in control of something -- anything -- even if it’s only one thing. And the one thing I thought had control over -- well, I’ve realized I really don’t. I hate it. This isn’t what I want at all.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Steve nod before he said, “You want to take back your life.”

Oh. He should have realized it sooner, but now Steve’s words from weeks prior had hit him square in the face: he may not be “working” for MI6 or the CIA anymore, but he was still letting them control him. Steve was right again -- as he so often was. Alex needed to learn how to let go so he could heal. He hadn’t been able to admit it before, but maybe he finally could now. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“I know, and that’s okay. I don’t have the answers either, buddy, but I bet we can find someone who does.”

Alex winced. “A shrink you mean.” He still didn’t like the idea anymore than the first time Steve had suggested it months ago, but...he was probably also right.

Steve huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I know how you feel about that, but a professional is going to be for more help than I could ever be on my own. I’m still not going to force you to, Alex, but they can actually help you get to where you want to be. You can take control again, but you’re going to need someone who knows how to do that to show you.”

“I know. Which is why I want to try it out.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ll...give it a shot.”

Steve pulled Alex into his side. “I’m glad to hear that, buddy. I will still be here every step of the way.”

For the first time since everything spiralled out of control, Alex felt the weight on his shoulders lift just a little.

. . . .

Tags: @diekatimitdemhutohnehut @just-add-butter

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jynzandtonic · 4 years

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Jyn, have you ever seen an ASMR video? I've watched them for years as they relax me a lot. Imagine opening a youtube channel and Clyde is your "guest", the one receiving scalp massages/scratch (and also shoulders, neck, back) *-* Oh what I'd give to put my hands in that long beautiful hair. This reminded me of your fic The Show Must Go On, but it's a kind of SFW version, lol. Anyway, many hugs to you :3

V, I LOVE THIS. I love this for so many reasons. I do watch ASMR (my favorite is itzblitzzz) and I’m really big on its neurological benefits—I’ll throw the science book at anyone who wants me to go all brain-nerd on ‘em about it.

I love this for Clyde in that he’s not too savvy with technology and the interwebs, and wouldn’t know the first dang thing about ASMR videos being a “thing.” I also love this for Clyde because he’d MELT over the special attention and physical touch once you talked him into it. Ugh. My HEART!

So congratulations. You’ve done the impossible without even trying. You convinced me to write my very first 1k zero-smut ficlet: Clyde gets ASMR.

He’s seen you playin’ the videos on your phone before—seen the wigglin’ hands and candles and fancy brushes and what not. Even if ya had headphones on, he could tell the folks in ‘em were whisperin’, thinkin’ it a strange thing not to talk in a normal speakin’ voice while recording.

The night he finally peeks over your shoulder to ask what the heck you’re watchin’, you tell him alllll about how relaxing the videos are, how they help you fall asleep, how they give you little tingles that flicker from the base of your skull down between your shoulder blades. He doesn’t quite ‘get’ that last bit, so you tell him about the camera and microphone setup you and Mellie just went half-and-half on: she’s gonna start making hairstyle tutorials and you’re trying your hand at some ASMR. He can be your very first guest—that way, he can see if he gets ‘the tingles’ firsthand.

Clyde agrees, bein’ amenable as always. Whenever he’s due for a trim, it does feel awful nice to have Mellie brush his hair out beforehand, and he just adores it when ya lather up the shampoo on his scalp in the shower… He supposes sittin’ down for your video wouldn’t be any sort of torture, even if he don’t quite get why folks’d want to watch him. You’re quite the treat to look at, so he guesses that’s more of an appeal than him an’ his unruly mop.

As the sun goes down the next day, you set up a cozy corner to record in: you hang strands of twinkle lights, line up your favorite candles, lay your favorite brush out, and brew a cup of herbal tea for Clyde.

When you lead him into the space—shuffling along in his fuzzy socks and camo shorts and butter-soft t-shirt, looking cuddly as can be—he sees the soft glow of candlelight and the velvet cushions you’ve placed on his chair.

“Well this looks pretty magical, darlin’.” He kisses your cheek. “Feel like I don’t deserve all this, whatever this is,” he chuckles quietly, voice unconsciously hushed from the calm atmosphere.

“Nonsense. Of course you do. Now sit,” you instruct, steering him to the chair and checking the camera as he settles in. It’s immediately clear you’ll need to adjust your initial placement; Clyde’s broad shoulders eclipse the frame, the top of the view cutting off at his slightly-pouted lips.

“Do I… Do I have to look at the camera the whole time, now?” he asks, concerned.

“No, not if you don’t want to—” you readjust the focus and tilt the mic, stopping to kiss his forehead as you take your place standing behind him, “—you can just close your eyes and relax. Are you ready?”

“‘Bout as ready as I can be,” he answers with a stoic nod.

You squeeze his shoulders, solid and warm under your hands, then press the record button on the remote tucked in your pocket. Your hands find the very ends of his hair, teasing the tumbling waves between your fingertips. Bourbon-smooth, honey-sweet, your voice is no more than a whisper when you begin to speak.

“Tonight, I’m going to be recording a session with my sweet love, Clyde…”

Oh, he likes that. That makes his heart swell up all big, makes the corners of his eyes crinkly. He feels the creases in his cheeks grow deep as you murmur all sorts of lovely, bewitchin’ things about him—sayin’ he has a warm, calming energy (he’s not too sure what that means, but it sure makes him feel good) and that you always feel safe when you’re with him. You whisper that his hair is so silky-soft and thick as you start to comb your fingers through it, tugging gentle handfuls that heat up his scalp.

The first sigh he puffs out is silent, but the second is accompanied by a happy little hum, betraying his enjoyment at your attention. Bringing your fingertips to his hairline, you graze your nails along his scalp in rippling, sinusoidal patterns—dragging all the way through the ends of his hair when you reach the nape of his neck and repeating the motion.

His head feels warm and fuzzy by the time you start to run the soft bristles of your brush from the roots to the tips of his mane, following its path with soothing strokes of your hand. And boy, whatever you just spritzed on him smells nice—sorta minty but a little more like a tree or somethin’? Smells like one of those fancy day spas in Charleston. Treatin’im like it’s a fancy day spa, too, kneading and massaging his shoulders…

But it’s not till you start tracing your fingertips over him that the swaths of goosebumps appear on his skin; your touch is feather-light, scrawling invisible lines and whorls down his neck, back, and biceps.

Oh lord, he’s tinglin’ all over, his eyelids are heavier’n stones in a streambed, he’s...

He’s out.

You hold his head up for as long as you can, the warm drag of his slow breaths rhythmic and deep—but eventually, your hand starts to go numb where you support him. Squeezing at his shoulder gently, you tug at his consciousness like a fish at the end of a line.

Maple-brown eyes blink open, soft and shiny, the glimmer of twinkle lights collected and reflected back in wide, dark pupils.

“How long I been out darlin’?”

“Well… long enough for the camera battery to die. I couldn’t wake you up; you just looked too sweet.”

A touch of pink warms his cheeks, and he nuzzles into your hand. “I… I reckon I know why this helps ya fall asleep now.”

You kiss all over the top of his head, inhaling the sweet, cedary smell that always lingers on him.

“Well, good—let’s get you tucked in, then,” you say, squeezing his shoulder. “You’ve gotta get your beauty rest for tomorrow’s video.”

“I get to do another one of these?” he asks dreamily.

“No, not another one of these,” you shake your head, smiling. “Mellie’s doing a French braid tutorial, and you’re the model.”

#ask #fuckyeahvirgybk #jynzandtonic writes #jyn z fics #FLUFF #clyde logan #it's not smut so I didn't engage the taglist but I can if y'all want idk?#floooooooof #ASMR #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #clyde logan/reader #clyde logan/you #clyde logan imagine #clyde logan fanfic #lucky logan #lucky logan fanfic #gender neutral reader

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im-not-looking-for-forgiveness · 4 years

Note

Hi! I saw you said your requests were open? If they are I was wondering if you can maybe write a future!reader X Tommy Shelby story? Idk like maybe she gets stuck before the war? And she becomes close to the shelby family? Then they go off to war and when they come back Tommy’s not the same and then everything with grace and the reader is heart broken? They were never together but there was always something there. When Tommy chooses grace reader leaves?

Time to be Alive - Thomas Shelby x Reader - Peaky Blinders AU

Full request: "Hi! I saw you said your requests were open? If they are I was wondering if you can maybe write a future!reader X Tommy Shelby story? Idk like maybe she gets stuck before the war? And she becomes close to the shelby family? Then they go off to war and when they come back Tommy's not the same and then everything with grace and the reader is heart broken? They were never together but there was always something there. When Tommy chooses grace reader leaves? Continuation of my last lol So reader maybe ends up back in her time? When Tommy and the shelby's finally realize there all heart broken? Maybe she eventually comes back? Idk just a thought."

A/N: I absolutely love this request! I'm making it into a series, instead of just doing one long part. I think it'll be better that way, since it's such a rich idea! Also, this is really fun to write because of pre-war Tommy!!!! From what I gathered and from how I imagine him, I see Tommy as happier and more carefree.

Taglist: @tranquility-or-chaos @captivatedbycillianmurphy @hxnky-cat @imagine-richards @sweetiekokkiri

*****

“Fuck!” you bit out, cursing both your ability to travel through space-time and your inability to remember to check if your phone had been in your pocket.

You used your power to get away from a man stalking you because you didn't have your phone, and now you couldn’t find your way back the present day. Jumping, as you named it, was like being on a very long leash and then running through a maze. You could see that there was a way back, but you had to untangle all the rope in order to do so. On top of that, you needed to replenish the energy you lost by running through the figurative maze. It had been a fun trick when you were younger, but it was too inconsistent. You could get stuck, like you were now, while waiting for your energy to come back. Your longest stint on one of these trips had been a little over a year, and that had been bad enough. You had a feeling that this one was going to be very, very long.

First things first, you had to figure out where you were and when. Then, it was clothing and housing that you had to get to next. Those were always the trickiest parts since you had a bad habit of seeming extraordinarily out of place. Being from the year 2020 could do that to a person. You tried to study world history in order to prepare, but you never really ended up in the era or the place that you’d been studying. Some superpower this was, right?

You emerged from the alley, and immediately the pungent scent of the city hit your nose. This was some sort of industrial era for sure, but you needed a newspaper to double-check.

Folding your arms around your chest in an attempt to hide your modern looking black top and trousers, you went down the muddy street to find a newspaper stand. Surely they must have one, if the early Ford cars were anything to go by. Perhaps you were in the early 1900s?

"Please be the twenties." you muttered to yourself. It was your favorite era to learn about in school, and you had been to that time period once before. Though, you hadn't gotten stuck there and it was after the war.

Spotting a newsstand, you hurried over to it. You just needed to see the date, and then you could be on your way. The muddy ground sucked at your boots uncomfortably, threatening to pull them off.

"Hello, dear. Paper?" a man asked, his accent strong but hard to pinpoint. It seemed to be a blend of English and Irish.

"Thanks, but I just want to see the headline. I don't need the whole thing." you gave a smile, and quickly sought out the date. If he noticed your American accent, he didn't comment.

May 3rd, 1914.

You scanned the paper quickly, and then walked away. You didn't want him to get annoyed with you, especially since you were suddenly close to tears. You'd gone back to Birmingham, England before the start of the first World War. This was bad, very bad indeed. Fuck.

"At least you don't have family to worry about." you muttered bitterly to yourself, eyes stinging. You should have just tried to fight your stalker off instead of using your power. You wish you'd never used it in the first place.

Lost in a torrent of anger and regret, you kept walking until you found yourself inside a horse stable. You couldn't get anything done with you being in such a state, so you figured you might as well stay until you could figure out what to do. It was warm and dry here, and it was unlikely anyone was going to ride one of these animals until the morning. Or so you hoped.

You nestled into the corner, and borrowed a horse blanket to cover yourself. Cold and exhausted from the day's events, you tumbled into an uneasy sleep.

"Hey! Wake up, you're not supposed to be in here." a man's voice startled you awake. It felt like only moments since you'd shut your eyes, but the early morning sun pouring in told you it had been hours.

"Sorry. I have nowhere else to go." you mumbled an apology, finding the eyes of the man above you. They were a startling shade of blue and held such weight that you could almost believe he had some sort of power of his own.

"It's alright, just get up. Arthur is the one you have to look out for. What's your name?" he answered. You couldn't help but notice how smooth his voice was. He could probably talk anyone into anything if he wanted.

"Y/N. Uh, what's yours?" you asked him tentatively in return, getting up and brushing off bits of straw and dirt. Oh shit, your clothes! Your clothes were definitely not a trend for women these days, nor had the style even been thought of yet. Had he noticed?

"Thomas Shelby, but you can call me Tommy." the man said, taking the blanket from your hands. His gaze skimmed down your body, and you immediately knew he had caught on. Shit!

Tommy questioned immediately, "Where are you from?"

"The year 2020, almost 100 years in the future." you got out, feeling inexplicably like you could trust him with your secret.

He snorted with amusement, "Alright, and I'm God."

You felt desperate to convince him, "I'm serious. I'm not from this year. Look, see my wristwatch? You don't have this kind of technology yet."

Thomas' eyes were transfixed on the metal around your wrist. The digital face read out the time in bright green numbers: 7:09a.m.

While showing your (missing) phone would have been a bigger shock, you knew better than to show him too much. It wasn't so much that you were afraid he would try to replicate it, but that showing him something from the future would cause too much havoc in the current day. You never wanted to find out what directly messing with the timeline of events did if you could help it.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, taking a step forward. With you already in the corner, you had no choice to put your back against the wall. You wondered again if he had some sort of power.

"I have the ability to travel through time. I don't know why or how it works, and it's very unreliable. I was trying to ditch a man that was following me, and I ended up stranded here. I can't leave until my powers are working again. That's the only explanation I can give." you told him helplessly, gaze caught in his.

Tommy stared at you a while, not even blinking. You hoped he wouldn't find a way to lock you up, or send you to an asylum. You'd already been through that before, too, and had to wait two weeks until you were able to jump out of there. The one unwavering conclusion that you'd learned from your using your power was that humanity always feared what it didn't understand.

"Alright. I believe you." Thomas acknowledged, taking a step back once more.

"You do?" you sighed in relief.

"Yes. You'd either have to be mad or honest, and my bet is on the latter. It's too insane a story to make up just for being caught sleeping here." he gave you a small smile, which made your breath catch in your throat. It was such a dazzling display that it caught you off guard. He was breathtaking.

"Wow. Alright, then. Most people don't believe me that quickly." you gave a nervous chuckle.

"I'm not most people. Come on, we've got to find you a job and a place to stay if you're going to be here a while. Oh, and take this. Your clothes will attract attention." he said, beginning to head out of the stables. He paused on the way to shrug off his coat and give it to you.

"Thank you, Tommy." you said, mouth enjoying the way his name felt. You took the offer and slid into his warm coat. It smelled of hay and some sort of soap, a comforting smell.

For the first time since arriving in 1914, you weren't thinking of how to get back to 2020.

To be continued...

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby headcanon #thomas shelby headcanon #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder au #au #cillian murphy #request #imagine

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let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

another kind of green (6/10)

Emma Swan spends her days in pretty white dresses and heavy layers of makeup. Day after day and dress after dress, she poses for pictures and acts like she’s in love and having the happiest day of her life with the man standing next to her.

It’s not. This is all a gig, and at the end of the day, she’s no longer the girl in the pretty dress who’s faking getting married for a magazine cover or a wedding convention. Instead, she’s the girl who probably never wants to get married.

Little does she know, she already is.

Rating: Mature

a/n: thanks to you all for giving this little thing a shot, even with its goofy premise. Gotta love those prompts. lol. But really, you’re the best! 😊

ao3: beginning | current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

-/-

For a moment, his mind is hazy, a mixture of too many glasses of champagne and the lust running down his spin, curling around his bones and his skin in a thick heat that fogs his brain and his vision, but then there’s the feel of sharp nails scratching down his back through the cotton material of his t-shirt and the warmth of a mouth hotly pressed against his own. She tastes of vanilla cake and champagne, and she feels like absolute heaven.

The haze evaporates when her tongue runs over his bottom lip, all of his senses suddenly able to focus on just that one feeling and how good it is, and he might as well have not had a single sip of alcohol today. He’s sober in a sense, at least as much as one can be after so much champagne, but he could get drunk on the feeling of this woman and the way that her breasts press softly into his chest as he presses her up against the hotel wall with a soft thud that echoes down the empty hallway.

For minutes, who knows how long, Killian’s consumed by the way her tongue moves against his and the way that she likes when his teeth nibble against her lips. He’s consumed with the way that her hands feel in his hair, nails now scratching his scalp, and he’s consumed with the way her waist feels as his fingers dip down further, palming the firmness of her ass.

How the hell did he luck into meeting someone so beautiful today?

This was just supposed to be a job, a day where he did what was asked of him, got paid, and then spent the night wandering around Vegas and taking in all of the craziness that comes with this city where people seem to think that life doesn’t exist outside city limits. It’s all about the here and now and finding the pleasure that’s right in front of you.

Then again, that’s exactly what he’s doing right now.

The two of them eventually move back from the wall, working their way down the hallway only for Emma to push him back up against the door to his room, her hands falling away from his hair and down his back until she’s palming him through his jeans while he’s running his lips across the smooth skin of her neck, reveling in the sounds that she makes, sweet and delicate and yet deliciously dirty. He’d take her right here if it wouldn’t get them arrested for public indecency, and that thought has him fumbling for his room key, sliding it over the handle, and moving them inside as they deftly start removing clothes. He pulls his t-shirt off while Emma removes her shirt, revealing a white bra covered in lace. It looks like something she would have worn under the dress she had on all day, and for a brief moment, he wonders if maybe she forgot to take it off and turn it back in.

But the thought quickly dissipates when he feels his jeans being tugged down, his boxers going down with them, and all of the sudden Emma has her hands on his cock.

Bloody hell.

She’s a magician with her touch, the way that she puts on just enough pressure to give him something but not enough to have him writhing with trembling legs, but when her mouth joins her hands, he nearly loses it. Just nearly, though, and since he doesn’t want this night to end with his jeans around his ankles and Emma still half dressed, he moves to stop her, explaining that he has other plans for this night that he thinks might bring her a bit more pleasure.

“Really now?”

“Aye, Swan,” he confirms, kicking his jeans away and pulling her up until he backs her up to the bed so that she falls down and hair mess of blonde hair tumbles down around her. “Be patient for a moment.”

“I’ve never been very good at that.”

“Well, practice makes perfect.”

“Do lines like that always work for you?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

She doesn’t get a chance to answer before he’s running his tongue along the hollow of her throat. He feels the breath escape her, feels the way her body tenses before loosening, and he noses his way down until he’s kissing between her breasts while one hand moves away the lace of her bra so he can find a nipple, twisting it until it’s taut, and the other hand runs down the rest of her body to feel the smoothness of her skin.

She’s glorious, and he tells her so only for her to scoff. Killian doesn’t know much about her, but from what he can tell, she doesn’t like to admit that she likes the flowery words and the slowness of intimacy even if she does.

That might be too quick of a judgment. It’s not important anyway.

Her back arches when he dips his head to wrap his mouth around her nipple while his hands find the waistband of her leggings, tugging them down until he finds the slick flesh awaiting him. Emma gasps, and he grins into her flesh before moving down her body as his fingers curl into her and her hips press up into him. It doesn’t take long before her leggings are on the floor and he’s nibbling on her inner thigh, soothing his bites with his tongue all the while he watches her chest heave with each movement of his fingers and his lips.

She might be the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, and he buries his mouth between her thighs until her legs are shaking around him and ankles are hooking into his back while her hand tugs on his hair to keep him exactly where he is.

Fuck.

“Fuck,” Emma heavily pants out, echoing his thoughts. When he looks up from her thighs, sweat is pooling around her forehead, hair moving from tamed waves to tangled curls, and she has the prettiest pink blush that resides on her cheeks and fades down to her breasts. “I feel like I should thank you for that.”

“The pleasure has been all mine.” She tilts her head, and he smiles. “Or all yours.”

“There you go with those lines again.”

Killian chuckles, curling his fingers inside of her once more before slowly pulling them out and crawling up her body, leaving the marks of his lips over every inch of her before his mouth finds hers again. This kiss is slow, thorough, and there’s no rush to it until his cock drags against her inner thigh, close enough to brush against her folds.

“Condom,” Emma whispers. “Get the condom.”

There’s nothing he’d like more.

The next few seconds are a blur of him rolling off of her and moving to find his jeans, fumbling around in the pockets to get the condoms they bought on the way here. He rips a package open, careful not to rip the condom as well, and slides it on before settling back in between Emma’s thighs. He takes her ankles and pushes her knees back while he settles down onto his own, leaning forward to brush his lips over the hollow of her throat. And then he’s slowly sliding into her, the warm heat of her surrounding her, and he’s the luckiest son of a bitch in Vegas tonight.

“You feel absolutely divine, love,” Killian grunts as he starts with slow rolls of his hip, leaning down in order to catch her clit as much as he can.

“Faster,” she whispers, clawing for his neck to pull him up so that she can kiss him, something quick and dirty. He shifts with the movement, going in deeper, and his groan is captured with Emma’s kiss. “Faster. Don’t go slow.”

“Are you determined to kill me, lass?”

“No, but that would certainly be an extra perk.”

He chuckles against her before he begins rutting against her, his cock dragging against her walls as his thrusts get fast enough until Emma tells him to stay just how he is. Once he’s there, it’s a rush to the finish line. The bed squeaks underneath them, the mattress moving with the power of his thrusts, and Emma lets one leg down while Killian pushes the other back, spreading her wider as his hand finds where they’re joined, rubbing until Emma is panting again.

This is a one-night stand, a one-time thing. They both know it, but they might as well make the best out of it.

His thrusts are sloppy now, his release building with every second, but Emma falls first with a keening whimper. He’s quickly behind her, though, pleasure washing over him and spreading from his spine to his toes and everything in between as his orgasm slowly fades away until he’s…

“Holy shit,” Killian gasps, jolting up in bed and throwing the covers off of him while he blinks at the brightness of the sun shining through his bedroom windows.

Sweat is dripping down his back and forming around his temples until it seeps into his hair. When he runs his hand through it, it’s half damp, some of the strands sticking together, and when Killian looks down, he can see the tenting in his boxers.

That was…he’s never had such a clear memory of he and Emma’s night in Vegas, but that’s what that was. There were parts missing, a few others filled in, and there was no recollection of them getting drunk and getting married but damn. That was something.

His body is thrumming with want and desire, the dream fulfillment not actually real, and Killian is tempted to take himself in hand and give himself some relief. Then, however, he turns to the side and sees the annulment papers sitting on his bedside table. They’ve been there for a week, and he hasn’t touched them since he briefly read over them to make sure Emma hadn’t written down any of the wrong information that he would need to contest. She didn’t, and he carried them from the kitchen counter to his bedroom and left them there. He can’t get himself off to a dream of this woman, even if the dream was inspired by real events, and he needs a cold shower and to go for a run.

A long run.

Sighing, Killian stands from the bed with shaky legs and quickly strips out of his clothes, making his way into his bathroom and the shower, not giving the water any time to even remotely heat up before he steps inside and lets the chilling water fall against his body, washing away the physical remnants of his dream until his skin is pink.

It was just a dream.

That’s what he repeats over and over in his head as he changes into shorts and a t-shirt and as he makes his way to his usual running path along the Charles. The sweat that he washed away quickly comes back as he starts his run. The pace is slow at first, a warm up of sorts, but his head is so full of thoughts and dreams that he quickly hurries up, blocking out absolutely everything but the thought of needing to put one foot in front of the other and the sounds of the playlist reverberating around in his ears. There’s a pleasant burn stretching up from his calves to his hamstrings, his body telling him that he’s stretching himself past normal limits, and weirdly, it drives Killian forward so that he keeps running and running and running and…

“For fuck’s sake,” he mumbles under his breath when he sees her.

She’s four paces in front of him in a pair of black leggings that hug every curve she has before showing off her toned midriff that’s barely covered by the sports bra she has on. Her hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, blonde waves still managing to cascade down her back, and life has got to be out to get him or something. This is a big city. They shouldn’t run into each other as often as they do. It makes him wonder how long they’ve been running in the same circles without either of them truly knowing it.

He thinks he would have noticed her before, but there are a lot of women in Boston.

For a moment, he almost turns around and runs away from Emma and away from the current source of every single problem in his life, but that would mean he’s passing up on an opportunity to talk to her. He’s not about to do that. Sighing, he presses forward and sprints until he’s two steps ahead of her and can see her face.

(And her breasts, but for the sake of public decency, he’s not going to let his brain wander back to the source of his dreams and the reality right in front of him.)

One of these days he’s going to stop chasing this woman.

“Holy shit,” Emma pants out, stopping in her tracks and squatting down to the ground with her hands covering her face as her shoulders shake. “You scared the shit out of me, Jones. Where did you come from?”

“Well, thirty years and nine months ago, Brennan and – ”

“Shut up.”

“You asked the question.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting your dumbass answer.”

Killian chuckles and reaches his hand forward to help pull her up from the ground. Both of their chests are heaving as they try to catch their breaths after such an abrupt stop to their runs, and he thinks Emma’s face might be as red as a tomato.

“I was running and happened to notice this beautiful woman with a delectable ass in front of me. It was too bad that it ended up being you.”

She slaps his shoulder for that. He probably deserves it. “For that, you’re buying me a jumbo smoothie.”

“Oh, you don’t want to finish your run?”

“You threw my momentum off, and now all I want is a smoothie. My ass is apparently delectable, so I obviously don’t have to be out here. Thus, the smoothie.”

“From any place in particular?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, smiling, “follow me.”

They chat about nothing in particular as they walk, surprisingly comfortable silence falling in between them whenever a certain topic dies down, and within a few minutes, they’re standing behind the counter of a packed smoothie place that has a menu far too large for any reasonable man to be able to make a choice. Emma, however, is obviously a frequent visitor here, and she quickly tells him that she wants some kind of ridiculous concoction full of kale and cauliflower but with enough fruit that all of that is drowned out. Killian’s all for eating healthy. It’s what he does most days of his life, but whatever happened to a simple strawberry and banana smoothie? He forgets that Emma is a model sometimes, that she’s expected to stay in a sample size for her shoots, and this must be her way of balancing out all of the junk food that he’s seen her eat.

It also makes him glad that his days of staying trim for jobs are nearly behind him and that the reason he stays in shape now is because he’s going to get to do something productive with his life that’s more than simply a way to pay the bills.

The Academy is going to start in two weeks, and while it’s absolutely going to kick his ass, he’s ready for it.

This is real, and it’s happening.

After he gets their drinks – there is a combination of simply strawberry and banana but he finds a mango one with protein powder that doesn’t seem too bad – he makes his way back to the back of the shop where Emma’s saved them a table and is tapping away on her phone.

“Thank you,” she says when he hands her the smoothie. “What’d you get?”

“Mango.”

“Didn’t take you for a tropical fruit kind of guy.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

She huffs and reaches forward to take a sip of her drink while still texting. “I have a shoot for a local designer today,” she explains, nodding down at her phone. “Actually, it’s the woman who gave me my first job, funnily enough.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, but she keeps changing her tune on whether I need to meet her at the hair salon or at the location. She’s always been so flighty.”

“Are you going to be late for it, love?”

“No.” Emma shakes her head and places her phone down, looking up at him with this soft smile that he’s really grown quote fond of over the past few weeks. “So, what’s got you out running so early in the morning?”

Heat immediately fills his cheeks while his groin twitches. “I like the mornings. It’s when I feel most productive. No other reason than that.”

She tilts her head to the side. “Do you usually run this track? I’ve never seen you before.”

“Yeah, this is my spot on days where I’m not in a gym. You?”

“Well, you know, I go to about ten different places to work out because I’m either avoiding Mulan or wanting a different kind of workout, but I’ve been running lately. It’s nice to not be stuffed inside a building with all those other people. Are you going to be here again tomorrow?”

“Why, Swan,” he starts, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the table as he waggles his brows, “I didn’t think you cared about me that much to want to see me again.”

“I don’t.” “Liar.”

“I am not a liar.”

“Oh, but you most definitely are, love.” He winks, curling his lips into the smirk he knows causes the corners of her lips to turn up. “I’m irresistible. We’ve established this.”

“Just because I slept with you on the day we met doesn’t mean I find you irresistible.”

Her words seem to catch up to her after she’s said them, another pretty blush coloring her face, and she quickly blinks away from him.

“Have I ever told you about the time that my brother nearly walked in on me the first time I was about to have sex?” he asks, changing the subject.

“No,” Emma gasps, pulling her leg up into the chair and wrapping her arm around her knee as she sips on her smoothie. “You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not. I believed the lass and I were home alone. We’d just shed our clothes, and I was not the smooth, confident man that I am now.”

“Well, that’s getting a little carried away.”

His eyes roll. “Anyways, I’ve just put on a condom, am about to slide home, and the front door slams and my brother comes in yelling about how much of an idiot I was for not mailing off the power bill. I think my girlfriend was dressed and hiding in the closet in under thirty seconds.”

“Damn, that’s impressive.”

“Aye.”

“And also unfortunate,” Emma snickers, wiping at her eyes. “I didn’t know you had a brother. Does he have the whole charming British thing going on too or did he spend too much time in America and lose all of that? I remember Ariel saying something about you having only been here for a few years.”

Killian scratches at his neck as his heart pangs. He shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have tried to lighten the mood by telling the first story that came to mind, but he did. And as much as it hurts, it also feels surprisingly good to have talked about Liam with someone other than Eric and Ariel.

Cathartic, in a way.

Liam’s almost always on his mind, and it’s difficult not to talk about him when all he wants is to share his memory.

“Liam died three years ago. He was a cop here, and during a routine traffic stop, he was shot and ended up passing away because he was trying to tell a guy his taillight was out.”

He wants to look away, to not have to see the pity in Emma’s face, but he doesn’t. He’s drawn to seeing how she reacts, to seeing if the green of her eyes change or if that pretty smile fades away.

The smile does fade, from the vibrant one to a small, soft one, lips pressed together, and the green gets lighter, but it’s difficult to focus on any of that when her hand is reaching across the table and gentle fingers are wrapping around his wrist.

“You better start running a little faster if you want to be a badass cop like your brother. Your legs were a little slow out there.”

“You didn’t even see me run.”

“Nah, but I can tell.”

“You’re so good to me, Swan.”

“I try.”

They don’t talk about Liam anymore. Emma doesn’t ask questions like most everyone else has done, and it’s nice. It’s more than nice actually. It’s one of the best mornings he’s had in a long time, and Killian realizes that’s been happening more and more frequently lately on the days he gets to spend with Emma.

The thought nearly stops him in his tracks as he says goodbye to Emma outside the smoothie shop after they’d stayed for nearly two hours. It’s been years since he felt this kind of thrill that starts in the pit of his stomach and works over all of his limbs until the tips of his fingers are buzzing. There have been times, moments even, when he thought that maybe he’d find someone who made him feel the way he felt once, but those were all false alarms. That’s what this has to be too, right?

This is simply lust and the remembrance of what it felt to be inside of Emma and to see her moving below him and hear the whispered sighs of his name. This is not the fact that he looks forward to seeing her and laughs at her awful little jokes and appreciates the way that she doesn’t make him talk about all of the shit in his past.

“Where have you been?”

Killian startles and then looks down to see his apartment keys in his hands before looking up to see that he’s made it back to his apartment and is standing inside, Will sitting at the bar eating a bowl of cereal.

When did he manage to make it home?

“Running,” Killian says, dropping his keys onto the counter and reaching into the fridge for the pitcher of water. “For this long?”

“Yep.”

“You left at seven this morning. It’s almost noon.”

“I ran into Emma.”

Will barks out a laugh, and Killian ignores him, grabbing a glass out of the cabinet. “So you ran into your wife and then decided to spend your entire morning with her?”

“Shut up, you wanker. I knew explaining that to you after Ariel told you was the worst thing I could have done. I should have left you confused.”

“You know, I was reading up on annulments, and I was wondering if you two were going through with that because you couldn’t consummate the relationship and not because you were too drunk to remember your magical, romantic ceremony.”

“Piss off and eat your cereal, Scarlet.”

“I love you too, mate, and I’m pretty sure you also love your wife.”

He doesn’t, but he’s about halfway there.

-/-

Tag list: @xemmaloveskillianx @stahlop @shardminds @carpedzem @captainsjedi @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @shireness-says @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @spartanguard @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic

#another kind of green #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan

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angelofbenignmalevolence · 4 years

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Sealed with a Kiss

TITLE: Sealed with a Kiss CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Oneshot AUTHOR: malignedangel/angelofbenignmalevolence PROMPT: Gordon/Lady Penelope – Pirate/Mermaid AU prompt submitted by @darkestwolfx for International Rescue & Relief which is being overseen by @gumnut-logic. Also @agentfreelancer1 might enjoy this as well :D

RATING: T

WORD COUNT: 3,573 words Story Notes: This is my first foray into writing fanfiction in awhile so I may be a little rusty. I have used this prompt as a springboard, but I have taken the term “merperson” and applied it quite loosely. And since there was little consensus on the exact terms of the selkie mythology in my research, I have been a little creative with the application of that as well. This is my first foray into writing TAG fanfiction and I’m not entirely sure I didn’t bite off more than I could chew starting with Gordon and Penelope lol. Hopefully this still makes you smile! It turned out a little longer than I expected, so I do apologize for that as well!

~@~

“Hey Gordon, you coming?”

Gordon stood atop a juncture of three rocks near the ocean shore, his hand on his sandy hair as he pursed his lips in thought. He could have sworn he left it here. He looked over to where the eldest of his brothers stood at the shoreline holding his sleek black coat in his hand. Gordon smiled at him. There was no need to worry him just yet.

“Nah,” Gordon said flippantly. “I’m just going to hang around on the shore for a while. I’ve got a few hours left before I need to be home yet.” Scott’s brow furrowed in the way that it always did when he worried. “Just go. I can handle walking around on the shore by myself. I’m a big boy.” Scott looked at the sun hanging low in the sky. Scott sighed but relented.

“Alright Gordon,” he said. “But you need to be off shore by 10, no excuses, alright?” he said. Gordon waved him off.

“Yeah, yeah, no worries!” Gordon said. “Now stop being a worrywart and go enjoy yourself. You’ve got six hours left in your day of freedom. Don’t spend them worrying about me.” He made a shooing motion which smoothed the frown away from his brother’s features.

“10 o’clock, Gordon,” he said. He fluffed out the coat in his arms and pulled it over himself, stepping into the surf. Gordon watched as the coat enfolded his brother’s form, morphing it into his sleek seal shape. Scott moved a bit more into the surf before looking back at his brother one more time. Gordon laughed and made a shooing motion. Scott dove into the waves and Gordon waited until he was sure his brother had swum off before he let out a deep sigh. Six hours until midnight meant that he had four to find his coat before Scott would go into smother-brother mode.

He began to circle the rocks that he had been standing on, looking for where he had stashed his own seal coat, scratching his head as his search yielded nothing. He frowned. He had buried his coat near the rocks for the express point and purpose of not losing the thing and the strategy had worked literally every other time he had come on shore. He scanned the shoreline. Maybe he had buried it under a different set of rocks? But no…there was the rickety staircase that had been abandoned for years. It had to be here.

He began to widen his circle, his toes digging into the sand in the hopes that he would feel the sleek fur against his toes. The wider his circle got, the more worried he became. What if he couldn’t find it? Worse, what if someone had taken it? By selkie law he’d be bound to that person until he could gain his coat back. His brothers had warned him about it and scolded him when he had been too careless with his seal coat. Scott had always had to be so incredibly careful and for once, just once as his worry mounted, he wished he had been as careful as his brother.

He moved around another large rock outcropping and stopped dead in his tracks. Sitting on the beach was a woman, a human woman. He couldn’t help but notice that she was stunning in the light of the setting sun. The other thing he couldn’t help but notice was that she sat with her arms cradling a seal coat.

His seal coat.

Gordon ducked back behind the rocks for a moment to consider his next strategy. He supposed that it would be too much to ask the universe for the young woman to not know the significance of the coat she held in her arms. He let out a breath. Well, he had really put his foot in it this time. He was not ready to give up the sea or the freedom that it offered him, unlike Virgil who had given up his seal coat to a human woman that he had fallen in love with or John who had given his coat to an old sea dog that had promised to teach him the stars and return the coat when John wanted to return to the sea. The sea was everything to him. Perhaps if he appealed to her emotions…

“You know, I saw you earlier. Hiding behind that rock doesn’t make you any less obvious.” The voice was full of good breeding and sophistication. He came around the rocks again with an embarrassed laugh, running his hands through his sandy hair once more.

“Yeah, sorry about that…I didn’t mean to disturb you. I was looking for something,” Gordon said. “Actually, I found it, too.” The young woman raised an eyebrow expectantly. Gordon cleared his throat. “The seal coat…it’s…mine.” He hesitated as he answered, wondering if perhaps this was the wrong way of gaining back his seal coat. The young woman frowned and tightened her arms around the coat.

“I’ve heard lots of stories of men who comb the beach looking for seal coats to bring home an unwitting bride,” she said. Gordon laughed, despite the seriousness of the situation on his part.

“Yeah, believe me, my brother Alan had a pretty close call with that,” he said. The young woman frowned.

“Forcing young women into marriages isn’t funny,” she said, as if she knew from experience. “And I’m going to make sure that this seal coat goes back to the young woman it belongs to.” Gordon’s eyes widened as he realized they were talking about Gordon being the one looking for a bride. He threw back his head and laughed.

“Oh no,” he said as his fit of giggles died down. “You misunderstand me. I’m a selkie. My brother too obviously. All of them. I have several.” He felt the words tumbling out in an awkward rush. Even angry, the woman was very pretty, and he couldn’t help his laughter at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. “Let me start over. My name is Gordon and the seal coat you are holding is mine. As in, I use it to take my seal form.” The young woman frowned in thought as she considered him before loosening her grip on the seal coat, her anger dissipating quickly into something more melancholy.

“Well…this is an unexpected turn of events,” she said. Gordon placed his hands on his hips with a slight smile on his face.

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” he said, hoping to lighten her mood. She shook her head and set the seal coat aside, as if she no longer wanted anything to do with it.

“I’m sorry if I sound disappointed,” she said, her sincerity obvious. “I had been hoping that the coat belonged to a seal maiden. I was protecting it so she wouldn’t be forced into marriage with a human if that wasn’t what she wanted. I never intended to keep the coat for myself. I was just…looking for a friend, I suppose.” Gordon frowned slightly and approached, sitting down on the other side of the coat as Penelope adjusted her skirts.

“Well, just because I’m not a seal girl doesn’t mean we still can’t be friends,” he said. She looked over at him.

“No,” she said after several moments where she looked at him, as if trying to figure out his angle. “I suppose it doesn’t.” Gordon smiled.

“Though, you do have me at a slight disadvantage. I’ll have to start calling you the shore maiden if you don’t give me your name,” he said with a wink. The corner of her lips quirked in a smile.

“I’ve been called worse,” she said. “But my name is Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward.” Gordon smiled and reached for the hand nearest him, bringing the back of it to his lips.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Penelope,” he said. Penelope took back her hand and brushed some hair away from her face.

“I have to admit,” she said. “It’s the first time I’ve ever met a selkie in person,” she said. Gordon leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky above the waves.

“Yeah,” he said. “That doesn’t surprise me. We tend to keep mostly to ourselves. Partially because of the coat thing but also because most humans forget us pretty quickly.” Penelope turned to look at him, intrigued.

“Seems like someone like you would be pretty hard to forget,” she said. Gordon laughed.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, as I’m sure you meant it,” he said, enjoying the blush that rose to her cheeks and thinking that it only made her look prettier. “But yeah…we can’t come on shore very often. It’s part of the whole merfolk life thing.” Penelope frowned.

“That sounds lonely,” she said. Gordon shrugged.

“I mean…it could be worse. I could be one of the finfolk and that would mean I couldn’t come on land at all. That…might suck a little more.” Penelope laughed.

“I can see where that might be a bit more inconvenient for forming friendships,” she said. He nodded.

“Yeah. Besides, seal guys are much cooler than mermen,” he said with a wink, earning another laugh from her. He smiled and let the moment settle before he cleared his throat. “So tell me a little more about yourself.”

“I’m the daughter of Lord Creighton-Ward. And I’m expected to marry well,” she said. Gordon made a face.

“Sounds like an exciting future ahead.” The lack of enthusiasm in his voice was nearly palpable. “If it’s wrong to make a seal girl marry if she’s not in love, it seems to me that a human girl should be given the same…I don’t know…courtesy?”

“One would think,” she said, sliding her feet out of her shoes and letting her toes dip into the sand. Gordon could see the distance in her eyes as she thought ahead to an uncertain future. He knew he had to do something to bring her back from wherever it was she was going in her mind, especially if it had the power to erase the smile from her features.

“What would you want for your future if it was in your hands?” he asked, hoping the suddenness and the personal nature of the question would shock her back to reality. He knew his plan worked when Penelope looked at him, an amused smile lighting up her features.

“You don’t waste any time getting to the point, hmm?” she asked. Gordon shrugged, inwardly celebrating his personal win.

“There’s too little time to waste on small talk, what with the whole ‘can only go on shore so often’ thing,” he said with a grin. “So come on, tell your new friend what you want for your future. I may not be a magic fish, but I know a guy.” He winked at her, causing her to shake her head and look out at the water.

“Hmm…if I could have anything I wanted for my life? I’d like to do something to help those in need. The voices of those less fortunate than I are not often heard. I’d like to be in a position where I would be free to use my voice to help make things better, perhaps be able to actively make the world a better place.” Gordon looked at her. He probably couldn’t say what answer he expected to hear from her if he had been asked, but whatever it was he had expected, it wasn’t that answer. His smile softened into one of admiration. She was such a purely good person. He would consider himself honored to count her among his friends.

“So what’s stopping you?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled over the both of them with her pronouncement. Penelope shrugged.

“Unfortunately, in this day and age, women’s voices aren’t nearly as loud as men’s voices,” she said. Gordon shrugged.

“So make them listen. If anyone can do it, it’s you. I believe in you. You have the freedom to rewrite your future,” he said. “And I’ll be rooting for you. And if there’s ever anything I can do for you, I’m happy to kelp in any way I can.” He grinned at his own joke and Penelope arched an eyebrow, holding the expression for only a moment before allowing herself to laugh.

“That was a terrible joke, Gordon,” she said. He grinned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think that my jokes be the start of a beautiful friendship between the two of us,” he said with a wink.

“I suppose you think they will seal the deal?” she asked, as if resigned that the joke was going to come out one way or the other, and she might as well beat him to the punch. Gordon’s eyes lit up.

“Say, that was pretty quick,” he said. “I think even my brothers might have approved of that. I’m just mad I didn’t get there first.” Penelope smoothed her skirt with a smile.

“Will you tell me about your brothers?” she asked. He nodded and started to regale her with tales of their exploits in the open ocean and some of the more humorous stories. He didn’t notice as the sun set below the horizon and night crept over them, the hour growing later and later.

“And then of course, there’s Alan. He’s the baby of the family. And like I said, he was the one that had a close call with his seal coat. He-” Gordon began, but a grumpy seal cry cut him off, causing both Gordon and Penelope to jump. Perched on a rock was a very annoyed looking black seal. Penelope looked at Gordon.

“One of your brothers, I take it?” Gordon put a hand on the back of his head, his cheeks pinkening. It sure was one of his brothers; a very upset eldest brother who looked like he was about ready to drown Gordon in the surf for forgetting about the time. He waved awkwardly at the seal.

“Oh hey, Scott. That time already?” he asked. The seal vocalized angrily. Gordon laughed and turned back to his new friend. “I suppose this means that my time is up. I’ve got to head back into the water.” He got up and offered a hand to Penelope to help her to her feet. Once both of them were standing, he picked up his seal coat and shook off the sand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Penelope,” he said. “And I hope to see you again when I come back on shore.” Penelope nodded.

“You’d better. You owe me a story,” she said. She moved closer to him as he batted away the sand from his seal coat. She leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek before she slid on her shoes and started to head up the beach once more. Gordon placed a hand over his cheek and smiled.

“I do indeed,” he muttered to himself. The moment was interrupted as the seal behind him barked at him and he shook his head.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, Scott. Keep your coat on,” he said, sliding into his seal fur and following his brother back into the surf with one last look up the beach at Penelope’s retreating form.

~@~

Gordon lay on one of the rocks that jut from beneath the ocean outside Tracy cove, sunning himself as he watched the sky. His seal coat was tucked safely beneath him. His thoughts strayed back to Penelope and the few hours they had spent together on the beach only a few weeks ago. He doubted he would ever see the feisty blonde again, but he knew that he could never forget her. She had given him his freedom despite obviously wanting to keep him by her side. And he had almost considered staying with her, but the ocean had a siren’s call all its own. No matter how much Penelope had drawn him towards land with her own siren’s call, they had both known that he would never have been able to drown out the call of the sea.

He let out a deep sigh. Man, sometimes the extended time between their visits to shore sucked hardcore. He already had begun to miss the easy companionship with his human friend. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the ocean: the waves lapping against the rocks, the call of the sea birds that flew and dived for their meals, the creaking of a boat as it rocked on the….

Wait a second. Gordon sat bolt upright. Boats never came this close to the cove where he and his brothers had made their home. The sailors that ventured out this far into the ocean called the place Hullshatter Cove for a reason. He looked out over the ocean and sure enough, a boat was making its way in the direction of the cove. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, wondering if he hadn’t gone sea mad, but the boat remained where it was. He got to his feet, gathering up his coat and frowning. He had to keep the boat from coming into the cove somehow.

He pulled his coat over his body, feeling the transformation as he leapt into the water. His seal body cut through the water swiftly and in no time at all, he was at the side of the boat. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to do to stop them, but he had to try. He looked up to consider his next move when a lifeboat dropped, the craft hitting the water so close to his head that if his reflex to dive hadn’t been quite so quick, he would have been seeing stars. His head surfaced again as he stared at the small craft. Gordon wasn’t one to look a gift horse, or boat for that matter, in the mouth. He jumped into the lifeboat, letting out a series of barks to warn the sailors of the impending danger.

Underneath him the small boat lurched as it began to be hoisted up on deck. Gordon realized that he may not have thought this plan entirely through, but there was no turning back now. He allowed himself to be hoisted to ship level, where he jumped onto the deck and barked at anyone who came near him, trying desperately to call their attention to the dangers that awaited them as they floated closer to the island.

“Now is that any way to behave?” Gordon froze, his head whipping around. He knew that voice. There stood Penelope. Gone were the skirts and trappings of high society. Instead she wore trousers and a long captain’s coat, and Gordon couldn’t deny that the look somehow suited the young woman more than the skirts ever would. She looked comfortable and happy in a way she hadn’t when last he saw her. “You can close your mouth, Gordon,” she said. He snapped his jaw shut, having been unaware of when it had dropped open. He began to shed his coat, taking human form there on the deck of the ship and looking at her with wide eyes.

“Penelope? But…how…why…?” Gordon wasn’t sure what question he wanted to ask first. Penelope shook her head.

“Why? For you, of course,” she said. Gordon’s expression went from puzzled to completely bewildered.

“Me?”

“Yes,” she said. “You longed for the freedom of the sea, and I decided that I wanted a taste of that for myself. So I pulled a few strings and got myself a letter of marque to sail the sea. I was hoping I would find you again.” Gordon’s heart melted. She had done all of this…for him?

“Penelope…I…don’t know what to say…” Penelope waved a hand dismissively.

“The only thing that you have to say is that you are going to give me the full story about your brother and his near marriage miss. You said that you couldn’t come on shore again for quite some time and I wasn’t willing to wait that long. So if you couldn’t come on shore, I would come to the sea,” she said. Gordon stood frozen for a moment as he processed her words. Never before in collective selkie memory had a human made the attempt to figure out a loophole to remain close to a selkie companion on their terms. He laughed, happy tears threatening to make their way to his eyes. He moved forward to her and wrapped her in his arms, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you, Penelope…thank you so much…this means the world to me…and I promise…I’ll tell you all the stories you want…” he said. She smiled up at him, her arms draping around his waist as well.

“Good,” she said. Neither of them moved for several moments, allowing themselves to just be in each other’s company before she pulled back slightly and smiled up at him, moving her hands to his chest. “Now what say you and I go have a bite to eat and you make good on your promise?” Gordon nodded, willing to follow his feisty little captain anywhere, letting her guide him toward the lower decks. He stooped for only a moment to pick up his seal coat before taking her hand.

“Well you see, Alan’s near brush with marriage all started when…”

#thunderbirds are go #gordon tracy #Lady Penelope #scott tracy #alan tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #irrelief #irrelief2020 #one of mine #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my aesthetic boards

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alj4890 · 4 years

Text

New Year's Eve

A Choices Fan Fiction of The Royal Romance, Red Carpet Diaries, and Perfect Match

A/N Oh my this thing is so long and still not finished, LOL! I believe I should have it completed with part three. Maybe an epilogue post. I have to stop now or this will end up beyond my control. But here again is some of @krsnlove ‘s favorite pairs in the stickiest of fluff worthy of a toothache.

Masterlist

@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @hopefulmoonobject @krsnlove @annekebbphotography @gibbles82 @cora-nova @bella-ca @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @desiree-0816 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @moodyvalentinestories @emceesynonymroll @dr-nancy-house @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @pixieferry @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker .

Song: What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

Part 1

Part 2: The Anticipation

December 30th...

The Garden restaurant at The Four Seasons...

"You've got your gown, right?" Maxwell asked.

Amanda nodded while pouring her tea. She reached for a warm blueberry muffin to butter and nearly dropped it when she saw Thomas Hunt being led to a table.

"What is it?" Maxwell looked over his shoulder.

"Nothing." She quickly replied. "So, have you heard anymore about who has been invited?"

He nodded. "We have a conglomeration of diplomats, nobles,--"

"The usual." Amanda muttered.

"And artists--"Maxwell tried to continue.

"Naturally with Joelle's artistic streak." She muttered again.

"And people from Hollywood." He said in a rush before she could interrupt him again.

That caught her attention. "Really?"

"Yes." Maxwell reached for the pot of coffee. "Joelle and Hakim are friends with actors like Jessica Clark, and um, who is that guy that directed Victoria Fontaine in Meridian?"

"Thomas Hunt." Amanda replied, immediately looking over at the man.

Thomas picked up his coffee cup and looked around the restaurant. His eyes widened a moment when he met her hazel.

"Oh dear Lord." Amanda whispered.

"What?" Maxwell turned around again. He looked down at his shirt then touched his face. "Is something on me?"

"No." Amanda set her half eaten muffin down. "Excuse me a moment." She slid out of the booth and tried to not look over at Thomas as she walked toward the restroom.

She would have succeeded in appearing calm and collected if she hadn't tripped over a lady's purse and tumbled down the five steps leading out of the restaurant.

Please let me die, she silently prayed when she heard the gasps and exclamations around her.

"Are you hurt?"

She closed her eyes at the pain in her ankle and nodded. "I'm fine." She looked into Thomas's concerned face and tried to stand up. "I'm--" she gasped when she put weight on her right ankle.

"You're not." He argued. He gently helped her to sit down on the step.

Maxwell rushed over. "I heard the commotion and thought it might be you." He nodded a greeting toward Thomas. "How bad is it?"

Amanda wondered if her face would ever regain its once pale complexion. "I think I merely sprained my ankle. Nothing to be concerned with."

"Oh good." Maxwell exhaled. "Then you won't miss out on the ball."

Thomas frowned as he carefully pressed at the swelling already forming. "I believe you should have this looked at."

"I assure you I am well acquainted with sprains and that is definitely one. Just a rather painful one." She held onto the railing and pulled herself up. She then calmly reassured the lady who's purse she tripped over and the manager that she was fine.

"I think I will go to my room." She told Maxwell to finish eating and turned to Thomas once her friend left. "Please go and enjoy your breakfast. I will be fine as soon as I get to my room."

"You need to elevate it and add ice." Thomas told her.

"I will." She promised. She reached out and took his hand. "Thank you for coming to my aid." She felt his fingers grip her hand and looked down in surprise.

"I will escort you back." He told her. "Since your friend is now elbows deep in pancakes, you need someone to help you." He motioned to the manager and had him cancel his order.

"No!" Amanda said in a firm tone. She recognized he would not budge on this and spoke to the manager. "Have Mr. Hunt's breakfast sent up to my room." She gave her room number and insisted on it being charged to her. "And add a pot of tea, coffee, and a basket of pastries."

Thomas let go of her hand and placed his arm around her waist. "Lean on me instead of that ankle."

She nodded, suddenly speechless, and allowed him to escort her back.

___________________

Near a gangplank in Liberty State Park...

Riley yawned behind her hand as she stood on tiptoe to look at the passing people.

"This is crazy." She muttered. "I'm willing to give up precious sleep to take some guy to the Statue of Liberty just so he won't feel so alone."

"Riley!" Liam called out, smiling when he saw her.

So handsome, she thought. "Hey Liam!" She took his arm and motioned toward the ferry. "Ready to see her up close?"

"I am." He replied. He knew deep down he should tell her who he was, but he had enjoyed the conversation they had late into the early morning hours. He just wanted another moment to be around her sunny optimism. He wanted her to treat him as just some average, normal guy.

"Our boat awaits." She tugged him along the gangplank. "Are you up for some Lady Liberty trivia?"

"I am." Liam smiled as she became more animated to try and make the history more interesting.

"Well, did you know that the Statue of Liberty resembles the Roman goddess, Libertas, who represents freedom from oppression and tyranny?" She asked, reaching out to smooth his coat's lapels.

"I did not." His voice was a touch deeper with the emotion he felt for such an innocent yet significant action.

Liam watched her closely, taking in all her mannerisms. She had a tendency to use her hands when discussing something she was passionate about. She kept her body turned toward his as they chose a bench to sit. Her knees were pressed against his as she gave him her complete attention.

He set his arm along the back of seat while sharing bits of history he knew of the Statue. Her eyes never once left his face. She laughed at his humor and he found himself fall even more under her enchantment.

He had not known such simple happiness existed. It was if his true self had woken from a deep slumber and realized there was a world out there, one with someone like her.

_______________

On this same ferry...

"Here you go." Rashad handed Hana a cup of hot chocolate he had purchased.

"Thank you." She softly replied. She took a sip of the watery drink and tried not to grimace at its dull flavor. "That was very sweet of you."

"I remembered you saying it is one of your favorite treats." He leaned against the railing of the upper deck and looked out at the water, enjoying this moment with her.

"How thoughtful." She mumbled, cradling the cup between her chilled hands. "And completely unnecessary."

Rashad turned back in surprise. "I..."

"Please do not take me for a complete fool." Hana pleaded. She tried to keep her voice from wavering. Why did he have to be so incredibly kind? Why did she have to like everything about him? "This is not the first time one of my father's business associates has decided to, for lack of a better term, court me in hopes of making my father happy, thus reaching a satisfying deal."

"Hana, I didn't--" Rashad tried to explain.

"I'm not a pawn to be sacrificed in such a manner." She snapped. "I have feelings and I do not want you to continue to manipulate me through them. Let's just part ways once we are back on land and meet up at the party. I will assure my parents you were a perfect gentleman and everything will go well."

"Hana, the business deal is already completed. There are no more negotiations or hold outs or whatever else you're imagining." Rashad took her cup out of her hands and set it on a bench. He then took her hands in his. "Yes, your father coerced me into bringing you."

Hana tried to pull away, not wanting to hear anymore. Who would ever want her if her parents continued to do this?

"But..."Rashad continued, looking down at her beautiful face.

She looked up at him. "But?"

He tugged her closer. "If I had met you before he suggested our attending together, I would have coerced him into letting me bring you as my date."

________________

Outside the shops along 5th Avenue...

"We've found your dress, shoes, mask, and way too many other things. Where to now or am I free from shopping?" Damien asked.

"Umm..." Nadia stalled.

"Um, what?" He asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Nadia, what are you about to talk me into?"

"A tea?" She replied timidly.

"As in buying you a glass of tea?" He asked.

"As in escorting me to an afternoon hosted by Duchess Joelle." Nadia looked up at him with a look of desperation. "It is for the artists she wishes to know better."

"Nadia." He dropped his head back. "Why am I just now hearing about this?"

"Because I love you and didn't want you to dread being around me as we shopped." She admitted.

Damien hefted her bags and waved down a taxi. "Get in." He ordered.

"Damien..." She bit her lip in worry.

"Well come on." His smirk formed. "We better get to my place so you can pick what I'm supposed to wear to an afternoon tea."

She jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight.

_______________

The Four Seasons, Amanda' suite...

Amanda sat with her foot propped on a throw pillow and wrapped in ice. She watched Thomas go about giving orders to both the staff and those he had traveled with.

He hadn't stopped in trying to divert her attention during their shared breakfast with talk of films and such. He then had insisted he wrap her ankle with the ice pack, setting timers to make certain to remove it once ten minutes was up. She didn't know what to think of his actions.

"Yes” Thomas said with a hint of impatience as he paced while talking on the phone. “Tell Joelle something unexpected came up this morning that demanded my attention. I'm well aware I'm not in my room right now." He looked down at Amanda. "Yes, it is something important." He said goodbye and then picked up her room phone.

"Send up more ice." He covered the receiver. "Do you want anything?"

"Some iced tea would be nice." She said.

"Iced tea for two. Better bring an extra carafe." He hung up and sat back down beside her.

"This is all very kind," Amanda began, "but I don't want you to feel that you should cancel any plans you've made. I will be fine."

He leaned forward and checked her ankle. Bruising was already forming and it was now nearly the size of a naval orange. "You can't get around easily and you should not be attempting to right now." He removed the ice pack when his alarm went off.

Amanda sighed softly. "I better call Maxwell and tell him he has to go to the tea alone." She searched for her phone and frowned slightly. "Where did I..."

Thomas held his phone toward her. "Call it and we will find it."

She dialed her number and eyes widened at the sound of Maxwell answering. "How did you get my phone?"

"You left it at the table." He replied. "I thought I could give it to you when I come by on the way to the tea. You're not going to believe who I saw once you left! Jessica Clark! I got her autograph and took a selfie with your phone."

"Max!" She interrupted him describing his meeting Matt Rodriguez. "I'm not going to be able to go to the tea."

"No! Drake and Olivia both said they weren't either and I can't get a hold of Liam." Maxwell pleaded with her. "Isn't there some way you can hobble in there. I'll make certain you get a comfy chair."

"Tell him, no." Thomas said once he saw her wavering.

"Who's that?" Maxwell asked when he heard the voice. "Is Thomas Hunt still with you?!"

"Yes." Amanda responded. "He has been sweet in helping me care for my ankle, which is still incredibly swollen. I can't put a shoe on easily much less walk around in heels right now." She looked up at the ceiling as she admitted the next part. "And it looks like I won't be dancing at the ball."

Maxwell groaned. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was that bad. Need me to skip the tea too and bring you something? A doctor to add to your handsome man collection you got going on in there?"

She laughed. "No thank you. Please make my excuses to her grace."

"Alright. I'll still come by and drop your phone off. Maybe a miracle will have occurred with your favorite director caring personally for you."

Color flared on her cheeks when she noticed that Thomas heard that. "Thanks Maxwell. I will see you soon." She handed Thomas back his phone. "Thank you."

He nodded on his way to answer the door. He had the tray set on the table and then tipped the porter. He poured them both a glass of tea before settling back on the couch. "Now that all that has been taken care of," he said. "Would you like me to try and find us something to watch or shall we pick up where we left off in our discussion?"

She looked up at him. "Thomas, you shouldn't feel obligated to entertain me. You've already done so much."

He turned more toward her. "Perhaps I should explain something about myself."

She lifted an eyebrow for him to continue.

"I do not do these," he motioned toward her ankle, "type of tender mercies."

Confusion marked her features. "But you--"

Thomas stopped her by taking her hand. "With you though, I can't think of anything else I would rather do right now than to try and take care of you."

_______________

At the top of the Statue of Liberty...

"It's..." Liam looked out toward the city in awe. "Breathtaking."

Riley smiled at his reaction. "It really is."

"Do you come here often?" He asked, still lost at looking at the snow covered city."

"Not really. This is more of a tourist thing." She explained.

"I think I would have a hard time staying away." He admitted.

"Liam?"

They both turned around.

"Rashad?" Liam shook his hand and tried to stop Hana from dropping into a formal curtsy.

"Your majesty, it is an honor to meet you." She said.

"Majesty?" Riley looked at Liam. "Why did she call you that?"

"Riley, I can explain." He quickly said. "I am the King of Cordonia and--"

"King of Cordonia?" Her eyes narrowed. "Being a king must mean you have a number of subjects, staff, people at your beck and call?"

"Yes but--"

"But you decided to lie to a poor waitress and tell her how lonely you were." She snapped. Tears of humiliation filled her eyes. "I can't believe I decided you would be worth me working exhausted tonight." She jerked her hand from his grasp. "Goodbye, your majesty!"

"Riley!" He chased her back down the stairs. "Stop! If you will give me a chance to explain."

She brushed at the tears as she hurried down the spiral staircase. "Don't speak to me!" She yelled back at him. "I don't ever want to speak to you again!"

He continued his pursuit, pleading with her to listen.

"My father died and my brother abdicated." He said once they were past a group of people heading up. "I never expected to be king."

She tried to ignore him as she hurried down.

"Yes I have friends that I am close to and yes there are a number of associates and such that come to the palace. Yet, knowing my chances to find someone I could care for seemed impossible." He picked up his pace, huffing and puffing at the speed she was going. "That feeling was what made me realize how lonely it is to be given such responsibility over an entire country. One misstep and I could harm the livelihood of my people."

Riley began to slow somewhat as more tears fell. She didn't want to be moved by his explanation.

"If I do find someone I love, how can I ask her to live a life of endless pressure? A life where I could possibly lose her as my father lost my mother. How could I live with myself after that?" He stopped and ssat down on a step. He covered his face with his hands and slowly let them drop. "You're right. I should have told you from the beginning who I was officially. Know this." He peeked down at her.

Riley stopped and looked up at him, tears still forming.

"I let you know the real me last night. The man who wears the crown." He stood up and started walking down toward her. "And that man could not resist the chance of spending another moment with you."

Riley took a deep breath and slowly released it. "Anything else you decided to leave out?"

He paused in shaking his head. "Well, perhaps one."

She folded her arms. "And that is?"

"Would you like to go with me to a masquerade ball tomorrow night?"

________________

Afternoon tea at The Garden, The Four Seasons...

"Well, she seems..." Damien tried to find the word.

"Nice." Nadia decided.

"I was going for something more to describe her artistic temperament, but yeah, she seems okay." He muttered.

"Should we mingle?" She asked gripping his arm.

"This is all your call." He whispered. "I haven't one clue how to act right now."

"I--" her words died when she saw the man with the extraordinary blue eyes walk in. He was greeted affectionately by the duchess hosting them and by a few other nobles.

"He's here!" Nadia gasped.

"Who?" Damien looked around the room. "Ryan Summers? Yeah, I saw him when we first walked in.."

Nadia whipped around. "How did I miss seeing him?"

"I don't know. Should we sit? I think we should. That duchess woman seems to be encouraging everyone to take a seat." Damien pushed Nadia toward a nearby table. He looked down at the fragile china and lace table cloth. "Why did I agree to this?"

Nadia stared at the man she had trouble not day dreaming about. He was walking their way while smiling and greeting those he passed. He looked up and made eye contact with her. His delighted dimpled smile appeared. He hurried over and eyed Damien in question.

"Don't worry. I'm just the friend." Damien told him, a slight smile forming. "Nadia here, is single and thinks your eyes are not blue but a mixture of blues. She also loves your dimples." He reached for the teapot and filled his cup. He sat back in his cushioned chair with a satisfied smirk.

Nadia wanted to die on the spot. "Why?" She asked the man she once thought was her best friend.

He leaned close to whisper. "Time waits for no one. Don't be afraid to let him know you're attracted to him. What have you got to lose?" He nudged her with his elbow. "Go for it.”

She squeezed his hand and turned to Maxwell. "Hi."

His dimples deepened with his smile. "Hi." He motioned to the empty chair beside her. "Mind if I sit here?"

"Not at all." She answered. Nadia cleared her throat. "Um, are you a noble?"

"Yes, sorry." Maxwell shook himself out of thinking how cute she was. "Lord Maxwell Beaumont, younger brother to Bertrand, the Duke of Ramsford." He leaned a little closer toward her. "Are you an artist or an actress?"

"Artist. I'm Nadia Park. This is my best friend, Damien Nazario."

"Don't mind me." Damien replied while looking down at his phone. "I'm here for protection."

Maxwell leaned away from her. "I see."

"He's teasing." She quickly said, kicking Damien under the table. "Tell him."

"I'm teasing." He grunted when she kicked him again. "I'm the one in need of protection from short people."

_______________

AMC Orpheum 7 Movie Theater...

"Do you feel guilty?" Drake asked once they picked a spot to sit.

"For what?" Olivia reached for her box of candy and reclined back in her chair.

"For missing the tea." He settled comfortably back in his own chair. He turned away from the movie screen showing ads and waited on her to respond.

"Not at all. Why I was invited is a mystery." She opened her box and offered him some. "The only art I appreciate are the ones that show historical battles."

Drake chuckled while settling the popcorn between them. "That's why I picked Tommy Phelps's latest movie."

"You know, Amanda says that his movies lack a storyline with any depth or emotion. She thinks his films are nothing but an excuse for a man to continue to play with fireworks." Olivia turned to see how he would react to that being said about a director of who's movies he rarely missed.

Drake rolled his eyes. "Who needs depth when you got a character taking out the enemies trying to destroy his or her life?"

"I'll drink to that." She lifted her soda and took a sip. "So what are you most looking forward to in this one?"

He slipped his hand in hers. "Other than your company, the fight choreography is supposed to have been created by a former Navy Seal. I want your input on it."

Olivia's smile brightened. "Excellent. There is nothing I like better than to critique someone's fighting style."

"Better than some tea?" He asked, pressing a kiss to her neck as the lights went out.

"Much better." She replied turning to kiss him.

__________________

Early evening, Amanda's suite...

"Hello?" Thomas said in a low voice.

"Alright, where are you?" Holly demanded. "You have been MIA all day and now you aren't even back for dinner! What is going on?"

He gently smoothed the hair out of Amanda's face as she moved in her sleep against hin. "I can't go into it right now. Go on and enjoy your evening out. I will most likely order room service."

"How?! How are you going to do that when you aren't even in your room?" She snapped. Ryan tried to get her to calm down. She glared at him but took a deep breath. "Sorry. I don’t mean to snap. That tea was not only dull but only provided sandwiches that were small enough to be barely visible to the naked eye.”

Thomas curved his arm around Amanda as her head dropped off his shoulder. "Go to dinner without me. I will call later." He ended the call and turned his body more to make the lady who fell asleep on him more comfortable.

Her phone ringing a few minutes later had them both jump. She blinked sleepily at it and him. "I'm sorry." She mumbled. "I didn't mean to doze off."

"Your response was appropriate. It was a boring movie we were watching." He told her, his lips curving at her sleep induced bemusement.

She checked the missed call and brushed her hair out of her face. "I really don't feel like explaining my ankle again." She mumbled.

Thomas stood up to stretch. "Then don't."

"I have to explain why I'm not going out to dinner. My friends rarely accept a simple, go without me." She explained.

He chuckled while calling for more ice. "Send one of those text messages. I hate the things but desperate times and all that."

Her lips trembled with suppressed laughter. "I don't think I have ever heard of someone who hates text messages."

"You can't properly read inflection in a text, no matter how many of those weird pictures one uses." He explained.

A laugh escaped her lips. "Weird pictures?"

He grabbed his phone and pulled up a message from Addison as an example. "Those." He pointed at the small yellow faces in different moods.

"Emojis." She said for him.

"Yes." His eyes narrowed while a frown formed as he tried to decipher Addison’s latest message. "Their very name evokes a desire within me to throw this piece of technology out the window."

Her laughter brought a slight smile to his face. She shook her head and composed a brief group text telling them she would not be going to dinner and for them to question Maxwell. "There, and just in honor of you, I did not use one single," her eyes shined with mirth, "weird picture."

"I and I am sure countless others appreciate that." He picked up a room service menu and brought it over to read with her.

She pushed her unruly hair out of her face and turned some toward him, "Thomas, you have been stuck in here with me all day. Part of which, I am ashamed to say, I fell asleep on you. Do go out and enjoy yourself with your friends this evening."

"I have not been stuck here." He corrected, while reading over the entrees. "My room is down the hall and I could have easily left to return to it if I wished." His dark eyes cut to her face. "I chose to remain here and am offering to buy you dinner." He leaned closer with the menu. "Now what would you like?"

She remained in quiet study of his profile for a moment, then reached over to squeeze his hand in gratitude. She knew he would dismiss her words once more if she tried to thank him. A surprised smile formed on her face when he held on to it. She rested her head back on his shoulder and pointed out a few options from the menu that they could share.

________________

Liam's penthouse, The Four Seasons...

"Where have you been?" Maxwell demanded of the three when he walked in. "I have been on noble duty all day! It ended up being a valuable lesson: Liam, I will never try and take the throne from you." He collapsed face first on the sofa. "I'm exhausted."

"What happened to Amanda?" Olivia asked.

"She tripped at breakfast and fell down some stairs, sprained her ankle, and somehow managed to have Thomas Hunt as her personal in room nurse." He explained. "Now where were you?"

"I didn't feel like talking about art." Olivia replied. "So I spent the day around the city doing what I wanted to do."

Maxwell turned suspicious eyes to Drake. "And you?"

Drake rolled his eyes. "Since when do I voluntarily go to afternoon teas?"

"Good point. Liam?" Maxwell turned to be able to see him.

"I went to the Statue of Liberty today." He admitted with a hint of sadness. "I lost track of time." He stood up and went toward the window. "How did it go?"

"Fine." Maxwell replied, yawning. "Everyone seemed to either enjoy it or too nervous to admit otherwise."

“Good.” Liam muttered. When he noticed his three friends looking at him with worry, he forced a smile. “Where shall we eat tonight?”

________________

Later that night at the Ty Bar of The Four Seasons...

"Let me see if I understand this." Daniel said while mixing the drinks for a table filled with famous people. "The guy that was in here last night is a king?"

"Yes." Riley said.

"And you spent the day with him as a tour guide of sorts?" He asked.

She nodded while yawning.

"He then, like Prince Charming, asks you to a ball tomorrow night?" Daniel poured a few more.

"Yes." Riley muttered.

"And you said NO?!" Daniel looked at her incredulously.

"That's right." She picked up the tray and walked away.

_______________

At a table in Ty Bar of the Four Seasons...

"It's weird." Holly continued. "I know Thomas avoids a lot of things, but to just be missing all day and night..." She thanked the waitress and took a sip of her drink.

"Maybe not so weird." Ryan nodded toward the man walking into the bar. "If the king is here, then most likely that woman Thomas was staring at is--"

Addison whipped around in her chair.

"You're going to get whiplash if you keep doing that." Seth teased.

"Addison." Matt muttered.

"What? I had to see what he had on. You know I love fashion." She explained.

"And Liam." Jessica added, dodging the balled up cocktail napkin thrown her way.

“He’s all alone.” Addison pointed out. “Should we invite him to sit with us?”

“We could.” Ryan said at the same time Matt said, no.

Addison jumped up and dragged Matt with her. “Come on. He’s from out of town and all alone. He looks like he could use a friend.”

Once they were near Liam, her nerve froze and she couldn’t think of what to say.

Matt rolled his eyes and cleared his throat. “Excuse us, but we were wondering if you would like to join our table. We are part of Duchess Joelle’s guests for New Year’s.”

Liam looked up and noticed that Riley was working the section their table was and nodded. “I would love to.”

A muffled squeak escaped Addison’s lips.

Matt made the introductions once they were all seated.

Liam smiled at them. “I am a fan of many of your movies.”

“I have made a number of great ones.” Seth joked.

“Two. He’s made two movies.” Holly muttered.

Laughter and conversation flowed among the group with Liam mostly listening.

“Your majesty,” Addison began once her brain had regained control over her mouth.

“Just Liam, please..” He said with a warm encouraging smile.

“Oh!” her hand raised to her heart. ”Liam, are you looking forward to tomorrow night’s ball?”

“We’re all excited.” Jessica added.

“I--” He paused when Riley came by to check on them.

“Is there anything else I can--” she stared in surprise at Liam. “get you?”

“I could use a refill.” Seth handed his glass to her. “Another margarita please.”

“Sure.” She dragged her eyes away from Liam’s face. “Anyone else?”

The group looked back and forth at her and Liam.

“We’re good.” Ryan replied to cut the tension.

Once she walked away, Holly turned toward Liam. “You okay? Seems like there was something there between you two.”

“I asked her to the ball.” Liam admitted then shook his head in regret. “It is of no matter. I should be going. It was a pleasure meeting you all and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night.” He gave a short bow and left.

“What do you think happened?” Jessica asked.

“I don’t know but it wasn’t good.” Addison turned around toward where Riley was last seen. “I’ll be back.”

She hurried over to the bar and smiled at the bartender. “Hello.”

Daniel smiled at her. “What can I get for you?”

“Um, our waitress, do you know where she went?” She asked.

“She wasn’t feeling well and went home.” He explained.

“Oh.” Addison noticed his slight frown. “Did she leave because of Liam?”

His head shot up. “Did he say something to upset her?”

Over at the table the group watched Addison work her magic of getting information out of people.

“She missed her calling.” Matt said when he noticed both her and the bartender smile. “She should have been an interrogator for the CIA.”

Addison ran back over. “Come on. We have work to do.”

“What happened to our vacation?” Seth whined.

“No rest for the wicked.” Ryan told him.

“We have to find a dress.” Addison explained. “We have just become fairy godmothers.”

#choices the royal romance #choices red carpet diaries #choices perfect match #new year's eve prompt

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mashafootball · 5 years

Text

Emotional Drunk (Julian Brandt Imagine)

A/N: This one was “requested” by an anon (I really like the prompt of you & ju never really talking about marriage and kids but one day you come home drunk and talk about having his babies lol idk)

I changed it a bit (Julian coming home drunk instead of Y/N), but if you “insist” on your request, you can message me again and I can write another one or a part 2 or something like that.

Enjoy! Short Julian Brandt FLUFF

You let out a frustrated groan as you skipped through the Instagram-story of your boyfriend’s brother while brushing your teeth. “You can’t be serious...”, you mumbled to yourself as you saw a short sequence of Julian dancing around the club, completely out of his mind. Even though you expected Julian to let a little loose while he could enjoy some off-time, you didn’t even dare to think about drunk, silly Julian dancing around a club looking like a maniac. Due to the fact that you have been together with this maniac for more than three years already you knew that he probably had about three beers, maybe four. Because believe it or not Julian Brandt, tall, handsome, fit – couldn’t handle alcohol, at all! You still remember that one time where he had two glasses of champagne on New Year’s Eve and half an hour later you were tugging him into his bed, kissing his forehead and wishing him a good night. Being able to watch Julian being drunk (or at least a little drunk) was quite something and somehow you always enjoyed observing him as soon as he started to act ‘a little funny’ (as he usually liked to call his behavior the following day), but not being there with him made you feel a little uneasy.

“Watch out for him and stop posting stories, Jan.”, you texted Jannis after hopping into bed, taking the book you are currently reading with you. “Ok mum.” You scrunched up your nose at his reply, shaking your head slightly. “Do you need me to pick you up later?” After sending the last text you started reading your book, diving into the storyline, forgetting about your phone completely. As you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier by the minute you put the book back on its place on your nightstand, grabbing your phone and turning off the bedside lamp. “We wi take as taxsi.”, you read Jannis reply, not really knowing if you should laugh or cry. Every single event that involved Jannis usually ended pretty bad, most of the time really funny, but still also bad. That boy truly is a party animal and while Julian is more the relaxed, ‘I enjoying staying at home’ type of guy, he often let Jannis force him to attend parties he normally would never even think about. “Ok. Stay safe! And please take care of Ju!” Despite you knowing that Jannis was probably already too drunk to even take care of himself, you really hoped that he would watch out for crazy, drunk Julian.

You tossed and turned for a while in the big bed, hating the feeling of falling asleep alone but after some time tiredness took over and you finally fell asleep.

All of a sudden there was a muffled sound coming from your flat’s hallway, awakening you immediately. For a few moments you didn’t really know what to do, your breathing was way to heavy and you could feel your heart hammer against your chest. Still confused from having slept almost a minute prior you took a look at Julian’s side of the bed, preparing yourself for waking him so he could protect you from whatever just entered the flat. “Oh.” You had to stop yourself from chuckling as you got out of bed, your feet shuffling on the cold floor as you walked out of the bedroom.

“Y/N!”, Julian exclaimed happily as soon as he saw you, stumbling towards you ready to embrace you in a hug. “Julian.”, you said with a disgusted look on your face “You stink.” You could see the smile leaving his face as soon as you said it, making you regret what you had just told him. How could you forget that he always gets extra vulnerable and emotional after a few drinks? “What’s that – what do you mean?”, he shook his head, giving you a confused look. “Nothing, Schatz. Come on, let’s get you into the shower.”, you said instead offering him your hand while your other one stroked his neck. “No.”, he furrowed his eyebrows, puckering his lips as he looked at you, “What do you mean?” You could see the confusion written all over his face, almost making you laugh, but you reminded yourself that laughing would probably make him cry right now. “You smell of alcohol Ju, that’s what I meant. Now come on!”, you tried pulling him with you, but he just wouldn’t move. Rather than giving him, he pulled himself away from your grip, slowly tumbling towards your sofa. “Julian...”, you tried again, walking over to the couch, standing next to him. “Aren’t you tired? Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“Y/N you don’t take me seriously.”, he sighed laying back on the couch and closing his eyes. “Of course, I do Julian.”, you tried to reason him, only making him sigh again. “No, you don’t.”, he gave you a stern look, almost making you feel bad. You tried to suppress your grin as you took a seat next to him, reaching over to smooth his hair back. Even though you could feel your boyfriend relaxing into your touch, his stern look just didn’t stop. “Tell me one..one one thing, Y/N.”, he slurred while raising a finger at you.

“Yes, Julian?”, you let out a yawn, realizing just now how late (or rather early) it already was. “Y/N.”, he whined as he saw that you took a look at the clock behind him. “Yes, Julian!” You shot him a smile, continuously stroking up and down his back, “What is it?”, you tried encouraging him to say whatever he wanted to say but it seemed like he was struggling with finding the right words.

“Y/N Y/L/N” You raised your eyebrows at him as he said your full name, “If I asked you right n- right now, here on this sofa. Yes?”, you nodded your head, not really understanding what his point was. “Would you..”, he reached out to scratch his neck, something he usually only does when he’s quite nervous, “If I asked you here on this beige sofa Y/N would you marry me?”, he looked at you hopefully, his right hand still gripping his neck. You weren’t really sure what you were supposed to say, because you couldn’t really tell how he would react to whatever you could say. “Julian.”, you giggled, placing your arm around his wide shoulders, “you are so drunk, Liebling.”, while you continued you smiling, Julian didn’t look happy at all, his eyes glistening dangerously. “What?”, he muttered at the loss of his words, “No?”, his sad puppy eyes falling on your face. You let out a shaky breath, once again not really sure if you shouldn’t laugh or cry. “We could talk about that another time, yeah? I think you would actually plan your proposal a little different.” But Julian didn’t seem very happy with your answer. “Can’t you accept me the way I am?”, the look he had in his eyes almost breaking your heart. Thankfully, he was just drunk, otherwise you would have died on the spot because his puppy eyes were just too much to handle. “What are you talking about? Of course, I accept you the way you are. Julian it’s late and we should both head off to bed now, so come on, I will help you with everything.”, you promised, but he still didn’t start moving.

“You know, Y/N. Y/N I always think about having babies with you. But I guess that will not work.”, he swallowed, “now because in ‘your opinion’”, he put ‘your opinion’ in quotation marks with his hands, “I stink.”

You were well aware of the fact that Julian was completely drunk. Way too drunk to be taken seriously, but still, his words made your heart flutter a bit, because even though you two had been together for quite a while, you never really talked about marriage and kids before. As you looked at him, looking more tired than ever and also very unhappy and nervous, you couldn’t help but fall in love with him all over again. The sad look in his eyes as you ‘denied’ his ‘proposal’ made butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Julian.”, you said softly, taking his big shaking hand in yours, “I love you very much and one day I will force you to marry me.”, you said while seeing the lopsided smile appear in his face, “and after that I will force you to get me pregnant, because I can’t even wait to have little kids running around that look at you. But we will talk about that tomorrow, come on now!”, this time he cooperated a little more, letting you pull his figure up from the couch. As you tried to pull him after you into the bathroom, he held you back, pulling your figure into his body, the smell of alcohol stinging in your nose.

“I feel very nauseous right now, but I can’t wait.”

{ tagged: @julianbrandtrelated @holybrandt }

#Julian Brandt #Julian Brandt imagine #Julian Brandt one shot #julian brand fluff #Julian Brandt drabble #football imagine #bayer leverkusen #football #football one shot #footballer imagine #dfb #bundesliga #brandt #jbrandt10

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haikyuu-imagines-and-others · 6 years

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Can you write a scenario (angst) where Nishinoya and his fem!s/o have an argument and it ends up in her running out of the house but she gets it by a car. it would be great if you could do oikawa too but dont if its too much work. thank you! xx

I’m just really thirsty for an angsty Nishinoya scenario. Could any of you satisfy my thirst? (This sounds so dirty, I didn’t even mean to omg)

I’m just going to add these two requests!!! Both are asking for Nishinoya angst PLUS an extra Oikawa angst for funsies! I am so beyond happy that you all like my level of angst… Which isn’t actually a level it’s more like an assortment of angsty shit I’ve read and watched lol! I hope you all like what I’ve come up with! Thank you for requesting! - Admin Satori

Nishinoya Yuu:

“______! Check out this awesome bruise I got today from Ryuu’s spike!” Nishinoya bounded up next to you as you walked home from school. You looked over at what he was showing excitedly; the insides of his elbows and forearms were covered in dark purple bruises, and you almost felt sick to your stomach looking at them. But his excitement was out of this world, he looked completely pleased with himself and stood up straight as he walked next to you, he was just barely taller than you, but his hair made up for most of it.

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest, smacking away his hand when he tried to grab yours, “Yuu, bruises are only cool and awesome and badass to a specific point…. You passed that a long time ago… your bruises look bad, Yuu.” Your eyebrows furrowed, “Like… ‘Oh my god, does he get abused by his girlfriend’ bad.” You explained yourself better, glancing over at him when he let out a bark fo a laugh.

“Oh no way! No one thinks that, _____! I promise!” He smiled widely, feeling his body buzzing at your admittance of being his girlfriend. It wasn’t something brand new, you’d admitted it before, you’d talked about dating him on a daily basis to his friends and yours because you knew he liked it. He liked everyone knowing he was going out with you and that you were his first real girlfriend and he’d actually beaten Tanaka to the punch of getting a girl to go out with him. It was a pride thing. A boy thing.

You let out a long sigh, “That’s no the point, Yuu. Not every practice needs your 130% effort…. It’s practice, sweetie, you’re supposed to work on things you have issues on, not rock the whole gym with your mad skillz…. Yo.” You knew he wasn’t taking you seriously, and you knew it was probably because you weren’t taking it too seriously either. He wasn’t going to take your concerns seriously, and you knew that the moment you’d met him.

And it wasn’t because he just didn’t care, but because he knew what his body could and couldn’t handle. He knew his limits, and he’d assured you about it day in and day out that he was doing just fine! But still, it was your job to worry. You’d known him as a kid, and how he was now in high school was a radically different person altogether.

Nishinoya smiled, continuing to brush off your worry, reaching out a bit and wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he walked next to you, “But if I don’t give all my effort, how am I going to know if I’ve improved?” He pointed out, not realizing that his logic didn’t really make too much sense to anyone who had a brain. But you sighed as a response and his smile faltered, “A-are….. Are you mad at me, _____?” He asked curiously, sensing tension in the air around the two of you, knowing you’d let out sighs as a way to get out all the steam from the rage boiling inside your very soul. Which is something he liked about you; While he was bouncing off the walls with all this positive energy and radiated so much light, you preferred to keep it bottled and hidden for the most part, only showing who you were to those you deemed worthy…. Like Yin and Yang. Two sides to the same coin.

“No… Yuu… I’m not mad… Just a little worried…” You assured quietly, reading over and pressing your lips to his cheek before you stopped at the crosswalk, “I’ve got to go drop off my friends homework since she missed today… I’ll catch up with you.” You gave him the softest smile you could muster in this trying time before turning towards the crosswalk and making your trek to the other sidewalk as the sign dinged in approval.

Of course, not everything worked perfectly 100% of the time. Not even in Japan.

Suddenly you were thrown into the air, your body coming into contact with something that cracked hard, before tumbling over the roof of something made of metal and falling to the street on the other side. Your head cracked against the asphalt and you lost consciousness. Nishinoya stared from the sidewalk, not believing what he’d just seen, but his body was moving before he could come to terms with it, and suddenly you were being cradled in his arms in the middle of the road. “H-H…. HELP! HELP! Someone! Please!!! Call an ambulance! Please!” Nishinoya’s voice strained to be heard, not because he’d yelled too much that day but because his entire body was in panic mode; his throat was closing in on his volume control and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to yell before he was thrown into coughing fits. “Oh my god…. Please, ____, open your eyes… Look at me… Please wake up. Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.” His voice broke, not even realizing he’d started crying until after he saw one of his tears fall on your face and trail down your own cheek.

An annoying beeping sound pierced into your conciseness and you felt your spirit reaching out to try to shut it up, but nothing of your physical form moved to stop the beeping. Nothing moved at all. You could hear voices, hear people’s strained and stressed tones; At one point you could have sworn you heard panicked yelling and arguing. You wanted to tell them to shut up. To let you sleep. You were tired, exhausted.

Then suddenly you were filled with pain, every single nerve in your body imploding in on itself before splattering out in multiple instances of fire and burning ash. It got so bad, it felt so terrible, it stabbed your very soul for so long… You thought there was no end to it. Maybe this would be the rest of your life, just pure pain. Nothing but pain and loud voices - what an awful existence. What a terrible way to live. Were you even living anymore? You didn’t feel like you were. What kind of God would allow you to suffer so long while still alive?

Was this hell?

Finally, the beeping became too much to handle, and your eyes flashed open, your lungs inhaling oxygen as if they’d been suffocated for weeks. You blinked a few times, trying to understand what it was you were looking at, what it was you were feeling pulling at the entirety of your body.

You were in a hospital. A bed. You were the patient. It was dim in your room, the rising sun’s orange rays bathing your hospital room in visual fire. There was someone in the room with you, someone leaning their head on the bed, someone sleeping just a few inches from where you’d been. Without moving too much, knowing there’d only be more pain if you did, you looked over to see a boy. Young. High school. Jet black hair falling on his forehead, a blond streak being the only spot of color in all the black. You briefly wondered if he dyed his hair or if it was just a genetic thing. His expression was a mix of anguish and worry, and you wanted to reach out and stroke his face, wanted to stroke his eyebrows smoothed so he didn’t get any wrinkles. His face was too delicate to have something like worry lines marring it.

But you must have moved too much because suddenly his eyes snapped open, staring up at you before widening and his mouth tugging at the corners into a wide smile.

“______! Oh my God! You’re okay! You’re awake!!” He reached forward and wrapped his arms around you as best he could so as not to pull on or mess up any of the equipment you were hooked up to. “Are you feeling alright? Do you need to me to get a nurse?” He asked, his voice showing his relief at your well being, “Oh thank God.” He sighed, pressing his lips to the side of your head and closing his eyes.

You felt awkward, reaching one hand behind him and patting his back soothingly but mechanically. You cleared your throat and he pulled back from you, his eyebrows furrowing again in confusion at your reaction to his affection - his relieved affection at that. “I’m sorry…. This is terribly embarrassing…” You blushed a bit, looking down at the needle in your arm, keeping you hooked to an IV bag just off to the side. “Um… But… Who are you?”

Nishinoya’s eyes dimmed, his heart breaking in his chest.

This was definitely hell.

Oikawa Tooru:

“Tooru! You need to take it easy! You’re going to end up damaging you knee so much you’ll be in a walker by the time you hit 40!” You pleaded with your stubborn boyfriend, watching as he limped over to the front door, grabbing his coat. The two of you had been at this time and time again, always fighting about his safety, his health, his knee. You’d been there for his accident, when his knee had connected so hard with the polished wood during a game you could hear his bones clack together above all the noise of the gym. The doctors deemed it a career ender, something he’d never be able to play with anymore, but Oikawa was…. well, he was Oikawa. Stubborn as hell.

“I’m fine, _____-chan! Nothing a little icy hot won’t fix.” He assured, brushing off your concern once again. You huffed and walked over to stand just behind him, and you could see his shoulders set firmly, He was ready to fight you on this again. Again. And he would continue to fight you on the subject, no matter how stupid he was being or how repetitive it got. “Seriously, _____-chan, you don’t have to worry about me so much~. I’m fine.” He tried to assure you again, but the serious look in your eye gave him chills. “Come on, Iwa-chan is waiting for us with Makki and Mattsun!” While Oikawa was many things, a sweet talker being one of the many skills he possessed, he’d never been able to completely convince you to let go of a subject.

Your hands clenched by your sides, “Tooru.. Seriously…. You only get two knees… One’s already busted really bad and the other… You’re putting too much pressure on your legs by walking around while wounded…” But he only pulled his coat and scarf closer to his neck and chin before walking out of the house in front of you. “Tooru!” You yelled, surprised he’d just ignore you like that and take off without you. You quickly pulled on your shoes and jacket before rushing after him, grabbing his coat and tugging him to a stop, “Why aren’t you letting me help you? That’s all I’m asking of you, Tooru…. Just let me help you. You let everyone lean on you for everything - for games, for support and foundation, for guidance… And as annoying as you are, everything you do is greatly appreciated by those who receive that help…. But that leaves you wide open for your own faults and misleadings…” You tugged his jacket again, “Tooru… Just let me be your support. Let me help you. Lean on me.”

Oikawa froze, his eyes staring ahead of him at the sidewalk on the other side of the road, wanting so badly to just run away from the situation. He rarely let down his guard, rarely pulled down his walls for you to see him as he truly was. But somehow you always found your way in regardless if he was willing or not. You were there. Through everything. From the moment he found out his knee was going to be ruined forever, to now when he’s feeling the ebbing pain of that same knee coursing through his bones. He knew you were right, and he wanted so badly to lean on you for support. But he was scared. Oikawa Tooru, the grand king of Seijoh was nothing more than a scared baby.

Taking a deep breath, Oikawa allowed himself to nod, looking down at his shoes in shame for wanting to run away so easily. He bit his bottom lip and turned his body to be able to see you a bit more clearly, hoping you didn’t see the way tears were starting to brew in his light brown eyes. You felt your heart squeeze in your chest. You’d never wanted to hurt him, never wanted to make him cry, but you had to be rough with him to show him his ways, to show him that he wasn’t alone. Just like in his games, he wasn’t alone off the court. You reached up and stroked his cheek gently, “Don’t cry, Tooru…. I’m here…” You smiled gently, leaning on your toes before kissing a tear away from the corner of his eye before it was able to trail down his cheek.

He sniffled, reaching up and wiping his tears away furiously, “Aw, _____-chan~, you think I was crying? There’s no way~ I’d ever cry in public~.” His voice broke a bit and you giggled at the way his eyes widened just the tiniest in embarrassment. He cleared his throat a bit rougher than usual and took your hand in his, pulling you towards the walkway between the sidewalks of the road, “Come now, _____-chan~ we can grab a knee brace for me before meeting with our wonderful friends!” He reached up again and rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve, his focus being on trying to look good in public… and not on the road he was crossing.

Before you even knew what you were doing, you’d reached out and pushed Oikawa out of the way, just barely catching a glimpse of him falling before your body collided with a car running the light you were crossing at. The front bumper hit your legs first, causing your body to crumple into the windshield of the car, creating a spiders web of shattered glass before you were flying over the roof of the car and landing on the hard, wet asphalt of the street. You laid there, barely finding any strength to keep your eyes open, not even being able to feel your body - your mind was shielding you from that pain, and you weren’t sure if you were grateful or if you should be panicking at the fact. But you didn’t have much time to think about it before your vision was obscured by soft chestnut hair.

Oikawa was there, his hands shaking as they hovered over your limp body, he leaned his head down to just barely rest against your chest, trying to find a heartbeat. It was there, but it was very faint, weak. He cupped your face in his hands, “______!______! Can you hear me? Please… Oh god…. Please be…. Look at me, _____… Can you see me?” He called to you, the panic in his voice was clearly evident, and the sound of his voice was actually lost to you. There was a deafening ringing in your ears, but you could just make out that he was calling your name, over and over, like a mantra, like a prayer. Oikawa looked up from your fading existence, “Someone! Anyone! Please! Call 911!! Call an ambulance!” He begged, seeing a few people already on the phone with the authorities. The driver of the car had, thankfully, stopped, and was just to the right of Oikawa, waiting to see if he’d be charged with vehicular manslaughter.

He was babbling now, and you just stared at him blankly, almost completely forgetting you’d been hit by a car not but a few second ago. You felt numb, like you weren’t even in your body anymore; Almost as if the force of the car hitting you had caused your spirit to be forcefully removed from your body.

“No…. No! ______! Don’t close your eyes! Look at me! Wake up!” You could feel more than hear Oikawa’s sobs, the jagged breaths felt like something was constricting your chest, his tears falling on your face felt like something was stabbing into your very soul over and over again. Closing your eyes hadn’t been your choice, it’d just happened, and suddenly you weren’t there in the moment anymore.

You didn’t know where you were. There was nothing. Pitch black. In this darkness, you didn’t even have a body, or maybe you did but it was just too dark to see. You felt like you were wandering, as best as you could feel in this void of silence; You were looking for something, something to end this maddening darkness. But there wasn’t anything to look for. Just the void. Never ending. Unforgiving. Unyielding in it’s torment on your mind. You couldn’t remember how you’d gotten there. Couldn’t even remember if there was anything to remember before this. Maybe this is just how your life had been. Maybe this is how it was supposed to be. A void. Nothing but the void.

You stopped searching. You stopped looking. Instead…. You allowed the void to envelope you, and pull you further into it’s recesses of complete emptiness.

The feeling of falling caused Oikawa to jump out of his shallow slumber, and he looked around the room quickly before seeing Iwaizumi in the doorway. He looked exhausted. But Oikawa looked worse. He knew.

“…. it’s been…. 4 weeks… Hajime…” Oikawa croaked out, staring at your limp body in the hospital bed, hooked up to all these machines to keep you alive, to breathe for you, to make your heart continue to beat. He sniffled, reaching up and rubbing at the ghost tears, he hadn’t been able to actually cry in 2 weeks - he barely had enough water in his system to pee every day let alone allow himself to produce tears. “Wha…. What if she doesn’t wake up? What am I going to do?” Hesitantly, Oikawa reached out and took your too cold hand in his own, trying to warm it back to a comforting temperature but soon realizing he wouldn’t be able to; his own blood had started to run cold the moment the doctor informed him of your condition.

Iwaizumi felt a knot in his throat, something restraining him from telling his best friend the bad news. Not wanting to break the man even more than he already was. He looked down at the linoleum floor of the hospital room, “I…. I don’t know… Tooru…” He finally got out, taking a deep breath, gathering his strength before he was actually able to look at you. Well, what was once you. “Tooru… Um…” He cleared his throat, and looked away from your hospital bed, looked away from his best friends hopeless love. “T-The doctor told me… What he’d told you… About…. Pulling the plu-“

“NO!” Oikawa yelled, not even looking at Iwaizumi, not daring to take his eyes off your ‘sleeping’ face. “No… Please…. They can’t…. I won’t let them…” He sniffled, his voice becoming thin as his throat closed at the thought of losing you forever. “She’s going to be okay… She’s going to wake up, and she’s going to be alright.” Oikawa sobbed out, feeling his already broken heart shattering even further into tinier pieces than before. “Please… Don’t take her from me…. I love her… I believe in miracles, and if there is a God….. He’d see how much I need her in my life, how much I love her…. How I can’t function without her here with me….” His hands held your one tighter, like he was holding onto a lifeline on the brink of drowning, “Please…. Come back to me, ______.”

#admin Satori #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! scenario #Nishinoya Yuu #oikawa tooru #angst #Angst-Giving :D

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girls-scenarios · 7 years

Text

Fall Into You

Idol: Momo (Twice)

Prompt: YAY! YOU OPENED UP REQUESTS AGAIN! I'm a huge fan of your writing it's honestly amazing and I have your notifs on☺️ I was wondering if you could do a Twice Momo vampire AU where the reader bumps into vampire Momo but instead of Momo being a vicious vampire she's more of a clueless, cute one (kinda like how the real Momo acts lol)

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: It’s Halloween month, everyone! I wanted to write something with that kid of theme before Halloween is over, and so I decided to make sure this one got written. Also, I got the title from Dreamcatcher’s song “Sleep-Walking”, which I’ve been obsessed with recently. Everyone go listen to it, seriously. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys!

The sun had long past set by the time you started locking up the shop you worked at. Clouds blocked out much of the light from the moon, and you shivered and pulled your jacket tighter as you stepped out onto the streets. It was dark and pretty much deserted at this time of the night, and you didn’t really expect to see anyone on your way home. Still, you were cautious. Anything was liable to happen this late at night.

It wasn’t until you were a block or two from your apartment that you heard a thump in the alleyway just in front of you. You stopped, eyes slowly drifting around you before they landed on the alleyway. There was another thump. A cat, maybe? No, it was too big to be a cat.

The thumps got closer and you stepped away from the alley, hands going into your pocket to clutch at your keys as you stared, frozen where you stood. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. And it was way, way too big to be cat.

A woman tumbled out of the alleyway, a trashcan rolling behind her. Your eyes wide, you took another step back, mouth dropped open in surprise. She stumbled to her feet and tried to smooth out her hair, whimpering slightly when she saw the bruise on her wrist. She didn’t seem to have noticed you yet, and you debated on whether or not you should run. She seemed harmless enough, but who in their right mind wandered around at this time of night?

Just as you stepped back again, your foot hit a fallen leaf, and a loud crunch resounded through the otherwise silent street. Her head jerked up and her eyes locked with yours. Well, shit. Her eyes were glowing red, and you swallowed, deeply regretting your decision not to make a break for it when you heard the noises in the alleyway. She seemed to be taken by surprise for a moment, just staring at you as you stared back. Then she snapped out of it, shaking her head and stepping forward.

“Uh, hello?” You said, tightening your grip on your keys. What was she? She was so pale in the dim light of the streetlamps, and her eyes were undeniably red. A vampire? But those didn’t exist, right? As she stepped closer still, head cocked like a puppy observing something it didn’t understand, your breath stopped. That was definitely what she was, and she was coming closer. She was going to suck your blood. As she took the step forward to stand in front of you, you closed your eyes on reflex and tensed your shoulders, preparing yourself.

“What are you doing?” She asked. Slowly, you opened one eye, daring to look at her. Confusion was written all over her face, and her head was still cocked slightly to the side. If you weren’t so terrified, you would think she was cute.

“I.... Please don’t hurt me,” you managed to get out, your voice cracking. The girl took a step back with wide eyes, shaking her head.

“I would never! I’m sorry, did I get too close? I’m just not used to seeing other people this late at night and you smelled like food and I’m really, really hungry. Restaurants are never open this late but I forgot to eat earlier.” You opened both your eyes, but kept your defensive stance, still eyeing her warily.

“I smell like food?”

“Yeah,” she said, sniffing the air. “Like fries and stuff. Burgers.” Oh. You worked in a fast food chain. Of course you would smell like food.

“I just got off work, that’s why. I don’t have any food on me though. Sorry.” She sighed and her shoulders slumped a bit, and she took a few steps to the side to lean on the brick wall.

“I should have known. I’m sorry. I’m just so hungry.” You didn’t know what to make of her. She had seemed so scary before, and her red eyes were still gleaming, but now she seemed so... childish, almost.

“Are you... A vampire?” She nodded her head almost out of habit before jerking around to look at you again.

“Wait, I’m not supposed to just admit that!” She whined and crossed her arms. “I can’t think straight when I’m hungry.”

“It’s kind of obvious, no offence,” you said. “But wait. Don’t vampires drink blood to get full?” She gave you an appalled look.

“That’s was years and years ago. Those vampires weren’t cultured. These days we can live off meats and blood capsules if we absolutely need them.” She wrinkled her nose. “Just the thought of drinking a human’s blood makes me cringe. It would probably taste bad.” You still didn’t quite believe her, but you noticed that she seemed to be getting weaker, letting the wall hold her up.

“So, since you have to live off stuff like that instead. Does that mean you have to eat a lot to keep up your stamina or something? ‘Cause you look like you’re dying.” She grinned and help up a finger gun, winking.

“Bingo!” Then her face dropped and she slumped to the ground, folding her hands as if she were praying. “Please. Show me where to get some food?” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips and you offered her your hand.

“Okay, fine. I’ll feed you, if you promise you really, really don’t drink blood.” Her face twisted in disgust again and she accepted your hand, pulling herself to her feet.

“Honestly, I’m offended by the fact that you think I would do that in this day and age, but I promise. Since you’re going to feed me.” She wobbled a bit on her feet as she stood, and you held her up with your arm, letting her lean on you the rest of the way to your apartment building.

You had never seen anyone put away food so quickly in your life. When the two of you had arrived at your apartment, the girl had been almost dead on her feet. Now, she was scarfing down all the food that you sat on the table in front of her. Leftover pizza, granola bars, cereal, two sandwiches.... The list went on. You watched in amazement as she ate, mouth slightly open.

“Wow. You weren’t kidding about being hungry,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. She finished one of the microwavable mini-burgers in one bite and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, nodding her head.

“Yeah,” she said, mouth still full of food. You grimaced, and she swallowed, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. Wait, did I ever introduce myself?” You shook your head. “You’re a good person,” she said, staring at you with awe. “You don’t even know my name and you fed me in your house.” You waved your hands, laughing awkwardly.

“No, no. You looked dead on your feet, anybody would do this.”

“Nah, you’re a good person.” She held out her hand, grinning. “I’m Momo.” You took her hand and smiled back.

“I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you, Momo.” You weren’t expecting her hand to be so warm, or her smile to be so inviting. Now that she had eaten, she was friendly, bubbly.... she somehow didn’t feel a bit out of place even though she was sitting in your home, a stranger.

“I’m so happy I met you.” She slumped down into her chair. “I might have died otherwise.”

“You’re really dramatic, aren’t you?”

“Weird,” she said, squinting at you and making a face. “I’ve had some other people tell me that same thing.” You couldn’t help rolling your eyes even as you looked away from her to check the time on the clock. After midnight. When had it gotten so late? You had to wake up early in the morning too.

Yawning, you stood from your chair and stretched your arms above your head, rolling your sore shoulders. She watched you, eyes wide. Of course she wouldn’t be tired. Vampires were nocturnal, weren’t they?

“Um, well, I know you’re probably not tired or anything but I have to get up early in the morning.” She tilted her head a bit, and you thought that she looked a little bit like a puppy.

“Why wouldn’t I be tired? I mean, sure I slept in but I’ve been up since noon at least.” It was your turn to be confused.

“What? Wait, so can vampires go out in the light?”

“Of course. We’re people too, we have to have jobs and lives as well.” She didn’t seem as offended by this as she was when you thought she drank blood. You were somehow relieved. “How else would we get jobs?”

“So is everything I know about vampires wrong?” She pressed a finger to her pink lips and frowned in thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Probably. I mean, it’s not like vampires were allowed to come out and say what was real and what wasn’t. Although we are allergic to garlic. It’s kind of a weird thing, I don’t understand that one.” Your shoulders slumped a bit.

“I’m sorry for making all those assumptions.” She waved her hand.

“It’s fine. It’s not like you would have known any better.” Another glance at the clock made your shoulders slump even more.

“I really need to get to bed,” you said, stepping away from the table. “I can lend you some night clothes and you’re welcome to sleep on the couch if you need to. It’s dangerous out at night.” You figured she could take care of herself though. Dangerous or not, though, now that you looked closer, she still looked tired. You were a bit worried that she wouldn’t make it back to wherever she lived.

“Thanks! You really are a nice person, (Y/N),” she said, grinning widely and standing up. You felt your cheeks flushing and looked away, shrugging your shoulders in pretend nonchalance as you headed towards your room.

“Don’t mention it. I’ll go get some clothes to sleep in. The bathroom is across from my bedroom if you need to use it.”

When you walked back into the room with clothes in hand, she was sitting on the couch, looking at the books on your coffee table.

“Here are the clothes.” When you spoke, she jumped so hard she fell off the couch and landed on the ground with a tiny squeal. You could do nothing but stare at her for a second as you processed what had just happened. She looked back up at you with wide eyes.

Then you laughed, covering your mouth with your hand as tears gathered at the sides of your eyes. She laughed along with you, and just her laughing made the entire thing funnier. The fact that you were half asleep didn’t help either.

“You scared me,” she said, a whine in her voice and she grabbed the couch and climbed back onto it. Still giggling, you walked over to the couch, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“What the heck, I was gone for like, two minutes.” She had a pout on her cute pink lips and suddenly you thought that you wouldn’t mind getting used to seeing this sight every night. She was nothing like you’d imagined her to be when you first saw her. She was cute and clumsy and funny and everything you’d never expect a vampire to be.

“Still,” she said, taking the clothes from your outstretched hand. Then, after a pause, “thank you again for letting me stay here for the night.” You shrugged your shoulders again, except this time it wasn’t forced at all.

“I don’t mind your company. Actually, would you like to go get lunch tomorrow? My treat.” She startled again, and had to catch herself before she fell off the couch again, sending you into another fit of giggles that made her whine and shove your shoulder.

“You mean it?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you said, grinning. “I want to get to know you better.” She grinned back, and her red eyes sparkled in the dim light from the lamp in the corner of your living room.

“That sounds wonderful.”

#twice #twice scenarios #twice momo #momo scenarios #twice scenario #momo scenario #momo #hirai momo #girl group scenarios #kpop scenario

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rnr4ev · 6 years

Text

‘Tis the Season

Merry Christmas @autumnsayshey here’s my gift to you from the @personasecretsanta2k17 I hope you enjoy it (AND thank you so so much for the art it is adorable and I love it).

P5, Ryuji/Akira -> mistletoe kiss with supportive hugs for all and some pt Akechi friendships. (also snuck in a ponytail Akechi for you)

fic length ~2k

AO3 Link

Akechi watched as the last customer walked out of the cafe, letting his polite smile droop into a relaxed expression as he turned to start rinsing out the dishes and coffee maker. The sign on the door said closed but he didn’t need to worry about locking up just yet, not with Sojiro still out shopping with Futaba. The water was warm under his hands as he scrubbed out the coffee machine. This was the first time Sojiro had left him alone in the shop. It was nice to feel trusted, even after, well after… Akechi was thrown out of his musings by the sound of the bell on the door jingling, followed by a loud bang and muffled swearing.

Akechi turned to see Ryuji clutching his knee, his previously non injured knee, if he remembered correctly, and some colorfully wrapped presents scattered around him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah just walked into a chair and tripped. Man, why’d the girls make me carry all the gifts over?”

“Oh are those for tomorrow? I can help you take them upstairs, although I can’t promise if Akira is back or not.” Akechi replied, quickly drying his hands off. Things were, while maybe not the best with Ryuji, they had improved a lot after Akira vouched for him and Sojiro started letting him work at the cafe. He’d never be Ryuji’s best friend, that place would likely always belong to Akira, but Ryuji had put his trust in him surprisingly fast after everything. He’d trusted Akechi enough to let him slowly back into their friend group, he’d trusted him enough to help him through the physical therapy he had had to go through and most telling, he’d trusted Akechi’s help with his mother’s legal proceedings regarding her court official divorce with his father.

“Man, I didn’t even recognize you at first with your hair up like that. Boss make you do that to keep hair out of the food or you trying to something new?” Ryuji replied, straightening himself up and picking up the pile of presents.

Akechi reached up to feel his hair, it was up off the nap of his neck. “No, Futaba shot a hairband at me before she left, but she missed so Boss made her pick it up and that somehow translated to putting my hair up for me in Futaba language? I’m not sure it was a bit strange.” Akechi responded.

“Huh, well it looks nice. You should put it up more often.” Ryuji, now carrying a towering pile of presents responded.

“That’s what Akira and Mona said as well, maybe I can ask Sae-san if she could help me braid it sometime, since she was nice enough to let me stay with her and Makoto, or maybe I could ask Makoto, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Are you sure I can’t help you with that?” Akechi watched as a particularly small package wobbled with every step Ryuji took.

“Nope, I got this.” with that Ryuji continued walking towards and then up the stairs to the attic where Akira was staying. Akechi went back to washing dishes, stifling a laugh when he heard the telltale sound of crashing and thumping as the package pile no doubt collapsed again upstairs.

In theory, Ryuji’s plan was simple, so simple it was flawless. So how the eff did he keep on messing up?

Sure dropping all the presents on the floor and waking Akira from his nap had meant that he wasn’t able to sneak mistletoe up on the beam by Akira’s desk but still, that’s what his back up plans were for. But yesterday he and Akira had been under the holiday decoration at a nearby store and when Ryuji had turned to point it out to Akira, his boyfriend had somehow managed to teleport himself to the other side of the store, examining a small cat costume. Admittedly imagining Morgana in the costume had raised his spirits but this wasn’t the first time Akira somehow managed to wiggle his way out from under the mistletoe with him. If it wasn’t for the fact that Akira’s had given Ann a kiss on the check when they were caught under one together, Ryuji would be convinced that Akira was just flat out avoiding them. But he wasn’t and that somehow made it worse.

On Thursday, Ryuji had planned everything out, putting mistletoe near the entry to the attic and of course as soon as he and Akira were about to reach the final step together, Mona slipped between them causing Ryuji to lose his balance, fall into his boyfriend and then tumble onto the attic floor, a few steps away from the mistletoe.

On Friday, first Akira and Ann were stuck under the mistletoe, and then Futaba and Makoto, and then Ryuji and Ann, who had blown him a kiss and giggled at his frustration.

On Saturday the worst happened when the mistletoe that Ryuji had strategically placed disappeared right when Akira and him were perfectly situated underneath it. Ryuji kicked over a chair (and then sheepishly picked it back up) when Yusuke told him that the mistletoe made the scene “off balance” and so he had moved it to “improve the composition” or whatever fancy art words he’d used.

Akira sleeplily blinked up at him as he shuffled the present pile near the small decorated tree in the attic.

“Ryuji? What time is it?” Akira asked, voice groggy with sleep. Behind him Morgana let out a low grumble that was either a complaint or insult or possibly both.

Ryuji shrugged, Akira had a hellish work schedule the past few days so he could comfortably take Christmas Eve off.

“I’m not sure, late probably because Akechi seemed like he was closing. But you should go back to sleep.”

“-m not tired” Was Akira’s reply, slightly muffled under blankets. Ryuji sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Listen, you and I know that Makoto might kill you if you sleep through the party tomorrow so go back to sleep dude”.

Ryuji heard some more muffled grumbling before Akira poked his head out from the covers.

“Your worse than Mona.” he replied sticking his tongue out, “but I am really tired and I did promise Yusuke I’d help him look over the decorations tomorrow, so see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” Ryuji replied, leaning over to give Akira a brief forehead kiss before standing.

12/23/xx 9:00 pm

Ryuji : ANNNNNN

Ann: wat

Ryuji: i think Akira’s psychic

Ann: ?

Ann: explain

Ryuji : avoids mistletoe better than palace shadows

Ann: lol. Why don’t you just ask him for a kiss under the mistletoe

Ryuji : nah, that’s not romantic or smooth at all!

#1 Best Hacker: >implying that u can be smooth

Ryuji: what the eff futaba stop eavesdropping, aren’t u supposed to be wrapping presents or something

#1 Best Hacker : no, already finished

#1 Best Hacker: >:3

Ann : u just put them all in gift bags didn’t u?

#1 Best Hacker is offline

Ann: just grab him and give him a smooch Ryuji, you can do it

Ryuji: ...

Ryuji sighed setting his phone down and throwing his arm over his eyes. Two days left ‘til Christmas and all his plans for getting Akira under the mistletoe had failed. The guy just had an uncanny ability to dodge and duck out of any place with mistletoe in it before Ryuji got there. Whatever, tomorrow was Christmas Eve and the party they’d been planning he’d get his mistletoe kiss or die trying. Resolve set, Ryuji rolled over on his side, falling into a peaceful sleep.

Futaba walked into Leblanc just in time to catch Akira posing with his arms in the air, completely covered in tinsel as Yusuke circled him trying to add to his masterpiece and Akechi surreptitiously tried to take photos on his phone. On the side Makoto was standing worriedly by occasionally taking a worried step forward to break them up and then stepping back as she thought better of it.

Her phone dinged as Akechi sent out a picture of Akira covered in the glittery decoration to the group chat. She plopped herself down on the booth next to him.

“They been at it for awhile?” She asked scooting over to him to grab a handful of mixed nuts on the table.

“At least an hour” Akechi replied, “I got here an hour ago with Makoto and they were already like that”.

Group Chat

Akechi : [pic]

Ryuji : Oi tell Yusuke the decorations go on the furniture not my boyfriend.

Ann : oo tell Yusuke to add more red

Haru : oh no

Ryuji: Ann no! Tell Akira I’m coming to rescue him rn

“Akira, your knight in shining armor is coming to save you!” Futaba called out, laughing as Yusuke let out an “excuse me” and Akira let out a grateful smile.

By the time Haru arrived the decorations had been thankfully, put up in more traditional places with Yusuke instead choosing to fiddle with the tree ornaments.

“Hi everyone, sorry I’m late, the meeting took longer than anticipated.”

She was greeted with various hello’s as she took in the state of the cafe.

Akechi was smooshed in the corner of a booth with both Makoto and Ann fiddling with braids in his hair and talking animatedly to each other. Ryuji was cuddled next to Akira, manga in hand as Akira read over his shoulder. She took a seat next to Futaba who was tapping away on her phone on a bar stool.

“Okay coffee and hot chocolate are done so if anyone wants any come get it” Sojiro stated passing out drinks to everyone.

“You know”, Haru started after everyone was sitting comfortably around, warm drinks in hand, “It’s been a long time since I was able to celebrate a holiday like this, dad was always working or he’d go to really official fancy parties to rub elbows with politicians, so I guess I just wanted to say thanks.”

For a moment the group fell silent, then Akechi opened his mouth,

“I -uh never really celebrated at the orphanage, or had actual friends to celebrate with. It means a lot that after everything that happened, everything I did, you all accepted me and helped me recover. So I… thanks” Akechi trailed off, taking a sip of his coffee.

Ryuji wasn’t sure who started sniffling, probably Ann, although she would definitely slug him if he pointed that out.

The next few minutes where filled with a combination of hugs and sniffles as the group consoled each other.

As the party wound down, the members took their leave one by one, first with Makoto and Akechi who both mentioned wanting to be home in time to surprise Sae with some presents, then Haru who drove Ann home since Ann was complaining about being too full to move. Next was Yusuke, who after staring fondly at the “Sayori” for awhile stated that he had to get back to his dorms.

Finally the only ones left were Morgana, Futaba, Ryuji and Akira. And then, Futaba scooped up Morgana (despite his protests) and waved goodbye to Ryuji and Akira. It was around this time that Ryuji became acutely aware that one) it was christmas eve and two) with all the celebration going on he’d forgotten about the mistletoe. He reached into his back pocket frantically, and when he didn’t find the sprig he’d been carrying with him he began searching through his jacket pockets.

“Ugh for reals?” he exclaimed as he came up empty.

“Hmm did you misplace something?” Akira asked, carrying over another cup of hot chocolate for Ryuji.

“N-no, it’s nothing” Ryuji stammered, blushing at being caught

Akira looked at him a twinkle in his eye.

“Hmm could it be that you’re missing this?” He replied dangling the mistletoe above their head.

“Wha-?” Ryuji’s question was stifled as Akira leaned over, pressing his lips to Ryuji’s.

“Merry Christmas Ryuji” Akira stated, laughing at Ryuji’s gobsmacked expression.

“You, you- When did you?” Ryuji questioned looking at Akira with an adorably confused expression.

“Well you seemed disappointed that we didn’t get to have a kiss under the mistletoe and I may or may not have found this in your back pocket so...” Akira trailed off as Ryuji reached up and grabbed the mistletoe from Akira.

“Merry Christmas Akira.” Ryuji replied, leaning over to give Akira another kiss.

Ryuji: I did it!!!!

Ann: good job

#1 Best Hacker : we poppin’ the biggest bottles

Ryuji: Hey what’d i say about eavesdropping

#1 Best Hacker: :3c

#p5 #persona #My writing #hopefully this copied over well im pretty sure that the ao3 link has better formatting lol #personasecretsanta17

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